#i am cringe so i am free or whatever it is they say

[ghostwnby]

Crashing Tides

Authors note: So remember about 3 or 4 ish months ago I said I was working on a surfer shop worker!Daniel + moody rich 19 year old!Max age gap romance fic? Well, surprise! After a billion years the first part of it is finally here. I'm not 100% happy with it but I decided to finally just say fuck it and bite the bullet with it. I am hoping to write more in the future about this au but in the meantime if you have any suggestions or ideas about this au please feel free to share them with me :) my asks are always open <3 otherwise, I hope you enjoy!!

Warnings: language

Word count: 2,029 (2k)

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The warmth of the Australian sun beats down harshly on Daniel’s skin as he tries his best to dodge and weave through the crowded boardwalk, not wanting to run anyone over with his bike. He wipes the layer of sweat that had gathered on his forehead off on the back of his hand, cringing slightly at the sheer amount of it. 

He silently regrets not taking a shower before leaving the house, but at this rate, with the amount of people blocking his way, he was going to be late.

Damn tourists. 

He can hear his boss, Mark, now: "Look, who finally decided to show up! I’m glad you think this company runs on your schedule.” He rolls his eyes at the mental image of the older Australian man passive-aggressively scolding him. You would think a person who owns a beachside surf shop would be more laid-back, but no. Ever since his wife left him last summer, his boss has been nothing but a crotchety old man. And trust me, Daniel has tried many times to invite him out to bars to be his wingman for the night, but every time he offers, he gets immediately shut down and scolded for even offering. 

Sorry, he was just trying to be a good co-worker and get his boss some stress relief in the form of a one-night stand with a beautiful lady. 

Pulling up to the shop, Daniel rushes off his bike, hastily reaching into his bag to grab his bike lock and securing it to the pole near the side of the building. Once secure, he practically bolts into the front entrance of the shop, accidentally slamming the door open a bit too hard for his liking, causing a few customers and his coworker, Lando, to perk their heads up and look in his direction. 

“I know. I know. But technically, I’m early. I still have a minute until I’m supposed to be here.” Daniel says matter-of-factly, shining a bright smile at the younger man as he walks up to the front counter that his co-worker is lounging lazily against. 

“You're cutting it close, mate.” Lando comments as he glances up at the shark-themed clock on the wall. (What? His boss might be an ass, but at least he’s an ass with good taste.) 

10:59 am

Lando shakes his head. “I don’t know if you want to push your luck too much. Mark is in a pissy mood today.” He explains.

Daniel rolls his eyes. “When is he not?”

Lando glances over his shoulder, making sure the door to the manager’s office is shut before whispering, “I don't know, mate; he seems grouchier than normal. Like something’s really ticked him off.” 

Daniel raises an eyebrow at the younger man. He opens his mouth to respond, but before he can, the door of the manager’s office slams open, revealing his boss on the other side.

“Speak of the devil.” Lando whispers as both of the men straighten back up as their boss steps out of his office. 

"Daniel, I'm so glad you finally decided to join us for your shift that you were scheduled for.” Mark greets, scowling at him.

“Good morning to you too, Mark.” Daniel says, not bothering to hide the sarcasm that coats his words. The older man scoffs at him, rolling his eyes in a way Daniel can only describe as Oscar-worthy with how dramatic it was. 

“Whatever. It’s not like I have been waiting for you all morning to get your lazy ass here.” Mark hisses, motioning his hand to the shark clock on the wall. 11:00 am. Daniel has to repress the urge to roll his eyes. He’s been there for less than 2 minutes, and he’s already having to deal with Mark’s bullshit. That has to be a new record. 

"Sorry, I wasn’t here earlier. Emily decided to have a breakdown this morning about having to stay with my parents for the day.” Daniel explains half-heartedly, knowing no matter what explanation or excuse he gives the older man, he’s not going to be pleased either way.

“Well, maybe you should invest in some parenting classes then since you aren’t doing a great job at controlling your kid.” Mark sneers, “You know what? Never mind, I don’t care at this point.” 

Daniel can feel his frustration growing by the second. Honestly can’t he just back off? He’s here, isn’t he? It’s not like he’s one of the only workers there, besides Lando, who does his job. If it wasn’t for the fact that the pay was nice, Daniel would have been out of there the second Mark started acting this way last summer. Plus he’s been working at the surf shop for almost 5 years now and what has he gotten for it? Nothing except for the temporary title of shift lead whenever Mark isn’t there. 

As if he can sense the tension in the air between the two older men, Lando decides to speak up. 

“Oh uh..by the way, Mark, this dude called earlier. I think he said his name was Jos? He said his son would be here around 11:30.” 

Lando and Daniel both watch as Mark inhales deeply as if Lando’s words were the most aggravating thing he has ever heard. 

“That brings me to my next point. A friend of my old man asked me to hire his son for the summer while they are vacationing here.” Mark explains. Daniel and Lando share a confused look. Mark continues, “The reason why? I have no clue. Something about how he wants his son to learn what the real world is like even though his pocket money is more than what we all make in a year combined.” 

Daniel raises an eyebrow at him, “And you just agreed? Just like that? Who’s going to train him?”

Mark smirks devilishly, “Well that’s where you come in Daniel.” 

“What do you mean ‘that’s where I come in’?”

“Well, you are always complaining that you’ve been here the longest and still haven’t gotten any type of raise or promotion. Well here you go, I’m promoting you to training associate. You are in charge of training the kid and also keeping an eye on him and making sure he doesn’t get into any trouble.” 

Daniel can’t help but feel the heat of anger from earlier rise beneath his skin. “So you expect me to not only train this kid I’ve never even met but also babysit the little brat as well? What the hell do you think I am? A damn babysitter?!” He snaps, crossing his arms and scowling at the older man. 

“I’m nineteen. I don’t need a babysitter.”

All three of the men snap their heads back towards the front door, only to see, who Daniel presumes is the kid Mark was mentioning, standing in the entryway. Daniel blinks as he tries to take in the teen’s appearance. He doesn’t look like any nineteen-year-old Daniel has ever seen. Sure, he has semi-smooth skin, with a blemish here and there, and an overall youthful glow about him but for some reason, something’s off about him. Maybe it’s the way his shoulders are a bit broader than his own or how his jaw is a bit too sharp for Daniel’s liking. Either way, he doesn’t like it.

“Max! I didn’t expect you to be here so soon! Is it 11:30 already?” 

Daniel glances at the clock on the wall. 11:09 am.

The teen trudges over to the front counter where the others are standing and crosses his arms. “My dad said I should show up early just in case you guys were busy or something. But, by the looks of it, you aren’t and are instead talking bad about me behind my back.” Max explains, not bothering to hide the annoyance in his voice. 

Daniel looks over at the teen, studying his face more intently now that he is standing next to him instead of a few feet away at the door. His brow is furrowed. His pale skin is tinted with a shade of pink from the harsh Australian sun. There is a collection of freckles that are scattered across his jawline and up to the middle of his cheek, with a single one lying on his upper lip. He notices now that the teen is just a bit taller than him. Not by much but enough to make Daniel even more wary than he was before. 

Mark shakes his head, “Please forgive my employee, Daniel, here Max. He has had a bit of a rough morning so his mood isn’t the best right now.” 

‘The only reason why I have had a rough morning is because of you jackass.’ Daniel thinks to himself as he shoots a glare at his boss. 

Max rolls his eyes, “Whatever.”

Daniel and Lando exchange glances once again, as if to telepathically ask each other if this is what they are really going to have to deal with for the next two and half months. 

The sound of Mark clearing his throat makes the two of them look up towards their boss. 

“Anyway, as I was saying. My employee, Daniel here, will be in charge of training you and just overall making sure you're settling in here nicely.” Mark explains, clearly trying to skip over the part where Daniel called Max a brat that he has to babysit. 

Daniel shifts his eyes over to the teen next to him. Max doesn’t look impressed. He still has his arms crossed and his lips have formed a tight line of annoyance. Honestly, Daniel can’t blame him. If he was in his shoes, aka if he was a rich kid who probably hasn’t worked a day in his life and his parents suddenly made him get a job at a dingy old surf shop while they were on a  summer vacation, he would be pissed too. 

There is a beat of awkward silence that fills the air between the four. 

“I’m guessing this is the part where I introduce myself?” Lando chuckles awkwardly, drawing the other’s attention to himself. Max stares at him silently, as if he is waiting for the other to say something else that will ultimately aggravate him even more. 

“I’m Lando. I started working here about a year and a half ago. I go to the university just up the street. I usually work in the mornings because I have night classes.” He explains. Max doesn’t say anything, instead, he sighs, uninterested. 

Lando scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, “Uh..When I’m not working or in class you can usually find me in my dorm playing video games.” The mention of video games makes the teen’s ears perk up with interest.

“You play video games?” Max asks in a slightly less annoyed voice than before.

“Yeah! I play all sorts of games like GTA, God of War, and F123. I actually stream my gameplay on Twitch with my friends from time to time. You should join sometime. I bet it would be really fun.” 

Daniel doesn’t know if it’s the heat getting to him or what but he swears he sees the faintest hint of a smile on Max’s face when Lando mentions him joining him in a gaming session. 

“I’ll think about it.” 

Seemingly pleased with the exchange, Mark claps his hands together like a coach trying to round up his team for a debriefing after a game. “Alright, now that introductions are out of the way, Max, how would you like to follow Daniel around for today to get a feel of the environment and how things work around here?” 

Daniel can feel the teen’s eyes on him before he even turns his head. His stare is as cold as ice and Daniel worries that if the teen doesn’t look away, he might burn a hole through his head. 

The universe must have been on his side because just as Daniel thought he would never look away, Max shifts his eyes toward Mark. The stare he gives Mark is just as cold. 

“Whatever.” 

“Perfect. Now let’s get started.”

