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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 months

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trouble, m | jjk

... aka, jeon jungkook’s dick is so good and your pussy is so heavenly that faith in humanity is restored.

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; a hookup turned awkward meeting at a goddamn McDonalds of all places; smut (fem reader, hair pulling, heavy making out, m-receiving oral, doggy, penetrative sex, fingering, m-masturbation); non-idol!BTS – ft best friend!Park Jimin being a wingman little shit classic

“Oh, I’m in trouble.”

Panic coursed throughout his veins.

“I can’t be here.”

And maybe a little bit of arousal too.

“Jungkook, this is a public place,” Park Jimin corrected him. “Anybody can be at McDonald’s.”

He almost got up from his seat, except he was boxed in a corner of a crowded fast-food restaurant and Jimin shoved the tray full of food right in front of his face. The other side of the table held various shopping bags full of things that Jimin thought his mother would like for the upcoming new year. Why did Jeon Jungkook have to be here? Well, he was the one guy from Busan who happened to be Jimin’s close friend and Jimin’s mother’s favorite friend of her son’s. Therefore, Jungkook obviously had to select something for Jimin to buy just so Jimin could say, Jungkook thought you would look nice in this cream sweater, thus gaining maximum best son points.

Yeah, Jungkook didn’t really get it either, but he was told that he was getting free food out of it.

Didn’t think it was going to be McDonald’s, though.

Also didn’t think that his fuck from last night was going to serendipitously appear, standing in line looking drop-dead gorgeous as she pushed the fur-lined hood of her coat back. Her lush hair spilled out in soft waves over the shoulders of that the black suede long-line stunner, far too much luxury for the city mall. And then there was her face. What god thought it would be funny to allow someone to look that effortlessly pretty bare-faced? Who put such sexy eyes on such a cute face? One glance and one would think, how cute with those dimples and pillowy lips, and then do a double take when the shape of those foxy eyes sunk in, holy shit, fuck me right now. Or, at least Jungkook had thought that. Still thought it, looking at her again in the daylight. Tight white top, heather gray sweatpants that didn’t match the lavishness of the jacket, and easy black-and-white sneakers, clearly everything thrown together to grab some food quickly while being a goddamn snack herself.

Jimin was carefully positioning Jungkook’s meal in front of him – fries, massive sandwich with both a beef patty and fried chicken patty, tall Coca-Cola and all, chatting away, and all Jungkook could do was gawk like an idiot.

Like he said, he was in trouble.

Tomorrow.

The ghost of her hand slid up his chest, caressing his skin while her voice curled by his ear, soft lips kissing down his neck.

I hope your friends ask about me.

The image entering his mind, the way she smiled above him, her skin alight from his mood lamp with specks of red light playfully dancing over her jaw, her fingertips tracing his muscle making his heart race, her soft thighs against his, smooth and sleek and making him insane.

The devil was in the details.

“Hello? Did you space out again?”

Jungkook jumped, startled that Jimin was glaring at him. “What?”

Those small hands stiffly pointed to the food spread before them. “Eat? Come on, it’s busy and we don’t want to take up too much time.”

“R… Right.”

He had about two seconds to take a bite out of his sandwich before Jimin casually asked in between bites of curly fries, “Oh yeah, you ran off last night with that sexy lady. How did that go?”

Jungkook choked.

That’s all I am, sex and shallow feelings, tch, what an idiot, acting like it was ever anything else, I don’t need anyone and I won’t need anyone, go ahead and act all high and mighty in front of your friends during the day, we all know you’ll be begging to crawl in my bed at night.

Mind a billion thoughts a minute.

You tilted your head and found yourself not that hungry. Still, some fries and a drink sounded good, so you picked that. Reached into the fur by your chest and pulled out your cardholder, tapping it to pay as you continued scowling in your head, trying not to let it show in the form of resting-bitch-face.

Ten minutes before this moment had been an annoying confrontation. You considered if you could have handled it better.

Or more savagely.

You should have pulled up all those messages you had left on read.

Sigh, but, no, you hadn’t thought of it. Ultimately, it wasn’t worth your time. It would have been a childish move. Why was that anyway? Why was it that you needed to be the “bigger person” and not be petty when some guy got all up in your face about you not wanting a relationship as his supposed friends crowded around in a circle around you two, clearly silently intimidating you? In public! Fuckin’ bum-rushed you on the street as if the showy dramatics would illicit shame or obedience. Yeah, because you were a woman who would just kill to be in a relationship, right? You scoffed internally. ‘Cause it was just so important to be in a relationship, more than, oh, I don’t know, actively not being in one that was definitely, absolutely gonna make you miserable?

Also, he hadn’t even been that good in bed.

“At least I am sex. You couldn’t even be that for a slut with as low standards as me,” was your frigid reply before walking away.

You couldn’t understand it. What was so great about relationships anyway? People only got into them for easy sex. A lotta work for a shitty time. You could get laid without the emotional baggage of another, thank you.

Although, sex probably wasn’t easy for people who acted like little bitches.

Hah.

You thanked the employee and accepted your food, wandering over to the drinks fountain with your paper cup. A basic day of running errands on your off-day now ruined by this bullshit. Nothing a little McDonald’s couldn’t fix though. Something about the nostalgia of hot, simple, cheap fast food made it more delicious. You probably should have gotten a sandwich or something, but you didn’t want to be too full and not want to do your errands after. Fried potatoes it was.

Hey, people called you sex, not the epitome of health.

You notched your finger on the tab and watched the honey-sweetened black ice tea pour out of the nozzle, which was the exact moment your intrusive thoughts popped up.

You avoid making deep relationships so that no one will notice when you die.

Thanks, brain.

Funnily enough, no one had ever said this to you. You would think someone would have noticed by now but, no, this was a revelation you made yourself once you were old enough to understand yourself better, and it came randomly while showering. Hmph. Goddamn showers. You slipped past a lovey-dovey couple to sit by the window counter, plopping down on one of the stools to munch on your fries for a bit. Alone. Some people wanted a lot of people to surround them. A sense of community and togetherness. Some people wanted a chosen few, valuing the quality over quantity. And some people were like you, loners who accepted who you were and that was NSFS – not safe for society – patiently waiting for the one that really understood you.

Or maybe there wasn’t anyone like you and you were just delusional about that.

Anyway, didn’t really matter. This kind of thing simply ended with thinking in circles. Sure, you could dwell on the whole question of existence, the why, but you had determined the more important was the who, the self within, and that wasn’t driven by the why. The who was driven by instinct.

If your instinct was to eat, fuck, sleep, repeat, then so be it.

Oh, and occasional responsibilities, like getting your tires rotated. Hence why you even outside today in the first place.

Hah, what a bother.

You munched on your crispy, hot fries and didn’t bother anyone. You learned not to expect too much out of people. They talked a lotta talk and didn’t walk much walk. I want this, this, and this, you heard a whole lot and nobody did it. A speech was all well and good, just not nearly as half as interesting as doing. And if you didn’t want to do it, you didn’t waste time beating yourself up over it. If that resulted in you only hooking up and avoiding relationships that you didn’t feel like committing to, then at least you weren’t disingenuous or fake.

Yup.

Looking out the window, you watched the people rush past with their shopping bags, linking arms with each other to avoid slipping on the sidewalk. Snow flurries falling down, down. The glass was clean enough that you could see inside the restaurant too. Tables with families and friends sharing simple, cheap fast food and turning it into a collective memory. Laughter and conversation echoed around your silence.

The looking glass showed you two ways.

You didn’t mind it, but it was evident you weren’t part of it too.

Hmmmm.

Your gaze stopped at a pair of guys. One of them was wearing a big black bucket hat. You noticed him because large brown eyes were actively staring back at you. Ogling, even.

What the–

You turned slightly and sat up straight with alarm as Jeon Jungkook stiffened and shifted, scooting closer to the person next to him, sneaking a not-so-subtle glance at you. You continued to look back in stunned confusion.

At goddamn McDonald’s?

Is no place sacred?

It was only less than twenty-four hours ago, but last night felt like another world.

Your fingers framing your face.

You licked your lips. Staring into his eyes, everything dark except for the mood lamp he left on. Cycling lights slowly drifted on the ceiling in a colorful haze. It was easy to remember all the shit people liked to say about you when you were alone, she’s so pretty but I hear she’s only into casual sex, what a shame, but you found solace in knowing that they had one fact wrong, because casual sex was for casuals and that was the wrong adjective to describe what you did.

Definitely the incorrect one to describe what transpired between you and Jeon Jungkook last night.

Your hand slipped from your cheek, and you touched his skin, bringing his face close to yours, keeping the whispers only in the air that you shared with those trembling lips.

“You’ve got cute eyes, but I bet you can be sexy when you want to.”

What was wrong with this? What was wrong with your comfort zone being someone else’s hands on your waist, pulling you closer? What was wrong with accepting the surge of power you felt licking the side of his mouth, adding slippery friction to the harshness of the metal rings pierced there, drinking in his moan as you teased him? It was just so annoying caring about all that noise trying to get to you, telling you to tone it down, telling you to stop, and, for what, don’t you have shame, that’s not how women should act, no. What they really meant was that was not how they would act. The consensus was to strive to be the respectable audience, always strive to fit in and be the quiet ones.

You envied their desire for silence.

Because you had to be loud.

You tangled your fingers in his long black hair and pulled his head back, running your tongue over his neck, tasting that skin and the anticipation vibrating in those muscles underneath. Admired the shivers under your body as you rolled into him, nice and slow and agonizing, whispering dirty things to him, things you wanted and none of it safe for work, finally bringing his head back down to nip at those gasping lips, intending on turning them pink and prickling with want, kissing him softly in contrast to the way you tugged at his hair every time he tried to intensify it.

“P-Please…”

His hands on your bare ass, hiking your dress up, digging his fingernails in, trying to keep his breathing even as desperation bled into it.

“You said to show you what I like,” you murmured. “I like teasing you.”

You pressed your body to his so your perfume would cling to his clothes, his bedsheets, his skin.

This was going to sound dramatic, but Jungkook was pretty sure last night she saved his life.

Actually.

That sounded very dramatic.

And kind of pathetic, so Jungkook kept that thought to himself, but nevertheless he kept that secret close to his chest, next to his racing heart that couldn’t seem to slow down, especially when her nails raked down his back while her tongue snaked around his, sucking on it lightly compared to the force behind her hands, the contrast between kiss and touch causing unbearable levels of arousal. He hadn’t expected a casual conversation to turn into this. He liked to think he was maybe charming, perhaps suave in some cases, occasionally daring, but he didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.

Casual sex could only stay casual if both people got the memo.

And Jungkook knew he didn’t want to get in too deep unless he was sure and the truth was that he wasn’t sure if he was ever going to want someone that much. It was fucking terrifying to be that vulnerable. How could he ever be “sure”? If he failed at his own goals, the only one he was letting down was himself. If his plans didn’t go as planned, well, that sucked but it was okay because it was only himself and he could do something about it. But getting his heart broken by someone else – ugh, what could he do about that? Worse, everything became so complicated when people didn’t say what they meant and didn’t mean what they say. It would be nice to experience the good stuff without the chance of getting his heart broken.

Cut out all that risky business.

It was a bit strange that this situation hadn’t felt like a risk. Of course it was, how was it not risky bringing a woman you barely knew to your apartment with the intent to make out and who knows what else, but, hey, the moment had felt right.

Or maybe it was the gods playing tricks on him.

But, anyway, her tongue wrapping around his balls felt amazing.

She pressed her soft lips to the sensitive skin and sent shivers through his legs as her fingernails dragged down his tense thighs. He hoped they left marks, or at least lingered for a few hours. Looking down, and those sly eyes were gazing back, like they knew exactly the effect they had on him. Sparkling when her name escaped his lips in a pleading whisper, glinting in the low light as her head tipped back and her tongue curled underneath his balls to lick that thin skin behind him, making him gasp and almost fall over, his palm smacking into the wall to hold him up. A jolt of radiating pain shot up his forearm, and then her hot, wet mouth surrounded him and swallowed his cock as deep as it would go.

He wanted to say he had made a sexy moan, but he was ninety-nine percent sure his neighbors were awake, so instead Jungkook whimpered and rested the crown of his head against the wall, feeling his hair stick to his face. Apparently, his embarrassing vocalizations didn’t matter though, because her head started slowly moving back and forth. Her eyes closed, humming steadily in satisfaction. His breath caught in his throat, forgetting all about the pain and instead drowning in the pleasure that rose like scalding steam. Ecstasy shimmered through every blood vessel in his body. Soft lips, swirling tongue, tight throat that closed in around the swollen head and pulsed, pulling him in deeper, and Jungkook could feel it, his cock twitching and getting harder, the insistent softness on the cusp of not enough, and yet so much was happening. Flexing wet muscle under the head every time she backed up, trapped in that warm sleeve, her cheeks sucking inward and drawing him deeper every time her lips pressed into his crotch, her graceful fingers fanning over his thighs and ass, stroking his tingling skin in time with her tongue.

Holy fuck.

Maybe it was dramatic that last night she saved his life by blowing his dick with such incredible skill, but Jungkook was sticking to this drama.

Wasn’t casual sex supposed to be wham, bam, thank you, next. Not, holy shit, my cock is so fucking deep in her throat I can feel her neck muscles flexing, but perhaps he had done some good deeds or this year was going to be extra prosperous in the sex front (it wasn’t a question that came up much among those elderly fortune tellers his mom visited, how odd). It had to be something like that, because how was he supposed to know the friend of a friend was going to be, one, hot, and, two, down to fuck, and, three, actually good at it?

And, four.

Readily manhandle him. But not in a threatening way. In an unafraid-to-say-and-get-what-she-wanted way. The direct, forward assertiveness was sexy as hell, but Jungkook wasn’t going to tell other people that he liked it when a woman took charge. That wasn’t exactly small talk. It didn’t come up naturally. He didn’t even tell the women he had previously slept with. It hadn’t felt like the right atmosphere. And, well, the sex was just okay. He figured he had to be careful in what he said when he wasn’t sure if they were going to be long term.

He had to cover his ass.

Speaking of.

Her fingernails sank into his ass and dragged down harshly as she tilted her head back. His throbbing cock slid down along the back of her throat, sending uncontrollable tremors up his chest and down his legs, pain and pleasure and perfection.

Jungkook slapped a hand over his mouth and let out a muffled half-scream.

She started focusing exclusively on the head, back and forth, running her tongue over it with her plush lips constricting the base, holy shit, and his eyes rolled back in his head, his hand falling, exhale thin and thinning out even more as he was reaching the end. It was too unexpectedly good, fuck, it made the muscles in his back tremble and his blood boil, o-oh, fuck, made his heart race and his calves strain with tension, I’m gonna c-cum, made his scalp tingle and his mind go blank with pleasure and he never thought an orgasm could be this intense unless he was the one getting himself off, but he was wrong, he was so fucking wrong, because he could feel the tightening in his core spiraling a bit too much and he was going to lose his fucking mind.

He gasped and screamed under his breath.

The high hit him like the sudden violent snap of elastic, so sharp that he was winded and able to feel the muscles of upper thighs spasm, shooting a rather impressive amount down her throat, almost regretful he didn’t pull out so that he could see how much it was, but none of that mattered, ensnared in wave after punishing wave of indecent, gratified lust flinching through his shaking, hard muscles as he felt his cum fill her mouth.

She swallowed.

Jungkook almost punched the wall, the oversensitivity almost painful, his hoarse voice on the verge of cracking.

“C… Careful…. P-Please…”

Those eyes flickering up, and she seemed to understand. Gently, pulling back just a little. He almost buckled at the sensation of the sucking lessening, such a good feeling but overwhelming in the afterglow, and then it was cloud-nine bliss, achingly perfect in the way she carefully slid his cock along her tongue, his twitching length gliding in the puddle of saliva and cum, repeatedly, soaring high like the moon, the thick viscosity creating a slick friction that was wicked heaven.

He wanted to say, oh, yeah, I lasted a long time after that.

He did not.

I’m in trouble.

He realized that the second she got on her knees on his bed, raised her ass, and turned her head back to smirk at him. Made direct eye contact as he tried to hide his gulp and put on the condom, keeping his hands low so she didn’t see them quiver. He was staring a bit too much, but she simply reached over and took his right hand, caressing his tattoos, and then he gasped as his fingers touched slippery wetness, looking down, and was he allowed to fall in love with a beautiful pussy at first glance or not allowed? Fuck, she even had a cute asshole. Was that too dirty to think or what?

Jungkook didn’t contemplate it too much as she slid his fingers into her, the soft, firm walls wrapping around him.

“Ready?” she hummed.

“Y- Yeah…”

In hindsight, he could have said much sexier things other than, yeah, but that was the least of his problems. Getting on his knees, sinking in, and he nearly blacked out with how good it felt. A steady controlled pulse surrounding him. Somehow, his cock became even harder, his fingers splaying out over the juicy curve of her ass, deeper, so tight, and it was all her, that cute face smiling back at him with the tip of her tongue tracing her upper lip. Naughty smirk widening, captivating foxy eyes filled with mirth shining in the darkness of his bedroom.

Jungkook didn’t even care.

He was just trying not to bust a nut at this excessive amount of sensuality that he hadn’t been prepared for.

“You look very sexy with your hair over your face like that.”

He hadn’t even noticed the strands of black covering his vision because he had been too busy looking down.

“Your back looks… oh, f-fuck… looks so beautiful…”

She grinned and lowered herself on his sheets to push back against him.

He had stuttered because her pussy had squeezed him in between his words. There wasn’t any time to be eloquent anyway, not with the sudden need surging through him at this improved angle, his grip on her hips tightening and thrusting his hips forward, wincing at how loud that smack was, surely someone outside heard, but there was nothing he could do about it, didn’t want to stop, couldn’t stop, sinking his teeth into his lower lip and trying not to add any additional noise, wanted to slow down but it felt so good when he was so deep, so tight and choking his shaft, the sensitive head of his cock rubbing against her walls and swelling. Even with the condom he felt so much, pressure and power and intensity, placing a palm on her lower back and groaning between clenched teeth, the arc of her ass so obvious and the bounce so visible that he would dream about it, all of it, the slaps of body to body, thrusting hard, rough, his ears tingling with her low, sexy moans, too good, felt too good, and he wanted to last longer but just couldn’t.

Threw his head back and yelled under his rushing exhale, straining to contain his cry in his chest.

Didn’t last much longer with a new condom and in missionary position either. He kept staring at her pretty face and perky tits, feverish desire racing with every slap of hips-to-hips, his hair falling into his eyes, struggling to see her hands clutching his pillows, and then she arched her back to give him a full view of those perfect, tasty-looking, hard nipples. Honestly, he was proud of himself for lasting the ten minutes that he did. Five minutes. Er, at least he hoped he lasted more than five minutes.

He was sweaty and gasping but he asked anyway.

“Sorry, I… Are you upset at me?”

She tilted her head, confused. “For what? That felt amazing.”

His face burned as he mumbled under his breath.

“I… I usually last longer…”

“Oh.” Blink. “Oh!” She grinned at him, and it was so devious that Jungkook realized this must not be the first time she had heard that. “I don’t care about things like that. But, uh…”

Her sex saved his life.

Her next words murdered him on the spot.

“You know, when you came, uh… I’m sure you were trying to be quiet and all that, but you sounded a bit like one of those faraway screams that happen in movies. You know, when someone gets thrown far away mid-battle. A very tiny, aaaaaaa…”

Not the best sex of his life comparing his orgasm noise to the Wilhelm scream.

