#THE ACCURACY (CRYING; SOBBING)

[icewindandboringhorror]

There's always a slight yearning in the back of my mind wishing I had been born in the right place, time, family situation, income level, etc. to have just lived in one single house for my entire life. Imagine being born in a place that still suits you, even through all of your personal evolutions and etc. The idea of deep familiarity with an area because you've lived and explored it for 40+ years, being encased in a web of memories and connections. Being able to clean out your old childhood bedroom and find personal artifacts, to dig in the yard and remember. I know those lives can still be plenty imperfect, but there's just something so seemingly solid and stable and Grounding about it that I sometimes wish I could have.. (At least from my outside perspective as someone who's moved around a bit geographically and even within the same area, never lives in the same house/ apartment /etc. for more than a few years usually.) Like... having a place that is printed upon, fully your own, rather than chronically a visitor, every thought of a space always tempered with the notion that one day soon you'll have to pack it all up again, etc. There's something peaceful about the permanence.

[epitomees]

when do you gaze at your soulmate?

When they're sleeping

It's not just the way they're at rest. It's that they're at rest with you. It's not just that they're safe but that they feel safe enough to let you see them like this. It's trust and it's intimacy. And you're not sure you're ready for them to see the emotions in your eyes right now. They've been through enough. You both have. Sometimes it scares you just how much you love them. It terrifies you that you feel happy as they lay there, eyes closed and hair a little messy. Their features twitch and you know they're dreaming and it scares you because if you fall asleep too you won't have a nightmare tonight. You'll dream of them. Or nothing at all. And either way it will make you need them more. And you're not supposed to need anyone but it's them. You want to hold them in your arms and never let go. You want to protect them but you know they want to protect you too. This is the kind of love you long for and it's the kind which will hurt if you lose it. But here you are anyway. It's too late now. You're glad it's too late to go back.

Tagged by: @caramialunaestelle Tagging: Whomever wants to experience emotional pain

[hoshifighting]

hi sweetie!<3, hope you are doing fine.

can i request svt angry sex?, idk, it has been on my mind lately, that's the thing.

angry sex with seventeen

WARNINGS: face slapping, slighty anal, fingering, clit stimulation, overstimulation, edging, deepthroat, chocking, slut/bitch shamming, crying, fight, begging, overwhelming...

seungcheol’s anger is real. he’s not one for degrading names, but he makes you kneel and beg for your orgasm, clasping your hands together. “beg,” he commands, you do, and when he finally takes you to the bed, it’s rough, almost careless. he spits for lubrication, sliding into you without preamble. you gasp, desperate to hold in any sounds as he thrusts relentlessly.

jeonghan tries to solve fights with angry sex. it’s a chaotic mess of slaps to your face, your pussy, and overstimulation until you’re begging for him to stop. “you’ll take it,” he snarls, pushing you to your limits. the aftermath is quiet, with him waiting for your egos to cool down before apologizing. “you need to learn your place,” he murmurs, his hands firm on your hips.

joshua’s gentle nature disappears in bed. he holds you down when you squirm, slaps your face when you scream, and bites you when you cry. his cock is pressed to the brim inside you as he demands you to say sorry, slapping you until you get it right. “say it properly,” he hisses, his eyes cold.

junhui feels conflicted, his actions alternating between slapping you and asking if you’re okay. reassured, he continues, surprising you with sex toys. “you’re okay, right?” he checks, even as he’s rough and relentless, ensuring you leave the sex marked and satisfied.

soonyoung’s anger translates into an exhaustive session of every position imaginable, circling your clit until you think it will fall off. your apartment fills with your combined screams, the fight forgotten. later, he cries, regretting solving things this way. “i didn’t want to do this,” he sobs, holding you tightly.

wonwoo is a ticking time bomb. when he finally explodes, there’s no time for preamble. he presses your face against the wall, fucking you roughly. “you’re such a slut,” he growls, his degradation only stopping when you collapse, unable to hold yourself up. afterwards, he’s full of whispered apologies, remorseful for his outburst.

woozi is methodical in his anger. he locks you in a headlock, fucking you from behind while his fingers torment your clit. “you’re such a brat, you never learn” he scolds, relentless until you’re crying after your orgasm. his heart shatters at your tears, but his anger needed an outlet.

minghao dislikes angry sex but knows everyone has limits. when you push him, he denies you the pleasure you seek, edging you without letting you cum. his quiet intensity leaves you desperate and frustrated. “go to sleep,” he says coldly, turning away. the next morning, he wakes you with oral, finally letting you cum as you apologize. “good girl,” he praises softly.

mingyu uses his size to his advantage, throwing you around like a rag doll. he calls you names he’d never use otherwise. “you’re such a bitch,” he snarls, slapping your ass until it’s red. when you’re exhausted and dirty, he kisses you, soothing the sting of his words with tenderness.

seokmin refuses to let you kiss or touch him, only allowing you to cry, moan, and whimper. “just cry for me,” he fucks you in all fours, his nails marking your hips as he slides a finger into your other hole, knowing you love it but are shy about it. he loves seeing you sheepish after saying so many angry things to him. “look at you now,” he taunts, a smirk on his lips.

seungkwan overstimulates you to show how easily he can make you cum, finding your clit in seconds and pistoning your g-spot with talented accuracy. he doesn’t stop until you’re soft in his arms, your sharp answers replaced by soft n' tired whimpers. “remember why you’re like this,” he says, his voice firm.

vernon is quiet, his actions speaking for his rage. he grips your ass brutally, chokes you until you’re slapping his arm for breath, and makes you deepthroat him until your spit is dripping down your face. “take it,” he commands, his eyes dark with anger, something veryrare to see.

chan is a little shit, continuing to bicker even during sex. “you think you’re so smart,” he loves seeing you angry, giving sharp answers until he thrusts so deeply you’re left speechless. “i’m talking now,” he says, a smug grin on his face. “you’ve talked enough.”

[ervotica]

https://x.com/lanadelgothx/status/1792371979900813470?s=46

this with pornstar!patrick

ZOO WEE MAMA

the pure pleasure he gets from eating pussy…😵‍💫 the only sounds in the room the slick, wet sounds of his fist flying over his cock and his slurping lips as he sucks your clit into his mouth, buries his nose between your drooling folds like you’re his last fucking meal.

folds your legs up to your chest to give him ample room to bury his face there, a thick hand pressed to your spasming stomach as his tongue dances across your clit with a frightening accuracy.

he’s so fucking worked up, cock a visceral shade of red - bordering on a purple hue that looks painful - his hand never slowing, never parting with the weeping tip, pre drooling onto the bedsheets below you as his cock leaks like a tap, like a pussy.

he eats your pussy purely for his own pleasure, addicted to the way you involuntarily contort your body to rut your hips further into his waiting mouth, the way you moan and sob for more. muttering praises and affirmations against your pussy’s lips.

“attagirl. she’s crying for me. theeeere you go, get that little pussy wet for me, baby.”

if you think you’re overstimulated now, just wait until he gets his cock in you.

and the viewers go fucking insane for it.

[puck-luck]

give him six | trevor zegras

warnings: extreme domination. EXTREME domination. daddy kink because i do what i want. edging. spanking. cockwarming. at the same time. don’t worry about it. i do what i want. HINTS of anal play but they don’t actually do it. derogatory language (name calling…). crying during sex. sorry! spit kink. had to be done. subspace! ugh need a man to put me in that BAD bad pairing: trevor zegras x fem!reader summary/request: “thinking about trevor zegras needing to fuck his gf roughly after a tough game to let out his frustration bc i can sooooo see him being into that. but he’d always be looking out for u too, saying to tell him if it hurts and checking in to ask if she’s ok, but as soon as she assures him she is he’s just going absolutely nuts not holding back 🫠” wc: 4109

You don’t have to look at Trevor to see how angry he is. He lost a few weeks of hockey due to his broken ankle and now he was back– but he couldn’t make a fucking goal in a shootout to get the win for his team? The worst part was that his shot was denied not by the goalie, but by the post. By the fucking post. 

Trevor loves to flaunt his accuracy in the backyard, in the practice rink, even when tossing trash into the garbage bin, but the one time he doesn’t mean to hit the post, the puck does? It’s idiocracy. It’s humiliating. He’s better than this. He knows it, you know it, the whole world knows it. But St. Louis got to celebrate tonight, and maybe if he hadn’t hit the damn post, then he’d be celebrating with his teammates instead of stewing in your bed. 

His arms are crossed over his chest and the TV isn’t even on– you join him and want to laugh at the image of your pouty boyfriend wallowing in silence. You climb under the covers with Trevor. 

“You did really well, Trev,” you compliment, settling into the mattress.

“We should’ve won,” he replies.

You sigh. “You can’t win them all.”

Trevor scoffs. “Yeah, well, we could’ve won this one,” he snaps.

You stare at him for a moment while his tone really sets in. “You don’t have to talk to me like that,” you say, your voice growing cold. “I wasn’t out on the ice with you.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” He, at least, sounds the part. He covers his face with his hands, the heels of his palms pressed against his eyes. “I just– I’m so mad.”

You take a deep breath. You don’t have to be at work until 9 and it’s about five minutes away if you leave on time. You have to do the laundry tomorrow afternoon anyway. Trevor would feel better if you did this. You really wanted to sleep after the game tonight, but it would be a lie if you said you didn’t want to make him feel better. Another deep breath.

“Why don’t you take it out on me?” You ask.

Trevor looks over at you, surprise written all over his features. “Really?” He asks, like a child who was just told that he could have another candy before bed. “Like last time?”

Last time. You practically start salivating, thinking about how Trevor brought you to the edge and ripped you away from the cliff time after time, until you were sobbing and screaming and begging for a release. 

“Yeah, like last time,” you agree, already a little absent. Trevor notices, of course he does, he’s more in tune with your body than you are at this rate.

A smile tugs on the corner of Trevor’s lips, but he ignores it.

“Hands and knees,” Trevor says. “Right in front of me.”

You position yourself accordingly.

Trevor smooths a hand over your behind, your shirt riding up and exposing your skin due to the position you’re in. You hadn’t worn anything else to bed– why would you? You and Trevor had been together for ages and you weren’t exactly new to his… post-loss coping mechanisms. 

“Elbows,” Trevor corrects. His cock twitches when you immediately drop to your elbows, no hesitation in your movements. You’re silent, like he wants when you play like this, and you’ll do anything he says. You’re gorgeous like this, all spread out and listening to him with your head forward like a good girl, waiting for your next instruction.

You hear his voice over the thumping of your heart, although you’re not sure how. You’re always finding Trevor in the mess of everything. 

“Bite the sheets,” Trevor commands, shimmying out of his boxers. You can hear him moving and you take the bedsheets in your mouth, the fabric almost immediately saturating with your saliva. “Close your eyes.” You slide your eyes shut and wait, your shaky breath filling the room and heating your face.

Something warm probes at your entrance and for a moment, you can’t tell if it’s Trevor’s fingers or his cock. The answer comes to you via a sharp spank on your left cheek, with Trevor’s left hand. He always fingers you with his left hand so that he can keep his right around your neck– the hand that’s currently kneading your other cheek. 

He pushes his cock into you slowly, the movement more like he’s pulling you back than pushing you forward. 

“Six shots,” Trevor muses, watching his cock disappear into you. “Six shots, and I didn’t make one.”

You bite back the reassurance, swallowing it. Trevor doesn’t want to hear it.

“Do you know how that feels?”

You don’t answer. He still doesn’t want to hear it.

“I’ll show you,” Trevor promises, his voice deceptively soft. His hand rests against your skin, heavy and present. 

You get lost in the feeling easily, your mouth full of the comforter and your fingers twisted in the top sheet. Your eyes stay closed, the red-tinged darkness grounding you. 

“Yeah, I’ll show you,” he repeats, his voice darker this time. “You’re going to understand exactly what it feels like to come so close six times, just for all of that to be taken away from you.”

Your eyes open at his words and you pale. You spit the covers out and break your silence. “Six times?” You ask, incredulous. “Trev.”

“Daddy,” Trevor corrects with a spank. “Unless that’s… not what we’re doing tonight?”

You clench down on his length at the contact and the name, your eyes rolling into the back of your head at the sound of his voice. Trevor is playing with you, teasing you. His fingers are walking all over you– the small of your back, your cheeks, down your crack all the way to where he’s buried inside of you… and it’s distracting.

You find yourself nodding. “It is.”

“Good,” Trevor says. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll make the second and third ones quick, okay?”

His voice is full of condescension, like he knows you’re going to lose track of everything as soon as he starts hitting you. He’s right, but that’s neither here nor there.

For as long as you’d been dating Trevor, you’d never seen him tap into the mindset that he has on the ice off the ice. However, when he’s bringing his hand down on your ass, he gets pretty damn close.

His spanks are precise and powerful. He’s leaving pink handprints all over your skin, from the fleshy parts of your ass to the top of your thighs, even a few falls over the hole that he’s not occupying. Each flash of his hand leaves your skin burning and your hips inching upwards, begging for more. All of this, and he’s still inside you– the torture of the spanking is that he isn’t moving, and you’re not supposed to.

You lose track of the count, feeling your stomach flip with each slap. What starts as stinging pain turns into aching pleasure, and the sensations aren’t lost on Trevor.

He feels you jolt each time he brings his hand down on your skin, the clench of your pussy around his cock, the pounding of your pulse from inside of you. Trevor smirks and shifts his hips forward as he brings his hand down, his hand making contact with your asshole just as his tip nudges against your g-spot.

You wail, lurching under Trevor’s watchful eye. You fuck back on his cock once, only managing the movement one measly time, before Trevor stills you with a hand and slides out of you.

“No,” you breathe out, voice muffled by your makeshift gag. 

“Yes,” Trevor replies, smug. “Isn’t it frustrating?”

You glare at him, turning so he can see the look on your face.

All it does is make him laugh. “Well, now I have to really punish you, don’t I?” He asks. “I can’t have my baby making angry faces at me.”

Trevor taps your hip, wordlessly telling you to move. You resume your original position next to him, expecting Trevor to tell you to put your “pretty little hand” on his cock and jerk him until he comes all over your freshly manicured fingers. 

You don’t expect him to slide under the covers and hike up your shirt until your breasts are exposed. Trevor hooks a leg around yours, his mouth exhaling warm air onto your nipple. His fingers tap at your skin, one hand on your side and the other on your mound, making its way south. 

“We’re going to do four like this,” Trevor tells you. His voice is merely a whisper, crawling over in your skin and raising goosebumps in its wake. “Just like this. I’m gonna take one,” he breathes, catching your nipple between his teeth for a split second before continuing. “Right here. Gimme one, baby, just from me licking your tits. I know you can.”

He dives in, tongue first. Your jaw drops as Trevor’s eyes close, the same way you know they do when you kiss him. It’s surreal, seeing him kiss and lick over your skin the way he normally does over your lips. His eyelashes flutter, the long, dark pieces of hair stealing your train of thought. 

Trevor surprises you with how quickly he brings you to the edge again. He promised that the second and third would be quick, but you didn’t know just how quick he meant.

You let out a strangled gasp and your hand flies to Trevor’s hair when he opens his eyes and lets his adoring gaze fix on your face. You pull him off your chest, heaving breaths filling your lungs. 

Trevor smirks, but it never quite reaches his eyes. The same look burns you, makes you shy under his gaze. You blush and look away, one of your hands covering the redness on your cheeks.

“Good,” Trevor remarks, a mere observation. “You got close, didn’t you, baby?”

You nod, still breathing heavily.

Trevor waits, expectant. He tilts his head down and blinks.

“Yes, Daddy,” you concede. “I was close.”

“Honest girl,” Trevor praises. His fingers dance over your slit. “Love you.”

“Love you,” you parrot back to him. 

Trevor rewards you by pushing one finger into your heat, pumping it in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace. 

Your breath stays shaky, your eyes never leaving Trevor’s. His finger drags along your walls, petting the inside of you with its pad, and you swear you can feel the ridges of his fingerprint inside of you if you focus enough. 

It’s hard to focus on that when Trevor’s got his scrutinizing eyes on yours, though.

“What finger is it?” Trevor asks.

“What?” You stammer, finally blinking and breaking the trance. 

Trevor’s other hand flies up to steady your chin before you can look down and ruin his game. “Which finger–” Trevor asks, curling it inside you. “–am I fucking you with?”

Your brain stalls. It’s a no-brainer, really, you should know each of Trevor’s fingers by feel alone with how often they make their way inside of you. However, you’ve been denied two orgasms already and Trevor is close to taking a third from you with just his smug stare.

“Come on,” Trevor goads. “You know which finger this is, baby. The faster you tell me, the faster I get you to your orgasm.”

“Yeah, the faster you take it away,” you reply. 

Trevor’s eyes cloud over and he jams his finger inside you, increasing his pace. “Don’t be a bitch.”

You open your mouth to retort, but Trevor twists his finger inside of you.

“Unless you want me to fuck you like one,” he teases. 

You clench down on Trevor’s finger, his middle finger you realize, when he utters those words.

“You like that?” Trevor asks, unnecessarily. He can feel how you feel about it. “You like the idea of me getting my cock in you and fucking you like a damn animal? What is it, baby? Is it the primal instinct of it all or just the fact that I’m disciplining you like you’re worth less than I am?”

You moan at his words, logical responses and formed sentences too far from you to grasp.

“Tell me.” Trevor nudges your g-spot and you arch your back, your hips grinding against his finger… just for him to draw it out of you. “Not so fast. We’ve still got three more to go.”

“I was close,” you complain.

“So was I,” Trevor counters. “Hurts, doesn’t it? When things don’t work out the way you want them to?” 

“Trevor!” You frown, put off by his game.

“Well, now you’ve really done it,” Trevor growls, shoving two fingers inside of you and resting his thumb on your clit. “You know better than to call me by my name.”

You’re drenched in sweat and slick, so Trevor’s movements aren’t hindered in the slightest, not even when you squeeze your thighs shut. All Trevor does is push them open, trap your thigh under his bony knee. Somehow, even though you just had your legs spread, Trevor seems to push in further and rub your clit faster, hitting every right spot in alternating movements: clit, then g-spot, clit, then g-spot again. And over and over.

You don’t warn him this time, you don’t pull away. You try not to clench down, you try not to rock your hips, you try anything that might get you real relief from a real orgasm without Trevor noticing.

But it’s also a futile effort because your boyfriend knows you that well.

He withdraws his fingers just as your legs, the traitors, begin to tremble.

“Oh, baby, you didn’t think you’d get away with that, did you?” Trevor teases.

“Please,” you beg. “Please, Daddy.”

Trevor’s eyes flash with approval and he teases your entrance again, this time with a third finger. “Don’t worry,” he coos. “We’ve only got two more. Then I’ll let you come.”

You choke on your own spit when Trevor buries his three fingers inside of you, all in one motion. He doesn’t dawdle or stall for time. He doesn’t take advantage of the situation at hand– that you were already shaking for him and a pump of his fingers would give you away to the pleasure just on the other side of your approaching peak.

No, he doesn’t pump his fingers. He just wiggles them as deep as he can get them and smirks before dropping a kiss on your lips. He lowers himself then and blows cool air on your clit, spreading your folds with his other hand so the full bundle of nerves is revealed to him. He leans in and captures it with his tongue, lightly sucking on the bundle. It’s not the most friction he’s ever given you, but it’s consistent. He builds you up on his tongue, slowly, so slowly. 

And when your thighs close around his head, he stops. You’re aching for a release, tears building along your waterline. Your refractory period is shrinking with each near-orgasm, your babbles begging for Trevor to do something.

“I need it,” you beg, but the words feel more like a scream with how heavy they sit on your chest. 

