#i don't know... it felt kinda wild to write this

[nicksolemnlyswears]

THE BEAR AND THE BEE HIVE

summary: in which carmy falls for the sweet café owner that supplies him with endless americanos

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

word count: 14.4k

warning: it's a little bit of a slow burn. sorry. i'm a sucker for it and i feel like carmy is a slow burn kinda guy. 18 +, cursing, smut, p in v, oral (m. receiving), fingering, they use protection guys! i deserve a pat in the back. nothing too wild. oh, and very brief mention of suicide.

a/n: i started writing this way back in october and then it was nearly done and i abandoned it. well i finally got around to completing it tonight!

this is my first time ever writing for carmy and i tried my best writing this. i love carmy and the show but i didn’t expect it to be hard to write him as a character. i wanted to get him right so i took my time with it and didn’t rush it. hopefully you guys like my carmy. enjoy!

i think i've had this stored in my drafts for like 4 months and it's time for me to set it free.

The cigarettes were not enough anymore. No matter how many smoke breaks Carmy took, he still felt the edge on his shoulders. A fear laced with anxiety that overtook him.

After deciding that blowing through yet another wall in his restaurant was the way to go, Carmy took a break. He needed it before he used the sledgehammer to destroy the restaurant in its entirety, along with his dream.

He remembers a coffee shop only a block away from The Bear and thinks he could use a coffee right about now. Maybe the mixture of caffeine and nicotine will be able to relax his shoulders, if only for an hour.

As soon as he opens the door, the smell of ground coffee beans greets him. He looks around, taking in the cozy ambiance the decorative wood brings to the place and the splashes of warm yellow that lighten it up.

Then he sees you, and his focus shifts entirely. His eyes only see you.

"Hi, welcome to Bee Hive!" You chirp with a small smile.

Carmy freezes, forgetting why he's there in the first place. He slowly steps up to the register, where you patiently wait for him. It's just after the lunch rush, so you're in no hurry.

He finds he's acting like a teenager who has just seen a pretty girl. Only he's not a teenager, and you're more than a pretty girl.

"What can I get for you today?" You ask, not noticing the effect you've had on him. You take a sharpie out of your yellow apron, preparing to scribble down his order in a cup.

Carmy has perfected the empty on the outside but screaming on the inside face. Strangers don't tend to know he's almost always losing his shit.

"I-I don't…sorry," Carmy looks at you briefly before diverting his eyes. He apologizes in a flurry, looking for an excuse for his weird behavior, "Uh, it's my first time here. What do you recommend?"

"It's not a problem," you say softly as if to calm him, "I'm a simple girl. I love the latte, but if you're looking for something stronger, the americano is one of the favorites."

Carmy nods as you ramble about the drinks, where the coffee beans come from, and the different notes of each blend. He hangs onto every word that slips from your lips. The static in his brain clearing up for the first time in hours.

It ends too soon as you realize you're talking too much and probably overwhelmed him. You sheepishly smile at him and trail off, but he continues to stare, waiting for you to continue.

"I'll take the Americano," Carmy nods, giving you a tight-lipped smile. Although he had been hanging to every one of your words, he was too focused on the shape of your lips and the sweet tone of your voice.

"Good choice," you nod, grabbing a cup from the tray beside you, "What's your name?"

Carmy looks up, slightly alarmed, as if you've asked for his social security number. "What?" He thinks you'll be forward and ask for his number next, seemingly forgetting how coffee orders work.

"Your name? For the order?" You explain, trying to ease his worries. He's odd, but in an endearing way. You believe this is his first time here because you're confident you would've remembered him.

"Fuck, right, yeah," he nervously says, pinching the bridge of his nose, "My name's Carmen."

"Your Americano will be right out, Carmen," you tell him, capping your sharpie back up.

Carmy quickly pays and stands to the side to wait for his order. He forces himself to not look at you or in your direction as you take other customers' orders. He just knows he's made a fool of himself already. Not that it matters. Why would it matter? He's there for the coffee. Nothing else, no one else.

As he walks out of Bee Hive, he sips his coffee. His shoulders instantly drop, and his fear-induced anxiety starts to dissipate for the moment. He's unsure if the effect is because of the caffeine or the thoughts of your pretty smile.

Visiting your coffee shop becomes routine for Carmy. Whenever things at The Bear become crazy -or he starts to lose his fuckin' mind- he makes his way to Bee Hive with a cigarette hanging from his lips.

For twenty minutes, he's free of Richie's constant hounding, Sugar's struggles with the permits and scheduling, and Sydney's disappointment because the menu is still extremely underway.

Each time he's stopped by, you've been there to greet him, and each time, you've left a little heart by Carmen's name, which makes his heart race in a peculiar way. His hands would touch his chest to check if it was heartburn, but it didn't feel like that. It's not anxiety either cause he knows pretty well how that feels.

All he knows is he hasn't done anything to deserve such a gesture. He's convinced himself you draw little hearts for everyone because he's not special.

One Thursday afternoon, Carmy realizes he doesn't know your name. He looks for a name tag, but you're not wearing one on your yellow apron. He should know your name if you insist on making small talk despite his short answers.

He can't help it. He gets too in his head to answer like a normal person, so his answers come out choppy and dry.

"Alright, Carmen, your order will be right out," you say, handing his cup to one of the baristas. You always hold out and ask him what he wants to order. He has the right to change his mind anytime, but for now, he's stuck with the americano, which he drowns in sugar.

As curiosity eats at him, he gathers the courage to ask. "Thanks. Hey, uh, I've-I’ve never gotten your name…” Carmy says, cursing at himself for not formulating the question correctly. His hand comes up to grip his hair instinctually.

Your smile widens when he asks your name. The silly crush you've developed for your customer fluttering to life. It's just a crush over a stranger, nothing to write home about.

You tell him your name but follow it with "-call me Honey. Everyone knows me by that name. I'm sure if you ask my friends about me with my real name, you'll throw them for a loop."

You're rambling, hoping he doesn't think calling you by your nickname is weird. Then again, how can he judge when he has a sister people call 'Sugar' and he and his siblings also don the nickname 'Bear.'

"Honey." Carmy repeats your nickname, smiling as he finds it fitting. "In that case, call me Carmy."

"Nice to properly meet you, Carmy," you say, grinning.

Like all the days before, Carmy steps aside and waits for his coffee. He doesn't let himself continue the conversation or ask more about you even if it’s everything he wants to do.

It's rare for Carmy to be in a good mood, and whenever it happens, it doesn't tend to last. His goal of opening a restaurant in 12 weeks makes it impossible for him to relax and enjoy the ride. To prolong this unusual feeling, Carmy stops by Bee Hive on his way to The Bear.

"Have you made your boss angry, Honey?" He asks as he pulls out his wallet to pay. He ordered the americano as he always does.

"No…why do you ask?" You ask, tilting your head in confusion.

"Uh, 'cause you-you're always here. Do you not take days off? Not that I'm complaining. I-I like seeing you here." Carmy's words get quieter as he speaks, red creeping up his neck. So much for trying to make a joke.

You look around the room and tell him, "Imma let you in on a little secret."

Carmy follows your hand, waving him to get closer. The smell of cigarettes invades your senses as you get close to him. You'd never admit that the mix of his cigarettes and your coffee is addicting. As both lean over the counter, you whisper, "I'm the boss. I can't run away even if I wanted to."

"You own the coffee shop," Carmy pans in shock.

Carmy is more than surprised at your words. Especially now that he knows how expensive it is to open a business. You can't be a day over 25 and own a successful coffee place. There is hope, after all.

"I do," you nod, standing straight once more.

A couple of years ago, you had inherited a hefty amount of money from an estranged aunt. Fresh out of college and with no real plan, you thought it would be a good moment to follow your dream and open the cozy café.

"How do you do it?" Carmy asks, amazed at the girl smiling at him. "I don't know if you know, but, um, I-I'm opening the restaurant around the block. Used to be The Beef?" He finishes grimly as he points to his side of the block.

"Oh, yeah. The guys who worked there helped me move some equipment when I first opened two years ago," you reveal, "Tell you what, whenever you have a break, come around. I'll give you a free americano and tell you all about it. Neighbor to neighbor."

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Carmy agrees. "I'll take you up on that."

Weeks go by, and Carmy seemingly forgets about Bee Hive and your pending conversation. You try not to overthink about his absence or how you might've scared him away. He's probably just busy remodeling his restaurant. You know better than anyone how much time that takes.

Still, his presence has become part of your routine, and you can't help but look at the door each time the bell rings. You expect to see him walking up to the counter, the remnants of cigarette smoke coming out his nose as he breathes.

You're pretty close to your assumption because Carmy has been dealing with the fire suppression test. They didn't fail the test once but twice, and if they didn't pass it on the third try, their plan to open the restaurant in 12 weeks goes out the window. Fak has tried everything, and nothing works.

He'd sent Richie once on a coffee run, but the fuckin' idiot went to the nearest Starbucks. Carmy had been looking forward to tasting your coffee and seeing his name in the cup with the little heart because he's 100% sure he's the only Carmen you know. It's not a common name in these parts of town.

One very early morning, he's walking to work, and as he passes Bee Hive, he sees you inside, wiping tables down before you open at 6:30.

Impulsively, he knocks on the glass, not giving himself the time to overthink things. You turn to look at the window and see him standing outside, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his familiar plaid jacket to protect himself from the chilly March air.

"Hey stranger," you greet him, opening the door and inviting him in.

"Hi," he breathes out, staring at you, "you're here early," he tries to casually mention.

You roll your eyes dramatically and say, "It's a downside of the job. Did you know people want coffee at the crack of dawn?"

You try acting as nonchalant as possible. It's not like you missed seeing one of your favorite customers, his beautiful blue eyes, or the way he rocks a simple white t-shirt.

"I had no idea," Carmy smiles, bringing his tattooed hand up to his lips, "I, uh, usually drink mine at night." That much is true. On those sleepless nights when insomnia takes over him, the best remedy is coffee.

"Would you make an exception and join me for a morning coffee at the crack ass of dawn?" Anxiously, you play with the rings on your fingers. It feels like you're asking the guy on a date when it's just a friendly coffee.

"As long as you have some business advice to spare?" Carmy responds shakily. He briefly looks down the street to glimpse at his restaurant. It's too early for anyone to be there yet.

"Deal."

Throwing the towel over your shoulder, you make your way behind the counter. Carmy attempts to make small talk with you as you prepare both drinks.

This is the first time he's watching you in action since you tend to stick to the cash register when he's around. It's not a coincidence. After the first time he came to Bee Hive, you wanted to see more of him, so you stationed yourself at the register where you'd be sure to see him, and he'd see you.

"Here you go." You place his coffee mug on the table along with yours before disappearing momentarily and returning with an orange soufflé coffee cake. You're pulling all the stops for Carmy to leave a good impression.

Carmy thanks you and sips his coffee, "Wow, this is fire!" He expected to taste an americano, but what you prepared was entirely different. He can make out hints of hazelnut and caramel in the coffee.

"Thanks. I took the liberty of changing your order. You can always come back to the americano, though…" you shrug shyly, looking at him over the rim of your mug.

"I-I appreciate it. Thanks." Carmy throws you a nervous grin. He gestures with his tattooed hand to dig into the cake you brought out. He shouldn't be the only one eating.

You and Carmy share the cake as you talk about yourselves and the crazy businesses you own. Somehow, talking to you comes easy to him. He's still nervous and scared to fuck things up, but the warm coffee and your even warmer smile ease him into it.

"How do you do it? This place is always packed, and you seem like you run a tight ship," Carmy wonders, playing with the fork. The cake is long gone, although the notes of orange remain on his tongue. Would you taste the same?

"It wasn't without mistakes. I had to learn a lot from my fuck ups and listen to my team because although I'm the owner, they are the ones doing most of the work. Whenever there's a flaw, they are the first to know," you speak softly, afraid of ruining the calm ambiance you've set up, twirling the small amount of coffee left in your mug.

It's your favorite part of morning coffee. When you have just the smallest bit of coffee left, and you know you'll never drink it because it's cold, but it gives you an excuse to remain where you are.

"So, all I gotta do is listen?" It's funny you say that because Carmy listens, but his friend's voices get muddled somewhere along the way. As much as he tries to focus on them, they merge together and form a cacophony in his head.

"A lot of listening and a lot of experimentation. I've been open for two years, and it's only been in the last six months that I can confidently tell you we found our groove," you admit with a grimace.

Bee Hive is your baby, but bringing it to life was everything but easy. You messed up so many times, costing you so much money. You didn't know shit about owning a business or building one from the ground up. Doing research and putting your pride aside to ask for help got you through it.

"I've only been doing this for, like, less than a fuckin' year, and I already want to pull my hair out," Carmy admits with a pitiful laugh.

"I'm sorry I can't tell you it gets better soon," you say apologetically, reaching for his hand that rests on the table.

Carmy freezes, glancing at your hand on top of his. He hasn't got a clue what to fucking do with the display of affection. Was it a display of affection? He doesn't fucking know. "It's, uh, it's, uh, it's alright. As-as long as you give me coffee, I think I can make it through," Carmen furrows his eyebrows as he stutters through the sentence.

"I can't wait to see what the award-winning chef does," you say, bringing your hand back to your lap, none the wiser to Carmy's internal struggle.

He should've done something to keep your hand on his. Place his other hand on yours or fucking turn his hand around to grasp it. He liked feeling your warm skin on his. It hasn't been a minute since you pulled away, and he's craving it already. It's ridiculous. Is he really that touch-starved that he's seeking affection from a near stranger?

He coughs and darts his eyes between the wooden table top and you, "Fuck. You-you know about that?"

"I might've done some research after finding out you're opening the restaurant. I got curious. I'm sorry." Apologizing is your default thing to do. Messing things up is your area of expertise. You really didn't think he'd mind you mentioning it.

"No, no, no, uh, you don't have to apologize. You just caught me off guard," Carmy shakes his head, reassuring both of you.

"Okay, good," you lightly smile at him, averting your eyes when your gazes meet.

If there's a time for you to make a move, it's now. Taking a shaky breath, you speak up, "I was wondering if you'd ever like to-."

A loud knock on the glass door interrupts you. You and Carmy jump and look towards the source of the noise. It's one of your regular clients, waving at you to open up. Looking at your watch, you see it's 6:30 already.

"Shit. I'm-I'm sorry I took so much of your time," Carmy apologizes, picking up his mug and the plate to put away.

You grab his wrist to make him stop in his tracks, "Relax. I enjoyed talking to you. Maybe we can do it again soon?"

Carmy nods wide-eyed. He likes the idea just as much as you do. You take away the mug and plate with a soft 'okay.' He then follows you to the door as you unlock it and turn the sign to 'open.'

"I, um, gotta go work on the menu. I'll probably be back later for another coffee?" Carmen asks you as if he's asking for permission, which you find adorable.

"I'll be behind the register," you say, watching him walk away. He turns his head back for a moment, and you catch the smile gracing his lips as yours turns to mimic him.

"Oh, he's cute," your customer, an older lady, says, watching him go along with you. "It's about time you got a boyfriend."

"Mrs. O'Hara, here for your tea?" You ask her, ignoring the comment about your love life. That woman will set you up with anyone. She does love her tea, though, and expects you to provide it on time.

It's slow, but Carmen warms up to you. Instead of grabbing his coffee to go, he now drinks it at the café, coincidentally around the same time you take your break.

He's been hesitantly opening up. It's not like he's telling you about how fucked up his family is or how his brother committed suicide. More often, it's about the restaurant and his work as a chef, the struggles of getting every permit they need on a tight schedule since they are supposed to open in about four weeks now, or the occasional childhood memory. It's everything you need to know at this stage.

You love listening to Carmy talk, even if you have to coax it out of him sometimes. He's passionate about the restaurant despite all the stress that comes from it, and he adores the people he works with. He's shy but not in a dorky way because he's actually fascinating. Before meeting him, you never knew that collecting denim was a thing.

The smell of cigarettes that clings to him is also tightly laced with his character. When you step outside to get some sun and the scent of someone smoking hits you, your heart instantly speeds up, hoping it's him coming for his daily americano, or to come swoop you away into a sunset.

"-I fell on my ass in the middle of the street. I was freaking out, thinking I was gonna get run over by a car," you exclaim as you tell Carmy about the crazy Christmas you spent in New York last year.

"It's New York. You probably would have been run over," Carmy chuckles along with you. "There was this one time I was running late and-" His phone vibrating interrupts him.

"Sorry, it's just the fridge guy," he tells you with a furrow of his eyebrows. You notice he does that a lot when he's thinking deeply. Carmy silences it and looks back over to you.

"You should pick that up. A busted fridge is the last thing you need. Trust me. Been there, done that." You encourage him to take the call. The restaurant is more important than your story about how you bruised your coccyx in New York.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Carm! Call him back before you forget," you insist, grabbing his empty cup to trash it. You don't give him any other option, leaving him there to help your employees with a faulty machine.

He watches you closely, closer than ever before. He allows himself to watch how you frown at the machine and how your ringed fingers fumble with the knobs. His eyes keep trailing down involuntarily, and they take in how nicely your jeans hug your ass.

He goes into a spiral into these old pair of Levi jeans popular in the 90s and how they would fit nicely with the shape of your hips and legs. Carmy continues on the tangent, imagining himself peeling them off your body.

The phone vibrating in his hand snaps him out of it. Clearing his throat, he picks up the phone and walks outside. He waves at you through the window as he makes his way back to The Bear. Your frustration at the machine vanishes momentarily as you wave back, except the machine splatters, forcing you to redirect your attention. When you look outside again, he's gone.

Stakes are high at The Bear. There's less than four weeks until Friends and Family, and there is much to do. Marcus has returned from Copenhagen and is working on the desserts. Tina is doing her job as the new sous chef. Fak and Sweeps are helping out wherever they can. And Richie is being Richie, trying to be open but resisting change.

"I need coffee or a pop. Anything with caffeine," Sydney says, throwing her head back. She and Carmen have been working on the chaos menu for hours, and she keeps messing up. Carmy insists that it's okay that they'll adjust and get it right soon, but she's beginning to lose hope.

"Me too. I'd kill for an espresso," Natalie agrees, softly rubbing her hand over her growing bump.

"I thought you couldn't have caffeine cause of the baby," Richie mentions, remembering Tiff's time while pregnant.

"I don't need you to fuckin' tell me what I can or can't eat, Richie," Natalie yells, glaring at him. Although he's right, the doctor told her to limit her caffeine intake. Hard to do when she's up all night thinking about everything she needs to do for The Bear.

"Shit. I'm sorry for fucking caring," Richie screams back, lifting his hands up in defense.

"I can go to the coffee place down the block. Get everyone something," Carmy pipes up, looking forward to seeing you today.

Natalie is quick to shoot that idea down, "You can't. The fridge guy is coming in 20 minutes."

"Fuck, that's right," Carmy groans, digging his head in his hands. His fingers rake through his hair, messing up his curls. He wanted to see you and talk to you, even if it was for five short minutes.

"I'll go," Sydney sighs. She needs to leave the kitchen for more than five minutes, or she'll go crazy, "Just tell me what you guys want to order."

Natalie grumbles about getting decaf, Richie orders a plain black coffee, and Carmy asks for his americano. As Sydney leaves to ask Marcus, Carmy yells after her, "Please, go to Bee Hive. If you get Starbucks, I'm gonna fucking lose it."

Richie and Natalie exchange a look. Richie because he's confused, and Natalie because she knows something is happening with Carmy. He's never been picky over coffee. In fact, they have an old coffee machine in the office that now goes unused because he's always at that coffee shop.

"Sorry, I didn't get the fuckin' memo. Since when is Starbucks bad?" Richie frowns, looking to get a rise out of Carmy.

"I don't think it's about the coffee, cousin," Natalie responds, directing her gaze towards her brother, who is hunched over the counters, chopping vegetables.

"If it's not about the coffee, what is it about?" Richie questions, crossing his arms.

"Shut the fuck up, Sugar," Carmy grumbles, looking at his sister with a glare. He already knows where she's going. She tried to bring it up a couple of days ago after she walked by the coffee shop and saw him being friendly with you.

Natalie smiles and responds, "Carmy has a crush on the barista."

"That's ridiculous. I don't have a crush on her." Carmy shakes his head, avoiding Richie and Natalie's eyes on him. They always do this. They gang up on him if he shows even the slightest interest in a girl. They think they can help, but all they do is embarrass him.

"Come on, Bear. Why else would you go almost every day to get coffee?" Natalie asks, giving him a look.

"Because it's good fuckin' coffee. Jesus, it's not that deep." Carmy grabs the veggies he chopped and drops them into a container to use later.

"It's okay to admit you like a pretty girl, cousin! I'm excited for you! Makes you human and not a lonely hermit," Richie jokes, pushing on Carmy's buttons. "When was the last time you got laid?"

"I swear to God, Richie. Shut the fuck up," Carmy points at him angrily.

"No, I should go with Sydney and see who this girl is!" Richie says, walking out of the half-built kitchen.

Carmy follows him instantly, "You're not going fuckin' anywhere, fuckin' jagoff." He's turning red from anger, seeing Richie with his mocking smile. Natalie follows behind them, amused at the situation. It reminds her of the banters they used to get in with Mickey.

"Admit that you like her," Richie shrugs, giving him a choice.

"No, I won't," Carmy refuses. "You always do this shit."

"Then, I'm going," Richie nods, stepping towards the door.

"Fuck! Shit, alright. I like her, okay? Don't fucking go anywhere," Carmy yells, rubbing a hand on his face out of frustration. It's like he's not allowed to keep anything good to himself.

"Was that so hard?" Richie grins, clapping a hand on Carmy's shoulder.

"Don't fuckin' touch me," Carmy grumbles, walking back to the kitchen. Natalie follows him with a smile, shaking her head at Richie.

Carmy sighs and squeezes his eyes shut. He has yet to admit that he likes you more than he should. He's been avoiding it, afraid of what it might lead to, or rather, what it might not.

He couldn't let Richie go see you. He has a big fuckin' mouth and will tell you Carmy has a crush on you whether it's true or not. Just like that, he feels the sour taste in his mouth, his heartburn making an appearance. Carmy should go look for his pepto before it gets worse.

Unaware of the argument back at The Bear, Sydney walks to Bee Hive. She's walked past many times but has yet to have the time to stop and try it out.

As she waits in line, she reads over the drinks menu. It's clear that it's been carefully curated. Starbucks has nothing on this menu. She can see why Carmy would prefer to come here instead.

When it's her turn to order, Sydney takes out her phone to recite everyone's drink order. She also points to a few pastries, thinking Marcus would like to try some of them and get inspiration. That and she knows Natalie will enjoy them as well.

You're sitting at a table close to the pickup counter. You often find yourself all over the store, ensuring everything goes smoothly. Sometimes, you stop to talk to your regulars and see how they're doing.

You notice Sydney struggling with all the cups she has to carry. It's proving difficult despite the to-go trays your barista put them in. Deciding to approach her, you ask, "Do you need help?"

"Oh, no. I'm fine, thanks," Sydney responds with a nervous smile. She's trying hard to grab everything, including the box with the pastries.

You continue watching her struggle because you know she needs help. You let her try and figure it out for one more minute before stepping in again when she almost drops two of the drinks, "Need some help now?"

"Yeah," Sydney sighs, "I guess I can leave one of the trays here, go to the restaurant, and come back for the rest," she speaks mostly to herself.

"Are you going far?"

"No, just the restaurant down the block," Sydney responds with a sigh, scratching her eyebrow as she tries to figure out the logistics of carrying the drinks. She could get a box to put everything in.

You perk up at her response. The only restaurant down the block is Carmen's. Could she work there? "Carmy's restaurant?"

"You know Carmy?" Sydney asks, tilting her head. Maybe Nat was right. Carmy spends his time here because of the woman in front of her.

"He comes here often. Anyway, I can go with you to help you out. It's not far, and I'd feel bad if your drinks got cold." You offer to help her out because you're a nice person. Not because you want a chance to see the curly-haired man you are developing feelings for.

"You really don't have to…"

"It's really not a problem," you press, grabbing one of the to-go trays and motioning for her to lead the way.

Sydney sighs in defeat and nods, "Thanks. I'm Sydney, by the way."

"I'm Honey," you smile, following her outside.

You chat all the way to the restaurant with Sydney. She reminds you of Carmy in some ways, so you can see why they are friends. Before arriving at the restaurant, Sydney apologizes in advance for any sort of mess there might be, including yelling.

As you near the building under renovation, your palms start to sweat. Maybe you shouldn't have come. You're showing up unannounced, and he's probably too busy to talk to you anyway. You can slip in and out without him noticing. That's the goal now.

You open the door for Sydney, letting her go through first, and quietly follow her into the restaurant. There's no time to escape, as all eyes are instantly on you.

Richie is arguing with Fak when he sees you walk in. He narrows his eyes as Carmy looks in your direction from the kitchen. With just one glance to Carmy's face, he knows who you're supposed to be.

"Guess I didn't have to go anywhere. She came to me," Richie whispers, rushing out the door.

"Shut the fuck up. Where are you going? Don't embarrass me!" Carmy whispers out to Richie unsuccessfully.

"Oh, you'll do that all by yourself," Richie throws over his shoulder.

"Honey, hey, what-what're you doing here?" Carmy speaks, not giving Richie a chance to open his big mouth. He stands between you and Richie, blocking him for the time being.

"Sydney needed help with the drinks," you answer nervously, averting your eyes.

"Oh, thanks for that. You didn't have to," Carmy approaches you and takes the drinks from your hands. His fingers brush with yours momentarily, causing you both to blush.

"I did, or else you probably wouldn't have anything to drink," you whisper to him.

Sydney, Fak, and Richie all watch the interaction amusedly. Richie has a big teasing grin on his face as he makes a plan in his head.

"Hi, I'm Richie! Carmy's cousin," he introduces himself, shoving Carmy to the side and shaking your hand enthusiastically. "I gotta say Carmen right here is obsessed with your coffee. He's banned us from getting Starbucks."

Carmy curses under his breath as Richie does precisely what he tells him not to. He has the urge to throw the coffee at him and run away.

"Is that right?" You ask, amused, looking over at Carmy with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh yeah," Richie answers for him as Carmy tries to find the right words to say. "Cousin, why don't you give the nice lady a tour of the place?"

"It's not done yet. Could be dangerous," Carmy hopelessly says with a gulp.

"Nonsense! You'll take care of her!" Richie insists. He takes the coffee from Carmy's hands and pushes him in your direction. "Go give her a tour."

Richie, Sydney, and Fak all disappear to the office to stay out of the way and try to snoop simultaneously. Fak sends Carmy a not-so-discreet thumbs-up that makes you giggle.

He's internally screaming at his so-called friends but is glad to see you. It was all he wanted before Sydney left to get their drinks. It's strange having you here at The Bear, though. He's so used to seeing you in your own space back at Bee Hive.

Trying to make things better, you say, "Sorry you've been roped into this. You probably have better things to do. I can go-"

Carmy doesn't let you finish. "No, stay. I want to show you around."

"Let's see what you got then, Berzatto," you grin, following him to the kitchen.

Carmy takes his time showing you The Bear. He wants you to stay. He wants to spend time with you but doesn't really know how to say it. So he takes it slow, answers your questions about the restaurant, shows you the front and how everything will be laid out, and introduces you to the ones around, including the fridge guy working on the handle.

Sadly, you get a call from Bee Hive asking you to come back. Carmy walks you outside, dreading having to say goodbye.

"I'm really excited for The Bear to open. You have a great place and team," you tell Carmy.

"I really got lucky with them, huh?" He asks, playing with a dish towel.

"I gotta go. I'll see you later, Berzatto." You don't know where you got the guts to lean towards him and kiss his cheek.

Carmy stays still as his face heats up. You start walking away and throw him a smile over your shoulder. When you're a distance away, he touches the cheek you kissed. Back inside, Richie runs over to Sugar to tell her what he just witnessed.

It's late when Carmy leaves The Bear. As he walks to the train station, he has his hands stuffed in his jacket pocket. On his way, he sees a lone light turned on in your café. Crossing the street to check it out, he sees you're still there with glasses perched on your nose in front of the computer.

He tries the door, and to his luck, it's open. You look in his direction, startled, but relax once you see it's him.

"Nice glasses," Carmy teases, pulling out a chair to sit.

"Are you making fun of me?" You purse your lips, propping your chin on your palm.

"No, I…I think you look cute with them," Carmy admits. After a stern talk from Sugar and Richie, he's realized he should probably make a proper move on you because if what they say is true, you also have a crush on him.

"Thanks," you blush, the light from your screen making it obvious to Carmy, who can't stop the corners of his lips from turning up into a smile.

"Late night?"

"One of my baristas is moving out of state. I have to find someone new, preferably who has experience," you say with a sigh. Glancing at him, you add, "Are you perhaps interested in the position?"

"Poaching me from my own restaurant, nice. I'll let you know I'm an excellent worker," Carmy jokes, tapping his fingers on the table.

There's no doubt in your mind he's an excellent worker. He has to be if he's considered one of the best up-and-coming chefs. Or to work in one of the best restaurants in the world with three Michelin stars.

"I don't know. I'll need references," you speak as if not believing him.

Carmy smiles and softly chuckles, "Fair enough."

There's a moment of silence between the two of you that Carmy is quick to fill, "So, uh, have you had dinner yet by chance?" This is it.

You shake your head no and look at him with hopeful eyes.

"Wanna go grab pizza? I know a place," he asks, finding your gaze on him.

"Say no more," you say, closing your laptop and taking off your glasses. "I'm starving."

Carmy waits for you to lock Bee Hive and grab your things. Then, you both walk to the pizza place. To pass the time, you and Carmy talk about your days and anything that comes to mind. Nothing serious as you get to know each other.

Waiting in line to order the pizza, you tell him all about your nickname and how you were donned 'Honey' to everyone who knows you. In return, he tells you about his nickname 'Bear' and why his restaurant is named as such. For the first time, he dares mention Mickey.

"Best pizza in Chicago," Carmy says, taking a slice of the pie and placing it on your plate.

"I'll see about that," you murmur. You wait until he has a slice of his own and dig in simultaneously.

"It's good, but this is not the best pizza place in Chicago," you say after chewing the first bite, "I'm gonna get your chef license revoked."

"Are you? With what proof? Have you tried all the pizza places to know?"

"I don't have to because I've tried the best," you hum, taking another bite. The cheese stretches as you pull it away.

"Oh yeah? Which one?" Carmy questions you, taking a drink of his beer.

"Mine. The pizza I make is the best," you shrug modestly.

"Wait. You cook?" Carmy asks, giving you a look of surprise.

Cooking is a universal thing. Most people know how to cook up to a degree, yet only some are as confident in their skills as you are. You know you're definitely not up to Carmy's level, but if there is something you know how to do properly, it's pizza.

"Yeah! You're not the only good cook here, Berzatto," you sass back at him, dipping the pizza crust in the marinara sauce.

"Sorry for assuming," he raises his palms.

"You're forgiven," you chirp.

"When will I try this famous pizza of yours then?" Carmy wonders. An attempt to see if you'd like to see more of him.

"I promise I'll make it for you once you open The Bear. You're too stressed to fully enjoy it now," you respond. You were reaching out. Throwing hints that you want this to continue in the foreseeable future.

The conversation continues to flow with an empty pizza box in front of you. Customers come and go until it's only the two of you and a drunk customer picking up his pizza.

"Tell me about your tattoos. Were they an act of rebellion or something else?"

It's an excuse to touch his hands. You reach for them, turning them to see the black ink on his hands and fingers. You gently trace over them with the pads of your fingers. Over the hand that's stabbed, the letters S.O.U. on his knuckles and the forget-me-nots. The one you're dying to touch, though, is the one on his bicep; you'd give anything to feel the hard muscle underneath the rolled-up sleeves of his white t-shirt.

"Uh, my first tattoo is the 773. Got it when I left Chicago for the first time. After that, I sort of became addicted to them. I found they helped my anxiety when it was becoming too much. The pain distracted me and made me feel stronger than I actually was," he says, letting you touch him. He finds that he likes it. Your touch is soft and warm. Comforting.

"So what you're trying to say is you're a masochist," you say, bouncing your eyebrows at him. Your touch goes further up his arm to turn it and look at the fish tattoo on his forearm.