#f1 fic #max verstappen #daniel ricciardo #maxiel #formula 1 #red bull f1 #mclaren #lando norris

[cinnaminsvga]

zee exclamations anon here!!! thoughts on min yoongi recently? how’s your emotional relationship with the memory of such an icon of your youth? also how do you feel about the little guy lately? as an artist, does he linger still as a muse? as a person, is he a vase of love still? i was just listening to time adventure from the adventure time soundtrack, and this line “will happen, happening, happened, and we will happen, again and again, cause you and i will always be back then” made me think that past is eternal, and love that once were will forever be when it was, so, it made me think of how in young forever they say “as today’s me, i want this moment to be eternal, i want to be young forever” and how yoongi now says “i want to grow up together” and how it seems it’s different but i think is the same. cause you and i will always be back then. we will grow up together, cause we are already together, cause we were together, so we are young forever. i think hope is just a loooot of love. or i think thats what it costs. like in that paramore song 26 “reality will break your heart, survival will not be the hardest part, it’s keeping all your hopes alive, all the rest of you has died, so let it break your heart” i think youth is so hopeful, and its hard to maintain that much hope as you grow up. it’s hard to see things as you once did, or feel em as you did, cause your heart breaks and things happen. so “i want to be young forever” is just so beautiful, cause its aware of how precious all of it is in that unique moment as everything is, and longs to keep it forever that way, and yet, “i want to grow up together” is the most hopeful thing to say. we’ll happen, happening, happened. some things must change to remain the same. it seems unforgiving when a good thing ends, but you and i will always be back then. growing up is an act of hope. love is eternal. the song ends with “you and i will always be best friends”. so how do you feel it zee?

im gonna be honest anon the way i just went slackjawwed when i saw this in my inbox HAHAH love u and ur little song references its like getting a personalized web weave in my inbox so thank u

hnngnghhg ive actually been rewatching some of his suchwita eps because i miss the little guy... it also massively sucks that he isnt gonna be Around for a bit, but cmon i just wanna see his bald ass head... just give me some excitement in my life... yoongi save me

and yea ofc he lingers as a muse to me... he's literally my ideal type HAHAH its kinda hard not to reference him in anything i write. even writing for other fandoms, i cant help but yoongify them somehow... i just love men who love softly but care so deeply. and yeah perhaps i have yoongi on a pedestal inside my brain and yeah maybe the version i have of him in my head isnt quite accurate but like... ITS HARD!!! NOT TO LOVE THE LITTLE GUY!!! AUGHHGDHG HES MY BEST FRIEND but not like /parasocial more like "hes my childhood imaginary friend that held my hand on the first day of school" sorta thing. he's a part of me, whether anyone likes it or not!!! like a parasite but its kinda awesome even though i think he wants to kill me sometimes. we could be like venom or something (idk never watched the movie).

kinda like how every interest ive ever had in my life kinda never leaves,,, it waxes and wanes but like at the end of the day, a lot of the stuff ive grown to love and maybe forgotten still keep a place in my heart. yoongi is my youth, and i choose to live youthfully for a long time. like ive said before, youth and love and all those sorts of things... its a lifestyle. time destroys so many things but those two stand against its claws. IT IS WHAT IT IS!!! BUT BY GOD, LETS HOLD HANDS WHILE WE'RE AT IT!!! anyway love u anon

#i am cringe so i am free or whatever it is they say #also sorry this took so long it literally made me go :0 every time i saw it in my inbox tho LMAOOO #love u anon thanks for always sending these things to me #lets me remember i still exist in someones brain. for whatever reason #kinda crazy that people know me on here. like hi guys im zee. im here. we're here. let's have fun #WAHOOOOOO *yoshi jumps into lava* #Anonymous #answered

[katiekatdragon27]

Do you, uh, do you see my vision?

What if I shipped the two hosts from the most polar opposite shows in the OSC? Nah, not me, that’s so silly, imagine that haha 😳😳🫣🫣

Just for context, Liam and Airy made it back to San Fransisco together and moved into a cheap apartment. Airy is trying to adjust to being in society again. Liam is trying to fix all his legal documents and get back on his feet officially. Texty has sorta been adopted by Liam at this point and is trying to help out the best they can.

Liam has also threatened to dump Airy to the streets if he cannot help Liam pay the rent (it’s super expensive when they come back and Liam is still not really friends with Airy, also Liam is trying to move out of Cali, so he’s been penny pinching).

Popcorn lives off the grid on Earth in this, only making her presence known when she is hosting another reality show. “Popcorn” is also an alias name to run her show since it’s illegal and probably shouldn’t be happening lol. The people he uses for the show are usually people who are super despite and down on their luck, or homeless people who she picks up off the street. Airy was the first one to show genuine interest in the show.

I need to give Popcorn an actual name lol, and idk if Poppy is cutting it for me.

Liam is not exactly thrilled at the idea of Airy having a partner, but she is rich allegedly and is willing to help pay a little of the cost to help them move to the East Coast lol.

Thanks for feeding into my delusions and have a nice day :,)

#they make each other better but others worse <3 #ik if you asked me when i initially watched one if i shipped airy with anyone I would say no nor that he deserved to be happy #but you know what im going insane everyday so whatever honestly #im delusional and cringe but i am free #im so sorry /j #feel free to unfollow now #hfjone #osc shipping #ship art #shipping #airy hfjone #popcorn showvember #showvember #airy #popcorn #liam plecak #liam hfjone #airy x popcorn #popcorn x airy #osc #boyfailure x girlboss #doodles #object show art #fan art #katiekatdragon27 #aircorn #popcairy

[devilsskettle]

i feel like i’ve been WAITING for the other shoe to drop wrt people’s opinions about watcher for this very reason. not that i think the reaction is completely not understandable but the greater the parasocial relationship, the greater the fallout as soon as public opinion shifts. you don’t have a relationship with these people they’re just content creators, chill

#ready to see all the people coming out of the woodwork to say how they’ve never liked watcher/unsolved/etc #and act like it’s ‘cringe’ now that their fanbase feels ‘betrayed’ #it’s great to have a fanbase but parasocial relationships will bite you in the ass every single time #it’s interesting too though because i’ve seen watcher have a LOT of support as they’ve tried to build something separate from buzzfeed #so this is the first time they’re getting real pushback about a decision they’ve made wrt shifting their platform/expanding their brand #so ig we’ll have to see how they react moving forward #but it’s soooo interesting to see how enthusiastically people dump on buzzfeed #AND how many people dump on youtube and how over the years so much of its functionality has been stripped away #how many ads you have to sit through. how much sponsored content there is now. etc #but when they try to do the same thing with youtube that they did with buzzfeed it’s like how dare you not lick their boots #because if you lick their boots and we lick their boots we can watch stuff for free #anyway. #even if you don’t any to say it’s a bad business decision. it’s not like there’s not precedent for it #1) the move away from buzzfeed was successful and 2) what about the dnd shows or whatever #don’t you guys watch those dnd shows that are ‘behind a paywall’ #don’t you guys have netflix hulu disney hbo amazon etc ad nauseum that are actually owned by billion dollar corporations #don’t you guys get on your high horses about supporting independent artists all the time #it’s interesting that people will profess to be such big fans!!! and feel like they’re friends!!!! #but how dare they think their work might be worth paying for #idk. idk. it’s entitlement though #sorry for the rant i’m ALSO not trying to blindly defend a bunch of people i don’t know #but you guys are being soooo fucking annoying about it lol #anyway i’m still waiting to see what their response is going to be from here before jumping to conclusions #also to be fair i am biased to be lenient about decisions made by independent filmmakers vs big studios etc #like everybody freaking out about the ai art used in late night with the devil. who cares honestly #‘they should’ve paid a real artist!!’ idk maybe their budget didn’t cover that #i don’t want it to become the industry norm but at the end of the day i would rather see indie shit getting made then only seeing #the big studios (who don’t have equitable practices anyway!!) making shit #but that’s another conversation. just to be transparent about my viewpoint on this kind of thing #maybe controversial but also can’t we have nuance. for once.

[xivdl]

pup 🐶

#not arguing with a man with big brown sad puppy eyes whatever you say gorgeous #trent alexander arnold #trent #taa #taa66 #liverpool #liverpool fc #lfc #football fanart #my_art #v draws footy #I miss bratty trent ngl #livpool players just got that aura man that's so unfair #hottest club itl 💔 #I'm cringe but I'm free #yes I am aware that he has 4 ears so what

[wrecking]

the eternal struggle of "maybe if i didn't get better then people wouldn't've left and none of the fall out drama of it would've happened" vs "i am just sitting here like sorry for actually becoming a person this summer"

#d #trying to counter this by just focusing inward bc like where else do i put this energy like #i have no leads that give me material to work with on this. so like why am i still frustrated and upset #i try not to think about the things they said about me behind my back because it makes me fear the worst #god only knows what they're saying now. and tbh whatever i'm cringe but i'm free

[perenlop]

what bugs me even more abt my animal literature final being so specific despite having whatever content we want to choose from, is that i do have sources where i could potentially have a case to say something interesting about the distance between humanity and animals, and we HAVE covered that through frank kafka’s work, so in a different class itd be up for grabs, but because we have to focus on a very specific thing instead (what a movie says that is teaching the audience how we should treat animals) i have to throw that out even though its way more interesting to me

#i feel like a dick for not wanting to do an animal rights esque paper but ive already done several is the thing #not in a college level but i did for major projects in high school with the exact same premise #and yeah i can choose something thats not a book specifically written to educate people about animal rights #(which are still good and ive always found them to be heartwrenching) #i can choose something this time thats connected to something i care about. aka pokemon im gonna do pokemon #bc i am CRINGE and i am FREE #but like with pokemon theres a number of things i can talk about because of how its set up #whether it fails to say things or not #and i wanted to do my paper on meowth talking like a human which distances himself from his species #and makes it so that he's often willing to harm his own kind to help the humans make a profit #and he also cant use pay day (aka natural animal instincts) as well #like FUCK man that is interesting to me in the context of what we have read!! abt how we have to respect animals on their level!! #and how forcing human desires on them without wondering if it actually benefits them can be cruel!! #(even if thats not how it happened in the episode but whatever i can stretch it) #but no. that doesnt say enough about how animals should be treated apparently. #and i have to restructure everything and reframe it. and at that point i might just pick a different episode #echoed voice

[moinsbienquekaworu]

There's these girls in my year - and I try not to judge people based on if they put makeup on or whatever because like, judging other women for their hobbies and appearance is shitty and we're trying to be good people here, but by god do I want to punch them. Every time I hear them talk I have to remind myself that even though some people are annoying and make me want to hit them it does not actually matter, but by god, by god.... Shitting on the one good invested professor we have this year ("god do we have her this time? The one who dressed up for class? Cringe"), the way they speak, the fact they keep mentioning fanfiction but they don't mean like, weird little fandom stuff, just shitty copy pasted wattpad straight love triangles with the BTS or whatever... Punchable punchable punchable punchable. These girls were popular in middle and high school. They keep being annoying about fanfic but in The normiest way I have ever seen. They would have talked in my back and if I showed them a Snarry fic they would explode.

