#but i felt like it was good enough to deserve more than what it got

[salem-witch-slut]

Prostitution (18+)

Sevika x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Of all the girls in the brothel, and she picked you.

WARNINGS: Brothel work (prostitute!reader), dom!Sevika, sub!reader, hair pulling, leather lingerie, grinding, fingering, strap-on use (r!receiving), Daddy Sevika, biting (briefly)

WORD COUNT: 2.1K

A/N: In honor of Arcane Season 2 coming out today, thought I would bring back one of my best kinktober prompts with everybody's favorite muscle mommy. Briefly considered making a part 2 for this but lemme know what you guys think?

dividers made by @cafekitsune

Why did you think this was a good idea?

Well, truth be told, you didn’t think this was a good idea… But it was the only idea you had left. Your family was dead, like everyone was in the Undercity. Your partner got herself killed from a shimmer overdose, and you were facing being homeless. Your entire world was turned upside down and it was all fucked to no end. But now you had to pick up the pieces.

You were hired at the brothel. What the actual fuck were you thinking? Well, you knew Babette, and she was willing to give you a chance. It was decent money, and you were given free food during every shift. How could you turn it down?

It was your first week and you have already been through hell. The women who came to the brothel tended to be high on shimmer and sloppy at best, but the men; they were aggressive, vicious, and you found yourself leaving with aches and pains every single night.

And yet, when you entered the room that you were assigned to today, you were surprised to say the least. The outfit on the bench was… strange. Normally, the clientele wanted something revealing, lace, and soft bright colors. No, you were given something black, made of leather, and matching black heels to complete the look.

“Don’t question it,” You told yourself. “Just put it on.”

You slowly stripped off all your clothes and pulled on the leather bustier and black lace panties. Your fingers twitched slightly as you strapped the heels to your feet and ran your fingers through your hair… Your lipstick was a deep maroon color, and you had dark, dramatic eyeliner. Seems like you thought it all out already?

Who was your client today? Why were you so nervous? What if it was a man that was three times your size? What if it was more than one man? What if you got hurt today?

“Did you hear about who she picked today?” A shiver raced down your spine as you approached the curtains in front of your door, biting down on your painted lip. Who were they talking about?

“Oh, I heard. Cute little new girl is about to get ruined today, huh?” You… they were talking about you! But who else? Who was she?

You’ll get your answer soon enough.

It felt like forever until you heard heavy footfalls in the hallways. Whispers carried in the corridors, along with the aggressive clicks of heels from your fellow ‘coworkers’ running away from whoever was making their presence known inside of the building. Your fingers trembled as you dared a peek out from behind your curtain.

Not even a second later, the curtain was being pulled back and in walked your client… Tall, muscular, handsome, and absolutely terrifying.

The brothel’s most regular visitor. Silco’s right hand… the person that everyone in the underground fears.

Sevika.

You nearly fell down the stairs, heels slipping on the concrete flooring as you tried to back away and give her the space she deserved. But it seemed she had other ideas.

Before your body could come in contact with the ground, the woman reached out and grabbed both of your hips with her hands. Her right hand was warm and calloused, a pulse beneath her flesh, but her left hand? Cold, sharp, and thrumming with the energy of her mechanical arm hidden beneath that cloak she always wears.

“Easy, doll,” Her voice is deep, husky almost as she steps forward and lowers you down to the stable surface behind you. Shivers raced down your back, and you couldn’t stop yourself from trembling in her grasp. For a moment, neither of you said anything. But then her eyes raked all over your body and she breathed, hard. “Damn, look at you… Pretty little thing all dressed up just for me?”

Were you supposed to speak? You have heard so many stories about Sevika… how aggressive and cruel she is out there on the streets, and how she kills without mercy or a care in the world. You were scared of her, to say the least… And Sevika could see it in your eyes. She knew what her reputation was and was more than happy to push the agenda.

“Scared of me?”

You inhaled sharply, your hands slowly sliding from your sides to hold onto her forearms. The whirring of the mechanics of her arm made your thighs tremble. “N-No, miss…”

“Funny,” Sevika reached down and gently ran her rough fingertips along the edge of your jaw before she slid her hand in your hair. “Only dumb girls feel no fear… Now, you aren’t dumb, are you sweet thing?”

 You breathed slowly for a second, fearing you said something wrong to her. She looked amused, but looks could be deceiving… The gap between her two front teeth was cute. You focused on the crease of her jawline, the scars on her face, and the way her brows were pulled down.

She was so fucking hot that you forgot why you were afraid… and then, she grabbed at your hair, making you yelp and submit. Your hands had slid far too high up, and she was punishing you… Fuck, she was punishing you! “Better watch it. I’m paying to touch you, not the other way around.”

“But—” You hiccupped, looking into her eyes for the briefest second. She waited for your words to continue. “S-sorry…”

“Oh, she has manners?” Sevika showed off the smile that made your stomach flutter for a brief moment and reached down with both hands, gripping your thighs and lifting you off the floor like you weighed almost nothing to her. Out of instinct, your hands reached up and grabbed onto her shoulders for stability. “We’re going to have fun.”

Before you could utter another sound, you felt something press against you… something solid, and stiff. Something that felt like it was alive, right against the wet spot on your panties. A low moan left your throat, and you just immediately knew what it was.

“Take it off, doll,” Sevika breathed against your neck. “You know you want to.”

Fingers trembled as you reached for the cloak on her shoulders and slowly pulled it over her head. The brown fabric dropped to the floor behind her, and you looked down, confirming your suspicion. Sevika was strapped under her pants… the bulge was now way more obvious without the cloak.

“Feel that?” Sevika pressed her flesh hand to your rear and stepped forward, spinning you around and sitting herself down on the couch behind you. The second you were in her lap, she was pushing you down onto her hips and grinding the bulge against your cunt like it was her damn birthright to do so.

Your pulse quickened with every passing second, and you dropped your face down against her chest, breathing in the scent of tobacco and her natural scent… Strong, earthy, like a roaring wood fire. You didn’t know what came over you, but before you could scold yourself for knowing better, your tongue came in contact with her bear neck and your lips trailed all over her exposed skin.

Sevika tensed up and her fingers went from holding your hips to sliding under the fabric of your panties, grabbing at your flesh and making you instinctively bite down on her shoulder. Nowhere near enough to hurt, but enough for her to feel it. Sevika looked like she was about to start climbing the walls as she felt your hips roll forward on top of her.

With a simple flick of her metallic fingers, the underwear given to you was ripped off your body and you barely had time to recover before Sevika was lifting you off her lap and reaching to pull the zipper of her pants down. A sigh left your throat, and you could only push your face into her neck; Sevika didn’t like that.

“Nuh-uh,” She grabbed your chin with her flesh hand, pulling you back to look down into her eyes. Her grey irises were staring directly passed your fears and into your soul. It was like she was lighting you on fire from the inside out. “You look at me. Prettiest fucking girl is going to look at me when I fuck her.”

Her words made you blush from the tips of your ears down to your neck and you almost forgot that this was your job… It was easy to think that Sevika had just picked you out of everyone in the underground to have a night with. Not… that she was paying for it.

“Don’t worry,” Sevika smirked, that crease in her brow becoming more prominent as you felt her hand leave your face and slide down between your legs. When you felt her calloused fingers against your soft wet folds, you forgot how to breathe. “Daddy’s gonna take good care of you.”

The sound you made was beyond pornographic. Two of her fingers slipped inside of your wetness without any kind of resistance. Your entire body went rigid, and your eyes fluttered for a brief second before you forced yourself to look at her. Sevika smirked and basked in your expressions, slowly pushing you up and down on her digits.

What did you even say? What were you supposed to do? Sevika isn’t like your other clients… She’s so intense, even when she’s barely touching you. It feels like you are drowning, even if it’s just her presence surrounding you. Your inner walls squeeze at her fingers as she curls them at just the right angle. Sevika smirked.

“Oh, you like that?” Sevika kept you steady on her lap with her metal hand while the other one worked in and out of your pussy. “So wet for me, already? Barely touched you, doll.”

“Fuuck...” You rolled your entire body forward, biting your lip and leaning down just enough to press soft kisses against her face. “P-Please—”

“Please, what?” Sevika said sternly. “Use your words, doll.”

“I… I n-need… ohfuck...”

“Come on,” She smirked, curling her fingers at just the right angle that you almost feel your legs give out. “Just say it—”

“Fuck me,” You whine, finally giving in. “Please, please, please… fuck me, daddy.”

There was a hunger in her eyes that wasn’t there before. It was like a switch had flipped inside of her because in mere seconds, you went from sitting on her lap to her pushing you down into the floor that was littered with pillows, blankets, anything you could desire to make this as comfortable as possible.

Sevika all but ripped her pants to try and free what had been teasing you initially. You only had a few seconds to really look at the strap around her hips before she was lining the tip of the bright purple silicone against your core.

“Pretty little thing,” Sevika growled, almost ferally as she slammed down overtop of you. Suddenly, the leather around your chest felt entirely too tight, like you couldn’t breathe. You began frantically reaching for the ties to undo the restraint on your chest, and Sevika noticed because you gasped at her ripping the ropes off the bustier and pushing the fabric apart to really look at you.

“Now, because you were a good girl…” Sevika gently prodded your opening, making you whimper and reach for her biceps. “You get a warning before you get fucked.”

“Daddy, please—”

That was her trigger. You could only grab at her muscles before she was plunging all of her strap inside of your cunt like it belonged to her. You tried to scream, but nothing came out other than a strangled squeak as your head went back on the pillows and tears filled your eyes.

You aren’t a stranger to being stretched out like this. It wasn’t like it was your first day at the brothel… but it was your first day with Sevika. She only gave you a few seconds to adjust to that cock before she was reaching down with her flesh fingers and gently rubbing at your clit.

Your soft squeaks faded into intense moans, much to the woman’s delight. She chuckled, watching you squirm and look at her like she was an alien of some sort.

“Not what you expected, doll?” Sevika teased, rolling her hips forward and making you moan like the whore you were. “Didn’t think I’d care about making you feel good?”

Very stupidly, you nodded.

“Let me fix that,” She leaned down, and you curled your fingers into the leather of her jacket before bracing yourself for the most intense workday of your entire fucking life.

“Be good for daddy and I’ll make you cum so hard that you’ll beg me not to leave.”

And that is exactly what Sevika did.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Your Arranged Marriage Series

Part 2: Geto Suguru

Word Count: 3k

Synopsis: You’ve always carried the weight of the Zenin name, struggling to live up to a family legacy that crushes more than it elevates. When your father demands you marry one of the few special-grade sorcerers at Jujutsu High or suffer a punishment too brutal to consider, you almost give up. Until Geto Suguru makes that decicion for you...

Warnings: reader is a member of the Zenin family so a lot of trauma lol, physical abuse, so much drama but a ton of fluff in the end, Suguru is our husband y'all

„(y/n).“

It started out like any other normal day at jujutsu high. Going to the classroom with Nanami and Yu, giving it all you’ve got despite the fact that you didn’t make it past grade 3 since you’ve started studying here, meeting up with Suguru and Satoru during break.

It’s been a comfortable life, more than you could have ever asked for. After all, you are none other than the daughter of the Zenin clan’s leader. The one who’s supposed to carry on a family of strong jujutsu sorcerers.

You. A grade 3.

“I gave you more than enough time to develop. Fuck, I even arranged you attending that cursed school!”

A rough slap that doesn’t even hurt anymore, your skin so adjusted to the sting that you felt nothing but numbness.

“Are you too dumb to understand the whole clan relies on your lousy self?”

He grabbed your hair and yanked you upwards again, forced you to stare straight into his dead eyes.

“If you aren’t capable of becoming a decent jujutsu sorcerer, you’ll have to marry one. Maybe your children will be of use.”

Your…children? Marrying someone back at jujutsu high? What a ridiculous thought, after all, you’re still way too young for something like this-

“I’ll give you three months. Three months to find a man who is a special grade jujutsu sorcerer. Three months until you have to get married.”

“But…There are only three special grade sorcerers!”, you protested out of instinct, only to get your mouth forcefully shut by another ruthless slap from your father that felt like breaking your nose.

“Seduce them. That’s the least you can do.”

Seduce them. Your gaze drifted towards Satoru and Suguru more than once, wondering if you’d ever dare to make a move on them. They greeted you so friendly, supported you as good as possible. Suguru started giving you training sessions after each and every rough day, taught you on a regular basis in order for you to become stronger.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, (y/n). Even though you’re a Zenin, you don’t have to be a special grade sorcerer”, he spoke softly while lifting you off the ground.

“Easy to say when you’re a special grade yourself…”, you muttered, careful to avoid his gentle gaze.

Suguru has always been to good for this world. Looking out for you when no one else does, supporting you through everything the best he can. Yes, Suguru Geto is the kind of husband every girl you ask for, the boy you’ve kept you’re eye on since the first time he spoke to you.

But asking him out, let alone proposing to him for the sake of your own well-being and your lousy family? You could never do that.

No, Suguru deserves way better than you. What if he thinks you only want him because of his title? What if your father digs his mighty claws into him? There’s no way in hell you’ll ever allow that.

Even if this means directing your father’s anger towards you.

“I’ve been waiting long enough, (y/n).”

His cold voice cuts through the cheerful air and interrupts even Satoru from saying another playful word. All pairs of eyes are suddenly set on you.

Those of your father included.

“Why didn’t I hear from my daughter those past weeks, huh?”

The blood in your veins freezes immediately, all color draining from your face. This is bad, very very bad. You thought you had more time, one more weeks until you’re due. Your father made it more than clear that he’s expecting a husband from you the next time both of you meet.

And you have to offer nothing but yourself.

“I didn’t make it”, you finally mutter.

“You disappoint me all over again. You’ve had one job, (y/n). Only one job.”

He steps towards you, cold eyes glaring you straight into the ground. No, not in front of your friends, not when Suguru stands right next to you-

But before you’re even able to protest, your father grabs your uniform and yanks you towards him, your feet dangling in the air.

“You useless piece of shit”, he screams on top of his lungs while shaking your, forcing every little bit of air out of your lungs.

“Too dumb to get better than grade 3 and finding a husband who’s a special grade? Maybe I should kill you right here on the spot, huh?”

Your father’s grip on your uniform tightens, his furious eyes darkening. The world starts to blur as you gasp, struggling to breathe, but then-

“Let her go.”

The command is quiet, cold. Suguru steps forward, his face calm but his eyes blazing with a determination that makes your father pause. Suguru's hand is on your father’s arm in a flash, prying his fingers off you with a force that leaves no room for resistance.

“What do you think you’re doing?”, your father hisses, venom lacing his words.

Suguru's gaze doesn’t waver.

"If you’re so insistent on a husband for her, then you’ll have one. I’ll marry her. I’m the special grade you’re asking for."

A hush falls over the room, even Satoru, who usually has a comment for everything, is left speechless. The weight of Suguru’s words hangs heavy in the air, settling over you with a mix of relief and fear. This isn’t what you wanted for him. This isn’t what he deserves. But no word of protest escapes your lips, not when your father’s eyes still linger over you dreadfully. What a coward you are, ruining Suguru’s life to safe your own.

After what feels like forever, your father scoffs, but there’s a glimmer of approval in his gaze. Of course, he’s aware of Suguru Geto’s status, the boy who isn’t part of the big jujutsu sorcerer families but still holds breath-taking skills. A pretty good match, a promise to the future.

“Fine,” he sneers.

“But if I see her slipping, she’ll answer to me.”

With that, he storms away, leaving silence and a chill in his wake.

You don’t even dare to look at Suguru, embarrassment now swallowing you whole. This can’t be true, has to be one of your countless nightmares. Your father basically forcing Suguru to marry you while you stand next to him, doing nothing but watching? 

“Hey, are you alright?”, he questions before gently placing his hand on your shoulder.

“You…You don’t have to do this. I need to find another way-“

“By marrying another special grade sorcerer? You know that Satoru and I are your only options here at jujutsu high? I can allow him to hurt you.”

“I…I just need to get stronger”, you press out.

“You need to accept my help. Please, let me do this for you. I can’t stand the idea of you getting hurt by your father.”

“But that means marrying me. That means marrying into that family, that you won’t be able to leave. I…I can’t ask for something like this. We can’t do this.”

You feel like throwing up any given minute, the sudden wave of emotions making you feel dizzy. What are you supposed to do? Why didn’t you try harder? There has to be a way out of this, a way to avoid ruining Suguru’s life together with yours.

But to be honest, your head is empty. There isn’t a single potential solution you didn’t think through already, no way out you didn’t try over those past weeks.

You are too weak to meet your father’s standards on your own and Suguru is the only way for this arranged marriage to involve someone decent. What if your father decides to find a husband for you?

A dry cough escapes your lips while you try to stop yourself from puking.

Is marrying Suguru really the only way?

-after the ceremony-

The evening is still, blanketed in a quiet Suguru and you can feel as the last traces of daylight fade from the sky. Soft candlelight fills the room, casting a gentle, muted glow on the walls - a stark contrast to the earlier chaos of the ceremony. Despite the festivities, the muted joy, and the unspoken words from family and friends, the reality of this arrangement sits heavy in your chest, and a kind of emptiness clings to you like your skin.

Suguru stands across from you, his tall frame outlined by the flickering light. He looks so calm, so composed, as he usually does, but the gentleness in his eyes now holds something deeper, something unreadable. He’s here, bound to you, tied to the Zenin family and all of its darkness and expectations, and it’s a thought that makes your stomach twist with guilt.

You can barely look at him as he steps closer, and the silence stretches, each heartbeat a drumbeat of regret echoing in your mind. How you could let things get this far, why did your weakness led you to this night where Suguru is forced to bear a burden that should have never been his? And all of this while he looks so handsome in that dark blue suit.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” you finally murmur, your voice small, almost inaudible.

The words tremble out of you as a flood of emotions swells within, too much to keep contained. Your voice breaks as you continue.

“Suguru, I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t… I didn’t want this for you.”

“(Y/n),” he says softly, reaching out to you, his hand hovering just above your shoulder as if asking permission to comfort you.

You close your eyes, ashamed, willing yourself not to break down, not to let him see just how torn apart you feel. But his hand gently settles on your shoulder, and it’s enough to dissolve whatever flimsy resolve you had left.

A sob escapes before you can stop it, and the weight of everything, your father, the impossible expectations, the years of feeling like not being good enough and now this forced bond, comes crashing down. Your knees start to give way, and you sink to the floor, unable to hold it in anymore.

“I never wanted this for you,” you whisper between shallow breaths, looking down as you feel tears streak down your face.

“You deserve…you deserve someone better, someone who doesn’t drag you into this horrible family, into this endless cycle of cruelty and control. I should have stopped you, I should have trained harder, should have been…better…”

Suguru kneels beside you, one hand gently resting on your back as the other moves to tilt your face up to his. His touch is tender, his gaze unwavering, and he watches you as if you’re the only person in the world who matters.

“I chose this,” he says firmly, his voice steady, a calm assurance anchoring every word.

“(Y/n), you have to understand that I’m here because I want to be here. I’m not doing this because of your father, or even for him. I did this because I couldn’t stand the thought of you suffering any longer. Because I… I’ve wanted to be by your side for a long time.”

The intensity of his words shakes you into a completely different direction. You blink hasty against the coat of tears in your eyes, stunned as his confession begins to sink in. Him…wanting to be by your side for a long time?

“I’ve loved you for years, (y/n),” he continues, his voice softer now, but still steady.

“I don’t know when it started. Maybe it was the way you never gave up, even when everyone seemed to be against you, or maybe it was the way you always cared about others, even if they couldn’t see it. You have this strength that you don’t even realize. And I fell in love with that strength, with your kindness, your resilience. I fell in love with you.”

Suguru’s words hang in the air, filling the quiet with an overwhelming warmth. Your mind races, trying to comprehend what he’s saying, how he could feel that way, how he could possibly think of you with such admiration. Is it a cruel joke, a nightmare, maybe? How could a man like Suguru Geto ever love someone like you? You can’t meet his gaze, your heart pounding, his confession echoing in your mind.

“You…you’re saying that you…”

The words falter, disbelief woven through them. You’ll never be good enough for a man like him. You, the lousiest member of the Zenin clan, a grade 3 sorcerer while he’s a special grade. Him who is popular wherever he goes, who has countless girls secretly keeping up with his tracks while you always lived in the shadows back at jujutsu high.

He…he loves you?

“Yes,” he whispers, his thumb gently brushing a stray tear from your cheek.

“I’ve dreamed of being with you, (y/n). I wished for a future together, one where we could be together without any of this mess, without your father’s interference, without any expectations from anyone but ourselves. I wanted us to grow into that future slowly, to experience life together on our own terms. But maybe fate had something else in mind.”

His words are steady, but there’s a hint of sorrow in them, an echo of the hope for something simpler, something kinder. You can see that he had imagined a different path for the two of you, one free of constraints and family legacies, a journey that would’ve let him show you his love in its purest form.

“But Suguru,” you begin, choking back the tears.

“This family, my family, will try to use you. They’ll see your strength and skill as a means to control, a way to fulfill their ambitions. They’ll tie you to this name, weigh you down with the same expectations they forced on me. The only reason for our marriage is the fact that they expect my future children to fill the void my uselessness left.”

Suguru’s gaze hardens slightly, a flicker of defiance breaking through his usual calm.

“Let them try. I’m not afraid of the Zenin family. I don’t want you to worry about that. And if they think they can manipulate me, they’re wrong.”

His hand finds yours, fingers lacing together with a gentle squeeze.

“I am here because I want to be here. Not because I owe them anything, or because I’m part of their plan, let alone because I pity you. And no matter what they say or do, my loyalty is to you, and you alone.”

A wave of emotion surges up in your chest again, but this time it’s not guilt or shame. It’s relief, gratitude, and a kind of hesitant joy that Suguru’s love is real, not just something forced by circumstance. You gaze down at your entwined hands, gaping at the warmth of his skin, the reassurance in his touch and a new sense of calm fills the room.

“Can you forgive me?” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

“For dragging you into this mess, for… everything?”

Suguru’s hand lifts to cup your face, his fingers tracing your jaw with a softness you never experienced before.

“There’s nothing to forgive. If anything, you gave me a way to protect you, a chance to stand beside you. I can’t think of anything I’d want more.”

Slowly, he leans forward, his forehead resting gently against yours, and you close your eyes, feeling the weight of his presence, the steady rhythm of his breathing matching your own. The world outside slowly but surely fades away, leaving only the two of you, together in this fragile, newfound peace.

“(Y/n),” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin.

“Let’s make this ours. This life, this future… we can shape it however we want. Let’s find happiness on our terms, not theirs.”

Tears spill over again, but this time, they’re different - softer, lighter, filled with joy instead of dread. It’s as if Suguru’s words have lifted something from you, a burden that you’d carried for too long. For the first time, you allow yourself to imagine a future without fear, a future where you and Suguru can build something beautiful together.

You nod slowly, still overwhelmed, but there’s a quiet strength blooming inside you, the beginnings of hope.

“I’d like that,” you whisper.

“I’d like that a lot.”

Suguru’s arms wrap around you ever so gently, pulling you close, his embrace steady and unwavering. You allow yourself to relax against him, finally surrendering to the comfort he offers, allowing yourself to feel safe in his arms. Oh, it feels so much better than it did those countless times in you imagination. Not even in your dreams, you allowed yourself the dangerous thought of being by his side. And now? Now this man is your husband, not because he has to, but because he wanted to.

Minutes pass, the silence comfortable, his fingers gently running through your hair as he holds you. Finally, you pull back slightly, meeting his gaze, and you can’t help but notice the faint smile on his lips - a smile that seems to hold promises, a shared understanding that goes beyond words.

“We’ll take this one step at a time,” he says. We’ll face whatever comes our way together. I don’t care what your father or the Zenin clan throws at us. They don’t define us.”

You nod, a faint smile breaking through the lingering sadness.

“I think I’m starting to believe that too…Maybe.”

Suguru’s smile widens, and he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before he pulls back.

“We’ll make it work,” he assures you, his voice a soothing balm to your soul.

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[realchemistry]

Breaking down all the Buddie from "Confessions"

Did I write a photo review with over 5000 words dissecting the episode? Yeah, I did... Hope y'all enjoy!

Gonna ignore the first call because other than the bad mustache CGI/shots where it's not even there, there wasn't anything of substance. I wonder if they used that old call cause they had to fill up time, were short on budget, something else fell through or what happened.

So let's move to Eddie going to church. After 23 or so years he felt the need to confess his sins. But after an explanation of the crazy stuff that went down with Kim, including mentioning how Eddie lied to his son, his best friend and his girlfriend, he concluded he's not deserving of forgiveness and fled. The priest looked conflicted and that's supposed to be that.

Eddie, catholic guilt and all, went to church to confess. It's like the most desperate measure, I imagine, but desperate times... He gave the priest his name. Interesting. I got so emotional when he described Chris and talked about his optimism. Lying to Buck was pretty much at the top of the list, huh? Like, Eddie knew how bad he was behaving because their relationship's made up of truths. His talk in the kitchen with Buck was actually instrumental to him seeing how wrong all of it was. They need to be married immediately. The fact that one of the prayers (?) Eddie was meant to repent with was called "Our Fathers" was also interesting because it's coming from a priest or father but also, more obviously, Eddie's got a million daddy issues. Ramón traumatized him and Eddie said he traumatized Chris and Chris ended up going to Texas to live with Eddie's father.

The Buck and T date scene was super interesting for many, many reasons:

Buck thought he had the upper hand, saying he'd pay for dinner and trying to get T to guess the reason behind it.

T already knew it's their anniversary, which Buck clearly didn't expect.

T didn't just know, he actually brought Buck a gift for the occasion.

Interestingly enough, last season we learned that Buck didn't like basketball in the episode in which his jealousy and Eddie and T and him being bisexual happened.

T, after SIX months of dating the man, somehow didn't know that and gifted Buck tickets to see the Lakers.

For some odd reasons, T told Buck he didn't even have to take him to the game, "Take Eddie if you want," he suggested.

Buck looked confused but not exactly averse to that idea and asked, "really?"

And then T went, "and die" and then Buck replied, "okay, that sounds right."

Now, let's go through all that. It's their anniversary, they're out for dinner, and they apparently had a good time and then it's like they're completely out of sync. Buck wanted to pay for dinner to commemorate their anniversary, thinking T had missed it, whereas not only did T not miss it but he also bought him a present. Problem was said present wasn't something Buck actually cared for, which T seemed unaware of. The joke about taking Eddie... Why even suggest that? Was that a test? Did Buck fail it by wondering if that was really a possibility?

Then the woman interrupted the date and asked for a picture, with some unnecessary touching involved. I truly didn't get why Buck grabbed his own phone to take the pics... Was this second nature to him? A practical way to have an excuse to ask for the woman's phone number to send the pics? She wondered this and Buck denied it but there's literally no other reason to do that. T looked at the whole thing amusedly. Buck took the pics and went back to the table, expressing how weird that was.

Was that weird? I'm honestly so confused by that scene, like... people ask strangers to take their pics all the time. Yes, some of those might be an excuse to flirt but they're at a restaurant, which isn't exactly the greatest place to be trying to pick up someone. Also, Buck made it weird with the whole using his phone thing. Even if the woman was flirting, which she seemed to be, it didn't have to be made into anything. We can assume from this that Buck is uncomfortable being flirted at in front of T but he might also not feel great about feeling attracted to somebody other than his boyfriend who's right there to see it all.

Here's where it actually got weirder. T acknowledged the fact that it's okay to look and then Buck remarked that T didn't do that. T explained he's gay by saying he's a Kinsey 6. Buck, for some reasons, didn't pick on the meaning of that so T had to explain it. That's just... I call bullshit on that. Buck, recently bisexual, lover of research and internet deep dives would know ALL about it. This scene, I gotta say, felt super wonky. At points it was meant to but at others, like this one, it just... felt off. There's also the fact that Oliver and L have zero chemistry...

Anyway, back to the date. So T didn't know that Buck disliked basketball and Buck didn't know that T was gay? After SIX months of being together? What in the hell? Why were they only talking about that at this point? I don't think full disclosure or knowing your partner's history is a must at all, but considering Buck's curiosity and the fact that he was newly out, I figured all these subjects would've part of the first conversations between them. I'm not sure what to think. Was the writing completely off? Were they unable to come up with a better excuse to bring about the past partners talk and resorted to this? It's baffling. And since it's canon, whatever the reason, I found that the whole date showcased how little they actually knew about each other, which could only be a bad sign of the things to come for their relationship.

Of course, after that comment, T revealed he was engaged to a woman and called it off. Once again, the dialogue... T saying the woman went "nuts" after their break up, taking up some "himbo" half her age... Buck figured she was just trying to get over T, and then he mentioned the name of the woman. Of course it was Abby. Of course. Buck was literally having a crisis there, but the waiter showed up and asked how everything was. T, completely out of tune with what Buck was clearly trying to process, said it was "perfect." The waiter asked if he could get them anything else and T said "no, I think we're good." Buck looked so the opposite of good. Then the waiter wondered "who gets the damage" and, at last, a flawless piece of dialogue with T pointing at Buck and saying "That would be him." Buck was handed the check and the waiter told him, "whenever you're ready, no rush" and left while Buck looked like he was having a heart attack.

So, yeah, the date was a complete disaster. It's a mix between the actors not clicking, the dialogue serving the plot instead of Buck as a character (and Abby and even the show) and finally the actual plot dictating that it had to be a disaster. Honestly, the moment this bit ended, I knew they were going to be done.

Next, Buck went to dispatch to talk to Maddie. Why didn't he talk this through with Eddie, Hen and Chim? Curious... Maddie wondering how many men Abby had turned gay was hilarious. But I can't believe they didn't squeeze in the fact that Buck's bi there. They didn't do it during the date, though it was implicit, but here they had the perfect opportunity since they hadn't done it before. It would've taken a second for Buck to correct Maddie. Again, the writing this episode was all over the place, specially cause Buck looked at Maddie offended and Maddie clarified she was joking but then Buck sorta explained himself and T... anyways. Josh showed up then, and something was totally off with the actor's hair btw, I couldn't focus for a second there.

Josh eavesdropped and caught the kissing a boy part and eagerly asked if there was another boy... Buck was quick to deny that. Well, there's Eddie... Maddie and Buck explained the whole situation and Josh apparently knew her but they weren't close. And then, again, this whole thing just didn't make sense. Buck remarked that T led her on, said he loved her and then hurt her. Maddie thought Buck was afraid T would do that to Buck but Buck denied this and said, "I thought I knew him" and that he didn't think T would be capable of being dishonest and cruel.

Let me rewind for a second. Why was Buck under the impression that he knew T? Buck didn't even know T was gay... Also, didn't Buck know about T's past? He was worse than cruel to Hen and Chim... Truly, was he not told about all of that? I just, the use of the world cruel here... don't get me wrong, leading someone on is cruel but the whole being gay and repressing it part, while not excusing it, would at least explain T's actions. But the way he acted towards Chim and Hen... that had nothing to do with self-repression. It just didn't. I need someone to explain to me in detail how come Buck was deluded to think he knew T when at this point I'd be shocked to learn he knew T's last name.

Then the Josh speech happened. I wasn't happy with it at all. First of all, what's Buck loving him to do with any of it? If T was a cruel person, then Buck loving him wouldn't justify any of what he did to Abby. Buck looked super not in love as an answer, which was hilarious to me because of course he didn't love T, he didn't know the man!!! Josh backtracked from that word and asked a series of questions aimed at... gauging how much Buck cared for T? IDEK, it was all pretty ridiculous from the start. Also, first two questions made sense for Buck to answer affirmatively but T was literally such a plot device that there hadn't been a single instance in which Buck had shown that he was thinking about T or making T's concerns and happiness his own. These things, though, get positive answers in canon as far as Buddie is concerned. The future question was interesting because Buck's answer was "I could." It's never a definitive answer, it's another instance of "I guess" from the time T echoed "my attention?" when they first kissed. It's like Buck was convincing himself then. Josh took that to advice Buck to stop judging T because Buck didn't know what he was talking about.

The speech went into pre and post Glee world and all that nonsense. I truly hate a lot of things this episode chose to be. Was mentioning a Ryan Murphy show in a RM show a necessity? I don't wanna get into what Glee did or didn't do for the queer world, the point here is actually moot because T and Abby weren't a thing before Glee. Again, whatever experience with coming out T and Josh had, it had nothing to do with what Buck was asking. Buck was worried about the side of T he claimed not to know and how cruel he could be. I think the way T referred to her and the situation was also pretty awful, in the present tense. Even if one thought T was protecting himself by being with Abby, there is still room for judgement. We have Hen and Karen, in this same show, not being cruel to anyone, for one. Also, T didn't fight a single battle. He treated his coworker who was out like scum and was racist towards Chim. T wasn't an activist fighting for his life and his rights, he was just a bad person all around as far as we know. He had no scars to show. We can pretend he had an internal battle, maybe a family issue with his coming out but there's nothing to honor him for.

I cannot believe this show did that speech so awfully and pretended it was the greatest thing since Jack Shephard's "live together, die alone." Truly, they thought they had done a brilliant job and it's utter bullshit throughout.

Moving on, Eddie went to get juice... but then he changed his mind and got water instead. Who's there to witness that but Father Brian. Eddie's outside, drinking his water looking gloomy about it when Brian asked him of he could take a seat. Eddie allowed him to and for some reason, as Brian was sitting down, looked around. Brian told Eddie about being there for the first time, as if compelled, and then asked Eddie if he went there often. Eddie immediately assumed he was being hit on. Now, whether this is indicative of Eddie being hit on a lot or he just took those words as the line they sometimes can be and interpreted it that way, I hope we'll find out soon. Either way, Eddie told Brian "no offense, I'm straight." The lady doth protest... Hilariously enough, Brian's answer wasn't "me too" or "I'm not interested" but "I'm celibate". Eddie took that in and then Brian introduced himself and revealed that he knew Eddie. Eddie was processing that and the Father part, his hand still in the air.

Brian mentioned that he noticed that Eddie chose the juice initially and then got the water instead. He asked Eddie why he did that and Eddie kinda asked "decided I wanted water?" Brian posed that Eddie was punishing himself, denying himself because Eddie didn't feel worthy. Eddie sighed and, "I don't feel worty of juice?" Brian went straight (haha) to the point, "Of joy." Eddie chuckled and looked around and spoke in a low voice as he said he didn't have a lot to be joyful about because Brian was bringing up something Eddie had confessed to him in public. Eddie's well aware he's in public... Brian started listing the things that Eddie had, Chris, his parents, his job and his mustache. Eddie was kinda not happy but that last one got him laughing and blushing. He then confessed that he grew the mustache because he couldn't grow a full beard due to the LAFD. Brian concluded the mustache was a disguise and Eddie said it was something like that. Brian asked what Eddie's afraid of seeing in the mirror and Eddie said, "A failure. A man who doesn't deserve forgiveness. Or joy." Brian said that's now what go wanted for Eddie, that he'd already forgiven him. Eddie repeated that he doesn't deserve that and uncapped the bottle to take a sip of the water. Brian told him to earn it, and to stop punishing himself in the meantime. He remarked that Eddie spent his life in service and he understood that but they couldn't take care of others if they didn't take care of themselves. Eddie smiled and said he understood and Brian told him that after praying, he wanted Eddie to do something frivolous, something fun, something that expressed pure joy. Eddie told him he'd think about it.

The Eddie scenes were clearly written by someone else because they were all pretty on point. We had Eddie conflicted, and while it could just be him preferring water (the alternative is truly devastating to me so I want to believe Eddie isn't punishing himself through food), Brian decided to go with it to get Eddie to reflect about what he was doing to himself and it worked. Eddie didn't run away like he did in church but Eddie was shown to be aware of his surroundings, so the fact that he claimed to be straight with all of his chest... Why did he do that? Why did he think he was being hit on in the first place? Why was that moment necessary within this scene? Was juice really a representation of joy? Was joy a metaphor for something else? What were tptb trying to show or say here? Would a heterosexual character need to affirm himself as such? Would a repressed one? Thoughts, so many thoughts!!!!

The well emergency happened and it wasn't about Eddie, but it was interesting cause they seem to be doing Greatest Hits for some reason... Now I gotta ask, wouldn't Eddie, as a medic, know that getting the kid oxygen wouldn't work? Why was Hen explaining that to him? Honestly, the writing this episode... Buck's first idea was to dig... funny. Eddie said someone had to get down there and Bobby told him he wasn't gonna fit this time. Interesting. Bobby announced they would pull the big brother out after two minutes no matter what, specifically addressing Buck and Eddie. Interesting.

So it wasn't about Eddie because it wasn't the same Eddie. The pipe was smaller and Eddie didn't fit. But Eddie also didn't fit himself. He disguised himself with a mustache to avoid looking at his face in the mirror because he felt like a failure. He was shown in an episode entitled "Masks" at home taking down Halloween decorations all on his own. Bobby made sure that both Buck and Eddie knew the clock was ticking and they had to abide by it this time. Unlike Eddie's well, when Eddie cut the line and Hen refused to have Buck look for him because they'd end up with two cut lines. No more lines being cut? No more alternative ways to escape? Maybe I'm reading way too much but the camera did show Buck and Eddie's reaction as Bobby singled them out.

Back at the loft, T said he had a spot right out front and they should Uber to the movie so he didn't lose it. That phrasing... Buck agreed but asked to talk first. T replied positively, "we got time." Again, funny way to put it. They were both going to the movies so why was T the one who was going to lose it if they didn't get the Uber? You know who actually got an Uber with Buck recently, right? Also, "we got time".... famous last words. He'd just said they didn't have time but then said they did and, well, as it turned out, they didn't.

They sat down around the island and Buck brought up the story at the restaurant that T shared with him about how he "almost got engaged." This was odd and T corrected Buck, "I did get engaged. What I didn't do is get married." Buck said he appreciated T's honesty and that he wanted to be honest with him. T knew this spelled trouble and Buck denied it before taking out his phone and passing it over to show T pictures of Buck and Abby. T was surprised at first but then he scrolled to a pic of Buck and Abby kissing. Buck announced he was the himbo. T agreed it was crazy, after Buck put it like that, but added it was a little awkward. Buck decided to go closer and said it was like that for him as well at first, and that he should had been honest at dinner, but T asked or gathered that it had freaked him out a little. Buck said yes to this and T explained that if he had known, he wouldn't had used the word himbo because he didn't think Buck's one. Buck claimed that he was, at least before Abby, because what they had wasn't that, not for him. Buck said it was the most transformative relationship of his life until then. Buck said one of the reasons he's comfortable with T was that T's comfortable with himself. T said he wasn't always that way and Buck said he's aware and it made him admire T more. And then dropped the bomb, saying he wanted T to move in with him. WHAT?

No, really, WHAT? Buck really got deranged thoughts cause why on Earth would he ask T to move in? They clearly didn't know each other, they didn't love each other either, so explain how this made sense?? I'm hoping that it's a case of tptb purposefully having Buck spiral and go from zero to a hundred. There's also parallels between this and Eddie and Marisol, with Buck and Eddie asking their partners to move in when their relationships were clearly not at that stage.

T's reaction to Buck's words was crystal. While Buck said he was ready to take the next step and then, for entirely insane reasons, made it clear that he wasn't proposing marriage and or an engagement, though that'd be a possibility thanks to the brave people that came before like T. WHAT? Really, no, I'm so serious. I fucking cannot with this dialogue. Moving in, the suggestion, was bad enough, but bringing up marriage? Attributing the fact that they had that right thanks to people like T? SERIOUSLY? This was atrocious. I know Oliver was thinking of his bank account while delivering those lines because they were as non sensical as they could get.

