#maybe i'll write more tonight i'm kinda feeling it

[mirrortouchedsea]

A familiar set of red eyes appeared in the darkness as Kaoru slumped over in his chair. “What’s wrong, little Kaoru?” Rei asked, sliding into a chair across from Kaoru. He picked up one of the books and thumbed through it, seemingly able to read the words despite the dimming candle light. 

“Nothing, just don’t want to go back to studies next week.” Kaoru’s finger traced a circle on the table. “What about you?” 

Rei laughed softly. “It’s nothing you need to worry yourself with.” What a non-answer. By this point Kaoru was aware of the weird disease that impacted the Sakuma family and that Rei was concerned about how it would develop in his younger brother, but the details of it were never specific.

“Is it your brother again?” He couldn’t help but ask. Kaoru had met the younger Sakuma a few times and he was polite enough to his face, though Kaoru suspected he was just putting up an act like everyone else. 

“How astute of you Kaoru,” Rei commented, setting the book down on the table, bored of its contents already. “But no, it’s not about little Ritsu this time.” Kaoru raised an eyebrow but decided to let the conversation drop for now. Rei grabbed another book. “You’ve been reading an awful lot about mermaids recently.” 

[woulddieforloki]

I kind of want to write a fic where Odin is about to banish Thor and Loki's watching it go down and the guilt is eating at him and right before Thor gets yeeted through the Bifrost, Loki yells, "IT WAS ME!" and, because that's actually words (and interesting words at that), Odin actually stops what he's doing to listen instead of just yelling a keyboard smash out loud, and Loki explains that he manipulated Thor into attacking Jotunheim, but it was never supposed to get that far and he's very sorry and it will never happen again. and he thinks he's mitigating the damage but instead Odin just banishes him instead (and he'd banish Thor too but he needs someone to take the throne and tbh what would it say about him as a dad if he has to banish all three of his kids?)

so then Loki ends up getting hit by Jane's car, except he's not an idiot so he doesn't run around screaming at the sky about being hammered and Darcy never has to taze him so he never ends up in the hospital so they're off to a good start already.

and they get to talking (and they're all very confused and operating under completely different understandings of the situation) and Loki figures out he's in Midgard entirely because they don't know what the Nine Realms are and Midgard is the only realm stupid enough not to know that. Jane mentions that they're scientists and Loki just kinda scoffs at that because scientists on Midgard are like childrens' tutors in Asgard, and Jane is equally offended and impressed.

and I choose to think that Odin never takes Loki's magic away the way he did to Thor's because he can't take it away. if he could, he would've done that before they threw him in the dungeon in TDW. so Loki still has his magic so it's pretty easy to convince them that he's a god (and honestly they're more convinced than he is because he just found out that he might possibly be Jotun?)

so they end up taking Loki with them (against Selvig's better judgment) because he sounds like a know-it-all and he ends up pretty much being a know-it-all so that works well for Jane. and actually it kinda maybe works too well? because she starts to fall in love with him and surprise, it's a Lokane fic and he starts to fall for her and they have babies and live happily ever after!

no jk idk what would happen but I'm thinking Mjolnir would still be out there so maybe Loki would go to check it out and he'd probably have better luck with it because he's magic so it's pretty easy to get everyone out of his way but he's definitely not worthy so he can't wield it but it does get them both tangled up with SHIELD probably?

idk apparently I can only thing of Lokane fic ideas if they have no ending so that's all I got lmao

[nicksolemnlyswears]

THE BEAR AND THE BEE HIVE

summary: in which carmy falls for the sweet café owner that supplies him with endless americanos

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

word count: 14.4k

warning: it's a little bit of a slow burn. sorry. i'm a sucker for it and i feel like carmy is a slow burn kinda guy. 18 +, cursing, smut, p in v, oral (m. receiving), fingering, they use protection guys! i deserve a pat in the back. nothing too wild. oh, and very brief mention of suicide.

a/n: i started writing this way back in october and then it was nearly done and i abandoned it. well i finally got around to completing it tonight!

this is my first time ever writing for carmy and i tried my best writing this. i love carmy and the show but i didn’t expect it to be hard to write him as a character. i wanted to get him right so i took my time with it and didn’t rush it. hopefully you guys like my carmy. enjoy!

i think i've had this stored in my drafts for like 4 months and it's time for me to set it free.

The cigarettes were not enough anymore. No matter how many smoke breaks Carmy took, he still felt the edge on his shoulders. A fear laced with anxiety that overtook him.

After deciding that blowing through yet another wall in his restaurant was the way to go, Carmy took a break. He needed it before he used the sledgehammer to destroy the restaurant in its entirety, along with his dream.

He remembers a coffee shop only a block away from The Bear and thinks he could use a coffee right about now. Maybe the mixture of caffeine and nicotine will be able to relax his shoulders, if only for an hour.

As soon as he opens the door, the smell of ground coffee beans greets him. He looks around, taking in the cozy ambiance the decorative wood brings to the place and the splashes of warm yellow that lighten it up.

Then he sees you, and his focus shifts entirely. His eyes only see you.

"Hi, welcome to Bee Hive!" You chirp with a small smile.

Carmy freezes, forgetting why he's there in the first place. He slowly steps up to the register, where you patiently wait for him. It's just after the lunch rush, so you're in no hurry.

He finds he's acting like a teenager who has just seen a pretty girl. Only he's not a teenager, and you're more than a pretty girl.

"What can I get for you today?" You ask, not noticing the effect you've had on him. You take a sharpie out of your yellow apron, preparing to scribble down his order in a cup.

Carmy has perfected the empty on the outside but screaming on the inside face. Strangers don't tend to know he's almost always losing his shit.

"I-I don't…sorry," Carmy looks at you briefly before diverting his eyes. He apologizes in a flurry, looking for an excuse for his weird behavior, "Uh, it's my first time here. What do you recommend?"

"It's not a problem," you say softly as if to calm him, "I'm a simple girl. I love the latte, but if you're looking for something stronger, the americano is one of the favorites."

Carmy nods as you ramble about the drinks, where the coffee beans come from, and the different notes of each blend. He hangs onto every word that slips from your lips. The static in his brain clearing up for the first time in hours.

It ends too soon as you realize you're talking too much and probably overwhelmed him. You sheepishly smile at him and trail off, but he continues to stare, waiting for you to continue.

"I'll take the Americano," Carmy nods, giving you a tight-lipped smile. Although he had been hanging to every one of your words, he was too focused on the shape of your lips and the sweet tone of your voice.

"Good choice," you nod, grabbing a cup from the tray beside you, "What's your name?"

Carmy looks up, slightly alarmed, as if you've asked for his social security number. "What?" He thinks you'll be forward and ask for his number next, seemingly forgetting how coffee orders work.

"Your name? For the order?" You explain, trying to ease his worries. He's odd, but in an endearing way. You believe this is his first time here because you're confident you would've remembered him.

"Fuck, right, yeah," he nervously says, pinching the bridge of his nose, "My name's Carmen."

"Your Americano will be right out, Carmen," you tell him, capping your sharpie back up.

Carmy quickly pays and stands to the side to wait for his order. He forces himself to not look at you or in your direction as you take other customers' orders. He just knows he's made a fool of himself already. Not that it matters. Why would it matter? He's there for the coffee. Nothing else, no one else.

As he walks out of Bee Hive, he sips his coffee. His shoulders instantly drop, and his fear-induced anxiety starts to dissipate for the moment. He's unsure if the effect is because of the caffeine or the thoughts of your pretty smile.

Visiting your coffee shop becomes routine for Carmy. Whenever things at The Bear become crazy -or he starts to lose his fuckin' mind- he makes his way to Bee Hive with a cigarette hanging from his lips.

For twenty minutes, he's free of Richie's constant hounding, Sugar's struggles with the permits and scheduling, and Sydney's disappointment because the menu is still extremely underway.

Each time he's stopped by, you've been there to greet him, and each time, you've left a little heart by Carmen's name, which makes his heart race in a peculiar way. His hands would touch his chest to check if it was heartburn, but it didn't feel like that. It's not anxiety either cause he knows pretty well how that feels.

All he knows is he hasn't done anything to deserve such a gesture. He's convinced himself you draw little hearts for everyone because he's not special.

One Thursday afternoon, Carmy realizes he doesn't know your name. He looks for a name tag, but you're not wearing one on your yellow apron. He should know your name if you insist on making small talk despite his short answers.

He can't help it. He gets too in his head to answer like a normal person, so his answers come out choppy and dry.

"Alright, Carmen, your order will be right out," you say, handing his cup to one of the baristas. You always hold out and ask him what he wants to order. He has the right to change his mind anytime, but for now, he's stuck with the americano, which he drowns in sugar.

As curiosity eats at him, he gathers the courage to ask. "Thanks. Hey, uh, I've-I’ve never gotten your name…” Carmy says, cursing at himself for not formulating the question correctly. His hand comes up to grip his hair instinctually.

Your smile widens when he asks your name. The silly crush you've developed for your customer fluttering to life. It's just a crush over a stranger, nothing to write home about.

You tell him your name but follow it with "-call me Honey. Everyone knows me by that name. I'm sure if you ask my friends about me with my real name, you'll throw them for a loop."

You're rambling, hoping he doesn't think calling you by your nickname is weird. Then again, how can he judge when he has a sister people call 'Sugar' and he and his siblings also don the nickname 'Bear.'

"Honey." Carmy repeats your nickname, smiling as he finds it fitting. "In that case, call me Carmy."

"Nice to properly meet you, Carmy," you say, grinning.

Like all the days before, Carmy steps aside and waits for his coffee. He doesn't let himself continue the conversation or ask more about you even if it’s everything he wants to do.

It's rare for Carmy to be in a good mood, and whenever it happens, it doesn't tend to last. His goal of opening a restaurant in 12 weeks makes it impossible for him to relax and enjoy the ride. To prolong this unusual feeling, Carmy stops by Bee Hive on his way to The Bear.

"Have you made your boss angry, Honey?" He asks as he pulls out his wallet to pay. He ordered the americano as he always does.

"No…why do you ask?" You ask, tilting your head in confusion.

"Uh, 'cause you-you're always here. Do you not take days off? Not that I'm complaining. I-I like seeing you here." Carmy's words get quieter as he speaks, red creeping up his neck. So much for trying to make a joke.

You look around the room and tell him, "Imma let you in on a little secret."

Carmy follows your hand, waving him to get closer. The smell of cigarettes invades your senses as you get close to him. You'd never admit that the mix of his cigarettes and your coffee is addicting. As both lean over the counter, you whisper, "I'm the boss. I can't run away even if I wanted to."

"You own the coffee shop," Carmy pans in shock.

Carmy is more than surprised at your words. Especially now that he knows how expensive it is to open a business. You can't be a day over 25 and own a successful coffee place. There is hope, after all.

"I do," you nod, standing straight once more.

A couple of years ago, you had inherited a hefty amount of money from an estranged aunt. Fresh out of college and with no real plan, you thought it would be a good moment to follow your dream and open the cozy café.

"How do you do it?" Carmy asks, amazed at the girl smiling at him. "I don't know if you know, but, um, I-I'm opening the restaurant around the block. Used to be The Beef?" He finishes grimly as he points to his side of the block.

"Oh, yeah. The guys who worked there helped me move some equipment when I first opened two years ago," you reveal, "Tell you what, whenever you have a break, come around. I'll give you a free americano and tell you all about it. Neighbor to neighbor."

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Carmy agrees. "I'll take you up on that."

Weeks go by, and Carmy seemingly forgets about Bee Hive and your pending conversation. You try not to overthink about his absence or how you might've scared him away. He's probably just busy remodeling his restaurant. You know better than anyone how much time that takes.

Still, his presence has become part of your routine, and you can't help but look at the door each time the bell rings. You expect to see him walking up to the counter, the remnants of cigarette smoke coming out his nose as he breathes.

You're pretty close to your assumption because Carmy has been dealing with the fire suppression test. They didn't fail the test once but twice, and if they didn't pass it on the third try, their plan to open the restaurant in 12 weeks goes out the window. Fak has tried everything, and nothing works.

He'd sent Richie once on a coffee run, but the fuckin' idiot went to the nearest Starbucks. Carmy had been looking forward to tasting your coffee and seeing his name in the cup with the little heart because he's 100% sure he's the only Carmen you know. It's not a common name in these parts of town.

One very early morning, he's walking to work, and as he passes Bee Hive, he sees you inside, wiping tables down before you open at 6:30.

Impulsively, he knocks on the glass, not giving himself the time to overthink things. You turn to look at the window and see him standing outside, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his familiar plaid jacket to protect himself from the chilly March air.

"Hey stranger," you greet him, opening the door and inviting him in.

"Hi," he breathes out, staring at you, "you're here early," he tries to casually mention.

You roll your eyes dramatically and say, "It's a downside of the job. Did you know people want coffee at the crack of dawn?"

You try acting as nonchalant as possible. It's not like you missed seeing one of your favorite customers, his beautiful blue eyes, or the way he rocks a simple white t-shirt.

"I had no idea," Carmy smiles, bringing his tattooed hand up to his lips, "I, uh, usually drink mine at night." That much is true. On those sleepless nights when insomnia takes over him, the best remedy is coffee.

"Would you make an exception and join me for a morning coffee at the crack ass of dawn?" Anxiously, you play with the rings on your fingers. It feels like you're asking the guy on a date when it's just a friendly coffee.

"As long as you have some business advice to spare?" Carmy responds shakily. He briefly looks down the street to glimpse at his restaurant. It's too early for anyone to be there yet.

"Deal."

Throwing the towel over your shoulder, you make your way behind the counter. Carmy attempts to make small talk with you as you prepare both drinks.

This is the first time he's watching you in action since you tend to stick to the cash register when he's around. It's not a coincidence. After the first time he came to Bee Hive, you wanted to see more of him, so you stationed yourself at the register where you'd be sure to see him, and he'd see you.

"Here you go." You place his coffee mug on the table along with yours before disappearing momentarily and returning with an orange soufflé coffee cake. You're pulling all the stops for Carmy to leave a good impression.

Carmy thanks you and sips his coffee, "Wow, this is fire!" He expected to taste an americano, but what you prepared was entirely different. He can make out hints of hazelnut and caramel in the coffee.

"Thanks. I took the liberty of changing your order. You can always come back to the americano, though…" you shrug shyly, looking at him over the rim of your mug.

