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bugs1nmybrain · 16 hours

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Shigaraki With a Crush on Fem!Reader

MINORS DON'T INTERACT

Notes/Warnings: 18+ themes but no smut, Fem-Reader, White-Haired Shigaraki w/ Long hair (he's 21 in this fic), alcohol use but no one gets drunk, other members of the League make an appearance, Shigaraki is pervy, they play League of Legends cuz I'm just as much of a loser as Shigaraki, story has TWO PARTS in one fic, fluff, not proofread

i will not stop babygirlifying Shigaraki YOU CAN'T STOP ME

Notes about reader: quiet-type, wears flashy alternative clothes and makeup, nerdy (artist, gamer, loves anime & manga), neurodivergent

The PLF was staffed with a multitude of skilled folks, all of different positions. There were those on the front causing trouble, like most of the League. Some people held side-line positions, which is where you come in. You worked as a research, statistic, and data analyst, as well as an undercover intel gatherer. Under Skeptic's duty. More of a down-low kind of role.

You weren't the most talkative, but you were always there at every meeting and event. However, the outfits you wore and the way you did your hair almost completely contrasted with your rather quiet personality. Bold eyeliner, frilly skirts, sexy fishnets. You'd come to meetings and usually have your face buried into a sketchbook, yet whenever you were called on it seemed like you were paying attention perfectly.

Shigaraki kept tabs on most of the PLF members, though not extensively. You, however, always managed to catch his eye. For such a minuscule role in the organization, you seemed to pop up everywhere. It was never hard to spot you.

What truly caught him was when you walked into a meeting wearing a fucking League of Legends shirt. He recalls it perfectly. The way you fwumped down in your chair, always across the table in the same damn chair every time. You carried about five manga books with you and your sketchbook, and a Monster Energy right by you. He paid closer attention at that meeting and picked up on your habits and suddenly he found your voice exciting to listen to. It was a bummer you were so reserved.

With all that damn shit you carried around with you, it was frequent that you'd be stuck in the meeting room a couple minutes after everyone left. Just trying to gather your things.

Tomura noticed you questioning your packing methods as he walked toward the door. He was getting a little irritated just watching you struggle with your bag, trying to get it all to fit. He thought to himself "fuck it" and strolled over to you. You weren't really paying attention as he grabbed one of your books with only two fingers and a thumb, eyeballing your backpack. You packed a lot of shit.

You looked up and you began to freeze. The big boss. You were beyond confused and a tiny bit frightened. You didn't say anything until he looked at you as well.

"Need help?" Tomura asked, gently waving the book in his hand. You took note that he was being careful with it.

"Uh..sure, yes," you stammered.

"You have a lot of stuff. How'd you even get it all up here? Cuz to be honest all this ain't gonna fit."

"I carried it."

He now took note of the headphones around your shoulders. You were funny, he thought.

"Let me take the backpack and you can carry your books."

You paused a moment, confused that he stopped to help you. Especially considering he's, him.

"O-okay."

Tomura took your bag, which typically is a little heavy for you, but less than a breeze for him.

"Where's your room?" Tomura asked.

"Skeptic's wing."

"Oh, right. You're the research girlie."

You were impressed that he knew. You followed him sheepishly. "Girlie." Shigaraki sure did have a smart mouth, judging by the meetings. Once you got down the stairs, Tomura gestured for you to go in front of him.

"Lead the way. I don't know where the hell we're going."

You lead him toward your room of the building. Tomura snuck a look at your ass as you guided him through Skeptic's wing. The fishnets looked nice on you, too. A part of his mind wanted to compare you to a hooker, but he had a feeling that wasn't very progressive of him. He wasn't complaining, though.

"Here."

You two had finally arrived at your bedroom. You opened the door and Shigaraki questioned if it was okay for him to come in, so he sat the backpack down just beyond your door.

"I, uh. Thank you, Shigaraki."

He felt a little excitement in his pants listening to you say his name, especially in such a thankful tone.

"Yea, no prob." He began to step away, no formal goodbye until he stopped, realizing he didn't exactly know your name.

He made steps backwards towards your door.

"You're name..it's Y/N? If I remember right. Sorry. There's a lot of us."

"No worries," you smiled. "Yea, that's me."

"You play League?" He asked, noticing your shirt again.

"Oh! Yea! I mean, I fucki- sorry-language, I suck. But I love playing."

"No shame. I'd carry you," Tomura flirted? He wasn't sure. He eyed you like an excited puppy. "I just don't know any girls who play. Or anyone aside from Spinner, honestly."

"He does?"

"Yea. We, uh..We should play. Tonight?" Tomura felt his face get warm and he knew he had to cut the convo short before he went red.

"Yea!!" You perked up. Excited to make friends, which was very hard for you because of how quiet you were. With Shigaraki, too? Definitely would come in your favor, you figured.

Shigaraki felt himself get flustered at your sudden excitement.

"Do you have a paper and pen?" He asked, figuring you should.

"Yeah hold on," you went to your desk and pulled out a paper and pen and handed them over to him.

Tomura used his thigh to write down his user, and also included his phone number while he was at it, just in case.

"Here. I, uh, I gotta go but you can text me. I'll tell Spinner to be prepared."

"Okay," you beamed. Tomura tried holding back his smile that would've spread right across his face if he didn't.

"Okay. Bye." He turned away and trailed off faster than lightning. For the first time in...wow. For once, he felt like he was experiencing happiness in an objectively good way that didn't involve murdering a whole city. He then wondered if that was gonna be a deal breaker.

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A couple weeks had passed. You and Tomura were certainly friends up to this point. You played League a bunch (with Spinner, who could tell Shigaraki had the hots for you), but you two had also played other games together. Minecraft and GTA were regulars. He even pestered about Animal Crossing, but you didn't have a Switch! (He was going to change that).

As for in-person? You two sat closer together at meetings. You had even left your designated chair to come join his side. Some of the other higher-ups were starting to question it, but Shigaraki always found ways to write them off.

You made Tomura feel normal. Almost child-like. Like there was someone who only needed him for mutual jokes and fun. You were also a very understanding person and didn't shame him for things that you had every reason to. Of course, he hadn't spilled every bean in his can yet. He couldn't handle sharing all that and then you did not like him the same way he liked you.

"Dude, just ask her out." Dabi sipped from his beer and scowled watching Shigaraki stare at you from across the room. The League threw a party for no good reason. Of course, PLF members were encouraged to come.

"She doesn't have other people to hang out with so she's probably looking for you anyways," Spinner included.

"Don't call her a loner," Shigaraki said spitefully, taking a drink from his glass of whiskey.

"If the shoe fits," Dabi includes.

"She's smart for that. This world is full of posers."

"Not like yourself, right?" Dabi includes.

"I will dump my whiskey on your burn scars. Shut the fuck up."

"Just fucking ask the girl out. She gets all smiley around you anyways. Probably gooey, too."

"Knock it OFF!" Shigaraki rumbles. Though the hypothetical idea of that definitely made him feel pride. "I've like. Never had a friend, who was a girl, that I liked this way."

"You're a virgin, got it," Dabi joked, knowing full well he was risking his life.

"I fucking hate you." Shigaraki sighs and scratches his, neck. He turned his gaze over to you, noticing your fitting black dress with your classic fish nets. He noticed a boob window, too. That was gonna make this harder (ha). He actually appreciated your style a lot. He was always excited to see what you chose to wear whenever there was a meeting, or he knew he was gonna see you somehow. Always full of surprises.

Spinner was right, though. You looked lost. You hung around the bar, bored and stagnant. Shigaraki noticed some guys looking at you, making him feel protective and angry. You looked your head around and then you and his gaze met. He figured it was time to approach you.

He walked up to you at the bar with his whiskey in hand. He sat in the chair next to yours and looked at you with a restrained smirk.

"Hi."

"Hi," you giggled.

"Having a good time?"

"So far I've been bored."

"When did you get here?" Shigaraki says sneaky. He saw you come in twenty minutes ago.

"A bit ago."

"Why didn't you come look for me?"

"I saw you with Spinner and Dabi, actually. I didn't know if you wanted me to hang out with you."

"Are you kidding me?" Shigaraki furrows, but sees you genuine face of worry. "Of course, I want to hang out with you. More than Dabi, I can say that."

"I'm just not as cool as most of the others."

"Girlie, you're out of your mind if you think you're any less cool than these losers. You're uh. You're like the coolest girl I know," he begins to transition into a mumble, though you heard every word.

"You're uh," Tomura's head whipped around when you began speaking. "You're cooler."

"I'll agree with you there. I'm better at games. And murderous ways."

"Yea."

"You're a deviant little devil, though," He chuckles, semi-sarcastically.

"Okay, maybe I am cooler, actually."

"Fuck you," He laughs.

He really couldn't handle it anymore. Not being transparent about how he felt about you. He did the good thing, right? He didn't solicit himself onto you and try the nice guy shit. He also wanted to get to know you better, though. But he felt himself get excited to see you. He'd get sad when you didn't text him for a while. He found himself wanting to comfort you, as well as Shigaraki possibly could. He wanted to touch you, and not even sexually (well, yes sexually). He wanted to feel your hair and how you felt hugging him. Oh, yea. His quirk. He's gotten gloves from the Doctor before, though. He can make it work.

"I knew you were here when you got here," he admits.

"I know. You looked over at me a couple times."

"Oh."

"What took you so long?"

"I..uh-" his mind was screaming. "I was nervous."

"You were nervous? When do you get nervous?"

"Tonight. Right now. I-It's just, I-fuck!" He buried his face in his hands, itching the area on his face he could reach.

"What's wrong?"

"I like you," Tomura muffled in his hands.

You're eyes shot wide open and your heart beat faster than you thought possible.

"Really?" You began to smile wide, though Tomura still couldn't see.

"YeuUP! A lot. Like so much so that..FUUUck."

"Being shy is my job!" You giggled, voice shaking. Shigaraki could hear the tremble in your voice and looked at you, seeing your huge smile and bright eyes.

"Yea, well. You're cute. You did this to me!" He scoffs with a cackle.

"I brought the big boss to his knees, then?"

"Uh-huh. Ya got me."

"I, um.." Tomura turned his head to you while you began to speak. "I like you too."

"You do?"

"Yea. I've been scared to say it. I didn't think you did."

"For a data analyst I figured you'd pick up on it."

"Well. Maybe I did. But I doubted that it was true."

"Well," Tomura turned to face you directly this time. "It's pretty canon, as you'd say."

You chuckled at him and looked at his hands. You reached out and trailed your more delicate hands against his, rubbing the inside of his palm. He looked at you in awe, in slight disbelief of what you were doing.

"Do you want to be my girlfriend?" Tomura asked, slightly shaking.

"Yes." You smiled, his hand now holding yours, with his pinky up. "Please?"

"Yea. I'm the one who asked, silly. And I'll get gloves, okay?"

"Okay. I trust you."

"Thanks. So...is it too early to ask for a kiss?"

You blushed and hid your face in your other hand.

"No. But there's all these people."

"True. Let's get out of here then. My room? I got a huuuuge bed."

"What're your intentions?" You blushed.

He shrugged and smirked. "Whatever you want. I also have like, six gaming consoles and a PC. Mario Kart? Or...Smash? ;)"

"Both?"

"Good choice."

#shigaraki tomura #shigaraki x reader #shiggy #tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki #shiggy x reader

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nemmet · 1 year

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Can I request a doodle?

I want you to draw something that makes you very happy :)

i’m so, so sorry that it took me so long to get around to this ask! this is such a lovely and thoughtful thing to submit, i truly appreciate it. :,D

i found that i couldn’t just choose one thing that makes me very happy, so i drew multiple!!! it’s a little silly and mushy, but i still hope you enjoy it. 💕

#once again thank you so much anon!!!! this was just the loveliest possible ask #now i have this little collage of the things that make me smile that i can look at whenever i feel down #🥹🥹🥹#this is kind of like a meet the artist type thing #i bet some people will unfollow me for being a black coffee enjoyer /j #nem art :)#nem askbox :D

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ivyindreamland · 1 year

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#like... sorry for being mean #and i get that coming from me who only got really into her music in 2019 it doesn't mean much #but the idea that people should get priority for accessing tickets bc they jumped through x or y hoops is completely absurd #I've seen posts saying people should be able to provide dated photos proving they were a fan x number of years ago to get tickets #* priority for tickets #it makes sense that people who had tickets for lover fest should get priority bc those shows were canceled #but priority for liking an artist for x number of years is bizarre... a lot of her fans who want to see the show weren't even BORN #before red came out #it isn't normal for artists to put red tape around who gets priority and it shouldn't become normal #this doesn't apply to me bc I got here late like I said but #I've lost a ton of my stuff in traumatic moves #and don't have access to a ton of childhood photos etc #a lot of 'real fans' would be unable to meet the requirements you're suggesting #merch boosts aren't fair either some people can't afford to get merch And concert tickets #and the idea that people should be able to rewatch ads over and over and over again for hours for boosts is also insane #it's easy for bots to do that type of thing #and that kind of behaviour isn't healthy and shouldn't be enabled or encouraged by someone with her level of power #i understand why it's frustrating that people who were cruel to fans for liking her are getting tickets #but there is no fair way to prevent that

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beloved-calypso · 4 months

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・゜ ʚɞ ゜゜𝖂𝖍𝖆𝖙'𝖘 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖘𝖊𝖝𝖚𝖆𝖑 𝖆𝖕𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖑 ♡ ・゜ ʚɞ ゜゜‎♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡ 18+!

♡ “𝒮𝑒𝓃𝓈𝓊𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎 𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒷𝑒𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝑜𝓊𝓇𝒸𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒸𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓋𝒾𝓉𝓎, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑒𝓃𝑒𝓇𝑔𝓎 𝑜𝒻 𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓅𝒶𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈.” – 𝒥𝒶𝓁𝒶𝒿𝒶 𝐵𝑜𝓃𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓂 ♡

All pictures and gifs are not mine but belong to their original artists. ♡

I. -> II. -> III. -> IIII.

ᴍᴅɴɪ!!!

ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ꜱɪᴍɪʟᴀʀ ᴛᴏ ᴍʏ ꜱᴇᴅᴜᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴀɴᴛᴀꜱɪᴇꜱ ᴘᴀᴄ, ʙᴜᴛ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴄᴀʟʟᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱᴜʙᴊᴇᴄᴛ ʀᴇɢᴀʀᴅʟᴇꜱꜱ, ꜱᴏ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ!

~ XOXO 💋🎀

౿૮꒰ྀི pile 1 ๑◞꒱ა

[Ace of Pentacles, Knight of Swords, Five of Cups]

You are a golden opportunity pile 1. People would feel lucky to have you, and they have fantasies that they know for sure you can fulfill. There is a steadiness about you, an abundance of confidence and ease that makes your presence big and undeniable. The closest thing I can liken this energy to is someone in a workplace setting being the number one go to, someone who is fast, reliable, and always gets the job done well and beyond. They are seen as a gem to the people they work with and are a lucky treasure, a constant that never disappoints. This makes your sexual appeal grand and constant. You can never fall below expectations, and you are seen as rare to find and appealing to keep. Always efficient and unshakable. You appear to be almost fearless. Nothing seems to faze you, and you give off the energy of liking challenges. You're very determined and passionate, but you also are a bit of a wildcard. I think this pile can be a bit all over the place, but not so much that you come off as neurotic. You just appear daring. Experimental. You're firm in your wants and needs and are willing to meet your partners halfway, but I also think you're unafraid in showing your distaste. You're vocal, but you won't let anyone cross your boundaries. I feel like you have such a strong and unwavering front that people become more curious about you and want to disassemble you to expose who you are underneath. Not many people carry themselves as well as you do, and that only makes others more and more inquisitive of you. They feel you may hide behind a shell, and want to explore the parts of you others can't see, even if they involve tears, and sadness, and pain, and anger, people want to see that come out because it's raw and authentic, and makes you more relatable, more vulnerable, and more sexy.

⊰᯽⊱┈───── ✧

౿૮꒰ྀི pile 2 ๑◞꒱ა

[Page of Swords, The Tower (rx), Death (rx)]

Hm. It took me a minute to decipher this energy, but now I get it. Pile 2, your sex appeal stems from some darkness that's within you, a well of emotions and mental sharpness that create a type of steeliness about you, an appeal for the unknown and possibly dangerous. On the outside, you could have a sort of innocent feel about you. Some of you may actually be innocent but are in denial of this, still growing and maturing into this energy, but for others, you are actually quite experienced and have explored all types of facets of yourself and other people. You know your emotions, triggers, and know how to look deep within your shadows and make use of them (in a healthy way, of course). You want to teach other people how to do these things too. Ya'll are actually quite jaded, beautifully so. A dark manic type. Kind of witchy. Ya'll likely lean towards a pain and pleasure type of dynamic, a type of satisfaction derived from things nonphysical and uncommon. People feel they have to sacrifice something of themselves to get you. I'm getting a fascination with the body, a want, and need to explore other peoples limits, take them for your own, and consume them. People literally feel like you could chew them up and spit them out with ease. Some here may like BDSM, definitely getting knife-play here, dominance and subjugation, but I'm getting a myriad of things here. Lots of kinks. Many unexplainable (some of you are still exploring). People know that you could test their limits and expose them to things they would otherwise never discover. It's super sexy. Moth to a flame kind of thing. Your allure is strong and almost forbidden. I'm thinking people who are taken would love to have you. You are an experience, a once in a lifetime type of opportunity. Maybe long-term relationships don't come easy to you because people fear they will get burned by you, that either you will be too much for them, or you will get bored of them. There's a mix of reactions from others; some think they can corrupt you, others think you will be the one to corrupt them. There's a mixture of ya'll in this reading that can go either way. You're very decadent pile 2.