"Why be apart when we can be together?" Buck finally asked. T said that's sweet but he couldn't move in. Buck wondered the why and T answered, "Because... I know how this ends." And my heart literally stopped or skipped a beat or something. I legit thought he was gonna bring up Eddie or a hint and, well, he kinda did, though not directly.

Buck asked what that meant and T explained. He mentioned Buck's qualities but then said that Buck's feelings were new and so it was all exciting and it felt like forever but he's still figuring himself out, which was good. Buck asked what he was saying and T said that no matter how bad he wanted to be, he wasn't his last but his first. Buck interjected that they could be the same but T said they usually weren't. If he were to move in, Buck wouldn't mean to but he'd end up breaking T's heart and he didn't think he could deal with that. He got up to leave, saying he should go and Buck told him to wait and asked him if he had just broken up with him, to which T replied, "yes, I guess I did. Believe me, I didn't see it coming either. Should've known that parking spot was too good to be true. I'll see you around, Buck."

At last, free! But while the beginning of the conversation was terrible, it ended on a high note. There's a lot of questions, like: according to what he said, T knew there wasn't a future between them. So I'm guessing here that after six months, they hadn't actually discussed that because Buck was clearly on a different page. T knew they weren't long term while Buck was thinking of moving together and being together for good. Make it make sense, how were these two dating not knowing anything about each other and not discussing basic relationship stuff??? T knew that Buck had to figure himself out yet he was still with him hoping it'd be casual without actually talking about it??? Yet he later claimed he didn't see a break up coming and he could see his heart being broken?

Now, my shipper heart wants to believe the between-the-lines reading of this scene had Eddie written all over. Eddie is how it'll end... And the fact that T's answer to Buck's question contained the "guess" this time around, mirroring Buck's response to "my attention"... INTERESTING. It was all a guessing game between BT, It's also the first time he called Buck by his name, which was the first and probably last because we're not gonna see him ever again. I was glad Buck asked if they were done because we all know he got confused about it with Abby... So long, T, you will not be missed. Buck's loft door opened and later on, another did...

Finally, we had Eddie. My boy. Looking at himself in the mirror and getting rid of his disguise.

And then... I literally felt so many things at once, y'all! The music, the shot... I couldn't believe it was about to happen. And then the mole made an appearance and Eddie was wearing pink and tighty whities and I swear I couldn't. I just, even rewatching to write this... I love him so much!!!!!!!!!! I was so happy to see Eddie letting go of his disguise and allowing himself to have that joy. The fact that Ryan looked like that... I was fighting for my life the whole time, NEGL.

I kept thinking Buck was going to show up midway. I was truly bracing myself for it. But the doorbell rang. Eddie looked through the peephole. Buck was there. Eddie opened the door, nodded at him and Buck gave him a beer as an answer to an unasked question and got in. Eddie closed the door and looked at the beer, at Buck and at the beer again. He made a face and then climbed the sofa. Buck was already drinking when the camera panned to him. Eddie opened his beer and drank from it. Scene.

LISTEN. I was unhinged already because they had Ryan dancing like that. But then the final scene happened and I just... I don't know how I'll survive what I hope it's to come.

Let's break that one down:

Eddie decided to follow Brian's words. Eddie didn't forgive himself but he decided to stop punishing and disguising himself in the meantime.

The way Eddie looked at himself in the mirror, both before and after he shaved off his mustache... My heart!!!

Eddie allowed himself to do something frivolous, something fun, something that expressed pure joy. The fact that he chose to dance half naked around his house... that's very babygirl of him, and I don't say this lightly.

The pink... the moves like the ones from the bachelor party... I felt crazy.

I kept waiting for Buck to show up, like my mind was half insane at what I was seeing and half insane at the possibility of Buck seeing it as well.

The doorbell rang instead.

Why didn't Buck use his keys?

It was the perfect opportunity for Eddie to put on some pants. Eddie didn't do that… Neither before or after looking who it was.

But, really, why didn't Buck use his keys? WHY????????

Was it to hammer the fact that Eddie was comfortable opening up his door to Buck while not wearing pants?

Was it so Eddie could see him standing on the other side of the door, mimicking Brian's view of Eddie in the confessionary? Will there be something for Buck to confess in the future? To Eddie specifically???

Buck wasn't looking at Eddie when Eddie saw him behind the door, btw...

Eddie opened his door and they looked at each other and said not a word but understood each other perfectly.

I truly hate the continuity error with the shirt collar. It's gonna hunt me forever.

Buck made himself at home while Eddie considered the beer.

Remember how Eddie's choices were water or juice? Well, what about a third secret option? BEER. Buck's beer, in fact. INTERESTING.

I went nuts and will continue to go nuts at Eddie climbing the sofa. Whose choice was that? I need to know. It was so freaking cute!!!

The camera went steady and Buck was already drinking from his bottle. Eddie, on the other hand, uncapped the bottle like he did with the water, and the shot ended as he drank the beer.

The contrast in the colors of their clothes… the fact that Eddie was looking to the side while Buck was looking ahead.

Was all of this symbolic of the fact that Buck already figured his sexuality out while Eddie's just starting? I'd like to think so.

Was it symbolic of Buck reaching conclusions he'd later have to confess to Eddie before Eddie arrives to those same conclusions himself? I'd also like this very much.

Now, the episode was called "Confessions" and Buck and Eddie didn't speak to each other. Not a single word. Even in that last scene, the only one in which they actually interacted, they didn't use words to communicate.

I see this lack of dialogue between Buck and Eddie in two ways:

First, it could show how good a relationship Buck and Eddie have in order to not utter a sound and still get each other completely. Regardless of all the issues I had with the writing, I can safely say that Buck and T were the complete opposite and lacked communication all around. The space and lack thereof reflected this too. Buck and Eddie know each other so well and Buck went directly to sit down on the couch, waiting for Eddie. Eddie followed right behind. BT, though... Buck stepped away from their table and the whole conflict with T's dating history started. Buck sat very far from T at the loft and only got close to be broken up with. Incredibly enough, that final shot with Buck and Eddie sitting together at Eddie's couch was the first that ever happened... Maybe that's foreshadowing something else, like couch theory related stuff? I never really spiraled about it before but I might soon.

Second, it could indicate there's something Buck and Eddie aren't saying to each other. They didn't speak to each other because they can't -- they're not ready or aware that there is something to confess. They remained silent because it isn't time yet but if they were to confess something, it would be impossible to take back. It would change everything. It will.

This is a legit insane post. When I say they're driving me nuts, I mean it and this is proof. Even though it's the longest ever, I probably forgot stuff that I might add tomorrow.

Now please share your thoughts on the episode and Buddie and everything so I don't feel alone in my madness. <3

[ritualove]

Silas couldn't help but smile when Shira teased him about him mentioning cooties, it was like he was at the back of an english class, desperately holding in laughter while the teacher told off the class, it almost certainly gave his light blush a much more darker tone. His smile broke into a laugh when she doubted his judgement of the drink for this exact reason, frankly he was giggling, quite actively. "Well now I didn't admit that I wanted cooties, I admitted I want your cooties." He pointed out to her while she took another drink, completely aware of the possible innuendo, "Completely different things." He got his retribution when he watched her take another drink, as she much more openly reacted to her distate for it. His gentle laugher at this dampened as Shira asked Silas for his help, it was at this point where he realised just how much she was saying his name. He liked hearing her say his name, he liked it a lot. "I would love to help Shira," he said with a smile, taking the glass and having another bit drink, cutting the liquid inside the cup to half. "You shouldn't make promises you can't keep," he said smirking, there has been countless times he has sworn to make his own drinks less strong, only to ignore the measurements for his very next drink.

Silas appreciated Shira listening to him talk about his life. He's never had anyone actively turn him away when he reached out to talk about his childhood, at least not in recent memory, but he still didn't like to talk about it for his own reasons. To Silas' knowlege, Shira was giving him her full attention, and that meant a lot to him, to actually have someone listen for the rare occasion he decided to open up. He repayed her by listening to her talk about Portland, not that it was hard, he liked listening to her talk. She seemed so passionate about Portland, and she talked about the place in such a philosophical light. Most people would probably consider it pretentious, but Silas absolutely loved it. He loved listening to her talk, actually. He lifted the glass that they shared in her direction, as if inviting a clinking of glasses, "To Portland, if we ever find our way there again." He didn't mean to imply them traveling there together, but as he thought about it it did bring out a smile in him.

Silas didn't notice just how closely he has looking at Shira, he could only notice Shira. There was a moment of silence before Shira started to talk, Silas could probably have heard a pindrop if it weren't for the party still going strong downstairs, or is that his heartbeat? When Shira talked of her nervousness, it brought Silas back to the room they were in, he instinctively adjusted his posture, nothing drastic, just remembering where he was. He had a hint of worry from what she whispered, he would want nothing less than to make her uncomfortable, but after she corrected herself it took a little bit off the stress of his shoulders, but just a bit. "Sorry," he copied her hushed tone, "there's just something about you. A good thing." He hated being so vague, he felt like she deserved more, "You intrigue me." The room around him couldn't help but fade once more as he made eye contact when he talked.

This short moment between them, the whipsering and the feeling of confidentiality, like the intimacy of a confession booth, was a strange feeling to Silas. A feeling he hasn't felt often. "Thank you," he liked knowing she was entertained by him, liked knowing he was good enough. At least for a conversation, "You're not too bad yourself, Shira." Saying her name in a such a hushed tone was even stranger. Like it was more intoxicating than the drink or smoke he's had moments earlier.

Shira raised a brow as Silas took a sip from her glass, an almost knowing look flitting across her features. A sly grin tugged at her mouth as her gaze lingered for just a second on his lips as he took a drink. She moved a hand to cover the grin, trying to hide the emotions it wore. There was something about the hesitation, like maybe he wasn’t feeling as casual as he was trying to seem; and that fact bemused her. “Really?” She teased, clasping a hand over her heart “You’d want my cooties? That’s probably the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me.” Shira wasn’t sure who had brought the gin but she was fairly certain it was Seagrams. A fact she wasn’t going to mention to the man sat across from her. “Pretty good, but I don’t know if I can trust your opinion, you just admitted you want cooties.” Pleased with her quip — she giggled, her head tilting to the side and her eyes sparkling with delight before she reached for the glass. She brought it to her lips now to take another drink, a grimace shaking through her once more. Her tongue darted out in dramatic disgust before she thrust it back towards him, a pleading of “I need your help with this please, Silas,” falling from her lips, already abusing her knowledge of his name. She couldn’t help it, she liked to say it “I promise my next pour won’t be so heinous.”

Shira leaned her head back against the sill as he spoke, taking in the things he was saying and the things he wasn’t. There was something about the way he spoke, about the way he carried himself, that made Shira want to dig deeper. But she didn’t dare; because she didn’t want to make him frown. Not because she didn’t think he wouldn’t look nice frowning, in fact she was sure he would look just as handsome even if he were frowning, she just didn’t want to be the cause of it. “That’s good,” she said quietly, not pressing him further “I’m sure not a lot of people can say the same.”

Humming at his question, she took a moment to think about it. “Portland,” she repeated, allowing herself to feel the weight of it on her tongue. Bittersweet. “Yeah, I guess I carry some of that everywhere I go. It’s a city that can stick to you like glue if you allow it to. It’s not flashy or glamorous, but it’s really fuckin’ real. Flesh and blood. Filled with freaks and weirdos. A place where anyone can find somewhere to belong. I think that counts for something.” Her voice started to trail off, not meaning to go off on a tangent. “But anyways,” Shira shrugged, indifferent “I don’t miss being there. I was feeling too much pressure.” A half-truth, despite the fact that her heart was screaming at her to be honest with him.

Shira caught the intense gaze and a small smirk tugged at the corners of her lips. It wasn’t often that someone looked at her like this; so curiously. At least it wasn’t often for her, anymore. She didn’t say anything at first, letting the moment linger as she wondered about what was happening inside of his head. Her own mind raced, with a million zingers, a million quips. Something like ‘I’m not a Rubik’s cube, you don’t have to try that hard to figure me out’ on the tip of her tongue. But her vocal cords acted before her brain — “You’re making me nervous.” But she didn’t sound nervous. Quite the opposite, actually. Almost as if they were playing a game of chess and she was simply commenting on his strategy. Hushed due to their proximity. Not wanting to give Silas another half truth, she corrected “You make me nervous.” Shira didn’t know why. Maybe it was because she was acutely aware of the fact that he was psychoanalyzing her, or maybe it was the fact that she wanted him to do that. She wanted him to see her.

Her shoulders relaxed and she mirrored his movements, leaning in to listen; as if they were sharing hushed secrets in a loud classroom. Like best friends, like they had known each other long before this party had even started. “I’m very honored,” she said, sweeter this time. Not saccharine, but real. Sugar cane. “and I must confess; you’re doing a fine job so far. Consider me entertained.”

[lord-squiggletits]

Y'know I kind of feel like when Megatron killed Tarn and said 'I want you to spend your final moments thinking of this: that everything you've done has been for nothing' he was kind of self-projecting onto Tarn? Mainly because at Megatron's statue, M and T had a conversation where Tarn explicitly asked if all the Decepticons in service to Megatron died for nothing, if HE did everything he did for nothing. (And I think M even gave an answer along the lines of 'idk I think we basically did'). And then after Megatron killed the DJD and Rodimus teleported in to rescue him, there was that silent moment where Megatron just stared at Rodimus not moving at all before he finally took his hand at the last moment.

It honestly feels to me like for a while, Megatron fully intended to murder-suicide himself. Murder the DJD, his monsters and his creation, and then take himself out alongside them, because he is also a monster. Because he also feels that everything he's ever done has been for nothing.

Goddamn it's no wonder I liked that scene so much LMAO, as someone who thinks villain Megatron > Autobot Megatron, literally one of his key traits is that Megatron basically took his pain/trauma/worldview and used it to lash out at the universe and try to subjugate it to his vision. So the fact that he took his own pain and brutally murdered the DJD while telling them the very same thing that puts him through so much agony is so very deliciously ironic. And a return, however brief, to the Megatron characterization that I know and love.

[13eyond13]

.

[moonlight-prose]

a request, if i may, of praising old man logan as he filfthly eats you out and it makes him combust the more you praise him? okay running away again

speak of her over my grave and watch how she brings me back to life

a/n: look at him taking off his glasses in absolute shock of this ask- no okay does old man logan have a praise kink? i would raise it higher and say every version of logan has a massive praise kink. this is a man who wants to know he's doing good in life. his love language is acts of service so he might get to hear a pretty thank you. also i'm not sorry for how feral this got. i have no explanation.

summary: he knew he loved you when your words begin to piece his heart back together. he knew he loved you when he flourishes at your praise. he knew he loved you when nothing in this world could matter but the sound of your voice telling him you love him too.

word count: 3k+

pairing: old man!logan x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, oral (f receiving), praise kink, logan is obsessed, dirty talk via reader, he is so pretty when he blushes, manhandling, cumplay, cumeating, overstimulation, crying, he's needy in this one, angst, tortured soul of an old man, reverence, religious trauma + greek mythology hints.

He can feel the strings of fate pull tight around his broken heart. In a failed attempt to draw him back together. To piece together an organ that barely beat for him anymore. He might have felt it once, before it broke. Before it gnarled itself like the branches of a dying tree, one half twisting away from the other in a desperate attempt of survival.

He deemed it a useless part of his body until you came along. You with your smile that held enough cloying sweetness to choke him as he stood helpless. Silently begging for you to say his name. To bring him back to life.

Whatever horrors that plagued his mind—endless nightmares that promised nothing but anguish—suddenly came crashing to a halt at the sight of you. So pretty in your denim jeans and velvet top. An angel seated in the center of a bar that held more filth than you deserved to be near. Logan couldn’t fathom that luck struck him this hard.

Not when death had already claimed his soul; notched yet another tally in the endless wall of people that came before.

He felt the dirt pack under his nails as he clawed his way out of the grave he put himself in. Years spent alone—a man lost to the ravages of time—had turned him bitter. With rough edges and biting words that stung far more than he intended. How could he believe he deserved to live after he contributed so much to the endless pool of blood that tainted his soul? How was he allowed such softness after biting off bits of brutality his whole life?

Logan was pretty sure he survived on borrowed time that had already run out. He could feel death breathe down his neck as the days went on. A reminder that what little of his life remained would be spent suffering. And he found that accepting it was easier than battling against the will of God, or whoever toyed with his lifeline.

It was far easier to die than find a reason to live.

Until you said his name.

Softly. Sweetly. Reverence wrapped in a tight grasp of need.

You brought him back from the edge—took his hand and refused to take no for an answer. You and the safety of your touch; the promise in your kiss. You dragged him into a life he didn’t earn; one that almost tasted too sweet—too sour.

After near a decade of being buried beneath the dirt, he felt himself collapse above ground and suck in his first real gasp of fresh air. Alive, once more. Hell spit him out with a vow of love and who was he to argue against it.

His fingers dug into your plush thighs, tugging them open to see what lay between. He marveled at their softness, eyes wide and awestruck at the sight of you spread beneath him. You practically glowed in the dim light of the bedside table. Yellow, musty, yet angelic when it caressed your body with its heavenly touch.

He wondered if this was real life; your nails digging sharply into his shoulders gave him the answer.

"Logan," you sighed, voice high with need.

The strings pulled taught. A vice like hold that drew him to you.

Maybe that's what this unutterable feeling was. The gnawing pit at the bottom of his heart. A greed he'd never indulged before—too afraid of what it might ask for next. He wasn't a man who asked for much. Rather someone that found himself far too content with nothing. But tonight he found his lips forming the words of a false prayer that his mother taught him as a child.

Hail the angel in his bed. Hail every good fucking thing you brought into his life.

His teeth sunk into your thigh, body jolting at your responding moan. Fingers dug into his hair, tugging at the mussed locks with a high pitched whine. You were a needy little thing, but Logan found he desperately wanted to be needed.

He smiled laving his tongue over the tender spot, working his way up to where you dripped for him.

So slick. So perfect.

Saliva filled his mouth. "What do ya want baby?"

Your chest heaved; he could feel the heat of your body under his palms. "Your m-mouth Logan."

His eyes trailed along your brow covered in a sheen of sweat. The room was thick with the humid air of the outside world. But that didn't deter him from craving your skin near his. The pressure of your thighs around his head a welcome weight. If he sunk his teeth in where the curve of your leg met your hip he knew he could draw out that soft choking noise he longed to hear on days spent driving alone.

If he had his way he'd crawl into you to seek your serenity straight from the source. He'd never divulge about the ache that chewed him up on the inside, but Logan wondered if you knew. Could you tell how much he craved you? How much he couldn't live without you.

When your glittering eyes met his, the resolve he spent years building cracked like glass. You peered into him as if he was a stained glass window. A god you were more than happy to worship.

"You want me to lick this pretty pussy?" Fuck, he sounded drunk off your taste already.

His mouth hovered over your throbbing clit, your scent now filling his senses. Overwhelming him with what he wanted most. But he needed to hear it. The lilt of your begging; the soft echo of your need that washed over him like soothing river water.

He couldn't live without it.

"Yes," you sobbed, thigh twitching.

The string sliced his heart open, blood pooling onto the white bed sheets. Oh what a sweet death your love made. Oh...what a bittersweet way to go.

He'd die right now if you asked him to. Hand over his heart on a silver platter if you so wished it. Maybe that made him far too gone for his own good, but Logan couldn't remember a time in his life where he got this. Safety. The hope of love burning far too bright and far too hot for him to fly near it.

Yet there he was. Icarus happily soaring in your sun like glow.

"I got ya honey," he murmured. "Gonna take care of what's mine."

You nodded frantically—tears welling up in your eyes. "You take care of me Logan."

The breath in his chest stuttered, eyes dark as the words fell past your swollen lips. He wanted to explain why his cock twitched against his stomach. Why he now leaked into the sheet with heavy panted breaths. But every time he came up short with the words needed to form an answer.

"Yeah I do sweetheart," he breathed. "Don't I?"

"Uh-huh."

"Take care of what belongs to me."

There was no warning when his hands dragged you closer with a rough tug, mouth closing over your clit with a desperate suck. A cry wrenched from your mouth, sparks sharply traveling down your spine. He licked through your slick with a growl. Hands an unbreakable press against your thighs.

The sight of your body bowed, mouth open for small gasped breaths that never came, snapped something in his mind. He was an old man. Well past his years. But the taste of your pussy along his tongue brought back a ferocity he often tamped down in his younger age. He felt the feral want claw at his chest, and answered it with a broken snarl.

Swallowing down every drop you gave him, he plunged his tongue into your entrance, thrusting messily until a smear of your shiny slick began to coat his mouth. It covered his cheeks and clung to the hair of his beard. He'd clean it out later, taste you on his tongue until he was aching for another go. But for now he was preoccupied with the way you cried for him.

"Oh fuck!" Your thighs trembled over his shoulders, hips canting down to drag yourself along his tongue. "So good."

He shuddered, eyes rolling back at the sound of your praise. You caught it within seconds, lips pulling into a breathless smile that left him gasping for air. His teeth nipped at your thigh briefly as his hips ground into the mattress below.

"You like that baby?" you breathed, thumb smearing your own slick against his cheek.

Something hot washed over his body. A needy sick and twisted ache that he'd never indulged in before. He wanted to be a good man to you; longed to be needed. And fuck if you didn't give him everything.

You were his walking wet dream. His future handed off and wrapped in a neat little bow.

"L-Love your tongue Logan-" A high gasp tore from your throat when he dived back in. Slurping at your clit with a heady moan as you dragged him closer. "Taking care of me so well."

His hips canted down into the bed, fucking his cock along the warmth of his stomach, as you gushed into his mouth again. Eyes zeroed in on your face, pupils dilated as he growled into your flesh. You no longer could see the man you loved, but the feral side he tamped down during the day. The animal he longed to release in your presence.

"Fuck I'm gonna cum."

His arms looped around your thighs and with a sharp yank, he had his face buried deep enough to suffocate himself. You sobbed an incoherent version of his name. Nails clawed at his shoulders, but Logan could feel the pulse of your clit under his tongue.

He sucked it into his mouth with a grunt, rolling it along his tongue as you trembled with the oncoming shocks of an orgasm that threatened to destroy you.

Tears dripped down your cheeks and Logan felt the satisfying part of his heart begin to stitch itself back together. The strings were tight enough to numb his pain. To quell the flare of agony.

That used to be all he knew, all he counted on most days. When there was nothing left and he'd propped the shovel in the dirt—his grave open and waiting—he stumbled right into your arms. He found his reason for living.

Heat curled around his spine as you shook with the impending orgasm—the stimulation on your clit practically debilitating. He grunted into your soaked flesh, eyes narrowed as he chased the release that pulled his stomach taut. But this wasn't for him to indulge in; this wasn't his pleasure.

So with a throaty moan you felt reverberate along your body, he scraped his teeth along your clit and watched as your body went stiff.

"Logan!" you cried, fingers scrambling for purchase on any part of him you could reach.

You gushed into his awaiting mouth, praises of it's so good, you're so good falling upon his ears like the whimpered prayers of a devout worshiper thanking your god.

"Taste so fuckin' good," he mumbled, drunk on what you gave him.

He didn't care that you were jolting with each pass of his tongue along your pussy. He didn't care that you were shocked with overstimulation, small broken cries of his name muffled by the press of your thighs against his ears. He licked at you until he couldn't breathe. Buried his tongue into your twitching entrance and sucked out your cum with a happy hum.

"P-Please." You tugged at his hair, pulling him off you with a sob. "I-I can't anymore Logan."

"'M not fuckin' finished," he said, eyes glazed and face coated in your slick.

You made a mess of his face. The light catching along where you spilled into his mouth and along his throat. And still he wanted more. He'd spend hours between your thighs, burning your skin with his beard, if it meant he could divulge in your sweetness.

"It hurts-"

A grunt rumbled in his chest, his arms tugging you back even as your feet kicked along his back. "Just one more honey. Yeah?"

You shook your head. "B-But-"

"Thought you said it was good."

"It is."

"Then lemme be good for you." He wanted to tell you that the world went quiet between your thighs. That all his grief, all his pain, lessened when you sobbed his name.

He wanted to show you the string that looped his heart to yours—the only thing keeping him alive—and thank you for bringing him back from the dead. But words weren't his forte. Violence had become the only tenderness he knew and you didn't deserve the rough edges of an old man. You should have more.

But when you let him touch you like this—caress your skin and lick between your folds—he felt as if he was a man who finally was worthy of someone as precious as you. He could pretend he didn't bear the brunt of a fucked up soul.

The weight on his chest lifted when your tear filled gaze met his and you nodded. Small, barely there, but it was enough for him to seal his mouth back over you with a ragged moan. Your body shook as his tongue slid through the seam of your pussy. The tip nudging against your clit—careful to draw the pleasure from your body slowly.

He didn't want to give you pain. His heart wouldn't survive that. But he was a broken man; someone who begged for more even as his teeth sunk into what was already given.

You were his meal. His sacrament in the midnight hours until dawn broke across the darkened sky. You were the other half of his soul.

How could he not indulge in your sweetened tang until his tongue went stiff?

"I love you," you sighed, eyes rolled back when he sucked at your pussy, a wet low moan echoing in the air. "My p-perfect husband."

The cold press of his wedding band against your thigh drove him over the edge. You weren't officially married. Didn't have the backyard wedding with a preacher to match. But Logan had placed a ring on your finger near a year ago, sliding one over his own with the vow of forever cemented in his words.

Even if that didn't mean much in the eyes of a god who abandoned him near a century ago.

"Oh-"

Your head tipped back, mouth dropping open as his fingers dipped into your wet heat. Thrusting lazily until he found the spongey patch along your walls—driving the pad of his middle finger into it with a needy moan.

He knew it wouldn't take long for you to fly off the edge of a second release. That didn't make watching you climb to that peak any less satisfying. The sight appeased his soul. It gave him a chance to breathe; let him know that after so much bad—after so much pain—he could do something good. He could bring you to the edge of pleasure and drag you over again and again.

He could finally be the man you believed he was.

Not the animal they created.

"C'mon," he muttered. Eyes fixed on the shape of your breasts as your body curved off the bed. Hips dragging along his face with a stunted cry.

A wail bounced off the walls, piercing his eardrums with the symphony of your cries. His fingers rapidly pumped into you with a squelch that had heat burning his cheeks—lips pulling your throbbing clit into his mouth as you broke. The climax slammed into you; battering your already swollen pussy.

Logan could feel his cock swell at the sight.

"Fuckin' perfect," he grunted, teeth bared as he clambered to his knees and wrapped his fist soaked in your slick around his leaking cock. "'M gonna cum sweetheart."

Your eyes fluttered open, fingers digging into his thigh. "Please. Wanna see it baby. Look so pretty when you cum Logan."

His chest tightened, body shaking while you watched in rapture as he fucked his fist rapidly. He wouldn't fucking last, could feel the burning consume his body, but something held him back. The string around his heart yanked him away from the edge, tearing a cry from his throat when his frustration peaked.

You could see it—the glimmer of need in his dark eyes. This wasn't the first time he longed for your words. It certainly wouldn't be the last.

So you spread your legs and sat up slowly—arms wrapping around his shoulders to bring his lips down to yours. A soft moan was muffled by your mouth; the peak of his release within reach. He could practically feel the tips of his fingers graze it.

"Cover my pussy baby," you mumbled into his mouth. "Be good for me and mark what's yours."

The growl came from the very bottom of his chest when he finally came. Your name was a bitten out snarl pressed to your mouth in an open mouth kiss as he spurted over his knuckles. He pumped his cock to milk every drop; eyes fixed on the way it covered the swollen lips of your pussy. Dripping down to your entrance that fluttered at the sight of his sweaty and crimson tinged face.

"I fuckin' love ya honey," he murmured, hand cupping your chin to drag your lips back to his. "Best thing that's happened in my life is you."

You smiled, thumbs pressing to his cheeks. "Love you too Logan."

Clutching you close, he felt the string go loose. The breath finally rushing back into his lungs at the sight of your eyes glowing with the kind of light that brought him back to the first day The night he met you in that shitty bar—alcohol the only thing on his mind until he saw you.

The night you spoke his name over his covered grave and dragged him back to life with a smile.

[mssalo]

dirty old man

You were assigned as Joel Miller’s caretaker, but he’s a perverted old man who just can’t keep his hands off you. And the truth is, you don’t mind one bit—in fact, you want more.

Warnings: MDNI, 18+, age gap, caretaker f!reader, joel is a perverted old man (I imagine him around 60-70), reader in her 20s, ddlg dynamic, daddy kink, size difference, rough sex, explicit sexual content, power imbalance, perverted/dirty talk, oral (male receiving), dick riding, degradation, cum play, intense kink dynamics, hint at oral (f. receiving), cumming inside, reader loves herself some old man cock (same)

more dirty old man in masterlist

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

You’d been assigned to Joel Miller by the government, part of a caretaker program for veterans and older men who couldn’t quite manage on their own anymore.

He wasn’t exactly the type to ask for help, but his injuries left him with no choice. And from the moment you walked through that door, something shifted between the two of you.

It had started innocently enough—you were just doing your job, helping him with the daily things, cooking, cleaning, making sure he took his meds.

But Joel? Joel was a different kind of man. He wasn’t just the gruff, quiet type; he was observant. He watched you—really watched you. At first, you tried to ignore it, the way his eyes lingered a little too long when you bent over, or how he’d mutter something dirty under his breath when you passed by, something you pretended not to hear but couldn’t stop thinking about later.

The first time he really crossed the line, it was subtle.

His hands would brush against your ass when you helped him up, fingers lingering just a second longer than necessary. His gaze would trail down your body as you walked by, slow and shameless.

And his words started to shift, the way he talked to you changed.

He wasn’t just thanking you anymore, he was complimenting you in a way that made your skin flush.

The things he said, the low, filthy edge in his voice, it did something to you. You could feel your resolve crumbling.

One night, when you were helping him undress for bed, he let his hands wander. It wasn’t accidental anymore -Joel was testing the waters, and you didn’t stop him.

His voice had been rough, low as he said, “You’re too good to me, sweetheart. A man like me doesn’t deserve someone as pretty as you takin' care of him.”

He’d leaned in that night, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered something filthy, something that made your heart race and your body heat up. And you couldn’t resist it.

You couldn’t resist him.

Joel Miller wasn’t just a job anymore—he was something more. 

From that point on, it was impossible to stop. He seduced you slowly, his filthy words and rough hands becoming more familiar, more irresistible until you couldn’t help yourself.

You gave in, and now, here you were, fucking him every chance you got.

What started with stolen touches and whispered innuendos had turned into something wild, something neither of you could control anymore. Joel made you feel wanted in ways you hadn’t before, and he wasn’t shy about taking what he wanted from you.

Joel wasn’t a young man, but the way his hands gripped you, the way his cock filled you, stretched you, made it clear he could still make you weak at the knees. You made him feel things he thought were long gone, things he hadn’t felt in years—desire, hunger, lust.

It was like you’d unlocked something inside him, something primal and desperate, and now he couldn’t get enough of you.

And the way he talked to you, the dirty things that fell from his lips, made your heart race every time. He had no shame in telling you exactly what he wanted, exactly how to make him feel good.

· · ────

From the moment you walked into his life as his government-assigned caretaker, Joel couldn’t stop thinking about you. Not just thinking, but obsessing.

You were young, beautiful and far too fuckin` sweet. Completely out of place taking care of an old, worn-out man like him.

Yet here you were, every day, walking around his house in those tight little clothes, bending over to clean or reach for something, unknowingly driving him insane.

He’d resisted at first, or at least he told himself he did. But Joel was never a man of restraint, especially when temptation was sitting right in front of him, practically begging for it.

And damn if you didn’t start giving him that look—a mix of innocence and curiosity, like you knew exactly what you were doing, yet playing dumb, as if you didn’t feel the way his eyes lingered on you.

The sexual tension had built up so fast, it was like a fuse waiting to blow.

One night, after one too many "innocent" touches, the line between you two snapped. He pulled you into his lap, made you feel every inch of what you'd done to him, and you never looked back.

Now, this—this—was your new normal.

Every time you walked into the room, his cock was hard, his mind already in the gutter, thinking about what he’d do to you next.

Like now.

You were just cleaning up, wearing those simple jeans and that tight little tank top, nothing too revealing but still enough to make his cock twitch.

Joel sat back in his chair, his eyes following the way your hips swayed when you moved. 

“Goddamn, sweetheart,” Joel muttered under his breath, the hunger clear in his voice. “You know exactly what you’re doin’, hm baby?”

His gaze narrowed as you bent over, your ass perfectly framed by the tight denim, the curve of your body practically inviting him.

Filthy thoughts swirled through his mind—thoughts of bending you over the nearest table, grabbing your hips, and fucking you so hard you’d be screaming his name.

You straightened up and caught him staring, giving him that innocent smile—the one that had him aching in his jeans.

You bit your lip, like you were playing shy, and it only made his cock throb harder.

“You okay over there, Joel?” you asked, your voice all sweet and playful like you didn’t know exactly what you were doing to him.

Joel shifted in his seat, making no effort to hide the obvious bulge in his pants. “I’m just fine, darlin’. But in fact, I think I could use a little help right now. A bath maybe?”

Your eyes widened slightly, but there was no surprise. You knew this game all too well. The way his voice dropped to that deep, gravelly tone that meant only one thing—he wanted you.

And Joel always got what he wanted.

“Come here,” he rumbled, patting his thigh, his eyes never leaving you. “Don’t make me wait.”

You hesitated, just for a moment, like you were still playing the role of the innocent caretaker. But you knew where this was heading.

Slowly, you walked over, standing right in front of him. Joel’s eyes drank in the sight of you, his gaze trailing up from your legs, over your hips, to the way your breasts strained against your tank top.

"Sit down," he commanded, patting his thigh again, this time more insistently.

You bit your lip, feigning innocence, but the look in your eyes said you knew exactly what you were about to do.

Slowly, you lowered yourself onto his lap, feeling the hard bulge of his cock pressing up against you through his jeans. Joel let out a low groan, his hands immediately finding your hips, pulling you down harder onto him.

"Fuck," he muttered, his voice a deep rasp. "That’s better. You feel that, baby? Feel what you do to me every fuckin’ day?”

You squirmed slightly in his lap, already feeling the heat building between your legs. Joel’s hands gripped your waist tighter, his fingers digging into your skin as he guided your hips, pressing you down onto his hard cock.

"You've been drivin' me crazy, darlin'," Joel growled, his breath hot against your neck.

“Ever since you started comin' here, wearin’ those tight little clothes, bendin' over right in front of me like you don’t know what you’re doin'. You’ve been teasin’ me, haven’t ya?”

Your breath hitched, and you didn’t answer, but Joel didn’t need you to. His hands slid up your sides, lifting your shirt just enough to feel the bare skin beneath his calloused palms. 

“You’re a sweet little thing,” he muttered, his voice thick with lust.

“But I bet you like this, don’t ya? You like sittin' in an old man’s lap, grindin' on my cock like a good girl.”

You whimpered softly, your body already responding to his touch, the heat between your legs growing unbearable as he pulled you tighter against him.

His words were filthy, but the way he spoke made it clear—you were his, and he was going to take whatever he wanted.

"You’ve got all those boys your age starin' at you, darlin’? But here you are, sittin' on my cock. You want it, hm, baby?" Joel’s voice was low, his breath hot as his hands moved down, grabbing your ass, pulling you against him harder, the friction between you sending a jolt of pleasure through you.

“Feel how fuckin’ hard I am?” he growled, grinding his hips up into you, making sure you felt every inch of his cock pressing against your core. “This is what you do to me.”

His fingers slid between your legs, rubbing slow, teasing circles over the damp fabric of your jeans, right where you needed him most.

You gasped, grinding down against his hand, desperate for more. Joel chuckled darkly, his fingers pressing harder, his voice low and commanding.

“Goddamn, you’re already soaked, aren’t ya? Just from sittin’ in my lap. You like this? Bein' told what to do, bein' my good little girl. You’re gonna take care of me now, huh? That’s your job, isn’t it?”

His hand moved to the button of your jeans, and he popped it open with ease, sliding the zipper down slowly, teasingly, all the while his eyes never left yours.

His fingers dipped inside, brushing against your slick folds, and you let out a soft moan, your hips jerking against his hand.

"That’s it, sweetheart," Joel murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

"You’re gonna be a good little girl and take care of your daddy. You’ve been teasing me long enough. Now it’s time to do your damn job.”

His hand slid lower, fingers finding your clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that had you trembling in his lap. He growled low in his throat, his cock twitching beneath you as he watched you squirm.

"God, you’re fuckin’ perfect,” he muttered, his voice rough. “But this ain’t about you. You’re gonna make me feel good first. That’s what you’re here for, right?”

He gripped your hips again, pulling you down harder, his cock pressing right against your entrance. You could feel the thick, throbbing length of him through his jeans, and it only made you ache for more.

Joel’s eyes darkened as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “Now, be a good girl and give your old man what he wants.”

You bit your lip, nervous and excited as you reached down, your hands trembling slightly as you brushed over the hardness straining beneath his boxers. His cock was thick and heavy in your hand as you pulled him free, the sight of him, so big and ready, making your mouth water.

Joel let out a low groan as you wrapped your fingers around him, your small hand barely able to take him fully. “That’s it, darlin’. Just like that,” he muttered, his hips jerking up slightly into your hand. “Fuckin’ perfect.”

Joel’s eyes darkened as he watched your small hand wrap around his thick, pulsing length.

The sight of it—his cock heavy and leaking in your grip—made something primal snap inside him.

His rough, calloused hands gripped your thighs tightly, holding you in place as you stroked him slowly, his hips jerking up, desperate for more of your touch.

“That’s it, darlin’. Fuck, you got such a small hand, hm? Barely fits around me,” he groaned, his voice low and filled with lust. His head fell back against the chair for a moment, lips parting as he watched you through hooded eyes.

But then, he shifted, grabbing your chin firmly with one hand and pulling your face closer "Now get on those healthy little knees and serve me."

You quickly followed his command.

“My sweet little obedient thing, hm? I want you to lick it. Clean.”

You hesitated for just a second, your heart racing in your chest, but the hunger in his eyes and the way his grip tightened on your chin had you leaning in closer, feeling his gaze burn into you as you knelt between his legs.

You could feel the heat of his cock against your lips before you even touched him, the scent of him intoxicating, thick with arousal.

Joels eyes were glued to the sight of you, looking so innocent yet holding him like you knew exactly what you were doing to him. His lips curled into a filthy, satisfied grin as he stared down at you, that dangerous gleam in his eye growing darker.

"That’s it, sweetheart," he murmured, voice low and dripping with lust.

"You got those pretty little lips all ready for me, don’t ya? Go on now, give your old man what he’s been waiting for."

You hesitated, your body trembling slightly under the weight of his gaze, but the excitement was undeniable.

You leaned forward slowly, your lips barely brushing against the head of his cock, and Joel growled low in his throat, his fingers threading through your hair, guiding you.

“Not like that,” he grunted, his grip tightening. “I want you to suck it. Get your mouth on me—every inch of it. Don’t be shy, baby. I want you to show me how much you wanna take care of your daddy."

Your breath hitched at his words, the intensity of his voice shooting straight through you. His demand was laced with control, and something deep inside you wanted nothing more than to please him.