#and i know ultimately it's just like harmless and unimportant #but they're so annoying!!! i keep hearing them say useless stupid vapid bullshit!!!! #biting biting biting #fanfiction isn't exclusively your cringe wattpad x readers 😭😭 #and i wish they would stop judging the teacher because she's so nice #she's super nice and always invested and energetic #you can FEEL the motivation when she talks! she loves her subject and she loves teaching! #AND SHE'S GOOD AT IT!!! #like holy shit all the teachers are boring or there because they have to or whatever #appreciate this one gem in a sea of boring classes!!!! #instead of calling her cringe or whatever #like yeah she is a little cringe. so what. be cringe be free have a good time. #it's the judging other people thing. the normie who tries their best to be normal all the time #live a little fucking hell!!!! #where's your passion where's your joy where's your fun where's your sincerity!!!!!!! #anyway. so normal. i am not biting them. #wow i have a ramble tag now

[genderfreakxx]

Can’t believe I’m experiencing my full blown MCR awakening in my mid twenties while going through second puberty because of HRT

I literally had the “your music is too violent and loud” argument with my mom during a family road trip like this shit is comically stereotypical at this point

#girl help I’m living authentically and experiencing the repercussions about ten years late #I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving mcr btw they’re just too important to me at this point #but wow they say queer people are forced to experience true adolescent freedom in their mid to late twenties and they were RIGHT #I was always too afraid of societal rejection to really let myself be free in who I am #I wanted to fit in and have other people like me SO deeply and terribly that I lost myself #and now that I’m finally just doing whatever the hell makes me feel REAL I think it’s coming as a shock to everyone around me #they’ll get used to it. or not. I can’t really be assed to care at this point #I only have one life and I’m gonna do what makes me feel like I actually exist #that being said: no more mcr in front of other people lol #none of my friends or family like them so I’ll just have to keep them as a source of comfort for myself privately #and of course on this blog lmfao I have to let it out somewhere #very strange to be feeling like a misunderstood teenager as a full ass adult #I’d cringe if I wasn’t so exhausted at denying myself things that make me feel alive #sorta cringing anyway tbh! but better alive than dead #blithering on #gender

[findmeabowlofundertale]

Simultaneously aware and embarrassed that I have taken a character so far from the source material that they’re barely recognizable, but also having a great time doing so. And yet I deeply enjoy the actual character. The real one not the made-up version I never shut up about.

#seeker talks #this is about gaster in case that wasn’t obvious #in my own writing Ive just. given up completely in trying to seem believable #I’ve got like. wd blorbo over here #and I am also a canon gaster enjoyer #give me that effed up old man #but also Im doing whatever I want and just want to be clear that I don’t think even a little bit that my version is anywhere NEAR canon #im so embarrassed by him because I enjoy real Gaster so much #I love all of it #I keep reminding myself that I can do whatever i want forever and also this is my blog #and that im cringe but free #but like… cool people follow me I want to look cool #i was going to say ‘‘and not pathetic’’ but. uh. i passed that a long time ago #i may be pathetic but I also desperately want to be cool #but not at the expense of having a fun time making up dumb stuff #it’s a delicate balance #and im failing spectacularly <3

[classicstupid-tom]

that post made me realize im gonna have been on tumblr for 10 years next year,, 

#(。_。) #and im still goin strong babey #i never make text posts anymore because i just bother my partner with whatever dumb shit i have to say but erm oh my god kgjfh #bullshit talking #i think this also marks 10 years of me being into like um. all the things i still am gkjfhgkhj #mainly homestuck...creepypasta and vocaloid gkjfh #god im so cringe im soooo cringe #but i am free

[joszns]

miss you ✭

college!ellie x reader

content: sexting, nudes, first sexting experience, vibrator usage (reader), masturbation, pet names (baby, good girl, babe)

summary: ellie misses you a little too much on a late night and decides to text you…

part 2!!!

ellie bit her lip, laying on her bed. a still-lit joint rested in the ash tray next to her, the drug affecting her greatly as she tried to ignore the growing arousal between her legs. she rolled to her side, grabbing her phone and checking the time.

11:30…

reluctantly, she unlocks her phone and hovers her fingertip over your contact. whatever. it’s not weird of her to text her own girlfriend, regardless of the time.

e: hey, u still awake?

she looks at the message, before leaving her phone on the bed and deciding to finish off the joint.

a ping quickly steals her attention, however.

y/n: i am, why? miss u.

she quickly takes one last hit, bursting out into a coughing fit. ellie grabs her phone, typing a reply.

e: nothing, i just miss u babe. what are you doing?

ellie gets back into bed, eyes glued to her phone.

y/n: thinking ab you, silly

she blushes slightly.

e: aw, what about me??

ellie watches you type, then disappear. ugh, was that cringe?? she rolls onto her back, nervously chewing her nail.

y/n: im thinking about ur kisses…

she feels her heart skip a beat. her thighs reflexively clench against eachother, barely relieving the desperate need for touch between them.

e: my kisses? what about them?

ellie pulls the covers over her, feeling a little exposed in her dimly lit room.

y/n: i miss them. i need them

her breath catches slightly, typing a response quickly.

e: yeah? need them where?

she bites her lip nervously, scared at your response.

y/n: want me to show you?

no fucking way.

ellie blushes furiously, her heart beating rocket speed as she stares at your message.

e: show me baby

she hopes her response comes off as cool and collected. you can’t tell tone in text after all, right?

a minute passes, and she starts to get anxious. what if that was too far?

[Y/N ❤️✂️ sent you a snap!]

ellies eyes go wide. nevermind to that. she opens the notification, getting more and more turned on.

the image was absolutely breathtaking.

you were lying on your back, shirt off, neck exposed. your skin was highlighted perfectly by your bedside lamp, jawline in the corner of the image. she could see you were biting your lip, your fingers lightly placed just above ur collarbone.

right here pls?

the text on the image read. ellie took in a deep breath, her free hand slipping beneath the covers and teasing the hem of her shirt.

e: i wish i could my love

id kiss more than just ur neck

she waits for your response, still looking at the photograph. ellie could picture it, feel you whimpering softly as she marked your neck.

y/n: how about….

[Y/N❤️✂️ sent you a snap!]

ellie quickly opened the picture, dipping her fingers below the waistband of her boxers. she was extremely turned on by you, her thighs clenching again at the picture.

you had angled the camera lower, showing your bare chest as your hands covered your nipples, the text reading:

…here? ;P

fuck, ellie thought, starting to rub her clit over her boxers. she stared at the image for a moment, taking in your beautiful tits and trying her best to remember what was behind those fingers of yours. she remembered how your boobs felt up in her face, growing more aroused at the thought.

e: fuck baby you’re so hot

i miss u

i love ur boobs

she shoved her hand beneath the fabric of her boxers, desperately needing more friction.

y/n: they love u too baby

what are you thinking about?

oh god. she can’t answer that honestly. what do I say…she thought, pausing her movements. herr heart pounded in her chest, she was so close to finishing.

e: everything about u. ur so perfect. i miss the way u taste sm

y/n: yeah, you miss my pussy? ur so cute lol

ellie blushed furiously at your message, tossing her phone to the side momentarily before quickly rolling back over to grab it once again.

e: shut up.

she bit her lip, returning to the photos you had sent. she began touching herself again, thinking about your hand in place of her own.

e: what r u doing rn..?

ellie’s finger hovered over the send button nervously.

y/n: typing witg one hand

she rolled her eyes back, imagining you touching yourself, thinking about her. ellie did the same, getting off to those dirty thoughts.

e: proof?

she pressed send, half joking but half wanting to see. im such a perv…

[Y/N❤️✂️sent you a snap!]

ellie blushed, quickly opening the snapchat notification.

this time, it was a video.

it showed your hand, working away at yourself underneath your underwear. you were moaning softly, letting ellies name slip towards the end.

jesus. she let out a whimper. the video looped, and with each replay she got wetter and wetter.

e: goddamn. i need u so bad y/n

need to be all up in your pretty pussy

ellie opened snapchat, recording a video of her getting off as well. she pictured you, your perfect moans in her ear as she fingered you relentlessly.

“fuck….” she groaned.

anxiously, she sent the video, however she was too lost in her own arousal to put much worry or thought into it.

y/n: omfg ellie

i want u to fuck me so bad, your moans make me go insane baby im so wet

ellie let out a moan, rubbing her clit much more intensely now.

e: r u using that vibrator i know u have?

she could picture you, hair messy and tangled as your back arches, whimpering as the vibrator massaged your clit perfectly.

y/n: howd you know?

[New audio message from Y/N❤️✂️]

ellie excitedly played it, nearly orgasming on the spot as she heard your delicious moans.

you were whimpering her name, the faint hum of your vibrator barely heard over your cries of pleasure.

she felt herself get close, playing the audio over and over again until she was on the brink of cumming.

e: gonna cum….fuck your moans are so hot…i wish i was the one causing them

y/n: i wanna see u cum to the thought of me baby

ellies breath sped up as she began to record her touches, rubbing away at her clit and occasionally dipping her fingers inside for more slick.

“oh fuck…y/n…” she moaned, picturing your perfect tits bouncing in her face as you rode her strap. her hips bucked into her hand as she came, whimpering your name over and over again as well as several curses. she sent the video, replaying the audio you had sent as she rode herself through the orgasm.

geez…i haven’t cum that hard in a while…ellie thought, feeling her clit pulse and twitch beneath her fingers as she regained her breath.

[Y/N❤️✂️ sent you a snap!]

ellie quickly opened the video, still touching herself.

this time, you were the one cumming all over your fingers. it was truly a show, your tits bouncing as you moaned her name, the dual vibrator massaging your clit and filling you up simultaneously. you turned the camera and rested it slightly above your collarbones, giving ellie a full view of your tits and thrusting. you whimpered as you turned up the speed, cumming hard on the silicone toy and moaning ellies name into the mic repeatedly.

she almost came again, her arousal quickly growing at the sight of you.

e: hooly fuuckkk baby. i wish i could be with u in person rn. i wanna put my face all in your perfect pussy.

y/n: come over ?? lol

still horny :(( i miss you pretty girl

that was enough for her to decide.

she got up, reading the time as 12:10. whatever, anything for you.

e: on my way baby

im gonna fuck you so good

ur not gonna be able to walk tmr

y/n: can’t wait <3

a/n :3 this is my first ever fic…if u have any suggestions or constructive critics let me know lol i hope u enjoyed!!!

edit: THANK U SM FOR ALL THE LOVE😭😭❤️working hard on another one!!!