“Oh, I know you need it,” Trevor replies, tone mocking. “You need it so bad, you’re acting up. Talking back, not using my name, not answering my questions, trying to trick me so that you can get an orgasm. I ought to leave you like this, really show you what it’s like to be left frustrated after a disappointing performance.”

“No,” you whimper. “No, Trevor, that’s too much.”

It’s not your word, it’s not a cry of pain, but it still gives Trevor pause. 

“Need me to be sweet to you?” Trevor asks, his eyes genuine and his hair wild from your wandering grasp.

You whine, arching your back. Trevor smiles fondly, but bats you away. When your back makes contact with the mattress again, Trevor’s deft fingers pinch your nipple and cause you to arch up a second time. He pushes you back down.

“Slut,” Trevor chastises. “Think you can distract me with your tits? This isn’t amateur hour, baby. I’ve still got to steal one orgasm from you.”

You blanch at that, your eyes wide. You take in every detail of his face, panting. There isn’t anything you could say that could stop him, except your word, but you’d rather curl into a ball and die than stop this right now. The words don’t come to you to tell him to continue, though.

“I’m going to get you so close,” Trevor whispers, his face close to yours. He leans down and kisses your neck. You arch into him, your once-useless hands finding his sides. You feel over the muscle there, his lean waist and strong chest. “You’re going to be right there, baby, and then I’m going to take it all away.”

“Please,” you repeat, but it’s indecipherable whether you’re begging Trevor to let you come or begging Trevor to leave you wanting more.

“Yeah,” Trevor agrees, sliding his three fingers back into your wet cunt. 

You moan sharply at the intrusion, pumping deep into you this time and dragging along your walls in a torturous way. It feels so good, it has you seeing white specks when you manage to open your eyes and look at Trevor. His eyes are trained on your cunt, watching your wetness seep all over his fingers. When you push his hair out of his face, his eyes lift to meet yours. 

His pupils are blown wide with lust and he’s got a snarl rumbling from deep in his chest. It is primal, you realize, the way he’s bullying his fingers into your cunt without a thought about what you can or can’t handle. He’s taking you, the way that you’ll only ever allow him to do.

“Gonna come?” Trevor asks, the evil smirk overtaking his face again.

“Please,” you beg again.

“‘Please,’” Trevor mocks. “Is that the only word you know?”

He pulses his hand, his fingers bouncing off your walls and causing you to jolt and scramble to find something to hold onto. That something ends up being Trevor’s hair and the pillow to your side. Your chest is heaving again, your nipples taut and pointed and begging to be touched. 

As Trevor’s eyes trail down your body at a snail’s pace, you can feel your orgasm approaching. You yank his hair and he winces, bringing his hand to your neck and squeezing in retaliation.

“Daddy,” you wheeze, the edge of your vision growing fuzzy and dark. It’s the only warning you can give Trevor as the cliff starts to crumble below you, as you start to fall away into the orgasm that was denied from you for so long.

And when Trevor pulls his fingers out of you, he yanks you back onto solid ground.

And, unsurprisingly, you start to cry.

It’s not pretty, either. It’s not a tear here and there when you’re deepthroating your boyfriend, or the beautiful running of mascara as he fucks your face at some hockey event. No, this is full-on sobbing, gut-wrenching cries that have Trevor taking inventory of all the things he did to you, wondering if he pushed you too far. He rubs your thighs with both of his hands in a soothing motion, ignoring the glistening precum that he’s inadvertently rubbing into your skin. 

“Baby,” Trevor murmurs. 

You sob and raise your arms, needing him to hold you. Trevor’s face softens immediately and he pulls you into his chest, turning so he’s sitting with his back against the headboard and you’re awkwardly dangling half on his lap, half off. You keen into his neck, burying your face in his soft, tan skin.

“My girl,” Trevor whispers, rubbing your arms now and pulling you closer to him, comforting you with his warmth. “You’re perfect.”

“Daddy,” you whisper into his neck. “Please.”

Trevor tilts your head back and looks into your eyes. His gaze looks sad, meeting your own, red and puffy. “Please what, baby?”

“I need your cock,” You plead, petting over his stomach with a hand that feels like its made of static. “I need you to make me come, Daddy.”

Trevor groans, sounding pained. He twitches beneath you. “Like this?” He asks.

You nod, losing your words again. It’s a timid but vehement nod, needing Trevor to press inside you more than anything, but not knowing if you could handle another ruined orgasm.

“Please, let me come this time,” you say, trying to look as pathetic and needy as you can. With big doe eyes like this, Trevor has always been bad at denying you the things you want. 

“Yeah, I think I’ve tortured you enough,” Trevor agrees, reaching under you and pressing his cockhead against your entrance. “Give me a bounce, baby. Wanna see your tits jump in front of my face, yeah?”

Trevor snakes his hands around to grab your bottom, his fingers tight against the skin. He uses his leverage to bounce you for him, knowing that you don’t have control over your movements as fucked out as you are, and he’d hate to see you cry more because you’re mad at yourself for not moving the way he wanted you to.

He lifts you up and down, snapping his hips up to meet yours when they fall. His eyes flicker between your boobs and your face, the teartracks drying over your cheeks as you allow yourself to be consumed by ecstasy. One of Trevor’s hands flies upward, tracing over your skin until he threads it between the strands of your hair. Once his whole hand is enveloped in your roots, he tugs and your mouth falls open.

Trevor leans forward and directs a glob of spit down your throat, his forceful hawk causing his spit to find the back of your throat. 

You convulse on top of him, trembling under his watchful gaze and his warm cock. “Daddy,” you pant, feeling like you’re burning and drowning in your desire for him. Trevor slips his thumb into your mouth as you come and you suck on it like a child, grinding against him through your aftershocks.

You’re floating on air by the time your aftershocks cease and Trevor pulls out of you gently, grasping his cock in his fist. He’s watching you and you’re watching him. Never breaking eye contact, you open your mouth and stick your tongue out.

Trevor presses his tip to your tongue and strokes his cock, squeezing on the downstroke and groaning curses with each turn of his hand. He comes just seconds later, his white ropes of come gracing your tastebuds. He pulls away after only a few drops intersect with your tongue, continuing to come in spurts over your cheeks, lips, and nose. A bit of come drips down the tip of your nose and you poke your tongue out again to try and catch it, which makes Trevor laugh.

Still lost in your post-orgasm haze, you barely notice when Trevor leaves the bed and comes back with a moist towel. He wipes your face, then your thighs and pussy, dropping a kiss on your lower belly after he’s finished. You let out a breath at that, not knowing that you were holding it, astounded by the fragility and intimacy of the moment.

“Daddy,” you say out loud, mostly just to yourself. Mostly just to feel the word on your tongue, feel it take its shape in your mouth. It sounds like awe.

Trevor deposits the towel in the hamper across the room with a toss, proving yet again that his precision and accuracy are off the charts most of the time. He crowds your space, tracing your features with his delicate pinky. “Did Daddy make you feel good, baby?” Trevor asks. “You made Daddy feel good.”

You whine at that and almost want to cry again at the praise. All the time you spent wondering if you were good enough, if you’d ever get a boyfriend who loved you and stayed with you was worth it when you found Trevor. He always said the right things, made you feel things you’d never felt before. 

“I love you,” you say.

Trevor slips his thumb into your mouth, watching your eyes close in bliss as he presses it against your tongue. You can still taste where he was rubbing your pussy with this digit.

“I love you,” he replies, voice soft. His voice sounds like awe, too.

note: small town girl chapter 1 next! (hopefully)

[salbei-141]

Daddy Issues (John Price x Reader)

Masterlist

word count: 1.4k

warnings: 18+, fluff, angst, comfort, suggestive themes, daddy issues, confession, praise, etc.

a/n: I have exams, but this obviously takes priority (if y'all are doing exams, go revise loves, don't be silly and procrastinate like me, I believe in y'all more than I do me)

I can't lie I may be tempted to write a smutty part 2 to this I dunno...Price is a DILF and I know me and you both got daddy issues - I'm writing Captain Price fanfic after all, and you're consuming it, so I feel like part 2 is may be necessary...

Code name: Scarlet

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had missed 48% of your shots today, which was well below your usual average accuracy score. You felt yourself getting frustrated knowing you were better than this - you were a good soldier, you had made it to Task Force 141 all by yourself despite the setbacks.

Reloading your pistol, you moved yourself into the correct position and breathed in deeply, then pulled the trigger. You watched as it hit the outermost line on the target. What was with you today? You stood in silence staring at the target feeling dread crawling up your spine - maybe you weren't as good of a soldier as you'd believed you were. You felt yourself remembering the harsh words of your father reminding you that you were just a useless little girl.

Huffing to yourself, you slammed the gun down in front of you, rubbing your hands over your face, feeling that stinging in your throat. Were you really about to start crying? "Get a fucking grip", you muttered to yourself.

That's when you heard the familiar heavy footsteps of your captain. And before you knew it, his voice was coming from behind you, making you shiver lightly with its deep rumble, "You'll have some catching up to do Scarlet - Gaz and Soap are way ahead of you".

You don't know what it was, but the blatant disappointment in his voice had you wanting to hide away and sob - you were supposed to be his best soldier. The frustration and upset overwhelmed your senses, and you turned to face Price with a stoic expression and snappy tone, "Look can you just fuck off? You think you're making this any easier by standing there and breathing down my neck telling me I'm not good enough?".

He looked surprised - you had never snapped at him like this before, especially in front of other soldiers. He then knitted his brows together, staring deeply into your eyes with a blank expression that felt like the calm before the storm and spoke with a low tone, "Get in my office y/n." He watched as your eyebrows furrowed further and your eyes grew darker, as you went to open your mouth and assumedly defy his order, "Now y/n", you shut your mouth instantly and walked to his office as he towed behind while there was a gentle echo of whispers behind you.

As you opened the door to the office you walked into the centre of the room staring outside the window overlooking the premises. You refused to take a seat - it was defiant, but you also didn't want to get comfortable, you knew you'd fucked up royally.

The fire in you just 5 minutes ago had dwindled - you weren't aggressive to your peers, let alone your superior. But you bit at him - you weren't an aggressive person, just overwhelmed - you hadn't meant it.

You stood rigid and on edge - unsure how Price was going to respond to you. You watched as he rounded you, opting to stand tall in front of you, instead of sitting at his desk as you had hoped for.

"Want to explain what the fuck that was?" He stared down at you with piercing eyes that you were struggling to hold your gaze with his, his voice was gruff and stern.

The fire had dwindled in you completely, and you didn't know what to do or how to respond. You stared up at him looking lost - completely bewildered by your own actions, "I'm...sorry"

He watched as your eyes glazed over, he hadn't expected this when you were raising your voice at him mere moments before.

"What?", his brows furrowed confused by your sudden shedding of tears. You weren't an overly emotional individual and he'd never seen you shed tears during some of your most harrowing missions together.

You looked up at him ashamed - feeling like that useless little girl your father had said you always were, "I said I'm sorry John".

The use of his first name changed everything - it felt informal - he felt like he needed to comfort you as a friend, not as your superior.

"Come here y/n", he beckoned you into his arms, letting you wrap your arms around him and softly cry into his chest. He gently ran his fingers through your hair - unsure of what you needed from him right now, but the calming of your breaths reassured him that he was doing enough.

"What’s wrong?”, he pulled back slightly to see your face - your cheeks had flushed red and your eyes remained glossy with tears.

You shift your eyes around him, trying to avoid his gaze and his question. However, you feel as he gently lifted your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his as he waited for an answer.

“I’m just…overwhelmed”, he raised a brow at this - it was obvious that there was more going on.

“Can you tell me why?”, he sounded so gentle - he genuinely wanted to know - he cared.

You continue holding his gaze feeling the newly familiar burn in your throat as you tried to keep your tears at bay - not that it worked as you felt a few escape and trail down your cheeks again, being caught by John's thumb as he wiped them away.

“Do I disappoint you, John?”

"What?", he looked confused - you were probably his most hard-working soldier - getting this far wasn't easy, and it certainly wouldn't have happened if you were a disappointment.

“Do you ever think that I was a poor choice for 141?”, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing - he’d never doubted your abilities since the day he saw your first induction day to the SAS.

"Not at all love, why?"

"You said that I was falling behind...and my father used to tell me if I wasn't the best then I was just another person wasting everyone's time pretending to be something I wasn't, so I should just give up", you held your breath - never having admitted that.

He held your face gently, "Your father's a fucking idiot then love", you chuckled softly and he smiled seeing this - you weren't the same little girl your father would relentlessly put down; if your 10-year-old self could see you know, she'd be so proud of you, you knew that. John was right - your father was a fucking idiot.

"I couldn't be prouder to have you as a member of 141...but you're more than just a soldier love - I think the only time you've disappointed me was the day you got shit-faced with Johnny after your birthday last year"

You stared at him confused, absentmindedly placing your hands over his wrist that held your face, "Why?"

His tone changed - you'd never heard it come from him, "Because I had planned to ask you out -and finally taste those lips of yours"

Your cheeks felt hot as you blushed, shocked by his confession, "Why haven't you said anything?"

He leaned slightly closer to you, smelling the perfume that clung to your skin, "Lost the courage like the idiot I was"

You smile at him, your eyes having dried from the previous tears, "Well don't be an idiot again".

He chuckled lowly, "Don't plan on it love".

He pulled you closer to him, leaning down to meet your lips, kissing you softly, tasting the salt that lingered on your lips. He felt as you gently nipped his lip, feeling the way you smiled into him. He gently pushed you up against his desk, intensifying the kiss, as you both started to feel hotter, your senses overwhelmed by your captain as you felt his body pressed against yours. You gently pushed at his chest, making him pull away and look down at you - your pupils were blown, making him smirk.

"Take me on a date first?"

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead and spoke lowly, "Of course love - as much I want to fuck you against my desk right now, I think I'd rather take you out first and fuck you in my bed, hm?"

You blushed hard at him, "Maybe you'll get to fuck me against your desk another time"

"I hope so love", he smirked stepping away and holding his hand out to you, "Best get back out there before someone comes to check on you thinking I've lost it on you, huh?"

You smiled at him stepping around him to leave, "Good girl", you stopped in your tracks, ready to turn back around.

"Didn't tell you to stop", you sighed as you heard his low laugh as you left his office to go back to your target - everything before being forgotten as your Captain preoccupied your mind for the rest of the day.

[marril96]

A Cry in the Night

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: Agatha is the only person you can turn to after accidentally killing ten people.

You weren't a violent person, far from it, which was why, when you killed ten people in the span of five seconds and felt good about it, you freaked the fuck out and started screaming as if you were being actively murdered.

Which was what had led to you killing ten people in the first place, and was also part of what had made you freak out, alongside the act of murder itself. But, for the most part, what scared you the most about the entire ordeal was the sheer and utter joy at the realization that they were dead and you were not, and that it was all thanks to your magic doing your dirty work for you.

Deep in the forest, no one could hear you scream. No one had heard you the first time, when they'd chased you here, when they'd cornered you and pointed their weapons and hurled insults, and you'd begged for someone to come and save you.

No one did.

You were alone.

You were scared.

You snapped.

It was self defense, really. They were the ones who were going after you. But who was going to believe you? Who was going to believe that a witch was in fear of her life against ten regular, powerless human beings?

You would go to prison.

The thought made you scream louder, throat raw and dry. It hurt, but you couldn't stop.

Your life was over.

Even if you remained free, the reputation of a killer would haunt you for the rest of your life.

No one cared about the truth when it came to pointing fingers at witches.

Not even other witches.

Blood stained the ground around you, chunks of flesh and bone, big and small, strewn about like a macabre exhibition. The barks of trees were painted scarlet. How in the hell were you going to hide this? Should you hide it?

Yes. You absolutely should. No one could know about what you had done. No one could know how exhilarating it felt to take their lives just as they were about to take yours.

You'd been judged enough by the people in your life.

This needed to be taken care of.

But how?

What were you going to do?

Agatha. The name rang in your head like an echo. The first thing that came to mind. The first — and only — solution.

If anyone would understand, it was her.

She loved to kill people.

She wouldn't judge you for doing the same.

Would she?

Your phone was in your hand before your brain had time to catch up to your thoughts. As if on autopilot, you typed her number in and pressed the call button. Hers was one of the few numbers you knew by heart. She was always there when you needed company, or a pity party, or a one night stand. Always eager to entertain, to have a bit of fun.

Here was to hoping she would be just as eager to help you hide dead bodies — or what was left of them, anyway.

Agatha answered on the second ring. Clearly not in the mood to have been woken up at three am, sleep heavy in her voice, she said, "Someone better be dead."

The accuracy of her statement only made you freak out more. Reality was setting in, punching you in the face, the gut, the heart. People were dead. And they were dead because of you. They would never get to see their children grow up. They would never get to play with their grandchildren. They would never get to grow old and experience life.

Because you took it from them.

You took their lives.

"They are," you said in your weakest, tiniest voice. Then a sob that burned your throat broke out of your mouth, and you were bawling like a child. It hurt to breathe, to think, to exist. It hurt to cry, but the tears kept coming, and your lungs kept stinging, and you were shaking, and it took the last remnants of your strength to keep your phone from tumbling out of your hands.

"Y/N?" Your name was a soothing melody on Agatha's mouth. She knew this was serious, that something was wrong, and you had her full attention. "What happened, honey?"

"Agatha," you said meekly. "Help me. Please, help me."

This was beyond a mere want. You needed her.

"Gladly, but I need to know what you need help with," she said. "Are you in danger?"

Not anymore. "N-No."

"Are you hurt?"

Very. "No."

"Then what's wrong?"

Another sob. Your legs trembled, threatening to give way, to send you crashing to the ground. You gripped the closest tree for support.

"They're dead. They're all dead, and it's all my fault."

You murdered them. And you enjoyed every moment of it.

The thought made your stomach churn.

"Okay, hon, tell me where you are," Agatha said. No judgment in her tone. No accusation.

"I don't know. In a forest." You knew that much. Aside from that, crickets. "There's blood everywhere. Agatha, there's blood everywhere."

Around you. On you. Staining your clothes. Glued to your skin.

"That's okay," she assured you. "One thing at a time, okay? I will find you, and then we'll deal with the blood."

"You will find me?" You wanted her to promise you. To make good on it.

You needed her, and you needed her now, and you didn't know how much longer you could keep yourself from falling apart for you were well on your way there.

"I will find you."

Not long after you hung up the phone, a crackle of branches startled you. Jumping to your feet, you turned in the direction of the sound. Your eyes glowed in warning, sparks of magic bubbling at your fingertips, bright and vivid in the dead of night.

"Whoa there, tiger," the familiar voice said, and the building panic instantly dissipated.

Agatha.

She had found you.

Just as she had promised.

"We don't want an accident, do we?"

Because if you were to blast her, she would suck every last bit of magic from you and leave you a withered corpse on the ground. Not on purpose, of course; she couldn't control this power of hers, couldn't contain it.

That was part of the reason you trusted her with this. Her power made her kill people, even when she didn't want to, so she learned to live with it. She had to learn to deal with it. Taking a life — or two, or five, or a hundred — didn't bother her. She never would have survived for this long if it did.

She could fix this,

She could help you.

Taking in a deep, calming breath, you willed your magic back. The danger had passed, you told yourself. You were safe. There was nothing to be afraid of anymore.

"I-I'm sorry," you said.

"You've got nothing to apologize for," Agatha told you, and you knew she meant every word.

As soon as the last spark from your fingers faded, she was at your side, arms out, warm and welcoming. You allowed her to envelop you into a hug and melted into her. She didn't care that you were covered in blood from head to toe. She didn't care that your surroundings were littered with the remains of your victims.

All she cared about was you.

This was the side of her nobody but few select people knew was there. Her heartless bitch reputation proceeded her; nobody cared that, beneath the cold, uncaring exterior, there was a person who loved and hurt and bled just like everyone else.

