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illyrianbitch · 7 months ago

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One Summer — Part Nine

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: One beach house. One festival. One summer to fall in love.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, marijuana usage, sweet dirty talk and praise, fingering, oral, p in v, fluffy sex <3

if you’re uncomfortable with smut, this chapter can be skipped with no impact on the plot <3 it can also be read as a stand-alone if desired.

Word Count: 4.7k

Previous Part | Series Masterlist |

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

It was nine at night and you and Az were the only two in the house.

Rhys had made reservations for him and Feyre at an upscale restaurant half an hour away, a place where his father used to take his mother on special occasions. You'd been nosy and googled it. It was the kind of place with candlelit tables and a string quartet in the corner, where the waitstaff wore tuxedos and addressed you by title.

Mor and Cassian were out, too. The twins they’d met at Summit were staying in some house twenty minutes away and throwing a huge party. They tried to drag you and Az along, but the idea of squeezing into a crowded house with a bunch of strangers didn’t really compare to the night you had in mind. So you and Azriel had politely declined, both secretly craving something more enjoyable—smoking a fat joint and enjoying the quiet, just the two of you.

You sat on the kitchen counter, swinging your legs idly as Az finished preparing your snacks— the main thing that brought you both to the kitchen to begin with. Your mouth was still slightly dry from the joint, that earthy aftertaste still lingering in the back of your throat.

“This isn’t a conspiracy theory because it’s like, an actual thing,” you said, leaning back on your hands. “But I love the fact that so many of those sea monsters we read about were probably just whale penises.”

Azriel stilled, turning to look at you with an amused brow. “What?”

You nodded emphatically, cheeks aching from the deep smile still on your face. “People would see these giant, weird things sticking out of the water and think it was some sort of sea serpent or whatever, but it was actually just a whale showing off it’s huge dick.”

Azriel held your gaze for a moment before he burst out into laughter. The sound dissipated throughout the room and you swore it made it lighter, made the kitchen glow with a sense of life it didn't have a few moments prior. You weren't sure how it was possible, but somehow your smile grew even wider.

There was something about Azriel’s laugh that felt energizing, especially when you were high. It was something far more than just a sensory experience. You watched as he shook his head, the curls on his hair moving as his eyes found yours again. Slightly puffy, bright with amusement.

“I have to show you. It’s crazy.” You moved to grab your phone from its current place face-down on the counter next to you.

Azriel reached out and covered your hand with his. “Nooo.”

“Az, you have to.”

“Later, maybe.” His expression softened as he looked at you, the laughter fading into a tender smile. “But first, taste test time.”

You sat up straighter, looking down at the plate in front of him. “They’re ready?”

You’d had a specific craving—something sweet, gooey, and crunchy. Azriel had taken it upon himself to make your dream come true. He made do with what was in the pantry, melting down marshmallows and making a pan of small home-made rice krispy bars. He’d covered them with Nutella, rolling them up like some delicacy you’d find in a high-end bakery.

His smile widened, and without a word, he held one out for you. You eagerly accepted it, your fingers brushing against his before you brought the treat to your mouth. Your eyes fluttered closed, and a moan left your lips as the sweet, rich flavors exploded on your tongue.

“How is it?”

You nodded, head bobbing as you took another gluttonous bite.

“It’s perfect,” you said, finally finding the strength to open your eyes and look at him. “This might be the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

He chuckled softly, watching as you took another bite. “Yeah?”

You nodded again. “You could be a chef. I would pay you to stay in the kitchen, looking all pretty and making food for me.”

Azriel raised an eyebrow. “So a trophy chef.”

You grinned. “Exactly.”

He laughed again, bringing his hands to either side of your thighs as he leaned in closer. “What happened to me being a spy, huh?”

You shrugged lightheartedly. “That too. Honestly, Az, you could be anything you wanted.”

He narrowed his eyes, brows furrowing slightly, the corners of his lips still curved in that half-smile that made your heart skip.

“Because I can make little treats?” He asked.

You cocked your head at him, running your gaze over his face. “Because you’re so good at putting yourself to the task at hand.”

Azriel blinked, and the crease between his brows softened. You watched as something crossed through his face, something wistful and warm.

“What?” you asked when he didn't speak.

“Nothing.”

You let your thoughts wander as you finished the treat in your hand. Everyone seemed to have a clear idea of what they wanted— or, at least, an idea of where their ambitions lied. But Azriel was different. He was like you. Hesitant, unsure. Back in freshman year, he’d taken a few criminology classes he loved. He had a passion then, but as the years went by you assumed he’d switched gears, choosing to focus on his general education classes instead. Azriel understood the pressure of fitting into a mold you weren't entirely sure about.

“What do you wanna do, Az?”

Azriel’s face grew thoughtful, his gaze scanning your face as if searching for something. His eyes flickered and then a smile, slow and soft, spread across his lips. He leaned in just a fraction closer. “I want to kiss you.”

You felt a rush of heat and looked down at your lap, nervously brushing your hands together. “That’s not what I meant.”

Azriel lifted your chin with a delicate finger, bringing your gaze to his. He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes playfully. “No?”

His gaze flicked to somewhere below your eyes. A second later, he brought his thumb to the corners of your lips, gently wiping away what you knew was probably excess chocolate.You inhaled sharply and felt something deep in your chest – something like a wire strung tight, ready to sing with the slightest touch. You’d been craving him for so long now. You could feel that familiar sensation, that burning desire simmering low in your gut. The way those damn grey sweatpants hung on his hips didn’t help matters either.

His touch lingered on your skin, hovering just above your bottom lip. Before he could pull his hand away, you took his thumb into your mouth, sucking off the remaining chocolate.

Azriel’s breath hitched, lips parting in surprise. The low groan that left his lips next invigorated you, pushing you to bring your tongue around his thumb, swirling and sucking on it. When he met your gaze, you slowly released it, and he traced it along your bottom lip as a shaky breath escaped him.

“We have the house to ourselves."

With darkened eyes, Az ran his thumb along your lips again, swallowing hard. You traced the motion down the column of his throat. Before you could fully register the loss of his touch, his hands gripped your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the counter. You gasped as he positioned himself between your legs, and instinctively, you wrapped them around him.

"Az.."

He closed the gap between you, lips crashing against yours as he kissed you deeply. You weren't sure if you'd ever get used to it. Perhaps it was a very strong honeymoon period, that the way Az kissed you felt magical because it had only been two weeks of this. But you felt starved, felt as if you needed more and more of him to satiate you— yet even still, you were insatiable.

You nipped at his lower lip, moved yourself to press against him further. You let him take the lead, letting out a breathy moan against his lips at the feeling of his skin pressed against yours. His kisses moved from your lips to your neck and you arched into him, welcomed him with a bared throat and a tug to his curls. His touch was everywhere at once—his hands roaming over your back, his lips trailing down your collarbone. Your body sang with every movement, with the feeling of his mouth on your skin.

You could feel the heat of his breath against you as he nipped and kissed his way to your ear.

“Do we want to go upstairs?”

You nodded before words could form. Nodded as you tangled your fingers further into his hair, nodded as you pulled him to your face, bringing him into another kiss. "Yes," you whispered between breaths. “Yes, please."

Azriel’s smile brushed against your skin as he kissed you back.

You made your way up the stairs, every step wobbly and uncoordinated as Az attempted to lead you both, lips still locked, his hands around your waist and yours around his neck.

"Shit." Azriel cursed as he bumped against the well, the pictures frames rattling with the impact. You pulled back, steadying yourself against the wall as your laughter bubbled up.

"Az," you playfully scolded through a breath, "You're going to knock everything down."

