#literally my last shift in my hell job

[blackholelynn]

This but "I just have to make it through this shift"

“I just have to make it through this week”

[digitaldiseas3]

i’m already so emotionally exhausted today bruh can people just leave me aloneeeeee i’m tired of suffering and it’s everyone else’s fault!!!

[scatteredcloud]

Can’t afford my gender affirming beers so I guess I have to start smoking the eight I bought like 6 months ago before I promptly stopped smoking

[hella1975]

there's this one girl at work who thinks she's the Waitress Supreme literally is convinced the goddess of waitresses shat her out and stuck her in a barely-functioning pub in the arsecrack of england and today i was soooo poorly and sickly and weak and feeble literally on death's door cough coughu oug h etc and still had to do a 12-10 shift bc i need MONEY, so safe to say i was not in the mood for her omd. like this girl is not a manager. she is not even a supervisor. she is a student that, while working full-time, comes and goes in regards to her studies. so tell me WHY she tries to give me orders as if she's not only in a position to do so but also like she's singlehandedly running the fucking military. 'that cutlery hasn't been polished yet' 'why are you making drinks for the chefs when there's tables to clear' 'B2 havent had their menus'. all incredibly valid points when you give each problem at least 2 minutes to naturally resolve itself AND the problem in question is in your section AND you speak to people with a friendly, helpful tone instead of the most patronising bitchy voice you ever heard. i wanted to kill her dead i literally had to just ignore her every time she spoke to me even if it did come across rude like it was either that or lose my job to an ABH charge.

[yourplaceinaugust]

so i was at the till checking out customers and im shifting from foot to foot bc i had been standing for three solid hours and this is my third eight hour shift in a row and so i was in a lot of pain and the asshole customer im helping goes "what do you need to pee or something"

[officialtrashcant]

why! cant! i! sleep!!!

[miley1442111]

dealing with it- chef luca

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gif from @ wiha-jun

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summary: you see carmen for the first time in years, things happen, but at least your husband is there for you :)

pairings: chef luca x fem! reader, EX carmen berzatto x reader

warnings: smoking, cursing, reader endorses smoking (it makes sense i promise), toxic relationships, fighting, happy ending, luca is a cutie pie, carm is an ass :(

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Carmen had been staring at you the whole night. You, standing diligently beside your mother, and Luca. 

When dinner came and you sat beside Luca again, the question begged to leave his mouth, but he decided on waiting and watching. 

“So Y/n,” Sydney turned to you. “I would love to literally pick your brain apart for the inspo of your last cookbook.”

You chuckled. “Well, Luca and I went all around the world on our honeymoon and-”

“What?” Carmen choked on his drink. “S-sorry did I fucking hear that right? Honeymoon?”

Luca sighed deeply, the energy at the table shifting. “Yes Carm, she said ‘honeymoon’.”

Honeymoon. You and Luca were married. Married and he didn’t even know it. Married, and he hadn’t even known that his last chance had been his last chance. 

You were Chef Andrea’s daughter, and you were everyone’s forbidden fruit. You worked with them, trained with them, and Carmen had been so deeply interested in you, that he broke the rules. He went after you, and he didn’t even feel bad about it. You’d started out dating in secret, then slowly warmed your mom up to the idea, and suddenly it was out in the open. Sure you’d had fights and sure, maybe it wasn’t the most healthy relationship ever, but Carmen loved you. He still did. When it fell apart, it was all Carmen’s fault (as usual) and you’d sworn off chefs. 

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“Fucking hell Bear! I’m asking you to do this one fucking thing for me, and it’s too fucking hard?” You shouted at the top of your lungs. “I love you! I moved to fucking Coppenhagen for you! I moved to fucking New York for you! What is your problem with me taking a job in London?! I can probably get you into the same place-”

“NO! No, I fucking don’t alright? You’re fucking- you’re fucking boring! You never make anything new- you’re so f-fucking obsessed with being the-the-the best at something that you won’t even try to innovate!”

You stood there, in his kitchen and he watched as the tears fell. He took a deep breath and stepped closer, holding your waist in his hands. He tried not to be offended or upset when you went rigid as he touched you, but he felt his heart break. “Baby I-I’m sorry, look, y’know I’m sorry-” 

“You’re a piece of shit Carm. Just because I’m better than you doesn’t mean you get to talk to me like that. We’re not fucking trainees at my mom’s restaurant anymore, alright? I’m fucking better than you and i know it boils your fucking blood. I got this position. All on my own,” you spat. “You are the lowest of the low Carm. I swear to fucking god, if I ever date another chef again, kill me.”

And with that, you walked out. Out of his apartment and out of his life. 

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“W-wait so-s-, you two got married? Since when?” Carmen laughed, but it was wrong. It was forced and haunted, strange.  

“Since the 14th of July last year,” Luca smiled and you pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Congratulations guys,” Sydney smiled. “Carm, say congratulations,” she whispered and Carm nodded furiously.

“Yeah! Yeah- congratulations to the liar and her shitty douchebag of a husband!” He cheered, gathering the attention of the other tables. 

“Stop making a fucking scene Carm,” your voice cut through the ringing in his ears. “This isn’t about you. This is about my mom, and what this restaurant meant to people. Stop. Being. An. Asshole.”

He felt like he’d been effectively bitch slapped, and he quietened down, but not before kicking Luca under the table. 

They’d both been after you, back in the day. And you’d picked Carm at first, and realised your mistake. When you met Luca in London, you weren’t going to mess it up again. 3 years later, you were a year married, and a lot happier. Too bad Carmen had to make everything about himself, again.

He went out to get some ‘air’ a little while later, and you followed him. 

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“So…” you sighed, standing beside him. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he sighed. He watched as you took a cigarette out and lit it, then offered one to him. He shook his head. 

“You quit?” You asked, blowing the smoke away from him. He nodded. “You should start again.”

He looked at you in confusion. “What?”

“You shouldn’t stop, you’re fucking crazy when you don’t smoke,” you chuckled, though everything you said was true. He’d tried to give it up for a month about 4 months into your relationship and it was the most stressful month of your life. You sighed as you thought about it. Every time he was rude to someone, you apologised for him. Every time he fucked something up, you made it up for him. Every time he did something stupid, you made it smart somehow. It was fucked up how much he relied on you, when you thought about it in hindsight. “Everyone will thank you.”

He laughed. “I guess that was a shitty month, huh?”

“One of the worst of my life,” you admitted. 

There was a moment of silence. 

“I miss it,” He admitted. 

“Smoking? You can have the rest of this pack-”

“Us.”

You sighed. “You were doing so well,” you joked. “Just don’t bring it up Carm, we don’t need to dig up the past.”

“I want to,” he pleaded. 

“I don’t,” you scoffed. “There’s nothing for us to talk about, nothing about us worked, nothing about us was ok, or normal, or happy, or-”

“Does he make you happy?” Carmen asked, venom in his tone. “Does he make you feel fuckin’-fuckin’ butterflies? Does he fuck you like I did? D-does he even see you the way I did? Does he make you laugh?”

“He doesn’t make me cry,” you smiled softly, thinking of Luca and how much you truly loved him. “He doesn’t make me question our relationship everyday. He doesn’t make me feel untalented and undeserving. He doesn’t make me feel used. He met me in London when I was crushed after our break-up, and he healed something he didn’t break in me, alright? He made me feel loved for the first time in a long time. My mom fucking loves him, a lot more than she liked you. He let me take everything at my own pace, and he never pushed me into something I wasn’t ready for. He wasn’t afraid to show his love for me to anyone! He didn’t make me question if we were even dating, ever! And the best part is, he fucking married me Carm, in this gorgeous ceremony where he cried while I came down the aisle and he cried during his vows. Do you want to know what his vows were? Ask him when we get inside, because he got his and mine fucking tattooed on his arm!” You were welling up at this stage. “He stood there with me, through thick and fucking thin, he made me feel loved when I felt unlovable, Carmen. And yes he gives me butterflies, yes he fucks me better than you ever did, and he sees me for who I am. So yes, he makes me very fucking happy Carmen.”

Carmen stood there for a moment, then nodded. “I still love you, you know that, right?”

You scoffed, stamping out your cigarette. “You might want to get over that,” and you turned away, and walked back into the dinner. The rest of the dinner was quick, and you skipped the invite to Sydney’s to retire to your hotel room. You sat on the bed, makeup wipes in hand as you tried to wash the night off of you. 

“Hey darling,” Luca’s soft voice cut through the thoughts clouding your mind. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You smiled as he wrapped you up in a bear hug from behind, he was so perfect, so kind, so Luca. “Sure.”

“I heard a little bit of what you said to Carmy outside.”

You took a deep breath. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Before tonight, I was really fucking scared that when you found Carmy he’d somehow convince you I was a piece of shit and he’d sink his fucking claws into you again.”

You pressed a kiss to his arm and nodded. “He’s fucking…”

“He’s the worst,” he finished for you. “And I’m sorry about what he said tonight. He should’ve had the fucking manners to at least let us get to the third course before he started being a piece of shit.”

You both laughed, and you felt all the tension you held in slowly dissipate. “It was so delicious.”

“It was fucking amazing,” he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “You mum really did something special there.”

“At least we’ll see her more in London,” you shrugged. “I really loved that place.”

“So did I,” He sighed against your neck. “Remember training there? God, you were so fucking cute in your chef’s hat-”

“Hats make me look stupid!” You argued, but laughed regardless. You flung his arms off of you, and a wrestling match ensued, one that ended with him under you. You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, then he deepened it, his hands sneaking up your thighs and around your head. 

“You look good in anything,” he whispered. “But my favourite thing you ever wore was your wedding dress.”

When you pulled away from his lips you saw the starry-eyed smile and sincere look on his face, and you knew you made the right choice. 

Luca was your everything. Carmen was nothing now, and he had to live with that.

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the bear masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

[aurorawritestoescape]

DIRTY SEXY MONEY || 1,1k || pt 2 of Like It’s The Last Time

Summary: Joel has fun with you after the heist.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, f!oral, size kink, squirting, cum eating, mention of violence and guns

Thank you @milla-frenchy for beta reading!<3

Part 3 || Series masterlist

*****

“What the hell..?”

You gawk at the sight in front of you, fingers clutching the towel wrapped around your body, still slightly wet from the shower.

“Hop on, baby. Gonna fuck you on it,” Joel growls standing at the side of the bed with a pile of 100 dollar bills scattered all over the ugly motel bedding. You two always fuck like rabbits after the heist but this is new.

His dark gaze is set on you as his bare foot pushes an open bag full of stacks of cash out of the way and he stalks towards you. He’s naked except for a towel hanging low on his hips, just out of the shower too. His slicked back hair is dripping wet, pupils are blown, as the adrenaline of the job is still coursing through his veins. A noticeable lump under the towel tells you he’s not going to tell you twice.

Your nervous giggle breaks the silence as you shuffle back from him, raising your hands in the air.

“N-no, Joel. It’s dirty…and we’re wet. No!”

He steps up close, caging you against the opposite wall, a smirk on his handsome face.

“ ‘course it’s dirty, baby. We earned it with our guns.”

His arms snake around your body and he squeezes you in his python-like grip.

“No, literally dirty,” you mumble as his embrace quickly overwhelms you, making you feel small and helpless. Your pussy is gushing for him as a drop of fear adds to the arousal pooling deep in your lower belly. He’d never hurt you but the terror that you saw in people’s eyes today at the bank is still fresh in your mind.

“Wanna eat you out on this dirty cash.”

His whisper sends chills down your spine as he slowly pulls you to the bed.

You follow him like you always do and in a second you both fall on the pile of money. He pins you with his massive side as your back dips into the heap of bills. Their crinkling sound mixes with your whimper when Joel unwraps your towel exposing your naked body to the cold air of the motel room. Your skin erupts in goosebumps and he groans at the sight of you.

He puts his big warm palm over the base of your throat and then glides it down between your breasts over your heaving belly and to your pussy that is already throbbing for him. He cups it and slightly squeezes your flesh like it belongs to him. It does belong to him.

