#I'm slowly working through my drafts

[skania]

The way Kishi makes a fool of Kakashi here though.

By this point, she has outright admitted that there’s absolutely nothing she can do for Sasuke, so those words are moot.

Kakashi also says that her feelings for Sasuke have “changed” and that they’re “on a whole different level”, yet her behavior is exactly the same from when she was twelve.

Kishi could’ve chosen so many ways to show actual progression to back Kakashi up, but he chose not to.

Not to mention, Kishi has Sasuke himself expose the clownery chapters later 🤡

Then we have Kakashi preaching about how she supposedly didn’t “want” nor “try” to make Sasuke hers —

Only for Kishi to confirm in the Gaiden that she chased after Sasuke even after Sasuke was saved by Naruto. So she very much wanted and tried to make him hers (🤡) and her novel (for those who take them into account) only makes it worse because it shows she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

But the worst offender is the fact that Kishi has Kakashi say that you don’t need a reason to love someone, because what undoes Sasuke in the end is understanding the reason Naruto goes so far for him.

So Kishi really grabbed Kakashi and made the poor man spout a bunch of non-sense to save-face since SS was going to be canon, but it’s obvious that not even Kishi himself believed any of it 🤡

[excali8ur]

Weird dream.

[yingren]

i feel kinda sick so it's a slow morning for me but i haven't been able to stop thinking about ren telling someone he loves them for the first time and how it's probably not a very romantic moment because he overthinks it until it consumes him and then it comes out at 6am a random wednesday morning "you snore in your sleep but i love you anyway. coffee?"

[mocnlighted]

it's nearly 7pm here and i already feel like i wanna go to bed lmao so pls give this post a like and i'll go through your starters? (open to mutuals only!)

[mediicusvitae]

{ I’ve been pretty busy these past few days with zine work, but I’m slowly but surely chipping away at my drafts/asks/drabbles in between! 

I’ll have more time to write after tomorrow and plan to tackle several things. I have also made it my personal goal to go to sleep at a more reasonable time each day so that I can have a better quality/quantity with my writing (and general wellbeing) when awake haha }

[overnightheartbeats]

rewatching criminal minds is so bizarre because so much of it is filmed in LA, so when I watch it, I'm always spotting streets in my old neighborhood 🤣🤣

[fallingforyouforeverr]

𝐍𝐚𝐩 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 | 𝐎𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐏𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢

summary: Oscar misses a team meeting, but when Lando goes to look for him, he gets a surprise

author's note: i finally published my first f1 fic!! sorry it's so short, but I have a bunch of other drafts I'm working on rn that will hopefully be finished soon. also, i literally wrote this at midnight inspired by a picture i saw on Pinterest so it's kinda bad but oh well

warnings: none, just fluff (600+ words)

• f1 masterlist • youtubers masterlist •

It was no secret to anyone that Oscar was a clingy boyfriend. The other drivers loved to compare him to a koala because of how often he would wrap himself around you, pulling you close to him and resting his head on top of yours. Although he often annoyed others by getting distracted by you, they couldn't even blame you for it and even Zak had to admit his clingyness was actually quite cute.

Today however, it was annoying – especially to Lando who had spent the last 20 minutes searching for his teammate after he failed to show up to the team meeting. He had already checked everywhere he could think of and was beginning to contemplate calling the police and reporting the younger boy missing when he heard a faint snore coming from a small room on his left. Slowly pushing open the door, Lando was met with the sight of you and Oscar sleeping on a sofa, your limbs so tightly wrapped around each other that it was hard to tell where you ended and he began.

As quietly as he could, Lando took out his phone and snapped a picture of the two of you and posted it on his story. He slid it back in his pocket, wondering how to wake his teammate without disturbing you, when Oscar stirred, stretching out his long limbs and opening his bleary eyes.

"Wakey wakey sleepyhead," Lando teased, causing the other boy to groan.

Oscar wriggled his arm out from under you, bringing it up to rub his eyes. "What time is it?" He asked.

"It's almost 2"

"WHAT!" Oscar shot up, accidentally waking you in the process, "shit I missed the meeting didn't I."

"Oz? What's wrong?" You spoke as you sat up, voice still slightly scratchy from sleep.

He froze, looking at you with wide eyes and a guilty expression. "Um... I forgot to set an alarm and I kinda slept through the team meeting."

"Oscar!" You scolded with a laugh, " Zak is gonna be so mad!"

Lando chuckled, making you jump as you hadn't realised he was there. "Oh yeah, he's pissed by the way."

Dragging a hand down his face with a sigh, your boyfriend reluctantly pulled himself out of your arms and stood up. "I'm gonna go catch up with the team," he announced, raking a hand through his hair as he rushed out to the garage.

"Oh I can't wait to see what Zak is gonna say about this" Lando began, a grinning cheekily at you. Narrowing your eyes at him in response, he held up his hands in surrender. "Ok, alright, I'm going!"

Smiling wryly at his childish antics, you began packing away your stuff, knowing that Oscar would be finished soon as he tended to become antisocial when tired. Just as you finished putting the last item in your bag, the Australian appeared in the doorway, affection laced with exhaustion in his eyes as he observed you. When you had finished, he held out his hand for you to grab as he led you through the McLaren hospitality. You had almost reached the exit when a familiar voice rang out behind you.

"Ah, Oscar, there you are!"

You both turned around guiltily to come face to face with a less than pleased Zak Brown. "We missed you in the meeting earlier, mate. I hope that nap was worth it."

"Oh yeah sorry I was um-" Oscar paused, a frown overtaking his features as he realised what the older man had said. "Wait how do you know about that?"

Zak chuckled, calling over his shoulder as he walked away, "Let's just say a certain someone isn't very good at keeping secrets."

"Lando, that absolute muppet!"

[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

[youronlydarlin]

warning: Simon not being able to keep his dick out of you, lazy author not proofreading his work, belly bulge ig??

Grrrrr. M' jus thinkin about an incredibly horny Simon

Like he doesn't even wait till his cock's erect and all that. No, he's going to stick it in your hole despite it being flaccid. S' not like it's going to stay soft when he's got it inside you anyway.

Simon practically purrs at the feeling of your tightness wrapped around him. Groaning so deeply in your ear. The vibrations sending waves of pleasure through every nerve in your body.

Biting your fingers, you use your other arm to steady yourself. All of a sudden you're burning up. Your throat going dry. The air you breathe in feels like fire, and you release it just as hot.