He only shushed you with a mischievous smile, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you back into his orbit. Another frame tilted askew as he maneuvered you both along. You pulled away for a moment, your gaze falling to the framed photo in front of you, the one you'd come to love so dearly. It got better every time you saw it, from the pizza in Mor's braces to the nauseatingly sweet frame of awkward fifteen year old Azriel.

"I love this photo," you said, pointing to it with a delicate smile. "Look at you."

Azriel glanced at it, his face scrunching in mock horror. "That’s a horrendous photo," he said, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your lips. He broke apart, shaking his head against yours. "Don’t look at it."

"But Az—"

"Don’t look!" He insisted, and you laughed into his kiss.

"I love hearing you laugh," Azriel murmured against your lips, "And that I'm the one causing it." He kissed you again. "But right now," he said, his voice dropping to a low, heated murmur, "I’d much rather be making you moan.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You melted into his touch, feeling your skin set alight as his hands roamed, his lips pressing against yours with a hunger that tasted of deep desire, something sweet and smoky like longing. The touch of a lover craving another.

You stumbled together into your room— the nearest one to the stairs, and the door slammed shut behind you. Azriel fumbled with the strings of his waistband, fingers slipping as he struggled to undo the knot.

"Ah, fuck," he said, voice still tinged with that sense of amusement, that laugh still in his tone. A few seconds later, his sweats were halfway down his leg, tangling around his ankles as he tried to kick them off.

"Careful," you warned, trying to stifle your laughter. Azriel then watched, amused, as you struggled to pull off your shirt, the fabric snagging on your earrings. And when you'd managed to free yourself, your hands were on him, slipping under his shirt, curious fingers skimming over the hard planes of his stomach. You tugged the fabric over his head, taking in the grin that played on his lips.

The shirt sailed through the air, landing haphazardly on your bedside lamp. You and Az laughed, a shared sound that he swallowed as he pulled you into another kiss. His hands were on you, guiding you back, and you were both still laughing as you fell back onto your bed in a tangle of limbs, all clothes besides his underwear long removed and thrown in a corner. Azriel leaned over you, face flushed, eyes filled with warmth.

"Hey," he murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face.

You laughed, biting your lip as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer until your noses almost touched. "Hey," you repeated, like a schoolgirl with a crush.

"I really like you."

Azriel's voice was soft, a whisper that felt as soulful as a Sunday confession. It caressed your skin, made your heart flutter and core clench.

"Good to know," you said with a dainty smile. "I like you too."

A smile broke out across Az's face and you brought a trailing hand to feel the dimples on his cheeks, tracing the smile lines etched into his skin. You were completely naked below him now. Strangely, you'd never felt this comfortable, never felt so at ease. Your fingers brushed against the cool metal of the chain necklace hanging around his neck. You played with it absentmindedly, feeling the smooth links sliding between your fingers.

You tugged at it lightly as you murmured, "And I also like this."

"Yeah?"

You nodded, still running your fingers along the chain, feeling the heat of his skin just beneath it. You weren't sure how it was possible for a piece of jewelry to be so attractive, for simple metal to make you picture the dirtiest of images. But it was. And you had been. You weren't ashamed to admit that you'd imagined how it would feel dangling in your face as Az pounded into you. You finally met his eyes and nodded, breathless despite having done nothing but trace the cool metal around his neck. "Yeah."

Azriel’s eyes darkened, the playful warmth in them shifting into something deeper, hungrier. His smile curved into a smirk. "Good," he rasped, and your breath hitched at the intensity in his voice.

His lips were on yours again. Gone was the soft, teasing rhythm from before. Now, his mouth was hot and demanding, as if he were starving and you were the only thing that could satisfy his hunger. The sudden switch from sweet to searing made your heart race. You tugged on the chain again, more forcefully this time, and he growled in response, fingers eagerly tracing the outline of your body. You shivered with each touch, with each drag of his hands across your skin.

His hand found your breast, exposed to the cool air, and you shuddered as his ridged fingers tweaked your nipple. You arched beneath him and he paused for a moment, lips hovering just above yours.

“Tell me what you like,” he whispered.

Your mind raced, the words catching in your throat as you tried to form a coherent thought. You wanted him everywhere, wanted him to explore you for hours, to ruin you for the touch of anyone else. You shook your head, breathing heavily, trying with all your might to summon an answer.

"I-I don't know."

He shook his head, leaning in to brush his lips against yours in invitation. He said something else, something quieter and alluring, a sentence probing you to answer, to think.

"Please just touch me," you managed to breathe as your gaze bounced between his eyes. "I just want you to touch me."

Azriel's lips curved into a satisfied smile. “Like this?” he asked, beginning to move down as his hand slid down your exposed stomach.

“Yes,” you said, your body reacting to his touch. “And kiss me."

"Kiss you where?"

He was beneath your navel now, the trail of his path wet with the open kisses he'd left. You took a shaky breath. "Everywhere."

He chuckled softly against the bare skin of your leg. “Everywhere, huh?”

You nodded, unable to find the words to express how much you wanted him. Your hands moved to his hair, fingers threading through the dark curls as he continued to explore. He leaned, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss against the very top of your thigh, just shy of where you needed him, where your body ached for him. But just as you thought he might give you what you were silently begging for, he pulled back. His lips began a slow journey upward, leaving you yearning, the frustration building with each inch he traveled.

He paused just above your mouth, sharing a breath as he looked down at you. "I've thought about this for so long," he murmured, "How I wanted to touch you first, the ways I wanted you to fall apart."

You released a sound in response, needy and pleading. You’d spent countless nights imagining what it would be like to be with Azriel, to see the side of him he reserved for only a few. You’d wondered how his touch might feel—gentle, reverent, like a lover tracing sacred ground. You'd thought of him worshiping your body like a saint, his hands gliding over your bare skin, fantasized about the way his fingers might curl inside you, delicate yet purposeful, stroking the most intimate parts of you until you unraveled beneath him.

“I want to hear all those pretty noises I know you can make,” he continued, his thumb brushing over your swollen lips. “Can you do that for me?”

But you hadn’t imagined this. You hadn’t expected him to be so talkative, to render you speechless with a single look. The hunger in his eyes made you feel divine, as though he was starving for you, for the taste of you, for the sound of your voice.

You nodded. It was all you could do— barely able to breathe, let alone speak. He smiled like the sun and kissed you again, one hand curving along your shoulder, sliding down your body with painful slowness, a detour around the curve of your breast, a whimper into his mouth.

It felt like hours before his palm slid down the rise of your belly, torturous and tentative. Then finally, his hand slipped between your thighs. He traced the slickness of your core and you gasped in relief, felt as he greedily accepted the sound with his tongue.

There was something profoundly intimate about the way Azriel's eyes locked with yours as he worked his fingers inside you, something about how your foreheads rested against each other as he groaned. Az was watching you, observing every reaction to the movements he made. He kissed you throughout it, rotating between staring at you, molding your lips to his, and sucking on that sensitive area of your ear lobe; kissing alongside your neck as he praised you.

"Such a pretty mess," he murmured against your ear. "Does this feel good?"

He added another finger, thumb circling your clit. You squeezed your eyes shut, a desperate moan escaping your lips as the pleasure mounted. Then he was moving, pulling away from you as he descended down your body, following the trail of kisses and marks he'd left before. Azriel shifted his body, positioning himself right before your core, pushing your legs further apart to nestle between them. Your gaze fell to his hands, slick and glistening with your desire. For a moment he stilled, focused gaze as he watched his fingers disappear inside you.

And when he pulled them out, he spread the wetness further across your folds, eyes locked on yours, pupils blown with need. He was saying your name, praising you, watching as you squirmed at his touch.

"Azriel." You moaned out.

