#“sorry but I'm not up to it today; maybe another time?”

[illuminiscentboba]

studying with a sleepy akaashi and him pulling moves on you (they're working)

it was another simple cold day, november settling in and bringing with it a chill that was quick to freeze your fingertips and tickle your nostrils. deadlines never seemed to stop piling but at least you had someone to motivate you, also a victim of the same craft.

there he was already settled into the booth, his muscular arms folded, his shoulder sagging as his head bobbed, his glasses settled low on his nose.

you were a little too quick to snap a photo, hurrying in to surprise him.

"keiji? hey wake up." you lightly shook his shoulders. he squinted at you, quick to shift upright and readjust himself, a long yawn erupting his mouth, his stretching flexing the shirt around his chest.

"did you get any sleep last night?" he paused, another yawn escaping before he could get out a word. "No, my roomates were up late playing this new game that came out. I couldn't sleep with all the yelling."

You hovered around in concern. "Should we study later so you can take a nap or next time?"

"Nono, this is the best time for us because we're both free today. We should try to power through" he mustered a sleepy smile and you settled in across from him. It was true, with how much classes, random labs and tutorials this was unfortunately the best day for you guys to coordinate.

Sleepy akaashi was charming to say the least. The errors he made where he normally would be perfect followed by a perplexed "hmm...that isn't quite right?" or disappointed, "hm? this one is wrong too? i'm sorry (name)."

seeing him fight the fatigue, taking small sips of his coffee, a distressed palm raking through his hair. "Let me sit beside you so I can show you the right way." "would you please?" the apologetic pull of his lips downward. what a cutie.

and so you worked through the problems, filling in each others blanks, hearing your voice beside him helped him reorient himself.

with his chin settled into his palm he watched as you explained the concept, gaining more confidence in how much you thought you knew about it. before he knew it he was reachign out, catching wisps that were going to get into your eye behind your ear. you pause, staring incredulously. "you were saying?" his tone, a little too smug for your liking.

"nothing." you say indignantly, your eyes following the hands still perched around the area of your face, leafing through the hair by your ears. "what are you doing."

he brings his face closer, pretending to inspect the side of your face, his face dangerously your own. "making sure I do a good job." he whispers into your ear.

something isn't right about him. the huskiness of his voice. the teasing grin, how'd he go from adorable to something that would eat you up. was it because he was tired that he was less careful and nervous than usual?

in fact... something hasn't been quite right for a while now. the prolonged staring he'd do when you guys were studying, the reaching across from you, and sitting very close to you. all the details he remembered. he always responds why wouldn't he but never brings up that he does it to anyone else. you thought back to the previous conversations and how akaashi tried to seem not as interested as he actually was when you guys would have group discussions about love.

your more than familiar now with his shy smile, the fidgeting with his fingers, and unyielding stare whenever he wanted to know or talk about something dear to his heart in a way everyone would not misunderstand.

maybe the teasing from your friends weren't for nothing. maybe he was trying to tell you this whole time.

"oh right, I have something to show you." he turns away, reaching into his bag and your filled with anticipation he slips something into his hands.

"your hand please." he extends his palm to which you nervously press against his. he intertines his fingers through yours, the glow of his smile and face radiating warmth as he pulls something from his wrist onto yours.

you gasp. you had lost your staple bracelet that matched your rings and earrings a week ago and you didn't realize how atattched you were to it until you trashed your room searching for it.

"oh my god, keiji!!! you remembered!! oh my god stop, this is so sweet thank you!" he seems quite proud of himself as you continued to pour with thank yous, and your the best. he assures you as always that he'll always remember the words of those dear to him.

he squeezes your hand in his and you squeeze back so excited to have it back in your collection. "that was super neat, the way you got it from your wrist to mine. that was a little too smooth to not be practiced." did he have another girl or guy you didn't know about?

"you think so?" he raises a brow. "my roomate was bragging about it the other day so i thought I'd give it a go?" the confidence and teasing tone to his voice was so attractive.

"and you thought of me?" "I don't know anyone better." his other hand grazes your face again, sweeping away what you know is no more than a singular strand of hair. "you couldv'e just handed me it."

"well if I'm being fully honest..." he tilts his head, in the silly way he's seen his teamates do when begging him to do something for them. "I also really wanted to hold your hand." he smiled shyly and then he did that thing he always did, where he stared at you really hard and it finally clicked in your mind. he was checking your reaction to see if you were okay with the touch.

for permission.

oh my god, he was enforcing the boundaries you didn't set because he wanted to make sure you were okay with his approaches. all the moments between you guys that made your heart race were intentional.

you place the hand lingering by your face to cup your cheek as you lean in. theres no faster way for you to get out all of your emotions and thoughts then a kiss. his chair tilts back and his hands wrap around your waist to steady you guys. its a quick smooch, given you guys are in a public setting but more than enough.

"I think we're due another discussion about our feelings...somewhere quiet?" "yeah." you mumble, twin grins on your faces as you pack up your stuff, almost rushing out of the cafe having paid your bill earlier.

if there was anyone safe enough for you to entrust your heart to it would always be him.

(this is part of a longer fic, also posted today)

[bangchansslut6]

Hot nerds.

A year ago Chan wouldn't have even believed that you. The schools hottest and also maybe dumbest girl would ask him out at lunch. He thought that you were joking, that your boyfriend would jump him the moment he said yes..but he risked it and did. To his surprise no one attacked and all he saw was smiles and giggles from you. The only explanation to why you had asked him out was "I love hot nerds!"

[a small not so innocent idea I had of sub channie..bear with me please]

TW - Sub!Channie, reader is considered a bimbo, overstimulation, crying, degrading, edging, Chan is kinda a masochist..🤫 Chans dad is a millionaire

The week at school this year had been stressful for Chan. He was smart yes but he studied like crazy. All his tests had A+ on them and you his ever so sweet girlfriend had told him. "You deserve a reward for working so hard!"

So here you were.

On a late Saturday evening Chris's fathers personal driver picked you up from your apartment before driving you all the way to Chris's father's huge mansion. Your nerd of a boyfriend was already standing outside the gate waiting for you and once you saw him. Oh it was hugs and kisses.

When the two of you finally got inside the way to Chris's bedroom was fast knowing it by your heart.

Over the one year of your relationship you had found out many things about Chris. In the bedroom he was a total bottom. Liked being called a whore, slapped and definitely pegged. You didn't mind. It gave you a sense of confidence? Power? You didn't really know. But didn't mind it either.

"So..Whatcha had in mind for today?" Chris's voice made you snap out of your thoughts for a moment. "Oh! I thought maybe we could just lay back and..let a movie play?" You said in a doll sweet voice.

That was not what actually happened.

Thirty minutes into some random movie you had picked on Netflix Chris was naked laying on the bed with his cock absolutely throbbing as you kept edging him for what felt like the 100th time now. He was sobbing in full tears but begging for it again when you pulled your hand away.

His cheeks were red from the slaps you had given him earlier. His glasses? Tossed somewhere on the floor with the rest of his clothing.

"Think you can take another one pretty boy?" You whispered thumb gently rubbing over his tip making his eyes roll back. "Y-yes..oh p-please just fuck me.." he whined hips bucking up to meet your hand.

"Awh..I'm sorry pretty boy but I can't.. you haven't earned it yet." You whispered watching as more tears dripped from his eyes. Just as you were about to reach for the lube in his drawer the sound of his father's voice called. "Chan? I'm home!"

Chans eyes widened but his hips didn't stop bucking up once more.

"Try to stay quiet now you little man whore.." You whispered as his eyes crossed again.

It was going to be a LONG weekend

[howlingday]

Sisters Nikos

--------------------------------------------------

Today was supposed to be a good day for Pyrrha Nikos. Where everyone else saw Champion of Mistral, the Invincible Girl, the top graduate of Sanctum Academy and best first-year student of Beacon Academy, her current companion walking at her side was Jaune Arc, the leader of Team JNPR and her partner on said team. Since her arrival, the only person to treat her as, well, as the person she always wanted to be treated as was the same person whom she held a quiet affection for.

Their other teammates, Lie Ren and Nora Valkyrie, decided to stay behind as the other two went for an errand run through Vale. Groceries, supplies, and maybe a comic book on the way home. Honestly, Pyrrha was just happy to be with someone who said her name like they really knew her.

"Pyrrha? Is that you?"

Oh no. Not like that. Not like this.

The young redhead turned to see other redheads approaching her. Each of them wore their own attire, some formal, some casual, and some WAY too casual. Pyrrha grit her teeth as they drew closer, making her partner look at her with concern. He should be concerned, since the only people who could ever make her feel like this was her own family. Her own sisters, to be more specific.

"Hello, Pyrrha." The woman with the golden eyes smiled. It was a polite smile, one that hid her true intentions. The woman was shorter than her and wore her hair in a braided ponytail than ran down to the middle of her black jacket that covered her white button-up shirt. "What a pleasant surprise."

"Makima." Pyrrha nodded. "It's nice to see you, too."

The woman looked to Jaune, who gave a bit of a flinch at the attention. "Oh, dear. I hope we aren't interrupting something."

"Uh..." Jaune cleared his throat. "H-Hi, the name's-"

"Two for flinchin'!" Jaune reeled as a small fist slammed into his uncovered shoulder. She knew where to hit, which made sense for the flaming-print bikini, short-short jeans, and ponytail sporting girl of the group. She laughed triumphantly as the boy winced in pain. "Oh, c'mon! I didn't even hit ya that hard!"

"Yoko!" Pyrrha chided in unison with another of her sisters. She was shorter than the others, wearing an orange-decorated skirt with a purple blouse. In her hair was a set of two light blue hairpins, each with six points. In one hand, she carried a bag of groceries. "Oh, I'm sorry, Inoue."

"No, no, it's fine!" She apologized. "I should have let you apologize."

"Neither of you should have to apologize because Yoko should know better." One of the taller sisters stepped through, wearing armor not too dissimilar to Jaune's. Taking hold of Yoko's ear with her finger, encased in a metal gauntlet, she pulled. "Apologize right now!"

"I-I'm sorry, Erza!"

"Not to her, Yoko-"

"You are forgiven this time." She let go, much to the annoyance of Pyrrha. Erza always was the one to get the wrong lesson from the issue at hand. "Now, what did you say your name was?"

"Er, it's Jaune. Jaune Arc. Short, sweet, and it rolls off the tongue. The ladies love it~."

Pyrrha certainly did, though her sisters had different opinions on the statement. Three sisters, in particular, made grimacing faces like they'd been insulted. The girl in the open-bottom jacket and black short-shorts adjusted her glasses in disgust as the burgundy skirted sister in a black cloak covering her pristine white blouse simply scowled next to her. Behind the two was the tallest of the sisters, wearing a sleeveless, orange jacket, glowered down at Jaune.

"Disgusting!" Karin chided.

"Pathetic." Rias huffed.

"Ugh..." Groaned Ameri.

"How cute~!" The girl with the cone-like headphones giggled. She leaned over to one of the shorter sisters. "What are you thinking, Monika?"

"I'm thinking of a poem to write about this meeting." Monika replied, her white bow bobbing as she leaned towards her red-and-white-haired sister.

"Oh, cool! I'm thinking about writing a song! Wanna collab?"

"Nothing would make me happier, Uta~!"

"Pyrrha, aren't you going to introduce us?"

As if she had a choice. Giving a sigh, Pyrrha saw that there was a cafe nearby. Stopping for a break sounded nice, now that Pyrrha thought about it. Even if it was putting one task on hold to deal with another, even more harrowing task. "Jaune, these are my sisters. And I think it's best if we all sat down to talk about this."

[bluu3berry]

Flowering Heart.

{CW: Disease, Heartbreak, Graphic depiction, Hanahaki Disease.} Enjoy ~!

Please read, or atleast reblog I spent so much time on this...

Sans stared into the mirror… a new day in the underground. Today was special! No humans have fallen recently and I got closer to the lady behind the door. In Fact, he learned her name! Toriel. He was never one for lovey-dovey stuff but over the years of talking with her, he got to know her. She used to care for children, she loves cooking, she is a very clean person and other hobbies of hers! It grew to the point that surprisingly he found himself catching feelings for her… to the point he was able to get echo flowers from Waterfall just for this occasion!

He adjusted his red bowtie which was tied to his normal clothing, as he smiled a bit wider than his normal grin. He sighs as he stands up and “shortcut” from his room to the door of the ruin.. doing the secret knock which indicates who it is.. he hears Toriel coming quickly. 

“ Sans! Sans! Hah, I found a joke book and I have so many things to tell. However.. you came earlier than usual! Anything different?” The lady spoke softly with sweetness.. he thought of words to tell the monster behind the door for this occasion. “ Why yes Tori is uhh got some good news for ya- or well me. I think I got something for ya “Sans spoke back awkwardly as he grinned at the door awaiting the response.

“ Oh- wait what is it? A joke? Another one of your hotdogs, I do need to still try to make those don’t you agree? “ Toriel said giggling afterward as she finally sat down at the door… sans paused as he thought for a moment “Ehh nah… it's something more alive huh? I thought you would like your Into flowers right?” He said slightly nervous for her reaction.. he sat on the snow before grabbing the echo flowers and pushing them through the door.. a few petals being slightly shaved off due to the tight gap “Oh? Echo flowers.. sans I haven't seen these in such a long time! It's a wondrous gift! But why flowers, I never asked for these?” She spoke slightly confused as sans sighed and waited for the echo flower to speak for itself. “ You should. maybe listen to the plant, huh?” Sans said softly as Toriel nodded

Toriel picked up the flower and held it close to her floppy ears as the echo flower glowed whispering into her ear “ Could we go to Grillby’s… “ the echo ringed as another picked up the sentence. “ You are a good friend to me.. but.. “ it rang as Toriel knew what was to come.. she froze hearing the third one. “ Could… it be more. “ Toriel was shocked! The echo flowers glow went silent, as Sans on the other side of the door fidgeted quietly.

“ Sans... “ Toriel spoke in a slightly deep and upsetting tone.. sans paused listening to what Toriel had to say “ I am.. not ready for more than this. I haven't even seen your face. I'm sorry but I don't think I'm ready for a relationship. Besides, I don't think I could even live out of the ruins. Everything would be so new! I don't know how much it would have changed.“ She spoke softly to let him down easily.. Which didn't work. She slid the flowers back out a couple of the petals ripping off as the flower's glow slowly disappeared into nothing “.. heh- that's alright Tori ignored it, what was that book about anyways? “ Sans said awkwardly and distant but not to the point of tears.. But they started to roll. Why? He heard no response to his question.