Simon's a heartless bastard, nuzzling into your neck as if he were but, an adorable little kitten looking for some attention. You open your mouth to berate him for it but instead it opens in a silent scream as he shallowly thrusts his hips into your stretched hole. Purposely bumping it on a set of nerves that's got you stifling a soft 'fuck... Knees buckling you're sure that if it weren't for his big hands holding you up, then you two would've toppled down the floor, a mess of sweat and desire.

But s' not even the best part. And Simon claims it's the feeling of his large cock slowly getting hard as a fucking rock inside you. Yeah, it's the sight of it making a bulge in your tummy.

a/n: consider this an apology ebrywan, it appears that this might be my only post for the day. M' sorry, but my schedule suddenly got even fuller, and now I'm chasing deadlines that are already due tomorrow. I don't even know if I can post the drafts that I queued for release because of this. Very sorry again, but I hope you darlings are having sunnier days than I am!!

Yours, truly,

–dolly

[tbaluver]

A Slow Night

pairing: rafayel x fem! reader genre/tags: MDNI, 18+, oral, unprotected sex/ slow sex a/n: this was requested by a couple of my anonnies requesting a slow and soft smut for raf but i can't find the requests so if your the anonnies that requested this i hope this finds you (╥﹏╥) this was sitting in my drafts for weeks....i hope this doesn't disappoint and you all enjoy ! if it does then this def does not exist okay ദ്ദി ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ ) i plan on writing a soft smut for xavier soon i'm not sure yet ! but it might also take a while tho hehe (ᵕ—ᴗ—) any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

After finally escaping the art exhibition, you both celebrated, eager to savor your time together alone. You enter his room, your lips remaining entwined with his, not breaking the contact as he gently guided you inside.

Both of you had matched elegantly for the event, but you two barely had a moment to enjoy the event together as a swarm of art collectors, critics, and journalists surrounded Rafayel. The only real contact you shared the rest of the event were stolen glances across the rooms. As if reading each other’s minds you both had managed to slip away out of the event and back into Rafayel’s studio.

A wave of emotions washed over you. Watching him across the room, stealing glances at each other as you watch him engage in conversation with countless people about his work, has stirred something deep inside of you. After what seemed like an eternity of waiting, you were finally alone with your boyfriend, yearning for him. Breathless, you break the kiss to catch your breath, “My boyfriend is so talented.”

“And what else?” He smiles with a playful glint in his eyes and draws you back into another fervent kiss. His hands slowly unbuttoning his dress shirt before completely removing it. His sculpted torso displayed so closely to you as if inviting your hands to hungrily explore.

“And he’s so handsome,” you murmur, your voice breathless as you run your fingers through his soft hair. Your hand slips to the back of his head, pulling him in closer as you deepen the kiss. Your lips dancing in rhythm, hot and needy.

You feel the back of your knee press against the edge of his bed and he helps gently lead you down onto the bed without breaking the kiss. You continue to keep praising him in between the slow kisses as his hands run along your sides.

As your bodies were pressed against each other, instinctively your hips began rolling against his lower half, feeling his hard cock over the thin material of your dress.

He presses a couple more kisses to your lips before he trails a path of wet kisses to your jaw and down to your neck until he starts sucking on your collarbone. His hands glide over the fabric of your dress, quickly finding the zipper and easily slipping it down with eager anticipation.

“Gonna give you anything you want, cutie,” He cups one of breasts, his thumb thrumming over your hard nipples as a groan leaves his lips. He takes your nipple in his mouth, running his tongue through the bud while massaging the other nipple with the tip of his finger. He switches, giving the other the same attention with his mouth and finger.

He continues to pepper your body with wet kisses, traveling down the valley of your breasts and over your belly. Your breathing is already labored, your hands snaking their way back into the locks of his hair.

He lays down on top of you, head resting on your belly as he begins kissing it. He holds onto your waist so you wouldn’t move. He goes further down to reach the waistband of our panties and you lift your hips up instinctively.

Slipping the fabric down slowly, he places a kiss on your hip bones. ”s’ pretty” He whispers before diving right into you. He explores your pussy with his lips, lapping from your labia to your clit. “Taste so good, how do always I survive that long without you?” He attaches his mouth to your button, sucking it gently, wanting you to enjoy the pleasure and giving you all the pleasure he could.

Your hands tug his hair gently, feeling his tongue explore and flick around. His hands lift your hips as if you were his feast and your thighs wrapped around his body to keep him in place.

He removes his hands off your body, bringing them to your pussy, swifting entering you with his two longer fingers, taking them in and out patiently. “Raf, don’t tease…..” You whine.

“‘m not teasing cutie, preparing you m’kay?” Rafayel fingers you softly, kissing your inner thighs. When your legs become shaky and you tug his hair a little harder, he decides to stop. Taking in one more kiss on your clit, before leaving the place in between your thighs.

He looks up to see your mouth slightly open, catching your breath. You couldn’t tell if the stars you were seeing were real through the expansive glass roof or if they were a pleasurable illusion he had conjured in you.

He tilts his head, a playful smirk curling up his lips looking at the sight in front of him. He carefully and slowly moves on top of you. “You still with me cutie? I’m not finished with you yet.” You respond with a lazy smile and nod.

You helped loosen the belt on his pants, unbuttoning and unzipping them as he slid them off completely. You bring your hand to his underwear, freeing his cock from the strained material.

He settles himself comfortably on top of you, slotting his lips back into yours as you take his cock in your hands. Your back was arched as your hands worked on his length, his veins can be felt on the palm of your hand, and his girth fitting into your fist perfectly.

"t's too good, gonna cum on your hands if you keep doing that." He murmurs, pulling his lips away from yours.

He sits up, fully taking off his boxers, his stiff cock stands tall and proud with a large amount of pre-cum on its head already.

He lowers himself to meet your gaze once more, pressing his forehead gently against yours as he softly asks, “How would you like it, my love?”

“Let’s go slow tonight Raf?”

"Anything for you."

He teased himself a bit by rubbing the tip of his cock at the entrance of your cunt, making you even more aroused. “Raf....” You whined, becoming impatient.

“So eager” Rafayel murmurs, slowly sinking his length inside of you. “F-fuck” He inhales sharply, “‘s warm and tight for me baby.” He lowers himself on top of you, brushing his lip on your ear as he slowly fills himself up inside of you.

“‘m so lucky to have you. to have you like this and see you like this.”