"Yeah, beautiful?"

You couldn't respond, weren't sure what you wanted to say.

“Jesus. Look at you,” he said, his voice a low growl. “So fucking pretty. Your body is perfect.”

You were torn between begging him to keep talking, to speak more and let his words roll over you, and begging him to touch you more, to feel him inside you, to fuck you.

With his eyes still locked on yours, he brought his mouth to your cunt, groaning in approval the moment he drew your essence into his mouth. His fingers slipped back inside you, finding a deep, aching spot, and your hand tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. Each tug on his hair elicited a low, approving groan from him, and you stored that information away, tucked it safely for a later time.

Your eyes fell shut as you neared the edge, body tensing with the imminent release. No, your mind echoed. Not yet. You let out a ragged breath, pulling at the curls on Az's head and pushing him away from your cunt. Azriel immediately loosened his hold on you, eyes shooting up to yours, brows furrowing with a growing concern.

“Not yet,” you managed, your voice breathy and urgent. “With you. On you. Please.”

The crease softened and his eyes grew dark again, hungry and blown wide. He grinned, hair tousled, lips glistening and swollen, and nodded in understanding. Az rid himself of the last piece of clothing he had, shedding his underwear as you drank in the sight of him before you. His naked form pressed against yours as he lay over you. You reached between you, wrapping your hand around him and stroking him slowly, tentatively. His answering groans were low and guttural, brows furrowing with each movement of your hand.

“Do you have—?”

He nodded toward your bedside table. “You should. Rhys’s mom was very serious about safe sex.”

His voice was rough like gravel, octaves below what he normally spoke. If you weren't already drenched by now, you would've been pooling at the sound alone. You let out a breathless laugh and Azriel managed to lean over to your left drawer— the one you’d never really used, never even bothered to check what might be in it. His fingers fumbled briefly before he pulled out a small foil packet. He ripped it open with still glistening hands, and you took it from him, rolling it over his length with careful precision. Pumping him once, twice. Savoring the sinful sounds leaving his lips.

He was bigger than you had anticipated and your mouth watered at the sight, at the fact that beyond just its size, it was pretty. You'd get your mouth on it soon, you told yourself, taste him just as he tasted you. You'd wrap your lips around his head, let him fuck your mouth the way he wanted, and taste his release with a greedy tongue. But not now.

Az maneuvered himself, a forearm near your head to hold himself as his other hand went in between you, replacing your hand with his own. You ran your freed palm along his chest, bringing it up to his shoulders.

"Are you sure?" Az asked, eyes focused on you.

You almost laughed at the question, a smile forming on your face as you nodded. "For the love of god, please," you said, and you were sure it was the hundredth time you'd muttered the word. "I want you. I-I need you."

Az’s growl reverberated through you, a primal sound you’d never heard from him before. It sent waves of need crashing over your body. Your legs instinctively locked around his back, drawing him in as his cock pressed firmly inside you, an intense surge of pleasure that made you both gasp for air. You clenched around him, welcoming him and the stretch he provided, the sensation of him as he rolled his hips, as he bottomed out with another sinful groan. Azriel kissed you again and again as he moved, as he picked up the pace and you clawed at his back— nails digging into the ink that adorned his golden skin.

His mouth explored every inch of you—your nipples, your throat, your ear—before he covered your mouth to muffle your moans once more. You dug your heels into his back, fingers tangled in his hair as he pressed you firmly into the mattress with the snap of his hips. You were lost in the rising waves of sensation—his quick, sharp thrusts, the heat and sweat of your bodies moving together.

Faintly, you heard a soft whining, a mewl of pleasure. You realized, seconds later, it had come from your own throat; desperate and babbling, repeating Az's name like a prayer. He was everything now, every thought in your mind, filling every sense, his hands, his tongue, his cock.

You were so close, on the edge of something monumental, ready to fall and fall and fall. Azriel must have seen the desperation in your eyes as he started whispering in your ear, murmuring things that you knew would later make you blush and squirm, turn red and pink and every color between.

“Holy shit, yes,” he growled, “You feel incredible, Y/n.”

You clung to him, your breath mingling with his, praying that, somehow, through this shared rhythm, you could bind him to you forever. That this moment would make him truly yours, beyond just the physical, blending every part of him with every part of you.

"Talk to me, beautiful." He nipped at your bottom lip. "Does it feel good?"

"Yes, god, yes." You moaned and pulled him closer to you. As you separated from another hungry kiss, you reveled in the way his chain dangled over your face, in the way it swung as he fucked you. It was even better than you imagined, even hotter in every way. You clenched around him, shivered at the sound he made.

He looked beautiful. Face flushed and glistening with sweat, tousled hair falling into his eyes as he gazed at you with a look of pure adoration, a look you felt too soft to be reserved for you. It was a look meant for those that did great, praise-worthy things, a look for a lover and a soulmate. You stared at him, breathing heavily, taking in all that he was, and he looked at you back, took you in just as carefully. Then he smiled, reaching up and gripping your hands in his. He pressed gentle kisses along your cheeks and entwined your fingers with his, held them above your head.

"I'm so close,” you murmured, “So close.”

Azriel's eyes darkened. He brought his bottom lip between his teeth and his cock surged into you with such force that the bed groaned beneath you. You gasped, body going slack as he drove into you with relentless speed, each thrust so intense that you were left completely immobilized. His movements grew uneven, body trembling as he strained to hold back, his fingers pressing deeply into yours.

“Azriel.” His name was all you had. “Az. Az.”

He was buried deep inside you, trembling with the force of his release. “Come on, sweetheart,” he breathed heavily. "Come with me, baby."

You clenched at the name, at the way his words caressed your skin. Azriel cried out against your shoulder, his moan wavering like he was descending from a high. You felt his entire body shudder and you pressed kisses to his ear, cheek, and neck. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, maybe a little too roughly, but he only whimpered and slumped against you, his full weight pressing you into the bed.

He took deep breaths and you laughed as he blew your hair out of his face. A few moments later you loosened your hold on him, bodies reluctantly untangled, condom disposed, and you both shifted onto your sides. You leaned in to kiss him. His response was tender and unhurried, his lips moving against yours with a reverent slowness. His hands roamed over your back, your hip, and the curve of your ass.

Long after you cleaned up, as you laid against Az's bare chest and he played with your hair, that feeling of falling was still there, something exciting and equally terrifying. It filled your stomach, flowed through your veins.

You looked at Az, took in his contented smile, his eyes closed and peaceful as he held you, and you wondered if you truly knew what love felt like, wondered when it was too soon to decide you could never let someone go.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

authors note: your honor i do believe theyre falling in love. i also, do believe, that they boutta be fuckin like rabbits

permanent tag list 🫶🏻:

@rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon

@glam-targaryen @cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen @azrielsbbg

@evergreenlark @marina468 @azriels-human @panther-girl-124 @bubybubsters

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @feyretopia @ninthcircleofprythian @velariscalling @azrielrot

@justyouraveragekleemain @marigold-morelli @mrsjna @anarchiii @alittlelostalittlefound

@melissat1254

@m4tthewmurd0ck @beardburnsupersoldiers @isnotwhatyourethinking @tothestarsandwhateverend @raginghellfire

As always, thank you for reading 🫶🏻

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steddie-island · 3 months ago

Text

Plenty Implied

Written for @steddiesongfics and @steddiebingo Song: Baby, It's Cold Outside Prompts: Under the influence (R1), winter (R1 and 12 days of Christmas) Rating: E | WC: 2,343 | Tags: Alpha Eddie Munson, Omega Steve Harrington, getting together, first kiss, snowed in For full list of tags see ao3 | Divider credit

This wasn't how Steve had expected his night to go. He'd expected the blind date his mother had set him up on to suck (it had). He'd expected there to be a kerfuffle over the bill, no matter which of them paid (his date had). He'd expected the night to end with him and Robin cuddled on the couch, eating cookies and ice cream while they talked about how bad his mother's taste in dates for him was.