"I guess so," Carmy responds with a breathy laugh, "Do you have any tattoos?"

"Maybe…" You shrug as the pads of your fingers trail back down to his palm until you pull them back towards you. Carmy instantly misses the feeling, opting to cross his arms to retain the warmth you left behind.

"It's bad, isn't it?" He says knowingly. Your reaction told him everything he needed to know.

"The worst," you grimace, shaking your head at the memory of you getting it.

"So, rebellion or something else?"

"Rebellion. For all the wrong reasons," you groan, burying your face in your hands, "Growing up, everyone saw me as a good girl because that's what I was. Breaking the rules terrified me. So, as a teenager, I didn't want to be seen as a goody two shoes, so the summer before I went to college, I decided that getting a tattoo would make me a badass."

"Did it work?"

"God, no. I only got the outline done 'cause it hurt like a bitch. Then I went crying to my parents, fully having a meltdown, apologizing for disappointing them," You scrunch your nose as you say the following words, "They laughed in my face, called me a wimp, and told me to suck it up."

Carmy fully laughs at your story. Head thrown back, eyes closing, "What did you get?"

"That's a secret, Berzatto," you purse your lips, avoiding responding. You just know he'll make fun of you for it.

Everyone who has seen your tattoo has made fun of you for it, yourself included. It's so silly and not badass. Carmy will have to wait to see your tattoo, and you hope this continues so he can see it up close.

"Really? That bad?" Carmy stares wide-eyed.

"It's terrible," you nod, leaning on the table. "We should probably get going before the waitress throws a fit."

Carmy looks over his shoulder to see the waitress glaring at them. It's five minutes till close, and they've made no move to go. He turns back to you and nods towards the door. Carmy helps you with your jacket and leaves a tip on the jar for the waitress. At that, she happily calls after them with a 'Good night!'

"Do you live far?" Carmy asks, seeing how dark it is now that most places have closed. There are too many lamp posts that aren't working. He'd feel better if he could walk you home or you called an Uber. Preferably the former.

"Only a couple of blocks away. Why?"

"It's late. Let me walk you home," Carmy says decidedly, not giving you much of a choice.

"Thanks," you respond with a small smile.

The pace you set is slow. You don't want your time with Carmy to end just yet. He's such an interesting and sweet guy. He's a little awkward, but it adds to his charm, and you can see he's trying.

Somewhere along the way, his hand brushes against yours briefly. Then, it happens again, and you decide to bite the bullet. You grasp his hand in yours.

"Is this okay?" You ask when he falls silent.

Carmy doesn't have a lot of experience with girls. He can't even remember the last time he held a girl's hand. All he knows is he doesn't remember ever feeling this good. "Yes, uh, this is okay."

Carmy walks you up to your front door when you reach your house. You unlock the door but stay outside face-to-face with Carmy.

"Thanks for the pizza," you say, fiddling with your fingers. You were about to make one more move for the night. Because as long as Carmy allows you, you'll keep pushing for more.

"Sorry, it wasn't the best," he retorts, rubbing his jaw with his hand. You notice he does that a lot when nervous.

"Your company made up for it," you reassure him, "g'night Carmy." You kiss his cheek goodbye, watching as his cheeks blush.

"Night," he whispers.

As you turn to leave, Carmy stops you by grabbing your wrist, "Wait-uh, can I? Uh-shit. Fuck it." For a second, Carmy shuts out the excessive thoughts in his head and does what he's been dying to do for weeks.

Carmy cups your jaw and kisses you. It's soft and slow. He gives you enough leeway to pull away if it's something you don't want, but you reciprocate eagerly. You've been waiting for this all night.

As confidence surges through his body, Carmy throws an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. You wrap your arms around him, one of your hands resting on his neck, tangling on his curls. The tug of your fingers feels like heaven.

The kiss turns needy and desperate, your lips moving perfectly in sync. His tongue brushes over your lip; Carmy has been dying to test a theory. Are you as sweet as your name?

He's rewarded by a little noise in the back of your throat as he slips his tongue into your mouth. It's endearing, and he finds a way to make you do it again. With heads tilting to deepen the kiss, he concludes he was right. You're pure honey. Sweet and addicting.

When Carmy returns to his apartment, he gets the urge to create, to cook. He wants to bring your taste to life with his cooking. Something with honey.

"I was wondering if you'd want to come to the restaurant for Family and Friends."

You and Carmy are in your little office at Bee Hive. He stands between your legs as you sit on the desk. His lips are slightly red and swollen, and the hair at the nape of his neck is messier than usual.

"Hm, I could be persuaded," you pretend to think as you play with the golden chain around his neck, pulling him towards you.

"Yeah?" Carmy laughs, leaning to brush his lips against yours. When he feels you nod, he closes the small gap between the two of you.

His hands hold your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. He tastes like coffee, which is to be expected from the discarded cup beside you. It's funny how your relationship, if it could be called that, has moved all around Bee Hive from the register to the front and now to your office.

You're at a weird spot where you're not exactly friends because friends don't kiss, but you're not a couple either. It's a situationship for sure. You're content with what you have now, although you'd also love it if Carmy were to ask you to be more. You pin it on him being shy. He'll get around to it.

"What do you say?" Carmy questions as he kisses a trail from your cheek to your jaw.

"Consider me in," you giggle when he kisses a tickly spot.

Carmy brushes a strand of hair out of your face, remaining close to you. This is what he needs. After months of stress and anxiety of having to deal with The Beef, now The Bear, he needed you and your calming presence. Someone removed from the chaos, a safe haven.

He's quiet as his thoughts consume him, and you take the intimate position to fix his gold chain. Turning it so the clasp faces the back instead of the front. "I'm excited, Carmy," you say with a smile, brushing his cheek with your thumb.

"You can bring someone with you," Carmy offers nervously because he realizes he probably won't have the time to spend much time with you. "I-I don't think I'll be around much. I'm sorry. I'd understand if that makes you change your mind," Carmy drops his head as he braces himself for disappointment.

As the weeks pass, you learn more about Carmy and his insecurities. It doesn't deter you from wanting to be with him. Everyone has their issues. "Berzatto, stop. Look at me," you softly divert his attention, "I'd love to go and support you even if it's from the sidelines."

"You sure?" He asks once more.

If reassurance is what he needs, that's what you'll give. "Don't worry about me. This is your moment, Carmy. Enjoy it. I'll be around afterward."

"Thank you for understanding," Carmy responds, stealing one more kiss from you.

When he returns to The Bear, he helps Sydney prep the dishes they finally chose to serve. He notes how everything is laid out and anything they should fix before opening.

Richie struts into the kitchen with a suit on. Apparently, it's his thing now. Carmy figures staging at Chef Terry's restaurant had a good impact on him. All Carmy wanted was to show Richie he had what it takes. That he's not a fuck up.

"Glad to see things are going well with Honey," Richie thunders.

"What are you talking about?" Carmy says in a rush as he plates the lamb expertly.

"That thing on your neck," Richie says, motioning to his own neck. He has a smug look on his face.

"I don't have time for this, cousin," Carmy grumbles, wiping the plate where the sauce might've splattered.

Groaning, Richie grabs one of the new pans and holds it in front of Carmy. "I don't see anything," he frowns, looking at Richie for an explanation.

"Right here," Richie points towards the edge of his t-shirt around his neck.

Carmy pulls it back and finally spots what Richie has been referring to. There is a fading purple bruise on his skin, a hickey. You must've done it when he was back in your office. He'd been too busy touching you to notice.

Sydney, silently watching, pipes up, "No wonder he hasn't been as on edge lately." Carmy shoots her a glare, which causes her to shrug and laugh with a, "What? It's true."

"Ay, yo, Sugar, get in here!" Richie yells down the hall to the office.

"What is it?" Natalie barges in, afraid something went to shit.

Carmy ignores Richie as he babbles to Natalie what he found. His face is red, though, as Sydney nudges his side.

"That's enough about me. We have shit to do," Carmy shouts in his chef's voice.

Everyone in the kitchen, including Richie and Natalie, repeats, "Yes, chef!"

Walking out of the kitchen Richie, 'whispers' to Natalie, "I've always wondered if he likes to be called chef in bed."

"Fuck off, Richie," Natalie glares, but then it falls, and it's replaced with a teasing grin, "He definitely does."

"I heard that! Don't you two have better things to do?" Carmy screams at them.

"Yes, chef!"

Carmy keeps hearing Cicero's 'Uh-oh' throughout the whole day. He understands Cicero, he really does, but to call you a distraction?

His work with The Bear is only starting. They managed to make it to Friends and Family. Now, they have to keep up their best work to fill up the restaurant daily and have a waiting list. His work is far from done. He should listen to Cicero.

Cicero said it with the best of intentions. He doesn't want the Berzatto siblings to fail. He wants to believe they'll succeed and, most importantly, get him his money.

If there is something Cicero has learned throughout the years, it is that girls are distractions. They mean well, but oftentimes, they keep your eyes off the ball. Especially when it's a new relationship like Carmy's. Ultimately, it's up to Carmy to decide what he wants to do. Cicero has played his part by giving him his advice.

One last delivery is made to the restaurant an hour before opening. Richie is the one to receive it and place it in front of Carmy. "She's a keeper, Cousin," he says with a pointed look and a nod. He also wants the best for Carmy, and yet it doesn't align with Cicero.

You knew Carmy would be too stressed and all over the place to eat or drink, so you sent everyone at The Bear a drink and a pastry. One of the cups has Carmen's name with a little heart and 'good luck' written on it.

"Yeah, she is," Carmy sighs, turning the cup in his hands to look at the message. His thumb brushes over your handwriting longingly. Is listening to Cicero the wise thing to do? He's one of the most successful men he knows in his family.

When it's 10 minutes till open, Carmy changes into his uniform and looks in the mirror. His heart is racing, begging for Friends and Family not to be a complete failure. Walking out of the bathroom, Carmy is a man on a mission.

It starts relatively well, but like everything in Carmy's life, the kitchen starts welcoming in the chaos.

They are too slow getting the orders out, which causes Sydney to start doubting herself and asking Carmy to step in. He reassures her she's doing good. They just have to keep up the pace.

Then, one of the new chefs disappears mid-rush. Forcing Tina to work two stations and Marcus to step out of his to help Sydney. Carmy ignores some weird tension between them as he works on ensuring the dishes are good to go.

Next thing he knows, Sugar is rushing into the kitchen, yelling at him about forks. It's wasted time, as he can't do anything about it. A shrill reverberates inside his head as he looks at the ticking clock. It's enough to give him a headache.

With no one to take a dish to its table, Carmy takes it upon himself to do it. There's no time to re-fire or wait for someone. He places it on their table and pours the tea into their cups before retreating with an 'enjoy.'

He looks at his restaurant, and suddenly, the ringing in his head gets louder. Sitting in a booth is his old boss, staring back at him like he did back in New York. Like he was waiting for Carmy to fail.

His voice echoes in Carmy's head. Why are you so fuckin' slow. Hurry up. Go faster motherfucker. Talentless piece of shit.

Right before Carmy spirals, it all goes away. His focus shifts entirely as he sees you taking your seat for the night. The one he chose because he'd be able to see you from the kitchen. You have successfully blocked the mirage he'd conjured up.

You're there with your brother as Richie talks you up, thanking you for coming. As if sensing him, your eyes lock with Carmys. Shyly, you send him a wave, which he returns, thanking you in his head for getting there at the perfect time.

Carmy ducks back to the kitchen with newfound energy. Richie enters shortly after him.

"Chef, your girl is here."

"Thanks, Chef, um, do you have the notepad?" Carmy asks as he continues cleaning dishes and making sure each one is up to par.

"Here you go."

Taking the notepad from Richie, he begins scribbling. I love- No, too fuckin' soon. Thank you for- Nope, it's too stale.

I'm happy you're here, Honey. Wait for me after you're done? -Bear

"Here," Carmy hands it to him without even looking at Richie.

"Keep up the good work, Chefs," Richie yells out to the room before disappearing to the front of the house. The door swinging shut behind him.

"Yes, Chef!"

Something isn't working in the kitchen. They're too backed up, and no matter how hard they try, they're always a tad too slow. Through Sydney surrounding the wheel to Richie, Carmy steals glances out the kitchen window. You're smiling at whatever your brother says, your lips sipping the wine he chose. Carmy can get through this night because, in the end, you'll be waiting for him.

"There he is," you sing as you spot Carmy walking out of the kitchen. The chef's whites back in his locker as he sports his white t-shirt, jeans, and jacket.

Fak, who kept you company while Carmy finished up, speaks up next, "My brother, I'm gonna grab a sandwich and head home. Honey, it was a pleasure meeting you."

"You too, Neil!"

"Thanks for everything," Carmy tells him, giving him a hug and a pat like dudes do.

Carmy turns and grabs your hand to pull you close and kiss your cheek. "What did you think?"

"It was the most delicious thing I've ever tasted," you tell him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

There's a reason Carmy has had so many accolades despite his young age. He has a gift in the kitchen. The moment his food touched your taste buds, your life changed. He and Sydney outdid themselves, and the way everything flowed showed how much work they put into the restaurant.

"You're exaggerating," Carmy modestly says, his arms wrapping around your waist.

"I'm really not," you shake your head, pursing your lips. Carmy can't resist placing a small peck on your red-painted lips.

"What about your famous pizza?"

"No, it might be the best pizza in Chicago, but whatever I ate today topped it," you smile at him, scrunching your nose. "Consider your chef's license reinstated,"

"Thanks," Carmy laughs breathily, "Do you mind if we walk? I feel some of the rush still."

"Lead the way, Mr. Berzatto."

Carmy grabs your hand, leading you to the streets of Chicago. It's silent momentarily as the wind cools Carmy's heated face. He places his hand along with yours into his pocket.

"Did your brother like it?" He asks, breaking the ice.

"Oh yeah. I'm officially like the best sister ever," you respond, squeezing his hand.

You had accidentally forgotten that your brother had passed the Bar exam. So, you didn't have time to get him anything in celebration. You figured dinner at a lovely new restaurant would help while you got him a proper present.

"How did you feel throughout, though? It looked intense." You often found yourself looking through the small glass window into the kitchen. They were always on the move, looking for the next thing to do.

"It didn't just look like it. I'm used to it, though," Carmy admits with a sniff. Everyone's best and worst habits shone through for those couple of hours. It's an environment he's all too familiar with, in and out of the kitchen.

"That rough," you grimace.

"It's fine. We have a lot to work on, but it's a start, and it wasn't entirely terrible," Carmy says, thinking back on tonight. Before coming out to meet you, he wrote down a couple of things to go through with Sugar and Sydney.

"Good, 'cause I hope The Bear sticks around the block," you say, bumping your shoulder with his.

You invite Carmy into your house when you arrive. He takes up your offer, holding your hand to help you balance as you take your heels off. It reminds Carmy he forgot to mention how beautiful you looked today.

He follows you to the kitchen, watching your hips sway and your dress skirt swishing. Padding to the wine fridge, you pick out a bottle of red to celebrate.

Carmy indulges in looking at your legs as you stretch up to reach for the glasses of wine up in your cabinets. His blue eyes darken as your dress hikes up, exposing your pretty thighs.

His gaze darts back up at you when you turn around to place the glasses on the kitchen counter. You hand him the wine opener so he can do the honors because you suck at taking the cork out. It's why you mainly stick to cheaper wines with twist-off caps.

"Here is to The Bear and its amazing owner," you say, lifting your glass in front of you.

"Here's to not fuckin' it up entirely," Carmy follows, making you giggle. Your wine glasses clink, and you take a drink.

Placing the glass back down, Carmy pins you against the counter, his strong hands resting on the edge of it. You look at him through your lashes, a hand coming up to his chest to feel the steady thumping of his heart.

"You look beautiful. I like the dress," Carmy murmurs. It's better late than never.

The dress you wear is a pretty shade of light blue. Simple yet dressy. The neckline gives him a good view of your cleavage and has long sleeves to compensate for the shorter length. They currently cover the goosebumps lining your skin.

"Yeah? I picked it out thinking you might," you reveal, biting your lip. The shade reminded you of his eyes.

"You were right," he whispers, cupping your jaw. As pretty as the dress is, he's sure it'll look so much better on the floor.

Carmy closes his eyes as he leans down to kiss you. He's always struggled with words, so he hopes it's enough for you to catch what he's trying to say.

You smile into the kiss, blindly leaving your glass to the side to be able to touch him. Your palm presses against his chest and taut abdomen. He hides a nice amount of muscle under his t-shirts, a pleasant surprise.

Carmy easily lifts you up to sit down on the kitchen island. He steps between your legs, never breaking the heated kiss. The hands on your waist trail down to your thighs and under your dress. Carmy's tattooed hands squeeze your ass and thighs, earning him a moan from you.

This is the farthest you've ever gotten, and you're more than ready to have all of him. Carmy knows this, which leads to his thoughts getting out of control.

He has to make a decision now. Does he allow himself to be with you, or does he remain by himself like always? Richie's, Sugar's, Cicero's, and Sydney's voices all shout at him different things. Some are in favor, and others are in opposition. 'Uh oh.'

He can't lead you on and sleep with you if he will back out tomorrow. The voices become deafening in an instant, ripping him away from your embrace. His emotions bubbled over and spilled all over the place.

"Wait, stop, I just-" Carmy breathes heavily, taking a couple of steps back from you. Carmy's hand comes up to his forehead as he attempts to organize his thoughts.

"What's wrong?" You ask worriedly. Did you do something wrong?

Carmen's thoughts spill out his mouth without making much sense as he paces in your kitchen. "I can't stop thinking about it and owe it to my team..."

"Carm?" You slide off the kitchen counter, approaching him slowly.

"-keeps saying it's a distraction," he rambles mostly to himself. His heart is pounding painfully in his chest. If he didn't know any better, he'd think he was having a heart attack.

"Hey, hey, hey. What's a distraction?" Softly, you grab onto his arms, stopping him in his tracks, trying to find his lost gaze.

"You. Whatever this is," Carmy breathes, finally meeting your eyes, which he instantly regrets as your eyes turn sad.

The watering of your eyes is unintentional, as is the knot forming in your throat. "You think I'm distracting you?" You question barely above a whisper.

His response is instant, "Fuck, no, the opposite. W-When I'm with you or-or think about you, things get clearer, and it's-it's when I feel the most focused." Carmy holds your shoulders, comforting you because he never meant to hurt you. He can't stand the sad look in your eyes.

Slowly, you begin to piece together his rambling and conclude that other people have been telling him you're a distraction. You wonder if they don't want him to be happy. The Bear is the center of Carmy's life, and before that, it was the restaurant in New York. He deserves more than this crazy job.

"Then fuck what others tell you, Carmen. You deserve to have a life outside The Bear." Maybe you're selfish because you don't want to lose him, but you hope he believes your words.

"I-I don't. I don't deserve all your attention or your affection. I'm nothing special. I don't deserve you." Carmy says, shaking his head with furrowed brows.

Weeks ago, he had no source of enjoyment. He said it himself at the support group. Now, he has you, yet he can't bear the thought of you wanting to be with him. He feels like he's tricking you into a bad deal. That's what he is, though, isn't he? An overachieving fuck up with tons upon tons of baggage.

Carmen Berzatto is an anxious person with too many problems in his life. He has a fucked up family. His mother is a mentally unstable alcoholic. His brother was addicted to painkillers and decided that shooting himself on a bridge was better than living this life. That's without mentioning all the trauma he has from his job and the terrible people he's worked with.

What good does he have to offer you?

"Yes, you do," you reassure him, placing your hands on his cheeks. The cool metal of your rings soothes him somewhat, grounding him. "You deserve all that and more, Carmy. You're so sweet and kind and hard-working. You've been through shit. You deserve something good in life. Maybe it's me, or maybe it's not, but don't close yourself off."

You're begging at this point. Whatever this relationship is, it's just starting. He's not giving himself a chance. You like Carmy so damn much. He's funny without knowing it and thoughtful, too. There are so many qualities he doesn't realize he has.

His eyes watch you as tears line them. He's silently pleading for you to convince him. To get him out of his own head and forget the expectations others have on him.

"I'm not going to force you into anything, Carm. It's your call, but I've enjoyed our last couple of months together. I know we don't know each other completely, but I want to know everything about you. I have feelings for you, so whatever you decide, I'll support it."

Being honest is all you can do at this point. You pour your heart out and hope Carmy chooses you.

You and Carmy stand in the middle of your kitchen. Face to face, reaching out towards each other. It's clear as day that you want the same thing. It's only a matter of taking the right steps now.

"I can't let you go," Carmy responds, grabbing the hand on his cheek. His thumb brushes over the back of it.

"Then don't."

Carmy's decision is made. Without another thought, he smashes his lips against yours. He grabs the back of your neck, tilting your head to meet his heated kiss.

It's more intense now that the cards are on the table. Nothing to hold him back.

Tongues clash together as your bodies seek each other out. The temperature rises when Carmy lifts you up to wrap your legs around his hips. His hands are on the back of your thighs, holding tight onto you.

"Bedroom?" He asks, breaking the kiss, a trail of saliva between the two of you.

"Down the hallway," you breathe heavily, kissing down his neck.

Carmy makes it to the bedroom, opening the door with a bang. He spots your bed, placing you in the middle with him holding himself up on top of you.

He watches as your back meets the bed and your fair fans around you like a halo. The curvature of your breasts accentuated even more from the position.

Carmy hikes your leg further up his hips as he dips down to kiss a wet trail down to the neckline of your dress. He leaves open-mouthed kisses on the rounded flesh, nipping at the skin playfully when you arch your back to push more into him.

"Carmy," you breathe, cupping his jaw to pull him back to your lips. Grinding your hips, you manage to graze against his bulge.

"Shit," Carmy shakily curses, thrusting his hips to meet your touch once more.

Curiously, your hands wander across his body. Carmy's moans in your ear make your panties wetter than they already are.

You grasp the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and off. You're desperate to have him, your cunt aches for him. Your nails scratch down his firm stomach when he bites into your earlobe, softly calling your name.

"Unzip me," you pant, pushing him away and pulling your hair off to the side.

Carmy grabs the small zipper, pushing it down and exposing your pretty skin. As he slides the fabric off of you, he kisses your shoulders and back, taking note of the goosebumps on your skin.

His mind is in the present, and nothing can take it away from him. It's like a switch he managed to turn off in his brain. No more family drama, no more The Bear. It's just you...and him. Honey and Bear.

You stretch your neck to the side, giving Carmy more space to pepper kisses across the delicate skin. The dress pooling at your feet exposes your chest, and Carmy's hands come up from behind you. His fingers shyly brush up your stomach, tickling you, until they find your breasts.

He draws a moan from you as he squeezes them in his palms, pushing you back to meet his chest; turning your head to the side, you find his lips.

The kiss breaks when he slides one of his hands into your underwear, dipping his finger to feel your wetness. Your arm reaches back to dig your fist in his curls.

"You're soaked, Honey," he moans, finding your clit to tease it.

"Been waiting for so long, Carmy," you whine as your hips stutter along with the flicks of his wrist.

"I'm sorry. I'm here now," he purrs into your ear.

Carmy can hear the distinct 'shlick, shlick, shlick' of his fingers against your clit. It spurs him on as he slips a finger into you. He can't wait to have his cock inside of you, snug and warm.

"Oh my god, Carmen," you gasp when he prods another finger into your entrance. Hanging onto his arm across your chest, you roll your hips against his fingers.

"I got you," he says, digging his fingers deeper into you and curling them.

Your knees buckle as the tips of his fingers curl and hit your g spot repeatedly. If it weren't for him, you'd be on the floor. With your tummy tensing under the weight of the pleasure, you stutter out, "I'm gonna cum."

Carmy's hand is wet from your juices as he ups the ante. Just as your walls begin to squeeze around his fingers, he pulls them out to circle around your clit.

"Oh, f-fuck!" You squeal, throwing your head back onto his shoulder.

The way your clit softly twitches under the pads of his fingers fucks with Carmy. It makes his cock throb and leak into his jeans.

Untangling from his embrace, you place a breathless kiss on Carmy's lips. His slick digits dig into your hips as he prolongs it.

Blindly, you find the edge of his jeans and unbutton them. If Carmy notices, he doesn't say anything. You want to give him one more reason to stay with you.

He moans into your mouth when you grasp his length through his boxers. He's rock hard as he desperately ruts against your hand.

With your hold still on him, you push him to sit on the bed. Carmy looks up at you lustfully. You plant a single short kiss on his lips before kneeling on the floor between his legs. You leave love bites down his chest while looking up at him through your lashes.

Carmy brushes away any hair that falls on your face, his blue eyes focused solely on you. When you reach the waistband of his pants, you pull them down along with his underwear.

His length pops up from its confines, slapping against his tummy. Its tip is a pretty pink shade, with a thick length and a slight curve to it. You salivate instantly at the sight of it.

Carmy's nervous under you. It's been a long since he's been with someone else, and he's never been the most confident.

"Relax," you say teasingly, kissing around his lower tummy to calm him.

Finally, your hand wraps around his cock, lightly pumping it. Leaving sloppy kisses down his happy trail, you feel Carmy's stomach taut in anticipation.

It's been so fuckin' long.

With your eyes staring into his hungry ones, you kiss the pink head that glistens with pre, teasingly brushing it against your lips. Keeping eye contact, you lick his length from base to tip. You alternate between kissing and licking for a minute, enjoying watching Carmy squirm.

"Fuck, Honey," Carmy throws his head back at your torturous pace.

"Look at me," you sweetly say.

Taking mercy on him, you part your lips to take his length into your warm, wet mouth, bobbing your head to a steady rhythm. Prying one of Carmy's hands from the bedsheets, you place it in your hair, encouraging him to use you.

"Good girl," he moans, fisting your hair to force you to take more of his cock. You let your hands rest on his thighs, feeling the strong muscles underneath.

Carmen observes you with hooded eyes as you hollow your cheeks, sucking him expertly. He's obsessed with how your lips leave behind a tinge of red lipstick on his skin.

"Shit-Fuck me," he yells into the room when you swallow around him.

You want him to cum, but Carmy has other plans. He doesn't think he'll last long if you make him cum now, so after the stunt you pulled, he pulls you off his sensitive cock.

The sight in front of him is erotic as a string of saliva connects you to his cock. The tears lining your eyes and blushed nose add to that pretty picture.

"c'me 'ere," he says, helping you up and kissing you as he leads you back to the bed. He tugs off your wet panties, throwing them somewhere in the room.

You lay back on your pillows with Carmy slotted between your legs. It's torture having him so close and yet so far. Now that you've gotten a taste of his cock you need more.

Carmy touches the inside of your thighs, inching his way closer to your cunt. He instantly notices how fuckin' wet you are. You're dripping even more than before.

"Sucking me off, got you this wet, princess?" He asks, leaning his forehead against yours.

"Mhm, Carmy, wish you would've cum in my mouth," you admit, tilting your head up to brush your lips against his.

"You have such a dirty fuckin' mouth," he chuckles darkly.

Where did this side of you come from? You're usually so sweet and delicate. He should've known you would be a freak in bed. To think he almost let this all go.

"Carmen, please."

"Please, what?" Carmen teases, lining his cock against your opening, wetting his cock.

"Fuck me," you moan, kissing his jaw.

"'m gonna fuck you good, princess," he promises, with a shaky nod before he remembers, "Fuck! I-I don't have a condom with me."

"I should have some in my drawer," you mention breathlessly.

Carmy opens the condom in record time but is surprised when you take it from his hands and roll it down his shaft yourself. You just want an excuse to keep touching him.

With your leg hiked up, he aligns himself and slowly pushes in. You both gasp at the sensation. Carmy, for one, is trying to not bust a nut so soon because you're so tight and warm.

Meanwhile, you hold onto Carmy's back as he stretches you out. It's been so long, and your toys aren't nearly as thick as him. You breathily moan in his ear, which he takes as a good sign as he begins thrusting more forcefully and deeper.

Carmy hopes this isn't a dream, and if it is, he hopes he doesn't wake up anytime soon. He has one hand holding onto your thigh and the other holding himself up. His gold chain dangles above you as he picks his head up from its spot on your shoulder. You take the chance to tug on it, returning his attention to your lips.

"You feel so fuckin' good, princess," Carmy groans, squeezing your thigh.

"I love your cock, Carmy," you whine, feeling the drag of his cock on your walls. The pleasure is all-consuming, leaving a fuzzy feeling in your brain.

"You like when I fuck you like this?"

"Yes, yes, yes, keep going."

His hips snap hard against yours, hitting that spot each and every time. His pelvis hitting your clit. He squeezes your thigh, hips, and sides before his hand squeezes your tits, too, playing with your nipples.

Suddenly, he straightens up, pulling you down the bed to have you flushed against his pelvis. He's a sight for sore eyes that forces you to keep your eyes open.

His thrusts are more forceful like this, where he digs his fingers into the fat of your hips to pull you towards him with each snap. It makes your tits bounce, hypnotizing him.

Through your lustful gaze, he looks like a marble statue. His chest glimmers under the lowlights of your room as sweat clings to him, his chain jumping against the blushed skin of his chest, and his fucking hair falling over his pretty eyes. The set of his jaw could've been sculpted by Michaelangelo himself.

Your hands indulgently reach down to touch him in any way you can. You can only reach his stomach, where a nice pair of abs appear due to the effort.

"You like what you see?" Carmy teases. He's entirely lost on you because otherwise, he wouldn't be as cocky to say that.

"You're so handsome," you pitifully say. Your brain not computing as it should, but how can it when it's being fucked out of you?

Carmy doesn't know how to respond. It's not often he's called handsome or looked at as lustfully as you're looking at him. Thankfully, he doesn't need to say much as your eyes roll back and you squeeze your walls around him.

"Carmy, I'm so close," you pant, trying to find any part of him to hold. He offers you his hand, lacing your fingers together.

"Just a little longer, princess," Carmy groans as you clench around him. "Fuck, don't do that to me."

He glances down at the spot where you and him meet to see a ring of white on the base of his cock. He's enthralled with the way you stretch to accommodate him and the way your pink walls drag along his length when he pulls out. Fuckin' beautiful.

Putting all his knowledge to use, he thumbs your clit, making you jolt. He needs you to cum now, or he won't make it. His balls feel like they're about to burst.

"Carmy," you cry out, tightening the hold on his hand.

You teeter on the edge for only a second until you cum, waves of pleasure washing over you. Carmy curses from above you as your tightening walls choke his cock, making him cum too. He stutters his hips a couple more times, riding out his orgasm.

He leans back down again, catching your lips in a small kiss. His body slowly relaxes against yours as his head rests on your neck, breathing in the scent of sweat and perfume.

"That was good," you breathe heavily, rubbing your hands up and down your back. You're just starting to think clearly.

"Fuckin' amazing," he adds.

There's a beat of silence before you both burst out laughing.

A bubble encases you, and it can't be popped as long as you stay in your bedroom. Carmy doesn't want to leave; it's late already, and in a couple of hours, he has to get up and go to The Bear to repeat the process.

For once, he forgets about that and focuses solely on you. He has a couple of hours to spare. Sleep is overrated.

You face each other on the bed, talking in hushed whispers. Your fingers trace the '773' tattoo on his bicep like you've always wanted to do. It tickles Carmy, so he grabs your hand and kisses your palm.

"Now that I'm thinking about it. I didn't see your tattoo," he whispers to prevent disturbing the peace.

Your face warms at his words. You had forgotten about that. He's seen a lot of you in the past couple of hours. What's a bit more of skin?

"You missed my big bad tattoo?" you joke, poking his nose.

"Show me," he says with a lopsided smile.

You make it dramatic, rolling your eyes and giving him a big sigh. Sitting up on the bed, you peel the bed sheets from your body. Carmy props himself up on his elbow in anticipation.

Right there, on your left side and under the curve of your breast is a small outline of Winnie the Pooh's face. Carmy touches it, biting his lip to hold back a laugh. Unsurprisingly, it's precisely what he expected from you.

A few chuckles pass his lips as he pulls you back into his arms.

"Don't laugh. It made sense at the time," you whine, covering yourself back up.

Carmy pulls you to his chest, kissing your temple, "I'm sure it does. Pooh Bear loves his Honey," Just like he does.

"Exactly! Someone gets it!"

And he does because Carmy, aka The Bear, is quickly falling for his Honey.