It was just the soft padding of feet leaving the door. Toriel needed space after such a thing, knowing the monster beyond the door? Interested in her.. that changed how she viewed sans. But she was too kind to tell him that. He tapped the door on his knock again, listening for the feet to return. “ Eh? Toriel didn't know you were going somewhere. I'll wait for ya. “ He said softly as he pulled his bowtie off and wrapped it around his stitched jacket.. zipping up the coat and laying in the snow waiting for her to return.. after hours, and hours of waiting, no response. But he didn't leave, besides! He still had hope for Toriel to return. It was getting colder and colder on his bones.

What surprised him the most was the flowers blooming in his eye.. the echo flowers covered the left side of his face quickly. “ Hn.. eh? Ah, flowers? Wonder if I got seeds in my skull again hah.. "Sans spoke as his voice was weary.. his hand reached to his face grabbing a flower and pulling in it slightly.. usually they come out right? Nope.. he jolted out of the snow still tired but in a panic, shock of pain was sent throughout his head. "A-AGHH-!?" He *screamed as the pain bloomed from his eyesight. He clawed at the echo flower trying to rip the source of pain to subside. He was able to tear out a few strangling blue petals, which fell onto his fluffy coat rim and sleeves. He thrashed around trying to yank out more of the flowers, tossing and turning in the snow, causing more snow to pile on top of him. The cold slowly replaced the pain, numbing the harm caused as he curled into a ball. Watching as a snowstorm started to form in Snowdin.

“ I feel so.. wea-.. hah.. ah. “ His panicked voice was overtaken by an exhausted gaze and becoming too weak to move. His pupils disappeared from the only eye available as the echo petals slowly formed in between his hand.. and in the gaps of his neck, not being fully flowers yet but the petals sure didn't help with the cold.“ It's.. so.. chilly.. “ he spoke as the flowers and petals seemed to be feeding off his magical energy and his form… his eyes turned glassy his vision blurring all he could make out was the familiar red scarf of his brother quickly approaching as he slipped into unconsciousness. @anon-coke @scramble-eg @thelunarsystemwrites @superbfirnacho @the-second-reason < Thanks for pure review

[gingersnaptaff]

HI me again back with another Welsh law bonanza. For some reason I don't know, u guys really liked the Gwenhwyfar divorce post I did a few weeks back, so allow me to shed some light on how divorces worked as well as marriage payments, and the role of a queen in Welsh law. (Which doesn't have much on it but is FASCINATING.)

Also, I am SUFFERING from cramps so I apologise if I ramble.

First off, Marriage Laws.

So, as previously discussed there were two ways a woman could marry: she could either be given by her family, or she could elope. Now, a woman who eloped would still be entitled to the same monetary payments as a woman who was given in marriage by her kin,

So, the Dues Payable are as follows: Amobyr, Cowyll, Agweddi, Gwaddol, Argyrfreu, and Wynebwerth.

I'm gonna cover Amobyr and Cowyll today, as well as do a lil write-up about Queenship so yeah.

It's a maiden fee! Now, this and the Cowyll are BOTH maiden fees, however, they differ as Cowyll - and we'll get onto it later - is a fee maybe to the lady herself. Sort of a wedding morning gift, I guess. 'Sorry I slept with u, or not, have some money.' Which, is extremely crass.

The Amobyr was fixed to a lady's status and it goes from King, Chief Bard or Storyteller, Chief Officers (so a Distain, which is what we Welsh would call a Seneschal), Minor Officer's daughters, Uchelwyr (so knights or lords), and then your middling noblemen, to peasants, foreigners, and slaves.

It's essentially equal to the revenue the father would get for his land, but EVERY SINGLE WOMAN would get it, regardless of status. High-born or low. The amount's payable regardless of whether you have one penny or seven thousand.

Now, amobyr could be recovered by suit as it was payable to the King and was essentially like protection money. If you made off with somebody's amobyr you were in BIG TROUBLE. HOWEVER, and I really love this fact, the King's daughter's amobyr would be payable not to him BUT TO THE QUEEN, as well as other daughters of high rank like your Pencerddau, chief groom, etc.

Amobyr was payable once a couple had cohabited for the first time, and even had to be payable if a man boasted that he'd shagged a woman and gotten her pregnant, but actually hadn't. Presumably because a) these laws are BIG on honour bonds and things and because you'd lied you'd tarnished that woman's honour and your own, and b) you'd kinda claimed that Lady as yours because you've made her unchaste.

Because it's a maiden fee it - like the Cowyll ' could only be paid ONCE. No more, no less. If you were a widow or wanted remarry, you can't get the amobyr again. Also, if you'd eloped with a dude and your family had caught you before you'd consummated your relationship they didn't have to pay cuz you're still a virgin. Also, if you were raped then the rapist had to pay amobyr to your family in recognition of that.

Finally, a lady who'd had a fling which had resulted in a bastard child* but she hadn't declared who the father was, then she was responsible for the amobyr. However, if she HAD declared who the father was then he had to pay the amobyr instead.

The Cowyll, as I've already said, is a personal payment to the lady that's made on the first morning after marriage.

Now, in North Wales it's always given as money even if you're a King's daughter, BUT if you're in the South then you get la lovely chunk of land. So if you married a prince of Gwynedd, bad luck, just money for u. If you married a Prince of Deheubarth then you are QUIDS IN! (THAT'S YOURS FOR LIFE BABYYYYY)

(Ignore the Agweddi for today. Or don't. Think of it as a tantalising glimpse into the next law I'm gonna cover.)

Cowyll is both paid to just married women AND those who were violated against their will. The wife / lady who had been violated had the right to specify what they wished for their cowyll to be in service of. If she didn't then it just went on stuff for the couple, so I'd imagine whatever the medieval equivalent of IKEA flat pack furniture would've been, that would've been what they'd have chosen.

Also, it's kept entirely separate from the husband's property so he Could Not pinch from it, or use it in service of himself. You couldn't even be deprived of it if you'd had an affair or did any naughty business. That's YOUR MONEY AND BY GOD YOU CAN KEEP IT. Even if you divorced your husband or he you, you would be allowed take your cowyll with you.

Now, finally, QUEENSHIP.

(Particularly handy if you are, like me, doing an Arthurian-inspired, Welsh-set novel and you GOTTA KNOW WHAT GUINEVERE DOES.)

There is not a lot on it because it isn't something that's studied that much (idk why. Wales has tonnes of cool Queens even if they didn't become regent) but we make do with what we can!

You, as King, could marry ANYBODY (Within reason, nobody is marrying a peasant girl) within what would be termed your Cenedl (that's your family.) or out of it.

Kings, we know, often married their first cousins, or second cousins to keep the balance of power within Wales (you gotta remember Wales wasn't united back then! Gwynedd, Powys, and Deheubarth fuckin squabbled like dogs over bones, and Do Not get me started on the littler kingdoms like Arwystli or Senghenydd.)

Seriously, Gwenllian ap Gruffudd ap Cynan (Gwynedd) eloped with Gruffydd ap Rhys (Deheubarth) and they were like distantly related. Or, Gwenllian's brother and v famous boi, Owain Gwynedd married his first cousin, Cristina (and, in doing so, ensured that after his death Gwynedd would have a power vacuum because of squabbling that wouldn't be sorted until Llywelyn Fawr took the throne and overthrew his uncles. It's always fuckin Gwynedd. Even Gwenllian's son, The Lord Rhys, married one of his first cousins, who was also named Gwenllian.)

*Gets slapped with a wet fish* Sorry, I was rambling.

Now, kings did also marry for political alliances. Gruffudd ap Cynan himself married Angharad ferch Owain (can u sense a theme with the names?) because she was from a well-off, noble family who had ties to the Anglo-Saxons when Gwynedd was in a bad spot with the Norman's. Llywelyn Fawr married Joan, the illegitimate daughter of King John of England, when relations became... tense, shall we say.

So, lemme go over some stuff regarding laws real quick before I tell u why I've highlighted these three ladies. (Cuz they're fun and I'm in love with them- uh, you what?)

So all the Codes (North, South, Mid) attach the following to the Queen: a steward, priest, chief groom, door-keeper, and a handmaiden. In Gwynedd she was also given a page, a separate cook (presumably because of poisoning attempts), and a candle-bearer (would LOVE to be that. No joke.) Whereas in Deheubarth she was given a groom of the rein, a sewer, and a footholder. (For all u lovers of the Fourth Branch of the Mabinogi out there this is a win for u.)

The line of Cunedda which (and, fuck me, I can't believe I'm saying this) IS BASICALLY ALL OF THE KINGDOMS OF WALES allowed for transition of royal dignity through a the female as well as the male. That means u could contest ur throne using your mam's blood and status as well as your dad's. Owain Glyndŵr, as I have previously mentioned, did this when he started his rebellion against Henry IV, as his mother descended from both the houses of Gwynedd and Deheubarth and his father descended from Powys. Truly, the people's Prince.

Now, a queen had her own privy purse (Go her), and one-third of the income the king received went to the Queen for her personal use. She also received land grants that went directly to her.

Now, finally, why tf did I highlight those three Queens that I spoke about earlier? Okay, so, Queens couldn't be regents, BUT they absolutely could and did use their power in any way they could.

Angharad ferch Owain was the mother of Owain Gwynedd, Gwenllian, and Cadwaladr. Owain Gwynedd ruled Gwynedd after his dad died in 1137 and led Gwynedd to become Wales' most successful kingdom at that time. He is also the reason why the Prince of Wales is called the Prince of Wales. ANYWAY. He and Cadwaladr had a falling out in 1143 and Angharad, not liking the way Cadwaladr was being treated, took his side. (Dunno why, he killed her step-grandson, Anarawd. Like, Angharad pls. Priorities, del.)

So, Owain ordered his son, Hywel, (yes him of bardic fame) to BURN DOWN Cadwaladr's castle in Aberystwyth. Cadwaladr, enraged, hot-footed it to Ireland where he and the Vikings invaded Gwynedd in an attempt to make Owain give him his lands back.

Angharad supported Cadwaladr by allowing him to beach his forces in her lands of Abermenai in Ynys Môn (Anglesey.) and also tried to intercede on her son's behalf with his brother. Anyways, the brothers were reconciled (for a brief period. Cadwaladr was aligned with the Normans so he remained a thorn in his big bro's side.) and Angharad lived until 1162. Her death led Owain Gwynedd into a melancholic spell.

Gwenllian ferch Gruffudd ap Cynan waged war against the Normans during the Great Revolt. Fighting against the Normans was very much a family affair for, you see, her brothers Owain (previously mentioned cousin-marrier) and Cadwaladr also waged war against the Normans at this time, and their dad, Gruffudd ap Cynan also fought against them SO HE COULD BECOME KING OF GWYNEDD. After her husband left Deheubarth to go and plead with her father for troops and aid men flocked to her and they waged a guerrilla war against the Normans until 1136.

This pains me to say but a Welsh lord betrayed Gwenllian after the Normans - seeking to win back the territory that Gwenllian and Gruffydd ap Rhys had recovered - waged war against them. She and her two eldest sons, Morgan, and Maelgwn died. Morgan in battle, and Maelgwn and Gwenllian were beheaded at Castell Cydweli.

After her death, South Wales rose in rebellion against the Normans. Her brothers, once word reached Gwynedd, invaded Norman-controlled Ceredigion (which was Deheubarth's territory.) and won back Aberystwyth, Llanfihangel, and Llanbadarn. The Welsh battle cry for many years was 'Dial Achos Gwenllian!' Revenge for Gwenllian.

Finally, Joan, Lady of Wales. She's referred to as Siwan in Welsh. She was the daughter of King John (as previously said.) She often mediated between her father and her husband, Llywelyn Fawr. The Brut y Tywysogion writes: 'Llywelyn, being unable to suffer the king's rage, sent his wife, the king's daughter, to him, by the counsel of his leading men, to seek to make peace with the king on whatever terms he could.' I'll probably do a full post about her at some point but yeah, she's cool!

Anyways, hope u enjoyed this!

Okay, hywl fawr!

[heartforbangtan]

The only exception | 3

Series Summary: What are the consequences of having your first kiss with your best friend?

Pairing: Park Jimin X Female Reader 

Genre:  Dancer AU, Friends with Benefits, Angst, Smut, Fluff, Romance, Mutual Pining 

Chapter Count: 3 /? (ongoing) 

Word count: 6,8k+

Content Warnings: explicit mature content

A/N: sooo sorry for the delay. A lot of things have happened in my life lately, besides a looot of college exams ��😭 I hope you're still with me 🥺🥺

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I'm sorry that I hurt you It's something I must live with everyday And all the pain I put you through I wish that I could take it all away And be the one who catches all your tears That's why I need you to hear The reason - Hoobastank

Current days 

Seoul, South Korea

The truth is that you have depended emotionally on Jimin for a long time and only now do you realize it. This situation has two sides of the coin: one, you feel happy to have had someone to count on, someone who made the mood less heavy for you; two, you feel guilty for having depended so much on him for so long.

You wonder if maybe that was the reason Jimin left. Maybe he was fed up with your problems and didn't know how to say he didn't want to be a part of it anymore.

As the years passed, with maturity and the search for psychological help, you were able to understand many things.

Today you are no longer bothered by your parents' problems. Living away from home for a few years has helped you to get away from the black hole that was their problems.

Your life took a different direction and, to be honest, it became much lighter. But there was still something inside you that needed to be finished.

You avoided talking about this in therapy, but at times it came to the surface. Another thing that therapy helped you see: despite all the chaos that your life became as a teenager, you managed to find something good in it. Today you can recognize it: you were madly in love with Jimin. But who wouldn't be? He was simply perfect, even at such a young age.

All the fun times you had together, plus the times he helped you so much, couldn't have resulted in anything other than you falling in love with him.

However, now Jimin was on another level and you no longer belonged to his world like before. Despite this, you couldn't help yourself not to think about him most of the time.

And you hate your head for it. How could you keep thinking about him even after he was gone?

Many of your feelings were being revived and turned upside down with this new reality of working side by side with him.

When they say, temporary pleasure helps fuel your loneliness, they’re not lying. 

And that's what you're doing now.

On top of him, with his cock buried inside you, it kind of makes you forget about your whole life. Your eyes are closed, trying to focus on the pleasure you're feeling.

“Y/n, look at me…” Taehyung says, but you ignore him.

Looking at him shatters the illusion, and as fragile as it is, the illusion is all you have.

“Y/n, please.”

You start to ride him harder, stopping him from talking any further. Your pussy contracts, the familiar pleasure building inside your belly.

Taehyung knows what you're thinking. And he doesn't mind being your outlet sometimes. It's not like he has feelings for you like that. But he would like you to at least look at him while you're having sex

He gives up trying to make you look at him. Taehyung grabs your waist and throws your body against the bed. The sudden change in position makes you open your eyes in fright. And for a moment you think that maybe he had had enough of your nonsense.

But he opens your legs and positions himself in the middle again. Adjusting the condom on his member, he directs himself back inside you.