You could admit it.

You shouldn’t have said that.

But also shouldn’t people be told of such things so that they became more self-aware? It took everything in you not to burst out laughing in his presence (although you did laugh a lot when you arrived home). And it wasn’t as if you were going to see him again. For a while, anyway. Definitely not the next day at goddamn McDonald’s.

Right?

Wrong.

You gawked at Jungkook until the other guy with him noticed and started staring at you too. Oh, jeez, it was Park Jimin, another one of the guys who had been there last night at the birthday party. You remembered him and his distinctive, bubbly giggling all night. He had a great voice too, making listening to karaoke actually bearable. He was, however, the kind of guy that wanted to be in the know about everything and everyone.

Aw, shit.

You weren’t ready for another repeat of this morning.

Jimin’s round, discerning eyes recognized you immediately even in your casual clothes and lack of makeup. You snapped your head back to your empty paper packaging. Snatched up your cup, pushing away from the window counter and stepping down, winding over to the drinks machine to top off on tea before sprinting it. Hey, McDonald’s wasn’t that cheap anymore. Inflation was a thing. Better get as much as you could before leaving.

You tossed the oily packaging and your napkin before turning around, immediately nearly colliding with Jeon Jungkook.

“Gah!”

“Oh!”

And he grabbed your waist.

Of course, he did.

Your bare waist, because you were wearing a crop top under your heavy coat.

You kept your drink-holding hand out of the way and gasped into his chin, your other hand landing on his left upper arm and squeezing, suddenly tense all over. It was hard and solid under your grip, twice as tense as you were.

“S-Sorry, Jimin pushed me…”

You vaguely heard Jungkook mumbling but you didn’t have time for this, didn’t have time to be let down again by humanity. Didn’t have time for Jeon Jungkook getting into your face about you fucking and dipping, scolding you about being too blunt, and possibly even directly calling you a bitch. Not that you didn’t deserve it. You just didn’t want to find out that cute-faced, criminally-undercover-sexy, surprisingly-a-very-good-fuck Jeon Jungkook could maybe be a shitty person.

Didn’t want to know.

Better not to know.

“S’okay. Let me get out of your way,” you mumbled back, turning your head away.

“You’re not in my way.”

You heard him say it, didn’t believe it, and yet his hands were still around your waist.

“Actually… Please be in my way.”

You froze.

Snapped your head back and found yourself centimeters from Jeon Jungkook’s face.

Oh, I’m in trouble.

He let go of you, slowly, his touch hovering as if you would make a break for it in the middle of this crowded McDonald’s, as if you would bowl over small children and their Happy Meals to escape, sending plastic toys flying in your wake. But you did no such thing, instead holding your breath, realizing how upset you would be if this was another you’re an insensitive whore moment. The truth was that you didn’t care until you did, or at least until you fully comprehended that you were glad to see Jungkook rather than completely indifferent. Why? He hadn’t said anything special. Just, please make it home safely. You had thought that was weird, please. Brushed it off as him being polite or even maybe trying to entice you with that light touch of submissiveness, anything but the possibility of him actually, honestly, straightforwardly caring about your safety.

You learned to expect people not caring for much except for themselves.

“I… Good afternoon,” you managed to get out, stepping closer as a crowd of kids squashed themselves against the drinks fountain, clambering over each other with their paper cups, yelling about how you snooze, you lose even though there was plenty of soda in a fast-food restaurant.

An adult, presumably a guardian, ran over to tell them to quiet down.

“Y… Yeah…” was Jungkook’s strangled reply, startled at you attempting conversation.

You held your sweet tea and tried to lightly bow, but realized that you could hit him in the chin if you did. You stepped aside to avoid that, and then his hand darted out. Stopping. Suddenly aware of what he was doing, stuck on what to do, looking at you helplessly for instruction. This was some love song or romcom movie shit.

No.

This was a goddamn McDonald’s, not awkward-sexual-tension meeting grounds. You grabbed his hand and pulled him along, spinning to find yourself crammed into the table with a grinning Park Jimin and too many shopping bags.

“Oh, hey. Funny seeing you here.”

Jimin was stifling his giggles.

You immediately let go of Jungkook’s hand, your face frozen and expressionless.

“Ah, Jungkook, can you watch my food?” Was it your imagination or did Park Jimin just bat his eyelashes? “I’m gonna go put the gifts in my car.”

Oh no.

“Stay right there!”

Jungkook looked mortified. “Jimin, wait–”

But he did not wait. Ruffled fluffy black hair, mischievous smile, and a whoosh later, those crinkly paper bags gone like a disappearing act, leaving you and your fuck of last night with a half-eaten sandwich and cold fries.

“I… He… I’m sorry,” Jungkook sputtered, jerking erratically.

You clutched your tea like a liquid social safety net. “Sit down. Children are staring at us.”

Sure enough, a small crowd of curious peepers were climbing the low half-wall and peering at you and Jungkook. They were being plucked off one by one by a pair of exasperated ladies who looked like they desperately needed a nap. As soon as one child was removed, another climbed up to take their place. Inquisitive little bundles in brightly colored jackets, pom-pom beanies, and sipping soda from paper cups. Jungkook whipped his head back, exposing his red ears under his bucket hat for half a second, saw the kids, and sat down beside you, turning his back to them.

Now even bigger peepers were directed at you.

“Uh…”

You cleared your throat. Drank some tea. “Erm.”

“I... I didn’t expect to see you here.”

You almost choked on your chuckle. “Yeah, uh… same.” You ticked your head to the outside, in the general direction Jimin had run off too. “Shopping for new year stuff?”

Jungkook shrugged. “Mostly for Jimin’s family. I usually shop online.” He scrunched his face with a little bit of dismay. “It’s too much on the weekends sometimes.”

“Yeah, I’m the same.”

Your knee touched his.

He looked at you.

Don’t look at me like that. I’m gonna want to kiss you.

“And we’re in the middle of a McDonald’s.”

“What?”

You could see stray strands of black brushing against his cheeks. Could see those starry brown eyes under that big bucket hat, those pink lips parted and that small mole underneath them trembling, something you had noticed last night even in the low light because you had been licking up his neck and watching his open mouth, savoring the way his whine travelled by vibration through your insistent lips from his throat.

“I don’t want to make out with you in front of all these children,” you clarified, letting out a slow, concealed breath. “But if you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to make a bad decision.”

People only get into relationships for shitty sex.

Right?

I want to be around him.

“Um… I think Jimin wanted to get an air fryer and who knows what else… I’m supposed to carry the big stuff,” Jungkook grumbled, sounding like he wanted to abandon his current adventure for a different kind of adventure. Still, he begrudgingly remained a good friend. “But tomorrow…?”

You weren’t sure if he was aware that he was getting closer to you, practically thigh-to-thigh and shoulder-to-shoulder, but then you put your hand on his coat sleeve. He froze up, holding his breath. He smelled good. Fresh and clean, like laundry from the dryer. He was close enough for you to clearly discern his scent.

Close enough for you to remember.

“I need to get my tires rotated,” you finally remembered. “I’ll call you.”

His cheeks flushed pink. “C-Call me?”

“Yeah, give me your number.”

She asked for it like it was easy.

Who cares? Jungkook determined, after all, that he was easy. Or at least his hands were hurriedly fumbling with his phone as he blurted out the numbers as calmly as he could, which was probably not that calm, but who cared? Not him and definitely not his dick.

“Thanks. Don’t forget to answer or I’ll feel dumb.”

“Wait, give me your number.”

She paused, glancing at him. Shivers all over when their eyes connected, and he was sure he saw a guarded flicker in those eyes, but then it was let go, her lashes lowering, casting away the unknown reservation that he hoped she could tell him one day. And yet she stayed silent, turning her phone over in her hand.

“I want it,” he breathed.

Her eyes shifted back up. Ghost of a smirk on those lips.

Like she was trying to hold back.

“I’m going to give it to you,” she whispered to him, and he had to lean in, no, wanted to lean in and the scent of her perfume caught him, sweet and smokey, all those memories flashing back, in the dark with fistfuls of his sheets and breathing in, his pillows, his blanket, his clothes, heavenly and arousing. “Just saying I come with a warning label.”

“What kind of warning?” Jungkook found himself asking even though he was desperate to indulge in this risky business.

“I’ll never let your last that long,” she purred with a smug smile. “Don’t give up, okay?”

Jungkook felt his cheeks burn as he typed down the number and kept his retort to himself because Jimin suddenly appeared and the conversation was abruptly over. He jerked his head away quickly as she mouthed a tiny aaaa under her breath, teasing him, and this was a bad decision but he answered the call anyway when it came.

What are you doing? You don’t do relationships. People don’t like the way you do things. They’re complicated and full of secrets. They can’t be honest. You’re too honest. It doesn’t work.

Your intrusive thoughts had worked the graveyard shift and were now doing overtime.

They don’t like you.

You weren’t that surprised at these thoughts. You also did the absolute most when fucking and probably not enough outside of fucking. Some would call this karma. You would call it a nuisance. Shut the fuck up, brain. You already knew all this. You knew and you muted all that sound, all that excess noise that warned of tomorrow being ruined, chose to shut it all out until there was nothing but the melody of Jeon Jungkook’s bated breath.

You could listen to your head and let those thoughts fuck everything up.

Or you could place your fingertips on Jungkook’s lower lip and feel his gasp travel through your nerves, feel the way your blood shimmered in your veins and raced faster. Caress that pink curve to stop at his lip rings, tangible, hard and soft juxtaposed. Breathe out, your eye line lifting, up, finding those large dark brown orbs surrounded by wispy black tendrils.

Jungkook wanted you.

That was pretty obvious, especially from his hands trying to slide up your skirt.

He was just waiting for you to start it off.

You could listen to your head or choose to feel and listen to your instincts, dangerous as it was.

I’m in so much trouble, fuck.

You knew it, and yet you leaned in and kissed him anyway. Something about him, the way his eyes instantly closed when you came close, the way he trusted your eyes wouldn’t stay open, the way his lips gave in to your insistence, no, yearned for it, his fingernails sinking into your hips and yanking you close, onto his lap and into his heat, and then it was darkness and tongue and breathing into his mouth, hot and unnerving and addictive.

You hadn’t even noticed you had closed your eyes until you felt your hands sliding into his hair. Barely even perceived how you held your breath when your chest pressed against his, gasping, too many clothes in between and all the anticipation, dancing your nails over his scalp and sucking on his tongue, his melodious moan melding with your heartbeat roaring in your ears.

What is this?

You rolled your hips into his lap and Jungkook groaned, breaking the kiss and tipping his head back, his hardness twitching between your legs, insistently pressing up through his sweatpants as his neck became exposed. And there was nothing you wanted to do but press your lips to that mole on his neck, tasting that tan skin and inhaling his scent, wanting to be covered in it, drenched in it, dancing kisses up his jaw and catching his ear with your teeth, tugging on his hair and rocking your hips back and forth, turning hot friction into hot, damp friction.

“I c-can’t…”

His moan rang in your ears, his fingers pushing up the sides of your panties and driving them into the crevice of your ass, creating a damn thong with too much fabric.

“Can’t t-take it anymore…”

Pulled hard and you gasped, feeling the slinky fabric slip in between your folds, soaked and soaking, strong hips knocking into that dug-in fabric and practically bouncing your pulsing pussy on his rock-hard erection.

You curled your arm around his head and tipped his face to yours, seeing his glassy eyes and open mouth, his shaking breath feathering against your chin, and if Jeon Jungkook was a liar, then he was a damn good one, one of those liars so deep in the lie that it started becoming truth.

He whispered your name in the shared air, between his and your trembling lips.

He’s too desperate to be a liar.

You closed the distance between lips and tangled your tongues in the tango, lifting your hips at the same time, smiling at his whine before silencing it by pulling his hand between your legs, pushing the thin fabric aside, and then the collective sigh. Yours, shivering satisfaction. His, driven desire, fingers exploring and sending shivers through your legs. Wet and slippery and soft. Pressing his face into your neck and then gasping when his soft lips pressed to your throat, light kisses and wanton need, his other hand sliding up your sweater, pushing it up.

I want you.

He slid two fingers into you and moaned into your skin, slow, pressing his touch into your clenching walls, his eyes closed under you. In, out, building pleasure, your hips following, riding his hand, deeper, intense, hard, his tongue licking your collarbone and your lashes fluttered, suddenly overcome by shivers.

“I w-want you…”

He gasped against your throat, almost a whimper, those pleading eyes half-opening. Pulling out slightly and rubbing slow circles that made your hips flinch, his fingertips brushing against your slick clit, and those brown eyes darkened, tipping his head back to watch your face. His fingers on your waist tightening, holding you in place, shifting his fingertips, and you bit back a hiss, locking your knees, staring back into his starstruck eyes that showed you everything he was as he stroked your clit, igniting all your nerves and scorching your skin in passionate flames.

You saw what Jungkook was saying.

He wanted you so bad, not just a little, not just for a couple orgasms, not just for every night but also every day, even every afternoon and every twilight and every dead of night. Every kiss, every touch, every look into the eyes telling you this meant more to him than casual and for some reason it didn’t feel like a burden.

Casual sex could only stay casual if both people got the memo.

Suddenly, you realized neither you nor him were getting the damn memo.

You leaned forward and breathed in his exhale, squeezing his hips with your thighs, harder, yes, so good, fast and harsh and closer, closer, pulsing sensitivity escalating, your fingers tangled into his long black hair, entangled moans slipping out, fuck, yes, I’m close, Jungkook, fuck, and he was good but this was more than skill, more than half-lidded eyes and your hand falling, tracing his jaw, biting back your orgasm until…

Until.

“I could stare at you forever,” you breathed.

Closed your eyes and moaned into his mouth, the high crashing down, leaking all over his fingers and causing his touch to slip, dripping down, everywhere, all over the front of his pants and down your legs, and there was no time to care, dragging Jungkook into kiss after kiss, driven by snaking pleasure coursing through your veins. His wet fingers grasped your thigh, kneading the softness, his whines trapped by kisses, begging for your legs against his naked chest.

How could you refuse him?

You just couldn’t.

I’m so fucked.

Truly, madly, deeply fucked.

Past in trouble and actually in danger, danger, you’re seconds away from cumming, clenching his jaw and grinding his teeth so he felt something else, anything, please, clutching fistfuls of his sheets and wondering why the fuck the condom wasn’t reducing any sensation because, holy fuck, his cock was trapped in a hot, slippery, tight sleeve that pulsed around his twitching, hard length every time he descended. He couldn’t think, could barely breathe, could do nothing but follow that carnal instinct to thrust over and over, deep as possible, the angle so good he closed his eyes so they didn’t roll back into his head even though he was hopelessly losing his mind at the sensations of her, so soft, so intense, so good his legs were shaking with tension, the rhythmic smacking obscenely loud, rattling bedframe echoing throughout his bedroom.

“H-Harder,” she gasped breathlessly.

Harder?!

Was she trying to kill him?

She lifted her hips and Jungkook knew he was fucked.

He threw all of his energy into his hips and sunk his teeth into his lower lip, his lip rings hitting his teeth. Metal hitting bone. Screaming in his head and tightening his vocal chords, thankful to see her eyes closing, her head tipping back, low satisfied moan of his name travelling to in his ears and then all that he was keeping together shattered and slammed into him, heat rushing and mind-numbing, euphoric high punching all the air out of his lungs, visceral tension snapping at his hips and now he was pumping the condom full, o-o-oh, fuuuuck, her walls shivering and amplifying the good feeling of sexual intoxication, his vision a blur, only now realizing all the sweat sliding down his back and forehead, his damp hair swinging down over his eyes, and maybe lasting a only a couple minutes but it was a damn good couple of minutes if Jungkook was allowed to say so himself.

He was panting, hardly able to catch his breath.

It wasn’t enough.

Fuck, he was so horny and he was barely recovering from his first orgasm. Didn’t know what came over him. A wave of insanity? Inconsolable craving? Willful sacrifice of his soul to the sex goddess in his bed right now? Dramatic, sure. Casual, no, pushing his palms against the bed, shuddering as he pulled out of that tight warmth, almost regretting it, but then he looked down. At the shiny slickness, his white cum swollen at the end of the condom. He gripped the opening and pulled down, peeling it off with a whine, and Jungkook was pretty sure he was overwhelmingly crazy or overwhelmingly horny or both, because why else would he scoot his knees up and start jacking his spent dick like a madman, whimpering at the sensitivity and the slippery friction and the scene before him – her legs lowering from his shoulders, those curious eyes glinting under him, her soft, bouncy breasts rising and falling rapidly in her heavy breathing, fuck, so sexy, so fucking sexy, faster, tighter, staring at those hard nipples he wanted in his mouth right now, so fucking bad.

He let his eyes flicker up.

Gasping, baring his depravity.

She smirked, her tongue tracing the edge of her upper lip.

“Cum on me, Jungkook.”

Words so simple that they could be said by anyone, but this was different, this was too much intensity, too much irresistible pleasure, too much too sure about this feeling, this moment, this connection, and then her fingertips slid up his hard, tense, trembling thigh, sinking her fingernails in and dragging down, those stings of pain sending him over the edge.

“A-Ah, fuck!”

His eyes rolled back and his hips pitched forward, flinching powerfully and shooting cum over her stomach, up her cleavage, sudden streak of white glistening against her skin, jolts of aching bliss penetrating his quivering muscles. Shared gasp, everything smelling like sex, his bedsheets, his clothes, his skin, mixing with her perfume. Sweet like candy and heavy like lust.

Jungkook wanted to douse himself in it.

Her cum and her perfume.

He pressed the dark, purple-red, swollen head of his twitching cock to her cum-covered stomach and moaned, dragging it across and slipping further and further into blinding oversensitivity, on the edge of too much but he liked it, fuck, he liked it more and more as he saw her sly smirk and foxy eyes sparkle, savoring his reactions. It made him want to give in to this side of him more.

Her hand lifted, fingers curling around his chin, stroking his lower lip with her thumb.

“You’re so sexy, Jungkook. I love the way you look at me.”

Something about the way she said it, making him feel that she really meant it.

No, know that she really meant what she said.

His heart fluttered. Took flight.

No.

Soared.

They really were such simple words, nothing complicated at all, and that was how Jungkook knew.

He was sure.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

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newtkive · 3 months

Text

practice - carmen berzatto

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader, mentioned platonic marcus x reader

summary: The sudden changes at your work prove to be a lot to keep up with, but Carmy notices your efforts where you think he’s just a tough boss. He proves to be more than that when he finds you pulling an all-nighter at the restaurant.

wordcount: 3.8k

warnings: none really, anxious reader, ooc!carmen (he would never let mistakes fly like this lmao), kinda fluff at the end

a/n: this is basically how i would react working there bc i almost have an anxiety attack every ep watching carmy yell at everyone. sorry for any typos!

The fast moving pace that Carmen Berzatto brought to The Beef was something extraordinary. The skill of his professional chef background was carried over into the small hole in the wall that otherwise would have never changed if it wasn’t for him.

His drive was contagious, even infecting the staff you knew like the back of your hand. You never would have thought your coworkers, ever comfortable with a stagnant pace, would become accustomed to such change around their second home.

It was great to see your favorite people quickly see their own potential thanks to Carmy’s vision. The only problem was you.

You were falling behind, and quickly.

You tried to convince yourself you could keep up as things changed. But your mind was faster than your barely skilled hands and you were terrible at cutting ingredients evenly during a rush and you always somehow got sliced or burnt and your eyes always stung from the onions you were stuck prepping because that was the one job you couldn’t fuck up but hated— to put it simply, you sucked.