#ellie williams smut #ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie x you #tlou2 #ellie williams fanfic

[todayisawthewhxlewxrld]

I WANT A HEART TATTOO!

I'LL NEVER GET IT REMOVED!

synopsis// suguru gives you your first tattoo.

➚ pairing// tattoo artist!suguru geto x gn!reader

➚ word count// 2k

contents// friends to lovers, tattooed and pierced geto, reader is a chicken, mentions of drinking, maybe like the ittiest bittiest type of suggestive toward the end...? slightly teasing/cocky geto?

notes// this is kinda cringe but i am cringe and free. also this was inspired by heart tattoo by joyce manor (dont play with me rn.) hoping this will help hold yall off till i can finish the smau...

Geto meticulously cleans up his tattoo station, occasionally stopping to take a swig of the beer you so kindly brought him. 

“You’re quiet.” 

You hum as you take a sip of your own beer. 

He stops and turns around to face you, his eyebrow raised. “Why?” 

“I like watching you clean.” 

Geto laughs. Not just a small one either, but the kind that makes his nose crinkle and his cheeks bunch to the point his eyes are forced closed. You ignore the butterflies in your stomach, blaming it on the alcohol (even if this is only your first beer and definitely not enough to have any sort of effect on you, but you digress). 

“What’s so interesting about watching me clean anyway?” 

You huff, ignoring the increasing heat on your face. “I don’t know... Just shut up and finish cleaning, Suguru. I wanna leave.” 

He smiles and turns back around, continuing to clean. “I told you you could go home.” 

“And leave you to fend for yourself?”

“I’m a grown man.” 

“Whatever… Besides, I can’t drink all these beers by myself.” 

Geto doesn’t say anything, but his shoulders shake slightly with a small, silent laugh, and you can’t help but smile to yourself. You love his little quirks. You always have.

maybe a little too much.

Meanwhile, he picks up his tattoo machine and stares at it. There’s nothing particularly interesting about it; it’s just plain black, freshly wrapped in some black medical tape. 

“Hey Y/N?” 

“Something wrong?” 

He shakes his head and turns to face you again, tattoo machine still in hand. “You still don’t have any tattoos, huh?” 

“Um, no,” you respond sheepishly. “I’m not like scared or anything-“ 

“I wasn’t gonna say that.” 

“Oh. then what were you gonna say?” 

“Can I give you a tattoo?” 

You blink at him. It’s not like you don’t trust him. You trust Geto with your life. You trust him more than anyone or anything in the world. Shit, you might trust him even more than you trust yourself. It’s just…

Geto impatiently groans at your lack of answer. “Oh, cmon, you literally promised me when we were younger that you would let me tattoo you!” 

“That was when we were like twelve!” you scoff, in disbelief he’d throw something as old as that in your face… Maybe he’s been hanging around Gojo too much. 

“Give me one good reason why you won’t let me tattoo you.” 

You frown as you look away, and right away you can hear his footsteps as he places himself in your line of vision again. raising his eyebrows as if to ask, “well?” 

You mumble something under your breath that he doesn’t quite catch. “Y/N, you know I can’t hear you when you do that.” 

“I actually am scared!” you finally say loud enough for him to hear, and it comes out more like a single word than a full sentence.

Geto can't help but giggle, quickly slapping his hand over his mouth, but not even that helps.

“Suguru, this isn't funny; I'm being vulnerable here!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he says through stifled laughter before finally calming down enough to clear his throat. “You're right, it isn’t funny,“ he pauses for a moment. ”Wanna know something?”

“What?”

“Getting tattooed scares me too.”

“Liar,” you scoff. “You're covered in them.”

Geto shrugs. “Doesn’t mean it’s not unnerving each time.”

“I just don’t want it to hurt,” you explain with a slight pout.

“It’s a needle going in and out of your skin, Y/N.”

“Exactly!”

“Fine,” Suguru says with a sigh, and you think that's it; he's done, but not even a few seconds later does he speak up again: “What if I said I'll be gentle?”

“Haha.” Your brain immediately short circuits, and the butterflies in your stomach are something you can't blame on the alcohol this time. “Huh.”

Geto laughs softly. “With your tattoo?”

You nod blankly, your brain still not working properly and not yet actually computing what he’s still asking you.

“Yes?” he confirms excitedly.

“Yeah…” Finally, it hits you. “Wait, no! I mean, no. and not to mention you’ve been drinking?”

“Like two sips, Y/N,” he says with a slight pout and roll of his eyes. “You know better than anyone; it takes a lot more than that to get me drunk.”

“Okay, well, what about me? Isn't it bad to get tattoed when you’ve been drinking?”

“Oh my god, just say yes or no. You know I won’t be mad if you decide not to.”

You stare deep into Geto’s eyes, and he’s not lying; he won't be mad. disappointed, sure, but not mad. never mad, never when it comes to you. And right then and there, your conviction crumbles into a million tiny pieces, just dust in the wind.

“…fine”

“fine?”

“You can tattoo me. But!" you exclaim, pointing a finger at him as if lecturing him, “it has to be small! and somewhere where it doesn’t hurt.”

“Okay, I can't guarantee that last part, and you know that,” he says blankly.

You sigh in defeat. “Yeah, I know.”

Geto smiles at you softly and coos, “But I will try,” as he gently caresses your cheek before breaking away and turning around to pull back out the stuff he needs.

You stand there wide-eyed, and your jaw dropped. Geto is affectionate, sure, but he’s never been that affectionate. He couldn’t feel the same way, could he? You shake your head, denying that thought, even despite how hot you feel.

He just did that to comfort you.

That’s all.

He was just trying to be reassuring.

That's it.

At least that's what your brain is trying to say, but your heart is saying another with the way it violently beats against your rib cage.

The minute he turns around, you compose yourself, shutting your mouth and hoping to god he doesn’t notice your chest heaving almost uncontrollably.

Geto pats his tattoo chair. “Sit.”

You hesitate, standing there like a deer in headlights.

Geto clicks his tongue dramatically before grabbing your hand and leading you to his chair, mumbling a reassuring, “Trust me.”

You frown, placidly letting him drag you around like a rag doll. “I do trust you.”

“Then sit.”

And when he says it like that, how can you say no? When he’s staring at you so intently that it’s almost as if he can see right through you, how do you say no? You cant. So you don't. The only thing you can do is—petulantly—plop down into his tattoo chair.

“Sit right and lay your arm on the armrest.”

“No, do it like this.” By ‘this’ you mean with you hunched over and your arm resting on your leg rather than the armrest like Geto is telling you to.

He sighs deeply. "Y/N, your arm resting on your leg is not stable enough. like at all.”

“Do it like this or not at all.”

“Fine.” He raises an eyebrow at you in mild disapproval and says, "But if it comes out bad, it’s not my fault.”

You roll your eyes, unamused. Geto would never let anything he puts on your body come out even remotely bad. “Whatever.”

“Why like this anyway?”

“Because it’s comfortable..?”

Not really.

Like at all.

Actually, this is extremely uncomfortable, and you're sure your back will hate you later, but this gives you the best view of Geto, and that's all you care about.

“Okay, fine,” he says, not bothering to put up much more of a fight before getting in position. “Ready?”

“Yeah…” Not even a second later, you blurt out, “Wait!”

Geto’s head shoots up, his concerned eyes scanning your face intently. “What? What is it?”

You don't say a word; instead, you grab onto his shoulder with your free hand, prepared to claw into it if and when need be.

“Is that why you’re sitting like this?” He asks, a smug smile creeping onto his face as it finally hits him. “You just wanted to hold onto me?”

You nod sheepishly.

Geto smiles. “Are you ready now, then?”

You nod again.

but that's not good enough for him. He wants a real reply. “For real this time?”

“For real this time.”

Geto doesn't miss a beat, and you close your eyes as your face scrunches up in anticipation, your nails already sinking into his shoulder. But the minute the tattoo machine actually meets your skin, you peek one eye open because all you really feel is some vibration and the tiniest of scratches. It doesn’t hurt that bad at all, actually; it’s more than tolerable, and with that, your hand relaxes against his shoulder, still resting on it but no longer gripping him like he’s the only thing tying you to this earth.

It’s not long after that the feeling fades into the background of your mind, like a blur. Being tattooed isn’t even a thought in your brain at all right now. Geto could be tattooing a dick on your arm right now, and you wouldn’t even know because the only thing you can focus on is him.

The only thing you can ever focus on is him, if you’re being honest.

But right now, something is different. Seeing him in his element makes your knees go weak, and you’re grateful for the fact that you’re sitting. and suddenly you don’t know why you’ve never let him tattoo you sooner. You’d let him tattoo you a thousand more times if it meant you got to see him like this. He somehow makes the way he focuses look like art—from the way his brows are knitted together in concentration to the way he absentmindedly bites and fiddles with his lip piercings—it’s all art; he makes it look too beautiful. like he’s more modeling and pretending to focus than actually doing it. You involuntarily let out a deep, longing sigh, your eyes fluttering close in the process.

Geto’s gaze flits up to your face. “You're not about to pass out on me, right?”

You open your eyes and meet his gaze with a small, content smile on your face. “No, I'm fine, Suguru.”

“I mean, if you were, that would be fine too, because I'm done,” he replies, turning off his tattoo machine and moving away from you.

“Already?!” you ask, slightly shocked. It didn't feel like it had been that long.

“Yeah,” he says plainly as he stands up and starts quickly cleaning up his workstation once more. "Don't know what you were so scared of, dork.”

You open your mouth, ready to say something sarcastic or explain yourself, but before the words can even leave your mouth, before you can even think of them, Geto is turning back around to face you and cupping your chin in between his index finger and thumb.

Geto leans down at the same time he tilts your head up and places a chaste kiss on the corner of your (still open) mouth, cooing, “You took it so well.”

All you can do is laugh nervously. “What?” You're still giggling; you don't think you could do much else at this point. “What was that- Why did you just-“

Geto starts laughing along with you, except it’s not a defense mechanism for him; he’s just finding this all too amusing. “You didn't think I gave you a heart for no reason, did you?”

You quickly look down at your arm, the action ripping your chin out of Geto’s hold. “You gave me a heart,” you say absentmindedly, and it sounds more like a question than an actual statement.