"I-I appreciate it. Thanks." Carmy throws you a nervous grin. He gestures with his tattooed hand to dig into the cake you brought out. He shouldn't be the only one eating.

You and Carmy share the cake as you talk about yourselves and the crazy businesses you own. Somehow, talking to you comes easy to him. He's still nervous and scared to fuck things up, but the warm coffee and your even warmer smile ease him into it.

"How do you do it? This place is always packed, and you seem like you run a tight ship," Carmy wonders, playing with the fork. The cake is long gone, although the notes of orange remain on his tongue. Would you taste the same?

"It wasn't without mistakes. I had to learn a lot from my fuck ups and listen to my team because although I'm the owner, they are the ones doing most of the work. Whenever there's a flaw, they are the first to know," you speak softly, afraid of ruining the calm ambiance you've set up, twirling the small amount of coffee left in your mug.

It's your favorite part of morning coffee. When you have just the smallest bit of coffee left, and you know you'll never drink it because it's cold, but it gives you an excuse to remain where you are.

"So, all I gotta do is listen?" It's funny you say that because Carmy listens, but his friend's voices get muddled somewhere along the way. As much as he tries to focus on them, they merge together and form a cacophony in his head.

"A lot of listening and a lot of experimentation. I've been open for two years, and it's only been in the last six months that I can confidently tell you we found our groove," you admit with a grimace.

Bee Hive is your baby, but bringing it to life was everything but easy. You messed up so many times, costing you so much money. You didn't know shit about owning a business or building one from the ground up. Doing research and putting your pride aside to ask for help got you through it.

"I've only been doing this for, like, less than a fuckin' year, and I already want to pull my hair out," Carmy admits with a pitiful laugh.

"I'm sorry I can't tell you it gets better soon," you say apologetically, reaching for his hand that rests on the table.

Carmy freezes, glancing at your hand on top of his. He hasn't got a clue what to fucking do with the display of affection. Was it a display of affection? He doesn't fucking know. "It's, uh, it's, uh, it's alright. As-as long as you give me coffee, I think I can make it through," Carmen furrows his eyebrows as he stutters through the sentence.

"I can't wait to see what the award-winning chef does," you say, bringing your hand back to your lap, none the wiser to Carmy's internal struggle.

He should've done something to keep your hand on his. Place his other hand on yours or fucking turn his hand around to grasp it. He liked feeling your warm skin on his. It hasn't been a minute since you pulled away, and he's craving it already. It's ridiculous. Is he really that touch-starved that he's seeking affection from a near stranger?

He coughs and darts his eyes between the wooden table top and you, "Fuck. You-you know about that?"

"I might've done some research after finding out you're opening the restaurant. I got curious. I'm sorry." Apologizing is your default thing to do. Messing things up is your area of expertise. You really didn't think he'd mind you mentioning it.

"No, no, no, uh, you don't have to apologize. You just caught me off guard," Carmy shakes his head, reassuring both of you.

"Okay, good," you lightly smile at him, averting your eyes when your gazes meet.

If there's a time for you to make a move, it's now. Taking a shaky breath, you speak up, "I was wondering if you'd ever like to-."

A loud knock on the glass door interrupts you. You and Carmy jump and look towards the source of the noise. It's one of your regular clients, waving at you to open up. Looking at your watch, you see it's 6:30 already.

"Shit. I'm-I'm sorry I took so much of your time," Carmy apologizes, picking up his mug and the plate to put away.

You grab his wrist to make him stop in his tracks, "Relax. I enjoyed talking to you. Maybe we can do it again soon?"

Carmy nods wide-eyed. He likes the idea just as much as you do. You take away the mug and plate with a soft 'okay.' He then follows you to the door as you unlock it and turn the sign to 'open.'

"I, um, gotta go work on the menu. I'll probably be back later for another coffee?" Carmen asks you as if he's asking for permission, which you find adorable.

"I'll be behind the register," you say, watching him walk away. He turns his head back for a moment, and you catch the smile gracing his lips as yours turns to mimic him.

"Oh, he's cute," your customer, an older lady, says, watching him go along with you. "It's about time you got a boyfriend."

"Mrs. O'Hara, here for your tea?" You ask her, ignoring the comment about your love life. That woman will set you up with anyone. She does love her tea, though, and expects you to provide it on time.

It's slow, but Carmen warms up to you. Instead of grabbing his coffee to go, he now drinks it at the café, coincidentally around the same time you take your break.

He's been hesitantly opening up. It's not like he's telling you about how fucked up his family is or how his brother committed suicide. More often, it's about the restaurant and his work as a chef, the struggles of getting every permit they need on a tight schedule since they are supposed to open in about four weeks now, or the occasional childhood memory. It's everything you need to know at this stage.

You love listening to Carmy talk, even if you have to coax it out of him sometimes. He's passionate about the restaurant despite all the stress that comes from it, and he adores the people he works with. He's shy but not in a dorky way because he's actually fascinating. Before meeting him, you never knew that collecting denim was a thing.

The smell of cigarettes that clings to him is also tightly laced with his character. When you step outside to get some sun and the scent of someone smoking hits you, your heart instantly speeds up, hoping it's him coming for his daily americano, or to come swoop you away into a sunset.

"-I fell on my ass in the middle of the street. I was freaking out, thinking I was gonna get run over by a car," you exclaim as you tell Carmy about the crazy Christmas you spent in New York last year.

"It's New York. You probably would have been run over," Carmy chuckles along with you. "There was this one time I was running late and-" His phone vibrating interrupts him.

"Sorry, it's just the fridge guy," he tells you with a furrow of his eyebrows. You notice he does that a lot when he's thinking deeply. Carmy silences it and looks back over to you.

"You should pick that up. A busted fridge is the last thing you need. Trust me. Been there, done that." You encourage him to take the call. The restaurant is more important than your story about how you bruised your coccyx in New York.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Carm! Call him back before you forget," you insist, grabbing his empty cup to trash it. You don't give him any other option, leaving him there to help your employees with a faulty machine.

He watches you closely, closer than ever before. He allows himself to watch how you frown at the machine and how your ringed fingers fumble with the knobs. His eyes keep trailing down involuntarily, and they take in how nicely your jeans hug your ass.

He goes into a spiral into these old pair of Levi jeans popular in the 90s and how they would fit nicely with the shape of your hips and legs. Carmy continues on the tangent, imagining himself peeling them off your body.

The phone vibrating in his hand snaps him out of it. Clearing his throat, he picks up the phone and walks outside. He waves at you through the window as he makes his way back to The Bear. Your frustration at the machine vanishes momentarily as you wave back, except the machine splatters, forcing you to redirect your attention. When you look outside again, he's gone.

Stakes are high at The Bear. There's less than four weeks until Friends and Family, and there is much to do. Marcus has returned from Copenhagen and is working on the desserts. Tina is doing her job as the new sous chef. Fak and Sweeps are helping out wherever they can. And Richie is being Richie, trying to be open but resisting change.

"I need coffee or a pop. Anything with caffeine," Sydney says, throwing her head back. She and Carmen have been working on the chaos menu for hours, and she keeps messing up. Carmy insists that it's okay that they'll adjust and get it right soon, but she's beginning to lose hope.

"Me too. I'd kill for an espresso," Natalie agrees, softly rubbing her hand over her growing bump.

"I thought you couldn't have caffeine cause of the baby," Richie mentions, remembering Tiff's time while pregnant.

"I don't need you to fuckin' tell me what I can or can't eat, Richie," Natalie yells, glaring at him. Although he's right, the doctor told her to limit her caffeine intake. Hard to do when she's up all night thinking about everything she needs to do for The Bear.

"Shit. I'm sorry for fucking caring," Richie screams back, lifting his hands up in defense.

"I can go to the coffee place down the block. Get everyone something," Carmy pipes up, looking forward to seeing you today.

Natalie is quick to shoot that idea down, "You can't. The fridge guy is coming in 20 minutes."

"Fuck, that's right," Carmy groans, digging his head in his hands. His fingers rake through his hair, messing up his curls. He wanted to see you and talk to you, even if it was for five short minutes.

"I'll go," Sydney sighs. She needs to leave the kitchen for more than five minutes, or she'll go crazy, "Just tell me what you guys want to order."

Natalie grumbles about getting decaf, Richie orders a plain black coffee, and Carmy asks for his americano. As Sydney leaves to ask Marcus, Carmy yells after her, "Please, go to Bee Hive. If you get Starbucks, I'm gonna fucking lose it."

Richie and Natalie exchange a look. Richie because he's confused, and Natalie because she knows something is happening with Carmy. He's never been picky over coffee. In fact, they have an old coffee machine in the office that now goes unused because he's always at that coffee shop.

"Sorry, I didn't get the fuckin' memo. Since when is Starbucks bad?" Richie frowns, looking to get a rise out of Carmy.

"I don't think it's about the coffee, cousin," Natalie responds, directing her gaze towards her brother, who is hunched over the counters, chopping vegetables.

"If it's not about the coffee, what is it about?" Richie questions, crossing his arms.

"Shut the fuck up, Sugar," Carmy grumbles, looking at his sister with a glare. He already knows where she's going. She tried to bring it up a couple of days ago after she walked by the coffee shop and saw him being friendly with you.

Natalie smiles and responds, "Carmy has a crush on the barista."

"That's ridiculous. I don't have a crush on her." Carmy shakes his head, avoiding Richie and Natalie's eyes on him. They always do this. They gang up on him if he shows even the slightest interest in a girl. They think they can help, but all they do is embarrass him.

"Come on, Bear. Why else would you go almost every day to get coffee?" Natalie asks, giving him a look.

"Because it's good fuckin' coffee. Jesus, it's not that deep." Carmy grabs the veggies he chopped and drops them into a container to use later.

"It's okay to admit you like a pretty girl, cousin! I'm excited for you! Makes you human and not a lonely hermit," Richie jokes, pushing on Carmy's buttons. "When was the last time you got laid?"

"I swear to God, Richie. Shut the fuck up," Carmy points at him angrily.

"No, I should go with Sydney and see who this girl is!" Richie says, walking out of the half-built kitchen.

Carmy follows him instantly, "You're not going fuckin' anywhere, fuckin' jagoff." He's turning red from anger, seeing Richie with his mocking smile. Natalie follows behind them, amused at the situation. It reminds her of the banters they used to get in with Mickey.

"Admit that you like her," Richie shrugs, giving him a choice.

"No, I won't," Carmy refuses. "You always do this shit."

"Then, I'm going," Richie nods, stepping towards the door.

"Fuck! Shit, alright. I like her, okay? Don't fucking go anywhere," Carmy yells, rubbing a hand on his face out of frustration. It's like he's not allowed to keep anything good to himself.

"Was that so hard?" Richie grins, clapping a hand on Carmy's shoulder.

"Don't fuckin' touch me," Carmy grumbles, walking back to the kitchen. Natalie follows him with a smile, shaking her head at Richie.

Carmy sighs and squeezes his eyes shut. He has yet to admit that he likes you more than he should. He's been avoiding it, afraid of what it might lead to, or rather, what it might not.

He couldn't let Richie go see you. He has a big fuckin' mouth and will tell you Carmy has a crush on you whether it's true or not. Just like that, he feels the sour taste in his mouth, his heartburn making an appearance. Carmy should go look for his pepto before it gets worse.

Unaware of the argument back at The Bear, Sydney walks to Bee Hive. She's walked past many times but has yet to have the time to stop and try it out.

As she waits in line, she reads over the drinks menu. It's clear that it's been carefully curated. Starbucks has nothing on this menu. She can see why Carmy would prefer to come here instead.

When it's her turn to order, Sydney takes out her phone to recite everyone's drink order. She also points to a few pastries, thinking Marcus would like to try some of them and get inspiration. That and she knows Natalie will enjoy them as well.

You're sitting at a table close to the pickup counter. You often find yourself all over the store, ensuring everything goes smoothly. Sometimes, you stop to talk to your regulars and see how they're doing.

You notice Sydney struggling with all the cups she has to carry. It's proving difficult despite the to-go trays your barista put them in. Deciding to approach her, you ask, "Do you need help?"

"Oh, no. I'm fine, thanks," Sydney responds with a nervous smile. She's trying hard to grab everything, including the box with the pastries.

You continue watching her struggle because you know she needs help. You let her try and figure it out for one more minute before stepping in again when she almost drops two of the drinks, "Need some help now?"

"Yeah," Sydney sighs, "I guess I can leave one of the trays here, go to the restaurant, and come back for the rest," she speaks mostly to herself.

"Are you going far?"

"No, just the restaurant down the block," Sydney responds with a sigh, scratching her eyebrow as she tries to figure out the logistics of carrying the drinks. She could get a box to put everything in.

You perk up at her response. The only restaurant down the block is Carmen's. Could she work there? "Carmy's restaurant?"

"You know Carmy?" Sydney asks, tilting her head. Maybe Nat was right. Carmy spends his time here because of the woman in front of her.

"He comes here often. Anyway, I can go with you to help you out. It's not far, and I'd feel bad if your drinks got cold." You offer to help her out because you're a nice person. Not because you want a chance to see the curly-haired man you are developing feelings for.

"You really don't have to…"

"It's really not a problem," you press, grabbing one of the to-go trays and motioning for her to lead the way.

Sydney sighs in defeat and nods, "Thanks. I'm Sydney, by the way."

"I'm Honey," you smile, following her outside.

You chat all the way to the restaurant with Sydney. She reminds you of Carmy in some ways, so you can see why they are friends. Before arriving at the restaurant, Sydney apologizes in advance for any sort of mess there might be, including yelling.

As you near the building under renovation, your palms start to sweat. Maybe you shouldn't have come. You're showing up unannounced, and he's probably too busy to talk to you anyway. You can slip in and out without him noticing. That's the goal now.

You open the door for Sydney, letting her go through first, and quietly follow her into the restaurant. There's no time to escape, as all eyes are instantly on you.

Richie is arguing with Fak when he sees you walk in. He narrows his eyes as Carmy looks in your direction from the kitchen. With just one glance to Carmy's face, he knows who you're supposed to be.

"Guess I didn't have to go anywhere. She came to me," Richie whispers, rushing out the door.

"Shut the fuck up. Where are you going? Don't embarrass me!" Carmy whispers out to Richie unsuccessfully.

"Oh, you'll do that all by yourself," Richie throws over his shoulder.