You opened your mouth wider, wrapping your lips around the swollen head of his cock, letting your tongue swirl over the salty taste of him.

"Yeah, that's it," he growled approvingly.

"Good girl. Use that fuckin' tongue. I want you to lick me clean, just like that. You know how to treat your daddy’s cock, hm? Been thinkin' about it, haven’t you? Bein' my perfect little slut."

The filthy words spilling from his mouth sent a flush of heat through your body, your thighs pressing together as you sank deeper onto his length.

Joel’s hips bucked up slightly, forcing more of him into your mouth, and you could feel his cock twitching as you hollowed your cheeks, sucking him just like he wanted.

“Fuck, you’re so good with that mouth,” he groaned, his head tipping back as he thrust gently into your mouth, watching as your lips stretched around him. "Get it wetter, baby. I wanna see you drool. Let that spit drip down your chin."

You obeyed, sucking harder, letting your saliva coat him until it was dripping from your mouth, soaking his cock. Joel's fingers tightened in your hair, pulling you back for a moment, his cock sliding out of your mouth with a slick, wet sound.

“Look at that mess,” he growled, his voice thick with arousal. "Fuckin’ beautiful. But we ain’t done, darlin'. No, not yet."

He leaned forward slightly, his hand guiding your face closer to his balls.

“Now lick 'em,” he muttered, his voice low and commanding. “I want you to suck on them, baby. Get 'em nice and wet. Go on, clean up every inch of your daddy.”

Your breath caught in your throat at the lewd demand, but you were so far gone, so eager to please, that you didn’t hesitate.

Your tongue flicked out, gently running along the sensitive skin of his balls, and Joel groaned loudly, his body shuddering as you licked and sucked, just like he told you to.

“Good fuckin' girl,” he growled, his voice thick with need.

“You do whatever I tell you, yeah, baby? Such a sweet little thing, always takin' care of me. You know that’s your job, right? To make sure I’m feelin’ real good.”

You nodded, your lips wrapping around one of his balls, sucking gently as you massaged the other with your hand. Joel’s hips jerked slightly, his fingers still tangled in your hair, guiding your movements as he moaned deep in his chest.

"That’s it, baby," he rasped, voice rough. "Suck 'em. Show me how much you wanna be a good girl for your daddy."

Your body was trembling now, the heat between your legs growing unbearable as his filthy praise filled your ears. You sucked harder, letting your tongue swirl around him, your eyes flicking up to meet his.

Joel’s expression was dark, hungry, and the way he looked at you—like you were his to use—made your core clench with need.

He pulled you up suddenly, dragging you onto his lap, your body straddling him, the heat of his cock pressing against your soaked core. His hands gripped your waist tightly, his voice low and menacing as he whispered, "You think you're done, huh? We ain’t even started yet."

His eyes darkened as he looked down between your legs, the slickness of your arousal soaking through your panties. He reached down, his fingers brushing over the damp fabric, and smirked.

"So fuckin' wet already," he muttered. “I bet you’ve been dyin’ for this. You want your daddy to fill that tight little pussy again, hm?”

You whimpered, unable to form words as he pressed his fingers harder against your clit through your panties, teasing you mercilessly. His thumb circled your sensitive spot, making your hips jerk involuntarily, and Joel chuckled darkly.

“Fuckin' needy,” he muttered, pulling your panties to the side, exposing your slick folds. “Look at you, drippin' all over me. You need this cock, yeah, sweet girl?”

You nodded frantically, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps as you felt the head of his cock nudging against your entrance. Joel grinned, that filthy, perverted grin you had come to crave, and slowly guided you down onto him.

As his thick length stretched you, filling you up inch by inch, he groaned loudly, his hands gripping your hips so tightly it almost hurt.

“That’s it, baby. Take every fuckin' inch. You’re mine. This is what you’re good for.”

His voice was rough, commanding, and it only spurred you on as you rode him, your body bouncing on his cock, every thrust sending waves of pleasure through you. Joel’s hands never left your body, guiding your movements, pulling you down harder, deeper.

“You feel my cock deep inside, little girl?” he growled, his voice thick with lust. “You’re fuckin' perfect, baby. So fuckin' tight around me. You’re takin' care of your daddy just like you should.”

Joel's grip on your hips was firm, pulling you down onto his cock with a rough, needy pace that made your breath hitch. 

His body was tense beneath you, and the way his eyes darkened as they roamed over you—your breasts bouncing, your flushed face—made it clear how much he enjoyed watching you fall apart on top of him.

“Look at you, darlin’,” he rasped, his voice thick with arousal, rough around the edges. “Bouncin' on this old man's cock like you were made for it. You love it, baby? Bet you’ve never had anything like this, huh? Some young boy couldn’t fuck you the way I can. You need a real man, don’t ya? Someone who knows how to handle a sweet little thing like you.”

He leaned forward, his lips brushing against the soft skin of your chest before his mouth latched onto your nipple, sucking it hard while his other hand squeezed the other breast, rough but possessive.

His teeth grazed your sensitive skin, and the sharp mix of pain and pleasure sent jolts of electricity through your body.

“You got these perfect fuckin' tits,” Joel groaned against your skin, his breath hot, words dripping with filth.

“So young, so tight. You know what you're doin' when you wear those little tops around me, don’t ya? Teasin' me with this sweet body, just beggin’ to be fucked.”

Your moans filled the room as Joel’s tongue flicked across your nipple, his hand moving to your clit, his thumb pressing in slow, rough circles as he worked your body in tandem with the deep thrusts of his cock.

You could feel every inch of him stretching you, filling you completely, and it was overwhelming.

"Fuck, you’re so fuckin' tight," Joel grunted, thrusting deeper, his voice a low growl in your ear.

"This old man’s cock is fuckin' you so good, huh? Bet you never thought you’d be so desperate for someone like me. You need this—need me to fuck you the way no one else can. Tell me you love it, baby. Tell me how much you love havin' daddy’s cock inside you."

You gasped, your body shaking as his words only pushed you closer to the edge.

His hand gripping your ass, guiding you down harder, faster, as you rode him, the slick sound of your arousal making his grin widen even more.

He shifted his hips beneath you, hitting that perfect spot inside with every thrust, and you couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped your lips.

Joel’s grip tightened on your hips as he grinned up at you, watching the way your body shook with each rough thrust.

“Goddamn, you’re squeezin' me so tight,” he muttered, his thumb pressing harder on your clit.

“Look at how fuckin' wet you are. You’re drippin' all over me. I bet no one else has ever made you feel like this before, hm? Not like your daddy.”

You couldn’t answer—couldn’t find the words through the haze of pleasure that was overwhelming you.

But Joel didn’t care. He could see it in the way your body responded to him, in the way you moved on top of him, desperate for more.

“That’s it, baby,” he growled, his voice dark and filthy as he thrust up into you, hard and deep. “You’re gonna come for me, little one? Gonna come all over this cock, like the good little girl you are. You love havin' daddy take care of you, love bein' used like this.”

His words sent a shockwave of heat through you, your body trembling as you neared your release. Joel’s thumb circled your clit faster, his cock driving into you with brutal precision, hitting every sensitive spot inside you.

“You’re gonna take every fuckin' inch, baby,” he muttered, his voice thick with arousal. “You’re gonna take everything I give you. You want me to fill you up, don’t ya? You want daddy to come inside that tight little pussy.”

You moaned, your body shaking as you rode him harder, the pressure building inside you, every word pushing you closer to the edge. Joel’s grip on your hips was bruising, his breath hot against your ear as he growled, “Tell me you want it. Tell me you want this old man to fill you up.”

“Please, daddy,” you whimpered, your voice barely a whisper. “I need it. I need you to come inside me.”

Joel grinned, his eyes dark with satisfaction as his hips slammed up into you, his cock throbbing inside your tight heat. “That’s my girl. You’re fuckin’ perfect, baby. You love this cock. You love bein' filled up by me.”

With one final, deep thrust, Joel buried himself inside you, groaning as his cock twitched, his hot release spilling into you.

His grip on your hips tightened as he came, his breath ragged, his body shaking beneath you. The sensation of him filling you sent you over the edge, your own release crashing through you as your walls clenched around him, moaning as your body trembled, overwhelmed by the intensity of your orgasm.

Joel’s chest rose and fell in heavy, ragged breaths beneath you, his cock still buried deep inside as his hips gave one final lazy thrust, pushing the last of his release deeper into your tight, slick heat. His hands never left your body, sliding from your hips up your sides, gripping you possessively, like he couldn’t get enough of the feel of you wrapped around him.

“Fuck, baby,” he muttered, his voice thick with satisfaction, low and raspy in your ear. “Took it all inside, hm? So fuckin’ good for me. You were made for this—made to take every bit of me.”

He leaned back in the chair, eyes dark and hazy as he looked up at you, still straddling him, your body trembling slightly from the intensity of what just happened.

His rough hands slid up to your breasts again, squeezing them possessively, his thumbs brushing over your nipples as he let out a low, satisfied grunt.

“You feel that, darlin’?” Joel whispered, his breath still hot against your neck, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “You’re full of me now, all stuffed with my cum. That’s what you wanted, huh? Bein' filled up by your old man, just like a good girl.”

You shuddered slightly, his words sending a lingering spark through your body. It wasn’t just the way he took you—it was the way he owned you with every filthy word, every possessive touch.

And even now, after everything, he wasn’t letting you go. His hands continued to roam your body, lazy and deliberate, as if reminding you that you were his.

Joel chuckled lowly, almost smug, the sound vibrating through his chest as his fingers trailed up your spine, making you shiver.

“You do your Job so well, darlin’,” he said, voice filled with dark satisfaction, like he was proud of you, like you’d done exactly what you were meant to.

“Gotta say, this old man didn’t think he had it in him anymore. But fuck, you make me feel like a man again. Ain't no one else who could take care of me like you do.”

His fingers traced idle patterns over your skin as he kept you close, his cock still warm and softening inside you. He grinned, looking you up and down, his eyes gleaming with the satisfaction of knowing how much control he had over you.

“You thought you were just gonna come here and help me out, take care of the house, huh?” Joel’s voice was teasing now, low and gravelly.

“But you’ve been takin' care of me in ways no one else could. Every time I see you, I wanna fuck you. Can’t help it, baby. You’ve got me fuckin' addicted.”

You shifted on top of him, still feeling the heat between your legs, the mess of him inside you, and you let out a soft whimper as his cock twitched in response.

Joel chuckled darkly, his hands gripping your ass firmly, pulling you down against him again, keeping you pressed tight against his body.

“You ain’t goin' anywhere,” he muttered, his tone possessive. “You belong to me. You know that, right? There’s no one else who’s gonna fuck you like this, make you feel like this.”

His words hung in the air, thick and heavy, and you knew he meant them.

Joel wasn’t just some old man you were assigned to look after anymore—he’d taken something from you, claimed you, and now you were his in every sense of the word.

He grinned up at you, his eyes still filled with that dark hunger, even after everything. His hands slid up to your waist again, pulling you down for another lazy grind, his cock still nestled inside you.

The sensation made your body tremble again, and Joel noticed, his grin widening.

“You keep takin' care of me like this, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a low rasp.

“And I’ll make sure you’re never wantin’ for anything else. You’ll always have me to fuck you, fill you up just like you need. You like that, don’t ya? Bein’ mine, lettin’ me use this tight young little body whenever I want.”

You nodded weakly, still trying to catch your breath, your body pliant under his grip. He chuckled again, a deep, satisfied sound that made your core clench around him, even as you sat there, exhausted from the intensity of it all.

“That’s my good girl,” Joel whispered, his voice a low growl. “Always doin' what you’re told. Now, you keep sittin' on daddy’s cock for a while longer. Let me enjoy how fuckin' perfect you feel.”

And so you stayed there, Joel’s hands still possessive on your body, his cock still nestled inside you as the minutes passed.

You knew this was how things were going to be for a while—him using you whenever he wanted, taking what he needed. But the truth was, you couldn’t get enough of it either.

The way he made you feel, the filthy dominance in his voice, the way his rough hands claimed every inch of you—it was intoxicating.

You were hooked, just like him.

You shifted on his lap, your breath finally steadying as the intensity of the moment began to settle. But even as your body started to relax, you couldn’t shake the feeling of Joel’s hands still possessively gripping your waist, holding you there, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

A small, teasing smile tugged at your lips as you looked down at him, his cock still buried inside you, the heat of his body pressing against yours.

“You might like keeping me here all day, old man,” you murmured, your voice soft but playful, “but now I need to get up, cook, and get you your meds.”

Joel raised an eyebrow, that familiar smirk spreading across his face. “My meds, huh?” he muttered, clearly amused, his voice still gravelly and low. “Hell, I think this right here’s better than any meds they could give me.”

His hands tightened on your hips for a moment, pulling you down one last time, making sure you felt the last bit of his cock buried deep before he finally let you move.

“But go on, sweetheart,” he said, his tone a mix of teasing and command. “You do what you gotta do. I’ll be right here, waitin’ for you to come back and take care of me again.”

You rolled your eyes, gently pushing yourself off his lap, feeling the mess of him still inside you as you stood up. As you turned to head toward the kitchen, Joel's hand shot out and smacked your ass, hard enough to make you yelp in surprise.

The sharp sound of his palm connecting with your skin echoed through the room, making your breath hitch, and you couldn’t help but grin, your body responding despite yourself.

“Still fuckin' got it, don’t I, sweet girl?” Joel growled, his smirk widening as his eyes roamed over your body while you walked away, his gaze dark and lingering.

“And don’t take too long, darlin’. I plan to have that sweet pussy on my tongue ‘til I pass out.”

You glanced over your shoulder, flashing him a playful smirk, your hips swaying a little more, knowing he was watching every move.

“You’ll survive a few minutes, won’t you? You are still the strong, stubborn old man you claim to be.”

Joel chuckled, low and rough, leaning back in his chair, the smug look on his face unwavering. “Yeah, yeah. Get that pretty little ass in the kitchen. But you keep me waitin’ too long…” His voice dropped to a dangerous murmur.

“And I’ll be comin’ after you to drag you back here myself.”

You could feel Joel’s eyes on you the entire time as you walked away, that smoldering, hungry gaze burning into your back.

The heat between you two was almost unbearable, thick and heavy, making every step feel slower than it should.

Joel might be older, but the way he looked at you, the way he commanded every moment, made it clear that age hadn’t dulled his hunger—especially when it came to you.

And you knew exactly what he wanted.

Hell, you didn’t even need his words to know. He had a taste for you, an obsession he couldn’t shake. It was the same routine nearly every night.

He’d pull you into his lap, his strong hands gripping your thighs, his voice a low growl as he told you to strip down because he wasn’t going to bed until he had your sweet cunt on his tongue.

You’d try to get things done around the house, but it was useless. Joel was insatiable.

“Come here, darlin’,” he’d say, like clockwork, his lips curling into that filthy grin. 

“You know I’m not sleepin’ till I’ve had my fill.” And before you could even respond, his mouth would be on you, licking and sucking until your body shook with pleasure, his deep moans vibrating against your sensitive skin.

Just last night, you had barely made it through the doorway when he had pulled you to the bed, laying you down and spreading your legs before you could even catch your breath. "Goddamn, baby," he’d muttered between long, slow licks, "I’ll never get enough of this pussy." 

And he hadn’t stopped until you were trembling, spent, your fingers gripping his hair as he kept going, like he couldn’t pull himself away.

You knew tonight would be no different. His need for you was constant, his desire always burning just below the surface.

And, truth be told, you loved it. The way he made you feel—like you were the only thing that mattered in the world—had you hurrying to get back to him.

You craved the way he devoured you, the way he worshipped you with his mouth, as much as he craved you.

As you finished up in the kitchen, your heart pounded with anticipation. You knew Joel was waiting, his eyes still lingering on the thought of burying his face between your thighs.

You hurried, eager to crawl back into his lap, knowing exactly what was coming next—his rough, possessive hands and that filthy mouth, reminding you again just how much he couldn’t get enough of you.

And, if you were being honest, you craved it just as much—craved the way he claimed every inch of you with his cock, fingers or mouth - making you feel like you were the only thing that could ever satisfy him.

Your favorite old pervert.

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

I fear.... I want him biblically....

I`d LOVE to write many dirty scenes with these two, would y'all like that?

Stay tuned - thank you so much for reading and I would love to read your opinions!!

xoxo

[sweetnans]

You've been fighting. A lot.

Lately, it's been more bantering and spatting at each other than being the couple you used to be.

It started with Katsuki staying in the agency more. There were multiple attacks from villains, and the paperwork was endless.

Then you decided that it was good for you to pick up more shifts. You started part-time, and now you were picking double shifts that landed on his days off.

Days and weeks passed by where you hadn't seen each other in the frequency you did before.

Till death tear us apart

The inside part of your wedding ring was a constant reminder that death wasn't breaking up your marriage. It was, in fact, the time that wasn't being fair with the two of you.

One night, when you and him magically had the same schedule and reunited at home for dinner, everything blew off.

It started like a subtle conversation. How was your day? Where have you been? Tell me about your week... and then boom. The bomb exploded right under your nose.

You were crying because you missed him, he was angry because he missed you too and he felt like the problem was leaking in between his fingers and he couldn't do anything to stop it.

Everything was a big fat mess.

"I didn't want this for us," you said, grabbing your head with both of your hands. Tears dripping from your face to the mahogany table.

"Me neither!" He was pacing in front of the table from one side to another.

He felt like it was the end of it, and it was the first time in years that he felt scared. He didn't want to lose you ever.

"Then what do we do?" You whispered. Your throat clogged because of the pain. You loved the man in front of you, every piece of him.

"Fix this fucking thing I guess" he shrugged finally stopping his feet. He was hurt for seeing you there broken because of him.

"You don't have to say it like that," you muttered, lowering your head, busy staring at the stains of your tears in the wood.

The whispers, the cracking in your voice, your face stained with tears. No, he wouldn't be that kind of man. That type of husband.

He promised the day he decided to be yours forever, long before you sealed your relationship at the altar, that he would do everything to make you entirely happy.

Do you need more time? Fine, he would reduce his hours at the agency. Do you need him to be more romantic? You got it, he would buy you flowers and chocolates. God, he would do anything for you. You just have to name it.

You were worth fighting for.

He stomped quickly to your side, lowering his body and kneeling by your side. He grabbed your hand in between his hands, and with careful caresses, he made your eyes meet with his.

"Shit, sweatheart, you know who I am, and I know you know that I've never felt something like this for anyone. It's just you and me in our world, " he pronounced, no mumbling or half grunts. He was actually speaking at you with his entire heart. "I'm yours completely, and I would do anything for deserving being by your side. I know I have to change some things and I'll do it because I want you and only you"

The only sound that came out of your mouth were hiccups. You were a sobing mess. You needed to change things too, but looking at Katsuki so eager and willing to make your relationship and marriage work gave you the enough courage to actually make a change and to never forget what you have in front of you, an amazing man with a heart of gold.

[micer2012]

a reflection on MatPat's plagiarism

Hello, my name is Della, or micer2012, and 2 years ago Game Theory plagiarized three Tumblr posts of mine, making a video that now holds almost 6 million views.

My posts explaining his plagiarism made their rounds on Reddit, Tumblr and Twitter, but despite the Hermits and Pooka commenting on it (generally in support of me or saying they don’t know enough details about the situation to say either way), MatPat and his team have never owned up to anything, and no mention of my name is present on the video. The one Reddit post they made denying it (which was made before my detailed takedown, which they have never responded to (though the mods on the r/GameTheorists Reddit were kind and made sure it stayed up)) didn’t even mention me by name, just referring to me as “a tumblr user”. (Though one of the screenshotted comments in the body of the post does say my name)

This experience was baffling, but it’s overall had a positive impact on my life. r/Hermitcraft gave me a Golden Apple Award (post of the year, 2021). My inbox was filled with excited fans, wanting to ask me questions or pose their own theories, far more than the hate I got. (Though the hate I got from Game Theory fans was VERY funny. I wondered why none of them gave me shit about saying “MatPat misgendered Evil Xisuma” before realizing none of them read that far into the post.)

And getting on a more personal, and much more important note, I met most of my current online friends through this, including my partner. It helped me grow closer with my irl friends as well and gave me an entertaining story that I tell whenever I have the chance. It was one of the first things in my life that really made me feel like my talents, my autistic hyperfocusing and analyzing of things I love, could be valuable. Useful. Exploitable. It blew my mind that MatPat thought an autistic kid’s ramblings about a Minecraft Youtube joke character were good enough to steal. To put an audible sponsorship on. To get 6 million views off of.

And that’s why I’m writing this post, this update years later. As you might’ve been able to guess, Hbomberguy’s Youtube video on plagiarism reopened this wound. It was really hard for me to sit through, it took days of pausing and taking breaks, because I had experienced everything he was talking about firsthand. 

In my 10 page long takedown post, I wrote about how his rewording of my sentences made him say things that were incorrect, just like Filip did. The content farm production style that made big companies like Cinemassacre take one creator (AVGN/MatPat) and turn him and his content into a brand, a voice that reads out scripts by other people with other opinions/theories, is a history shared with Game Theory. What really hit me was Harris talking about how big creators only do this to people they think they can get away with doing it to. How they view their victims as lesser, as not deserving of their words, repackaging them as their own to give to an audience that can gain from hearing them, but deserves better than to have to listen to the original victim.

That’s the thing, I 100% think a video version of my theory to expose to a bigger community than “Evil Xisuma Fans on Tumblr” is a great idea!! Near the end of the video Harris talks about how video adaptations of things could be a great market, even an accessibility tool, and I completely feel that about my posts. I wrote them quickly assuming the reader was someone well versed on Evil Xisuma lore, after not even watching most of the CarnEvil series, and the diagrams I made to explain them are even less comprehensible. Harris makes a joke that I completely agree with, 

“I’m sure some of my videos would do very well if someone translated them into English.”

I don’t think I would’ve ever made my posts if I didn’t have autism, and a special fixation on Evil Xisuma and Hermitcraft. I made them because I felt the character was being done an injustice, and because I wanted to share with other superfans this theory that might explain it away. I do think that MatPat plagiarizing me was ableist. I used to wonder a lot if this would’ve happened if my posts were articulated better, if they had been peer reviewed, if the posts themselves had been spread to a wider audience before MatPat made his video. At one point when the discourse was fresh (before I had the time to write out my 10 page rebuttal), a bigger YouTuber (100k subs at the time) messaged me and started talking on Discord, interested in possibly making a video on the discourse, but I think my style of typing and general enthusiasm drove him away. You can tell by a single look at my blog (or my original 3 posts!) that I don’t usually type like this. This post you’re reading now has been peer reviewed and edited, and took me hours to format correctly. That video could’ve been huge, the entire outcome of this MatPat situation would probably be much different.

I also used to stress a lot about “being the one who ruined Evil Xisuma’s story”. If you didn’t know, to me S8 Evil Xisuma’s story got wrapped up pretty quickly and unsatisfying (in my personal autistic opinion). (though this might’ve been due to s8 being experimental and ending early with moon big) There was no real culmination of the plot points and arcs going on, and I don’t want to blame myself, but when Xisuma said on stream (when the MatPat thing was first going on) that he didn’t want to focus on the discourse or draw more attention to it, it makes a lot of sense to me that he just wanted to wrap it all up as quickly as possible. For a while I beat myself up about it, of ruining the story of this character I love, but it’s not my fault. If anyone’s, it’s MatPats, but I don’t think it’s useful to just blame someone else. That’s how the story ended up going, and that’s fine. This is Evil Xisuma we’re talking about, their inconsistent lore is what made them such an interesting character. And notably, Pooka made an animation with an awesome culmination of Jeff, the Dreamer, Evil Xisuma, and his own sona’s story, and it makes me so happy to watch. Whatever Pooka does is of course his own choice, but I’m glad he got to give this personal story his own ending (if it is an ending, and not just the start of a new chapter!). 

Typing this all out and getting it off my chest has made me feel a lot better. For a while I wanted to make my OWN video essay about Evil Xisuma’s lore and CarnEvil’s lore, actually going episode by episode to explain it instead of just assuming you knew as much about Evil Xisuma as I did. That idea is still not off the table, but MCYT isn’t something I’m that into right now. Maybe if something else comes out about Evil Xisuma I’ll get back on it, but for now I’m fine with letting that go. But I want to make other videos, share other theories and analysis… if I have the freetime I’d love to make YouTube videos, and if I don’t have the time I’ll continue posting to my tumblr and infodumping to my friends. Apparently my infodumping is valuable enough “content” to steal! Writing this out has made me feel a lot better though, I’m really glad I got it out.

If anyone ever wants to talk to me about the things I’m obsessed with, or reach out to me as a source in a bigger discussion about Game Theory or other channels, my inbox is more than welcome :] Thank you for reading! 

Sincerely, a tumblr user.

[heesdreamer]

HALF RETURN

PAIRING ➩ jay x reader

SUMMARY ➩ your small towns yearly fall festival was your biggest pride and joy but getting your friends to help volunteer was nearly impossible. luckily one of them was stupid enough and too secretly inlove with you to help himself from offering.

WC ➩ 15.6k

AUTHORS NOTE ➩ Surprise! It’s been a long time since I’ve sat down and wrote something that I actually enjoyed but this was a lot of fun to write and hopefully the start of me coming back on here in the future. It’s not my most exciting or hot and heavy piece of work but if you’re looking for a light fluffy small town read then I really hope you enjoy and let me know what you think. Happy fall everybody and thanks for your patience and support as always. NOT AT ALL PROOFREAD

The cold bite of fall had always been your favorite time of year, finding it easiest to romanticize both its pros and its cons.

Which was something you did with just about everything and everyone you ever encountered, making them larger than life as a character in your story before they were leaving and their starring chapter was turning the page with them.

So it was your favorite time of year for many reasons, the realistic ones like the fact it was the slowest months of work and you got more paid time off than you probably deserved, but also because it was so terribly romantic in all the sniffly nose and itchy sweater goodness that came along with it.

That’s why it was no surprise to the people around you that you were constantly surrounding yourself with fall activities and hobbies. Your small town didn’t offer much, mainly known for biking through the winding roads of the mountains and the sleek dark concrete that always seemed to be wet because of the constant rainfall. It did, however, have a yearly fall festival that you had been volunteering at since you were in middle school.

You’d always heard people growing up who talked about wanting to get out of your hometown, dreamily describing big cities they’d seen on vacations and how much different the world was past the mountains and trees.

You never felt the longing to escape something this beautiful and rare and while you figured the world outside was as amazing as they described, you preferred where you had grown up. It was quiet and easy to memorize, everybody knew everybody and treated each other like family so nobody stole from others or treated them poorly. It was easy to love and, in your mind, easy to stay in as you grew old and had your own family.

Despite your own strong feelings towards your hometown, your friends probably wanted to escape it more than the average person.

You’d spent more than a few dozen hangouts laying in various basements across old couches and listening to them talk about their dreams, dreams that would take them hundreds of miles away from this town and hundreds of miles away from you.

That didn’t stop you from excitedly rushing over to the assigned hangout house for the weekend, your bike tires going so fast they were kicking up mud onto your bare legs as you pushed your thighs past your limit to peddle.

You were hurriedly hopping off once you caught sight of the familiar house, leaning your bike against the chipped paint on the side of it and quickly kicking off your dirty shoes as you greeted the mother of one of your best friends. She wasn’t at all thrown off by your quick entry or the fact you were disappearing into the basement before she could respond or tell you to clean off your dirty legs, more than used to your group of friends coming and going as the sun set.

The sounds of your pounding footsteps didn’t even grab the attention of the group of people hanging out in the basement, only one looking up to watch you as you stumbled in.

“I have great news.” You announced with a large smile, hands extended towards them to really drive forward the importance of your words .

Jay, one of your lifelong friends and the one who had watched you as you entered, raised his eyebrows in question and sat up slightly, a direct opposite of the others who didn’t even bother to acknowledge you yet.

“Mrs. Potter broke her leg.” You squeaked out the news and clenched your hands into excited fist, your smile only faltering when Sunghoon was turning to look at you with a confused glare and Heeseung stopped plucking at the guitar strings he was tuning to give you a look of bewilderment. The room fell silent and you dropped your hands against your sides in upset.

“I know she can be a bit of a nag but is that really something to celebrate?” Jungwon had an eyebrow cocked as he looked at you finally but you could see a hint of amusement on his face.

You were dramatically groaning and sulking your way over to the couch, flopping down onto the spot next to Jay and failing to fully notice the way he was tensing up for a second and then awkwardly clearing his throat when your leg brushed against his. You wrote it off as him being weary of the mud on your legs getting onto his pants, giving him a quick sorry glance before scooting over a tad.

“Of course I’m not happy about her broken leg.” You shot Jungwon a glare for his purposefully wrong assumption and he gave you a smile, eyebrows raising and hiding behind his bangs for a second. “But since she’s injured, may she heal quickly, that means there’s an open job at the fair.”

The finality of the news drew out immediate reactions from your friends. Presenting in the form of an eye roll from Jungwon as he immediately lost interest in the conversation, a disbelieving laugh from Sunghoon and an apologetic smile from Heeseung.

“Sorry Y/N but I helped you last year.” He was shaking his head and plucking at the strings again, happy he had an excuse and the others didn’t.

“That was six years ago.” You deadpanned at him, remembering all too well considering how terrible of a volunteer the tall boy had been. It wasn’t long before he was being asked to step down by the couple who ran it so his position could be filled by somebody who didn’t let the popcorn machine overflow or hand out free prizes to any kid that sniffled and gave him their best begging puppy eyes.

He just shrugged at your correction and your frown deepened despite the fact you’d already figured they’d say no considering they’d been doing so for almost a decade. You had hoped the guilt from Mrs. Potters injury would have been enough to convince at least one of the four boys.

“You’ve been asking us for all this time and we’ve never accepted. Why not ask Jake from the soccer team, doesn’t he have the hots for you?” Sunghoon was speaking in a bored tone as he relayed the information, not paying enough attention to notice the way you froze up and stared at him in confusion.

“Dude…” Heeseung trailed off as he shot his friend an annoyed stare, stretching out his leg so he could kick the boys knee in a form of scolding.

“Jake likes me?” You sat up straighter and stared at the oldest boy, trusting his word over the other threes. “Like Jake Sim? How long have you guys known about this?”

They exchanged guilty looks between themselves and you turned to look at the boy closest to you for answers instead.

Jay had always been the most mature out of your little group, even when you were all kids pushing each other around on the playground. He seemed like the oldest at times even though Heeseung took that role, strikingly alert and calm when situations caused everyone else to panic. You definitely weren’t the closest though friendship wise considering he wasn’t the biggest talker, more likely to stand in the corner and take small sips of his drink than actually engage in your loud conversations.

You always figured this was because he didn’t have any friends outside of your circle. The other boys had some more casual buddies, take Jake Sim for example, but Jay pretty much stuck to himself if he wasn’t with the four of you.

He had a certain energy that you weren’t used to seeing growing up, something about him being different than the others and that was including you and your friends. Even his look stood out, jet black hair with piercing eyes that only looked more intimidating considering he primarily wore dark clothes and a hint of smudged eyeliner.

Most people in town, and school growing up, found his presence overly intimidating and you’d heard your fair share of whispers about him and your group of friends.

His attempts to be seen as scary and keep people away from him never was turned onto you and you’d dealt with a lot of teasing from the others boy, making fun of Jay for having a soft spot for you or pouting that he let you do things he always refused to do for them. He’d glare at them until they shut up and moved on or he’d offer a soft shrug, followed by a hint of a smile when you giggled lightly at his lack of denial.

That’s why you were turning to face him now with wide and begging eyes, leaning against his side and wrapping your hand around his hoodie clothed arm to make sure his attention was on you, despite the fact it always seemed to be anyways.

“Did you hear Jake saying he likes me Jay?” Your voice was sickeningly sweet and you could hear the other boys groaning in disgust at your attempts to butter up their friend.

It didn’t seem to be working this time considering he was just staring at you with a blank expression, gaze dropping to where your hand was holding him for just a second like he was considering something before he was shrugging softly. You pouted again at his lack of response despite knowing your friend was a man of few words.

“He wouldn’t tell Jay anyways doofus, he knows that he-“ Heeseung was laughing as he started to speak and explain something that was abruptly cut off by Jungwon aggressively chucking the magazine he was flipping through in his direction.

The older boy let out a yelp and held his hands up in surrender. You looked back at Jay confused and waiting for him to fill in the blanks, even more lost when you noticed him glaring at Heeseung with a slightly fearful expression under the anger.

You suddenly remembered you were still holding onto his arm and you gently squeezed it to try and bring his attention for you, grateful it worked when he was awkwardly meeting your gaze again and sighing softly. You cocked an eyebrow in silent conversation as you waited for him to tell you what they were being suspicious about, grateful that in the background Heeseung had started to strum at his guitar again and the other two begun to talk about nonsense.

“Do you think Jake likes me enough to help me with the fair?” Your voice was a low whisper as you stared at him, leaning in slightly and missing the way his jaw clenched at your question.

“You know me and Jake aren’t friends Y/N, I wouldn’t know anything about it.” He was overwhelmingly glad your friends weren’t paying attention anymore because he knew for a fact his voice had taken on that extra sweet tone he only used with you, meeting your volume and also whispering softly despite the fact you both didn’t need to.

You were pouting again and not moving away from his face, so busy in your thoughts you once again failed to notice the way his eyes were dropping down to your pushed out lips that were closer to his than usual.

He knew you were just being dramatic, something you commonly were regardless of the situation, but he couldn’t stand seeing the expression on your face or the disappointment in your eyes. He was taking in a big breathy sigh, getting your attention again as you squeezed his arm and gave him another wide eyed and hopeful look.

“But you don’t need to ask him anyways because I’ll volunteer with you.”

You were breaking out into a wide smile at the same exact time the other boys in the room were making shocked and angry exclamations, being drowned out by your excited shriek, you closed the distance between you and Jay and leapt forward to give him a hug, pressing his back against the armrest of the couch and practically falling into his lap out of excitement.

“Dude what are you talking about? What about band practice?” Sunghoon’s annoyed tone was seeping through your happiness and piercing it with a knife of realization causing you to sit up slightly and look down at Jay in confusion.

“He’s right, what are you going to do about practice?” You were pouting at him again but slightly above him now considering you were still halfway in his lap with your arms wrapped around his neck. You watched the way his ears were turning red the longer you stayed in that position but you assumed he was just flustered from his plans colliding. “I can ask Jake if you’re busy it’s really no big deal.”

You heard a pained grunt from behind you and turned to see Sunghoon cradling his knee with a hurt expression, you followed his line of sight to see Jungwon glaring viciously at him.

“Sunghoon’s an idiot Y/N don’t listen to him, Jay is completely free to help you out with the fair.” Jungwon had taken on a sickeningly sweet tone and your nose scrunched up in disgust at the sound of it, looking between the four boys suspiciously.

None of them were meeting your gaze full out but you tried to ignore how weird they were all being about the situation, more excitement creeping back up at the confirmation you’d have help with the fair, especially since it was Jay who was miles more mature than the rest of them. You were squeezing him back into a hug with another happy squeal and he returned it weakly, eyeing Jungwon viciously over your shoulder.

——

You’d spend most of the following Monday morning getting ready for the first day of setting up the fair, tightly wrapping your scarf around your neck and settling your ear muffs just loose enough so you’d still be able to hear while avoiding the cold chill as it got later in the day.

Your morning hot chocolate was abandoned on the kitchen sink when you heard the soft bells chiming from outside your house, typically occupied by numerous other louder ringings but you knew who it was immediately judging by its gentle sound.

Looking out your living room window confirmed your suspicions seeing Jay sitting on his bike at the end of your drive way and staring down at his hands. He was picking at his fingers, a habit he’d adapted after the callouses from his guitar started to form more often.

Your fist was banging on the thick glass roughly, a smile on your face building when he jump slightly on his bike seat and looked up towards your direction with a startled expression. You waved at him and his shoulders released a little bit of tension, turning your hand over and fanning it towards you, silently instructing him to come inside.

He was hesitating for a second before you saw him gently lowering his bike down onto your front yard, bouncing in your stride as you went to open the door for him.

“I figured you’d want some cocoa before you were stuck in the cold all day.” You were quickly explaining your invitation inside to him as soon as you swung the wooden door open, he’d barely gotten up the steps and gave you a surprised look before nodding swiftly in agreement and coming inside.

You walked back to the kitchen with him in tow and tried to ignore the weird nervous feeling building in your stomach. You’d been alone with Jay countless times so you hadn’t thought much about it but the more you reflected back on it the more you realized you’d mainly sat in awkward silence for short durations waiting for the others to come back and ease the tension.

Pouring the steaming hot chocolate into a new mug for him, you told yourself to not take it personally.

Jay had always been on the quieter side and you knew it had nothing to do with you, as far as you were concerned. This was confirmed a bit when you glanced over your shoulder to see him awkwardly standing against the wall near the doorway, watching you as you poured the drinks but quickly diverting his attention around the room when you made eye contact.

You laughed softly, handling the hot handles carefully as you turned slowly, nudging your chin towards the living room so he understood where you were heading as you walked past him.

“Thank you again for helping me Jay.” You were speaking in a low voice as you sat on the couch, leaning over to hand him his drink considering he sat an entire cushion away from you. “I know you didn’t necessarily want to.”

He wasn’t responding out loud, just give you a soft nod of his head and looking down at the cup of hot chocolate awkwardly, twiddling his thumbs around the mugs handle and shifting in his spot on the couch. A frown was instinctively forming on your face at his silence and you wondered for a second if you should make up some excuse to free him of his responsibilities, maybe tell him you’d actually found somebody else to help out.

But then he was glancing at you and the corner of his mouth turned up just enough for you to notice and you felt better, a wide grin breaking out on yours.

“Oh.” Your eyes widened suddenly as you remembered something you’d gotten for him as a thank you, quickly telling him you’d be right back and rushing up the stairs to your bedroom, leaving him on the couch.

You returned swiftly with the fabric in your hands to see him sitting tensely in the same spot, waiting to see what you’d gotten so excited about. His eyebrows raised when you approached holding the long string of material and you smiled more at his clear hesitance, sitting directly next to him on the couch and turning to face him.

“What is that thing?” He was questioning in a low tone but you could hear the humor in the question, clearly amused by the monstrosity you were holding.

“I’ve taken up crocheting recently.” You explained to him with a smile, stretching out the clothing in your hands to show him exactly what it was you were gifting him. “I figured I’d make you a scarf so you didn’t get too cold helping me. It even matches mine.”

Your excitement was clear despite the fact it clearly didn’t match your store bought white scarf. The black fabric was lumpy and awkward, random strings sticking out in places they weren’t meant to be and barely forming a straight enough line to properly be a scarf.

Jay couldn’t have cared less about how the gift looked, he was flushed in the face just due to the fact you’d chosen to make him it in the first place. He figured you would have done it for whoever agreed to help you and he imagined you’d be gifting them all a lot of hand made things if the hobby managed to actually stick, but your smile when you shifted towards him more and indicated you wanted to put it on him was a gift enough in itself.

He watched your face closely as you delicately wrapped it around his neck, crossing the ends so it wouldn’t slip off easily or open up.

You were meeting his gaze for half a second and giving him a proud smile before a bright flash from the side of you was startling you both, jumping away from each other and widening the distance you hadn’t even realized was closing. You turned your head quickly to see what had made the interruption and a low groan pushed past your lips when you saw your mother standing there with her polaroid camera.