The wonderful feeling of being filled by him in this different position makes you roll your eyes. Taehyung is pleased to know that you are enjoying it. His fingers begin to caress your clit, encouraging you to get closer to orgasm.

His breathing is heavy, slowly releasing hoarse moans. Taehyung can feel you tightening around him and he knows you're close to cumming.

His hips don't stop, slamming into you deliciously while his long fingers don't stop on your clit. Your fingers grip the sheets around you, making your knuckles white as you squeeze tightly. You can no longer control your moans, feeling that you are close to cumming.

“Tae, I'm going to-”

The combination of his moans and the sound of your skin slapping together makes you go crazy, the orgasm hitting you in strong waves.

Your legs tighten around his hips, pressing him against your body to keep him deep inside you.

“Wow…”

Taehyung can't control his moans as he feels you cumming around him. The scene is so erotic for him, that it pushes him to the peak, cumming along with you. The temporary pleasure feels so good that it almost makes everything seem perfect.

He kisses your forehead and gets off, going to discard the used condom.

You're a mess in bed. Your hair is spread out on the pillow and your body is sticky. When Taehyung comes back from your bedroom suite, you look at him with hungry eyes.

“You're so hot.”

He gives you that half-embarrassed, half-smug smile and joins you in bed.

“What were you thinking?”

You cover your body with the blanket and turn to face him in bed. You don’t know exactly what you were thinking. Maybe you were trying to focus solely on what you were doing, instead of getting lost in your thoughts and suddenly losing the mood.

“Nothing, I was trying to focus.”

“Why? Don’t I satisfy you enough?”

You get a little surprised by his words. You go over to him and throw your weight on top of his body.

“Of course you satisfy me. My legs are still shaking from just now.”

Taehyung smiles and he looks cute when he smiles. You can’t help but smile too.

“Then why did you need to focus?” His voice is soft and soothing, making you relax. You lay your head on his chest and breathe deeply in the scent of his masculine skin 

“I don’t know, I’m just really stressed with work. Sorry about that.”

Taehyung starts to play with your hair, running his fingers through the strands and smoothing them.

“You don’t need to apologize, I just want to know what’s going on in that little head of yours.”

Your head hurts a little, thinking about all the things that have happened this week in your life. You consider whether you should tell Taehyung what is stressing you out so much that you can barely focus on having sex with him. You feel bad for him, because sex with him is incredible and you can't complain about the countless times he has made you tremble after several rounds.

But now you are feeling a whirlwind of emotions and it is bothering you, you can’t allow yourself to feel these emotions. An immense dissatisfaction, a desire to go out and shout at everyone for no apparent reason.

“How was your week?” His voice disconnects you from your thoughts.

“I’m working with Jimin”

You close your eyes and wait for him to be surprised or some other reaction you can’t imagine.

“Hm, that’s unexpected. How are you feeling?”

To be honest, Taehyung already kind of knew about the whole situation. Ever since Jimin returned to Seoul after his performance trips, they’ve been talking more regularly. He just doesn’t think it would be ideal to tell you about it now, so he’s hoping you’ll tell him what’s bothering you first.

You lift your head from his chest and study him for a few seconds. He seems to be sincere and your heart softens.

“Strange.”

“Have you spoken to him?”

“Not exactly. We agreed to meet today.”

“That’s good.”

You raise an eyebrow doubtfully at Taehyung.

“What? I don’t know what else to say.”

“I don’t know either, honestly.”

You two stay silent for a few seconds, you just listening to his heartbeat with your head resting on his chest.

"Well, what time are you guys meeting?"

Your mind is somewhere else, but when you hear Taehyung's question your eyes widen.

“Oh my god, what time is it?” You get up quickly, not caring that you are naked, and start looking for your cell phone that is somewhere scattered among the clothes you threw on the floor.

You still have about an hour to get ready and leave.

“Thank God, there’s still time.”

“Do you want to take a shower?”

You turn and look at him and Taehyung is giving you a mischievous look. You get the message.

“Round two?” you ask.

And he’s already getting off the bed, heading towards you while you run to your bathroom laughing.

The discomfort between the two of you is noticeable to anyone who looks at you for more than 10 seconds.

Jimin shifts uncomfortably in his chair in front of you. He looks at you, his blond hair falling a little over his eyes.

You hold back the urge to sigh, because it's unbelievable that he could look so handsome with a hair color so different from his real shade. It's almost like he was born to be blond.

This isn't good for your mental health. Having him so close and so irresistibly handsome does things to your head and you have to remember why you're here.

“I didn't know you worked for that advertising company.” Jimin breaks the silence.

It's obvious you don't know. You never spoke to me again.

You think about it, but you don't have the courage to tell him. Not when you need to have a good relationship in order to continue working, for now. So you opt for a softer answer than you would like.

“I've been working with Minah for a few years now.” you try to say it as softly as possible, without letting the anger you're feeling show.

“Oh…”

And the uncomfortable atmosphere is back. In a few seconds a waitress is at your table, checking your orders and you thank God. The atmosphere was too heavy and neither of you knew how to fill that space in any other way.

The elephant in the room was clear and in vivid colors, but you both maneuvered to avoid it at every turn.

Jimin's head is so full that he can't choose the right words to say to you. He wants to tell you so many things but can't formulate any of them, ending up in silence.

“I didn't know you worked for Hybe. It's a pretty big company.” you lie.

You knew Jimin worked for that company, after all, you've never stopped following his work over the years.

A habit that your psychologist told you to eliminate from your routine, and you did. Somehow, eliminating this habit made you feel like you were definitely eliminating him from your life. And you didn't want that, despite everything.

But at some point you had to move on. You just didn't expect him to reappear in your life just when you were starting to move on a little.

“Oh, yeah, it was right after I left that, um, dance school I went to.“ Jimin looks embarrassed and you realize it.

“Ah…”

The mention of the well-known Seoul dance school he attended.

In other circumstances, this might be a reason for praise and all that. But this dance school only reminds you of what it was like to say goodbye to each other. One of your biggest traumas...

You agree with him, not knowing exactly what to say. Jimin knows that bringing up this topic wasn't a good idea and he mentally curses himself for it.

Silence takes over the table again and the only thing left is for you to look at each other.

You look at his hands on the table, playing with his own fingers in an attempt to calm his nervousness. His fingers have some rings adorning them and this doesn't go unnoticed by you.

You've always liked Jimin's hands. Something about their duality of being small and cute, but at the same time sensual and full of veins made you lose your mind.

Your eyes keep going up and you don't even notice that Jimin is doing the same to you. Analyzing your hands, looking for something.

Jimin is dressed all in black and you mentally curse him for it, for the countless time tonight. It should be forbidden for him to be dressed all in black like that and still be blond! It should be a crime for him to appear like that in front of you when all you want is to slap him for abandoning you. And you don't want to get lost in his stunning beauty, not at all.

You can't be weak enough to fall for his charms like that, even if he's not even trying.

When you reach his face, your eyes fall to his lips, the ones you kissed so much throughout your adolescence. The memory is still vivid in your mind.

The admiration lasted a few seconds, but you were late in meeting his eyes, because Jimin was already staring at you when you looked him in the eye. Your face heated up violently when you realized he had caught you staring at his lips.

You shifted in your chair, trying to show that you weren't affected by it, but the movement made you hit your knee and shake the things on the table.

“Shit... “ you curse. holding your knee.

Jimin looks at you worried and scared by the noise.

“Are you okay?”

And there's that concern of his that you really didn't need at that moment.

“Yes, yes, it was nothing.”

You continue massaging your knee as the waitress comes to bring your order to the table.

You realize that enough time has passed for your orders to be taken and brought to your table, but you haven't had a real conversation yet.

“So... What did you want to talk about?” you ask while keeping your eyes on the slice of cake you ordered.

“I think we should talk about us before all this starts.”

You accidentally hit the plate with your cutlery. Us.

“There's no us to talk about.” you don't look at him.

It never existed.

Maybe you were a little harsh.

“We can't keep avoiding each other like this if we're going to work together.” His voice is soft, but it still stresses you out.

“Well, it doesn't look like we're avoiding each other now.”

You point out, petulant, not liking the direction of this conversation.

Jimin maintains his posture, he knew you would be reluctant to talk. But he needed to do it.

“Y/n, you know what I'm talking about. You practically ran away from me on Tuesday.”

Jimin barely touched the food he ordered. And so did you.

His heart is tight in his chest and a lump in his throat as he sees you starting to get defensive with him.

The situation is starting to get to you, your fingers are already starting to tremble.

You stay silent because you don't know what to say to him, because he told the truth.

“I really want us to get along...again.”

Jimin says looking at you, waiting for you to look back. But you don't have the courage to look at him now. Not with him saying this kind of thing to you. After so long...

You almost laugh at what he says. Again?

“Again? So you can fuck me and then leave me like nothing happened?”

Your voice trembles a little and you feel like you've gone back in time, 5 years ago. When he left you without explanation, with your heart in your hand, which you had just ripped out of your chest to give to him.

You look at him with anger in your eyes, because that's what you're feeling right now.

Jimin has a surprised expression on his face at your outburst. He closes his eyes for a few seconds, as if he's trying to stay calm, and then looks at you again.

You couldn't imagine how much pain he was in.

"Don't say things like that." His voice is broken, you can feel it. But you think he doesn't have that right.

“Why not? It's the truth.”

“That's not how things happened and you know it.”

“So tell me how it went.” you're angry and your hands are already shaking. You hide them under the table, giving up on eating your meal. 

Jimin sighs.

“We don't need to talk about it.”

In fact, he himself didn't want to talk about it. You may not know it, but it left as much of an impression on him as it did on you. And he blames himself for it every day.

“Oh, I think we do. “ you challenge him.

Jimin pauses, the memories reliving in his mind, as if he doesn't already blame himself every day thinking about them.

“I needed to go to Seoul if I wanted to keep dancing. You know that, we talked about it.”

That's not what you want to hear. And that's not what Jimin wanted to say. He just can't think straight right now.

And that's not how things happened. You know that, and so does he.

He made that decision for the two of you alone.

"You could have told me earlier... " your voice is tired. You are tired

You have repeated these same lines before.

“I tried to tell you.” 

He really tried. And you don't know how much he suffered to tell you this, knowing that you would hate him forever.

You suppressed an ironic laugh. Jimin is joking today.

“Did you really try? Because to me it seemed like you waited until the last second to tell me.” your eyes don't leave his.

You want to see what face he'll make, what excuse he'll use this time.

Silence again.

You're both hurt too much. And Jimin understands your side, but he wanted you to understand his too.

You feel like you don't need to relive it. It was too much. What happened, happened. And now you need to be adults enough to put it behind you and work together.

You no longer feel like having this conversation anymore. Maybe you’re running away from your problems, but you can’t help it.

“Look, I don't feel like talking about this anymore.” You start to fix your bag. “ You don't have to worry, I won't ruin our working relationship.” You stand up and Jimin follows you with pleading eyes.

You ignore him.

He calls your name.

“Please, let me explain better.” His hand goes up to the table towards you, as if he were going to hold you.

But he stops halfway and closes it into a fist.

“You already explained.” you give a forced smile.”I'll see you on Monday at work.” and you walk away from him.

Your heart was crushed into a thousand pieces again. Tears wanted to form in the corners of your eyes. But you weren't going to humiliate yourself to the point of crying in front of him. Not again.

You walked to the cashier and paid your bill before leaving the coffee shop.

You practically ran to the parking lot and got into your car. As soon as you sat down, the tears started to fall violently.

You felt like an idiot for your actions. You wished this conversation had gone differently. You wished you had been more mature and not exploded in front of him.

Your eyes squeezed shut and you rested your head on the steering wheel.

This wasn't how things were supposed to be.

Jimin puts both hands on his face, covering his eyes and lowers his head. This was not the direction he expected the conversation to take.

“Stupid.” He says to himself. Because this is how he feels after this conversation.

There was no point in rehearsing this conversation a million times in his head. It didn't go as planned at all.

He had been thinking about explaining everything to you since the beginning. And finally telling you how much he missed you and how his life no longer made sense without you in it.

As soon as Jimin got home, he took off his clothes and threw himself on the bed. His head hurt, along with his entire body.

It's been a while since he's had a full night's rest. And the exhausting routine of rehearsals and performances has drained all the energy from his body, as well as his mind.

He was taken by surprise when he found out that his chief had hired a new advertising company. And he was even more surprised when he found out the name of the person who would be in charge of helping him personally. Jimin thought that life couldn't be more difficult for him. However, he saw a new hope emerge in the darkness that was his life.

He knew you worked for that company. He just didn't have the courage to admit that he was still looking for things about you, after all these years.

Jimin thought that you could finally get along, now that you were going to work together. Maybe he could explain to you everything he felt over the years, how he got lost in this world and doesn't know how to find himself anymore.

Unfortunately, things aren’t that simple.

He really hurt you. And Jimin can’t demand that you forgive him.

His phone vibrates with a message. Taehyung is asking how the date between the two of you went.

Jimin closes his eyes. It was a disaster.

It's been a few days since Jimin and Taehyung started talking more often again. They started chatting until the conversation turned to you. Jimin ended up telling you about the new surprise at work and asked if Taehyung still talked to you. Taehyung said that you were still friends and that you hung out a lot.

Jimin felt sad because honestly, it seems like people kept their bonds despite life, it was only him who had drifted away from almost everyone.

This wasn't right and he knew it. But for today it was enough.

“You need to talk to me.”

Yuna is sitting on the couch at your house after you called her, crying. She knows why and she knows what you went to do today. But since she arrived 30 minutes ago, you haven't said a word other than crying.

Your heart is tight in your chest and you feel a lump in your throat, even after you've cried a lot. Your eyes are already swollen enough to be starting to bother you and your nose is completely blocked.

“I don't know what to say. " Your voice comes out strange through your blocked nose and you almost laugh at how pathetic you sound now.

“Well, start by telling me how your conversation went.”

Yuna is patient and you are eternally grateful for that. It's no wonder she's been your best girl friend since high school when you two met.

You start telling her about your short but torturous conversation. In fact, it can't even be considered a conversation, since you barely talked about what really mattered. You blame yourself for that.

“I think I was very intolerant. I shouldn't have let myself get carried away by emotions.”

You cry a little more, but not as violently as before. Your body is already tired of crying, although you still feel hurt.

“You don't have to blame yourself for feeling things. It's been a long time since you last saw each other.”

Yuna is so good to you. But you feel like you're in the wrong and that you did something wrong.

“Still. I felt so angry at him because-”

“Because you still like him.”

She cut you off mid-sentence and your heart skipped a beat at her words. It made no sense to you after all these years.

“But it's been so many years... I don't even know who he is anymore.”

“Well, it doesn't matter. You're clearly affected by him again.”

Have you ever stopped being affected?

You feel stupid.