“Are you just now noticing?” he asks, returning his hand to your chin and gently guiding you to look up at him again. “I thought you were watching the whole time.”

You swallow sharply, becoming acutely aware of how close his face is to yours again. “I was watching something the whole time, but it was not the actual tattoo.”

“Oh? and what was so much more interesting?”

“Mind your business-“

Geto barely even lets you finish your snarky remark before leaning in and kissing you again. except this time for real. except this time you kiss back.

and suddenly tattoos don’t seem so bad anymore, so long as they all end like this.

©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD

#jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x gender neutral reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #bimbo's one shots #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #bimbo’s one shots; jjk #jjk oneshot #jujutsu kaisen one shot #jjk x gender neutral reader #geto x reader #getou x reader #geto fluff #getou fluff #suguru geto #jjk suguru #jjk suguru geto #jujutsu kaisen suguru #jjk geto #jjk getou #jujutsu kaisen geto #jujutsu kaisen getou #geto suguru #getou suguru #geto suguru x reader #getou suguru x reader

[thebearer]

follow me |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: the bear needs a social media rebrand. sydney hired you, and carmen gets more than just followers after meeting you.

an: bad descript i'm sorry lol. basically you're a social media manager and carmen likes you lol or how you and carmen meet <3 also thinking this will be a part 1???? lmk if you want a part 2!!!

contains: reader is a social media manager. language. carmen denying himself happiness ofc. mentions of mikey. fluff, fluff, fluff!!!

“What the hell is this?” Sydney’s voice raised, brow raised even higher to heighten her suspicions. Maybe her disgust. 

After Carmen looked at the snarl on her face, he decided it was definitely disgust. 

“What?” Carmen shrugged, looking at the screen in front of him. “It’s the, uh, The Beef’s old Instagram.” 

“Right.” Sydney said slowly, blinking at Carmen obviously. “The Beef, and we are not that anymore. We are The Bear.” She scrolled for a moment. “They also haven’t posted since twenty-twenty, which is-” 

“-Well, Mikey ran it, alright?” Carmen huffed, glaring at Sydney with annoyance. “I just found the fuckin’ password on a fucking gum wrapper in a folder labeled ‘important shit’ so I don’t know what to tell you.” 

Sydney nodded slowly, looking back at the phone, before sighing deeply. “I know what you should do.” She said, typing on her phone. Carmen grunted, still looking at the piles of order forms for produce in front of him. “You need a social media manager, because Carm, this? It's not gonna work.” 

“Social media what?” Carmen’s brows creased, shaking his head. “I don’t- no, I don’t need to do that. I’ll just, I’ll get Gary or fuckin’ Sweeps or Fak to run-”

“No, no, Carmen, seriously? Look at this. There’s- oh my God- there’s a thing here that says bring your own plate and you’ll get a free drink, Carmen… What the fuck?” Sydney sighed, shaking her head at him. 

Carmen nodded, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I-I’m thinking that was a, uh, a Mikey special.” He muttered, pinching his eyes shut. “I can’t afford to hire someone on the payroll for that long, ok? Not when I could hire another hostess or-or a runner.” 

“They only come in to revamp and get it started. Just a little kick start for now. To get us started.” Sydney explained, clicking on her screen. “Look, I have a mutual friend with this girl who’s really fuckin’ good, ok? She did Lobo’s that pizza place? Got them from two hundred to eighteen thousand followers in like two or three months.” 

Carmen’s eyes flashed, looking at Sydney with a raised brow. “Seriously? Fuck…” Carmen looked at the screen, the crisp photos, videos, fun and trendy- vibrant and alluring. He hated to admit it, but it was good. 

“Look, Carm, it’s free advertising, ok? You catch the influencers if it goes viral. Could really put this place out there.” Sydney countered. “It’d be a lot cheaper than paying for some shitty advertisement on the news that no one watches anyways. Could bring in a lot of business and attention.” 

Carmen’s fingers drummed against the counter, sighing sharply. “Fine, whatever, see if you can get her in and just… Just tell me how much I need to put aside, alright? I’ll push the new glasses until then.” 

Sydney smiled triumphantly, nodding at Carmen. “Yes, Chef.” She saluted, walking out of the office. 

Three days later, you were standing outside of The Bear, newly opened, freshly renovated, and steady but not booming. “Uh, excuse me?” You waved through the window at the man in the beanie, looking at you carefully. 

“Hey, we’re closed until dinner, alright? But you can-” 

“Oh, no. I, uh, I’m not here for eating.” You cringed, shaking your head. “I’m looking for Sydney? Or Carmen? I’m the new social media person?” 

“Social media?” The man repeated, pushing the door open further. “Oh, shit! You’re the girl who does the, uh, Lobo and Avec!” 

“Yeah, I am.” You blushed, walking into the restaurant. 

“I love watching those reels of the asmr cutting the bread. Ugh, I watch it every night before going to bed.” The guy laughed, locking the door behind you. “Oh, I’m Marcus by the way.” 

You took his extended hand, introducing yourself, while you took in the fixtures on the wall, the art, the overall ambiance. “I am going to get Carmen, but you can stay right here if you want.” Marcus grinned, pushing the sliding doors open. 

You set your things down, pulling out your notebook, and looking around the restaurant. You knew that this was once The Beef, Sydney had sent you a few things about Carmen’s credentials and you looked up the rest. Impressed was an understatement, a guy your age that had ran the best restaurant in the world? Quite possibly was the best chef in the world or at least Chicago and needed your help? You were nervous, to say the least. 

Marcus called your name, making you jump slightly as you turned around. “Uh, so this is Carmen. He’s the owner, the head chef.” 

“Hi,” You were met with piercing blue eyes, hidden under a stray blonde lock of hair. Carmen’s hand reached for yours. “Nice to meet you. Sydney, uh, she couldn’t stop tellin’ me about your work. Thank you for helpin’ us out.” 

“No, no, thank you.” You reached for his hand, strong, a little rough, trying not to stare at his inked fingers. “It’s a pleasure to work with you. She told me a little about you, about the restaurant. It’s very impressive. Surprised you needed me.” You grinned. 

Carmen bit back a smile, looking down to hide his blush. Fuck, Sydney said you were good at your job, she failed to mention that you were so fuckin’ pretty too. Carmen could feel his heart fluttering in his chest, taking flight like he was a middle schooler again with a school yard crush. 

“So, if you have time, I want to go over some goals with you?” You say, gripping your notebook tightly. 

“Goals. Right, uh,” Carmen looked through the back doors. “Sydney is on her break, and-and my sister, Sugar- well, her name is Natalie, she’s like our manager. Richie too, uh, shit- I’m sorry that’s a lot of people, I know.” Carmen shook his head, an anxious laugh pealing out from his lips. “Those are the people you need to talk to, basically. I can grab them, just-” 

“-But you’re the owner, right?” You asked, lifting a brow gently. 

“No, I mean, yeah, I am.” Carmen stuttered. 

“Then I need to talk to you, too.” You gave him a small smile. “I mean, you know this place better than anyone, right? All the ins and outs? And from what Sydney told me, you redid this entire place. Right?” 

“Yeah, I did.” Carmen nodded. Fuck, he kept staring at your lips, he didn’t mean to, he was just… he was distracted. 

“So, we can all meet if you want, or I can do it one at a time.” You pulled your pen out of your notebook, looking at him with a gentle smile. It had Carmen’s heart racing. “I just have a few questions about the vision.” 

“The vision?” Carmen repeated, swallowing around the growing lump in his throat. 

“Yeah, the vision.” You smiled. “Just… tell me about this place. Tell me about you.” You slid into the chair across from him. 

Carmen wiped his hands on his pants, turning to look at the doors, hoping someone would come to his rescue. He wasn’t good at talking, especially not to pretty girls, especially about himself. Still, he couldn’t leave you sitting there. He’d hired you after all, and you were here to help him. So he sat down across from you, hoping you didn’t see the way his knee bounced under the table, hoping you couldn’t hear how his heart pounded. 

“So, Carmen Berzatto,” You grinned, every syllable of his name rolling off your tongue so sweetly, Carmen was sure he was going to faint. “Tell me about The Bear. Why did you start it?”

“Well, it was The Beef before. And-And my parents owned it, then my brother Mikey did…” Carmen started, watching the way you scribbled, eyes flickering to him with a small smile.

“Hello!” You called, pushing through the back door. They’d given you the code a week ago, so you didn’t have to wait or pound on the front door until someone took mercy and let you in. “It’s content day!” You sang, cheery and bright. 

Carmen could hear the pretty trill of your voice, trickling down the hall and into the kitchen. Tina smirked, watching the way he stopped, turning to look at you, blush rising under his white shirt. “Hey, Jeff,” Tina smirked, his head snapping to her. “Your girl’s here.” 

The staff had been teasing Carmen relentlessly about how smitten he was with you. Something he’d been so reluctant to do, he now looked forward to. Carmen swore it was because of your work. You had taken them from the measly six hundred followers they’d had since they started the account in twenty-eleven to six thousand, strategic posts and tags and tagging a few buzz accounts that were Chicago foodies. Business had gone up, reservations filling slowly. Followers poured in from TikTok, from the reels, from the posts. One tag from a micro Chicago influencer had brought in a good chunk and was still, all because of a photo with the pretty light features and the dessert. 

“Where’s the Bear?” You grinned, passing Sydney, camera in hand, bag slung over your shoulder. You pushed open Carmen’s office, dropping your bag in there. He’d told you that you could keep your things in there, since you didn’t have a locker, of course- and not at all because that meant he’d see you before you left. 

“He’s in here, baby!” Tina called, smirking at Carmen. 

“C’mon,” Carmen shook his head, a deep breath to keep him from looking so flushed. It worked for a moment, of course, until you rounded the corner. All bright smiles and fuck, you smelled so good. Camren wanted to drown himself in your perfume. “Good morning, Bear.” You beamed. 

Carmen grinned, cheeks heating with every step you took forward. “Mornin’.” He muttered, looking at the clock. 

“It’s content day.” You grinned, shaking your camera lightly. “Tell me you got something good for me, Chef. What's the special this week?” 

“A lamb tenderloin with a gorgonzola sauce served over pasta- house made, of course.” Carmen answered. 

“Of course.” You repeated with a tiny grin. You turned on your camera, taking a test shot, before you looked at Carmen carefully. “Ready whenever you are, Chef.” 