“I’m sorry! You two just looked so cute matching together.” She was giving you a sheepish grin as she poked her head out from behind the blocky camera, eyes teasing and glancing between both of you.

You glanced at Jay to see he had completely tensed up again, jaw tight as he avoided looking at you and stared towards your mother before going back to picking at his rough hands.

She wasn’t exactly wrong about the two of you matching, the scarves being the main point of focus but it didn’t help that Jay was wearing his typical head to two black clothing and you’d gone for a lightly colored white and tan pallet today, so perfectly opposite it almost looked intentional.

“It’s nice to see you as always Jay, it’s been a while since you’ve come around.” Your mothers tone was sweet as she spoke to him but you could see the curiosity on her face, causing you to quickly stand from the couch and butt in.

“Thanks mom but we really have to get going, can’t be late on the first day.” You gave her a tight smile and instinctively reached your hand backwards for Jay to take it.

It was left empty for a few seconds and you glanced over your shoulder to see him staring at it with confusion before he was setting his untouched mug down and clasping his rough hand in yours. You tugged him forward and he made a small shocked noise as you dragged him out of the house, listening to your mom call out wishing the two of you good luck with the fair.

You both stayed silent as he picked his bike up from off the wet grass and waited for you to unlock yours, your hands moving fast to switch the numbers and remove it from the rickety old piece of wood your mother called a handrail despite barely being stable enough for a twig to lean on it let alone a human.

Suddenly you felt an emotion you rarely did, embarrassment flooding through you as your neck got hotter and hotter under your scarf.

You found yourself wondering what Jay thought of the state of your house even though all the boys had been there over a dozen times and you’d never once considered picking up the messes your mom made in a rush or raking the pile of leaves and twigs surrounding your old porch.

Almost everyone in town was around the same class in terms of wealth and status, with the small exception of families like Heeseung’s who could afford weekly maintenance on their yards and a fully finished basement with little risk of flooding, but he was very generous with his extra space and would slyly cover lunches and treats without making a big deal about it.

You’d surprisingly never been to Jay’s house and you weren’t sure the other boys had been either.

He always insisted on walking home or being dropped off in the center of town claiming he had a ride on the way without giving too much information. You’d see Sunghoon, who was your usual driver, push it a few times but the uncomfortable look on the older boys face made you take a mental note to not pry for more details yourself.

You sighed when the lock finally popped up and glanced up just enough to see him still watching you patiently, not bothering to make snide remarks about your speed or rush you like your other friends might’ve.

“Sorry about my mom.” You started speaking once you pushed your bike over to where he was standing with his, both of you rolling them out of the driveway and down onto the empty street. The potholes were full of the brown rain water and specs of gravel here and there made it a bit risky to go too fast on your bike but you mounted it anyways.

He didn’t reply directly other than a shake of his head that indicated he saw no issue with it but the silence was killing you and you waited until his bike was steadily riding next to yours before speaking again.

“She’s just so overbearing sometimes and it’s totally embarrassing oh don’t worry she won’t do anything with that photo, I’m not even sure the camera fully works I think it’s just for the effect.” You were definitely rambling but it wasn’t out of character for you to be filling silence with nonsense and excited monologues.

“Your mom is nice.” He was talking suddenly and it indirectly cut off your next stream of verbal thoughts, surprised at the fact he had actually added to the conversation instead of just giving you soft nods and listening. “Atleast from what I can tell.”

You were staring at him with your mouth parted but only for a few seconds so you didn’t run into anything, nodding your head and swapping roles as you fell silent. You ignored the urge to ask about his own mother and turned a corner a little too sharply, thankfully not enough to fall into the dirty street but it still brought a small laugh out of him and you smiled in response.

“It’ll be really easy on the first day.” It was better to switch the line of conversation to something less invasive so you could avoid embarrassing yourself further and he went back to nodding as you spoke, riding slightly in front of you with his hands tightening and unclenching around the handle bars.

You mentally decided you’d learn how to make knitted gloves next.

——

The day thankfully went as simply as you had promised it would considering there wasn’t too much to do yet with the booths just starting to get set up as vendors picked their locations for the year and unpacked their truckloads of goodies.

You couldn’t keep the smile off your face as you dragged Jay around, equally as happy about the fair finally happening and the fact you’d managed to have a friend to share it with after so many years of having to keep the excitement to yourself.

Jay was a very good sport about the muddy grass and the chaotic setting of the field that was always used, much more patient with you and your high energy than the other boys would’ve been. You kept your hand locked around his elbow as you pulled him from vendor to vendor, introducing each familiar face to him and giving him a quick rundown on what they sold and where they came from.

You loved the fair so much because it meant you got to see new faces and hear stories about the towns neighboring yours for once, a large amount of the attendees coming from other places to promote their small businesses. The vending was a small part of the entire celebration but it was your personal favorite.

“This booth is the best.” You were leaning a bit closer to him so none of the others heard you and took offense to your bias and he glanced at you from the side of his eye. “Aren’t they beautiful?”

Jay shifted in place as you both studied the half set up booth full of custom made jewelry with shiny metal clasps and crystals you’d never even heard of let alone actually got to see in person.

“She makes all of these herself?” His voice had taken on the same whisper as yours had and you nodded as you followed his line of sight to see the owner of the booth, an older woman who was hanging up a sign with shaky hands and furrowed eyebrows.

Your hand was falling against your side as Jay moved forward and it lost its place on his arm, a frown forming on your face for just a few seconds before a smile replaced it as you realized what he was doing.

His voice was low and gentle as he spoke to her so you couldn’t quite hear what he was saying but she made an appreciative noise and handed the sign over to him so he could help her get it in place, her less shaky hands patting him on the shoulder thankfully once he was finished.

You took a step or two closer which was enough to get his attention and he looked up at you swiftly, eyes widening a bit like he only just now realized he’d left you standing there instinctively.

Surprisingly he was coming back to your side and bending his arm enough to indicate you could hold it again, something you quickly did even if your cheeks flushed a little at the realization you’d been holding onto him the entire day without really even noticing that wasn’t something you typically did.

“How lovely.” The vendor was practically cooing at the sight of you and your mouth dropped open at the implication of both your stance and your matching scarves. “What a kind young man, you’re a lucky lady.”

Jay made a noise that could only be described as strangled and you would have laughed at him if it wasn’t for the bashful look on the woman’s face, clearly regretting her words and assumption because of his reaction.

“I am, aren’t I?” You were giving her a sweet smile before gently patting his arm and watching the side of his face to further bask in his embarrassment.

You could hear her laughing in relief and delight at the sight of the two of you but you were more focused on how red Jay was turning and the way he was intensely attempting to not look at you. You grinned harder before waving goodbye to her and tugging him along, causing him to let out another distressed sound.

“What was that?” He was shocking you by speaking up and questioning your motives but you only laughed at the serious tone he’d taken and continued walking.

“I mean she’s not entirely wrong. I’d say I’m very lucky.” You tilted to the side to bump against him and he let out a scoffed laugh that made your smile grow, pleased you’d gotten him to loosen up a little bit.

You’d taken him a little past the vendors now so the buzz of the moving people and trucks had quieted down, instead being replaced by the clucks of chicken and the soft noises the cows in the barn were making.

The sight of a farm wasn’t uncommon where you lived but this one was particularly amazing to you considering the sheer size of it, making it the perfect space to host the crowds and heavy machinery that came along with the fairs open weekend. The large field would soon be filled with food trucks and a ferris wheel standing taller than the trees surrounding you, children running with caramel apples and a petting zoo full of the same animals in the red barn behind you.

“It’s really something.” Jay was filling the silence and you snapped out of your envisioning to glance at him, finding him also looking out into the field and watching the place come to life. “I didn’t realize how different it would be from just attending.”

“Atleast you don’t find it as boring as the others do.” You’d stopped walking by now in favor of leaning against a large pile of hay stacks and people watching, not surprised that he remained upright and stoic instead of joining you. “I’m really thankful you decided to help me this year even though you’d miss band practice.”

His head snapped over to you in shock and you laughed at the slightly panicked expression, shrugging your shoulders and picking at some of the loose straws of hay underneath you.

“Jungwon wasn’t exactly subtle but I’m grateful nonetheless.” You were standing back up at that and wiping the back of your pants to get the dust off of the fabric, looking back up at him and slightly squinting your eyes against the sun. “You’re a good friend.”

He was scratching the back of his neck and shifting his foot again awkwardly at the compliment but you were glad to see him nod in light acceptance.

“Wanna get some hot chocolate?”

——

A week continued on just like that with Jay arriving to your house a few hours before dinner time and the two of you riding to the field together, your voice overly filling the silence with his light hums and brief comments reassuring you that he was still actively listening.

Jay was providing more than just company, actually assisting you when it was finally time to start helping you and doing the volunteer work your other friends were so eagerly avoiding.

He was lifting heavy slates of wood without being asked twice and waiting for further instruction as you added a fresh coat of bright red paint to the apple bobbing booth. You knew you’d made the right choice with having him help (although your options were limited) and the other regular volunteers seemed to agree.

“Didn’t realize you were into strong guys.” The voice suddenly in your ear was making you jump and nearly spill your apple cider, glaring at the person joining you for the shock even though you were instinctively leaning closer to her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You were mumbling around the styrofoam cup and she laughed mockingly at you, knowing you long enough to see through your indifference.

Cindy was twice your age but you’d gotten along from the moment you eagerly offered to volunteer, her parents being the founders of the fair in the first place which made her the rightful owner once they had passed away a few years ago.

She got on your case regarding just about everything but the tough love was a breath of fresh air considering the type of overbearing and coddling affection you were used to from your mother. It was almost your worst nightmare for her to catch you watching Jay as he helped the other male volunteers move logs and heaps of old wood away from where the mini rides would be installed.

“Honey I know heart eyes when I see them and yours are practically bursting out of your thick skull.” Her hand was reaching over to try to steal a piece of your warm pumpkin donut sat infront of you and you aggressively swatted at it with a scowl.

“He’s my friend. I’ve known him since I was like basically a baby.” You were trying to keep your tone flat and unsuspecting even though you weren’t even quite sure why you suddenly felt on trial.

You weren’t even purposefully eyeballing Jay or whatever she had called it but he just so happened to be directly in your line of sight and coincidentally he had removed his zip up at some point, most likely needing the cold chill because of all the heavy lifting he was doing with a surprise ease.

“Well he’s definitely not a baby anymore.” She made a small appreciative noise and you turned to her with your nose turned up in disgust, taking a moment to soak in her typically eccentric outfit.

Cindy was definitely one of the most interesting people in your town aesthetic wise, big chunky earrings being used as decorations in her large unkept hair and layers and layers of jarringly opposing patterns and fabrics. It somehow worked on her and you always loved the fact she looked like a little halloween trinket come to life.

“That’s disgusting, you could be his mother you know.” Your eyebrows were furrowed but she knew better than to take your annoyance serious, shrugging her shoulders and directing your attention back to the topic of the conversation with a ring covered hand.

“He watches you about as much as you watch him.” She had the same tone she always had when she felt like she was proving you wrong and in this case, she was. Jay was eyeing the two of you as you spoke but trying his best not to make it obvious, getting distracted enough to trip over a log and nearly crash into one of the bigger burlier men working.

He was far enough away that you couldn’t hear the interaction but you laughed at the glare he received and the way he threw both of his hands up in surrender, backing away and giving you a quick embarrassed glance before picking up the log he tripped over.

“Oh what a mess that boy is.” She was successfully stealing the rest of your donut and you sighed in defeat, leaning against her more and letting her signature vanilla scent hit you full force. “Doesn’t speak much does he.”

“You talked to him?” You didn’t quite understand why that peaked your interest so much but she chuckled at the eagerness in your question, nodding her head and chewing the soft donut for a few seconds before answering.

“He came over to old Betsy’s booth when she was using the restroom and I was filling in for her.” She seemed to miss the irony in her calling somebody around her age old and you didn’t dare point it out to her. “Kept eyeing the necklaces.”

You couldn’t think of a time Jay would’ve gone back to the jewelry stand without you and your eyes narrowed further.

“Well did he buy anything?”

“Don’t remember.” She hummed the words so casually but you knew better than to believe her, sitting up off her shoulder and turning your body so you could fully face her with a stern look. Your normally bubbly exterior was easier to lose than you usually preferred around your strange friend but you assumed it was because she never once minded you on your grumpiest days.

“You so totally remember.” Your finger raised accusingly and she glanced at it with a quirked eyebrow, her large red hexagon framed glasses almost blocking her amused expression. “Cindy what did he buy?”

You assumed she was going to make another excuse to not answer you directly but the universe, in all it’s twisted ways, actually offered a real one in the form of one of the senior volunteers calling for her attention and waving at you before urgently fanning her over.

“Looks like I’m needed elsewhere.” The air of mischief surrounding her had intensified as your own lighthearted annoyance followed suit and you rolled your eyes as she glanced back out into the field. “You’ve got better company incoming anyways.”

She was gone just in time for Jay to reach the two of you and he watched her back for a few seconds as she strolled away, a silent question floating around his furrowed eyebrows as if he was worried he was the reason she’d left so suddenly.

Your friend typically had an anxious energy surrounding him but it bothered you more so right now so you cleared your throat to get his attention and smiled when he finally gave it, patting the spot Cindy had just left empty and not scooting over when he jumped into a start and walked around the table to sit next to you.

“I heard you’ve met Cindy.” You nudged him with your elbow and he titled his head to grin at you in the most genuine way you’d seen from him in all your years of companionship, eyes squinting against the sun as it slowly set with a certain lightness you quite enjoyed. You figured the hard work had made him too tired to keep his guard as high as usual and you briefly considered asking the volunteers to give him more logs to move.

“She’s a character.” He took a second to form the sentence and it came out in slow patches like he was trying to find the nicest word to describe her eccentric ways. Your mouth was opening to inform him it was okay to be offput by her before he was talking again. “She reminds me of you actually.”

That shut you up and you felt a sudden unnecessary guilt for not immediately knowing if he was complimenting you or doing the opposite.

You hadn’t even noticed you were leaning against him again until he stiffened up at your unusual reaction, an apologetic look on his face making you feel even worse. It was beginning to frustrate you that you couldn’t stop embarrassing yourself in front of him, the ability beyond foreign and not something you’d ever even considered before.

His hand was cold when you reached out to place yours over it, not exactly holding but just letting your palm rest on top of his knuckles.

“I’m glad actually. I think she’s probably the most interesting person on earth.” You were watching his reaction to both your statement and the touch before forfeiting first and looking past him in the direction she’d gone.

“I doubt that.” He sounded strangely heavy and it was a tone unlike any you’d heard from him, immediately bringing your gaze back to his face in an attempt to decipher it.

Jay remained as stoic as he usually was and you were suddenly glad for the lowered sun, hoping the lack of lighting in the field managed to hide the light dusting of your cheeks.

——

It was almost refreshing to be back in the basement with the rest of your friends, not having any type of embarrassment in the pit of your stomach since Jay currently wasn’t here and for the first time in two weeks you weren’t having to overthink why you were feeling so weird.

Even though the other boys were trying their best to make you as awkward as possible, all staring at you with questioning eyes after Jungwon asked how it’d been volunteering this year.

“It’s fine.” You knew as soon as you gave a vauge answer that they were going to get suspicious, your eyes slowly closing in regret as they got an excited buzz to them and immediately hounded in on you like a pack of dogs (or over enthusiastic kittens).

“This is the first time since we were preteens you’ve talked about the fair and not went on for hours.” Even Sunghoon was being unusually perceptive and leaning forward on the edge of his arm chair.

“Can you guys not be super annoying about this?” You winced as you said it, already prepared for how rowdy they’d get at the admittance that there was something to be annoying about in the first place.

Not even Heeseung was exempt from the almost childlike giddiness they all had now and you rolled your eyes at the way they were all smacking eachother and overlapping sentences of ‘I told you so’ adjacent statements.

Luckily you were saved by the sound of Heeseung’s mom calling your name from the top of the stairs, shouting it a few times to try and outmatch the volume of all the boys talking at once. You managed to hear her exasperated tone beneath it and you left them to their theatrics without another word, finding her standing in the kitchen with the phone in her hand and an impatient look on her face.

You glanced at her apologetic before taking the phone from her and waiting until she was back at the table doing her crosswords before you actually put it up to your ear.

“Hello?” You knew it wasn’t likely to be your own mother calling about your whereabouts considering she ever rarely actually did, trusting you and knowing you were an adult who didn’t need checking in when you were usually only ever at a handful of places.

“Y/N?” Jays voice coming through the speaker was enough to make your stomach form a tight knot, not even fully processing the breathy and shaky way he was speaking before understanding something was wrong.

“Where are you?” You weren’t sure why it was the first thing you thought to ask him and he took a few painful seconds to even answer, your hand tugging at the chord connected to the wall anxiously as you waiting for his voice to come back and let you know he was still on the other end.

He was hushed when he muttered the address too and you felt little to no guilt about rushing out of the house without saying goodbye to the boys, formality and patience totally fleeing your mind as you picked up your bike off the side of the house and took off down Heeseung’s long smooth drive away.

Your thighs were burning as you made your way across town to the rundown area Jay had given an address for, heart racing in a similar pace to the buzzing in your ears that had started as soon as you were hanging up the phone.

The sun was setting now and you knew it was only a matter of time before your mother started to wonder why you were gone far past dinner but you couldn’t even begin to think about that or your friends realizing you weren’t coming back down or Cindy checking her jeweled watch when you didn’t show up for your usual hot donut before volunteering.

Nothing else was currently even a drop more important than Jay and the way he rushed out the address, one you didn’t even need an explanation for to understand what it was. The hesitance in the delivery told you exactly where you were heading and that was only part of the reason you felt sick as you rounded the corner sharply into the barren seeming neighborhood.

The houses with boarded windows and bright red ripped notices on the doors would’ve led you to assume the place was abandoned if it wasn’t for the mass of bright lights coming from the house on the end of the street.

You forfeited your bike in the middle of the road in exchange for running and you skidded to a stop when you realized you’d managed to completely sprint past Jay, not noticing him considering the way he was practically hunched in on himself and missing his usual stoic expression as he stood under a large overgrown tree.

Instead his face was an eerie combination of absent and horrified, gaze meeting your wide eyes but leaving you with the terrible feeling he was looking straight through you.

“What happened?” Your voice seemed to echo and his face was red and blue from the lights behind your tensed shoulders, your hands being painted with the same shades when you were reaching up to cup his cold cheeks.

He had the scarf you’d made for him around his neck and your heart ached at the idea he might’ve been on his way to meet up with you before whatever had occurred did. Your thumb brushed over its bumpy fabric when it smoothed over his skin and he practically leaned into it despite your friend’s usual disinterest towards physical touch.

“Can we go somewhere else?” It took you a few breaths to even realize he’d been the one to speak and you nodded instinctively, staying frozen even when he stood up and by default placed himself directly infront of you.

Your boot bumped against his shoe when you went to take a step back and he quickly looked away from the house and continuously flashing sirens.

You were wondering if it was a good idea to leave or if he still was needed by the officers scattered throughout the yard and near the patrol cars, sparing them a glance over your shoulder as you started to follow him. You didn’t meet any of their eyes enough to understand what you should do but there was no way you were going to leave Jay alone so you sighed and followed after him.

He was leading you around the back of the house where you could see a tilted garage and a bunch of shrubbery, almost enough to be completely hiding the car underneath it all.

Jay didn’t look at you once as he started to pull twigs and piles of bushes off the hood and windshield, failing to realize the way you were hugging yourself now to fend off the cold and anxiously peering back around the side of the house as you waited for somebody to come and try to stop you from leaving. Nobody came and eventually he was stopping to take a harsh breath before opening the door and looking at you expectantly.

Despite your nerves, you still followed suit and climbed into the old car. The air was stuffy and you could almost taste how long it’d been since it was put to any use especially obvious with all of the dust lining the dashboard and creating a fine film over the cup holders and stick shift that Jay was wrapping his hand around without a second thought.

“I didn’t know you had a car.” Your voice was filling the car only after you’d been driving in silence for a good fifteen minutes, leaving the town limit a few blocks ago and entering a long stretch of road you’d never been down before.

It was true considering there had been over a few dozen times everybody had complained about the lack of cars in the group, instances where you’d had to cancel plans because it just wasn’t manageable with your bikes. Even Heeseung didn’t have a license even though his mom was always telling him he’d have access to the family van sitting in the garage if he just took the road test.

You didn’t miss the fact that there was a lot you didn’t know about Jay, clearly more than you even realized considering how confused you were tonight by all the missing pieces.

“It was my dad’s.” He was finally glancing over at you but his tone of voice let you know this wasn’t something he wanted to talk about further, nodding your head in understanding and watching him as the trees grew larger around you and the road twisted and turned.

“Are you feeling okay?” You didn’t really know what to ask him considering how little you knew about the situation but he was still nodding slowly and it looked genuine from what you could tell.

You decided it was best to just stay silence so you didn’t accidentally say the wrong thing and Jay took a deep breath before doing the same thing, neither one of you speaking for the next thirty minutes as he drove and stared ahead at the road.

You opted for looking out the window at the large stretches of land and water, roads now slick and shiny with the rain that had been falling during your drive and making the night even more gloomy than it already was. You hoped your mom had seen the weather and assumed you were staying with a friend tonight instead of riding your bike home, your stomach turning a bit at the idea of her calling around to try to make sure you were safe.

Heeseung or one of the other boys knew to cover for you if she called his phone, repeating the practiced line that you had fallen asleep on the couch and forgotten to check in with her beforehand.

But then the worry would land with them and that thought made you frown too.

You weren’t yet regretting following Jay but you hoped you’d get to where you were going soon, suddenly wondering if he even had a destination in mind or if he was just going to keep driving forever and ever.

It didn’t take long to get your answer considering he was pulling into an empty parking lot sitting above a small hill that led down to what you assumed was a dark beach, a cold chill from the water filling the car once he turned it off and the low rattle of the engine disappeared.

He was just sitting there in the drivers seat with a faraway look on his face, picking mindlessly on the callouses covering his hands like he always did.

You were suddenly remembering what was the cause of the lump in your coat pocket, sitting up a bit and reaching your hand inside until it wrapped around the soft fabric you’d been molding for the past two weeks.

Jay was already watching you curiously and his eyes flickered up to yours when he realized what he was you were now holding and presenting out to him across the center console, a hopeful look on your face as you nudged it in his direction.

“You made these?” His question had an obvious answer but you had a feeling he just wanted to hear you say it.

“They match your scarf.” You shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal even though you’d gone through an entire roll of fluffy yarn to make the small pair of gloves, messing up the instructions from your old crocheting book numerous times before you finally got them to a functional point.

Your heart was filling with pride when he was pulling them on and flexing his finger inside, seemingly fitting thankfully considering all you had to go off of for sizing was the amount of time you’ve stared at his hands playing guitar.

“They’re perfect.” He looked so sincere and thankful that it threw you for a few seconds, your eyes widening as you nodded your head and smiled at him shyly. “Thank you seriously.”

“It’s no problem. Did you want to get out?” The intensity suddenly filling the air was making your cheeks flush and you wanted nothing more than to be out of the old car, even if it met facing the cold chill waiting for you outside.

He seemed like he was considering it for a few seconds before he was opening his door and stepping out, making his way over to your side before you could process how fast he left and you faltered when he was opening your door for you.

Thankfully he didn’t seem to take your delayed reaction to heart and you were scrambling out before another awkward second passed by, feeling even more grateful when he was unexpectedly bending his arm and letting you wrap your hands around it like you would at the fair.

It brought a level of comfort to you that you hadn’t begun to understand fully but you welcomed it all the same, walking closely to him as you left the parking lot and the hard concrete under your feet turned into wet feeling sand that slowed your pace down automatically.

The beach was fogged over from the cold weather and you could barely see the water due to the darkness now completely surrounding you, relying solely on the sound of the waves crashing against the shore to let you know you were getting too close.

You and Jay walked in silence like that for a few minutes, alongside the water but far enough that it was only barely touching the sides of your boots whenever the waves rolled over and spread out into the sand.

He was eventually pausing in his stride and you glanced at the side of his face expectantly, seeing that same blank look he had when sitting in the car and feeling your heart tighten with the urge to help him any way you could. You weren’t even sure where to begin but it felt right to slowly sit down onto the sand, holding his arm loose enough that he could feel you moving before you tugged him down too.

You smiled a bit when he sat quickly beside you and you warmed even though the floor was cold and damp underneath you.

You decided to keep holding onto his arm even though you weren’t walking anymore and that left you practically hugging his side while you sat facing him with his own gaze towards the water, your legs pressed up against his and his glove covered hands crossed over his stomach cautiously.

There’d been dozen of instances where you had to sit in close proximity to Jay but never once had you experienced one where you were having to silently tell your heart to calm itself incase he could feel it beating out of control.

“Are you alright?” You couldn’t physically take the silence in the air anymore and he looked at you as you spoke.

His gaze was heavy but as kind as it always was when situated on, a tiredness to him that you weren’t used to seeing. You squeezed his arm and they softened even further while his head tilt to the side at your affectionate gesture.

“I’m sorry I took you all the way out here. I wasn’t really sure where else to go so I just drove.” He was quiet as he spoke and you almost didn’t hear him over the crashing waves.

You suddenly felt a twinge of guilt for being so skeptical about following him into the car and allowing him to leave the limits of your town.

“I don’t mind, it’s a beautiful place.” You heard the irony of the statement at the same time amusement passed over his face, both of you knowing it was far too dark for you to visually appreciate the beach. “It’s cool you can drive.”

He actually did laugh at that, a light one closer resembling a scoff but it seemed genuine nonetheless. You didn’t expect an explanation for him keeping his ability a secret and he didn’t offer one.

You fell into another lapse of silence but you found more comfort than awkwardness in this one, enjoying the closeness of the moment and trying to put yourself into his mind for a second.

Jay was all you could see with how low the light was, just the side view of his face that you’d been accustomed to for such a large part of your life that it was almost odd to be feeling so overwhelmed by the sight of him. It definitely wasn’t the time to be trying to understand why you had been feeling so off kilter around him these days but you knew the clock was clicking for you to figure it out.

His jaw was tense like it got whenever the boys got too rowdy in public or the times in high school when people would whisper in the halls as your small group passed.

It wasn’t a secret that Jay had a certain protective nature surrounding him but your silent friend had never looked as bothered as he did right now.

You were wrestling with yourself in your own mind and trying to shake the idea that he was possibly uncomfortable with your sudden clinginess. You had a reminder on a constant loop that he was the one who initiated the small contact almost everytime and his cheeks flushed red almost as much as yours did whenever you squeezed his arm in yours.

“My mom got arrested.” His voice was cutting off your rampant irrelevant thoughts and your mouth parted slightly in surprise from the sudden admission, immediately snapping shut when you noticed him watching you from the side of eye.

“Jay.” You went to speak words of comfort but his lips pursed and his eyes shut for a second like he was pained so you swallowed your sentence and waited for him.

“It’s not a big deal and it’s not the first time or the last.” He was beginning to rush through the words like he didn’t think he could manage to get them all out and you watched him carefully, forgetting the cold weather and the wetness coating the fabric of your pants. “I called you because I knew seeing you would make me feel better but I don’t really need to talk about it or anything.”

“Then we don’t have to talk about it.” Your voice was firmer than usual and his shoulders relaxed.

You weren’t even thinking when your hand was reaching up to touch his face, turning his head towards your direction so he didn’t really have a choice but to look at you.

Your hands were undoubtedly freezing against his skin but you still took the opportunity to absentmindedly rub your thumb against his cheek and jaw, observing the way he almost melted into the touch with something close to pain in his expression.

This was nothing like the arm holding or the hands brushing when you passed him a paintbrush, crossing over the line of things you could fit in the category of your newly developed friendship without the connection of the group. This was something else entirely and you chose not to place it anywhere for now, letting it exist here on the beach without the weight in your chest following along.

“Did it make you feel better?” Your voice was almost a whisper but you had no doubt he heard you considering how close your faces had gotten now that you made him look at you fully. “Seeing me?”

You knew the answer already when you asked it but you still weren’t prepared for the way he softly nodded while leaning into your touch further, eyes big and puppy like in direct contrast to his usual stern and more feline gaze. Vulnerability had completely taken over his typical stoic attitude and you felt a surge of pride for getting to see him like this.

Jay had been consuming your thoughts since you started hanging out one on one and it felt far too important of a moment to let pass you by.

You barely had to shift yourself forward to be able to kiss him but the slightest sign of you moving spurred him to close the gap instead, pushing his lips against yours and taking you by surprise.

The beach was almost quieter as the two of you kissed softly, the waves sounding like they were further away since all you could focus on was the warmth radiating off of him. You were flushed from how delicate he was with you and how it lacked any real heat considering it was much more of a romantic kiss than you both trying to turn the other on.

He kept his eyes closed when you pulled away from eachother and you rested your forehead against his, watching his expressions closely and not wanting to lean back incase the lack of touch made him reconsider what had happened.

You’d be stupid to not understand Jay had always had a soft spot for you but just because the boys teased him about it didn’t mean he actually felt like you were somebody special. He was a gentleman in all aspects of his interactions so you weren’t certain enough to bet on the fact he had any type of feelings for you that would make him see this kiss the way you did.

“Please don’t regret this tomorrow.” He said it in one quick whisper and your heart twisted at the same time your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“I won’t, of course I won’t.” You hoped your voice was firm enough to make him believe you but you could tell by the look on his face that he was still skeptical.

You didn’t know how else to prove it to him besides kissing him again so that’s exactly what you did, hands cupping his face and pulling him into you much more passionately than you had the first time. This go around there was a lot more movement and a soft noise escaped you when you felt his gloved hand on your knee.

It was hard to connect the fact the Jay you were kissing was the same Jay you’ve known almost your entire life. He was the same boy who used to scowl on the swings at the playground and silently pay for your snacks at lunch or hold the door for you when entering Heeseung’s house.

You were almost reverting back through all your platonic memories with him as you kissed and seeing him in a different light than you had before.

This time when you stopped kissing you fully leaned into him until you were practically hugging without having your arms around each other, the sudden longing to just feel him close overwhelming you as you tried to pretend it was simply because of the cold and not because he opened up apart of himself to you tonight and that seemed to be the final piece you needed to understand how you felt.

“We should go, you’re going to catch a cold.” He was speaking again in a far away voice and you would’ve declined and asked for just a few more minutes but he was already standing up.

You suddenly felt the most distant you had in a long time from him and your throat was tightened even when he offered his arm in your direction, the action coming across more robotic now than him actually reaching out for you.

It was hard to not overthink considering he was driving you both home in silence, the hills and forest of the town coming into sight as you left behind the empty stretches of road and sky above the ocean.

For once you found yourself looking out the window with longing as you passed the welcome sign back into where you’d grown up, finally slightly understanding why most people had a hard time coming home after being somewhere else for a change.

You didn’t stop thinking about the beach or the road leading even further away until he was pulling into your driveway, the car making a funny scraping sound as it pushed itself up the slight incline.

Jay sighed softly, the first noise he’d made in a long time that wasn’t covered by the radio commercials and the heat running on high with that loud rattling noise, shutting the car off completely as you both sat there in silence.

“Are you able to go home? If you need somewhere to stay I’m sure my mom wouldn’t mind as long as you stayed on the couch.” You were speaking swiftly with your eyes slightly widened and he smiled at you gently even if it didn’t quite seem genuine.

“I’m alright, I’ll figure it out.” His tone held a stubborn finality that you didn’t bother trying to question again even though it hurt your heart to think about him searching for a place to stay.

You almost begged him to just come in and warm up for a bit, maybe use your phone to call some of the boys and ask them if he could go there before he just started to drive around in circles but you decided against it.

Instead you leaned far enough that the middle console was pressing against your stomach and you kissed him softly on his cheek, rubbing the clumpy fabric of his scarf before sitting back in your seat and smiling shakily as you tugged the door open and stepped back out into the cold.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Your head cocked so he understood it was a question you wanted answered and he took a few moments before he was nodding his head and starting the car again, lifting his hand off the steering wheel for a brief second in a wave as you closed the door.

——

Jay didn’t show up the next day but you still stood at the end of your driveway with your bike in your hands for twenty minutes, shifting from the cold and slight embarrassment even though nobody was around to see you left hanging.

You filled your mind with the calming thought that he was just busy and he’d show up any minute panting from rushing over here, or maybe he’d even bring his new car and you wouldn’t have to ride your bikes in the cold anymore.

You’d have a good day setting up the fair and you wouldn’t have any awkward silences about the kiss, infact maybe you’d even kiss again when he dropped you back off at home later.

The thoughts and daydreams only entertained you until half an hour had passed and now you’d officially be late so you had no choice but to flip up your kick stand with your foot and mount your bike with a deep frown.

Even then you still felt guilty about leaving incase Jay showed up late at your house and found out you had left without him.

The rational part of you knew that wasn’t going to happen and if anything he could come to the fair and just meet you there but you could tell from the first hour that he wasn’t going to and he wasn’t anywhere waiting for you to come back. He simply hadn’t shown up and you were beyond stupid for thinking otherwise all morning.

It actually hadn’t even crossed your mind that he wasn’t going to show up.

You ran through the possible scenarios, coped with the inevitable tension in the air and the chance of an extremely awkward conversation where you had to confess your newfound feelings for him.

You’d even practiced over how you were going to say it all morning as you got dressed down to the last word but not once did you think he would simply leave you there alone like a completely fool.

Jay was a lot of things, he was reserved and shut off and maybe a little bit blunt at times but he was certainly never cruel and especially not to you. Your friends seemed to agree considering how appalled they were when you stomped down the steps with wet leaves wrapped around your boots and frowned as you explained what had happened.

“Wait you kissed? You like Jay?” Heeseung seemed utterly confused and you couldn’t tell if he was playing up the surprise or if he genuinely wasn’t paying attention to the obvious signs.

“Dude have you even been here? That’s not the problem, what do you mean he didn’t show up?” Sunghoon was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands cupping his face in distress.

“I shouldn’t have kissed him without asking how he felt about me first.” You ignored his question and shook your head as you slouched back into the couch, more upset with your self now than anything else.

All the boys looked around at each other in shock and the air got heavy again like it always seemed to whenever the topic of you and Jay came up. Your eyebrows furrowed into a glare and you settled it onto Jungwon who looked the most guilty, hoping he’d spill whatever it was that they weren’t saying to you.

“Jay is totally into you.” He was letting it out in one breath of air and the other boys collectively rolled their eyes and swatted at your friend. “He has been forever and we all totally make his life hell because of it.”

“Why on earth would you guys do that?” You were practically yelling now even though it was hard to stay mad at them when they all looked so guilty. “Just a few weeks ago you were trying to get me to ask out Jake Sim.”

“We were trying to get him to finally grow a pair and make a move.” Heeseung made you groan at the crude wording but despite your annoyance you actually understood the ways they were trying to help especially since it had actually worked up until you screwed it up by kissing him.

You relayed this thought to them and they looked just as stricken by the fact Jay had not followed up after your kiss as they did the first time you said it.

They did their best to cheer you up with covers of your favorites songs and less argument filled board game rounds but you couldn’t stop the hole in your heart from deepening everytime you thought about it. Your anger towards yourself slowly transferred to him instead as the night went on but even that felt wrong.

Opening night of the fair was finally happening tomorrow and you could barely feel the usual excitement, even when all the boys told you they would be coming to keep you company.

You gave them a soft smile before bidding them goodnight and you truly did appreciate what they were trying to do but it wasn’t the outcome you wanted.

That still didn’t stop you from waking up early the next morning and getting yourself ready, pinning your stray hairs back with cheap pumpkin decorated pins you’d had for a decade and pulling on the new pair of gloves you made (finished off with much neater edges than Jays had been).

The others were going to arrive any moment to accompany you so you sat on the couch finishing your hot chocolate and tapping your feet against the carpet with anticipation, doing all you could to ignore the pit in your stomach so you could still have fun and appreciate all the hard work you and the other volunteers had contributed.

Rough honking from outside made your head pick up expectantly and you set your mug on the coffee table before rushing to the window and smiling brightly when you saw all of your friends waving from inside an old car you didn’t recognize.

It wasn’t until you opened the door that you caught sight of the driver and you faltered a bit, long enough that he had stepped out onto your driveway and waved at you with a sheepish expression.

“Hey Y/N, hope it’s okay that I tag along.” Jake Sim was standing infront of your house and he apparently was one of the few people your age in town that owned a car and even worse, your friends were giving you encouraging looks behind his back.

Heeseung lost his thumbs up when you glared at him through the windshield but you made sure to smile at Jake reassuringly.

“Of course it’s okay Jake, it’s good to see you.” You tugged open the passenger seat door and tugged at Heeseung’s hoodie until he was groaning and unbuckling, squeezing into the backseat with the others and allowing you to be in the front.

You let the boys talk loudly and play their music while you sat in silence during the short drive to the field where the fair was being held, finding it harder to ignore the fact somebody was missing when all you could think about what your drive back from the beach.

Jake quietly humming wasn’t enough for you to forget how Jay kept a tight grip on the steering wheel or shifted in his seat at a red light.

The comparison of the two definitely wasn’t fair especially since you were almost positive your friends had begged Jake to give you all a ride under some faux promise that you would find it kind enough to give him a shot. He was always nice to you in school and definitely wasn’t trying anything sleazy now, instead arguing with Jungwon about the speed limits and his backseat driving.

Your heart warmed the second you were approaching the field and you could see the Ferris wheel peaking over the trees, car slowing down to allow the groups of people and large families to cross the street in front of you.

The turn out was probably the biggest you’d seen yet and even your friends were making noises of excitement as they peered out the windows and took in the rows of games and smaller kiddy rides.

“Woah this is awesome.” Jake sounded genuinely amazed from beside you and you glanced back over your shoulder to smile at him. “You guys did a great job.”

You knew he must’ve been referring to the larger group of people who volunteered but you still couldn’t help but think of all the work Jay helped do and how much he contributed this year.

“Thank you Jake.”

——

It was almost like a homecoming as you walked across the field and let the mud build up under your boots, a caramel apple in hand and the other wrapped around Heeseung as he laughed and tried his best to win your group another stuffed animal despite the fact the three boys behind you were holding two each.

“Holy shit.” You couldn’t help but be impressed when he knocked all the pins down again even though you quickly covered your mouth apologetically when the mother of a child near you sent you a sharp glare.

“Here you go madam.” He’d put on a funny proper voice as he handed you the small pink stuffed lamb and you mockingly curtsied at him as he squinted his eyes against the sun and surveyed the area. “Alright going to go attempt to brave the portapotties, wish me luck.”

“Hold your breath.” Jungwon was quick to chirp behind you and you groaned at the imagery, pulling your arm out of Heeseung’s so he could half jog over to the bathrooms and feeling a slight chill run over you at the loss of body heat.

Somebody was clearing their throat from beside you and your eyes widened a bit as you turned to see Jake standing there now, a sheepish expression on his face with his elbow angled at you invitingly. He must’ve picked up on your walking habit by now and you smiled bashfully at him before accepting his arm.

“Are you having a good time?” You started walking together as you spoke quietly, your two friends behind you talking loudly in weird voices as if they were making their animal prizes communicate.

“It’s beautiful.” He actually sounded like he meant it, tone a little breathy as he turned his gaze to the Ferris wheel and nodded appreciably. “I understand why you love it so much.”

You were actually enjoying his company despite the ache in your chest and you were glad he got to tag along with all of you, hoping you’d get the chance to see him with the boys more often including the one you were missing the most right now.