She wasn't the monster that everyone had made her out to be. The facade was there for her protection.

You stood like that for a few moments. Agatha allowed you to cry, allowed you to let it all out in a safe environment. The worst had passed. Now that she was here, everything was going to be all right. She would make sure of it.

Once you had calmed down enough to stand on your own two feet without crumbling into pieces, she took a step back, gently brought her hands to your stained cheeks, and said,"What happened?"

Her eyes, usually piercing and intense, were as soft as her voice. A reminder — an exclamation — that you weren't in trouble. That she wasn't going to judge you, or mock you, or put you down. That she was here for you, first and foremost.

Judgment was all she knew about her entire life. Her own mother — the one person in the world who was supposed to cherish her, love her, protect her — had thought her evil, irredeemable from the very start. All because she happened to be born with a power no one had even attempted to understand or help her control.

She wasn't going to do that to anyone else.

She wasn't going to do that to you.

"They chased me here," you said.

You first saw them eyeing you at the bar, but you'd thought nothing of it. A big group of friends eyeing other patrons wasn't unusual; drunk people tended to do worse things. One of the girls among their group had asked you to join them. You'd politely declined; you didn't socialize with strangers.

You thought that was that, until they'd followed after you on your way out of the bar and formed a circle around you in the parking lot.

You'd flashed your magic.

They'd flashed their weapons, and they'd said you were dead. That they'd been hunting you for days.

Summoning all the power you could muster, you'd blasted them and ran. You weren't going to die at the hands of witch hunters. Not in the twenty first fucking century.

"They had weapons," you said, fresh tears spilling down your face, over Agatha's fingers. "They were everywhere, and I couldn't run anymore, and I just wanted them to go away and leave me alone."

You hadn't set out to kill anyone tonight.

They were the ones with murder on their minds.

All you wanted was to protect yourself. To save your life.

"And then it got hot, and my power just… It burst out, and there was blood everywhere."

Agatha pondered on your words. "Witch hunters."

"Yeah."

"You did good," she said. "You protected yourself. Don't you dare feel bad about that."

It was easy for her to say that. She'd spent centuries perfecting the act of not caring.

You, on the other hand, had never taken a life before.

A hard lump formed in your throat; you swallowed it, hissed as it burned your insides on the way down. "It felt good," Here it was. Now or never. "It felt really good."

It had almost felt better than your and Agatha's countless one night stands through your centuries of friendship when one of you — or both — happened to be in the mood.

Agatha quirked up an eyebrow. "What did?"

"Killing them." Your voice cracked before the second word was out. "It made me feel…" Exhilarated. High. "Alive."

She smiled. Was that pride painted over her face? "And what's wrong with that?"

Everything. Everything was wrong with that. Murder wasn't supposed to feel good. It wasn't supposed to fill you with joy, with relief that it was your victims who were dead instead of you.

Were they victims, though?

Did it matter?

"Why did it feel like that? Why wasn't I scared?"

Why weren't you horrified with your actions? Why was your first thought to defend yourself, to make excuses?

Why didn't you care about them at all?

"Because you survived," Agatha said. "You fought like hell and you survived like the witch that you are. Don't you ever feel guilty for that."

Why shouldn't you? What made your life more valuable than theirs?

"I've never killed anyone before." You'd sworn to yourself that you never would. And then this happened. Mere seconds, and your body count had gone from zero to ten.

It wasn't even a conscious decision to do it. Your magic felt that you were in danger, and it reacted. You had wanted them to die — better them than you — and then they did, and it was awesome.

The thought made you sick.

Agatha grinned. "Every witch's gotta pop their cherry someday."

Did they? Were all witches destined to be killers?

Was it written in your DNA?

"We-We're meant to kill people?"

"Kill or be killed. It's the only way to survive in this world.."

She wasn't wrong there. Every witch you knew had a story or two of needing to defend their lives, be it from hunters, or from other witches. The world was cruel to your kind.

Even your own kind was cruel to your kind, as Agatha could very well attest to. She'd been a target practically from the moment she was born, despised by her own coven. By her own mother.

"You killed. You lived," she continued. "Don't dwell on it too much."

"How can I not?" you demanded for you saw no way out of this turmoil. There was a storm inside you, destroying you bit by bit, eating at your soul like acid. No matter how many times you tried to get it to stop, to rein it in, it kept on raging. Guilt the girth of which you'd never experienced before. Regret that stung like a hornet's prick. "I feel like I'm gonna explode. It hurts so much."

Softly, gentle, as if she were comforting a child, Agatha pressed her forehead to yours. She was so warm. So strong, power radiating out of her every pore. For the first time tonight, you felt truly safe. "The first time is always the worst."

"I'm scared," you whimpered.

One of her hands reached for yours and squeezed it. "You've got nothing to be scared of. No one's gonna hurt you."

"What if someone finds out?"

"Let them. There's nothing they can do. All they've got are words, and words are nothing. You're safe."

"I don't want people to hate me."

"What's it matter if they do?"

"They hate you." And, despite her insistence that she didn't care, that she enjoyed the infamy, you knew it bothered her. It hurt her. Everyone she'd ever known had turned against her. That was bound to leave a mark on a person.

Agatha was silent for a moment. Then, softly, she said, "You don't hate me."

"I could never hate you." You knew her too well — loved her too much — to ever be able to.

"I could never hate you." She repeated your words back to you with the utmost delicacy and ease, as if she'd been waiting a long time to say them out loud. As if she'd been waiting for the appropriate moment to be honest, to speak from her heart.

That was why she was the first person you'd thought to call. Sure, she teased you at times and engaged in sarcastic exchanges with you, but she'd never — not once — judged you.

She would never make you feel bad over something you had no control over for she knew how it felt to be kicked while she was down.

"Will you help me?" you muttered.

Agatha smiled. "You don't even have to ask."

No, you didn't. You never did, yet you always asked, anyway. Because it felt good to hear a yes from her mouth.

It felt good to have Agatha Harkness in your life.

"Do me a favor, though," she said.

"Yeah?"

"Don't feel bad for protecting yourself. There is nothing wrong with finding joy in defending your life."

"I'll try," you promised.

Lucky for you, you had the best teacher by your side.

*****

Tags: @werewolfbarbie @miss-moon-guardian @hermslore @uniquelesbianidiot @natashamaximoff1 @werewolfvpire @alsoknownasmel @swan-queen-is-magic @tardisesandtitans @midnight-lestrange

[absurdthirst]

Kinktober 2024: October 29th

Day 29: Branding // Hunter - Prey // Uniforms

Pero Tovar x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Forced marriages, escaping/running, being chased, slightly dubious consent, vaginal sex, rough sex

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

You can hear the dogs barking, the hounds going crazy for your scent. Hunting you, chasing you down. 

Your dress is in tatters, ripped and muddy, heavy around your ankles as the slippers you are wearing provide no protection from the sticks and stones that cover the ground you have to trek. 

It’s a race for freedom, for escape. It feels useless with the number of coins that have been offered for your return. Your very life depends on not being caught but the sounds of the horses get closer, the pounding of their hooves sealing your fate. 

You are running for your very life, the man you are to marry is more monster than man. Sure to kill you like he had killed his other wives. Terrified of him and the scar that bisects his left cheek, a reminder of his violent nature every time you had look upon him. 

The stream is nearby. Stumbling to your knees, you cry out in pain when your knees hit the stones and you feel the bite of the rough surface scratching against your palms and cutting them. 

Panting, you struggle to your feet, nearly falling again and cursing your sex. If you were wearing trousers, you would be farther than you have made it. 

Pushing away the need to sob as you clutch your hands and rush towards the water that could conceal your scent from the hounds. It could provide you an escape. 

The pounding of the horses' hooves gets closer, breaking through the clearing and you hear a shout of your name. Making you scream as you break into an awkward run. One last push to get away. 

He swoops in, leaping off the beast’s back and snatching you up by your waist. Your flailing is no use against his strength and agility. He has been a mercenary his entire life, only newly made a lord after saving the king’s life. 

“Let me go!” Your kicking and beating on his arms does nothing but make him chuckle. Amused by your feeble attempts to rescue yourself from your fate. 

“Never.” He growls the word into your ear, holding tight to you and carrying you off towards the small cave. Whistling to his horse, you curse the beast as he dutifully turns and follows his master. 

The sounds of the dogs faded, the men who had been riding with Pero Tovar obviously moving in a different direction, but it is no use. He has you. Not letting you go even as you fight him every step of the way. Screaming out curses and struggling to get out of his tight grip. His prize to have. 

The rain starts to beat down on you right before he reaches the edge of the cave, soaking your already soaked dress and making him spit out a curse that is the only grim satisfaction you will have. Dropping you to the cold ground and reaching for his belt. 

His attack is quick, fierce. His lips smashing agaisnt yours and his tongue forcing it’s way into your mouth as his hands unlace his breeches and push your skirts up to your hips. 

“Per-” 

With an accuracy that forces the air out of your lungs with a sharp yelp, Pero drives into you. Burying his cock deep with a hiss of pleasure when your walls squeeze him and he immediately starts to rock into your body harshly. 

“Fuck.” He growls, his weight pinning you down and holding you in place while he takes you. Claims you. Ruins you. “You will never escape me.” He promises, kissing  you again so you cannot argue with him. Swallowing your sounds down greedily as he ruts on top of you. Your cunt aches, stretched out on his thick cock and you fear that he will split you in two. 

His grunts are harsh, rough, just like he is. Greedy for the softness and pleasure your body brings him, he pushes inside you again and again. Feeling how tight you are, how your cunt takes him with ease. 

Your fingers dig into his hair and you pull it, but that just makes him fuck you harder. Snapping his hips forward with a determination to breed you right here in this cave. To make sure that everyone knows that you are his no matter how often you try to run from him. You will never make it far. You are the prey and he is your hunter. 

Your body heats up, cunt weeping from his cock hammering into it and your stomach twists in pleasure. Starting to thrash under him for another reason rather than trying to escape. Your moan makes him chuckle breathlessly. 

“That’s it.” He growls. “Moan for me. Your cunt wants me, even if you don’t. I will just keep you pinned to the bed with my cock, no?” He flashes a grin as he thrusts deep again and you cry out. “Good girl.” He hisses when your walls clench down. “Taking my cock so good.” 

You want to hiss and spit at him, but you can’t. Not when every drive of his hips takes away your ability to speak. To even think, so you just yank on his hair again. 

That spurs him on. Another bruising kiss slotted against your lips and his tongue curling into your mouth to tangle with yours. He loves this. The chase is in his blood. He is a hunter and now he has his prize. 

Squeezing your eyes closed, you squeal into his mouth, your body shaking under his when he pushes deep and presses against something incredible inside you. Making stars burst behind your eyes and your cunt gushes around the ever deeper thrusts of his cock. 

Pero groans, his pace faltering when he feels your walls quivering around him, plunging deep and painting your walls with hot spurts of his sticky seed. Planting his seed deep in the hopes that it takes. 

Your limbs feel heavy and your hands fall away from his hair, listening to him pant against your neck before he starts to chuckle. “You almost made it to the river this time, amor.” He rasps out, squeezing your hip and twitching inside you. Your walls contract around his softening cock and you huff as he kisses your neck softly. 

“I did, but the damn dogs were rushing me.” You point out. 

“Just like the first time you ran from me.” He hums in amusement. 

“I really was scared of you then.” It seems so silly to have been so afraid of your husband so many years ago. How you had listened to the rumors of his brutality. 

“Come, the servants will have your bath ready when we get home.” He murmurs, pulling back and slowly pulling out of your body. 

Home. A place you had once feared and now delighted in returning to. You had run and he had caught you, both of you discovering you had delighted in the chase and now this game had been born of it. Marking the yearly anniversary of your initial race for freedom and your mercenary catching you. 

[ayyy-imma-ninja]

hey meg! i love the thumbnails you do on laes videos, makes me happy every time i see them!

how do you feel about the recent "What If Solar's Sun Lived? IN VRCHAT" ep? (if you watched it)

made me cry, i really wish solar's sun lived maybe they would have a chance to save him :(

bro I sobbed- QwQ

we finally got to see what Daydream was like, and he was everything many of us had theorized: gentle and sweet, very caring and considerate towards Solar.

He loved him so much and saw him as part of the family...

What hurts even more is, in reality Io (what I call Solar's Moon) wouldn't let Solar near Daydream as he began to wither away. So Solar couldn't be there in his final moments.

Yet based on that 99.9999% accuracy rating, I am willing to bet Daydream's last words to Solar in that simulation, were in fact his last words.

And that tears me up inside QwQ

But I'm glad Solar managed to get some closure after this.

[another-lost-mc]

haiiii <3 i hope u're doing well! if u don't mind, can i request hcs for the brothers on how they would react to a mc (i don't mind whether it's female or gender-neutral so up to u!) who's a high achiever in human world but struggle a lot and probably fail their classes in devildom? thx so much!! feel free to ignore if u don't feel like writing this <3

When High Achiever!MC Struggles at RAD Headcanons | THE DEMON BROTHERS 2.4k words | SFW | gn!Reader | Hurt/Comfort | Fluff A/N: I resonate a lot with this prompt because I struggled with perfectionism as a student. It would've been a disaster if I was suddenly dropped in the Devildom and expected to do well somehow. lol

You stare at the paper in your hands. Your professor hands back this week’s quiz stating that the class scores are excellent, for the most part. There are a few muffled giggles around you, and you stare at the failing grade circled in red and resist the urge to cry in front of your classmates.

In the human world, you were an excellent student. You studied hard, completed your homework every night, finished all your assigned readings, and always left yourself an extra day or two to proofread your written work for errors and accuracy.

In the Devildom, you still do all those things but it doesn’t matter whether it’s a quiz or an assignment - your marks are horrible. Not just horrible by your standards, either.

Some of the professors approach you quietly after class and suggest remedial classes or private tutoring to help you. Other professors, the ones who are less sympathetic to your struggles, sneer when they hand back your work like you’re a perfect example of how humans are so weak.

The walk home from RAD is a blur. The demon brothers chat animatedly around you, but you aren't paying them much attention.

“We’re gonna order takeout for dinner tonight,” Mammon grins when you walk through the front door behind him. He waves his credit card in your face. “My treat. Whatcha want from Hell’s Kitchen?”

“I’m not hungry,” you mutter when you brush past him. You move through the clump of demons in the hallway and head to your room. Your bag slips off your shoulder to the floor, and you fall face-down on your bed and finally let yourself cry.

You don’t know how long you sob into your pillow, cursing yourself for your failures and wishing you never came here, until there’s a soft knock on your door and a familiar voice calling your name.

LUCIFER

Lucifer knows about your poor grades. Your professors have spoken to him and Barbatos more than once, since they’re the ones in charge of overseeing the student exchange program at RAD. Compared to the other exchange students, your consistently below-average or failing grades are a concern.

He’s going to consider your poor marks as a reflection of their program’s efficacy and not a personal failure on your part. Solomon and the Angels score higher in classes than you, but that makes sense - they’re all more familiar with the fantastical concepts you’re learning about for the first time.

He looks over your recent tests and written work to figure out the best solution. It’s obvious that it’s the overwhelming amount of Devildom knowledge and history you’re lacking, not your technical writing skills or your ability to comprehend the stacks of textbooks on your desk.

He reminds you as gently as he can that you’re part of an experimental program, and it’s not perfect. He asks for your input because your unique perspective and experience can make the program better for future students. It’s your chance to help improve the school’s image, and Diavolo’s reputation, so that hopefully the three realms can truly have a harmonious future.

In the meantime, he tries to keep a better eye on your well-being and your academics. It’s a difficult task because his time is already split between student council responsibilities and keeping his brothers in line. He knows that his brothers cause as much mischief for you as they do for him.

He offers you the use of his private study where you won’t be disturbed if you want peace and quiet. You don’t have to ask permission, either - you can use it whether he’s there or not. He shows you his collection of records you can listen to if you’d like to play some music while you study. (He puts the dangerous cursed records away where you won’t accidentally use them.)

If there happens to be a new kettle and a porcelain tea set and tin of your favourite tea on a shelf nearby, it’s just a coincidence. You’re welcome to use them as much as you’d like, though - he insists.

MAMMON

Mammon has a hard time believing that your grades are as bad as you say they are. You’re so smart, and he knows you work so hard. You’re the one shooing him away from your room when there’s an essay or big test coming up, telling him that you need to focus. He doesn’t like it, but he understands. The worst part is, you do all that and his grades are still better than yours - and he’s not even trying!

He’s going to blame everything and everyone except you for your academic difficulties. Diavolo and Barbatos should’ve anticipated this when they designed the exchange program, the professors shouldn’t be such assholes about it, Lucifer should’ve been helping you more, his brothers should leave you alone…

(He ignores your snarky comment about how demons shouldn’t be kidnapping random humans to begin with.)

Unfortunately, he doesn’t have a solution or a quick-fix to offer you. If such a thing existed, he would’ve gladly bought and paid for it by now. He knows he has a carefree approach to school, so he’s not going to pretend he’s got good advice for you.

No, Mammon is going to focus on being your friend instead. He’s going to keep those bully classmates off your back and keep you company between classes. He’s going to visit your room and make sure you take breaks and let yourself have a little bit of fun, because he doesn’t like seeing you stressed and unhappy. He’s going to remind you every way he knows how that he fuckin’ adores you no matter what your grades are.

LEVIATHAN

Leviathan isn’t surprised that you’re struggling. He thinks there’s too much homework, and he knows a lot of the content and history already. It’s no surprise that a normie human like you might be flunking out. 

Since he’s taken some of RAD’s classes online, he’s giving you his notes and study guides. There’s some online study groups he’s going to invite you to in case you'd like to talk to other students learning the same material you are.

Watching you struggle reminds him that it would be so much easier to do everything online. If you prefer to learn or connect with your classmates virtually, then he’s going to advocate for more investment in RAD’s remote learning capabilities. Wouldn’t it be fun to stay home together and do that instead?

He tries not to bother you when he knows you’re stressed about a test or a project, but he misses his Henry when you lock yourself in your room all the time. He hates that you’re so unhappy with your grades. So what if you’re not exactly a booksmart here in the Devildom? You’d ace every test if it were about things that actually mattered, like TSL or your favourite anime series.

He’s not as motivated to do well in school, but he is motivated to help you, in his own way. That usually means inviting you to his room so you can do homework together between matches of Super Smash Devils. Games are a great way to relieve stress, after all!

SATAN

Satan is aware of your poor grades, but he’s not going treat you like Lucifer does and make you go to him like some sort of supplicant begging for help. He’s going to invite himself to your room, or drag you to the library, or drag you to his room, and you’re going to succeed with him as your tutor.

He knows that a proper foundation is crucial to helping you learn about Devildom history, culture, and magic. Satan is going to look over your work and go over the basics with you after he figures out how the school’s curriculum is failing you.

Perhaps exchange students should be placed in modified introductory courses?

That might be a solution for future students but for now, he’s taking you back to basics. He guides you through the fundamentals you’re missing so that the more advanced topics actually make sense. He soothes your frazzled nerves when you struggle with remembering certain historical events. When you start to improve, he praises your correct answers so that he can finally see the radiant smile on your face, the one that he loves so much.

When you're both in desperate need of a break, he invites you to join him on his bed, or on the sofa in the library. He has a book open in his lap -a lighthearted story, something easy to follow - and reads to you. You can hear the smile in his voice as you drift off to sleep.

(Later on, when one of his brothers find both of you asleep, Satan's arms wrapped gently around you, they throw a blanket over both of you and dim the lights.)

ASMODEUS

Asmodeus is going to gather you in his arms and hold you close while he brushes away your tears and tells you how much he adores you. You’re too hard on yourself. He thinks you’re focusing too much on all the things you struggle with and not enough on the things he admires about you. 