"Honey, hey, what-what're you doing here?" Carmy speaks, not giving Richie a chance to open his big mouth. He stands between you and Richie, blocking him for the time being.

"Sydney needed help with the drinks," you answer nervously, averting your eyes.

"Oh, thanks for that. You didn't have to," Carmy approaches you and takes the drinks from your hands. His fingers brush with yours momentarily, causing you both to blush.

"I did, or else you probably wouldn't have anything to drink," you whisper to him.

Sydney, Fak, and Richie all watch the interaction amusedly. Richie has a big teasing grin on his face as he makes a plan in his head.

"Hi, I'm Richie! Carmy's cousin," he introduces himself, shoving Carmy to the side and shaking your hand enthusiastically. "I gotta say Carmen right here is obsessed with your coffee. He's banned us from getting Starbucks."

Carmy curses under his breath as Richie does precisely what he tells him not to. He has the urge to throw the coffee at him and run away.

"Is that right?" You ask, amused, looking over at Carmy with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh yeah," Richie answers for him as Carmy tries to find the right words to say. "Cousin, why don't you give the nice lady a tour of the place?"

"It's not done yet. Could be dangerous," Carmy hopelessly says with a gulp.

"Nonsense! You'll take care of her!" Richie insists. He takes the coffee from Carmy's hands and pushes him in your direction. "Go give her a tour."

Richie, Sydney, and Fak all disappear to the office to stay out of the way and try to snoop simultaneously. Fak sends Carmy a not-so-discreet thumbs-up that makes you giggle.

He's internally screaming at his so-called friends but is glad to see you. It was all he wanted before Sydney left to get their drinks. It's strange having you here at The Bear, though. He's so used to seeing you in your own space back at Bee Hive.

Trying to make things better, you say, "Sorry you've been roped into this. You probably have better things to do. I can go-"

Carmy doesn't let you finish. "No, stay. I want to show you around."

"Let's see what you got then, Berzatto," you grin, following him to the kitchen.

Carmy takes his time showing you The Bear. He wants you to stay. He wants to spend time with you but doesn't really know how to say it. So he takes it slow, answers your questions about the restaurant, shows you the front and how everything will be laid out, and introduces you to the ones around, including the fridge guy working on the handle.

Sadly, you get a call from Bee Hive asking you to come back. Carmy walks you outside, dreading having to say goodbye.

"I'm really excited for The Bear to open. You have a great place and team," you tell Carmy.

"I really got lucky with them, huh?" He asks, playing with a dish towel.

"I gotta go. I'll see you later, Berzatto." You don't know where you got the guts to lean towards him and kiss his cheek.

Carmy stays still as his face heats up. You start walking away and throw him a smile over your shoulder. When you're a distance away, he touches the cheek you kissed. Back inside, Richie runs over to Sugar to tell her what he just witnessed.

It's late when Carmy leaves The Bear. As he walks to the train station, he has his hands stuffed in his jacket pocket. On his way, he sees a lone light turned on in your café. Crossing the street to check it out, he sees you're still there with glasses perched on your nose in front of the computer.

He tries the door, and to his luck, it's open. You look in his direction, startled, but relax once you see it's him.

"Nice glasses," Carmy teases, pulling out a chair to sit.

"Are you making fun of me?" You purse your lips, propping your chin on your palm.

"No, I…I think you look cute with them," Carmy admits. After a stern talk from Sugar and Richie, he's realized he should probably make a proper move on you because if what they say is true, you also have a crush on him.

"Thanks," you blush, the light from your screen making it obvious to Carmy, who can't stop the corners of his lips from turning up into a smile.

"Late night?"

"One of my baristas is moving out of state. I have to find someone new, preferably who has experience," you say with a sigh. Glancing at him, you add, "Are you perhaps interested in the position?"

"Poaching me from my own restaurant, nice. I'll let you know I'm an excellent worker," Carmy jokes, tapping his fingers on the table.

There's no doubt in your mind he's an excellent worker. He has to be if he's considered one of the best up-and-coming chefs. Or to work in one of the best restaurants in the world with three Michelin stars.

"I don't know. I'll need references," you speak as if not believing him.

Carmy smiles and softly chuckles, "Fair enough."

There's a moment of silence between the two of you that Carmy is quick to fill, "So, uh, have you had dinner yet by chance?" This is it.

You shake your head no and look at him with hopeful eyes.

"Wanna go grab pizza? I know a place," he asks, finding your gaze on him.

"Say no more," you say, closing your laptop and taking off your glasses. "I'm starving."

Carmy waits for you to lock Bee Hive and grab your things. Then, you both walk to the pizza place. To pass the time, you and Carmy talk about your days and anything that comes to mind. Nothing serious as you get to know each other.

Waiting in line to order the pizza, you tell him all about your nickname and how you were donned 'Honey' to everyone who knows you. In return, he tells you about his nickname 'Bear' and why his restaurant is named as such. For the first time, he dares mention Mickey.

"Best pizza in Chicago," Carmy says, taking a slice of the pie and placing it on your plate.

"I'll see about that," you murmur. You wait until he has a slice of his own and dig in simultaneously.

"It's good, but this is not the best pizza place in Chicago," you say after chewing the first bite, "I'm gonna get your chef license revoked."

"Are you? With what proof? Have you tried all the pizza places to know?"

"I don't have to because I've tried the best," you hum, taking another bite. The cheese stretches as you pull it away.

"Oh yeah? Which one?" Carmy questions you, taking a drink of his beer.

"Mine. The pizza I make is the best," you shrug modestly.

"Wait. You cook?" Carmy asks, giving you a look of surprise.

Cooking is a universal thing. Most people know how to cook up to a degree, yet only some are as confident in their skills as you are. You know you're definitely not up to Carmy's level, but if there is something you know how to do properly, it's pizza.

"Yeah! You're not the only good cook here, Berzatto," you sass back at him, dipping the pizza crust in the marinara sauce.

"Sorry for assuming," he raises his palms.

"You're forgiven," you chirp.

"When will I try this famous pizza of yours then?" Carmy wonders. An attempt to see if you'd like to see more of him.

"I promise I'll make it for you once you open The Bear. You're too stressed to fully enjoy it now," you respond. You were reaching out. Throwing hints that you want this to continue in the foreseeable future.

The conversation continues to flow with an empty pizza box in front of you. Customers come and go until it's only the two of you and a drunk customer picking up his pizza.

"Tell me about your tattoos. Were they an act of rebellion or something else?"

It's an excuse to touch his hands. You reach for them, turning them to see the black ink on his hands and fingers. You gently trace over them with the pads of your fingers. Over the hand that's stabbed, the letters S.O.U. on his knuckles and the forget-me-nots. The one you're dying to touch, though, is the one on his bicep; you'd give anything to feel the hard muscle underneath the rolled-up sleeves of his white t-shirt.

"Uh, my first tattoo is the 773. Got it when I left Chicago for the first time. After that, I sort of became addicted to them. I found they helped my anxiety when it was becoming too much. The pain distracted me and made me feel stronger than I actually was," he says, letting you touch him. He finds that he likes it. Your touch is soft and warm. Comforting.

"So what you're trying to say is you're a masochist," you say, bouncing your eyebrows at him. Your touch goes further up his arm to turn it and look at the fish tattoo on his forearm.

"I guess so," Carmy responds with a breathy laugh, "Do you have any tattoos?"

"Maybe…" You shrug as the pads of your fingers trail back down to his palm until you pull them back towards you. Carmy instantly misses the feeling, opting to cross his arms to retain the warmth you left behind.

"It's bad, isn't it?" He says knowingly. Your reaction told him everything he needed to know.

"The worst," you grimace, shaking your head at the memory of you getting it.

"So, rebellion or something else?"

"Rebellion. For all the wrong reasons," you groan, burying your face in your hands, "Growing up, everyone saw me as a good girl because that's what I was. Breaking the rules terrified me. So, as a teenager, I didn't want to be seen as a goody two shoes, so the summer before I went to college, I decided that getting a tattoo would make me a badass."

"Did it work?"

"God, no. I only got the outline done 'cause it hurt like a bitch. Then I went crying to my parents, fully having a meltdown, apologizing for disappointing them," You scrunch your nose as you say the following words, "They laughed in my face, called me a wimp, and told me to suck it up."

Carmy fully laughs at your story. Head thrown back, eyes closing, "What did you get?"

"That's a secret, Berzatto," you purse your lips, avoiding responding. You just know he'll make fun of you for it.

Everyone who has seen your tattoo has made fun of you for it, yourself included. It's so silly and not badass. Carmy will have to wait to see your tattoo, and you hope this continues so he can see it up close.

"Really? That bad?" Carmy stares wide-eyed.

"It's terrible," you nod, leaning on the table. "We should probably get going before the waitress throws a fit."

Carmy looks over his shoulder to see the waitress glaring at them. It's five minutes till close, and they've made no move to go. He turns back to you and nods towards the door. Carmy helps you with your jacket and leaves a tip on the jar for the waitress. At that, she happily calls after them with a 'Good night!'

"Do you live far?" Carmy asks, seeing how dark it is now that most places have closed. There are too many lamp posts that aren't working. He'd feel better if he could walk you home or you called an Uber. Preferably the former.

"Only a couple of blocks away. Why?"

"It's late. Let me walk you home," Carmy says decidedly, not giving you much of a choice.

"Thanks," you respond with a small smile.

The pace you set is slow. You don't want your time with Carmy to end just yet. He's such an interesting and sweet guy. He's a little awkward, but it adds to his charm, and you can see he's trying.

Somewhere along the way, his hand brushes against yours briefly. Then, it happens again, and you decide to bite the bullet. You grasp his hand in yours.

"Is this okay?" You ask when he falls silent.

Carmy doesn't have a lot of experience with girls. He can't even remember the last time he held a girl's hand. All he knows is he doesn't remember ever feeling this good. "Yes, uh, this is okay."

Carmy walks you up to your front door when you reach your house. You unlock the door but stay outside face-to-face with Carmy.

"Thanks for the pizza," you say, fiddling with your fingers. You were about to make one more move for the night. Because as long as Carmy allows you, you'll keep pushing for more.

"Sorry, it wasn't the best," he retorts, rubbing his jaw with his hand. You notice he does that a lot when nervous.

"Your company made up for it," you reassure him, "g'night Carmy." You kiss his cheek goodbye, watching as his cheeks blush.

"Night," he whispers.

As you turn to leave, Carmy stops you by grabbing your wrist, "Wait-uh, can I? Uh-shit. Fuck it." For a second, Carmy shuts out the excessive thoughts in his head and does what he's been dying to do for weeks.

Carmy cups your jaw and kisses you. It's soft and slow. He gives you enough leeway to pull away if it's something you don't want, but you reciprocate eagerly. You've been waiting for this all night.

As confidence surges through his body, Carmy throws an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. You wrap your arms around him, one of your hands resting on his neck, tangling on his curls. The tug of your fingers feels like heaven.

The kiss turns needy and desperate, your lips moving perfectly in sync. His tongue brushes over your lip; Carmy has been dying to test a theory. Are you as sweet as your name?

He's rewarded by a little noise in the back of your throat as he slips his tongue into your mouth. It's endearing, and he finds a way to make you do it again. With heads tilting to deepen the kiss, he concludes he was right. You're pure honey. Sweet and addicting.

When Carmy returns to his apartment, he gets the urge to create, to cook. He wants to bring your taste to life with his cooking. Something with honey.

"I was wondering if you'd want to come to the restaurant for Family and Friends."

You and Carmy are in your little office at Bee Hive. He stands between your legs as you sit on the desk. His lips are slightly red and swollen, and the hair at the nape of his neck is messier than usual.

"Hm, I could be persuaded," you pretend to think as you play with the golden chain around his neck, pulling him towards you.

"Yeah?" Carmy laughs, leaning to brush his lips against yours. When he feels you nod, he closes the small gap between the two of you.

His hands hold your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. He tastes like coffee, which is to be expected from the discarded cup beside you. It's funny how your relationship, if it could be called that, has moved all around Bee Hive from the register to the front and now to your office.

You're at a weird spot where you're not exactly friends because friends don't kiss, but you're not a couple either. It's a situationship for sure. You're content with what you have now, although you'd also love it if Carmy were to ask you to be more. You pin it on him being shy. He'll get around to it.

"What do you say?" Carmy questions as he kisses a trail from your cheek to your jaw.

"Consider me in," you giggle when he kisses a tickly spot.

Carmy brushes a strand of hair out of your face, remaining close to you. This is what he needs. After months of stress and anxiety of having to deal with The Beef, now The Bear, he needed you and your calming presence. Someone removed from the chaos, a safe haven.

He's quiet as his thoughts consume him, and you take the intimate position to fix his gold chain. Turning it so the clasp faces the back instead of the front. "I'm excited, Carmy," you say with a smile, brushing his cheek with your thumb.

"You can bring someone with you," Carmy offers nervously because he realizes he probably won't have the time to spend much time with you. "I-I don't think I'll be around much. I'm sorry. I'd understand if that makes you change your mind," Carmy drops his head as he braces himself for disappointment.

As the weeks pass, you learn more about Carmy and his insecurities. It doesn't deter you from wanting to be with him. Everyone has their issues. "Berzatto, stop. Look at me," you softly divert his attention, "I'd love to go and support you even if it's from the sidelines."

"You sure?" He asks once more.

If reassurance is what he needs, that's what you'll give. "Don't worry about me. This is your moment, Carmy. Enjoy it. I'll be around afterward."

"Thank you for understanding," Carmy responds, stealing one more kiss from you.

When he returns to The Bear, he helps Sydney prep the dishes they finally chose to serve. He notes how everything is laid out and anything they should fix before opening.

Richie struts into the kitchen with a suit on. Apparently, it's his thing now. Carmy figures staging at Chef Terry's restaurant had a good impact on him. All Carmy wanted was to show Richie he had what it takes. That he's not a fuck up.

"Glad to see things are going well with Honey," Richie thunders.

"What are you talking about?" Carmy says in a rush as he plates the lamb expertly.

"That thing on your neck," Richie says, motioning to his own neck. He has a smug look on his face.

"I don't have time for this, cousin," Carmy grumbles, wiping the plate where the sauce might've splattered.

Groaning, Richie grabs one of the new pans and holds it in front of Carmy. "I don't see anything," he frowns, looking at Richie for an explanation.

"Right here," Richie points towards the edge of his t-shirt around his neck.