“Tommy'll kill us,” you moan, lifting your hips into his touch. Joel nuzzles your cheek, breathing in your scent and then nibbles on your earlobe.

“He’s gettin’ shitfaced in some bar, baby. By the time he’s back and sober it’ll all be in the bag.”

“Do you trust me to keep this a secret, Miller?”

“Trust ya with my life, baby,” he rasps and kisses you.

It’s full of fire and passion as his tongue tangles with yours inside your welcoming mouth. The bills splash around when Joel takes his towel off, not leaving your lips even for a second, and shifts his body to get between your thighs, elbows planted by your shoulders. His hand slides under the back of your head, keeping you in place for him to devour.

The outside world stops existing when he holds you under his massive body like this. No more people, problems, fears, concerns. You’re not running anymore. Even if this feeling is fleeting, you cherish it like the most valuable gift.

You open your thighs wider to welcome his hard cock that twitches against your mound, the tip smearing precum over your belly.

“Fuck me, Joel,” you beg but he has other plans.

He parts from you and moves down, peppering open-mouth kisses on your neck and breasts. He sucks on your nipples, one and then the other and you squirm under him, moaning, fingers running through his wet hair.

He grunts from the sensation but then gets off the bed and kneels on the floor.

“Told ya ‘m gonna eat ya.” He grabs your ankles and pulls you to the foot of the bed making you gasp. You slide down on the money with ease, some of the dollar bills falling on the floor next to Joel.

“Spread ‘em wide.”

He presses on the insides of your thighs with his massive hands and a memory of those hands throwing a security guard into a wall just a few hours ago sends more slick to your dripping entrance. You lift yourself on your elbows and whimper at the image of him on his knees between your thighs.

“Fuck… so wet, baby… look at this,” he presses his tongue to your hole and pulls his head away, as you watch a string of arousal hang between his mouth and your pussy.

A few seconds later you’re nothing but a moaning trembling mess as he’s devouring your cunt like it’s his last meal before an execution.

His tongue is everywhere, gliding between your folds, swirling infinities over your clit, fucking into your clenching hole. A scream announces your climax and he drinks from you, humming with pleasure.

With a carnal gaze and a mischievous smirk, not waiting for your aftershocks to stop, he pushes two thick fingers into your soaked pussy. The first stroke tells you exactly what the devil wants from you.

“Oh fuck no, Joel!” You try to squirm up the bed but he grabs your hip pinning you to the bed with his strong hand, expression focused on the goal.

You slump into the cash with another nervous giggle and stare at the ceiling.

“C’mon, baby, let’s christen this batch,” Joel chuckles, pushing his thick digits in and out of your entrance, expertly coaxing another explosion out of you.

“Tommy’ll kill us,” you say again before he presses something deep inside you once, twice and your juices spurt out of your stretched hole, soaking Joel’s chest.

He pulls his fingers out but doesn’t stop playing with your pussy as he vigorously rubs it with his whole palm, making you come harder and squirt more. The drops of your liquid drizzle over the scrunched dollar bills and your heated bodies.

Through the haze in your eyes and mind you see Joel standing up, jerking his cock for a few moments and then painting your puffy folds with his pearly cum.

He plops on the bed next to you and pulls your exhausted body into his arms. It’s messy and filthy, you are both covered in cum as well as the money around you.

“I hate you, Joel,” you murmur into his neck as he holds you tight.

“Hate you too, baby,” he rasps and you two rest, spent and satisfied, listening to each other’s heartbeats.

Suddenly a knock on the door breaks the peaceful silence. One shared glance and you two rush to grab your guns.

*****

Thank you for reading! 🌸

Part 3 || Series Masterlist || MASTERLIST

If you’d like to be tagged in the series let me know.

Tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @missannwinchester @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre

[inmyheaddd]

✦ nobody gets me, you do - averyjameson

a/n: wooo games untold release day!!! the first part of this is so silly help i love max summary: avery has the worst interview in the world, with constant interruptions and snide comments. jameson is watching it from home, (along with his brothers, max, and lyra) and finds himself going to see avery, despite her team telling him no. wc: 2.4k

max was watching her best friends interview live on her phone, sitting in her boyfriends bed.

she could read her like an open book, and could tell something was definitely wrong. 

“xander,” she called out the boy next to her who was solving a 9x9 rubix cube leisurely, laying on his back with his hands up in the air. “are you seeing this? look what they’re doing to my girl avery.”

xander sat up, and watched for a few seconds. to xander, she looked how she did the first time he ever saw her: scared, uncomfortable, but trying to put on a brave face.

after just two seconds, he called out at the top of his lungs: “jamesoooonnnn.”

no response. 

max pulled xander out of the room — much to his dismay, and finally spotted jameson in one of the libraries.

she barely got a word in before jamesons eyes flickered to her phone that was still playing the interview. his brows furrowed, “you’re watching the interview too?”

“…of course i am,” she deadpanned, “i’m literally avery’s girlfriend.

xander raised a brow from beside max, and jameson and him shared a confused look. “oh… right.” jameson said as he nodded slowly. 

“yeah…!” xander added. “how could i forget?...” he chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head as his eyes flickered between jameson and max.

“you guys are weird…” max trailed off, confused at their strange reactions, when she said something so completely normal in her opinion. 

 “but look!” she exclaimed, “she literally looks so… uncomfortable. in their right mind allowed this interviewer to have a job?” she said, as the two brothers looked at the tiny screen on her phone showing avery’s interview live. 

they quickly ditched watching it on the phone, because jameson suggested they watch it on the large tv in one of their living rooms.  

max rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath that sounded like, “of course you’d suggest that.” but nodded anyway as the three made their way to the nearest living room. 

avery shifted in her seat slightly, her smile just a little off and strained as the interviewer asked another prying question.

“so, how does it feel to have your entire life handed to you on a silver platter- or shall i say, gold?” the audience laughed at the last line. his tone was light, but the implications were hard to miss.

avery smiled, like landon had rehearsed with her, trying to maintain her composure. 

“who the hell is this guy?” jameson scoffed, “seriously?” he stood up from the couch they were sitting on and ran a hand through his hair. 

“i wouldn’t exactly describe it that way,” she responded far too fast, so she went to correct herself— otherwise she wouldn’t her the end of it from her team. “but i’m endlessly grateful for all the opportunities i have, and for all the experiences.” she said with a smile that looked a little too sweet and practiced, that it made jameson sick.

the interviewer leaned forward, a cruel smirk on his face that made avery want to grimace. “oh?” he challenged, “so you’re saying the billion-dollar inheritance didn’t change your life overnight?”

xanders usual playful grin was gone as he muttered, “avery looks like she’s about to walk out.”

“she should.” jameson was now pacing in front of the TV, unable to stand still any longer. “if i’d been there—”

“but you’re not,” grayson said calmly, standing beside another couch that lyra was sitting on. “she’ll handle it.”

lyra had heard everyone in the room a few minutes earlier, and suggested her and grayson go see what was going on. 

jameson’s eyes focused laser sharp on the tv once again as he heard the interviewer mention his name, before turning back to look at grayson.

“she shouldn’t have to handle it, grayson.” his voice cracked with frustration.

her heart raced, but she managed a small laugh. “i think anyone’s life would change with something like that. my life has changed a great ordeal, but it’s more complicated than—”

“and what about your relationship with jameson hawthorne?” he interrupted, not caring for a single word she had to say. “was that part of the package deal?”

the live audience laughed, and avery just smiled politely, frustration flashing behind her eyes that only the people closest to her could spot.

grayson was going to say something to calm his brother down, but didn’t get the chance to. 

“oh, this guy is a fucking comedian, isn’t he?” jameson ran another frustrated hand through his hair, chuckling lowly as he exhaled. “i’m getting him fired— bankrupt for gods sake.” 

he knew how snobby-privileged-rich-kid he sounded even to his own ears, but he didn’t care. 

“yeah,” lyra chimed in, who rarely ever agreed with jameson.  “i’m with you on that one.”

jameson shook his head, letting out a blow of air that it almost sounded like a whistle, “goddamnit, i don’t care, i’m going. her team and the paparazzi can go to hell for all i care.” 

he turned off the tv, he couldn’t bear to see avery uncomfortable for another second.

nash stood leaning against the wall, sending a slight nod to jameson. “you need a ride?” he asked, alluding to the motorcycle jameson loves to use when he needs to blow off steam. 

with no complaints from nash, jameson knew that he was doing the right thing. 

he muttered something under his breath along the lines of: “too dangerous,” and shook his head. and with that, he made his way to the stairs. 

everyone shared confused glances — jameson hawthorne, saying something was too dangerous? something has seriously changed. 

“is it just me… or is jameson being weirdly responsible right now.” xander muttered as he looked at the turned off tv infront of him. 

grayson and lyra shared a look that communicated the message; ‘…he’s still not responsible.’ but didn’t say anything.

max nodded at xander in agreement. “it’s the avery effect.” she stated matter-of-factly. “i don’t know about you, but whenever i’m around her i feel like… woah, i just want to be a better person, you know?” 

xander thought about it for a moment with his hand on his chin, and then nodded ,like max had said something profound. 

he looked up at her, and then they both nodded in sync, sharing a high five. 

nash, who was still standing leaned against the wall, stifled a laugh, shaking his head in amusement before walking out of the living room. 

he was definitely going to be mentioning the “avery effect” to libby later.

— 

avery sighed as she finally got in the dressing room, leaning her head back on the door and shutting her eyes. 

she got to go home in half an hour now, finally. 

atleast she was done with that interview. 

she walked away from the door, slumping in her chair as she brought her hands to her face, looking into the large hollywood style mirror infront of her. 

she was hyper-aware of everything around her—the feeling of her clothes scratching against her skin, the way her makeup suddenly felt heavy on her face, the ache in her cheeks from smiling, and the slight tremor in her hands. 

avery re-enacted the smiles she gave throughout the interview, wondering if they looked too fake, if she needs to start tweaking them, and overthinking just about every small detail.

5 minutes had passed, and she was still staring into the mirror. 

surely this wasn’t healthy, but she stayed practicing the answers she gave, sighing in defeat when she remembered how people would take it as snappy and defensive.

god, she wouldn’t have wished that interview from hell on her worst enemy. 

her reflection started to look weird to herself, but she kept practicing the right way to smile, to not look fake.

suddenly, there was a knock on the door, and her attention was diverted from the mirror for the first time in 10 minutes. 

“yeah, come in!” she called out quietly, eyes fixated on the door, nervous to see who it was.

hair and makeup? someone from her team already there to scold her? or god forbid, the interviewer— her thoughts were all silenced when she saw pair of familiar green eyes.

“jameson,” she breathed out, “what are you doing here?” 

his hair was a tad messier than usual, and his eyes seemed panicked as he looked around the room, until they finally met hers. 

he shut the door behind him and locked it all in one swift movement and walked over to her, standing behind her chair she was sitting on. 

his hands found her shoulders, but she stood up and turned around, meeting him face to face.

“heiress,” he put his calmest voice on as his hands found their way to the sides of her face. “i was watching— we were watching the interview at home.” his eyes flickered between hers, “are you alright?”

she smiled a little, letting out an exhale. “yeah, why wouldn’t i be?” she shook her head in an attempt to portray she was confused. 

it was slightly difficult for her to act like she was perfectly fine, when she had spent the last 20 minutes doing nothing but overthink. 

he brought her out of her thoughts once again. “avery.”

“what?”

“i saw the look on your face— you may be a good bluffer, but not with your emotions. not with me, atleast.” 

unfortunately for avery, jameson could see what she was feeling when she tried her hardest to hide it, even from her own self. 

she sighed, trying to shrug it off. “jameson, it’s just one interview. they ask questions like that all the time—it’s part of the job.”

“i don’t care if it’s part of the job. you never asked for this.” his voice was hard-edged, his hands moving down her shoulders, then down to her hands. “you looked uncomfortable, avery. you shouldn’t have to be fine with that.”

“i was managing it,” she countered, tilting her head up to look at him, trying to ease the tension. “that’s what i’m supposed to do.”

her hands fiddled with his fingers with a mind of their own. it was a tell tale sign she was holding her feelings back. jameson knew it better than anyone.