A couple of days later, Carmy is back at your house helping you prepare the famous pizza you promised him. He lets you take the lead on everything, preferring to follow your instructions rather than let his mind run wild. It's not like you'll let him do most of the work anyway; it's your recipe, and you're protective over it.

"Can you chop up the veggies?" You ask him as you lay down the dough in a pan.

"Yes, Chef," he nods, kissing your cheek as he digs through your kitchen drawers for a knife.

"Oh, I like the sound of that," you muse, shaking your shoulders as you knead the dough to spread it.

"Don't let it get to your head, Hun," Carmy smiles, slicing the vegetables expertly.

Cooking with Carmy is surprisingly easier than you thought. He's not controlling over the kitchen or judgy. He lets you do your thing in peace, following your orders no matter how strange they might be. This is your kitchen, not his.

As you spread the sauce and cheese over one of the doughs, Carmy gets a call. He wipes his hands with a rag and picks it up. You only hear his side of the conversation.

"No, I'm off tonight. I'm with my girl. Call Sugar. She should be able to help you with that. Great. Thanks."

Carmy had promised himself that he would try to balance it all better. He has his team to help each other out. The Bear is a priority, but so are you because you help him keep whatever sanity he has left.

Carmy hangs up, and when he returns to you, he notices the grin on your lips as you put the toppings he chopped on the pizza.

"What's with the smile?" Carmy stands behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he props his head on your shoulder. Your hair tickles his nose, smelling the notes of coconut of your shampoo he digs his head farther into it.

"I'm your girl?" You ask, the smile still present on your face. He'd missed your initial reaction when you heard him call you 'my girl.' You almost dropped the container of pepperoni that was in your hands. It's a shock cause he never asked you to be his girl.

Carmy pauses and tenses up against you. "Uh, yes? Hold up. Turn around," he orders, as he places his hand on your hips to turn your body around.

"Yes, chef," you respond cheekily, your arms around his neck, careful not to touch his sweater with your messy hands.

"Aren't you my girl?" He frowns, rubbing a thumb over your hips.

"I could be, but I don't remember you asking," you pretend to think.

Carmy never directly asked you to be his girlfriend, and you never asked him to be your boyfriend. You might as well be a couple since you've been dating long enough. You decide to seize the opportunity now to get it out of him. Having a proper anniversary day would be nice because you hope this lasts.

"I see, my mistake," Carmy nods, catching your vibe, "Honey…"

"Yes, Carmy?" You blink innocently at him.

"Would you do me the honor of becoming my girlfriend?" He finally asks.

You could joke around but decided against it cause the moment is perfect, "I'd love to," you nod, giving him a small kiss.

When the pizza is cooked, you bring it over to the dining table. Serving Carmy a pretty slice. Excitedly, you wait for him to bite into it and taste it.

"What do you think?" You ask expectantly.

"You were right. Best pizza in Chicago," Carmy agrees with an unbelievable laugh. He's got a lot to learn from you. It's the truth, or maybe he's blinded by his feelings. Only time will tell where you and Carmy will end up.

The End?

thank you guys for pulling through and reading! i know it's a slow burn but i hope you liked it! i certainly enjoyed writing it even though it took me like 4 months.

if you liked it, i would appreciate you liking it, commenting or reblogging. if you have some feedback feel free to send it my way too. i wanna get better at this whole writing thing!

thank you! bye xx

#carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #fanfiction #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fanfiction #the bear fanfiction #the bear #carmy x reader #carmy x you #carmy x fem!reader

[ghostarii]

CAN’T TAKE MY EYES OFF YOU ! ～ JING YUAN . ❛ i want your bliss on bliss; a little company!

˖ ⁺ ⫾  CONTENT WARNING fem!reader ❱ golf dad!jing yuan ❱ dilf!jing yuan ❱ groping ❱ praise ❱ breeding kink ❱ size kink ❱ perv!jing yuan ❱ PWP!!!!! ❱ age gap ❱ cunnilingus ❱ multiple orgasms ❱ pussy drunk!jing yuan ❱ locker room sex ❱ jy’s kinda gross ❱ coercion ❱ creampie & unprotected sex (pls stay safe) ❱ pet names (mostly pretty [girl] & little one ❱ dubious consent ❱ dirty talk ❱ not proofread in the slightest ❱ minors and dc antis do not interact.

˖ ⁺ ⫾  TIP i’ve had this idea floating around in my wee wittle brain for quite some time so here’s perv golf dilf jing yuan ! ! i didnt rlly have a plot for this nor an idea on how to execute the vibe in my mind so truly i apologize if this is not that good :’( this got way messier than intended n i took forever writing it cause i kept getting stuck. i rlly rushed this toward the end cause i rlly wanted to post it so i rlly hope u guys like it 😿 rbs n feedback is always greatly appreciated <33 (pls don’t report i worked rlly hard on this n comm guidelines r so mean)

˖ ⁺ ⫾  GB 7.2k+ words .

JING YUAN CAN’T help it. He doesn't know what drives him to do it; to stare at you until holes are burned in you or touch you carelessly or talk about you like you're a piece of meat, he can't help it. It's akin to a primal urge, or manly instinct that makes him defile you disgustingly and unapologetically—and it makes him feel like a gross teen boy whose dick grows hard at the simple mention of women, but it's something about this aura of naivety and peace that swarms you that brings this carnal desire out of him. You’re the perfect prey, helpless, unsuspecting, and trusting of the ill-intended, hungry predator. Everything makes his heart flutter and his stomach gnarl—he turns into a different man because of you.

Friendly, neighborhood, retired Army General and current Xianzhou Police Chief Jing Yuan was a mask to cover perverse, snobby, and icky pervert Jing Yuan; the one who got a kick at making you do silly tasks so he can stare up your skirt and who always told you to take a seat so he can press up on you and grope you indistinctly. He sees you and immediately a deviant fire is kindled in his chest, his cheeks heat up and his skin runs cold. It's nasty, but he can't help it.

He needs you selfishly. He can't stand to watch you talk to other men and tend to their needs—sure, it's your job to pour them lemonade and escort them to the spa and guide them around the country club for a look at all the activities, and he respects that you're a hard and diligent worker, but seeing you with other men boils his blood. It's as if the lines between reality and his fucked up fantasy world have blurred, and you belong to him, you're his woman and he stakes his claim on you like a wild animal. Jing Yuan likes how you don't question how he suddenly needs your assistance, and that it's impossible for anyone but you to do it, because it lets these other men know that you respond to him. He's never felt this way about a woman before, not even the mother of his own child, so it means you're special. You mean much deeper to him than you could ever understand and all he wants is your company and to love you down into the cage of his heart.

It's not a crime to have a crush. It's not a crime to be in love with a woman you barely know. And it's not a crime to imagine her stuffed with your kids after watching her interact with yours. A crime? No. Weird? Maybe; but Jing Yuan does it anyway.

On the occasion when he brings Yanqing to the club, he gets on his best behavior. They play friendly games of golf and lounge about in the garden area, and eat up a storm in the illustrious dining hall—normal father-and-son things. Nothing out of the ordinary, people wouldn't even know that all Jing Yuan could think about was you and how sweet your pussy must taste as he eats ice cream with his son. He stays on his best outward behavior, truly—you wouldn't have even known he was in the bathroom jerking off because something about you today set him off.

He walks into the dining hall, looking around to see you. Yanqing had run off to the pool ages ago, so Jing Yuan had some time to himself…or, rather, time for you and him. He thought about how he would take you and claim you for far too long now. He thinks about it too much, actually. And that’s insane; considering the fact that you only started working at Stargazer Navalia Country Club two months ago.

He goes to his usual spot: against the wall on the northeastern side of the hall. It's slightly tucked away, the ceiling lights on that side are dim and the roaming eyes of others are limited. It's perfect for him when he touches you and even more perfect to convince you to have a seat and chat with him. You always listen, always fall for his lonely old man act, even though you've seen him with his snob friends Luocha and Dan Feng, and he's more than well-known around the community—he’s far from lonely, but his lips utter such pitiful deception that you can't help but spare him some of your company.

Jing Yuan has been doing this for a few weeks. He’ll invite you over for a refill of the house's special lemonade, sipping the juice as soon as you finish pouring, letting his lips smack obnoxiously, his tongue running across his top lip, and muttering out an “Ahh, so sweet…”, keeping eye-contact with you. His plump, rosy lips will break into a smile at your widened eyes and flustered expression, and that's when he asks you to stay. “Wouldn’t you give me a moment of your time? C’mon…call it…customer service.”

Usually, he’ll sit across from you and ask about your day. He’ll listen to your short spiels about your coworkers or your university and even your extremely personal information about your family and friends. It's cute how you open up with abandon, and he likes how apologetic you get when you feel like you’ve spoken too much. He’ll reach across the table and tap your pouted lips, “It’s okay, sweetheart. Keep going,” and he stares at your lips as you talk his ear off. But today—today, Jing Yuan is pushing the limits.

He invited you over, and instead of you sitting across from him, he pulls the chair next to him. Your proximity is close, no closer than ever before, but close enough that you feel like he can hear your heartbeat. He drapes a buff arm around the back of your chair, the pads of his fingers just barely ghosting over your biceps. He takes a deep breath, presumably to settle into his seat but actually to breathe you in. You smell sweet. He wonders if you taste sweet.

“How was your day?” the man starts. It's okay, it's fine, it’s just Jing Yuan—he’s fine! You nod your head, “Okay…not too eventful but um…kind of busy.” He immediately replies “Yeah? Tell me about it.”

Your shift started at eleven o'clock this morning, and you clocked in slightly late earning your managers, Ms. Yukong, mouthful of scolding. “Again? This is the third time in a row…” She was a strict woman. Yukong was adamant about running an establishment—not a job. In her mind, there's a distinct difference, a fine line that separates Stargazer Navalia Country Club from other leisure resorts, and that line was drawn by poise, professionalism, and punctuation—the three Ps. You essentially lacked all of that. You’re always late, and if you’re not late, you’re just barely making it, you run around a lot and don't collect yourself. Oftentimes, you take on too much than you can handle and overwhelm yourself, making a fool of yourself before the very opinionated eyes of the patrons. And you were clumsy. The country club was your first service job and your first job ever. You wouldn't have gotten the job if your parents didn’t force independence upon you and you complained to your friend, Tingyun, about your unfair predicament, and she promised to put in a good word for you to her boss. That good word was a basket full of fabrications and exaggerations. Yukong told you that you were fortunate to be allowed to work at the club, but it was hanging in the balance if you didn’t step up your game.

Jing Yuan hadn’t expected a full rant, but he was glad that you felt like you could talk to him. He wants to hold you, tell you that Yukong is a miserable bitch and she doesn't know what the hell she's talking about. You can't do any wrong—that woman wouldn’t know poise, professionalism, and punctuation if it slapped her across the face, so who was she to criticize perfection?

He gets even more upset when your chest starts to heave and you’re blinking back tears, explaining how you cried after leaving Yukong’s office and felt so useless and stupid. And you made it your mission today to do your best. No overworking, no clumsiness, and no more strikes earned. Your head was on a dart board, and Yukong was aiming at the bullseye.

You told him you just wanted to be good. To be worth something because you aren't incompetent. If only you knew how he saw you.

Tears run down your warm cheeks and your frowned lips curve into a sad smile, a laugh escaping as you pat away tears from your eyes. “Sorry, I don’t mean to cry…”

“…I should be getting back to work…” You move to get up but Jing Yuan stops you, his big hand on your thigh. This isn't new, but your eyes meet and you almost burst into tears again. Your lips frown up again and quiver and your eyes gloss over—oh, you poor thing. He squeezes your thigh as if to tell you you’re okay, but when that doesn't seem to stop the tidal wave of tears from beating at the barrier of your blinking eyelids, he pulls you in.

It's a hug. You've hugged people before. You do it all the time. Even to him—you’ve hugged Jing Yuan before, but this? This is different. He cradles the back of your head as you rest your cheek on his shoulder and he kisses your hair softly. He’s warm, like the summer heat, and your body feels like it’s on fire. His fingers stroke at your hair as if he was trying to soothe your feelings, and it works, you sniffle and softly whimper, curling your fingers against his thighs. He's taking care of you and if only you could understand what you’re doing to him. His cock is slowly growing stiffer and heat lights beneath his skin as it does yours. You feel so weak and small in his hold and God, is it doing something to him. Your breathing brushes your tits against his side and he wants to feel them pressed against his chest as he pounds into you. Your sniffles and tears that form small puddles on his shirt make him think about how you would cry from overstimulation and his big cock stretching you out.

He needs to get a grip. To stop his gross thoughts but it's no use when your entire existence is an aphrodisiac to him. It was a short hug, no longer than a minute, but it felt like it lasted a lifetime. When you pull away, Jing Yuan can't look at you. He can't look at your flushed cheeks, glossy eyes, clumped lashes, and pouted lips—he can’t look because he won’t be able to contain himself. You clear your throat and sit up, wiping your eyes and smudging your cheap mascara. He’s slightly upset that you’re leaving already, so before you go, he pinches the hem of your shirt, pulling you back.

“It's gonna be okay, little one. Have a good day.” He pats your head and smiles at you. You get flustered and quickly nod, running off as if to disappear.

You find it hard to have a good day when you’re wrapped up in your head, thinking about Yukong, yourself, and Mr. Jing Yuan. He was a nice man, sometimes too nice and you were unsure if that was a negative or a positive.

His touches feel like they’re burned into your skin. When you think about his tight, warm, and world-erasing hug, your skin tingles and births goosebumps to the surface. When you think about his deep, reverberating voice praising you and denying the existence of imperfection in you, you run hot. It’s a dangerous juxtaposition that left you an unfocused mess, productivity being the last thing of your concern. How bothered your body felt was in big bold letters in your brain, and it was hard to not prove Yukong’s harsh words about you right. You needed to get it together, but it was hard when Jing Yuan lingered in your mind like a deadly plague.

You catch Tingyun up during your dishes duty, scrubbing the dirtied plates, bowls, spoons, and forks and passing them to the girl to be dried. She laughs at you, shaking her head as she spins her hand around the inside of the porcelain bowl. “Can I be honest with you?” You nod at Tingyun’s question, “his intentions are less than pure. He’s nice and all but I think you should create boundaries. I don't like how every time you tell me about him he's grabbing on you and stuff…”

You have an issue with seeing the best in people. You can’t see anybody as evil—their actions don’t define their character in your mind and that's a fatal flaw. You shake your head at Tingyun’s words, smiling, “I don’t agree. He’s just…I don’t know.” you shut the water off, and set down the plate in your hand. “I think he’s just lonely—”

“—He has friends. His golfing buds…?” She points out. You sigh and shake your head. “Yeah, but they don't come to the club often.”

Tingyun rolls her eyes. “Can you be for real? What company can you provide to a man who’s nearly double your age?”

On that front, Tingyun had a point. You’re still in college, barely coasting your way through your third year and Jing Yuan is in his mid-to-late thirties, pushing forty. He was a dad and you were a student. He lived his life—he’s on his second career, and you’ve only just barely begun working your first job. You never knew what to talk to him about and you never understood what he talked about. There was a disconnect, but you felt like that didn't impede the slight friendship you had. “He just needs someone to talk to!”

“Didn't know talking included his hands on your ass but okay.” Her snide remark makes you frown. He wasn’t all that bad. Tingyun didn't get it.

Her eyes immediately meet yours and she softens. “Sorry.” You nod to her apology, cutting the tap back on and resuming your work. You didn't like to be judgemental and you wanted to give Jing Yuan the benefit of the doubt. He wasn’t all that bad and you liked him—for the most part. She pats your shoulder softly. She does mean well. “Just be safe, okay?”

“You never know what’s going on in someone's head.”

It’s so hot. The weather forecast called for unbearable heat and ungodly levels of humidity. The sun was angry at the world, shining down harshly and roasting your skin. Surprisingly, the club had seen the most members today. It was filled to the brim, bustling and condensing heat at every corner that you couldn’t escape.

Your uniform was dripping in sweat and it was sticking to your skin. Your hair, pulled away from your face, felt like it was dripping onto your shoulders. You were hot. And luckily for you, Qingque had taken off from work today due to the heat, leaving her shift open. You swooped in and took the role, slipping off your uniform when the clock hit 2:30 and sliding into the lifeguard swimsuit. It was tight fitting but comfortable and paired with the visor blocking the mean sun from your face, you felt fine.

Lathering a security layer of sunscreen onto your skin, you make your way to the pool, reciting Yukong’s words in your head. You had met with her at the beginning of your shift where she told you this was your last chance. Lifeguarding wasn’t some fun easy-money task. Screwing around the way you usually do could be at the cost of someone’s life and she wouldn’t put anyone at risk. At all. So you go with your head up and a warm smile, climbing up and sitting down with a hawk eye on the pool.

The water was clear blue and rippling. Bare flesh and bright swimsuits are blurred and hazy under the surface of the water. It’s a nostalgic scene, sweet chatter and giggles from the playing children, splashing water, and pattering wet feet on the hot pavement work together to induce peace upon you. This is a scene you could get used to, especially when Jing Yuan emerges from the water.

He looks divine. His upper body is exposed, large muscles flexed as he lifts his body weight from beneath the water, resting on the edge of the pool. His water-darkened hair slumps heavily in his ponytail, flipping over as he shakes his head, ridding of the water. And the water spills down his skin deliciously, thick droplets pathing down his body. It’s a sight to behold and you can't help but stare.

Jing Yuan wonders if this is how you feel. Ogled and objectified down to the bone. Your shade-hidden eyes bore into him when they should be watching the children. But he likes it. He feels like today is going to be a good day.

He comes to the pool often, usually just watching Yanqing show him his “tricks”, but he notices the order. The lifeguards cycle every forty-five minutes. He noticed it the first time when one of them took off immediately after jumping in after a panicking Yanqing, but today it was going to come to his aid. Today was the day. He’d waited too long, thought about it too hard…Jing Yuan’s fantasy world was going to pour into reality. That in itself was a terrible horror.

He waits patiently for forty-five minutes. Splashing water with his son occasionally, stepping out of the pool for a rest, or waving at you as he floats atop the water. Forty-five minutes. Tick tock.

He stops you on your way inside. His towel was thrown over his shoulder and his wet hair slung up into his fixed ponytail. You’re so enthralled by his state that you aren't taking into consideration the lazily fabricated lie that he needed your urgent attention to. You were no dummy. Jing Yuan is an overly attractive man, but he was out of your league and the father to a boy only seven years younger than you. Your lives were incompatible and frankly, he wasn't what you were looking for. Attractive? Yes. Boyfriend material? Not so much.

Regardless, you follow him to the locker room to look for his supposed missing watch. You ask him where his locker is located and he points around the corner, “125D.” His locker is tucked off around the corner, deep in the row and far from anyone’s initial line of sight. You see his golf bag resting against the wall and Yanqing’s goggles on the bench and make your way to it, “Where did you last have the watch?”

This was way out of your jurisdiction, and, besides, he was the police chief—what the hell could you do to help him find a missing watch? Nonetheless, you listen intently as he provides the details: he took it off to go swimming, placed it on the shelf in the locker, and came back to find it missing. You nod slowly, diligently looking through the slim locker. There’s not much in it and not much space a watch could slip through, so you’re confused. It's clearly not here. “I don't think I can be much help for you, you’re better off checking with whoever was in here last.”

And then his body is close to you. Your proximity thickens with the chlorine and sandalwood scent he carries, and his broad form towers over you. Your breath hitches and your body tenses as a large hand lays against the back of your thigh, running up your bare skin until it meets the curve of your ass. He doesn't say anything. Neither do you. You feel like you’re frozen, stuck beneath him, and that only urges him further.

His other arm wraps around your waist and he pulls you in, resting his chin on your shoulder and breathing you in with a deep breath. You can feel his exhale on your neck and you shudder, pushing away to create distance. Jing Yuan only tightens his big grip on you, “I want you…” he murmurs, leaning into your neck. His lips ghost over your skin and you squirm, trying to wriggle out of his grasp. This can't be happening. Not here. Not now.

You try to tell him that but it's futile. He presses his slightly chapped lips against your neck in fluttery kisses, wrapping his lips around nips of skin every now and then and leading a path to your collarbone. He steals a look at you from the side, “Tell me you don't want this and I'll stop.”

He now frames your body beneath his, pressing you against the cold lockers. You wince at the harshness of how he handles you—how his hands incessantly run up and down your body and gropes your assets and how he grinds his dick against your ass. He breathes heavily against you, grunting and growling in your ear as he edges himself closer and closer to the brink of losing control.

You try to speak up. To tell him you can't do this and that here is not the place. But you part your lips to object, only for a whimper to escape in its place. You’re shaking your head no but it opposes the sounds that leave you and the subconscious grind back of your hips. Jing Yuan uses his right hand to cup your pussy with a hardened gaze watching your reaction: your eyes widen and then squeeze shut, and you roll your lips inward, pressing them shut. He feels a slight throb when he presses his fingers against your sex, and the heat that radiates from you is all telling. “Stop fighting it…don’t deny it…you need me to take care of you.”

Kisses on your neck resume as he rubs your clothed clit, using the way your knees buckle as leverage to slightly bend your over, grinding into you rougher. “Can't you feel how hard you make me, baby? Fuck,” he whispers, his grinding now turning into desperate rutting. “Indulge me, just a little…say yes…”

You’re shaking your head no, fighting his words. You think that if you close your eyes hard enough you’ll wake up in the real world and this will have all just been in your head. The sight of the lockers in front of you dispels that thought instantly. You fight against your own body, swallowing down the sounds of pleasure that rumble in you at his touch. You promised Yukong you would do a better job. You liked working here. If she found out you had sex with a customer during work hours in the public locker room, she’d have your head on stake. But God, he knew what he was doing. It’s like Jing Yuan knows how to get into your head. All of his innuendos day in and day out, his flirtatious banter, and his wandering eyes the past few months have been test runs on you that he’s conducted for his fucked up memory log. So he could prepare for this moment. So he knew how to make you weak and make you succumb to his advances. You were a nice girl with a hard time saying no. You always indulged his requests and always did what was told to you. His constant “Say yes, baby. Say it. You know you want this,” in your ear was persuasive enough for your weak resolve. Soon enough, you’re quietly parroting his words.

“Y-yes…I…I want it,” you huff out, and he stops.

Jing Yuan lets you go—pulling off of you and spinning you around. Then, he’s swiftly pushing you against the lockers, caging you in with his big arms on either side of you. His golden eyes are richer, darkened with fantasy and lust as they bore into yours. His rosy lips curve into a sinister smirk, “Look me in my eyes and say you want me to fuck you.”

Your eyes meet, locking with each other softly. You’re telling yourself in your head that you can say no, but your mouth moves first, “I want you…to…” you grow shy at the words, and Jing Yuan smiles at you. He steps closer, grabbing your chin softly and your waist with his free hand, pulling you in. “Sweet girl…” he mumbles, brushing his lips against yours and bumping your noses.

Your kiss is sweet. It's the type of fairytale kiss, the type of wonderful kiss that whips the air out of you and has fireworks blowing in your pretty little head. Your lips mold and work together, and he takes his time getting acquainted with your mouth. He waits until you part your lips on your own to invade your mouth, and even then, he tenderly explores the cavern. He kisses you with dominance and experience. He kisses you with passion and desire. He kisses you like he’s in love with you.

You wrap your hands around his neck, pulling him into you, chasing his kiss as if he was trying to leave you. It begins to heat up. Impatience grows like mold between the two of you, you begin to want and need each other more. His hand gripping your chin wraps briefly around your neck to pull you closer, and his hand around your waist moves to your ass, cupping a cheek in his palm and roughly squeezing. He sucks on your tongue, moaning deeply into your mouth. Teeth start to clash and tongues start to bump and spin, spit dribbling out of your mouths. He bites onto your bottom lip as he pulls away, and then catches the drool running down your face with his tongue, running back up on its path to your mouth. With your saliva on his tongue, he kisses you harshly one last time—a kiss that makes you lean your head against the lockers behind you, giving him access to the expanse of your neck.

He admires the hickeys he already left, kissing them tenderly before leaving a few more. His teeth drag on your neck, and he's pulling the straps of your swimsuit down your arms. It's agonizingly slow and you look away, not able to face him as he unveils your body to him.

It's like a dream. Even better than. All of his fantasies and perverted thoughts haven't done any justice to how you look—the most perfect, pretty boobs with hard nipples that are begging to be played with, the most gorgeous frame that pops even more without your clothes, your dips and curves begging to be filled by his grip, and your pretty pussy, which he takes his time getting to and unveiling. He gets on his knees, kisses your soft thighs, and slowly pulls your swimsuit down to your ankles. You try to hide, feeling vulnerable and anxious in your fully naked state but he pulls your legs apart, kissing the inside of your thigh. “You’re beautiful…”

“Prettiest thing I've ever seen…” he says, trailing up your legs. He doesn't give you time to fall into your mind. He exhales deeply, letting the air from his nose blow against your pussy. You squirm but he pulls your legs apart again, looking up at you as he places a chaste kiss on your slit.

You’re already wet, susceptible to his touch, and fragile. You slightly leak past your labia and his lips shine in your slick. Eye contact remains as he licks your arousal off his lips, swallowing your taste with a satisfied hum. “So sweet, too. Better than I ever imagined.”

Something about his admission flusters you. You knew he enjoyed your company, but you didn't know he put thought into you this way. It flatters you, to say the least, and your body responds in a very telling way: your clit throbbing and hole clenching in need.

Jing Yuan smiles at how you can't hold eye contact with him and how you look down at him with urging eyes. Your body gives him the okay your mouth fails to do, and he dives in, wedging his tongue between your folds to lick a thick stripe. You gasp loudly and slam your palm against the locker behind you, seemingly caught off guard by his action. And then he does it again. This time, making his way to your clit slowly, only to circle around the bud but not pay it any attention. And again, this time only lightly flicking your clit with his tongue and ghosting over it but ultimately focusing on collecting your sweet juices, slurping it down with an obnoxious volume.

Your position is fixed—you’re stuck. Your legs are draped over his shoulders as you basically sit on his face, and he holds you tightly by your soft thighs. Your gaze is filed unto each other, unmoving, and he watches with glee at how you react when he finally gives your clit attention. He wraps his lips around the bud, sucking it into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it. You practically burst into tears. You moan out, immediately threading your fingers in his white locks. “Oh, fuck,”

He abuses your clit until your voice goes hoarse. He doesn't care that people could probably hear you. He wants them to. He wants them to hear his name flow from your mouth like syrup out of a maple tree—thick in lust and fatally sweet. Your moans sound even prettier in reality. Jing Yuan has come to the conclusion that you are one of a kind. No wild or active imagination could do you justice. He could eat you out for days—you’re just so sweet and so easy to please. Your clit getting sucked on sets you off and when he runs his thick tongue through your sloppy folds to collect your stream of arousal, you whine even louder, competing with his slurping and licking noises.

“I want you to cum on my tongue, pretty girl,” he says, pulling away from your folds. “Wanna taste all of you,” and he presses a kiss to your clit. You suck your bottom lip between your teeth, nodding rapidly, “Please! Wanna cum so bad…”

He’s determined now. Like a man starved, he practically feasts on you. His tongue is everywhere—licking and swirling from every direction and it drives you insane. You can feel the burning tension in your gut churn and to egg its release out of you, you toy with your nipples, resting your head against the lockers as ecstasy overcomes you. You whine and whimper out meek little “Yes!”’s and “Oh, God!”’s like those are the only words you know, feeling your orgasm so close that it heats your skin to the touch.

Your back arches and eyes blow wide, your body fighting against itself. You trap his head between your thighs but push his head away, damn near screaming at the top of your lungs that it's too much and you can't take it. This pushes Jing Yuan to do more, to tighten his hold on your thighs and suffocate himself in your pussy. Knock the tip of his nose against your puffy clit and probe your clenching hole with his tongue. His jaw hurts but he keeps it up well, humming and moaning endlessly to send warm vibrations through your skin. His name breaks off of your tongue so weakly and your head feels light. It's like something in you snaps, like all composure and decency melts off of you in an instant. You could care less about Yukong or anybody else for that matter. This entire room could cease to exist and it wouldn't matter because Jing Yuan has blasted you off to cloud nine. The feeling of his tongue swimming through your folds is pleasure in its purest form and it pushes you to the deep end, drowning you in overwhelming ecstasy.

The grip you have on his hair tightens and you pull the long locks as if it’d stabilize you from the wreckage your pending orgasm was bringing upon you. A silent moan falls from your lips, followed by an airy plea, “J-Jing Yuan, please..!” Your voice falters and falls into another broken moan. Your back arches yet again and your hips buck into his face, and there it is. That tight band in your stomach snaps and your orgasm wracks through you roughly. Your thighs shake and your chest heaves heavily—you feel like you can't breathe. And he doesn't let up, wrapping his lips around your sensitive clit for the harshest suck of the night, humming happily as you squirm and spasm in his hold.

You come undone, dripping down his face like a rushing waterfall. He cleans you up with his tongue, continuing to help you come down from your high even as you whimper and sniffle from overstimulation. With peppery kisses, he pulls away from your pussy, licking his lips clean and rolling his eyes at your taste. “You did so good for me, baby.”

A carnal glint shines in his eye as he takes your waist in his hands, pulling you into him for a kiss. Your lips connect with fervor. He immediately establishes dominance, invading your mouth with hunger and greed. Your teeth clash and knock and your tongue is bullied by his. Your taste on his mouth is strong and it's hard to ignore it, and on him, it tastes wonderful. Your legs are jelly, useless. He holds you up with his hands but ultimately decides to press you against the lockers once again, grinding his painfully aching hard-on onto your thigh. No. This can't happen. The longer you're in the locker room with him, the more risk that's run. People are going to start leaving the club soon, and you don't know what you’d do if they caught you like this.

You try to push him away but he only presses into you more, rutting against you more desperately and aggressively. You gave him an inch, and now he's going to take a mile.

He growls against your lips before pulling away, resting his forehead on yours. “Gotta have you, baby,” he starts, pulling down his swim trunks. His hard cock jumps out, leaking and hard and so thick it makes your eyes bulge out of your head. You can't do this. You open your mouth to protest but he just kisses you again, shutting you down instantly. He takes your hand in his, bringing it down to his dick, and forces you to hold his girth in your hand. He's heavy and hard. Two prominent veins bulge and throb and his angry tip spills milky beads of precum into a pool in his slit. He makes you jerk him off, groaning into your mouth deeply, “Fuck. Need you so bad, little one. Need your sweet little pussy wrapped around me, need to feel you, to fill you—oh, fuck. Let me? Give me that, please.”

He practically begs you. He ruts into your hand and speaks into your mouth like a bitch in heat—you’re finding it hard to deny him. And he keeps begging. Keeps nipping at your lips and swiping your jaw now and then with his tongue. He's desperate. And you feel like you have no choice. “…Okay.”

Jing Yuan doesn't notice the uncertainty in your tone. He nearly jumps for joy, kissing you so passionately and hooking his hands on your ass, hoisting you up into the air. You squeal and he laughs, kissing you again as he properly positions his tip at your entrance. “Been thinking about this since I first laid eyes on you,”

As he starts talking, he slowly slides you down on his length. You gasp and wince—he’s so fucking big. Your nails immediately dig into his shoulders and you try to brace yourself, but good God, it’s like he’s splitting your body into two. He slowly sinks in, kissing your cheeks and mumbling praises that don't do much to ease the burn of the stretch. You almost want to stop, but he's like a brick wall. Impossible to get through.

“You’re so tight…” He feels like he’s breaking you in. Like you’re untouched and not prepared to take him and it sets him off. Your whimpers are sweet and the way you hug him like you're scared to let go ignites that all-too-familiar carnal flame. He wants to ravage you. It takes a few moments but he finally bottoms out with a deep groan. “So tight…so wet…fuck, it's like you’re made for me.” He does an experimental thrust and his heart swells at how you moan into his ear and clench around him tighter. “Taking me so well,”

This starts a rhythm of slow thrusts, the two of your bodies getting to know each other. Jing Yuan is so big and he feels even bigger inside of you. Your cunt feels like it's being reformed in its shape, stretching around him widely to accommodate every bit of him. And your pussy around him was so worth the wait. Your gummy walls welcome him with a tight, warm hug, and you leak down his length unabashedly. The combination of your arousal and his slow thrusts get you two acquainted quickly, and he steadily starts to pick up the pace.