You hold onto his arms for support as Rafayel slowly rolls his hips inside of you, hearing you moan for more. With every thrust, he buries himself deeper and deeper in your body, wanting to stay in there forever. His lips are soft against yours as he kisses you, stifling your small whimpers as he pushes slowly into you, filling you up before stopping to catch your breath and adjust to his size.

To be inside of you as you hold him so tight and uttering his name over and over again with pure longing for him, it was perfect.

He kisses your jawline, the side of your neck, every part of your body he could. “‘m gonna go faster now mkay?” He whispers seductively in your ear, his warm breath fanning your skin as he waits for your response. Your eyes were fluttered shut and your mouth was slightly open as if you were lost in a trance. “p-please.” You breathlessly mustered up to say and that was all he needed to continue.

He whispered sweet words into your ear as your body trembled around him. His pace and thrust was much faster this time. “don’t hold back, wanna hear ya.” With his free hand, he squeezes one your tit, making you moan. He can feel your walls closing more and more around his cock.

“I’m so so close Raf,” You whimpered, gripping on him more tightly as your nails pressed more into his skin. “fill me please”

“Hmm? Want me to keep you full?” The lewd noise of your skins slapping filled the room as you began to meet your sweet release. “‘s good raf-you feel s-so good.”

The warm feeling of pleasure took over your body, starting from your chest and spread around your thighs, which began shaking with blissful waves. He continues praising you, working to meet his own release.

He was so close, ready to fill you up. “Fuck,” He groans, holding you closer to him as he slams your hips together, milking himself dry inside of you. Rafayel’s thrusts become sloppy before stopping. He collapses into the curve of your neck, breathing heavily. He stays inside of you for a bit as you both breath in sync, holding onto each other as if it were to be your last moments together.

Rafayel lifts his head, his eyes sparkling up at you and rolls you both over so you are now on top of him. A satisfied smirk playing on his lips. Your cheeks painted in a rosy color and you were both glittered with sweat. He draws you down for another passionate kiss, his hands glide over your soft curves, savoring every touch.

He pulls away from the kiss, gazing at you as if it you were a masterpiece yourself. “Gods,” He sighs contently, “I love you so much.”

[sat0sugu-angst]

Well, We've Got the Rest of the Night

A continuation of "I Only Need 10 Minutes" where you come home drunk an horny

wc: 2.8k

cw: super sappy bc im a sap, fingering (f. receiving), oral (m. receiving), unprotected p in v, squirting, little bit of aftercare, subby reader, lemme know if i missed something

a/n: i'm back from the dead! this has been sitting in the drafts for agesss i've just been drabbling here and there and got it to a point where i thought yall might enjoy it too

rbs/comments let me know you liked my work! don't be shy 💓

MDNI

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You wave to your girlfriends from the front door as the Uber drives off. After fumbling with the keys a little, you eventually get the door open and stumble inside.

"Babe?!" You call out from the entryway. Even though you can't see him from the door, the light from the living room gives him away.

"Yeah, kitchen." He calls back. You work your way out of your shoes as you head deeper into the apartment, nearly falling, but you catch yourself on the corner of the counter.

Katsuki is sitting at the kitchen table, paperwork laid out before him, and his glasses hanging on the end of his nose. When he sees you, the tension in his face melts, and though he's not quite smiling at you, you can't help but grin. The way he looks at you, with a softened brow and an ease only you could give him, made you feel like you could fly. You come up behind him, leaning forward to wrap your arms around his shoulders, nuzzling into his neck.

At first, you just hug him, making a contented noise in the back of your throat in greeting. "You have fun tonight?" His voice was level, but you could feel his heart racing under your fingertips.

You smile a little while you nod into his neck, but then you're kissing the skin there. Your fingers glide slowly up and down his chest, lips brushing over his throat as you say, "I've been thinking about your mouth all night."

"Mm," his voice rumbles under your fingers. "Barely touched you'n you can't think about anything else, huh?" His hand rests lightly on your arm, and you feel his thumb rubbing soft circles into your skin. He was surprisingly affectionate, you realized early in the relationship. He never shied away from your touch, however casual or intimate, and returned your affection in kind. Katsuki may not always be able to proclaim his love in words, but the way he held you left no doubts about how he felt about you.

You shake your head in answer to his question, pulling back slowly so that your fingers brushed up his arms and shoulders. You use those same shoulders, and the chair next to him, to push yourself up onto the table, too drunk to care about sitting on his paperwork.

He was smiling at you with perfect ease, his lips quirking up as you made yourself comfortable. You lean in and clumsily press a quick kiss to his lips, barely steadying yourself with your hands on his chest. When you pull away, he's still smiling, a smug tinge in the way his eyes challenged you. You can't help but feel shy under the weight of his gaze. "Always think about how you touch me," you whisper.

There was something fond about the way he regarded you, his gaze thorough as it trailed down your body. He grabbed one of your ankles, the one closest to him, and moved your leg so that you had one on either side of him. Then his arms wrapped around your hips, grabbing at your ass just enough that he could pull you toward him, and you were right at the table's edge. Your dress bunched up at your hips, and your underwear was clearly visible.

He leaned in for another kiss, hands on either knee. He holds them wider so that he can lean right against you, and then they slide up through the insides of your thighs before settling back on your hips. His lips move from your mouth toward your jaw. "And how could I think about anything other than the way you look when I touch you? Fuck, look at you. Could barely get any work done knowing you were somewhere lookin’ so good."

His mouth moves toward your ear, stopping right beneath, breath teasing the sensitive skin there. "So fucking sexy. You dance a lot tonight?" You can't help the way you gasp as he runs his tongue up your neck, slowly and deliberately, tickling you in the best way. "You taste so fucking good." You realize he's probably tasting dried sweat from dancing all night, and feel heat between your legs.

His teeth lightly graze the skin where he'd been kissing you, and you let out a small cry in pleasure. One hand is on his chest, gripping the front of his shirt without a care about stretching the material. The other goes around his neck, running your fingers through his hair.

Kissing down your body, he unzips your dress and pulls the straps over your shoulders in a heap of fabric in your lap, leaving you in only your lacy pink bra. His hands tease your breasts, running over them briefly on their way down to your legs.

He's watching you as he lifts your legs so that they rest on his shoulders, and you bite your lip in anticipation. Before you see his hands, being blocked by the fabric of your dress, you feel his fingers glide along your slit over your underwear. "Fuck," you gasp, sensitive, hands resting on his jaw, near his chin, leaning in to press your lips to his as his fingers tease you.