The faces of your coworkers reflected what you feared every time you turned around to take a breath, heels of your hands rubbing tears from your eyes as Carmy screamed profanities at the crew. Tina’s eyes would linger on you, brows raised and silently asking if you were okay. You would nod and blink the tears away before jumping back in. By the end of every shift Ebraheim would pat you on the back before leaving, and Sydney would send you a small, sympathetic smile and wave while you tied your shoes on the bench near the locker.

Each time you could see the sympathy in their eyes and it made you hate yourself even more.

You were used to sandwiches; assembling simple ingredients between a hoagie bun on a slow Sunday surrounded by the people you called family. Cracking jokes here and there, no pressure to make things completely perfect, which ended up making things perfect. So much so that regulars even seemed disappointed to see you up at the register some days instead of in the kitchen assembling their lunch.

Carmy wasn’t blind, he could see exactly what was going on, which was why he didn’t pick on you as much as he did when he first arrived.

The first couples of weeks that Carmy was there he noticed the difference in your station compared to everyone else’s. Organized, cohesive, clean—save for the multiple drinks you always had. You worked at your own pace, not slow but definitely not up to par with Carmen’s standards. You made it work though, cutting ingredients almost perfectly and whipping up sandwiches and other specialties not a second too late.

The change happened when Carmy upped the stakes and encouraged—or yelled at—everyone to be as quick as they possibly could. His yelling was off putting, and you didn’t respond well to much other than positive reinforcement.

The chef didn’t notice until the uneven bread and too-thin tomato slices lead back to you. He was quick, marching over to you with a purpose; if it was a cartoon, his hair would be alight with fire. “Chef!” His voice was hard and urgent, because he didn’t have time to deal with this.

As he approached, he noticed your hands shaking as you held the dull shitty knife, head whipping up and cheeks red, all but heaving from the pressure. So much pressure.

“Yes Chef?” You asked attentively, waiting for him to explode.

Carmen had all intentions to do just that, tear you a new one, tell you that you’ve been here long enough to know how to cut a fuckin’ tomato the right way but he paused. The look in your eye was wild and scared. His face fell, obvious turmoil behind his blue eyes causing a change in his decision. You waited with bated breath, but what you were expecting never came.

Instead, Carmen did his best to be calm and set his hand on the counter, leaning a bit. “I want you to show me how to slice that tomato.” He said.

“What?” You were confused and it was clearly written on your face. So were your nosy coworkers who exchanged looks and shrugged, expecting the young man to wail on you with his words.

Looking over your shoulder at the others, you tried to exchange weary looks with anyone but Carmy pulled you back in with his words. “Don’t worry about their shit. C’mon, show me.” He said again, motioning to the tomato sitting on the cutting board, looking at you expectantly.

After a beat of weariness you did what he asked. With an exhale your knife pierced the red skin and cut it, your wrist dragging it back and forth to cut all the way through. You gave a few more slices, doing your best to ignore his scrutinizing gaze.

Reviewing your slices, you mentally pat yourself on the back at the sight of them perfectly even and a fairly thin. You turned to look at Carmy, and he seemed to have an epiphany as he stood there holding his chin. Eyes flickering up to you, he nodded. “You know what that showed me?” He asked, and before you could answer he continued. “You’re competent, you did that shit with a dull knife. Don’t cut ‘em too thick or too thin, you have no excuses.”

He should feel ridiculous, like he was coaching a baby how to do the easiest job in the world, but for some reason Carmen was able to swallow his irritation and try to guide you.

You nodded, back straightening and hands sweaty. “Yes, Chef.”

Carmy was about to walk off but stopped himself, turning back around, eyes boring into yours as he grew more serious. “You hear me yelling, you listen, but I need you to focus, Chef. You can do this shit, I’ve seen you pull through before. Don’t let my mouth get to your fuckin’ head.” He said low enough just for the both of you to hear.

He was close, blue eyes staring right at you, the smell of the kitchen clinging onto his apron. It should’ve been intimidating, and it was a little, but you knew this was his version of offering comfort and maybe even some sort of apology.

“Heard, Chef.” You said just as quietly back.

There was a second of him staring, before he simply walked away without another word, leaving you to your own devices. Whatever he said seemed to put some perspective into your work, because you didn’t have anys setbacks for the rest of the day.

On the way home, sitting on the train with headphones in your ears and a jacket wrapping you up tight, Carmy’s words swirled in your head. You knew you could do this, and you could somewhat see in Carmy’s eyes that he had faith in you too. It was just a new world you were all suddenly thrown into and it was hard finding your place. On days where you felt like a baby fawn standing on shaky legs, wobbling and failing to find your footing, you had to keep going.

A single word rang in your mind.

Practice.

Your apartment was pretty small and shared with a roommate, so you lacked the accommodations and tools to really do all you wanted. Aside from that, you didn’t want to be the rude roomie who clashed pans in the kitchen all night long. So, as you made your way off the train you didn’t leave the station. Instead, you waited for the next ride to the city and headed straight for The Beef.

The sun set as you approached the back door, humming a tune as you pulled out a spare key—one that definitley would be confiscated once Carmy found out about it, probably clambering about it not being safe in the foreseeable future—from under the fuse box outside and unlocked the door.

You entered the kitchen, brows immediately raising as you saw all of the kitchen lights on. Slowly moving forward, a sense of anxiety grew as you knew no one would usually be here except for Carmy, and you really did not want to get a talking to from him right now.

Turning the corner, you sighed in relief when you saw the familiar stature that belong to Marcus. He had his phone out, recipe pulled up in front of him and a song playing softly from the speakers that he sang along to. You chuckled softly, alerting him of your presence. Head snapping up at the sound, he almost looked like a deer in the headlights as he met your eyes.

Similarly to you, he let out a relieved sigh and sent you a smile. “Scared me, Y/N.” He laughed softly, hands whisking again.

“Sorry.” You apologized, tugging your coat off. “What’re you doing here, man?” You asked as you headed over to the lockers and shoved your stuff away.

Marcus shrugged. “Could ask you the same thing.”

“Practice.” You said simply, shrugging and tying your apron around your waist. Approaching the kitchen, you started gathering a few clean pots to start your work.

Humming and nodding, Marcus gave you a knowing grin. “Same here.” There was a beat of comfortable silence as you gathered a knife, cutting board, and an onion before washing your hands. “I actually stay here sometimes overnight. It’s easier, that way I won’t waste time going back and forth from home.” Marcus explained.

Surprise filled your features and you sent him an impressed look. “Wow, no wonder you’re getting better fast.”

He chuckles bashfully, filling another mixing bowl with flour and whatever else he desired. “Eh, I guess.” The shrug of his shoulders made you laugh before you turned back to your own work.

With one last question of Marcus asking if you minded his music, and you affirming that you didn’t mind at all, he turned the dial on his bluetooth radio up and you both fell into a comfortable rhythm; Marcus in his corner and you on the stovetop.

By the end of the evening you prepared a vibrant beef braciole dish that a few of the others had been practicing since Carmy introduced it. You brought it to one of the stainless steel counters with two forks, setting it next to the two pieces of cake Marcus had sliced up from his recipe of the evening.

You both dug in, humming in satisfaction as you tasted each other’s creations, sharing impressed and ‘holy shit’ expressions that made the other laugh.

“This is fantastic.” Marcus said, another mouthful of beef being added to his mouth.

You laughed and shook your head, muttering a thank you, trying to swallow down your surprise. Marcus could tell, because he doubled down. “No, really, Y/N. This is the best one I’ve tasted yet, aside from the big Chef.” He said with a grin.

Shaking your head, you gave him your appreciation. “Thank you, Chef. I can say the same thing from you.” You motioned with your fork to the cake. In truth, his words pushed you and affected you more than you lead on.

The both of you fell into a rhythm, whipping up treats and savory meals almost every day after work. Marcus playing music at his own station, you timing yourself relentlessly to try and replicate the fast pace of the open hours of the restaurant. You sometimes even found yourself staying overnight, taking turns with Marcus to use his sleeping bag—he insisted where you didn't want to overstep, but sleep called you and his pillow was comfy.

Relentless practice proved to keep you on track and up to pace with everyone else, slowly but surely. The impressed glances shared between Tina and Sydney every time you had them taste a dish or were quicker than usual were enough, but Carmen was ever the critic. A new menu soon graced The Beef alongside their regular sandwiches, and it was a tough menu to master. You almost had them all down pat, practicing relentlessly for almost four weeks now after work.

However, every time you presented a steaming spoonful of stew, or a perfect bite of chicken piccata that everyone else in the kitchen seemed to love, Carmen would bite into it, hum, and shake his head. "Good." He said every time.

"Good like.. good good? Or good but start over, it's trash, throw it away?" You would ask, clearly waiting with baited breath on a slow day.

Carmy shook his head again. "It's not ready yet, Chef." And then he would be off to collect more expo receipts and leave you there disappointed, shoulders deflating in defeat.

"I think it's great, Chef." Marcus would smile, hands busy working on dough for his unmastered donuts. You would offer a sad smile in return, marching off to assemble another hoagie and handing your failed dish to a waiting Richie in exchange for an appreciative rub of his hands together. The negative feedback only spurred you to improve your craft as much as you could.

It was a rare occasion that Marcus didn't stay at the restaurant overnight. He left early in a frenzy after a phone call, muttering something about his mom's nurse needing him. Offering comfort wasn't your strongest suit, so you bid him luck and made a mental note to bring him his favorite coffee during work later in hopes to cheer him up.

At the same time you were plating what felt like your dozenth chicken piccata of the week, soft footsteps approached the kitchen. As soon as the timer went off behind you, you whipped around and hit the top, a harsh exhale and wipe of your forehead following the silence. You felt proud, plating and finishing your dish in record time without any hiccups.

A soft chuckle brought you out of your stupor, head snapping up to meet bright blue eyes from across the kitchen. There stood Carmy with his unruly curls, white tee and brown jacket he was beginning to pull off. In place of his usual stoic face was an amused expression, clearly not expecting to see someone in the kitchen at this hour.

You froze at the sight of him, but his soft smile eased your shoulders a bit. “Smells good.” Carmy said as if it was the most casual thing, hanging his jacket by the lapels on a hook. He sat on the bench, beginning to change his shoes into nonslip ones.

Stuttering, your cheeks turned pink. “O-oh, uhhh, thanks.”

“You’re here early.” He said back, standing now and readying to tug on his apron.

Brows furrowed, you looked above him to glance at the kitchen clock. Big red numbers read 6:15 AM and your brows raised in shock. Before you had a chance to respond, he walked closer, beginning to talk again. “I’ve noticed you and Marcus are always here before anyone else.”

You shrugged, nervous smile gracing your lips as they upturned slightly. “Ah, yeah. We both wanted to practice. Y’know, catch up with everyone else.” You explained. Conveniently, you decided to not mention the instances of spending the night, figuring it would be a little to embarrassing or earn you a talking to.

Carmy was now approaching the other side of the counter where you stood, hands tapping the steel. His little smug smile didn’t leave his lips as he nodded. “I also noticed a few things missing from our inventory.” His words were clearly teasing, but they made your face run pale.

“Fuck, I'm sorry, Chef. Take it from my paycheck, please—I didn’t even consider—“ The rambling was embarrassing, and his head shake cut you off.

“No, stop, Y/N. I'm teasing you.” Carmy laughed softly with a small smile, clearly endeared. The use of your name made you bashful.

A beat of silence followed, your mouth opening and closing like a fish. Carmy glanced behind you at the dish that laid perfectly plated, motioning to it with his hands. “Let’s see if your hard work is paying off.”

Blinking in surprise, you obediently nodded and turned to grab the dish. Sliding it in front of him, you gathered a fork and knife. Carmy grasped the utensils with a ‘thank you’, fingers brushing yours. It didn’t take long for the chef to dig in, eyes immediately closing once the first bite hit his taste buds.

“So.. what do you think?” You plucked up the courage to ask after he swallowed.

Carmy looked up at you, lips curling upwards and a proud look dawning his features. “Great, as usual.”

Usually those words would make you excited, but Carmy had a habit of complimenting your dishes before declaring how they weren’t good enough just yet. You simply nodded, swallowing thickly as he took another bite and savored the taste. “What should I change?” You asked, straightening your back in preparation for the inevitable criticism.

Humming, Carmy shook his head, the same amused look as before coming back. “Nothing, Chef. It’s perfect.” He said firmly. Those words made your breath leave your lungs, hands becoming clammy, and before you knew it you were grinning.

“Really?” You asked, not able to keep your excitement together.

Carmy let out a full laugh at that. “Really.” He confirmed.

You clapped your hands together before covering your face, hiding the grin as best you could. It had been awhile since you felt so elated due to cooking, and you weren’t quite sure what to do with yourself. You felt like the whole month of dedicating your time to cooking was culminating to this moment. Carmen watched you with soft eyes, taking in how happy his words made you. You turned back to him, giving up hiding how ecstatic you were. “I braised it differently this time, could you tell? Well, obviously you could if it’s good this time.” You rambled on, a bit of a giggle in your voice.

“It’s always this good, Y/N.” Carmy suddenly said. His words had you pausing, tilting your head playfully. Hand trailing along the counter, he rounded it to stand next to you.

"What do you mean?" You asked, smile falling a bit. The man's words echoed in your head and you looked around the room as if to try and find meaning from his statement. Surely he didn't have you remake the dish for no reason, right? But Carmy's strong posture and raised brows, waiting for you to figure it out yourself, made you think that's exactly what he did. Sobering up, you scoffed and crossed your arms as you sent him a look. "Are you serious? This whole time..." You trailed off.

"Yes, this whole time." He said, leaning on the counter with one hand, eyes not leaving you. "I needed you to bust your ass, Chef. I knew you needed the practice, so I gave you the motive." Carmy explained. The scrunch of your nose made his chest hum with something warm, akin to looking at a kicked puppy that he wanted to scoop up and reassure. Guilt washed over him a little bit as he feared he was acting more and more like his old Chef, but he pushed those feelings down as best he could. He did this for the right reasons, unlike that dickhead in New York did to him. There was no berating and preying on insecurities, just some tough love.

Sighing, you were torn between being angry and feeling grateful that Carmy saw this potential in you. You didn't know what to say, so you blurted out exactly how you felt. "I'm embarrassed."

Carmy frowned, ducking his head to catch your eyes where you looked down a bit. "Why are you embarrassed?" His voice was soft, tiptoeing as to not make you more upset.

Allowing him to meet your eyes, you curled into yourself at the attention. "Because I've made a fool of myself these past few months." You murmured, spilling your guts to your new boss for some reason that you didn't know. Maybe it was the quiet kitchen, or the sudden defeat you felt, but your mouth was faster than your mind.

A small 'no, no, no' left Carmy and he shook his head, reaching a hand out to place on your shoulder. "Don't be. I came in and turned shit upside down, it just took you a bit more practice to get the hang of things." His hand started to rub your arm comfortingly, leaving heat where he touched. You knew this must have been a form of an apology in his own way. The words didn't come easy to Carmen, but he tried to convey it the best he could.

Leaning forward, Carmy mustered his best stern expression, wanting to keep your gaze so you couldn't look away and distract yourself from his next words. Your breath caught in your throat, not used to this proximity. "I'm proud of you. You should be proud of yourself too."

Heat encapsulated your cheeks and you nodded, spurring him to nod as well. "Okay."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

As soon as Carmy saw your shy smile he gave one right back to you. Still close, he radiated heat that made it all the more difficult to calm the butterflies growing in your stomach. Eyes never leaving each other's, the air grew tense as the dust settled. Unlike the usual sandwich smell, an aroma of a clean linen scent came off of him as you realized he must have showered before coming here. Carmy never would admit it, but your perfume filled the air for him, making him linger longer than he should have. The blink of your stare looking up at him made Carmy's chest tighten, and he immediately pulled himself out of whatever trance he was in.

Clearing his throat, Carmy let go of your shoulder and backed up a bit. "No more all-nighter's here. Okay, Chef?" He tried to seem playful to rid himself of awkwardness and whatever that just was.

Mouth falling open, you gaped at him. "How did you know?!"

Hands up in surrender, Carmy just shrugged. "A Chef never tells his secrets," He began, heading over to the drying rack to busy himself, playfully adding, "And someone kept leaving the spare key out, so I figured." The smirk he sent you made you grin and roll your eyes.

Carmy would never tell you he knew because that's what he used to do. Before he got the hang of things in his earlier days as a chef, late nights in the restaurant kitchen and a half hour of sleep was the norm for him. As you began cleaning up your work the chef's gaze lingered on you, blue eyes studying your form with a thoughtful look. Carmy shook his head, smiling to himself and starting his work. He reckoned he saw himself in you more than ever.

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #the bear #the bear imagine #carmy berzatto imagine #x reader #carmen berzatto imagine

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soulrph · 10 months

Text

chaotic unhinged lines from 2022-2023 (prompt edition).

basically in 2021 i made a list of prompts inspired by lines in tiktok videos and instagram reels that made me laugh so hard i cried! and now i have returned with another list! these may provide an alarmingly clear image of what my sense of humor is (aka broken) but i figure a little levity is always a good thing! more prompts are forthcoming, but in the mean time: bon appetit!

knowledge has always chased you, but you've always been faster.

no... no, that was mango apathy juice. from the farmer's market.

of all these people, you are the one i understand the least. i want to get to know you better, but like, not that much better.

i-i will CHEW YOUR MEAT!! WHAT are you doing?!

ooooh god, no, you wouldn't be long getting frostbit!

you are evil. like a hobbit.

WHY MUST YOU FAIL ME SO OFTEN?!?!!?

i have had a perfectly wonderful evening, but this wasn't it.