“and that’s the problem.” he didn’t speak to her condescendingly, or in any way that was trying to belittle her. he was just worried. 

he simply cared, and it made avery’s heart soar. 

“they’re counting on you to just handle it every single time, like it doesn’t get to you.” his voice was low, “you shouldn’t act okay with it just because it’s easier. it’s not right.”

she wanted to prove that she was okay, that she wasn’t bothered, and that he didn’t have to worry about her, but she couldn’t, because then she’d be lying.

she let out a small sigh of defeat, “you’re right, jameson.” she shook her head, “i know… i just— i don’t want you to worry about me, or anyone to worry about me.”

“tough luck.” he replied, voice low but unwavering as his eyes searched hers. 

she opened her mouth to argue, but his hand gently brushed a stray piece of hair from her face, and the words seemed to fade.  

“its the worst thing in the world, seeing the hurt on your face. i hate it.” avery looked down, but he tilted her chin back up. “and,” he murmured, “i hate the people inferior who project their own problems onto you, because they feel like they can, even more.” 

avery couldn’t argue with the rest of what he said, but she needed to say something. 

“no one’s inferior to me.” she mumbled 

“please,” jameson said with a deep chuckle, “i could name quite a few.” he said. “for starters, that interviewer—“

avery cut jameson off with a light laugh, a sound that made jameson feel like the sun was shining down just for them two. 

his eyes flickered all around her face, his own smile growing as he committed the picture to memory. “he was the worst. am i wrong? tell me i’m wrong.” he teased, selfishly wanting more laughter out of avery because he loved it so much.

she shook her head vigorously, “no,” she laughed, “god, no. he was the worst. i hate that idiot.” 

jameson let out another one of his bigger chuckles, “keep going,” he joked, “there’s my heiress.” 

avery rolled her eyes jokingly, feeling the last of her worry fade away. “i wanted to punch him square in the face,” she said, and jameson rose his brows in amusement and nodded enthusiastically.

she continued, “but that doesn’t matter anymore, because you’re here now, and that’s more important.” 

he let out a breath, his shoulders loosing the last of their tension. “is that so?” he murmured, his hand slipping around her waist, pulling her a bit closer.

“yeah, it is.” and before he could protest or mention anything about her emotions any longer, she leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. 

he melted into her, arms wrapping around her fully, and tighter. she felt like she could stay in his arms for all eternity as she put her arms around his neck. 

the kiss was brief, reassuring, but enough to melt away the last traces of his worry.

when she pulled back, jameson was looking at her with softness in his eyes— one rarely seen by others, but always seen by her. 

his thumb brushed over her cheek, and his eyes travelled her face all over. he looked deep in thought, and avery could sense a question was stirring. 

“heiress?”

she hummed, “yes, jamie?”

“you know, i never mean to be,” he hesitated slightly, “overbearing, or controlling, i just…” he paused, pressing his lips together in a line as he racked his brain for the right words. 

“yeah, i know, jamie.” she nodded slightly with her hand brushing the sides of his face, understanding what he couldn’t verbalize.

his hand held her hand that was on his face, and moved it back down. 

both their hands were locked together now, and jameson rested his forehead on hers gently.

avery was so sure he would lean in for another kiss, perhaps one less tentative, now that she could see the tension had dissolved from his shoulders. 

she let herself relax, realizing that she stopped fidgeting with jameson’s hands a while ago. 

he brought her so much peace without even trying. she wondered if she ever did the same for him— and then jameson broke the silence. 

“i’m still getting him fired, by the way.”

avery laughed quietly, almost scoffing in amusement. she bit back her smile as she shook her head, taking a slight step back, hands still intertwined. “of course you are.”

“for you, heiress?” his cheshire grin slowly returned, reeling her back in close. he shrugged, “i’d do much worse.”

taglist: @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary @whatsamongus @littlemissmentallyunstable

@anintellectualintellectual  @lovethornes @maybxlle @sheisntyou @emelia07

@midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @charsoamerican @hxress23 @imaseabear 

@clarissaweasley-10  @off-to-the-r4ces @thelov3lybookworm @graysw1fe @lanterns-and-daydreams

@hermesenthusiast @elysianwayy77 @that-daughter-of-hephaestus

[nolita-fairytale]

j is for james beard... and for jealousy | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader

pairing: jealous boyfriend!carmy x female!reader 

word count: 7.4k

summary: after sydney takes home a big win at the james beard awards, you and your boyfriend carmy run into an old rival for a fiery, chaotic, and surprisingly sexy night. companion piece to 'make my heart surrender' but can be read as a standalone oneshot.

warnings: 18+ chapter, minors dni: lots of swearing, p*rn with a plot, smut, p in v unprotected sex (reader is using hormonal birth control in monogamous relationship), praise kink, rough jealousy sex

a/n: how dare I drag poor james beard into this hetero nonsense?! anywayssss surprise i'm back because i keep having ideas for these two. maybe one day i'll just write a carmy x reader piece that doesn't include this character but for now... please enjoy this literal porn with a plot. also: let's all agree that toxic jealousy is a red flag in relationships, however, i wanted to work with a scenario where carmy would perhaps be more sexually assertive.

“I look ridiculous,” Carmy had grumbled earlier that day, at his reflection in the mirror. 

He had never felt like himself while wearing a suit. Sure, he would spend time, effort, and money into finding the perfect vintage denim jacket, but a suit? He’d much rather be behind the scenes, in his chef whites, instead of this. 

“You look…” you’d countered him, emphasizing the word ‘look’. “...hot, Carmen.”

He’d given you somewhat of a half smile in response – flattered by your comment, and also unconvinced you hadn’t just said in an attempt to get him out of the house. 

Or out of obligation. 

Because he’s your boyfriend. Because you’ll say anything to get him out for Syd’s big night. Because you love him. 

Carmy had never gotten used to the whole celebrity aspect of the food world – especially his own. These award ceremonies were always an uncomfortable reminder that he never quite felt like he fit in. 

“Do you think Syd would kill me if-?” Carmy had asked, shifting uncomfortably. 

“Baby, Sydney is counting on us… and she and I will both kick your ass if you don’t get in the car,” you’d cut him off, because there was no way in hell he was getting out of this. With a scowl on his face, you’d dragged him down the stairs and into your Uber. 

And that’s how he ended up here, at the James Beard award ceremony on a Sunday night, as you all wait anxiously for the announcement. While the restaurant hadn’t been open long enough to be nominated and was actively in a state of ‘working out the kinks,’ Carmy’s celebrity in the food world had brought in a lot of press. Ever since Sydney and Carmy had become partners in the reopen, he had been more than happy to let her take center stage. When the nominations were announced, and Sydney was on the list, he was ecstatic for her. Truthfully, it was a relief that she seemed to do much better with all the stuff he wasn’t crazy about: press, interviews, the spotlight. 

“Wake me up when this snoozefest is over,” Richie mumbles trying his best to pretend he’s not having a good time. You snort, shooting Richie a look, because you know it’s one of the most exciting nights he’s had in a while. 

Besides Carmy, who wouldn’t want to get all dressed up to go to a fancy party and celebrate Sydney?

You’ve somehow managed to corral the core staff of The Bear here this evening. The entire restaurant had been abuzz when the nominations were announced, and talks of who would get stuck at the restaurant the night of the award ceremony had already begun. It was an easy decision to close the restaurant for that night, so that everyone who wanted to could attend. 

Your life here is better than you ever imagined it could be. Working your ass off in a kitchen that you love has been invigorating. It’s helping you fall in love with the process all over again. You suspect that your time in fine dining had, perhaps, run its course even before you quit your last job. Back then, here is what you’d longed for on the days you felt your most lost. You love being a teacher; you love mentoring Marcus. He’s got a desire to learn that never quits, and it inspires you day in and day out. But most importantly, you’re head over heels in love. You’re so deeply in love with Carmy that sometimes, you wonder what took the two of you so long to pull the trigger.

Tonight is no different. You’re surrounded by people you adore more than anything  – people you’ve been in the trenches with during a dinner service from hell, people you’ve laughed your ass off with after a round of drinks outside of the restaurant – and you’re all here to celebrate someone who’s become a close friend of yours. It’s just another reminder – another sign from the universe – that you made the right decision.

And you’re sure Sydney is going to win. 

You’re not sure how you know. 

You can just feel it. 

Sydney sits between Carmy and Marcus, and you’re seated in between Carmy and Richie. You notice Carmy’s leg is bouncing up and down impatiently as he anticipates the next category of awards. Even though you know these big social events put Carmy on edge, you know he’s really just nervous for her. 

“And the winner… for the James Beard Rising Star award of 2023…” the announcer, esteemed chef Mashama Bailey begins, grabbing the attention of the entire room. 

Your heart is pounding in your chest, and Carmy continues to fidget nervously. You reach across Carmy’s lap, grabbing Sydney’s hand and giving it a squeeze of reassurance. Sydney holds on to you, and while you’re sure she might cut off your circulation from squeezing so tightly, you don’t mind. You’re all on the edges of your seat. 

“Sydney Adamu of The Bear!”

You and Carmy are cheering as loudly as you can, while Richie jumps to his feet letting out a loud ‘whoop.’ A chorus of ‘that’s right,’ ‘she won!’ and ‘c’mon syd’ echoes through Tina, Gary, and Ebra and Manny, while Angel is already on his feet taking a video of the crowd. Everyone is cheering so boisterously you’re not sure it’ll ever stop. 

“You won, Syd!” you yell over the loud claps and cheers, giving her hand one more squeeze. She rises, letting go of your hand, you and Carmy both following to give her some space to walk through the aisle. 

“Let’s go, Syd! That’s right. That’s right,” Marcus calls out loudly, jumping to his feet with Richie and earning a few looks from the people sitting to the right and left. 

“Congratulations, chef,” Carmy whispers, as she passes him by. You watch as Marcus ushers her over to the aisle so that she can go up to the stage while Angel films the whole thing on his iPhone. Carmy has the proudest look on his face, the tip of his nose the lightest blush pink, and you’re beaming as you watch your friend make her way towards the stage of the opera house. 

“Remember when this was you?” you whisper to Carmy, catching his attention. 

“Tonight everything changes for her,” Carmy replies, grinning from ear to ear. 

“For the both of you,” you add. “For all of us.”

The night he won the rising star award put him on the map. While you hadn’t known Carmy at the time, you’d heard about him in those early days of both of your careers. Carmy had risen so quickly through the ranks that by the time you met him, he was only a few weeks away from his promotion to CDC at the old restaurant. Not only did this put Sydney on the map, but it was better press for The Bear than anyone could ask for. 

“Congratulations, baby,” you say, kissing him on the cheek. He just shoots you a look, the pride evident in his eyes, before wrapping his arm around you and holding you close. 

~

“I just wanna say,” Richie begins, having garnered the attention of your group. You’re all huddled in a circle at the reception, champagne flutes in everyone’s hands. 

“I know we don’t always see eye to eye…” Richie toasts, earning a few looks and side comments from your team. “And don’t forget about that time you stabbed me… but even if this brings a bunch of fuckin’ strokes to the restaurant, we’re so fuckin’ proud of you.” 

“To Sydney, who’s… what does Carmy say… changed the chemistry and who is the heart of this restaurant,” Ebra adds on. 

Tina smiles proudly, raising her glass to Sydney. It brings a smile to your face to see her all dressed up too. 

“Syd, I don’t know where the hell we’d be without you,” Carmy continues, raising his glass. 

“Cheers to you, Sydney!” you say, clinking champagne glasses, before taking your first celebratory drink as a team. 

It doesn’t take long for your group to break off into smaller ones – making comments about how out of place you all feel at this fancy of an event. Richie’s wrapping an arm around Carmy’s shoulder, ushering him to a side conversation – something about ‘lizards this’, and ‘the working class that.’ 

“So how do you feel?” you ask, turning towards Sydney, taking a moment to quietly congratulate your friend. 

“I think I’m still in shock,” she sighs in relief, earning a chuckle from you. 