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౿૮꒰ྀི pile 3 ๑◞꒱ა

[The Empress, The Chariot, The Hierophant]

Pile 3, you barely have to try. Your sex appeal is very feminine and relaxed. Ya'll are the epitome of chill and unbothered. I think people just naturally gravitate towards you. You're so far off from everyone else, I'm seeing you have your own orbit. People really don't know where they stand with you because your appearance is hard to change, as you greet people with the same indifference. They can't tell if you like them. People feel you are guarded, and it's hard to have your attention. It gets polarizing reactions of, "I want them even more" to, "Why bother?" Your feminine energy has a strong reaction with masculine energy. Men may especially be competitive over you. You just naturally have what men find desirable. You raise peoples hackles without meaning to. To some, you come off as a prize, someone to impress and win over. If you find men are especially aggressive with their tactics of flirtation, it's because they feel they are trying to fight you to get a piece of you. It may seem that sometimes you find yourself the most sensible person in the room, and everyone else is acting ridiculous. That's because you bring out the primal/dumb side of people (basically their lizard brains). You grasp the attention of the room without noticing or caring, and everyone is busy trying to calculate a game plan to come towards you, while you are just your chill self, avoiding anyone that you don't know (there has to be a bunch of Taurus's here, lol). Sometimes, you're just a prize too hard to get, and talking to you is as hard as trying to reach a princess in a tower. Peoples confidence waivers with you because you're so unpredictable, too. You're someone in particular that has something special going on within them that people are curious to know. They also know they can't come to you with shallow offers. You seem the type to want commitment and more than what people are willing to give off the bat. People have to give their best, or chance being like the rest of the crowd. If you don't get as many offers as you would like, it's just because you're intimidating. Your appeal is kind of unexplainable, really, but powerful.

⊰᯽⊱┈───── ✧

౿૮꒰ྀི pile 4 ๑◞꒱ა

[The Tower, Judgment, Queen of Swords]

Hmm, your sexual appeal is powerful, too. People here are especially intelligent, quick-witted, and have a cold, untouchable type of look. I think there's some great, show-stopping beauties in this pile, as I'm getting looks that could cut glass. Ya'll however have what they say, a resting bitch face, and while that sounds disenchanting, it's the opposite in your case. That untouchable quality is exactly why people pursue you. You seem like the type that can destroy anyone that crosses you, and that excites certain people. You give off the impression of pure confidence and grace. You have natural elegance is and public appearences may be important to you, so you try to be on your best behavior whenever you're out in the presence of others. Youre booksmart but also streetsmart because you can sense BS 15 miles from you. People think you have a lot of sexual experience, and believe you can show them a plethora of erotic knowledge. You likely attract younger people. They fantasize about you being their teacher and pushing them down a rabbit hole of sexual discovery. People's fantasies of you are so wide ranging because you give them little to go off of. They're stuck playing the guessing game while you keep cool as a cucumber calculating your next moves. You exemplify leadership and attract people that are wanting to be given direction, in and out of the bedroom. Some suitors will have a masochistic desire. Others will have a need to dominate you. A few will try to level with you, but there's something about you that makes people pick a side. You have intense energy. It's like you trigger people's flight or fight response, which seems strange, but just proves you bringing about peoples primal urges. Some of you have the spirit of a dominatrix, and others just naturally fall into a position of control. Your other half of suitors that have just as much as a dominant trait as you do want to see your perfect, pretty facade demolished. They want to strip you of everything that makes you, you, and have you kneel for only them. There's a quote that I'm being reminded of with this pile, and it's about how the pursuit of sex, is actually the pursuit of power. I would say this is true in your case. Also, lot of your suitors see that you have a judgemental eye and feel they can not disappoint you. No one can come to you acting a fool or with foolish proposals. I think you can be quick to cut someone down, and that's a turn on for some. You also have a way with word's and can seduce with your voice. You know exactly what to say to have someone wrapped around your finger. You've mastered the art of persuasion and making appearances. I think you carry yourself with grace and civility. You have an old soul, a reminder of what societies' ideals used to be in older times, but also a reminder of the hidden and heavy erotiscm that came with that time, too. It's very classy, naughty, and elegant all in one.

⊰᯽⊱┈───── ✧

ᴀɴʏ ᴄʀɪᴛɪᴄɪꜱᴍꜱ ᴏʀ ꜰᴇᴇᴅʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴀʀᴇ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇᴅ. ɪ'ᴍ ᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴀ ɴᴇᴡ ᴅɪʀᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʙʟᴏɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴍ ᴏᴘᴇɴ ᴛᴏ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴘɪɴɪᴏɴꜱ ᴀꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ɪᴍᴘʀᴏᴠᴇ ɪᴛ. ♡

ᴅɪꜱᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀ

© lolita-bonita — Please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my work on other social media platforms without my permission. This is the only platform that I post this type of content. If you see my work being posted anywhere else, please kindly report them to me. ♡

⊱┈───── ✧

✨️ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: Tarot is not an exact science, nor can it produce information that is factually true. All things posted are alleged and for entertainment purposes only. The future is fluid, and what may happen is based on your choices and actions, not what I and a deck of cards say. You are still the creator of your future. ✨️

⊰᯽⊱┈───── ✧

#pick a card #pick a pile #pick a picture #free tarot reading #tarot ask #tarot blog #tarot blr #tarot #tarot reader #exchange readings #free tarot #lolitabonita's #18+ tarot

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writers-hes · 9 months

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tell me you need me (1 of 2) | c. berzatto x reader

It was good when you started but Carmen Berzatto had the ability to make anyone fall in love with him no matter how much you tried not to. (friends with benefits!carmen, smut, mndi!!!, unprotected p in v, smut! smut!, angst!! fluff, maybe some bad words, blood, unedited) MASTER LISTS

TAGLIST

I need you tonight. Want to go?

You sighed at the message that Carmy sent you. “Want to go” was a code for “I want to have sex.” and it’s been working pretty well for these past few months. You both needed some sort of release for the pent-up stress that you both have. Carmy, with the Bear and you, with art. You were a full-time artist; creating art inspired by food using oil paint and other forms of media. You’ve been stressed with your upcoming gallery opening next month. Would they love it? It’s quite hard to meet the expectations after winning the Herb Alpert Award in the Arts last year. It was close to Carmy’s James Beard Foundation award, if not the same. In a way, at the end of the day, you were two people excelling in your jobs except for everything else. You sucked at relationships, friendships, connection…what wasn’t artistic; you sucked at. Carmy was the same. Without thinking, you typed your response, a four letter word. Maybe you’ll see him tonight.

Carmy enters your home like he lived in it. He had his own set of keys, it was easier that way. He’s been so stressed with the Bear and the only thing that he needs is to blow off some of that steam before he can be functional again. There was supposed to be a celebrity who was wishing for a whole fucking kitchen tour tomorrow and he had to stay behind to make sure that everything was perfect.

“Hey,” he greets you when he sees you perched on your couch. He liked your apartment much better; at least you had multiple rooms and your own space. It’s not like his; there was work everywhere while yours felt homey. Except your studio down the hall—damn, how much do artists earn today?

“Hey,” you replied. “Did you have dinner yet? I can heat up some of the Chinese food I ordered earlier.”

“No, no. It’s alright,” he says, removing his shoes in the doorway. You were always so tidy and meticulous. No outside clothes on the bed; he had to learn that the hard way. “Actually, um, can-can I take a shower first? I want to wash the day away and I-I smell like the kitchen.”

“And you took the L,”

“Ubered here, actually.”

“Surge rates?”

“I was in a rush.”

“Oh,” you gulped. “Well, you still have your clothes in my wardrobe and your toiletries in my bathroom.”

“Which one?” he asked. “Which-which bathroom?”

“The one in my bedroom,” you replied. “You know where the fresh towels are. So…”

“Uh, yeah-yeah,” he says. “Thanks.” You only smiled at him. Conversation before your engagements are usually awkward because you both knew what the two of you were there for. It’s more comfortable afterwards; when he talks about the Bear or asks you about your art.

You and Carmy met from a friend of a friend. You were looking for chefs that could serve you inspiration for your paintings when she mentioned Carmen Berzatto. You reached out to him and he replied three months later, telling you that he can show you some of the recipes that he’s been working on. He’s an artist himself—Sistine Chapel art kind of stuff. He explained the components of his dish over dinner in your hotel apartment in New York. You mentioned that you were from Chicago and he mentioned that he’s from Chicago too…you drank too much wine and the rest was history.

You both stopped communicating when he met Claire but he reached out again, asking if you wanted to meet. He told you all about her and how he fucked up. You drank too much wine again. History has the habit of repeating itself.

You swore to never fall in love with Carmen Berzatto and you didn’t…not until recently. He used to leave immediately once you’re both done. Lately, he’s been staying over. He talks to you about everything. He stays over and wakes you up with coffee and some Michelin Star quality pancakes or French toast. He watches you take your first bite before he takes his, likes to watch your reaction and likes hearing your praise.

You were too lost in your reviere to notice Carmen walking to you, all fresh and clean. He lays a hand on your shoulder and kisses your neck.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks, voice deep and sultry.

“You,” you replied, reaching up to massage his curls.

“Good,” he says, removing himself from you and sitting on the opposite side of the couch. “Needed you today…but I want to talk first before…before…”

“That’s fine with me,” you replied, inching closer to him. “What’s wrong?” He puts his hand on your knee, squeezing it lightly. Since when was he so comfortable around you?

“I…I just… Mikey,” The name lingers heavy in the air. Anytime Carmen feels the crushing weight of the pressure, he says Mikey. Whenever he feels inadequate, not enough, never enough—he says Mikey.

“He’ll be proud of you, Carm,” you said, smiling at him. “Like everyone else is.”

“I’m sorry for not inviting you to the opening…Claire was-was there and…”

“I understand,” You put your hand over his to reassure him that everything’s okay. “I understand.”

“You wouldn’t have seen me,” he chuckled. “I was locked inside the walk-in the whole time and well, everything was great. What if I’m not needed?”

Is it too late for me to love you?

“Carm…” you trailed off, trying to find the words. “Of course, you’re needed. The Bear wouldn’t be The Bear without you, you know? Your family must be so proud of you because I know that-that I am. I’m so proud of you and I-I need you so much,” you told him. “I need you, Carmen. More than you could ever know.”

Is it too late for me to love you?

Maybe it was the words that you said, maybe it was the long forgotten show on the T.V., maybe it was because the T.V. screen illuminated your face in a way that was so, so beautiful. Maybe it was just him.

“Let’s go to bed,” he rasps, taking your hand and dragging you to the bedroom. Once he closes the door behind him, Carmy presses you against it, taking your chin and kissing you. It was slow and needy; this kiss was needy. You trail your hand underneath the white shirt that hugged his figure. You caress his sides up and down; softly; slowly and Carmen releases a whimper into your mouth. I need you. I need you. I need you.

“Baby,” he whispers, pulling away from you to remove his shirt. “Baby, baby, baby.”

“I need you, Carmen,” you muster the courage to kiss his neck now, sucking and nipping right under his collarbone. He lets you do it, he lets you mark him like you own him. He tugs on the roots of your hair lightly. You lick the purple bruise, nipping it again just so it could last one more week. Carmen was sighing above you, letting you take him like he wanted to be taken. His hands itch, slipping right under the waistband of your panties to cup your heated cunt. “Carmy,”

“I know, baby. Let’s get you to bed, hm?” he asks, pushing you slightly. “Lay down for me. I missed you so much. Let me show you,”

You obey his commands, opening your legs widely like he likes. He crawls until his face is right in front and removes your underwear, tossing it to the side. He’ll take care of that later.

“You’re so wet,” he groans, when he lets his index finger trail along your slit. You buckle in need; silently begging him to do more. “So, fucking wet,” he repeats, parting your folds until he sees your glistening cunt.

“Carm…” you whine. He spits on your clit and you whimper.

“Let me taste you, hm?” you heard him say, his wandering fingers rubbing all sorts of shapes on your folds. You could only nod and he takes that, licking a bold stripe. You press your cunt against his tongue and he just takes it. He licks a few more stripes before sucking your clit softly.

“Carmy,” you moan. Your hands trail down underneath your shirt, thumbs softly flicking your sensitive nipples. Carmy could just come at the sight of you playing with them but he holds back, sucking your clit harsher before plunging his thick middle finger inside you. “Oh, fuck,”

He pumps the finger slowly…in, out, in, out while he licks your sensitive bud.

“Fuck, Carmy,” you whimper. “Fuck me,”

“Later,” was his nonchalant reply; enjoying the sweet nectar that dripped from your sloppy pussy. It was better than any dessert he’s ever had before. If it was um to him, he’d have his head buried in between your legs, eating you out forever. You buckle again, pinching your nipples hard and tugging them.

“Carm…”

“I know, I know,” he says, sucking your clit harshly for one last time before crawling on top of you. “Taste,” he orders. You obliged, opening your mouth and putting on a show with the way you licked your juices off of his finger. “Fuck,” he groans. He palms himself through his boxers while you sucked on his finger. You released it with one last suck before putting your hand on top of Carmy’s to feel his hardening cock underneath. You push his hand away while you squeeze his member lightly. Just enough for him to rut his hips against your hand. Just enough for him to toss his boxers to the side.

You tried to sit up to see him pump a few strokes, moaning your name while he did. He gets off the bed, looking at the way your body moved while you breathed.

“Beautiful,” he whispers to himself before dragging your body to the end of the bed. He pries your legs open and puts one of them over his shoulder. He liked it like this, it fills you up in ways you cannot describe. “Need you to play with your tits while I fuck you, hm?”

He taps his cock against your pussy.

“Can you hear how wet you are?” he asked, sliding his cock in between your folds. You could feel the protruding vein run along your nub and you moan, massaging your breasts to show him your obedience. “Fuck,”

“Carmy…” you whimpered. “Please.”

He hums, grabbing his member and teasing your wet entrance with his pink tip. “You’re so…”

With no warning, Carmy plunges deep into you and you both groan. You were waiting for this. He’s been wanting this the whole day. He stays there for a few seconds before he thrusts in and out of you slowly.

“Fuck,”

The slopping noises inside your room reverberated in your walls and for a few moments, the sounds of your groans and skin slapping against skin heightens your arousal. Carmy thumbs your clit and he feels your walls clench around him.

“Don’t do that, petal,” he rasps, sweat dripping on his forehead. “I’ll cum fast if you do.”

“Sorry,” you choked out. He only grunts as he adjusts his pace. He was faster now and you could hear he ragged breathing. “Carmy, I need you.”

“Y-you need me,” he repeats to himself. “You need me.”

“I do,” you told him, moaning when he plunges his cock deep inside you. “Need you, need you,”

“Oh, fuck,” he groans. “Tell me that you need me. Tell me,”

“I need you, Carmy,” you whine. “I need you to cum inside me,”

Carmy’s eyes widened. You’ve never let him do that before. He always had to pull out or use a condom.

“Want me to fill you up?” he asks, his voice strained. “I’ll fill you —oh, fuck,”

“Yes, please,” you sobbed, breath hitching at the feeling of his cock twitch inside of you. “Fuck, Carmy.”

Sex has never felt this good.

You could feel the breaking point come nearer and he does too. His movements were sloppier, his breathing even more ragged that it was. Your walls were clenching around him but that seemed to arouse him even more.

“Fuck, fuck,” he grunted. “I’ll fill you up, hm?”

“Yes, please, Carmy,” you whine. He could only nod, doing his best to keep his orgasm at bay. He wanted to prolong this feeling; this emotion but he couldn’t. “Fuck, Carmy, I’m cumming, I’m cumming. Carm—oh!”

He follows soon after, moaning your name as he shoots ropes of cum inside your pussy. He could feel your walls clench around him and he thrusts in slowly, to ride both of your orgasms away.

“You-you liked that?” he asked. He doesn’t pull out. Instead he takes your other leg and hangs in on his shoulder. “We have to make sure that not a drop goes to waste.”

You nodded and felt his hands caress your legs slowly. He slowly lays your legs back down on the bed and crawls on top of you, kissing your torso, neck, and your chest while he did.

“Stay there,” he ordered and you nodded in assent. You just let him cum inside you. He walks over to the carafe on your bedside, filling the glass with water and then, taking a hand towel from your cabinet. He pours a little bit of the liquid onto the towel. You sit up when he wordlessly gives you the glass of water. He watches you finish it and kisses your head when you gave him the glass back. He sets it on the floor carefully before opening your legs so he could clean you up.

“No,” you shook your head and he stops, alert because you told him no. “I’m…I’m still sensitive,”

“Okay, petal,” he nods, taking the glass and the towel away. He picks up the tossed articles of clothing puts it in the laundry basket. He was quiet when he takes a fresh set of pyjamas and underwear from your wardrobe. “Raise your arms,” he says and you do. He puts a new shirt on you. “Lay down.” You followed him. He puts a new pair of panties on you. “Thank you,”

You were so tired now but you were still so aware of Carmy’s actions. He stands up from the bed to wear new clothes and sits down on the bed. He carefully places your head on his lap and plays with your hair.

“Thank you,” he says, bowing down to kiss your forehead. “Why don’t you sleep for me, hm?”

“Will you be here when I wake up?”

“Waffles or pancakes?”

“Waffles with whipped cream.”

Why won’t you let me love you?

There were times when you’d fight with Carmen. A disagreement over something so, so, so small. This time, it was big. It was the opening of your gallery and he promised to be there. It was a big night—multiple art collectors and mongers from all over America came to see your latest pieces. They were all inspired by the food you grew up eating in Chicago; a collection of how culture, identities, and personalities affect eating. Your paintings were in vibrant colors—cup ramen with cheese, cannoli, food that you grew up eating whenever your mom was away. There were small details on the significance of the new collection to your life and he wasn’t there. You were on the stage, telling everyone how grateful you were to the audience but you were preoccupied, looking for a familiar mop of curls in the crowd. He didn’t come. He didn’t go.

You smiled at them half-heartedly before leaving the stage, ready to be whisked away by some art dealer. You were whisked away by multiple guests, asking you for more details on the painting. You all told them everything they needed to know, what they should do if they’d like to make a purchase…

It would have been alright if he texted you…but he promised he’d be there. He promised he’d take you home. He promised.

Carmy was sitting alone in his apartment. He left The Bear earlier than usual and went straight home. He did it all, shower, put a nice suit, and fix his hair. He did it all, he even ran to the nearest florist to buy you flowers but he didn’t go.

Isn’t this what lovers do?