He can see what happens when you get frustrated and depressed about your grades. You don’t smile as much anymore, the dark circles under your eyes become more prominent, your clothes fit a bit looser and it hurts him when you treat yourself badly like this. You didn’t do anything wrong and it's not your fault.

It just so happens that he loves pampering you any chance he gets, so don’t be surprised if he’s dragging you away from your desk for a mandatory R&R break in his room. You wince when his fingers dig into the knots in your back and shoulders, but he can feel the moment when you finally stop fighting and let yourself relax.

He’ll talk to you about school, but only if you bring it up first. Otherwise, he’s keeping your mind off things by talking to you about something he saw on Devilgram, or he’s asking your opinion about a new Majolish collab he’s designing.

Oh, how about a shopping spree tomorrow, just the two of you? No objections! He’ll let you choose where to go for dinner since he’s not picky. Afterwards, there’s a new boutique he wants to check out - the clothes they have are stunning, and he’s in the mood to spoil you.

BEELZEBUB

Beelzebub won’t lie and say he understands what you’re going through, because he doesn’t. Not exactly. He struggles with school sometimes, but that’s because 90% of the time he’s distracted by hunger or food, and the rest is him getting caught up in his hectic club schedule. 

You’re kind to him and so thoughtful when it comes to asking what he’s like for dinner, or if he wants some of your leftovers. He doesn’t always have the right words to say like Lucifer or Satan, and he’s not as adventurous as Mammon or Asmo, but he’s going to work hard to distract you and support you the best he can.

His biggest concern is whether you’re eating enough, and he’s not going to let you skip meals or rush from the table after a couple bites. He reminds you that being hungry and undernourished is going to make it even harder to focus. He makes a conscious effort to control himself when you're cooking - he doesn't want to stress you out even more.

He also asks you to join him when he works out. He wants to make sure you’re taking time to care for your body. He doesn't care whether you do some yoga or light stretching on a mat nearby, or if you want to listen to music while you walk on the treadmill - he watches you out of the corner of his eye while he trains. When you're both finished (or when you're done and he pretends he is too), he makes sure you both get a proper snack from the kitchen.

BELPHEGOR

Belphegor surprises everyone when he aces a test after rushing through the answers and napping for the rest of class. He doesn’t realize how it makes you feel only a few seats away from him, scribbling as fast as possible even as the professor slides the paper out from under you, and you end up with a barely passing grade to show for it.  

He’s not going to dwell on his feelings about the exchange program. What he is going to do is share his criticisms loudly, and meanly, with his oldest brother and Diavolo whenever he gets the chance. It’s their fault you’re here, stuck trying to learn thousands of years of history and culture about a place you’ve just learned exists. Of course you’re struggling - they’re asking too much of you.

He’ll offer to help you study, if that’s what you want. You don’t have to rely on Satan for that, you know. But what he considers more important, what he wants to focus on, is helping you with your disturbing lack of sleep.

You might not know this, but he knows how late you stay up at night trying to study. He knows how your mind is constantly racing with thoughts of failure and self-loathing and regret. You get up before your alarm after a restless night of tossing and turning. You sleep so badly, he can’t sleep properly either.

He’s going to start visiting you shortly before your usual bedtime, and he’s going to keep you company while he helps you put your books away. (Stop trying to argue, it’s for your own good.) He’s going to push your pajamas into your arms and nudge you towards the en-suite to change and shower and whatever else you need to do to get ready for bed.

When you come out looking cozy and a bit more relaxed and so damn cute, he’s going to ask which bed you’d prefer to sleep in - yours or his? Because he’s going to ward off the negative thoughts while you fall asleep, and he’s going to give you happier dreams. When you wake up tomorrow, you’ll understand what he already knows: none of that other stuff matters, so long as you have each other.

[pinkgy]

Hello, a new writing blog with great writing!

How about some NSFW headcanons for the paradise lost demons (whb)? I'm not sure if you write for them since the request rules don't really specify it, so feel free to just ignore this if you don't.

Have a nice day!

Hi Anon !

Yes, I do write for every character from every of the fandoms listed in my request post.

I’m sorry if my headcanons might lack a bit of accuracy or are not as specific as the ones I wrote for the kings, we don’t know much yet about the Paradise lost demons so I’m writing this based of on my opinion, some investigation and the little content we’ve seen in the game so far about them.

Hope you like it and thank you so much for your request♡

𝗪𝗛𝗕 !

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗘 𝗟𝗢𝗦𝗧

𝗡𝗦𝗙𝗪 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗖𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗡𝗦

GN!Reader + Reader has a pussy + Slight mentions of She/Her pronouns in Buer’s.

𝗖𝗪: Overstimulation, Edging, Dacryphilia, Shibari, Toys (Vibrators), Praising, Degradation, Blowjobs, Handjobs, Lingerie, Somnophilia.

𝗟𝗨𝗖𝗜𝗙𝗘𝗥

⇒ He's a Top without a doubt, there's no debating in this, he would get mad at you if you dared to suggest the idea of him being a sub.

⇒ Lucifer is actually pretty sweet, yes, he does a lot of questionable things while "pleasuring you" but he never does anything that hurt you too much, you have a safe word and many other ways where you can communicate to him any discomfort you might have and he Iso gives the best aftercare.

⇒ He's into shibari, this mostly because this way he can have you all to his mercy so he can toy with you for hours until your face is covered in tears.

⇒ He's the worst when he overstimulates you or when he edges you, by doing that he forgets any kind of limits you have set for him, you can beg him to stop, he won't, the more you cry, the more he does it. If he is eating your pussy while he aggressively thrusts his fingers in and out and you are sobbing and telling him to stop, he is going to do it faster, harder and way for aggresively.

⇒ There's no such a thing as normal sex with him, he's into a lot of shit, one crazier than the other, and he's also pretty good at analyzing you and he can figure out pretty quickly the things you like, and Lucifer will also be into those things.

⇒ "You say that it's too much ? Well, this cunt tells me overwise, and those beautiful tears all over your face don't seem to be out of pain, so don't lie to me and give me one more

𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗕𝗔𝗦

⇒ Marbas confuses me, he technically cant be freed from his restraints without Lucifers permission because his libido and violence are to dangerous for EVERYONE, but for the sake of this headcanon, lets say that he's not that bad when he's free. (ill include some headcanons where he's tied up tho, thats literally his kink)

⇒ Marbas is a Top, the fact that he's into being tied up does not means he subs, he definitely doesn't.

⇒ He would tie you up if you begged enough or as a punishment, but you better appreciate it, it doesn’t happen as often as you’d think.

⇒ He loves when you use toys on him while hes tied up, specially those wired bullet vibrators, he's soooo into being defenseless in front of you.

⇒ When he's tied up he loves being overstimulated, suck his dick nonstop or furiously rub it it up and down or play with his dick head, the sight of your face covered in his cum makes him go crazy.

⇒ But in spite of this headcanons, he tops, a l w a y s, you can have him tied up and ruining him with a bunch of bullet vibrators attached to his dick, he's dominating you somehow.

⇒ "Do i look that weak to you ? speed up that vibrator right fucking now or else im not fucking you"

𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗔𝗫

⇒ I don’t know why, but he gives switch vibes, but is leaning towards subbing.

⇒ Morax likes to be taken care of but not to the point of being a pillow prince.

⇒ Omg praise him please, he’ll become the whiniest boy out there, tell him how beautiful he is when he cums or how cute his moans are.

⇒ He’ll do anything for you, if you want him to completely submit to you, he will, and if you want him to fuck you senseless and completely rail you, he will, Morax is the definition of being into what you’re into.

⇒ As his kink says, he’s into body modifications, if you have one, he’ll go crazy, and if you don’t, that’s fine for him. But if you wanted to get one, even if it’s temporary, just to please him, you’ll drive him crazy, not because of the modification, but because of the intention.

⇒ “Just tell me, whatever you want me to do, just tell me, I’m yours, every part of me is your property, I’m here to please you and only you”

𝗕𝗨𝗘𝗥

⇒ He’s neither a dom nor a sub, but he’s not a switch, he just likes to feel good and likes to make you feel good, but he tends to get a bit dominant sometimes.

⇒ Wear fluffy lingerie, bonus points if it’s animal themed. (I don’t see him being into pet play tho, but who knows)

⇒ Buer is a box full of surprises, you never know his next move, he can be kissing you in the most romantic way possible, and then suddenly he’s spitting in your mouth.

⇒ Buer has something that makes me believe that he’s into somnophilia, but receiving it, he likes to challenge you to make him cum without waking him up, and the feeling of having his pants wet with his cum makes him go crazy.

⇒ He would love a pillow princess, to just please her and only her for hours, that’s a big fantasy of his.

⇒ “We have all the time in the world, so for this night and every night you want, so let me be the one that makes you feel the best you’ve ever felt”

[queer-n-here]

I just read the akutagawa fic someone requested so I wanted to request smth similar if that's cool!

Sigma comes home with an attitude after getting all stressed at work so we cockwarm him

Take ur time btw ik you're prolly stressed w school and stuff 🙏

Gah, brother! Ittookmeashittonofwhiletogetthispieceoutimsosorryireallyreallyreallytriedveryhard-

*clears throat* I... *Sigh* I'm sorry it took me so much time to get this out. But I'm really proud of myself for finally finishing this, ngl. Hope you like it, and thank you for being patient.

Contents: Making Sigma cockwarm reader.

Warnings: Smut, Top male reader, cockwarming. Think that's about it.

Sigma was more than just irritated.

He was tired and annoyed; there was a dull ache in his head and his body was too heavy for his legs.

So when you pressed your signature soft kiss to his temple, and asked him if he remembered the date you'd planned for him, he snapped a little too ferociously.

"[Name], I can't go today, okay?" He said, his brows furrowed. "There's too much on my mind and I don't have time for stuff like that anymore."

A part of you was hurt by that. 'I don't have time,' You'd always thought he enjoyed your dates.

But you pushed it to the back of your brain.

About an hour later, Sigma was more than regretting the way he'd talked back.

You were fully clothed; just your pants were unzipped so your cock could be buried in him as it was, nestled between his walls all warm and snug, but achingly stationary. You were pretending as if everything were perfectly normal, scrolling through your phone and blatantly ignoring Sigma, who was sitting in your lap straddling you, naked.

He was starting to grow desperate; he wanted you to fuck him the way you always did, aiming at his sweet spot with the accuracy of a professional archer. He needed it. But you weren't listening to him at all.

"[Name]," Sigma said, voice slightly unsteady as his hands clutched at the fabric of your shirt. "[Name], please..."

"Hmm?" You raised an eyebrow, not quite looking up from your phone.

"Don't do this, please..." He looked up at you with those teary eyes of his. "I need you."

You glanced at him, the sight of his gaze making you almost give in. You sighed, putting the phone down and looking at him fully. "Need me? I thought you had too much on your mind and not enough time."

Sigma looked slightly hurt, but then he buried his face into the crook of your neck, wrapping his arms around your neck. "I'm sorry."

A sob shook his shoulders, and you felt tears drip onto yours. You sighed again, and put an arm around him.

"I can't take it anymore," He mumbled.

"Fine," You said. How were you supposed to remain firm when your love was crying? "But you're gonna have to do it yourself."

Sigma pulled away to look at you, cheeks red. "What do you...?"

You put your phone away, and turned to look at him again. "I'm not really feeling like doing anything, to be honest. And since you want it so much, you can do it for yourself."

With these words you sat back against the couch, looking up at him as he contemplated your suggestion. Sigma had never ridden you before; it was usually just you doing nasty stuff to him that made his eyes water and brain fog up.

But times were desperate, and you did not look like you were gonna cave in soon, so he nodded.

"Okay," He murmured, eyes downcast.

"Perfect," You said.

And so he started moving, grinding down on your cock slowly as his fingers tightened around your shirt. He bit his lips trying to muffle the moans he knew would start to spill out soon. His whole was fluttering around your cock already, his own dick twitching with want.

It was almost painful for you to not move, to not flip the two of you around and pin Sigma against the couch beneath you and fuck him till he was screaming. Gods, and he didn't even know the effect he had on you.

"Come on," You caressed his waist softly, stomach taught and shoulders tense with your restraint. "You can go faster, can't you?"

Sigma nodded, and sped up slightly. He was still shy, unable to make eye contact with you and with a stiff blush across his face. His eyes were tearing up slightly, and no amount of biting his lips was keeping in the ah-ah-ahs that spilled from his mouth as he bounced on your cock.

You could feel your dick twitching with want and restraint inside him. Your breathing had grown laboured, and you couldn't help but lean forwards and kiss Sigma slightly harshly.

He moaned into it, hole clenching around your cock and eyelids fluttering shut as a tear rolled down his cheek. You bit and nibbled so hard at his lips that he had to pull away to stop you.

"Don't- nghh! Don't b-bite so hard," He panted.

"Hmm," You grabbed his love handles, mediating his pace. "Don't you like it?"

Sigma flushed, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder as you made him bounce wilder on your cock. When you hit his prostrate, he whimpered, clutching your shoulders so hard his short nails dug into your skin.

So you hit it again and again, your hips snapping up to thrust your tip against his sweet spot, making him start to whine from the feeling. His own hips were bouncing to meet your thrusts half-way, and the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin that echoed through the room was making you restless.

You decided, fuck the punishment, you needed Sigma.

Flipping yourselves around so that Sigma was laying on the couch and you were on top of him, you pressed his pretty legs to his chest and fucked him, bullying his sweet spot and abusing his hole as he cried out underneath you.

Your pace was destructive and brutal, sending Sigma scrambling to find purchase as his chest heaved with each breath. You could tell from his blurred-up eyes that his brain was starting to cloud, his hands clutching your shoulders so tight his nails had managed to draw blood from your skin.

Soon, his thighs started trembling violently, his hole clenching around you in the way that it did when he was close. You smirked, teeth-half gritted against your arousal, and sped up.

Sigma cried out, cum shooting from his dick as a sound of pleasure ripped itself free from his throat, his hole so tight around you it was almost impossible to pull out and thrust in.

You weren't far behind, what with him so tight around your dick it was making you see stars. The white hot coil in your intestines snapped, and you painted Sigma's walls white.

Slowing down to a stop, you huffed to catch your breath, eyes landing on him.

He was out of breath and dazed, quite obviously in subspace. You pulled out of him, earning a small whimper from him, and placed a small kiss on his forehead.

It didn't take long to get a bath ready for Sigma, and you soon carried him to it from the couch. As you set him down in the water, he reached out to hold onto you.

"[Name]..." He murmured, perhaps already out of subspace.

"Hm?" You stroked his hair gently.

"Something's bothering you, right?" He looked up at you, voice quiet. "You looked weird earlier."

You sat down on the floor next to him outside the bath. "Earlier when?"

"When I said..." Sigma bit his lip. "When I said that mean stuff."

You smiled softly, even as the memory made you want to wince. "Hmm, yeah. It did hurt a little, honestly."

Sigma lowered his head, pouting slightly. "I'm sorry. I was just upset because of-"

"Because of something that happened at work, right?" You finished for him, nodding. "I know, that's why I didn't say anything."

He bit his lip. "I'm sorry."

You smiled at him again, leaning forwards to kiss his temple. "It's alright. But next time..." You paused. "If you don't want to go out somewhere with me, just say so."

"No!" Sigma sat up straight, looking at you with his wide eyes. "I like going to places with you. I didn't really mean it, I swear."

You looked at him, and this time the smile that tugged at your lips was automatic. "Really?"

"Yeah," He nodded furiously. "I really like spending time with you."

You chuckled softly. "Mn, good to hear."

[etherealising]

interlude two | anyone who had a heart

masterlist | ↢ previous chapter | next chapter ↣ |

pairing: carmy x fem!reader | platonic!richie jerimovich x fem!reader | carmen berzatto x his delusions | carmen berzatto x self-sabotage | fem!reader x weakness for short slutty men with blue eyes | fem!reader x slutty gold chains | fem!reader x BEING FUCKING WEAK FOR SMARMY CARMY |

summary: the devastion of mikey's passing pushes baby into the arms of the man she loves the most.

warning(s): death | grief | funeral | refusal to grieve | denial | kinda delusional behavior | unhealthy coping mechanisms | angst | fluff | longing | mutual pining | idiots in love | love drunk carmy | probably ooc!carmy | wise willie | zero accuracy regarding new york | baby letting men pump and dump her | SMUT | P IN V | UNPROTECTED SEX | SOFT!DOM READER | VANILLA SEX | EMOTIONAL TENDER SEX |

wc: 17.3k

edited to the best of my abilities. if things don't make sense i apologize!

March 1, 2022

The rain rhythmically bounced off the umbrella in Richie’s hand. Both of you huddled under the slightly too-small object, the majority of your bodies dry, but each of you felt your fair share of rain land squarely on you. The child in front of you, dry as a desert, her small stature an advantage.

All that could be heard was nature's tears singing against the various umbrellas and the voice of the priest that seemed to just drone on and on.

Donna’s cry’s had been relegated to silent sobs just moments ago, you watched as Nat put her own hurt and discomfort aside to assuage Donna’s nerves.

You had all but ignored the empty seat situated next to Natalie, not wanting to believe the truth of the situation. As you stared at the coffin resting several feet in front of you, you couldn’t help but wonder what the cold lifeless body lying inside looked like. You knew there was only so much that could be done to make a body with a hole in its head presentable, and that a closed-casket funeral was for the best.

It was selfish, but you wanted one last look at Mikey. Did he look peaceful? Was he finally freed from the vices that had for so long controlled him? You so hoped that wherever he was, wherever his soul found its spiritual comforts he was at peace.

A tug on the sleeve of your coat drew your attention. Looking down your eyes met Eva's, the little girl insisted on standing with you, her small toddler hand securely wrapped in your adult one. It felt a little odd to be standing here like this, a buffer between a family that was no more, while also serving as the memory of one family’s missing piece.

She raised her arms in a signal to be picked up. Funerals were no place for children to be, but what good was lying to them about the realities of life? You gently lifted her into your arms sitting her on your hip comfortably. Eva’s small head rested against yours playing with the pearls around your neck, the small girl could only understand so much of what was going on around her.

You felt Tiff step closer to you, arm wrapping around your waist so she leaned into Eva’s back. The comfort of the small family surrounding you keeps you grounded to the moment in front of you, not allowing your mind to think of the pain Mikey must’ve been in, or the voicemail that had gone unchecked for the past week.

Funerals were a funny thing for you, the last one you attended was your mom’s. And it wasn’t a competition, but her death was easier. That’s the thing with terminal illness; death is inevitable. You would never be prepared for any death in your life, but it was a bit easier knowing your mom didn’t have a fighting chance. Her decision to leave this realm behind was harder, but knowing her passing was painless and of her own volition helped.

But Mikey’s death was different. It was sudden, unexpected, and messy and it wasn’t the death Michael deserved. But what made it all the worse for you is that he was utterly and terribly alone.

And it wasn’t like anyone wasn’t privy to his substance abuse, but none of you knew the depths to which it ate away at him, how it slowly killed him and he kept pushing on for the sake of others.

Maybe you should’ve asked him more about how he was doing when you interviewed him. Maybe you shouldn’t have sent him a portion of your article. Standing at the cemetery as the funeral continued, even with little Eva cuddling into you and Tiff and Richie surrounding you; you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to all the things you could’ve done to save Mikey from himself.

Eva was asleep against your chest as you made your way to the fresh grave, Tiff in front of you and Richie closely behind doing his best to cover your small group with the umbrella. The rain hadn’t let up as you raised your dirt-filled hand over the pristine casket, this didn’t feel right at all. You had yet to cry since Sugar called you days ago with the news, it felt as though you were numb to the truth. Maybe it was your mind's way of protecting you.

But as long as the casket remained closed, and you never got one last peek at the man who had taught you that you deserved more than what you settled for. You could pretend for just a little longer that none of this was real.