Carmy pulls it back and finally spots what Richie has been referring to. There is a fading purple bruise on his skin, a hickey. You must've done it when he was back in your office. He'd been too busy touching you to notice.

Sydney, silently watching, pipes up, "No wonder he hasn't been as on edge lately." Carmy shoots her a glare, which causes her to shrug and laugh with a, "What? It's true."

"Ay, yo, Sugar, get in here!" Richie yells down the hall to the office.

"What is it?" Natalie barges in, afraid something went to shit.

Carmy ignores Richie as he babbles to Natalie what he found. His face is red, though, as Sydney nudges his side.

"That's enough about me. We have shit to do," Carmy shouts in his chef's voice.

Everyone in the kitchen, including Richie and Natalie, repeats, "Yes, chef!"

Walking out of the kitchen Richie, 'whispers' to Natalie, "I've always wondered if he likes to be called chef in bed."

"Fuck off, Richie," Natalie glares, but then it falls, and it's replaced with a teasing grin, "He definitely does."

"I heard that! Don't you two have better things to do?" Carmy screams at them.

"Yes, chef!"

Carmy keeps hearing Cicero's 'Uh-oh' throughout the whole day. He understands Cicero, he really does, but to call you a distraction?

His work with The Bear is only starting. They managed to make it to Friends and Family. Now, they have to keep up their best work to fill up the restaurant daily and have a waiting list. His work is far from done. He should listen to Cicero.

Cicero said it with the best of intentions. He doesn't want the Berzatto siblings to fail. He wants to believe they'll succeed and, most importantly, get him his money.

If there is something Cicero has learned throughout the years, it is that girls are distractions. They mean well, but oftentimes, they keep your eyes off the ball. Especially when it's a new relationship like Carmy's. Ultimately, it's up to Carmy to decide what he wants to do. Cicero has played his part by giving him his advice.

One last delivery is made to the restaurant an hour before opening. Richie is the one to receive it and place it in front of Carmy. "She's a keeper, Cousin," he says with a pointed look and a nod. He also wants the best for Carmy, and yet it doesn't align with Cicero.

You knew Carmy would be too stressed and all over the place to eat or drink, so you sent everyone at The Bear a drink and a pastry. One of the cups has Carmen's name with a little heart and 'good luck' written on it.

"Yeah, she is," Carmy sighs, turning the cup in his hands to look at the message. His thumb brushes over your handwriting longingly. Is listening to Cicero the wise thing to do? He's one of the most successful men he knows in his family.

When it's 10 minutes till open, Carmy changes into his uniform and looks in the mirror. His heart is racing, begging for Friends and Family not to be a complete failure. Walking out of the bathroom, Carmy is a man on a mission.

It starts relatively well, but like everything in Carmy's life, the kitchen starts welcoming in the chaos.

They are too slow getting the orders out, which causes Sydney to start doubting herself and asking Carmy to step in. He reassures her she's doing good. They just have to keep up the pace.

Then, one of the new chefs disappears mid-rush. Forcing Tina to work two stations and Marcus to step out of his to help Sydney. Carmy ignores some weird tension between them as he works on ensuring the dishes are good to go.

Next thing he knows, Sugar is rushing into the kitchen, yelling at him about forks. It's wasted time, as he can't do anything about it. A shrill reverberates inside his head as he looks at the ticking clock. It's enough to give him a headache.

With no one to take a dish to its table, Carmy takes it upon himself to do it. There's no time to re-fire or wait for someone. He places it on their table and pours the tea into their cups before retreating with an 'enjoy.'

He looks at his restaurant, and suddenly, the ringing in his head gets louder. Sitting in a booth is his old boss, staring back at him like he did back in New York. Like he was waiting for Carmy to fail.

His voice echoes in Carmy's head. Why are you so fuckin' slow. Hurry up. Go faster motherfucker. Talentless piece of shit.

Right before Carmy spirals, it all goes away. His focus shifts entirely as he sees you taking your seat for the night. The one he chose because he'd be able to see you from the kitchen. You have successfully blocked the mirage he'd conjured up.

You're there with your brother as Richie talks you up, thanking you for coming. As if sensing him, your eyes lock with Carmys. Shyly, you send him a wave, which he returns, thanking you in his head for getting there at the perfect time.

Carmy ducks back to the kitchen with newfound energy. Richie enters shortly after him.

"Chef, your girl is here."

"Thanks, Chef, um, do you have the notepad?" Carmy asks as he continues cleaning dishes and making sure each one is up to par.

"Here you go."

Taking the notepad from Richie, he begins scribbling. I love- No, too fuckin' soon. Thank you for- Nope, it's too stale.

I'm happy you're here, Honey. Wait for me after you're done? -Bear

"Here," Carmy hands it to him without even looking at Richie.

"Keep up the good work, Chefs," Richie yells out to the room before disappearing to the front of the house. The door swinging shut behind him.

"Yes, Chef!"

Something isn't working in the kitchen. They're too backed up, and no matter how hard they try, they're always a tad too slow. Through Sydney surrounding the wheel to Richie, Carmy steals glances out the kitchen window. You're smiling at whatever your brother says, your lips sipping the wine he chose. Carmy can get through this night because, in the end, you'll be waiting for him.

"There he is," you sing as you spot Carmy walking out of the kitchen. The chef's whites back in his locker as he sports his white t-shirt, jeans, and jacket.

Fak, who kept you company while Carmy finished up, speaks up next, "My brother, I'm gonna grab a sandwich and head home. Honey, it was a pleasure meeting you."

"You too, Neil!"

"Thanks for everything," Carmy tells him, giving him a hug and a pat like dudes do.

Carmy turns and grabs your hand to pull you close and kiss your cheek. "What did you think?"

"It was the most delicious thing I've ever tasted," you tell him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

There's a reason Carmy has had so many accolades despite his young age. He has a gift in the kitchen. The moment his food touched your taste buds, your life changed. He and Sydney outdid themselves, and the way everything flowed showed how much work they put into the restaurant.

"You're exaggerating," Carmy modestly says, his arms wrapping around your waist.

"I'm really not," you shake your head, pursing your lips. Carmy can't resist placing a small peck on your red-painted lips.

"What about your famous pizza?"

"No, it might be the best pizza in Chicago, but whatever I ate today topped it," you smile at him, scrunching your nose. "Consider your chef's license reinstated,"

"Thanks," Carmy laughs breathily, "Do you mind if we walk? I feel some of the rush still."

"Lead the way, Mr. Berzatto."

Carmy grabs your hand, leading you to the streets of Chicago. It's silent momentarily as the wind cools Carmy's heated face. He places his hand along with yours into his pocket.

"Did your brother like it?" He asks, breaking the ice.

"Oh yeah. I'm officially like the best sister ever," you respond, squeezing his hand.

You had accidentally forgotten that your brother had passed the Bar exam. So, you didn't have time to get him anything in celebration. You figured dinner at a lovely new restaurant would help while you got him a proper present.

"How did you feel throughout, though? It looked intense." You often found yourself looking through the small glass window into the kitchen. They were always on the move, looking for the next thing to do.

"It didn't just look like it. I'm used to it, though," Carmy admits with a sniff. Everyone's best and worst habits shone through for those couple of hours. It's an environment he's all too familiar with, in and out of the kitchen.

"That rough," you grimace.

"It's fine. We have a lot to work on, but it's a start, and it wasn't entirely terrible," Carmy says, thinking back on tonight. Before coming out to meet you, he wrote down a couple of things to go through with Sugar and Sydney.

"Good, 'cause I hope The Bear sticks around the block," you say, bumping your shoulder with his.

You invite Carmy into your house when you arrive. He takes up your offer, holding your hand to help you balance as you take your heels off. It reminds Carmy he forgot to mention how beautiful you looked today.

He follows you to the kitchen, watching your hips sway and your dress skirt swishing. Padding to the wine fridge, you pick out a bottle of red to celebrate.

Carmy indulges in looking at your legs as you stretch up to reach for the glasses of wine up in your cabinets. His blue eyes darken as your dress hikes up, exposing your pretty thighs.

His gaze darts back up at you when you turn around to place the glasses on the kitchen counter. You hand him the wine opener so he can do the honors because you suck at taking the cork out. It's why you mainly stick to cheaper wines with twist-off caps.

"Here is to The Bear and its amazing owner," you say, lifting your glass in front of you.

"Here's to not fuckin' it up entirely," Carmy follows, making you giggle. Your wine glasses clink, and you take a drink.

Placing the glass back down, Carmy pins you against the counter, his strong hands resting on the edge of it. You look at him through your lashes, a hand coming up to his chest to feel the steady thumping of his heart.

"You look beautiful. I like the dress," Carmy murmurs. It's better late than never.

The dress you wear is a pretty shade of light blue. Simple yet dressy. The neckline gives him a good view of your cleavage and has long sleeves to compensate for the shorter length. They currently cover the goosebumps lining your skin.

"Yeah? I picked it out thinking you might," you reveal, biting your lip. The shade reminded you of his eyes.

"You were right," he whispers, cupping your jaw. As pretty as the dress is, he's sure it'll look so much better on the floor.

Carmy closes his eyes as he leans down to kiss you. He's always struggled with words, so he hopes it's enough for you to catch what he's trying to say.

You smile into the kiss, blindly leaving your glass to the side to be able to touch him. Your palm presses against his chest and taut abdomen. He hides a nice amount of muscle under his t-shirts, a pleasant surprise.

Carmy easily lifts you up to sit down on the kitchen island. He steps between your legs, never breaking the heated kiss. The hands on your waist trail down to your thighs and under your dress. Carmy's tattooed hands squeeze your ass and thighs, earning him a moan from you.

This is the farthest you've ever gotten, and you're more than ready to have all of him. Carmy knows this, which leads to his thoughts getting out of control.

He has to make a decision now. Does he allow himself to be with you, or does he remain by himself like always? Richie's, Sugar's, Cicero's, and Sydney's voices all shout at him different things. Some are in favor, and others are in opposition. 'Uh oh.'

He can't lead you on and sleep with you if he will back out tomorrow. The voices become deafening in an instant, ripping him away from your embrace. His emotions bubbled over and spilled all over the place.

"Wait, stop, I just-" Carmy breathes heavily, taking a couple of steps back from you. Carmy's hand comes up to his forehead as he attempts to organize his thoughts.

"What's wrong?" You ask worriedly. Did you do something wrong?

Carmen's thoughts spill out his mouth without making much sense as he paces in your kitchen. "I can't stop thinking about it and owe it to my team..."

"Carm?" You slide off the kitchen counter, approaching him slowly.

"-keeps saying it's a distraction," he rambles mostly to himself. His heart is pounding painfully in his chest. If he didn't know any better, he'd think he was having a heart attack.

"Hey, hey, hey. What's a distraction?" Softly, you grab onto his arms, stopping him in his tracks, trying to find his lost gaze.

"You. Whatever this is," Carmy breathes, finally meeting your eyes, which he instantly regrets as your eyes turn sad.

The watering of your eyes is unintentional, as is the knot forming in your throat. "You think I'm distracting you?" You question barely above a whisper.

His response is instant, "Fuck, no, the opposite. W-When I'm with you or-or think about you, things get clearer, and it's-it's when I feel the most focused." Carmy holds your shoulders, comforting you because he never meant to hurt you. He can't stand the sad look in your eyes.

Slowly, you begin to piece together his rambling and conclude that other people have been telling him you're a distraction. You wonder if they don't want him to be happy. The Bear is the center of Carmy's life, and before that, it was the restaurant in New York. He deserves more than this crazy job.

"Then fuck what others tell you, Carmen. You deserve to have a life outside The Bear." Maybe you're selfish because you don't want to lose him, but you hope he believes your words.

"I-I don't. I don't deserve all your attention or your affection. I'm nothing special. I don't deserve you." Carmy says, shaking his head with furrowed brows.

Weeks ago, he had no source of enjoyment. He said it himself at the support group. Now, he has you, yet he can't bear the thought of you wanting to be with him. He feels like he's tricking you into a bad deal. That's what he is, though, isn't he? An overachieving fuck up with tons upon tons of baggage.

Carmen Berzatto is an anxious person with too many problems in his life. He has a fucked up family. His mother is a mentally unstable alcoholic. His brother was addicted to painkillers and decided that shooting himself on a bridge was better than living this life. That's without mentioning all the trauma he has from his job and the terrible people he's worked with.

What good does he have to offer you?

"Yes, you do," you reassure him, placing your hands on his cheeks. The cool metal of your rings soothes him somewhat, grounding him. "You deserve all that and more, Carmy. You're so sweet and kind and hard-working. You've been through shit. You deserve something good in life. Maybe it's me, or maybe it's not, but don't close yourself off."

You're begging at this point. Whatever this relationship is, it's just starting. He's not giving himself a chance. You like Carmy so damn much. He's funny without knowing it and thoughtful, too. There are so many qualities he doesn't realize he has.

His eyes watch you as tears line them. He's silently pleading for you to convince him. To get him out of his own head and forget the expectations others have on him.

"I'm not going to force you into anything, Carm. It's your call, but I've enjoyed our last couple of months together. I know we don't know each other completely, but I want to know everything about you. I have feelings for you, so whatever you decide, I'll support it."

Being honest is all you can do at this point. You pour your heart out and hope Carmy chooses you.

You and Carmy stand in the middle of your kitchen. Face to face, reaching out towards each other. It's clear as day that you want the same thing. It's only a matter of taking the right steps now.

"I can't let you go," Carmy responds, grabbing the hand on his cheek. His thumb brushes over the back of it.

"Then don't."

Carmy's decision is made. Without another thought, he smashes his lips against yours. He grabs the back of your neck, tilting your head to meet his heated kiss.

It's more intense now that the cards are on the table. Nothing to hold him back.

Tongues clash together as your bodies seek each other out. The temperature rises when Carmy lifts you up to wrap your legs around his hips. His hands are on the back of your thighs, holding tight onto you.

"Bedroom?" He asks, breaking the kiss, a trail of saliva between the two of you.

"Down the hallway," you breathe heavily, kissing down his neck.

Carmy makes it to the bedroom, opening the door with a bang. He spots your bed, placing you in the middle with him holding himself up on top of you.

He watches as your back meets the bed and your fair fans around you like a halo. The curvature of your breasts accentuated even more from the position.

Carmy hikes your leg further up his hips as he dips down to kiss a wet trail down to the neckline of your dress. He leaves open-mouthed kisses on the rounded flesh, nipping at the skin playfully when you arch your back to push more into him.