AHEM!! fill my cup.

may god ignore you like you ignored my greetings.

i will avenge you mister van gogh.

call off work bestie, we need you to solve a murder. here's fifteen dollars.

you're not in love. you may think you are, you dumb fuck, but you're not.

go ahead and put the ranch away.

sadly, "hopefully" doth butter no parsnips.

forget school, i want to be an italian sandwich.

you shouldn't skip work, you are a lawyer and he is a hamster.

you can stop roleplaying now. you're free.

her coupon game was so fucking raw.

i'm sorry guys... he's making a salad.

you could get a straight guy here if you learned to make a good pasta. i'll teach you how to make a risotto that'll get you married and out of my basement.

hey, do you want me to get together a plate of roast beef and hide it in our room so we can have night meats?

it's not the most ethical thing in the world, but in a pinch you can hand off a cursed object to basically any baby.

no, children, you're wrong. once upon a time, there was a piece of wood.

and i'm not saying she deserved it, but i am saying that god's timing is always riiiiight.

hydrate or die-drate, ya DICK!

why did the monkey fall out of the tree? because it was DEAD.

new york city is a fictional place written up by someone with a sinister mind and a knack for comedy.

this is grindr my guy.

wait, i didn't finish teaching you the difference between human and wolf anatomy.

it's time to tell your grandmother that she was wrong. do not be afraid.

vanilla vodka... you fucking child.

without ash to rise from, a phoenix would just be a bird getting up.

you are fucking alive. do what you want.

why are you cradling me like a baby, friend? this isn't how guys of my generation hang out.

i hope a hedgehog shits in your cereal, you difficult person.

you know, i am not as mean as i would like to be. and i think people should appreciate that more.

see, i am not a kangaroo.

well, i'd like to help, but... you see... not as much as i'd like not to.

rest in peace you fucking onion fairy.

when god sings with all his creations, will a turtle not be part of the choir?

i fight for a seat in heaven, every. single. day.

map maker? can you find me somewhere on the map where this big man thinks he's the king?

you bald-headed demon...

so... there are 24 million pigs in australia... and 24 million people... so if you ever feel lonely, there's like, a pig out there that's sort of your cosmic twin.

remember, alcohol is god's apology for making us self-aware.

i'm straight!! stop CONFUSING me!!!!!

you guys want something to eat? because... i know we'll die if we don't eat.

he is a BIBLICALLY gorgeous man. i wanna feed him grapes. i wanna fan him with the frond of a date palm from the forests of Lebanon. i wanna find the alabaster vial of perfume oil that one woman broke for jesus and comb it through his hair. like... he's stressing me OUT.

i'm not sad! i'm freaking HUNGRY!

maybe, if we wait a little bit longer, a fuck will fall into my hand, and i can give it to you.

it's not my fault you thought you lived in this IKEA.

let's leave my mother out of this.

jason may kill people but he's not bad enough to kick a dog.

i run for LUMP!

oh no, i'm all out of caring, baby!

you don't think it mcbe that way... but it mcdo.

what is this enticing bowl of white?

serious question, do his nipples sparkle?

what in the reese's peanut butter fuck is going on here?

if your parents don't buy it, stop loving them!

i just hope you know just how much you've decreased productivity today.

that was poetry at its FINEST.

and if you let that motherfucker shenan ONCE, you best believe they're gonna shenanIGAN!

may god bless the dinosaur that died to make the fossil fuel that was treated to become petrol in the car that took her mom to the hospital to give birth to her.

that's modern milk for ya. what a time to be alive.

you have attachment issues. please fix it.

remember when people had secrets? we should bring that back.

the moon landing was an elaborate marriage proposal.

i don't like the cobra chicken.

i didn't know eggs were this expensive? it's time to lay my own, i fear.

so you're saying the reason i don't have a girlfriend is because i'm not a big enough threat yet.

god gave him a top lip, that's why he's so powerful.

it's a common mistake, but frankenstein was actually the author.

i finally got a pocket-sized diary!!! also i don't get the concept of life.

if a beautiful woman disagrees with me, i will immediately change my view. i've no principles.

how did you all end up married to such boiled potatoes?

if so much as one tear drops from their eye... i will slap you back into your mum.

you are ringing a phone that does not like to be rung.

look how Dr. doofenschmirtz had a fucked up childhood but didn't project his trauma onto his teenage daughter. he projected it onto a platypus.

it is mathematically impossible for you to get a wedgie.

i'm breaking up with you. i love you, it's just... i don't think you could protect me from a mummy.

if you can't do fractions....... you will fucking die.

that's right; in the year 1791, all of our bottoms were killed in a Big Bottom Massacre.

people always assume i'm mean. like CAN you BELIEVE THAT CRAP?! like WHAT would make you think i'm MEAN?! I'M THE NICEST PERSON ON THE PLANET!

the chocolate milk is strikingly overpriced and at the same time very easy to steal; another of god's little tests.

someone's gotta tell the waiter that i ordered mashed 'taters and it sure as shit ain't gonna be me.

if i had a week i couldn't list all the reasons that wouldn't work.

#rp meme #roleplay meme #sentence starters #dialogue prompts #writing prompts

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astermath · 11 months

Text

nemesis

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary: you made carmen’s life hell in culinary school, except you had no idea. now he finds out you run a restaurant in Chicago, and he’s confronted with the emotions he projected onto you.

word count: 2.9K

notes: kinda got inspired by the lyric "I'm the sweetest girl in town so why are you so mean?" by lana del rey but this was prompted by this ask!!! anyway this starts off in carmy's culinary school era and then goes to somewhere around the start of S1. this will def get a part two!!

♡ LANDING PAGE ♡

warnings: cursing, slight mention of suicidal thoughts, angst

comment if you’d like to be added to the tag list for further carmen berzatto related content!

You were like the average person's depiction of an angel.

You were so incredibly good at what you did, excelling in every class they got, you were unanimously liked by everyone, always helping out your peers and taste testing, and for all he knew you probably fucking rescued baby polar bears in your spare time too.

You were perfect.

And he couldn't stand it.

Always saying good morning to him, with that sickeningly sweet smile, soft hands easily preparing the dishes he struggled to perfect. And that wasn't even the worst part. Because the teachers loved you too.

"Such an interesting spin on the use of this ingredient."

"I can tell you've really perfected this technique."

"What a unique combination of flavors..."

And they were right. Of course they were right, it's like you were a machine crafted in some kind of lab to outcook him in every way possible.

And it was stupid to be jealous, to almost hate you over it, because he was excelling too. But you were excelling more. His praise seemed worthless compared to yours, and he couldn't even dream of making the kind of connections you seemed to make with the other students.

So he grew to resent you. Even when he went to go work in New York, he couldn't shake the image of you standing in the corner of his kitchen, humming softly while chopping vegetables as you received all the praise he longed for. Some would say his hatred bordered on obsession, he would tell them it’s none of their fucking business.

Over the years, he’d managed to at least slightly shake the image of you in his kitchen, though at his lowest points, he couldn’t help but think of you. Of course Mikey was his primary motivation, but he couldn’t help but feel like possibly surpassing your success spurred him on too. But then again, what success? For all he knew, you quit cooking altogether, he hadn’t heard from you since he left for New York. That was, up until a few days ago.

It had been so busy already, and Carmen was spent trying to keep up with the pace of this business running on its last legs. He groaned into his hands, before going back to chopping tomatoes for his sauce.

“Hi! Can I just get a braised beef sandwich to go?”

Your voice made him flinch. He almost cut into his finger, that honey dripping sweet familiar voice sending a jolt of anxiety over his entire body. No way, no fucking way you were here, in Chicago, in the Beef of all places. He thought he must have hallucinated it, stressed out of his mind from the intense lunch rush they’d just had. But he had to know, he had to find out if you were there, setting foot in his establishment.

So he turned his head to peer over to the counter, and there you were.

Angel of the academy.

Arch nemesis of his nightmares.

Ordering a sandwich from his run down restaurant.

You barely looked any different, and the sight of your smile made his stomach drop. Or flutter. It did something to his stomach at least.

He was just going to let you leave, pretend like he imagined it so he could continue to live his life and believe you were out there pursuing anything besides cooking. But he couldn’t. He had to know, something deep inside him forced him to put his knife down and walk to the counter as you were heading to the door, and call out your name in questioning.

You turned, and when your eyes met he remembered how uncomfortable your eyes made him. How they’d make his face get hot, stutter, think about every mistake he’s made, like he was having an allergic reaction to your eye contact.

“Carmen?” Your voice was soft, unsure, as if you were coaxing a wild animal out of its cage.

Richie looked at Carmen, confused as all hell as to why his colleague was having a nervous staring contest with this random customer. “You know this chick or somethin’?”

He voluntarily ignored Richie’s question, getting from behind the counter and walking up to you. A part of him wanted to bolt, slam the door and tell the others to kick you out. Luckily for him, he’d become the more confrontational type recently.

“Holy shit, it is you!” A bright smile adorned your face, and he swore you were about to go in for a hug when you moved your arms, only to awkwardly cross them when he pulled away a bit. “What are you uh... Doin’ around here?” A stupid question, you were aware, but anything to make conversation with your long lost classmate.

The question made Carmen tense up. Although it was obvious he worked there, the Beef was not... In its prime condition, to say the least. He was a bit embarrassed to admit he owned it, but he wasn’t about to lie to you and make even more of a fool out of him in the long run.

“Makin’ sandwiches.” He sighed, looking down at his shoes for a moment, desperately trying to avoid eye contact. “So uh, what about you?”

“Ah, I run my own place like 25 minutes away from here.”

Ugh.

Of course you fucking did. Of course you, star student that you are, owned your own restaurant in Chicago. He bet it was running so well too, and you didn’t have to worry about half the shit he dealt with on a daily basis.

“Ah, wait, here,” You reached into your purse and pulled out a business card, handing it to him. “We’ve been up and running for only a few months, but it’s going pretty well!” You clutched your hands together, excitedly awaiting his response.

“Cool, cool...” He held the card, carefully reading over every letter. Sunrise diner... Huh. “A breakfast place?”

“You got it!” You chuckled, slightly nervous as you moved back and forth on your heels. You hadn’t seen Carmen in ages, and besides the added tattoos, he truly hadn’t changed that much. He’d matured, surely, but his demeanor remained the same. Curt, bold, something distrusting about it.

“If you want, you could uh... Stop by, maybe?” You fidgeted with the sleeve of your jacket.

Your question made him look up from the card, and a million answers ran through his mind. Did he want to? On one hand, he felt like if he spent any more time with you, he’d start feeling like even more of a failure than he already did. On the other hand, it wouldn’t be bad to scope out the competition, and who knows, maybe the place was shit, and he could sleep at night knowing at least both of your restaurants weren’t doing well.

“Sure, why not.” He shoved the card into his back pocket, crossing his arms. “I’m kinda swamped right now, but I’ll let you know. Maybe this weekend or something.”

“Sure, yeah, totally! My contact info’s on the card!” Your excitement almost made him distrust you even more. Were you planning something? Was this part of some elaborate scheme to drive his business into the ground? Either way, he’d find out sooner or later.

“See you around!” You waved him goodbye, heading outside as he stood there, no reply as the last thing that was heard was the jingly of the bell above the door.

Carmen took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair before turning back around, seeing Richie lean against the counter with a shit eating grin. “Ex girlfriend?” He asked, wiggling his eyebrows at him.

“Fuck off cousin.”

God, he wished you were just an ex girlfriend.

You were his biggest competition.

Usually when Carmen was up this early, it was to get some preparations done for the restaurant, or if he just hadn’t slept at all during the night.

But now he stood in front of your restaurant, and fuck, he had to admit, it looked good.

From what he could see from outside, the place had a very cozy feel to it. The theme was a mix of a 50′s diner and a casual breakfast spot, and from what he could tell so far, there was no lack of customers either. But that didn’t say much, maybe they were paid actors, right?

He entered and made eye contact with the barista behind the counter who offered him a warm “welcome” and a smile, before looking to the side and waving at someone in the kitchen. Not long after, you walked out, bright smile plastered over your face. He always wondered how you could be so energetic this early in the morning.

“Hey,” he said, hands in his pockets, “nice place.”

“Aw, thanks Carmy!” Your chest warmed at the compliment. “Saved a seat just for you, just follow me.”

He was seated in a booth just for him, and he had to admit, he liked this setup. He could eat his food in peace at least. The vintage feel of the leather cushioning of the benches was pleasant, and the jazz music playing made for a pleasant atmosphere. He’d almost say he would visit a place like this outside of work hours, if you weren’t the one running it.

He looked over the menu, noticing a wide array of breakfast sandwiches, pastries, milkshakes, and the usual coffee arrangement. Nothing too crazy, though he secretly wished he could have chosen something difficult for you to make.

He ordered an eggs benedict sandwich with smoked salmon, a coffee, and a cherry danish. Should be a pretty good test to the culinary quality of the place, he thought.

A waiter came by to drop off his food soon after, and he hated to admit his mouth watered at the sight of it. Everything looked so fresh, and the plating was very pretty too. But cuisine isn’t about how stuff looks, if it was, the Beef would have never existed, that was for sure.

He dug in with his knife and fork, and started eating. He sat through his entire meal in complete silence, simply going through the motions of enjoying a normal breakfast. The barista watched him with careful eyes, as if he was Gordon Ramsey and they were a shitty bakery on the verge of bankruptcy.

He put down his fork, taking a deep breath.

It was fucking delicious.

And every moment he’d spent enjoying it made him angrier and angrier.

So he got up, seemingly in a bit of a hurry, and stormed outside, the door hitting the wall with a loud thud when he exited.

You watched it happen from the doorway to the kitchen, face painted with worry.

“Carmen! Carmen wait!” You started to catch up with him as he walked over to the parking. He didn’t like it, you thought, no, he hated it, he hated it so much he couldn’t even dignify you with a moment of feedback.

Carmen’s face ran red as he could practically hear the blood rushing around his ears, hands starting to reach for his pack of cigarettes as you approached behind him.

“Please, just tell me what was wrong, I-I’ll change it, I can make you something new, off the menu, w-whatever you want, I--”

“God, do you ever shut the fuck up!?” He turned around, yelling loud enough to have you frozen in your tracks. His pack of cigarettes was squeezed tightly in his hand, crumpling the cardboard packaging under his grip.

You felt the paralyzing effect of his loud and furious voice, a cold sweat running over your body now. Before you could even open your mouth to say anything else, he stepped closer, and you didn’t even have the guts to back away.

“Every day in culinary school, you made my life hell! The one thing I have ever fucking excelled at, been noticed at, felt like I should have been alive for, you overtook me in!” His ears rang, and any noise besides his own yelling was muffled.

“You, with your perfect knife skills, endless patience, and your little angel fucking face, always at the back of my heels, the corner of my damn kitchen, making me feel inferior! And then-- then I finally get away from you, think I’ve got some direction in my life, feel a sliver of confidence in my abilities, and what do you fucking do!?” He points at you, finger just an inch away from poking into your sternum.

“You enter my city, my restaurant, and just come and remind me about how much better you’re doing! Because you love to make me feel like I’m worthless, liked I’m always 5 steps behind, don’t you?” He furrows his brows. “Tell me! Tell me that’s why you’re here, because you want to shit on my work, and make me feel worthless!”

You can feel his hot breath on your face, and your knees start to feel weak. You open your mouth, and the tears that had long been building in your eyes start to roll down your cheeks. The first noise that comes out of your mouth is barely half a word, strangled between the knot in your vocal cords that had formed out of fear. You swallow, and finally manage to speak up.

“Carmen, I-I’m... I’m so sorry...” You sob.

The person you’d looked up to since day one of culinary school thought of you as a bully. And you had no clue.

You knew Carmen didn’t like you, but you never knew he hated you this much. You’d noticed the tension in his jaw as you received good critiques, the strengthening grip on his tools when you got close to his station, the lack of eye content he provided when you did briefly talk. Just as much as you noticed his amazing instinct for flavor profiles, his ability to improvise, his insatiable urge to keep going.

It inspired you. So you kept going too. Even though deep down, you’d wish he acknowledged your work.

And now he did, he finally did, but not in the way you’d always hoped for. The man you’d always admired, who was awarded Chef of the Year the same year you considered giving up entirely, was currently inches away from your face, watching you cry.

His expression softened just a bit, and the surrounding sound of cars passing by and distant jazz music finally came back to him. You were sorry. So sorry. You looked like it too, hands clutching the fabric of your apron, shaking slightly, cheeks stained with tears. Shit. Shit, he’d really messed up.

“I-I didn’t... I didn’t know, I swear, I never meant to, I was just--” Your voice broke between sentences, “I was trying to keep going, keep holding on, and you were so... You inspired me, y-you’re...” You swallowed, looking to the side, afraid to face his scowl. “You’re the reason I settled in Chicago. I wanted to-- to work with you, or for you.”

You remembered trying to reach him, but he’d changed numbers, and with his severe lack of social media, trying to find him was damn near impossible. By the time you were ready to start cooking again, the year you heard he won Chef of the Year, you found out he was based in Chicago. You searched online, but to no avail. You figured your best shot was to try and start something in the city, and pray to whatever god would answer that maybe you’d cross paths again.

He stood still, head still reeling and processing what you were saying. This was new information for him, and that changed... A lot. You, the person he’d spent like half of his career trying to catch up to, admired him. He’d almost think you were lying if it wasn’t for the tears streaming down your face, he started to realize just how badly he’d acted out just now.

“I--” He started, taking a step back to get out of your personal space. “Fuck, I should-- I should go.”

You stood there, arms crossed, enveloping yourself and avoiding his eyes like a wounded animal. And the best thing he knew how to do at the moment, was flee the scene. He sucked at his emotions, hell, he could barely even handle his own, how was he going to help you after just cussing you out.

So he backed away, leaving to the nearest metro station to get out, leaving you alone outside.

Carmen got home that same day, back against the door as he sat on the floor of his apartment. He felt horrible, like there was a gaping hole in his chest, and he imagined you felt about a hundred times worse. He couldn’t believe what he did, all because he projected this horrible false narrative onto you, stemming from his own self hatred.

He sighed shakily, pulling out his phone and calling his older sister, Natalie.

“Hey, what’s up Carmy?”

“Hey Sugar-- uhm-- so you remember--”

“Are you okay?” She questioned, clearly worried at the shakiness of his voice.

“I’m fine, I promise, please can you just-- just send me the info for the therapy thing. Please.” He sighed. “I’m uh... I’m startin’ to believe I might actually need it.”

A pause remained for a moment, and he almost thought she hung up.

“...Bear?”

“Yeah?”

“What happened?”

tag list <3

@beebslebobs @thatone-brightstar @spr3id @deadandstill @777iii

#aster writes the bear #carmenmath #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fic #jeremy allen white imagine #jeremy allen white fic #the bear #carmen berzatto writing #carmen berzatto the bear #the bear fic #the bear writing #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto imagine

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daisynik7 · 5 months

Text

Win a Date with Takada-Chan! Part II

Pairing: Aoi Todo x f!reader

Rating: Mature

Word Count: ~5.3k

cw: switching POVs (reader is in 2nd person, Todo is in 3rd), reader described as having hair, reader has curves, mentions of food/desserts, suggestive dialogue, sexual tension, explicit language, suggestive touching

Summary: The second half of Takada-Chan’s big group date is underway. Or so you think.

Author’s Notes: Here’s the last regular chapter of Idol Fan Wars. Stay tuned for the Epilogue, coming soon. Divider credit to @/saradika.

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Epilogue

Tag List: @iwillbiteabitch

Todo’s warm breath on your ear wakes you up. “Hey, baby. We’re here.” Baby…? Did he just call you baby?

And did you just get aroused by him calling you baby?!

Right. It’s all part of the act. Though he only whispered it to you. Why would he call you baby if no one else is listening? Before you can analyze it any further, he stands up to exit the bus, you following right behind him. Once you’re outside, he puts his arm around your shoulder as you wait for all the other fans to exit. “Did you have a good nap?” he asks.

You nod, reveling in this unusual closeness. “Yes, I did. Thanks for letting me sleep on you.” You peer up at him to give him a smile. “You’re surprisingly very comfortable.”

“Well, you can sleep on me anytime,” he says, rubbing your arm affectionately. All his little touches are gentle and sweet; there are butterflies in your stomach. It’s not what you expect from him.

Takada-Chan leads them into the studio. You find out your favorite security guard’s name is Haru, and you chat with him as you walk. Todo still has his arm wrapped around you, not speaking. Occasionally, he’ll pull you in a little closer to his body when you start to deviate slightly away from him.

As part of the group date, the fans get to stand on set and partake in an official Takada-Chan photoshoot. As she gets ready in her dressing room, her manager comes out to offer a buffet of food and refreshments. This includes a variety of sandwiches, chips, and even a chocolate fondue fountain. You go straight for dessert, filling your plate with strawberries and marshmallows galore. Todo stacks three roast beef sandwiches on his plate. Still feeling disgruntled about your confrontation with the other winners, you and Todo keep to yourselves as you chow down.

“Is that all you’re going to eat?” he asks, inspecting your plate full of chocolate covered strawberries. “It’s all sweets.”

“Oops, I guess it is. I can’t help it; I’ve got the biggest sweet tooth,” you explain with a half shrug.