Releasing your grip on the dirt you watched as it splashed across the top of the casket mixing with the droplets of rain. You hesitated for a minute turning your back on this casket felt too final, like leaving this cemetery would be closing a door in your life you were desperate to keep open.

Richie’s free hand came up to your shoulder, a soft squeeze pressed into your jacket. You looked back at him the same hurt and pain you were feeling reflected on his face. He gave you a small nod as a way to let you know that it was okay to walk away, that he understood the hurt you were feeling.

As Tiff walked off to her car, you held Eva in one hand and allowed Richie to grip your other. The warm grasp of his hand gave you the strength to turn your back and walk away from a man whose love, charisma, and smile you would never be blessed to see or experience again.

March 12, 2022

Carmy sat on his lawn chair watching the rain splash against the window that led to his balcony, the funeral program rested lazily on his lap held in place by his pack of cigarettes and lighter. He didn’t realize it but this had been his routine since he learned of his brother's passing.

He would come home not even bothering to change out of his work clothes and plop down in the creaky lawn chair, usually on his balcony but recently the weather hadn’t been calm enough for that.

Light up a cigarette and just bask in his despair.

The only difference had been the program he received in the mail a week ago. The newly acquired folded paper joined his after-work routine for the day after being left on the island in his kitchen since receiving it. 

Carmy wasn’t sure if he was angry at Mikey for choosing death, or if he was more hurt by what they would never again be able to experience with each other. He felt like once again Mikey had left him behind, not thinking about the ways his actions would affect those around him, affect the people who loved him.

The decision to skip the funeral wasn’t as hard as most would have thought. What good would Carmy have to offer by being there, it's not like anyone needed him. And anyway, he couldn’t just drop everything happening here in New York for a day, life didn’t work that way for him. 

Carmy knew he didn’t hate Mikey, he just didn’t understand his choices recently. Didn’t necessarily understand how much the prescriptions had fucked with his mind. And maybe in a selfish way, he wasn’t ready to understand, to forgive Mikey for leaving him so soon. Nothing to even show for the loss of the person who inspired him most besides the funeral program as an ugly reminder of what he could never be again.

A soft knock rang through the quiet apartment, the man inside happy to ignore it, sure it was just one of his neighbors doing whatever weird shit they usually did. He removed a cigarette from his pack standing up and setting the program in the chair before grabbing his lighter and moving to open the window.

He heard it again, this time a bit louder and more urgent sounding. Carmy removed his phone from his pocket, the generic lock screen shining up at him with the time reading 2:30 am.

No one had ever shown up at his apartment this late, not even the woman across the way who periodically tried to charm Carmy all kinds of inconvenient times of the night. The knocking finally stopped as muffled voices carried through the hallway outside his door.

Carmy wouldn’t consider himself a nosy neighbor but he did find himself a bit curious who was knocking at his door at such an hour it alerted another tenant. Cigarette sitting between his lips he made his way to the door, ear leaned against it as he tried to catch bits and pieces of the conversation happening out there.

Having no such luck he resorted to checking the peephole to find his neighbor outside her door talking with a woman who appeared to be soaked to the bone. Carmy watched for a moment, he couldn’t place it but something about the unknown woman looked familiar to him. He continued watching his neighbor motioning for the woman to wait outside for a moment while she grabbed something from her apartment.

Carmy was ready to return to his initial smoke break but found himself stopping as the woman faced his door. Heart stopping as he took in features he would remember for a lifetime. He quickly moved to unlock his door, throwing it open only to surprise the ghost of a woman standing in his hallway.

You ceased your knocking as you heard a door opening behind you, turning to face a woman who appeared to be around the same age as you. From her appearance, it didn’t seem like you had woken her up so you were grateful for that fact.

“You’re making a mess in the hallway,” her eyes traveled over your form. Your figure sopping wet from the downpour you just escaped from.

A tired sigh left your lips, “Um, I’m sorry to bother you, but do you know the guy who lives here?” Your hand motioned to the door that was at your back that you had just been knocking on. 

“You a friend or something?” The skepticism in the woman’s voice irked you, it was a yes or no question there was no need for her to give you the third degree.

You nodded trying to keep your cool. You were tired, dripping wet, and you weren’t even sure if Carmy was home. “Yeah, something like that.”

She gave you another once over before shaking her head back and forth, “No I don’t, sorry.” She began to close her door before you called out to her one last time.

“Wait sorry, is there any way I could use your phone, mine is dead,” you presented your phone as evidence, you didn’t want to be in this woman’s presence any more than she wanted to put up with you, but you needed to at least call a cab.

The subtle roll of her eyes caused the grip on your phone to tighten, luckily though the woman gave you a gesture to wait there before returning to her apartment.

You let out a sigh of relief, head dropping as your thoughts raced. You had no idea what the hell was going through your mind when you booked the last-minute flight. Having found Carmen’s address written on a forgotten piece of paper lying in the kitchen of the Berzatto family home.

The excuse to Sugar was that you had to meet with a potential interviewee for an upcoming article and couldn’t reschedule. You had already been in Chicago for longer than you originally planned, so what was one impromptu plane ride to the east coast?

There was no sign that the woman you bothered was coming back anytime soon so you decided to cut your losses, you would find a pay phone or something to use. You turned around sending one last look at Carmy’s door, the feeling that this was all for nothing setting in.

You went to pick up your bag from the ground when the sounds of a door unlocking caught your attention, raising back up to your full height as you watched the door you were initially knocking on harshly swing open.

Separated by a threshold Carmen Berzatto stood in front of you clad in his disheveled chef whites looking just as exhausted as you felt. You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry if this trip did end up paying off, but after five years without him, five years of hurting and hoping you could no longer hold back all the emotions the man evoked within you.

Your trembling lips raised into a pathetic smile as your eyes took all of him in, “Hi Carmy.”

The water dripped off of you as you awkwardly stood in the entryway to Carmy’s apartment. You watched him rush around to tidy up his apartment, he hadn’t said a word to you yet just opened his door wider with the expectation that you would enter.

“Carm,” your trembling voice doing nothing to stop the scrambling of the man in front of you.

“Carmen.” The name left your lips a little louder this time, finally gaining the man’s attention, his entire being turning in your direction but eyes never meeting yours. “Uh, could I maybe take a shower?”

Carmy’s head nodded rapidly, staying glued to his spot for a moment before he signaled for you to follow him. As you walked through the apartment to his bedroom you couldn’t help but take in just how Carmy-like the living space was.

Lacking personal touch and like he was ready to flee at a moment's notice; the only commitment the man could make was being a chef apparently.

You stopped in front of the bathroom looking around his room before finally focusing on him. “I, do you think I could borrow some clothes?”

Again Carmy nodded the man acting as though his voice box wasn’t working. You watched him move around his room wondering if he’d ever award you any form of attention or verbal acknowledgment. He stopped for a minute eyes finally finding yours, “Go ahead and get cleaned up, I’ll leave these on the bed.”

Your eyes found the contents in his hand before it was your turn to nod and head into the bathroom. You started the shower searching for a towel and washcloth as you waited for the water to heat up. This whole trip could very well be a mistake, but there was no going back now, you were here, and you had already used your miles. 

Slipping out of your wet clothes felt like a struggle, the heavy fabric clinging to you like a second skin. You quickly stepped into the shower, not wanting any of the water to go to waste. The steaming water helped to relax you, all your worries about your visit being set aside as you basked in the warmth radiating around you.

After standing under the shower head and allowing the water to caress your skin, you reached for the products Carmy had lined up in his shower. The shower gel is the same brand you used all those years ago on Christmas. Looking at the bottle in your hands you couldn’t help but think of all the ways in which Carmy wronged you, why you had allowed him to constantly hurt you, a fact you still couldn’t figure out.

And you couldn’t stand here in his shower glaring at a bottle the whole time you were here either. You took your time lathering your body allowing the calming aroma of lavender to invade your senses. Finishing you returned everything to its proper spot before rinsing your body and shutting the shower off.

Stepping out you wrapped the large fluffy towel around your body not chancing a glance at your reflection as you exited the bathroom. The door to the bedroom was closed and the clothes you saw in Carmy’s hands earlier sat in a neat pile on the bed. You perused the selection of a clean pair of boxer shorts, one of his many crew necks and a pair of socks were laid out for you.

The deja vu the last few sequences of events had given you hadn’t gone unnoticed. 

You would have to forgo a bra but you’d been in much more uncomfortable positions with Carmy than this. Dressing you made your way to the door, stopping for a moment to allow yourself a deep breath, you couldn’t be sure what you would be walking into. Along with the fact that you were in a city you had never been in and your return flight wasn’t for two more days, Carmy was your only option. 

The warmth in the apartment slapped you in the face as you left Carmy’s room, the heater had been turned on. You followed the trail you had first taken finding your way to the living room that doubled as a kitchen.

“Sit,” you were almost ready to argue with Carmy’s demanding tone, but the food situated on the island counter stopped you.

You made your way to the lone stool taking a seat, trying not to marvel at the food in front of you. Carmy’s water bill would be high for the month, you had apparently been in the shower long enough for a dinner of grilled cheese and tomato soup to be made. Carmy still hard at work making something on the stovetop sans his chef jacket.

Eyeing the food in front of you, you couldn’t help the way your mouth watered. You greedily picked up a slice of the grilled cheese and dipped it into the hearty soup, The sigh of appreciation not going unnoticed by the chef a few feet away from you, a small smirk gracing his lips at the quiet sound you let out.

“Good?” The question caught you off guard, mouth still full, swallowing the bite in your mouth you set the rest of the sandwich down, eyes zeroing in on Carmy’s biceps that were put on full display by his form-fitting white shirt. 

“I’ve had better.” Carmy caught your shrug as he placed a steaming mug next to the rest of your food, doing his best not to outright smile at your stubborn attitude. He moved to lean his back against the sink, arms crossed over his chest as he studied you.

“Fuck Carmy,” the sigh left your lips reluctantly. “It’s actually fucking great.” So enthralled with the food set in front of you, you missed the pink blush that dusted across Carmy’s cheeks. The heat in the apartment almost felt like too much as the lewd words left your lips.

“Ahem, I uh, I’m gonna get cleaned up. Make yourself comfortable,” Carmy watched as you waved him off, the food you were eating stealing all of your attention.

Carmy watched you for a moment longer, still shocked that your physical presence was here in his apartment. He wasn’t sure what prompted this visit, or if he even deserved your attention after all the immature shit he had pulled. But he was thankful to see you doing well, to see you looking as though you belonged with him in his bland apartment the clothes comfortably sitting on your body providing him with a feeling of domesticity he was one day hoping to have with you.

The mug of hot chocolate in your hands helped to send warmth through your body. You were still sitting at the stool not sure what to do as Carmy freshened himself up. Now that you weren’t shivering cold and rushing through the apartment you could finally take in the less than cozy abode. 

It wasn’t much but you were sure it was enough for Carmy, taking a few sips of your drink you began ambling around the apartment, mug still gripped in your hands, a tether to reality. The living room wasn’t messy but more so what you would describe as Carmy’s version of organized clutter.

A small couch and television helped to offer a homey feeling. The out-of-place lawn chair caught your eye, and the corner of your lips quirked up at how fucking Carmy it was. You made your way to the window it was sitting in front of, the New York skyline at this time of the day still a sight to see. The rain gliding down the window felt like it matched the steady pace of your heartbeat.

Turning to the lawn chair the contents in the seat grabbed your attention. Leaning over you picked up the unassuming paper, a jolt of sadness rushing through you as you read over the program. The funeral a week ago is still stuck in the back of your mind, the closed sleek black casket haunting your eyelids every night.

You quickly replaced the program in its original spot. You had come here intending to confront Carmy about his absence, but the more you stood in his apartment, the more you realized you weren’t actually ready to hear Carmy’s truth.

48 hours was all you had here, if you decided to use it as an escape, so be it. You would have to return to the reality that Mikey was dead sooner than later. You were allowed to let yourself use the time spent here as an escape from reality. You could use your time here to reprimand Carmy for his life decisions, or you could use the borrowed time to relish in finally seeing him after five years and try to figure out the back and forth the two of you have been participating in for a majority of your lives.

Mikey would understand, he wanted you to be happy, so it was okay to pretend for a little while that he’d be waiting there in Chicago when you got back right?

You made your way back to the kitchenette needing a distraction from the very thoughts you were running away from. You finished off your hot cocoa before grabbing your remaining dishes and heading to the sink. Washing dishes was the first distraction you could think of. 

As you made your way to the sink the sound of a door opening and feet padding across the floor could be heard. Quickly turning on the faucet you reached for the dish rag sitting in the sink, a sharp gasp escaping your lips at the pain that shot through the base of your palm, the running water easily turning a translucent pink color.

Snatching your hand back you spotted the blade of a knife that was covered in drops of your blood and haphazardly hidden under the dish rag. Your good hand reached to move the dish rag and grab the offending object. 

Finally getting a good grip on the knife, you were shocked at the familiarity of it, the personal initials carved into the handle proving your theory. The last time you laid eyes on these they were neatly tucked away into a luxurious gift box that Carmy discarded just as easily as he discarded you the morning after Christmas. 

And you thought they had been left in the same spot all these years, collecting dust in his childhood bedroom. But as you held a knife from the set in your hand, and your eyes moved to the remaining set delicately placed on the counter not too far away, you realized that to be nowhere near the truth. 

“Yo, what the fuck Baby,” your attention turned to Carmy’s voice behind you his figure clad in a pair of sweats and a white tank top. That stupid fucking gold chain that you had dreamed of taking between your teeth one too many times glistened against the firmness of his chest.

The delicate grip on your injured hand tore your eyes from the sinful chain. Carmy’s eyes raised your hand to his face examining the seriousness of the wound, “What happened?” 

“Cut myself,” you raised the knife in your hand to show him, watching as his eye darted between you and the tool he took so much pride in owning.

“What the fuck did you do that for?” Carmen Berzatto’s attitude would never cease to surprise you.

You scoffed quickly snatching your hand from his grip, and walking to grab the dish towel hanging from his oven, “I didn’t do it on purpose you fucking idiot.” 

Carmy began rummaging around in his cabinets his search not continuing for too long before he made his way over to you, first aid kit in his grasp. You were honestly surprised he owned one sure he’d rather bask in his pain than take care of himself.

Your good hand shot out aiming to grab the first aid kit from his hands. The slight slap to your hand caused your mouth to drop open, who the hell did he think he was?

“Give me the kit Carmen.” You watched as his eyes met yours, the once blank expression on his face morphing into a frown. 

“Don’t say my name like that,” you rolled your eyes before reaching out once again, only to receive the same result. “Just let me help you. Why are you being so fucking stubborn!”

You raised your eyebrows not expecting Carmy to yell at you. Your hand reluctantly came up between the two of you so he could bandage it up. It was official that you were weak for this man, the demanding tone in his voice shooting straight through you. 

The two of you sat in silence as Carmy cleaned the cut, the consensus was that you didn’t need stitches so the ointment and bandages Carmy had would do. You watched as he worked, hands delicately mending your wound he was so focused on.

When he finished you lowered your hand watching as he cleaned up before you made your exit to the living room, sitting on one side of the couch. Your back was to the kitchen as Carmy finished tidying up, the only sign he followed you out was him walking around the couch in your peripheral.

He joined you on the couch choosing the safe option and sitting directly across from you, the space speaks volumes. You brought your legs up to your chest, if this was a month ago you probably would have let all your hurt and anger guide you in this moment. 

But as life taught you, the universe was eager to snatch away people you thought you had forever with. 

It was silent for a little longer, the both of you avoiding eye contact. You finally turned to face him wanting to understand the choices he made regarding the situation between you two.

“Carmy?” You rested your chin atop your knees as he finally provided you with his full attention, “Did I do something wrong?”

His eyebrows raised, whether, from shock or surprise, you couldn’t be sure. You watched as his eyes darted across the room like he was looking for an anchor. You weren’t too sure who adult Carmy was, because the boy you used to know easily held conversations with you, even the tough ones. 

“I just…I want to understand you, Carmy. And I want to know why I’m not good enough for you,” as soon as those words left your lips it was like you were looking at 18-year-old Carmy again. “I thou-we seemed to be in a good place after Christmas dinner, but then I woke up alone and…and it felt like we were back at square one like you ghosted me all over again.”

You were staring directly into Carmy’s eyes, it was hard but it needed to be done. You needed him to see, to understand how much his actions continued hurting you. 

His hand raised in a gesture you had seen too many times to count, fingers running through his hair. If he didn’t want to have this conversation you couldn’t force him to, but you also wouldn’t keep allowing him to run in and out of your life when it was convenient for him. The two of you were friends once, and you weren’t going to allow him to continue exploiting the love you had for him.

Your arms wrapped around your propped-up legs, a security blanket for the words you were about to force out. “You can be honest with me, Carmy. If you told me you wanted nothing to do with me I’d be on the next flight out of here.” You waited for anything, a sigh, words, but all you got was his steel blue eyes staring you down in the space across from you. 

A sardonic chuckle escaped your lips as you quickly wiped the tears racing down your cheeks. Head falling back to stare at the ceiling as a way to not allow Carmy to see your tears, before calming yourself down enough to meet his gaze head-on.

“I can’t be the only one that wants more for us Carmy.” You could see the light reflecting off the glazed film in his eyes. “And I don’t think I am. But you’re inconsistent with your feelings, and I know it’s wrong of me to spring this on you considering the circumstances…but I just need honesty Carmy, that’s all.”

You said your peace, but you weren’t sure what else you could say to try to make him understand and maybe that was the problem, maybe he didn’t want to understand. You leaned into the couch cushion for comfort. The distance stretching between you was nowhere near as hurtful as the silence.

The fatigue from your flight was beginning to set in, you rushed everything to make it here that you hadn’t realized how much of a toll it took on you. 

Carmy watched you from his side of the couch, arms crossed against his chest. There was so much he wanted to say to you but didn’t know how. He knew you deserved the truth, but it had never before been asked of him in this context. He was scared of the fact that he wanted more with you; it  frightened him.

The idea he had of the two of you in his head was intoxicating and unnerving all at once. He could admit to himself that he dreamed of a life with you, and found himself lost in thought too many times to count about what it would be like to come home after a long shift to you there waiting for him.

Carmen was intoxicated by the idea of spending the rest of his life with you, a continuous beacon in your life that surpassed the title of friend and edged into something more. But he was unnerved as well because he wasn’t sure if this was love or infatuation.

Loving you unnerved Carmy, firstly because he wasn’t sure how he would know he was in love with you or not. And secondly, he didn’t know how to love you and wasn’t sure if he was capable of it. If there was one thing Carmy knew it was that you were deserving of a life-altering love, a love that transcended lifetimes if possible.

But he was almost positive he couldn’t be that person for you, he wasn’t deserving of you.

“I uh, I tried calling you,” Carmy stopped to collect himself, he wanted to talk to you, to let you understand him like you once did. “You changed your number. And that’s not an excuse. I understood why. I just…I guess I took it as a sign that there was nothing left for us.”

His eyes met yours searching for any sort of reaction, any form of acknowledgment. Your puffy eyes and tear-stained face stared back at him, his heart clenching in his chest at the emotional distress he constantly put you through.

“I um,” a placating smile raised to Carmy’s lips as he fumbled with his fingers as a distraction. “I can’t-Baby I-we both know I can’t give you what you deserve.” Carmy did his best to play off the watery undertone in his voice, eyes quickly darting up to yours as he heard your sniffles.

Carmy watched as your head rapidly nodded up and down, a sad knowing smile stretching across your lips. The tightness in his chest increased tenfold, his hand coming up to press into the middle of his chest, hoping to alleviate the pain. 

“I um, I think I would like to go to sleep if that’s okay?” You raised your head to look at Carmy, you told him you would accept his rejection, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t going to hurt. 