"Carmy," you breathe, cupping his jaw to pull him back to your lips. Grinding your hips, you manage to graze against his bulge.

"Shit," Carmy shakily curses, thrusting his hips to meet your touch once more.

Curiously, your hands wander across his body. Carmy's moans in your ear make your panties wetter than they already are.

You grasp the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and off. You're desperate to have him, your cunt aches for him. Your nails scratch down his firm stomach when he bites into your earlobe, softly calling your name.

"Unzip me," you pant, pushing him away and pulling your hair off to the side.

Carmy grabs the small zipper, pushing it down and exposing your pretty skin. As he slides the fabric off of you, he kisses your shoulders and back, taking note of the goosebumps on your skin.

His mind is in the present, and nothing can take it away from him. It's like a switch he managed to turn off in his brain. No more family drama, no more The Bear. It's just you...and him. Honey and Bear.

You stretch your neck to the side, giving Carmy more space to pepper kisses across the delicate skin. The dress pooling at your feet exposes your chest, and Carmy's hands come up from behind you. His fingers shyly brush up your stomach, tickling you, until they find your breasts.

He draws a moan from you as he squeezes them in his palms, pushing you back to meet his chest; turning your head to the side, you find his lips.

The kiss breaks when he slides one of his hands into your underwear, dipping his finger to feel your wetness. Your arm reaches back to dig your fist in his curls.

"You're soaked, Honey," he moans, finding your clit to tease it.

"Been waiting for so long, Carmy," you whine as your hips stutter along with the flicks of his wrist.

"I'm sorry. I'm here now," he purrs into your ear.

Carmy can hear the distinct 'shlick, shlick, shlick' of his fingers against your clit. It spurs him on as he slips a finger into you. He can't wait to have his cock inside of you, snug and warm.

"Oh my god, Carmen," you gasp when he prods another finger into your entrance. Hanging onto his arm across your chest, you roll your hips against his fingers.

"I got you," he says, digging his fingers deeper into you and curling them.

Your knees buckle as the tips of his fingers curl and hit your g spot repeatedly. If it weren't for him, you'd be on the floor. With your tummy tensing under the weight of the pleasure, you stutter out, "I'm gonna cum."

Carmy's hand is wet from your juices as he ups the ante. Just as your walls begin to squeeze around his fingers, he pulls them out to circle around your clit.

"Oh, f-fuck!" You squeal, throwing your head back onto his shoulder.

The way your clit softly twitches under the pads of his fingers fucks with Carmy. It makes his cock throb and leak into his jeans.

Untangling from his embrace, you place a breathless kiss on Carmy's lips. His slick digits dig into your hips as he prolongs it.

Blindly, you find the edge of his jeans and unbutton them. If Carmy notices, he doesn't say anything. You want to give him one more reason to stay with you.

He moans into your mouth when you grasp his length through his boxers. He's rock hard as he desperately ruts against your hand.

With your hold still on him, you push him to sit on the bed. Carmy looks up at you lustfully. You plant a single short kiss on his lips before kneeling on the floor between his legs. You leave love bites down his chest while looking up at him through your lashes.

Carmy brushes away any hair that falls on your face, his blue eyes focused solely on you. When you reach the waistband of his pants, you pull them down along with his underwear.

His length pops up from its confines, slapping against his tummy. Its tip is a pretty pink shade, with a thick length and a slight curve to it. You salivate instantly at the sight of it.

Carmy's nervous under you. It's been a long since he's been with someone else, and he's never been the most confident.

"Relax," you say teasingly, kissing around his lower tummy to calm him.

Finally, your hand wraps around his cock, lightly pumping it. Leaving sloppy kisses down his happy trail, you feel Carmy's stomach taut in anticipation.

It's been so fuckin' long.

With your eyes staring into his hungry ones, you kiss the pink head that glistens with pre, teasingly brushing it against your lips. Keeping eye contact, you lick his length from base to tip. You alternate between kissing and licking for a minute, enjoying watching Carmy squirm.

"Fuck, Honey," Carmy throws his head back at your torturous pace.

"Look at me," you sweetly say.

Taking mercy on him, you part your lips to take his length into your warm, wet mouth, bobbing your head to a steady rhythm. Prying one of Carmy's hands from the bedsheets, you place it in your hair, encouraging him to use you.

"Good girl," he moans, fisting your hair to force you to take more of his cock. You let your hands rest on his thighs, feeling the strong muscles underneath.

Carmen observes you with hooded eyes as you hollow your cheeks, sucking him expertly. He's obsessed with how your lips leave behind a tinge of red lipstick on his skin.

"Shit-Fuck me," he yells into the room when you swallow around him.

You want him to cum, but Carmy has other plans. He doesn't think he'll last long if you make him cum now, so after the stunt you pulled, he pulls you off his sensitive cock.

The sight in front of him is erotic as a string of saliva connects you to his cock. The tears lining your eyes and blushed nose add to that pretty picture.

"c'me 'ere," he says, helping you up and kissing you as he leads you back to the bed. He tugs off your wet panties, throwing them somewhere in the room.

You lay back on your pillows with Carmy slotted between your legs. It's torture having him so close and yet so far. Now that you've gotten a taste of his cock you need more.

Carmy touches the inside of your thighs, inching his way closer to your cunt. He instantly notices how fuckin' wet you are. You're dripping even more than before.

"Sucking me off, got you this wet, princess?" He asks, leaning his forehead against yours.

"Mhm, Carmy, wish you would've cum in my mouth," you admit, tilting your head up to brush your lips against his.

"You have such a dirty fuckin' mouth," he chuckles darkly.

Where did this side of you come from? You're usually so sweet and delicate. He should've known you would be a freak in bed. To think he almost let this all go.

"Carmen, please."

"Please, what?" Carmen teases, lining his cock against your opening, wetting his cock.

"Fuck me," you moan, kissing his jaw.

"'m gonna fuck you good, princess," he promises, with a shaky nod before he remembers, "Fuck! I-I don't have a condom with me."

"I should have some in my drawer," you mention breathlessly.

Carmy opens the condom in record time but is surprised when you take it from his hands and roll it down his shaft yourself. You just want an excuse to keep touching him.

With your leg hiked up, he aligns himself and slowly pushes in. You both gasp at the sensation. Carmy, for one, is trying to not bust a nut so soon because you're so tight and warm.

Meanwhile, you hold onto Carmy's back as he stretches you out. It's been so long, and your toys aren't nearly as thick as him. You breathily moan in his ear, which he takes as a good sign as he begins thrusting more forcefully and deeper.

Carmy hopes this isn't a dream, and if it is, he hopes he doesn't wake up anytime soon. He has one hand holding onto your thigh and the other holding himself up. His gold chain dangles above you as he picks his head up from its spot on your shoulder. You take the chance to tug on it, returning his attention to your lips.

"You feel so fuckin' good, princess," Carmy groans, squeezing your thigh.

"I love your cock, Carmy," you whine, feeling the drag of his cock on your walls. The pleasure is all-consuming, leaving a fuzzy feeling in your brain.

"You like when I fuck you like this?"

"Yes, yes, yes, keep going."

His hips snap hard against yours, hitting that spot each and every time. His pelvis hitting your clit. He squeezes your thigh, hips, and sides before his hand squeezes your tits, too, playing with your nipples.

Suddenly, he straightens up, pulling you down the bed to have you flushed against his pelvis. He's a sight for sore eyes that forces you to keep your eyes open.

His thrusts are more forceful like this, where he digs his fingers into the fat of your hips to pull you towards him with each snap. It makes your tits bounce, hypnotizing him.

Through your lustful gaze, he looks like a marble statue. His chest glimmers under the lowlights of your room as sweat clings to him, his chain jumping against the blushed skin of his chest, and his fucking hair falling over his pretty eyes. The set of his jaw could've been sculpted by Michaelangelo himself.

Your hands indulgently reach down to touch him in any way you can. You can only reach his stomach, where a nice pair of abs appear due to the effort.

"You like what you see?" Carmy teases. He's entirely lost on you because otherwise, he wouldn't be as cocky to say that.

"You're so handsome," you pitifully say. Your brain not computing as it should, but how can it when it's being fucked out of you?

Carmy doesn't know how to respond. It's not often he's called handsome or looked at as lustfully as you're looking at him. Thankfully, he doesn't need to say much as your eyes roll back and you squeeze your walls around him.

"Carmy, I'm so close," you pant, trying to find any part of him to hold. He offers you his hand, lacing your fingers together.

"Just a little longer, princess," Carmy groans as you clench around him. "Fuck, don't do that to me."

He glances down at the spot where you and him meet to see a ring of white on the base of his cock. He's enthralled with the way you stretch to accommodate him and the way your pink walls drag along his length when he pulls out. Fuckin' beautiful.

Putting all his knowledge to use, he thumbs your clit, making you jolt. He needs you to cum now, or he won't make it. His balls feel like they're about to burst.

"Carmy," you cry out, tightening the hold on his hand.

You teeter on the edge for only a second until you cum, waves of pleasure washing over you. Carmy curses from above you as your tightening walls choke his cock, making him cum too. He stutters his hips a couple more times, riding out his orgasm.

He leans back down again, catching your lips in a small kiss. His body slowly relaxes against yours as his head rests on your neck, breathing in the scent of sweat and perfume.

"That was good," you breathe heavily, rubbing your hands up and down your back. You're just starting to think clearly.

"Fuckin' amazing," he adds.

There's a beat of silence before you both burst out laughing.

A bubble encases you, and it can't be popped as long as you stay in your bedroom. Carmy doesn't want to leave; it's late already, and in a couple of hours, he has to get up and go to The Bear to repeat the process.

For once, he forgets about that and focuses solely on you. He has a couple of hours to spare. Sleep is overrated.

You face each other on the bed, talking in hushed whispers. Your fingers trace the '773' tattoo on his bicep like you've always wanted to do. It tickles Carmy, so he grabs your hand and kisses your palm.

"Now that I'm thinking about it. I didn't see your tattoo," he whispers to prevent disturbing the peace.

Your face warms at his words. You had forgotten about that. He's seen a lot of you in the past couple of hours. What's a bit more of skin?

"You missed my big bad tattoo?" you joke, poking his nose.

"Show me," he says with a lopsided smile.

You make it dramatic, rolling your eyes and giving him a big sigh. Sitting up on the bed, you peel the bed sheets from your body. Carmy props himself up on his elbow in anticipation.

Right there, on your left side and under the curve of your breast is a small outline of Winnie the Pooh's face. Carmy touches it, biting his lip to hold back a laugh. Unsurprisingly, it's precisely what he expected from you.

A few chuckles pass his lips as he pulls you back into his arms.

"Don't laugh. It made sense at the time," you whine, covering yourself back up.

Carmy pulls you to his chest, kissing your temple, "I'm sure it does. Pooh Bear loves his Honey," Just like he does.

"Exactly! Someone gets it!"

And he does because Carmy, aka The Bear, is quickly falling for his Honey.

A couple of days later, Carmy is back at your house helping you prepare the famous pizza you promised him. He lets you take the lead on everything, preferring to follow your instructions rather than let his mind run wild. It's not like you'll let him do most of the work anyway; it's your recipe, and you're protective over it.

"Can you chop up the veggies?" You ask him as you lay down the dough in a pan.

"Yes, Chef," he nods, kissing your cheek as he digs through your kitchen drawers for a knife.

"Oh, I like the sound of that," you muse, shaking your shoulders as you knead the dough to spread it.

"Don't let it get to your head, Hun," Carmy smiles, slicing the vegetables expertly.

Cooking with Carmy is surprisingly easier than you thought. He's not controlling over the kitchen or judgy. He lets you do your thing in peace, following your orders no matter how strange they might be. This is your kitchen, not his.

As you spread the sauce and cheese over one of the doughs, Carmy gets a call. He wipes his hands with a rag and picks it up. You only hear his side of the conversation.

"No, I'm off tonight. I'm with my girl. Call Sugar. She should be able to help you with that. Great. Thanks."

Carmy had promised himself that he would try to balance it all better. He has his team to help each other out. The Bear is a priority, but so are you because you help him keep whatever sanity he has left.

Carmy hangs up, and when he returns to you, he notices the grin on your lips as you put the toppings he chopped on the pizza.

"What's with the smile?" Carmy stands behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he props his head on your shoulder. Your hair tickles his nose, smelling the notes of coconut of your shampoo he digs his head farther into it.

"I'm your girl?" You ask, the smile still present on your face. He'd missed your initial reaction when you heard him call you 'my girl.' You almost dropped the container of pepperoni that was in your hands. It's a shock cause he never asked you to be his girl.

Carmy pauses and tenses up against you. "Uh, yes? Hold up. Turn around," he orders, as he places his hand on your hips to turn your body around.

"Yes, chef," you respond cheekily, your arms around his neck, careful not to touch his sweater with your messy hands.

"Aren't you my girl?" He frowns, rubbing a thumb over your hips.

"I could be, but I don't remember you asking," you pretend to think.

Carmy never directly asked you to be his girlfriend, and you never asked him to be your boyfriend. You might as well be a couple since you've been dating long enough. You decide to seize the opportunity now to get it out of him. Having a proper anniversary day would be nice because you hope this lasts.

"I see, my mistake," Carmy nods, catching your vibe, "Honey…"

"Yes, Carmy?" You blink innocently at him.

"Would you do me the honor of becoming my girlfriend?" He finally asks.

You could joke around but decided against it cause the moment is perfect, "I'd love to," you nod, giving him a small kiss.

When the pizza is cooked, you bring it over to the dining table. Serving Carmy a pretty slice. Excitedly, you wait for him to bite into it and taste it.

"What do you think?" You ask expectantly.

"You were right. Best pizza in Chicago," Carmy agrees with an unbelievable laugh. He's got a lot to learn from you. It's the truth, or maybe he's blinded by his feelings. Only time will tell where you and Carmy will end up.

The End?

thank you guys for pulling through and reading! i know it's a slow burn but i hope you liked it! i certainly enjoyed writing it even though it took me like 4 months.

if you liked it, i would appreciate you liking it, commenting or reblogging. if you have some feedback feel free to send it my way too. i wanna get better at this whole writing thing!

thank you! bye xx

[rueclfer]

casual // touya todoroki part 2

when the boy you're in love with wants to keep it casual.

a/n: i was fighting for my life while writing this 😭 pray for her (and me while i write... part 3? HEHE)

part one part three

You made your way up the fire escape, the cold air and icy railing nipping at the bare skin of your neck and face for the short travel up a level.