It’d been a few hours into the fair and you knew Jay could come another day by himself if he really wanted to but the thought of him missing opening day and feeling how special it was hit you harder than you wished it would and you were almost antsy for your friends to leave so you could go and mope to Cindy and ask her for some advice.

“Look who I ran into.” Heeseung sounded excited from behind you as he returned from the bathrooms and your eyebrows raised curiously, turning in unison with Jake.

Your mouth dropped open a bit when you saw Jay standing there awkwardly, hands in his pockets and a torn expression on his face that turned into one of confusion when he realized you were linking arms with Jake Sim. He didn’t say anything and neither did the others boys, not at all matching Heeseung’s enthusiasm and instead sending you glances like they weren’t sure what reaction was appropriate.

To make matters worse, Jake clearly wasn’t reading the energy and instead was nudging your side affectionately and giving Jay a wide smile.

“And you thought he wasn’t going to show up.” He didn’t know the history behind the two of you or anything that had happened so you couldn’t really fault him for his embarrassing comment, realizing now he must’ve caught wind of some of the things the boys had said about you not expecting Jay.

The comment was enough to break the tension in the air for something much worse and you watched the boy in question purse his lips and nod his head in bitter understanding, pulling a hand out of his pocket to rub the back of his neck.

“Well this was nice but I’ve gotta go.” He didn’t wait for anybody to say any words of parting and instead he was turning on his heels and leaving.

You scoffed and removed your arm from Jakes gently, stomping away from them to follow behind Jay and trying to ignore the clueless boys confused questioning to your friends about what he had said wrong.

“You’re just going to leave?” You waited until you were closer to the barns to speak even though you were pretty sure he knew you’d been following him. “You don’t have anything you feel like you want to say to me?”

He looked surprisingly calm when he turned around to face you but your anger didn’t settle much even when you saw the hurt and lost expression he had, staring down at you and all of your fury like he thought he deserved it.

“What is there for me to say?” His voice was low and you frowned again at how defeated he seemed, how easy it was for him to end the conversation even though you felt like there was a thousand things being left unsaid. “I don’t want to interrupt your time with Jake.”

You let out a noise that was close to a laugh but without any sign of amusement, anger taking over any type of sadness or confusion you felt about the situation. He wasn’t saying it like he was at all angry at you for being around Jake but that almost made you more upset, seeing how simple it seemed for him to just walk away with no explanation.

“By my time with Jake do you mean the time I’m spending waiting for you to show up knowing you wouldn’t?” Your voice cracked a little as you took a step closer to him. “And when you finally do you’re just going to leave? I mean did the night on the beach just mean nothing to you?”

“The night on the beach?” He was now starting to show a little emotion outside of the almost cowardly demeanor he’d had, his eyebrows furrowing as he stared down at you now that you were closer. “The night you pity kissed me?”

It was almost hard to believe he’d say something like that and even harder to comprehend that he genuinely meant it, he wasn’t attempting to hurt you or being unnecessarily cruel like most people would but instead he actually was going off the notion you’d kissed him out of sympathy.

“How could you think that way?” You tried to soften your tone but you were just so upset about everything and even more so now that the fairs opening day was passing you by and going so poorly.

Jay was just looking at you and you were almost worried he was going to start crying, the pained look not going away even when you were closing the gaps between the two of you and bringing your hand up to his cheek. He leaned into it when your thumb rubbed against his skin again but he didn’t answer your question.

You could feel his hand on your lower back like he was afraid you’d back away prematurely but you had no plans to go anywhere despite being upset with him, you could see how hurt and confused he was and that trumped your own feelings that could be dealt with afterwards.

He had been a constant in your life for as long as you could understand the notion of having a friend but you felt like you were just now seeing him for the first time ever and you were almost embarrassed that you didn’t know how to help him especially since he always seemed to know what to say to you when you were upset.

“You have no idea what you are to me.” He’d lost the helplessness in his voice now that you were touching him and the pained tone was more stemming from your closeness than anything else.

There was nothing you could say to that that would properly convey how you felt about the hushed reassured confession so instead you kissed him.

He was immediate in the way he put his other hand on your back too and pulled you closer to him, turning your head and relishing in how different it felt to kiss him standing up.

Jay made a low noise when your hands moved from his face to his hair and you wanted nothing more than to pull another from him, your tongue swiping across his bottom lip seemingly doing the trick as you felt his hands squeeze your waist instinctively.

You pulled away from the kiss to try and breathe but he was immediately following after your lips and connecting them again which made you decide you didn’t at all mind continuing even if it meant replacing air with the feeling of him against you.

You didn’t even realize you were moving until your feet with tripping over his and your back was hitting what you assumed was the barn, a small laugh leaving your lips even though it was muffled by his moving against you feverishly. Jay was kissing you like he’d never get to do it again but by now you’d caught on to the fact he’d thought about this alot longer than you had.

His hand was leaving your back to stop at your knee, pulling it to the side easily so he could slot his own in between yours and press impossibly closer.

“God you’re everything.” He was breathing heavily as he spoke and you whined a bit at how low his voice had gotten, sounding similar to how it did when he’d get focused on one of their songs or scold the boys for messing around too much.

“Can you stay with me here?” Your own came out surprisingly squeakish and you flushed in embarrassment.

He was nodding softly and your hand left his hair to sit on the back of his neck for a second before you were kissing him one more time quickly, smiling a little when he took a step back after and grabbed your free hand so you’d stumble forward with him.

“I’m sorry I was late.” He said it so casually like you were just two regular people going out and he was a little tardy for a date but you figured you could talk about how the situation hurt you later and try to enjoy the rest of the day.

You were leading him back towards your friends but dropping his hand as you approached, not fully sure you wanted to deal with their teasing and quick comments. Jay was easily understanding what you were implying and he fell back into his silent nature, giving them quick head nods when they expressed excitement over him joining you.

It was beginning to look just like your regular hangouts until you all agreed to head towards the ferris wheel and suddenly Jake was turning towards you with a shy smile and his arm bent in your direction.

You couldn’t fault him for assuming you’d want to continue linking arms now that you were back but your heart clenched for a second knowing who was standing right behind you.

Jay was such a quiet and stoic person that you didn’t necessarily think he’d sit there throwing glares at any guy who tried to speak to you but you were either extremely wrong or the energy of the day had gotten to him because you could feel his arm snaking around your waist just as you turned to see the annoyed expression he had and the harsh way he was watching Jake.

All discreetness was thrown out the window at that and you watched the boy across from you purse his lips in bitter understanding before slowly pulling his arm back against his side.

“Don’t be rude.” You were whispering the scolding words in Jay’s ear but leaning against his side so he knew you were okay with the show of affection even if it had started as possessiveness.

He didn’t say anything in his typical fashion and you tried to ignore how giddy the thought of him being jealous made you. You stayed close to him as you waited in line, listening to your friends joke around as you felt his hand squeezing your side impatiently every few minutes.

It was a no brainer that you’d be sitting next to him when an empty carts started to make their way around the wheel and you smiled softly at Heeseung and Jungwon fighting over who got to sit with Jake, pushing them slightly when the working attendant started to look extra impatient.

Jay glanced at you from the side of his eye before putting a hand forward to signal you to get on first, following behind as you scooted across the metal bench and watched him close the door tightly.

“Are you scared of heights?” Your voice was teasing as you leaned against his side to looked closely at the nervous look on his face. He glared at you lightheartedly and when his eyes didn’t leave your face for a few seconds you realized he was going to kiss you right as he did.

His big hand was cupping your cheek to pull you in closer and the feeling of him moving against you was enough to override the embarrassment of kissing before the ride had even moved you out of view from the crowd.

You practically kissed the entire time your cart slightly jerked forward to allow new people onto the ones under you, slowly lifting you higher and higher as your heart raced.

Kissing Jay was a completely foreign feeling but you felt like you couldn’t stop now that you knew what it was like, finding the low noises your friend made absolutely addicting to the point they were overriding your system and everything you’ve ever thought about him. You never once considered what he would feel like this close to you or how he’d look when you pulled apart to breathe, dark eyes low and hazy and his lip reddening.

“Is this what you expected when you offered to help me paint stables?” You were grinning as you spoke and he brushed some of your hair behind your ear.

“Not necessarily but a guy can dream.” He surprised you by joking back and the ride jolted alive suddenly, both of you lurching forward for a second before dissolving in a fit of laughter.

From the top of the ferris wheel you could not only see the fair and all of the work you’d put into it but you could see a large part of your small town, the gravel roads you struggled with your bike on everyday to Heeseung’s and the railroad tracks that led to the side of town you’d found Jay on the night he called you.

Off in the distance you could even make out the long stretch of road where the trees broke away and the sea inevitably began.

Jay was softly calling for your attention once your cart stopped at the very top of the ride, your hair blowing in the light wind as you turned to face him. The sun had nearly set now and he looked particularly handsome when he was lit up by the lights adorning the metal beams under you, that nervous look returning as he shifted his body to face you.

He almost looked as if he was planning to tell you something, maybe even make a speech of some sort but instead he was closing his mouth and reaching into his coat pocket to pass you a small box.

You took it from his glove covered hands and glanced up at him with wide eyes, already having a relatively good idea about what was inside the box. He raised an eyebrow at you as a way to urge you opening it and you quickly untied the soft ribbon keeping it closed, both of you keeping quiet like you were scared to ruin the moment.

Inside, surrounded by shredded wrapping paper to keep it safe, was a beautiful handmade necklace with a golden seashell at the end of the thin chain. You knew right away who had made the piece of jewelry and your eyes filled up with tears as you looked at him.

“Sorry I’m not as crafty as you but I figured I knew somebody who was.” He was trying to joke around to soften the heavy atmosphere but you could see the hesitation on his face as he waited for you to say something. “It’s the right one right? You kept looking at it the first day you brought me here.”

“It’s perfect.” Your voice was breathy and it came out as one word but you knew he understood, his shoulders losing some tension as he shifted closer to you and took the necklace from your shaky hands.

You sniffed a little bit and turned around so you could lift your hair and assist him in putting the necklace on you, getting a full view of the town around you as you did so and barely even noticing the fact the ferris wheel was beginning to move again.

All you could focus on was his cold hands on your neck and the weight of the seashell as it softly fell down in the middle of your collarbones, your heart thumping so hard you worried it woukd shift it from its place.

His apprehension was still obvious when you turned back around to show him how it looked on you but his eyes lit up at the sight of it, meeting your gaze just in time for you to lean in and kiss him again.

[nicksolemnlyswears]

THE BEAR AND THE BEE HIVE

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

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

word count: 14.4k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Deal."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you sure?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Unaware of the argument back at The Bear, Sydney walks to Bee Hive. She's walked past many times but has yet to have the time to stop and try it out.

As she waits in line, she reads over the drinks menu. It's clear that it's been carefully curated. Starbucks has nothing on this menu. She can see why Carmy would prefer to come here instead.

When it's her turn to order, Sydney takes out her phone to recite everyone's drink order. She also points to a few pastries, thinking Marcus would like to try some of them and get inspiration. That and she knows Natalie will enjoy them as well.

You're sitting at a table close to the pickup counter. You often find yourself all over the store, ensuring everything goes smoothly. Sometimes, you stop to talk to your regulars and see how they're doing.

You notice Sydney struggling with all the cups she has to carry. It's proving difficult despite the to-go trays your barista put them in. Deciding to approach her, you ask, "Do you need help?"

"Oh, no. I'm fine, thanks," Sydney responds with a nervous smile. She's trying hard to grab everything, including the box with the pastries.

You continue watching her struggle because you know she needs help. You let her try and figure it out for one more minute before stepping in again when she almost drops two of the drinks, "Need some help now?"

"Yeah," Sydney sighs, "I guess I can leave one of the trays here, go to the restaurant, and come back for the rest," she speaks mostly to herself.

"Are you going far?"

"No, just the restaurant down the block," Sydney responds with a sigh, scratching her eyebrow as she tries to figure out the logistics of carrying the drinks. She could get a box to put everything in.

You perk up at her response. The only restaurant down the block is Carmen's. Could she work there? "Carmy's restaurant?"

"You know Carmy?" Sydney asks, tilting her head. Maybe Nat was right. Carmy spends his time here because of the woman in front of her.

"He comes here often. Anyway, I can go with you to help you out. It's not far, and I'd feel bad if your drinks got cold." You offer to help her out because you're a nice person. Not because you want a chance to see the curly-haired man you are developing feelings for.

"You really don't have to…"

"It's really not a problem," you press, grabbing one of the to-go trays and motioning for her to lead the way.

Sydney sighs in defeat and nods, "Thanks. I'm Sydney, by the way."

"I'm Honey," you smile, following her outside.

You chat all the way to the restaurant with Sydney. She reminds you of Carmy in some ways, so you can see why they are friends. Before arriving at the restaurant, Sydney apologizes in advance for any sort of mess there might be, including yelling.

As you near the building under renovation, your palms start to sweat. Maybe you shouldn't have come. You're showing up unannounced, and he's probably too busy to talk to you anyway. You can slip in and out without him noticing. That's the goal now.

You open the door for Sydney, letting her go through first, and quietly follow her into the restaurant. There's no time to escape, as all eyes are instantly on you.

Richie is arguing with Fak when he sees you walk in. He narrows his eyes as Carmy looks in your direction from the kitchen. With just one glance to Carmy's face, he knows who you're supposed to be.

"Guess I didn't have to go anywhere. She came to me," Richie whispers, rushing out the door.

"Shut the fuck up. Where are you going? Don't embarrass me!" Carmy whispers out to Richie unsuccessfully.

"Oh, you'll do that all by yourself," Richie throws over his shoulder.

"Honey, hey, what-what're you doing here?" Carmy speaks, not giving Richie a chance to open his big mouth. He stands between you and Richie, blocking him for the time being.

"Sydney needed help with the drinks," you answer nervously, averting your eyes.

"Oh, thanks for that. You didn't have to," Carmy approaches you and takes the drinks from your hands. His fingers brush with yours momentarily, causing you both to blush.

"I did, or else you probably wouldn't have anything to drink," you whisper to him.

Sydney, Fak, and Richie all watch the interaction amusedly. Richie has a big teasing grin on his face as he makes a plan in his head.

"Hi, I'm Richie! Carmy's cousin," he introduces himself, shoving Carmy to the side and shaking your hand enthusiastically. "I gotta say Carmen right here is obsessed with your coffee. He's banned us from getting Starbucks."

Carmy curses under his breath as Richie does precisely what he tells him not to. He has the urge to throw the coffee at him and run away.

"Is that right?" You ask, amused, looking over at Carmy with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh yeah," Richie answers for him as Carmy tries to find the right words to say. "Cousin, why don't you give the nice lady a tour of the place?"

"It's not done yet. Could be dangerous," Carmy hopelessly says with a gulp.

"Nonsense! You'll take care of her!" Richie insists. He takes the coffee from Carmy's hands and pushes him in your direction. "Go give her a tour."

Richie, Sydney, and Fak all disappear to the office to stay out of the way and try to snoop simultaneously. Fak sends Carmy a not-so-discreet thumbs-up that makes you giggle.

He's internally screaming at his so-called friends but is glad to see you. It was all he wanted before Sydney left to get their drinks. It's strange having you here at The Bear, though. He's so used to seeing you in your own space back at Bee Hive.

Trying to make things better, you say, "Sorry you've been roped into this. You probably have better things to do. I can go-"

Carmy doesn't let you finish. "No, stay. I want to show you around."

"Let's see what you got then, Berzatto," you grin, following him to the kitchen.

Carmy takes his time showing you The Bear. He wants you to stay. He wants to spend time with you but doesn't really know how to say it. So he takes it slow, answers your questions about the restaurant, shows you the front and how everything will be laid out, and introduces you to the ones around, including the fridge guy working on the handle.

Sadly, you get a call from Bee Hive asking you to come back. Carmy walks you outside, dreading having to say goodbye.

"I'm really excited for The Bear to open. You have a great place and team," you tell Carmy.

"I really got lucky with them, huh?" He asks, playing with a dish towel.

"I gotta go. I'll see you later, Berzatto." You don't know where you got the guts to lean towards him and kiss his cheek.

Carmy stays still as his face heats up. You start walking away and throw him a smile over your shoulder. When you're a distance away, he touches the cheek you kissed. Back inside, Richie runs over to Sugar to tell her what he just witnessed.

It's late when Carmy leaves The Bear. As he walks to the train station, he has his hands stuffed in his jacket pocket. On his way, he sees a lone light turned on in your café. Crossing the street to check it out, he sees you're still there with glasses perched on your nose in front of the computer.

He tries the door, and to his luck, it's open. You look in his direction, startled, but relax once you see it's him.

"Nice glasses," Carmy teases, pulling out a chair to sit.

"Are you making fun of me?" You purse your lips, propping your chin on your palm.

"No, I…I think you look cute with them," Carmy admits. After a stern talk from Sugar and Richie, he's realized he should probably make a proper move on you because if what they say is true, you also have a crush on him.

"Thanks," you blush, the light from your screen making it obvious to Carmy, who can't stop the corners of his lips from turning up into a smile.

"Late night?"

"One of my baristas is moving out of state. I have to find someone new, preferably who has experience," you say with a sigh. Glancing at him, you add, "Are you perhaps interested in the position?"

"Poaching me from my own restaurant, nice. I'll let you know I'm an excellent worker," Carmy jokes, tapping his fingers on the table.

There's no doubt in your mind he's an excellent worker. He has to be if he's considered one of the best up-and-coming chefs. Or to work in one of the best restaurants in the world with three Michelin stars.

"I don't know. I'll need references," you speak as if not believing him.

Carmy smiles and softly chuckles, "Fair enough."

There's a moment of silence between the two of you that Carmy is quick to fill, "So, uh, have you had dinner yet by chance?" This is it.

You shake your head no and look at him with hopeful eyes.

"Wanna go grab pizza? I know a place," he asks, finding your gaze on him.

"Say no more," you say, closing your laptop and taking off your glasses. "I'm starving."

Carmy waits for you to lock Bee Hive and grab your things. Then, you both walk to the pizza place. To pass the time, you and Carmy talk about your days and anything that comes to mind. Nothing serious as you get to know each other.

Waiting in line to order the pizza, you tell him all about your nickname and how you were donned 'Honey' to everyone who knows you. In return, he tells you about his nickname 'Bear' and why his restaurant is named as such. For the first time, he dares mention Mickey.

"Best pizza in Chicago," Carmy says, taking a slice of the pie and placing it on your plate.

"I'll see about that," you murmur. You wait until he has a slice of his own and dig in simultaneously.

"It's good, but this is not the best pizza place in Chicago," you say after chewing the first bite, "I'm gonna get your chef license revoked."

"Are you? With what proof? Have you tried all the pizza places to know?"

"I don't have to because I've tried the best," you hum, taking another bite. The cheese stretches as you pull it away.

"Oh yeah? Which one?" Carmy questions you, taking a drink of his beer.

"Mine. The pizza I make is the best," you shrug modestly.

"Wait. You cook?" Carmy asks, giving you a look of surprise.

Cooking is a universal thing. Most people know how to cook up to a degree, yet only some are as confident in their skills as you are. You know you're definitely not up to Carmy's level, but if there is something you know how to do properly, it's pizza.

"Yeah! You're not the only good cook here, Berzatto," you sass back at him, dipping the pizza crust in the marinara sauce.

"Sorry for assuming," he raises his palms.

"You're forgiven," you chirp.

"When will I try this famous pizza of yours then?" Carmy wonders. An attempt to see if you'd like to see more of him.

"I promise I'll make it for you once you open The Bear. You're too stressed to fully enjoy it now," you respond. You were reaching out. Throwing hints that you want this to continue in the foreseeable future.

The conversation continues to flow with an empty pizza box in front of you. Customers come and go until it's only the two of you and a drunk customer picking up his pizza.

"Tell me about your tattoos. Were they an act of rebellion or something else?"

It's an excuse to touch his hands. You reach for them, turning them to see the black ink on his hands and fingers. You gently trace over them with the pads of your fingers. Over the hand that's stabbed, the letters S.O.U. on his knuckles and the forget-me-nots. The one you're dying to touch, though, is the one on his bicep; you'd give anything to feel the hard muscle underneath the rolled-up sleeves of his white t-shirt.

"Uh, my first tattoo is the 773. Got it when I left Chicago for the first time. After that, I sort of became addicted to them. I found they helped my anxiety when it was becoming too much. The pain distracted me and made me feel stronger than I actually was," he says, letting you touch him. He finds that he likes it. Your touch is soft and warm. Comforting.

"So what you're trying to say is you're a masochist," you say, bouncing your eyebrows at him. Your touch goes further up his arm to turn it and look at the fish tattoo on his forearm.

"I guess so," Carmy responds with a breathy laugh, "Do you have any tattoos?"

"Maybe…" You shrug as the pads of your fingers trail back down to his palm until you pull them back towards you. Carmy instantly misses the feeling, opting to cross his arms to retain the warmth you left behind.

"It's bad, isn't it?" He says knowingly. Your reaction told him everything he needed to know.

"The worst," you grimace, shaking your head at the memory of you getting it.

"So, rebellion or something else?"

"Rebellion. For all the wrong reasons," you groan, burying your face in your hands, "Growing up, everyone saw me as a good girl because that's what I was. Breaking the rules terrified me. So, as a teenager, I didn't want to be seen as a goody two shoes, so the summer before I went to college, I decided that getting a tattoo would make me a badass."

"Did it work?"

"God, no. I only got the outline done 'cause it hurt like a bitch. Then I went crying to my parents, fully having a meltdown, apologizing for disappointing them," You scrunch your nose as you say the following words, "They laughed in my face, called me a wimp, and told me to suck it up."

Carmy fully laughs at your story. Head thrown back, eyes closing, "What did you get?"

"That's a secret, Berzatto," you purse your lips, avoiding responding. You just know he'll make fun of you for it.

Everyone who has seen your tattoo has made fun of you for it, yourself included. It's so silly and not badass. Carmy will have to wait to see your tattoo, and you hope this continues so he can see it up close.

"Really? That bad?" Carmy stares wide-eyed.

"It's terrible," you nod, leaning on the table. "We should probably get going before the waitress throws a fit."

Carmy looks over his shoulder to see the waitress glaring at them. It's five minutes till close, and they've made no move to go. He turns back to you and nods towards the door. Carmy helps you with your jacket and leaves a tip on the jar for the waitress. At that, she happily calls after them with a 'Good night!'

"Do you live far?" Carmy asks, seeing how dark it is now that most places have closed. There are too many lamp posts that aren't working. He'd feel better if he could walk you home or you called an Uber. Preferably the former.

"Only a couple of blocks away. Why?"

"It's late. Let me walk you home," Carmy says decidedly, not giving you much of a choice.

"Thanks," you respond with a small smile.

The pace you set is slow. You don't want your time with Carmy to end just yet. He's such an interesting and sweet guy. He's a little awkward, but it adds to his charm, and you can see he's trying.

Somewhere along the way, his hand brushes against yours briefly. Then, it happens again, and you decide to bite the bullet. You grasp his hand in yours.

"Is this okay?" You ask when he falls silent.

Carmy doesn't have a lot of experience with girls. He can't even remember the last time he held a girl's hand. All he knows is he doesn't remember ever feeling this good. "Yes, uh, this is okay."

Carmy walks you up to your front door when you reach your house. You unlock the door but stay outside face-to-face with Carmy.

"Thanks for the pizza," you say, fiddling with your fingers. You were about to make one more move for the night. Because as long as Carmy allows you, you'll keep pushing for more.

"Sorry, it wasn't the best," he retorts, rubbing his jaw with his hand. You notice he does that a lot when nervous.

"Your company made up for it," you reassure him, "g'night Carmy." You kiss his cheek goodbye, watching as his cheeks blush.

"Night," he whispers.

As you turn to leave, Carmy stops you by grabbing your wrist, "Wait-uh, can I? Uh-shit. Fuck it." For a second, Carmy shuts out the excessive thoughts in his head and does what he's been dying to do for weeks.

Carmy cups your jaw and kisses you. It's soft and slow. He gives you enough leeway to pull away if it's something you don't want, but you reciprocate eagerly. You've been waiting for this all night.

As confidence surges through his body, Carmy throws an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. You wrap your arms around him, one of your hands resting on his neck, tangling on his curls. The tug of your fingers feels like heaven.

The kiss turns needy and desperate, your lips moving perfectly in sync. His tongue brushes over your lip; Carmy has been dying to test a theory. Are you as sweet as your name?

He's rewarded by a little noise in the back of your throat as he slips his tongue into your mouth. It's endearing, and he finds a way to make you do it again. With heads tilting to deepen the kiss, he concludes he was right. You're pure honey. Sweet and addicting.

When Carmy returns to his apartment, he gets the urge to create, to cook. He wants to bring your taste to life with his cooking. Something with honey.

"I was wondering if you'd want to come to the restaurant for Family and Friends."

You and Carmy are in your little office at Bee Hive. He stands between your legs as you sit on the desk. His lips are slightly red and swollen, and the hair at the nape of his neck is messier than usual.

"Hm, I could be persuaded," you pretend to think as you play with the golden chain around his neck, pulling him towards you.

"Yeah?" Carmy laughs, leaning to brush his lips against yours. When he feels you nod, he closes the small gap between the two of you.

His hands hold your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. He tastes like coffee, which is to be expected from the discarded cup beside you. It's funny how your relationship, if it could be called that, has moved all around Bee Hive from the register to the front and now to your office.

You're at a weird spot where you're not exactly friends because friends don't kiss, but you're not a couple either. It's a situationship for sure. You're content with what you have now, although you'd also love it if Carmy were to ask you to be more. You pin it on him being shy. He'll get around to it.

"What do you say?" Carmy questions as he kisses a trail from your cheek to your jaw.

"Consider me in," you giggle when he kisses a tickly spot.

Carmy brushes a strand of hair out of your face, remaining close to you. This is what he needs. After months of stress and anxiety of having to deal with The Beef, now The Bear, he needed you and your calming presence. Someone removed from the chaos, a safe haven.

He's quiet as his thoughts consume him, and you take the intimate position to fix his gold chain. Turning it so the clasp faces the back instead of the front. "I'm excited, Carmy," you say with a smile, brushing his cheek with your thumb.

"You can bring someone with you," Carmy offers nervously because he realizes he probably won't have the time to spend much time with you. "I-I don't think I'll be around much. I'm sorry. I'd understand if that makes you change your mind," Carmy drops his head as he braces himself for disappointment.

As the weeks pass, you learn more about Carmy and his insecurities. It doesn't deter you from wanting to be with him. Everyone has their issues. "Berzatto, stop. Look at me," you softly divert his attention, "I'd love to go and support you even if it's from the sidelines."

"You sure?" He asks once more.

If reassurance is what he needs, that's what you'll give. "Don't worry about me. This is your moment, Carmy. Enjoy it. I'll be around afterward."

"Thank you for understanding," Carmy responds, stealing one more kiss from you.

When he returns to The Bear, he helps Sydney prep the dishes they finally chose to serve. He notes how everything is laid out and anything they should fix before opening.

Richie struts into the kitchen with a suit on. Apparently, it's his thing now. Carmy figures staging at Chef Terry's restaurant had a good impact on him. All Carmy wanted was to show Richie he had what it takes. That he's not a fuck up.

"Glad to see things are going well with Honey," Richie thunders.

"What are you talking about?" Carmy says in a rush as he plates the lamb expertly.

"That thing on your neck," Richie says, motioning to his own neck. He has a smug look on his face.

"I don't have time for this, cousin," Carmy grumbles, wiping the plate where the sauce might've splattered.

Groaning, Richie grabs one of the new pans and holds it in front of Carmy. "I don't see anything," he frowns, looking at Richie for an explanation.

"Right here," Richie points towards the edge of his t-shirt around his neck.

Carmy pulls it back and finally spots what Richie has been referring to. There is a fading purple bruise on his skin, a hickey. You must've done it when he was back in your office. He'd been too busy touching you to notice.

Sydney, silently watching, pipes up, "No wonder he hasn't been as on edge lately." Carmy shoots her a glare, which causes her to shrug and laugh with a, "What? It's true."

"Ay, yo, Sugar, get in here!" Richie yells down the hall to the office.

"What is it?" Natalie barges in, afraid something went to shit.

Carmy ignores Richie as he babbles to Natalie what he found. His face is red, though, as Sydney nudges his side.

"That's enough about me. We have shit to do," Carmy shouts in his chef's voice.

Everyone in the kitchen, including Richie and Natalie, repeats, "Yes, chef!"

Walking out of the kitchen Richie, 'whispers' to Natalie, "I've always wondered if he likes to be called chef in bed."

"Fuck off, Richie," Natalie glares, but then it falls, and it's replaced with a teasing grin, "He definitely does."

"I heard that! Don't you two have better things to do?" Carmy screams at them.

"Yes, chef!"

Carmy keeps hearing Cicero's 'Uh-oh' throughout the whole day. He understands Cicero, he really does, but to call you a distraction?

His work with The Bear is only starting. They managed to make it to Friends and Family. Now, they have to keep up their best work to fill up the restaurant daily and have a waiting list. His work is far from done. He should listen to Cicero.

Cicero said it with the best of intentions. He doesn't want the Berzatto siblings to fail. He wants to believe they'll succeed and, most importantly, get him his money.

If there is something Cicero has learned throughout the years, it is that girls are distractions. They mean well, but oftentimes, they keep your eyes off the ball. Especially when it's a new relationship like Carmy's. Ultimately, it's up to Carmy to decide what he wants to do. Cicero has played his part by giving him his advice.

One last delivery is made to the restaurant an hour before opening. Richie is the one to receive it and place it in front of Carmy. "She's a keeper, Cousin," he says with a pointed look and a nod. He also wants the best for Carmy, and yet it doesn't align with Cicero.

You knew Carmy would be too stressed and all over the place to eat or drink, so you sent everyone at The Bear a drink and a pastry. One of the cups has Carmen's name with a little heart and 'good luck' written on it.

"Yeah, she is," Carmy sighs, turning the cup in his hands to look at the message. His thumb brushes over your handwriting longingly. Is listening to Cicero the wise thing to do? He's one of the most successful men he knows in his family.

When it's 10 minutes till open, Carmy changes into his uniform and looks in the mirror. His heart is racing, begging for Friends and Family not to be a complete failure. Walking out of the bathroom, Carmy is a man on a mission.

It starts relatively well, but like everything in Carmy's life, the kitchen starts welcoming in the chaos.

They are too slow getting the orders out, which causes Sydney to start doubting herself and asking Carmy to step in. He reassures her she's doing good. They just have to keep up the pace.

Then, one of the new chefs disappears mid-rush. Forcing Tina to work two stations and Marcus to step out of his to help Sydney. Carmy ignores some weird tension between them as he works on ensuring the dishes are good to go.

Next thing he knows, Sugar is rushing into the kitchen, yelling at him about forks. It's wasted time, as he can't do anything about it. A shrill reverberates inside his head as he looks at the ticking clock. It's enough to give him a headache.

With no one to take a dish to its table, Carmy takes it upon himself to do it. There's no time to re-fire or wait for someone. He places it on their table and pours the tea into their cups before retreating with an 'enjoy.'

He looks at his restaurant, and suddenly, the ringing in his head gets louder. Sitting in a booth is his old boss, staring back at him like he did back in New York. Like he was waiting for Carmy to fail.

His voice echoes in Carmy's head. Why are you so fuckin' slow. Hurry up. Go faster motherfucker. Talentless piece of shit.

Right before Carmy spirals, it all goes away. His focus shifts entirely as he sees you taking your seat for the night. The one he chose because he'd be able to see you from the kitchen. You have successfully blocked the mirage he'd conjured up.

You're there with your brother as Richie talks you up, thanking you for coming. As if sensing him, your eyes lock with Carmys. Shyly, you send him a wave, which he returns, thanking you in his head for getting there at the perfect time.

Carmy ducks back to the kitchen with newfound energy. Richie enters shortly after him.

"Chef, your girl is here."

"Thanks, Chef, um, do you have the notepad?" Carmy asks as he continues cleaning dishes and making sure each one is up to par.

"Here you go."

Taking the notepad from Richie, he begins scribbling. I love- No, too fuckin' soon. Thank you for- Nope, it's too stale.

I'm happy you're here, Honey. Wait for me after you're done? -Bear

"Here," Carmy hands it to him without even looking at Richie.

"Keep up the good work, Chefs," Richie yells out to the room before disappearing to the front of the house. The door swinging shut behind him.

"Yes, Chef!"

Something isn't working in the kitchen. They're too backed up, and no matter how hard they try, they're always a tad too slow. Through Sydney surrounding the wheel to Richie, Carmy steals glances out the kitchen window. You're smiling at whatever your brother says, your lips sipping the wine he chose. Carmy can get through this night because, in the end, you'll be waiting for him.

"There he is," you sing as you spot Carmy walking out of the kitchen. The chef's whites back in his locker as he sports his white t-shirt, jeans, and jacket.

Fak, who kept you company while Carmy finished up, speaks up next, "My brother, I'm gonna grab a sandwich and head home. Honey, it was a pleasure meeting you."

"You too, Neil!"

"Thanks for everything," Carmy tells him, giving him a hug and a pat like dudes do.

Carmy turns and grabs your hand to pull you close and kiss your cheek. "What did you think?"

"It was the most delicious thing I've ever tasted," you tell him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

There's a reason Carmy has had so many accolades despite his young age. He has a gift in the kitchen. The moment his food touched your taste buds, your life changed. He and Sydney outdid themselves, and the way everything flowed showed how much work they put into the restaurant.

"You're exaggerating," Carmy modestly says, his arms wrapping around your waist.

"I'm really not," you shake your head, pursing your lips. Carmy can't resist placing a small peck on your red-painted lips.

"What about your famous pizza?"

"No, it might be the best pizza in Chicago, but whatever I ate today topped it," you smile at him, scrunching your nose. "Consider your chef's license reinstated,"

"Thanks," Carmy laughs breathily, "Do you mind if we walk? I feel some of the rush still."

"Lead the way, Mr. Berzatto."

Carmy grabs your hand, leading you to the streets of Chicago. It's silent momentarily as the wind cools Carmy's heated face. He places his hand along with yours into his pocket.

"Did your brother like it?" He asks, breaking the ice.

"Oh yeah. I'm officially like the best sister ever," you respond, squeezing his hand.

You had accidentally forgotten that your brother had passed the Bar exam. So, you didn't have time to get him anything in celebration. You figured dinner at a lovely new restaurant would help while you got him a proper present.

"How did you feel throughout, though? It looked intense." You often found yourself looking through the small glass window into the kitchen. They were always on the move, looking for the next thing to do.

"It didn't just look like it. I'm used to it, though," Carmy admits with a sniff. Everyone's best and worst habits shone through for those couple of hours. It's an environment he's all too familiar with, in and out of the kitchen.

"That rough," you grimace.

"It's fine. We have a lot to work on, but it's a start, and it wasn't entirely terrible," Carmy says, thinking back on tonight. Before coming out to meet you, he wrote down a couple of things to go through with Sugar and Sydney.

"Good, 'cause I hope The Bear sticks around the block," you say, bumping your shoulder with his.

You invite Carmy into your house when you arrive. He takes up your offer, holding your hand to help you balance as you take your heels off. It reminds Carmy he forgot to mention how beautiful you looked today.

He follows you to the kitchen, watching your hips sway and your dress skirt swishing. Padding to the wine fridge, you pick out a bottle of red to celebrate.

Carmy indulges in looking at your legs as you stretch up to reach for the glasses of wine up in your cabinets. His blue eyes darken as your dress hikes up, exposing your pretty thighs.

His gaze darts back up at you when you turn around to place the glasses on the kitchen counter. You hand him the wine opener so he can do the honors because you suck at taking the cork out. It's why you mainly stick to cheaper wines with twist-off caps.

"Here is to The Bear and its amazing owner," you say, lifting your glass in front of you.

"Here's to not fuckin' it up entirely," Carmy follows, making you giggle. Your wine glasses clink, and you take a drink.

Placing the glass back down, Carmy pins you against the counter, his strong hands resting on the edge of it. You look at him through your lashes, a hand coming up to his chest to feel the steady thumping of his heart.

"You look beautiful. I like the dress," Carmy murmurs. It's better late than never.

The dress you wear is a pretty shade of light blue. Simple yet dressy. The neckline gives him a good view of your cleavage and has long sleeves to compensate for the shorter length. They currently cover the goosebumps lining your skin.

"Yeah? I picked it out thinking you might," you reveal, biting your lip. The shade reminded you of his eyes.

"You were right," he whispers, cupping your jaw. As pretty as the dress is, he's sure it'll look so much better on the floor.

Carmy closes his eyes as he leans down to kiss you. He's always struggled with words, so he hopes it's enough for you to catch what he's trying to say.

You smile into the kiss, blindly leaving your glass to the side to be able to touch him. Your palm presses against his chest and taut abdomen. He hides a nice amount of muscle under his t-shirts, a pleasant surprise.

Carmy easily lifts you up to sit down on the kitchen island. He steps between your legs, never breaking the heated kiss. The hands on your waist trail down to your thighs and under your dress. Carmy's tattooed hands squeeze your ass and thighs, earning him a moan from you.

This is the farthest you've ever gotten, and you're more than ready to have all of him. Carmy knows this, which leads to his thoughts getting out of control.

He has to make a decision now. Does he allow himself to be with you, or does he remain by himself like always? Richie's, Sugar's, Cicero's, and Sydney's voices all shout at him different things. Some are in favor, and others are in opposition. 'Uh oh.'

He can't lead you on and sleep with you if he will back out tomorrow. The voices become deafening in an instant, ripping him away from your embrace. His emotions bubbled over and spilled all over the place.

"Wait, stop, I just-" Carmy breathes heavily, taking a couple of steps back from you. Carmy's hand comes up to his forehead as he attempts to organize his thoughts.

"What's wrong?" You ask worriedly. Did you do something wrong?

Carmen's thoughts spill out his mouth without making much sense as he paces in your kitchen. "I can't stop thinking about it and owe it to my team..."

"Carm?" You slide off the kitchen counter, approaching him slowly.

"-keeps saying it's a distraction," he rambles mostly to himself. His heart is pounding painfully in his chest. If he didn't know any better, he'd think he was having a heart attack.

"Hey, hey, hey. What's a distraction?" Softly, you grab onto his arms, stopping him in his tracks, trying to find his lost gaze.

"You. Whatever this is," Carmy breathes, finally meeting your eyes, which he instantly regrets as your eyes turn sad.

The watering of your eyes is unintentional, as is the knot forming in your throat. "You think I'm distracting you?" You question barely above a whisper.

His response is instant, "Fuck, no, the opposite. W-When I'm with you or-or think about you, things get clearer, and it's-it's when I feel the most focused." Carmy holds your shoulders, comforting you because he never meant to hurt you. He can't stand the sad look in your eyes.

Slowly, you begin to piece together his rambling and conclude that other people have been telling him you're a distraction. You wonder if they don't want him to be happy. The Bear is the center of Carmy's life, and before that, it was the restaurant in New York. He deserves more than this crazy job.

"Then fuck what others tell you, Carmen. You deserve to have a life outside The Bear." Maybe you're selfish because you don't want to lose him, but you hope he believes your words.

"I-I don't. I don't deserve all your attention or your affection. I'm nothing special. I don't deserve you." Carmy says, shaking his head with furrowed brows.