“Well, I’ll cheers to that. You know. To calm the nerves,” you joke, raising your glass once more. 

“To liquid courage,” she agrees, clinking glasses with you again, as you both decide just to finish off your flutes of champagne. 

“Can I get you another drink?” you offer, placing your now empty champagne 

“Oooo can you get me one of those fancy themed cocktails I saw at the bar earlier?” Sydney replies, excitedly. 

“Anything for you,” you say back. 

“And when you’re back, I think I saw Carla Hall has a tasting table here so we should make our rounds,” Sydney mentions, because there’s no way either of you are missing out on the fact that the best chefs in the world are cooking in this room right now. 

You nod in agreement, heading to the bar to get both you and Sydney a new round of drinks. 

“What can I getcha?” the bartender asks. 

You glance at the menu, deciding on your go-to, a gin and tonic, and then one of the featured cocktails of the evening that Sydney mentioned, knowing she’s a tequila drinker. You wait at the bar for your drinks, knowing the fancy mezcal cocktail you just ordered for Sydney will take a little bit of a time to make. 

“I was wondering when I’d run into you,” you hear a voice say, grabbing your attention. It’s a familiar voice that you were really hoping you’d never have to hear again. 

“Funny, because I was hoping to avoid you,” you quip back, turning to the man who’s just joined you at the bar. His bravado alone is enough to earn an eye roll from you and you can feel your guard going up. 

“What’re you doing here?” you ask, unable to hide the disdain in your voice. 

“You haven’t heard?” he asks, a cocky smirk on his face that you just want to slap off of it. 

“I don’t make it my business to keep up with you, Walker,” you shoot back, using his last name as a formality, completely unamused by his question.

“God, I love it when you talk dirty,” he croons, a flirtatious low chuckle rumbling out of his chest. 

You ignore him, rolling your eyes for the second time in the last two minutes, as you thank the bartender who’s just come back with your gin and tonic. You raise the glass to your lips, getting a head start since now, you definitely need this drink. 

“Moved to LA. Took a CDC position out there. Besides, after you left… New York was… getting boring,” he explains, playing it cool. He drops the name of the well-respected LA restaurant that he’s running now in an attempt to impress you, which only seems to piss you off further. 

You scoff in response. If you weren’t waiting on Sydney’s drink, you’d be long gone by now, but as you watch the bartender burn a sugar cube, you wonder how damn long it takes for a fucking mezcal drink to be made. 

Maybe if I’ll just ignore him, he’ll fuck off, you think to yourself.

“You know, I was surprised to hear you moved to Chicago. Left without saying goodbye. Then again, should’ve known…” he provokes, continuing his very one sided conversation. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean, Nate?” you snap, turning your head to him, instantly regretting giving him the attention he’s so desperately seeking.

He raises an eyebrow, before nodding towards Carmy as a reply. Your gaze follows, and you can tell that Carmy’s noticed who you’re talking to at the bar. 

“It’s a small world. Word gets around. People talk.”

But you’re not listening to him, your eyes fixed on Carmy. Carmy sends a look of concern your way, but you nod back to him as if to say ‘all good.’ You can hold your own here. Nate watches carefully, noticing the look you share with Carmy across the room. He was always a detail oriented son of a bitch. 

“Classic golden boy,” Nate sighs, the envy in his voice giving him away. 

“Don’t you think your little one sided rivalry with Carmy is getting a little old?” you laugh dryly. 

“One sided?” Nate asks back, taking a step towards you. 

“Yeah, one sided,” you repeat, standing your ground. Now way in hell you’re going to let this asshole back you up. “Because if I recall correctly, he never indulged you in your silly little games.”

Nate laughs again, taking another step towards you that makes you increasingly more uncomfortable. 

“If that’s how you remember it.”

“Oh grow up.”

“Not when golden boy gets everything I want.”

“You’re so full of shit!” you exclaim, finally taking a step back. “Carmy’s had to work for everything he’s achieved. You and I both know that.”

“How do you think he’d feel,” Nate starts, and you’re not sure if he’s trying to sound seductive or intimidating – neither of which are working on you. “... if he knew about what happened between us? After he left New york? It was… what? A week, maybe two, before you jumped into bed with me?”

“Carmy knows I’m not a thing to be had, Nate,” you seethe, glaring at him. 

The bartender returns with your second drink finally. 

“You sure about that?” Nate smirks, reaching out to touch you. 

What a fucking asshole. 

“You’re disgusting,” you seethe, jerking your arm away from him. You take both of your drinks, and you can’t get out of there fast enough. 

“It was great catching up,” he calls after you, cockily. 

“Can’t say the same,” you say, not even turning to look back at him. 

You return to your group, holding in your fury. It’s Sydney’s big night and you’d much rather focus on that than the asshole of an old coworker you can’t fucking stand. You try to shake off the interaction, deciding it’s not even worth expending energy on. 

“What the hell was that all about?” Sydney asks, having witnessed your tenuous interaction with the man you called Nate. She thanks you as you hand her her new drink. 

“Absolute trashcan of a human. We used to work with him. In New York,” you said, letting out a puff of flustered air. 

“Okay but… that was weird right?” Sydney questions, seeing that this guy’s clearly gotten under your skin.

“Totally. He’s a piece of shit. He and Carmy always had this weird rivalry but it was mostly on his end. I… also may or may not have made the dumbest mistake ever once upon a time and slept with him… like… over a year ago,” you confess, feeling just a little bit guilty about it. 

“Noooo,” she replies, her eyes widening. “You slept with that guy?”

“Yeah,” you answer, regretfully. “Not one of my finest moments. Long story short: right after Carmy left New York to come back here, I got a little too drunk with some coworkers. I was really sad and it was stupid, and uh, he was… let’s just say more than happy to play the part of a good listener.”

“Can’t imagine that guy being good, or a listener, let alone both at once,” Sydney replies, seeing the negative effect he’s had on you in one conversation.

“Yeah, It was a stupid fucking mistake and I regretted it the next morning. If you can believe it, he got even more insufferable when he realized it would never happen again,” you tell her, shaking off the bad taste in your mouth the conversation left you with. 

“Yo,” Carmy says, hesitantly. He can tell that you’re pissed after your conversation at the bar. “Everything good?”

“Yeah,” you answer, honestly. “Just Nate Walker being a fuckin’ asshole. But what’s new?”

“Hey Syd! Let’s go grab a bite,” Marcus calls to her. 

“You guys mind?” she asks, looking from you to Carmy. 

You shake your heads ‘no’, and honestly, you’re glad it gives you a little time alone with your boyfriend. You watch as Sydney leaves with Marcus to make the rounds, leaving you and Carmy alone. 

“Haven’t heard that name in a while,” Carmy starts, bringing Nate up again. He can feel his face beginning to heat up as he asks you about it. 

“Yeah.”

“Biggest jackoff in New York City.”

“Well, apparently he’s LA’s problem now.”

“Fucko,” Carmy says, shaking his head at the memory of his pain in the ass sous. He can’t figure out why seeing Nate talk to you near-sent him into a blind rage, but you’d reassured him that you were good so, he let you hold your own. 

“Seems like he had a lot to say to you.”

“Yeah, lucky me,” you reply dryly. 

“After that I think I need a shower. Or a bath of bleach.”

Carmy lets out a small laugh, releasing some of the tension he, unknowingly, was holding in his body. 

“Listen, I don’t want to talk about Nate,” you say, changing the subject. 

It’s not that you feel weird about it – that you’d feel weird telling Carmy about what happened between the two of you – but it just feels so small and insignificant in the face of the love that you have with Carmy. 

“Good, me either,” Carmy exhales. 

Another release in pressure. 

He wonders if he’d been this tense all night, or if seeing you with Nate had managed to piss him off this much. 

“You wanna dance?” you ask him, a mischievous smile on his face. You offer a hand out to him. 

“Baby, you know I don’t dance,” he states, matter of factly. 

“I know. But I do,” you say, with a wiggle of your eyebrows. 

“One dance,” he warns, earning a triumphant smile from you.

He takes your hand, prompting you to put your drink down on the table where you’re all posted up at. Carmy shakes his head, surprised that you’ve coaxed him this far out of his comfort zone. As he pulls you into his arms, you giggle, wrapping yours around his neck and sway to the loud music in the background. 

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” he asks you with such genuine love in those beautiful blue eyes of his. 

He thinks you look like a goddess – could be the dress, but he’s pretty sure it’s you. Your hair is shorter now than it was a few months ago and lays in the softest, most gentle waves, parted perfectly down the middle. He hasn’t stopped staring at cherry red-painted lips all night, and every time he gets a peek of your legs through the high slit in the dress you’re wearing, he swears he short circuits. 

Not to mention the low neckline. He’d watched you tie the top of the dress into a plunging neckline, and had to hold back his ask for you to cover up. It’s not that he cared about what you wore. But if he hadn’t been going to therapy over the last few months, he might feel some kind of way about anyone else getting to see any part of your breasts – anyone but him. 

“A couple of times… but I won’t be mad about hearing it a few more, Bear,” you grin, leaning into him. 

He smiles at your use of his childhood nickname. Back in New York, he’d kept it from you. It was just a reminder of what he’d left behind: his psycho mom, a nightmare of pain from his psycho-fucked-up family, how much it hurt when Mikey cut him out. But now, he loves the way it sounds coming from your lips, your voice the sweetest thing he’s ever heard. While he knows it’s taken him a long time to let you in, he’s glad he has. Whether it be at the restaurant or at the home you share together, you’ve become one of the most consistent things in his life. 

The rest of the night is almost perfect. It’s filled with dancing, catching up with coworkers and friends in the culinary world, and most importantly, a celebration with your chosen family. That is, until you hear Sydney swear halfway across the room, catching the attention of you and Carmy both. 

Carmy’s looking past you to where Nate is towering over Sydney at the bar. If looks could kill, he’s pretty sure Nate would be dead by now. 

“Is that Nate again?” Carmy asks, his face pink as he feels a rush of blood flow throw him. 

You can see that Sydney is practically in the same place you were an hour ago. You watch as he steps in front of her, practically blocking her in between him and the bar. 

“I don’t like this. We should go over there,” you say with a sense of urgency. 

Carmy agrees, and Richie and Marcus, who you’re currently conversing with, follow close behind. 

“Okay. You need,” Sydney warns, her voice deliberate, like a rattlesnake giving one last warning before it strikes. “... to back… the fuck up.” 

His response is even worse, causing a fire to burn in your belly as you overhear what he says to Sydney. 

“Oh come on,” he coos, forcing himself closer to her. “I’m just trying to have a little fun.”

Sydney takes another step to the side, trying her best to escape him and holding her hands up as a barrier while you charge at him. Your sudden movement attracts his attention, giving Sydney the out that she needs. You put both of your hands on his chest, shoving him away from her as you shout. 

“She said ‘no.’ What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Nate’s got such a smug, satisfied smirk on his face that, if you weren’t in a room filled with the best chefs in the world, you’d actually punch it right off of him. Carmy follows you, protectively standing behind you. 

“Jealous?” he asks, amused. His eyes flicker over to Carmy, whose face is beginning to heat up, turning a brighter shade of red by the moment.  

“In your dreams, asshat,” you spit back. 

“Yeah, you’re right about that,” he says, completely satisfied as Carmy’s fist clenches. He’s clearly enjoying just how much he’s getting under his old boss’ skin. 

You feel Carmy step towards him, but you turn to him, placing a hand on his abdomen to stop him, “Bear, it’s not worth it.”

“Did you tell him?” Nate asks you, with the intention of stirring the pot. 

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter, shaking your head in absolute disbelief. 

“Tell me what?” Carmy asks you softly. 

“How does it feel, golden boy? To know that the one thing you always wanted… I got to first,” Nate sneers, a threatening sound in his voice. He looks from you to Carmy, assessing the damage. 

Before Carmy can say anything, it’s you who lurches towards NAte, and Carmy’s wrapping his arms around you to hold you back. You can feel the tension in his arms as he holds you against his chest protectively. 

“Okay this motherfucker is just asking for it,” Richie seethes, charging towards Nate. 