He wasn’t your lover. He couldn’t let himself be distracted again. He had to focus; he couldn’t fail the people that relied on him. He looked at the bag of groceries he got from the store; he was supposed to cook you something special tonight. Have you eaten yet? Fuck the suit that he paid for dry cleaning; fuck the flowers; fuck him. It must have hurt you—he knows that. Tonight was a big night and you were so excited to show him a painting that you’ve been working on.

“I won’t sell it,” you told him. “I’ll have it shipped to you first thing in the morning.”

Would you still send it to him?

By the end of the night, you were exhausted. Happy, but exhausted. It was normal; talking to everyone and being scintillating the whole night was work but it was worth it. Your paintings all had their new owners, except for the painting that you promised to Carmy. Would he still want it? You were alone in the studio, wrapping the 4 by 3 foot canvas with the best quality glassine. You were giving this to him tomorrow. If he doesn't want to have it, you’ll probably just donate it somewhere else.

You laid awake in your bed all night long, waiting for his text. It was funny, just last week he was begging you to tell him that you needed him but when you needed him most, he wasn’t there.

You arrive at The Bear just before it opens, the big canvas tucked under your arm. He was sure to be there and had always told you to use the back door if you weren’t dining. You always obliged, of course, opening the backdoor to reveal everyone. You’ve met Sydney and Richie before but you haven’t met the others yet. You were an alien in an unknown world; Carmy’s employees looking at you, as if wondering who this girl was.

“Hey,” Sydney greeted, looking at the glassine covered thing that you were carrying. “Didn’t know you were coming in today. Congratulations on your exhbit,”

“Yeah, Congrats. What’s that, sweetheart?” Richie asked.

“Oh,” you just nodded. Carmy couldn’t even look at you. “I just came here to give this to…uh, Carmy,” you cleared your throat. “Carm…?”

“Uh, yeah-yeah,” he stuttered. “Can we go to the office?”

“Sure.”

You followed him into the office while Richie tells everyone to go back to what they were doing. Your heart was hammering inside your chest, afraid that this was going to be another one of those petty fights that you’ve had with him.

You were wrong. So, so wrong.

“You didn’t come last night,” you told him, shielding yourself from him with the painting. “I…I waited.”

“Sorry,” was his laconic reply. You nodded, chuckling.

“That’s all?” you asked. “Just…sorry? No explanation, no nothing?” you asked. “I was looking for you the whole night, Carm. You promised you were coming,”

“I don’t know what-what you want me to say,” he says, looking everywhere but at you. “I-I-I’m sorry, okay? I had other plans.”

“You promised months ago that you were coming,” you repeated. “I called Sydney last night because you weren’t answering and she told me that you left early.”

“You’re spying on me now?” he asks, suddenly defensive. “I had things to do that night. I can’t-can’t just put everything on hold for-for you.” He spits his words like venom, voice getting louder with every word.

You frowned, not recognizing who the boy was in front of you. It’s not like you asked him to put his life on hold. Your heart was beating so fast in anger, ears ringing.

“I see. So you just need me around and you-you just I don’t know, call me because you need to get your dick wet?” you asked, matching his volume. “You just need me around when no one else is there to fuck you? Is that it?” you asked. “What the fuck?”

Carmy blinks, tries to think of the words he’s about to say but he couldn’t stop himself. He could never seem to stop himself.

“You’re the only one desperate enough to do so,” he shrugs. It breaks your heart in pieces, really. The nights Carmen spent nuzzling his head in your shoulder before you slept probably meant nothing to him. Your face falls, contorting in hurt at what he just said. Fuck Carmen Berzatto. Fuck him. “I’m not your fucking boyfriend. I don’t know why you expect me to just-just-just do something!”

“Maybe I wanted you there as my friend!” you shouted over. Your voices could be heard from outside but everyone else pretended like they weren’t listening to anything that you both were saying. You were shouting over each other now, the fuse just breaks. “If you didn’t have any fucking plans to actually go, then don’t give me your good for nothing fucking promises!”

“I don’t need a girl leeching on me when I’m opening a fucking restaurant. Do you want me to put everything on you just because you asked me to? I’m not your fucking boyfriend. You know that right? And maybe-maybe I don’t want to be your fucking friend either!”

“Why would I want you to be my boyfriend, Carmy? You’re-you’re fucking unreliable! You have issues that need fixing. You think Claire could fix that? You think I could fix that? You think the girls you get wrapped around your fucking finger can fix your fucked up fucking head? Huh? Is that what you think? You’re so fucking miserable you make everyone around you miserable! Grow up!” He’s hurt. That’s what you thought of him? That he was miserable? Did he make you miserable?

“I don’t need to go to your fucking art exhibition when they’re all fucking shit.”

You closed your mouth before you could protest. The pain of his words felt like a slap on the face. If he regretted it, he didn’t show it. You turned away, nodding.

“Fuck you, Carmen. Don’t fucking call me. Don’t fucking knock on my door. Don’t…don’t fucking think of me. I’m fucking done with you,”

“Yeah? You’re done with me, huh? Fuck you,” he spits back. He heard the waver in your voice; heard how you tried to steady everything. He wanted to say sorry but you were already leaving. Richie and Sydney couldn’t even ask you what happened because you were rushing out, throwing the painting you worked hard on for days at the back. Fuck Carmen Berzatto. Fuck him.

“Fuck!” his chefs could hear from outside the office. Everyone heard the vile things you both screamed at each other; everyone heard why you were so angry. Everyone fucking heard. Nobody dared to move, they didn’t want to be on the receiving end of Carmy’s anger; not when The Bear was about to open. Continuous loud bangs and sounds of some object being thrown were heard too. Sugar sighed.

“Carm?” she called from the door. “It’s almost opening,”

“I-I-I know, Sug.” he replied, blinking. “Uh, can-can you guys go ahead? I’ll be there, I just-just need to you know, calm down?”

“Okay, Bear,” she smiles, tapping the door frame before leaving Carmen in his own thoughts. He gets out of the restaurant through the back door, about to light a cigarette, when he sees the canvas wrapped with glassine.

“Fuck,” was the only thing he could mutter before taking it and sitting where the staff usually stayed at when they wanted a break. He lights up a stick and lets it hang loose on his lips while he opens your gift with shaky hands. He was so immersed in the experience, gently removing the tape and making sure that nothing was ruined that he didn’t notice Sydney.

The glassine reveals a painting of a plate of cannolis. He remembered that he told you the story about cannolis during Christmas and how he wanted to recreate that—take it for himself. He traces over the precise brushstrokes shakily.

“That’s a good painting,” Sydney spoke, her hands behind her back. “Would be a waste to just throw it out.”

“I know,” Carmy nods. “I’m sorry you had to uh, hear all of that.”

“It’s…something,” Sydney replied, making Carmy chuckle.

“I always…always seem to uh, fuck up everything,” he muttered. “I was on the way there, you know? Last night?”

“Yeah. You were so excited,”

“I was,” he coughed. “But I didn’t go because…” Words died down in his mouth. Why didn’t he go? “I’ve said some things and she-she doesn’t want me to call her anymore and I-I understand but like, I don’t know, Syd.”

Don’t know why I could never seem to just let myself enjoy things. I don’t belong anywhere else but in the fucking kitchen. It’s the only thing I was good at.

“I didn’t really want to to, uh, fuck this up.”

I want to talk to you.

Come to my apartment after your shift. Or whenever.

Carmen feels his palms sweat when he reads texts you sent him days ago. He decided to go today, finally—he was never good at confronting things; always so explosive, so defensive. He didn’t know what he’d feel like today. He knocks on your door and hears the shuffling from the other side. He just got out of The Bear; he was tired but he forced himself to go. He had to go.

“Hey,” you smiled tightly when you opened the door. “Come in.”

He nods, wordlessly entering your apartment like how henused to. Bag and shoes on the side. Somehow, this made him more nervous than usual. This was a prelude to something else entirely; he believed that.

“How are you? he asked, voice small and looking down.

“I’m…good,” you replied, looking away. “You?”

“Busy,” he replied. The air felt heavy and his palms were sweating. “I’m…I’m sorry for not being there when I promised you that I would,”

“Why weren’t you there, Carm?” you asked and he could hear the sadness in your voice. He knew that your exhibit meant a lot to you. “You…you told me you will and well, you were…the-the person I want to be there the most.”

“I didn’t know that. I’m- I’m sorry,” he shrugged. “But why? I mean, I-I don’t know art. I like my shit but I-I’m not cool or understand—“

“Because I like you, Carmy.” you told him, looking at him now and trying to go nearer. He stepped back and you stopped your tracks.

“You—what?” he asked, shaking his head furiously; like your confession offended him. “You…like me.”

“I do,” you nodded. “But…it doesn’t matter.”

“Fuck. How many times do we have to go back to this very same place for you to understand?” he asked, running a hand through his hair. He told you before that he didn’t want to date. You told him you understood. You told him he was being egotistic when he told you not to get attached. He wanted to leave. He didn’t expect this to happen—he didn’t want this to happen. “I don��t—I don’t—“

“Carmy,” you cautioned him, trying to ease your beating heart. “Can you listen to me? I-I-I like you, okay and I’ve been thinking about it too. I’m—you’re always staying behind after sex and well, I just maybe thought that you liked me too.” You replied, swallowing his rejection for now.

“I don’t,” he snaps, tone sharp. “We’ll both be miserable in a relationship. I’ll never make-make you happy. You’re right, you know? I’m unreliable and-and-and issues that I need to fix…and I’m not the one you’re looking for,”

“I’m sorry for saying that. It wasn’t my place to do so,” was your meek reply. How does he feel so far away when he feels so, so, so close?

“No, uh,” Carmen blinks, shaking his head. “It’s fine. I-I-I needed to hear those things, you know? I’m sorry too…for everything.”

“Thank you.”

“That’s it then?” he asked. He was distressed. How could he fuck this up after telling Sydney that he didn’t want to fuck things up with you? “I…I had fun,” You were the only one who kept me afloat when everything else turned to shit. I missed you when we stopped talking. I should have fought harder. What else could I have done?

“Fun,” you chuckled bitterly. “Fun…that’s the only thing you’re going to say to me?”

Carmy frowned.

“What else did you want me to say?”

“I don’t know, Carmy!” you exclaimed, pacing back and forth but never towards him. “God! Tell me that I’m important to you. Tell me that I’ll still be your friend…tell me that you—that you—that I mean more than a fuck!”

Silence. Carmy couldn’t find the words to tell you what you truly meant to him…that he wanted what you wanted too but he was too scared to fuck it all up again like he did with Claire.

You nodded, looking away. You breathed in deeply, as if trying to relieve yourself of the hurt. That’s all you’ve ever meant to him.

“You lead me along and it’s fine. I know that it’s my fault for wanting other things but at least…at least tell me that I’ll still be your friend; that I still matter to you even if I dug myself a hole by feeling things. Tell me that you still need me to put everything on hold for you because I’ve been waiting you to call me all day…”

“I don’t want you to do that. I don’t want you putting your life on hold for me,” he rasps. “I don’t…”

“But what if I wanted to?” you asked, face slightly contorted because you didn’t want to be so vulnerable in front of him. Not when he hasn’t told you what you wanted yet. Carmy was just looking at you, tapping his foot on the floor. It was a nervous habit that he developed. Fuck, he needed a cigarette.

“Can you, uh, leave?” you asked, voice low. “I…”

“No, no, no,” he begs, rushing towards you. He grabs a hold of your elbows to remind you that he was there. Would it mean anything? Would his touch convey all of the words he wanted to say?

“Carm…” your voice breaks. “Carm…”

“No, no. You’re not just that to me,” he reassures “But you have to understand that-that I can’t love you like that.”

“Carmen, please…” you beg, tears brimming in your eyes. “Please…just, just leave,”

You’ve never asked him to leave before but it seemed like it was what you really wanted—like it was what you really needed. He nods, kissing your head softly before detaching himself from you.

“I’m sorry,” Carmy said. “For-for not saying the right, uh, things.”

“Yeah,” you nod, hiding yourself from him. He hated that you had to do that when you’ve cried on his shoulders multiple times. He never liked seeing you cry; he just didn’t know that one day, he’ll be on the receiving end of your sadness. He watches you rub your forehead, biting your lip to stop yourself from crying. If you started crying, would he stay?

It’s been months since Carmy left. He’s been in his best form in the kitchen. He was making things easier for his staff; he was working twenty four hours a day. Going to The Bear early to help with prep; staying late to help them clean after a long shift of cooking and cooking and kitchen tours. He’s been getting acclaim—more acclaim, really. There was a waiting list on his restaurant and positive reviews from left and right flooded in. The Bear was dubbed as “The Restaurant of the Year” in Chicago despite being less than a year old.

He’s been doing good—perfect.

It was like he was a hamster in a fucking wheel with no other way to escape. He likes putting himself in gear, like driving fast because it makes him believe that nothing really hurts him. He didn’t like being at home; it reminded him too much of you. It reminded him of when you’d lean on the kitchen counter, a small smile on your lips while you watched him cook you something. He didn’t like sitting on the couch because it reminded him of when he slept with his head on your lap. He didn’t like it in his bedroom because he’s reminded of that night when you pulled him closer in your sleep. He didn’t like The Bear because the painting that you gave him hung so proudly by the dining area. It was marvellous—they said. How was he able to get a painting that you did when your art was so valuable and in demand?

He was moving so fast so you wouldn’t cross his mind but it seemed like no matter what he did, he'd end up thinking about you anyway.

It didn’t matter, how come a fall like that made him feel like flying? Maybe he’s waiting for it to hit him but he was feeling alright.

He was alright.

“Chef!” Sydney called, looking at Carmen who was chopping the vegetables like a madman. “Carmen!”

“Fuck, what, Sydney?!” he asked, slamming his knife on the counter.

“You’re bleeding,” Marcus told him and Carmen looked down, blood was all over the chopping board. “You’ve been bleeding for a few seconds now…we’ve all been calling your name, Chef.”

“Fuck, I-I-I’m…” Carmen was a blubbering mess, just watching his hand bleed like it didn’t matter. “I’m-I’m,”

“Take a break, Carm,” Sydney says but her partner just shakes his head. “Carm—“

“Sydney, don’t—don’t make me take a fucking break, please.”

“You’ll need to clean up and make sure there’s no more blood,” Sydney told him. “I’m not fucking around,”

“Yeah,” he nods, putting his fist over his heart and drawing circles. Sydney nods and Carmy fixes his station.

He couldn’t stop shaking, though. Even Tina saw how his hand trembled. What the fuck?

“Carmen,”

“Yeah…just…just give me a second, please.” he nods, picking his knife again and doing everything perfectly. Like clockwork. He’s back. He’s back. He’s fine. I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m alright.

PART 2

AN: Thank you for the love! This is going to be a two-part fic because I love how everything is right now… Don’t forget to comment / reblog if you like it! I read every single little thing you guys type…even the hashtags.

TAGLIST: @kpopgirlbtssvt @morgthemagpie @hal3ynicol3 @1800-queen-trash

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto angst #carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto #angst #smut #fluff #the bear #the bear fx #carmy berzatto smut

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fleshbride · 7 months

Text

PRESENTING . . . AIN’T NUN BUT A HOOCHIE MAMA!

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ TOJI FUSHIGURO X F!BLK!HOOCHIE READER

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ CW: black fem reader; reader is 26, toji is 34; reader is on the thicker side; usage of the word nigga a few times; smut; breeding kink, hair pulling, dumbification, overstimulation, pussy slapping, impact play, messy pussy eatin’, size kink, hints of sado-masochism, a bit of brat taming, manhandling, praise & degradation, multiple orgasms, cervix fucking, choking, squirting; fwb-ish to lovers (?); pet names are used, such as mama, baby, pretty girl, dollface, princess & sweetheart; reader has a kid of her own; reader is a hoochie, meaning she’s seen as ‘ghetto’ but in a very pro-black & attractive way; reader has a mature body, pudge, cellulite, stretch marks; reader accidentally flashes toji; reader & toji share a blunt; toji is actually a good dad in this!

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ wc: 7.5k

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ this is actually pure filth. this was my first time writing for toji EVER and actually my longest work. guys when i tell you i put some shit into this thing, idk what i did but i SNAPPED. HARD. i hope you guys enjoy this nasty thing that came from my imagination. not proof read or anything so pls excuse my typos!

sometimes, your job could be a godsend. who knew that a simple job at the local hair store would catapult you into meeting one of the sexiest men you’d ever seen?

to be completely honest, it wasn’t solely your job that sparked such an interaction. it was moreso you; you possessed an irresistible, unmistakable charm that was impossible to ignore. your voice, soft as a lullaby, held a dulcet quality that drew people in like a magnet. anytime you opened your mouth to speak, you commanded attention effortlessly, as if your words held some mystical power that captivated any listener.

everyone was always drawn to you, and it wasn't hard to see why. who in their right mind wouldn’t be smitten? you were a vision of beauty, with your radiant brown skin that seemed to glow as if illuminated from within. your smile, perfect and white, could light up even the darkest room, making hearts skip a beat. your eyes were another story altogether. they seemed to sparkle, glimmering with an intensity that was all yours.

your hair was always done, you always made sure that you had a fresh set of lashes. to add, you never forgot to apply your clear lip gloss. now, this wasn't just any gloss, it was your signature, lip gloss added a radiant shine and highlighted the natural beauty of your plump and full lips. your lips, always so perfectly glossed, assumed an irresistible charm that made them look especially appetizing.

to add onto it, your personality was in tip top shape, matching your looks. while sometimes your mouth could get a little reckless, you had an air of kindness, professionalism and just genuine good vibes. it was hard to dislike you, no matter the case. you were a woman of wonders.

you loved your job at the hair store too; maybe that was why your attitude was always good while you were there. it paid well, the hours were flexible and it was something you enjoyed. you loved how your manager let you pick out the wigs and the outfits that would be displayed, and sometimes she let you take home left over makeup and jewelry — which was how you got your favorite set of hoop earrings.

working at the hair store also granted you all types of experiences. sometimes you met upcoming make-up artists and beauticians, hair dressers, nail techs, lash techs — you always made sure to be extra helpful and friendly to everyone you met, just in case they could ever help you.

or… on the rare occasion, you met men. often, they were coming in for their wives, daughters, sisters, nieces, friends — and each time, they were clueless. of course, you helped, breezing past them with the smell of bubblegum and perfume, preferably daisy by marc jacobs.

today was no different.

you were the only one working in the store this saturday, and it was roughly around 12 in the afternoon. the sound of needed me by rihanna echoed through the store, giving it a nice ambiance. you clocked in at 9, and were scheduled to get off at 4 — you had a bit of a long day ahead. however, the store had been a bit slow today. not many customers entered; maybe three every hour, compared to a usual 7-15 people per hour. you were both grateful and a bit sad for the lack of people, as it left you with extra time on your hands.

instead, you found yourself thinking of your six year old daughter at home. alaina, your sweet girl, who was at her grandmother’s for the day. you fondly rubbed the bead bracelet she made for you, that spelled out mommy. your daughter was the most loving child you knew, and you adored her with every part of you.

as you gazed at your bracelet, you let out a soft hum. you’d have to get her another one from here, even though she already had a plethora. whatever you got from the hair store, you usually shared with alaina.

the entrance bell dinging had you snapping out of your thoughts of your daughter, turning your head to greet whoever entered. your boxbraids slid down your back as you looked. it was a little girl who entered, no more than nine. she was in a cute blue dress, with dark brown hair pulled into a ponytail. her cheeks were rosy, which had you cooing at her mentally.