“Here. At least have one bite of real food.” He holds one of his sandwiches in front of your lips. “Open.”

The demand catches you off guard. Nevertheless, you obey and open wide. His lips curl into that signature smirk as you take a big bite. “Good girl.”

You look away from him, flustered, as you chew the food in your mouth. Why does this seem so erotic? It’s just a sandwich. It’s as if those two words uttered from his lips unlocked a deep desire in you. Avoiding his gaze, you indulge in a chocolate covered strawberry. It’s messy, sweet, and decadent.

“Is it good?” You answer him with a silent nod, noticing how his eyes linger on your mouth. “You have some chocolate on your lip.” He reaches out to you before you can even process his comment. He swipes the pad of his thumb slowly across the corner of your mouth. Before he moves away, you grasp at his hand and surround his thumb with your lips, sucking off the chocolate. You gaze into his eyes as you slowly pull his hand away, making sure to make a loud pop when you release him.

Under his breath, you hear him growl, “Fuck.”

“Shouldn’t let it go to waste, right?” There’s a naughty glint in your eyes.

He steps closer to you and says in a low voice, “You’re so bad, you know that? You can’t just do things like that in public.”

“But we have to give these people a show, right?”

Suddenly, his expression changes. He looks hurt. “Is this all just an act to you? Kissing me, falling asleep on my chest, sucking my fucking thumb like that. Is all this still just pretend?”

“Isn’t it?” you respond, confused by his reaction.

He doesn’t say anything at first, only stares at you with an odd expression, almost like he’s disappointed. Finally, he asks, “Is that how you feel?”

How do you feel? After everything that has happened today, there’s no doubt in your mind that you’re attracted to him. The kiss, the affectionate touching, the way he called you baby and good girl. Is this how he is as a boyfriend? You never imagined there could be this side of him. This is something you could get used to. But you and Todo still didn’t know each other well. Your relationship started off as a silly rivalry full of name-calling and squabbling. How can you become a couple after a few chance encounters?

~~~

After what feels like forever, she stammers, “I’m not sure how I feel.”

Todo can’t help feeling dejected. He jerks his head away from her and stuffs his mouth with one of his sandwiches. How is he supposed to respond to that?

“Todo,” she starts.

“It’s fine,” he grunts. “Forget I said anything.”

They eat the rest of their food without speaking, a strange atmosphere between them now. It’s not like he’s mad at her; how can he be? They’ve been bickering rivals up until now. He can’t expect her to fall for him after one kiss and a few cute pet names. When he really thinks about it, he hasn’t been the nicest or most chivalrous person towards her. Checking out her ass and pulling on her braids doesn’t really scream out Prince Charming. If he’s going to win her over, he has to be better. He needs to do something unselfish and kind. She’s already done enough for him, it’s time for him to do something for her.

After several more minutes of waiting, Takada-Chan comes out of her dressing room, ready for the photoshoot. She’s beautiful in a red polka dot dress with her hair up in her signature pigtails. The fans watch in awe as the photographer directs the pop idol to do different poses against a white backdrop. After a couple of pictures, the crew switches the backdrop while Takada-Chan changes into a different outfit. This repeats for a while, with the idol’s outfits equally as epic as the last, classic pigtails still in place.

The photoshoot lasts about two hours. When the last pictures are taken, the photographer and Takada-Chan motion to her fans so they can all take turns getting their own personal photos with the idol. Many of the winners pose for solo pics rather than with their guest.

Todo and his pretend girlfriend haven’t said much to each other during the photoshoot. She seemed too mesmerized watching Takada-Chan. It was adorable watching her eyes widen with delight at each pose the pop idol struck. He still isn’t sure what to think after their last conversation.

When it’s time for their photo, Todo walks toward Takada-Chan. When he sees that his “girlfriend” is still staying in place, he furrows his eyebrows and waves her over. She shakes her head. “You should get your own pic, it’s fine.”

“I want you in the picture,” he demands.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, come here.”

Takada-Chan giggles in the background. “You two are too much. Cuteness overload.”

She takes her spot on the other side of Takada-Chan. The photographer points her camera. “Ready?”

“Let’s do a little heart this time!” the pop idol suggests. She puts her thumb and index finger together. They follow suit.

“Fantastic! Takada-Chan’s team will email this out to the winners in a few day’s time,” the photographer informs.

The singer gives a temporarily farewell as she makes her way back to the dressing room to get ready for the second portion of the group date.

Todo notices his girlfriend clutching at her stomach, taking labored breaths. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know, my stomach hurts all of a sudden. I think all that chocolate is catching up to me.”

“What?!” he yells out.

“My tummy,” she murmurs. She looks up at him with pitiful puppy dog eyes. How can someone in this current state still be so adorable?

He glances around the room in a panic. “Well, what do you need? Do you want some water or medicine?”

She holds onto his arm as she rubs her belly. “It feels like a really bad cramp. I’m so dumb. I get like this sometimes when I eat too many sweets on an empty stomach.”

“I told you to eat some real food!”

“I know! You were right! I should have listened!” She buries her face in her hands as she doubles over.

Todo bends down to put his arm around her. “Are you going to be okay?”

Through her hands, he hears her mutter, “I don’t know.”

~~~

Takada-Chan reappears in her outfit from earlier in the day. When she notices you and Todo kneeling, she hurries over. “Are you okay?”

There’s a painful pang in your stomach again. This is what you get for stuffing your face full of chocolate! You’ve always had a sensitive stomach, but this is just cruel and unusual for it to be happening right now.

Todo stands up and explains, “My girlfriend isn’t feeling well.”

The idol gasps. “Oh no! Is there anything we can do for you, sweetie?”

After a few deep breaths, you stand up straight and say, “I think I should just go home.”

“Should we take you to a hospital?”

“No, no. It’s not serious. A hot compress and some bed rest will do the trick. I’m so sorry Takada-Chan.”

“I’m sorry there isn’t much we can do to help you. I’m going to miss you at our dinner.” Your heart beats faster at the idol’s kind words, but even that isn’t enough to ease you from this misery.

“I’ll come with you,” Todo states, concerned.

You turn to him and exclaim, “No! Please, Todo. Go to the dinner. I’ll be fine. Really!” There’s a heavy weight of guilt sweeping over you. You don’t want to take him away from his precious Takada-Chan over a little tummy ache. You grip his arm tightly and reassure him. “I’ll be fine. I promise. Just have fun, okay?”

The pop idol can’t help herself. She lets out a squeal. “Seriously, cutest couple ever!”

Todo opens his mouth but doesn’t say anything. He bows his head to stare down at the floor. What is he thinking right now? Is he afraid to look at you? After a few more seconds, you hear him mutter, “Okay.”

You’re relieved when he agrees to stay. There is no reason for him to leave the dinner for you. It’s not like you two are an actual couple. You would hate to have him resent you for missing out on this once in a lifetime opportunity.

Takada-Chan tasks Haru, her security guard, to take you home. At first you refuse, already guilty for putting this burden on everyone. After plenty of coaxing from the singer, you concede and follow Haru out, Todo and the Takada trailing behind you. She sends you off with a warm hug and a “feel better soon.” When you stand in front of Todo, he looks at you with a neutral expression.

“Have fun at dinner,” you say, with a weak smile.

“Yeah, okay.” Unexpectedly, he reaches out to tuck your hair behind your ear. His fingers slowly trail down to your chin. It’s intimate and tender. Just for a nanosecond, you think about kissing him again.

You turn away before you can do anything. Haru is already holding the door open to the backseat of the car. As you slide into the vehicle, you hear Takada-Chan and Todo chatting as they walk back towards the studio. There’s a feeling of jealously as you watch them together. Are you jealous that Todo gets to dine with Takada-Chan? Or are you jealous that Takada-Chan is going out to dinner with your boyfriend? You don’t even know anymore.

The twenty-minute car ride to your house is mostly silent, except for best security guard ever Haru checking in every so often to make sure you are as comfortable as you can be given your current condition. When he pulls up to the driveway, you give him your most gracious thanks and head into your home. After you prepare a hot compress, you head straight to bed, curled up in a fetal position.

You groan out loud. This really must be karma for lying to the world about your fake relationship. And maybe karma for leading Todo on, giving him such a half-assed answer when he asked you how you really feel.

Aside from the cramping, there’s tightness in the pit of your stomach. You think about all that has happened today. Why did you kiss him? Fall asleep against his chest? Suck on his thumb?! What the fuck were you thinking?! You didn’t do it to tease him. It’s different than the time at the café. You had no malicious intentions this time. Your body just acted on its own. He was being so lovey-dovey and sweet, you got caught up in the moment.

The act. Is this all just an act to you? Is all this still just pretend? The sting in his voice was so apparent when he asked you those questions. The hurt look on his face when you answered is ingrained in your memory. Why did he react that way? Does he not want it to be pretend anymore?

Maybe there was intention behind every touch and whisper today. And not just for Todo, but for you too. Even though you kissed him to prove a point, you’ve always desired to feel those big lips against yours. You didn’t mind him holding you the way he did; in fact, you were comfortable with him. And you definitely didn’t have to put his thumb in your mouth, but you can brush that off as just a little moment of weakness.

Is it still an act if you wanted to do all those things? If you still want to do those things? And with Todo, of all people? The man who you thought was the bane of your existence the past few weeks? As you lie in bed, stomach still aching, you can’t help but feel a more pleasant sensation as you fantasize about him. His sexy smirk, that low growl in his voice. His beefy arms that can engulf you in the most amazing embrace. Those big lips that can swallow you whole. That overwhelming confidence that makes you believe in every word that comes out of his mouth. The eccentric attitude that keeps you on your toes.

Maybe Sara is right. She always is.

You like him.

~~~

He misses her.

They’ve been in the party bus for thirty minutes, travelling to Takada-Chan’s favorite sushi restaurant in the city. He’s not particularly enjoying the subtle jeers and snickers from the other fans, who of course found out immediately that his “girlfriend” had to ditch him out of the blue.

They’re all just assholes, Todo doesn’t have the energy to deal with them right now. How is he just realizing what a sausage-fest these events are?

He sits in the same seat as earlier in the day. It’s empty without her cuddled beside him. He could have sat next to the pop idol, but he doesn’t feel like socializing, much to his own surprise. His mind keeps focusing on her.

He takes his phone out of his pocket and pulls up their chat. The familiar picture shows up on his screen and he can’t help but grin at it. He’ll never get over how cute it is. The rest of their messages are from a week ago, when she asked him to go with her on this group date. He stares at his phone, contemplating if he should send her a text to check in. In the end, he decides against it. She’s probably sleeping, he thinks.

At last, they arrive to the sushi restaurant. Todo makes sure to sit next to the pop idol this time. Normally, he would be starstruck and speechless being in such close proximity to Takada-Chan. However, he’s too distracted thinking about his girlfriend.

Girlfriend. He loves the way that sounds in his head. No quotes, no “fake” or “pretend” in front of it. Just girlfriend. He wants to keep calling her that.

As the rest of the dweebs gather around the table, Takada-Chan starts speaking to Todo. “Such a bummer about your girlfriend. I hope she’s okay.”

“Yeah, me too.” He drums his fingers against the table anxiously.

“You seem distracted. Are you that worried about her?”

“I guess I am. I wish she was here right now.”

She flashes a warm smile and agrees. “Me too. Maybe she wishes you were with her right now too.”

Todo’s eyes widen with realization. Could that be true? She practically begged him to stay for the dinner. Maybe out of guilt. Could this be an opportunity to show her how he feels about her? To do something nice and prove his worth?

“You should go to her.” Even in reality, Takada-Chan is his voice of reason.

“You’re right, Takada-Chan. I have to do something. This is my chance to really show her the type of man I can be!”

She pumps her fists up with a bright smile. “That’s it, Todo! You got this!”

He gets up and bows deeply to the pop idol. “Thank you, Takada-Chan. Thank you for everything.”

As soon as he exits the restaurant, Todo dials her number. No answer. He calls three more times with no success. Thinking quickly, he texts Yuji.

Todo: Brother, I need your help.

Brother: hey, what’s up?

Todo: I need Sara’s number.

Brother: did something happen on your big date? Is everything ok

Todo: I’ll tell you later, just give me her number

Yuji texts Sara’s phone number, to which Todo immediately calls. “Hello?” she answers. In the background, he can hear the sound of clinking plates and the distinct chatter of a party.

“Sara, it’s Aoi Todo. Yuji gave me your phone number.”

“Todo? Why are you calling me?”

He explains the situation, then says, “I tried calling her, but she isn’t picking up. I’m worried about her. I’m going to buy some porridge for her right now. Can you give me her address?”

She doesn’t respond right away. Finally, she states, “I can’t just give you my best friend’s address.”

Todo expects this type of response. It was Sara who caught him staring at her best friend’s ass in that mini skirt. She probably still thinks he’s a pervert. He can’t blame her for being protective, but he’ll be damned if he can’t see his girlfriend tonight and feed her some porridge. “Please. I’m almost at the porridge shop right now. I just want to bring it to her. I want to do something nice for her.”

More silence, until she relents. “Okay. I’ll give you her address. But I’m coming too. I’m almost off work. I’ll meet you there in thirty minutes.”

Todo breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Sara. Thank you.”

“You better be on your best behavior, mister!” she warns.

“I will, I promise.”

Luckily, there is a well rated soup shop near his current location. He buys a large bowl of plain rice porridge to go. As he makes his way to train station, he stops by a convenience store to grab a few Pocari Sweats. If she’s feeling nauseated, she might be vomiting; she’ll need to replenish her electrolytes. He also buys matcha green tea ice cream. At the café, he remembers her mentioning how much she loves matcha. Even if her sweet tooth is what got her into this mess, he hopes that the ice cream will be a nice treat to settle her stomach.

As he pays, he notices a stuffed turtle plushie displayed at the window. At the Meet and Greet, when she was chatting away with Takada-Chan in her dressing room, she pretended to own a pet turtle named Nobu. Maybe she’ll like this.

He boards the train heading in the direction of the address Sara texted him, bag of goodies in hand, determined to show her what he’s capable of. Sara is already there when he arrives, hands on her hips, lips pursed, eyebrows knit together. A defensive stance. “Good evening, Todo.” Her eyes narrow as she says his name.

Todo is not the type of person to get scared. This is well known fact. But even he can’t help but falter slightly under this intense gaze. It’s like a mama bear protecting her cub. “Hello. I brought some stuff for her.”

He lifts the bag up for Sara to see. She glances at it, then her gaze averts back to him. “So, what’s the deal? Do you like her or something?”

Wow, very straight forward. Todo clears his throat and stands tall. With as much confidence as he can muster, he confesses, “Yes. I like her.” Saying it out loud makes it real. There’s fluttering in his abdomen, giddy and excited.

“We kissed today,” Todo admits. Sara’s eyes widen with surprise, but she remains silent. Listening. “We got confronted by some other fans. Said we were faking being a couple to get Takada-Chan’s attention. She thought it would be a good idea to kiss to shut them up. Maybe it was all just for show, but I felt something there. I feel something between us. I know I’ve been a jerk and a pain in the ass, but I’m willing to do whatever it takes to show that I can be a man worthy of her.”

He draws a long breath and exhales slowly, waiting for a reaction from Sara. Suddenly, her expression softens as reaches into her pocket for something. A key. She grins at him. “It’s about time. I’m just surprised she made the first move, considering what a horndog you are. No offense.” She jingles the key in her hand. “I tried calling her, but she isn’t picking up. I’ve got a key to her place, so we can just head in and check on her.”

“Wait, that’s it? You looked so intimidating just a few seconds ago.”

Sara laughs loudly. “You thought I was intimidating? Oh man, I’m flattered. I just had to make sure your intentions are pure. Don’t think I don’t know about the naughty conversation you two had at the café. Or the fact that I caught you red-handed checking her out.” She glares at Todo as she warns, “I’m still keeping my eye on you, though. Better behave yourself.”

She unlocks the front door and gestures to follow her inside. He immediately puts the matcha green tea ice cream in the freezer. Sara side eyes him and asks, “Did you get that for her, too?”

Todo rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah. She told me she likes matcha, so I thought she’d like this.”

“I’m impressed. She will definitely like that.” He mentally pats himself on the back.

He watches Sara approach a closed door and knock on it gently. She calls out her best friend’s name softly. When there’s no answer, she quietly opens the door and heads inside.

Todo’s heart starts racing. What is he going to say to her? Should he confess to her right now? If she’s still feeling ill, he wouldn’t want to unload his feelings onto her. It might cause her more stress.

He grabs the bag with the porridge and turtle plushie, ready to go. Waiting for the right moment to make his entrance.

~~~

Sara’s voice calling out your name startles you awake. When you open your eyes, she’s kneeling on the ground beside the bed. “Hey, are you okay? We’ve been trying to call you for the past hour.”

You rub your eyes and yawn. “Yeah, I’m feeling okay.” Once you process what she said, you ask, “Wait, what are you doing here?”

“I heard you got sick from eating too much chocolate. You can be so lame sometimes,” she chuckles, ruffling your head.

“Who told you?”

“Your boyfriend.”

That gets you sitting up immediately. “Todo texted you?”

“Yeah. He was so worried about you. Even bought you porridge and green tea ice cream.”

“He had all that delivered? For me?”

“No, dummy. He’s here.”

“Todo is here?”

Sara nods with a devilish grin on her face. Then, she gets up and walks out of your bedroom. You hear her speaking to someone, but you can’t make out what they’re saying. You hear heavy footsteps approaching. Todo stands in the doorway, holding a bag. “Hey.”

Him standing at the entrance of your bedroom makes you self-conscious. If you knew he was going to be here, you would have worn some cuter pajamas. Instead, you’re wearing boxer shorts and a raggedy oversized t-shirt that has been through trying times. You’re also currently braless. You pull the blanket up closer to your chest. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be at dinner with Takada-Chan.”

“I was worried about you. Wanted to make sure you were okay.” He stays standing in the doorway.

“Sara told me you bought me porridge. You left your date with Takada-Chan just to buy me some soup?”

“Yeah. I guess I did.” After a few seconds of silence, he asks, “Can I come in?”

Something about him asking makes you feel at ease. Maybe he can be a gentleman after all. “Sure.”

He sits on the floor, cross legged, beside the bed. There’s a small tray you keep in arms reach by your dresser. You grab it and lay it out on your bed.

“It might not be as hot. Just let me know if you want me to heat it more.” He places the bowl on the tray and hands you a soup spoon.

This is really sweet. He’s being really sweet right now.

The porridge smells amazing. You drop the blanket slightly as you lean forward to enjoy the soup. There’s still a bit of steam that comes out when you remove the cover. It looks heavenly. After the first spoonful, you hum in satisfaction. “This tastes amazing.”

Todo smiles as he leans back onto his hands. “I’m glad you like it. Are you feeling better?”

“Yes. Sleeping and a hot compress helped. And this porridge is really hitting the spot.”

“Is it really that good?”

“Yeah! Here, try it.”

He contemplates for a few seconds before crawling on his knees to move closer to the bed. You hold out a spoonful, your other hand underneath to prevent spillage. He leans his head forward and opens his mouth as you feed him.

This feels very intimate for some reason. You see his Adam’s apple move up and down as he swallows. “It’s good,” he says.

You eat the rest of the porridge in silence, Todo watching you from the floor. Once you’re all done, he puts the empty bowl in the bag and reveals the cutest turtle plushie you’ve ever seen. “I also got you this. Thought you might like it. You can name it Nobu.”