Jing Yuan has shortly found his rhythm. He thrusts up into you while simultaneously maneuvering your hips down and you’ve never felt anything like this before. He pounds you. Hard. Rough. And slowly gains speed. His heavy balls slap at your ass and your puffy clit kisses his pelvis and it all makes you weak. You bury your head into his neck and pull him closer to you, feeling enveloped in his strong hold. How he's easily able to hold you up and fuck you the way is he makes your stomach churn and knot. There's a rhythmic slapping that coordinates with his grunts and your cries and it's so loud and lewd, you’re sure the whole country club knows what you're doing. But it doesn't bother you. Because yet again, Jing Yuan works your body like an expert, plunging into your depths so well that you can't do anything but clench and drip around him like a broken faucet.

His hands are on your ass, squeezing and slapping your cheeks to make you squeal out, practically yelling his name for the masses. It all feels too good. He knows what he's doing—how to angle his hips and find your G-spot almost instantly and abuse it until you feel like your brain has melted into mush, how to mix the pain of his calloused hands slapping your ass sweetly with the pleasure he bestows upon you, how to sweet-talk into your ear and flatter you so well that butterflies are born in your tummy and your hole clenches even tighter around him. He's experienced. He's taking your body on a trip it's sure to never forget and never replicate, and you wish you knew how he did it, because he’s only been thrusting into you for a few minutes and you feel like you're about to explode.

He's now pounding into you more furiously, and you chalk that up to his orgasm approaching him as well. “I'm gonna cum again—!” you announce, voice low in a broken whisper. His thrusts get sloppy and he grunts to concur, “Me too—look at me,”

Your eyes meet and this might be the rawest moment you've ever had with Jing Yuan. There's nothing but passion and adoration in his golden eyes as he looks at you. And as he kisses you for the nth time this evening, it's soft. Kind. A complete one-eighty from how desperately and angrily he bullies his thick cock into your drooling cunt. “Cum with me.” It's more of a demand than a request, but you nod in understanding anyway. You want to feel him throb and empty out his balls inside you. You want to hear his voice crack and break as he moans out your praises. You want to feel him give it to you until he can't anymore.

He snaps his hips into you, hard and one at a time. He goes as deep as possible, making your eyes blow wide and spill tears. He's so deep in your stomach it's almost like he pops the bubble of your orgasm himself, and you're spilling all over him in a matter of seconds. It was unexpected and you drawl out a whiny moan, grinding your hips back onto him subconsciously. Your orgasm makes him follow suit, and soon enough, you're filled to the brim with his semen. Warm ropes mix nastily with your own release and it drips out of your hole as he continues to thrust through your orgasms.

“Oh shit…’s good, little one.” He kisses your cheek and carries you to the bench, laying you down. “One more for me, ‘kay?”

Your mind is lagging behind. You didn't even catch his statement until he was sliding into you again, pressing your hands against your stomach to feel him inside of you. “So deep…”

“Yeah? Feels good, doesn't it?” He wastes no time, not sparing a second to waste. You're still so sensitive, and so is he, and everything is so sloppy. So messy. Your eyes roll to the back of your head when he finds your sweet spot again, and fuck, it feels so good. “‘M not gonna last…”

Jing Yuan basically crushes you against the hard bench, closing the proximity between you two and harboring the flame between your chests. His head in the crook of your neck shakes, “Me neither. Want you to keep it all in.” His pathetic rutting elicits the wettest sounds from your pussy, and the empty locker room echoes it around with bass. He runs on and on about stuffing you full, fucking his kids into you and you don't know what at what point that started to sound good to you. Your belly rumbled in that all-too-familiar wait, your orgasm wasted no time in building.

Your eyes start to tear even harder and white blotches soon cover your whole line of sight—but not before Jing Yuan stills inside of you, dumping his second load inside of you with a guttural groan and clench of his abdomen. He rubs rough circles on your clit, murmuring about how you can do it until you clench around him, squirming beneath him as your orgasm hits you again. He doesn't pull out. He keeps you plugged up with his cock, forbidding his cum from leaving you. You didn't expect this to happen. Ever. But Jing Yuan? He always knew. It was just a matter of when.

So when your sight returns and you open your eyes to see him leaning over you, you smile happily. It was almost like you're Cinderella and he's Prince Charming, coming to rescue you from your hellish job in the most unconventional way possible. But unconventional feels good.

He won. No matter what he had to do, he won. His fantasy came to fruition and he would rather nothing else. This moment will be forever cherished, even if the distant opening of the door sounds off, and footsteps rapidly approaching bring you back to reality. He won. And nothing, or nobody, can change that. You’re all his now.

#honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail x reader #honkai x reader #honkai star rail #honkai smut #honkai star rail x you #minors & ageless blogs do not interact. #hsr x reader #hsr smut #hsr jing yuan #hsr x you #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan smut #jing yuan x you #☆. on queue #jing yuan #hsr angst #hsr fanfic #jing yuan imagines

[velvetures]

omg I luv ur writing!!! is it possible to get a story thats like, ghost (or whomever) is stretching and training together but there’s alotttt of sexual tension, and ghost ends up hard and they notice it bc of the position they’re in? (Like he’s restraining reader and his bulge is right in their face😭)

Tension

A/N: I went kinda wild with this one... please excuse my filth. :)

Summary: You've always driven Ghost just short of losing his self-control. Some peeping, close combat training, and seeing you do yoga eventually snaps the fine line warding off the Lieutenant.

T/W's: NS/FW 18+ ONLY, fem reader, rough sex, overstimulation, tension, inappropriate horniness, p-in-v sex, unprotected sex/creampie (don't do that IRL), fingering, multiple orgasms, standing missionary?, a hint of rushed consent, big feelings, manhandling ofc, and I don't proofread well.

Ghost had watched your late-night training routine many times. A bit of a jog to get warmed up, some plyometrics on one of the mats, and then some light weights. It would leave you in a glittering sheen of sweat under the dim lights; jewel-encrusted as you’d wait until the last hour of your workout to pull out headphones and start doing yoga.

After looking up some of the things you did, the Lieutenant knew enough about it to understand that it wasn’t just some bullshit thing you felt worked. It held some actual merit on plenty of applicable skills. And fuck did you make it look good. From the simple stuff like laying on your back and just breathing, to the more mind-bending positions like the *Sirsa Padasana -*one of those Ghost needed to know the name of- after watching you stay almost entirely still like that for five minutes. He’d seen a lot of the different ways soldiers practiced not only strengthening their bodies but their minds while training. And the way you spent so much time in yoga practice… he felt like there wasn’t any question as to how you had such control over yourself in the field.

In the beginning, Ghost found himself unable to interrupt your… sessions? for the unfounded reason that his presence huffing and groaning while running or lifting would interrupt whatever silence or isolation you preferred. At least, the silence he assumed you wanted since he never saw you in the gym when the sun was still visible. Instead, he’d just come to the edge of the windows and peek to see if you were still there; Deciding how close you were to finishing up before going back to his quarters and waiting until he heard the sounds of your footsteps walking past his door. But he’d been caught after a while.

And it opened up and entirely different kind of training that Ghost wasn’t prepared for.

You had been more than happy to share the gym with him, almost begging that he join since you never had “company” this late at night. Not that his “company” was much more than his body just being in the same room, but it never failed him to see just how utterly calm you were at the thought of him lingering around you. Most people flinched or shied away, but you never did, and even when you twisted yourself into the most ridiculous looking shapes and put yourself into vulnerable positions, it didn’t effect you at all that he could walk right by you or possibly be watching.

He was always watching.

It made hand-to-hand combat drills more interesting too.

Gaz had been partnered up with you initially, seeing as he could be the most patient and actually give you clear pointers without sounding too harsh. He’d been quite happy with your progress over the span of a few months, and quickly gave Ghost a task that became his most challenging mission to date. Teaching you how to fight without losing his own mind being that fucking close to you for nearly two hours multiple times a week. As if personally viewing your workouts late at night wasn’t bad enough, he actually got to feel just how much the yoga strengthened you when he had to grapple your little body and try to pin you down. Teaching you to block fists without seeing them coming, locking knees with opponents three-times your size, avoiding handcuffs, knives, and other non-projection weapons came with a cost.

Ghost wouldn’t really be focused on your techniques or reaction time nearly as much as he’d be concerned about the way your hips ended up flush with his, or just how easy it was for him to just slip one arm between your thighs and effortlessly manhandle you onto the mats. It was hard keeping a clear head when you just made fighting feel a lot more like aggressive foreplay. Hell, you sounded a lot more like you were being fucked too. Nothing but little grunts and groans when he’d secure one arm behind your back, or little pants as you fought off his punches and forward drives to kick one of your feet out from under you. s

“Don’t let me holding anything in your house I your legs,” He felt himself growling out the order as you fought underneath him to pull your legs free from between his thighs.

“If I pin you, you’re dead.” The words were harsh… and it’s why everyone thought Gaz would be a better fit.

But that hadn’t been enough, and now here he was, half-sweating and half-hard, trying to make sure his cock didn’t brush up against you long enough for you to notice that you were playing more than just one game with him. While your strength didn’t match his own, it was your flexibility that made you competent enough to have even been thought to be put into a spar with him. You could twist yourself up and out of spaces most grown men would never think about, and it did give Ghost a bit more challenge trying to combat how hand-placements knowing you were about as slippery as fucking water. And without attempting a conventional tactic, you’d gotten yourself free of his legs and wrapped back around his back with one leg and an arm pulled in a headlock.

Ghost gave a frustrated sigh, feeling his air supply being hindered but not actually cut off. You’d misjudged his windpipe -probably due to the mask- and tightened down less than an inch away from perfect. It was a good counter move, but not lethal. And that was unacceptable. Hardly any force was needed to pry your arms from around your leg and literally throw you belly-down onto the mat, both arms pulled tight behind your back with his legs pinning yours down securely. You wiggled and jerked against him, ass brushing the base of his ever-present erection, and it forced him to let you go. For nothing more than the safety of his own pride and insurance that you would go another day without your Lieutenant’s perverse thoughts becoming known.

“I thought I had you that time,” You pant, coming up to sit on your knees across from him with a frustrated look pinching your eyebrows. “What did I do wrong?”

He had to give you credit, you were so damn teachable. Always asking questions and stopping in the middle of a fight to expect some kind of explanation instead of just learning through trial and error. Naturally, he’d been partial to ignoring you at first but when you wouldn’t engage after asking a question until he said something, he realized that there was no use. So, he did what he could do best. Teach by example.

Slow… example.

“Come here,” You got back up to your socked feet and walked right up to him, sweat clinging to the tip of your nose and dripping down the side of your neck. He had the insatiable urge to rip his mask up and lick that bead from your collarbone to the pulse point jumping under your skin.

With one hand he turned you around, your shoulders tight to his upper stomach and placed his forearm against your throat in the same way you’d done just a moment ago. It made things hard since his arm hardly fit in the gap to begin with, but he could feel you swallow easily, letting him know he’d found the correct angle.

“Your arm hit off to the side,” He tightened down just a little, feeling your body tense up as he began putting pressure over you. “When it should’ve been straight.” With the smallest adjustment, his left hand palmed the top of your head, holding you still while the bulk of his muscled, right forearm pressed flush against the right side of your throat, and his massive bicep flexing to apply pressure to the other side; forcing a hissing sound from your mouth.

Your little hands came up to grip his arms, not exactly pulling him away or fighting the pressure. Both hands curling around his And while he knew he shouldn’t actively be testing just how long you could go before passing out, Ghost found himself waiting patiently just to see what would happen under the stress. There for a split second, your muscles suddenly went slack and he honestly thought you’d already lost enough oxygen to faint. But when your fingers still pressing against the veins in his arm started slowly moving in a little wave of tapping motions, he was proved wrong.

Right away he remembered seeing you do it before. In the times your yoga practice was a little less than comfortable or you were actively trying to push yourself further than you’d gone before. Something like a little tell, or coping mechanism that allowed you to focus without exerting too much energy to something else outside of the main stimulus. Another little thing you did that Ghost found so much more interesting and downright strange about you. How clever you were doing things differently than everyone else.

“Alright, enough,” He let go and pushed his hand in the gap of your shoulders to put some pace between you.

You stumbled forwards, taking a gasp of breath and turning around to Ghost with a heavy flush settling in your cheeks and a bloodshot tint in the whites of your eyes. You brought a hand up to your neck where a faint outline of his own arm had pressed into you, your fingertips tracing the outline with a little bit of an embarrassed smile on your face.

“Any reason you didn’t fight back?” He questioned, flattening out his tone and looking at you with a pointed glare.

You shrug, looking down at the floor for a moment. “I… was trying to feel it. The pressure I mean, and see if I could resist you.”

Ghost rolled his eyes, trying to keep from barking out a laugh. He’d not even used his actual strength to apply pressure. It was nothing more than the literal bulk of his arm just fit against your throat. Hearing you think otherwise gave the Lieutenant a deep stroke to his ego, even giving his half-hard cock a good wave of stimulation as well. He couldn’t find it in himself to not give you correction though.

“You couldn’t resist it, kid.”

“Excuse me?” The offense you took surprised him. Ghost took a couple steps closer to you, settling his hands on his hips.

“You. Couldn’t. Stop. Me.” He punctuated his words with a flat, and uninterested tone to mask the sudden intrigue he had after actually managing to keep the thundering beat of his heart under control.

You, with your calm demeanor. Patience beyond humanity. Body from his own wet dreams… A better man would’ve known how to stay away from you and ignore the desires to bend you to his own will. A good man would be like Gaz. Train you with only your best interests in mind. Develop your weaknesses without thinking of all the ways he could use them against you in the most twisted and deprived ways. Learn your body and train it to be even more dangerous than it already was. Not spend every second during sparring using it as an opportunity to have you under him or wrapped up in his arms so tight you couldn’t get away.

“Looks like you can’t stop yourself, L.T.,” You answer with a confidence and direct stare directly at his belt.

The remembrance of his cock straining against his pants became much more significant that his own comfort and control in that moment. Halting all thoughts aside from the way your eyes swirled with unspoken questions and plenty of ideas forming that Ghost didn’t nearly have the ability to respond to. A cold rush of panic spread through his body, and he immediately turned his back to you, spitting out some kind of dismissal as soon as her could manage it.

“We’re done today, go get cleaned up.”

Later that day, you’d not seen a single glimpse of Ghost. You’d not really meant anything mean by the mention of his… excitement, while training. It was understandable, seeing as you’d both been quite close and in very vulnerable positions that could easily skew anyones mind past the straight and narrow. You’d be lying if there weren’t times that you thought about the different ways your body could be really manhandled by your Lieutenant. He was undeniably attractive with his gruff voice and often bitter character. It made Ghost who you knew, and while you knew most people wouldn’t understand, you felt comfortable and safe around him.

Even when you felt his erection pressing against you while teaching you how to defend yourself in close combat. That whole ordeal was in the forefront of your mind in such a significant way that even Soap noticed it while you were putting together some dinner for the pair of you. Nothing special, just some pasta and chicken, but you’d nearly boiled over the pot of spaghetti twice now, and the Sergeant wasn’t so oblivious to not notice.

“You good?” He nudged you, taking the spoon from your hand and scooting you out of the way politely as to take over the cooking while you had such a hard time focusing. You’re slow to respond, still a little stuck trying to sort through your own feelings and the attempts to sort through what had happened, if it was your fault, and how in hell you were going to try and make an apology for overstepping bounds.

“Um… I have a question,” You speak up, wrapping your arms around yourself and watching Soap stir the chicken in the skillet.

“If you were sparring with a girl… and you got hard, does that mean you’re into her?”

You felt like a high school girl gossiping with her friends about how to tell if guys were crushing on you. Such a stupid question would’ve gotten you in a lot of trouble if you’d asked anyone other than Soap. Johnny looks over at you, a smirk on his face and his eyes alight with mischief. He turns around and leans against the counter with his lower back resting there causally, glancing around the kitchen and living area to see if anyone was around before answering you.

“Well lass, I can’t be sure of nothin’ more than theory…” He rubs a hand over the short and scratchy stubble growing out on his cheek. “But, if I really liked her, yeah… I’d probably get a little excited doin’ somethin’ like that.”

The topic falls into a somewhat comfortable silence after that; Allowing you to eat you dinner on the couch, stewing over not just the sight of Ghost standing right in front of you, obviously turned on in some way or another as well as Soap’s -unknowing- confirmation. Therefore by the end of your pasta, after a long stint of attempting to read a book, and debating if you’d just fucked up a very important relationship within your squad, you found yourself getting changed into some comfortable clothes and heading back down to the gym.

You didn’t bother warming up with a jog, or any real kind of strength training. You needed some kind of way to focus, and yoga was the only surefire way to shut out any other thoughts. There was just enough dedication required to work through poses correctly, that after less than ten minutes of gentle flow you’d lost a lot of the edge cutting into your peace of mind over Ghost. You’d been working on extending your ability to remain in Kapila pose, and got almost two minutes over your record when you heard the door to the gym snick open, followed by heavy footsteps walking past you towards the weight rack.

It was nearly one in the morning. No one looked for a hard workout this late night other than your Lieutenant, and he was the last person you wanted to face right now. Fuck… he was the whole reason you were pushing your limits right now, nearly reaching into the painful edge of stretches just to force your breathing and mind onto the center of balance and exertion. With your face mere inches away from the ground, sweat drips off your nose onto the mat you’re sitting on and makes a quarter-sized puddle by the time you’ve finally felt like you’ve held to pose long enough. Your flow lead you into Compass pose next, beginning the opposite leg and physically guiding yourself into a position meant for nothing more than to release tension lingering in your body. It takes a while to feel your joints and tendons finally giving up to the stress in your mind, making the hold on your foot behind your head more manageable.

It’s around that time you begin hearing the sounds of squat plates clacking against each other alongside the rich and room-filling sounds of Ghost’s quiet grunts and groans. Resisting the strong desire to imagine what his legs look like, flexing under the weight of the bar. Using massive thighs and such explosive power to push the multiple hundred pounds he’s holding over his shoulders over twenty times for racking the weight. It’s all in the sounds you can’t ignore due to forgetting your headphones. Damning you to an onslaught of delicious sounds that would’ve fell on deaf ears anywhere else on base. Overshadowing the tinges of pain in your body with the commanding nature of the Lieutenant even when he wasn’t seeking it out.

You spent nearly an entire half hour trying not to put too much weight on Ghost’s presence, working at this point just to get through your flow without drawing too much attention to yourself, or giving any reason for Ghost to say anything to you. You’d not prepared anything in the way of an apology, and you couldn’t begin to formulate one with clanking metal and his suggestive sounds filling your ears. Maddening… downright sinful in nature. Enough to make any woman squirm. And fuck were you utterly terrified that you’d chosen to wear such light colored grey leggings, because if you’d move in just the right way, the dampness growing there would be painfully obvious.

In a headstand, choosing it for nothing more than your confidence in it, you’d closed your eyes and started tapping on the mat with your fingers. Picturing your own spine and tying a string to it, using that thin string to draw your vertebrae straight and tall, lengthening your entire body and deepening your breaths. You nearly fell flat on your face when you feel fingers graze the back of your knee and tease over your calf. The wiggle in your concentration stacks your weight over your head and forearms on the floor and pitches you towards the ground.

Right away, an arm wraps around your hips and swipes you off your own control and kept you from falling to the ground. Instead of hitting your mat or the concrete you had your eyes on, you feel nothing short of muscle and stocky build pressed against the entire backside of your body as Ghost holds you upside down not unlike a sack of flour or a sniper rifle. The back of your head hits against his lower leg and you grunt a little, taken by surprise and once again finding yourself at the mercy of Ghost’s strength alone. You’re about to speak up, and are cut short by the Lieutenant literally spinning you right-side up with his free arm, holding you eye-level with him.

“Distracted?” His eyebrow raises above the cut out of his -much thinner- almost athletic mask missing the trademark skull painted on it. His hand palming your ass felt like it was branding the skin under your leggings, leaving you speechless and hanging on nothing more than the sounds of his breaths hissing through the mask.

“You… you spooked me,” You mutter, one hand bracing on his shoulder and the other somewhere on his chest… you couldn’t quite gather enough spacial awareness to connect the dots. “Made me jump is all.”

Ghost chuckled, “Spooked you?” Even his tone was mocking of the ridiculous idea you knew was so full of holes, it wouldn’t hold water. “Touching you s’enough?”

Looking down at your body pressed against his; the direct contrast of your cream colored knit sweater and his tight-fitting black shirt, the embarrassingly long distance between your feet and the floor. Everything about this meeting with Ghost was so far different than when you met on level ground in the sparring room. Then, you both knew the intentions. How to work around each other and how to go about pushing the right buttons. But now… you weren’t even close to feeling like having any power, and you were certain that the Lieutenant could feel it radiating off of you.

“Maybe it is.” Replying back, you feel his fingers dig a little into the flesh of your ass a little harder.

“Maybe its not what I’ve done that’s bothering you… but what you’ve been thinking about,” He challenged you back, looking over at the mat you’d been using. “Why you came here, pushing so hard… Ignoring me.”

All the air in your lungs evacuated when he so accurately saw right through your skull and into the deep recesses of your head. Enough that you were nodding your head just enough for Ghost to let out something of and amused kind of sound. Short of real laugher, but not nearly enough to call it a breath. Either way, there was no hiding now. You admitted it right to his face, looking deep in those dark eyes with a level of intensity you had never seen from him before.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s in your little head?”

You hadn’t the slightest idea where to begin. Should you admit that you were hungry for more about his thoughts on you? Or just admit that you’d been struggling all even with the guilt of enjoying the thought of him lusting over you and having the power to call him out over it? So many ideas popped into your head, spinning it around so quickly that y the time you spit out an answer, you were already in the changing rooms in the back of the gym; Ghost carrying you towards the counter with a mirror. He sat you down on it, slotting his hips between your spread thighs and rubbing those massive hands up your thighs like he was savoring the feeling of your muscles tensing up under his touch.

“C’mon. That was an order, soldier.” He pressed, actually pinching at the creases of your thighs made all the more defined with you sitting. “D’you have somethin’ you want to ask me? About training earlier…”

You gasped softly, twitching when his fingertips traced over the indentions in your thighs marking dimples and other imperfections that you would’ve loved to go unnoticed by his wandering hands curling around your hips and back towards your ass again, sliding you flush against his chest. Forcing you to visualize the heavier rise and fall of his chest, shadows defining the valley between his pecs and the heartbreakingly gorgeous width of his shoulders caging you in. Masterfully, this man was drawing words out of you in such a confident and almost inescapable seduction. Yet the only question you’d been struggling with was answered with nothing more than the soothing voice and teasing touch of a man who had you wrapped around his finger.

“Hmm, no questions?” His head tilted a bit, seeing you so flustered over nothing than a couple little touches.

Enjoying nothing more than how you looked at him so surprised and innocent, despite knowing just how fucking turned on you were after spotting the totally soaked crotch of your leggings after approaching you during your headstand. Unable to resist you any longer, Ghost tipped your chin up a bit to meet his gaze and purposefully softened it. Wanting to ease you into this a little more, humming lowly when your pretty lips curled into a sweet smile. Letting your head rest in his hold with every ounce of trust you showed in the field and one the mats during conditioning.

“I have a question for you. Did you like it…? Seeing me standing there with a hard cock, knowing you were the sole reason for it.” He traced his finger down the bridge of your nose gently.

“How does it make you feel inside, knowing I want to feel every inch of you. Taste your screams of my name and the slick dripping out of your cunt onto those fucking leggings you’re wearing.”

“F-felt… good,” You sputter, face flaring brightly. “Liked it a lot.”

His hands kneading harshly at your ass quickly came up to the high waist of your leggings and tugged, hard. Breaking stitches and even tearing the material on one side as he pulled those skin-tight leggings off your legs; Growling deep in his chest when the sheen of your arousal spread on your skin under the florescent light. You held on to his shoulders, helping him just enough to make sure he didn’t totally ruin your bottoms.

“I knew you did,” He snarled, throwing your pants behind him and giving you a very clear smile from behind his mask. “Such a good solider, too bad she’s a dirty little slut for her Lieutenant’s cock.”

You could help the guttural moan you let out when his fingers dipped between the slick folds of your pussy and so very gently rubbed over your swollen clit. Using his hips to keep your thighs from locking his hand into place. Ghost was as calm and collected as ever, giving you an almost placating look as you squirmed and fought between the desire to back away from the sudden intense stimulation and the desire for more. His other hand held your chin steady, tutting at you like he was disappointed when you bit your lip to try and muffle the sounds of pleasure he was giving you.

“No, you’re not allowed to do that.” He pinched your clit, making you yelp loudly and squeeze your thighs against him until they shook. “You’ll sit there and let me play with you until i’m finished, okay?” Ghost actually nodded your head up and down for you. “That means I hear every fucking sound, because they’re all mine.”

You couldn’t remember how many times you came around Ghost’s fingers before the entire countertop you sat on was pooling with your cum. Feeling it stick to your skin and the wet sensation of his mask dragging over your body as he licked and bit at your skin until the pain melted into such overwhelming ecstasy that you couldn’t hold your upper body of your own strength. You’d slumped your forehead against his chest, blabbering utter nonsense and struggling to manage just how Ghost could expertly play your body to his own desires. With a swollen and exhausted cunt still clenching around his fingers, you were being lifted off the counter and up into Ghost’s arms with the hot and thick head of his dick teasing your dripping hole.

“G-Ghost… can’t take it. Can’t take more,” You groan, clawing at his shoulders and back as he gently rolls his hips just enough to give you a taste of what he was about to stretch you out with.

“Oh yeah you can…” His breathless chuckle made your stomach churn. “You can. And you will, because I need you to come around my dick.”

In one fatal movement, you were speared onto Ghost’s cock down to the base. Crying out his name as your walls spasmed to adjust in time. Adjusting his hold on your body, the flexibility he’d lusted over while watching you worked to his advantage as he held you by your thighs, dropping your pussy back down over him. Releasing the first of many wet, sucking sounds that earned you such a deep moan of your own name that you impossibly tightened around him.

“Thaaatt’s ittt,” His punched-out praise only urged you on, creating deeper and more unavoidable desire to please him. “Such a good fuckin’ slut. Dripping down my balls… fuucck. You’re gonna make me come.”

The idea of Ghost filling you with his hot release poured hot, honeyed feelings of pleasure. You couldn’t believe there was a feeling such as deeply effecting as this. The shocking weakness in which you felt completely absorbed in to the point that you saw past the rough exterior Ghost was presenting, and understood that he wasn’t taking with your physical self, but everything else that you could offer him. Closeness, support, trust beyond what others had given… maybe even love. Sex hadn’t felt like this before. Especially the filthy way Ghost was fucking his cock up into you so deeply your cervix was curving to mold around his tip. But the connection was there and so strong that your heart was burning in your chest.

“Doin’ so good…” He murmured, wet mask brushing against your cheek and fanning damp breaths over your sensitive skin. “God m’gonna keep you right here forever,” He groaned, biting at your cheek through his mask. “My little toy. Let me make you feel good…”

That wetness in your bright eyes as you nodded up at him, whimpering broken pleads and begs for him to do it. To claim you… fill you up over and over. Never spend another day without Ghost either right next to you, or his semen dripping out of you as a reminder that you’ve been possessed by such a powerful and commanding man that would stop at nothing to drive you out of your mind with pleasure. Such intense emotional and physical feelings that sent you careening over the edge of a earth-shattering orgasm that left you quite literally screaming out his name at the top of your lungs, feeling a heavy pressure in your lower stomach break. Clamping down on Ghost’s cock and feeling overwhelming wetness soaking his pelvis and dripping down onto the floor in a gush of splatters.

“Shhiitt!” Ghost shouted out your name, stuffing his cock as deeply inside you as he could.

Feeling jets of his release flooding your pussy and overflowing the tight space until it rolled down your inner thighs in thick pearl rivulets. His hips rocked against yours, stuttering as they grew weak and his cock overstimulating against the texture and tightness. Right away the bruising grip on your ass and thighs loosened, and on unsteady legs Ghost moved you both back towards the counter and reluctantly drew himself out of you with a hiss. Too fucked out to even respond in a noticeable way, you just kept your weakened legs and arms wrapped as tightly around him as you could. Shivering with aftershocks of nearly-fried nerves and overworked muscles.

You were cradled against Ghost’s chest, with both arms protecting your body. His head resting atop yours, listening to your breaths and feeling the way you began to slowly wind down, made that much easier by his fingers trailing up and down your spine and whispered praise scratching an itch deep in your heart and brain. He was taken by you, so small and made that much smaller with nothing but that soft sweater covering your form and the little hands you’d fisted into his shirt. So pretty, and if it wasn’t for seeing your skills as a soldier, he’d think you were as breakable as a hand painted, porcelain teacup.

Duty to protect and provide washed over Ghost. So strongly that even the small chills rising on your legs were distressing him beyond what would’ve felt acceptable. He wanted you warm and feeling safe with him after taking so much for so long that you could hardly hold your own head up. Moving you again to his quarters was his next task, and he very quickly had you gathered up in his arms and the large towel you’d brought to the gym draped over your bottom half so that neither of you would have to fuss with the wet leggings that had been unintentionally soaked by your final orgasm. Ghost didn’t even bother picking them up off the floor since the right side had been ripped apart beyond repair or wearing again. Mentally, he already had plans on replacing them.

But there would be a lot of things that changed sooner than later.

He’d done everything to stay away. Pretend that he didn’t want you deep in his very bones, and ignore how heavy of a struggle it became to deny simple closeness to another human being that meant more than a cooperating operator. You would be nothing less than his sole purpose in working for. Ensuring you had everything you needed and more than you could ever ask for. He’d take nothing you gave for granted, including the total control of your body for him tonight. And he’d be certain that the next time he touched you… he would do it the right way instead of allowing the desperate side of him to try and swallow you whole. You deserved more than a rough and dominating man. And he wasn’t sure how to even go about becoming something he’d long abandoned for no other reason than survival.

But fuck if he’d be damned if he didn’t dedicate the rest of his life trying.

Comments & Reblogs are Appreciated

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #cod #cod mwii #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #velvetures writes #velvetures

[eydi-andrius]

Cruel Existence (Gojo Satoru x Reader)

summary: Gojo broke up with you a week ago. Trying to forget him, you invited your friends to a night out. It was fun while it lasted, until you realized that you never went home to your own place. In fact, you were sleeping soundly on his bed.

cw/tw: angst, hurt, pain, mentions of break up, regret, mentions of drinking until one passes out (please don't do this), trespassing

a/n: this was fun to write. I hope you like it. Again, as much as I appreciate likes, comments and reblogs motivates me better. Thank you!

🐈

It is wild how the stranger you once met becomes the most important person in your life.

Then for one day, life decided to make that person a stranger again.

Some may argue that no, they're not strangers anymore.

However if you think about it, a person who isn't in your life is nothing but a mere stranger.

His memories may be there, and it must have been your greatest treasure. Yet, it doesn't erase the fact that it wasn't them anymore.

Each day, the knife twists deeper, sharper and deadlier the more you think about the what ifs and the whatnots.

It's like a deadly poison slivering inside your vein. Memories turn lethal and invasive. You begged for them to just stop and let you breathe.

You prayed every night for it to be over. As you close your eyes, you wish that the morning will make you feel renewed and the person you once were.

How cruel life can be when all you wanted was to be loved.

Gojo had found you first. Maybe that explains a lot why he ended it in the first place.

"Look at this girl. She called us to drink her sorrows away but she was just holding her beer and staring from afar." Iori called you out. Then, rolled her eyes in annoyance. You gave her a chuckle and muttered an apology.

If she did not call your name, you will probably think about what you did wrong and why he ended your relationship that way. He looks tired, fed up when you ask why. He wasn't the same Satoru to whom you knew. It was true that he could be cold-hearted at times but he never acted that way towards you.

That should have been a red flag but that action had made a swarm of butterflies in your stomach. You almost thought you were special.

You bit your lips as you felt another tear wanting to come out and spill your pain in front of your friends again. Shaking your head and blinking your eyes, you tried your best to stop it.