“hi baby,” you called out to her, looking behind her for a parent, “where’s ya mama, hm? a lil’ one like you shouldn’t be walking around all alone.” the girl hadn’t noticed you, and jumped when you called to her. she put her hands up, waving them enthusiastically. “o-oh no, miss, i’m with my dad! he’s just getting his wallet. do you know where the nails are? and the makeup?”

you smiled at the little girl, stepping from behind the counter. you were in a beige sun dress, with some matching wedged sandals. the sundress was long, coming down to your ankles, but there was a slit on the side. it hugged your curves nicely, even though your little bit of pudge was much noticeable; you didn’t care. to be honest, the dress covered way more than your usual outfits, especially in the summer like this. you had never been scared to show your body, even after you had alaina and people insisted on you covering up; because you were a mother now. however, you didn’t give a fuck. if you wanted to wear your shortest shorts, you would.

“c’mere baby girl, it’s this way.” you offered the young girl your hand, which she took happily as you led her. “i’m assuming you’re looking for the press ons, right? not the ones you glue?”

the girl gave you an enthusiastic nod. “yes, ma’am!” she was polite, you noted, with a curl of your lips. her father must be raising her right. “my dad says i’m not big enough to ruin my nails with glue..”

you let out a laugh as you squeezed the girl’s hand. “your daddy’s right,” you mused, “stick to the ones you can press til you become a teenager.” you brought her to the kiddie nails, and stood with her while she made her pick.

the young girl seemed stuck between a pair of pink ones leopard print ones, and blue zebra print ones. “what do you think, miss? i can’t choose.”

you only gave the girl a shrug. “i say get both. let ya daddy worry, not you.” however, because you liked this little girl, you’d only charge her for one anyways. the girl nodded in agreement, giving you a giggle, which you quickly reciprocated.

all of a sudden, you heard the gruff call of, “tsumiki! where have you ran off to?” the girl perked up immediately, and ran to the end of the aisle. “dad! i’m over here!” she called, waiting patiently for him to come over.

you raised your eyebrow as you made your way over. you were a bit curious to see the man who had raised such a sweet and polite girl. as you reached the end, your eyes widened as they set on the man.

he was tall, unbelievably so. his towering stature, reaching at least 6’2, must’ve made him stand out in any crowd. his body was muscular, brawny and well-built, and t he black compression shirt he wore clung to his chiseled frame, accentuating the broadness of his shoulders. his hair, a deep black, was just a bit shaggy — the perfect length to frame his strikingly sharp face.

his eyes were a vivid green, so piercing that they could make anyone feel as if they were the only person in the world. they locked onto you and tsumiki. his attractiveness was lethal, and it was impossible not to notice the way he looked over you. his gaze was slow, lingering, and purposeful, almost as if he wanted to make sure you noticed his attention.

you would’ve been phased if you were a different woman; but you weren’t. instead, you gave him your trademark smile, looking up at him with a warm aura.

a scar sat on the corner of his lip. it twitched slightly as his lips curled into a smirk, making him look even more attractive to you then he already did.

“you work here?” came his deep, rough voice. it provoked goosebumps down your skin, but you didn’t allow yourself to show it.

“yup,” you answered, “sorry i wasn’t at the counter, i was helpin’ miss thing here pick out some new nails.” you watched toji’s mouth open, and held up a finger, “and yea, before you ask — it’s the press ons. no glue needed.” the man let out a hum and gave a nod of approval.

“good. tsumiki, go put those on the counter and if you want anything else, ya better pick before i get back up there.” he told her; his voice was rough, yet still somehow sounded caring. when tsumiki scampered away with an, “okayyy!”, he turned his vision back to you.

the once over he gave you earlier didn’t seem to be enough. he gave you another; from your champagne blond knotless boxbraids which were long and down your back, curving over the swell of your ass, down to your painted white toes in your sandals. shit. you were fucking hot.

“how old are you?” he asked boldly, not wasting a second.

you raised an eyebrow, “you ain’t ever heard it ain’t good to ask a lady her age?”

“so old enough,” he countered back with a smug smirk. “have you been able to drink legally for at least two years?” still asking your age without pointedly asking like before.

“i’ve been old enough to drink legally for five years,” you relented, “so like i said, old enough. why you askin’?”

“i like to know the ages of my women before i hit on ‘em.”

you grinned. you already knew you were going to like this man, and his attitude towards you solidified that. “and i like to know the age of my men before i let them,” you combatted.

“thirty-four,” he answered immediately, and the corner of your lips pulled up in satisfaction. twenty-six and thirty-four. not a bad age gap, only eight years. you could manage.

“you allowed to hit on me now,” you said playfully as you slid past him, “don’t make the shit corny, ‘cause i’ll laugh at yo ass.” maybe that’s his plan, you thought, him tryna laugh me out my panties.

the man let out a bark of a laugh, following after you. you could almost feel his eyes locked on you as your hips swayed while you walked. he only chuckled out, “oh, don’t worry about that.”

you went back behind the counter, ready to pay for their things. tsumiki had thrown a stack of bracelets on the counter, and a new tube of sparkly pink lip gloss to which you scanned and then only scanned a pack of the nails. her father raised an eyebrow at you, but you pretended not to notice. “that’ll be 18.75,” you informed. her father pulled out thirty dollars and slid it to you. as you prepared to give him the change, he shook his head.

“don’t need the change. consider it a tip or somethin’.” you furrowed your brows at him, but didn’t question the customer. instead, you handed them their things with a sweet smile. “bye, lil’ missy,” you told tsumiki, before looking up at the man, “come back soon.” your voice was low, and quite flirtatious. he gave you a smirk.

“oh, i will.”

and he did.

it was three days later when he finally came back. you were leaned over the counter, examining your new nails. it was hot, too hot to even be working. the doors were open, and the AC’s were blasting, trying to cool off the store. you wore a jean miniskirt, with a fat gucci belt on your hips. you paired it with a cropped pink tank top that had a deep v-neck, showing off a bit of your cleavage. your golden nameplate sat perfectly on the apex of your breasts. today on your feet instead of sandals were your pair of pink and white dunks. you had taken out your box braids, and gotten your hair done the same day you got your nails done.

now, you had gotten a lace front installed — and you looked good as fuck. it was a deep shade of vibrant purple, down your back. you had added your own spin, doing one of those heart shaped parts and gelling it down the side of your forehead, and doing edges on the side.

as someone entered, you turned your head to the side to greet them. “good afternoon,” you said cheerfully, looking at the woman who entered. she was dark skinned, with a bumped bob. her makeup was done sharply. you watched as she side eyed you, and muttered out a terse, “hello.”

immediately your eyebrows furrowed. “bitches got an attitude, okay,” you grumbled under your breath as she disappeared into the aisles. it was a few minutes later when she came to the register with a flat iron. off the rip, you told her, “oh mama, you don’t want this one. a few people who purchased this one have said that it heat up too quick and smoke a lot, then breaks. so go ‘head and get another one.”

the woman glared at you, looking you up and down. “excuse me, i didn’t ask for your opinion on what i’m buying. and if it’s so faulty, why haven’t you taken it off the shelves?”

her attitude immediately had you tilting your head, trying your best to bite your tongue. “ma’am, that ain’t my job, i don’t do merchandise, i work at the register.”

she rolled her eyes at you, before snapping out, “then don’t say anything about said merchandise.”

your next words came out before you could even think about it, “ho, i’m tryna help you not burn this crispy fuck ass bob off but okay.” upon realizing what you said, you didn’t apologize nor change. instead you cocked your head, tilting it, while staring at her blankly.

“excuse me?” the woman asked, “honestly, i don’t think i’m taking hair advice from a woman who don’t wear hers natural, and has her skirt digging up her ass. how old are you? you have to have a child at home, dress with more fucking class before you talk about me,” the woman’s face was twisted as she snapped at you.

“i know damn fuckin’ well,” you said slowly — and just like that, you knew you were about to cuss her ass out. “i know DAMN fucking well that you’re not talking to me like that. bitch, are you mad that your ass built like a fuckin’ square? bitch be mad then cause that’s why yo ass slope like y=mx+b. bitch, don’t you EVER question my fashion choices when you’re wearing leather in 87 degree weather. you fuckin’ cereal box built ass bitch, you know what, i got a trick for you—“ you quickly took the flat iron from her and pointed a nail at the door. “now get the fuck out, bitch you’re banned.” the woman opened her mouth to retort, but you were faster, talking over her, “bitch, i don’t give a FUCK. get the fuck out.”

the woman mumbled a, “ghetto bitch.” before storming out the store while you massaged your temples. it was nothing you hadn’t heard though. “fuck be wrong with bitches. man, i need a fucking BLUNT.”

“personally, i would’ve hopped over the counter.”

you looked up at the familiar voice, seeing the man you met the other day. immediately, a grin spread across your face. “look who came back.”

“told ‘ya that i would.” he mused, walking up to the counter, “you should’ve thrown the flat iron at her face. i would’ve paid money to see that.” he wore a white wifebeater and black basketball shorts. did he just come from the gym or something? the lack of clothing allowed you to see just about all of his muscles, and god, were you pleased.

you snorted, giving him a playful eyeroll. “shit, i was fuckin’ thinking about it. you saw the whole thing?” the mystery man, who you decided to dub mr. man, gave you a nod. “positively. you cleaned her so beautifully, and i have to add, you look so, so appealing when you’re angry.”

“shut up, nigga,” you laughed as you put your elbows on the counter, cupping your face with both hands. “what’re you here for?” you looked up at him, and he mimicked your action, fitting his fat ass arms on the counter.

“i need some hair gel for my son. he’s in this spiky phase, shit, i don’t know,” mr. man rolled his eyes a little bit, before adding, “and i don’t know which to pick. as you can clearly see, i don’t use gel.”

you let out another laugh, coming from behind the counter. “yeah, c’mon mr. man, i’ll show you which to use.” off the rip, you noticed how his eyes locked on your body.

yeah, i got it like that, nigga, your inner thoughts said as you internally hyped yourself up.

“mr.man?” he questioned from behind you, his eyes focused on the way your hips swayed, and the way a little bit of your ass was uncovered by the skirt.

“well, you never told me your name, so i gave you a nickname.”

he snorted a little before saying, “well, my name’s toji, for one.” you thought about it for a second for a second. was that a moanable name? you went through it in your head. yeah. definitely moanable.

“my name y/n,” you finally disclosed, “but everybody just call me n/n.” toji nodded a little. “n/n… that’s cute.” you noticed one of the items had fallen off the shelf, and without hesitation, you bent over to pick it up, completely forgetting about the fact that you were wearing a skirt, and the man behind you.

toji almost had a fucking heart attack. his eyes zoomed in onto your now slightly revealed ass, your sheer red panties that showed the plush outline of your pussy. shit. shit. it was over in a second, much to his mixed chagrin and gratefulness. however, he wasn’t some boy — he maintained a straight face and control. you placed the item back on the shelf and resumed walking.

“alright,” you said, as you reached the gels, “see, here’s what i use for my daughter,” you held up a jar of eco. “eco holds good for her, and it lasts long, to be honest. her hair is a bit thicker. and it doesn’t have like color residue like prostyle gel.” you grabbed the black container of prostyle gel. “but if your son has like brown-black hair, it’ll be good.” toji shook his head, saying, “nah, he has that weird bluish-black.” you tutted and put the prostyle down.

“there’s also gorilla snot gel, which i recommend if his hair is straighter, you feel me?” you held up the yellow bottle of gorilla snot.

toji looked at both and let out a short groan. “i can’t decide. i’ll take ‘em both and see which works better.” you shrugged and passed them to him. you took note of how positively huge his hands were. they could probably cover your whole face. or… your entire ass.

“i didn’t know you had a little runt too,” he made conversation with you as you walked back to the counter, “i forgot you’re almost 30.”

“yeah i forget too, trust,” you laughed a little, “my little girl’s my pride and joy, her name’s alaina. she’ll be starting first grade this year, i’m so proud of her. i actually got pictures.” you pulled out your phone and showed him your lockscreen which was the two of you. toji chuckled.

“y’all look alike, cute,” he commented, “my son’s seven, and tsumiki’s eight. you met her last time.” you fondly recalled your encounter with the polite young girl. “you a single parent, too?”

you gave him a nod, and a shrug. “alaina’s daddy claimed he wanted nothing to do with her, so i kept it like that. then his stupid ass got locked up, thank riddance.” toji let out a short laugh. “tsumiki’s mom was my first wife, and we divorced. megumi, my son, his mom was my second. unfortunately, she passed.”

“aw,” you said, pouting sadly and placing a hand on his large arm. “i’m so sorry for your loss, sweetheart. i hope you’re doing alright.”

toji laughed a little. “i’m fine, pretty mama, don’t worry about me.”

you bristled at the new nickname, giving toji a wicked grin. “that’s how you referring to me now?” you asked, as you slid behind the counter to the register.

“you’re pretty, and you’re a mama,” toji said with a shrug. “it honestly only fits.” you very pointedly made sure to check him out and said, “mmhmm..”

as you rung him up, toji said, “does alaina need any new friends? my son’s a bit shy and doesn’t talk to nobody but his sister… maybe they could have a few play dates?”

“yeah, i’d love that!” you answered, a genuine smile coming onto your face. anything referring to your daughter made you happiest. “your total is 14.95. here i’ll give you my number...” as toji paid, you rang it up. on his receipt, you wrote your number and passed it to him.

toji grinned and gave you a nod. “see you around.” you wiggled your fingers in return.

see him around, you did. you and toji were quick to hook up play dates whenever your schedules aligned. you became familiar with the routine of getting off work in the afternoons and scooping alaina’s to head to toji’s to play with her two new best friends.

you and toji often stayed downstairs, while they played in tsumiki’s room. you and toji would watch movies, roll blunts and eat food — or sometimes even play texas hold ‘em, in which you won every single time.

toji would grumble, and accuse you of cheating, when in truth, he was really just a bad gambler, but all was well. you considered toji a good friend… of sorts.

because that’s what you two were; friends. friends who sometimes flirted a little; you considered toji a friend when you’d bend over to pick things up in those skimpy jean shorts you wore; toji considered you a friend when he’d slide past you, pressing his crotch against the curve of your ass and muttering a, “excuse me, n/n,”; you considered toji a friend when you’d play sexyyred and say the lyrics a little too… forceful; and he considered you a friend when he’d make slick little sexy comments about your body before adding, “that’s just what other guys think.”

safe to say… there was a bit of tension between you two. and finally, it came to a crescendo.

it was normal, at first. like usual, you and alaina were at toji's house. it was around 9:30pm, and the kids had collapsed after playing all damn day and finally having a meal of chicken nuggets. you remembered the look on your face discovered them. they were heaped in the large bed; tsumiki had more than enough room for all three of them, yet they were together. alaina was draped over megumi and tsumiki, her face in megumi’s chest but her body pressed to tsumiki’s. they were all tangled up, limbs skewed and whatnot.

and now, you and toji were together downstairs, toji watching as your nimble fingers crafted the blunt — his were too fat. your feet were in his lap, and he was watching you with those bright green eyes. as you rolled, you were mumbling one of sexyy’s songs. “fuck me like you mad at me, baby.. i need that dick to drive me crazyyyyy…” you sang under your breath.

toji raised an eyebrow at you, “the music you listen to has some really… meaningful words.” as you licked at the blunt, you let out a laugh. “i agree with everything she say. when suki said that if you ain’t eating coochie, you ain’t fucking, i felt that one.”

finally, you perfected it and grabbed toji’s lighter. “you only fuck eaters?” he said, amusement trickling through his voice. you lit the blunt and took a deep inhale, masterfully blowing it up into your nose and then out again before passing it to him. “yup. only fuck eaters ‘cause they do it the best. you an eater, toji?” you asked pointedly, watching as one of his rough hands drew circles on your leg, then up to your knee, while the other lifted the blunt to his lips. he took an inhale, then another. god, you hated double hitters, but it was okay — it was only you two.

“wouldn’t you like to know?” toji shot back, his trademark smirk sliding across his face. his lip twitched, scar jumping.

“that’s why the fuck i asked you, toji,” you clapped back immediately, making the older man squeeze your leg while passing the blunt back. “watch your mouth, n/n. don’t get fucked up.”

“or what?” you immediately retort, holding the blunt up to your lips as you took another puff. “you not gon’ do shit to me, toji, like i honestly wish you w—“ your words were halted by the man throwing your legs off his lap, one hand going to spread them roughly as he pressed his fingers against your clothed cunt.

“i’m not gonna do shit?” he repeated, as your eyes went wide; he had obviously startled you, but you weren’t opposed to this one bit. as his fingers rubbed at your pussy through your shorts, you shook your head feverently again, looking at him as you held the blunt to your glossed lips. “not a damn thing.”

when all toji did was nod, you were sure you were in for it. and you were. he was quicker than you, grabbing your hand that held the blunt and quickly forcing you to put the blunt in the ashtray. the smoke you were holding in your mouth was forcefully removed as toji roughly pressed his lips to yours, the smoke being shared between you two as he pried your lips apart.

the next few minutes were coated in a needy haze. his big hands were everywhere, all over your body. moving to squeeze at your tits, your ass, your thighs. eventually the settled on the waistband of your shorts and began to unbutton them. before pulling them off completely, leaving you in your lacy dark blue thong.

he pinched the plush of your pussy, barely hidden by the panties — more like decorated by it. immediately, the scent of your slick, which was already dripping, filled toji’s nostrils, making him let out a wanton moan.