“Richie, don’t!” Sydney shouts, shooting him a ‘please don’t make a scene’ look. 

It takes all of Richie’s self control to stop himself. He nods to her, holding up his hands as a surrender. He begins to take a few steps back as your uncomfortably public standoff continues. 

Sydney has retreated back so that she stands side by side with Marcus, while Carmy’s loosened his grip on your waist. 

By the look on Nate’s face, you can tell he thinks he’s gotten away with it all, as he looks around at all of you one last time. 

“You all have a goodnight,” he smirks, before taking his drink and slithering away. 

You could care less where to. You’re just glad he’s gone. 

You watch as he goes before checking in with Sydney, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she says, shaking her head. Marcus is by her side in an instant and you can see Carmy’s jaw twitching with anger. “Can’t believe you used to work with that guy. Fuck that guy.”

“Yeah, fuck that guy,” Richie agrees under his breath. 

“C’mon. Let’s just…” Marcus encourages quietly, nodding to your table. 

Richie, Marcus, and Sydney all make their way back to your group as you stay with Carmy. His face is red and you can see it on his face that he’s still processing what just happened – what Nate said. You can see the gears turning in his head, and he’s staring at the floor, his face still cherry tomato-red.

“Carmy,” you say, ripping him from his thoughts. 

He looks up at you, his face softening the minute you make eye contact. 

“Can we go somewhere? Talk?” he asks, trying not to look like he’s going to burn the fuckin’ place down. 

You agree with a nod, taking his hand and leading him elsewhere. 

The further away from the reception you go, the quieter the party gets, and the louder your thoughts get. Would he be mad? You were furious with Nate for trying to use what happened to get under Carmy’s skin, but you also wonder if he’s mad at you too. For sleeping with Nate? For not telling him? But was it something you were supposed to tell him? It’s not like you expected him to tell you about every person he’d ever slept with. 

Carmy finally stops, leading you into a quieter room, far away from the party. As you flick the lights on, it looks like a single dressing room for the plays performed here. The silence between the two of you is deafening, and it’s not just because it’s the first quiet moment you’ve had together since you arrived. 

“I’m not mad… about Nate… about what he said,” Carmy says, breaking the silence between the two of you. 

He’s trying his best to sound convincing, reassuring even, but he’s sure he’s doing a shit job. 

You’re surprised, so you just take him in, searching his face for any clue that he’s telling that truth. His face is red, and you can see a tightness running across his chest as he’s looking for the courage to ask:

“But why didn’t you tell me?” 

You sigh, unsure of what to say. 

“Because…” you begin, hoping that if you just start talking, you’ll find the right words to explain. “I-, I didn’t think I had to. It happened once and it was a stupid mistake with… a lot of tequila involved.”

“You had just left New York and I was lonely. I didn’t say anything because… it didn’t mean anything to me, Bear.”

He listens, taking your explanation in, his eyes fixed on the floor again. He’s not mad at you, but he can’t seem to shake this feeling of anger – this tension that has him wanting to punch a hole through the wall. 

“I don’t like what he fuckin’ said to you,” he finally blurts out. 

“That- that he thinks he can just say whatever the fuck he wants. That he forced himself on Syd like that, like he can-.”

Carmy looks down at the floor again, his words trailing off. 

He’s pissed. 

You can tell he’s pissed. 

But you have a nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach that says something else is going on. 

Is Carmy… jealous?

“Carmy, I’m sorry you had to find out like this,” you apologize softly. “He shouldn’t have-, I mean he really is the worst fucking person to ever walk-.”

“I’m not upset about-,” he interrupts, firmly. He holds your gaze, trying to give you the most reassuring look he can. “I don’t care about-. I just… I don’t like the way he talked to you.”

You wait as he stews on his thoughts, his anger simmering as he sorts through his feelings. It’s like watching a hot pot of water come to a boil. 

“I didn’t like seeing him touch you earlier like-.”

Let it rip.

“Like he can just put his hands on anyone he-. On you! I–.”

And then finally he explodes with, “I just fuckin’ hate that guy!”

It’s as if the pressure valve has been released as he lets out a big puff of air. While you can see it’s given him some relief, you’re still not sure what you’re supposed to offer at this moment. 

“Carmy, what can I- hmmph?” you begin to ask, before being cut off by his lips on yours. 

Well this isn���t what you were expecting.

Your head is spinning as your boyfriend kisses you with such passion, fervor, and urgency. He’s crashing his lips against yours at a desperate pace, and it’s all tongues and teeth and his hands are grabbing the back of your head, tangling into your hair. You’re not sure how you’ve gone from trying your best to hold space for your boyfriend’s feelings, to him pressing you up against the dressing room counter.

You gasp as he hoists you up onto the counter, pushing his body into yours. 

“Carmy, are you-?” you ask, feeling the tent that’s already formed in his pants as you wrap your legs around him. 

There’s a confident assertiveness he moves with, and as much as you hate to admit it, this is all turning you on.

“Hate that fuckin’ guy,” Carmy murmurs into your skin, as he begins to leave kisses down your jawline. 

His mouth moves urgently down your neck, to your shoulders, to the exposed skin the plunging neckline of your dress reveals. His teeth leave light pink and purple marks in their wake, and you’re gasping, moaning, grabbing at any part of him you can hold on to. Little love bites begin to appear, but when he’s making you feel this good, you could care less. 

He’s confident in the way he sucks little marks into your skin, biting down then immediately soothing the pain with his tongue. As he works his mouth over you, he looks up at you, his eyes wide, pupils blown out in pure desire, and it takes your fucking breath away. 

Pain and pleasure.

Just to show the whole world that you’re his. 

 “Thinks he can fuckin’ look at you. Put his fuckin’ hands on you,” he mumbles against your skin. His mouth has reached the lowest point of your plunging neckline as he stands up, pushing himself against you between your legs. 

“Baby,” you breathe out. You make a mental note to unpack why his sudden possessiveness has you so hot and bothered with your therapist next week. 

“I really, really don’t want to talk about him right now.”

Carmy drops to his knees, stripping off his suit jacket and throwing it elsewhere. The sight has you absolutely drenched and you think you may cum just from looking at him. 

“You’re mine,” is all he says, eliciting another moan from you as he sinks his teeth into the soft supple skin of your calf. You slide a heel-covered foot over his shoulder, as his lips begin trail up your calf, to your knee, to your inner thighs…

“Yes. I’m yours,” you breathe out, exasperated by Carmy’s sudden forwardness. You lean back, your head hitting the mirror with a thud. “All yours.”

He works his way up your thighs, leaving soft kisses on your inner thighs while his hands disappear underneath the skirt of your dress, frantically searching for your panties. 

“Carmy, I don’t know if we have time for-,” you gasp, as he pulls away for a moment. 

His curls are unruly from running your fingers through them, his lips swollen from the passionate makeout you started only moments ago. You feel his fingers hook underneath the top of your panties and he looks at you like he can see right through you. Holding your gaze, it’s impossible to not get lost into his ocean blue eyes you’ve fallen so deeply in love with. He takes his sweet time, teasing you, refusing to break eye contact, as he pulls your panties down your legs at an unbearable slow pace. 

You don’t look away. 

You don’t dare look away. 

Finally, finally, he breaks eye contact, sliding your panties over your feet, and putting them into his pocket as you brace yourself for what comes next. 

“We should-,” you start, your words ceasing instantly as he spreads your legs, licking a stripe up your dripping wet core. You cry out loudly, panicking almost instantly, because you don’t remember locking the damn door. 

We should stop. 

Do this elsewhere. 

Lock the door. 

Keep quiet. 

But you can’t seem to get the words out, as you let out another loud moan, and Carmy doesn’t have the heart to stop you. Something primal inside of him wants nothing more than for the whole party mere hallways away to hear you crying out his name. 

“Fuck, baby,” he murmurs, dragging his tongue through your folds. “Already so wet for me and I’ve barely even put my mouth on you.”

He wonders if there’s an award for this. 

Lifetime Loser Award.

2023’s Most Jealous Boyfriend

Chef Most Likely to Fuck His Girlfriend During the James Beard Reception Because He’s a Sad, Jealous Fuck.

“Carmy, please,” you beg, scooting your hips off the counter and pulling him up from the ground. Your demand rips him from his own self deprecating thoughts. 

“I need you inside of me. Now.” 

You need him.

“Turn around,” is all he says. 

He’s not sure where he gets the confidence for such a demand and it has you clenching around nothing. 

You’re more than happy to oblige as you whisper out a ‘yes,’ and turn yourself around to face the mirror. You can hear the sound of him unzipping his pants, then he’s hiking up the skirt of your dress once more. He puts his hands on your hips to steady you – maybe even to steady himself – and you can feel the head of his cock running through your folds. 

Just when you think you may die if you don’t get what you want, you let out the loudest cry you think has ever come out of your mouth as he pushes inside of you. You gasp, your fingers gripping the edge of the counter as you feel him shudder against your back. Your head hangs low, just focusing on memorizing how every single inch of him feels inside of you.

Carmy’s thrusts are slow at first, deep and deliberate thrusts burying himself all the way to the hilt. The sight of his cock disappearing inside of you is really testing his patience here as he thinks he may go insane. 

Back out. 

Then back in. 

“You’re so fuckin’ wet. So fuckin’ perfect for me. God, I love being inside of you,” he groans, enjoying his last few slow and deep thrusts. 

He’s got one hand on your hips and the other, wrapped around your waist. As he begins to speed up the pace of his thrusts, the hand around your waist goes to the counter too, to brace himself. 

“Carmen,” you moan his name, as he starts to go faster. “Yes. Perfect for you. Only you.”

Only you. 

Your words cause him to smirk, and the sounds you’re making only encourage him to keep fucking into you like he means it. 

“Look at yourself, baby,” he says, his words causing you to squeeze around him. He groans, his eyes rolling back, before he returns his gaze to the mirror. 

When you lock eyes, it’s like you’ve been set on fire. Your skin feels hot, and the prolonged eye contact has you squeezing around him as you start to grind against him. You feel lightheaded, breathless, purely at his mercy. 

Carmy holds your gaze through the mirror and you want to commit this photo to memory. You watch your reflections in the mirror, seeing your face change as he speeds up again. His hands are everywhere: in your hair, grabbing you breasts, tracing over the little marks he’s left all over your chest.

 “This how I make you feel? Tell me. Tell me how good I make you feel,” he asks, and you think this is the most vocal he’s been during sex.

“So good, Car,” you’re panting. He grabs a handful of your hair, guiding your head to the side so that he can kiss you. You manage to continue your praise in between wet, sloppy, and desperate kisses, and desperate thrusts between the both of you.

“So fuckin’ good. So high. Like I’ll never come back down.”

He’s satisfied with your answer, feeling more and more confident with each thrust. You can tell he likes it, so you decided, why the hell not?

“You feel incredible inside of me, baby,” you continue, wanting nothing more than to appease him. 

He’s swallowing your moans in his mouth, as he continues to fuck you, your pushing your ass back against him, your hands bracing against the mirror. You see stars as he hits that spot inside of you – the one that makes you let out a sob – and he’s bending you over the counter so that he can find that spot again and again. Carmy presses his forehead against your shoulder as his hands move underneath your skirt once again, rubbing fierce circles around your clit, trying to take you there with him. He knows he won’t last long when you’re moaning his name like that. He looks up for a moment, enjoying the reflection in the mirror a little too much, before sinking his teeth into your shoulder, feeling himself get closer… closer…

You can feel he’s close too, so you say something, something you know will bring him over the edge. 

“Want you to cum inside of me.”

“That what you want? Want me to fill you up? Have me dripping down your legs when any other fucko tries to talk to you tonight. Tries to even fuckin’ look at you…” he asks, his breath ragged and sentences becoming increasingly choppy. 

He's leaving little kisses and bite marks all over your upper back as he continues to fuck you.

“Yes,” you pant, moaning his full name once again. 

“Fffffffuck, baby. That’s so hot,” he stutters, his thrusts becoming more erratic. He grabs a handful of your ass, chasing his high with you. 