You're whining for more before he eventually moves the fabric aside, and he bites your lip when he feels how wet you are. "God, you're fuckin' perfect, aren't you?" He breathes against you as he runs his thumb through your slick, spreading it up to rub right where you'd been craving him. You find yourself grinding into his hand, whimpering against his lips as you kissed him harder.

He knows your body so well by now, you barely have to give him direction; with each whimper and cry, he shifts just so until he has you shaking in his arms. You feel yourself nearing your climax, and Katsuki can feel it, too. Feel how you begin to flutter around his fingers. "Fuck, baby, are you coming right now? Go ahead and come on these fingers."

But you stopped, trying to control your muscles and keep yourself from cresting over. You pull away so you can look him in the face. "No, not yet. It's your turn. I don't wanna come again unless you're inside me."

His brow quirks up in confusion. "But I'm already inside you." As if to prove his point, he thrusts into you meanly. You gasp, but he holds eye contact with you. "You really don't wanna come?" He asks, and you shake your head. He begins pulling out of you, slowly, and you can't help the noises you make. He smiles up at you. "Don't feel like it with the way you're clenching around me for more." And he presses back into you.

You cry out, muffling your voice by tucking into the crook of his neck. You can't help your blush. "Katsuki," you whine, but it's no use, his fingers resume in that painfully delicious rhythm and his thumb rubs circles against your clit. He grabs you by the hair at the nape of your neck, gentle but unyielding as he pulls you back to look up at him.

There's something possessive in his eyes as he looks at you, but there's a softness, too. "Come on, baby, come on these fingers and I'll fuck you properly."

You clench involuntarily, wanting to look away from the weight of his gaze. Sensing you becoming self-conscious, he leans up to kiss your lips, his thumb applying just a little more pressure so he could press his tongue into your mouth when you gasp. He keeps you like that for a moment, sucking lightly on your lip before pulling back again. Most of your lipstick had smeared, ending up on his neck and mouth, but he was fascinated by the light swelling from the force of your kisses. "How you can still manage to feel embarrassed with me, I'll never understand." His voice is soft, even as he adds another finger, filling you more.

But how could someone get used to the intensity in his eyes? The way he looked at you, kissed you, touched you. It was greedy and deliberate, but oh, so gentle.

You look back from his eyes to his mouth, leaning in for more kisses. He reacts in kind, following the way your hips began to move against his fingers and slip his tongue into your mouth. You couldn't help whining in his mouth as his fingers worked you up again, and it was only a matter of time until you could feel your climax washing over you in waves. "Katsuki, uh—" you leaned into him, tightening your arms around him and pressing your forehead against his.

"Just like that," He says, peppering kisses all over your face, anywhere he could reach, as his fingers guided you through your orgasm. "Fuck, I wanted to take you to bed, but I'm gonna hafta fuck you on this table."

He pulled away only a little once you'd come down, not enough to pull himself out of your arms, but your legs dropped down to either side of his hips. Just enough for him to work his buckle undone.

"Wait," you said, grabbing his arms and pulling them from his pants. You got down from the table now, nearly stumbling from the drink and your fresh high, but steadied yourself with your hands on his waist. You pull him in for one slow kiss, grabbing his hands and forcing him to sit in the chair behind him before you were getting on your knees. You still held his hands in yours, and you guide his hand to your face.

"I wanna taste you now." You said, hoping the way your lips brushed against the tip of his finger enticed him. You could feel your arousal coating his fingers, and you pulled his finger into your mouth and sucked on it, tasting yourself.

Fuck, He thinks, because you were such a slutty girl when you were drunk. He was excited he could come along for the ride. "You're fucking perfect."

You sucked once more on his fingers before releasing it with a pop! and continued the work of getting his pants off.

He was already hard when you pulled down his underwear, tip damp with precum. And as well as he knew your body, you knew his. You knew exactly how he liked his cock to be sucked. With each grunt, you knew you were working him up and it was only a matter of time. He tossed his head back and you grabbed him by the front of his shirt, pulling him so that he had to look at you.

“Fuck,” He breathes, and you feel him twitch in your mouth. "I'm close."

"Mm," You hum, maintaining your pace.

"Fuck, wanna come inside you."

You have to pull off him for a moment to smile, grinning up at him sweetly. "You are inside me," you point out, echoing his words from earlier, before taking him back in your mouth.

He grins down at you, and he almost comes right there in your mouth, but Katsuki was used to getting exactly what he wanted. "Off, brat. Come sit on this cock."

Your body comes alive at the full force of his attitude, letting him pull you up. You’re trying to get your dress the rest of the way off, but with how it’s bunched, it won’t fit over your hips, and you quickly give up to work on your underwear, but Katsuki has other plans. He grabs a side with each hand and pulls, effortlessly ripping the lacy underwear in half and it falls away, leaving you bare to him.

“Katsuki!” You complain, but then his mouth is on yours, his hand in your hair, using his other hand to guide his cock as you took your place in his lap. As you lowered yourself on top of him, you pressed your lips to his for a kiss, whining into his mouth as his tip pushed into you.

You have a hard time holding yourself up in the kitchen chair, not quite enough room on either side of his legs for you to hold yourself up. You gasp as you fully settle in, how deep he presses inside you, you're certain you can feel him in your stomach. You whine, trying to use your arms to lift yourself up, but you feel his hands circle your waist, grabbing at your hips. "Don't gotta do a thing, baby." And then he thrusts. Hard.

The force of him pulling out and slamming back into you forces a breathy yell out of you. "Fuck, Katsuki!" You breathe, holding onto him for dear life.

"I know, baby," He says, as he sets a steady pace, the head of his dick bumping into that spot that has your whole body set alight. "You can take it. Just take this cock, baby." All you can do is hold onto him, trying to relax your muscles to let him in, but you feel him hit that spot over and over.

"Katsuki, please, I feel funny. Slow down or I'm gonna make a mess."

But there's no talking sense into Katsuki, not with the way you hug his dick so well. You wanna make a mess for him? He'd never turn down that kind of opportunity. "Just come, baby."

"You're not gonna wanna clean up tonight, we can't leave it til morning."

"Don't worry so much," He says, and punctuates his point by readjusting the angle of his hips so that he rocks against your g-spot again.

You only have time to let out a quiet, "fuck," before you both feel your release in his lap. You feel your muscles contract around his dick, and soon you feel the warmth of him coming inside. You're unable to stop the gentle moans falling from your mouth as he continues small thrusts as he rides out his orgasm, trying to muffle yourself in his neck.