And your life feels like a joke. To be more specific, it feels like your life is a circus and you are the clown.

“I feel so stupid for being like this.”

A few more cold tears fall from your eyes and Yuna gets up to get you a tissue.

“Don't talk like that. You're not an idiot.”

“What kind of person still likes a guy who dumped her? An idiot.”

She sits up straighter and looks at you seriously. Here she comes.

“A person who has feelings so strong that they don't just go away.”

She hands you the tissue with determination and you accept it.

“That's bullshit”

“It's not bullshit. That's what makes you, you. That's one of the reasons people like you so much.”

Maybe she's right, but you're in a wave of self-pity that doesn't allow you to agree with her.

“I don't think so…”

Yuna sighs loudly.

“Ugh, stop being so stubborn. Let's have some wine.”

She's already getting up and walking towards her kitchen counter.

“I can't drink wine.”

“Why not? You don't work tomorrow.”

You realize you don't have a damn excuse not to drink the wine, so you huff and Yuna laughs knowing she's won.

You just feel like a crybaby. You want things to be resolved without having to be in such a painful way.

At least the weekend will be a good time for you to process everything that happened and prepare for another week of work with Jimin.

Clothes. Accessories. Makeup. Photo set.

You run around helping organize everything for the big publicity event that Jimin will be doing this morning. So far, everything is going as planned. And you try at all costs not to be in the same room as him, even though that is an almost impossible task.

Jimin is going to do some photos for this well-known magazine and this will help a lot to promote his image and the upcoming performances he will do. You helped him get this opportunity and set up the whole shoot, along with the photographers. What you don't understand is why Minah sent you with him. Your job was to stay behind the scenes, organize everything and run away from him.

But it seems that Minah has other plans. She has been making you accompany Jimin everywhere she can. Minah is smart, she must have already realized that there is something wrong with the two of you.

You finish eating your lunch with a sigh, checking the time on your cell phone screen. You hurry to brush your teeth and get back to work.

You enter Jimin's dressing room, where the entire team is constantly circulating. But now everything is quiet and you don't see anyone.

“Hey, is anyone here?”

As soon as you finish speaking, Jimin appears with a surprised expression, and without a shirt! He comes out of the bathroom.

You get scared and for a few seconds your eyes roam over his body. You want to kill him. Why is he so handsome and attractive? You can't understand.

“Is everything okay?”

You have to hate him. That's the only way you can handle this. You can't give him the satisfaction of having you drool over him like a teenager. Not again.

“Y-yeah. Everything’s fine.”

Jimin's surprised face has already disappeared and he's acting like nothing happened. You try to ignore him.

You’re looking for your bag to put your toothpaste and toothbrush in, but you can’t find them. You fidget with the couch cushions a little nervously, because you want to get out of there quickly and not be alone with Jimin for too long.

“It's over there.”

His voice comes from behind you. Very close. You get a fright and move away. He's still shirtless and this time you scolded him not only in your head.

You're not thinking straight.

“Why are you naked?”

You sound harsh and Jimin frowns.

“I'm not naked.”

You get mad because there's no real reason for you to be mad with him. Just the fact that you're completely shaken by him being shirtless so close to you.

“Just put on a damn shirt.”

You are not being rational, but your actions are faster than your thoughts.

“Why are you acting like this? It's just a shirt.”

Jimin is slightly stressed and you can tell. You think he has no right to. Not when you can't admit the reason you're so mad: the fact that he's so damn gorgeous like this.

“What's so hard about covering yourself up, Park? I don't want to see you.”

You try to be functional and look for your bag, but your head doesn't seem to work when Jimin is so close.

“Well, you were the one who came in here.”

You look at him again.

You feel like punching him.

“Well, I work here!”

“What will your boss think if she sees you treating the client like that?”

Oh, he doesn't dare.

He's being a scoundrel.

“You want to know the truth? I'd rather not even be working on this with you!”

You spit the words in his face and Jimin stays silent. Maybe you went too far, but it's too late now.

Maybe you were too hasty in saying that you wouldn't ruin your relationship at work. Things were spiraling out of control faster than you had anticipated. It had only been two weeks and this was already happening...

You feel stupid. You told him, to his face, that you wouldn't ruin your work relationship. And now look at it. You've already screwed it up and you've barely gotten started.

His gaze is dead. You feel the sparkle is gone. You feel guilty.

“Okay…”

Jimin walks away from you and goes to the other side of the room, to a clothes rack, to look for the next outfit he's going to wear.

You can tell he's annoyed by the way he forcefully passes each hanger of clothes. His shoulders are tense and it's only now that you've noticed that he has a tattoo of the phases of the moon on his back.

With Jimin far enough away from you that you can't smell his incredible perfume or see his honey skin that drives you crazy, you can think straight. You sigh audibly and try to improve the situation, after all your job depends on it, you can't forget.

“I'm sorry. That was rude.”

He keeps his back to you.

“It's okay. I got the message.”

Now you start to feel guilty about what you said.

Jimin continues to search through the clothes rack and the only thing you can do is stare at his back. You notice the other tattoos he has now, something he didn't have when you were close. You want to know the origin of each one and what they mean to him. You wanted to know all the things about him.

You finally find your bag, which was right in front of your eyes. You feel extremely embarrassed.

When you turn around, Jimin is already wearing a white shirt with a black harness over it. He looks gorgeous.

You hate him even more. Because despite everything, you can't find him ugly. But you wish you could find him ugly and not at all attractive. Things could be easier that way.

The other employees start arriving to organize everything for the photoshoot.

You talk to some people who are responsible for creating the media and give them guidance on what should be done for later divulgation. You already have everything organized in a notebook, how you will divulgate each thing.

You try to focus on that: the professional scheme you've created for Jimin's image. You try to focus on the fact that this is just another job and try to forget who he is.

You are invited to watch the photoshoot and, honestly, you didn't want to. But you had nothing else to do at the moment so it would be a little weird to refuse.

In a separate room, the set is all set up for him. The photographers are already organized in their places. You knew that the theme of this photoshoot would be “the truth untold”, but you didn’t quite understand what that meant.

In the ready-made set, there was something that looked like a cage and Jimin positioned himself in the middle. Jimin is wearing a mask and has ribbons holding his arms, as if he were a puppet. A melody starts playing to guide him in the photos that have already started to be taken.

The melody also has sounds similar to a squirming doll and Jimin follows the rhythm without missing a beat, squirming in the restraints that are holding him.

After a few minutes of this, Jimin finally manages to get rid of the restraints and then he slowly takes off his mask. Several photos are taken at this moment. His face is so different from what you usually see that your heart skips a few beats. He seems very focused on what he is doing and exudes a lot of emotion.

His gaze is heavy and you feel as if he is indeed tied up and finally breaking free. You almost lose your breath as they take pictures of him. And the back of your neck starts to sweat a little despite the air conditioning.

After this part of the photoshoot, everything happens very quickly. The makeup artists come to touch up his makeup while Jimin gets rid of his clothes and puts on another one.

Even though he's not completely naked, it still feels wrong to watch him change like that in front of everyone. You snap out of your trance after watching him and try to get out of Jimin's field of vision.

The next set is called "rebirth" but you can't take it anymore. You catch a glimpse of his outfit, which is a mix of white and black, as if he's slowly being painted white.

You can't help but think that all these sets and clothe have some deeper meaning behind them. And your head is spinning with all the possibilities.

You head to the restroom to get some air, because it's going to be a long day if you keep this up.

A week had passed since that day, and you still hadn't talked.

“Look, I don't want to be mean to you. You know I only want the best for you. “ Minah says.

Sitting at the restaurant table, you can already anticipate what she's going to say.

“But speaking as your boss, I need you to resolve whatever situation is happening between you and Jimin.”

Your heart sinks. You never imagined you would have to hear this from her. Things have gotten so out of hand that even Minah can sense the discomfort between the two of you.

Although she hasn't seen you two interacting in person, someone probably ended up telling her how things are between you. And internally you hate yourself for letting this show so easily, at the same time as you hate your gossipy colleagues.

“I understand…”

“I don't know what happened between you two..., but I really wish you could get along. You are the best employee I have.”

You feel a little uncomfortable with her words, but deep down you understand what she means. Minah is being practical. And what matters now is business, not your personal relationship with Jimin.

“I promise it's not big deal.”

You try to pretend, but Minah has known you for years. She knows you don't talk much about your personal problems, but she can tell by the changes in your mood. And she's definitely noticed the uncomfortable way you've been acting every time you have to interact with Jimin. Or when she asks you to work with him all the time.

She's worried about you.

“I noticed, you know?”

She's still eating her lunch, sitting in front of you.

You listen attentively.

“You two kind of don't know how to act around each other. It's funny to watch from the outside, really.” she giggles, but you can't follow along.

She continues.

“As your friend, I think this is funny and would like to know more. But as your boss, I need this to improve. People will start to notice.”

And you know it's true.

There's no way you can work together several days a week, several hours a day, without someone noticing and commenting on how you're rude to him every time you talk.

Or how you hate being around him because all you've wanted to do is be around him all these years.

“So... are you going to tell me what happened?”she looks deep into your eyes.

You eat your food. Without any desire.

You decide that you are going to tell her. Not everything, but something.

“We kind of had this thing…”

You start, but you don't know how to continue. You don't even know what your relationship really was.

Minah is looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to continue.

“Were you guys dating?”

“No, I mean- it was complicated.”

She nods and continues eating.

“The point is: things didn't end very well and... we haven't talked about it since.”

You try to chew your food.

“How long has it been?”

“About 5 years.”

She looks at you in surprise.

“Were you really that young?”

You nod and give a humorless laugh.

Yeah, really young...

“Wow... I thought it was something recent.”

You're embarrassed. Any self-respecting adult would have gotten over this nonsense by now. But you can't.

Jimin was too much a part of your life for you to simply forget him as if he were nothing.

“Well, it clearly affected you. I can tell from afar.”

Minah raises her eyebrows a little as she says this.

“Yeah…”

You can't finish your food anymore and she notices. What a bummer, you wish you weren't so transparent.

“Damn, girl. He really messed you up, huh?”

What she said was far from funny, but the tone she used made you laugh somehow, and Minah ended up laughing along with you.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

Somehow you feel a little lighter after telling her this. Even though she doesn't know the details, it's enough for her to understand that you two had a complicated relationship and that it's affecting things a little now.

In any case, you can't forget the fact that you urgently need to change your relationship. It is no longer a matter of personal fights, it is a professional matter.

“But…” she pauses a little and chooses her words carefully ”I thought artists like him couldn't date.”

A piece of your heart broke at her words. Is there any part of it still whole?

“He wasn't famous yet.”

Minah looked at you for a few seconds until she understood. Her face became sad.

“Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get into a sensitive topic.”

“It's okay. It's been years anyway.”

It's not okay. But you don't feel comfortable enough to say it. It's best to keep it inside for now.

You feel relieved when you finish lunch and head back to the agency.

But you feel uncomfortable the rest of the day. You can't help but think that everything that's been happening in the last few days just makes you remember more and more what your goodbye was like.

After all these years of suppressing these feelings and trying to move on despite them, it now feels like your life and your sanity are being put to the test. Being constantly reminded of these events, even though almost no one knows about everything that happened, has taken away your peace.

You wonder if this affects Jimin as much as it affects you. You wonder if he thinks about you every time he kisses someone. You wonder if he remembers you two every time he sleeps with someone. Because you think about him every time you do, even if you'd die for it not to happen.

Every time you kiss someone, your mind makes sure to remind you that your first kiss was with him. Every time you have sex with someone, your mind makes even more of a point of reminding you what your first time was like and all the secret places he touched you that night.

Maybe he doesn't know it, but he ruined your life. You couldn't stop thinking about him anymore. And you don't know what you're going to do to make this situation better.

© heartforbangtan 2024. All rights reserved.

[rose-tinted-kalopsia]

≡;-꒰ 𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐄 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I 𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌 𝒎𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎

╰┈➤ ❝ luke x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni | kinktober '24 (backlog)

tags : pwp (without plot), cuddle fucking, grinding, morning sex, vaginal sex, slight tickling, teasing, clit play, a liiittle bit of feelings addressed but it's mostly ambiguous, praise, mostly really just soft giggly sex, use of pet names "baby" "pretty girl" "pretty baby". lmk if i missed any tags!

wc : 1.5k

an : I ACTUALLY DID MAKE IT TO TWO FICS TODAY and it's like. i know that it's About Time that i've finally written a solo fic for luke (sorry baby i know i've been neglecting you a lil 😭).... and this actually kind of made me love him extra :(

taglist : under the cut !! (SIGN UP HERE)

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST / KO-FI JAR / COMMISSIONS

Morning-afters with him aren't so bad.

"Mmm… Morning, baby~"

Arms snaked over your side, your back pressed firmly against his chest as he pulled you in closer. His breath was hot against your skin, head resting lazily into the crook of your neck. And though his voice was still rough, very obviously still fighting off the remnants of his sleepiness, he seemed to have enough energy to give you a squeeze.

It did well to wake you up.

With a quiet laugh, you tilted your head. "G'morning, Luke." Your eyes closed as you nuzzled against his nose, feeling his own quiet chuckle tickling against your lips. "Sleep well?" you murmured.

"Mm."

His only reply.

It was almost odd to have him so quiet; now and again he'd be chattering along and filling your ears with only his voice. There was rarely ever a minute you'd go without hearing it; you'd become used to it by now.

Yet this time, he could only pepper your face with little kisses, almost as if still trying to process the fact that you were, in fact, right here in his arms.

"I'm real, you know," you rolled your eyes playfully. "What's gotten into you?"

"Mmh, c'monnnn. What, I can't kiss the pretty girl in my arms?"

Butterfly kisses continued, light and fluttering as they would be. Over your eyes, your nose, your cheek, your chin, your lips—they barely lasted a second before they moved elsewhere, and your quiet laughs soon turned into a little fit of giggles.

"Hey! Not when it tickles!"

You'd both opened your eyes to lock onto each other's, and somehow, immediately you felt yourself regretting that statement.

"Ooh, it tickles?"

He was smirking.

"…Nope! Not at all! I don't know what you're—"

He cut you off this time by brushing his fingers over the bare skin of your stomach, and you squeaked.

The smirk on his face had since grown into a satisfied grin.

"Luukeee!" you whined, to no avail—

"Nuh-uh! No take-backsies!"

Another squeal fell from your lips as his hands roamed your body, poking at your sides and purely enjoying the way you erupted in laughter. "Luke!" you cried out, thrashing in his arms. "Hey! Hey, sto—ahahahaha! Stop it!! You goon, you—!"

He had the audacity to shut you up with a kiss, sacrificing the tickling in favor of tilting your head back to lock his lips with yours. And, ironically enough—in a manner so typical of Luke—it felt as if such tender kisses were a stark contrast from what he'd just been doing.