The getting home part was where everything had gone wonky. Even if he hadn't locked the keys in his car, the snow had piled up so fast that he wouldn't have been able to make it out of the parking lot.

Maybe if he'd left at the same time as his date then he would've been able to get out. But he hadn't, he'd stayed behind and finished the wine he'd ordered while watching the Alpha behind the bar.

Now here he was, sitting in the corner of said Alpha's couch while Eddie puttered around the kitchen. He hadn't yet decided whether Eddie living above the restaurant was good luck or not. It would depend on if Steve's mother found out he'd started the evening with one Alpha and ended it with another.

"Marshmallows or no marshmallows?"

Eddie's voice pulled Steve back to the moment. "Marshmallows," he said, looking towards the kitchen.

When Eddie joined him again he was holding two mugs piled high with whipped cream, marshmallows, and… chocolate shavings? As if the cocoa wasn't surprising enough, it was brought out in matching Garfield mugs.

"I sort of thought you were joking about making cocoa." Steve took his mug and held it close. The warm scent of chocolate and cinnamon wrapped around him. It mixed surprisingly well with the scent of Eddie — tobacco and leather.

"Stevie. I would never joke about hot cocoa." Eddie didn't sit down beside him right away and instead crossed to a table pushed against the wall. Steve watched nimble fingers flip through the vinyls until he'd found what he wanted.

"…Really?" Steve laughed as the voice of Ella Fitzgerald filled the room. "Isn't this a little on the nose?"

"Maybe that's why I picked it." Eddie grinned as he took his seat. "Did you get ahold of your friend?" He gestured to the cordless he'd given Steve before stepping into the kitchen.

"No. She didn't answer, I figured I would try again in a few minutes." Steve flicked his tongue out to try and clear a spot for himself to drink out of through the whipped cream. Rich chocolate flavor exploded on his tongue, followed by the subtle burn of alcohol.

"I think Ella was on to something, there's definitely more than chocolate in this," he teased.

Eddie's rumbling laugh made Steve shiver. "I just figured it would help warm you up," he said. His nose wrinkled in a way that made Steve want to lean in and kiss the tip of it. "…Was that creepy? I can make you some without, I just remembered you having wine earlier, didn't think it would hurt—"

"You were watching me?" Steve asked.

"I didn't say that." Eddie arched one brow as he took a long drink. He licked the whipped cream mustache away before Steve could offer to do it. "But yeah, I was. It's always fun to be an innocent bystander for the trainwreck dates."

"Trainwreck!" Steve barked out in a laugh. "You could not tell it was a trainwreck from all the way over by the bar."

"Trust me, you work with people as long as I have, you learn to pick up on things." Eddie settled in against the couch with one arm stretched out along the back of it. "If that's what you count as a good date, I would hate to see what counts as bad."

Steve settled back, too, with his hands around his mug and his body facing Eddie's. "It wasn't the worst date I've ever had. Just… awkward."

"What is the worst date you've ever had?"

Another laugh bubbled up as Steve drained half of his mug. "It'll take more than one mug of hard cocoa to get that out of me."

"You're not serious." Eddie watched Steve with wide eyes.

"I fucking wish I was joking!"

It had taken more than one hard cocoa, but just barely. Steve had managed to get through to Robin (who, to her credit, only panicked a little at the idea of Steve being with a guy neither of them knew, and she only demanded his full name, address, a physical description, and his license plate number in case Steve didn't show up again once the weather had cleared up). Once the cocoa was gone and Robin knew Steve was somewhere safe for the night, they had switched to a bottle of bourbon Eddie had brought home from work.

There was something about Eddie that Steve found comforting in a way he hadn't found with anyone but Robin in a very long time. Maybe it was because Eddie hadn't even blinked when Robin had demanded to speak to him, too. Maybe it was because he looked tough and rugged, with his ripped jeans and his motorcycle boots and the tattoos covering his arms, but he had at least two Garfield mugs in his kitchen and he listened to Ella Fitzgerald on snowy nights.

Eddie's laugh was big and bright and Steve found that he wanted to wrap himself up in it because it warmed him even more than their drinks had. He was just warm, and Steve found himself slowly gravitating closer and closer to Eddie's end of the couch.

If Robin was here, she would be telling him that he needed to be careful. He fell too hard too fast and he always got hurt for it. This night, though, Eddie, it all felt different. This wasn't even a date, Eddie had just been nice enough to offer Steve somewhere to warm himself up for the night.

Now Steve wanted to offer Eddie somewhere warm, too.

It was a stupid line brought on by a horny thought, and Steve nearly spat out his drink.

"You good, man?" Eddie asked as he reached over to lightly clap Steve on the back. His scent was even stronger when he was this close.

"I'm good." Steve wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and cleared his throat. "Just— stupid thought. I think I need to take that as my sign to head to bed."

"Okay." Eddie tossed back the rest of his drink and started cleaning their dishes up. Steve reached out to help and Eddie stopped him with a wave of his hand. "Stay there, I've got this."

"I can help," Steve insisted. He stood up and grabbed their empty mugs. "Besides, I'm, uh… going to need some pajamas, if you have anything I can borrow?"

"Oh fuck, right!" Eddie put the bottle of bourbon back down on the coffee table and hurried down a short hallway to what Steve assumed was his bedroom.

While Eddie was gone Steve carried their dishes to the kitchen. He rinsed them out and left them to be washed in the morning. Eddie could still be heard rummaging in his room, so Steve took a moment to be a little nosy. He let his fingertip curl around the cabinet door.

Eddie didn't just have a Garfield mug. There were juice glasses with the fat orange cat on them, and were those dinner plates? Steve lifted one up carefully to get a closer look— Garfield in a night dress and cap, beside Odie in a rocking chair.

"Not what you expected, huh?"

Caught, Steve put the plate back and turned to Eddie with pink cheeks. "I was just wondering, after I saw the mugs. I would say I'm not usually that nosy, but…" He shrugged. "I would be lying."

Eddie grinned wide and Steve once more found himself watching the way the corners of his eyes crinkled.

"It's something I got into with my uncle," he explained. "We watched the cartoons together. It's something we bonded over when I moved in with him." He held something out to Steve. "I don't actually have any clean pajama pants…"

Steve unfolded the shirt. It was soft and worn, with a few tiny holes around the neck. Clearly this was a shirt that Eddie had had for a while, one he loved. And he was offering it up to Steve to use for the night.

Whatever resolve or sense of propriety Steve had left flew out the window. He'd wondered earlier what his mother would think about him having dinner with one Alpha and then going home with another one entirely.

Finding out her son not only went home with a stranger, but that he was the one who made the first move, might've sent her to an early grave.

Steve didn't let that stop him as he closed the distance between them. His hand cupped Eddie's cheek, thumb stroking his jaw, and then their lips were pressed together.

Eddie's lips were soft and warm. He tasted like chocolate and alcohol and Steve would never get enough.

"Look, I know it might be forward," he murmured. "But you smell so good, and you're so nice, and I would kick myself if I didn't shoot my shot."

Warm air brushed Steve's mouth as Eddie laughed again. Steve was becoming addicted to that, too.

"I got you tipsy and didn't give you pants to sleep in, and you think you're being forward?"

"Giving me pants would've just made it that much harder for you to get into them, wouldn't it?"

Eddie actually groaned, but then his mouth was on Steve's again and Steve's back was pressed against the lip of the counter. "Fuck, that was cheesy."