He rubs your back gently as you both come down. For a moment, it's just the sound of you both breathing heavily against each other. You're tuckered out, exhaustion from the night hitting you as you relax in his arms.

Then he's up, holding you against him. You cry out when the shift of positions causes him to slip out of you, and you feel yourself clench around nothing. "Katsuki," you grumble, wrapping your legs around his waist.

"Sorry, baby. Just wanna get you ready for bed before you pass out."

He carries you through the house and to your bathroom. You try to protest, but Katsuki is just as stubborn about cleanup as he is about how he fucks you, and after brushing your teeth and taking a shower together, he takes you back in his arms. Normally, you’d protest being carried around like a doll, but in the moment, you can't find it in you to complain, not when he smells like fresh soap and his skin is warm against yours.

When he sets you on the bed, you recline all the way back, closing your eyes. He rustles around the room, but when he goes quiet you open your eyes, finding him standing above you, now dressed, with a set of pajamas in hand. "C'mon, baby, time to put some clothes on."

You whine. "thought you liked me better without clothes," you tease, rolling over on your stomach and pretending to sleep.

You hear him scoff, and then the weight on the bed shifts as he presses in close to you. "Brat, you just wanna be babied, huh?"

You don't open your eyes, but you can't help the smile teasing your lips. “Well, I can do it myself, I just know how much you like to baby me.”

He grunts, but then you feel the bed shift, then the gentle pressure of his body laying atop yours as he holds himself up so his body rests against yours just so. “Been babyin’ you. C’mon ‘n be a good girl for me now.”

Your insides twist deliciously, and sigh dramatically. “Well I guess since you’ve been so nice,” you tease, and shift so you’re laying under him, facing up.

He snorts, pushing up to allow you to do the same. “Only for you.” You roll your eyes, but follow his lead and dress yourself. But mother hen was in a doting mood, and even after being teased, he helped you into your pajamas.

Once you were dressed, he stretches his arms over his head, yawning before crawling in beside you. He pulls you against him roughly, and you let him, tucking your head into his neck to inhale his fresh scent. “I did like that set, though.” you say, smiling against his neck.

He grunts. “Bra’s still intact.”

You roll your eyes. “Goodnight.”

He hugs you a bit tighter. “Night.”

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a/n: tysm for reading!

taglist: @asmaechan @animexholic @justanothernpcartist @inumakicanrailme 

masterlist mha masterlist

[dinogoofymutated]

Hi. Could you please write some Gambit fluff headcannons? The Gambit Nation is struggling right now and we could all really use some fluffiness from the man himself.

Btw I'm absolutely OBSESSED with your writing. Like, seriously amazing.

Gambit/GN!Reader

I Know you sent this in forever ago after that one godforsaken episode of 97' and I'm so sorry I'm just now getting to it!!! It's been sitting in my drafts for forever and I've just been struggling to come up with fluff hcs! TBH, It started as general fluff and not a whole ass storyline and eventually i just got too far deep to stop! This isn't even as fluffy as I was quite expecting, but once i started writing it just came out and atp I couldn't stop. It's been a rough night, but this really just turned Into being Remy's comfort person HCs.

TWs: rocky family life mentioned. Sneaking out, underage drinking, so on. Smooth timeskip to adulthood. very much fluffy with a lil bit of somber tones. Not enough to be angst tho.

Think about being Teens with Remy Lebeau. The late nights, sneaking out, ranting to each other in the streets and alleyways of New Orleans.

Getting into fights with your parents/guardians or siblings and wanting nothing more than to just shrivel up and disappear. Curling up underneath your blankets with a pillow wrapped around your ears trying to just block out all of the bad thoughts when you keep hearing a persistent Tap, Tap, Tap. And then a much more obvious pop! Against your window.

You know who it is before you even unwrap yourself from the comfort of your bed, opening your window with a lot less energy than you usually have. You're tired and sad, but the face of that Cajun boy your parents don't like always makes you smile.

The red-eyed teen's smirk falls when he sees the rough state you're in, right before ducking back behind the trashcan when a light turns on in your parent's bedroom. Eventually, it turns back off again, and by the time he's back on the sidewalk you're ready to go. He helps you out of the window much more gentlemanly than a thief and a scoundrel probably should, but he's nothing if not a sweetheart. (And a loverboy, but you wouldn't realise it then.)

"Ah, hell wit' them. S'not like they worth your time anyway." Remy's got an arm wrapped around your shoulders, a beer in hand as the two of you lean against the wall of a particular mausoleum. -Course, you had offered whatever ghosts has resided there the first sip as a courtesy, so you're definitely not cursed, right? Not that Remy was even worried about that, but he puts up with your superstitions to comfort you.

"Don't say that, please." You whisper, rubbing your tired eyes. He frowns, knowing that he wouldn't know the first ting about how "normal" families work, but he doesn't quite get why you worry about what they think so much.

"I don't get why you stay, Cher. Not when they treat you like this." You can feel the rumble of Remy's voice through his chest, and find yourself tucking yourself closer into his side. He sets his head on top of yours when you do so.

"What other choice do I have? They're my parents." You whisper, fidgeting with some strings at the hem of your sweatshirt. In hindsight, maybe wearing pajamas to a graveyard wasn't the best choice. You hear Remy chuckle after a moment as a thought crosses his mind, and he swirls the bottle slowly, a few times, before he hands it to you.

"Well..." He starts, giving the words a moment to rest. "There is one option..." You take the bottle from him, cocking a eye as you sit up a little bit to look at him.

"And what's that?"

"Run away wit' me."

He's smirking when he suggests it, a playfulness in his eyes. If only you knew just how serious he was.

"Remy LeBeau!" You scold, unable to fight back your smile as he chuckles at you.

"What? S'not a bad idea, no? No thieves guild, no drama, Jus' you an me." He laughs when you give him an incredulous look and take a dramatic sip from the beer, only to make a face at the taste directly afterwards. Damn, was it rancid.

"Don't get me dreaming, Remy." You mumble. There's only a little bit left it the bottle, and you decide it's better suited for the graveyard. Remy complains about it, trying to fight you for the rest of the beer. The two of you are a couple of idiots to be laughing this loud in a place like this, and even bigger ones to start play-fighting, but neither of you really mind.

You were each other's safe space. The one person the other could run to as the world falls apart around them. Life as a teen was never easy, especially not when you're mutants- but at least you had each other. But as his life was being consumed with the thieves guild, and the prophesy that came with it, you saw less and less of Remy as the years went by.