“fuck, mama,” he hissed as he trailed his finger down your slit, “you always this wet? this is how you’ve been the entire time?” he looked up at you, eyes darkened with lust.

“no,” you lied immediately, giving him a reckless smirk. “she just like that off the rip. i determine whether it’s for you or not.” toji only let out a little laugh. “word?” he asked. you opened your mouth to repeat the word back to him, but you were rudely interrupted by him slapping your pussy.

it wasn’t hard, but it wasn’t exactly soft, the pain sending sparks of pleasure through you. you hissed out a, “shit..” toji smirked at your reaction as he pushed your panties to the side, before delivering another smack, this time a litle harder. you let out a mewl, squirming in his hold.

“crazy,” toji said to you, “two lil’ slaps just made you leagues wetter. you sure you’re not wet for me?”

you refused to answer, only giving him a shrug. “so you wanna be a brat now, huh?” he asked you with an eyebrow raise as he began to pull the panties down your thighs. “like you weren’t jus’ all over me. ‘toji, you a eater?’” he mocked you in a high pitched voice as he pulled you forward, legs sliding over his broad shoulders. you remained silent, biting your tongue. maybe you were a brat; you knew that with toji’s strength and stamina, you would get much more if you drew it out. plus, you wanted to make him work for every moan, every word.

“you gon eat my pussy or not?” you asked boldly, your hand going to lace through his hair, nails pressing against his scalp. “like literally, shut the f—!” you were interrupted by toji latching his mouth onto you, completely ripping the words from your mouth.

his tongue, long and flat, slid between your plush folds, calloused hands digging into your thighs as he shoved his face between your legs. off the rip, his motions were rough and quick, tongue swirling against your clit before going down to your hole, curling against it to lap at your essence. you gripped the couch as you let out soft moans, trying not to be too loud — you didn’t wanna fuel toji’s already large ego.

“fuck,” he mumbled as he pulled away, “pussy’s so sweet, baby. i should’ve bent you over in that fucking store the day you wore that skirt.” you were unable to respond before he was diving back in, tongue messily trailing througu your pussy. he was there between your thighs, feasting on what you offered, lapping up all the sweet nectar you had to spare. his lips latched onto the delicate bud of your clit, sucking with a fervor that left you gasping, while he looked up at you with a gaze that was as heated as it was prideful.

one of your hands found its way into his hair, tangling in the soft locks as you gripped it tightly, the other clutching onto the plush fabric of the couch as though it was your only lifeline. your breaths were coming out in ragged gasps, each one harder to catch than the last, your mouth falling open in that perfect 'o' shape as you let out sounds so sweet and melodious, singing a song of pure pleasure just for him.

and you couldn’t help it; euphoria was pulsing through your body, coating your thoughts in nothing but toji. your toes curled, as toji slid his tongue inside of you. god, he was so messy, your slick already all over his face, his spit mixing with your slick as it trailed down your ass.

you were incessantly moaning, unable to even downplay or disguise it anymore. “s-shit, toji, fuck, that feels so good—!” he looked up at you with satisfaction as he slid his tongue into your entrance, curling it upwards against your walls.

you squealed, trying to scoot backwards away from the pleasure, but he was quick to yank you back, trapping you against his mouth, his hands coming to wrap around your thighs. one of his fingers traced the stretch marks on your thighs. he worked his fat tongue inside of you, curling and sliding as his pointer finger swirled your clit at such a fast pace, you was sure he was gonna give you something close to a rug burn.

his paired actions had you spiraling over the edge, the coil in your stomach stretching and stretching until it was ready to snap. “toji, ‘m close—! fuck, fuck— gonna cum!” toji’s movements became much more insistent, gaining in speed as he basically shoved you over the edge.

your orgasm hit you like a brick, your back arching off the couch as you gripped toji’s hair tightly, whined babbles of repeated words leaving your lips. if it weren’t for toji holding you down and anchoring you, you were sure that you would’ve grown fucking wings and soared away.

you creamed all over his tongue, and he made sure to pull away, before messily spreading it throughout your pussy, just to lap it all up over again, letting you settle, working you through the after effects of your climax.

you sucked in ragged gasps as toji pulled away, licking his lips and wiping his face. he stared at you with such intensity, shivers went down your skin. your eyes immediately focused on his hard dick through his sweats, the outline prominent. you tapped your foot on his thigh. “gimme that,” you breathed.

“do you deserve it?” toji said back, his voice a bit raspy. “been a bratty slut this whole time. you were so cocky, remember? i don’t get you wet, right?”

you wanted to maintain your pride, you really, really did. but desperate times called for desperate measures. “c’mon, toji,” you sighed sultrily, “i was just playin’.. just wanted to make it a little fun for you, you know that..” you spread your legs a little more, teasing him as you continued, “it’s all yours, i swear — been waiting for this for such a long time.”

toji only gave you a soft chuckle and the only words gave you were, “that right, baby?” immediately, he scooped you up with a single arm, flipping you over onto your hands and knees. you let out a noise of surprise, but immediately arched your back, looking back at him as he pushed his sweats down his thighs. his dick sprung up, and you couldn’t say you were shocked by it.

his dick was both fat and long, and it almost made your eyes pop out of your head. he had to be at least eight inches, veins running up the side of his heavy dick. his tip was a dark apricot shade, and it was leaking bad, opaque beads of precum sliding out of his slit. he was well trimmed, with heavy breeder balls. you almost salivated. but at the same time, you questioned how all that was even supposed to fit in you.

he seemed to know exactly what you were thinking. “don’t you worry, princess. you’ll take every inch of me.” one of his hands gripped your ass, spreading your cheeks apart as he directed his tip against your entrance, slapping it there a few times, making you groan in need. “t-toji, stop fuckin’ playin—!”

once again, you were rudely interrupted by him pushing the tip inside of you. he let out a hiss, your walls sucking him in. however, with just how wet you were, he slid right back out. he let out a snicker as he leaned his hand down to slap your pussy again. “but you not wet for me, alright..” he lined himself up again, and this time — he didn’t push into you slowly.

with one rough thrust, he filled you to the brim, forcing you forward as you let out a strangled noise, clawing at the couch. “toji! oh fuck..!” you pulled your hips forward, trying to get him to pull out a little, but he wasn’t having it. “s-shit, i’m not even all the way in yet,” he huffed, hair hanging in his eyes. toji was letting out pants, it felt as if your pussy was fucking suffocating his dick, strangling it.

inch by inch, he pushed the rest of his dick in, until the plush of your ass was nestled against his pelvis and stomach. he yanked at his shirt, pulling it off of his body. your slick was already coating him, dripping down to his balls. you were a mess, mewling just from him entering. you felt so full — his dick stuffing you better than you ever had been before. and it was driving you out your mind.

toji didn’t wait for you to adjust. with one hand on your ass, thumb rubbing against the ridges and dimples, and the other lacing through purple hair, toji pulled all the way out, and then slammed all the way back in. the force of his motions shoved you down into the couch, and immediately you let out a cry of, “t-toji! slow down!”

but slowing down wasn’t apart of his agenda. he rasped out, “nah, this is what you wanted, baby. so take it. take my dick like a good fuckin’ girl.” he began snapping his hips into you, the veins on his dick dragging against your walls just right. your cunt clamped down on him every time he tried to pull out, as if it was forcing him to make your cunt his new home.

toji was mesmerized by the way your ass jiggled and clapped with every movement he made, the sound of your skin slapping filling the air. he slapped your ass hard and then squeezed, making you squeal once more. “fuck, look at you. bouncing this ass back on my dick so good..”

at his praise, you looked back at him before proudly twerking back on his dick, putting on a little show. he laughed, his hand trailing from your hair to snake around your throat. “such a fuckin’ slut,” he said gruffly, before pulling his hips back so that only the tip was inside before ramming his dick back inside of you.

you felt him nudge against your cervix, and you let out a noise close to a scream, while his hand tightened around your throat. tears filled your eyes at the pain, your lashes beginning to slide. “you’re gonna wake up the kids, princess. wouldn’t want them to come down to seeing you getting fucked like some whore, right? keep that pretty mouth quiet.” he leaned down, chest pressing against your back as he curled his much larger body against yours. “but not too quiet. wanna hear you lose your fucking brain over this dick.”

his other hand came to wrap around your throat, and he began to jack hammer into you, slamming you on his dick over and over. your eyes rolled back, a mix of pain and pleasure twisting through you, that coil getting ready to snap again. “t-toji…” you slurred out, “g-gonna fuckin’ cum again…!”

“so fucking do it,” toji hissed as your clenching began to get more intense. “paint my shit, baby.” his voice was sending shivers down your spine, aiding your increasing pleasure. you let out ragged moans into the couch as your body trembled, pussy spasming wildly around his dick as you came a second time.

he didn’t slow down through your orgasm, instead, he went faster, if that was even humanly possible. he pressed down on your head, forcing your face into the couch, and pressing on your belly simultaneously. it forced you to have a deeper arch, but it also made you feel just how deep he was inside of you. pressing his big hand against your stomach to feel his bulge had toji grinning.

you were a wreck, tears sliding down your face, your lashes long fallen of. you were pretty sure your lace had peeled, but you didn’t care. you could barely think, barely form coherent sentences with how toji was fucking you. and he knew it. he knew he reduced you to a mess, and he wasn’t even halfway finished with you.

soon, he felt his orgasm coming, and he let out a deep groan. “shit.. where do you want my cum, doll? ‘m getting close..” you were quick to whine out, “i-inside, toji.. want you to cum inside…!”

“haah!” he grunted out with a smirk, “want me to fill you up, huh? want me to stuff you full with my cum? yeah, i bet you fucking do, look at you.”

“toji, toji, toji, fuckkk.. want your babies, c’mon, make me a mama again—!” toji laughed shakily at your dumb response, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “fuck yeah, dollface. you better not spill not one drop, alright?” he let out a strangled moan as he released, his thick cum filling her to the walls.

you sucked in harsh breaths, finally feeling relieved after toji’s constant fucking stopped. he seemed to slow down, gently fucking his load into you. you began to relax… however you were sorely mistaken.

“you thought i was done with you?” toji asked as he gripped you, flipping you over so that he could see your face. you looked a mess, but you were so, so pretty. your eyes were watery, face with tear trails all over. your lips were bruised from how much you’d been biting them. at least your hair was still intact… for now. toji leaned down and pressed a kiss to your jawline, down to your throat. he yanked at the top you wore, and when it didn’t want to cooperate, he ripped it and peeled it off of you himself. “toji, my shirt….” you whimpered but he dismissively waved a hand. “you’ll get one of mine.” he reached behind you, unclipping your bra and letting your tits spring free.

his big hands almost swallowed them as he began to leave bites and kisses all over your throat, collarbone and chest. “can’t possibly be done with you,” he said against your skin, “been waiting to fuck you like this since i laid eyes on you, doll.”

he left a plethora of hickies on your skin, very obviously marking you as his. you were still speared on his dick, and he began to roll his hips languidly inside of you, curving into your g-spot repeatedly. the feeling had you seeing stars as he gripped your legs and pulled them around his waist. with each thrust, he began to get more forceful and speed up, until once more, he was pounding your insides.

your nails went to his back, scratching, making toji wince in pain as his hips collided with yours. three of your nails had broken off. a third time, you felt yourself reach your climax once more, but it felt different. painful almost, with the last your clit throbbed. you managed to push away the toji-shaped clouds in your brain and realized.

“t-toji—! toji, ‘m gonna squirt!” you cried out as you twisted in his hold, the pleasure becoming overwhelming for you. “t-toji—!” he only smirked at you, yanking you closer. “make a mess f’me, mama. wanna see you get all messy… c’mon, c’mon, make that pretty pussy squirt on my dick.” he pressed another messy kiss to your lips as his hand snuck down to rub your clit, forcing more pleasure into your system. you let out a ruined, gasped noise — like you wanted to scream but couldn’t get it out. clear liquid gushed from you, coating toji’s lower half, some of his abdomen and the couch.

you were in too much of a haze to notice that soon after, toji came inside of you a second time. he didn’t pull out at first, instead opting to lay his head against your sweaty skin, pressing kisses. he realized that you would be completely gone for a bit, after that, so he was gentler with you. he pulled out, watching his cum slowly dribble from your hole after the two creampies he gave you. not wanting you to sit in your own fluids, picked you up and brought you to his room, putting you one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers before tucking you in.

he went back downstairs, eyes locked on the mess you made on the couch. a soft whistle escaped as he plucked your lashes off the sofa and put them on the table.

you probably wouldn’t become his girlfriend yet; but you damn for sure weren’t going anywhere now.

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reredaydreams · 1 month

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Red Lace || Masterlist

A story of when an artist falls in love with their muse.

Summary: you were at a point in life where you had no clue what you were actually doing, you were just doing things because they were just acts that people do in the path of life. Going to university, trying to get a degree, to get a good job, then live a good life, however, there wasn’t much motivation behind these acts, you felt like a lost soul. The only thing that made you feel alive, the thing that ignited a passion inside you was the doing of creating art, though due to uni, you weren’t able to indulge in it anymore. Until one evening, when you go to a live painting class, where you meet him, not knowing that he was an up and coming, anonymous painter, and you were about to become his muse.

A story where two artists, in their own perspectives, fall in love, in a type of love that felt as if their hearts were tied together, by a red lace fabric.

Paring: painter!jk x reader

Content: established relationship, romance, fluff, smut, angst, 4 year age gap, strangers to friends to lovers, he’s low key kind of obsessed with her.

Warning: this series contains mature content, 18+

A/n: Red Lace was originally meant to be a one-shot, and the first chapter is that and can be read as a stand alone. However, I really liked the relationship I established of the characters in it, wanting to Develop it further and explore their story, I created this series. This likely will be on the shorter side, and will contain sequences from their present and past

Let me know if anyone wants to be in the tag list for this series!

Tag list: @khadeeeeej , @tinnakitten , @joonsproperty , @parkinglot-nights , @lllucere , @bangtans-momma , @sexytholland

Chapters:

1. A blissful day

2. The untying of the red fabric

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auteurdelabre · 6 months

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STORY MASTERLISTS

WELCOME TO P-STAR VHS RENTALS

A place to find whatever suits your tastes. Perhaps you're in the mood for a little romance with Dieter Bravo? Or maybe you're looking for an erotic thriller with Dave York? Alternatively you might be drawn to a deliciously dark drama starring Joel Miller? Whatever your tastes, we have it here.

Just make sure you have your membership card ready.

RENT HERE

lovely dividers by @saradika-graphics

BRAVO! TAKE A BOW Series - ONGOING

Summary: As a struggling actress you’re amazed when you land a role in an indie film you’re dying to be a part of. What you’re not expecting is to develop feelings for your mega famous and often exasperating co-star Dieter Bravo rated 18+

1- Audition

2- Chemistry Read

3- Table Read

4- Rehearsals

5- Lights, Camera, Action!

Someone to pass the time with -(ONGOING)

rated: 18+

Feeling guilty about so often being out of town on business you encourage your loving boyfriend to find someone to pass the time with. When he does, you're not expecting for things to get so out of hand. Pairings: Reader x Javi G x Dave York

Part 1 - It's a He

Part 2 -For you, Javi

Part 3 - Meeting Dave

Losing our Minds Together - ONGOING

For readers 18+ only please!

summary:

As an artist by trade it's only natural that you'd agree to give your young neighbor Ellie drawing lessons. You just weren't counting on her stoic father Joel Miller getting under your skin... or becoming your muse. [AU LOU universe with no outbreak. A slow burn slice of life love story with smut, romance and more.]

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

SLEEP (COMPLETE)

When you meet Joel Miller beside his blue truck one hot, sweltering day you're not expecting a bloody adventure to await you.

Part 1 / Part 2

COALS IN WINTER (rated G)

How I imagine Joel Miller falls in love

CURLS OF SMOKE (rated G)

How I imagine Javier Peña falls in love

A Secret Kind of Pain [Frankie Morales x f!reader] (rated 18+)

Poker night over at Benny’s tests the amazing burgeoning relationship you have been hiding with Frankie Morales.

Joel's Eyes (rated 18+)

based on the prompt by ashleyfilm: I don’t know if you take requests but I love your writing and I’m dying for a slow burn in post outbreak Jackson. Joel and fem reader strangers to friends to eventual lovers. Reader is in love with Joel from the beginning and is like him strong silent type but with a heart of gold. Lots of pinning and then a surprise when it turns out Joel pines for her too and Tommy and Ellie know that he loves her. Maybe some jealousy thrown in before soft dom Joel to sub reader smut. Then a snippet of them together after confession of love so you can hear what other towns folk think about them. Anyway, if you don’t take asks that’s totally cool and I look forward to reading whatever you write! :)

PALPATION (rated 18+)

Say, Thank You. [Dave York x F!Reader] (Rated 18+)

After driving you home from babysitting his kids, Dave York has a proposition for you that you just can’t refuse.

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littleseasiren · 8 months

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Hypothetically speaking

Summary: Hypothetically speaking, Bucky Barnes is the perfect man. You have a list that proves it. What happens when someone overhears you telling Natasha about it?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Warnings: None, just fluff

Words: A drabble at 800 words

"All I'm saying is, hypothetically, Bucky is the perfect boyfriend," you whisper to Natasha over the kitchen table.

"And why do you think that?" Her green eyes stare past you, making you nervous for a second before her gaze meets yours. "Hypothetically speaking, of course." Natasha knew how you felt about Bucky but humoured you nonetheless.