Carmen bit back his own grin, clearing his throat lightly. “How do I start it? The same as last time?” 

“Yep.” You nodded, pressing the camera to your eyes. “Tell me your name, name of the restaurant, and then just this week's special.” 

“On your mark.” Carmen nodded, picking up his clean utensil. 

“On yours.” You laughed. “I’m already recording.” 

Carmen spoke to the camera easily, trying to stay trained on the lens and not at you. How you’d grin and nod encouragingly at him, zooming in closer as he chopped, seasoned, pulled the already prepared and finished product out of the oven. 

Richie crossed his arms, leaning against the wall next to Sugar, lips pursed knowingly. “I know you’re thinkin’ the same shit as me.” 

Sugar hummed. “That Carmen’s into her?” 

“Way fuckin’ into her.” Richie grinned, watching as Carmen blushed, grinning back at you, genuine and a little shy at your compliment. 

“Fifty bucks says he doesn’t make a move.” Sugar looked at Richie. 

Richie snorted, scoffing with a shake of his head. “Alright. I’ll take your bet. I say he does.” 

“Get ready to be out of fifty dollars, Cousin.” Sugar said smugly. “This is Carmy we’re talking about. Not Mikey. Carmen’s not gonna make a move on her.” 

“Eh, not so quick, my dear, Natalie. Carmen’s changed a little since this place.” Since the horrendous freezer incident with Claire. “He really likes her too, look at ‘em.” Richie nodded, watching as Carmen held the spoon out for you, blushing when your hand touched his to take it, groaning before smothering him in compliments. Tina looked at Richie, amused and grinning from across the room. 

“Carmen will seal the deal. It’ll be last fuckin’ minute and it will be a mess, because it’s fuckin’ Carmen, but… I believe in him.” Richie nodded. 

Natalie snorted. “I genuinely hope you’re right, Cousin.” She looked at Carmen with a small smile, watching the way he looked at you, eyes cutting like he was being so cool about keeping his feelings underwraps. “I really do.” 

That night, Carmen lied in bed, scrolling through his footage from the day, seeing the video pop up from @/thebearchicago. Set to classical music, snobby and dramatic, the cuts, Carmen’s voice laid over describing the meal for the week, and a particularly good close up of his hands cutting the onions fiercely. Carmen was shocked to see the number of likes… the number of comments flooding in. 

“the cameraman knew exactly what they were doing lmao”

“New necklace available!!!” 

“I will give you my vital organs and let you chop them up like that if you let me watch chef please” 

“What the fuck?” Carmen snorted lightly, shaking his head, scrolling through the comments. He clicked to the main page of the restaurant, seeing you were just a few away from ten thousand followers. Fuck… Sydney was fucking right. You were good. 

Carmen’s face fell, mind racing and screaming with the reminder that you were only there for a few more days. He’d only hired your for two months- two glorious fucking months. You seemed… permanent now. Like he couldn’t imagine you not coming in on Tuesdays and Thursdays and after three on Fridays. You were a staple there. The staff loved you, you were good, and-

And Carmen really liked you. Liked having you around. Looked forward to talking to you. To get the chance to lean over your shoulder as an excuse to touch you when you showed him a preview of a post. Or when you’d send him cute text messages, a funny comment attached, your text reading: “you’re a hit, bear! they love you!” 

It was like you could read his mind, your contact flashing across the screen at him. 

To: Carmen 

‘told you this would be a good one! the fans love you berzatto!!!’ 

Carmen grinned, the faint twinge of a blush on his face. He could feel his heart racing, fingers dancing over the keyboard, and worst of all- he could hear Mikey’s fucking voice in the back of his head. A nagging tone repeating over and over and over, “Let it rip, Bear! Don’t be such a pussy! Ask her out!” 

Carmen looked at his screen, fingers typing out the message, a short, less than smooth invite to make you a special thank you dinner and his place- a date. He hoped you picked up on it. Heat hammering in his chest, he could feel his chest tighten, ribs knitting together uncomfortably, stomach twisting in the worst way. 

So, Carmen did what he always did. 

From: Carmen 

‘Never doubted you. Thank you. The video was great.’ 

He watched as the blue sent, the delivered turning into seen, and followed by your thumbs up over the text. Carmen put his phone on the table, lying back on his pillow, but he couldn’t sleep. His stomach still turned, unsettled with regret. 

“Oh! Marcus stop!” You gasped, Carmen’s head turning at the sound of your voice. “You didn’t need to do all of this!” 

“Yeah, I did.” Marcus beamed. Carmen turned the corner, seeing a beautifully piped cake there, candles and icing cursive that read “thank you!” in the middle of the buttercream. “You’re cool and you got us on the map, girl. Plus, we’re gonna miss you.” 

“Yeah,” Sydney nodded, holding a small balloon that said that exact phrase on it. “We will miss you.” 

“I’ll miss you guys.” You grinned, hugging them both tightly. “This has been my favorite job so far. You guys have been so nice. Way nicer than a lot of these assholes around here.” You grinned. 

Richie stood on the wall, foot tapping, eyes darting back from you to Carmen. He could see his cousin’s stuttering movements, hesitant and careful, before retreating back into himself. C’mon, Carm, fuckin’ do it, Richie thought, shaking his head. Carmen wouldn’t though, wouldn’t let himself be happy. Richie took a deep breath, head shaking with annoyance. 

“Goddammit, Berzatto,” Richie muttered, pushing off the wall. “You know, sweetheart, it’s been so great having you. Seriously, you blew us all away.” Richie said, walking towards you. 

You smiled. “Thanks, Richie. I really appreciate it.” 

“And you know what, we want to really show how much we appreciate you.” Richie’s eyes cut to Natalie, a silent plea to help him out. “I had a cancellation for this evening, and I would love for you to come instead. Let us really cook for you, give you the whole experience. No bill, of course. All on the house, for you, my dear.” 

“Oh, I-I couldn’t let you guys do that.” You shook your head politely, eyes cutting to Carmen’s. 

“No-No, please.” Carmen nodded, finally speaking. Richie sighed silently in relief. “It would be great actually. Please?” 

You felt your heart melt, nodding softly. Before you could even reply, Richie was stepping up again. “And you know what? You gotta do one last post for us, right? The big chef spotlight one. The, uh, c’mon, Sydney what am I lookin’ for here?” 

“Oh, the one about the staff spotlights?” Sydney asked. 

“That’s the one. See, that’s it. And you’ve done everyone except the big boss.” Richie pointed at Carmen, ignoring the way the younger man’s face fell. 

“I didn’t get one-” Fak started, Richie shoving him out of the way. 

“You gotta end with Carmy, and it's funny because it’s gonna be real slow tonight anyways. Wednesday, ya know? And I think what better way to experience the night, really craft that staff spotlight thing, than with Carmen. The two of you, have dinner and get to talk.” Richie knew it was rocky, not at all smooth, but it was the best he could do. 

“What? Cousin, what are you-” 

“-No, you’re right, Richie.” Sugar added, stepping towards Carmen, and cutting him off. “And Carm, you were saying you wanted to see everything in action for yourself. You do the customer experience so you make sure everything’s good, and we’ll serve you both dinner. All the stops.” 

“How’s that sound?” Richie clapped his hands together, nodding at Tina, who grinned. 

“Jeff, it would be really nice to make sure we can work without your instructions. A good night for it too.” Tina added. 

“Yeah, and Sydney’s got it.” Richie nudged the girl beside him. 

“Totally, Carm- uh, Chef. I’ve got it.” Sydney nodded, catching on to Richie’s glare at her. 

Carmen felt like he could melt into the floor, face red and palms sweaty. His ears were ringing, tongue swelled thick in his mouth. You looked over at him with a small smile. “I mean, that does sound really nice. If-If it’s ok with you guys, you don’t have to-” 

“-Oh no,” Richie shook his head, walking over to Carmen to clap him on the shoulders. “We insist, don’t we, cousin?” Richie laughed, leaning down to Carmen. “Don’t fuckin’ stand there like a jagoff, say somethin’.” He whispered. 

“Yeah.” Carmen said, swallowing thickly around the lump in his throat. “It’s, uh, yeah. That-That sounds great.” 

“Wonderful.” Richie beamed. “Six o’clock sounds good for you kids? Give you enough time to get it together.” Richie looked from you to Carmen. “Maybe for some of us to take a shower.” 

Carmen could feel the heat rise from his neck to his cheeks, covering him in a furious blush. You giggled. “Definitely gives me time to get a blow out.” You laugh. “See you at six then?” 

“It’s a date.” Natalie added, practically bouncing on her toes behind Carmen. 

Carmen glared at her, before turning back to you. “Yeah, I-I’ll see you then.” 

#thebearer #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto x fem!reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x you #carmy x reader #carmy the bear #carmy smut #richie jerimovich #sugar berzatto #natalie berzatto #sydney amadu #the bear season 2 #the bear #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto fluff #the bear fx #carmen berzatto x reader fluff #the bear hulu #mikey berzatto

[homunculus-argument]

It's actually kind of funny how much brain space you can free just by adopting the principle of "if it's not hurting anybody, it's probably fine". If you don't know whether you should or should not do something, pause and try to figure out who's going to get hurt if you do that. If you struggle trying to come up with any imaginary hypothetical person who would be harmed by whatever you're doing, you're probably not going to benefit from listening to that doubting voice telling you that you're not allowed to do that.

Once I learned how to make friends and started finding people who actually liked me and supported me, my family started warning me about surrounding myself in toxic echo chambers that uncritically affirm and validate whatever I'm telling them, and believing whatever they say. Of course the people who have only heard my side of the story would believe whatever I'm telling them and side with me, they haven't heard their side of what happened. That it's unfair of me to poison people against them by telling people how they make me feel, when they aren't there to argue in their own defense. That family needs to be there to tell you the hard things about yourself and criticise the things you're doing, because strangers don't love you enough to tell you to stop doing ugly and cringe things, and correct you when you're being embarrassing.

That losing yourself into uncritical echo chambers of blind support and affirmation, without being held back by the leash of the critical eye of your family is bad because.... Yes, why? Who is being harmed if I do so? Am I being harmed by being surrounded by people who are utterly delusional in their opinion that I am fun and likeable? Who don't tell me when I am acting sickeningly wrong because they don't have the decency to smack me for doing that? Who never make me cry by telling me about every single thing that I am always doing wrong?