You’re squeezing your eyes shut so hard you see stars when he finds that spot again, and you remember that he wanted you to watch. You blink open your eyes, breathless as you take in the image of your boyfriend fucking you from behind. He’s got his forehead resting on your shoulder. You feel the delicious contradiction of pain and pleasure once again, as he sinks his teeth into the soft skin of your shoulder, in the same place from before.

So close. And you're already so tender.

“Carmen. Yes. Right there. Please, baby. Fuck. Don’t stop,” you’re crying out as you as your walls clamp down around him. It’s like an explosion erupts inside of you and you feel that you perhaps are on another fuckin’ plane of existence from the way he makes you feel. 

Your eyes close again as he fucks you through your orgasm, taking you higher and higher. The way your walls are squeezing around him have him on edge and he gives you one, two, and then a third thrust before painting your walls with his release too.

He stops, resting his head on your back again, still buried all the way inside of you.

Both of your heavy pants fill the room, before you interrupt the status quo with a laugh. 

“Holy shit, babe,” you finally say, exasperated and completely fucked out.

He pulls out of you, and you have to put a hand down on the counter he just bent you over, for balance as you stand up straight. You can hear Carmen pulling his pants back up and you’re adjusting your dress as you turn to look at him. His eyes are fixed on the button of his trouser pants, as you grab his face for another long, lust-filled kiss. 

“What do you say… to getting out of here? Maybe continuing this at home?” you propose, your voice hoarse from what you’ve just done. Your forehead is still pressed to his and you want nothing more for him to say ‘yes.’ 

“Fuck yes. Please,” he practically groans, wondering how it’s possible for him to be hard again already. 

“I’ll order a car,” you agree, reaching for where you left your phone on the dressing room counter. 

“Surge rates, babe” he sighs, the disappointment evident in his voice as he issues the little reminder.

You shoot him a look that says ‘you’ve got to be fucking kidding me?’

“I will pay all the surge rates in the world, if I get to have you again, as soon as possible,” you state, and he’s not sure he’s going to be able to wait till you get home.

You glance back down to your phone, your fingers moving quickly through the right buttons to get a car on the way. As soon as you see the confirmation, your swiping out of the app, and over to an unread message:

Sydney: So that was weird. Where did you guys go?

You: Out for some air. Sorry, we’ll be right back in. 

Sydney: Angel wants pizza and a few of us are gonna go. Wanna come with?

You: Think we’re gonna head home. Breakfast tomorrow? My treat. 

Sydney: 100%

You: Congratulations again, friend. Love you. 

“What’s going on?” Carmy asks, as he sees you fiercely texting away. 

“Nothin’,” you answer, seeing the Uber notification popping up on your phone. “Just telling everyone we’re gonna head home.”

You turn your back to the mirror to examine the damage, immediately spotting Carmy’s bite mark on your shoulder. 

“Carmen,” you sigh, fingertips running over the huge bite mark on your shoulder – the one he left when he made while cumming inside of you.

Carmy takes a look, a small smirk on his lips as he sees what you’re referring to. He has to admit that he’s almost… proud of himself as he leans over, leaving a soft kiss against one of the rapidly forming purple bite marks left on the back of your shoulder. 

As much as he’d like to show the entire culinary world that you’re his, he removes the suit jacket he just put back on, and hands it to you. 

“Here. You can wear this.”

You giggle, taking it and appreciating Carmen’s act of chivalry. 

“As much as I’d love to do a walk of shame through a room full of the world’s best chefs… think I’ll keep this one between me and the one that just fucked me,” you joke playfully, as you kiss him as a ‘thank you.’

You check your reflection in the mirror as you drape the coat strategically over your shoulders, making sure you both look somewhat presentable enough to flee the scene with dignity. 

“Carm?” you ask. 

“Before we leave. I just-, I want you to-,” you stammer, uncertain if you’re doing the right thing by telling him. You’d hate to play into Nate’s little game – even if you both won after what just happened. 

“Hmm?”

“Just… you know… for the sake of factual accuracy and not that we’re playing Nate’s game at all but... you and I hooked up first. Nate just doesn’t know that.”

He nods in response, trying not to make it seem like a big deal. 

But it certainly makes him feel better.

“Well, if we’re being factually accurate…” he offers up in response. “I know you always thought our whole rivalry thing was one sided… but it wasn’t.”

“No?”

“Rode that guy as hard as I could, every chance I got,” he confesses, in reference to your old, very toxic work environment. 

“Because he deserved it?” 

“Because I hated how much he flirted with you.”

You shake your head with a small smile. Your phone is buzzing in your hand, letting you know that your Uber has arrived. 

“Let’s get the fuck out of here, Bear.”

[coldbronzemoon]

Danny Fenton, Totally Mortal Hero Consultant (DPxDC)

Snippet for an AU I'll probably never fully write where Danny takes a job as a consultant for the Justice League to help with ghost and demon bullshit. It's a pretty good cash flow to help him with college, after all, and very flexible hours.

He just claims all his knowledge comes from his parents. Unfortunately, the JL has caught word of the elusive yet active hero Phantom, and want Danny to help them meet and assess him. Whoops.

Over the phone, Tucker sighed. “Good Christ, Danny, why do you keep doing this?”

“I’m not doing anything,” Danny said immediately. He winced at the vague sound of screaming below. Demons sucked. “I didn’t know the JL thing was gonna have me finding Phantom. How would I? They were talking about tracking down powerful ghosts, I was assuming Ancients!”

Tucker sighed again, which was really quite unfair of him. “Mhm. Well, Fenton Catcher?”

“Probably not. They know me pretty well at this point, and unlike what Sam says I can be professional. I’d confuse them with the… uh…”

“Stoner shtick?”

There was more screaming happening, but judging from the pitch it was a demon screaming this time. Danny checked the situation. Yep, demon getting their ass kicked. He didn’t need to get involved with a blaster. Yet.

Instead, he scowled at his phone. “Stop calling it that.”

“You’re gonna tell me flanny Danny wasn’t a pitch-perfect stoner, huh? With the chill vibing and the dopey look?”

“I hate you.”

“Love you too, bud.” 

The sound of a clacking keyboard that had underlined their conversation stopped. “But seriously, Danny, what the hell are you gonna do with this?”

“Uh, lie, probably,” Danny said, because it was very likely.

“Alright, smartass, what are you going to do when that lie backfires on you like literally every other one does?”

“That’s when I start gaslighting, gatekeeping, and girlbossing, babe.”

He had a hard time hearing Tucker’s distant groan of “Why am I still your friend?” on account of the sudden explosion. Danny checked again. Hm. Demon dude had a nasty fire thing going on.

Danny switched on his Fenton water gun—holy water included!-- and shot the demon in the face. They let out a cracking hiss of rage, but dropped the fire spell thing. He waited for them to stop looking around wildly for the culprit for a moment. 

He went back to the call. “‘Cause you loooove me, Tuck. From the bottom of your twice-dead heart.”

“Unfortunately,” Tucker deadpanned.

Danny just cackled. It was lost amongst the sound of supernatural bullshit below.

“Anyway, I’m still figuring out my plan A, honestly. Might bring in gray-man?”

“Amorpho’s an asshole, though. He’ll ruin the whole thing by taking the opportunity to shift into a JL member for a bit.”

Hm. True.

“Yeah, but he’s the main guy I know with that power set.”

“Ask after Desiree?” He could hear the immediate distaste in Tucker’s voice. “Ugh, pretend I didn’t say that. That’s worse than Amorpho.”

“It’s awful,” Danny agreed easily. 

Desiree was actually pretty alright nowadays, mostly on account of Danny remembering the last couple minutes of Aladdin and wishing she could refuse wishes she didn’t want to grant. That had made her happy enough to stop actively picking fights. 

Unfortunately, spending the entirety of one’s afterlife twisting the wording of wishes to their worst form made it hard to stop being an asshole. Who knew! So getting Desiree to split him in two for like a week had a 50/50 chance of fucking up his work relationship with the literal league of superheroes irrevocably. And this was his main cash flow right now.

So, no Desiree, no siree.

“Come up with something better then, asshole.”

Danny hummed and, since the heroes below were focused on the demon, lifted up a little and did a thoughtful back flip. What to do, what to do…?

Oh!

“My cousin!” he exclaimed.

“What cous—? Oh, Ellie.”

“Yeah, Ellie, Tuck. Which other cousins do I have?”

Tucker scoffed. “You literally have that whole Nightingale thing going on through your dad?”

Danny couldn’t help the face he made. The remaining Nightingales were worse than his parents somehow. “The Nightingales don’t count.”

“You can’t just say they don’t count.”

“I can say that, actually, and I will. They’re, like, cousins through my great-great-great-grandpa anyway.”

“Isn’t there a fight going on over there? Should you be shooting someone?”

 “Yeah, probably.”

He peaked down through the window once more. The heroes must have gotten the first demon to leave while he was talking, because the horned demon fighting them now was a truly unfortunate shade of yellow-green instead of purple. Or maybe it had transformed for some reason? They had it about as in-hand as the other one, though, so Danny definitely didn’t need to go down there. He shot the maybe-new demon in the face real quick.

“Anyway, Ellie can totally help out, she’s been practicing with changing up her looks. She’s also more, uh, malleable than me, what with her situation and all. Looking fully like Phantom shouldn’t be hard.”

Tucker hummed. “She’d try to embarrass you though.”

“Yeah, that’s a problem.” Danny spun in place. “I could bribe her?”

“With what? Her life doesn’t involve needing much cash.”

“She doesn’t get out to the Zone very much. Not many of the inhabited places, anyway. I can promise her the weird apple things Dora’s been growing with Sam’s help, she loved those.”

“If you think that’ll work…” Tucker trailed off dubiously.

Danny laughed. “She’s annoying sometimes, but she’s not gonna fuck over my job if I ask her not to. I’ll just bribe her extra hard for resisting the temptation to mock me.”

“Fair enough.” The clacking of keys resumed. “I’ve really gotta pay attention now, someone’s trying to stop me from getting into this database. Someone half-decent, actually, did they upgrade? Hm. Make sure no one died, yeah?”

“They’re alive. Bye, Tuck,” Danny said, and ended the call.

He shoved his phone back into his jacket pocket and made his way down the stairs. The fight outside he had been stationed for was basically over—Captain Marvel and Green Lantern (Danny was pretty sure he had accidentally learned the dude’s actual name at some point, but hell if he could remember)—had pulled out the magic restraints one of the other consultants had handed out.

That had probably been Constantine. Ugh. Constantine. Dude could stand to lighten up a little; skulking and smoking all the time wasn’t the base state of someone enjoyable to be around. Then again, Danny knew he annoyed the shit out of some of the league with his own attitude, so he maybe shouldn’t talk. But at least he was annoying with a smile!

Case in point: Danny grinned at the heroes. “Got it handled?”

“Suppose so,” said the Green Lantern, “though a little more help would have been nice.”

Captain Marvel was too busy getting in a minor tussle with the demon to say anything either way.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m like, pretty mortal,” Danny said. “I’m not fucking with demons right where they can hit me. And I did shoot him!”

Green Lantern rolled his eyes, but admitted the point. Danny cheerfully flipped him off anyway.

“I’ll be heading out, then, the hellmouth this guy crawled out of is like three miles away.” Captain Marvel said, hauling the handcuffed demon over his shoulders like a very angry backpack.

“Oh, one more for the road!” 

Danny hit the demon with a final water gun shot. Hissing and scrunching their face like a cat, the demon tried to lunge at him. It wasn’t very successful. Weirdly non-verbal for a demon, who usually had to talk to make deals and steal mortal souls, but Danny wouldn’t judge. Might be a minor demon. A really basic imp? Who knew.

“Stop being a little bitch and you won’t get spray-bottled, asshole,” Danny chided.

With a loud laugh, Captain Marvel sped away.

[luciopioid]

No Looking Back

minnie x f!reader . 2,572K words

tags: older minnie/age gap. alcohol. use of “girl” and other feminine terms. vaginal fingering.

synopsis: minnie is a regular at your cafe job. after one particularly hard day, she runs into you and helps you out in more ways than one.