When he pulled back, he snuggled into the crook of your neck, and you panted for air.

"Idiot…" you huffed.

"Aww, you love it!" He laughed into your skin, drawing you as close to him as possible. There was a beat; a pause, and then he spoke again. "Mmh, hey, baby… Confession?"

You felt your eyebrows shoot up. It wasn't necessarily that his tone had turned serious, but moments like these were quite rare from him.

"What's there to confess?" you reached over to lace your hands together.

Another quiet laugh.

"Ah, well… Kinda maybe had a dream of you…"

A smile poked at your lips.

"Of me?"

"Mhm, of us."

This time, his hand moved to your hip as he pulled you flush against him, grinding into you just enough to slip between your thighs. "…Of last night."

You could tell that he was sincere, if his hard length rubbing against your thighs wasn't enough proof for you. He was warm, and throbbing—you couldn't help but turn to flash him a grin, tapping the tip of his nose. "Awww, Luke. You missed me in your sleep?"

He huffed.

"Pretty girl, after last night? Ha, I think I'd miss you all the time."

Whether it was to pay back the tease in your voice or as a means to get you just as riled up as he was, you felt his fingers trail down to circle around your clit, and your laughter easily turned into another squeal.

With your hips jolting at the contact, you lightly smack on his arm. "Luke!"

"Whaaatt?"

It was his turn to grin, and you felt it in the way he kissed you. Still light, still tender—but the corners of his lips lifted up, and you nearly gasped into him as he finally grazed over your silky wet cunt. Soft, gentle strokes worked to gather up your wetness, easily turning you into a sticky mess for him.

He was so good at making you need him.

Your hips bucked into his hand, thighs sliding over his length to give him equal stimulation. He groaned into the kiss—you affected him just as much as he did you—but it was obvious that he was still fighting down a laugh.

A laugh.

"Acting like you're all that, but look at you being so needy f'me~" he taunted. His petting through your folds continued, free hand raking up your sides again to tickle you—because for him having started this by being the needy one, he was certainly having his fun playing.

Your eyes nearly rolled back in your head when he played with your clit, laughter tinged with delirium. His fingers slid the moisture up to your bud, tracing tiny circles around the bead that had you fisting your hands into the covers, and taking tiny, gasping breaths.

"Hnng—Luke, baby, come on—" you moan helplessly beneath his touch, trying to find the balance between the giggles that tried to surface, and the sounds of pleasure you couldn't stop. "Ugh, it's your fault! When you touch me this good, what else do you think would happen?!"

"Hmm? I dunnooo, but I was counting on this for sure…"

He laughed at your expense—as he often did—before leaning in to kiss lightly at your jaw. "C'mon, baby. You're pretty... So so pretty. Help me out? Pleaseeee?"

His words of resignation did not match the snicker that fell out as the tip of his finger dipped teasingly into your hole… before pulling out.

"Luke!"

"Whaatt~? What do you want me to do, then?"

Another light smack at his arm, and his shoulders shook from laughter as he brought his hand away from you and up to his lips. Quick licks brought the taste of you on his tongue, and he let out a satisfied smile. "Mmm, the best ever."

You rolled your eyes.

"Luke. If you don't fuck me right this seco—"

Your body jolted.

Strategically, or not quite strategically, he'd thrust himself from between your legs and grazed the tip at your clit.

A groan resounded in your ear as he repeated the motions, getting your wetness to coat his dick, leaning down to take in the scent of your skin. "M'gonna, just, wait a sec…"

Despite yourself, you laughed, pushing against him. Your breathing shallowed as the pleasure only worked to make you wetter, but the ridiculousness of this situation meant you couldn't help it. And laughter would be as contagious as it ever was—despite his movements not particularly stopping, you felt him start laughing with you.

"You, pffft— You wanted to get me in the mood, and now you're telling me to wait?! Be so for real, Luke."

"Wh—as if it's entirely my fault! Pretty baby, I could be between your legs for hours—"

"Shut! C'mon, just put it in!"

You almost had half a mind to straddle him yourself and take matters into your own hands, but in the state you were in—shaking with laughter, almost numb from shortness of breath—there was no way you could overpower him enough to do so.

Thankfully, with a roll of his eyes, he reached down to position himself properly before he finally thrust inside of you.

Immediately your giggles shifted into a moan, and you gasped when his hand moved up to toy with your breasts.

"There we go… attagirl…" he mumbled, already panting as much as you were.

Yet he stayed soft, and slow.

Unlike last night, his thrusts this time were a little lazy; rhythmic in a way that was almost relaxing to you.

As the laughter died down, you leaned back into his chest, tilting your head back so you could see him.

He smiled.

"Sheesh… you're so fucking pretty."

"Mhm? Your pretty girl?" you grinned, and he moaned, thrusting particularly deep to have you gasp in return.

"Hell yeah. My pretty baby."

And then his lips were on yours, hips still gently fucking into you, fingers intertwined as he insisted to feel connected to you as much as he possibly could.

He was so silly, Luke. A menace, whether you liked it or not (though you did). But when it came to things like this… he was always the sweetest, most loving person that you've ever seen.

Praises whispered against your lips as he refused to part, and you thought to yourself… If you could wake up next to him like this every day, things really wouldn't be too bad at all.

"Mm… You just got so tight around me, baby. Relax, what're you thinking?"

You huffed in response. "Not of your concern."

"No?"

"No."

"But you feel so good, pretty girl… Is that it? Do you like that?" He grinned in your ear as he angled his hips, thrusting up to graze against your g-spot.

"Fuck—"

"Yeah, exactly what I'm trying to do here."

"Luke!"

You hit his arm for the nth time that morning, but you didn't stop the smile from forming on your face.

Yep. Not bad at all.

taglist! @interstellar-inn @pixelcafe-network @hunters-association @ononpetitecroissant @darlingdummycassandra @milkandstarlight @thoupenguinman @valyvinny @rafayelsheart @jellyroom2 @chemiru @ywnzn @love-and-deepstrays @theanbitchless @m2ichaelis @keioxo

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[blackswallowtailbutterfly]

I...don't know why the order of my tags fucked up, but I fixed them. Hopefully.

I feel like in the rush of “throw out etiquette who cares what fork you use or who gets introduced first” we actually lost a lot of social scripts that the younger generations are floundering without.

[seventh-district]

Could've left me just the way you found me, but you came and put your wings around me. You went out of your way, to fix what you didn't break.

This song is so incredibly Sam & Darlin' coded and no one can tell me otherwise.

[lots of lyrical analysis below the cut] [there's also a short little fanfic blurb of them stargazing down there too (this post got really out of hand lmao)]

For those not fully caught up, note that the following commentary contains various spoilers for Sam and Darlin's stories.

Note: Unfortunately this song is gendered, using the word 'girl' several times. Which sucks a little bit for immersion purposes, not only for keeping Darlin' gender-neutral, but also because I see this song as a duet between them, and Darlin' obviously wouldn't be addressing Sam with the word 'girl' either. So! As with most songs on their playlist, we're just gonna mentally omit any gendered terms we come across.

Side note: Frustratingly, this is one of those songs that didn't really even need to gender the subject in the first place. No part of the story or message is lost without it. But alas, many songs are like that, and so the playlist-makers of the world shall continue to suffer. [/lh]

Anyways, preamble's over. It's lyric time now yay!

Sam's Part

I was a ten-year train wreck

Technically for Sam I suppose it was 13 years, but ten is close enough (and 'ten' admittedly flows a lot better in the rhythm of the song than 'thirteen' would.) Anyways, we're not here to split hairs, (I have to remind myself), we're just here to point out similarities.

In Sam's Dec. '22 HBW, he says "For the last 13 years or so I haven't had to care too much about how I look. Seemed a little redundant after turnin', considerin' I didn't wanna be around much'a anybody anyway."

I think he's mentioned or alluded to that roughly 13 year period of time more than once, but that's the one I remember best so it's the example I'm using. There's still about 4 Sam audios I've yet to listen to as of making this post, so if I'm missing some Key Lore I'll edit this later. But for now, I don't think Sam has given many specifics on exactly how bad things got during that time. Luckily, 'train wreck' is a pretty broad and subjective term, so it easily covers any degree to which he may have fallen apart during those years.

It also feels like a very 'him' way of quickly brushing over the details of his past/his hurt, as he seems to tend to do with Darlin', (not all the time ofc but it's still something I've noticed) putting his own hurt on the backburner to prioritize and attend to theirs. Even outside of his dynamic with them, I think as a healer, it's something he learned to do. And now he does it with everyone. Put on a brave face, compartmentalize things and unpack them later, etc. I could go on and on but there'll be time for that in other posts I'm sure. For now, lets get back to the song at hand.

With a last-call longneck

Due to personal reasons, I've yet to decide if I want to HC him as having used alcohol as a coping mechanism during that time. I don't recall him having mentioned alcohol much, if at all, (maybe one mention of whiskey that I don't have time to find right now) so I don't think it's necessarily canon that he did, but it's certainly possible. My personal preferences aside, I'll admit it makes for some good additional angst. (And- self-indulgently- it makes some other songs on my playlist for them more fitting.) So, for the sake of this song, let's imagine that he did.

I was searchin', I'd been hurt real bad

This one feels pretty self-explanatory given what Alexis did, (and, if you wanna get even angstier with it, whatever his family did earlier on in his life) so there isn't much commentary to add on my end.

I HC that in spite of 'not wanting to be around anybody', he- like Darlin- still had a tiny part of himself buried deep down that was, in a way, 'searching' for someone to find solace in. (No this isn't me projecting onto them both haha what are you talking about-)

Movin' on, gettin' sidetracked One step forward and five back

This is generally applicable enough that I don't feel the need to give too much of a specific example. Anyone who's recovered or is recovering from trauma knows this non-linear, back-and-forth struggle well already, and I'm sure he was no stranger to it.

If I were to give some examples though, I could point to Darlin's (and subsequently, Sam's) encounter with Alexis at the summit, or the shit that Quinn dredged up about Fredrick and threw at Sam in the interrogation room. Those are both more recent examples and I imagine these lines of the song to be coming from a place of him prior to meeting Darlin', but still, they're some instances where I'm sure he felt like the past was pulling him back in. I'm sure that there's been many throughout those 13 years that we were never witness to.

Not your fault, I was scared to fall

This line reminds me of their 'Cuddles and Confessions' audio. I don't think he ever explicitly said he was 'scared' per se, so afaik there's no specific line I can quote, but in that and every audio prior, he was obviously hesitant to admit, perhaps even to himself, that he was gradually falling for them. Even after the initial confession, there's certain limits of his (e.g. biting) that he carries for far longer, and some that I (and others) HC that he'll carry forever. So this line feels to me like him reassuring Darlin' that his reluctance isn't the fault of them, but his past.

Darlin's Part

You were the star in the pitch black Shine the way on the way back

We don't have any canon instances of them comparing Sam to a star, but I can see it being something they'd say (perhaps less poetically, but the sentiment would be there) one night while laying up on their roof watching the stars with him. Maybe they're dead-tired, talking nonsense with lidded eyes at the end of a long day, fighting sleep in favor of more time spent with him.

"What- what're you pointin' at Darlin'?"

Their hazy focus is trained on the brightest star visible in their line of sight, arm stretched out to the sky above them. "That really bright one, to the... to the left."

Sam does his best to follow their less-than-specific directions of 'to the left', their pointed finger doing little to help given the difference in perspective. Luckily, after all these years, he knows this stretch of night sky like the back of his hand, so it isn't hard to locate the brightest one. Ghosting his fingers up along their arm, he takes their hand in his and brings it back down to earth. "Okay, yeah, I see it now. What about it though?"

"That's you." They say, matter-of-factly.

"That's me?" He questions, humor in his tone.

"Mhm." They nod with finality, blinking slow.

Sam considers the odd statement for a moment before gently correcting them. "I'm uh, I'm pretty sure that's Sirius, actually."

They scoff. "I am being serious."

Sam stifles a laugh into their hair. "No- no I mean- like... what's another name for it... Oh! It's also called the Dog Star."

"C'mon Sam, at least call it the Wolf Star if you're trying to turn this around on me..."

He shakes his head and readies himself to explain further, but they cut him off before he can start. "But no- no, this one isn't about me. That's you."

He decides to play along, finding something endearing in their overtired nonsense. "Okay... then would'ja be so kind as to explain to this confused old man just how, or why that star is me?"

Their frown is audible in their voice as they latch onto the wrong part of his sentence. "You're not old, Sam. ...Do I need to tell Asher to kick the jokes down a notch?"

He smiles at their over-protectivity. "There'll be no need for that, now. Was just a joke, darlin', I promise."

They huff, but thankfully shift focus back to the prior topic. "It's... I dunno. It's just you, Sam. It's... bright. Light. Something warm, out there in the cold dark. Standing out amongst all the rest. Calling to me, stealing my attention. I... I didn't come out here looking for it, but there it is. ...There you were. In the dark. The only bright thing I'd seen in... fuck, in years. Years of chasing fleeting warmth, tripping over myself in the pitch black, falling into... places 'n people I shouldn't have. You were the light in that darkness. Even there, surrounded by the ghost of him. You outshone it. Your warmth didn't hurt. I didn't have to squint when I looked at you. You weren't the blinding sun. You were the brightest star I'd ever seen. You guided me back home."

In the back of their mind, they recall something they once heard, something about light, and time, and distance. Space. Something about... how you can see a star that's already burnt out, because it's light hasn't reached earth yet. The ghost of a star that's already died. Only still perceptible thanks to time, and distance.

They remember Sam's words, once whispered to them on this very roof.

"Whatever your choice is... I'm not gonna live forever. I made that decision a long time ago."

They think about dead stars.

They think about time.

"...-lin'? Darlin'?" Sam's calloused hand slides up their forearm, pulling them out of their thoughts. "There you are. Think I lost ya' for a minute there... you good?"

They look up at Sam, concern creasing his features, shadows cast across his face from the light of the dying stars above him.

They reach out, pulling him down into them. Burying their face into his collar, Sam's concern grows when he feels it saturate with tears. A human might struggle to hear their words, muffled against the thick fabric, but his hearing catches it just fine.

"Don't burn out too quick. Please. I still need you here. I don't- I don't wanna be left in the dark again. Please, please Sam. Don't leave me here. I'm not selfish enough to ask you for forever, but please. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet."

.......Whoopsies! Really, genuinely didn't mean to improv an entire scene there, good god. Also didn't mean to swerve hard into angst at the end but uh. that's what came out! so I'm rolling with it lmao. Aaanyways let's move on, it's getting late and this is a song analysis post, not a fic.

Out of nowhere, answered all my prayers

'Out of nowhere' reminds me of Sam's words from the same HBW video I referenced earlier. "You came into my life like a damn wreckin' ball. There was no preparing for that, clothing or otherwise." While those were Sam's words, not Darlin's, I still feel like they feel similarly to how suddenly Sam came into their life as well. (Not in a bad way, mind you!)