You called and invited them to forget him. It has been a week. It shouldn't bother you as much anymore. He probably had been enjoying his single life. The pain of being pursued and being rejected after achieving your goal was something you had been trying your best not to overthink about. It might be true, but it wasn't healthy to soak through the scenarios and what ifs you knew nothing about.

It will just kill you inside and there will be no reprieve for it.

Attention and awareness finally came back to what you were doing, and so you looked around. The bar was loud. Blinking lights and the alcohol were giving everyone a false sense of confidence as they danced and socialized on the crowded dance floor. Everyone looked like they were having fun. Now, you kinda felt bad that your friends were just sitting inside the private booth with you. Especially, when all of these independent ladies had been through a tough week doing their work. You felt bad wasting their time to watch you mopping and crying over a man they already told you to be wary about.

"I know what you were thinking. And no, I'd rather sit here and join you into drinking your heart out than be with those strangers. Drink up!" Mei mei raised her eyebrows and tapped your pint. She's always so impressive at reading people. Sometimes you wonder if you had said your thoughts aloud with how accurate her words were, at times.

Heart filled with warmth, with how loving your friends were, you stood up and hugged them all. Shoko who remained quiet and sitted patted your back in reassurance after returning your big hug.

It was probably harder for her to hear what happened. She was close to Gojo. You just hoped she wouldn't be planning his murder though. She may be quiet but when angry, she can be more intense than these two.

Anyway, enough thinking about your ex-boyfriend now! These hot ladies gave you their precious free time so might as well use it wisely and to full extent.

You basically had dragged the three in the middle of the dance floor and showed them your moves, which was nonexistent, so you earned a mocking and hysterical laughter from them. Yet, it did not take long for them to follow suit and even challenge you to a dance battle.

The night was filled with laughter, and for once, during that grueling week, you forgot why you were crying and had to lie about your puffy eyes.

🐈

The pain in your head was intolerable. You had been awake for quite some time now but you cannot even lift your eyelids on how painful it was. You groaned. You moaned. You breathed in and out to make it better but the beating of the unbearable pain seems to get worse.

Well, it was true what they said, it had been fun while it lasted.

Last night was a blast. No one can stop the four of you as you claimed the stage and did your greatest night out. You felt the rush of freedom and so you did not stop taking shots after shots. The consequences were pushed back in the deepest part of your brain. And for once, you let your wild side out in public.

You were probably so wasted but at least managed to get home safe. The proof was the soft mattress of your bed. Your fresh sheet enveloping your exhausted body to a warm embrace while the air conditioner blows the perfect amount of cold. This atmosphere should have pulled you back to sleep, if it weren't for this godforsaken headache. Gosh, you wanted so bad to go back to sleep. But you are in pain, needing to pee and calm your growling hunger. You can even feel the vile gastric threatening to come up due to your empty stomach.

"How long do you plan to sleep on my bed?"

Familiar voice had spoken close to you and your body reacted way too fast. You sat up and opened your eyes. Leaning on the doorway was your ex-boyfriend Gojo Satoru. His blue eyes are neutral but his face says he was pissed.

His hair was damp. Droplets were even falling from it but he wore a white towel around his neck to prevent it from cascading further down to his body. He was half naked, only wearing an untied sweats that was hanging way too low for your comfort. Normally, you would say he was hot. But that was not the most important thing right now.

"What do you think you are doing inside my room-!?" In surprise, you yelled but were met by your very hoarse voice. You even ended up violently coughing and wheezing with how dry your throat was. It was as if you did a 24 hour karaoke with your friends or you competed at a screaming contest.

"Maybe before you groaned and moaned to someone else's bed, make sure you were actually on your bed." He tuts and moves towards where you were sitting. You felt a cold metal placed on your forehead and you sighed in relief. Even though it gave you a quick relief, it only happened for a second.

The pain, forgotten for a moment of shock, was now back twice ruthless. Your head was swimming in pain and you felt lightheaded. You left out a loud burp and you felt the hand, holding the can on your forehead, maneuvered fast to pick up the bucket placed methodically on his bedside. The respect you had for this man for preparing this much so he would be able to stop you if you plan to puke all over his place as revenge.

You wretched as if there was no tomorrow. All contents from last night probably had been vomited earlier because you felt only the acid of vile as it pushes whatever was still left inside of you. Heaving, you accepted the water he provided and gargled the last remaining content of puke in your mouth. You cleaned up using the back of your hand and leaned at the nearby chair while you were still sitting on his bed.

This is probably your year's nightmare. Drinking a lot for the first time, losing your friends by walking to someone else's house and worse, sleeping on your ex's bed and thinking it was so comfortable and homey earlier.

While you were thinking and regretting what you had done, you heard the scraping of the table being pulled closer to where you sat. His presence near you again. The clang of utensils, the sound of the lid being opened and plastic wrappers being crumpled and thrown had almost lull you to sleep when you felt a soft tap of his familiar hand on your shoulder.

With a blink, you straightened up and looked at the store bought food, placed in front of you.

It was cup noodles, a bottle of water and ibuprofen, placed on the side. The cold can of coffee just above it.

"Eat up or you will feel shittier than you are right now." He said more like an order and just stood in front of you with arms crossed.

You gulped and tried your best to eat but your hair kept on falling down and dipping on the cup noodles. You were already aware that you smelled like vomit, who could even imagine you can also smell like cup noodles. With a groan of frustration, you collected your hair on the side and was about to eat again when you felt his hand run through your hair.

He mumbled a soft "Let me." and with practiced moves, he was able to tie your hair with a hair tie. He used to do this a lot when you decided not to cut your hair shorter so you can donate it. He was so sweet and attentive when you were still together and this action of concern was not helping your case.

You sat and ate in silence while he stood there for a while and decided it was too awkward and he left you alone. He closed the door as softly as he could. Once you were sure he was gone, you gave out an empty scream and slapped your face multiple times. The pain, embarrassment, and anger were all mixed up as you felt it rise within you.

With a frustrated groan, you bite your lip and pray that this nightmare was all a dream. But you know better. Eyes staring at the familiar ceiling, you sighed. The room is engulfed with quiet except for your ragged breathing, indiciating, how sick you are.

The silence did not last long when you remembered your phone and frantically looked for it. You saw it placed properly on the nearby stool and almost cried when you saw the numerous texts and calls from your friends. Ranging from the early hours of the day and right now, it was asking for the same thing; where were you? or are you okay?.

Nervous, you tried your best to reply even with shaking hands and once you hit send, they immediately saw it and called.

The call was filled with screams of terror and relief that you were okay. But once they calmed down, you were able to talk to them properly. They even answered the gnawing question you had been wondering about when you saw Gojo in front you.

Around 3 am, you four had decided to book a room in a nearby hotel, instead of getting a cab and going home. You all were too wasted to even trust yourselves that you can all recall how to go home.

They never remember much after that but they were sure you were the first one to sleep on the bed. But later, after around 5 or 6, Iori woke up and saw you weren't there. They were filled with panic and terror because there is no way you can stand up after having that short sleep and being too drunk.

They tried to rationalize that maybe you did go home and tried to call you. But when you were still not picking up, they almost trashed the hotel room. Luckily, the cleaning lady was kind enough. When she saw their panicked and disheveled appearance, she asked the security to check if you left the hotel in one piece. It turns out, she had seen you four together and was also worried that something happened to you too.

They had seen you walking out of the room and through the lobby, up to the entrance. You obviously looked still drunk as you tried to wobble and walk straight ahead, outside of the hotel.

Since then, they have been blowing your phone with texts and calls. They could hear it ringing so they suspected that maybe you accidentally turned it to silent mode or you were kidnapped.

Grateful, you reassured them that you were fine. You made up a story that you booked a new hotel room, in another hotel, probably because you were drunk. Currently, you informed them that you were staying in that room and having breakfast. You reasoned out that you were not able to answer their calls and texts because you can barely open your eyes. It uproared another wave of panic but you told them firmly that you were fine and will call them once you take care of your too drunk ass. To stop them from asking further, you hung up the phone with an excuse that your battery was dying out.

There is no way that you will share to them that your drunk ass went to your ex's huge condominium and you thought as you woke that it was yours. You had been staying and visiting this place that your body immediately thought of this place as your other home.

After finishing your meal, and feeling the medicine taking effect. You psych yourself up to face the inevitable. There is no way you can just walk out of this place without confronting him about what you did and what he had to witness.

You walk to the restroom and try your best to look presentable and not a crazy person.

Once done, you slowly crept towards the door and opened it ajar, you scanned the place and looked for him. He was wearing a black fitted plain shirt, as he sat on the couch, sipping a cup of coffee as he typed something on his laptop. Probably, for work.

You walked slowly towards him and coughed to get his attention. His piercing blue eyes stared back at you, as he removed his glasses and closed his laptop. He grumbled and again, crossed his arms to his chest. His lips were abit pouted and the creases on his head showed a frown.

"I'm really sorry for trespassing. I promise I will never drink that hard again." You promised and even did a pinky swear in front of him. He looked unamused though as he replied with a doubtful "hmmm" and still had the same frowning face.

"Do you remember what you did then?" He asked.

"To be honest, no. I only remember being in a hotel with the girls and sleeping. I don't really remember much about what I did." You gulped when you saw him raised his eyebrow and sighed.

"See those keys?" He pointed at the keys placed on a bowl. "You used that to enter my condo. They were my spare keys that were still hidden in the same place. You were so drunk that you thought you went back home and even slept beside me. I thought I was sleeping with my pillow the whole morning, so imagine my surprise when that pillow turned out to be you." He shared with a firm voice, as if he even cannot fathom what happened.

However, something's amiss with that story.

"No way! Don't lie to me. I agree that I may have done the trespassing but sleeping beside you? Nahhhhhhh! I doubt that. Remember, you're a light sleeper! There is no way I can sneak up on you and sleep." It was now your time to raise your eyebrow and cross your arms at him. You even sounded smug for someone who owed him big time.

You do not believe that other accusation at all. That is so unbelievable and he was probably messing with you so you will feel guiltier from entering his home without permission.

"My new doctor prescribed effective sleeping pills for insomnia this time. I have been sleeping better and on time ever since. I never felt any movement at all." He smirked. And you know, you lose. Gojo never lied about these things and you also knew that he was struggling to sleep.

So if this was true, then for the whole morning, you were sleeping together!?

Who would even do that with her ex? Oh god you are stupid!

His smug look had made you feel ashamed even more and you know that you're red as a tomato. You feel hot all over and even at the end of your ears.

Let's end this humiliation and be done with this asap!

"I- Thank you for taking care of me. I owe you one. I'm so sorry again and will promise not to drink again and disturb you. Again, I am so sorry." With a deep bow, you sincerely apologize and you just hear him say "look up."

"It's alright. I'm glad your safe. Hangover but safe. " He taunted and you just wanted to slap that smirk out of his face. He was obviously implying how humiliating your shenanigans were. And they were, but he doesn't have the right to judge.

"Well then, if there's nothing more, I'll go back to the hotel and meet my friends." A bow again and you were on your way out.

You blinked when he slapped his hands on his thighs before he stood up and used his head to tell you to go first.

You frowned a bit in confusion but followed regardless.

This whole interaction was so awkward but familiar. He does this a lot whenever you visit his home. He usually drives you back home or if he can't, he will see you out to the entrance.

The elevator did not come sooner, however. It was creating unnecessary drama and tension between you two. As you just stood there, holding your bag for dear life. You hugged it for comfort and distraction on this growing awkwardness by standing near him. He looks fit. You imagine running your hands over him again. It was more tempting now than before.

"Please take care of yourself." You heard him speak first, breaking the ice. Your head whipped so fast in his direction when you heard his voice break a little when he said that. But when you looked at him, he titled his head to the side, confused at your action. Maybe you imagined it.

Embarrassed, you used the ping of the elevator as an excuse, thank god, and immediately rode the lift.

He was standing there on the other side, he was staring at you. It feels like someone was looking into your soul. You cannot help but feel vulnerable and open in front of his eyes. He looks solemn, calm.

If you stop me, I will forgive you and run back to your loving arms.

It was too late before you realized that you opened your mouth to speak and called his name.

"Satoru." His first name rang smoothly on your mouth. It feels comfortable and your heart twinged in pain when you realized that it may be the last time you will ever see him.

As the door closes slowly, you have seen his mouth move from your peripheral and he uttered your name softly, like how you say the name of the ones you treasured the most.

You do not know if you were just seeing things but his eyes look emotional, somewhat sad for a second. Before the elevator door finally closes and your name echoed when he said it.

"Y/N."

There were no tears as the lift started going down. You expected that seeing him one last time, you will feel the pain worse than before. Yet, that did not happen.

Staring at your reflection, your eyes look tired. The way those eyes bore at you speaks volume on how your soul truly feels about this.

You had a moment of acceptance when the doors closed in between you two.

A new chapter of your lives will arise. He will have his own world without you. He will be happy. He will be truly madly deeply in love with someone else.

And now, the hurt and pain became numb and cold.

Just imagining that he would love someone much greater than what he had given you was soul crushing to the point of rude awakening.

During those times, you will be happy for him. But you wish, as selfish as it sounds, that he will not be as happy when you were still together.

🐈

Gojo doesn't need to get up to know it was you who entered his condo without notice. He was a bit concerned that you kept on stumbling around and cussing his furniture out that managed to trip you, even though it was clearly your fault.

When he felt the bed dipped and your arms automatically hugging him from behind, it made him a bit nervous. He has to pretend to be asleep or else…….or else what? He never knew.

You smell like alcohol and you're even slurring your words. He never saw you this drunk before. In fact, you never liked alcohol. You have a terrible experience of living with an alcoholic, so a mere smell of alcohol repulses you. He never expected to see you drunk and barely kept together.

He was about to confront you, when he felt your arms tighten around him and your breath tickling his back when you said, "I'm home." with a sigh of relief before passing out.

Gojo had never felt more at peace hearing those words coming from your mouth.

🐈

When he woke up, he was just staring at you. He never had any proper sleep since the break up but knowing you were beside him, he was able to sleep well.

Maybe something inside him had been comforted when you said you were home. It actually warms his heart that you felt at home beside him.

He sat up and, a twang of pain rushed inside his chest. He shakes his hair in annoyance using his right hand.

He doesn't have the right to be sad about it when he was the one who broke it up with you.

Gojo never really knew why he did it in the first place. Sure, his family never approved of you but he never really cared about their opinion. He actually wishes for his old folks to die soon so he doesn't have to pretend that he cares about their words. He grew up without them being around.

Or maybe it was because he felt insecure that someone as kind and loving as you chose him. You were so different to the people he usually surrounds himself around but you were warm and he felt safe around you.

With a frustrated groan, Gojo stood up and was about to walk towards the door when he thought of an idea.

He slowly walked towards where you were asleep, bent down and whispered, "Welcome home." before kissing your forehead.

For the first time, after a week of him trying to justify that he made the right choice, making Nanami, his friend, worry that he was working too much, he felt at peace and happy.

Just for a moment, he wanted to pretend that he did not let you go for something so stupid and you were actually home with him.

#gojo x reader #gojo sensei #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen season 2 #jujutsu kaisen shoko #jujutsu kaisen mei mei #jujutsu kaisen iori #fic: cruel existence #eydi andrius #gojo imagine #gojo satoru oneshot #gojo angst #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk fanfic #jjk satoru #jjk angst #jjk

[thornsnvultures]

heaven can('t) wait

steve harrington x plus size!fem!reader

tweaked a bit from this anon request (sorry it took song long), less angst and more silly because I like writing readers who are secure in their bodies, it's healing for me. I hope you like it!

cw: 18+ nsft, smut, afab!reader, body worship, new relationship insecurities, oral (fem recieving), fingering, p in v sex, spanking, light breath play, Daddy kink, breeding kink, creampie (if there's anything I missed lmk), >2k words

divider by @/saradika

"Get your butt out here before I come in and get'cha."

You could practically hear Steve's hands on his hips through the bathroom door. But you weren't coming out. Not like this. Steve wanted you to try on his old gym shorts before he got rid of them.

You should've listened to your gut; the damn things didn't fit. Well, you were able to get them up and over your ass, but the waistband dug into your tummy making it spill over the top and the material was digging into your thighs. You felt like a can of biscuits about to pop.

Now, it wasn't your body's fault for being built the way it was. You've always been soft around the edges, had plenty of hips and thighs and tummy to spare since you hit puberty and you were fine with that. It was these damn shorts, they just weren't made for you. Obviously, they were men's shorts. And a size too small.

"You overestimated what these shorts were capable of, Harrington," you called as you twisted and turned in the mirror. You had to admit your ass looked good, like those girls at the gym who scrunched their yoga shorts up their entire butt like their ass was having them for dinner.

But you still weren't comfortable with Steve seeing you like this. As much as you were okay with your body, this relationship was...new. You'd been hurt before. Was now the time you wanted to test your relationship? See if Steve was the kinda guy to really hurt you?

"You've got until the count of three, baby," Steve yelled, a playfulness in his voice that made your heart race. You almost wanted to push him, have him bust in here and let him punish you for not listening when he used his "babysitter voice". More like his Daddy voice. A thrill rushed through you, running straight through to your clit. Steve was at two and a half when you shook yourself out of it.

"Two and three quarters..."

Steve was grinning at you when you threw the door open.

"Three. They don't fit, Steve."

"I don't know about that," Steve said as he took a step back. "They look like they fit just right."

You pluck at the waistband, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "They clearly don't. See, they're digging in."

"Lemme see," Steve said, his voice sounding deeper, his eyes narrowed in on your exposed tummy. You watch him drop to his knees in front of you, your breath catching in your throat. Steve's hands travel up your legs, over your thighs and hips until they reach the waistband of the shorts.

Slowly, Steve peels down the elastic, revealing the indents where it dug into your skin.

"You poor thing," Steve whispers as he kisses your skin, feather-light brushes of chapstick smooth lips that soothe where you ache. Well, not everywhere.

"Steve," you run your fingers through his hair, cradling his head as he moves across the expanse of your tummy. Yeah, if you were testing him, Steve would be passing with flying colors.

Moving to your hips, Steve pulled the shorts down further, exposing the sides of your panties where they hugged your hips. With the shorts now around your thighs, you found it harder to move. If you wanted to pull away from Steve now, you might fall over. Thankfully his hands were cradling your ass now, kneading and squeezing your supple flesh. How thoughtful of him to keep you upright.

You couldn't help but laugh at yourself, at being stuck and the wild sight of your big beautiful man worshiping you on his knees.

"What's so funny, baby," Steve stops his tickling kisses to bite at your hip, not too hard but hard enough to make you yelp and to leave a mark. "Got something you wanna tell the class?" Steve punctuates his sentence with a slap to your ass.

"Get me out of these shorts, Harrington," you wriggle around in his hold, your ass stinging and your pussy throbbing from all this love and affection. "They're cutting off my circulation."

Steve all but growls watching you jiggle in his hold. He yanks his shorts off you, your panties too, throwing them across the room.

"S'that better?"

Steve doesn't wait for you to answer before he's pulling you forward and slamming the bathroom door closed behind you. Suddenly you're being turned around and pushed face first into the door. Steve's spreading your legs apart and nudging your lower back down with one hand on your spine until your back is arched and you're spread wide open.

"This is for making me wait."

You shout when Steve slaps your ass again.

"Steve, please," you whine, your ass smarting from Steve's heavy hand.

"Should've came out when I told you to, pretty girl," Steve nips at your cheeks, trailing kisses behind the pain.

He's very pointedly ignoring your pussy, the bastard. You squirm, trying to entice him closer to your core as your head falls to the door with a groan.

"Next time you decide to hide this hot little body from me, you don't get to come at all."

Steve smacks your ass again, the hardest one yet, and dives face first into your pussy. He spreads your ass open with his big fucking hands, locking eyes with you over your shoulder as he tongues your pussy.

Steve sucks your clit and you can't hold back your screams. Not that you would bother if there was. His tongue feels way too good flicking back and forth over your sensitive nub, alternating between that and sucking your soul out.

"Tell Daddy you're sorry," Steve growls when he comes up for air. "Tell him you won't hide from him again if you want this dick."

Steve slides his fingers into your cunt, two thick fingers that make your eyes roll back and your jaw drop before you can say a word. A long, deep whine falls from your lips. Any smart-ass remark you want to make is lost in the way he curls his fingers inside you, immediately finding the spot that turns you to goo.

"I'm sorry, Daddy. Sorry, I'm sorry," you babble. "Won't hide again. Please please please."

"That's it, baby," Steve purrs, his fingers stretching you open. "Beg for it."

You whine and cry and beg for his dick but all he gives you is his fingers. Fucking you deep until you're gushing, drooling down his arm.

Steve reaches around your side to hold your tummy. His fingers dig into soft flesh and he groans, biting the swell of your ass that jiggle by his face.

"So fucking sexy, baby. Love watching you fall apart for me."

"Daddy, please," you cry out as you come on his fingers again. "Need you inside me."

"What was that? I couldn't hear you," Steve stands, his fingers still filling your cunt like he's stuck. He bends over your arched back to nuzzle into your cheek, his thick cock pressing into your hip. His face is wet with your slick, you can smell yourself all over him and it makes your pussy clench around his fingers.

"Please," you whine. "Need you to fuck me. Daddy."

Steve inhales, his chest expanding against your back. He keeps his fingers in your cunt, stroking you lovingly from the inside, while he pushes his sweatpants down. You hear him step out of them and for a brief moment you're empty, hollow without him.

But the feeling is gone as quickly as it came when Steve taps his dick against your lips.

"Ready, baby?"

You nod, your hands braced against the bathroom door as Steve begins to ease his cock inside. It's a tight fit, Steve's almost too big. Just enough that you're panting and telling yourself to relax so you can take it but not too much that it hurts. He doesn't want to hurt you, he tells you that himself.

"Let me in, sweet girl. God, you're gripping me so tight. Let me all the way in, you feel so good."

Steve noses at your cheek, his chest rubbing against your back. He must've taken off his shirt while he was feeding you his cock because you feel the hair on his chest tickling your skin.

"That's it, baby," Steve says through his teeth once he's all the way in. He only lets you settle for a moment before he's pounding in and out, over and over. The door rattles under your palms with the force of his thrusts and you cry out.

"Fuck, Steve, yes!"

"What's my name?" Steve takes you by the throat, not pressing hard enough to take away your breath but to turn your head so he can capture your lips in a kiss before he asks you again. "What's my name, baby?"

"Daddy!"

Steve's hips hit even harder, drilling into you. He never takes his eyes off you, holding your face to look at him as he gives your neck a squeeze.

"Who's body is this?"

"Yours, it's yours."

"That's right."

Steve pulls out of you with a slick squelch and leads you by the neck to his bed. He pushes you down on it and watches you inch back towards his pillows. He looks so wild. His hair sticking up in places, his chest red and heaving. Steve pumps his wet dick and climbs up after you. He grabs your legs by the backs of your thighs and pushes them up, all the way up to your chest. Your thick thighs frame your belly and squish your tits and Steve is looking at you like he wants to eat you alive. The monster between his legs twitches in his grip.

"It's all yours, Daddy. I'm all yours."

"Yes, you are," Steve grins as he slides his cock home, right where it belongs. "Every inch of you. No matter what clothes you wear or what you look like," Steve groans, easing his cock in and out. His arms bracket your head, leaning his big body into your space until he's a breath away and resting his forehead on yours. "You're mine. All mine."

You can't do anything but breath him in and feel. The way his cock bullies that spot in you over and over. How your nails dig into Steve's back and he doesn't even flinch, too focused on making you cum again. You try to meet his thrusts, arching your back, his twisting because it's too much, it feels too good.

"Fuck, Steve. Daddy, I'm cumming, I'm-"

"Yes, yes, that's it. That's it, baby," Steve watches as your mouth drops in a silent scream, your eyes rolling back, all the air getting stuck in your lungs as you shatter. "So perfect, my perfect girl. Fuck, gonna fill you up. Fill my pussy up with cum," Steve grits through his teeth.

Your hands grab his face, forcing him to look at your blissed out face.

"Give me your baby, Daddy."

Steve's eyes roll back in his head and his whole body shudders. He warms your insides, filling you up just like he said he would until he's leaking out, dripping onto the bed.

"God, why did you say that," Steve groans into your neck.

"Cause I knew it would make you cum," you laugh.

"Should've never told you I wanted kids."

You laugh again as Steve rolls off you, getting up to grab a towel.

"Should've never told me I had nice, wide birthing hips either, Daddy."

Steve throws the towel at you cackling on the bed.

"I was drunk!"

"You wanted me so bad it made you stupid," you smile at him and pull him in for a kiss when he reaches for the towel.

"You're right. Those shorts made me stupid. I saw them and I knew they wouldn't fit but I needed to see you in them anyway."

"Steve!"

"Tell me it wasn't worth it!" Steve smiles and you bite your lip watching him wipe his softening dick clean. You should be doing that, not the towel. Next time.

"It was worth it, you're right," you purr, taking Steve into your arms when he crawls back into bed. "Next time can you buy me some sexy lingerie or something instead of tricking me into feeling like a packed can of sardines?"

Steve laughs and kisses you silly. "Keep calling me 'Daddy' and I'll do whatever you want, beautiful."

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x plus size!reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #daddy!steve harrington #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington fan fiction #tw daddy kink #my fics

[pls-hold-me-im-justa-weeb]

Beg for me

If you know me IRL, no you don't.

This was heavily inspired by me playing around with the Jealous Law AI chat thing (10/10 great conversation)

In my opinion, this is unrealistic because this could VERY easily turn angsty, but I didn't because I'm writing so much angst in my other fic (Torn Apart).

Anyways, enjoy this one shot!

Commissions open

Summary: Law harmlessly pranks you when you're desperate for him to touch you, and your petty ass makes him pay.

WC: ~3.2k

CW's: No actual smut but NSFW, Fem!reader, fem pronouns used (kinda), switch!Law, switch!Reader

“L-Law… please?” 

He had worn you down to the last reserves of your patience- your need for his touch and your pride were warring in your head, but you could only beg for him. You were blindfolded, laying on the bed in your new lingerie. You had the flimsy meshy material embroidered with his Jolly Roger right over your nipples and right over your throbbing clit, and gold rings went from your sternum to right above your tiny thongs, with criss crossing black silky straps accentuating your body. Your mesh bralette was two triangles barely covering your breasts, the Jolly Roger scraping over your nipples, making them sensitive with every heaving breath. 

“Awww, already begging? Maybe I should just play with you instead of giving you the surprise,” he drawled. You turned your head in the direction of where his voice came from, standing at the side of the bed. You whined, brain whirling. So far, every time you had begged for him to show you the surprise, he had pushed your patience even further. You had one last strategy to play. 

“I just want you… Law. Please? I’m begging you,” you spoke softly, desire lacing your voice. You felt him crawl onto the bed, finally coming to a stop as he hovered above your body, caging you in. You whined softly, reaching a hand out blindly. You wished you could see his face to bring some comfort to your desperation. You felt his breath on your lips, and your hand finally found his warm skin, and you felt his heartbeat under your fingers. Your fingers curled gently over his neck, letting your hand slide up to tangle in his hair. 

“Well… if you’re so desperate for me, then it seems like we can forget all about the surprise, yeah?” he asked teasingly. You whined. You were desperately curious about this “surprise”. After mentioning it all day, he gave you two hints- it would bring some spice into the bedroom, and would make you very satisfied. You had no clue as to what it could be. A vibrator? A dildo? A vibrating attachment for his tongue piercing? A cock ring? Your imagination had been running wild all day, so you decided to surprise him with your new lingerie to spice things up even more.

“It.. can be later. I just want you,” you whispered. He chuckled darkly, and brushed his lips softly against yours, before sliding off your body. You whined, nipples peaking again from the cold as his body heat suddenly disappeared. 

“Law… I can’t wait much longer. I’m soaked,” you begged. He didn’t answer, and you heard the tell-tale signs of his shirt hitting the floor. You heard him peeling off his signature spotted jeans, dropping them to the floor with a small thump. 

“L-Law?” You called out to him. You felt his hands on your thighs, and you jolted at the sudden touch. He chuckled at your reaction, and parted your thighs. You whined a little at his movements, but eagerly spread your legs for him. 

“What a good little doll. Just stay quiet and do as I say, yeah?” He spoke. You felt the softest brushes of his lips on your inner thighs, and you started to tremble with anticipation. You nodded, just wanting him to touch you. His weight suddenly disappeared from the mattress, and you felt alone and cold. You whined a little, nearing frustrated tears. You parted your lips to call out to him, but you knew he would prolong the time between touches even more if you spoke. You heard him rustling about, pulling something out from under his desk, then placed it near the bed, and you shifted a little, grinding your teeth with impatience. 

“You’re being so good. How about a little reward, hm?” he cooed. You looked in the direction of where his voice came from, and you nodded with a small smile. You felt his weight press into the bed near your head, and his hand slid along your jaw and cheek, tilting your head up a little more. You parted your lips in anticipation, but he only gave you the briefest brush of his lips against yours. When he pulled back, you waited for a second to see if he would do anything else. His weight disappeared like a ghost yet again, and with it, the last of your patience. A tear of frustration escaped your eye, but it was immediately absorbed into the blindfold. You curled up on the bed, feeling exposed. 

“Aww, cmon. I’ve got your surprise~” he said quietly. You perked up a little at that, hope sparking in you again. 

“Sit up,” he commanded. You followed instructions, and knelt on the bed, sitting on your heels. You felt Law climb onto the bed, sitting in front of you. 

“Hold out your hand. I’ll guide you so you can grab your surprise in the box,” he instructed. You held out a hand, and he grabbed your wrist with gentle fingers and guided your hand to your surprise. You jolted back a little as your fingers unexpectedly came into contact with something soft and fuzzy. You reached out again and grabbed it, looking at what you hoped was Law’s face with confusion. 

“If I take off the blindfold, can you behave yourself?” he asked quietly. You nodded frantically, and sat still. You felt his fingers drag up your outstretched arm, up your shoulder and neck, and slowly up your cheek before pulling the blindfold off in one swift motion, careful not to pull any of your hair in the process. You blink at the sudden light, even if it was dim. You focus on your boyfriend in front of you, then on the “surprise” your hand was holding in the box placed rather strategically between Law’s legs. You were holding what looked like the arm of a snow leopard plush. You pulled it out of the box, confusion on your face. 

“Speak to it as if you were speaking to me” he ordered with a smirk. You rolled your eyes. 

“Stop joking around. I brought out this new lingerie so you could give me the surprise,” You said. Law shook his head, a mischievous glint in his eye. 

“He is the surprise.” 

You gave him a flat look of disbelief, then looked down at the snow leopard. You had to admit, it was actually pretty adorable. You couldn’t help the soft smile that curved your lips as you looked down at it. 

“Well… thank you. He’s actually super cute,” you murmured. Law tugged it back. 

“You’ll only get it if you speak to it like you're speaking to me” he said, humor evident in his voice. You sighed and shook your head. You had no idea where he had even gotten this idea, nor where he was going with it. 

“Fine,” you snap. Your eyes land on the snow leopard, still held in Law’s hands. You begin speaking, feeling like a dumbass. 

“Well… mini Law, you know I love you, right?” you looked back up at your boyfriend for approval. He shook his head. 

“More.” 

You sighed heavily, and rolled your eyes. 

“You’re the only man I know who could make me do this and I’d still consider having sex with you right after,” you grumble. You snatched the plush from his hands and turned around, holding him up to eye-level. 

“Law, hypothetically, what would you tell your female friend if she told you that her boyfriend had been talking about a surprise for the bedroom all day, so she decided to bring out some brand new lingerie that she had embroidered with his Jolly Roger, and wore it under her sweatpants and shirt while she was making a delicious dinner for him, and then he teases her in the bedroom until she's literally crying from frustration of not being touched, and then he pulls a prank on her to give her a snow leopard plush as the surprise. What would you say?” 

You could feel Law rolling his eyes at your dramatics. You heard the huff of his sigh behind you, and for extra effect, you brought the snow leopard up to your ear, as if listening to what it had to say. 

“What’s that? You think she should make him sorry? I think so too. Thank you, Law!” 

“Oi,” Law said, annoyance seeping into his tone. You turn back to him and shrug, putting the plush by the pillows and crawl off the bed. You feel his eyes on you, watching your movements curiously. You stop by your dresser to grab some cozy pajamas, and strut to the ensuite bathroom. 