"Says the man with the Garfield collec— hey!" Steve yelped as he was lifted up onto the counter. Eddie was slim, lean, but there was a strength in his arms that was surprising.

Eddie's lips trailed over his jaw and up towards his ear. "Don't pretend the Garfield collection isn't what won you over."

"Was I that transparent?" Steve murmured. His legs came up to wrap around Eddie's waist, his arms draped around those wide shoulders.

"'Fraid so." Eddie pressed a kiss to the moles on the underside of Steve's jaw. "You know… if seeing my dinnerware made you want to jump into bed with me, I can't wait until you see my pajamas."

Steve threaded a hand into Eddie's soft hair and stole another kiss that was almost teasing. "Oh, baby. I don't think either of us could handle that."

Neither of them stopped smiling as Eddie lifted him off of the counter, as they bumped their way down the hallway.

Steve was far from a blushing virgin, had been around the block more than few times. None of his partners had been like Eddie, though.

Eddie's mouth left a trail of fire as he played connect the dots with Steve's moles. His fingers stoked Steve's pleasure higher and higher, until his thighs shook and there was a patch of slick on the bed beneath them, until he'd fallen apart not once but twice.

Eddie was right there after, too, kissing Steve's shattered edges and melting them until they were fitted together and he was whole again.

When Eddie finally settled over him, when they were finally joined as one, it was with their hands threaded together on either side of Steve's head.

It wasn't rushed. It was slow and languid, with kisses to eyelids and cheeks and chins, with Eddie sucking marks into Steve's skin and Steve urging Eddie on with his heels.

They came together with a cry from Steve and Eddie panting Steve's name into the hollow of his throat.

Afterward there was an ease with Eddie that Steve hadn't gotten from other partners. There was no hasty cleanup, no scrambling for clothes. Eddie just rolled them away from the wet spot. He kissed Steve gently, then slipped out of bed to get a wet washcloth to wipe them both off.

Steve slipped into the shirt Eddie had brought to him. It was even softer when it was on. Eddie's scent was there beneath the laundry detergent scent, too.

Eddie wrapped around him when he got back into bed. He tucked the blankets around them and buried his face in Steve's neck in a way that showed Steve wasn't the only one feeling a little scent addicted.

Sleep was just taking over when Eddie's voice roused him again.

"You think roses would be appropriate?"

"Hmm?" Steve cracked one eye open. "For what?"

"Feel like I owe your date a thank you after this."

Steve lightly smacked Eddie's hip. "You don't think there's someone else you should be thanking?"

"Oh, right." Eddie nuzzled down against the top of Steve's head and held him that much tighter. "I'll have to get some for your mom, too."

"Eddie!" Steve dissolved into sleepy giggles that he tried to stifle against Eddie's shoulder. "That's still not who I was talking about!"

"I know." Eddie pressed a kiss to the corner of Steve's mouth and gathered him impossibly closer. "Thought you might like breakfast more than flowers. Figured I would save flowers for our first date."

"This wasn't a date?" Steve asked. "What would you call it?"

Eddie took so long to answer that Steve was almost sure he'd fallen asleep, too. "Our meet cute. But we should probably leave out the sex when we tell our future grandpups."

Steve couldn't stop the purr that started in his chest.

Even if there was talk tomorrow about what he'd done, and if it made its way back to his parents, he'd met the Alpha of his dreams, someone who collected Garfield memorbilia and talked about pups before they'd even technically been on a date.

They fell asleep wrapped up together, with Steve's purr still rumbling on and the snow falling down around them.

#steddiesongfics #steddiebingo2025 #steddiebingo12daysofchristmas #Steddie #Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson #Omegaverse #kintsugi_kid ao3

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mildmayfoxe · 4 months ago

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the best thing about this sandwich place apart from the fuckin sandwiches is it’s also a fancy quirky little gift store & they have weird little snacks so i go in there and get a sandwich and a fuckin expensive bag of artisan chips and a soda i’ve never had before and a weird little candy bar. so even though it’s expensive it feels very fancy and novel and it’s a nice little whole meal treat. PLUS they also have soft serve

left work early to get a fucking SANDWICH bro. it’s the freakin weekend

#and the soft serve changes every month & they do the flavors so it’s always fun stuff. this month it’s hot cocoa & marshmallow #so imagine that SWIRL bro. and they do monthly sandwiches specials too so considering i only manage to get there every couple i get to try #lots of kinds. even though their regular italian sub is banger. they have great bread #chatpost

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muwapsturniolo · 19 days ago

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Sweet tooth 🍬 C. Sturniolo

"You're right, I do have a sugar problem, and it starts with you."

⟢ nothing but fluff tbh (tiny bit of angst? i think?) !!! kissing and spanking but nothing inherently sexual!!

@bernardsbendystraws for dividers

"How the hell do we make these?"

It was currently 11 PM, and the couple was in the kitchen, getting ready to make a sweet treat - rice krispies to be exact. He watches as the girl moves around the kitchen, her mind set on making the rice krispies.

"Bun come on, I can just doordash you-" He stops talking when she slams the box of fruity pebbles on the counter, a frown on her face. She crosses her arms and stomps her foot, a clear signal that showed she was frustrated.

Chris was all too familiar with this habit of hers, so familiar that he quickly tried to diffuse the situation before she blew up.

"Bun-"

"No! I don't want them door dashed, I want to make them!"

Bun-"

"If you don't want to spend time with me then don't! Just say that you don't want to spend time with me!'

He sighs and pushes himself off the counter, lazily strolling towards her and pulling her closer. " Hey hey hey, calm down yeah? I was kidding, you know I love to spend time with you, don't get mad at me." His thumbs rub soft circles against her hips, attempting to soothe her.

"Well, it doesn't feel like it sometimes...I ask to do something with you and it seems like you complain the whole time, like you'd rather be doing something else. It's frustrating and it hurts my feelings."

He watches the way she looks everywhere but at him, another habit of hers that he's too familiar with. She only tended to do that during a confrontation, the idea of looking at the person she's confronting being too much to handle.

He listens to her concerns, processing her words and where she's coming from before responding.

"And I'm sorry for making you feel that way or making you think like that. Like I said, you know I love spending time with you, I wouldn't trade it for anything. It's clear we have different ideas of spending time with each other, and I haven't been as open to your form of it as I should be. That's not fair to you and I'm seeing that now. So, if you want to make your rice krispies, I'll help."

Her eyes finally find his, her arms uncrossing as she holds his biceps. "You will?" She questions softly, her whole body relaxing. Chris nods, trailing one hand up to her cheeks and caressing her face.

"No complaining?"

"No complaining." He confirms, a smile breaking out on his face as her own smile forms. She stands on her toes, pecking his lips quickly.

"I love you."

"I love you too Bun. Now, let's make these Rice Krispies."

The couple resumed their activities in the kitchen, melting the butter and browning it, pouring the French vanilla-flavored marshmallows into the pot and melting them, before pouring the fruity pebbles in.

"These smell good as fuck," he murmurs to himself as he watches her scoop the sticky mixture into the dish, patting it down with the spatula so it's flat.

" I wish I had white chocolate to drizzle on top, that would make them taste so much better." Chris eyes her as she pops a marshmallow into her mouth, her tenth marshmallow to be exact.

He chuckles and shakes his head, use to her addiction to sweets.

"You have a really bad sweet tooth, you know that?"

"I know Mr, "Oh I need to have about 5 Pepsi's a day" isn't commenting on sugar intake." She looks back at him as she fills the pot with water to soak. He shrugs and pulls her closer, the girl quickly shutting the water off in the process.