Who is harmed by my happiness? Why is it wrong to surround myself with people who are utterly delusional in their belief that I'm not a bad person? Why not entirely lose my grasp of reality as my family sees it, and believe them?

[tasteleeknow-remade]

— koala

pairing: chan x fem!reader genre: smut, fluff, roommates to lovers, soft!dom chan. content: 18+ minors dni. warnings below cut. word count: 4.3k

summary: your roommate is a very physically affectionate person, you're not. after brushing him off over and over it takes him going on a successful date for you to realise maybe the thought of him touching someone else like he did you was worse than anything. clashing love languages, jealousy and mutual pining.

a/n: i hit 500 followers a few days ago so i just wanted to say how grateful i am for the support! i created this sideblog to share a spur of the moment attempt at writing [prompted by the taste performance] and i didn't expect so much positivity. i definitely wouldn't have given it another go and kept writing more otherwise so thank you so much for letting me know you liked it! hope you like this too!

afab!reader. protected intercourse. jealousy. mutual pining. pet names. chan is very physically affectionate, that's the entire premise of this one, they are friends and its playful but reader is awkward about it! he's grabby and he lies on top of her etc.

You hadn’t grown up in the most affectionate family, your parents loved you—you knew that—but you could count the number of hugs you’d received from them on your fingers. You guessed it was for this reason you couldn’t help cringing away from your clingy roommate. Either he had a very different upbringing or he’d just been unaffected by it because he was probably the most physically affectionate person you’d come across in your life. He’d approach you from behind with no warning when you were brushing your teeth, doing the dishes, cooking, whatever it was. His arms would wrap around you, breath tickling your neck as he asked what you were doing, how your day was or announce he was bored. It was never anything important and definitely nothing that needed to be mumbled into your neck. You’d freeze whatever you were doing, waiting for him to let you go. “I’m obviously doing the dishes,” you’d answer prompting him to give a final squeeze before freeing you—wandering away as you recovered. Recently he’d taken to waking you up in the morning by stumbling into your room and collapsing on top of you, the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress. If you were lucky enough to be in a position where he hadn’t pinned your arms under him you’d attempt to shove him off you, often a completely hopeless endeavour. He’d free you when he was ready. 

This is where you found yourself now; trapped under him—his face buried in your neck. “I can’t breathe,” you groaned, arms pinned under the covers. One of the unlucky mornings.

“You’re so comfy though, much more than my bed,” his mumbling was barely audible, his voice gruff. It sounded like he’d just woken up and stumbled in here before he’d even fully opened his eyes. You needed a lock on your door. You didn’t know why you hadn’t done that yet. Everytime you found yourself under him like this it seemed like your number one priority in life but then he’d climb off and you’d go about your day, letting the idea slip from your mind every time. 

“Off. Or I’ll scream,” you announced. Often the only way was to yell in his ear. You didn’t particularly like starting your morning with a high pitched scream so you’d use it as a last resort, just the threat was usually enough—thankfully. He rolled off you with a groan. 

“Why are you so mean to me?” 

“Mean to you? You just marched in here and crushed me while I was having the best dream.”

“About?”

“Moving out.” 

“See? Mean.” He rolled onto his side and grinned at you. “Luckily I know it’s all talk, you’d never leave me—you looovee me.” 

“Get out,” you muttered half-heartedly, closing your eyes again. You liked his company. A lot. Despite his clinginess.

You felt the bed move as he sat up. He was silent for a moment before speaking, “I need your help.” You waited for him to elaborate, keeping your eyes closed—still sleepy. “You know more about clothes than me and I’m always wearing the same things so…” He pressed his finger into the middle of your forehead. “Hey, are you listening?” 

You sighed and stretched your arms above your head, accepting you weren’t getting back to sleep. You propped yourself up on your elbows before speaking, “I was listening.” 

“Outfit. I need you to help me pick out an outfit.” 

You rubbed your eyes. “For what?” Your roommate couldn’t care less about clothes, everything he wore was black and he’d often walk around the place with hardly anything on at all. If you hadn’t seen his closet yourself you’d easily believe he owned two outfits total. 

“A date,” he muttered, eyes fixed on where he was fiddling with the embroidery on your blanket. A date… he didn’t go on dates. Your mutual friends always teased him about his total lack of dating life. You’d been on two entire dates in the last six months and he made you seem like a total socialite. His hand waved in front of your face after you’d apparently failed to respond in an appropriate window of time. 

“You’re going on a date?” 

“I am capable of finding someone, believe it or not,” he huffed, looking a little wounded. 

“I just…didn’t think you were…looking.” 

“I wasn’t really…I guess. She just asked me out when I was getting coffee yesterday morning.”

“And you said yes?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

You threw your blankets off and climbed out of bed—stumbling to your ensuite bathroom to brush your teeth. He was right. He had no reason not to go on a date. You squirted too much toothpaste on your brush and shoved it under the tap. He’d probably said yes because she was pretty, a pretty girl had spotted him in the coffee shop and worked up the courage to ask him out. It made sense. You shoved the toothbrush in your mouth just as Chan appeared in the doorway. 

“So you’ll help?”

You met his eyes in the mirror, he looked nervous—like you might actually say no. You nodded. It took one big step for him to wrap himself around you, mouth pressed to your skin. “Thank you,” he said, clinging to you a little longer than usual. 

“Get off or I’ll change my mind,” you mumbled around your toothbrush, a little toothpaste dribbling down your chin. He finished with his customary final squeeze and then he was gone. Leaving you to wonder what she looked like, this coffee shop girl.

“Is it alright that it’s all black?” he asked, fiddling with his collar. You’d put him in one of his long sleeve collared dress shirts and made him tuck it into some black pants with a belt. It was much more dressed up than his usual t-shirt and sweats look. 

“Yeah, just…” You reached to unbutton the shirt at his sleeves, rolling them up his arms. Your fingers brushed against his skin as you worked. You felt your cheeks warm. “If you roll these up it works for a day date, I think.” He was quiet as you moved to roll his other sleeve, it was rare for you to initiate any physical contact. You should’ve just told him to do this himself but it’d be awkward to stop now. You stood back when you were done, avoiding looking at his face as you inspected your work. He looked…really good. He turned to look in the mirror and fiddled with his sleeves a little before smiling.

“This is really okay?” he asked, meeting your eyes in the mirror. 

You gave him a reassuring smile. “Yeah… yeah it’s okay.” His phone vibrated from where he’d tossed it on the bed, startling you. You grabbed the rejected shirts from the bed to hang them back in his closet while he checked it. 

“It’s her,” he said as you distracted yourself with his clothes. “She’s leaving home now apparently.” 

“You should go then,” you said, hanging one of the shirts back on a hanger. A hand on your shoulder made you jump. Why the hell were you so jumpy? You hung up the shirt and turned to face him, adopting a neutral facial expression. 

“Can I have a good luck hug?” he asked, arms open to receive you.

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re asking?” You couldn’t think of a single time since you’d met when he’d asked you for a hug rather than just attaching himself to you with no warning.

His lips curved up into small smile. “I’m asking.” 

“A short one,” you said, unable to resist rewarding him for his unusual behaviour. 

He pulled you into his chest, the smell of his cologne overwhelming you. You were used to smelling his body wash when he was draped over you. He never wore cologne. You slowly lifted your arms to pat him lightly on the back. “Good luck then,” you muttered, prompting him to loosen his arms around you. Before you could pull away completely his hand moved up to hold the side of your head and his lips pressed gently to your forehead. You held your breath. He’d never done that before. You took a small step back and gave him a quick smile—failing to meet his eyes. Before he could get another word out you dashed from his room to the safety of your own. You sat on the end of your bed until you heard the front door close, falling back to stare at the ceiling as a heavy silence filled the apartment. 

You were struggling to keep your eyes open as you lounged in front of the TV. He’d been gone all afternoon and now it was well past your bedtime. You were working yourself up to accept the fact he probably wasn’t coming home tonight. It must have gone well. You’d been fiddling with your phone all afternoon, contemplating messaging him. What would you say? ‘How’s it going?’ ‘Is she prettier than me?’ ‘Are you going to go back to her place to fuck her?’ ‘When you wrap your arms around her, does she hug you back?’ Hence the phone being buried under the cushion at the other end of the couch, out of your reach. You were delaying going to bed, if you went to bed before he got home, the reality of him sleeping somewhere else—with someone else— would become real. Your eyes were so heavy, it wouldn’t hurt to close them for a little bit…

A warm body pressing you into the couch cushions woke you up, the smell of Chan’s cologne still lingering on his shirt. How long had you been asleep? It was still dark. “What time is it?” you whispered into his ear. 

“Just past 12 I think.” 

Had he fucked her already? Been to her place and fucked the pretty coffee shop girl before coming back here to press his body onto yours? “Get off,” you said, voice just above a whisper now. He played his usual game, ignoring you. You started squirming. “Chan, get off me,” you put as much assertiveness into your tone as you could. He pushed himself up so his weight was off you completely, hovering over you still. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Just get the fuck off me.”

He sat back on the couch, one leg tucked under him so he could keep his body turned towards you as you sat up against the arm rest. You pulled your knees to your chest. 

“Are you alright? What’s wrong?” he asked again. 

“Where were you?” 

“We ended up seeing a late movie, didn't start till 10. I texted you.” 

You looked down to the cushion he was sitting on, the one your phone was buried under. 

“I’m going to bed,” you announced, standing up. “Can you get up? You’re sitting on my phone.” He reached under himself, swiping around with his hand. He stood up and flicked the light on before resuming his search. 

“It’s not here.”

You reached under the couch cushion, digging your phone out to discover you had 3 messages—all from him and sent around 10pm. 

“Why is it under there?” he asked, blocking you from moving past him. 

“Move.”

“What are you so cranky for, hm?” He went to grab you, like he usually did whenever he pulled you against his chest. You grabbed his wrist. 

“Just—” you sucked in a breath. “Will you just fucking move?” you snapped. 

He frowned, stepping aside so you could escape to your room—shutting the door a little too hard behind you. Why were you so angry? The thought of him touching you like he usually did after touching her. It felt wrong. You climbed into your bed, pulling the blankets up to your shoulders. Guilt started leaking into your anger the longer you sulked, morphing it into anxiety. You hadn’t even asked him how it went, if he had a nice time. It was a big deal for him, going on a date. You stared at your phone on your bedside table for a while before giving in and snatching it. You opened the messages he’d sent earlier. 

i think your good luck hugs must have magical properties it’s going very well 

she complimented my outfit

gonna be home late we’re catching a movie 

You climbed out of bed, throwing your phone down onto the mattress behind you. Fuck it. When you opened your door, the lights were all off—he must’ve gone to bed. You’d have to wake him then. You shut your door behind you, again—a little too hard. You marched to his closed door, hesitating with your hand on the doorknob. This was crazy, you were being crazy. Why were you being crazy? You dropped your hand just as the door swung open. Chan stood on the other side wearing only his sweats. He was silent for a moment—looking you up and down before speaking, “Yes?” 