“Oi. What the hell do you think you're doing?” Law called from the bed, naked except for the box covering his softening dick. You scoffed from the bathroom. 

“You aren’t getting any tonight, Law,” your voice was muffled as you closed the door, and began stripping off the lingerie. 

“Oh c’mon, I know you’re bluffing. Just get back out here, I promise I’ll make it up to you,” he called, exasperation evident in his tone. You rolled your eyes, but said nothing, only walking out of the bathroom dressed in your pajamas, and tossed the lingerie set at Law. 

“Not bluffing. If you wanna play, you better know damn well who your opponent is, and you haven’t even seen even part of how stubborn I can be,” the smirk on your face was absolutely evil. He caught the lingerie, and looked at you skeptically. 

“Yeah? Whatcha gonna do now?” he asked, a sardonic grin lazily curved his lips. You hated how it made your heart flip in your chest. 

“Me? I’m going to go get a cup of sleepy time tea. Want any?” You slid on your slippers and walked to the door, looking at him curiously as your hand rested on the handle. His jaw dropped a little.

“Are you serious?” he said quietly. You only raised a single brow with a smirk on your lips. He rolled his eyes and stood from the bed. 

“Fine. Just give me a second.” he quickly put on some sweatpants, not bothering with a shirt. You waited until he was approaching you to open the door, leading the way through the submarine to the kitchen. He followed you, playing along with your demands. You reached the kitchen and started the kettle, dragging out two mugs and two tea bags as he leaned against the opposite counter. His gold eyes followed your movements closely, and you swallowed at his tousled hair, gray sweats that hung low, and his abs that seemed prominent in the low light of the stove light. Having run out of things to do, you finally faced him with a smirk and arms crossed over your chest. 

“So,” you started. He quirked a brow up, and smirked at you. 

“So…” he echoed. 

“You aren’t getting anything until you’re as desperate for me in that lingerie set as I was for you. I literally cried a little from frustration,” you complained. He scoffed. 

“You’re kidding me. We both know that you can’t resist me,” he said cockily. You rolled your eyes, smiling evilly

“Usually, no I can’t resist you. But I’ll resist just for the sake of being stubborn. I’ve got something to prove, and you have something to make up to me,” you said. His smirk widened at the challenge. 

“Uh huh. Fine. What are the conditions?” he said, catching on. You laughed a little, but it was more ominous than anything. 

“The conditions are that you won't get anything other than friendly touches from me. I’ll tease you, and I’ll wear you down until you break,” you say confidently. Law rolls his eyes. 

“Easy. You’ll break first,” he said. You pouted at him, but the kettle signaled that it was done, and you poured the water into the mugs, handing one to him. You looked at him as if you were concerned about something. 

“Did you not like the lingerie?” you ask sweetly. He choked a little on his tea, splashing the hot water on his bare chest. He sucked in a breath at the sting, and you handed him a towel, looking a little concerned. He waved off your concern. 

“I’m fine, don’t worry. But uh… I think… It made me… feel a way that I really liked. Possessive over you almost. It marks you as mine,” he stumbled over his words a little, a little blush on his cheeks. Your face lit up with understanding, morphing into something mischievous. You step forward until you could whisper in his ear.

“Ohhhh ~ so you really liked it, huh? Might want to remember exactly how I looked, laying under you, blindfolded and soaking through the thongs that had your mark right on my little clit. I needed you, Law. I was crying from frustration because that’s how much I needed you. I was helpless under your hands, willing to do anything to get you to fuck me. And now…” you stepped back and leaned against the opposite counter, “Now, I want you to come crawling to me, begging for my body like I was begging for you earlier,” you tease. Your eyes trail lustily over his lanky body, biting your bottom lip and letting it slide out from between your teeth seductively, and traced your tongue over your teeth as your eyes rested on his obvious erection in his sweats. You finally let your eyes trail up his tattooed torso, noticing the white-knuckled grip he had on the handle of his mug, and how his chest seemed to shakily rise and fall. You finally met his eyes, and put your mug of tea behind you, and let one hand trace your curves over your shirt, then raise the hem of your shirt until a sliver of underboob was showing. You used both hands to hold it up evenly, so only the underboob was showing, and then squished them together. Law wasn’t breathing, and you could see the seeds of regret beginning to sprout behind his eyes. You were honestly a little afraid he’d break the mug in his grip, but your attention was diverted to his dick straining through the gray sweats. You met his eyes, and winked at him as you dropped your shirt. You picked up your mug and nonchalantly walked out of the kitchen.

“Night, captain~” you teased as you left. He watched you leave, knowing he was stuck standing there until his dick calmed down, lest he run into a crew member with an erection bobbing in plain view. 

You went back to your shared room, and settled into bed. You had finished your entire mug of sleepy time tea and was starting to get ready for bed when Law finally walked into the room. You caught his gaze in the mirror as you brushed your teeth, and bent over the sink, sticking your underwear-clad ass out in clear view as you spat and rinsed your mouth. Law looked up to the ceiling, head falling back as if he were asking the gods for mercy. You finished getting ready and crawled into bed, yawning as you curled up under the blankets. By the time Law had finished getting ready for bed, you were half asleep. He crawled into bed next to you, and ran a finger down your face. 

“I love you… you know that?” he murmured sleepily. You hummed and nodded. 

“You’re still not getting a kiss, but I love you too. Unconditionally,” you answered. He snorted a little at your answer before landing a kiss on your forehead. You were too tired to argue, and it felt good after being denied so much of his touch earlier. He laid facing you, the both of you drifting to sleep quickly. 

Two days. 

He lasted two days. 

The night after you had set the rules, he could only think of you laying under him, squirming and soaking the lingerie. The stockings hugging your thighs, tight enough that there was a little bulge at the top of them, and garters decorating your hips. The strings of the thong were also decorating your hips, with his Jolly Roger rubbing over your sensitive clit as you spread your legs for him. The gold rings glinted down your midline, with crisscrossing silky strands accentuating your curves, and moved with every heave of your breath. The mesh bralette was the final touch, a flimsy thing that rubbed your sensitive nipples into hard buds with the stimulation his embroidered Jolly Roger provided. The night after he accepted your terms, he woke up humping the mattress, on the verge of an orgasm. You only woke up when he got up to go to the bathroom, and he quickly hushed you, reassuring you he would be right back. The following day, he locked himself in his office, claiming something about expense reports and researching something about the island they were approaching. 

You knew damn well that he was avoiding you, hoping to win this bet if he didn’t see you tease him. Unfortunately for him, you’d bring him snacks and drinks through the day, always leaving him a blushing, scowling mess as he sat at his desk, waiting for his erection to go down before he could stand again. 

It was at dinner on the second day that he approached you, leaning down to whisper in your ear as he passed by you. 

“Meet me in our room later,” was all he said. You smirked to yourself, and you had every right to. 

After dinner, you strolled back to your room slowly. You took your time, making him wait like you had to two nights ago. You finally opened the door, and quickly shut it as you saw the view in front of you. Law was kneeling in front of the door, naked with a throbbing and leaking dick. He was blushing, and you looked down at him in shock. 

“L-law?” you whispered. He looked up at you, and pointed to the bed. You looked, and saw your lingerie set laid out carefully on the bed, next to the blindfold. 

“You win. I can’t… I need you. P-ple… fuck. Please? No matter how many times I cum, it doesn’t feel as good as it does with you. I can’t… I can’t get it right,” he nearly whimpered. 

Your jaw dropped. Trafalgar Water D. Law, Captain of the Heart Pirates and the so-called Surgeon of Death, was on his knees begging for you to put on your lingerie embroidered with his Jolly Roger and to make him cum. You started yourself starting to get wet, and you swiftly knelt down in front of him. 

“Okay. Okay sweetie. C’mere,” you gently cupped his scruffy jaw in your palms and kissed him deeply. Your tongues clashed together, and he let you win the battle for dominance quickly, moaning as he finally touched you. You pulled back, and looked at him with a grin. 

“Just let me go get changed, and you decide if you want to be more dom or sub tonight, okay? If you’re sub, I want you to be wearing the blindfold. If you’re dom, I want you to put it on me once I’m on the bed, okay?” 

He nodded, and kissed you again briefly before standing. You stood with him, and gave him a flirtatious smile as you grabbed the lingerie from the bed. 

“I’ll be right back… wait for me.” 

“Always.”

#one piece x reader #one piece fanfiction #one piece fluff #one piece x y/n #trafalgar d law x reader #law smut #one piece law #law one piece #law x reader #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar law fluff #trafalgar law is a little shit

[facefullofsadness]

Not to beg but PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEEEEEAAAASSSEEEE can you do a part 2 to the psychopathic but it's okay band au thing and what the dynamic is like afterwards and maybe the rest of the girls catching on to something going between them

oooo okay, I never thought about it but NOW YOU GOT ME THINKING

content - aftermath of psychopathic but it's okay

wc - 2936

a/n - the "not to beg but PLEASE" was rlly funny btw. kinda in love with this universe now after writing this

the days after you and yunjin hooked up were... hm.

things were god fucking awkward to say the least. waking up alone after passing out on the practice room couch to seeing all your bandmates the following day, including jen (who actually showed up on time). the tension in that room was so palpable, it almost felt like you could reach out and touch it, feel it in your hands. the other girls shifted uneasily with you two in their proximity, messing with strings or keys on their instruments.

that was until chaewon clapped her hands and got everyone's attention, "okay guys, from the top."

practice went on as usual, yunjin surprisingly being in sync with the band (much to everyone's relief). the day continued with not a word being spoken by either of you two, only responding when being spoken to, not even throwing each other a glance. and when it ended, jen was the first to leave, packing up her shit and dipping so quickly. you scrambled to follow suit, not to go after her, but to not be interrogated by the older members.

unfortunately for you, sakura was already leaning against the door before you could even reach for it. chaewon had shooed away kazuha and eunchae so the two older girls could talk to you privately first, telling zuha to occupy the youngest (and maybe probe at yunjin). you sigh at kura's expectant expression, arms crossed and foot tapping on the floor, her eyebrows raising as if expecting you to say something. you turn to look at chaewon, her hands on her hips, the same expression plastered on her face.

you slump onto the couch, the same one yunjin had fucked you on the day before, burying your face in your hands and grumbling.

"whaaatttt?" you groan out the question into the air.

"you wanna tell me what happened after we left yesterday?" chaewon opens up first, plopping herself down onto one of the office chairs in the room, pulling it up next to you.

you turn away from her and sigh, "nothing happened."

"really? nothing happened? that's it?" sakura scoffs and leans against chaewon's chair.

you roll your eyes and rest your chin on your fist, looking up at them, "yes kura, nothing happened. why, what do you guys think?"

they exchange a look of disbelief before chaewon chuckles, "really? you and yunjin left alone in a room together to argue and nothing happened? y/n, even eunchae knows something went down."

"why? why does it matter? it's not like anything's changed," you say.

"you guys aren't talking. like shit, you guys didn't even argue today. you know how weird it is that you guys didn't even look like you wanted to murder each other?" sakura pushes.

"you know what?" you get up, collecting your stuff and heading towards the door, grabbing the handle and pulling it open, "ask yunjin then, because I don't know what the fuck happened either."

you leave, slamming the door shut. the two girls sigh and look at each other.

"what do you think happened?" chaewon asks, looking up at the older.

"could honestly be anything, but I don't think it's too wild to think that maybe it was something that made it so that they might not hate each other as much anymore," sakura contemplates, "I don't know what that might be, but something definitely happened."

on the other side of town, yunjin sits at a convenience store, triangle kimbap in one hand, her face in the other. she groans when she hears a familiar voice calling out for her.

"fuck off zuha," she grunts, feeling the chair next to her become occupied, long black hair shifting into view.

"you know what I'm here for, just tell me and I'll go. eunchae's waiting nearby expecting ice cream so I expect you to make it quick," kazuha boldly states, arms crossed on the table, leaning in towards jennifer.

she lifts her head up and glares at the younger girl with a scowl, "and why the fuck would I ever tell you anything?"

the former smirks, "why? do you have something to hide?"

yunjin aggressively takes a bite out of her rice ball and replies, mouth stuffed, "it's not like you cared about anything else before, why're you here now?"

"because unlike your bitch ass, I actually care about y/n. if you did something to her, I'll never forgive you jennifer," kazuha states.

yunjin looks up at her with her jaw clenched, kazuha's eyes fiery and wild. it makes her scoff, "gee, if you wanted to fuck y/n that bad, you could've just said so."

kazuha grabs the taller girl's collar and balls the material in her hand, "if you hurt y/n yunjin, I'll end you. I don't care about your guys' petty and childish arguments but whatever happened yesterday made her look like a shell of her former self. you did something, and I need to know what."

jen gulped. she had never seen her bandmate so enraged before, her expression angry and serious. while on the inside yunjin was pretty shaken up, she kept the facade of looking relaxed on as she releases a shaky sigh and responds.

"that is none of your business kazuha. if you cared so much about her, ask y/n yourself."

it's not fair and jen knew it. she was the one that snapped back at you in the first place yesterday, resulting in the arguing, and was also the one to initiate the sex. but she didn't know what to say. to be frank, she was scared. she woke up before you did, panicked while looking around the abandoned practice room, laying on top of your sleeping body. the wave of guilt that washed over her when she processed everything that had happened, scrambling to get dressed and leave before you awoke.

she didn't know what to do. she was the one that started the mess, but she didn't know how to clean it up.

the fire continued to rage in kazuha's eyes, drilling holes through yunjin's head. she let out an angry huff before releasing the girl's collar and standing up straight.

"I don't give a fuck about you yunjin nor do I want to and I really don't care about getting to know you. but even after that, what I do know is that you're either stupid or a fucking coward."

with that, she turned and left the store (heading off to buy eunchae some ice cream no doubt!).

her words resonate in yunjin's head. coward... she's right... I'm a fucking coward, she thought.

it didn't get better with time. everyone just became more on edge and the tension in that practice room never diminished. after the older members discussed their conversation with you to kazuha and vice versa about the yunjin conversation, they were just left a little more lost. they didn't wanna recruit the sweet and innocent youngest and get her wrapped up in the situation, but she was already unfortunately caught in crossfire at this point. and so they did.

eunchae asking you to walk her home today because everybody else was too busy to accompany her, so you say yes because that's your baby! rushing you two out of the door after practice is over and telling her to just stay silent the entire trip to her place. it pained you to a degree to make the talkative younger girl stay silent, but for both you and her, it was better to keep it this way. though of course, your little baby was just too curious (and obedient to sakura, chaewon, and kazuha) to listen to your demand.

"I know it's not really my place to ask, but you and yunjin... the tension is messing us all up and it's not helping," the youngest speaks up.

you sigh and stop walking, breathing out into the cold air with your hands shoved in your pockets. she stops walking too, a couple steps away to give you your space.

you continue to look up into the night sky, "I know eunchae, I know."

the silence hangs with you looking up and her looking down, the cement less intimidating then your pondering posture.

"it's... complicated," you state in the easiest way you deem possible, "we don't like each other, at least that's what I thought. I suppose maybe something changed, but yunjin's too fucking shallow to admit anything."

eunchae's attention is immediately grabbed by your decision to open up. she looks up from the floor and at you, curious eyes in your peripheral coming from the girl.

"you haven't talked to her yet? I mean, since a few days ago? or at all?" a simple question and maybe even solution falls from the younger's lips, if only she understood how hard it was.

you heave a sigh, hanging your hand and then looking back up, "no, to all three questions."

"well, why not?"

"she's..." you stifle a laugh, "insane, to say the least. rude, mean, always angry. it's like if I even try, she wouldn't even listen."

she nods her head slowly, "maybe you can try now. you've never tried before right? maybe after everything that happened, you can finally try."

you stare at her for a few seconds, the sound of cars passing by on the street next to you. a small smile creeps onto your face and you blink slowly at the younger. what a good kid.

"okay eunchae, I'll try," you grab for her hand, taking it in your own, and walk her to the nearest place to get ice cream.

yunjin always goes out on nights like this to her favorite spot. everyone knows to find her there, sitting or laying down on a blanket looking up at the sky or leaning against the railing looking out towards the city lights. the roof of her apartment building, 12 floors up, music playing from her speaker, and an alcoholic drink in her grasp at times. lord knows, tonight she needs it. the past few nights she's needed it.

the elevator dings and the doors open to the rooftop. you walk out and there she is, leaning against the railing, face resting against her fist, her other hand swirling the half empty bottle of beer, looking out towards the night lights as music played. you take a deep breath and make your way reluctantly towards her. she doesn't budge when you take up the space a few feet away from her, standing with your hands in your jacket pockets, following her gaze of the view.

the silence is, comfortable. the tension is there but you're existing in the same area as yunjin and you're not screaming at each other (yet), so it's peaceful for as long as it lasts. and it lasts for a long time. standing there, breathing the same air, listening to the same music, heart beats increasing at the same rate, thoughts of what to say to break the silence both ringing in your heads.

surprisingly, you hear her voice begin, "you know, I really need you to be the person to speak first."

"you and I both know that's not fair, jen. you can't be the one to fuck everything up and make me be the person to repair it."

it's so much easier for her to be mad at you if you're the one to unleash anger at her. it'd be so much easier to hate you if you hated her. it'd be so much easier to say what she wanted to say if you felt the same way and told her first.

she stutters, you can see her eyes flicker out of the corner of your vision, "you... you're right."

yunjin repeats the phrase under her breath as you turn your head to look at her. her hands are messing with the glass bottle, stare affixed onto it.

she sighs and hangs her head, "I-I... I'm scared y/n."

you barely hear her speak, but it's loud enough for you to process, feeling your rapidly beating heart stop. huh yunjin is scared. she's scared and it's because of you.

you bite the inside of your cheek as she continues to stutter, "I don't know what this is, what I'm feeling. I-I'm confused. I fucking hate you, god I hate you so much. you annoy me, you anger me, you enrage me, everything you do makes my blood boil. so why can't I stop thinking about you? why do I feel so obsessed with you? you're the only thing that lives in my mind."

she looks up at the sky before continuing, "I've never been so fucking infatuated with a person in my entire life, so why now? and why you? what is it that I'm feeling? I get so angry with you, when you finally fuck something up, when you yell at me, when you roll your eyes because of me. I deserve the way you treat me, but you don't deserve that, so why do I do it? I've thought about it a lot but I don't want to anymore. why are you always in my head?"

you take the smallest step towards her and clear your throat to respond, but she stops you, "I know you're just friends with kazuha, but I can't help but feel my stomach churn when you're with her. I know it's a simple mistake when you misplace my hairbrush or accidentally eat my share of food, but I can't help but to snap at you. I know it's my fault for giving my less than adequate effort during practice, but it's so much easier to get angry at you for caring. you're just so perfect all the time, I can't help but to despise you for it. and I hate that maybe the part of me that hates you doesn't exist. I'm..."

"jealous," you finally get a word in, interrupting her instead of letting her finish.

it's true. she felt good whenever you would fuck up because it meant perfect little y/n wasn't so perfect. always writing or composing new music, always practicing and refining her craft, always being the nicest to the members, always trying and being the absolute best. yunjin felt threatened because she couldn't relate. yunjin felt jealous because she wanted what you had, stability. yunjin also felt jealous because she wanted you, and she couldn't have you.

the silence engulfs the air surrounding the two of you, the cold breeze suddenly heating up. it breaks early, your laugh piercing through the stillness, making the dark haired girl turn her head to look at you. you continue to laugh genuinely, the melodious sound ringing through yunjin's confused ears.

you sigh after recovering, wiping tears in your eyes, "did you just admit that you have a crush on me with all of that?"

the tall girl gulps and stumbles over her words, "h-huh? wh-what no? no no never! I mean what the fuck are you talking about? I-I was just trying to e-explain~!"

you run up and grasp her face in your hands, smashing your lips against hers, shutting her up quickly. her eyes bulge out of their sockets, looking down at your closed ones melting into her. she settles after the shock subsides, closing her eyes and bringing her hands to grip your waist, throwing the half full beer bottle onto the floor somewhere, not caring about it shattering. she pulls you in closer, moving her lips against yours passionately as you push her back against the railing.

the kiss is so intimate, your fingers lacing through her hair and her calloused fingertips rubbing the skin of your lower back. your mouths mold together as one moving unit, tongues clashing and saliva building up, the taste of cheap alcohol on yunjin's lips mixing with your melon ice cream flavored ones. you makeout until you can't breathe, your grips becoming stronger and stronger as the both of you beg the other not to pull away even if you so badly need to, pulling each other in closer like it's a challenge to stop if you dare do so.

it ends when her fingernails dig into your sides and a choked breath escapes your throat, pulling away a little in pain, panting and almost coughing like the air had been sucked from your lungs. you bury your face into her neck and bite down on her skin until you hear her whine at the pain, looking down to see the indent of your teeth, leaning back in to make a hickey, marking your territory on huh yunjin.

you whisper loud enough for her to hear against her skin, "you are fucking stupid and a coward, just a scared little girl."

she closes her eyes at your words and your mouth on her neck, "but if you try to be a better person, then maybe I'm okay with it."

"I'm sorry y/n, for everything." yunjin pulls you away from her and makes you look into her sorry-filled eyes.

you bring your hand up to caress her cheek then pinch it, giggling in her face, "you better be jen. you have a lot of work to do before you get a free redemption arc, you know that right?"

she bites her lip and nods, "I-I know..."

you feel your heart fill with warmth as yunjin's cheeks burn a bright red and darken as time goes on. ah, you're never letting her live this down.

you remember to buy a gallon tub of ice cream for hong eunchae.

a/n - everyone say TYSM EUNCHAEEEE!!! never thought I'd expand on this universe but this was fun to revisit! the og has gotten so much fucking love in the past TWO MONTHS NOW so ty guys for the support on it, I never thought I'd make it this far <333 sob sob I love yall

#ffos reqs #le sserafim #yunjin #le sserafim yunjin #le sserafim fanfic #le sserafim angst #le sserafim fluff #le sserafim x reader #huh yunjin #jennifer huh #yunjin fluff #yunjin angst #yunjin x reader #yunjin fanfic #kpop gg #fanfiction #kpop #girl group fluff #girl group angst #girl group fanfic #girl group x reader #sakura #chaewon #kazuha #eunchae

[silassinclair]

Hi!

Can I request Maddox with a darling who lives to read, maybe he catches her reading some old romance books in an abandoned house they shack up in or something like that

Btw I live your writing ♥️

As someone who loves to read I am obligated to write for this req 😤🫡 Thanks for the request tho!! Hope you like it :-)

Yandere Wild West Outlaw x Bookworm Reader

CW// Maddox is annoying, Reader being a little perv Masterlist Here!!

The new house Maddox found was lovely. It had decently okay furniture and a vast collection of old books on the shelf. It's small with only two bedrooms and one bathroom but it was charming. But what caught your interest was the big oak wood bookshelf. You couldn't even remember the last time you picked up a book. Being on the run with Maddox made time fly.

"Who would leave all these books behind? They're all in great condition." You mutter to yourself as you take a blue and purple book with gold trim off the shelf. Tracing your fingers down the spine of the hardcover novel you appreciate the craftsmanship. It was clearly expensive, something you could no longer afford. Your Dad bought you many books like these but now you were pretty much broke. You only had Maddox to rely on now.

Speaking of Maddox you had no clue where he was. Which you didn't really care, he always disturbed your peace. Cracking open the book you sit down on the loveseat and start reading. It was a romance book about a huntsman who fell in love with a duchess. The story was beautiful as it was exhilarating.

"Oh wow, you into that kinda stuff?"

You snap the book shut instantly, a mini cloud of dust poofs from the pages. Maddox chuckles huskily behind you, leaning down and resting his chin on the back of the loveseat.

"Oh don't be embarrassed princess, it was getting to the good part. What did it say again? Oh! Ahem-"

Maddox coughs into his hand and smirks. Deepening his voice he quotes the passage in a deep, British-like accent,

"He caresses the duchess' milky thighs, her womb felt of silk wrapped around his ma-"

"OH HUSH!" You whip around and smack the outlaw's head, his hat nearly flying off. But he only laughs at your flustered state.

"You're filthy." You groan and put the book back on the shelf where it was. But Maddox follows behind you and takes the book into his own hands and opens it up. Skimming through the pages he smirks.

"I'm filthy? Sweetheart you're the one readin' this junk." Maddox shuts the book and puts it back. Putting his hand up on the shelf he leans against it while looking down at your shorter self.

"Well it is a romance book." Rolling your eyes you choose a different book. This time you pick a title you're familiar with, Pride and Prejudice.

"Now leave me alone you brute. I'd like to relax for once." With that you walk away and go outside. Finding a nice tree you sit beneath it and read the book. Reading reminded you of home, the home that was ripped from you. In a way it was escapism which is unhealthy but a girl can dream right?

Hours pass and the sun begins to set, casting an orange glow across the cloudy sky. The words on the page become harder to read as the sun sinks lower and the moon rises. You didn't want it to end. You know you could read inside but that damn outlaw was inside. You just wanted to stay out here forever with the natural ambience of wind and birds.

Footsteps approach you and you already know who it is. Looking up you see him. Black denim jeans, a burgundy vest, twin revolvers around his waist, and a dark brown cowboy hat on his head. And of course that bandana covering the bottom half of his face. Anytime you asked him about his face he got ticked off so you avoided the subject. But you couldn't help but be curious.

"You're starin' sweetheart." His husky voice breaks the silence. There’s a hint of a Spanish accent mixed in with his Southern drawl. You can't help but think about what it would be like if you and him met under different circumstances. Would he save you from bandits? Offer to buy you a drink at the saloon?

Would you two have a storybook romance just like in the books you adore?

"Hey."

He's right in front of you now, crouched to your height. His gloved hand pets your hair and you're frozen. He has you in a trance that you make no effort to free yourself from. His dark amber eyes are crinkled in slight concern over your unusual silence.

"What..?" You say softly.

"It's gettin' dark. Unless you wanna be dinner for the coyotes then I suggest comin' back in. I'll cook up some beans so hurry your little bum up."

Well there goes the moment. You groan and get up off the grass, your back cracking as you stretch. Your eyes watch as Maddox walks back into the house. His hips sway as he walks, you never really payed attention to that before. His ass looks pretty round in those pants to-

"Ugh, what is wrong with me.." Groaning, you follow after him.

#yandere #yandere x reader #x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #obsession #maddox graves #yandere cowboy #cowboy #western

[softtdaisy]

DESCRIPTION I Everybody respect Charles, your boyfriend. Ironically, they don't know he's the same man they are all afraid of these days.

PAIRING I Charles Leclerc × reader

WORDS COUNT I 2,2k

A/N I Happy halloween my loves!! I couldn't not write anything for this day, I love halloween so much. And I mean, Charles as ghostface is kinda hot no? 👀

Ghostface. That’s the subject everyone was talking about for weeks now. It was in everyone's mouth. Fear, anger and excitement: these were the main feelings people had about him. Or her, for what they know it could be anybody.

“It has to be someone who’s lonely. Why would they kill all these people otherwise?” you heard a girl from your class say.

You were all outside, waiting for your next class. If Ghostface had been the main subject before, it was even more true today. They found someone else's body this morning.

The captain of the basketball team, Max Verstappen.

Until today, the victims were mostly…Well there was nobody, sadly. Or at least, not someone whose death would be as commented on as the star of the school.

The first victim was a teacher’s assistant, which led people to believe either she had slept with the killer or it was some kind of jealousy.

Then there was a member of the chess club. And as much as he was appreciated by everyone, he wasn’t that popular.

Neither were the two girls who had a terrible crash last weekend. It could have been an “ordinary” crash. But the mask was there. Like a proof.

“I’m not so sure about that.”

You turned around to look at your boyfriend, sitting behind you with his hand on your hair.

Charles knew Max pretty well since they were in the same team. He hadn’t said much since you discovered the murder. Not like he said much about the other victims either. 

They all turned their heads to look at him. Charles was highly charismatic with his gorgeous smile, his perfect green and his curly brown hair falling on his forehead. He had some mystery in him. Nobody could really read into him.

Well you could. But you were probably the only one.

The hand that was in your hair slowly moved so he could pass his arm around your neck and keep you close between his legs. “Is it too easy to think it’s someone with no power? Why can’t it be someone who has control over everyone here?”

Everyone stayed silent. Because the idea, somehow, was even more frightening. It could be anybody. From a classmate, to a friend, to a teacher, to a coach, to their partner or their worst enemy. 

What Charles was implying was that nobody was safe.

The silence was suddenly broken by Pierre and his burst of laughter. “You would a fucking cool killer, dude.” He said, bringing his hand to Charles. It took him a few seconds before smiling and checking his best friend’s hand. 

A few seconds that nobody noticed.

“Maybe I should cancel the party tonight.”

You always organized a party the night before Halloween. There was something exciting with starting the festivities earlier than everyone else. Things always seemed to happen during that night. Like people testing their limits, couples acting like there was no tomorrow. You didn’t want to cancel. But was it worth it to risk everyone’s life for your own pleasure?

Weirdly enough, all your friends started to protest against your offer. Apparently you weren’t the only one who loved this party so much. 

“It’s the best night of the year!”

”I waited all year for this, you can’t do that!”

“I didn’t prepare my outfit for nothing, trust me.”

You laughed a little at all their remarks. But the most important one came from behind you. When Charles tightened his grip around your neck so you could come closer to him. You felt his wild hair against your cheek and his breath against your temple. You closed your eyes for a second. Hoping you could be in a private room instead of outside, with everyone.

Not that it has ever been a problem before.

“We all deserve a good night of peace, right?” he whispered in your ear. You felt it in your bones. And when he kissed your cheek, which provoqued again some reactions from your friends, you knew he had won. Charles always gets what he wants.

And he wanted that party to happen.

There was no surprise when everyone came up to your place that night. All dressed up with a mix between “party like tomorrow doesn’t exist” and “we shouldn’t be afraid about what’s happening outside.” You didn’t mind that. You even loved that.

Charles looked deliciously handsome in an all black outfit that was complimenting his eyes, making them look even more percent and vibrant. That was the only thing you saw in the dark. It was even more disturbing for some people when he looked at them: they felt trapped. Like by coming here, they had just walked into the lion’s den.

Maybe they were right. 

“Oh fuck.”

Every light in your house went down suddenly. Just like the music and, basically, everything electronic. You tighten your grip at Charles’ arm from the sudden silence. This was absolutely not part of your night.

“Can someone give it a look?” you heard in the middle of the complaints. You rolled your eyes. Why is it always easier to ask someone else something you’re too scared to do?”

“I’ll go.” Charles said. You didn’t get the time to convince to stay. Your boyfriend kissed your hair before disappearing in the dark. Everybody seemed to trust him with that task. Slowly, they all started to talk and act like nothing happened. Like they weren’t in the dark in a big house in a town where there was a killer around. They all seemed to forget about the situation.

Now by yourself without Charles, you walked to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. A glass you immediately drop on the floor when you notice a silhouette in the middle of the room. Your scream resonated in the whole house and stopped every conversation…only for more screams to come.

Like they all understood why you were screaming.

It wasn’t that hard to guess, anyway.

Just like everyone, you started to run away and find yourself in your own bedroom. One killer for a whole house. And of course he choose you.

You could feel a presence right behind you. And when you turned around, you knew you were right. There he was, dominating you with his tall figure. Even if you couldn’t see a thing with his mask, you could feel his smirk. You could feel his satisfaction of finding you. You took a step back, forgetting about the wall behind you. You trapped yourself. Like a poor victim.

“Found.” he whispered, putting his body against yours. He didn’t lose any seconds before bringing his knife under your chin. Menacing you with the sharp blade against your skin. The worst part was probably to feel a drop running down your neck. 

And knowing it wasn’t your blood.

He approached his face, pressing his mask against your cheek. “You’re such a bitch.” You heard him laugh. And for a second, you acted scared.

Only for a second.

“But I’m your boss’ bitch, so I’m still above you.” you whispered, just like he did. Because there was no reason Pierre could be the only one to act so scary and dominant. You could imagine how frustrating it must be for him.

Charles chose him to do the killing. He trusted him enough for this.

But Charles would still choose you over him.

Pierre pressed his body a little harder against yours. You could feel every muscle, every curve against your skin. You wanted to test his limits. Not only to tease him. Because you had no idea where he would stop. Would he hurt you? Would he really risk his friendship with Charles to avenge his jealousy? You wanted to know. You were dying to know.