You don't hear anything so you continue, "Well, I mean, he's the full package. Just look at what he's like," you chuckle. You lift your thumb as you start counting the points. "He's handsome with his dark hair and his eyes to die for." Your index finger goes up, "He's quiet but authoritative, like the time he saw a guy bothering me at the bar. He didn't hesitate before threatening him with bodily harm if he didn't stop bothering not just me - but all the ladies in the bar." Your middle finger rises, "He's got muscles galore like we've seen when he and Steve burn off extra energy in the gym and take their shirts off." Your ring finger raises, "And he's kind - too kind sometimes. Remember I told you about that time we were stuck in the rain in the middle of nowhere on a mission? He gave me his jacket and stood freezing in the pouring rain for more than an hour while we waited for our pickup." Finally, your pinkie raises, "Then there's the vibranium arm," you say as you drop your hand, your eyes sparkling with excitement.

Natasha smirks at the look that crosses your face when you talk about Bucky's prosthetic arm. "What about his arm? Most people would think it's a bad thing."

"Huh, as if! If they think that, then they're stupid. His arm is amazing. The black and gold design makes him look like a masterpiece painting. If I were an artist, I could spend hours watching him, getting every shadow and groove perfectly immortalized on the canvas." You giggle softly before continuing, "He's super strong - even stronger than Steve is, with that arm. He has amazing coordination and precision, and the temperature difference between his human hand and his vibranium hand is awesome. On a hot day, you can hold his left hand without sweating like crazy, and on a cold day, his right hand will be nice and toasty. But the biggest thing?" You take a deep breath, "His arm is vibranium, so I'm 100% sure his arm won't fall asleep like a normal man's when spooning with him in bed. A woman can lie on that arm for hours - I'm sure Bucky won't move an inch. That's the type of man he is..." A dreamy look passes over your face as you imagine yourself in that situation.

A perfect eyebrow raises in question, "Honey, why don't you just tell him you like him?"

"What? No, I don't! I was speaking hypothetically!" You aren't like Natasha, you can't just walk up to Bucky and confidently tell him you like him. Just thinking about it makes you anxious.

Natasha's smile is huge as a shadow hovers over you, making you feel like your heart is beating out of your chest.

Please, please don't let someone be behind me.

"Hypothetically speaking," a deep, confident voice starts behind you, making you drop your head into your hands, "if I do my best to live up to your expectations, would you go out with me tonight?"

You slowly raise your head, seeing Natasha leave the kitchen quietly and Bucky take her spot opposite you.

Why can't I keep my big mouth shut?

You can't meet his eyes, your cheeks burning with humiliation as your eyes focus on your wiggling hands. "Uh, Bucky, how much did you hear?"

This time, Bucky's voice is softer, unsure. "Pretty much everything. I know I shouldn't have listened; I couldn't help myself. Not when I heard your hypothetical. How about it, doll? Do you want to go out with me on a date?"

"Bucky, you don't have to do that just because I embarrassed myself. You don't want to go out with me."

You slowly meet his blue eyes, a smirk plastered on his handsome face. "Of course, I want to, doll. I honestly just never thought you would want to go out with me. You're so sweet and beautiful. I just never thought someone like you would be interested in me. Not with all my baggage." His gaze becomes nervous at your hesitation. "If you give me a chance, I promise I'll do my best not to disappoint you."

Can he be any sweeter? "You could never disappoint me, Bucky. You're amazing."

His face lights up at your honest reply. "So, how about it, doll? Let me take you out on a date. If you play your cards right, I'll let you test your theory on my arm tonight. I promise I won't move an inch if I get to hold you all night long. I won't even cop a feel tonight; I'll be a perfect gentleman, I promise."

You can't stop from giggling, feeling mischievous. You weren't making stupid promises like that, something he might figure out soon if all goes well. "It's a deal, Sarge," you reply as you grasp his hands, shivering from the hot and cold sensation.

This is going to be fun.

Tag List:

@cjand10

@buggy14

@crazyunsexycool

@tripleoyaa

@mandijo17

@fluffysucker

@moviegurl2002

@shelbygeek

#bucky x y/n #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky barns x reader #bucky fluff #the avengers #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #natasha romanoff #avengers tower #james barnes #bucky x reader #bucky imagine

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goldsbitch · 29 days

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Past lives

Charles Leclerc is opening an ice-cream shop...And nobody knows why.

romantic, soulmate au, one shot, short

"Past lives couldn't ever hold me down Lost love is sweeter when it's finally found I've got the strangest feeling This isn't our first time around" - Past Lives, Børns

It's the little things that resonate for no apparent reason.

The fact he would always lean towards a perfume with bergamot undertones - because in his past life, the love of his love was obsessed with bergamot tea.

The fact she would have the windows open at any possible occasion - because in her past, she and the love of her life lived in a small house at the top of a windy hill.

The fact he hated alcohol, because in one their lifetimes, the love of his life drowned her sorrows a little too often and lost herself in it.

The fact she could not watch war time movies, because in one of their past lives he died tragically, and a little too early for them to build a proper life together.

They did not get to meet in each life. But when they did, it was one for the history books. Not the ones about grandiose, history changing events, but the little sweet ones, usually to be found at the back of the antique bookstores. The mundane miracles that are hard to describe to the unlucky ones, who do not get to experience them. Some of them end up with a happy end, some of them with the biggest life lessons human soul can swallow.

It's the strange feeling of "I belong here" or "I think this will taste good". Why? Because you had seen it in the past, because you had been there in a different life time.

Fate plays a funny little game. Has one and their soulmate born just in time for them to be able to find each other, but likes to put obstacles in between. Distance, social barriers, conflicting dreams.

This kind of love leaves traces around the history. Songs, poems, buildings and initials carved into stones and benches. Wedding rings passed on in families and eventually sold once everyone has forgotten. Portraits of unknown faces and photos found at the bottom of old wardrobes. The ancient piping in an old house that still works because he built it for her to live in.

The soul keeps a memory, unreachable to the simple mind of the body, as it travelled from one lifetime to another.

That's how she found herself staring at a random, actually not that important, painting hung in a gallery exhibition dedicated to landscapes from the romantic era. She wasn't exactly a galleries type of person, but a girls trip to Paris had to include something more than parties and shopping. She stood there for good five minutes, totally mesmerised by a painting that did not particularly stood out from the rest. Little did she know that the silhouette standing in the field was one of her past self and that the painting had been done by her soulmate in one of their luckier past lives. It was like she could smell the summer weeds growing, hear the ground under her feet and understood what the author wanted to capture. And he was successful enough to capture the attention of his love throughout centuries once again. As her friends dragged her away to end their artsy part of their trip, she made sure to mark the name of the artist.

For some inexplicable reason, Charles Leclerc, in this life a racing driver, was opening an ice cream shop in in Milan. It probably would have made more sense to everyone, himself included, if he'd known that in one of their luckier past lives, he and his soulmate met in a small café in that city, few decades before that. He would come in one day, order an ice-cream and then did not stop coming until he managed to charm her.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #soulmate au #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc x female reader #ferrari f1 #f1 fic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc imagine #chalres leclerc fluff #f1 fluff #f1 angst #charles leclerc soulmate au

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harmoonix · 9 months

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🌃⚡Stormy Astrology Notes⚡🌃

⚡ - Moon aspecting Mars can end up with anger issues, is because sometimes they know how to control their emotions and sometimes they don't

⚡ - Mercury in Sagittarius/Gemini might have a different way of expressing their words and the way they communicate might be also different than others

⚡ - Neptune aspecting Moon gives beautiful eyes and face features, definitely i think of angelic placements

⚡ - Natives with heavy Aquarius or 11th house placements are THE BIGGEST defenders of their friends, they won't let you to talk bad about their friends

⚡ - Heavy Taurus or Cancer placements can possess cooking talents or they just may like to cook and try different types of food

⚡ - Moon prominent in a chart makes the native sensbile, spiritual and magic, they have a mix of everything honestly because of their imense intuition and power

⚡ - Asteroid Devine (3561) in the 7th house can have a blessed relationship and the type of "I wish to have this type of relationship just like they have"

⚡ - Asteroid Pandora (55) aspecting Ascendant can be seen as someone who is always curious and looking for things to do, their curiosity might be too much sometimes

My reaction: 😍😍

⚡ - Mercury aspecting Moon or Venus are AMAZING artistically people, they are extremely talented in arts, acting, music painting etc..

⚡ - Lilith in Virgo/6H house is not an easy placements but is definitely not for the weak because Virgo who is the (Virgin) meets Lilith who is like the baddie who does naughty things and in this placement Lilith can embody both dark and light energy

⚡ - Lilith in Gemini/3rd house have kinks to love and hear their partners moaning or calling their names during breaking bed time, they love this

⚡ - Lilith in Cancer/4th house might be obsessed with their partners chest, or muscles they just habe this secret addiction to chest and muscles

⚡ - Aries Mars/Scorpio Mars and Sagittarius Mars are no joke when it comes to breaking bed time, they are REALLY into it without stopping...all day all night 🌃

⚡ - An UNDERATTED thing about Lilith - Sun aspects is that they love the dark aesthetic, dark movies, dark books, dark clothes everything basically who has this Darcie/Villain type of energy

⚡ - Asteroid Lilith (1181) aspecting Ascendant can't help it to make other people fall over them, they are always in someone's eyes and in someone's else heart

⚡ - Gemini in the 5th house/Gemini Venus may have multiple crushes or can end up as a love triangle between them..Yes I know this is not K-drama material but can feel like it

⚡ - You tell me you have Aquarius Venus or Aquarius Juno and your friends didn't fall for you?That's an rare event because people with these placements often end up with their friends falling for them or vice versa

⚡ - Hekate (100) - aspecting Ascendant is extremely spiritual gifted, and also embodying Hekate's energy, i love people with such placements..it always makes me think to Hekate putting them in the right path

⚡ - Hekate (100) aspecting Moon could have been a witch or having some business with sorcery in a past life because moon can repsent past life topics

⚡ - Having 11°, 23° degrees in your (Sun, Moon, Rising) can show gaming addiction, they might have a passion for gaming or playing games in general

⚡ - Having 4°, 16°, 28° degrees in your (Sun, Moon or Rising) can show an aesthetic related to sky/stars/celestials/ and even astrology they can love astronomy and study it

⚡ - Having 6°, 18° degrees in your (Sun, Moon or Rising) shows that you prioritize your health a lot, you like to keep yourself healthy and in good form and always trying to keep an balance

⚡ - Virgos and their obsession with cleaning is something else, if they find even a little crumb on the floor, they would clean it until their floor shines

⚡ - Libra/Taurus in Sun. Moon, Rising is the IT placement for being the "lover girl" kind of thing. Love is their thing since they are the being kids of Venus

⚡ - Nothing is as juicy as someone with Capricorn and Scorpio placements in their chart, they are the juiciest people you will ever met

⚡ - Psyche (16) - or Vesta (4) in water signs... How does it feel be a starchild?? Is honestly intense and beautiful, they were always giving this type of "I'm not from this world im just visiting"

⚡ - Neptune can repsent addiction aswell so people with a heavy Neptune in their chart may have different addictions to different things

⚡ - Pluto aspecting Mars placements are on the list of being the naughtiest people...Life can always get crazy if you have these aspects in your chart

⚡ - Air Placements really love the cloudy weather...well it kinda makes sense because they are represented by the air element but I mean the vibe this cloudy weather brings them

⚡ - Having 5°, 17°, or 29° degrees in your Sun, Moon or Rising gives that type of person who is always in the spotlight, they receive a good amount of attention and it can be anytime of it. Like people staring at you because they are curious or interested in you

⚡ - Not me discovering at 3 A.M that having Chiron in the 2nd, 4th, 8th and 12th houses just means you inherited pain 😭 like you have to carry some pain but that is coming from other people not you #staystrong

⚡ - Moon in Sagittarius/9th house can be really outgoing if you give them that chance, like you can see them dancing in the middle of the floor on some Nicki Minaj songs and you'd be still wondering if they are drunk on is just their personality (Applies if you have Moon in Sagittarius Degrees 9°. 21°)

⚡- Having 2°, 14°, 26° degrees in your Sun, Moon or Rising makes you so charming and lovely, this is truly someone who is beautiful inside and out and shares a good energy to people

⚡ - Girlie be having Pluto/Saturn in the 11th house and has either that type of friends who betray them either their friends become a lesson for them 😭

My reaction:

⚡ - Saturn in the 6th house/12th house natives be getting tried so fast, is like the energy goes out of them in the moment they wake up 😭😭

⚡ - People with the sister signs in their chart and either get along or hate eachother forever, for example: 2 Cancer Risings can like eachother and it can happen for 2 Virgo Risings to hate eachother

⚡ - Is very important for natives with Neptune in the 1st house or Neptune aspecting ascendant to be around good and positive people, because if they are around bad people these natives can get really easy influenced by others so please take care of your surroundings

⚡ - "I think I'll miss you forever" gives Pluto - Venus aspects and it's so true because those natives love the deepest

⚡ - Storms are magnificent and dangerous in the same time, especially seeing it at night, it's wonderful how mother nature wants to show the world how amazing she is ⚡

⚡- Hope you enjoyed the post, may your day be with a good vibe and light energy 🌃

H a r m ⚡ o o n i x

Harmoonix2023®

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bizbat · 3 months

Note

your jason todd hcs are sooooo good omg!!! do you have any hcs specifically for when he has a crush on the reader, like how he might act, specifically if the reader is oblivious and really doesn’t think that she’s his type / thinks he’s joking if he says anything flirty?

When They're In Love - Jason Todd (Crush Edition)

🕸️Spiderverse Masterlist🕸️

🐼JJK Masterlist🐼

~ Fem terms + Pet names used for reader.

~ You can find part one of these hcs here, and part two here.

~ You can find more of my works here.

~ These can be read as a sort of part three/prequel kinda.

~Fic at the end.

~ Tw for : Blood, Knives, Needles, Vomit. (All slight)

~Thank you for asking! Hope you enjoy, sorry this took so long :(

You would never know that Jason has a crush on you.

For the most part, he wont talk to you any differently than he will anyone else.

Maybe he won't jokingly insult you, or be super sarcastic around you, but I think that's kind of as far as he'd go.

Unless you're a close friend or family member, you'd probably have no clue he had a crush based on the way he talks to you.

But the little actions and things he does for you are so obvious.

He's the type to hold open doors for you, all the while staring other people dead in the eye as it shuts in their face.

He somehow always just "randomly" has your favorite snack on hand, or a whole collection of books by your favorite author.

I think he'd be touchy, unless he knows you don't like being touched.

If you like or don't mind it, he'd have his arm constantly thrown over your shoulder, always be leaning against you, always resting a hand on your hip.

If you're shorter than him, he does that super annoying thing where he rests his elbow on your head.

He is so lame omg.

But bc he's kinda like this with everyone, no one would fault you for not understanding his hints.

He's like the opposite though.

You said hi to him this morning? You must be in love with him.

You smiled at him today instead of Dick? He's already planning the wedding.

What's that? You said he smells nice? Have his babies. (If you can/want to)

Our delusional king.

He doesn't think you don't get his flirting.

He'd think you're fully aware and are flirting back.

Again, our delusional king.

You probably won't get it until something really serious happens and he comes to you instead of Bruce or Roy.

He'd probably try to get into things you're interested in.

Listens to all your favorite songs, reads your favorite books, etc.

And he's not subtle about it bc he is in fact, a loser.

He'll recommend a song by your favorite artist and then be like "idk why but this just reminded me of you lol"

LOSER. Can you guys tell i'm a big believer in the "jason todd is secretly a massive loser" agenda? Cuz I am. :|

And then he listens when you go on rambles about how great the things you like are and how much they mean to you.

I said he'll do things just to hear you talk about them, and I think he'd do that when he has a crush on you too.

He just loves your voice and likes hearing you talk.

He smiles at you so softly when he thinks you aren't looking.

You could be bumming out and he'll look at you with heart eyes like yeah, future spouse right there.

I don't think he'd be a big user of social media, but if you were, he'd get a whole account just to like and comment of your pictures.

user94820860038466 commented: You look very pretty in this picture.

Comments like an old man bc he has very little understanding of the internet.

He'd probably help you take pictures and fight with other people in your comment section if they're too down bad or creepy.

He doesn't strike me as the jealous type bc once again, he's so delusional he pretty much already thinks you're dating.

Nicknames nicknames nicknames.

Calls you so, so many nicknames.

Angel, doll, sweetheart, maybe even babe.

He constantly talks about you when you aren't there.

Lian and Roy know so much about you before they even meet you.

He'd do anything for you.

The store is actually about a mile in the other direction, but yeah he can get you your favorite drink.

He does not like that food at all and the owner of the store despises him, but he will not return to you empty handed best believe.

He was actually going to wear that hoodie today, but it looks so much better on you you should keep it!

~ Drabble Starts Here. ~

It's just like every other night in Gotham City. It's cold, and wet, and it smells like smoke and garbage that's been left out in the sun.

The only barrier between you and the chilled, musty air outside is a single sheet of glass; the fire escape window of your fifth floor apartment. It's comforting. The glass is, of course, bulletproof, and the seal around the sill is tight, so no gases ever manage seep in. It pays to have a decent landlord, especially in Gotham.

It's funny, but you really never think about that window. You mostly keep it shut and locked, except in the summer, when you can smell your neighbor in the building next door cooking all types of delicious aromatic dishes, or when it's just too hot and you decide the risk of heatstroke is greater than the risk of airborne psychosis. It never occurs to you just how well it keeps you safe, just how well it keeps things out.

It occurs to Jason, though. In fact, it's the only thing on his mind as he's gripping his side, frantically trying to prevent too much blood from seeping out of his body.

He'll probably chastise himself later for not being more gentle or respectful, but he's lost too much blood to be thinking straight. With his free hand, he bangs on your window, praying that you're A) at home, and B) not listening to music. He's not too worried about the first one, he knows you never leave your lights on when you're away, but the second one, he's not too sure about.

He bangs, and bangs, and bangs on the glass, a loud, thunk thunk thunk thunk thunk that immediately rouses your from your sleep. You jump up from your spot on the couch, an open book falling from your lap as you dart into your room to grab the knife Jay gave you for protection, before returning to your living room, keeping your back to the wall.

You hold the blade in front of you, nervously gripping the hilt as you listen to the banging, making sure to stay just out of sight as you cautiously creep closer and closer to the noise. It isn't until the banging dies down that you finally get close enough to see the cause.