He gives her a firm kiss, humming at the sweet sugary flavor left over on her lips from the multiple marshmallows.

"You're right, I do have a sugar problem, and it starts with you."

She squeals and giggles as he lands a firm slap on her ass, the girl quickly moving away and going to put the rice krispies in the fridge.

"What if I started calling you sugar tits?"

"Chris!"

"Alright alright, sugar tits is out the window."

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo au #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fluff #sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x you #chris girl #peaches bunny au ft doll #doll n’ bunny mb #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fluff #peaches bunny🍑

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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 27 days ago

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Baby Preparations

Sam and Dean & pregnant little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: you’re pregnant, that’s literally it, that’s the plot

Warnings: short and sweet, pregnancy and tooth-rotting fluff

“Sam!”

Your voice calling out Sam’s name had him doing a 180, heading back from the direction he’d came to find you. You were sitting on the floor of the War Room, and instead of the usual newspaper clippings and lore books, there were dozens of paint sample cards.

“You need something?” He asked.

You held out your hands to him, as if you were 6 years old again and asking to be carried.

“I can’t stand up,” you huffed. At Sam’s light snicker, you scowled. “It’s not funny! I can’t move!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” But Sam couldn’t keep the grin off his face as he helped you to your feet. “How’s my nephew doing?”

“He kicks like he’s a dang Winchester,” you grumbled, rubbing your stomach. “And every time he moves I have to pee, and he—“

“Ok, ok.” Sam stopped you, holding up his hands in surrender. “I get the picture, and I really don’t need to know more.”

“Coward,” you scoffed.

“Hey, when it comes to my baby sister’s pregnancy, you bet I am,” Sam admitted.

“Has anyone seen my pie?” Dean’s question could be heard before he even entered the room, a quizzical and grumpy expression on his face.

“The baby wanted it,” you answered, drawing an eye-roll and a huff from your oldest brother.

“Is that always gonna be your answer?” He demanded.

“Not always,” you admitted. “Just maybe another two months until this guy is eating his own food, not mine.”

Dean face twisted, but he didn’t argue—he never did anymore, and you took full advantage of it. Sam saw right through how you were playing Dean like a kazoo, but he didn’t comment on it; it was too much fun to watch.

“Fine,” Dean grumbled. “I’m gonna go on a run.”

Without a word, you pulled a piece of paper from your pocket and handed it to Dean.

“Again?” He demanded. “It better not be full of weird snacks again.”

“Last time wasn’t that weird,” you insisted.

“I’ve never bought so many pickles or marshmallows in my life,” Dean scoffed.

“It’s marshmallow fluff, not marshmallows,” you corrected.

“Remind me why I’m doing this again?” Dean asked.

“Because my stomach doesn’t fit behind the steering wheel anymore.” You grinned. “And you never let me drive Baby anyway, so you get to make the runs.”

“Fine,” Dean caved. “But if I see orange-flavored beef jerky on here again, I’m throwing the list away.”

…

“Hey Sam?”

Sam glanced up from his lore book to see you still staring at your paint samples.

“Yeah?” He asked.

“I can’t pick a color. Can you help?”

Sam shrugged, ditching his book and coming to your side.

“You really can’t pick?”

“I just…” you huffed. “I want it to be perfect.”

“I don’t really think the baby’s gonna care,” Sam argued.

You were quiet for a long moment, and Sam watched as you started to pick at your hands.

“Hey.” Sam’s hand over yours stilled you. “What’s got you all worked up?”

“I mean…we-we never got anything like this. You know, the rooms and—and a house. But Charlie will…and I want it to be perfect.”

Sam smiled—he loved hearing his nephew’s name, the one you’d chosen to honor your best friend—and rested his hands on your shoulder.

“Charlie doesn’t need the perfect room paint to have a happy childhood. He already has so much more than we had—he has a home, and he has a wonderful mother. He’s gonna grow up so happy—it’s not gonna be like how it was with us.”

“Ok.” You took a deep breath. “Ok, thanks Sam.”

“Any time. And you should totally choose the green.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz @johannelis2302nely @studiogrimm810 @tell-elle

#the winchesters #dean and sam #dean winchester #supernatural dean #sam winchester #winchesters x sister #dean winchester x reader #winchesters x reader #dean winchester x you #sam winchester x reader #sam and dean #sam winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester x you #dean winchester x little sister #dean winchester x sister #dean winchester x sister!reader

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lilmissnatcat24 · 1 year ago

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for no other reason than i worked at an ice cream shop for eight years, here's what ice cream the mass effect characters would eat

shepard: neapolitan, strawberry for their paragon side, chocolate for their renegade, vanilla to balance

garrus: moose tracks, but will pick it apart just for the peanut butter cups and give shepard the leftovers

tali: literally any booze flavored ice cream

liara: mint chocolate chip because she secretly kind've fucks with the taste of toothpaste but will never admit it out loud

kaidan: butter pecan. it's not everyone's favorite, but it's his, and he's totally cool with it

ashley: whatever the 2183 equivalent to the tonight dough. cookie dough chunks, brownie chunks, butterscotch, chocolate chips, malt chunks, everything

wrex: this man is old as balls!!!!!! rum raisin!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

joker: lemon sherbet. you cannot tell me that man is not lactose intolerant

miranda: cherries garcia, little bit sweet, little bit tart

jack: the most sickening sweet shit you can think of. cotton candy with marshmallow superman with a side of sugar

jacob: some sort of dark chocolate peanut butter ice cream that sounds good in theory but in reality you can only take like 3 bites of before you get a tummy ache

zaeed: banana splits that he likes to mash together with a spoon and eat like some deconstructed milkshake

kasumi: the weird avant gard shit you see in hipster vegan shops, like some bacon sweet potato rosebud ice cream

mordin: coffee ice cream, because he likes the taste of coffee but if he were to actually drink it he would spontaneously combust

grunt: those froyo shops that were everywhere in 2014 where you could make a bowl with like 5% froyo and 95% other toppings and it cost 14 dollars

thane: doesn't like ice cream because it reminds him of how he abandoned his child and how his wife is dead and he could never go back to the life he left behind, the life of stability, because his body is engineered for a deadly purpose and he can never atone for his sins rocky road

samara: this woman is old as balls!!!!!!!!!!!!! pistachio!!!!!!!!!!!

legion: tried vanilla ice cream. too sticky, got stuck in his wiring.

james: one of those brownie sundaes that weighs approximately 5 pounds and is majority whipped cream

steve: chocolate chip. classy, just like him ;)

traynor: something smooth and rich and velvety and inexplicably sexy, like raspberry chocolate chunk

edi: takes the idea of ice cream a little too literally and just has a bowl of heavy cream with ice cubes. is confused why everyone is disgusted.

javik: ice cream is for primitives (peaches and cream)

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cookieclickercookieeater · 1 year ago

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Pinwheel cookies are up today. I opted to make these myself, since purchasable pinwheel cookies seem to be the marshmallow variety. I followed this recipe to make them:

I think I did pretty well here. These came out soft and slightly dry. The flavor is fairly plain, with a faint bit of chocolate. Not too exciting of a flavor, but the appearance of these cookies is quite fun.

4/5

#cookie clicker #pinwheel cookies #standard cookie upgrades

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merrilark · 1 year ago

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They should invent coffee that tastes like campfire-toasted marshmallows.

#specifically slightly blackened ones #marshmallows are too sweet for me but i'll endure it for that sugary charcoal flavor LOL

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lilyprettyremy · 4 months ago

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How to Thrive This Winter❄️✨

Brrr, baby, it’s cold outside! But don’t worry—cold weather doesn’t have to mean boring layers and dry skin. It’s time to cozy up, glow up, and own the winter like the stylish snow angel you are. Let’s dive into some fabulously fun and ultra-practical tips for thriving when it’s freezing!