From outside of his window, you took a second to admire the scene. Tenko was sitting criss crossed on the couch while cradling a beer in his lap, and directly across from him is Spinner on the ottoman with their switches out- in which you could only assume was playing super smash bros. Toga was at the kitchen bar taste testing Kurogiri's mixed drinks, and everyone else plus a few more unfamiliar faces were drunkenly draped over the couch, laughing at one another.

You continue peering around the room for Touya. No one else had noticed your presence outside the window quite yet.

"Looking for someone?" A deep voice snaps you from your search.

You look up to see Touya sitting on a step another level up.

"God, Touya." You shutter from the cold breeze. "What are you doing out here? It's freezing."

"Needed some air." He shrugs, crinkling a bottle of water in his hands. "Not going inside?"

You climb your way up to him, taking a seat right beside him. In the moonlight, his silver hair glowed blue, and at a closer look, the tip of his nose and cheeks were dusted with pink.

"Was just about to before you ambushed me." You smile at his tipsy state. "How much have you drank?" You pressed a hand to his cheek, making him melt into it from the warmth.

"Enough, and not enough at the same time." He chuckles, grabbing your remaining hand and pressing it against his other cheek.

"Fuck, you're warm." A sigh of relief escapes his lips.

"Can I kiss you?"

Fuck

You had just told Toga that you were done running in circles around him, but in this moment with the buzzing lamp post drilling into your head and his swollen lips mere inches from yours, it was almost an offer you couldn't turn down. Do you close the gap between you two and continue this charade or will you end it now?

In a perfect world, you wouldn't have to make this decision now- you wouldn't ever have to, but you loved him. Desperately.

You looked at him, deeply. His bloodshot and glossy eyes, an effect of the alcohol, were peering right into yours while waiting for your answer.

You could savor this forever- a rare moment where he's the one waiting for you.

After a beat of silence, he sensed your hesitation and leaned back, searching your face for an answer for your off behavior, because Touya knew that the answer would've always been a yes- undeniably so.

"What's wrong?"

I love you.

"Nothing." You force a reassuring smile. "Why?"

"I don't know. You looked like you were about to cry for a second there." He moves his hand to your face now, rubbing his ice cold thumbs against your cheek. "Maybe I'm just drunk." He smiles.

He pulls your head in to press a kiss on your hairline. "Also, I saw Fuyumi today. She said hey."

"I'll text her later." You couldn't help but feel a twinge of warmth knowing that you came up in conversation with his sister.

"Were you not gonna come tonight?"

"Hmmm I don't think so" You casually say "I was kinda busy, but the fomo was kicking."

"Works out in my favor." He chuckles. "You wanna go inside? Toga said she was expecting you."

He starts standing up, gripping onto the railing to stabilize himself. With his other hand, he extends it out for you.

"Yeah I owe her a shot. That is, if she's not already fucked up." You grab onto his hand and hoist yourself up.

"In that case, I'll cash in the shot in her place." He wraps his arm around your waist, helping you down the frosty steps.

Once you made it through the window, your body instantly warmed up with the thick air of the apartment. Across from the kitchen, Toga spots you and squeals to herself, motioning for you to come to her.

"Kurogiri's been showing me how to make drinks!" She grins, panning her arm to the array of mixed drinks and shots sitting on the counter.

"Christ, Toga who's going to drink all that?" Touya mutters behind you as he moves into the kitchen.

"Y/N and I, duh!" She rolls her eyes before passing you a glass with a shots worth of pale pink liquid.

You swallowed your hesitation and glanced over to Touya, who was leaning up against the refrigerator watching you with a slight smile.

Seeing his pretty face was not a good reminder for yourself as to why you were here in the first place. Nonetheless, you and Toga clink your glasses together and down the first shot.

You cough into your sleeve, letting the burn warm your skin and help settle into your nerves. You shoot her a warning glance when she slides another drink into your hands.

"Oh so you're trying to kill me tonight, huh?" You down the new drink, pinching your nose as the lukewarm liquid burns its way down your throat. You slide the empty glass to her just for her to replace it with more alcohol.

"If there's one way to cure a sad girl, it's alcohol." Toga clinks your glasses together before finishing off her's.

"I only promised you one shot!" You pushed the glass away. "I'm a lightweight, let me take a breather unless you want me on my ass in half an hour."

"Okay fine" She pouts. "Just finish this one and we'll stop."

You grimaced, but she shot you a knowing look. You needed this. You needed a night to not think and worry about repercussions later.

"Fuck you." You sigh, clinking your glass with her. "And I love you."

After the last shot, your head clouded and your skin went hot. You pulled out a bar stool to sit and propped your head in your hands, watching Toga and Kurogiri talk about the mixtures and types of alcohol they were experimenting with.

Maybe the last shot was overkill, but 3 shots in 5 minutes meant that you'll be sober in a couple hours? You hoped so, at least.

"If she starts throwing up, I'm gonna kick everyone out." Touya jokes.

"You think I'm done?" Toga starts. "Touya, you have to finish the rest of these drinks with me."

Touya kept his distance on the other side of the the kitchen, chatting and drinking with Kurogiri and Toga all while glancing your way every now and then.

You were confident that everyone in this apartment knew about your entanglement with Touya, but with any outings and functions, PDA and other romantic gestures were kept to a minimum. You kept your distance, but this last shot started to feel like you needed a moment alone with Touya.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

At some point when the alcohol had fully settled in your stomach, you decided to get up and wander around the apartment while everyone else was occupied.

You slowly go through the main hallway, looking at the framed band posters hung up that you had seen about a hundred times.

At the end of the hall, there was your favorite piece of decoration he had- a framed photo of him and his high school garage band at one of their practices. His hair was dyed midnight black and his jeans were all sorts of torn up and embellished with spikes and chains. Every time you came over, you had to look at it at least once. You always told him that you wished you met him at this age, and that he could've broken your heart, but he insists that he would've never been able to pull you in the first place.

You continue your walk, staying close to the wall to keep your balance before you finally made it to his bedroom. You step in and takes deep breath, savoring the crisp pine and green apple that lingered from his cologne.

If you had been sober, you probably wouldn't be bold enough to sneak off to his bedroom in the middle of the get together, but you were sure that he would rather you lay in his bed than the bathroom floor.

You flop down and close your eyes for a moment of solitude. You made a mental note to curse Toga out for getting you this tipsy when it was only supposed to be one drink.

"How did I know I could find you here?"

You instantly recognized the voice and the chuckle that paired with it.

"Shut up." You muttered, keeping your eyes closed. "If you didn't let me drink so much, I wouldn't have to crash here."

"So sorry, pretty girl. My fault." You feel the bed shift as he crawls onto the bed to sit beside you. "I brought something for you."

You open your eyes and sit up to see him holding out a red solo cup. You shoot him a glare.

"It's water, before you say anything."

You release a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

You downed the water in one go, letting the cold liquid bring you back to life. You lean over to set the empty cup on his bedside table before letting yourself lay back down. Touya follows suit, propping himself up on his elbow.

"You feeling okay?" He brings his hand up to your cheek, lightly brushing away stray hairs.

You nodded your head, letting yourself soak in his light touches. Looking up at him from this angle made your stomach twist. You reached up and held his hand on your cheek, letting your thumb brush over his knuckles.

"Can I have a kiss?" You turned towards him, propping yourself up to face him.

He smiles and leans in, pressing a soft and gentle kisses on your lips and cheeks.

"Should I kick everyone out?" He whispers between kisses. "Just you and me tonight. I'll take care of you."

"Aren't you drunk too?" You prop yourself up, leaning over him and making him fall back on the bed.

"Yeah but not multiple-shots-in-the-span-of-2-seconds drunk like you."

You drag your finger down his nose bridge, tracing it down to his lips where he gives your finger a kiss. You replace your finger with you own lips, letting your hand fall to cup the side of his neck.

"Say the word and all of those fuckers will be out of here." He silently mutters against your lips.

In your mind, you were screaming at yourself. You wanted the night with him, but you couldn't bear doing this to yourself anymore. Every night spent with him and watching him leave through your window made your self worth crumble bit by bit.

"Enticing offer." You smile, sitting upright now. "But I think I might have to throw up."

His eyes widen in fear. "And you're telling me this now?"

He sits up and hops off the bed, pulls you off with him by the arms. "Idiot. Sweet, beautiful idiot." He presses a kiss to your temple before ushering you to his bathroom.

He helps you kneel down in front of the toilet before running out to grab more water.

You sit there for a moment before dry heaving into the toilet a few times. Nothing. With every cough, you cringed at yourself. Here you were, at a party you didn't even want to go to, gagging in the bathroom of someone who doesn't love you back.

You knew you truly didn't have to throw up, maybe just gag it out a bit, but you mainly needed to step away from Touya to clear your mind. Tomorrow, when you would have to tell Toga about how you folded is going to be a whole separate issue for you after tonight.

In the corner of your eye, you saw a glistening black rectangular object lay next to his trash can. You reach over to grab it, revealing itself to be a tube of berry red lipstick. You felt sick to your stomach, but for a different reason now.

In your drunken state and the alcohol running through your veins, you felt yourself choking up with tears. You knew you weren't the only one, but now that it was right in your face, there was no more pretending that you were. God, how stupid you felt.

"Get it together, Y/N. It was never going to work out." You thought to yourself.

You began to stand up, stumbling while doing so. Right as you steady yourself on the the door frame, Touya comes back in with a glass of water in his hands.

"Done already?" He asked, peering over your shoulder to see the damage.

You say nothing and move around him to get pass He sets the glass down and grabs your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks.

"Where are you going?" His eyes widened once he see the tears streaming down your cheeks.

"What's wrong?" He says a bit quieter.

You choked out a laugh before showing him the object in your palm. "One of your girlfriends left this."

He gives you a puzzled look. "Okay? And you're upset over this? Why?"

"Are you serious, Touya? You're asking me why I'm upset over finding another girl's lipstick in your bathroom." You purse your lips,

He runs a hand through his hair, and releases a long sigh of air. "Y/N. This thing between us...it's casual. You know that. You can't get mad at me for that when we both agreed to it."

"Casual?" You spit back. "Is it casual that you're always coming to my window at 12am to fuck and talk about our futures? Is it casual when your siblings invite me over for dinner? Is it casual when you leave your front door open for me?" You exclaim. "It just doesn't make sense to me."

You storm out of his room to find that his apartment empty of your friends. He wasn't lying earlier, after all.

"Come on, Y/N." He follows you out "We were friends before anything else. In the beginning, Toga told me that you had a little crush on me, and I thought it was cute, but I didn't think it would turn out like this."

You make your way to the window, almost ready to jump out from embarrassment. A crush.. a little crush.

You rub your face in your hands. "You see, that's the problem, Touya. I think I'm in love with you, and you think I'm cute. Is it still casual?"

You step out onto the fire escape, and look back at him. This whole time you were avoiding his gaze, but there he was, his eyes wide and mouth gaped open watching you disappear from his fire escape for the last time.

tags: @bumblebeebutter @whitneys-favorite-slut @randomrosie01 @yuwuuta @raquel-star @the2ndl @vixendeery

[gojos-version]

Best friends?

Pairings- Y/N x Satoru Gojo

Summary- You and Satoru are best friends and got into a very interesting (and lewd) activity! Endings soft.

Warnings- Smut, mating press, pet names (sweetheart, baby, princess), kissing, tummy bulge, porn without plot (kinda)

Word count- 525

Proof read ✅

a/n- HIIIII I had alot of fun writing this, i was thinking of doing smut with plot but decided not to and yes i made this at 4am 🥺🥺anyways this is my 2nd fic! Feel free to drop any requests <33 my inbox is open :)

⋆ ✩°｡⋆ 𖦹｡˚ ⋆ ✮ ༺ ⟡ ݁₊ ⊹ ა ✧ ໒ ⊹ ₊ ݁ ݁⟡ ༻ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ⊰⊱ ✩°｡⋆ 𖦹｡˚ ⋆

Friends weren't supposed to fuck each other. They weren't supposed to enjoy it this much. 

But it's hard not to enjoy it when Satoru's hips are ramming into yours with a lewd plap! Plap! Plap! Plap! Your eyes unfocused and bleary as he continued his merciless thrusts. "F-fuck! S-so good- shit!" Satoru whimpers into your neck, one hand holding your hip to stabilise it and the other on top of your tummy right where you can feel him deep inside of you. The tummy bulge making itself prominent with each thrust he slams into you. Your legs burn as you hold them to your chest to feel him oh so deep inside of you. You feel your eyes roll back into your head and your back arching, "S-satoru- s-slow down- a-ah!" You almost scream out. "S-shit she's so loud, listen to her" Satoru grunts, listening to your wet pussy making the most pornographic sounds you'd find in a fake video. But oh it was so real. Your slick covers both of your thighs and drips on the mattress under where you're both connected.

"C-cant! A-ah!" You moan out, your body feels like jelly all you can do is just sit there and take it. "N-no baby, please hold on- please- f-fuck!" Satoru cries out into your neck. Heat feels both of your bodies as you get closer and closer. Something snaps making Satorus thrusts somehow even faster. "I-im g-gonna! S-satoru-!" You scream out gripping his shoulders. "Yeahhhhh atta girl, come for me..let go you can do it- shit!" He hisses feeling himself on the brink. And oh it feels so good. So right but so wrong. But at this moment you couldn't find it in yourself to care. Your body feels like it's on fire, like electricity shooting throughout your body as pleasure overtakes all your senses. "I-i'm! O-oh! S-satoru-" you gasp out, clenching around him as you feel yourself give into the white pleasure taking over. Your eyes roll back and shut seeing white, as you start shaking. You don't even feel Satoru finish inside of you for the nth time tonight.