This is too much. You feel like you might explode from the cuteness overload. He hands you the turtle and you squeeze it against your chest. “Thank you so much. You’re really sweet.”

He smirks, a blush creeping to his cheeks. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.” He leans against the side of the bed, hands tucked under his chin, eyes focused on you.

“But you skipped the dinner with Takada-Chan. Are you upset?”

“Of course not. Didn’t feel right to be there without you anyways. I want to be here with you.”

You raise a brow at him, giving him a playful smile. “Then, I guess this means we’re friends. Even though you told me we could never be friends.”

Suddenly, he gets up and kneels on the side of the bed. The mattress sinks from his weight as he leans in closer to you. “I don’t want to be friends.” He’s centimeters from your face, though he remains still, waiting for you to make the first move.

Maybe it’s the fact that he skipped a dinner with his “future wife” to bring you porridge. Or the fact that you’ve been yearning to rediscover how his lips feel against yours. Or maybe it’s because you like him. You actually like him.

You set Nobu the turtle aside, afraid for what he might be exposed to in the next few minutes.

You wrap your hands around the back of his thick neck to close the gap. The kiss is messy, sloppy, and hungry. He swirls his tongue in your mouth, desperate to taste you. The blankets covering your body are pushed away, exposing you completely to him. You hear him growl as straddles you, hands sliding down to your waist. His touch is firm, but gentle all at the same time. You can’t help but moan into his mouth as he slides underneath your shirt.

He breaks the kiss as soon as he reaches your bare chest. “You’re not wearing a bra?” He’s breathing is heavy. You smirk at him as you shake your head no.

“You really are a good girl, aren’t you?” he whispers in your ear, scattering wet kisses all along your neck, brushing his thumb over your peaked nipples, causing you to moan louder.

From the doorway, you hear a loud, “AHEM.”

Immediately, you unwrap your legs from around his waist. When did you even do this?!

You both distance yourself from each other and turn to face Sara with her arms crossed, glaring. Todo grabs the blanket that was tossed aside and pulls it to cover the both of you.

“Did you two just forget I was here? The door is wide open, you fucking perverts.” She walks to the end of the bed and bends over to pick something up. “And right in front of poor Nobu? You two are really despicable.”

You burst out in laughter. Todo slowly hops off the bed and sits back down on the bedroom floor, muttering a guilty, “Sorry.”

She walks back towards the door. “I’m not trying to be a cockblock or anything, but maybe you two should establish what your relationship is first. Are you rivals still? Friends? Fuck buddies? Let’s be adults about this, shall we?”

She steps out of the room, swinging the door closed. Before it shuts all the way, she yells, “I’ll be right outside if you need me!”

You bury your face in your hands, embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”

He chuckles. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pounced on you like that.”

“I wanted it too. I mean, I still want it.”

“Don’t tempt me. I’m trying to be a gentleman here.” He leans forward to rest his head against the edge of the bed. “You should get some rest. We can talk later.”

You study his face and reach out to delicately trace his scar with your fingers. “How did you get this?”

He holds your hand against his cheek and nuzzles into your palm. “Training, when I was a kid. Is it ugly?”

You smile at him. “Not at all. It’s actually really sexy.”

“Oh yeah?” he says softly with an eyebrow raised. He gives you a naughty smirk before pressing his lips to the inside of your wrist. It sets your skin ablaze.

“Todo, maybe we should take things slow. There’s still a lot we don’t know about each other.”

With his eyes closed, he hums in response as he continues to kiss you.

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Yes, I am. We’ll take things slow. Whatever it is you want, I’ll do it. I want to know everything about you.” His lips move to the back of your hand, placing soft kisses between each of your knuckles. “I want to be with you. And not as an act.”

“I want to be with you, too.”

He looks at you with an affectionate gaze, his lips touching your skin. Your breathing staggers as the tightness in your chest intensifies with each delicate kiss.

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot. I also got you some matcha green tea ice cream,” Todo mentions, in between kisses.

Maybe taking things slow will be a lot harder than you think.

#aoi todo #aoi todo x reader #aoi todo smut #aoi todo x you #todo aoi x reader #todo aoi smut #todo aoi #todo aoi x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #idol fan wars #jjk fanfic

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heavyhitterheaux · 1 year

Text

Not So Happy Birthday

AN: He should have known better

Synopsis: You have been spending a lot of time with Ace planning something for Jack and you wanted to get everything just right. Too bad everything blows up in your face.

Pairing: Jack Harlow x Reader

Requested by: a beautiful anon 💖

Appearances by: @nattinatalia and @hoodharlow 😘😘

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

It was 2 am and Jack was sleeping peacefully next to you. When you had heard his light snores, you took advantage of that and were texting Ace to help you plan a surprise birthday party for your boyfriend of three months.

Jack had asked you to visit him on tour and you quickly agreed. You had that advantage seeing that you worked at your parent's company and could come and go as you pleased.

You were what people called a trust fund baby. You didn’t have to work, but you chose to, wanting to say that you earned something for yourself.

You were introduced to Jack by Ace after the two of you had met and hooked up, but it didn't go anywhere. The two of you remained close and became really good friends and he got the bright idea of introducing you to Jack. When that happened, you could have sworn that your heart stopped when you saw these blue eyes.

Even though the relationship was still fairly new, you found yourself wanting to spend all your free time with him if both of your schedules allowed it.

Your best friend Blanca was excited for you since she couldn't remember the last time she saw you so happy, but she also happened to have no problem threatening Jack and told him that if he hurt you to count his days.

While your other best friend Jessica was just happy that you found something else to occupy your time with instead of just work.

The idea that you came up with for the party is that it would be Louisville themed so Jack could have a little taste of home while being on tour. You knew it did get hard sometimes, so you decided that you would do what you could in order for him to fill the void without actually being home. You had also planned to fly out his parents, grandparents, as well as Clay on your family’s private jet and everything would take place in one of the vacation houses that your parents owned.

The current conversation with Ace centered around what type of cake you thought he would want and the different foods to have. Urban, Quiiso, 2fo and Shloob were going to help you go and pick out a gift for him tomorrow. They were all in on the plan and the only other person you wanted to tell was Druski. Jack told you that he would be coming later in the week and you will fill him in on the details then.

Ace- OPEN BAR!

You- Ace! My baby doesn’t drink! We all know this!

Ace- Okay, but I do! And I’m helping you plan this soooo once again, OPEN BAR!

You- Okay, okay! I’ll have the open bar, and I can ask our private chef if he can do the food, or should we get it catered from somewhere? Like this is more so an intimate setting with all of his closest family and friends

Ace- Get Morris Deli sandwiches

You- Ace, imma smack you. NO.

Ace- What in the world is your private chef going to cook? Spoiled ass smh

You- Hmm, I’m thinking of multiple options. Chicken, fish, beef, and then we have our vegetarian options so that everyone can have something to choose from that they like. And of course all of Jack’s favorites

Ace- His favorite is you

You- But I cannot be spread eagle on the dinner table

Ace- Says who?!? Jack will only want to be around you anyway, ever since he laid his eyes on you it’s like we don’t exist

You- Stop being dramatic

Just then you felt Jack move closer to you and wrap his arms tighter around you and whisper in your ear.

“Mamas, why are you still up? You complained about wanting to go to sleep and you're steadily typing away on your phone. Put it down and go to sleep.”

“Okay, just one more thing that I have to do and then I will, I promise.”

“Baby, you stay overworking yourself and I thought I told you about that.”

“But!”

“I get it, you’re a perfectionist and when you want things done a certain way you do them yourself, but you have all day to do that. Come and cuddle with me please.”

How could you say no to that?

You- He’s awake so we shall continue this conversation later

Ace- And snails better not be on the menu either with your bougie ass

You- Imma order them from room service to you in the next city we go to

Ace- 😐😐😐😐

You put your phone on the charger as Jack kissed your shoulder and you then fell into a peaceful slumber.

It was around 6 am when you had also dragged Ace to wake up and go to the gym downstairs in the hotel with you.

As much as he put up a fight, he finally agreed and you let Jack sleep in.

“We only slept for four hours! I’m tired!” Ace whined as you began to warm up on the treadmill.

“Stop being a big baby! I have to use all of my free time to plan this so that he doesn’t find out. I want this to be special for him. He’s worked so hard and definitely deserves this.”

“Are you at least buying me breakfast after this?”

“Did you not hear anything I just said?! All you’re focused on is eating and going back to sleep.”

“Do you blame me?! Since no, you and your family are the types to wake up on Thanksgiving ad run a fucking 5K. Jack has no idea what he has gotten himself into. And quite frankly I don’t know either, but I WANT OUT!”

“Did I ever mention how dramatic you were? Now I have to go finalize the details for his cake and pick up one of the gifts that I got him today and Neelam knows the deal. Keep him distracted so that he doesn't suspect anything. If worse comes to worse, I went shopping and that really isn’t a lie… and… Ace you can lift heavier than that. That’s only five pounds.”

“I’m a beginner, do not shame me.”

“This isn’t Planet Fitness and you are not a beginner so I am shaming you. Get those 40s and stop playing around. The sooner we get done, the better.”

“Are you this hard on Jack when he works out with you?”

“The only working out with him that I’ve ever done is sex so no.”

“And I did not need to know that.”

“Well you asked.” You answered Ace while shrugging and going over to the bar to do squats.

When you and Ace had finished, the two of you went back upstairs to your rooms to get ready for the day and you walked in to see Jack looking like he just woke up and was rubbing his eyes.

“Baby, where’d you go?”

“Downstairs to the gym, I dragged Ace with me and now I’m going to shower and I promised him that I would buy him breakfast for waking him up so early. Just didn’t say when he was going to get the breakfast. Maybe he’ll get it next week from me.”

“Not you making the man work out and not feeding him. Your workouts be hard as hell and that’s the least you can do. I am never working out with you. The most work out you’ll get out of me is giving you this dick and that’s it.”

“You two are definitely friends because he complained the entire time too. My workouts are not that bad.”

“Baby, 2fo couldn’t walk for three days after he went to the gym with you, I’ll pass. But, you know we could always save water since I have to get ready too.” Jack answered you while wiggling his eyebrows.

All you did in response was peel off your workout bra and let it land on the floor and Jack’s eyes went wide quickly following you into the bathroom.

Druski came a few days earlier than expected, and you hadn’t been able to get a chance to talk to him because he always happened to be around Jack.

You would try to pull him to the side tonight while Jack was performing to tell him the plan and explain what was happening, but it seemed as if he had been a little standoffish towards you since the other day. He saw you along with Ace having lunch in the city and kind of stood a little to the side so that the two of you wouldn’t notice him. The two of you had gotten hungry on your excursion of trying to find yet another gift for Jack so the two of you stopped to get food. Little did you know Druski had taken pictures and sent them to Jack. But that wasn’t all, this had happened every day since he had been there and noticed how if he saw Ace, that you weren’t far behind and the last thing he wanted was for one of his good friends to get hurt.

Jack didn’t quite know how to feel when Druski told him and sent him the pictures.

He had told you about his trust issues and that his last relationship ended because he ended up getting cheated on.

But that wasn’t it.

He got cheated on and she got pregnant by the person that she cheated on him with.

So when Ace came to him and told him about you, he had his hesitations, but Ace insisted that Jack give you a chance and he finally agreed.

He knew that the two of you had hooked up in the past, but Ace assured him that he had no feelings for you whatsoever and that the two of you were just friends.

Now if that were true, why were you all over the city with Ace and it was just the two of you? And every day?

When he sat down and thought about it, you had been blowing him off to spend time with Ace and now he knew what he had to do.

He wasn’t about to get hurt again, so he needed to end it before it got to that point.

You had gotten Jack a specialized necklace that had ‘KY’ on it and was making your way back to the hotel to put it away before tonight’s show. It came in handy to know multiple jewelers in different states as well as different countries.

There were still about two weeks to go until the actual party, but everything was just about ready and set into place.

You were excited to be able to do this for your boyfriend and couldn’t wait to see the look on his face.

He had spoiled you early on in your relationship and you wanted to be able to return the favor.

Once you reached your shared hotel room with Jack, you walked in to see your suitcases by the door and Jack sitting on the bed with a defeated look on his face.

“Umm, did I miss something? Is everything okay?” You asked while trying to come closer to Jack, but he immediately got up and moved away from you.

“Baby, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” You asked while setting the bag down that contained his necklace on the nightstand.

“I should have known it was too good to be true, so you can take your shit and this plane ticket and go the fuck home. I don’t need to be cheated on again. And the fact that you did this knowing my trust issues? You got some fucking nerve.”

“First of all, what? And second of all, I would NEVER cheat on you.”

“Well that’s the same thing she said and she did and ended up getting pregnant in the process.”

“Jack, where is this coming from?!”

“It doesn’t matter, you got caught.”

“I didn’t get caught because I didn’t even do anything. You know how much I care about you!”

“Do I?” Jack asked and your breath hitched in your throat.

“I would never. I know how it feels too so why in the world would I do that to you?! You won't even tell me who I apparently cheated on you with!”

“It doesn’t even matter anymore. Here’s your ticket and I want you gone by the time I get back from my show.” Jack said while leaving it on the bed and slamming the door behind him.

You were at a loss for words and immediately started to cry.

Confused, hurt were just a few things that you were feeling and you just didn’t understand how the two of you had gotten to this point.

You looked down at the ticket to see that the flight was for 7 PM which was two hours from now and decided to catch an uber to the airport.

If he wanted you gone, he was going to get his wish.

And he better not come crawling back to you either once he realized what he did.

Jack’s show was about to start and Ace was looking all over for you since he had a suggestion about the party and wanted to run it by you. He went to go ask Jack and when he went into his dressing room, he saw him with a pissed off look on his face and Druski not even acknowledging his presence.

“Where’s Y/N? Has anyone seen her?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Druski said and Ace looked at him confused.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Jack, where is your girlfriend?”

“Ex-girlfriend and she should be on a plane going home by now 30,000 feet in the air.”

Ace was immediately confused.

“What? Why? What happened?”

“You two happened, that’s what. I should have known that it was too good to be true talking about we only hooked up once, but we’re still friends and don’t have feelings for each other.”

“Because we fucking don’t! I’ve been trying to get at one of her best friends, Blanca! So where the fuck is this coming from? As much as she talks about you and how highly she talks about you, ain’t no way in hell she would cheat, especially with me!”

“Then what the fuck were yall doing all cozy and shit this entire week?” Druski asked and Ace immediately got quiet.

“Don’t get quiet now. I have the pictures to prove it.” Druski added while Jack was simply scrolling through his phone trying to not think about his girlfriend cheating on him with one of his best friends.

“Pictures to prove what exactly? Her planning a surprise party for him for his birthday in two weeks? Is that it? Because that’s what we’ve been doing and she’s actually been doing this for an entire fucking month.”

“Wait, what?” Jack asked while putting his phone down and looking at Ace.

“Now you really thought I would hurt you like that and sleep with your girlfriend when all she asked for was my help because she wanted to do something special for you? All she does is talk about you.”

“Oh shit.” Druski muttered while looking back and forth between the two of them.

“Here, you can check my text messages to her to prove it.” Ace said while handing Jack his phone and he began scrolling to see that he was in fact telling the truth.

“You’re more of a dumbass than I thought and now you’ve probably lost her for good. She deserved better than you kicking her off tour and sending her home all because of a miscommunication and you probably didn’t even give her a chance to explain. And knowing Blanca, she is not going to let you anywhere near her because I know she’s going to tell her what you did. So congratulations, you just fucked up your relationship with a girl who would do absolutely anything for you. Oh, should I mention that the party was going to take place at one of her family’s vacation houses, with a private chef and she was flying in your parents, grandparents as well as Clay? You don’t deserve any of it for how you treated her.”

All Jack could do was sit there in utter disbelief.

“And Druski, the next time, I mean if there is one since you know Y/N is probably done with his ass and might be done with me too since I introduced them to each other, just fucking ask me.” Ace said before slamming Jack’s dressing room door behind him.

“I..” Druski started to say, but Jack immediately held up his hand to cut him off.

“You better come up with a good fucking plan in order for me to get my girlfriend back since all of this is your damn fault.”

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makeitmingi · 4 months

Text

The Cat and Dog Game [Chapter 8]

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Comedy

Pairing: Yunho x Reader (y/n)

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

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

Word count: 3.3K

Yunho had a pep in his step as he came back to the restaurant on Friday morning. He was excited to come back to work so he arrived earlier. Yesterday felt weird to not go into the restaurant to work.

"(y/n)?" He poked his head in. You were alone and had your AirPods on, listening to music as you worked on whatever was in front of you. You hadn't heard him come in. Yunho blinked and stepped forward, tapping your shoulder lightly.

"Who-" You jumped back in fear, as if you were afraid of getting attacked. Yunho flinched also, surprised by your fearful reaction.

"Sorry! I didn't mean to scare you!" Yunho fully bowed in apology.

"It's fine. I didn't hear you come in with my music playing." You frowned slightly, removing your AirPods and tucking them away. Yunho cleared his throat.

"Where are the others?" Yunho asked as he went to put his bag and coat in the locker room.

"I told them to sleep in a little. Sometimes, working in peace and quiet is what I need." You replied, mixing the pie batter in the bowl.

"I understand." Yunho nodded. You couldn't help but involuntarily snort at that, did he really understand what you meant? He seemed like someone who likes to surround himself with noise and other people, someone who doesn't like to be alone or for the environment to be too quiet.

"Hang on, let me make a coffee." Yunho said and went out to make himself a macchiato. At the same time, he made you an iced americano, bringing the cups into the kitchen.

"Thank you. Are you hungry?" You asked as you wiped your hands on your apron towel and took a sip before you went into the walk in.

"I guess?" Yunho blinked in confusion.

"I'll make you a sandwich." You came back out with a prep tray of items. You unwrapped the paper and there was a chunk of what looked like beef in the middle.

"What's that?" He came next to you, leaning to see as you used your knife to shave off slices of the meat.

"It's salt beef. Or corned beef. I made it yesterday for Seonghwa and got it ready this morning to give out." You explained.

"Here." You handed him a slice to try.

"Mmm! It's good." Yunho's eyes widened as he ate it. When he thought corned beef, his brain could only think of that chunk of meat that comes in a can. He didn't think that it was the processed version of this piece of meat in front of him.

"This is rye bread, Russian dressing, swiss cheese and sauerkraut. It's like a fermented, pickled cabbage." You showed him each component as you stacked the sandwich.

"Then we grill it to make a sandwich, a reuben sandwich." You pressed the sandwich onto a hot pan until the cheese melted and the bread toasted.

"It looks so good!" Yunho clapped his hands excitedly. When you took it off the pan, you sliced it down the middle.

"There you go, a reuben sandwich." You slid it to him. Yunho took his phone out to take a picture first.

He picked up the sandwich and took a big bite. The crunch of the bread with all the components, the sauerkraut cutting the creamy dressing and cheese, it was amazing.

"This is amazing." Yunho melted, leaning his elbows on the table as he savoured the taste.

As he enjoyed the sandwich, you went back to preparing the pastries and cakes for the day. You would occasionally glance over at Yunho eating his sandwich. Honestly, you had no idea why you felt so much anticipation making the sandwich for him. Maybe because you've been quite amused by his reactions to food so far.

"I'm glad you like it." You said, turning around to mix the muffin batter. Yunho smiled softly as he looked at the back of your head. It warmed his heart that this was you starting to open up to him.

"This thing... sauerkraut? How do you make it?" Yunho asked.