Minnie hands you a glass of wine before she sits down beside you on her couch– albeit probably too close, but the smell of her perfume and her radiating body heat next to you makes any doubt disappear immediately.

“So how long have you been there?” She asks, ruffling a hand through her hair. You shoot her a look. “The cafe, I mean.” She chuckles.

“Oh! About a year now. My last job wasn’t getting me by, but the pay here is a little better and the tips are good. I’m thinking about quitting though because last we–” You catch yourself.

“Sorry. I ramble when I’m nervous. But a year. I’ve been there a year.” You chuckle awkwardly, catching minnie’s gaze as she looks at you with a warm smile.

“Why are you nervous, baby?”

You feel your face go hot and it takes every fiber within you not to start giggling like an idiot.

You don’t really remember how you got here exactly, but you do remember crying profusely and running into one of your regulars at your job.

_

It was raining and you had just worked a shift from hell. Customers yelling in your face, whipped cream and green tea spilled over your pants and shoes– the whole nine yards. You practically run out of the cafe on your way to your car. You huddle to yourself, as if it will make the rain avoid you specifically given you forgot your umbrella. You sit down in your passenger seat momentarily, and for the first time in six hours, you breathe. Ready to go home and shower and probably cry, you start your car. Or try to at least. You turn the key again. And again. And again, but to no avail it doesn’t start. At all.

You feel tears stinging at your eyes, but you blink them away and decide to get out and pop the hood. You don’t know what you’re looking at. You just want to go home. Your hair is wet and your clothes are cold and damp.

At some point in between clocking out and having a breakdown in the rain, you ran into Minnie, a regular customer at your job that comes in every other day.

Shit.

You didn’t know what bothered you more: being in this vulnerable position for anyone to walk by and wonder if you were crazy or really down on your luck or having the woman you’ve had a crush on for literal months walking by and wonder if you were crazy or just really down on your luck. You prayed it was the ladder.

“Are you okay?” She asks after she gets out of her car, jogging towards you. “Do you need a jump?”

She’s in high waisted jeans and a blouse. Unlike yours, her hair and clothes dry. “Here,” Minnie says, passing you her umbrella as she goes to open your hood. It’s useless now, but a kind gesture nonetheless.

“I don’t know if it’ll work,” You whisper, “With the rain and all.”

“Are you locked out your car?” She asks, concerningly.

“No.” You say calmly.

“So why didn’t yo–” She pauses and laughs softly, understanding you’re in a particularly vulnerable state.

“Look,” Minnie pauses. “I live right there. Why don’t I take you to my place really quick so you can dry off and when the rain stops, I’ll come give you a jump, hmm?” She says with that same familiar smile that made you weak in the knees when you see it.

As charming as she is, you didn’t want to be pitied, even if you were quite literally having a breakdown outside of your job.

“I don’t know, It’s–”

“Come on!” She says pulling you to her car by your arm. Not letting you finish your potential objection.

-

“Thinking about what’s gonna happen to my car if it’s broken. Thinking about how I’m in a stranger’s huge fucking apartment as I wear her clothes. You know… the usual.” You joke and Minnie gives you that same warm smile as she chuckles. You finish the rest of your wine in one sip. Minnie gives you a concerning look before doing the same just for the hell of it.

“I feel like I only had a shitty shift because I didn’t see you today.” You say, entirely too late to take back.

Before you can try to awkwardly change the subject, “I can’t tell if you’re blaming me for your shitty day or if you missed me.” She says jokingly and you immediately feel a relief fall over you.

“What? Of course not!”

“Of course you didn’t miss me? Wow… Here I thought I was a favorite of yours.” Minnie says fake dramatically and for the first time all day, you feel a real genuine smile creep on your face.

“I’ve always wanted to ask, is Minnie short for something?” You inquire, your nerves slowly zipping away from the glass of wine.

Her eyes light, “No, actually.” She says matter of fact-ly. “It’s just a nickname. My real names Nicha.”

“Nicha,” you repeat to yourself, “That’s pretty. It’s fitting.”

You regret meeting her eyes because the look she’s giving you makes you want to dart your eyes in the opposite direction, but in fear of looking like a pussy in front of the most attractive woman you’ve ever seen, you hold it.

Minnie is looking at you, eyes low and smiling. “You’re so pretty, you know that? Not used to seeing you outside of your work.”

You feel your stomach tingle and your face heat up again. “Yeah?” You say, deciding to play this little game with her back.

“Yeah. You look even better in my clothes too.” She adds.

In the back of your mind, you knew this was crazy. Going to the home of a woman you barely know, letting her wash your clothes and putting you in her’s. Letting her offer you alchohol—at worse— drinking it.

“Was this your plan?” You ask, voice low and sultry. “Get some drinks in me. Try to jump my bones?”

Minnie scoots closer to you, “What? Of course not!” She says, mocking you from a few moments ago. “And don’t say it like that. Making me sound like a creep.” She jokes and shows you that smile you can’t seem to get enough of right now.

Minnie gently takes your hand and opens it. “D’you want me to stop, baby?”

Fuck.

“No.”

“Good.” She brings your hand to her mouth and presses a light kiss to your palm. You look at her with desperate eyes.

“You’ve had such a hard day,” Minnie coos, face inching towards you. “Can I make you feel better?” She whispers into your ear, as if there was anyone else around. You nod, saying yes to whatever that entails.

She kisses the sensitive skin where your ear meets your neck and you let out a soft gasp. You couldn’t believe this. You gently move her face in front of yours, holding her by her chin with your fingers. She bites her bottom lip mindlessly as she looks at yours. Minnie’s eyes flicker up to yours. “Can I kiss you?” She whispers, and you waste no time closing the gap between the two of you. Her lips press against yours firmly before she opens her mouth to take in your lower lip. She sucks at your lips slowly as you moan in between kisses. She tastes sweet like expensive wine and her lips are just as soft as you imagined.

Minnie’s hands find your hips and she grips them, tugging you closer. She pops her mouth off of yours and latches onto your neck. She gathers a part of skin between her teeth before biting down, you gasp unexpectedly before she soothes it with her velvet wet tongue and plump lips.

You’re dizzy. This is all too much. It’s too much, but you can’t help but want more.

She nips and sucks at various spots of your neck, ones that you are sure will leave marks, but you can’t find it in you to care. She comes off of your neck to meet your eyes, her nose touching yours. Minnie tugs at the bottom of the shirt of hers that you had on. She looks at you for permission and as soon as you give her a nod, she begins to bunch up the shirt at your collarbone, leaving your chest bare and exposed. Minnie places her hand on the small of your back before laying you down on her couch as she settles between your legs.

Mindlessly, your hands go to cover your breasts. That is until Minnie goes to lean down towards your ear. “Don’t hide from me. You’re so beautiful.” She says kissing at your neck again. “Wanna see you,” Her hands gently cover yours and move them away, “All of you.” Still holding your hands at your sides, she wraps her mouth around your nipple and you involuntarily whimper at the warm, slick contact. She twirls her tongue around it repeatedly, each time trying to earn another one of the beautiful sounds you make. She lets go of one of your hands, but you keep it there. In obedience. She uses her now free hand to pinch at your unoccupied bud, making you yelp and clench your fist. She switches to the newly pinched nipple and sucks as she kneads your opposite boob with her other hand, now leaving you with two free hands.

You use this as an opportunity to cup the back of her head with your hands as she sucks on your breasts repeatedly. Your hips buck into her involuntarily, wanting more of whatever was going on. You moan out into the open space again before asking, “More.”

It was all you could manage to say right now. Minnie pops off of your nipple and looks up from you at this position, “More what, pretty girl?” You groan at her and move your hips against her body, desperate for any sort of friction.

“I want you.” You say, low, for her ears only.

“Yeah?” She teases you as she creeps one hand up from your chest to your lips. She cups your face, her thumb grazing over your bottom lip. Without her even asking, you open your mouth, allowing her to slip her thumb in with ease. You wrapped your tongue around the lone digit, watching her eye your mouth in adoration.

She slips her thumb from your lips and slowly replaces them with her middle fingers and like before, you obey and suck. You allow her to push them back into your mouth, you coat her long digits in your saliva as you moan around them. “Look at you. Such a good girl.” Minnie muttered. “A good girl just for me.” She grins. Her praise was making your head spin.

Minnie pulls her fingers out of your mouth and lays against you,holding herself up on the forearm surrounding your head. She slips a hand into the front of the shorts she gave you. Your underwear was in the wash along with the rest of your clothes, you’ve never been more grateful, for the sole fact that her slick wet fingers immediately met your clit, making you gasp softly.

“Please.” You beg. Now feeling extremely desperate to feel her inside of you. She kisses your cheek and shushes you. “Shhh. Patience, love.” She whispers. Her fingers circle your clit once more before teasing at your entrance. “Fuck, you’re so wet for me.” She teases.

Her mouth finds yours as she kisses you, slow and languid. It’s at this point too that she decides to push her fingers into you, making you groan into her mouth at the feeling. Minnie starts off slow, her fingers pumping in and out of you at an excruciating pace for you. You whined at the sensation. “Please— Go faster.” You whimpered against her mouth.

“I’ve always wanted to have you like this. Always wanted to fuck you.” She says, almost as a confession. If you weren’t physically at a loss for words, you’d tell her the same. You’d tell her about how you always eyed her long fingers and strong hands as you took her order. About how good you thought her plump lips and nose would look under you as you rode her face. If only she knew.

She fucks her fingers into you more firmly now, at a new pace that makes you moan with every pump. A pace that makes you grip at her arm, your nails digging into her flesh. “F-fuck Minnie. Please.” She bites at your neck once more. The multiple stimulations making you mewl like a fucking kitten.

She comes up from the crook of your neck to admire your face. Your face flushed with a glowy sheen— she’d swear she’s never seen a more beautiful sight. You continue to babble nonsense and whine as she fucks into you, you feel a knot forming in your stomach as you’re being inched closer to release.

“Say my name.” She says softly, almost sounding desperate, but still demanding.

You moan and attempt to do as she says, “Mi—.”

“Nu uh,” She interrupts you, grinning, “My real name.”

As soon as she said that, she began to speed up, her fingers hitting a spot that you felt were sure to make you cum around them soon. Barely able to speak, “N-Nicha…” You whimpered. You feel her smile against your bare skin. Your hips begin to buck against her hand. She sucks on your neck, her face finding that same spot that earns the familiar noises from you. “Close, Nicha…close.” You mutter out between moans. You knew you weren’t going to be able to last long.

The movements of Minnie’s fingers in your pussy we’re becoming sloppier as you clenched around her. “There you go,” she coos, “Come for me, pretty girl.” And with one last praise, your walls tighten around her fingers and your hips grind against her, hard and desperate. You let out a string of curses and whimpers followed by her name as she kissed you all over. “Want you to cum all over my fingers.” She says, sending you over the edge with one last whine before entirely riding out your climax.

Your heavy pants fill the entire room. Minnie’s forehead touches yours while she hovers over you. You decide to break the gap again and meet her in a long, slick fluid kiss. You could feel her fingers still inside of you before she slowly pulls them out of you. Her face still centimeters away from yours, she puts her fingers into her mouth, allowing herself to taste you before turning her head to pull you into a deep kiss once more. You moan into the kiss, tasting yourself on her lips— you swear you’ve never been more turned on. You stay like that for a few mere moments before the beeping of her dryer snaps the two of you out of it.

“Do you feel better, baby?” She asks, coming off of you and sitting up. She fixes her hair and adjusts her shirt.

“Much better.” You say, offering her that same shit eating grin in return.

Minnie cups your face with her free hand, giving you a gentle kiss on the cheek before standing up from the couch.

“I’ll go get your clothes…”

[akirathedramaqueen]

No, I am not done with Western Energy yet, and I am not sorry

I. Just. Can't. With those parallels.

Just look at that! I am sure bunch of people already pointed that, but Hell knows it makes me think a lot about this shift.

Murder Family

[Blitzø]: Stolas, this is really a bad time!