Carmy nodded getting up and walking towards you, holding his hand out to help you up. You allowed him to grasp your soft hand in his firm calloused one, head down as he led you to his bedroom. He motioned for you to sit down on his bed as he escaped into the bathroom, coming back a moment later with tissues in his hand.

You avoided his eyes as he bent down on his knees in front of you, gently using the collected tissue to dab at your puffy face. You couldn’t help the sorrowful laugh that escaped your lips, the scene reminded you of when the two of you were growing up and Carmy would always help clean your face after a good cry.

A tight smile formed on his lips as his eyes met yours, the two of you probably thinking of the same memories. He finished drying your face before returning to the bathroom to throw away the tissues. Carmy helped you up from the bed to pull down his comforter before allowing you to get in.

He watched as you scooted over to make room for him awaiting his entrance, “Uh lemme just tidy up out there.” Both of you knew it was an excuse but neither were brave enough to admit it. 

Carmy quickly left the room heading straight for the small duffle you had brought with you. He was sure the rain had soaked through your bag and wet your belongings. Making his way to the closet where his washer and dryer were located he easily fit your clothes into the wash, not wanting you to be stuck in his clothes for however long you were there.

He found your laptop bag in there as well, quickly removing it from its confines and drying it with a clean kitchen towel. Placing the laptop on his counter he made his way around the kitchenette to clean up the mess your blood made and finish off the dishes you hadn’t been able to wash. All of this was a distraction to the warm body he knew was waiting up for him in bed, he felt the urge to prolong the inevitable but realized he might never get this chance again.

Carmy quickly finished his clean of the front room, it wasn’t up to his usual standards but he could no longer deny himself the thing he wanted most in that moment; to wrap you up in his arms and hope he’d never have to let go.

Making sure all appliances were off and starting the washer, he quickly made his way back into his bedroom, closing the door as quietly as he could. He stood in the middle of the room for a minute, the figure peacefully lying in his bed not something he was used to. Carmy quietly crept over to the empty side of the bed lifting the covers and allowing himself to slide in.

Carmy knew you weren’t asleep and any other time he might’ve felt embarrassed to be so eager to be near you, but something about being in your presence felt right. Carmy made sure to scoot close to you, arm moving to wrap around your midsection and bring you closer to him, the need to feel your body pressed against his barely being satisfied.

His face found its way to the crook of your neck, taking a deep breath, the lavender scent he loved so much dancing across his senses. The sigh you let out into the night was a sign that you both wanted this just as much.

Carmy moved his head up a few inches, lips brushing against the ‘B’ hidden behind your ear. There wasn’t a day he didn’t think about the hidden ink stain or the words you said to him when he first found it.

Pressing one more soft kiss against the inkblot Carmy felt as you relaxed into him. Your warm body in his arms once more provided a feeling of bliss he wasn’t aware he needed.

You both knew the position you were in and the soft caress of Carmy’s lips against your skin, was a direct contradiction of the claims he made earlier. But neither of you would be the voice of reason in these 48 hours you had together.

Whatever happened between the two of you during this time would be welcomed with open arms. You and Carmy were on borrowed time, there would be time for regrets later, but as Carmy held you in his arms he decided that he would try to give you pieces of himself that no one had ever seen; even if it would all end in hours. 

“Sweet dreams Baby.” 

Carmy looked most at peace while sleeping, the stress and exhaustion seemed to have melted off of him as his mind transported him to the land of dreams.

You had been awake for some time now, Carmy’s presence helpful enough to allow you a few peaceful hours of sleep. But the inevitable thoughts of a life lost would always haunt you through the night. So here you were watching the slight rise and fall of Carmy’s chest, his lips parted slightly. He looked adorable like this but you felt a little weird just watching someone sleep. 

Your hand raised gently moving the waves out of Carmy’s face, leaning in slightly to press a delicate kiss on his forehead before quietly making your way out of the bed. It was a little tricky to open the door without waking Carmy but you had managed.

Leaving the hallway that led to Carmy’s room you entered the living room, searching for the duffle you brought with you. Only to find it open on the floor, your toiletry bag the only item that remained in the bottom of the bag. Confusion swept across your face as you tried to figure out where the rest of your belongings were.

Looking around the living area you spotted your laptop resting on the counter, your laptop bag sitting on a towel next to it. You would figure things out later. The first thing you wanted to do right now was to brush your teeth.

You quickly tip-toed back into Carmy’s room and the bathroom quietly shutting the door behind you and beginning your morning routine. Now refreshed you exited the bathroom, a small smile gracing your lips as you took in Carmy’s still-sleeping figure. 

Perusing the fridge and pantry you found a lack of any edible food. The few things available allowed you to whip up some French toast. You were no chef and maybe you should’ve left the cooking to Carmy but you were hoping this could be an olive branch for the two of you. If Carmy didn’t want to be with you romantically, maybe the two of you could work on mending your friendship.

Carmy woke up to an empty bed, his first thoughts that you had escaped in the night, his heart clenching a bit at the thought. He couldn’t be mad he pulled the same stunt on you, turning to lay on his back he stared at his ceiling, mind racing as he thought about the conversation from yesterday. 

Carmy knew he wanted to be happy, and he also knew he wanted that with you. He just didn’t know the first thing about romantic love or how to explicitly make his wants clear to you. It seemed as though he’d never get that chance, you were serious about catching the next flight out. 

Sitting up in bed he looked around, trying to gain his bearings. The sound of his bedroom door opening jolted him from his thoughts. He watched as you walked in with two plates in your hands, the smell of French toast invading his senses. His eyes found yours as you stopped in the doorway a small shy smile sent in his direction.

“I made us breakfast,” Carmy watched you make your way towards him, taking a plate off your hands as you sat on the bed in front of him. “I hope you don’t mind French toast, you uh didn’t have much to work with.” 

Carmy’s eyes subtly lit up at the fact that you were still there, that you hadn’t left. “No, yeah this is great, you uh, used cinnamon and everything.” The shy teasing smile on Carmy’s face caused a small chuckle to bubble out of you.

The two of you ate in silence for the most part, each of you stealing glances at one another while the other wasn’t paying attention. Shy smiles sent each other’s way when one of you would catch the other’s eye. 

You watched as Carmy took the plate from your hands and made his way to the door, you sat there for a moment watching him walk away before getting up and following behind him. You silently took a seat on the stool at the counter watching as Carmy began cleaning the remaining breakfast dishes.

The stretch of his back muscles under the tank top he was wearing was a sight to see. It surprised you a bit how toned Carmy was considering he lived and breathed being a chef, you didn’t expect him to have free time to worry about his physique. 

You waited as Carmy finished sending him a small smile as he finally faced you. He made his way to you, the two of you separated by the counter, his forearms resting on the counter accentuated his toned biceps.

“I actually need to go to the farmer’s market today,” you waited to see if there was anything more he had to say but the silence drew on.

“Oh, I can stay here, I have work to finish.” You gestured your hand to the laptop not far from the two of you, trying not to let your disappointment show.

“Did you maybe wanna join me,” Carmy waited for your response, eyes darting around your face hoping you would say yes.

“Do you…want me to join you?” You could laugh, the two of you sitting here beating around the bush like two teenagers. 

You waited as you took in Carmy’s shy demeanor, the blush rising from his neck, you were tempted to point it out but didn’t want him to close himself off like you were used to. 

“I want you to come with me to the farmers market.” Carmy made sure to look you in the eyes as the words left his mouth, sure that he was red in the face but wanting you to know how much he wanted to spend time with you. 

The two of you stared at each other for a while, the toothy grin on your face mirroring the his smaller one. The small nod of your head was everything Carmy needed to see for his heartbeat to calm down. He watched as you giddily got up from your seat presumably to get ready.

“Oh um did you do something with my clothes?” The smile didn’t seem to be leaving your face anytime soon.

Carmy cleared his throat hand raising to scratch the back of his neck, “Yeah I, uh I washed them, they’re in my closet.” 

You couldn’t deny that those words made your heart pick up speed a bit, the idea of feeling giddy that your clothes were in Carmy’s closet was a bit childish, but you would take what you could get at this point. 

“Oh, okay I’ll just go get ready then.” Your hand gestured to the room behind you.

“Yeah,” Carmy couldn’t help but marvel at the idea of you getting ready in his apartment, it was almost like he could pretend this was his reality.

“Yeah,” you didn’t know why you were acting like a love-struck teenager but Carmy just brought it out of you.

“Okay,” Carmy nodded his head signaling you to take your leave.

“Oka-.”

“Baby just go get fucking ready.” A huff of laughter escaped Carmy at the way you were acting.

Carmy stood by the counter watching as you ran off to prepare yourself for the day. He couldn’t stop the smile from gracing his lips as he listened to your melodic laughter sing through the emptiness of his apartment.

You had split from Carmy a few booths back, the two of you deciding it was for the best. Your constant wandering off to booths that intrigued you put Carmy in a panic when he would look to see you no longer at his side. 

It was your first time in New York and you were just happy to take in this small portion of what the city had to offer. The farmer’s market here was similar to the ones you’d been to back home, though the weather would take some getting used to, not like you needed to. You’d be back in Chicago before you knew it. 

You found a small flea market-type area towards the back of the farmers market. Vendors gathered around selling handmade items and keepsakes. A few minutes into your perusal of the area you found a vendor selling handmade clothing items. A pretty cami dress caught your eye that the vendor exclaimed you just had to have, and who were you to turn down a beautiful dress selling for a decent price in the streets of New York.

With the dress nicely tucked away into a paper bag gently swinging from your arm, you decided it was time to make your way back to the entrance of the farmers market and wait for Carmy. On your journey back you stopped at a vendor selling handmade leather goods, a particular leather wallet drawing your attention.

The familiarity of it caused you to let loose a shuddering breath, the small item reminded you of Mikey’s wallet. Although his was more used, worn in. Standing on this street and looking down at the pristine wallet in front of you was almost like looking at a replica.

You remembered asking him once why he chose to use the ratty old thing and the smart-ass response he had given you. The fact that an inanimate object that had no ties to Mikey was causing this sort of reaction inside you, felt too real, it felt like grief was prepared to sink its claws into you. 

And you couldn’t allow it, because you were in New York finally on somewhat good terms with Carmy. And Mikey would be waiting for your return to Chicago, eager to hear about your time with his little brother. 

“Would you like to buy it, miss?” Your eyes found the vendors, a forced smile tracing your lips.

You slowly shook your head feeling a little bad for turning down goods from a small business, you just didn’t need the wallet, especially not one that would remind you of him every day.

The walk back to the farmers market felt melancholy: the promise to yourself to compartmentalize Mikey and his situation was becoming harder the more time you spent alone. Your search for Carmy became more urgent the longer you couldn’t find him. The racing images of Mikey’s casket swirling with your recent moments spent in Carmy’s presence. 

You didn’t want to burden Carmy with the debilitating thoughts you were having, not wanting to ruin the good thing the two of you had going. Neither of you brought up the elephant in the room and it seemed like neither of you was going to. The both of you content to live in momentary bliss for the time you had together. 

It felt like you were spiraling and all because of some stupid too similar fucking wallet. You finally made your way to the entrance of the market hoping Carmy would know to look for you there.

Carmy gathered the ingredients necessary for the dinner he planned for tonight, luckily for him the restaurant was closed on Sundays so he could spend the day with you. 

He still wasn’t sure that any of this was real. You showing up outside his apartment at two in the morning, holding you as you slept, and now adventuring out to the market he frequented, it all felt like a dream.

There was one last stop Carmy needed to make before he met up with you. He made his way to the old flower vendor who was always the first one here to ensure he set up a show at the entrance. Carmy had his fair share of conversations with the man but had never actually bought any flowers off of him, but today was the day that changed. 

“Carmen is that you?” Carmy raised his head from the flowers he was glancing at, the old man sitting on the stool smiling his way.

“Yes sir. How you doing today Willie?” Carmy wasn’t much into friends or acquaintances since the two of you parted ways all those years ago, but Willie was a special case. Always kind, on Carmy’s first visit to this particular market the older man had explained to him the layout and gave him insider information about what times were best to come to ensure he got the freshest ingredients from each vendor. 

“You thinking about buying something today son?” The older man rose from his seated position plopping the paper he was reading in his place.

Carmy nodded eyes going back to the various flowers to choose from. This wasn’t Carmy, he had never done something like this, not willingly at least. But he knew flowers could symbolize different things, and have different meanings. And if he couldn’t figure out how to be straightforward and speak with you, maybe a hand-picked bouquet could solve that issue. 

“Looking for anything in particular?” He glanced at Willie, a slight frown marring his face, he genuinely had no idea.

Carmy chuckled, hand raising to scratch the nape of his neck, “I’m not sure Willie.” He felt a little embarrassed. How was he to translate his feelings to you through horticulture if he knew nothing about flowers and their meanings.

“Well help me out boy, tell me who they’re for an maybe I can whip something up for you.” It was like perfect timing as Carmy heard your voice trickling into his ears. You were standing on the other side of the entrance phone to your ear as you spoke to somebody, a look of exhaustion on your features.

Carmy’s eyes caught yours as you glanced in his direction, he watched that beautiful smile appear as you quickly ended the call with whoever you were talking to, smile mirroring yours as you two stared at each other across the distance. Your hand raised in a shy wave smile growing wider as Carmy reciprocated the gesture. 

“Now Carmen, why didn’t you tell me these were for your old lady,” Carmy’s head shot around to find Willie smirking at him from his side of the booth. “Is that the young lady in that picture you keep in your wallet?” 

Carmy watched frozen, as Willie moved around his booth, trying his best to figure out when the older man had ever caught a glance at the picture of you two. “Uh, she’s just a friend sir.” 

“Listen, boy, you can lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to me. And I know you betta not be lying to that pretty girl over there.” The flowers in Willie’s hand were used to point in your direction. 

“I saw the way she looked at you just now son, that girl is in love,” Carmy listened as Willie began constructing the bouquet, ears tuned to what the man was saying. 

“I’ll give it to you straight boy, you’re gonna regret every chance you didn’t take with that young lady. Now I don’t know the situation between you two, but what I do know is that you look at that girl like she invented oxygen, I know because that’s how I looked at my Debbie.” Carmy was raptly intrigued with Willie’s words, watching the sad smile take over his lips as he mentioned his recently deceased wife.

“And from our interactions you don’t seem to me like the type to let rare opportunities pass you by,” the bouquet seemed to be pretty much finished, the older man just putting the final touches. “Now you give that pretty young lady this here bouquet, you make her a nice dinner like I’m sure you planned. And you let her know how much you appreciate her.” 

Carmy nodded his head rapidly trying to take in everything the older man said. His breath hitched in his throat as he watched Willie wave you over to them.

“Excuse me miss? Why don’t you come on over here and join us.” Carmy could feel the panic rising within him.

“N- Willie No don-.”

“Hush up boy and introduce me to your lovely girl.” You stopped next to Carmy eyes widening as you took in the unknown man's words. 

You looked at Carmy as he brought his hand up to swipe across his mouth, a tight-lipped smile lining his lips afterwards.

“Hi sweetie I’m Willie Carmen’s only friend in this city,” you laughed as the man winked at you before holding his hand out listening as you introduced yourself. 

“It’s nice to meet you Willie, you have some beautiful flowers, do you harvest them yourself?” The man in front of you waved off the compliment with a serene smile on his face.

“My wife and I started selling at this market 20 years ago. This is my first year without her.” The smile on your lips faltered as you offered your condolences.

“Now I don’t wanna keep you too long, but this bouquet here is for you to miss.” You looked at Carmy before your eyes found Willie’s again, your cheeks warming at what the man was insinuating. 

“Oh um, thank you so much. How much do I owe you?” Your wallet was out and ready in your hand, Carmy’s hand shooting out to stop you as he thrust money forward. 

“Y’all put that money away now,” Willie shook his head scoffing at the idea of either of you paying.

He held out the bouquet in your direction, the smile lining his face urged you to take it. You couldn’t help but marvel at the beautiful bouquet, the colorful assortment helping to ease the foreboding feeling you had earlier. 

“Our friend Carmen here chose each of those flowers,” you looked in Carmy’s direction, the blush on his face so endearing to you. “I went on ahead and tucked a card in there with their meanings. You two make a fine pair, don’t let life get in the way of the love you share, you hear me?”

You nodded avoiding Carmy’s eyes like your life depended on it, easily listening to the wisdom Willie was bestowing upon the two of you. 

“The world is kind but she is also cruel. She will take away the things we love even if we’re not ready to part with them. Love each other loudly and with no regrets, it's always good to see young love prosper.”  The sad look in Willie’s eyes pulled at your heartstrings, you stood there wondering if he had any regrets. 

The clearing of Carmy’s throat finally drew your attention from the wise older man in front of you. “Thank you Willie really, but we should be heading home.” 

Willie nodded a pleasant smile on his lips, “Damn right! The two of you holdin up my business.” The older man shooed the two of you off a chuckle followed his gesture. 

“It was nice meeting you Willie, thank you again for the beautiful bouquet.” You sent him one last wave before you and Carmy moved away from the booth.

“It’s a gorgeous bouquet Carmy,” you glanced over the flowers before your eyes locked with Carmy’s, a loving smile splitting your face. 

Carmy smiled, unconsciously reaching out to move a stray piece of hair from your eyes, hurriedly dropping his hand and clearing his throat. “Let’s get them home and into some water yeah?” Carmy’s eyes darted around doing his best not to stare at you for too long.

You looked down trying to hide your smile, the word ‘home’ filled you with warmth. Your hand reached out to intertwine his with your own, avoiding Carmy’s eyes as they finally focused on you, “Lead the way.”

The gentle squeeze of your hand in Carmy’s made you smile, the two of you making your way back to his apartment. Neither of you mentioned holding hands as you journeyed home, just like neither of you said anything as you melted into his safe embrace on the subway ride.

The two of you entered the small apartment, your laughs filtering through the hallway and into the entranceway. A run-in with Carmy’s neighbor across the hall was responsible for the now-dying laughter between the two of you.

“Is she always like that?” You stopped allowing Carmy to help you out of your jacket before he hung it up. You turned to him, taking the bags out of his hand as you made your way to the kitchen. Setting them on the counter before searching for something to hold your flowers. 

Carmy followed behind you after removing his own coat, hands falling to your waist as he moved around you to unload the few groceries he had gotten for tonight. “She uh, airdropped me a nude once, so right now was pretty tame I guess.” 

Your headshot to Carmy’s everything in you holding back the laugh that was desperately trying to escape. “Poor girl. Did you send one back?” You nudged your elbow into his watching as the blush on his cheeks deepened.

He maneuvered around you trying to ignore your teasing, “God no, we uh went out for drinks once, it was cool.” 

The crumbs he was giving you surprised you, “And nothing like came out of that?”

“I dunno was something supposed to?” Carmy made sure not to give you direct attention, mortified that he was even having this conversation with you in his kitchen.

“Well did you want it to?” You didn’t know why you had latched onto this topic of conversation so hard, it reminded you of the times Carmy would ramble to you about Claire. And if you were just spending the weekend with a friend wasn’t this the type of conversation you should be engaging in? 

Carmy turned to you as you finally found a glass big enough to support the bouquet, he watched as you filled the glass with water before trimming the stems. “Not with her, no.”

You looked up to see Carmy finally looking at you with a serious expression painting his flushed face. You couldn’t help it as your eyes dropped to his lips, clocking the subtle peak of his tongue poking out as he wet his lips. 

Carmy made his way towards you, Willie's words from earlier bouncing around in his head. He pulled the flower from your hand and placed it in the large glass he wasn’t even aware he had. He cleared his throat hoping he had enough confidence to get these words out.