When you did meet again, it was under the roof of one Professor Xavier. The others were nervous and distrustful about this ex-con entering the team, but you never doubted him for a second. Your person was finally right where you needed him once again. Your Remy. And as smooth as he is around the team, you knew it was a wall, almost an act. Something to befriend the others- but you knew Remy, and you were grateful that after all the years that had passed, he still came to you when he needed you the most.

"Long day?" You ask. Remy hums in response, plopping down onto the bed next to you. You set your book to the side when he rests his head in your lap, soothingly running your hands through his hair as he sighs in content.

"You know it, ma chérie." Remy says in your lap. You can't help but blush at the name still, despite how many years he's spent calling you by the words. Remy's eyes are closed beneath you, giving you the freedom to fully take in the features of his handsome face whilst keeping him unawares. His stubble is growing in, and he's got a few new freckles and scars from your years seperated, but he's still the same wild, reckless kid you fell in love with as a teen. He hums as you brush your thumbs across his cheekbones, catching your hand and pressing it to his lips, leaving a kiss there. He then kisses your inner wrist before holding your hand to his face.

You still don't really know what to say when he does things like that.

"Can I ask you something?" You ask after a moment.

" 'Course, Cher."

"Would you still wanna run away with me?" When the last words leave your mouth, you can feel Remy frown. His eyes open about halfway, your hand still in his hold as he presses it to his face.

"What brought this on?" He asks, and you only shrug, looking away from him as your thumb idly strokes his face.

"I dunno. I was just thinking about it." His skin on your own is starting to feel too warm, your nerves becoming unignorable. Remy cocks an eyebrow at you, before he smiles. Not a smirk, a real, genuine, smile. He takes your chin in his hand, and moves your head so that you're looking at him again.

"If you needed me to run away with you, Belle, I'd do so without looking back." His words make you smile brightly, holding onto the wrist of the hand that holds your chin. You lean forward to press a kiss to his forehead, but Remy moves. He sits up just slightly, and before you know it, Remy Lebeau's lips are pressed against yours in a sweet kiss.

Remy chuckles at the surprised face you're making when he pulls back, sitting up a little further so that he can press his forehead to your own, leaning into your space.

"You' always known me to be an opportunist, Cher. Can't help but steal a kiss here an there." Remy says, and your laugh is partly from disbelief, surprise, and outright giddy joy.

"Please tell me you haven't been waiting to say that since we were kids." You ask. Remy smiles brightly in return.

"My poker face 'not good enough for you, huh, ma chérie?."

[cosmicanakin]

★ MORNING MUSE.

੭୧ . . . vinnie hacker x female!reader.

ᯓ you wake before vinnie one morning, deciding you want to photograph his adorable sleepy form with your new polaroid camera he gifted you, resulting in lazy morning cuddles and kisses.

warning(s) fluff┆kissing┆cuddling. 𓇼 my drafts are full of half-finished wips. i'll try my best to get them out soon! ◝(ᵔᗜᵔ)◜ mature content!

　✧⠀ ⠀⠀　𓈒　⠀⠀ ⠀૮₍ ´ ꒳ `₎ა⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ꪆৎ masterlist.

warm morning light filters through the window as you start to stir from sleep. blinking awake, you take in vinnie's still-dozing form next to you, chest rising and falling steadily. a lazy smile tugs at your lips as memories of christmas day surface - exchanging gifts by the tree, vinnie presenting you with the vintage polaroid camera you'd been eyeing for months.

your fingers itch to try it out as you take in vinnie's handsome, relaxed features. his curls falls gently over his eyes, lashes fluttering lightly in dreams. you just have to capture this moment.

carefully slipping out of the bed so as not to disturb him, you retrieve the camera from your dresser. climbing back onto the mattress, you slowly straddle vinnie's lap, holding the camera up to frame the shot. but as you go to press the button, vinnie stirs from underneath you with a sleepy hum.

"good morning, sleepyhead," you greet him softly, brushing his hair back tenderly. vinnie blinks up at you, taking a moment to focus before smiling drowsily. "morning, baby. what're you up to?" he rumbles, voice husky from sleep. you lift the camera briefly.

"just wanna get some shots of you while you're all cozy. is that okay?" you ask sweetly. vinnie chuckles, stretching below you like a contented cat. "you sure know how to wake a guy up. go ahead, beautiful, do your thing."

grinning, you angle the camera down to capture your view—vinnie gazing up at you adoringly with sleepy eyes and bedhead, arms folded casually behind his head. when it prints, vinnie peeks at the square photo emerging.

"not bad for a first shot," he notes appreciatively. thrilled, you take a few more pictures from above; vinnie flashing lazy smiles and smug smirks, winking playfully in one. after the third print develops, you line them up on the nightstand with care.

"thank you for being my morning muse, babe," you coo, planting a kiss on his scruffy cheek. vinnie hums contentedly, large hands drifting up your bare thighs.

"no problem at all. i think i deserve some morning cuddles now though," he rumbles cheekily, strong arms wrapping around your waist to flip your positions. vinnie cages you below him, nuzzling your neck. sighing happily, you thread fingers through his messy curls as he trails kisses along your collarbones.

"thank you again for the camera, vinnie. i love it," you murmur gratefully. vinnie lifts his head, dark eyes glittering warmly. "only the best for my girl. i'm glad you're getting use out of it already. feel free to photograph me whenever you please," he teases playfully.

you laugh softly, tracing his defined jaw. "oh i plan to document all your cuddly, sleepy phases. might have to start an album," you muse. vinnie pretends to groan, burying his face back in your neck. "i think i've created a monster," he mumbles into your skin, making you giggle.

arching into his body heat, you exhaled sharply. "your handy work. now do these morning cuddles include kissing?" you inquire jokingly. vinnie chuckles, hovering over you with a playful smirk. "well, i suppose i could spare some kisses for my favorite girl," he drawls, dipping in to capture your lips warmly.

you hum happily into the tender kiss, hands sliding up vinnie's bare back. he holds your face gently between his large palms, slowly deepening the embrace with quiet reverence. you lose track of time drifting peacefully in vinnie's arms, exchanging sweet caresses and kisses under the golden morning light.

when you finally break for air, vinnie gazes down at you with so much adoration it takes your breath away. brushing back your tousled hair, he presses a lingering kiss to your forehead. "i love you so much, baby. thanks for starting my day off right," he murmurs against your skin.

beaming, you squeeze vinnie tightly against you. "i love you too, babe. thanks for making every morning with you a gift." he smiles lovingly, pulling the blankets up cocoon-style to envelope you both protectively. your polaroid camera sits on the nightstand, ready to continue documenting all your cozy mornings together. and with vinnie's strong, comforting embrace all around you, you drift back to a peaceful doze with eyes full of promise for sweet tomorrows yet to come.