You were probably the only one.

“Let her go.”

You suddenly heard this voice. This deep, dark voice that probably appears in some people’s nightmare.

Pierre immediately froze. He wanted to continue. He wanted to hurt you. But he knew he couldn’t. If he dared touch a single hair from your head, it was his own that would be on the floor in the next minute. He kept looking at you like maybe you would let him hurt you. Once. He honestly believed you would.

What a fool.

Before he walked back by himself, Charles grabbed him by the neck and threw him on the floor. He didn’t even look at you, it wasn’t even important. He knew you were safe now. And he knew you had nothing. 

You watched him put his foot on Pierre’s chest to keep him down. 

None of them speak. The silence was more threatening than any words. 

One move and Charles could harm him.

One move and Charles could kill him.

Charles suddenly turned around to look at you. You couldn’t see anything. Not his eyes that were undressing you, even in this situation. Not his lips that were curled in a grin.

But you still understood him. With the slight move he made with his head. You nod before running to another room. You were sure what Charles had planned for his teammate.

It wasn’t until an hour later that you knew.

When you saw Pierre leaving your house with his girlfriend by his side. “Everything is fine?” you asked them, like you did with every other guest that got attacked tonight. For a second, you really thought he would grass you up. Especially with the way he held his girl closer to him. Like he wanted to protect her from you. Like he wasn’t the killer in your house.

“Just some bruises from the fight.” That’s all he said before grabbing her hand and leading her away. 

Once everyone had left the house, you went upstairs to take a bath. You deserved a good moment of relaxation after that messy night.

And you made yourself perfectly comfortable: bubble bath with essential oil, music loud enough to forget about the world outside.

You could feel him here. You knew he was standing there, watching you. And just for the pleasure of it, you stayed with your eyes closed. Making him wait. Until you couldn’t contain the smile on your face. You loved this situation way too much.

“You want to play psycho killer?” you asked, in a low voice.

You opened your eyes and turned your head to watch Charles walk to you. He was still wearing most of his costume, except for the mask. But he didn’t need it. There was something even more scary in seeing his perfect son-in-law's face that nobody would suspect and knowing it was such a mess in his mind that he had to kill people to calm the voices in his head.

He was standing right in front of the bathtub, his knees sticking to the marble and his body dominating yours completely. If he wasn’t your boyfriend, you would be scared. 

Maybe you should.

You watched his hand coming to your neck and felt his fingers pressing against your skin. You were breathless for a few seconds, like you had a blackout and forgot everything. Your place, your relationship.

But not for long.

“No please don’t kill me Mr Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel.” you said with a fake scared and innocent voice. You loved playing that game with Charles. Because you never knew where his limits would be.

And tonight they seemed pretty high. Because you didn’t have the time to think before he dived your head into the water. Surprised, you didn’t breath before and started to cough almost immediately. And the fact he was still squeezing your neck clearly didn’t help. But you weren’t scared. Even if the seconds started to grow longer. Even if there was indeed something quite weird in seeing the face of the man you loved above yours, watching you struggling under the water.

Because in the end. Charles loved you.

And you probably were the only person he had feelings for.

So it wasn’t such a relief when he helped you resurface and caressed your back while you were catching your breath back. You knew he wouldn’t kill you. Not you.

You turned your head to look at him and that’s when you noticed the proof from the night that just went by. “You still have blood on you.” you brought one of your wet hands to his chest and started to undress him. “Come with me.” 

“You realized you’re just as fucked up as I am, right? “ Charles asked you when he entered the bath and put himself right behind you. You were trapped between his body, his muscled legs encircling yours and his arms holding you against him. His bloody hands were on your body and the way he was touching you was too romantic to think about what those hands did earlier. 

You looked at him and noticed how his face was softening slowly. His eyes were less threatening and more loving and you couldn’t help to think it was because of the love he had for you. He even had a small smile on his face and you could resist kissing the little dimple that was coming out. “I guess we make a great couple then.” you replied before taking the soap to wash the stains from the night.

Washing the horror away and becoming a normal couple again.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc angst #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #ghostface #my writing

[ikigaisvt]

Who's the horniest of them all?

in which your boyfriend lets you get a taste of his best friend.

pairing: jeonghan x reader x seungcheol, dom!jeonghan x sub!reader x dom!seungcheol (with a hint of dom!seungcheol x sub!jeonghan) words: 1k content: smut warnings: threesome, dirty talk, begging, slight degradation, slight praising, masturbation (m), cum play, overstimulation, kinda brat reader, brat taming, a little m x m, implied future threesome (again), crush on someone when in a relationship, reader has female parts, tipsy reader (but not drunk sex!), petnames (for reader: angel, attagirl, baby, brat, slut, sweetheart, sweet thing / for jeonghan: baby, brat) note: im sick in the head pt.2... MINORS DNI. you will be blocked. this is the second part of mirror, mirror on the wall but you can read this as a one shot! i thought about writing this part since i posted the first part and here it is,,, i hope everyone likes it!! pls don't forget to reblog and give feedbacks if you want to!

part 1

"Hannie-" you sob, more to yourself than to the two men in the room. You never thought your night would end up like this.

You knew, when you first started to fuck (literally) around with your boyfriend, that he was wild. That he was going to pull out a new side of you, a side you never knew existed- even though he likes saying you were the one to make him kinkier. Classic Yoon Jeonghan.

But what you didn't knew, what you think was never going to happen was Jeonghan inviting a third person, one of his best friends at that, into your sex life- even if it is a one-time thing.

The first time you met Seungcheol, you couldn't deny the attraction you felt for him. He is a handsome man and that is a well-known fact from his friends but also from him. He is confident and that somehow, always pull at your heart string. But no matter how attractive you found him, you could never act on it for the sake of your relationship. You were attracted, not in love, and that was enough to let go of the harmless crush. Until that one night.

Until that one night you had a little too much to drink and you were buzzing with excitement. Until that one night you were sticking up to Seungcheol's side while your boyfriend was sending you daggers from across the room. Until that one night when your boyfriend made you beg for his best friend while he was fucking you.

All of these moments led to Seungcheol, sitting in a chair in front of you, dick out and hard, oozing with cum, groaning every time you moan, your boyfriend fucking you open as you sit on his dick.

"No, no, baby, say his name." Jeonghan commands sternly, "Today's about Seungcheol, isn't it?" he says in a provoking tone.

"Jeonghan, baby- I can't-" You whine out, the shyness making you blush all the way down to your chest.

"Why feeling so shy, angel, hm?" Jeonghan teases, "You weren't shy the other night when I told you to beg for him, hm? Why shy now?" he continues as he kisses down your neck.

"I'm not shy- I just-" You lie in a stutter, trying to get out of admitting your attraction to the blonde man in front of you until the last second.

"You know liars don't get what they want, don't you?" your boyfriend asks you as he pounds into you even harder.

"I-I'm not a liar." you fight back, a moan building up in your throat as you lock eyes with Seungcheol.

"Yeah? You can't bring yourself to moan for him when he's right there, huh? That's too much for your little brain, isn't it?" he says in a chuckle.

"Fuck you, Hannie-" you fight back as you close your eyes, feeling the pleasure build in the pit of your stomach.

"Oh, I so am, baby." he answers in a smirk, "And you're loving it. You're so wet baby, fuck-" he says in a breath, "Who is it for, baby, hm? Me or him?"

"F-For both of you," you mumble in a mewl, "Fuck- I need to cum, please."

"You know you can't do that." Seungcheol answers your plea, stopping his movement on his dick as Jeonghan stops slamming into you, a hand on your hip as you whimper, "Seungcheol decides when you get to cum tonight, remember? It's all about him." Jeonghan repeats as if he is trying to rile Seungcheol up.

"Fuck- yeah, okay." you answer, knowing saying no wasn't an option right now. You wanted this night to happen maybe more than the two boys, no matter what you had to give up.

"Yeah angel, I decide tonight," Seungcheol reminds you with his deep voice as he gets up and kneels in front of you, "You okay with that, yeah?" he questions as you nod, "Speak up for me, baby, would you?"

"Y-yeah, sorry- I will," you say as Jeonghan starts moving again, making you moan out.

"That's a good girl," Seungcheol sneers, "You like what Jeonghan's doing, hm? He's treating you right?"

"Hm, hm- yeah- feels so good." you sob as Jeonghan fucks up into you harder, faster, deeper.

"Wanna cum?" Seungcheol asks you in a smirk, his hand finding your clit.

"Yes- please, let me cum, please, please-" you beg, feeling the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter as you feel his thick fingers rubbing you closer to the brim.

"Think you can hold it off for me, hm?" he asks, as you whine at the thought, "I think Jeonghan is gonna cum." he sneers as he locks eyes with your boyfriend, feeling Jeonghan's hand squeeze at your hips.

"N-no, I can't-" you answer, shutting your eyes tightly and resting your head on Jeonghan's shoulder, "I- need to cum with Hannie-"

"Fuck- angel, you're so good to me, aren't you?" your boyfriend asks, his moans getting louder and louder.

"You wanted me to fuck the brattiness out of her, but you're one of a pair, hm? Just two brats wanting to be treated like royalty." Seungcheol chuckles, teasing the both of you, getting you closer and closer to the edge, "Maybe next time I need to tame you." He says, looking straight into Jeonghan's eyes, "Go ahead, you can cum. Both of you." he says, looking back and forth between you two.

You feel like the wave is infinitely coming, the pleasure not stopping for a few minutes even when Jeonghan pulls out, his cum dripping out of you as he sets you on the bed. You're not even able to catch your breath that a set of hands grabs you by the hips and turns you over, ass up.

"fuck- Jeonghan came so much,” Seungcheol says in a breath, “I'm gonna fuck it back into you," you hear Seungcheol whisper, as you open your eyes and reach for your boyfriend's hands as he sits down with his back against the headboard, "Did it felt good, angel?" Seungcheol asks from behind you as you moan out an affirmation, "I'm gonna fuck that pretty pussy so hard."

"Yeah- please-" you sob as you buck your hips up towards him.

"Our slut wants more, Jeonghan." Seungcheol sneers, his hands holding your hips down.

"Then give her more," Jeonghan says, your eyes locking as he smirks, "Hold on tight, attagirl."

“And I’d better hear that pretty mouth moan my name, got it, sweet thing?” Seungcheol says as he thrusts into you.

thank you for reading! i hope you liked it xx don't forget to reblog, please!

#seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen x scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen one shot #seventeen fics #seventeen reactions #seventeen au #svt smut #svt x reader #jeonghan smut #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan one shot #jeonghan fics #jeonghan au #seungcheol smut #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol scenarios #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol one shot #seungcheol fics #seungcheol au #scoups smut #scoups x reader #scoups scenarios #scoups imagines #scoups one shot #scoups fics

[ladyluscinia]

My hottest take from trying to delve into David Jenkins's interviews and piece together where he's going with this is that - for all he and everyone else are consistent about describing this show as a romance and a romcom (and The Muppets) - I don't think he finds the romance compelling??? At least, not the healthy endgame version.

Like, the one interview where he dropped that he was planning an unrequited romance in all those pitches of his until they shot the bathtub scene in 1x06...? Wild twist, but also it kind of makes sense.

Look at the comparisons he makes. Titanic (where Jack dies). Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (where both leads die). Shows like Insecure and Grey's Anatomy, where relationships get messy breakups constantly. He's excited about fanvids set to Olivia Rodrigo's "Favorite Crime". Writes an episode based on Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, a 1966 film of a play that attacks the concept of happy marriages. He mentions A Star Is Born repeatedly in reference to S2, a movie where the disaster marriage ends in suicide and heartbreak.

And even broad spectrum - he repeatedly explains that he's not compelled by pirate stories. Accuses the genre of being "creaky" and "hard to budge", and then claims to want to subvert it in one interview and shrugs about how "it's a pirate story" as reasoning in others. But the part he seems interested in...? Well it's the oncoming end of the Golden Age aspect, and also maybe the short and violent life of organized crime. He's drawing comparisons to mob movies and Westerns - two things I think we can say trend toward the bittersweet to tragic scale with endings. His examples certainly do.

I'm no longer surprised he was really compelled by the Edward and Izzy toxic divorce in S1 and the idea of doing an arc about "Can Izzy find himself outside of this toxic relationship?" only to answer "No." It seems right in his wheelhouse, tbh. Definitely enough that if he felt like Izzy ought to die due to vibes, I doubt he was looking too hard for an alternative.

For all his talk about "Can BlackBonnet put the work into this relationship?" I'm really getting the impression he thinks the more compelling answer is also "No." He likes the idea of a happy ending maybe, but he doesn't really seem into that as a story.

Now, he does seem to have gotten a crash course in "Maybe don't bury your gays?" and he's not lying about wanting to avoid the specific kinds of coming out and queer trauma stories - those are different kinds of tragedies - but I am... skeptical, perhaps, that the forced happy ending feeling of S2 will do anything but repeat in S3.

Just because, like, if I was scrolling these takes on a fic author's blog, I'd put majority odds on the main couple hanging in the final chapter, and I bet a happy sunset ending would come kinda out of nowhere...

Not really a recipe for satisfying, you know?

#it does still leave me irritated though #like there's playing around with genre expectations and then there's just straight up misleading marketing and tone #and idk how i would word it but this feels like the latter. or forcing a story into a different mold and pretending there's no issue #our flag means death #ofmd s2 #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd critical #david jenkins #ofmd meta #ladyluscinia #genre

[heart4reigns]

hiiii! I was wondering if you could write a Cody imagine?! The reader is Brock’s sister, and like a big name in the women’s division. When Cody returns they spark up a relationship, and no one knows which leads to her sitting and watching her brother just tear him apart. Then one night it goes too far, and she tries to save him and admits that they’re in love. Then Brock like makes her pick between the two of them!

IN ARMS, cody rhodes.

warnings: curse words, kissing, inaccurate events,

tags: awkward adults falling in love, brock being kinda evil (sorry cowboy), sexual implications, backstreet relationships

TO say the least, your older brother was definitely overprotective towards you. although you were the women's champion, in his eyes, you were still his little baby sister. at times, it got annoying because some people were intimidated by you. but you were the polar opposite of your brother. you liked people, you liked making new friends, and most important of them all, you were approachable. some people who didn't know never thought that you were the beast incarnate's little sister.

you were backstage, after your big fight with becky. the two of you were chilling backstage, putting ice on your bruises. "that's gonna hurt like a bitch." you pointed at her arm. "ya, you kicked the shit out of my arm!" she joked. "sorry, that's my job!" you laughed. you heard the door being opened by none other than seth rollins, who was going on stage for the next fight. "so, who are you fighting?" you asked the question.

"not your brother, i hope." he replied, stealing your water. "get your own damn water." you rolled your eyes. "nah, it can't be him. he's fighting your ex-boyfriend." you continued, earning a chuckle from the couple. "well ha ha, anyways we're going out. see you (y/n)!" becky and seth stood up, you hugged the two. "good luck!" you gave him a pat on the back.

as you walked the hallways on your own, you felt your legs tarting to ache more. "hey, (y/n)!" you saw roman greeting you. "where you going?" he asked. "i don't know, becks left me... so, just looking for company." "let's watch seth's match together." and there you were, watching the match with roman. your brother warned you about him being flirty, but you brushed it off. he was one of your closest friends backstage. "i swear, seth's entrances are always very extra." you commented, watching the monitor. "sometimes i'm jealous of his wardrobe." roman added.

no one knew who he was fighting. even you, one of the company's favorites, didn't know. "no fucking way." roman muttered. you zoned out for a second, turning back your attention to the monitor. "NO FUCKING WAY!" you repeated roman's sentences. "is that cody fucking rhodes?" you furrowed your brows. "he's back?" you nudged roman, who was still in awe. "it could be anyone, but i didn't expect it to be him." the black-haired man replied.

there he was, cody rhodes, the american nightmare. you have never worked with him, but he was so damn good looking with his bleached blond hair and his gear. needless to say, you looked forward to his return. the crowd went wild and you could feel that everyone was happy that he was back. you watched his early works in the wwe, his gimmicks were always enjoyable. you were in awe, seeing him being in the same company of you. "that dude is hot." you commented. "don't let your brother know, last time you said i was hot, got my ass beat really hard." roman said. "well, i'm sorry for having him as my brother!"

the night ended with a blast. everyone was satisfied with the match. cody's comeback left everyone speechless. it made you very excited to work with him. you went back to the locker room to gather all your things before going to the bus. but this time, the locker room wasn't empty. "oh, sorry! am i blocking your locker?" you jumped a bit, hearing an unfamiliar voice.

"no worries!" he scooted a bit, allowing you to collect your things. "i'm cody, by the way." you giggled at his sentence. "hi cody, i'm (y/n). i know who you are!" you shook his hand. "and i know who you are too, (y/n)." cody chuckled. "that was one hell of a comeback you did." you complimented him. "really? i was afraid that people were expecting someone else..." cody unwrapped his gloves, putting them inside his bag. "no one knew, so we're all quite surprised!" you assured him that he did great.

"are you riding back with us?" you asked him. "yeah i am, now that i'm out in the world." the two of you were walking back to the bus. "great! you should sit with me!" your positive and friendly attitude didn't match your brother's, he thought. "that would be great." he smiled. you kept on talking to him, finding yourself comfortable in the conversation.

the night went on and you couldn't stop talking to him, even after you got back to the hotel–the conversation continued. you were inside his hotel room, cracking jokes, when you heard your phone ringing. "listen, i'd love to continue this conversation, but i really need to go to my brother, he's been looking for me." you flashed him your lockscreen, 6 missed calls from brock. "oh, sorry! we got carried away. it was nice talking to you, (y/n)." you smiled at him. "is it okay if we exchange numbers? i haven't been talking to anyone. you're practically my first friend here." he asked, slightly hesitating.

"sure!" he walked you out of his room, with a big smile plastered on his face. "get some rest, cody. you did well tonight, welcome back." maybe it was your kind nature that made his heart beat faster than before. a pretty face, a kind soul, and an amazing wrestler–you were his dream girl. "thank you, (y/n). good night!" you gave him hug. "good night, rhodes!"

that wasn't your last encounter with the american nightmare. he was settled back in the game, meaning that you saw him every once in a while during work. he didn't have many colleagues, they were still getting used by his presence backstage, but he had you. you were well-known for your over-the-top kindness for new and old talents. so, it became a regular thing for you to accompany him whenever he was around. so people didn't find it weird when you had lunch with him or continuously play-fight with him backstage.

you grew closer than ever, closer than you and any other colleagues that you had. you had something to look forward to at work and it was the dashing man who was laying his head on your lap, playing with his phone before he had to go on stage. this backstage romance that you had stirring up was unknown to anyone except for the two of you.

little did you know, he was taking pictures of you dozing off. "you better delete that." you groaned. "but you look cute!" he pouted, showing you the picture. "rhodes, i swear i am going to kill you." "you sound a lot like your brother." ah yes, your brother. there had been several times that he almost caught you sneaking off to the american nightmare's locker room, but you simply said that you were going to visit seth.

it was well-known that your brother was the most intimidating wrestler wwe had nowadays. he had this menacing-like presence that caused everyone to stray away from his path, including cody. you heard a knock on the door, it was the backstage crew. "cody, you're up in 10!" "right!" every time you were in the room, you always locked the door, not wanting anyone to burst in and caught the two of you cuddling on the couch together. "you need to get ready, cody." he nodded, getting up from his position.

cody took off his sweatshirt, exposing his upper body as he was already wearing his work pants. you whistled at your sight, earning a groan from the blond wrestler. "stop flirting with me or i might just kiss you." he put on his shirt and tie. "all bark and no bite." the tension between the two of you lingered in the air. "really?" he sat down next to you, fixing his tie. "really-" your sentence was cut-off by him. there he was, kissing you, moving his body closer to yours. "all bark and all bite, baby." he chuckled.

that was the very first kissed that you shared with him and not your last. "did you just kissed me?" you were baffled. "and i'm gonna do it again." he said, a chuckle in between his words. you were obviously ecstatic by the thought of your 'colleague' kissing and holding you. "cody, you're up in 5! let's go!" yet again, you were interrupted by the stage crew. "you gotta go, cody."

"let's eat after this, i'm cooking." you smiled at him. "okay." you also stood up, helping him fix his suit. "you look good." you complimented, kissing his cheeks. "and you look too good to be single, (y/n)." he cracked a joke, opening the door. to your surprise, you saw a certain wrestler passing by. it was none other than your brother.

there was a quiet and painful silence between the three of you. "oh, hey brock!" you greeted him, slowly feeling your heart thumping faster. "i've been looking for you everywhere, where have you been- cody?" he looked at the man. "hey brock." cody greeted him as well. "what were you doing with her?" your older brother furrowed his eyebrows. "we were just talking. listen, i need to go on stage. i'll see you all later." cody practically ran to the entrance door, avoiding your brother.

"why were you with him? i keep on seeing you with him." you saw his expression and it was very intimidating to you. "i was just talking to him, jesus. don't worry about me." you shook your head. "i'm not worried, i just don't want anyone messing with you, if he messes with you, i'll break his legs." your gaze softened at your brother. "don't worry, bro. come one, let's get dressed. cody and i have nothing going on." and how wrong you were. there was definitely something going on between you and cody.

work was over and you were ready to get the hell out of this building. being in a tag-team with your brother meant that you were basically on his radar. thankfully, the company had something cooking up for him, meaning that was the last performance you gave as a duo. "where you going after this?" he asked, taking off his boots. "home." you lied. "ya want me to drive?" you shook your head. "no, i brought my car." you lied once again. "alright, drive safe."

you made sure no one was around you when you got inside cody's car. "live-streamed your good-byes being your brother's tag-team partner, got quite emotional." cody joked, causing you to ruffle his hair. "just say you're thankful that you're not gonna see him with me again." cody drove you to his house, knowing well you were tired enough from your fight. he didn't fight today, only delivering a promo for his upcoming rivalry with whoever it is that the company was setting him up with.

see, cody couldn't cook before he met you. you were a great cook and you helped him learn several things about being a masterchef in the kitchen. "this is actually good, finally." you spoke to him with a proud tone. "you? actually liking my food? is this the day that i can die peacefully?" you continued to eat your food. "anyways, did your brother say something about us?" us. his last word caused butterflies in your stomach.

"he didn't say anything, just threatened to break your legs if you mess with me." he choked on his chicken. "but don't worry, he's not a threat for us." some people might call you crazy for not being afraid of the brock lesnar, but you were his sister, you knew him. "so, how are you adapting?" you asked him. "it's good to be back honestly, i couldn't ask for more." he was genuinely glowing from happiness. "and i have you, so, i'm glad i met you." the two of you made eye-contact, slowly feeling your cheeks reddening from the conversation.

"are you always this flirty, rhodes?" "only to you, lesnar. wait, i take it back, (y/n). it sounds like i'm flirting with your brother every time i say your last name."

you were going to stay the night, like you usually do. you offered to wash the dishes, which cody was thankful for because he said he was going to fix something in his garage. you finished washing the dishes, sitting down on his couch, waiting for him to finish his business. "(y/n)! can you help me out here?" you heard his voice coming from the garage. "okay, wait!"

the garage was empty, cody wasn't there. "cody?" you called his name. "right here." you turned around and saw him holding a bouquet of lilies, your favorite flowers. your eyes widened in surprise. "uh?" you tilted your head in confusion. "i think it's obvious that i like you, (y/n). let me put it shortly, i like you and," he paused for a second, regaining confidence. "will you be my girlfriend?" the question was out and you were smiling like crazy. "of course i will."

your relationship made your bond stronger. you were practically living together already. your alarm woke you up from your deep slumber. "shit." you muttered under your breath. you quickly got dressed, looking for your shirt. "just wear one of mine, love." your new boyfriend watched as you tried to look for you shirt. "where are you going anyways?" he was still half-asleep. "we have a meeting with creatives today! i totally forgot." you quickly stole a small kiss on his lips. "see you later, baby."

"sorry, i'm not late am i?" the board meeting started. your brother was also there, clearly confused at your current disheveled state. "rhodes is running late, he said he had some issues with his car." you nodded, looking at the papers. the entire room was discussing about where your storyline might lead to.

cody came around, greeting people from the board. "now rhodes is here, let me lay down the plan." your boss said. "we're pinning rhodes and lesnar, not (y/n) but brock." you made eye-contact with cody, slightly panicking. it didn't take any random stranger to notice that brock took a dislike on cody after several encounters they had. it also didn't take any random person to notice that cody was definitely interested in you. "bring it on, blondie." brock grimacly chuckled, earning goosebumps on cody's skin.

to this day, people didn't know that you were already dating. cody was actually pretty nervous being pinned up to a storyline where he was facing your brother. it was brutal, you thought. your brother, on the other hand, was enjoying the time of his life. although it was all an act, you could tell that it was personal. you were watching the monitor, with roman right next to you. "i'd be pissed if i just came back like months ago and now i'm facing brock lesnar." roman joked.

"it feels like it's personal." roman repeated the thought you had in your mind. "huh?" you furrowed your brows, still focusing on your boyfriend being beaten up. "i don't know, i've been in the ring with brock. he always holds his punches, but this? seems like there's something going on between them." he chuckled. "my brother is just like that." you cringed, seeing cody being dropped on his back by your brother.

the camera stopped rolling and the two wrestlers went backstage. your first immediate response was to aid your boyfriend, it was a muscle memory already. "cody, are you alright?" he was limping on his right foot. "babe, i'm alright." you didn't realize your brother was standing behind the two of you. "babe?" he asked. a sheer panic ran through your spine. "uh..." you were speechless.

"is there something going on between you two?"

needless to say, things went downhill after that. you continued to deny about your relationship. but brock knew damn well that his opponent was dating his little sister. the punches he threw, the kicks he did, all felt personal. everyone thought it was all for the show, but cody and you knew that brock wasn't holding back his attacks.

it took you several shows to realize that cody's injuries after his shows were worse than before. "hold your arm out for me." you said. cody lifted his arm, adjusting his position. "okay, now hold on." you put ice on his injuries. "this is going out of hand." he only sighed. "i'm sorry." you apologized. "it's not your fault, love." cody leaned his head on your shoulder. "i guess your brother doesn't like us." he chuckled. "i need to tell him to stop making it personal."

the blond man shook his head. "no, it's okay." "it's not okay, cody. we both know the industry like the back of our hands, this isn't for the show anymore!" you slightly shouted. you were very concerned since they still had a long-running story. "i just can't stand seeing him beat the shit out of you almost every match." you confessed. "you don't need to worry about me, baby." his words calmed you down. "hell, i'll fight the entire roster for you."

"i love you and i'm sorry that my brother is tough to work with." "i love you too, please don't apologize. it's not your fault, we'll go through this together."

you had to come clean to your friends that you were in fact dating cody. "i can't stand this." you muttered under your breath, looking at the monitor. "i know, babes." becky sighed in frustration, pity in her eyes. "he's hurting him, it's not for the show anymore." seth added. "fuck, i can't stand this!" you quickly ran out of the locker room, not thinking straight.

"is- is that lesnar? that is (y/n) lesnar coming out of the backstage!" the commentator saw you sliding inside the ring. before brock could do more damage to your boyfriend, you quickly pushed him. you saw him smirking, knowing well how this would end. "stop it, brock!" you yelled, causing the crowd to go silent. "so, it's true then, (y/n)." brock spoke to the mic. "you really are dating him." the crowd gasped at his sentence. "yeah! i am and i love him!" you stood up, having a stare down while your boyfriend was still leaning on the ropes, his entire arm bruised.

cody looked at you, shaking his head, not want you to fight your brother for him. "(y/n), you either fight me or you help me fight your little boyfriend." brock once again spoke to the mic. you clenched your fist, trying your best to diffuse the situation. "who is she going to pick? her brother or her lover? this is some drama going on." the commentator said. "(y/n), fight brock!" "no, fight cody!" the crowd had mixed emotions towards your presence.

you took off your hoodie and threw it away, hearing the crowd go wild. "come on, bro. if you wanna get to him, you'll have to go through me."

a/n: hii! hope u enjoyed it!!! bc i heart cody so much damn that man is so sexy… requests are still open but i might not be posting very often bc i am currently busy w my exams <3!!

#cody rhodes #wwe #wwe imagines #jey uso #roman reigns #the usos #paul heyman #seth rollins #becky lynch #brock lesnar #cody rhodes imagine #cody rhodes x reader #wwe x reader

[bethsvrse]

Hello!! I appreciate that you don’t write for people with existing relationships so could you do something for maybe Tobi has a huge crush on one of Faiths female friends that he met when out with Ethan and fair or something?? I really enjoy your writing ML 🫶🏽

PAIRING Tobi Brown x fem!reader

A/N I’m sorry it took me so long to write your request, I’ve been very busy at the moment. (Also I tried using third person POV instead of second and idk if I like it lmao)

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!!

Tobi initially planned to spend a quiet evening at home, enjoying some movies, perhaps ordering a pizza, and then going to bed. However, due to the 10-year anniversary celebration of the Sidemen, he felt compelled to join his friends at a pub to have a wild night.

All of his friends were present, commemorating his and his brothers’ accomplishments. Tobi stood on the sidelines, observing his friends dancing in the midst of the crowd, capturing the moments on camera. Tobi was quite happy that he doesn’t drink, knowing for certain that his friends would regret their actions in the morning when these videos are shared on social media.

Suddenly, Tobi heard someone calling his name and turned around to see Faith, Ethan's girlfriend, bringing another girl towards him. He furrowed his brow in confusion, as he had never met this girl before.

Faith stood in front of Tobi, releasing the hand of the beautiful girl. "Tobi, this is my friend Y/N. Y/N, meet Tobi," Faith introduced, with the girl offering a shy greeting.

"I'm about to hit the dance floor, and to prevent Y/N from feeling awkward standing alone, I thought she could stay with you," Faith pointed dramatically in Tobi's direction. "That way, you both won't look too out of place."

"Faith..." Y/N hesitated, not wanting to make Tobi uncomfortable just because her best friend was trying to set her up with one of her boyfriend's friends.

"Shh!" Faith placed a finger on Y/N's lips, clearly already intoxicated. "I want to join the dance floor, and I don't want to leave my best friend alone."

With that, Faith walked away and headed straight for the dance floor, grooving to one of Kanye West's songs that had just started playing.

Y/N pursed her lips, leaning against the same wall that Tobi was leaning on, feeling even more awkward now. She desperately searched her mind for conversation starters, all while Tobi couldn't help but admire the stunning woman standing beside him.

His eyes roamed up and down, attempting to take in her entire appearance.

Tobi cleared his throat, attempting to break the silence. "So, uh, Faith didn't give you much of a choice, did she?"

Y/N chuckled nervously. "Not exactly. I hope this isn't too awkward for you. I didn't really sign up for a blind date tonight."

Tobi giggled, feeling the tension ease a bit. "No worries. I was just planning on a quiet night, but fate had other ideas, it seems."

Y/N nodded, glancing at the dance floor. "Yeah, I wasn't expecting to be here either. I'm not much of a party person, Faith kinda dragged me along."

Tobi chuckled, "Me neither, actually. I prefer the comfort of my movie nights."

As they exchanged small talk, Tobi discovered that Y/N loves photography and her traveling and Y/N learnt more about Tobi's YouTube career and she found out about his love for working out. The awkwardness began to fade, replaced by genuine interest.

Suddenly, Faith returned, still dancing energetically. "How's it going, you two?"

Tobi and Y/N exchanged glances, both unsure of what to say.

Faith laughed, "Relax, I'm just checking in. Enjoying your forced company?"

Tobi grinned, "Actually, not so bad."

Y/N nodded in agreement, "Yeah, it's been surprisingly pleasant."

Faith, satisfied with their responses, danced away again, leaving Tobi and Y/N alone once more.

As the night progressed, they found themselves laughing and sharing stories. However, when the clock struck midnight, Y/N checked her phone.

"I should probably head home. Early day tomorrow," she said, a hint of disappointment in her eyes.

Tobi nodded, "Yeah, I get that. It was nice meeting you, though."

Y/N smiled, "You too, Tobi."

As Y/N left, Tobi couldn't help but smile, realizing that sometimes unexpected nights turned out to be the most memorable.