“I’m gonna start on dinner, and you’re gonna go get ready,” his hand came up to hold the left side of your jaw, finger finding the spot behind your ear he always took special care to remember. “I want you to put on that pretty little dress you were gushing about on the way home.” Carmy stopped watching as you nodded your head showing that you were paying attention.

“Can you do that for me?” His eyes traced your face looking for any signs that you were uncomfortable.

Your lidded eyes lazily blinked up at him a quiet ‘yes’ escaped through your parted lips. A small smile rested on Carmy’s lips as he leaned in to plant a delicate kiss on your forehead, lips lingering for a moment too long.

He reluctantly removed himself from you waiting for you to scurry off. Surprised when you took a step closer to him and leaned in, a gentle press of your lips connecting to the corner of his. Carmy watched as you pulled away and smiled at him before taking your leave.

Carmy stood in his kitchen for a minute, heart racing as he realized what he had just done. The only place Carmy had ever been in control was in the kitchen, so maybe that’s why it was so easy for him to take control in that moment, well that and Willie’s lecture.

He was sure it would never happen again as he began preparing the ingredients for the lasagna he planned to make for the two of you. 

You and Carmy had switched places a few minutes ago after he walked in on you wrapped in a towel and profusely apologized  for almost a whole minute. You easily slipped into your dress while Carmy was in the shower. 

As you walked into the living room you could smell the delicious aroma of the cuisine Carmy prepared for the two of you. You were glad to be out of Carmy’s presence for the time being, your brain doing its best to process the moment the two of you had shared in the kitchen. 

The cold shower you took did nothing to calm down the feelings swirling around inside you. You had never seen Carmy so in control of anything in his life, the demanding tone he used with you earlier almost had you making a fool of yourself right there in his kitchen. 

A constant beep coming from the oven drew your attention, you quickly made your way to the kitchen grabbing a towel to remove the hot dish from its place resting in the oven. You couldn’t help but marvel at the pretty lasagna in your hands. It was a bit weird to describe food as pretty, but the presentation was generally pleasing to the eyes.

You walked to the countertop to set the dish down, turning to search through the kitchen for plates and utensils. Having a slightly hard time as you had no idea where anything was located at.

“Baby?” The sound of Carmy’s voice startled you, not having heard him make his approach. 

You turned in his direction, a light laugh leaving your lips. It was a bit comical, the two of you dressed nicely, feet bare in his New York apartment. You took in his appearance biting your lip as you spotted his chain that encouraged you to do sinful things. He was dressed in probably the only slacks he owned, the ankles cuffed since he wasn’t wearing shoes. The deep green crew neck hugging his body was similar in color to the dress you were wearing, the unexpected matching caused another laugh to leave your lips. 

The box in his hand finally caught your attention, it appeared to be a present of some sort. You pointed at it with the random spoon you had picked up while searching for cutlery. 

“What’s that?” You furrowed your brows as you watched Carmy revert to his usual shy self. 

He held the gift out to you, “Go ahead, open it.” Your hand brushed his as you took the box from his hold feeling a bit giddy at the unsolicited gift.

Carmy held his breath as he watched you open a five-year-old gift in his kitchen. You looked beautiful and he wanted to tell you but couldn’t seem to force the words out too enthralled with the intimate atmosphere that had been surrounding the two of you since earlier in the kitchen. 

Carmy was a fool for leaving you the morning after Christmas and knowing that he let Mikey down when it came to you haunted him. He was glad to have these days with you, it wasn’t healthy but the two of you were providing a distraction for each other. 

“Carmy oh my goodness,” the gasp of your breath brought Carmy back to reality. His cheeks warmed at seeing you so happy. “How much did this even cost you, these things are like relics.” Your eyes flashed to the smile on your face seeming to brighten up the kitchen.

“It doesn’t matter, I bought this for Christmas and just…I never sent it.” He was prepared for you to scold him for his stupidity, tell him you didn’t care for the gift, and that you couldn’t play pretend with him anymore. 

The press of your warm body against his surprised him, quickly wrapping his arms around your waist. Holding onto you so tightly scared that if he let you go then you would disappear and he’d realize this weekend was just a dream.

“I love it Carmy really, thank you.” Your arms were still wrapped around his neck as the two of you gazed into each other's eyes. 

“Can I,” Carmy paused a laugh escaping his lips at the similarities between this moment and a past one you shared. “Can I kiss you?” 

You wasted no time before you leaned forward pressing a sweet kiss into his lips lingering for a moment to translate the love you felt for him. Carmy’s hand moved up to your jaw, keeping you locked in place against him, his tongue slipping out to caress your bottom lip.

You slowly opened your mouth allowing him in, the softness of his tongue exploring the warmth of your mouth. The kiss was slow, sensual, all the pent-up emotions being shared between the two of you. 

The rhythm Carmy set was easy for you to follow along with, you took the chance to suck on his tongue a bit, losing yourself in the feelings this one kiss was bringing forth.

You parted from Carmy reluctantly, a small smile raised to your lips as you watched him chase you for more. A soft moan escaped you as he began decorating kisses down your jaw and to your neck, tilting your head back to allow him better access, surprise painting your features as he raised you to sit on his counter. 

Carmy continued to study you with his lips, tracing down your pulse point and across your collarbone. It would never be enough for him, he would never be able to satisfy his hunger for you no matter how much of your skin his lips could paint. 

The soft whimpers snatched from your lips going straight to his groin, his hips unconsciously canting against your leg that was in perfect alignment. 

“Touch me Carmy…please,” Carmy swore he could cum from the sound of your begging alone.

But he stopped his ministrations, the realization that he had no idea what he was doing hitting him like a ton of bricks. 

You watched as Carmy pulled away from you chest rapidly puffing up and down as the confusion swept across your face. “Carmy?” Your voice trailed off you couldn’t help the hurt you were feeling, here you were sitting atop Carmy’s kitchen counter dress hiked up to your waist the lacy underwear you had chosen to wear in full view, the straps of your dress pulled down precariously low that the top of your areolas was peeking out. 

You quickly adjusted the top of your dress before hopping off the counter and pulling down the hem. Eyes filling with tears as you were brought back to prom night, memories re-playing all the hurt that came after it. 

Carmy’s head shot up from its place in his hands the tears in your waterline and the way you had shrunken into yourself making him feel like a complete fucking asshole.

“Shit no Baby…I-Fuck!” Carmy watched as you jolted a little at the shout of his voice, he was fucking this up more than it already was.

“Hey, hey,” he closed the distance between the two of you, raising his hands to your jaw and forcing you to look at him. “Baby, I-I’m sorry it's just…I don’t,” Carmy took a deep breath trying to gain his bearings. “I’ve never done this stuff before.” 

Carmy’s eyes followed the emotions crossing your face, a frown painting your face before your eyes widened and your lips parted in the shape of an ‘o’. 

“Carmy…have you never been intimate with anyone before?” Carmy knew your question wasn’t teasing or malicious but he couldn’t help feeling embarrassed at having to admit this to you. 

“I uh, you were my first kiss…and my second kiss just now,” Carmy hung his head in shame, blush rising from his neck to stain his cheeks. 

“Oh my goodness I’m such an asshole,” Carmy looked up at you a chuckle escaping him at your declaration. Your hand reached out to rest against his cheek thumb caressing back and forth. “Carmy I thought you were rejecting me.” Now it was your turn to feel shameful, your first thoughts being selfish ones as opposed to waiting to hear Carmy’s explanation. 

Carmy’s hand came up to grip yours on his cheek, head turning to place a soft kiss on your pulse point. “Let’s sit and eat, yeah?” Carmy waited for your response, smiling at you as you nodded. “I wanna spend as much time together as we can.” 

You pulled him into a sweet kiss, his hands squeezing your waist at the feeling of being able to freely kiss you “I’d like that.” You pulled away the two of you sharing bright smiles as you moved to have the dinner Carmy had so lovingly planned out.

Neither of you pointed out the fact that things would be coming to an end for you two tomorrow, but you’d bask in this loving atmosphere for all the remaining time you two had together. 

You could feel soft lips pressing into the space behind your left ear, your first instinct was worry. Confused by the warm body pressed into you from behind strong arms gripping your waist as though you would disappear at a moment's notice. The memories of the last day with Carmy led you to relax.

A quiet sniffle finally woke you up enough, your eyes opening to the dimly lit room. A familiar head of hair tucked snuggly into your neck, and slight huffs of breaths could be heard.

“Carmy?” The raspiness of your morning voice echoed around the room, you could hear the breathing quiet down a bit, concern spiking in you. 

You began turning wanting to comfort the man you had been in love with for most of your life, it was a struggle as the arms around you tightened but you finally turned to your side Carmy burying his face in your t-shirt-clad chest.

“Carmy, honey,” the lack of response was beginning to worry you, you had shared your fair share of cries with Carmy throughout your friendship but considering the circumstances that brought you together this time around, you couldn’t help but freak out a bit. “Hey, hey look at me yeah?”

“I-I just need a minute please.” The crack of Carmy’s voice went straight to your heart. He maneuvered so the top of his body was laying on your chest and stomach, his lower body settling gently between your legs. 

You leaned forward pressing a lingering kiss to his head before lying back down and slowly stroking your fingers through his hair, wanting to make him as comfortable in this moment as you could. You were content to hold him all day if that’s what he needed.

The two of you laid like that for a while, Carmy’s breathing and sniffling calming down after a few minutes. You watched as Carmy propped himself up on his elbows, pressing a small kiss into the fabric of your shirt over your stomach, a small smile rising to your lips as you watched him.

“Talk to me, Carm?” You watched as he looked up to you, pretty blue eyes swollen from the tears he’d been shedding. 

Carmy moved up a little resting his cheek against your sternum arms wrapped tightly around you, “Uhh, Sug called, said Mikey left something for me.” 

It was quiet as you let his words sink in, a shuddering sigh leaving you as your hands unconsciously began running back through Carmy’s hair. 

You felt Carmy’s hand slip under the shirt of his you were borrowing, fingers gliding across the skin of your stomach lazily tracing circles. The small gesture helped to relax you a bit.

“Did she say anything else?” Your fingernails softly scratched into Carmy’s scalp, the two of you trying to touch each other as much as you possibly could.

Carmy’s chuckle drew your attention, “She uh, asked me to come home.”

Your nails stopped for a minute before you started up again, heart jumping a little in your chest at the idea of Carmy coming back to Chicago, “Are you…going to go home?” The hope in your voice borders on desperation.

Carmy was silent for a moment, hands moving to lift your shirt just underneath your breast before he placed his warm cheek back in its previous position. The news skin-on-skin contact sends chills through both of you. 

“Everything with Mikey kinda made me think about us.” Carmy’s thumb came up, to caress against your rib, dangerously close to your breast. “It just kind of puts into perspective that the people you care about can be here one day…and gone the next.”

The avoidance of your original question was not lost on you, but Carmy opening up may have been better than whatever argument the initial qualm might impose. 

“Baby I-,” you looked at Carmy as he adjusted his position one hand resting against your sternum, his chin plopping onto it. “I um.” He stopped, you followed his movements watching as his eyes closed and he took a deep breath.

“For a while, I’ve known that I feel something for you, but I-I don’t think I can give you what you want.” Your hand slipped from his hair to cup his cheek, hanging on to every word leaving his lips.

Carmy leaned into the palm of your hand, letting himself melt into your touch, cherishing the few moments he had left with you. “And I can’t promise any commitment after today.” The rapid beating of Carmy’s chest could be felt on your stomach, the crack in his voice raising a small smile to your lips. 

You sat up in bed. Carmy looked up at you as you held his chin in your hand, thumb softly tracing his lips as you committed his features to memory. The tiny scars marring his face, the few beauty marks dotted around, connecting them would create a new constellation you swore you’d remember forever. 

Carmy was honest with you, and that’s all you asked of him. Neither of you could promise each other a happy ending after you parted ways and while that hurt, it didn’t make sense to ruin the remaining time the two of you had left dwelling on the future.

“Carmen,” you waited for him to lock eyes with you, a sad smile spread across your features, tears you could no longer hold back coming forth. “I know.” 

Carmy’s lips pressed into your thumb before he gently cupped your neck and reached up so your lips connected. This was only the third kiss the two of you shared, but the intangible love and intimacy that could be felt through the single press of your lips would never dwindle, not for as long as the two of you surrounded yourself with each other.

He raised to his knees both hands entrapping your face, all his passion being poured into this one kiss. Carmy was slightly above you now, the angle forcing you to raise your head to stay connected. His thumb began unconsciously caressing the ‘B’ behind your left ear, a small part of you that had stuck with him ever since he discovered it five years ago.

The kiss intensified as you slipped your tongue between his lips, hands gripping onto his hips as he towered above you in this position. Your tongue moved languidly inside his mouth, small noises escaping the both of you.

Carmy pulled the hair at the nape of your neck, the motion removing your lips from his. “Did you mean what you said?” His breath left him in a huff.

“What?” You were slightly out of breath yourself, confused at what the hell Carmy was on about. 

“What you said about this,” his thumb swiped back and forth against the ‘B’ inked into your skin. “Would you take my last name?” 

You bit your lip, eyes lidded as you searched Carmy’s face, hand moving to grip his soft chin between your forefinger and thumb raising onto your knees so the two of you were eye level.

“Would you like that Carmen? If I let you give me your last name?” A patronizing smile graced your lips, the air between you charged. 

Carmy surged forward hungry for a taste of you, his hands gripped your hair to tug on it a strangled gasp leaving you. The strength with which Carmy took your lips into his forcing your back into the mattress beneath you two, his body hovering over yours. 

Your hand left its place on his chin sliding down to his shoulders caressing the little skin his tank top allowed you to feel. Hands traveling across his chest, the feeling of his toned body under your palms making you needy. You finally made it to the hem of his shirt tugging it up to give you access to the warm skin of his torso.

Carmy parted from you, snatching the shirt over his head before diving back in. Lips leading him to his favorite feature of yours. Your hands wrapped around his shoulders pulling him flush against you, Carmy’s lips ravished your neck as he nipped from your jawline down to your pulse point, teeth sinking in a bit harder.

“Fuck Carmy.” The delicious feeling of Carmen's body against yours, his lips exploring you, hands gripping the skin of your revealed waist. All of it led to the thrust of your hips up into his, it was selfish but you needed him, not that you would force him but whatever he would give you would have to be enough.

Carmy’s sharp intake of breath drew your attention as his hips relentlessly ground into you, hand wandering up your shirt to cup your breast thumb accidentally tracing your nipple. 

Your loud gasp alarmed him. He quickly parted from you saliva connected your lips together as you both took in each other’s disheveled appearances.

“Did I-did I do something wrong?” Sweet Carmy worried that he had ruined the moment. 

You sat up rapidly shaking your head as you stared into his eyes, the both of you breathing heavily, “No, no it was great I promise.”

Carmy nodded gently tracing your jawline as he looked at you, “Baby…I want this moment with you.” The mumble made your heart race, this was a big deal it would change whatever this relationship between the two of you was. 

“Carmy…we don’t have to do anything you aren’t ready for.” You searched his eyes hoping he didn’t feel pressured by the noises you were making.

“Have you…done this before?” Carmy forced himself to keep looking at you regardless of the blush he could feel painting his cheeks.

The small nod you gave relieved him a bit, “Does that bother you?” You didn’t think Camry would mind but you knew the male species could be unpredictable. 

“God no, I just don’t wanna disappoint you.” He finally looked away from you embarrassed to have admitted something so personal. 

“You won’t.” You sent him a small smile before guiding his hands to the hem of your shirt helping him to pull it over your head. Watching his beautiful face take in everything you had to offer him. 

His throat bobbed as he took in a large gulp, you could see the uncertainty in his eyes, proving you’d have to take the reins on this one, not that you minded. The thought of telling Carmy how to pleasure you warmed you up even more. 

Your finger reached out to lift Carmy’s chin, directing his eyes to yours, “What do you want to do to me, Carmen?” 

You watched as he blinked eyes tracing your figure, “I just wanna appreciate you, Baby.” The words left his lips in a whisper.

You were taken aback never having heard that before while being intimate. His hands slowly settled on your waist, the safest option “How should I…do that.”

You smiled moving one of his hands to cup your breast, shuddering at the skin-to-skin contact, “We can start with kissing, then I want you to do whatever feels right okay?”

Carmy nodded, giving your breast a slight squeeze a whimper drawing out of you, taking account of your reaction he gently began rubbing his thumb across your pebbled nipple watching your body writhe at the small action. 

He leaned forward pressing a gentle kiss into your forehead, lips moving to your left cheek then your right. A small kiss pressed into each of your closed eyelids and the tip of your nose. Each corner of your lips got its turn before his lips found the space between your nose and upper lip. One more kiss pressed into your chin before finally ending with a sweet kiss to your lips, cherishing every inch of your face he had kissed.

Carmy made his way to your jawline, starting at the right side and tracing to your left, nipping every so often as he continued his journey. Lips slowly tracing from your jawline to your neck, he wasn’t sure what it was but seeing your neck on display for him made him feral, his hips grinding into your as he decorated your neck in love bites. 

“Lay down f’me.” You eagerly listened watching as Carmy planted another soft kiss into your lips before following the map of your collarbones. Lips pressing into your upper chest as both hands came up to softly knead your breast. 

You could feel Carmy’s hard-on pressing against you, as much as you were enjoying this, all you wanted in the world was to finally please Carmy. You slipped your hand between your bodies sliding into the waistband of his boxers, hand gripping him as a strangled moan parted his lips. The soft caress of your hand against him caused his head to spin, this felt different from the times he would stroke himself thinking about you.

“Does this feel good, Carmy?” Your voice was a little deeper, more sensual as you questioned him. “Do you wish it was me making you cum on those lonely nights, hmm?

“Fuck…yes.” The whine of his voice went straight to your core, spurring you on more. 

Your strokes became a little firmer, applying more pressure to provide him more pleasure. His length twitched against your palm the more you rubbed. Carmy had lost all sense of his own ministrations grinding into your hand while still on top of you, he could feel himself close to ecstasy the feel of your warm body underneath him making him lose all control.

“Ba-Baby stop.” You froze immediately forcing your hormones under wrap, Carmy’s comfortability your priority. 

“Are you okay Carm?” The worry in your voice was obvious as you removed your hand from its grip on him. 

“Ye-yeah, I just want to please you right now.” Carmy’s hand moved to grip your rib cage thumb running back and forth against your under boob, “Can I continue showing my appreciation.” The slight desperation in his voice caused you to rapidly nod your head. 

Carmy gave you a small shy smile, moving to kiss the spot he had been tracing during this time. His lips painted across your whole torso, paying extra attention to your stomach, ideas he wasn’t ready to give merit to racing through his mind as he did so.

Finally, he paused at your hips, the solid cotton panties you wore obscured his path, nose caressing the front of your panties as he took in a deep breath allowing your aroma to invade his senses. “Are you going to take off my panties, Carmy?” The condescending tone in your voice went straight to his throbbing cock.

He nodded, wasting no time in peeling the fabric from its home around your hips, ready to replace it with his bare hands. Carmy raised to his haunches, unconsciously licking his lips at the sight of your naked body sprawled so prettily across his bed. All of you on show just for him.

Carmy returned to his previous task lips pressing wet delicate kisses into each of your hips bones, a lingering one placed at the base of your pelvis before turning his attention to your thighs. Lips trailing down your leg special attention paid to the crook of your knees and ankles. 

Carmy’s eyes found yours as he placed the last kiss on your right ankle, both of your pupils blown from the sequence of events that had just taken place. 

You beckoned Carmy forward urging him to find you once again. As he drew closer you grabbed one of his hands placing it on your right breast before moving it down so it caressed the rest of your torso, and down your pelvis finally stopping before the place you needed his touch most.

This was your way of giving him an out, the two of you could stop right here if he wanted to, the slight nod of his head told you otherwise. 