"S-shit baby are you okay?" Satoru whimpers out, holding you close to him. You open your eyes and blink foggily at him, he kisses your forehead chastely. You wince as he pulls out softly feeling his cum drip out of you. There was so much of it, it was almost like a pool. "Let me get you cleaned up, sweetheart." You feel his body leaves yours but he's back before you know it, cleaning you off. "I'll run a bath for you, alright princess? Then we can rest." Satoru says, looking up at you for confirmation and you nodded your head softly. After he runs the bath, he picks you up bride style and slowly puts you in the bath, sitting behind you and massaging your hair. It feels too good. He was your best friend but right now it feels like you're more than that. You probably are after having sex, right? You feel your eyelids close as you hum softly. Maybe being more than best friends wouldn't be so bad.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊ੈ

Masterlist <3

[pretty-circa006]

I guess your bio clearly states you write for Negan, but it doesn't explicitly state you write only for Negan. So I'm thinking I should just ask. Are you open to writing a dadsbsf!Rick and dadsbsf!Negan x reader fic, they have a rivalry and are always trying to one up eachother to get in the readers good graces, but little do they know you already want them (both) and you get them (both). Ik this isn't something you normally write and it's totally fine with multiple partners. But you're clearly a great writer and I just had to ask. It's totally fine you don't take this request or even ignore it. But if you were to write could do something with an age gap and a minx reader and mean Rick and Negan but only during steamy, but otherwise they sprinkle their lives on you.(Maybe this could be series or something it doesn't have to be oneshot and you could your time exploring the idea, idk why I'm so passionate about this lol)

Thanks, for hearing me out, believe me ik this a tall order. Again it's totally fine if you ignore this!!!

P.s idk why I added the photos I'm sorry 😭😭😭😭(them trying to mark their territory trying to make the other back off of you???)

dadsbsf! Negan x F! Reader x dadsbsf! Rick

summary Negan and Rick are over at your house, joining your dad for a game of poker. tags gambling, mentions of smoking and alcohol consumption, age gap (reader is college aged and Rick and Negan are kinda old...like late 40s early 50s?)

wc 2.3k

note i really liked this request and i hope i interpreted it correctly, if not, i sincerely apologize! just fyi, i plan on making this multiple parts, which is why there's no smut....YET! :P

*you are responsible for your own content consumption. if this is something you DO NOT like, simply DO NOT read or interact! :) *

She loves summer. It's more so what comes with it, rather than the season itself. Being back home from college and finally having her own space in her own room and her own bathroom with her own shower. Most of all, she loves the late nights in her backyard, swimming in the pool beneath the bright stars, cicadas buzzing and crickets chirping in the background. 

Tonight's one of those nights. The dark, starry, cloudless sky accompanies her she floats on her back around the pool, enjoying the peace of the summer night. All she's missing is a nice midnight snack. The warm, humid nighttime air feels good against her wet skin as she climbs out the pool. She forgot to bring a towel with her when she came out earlier, but that doesn't matter since she's getting right back in anyway. Barefoot, she saunters across the soft grass to the sliding glass door that leads into her house. 

"Honey, where's your towel? You're dripping all over the floor," her dad complains as soon as she steps inside. Feeling the freezing air conditioning on her wet body also has her wishing she brought a towel. 

"Sorry, I forgot, but I..." She trails off, finally noticing that her dad isn't alone and that he's at the dining room table with his best friends, Rick and Negan, in the middle of a game of poker. 

"Hi, Rick...Negan," she awkwardly greets, folding her arms over her chest, suddenly feeling naked in front of the two. 

"I'll be right back, gonna go grab her a towel," her dad explains, excusing himself from the table. 

"Late night swim?" Negan teases while shamelessly eyeing the freezing girl's half-naked body. Her face grows hot as she feels his hazel eyes undressing what little clothing she has on. 

"Why don' you join us for a game?" Rick suggests with a pat to the seat beside him. 

"But I dunno how to play." Despite this, she takes the seat anyway. Rick pulls the chair closer to him until he can't anymore. 

"I'ma teach ya how." This earns a scoff from Negan. 

"Doll, you don't want this fuckin' prick teachin' ya how to play poker." 

"This comin' from the idiot who lost five hundred dollars last time we played," Rick fires back. Negan rolls his eyes and flips him the bird. 

She bursts into a fit of giggles at their rivalry. "I think I'll stick with Rick. I don't have much money to lose." 

Her dad finally comes back into the room, towel in hand. He tosses it at her and it lands over her head like a ghost costume. 

"Hey!" she huffs as she fixes the towel properly around her shoulders. Her father just huffs a laugh at her plight. 

"Rick's gonna teach me how to play poker," she tells her dad excitedly. He grimaces which earns a snicker from Negan. 

"If ya want any chance at winnin', you'll have your ol' man to teach ya, but hey," he raises his hands in mock surrender before taking his seat. 

“I’m stickin' with Rick.” Rick gives her a soft smile and places his large hand on her thigh. Shivers run down her spine, and she’s sure it’s not from the air conditioning. 

“You can jus’ watch this game and we’ll deal you into the next.” She nods in agreement and leans over Rick’s shoulder to look at his cards -a three of clubs and a three of spades-, ignoring the water droplets dripping from her hair onto his shirt, but he doesn’t seem to mind either. She has no idea what’s going on since she joined in mid-game, but by the looks of everyone’s faces…she still can’t tell what’s going. Her father’s face is blank and Negan’s has an air of mischief to it, but then again, it almost always does. Rick looks calm as his eyes move from his cards to the three that lie in the table’s center. 

“Wha’s goin’ on?” She whispers in his ear. He leans down to her level and explains to her that the three cards in the middle are the flop and that things are looking good for him. She nods and leans closer to get a better look. The three men all slide more chips into pile. Negan reveals another card next to the three, which Rick informs her is called the turn. They bet again and Negan reveals one last card - the river, Rick tells her- before they all reveal their hands. 

“Two pair,” her dad dejectedly reveals. 

“Three of a kind,” comes Negan’s reveal. 

“Full house,” Rick calls out smugly as he takes the pile of chips

“See, I knew Rick was gonna win!” She cheers, causing the two other men to groan in annoyance. Rick squeezes her thigh, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Negan who’s glaring daggers at the blue eyed man. 

“You playin’ this round, hon?” Her dad asks, shuffling the cards. She happily agrees and deals her in. 

“Ya sure ya wanna stick with Rick? He was just fuckin’ lucky last round,” Negan bargains. 

“Lucky and four hundred dollars richer! I’m stickin’ by him.” Rick flashes Negan the smuggest look ever before wrapping his arm around her, pulling her closer. 

“Got my good luck charm right here.” 

“See if you get so lucky this time ‘round,” her dad challenges as he deals out two cards to each player. She looks at her cards, still not fully sure on how to play. She slides in a chip alongside everyone else, which Rick explains is the ante. Her dad reveals the flop and she looks from it to her own cards, not knowing what plays she has, if any. She glances over at Rick who’s immersed in his own cards. 

“Rick, what do I do?” She whispers. 

“C’mere, I’ll help ya out,” he offers with a pat to his lap. She climbs onto his lap from her own chair, leaving her towel behind. Her dad doesn’t bat an eye. Rick is one of his best friends, basically a brother to him, and in turn like family. At least that’s the way he sees it, like a simple loving action between good family friends. 

But Rick can hardly focus on either of their cards. Having her on his lap is distracting. Her plush ass sits directly on top of his crotch and he can feel himself getting hard as she shifts around to get comfortable. If she can feel it too, she doesn’t move away or say anything. He rests his chin on her shoulder as he looks at her cards -an eight of diamonds and an eight of hearts- his beard prickling against her soft skin. 

“See that eight of spades on the table, you’re close to havin’ a four of a kind,” he whispers. 

“Is that good?” 

“Very.” Nobody’s looking, so he presses a quick kiss to her shoulder. She stifles a giggle at the ticklish sensation of his beard against her skin. They all bet again and the next card is revealed. She shifts around excitedly once she sees another eight on the table.

“Keep still, sweetheart,” Rick warns, growing harder in his pants. She doesn’t say anything, but Rick can see her shoulders shake with more stifled laughter. Everyone places another bet before the river is revealed and they all show their hands. 

“Full house,” Negan says as he reveals his cards. 

“Flush,” her dad reveals. 

“Two pair,” Rick shows his hand. 

“Four of a kind,” she apprehensively says, showing her own hand. 

“Maybe she is some kinda goddamn good luck charm,” Negan grunts. 

“Did I win?” She asks, noticing the proud but somehow simultaneously disappointed faces around the table. 

“You did, sweetheart, good job!” Rick says, hugging her from his position behind her. She gets up and presses a quick kiss to his cheek, dangerously close to his lips before skipping into the kitchen. 

“That was fun, but I’ma head back to the pool now.” Negan watches her struggle to reach a snack in one of the cabinets. She jumps a few times, her ass jiggling a bit each time she lands. He stands up and joins her in the kitchen, watching her pathetically try a few more times before standing behind her and effortlessly grabbing the bag of chips. He even opens it  before handing them to her. 

“T-thanks,” she says turning to face him and taking the bag. Her whole body feels like it’s on fire as she stares up at him. He’s standing so close to her, basically pinning her against the counter. His tongue glides across his bottom lip as he hungrily eyes her up and down, eyes lingering on her tits that her bikini top could hardly contain. 

“You’re welcome.” She doesn’t know what to say or even if she should say anything. Her eyes wander down to his strong arms that are folded across his chest, his tattoos on full display. She bites her lip when her eyes graze over the slight bulge in his pants. She can’t tell if he’s hard or just big, but either way she desperately needs to take a dip in the pool to cool the heat building up inside of her. 

“I’m gonna go back out now, bye!” She slips away from him and hurries out to the backyard before jumping into the pool. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆

She had about thirty minutes alone until she hears the sliding glass door open. Out comes Rick in nothing but his swimming trunks and a beer in hand. He doesn't seem to see her as he makes his way to the hot tub. He gets in, letting out a sigh of relief as he feels the hot water relaxing his muscles. He rests his arms around the ledge and tilts his head back, relaxing and the sight is delicious. She climbs out the pool and carefully steps into the hot water beside Rick. 

"Hey darlin'," Rick greets once she's sitting beside him. 

"What're you still doin' here? Isn't it past midnight?" she asks. 

"Me 'n Negan wanted the hot tub for a bit, but your old man's done for the night." 

"Oh. Okay." She's looking at Rick in a way he can't decipher. Her eyes hungrily trail across his body as she scoots closer and suddenly, she's in Rick's lap like before. 

"I can still sit here, right?" 

"Of course," he reassures, his hands resting on her thighs, fidgeting with the waistband of her bikini bottoms. He rests his chin on her shoulder, just relaxing and enjoying the feeling of her against him. 

The sliding glass door opens again, a jarring interruption to their peace. She flinches, scared one of her parents were about to come out and see her and Rick in a compromising position, but Rick, seeing that it's only Negan, holds her tighter. He joins them in the hot tub with a beer in hand and cigar between his lips. In nothing but his swim trunks, his hairy chest and tattoos are on full display, taking all of her attention away from Rick. If looks could kill, Negan would have murdered Rick with his hazel colored death glare. The tension in the hot tub is so thick, it's almost suffocating. Negan being there somehow makes her feel guilty for being so close to Rick, but leaving his lap isn't something she wants to do either.

"Hey, Negan," she says in a weak attempt to relieve the tension and kill the awkward silence. 

"Hey doll," he takes a drag from the cigar before blowing out the smoke, "congrats on winnin' your very first poker game." 

"Thanks...couldn'ta done it without Rick, really." She subconsciously leans further into Rick and he presses a few scratchy kisses to her shoulder and the back of her neck. Negan rolls his eyes at both her and Rick. 

"C'mere," he commands with a come hither motion. She swallows nervously, looking from man to man. Rick can feel that she wants to get up so he unravels his arms from her waist so she can, which she does, albeit apprehensively. Even though he didn't tell her to, she sits on Negan's lap, her cunt right atop his growing boner, the only barriers between them being his swim trunks and her bikini bottoms. His beard tickles the side of her face as he leans down to whisper in her ear.

Rick watches the two with an intense gaze, almost as if he was daring Negan to try something with his girl. Negan's arms are around her now as he whispers something in her ear. Rick is sure he's just talking shit  but jealousy still twinges in his chest. 

"Anything that asshole thinks he can teach ya, I can do it better," Negan whispers. Rick sees her giggling and she turns her head to whisper something back to him. 

"Yeah? Then why'd ya lose both games earlier?" she teases. He lets out a laugh which catches Rick's attention. His blue eyes glare daggers at Negan who only spares him a smug glance. 

"Didn't wanna embarrass poor Rick over here by beating his ass in front of ya," he says loud enough for Rick to hear. His voice returns to a whisper. "As for the other game...you just got pretty damn lucky." 

"Mmhmm sure," she replies sarcastically with an eye roll. She stands up and wades her way to the hot tub's stairs. 

"G'nite y'all," she wishes them as she exits the tub. 

"Goin' to bed already? Night's just started?" Negan complains, already missing having her on his lap. 

"It's almost three in the mornin'," Rick comments looking at his watch. "Night, sweetheart!" 

"See you both at the barbecue tomorrow!" She blows them both a kiss before skipping off toward the house. She can feel their gazes boring into her, particularly her ass as she does so. 

[delusionisaplace]

Quotes for the opposites attract kind of pairing ? Maybe like the upbeat, energetic and spontaneous character x the moody, serious, do things by the book and likes quiet character ?

i kinda already did smth like this (link here) butttttt i had a couple of ideas for the first one that i didn’t use, so im gonna do this again :)

𝙤𝙥𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩: 𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙥 𝙙𝙮𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙘𝙨 𝙥𝙩.2

have fun with these :) | if yall want more prompts like this, jus drop an ask nd ill respond as soon as possible | tag me if you use any bc i love seeing what you guys write :))

“Ah, there you are. I was beginning to wonder why it was so peaceful.”

“Isn’t it so beautiful today?” “…it’s raining?”

“Let’s go do something, anything!” “It’s 3 in the morning…”

“I like being alone, but everything feels so lonely whenever you’re not around.”

“If you like it, then I like it.”

“Why do you keep smiling at me?” “Because you look like you need it.”

“You never seem to worry about anything.” “Well, there’s no point in worrying if you’re here, right?”

“You’re the brightest star in my night sky." “I'm just being myself."

“I bought you this little plant; it reminded me of you." “Thanks. I'll try not to kill it.”

“Did you see that dog? It was so adorable!” “I guess it was cute, in an ugly type of way."

“I saw this new ice cream place just down the block—we have to try it!” “I don't really like sweets... but sure, I guess.”

“I made us breakfast!” “You didn't have to do that, but... thank you.”

“I love your playlists. They're so unexpected, if that makes sense.” “They're just songs, nothing special.”

“Do you want to watch a movie tonight?” “I didn’t really have any plans so if you want to, we can.”