"It's actually really easy. You shred the cabbage and massage it with salt until the water comes out then you let it pickle with it's own natural bacteria and enzymes." You informed.

"So I'm guessing you made this?" He held up a strand of the pickled cabbage. You nodded your head.

"Well, I'm sad that this is my last bite." He pouted, staring at the small piece of sandwich that was left in his hands.

"You can always learn to make it yourself then make more." You replied.

"Speaking of, is there anything I can help you with? Since you're doing this on your own." Yunho straightened up, going to the sink to wash his hands and the plate the he used.

"The boys are coming in 30 minutes. But you can still help." You shrugged. He nodded, going to the locker room to retrieve a spare apron. After tying the string around his waist, he pulled his sleeves up and washed his hands again.

"Okay, chef! What do I do?" Yunho saluted with a big smile as he jogged over to where you were.

"We're going to make the coffee crumb cake. Measure all this into here while I make the crumb that goes in the middle and on top." You pointed on the recipe sheet and all the ingredients he needed.

"I can do that." He grinned and started measuring each component. You had taken out the ingredients earlier so he didn't need to retrieve them.

"Where is the coffee in the coffee cake?"

"There is actually no coffee in coffee cake. It's just meant to go well with a cup of coffee." You replied, mixing the crumb ingredients together with your fingers.

"That's... confusing..." He laughed. You hummed in agreement. You looked over to see how he was managing.

There was a small frown on his face as he checked the weighing scale for each ingredient, he chewed on his bottom lip, focussed on trying to get the exact weight of everything. You could tell he was frustrated when he was even 0.1g over what was needed. He would carefully add and remove each minute amount.

"Done!" He showed you the bowl. You told him which ingredients to put together, standing with him at the mixer to let him add the ingredients in.

"Once the sour cream, butter and sugar are whipped together and it looks fluffy and airy. Slowly add the eggs." You instructed. Yunho tried his best to follow your instructions. He didn't want to mess up.

"No shell." He said proudly, cracking the eggs into the small bowl and adding them in.

"Should I do the flour little by little?"

"Yes, maybe in batches of 3. Lower the speed of the mixer or it will go everywhere." You advised him. He did exactly as told, watching in amazement as he made the cake batter.

"I've never done this before. Or rather, my mum always said I made a mess so I wasn't alloewd to do much." He sighed.

"You've been keeping your area neat so far." You shrugged, continuing to mix with crumb with your hands to ensure you got the right consistency. You tasted it to make sure that the taste and texture wa right before going to wash your hands.

"That's good." You said. You took the bowl from the mixer and scraped down the sides. Then you grabbed the cake tin and layered the two components.

"Let me help." Yunho held the bowl of batter for you to guide it into the pan. After smoothing it, you put a layer of crumb.

"Ooh, like a filling?" He asked, watching you crumble the crumb evenly over the batter.

"Yes, so we cover this with the remaining batter and more crumb." You said, putting more batter on top of the middle layer of crumb. Then you put a final layer of crumb over the top.

You repeated the step for the other cake tin and put the cakes into the oven to bake.

"Morning, (y/n)." Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Jongho came in.

"Hey." You greeted, putting the used dishes together. The 3 were surprised to see Yunho already there with an apron, standing beside you, ready to take on whatever task you assigned. From the flour stains on his apron, they guessed that you had let him help with with whatever you were doing.

"Look at you being so hardworking." Wooyoung wrapped his arms around you to squish you into a hug. You scrunched your nose lightly, body stiff but you didn't push him away.

"Did you sleep?" Seonghwa asked softly, a hand on your head. He didn't ask if you slept well, he asked if you slept at all.

"I did, Hwa. Don't worry. Your salt beef is in the fridge." You informed. Seonghwa's eyes widened in excitement.

"You didn't..."

"I did." You nodded. Seonghwa left you and immediately headed for the walk in. He came back out with the piece of salt beef that you had used earlier.

"See? You should get a meat slicer so we don't have to manually slice it anymore." Jongho chuckled.

"If you can find anymore space in my kitchen to put an industrial meat slicer, go ahead, Jong." You rolled your eyes. Wooyoung was still glued to your side, his arms around your waist as he leaned his head on your shoulder tiredly.

Yunho watched this exchange quietly. You were really so different when you were around familiar people. Not only were you more relaxed, there was a little bit more playfulness in the way you spoke.

"Okay, get to work." You said, patting Wooyoung on the hip. He went to get his apron.

"What has been done?" He asked.

"Muffins and coffee crumb cake are in the oven. Chicken & leek pie filling is done, pastry has not been rolled out and blind baked. I was getting Yunho started on the financier batter."

"Are you getting more comfortable around the kitchen?" Seonghwa asked Yunho, chewing on a slice of salt beef.

"Thanks for (y/n)!" He replied enthusiastically. You raised your eyebrows at his reply.

"Hwa, stop eating and get to work. You can make your sandwich later." You scolded. Seonghwa laughed and covered the meat back up with the paper wrapping, putting it back into the walk in. He washed his hands and was by your side immediately, assisting you with what you were doing.

"Maybe I should move out of the way." Yunho said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"No, it's fine. Just finishing weighing all this according to this. Woo, take over the mixing later?" You turned to the male. Wooyoung gave you a thumbs up.

"I'm making the brown butter now." He informed, swirling the pan on the stove. The brown butter gives financiers a nutty flavour.

"It smells nice in here!" San came through the door.

"Boss man is working in the kitchen?" Yeosang tilted his head, seeing Yunho working with Jongho by the mixer. Wooyoung nodded his head with a playful giggle.

"Told you guys I can bake." Yunho scoffed.

"Are you sure you didn't just eat the scraps?" Mingi scoffed, coming back into the kitchen with an iced coffee in hand.

"No, that's not true! I'm not like all of you who just samples and eats everything. I actually helped make the coffee crumb cake. Didn't I, (y/n)?" Yunho frowned with a small pout. You nodded in confirmation, stirring the icing for said cake in your bowl.

"Ice and slice." You slid the bowl of icing to Jongho. Jongho picked it up immediately, drizzling the icing over the cooled cake in a zig-zag pattern. Yunho looked on, proud that he helped make that.

"Financiers going in the oven." Wooyoung announced.

"I'll do the bacon and egg danishes." Seonghwa said. You went over to help him with that.

"We should go get the store front ready for opening. Stock the coffee bar with what we need." Yunho said to his 4 friends. The 5 of them went out, leaving the kitchen.

"Hongjoong, I moved the box of milk cartons into the walk in. They were delivered this morning." You informed.

"Okay, thanks (y/n)." Hongjoong smiled and went to the walk in with Yeosang to help him move the boxes of milk cartons out to the front.

"Can I make all of you a drink?" Mingi offered. You still had the coffee Yunho made you so only Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Jongho gave their drink orders.

The 4 of you worked well, like usual, all falling into your own tasks and jobs without having to give too much detailed instructions. Jongho did the prep and final touches, Wooyoung was working on one pastry while Seonghwa did another. You floated between them, helping them or pulling stuff out of the oven.

"You made sure a pretty crimp, Jongho." You chuckled as you pulled out the chicken and leek pies. Yunho liked the idea of a mix of savoury and sweet baked goods to sell.

"I'm going to slice the banana cake." You said, cutting the loaves of banana cake into slices for serving.

"Ready for the counter." Seonghwa told the boys outside. They came in to help carry the completed sweets out to the front.

"Can I try a slice of the coffee cake?" Yunho asked. Jongho cut him a slice and served it on a plate for him. Yunho took a bite and you swore his eyes sparkled.

"I helped make this?!" He asked in disbelief. You nodded slowly, eyebrows raised in slight amusement.

"Oh my gosh! Guys, eat this! I helped make it!" Yunho ran out to let his friends try it. And to possibly rub in their faces that he was able to make something so delicious in the kitchen without blowing something up, unlike them.

"Did Yunho really make help make that? Cause it's actually edible." Mingi pointed to the plate. Yunho slapped the back of his head with an offended frown.

"He did. He measured out everything and did the cake mixing." You replied, wiping down the counter.

You heard Yunho open up the shop and the chatter of customers come in. The boys outside went to work at once, serving customers.

"Lunch will be reuben sandwiches." You said.

"Another of those amazing sandwiches?" Yunho beamed as he overheard your words while he walked in to retrieve more cocoa powder from the pantry.

"Mhmm." You nodded. Yunho grinned and nodded before leaving the kitchen.

"Another? You mean, you made him a reuben already?" Wooyoung asked. You nodded again.

"This morning when he came in early. I let him try the salt beef and made him a reuben. Although, I think he might like the sauerkraut a little more than the actual meat. He's never had a reuben before and was quite amazed by it." You explained with a small smile on your face, remembering his reaction to the sandwich.

"Wow. Look at you having cute moments with our boss." Jongho teased with his arms crossed. You shot him a flat look, rolling your eyes and continuing what you were doing.

"There was no moment. I made him a sandwich. I have been making all of you sandwiches for so long." You said.

"The first sandwich she made me was kimchi and peanut butter." Seonghwa remembered.

"I was 5!" You hissed.

"And so cute. You looked at me and asked me if it was delicious, I had to tell you it was the best thing I've ever eaten." He laughed, patting your head and pinching your cheek.

"You know what, make your own salt beef next time. I'm not going to be nice to you anymore." You frowned.

"Sure, you know you can't help but be nice to me." Seonghwa wrapped his arms around you, hugging you. You and Seonghwa have been taking care of each other for a long time. While you never verbally expressed yourself, you did it through acts of service.

After all the cakes and pastries were done, you all did the clean up. Wooyoung and Seonghwa did the dishes while you and Jongho made sandwiches for everyone.

"I'll start toasting the sandwiches." You stood at the stove. Jongho helped you put the sandwiches on the pan.

"Whew, it's busy out there!" San huffed as he entered, leaning against the wall tiredly.

"Want a sandwich?" Wooyoung offered. San brightened up, coming over to see what the 4 of you were eating. You gave him one of the sandwiches and he ate it.

"What? This is so good!" San chewed and looked at the sandwich that he had just taken a bit out of.

"It's called a reuben sandwich. There's beef, cheese, pickled cabbage and a dressing. And then it is toasted." Jongho said, munching on the dill pickle that he usually had alongside his reuben. It was homemade, made by Jongho himself. Wooyoung and Seonghwa preferred just crisps.

"The beef is nice. The spices is good and it's really smokey." San nodded as he took another bite.

"It tastes better when you use an actual smoker." You chuckled. There was no space in a Korean apartment for a full size smoker so you relied on a makeshift one, using wood chips in your oven.

"Hey! What are you eating without me?" Mingi came in, tired from the Friday crowd. He came over to see what San was eating.

"Woah, that looks bomb." Mingi commented, looking at the sandwich. Seonghwa slid one over to him.

"That's for you." He informed. Mingi beamed excitedly and went to wash his hands before digging into the sandwich hungrily. San looked at Mingi with a smirk.

"Isn't it one of the best things you've ever had?" San laughed.

"It's amazing! What? How can a sandwich be so good?" Mingi said in disbelief, taking another bite to convince himself. You, Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Jongho shot each other looks. This was such a genuinely amazed reaction, it was amusing.

"Yunho reacted the same way as all of you." You stated.

"Wait, Yunho's already had one? When?" Mingi and San turned to you in confusion.

"This morning when he came in. I made him one for breakfast." You blinked, taking a bite of your own sandwich.

"And he didn't think to leave any for us? Or tell us about it? See, I told you he was selfish over food." Mingi scoffed at his best friend. San laughed but nodded in agreement.

"Someone is talking about me in here?" Yunho poked his head in. His eyes narrowed in on the sandwich Mingi was eating.

"Is he eating my sandwich?!" Yunho screeched.

"Relax. Yours, Yeosang's and Hongjoong's are here." You pointed to the plates on the back counter. Yunho let out a sigh of relief, no way was he going to share his sandwich, even with his best friend.

"San, if you're done. We need help." Hongjoong popped in briefly. San went to wash his hands and went back out to help manage the crowd and orders. Yunho came in, closing the kitchen door behind him. Mingi looked at him with a raised eyebrow, making Yunho frown in confusion as to why he was being stared at.

"What?"

"You had one sandwich all to yourself this morning for breakfast. Didn't think to leave any of it for us to try?" Mingi asked.

"You're having one now, aren't you? Leave me and my sandwich alone." Yunho scoffed with a pout. They all were like children, fighting over food.

"I share everything with you! You're being selfish." Mingi exclaimed.

"Sorry, Mingi ah. We're best friends but when it comes to delicious food like this, it's every man for himself." Yunho shrugged.

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mosylufanfic · 3 months

Text

A Mere Trifle

My first contribution to Rebelcaptain Fluffbruary! The prompt I went with was "dessert."

A Mere Trifle

Bodhi opened the fridge. "Oooooh," he said in delight. His roommate made sweets and desserts to relax, and Bodhi was usually the beneficiary.

"Don't you fucking touch the fucking trifle!" Jyn yelled from another room.

"Why not?" he yelled back, but set the bowl of trifle back where he'd found it.

"Because I'm saving it for poker night, you glutton."

Bodhi raised his brows at nothing. Poker night was at theirs tomorrow night, and while most everyone brought food, it was more along the lines of grocery-store chips and dip. Not a dessert of multiple layers and steps and approximately thirty thousand calories.

He grabbed the leftover Chinese instead, gave it a sniff, and concluded it probably wasn't going to kill him. Eating beef and broccoli out of the container, he went to the other room where Jyn scowled at the computer screen full of her photos that she was working on. "Not even a nibble?" he asked pitifully.

"Nope."

He licked sauce off his thumb. "It's got all berries and whipped cream and custard. You seriously expect me to resist?"

"Yes, I do, or I'll shave your head in your sleep."

Bodhi put a protective hand over his ponytail. "You're a cruel woman, Jyn Erso."

She bit her thumbnail, narrowing her eyes at two virtually identical images of an empty lot. She twiddled a setting and suddenly the tiny yellow flowers blooming amongst the lanky dried grass burst into focus. "You've known that for years," she said.

Poker night started around seven, or whenever enough people straggled in to get a decent game going. Bodhi expected the trifle to come out as they set up the table and pulled mismatched chairs in from all over the house. But only the two party subs that Jyn had picked up on her way home from work made an appearance.

"It's got to stay chilled," Jyn claimed when he asked about it.

"Uh . . . huh," he said, but had to go answer the door before he could needle the truth out of her.

It was Melshi, who came armed with various chips. "You ready to lose?" he crowed, setting a bag of tortilla chips next to the subs.

"No, but you'd better be," Bodhi told him.

"Big talk. Beers in the fridge?" Melshi asked.

"Yup."

He opened the door, grabbed a beer off the door, and paused. "Holy shit, Jyn, did you make that?"

Jyn was across the room in a split second, smacking his hand. "Don't touch!"

"Why not?" he whined, cradling his hand.

"Cos I said so." She slapped the door closed. "Go stuff your face with a sandwich. Veggie's on the left side."

Melshi sighed heavily and went to pile his slice of veggie sub high with peppers and mayo.

Leia and her brother came in next, then Kay, then Luke's truck-driver friend, Han, and his large, hairy roommate, Chewie, and then Shara and Kes from down the hall. About half of them mentioned the trifle, and every time, Jyn refused to let them get it out.

It didn't escape Bodhi's notice that Jyn's head snapped around every time the door opened. It also didn't escape his notice that Cassian Andor, who worked at the paper where Jyn sometimes picked up photo gigs, wasn't there yet.

People skipped poker night for work, holidays, hot dates, classes, and exhaustion. Usually they put it in the group text. Bodhi checked his phone.

"Nobody's canceled," Jyn said without looking at her own.

"Right," Bodhi said, grinning to himself, and arranged his bingo chips. "Okay, who won the last game at Han and Chewie's?"

"Me," Kes said, raising his hand, and taking the deck to deal.

Two rounds in, Jyn was looking very downcast, but she still snarled like a Doberman whenever anybody went near the fridge.

"We ever gonna get some of that dessert?" Han whispered to Bodhi.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Bodhi whispered back.

The doorknob rattled, and Jyn got half out of her chair before the door opened. She sat back down as Cassian came in. "Hey," he said, brushing snow out of his hair.

"Hey," Jyn said casually. "Thought you weren't going to make it."

"Sorry," he said, shrugging out of his coat. "I kept thinking I was almost done with the article and then I wasn't. How much has Melshi lost?"

Melshi flipped him off.

"Not enough yet," Jyn said, and got Melshi's finger next. "Did you get anything to eat?"

"No, and I'm dying. Tell me there's something left."

She waved a hand at the subs, mostly decimated on the counter. He put one of each kind on his plate and added mustard, then piled the rest of his plate high with potato chips and the baby carrots that Luke had brought.

"Should be beers in the fridge," she added. "Oh, and I forgot about a dessert I left in there, can you get it out?"

"Ohhh!"

"So he gets some of that first?"

"I see how it is, Erso!"

"That's who it was for?"

"Well well well!"

Jyn scowled. "Okay, the lot of you can go fuck yourselves."

"What?" Cassian asked, popping his head up over the fridge door and looking at all of them quizzically.

"Nothing," Jyn said. "Everybody here is a fucking moron, that's all. You find it?"

"With all the whipped cream? Wow," he said, pulling it out. "This looks amazing, Jyn. Is this the thing you were telling me about last week? Whatsits. Trifle?"

"Oh, yeah, it is," Jyn said as if it was a massive coincidence.

He looked at her for a moment, a little smile playing around the corners of his mouth. "I can't believe it survived this long with these animals."

Melshi opened his mouth, then yelped as if a Doc Marten had met his shin with force.

"Well, like I said, I forgot about it," Jyn said.

Bodhi looked across the table at her and mouthed, You're so full of shit. She ignored him, a blush spreading up her face.

Cassian sat down next to her, juggling his plate of sandwiches and a serving of trifle in a bowl. "This is really good," he said with his mouth full. "I mean, really. Wow." He nudged Luke. "Get some of this, it's incredible."

"Thanks," Jyn said, shrugging, dealing the next hand. "It was nothing."

FINIS

#Jyn Erso #Cassian Andor #rebelcaptain #fanfiction #mosylufanfic lives up to her damn name #Modern AU #fluffbruary #star wars

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yoichiris · 1 year

Text

daytime shooting stars | isagi yoichi x reader ✩ a date with a reality show soccer star

"yocchan!"

you wave to him happily when you see him running up to you. from far away, he looks exactly like the last time you saw him: in his dorky vest, his hair covering his eyes slightly, with his bookbag slung over his shoulder.

but as he gets closer to you, you can see the difference. he fills his clothes like he hasn't before, the fabric stretching tightly across his chest and his shoulders. he's wider, bigger. you're sure he hasn't gotten taller, but something about him seems grander, towering over you.

"hey, yn!" he snaps you out of your daze, picking you up and twirling you around, "did you wait long?"

you shake your head when he puts you down. "nope," you smile at him, "what do you want to eat today?"

"meat," he grins, grabbing your hand, tugging you along.

isagi brings you to the yakiniku restaurant you guys used to go to after his ichinan matches, even though those days seem so far away now. several people recognize him on the way there while you stand in the background.

"you sure are popular, mr. blue lock," you tease, bumping your shoulder into his.

he blushes, but still asks, "you proud of me?"

your eyes soften. it reminds you that he's still the same yoichi as before, still wanting your praise. you nod, brushing his hair away from his eyes. he smiles, noticing your uncharacteristic silence, and catches your hand in his.

"do you want to eat anything in particular?" he asks softly, cradling your fingers.

you smile cheekily, "anything you want, as long as you pay."