Your grip on his hand changed as you grabbed his forefinger and middle finger, your free hand parting your lower lips as you traced his fingers through your slick, a filthy moan escaping into the bedroom as Carmy’s calloused fingers finally stroked you.

“Do you feel that Carmy?” He nodded his head, eyes not leaving yours for a minute. “It's all for you, you made me feel this good.” 

You moved his fingers lower watching his face as you glided his two fingers into you, biting your lower lip at the hunger in you that was finally being tended to.

Carmy’s mouth fell open as he watched the ecstasy wash over your face, lost in the feeling of touching you in the most intimate way he had ever touched anyone before. His head dropped, eyes watching as you slowly swallowed his fingers, in and out the movement making him achingly hard. 

Carmy’s lips dropped to your ear a shy whisper caressing your ear, “I want to be inside you.” The vulnerability in Carmy’s voice caused you to bite your lip, satisfied that he was finally speaking up about what he wanted. 

“You are.” You teased him, clenching around his digits as his eyes drank you in.

You let out a whine as he removed his fingers from your grip, hand pressing your hip into the bed as he stared you down. “Please…I want this…with you.” The words unsaid weighing heavily between you two.  

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” You watched as he slipped out of his boxers, stroking himself as you watched and waited for your instructions. You motioned for him to lay atop you more noses brushing as he got into position, “I’ll guide you, but I need you to go slow okay, it’ll be a tight fit.” 

Carmy nodded his head, neither of you daring to ask about any contraception too lost in the thoughts of finally connecting in ways the two of you had only dreamed of.

You would come to regret the consequences of this decision later.

A smile split your lips before you surged up to capture Carmy’s lips, needing to distract yourself.

You guided him to your entrance only allowing the tip to go in to not overwhelm Carmy. Your mouth fell open in the shape of an ‘o’ as Carmy eagerly thrust into you, your hand raised to his shoulder to stop his movements.

“Carm, slowly, please.” His eyes met yours taking in the slight pain that his intrusion had caused, he nodded hand raising to cup your cheek.

“You look so beautiful like this.” A tender moment was shared between the two of you as you urged Carmy to continue his journey, shuddered moans escaping the both of you as he reached the hilt.

The feeling of finally being full with Carmy made you emotional, both of you just taking a moment to gaze at each other. Appreciating the finality of this all, Carmy leaned down to kiss a tear running down your cheek that escaped, his own eyes welling up, neither of you could find the right words to cement how much this moment meant to the two of you.

Carmy pulsed inside you the movement caused you to clench around him, “You did so good for me Carmy.” The praise went straight to his cock, eyes rolling back at how good a few words made him feel. 

“Can you move for me, Carm, it’ll make us both feel good.” The soft thrust of his hips was enough for you. 

He continued the slow motion of his hips, eyes connected with yours as the ghost of those three words he struggled to say filtered between the two of you. Your hand raised to wipe the single tear sliding down his cheek.

Nothing in the world could take this moment from the two of you. If Aphrodite could tell the story of your love she would describe it as a tangible heartbreaking thing always growing, and most times fleeting. Something both you and Carmy could touch, feel, and breathe. The love filtering between the two of you was clear as day to anyone who had a heart. 

The warm muscular hand pressed into the flesh of your hip bone driving you crazy. The fingers pressed into you harder and harder with each accompanying thrust. One hand pressed into the pillow by your head keeping the body atop of you from crushing you under its weight. You appreciated the cautionary position, but you had longed for this connection for what felt like ages and you would gladly welcome the weight of the perspiring chest burying you further into the mattress.

A golden gleam caught your eye taking you away from how the tattooed knuckles flexed against your hip every few seconds. You looked to see his golden chain dangling back and forth above your face, taunting you. The sway of the metal matched the rocking motion of his hips, the synchronicity of the two things driving you absolutely wild. Eyes concentrated on the gold chain it was almost like a switch was flipped in you and the catalyst was that fucking gold chain.

Your eyes moved to his face, his pupils blown wide as he stared down at you. You parted your lips his intense gaze causing you to clench down on him unconsciously, his eyes rolling back as his hand left its spot on your hip traveling up your torso thumb softly brushing over your nipple as it found its destination cupping your cheek with such intensity you were sure the shape of his thumb would be imprinted onto your jaw.

His eyes found yours once more, his thumb moving a few inches to softly caress your bottom lip. Your mouth opened on instinct to leisurely suck on his digit a hoarse ‘Fuck’ leaving the warm body that was making you feel so good. You released his thumb, feeling it tug at your bottom lip as his hand found its way back to your cheek.

You watched him above you, the ecstasy in his eyes warming your skin, you’d do anything to be able to please him if he always looked at you in that way. The flash of gold from his chain caught your attention again, the angle of his thrust causing you to gasp, a softly whispered moan of “Carmy,” leaving your lips. Carmy’s chain hovered above your open mouth begging to be taken between your teeth, you appeased your desires, your tongue latching onto the chain as you brought it to settle between your teeth. Carmy’s hips fucking into you at a slightly faster pace, your leg wrapping around his waist the heel of your foot pressing into his back to bring the two of you impossibly closer. 

“Fuck-Baby, shit!” Watching Carmy struggle for words had never been as sexy as it was at that moment. Knowing that you were the cause of his incoherent muttering. 

“Please, Carmy,” another gasp ripped through you, your teeth losing hold of Carmy’s signature gold chain. “Mmm yes, Carmen. Just like that.” You settled for whispering in his ear, the new position you had chosen had his head resting against your collarbone, his ear directly next to your mouth. You could feel Carmy’s hand moving from your cheek to clench your jaw between his thumb and remaining fingers. His hand moved your head to reveal your neck the feeling of soft wet kisses making a path to your ear, Carmy’s thrust slowing slightly.

You could feel his breath against your cheek, the soft whine he let out as your cunt clenched around him. His lips pressed against the shell of your ear, “Say that again.” His rough voice traveled through you, the thumping of your clit beating faster and faster.

“Just like that.” You moaned wanting to please him as much as he wanted to please you. 

His fingers dug into your chin, the roughness of his touch causing a high-pitched moan to leave your lips. “Sa-say my name?” The request made your head spin.

“Carm-,” Carmy’s hand returned to its earlier position holding himself above you causing your leg to drop back to the bed.

“N-no,” the strain in his voice was evident as he tilted your head down to stare directly into your eyes. “M-my name sa-say it. Please.” 

You bit your lip his whiny plea going straight to your clit. Your hand reachesdup to match his fingers gripping his chin firmly. Your blown pupils searching his wide doe eyes. It was hard to distinguish where the blue began and the black ended. Your faces were inches apart, you could tell from his breathing that your grip on his chin stirred something inside him. The soft rocking of his hips into yours caused your bottom lips to caress each other in the rhythm he had set.

“Carmen.” The syllables of his name left your mouth in a wanton moan, there was a moment where the thrusting of Carmy’s hips came to a slow stop before he surged forward and messily captured your lips in a kiss full of tongues and moans. Carmy’s hips began rutting into yours, the speed and intensity sending you both into a spiral. Your hand lost its grip on his chin to slither between your bodies matching Carmy’s pace and applying it to your clit. 

The grip on your chin was gone as Carmy’s hand followed the path yours had previously taken sending a soft squeeze to your breast. “Te-teach me how.” God you could’ve cum from that sentence alone. You began rapidly nodding your head before placing your hand atop his own guiding his index and middle finger into generously massaging your clit. 

“Car-Carmen, don’t stop please don’t stop.” Your voice leaves you in a sharp cry.

“Yeah? Is this good?” Your unabashed moan did more to answer Carmy’s question than any words could.

“Carmeee, I’m gonna come, please.” The banging of the headboard against the wall an indication of just how fast Carmy was thrusting into you.

“Whe-where should I-,” You could hear the slight panic in Carmy’s voice, assuming he was on the cusps of an orgasm as well.

“In me Carmy jus- all of it.” His fingers pressed into your clit going at a pace your brain couldn’t keep up with.

The speed of Carmy’s breathing increased. His head finding its way back into the crook of your neck, lips scattering kisses across your neck, “I’ll give it to you all. M’ gonna give you everything.” The sound of Carmen’s voice so quiet you weren’t sure if he had intended anyone else’s ears to hear it.

Whatever Carmen’s intentions his words were the last thing you needed to hear before bliss took over your senses. Your orgasm washed over you in waves, the intensity causing loud moans to escape your lips, clenching Carmy’s cock so hard you were sure it must’ve been painful. 

Riding the high of your orgasm, Carmen’s deep drawn-out groan vibrated into your neck as you felt him give two final rapid thrusts before the dam he had been holding back finally burst inside you. You felt his thrust slow down as he began peppering kisses across your face, “Thank you, thank you.” His voice trailed off into a whisper before his full body weight settled into you.

Now that the bed was no longer threatening to put a hole through his wall, the only sound filling the bedroom was the panting breaths you and Carmy were letting out.

Carmy looked up at you, the wetness on his cheeks matching yours. His forehead leaned against yours the vulnerability the two of you had for each other on full show. Breaths of love were shared between you as your lips gently touched. You knew the words you wanted to say at this moment, felt them so deep in your soul that your tears wouldn’t cease their downpour.

But you also knew how flighty the beautiful man in front of you was, it hurt but you would once again have to swallow your love for this man to ensure he remained in your life.

You laughed as Carmy hovered atop of you the Polaroid he gifted you in his hands the device raised to his eye. Your arm was thrown over your face the fact that the two of you were in this position at all still mind blowing . Carmy nudged your arm, he had been snapping photos of you for a while now, both of you ignoring the fact that he should have been getting ready for work instead of laying with your naked body barely covered under him. 

“Show me that smile, pretty girl,” you slowly moved your arm, the smile splitting your face hard to control. “You seem to like my chain so much, I want to remember what you look like in it.” Carmy could be devilish when he wanted to, the way he would sometimes gain confidence and say what was on his mind, throwing you for a loop.

Your eyes left the camera in his hand as you stared at his face, so enchanted with who Carmy was as a person. Only being jolted out of your trance as the Polaroid fluttered out of the camera and landed on the center of your chest. 

Carmy moved the camera smiling down at you before picking up the photo and examining it, the corner of his lips ticking up in a half smile. He placed the picture on the other pillow where all the other Polaroids were sprawled out. You watched as he set the camera down next to your head cupping your jaw before leaning down and pressing a firm kiss into your forehead a mumbled ‘Perfect’ escaped his lips. 

“Will you take a picture with me Carmy,” your words came out shyly hoping he would agree. You felt his nose nuzzle into your neck planting a small kiss on your tattoo before moving to lay next to you in the bed. 

You reached over to plant a soft kiss on his cheek before grabbing the camera from its spot by your head. You raised it watching as the soft smile graced Carmy’s face, your eyes not wanting to leave the perfect view of his side profile that you had fallen in love with, finger accidentally slipping, the sound of the camera shutter filled the space between you too.

Carmy pulled the photo out waiting for it to develop as he looked in your direction. A wide grin took over his face just by looking at you, your hand began lowering the camera before his hand shot out and raised your hand, and the camera back up quickly pressing your finger into the button to capture this moment in time. 

You let him grab the camera from your hands before he placed it on the nightstand, once again holding your face in place as the two of you shared your softest kiss yet. 

— — — —

You watched as Carmy maneuvered around his room slipping into a clean pair of chef whites, he was late and you could tell he was panicking on the inside but didn’t want to worry you. The two of you had wasted away in the shower washing each other's bodies and holding each other under the hot spray of water. Neither of you wanted to leave the confines of the shower, knowing your time together was finally expiring.

You sat on the bed with your legs pulled up to your chest, chin resting atop them, a fresh pair of panties, and his deep green crew neck from last night your only form of clothing. The tension between the two of you had been broken the moment Carmy realized just how behind schedule he was, shoving reality down your throat as the game of pretending the two of you had been playing was finally snuffed out.

Carmy’s eyes landed on you in his rush clocking the glaze of your eyes, head not rationalizing why you might be upset at the moment. Finally gathering all his necessities he rushed over to you kneeling in front of you pressing one last kiss onto your forehead.

“I’ll be home soon, yeah.” You closed your eyes, the words breaking your heart into pieces.

“Yeah, be safe okay?” Carmy smiled, capturing your lips in his for the last time tonight hand cupping the back of your head to hold you in place.

The two of you separated small side smiles mirroring each other, both of you knew that Carmy would return home to an empty apartment tonight, but neither of you would voice that truth. 

You followed him to the front door needing to see him off before your return to Chicago. He opened the door lingering between the door and the hallway hand gripping yours before pressing a soft kiss into the pulse point at your wrist.

You shared small smiles as Carmy made his way to leave, sending you one last wave before he disappeared down the hallway.

Your closed the door, forehead pressing into it as you stood there trying to gain your bearings, doing your best to control your tears as you knew this moment was inevitable.

A soft “I love you, Carmen.” Breathed into the empty apartment soft enough for it to feel like a ghost had whispered those words and not you.

But not quiet enough that the man who returned on the other side of the door missed the declaration. 

Heart thudding in his chest. His hand ready to turn the keys in the doorknob dropped to his side. His feet shuffled backward as he took one last glance at the door before reverting to his journey to work.

He could go one day without his signature chain that he had so lovingly placed around your delicate neck.

a/n: idk what to say really…enjoy : ) [actually no this is my first smut so please let’s learn from carmy’s mistakes and don’t come for me 😉] i’m like the only person on the planet who thinks i’m funny that’s how laughable it is 😭

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[laswells-ashtray]

Okay, I don't know if you really write this sort of thing, but I need me some Omega Kate smut. Begging on my hands and knees for someone to let that woman have a break and take care of her! She works so hard to be on top of things, all the time, and I just think it would be nice if her wife very gently and carefully coaxed control out of her hands, let fingers caught in clawed defiance soften into pawing at bedsheets, knowing that even like this she's still being taken seriously. She could have control back, if she only asked, but she doesn't need it.

Sorry, I realise this turned into a bit of a mini-drabble of my own, whoops!

To whoever this is, I'm so sorry that I haven't responded before now because God, if this ain't one of the best asks I've received so far.

The scent is dizzying to Sarah, sending her senses haywire as she ever so gently curls her fingers and watches Kate's hips grind down on them as the omega growls halfheartedly.

It's not nearly enough to get Kate off but until the omega stops trying to fight her for control of the situation as if her slick isn't soaking Sarah's wrist and her scent of utterly desperate arousal isn't damn near suffocating.

She's kind enough to lean down and press a kiss to the omega's throbbing clit and pretend that the wanton moan that reaches her ears doesn't make her want to knot Kate until the omega is sobbing tears and clenching around her as she cums.

"Sarah, fucking do something. Move, please-"

She watches Kate's nails pierce the fabric of their duvet, head thrown back as she thrusts her fingers into the omega's cunt, one hand kneading at the meat of Kate's thigh as her eyes are drawn to the slick puddling under her.

Kate smells like cinnamon, she's warm with a hint of spice and it's ambrosial. If Sarah pinned her down and nuzzled in at Kate's scent gland, nipping and sucking at her neck then she's sure that she could cum untouched.

She lets go of Kate's thigh, leaning forward to grab one of her tits, pinching her nipple between two fingers and revelling in how Kate's back arches off of the bed, breath leaving her as her other nipple ends up in Sarah's mouth.

Once, during her heat, she'd made Kate cum in her pants just by slipping her hand under the omega's shirt and playing her tits. The other woman had been damn near insistent that she try to power through and go to work, she had lasted another three minutes before pawing at her clit over her panties and begging Sarah to just take her right in their kitchen counter.

She glides her fingers in and out Kate's cunt, nipping at the other woman's nipple as she feels her clench down on the two digits.

She only stops tormenting the omega's poor, red, abused nipples to lean back on her heels, letting saliva gather in her mouth before spitting onto the blonde's clit, ignoring Kate's utterly debauched gasp as she rubs the pad of her thumb over the spit-soaked bud.

She knows Kate is about to cum before Kate does herself, the familiar mewl as her hips frantically twitch in a desperate attempt to meet Sarah's fingers as they plough into her, massaging over her g-spot with the accuracy of a sniper as she pushes Kate closer to the edge.

Kate's own hand lands on her chest, squeezing and kneading at her tit as her thighs try to clamp closed around Sarah's hand, hips jerking in pathetic weak little thrusts as she cums over the two fingers still softly slipping in and out of her cunt as she works Kate through her orgasm.

Only when Kate lets out a quiet murmur of protest does she stop, crawling up next to the omega on the bed and pressing a kiss to her cheek. She lays on her back, eyes drifting across the ceiling, licking and sucking her fingers clean of slick and cum, pretending she doesn't hear Kate's faint cry of "oh fuck".

[eldritch-spouse]

Livius falls for a sensitive and soft spoken girl. She has a crush on someone and has been leaving them love letters, but she plans to confess to them in person. Livius possesses her crush and rips into her with her insecurities when she confesses her feelings. She runs off crying and retreats to a park where she finds comfort. Well, wouldn't you know she meets a teal demon that's going to comfort her when she is down and vulnerable.

Livius knows too much about you.

Forget the standards of your usual stalker, or even a dedicated, highly dangerous obsessed individual- We're talking about a demonlord with the ability to see the ugliest sides of your soul. Livius needs not a whole day to scrape the dirt of your entire existence and present it to you.

Of course, he would never! He loves you to pieces, you're his Queen-to-be, and he will put on your grossest qualities like a warm blanket, because even those rancid parts of you infatuate him. He craves your short-comings as much as he desires to embody your biggest virtues. But sometimes, oh sometimes, he does have to use that knowledge against you. Has to highlight your flaws as if he didn't love them.

Livius hates the body of your worthless admired. It's putrid, boring, worthless. His anger is so great that he starts clawing up its insides, making sure his unfortunate host won't live much longer. Of course, the organ damage makes it so Livius has to exert more energy to keep his scheme going, but it's affordable. The demonlord swipes through the messages you sent to this person, getting more and more rabid with jealousy before inevitably crushing the screen.

Meeting you in person is even more painful. The loving gaze you spare them, the adoration, the way you lean forward and constantly fix your appearance, egg them on for more conversation... The demonlord is so sick with envy that he twists and roils inside his borrowed body, deforming it slightly, face wanting to contort into something feral and enraged. His fury gets in the way of the calculated plan Livius had concocted, and the words he spits at you possess such wounded vitriol that he doesn't stop until something in your very core shatters and you shudder at the uncomfortable accuracy of his every remark. Livius rips into your deepest, most secretive doubts like a wild pitbull, only stopping to watch your crying face as you sob with your hands on your lap and your head low. It's gorgeous, even in pain, you're gorgeous.

He lets his actual teeth tear open the cheeks of his host when you stand and take off running. A day or two should do, to let you really marinate on his poison. You'll be so heartbroken that even the comfort of a powerful demon will look appealing and harmless.

[dark-frosted-heart]

Azel Radwan - Ideal Type Bond Story

I should do these in order but...oh well

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this.

Azel: My ideal type...Let's see. Well, I don't feel a particular need to answer. End of conversation.

Azel: Oof, don't pull on me. Every. Single. Time. You don't know when to give up. Fine, I'll tell you.

Azel: Make no mistake, there's no way I'd ever like you.

-

But I like you...!

Azel: That's a bold-faced lie. No way any woman would like such a snarky guy...Right?

Azel: ......Don't joke around like that or you'll receive divine punishment. Probably.

...You're so mean...sob...

Azel: I'm not falling for that again. You suck at fake crying.

Ohhhh, is that so

Azel: At least sound interested since you asked. Don't pretend like you don't care.

-

Azel: I never gave it much thought, but I suppose I like women who are logical.

Azel: Someone who doesn't suddenly ask me what my type is, unlike you.

Azel: But in reality, you're the one I've been talking to the most lately...I don't get it.