Weeks ago, he had no source of enjoyment. He said it himself at the support group. Now, he has you, yet he can't bear the thought of you wanting to be with him. He feels like he's tricking you into a bad deal. That's what he is, though, isn't he? An overachieving fuck up with tons upon tons of baggage.

Carmen Berzatto is an anxious person with too many problems in his life. He has a fucked up family. His mother is a mentally unstable alcoholic. His brother was addicted to painkillers and decided that shooting himself on a bridge was better than living this life. That's without mentioning all the trauma he has from his job and the terrible people he's worked with.

What good does he have to offer you?

"Yes, you do," you reassure him, placing your hands on his cheeks. The cool metal of your rings soothes him somewhat, grounding him. "You deserve all that and more, Carmy. You're so sweet and kind and hard-working. You've been through shit. You deserve something good in life. Maybe it's me, or maybe it's not, but don't close yourself off."

You're begging at this point. Whatever this relationship is, it's just starting. He's not giving himself a chance. You like Carmy so damn much. He's funny without knowing it and thoughtful, too. There are so many qualities he doesn't realize he has.

His eyes watch you as tears line them. He's silently pleading for you to convince him. To get him out of his own head and forget the expectations others have on him.

"I'm not going to force you into anything, Carm. It's your call, but I've enjoyed our last couple of months together. I know we don't know each other completely, but I want to know everything about you. I have feelings for you, so whatever you decide, I'll support it."

Being honest is all you can do at this point. You pour your heart out and hope Carmy chooses you.

You and Carmy stand in the middle of your kitchen. Face to face, reaching out towards each other. It's clear as day that you want the same thing. It's only a matter of taking the right steps now.

"I can't let you go," Carmy responds, grabbing the hand on his cheek. His thumb brushes over the back of it.

"Then don't."

Carmy's decision is made. Without another thought, he smashes his lips against yours. He grabs the back of your neck, tilting your head to meet his heated kiss.

It's more intense now that the cards are on the table. Nothing to hold him back.

Tongues clash together as your bodies seek each other out. The temperature rises when Carmy lifts you up to wrap your legs around his hips. His hands are on the back of your thighs, holding tight onto you.

"Bedroom?" He asks, breaking the kiss, a trail of saliva between the two of you.

"Down the hallway," you breathe heavily, kissing down his neck.

Carmy makes it to the bedroom, opening the door with a bang. He spots your bed, placing you in the middle with him holding himself up on top of you.

He watches as your back meets the bed and your fair fans around you like a halo. The curvature of your breasts accentuated even more from the position.

Carmy hikes your leg further up his hips as he dips down to kiss a wet trail down to the neckline of your dress. He leaves open-mouthed kisses on the rounded flesh, nipping at the skin playfully when you arch your back to push more into him.

"Carmy," you breathe, cupping his jaw to pull him back to your lips. Grinding your hips, you manage to graze against his bulge.

"Shit," Carmy shakily curses, thrusting his hips to meet your touch once more.

Curiously, your hands wander across his body. Carmy's moans in your ear make your panties wetter than they already are.

You grasp the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and off. You're desperate to have him, your cunt aches for him. Your nails scratch down his firm stomach when he bites into your earlobe, softly calling your name.

"Unzip me," you pant, pushing him away and pulling your hair off to the side.

Carmy grabs the small zipper, pushing it down and exposing your pretty skin. As he slides the fabric off of you, he kisses your shoulders and back, taking note of the goosebumps on your skin.

His mind is in the present, and nothing can take it away from him. It's like a switch he managed to turn off in his brain. No more family drama, no more The Bear. It's just you...and him. Honey and Bear.

You stretch your neck to the side, giving Carmy more space to pepper kisses across the delicate skin. The dress pooling at your feet exposes your chest, and Carmy's hands come up from behind you. His fingers shyly brush up your stomach, tickling you, until they find your breasts.

He draws a moan from you as he squeezes them in his palms, pushing you back to meet his chest; turning your head to the side, you find his lips.

The kiss breaks when he slides one of his hands into your underwear, dipping his finger to feel your wetness. Your arm reaches back to dig your fist in his curls.

"You're soaked, Honey," he moans, finding your clit to tease it.

"Been waiting for so long, Carmy," you whine as your hips stutter along with the flicks of his wrist.

"I'm sorry. I'm here now," he purrs into your ear.

Carmy can hear the distinct 'shlick, shlick, shlick' of his fingers against your clit. It spurs him on as he slips a finger into you. He can't wait to have his cock inside of you, snug and warm.

"Oh my god, Carmen," you gasp when he prods another finger into your entrance. Hanging onto his arm across your chest, you roll your hips against his fingers.

"I got you," he says, digging his fingers deeper into you and curling them.

Your knees buckle as the tips of his fingers curl and hit your g spot repeatedly. If it weren't for him, you'd be on the floor. With your tummy tensing under the weight of the pleasure, you stutter out, "I'm gonna cum."

Carmy's hand is wet from your juices as he ups the ante. Just as your walls begin to squeeze around his fingers, he pulls them out to circle around your clit.

"Oh, f-fuck!" You squeal, throwing your head back onto his shoulder.

The way your clit softly twitches under the pads of his fingers fucks with Carmy. It makes his cock throb and leak into his jeans.

Untangling from his embrace, you place a breathless kiss on Carmy's lips. His slick digits dig into your hips as he prolongs it.

Blindly, you find the edge of his jeans and unbutton them. If Carmy notices, he doesn't say anything. You want to give him one more reason to stay with you.

He moans into your mouth when you grasp his length through his boxers. He's rock hard as he desperately ruts against your hand.

With your hold still on him, you push him to sit on the bed. Carmy looks up at you lustfully. You plant a single short kiss on his lips before kneeling on the floor between his legs. You leave love bites down his chest while looking up at him through your lashes.

Carmy brushes away any hair that falls on your face, his blue eyes focused solely on you. When you reach the waistband of his pants, you pull them down along with his underwear.

His length pops up from its confines, slapping against his tummy. Its tip is a pretty pink shade, with a thick length and a slight curve to it. You salivate instantly at the sight of it.

Carmy's nervous under you. It's been a long since he's been with someone else, and he's never been the most confident.

"Relax," you say teasingly, kissing around his lower tummy to calm him.

Finally, your hand wraps around his cock, lightly pumping it. Leaving sloppy kisses down his happy trail, you feel Carmy's stomach taut in anticipation.

It's been so fuckin' long.

With your eyes staring into his hungry ones, you kiss the pink head that glistens with pre, teasingly brushing it against your lips. Keeping eye contact, you lick his length from base to tip. You alternate between kissing and licking for a minute, enjoying watching Carmy squirm.

"Fuck, Honey," Carmy throws his head back at your torturous pace.

"Look at me," you sweetly say.

Taking mercy on him, you part your lips to take his length into your warm, wet mouth, bobbing your head to a steady rhythm. Prying one of Carmy's hands from the bedsheets, you place it in your hair, encouraging him to use you.

"Good girl," he moans, fisting your hair to force you to take more of his cock. You let your hands rest on his thighs, feeling the strong muscles underneath.

Carmen observes you with hooded eyes as you hollow your cheeks, sucking him expertly. He's obsessed with how your lips leave behind a tinge of red lipstick on his skin.

"Shit-Fuck me," he yells into the room when you swallow around him.

You want him to cum, but Carmy has other plans. He doesn't think he'll last long if you make him cum now, so after the stunt you pulled, he pulls you off his sensitive cock.

The sight in front of him is erotic as a string of saliva connects you to his cock. The tears lining your eyes and blushed nose add to that pretty picture.

"c'me 'ere," he says, helping you up and kissing you as he leads you back to the bed. He tugs off your wet panties, throwing them somewhere in the room.

You lay back on your pillows with Carmy slotted between your legs. It's torture having him so close and yet so far. Now that you've gotten a taste of his cock you need more.

Carmy touches the inside of your thighs, inching his way closer to your cunt. He instantly notices how fuckin' wet you are. You're dripping even more than before.

"Sucking me off, got you this wet, princess?" He asks, leaning his forehead against yours.

"Mhm, Carmy, wish you would've cum in my mouth," you admit, tilting your head up to brush your lips against his.

"You have such a dirty fuckin' mouth," he chuckles darkly.

Where did this side of you come from? You're usually so sweet and delicate. He should've known you would be a freak in bed. To think he almost let this all go.

"Carmen, please."

"Please, what?" Carmen teases, lining his cock against your opening, wetting his cock.

"Fuck me," you moan, kissing his jaw.

"'m gonna fuck you good, princess," he promises, with a shaky nod before he remembers, "Fuck! I-I don't have a condom with me."

"I should have some in my drawer," you mention breathlessly.

Carmy opens the condom in record time but is surprised when you take it from his hands and roll it down his shaft yourself. You just want an excuse to keep touching him.

With your leg hiked up, he aligns himself and slowly pushes in. You both gasp at the sensation. Carmy, for one, is trying to not bust a nut so soon because you're so tight and warm.

Meanwhile, you hold onto Carmy's back as he stretches you out. It's been so long, and your toys aren't nearly as thick as him. You breathily moan in his ear, which he takes as a good sign as he begins thrusting more forcefully and deeper.

Carmy hopes this isn't a dream, and if it is, he hopes he doesn't wake up anytime soon. He has one hand holding onto your thigh and the other holding himself up. His gold chain dangles above you as he picks his head up from its spot on your shoulder. You take the chance to tug on it, returning his attention to your lips.

"You feel so fuckin' good, princess," Carmy groans, squeezing your thigh.

"I love your cock, Carmy," you whine, feeling the drag of his cock on your walls. The pleasure is all-consuming, leaving a fuzzy feeling in your brain.

"You like when I fuck you like this?"

"Yes, yes, yes, keep going."

His hips snap hard against yours, hitting that spot each and every time. His pelvis hitting your clit. He squeezes your thigh, hips, and sides before his hand squeezes your tits, too, playing with your nipples.

Suddenly, he straightens up, pulling you down the bed to have you flushed against his pelvis. He's a sight for sore eyes that forces you to keep your eyes open.

His thrusts are more forceful like this, where he digs his fingers into the fat of your hips to pull you towards him with each snap. It makes your tits bounce, hypnotizing him.

Through your lustful gaze, he looks like a marble statue. His chest glimmers under the lowlights of your room as sweat clings to him, his chain jumping against the blushed skin of his chest, and his fucking hair falling over his pretty eyes. The set of his jaw could've been sculpted by Michaelangelo himself.

Your hands indulgently reach down to touch him in any way you can. You can only reach his stomach, where a nice pair of abs appear due to the effort.

"You like what you see?" Carmy teases. He's entirely lost on you because otherwise, he wouldn't be as cocky to say that.

"You're so handsome," you pitifully say. Your brain not computing as it should, but how can it when it's being fucked out of you?

Carmy doesn't know how to respond. It's not often he's called handsome or looked at as lustfully as you're looking at him. Thankfully, he doesn't need to say much as your eyes roll back and you squeeze your walls around him.

"Carmy, I'm so close," you pant, trying to find any part of him to hold. He offers you his hand, lacing your fingers together.

"Just a little longer, princess," Carmy groans as you clench around him. "Fuck, don't do that to me."

He glances down at the spot where you and him meet to see a ring of white on the base of his cock. He's enthralled with the way you stretch to accommodate him and the way your pink walls drag along his length when he pulls out. Fuckin' beautiful.

Putting all his knowledge to use, he thumbs your clit, making you jolt. He needs you to cum now, or he won't make it. His balls feel like they're about to burst.

"Carmy," you cry out, tightening the hold on his hand.

You teeter on the edge for only a second until you cum, waves of pleasure washing over you. Carmy curses from above you as your tightening walls choke his cock, making him cum too. He stutters his hips a couple more times, riding out his orgasm.

He leans back down again, catching your lips in a small kiss. His body slowly relaxes against yours as his head rests on your neck, breathing in the scent of sweat and perfume.

"That was good," you breathe heavily, rubbing your hands up and down your back. You're just starting to think clearly.

"Fuckin' amazing," he adds.

There's a beat of silence before you both burst out laughing.

A bubble encases you, and it can't be popped as long as you stay in your bedroom. Carmy doesn't want to leave; it's late already, and in a couple of hours, he has to get up and go to The Bear to repeat the process.

For once, he forgets about that and focuses solely on you. He has a couple of hours to spare. Sleep is overrated.

You face each other on the bed, talking in hushed whispers. Your fingers trace the '773' tattoo on his bicep like you've always wanted to do. It tickles Carmy, so he grabs your hand and kisses your palm.

"Now that I'm thinking about it. I didn't see your tattoo," he whispers to prevent disturbing the peace.

Your face warms at his words. You had forgotten about that. He's seen a lot of you in the past couple of hours. What's a bit more of skin?

"You missed my big bad tattoo?" you joke, poking his nose.

"Show me," he says with a lopsided smile.

You make it dramatic, rolling your eyes and giving him a big sigh. Sitting up on the bed, you peel the bed sheets from your body. Carmy props himself up on his elbow in anticipation.

Right there, on your left side and under the curve of your breast is a small outline of Winnie the Pooh's face. Carmy touches it, biting his lip to hold back a laugh. Unsurprisingly, it's precisely what he expected from you.

A few chuckles pass his lips as he pulls you back into his arms.

"Don't laugh. It made sense at the time," you whine, covering yourself back up.

Carmy pulls you to his chest, kissing your temple, "I'm sure it does. Pooh Bear loves his Honey," Just like he does.

"Exactly! Someone gets it!"

And he does because Carmy, aka The Bear, is quickly falling for his Honey.

A couple of days later, Carmy is back at your house helping you prepare the famous pizza you promised him. He lets you take the lead on everything, preferring to follow your instructions rather than let his mind run wild. It's not like you'll let him do most of the work anyway; it's your recipe, and you're protective over it.

"Can you chop up the veggies?" You ask him as you lay down the dough in a pan.

"Yes, Chef," he nods, kissing your cheek as he digs through your kitchen drawers for a knife.

"Oh, I like the sound of that," you muse, shaking your shoulders as you knead the dough to spread it.

"Don't let it get to your head, Hun," Carmy smiles, slicing the vegetables expertly.

Cooking with Carmy is surprisingly easier than you thought. He's not controlling over the kitchen or judgy. He lets you do your thing in peace, following your orders no matter how strange they might be. This is your kitchen, not his.

As you spread the sauce and cheese over one of the doughs, Carmy gets a call. He wipes his hands with a rag and picks it up. You only hear his side of the conversation.

"No, I'm off tonight. I'm with my girl. Call Sugar. She should be able to help you with that. Great. Thanks."

Carmy had promised himself that he would try to balance it all better. He has his team to help each other out. The Bear is a priority, but so are you because you help him keep whatever sanity he has left.

Carmy hangs up, and when he returns to you, he notices the grin on your lips as you put the toppings he chopped on the pizza.

"What's with the smile?" Carmy stands behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he props his head on your shoulder. Your hair tickles his nose, smelling the notes of coconut of your shampoo he digs his head farther into it.

"I'm your girl?" You ask, the smile still present on your face. He'd missed your initial reaction when you heard him call you 'my girl.' You almost dropped the container of pepperoni that was in your hands. It's a shock cause he never asked you to be his girl.

Carmy pauses and tenses up against you. "Uh, yes? Hold up. Turn around," he orders, as he places his hand on your hips to turn your body around.

"Yes, chef," you respond cheekily, your arms around his neck, careful not to touch his sweater with your messy hands.

"Aren't you my girl?" He frowns, rubbing a thumb over your hips.

"I could be, but I don't remember you asking," you pretend to think.

Carmy never directly asked you to be his girlfriend, and you never asked him to be your boyfriend. You might as well be a couple since you've been dating long enough. You decide to seize the opportunity now to get it out of him. Having a proper anniversary day would be nice because you hope this lasts.

"I see, my mistake," Carmy nods, catching your vibe, "Honey…"

"Yes, Carmy?" You blink innocently at him.

"Would you do me the honor of becoming my girlfriend?" He finally asks.

You could joke around but decided against it cause the moment is perfect, "I'd love to," you nod, giving him a small kiss.

When the pizza is cooked, you bring it over to the dining table. Serving Carmy a pretty slice. Excitedly, you wait for him to bite into it and taste it.

"What do you think?" You ask expectantly.

"You were right. Best pizza in Chicago," Carmy agrees with an unbelievable laugh. He's got a lot to learn from you. It's the truth, or maybe he's blinded by his feelings. Only time will tell where you and Carmy will end up.

The End?

thank you guys for pulling through and reading! i know it's a slow burn but i hope you liked it! i certainly enjoyed writing it even though it took me like 4 months.

if you liked it, i would appreciate you liking it, commenting or reblogging. if you have some feedback feel free to send it my way too. i wanna get better at this whole writing thing!

thank you! bye xx

[deadsetobsessions]

Danny hadn't ever been on this side of the equation before.

He stared at his old phone, the prickle of unease scratching at his neck.

Danny was the one that died. He was the one that died and came back. He'd never asked anyone how it had felt to see him die over and over again to become Phantom. Danny was starting to think that maybe he should have, if only so that he wouldn't be blindsided about what he felt now.

"Danny? Y'okay?"

Danny glanced up at the mumbled words, numbed eyes looking at Jason's sleep-heavy face.

"Hm?"

"Ya've been lookin' at that thing for an hour now. You good?"

Danny blinked at him, like the world was a sea of bittersweet molasses and he was the sailor drowning beneath its waves. "...Remember how I told you that you reminded me of my sister?"

There was apprehension on Jason's face now. It was a gentle kind of apprehension, softened by worry and love.

“Yeah…?”

Danny gestured for Jason to come closer. He opened the phone and tapped on Jazz.

“Woah. She kinda looks like me.” Jason tugged at his black hair. “Y’know, if I kept my red hair.”

Danny smiled, sad and tired. “Yeah. She really liked reading. And she always wanted to know more. Help more. Like you,” Danny’s eyes laid on the folded uniform of Robin on the kitchen table. He hugged Jason closer. “You remind me of her.”

“What… what happened to her?”

Danny hadn’t cried for a long, long time. Even when Jazz spoke to him in half remembered whispers and in Jason’s actions, he could not shed a tear. But something about today, something about those pictures, opened up a poorly scabbed wound and Danny’s face dripped with slow tears.

“She died,” he whispered. “I brought the vigilante life to her and she died protecting me.”

“Oh. That’s why you were so mad, then.” Jason looked down at the picture, blue eyes tracing the face of the woman that looked so similar to him.

“Yeah.”

“I won’t die, Danny,” Jason promised.

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Jay." Danny squeezed Jason's shoulders before wiping away his tears. He inhaled, a slow, shuddering breath, before straightening. "You are so grounded."

"But- Robin!"

"Jason will always come before Robin. And Jason is grounded because Jason lied to me about being Robin and where he was going and whether or not he was safe."

And really, wasn't that the crux of the issue? Danny didn't have any problem with Jason going out and starting fights. He had no problem with how Jason wanted to help. But the thought of loosing him- loosing his loved ones after only learning to keep them clutched to his heart before he looses them- drove Danny down a spiral that he could not afford to enter again.

How many times had Danny almost lose Jason? How many times did he come to loosing the only good thing in Gotham? How many times had he laid asleep, not knowing whether Jason was bleeding out in an alley somewhere? How close had Danny come to waking up to news of Jason's cold corpse?

It made him furious. More than that, it made him terrified. Never in his half life had he ever been afraid to this extent. Not even for Jazz. It made him want to drown the feeling with enough booze to down a speedster. But he couldn't. Not now, not with Jason. His little brother deserved better than that. Not to mention the shit his little brother would get up to if he weren't fully there.

"But first, you gotta help me with something."

"... Fine."

Danny got up and bee-lined towards his booze stash. They're going out. Right now. He shoved the bottles into a tote bag.

"Let's go. We're destroying this."

"We are?"

"I can't be drunk and teach you how to vigilante."

"You're okay with me being Robin?" Hesitant blue eyes peered up at him. Danny's heart melted, the traitorous little shit.

"Not really. But I can't stop you, so I might as well make sure you live past 25." He jabbed Jason's forehead. "And I'll be reaming out Batman the next time he swings by, now that I'm not pissed as hell. I'll make sure it hurts."

"He's not that bad."

Danny sent him an unimpressed look and Jason mimed zipping his mouth closed, twisiting an imaginary key and throwing it over his shoulder. The little shit thinks he's got jokes. (He does, but Danny's supposed to be mad with him right now, so he'll never admit he thinks Jason's funny.)

They walked out of the apartment complex and turned to the right, right into the alley.

Did his heart give a little twinge every time Jason tossed the booze? Yes. But the hopeful thrill in his little brother's countenance made up for every single penny he spent.

"So... How long am I grounded for?"

At the reminder, Danny's hands clamped around one of the last bottles a little harsher than necessary.

"You... are grounded for- till college." He gritted out, tossing the bottle.

Jason's horrified "For- till college?!" rang nicely against the shattering of Danny's booze. Danny grinned and gave Jason a noogie.

"For till college," He affirmed, joking tone making Jason grumble, struggling to get out of the hold. "Or, for like, a week."

---

"Hey, Danny?"

Danny grunted, rousing slightly from his nap on the couch. They had been watching a show in the middle of Jason's grounding when he had drifted off.

"Did I ever tell you I had a brother?"

Danny's eyes flew open. "... No. Do you want to?"

Danny swiveled his head to look at Jason, who sat with his back against the couch and his head set aglow by the light of the TV. He looked... sad. Lonely.

"His name was Danny too."

Danny's heart shot right up to his throat. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. He died." Danny couldn't help the thought that passed him. Me too, buddy, me too. "I thought you were him. 'S why I talked ta ya, even if y're drinkin'."

Danny tilted his head back, silently closing his eyes in grief. It was fate, that wily Ancient.

"Is that... bad?"

"Nah. You're as good a brother as he was."

"Thank you for telling me, Jason."

"Whatever."

Danny laid back down, the thread of a memory all but confirming his theory.

"Come on, Danny-o, Jazz was being a good sister!"

Five year old Danny pulled the blanket up to his chin, pouting. His mother laughed.

"That's right, sweetie. She was trying to make sure you didn't get sick."

"I don't want Jazz! I want- I want a brother instead!"

His parents exchanged amused looks. "Well, Danny-o, you almost had a brother."

"Really?" Danny turned around, curious.

"Really. If Jazz was a boy, we would have named him Jason!" His dad laughed, ruffling his hair.

Danny wrinkled his nose. "Ew. I like Jazz better... oh."

[taintedcigs]

˚ · • . ° . 𝐑𝐄𝐃, 𝐒𝐎𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐄𝐓.

summary: you and your boyfriend eddie decide to have some fun in the living room, what you fail to notice is that your boyfriends roommate steve is also awake. and he can’t help himself.

warnings: smut smut smut, minors DNI, p in v, creampie, unprotected (wrap it up irl im so serious), kinda pervy!steve, msturbation, degrading, praises, kind of a choking kink if u squint, VERY LIGHT dom/sub dynamics (like very very light), dom!eddie, sub!reader.

pairings: boyfriend!eddie munson x reader x roommate!steve harrington

author’s note: i just love steddie. if you see me repost this a few times no u didn't. not proof-read. ignore mistakes!!

Steve wasn't a morning person.

So it was no surprise when he tossed in the bed, groaning and whining at the noise coming outside of his room.

His pillow was smushed against his ears, attempting to cancel out the noise.

“F—fuck, s—shit, angel, take it, mmpf.” He barely had one eye open, and couldn't make up most of the dialogue, so he tried to make sense of the noise coming from the living room. 

He removed the pillow from his ear, face scrunched in annoyance as he listened in.

Grunts, whines, and the slapping of skin mixed together, with Steve’s hazed state, he could barely make sense of it. But once he heard your pretty whines his eyes shot open. 

Holy fucking shit. The two of you weren’t doing what he thought you were… Were you?

He sat up quickly, hand rubbing his eyes before he carefully situated himself on the bed to look through the gap where his door had opened slightly. 

“Fuuuuck, just like that, princess, take my cock, mhmm.” Another grunt from Eddie, his skin slapping into yours, head thrown back, his hold on your waist bruisingly rough. Or at least that’s what Steve imagined, hearing Eddie’s raspy voice mixed with your silenced grunts was enough to fuel his morning wood harder than imaginable. 

He was aching already, his cock painfully caged in his boxers, he shouldn’t, he shouldn’t take a peek. He should just attempt to go to sleep again, he should give the two of you privacy. 

But, fuck, was it tempting. 

This is all he ever wanted, he knew how perverted that sounded, but this was his chance. 

The walls in the apartment were thin, so fucking thin that he would hear your mewls every night, and Eddie’s dirty talk. He would never admit to how many times he got off to the sound of the two of you going at it. It was embarrassing, outright disgusting, and he felt ashamed. 

A crimson red and disgust colored his cheeks the second he came all over his hand, sticky, always so much that it spurted all over his chest. But, god, did it feel so fucking good. 

He didn’t know what it was that drew him in this much, Eddie’s dominance, your pathetic whines, him degrading you while you begged for more, it was all of it. And he was begging to get a glimpse of it, a little taste.

“Yeah, baby, you like that don’t you?” More sounds coming from the two of you, Eddie’s cocky tone enough to have Steve feel himself against his boxers. 

He was hard, so achingly hard that he hissed, and his other hand immediately clamped down on his mouth to shut himself up, the skin slapping and the cursing didn’t falter a bit. 

He could totally get away with this. 

And he was about to burst in his pants, a little peek, wouldn’t hurt, would it? Jesus Christ, he knew it was wrong, but this was the perfect opportunity, he finally could see your fucked out face, Eddie’s cocky grins, he needed this. He deserved this.

Steve shifted quietly in his bed, concealing himself but still getting a good look at the two of you, his cock was needy, weeping, and he needed to give it attention soon. Just the look in your eyes, the way Eddie was all the way into you made him bite his lip to conceal the groans that slipped past his parted lips. 

“Ssshh, baby, I know, I know, but you gotta quiet down a little, yea?” Eddie cooed against your face, biting and nibbling a trail from your chin to your neck, a grin sitting on his lips. 

Fuck, Steve wished he could do that, have you sprawled on him on the couch, bare pussy on sight while he fucked himself into you, legs wrapped around him, while he left marks on your neck, truly owning you, like Eddie did.

Eddie squished your cheeks to quiet you down, his cock still hitting spots inside of your walls that you didn’t know existed, and you were quick to pout. “You don’t want our little roommate to wake up and see you like this, do you?”

Steve’s ears perked at that, bubblegum pink all over his cheeks, but it only encouraged him more and more, his cock engorged with blood and the need to fuck his hands was all he could think about. 

The two of you were talking about him, and he was more than intrigued. Slowly but surely, Steve pushed his boxers down his thighs, hissing quietly when his heavy erection bobbed out, plopping against his v-line, tip hot and angry, waiting to be attended. 

Eddie had you split in half, or at least that’s what it looked like to Steve, “Whinin’ like a bitch in heat, soakin’ my cock and still beggin’ for more.” Eddie grunted, Steve watched in awe, how hungrily you looked at Eddie, those doe-eyes looking so innocent yet you were anything but. Eddie was sliding in and out of your walls, harsh, quick, and making sure you could feel him fully. 

Steve bit his lip to hide the groan that dared the slip past his mouth, cock hot and pulsating in his hands, he spat on it with a shuddered breath, wishing that instead of his hands he could push his veiny cock into every single one of your holes. Drawing out those pleas and whines from you like Eddie did. 

Eddie’s cocky, domineering words also got him going, he didn’t know what was taking over him; he needed you under him, whining and begging for him, but he also wanted Eddie to dominate him as well, a fucked up dynamic that he would die to be a part of. You, submitting to both of them, while Eddie dominated both of you. And Steve in the middle, it would be perfect. 

Eddie’s hands were bruisingly all over you, cock pounding into you with such force that Steve watched open-mouthed, wishing he could get a taste of you, wishing he could feel the way your tight cunt took him in.

“Oh, shit, you’d like that, baby wouldn’t you? Such a little slut, you’d want Harrington to see you all pathetic like this?” Eddie grinned, mocking you further and further, causing you to mewl at him pathetically.

Steve smeared his spit all over his cock, using it as a lubricant while he desperately wrapped his palm around it, ungodly sounds escaping his lips, not able to help himself when the two of you started talking about him.

His sickly desires coming to life in the best fucking way possible.

“You’d want Steve to see you bein’ my personal cocksleeve?” Heat rushed to your cheeks quickly, face feeling hot both from desire and how filthy Eddie was being, and he knew you loved it. 

You shook your head shyly, gaze still on him with a pout. “Nuh—uh, don’t lie, baby, I know you like an audience.” Steve tugged at his cock feverishly, knuckles turning white with how much desire ran in his veins, his mouth hung open both from the pleasure and the words being uttered, would the two of you be into this as well?

God, he wanted nothing more than to have you underneath him as Eddie did, he wanted to get a taste of you, he wanted to feel your pussy squeezing him because he knew that’s what Eddie always blabbed about through those thin walls, how tight you were and how warm you felt.

Steve shouldn’t have listened, he shouldn’t have jerked off to his roommate having sex with his girlfriend, but fucking Christ the two of you were so hot.

How was he supposed to help himself?

“Would you want him to take a turn with you?” Steve’s ears perked, and his desperate tugs at his cock almost halted, he sat up a bit straighter, hand still rubbing his aching cock but eyes searching for you, searching for that approval.

You nodded shyly, a grin appearing on Eddie’s face  “Mhmm, I know you would, such a fuckin’ slut aren’t ya?” Steve’s guttural groans were concealed by the harsh skin-on-skin provided by the two of you, Eddie’s loud rambling, and his even louder grunts.

Steve perfectly red in the face, fucked his fist harder, trying so hard not to finish himself off this early, but the desire pooling in his tummy was nearing.

That shy little nod, Eddie’s wicked grin, fuck, he was going to keep this memory in his brain forever. 

“Love you, pretty girl,” Eddie hummed, sloppy kisses peppered all over your perky tits, mouth latching onto one of your nipples, sucking, nibbling while his fingers drew small circles around your breasts, igniting more pleasure.

Overstimulating you in every way possible, and Steve watched with an open mouth.

Both of you could not resist the grunts that left their lips, your frail body becoming mushy at all of the sensations, looking pretty as ever. 

“You look s’perfect like this, honey, did you know that? Mhmm, this cunt made just for me, huh?” Eddie cooed, and Steve’s strokes against his dick were more sensual now, it’s like he wanted to feel you too.

You sank into the couch further every time he thrust himself into you, praises making your eyes roll all the way back to your head. 

“Takin’ it so well, sweetheart, look at all the sweet noises your pretty pussy makes when I’m fuckin’ you raw, huh? God I love it when you get all dumb like this on my cock, princess.” he praised. 

“Being the prettiest, good girl f’me, thinkin’ about nothing but my cock, perfect little fucktoy,” He groaned, voice getting coarse with need. Those chocolate hues you loved about Eddie were long gone now, replaced by something more sinister, fueled purely by hunger, and it made your nails dig deeper into his back, making him hiss.

“Ed—Eds…” Steve wanted to worship you, all of his thoughts being stripped away because of how fucked out you looked. Candy gloss smeared all over your needy lips, hair disheveled, eyes barely open, and spread out for Eddie like the good girl you were. 

“Yeah, honey? What d’ya need?” Tone saccharine sweet, his hand landed on your cheeks, smushing them together, making it harder for you to register anything, he was making you feel so hot, so much… And you couldn’t bear to talk.

“N—need to, uh—” Words died down your throat when he shoved himself deeper, hitting that sweet, sweet spot that made you go all dumb on him, just like he loved. 

“You wanna cum, doll? Huh? Can’t handle it anymore? Thought you were my tough girl?” He mocked with an ‘Aww’ sound, jutting out his bottom lip, making you nod vigorously. 

“I—I’m your good girl, sir,” you muttered. Steve was trying so hard not to tug at his poor cock harder, not to go completely feral because he so wanted to last. He wanted to hear the pretty whines that left your lips, the guttural groans that consumed Eddie. 

His hands landed on your clit now, he could feel your pussy nuzzling him, could feel that familiar feeling pooling in your tummy, and he wanted to get you into that space, where you could barely talk, where you whined and trashed for him to let you cum. “B—but ‘s t—too much, need to—” You whined, struggling.

Eddie breathed out a throaty chuckle, drawing circles around your sensitive spots to earn those breathy huffs from you. “Can barely speak, such a good fuckin’ cockslut for me, aren’t ya?” He mocked, all mean and filthy.  

“And, all fuckin’ mine,” He grunted, he wasn’t forgiving, and neither was his cock, slipping out of you entirely to drive you crazy. Dark chuckles left his lips when he enjoyed your little whines, that deeper dig your nails had on his back with anger.

Steve’s lips wrapped around his knuckles, biting on them to conceal the lewd noises daring to slip out. 

Eddie’s huge length, slightly bent to the left, facing upwards was slicked in both of your juices. Steve wanted nothing more than to have his tongue lapping up at him, taste both of you.

“Speak up, slut, what do you want, you wanna cum, huh?” Vicious, and bold, his hand had a hold on your throat now, harsh enough to draw both pain and pleasure out of you, making you cry out at the emptiness.

“S—so mean,” you murmured, you loved every fucking second of it. But his teasing was driving you crazy, and you so badly needed that sweet release, and to feel his warm load filling your hole.

He pouted at your words, releasing your throat as his palm stroked your cheeks, he knew you enjoyed his mean side, but he still couldn’t resist your pretty face and that addictingly gentle tone. 

You always knew how to break him, and to get him to do what you wanted. Which was to get completely fucked.

With a sticky sweet and delicate kiss on your lips, he was quick to thrust back into you. “‘M s—sorry, sweetheart, ‘m sorry but you’re just so pretty like this, can’t help it,” he breathed against your neck, his movements getting sloppier when your moans became more pathetic and needy, he wasn’t going to last if you came.

And it was okay because Steve was dying for a release, both knuckles white, one from tugging, the other from biting into it to stifle his loudness.

“Don’t worry, honey, you can cum for me,” He cooed, lips pressed into the shell of your ear, kissing a trail down to your cheekbones.

“S—shit, fuckin’ shit, sweetheart cum for me and I’ll give you what you need,” He fucked himself deeper, slower into you.

Steve’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, blurry vision only able to focus on the two of you.

“You want my cum don’t you, baby? Want me to fill you up?” You were gone, back arched with pleasure, trying to get more from him if that was even possible.

“P—please, Eds, need you to mark me, make me yours, all over again,” you moaned, craving him, feeling that tight coil in your tummy getting tighter and tighter. 

“A—ahh, shit—shit, sweet girl, when you talk like that you know you’re gonna be the death of me,” He grunted, his own voice failing him when he was all lost in you. 

“Need your cum, Eds, p—please, cum with me baby,” you begged, body frail beneath him, soft, mushy, and all ready.

“Shit, f—fuck, so fuckin’ tight when you cum, sweetheart, I don’t think I can—” His rambling got louder and louder, not caring if Steve could hear—hell Eddie wanted him to see this. See the way you were getting split open by Eddie, begging, while Steve fucked himself to the two of you, all so desperate, waiting for Eddie’s instructions. 

A newfound desire found Eddie at the thought of both you and Steve being so submissive to him, letting him take all of the control. “Fuckin’ fuck! Jesus—mmpf,” he grunted.

Steve was desperate now—as much as he was ashamed of it, he had jerked off to the two of you so many times before, he knew from the noises, that the two of you were close.

And he was more than ready to finally see your pretty face and Eddie’s mouth hung open when both of you came, his fantasies coming true. 

He fucked his fists harder, balls drawing up at the needy moans that slipped past your lips. “G—gonna fuck all of my load—fuck—into you, princess.” One final thrust rutted deep inside of you, filling you to the brim. 

“Fuuuck, fuck fuck!” He yelled out, and that’s all it took, both of your eyes squeezed shut, melting into the couch, loud moans and groans filling the room while Steve watched with lulled eyes.

Your orgasm was quick to wash over your body, pussy convulsing around his cock deliciously, ropes of his warm cum spilling inside of you. All the while Steve squeezed his cock, spurting his cum all over his hand, white beads of his warm load covering his knuckles. 

Heavy breathing filled the living room, and Steve’s room. His mind hazed, and eyes remained shut. 

“Shitshitshit, take it, baby, take it all,” Eddie breathed out, his load sitting pretty inside of you, filling you nicely.

“Good girl,” he whispered, planting a nice kiss on your glossy lips, peppering your face with small ones, a wide grin sitting on his lips.

“Fuck,” Steve grunted out unintentionally, hand planting on his mouth with a loud smack, but it was too late. 

Eddie’s head snapped backward, a grin sitting on his lips before his dangerous gaze met Steve’s dilated pupils, blown out by pleasure, and the anxiety in his system slicking his forehead. 

“Did you enjoy that, Steve?” Eddie mocked from where he was standing, not moving an inch, eyeing the shocked look on his face, fully enjoying it. 

Steve, at a loss for words, couldn’t even blabber a simple response. How the fuck was he going to explain this? 

Eddie barked a mocking chuckle, pouting. “Your poor cock must be aching from those calloused hands, abusin’ it every night. You think we didn’t hear your pathetic groans every night? The walls are thin, Stevie,” he cooed, his tone so teasing that Steve gulped. 

What the fuck was going to happen now? 

Would Eddie beat him up for being a fucking pervert? 

Would the two of you move out as soon as possible? 

Endless possibilities ran through Steve’s mind, yet he couldn’t muster a single reply, cursing himself for even fucking doing this. 

Yet, much to Steve’s surprise, Eddie’s reply was his wildest dreams and fantasies bundled up into a full sentence. “Oh, don’t be shy now, Stevie, come out, let us help you.” You hummed quietly agreeing with Eddie, too fucked out to say anything else, yet still up for more. 

Without another word Steve got up, unashamedly walking into the living room with his junk out, hand still covered in his cum, Eddie’s gaze and grin were much more devilish up close, making Steve’s cock stir against the cold air hitting his tip. 

You were quick to sit up on your knees, dragging Steve closer to you, hand gently holding up his semen-covered knuckle, giggling at the sight before your gaze met his. 

The blood rushed to his cock in an instant, your doe-eyes still held that innocence, yet there was something filthy about it that had Steve wanting to melt into a puddle. You stuck out your tongue at him, mouth quick to wrap around his knuckles, lapping up his juices. 

Your gaze stuck on him, and Steve’s thighs shuddered with need, eyes drinking you in while you wiped him clean and released his hand with a pop sound of your velvety lips. 

A lewd noise escaped from Steve’s mouth, making him grow weak in his knees, still unable to find the words to speak. You were perfect. Just perfect. 

“Stevie tastes so good, Eds,” you hummed sweetly, gaze never leaving Steve’s, and Eddie watched the two of you with newfound hunger. 

“Do you want us to help you, Stevie?” You asked with a pout, plushy lips slickening with your candy gloss, and now with both Steve and Eddie’s juices. Steve nodded vigorously, head about to fall off his neck, gulping and almost groaning at you. 

Steve wasn’t a morning person, until now. 

[munsonsmixtapes]

Save a Horse

Tyler Owens x fem!reader

summary: you and your best friend, Tyler decided to test the waters and take your friendship to the next level, unbeknownst to the both of you that you’re in love with each other.