[brittscafe]

𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮, 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮

Pairing: Geto Suguru x fem! reader.

Summary: Geto Suguru convinces his girlfriend to wear a vibrator that he can control and can't seem to get enough of teasing and edging her.

Request: Saw your requests were open! Asking for JJK can you please do an NSFW for Geto. He convinces his girlfriend to wear a remote controlled vibrator and makes her run errands while wearing it, edging her each time. @seireiteihellbutterfly

A/n: Hiii <3 Omg this has been in my drafts for agessss and I've been working on it and I've enjoyed it so so so much and I love me some Suguru 😩😩

Content: Edging, Geto being a big, cocky tease, good girl used often, vibrator being used, sexual acts in public.

Ko-fi link (anything is appreciated <3)

"Geto, you're crazy," you comment, shaking your head and chuckling in disbelief at the tiny remote controlled vibrator he's holding in his hand.

He cocks an eyebrow at you, wearing a sly grin across his face. His raven hair is down, shaping his sharp jawline.

"Come on, y/n. It'll be like a fun game," he coos out, walking up to you and cupping your face with his free hand. You lean into his touch and shrug your shoulders.

"Yeah? For you, maybe."

"Baby, please. It'll be fun and you'll be such a good girl," Geto's voice slowly gets deeper and you feel a tingle in between your legs.

"Fine," you roll your eyes with amusement.

"Good girl," Geto's voice rumbles out and he grabs onto your pants puling them down. You little out a tiny gasp from the sudden act and you giggle.

His fingers dance along the top of your underwear and he licks his lips, pulling down your underwear. Geto sticks the tiny vibrator inside your underwear and pulls it back up along with your pants.

The vibrator is cold and sits nicely up against your clit.

"Now what?" you ask, placing your hands on your hips.

"We need to run to the store."

"The store?! Suguru you're crazy if you think I'm gonna go out there in public with a vibrator in between my legs."

"Fine...as long as you're okay with having no food for dinner," he explains and your eyes widen.

"We're out of food?" you sigh out, lowering your head. Geto's eyes become filled with excitement as he hovers above you.

"Ok, then let's go."

You keep glancing over your shoulder in the store at Geto follows behind you. The aisle you're in is empty and a smirk starts to form along Geto's face.

The little remote is inside his pants pocket and he slowly reaches inside, turning the remote on. You stop in your tracks as the vibrator starts to vibrate up against your clit and you exhale deeply.

The vibrations are gentle enough that you can hold yourself together, but they're slowly getting to you.

"You okay, y/n?" Geto asks, whispering in your ear behind you. He wraps an arm around your waist from behind and pulls you into his body.

You scoff and tug away from his body, glaring at him over your shoulder. You continue walking down the aisle and Geto stands a few feet away from you, his thick finger pressing down the button on the remote.

The vibrations suddenly become faster against your sensitive clit, surely starting to get a little red in your underwear. You stumble down the aisle, eyes locked onto the items on the shelf, trying to focus.

All the vibrations build up against your clit and a moan slips out from your lips. You slap your hand over your mouth and grab onto the shelf, trying to control yourself.

If he keeps this up any longer, you're gonna cum your pants. Your stomach twists into tight knots, ready to explode.

You whimper and groan into your hand, rocking your hips up against the vibrator. Geto watches you carefully with half lidded eyes and stalks up to you.

"Aw, what's wrong baby?" Geto coos out, gazing down at you with hazy eyes. His voice is innocent as if he's not torturing you with that stupid remote.

"Curse you, Suguru," you mumble out through gritted teeth, letting your head fall onto his chest as you feel the vibrations in between your thighs start to calm down and fade away into nothing. Your hands reach up and grab onto his shirt, twisting it in your fists.

Suguru lets out a chuckle that rumbles deep in his chest and he pats your head. You breathe heavily and your clit buzzes from the pleasure it was just given.

"Can't handle it, baby?" Suguru asks, putting his free hand into the pocket and pressing the remote. The item inside your underwear starts vibrating against your clit and your legs about buck out from underneath you.

A smirk forms along Suguru's face as your grip on him becomes tighter and you whimper.

"Shut...the...fuck...up," you pant out, lifting your face up from his chest and glaring up at him. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip, pressing another button and making the vibrations go faster.

Your mouth gapes open, a pathetic moan leaving your lips. Geto chuckles and places his hand underneath your jaw.

He loves seeing you crumble and trying to hold it together in public.

"Oh, honey...if anyone needs to be quiet, it's you. We don't want everyone in the store to hear you moaning, right?" Suguru asks, cocking an eyebrow.

You nod your head and squeeze your legs together.

"Suguru...please. I can't handle it," your voice shakes with desperation and Suguru feels a tingle down below. He bites his bottom lip, just thinking about how much it turns him on seeing you struggle to keep yourself together.

Suguru glances around the store and sees the bathrooms in the back, just a few feet behind the two of you.

The two of you make a run into the men's bathroom, thank the lord it's empty. You almost collapse on the floor as your clit becomes sore from the constant vibrations.

"Aw baby, are you gonna cum for me?" Geto asks as pleasure ripples through your body. Sweat gleams along your forehead and you rapidly nod your head, hands still gripping on Geto's shirt.

You swear the bathroom was getting foggy because of how much you are panting. Geto's eyes scan over your face, twisting with such immense pleasure and he chuckles.

You whine loudly and wiggle against Suguru, mouth gaping open and crying out as the high hits you. A series of whiny, puffy moans leave your moans and Geto holds you close to him.

His hand runs up and down your back as you feel the cum leak out from your pussy and onto your underwear.

"Good girl. That's my good girl," Geto coos you, hand patting the top of your head as you pant heavily, coming down from your high.

"Suguru," is the only thing you can breathe out, resting your head against his chest.

"Come on, it's time to go home since someone creamed their pants," Geto teases you and you groan out, pressing your hands into his chest and playfully shoving him away.

Curse you Suguru Geto...

[writers-potion]

Writing Mad Characters

Okay this is a bit awkward because I had this question copypasted into Google Docs I use to draft my answers, and I realized I've lost the question in my inbox (which is being flooded).