You gasp at the sight, dropping the knife and trying to tug the window open, before mentally yelling at yourself to unlock it. You drag the weakened behemoth of a man into your apartment, carefully placing his upper body on the floor in front of your window and removing his helmet. Your hand moves to his side, firmly pressing down on his wound, as you stare at him, mouth agape and eyes flooding with concern.

He laughs, a dry chuckle that just sounds like it hurts. "What took ya' doll?" You wanna smack him, but you can do that when he's not bleeding all over your hardwood floors. You tell him to wait, as if he could go anywhere in the state he's in, before rushing to grab the emergency kit he forced you to keep.

"Let-ngh- let me do it." He groans as he attempts to sit up, trying and failing to pull the tweezers from your hand. He doesn't even have the strength to sit back up when you gently push him back down. You clean his wound, all while he holds back winces and groans. You don't hold back, focusing on cutting and cleaning and stitching and wrapping, berating Jason for coming to you of all people.

"What d'ya mean? Of course I'd come to you?" Jason manages between harsh breaths. "Who else would I go to?" He seems genuinely confused, you're his girlfriend, you always come to him when you need help. Why wouldn't he come to you?

"Oh, I don't know, Jason, maybe Bruce, or Roy, or literally anyone else with training to handle this kind of thing!?" It comes out mean, but through his pain he can tell it's coming from a place of true care. You're worried. One of the strongest, most skilled people you know is bleeding out on your floor and you're panicking. Of course you are, you've never had to sew someone up, or dig a bullet out of someone, or try to hold down bile from the heavy smell of blood.

Your hands are shaking like crazy. This isn't a slight graze you can put a bandaid over and seal with a kiss, this is a life threatening wound on someone you care about, and all they've been doing since they came to you is make stupid fucking jokes and try to take things from your hands.

Jason can tell it's getting to you.

It should be the other way around, what with him bleeding out in your living room, but he quiets down, gripping your wrist with his non-blood covered hand. "Hey," He gently strokes your skin with his thumb, repeating himself when you don't move your eyes from his wound. "Hey, look at me Y/n." It's just stern enough to make you obey, without sounding like he's mad at you. "It'll be okay. I'm in good hands." Jason smiles at you, tired and reassuring. It calms your nerves just enough for you to finish sewing his wound shut.

You sit back when you're done, taking in your work once you wrap his stomach with gauze. Jason turns just enough to catch a glimpse, smiling up at you with his stupid, charming smirk. "Not bad, doll. Told ya you had it covered." He lays back, smiling up at you as he lays his head on his arm, the one on his non-injured side. Though he doesn't seem to bothered by the end of it all, you can't say the same.

He takes in your features, your tired, glossy eyes and your pouting lips. It makes his smile drop. You look away, your sad eyes not meeting his own. "I . . . what? What's wrong Y/n?" Jason winces, moving to rest on his elbows to get a better look at your face. "Was it the blood? Or the- was it the window? I'm sorry about that, by the way." You shake your head no at all of his suggestions, taking a breath before turning back to face him.

He can feel his heart hurt at the sight of unshed tears in your eyes. "I . . . I was scared Jay." He pushes himself all the way up when you take your lip into your mouth. He ignores the pain shooting through his side when he pulls you into his arms. "Hey, hey, hey, scared of what? I'm okay. You did good." Those tears finally spill when your arms wrap around his waist, loose as to not further irritate his wound.

"You could've died Jay, a-and I wouldn't be able to-to help you! I can't help you!" You sob into his shoulder. He holds you tightly, pressing his lips to your head as he rubs your back. "Please, please don't cry. I'm okay now, you helped me. I'm all better now." He rocks you both gently, trying to console you. "Sides, if I was gonna die, I'd be happy if it was with my girl."

What?

You freeze in his arms, and he knows he said something wrong. He just doesn't know what. His brain moves a mile a minute as he tries to figure out what it was before you get even more upset. Though, his brain completely shuts down when you stare up at him with those cute, confused eyes. The tears have slowed down, and he's at least thankful for that. "Your . . . girl?" Now he's confused too. "What-what do you mean by that?"

He has to do a double take. "What do you mean? You're my girl, like . . . girlfriend, you know?" Every second that passes only confuses the two of you more. "I'm your girlfriend?" "Ar-aren't you?" You blink at him. Were you? Are you? "Am I?" Somewhere there was cognitive dissonance, Jason just doesn't know for who. "Yeah, we're dating, I thought?" Though, he doesn't feel so confident about that now.

"Oh," You feel your ears grow warm, for the second time now your eyes don't meet his own. "I . . . I didn't know that." You wish you could hide right now, but he's still got his arms wrapped around you. "I mean, unless you don't want to, then-then I'm sorry-" Jason feels maybe even more embarrassed than you as he finally drops his arms, grabbing his helmet and moving to crawl back out the window he came in through. His bullet wound is completely forgotten by now.

He stops when you grip his jacket, shyly staring at the floor as you speak. "No! I w-want to." Your eyes darty up to his, before losing confidence and dropping back to the floor. "I want to be your girlfriend," It comes out a whisper, and when he's silent for a beat too long you worry he's suddenly changed his mind.

"Good. Great. Yeah." He drops back to the floor, sitting cross legged beside you. Internally, he's doing backflips in his mind. "Cool." Later on, he'll ask more questions, but for now, he's satisfied. "Yeah." You shyly play with your clothes, twiddling your thumbs as you sit in silence. You feel like a little girl who just admitted to her crush that she likes him. "Are you-" "I didn't-" You interrupt each other, both of you gesturing for the other to continue. It's a bit of a fight, but Jason makes you go first.

"I was gonna ask if you were hungry. I have some, um, pretzels and stuff. If you want." Jason nods. He follows you into your kitchen, where the two of you quietly and contently eat the iron rich foods you looked up. "What were you going to say, by the way?"

Jason looks up from his plate, the haphazardly prepared meal helping him feel better, though his heart feels pretty good right now anyways. "I didn't know that you didn't know. I thought," he laughs nervously. "I thought, we were dating this whole time." He laughs again when you shake your head. "I didn't know! I thought . . . I don't know, that I wasn't your type, or something."

That's probably the most surprising thing he's heard you say today. Okay it's not, but it's the thing that most catches him off guard.

"Of course you are! You're so sweet, and cute, and nice, and pretty, and you smell really good, and you're funny, and I like your voice, and the way you d-do things . . . and . . . other stuff." Jason stops himself before he can ramble for hours about every single things he loves about you. You wouldn't mind if he did, though. You hide your pleased expression with your hand.

"Me too." It's quiet, but no longer shy. "I like all that "stuff" about you too."

#bizbat #dc #jason todd x reader #jason todd headcanons #dc headcanon #red hood x reader #red hood #jason todd #dc x reader #lian harper #roy harper

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lovelytsunoda · 6 months

Text

954 // logan sargeant

summary: florida man fucks shy college girl. or, back home in fort lauderdale y/n’s welcome home party is sabotaged by her race winner brother, and it gives her a bit of a complex. at least her brothers best friend is there to make her feel better about it.

pairing: logan sargeant x female kirkwood! reader

warnings: straight up smut, kyle kirkwood is a lot to handle in large doses (but we love him anyways), feelings of anxiety, minor sibling rivalry, body image issues. i am going to hell, littered with spelling mistakes because of how fast I was typing and pure laziness to go back and fix it

author's note: 954 is the area code for fort lauderdale. and technically kyle kirkwood lives in jupiter, but for the sake of the story let's pretend he's also from lauderdale.

she sat at the edge of the pier, jeans rolled up past her shins as she started off into the horizon, watching the sun dip below the ocean line.

“it’s your party, what are you doing out here alone?”

she rolled her eyes, pulling her feet out of the water before following the voice. “why do you think? kyle hijacked it. I’m back home for less than a day and he’s already stealing the spotlight again.”

that was the way it always went in the kirkwood household: y/n came home from school, and everything was great, and then kyle waltzes in and suddenly everything is about him again.

logan shook his head, settling onto the pier next to her, a gentle hand resting on her thigh. she shrugged it off, anxiously twisting one of the rings on her hand.

“you know he doesn’t do it on purpose, right?” logan soothed “he loves you, and he hates that you feel like this.”

“i know. the inferiority complex is all me.”

“it’s not a complex, and your feelings are valid.”

she shook her head. “everyone tells me i shouldn’t have quit karting. even when it made me hate myself.”

she sighed, laying down on the pier, worn wood scratching at her skin, but not splintering against her baby pink tank top. “what am I doing with my life, logan?”

“hey, look at me.” logan encouraged, fingertips against her chin to angle her face towards him. “you are doing great things. deans list every semester, you’re a great artist and I’d be shocked if firms weren’t lining up to hire you as a litigator.”

“you’re just saying that.” she refused to meet his eyes. logan was kyles best friend, for god sakes. she’d crumble under his stare, his touch.

“but I’m not.” logan insisted, gripping her face now, making her look at him. she needed to know how wonderful she was, and he was going to be the one to tel her. “you are smart and funny and all kinds of wonderful, kirkwood. any guy would be lucky to have you, and anyone else should consider themselves blessed to have you as a friend.”

“you really mean that?”

“why would I lie to you, y/n?”

she barely had time to respond before logans lips were on hers. she was hesitant at first, unsure if logan really knew what he was doing. unsure if he was really kissing her because he wanted to or because he pitied her.

the intrusive thoughts didn’t stay long, however, as she snapped to attention and moved her lips against his, wrapping her body around his.

“jesus.” logan breathed. “those jeans make your ass look incredible. well, your ass always looks incredible, but these jeans are really doing it for me.”

she laughed at how red logan's face was, a shade that looked more salmon under the sunset. the pier was digging into her skin, and she was starting to get uncomfortable, logan's lips along her neck not quite enough to distract from the discomfort of what she was sure would become a splinter if their activities were not relocated.

somehow they made it to her bedroom without being discovered by the partygoers, much less kyle. the fairy lights tacked to her dusty pink walls were the only light in the room as logan backed her up against her bookshelf, securely caging her body against his.

she felt safe in logan's arms. protected.

"i've been crazy about you for years now." logan growled in between kisses. "every night i came over to watch panthers games with your brother, and you were there in those tight little jean shorts, laughing and giggling with your friends. or when i'd stay the night and you'd walk past his bedroom door to get to the bathroom in the middle of the night, your skimpy silk top falling down your shoulder just enough to give me a taste of your gorgeous body. do you know how many times i've jerked off to the thought of you in kyle's bathroom? you're stunning, y/n. don't let anybody tell you otherwise."

her mind was reeling, and she couldn't find the proper words as she tugged at the collar of logan's button down shirt, pressing her lips back to his. logan sargeant was interested in her.

logan saw her for her, not just as kyle kirkwood's baby sister.

clothes were shed, buttons ripped off shirts. her head was spinning, elated and giddy and she couldn't find the words to tell logan how incredible she felt as his large hands squeezed her breasts over the mesh padding of her bralette.

she gasped, logan taking that chance to slip his tongue into her mouth, his fingers grappling for the clasp on her bra.

all at once, reality came crashing back down on her. she pulled away, hands flying up to cover her exposed breasts as the pale fabric tumbled to the hardwood floor.

she wouldn't meet logan's eyes, scared to know what he thought of her naked body. scared to see him stare at her and not know what he was thinking.

his eyes softened, the lust drawing back as concern seeped in to his irises. "y/n, pretty girl, you don't need to hide yourself around me. who made you think that you weren't sexy as all hell? i never want you feel like you have to be shy around me."

he gently gripped her arms, guiding her towards the wall length mirror hanging on the back of the ensuite door. logan stood behind her, lifting her chin so that she would meet his eyes in the mirror. placing his hands over hers, he gently pulled her palms off her breasts, exposing her bare torso to the soft lighting in the room.

"look at you beautiful you are, y/n. i'm serious."

"you're just saying that so you can get your dick wet." even as she said it, she knew it didn't sound like she meant it.

but even still, staring at herself in the mirror, all she could focus on was the way that she looked: the stretch marks on her breasts, the smattering of freckles up her arms (or were they moles, like the two on her back?).

"what will it take to show you how sexy you are, y/n?" logan rasped, undoing the button on her jeans. "should i make you watch yourself as i touch you?"

"yeah." her voice was shaky. "i think you should show me how sexy i am. clearly, i need reminding." where was this sudden boldness coming from?

"that;s my sexy, shy girl." logan cooed, tugging her jeans down her legs, kissing over her ass and down her leg before coming back up, eyes hungry at the sight of the young woman in front of him, panties hiked high on her hips and fairly see through as he slipped a hand over teh fabric and between her legs, teasing at the dampness beginning to form.

she gasped as logan slicked up his fingers, slipping them inside of her in one swift movement, working around the fabric of her cheeky panties. she was breathing hard, biting her bottom lip as she took in the sight in the mirror: logan's fingers flexing in and out of her, arousal running over his pale skin, his face contorted in concentration as he growled down her ear, telling her how tight she felt, and how good she was for him.

her own skin was rosy and flushed, a sheen of sweat beginning ro form as she felt her body heating up. there was something sinful about watching herself in the mirror, finally allowing herself to let loose a moan.

"that's my girl. don't get shy on me now, i want to know that you feel as good as i do." logan groaned, sucking on her neck. "touch me, baby. i know you want to. feel how fucking hard i am for you."

she loosened her grip on logan's wrist, internally grinning at the nail marks that she left behind in his skin before slipping an arm behind her, cupping his bulge in her hand.

she was floored. she knew logan was big (she could always see the outline in his swim shorts, forcing herself to stop staring before he noticed) but knowing that she had this effect on him?

it was a powerful thing.

"jesus, logan." she whined. "i need it inside of me."

logan's eyes sparkled. "what do you need inside of you, sweetheart? i need you to say it for me." he started pumping his fingers faster, his other hand moving to fondle her left breast, tweaking the rosy bud of her nipple between his fingers.

she sighed heavily, feeling her legs turn mushy as she leaned back against logan. "need your cock." she mumbled, unsure if she could speak any louder.

"what was that, darling? don't be shy now, i can't give you what you need if you don't tell me, love."

fuck you, she thought, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood. she was clenching around his fingers now, unsure of hoe much longer she'd be able to last. but she needed him inside of her, felt like she might die if he wasn't.

"your cock!" she shouted. "please, logan, i need your big cock inside me, please, god, i need it."

why did she say that? she should never have said that. it made her sound desperate. but in a way, she was desperate, wasn't she?

logans fingers stopped their ministrations, pulling out of her and taking a trail of her juices with them. she thought her eyes were going to roll back in her head before logan laid her down on her queen bed, her hair fanning out behind her as he started to undo his jeans, resort shirt still hanging off his frame, face flushed and covered in a sheen of sweat as he licked her arousal off his fingers.

"do you have condoms, kirkwood? because i really don't want to have to go digging for them in kyle's room."

"please don't talk about my brother when i want you to fuck my brains out."

logan smirked. "not so shy now, are we, my sexy girl."

"shut up! go the ensuite, top vanity drawer on the left. you literally cannot miss the box."

she could have laughed, lying back on the bed and kicking off her panties as logan ran, half naked and dropping his resort shirt behind him, to the ensuite.

he stumbled back, tripping over discarded clothes and the fluffy carpet, triumphantly holding the box above his head.

"the whole box? how much do you think you're getting tonight, sarge?"

logan raised an eyebrow. "call me that, and i'm going to make you forget how shy you are and have you scream my name all night long."

#logan sargeant x reader #formula one x reader #f1 smut #f1 x reader #logan sargeant #f1 imagine #logan sargeant smut

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mercurycft · 5 days

Text

𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 — 𝐊𝐌

## katie mccabe x reader !!

hi pookies!! once again i apologise for the lateness.. but i really hope you enjoy this.. my little tattoo-lover heart got a little carried away with this, but i love this concept so much and i hope you do too! its a little different than the original idea for the direction of this, but either way, i really enjoyed this!! happy reading! love always - RG! x

i would also like to say! this is inspired by a fic i saw on my feed about a tattoo artist x alexia (i think) and i loved it! if i find the account i will top the link to their fic here!

contains: tattoo artist reader! shameless flirting! angsty make up sex, cocky!katie, fight for dominance, oral - both receiving, rough grabbing, dirty talk, fingering, useless lesbians, top!katie and brat!reader, foul language.

r's masterlist - requests open!

4.6k words

CONTAINS ADULT LANGUAGE & CONTENT 18+

a knock at your door was a disruption to your night time routine - pyjamas already on, makeup off, hair tied back and your toothbrush hanging from your lips. you slipped on your slippers and headed down the stairs, still brushing your teeth when you pulled the door open to reveal a familiar face.

she was in a similar state. hair tied back messily, loungewear on and no makeup accept for her eyelash extensions. your eyes lifted from the floor to finally meet hers on the other side of the threshold

“katie..?”

“can i come in?”

3 months ago.

a notification past 7pm would usually be ignored.

and it was the first time, then the second, then the third. the fourth, however, was followed by a groan from your sprawled-out position on your sofa. although tempted to put your phone onto 'do not disturb' and continue the twilight marathon you started the previous night, you stretched across the empty space and patted around to locate your phone - simultaneously pausing the tv and shifting to sit with your back against the pillows for a change.

katie_mccabe11 liked your story.

katie_mccabe11 liked your post.

katie_mccabe11 started following you.

you have 1 new message.

"katie mccabe.." you whispered into the emptiness of your apartment, crossing your legs beneath you and clicking on the notification on your screen. "why do i know her.." you racked your brain, pursing your lips. you noted the football shirt in her profile picture alongside the blue verified tick beside her username and used your critical thinking skills to put two and two together, chuckling at the thought of your younger sister losing her mind at another footballer dming you.

you waited a few seconds before opening her message, reading it carefully and silently. "that's how i know her.." you replied to yourself, whilst alone.

last week you had beth mead in your seat at the shop, getting a small paw print behind her ear and chatting yours off in the process. you spoke about a lot of things, you're used to that though. sometimes people just need someone to talk to - and who better than their tattoo artist? you liked beth, she was lovely, easy to talk to. the kind of person you would be friends with. she wasn't with you for long, an hour tops and it flew by. at the end of the appointment you exchanged socials and she left with a 'i'll tell the girls about you!".

you didn't really watch football, but you knew enough - and you would be lying if the thought of your name being chucked around between a very attractive group of women didn't make your stomach twist.

you typed your reply to katie quickly. starting with your usual friendly opening, explaining your upcoming availability and then ending with a single kiss. you had no available appointment spaces for the next three weeks, but you hoped that beth really sold you and your passion enough that she would consider waiting. she read it almost immediately, making your eyes widen and quickly swipe away from the message in an effort to not seem like a total weirdo.

her reply flashed across the top of your screen a few seconds later.