[the significance of 'answered all my prayers' edges into my own personal more headcanon-y/personal/OC-ified Darlin' territory, so we can just gloss over this one for the sake of at least attempting to keep this more universally applicable]

Picked up the towel that I threw in Took in a heart that was ruined

Again, largely self-explanatory I feel. (*proceeds to explain anyways*) I imagine that Darlin' was at the point of throwing in the towel, hellbent on a solo-mission to find Quinn regardless of the danger it posed to them. I doubt they were looking toward the future anymore, (to reference Sam,) fully willing to throw themself at their problems until they really did break.

The specific use of 'ruined' hits hard here, because after everything they went through with Quinn, and especially after he recounted it all to Sam in that interrogation room, I imagine that they really, truly did feel ruined.

Showed me the past ain't a tattoo Loved me even when you didn't have to

These lines in particular make me sick with emotion every time I hear this song, because I feel like they hit the nail on the head for how Darlin' feels.

I'll be here citing various quotes all night that I feel showcase that sentiment, but we don't have time for that! So instead I'm just pointing to the entirety of 'Quinn's Aftermath' video, and leaving you with this single quote from it.

"Everything that he said reflects nothin' on you, and everything on him."

Equally Applicable Lines

And I don't know why Why you saw something in me, baby But you saw right through All the pain, and you came and saved me Yeah, I know you didn't leave me lonely Weren't the one that put the heartbreak on me Picked up the pieces It wasn't the mess that you made Could've left me just the way you found me But you came and put your wings around me You went out of your way To fix what you didn't break

Again, I think these lines are all pretty self-explanatory, and are just as accurate coming from either one of them. To me, at least, their entire dynamic is that they saved each other, in their own ways.

(But I will admit, the final verses about 'going out of your way to fix what you didn't break' are definitely conjuring up memories of Sam in the early days, literally going out of his way to visit and heal Darlin' after their fight with the two vamps. In general, his continued/repeated healing of them after they once again hurt themselves is the very literal definition of fixing what he didn't break.

But! While we may have more blatant examples of Sam being 'the fixer' so to speak, I think he'd argue that Darlin' has done plenty fixing of their own. Physical wounds aren't the only things that need healing, after all.)

-------

[shameless self-promo of my Sam & Darlin' playlist for those few of u interested enough to make it to the very end of this wall of text. if u liked this then u might like some of the other songs on there soooo maybe go check it out and maybe perhaps give it a follow so i can get a little serotonin boost or dopamine or whatever the chemical is that's released when Number Go Up. ...okay that's it i hope u enjoyed my fixation-induced ramblings! thank u and goodnight]

[noxtivagus]

evening has come again huh

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

Heylo my maggotsies... I'm sorry to do this but I have a thing that I really, really need to do (thank you Ash for helping me realise that) but I'm terrified to. so well. I'm going to make one of the posts (Neil reblogged me a couple of days ago so I feel pretty safe making one now since he only lurks by once in two weeks so this is as good a time as it gets to make a post and not expect many notes, yes I'm an overthinker and I'm actually scared of this getting notes).

Sigh. Here goes.

...I'm scared of even typing it.

Nope okay I can do this let's go.

If this post gets 1k notes, I'll look up jobs in design and film making that don't need a college degree.

2k notes, I'll sign up for an Alliance Francaise course so I can have another language on my CV, and I'll find a course that teaches me how to use design software.

5k, I'll look up distance learning alternatives, because just talking about physical college yesterday made me spend the whole morning and afternoon today in and out of nightmares screaming. Fuck.

10k, I'll tell my mum that I can't do the offline college. She's been talking to me about it, but I've been dodging because I'm not well-off and I really need to be earning and idk how to do that without college and I feel so guilty.

15k, I'll officially back out from the college (does that count as dropping out, if it hasn't begun? maybe half. i am a college and a half dropout, my 11th grade self would hate me and my 10th grade self would refuse to believe it).

I don't know what I'll do then. I don't know how to live as trans here in India, I don't know how to earn enough to be able to help my family, I don't know what I'm good at and I'm so fucking terrified. But. I spoke to @random-doctor-on-the-internet last night (I love you Ash you're such a fucking amazing human) and they made me realise that well maybe landing in a hospital with steroids to relieve an allergy attack because of exam stress isn't normal and so.

Well. Here I am. I know I can't do it, but I'm scared to risk everything, it's just not something people do here, dropping out. But also (TW s**cide statistics mentioned below the cut)... And so I've just. Got to do it, got to save myself and say no to college (cue say no to school, kids joke). Somehow be brave enough. And yeah.

To quote a financial express article: "In an alarming situation, a total of 7,62,648 suicides were reported in India between 2018 to 2022, Of this student suicides account for 7.6% at 59,239". Maybe if more people did say fuck you to the system here, that wouldn't be the case. That number could have been 59,240 (aside from everyone who wasn't counted and hushed up), that could have been me, and I don't want to put myself in that situation again. You know? Yeah.

[ariaste]

listen ok so i made some good jokes yesterday about Lestat having an onlyfans but i am back today with a new essay and this one is entitled

Why The Invention Of Social Media Is Going to Permanently Save Loustat's Fucking Marriage

come on this journey with me.

ok so on one hand we have Louis, who does not like to leave the house except when he absolutely fucking has to and even then he resents it. my man wants to be at home with a book 100% of the time and he's so fucking valid for that. When he leaves the house, bad things happen to him. He has learned this and honestly i can't fault his evidence. it sucks out there. it truly incredibly sucks out there.

the problem is that sometimes he is married to lestat, who starts clawing at the walls if people aren't paying attention to him for 12 consecutive seconds, and being Out Of The House is the best place for him to go foraging for People To Pay Attention To Him. my man once had a rock star career the way that some people get addicted to meth brewed in a trashcan in someone's garage. Louis, through no fault of his own, is simply not capable of filling this psychological need no matter how hard he tries, except he should not even HAVE to try like that, because no one can do it, because Lestat is fucked up and like wasn't hugged enough as a child or something

this imbalance in their relationship is the core source of all their marital problems since day 1: THIS man's idea of a good time is chilling on the sofa in silence and maybe staring contemplatively at the wall for a while, and THIS man starts self-destructing at a truly astonishing rate if no one is making eye contact with him. If you make Louis go outside and socialize with people, he's miserable and sulking and whining about "are we done can we go home". If you make Lestat sit in silence in a chair for five minutes he starts crying and claiming that No One Has Ever Loved Him, Ever, Ever, And No One Understands Him, And He Hates Everyone In This House and He Is Being Actively Neglected And Cruelly Mistreated Right Now And No One Even Bothers To Feel Sorry For Him, This Is BASICALLY Domestic Violence Against Him Personally, If Only Anyone Knew About The Quiet Hidden Tragedies Of An Unhappy Marriage, and then he breaks some furniture and a window and isn't seen again for six weeks and comes back like "you will not believe what just happened, i [checks notes] met Merlin and also a dragon who gave me three wishes, brb i'm going to write another book about it :))))"

all you fucking have to do to fix their problems is to hand Lestat a cellphone and say the words "do you know about social media? you can say whatever shit you want and there's always someone awake in some time zone to talk to you." Suddenly Lestat is now very interested in sitting quietly on the couch, Lounging Alluringly and posting thirst traps on instagram and finally getting emotional fulfillment from all the likes and comments of "omg???? omg this is the hottest man alive". he does not have to leave the house anymore to get his attention meth. His yawning abyss of neediness is being fulfilled by having parasocial relationships with millions of strangers online who all think he's sexy and don't have to experience how fucking awful he is up close. he can flirt pointlessly with 200 people at once which is FINALLY ENOUGH FLIRTATIONS FOR HIM TO SATISFACTORILY JUGGLE

Meanwhile Louis is 3 feet away, vaguely reflecting to himself that HE is feeling all emotionally fulfilled because they're spending this great Quality Time together in perfect silence while he reads his book and Lestat plays on his cellular telephone and only OCCASIONALLY giggles to himself or says "louis which of these photos do you think is sexier, the one with four buttons undone or the one with five buttons undone" Louis is feeling like his Opinion is being Valued, Louis feels like he is being Consulted on Matters that are Important To Lestat. He has opinions about the photographs. It is not that much trouble to be interrupted from staring philosophically at the wall to spend five seconds looking at a photograph and then saying "that one". Finally he is experiencing Cozy Domesticity. he is so horny about it. lestat is surprised and bewildered about the sudden sharp increase in the amount of sex he is now getting but before he can make any vaguely mean comments about it (bc he's confused and vaguely defensive and worried that it's going to stop out of nowhere and he doesn't know any other interpersonal skills for expressing a thought) his phone pings about how he's just broken 5 million followers on instagram and he totally forgets to even mention the sex thing, which means that he continues getting the sex instead of inciting an argument about the sex and going through his 800th divorce from Louis

all their friends are extremely confused when a whole month, and then six months, and then a year goes by without another Loud Divorce happening and no one crashing through their front door like "I HAVE TO SLEEP IN YOUR GUEST COFFIN FOR THE NEXT MONTH, HE IS INTOLERABLE". They are worried. they are concerned. what is going on over there. are they both dead. no, they can't both be dead, Lestat just posted another tiktok of him sucking on his own fingers, which he would not be doing if Louis were dead. there is an ecosystem collapse happening in the groupchat and it's because the main Drama Vectors have been neutralized

[nereidprinc3ss]

pretty little things

in which you can't keep hiding your stuffed animals from your boyfriend. spencer would like a formal introduction.

fluff! warnings/tags: gn!reader I think, newish established relationship, they're so cute, reader is still kinda shy around him, I'm really obsessed with this dynamic actually, implied intimacy if you decide to interpret it that way, kissing/maybe mildly suggestive a/n: this is dedicated to my friends @parfaitblogs and @gublersg1rl bc in another universe we are actually just three jellycat plushies on someone's bed which is where the inspo for this little thing came from. and thank u willow for naming your fox. ok bye love u hope u enjoy !! :D

The first time you’d shown Spencer your room, and the handful of times he’s been in it since, you very intentionally hid your stuffed animals underneath the bed. After all, you’re an adult. You have a grown up job. And you don’t need him thinking you’re some kind of freak this early into the relationship. You like him too much. 

Today, however—you didn’t have any warning. He comes over unannounced, which is all well and good, until you bring him to your bedroom so he can sit on the bed while you change from work clothes into something comfier for movie night. As soon as you open the bedroom door, you see them, lined up neatly by your pillow, and you know it’s too late. 

“Uh…”

Spencer runs into your back and takes it as an excuse to settle his hands on your hips as he peers over your shoulder. 

“What?”

You slip out of his easy hold and skitter to your bed, practically throwing yourself on the mattress and sitting unnaturally as the little beaded eyes of your friends dig into your back. Even your brightest smile doesn’t distract Spencer. He’s like a bloodhound for the truth. At least, that’s the sense you’re beginning to get. 

“What are you doing?” He tries again, eyes narrowed and closing the door carefully behind him. 

“Nothing!”

The urgency with which you say it has his eyebrows raising. Obviously delighted by the embarrassing secret he’s sure to uncover, he approaches. You lean back further even as he towers over you until you’re almost on your back and he’s folded over you, menacingly (and dizzyingly) close. This sort of position is still new-ish and has your heart pounding, even if it’s entirely playful and ostensibly innocent. 

“Nothing? Are you sure?”

You nod, still shying away from him into the pile of pillows. Without looking he reaches under you and pulls out your pink bunny. You squeak and hide your face. 

“What is this?” He laughs, and you yank it away, sitting up so he’s forced to give you some breathing room. The bunny is cradled protectively in your arms, though you try to hold it a bit more casually when you notice. 

“I said it’s nothing.”

“What about the other two behind you? The fox and the… what is that? A deer?”

“No—”

“I didn’t even know they made deer stuffed animals—”

“Spencer, stop!”

He does, at the desperate tone of voice and the way you’re still hiding from him. 

“No, no! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to tease you. Don’t be embarrassed. I’m sorry.”

As usual he’s over apologetic, now sitting knee to knee with you on the mattress and leaning down to try and catch your eye. You huff and grant him some eye contact just so he doesn’t go over the edge with worry. 

“But it’s embarrassing.”

“No, it’s really not,” he laughs. “It’s cute. I can’t believe you’ve been—what, hiding them from me? This whole time? That’s like not telling me you have kids.”

“It is not like that.”

“Hm. I don’t know, I think you should probably introduce me.”

You give him a look, letting your head fall to your shoulder. “Spencer.”

“I’m serious. I’m going to be apart of their lives now. You can’t keep shoving them under the bed every time I stay the night.”

This nerd is going to be the death of you. 

Eventually, you groan reluctantly. 

“Fine. Okay, um—this one is… well—her name is Bunny. It’s not… very creative, but it’s—that’s just her name, okay?”

Spencer doesn’t react to your unjustified defensiveness—only grabs your bunny’s round little pink paw and shakes. “Enchanted.”

“Shut up.” Your face is so hot as you bury your smile and set Bunny aside, making sure she’s comfortable against the pillow before bringing out your deer. Spencer doesn’t have the shit-eating grin you were partially expecting when you glance up at him from beneath your lashes—he’s smiling, but it’s so soft. A little twisted, like he’s holding back the full extent of it for your sake. But you wouldn’t mind it at full power. It’s like he’s hiding the sun in a saucepan and the lid’s not on quite right. And he’s looking right at you. Like you’re the source of all his joy. 

A moment passes. You clear your throat and look back down. “Um—this is Bambi. ’Cause—you know.”

“I do,” Spencer agrees genially, nodding as if this were a normal conversation. “Kind of a dark thing to name your deer, though.”

“You’re judging,” you accuse balefully. He chuckles and his hand finds your knee, rubbing apologetically. 

“I’m not, I’m not! I take it back. I retract it. Continue, please.”

For a moment you only pout, but it doesn’t deter him—he simply looks at you expectantly, and now those syrupy eyes come with the added bonus of his hand on your leg. Fine. He wins. But not without a deep, tortured sigh from you while you’re grabbing your fox that makes the corner of his mouth twitch up. 

“This one is…”

The name dies on your tongue, too ridiculous to be said out loud. 

“Tell me,” Spencer pleads in that gentle voice and with those big eyes that you’d consider burning him at the stake for because that look on his face has to be witchcraft. 

“Okay but you can’t laugh,” you insist in one quick breath, giving him a serious look that he can only partially reciprocate. 

“No laughing.”

“It’s… Mr. Cuddles.”Spencer bites the inside of his cheek to keep his promise. You melt inside both from embarrassment and from the way it only further defines an already superbly sculpted bone structure. “Do not.”