So...I'm so sorry for whoever asked this question. Sorry for the delay because I was struggling with life in general for the past month and definitely SORRY for losing your question (－‸ლ)

Q: I'm writing a story where a major character is slowly spiraling into madness where small details kinda hint into the downfall right before the bigger details appear and then it the floodgates open. Is there anything I should avoid? Anything that I should keep in mind? Anything that I should research?

Things to Avoid

“Mad” or “Insane” is too general. Writing a cliched ‘crazy’ character who randomly talks to imaginary people and lashes out at strangers, you’ll offend a whole bunch of people who've gone through/have mental illnesses. Read up on existing mental conditions (schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, post-traumatic disorder and borderline personality disorder, etc.) to see what your character might have. 

Words like “mad” “crazy” or “insane” aren’t enough when you’re describing their status. As mentioned, these words hardly mean much when it comes to providing a clear description.

Contradicting yourself. Throwing random unhinged symptoms here and there wouldn’t work. In fact, you must have a clear arc on which they’re traveling and ensure that your “hints” are all getting at something.

Making the character overly destructive or harmful to others (when nothing really justifies it)

Justifying damaging behavior with this “madness”. Mad or not, your character will still have motives and goals that drive them forward. 

Making them look incompetent just the fact that they have a mental condition that makes them appear “mad” to others shouldn’t prevent them from achieving success. In fact, they may be even more cool-hearted and logical when it comes to their obsessions/goals. 

Research Tips

Narrow down the mental conditions your character experiences. Even if it’s a fictional condition, try basing it on existing ones and building on top of them. 

Take some time to study characters and/or real clinical cases that resemble the kind of madness you’re going for. 

- Anxiety Disorders: excessive fear and dread (ex. phobias) - Mood Disorders: persistent swings in mood or persistent feelings that interfere with daily life (ex. Depression, bipolar) - Psychotic Disorders: disordered thinking (ex. schizophrenia) - Eating Disorders: extreme emotional attitudes toward food (ex. Bulimia, anorexia) - Impulse Disorders: unable to resist urges (ex. Kleptomania, pyromania, gambling) - Personality Disorders: extreme inflexible personality traits (ex. Anti-social disorder, OCPD) - Past Traumatic Stress: persistent, frightening memories leading to emotional numbness 

Does your character have empathy?  

A sociopathic kind of madness is different. 

General Writing Tips for Spiraling into Madness

Establish a Baseline 

A lot of factors (stress, family history, innate personality, trauma, etc.) can contribute to madness, but it is not going to happen in a week. Define the existing mental and physical conditions your character has, and start from there. 

If you’re aiming for suicidal tendencies at the end, you want to start with symptoms of depression (a condition that may lead to suicide) - growing apathetic, erratic sleeping patterns, irritability, etc. 

This is also the stage where you want to plant some triggers that’ll go off later.

Trigger Events

A perfectly sound character suddenly spiraling down the madness route due to a single accident or traumatizing event isn’t convincing. 

A madness “snap” denies the reader the experience of watching the character’s journey into madness and how they feel about it. 

Internal Conflict (antagonist in himself) 

You must remember that madness is incurable. If someone could “cure” themselves by eating healthy, exercising and taking a few pills, it wouldn’t be much of a madness, would it? This means that the worst antagonist is going to be the character themselves, or the part of them that’s been taken away. 

Show how they are frustrated with themselves, scared of themselves, angry at their “alternative self”. The experience of not knowing yourself is a whole journey of its own.

Physical Manifestations/Quirks

If your character has a routine, show how they break down. 

They might develop habits that they otherwise would never allow themselves to have, perhaps as an effort to “keep this madness out”

Deteriorating Relationships

Depict how the character’s madness impacts his closed/loved ones. In the earlier stages, those close to him might be faster to notice and accept the signs of madness, even if the character denies it him/herself.

The first signs of madness might show when the character is trying to deal with difficult relationships - like losing patience and being unable to pick up subtle social clues.

Choosing Obsessions Over Primal Urges 

For these characters, obsession can take over a person’s normal urge to eat, sleep or even live. This can lead to, more or less, suicide. 

Example: In Black Swan, Nina’s obsession with becoming the perfect ballerina drive her to insanity, to the point where she doesn't mind dying on stage for the show.

[embrosegraves]

𝔻𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕋𝕚𝕞𝕖 𝔻𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕌𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣

Oscar Piastri x Horner!Reader Oscar finds that having a crush having less than platonic feelings for your boss's only adult daughter is apparently free real estate for some of F1's biggest gossips

Warnings: As per, explicit language and grammatical errors.

dates on tweets don't exist, right? they're all just fake??

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oscarpiastri A week full of sim training, rage rooms and relaxation before going home for a p1 on the podium (hopefully) (max let me have this i beg) tagged: redbullracing, yn.horner

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logansargeant did I not tell you rage rooms were the coolest ever -> oscarpiasrti yeah yeah keep bragging 🙄 -> logansargeant well since you gave me permission-

fan38 at least its a controlled environment to deal with your emotions -> yn.horner thank FUCK i convinced him to do this instead of what Ruben wanted -> rubenholtt what was wrong with egging and tp-ing her house? -> yn.horner uhh everything???

maxverstappen1 I'm not gonna go easy on you just because you grew up 10 minutes from the track -> oscarpiastri BOOOOO 🍅🍅🍅

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user325 AND NOT A SINGLE DISQUAL IN SIGHT -> danielricciardo 😢😢 -> user325 sorry Danny -> danielricciardo 😒🫶

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oscarpiastri what names have you chosen for yours? assuming that whoever they match with has named theirs -> yn.horner their names are confidential i'm afraid -> oscarpiastri boooooo no fun :(

user549 wish my boyfriend did this for me -> user550 babe, we're literally on our way to go buy jellycats -> user549 ok and???

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if you see this, know that you WILL be getting the next update after the Imola GP i promise.

I've been in a really odd spot in my life where I haven't been very motivated to do any writing (or even just creating in general) for long burst of time, which means that any requests I have been sent previously have been sitting in my drafts half finished because I cannot for the life of me find any inspiration to write anything.

I count myself lucky that I had enough motivation and energy to start pre-planning for the rest of this series. If you take a look at the series masterlist you'll notice that there are numbers next to the current chapters and beyond. I've decided that the entire series is going to be 14 chapters in total with a bonus chapter for Oscar and Y/n's shenanigans at the end of the 2024 season.

I can't thank everyone enough for being so incredibly patient with me as I try to work through this writing slump. Slowly but surely I will start uploading fic reqs again

-- Embrose xx