1. Layers, but Make It Fashion!

Think of layering as your chance to create a Pinterest-worthy winter look. Start with thermal basics (cute ones, obviously), add a soft knit sweater, and top it off with a statement coat. Don’t be afraid to mix textures—wool, velvet, and fleece are winter’s dream team.

Style Hack: Belt your oversized coat for a snatched look and pair it with earmuffs for retro-cute vibes!

2. Keep Those Tootsies Toasty

Cold feet? Ew, no. Treat your toes to fleece-lined socks or those fluffy slipper socks that feel like heaven. Bonus points if they’re pastel pink or covered in sparkles. Waterproof boots are a must, but why not go for ones with faux fur trim? Practical AND adorable.

Pro Tip: Grab mini hand warmers for your boots on extra chilly days—they’re a lifesaver!

3. Moisturize, Hydrate, Repeat

Winter is out here trying to steal your glow, but we’re not letting it win. Upgrade to a thicker moisturizer and keep lip balm on hand (hello, peppermint-flavored kisses). Hydrate from the inside too—water, herbal teas, and broths will keep your skin dewy and fresh.

Cutie Tip: Carry a mini face mist in your bag for a quick hydration boost that also smells divine.

4. Hot Drinks = Warm Soul

Coffee, hot cocoa, chai lattes—whatever warms your heart, make it cute! Add marshmallows, whipped cream, or even a cinnamon stick for that extra flair. And don’t forget a mug that matches your vibe—sparkly, pastel, or maybe even a personalized one?

Pro Idea: Try a "hot chocolate bar" night with friends. Think toppings galore and the coziest vibes ever.

5. Cozy Up Your Space

Your home is your winter wonderland. Think fairy lights, chunky blankets, and candles that smell like sugar cookies or pine forests. There’s no such thing as too cozy in the winter!

Mood Boost: String some faux ivy or flowers around your mirror for a dreamy winter garden vibe.

6. Winter Proof Your Hair

Cold air can be harsh on your locks, so show them some extra love. Use a leave-in conditioner and silk scrunchies to keep frizz at bay. Also, hats are a must—but make it chic with a beret or pom-pom beanie!

Hair Flair: Add a touch of glitter spray to your hair for winter nights out—because you deserve to sparkle.

7. Move Your Booty (Even When It’s Cold)

Winter is prime snuggle season, but don’t forget to move! Indoor yoga, dance sessions to your fave playlist, or even a brisk walk in the snow will warm you up and lift your mood.

Motivation Tip: Treat yourself to cute workout gear that doubles as loungewear—because who says comfy can’t be stylish?

8. Channel Your Inner Snow Queen

Winter is all about finding magic in the small things. Go ice skating, snap aesthetic snow pics, or cozy up with a rom-com marathon. Romanticize your life, babe—you’re the main character!

Vibes: Picture yourself twirling in the snow with a fluffy scarf, latte in hand. Dreamy, right?

Winter isn’t just a season—it’s your chance to shine in layers, cozy corners, and all the warm drinks your heart desires. So grab your fuzzy socks, fluffiest blanket, and make this cold weather your most stylish and comfy era yet!

What’s your go-to winter survival tip? Share it below, and let’s spread the cozy vibes!

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zorrasucia · 6 months ago

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13. Hot Cocoa + Baking

from @carmenberzattosgf list

Reader x Carmy Berzatto (The Bear FX)

Rating: Mature (2.3k)

Tags: Chocolat (2000) AU, Friends to Rivals to Lovers, Food, Curvy Reader, Fluff, Sexual Tension, Smut, Dry Humping, Dirty Talk, Both Carmy and Reader have a bit of a praise kink

Maybe it was corny and provincial, but you always welcomed your neighbors with a batch of cookies. It was good for business most of the time too - the insurance people next door bought pastries every other day for their breakfast after you gifted them some for their opening.

So, there you were, close to the counter of the new specialty chocolaterie, box of cookies in hand, captivated by the smell of chocolate... There was so much more though: caramel, vanilla, almonds, coffee, cardamom, berries, and was that pepper...?

"Welcome to The Bear, what can I do for you?" a tall man greeted you.

"Oh, hi!" you smiled politely. "I'm from the bakery down the street. Wanted to say hello and give you a little welcome present."

You handed him the box, delicate calligraphy marking the name of your shop.

The man beamed. "That's so sweet! Pun not intended," he chuckled to himself. "Now we definitely have to give you something on the house!"

You looked at his name tag. "Richie, that's not necessary at all..."

"Nonsense. Plus, you get to see the magic happen. Cousin!" he bellowed to the back, where you assumed the kitchen was.

"Magic?" you frowned.

A blond guy with blue eyes emerged from the door and gave you a polite nod.

"What is it?" he asked Richie, he seemed irritated.

"Cookies from our neighbor, cuz," Richie offered him the open box, he was already biting into his second one. "Say thanks and do your mind-reader thing."

"It's not... Never mind," he mumbled in exasperation, rolling his eyes. "Carmy Berzatto," he said and offered you his hand to shake. "Thank you for the cookies."

"You're welcome," you smiled at the sight of him eating with gusto.

"Is that piloncillo sugar?" he asked after a moment of savoring.

"Yes!" you beamed.

"Tremendous," he said earnestly, wiping his hands on a dish towel. He walked closer to the counter and stared at you, intensely, for half a minute. "Mocha frappe, double espresso shot, whipped cream and chocolate shavings on top. That's your favorite."

You stared right back, mouth agape. That was your comfort drink, no matter the weather. How did he know?

"Do we still have the nice Mexican coffee? She'll appreciate it," he asked Richie.

"Yeah, third shelf. Neat trick, huh?" Richie grinned, enjoying the shocked look on your face as Carmy went to the back.

"How does he-?"

"Fucked if I know," he shrugged. "He says it's a family thing. He never misses."

"Did he guess your favorite too?" you asked, fascinated.

"Yeah," he chuckled. "It's hot cocoa with marshmallows. He says I have the palate of a six year old but if it ain't broke..."

While Carmy prepared your drink, you looked around the shop. There were beautiful confections with crazy flavors, covered in gold leaf, almost too beautiful to eat. But there were also dollops of milk chocolate with puffed rice, humble looking and ready for a kid to devour. Truly something for everyone.

When he handed you your coffee you asked: "What's your favorite?"

Carmy gave you a tense smile. "Hope you like it. Pleasure to meet you," he said and left.

"He says it's a secret," Richie handed you a napkin, then he added in a whisper: "I don't think he has one. He doesn't enjoy things that way."

"What way?"

"Uh, the normal way, I guess," Richie shrugged. "He barely eats the things he makes. Lives like a monk. It feels like he has to make chocolate 24/7 or some family curse is going to get him. Dunno if I'm making sense."

"Kind of," you said.

You took a sip of your drink and knew you were fucked forever. No chain coffeehouse would be able to compete with this.

It had been a couple of months since The Bear opened. They had a few loyal customers plus whatever weirdos wanted to see if Carmy was as spot on with his predictions as online reviews said he was - he never missed.

You had become friendly with the staff and had developed a routine of sorts with Carmy.

It probably wasn't healthy but you saw him as a mystery to solve. You didn't know about chocolate, not the way he did, but you knew baking, you understood how comfort and love could be encapsulated in a dessert. So you tried to find his favorite, the thing that would make his heart sing like he could do to you and every other person that walked into his chocolaterie. If nothing else, you got constructive criticism from a kindred spirit on a weekly basis.

Could use less cinnamon.

Maybe with brown sugar instead?

Oh, that's good.