Spencer scoffs at your warning. “Don’t what? I’m behaving.”

“Don’t make fun of Mr. Cuddles!”

“Does it look like I’m making fun of him?”

“Her.”

“What?”

“Her. Mr. Cuddles is a girl.”

“I see… can you explain that to me?”

“If a human person said I am a girl and I would like you to call me Mister, would you question that? Would you ask them to explain it to you?”

“I guess not.”

“Exactly. Don’t be rude.”The way Spencer is looking at you now, eyes so clear and still so full of affection, like you’ve got some sort of heavenly spotlight trained on you, lips parted as if to say something but still silent, has you forgetting your momentary confidence. You shrink. “What?”

“I just… you’re amazing.” You throw Mr. Cuddles at his chest and fall into your pile of pillows with a groan. Spencer only continues rubbing your leg. It’s very nice, actually. He’s gentle. And patient. “You don’t believe me?”

“I don’t believe you came to this conclusion just because I introduced you to my stuffed animals.”

“Not solely because of that. There are a lot of contributing factors. I mean, the stuffed animal thing helped.”

“It’s embarrassing,” you insist for the umpteenth time. 

“It’s adorable.”

Spencer pushes pillows aside and lies next to you so you’re eye to eye. It’s nice how his presence isn’t exhausting the way people sometimes are. He’s easy to exist with. He makes you enjoy existing a little more than usual. Even now. 

You raise your eyebrows and speak, cheek squished against fabric. “I’m a serious adult.”

“I know you are,” he assures with a solemn nod. 

Your eyes narrow ever so slightly. 

“Okay… well… don’t go forgetting that. I’m fun but I can also be not fun.”

“I’d love to see that.”

“No you wouldn’t. You would hate it. You’d be so scared.”

Spencer gives up on holding back a smile and moves his hand to tuck hair behind your ear. 

“You’re right. I’m already terrified. The anticipation… it’s killing me, you know?”

You’re giggling as you roll over on top of him and he roots his hand in your hair, pulling you in for a long, smiley kiss like he knew it was coming. Only when he blindly throws your stuffed friends from the bed do you pull away—just by an inch or so. 

“No respect,” you scold playfully. He kisses you again, tangling your legs and hands wandering. 

“Can I apologize later?”

You’re good with that. 

[witchywcmans]

FORBIDDEN FRUIT. | LAIOS TOUDEN

synopsis ━━ laios can't seem to get enough after he first tastes you. but the lines in your friendship are beginning to blur. it's only when your party happens upon your ex-lover in the dungeon that laios realizes what he should've communicated all along. (laios x f!reader.)

content warnings ━━ cunnilingus, praise, size kink, jealousy, classic missionary, unprotected sex, creampie, mutual pining/confession, laios and reader are not good with communication (but they work it out v well), laios is self concious but reader is so kind to him !!, monster facts as dirty talk. nsfw (minors + ageless blogs dni).

word count ━━ 4.8k

song inspiration ━━ awkward, sza / cherry, lana del rey / hunger, florence + the machine

author's note ━━ TECHNICALLY, this could be a part 2 to please, eat, so I'm just going to link as a part 2. you don't have to read please, eat before this, but if you like laios then obvi you should read it anyway!! I'm SO SORRY it took me so long to post another laios x reader 😭 I was trying to finish the manga before I wrote something else dungeon meshi-related, but life gets the way. oh well. also, this might be controversial, but in this fic I’m refuting the “laios is a virgin” allegations. SUE ME. I simply don’t believe he’s been adventuring so long and hasn’t been with anyone, that is crazzzy to me !! but that's just me 🤗 we all have our fave headcanons! my goal when I finish the manga is to write something for laios at the end of the story hehe. I hope you guys enjoy part 2! this one-shot is dedicated to @satoogojos 🫶

🪽 part i: PLEASE, EAT. / part ii: FORBIDDEN FRUIT. / part iii: TOO SWEET.

Catching feelings for your friend was truly a fickle thing. But you guessed it was bound to happen with what you and Laios were doing behind everyone’s back. Each night, after your party tucked themselves in their bedrolls, Laios would so delicately lace your arm through his and you two would find a private area … before he completely buried his face between your thighs.

He was fixated on the way you tasted, the way he could get you to cum so easily on his tongue. You were the only dessert he wanted after every dinner. Some nights, he would have you writhing from overstimulation, but he just wanted more of you – so much more.

It was a little confusing, though, how he didn’t ask for anything in return. Laios seemed to grind against the cold, dungeon floor as his tongue lapped at your essence, sometimes cumming in his pants and moaning between your legs. Or he would politely excuse himself after he was done, taking care of himself as you cleaned yourself up. You didn’t quite understand it, and maybe neither did he. You both were just too awkward to broach the subject.

The incident with the sea serpent had changed your friendship forever. Not only did Laios save you from becoming one, but the intimacy you both now shared seemed to open you up more. You found yourself divulging more secrets to him, leaning on him when you needed someone, even being more impartial to Senshi’s monster meals. And you liked the way he smiled, how he looked at you. You liked how fearless he was. You liked how protective he was over the party, especially you. You … really liked him. Far more than a crush. In fact, you wished you could go back in time and just have a crush. But your feelings for him became deeper as you crept lower and lower into the dungeon together. Your goal was still to come out of this dungeon alive, but now … you hoped that you would make it out alive together.

What a foolish girl you had become.

You tried to remain focused on the path ahead of you, but you were clearly lost in thought today. The party had reached floor 6, which meant you were closer and closer to the deepest part of the dungeon and hopefully rescuing Laios’ sister, Falin. The last thing you expected to see on floor 6 were other adventurers, let alone your ex.

You were hesitant to call him an ex, since you two had never really been anything but a warm body in each other’s beds while living on the surface. But when your bodies collided and your eyes met his, you realized why you had taken a liking to him in the first place. He had been a butcher’s son, handy with an axe, and you had liked his big, strong hands. You almost fell right into him from the slippery dungeon floor, but those strong hands seemed to catch you like you were made of air. “It’s you,” he chuckled, setting you up straight and tucking a stray hair behind your ear. “Look at you … feels like it was just yesterday when we were on the surface, huh?”

Marcille looked like she didn’t want anything to do with your ex and his party, but Senshi was very kind to offer them food, if they needed it. Chilchuck seemed neutral, and Laios … you still couldn’t read Laios as easily as the rest of the party. He watched your ex like a hawk, standing behind you as if to protect you. Your ex’s hands were big, sure, but Laios was tall, his shoulders wide and intimidating even without the armor. Laios narrowed his eyes slightly whenever he saw your ex’s gaze roam over you, like he was undressing you with his eyes. And you weren’t sure if you caught it – it only lasted a second – but did Laios clench his hands into fists?

There wasn’t enough time in the world to dwell on it. Especially when you had ghosts seemingly pulling you into another area of the dungeon and waking up on a dirt path, a beautiful golden castle mounted ahead of you. Your party was initially confused, walking into the village and seeing monsters living harmoniously with humans. After becoming acquainted with the village, you and your friends were offered a warm, delicious meal with Yaad, the lord of the Golden Country. After Yaad explained the history of this village, you all were each given rooms to rest in for the night. The beds were small and cold, but far better than a bedroll.

You were used to Laios initiating with you every night, but by the time everyone went to sleep, he still didn’t call upon you. So you stood from your bed, adjusting the nightgown given to you, and walked across the hall to where Laios’ room was. You knocked on his door, and you heard the slip of a sword into a sheath behind the thin wood. He had been inspecting Kensuke for some reason, probably mulling over Yaad’s words. When he opened the door, he was dressed in loose pants and a linen shirt, droplets running down his neck. He must’ve just bathed. You couldn’t stop yourself from digging your nails into your palm.

“Can I come in?” You asked in a hushed voice, and he moved out of the way for you to step inside.

His room looked exactly like yours, but the sheets were ruffled from lack of sleep. Laios walked around you and sat on the edge of the bed, leaving you more confused than ever. You played with your hands as you stared at him, contemplating. “Is something wrong, Laios?” You inquired, stepping closer to him. “You’ve been acting weird even before we got here.”

His brow furrowed for a moment. “How do you figure?”

“Well, you …” Your tongue clicked. “You didn’t come to find me after everyone went to bed.”

He seemed to concede, shoulders dipping at your answer. Shifting on the mattress, he propped himself up against his pillows and moved Kensuke to lean against the wall. His silence was even more perplexing. This had to be the longest time Laios went without talking. He was a blabbermouth.

“I don’t understand,” you continued, walking over and sitting on the end of his bed. “Are you … are you angry with me?”

“No, no,” Laios was quick to reply, “I’m not angry with you. I’m just …”

You raised a brow, eager to hear his answer.

“That man you recognized. On floor 6,” he finally said, his fists clenching again at the memory. “I didn’t … I didn’t like the way he looked at you. And his tone. It was disrespectful to you. Unless I’m reading this all wrong.”

You were taken aback by his honesty. So he had been bothered by your ex. “Oh,” you replied, “well … me and him, we do have history, Laios. But it’s in the past.”

“I could tell.” He was picking at his nails now, any excuse not to meet your eyes. “Everyone has a life before the dungeon. It’s not about the past. I just … I didn’t like him. Or how he looked at you like … like he still wanted you. Or something.”

“Or something,” you repeated, nodding your head. A slow smile crept onto your lips at the realization. “Laios, are you jealous?”

His head jolted up, his eyes glued to his hands, searching for something unknown. Realization washed over his face, as if he hadn’t even considered this possibility. “Oh, gods,” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “This whole day I’ve been trying to reconcile with what I’m feeling and I knew I wasn’t mad at you – maybe just mad at the circumstances – and none of it made sense, but now …” He finally met your eyes, a chuckle slipping past his lips. “I was just jealous. How did I not realize?”

“Maybe because we didn’t talk about it,” you offered in a low voice, reaching out and lacing your fingers with his. A jolt of electricity ran through your fingertips and all the way up your arm. You wished you could hide your reaction, but it was clear as day, making Laios shift in his spot. “Laios, we should talk –”

“You’re not leaving the party, are you?” His grip on your fingers went tight, and he didn’t even realize it.

“No,” you laughed, scooting closer and running your free hand over his face. His cheeks flushed instantly when you touched him. “I think … we should talk about what’s happening between us.”

Laios’ gaze went narrow as he processed your words. “Oh,” he said blankly, and then his eyes went wide. “Oh.”

“I just … because we’ve been doing this every night … it’s hard not to feel …” You sighed, unable to get the words right. But he seemed to understand, quick-witted as ever, squeezing your hand in encouragement. And then he smiled at you, all dopey and kind, and your heart began to pound. “I can’t help but think that the lines are being blurred between us. My feelings for you are … much deeper than what they were initially. And if you don’t feel the same way, that’s okay. I needed you to know. I’m sorry if this hurts … whatever our relationship is.”

He was still smiling, his other hand gripping your waist, pulling you even closer. “Well, I think –”

“And now I can’t help but wonder if maybe – just maybe – you feel the same way,” you started rambling, terrified to know how he was going to reply. “Because why would you feel jealous if you didn’t … I shouldn’t make assumptions. But I still wondered. And I can’t stop talking. Again, I don’t want this to ruin anything and I’m sorry if it does. My ex doesn’t mean anything to me anymore and he won’t ever again –”

Out of nowhere, Laios used his upper body strength to flip you onto your back, pinning you to the bed. Now your cheeks were flushed, completely caught off guard by the action. He sat in between your legs, his fingers just brushing over your waist, as he said, “I do. Feel the same. I feel like I’m the one who could’ve ruined this because I didn’t realize it sooner.”

You gave him a sad smile, reaching up to cup his chin. “You couldn’t ruin anything.”

He leaned into your palm when your hand moved to his cheek, humming under his breath. He then leaned down, his body just barely pressing against yours, as if he craved your body heat. Like a moth to a flame.

“Can we not talk about your ex ever again?” He muttered, his hands running up and down your sides. “Because when I saw him today, all I could think about was …” He stopped himself abruptly.

“What?” Your curiosity peaked.

“I’m going to sound like a jealous brute,” he sighed dramatically, nose brushing against yours as his hands moved higher, thumbs grazing over the underside of your breasts. The material of your nightgown was so thin that your peaked nipples were already visible. “I just … couldn’t stop thinking about all the times I’ve tasted you that he hasn’t. I wondered if he knew exactly how you liked it, which places made those funny sounds come out of your mouth. And then, I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and all I wanted this whole day was to get you alone.”

You shuddered when his thumb brushed over one of your taut nipples, making your heel run down the back of his leg. His words alone made tingles run down your spine, but the second his hands were on you, you were properly soaked. The both of you lay there for a moment: him on top of you, nuzzling your nose, rolling his fingers over your nipples through your nightgown, eliciting breath hitches from your lips.

It was so slow, so patient, so good, but had you wanting more. And you couldn’t stop the words coming out when you blurted, “I want to have sex.”

He paused, opening his eyes for a moment, making sure he heard you properly.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you said quickly, feeling awkward. But why were you so shy all of a sudden? It’s not like he didn’t have his tongue deep inside your pussy every night. Maybe it was because there was a question still lying underneath the surface. “Why ... why don’t you want me to help you finish after you eat me out? Sometimes you just … walk away to take care of yourself.”

Laios’ face went bright red, and then he buried his face in your neck. “I’m so embarrassed.”

Your hand pushed back his cropped, blonde hair, trying to soothe his racing heart. “Why are you embarrassed?”

“Because it’s … it’s big,” he sighed and lifted his head. “There. I said it. It’s just big. And the last person who saw it made me feel super self-conscious about it.”

You couldn’t help but snort. “You’re embarrassed because you have a big dick?”

His pretty golden eyes were serious, but it looked like he wanted to laugh with you. “Please, don’t make it sound trivial.”

“It’s not trivial, it’s just …” You went to cup both his cheeks. The way he looked at you was unlike anything you ever experienced. You wondered why it took you so long to realize he felt the same. “I would never make you feel self-conscious about anything. I like everything about you, Laios.”

Your words had him melting, leaning back down into you and kissing you slowly. It was only when his tongue slipped into your mouth that his hand snaked down between your legs, just cupping your soaked entrance, the one thing he loved to eat more cheesecake. Realizing that you weren’t wearing any underwear had him reeling. “Gods …” He moaned into the kiss, his fingers simply running down your soaked folds.

As his lips broke away from yours, you asked in a tone as sweet as barometz, “Do you want to have sex, Laios?”

“Yes,” he replied, voice desperate. “Yes, please.”

Your hands went to the hem of his loose, linen shirt, breaking your kiss again to lift it over his head. For the first time, you were able to see what he looked like underneath all the armor. His shoulders were wide-set, his torso soft while also being oddly defined. Most tall-men your party encountered thought Laios was on the slender side, not believing how strong he was. But once your eyes beheld his biceps, you knew how wrong they all were. He was built and muscular and – gods, you could admire him for hours.