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v)

The bar was hazy when Tyler walked into it, a line dance already in formation. He didn’t even want to be there, but he was trying to make himself actually get out there again. He hadn’t been on a date in what felt like ages, so he was a little rusty, but a few beers should have fixed that. Despite his looks, he wasn’t very good with the ladies. Any time he would try to flirt, it came off offensive or borderline sexist because he got a little too cocky. But this was his night. He was desperate to get laid, his hand no longer doing the job.

He made a beeline for the bar and ordered a beer, surveying the area for whoever he was going to take home for the night. There were a lot of pretty women and he was trying not to be picky. This was just to get him back out there. The sex didn’t have to be good and it certainly didn’t have to mean anything.

His eyes locked on a pretty blonde that was on the other side of the bar, barely visible through all of the dancing bodies. She was already staring him down, sipping on a drink with a straw and Tyler was wondering what else she was willing to suck on. He downed half of his beer and made a beeline for her, trying to go around the dancing crowd so as to not get caught in it.

But then he heard something, someone who stopped him in his tracks. He turned his head to the left and sure enough, there you were, arguing with someone like you always seemed to be doing.

You were beautiful. So much so that he couldn’t help but stare. You were dressed in a black tank top that was tucked into a pair of very short denim shorts and a pair of black cowboy boots were on your feet. Before he could stop himself, his feet were gaining a mind of their own as they carried him over to you.

He finally stood at your side, but you were paying him no attention, your argument with the stranger still going strong. You looked seconds away from pulling out your earrings and hitting the man. And as much as Tyler knew he should have stopped you, he kind of wanted to see you do it. You had a bad temper you never took out on anyone who didn’t deserve it.

“I don’t understand why you won’t just give me a chance,” the man said. That seemed to unleash something in you because you stepped closer to him, nothing but fire in your eyes. Tyler wasn’t a fan of how he still found you so hot when you got angry. The way your eyes would be filled with fire and your nose would twitch and your mouth would twist as you were trying to decide what you were going to say next.

There were so many times where he wanted to kiss you when he had done something to upset you. Clearly nothing had changed since he was staring directly at your mouth, watching your lips move. They were painted with a red gloss, making them even more inviting. But nothing was coming out of them. The place was loud but not loud enough to where he couldn’t hear what you were saying when you were only like a foot away from him.

“Maybe because you slapped my ass?” You replied, surely seconds away from beating this guy up. Tyler’s eyes widened, hurrying to stand beside you before he could stop himself.

“You did what?” He asked in shock.

“You bent over to grab a pool ball that fell off the table and you’re saying I wasn’t supposed to smack it?” Tyler cracked his knuckles, wanting to hit the guy himself.

“Yes,” you and Tyler replied in unison. You turned to him and he looked good. Almost too good. The scruff on his face did him well and the cowboy hat on top of his head looked far better than it should have. His white t-shirt clung to his body and you hated how much his jeans hugged his waist.

You wanted him, and bad. So much so that the man had been the starring lead in your fantasies that you had come up with every night before you went to bed. You had been in love with him for years, wondering why you hadn’t asked him out when you had the chance. He was so sweet and caring and you wished that you had been the one he had flirted with when he had a few drinks in him.

“And who are you?” Tyler asked, draping an arm over your shoulder. You loved when he got like this, all authoritative, taking control of the situation. If it had been up to you, you would have taken him right then and there.

“Who are you?” The man replied as it he had the right to be angry with either of you. Tyler felt the need to protect you, even though he knew you didn’t need saving. He just wanted to drape his arm over your shoulder to let everyone know you were his.

Well, that was what he wanted you to be. You had never gotten to that point and it was all his fault. He had been too afraid to make your friendship something more. He was stuck in the friendzone where he had put himself for years, kicking himself for not asking you out the first night he met you.

“I’m her boyfriend so I suggest you move along before I have Enrique throw you out.” You could take care of yourself just fine, but something about Tyler always jumping in to protect you always made you feel a little wet in your panties.

The man just muttered something under his breath before turning away, not wanting to get kicked out again. With him gone, you turned on your heel, heading back to the bar to order a much needed shot with Tyler hot on your heels.

Tyler couldn’t help but let his eyes drop to your ass, and watching it move as you walked in your tight shorts was torture to the man. He always found himself wanting to get a handful for himself, sliding his hands into your back pockets as he kissed you until you were breathless, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You’d let out a loud moan and he’d grab you by the backs of your legs, helping you wrap them around him-

You stopped at the bar and ordered a drink before turning to face Tyler as shots of tequila were set on the bar, as if the bartender could read your mind. You reached for both and handed one of them to your best friend.

“Drink up, Owens,” you nudged him and you both downed the shots, feeling it burn all the way down. You both slammed the empty glasses down on the bar and you eyed him, wondering what he would have said if you had invited him to the bathroom right that second.

There was something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite make out. A look that you didn’t recognize in any way, shape or form. They were soft and sweet, just like you remembered. In that moment, you could feel your anger towards him falling away. You could never be mad at him for too long, especially not when you looked into those beautiful green eyes and this time, you could tell that he wasn’t trying to use that to his advantage.

“Thank you for that,” you said, nodding your head towards where you both had just been. “And to thank you, I’m adding your drinks to my tab.”

“That’s real sweet, darlin’, but you don’t need to thank me.” That nickname always managed to make you absolutely melt, loving the way it fell from his lips so naturally. “Just your friendship is enough,” he winked.

“Oh, shut up,” you went to shove his shoulder, but he was quick to grab your hand, pressing a gentle kiss to it.

“Alright,” he took another sip of his beer. “Dance with me,” he said, tilting his head up a little.

“Dance with you?” You had no idea what he was talking about, wondering if he was expecting you to read his mind. If you had been able to do that, you definitely wouldn’t have been working at the bar part-time.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “Dance with me as your thank you.” He couldn’t be serious.

“Yeah, not happening,” you shook your head. One thing you didn’t do under any circumstances was dance. A ballet recital gone wrong when you were ten made you swear off the activity entirely, never wanting to be embarrassed like that again.

“No way.”

“Fine,” he took another sip of his beer. “Then I’ll just dance by myself.” He slowly headed to the dancefloor, giving you every opportunity to back out if you didn’t want to do it. His hand moved back, his palm facing you as he continued to head to the dance floor, wiggling his digits to get your attention.

You rolled your eyes even though his back was to you and reluctantly put your hand in his. Tyler pulled you out onto the makeshift dance floor and the two of you somehow ended up directly in the center. He was able to quickly pick up the routine while you were left to flounder, moving awkwardly because of your hands that were still attached.

You watched him move so effortlessly, feeling odd being right next to him since you were always there on the sidelines when he was a part of it. He’d smile at you as you sat at the bar, waving you over, but you always shook your head. But now that you were finally dancing with him, he was hoping that it could become a regular thing.

He liked the way your shoulders would brush when you moved the wrong way and the way you’d squeeze his hand to communicate that you were nervous. You turned the way that you thought you were supposed to go but ended up bumping into Tyler, nothing but a chuckle falling from his lips as he looked down at you.

“Follow me, okay?” He asked and you nodded. “Turn around.” You did as he asked and turned around, your back facing him. His hands slowly moved up to your waist, letting them make a home there. He had touched you there multiple times when he had hugged you, but this was entirely different. So close to the way you had wanted him to touch you, but not nearly enough.

“Do you trust me?” He asked, his lips right by the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. Of course you trusted him. Maybe more than you should have.

“Of course,” you responded with a nod.

“Follow my lead, darlin’.” It was as if he was trying to drive you crazy. Like he knew the exact effect he had on you. But he had too, right? This was all an elaborate way to get you to admit that you had feelings for him. Well, two could play that game.

You kept in rhythm with him, slowly but surely backing up to him, your ass right up against his crotch. You gingerly began to grind on the spot, resisting the urge to turn and see his reaction. You could tell he was enjoying it just by the way his fingers were digging into your waist.

You moved the two of you out of the way of the dancers and continued to grind on Tyler, your movements still slow, but harder now. You could hear his breathing pick up, feeling his nose brush your jaw, his breath on your neck sending another chill up your spin.

He never thought the two of you would be dancing like this, the movements so sensual and sexy. You knew exactly what you were doing and it was fucking unfair. He could feel his cock hardening and pretty soon, he wouldn’t be able to hide it anymore.

“This isn’t the right dance,” he chuckled.

“I know,” you nodded. “But don’t you like this more, Owens? I can feel you getting hard.” Just when you were going to really take it home, you were suddenly turned around, a gasp leaving your mouth at the sudden movement. Your hands landed on his chest and Tyler’s hands rested on your lower back, pulling you as close to him as possible.

You leaned closer to him, your lips brushing his and the man was convinced he was a goner. He could feel your gloss that had transferred to his own lips and wanted it other places, anywhere you could get your lips. He loved the idea of being covered in your kisses, the prints leaving your mark behind.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, sugar,” he said, his voice low, raspy. And it was doing wonders for you. He was so hot and you were having a hard time not making a move anymore.

“Oh, I fully intend on finishing,” you responded, finally pressing your lips to his. His eyes widened at your actions, but he was quick to melt into you, his lips catching yours slowly.

His arms wrapped around your waist even tighter, pulling you as close to him as possible. Yours wrapped around his neck, your hands running through his hair at the back of his head.

Your head felt like it was swimming, his lips more soft than you could have ever imagined. He tasted like the beer he had been drinking, mixed with something else you couldn’t quite make out. It was sweet and sour.

You pulled away before it could get too heated and Tyler admired the lip gloss that had smeared across your face, very tempted to go back in for more. His thumb swiped across your cheek to help get rid of it, but that didn’t seem to help, only smearing it further.

The weight of what you had done was catching up to you. You had just kissed your best friend. You had just kissed your best friend and you liked it. You had only gotten a taste but now you wanted more. All of him. You wanted to finally make your fantasies a reality.

And you couldn’t. You couldn’t do that without completely complicating your friendship and you really liked what the two of you had. It was really nice at first, to have a friend without all of the “feelings” bullshit, but now you had actually fallen for him. And hard.

“Fuck,” the word fell from Tyler’s lips, his voice somehow getting even more raspy, making you even more wet. God, you really were fucked, and not in the way you wanted to be.

“Do you wanna take this out to my truck?” You asked, your hands lazily moving up and down his back.

“I’d love to take this out to your truck,” he replied, pressing his lips to yours before paying your bills and leading you out of the bar, his arm wrapping protectively around your waist.

You rifled through your purse, looking for your keys and found them before unlocking your truck. Tyler opened the driver’s seat door for you before helping you into it. He then closed the door and rounded the hood before getting into his own seat.

You peeled out of the parking lot and sped down the road, thankful for how late it was so there was little traffic. Your heart pounded as you pulled into what looked like an abandoned parking lot.

Why you were scared of what you were about to do, you didn’t know. Tyler was sweet and you knew that he would do whatever he could to make you comfortable. He was nothing but a sweetheart and would make you feel good, stopping at nothing to do so.

You put the car in park and turned it off before turning toward Tyler. You stared at each other, the only thing that could be heard was the radio playing a soft country song. You turned the volume up to attempt to drown out your thoughts. What the hell were you doing? You didn’t know, but you were fully prepared to dive right in.

Tyler reached out, placing a hand on your cheek before pulling your face closer to his, his lips ghosting over yours, almost as if he was afraid to go for it. That confidence from the bar completely evaporated into the air.

You took the lead, pressing your lips to his, your movements more rushed and rough as you nipped at his bottom lip. He let out a little whine and that was enough to make you absolutely soaked.

Rain pattered against the car as you slotted your lips together once more before pulling away. You climbed over the center console and placed yourself into his lap, straddling him.

Tyler looked up at you, his pupils blown and his lips smeared with your lipgloss. It was an adorable sight and you hated how good he looked in that goddamn hat. You took the hat off of his head and put it on your own, moving your head this way and that, modeling it for him.

“How do I look?” You asked, turning your head to the side and he just laughed.

“You look good,” he nodded.

“As good as you?”

“Even better,” he replied, pulling you in for another kiss, removing the hat from your head and setting it on the driver’s seat.

He slipped his tongue into your mouth, letting it swirl around yours and a moan fell from your lips at the sensation. His hands slipped into your back pockets, giving your ass a squeeze and you gasped into his mouth which only made him do it again.

You began to grind against him as your tongues tangled together and you could hear a groan in the back of his throat. The whole thing was overstimulating for him, there was no way he was going to ask you to stop any time soon.

Your hands rested on his chest as you kissed him, this one slow and gentle, as if you two had all the time in the world, and right there, in that abandoned parking lot, you did. Your tongues tangled as you continued to grind into him, your underwear getting soaked as you felt his dick forming a tent in his pants.

Tyler’s hands moved to your shorts as you reached down on the side of the seat in search of the lever that leaned it back. You found it with ease and leaned the chair back as far as it would go as you let Tyler take what he wanted from you, you pliant to his every move.

You both struggled to pull down your shorts, laughing because of how small the space was. Maybe there was a reason why neither of you ever did this kind of thing. He got them down to your ankles and you moved so he could take off his jeans, his belt buckle making a clattering noise as it hit the tops of his boots.

You both removed your shirts and Tyler eyed the black lacy number you were wearing. His hand moved up to run over the fabric of the tops of the cups, his fingers brushing your skin every so slightly.

“Like what you see?” You asked, leaning down a little so he could get a better look at your cleavage. And you had him right where you wanted him, catching him staring right at it. You scooted up so that they were right in front of his face and he brought his lips to the skin, pressing a soft to it.

He then moved up, his lips now connected with your neck, his tongue swiping back and forth as he began to suck. You moved your head to give him more access and that caused him to nip at your skin, another gasp falling from your lips.

“So good,” you moaned, your eyes shutting. He continued to work, having every intention of creating a hickey right there underneath your ear. He licked and sucked, pulling the most delicious moans from your mouth.

To test the water, he grazed the skin with his teeth and you moaned loudly, reaching your orgasm. God, you were so fucking hot, the way you were able to make the most pretty sounds and look pretty while doing it. The sweat already forming on your skin, making you look absolutely irresistible.

You helped him get his underwear down and realized there was no going back as he cock sprang free from it. It was hard as a rock and probably the biggest you had ever seen. Who knew that your best friend was packing so much? Clearly you didn’t.

You pulled a condom from your purse and rolled it onto his cock before placing yourself on top of it, both of you moving awkwardly as you got used to each other in that way. Your hands rested on his shoulder as his head went to your waist, helping you move, riding him slowly.

You picked up the pace, and Tyler couldn’t help but watch you, feeling himself getting close just by looking at you. The cause of his wet dreams right on top of him, almost convincing him that he had been in one.

He let out a moan of his own and you looked down at him, your eyes darkening as you did so. You had barely even done anything as he already looked blissed out. This had to be a record. Knowing that you could do that to someone gave you so much power and you got more confident, moving as fast and as hard as you could.

Tyler let out another moan, his own scream climbing up his throat, his fingers digging into your waist, surely forming bruises. His head was back against the headrest, his eyes shut tight as another scream ripped through him, his breathing labored.

His hands moved up your back, his nails gliding down it, leaving scratches and your back arched at the movement, reaching your own orgasm. But you stayed there, seeing if you could get one more from him before taking a break before going for round two.

“Holy shit,” he moaned. “You really know what you’re doing,” he said through breaths.

His hands scratched up your back as you watched him, seeing that he was close again. A final loud moan fell from his lips and you slowed down your pace but kept moving, another orgasm rolling through you.

You sat there, staring at each other, your chests rising and falling as you did so. You never thought you would have ever gotten to that place with Tyler, but there you were, sitting on top of his dick, having just had the best sex of your life. And it hadn't even lasted that long.

“I have an idea. And hear me out, okay?” He asked, his hands moving up and down your arms lazily.

“Okay.”

“What if-what I want you to be the only one I sleep with?” Your eyes widened at his words, but you had to admit that you loved the idea. There was no way you could fuck anyone else after that. He had ruined you for any other man.

“Oh, so like friends with benefits?” So you didn’t understand. That wasn’t what he wanted at all. He wanted you to be his. Solely exclusive with him. His girlfriend. The one he went to bed with every night and woke up to every morning.

“I love you, y/n,” he said, sitting up, taking you into his arms, looking you in the eyes so you knew he was serious. This wasn’t exactly how he had planned on telling you, but he supposed that this was a good a time as any.

“I love you too, Tyler,” you replied, pressing your lips to his, this kiss sweeter than the others, both of you smiling into it. “Be mine?”

“Oh, darlin’,” he let out a chuckle, pressing another kiss to your lips. “I always was.”

[fairene]

one of your girls / ln4, part two

lando norrisxfem!reader

no use of y/n, as always.

part one

a/n ⋯ I LIED IT'S COMING OUT NOW!!! i sat down for 'bout four hours after work and a family dinner to knock this the fuck OUTTTT. it's shorter than i expected, but this was the best way i could wrap up this supposed 'oneshot'. i hope you all enjoy it. and remember, it is up to YOU for what you are wearing, clothes are intentionally vaguely described for your own viewing pleasure. and tbh, i did not proof read this...don't sue me!!! I JUST WAnted it out asap for everyone@!!! pls don't let it flop!!!

warnings ⋯ SMUT 18+++!!! minors DNI!!!, language, drunk hookup, choking (slight), p in v sex (wrap before you tap!), fingering!(f)receiving, overstimulation, feral lando. sickeningly in love lando, possession, jealousy.

wc ⋯ 13.7k (unedited!)

he hadn’t heard from you in weeks. weeks. it was driving him fucking insane. he didn’t know that the girl would come back, he didn’t know she would be a bitch, and he certainly didn’t know you would react that way. to his ultimate surprise, it was a comfort knowing that you did care. however sick and twisted it was, it told him without using your words, that you wanted something. 

things had been left unsaid between the pair of you for a long time. too long. he was never in the business of guessing your feelings, assuming that you felt one way or another about him. and neither were you. both of you were too fucking stubborn for your own good. neither of you could see what was right in front of you–

each other. 

and that was the worst part for lando. it had him pushing himself harder. faster. to be better to perhaps catch your attention. to win you back through his ability to race. but you didn’t care about that. you didn’t care about how fast he drove his car, didn’t care about the number of podiums he got. you cared about him. but you never let the words fall upon his ears, and that was your first mistake. 

it was the weekend in spain. warm, but not too humid, you traveled with alexandra and the rest of the ferrari hospitality team. you had gotten close to carlos’ girlfriend, rebecca, as well. they were both great company and more times than not, lando had slipped from your mind completely. 

but not for him. 

he was a mess. a wreck without you. guilt consumed him night and day, and he would feel eternally wrought with what could have been. he’s called you, texted you, even had oscar reach out to you, but there was nothing but radio silence and the bolded words ‘read’ beneath his sent messages. it hurt more knowing that you saw him suffering and did nothing about it. 

but he deserved it. he deserved this treatment. he wasn’t going to fight you. he would roll over, belly up like a good boy for you. pay attention to me, his actions would scream. look in my direction. but you didn’t even view his stories on social media anymore. didn’t even like his posts. 

the british driver would be found pacing back and forth, staring hunchback at his phone. oscar would watch him from across the room, legs dangling from the papaya barstool. he hated to see lando this way, but he knew what he did. lando was honest with oscar, hoping to maybe seek advice in his own girlfriend. but lily simply shrugged her shoulders and her expression said enough. 

you did this to yourself. 

but little did you know is that he threw that girl out the moment you left. okay, not literally, but in ever metaphoric way possible. he never contacted her again. he hadn’t contacted any girl, in fact, these past few weeks. he would be isolated with his PR team at every occasion, refusing to even entertain the thought of hitting up a new girl. 

his loyalty to you was suddenly unwavering, but it was too late. 

“mate,” oscar said from where he sat. lando didn’t look up, just hummed, staring at your last text to him. 

‘you’re too sweet,’ 

too sweet. what would you say now? you had replied to a set of merchandise he saved for you, special edition for miami’s grand prix, and that had been it. from you. he had to scroll down through the text chain to reach the bottom. his endless apologies, desperate words, and more apologies. he felt nauseous. sick that he ever treated you that way.

his favorite girl. his girl. 

“she’s here.” 

what? 

lando’s head snapped up, looking frantically around. but there was no sign of you. 

“with alexandra. ferrari paddock.” oscar gestured his phone towards lando. he snatched it from him, letting his eyes fly across the photo. it was a picture of you, rebecca, and alexandra. posted on alexandra’s instagram story. 

you looked…

happy. 

he…

he didn’t know why he was upset by that. he wanted you to feel the same level of anger, sadness, distress, even. but here you were– looking absolutely beautiful with your bright smile. so fucking beautiful. he remembers he was there when you picked out that top. and god, he was right, it’s meant for you. 

lando threw oscar’s phone back at him, and knew this would be a long fucking weekend. 

barcelona’s air had been clean. much cleaner than miami, new york. the decor of the paddock, too, had you thinking and trailing your fingers over the textures. you had done that more– feeling the things around you. you used to do that with lando. but now he was gone, and you had to suffice to other obscurities to lay your fingers upon. 

gone. the word echoed in the chasm of your mind. gone. you didn’t realize the depth of lando’s absence would impact you this much, but that had been a mistake on your part. clearly. an oversight of your intimate relationship. that, eventually, it would end. it would end in flames, crash and burn, and ultimately never recover. as much as you thought, anyways. 

you heard your name being called from the other side of the couch. you glanced up. 

rebecca stared at you expectedly. 

“sorry,” you breathed. “what did you say?” 

rebecca huffed, but repeated herself regardless. “i said that i have a friend with me i want you to meet.” you raised your brows quizzically. “i think you’ll like him.” 

him? him? oh, fuck, here we go. 

as much as you wanted  to breeze past what happened in lando’s monaco apartment, you couldn’t. your feelings, as heavy as they were, weighed you down into the abyss of lando norris’ wellbeing. 

you didn’t sleep with anyone since him. you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. it didn’t feel right, and your own attempt at an orgasm was ultimately futile. 

but you said nothing when rebecca turned, pulling a man from conversation with carlos. he looked confused, but let his eyes settle on you. he relaxed. 

he was a handsome chap. dark hair, dark eyes. tanned skin. fit. he had a grecian nose, one that was slim and curved. not like lando’s, you thought, but brought yourself down to earth and stood. you greeted him with two kisses on the cheek, and his name was raphael. 

“so you are…” his spanish accent was thick and attractive. you couldn’t deny that. “friends with rebecca?”

“that’s right.” you nodded, bringing a bottle of water to your lips to cool down. “you, as well?” 

he shrugged, giving you a ‘so-so’ hand gesture. “carlos, really,” you let out a soft ‘ahh’ and soon realized, too, that this would be a long fucking weekend. 

the day of free practices came and went. so did your time with raphael. he wasn’t a bad conversationalist whatsoever, you were simply not interested. but you made a promise to rebecca this weekend that you would try. try and branch out instead of looking insatiably bored on live television. she was right. you needed to get over this and move on, because lando must’ve, right? he must’ve slept with that girl, given the fact that he didn’t go after you. 

did you expect him to? 

you weren’t sure. you weren’t fucking sure of anything. you weren’t a mindreader for fucks sake. but you saw his text messages. all of them. you made yourself sick with despair every night, rereading them to yourself like the fucking bible. what did you expect him to do for you? crucify himself? maybe. just maybe. 

as you were walking down the pit lane with alexandra at your side, you felt the wafting air of an oncoming storm of people. you glanced around, but alexandra was the one to point it out. 

“uh oh.” 

the papaya suits could be seen from anywhere. it’s not like they were subtle. 

you bristled and stood up straight. fuck, okay. this was happening. he’s walking this way. was he coming toward you? no, don’t be so foolish. but you hoped that he would. 

lando was approaching you, but his eyes were set forward. but when you weren’t bothering to look, he had been staring at you the entire way here. he could spot you from miles away with your countenance, your undying beauty. 

but he didn’t stop to look at you. 

you didn’t either. 

but your hands–

god your hands

they brushed past one another when he swept past your shoulder. his pinky desperately latching to yours before you let him go. you gasped lowly and he heard it, his ears twitching with the sound. but he didn’t stop. he couldn’t. 

if he stopped to turn, he would kiss you out in the open. 

you dared him to.

but you both kept on your way, and the interaction had you fuming. why can’t he care to show up? texts, calls, whatever, didn’t compare to the ability to show up. you knew he was in monaco. you knew exactly when he was there. it wasn’t a fucking secret. 

fuck him.

you didn’t care if you were being a brat. you knew what you put at stake, but you opened your heart to him. and you believed that maybe, just maybe, if that girl hadn’t interrupted, the two of you would be in a very different situation. maybe. but you didn’t let that thought linger. you couldn’t. 

“what was that?” alexandra whispered to you as you both kept walking. 

“nothing.” 

and that’s what you promised yourself it to be. nothing. when in reality, it had been everything. lando had seen you, spotted you from what felt like a mile away with a man lingering at your side. fuck. reality set in for him that you were looking. you were looking elsewhere from him for companionship. it made him fucking sick to his stomach, and he knew that had to change. he was a man on a mission now, a conqueror ready to pillage. 

it was the evening when you found yourself locked away in your hotel room. it was well past ten o’clock, and you were exhausted form today. alexandra had invited you out, but you just couldn’t bring yourself. rebecca prodded away at you, too, insisting that you and raphael hit it off today. he said that he wanted to see you again.

you had thought about it. you really did. 

but you couldn’t. 

you’d been sucked into a tv melodrama in your hotel room when you felt your phone vibrate. someone was calling you. 

you checked the time and raised a brow, lifting your phone to see the all-too-familiar contact card lighting up your face in the ambient lighting of the room. 

lando

you hesitated. 

suddenly your heart was racing, beating rapidly against the cage of your chest, and you felt like a prisoner to your anxiety. you felt it drop to your stomach, feeling queasy, but hit ‘answer call’ anyways. you lifted your phone to your ear, and let out a soft breath. 

“what?” 

your words were bitter, but quiet in the solitude of your room.

“didn’t think you’d answer,” came his raspy voice from the other end. he was breathless, as if he had been running. or fucking some girl. fuck you, you wanted to bite out, but held your tongue. 

“neither did i.” 

that earned you a cheeky laugh from him. he hesitated, too, before breathing. “are you at your hotel?”

you were confused by the question. “yes.” 

“can i see you?” 

his words hit you hard. you fell back against the pillows of your bed, hand coming to rest over your forehead. you sighed with a grumble. “i don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

you could practically feel him wince through the phone. 

“please.”

fuck him and his soft words. his desperate tone, the pity that you felt for him grew. the fact of the matter flew from your head, disappearing with a singular plead from his cracked vocals. he sounded honest. that he truly wanted to see you, and a small part of you wished to reconcile whatever was happening between the two of you. you were not a woman of small touches– you wanted it all, or nothing. 

“okay.”

lando cleared his throat, choking on his breath, exhibiting his initial shock. “i– okay, okay, what room are you in?” 

“610.”

he hung up before you could let out a breath. your phone fell onto your nightwear– a simple baggy shirt and spandex. they were what kept you most comfortable at night. 

your hands raked over your face, pulling your eyelids with it. what were you doing? engaging with him, talking with him over the phone. the long text chains of read messages you had banished him to sat idly on your screen, staring you down with an ambivalence that you quivered before. was this a mistake? should you just pretend you’re–

there was a knock at your door seconds into your thoughts. 

you jumped from your bed, hands raking through your hair. how did he get here so fucking quick? you scrambled around your room, checking yourself in any reflection you could find. fuck, why were you so nervous? how could he possibly make you so riddled with anxiety in a matter of seconds? your heart was in overdrive once again, and you wondered just how much you could take. 

he said your name through the door. weak, pining. you dropped the brush you grabbed in the bathroom instantly, feet soaring over the hardwood floor to open it. when you did, you were face to face with the british driver. 

he wasn’t drunk. that’s a first. the thought crossed your mind only briefly, thinking that you were just a booty call in the late hours of the night. it wouldn’t be the first time. 

lando was disheveled, messy, and the white shirt he wore was ruffled. upon his head was a mclaren hat, concealing his identity from the outside. most importantly, though, that you noticed was how his face was glazed in a sheath of sweat. you cocked a brow at him. 

“did you run here?”

lando shrugged. it felt, in that moment, that things were normal between you two. that all of this…shit washed over for just a second. you felt at home. comfortable. but you cleared your throat and let him walk in, shutting the door behind you. 

you didn’t want to speak to him here. not where he could see your laundry everywhere, pairs of underwear sprawled around so he’d get distracted. not that you expected to fuck him here, though the thought didn’t upset you. fuck, you were in deep. 

you brushed past him, leading him to the small terrace just outside your bedroom. you slid the door open and leaned your back against the railing. he slid the door shut behind the two of you, and he took a seat in one of the wooden picnic chairs. he gawked at you, openly, letting his eyes run over your bare legs beneath the oversized shirt. 

“don’t do that.” you said, breaking the silence between you two. you seemed to rip him out of his dreamscape with a clearing of his throat. 

“do what?” he feigned innocence. though he knew what he was doing. he missed you, lest he verbalize that. 

“look at me,” you breathed, “like that.” 

his brow lifted, still playing dumb. dumb, as if he didn’t want to take you over this railing, ask you to be his. 

“like what?”

you scoffed. 

“like you’re in love with me.” 

ouch. your words bit harder than he thought they would, blood gushing from an open wound in his heart. he let your words settle before he leaned back in the chair, legs spreading as he fiddled with the skin of his thumbs. 

“i wanted to see you.” 

“i know,” you answered. “you saw me. now what?” 

lando shook his head. “don’t do that.” please don’t do that he wanted to say. 

“do what?” it was your turn to play dumb. your turn to pretend that you weren’t doing the same thing. pushing him away was the easiest way to deal with all of your problems. 

“act so cold.” he turned his head away from you, glancing over towards the lights of the city. “giving me frostbite.” 

“lando, what–”

“i’m sorry.” 

huh? you froze, eyes widening as you straightened upright. did you hear him correctly? it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve heard an apology. but this was a first to hear it in person, not in begging text messages half way across the world. 

“what–?”

“for everything. i’m sorry.” his head fell to his hands as he leaned over, gripping at the curls atop his head. you felt the same urge creeping up your spine, your hands feeling empty. you shifted on your feet, stepping a foot closer. 

“why now?”

he perked up, wondering what you meant. 

“why, now, are you sorry?” 

he was speechless. unable to form the words that could answer such a  vague question. but you had an idea, so you thought you’d share. 

“because i was with someone?” raphael. you know that he saw the two of you talking. chatting. maybe an occasional giggle so you could keep him quiet for the rest of the free practices. 

lando began to shake his head. “no, no–” 

“really?”

you stepped into his space, wedging yourself between his thighs. he stared up at you, lost in the reflection of your eyes beneath the starlit sky. his hands found your hips and you let him keep them there, at least for the moment. 

“really.” he promised you. head leaning forward to rest on your stomach. you felt the perch of his nose dig into your skin. your head leaned back, taking a large breath, feeling tears begin to well. 

“what do you want, then?” you said with a shaky breath. 

you felt his hands tense against your hips. 

“i don’t know.” his words were muffled, but you could make them out. it shattered you to hear the creak in his voice, but it hurt even more knowing that he didn’t know. you wanted something with him. a relationship. but he didn’t feel the same.

your fingers cupped his face, bringing him to look at you. “that’s it, then, huh?” your voice was dangerously soft. 

he was confused. again. 

“that’s all i’ll be?” he still didn’t catch on, too busy staring at your flushed face, reddened eyes. he wanted to fix it– take back his words. he’d do anything to reverse time. would do anything to revoke the words that spilled from your pretty lips. 

“one of your girls.”

you pushed him away, walking back to the railing with your back turned. he said your name over and over. you ignored him.

“i think,” you said, sucking in a tight breath to calm the storm of emotions that were threatening to raise hell. “that you should go.” 

“no, no–” lando stood, coming to wrap his arms around you, but you turned, holding up your hand to stop your advances. 

“we knew this would happen one day, didn’t we?” you reaffirmed, steadying your breaths the best that you could. but it was difficult. nothing about this was easy. but it had to be done. you were done waiting. done pining for someone that did not feel the same. did not burn the same. 

lando breathed your name again. you shook your head. “no. no. we can’t–” you choked on your tears. it felt hard to breathe. “i can’t keep waiting for you.” 

lando’s own eyes filled with tears. it felt like a breakup, when you two were clearly never together. you made that clear enough, and he obeyed, just wishing to feel your skin beneath his fingers, fall asleep to your heart beat. so why did he say he didn’t know? fuck, he’s such an asshole. he couldn’t take back his words now, could he? 

he tried to explain. words stumbled from his lips, nervous and riling with anxiety, but you would hear none of it. you simply brushed past him and into your room, opening the door from your hotel room for him. you said nothing else, tears sliding down your cheeks, lip caught between your teeth. 

“please,” he begged one last time. he had succumbed to his tears, too, cheeks flushed and lip wet. his hands trembled as he made one last attempt to cup your face. you let him. 

your foreheads met in both desperation and exhaustion. here, it felt like time stopped. the two of you in sync with your racing hearts, trembling hands, voracious blood churning through your veins. you looked up at him through your wet lashes and he met your gaze. it only had you sobbing harder. 

he wiped the tears from your cheeks. 

“please,” he said your name on his trembling tongue. the sound had your knees trembling, but you resisted. you had to. you couldn’t keep doing this anymore. there was a life out there, waiting for you to take hold of. “don’t make me go.” 

you let out a shaky breath, shaking your head. 

“you have to.” 

lando hiccuped. his fingers were still shaking, and he finally accepted your rejection. though he supposed he signified it first. that was his first mistake. he couldn’t take back his words without sounding like a dick, so he was trapped. trapped utterly in this pit of mayhem. 

he exited your hotel room with his tail between his legs. defeated. 

you shut the door behind him and slumped against it, your back sliding down until you hit the floor. your head fell into your hands as you attempted to stifle your sobs. 

little did you know, that he had done the same thing, fallen limp against your hotel room door. your sobs were in unison as you began to unravel, whilst he coiled into knots. forever entwined amidst your inability to be vulnerable with one another. toilsome, but ultimately true. 

you didn’t know how long you stayed there. he didn’t know how long he stayed there. the two of you stayed in parallel behind a closed door, mimicking each other’s beating heart, for you knew that they would never be one. 

when you woke, you were still slumped against the door. you stood, stretching out your painfully aching muscles, arched your back, twisted your neck. your eyes were swollen raw with your epidemic of tears the night prior, and you rubbed the crust away. the memories flooded through you. lando was here. he was here, and you had to haul his ass out.

you thought he was going to kiss you. 

but he didn’t. your lips would remain untouched by his own. 

your fingers ghosted over your mouth, shivering at the memory of him so close to you. you could feel his breath fanning over your face– the heaving, desperate puffs of air– and he felt yours, too, with the same amount of anxiety. you were a wreck before him, and he was too. 

in no time you found your phone, grimacing at your battery, and the plethora of texts from rebecca and alexandra. it was still early in the morning so you had time to pull yourself together, but you had a big day with them today. qualifying was happening, and rebecca had set you up.

she set you up with raphael for the day. you knew she meant the best. and maybe it was. this was your opportunity to uphold your promise– to move on. you had to, or else you would be strung dry for the remainder of your life, with dreary hopes and aimless romantics. you would not drown in the ocean of lando norris, despite how cumbersome he gripped on your ankles. 

you fixed yourself for the day. showering quickly, styling your hair to your liking. you threw on a formal chic outfit, perhaps trying a bit hard today to catch raphael’s eye– or someone else’s, by chance. but you left the unattainable at the back of your mind today, heart far too raw to be ripped open again.

you would stick with something safe. someone safe. raphael was your answer in the short term. you were sick of playing the long game, bested to your knees in the face of whatever conspired between you and the british driver. you were convinced it was for the best. it had to be. these emotions couldn’t be for nothing. 

it couldn’t be for nothing. 

when you arrived to the track that morning, alexandra was quick to meet your side. she had an impenetrable amount of questions for you, yearning for your answers, but you only gave her a brief overview. 

“we’re done,” you said as you walked through the pit lane. “he doesn’t want me like that.” 

she was clearly taken back. her hand flew over her heart, obviously distressed for you. you admired her care for you. you would do the same for her. “really?” 

you nodded, gulping down the lump in your throat that was tempting to choke you. 

“it’s okay.” you reaffirmed her. she made a move to speak over you, console you to the highest degree, but you stopped her. “i’m fine. swear. let’s have a good day, shall we?” you plastered on a fake smile towards her, but you knew she saw through you. but she would accept this for now when you were approached by carlos, rebecca, and raphael. 

you smiled brighter when raphael came to kiss both your cheeks. you gripped his bicep. engaging in conversation with him felt easier today, and you weren’t begging for an out. you’d catch rebecca’s eye here and there, and she glowed with happiness. if you weren’t doing this for yourself, you could at least say that you were doing it for her. 

raphael was not a bad man whatsoever. he smelled good, had good hygiene, and had a glowing smile. but he didn’t smell the same. didn’t have the same musk. didn’t have the harsh pricks of a stubble that burned into the skin of your neck. 

fuck. you missed the feeling of that stubble. 

you clung to raphael’s side for the rest of the day, a burning itch between your thighs undoing the morals of your mind. if you wanted to get over lando, you’d have to truly get over him. 

it was never a ‘string’s attached’ relationship, was it? you were free to fuck whoever you want, when you want. so why would it be so bad if you wished to see raphael bend down for you? 

or you wanted someone else, but raphael was the closest you’d get. 

the rest of the day went by smoothly. for you, at least, but not for lando.

he had come into the mclaren paddock looking absolutely awry. his hair messy, eyes dreary with sleep and emotion, whereas you…you looked beautiful. untouched by your emotions from the night before. so much so that you were cuddled against that same fucking dude, which had lando’s blood bursting to life. 

you were across in the pitlane observing the car, arms folded over your chest. that fucking guy’s hand rested on the upper part of your back, rolling soft circles with the pads of his fingers. he clenched the rim of his helmet in his hands. his teeth grinded inside his mouth, sawing down the enamel. for you, he’d have no teeth. for you were the only world he wished to bite, and even then you starved him of it. 

“y’alright, mate?” oscar’s voice interrupted his thoughts. lando broke his stare from the pair of you, ripping his eyes away. 

but you had turned, then, and let your eyes linger on his back.

“fine.” 

that evening was no different than any other. for lando, at least, he succumbed to his hotel room for the night. he had no interest in going out. if he saw you with that spanish prick, he’d only lose himself even more. the guilt of losing you had been overturning, divulging into what a psychologist would declare as madness. 

but you were the opposite. you were out on the town, clubbing with rebecca and raphael. carlos was there, too, but was saving his energy for the race tomorrow. he held no drink in his hand, but you did. you were downing shot after shot. 

you were swaying your hips, grinding against raphael with a steady pace. he was into it. his dick was aggressively hard against the back side of your dress, but you weren’t scared by it. it enticed you further, in fact, and had you drawing new sensations of pleasure through you.

finally, you thought, a break from him. from lando. but the voices echoed inside the back of your mind. it bounced off the walls; he couldn’t compare. 

lando would have his hands drawing up the sides of your body. fingertips scathing the fabric of your dress, teasing touches that would have you writhing in his hold, desperate for him to fuck you in the back. 

lando would have his face nuzzled into your neck whispering bittersweet praises into your ear. he’d squeeze your hips with anticipation as the both of you would move in sync. always in sync. the two of you were one on the dance floor, one when you fucked one another senseless in your less than private moments. when he was particularly desperate for your touch, he’d go as far as taking you in the bathrooms at any club. he had no shame; not when it came to you. 

but raphael was tame. and maybe you appreciated tame. maybe this was a new start for you. fresh and free of any unknowns. 