Fuck. Think of something not crazy to say. “I-I wanted to know what movie you saw.” Not great.

“Why?”

Why would you wake him up in the middle of the night to ask that? “Just curious.” Stupid.

“At 2am?”

It was 2am? You’d been stewing in your room for two hours. You’d lost it. “Nevermind.” You turned to leave, his hand catching you around the wrist. 

“Why do you wanna know what movie I saw? Do you not believe me?”

“Why wouldn’t I believe you?” 

“Because you think I fucked her instead.” 

You sucked in a breath, studying his face carefully. “Did you?” 

He took a step towards you, hand still wrapped around your wrist. “Are you jealous?” 

“No.”

“No?” He studied your face before slowly pulling you into his room and closing the door behind you. You found yourself pushed up against it, chest first. The wood was cold against the warm skin of your stomach, your small tank top riding up. “So it wouldn’t bother you if I touched her like this?” He traced his fingers up from your wrist slowly. They trailed all the way up your arm to your shoulder where he brushed your hair over your shoulder gently.  

“No,” you said again, less convincingly this time—voice a little breathy. 

He stepped closer, pressing your body further against the door with his. His lips touched the skin he’d revealed on your shoulder. “I think you’re jealous. I think you're angry with me for touching someone else. Hm? I’m right, aren't I?” You shook your head, breathing shallow. “I didn’t fuck her,” he continued. “We watched a movie, I drove her home and I kissed her goodnight.” You frowned.

“Kissed her?”

His chuckle tickled your skin. “On the forehead,” he clarified. 

“Like you kissed me…”

“No, not like I kissed you. That was different.”

You wriggled against him, turning yourself so your back was pressed against the door. He gave you no space to manoeuvre, keeping his body where it was right up against yours—your clothed breasts pressed against his bare chest. 

“Why was it different?”

“Because when I kissed her I was being polite.” 

“And when you kissed me?” you breathed. 

He traced his fingers up your neck, palm coming to a rest against your cheek—his thumb brushing back and forth against your skin. “That was because I love you.” 

You held your breath, eyes flicking back and forth between his as you attempted to decipher his meaning. Love…love as in his roommate who he loved as a close friend or… 

“You love me, too. Don’t you? I wasn’t sure. Not until tonight,” he continued.

“I-“ Did you love him? You wanted to kiss him. You were upset and you wanted to kiss him, that’s what you knew. 

“Mm?” he prompted.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his mouth to yours. He relented, letting you taste his lips on yours for the first time. You imagined how you’d feel if he had gone home with that girl tonight, if he’d come home the next day and announced he was seeing her again, if he started dating her and you missed your chance. You imagined if you couldn’t have him. 

He pulled away, leaving your lips wet. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes,” your voice was breathy as you panted, no hesitation this time. You attempted to pull him back for another kiss but he resisted. 

“Say it.” 

You leaned in to kiss each corner of his mouth before pressing your moist lips to his. “I love you,” you whispered against his mouth, feeling his lips curve up. 

“Yeah? Even when I smother you?” 

“Even then.” 

“Can I smother you now?”

“You’re asking?”

“I’m asking.” 

You detached yourself from him, ducking under his arms where they trapped you against the door. You crawled into his bed, lying back against his pillows as you approached you. “I’ve never had you in my bed before,” he smirked as he covered your body with his. “You’re always making me walk all the way to yours.” 

“I didn’t make you do anything.”

“I stubbed my toe on your door frame this morning.” 

“Your own fault.” 

He took your hands in his and stretched your arms above your head. You’d never held his hand before and now he was holding both as he hovered above you. Your hands were always so cold, his warm palms felt like they were bringing them to life. Sex was never a partcularly intimidate afair for you; you’d never slept with someone you actually cared about—who cared about you. Loved you? 

“Do you really?” 

“Hm?” 

“Love me.” 

“You really didn’t know? I didn’t think I could be any more obvious.” 

“You-I mean you never said anything…” You wracked your brain for any hints he could have given you. He never said anything, you were sure of it. He would never say anything important when he was draped over you. It was small talk. He was the only one who ever touched you that much but that’s just who he was. You thought that’s just who he was. “You mean all the…physical stuff?” You watched his lips curve up as he hovered over you. You’d had him over you so many times but with your mutual confessions still lingering in the air it felt altogether different. 

“Yeah, I mean the ‘physical stuff’.”

“You’re just like that though, you’re… not like me.” 

“I’m like that with people I love.” 

“Oh…” One of his hands moved to bring your wrists together so he could hold both your hands with one of his. The fingers on his free hand traced your lips, which had fallen open slightly in realisation. “But… you’ve always been like that with me.” 

“Mhm.” His fingers traced down your neck to the neckline of your tank top. “You’re not wearing a bra.” 

“I was sleeping.” 

“No you weren’t. You were stewing over me going on a date.” 

You ignored his teasing, focused on his gentle tracing across your chest. “Was she pretty?” you asked, watching his face for any clue about his true feelings. 

“Not nearly as pretty as you,” he muttered, sounding distracted as he released your hands from above your head. “Can I take this off?” He was playing with the hem of your top, his eyes fixed on where your nipples showed through the thin material. You placed your hand over his and guided him up under the hem, dragging his hand up your stomach to cup one of your breasts. 

“Soft,” he muttered. You couldn’t help laughing a little. 

“Yeah, have you never touched one before?” 

“Not these ones.”

“Are they different from the others?”

He ignored your question. “Can I see them? Please.”

“Since you asked so nicely.”

You pushed at his chest with your free hand, still feeling a little awkward initiating contact. Ridiculous really considering his hand was cupping one of your tits. He sat back on his heels, hand retreating from under your top at the last possible moment. You took a deep breath before pulling your tank over your head, resisting the urge to cross your arms across your chest the second you tossed it aside. During your previous sexual encounters you’d felt a lot more confident, the knowledge that it was merely a physical exchange; that you didn’t really care what the person thought of you—it made it all much less daunting. You cared what Chan thought of you, a lot. You cared if he thought you were prettier than the coffee shop girl and so sitting there in front of him topless? Terrifying. You watched his eyes take in your bare skin and then just as you were lifting your arms to cover yourself he grabbed your legs, pulling you down the bed until you were flat on your back. He covered your body with his, his chest pressing onto yours. You sucked in a breath at his warm skin against your sensitive nipples. 

“Always imagined how it’d feel to have you under me like this…” He had you under him like this most days, the only difference was that you were half naked this time. “Do you remember during that heatwave when you were walking around in that little dress?”

You did remember that day. It was one of the hottest days of the year and the power outage meant you were left to cool down with a cold bath and ice cream you’d saved from the freezer. A strappy nightdress—which honestly would probably be better described as lingerie—was all you could bare having against your sticky skin. You remembered it well because that night he’d fallen asleep in your bed, the first and only time you’d actually slept together. You’d woken up with him wrapped around you, your dress riding up between you. You hadn’t been able to look him in the eyes the rest of the next day. You felt your cheeks warm at the memory. 

“You were…more touchy than usual,” you said, avoiding directly referencing the night he’d spent in your bed. 

He lifted himself from his elbows to his hands, creating some space between your bare chests so he could see your face. “Was I? I just remember thinking you were the prettiest thing I'd ever seen.” 

You tried and failed to hold back a smile, completely unused to compliments from him at all let alone ones like that. His lips curved up at your reaction and then they were on yours. He thought you were pretty, the prettiest. He loved you and he thought you were the prettiest. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down onto you again—a groan escaping him as you did. His lips on yours, your arms around his neck, his warm chest pressed into yours—it wasn’t enough. You wanted more of him. You wrapped your legs around him, attempting to pull him closer. He laughed against your lips. “Who’s the clingy one now, hm?” 

“More,” you muttered, fingers gripping his hair at the back of his head. 

“More?”

“Closer,” you said, desperate now. 

“I’m not sure that’s possible, baby.” 

You rolled your hips up into him, frustrated by the separation both your shorts and his sweats created. “Take them off. Please.”

“You’ll have to loosen your grip,” he said, giggling a little. He giggled. He giggled while you were desperate for him to take his sweats off and fuck you full. You released him, pulling your shorts down your legs as you watched him take the last of his clothes off. You’d seen his top half plenty, he’d walk around the place shirtless constantly. Anything below the belt? Well, that was new. He stood at the end of the bed, stroking his hard cock as he looked down at you. You still had your underwear on.

“Let me take them off,” he said, walking around to the side of the bed where he dug through his bedside drawer. He fished out an unopened box of condoms, tossing them on the bed before he crawled over to you. “Let me,” he repeated, hooking his fingers into your underwear to pull them down your legs. He moved so slowly you were tempted to reach down and finish the job, his fingers brushing along your skin the entire way. When he finally threw them across the room he moved just as leisurely to grab a condom from the box. His eyes were fixed on your cunt as he slowly worked one down his cock, taking pleasure in drawing it out. You tried to stay quiet, not wanting to rush him but getting more and more impatient by the second. You sucked in a breath when he pressed a kiss to your ankle, the start of a long trail of kisses he made all the way up your legs. By the time he made it to your cunt you were squirming, desperate again. He pressed one kiss just above your clit and you reached down to grip his arm, attempting to pull him up to you. 

“Please….Channie…please…need you closer.”

He moved to hover over you, his mouth a breath away from yours. “How close, baby? Inside? You want me inside you?” 

“Please.” 

“You’re asking?” he smirked. 

You wrapped yourself around him again, arms and legs pulling him down into you. He laughed. “Okay, okay. Just wanted this so long, trying to make it last a little, hm?” He reached down to grip his cock, guiding himself to press the tip against you. “Here? Where do you want me?”

“There…there…” you whined. 

He pressed his lips to yours as his tip pushed into you. Closer. You moaned into his mouth. More. When he bottomed out you held him there, legs tightening around him. He was everywhere. He was over you, inside you.

“Don’t let go,” you whispered. 

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