Laios stopped your hands from going any further, a pleading look in his eyes. He pushed your nightgown up and bunched it at the waist. “Can I taste you first?”

You nodded quickly, already intoxicated by the way he kissed you, the way he smiled at you, all eager and excited to bury his face in your pussy. It didn’t take him long; he was lightning fast, moving down your body and lifting your legs on his shoulders so he could eat you out easier. His tongue dove into your folds immediately, and he groaned at the first taste. You were acutely more aware every night that he could do this for hours, just lapping at you lazily, bringing you to orgasm over and over again. No monster compared to the way you tasted.

His nose bumped your clit as he tongued your leaking hole, practically whimpering at every drop of your wetness that reached his mouth. Large, calloused hands wrapped around your thighs, making sure they didn’t close and digging into your flesh. Your own hands fisted into the sheets, your ass lifted off the bed, but you could still grind your hips against his face. Soft whines left your lips, nothing compared to the groans Laios was making as he ate you like he didn’t have a three-course meal just an hour ago. You almost wondered if you should tell him to quiet down, afraid of the others hearing, but you were too lost in the pleasure to care.

It was clear to you the closer you got to reaching your peak that Laios wasn’t keen on stopping. And as much as you truly wanted to cum all over his tongue, you thought it was important that you both have this new experience together. It took you a few seconds to finally gather the courage to say something, his tongue feeling too good as he swirled it around your sensitive clit. “Laios,” you called, and then a little louder, “Laios.”

He lifted his head, your juices dripping down his chin. A primal urge made him want to dive back into you, but he controlled himself. His tongue licked at your essence around his mouth, and you shuddered at the sight.

“I want you inside me,” you whispered. “Is that okay?”

“Yes, yes,” he muttered hoarsely, placing your legs so delicately back on the bed, as if they were made of glass. “Of course.” He so desperately wanted to taste you again, but he was even more excited for this, to finally feel something other than his hand wrapped around his cock. You were the first person he ever tasted, but it had been quite a while since he was truly intimate with someone, to slide into someone and feel them clench around him.

As you tugged off your nightgown, Laios began to work at the ties of his pants. But his hands stopped as they came undone, glancing up at you with hesitation. You looked so pretty sitting in the middle of his bed, waiting for him, naked and vulnerable. He felt silly for feeling so self-conscious, especially when you were so beautiful like this.

“Laios,” you cooed, caressing his arm, “there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. And if you don’t want to, then we can stop.”

He almost choked on a laugh. “Trust me,” he replied, “I want to.”

After another beat of stalling, Laios finally stepped out of his bottoms and blushed pink from ear to ear. His cock was … well, it certainly was big. You sympathized with him; if anyone told you something about your body during sex, you would focus on that forever. But there was nothing for him to be embarrassed about. Truthfully, most males would kill to have what he did. His cock was thick and long, a few veins trailing down the shaft, curving up at his pretty red tip that was dripping with precum. You got even more wet just from staring at it, wondering what he would finally feel like inside of you. 

Your mouth opened to say something, anything to make him feel better, but he was already talking: “I need a distraction so I don’t think about you staring at it.” He crawled back onto the bed and between your thighs, immediately pressing his lips to yours. You could taste yourself still on his mouth, and your arms wound around his shoulders instantly. His teeth tugged at your bottom lip, and he asked, “Can I just … ramble about monster facts for a minute?”

You blinked, not expecting that. Laios released your lower lip and sighed, clearly still nervous. “It’ll help me get over this feeling. I swear. Or if you want to stop this, we can. I’ll … I’ll understand –”

“Laios,” you huffed, your mouth pulling back into a sweet smile, “I want you to do whatever makes you feel comfortable.”

“Oh, thank the gods,” he muttered, nuzzling his face back into your neck, placing sloppy kisses. “Did you know that … that harpies almost exclusively have the head of a female human and it is unknown if male harpies exist?”

His voice was muffled against your neck, but you could tell he was desperate and aching. You felt his hard length against your stomach, smearing precum on the exposed skin. “Really?” You breathed out, trying to engage with him but completely failing when he licked a stripe up your neck. A moan escaped your lips.

“There’s also … there’s, uh …” He was struggling to talk now, grasping his cock and giving it a few quick pumps before teasing the head against your dripping wet folds. Your legs instinctively opened wider for him, hoping to whatever gods were out there that you could take his cock. “There also exists a seabird variant of harpies called … called, Sirens. Their wings and  … their – their tail look like a seagull’s.”

You could hardly breathe as you asked, “What else, Laios?”

He began to push inside you slowly, letting you adjust with each inch. “Okay, okay … uh … bicorns … bicorns hate – oh, fuck.” Just the feeling of your tight warmth wrapped around his cock had him biting into your shoulder, like you were the forbidden fruit. He could hardly string together a word, could hardly think, as he sank deeper and deeper into you, his whole body shaking. “Bicorns hate … hate virtue. They prefer – shit – immorality. It is believed that … doing all seven deadly sins will … will allow an individual to approach a bicorn – fuck. Fuck. It feels –”

When he was finally buried to the hilt, all he could do was breathe into your neck. You whined, locking your legs around his waist. The stretch was unbelievable; your walls gripped him like a vice. But it was even better than you could’ve imagined. If you had thought originally that the night would go this way, you would’ve at least brushed your hair. Laios didn’t care though, inhaling the flowery scent as he nosed your pretty strands. You couldn’t even comprehend – whether it be from the stretch of his thick cock inside you or the overwhelming amount of butterflies in your stomach – how you were so lucky to have found him.

Not to mention, you felt even luckier that this wasn’t happening on a cold dungeon floor.

With one hand carding into his hair, you chuckled under your breath, “Had enough of reciting monster facts?”

“Mmhmm …” He groaned, unable to form a sentence. You finally felt him pull back before pushing into you in one fast, deep thrust, making you shiver. Your body was hardly used to feeling this full, but you wanted him so badly that it was humiliating, a pink blush tinting your nose. “You feel so good,” he muttered.

You pulled on his hair, and his head lifted from your neck. His lips were swollen from kissing you. Yours probably looked the same. But that didn’t matter right now as he held your gaze and began thrusting into you a little faster. His eyes were the color of melted gold, flecked with amber and brown, and you felt like you could stare into them forever while he fucked you. Laios lifted one of your legs higher on his waist, but his other hand stayed around your middle, keeping you nestled against him.

“Laios,” you whimpered, feeling him nudge your clit with each roll of his hips. Despite his desperation, his pace was tender and relaxed, making sure you were adjusting to his size. He knew he was big – clearly, it was something he’d been self-conscious about for a while – but the way you were looking at him right now … he’d never felt more at ease, more special. This was all he ever wanted: to be close to someone like this, to find intimacy with someone he had true feelings for. All the other times had been stepping stones, leading to this moment with you, where your warmth enveloped him so nicely and your gaze made him want to cum on the spot.

His hips began to move a little faster, pushing even deeper inside you, as his mouth swallowed your moans in a hungry kiss. Face going hot, you trembled, and his cock pulsed inside you with each pass. Your nails dragged down his shoulder blades, leaving marks for him to examine later, like a predator with its prey. Goosebumps raised on his skin, feeling himself get closer … and closer … and closer. If you kept digging your nails into him like that, he’d surely lose his grasp on reality. But you just felt so good, so warm, and he craved you. Craved you like you were his last meal.

“Laios,” you croaked out when his lips broke from yours, “Laios, are you close?”

He could hardly say anything else but, “Mm …” 

You thought you could get there by now from his tongue teasing you earlier, but you needed a little more friction. Bumping against your clit wasn’t enough. “Okay, okay,” you rambled, reaching down between your legs to touch yourself. “Just hold off for another minute. I’ll get there.”

Laios opened his eyes, realizing what you were doing, immediately envious of your own hand. “No, let me,” he murmured, voice like honey, and found your clit easily. “Then I can taste you on my fingers after.” His excitement made you laugh, which brought a smile to his own lips.

He shifted a little, pulling back so only his tip rested inside you, and fucked back into you at a different angle, one that brushed against your special spot. The stimulation of both your clit and g-spot had your back arching, whimpers slipping out of your lips like a chant.

“Is … this … better?” He asked, panting after each word.

Your voice was strained when you answered, “Y—Yes.”

His balls slapped against the underside of your ass, and he knew how close he was, but all he cared about at this moment was cumming together. He needed to see that look on your face when you reached your peak. He only got to see it a few times, when he lifted his eyes while tasting you, watching the way your lips parted and sweat ran down your forehead.

His fingers rubbed tight circles on your aching clit – knowing exactly what you liked – and you were close. So, so close already. Laios had a way of touching you that felt inquisitive, yet effortless. Like he wanted to learn which spots made you moan the loudest, while also already knowing without even touching you. You grew to like him not just because of his dopey grin, his protectiveness, or his positivity, but also for the way he was willing to learn with you, the way he needed you. And right now, he needed you to cum more than anything.

Tension coiled in your lower abdomen, making you gasp out, “Laios – fuck – Laios, I’m gonna –”

“I know, I know,” he rasped. His pace was nearing on brutal, his whole body shaking as he held off his release for you. “Together. We’ll – together.”

And then, your muscles tighten. You clenched around his cock, and it only took one more thrust against your g-spot to have you falling apart underneath him. You put a hand over your mouth as you cried out, careful of the rest of the party hearing. Your eyes rolled back, his fingers stroking your clit through it, and it all just felt too, too good. Your orgasm went on forever, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over you. As your walls spasmed around his cock, he groaned low, finally spilling into you. His hips stuttered. His mouth gasped for air against your lips, as he felt a ripple of relief from emptying himself inside you. He bit into your shoulder again to muffle his own noises. Your pussy convulsed, milking every last drop, and you were pretty sure you saw stars.

Once the aftershocks hit you both, he slumped against you, breathing in the scent of your hair again. Your fingers traced small circles onto his back muscles, your chest rising and falling with the fast beat of your heart. When his cock went soft inside you, his fingers finally left your clit and he brought them to his mouth. Your eyes were half-lidded as you watched him wrap his lips around his fingers and suck the juices off, moaning at the taste. He looked like an intricate painting; you couldn’t help but admire the sight.

His fingers left his mouth with a wet pop, and he whispered in a voice so soft you almost didn’t hear him, “You just taste so, so good.”

Laios kissed you again, slow and full of affection. You didn’t even care that he was still inside you; you could stay like this forever, pressed into his warm skin. Gods, you liked him so much that you immediately whimpered as his tongue slid into your mouth, and when he shuddered at your fingers on his back … you couldn’t believe you once questioned if he returned your feelings. You had both been so oblivious.

His mouth moved away from yours and he cupped your cheek. He took a moment to memorize the dusting of red across your face, the way your eyes hardly opened after sex, and then said, “Are you hungry? I think we both need a snack. It’s been a long night already.”

You giggled. “You had me at hungry.”

[wrioluvr]

text messages with your cute sub yandere boyfriend ☆

cw: reader is implied to have a cock, no pronouns used, fingering (yandere receiving), kinda wholesome

[name'swhore]: darling!! i changed my username for you!! do you like it?? (੭˃ᴗ˂)੭♡ [name'swhore]: darling....? (;´Д`) [name'swhore]: please answer me...... (ㅠ﹏ㅠ) [name'swhore]: ...... [name'swhore]: *audio message of him crying* (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ ) [name]: damn bitch i'm at work i'll ttyl [name'swhore]: bitch? can you say that again? (,,o//o,,) [name]: ........bitch? [name'swhore]: i just fingered myself to your message.... please call me your bitch more often. (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ [name]: ooookaaayyyyyyy.

feeling like teasing him a little, you smirk as you type out the next message. you imagine the expression he makes as he reads it.

[name]: want me to do it for you when i get back? [name'swhore]: do what? (´･ω･`)? [name]: finger you. [name'swhore]: ... [name'swhore]: YES. yes. yes. please. a million times yes. ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ [name]: be good and i will. and no hole pics. i almost got fired last time because i opened your message in front of my boss. [name'swhore]: right. sorry. please don't be mad. (´ε｀；) [name]: send me another hole pic and i won't fuck you for a month. [name'swhore]: I'M SORRY!!!!!!! (˃̣̣̥△˂̣̣̥)

work was tiring today. you laid on your bed staring at the ceiling of your room, musing over a difficult customer you had to deal with hours prior. your serene expression was contrasted by your boyfriend's flushed face, who was currently curled up into a ball by your side, squirming as his tight hole was being ravaged by your tender fingers. you knew all his sweet spots, being able to ruin him even without fully paying attention. a rather loud moan brought you back from your thoughts, forcing you to be made aware of the mess your boyfriend had made all over your bed. the boyfriend in question was also currently lying face down, breathing heavily, trying to recover his composure. his hole continuously puckered as you pulled your fingers out, causing him to shudder. out of the corner of his eye, he peeked at you, upon seeing your unimpressed expression, trailed his eyes down to look at your crotch.

"you're not even hard...." he observed, not bothering to hide the obvious dismay in his voice. "are you... are you sick of me?" his mind races to find anything he could have done wrong. "i won't send you any more nudes unsolicited! i'll... i'll pick you up from work everyday!! i'll let you abuse my hole-"

"you let me do that already...."

"....i...i don't know!! uh..."

"god, calm down. i'm just not really in the mood today. sorry...." you decide to be nice and pat his head comfortingly as he lies back down, exhausted. "you want to hear about my day at work?"

he nods frantically, perking back up as he listens intently to your rambles. although he was a bit of a pathetic slut, domestic life with him was nice. maybe you'd fuck him properly next time...

[nicksolemnlyswears]

THE BEAR AND THE BEE HIVE

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

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

word count: 14.4k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Deal."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you sure?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you going far?"

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

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

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

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

"You really don't have to…"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Late night?"

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

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

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

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

Carmy smiles and softly chuckles, "Fair enough."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sorry for assuming," he raises his palms.

"You're forgiven," you chirp.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"So, rebellion or something else?"

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

"Did it work?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Only a couple of blocks away. Why?"

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

"Thanks," you respond with a small smile.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Night," he whispers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You sure?" He asks once more.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes, chef!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Chef, your girl is here."

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

"Here you go."

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

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

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

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

"Yes, Chef!"

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

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

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

"You too, Neil!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What about your famous pizza?"

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

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

"Lead the way, Mr. Berzatto."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That rough," you grimace.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What good does he have to offer you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Then don't."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It's been so fuckin' long.

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

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

"Look at me," you sweetly say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Carmen, please."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You like when I fuck you like this?"

"Yes, yes, yes, keep going."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fuckin' amazing," he adds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Exactly! Someone gets it!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What do you think?" You ask expectantly.

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

The End?

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

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

thank you! bye xx