'ill take it x'

—————————

appointment day.

it was appointment day and god were you a nervous wreck. you arrived at the shop an hour earlier than normal to open up and clean before she arrived - she was your first and only appointment of the day and you wanted to make a good first impression. you prepared what you would need, laying your tools out on the table beside you and making a coffee - which would no doubt be freezing cold by the time you actually got around to drinking it.

you connected your phone to the bluetooth speakers around the room and shuffled your playlist just as the doorbell rang from the front of the shop. 7:59. you didn't know much about katie, having restrained yourself from going full-on stalker mode over the last few weeks leading up to her appointment. but clearly she was punctual.

as you unlocked the door and smiled to her through the glass, you couldn't help but realise how strikingly attractive she was. her hair pulled into a tight and slick ponytail at the back of her head, a deep green tracksuit complimenting her tanned skin and bright eyes.

"good morning!" you greeted cheerfully, welcoming her in.

you watched as her eyes scanned around the room, studying the artwork on the walls before they landed back on you and a smile spread across her face to match yours.

"mornin' hope i've not been a fuss this early.." she joked as you embraced each other in one of those awkward-but-friendly-first-meeting hugs, causing you to laugh softly.

"oh it's no bother, serious." you waved her comment off, shutting the door behind you both and leading her over to your station at the back of the shop. you didn't expect her accent to be so thick, but the way her voice sat heavy in the space between you had you clenching your jaw.

the pair of you made small talk as she got situated and sat on the leather bed whilst you pulled up a stall and your phone to take another look at the pictures she had previously sent, grabbed a pen and then pulled a pad of paper onto your lap. laying the phone down so she could see as well.

you sat across from katie, discussing designs and what she would and wouldn't like. she was engrossed in the conversation, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm as you shared ideas and suggestions. you found yourself doodling on the paper, absentmindedly drawing whatever came to mind as she chatted about the specifics of what she wanted. every now and then, your eyes would meet hers, and a playful smile would tug at the corners of your lips.

there was silence between you for a few beats as your pen etched across the paper and completed the first sketch of the possible design. when you finished you looked up and turned the paper towards her before you could ask how she felt about it she spoke up.

"how do you do that?"

"do what?" you replied playfully with a smile.

"how can you just listen and draw? it's so cool.." she sounded genuinely bewildered for a moment and you couldn't help but laugh lowly.

"honestly, it just happens. when someone describes what they want i see it in my head and just let my pen translate it." you explained with a shrug, looking at her again.

"well its sick, i won't lie!"

"thank you.. i'm a woman of many, many talents.." it came out a lot more suggestive sounding than intended, mental cursing yourself and begging internally that she wouldn't see the pink tint you could feel spreading across your cheeks. you looked back down at the page before she could notice, avoiding her eyes.

"oh i bet." she added, smirking across from you.

you both sat like that for another ten minutes, brainstorming ideas and katie watching you bring them to life like a magician until you both finally settled on a design. you couldn’t believe how natural the interaction was coming and conversation flowing. you embraced the shared banter between you and leant into her jokes.

the design she had settled on was small and intricate but you knew you could free-hand it, so decided against using a stencil for the work. “right, i am gonna wash my hands and get everything sterilised, you get comfy and have a think about where you want it. okay?” you said as you stood up and ripped out the page you were using, placing it beside your other supplies so it was easy to use as a reference. katie replied with a small “sounds good to me,” and you heard her shuffle around the bed and as you made your way to the sink you could feel her eyes on you, following you away.

when you returned to her, she was sat more comfortably and had discarded her hoodie. the ribbed vest she was hiding left little to your imagination, revealing her arms and more of that heavenly tanned skin to your prying eyes. you tried not to look, but were made too aware of yourself failing miserably when she caught your gaze and you watched her suppress a chuckle.

once you were situated on the stool again, you took a deep breath and turned towards her. “so where are you thinking?” she sat silently in response, deep in thought.

“either here,” she pointed to the inside of her bicep to punctuate her point “or here..” she added quietly as her thumb hooked into the waistband of her joggers and shimmied them down a couple of inches until you could see the skin at the bottom of her stomach- in line with her hip. perhaps you looked for a second too long, or she heard you gulp, or maybe your fears were real and she could in fact hear your heart rattling against the boney cage of your ribs in your heaving chest - but the way you heard her exhale a humorous breath and tense her stomach muscles snapped you back into reality.

“which one would you prefer?” you questioned, professionally.

“probably my hip.” you nodded in agreement, smiling and internally celebrating at her decision. “and as a bonus i get to watch you gawk at me for however long it takes,” she teased, earning a small smack to the upper thigh and an eye roll.

“i was absolutely not gawking!” you defended with a smile.

“oh yeah, alright then..”

you rolled your eyes again and stood to grab a small bottle of sanitiser and a disposable razor, placing them on the table - once you made sure she was comfortable you sat down again.

“i’m going to pull your joggers down a couple inches, is that okay?” you waited for her reply before making any moves closer to her.

“of course,”

“perfect.”

you got straight to work, dragging them down until the area she had pointed out was revealed again - only this time you could see the band of her underwear peaking out from beneath the fabric and it had you drawing in a careful breath. you circled the skin with your pinky finger lightly and showed her the length and width the ink would cover, double checking that was exactly where she wanted.

the tattoo itself took no longer than forty minutes to complete. once you were finished you sanitised and made sure it was exactly how she wanted before moving to discard any disposables used. she took it like a champ the entire time, only slightly flinching when the needle grazed a particularly tender spot.

you spoke to her about the aftercare and how to take care of it whilst it healed, then covered it with second skin and soothed the area - moving to wash your hands and stand against the counter. “any questions?”

you sat speaking for another hour, and you were sure at times she was stalling so she wouldn’t need to leave.

“when do you finish?”

“whenever you want to go,”

“why didn’t you say! i don’t want to hold you up, love..” she tutted and began collecting her stuff. you laughed at her huffing like a child and led her towards the front desk.

the petname made your stomach jump, twisting and twitching in your abdomen as you studied her. the way she moved and smiled, how her eyes pierced through you like she was reading your mind - how you were so sure she actually could see and read the filth behind your own eyes.

at the front she paid and thanked you another couple hundred times as you let her out the door. she stepped over the threshold and gave you another small hug. “thank you again, i really love it.”

“stop thanking me! i’m just glad i could do your vision justice..” you smiled and shrugged, “you’re welcome anytime, just pop me a message!”

“that’s just because you want to look at my stomach again..” she called, walking to her car and waving.

“shut up.” you rolled your eyes, laughing. “don’t be a stranger!”

—————————

during the appointment you and katie exchanged numbers and for days, weeks, months you texted each other everyday. you met for coffee, went to watch her and the team (who you got along with swimmingly) practice, you even went to watch all of their matches.

you had been inseparable since that first meeting, you shared things about each other previously unknown by anyone, spent evenings and nights at each others homes and got aquatinted with family and friends.

after spending so long together, the pair of you had become incredibly close - often sharing a bed, and clothes. you couldn’t help but feel things for her, for katie. your stomach became a harvest ground for butterflies and your heart rattled with longing for her.

you came close to telling her, to explaining how you felt - until one day, it just stopped.

the meetings stopped,

then the match invites,

then the messages,

everything stopped.

—————————

present day - 2 months later.

over the last months without talking to katie, you threw yourself into work and university in an attempt to distract yourself. you felt like you were going through a break up - could you even call it that? could you categorise this into the break up section? a friend break up? whatever it was, it hurt, and you found yourself still thinking about her.

friday nights felt weird now. usually sat on the sofa with a takeaway, katie sat on the other side with her food in her lap - laughing at some stupid program she had put on. now it was empty in the apartment, and you sat on the sofa alone with a cup of tea watching telly until it was time to get ready for bed.

you showered, careful to avoid putting soap the area of your newest tattoo addition on your wrist - letting the warm water run over the skin. when you were done, you made sure to moisturise and then cover it up again before getting dressed into your pjs.

you brushed your hair, and then began brushing your teeth - staring at yourself in the mirror and studying the ink that now littered your arms and chest.

you were deep in though when a a knock at your door disrupted your night time routine - still brushing your teeth when you pulled the door open to reveal a familiar face. your eyes lifted from the floor to finally meet hers on the other side of the threshold.

“katie..?

“can i come in?”

“uh, yeah- yeah- sure,” you stammered and stepped back to open the door wider for her, stepping away into the kitchen area to spit the froth from your toothpaste into the sink and quickly rinse before running back to shut the door behind her.

it was awkward. she stood in front of you in silence for a few beats, looking down at the ground as if she was figuring out what to say. you stood a few steps away, leant on the wall beside you with your arms crossed across your chest.

"why are you-"

"look i dont know why-"

you both spoke over eachother, breaking the silence that sat heavy between the walls. you shared a smile, it was brief, but it was there as you met her blues and waved your hand - gesturing for her to continue.

"look, i don't know why i'm here. i just got in my car and then i was on the drive and i just needed to speak to you. i just wanted to see you-"

"oh god you never shut up mccabe.." you whispered with an eye roll as you advanced towards her.

one step. what if she doesn't want this?

two steps. what if i've read this all wrong?

three steps. jesus her perfume..

every step you took was narrated by that voice in your head, you know, that one that tells you to shut up in uncomfortable situations and the one that speaks to you when you watch something brilliantly but so stupidly funny. you couldn't stop to think out loud, you couldn't stop full stop. point blank. period.

your feet were moving faster than your thoughts, and your thoughts were moving faster than your logic until you were so close you could feel her soft breath caressing the skin of your face.

"tell me not to, and i won't." you said softly

"god, you've always been too sweet for me."

there was no time to register what she said, her lips were on yours. they were everything you had thought of, they were soft but she kissed you with urgency. breathing heavily as her hands raised to either side of your face, pulling you closer than physically possible. your lips moved together sweetly, full of love.

you stayed like that for a few minutes, soaking each other in until she pulled away. lips swollen, taking a deep breath. there were no words exchanged between you, only eye contact - the sound of breathing shared. then you crashed together again, lips connected for a second time in the space of five minutes.

this time however, was harsher, and fast-paced. she was in control, gagging for it. hands grabbing at whatever fabric they could find on the opposing body, a small moan falling from your lips when her hands squeezed the skin of your waist and her lips broke from yours momentarily to grunt out a "jump." to which you gladly obliged, legs wrapping around her waist and her hands finding the skin at the top of your thighs - she held you like nothing, with no struggle as she passed through the hall and up the four steps to your bedroom.

when she placed you back down onto your feet you were quick to tug your top up and over your head, discarding it on the floor. before you could continue she grabbed your hand, finger tracing gently over the still-fresh tattoo across your wrist.

"this is new," katie whispered.

"i had a lot of time on my hands." you replied at the same volume, shrugging. she chuckled lightly, reading the words now littering the skin. "and you were always saying i was sweet.."

"aye, and you're yet to prove me wrong."

"don't start something you can't finish, katie."

"oh i'm very, very good at finishing, actually."

"shut up."

this time you had her, hands on the back of her neck as you pulled her in. grabbing the fabric that sat at the nape of her neck and pulling it over her head, only breaking the kiss until your path was cleared again. you span around, walking backwards until the back of her knees hit the edge of the bed causing her to lay down. you wasted no time in straddling the top of her thighs, arms on either side of her head.

"behave." she muttered, hands gripping your thighs and switching your positions on the bed, now towering over you, arms replacing yours on the bed. mouth moving to your neck, nipping at the skin beneath your ear. "stop acting like you don't want me to have my way with you."

"stop acting like you've got it in you." you quipped back, smirking when her teeth grazed your earlobe roughly. her hand raising to grip your jaw and forcefully turn your head to face her.

"is that a challenge? hm?" it was rhetorical, her eyebrows raised and voice low.

"prove it."

she didn't need further pushing, lifting herself off the bed and taking a few steps back. you propped yourself up onto your elbows to watch, head tilted when she stared at you blankly. eyes flicking to your shorts before back up to your face.

"take em' off."

"you take them off."

"take. them. off. i won't be asking again."

you gave in with a huff, rolling your eyes and lifting your hips to peel your shorts off. biting down a smirk as you lifted your legs back onto the bed - revealing yourself to her.

"awfully cocky there, love."

"as if you don't love it."

"do you always have such a smart mouth?"

"i have a very lovely mouth."

"oh i bet."

she was on her knees then, face level with you. eyes locked on your gleaming pussy, fingers gliding through your folds and collecting your slick before bringing her digits to slip between her lips - tasting you. she laid her fingers back against you, prints flat against your clit, applying the perfect amount of pressure to make your head fall back on the bed behind you with a desperate moan.

she drew tight circles, watching you throb beneath her fingers. you moaned at the contact, your clit already sensitive. you didn't know how she managed it, but she had you falling apart from the pressure alone - and you could tell she loved every second of it with her lips drawn into a cocky smirk at the sight of your mouth falling agape when you began rutting up into hands as a plea for more.

“does that feel good darlin'?” she asked from between your thighs, her lips pressed against the soft skin of your leg, stopping their sloppy kisses for a second. you whimpered in response, nodding slowly. “use your words, love.”

“yes it feels good..” you whispered, licking your lips, your mouth increasingly dry.

“good girl..” she added, jaw clenched when she attached her lips to your thighs again. you savoured the feeling, the delicious feeling as she dragged her fingers roughly against you. the praise made your legs tense against her lips, sending a rush of pleasure down through the depths of your stomach.

“i want more. please.”

"hm? what was that?”

“i want your fingers..” you confessed, dragging your own teeth along the back of your hand which you were using to muffle the sultry sounds tumbling from your lips - biting down against the skin when you felt your face flush.

“please,” you begged, hips rising off the bed in a desperate act for more friction. she shut you down quickly, using her free hand to pin your hips back to the mattress.

“please what, darling..” she stalled, slowing down to an unbearable speed.

“i need you to fuck me,” your words made you squirm, eagerly waiting as you felt a single finger travel down and tease your hole before she pushed into you slowly. her own thighs clenching at the sound of you gasping as she added another finger, curling them methodically inside of you.

she stretched you out perfectly, her fingers moving at just the right speed to have you moaning with every thrust into you. her pace and pressure increased with the volume of your whimpers, back arched into her touch and face buried in your arms as her fingers pressed perfectly inside of you. she curled her fingers to press against your g-spot, mentally noting how perfect you sounded chanting her name. taking advantage of you being preoccupied by the pleasure, she moved to lay her tongue flat against your clit. fingers still moving inside you as she carefully flicked the bundle of nerves between her lips.

a moan rattled from the back of her throat as you coated her taste buds, the vibrations travelling straight to the fire now raging in the pit of your stomach and coursing through your legs - coaxing out a moan of your own.

she felt you tense and squeeze around her fingers, your clit throbbing against her mouth when she lifted her eyes to survey the scene above her. your eyes screwed shut and teeth gripping your bottom lip so tight it was sure to leave a mark. chest heaving and hands twisting in the sheets.

"you going to cum for me?"

“y-yes,” you stuttered, eyes rolling into the back of your head when her fingers curled a final time and she took your clit into her mouth with a pop.

“thats it. good girl.”

that was all it took for you, your orgasm crashing through your body and shaking through your limbs. legs shaking beside her head and cunt tensing around her fingers. back arched and screaming out her name.

katie let you ride it out, only stilling her fingers and withdrawing her tongue from you when your back finally laid against the bed again - catching your breath. she brought her fingers up to your mouth and slipped them past your lips for a second as she moved to straddle you, climbing up from the floor. her fingers dragged down the length of your chin and were replaced with her mouth, her tongue finding yours - allowing you to taste yourself from her mouth.

"wanna taste you," you managed to croak out through the kisses, gulping and lifting your hands to press against her chest. pushing her back and towards the pillows at the head of the bed until she was laid down. "my turn.." you whispered seductively in her ear, lips pursed and leaving small kisses in your path as you travelled down the length of her body.

her tracksuit bottoms were removed quickly and your fingers were hooked into the band of her underwear, pulling them down her tanned legs until they followed the rest of the clothes to reside on the floor. she was dripping, and the sight alone was enough to have you salivating below her.

the scrunchie in your hair had loosened after the previous events of the evening, and your hair was limp enough for her to slide her hand into the back of your locks. gripping tightly and pulling you closer to her pussy.

"go on, make me feel good."

you needed no further instruction, moving closer to her before she had even finished the sentence. you laid your tongue flat against her, lapping her up. she tasted almost as good as she looked. her eyes focused on you and her hand tight against your scalp, guiding you.

you couldn't look away, allowing her to take you as she wanted. moving your head against the rhythm of her hips - moaning your name when your eyes met hers innocently. her head fell against the headboard when you whimpered against her, her own noises mirroring yours as her legs started to close around your head.

"fuck, thats it. i'm gonna cum," she groaned, both hands on the back of your head as you drank her in. nodding eagerly between her thighs, silently begging for her to cum for you.

and she did. hard. crying your name out into the room around you, followed by a string of curses until she finally released your head from her hands and her legs laid limp beside her on the bed.

"jesus christ."

"nope, just me." you teased, now occupying the space beside her on the pillows. both of your bodies coated in a sheen layer of sweat and your eyes threatened to close with the sound of her steady breathing when her arms moved to embrace you.

"i didn't mean to just disappear how i did," she began, causing you to look at her again. "i just didn't want you to get caught up in the shit show that is my life,"

"katie, you could've just said you needed a bit of space,"

"but i don't think that's what i wanted, i just didn't to ruin what we were doing, and well, making.." she paused, taking one of your hands into her own and bringing her lips to press against the skin.

"you were just too sweet to me,"

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