Tobi's eyes followed Y/N as she walked through the crowd. The lively atmosphere of the celebration buzzed around him, but his thoughts were focused on the intriguing girl who had unexpectedly become his companion for the night. He hesitated for a moment, debating whether he should catch up with her, but then got distracted by Simon, one of his friends, who dragged him into a group photo.

As the flash of the camera illuminated the room, Tobi's mind raced, trying to recall if he had exchanged contact information with Y/N. The realization hit him just as he turned back to look for her, but she was already gone.

"Hey, do you guys see Y/N leave? The girl Faith brought" Tobi asked, scanning the crowd.

His friends exchanged puzzled glances, and Vikk replied, "I saw her leave a few minutes ago.”

Tobi sighed, frustration evident on his face. "Great, I forgot to get her number."

Ethan, overhearing the conversation, chimed in, "Smooth, Tobi. Don't worry though, Faith has her number, ask her for it."

Tobi thanked Ethan before going to find Faith on the dance floor. He tapped her on the shoulder, and amidst the music, he shouted, "Hey, Faith! Do you have Y/N's number?"

Faith paused in her dance moves, trying to hear Tobi over the music. "Y/N's number? Why do you need that?”

"We got along well, and I forgot to get her number before she left," Tobi explained.

Faith grinned mischievously, "Well, well, looks like someone's got a crush. Don't worry, I've got you covered. Let me find it on my phone."

Faith fumbled with her phone, scrolling through her contacts as the bass thumped in the background. Tobi tapped his foot impatiently, regretting not securing Y/N's number earlier.

After what felt like an eternity, Faith triumphantly declared, "Got it!" She showed Tobi Y/N's contact info on her phone.

"Thanks, Faith. You're a lifesaver," Tobi said, relieved, adding Y/N to his contacts.

Faith winked, "Just make sure to treat her right. I'm her best friend, after all."

#bethsvrse #fanfic #tobi brown #tbjzl #tbjzl x reader #tbjzl imagine #tobi brown x reader #sidemen x reader #sidemen x y/n #sidemen x you #tbjzl x you #anon ask #sorry it took me so long to write pookie 😞

[latenightbreezeinheaven]

Hot sexual attraction aspects and overlays in synastry (based on my experience with a particular guy) 🥵

🔥Lilith in 1st house overlay - I am the lilith person and he is the house person. I was sexually obsessed with him like every single time I thought about having sex, the first one who I fantasized about was with him. I just can't explain this type of feeling because I had never felt it with anyone before. I also felt like I could show the darkest sexual parts of me without worrying about him judging me and I could be wild as much as I want. 🖤

🔥Mars in 1st house overlay (especially conjuncting ascendant) - He is the mars person and I am the ascendant person. I don't know how he felt when he was with me but I felt so effing hot even when I was just making an eye contact and talking casually with him. My body feels tense suddenly till now whenever we meet and I feel like a hot pebble from the beach which is willing to get stepped on by him. 😂😭 By this, I'm not putting him on a pedestal but there is something about him that can ignite the sexual feelings unlike other guys and he can make me aroused just by an eye contact. Gurl even while I'm writing this, I'm sweating and blushing WELP. 💀

💓Sun conjunct venus - He is the venus person and I am the sun person. In most cases, they say that the venus person admires and adores the sun person no matter how they look or how they act. The attraction just comes naturally and I kinda agree with it because I once saw him looking at me with that look saying "you're my dream girl and I want you so much and I just want to see you happy and I like admiring from afar". 🤭 I'm not even exaggerating and I recognized that look from the start and I'm also never going to forget those eyes on me. However, as the sun person, I also love him. I think this aspect doesn't necessarily create a sexual hot tension between two people but this is more of like sweet love and adoration. 🥺💕

🔥Moon sextile mars - OH BOYY now I just realized why I LOVE men who have cancer mars. It's because their mars sextile my moon in virgo!! 😏 I've also experienced moon conjunct mars where I was the moon person and it was also insanely intense and hot. However, with him, I have a sextile and it was also not very different from the arousal that I got with the conjunction. And I think this aspect doesn't only create physical attraction but as the moon person, I was also attracted to how he moves, initiates and how he gets angry. This is soo weird but I love aggresive side of him and his passion towards his goals.

🔥Sun square mars - He is the sun person and I am the mars person. I don't know how this aspect actually works but I just feel like this creates those "ur so hott u know that lil mf" feelings in me as the mars person and I just love his personality and his ego. Yes loving his ego is weird but it's true. 😐

🔥Mars trine mars - I just felt naturally attracted to his sexual side. I just couldn't let him stay in my mind without having sexual thoughts. I felt like we are also naturally inclined sexually. Like we have a sexual chemistry. 👀

🔥Mars trine neptune - I am the mars person and he is the neptune person. This aspect can actually create illusions about having sex with him from my side for sure as neptune is not the easy one to deal with for me PERSONALLY. And I just noticed that neptune is a generational planet and I often have a strong desire to merge with those who have their neptune trining my mars.

🔥Mars opposition pluto - He is the pluto person and I am the mars person. I don't know who gets obsessed more here but from my side, as I mentioned above, I was literally melting for him. He is not even hot at all. He doesn't have those qualifications of a hot summer boy from the beach but I can't take my eyes off him when he's around and I also love LOVE touching him a lot. Sorry if this sounded creepy though lol 😂

💓Ascendant conjunct ascendant - Most people say that this is a soulmate aspect and I think we may also be because we have so many similarities. The habits, the mindset, the words we communicate, the way we act. The funny thing that happened was I got sick about two days before my birthday and he also got sick two days before his birthday lmao. 😹 Also I feel very familiar with him because the way we express ourselves to the outer world is almost the same and I feel like we can understand each other for how we act in the public and the outsiders are just outsiders and we are just in our little world. 🍃

✨Extra - We also have other similar aspects in our natal charts. We both have a cancer stellium. We both have a 12th house stellium. We both have mercury in cancer in 12th house. We have sun in 12th house (he's cancer and I'm gemini). His vertex conjuncts my vertex in synastry too and both of our vertex are in our 4th houses although we were not even born in close years. To be really honest, he's a lot A LOT older than me. But don't creep out though. I just have daddy issues and I'm not kidding. 😫

And tbh, even though I wrote those tenses with the past tense, I still get those wild feelings in my stomach and my heart always beats crazily whenever I see him. 😩

This is the end and thank you for reading to the end! You can also share your experiences with the person you had a strong sexual attraction and the placements you both shared because I'm soo curious. Have a great day! 💌

#synastry observations #synastry overlays #synastry #synastry notes #astrology notes #astro content #astrology observations #astro community #astrology #lilith in 1st #mars in cancer #sun conjunct venus #moon conjunct mars #sun square mars #mars trine ascendant #cancer stellium #12th house stellium #mercury in 12th house #sun in 12th house

[enbyonmandalore]

Test The Limits (Reader Insert Version)

Ghost & König x gender neutral reader (no y/n)

Rating: NSFW 18+

Word count: this is a long one (that's what she said, ha!)

Warnings: begging, *light* bondage/restraining, brat taming, choking, degradation/name calling, dom/sub behavior, edging, gagging, humiliation, masks stay ON, masturbation, oral (M recieving), tiny bit of overstimulation, penetrative sex, potential hate-fucking, size difference, some brief violence typical for the CoD franchise, threesome, unprotected sex, voyeurism?, characters act absolutely fucking feral, reader's genitalia is not described

Summary: Smut. Absolute filth without much plot. Ghost has enough of your attitude and decides to fuck it out of you; him and König end up taking turns on you.

A/N: This is my first time writing anything about CoD MW2 aaand also my first time attempting to write a threesome. Certain parts of dialogue and phrases are inspired by u/badjhur on reddit. Sometimes the POV kinda switches, I hope you don't mind. I've been going wild for König lately and I'm trying to bring my thoughts to paper. Enjoy!

________________________________________________________

Test The Limits

"Argh fuck!", you shouted in frustration as your face hit the floor. Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley pinned you down with his entire body weight, twisting your dominant hand onto your back, your other hand squashed underneath your own body. You'd fucked up. Again.

"Stop being so easy to pin.", Ghost said harshly. "If I were the enemy you'd be dead by now."

"Lasted longer than last time, though", you reminded him nonchalantly and coughed as he took some of his weight off of your back, letting you catch a proper breath.

"Still not good enough", he retaliated, adding something under his breath. "Fuckin' brat..."

"What did you just call me?", you snapped and turned around as much as you could. The Lieutenant didn't move. With some more struggling you managed to free yourself from under him, scootching away and staring daggers at him. Propping yourself up on your elbow, you opened your mouth to complain, but the Lt. raised a finger in your direction as a warning.

"Behave."

"Oh for god's sake, Lt., I'm just as much a member of this damn task force as you are. Price called me in for a reason and you know it. You-"

Ghost didn't let you finish your sentence. Instead he grabbed you by the ankles and yanked you towards him, scraping your elbows against the floor of the sparring ring. Now he towered over you, his arms caging you in on either side, a knee between your legs, restricting any further movement.

"I said behave.", he growled.

"Get. Off. Of. Me.", you said slowly and clearly, your tone stone cold.

But Ghost didn't budge. His icy blue eyes still fixated on you, as if expecting an ambush. That's when you felt it. You felt him press up against you and with mere inches between your bodies, there was less than a little room for speculations. The air seemed to thicken with tension over the next few seconds as you just stared in disbelief. Finally, as he hit a sensitive spot, you flinched.

"Stop that!", you protested.

"You wanna tap out, Luv? Scared you're gonna lose?", Ghost replied, ignoring you and continuing to grind against your crotch.

"Ngh- No! Just stop moving like that!"

"Like what?", he paused and you thought you saw him raise an eyebrow, "This?"

"F-fuck...!", you gasped as he full on rutted his hips against yours. You tugged at his shirt, but that changed nothing.

"This... This is hardly a fair fight, Lt. Let go!"

"Never said it was gonna be fair.", the Lieutenant clarified. "Besides, if you would just ask nicely I might let go, eh? You bloody brat."

Humiliating you even further, Ghost flipped you onto your stomach again with ease. "You're making this too easy." Between strained breaths and frustrated struggling, you managed to growl: "At least take the damn knife off my back."

Ghost's dry chuckle made your entire body stiffen at once. "That ain't no combat knife you're feeling there, Luv..."

Oh.

Oh.

Once it finally clicked in your head, his entire behavior made sense. Jesus H. Christ, he was doing it on purpose.

"Come on, operator, get up", Ghost taunted, pulling you to your feet, "See what you've been rubbing up against all fucking night."

You bared your teeth at him out of pure instinct. The movement was so quick you felt your bottom lip split open and tasted blood.

"You're so goddamn full of yourself!"

"Quite the opposite.", the Lieutenant replied and took a step forward. You refused to back down. Ghost's gaze locked onto yours, analyzing you. He reached behind himself and revealed a ziptie, pulling it tight around your wrists within a split second, pushing you against the wall behind you. You were speechless.

"W-what the fuck, Lt.?", you finally managed to sputter.

There was nothing you could do - exhausted from sparring, backed against a wall and your hands were quite literally tied. To say you were in a jam would be a tremendous understatement. A hand traveled to your throat, applying pressure and enforcing eye contact.

"Who do you think you are? Who gave you permission to act like a sour fucking tart, hm? What is your problem?" Ghost looked you up and down. "Look where that's gotten you."

"Could ask you the same bloody question!", you spat, seeking any sort of leverage on Ghost's wrist to prevent him from potentially choking you out. He just stared, condescendingly. "Eversince I got here, you've been looking at me like you're a starving dog and I'm some sort of fucking treat."

Ghost's eyes narrowed dangerously, maybe there was a sadistic smile under that mask, but you'd never know for sure. When he spoke, his voice was low and gravelly.

"Consider this punishment... or consider this me spoiling your bratty behavior. You can still tap you, Love, but once we get started, there's no turning back."

"Oh so you think it's that easy to get in my pants, then?", you chuckled dryly, thankful for the dim light concealing the fact that you might be blushing. "Do your fucking worst, then."

"Very well."

Ghost didn't wait a second longer, he grabbed you by the neck and spun you around, slamming your chest into the wall. His hands slid down your sides, all the way to your belt. You didn't need to look - the sound of the quick-release clasp coming undone was enough to prepare you for what would come next. Once again you were thankful he didn't see your face or the excited grin plastered across it. Ghost pulled down your uniform pants and undershorts in once go, helping you lift your feet to fully get rid of the pants.

"Well, well...", he muttered, his gloved hands back on your body, thumbs caressing the dips in your hips. "Bloody amazing figure you got, soldier."

You could almost feel his breath on your skin, that's how close he'd gotten. You skin tingled where he touched it. When the Lt. pressed himself against your ass, you could barely contain an excited whimper. He turned you back around to face him, shoving a knee between your thighs and pinning you to the wall on your tiptoes, hands above your head. Fuck, that felt amazing. Never in a million years had you ever imagined to enjoy being overpowered by a man like this...to be turned on by it.

It caught you off guard when he suddenly dropped you, taking two steps back. Your ass hit the cold concrete floor, your bindings snapping as you scramble to cover yourself. Reality check. You could feel a new pair of eyes lingering on your skin and turned your head in that direction so fast it almost made you dizzy. A shadowy figure loomed in the doorway.

"König", Ghost's voice broke the silence, "What a bloody fuckin' surprise."

He closed the distance between himself and the other soldier in only a few steps, grabbing a fistful of König's shirt and yanking him all the way into the room. You heard König stutter something unintelligible, Ghost not even bothering to respond to him.

"Just in time.", Ghost announced to neither of you in particular. "I was about to teach our new teammate a lesson and now you both and learn one at the same time."

He let go of König, glaring at you still cowering on the floor. König instinctively raised his hands, attempting to appear non-threatening as he towered over both of you.

You slowly regained your composure, still acutely aware that your lower half was exposed. What you also noticed, was that König had closed his eyes underneath the sniper hood - the eyeholes were completely black now, as if he wasn't even there. You shifted around until you were at least in a less awkward position. This did not go unnoticed by the Lieutenant.

"I didn't mean to disturb you, Sir", König spoke, "I only heard commotion..."

When Ghost did not answer, he continued rambling, obviously flustered. "I- I can walk back out and this never happened, okay? I didn't even see anything-"

"No.", Ghost interrupted, "You both have had problems staying focused lately and you've become liabilities to the entire team. So, to help you get it together, you are going to practice following orders. Right fucking now."

You exchanged a nervous glance with König.

"Hey", Ghost barked in your direction. "Eyes on me. Don't look at him, he's not gonna help you."

As soon as your gaze had focused back on Ghost, the Lieutenant continued his angry speech: "You aren't very quiet going about your business, König, and you", he glared at you, "You talk in your sleep."

In that moment the realization that Ghost had heard something definitely not meant for his ears hit both König and you. You hadn't known you talked in your sleep, much less that Ghost had apparently been within earshot while you slept. And if you weren't mistaken, you could see the awkward shift in König's posture as well. What on earth had Ghost heard him say - or do?

Ghost's hand shot forward and grabbed you by the collar, pulling you into a kneeling position, your hands on his wrist to steady yourself. Then Ghost nodded towards a chair against the back wall of the room.

"Operator, sit down. And don't move."

Wordlessly, König followed the Lt.'s order. As soon as he had sat down, Ghost returned his attention to you. You felt his cold stare basically penetrate your skin and set it on fire...

"You. Up.", he ordered and you complied. Ghost then moved the both of you closer to König, right in the middle of his field of vision. Your heart was racing by now. What was he doing?

"On your knees, soldier."

You watched as Ghost positioned himself in front of you, your back facing König. He stepped closer and you now made direct eye contact with the considerable bulge in the Lieutenant's pants. Instinctively you gulped. Shit, was he really about to make König watch as you gave him head?

Apparently the answer to that was Yes.

It could have been your imagination, but you swore you heard the faintest sigh of relief as Ghost undid his belt, unzipped the fly and pulled out his fully erect cock. The size of which both startled and excited you. With one hand he lifted your chin while the other, slowly and almost carefully snaked around to the back of your head.

"Now, Love, you are gonna suck my cock and do it well, understood?"

You answered immediately, a grin tugging at your lips. "Don't be shy, I can take it, Lt."

Next thing you knew, Ghost forced open your mouth with his thumb and shoved his cock inside. You fought your gag reflex, his cock was really testing the limits of what you found yourself capable of. You carefully started bobbing your head, hands gripping Ghost's thighs for support, working your tongue around the fat tip, sucking on it before taking more of his cock down your throat. You'd never believe it if you weren't hearing it yourself, but Ghost -stone cold as he usually was- was a horny rambler.

"That's it...", he pulled his cock out of your mouth, allowing you to catch a breath; maintaining eye contact the entire time. "Oh, fuck- You see that? That perfect ring of spit on my cock..."

You swallowed thickly between breaths and gave the Lieutenant a crooked smile. Provocatively you licked your bottom lip and glanced up at him.

"You can do it, yeah, open wide", he said, his voice low and breath ragged, before guiding your head back down his cock. You could taste the precum now and each time he hit the back of your throat you felt the knot in your own stomach tighten.

"Ah God, f-fuck!", Ghost moaned and gripped your head with both hands, holding it in place. He momentarily tore his gaze away from you to look at König. "Enjoying the show?"

"Gott, Scheiße...", König panted and bucked his hips in a futile attempt to feel something, anything. Oh, he needed to be touched. He wanted to fuck both you and Ghost and it was pure torture to sit there, hands behind his back and not allowed to move as you took Ghost's dick so eagerly. God he wished that were him. He felt his own hard-on throb with every sound your mouth made and with every word of praise from Ghost. His eyes rolled back in his head as he imagined what it your feel like to pin the Lieutenant against a wall and kiss him, right before fucking him so hard the wall might crack. What it would feel like to have you on top of him, a spiteful smirk on your face as you ruthlessly rode him like there was no tomorrow, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips...

"Bloody hell, love, you're taking me so well", Ghost sputtered as he thrust himself into your mouth. "Come on... promise I'll make this worth your while."

You held onto his thighs for dear life as tears and spit ran down your face, accompanied by messy, lewd gagging sounds.

"That's it, that's it- Ohh FUCK"

His breath caught in his lungs as his cock pulsed, emptying his load down your throat. Fighting the urge to gag, you swallowed, gripping Ghost's leg so hard it might bruise. With an exhausted, guttural moan Ghost finally let go and you fell backwards, gasping for air.

Ghost recovered from his high quickly, barely giving you the chance to wipe the drool off of your face before dragging you to a large storage crate. He turned you around, his chest pressed against your back, and sat down, effectively pulling you onto him as he lay down on the crate. You watched as he removed his gloves. Your entire body was tingling with arousal by now and being thrown around like a rag-doll wasn't helping. You felt the blood rush between your legs and you were almost certain Ghost knew. He nudged your legs further apart with his own.

"You really can take me, love.", Ghost growled into your ear, grabbing your jaw from behind and turning your head towards König. "Now how 'bout him?"

"Haah- please-", you whimpered and squirmed in his iron grip. You were becoming more desperate by the second, you needed to be touched - or even better: railed into oblivion.

Ghost's icy eyes fixated on König and the other soldier froze in his chair.

"Your turn, operator", the Lieutenant said with a nod.

König stood up slowly, having to concentrate on every move as he approached Ghost. God, it was such a pretty sight to see you so sprawled out and desperate...so pretty.

"Fuck them. That's an order!"

"Y-Yessir!", König replied and quickly undid his pants with trembling hands.

You gasped upon seeing König's size. He was probably larger than the Lt. in every goddamn aspect. Would that thing even fit? Standing between your open legs, he almost hesitantly lay a bare hand on your thigh and lightly pressed his fingertips into your skin and you whimpered once again. Ghost still held your jaw tightly, watching König like a hawk.

As if to reassure himself that this was what you wanted, König sought eye contact. He stroked himself a couple of times first, before lining his hard cock up with your entrance. You gave him a meek nod and practically started begging as his tip nudged against your hole.

"Fucking hell, please! Please just fuck me, König, please please please!"

König felt his cock twitch in his hand at the sound of your voice - like music to his ears. "Don't...", he whispered, barely audible, "Don't stop begging."

"Please~ Please fuck me already, big boy", you pleaded and that did it for him. Without further hesitation he pushed his cock inside you and barely managed to contain the animalistic, desperate moan building in his throat as he bottomed out. You wanted to throw your head back, but Ghost's shoulder was in the way, so you turned your face to the side, teeth gritted and eyes squeezed shut. A cold shiver ran down your spine as Ghost whispered praise into your ear again. "Come on... Good. Take all of him."

And as König set a pace to his thrusts, small whines and moans spilled from your lips.

"Ah- Yes...fuck... König, fuck- ngh"

König was enormous. He spread you open like nothing ever had before. No doubt you'd feel him for days. You could feel him in your guts, it was relentless, stretching you open and filling you so completely you couldn't think around it, couldn't do anything but cling to Ghost's hand and whine.

"Ah, sh-shit! More, please...", König demanded, underlining each word with a thrust so hard you almost cried out in pain.

"Yessir!", you groaned, slurring all the other words, "Ah- Yes, fuck me hard, I need this! Oh fuck-"

"Oh yeah, you like this, huh?", König answered your desperate cries. Ghost joined in on the taunting. "You like getting fucked by two big men, 's that it? That's why you've been acting like a fucking brat? Answer me!"

"Ahng- yes- Yessir!"

"You little tease...", König panted, his eyes cast downward, watching himself disappear inside you over and over and over.

Fucking hell... Ghost couldn't take his eyes off of the scene. König brutally slamming into you, your half-naked body on top of him. Grinding against him with each and every one of König's thrusts. And the sounds - God! Your choked, breathy moans and cries and König's deep, desperate sighs caused Ghost's heart to race. He could feel his cock beginning to harden again. His eyes rolled back in his head as he let it happen. He felt your hot breath on his hand and tightened his grip on your lower jaw, bringing his other hand up to your lips and pushing past them. He was relieved you understood the objective, as you swirled your tongue around his fingers, coating them in saliva just like you'd done with his cock moments before.

You arched your back as König repeatedly hit your sweet spot. You cried out in pleasure, begging him not to stop as you careened towards your high.

"Greedy, are we? You gonna behave for us, hm?", Ghost teased, swiping his thumb across your lips. Your eyes fluttered as you nodded vigorously.

Under you, Ghost tensed up as your ass pressed against his cock. He felt like he was about to go insane from the stimulation so shortly after his last orgasm. König gripped your hips, holding on for dear life as he chased his own high. He'd given up on trying to suppress his moans, letting you hear every sweet sound spilling from his lips.

"I'm close, so close", König stammered through gritted teeth, "Can't- Can't hold it much longer, ngh!"

You were quick to answer, speech slurred and a fucked-out expression on your face. " 'S okay! Ah- Cum with me!"

A choked moan ripped from your throat as he thrust all of himself into you. His voice gave out and his head fell backwards. You saw stars as you came undone on his cock, clenching around him. You felt him pulse, shooting his load and coating your insides with his cum.

For a moment everyone was quiet, your ragged, out-of-sync breaths the only thing disturbing the silence.

You gasped in surprise when you suddenly had Ghost's hands on your waist, pushing you down onto both his and König's dick, drawing a startled mewl from the other man. Ghost felt himself spill his seed between your sweat-soaked bodies, a deep moan rattling in his chest.

It took a moment for Ghost to come to his senses again. When he did, König had already taken a few steps back and zipped up his pants. He lifted you off of him and searched his pockets for a rag or tissue to clean the both of you up.

"That's all it took you to behave. A nice, fat cock.", he chuckled to himself.

"I think we made quite a lot of noise. We should leave before someone else comes investigating strange noises on base.", König suggested and glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the door. "If... If you want to go again, you know where to find me."

"Yeah", you agreed with a tired smile. "Better make ourselves scarce."

_________________________________________________________

This fanfiction is property of @enbyonmandalore (Tumblr). I do not own any of the characters associated with the Call Of Duty franchise. Do not repost/crosspost on other accounts or websites, edit, translate or otherwise change this piece of writing. Rebloging is fine, reposting is not.

#ghost x reader #ghost x you #könig x reader #könig x you #call of duty modern warfare 2 #modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod könig #cod ghost #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #my writing #call of duty fanfic #könig smut #ghost smut #könig x gn!reader #gn!reader #nonbinary!reader #ghost x gn!reader #ghost x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #könig x gender neutral reader #reader insert fanfiction #x reader #masked men #ghost call of duty #könig call of duty #test the limits #enbyonmandalore test the limits

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

RUNAWAY FROM ME - EXCERPT

Pairing - Tommy Shelby x oc

Summary - Deirdre ran from her life of misery for her own safety. However, she managed to run back into the arms of an angel she once knew, now known as The Peaky Blinder Devil. In which he has no intentions of letting her run away from him again.

Warnings - Dark content, noncon, dubcon, explicit themes, lovers to enemies to lovers, slow burn kinda, Tommy needs a hug.

Word Count - 1.6k

Notes - The little teaser for the Tommy story I wanna write. Please let me know what you think, it would be highly appreciated.

The band came to a sudden stop, the audience’s heads turned towards the three men that strode through the dining. All three of them wore peaked caps with large overcoats as they walked tall. They approached the stage and Deirdre couldn’t help but to feel her heart thud harder in her chest as this suspicious tingle crawled over her skin with her light brown eyes glued onto the men that felt too familiar. Deirdre’s heart froze when the man in front came to clear sight as he took off his cap, revealing his harsh undercut styled brunette hair.  

Thomas Shelby. 

Her face went numb when his pale hands wrapped around the microphone, ears clogged as his words fell deaf yet she remembered the sound of his deep, captivating voice perfectly. The two other men, which she quickly recognised to be his brothers, Arthur and John, stood with their chests puffed out, arms locked across shoulders and stern expressions. 

Deirdre’s heart pounded in her chest like a wild animal desperate to escape its cage. Even though her head was frozen in line to his speech, her eyes were darting around, already planning her escape. The room was full, surely his blue eyes would not be able to point her out in the depths of the occupied round tables. Let alone recognise her after all of these years. 

How could she have been so foolish? The massive city of London had never felt smaller than tonight. She had heard his name many times and every time it felt like a stab in the heart. He had made a name for himself, built an empire in that fire and brimstone city. Just like he always said he would. Her father and dear husband already hated him, gypsy bastard. Every day she prayed for their obliviousness to her heavy past with him.

It felt like her soul was pulled out of her body when his blue eyes landed on her. His mouth fell ajar open as his long lashes batted, head gently tilting to the left as he acknowledged her, remembering her thoroughly. The brothers noticed his pause and looked towards her as well, she couldn’t help but to cower slightly. The rest of the room was oblivious to the stare off between him and her. 

“And now, shall we dance?” He suggested it in a slow and challenging manner. One hand snapped to que towards the band and the other gestured towards his brothers.  

The sounds of jazz roared against the walls as everyone abruptly stood up. A deer caught in headlights, that’s how Deirdre felt at first. As she watched him walk down the stage, his eyes still on her. The brothers were already out of her sight. 

She snapped back to reality when Jack’s fingers traced over her bare shoulder. Deidre gulped hard as she quickly stood up, nervously brushing through her dark loose brunette hair. 

“Sorry, I, I suddenly don't feel too well” Deirdre admitted, which was actually a lie, but the implication went in the opposite direction. 

“Nonsense! I haven’t even gotten a single dance with you yet” Jack acclaimed with a charming smirk, his arm wrapped around her shoulder. 

Her eyes shot towards the stage, he’s gone. 

“I’m so sorry, I really must go” Deidre quickly spoke, her voice trembling as she yanked herself out of his grasp. 

She heard him rebut, however she was already heading straight towards the large doors as she zigzagged through the crowd. Unfortunately, her poorly planned escape route had quickly soiled, she spotted Arthur and John standing on opposite sides of the exit. They were always loyal pawns in his game. There was a pause in her movements as her eyes shot around, her body covered in pins and needles. 

She’d escape through the workers quarters. But as she turned in a hasty measure, her small body smacked into another. The arms that she had felt years before wrapped around her possessively as he steadied her stance. There was no doubt who it was, no hope for it to be another. 

“My dearest Deirdre, my eyes will never fail to spot your beauty no matter how you age. May I have this dance?” Tommy asked with a stern expression but soft voice, head tilted down towards her as she kept her eyes on the floor. 

The coat he wore was gone, and she could easily feel his muscular frame hidden underneath the button up shirt, not to mention the pistol in his holster. His cold hand lifted her chin and their eyes locked. As she blinked slowly, her eyes glistering, she bit on her tongue. Tommy waited patiently for her next move. 

Show no fear. 

“If I knew that the Eden Club was in your possession I would have steered clear. We can pretend that you never saw me” Deidre negotiated confidently but her front failed when her body shook against his. 

Tommy laughed loudly as his arm around her waist tightened in a proprietorial manner. 

“Unfortunately we have unfinished business, you and I” Tommy replied coldly. 

“Please, surely you haven't held onto those emotions for all of these years” Deirdre chuckled presumptuously as she tried to push their bodies apart without gaining attention.   

Tommy grunted at her words and dragged her to the dance floor, his fingers dug into her upper arms. Surely he wouldn’t make a scene here. But then she’s heard many tales of him, the beast that he had become when he returned from the war.

“You’re in a considerable debt with me, my love. One that you thought would fade if you merely ran” Tommy growled. 

“I can get you your money” she winced at the sharp pain, not like it would even mean anything to him with how much his businesses bring in these days. When they passed through the crowded floor, she realized that he was leading her out of the lounge. 

“If you think your debt is based around money, are you still that naive girl from all of those years ago, eh?” Tommy smirked as he kicked open the double doors which led them into the kitchen. 

It was now or never. Deirdre shoved him away with full force and scrambled through the busy kitchen as she nearly fell over in her heels as she broke free. All eyes were on them but no one dared to move a finger in the wrong direction. As she roughly pushed past everyone, she tried to remain calm. 

Tommy grinned at the girl who loved to run. This night had taken an unexpected turn indeed for the both of them, her heart was pounding immensely as she panted in her heels. The first door she took led her to a hallway, the open exit to the streets on her right was blocked by two working men. Cigarettes in their lips as they watched her intimately, she bolted to the left. 

The next door she took, she didn’t consider analyzing, she locked herself in the small dark room which appeared to be an office. The moonlight shined through the sash window which she yanked up and looked down to the small drop, survivable but not without two broken heels. As Deidre laid her hands on the windowsill, her head snapped back as she heard the door unlock from the other side. There was no other option besides hiding. Deirdre found herself hidden underneath the wooden Lombardo desk. It was human instinct to cower, pray that she’d be able to run from her past demons.

The weighty door creaked open, and she heard his heavy footsteps on the carpet. Tommy pulled out a cigarette, the end of the stick brushed in between his lips as he lit it. “Oh Deirdre, my dearest” Tommy spoke loudly, his tone dripping of sarcasm, which made her stomach feel like a bottomless pit. He slammed the door shut behind him. “Why do you run? Why do you hide? From me of all people? You seemed to have forgotten the vows you swore your life on. The promises which are still owed to me. You ignorantly believed that fate would keep us apart? Oh but haven’t you heard the tales of the Peaky Blinder Devil?” Tommy spoke, his footsteps slowly approached her. 

The thuds in her chest were painful, her throat felt like the cold air around her was strangling her. He could hear her heavy breathing and chuckled silently. The Colt M1911 is pulled from his holster and he ensured that she heard the safety click off. 

“Once upon a time there was a boy. Who foolishly fell for a girl with a secretive past. They created a life as one. He protected her from the pure evils in this cruel world and how did she repay him? She robbed him blind. She ran from the boy that she loved and turned his soul black. She created the Devil of Birmingham. And tonight, the runaway has tripped over her bad deeds” Tommy teased as he leisurely approached her. 

With a turn of the corner of the desk, Tommy raised his pistol and pointed it at her forehead. Deirdre looked up to him with doe eyes and gulped down her nerves. “And now, you will repay your debts” Tommy ordered with a gentle nod. 

“I will do no such thing” she refused, her words sizzling in anger. 

Tommy knelt down to her level, his pistol pressed against her temple. Deirdre breathed out but didn’t fear, she’s been pushed and shoved too many times before to know when there was an actual threat on her life. 

“Yes you will. Because you’re still my property, my dear wife” Tommy smirked.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #smut #dark smut #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x oc #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky fookin blinders