"of course," he puffs his chest jokingly, and you laugh to appease him, "don't you know i'm worth millions now?"

yeah, you think. not the same isagi. but he orders way too much food, with the same expression he's always had when a good meal is mentioned, and you relax again.

you keep an eye on the veggies while he meticulously flips the grilled meat. just like before, you think, picking up a piece of mushroom and sandwiching it with juicy slices of beef.

“say ahh, yocchan,” you prompt, holding up the chopsticks to isagi’s mouth.

he chomps down on the bite with enthusiasm, and you giggle at the look of delight on his face. he finishes chewing too quickly, and opens his mouth for another bite. in return he blows on the hot food for you and feeds you the fattiest piece of pork.

being together since you were young has its perks, you smile. habits like these don’t go away.

“yoichi,” you call to him once you’re outside, tangling your fingers with his, and taking a breath of the fresh air, “will you forget about me when you’re the number one striker in the world?”

he’s surprised when you turn to him.

“why are you asking that?” he questions, tugging you closer to him, “how could i forget my favorite person in the entire world?”

you laugh, pushing him away, “be serious!”

but he doesn’t let you go, catching you around the waist instead and cupping your face in his hands. his eyes have turned serious as he presses his forehead to yours.

“i’m being serious, y/n,” he tells you resolutely, “i could never forget you, and i could never be number one without you.”

you remember his declaration of wanting to be the best striker at nine years old, then again at fourteen, and here is now, at seventeen. you thought those statements had never included you.

but you feel him now, all hard muscles and calloused fingers, and he seems exactly like the yocchan that would kick a ball with you on the playground.

“okay,” you reply, stealing a quick kiss from him, “do you wanna get dessert?”

he grins, "yes, and i want another kiss."

you press your lips to his again, surely this time, and you feel his arms tighten around you. greedy, you think. ambitious. the isagi you've always loved.

#blue lock x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #bllk x reader #yoi's crops 🌱#from: isagi yoichi 🎀

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itsmebytch001 · 9 days

Text

Carmy's Kid: Pt 1

Sat down on a leathery dirty seat the bussesl of customers swallowing you up pondering on your testing math work, and the overhearing of your father screaming was certainly not helping in the mildest.

Carmy: "Cousin, Cousin?!" He bangs his pan onto the stove.

Richie: "What? What?!" He turns into the kitchen from the freezer.

Richie: "Corner" Sydney swerves around him.

Carmy: "Where is the fucking Borchetta?"

Richie: "Oh I don't know why don't you look for it, I don't what with maybe your eyes? You know those water things in your eyes?"

Carmy: "I'm doing a million things right now cousin can you please please tell me where the God damm Borchetta is?!"

Richie: "I DON'T KNOW!" He screamed, your Dad looks like he's about to snap.

Carmy: "Sydney, you see the Borchetta is?"

Sydney: "No Chef, Corner!"

Carmy: "Marcus?"

Marcus: "No Chef, behind!" he bellowed skimping behind his co-workers.

Carmy: "Dear God I know somebody's got the fucking Borchetta!"

Richie: "You know what cousin? maybe it grew legs and ran away, huh? Do ya think maybe that's happened baby?"

Carmy: "you know what? Go fuck yourself Richie"

Richie: "You kiss your daughter with that mouth?"

Carmy: "Don't talk bout my fucking kid Richie"

Richie: "See? See? he did it again! My God she's gonna be swearing like a sailor ain't she Sids?"

Sydney: "Shut up CORNER!"

Richie: "shut up? Shut up? are you for real?" He took a stride towards Sydney as she help a hot tray full of cooked beef.

Carmy: "Step off Richie"

Richie: "Shut up?" He loomed over like a mildly threatening swamp three.

Sydney: "Get out my face"

Richie: " sorry what was that sweetie?"

Sydney: "Get.Out.My.Face" her hands tensed over the hot tray, a hand reaches over Riche's shoulder.

Carmy: "Step the fuck off Richie, NOW HAS ANYBODY SEEN THE FUCKING BORCEHTTA?!"

Richie: "Look in the God Damm pantry, you retarded prick!"

Sydney: "You not supposed to say-"

Richie: "Oh Go fuck yourself Sydney"

Carmy:"Behind, behind, behind behind" he repeated snaking his way too the pantry, scanning over it to find no Borchetta.

Carmy: "It's not here cousin!"

Richie: "Look fucking harder!"

Carmy: "Fuck fuck fuck fuck " He's scrambling picking up soft cheese checking the lable and again and again and again where is it where is it where the Hell is it?

Carmy: "It IS NOT HERE COUSIN!"

Richie: "Dear God you blind dick, behind, behind, behind, behind"

He repeated following his path too the pantry, reaching for the top shelf, and picking up...the Borchetta.

Richie: "Here" he said practically throwing it at him.

Richie: "Next time don't be such a bitch about it, it's fucking cheese man"

Camry rubbed his eyes, the top shelf, the top fucking shelf maybe Richie put it up there just to push him, lanky ass dick, I should fire him. can I fire him? Did Mike leave me hire fire power? well I have hire power...it would be for the best...but how's he gonna pay his Child support? who care? No No that's cruel, he won't be able to see her any more if he can't pay, and imagine is you couldn't see Y/n? Imagine if Richie took Y/n then what would you do? I'd kill him? Obviously yeah and it's like you can run this joint if your fucking dead so shut up and don't fire Richie, m'kay? kay fine, jeez.

Camry rubbed his eyes, he's so tired.

Y/n.

Camry: "shiiiiit, Chefs! Eyes on Y/n!" Tina peers her head out the door to see you still, looking sadly onto your maths paper.

Tina: "Got her Chef, who's the guy?"

Carmy: "who's that what?"

Tina: "That guy? sittin across her?"

Camry: "What?" He said pacing quickly over looming behind her to see some dirty old hobo talking to you.

Carmy: "Ay AY what the fuck you think you doing?!" he yelled over at him.

Tina: "Chill man, he seem's harmless"

Richie: "Seem's, yeah."

Carmy lightly pushed past Tina out the kitchen and into the diner.

Carmy: "Get out, GET OUT!" He yelled at the man, who really had done nothing wrong, eating his sandwich.

"Whoah, Whoah I ain't done nothing man"

Carmy: "Fuck you doing sitting across my kid?" He grips the mans shirt and pulls him close.

"There aren't any more seats?" They are infacnt, no more seats.

Carmy looks around and confirms, there are no more seats.

Carmy: "I don't give a fuck, you eat outside!"

"Its snowing?!"

Carmy: " I don't care, get out GET OUT!"

You place your head on the counter and cover your ears, your Dad get's scary when he's like this. Your 'Uncle' Richie slips in behind pressing his hands in between Your Dad, and the homless guy.

Richie: "Chill man you gotta chill"

Camry:" Don't tell me what the fuck to do Cousin"

Richie: "Look around your scaring her you idiot"

Camry glances over to you, your forehead pressed against the table your ears covered.

fuck.

he released the man from his grasp, collecting himself in deep shaggred breaths as he scattred off.

Richie: "You gotta chill ma-"

Camry banged his fist onto the table.

Camry: "OKAY LISTEN UP, LADIES AND GENTELMEN THIS SEAT HERE!" He pointed at you "WITH THE LITTLE GIRL IN THE PURPLE COAT, IS RESEVRED, Mkay?! ANYONE ONE WHO SIT'S ON IT BANNED!" He pointed at the homless man rushing his way out.

Carmy: "BANNED!" He banged his fist on the table again, fishing his speech, causing you to tense and shudder Richie gestured to you, shaking still with your hands over your ears, Camy wiped his hand over his face, realsing how over board he had just gone. He leaned over the table and gave you a kiss on the head.

Carmy: "I'm sorry I yelled baby, I'm so sorry" He rubbed your hair and you lifted your head.

Carmy: "Tell you what, Tell you what? I'll help you when we get home if you want? yeah?"

Y/n: "Sure"

Carmy: "Okay, okay I love you" He said kissing again on your temple.

Y/n: "How long till closing?"

Carmy: "4 Hours baby"

Y/n: "Four!?"

Carmy: "That's just how it is baby, but we got a stack of books you could read yeah? Still working your way through Harry Potter"

Y/n: "Ugh, fine" You sank into your chair.

Camry: "Okay, okay well I gotta get back to work now baby"

Y/n: "I know"

Camry: "M'kay, RICHIE!" he yelled off into the kitchen.

Richie: "what?!"

Carmy:" Get Y/n her fucking books!"

Richie: "Which one?!"

Camry: "All of em!"

Richie rolled his eyes and collected the thick stack of books and plopped them onto 'your' table.

Richie: "Here you go Princess"

Y/n: "thanks"

As Carmy and Richie walked back into the kitchen, leaving you to your devices,

Richie: "Why don't you get her a Ipad? keep her entertained for hours no complaints"

Carmy: "I'd rather skin myself, now fuck off and get me some Borchetta, this is off"

pt 2? Need ideas.

#jeremy allen white #carmy berzatto #the bear #the bear x reader #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader

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billthedrake · 1 year

Text

BUCK ON BEEF

(Heads up: This one has some rougher oral sex.)

It was a perfect Spring day to sit inside and watch the Masters. As Tom Miller turned on the big screen TV and flipped through the channels, he undid his tie and the top botton on his Sunday-best dress shirt. No two ways about it, Tom was a big man, 6'2" and carrying his former linebacker brawn on his frame, along with that married girth and a big broad belly.... topping 300 on the scale.

Tom sometimes thought he should cut back on the Chik-Fil-A sandwiches, or the fries, or the few beers he planned to have watching golf. He could get back to his playing weight or something closer to it. But the banker and father of two felt comfortable in his body. He had a very pretty (and still thin) ex-sorority wife who was into her big cuddly teddy bear of a husband.

And god help him, his son Trey liked Tom's girth, too. Like, really liked it.

"Hey, Dad," the high school quarterback said in his teen voice which even at 18 seemed to deepen by the day. The 6'2" stud had already changed out of his church clothes and walked into the den in just a flimsy pair of his high school team shorts. If his dad looked, he'd see Trey already sporting a good shank of teen bone.

Tom did look. When he and Trey first started fooling around, the family man had tried to put the breaks on it. Now, he leaned into it, the whole insane physicality of this affair with his son.

"Jesus, kiddo..." he growled with a playful laugh. Did that kid always have sex on his brain?

"Come on, Dad... Mom and Chels are swimming at the club all afternoon. It's been a couple weeks since we've had a long session."

Tom got a shy look on his full, masculine face as he stepped up to Trey and lightly gripped his son's waist. Trey took charge of the kiss, though, like he always did. One hand behing his dad's neck, the other greedily cupping that meaty ass cheek through the man's trousers to pull in all that dad beef.

"Damn, Dad," Trey hissed, his blue eyes peering into his daddy's. He leaned back and openly appraised his father's build, the way that blue blazer opened up to frame that belly. Trey had been fucking Coach Carson lately, too, as well as Mr. Reynolds, his math teacher, but none of those other men had the amazing thickness of his father. Placing his hands right on that stomach, the jock hissed, "It's been a while since we've had date night, sir."

God, Trey knew how to make Tom feel like he was a young jock himself. Carrying on a bromance with one of the D-line players on that South Carolina roster of 98. "It has been," the man answered in a husky Southern drawl. "Maybe in a couple of weeks," he hissed. "I'll tell the girls that you and I are taking a guys weekend... catch a couple of Braves games."

Trey grinned. Like any Southern jock, he was more than a little spoiled and used to getting his way. "Sounds awesome, Dad." He relinquished his feel of Tom's belly and through his peripheral vision, the father could see Trey push those shorts down, all the way off.

Indeed as Trey stepped back, he fisted that giant QB tool. Ten inches and almost flashlight thick. Two heavy nuts dangled low from the hard shaft. "Why don't you suck my cock some, Dad?" he asked.

Tom didn't know where the kid inherited that big stick from. He himself had a respectable enough tool, thick and meaty, like the rest of him, but the son was about three inches longer than him. It was insane. "I thought I raised you to say please and thank you, son," he teased.

Trey nodded. "Yessir. Would you please suck my cock, Dad?" he laughed.

"Guess that's as good as I'm gonna get," Tom chuckled as he kicked off his loafers and undid his belt. He was rock hard and as he folded his trousers over the end of the sofa, he couldn't help but be pleased by how perpetually fixated Trey was on the dick that made him.

Now stripped from the waist down except for some dress socks, Tom sat down on the sofa, his burly 300-ish pound frame looking bigger in a seated position, that big belly hanging over, that neck looking fuller. He was still in church attire from the waist up, and he was hunkering down to suck some oversized son meat.

"God yes," Trey gasped as Tom slathered his meaty cock. The QB placed his hands on his waist and let his dad do the work getting reacquainted with that dick before starting to service the teen. Trey got off on the contrast between his nakedness and his father's clothed, bulky form. "Suck me, Dad. Fuck yes...."

Then feeling super horned up, the athlete spread his legs a little and gripped his father's skull. And he powered his way deep into his dad's gullet.

Tom coughed up some throat slime at the intrusion but sucked it off that prick and back down his throat.

"Come on, Dad," Trey hissed, hips pausing a second before resuming their deep pump. "You did this a couple nights ago no problem."

The thick spit was now dripping down the big man's chin and onto his dress shirt as the jock son fucked his face rigorously. As sloppy throat sounds filled the room, Trey's eyes averted to the TV... he grinned as he thought how his first JO fantasies involved big-bellied golfers... Mickelson, Harrington, Rahm... Trey would flog his big teen bone thinking of fucking those dudes from here to Sunday.

"All right, Dad," Trey hissed. His voice wasn't dominant but instead encouraging. He and his father had been working on this trick. With a rough shove, he pulled his dad's face flush to his crotch.

"One mississippi.... two mississippi..." the quarterback counted off. Tom's face flushed beet red as his esophagus felt crazy full with his son's hard dong, cutting off his air. "... six mississippi... " Tom Miller started to gag but kept it in check. This was like deep throating Reggie, his defensive jock buddy back in the day. But better.

"You got this," Trey hissed, so turned on by the spasms of his father's throat and the fact the old man would let him do this.

Tom coughed again, sputtering around his son's huge shaft.

"Eleven mississippi!" Trey beamed proundly as he pulled out his cock. A heavy strand of throat slime came out with it, some of it dribbling down Tom's chin, the rest hanging from the tip of Trey's stalk till it snapped off and fell right on his dad's half-unbuttoned dress shirt.

"Fuck, that's nasty," Trey growled in lust.

The first time he'd gagged on Trey, Tom had felt embarrassed. Now, he loved the horny limits-testing they did. Trey pushing Dad in some old fashioned throat training, Dad seeing just how much mind can win out over body.

Tom leaned in greedily and swiped up some of that excess mucus.

That cock twitched when he did, but Trey's voice got a deep neediness. "Leave some of that slime on there, Dad. It'll make good lube."

Tom nodded, now in synch with his son's horniness. Undoing the remaining buttons of his shirt, he lay back on the couch, pulling his legs up.

"Goddamn, Dad," the young buck grunted, so turned on as he crawled up onto the sofa. His staff was angry-hard, and very wet from the throat job. He pushed it down to line it up with his father's slot. Normally, he'd enjoy the foreplay but Tom had worked up him too much, too fast. He didn't shove in but got a toe hold a half inch past the dadpucker.

"OOF!" Tom grunted. He would have admonished Trey, but his son knew what he was doing. Trey had never done anything but make the big man feel great.

The jock held steady and looked down on the 40-something bull of a man. Once again, he openly ran his hands over his dad's bulk, now able to touch the soft fur and bare skin. "I love your gut, sir... so fucking sexy."

An inch more dick pushed into his dad, who now more readily relaxed around that thick dong. Not only did Trey have the best throwing arm in Forsyth County, he surely carried the biggest dick around, too.

"I should probably slim down," Tom half objected. His son was so lean and muscular and perfect, the contrast did give the man a pause.

"Don't you dare," Trey laughed, spearing more meat inside his old man. "You could get bigger, Dad, and I'd fucking love it."

Tom grinned and pulled his arms back, hands behind his head, making the blazer and open shirt pull wide open. He was on full display for his son, gut and rounded pecs and all. "You a chubby chaser, son?" he asked. Before, he'd been too self conscious of his size around Trey, but now he wanted to know everything about what made his son tick.

Trey thought for a second, doing little micro-thrusts of his meat in and out of the daddy tightness. "Not really. I dunno... I just like having a lot of Daddy to hold onto." His hands were now on Tom's surprisingly firm, rounded belly, right as he pushed all the way in.

"You're tapping my hole, son," Tom hissed. This was always the most uncomfortable part of the fuck, but uncomfortable in a good way. It made Tom feel he was being taken for real. Even Reggie never tapped that second ring.

Trey nodded. "Want me to breach it today?" he asked.

Tom exhaled. "Fuck. I don't know." He wanted it, but each time Trey did was really fucking intense.

That son cock twitched inside the man's tight guts. It had taken them so long to work up to anal so readily, but it was now perfect for Trey... just the right relaxation of dadcunt to let him in, but still a hell of a lot of snugness around his prick. "Pull those legs, back," the QB urged.

Tom took a deep breath and did as instructed, pulling those thick thighs all the way back, and lifting his ass some in the process.

Trey waited a second, then pushed his hips all the way forward, driving his fat battering ram past the inner tightness.

"Oh my fucking GOD!" Tom yelled.

"Too much Daddy?" Trey checked in. It was vice tight way up there, and Trey worried this was too much for his father.

Tom exhaled again, biting his lip before responding. "God help me son, I want it. Work your cock over that entrance."

Trey grinned and examined his dad's big body as he did as instructed. Slow working back and forth over that ring.

"Fuck yes," Tom hissed. "My hung stud son..."

Trey got into it, making those strokes longer, knowing his dad was opened up inside. Pretty soon he was fucking harder and longer.

"Yes.... fuck me, son. Pound your daddy." Tom was geting into that wild, didn't-give-a-fuck part of the sex act. He needed this, all ten huge inches of Trey railing him.

It was like poppers to Trey, whose hips gained speed and power. He watched, wide eyed as that gut swayed with each power thrusts and those full titties bounced. That made him fuck harder, just to see those 300-plus pounds of beef jiggle more.

"Fuck!" Tom beat Trey's cum by two seconds, that dad dick spraying hands free all over his belly as his inner ring got battered.

And just as quickly, Trey's prick fucked on the slickness of his own seed. Finally the blur of those teen buck hips slowed to gentle sway, then a stop.

"Damn, Dad," the jock said, a little out of breath. "That was fucking hot."

Tom could only nod. Any thoughts had been fucked out of him. He was glad Trey was withdrawing as the deep fullness in his ass was getting too much, fast.

Trey had that satisfied look as he pulled back and knelt on the sofa, hands on his hips and still-hard meet sticking out, covered in fuck juices.

Tom scrambled to lean in, gently cleaning off his son's meat with long swipes of his tongue.

Now, he felt a little ashamed, and he wasn't sure the way Trey ruffled his hair affectionately made it better or worse.

He looked up at the TV once more then back at his dad. "I guess you want to watch your golf," Trey said. Maybe feeling a little bad he'd interrupted his father's Sunday ritual.

"Yeah," Tom said as he sat back in the sofa, his big belly falling over his sated genitals. Then he took another look at his hunky son. "Actually... how long did you say the girls would be at the Club?"

With a grin, he watched Trey's young buck cock jerk out into a fuck hard once more.

#drakestories

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