What about blackberry jam?

Delicious... but not my favorite.

"Anyone told you you're a buzzkill?" you said with a dejected sigh.

"Many people. Often," he replied dryly.

"Richie doesn't count."

"Point still stands," he said, wiping crumbs from the flaky pastry you had brought. "People think I'm supposed to be having fun in there for the chocolate to be good when it's probably the opposite."

"It doesn't have to be like that, Carm," you said, exasperated. "You don't have to be fucking miserable for this to work."

He took a deep breath. You had never spelled it out so clearly and it clearly struck a nerve.

"I appreciate you," he said. "I do. But I'm fucked up. And you can't fix me with pies and cakes and-" he looked at the ceiling. "You're an incredible pastry chef. And you're so fucking nice but, uh, I think we should stop this."

"This?"

"You coming here and asking for feedback on your already perfect baked goods. I don't know what you're expecting from me but you look at me with those Bambi eyes and I always disappoint you," he ran a hand through his hair. "It fucks me up."

"Right." You picked up your stuff as quickly as you could, feeling heartbroken and humiliated. You knew you probably came off as needy but you hadn't realized just how much. You felt tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. "Sorry to bother you. Won't happen again."

And you left.

Weeks passed, weeks that you devoted to yourself, to feeling better, dressing pretty, baking delicious treats for happy customers, standing in front of the mirror to say nice things about your curvy body.

You had tried and failed to make Carmy see how much better his life could be if he let himself enjoy things, actually savor his chocolate instead of finding four things that were wrong with it upon his first bite. Only now you realized how similar you two were, both wanting to fix things that were probably best left alone. Carmy wasn't a recipe you could perfect and he wasn't your anything really to worry about.

It wasn't lost on you, the metaphor for everything you had been doing - his lithe body and your slightly overweight one, and how much you wanted his toned biceps on either side of your head as he panted above you, letting himself lose control for once. As you indulged in these fantasies, your fingers deep inside your pussy, you wondered whether he ever desired stuff that way. You pictured him, eyes rolled back in bliss, while he held you, and you came with a cry.

You were closing up for the night, cold wind ruffling your hair and your skirt.

"Hey."

You turned to see Carmy, blue apron underneath his wool coat.

"Hey," you said curtly, avoiding his glance.

"I, uh, I've been wanting to talk to you..." he said.

"Okay? Can you make it quick? I have to get up at four in the morning," the prickly part of you woke up at the sight of him.

"Listen, you don't need to do it if you don't want to but-" he handed you a paper bag with The Bear's logo on it. "I was wondering if you could make pain au chocolat with this?"

You received the bag cautiously. "How many?"

"I only need two," he mumbled and you scoffed. He knew - he fucking knew how hard it was to make the dough and that you couldn't just make two. "You can keep the rest of the chocolate," he offered.

"I'm still gonna charge you full price," you warned him.

"Of course."

You eyed him suspiciously, his bright eyes and open hands, his overall apologetic manner...

"Fine. I'll come by tomorrow after I close."

Maybe it was pride but you didn't try the pain au chocolat with Carmy's chocolate. Not one bite out of the entire batch you had baked. It would, of course, be excellent and you didn't want to give him that satisfaction.

"Here you go," you handed him the box, all pretty with a ribbon and a blank card ready to be gifted.

"Thank you," he gave you a shy smile. "Wanna sit down? I'll make you hot chocolate."

His shop was empty - only half the lights were on, and the sign at the door read 'Closed'.

"Come on," he insisted, his blue eyes pleading and you sighed in defeat, sitting by the counter next to him.

He served two cups of hot chocolate and plated the pastries, one for you and one for him.

"What are you-?" you started.

"When we first met, you asked me about my favorite," he explained. "Then you started bringing cookies and pie and muffins and it was so nice. I'm not used to nice things. And you were getting close. So I pushed you away and I Iashed out. I was an asshole."

"Yes, you were," you took a sip of your chocolate. He would be so much easier to hate if the things he made weren't so tasty.

"I'm not asking to go back to the way things were if you don't want that. I just hated how things ended," he nudged the plate towards you. "This is my favorite."

The pastry you had baked with the chocolate he had made.

"You haven't even tried it," you challenged him.

He took a bite and chewed slowly, savoring, a moan stuck in the back of his throat. You squeezed your thighs at the low, delicious sound.

"Fuck. That's perfect," he declared. Your heart beat faster. "Try it."

You took a bite. It was cozy and delicate, the rich chocolate caressing your tongue.

You nodded. "What a way to put my chocolate supplier to shame."

Carmy smiled, taking another big bite. "I'll give it to you for free if you keep making these."

You blushed at the double meaning and turned away.

"Fuck, that sounded awful. Sorry," Carmy said after a beat.

"It's okay," you laughed. You turned to face him, he had a giddy smile on his face that made him look younger and prettier.

"You have a-" he pointed at your lip but then he reached over and rubbed at your lower lip, wiping some leftover chocolate. He brought that same finger up to his mouth and sucked it clean. Your stomach dropped and you could feel yourself getting wet.

Carmy stood up, you could see his pupils dilate the closer he got, see his eyes linger on the low cut of your shirt.

"I thought that if I stopped seeing you, I would be able to focus," he whispered, his breath tickling your face. "I have never been so fucking distracted. Just thinking..." he kissed the side of your face, open mouthed and hungry. "Kept thinking of things I'd say to you, recipes I could share and shit like that," he mumbled, his hands ghosting over your thighs, playing with the hem of your skirt. "Thinking about your hands, kneading, working, and how they'd feel," following his lead you placed your hands over his chest, caressing his sides. He groaned. "Thinking about your body. Every part of it..."

"Touch me," you practically begged, moaning in satisfaction when he squeezed your breasts over your clothes.

"Imagining how sweet you'd taste," he panted against your lips, letting you close the small distance left, tasting his own chocolate in your mouth as he devoured you. You pulled on his hair, desperate to return every bit of passion he was giving you.

"Carmy," you gasped and brought him closer, opening your legs and scooting to the edge of your seat. His hard cock rubbed against your center, his hands were everywhere.

"So soft," he said, kissing down your neck to your chest. He palmed your breast with one hand and squeezed your hip with the other, guiding you to grind against his erection.

"Fuck," you cursed. "Like that."

You tugged on his hair, getting a low groan in response. You took the opportunity to shove your tongue inside his mouth and kiss him with all the hunger you had for him. He bit your lower lip and you moaned.

"You even sound sweet," he said absently, a desperate rhythm building between you.

"I thought of you too," you said, looking into his blue eyes, squeezing his ass to bring him closer. "Thought how'd beautiful you'd look when you came - all sweaty, your eyes on me."

"Fuck," he growled, his thrusts becoming frantic. "Can't wait to take you home. Fuck you properly. Fucking taste you..."

You could feel fireworks inside you, your pussy clenching around nothing, grinding desperately against Carmy, biting on his bicep to muffle a cry of ecstasy.

"Oh, my God," you gasped for breath as he chased his release, you grew pliant in his embrace, carding your fingers through his hair, legs shaking around his waist, your underwear soaked.

"Fuck," he froze and exhaled hard, his nose tickling your neck. "If you feel this good with your clothes on..."

You giggled. "Come on," you kissed his temple. "Let's close up shop."

#chocolat (2000) is such a banger of a movie - the catholic guilt of it all... AND juliette binoche? possible bisexual awakening...#ANYWAY this is probably the most ME thing i've written on here - i know the header of the blog says self indulgence but this is FOR me #hope you guys enjoy it nevertheless 💜😌#bearblrpromptober #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto x you #carmy x you #carmy berzatto smut #carmy berzatto fanfiction

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