“you’re beautiful, hermosa.” he would whisper to you, body trying its best to keep up with you. he did, for the most part, but you moved to your own beat. lando would know. he knew every inch of you. were you really prepared to be strangers? 

you spun around in raphael’s arms, wrapping yours around his neck. you offered him a cheeky smile. this wasn’t you. “and you’re handsome!” it was alcohol talking. you would never be seen so exuberant. not like this. 

it had raphael laughing, though, and it was enough for him to take you back to his place. 

the entire way back to his place you were giggling, latching onto his tanned skin. his hair was soft, sheen, and luscious. your hands never got lost in the strands of his hair– it was too combed, not curly enough. nothing was curly enough. 

and then he had you against the wall of his flat. your hands pinned against your head, and he met your lips with his. fuck, you couldn’t remember the last time you’ve been kissed. but the worst part about all of it was–

you hated it. 

you tugged his head down to your neck, letting him work the sensitive skin with his tongue. your lips felt hot. blistering with a heat you haven’t felt in a long time. it felt…it felt…

raphael’s tongue found the meeting part of your underwear and skin, “can i?” he asked with a timid voice. you let out a soft moan and nodded. he tugged the fabric down, your dress still hanging off your body. you didn’t even remember if he left kisses along your neck, your breasts, you guessed his lips weren’t that memorable. 

and then his tongue was against your slit. you weren’t wet enough. clearly. you could feel the chapped parts of your cunt, disappointed in your body that you couldn’t ‘get it up’ for him. whereas he was practically jacking off in his pants, you were left like a desert. it wouldn’t be like this with lando. 

he explored your cunt with his tongue, narrowly dodging your clit ever so slightly. he thought your noises of pleasure were noises of distress, so he avoided touching your clit as much as possible. so he tongued you through and through, until you began to become irritated. 

you couldn’t even feel tight in your stomach. the feeling couldn’t be outmatched. maybe your sexdrive had died. maybe you could never cum ever again. this was to be your fate– dry and lonely. fuck. you let your head fall back against the wall, which he took as a good sign, and kept going. instead, you threaded your hands through his hair, rolling your eyes. 

you let out a few soft, faked moans. you felt guilty– of course you did– but apparently it was an olympic sport to make you cum. he certainly wouldn’t make the playoffs. 

after another minute of this, you were fed up. 

you tightened your cunt on command, which took a lot of fucking work, thank you, and began to heighten the sound of your moans. the award for best fake orgasm goes to: you!!! you surged forward to grip onto his shoulders, even pretending to be shaking. 

you deserved an oscar. 

“didn’t think i was that good.” 

an egot, maybe. 

you let out a soft sigh, a faked chuckle, and let him lead you to his bedroom. he fell atop of you on your back, holding himself up with the strength of his forearms. he dipped his hand down, scathing over your irritated cunt. you gasped at his hand finding your slit once again, drenched in only his spit, and without warning slipped a finger inside of you. 

your mouth hung open, lurching at the sudden contact. you felt sinched beneath his weight, taught with tension. he even curled his finger inside of you. he grazed your bundle of nerves that had your squirming. squirming for more pressure. he kept hitting your spot until he pulled away. you looked confused at first, wondering where exactly he was going. 

and…then he was pulling his cock out. fuck. you really weren’t going to win here, tonight, were you? not in the slightest, it seemed. he looked down at you with a knowing smirk. the same one where he thought you came beneath his tongue. 

he thought you came. 

fuck!

“are you ready?” he asked when his cock pushed against the skin of your lower belly. he was a good size, you admit, but you had a inkling that you weren’t going to find a sweet release with his hands. you nodded, forgetting your manners, but raphael said nothing. 

he pushed into you with a discerning pace. you scrunched your nose out of his eyesight. he was too busy fucking himself into your pussy. he couldn’t even open his eyes to look at you. and, for the record, he didn’t use a condom. dick. at least you had a form of a contraceptive. you’d make sure not to let him finish inside you. that’s for fucking sure. 

he slid in and out of you with the lubrication of his spit and his own precum. you didn’t move. you laid there, bored, faking a moan and gasp here and there. 

the whole time you thought about someone else. and you didn’t feel guilty about it. you were able to find yourself comforted by the dreaming thought of lando’s voice in your ear. the phantom touch of his stubble. the amount of moles that you could count on his face. 

with a grunt, you felt raphael push off of you, cumming onto his own sheets. he laid there, panting, and you…”did the same.” 

he turned to face you, smile on his face. “did you finish?”

you nodded with an itching smile. he seemed triumphant. though you couldn’t be drier than a haystack. 

your exit from his flat quickly. it’s not like he even took your dress off. he insisted that you stayed, but you retorted that you had an early morning with alexandra. whether or not that's true, you didn’t seem to care. he didn’t fight your statement and seamlessly let you go, clearly too exhausted from his evening to even see you out the door.

you hailed a cab from your hotel shamefully. you felt icky. your lip sneered when you caught a cab and tipped the driver once you arrived back. the elevator ride never seemed so tantalizingly long. 

when you swiped into your room, you threw your belongings on your bed and turned on a hot shower. while you waited for the water to heat, you opened your phone. 

no messages from lando. 

did you expect any?

maybe. 

you decided to call him. you didn’t fucking care. it was the alcohol talking. 

ring…ring…ring…ring…ring…

no answer. 

you left a voicemail.

“heeyyy…!!” you surged into the phone as you began to untangle your dress from your body. “i–uh, i dunno i just…wanted to call you… because i…” you swore under your breath as you couldn’t get a strap off. “sorry i…” you stuttered, laughing to yourself. “i think i miss you, lan.” 

and then you hung up, singing yourself into the shower. the hot water panned over your body, fingers trailing over the mounds of your breasts. the soft skin of your abdomen. 

but with your whimsy, came a price.

lando was there. he just didn’t answer your call. he had been awake, wondering what you were doing, since you were absent on almost all forms of social media. so when he got your call, he couldn’t bring himself to accept it. 

then the voicemail came.

he must’ve played it over a dozen times. hearing your soft voice, amicable and kind. you had been drinking, clearly, and he could hear the sound of the shower running in the background. he held his phone against his head, other hand running through his hair. he was a wreck over you, and you were as well. drunk dialing was never a thing between the two of you. 

especially an ‘i miss you.’ 

and how ‘lan’ slipped past your lip with such ease. the name was meant for you to use. only you. 

he found himself stroking his cock to your words, the temptress in your voice. he knew she was there, baiting him, and he was no better than a fish to bite. he fisted his cock with your name on his lips, and a reminder that yours was on his.

with a pounding heartbeat and ringing in his ears, all he could think about was you. and more or less, you the same.

your fingers trailed down your navel in the shower, coming to nib at the lips of your clit. how swollen it was, angered and annoyed, that such a man could ignore it. by association, you. 

a hand rolled over one of your breasts, twisting your nipple in hand. you gasped at the sensation you provided, flicking your clit between your fingers. you truly needed no more to make yourself cum, except the thought of lando’s voice in your ears. 

‘come on, baby,’ he would say to you, fingers gliding along your drenched slit with ease. you clenched around nothing, whimpering to yourself in the hum of the hot shower. ‘little more for me, yeah?’ he would always talk you through it. never once would you be alone when you came. he was always there, lingering, a shadow against the walls. 

you slipped a single finger inside of yourself, curling it expertly as lando taught you to. ‘just like that, sweet thing.’ he’d mutter against your shoulder as he’d fuck you on a chair facing a mirror. you could never make yourself cum before his “lessons.” 

your back arched against the marble of the shower walls. your thumb and forefinger worked just like his would against your clit, massaging the bundle of nerves until a coil inside of you snapped, and you came all over yourself with his name on your lips.

and he could feel it. amongst the cosmic plane. he had been grudgingly fisting his cock, grunting your name over his lips. it was sinful, the way that his cock was spewing cum in only a matter of minutes at the thought of your voice. ‘lan, lan,’ you would say to him, ‘need it. need you inside,’ you’d whimper against him, begging for his cum to seep out of you. 

he’d never deny you a pleasure. so he shouldn’t deny himself. he came in a matter of seconds over the palm of his hand, your name flustering his tongue. and he’d lay there, soaking in his milky cum, eyes blown wide at just how much of an effect you had on him; mind, body, and soul. 

you stood there in the shower, flustered from heat, the slick running down your thighs. your hearts beat in unison at that moment, miles apart, on the same wavelength. 

the shower wasn’t the same after that. you felt dirty, but so good. the namesake of lando’s voice in your ear was enough to have you cumming on your own fingers, but the touch of another man made you ill. what a shock that was to you. or maybe it wasn’t a surprise at all. 

clean to the best of your ability, you slept easy that night. the best sleep you’ve had this weekend, in fact, with lando frolicking through your dreams. and you in his, whispering soft ‘i love you’s’ which had him writhing with pleasure. you infested every part of him, and he did the same to you. you’d never be free of lando norris, and the thought began to settle. it wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but you couldn’t forget his words. 

‘i don’t know,’ he spoke into your stomach. his nose pinched you. the words sliced clean. your stomach coiled not with pleasure, but anxiety. why didn’t he want you that way? why did he hesitate? 

you weren’t taking his rejection well. that was clear. 

but he wasn’t taking this any better. he was going through his own emotional turmoil of trying to make this up to you. it would be the last thing that he did. 

when you woke that morning with a groggy headache and a sore ache between your thighs, you couldn’t help but groan. what the fuck were you doing last night? you perhaps had the most disappointing sex of your entire life, and now, as you looked in the mirror you were nothing more than mortified. 

littered on your chest, above your breasts, were a few specks of bruises. hickey’s. fuck. fuck. that was one thing that was always far too intimate. kisses and hickeys. what did this mean, then, that you belonged to raphael? your fingers trailed up the bruises on your chest, the flesh tender beneath your soft touch. you winced at the memory of his cocky face, thinking that he had you finishing more than once. if at all. you leaned over the sink, washing your face off with cold water. 

your hands rested at the base of your neck. your reflection stared back at you, pitiful, the bruises beneath your eyes reflected a tiredness that the word ‘exhaustion’ could not begin to fathom. you were disappointed in yourself. that much was clear. 

a sigh escaped you when you finally mustered the courage to leave the bathroom. for the race today, you decided on a long dress. one that covered your chest, but hung on your shoulders. it was a beautiful piece. you’d been saving it for this weekend, and you were more than thankful that the universe seemed to be looking out for you. 

you tidied up your appearance the best you could and slid on a pair of heels, grimacing at the sore ache from the night before. raphael didn’t have a valet, so you had to walk across four blocks with his hands wandering down your sides, desperate to fuck you in an alleyway. ew. you shivered at the memory, but continued on from your hotel room.

though, you took one last glance before leaving, and let your eyes rest on the balcony. it felt like a dream to see lando sitting there, his face resting against the tender flesh of your stomach. his stubble itched through the cotton of your shirt, but it rather tickled. and then he said he didn’t know what he wanted with you, and your whole life slipped right through your fingers. 

he slipped through your fingers. 

you shut the door. 

lando’s morning, on the other hand, started off stellar in comparison to yours. he had stayed up a while longer, wondering if you would call him back, but you never did. there was a faint pang of disappointment, but much more guilt that he let you slip away so easily. he should’ve refused to leave your hotel room that night. refused by any force you attempted on him. 

but he’s just that much of a fucking idiot, wasn’t he? when he left for the paddock early that morning, he glanced at his phone one last time. one missed call, and it was from you last night. and then suddenly, his heart was warm, and there was a smile on his face.

all this told him was that there was a chance. you called him. you called him whether or not you were shitfaced. blackout drunk. in your vulnerable moments you thought of him. reached out for him. fuck, he was in love with you.

in love

he paused when he shut the door behind him, frozen in place. what? is that what this was? love? 

anxiety churned in his stomach. this feeling had been there for a while. a long time. and only now he was just realizing it. shit. 

he fiddled with his phone in his hands. thumb hovering over your contact card, he let it fall. 

it rang twice before he heard the line connect. 

“yeah?” you said, demure and quiet. he knew you were exhausted. he’s heard this tone before. the tone you had when you were viciously hungover. it had him chuckling. “what?” 

“good morning to you, too.” the words rolled easy from him. he suddenly felt calmer with you on the other end, but it didn’t stop the butterflies from fluttering in the pit of his stomach. 

“good morning.” you said, like you were shocked that he was calling you to say good morning. 

“fun night?” he asked, stepping into the elevator and hitting the ‘lobby’ button. a few members of his team were already waiting for him. 

 but you had froze up in the car ride to the paddock. what? how could he know? did he know that you were with raphael? you cleared your throat. “what– what do you mean?” 

“you called me.” 

shit. 

if you weren’t fucked already, you were royally now. your hand dragged over your forehead as your head swarmed with anxious thoughts, completely forgetting about calling him and then…touching yourself in the shower to the thought of him. yikes! what a little freak you were. but lando would enjoy it. 

“i–” you stuttered, voice caught in your throat. “i’m sorry…i was just…” 

your voice trailed and you could hear his childish laugh from the other end. “no, no. it was cute.” you heard the elevator ding from his end, but it hard to focus on when there was a deep blush flustering your cheeks. 

“i didn’t mean to bother you,” you quickly said, finding the need to apologize over and over again for disrupting his night. it was embarrassing enough as is that you had the worst sex of your life, but you called the one man that didn’t want you for consolidation. what a conundrum that was, wasn’t it? 

“you didn’t.” his words were firm this time, no traces of playfulness. you perked up at this, finding yourself laughing. 

“must’ve said something dumb, didn’t i?” 

there was a pause. 

“yeah. yeah. something dumb.” 

there was another beat of silence. you shifted in the uber, the pass around your neck.

“i’ll see you there?” 

you heard him suck in a tight breath, then release it. 

“yeah. yeah, ‘course you will.” 

you smiled. he could feel it. 

“okay. bye, then.” 

he said your name softly on the other end with a salutation, and the line went flat. you slammed your back against the leather seats of the car, hands rolling over your face. you rubbed your eyes, wondering if you were still dreaming. 

it wasn’t fair that he could make you this way. that he had you in tears just a few nights before, and now your fingers shook with excitement. fuck him. fuck him for making you feel this way, and yet, there was no trace of annoyance on your face. 

just a bright smile. 

your name was called when you swiped into the paddock. it had you whipping your head up to see who it could be, but you already knew that it was alexandra. she wasn’t trailed by anyone else, thank god, and she flung her arms around you for a hug. 

you sang a soft greeting towards her, and she looked up at you expectantly. you raised a brow. 

“so…!?” 

you narrowed your eyes. 

“your night with…!” her voice dropped to a whisper. “raphael.” 

you shushed her, looking around, before you held one of her hands in yours. “you want the truth?” her facial expression dropped, but she nodded anyways. 

“awful.” 

she groaned, head rolling back in disappointment. “i told rebecca it wasn’t a good idea.” 

“the sex was…horrible. just…i mean, what the fuck?” alexandra burst out into a laugh as the both of you joined side by side towards the ferrari hospitality. you dreaded going, given the unanswered texts for him, you didn’t want to be confronted with…anything. 

“most importantly…” alexandra stopped the two of you before you entered. “are you over him?” 

him. the inevitable. 

you swallowed. 

and nodded your head.

alexandra was only slightly pleased and gave you a reassuring smile. boy, this would be a long day. 

before the race started you were wandering around the pitlane with your miniature crew of ferrari girlfriends and their friends. raphael had found you, eagerly, with a prideful smile on his face. out of kindness, you returned the gesture, and let him linger around you for the day.

ferrari’s pit was next to mclaren’s. you couldn’t help but stare. 

lando was there. in his papaya race suit. he was speaking to his engineers, and never glanced your way. look at me, you wanted to shout. please, your mind begged. but you stayed firm at raphael’s side.

he dared to stretch out his hand to let it loiter on your waist, but you shimmied out of the contact with an awkward smile. he noticed, but didn’t say anything. 

lando did too. 

but not what you wanted him to see. he saw you with raphael’s arm around your waist. you were smiling, laughing, in their presence. whereas he couldn’t even bear a night out without the cumbersome thoughts of you constricting his mind. he thought of nothing but you. and here you were, haphazardly dangling this spanish prick in front of his face. fucker. 

you turned to look at lando again, free of raphael’s touch. he was staring.

your heart beat faster, eyes widened. your palms were sweating– why were they sweating? he looked pissed, frustrated, but you didn’t know why. your brows upturned with a soft expression that he yearned for, and his envy flushed away. 

it was that easy. your gentle features. the concern ridden in your face. 

you even gave him a small wave, twiddling your fingers. he was bashful in response, and returned it with a small twist of his own fingers. 

but his eyes carried down. towards your chest. you blinked, realizing that part of your dress had slipped further. there was an obvious bruise making an appearance, and you felt guilty. guilty as if you had cheated on him, but you were never in a relationship to begin with.

you saw his jaw tightened and his hands flex before he turned, leaving you speechless. 

and then you were dragged away, just like that, into the viewing panel for the race. they were about to start their formation lap, yet you could barely focus with your racing heart. 

it past with ease. raphael tried to get closer to you, but you found excuses to stay huddled at alexandra’s side. she noticed, and even wrapped her own arm around your waist. the two of you were a picturesque vision of divine femininity. you felt untouchable at her side, incomparable to any girlfriend you’ve ever had. 

lando was fighting hard. he was aggressive on the straits, pushing past the limits of his drs. your hand traced over your chin as you watched the tv intensely, frightened when you saw him make contact with one of the mercedes drivers. 

“what is he doing…” you muttered under your breath. your nailbeds were being hacked on by your teeth, chewing them down to the stump. parts of your thumbs streamed with blood. 

little to your knowledge, your reaction had been broadcasted. alexandra’s face unfurled with a cheeky look, realizing that she had been played by your deception from earlier. you were not over him. in fact, you were entirely worse than before. your concern was ebbed through the power of media, and that wouldn’t be forgotten. 

“are you okay?” came raphael’s voice. you didn’t even look at him.

“fine.” 

he took your cold tone in earnest, realizing that there was something more at stake here. 

you couldn’t be more grateful when lando passed the checkered flag. your hand found the column of your throat, finding comfort. you let your face be consumed by a smile, one similar to raphael’s when he thought he made you came. stupid man, you thought, glancing towards the spaniard. you had a new priority now.

you had to prove that you wanted lando. but how? everything felt like it was becoming too complicated. your fates were intertwined via an invisible string. 

and you didn’t even go to his podium.

he looked for you, sweat dripping down his forehead, but didn’t see you. it had him grow weary, agitated. he raced this hard so he could prove himself to you. prove that he was better than some lowlife. 

but he fears he lost you. 

the hickey’s on your neck spoke volumes. you fucked him. fucked that stranger. his fists curled around the trophy, break-necking the medal display. 

did you come? 

no. stop that. it’s none of his business to ask–

she didn’t. you couldn’t. 

the pieces began to fall in place in his head. the phone call. you called him…when you needed him most. 

it suddenly made holding this trophy all the more worthwhile, and he even donned a smile on his face when he raised it high above his head. this, he thought, was victory. 

the night came as swiftly as the day went. you were getting ready to go out, alexandra reminding you to schedule your uber. you did. the dress you wore this evening was short. one of your favorite colors, and had a high neckline. for obvious reasons. you were entirely mortified that raphael felt the primal need to mark you like some bitch. it had your stomach twisting with anger, fingers pulsing with a punch. 

but your violent urges stayed dormant when you met up with alexandra, charles, rebecca, carlos, and…raphael. jeez, what a lot you’ve surrounded yourself with. raphael was at your side in an instant when you climbed out of the uber, refusing to give you a morsel of space. it had your lip curling, grimacing down the vomit that curdled in your throat. 

you barely spoke a word to him tonight. there was nothing more to say to him. if you were to say anything, it would be a rotten lie. 

alexandra tugged you along through the doors, charles at her flank, which you gladly let her do. anything to get away from raphael would be best for you, given how much you didn’t want to confront him. it was just for the weekend, right? no strings attached. 

no strings attached, echoed through your mind. flashes of lando’s hands on your hips, the phantom embrace that tensed around your flesh, seeped into your head. your heart plummeted against your will, looking around futilely for his bright smile amongst the sea of oncomers. 

it didn’t take you long.

but you wish that it did. 

he had his arm slung around some girl, hat backwards, first few buttons undone on his white dress shirt. hands clamming up, you tightened them together over your front, letting your eyes gawk at such a beautiful pairing. it was a different girl than the one you had rudely met in monaco. 

another one of his girls. 

your mind begged you to let it go. but your heart chained itself to lando, refusing to let go this…infatuation that had you sick to your stomach. what did she have that you didn’t? was she nonchalant? was she a cool girl? 

your staring lasted too long. lando saw you. he felt your eyes– your heated stare, beckoning his attention. he answered your call, glancing directly at you. but he did not wave. 

neither did you. 

the urge thwarted you to look anywhere else but him, tugged your attention elsewhere, but you stayed firm on his freckled face, sharp cheekbones, his daunting stare. you felt the beat of his heart from across the room, the bass boosted rap, his irritability when raphael came to rest a hand on your hip. but you did not turn away from this fight. your arsenal was loaded, and so was his. 

lando glanced at raphael, first to break eye contact, and swug the rest of his cocktail in hand. he let the glass slide across the counter of the bar before tugging the girl at his side to his front, the pair of them dancing with one another. 

fine, if he wants to play, then you’ll play. 

you were handed a cocktail by raphael. you thanked him sincerely before you downed your own in one gulp. raphael gaped at you with a slack jaw. you wiped the loose drops from your jaw, and offered him your hand. 

“dance with me?” 

raphael didn’t need to be asked twice when he took your hand. you led him deeper into the club, the led lights brightening both your faces. in this light, you supposed that he was irrecoverably handsome. and the thought slipped through your mind that maybe, just maybe, you could’ve had a good life with him. that in some universe that you could get over this feud with a man who doesn’t want you, you’d have a well-earned chance at happiness. 

but the thought left just as quickly as it came. 

your hips were against his. ass against his crotch, grinding in a rough series of movements. he began growing accustomed to how you moved, and that much you could be thankful for. no longer would the two of you be awkward on the dance floor, fragile hands trembling against your body. he felt more confident, but you could tell there was something brewing behind those big brown eyes of his. but you honestly couldn’t care less, not when you were distracted. 

not when your eyes were entranced on a man who treated you like garbage. who cried in your arms, begged for your presence. then, left your hotel room with tears streaming down your face. 

his hands were tightly wound around the girls abdomen, cocky expression glazing his face. he spoke to a few of his buddies here, too, amply looking like a douche. one that who knew exactly what he was doing to girls. fuck. 

you were just one of his girls. 

this enraged you. but it shouldn’t. but it did. there was no excuse for your fray of emotions. they simply existed, and you were going to deal with them. not in a responsible way. no, you were far too gone for that. alcohol warmed your throat, your palms, your chest. 

you let your head lean back onto raphael’s shoulder, your mouth coming to his ear. “you can touch me.” you encouraged him. he seemed to lighten at this, becoming bold enough to let his hands trail up your body. he’d indulge in your shape, letting his fingers imprint against the globes of your breasts, the lining of your panties beneath your dress. 

a light giggle left you when you let your head rise from his blades, and were met with an aggressive, terrifying, stare from across the room. 

your lips puckered. 

lando’s head was resting on the girl’s shoulder, his hips swaying with hers, but his eyes were trained on you. you, you, and more you. he was glaring at the man behind you, his gaze so bitter that it soured even your own tongue. it was the miniscule amount of guilt that flustered your head, but you shoved it down. 

lando retaliated, beginning to kiss on the girls neck. she leaned against him, a gorgeous smile lighting up the room. 

you grumbled, turning your head to meet raphael’s eyes. your eyes pleaded with a language of seduction, one that any man could understand. 

raphael took the bait. 

his lips trailed down your ear, down the column of your neck. all whilst your back was pressed against his front, you felt the outline of his dick. your palm tightened at the memory of how he attempted to fuck you, but you had to remain composed. you couldn’t fail now. 

your lip caught between your teeth for dramatics. like you were holding back a moan. 

lando was watching. in fact, he never stopped. he was drunk on the addiction of watching you. watching you grind your hips on that fuckin’ guy, not even wince when his lips were glossing over the sensitive flesh of your neck. could he make you wet with just his mouth? 

the british driver could feel his end nearing. if this progressed any further, he’d drag your ass to the bathroom and fuck you like you’d deserve. he didn’t give a fuck. not anymore. not when your lip was bitten by your top row of teeth, an illusive point to how that guy was pleasuring you. he felt fucking sick. though he was starving to the same degree. 

his chest was aflame at your teasing touches on your own body. he could see the outline of your panties, the lack of a bra. your nipples were pinching against the fabric that confined them, and he had to stop himself from drooling. you were so fucking sexy. 

the girl at his front was growing bored of her lack of attention. he, honestly, didn’t even remember her name. but he’d suffice it with a swirl of his tongue around the skin of her jaw. it was a critical move, since he knew that you’d never let yourself be kissed. you wouldn’t risk such intimacy with a man you’ve only known for a few days–

except you would. 

this was war, wasn’t it? 

watching lando suck and slurp on that girl’s neck had you desperate to come up with an alternate idea. an approach that would crown you victorious without a second thought. it was cruel, you knew this, but you were out of options. you had something to prove. prove that you were over him. though, you knew that this would end in one of two ways;

him, fucking you.

or, him leaving. 

you much preferred the latter. 

with enough fury boiling in your bones, you lifted your head to meet raphael’s eyes. with your pointer finger, you let it roll over his chin, connecting with your thumb. you glanced at his lips, your tongue wetting your own, and pulled him to meet you. 

raphael said your name into your mouth, nervous to even let his tongue explore yours. you sucked in a tight breath, lip curling to reference a snarl at how much you despised the sensation. it was messy, wet, and you felt instantly disgusted with yourself for even letting him touch your lips. you felt like you jumped too far into a relationship with raphael, even though you were certain that you didn’t want one. 

“be my girlfriend,” raphael breathed into your mouth. you hummed a laugh, thinking that he was joking. but he moved to separate you too, staring at you with a brazen thoroughness that you never wished to see again. 

“i’m serious. i want–” 

“‘scuse me, mate,” you knew that voice. you knew that voice too well. your head spun around to see lando leering dangerously close to raphael’s face, the heat of his body emanating onto your own. he stood only a few inches from you.

you felt his hand ghost over the small of your back, and you suddenly felt desperate to feel it. with your lips raw from that kiss, your fingertip glazed over the flesh, your eyes lost in lando’s tense expression. his jaw was tightened, chest doing it’s best to keep his heated expression under control. however, that control was slipping with every passing moment that you were in raphael’s arms. 

raphael turned his attention to lando, suddenly pissed. “need something?” 

lando gave him a hoarse chuckle. “yeah. can i borrow your lady for a second?”

raphael made a move to shake his head. “no, we were just—”

“thanks, mate.” lando gripped your back with his fingertips, digging into the skin without mercy. you felt his anger rolling off of him in tense waves, the urge to consolidate him overwhelming. he led you through the crowds of people with an insurmountable force, jaw tightly clenched the entire way. you could practically hear his teeth grinding against one another. 

he said nothing until he opened– no, broke the door– to the bathroom. it was a single stall– no one was in there. he allowed you to enter first, stretching out his arm as a much needed signal. you waited a moment, arms crossing over your chest. 

his eyes didn’t relent. he would wait here all fucking day before you decided to go in. and you did. he locked the door behind the two of you in an instant. 

“what the fuck are you–” you began to scold, back turned to him as you approached the mirror and the sink. you were interrupted when he spun you around, hand place firmly on your hip. the contact had you gasping, glancing down at his hand. 

“so, what?” he said, looking down at you through hooded eyes, blown pupils. his heart was electrified, hidden behind his cage of ribs, and one hand flexed as it gripped the edges of the porcelain sink. he hummed, “hm? he your boyfriend now?”you gaped at him. “you’re serious?” you stifled a laugh, unbelieving of his attitude. “what’s it to you, lando? hm?”

his shoulders tensed. “you shouldn’t be with him.” 

you rolled your eyes. lando gripped your chin, demanding your attention. “why not, then? ‘m i supposed to be your whore forever?” 

his thumb rolled over your bottom lip. “you never were,” he tsked. you were bewildered. brow raising, however difficult to focus when his hand around your hip began to swirl circles on your skin. 

“what the fuck are you saying, then, lando? you need to–”

“you let him kiss you.” 

you froze. 

“never me. why?” his restraint was slipping. his forehead edged closer and closer to yours until you could feel his breath fanning across your face. 

“why?” he asked again, his nose brushing against your own. you shook your head ‘no,’ lip beginning to quiver beneath his body. his chest pressed against your own as he got closer. he needed to be closer. “he fuck you better? hm? that it?” 

you shuddered when you felt his fingers lower from your hip, trailing circles towards your navel, the slit of your dress that met your upper thigh. 

“go on,” he urged, his voice tense from gritting his teeth. “tell me. tell me, and i’ll stop.” 

you stayed quiet except for the whimper that left your throat when his fingers curled against your panties, a dampened spot ruining the fabric. there was a deep chuckle against your face, lando’s forehead still against your own. you tightened your lips together, not daring a word to spill. 

“tell me, and i’ll let you go party with your new boy.” 

“fuck you,” you bit out, seething with your desire, angered with his jealous antics. 

“yeah? yeah? you want ‘ta fuck me?” there was no way of hiding his cocky grin. it could be seen from miles away, even when his face was millimeters from yours. 

“you’re an asshole,” you heaved, your hips bucking when he began to slide your underwear to the side. your breaths were harsh against his cheeks. 

“must like ‘em mean, then,” he cooed, followed by a deep chuckle. “‘cause you’re drippin’ for me.” you felt your slick seep around his fingers as h grazed the puffy lips of your cunt. your head was thrown back against the concrete wall, smacking against the surface. lando was quick to adjust your head, his fingers tugging into your hair. 

“fuck,” you sighed, finding his pleasures undeniable. he was so on edge from seeing you kissing raphael, that he was lost in his madness. this pent up lust was bursting from its locked away jar, pouring its fury onto you. “touch me, lando. please–” 

with a swift motion he perched you onto the porcelain sink, your head lolling against the mirror, supported by his palm. he tugged you forward so your glossy cunt stained the front of his black pants. the wet spot was pertinent, your face flushing with embarrassment. you were supposed to hate this. why did you love it? 

“‘am touchin’ you, baby.” his middle finger teased you, blessing you with a split moment of euphoria of grazing your clit. you moaned, eyes fluttering shut. “look at me,” his hand tightened in your hair. your eyes flashed open, face to face with his crooked, loving smile. “look at me when i make you cum.”

you nodded, whimpering rapidly. he grinned harder at your desperate, pleading tone. though you spoke no words, he could tell just how badly you needed him. 

“inside,” your begging didn’t cease, especially when he was still refusing to slide a finger inside of you. “please, please—”

your words were cut off when his middle finger curled sweetly inside of you, eliciting the sweetest pleasure you have felt in weeks. the moan you delivered was guttural, deep, and most of all, primal. lando’s dick pulsated in his pants, his fingers twitching at your lewd voice. 

a hand reached out to grip onto his bicep, your head falling into the crook of his neck. you felt undeniably at ease in his hold, despite the hurt that he’s caused you. 

his finger began to slide in and out of you, scissoring you to high hell and back, and you were putty in his hands. moments like these is what he favored most with you, but he would take anything to be in your presence. he didn’t feel an ounce of guilt when he swooped you up from that asshole’s arms, leaving him shocked and disrespected. lando was keen enough to twist his head over his shoulder when he led you away, watching as raphael’s face contorted with disappointment. it had his jaw tensing, resisting the urge to smirk. 

“come on, baby,” lando’s voice cut through your high, your naval tightening with a hot pressure. “know you’re close. can feel it.” 

he added a second finger, using his thumb to roll over your sensitive bundle of nerves. the stimulation was overwhelming, your throat raw with the carnal moans he drew from your depths. he’d be the only one to hear any of these ever again. he promised himself that much. 

your orgasm was imminent, the coil in your belly snapping with a hopeless yearning you’ve been deprived of for what feels like an eternity. slick covered the palm of his hand, and your eyes had locked onto his. he watched as you trembled with desire, legs twitched around his waist. with one quick move he brought his two fingers to your lips.

you knew what he wanted. 

you’ve never tasted yourself before. but your lips parted, and he lathered your slick over your tongue. you sucked in earnest over his calloused digits, lips puckering, cheeks hollowing. you swallowed, letting your tongue linger over his fingertips.

“now you know,” he whispered, clutching you tight. “why i can’t stay away.” for a brief moment, you thought he was mentioning because of the taste of your cunt. but with the deep look in his eyes, you knew it meant more. you were made for him. both in spirit and sensuality. 

lando spun you around from your seat atop the sink, having you flipped, staring at your reflection in the mirror. you look disheveled, and downright fucked. your feet met the ground, the palm of his hand spreading over the expanse of your back, flattening you to a ninety degree angle. 

“lift your hips for me, love,” you obeyed without second thoughts, rising to your tip toes as he ran his fingers along the underside of your thighs, pulling down the fabric of your panties. they hit the floor, and your cunt went rigid with the cold air. but you heard lando making fast work with his belt, his jeans, and you sifted back and forth. you even turned to look at him over your shoulder, lashes batting unintentionally at the spring of his cock against his lower belly. 

“missed this,” he breathed, saddling his hand at the base of your neck. you pushed into his hold, deepening the connection. 

your exhaustion didn’t impede your ability to get fucked. that was for sure. lando wasn’t going to spare a single effort on your behalf. he was riled, pent up, and now he wanted to see tears in your eyes as you were split open on his cock. it was a promise. 

“missed you.” you mumbled. lando’s hand tightened around the frontal base of your throat. 

“what was that?” 

you whimpered. “missed you!”

“atta girl.” he was pleased with your higher volume, and awarded you by edging the tip of his cock through your folds. you lurched forward, gripping onto the dish of the sink. a deep groan left you, and he gave you a grace period to adjust. but it took too long. you wanted him deep. bottomed out. until there was nothing else for you to give. 

“show me,” you grit your teeth. “show me he’s not good enough.” 

your words seemed to ignite a flame inside of lando that couldn’t be ignored. you felt him huff air, the sensation tickling your spine, and he thrust himself inside of you. forget a grace period, you were going straight to heaven. 

you moaned, his cock stimulating a perverse area inside your cunt that no man could ever reach. lando was out for blood to prove that he was the only man that could truly fuck you. and fuck you he would. 

the sound of skin slapping echoed through the bathroom. your moans intertwined with his mewls, creating an atmosphere derived from both of your pleasures alone. nothing would ever compare to this feeling. how he curved deliciously inside of you, how you tightened so mercilessly around his cock. he’d let himself run dry so he could feel your tight walls each night. 

the pressure of his hand around your throat didn’t relent. with his index and thumb squeezing at every point he bottomed out, you swore you were seeing stars. you were an irrecoverable mess in lando’s arms, and that’s just the way he wanted you. in the reflection of the mirror stared the fading marks that fucker left on your skin. but he was determined to make his own. and it was different that you’d let him. without a doubt, he could bite through your skin, make you bleed for all you fucking cared. 

“who’s fucking you this good?” lando asked, hand tightening briefly for your response. you were lost in your haze, unable to truly focus on his words. your brows furrowed. 

“you,” you said, breathless, clenching onto the sink with all your prospective might. 

“who?” he prodded further, opposite hand coming to rub at your clit. you seethed, breath tightening in your throat. tears burned at your retinas, the skillful work of his fingers bringing you to an oncoming orgasm. lando felt it, and paused his fingers. 

you whimpered, then looked at him in the mirror. he loomed like no man you’ve ever seen. darkened eyes, sweaty hair. fuck, he’s so hot. “you!” 

his fingers returned their assault on your clit, and you could feel the burning heat once more. you grinded hopelessly against the palm of his hand, which he responded as to pinching the bundle of nerves atop your cunt to with more pressure. 

it didn’t take long before you were keeling over the sink, his hand around your neck forcing you to arch before him. with your unbearably tight cunt, he came with you, filling you with hot ropes of cum. the feeling of him warm, vested in your walls brought you a comfort like nothing else. 

lando’s head fell forward with his heaving chest onto the base of your neck. his heart was beating so fast, you could feel it. you lifted yourself from the downward angle of the sink, his hands coming to steady you despite his exhaustion. 

“i lied to you before,” he spoke into the skin of your neck. too fucked out to really process what he was saying, you turned slightly to catch one of his eyes. “you aren’t a favorite.”

you frowned, still confused, heart feeling ripped open once more. 

“you’re the only girl.” 

you turned fully this time to face him. 

“what?”

“you heard me.” you did. that was true. but what you didn’t believe was true, was his words. 

“don’t…” you begged. “don’t play with me anymore, lan…” the nickname rolled off your tongue with ease. “i can’t…i can’t wait for someone who doesn’t…” love, “want me the same.”

lando brushed a stray hair from your forehead. he let himself lean into you. your bodies fit together perfectly. 

“what do you want, then?” 

your voice was caught in your throat. there was a million things you wanted, but there was only one thing you needed. 

“i need you.” 

need cut through his body like wild flower to barley. need was the mending his heart needed. need was the remedy of his uncertainties about you. 

his face upturned into a smile. 

“i can’t do this,” he said, taking a breath. “any of this, without you. need you here, with me,” with his forehead touching yours, you could feel his lashes against your browline. 

“lando…”

he shook his head. your name was soft on his tongue. “please, please, stay with me. i should’ve never left that hotel room. never.” 

your cheeks were wet. but they weren’t from your tears. his. his lip was quivering when you opened your eyes, his own shut as if he were too afraid to face you. 

and instead of answering him with words, you tilted your head up, and let your lips collide with his. torn into shock, lando’s eyes flew open, unbelieving of what was happening. you were kissing him. your lips on his, intimate. you wanted to be intimate with him, not just fuck him. 

his eyes fluttered shut, and his hand came to wrap around the back of your neck. he returned your kiss, tongue eager to explore the cavern of your mouth, and you let him. you had been afraid to let him kiss you, fearful that you would become addicted to this pleasure. 

you were right in your fear. there was never a universe where you wouldn’t be drunk on his tongue, craving his teeth clashing with your own. it was an ensued battle with your mouths, one you weren’t going to relent easily. but he remained victorious and let his tongue run over yours. the two of you were inseparable, body and spirit. 

there was finally a blasted knock on the bathroom door, which had you jumping. lando turned his head over his shoulder, and was quick to drop to his knees to roll your panties back up. 

“like you down there,” you commented from him on his knees. he turned to look at you with a knowing smirk, and kissed the skin of your thighs. when he stood at his full height, he adjusted his own pants, looking presentable enough. 

“beautiful.” he complimented, leaning in for a plethora of kisses. he kissed all around your mouth, your nose, your jaw, before he landed on your mouth.

“i love you,” he blurted out against your lips. you gaped at him and he was worried you wouldn’t feel the same. but the two of you knew this answer for a long, long time. 

your brows upturned. “i love you too.” 

his hand fell on your lower back, guiding you out of the bathroom. “guess you’re my girl now, yeah?” 

you slapped his bicep. “we have a lot to talk about, but for tonight…” you nodded. 

he was happy enough with that answer. 

“gotta let raphael down easy…” you mumbled as lando held the door open for you. 

“oh…!” he said in an exaggerated tone. “that’s what his name is.” 

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