[Stolas]: Mm, when isn't it a bad time, Blitzy?

Stolas *knows* Blitzø is in danger. There could've been a room for speculation, if it wasn't for the next exchange:

[Blitzø]: What is it?!

[Stolas]: I've been meaning to follow-up on our last little conversation regarding my grimoire.

[Blitzø]: What did you just call me?!

[Stolas]: My book, Blitzy. The book I was given to do my job. That I've allowed you to use to do yours.

*gunshot*

[Blitzø]: Shit!

[Stolas]: Anyhoo, I have been thinking... You know I've been permitting you to access the mortal realm less than legally for some time now? But I do need it back to fulfill my duties. I was thinking; what if we worked out some kind of an exchange? Favors for favors... Doesn't that sound...

*gunshot*

[Stolas]: ...enticing?

[Blitzø]: You gotta stop using your fancy-ass rich people talk, okay? I am trying to concentrate to not getting FUCKED IN MY A *gunshot*

I will omit the rest, as it won't add much to the point (if you've seen the show, you know the conversation doesn't stop here), but you can draw some conclusions from the dynamic:

Stolas sees Blitzø in projection. Gunshots do not give any chance for the wrong interpretation. He knows imp is getting chased.

Stolas takes his time to get to the point, speaks slowly, as if playing with Blitzø, with his life even, and he enjoys that. He knows Blitzø can't turn him down as imp is on a hook.

Blitzø is clear that he would like to pass on the call for the better time, but Stolas keeps him on the line. Blitzø is clear that Stolas needs to get to the point because he is about to get killed, and Stolas, although does that, is still slow in speech, playful, and demeaning towards him.

Overall, Stolas does not care about Blitzø being safe at the beginning of the series. You can also get from that convo that he crosses boundaries without guilt, and if he was able to jeopardise life of his potential lover, it's not surprise at all that he is demeaning, creepy with overly sexual talks at inappropriate times, and does not take Blitzø's offence as something to care about (I don't think Blitzø was called by his name properly at least once in the 1st season, but I have to check), as shown in later episodes. Stolas is abusing power and knows he will get away with it, because Blitzø has nowhere to go and has to put with it.

Western Energy

[Blitzø]: It's really not a good time, buddy...

[Stolas]: I'm sorry it's a bad time yet again, Blitzy, but, um...

[Stolas]: I seem to have found myself in a bit of a sitch.

You see the parallel, right? Right?!

I'm sorry it's a bad time yet again, Blitzy.

The first time we heard that, he wasn't sorry. He was dismissive.

Mm, when isn't it a bad time, Blitzy?

And the situation... Stolas is literally getting kidnapped, and finds time to ask an apology for calling at wrong time. *Again*.

Let's look at another piece of conversation:

[Moxxie]: That's Striker, sir!

[Blitzø]: Oh, for fuck's sake! Can't you just get away? Aren't you powerful?

[Stolas]: I believe he has me bound with blessed rope, which limits my ability to free myself I'm afraid. So I think you should come save me.

[Blitzø]: Oh, shit, Stolas, I can't today, alright? I'm sorry. I-I'm literally on my way to take Loona in for her very important Hellbies S.H.O.T. It takes years to book an appointment at that place, it took me five to get this one... and she's doing a lot of field work, so you know, she needs it...

[Stolas]: Oh, ha-ha, well, I do agree that is very important... but I-

We know the rest. The phone is taken away by Striker, and the conversation is interruped. We also know that Stolas gets a sudden realisation that he is in danger, which gives a hint that before he didn't recognise the situation quite as serious.

You see the shift that happened?

Stolas apologises for taking Blitzø's time, despite being in imminent danger. He went from total dismissive to total apologetic and even evasive.

Stolas takes into account Blitzø's reasons, and admits their importance.

This time Blitzø is the one who talks more, but he is on point the whole time and generally sounds uneasy, understanding that this time this is, despite being the bad time, very important. As we know, after the conversation he rushes in, before agreeing with Moxxie and Millie for them to go instead.

And why is so?

I find it very interesting that the similar phrase was used in so different contexts. In the comparison, the power dynamic simply has flipped.

Stolas was the one who needed attention, and Blitzø was the one who was asked for help.

The first time around, Stolas needed attention as well, but his matter was so diminutive and Blitzø's problems at the moment were so serious, it was simply disrecpectful, to say the least.

The second time, his request is to literally save his life, and he apologises, puts Blitzø's interest higher than his. He now feels like he is a burden, a nuisance in Blitzø's life, not wanting to disturb him at all. The connection that holds them became so fragile, because Stolas realises he has nothing to offer besides power, and from that sole conversation it becomes clear that he now avoids using it against imp even on the verge of being hurt.

Stolas's attitude shifted from dominant to apologetic, he went from assertive to frightened, and, as Blitzø's importance in his life grew, so grew Stolas, giving us hope for his redemption, but also showing how insecure he really was all the time.

So much for the regal title and eldritch powers, if you can't hold onto a meaningful relationship with the one you care for.

[wonton4rang]

could you write something on Kictchen fuck with leehan?

ofc !! I am a hardcore taesan biased but I CAN'T deny that leehan sometimes has a place for too long in my mind :')

pairing; leehan x reader.

warnings; smut +18, and that's it, just some porn without plot, regular sex.

summary; kitchen fuck with your boyfriend leehan after being so absent for a couple weeks due to your job.

note; currently writing another ask I have for taesan 👀 always open for any thoughts or requests <33

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

you were working like a bitch the last few weeks, loads and loads of paperwork filling your desk and restraining you from coming home at the end of your shift. it was tiring, your body was not going to keep holding on for much longer, so you requested your vacations.

your boss did not want to let you go tbh, you took most of the workload of the team and did everything perfectly, but he also knew that you needed to rest so he sent you home the week after you requested him those few days off. but let me tell you something, you were not the only want who wanted to be home, your pretty boyfriend had missed you too during those days that you wouldn't come home early enough for him to see you before falling asleep out of tiredness, and then when he woke up you were already gone, it was hell for leehan.

you got home late last night and as usual you found him sleeping with his back on the bed's board, waiting for you with his arms crossed and his glasses resting in his nose bridge. he looked so hot you almost woke him up to give him the exciting news that you were staying home the next three weeks. you just removed his glasses and tried to make him sleep on his back without waking him up, it worked; you took to the bathroom and then tucked into the sheets with him. it was so nice to have him by your side.

then the next morning when leehan got up, brushed his teeth and went out of the bedroom guided by the smell coming from outside, he got sooo confused because it was saturday and it was HIS day off, you always did extra hours on saturdays so he had two things in mind: he is having visions or someone broke in. but he was so relieved yet dumbfounded when he saw you wearing his large shirt with just your underwear beneath it, you were quietly humming your favourite song of the moment, killer queen by none other than queen itself.

and he would approach you from behind, his hands going automatically to hold the front of your thighs and his head laying in the crook of your neck, leaving a few kisses before you talked "good morning, sleepyhead" your voice was such a turn on for him that you could literally feel his dick twitch in your back, his pajama pants being extremely thin.

"are you staying the whole day, baby?" you nodded and turned around to face him, his hands immediately taking place in your ass.

"i took my vacations"

and that's all you said before you felt his plump lips against yours, his hands touching you with so much hunger you were confused as to how much he most have missed you those few weeks; and is not like you didn't miss him, but he was more in a calm side type of behaviour so he didn't really acted desperate most of the times.

which led you to be very confused when you noticed he was not slowing down, quite the opposite, he was accelerating his pace and kissing you harder, his tongue exploring your mouth and his hard dick pressing against your tummy.

"babe, can you take me now? can i... can i please...?" he couldn't even talk at this point, he was just so hot, so you let him, you ensured him that you could take it and well, you did, cause he lifted you up to the counter and took your underwear to the side so he could get in after taking his dick out of his trousers.

you both saw heaven when he finally thrusted in, speeding up like his life depends on it, kisses trailing down your throat, small hickeys laying there and your hands tangling in his hair while you accepted everything he had to give you. it was so good, so good and so hot, you guys were so horny for the days you couldn't be together that it was not long before you both came, leehan coming first and being followed by you when he rubbed your clit with his thumb for a few seconds.

"I missed you so much" he whispered against your cheek before placing a kiss there, still inside of your throbbing cunt.

"i can tell, i missed you so bad too"

and you guys forgot about breakfast for a while until the burnt smell made you realize you never turned off the pan in the stove. but it was okay, you were with your boyfie and you could always do the pancake mix again !!

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

I am 100% sure that asks/ thoughts/ drabbles should not be this long but I just can't help it 😔 hope you guys enjoyed and that the person who requested this did too!!

[evangelineshifts]

FUCK IT !

You know I started thinking about the analogy that people use for manifestation and shifting comparing it to when you order something online.

And for me that analogy made sense but I could never truly relate to it cause when they said “you don’t wonder when your package is coming, you just know it is and you don’t question that etc etc”

And while yes that is true to a certain extent, I actually DO wonder when my packages are coming sometimes. I DO check how far they are from my location. I do anxiously wait for them to come.

I realize that that’s okay. Cause no matter how many times I check the order status. No matter how many times I check how long it’s been since I ordered it, my package STILL CAME.

I think the way we’re told to restrict ourselves from thinking about how much time our manifestations are taking or when we’re gonna shift actually makes it worse.

When you tell someone not to worry about something, to let it go and not thinking about it, to feign indifference the harder they’re going to try to. Which in turn just makes them think about it more.

It’s counterproductive at best.

When I order something I do think about how long it’ll take. I do check the status but once I do I just kind of go on once I’m done. I don’t really feel any particular way about how long it’s taking cause I know it’s mine and it’ll get here.

I trust that the delivery service will get it here in due time cause that’s THEIR job not mine and leave it at that 🤷🏽‍♀️

Another thing I noticed is that in ordering things- at least for me - I don’t worry about HOW it’s gonna get here. It could be delivered on my doorstep, in the mailbox, dropped from a fucking helicopter, ANYTHING, and I have never once cared.

And it might just be me being slow and realizing this is what they meant in those posts later than everyone else but it’s just like- clicked !

I’m always SO worried about the process of shifting.

What method should I do? Should I even do a method?

What if I get bored? I dont want to do it if I’m bored.

What will I think about? Should I look over my script? Maybe Pinterest boards for visuals?

What if I forgot something? I should check my script.

What if I fall asleep?

What if? What if? What if?

WHO FUCKING CARES?!? That is not why you’re doing this. Who cares about that process when the end goal is the destination.

I’ve been avoiding shifting for the longest because I just kept stressing out over the shifting aspect of it. I would maladaptive daydream about my dr and be happy in that but the thought of attempt a shift made me groan.

The thought of affirming and persisting in my manifestations seemed strenuous.

But thats not the point. With practices as fluid as this focusing on what to do is literally the last thing you need to be worried about and I just now realized that.

You’ve probably heard this all before but like fr, do whatever the hell you want. If you want to shift wide awake, eyes open and dancing with music blasting in your ears- do it. Who’s gonna tell you that you can’t? Who has the credibility to say it’s impossible.

No one.

If you want to manifest by literally saying one affirmation and deciding it’s done and then going on doing whatever the fuck you want until the 3D catches up, then do it.

Tell yourself it works for you and then do it.

✧ dividers by @benkeibear !

[mbta-unofficial]

Over a decade ago, I was working as a human services temp, and there was a month where I took one of the last outbound 71 buses to the end of the line to get to my night shift. Some days, I was the only person left so the bus driver and I would shoot the shit.  One day, I complained about how bad it sucks that nothing stays open late in Watertown, because my day job had kept me late and I didn’t have time to grab dinner. When we reached the last stop, the bus driver unlocked the big metal storage compartment near the door, took out a huge pizza box, and offered me a hot slice of pizza. I literally screamed in delight. The dude explained when it's not as busy on the route, some drivers picked up something during their breaks and ate it at the terminals during layovers—the insulation inside the box kept everything warm.  Even now, I look at those boxes like a dog looks at a bush where he once found half a hot dog like, hell yeah that’s where defibrillators and pepperonis go.

.