“You're always so helpful.” “It's not a big deal, I just…do whatever I can to make you happy.”

“I saw your favorite book on sale and thought of you.” “You remembered... thank you.”

“God, somehow you always know the right thing to say to make me smile.”

“We might not have anything common, but still…I’m lucky to have you.”

and sorry it took me like 2 months to get to this 😭 that’s my bad

[sanguineterrain]

could I request a fic with insomniac!reader and tim? i love your writing im excited to see how you make his character your own! <3

thanks for the request! first time writing tim... kinda nervous like I'm on a first date 🫣 hope you like! this one isn't as mushy gushy as my usual fics (jason) so yeah. also my knowledge of yj is purely through fic 🤙

tim drake x gn!reader. tw insomnia, tim being so awkward but maybe... there are feelings... who can say. tim's character is so interesting to me (probably because I identify with him the most lmao).

****

It's really, really nice of the team to let you stay over tonight. Like, really nice.

You haven't even done much. You're pretty much a nobody in the superhero world, not even a D-list hero. Certainly not anybody that should be hanging out with the likes of Wonder Girl and Superboy and, God, Tim freakin' Drake.

Kon was just overly generous in his cool, brash way, herding you into a spare room after last night's battle. After tonight, you'll politely break away from the team to give them some reprieve. It didn't escape your notice that they didn't hang out last night like they usually do.

You've been awake for an hour now, listening for sounds of life in the corridor. If you were home, you'd already be on the couch watching crappy TV. But you really don't want to run into anyone here.

Maybe you have some chamomile tea leftover from the last time you stayed over. You hadn't stayed the whole night, slipping away without interference as most of the team had gone to their own homes.

You get up, stretching and popping joints. It's always a little cold in the Tower, and it wakes you up as you walk to the kitchen first. You're as quiet as you can be in heating the water and finding the tea.

You take your mug and head to the den. As you enter, you freeze.

Tim turns his head from his place on the couch. The blue light from the TV makes him paler, and his eyes bluer. Sometimes, he looks so much like Bruce Wayne, it startles you.

"Oh," you say, unsure what else to say. Your brain is tired and fried. "I... was just looking for my watch."

That's definitely your dumbest lie. You don't have a watch. Tim sure as fuck knows that.

His eyes flick to your wrist, as if reminding you both how stupid your lie is, then to your mug. He mutes the TV.

You stay where you are. Tim stands, obviously shouldering his own bout of insomnia.

"It's... you can come in," he says, just as awkward as you.

That's comforting. Tim's usually so suave, the few times you've interacted. He's all Gotham Heights, his upbringing never quite sloughing off no matter how many times he's probably tried to blend in and not be so... private school.

"I was just going to bed," he says quickly.

"No, you weren't," you say. You don't mean for it to come out so shrewd. Tim looks a little startled.

"I mean, you don't need to go," you add. "I'll take this to my room. It's fine. Sorry."

"No, I've been here too long anyway. I should work on my case."

Here's the thing. It's not that Tim avoids you because in order to do that, you'd have to see him more than three times a year.

But there's a distance. You've tried not to take it personally, tried to chalk it up to the fact that you're introverted and Kon and Bart are Kon and Bart, and Cassie's too straightforward to beat around the bush, and you've somehow won her over, which is nice.

And Tim is just... cautious. Paranoid.

Those are understatements, and you can't imagine the psychological damage caused by being raised by Batman, but, well, you've seen the previous and current Robins, so you can hazard a guess.

Anyway, Tim kind of acts like an unsocialized cat with you. You once mentioned it to Kon, in nicer words, but he dismissed you, saying, "Whaddya mean? Rob likes you!" Which had assuaged nothing, but whatever.

"I won't be here long," you say, as a last-ditch effort to not make it feel like you're kicking Tim out of his own space. "I just, uh, couldn't sleep."

He watches you in that freaky Bat way, like he's trying to determine if you're a threat or not. Jesus.

"It's hard for me to sleep after a battle," you add, trying to show your belly. That's how it feels, being around Tim Drake. Like you always need to be vulnerable first. Like you're in a battle of wills you didn't know you entered.

He doesn't sit down, but he does say, "Me too."

You nod and drink your cooling tea. "There's more tea in the kitchen if you want. Chamomile."

"I'm... good. Thanks."

You edge over to the armchair diagonal to the couch and sit.

"You can work in here," you say. "Unless, uh, it's too distracting. I'll keep the TV muted."

His laptop is on the other side of the couch. Tim is still, only his eyes moving from you to the laptop.

"I don't wanna push you out," you say.

"It's really fine," he replies immediately.

It's so not fine. This isn't boding well for your insomnia. You're definitely going to be agonizing over this interaction all week.

"I won't bother you," you say.

"I didn't say you would."

Then what's the problem?

Slowly, Tim returns to the couch. You look away, so it doesn't seem like you're watching his every move (you are), nor is Tim clocking your every move (he is).

He settles on the couch and opens his laptop. You drink and try to figure out what's playing on TV. It looks to be a rerun of Columbo. You smile.

"You like Columbo?"

Tim looks spooked that you're still talking to him, but he answers. "Yeah."

"Me too."

You watch Columbo silently look for clues. Tim types, fingers flying over the keyboard. Then his fingers pause.

"I used to watch it with Dick," he says. "When I first became Robin."

You nod, giving him your full attention. "Yeah? He seems like the type."

"He does a pretty good impression of him. He likes detective shows."

"You don't?" you ask.

Tim shrugs. "They're fine. I guess I just hate how predictable they can be."

"Of course the boy genius would say that," you say, smirking.

Instantly, Tim's face turns to stone. He hums, looking back at his laptop. You blink. What happened?

"Sorry. That was a joke," you say.

"I know," Tim says, any trace of warmth gone.

You're startled by the shift. "I don't—I wasn't making fun of you. I mean, you are smart. Really smart."

Tim carefully looks at you. "...Thanks."

You nod clumsily. You should've just stayed in bed.

It's quiet for a long time. You're trying to muster up the confidence to escape to your room when Tim speaks again.

"People have said stuff like that to be facetious. I... reacted without reading your tone."

It's not an apology, but it's probably the closest thing you'll get.

"It's okay," you say.

Tim nods. His shoulders aren't so tense, though his posture is atrocious when he's off-duty.

He gets up and gives you the remote. You take it, smile small. Tim retreats.

"You can unmute it if you want. I don't mind."

So you do, and you and Tim spend the next hour half-watching Columbo and half-watching each other. Eventually, your tea finishes, and the episode ends, so you get up.

"I think I'll try and sleep," you say.

Tim nods. "Good luck."

You hum. "Thanks. Good luck with the case."

"Yeah. Thanks."

You wash the mug and leave it on the dish rack. Then you escape back to your room. You really do feel like you could sleep again. Maybe Columbo reruns are the magic ingredient to a good night's sleep.

[missmarveledsblog]

Flumpy part one ( jake seresin x reader )

SUMMARY: The dagger squad all were wondering who the mysterious figure was in one of the rooms in the base only to discover to bradley's explaining it was pete maverick mitchell's  kid  with out seeing them fully before leaving jake makes a comment he will in future regret .  y/n doesn't let the man off light with the comment either . 

warning : enemies to lovers kinda , straight up self indulgent writing so soz slight comedic feel although that just my opinion ( sorry) 

They gather in a curious bundle , looking in a the figure Head down on table large hood covering everything from head up as they tried to figure who it was that was well they hope was a sleep since the said figure hasn't moved .

" you sure they're alive they literally haven't moved in what ten minutes or more" one whispered.

" they allowed to be in here i mean what if its a civilian" another gulped.

" i mean they could be a bum" the tall blonde mused.

" hey what you standing around for" roosters head tilted looking at his squad members.

" there's a possible dead bum or civilian in there or dead civilian bum" fanboy looked into the room eye widening at such a possibility. Only bradley knew , his lips twitched in amusement at his friends assumption .

" nah that just mavs kid , must of fell asleep waiting" he explained as they looked more.

" jesus who would of thought mavs offspring would be flumpy there" jake grimaced .

" flumpy what are you twelve" phoenix rolled her eyes only for the figure to scoff.

" cyclone is looking for you bagman" rooster cleared his throat remembering why he was there in first place .

"Course he is needs a real man's help huh , see yall , bye flumpy" he called loudly as the figure head started to rise .

A quick nod to Pete as he passed yet their eyes all focused as the figure yawned and stretched out . Pulling the hood down to reveal the figure was a woman , a beautiful woman at that.

" hey kiddo sorry I got held up you ready" Mav smiled as she stood stretching aching muscle .

" ready as i'll ever be plus don't worry about it i got some z's"she smiled only seeing a group of new faces well not exactly new but in person new. " oh shit did you guys need the room , bradshaw you told me it was free" she glared at the man a comical sight giving their size difference.

" pretty girl you should of just went back to my place if you were tired... not like that you filthy people she like a sister to me" .

" i wouldn't be so tired if i had slept on way here but no someone a singing driver , i wanted to kick you in your great balls of fire" she grumbled.

" stop being so mean i gave you my hoody when you were cold little shit" he shot back .

" do i need to put you kids in time out" mav asked.

" you going hard deck tonight" bradley rolled his eyes.

" nah i need to unpack and sleep more" .

" she coming beach tomorrow since she's our new mechanic get to know you all" mav spoke up ignoring the glare she sent his way.

" beach tomorrow apparently also hi i'm Y/N" She turned holding her hand out to the group as the boys started pushing each other to be the one shake her hand only in their antic phoenix got in there .

" natasha trace but you can call me nat or phoenix" she smiled proudly getting their first.

"Well nice to meet you i already know who you all are from the glowing reviews i got from the two old men there" she chuckled shaking their hands.

" so where were stationed before here?" fanboy bashful spoke up goofy grin as she looked at him.

" oh i'm not in any form of military i got clearance and a civilian contract life of a navy nepo baby" . " come on we show her around the hangar" mav called all following behind .

She didn't need to see the hangar not when she been in it a billion times before during her childhood . following in the footstep of her mom charlie blackwood being a civilian contractor was a little surreal maybe because rooster was also there it was like they were the new generation . both legendary parents but she couldn't take the extra steps trying to be in her dad's shadow,that would of never worked although it seemed anything that could fly was a great love must of been genetics in this case.

" well as i live and breathe y/n it good to have you on board" she turned to see admiral beau simpson sauntering over towards her .

" admiral nice to see you again" she nodded politely not little how the man was looking at her .

" pleasure is all mine sweetheart if i'd known you'd be here i would of gave you the private tour" he almost purred as her own face scrunched up.

" i got her plus i need her check out phoenix jet for the test runs on monday so she's a little busy at the moment admiral" pete mitchell stood in front of her easily also not liking the way the older man was looking at his daughter.

" phoenix could you show me the way please oh admiral tell that darling wife of yours i say hi" she walked of linking arms with the female aviator .

" would that be all sir" rooster asked . " yes erm i forgot i got a meeting , rooster i got hangman in the end" he said making a slightly quicker exit.

" so what's the problem or did my dad make it up" she asked looking at the jet itching to get working .

" sort of shaky on the landing and steering is a bit stiff it can wait til monday really i think your dad just used.. And she gone" she watched the new woman in the hanger climbing up to assess everything out.

" i shouldn't of said anything" mav laughed knowing what his daughter was like.

" roo here" she called pulling the hoodie off only to hear metal clanging . " oh this place never changes" she shook her head seeing the men looking at her in awe.

It seemed as though everyone in the base had a reason to be in the hanger that morning , some excuses were almost believable others not so much when a recruit handed rooster a stapler insisting they needed it for any reason .

" nice to have a fellow female in her really was being a meat fest and don't even getting started on the pissing contest some of these guys can have"nat called .

" definitely hasn't change" y/n shook her head . " i mean between rooster and hangmans ego's then moment their on the ground best friends it's whiplash at best" .

" hangman? Blonde guy wonder if he's the one that called me flumpy" she mused with a giggle .

" you heard that huh?" .

" loud and clear what an asshole" she checking thing over before moving on to next part.

" i'm sure he'll take it back when he see's you" nat whispered almost reveling to see hangman's reaction to it all .

" hey need help" the guys called.

" nope it's all good i'm actually finished but thank you" she climbed down covered in grease and oil but she didn't mind .

" please come the hard deck so i can get you drink fixing my baby" nat smiled hopefully.

" no can do i need a shower , nap and unpack but i will see you all at beach tomorrow right" she asked all nodding away eagerly.

" you ever play dogfight football" bob asked slightly surprised at his own bravery to talk to the pretty lady .

" oh i'm not even attempting to play that i got a book with my name on it while you guys get all sweaty also stealing nat so i'm not on my own" she smirked .

" i'm fine with that" nat high fived her whilst sticking her tongue out at the others .

"come on you we get you home" maverick lead her out.

" no one tell hangman" was all nat said once they were gone all silently agreeing wanting to see hangman's reaction to the real flumpy .

The moment he stepped on base all he heard was his fellow officers gossiping like little girls usually he would of rolled his eyes and scoffed at the immaturity but jake seresin was always a sucker for pretty face and now he was full fledged curious .

" i think she'll be at hard deck i hope she is" he heard passing by yale . smiling like cat got the cream knowing it was no contest to who was going to get the girl .

" well look who finally showed his face , mav just left that long ago needing to drop his kid home" nat said almost too sweetly although his mind was elsewhere.

" great flumpy's gone anyways you guys heard or seen the smoke show , how true to the scale is she hot" he asked .

" lava like burn through anything hot" Javy spilled out as rooster tried not to react .

" well i guess i'll know later when i'm buying her a drink tonight i'll let you know how hot she is tomorrow though" he winked heading into the locker rooms.

" who's gonna break it to him" payback asked.

" no one dare say a word think of it as my christmas present" nat rubbed her hands together all heading to get changed and ready to have a few drinks after long day .

It was safe to say jake was annoyed the next morning , the mysterious hotty never showed at the bar so he couldn't brag like he wanted which in turn had the gang busting his balls for the forward assumption . it didn't help they were doing it all way to the beach or when he was helping set up the table for the food that was coming but he also had to listen to hear how cool mavericks offspring was maybe he was wrong about the dude or whatever then he start thinking flumpy was why the hot girl was there since they both showed up on same day which irritated him a little more then he cared to think . when he saw the hottest girl he'd ever seen like show stopping hot walk on the beach maybe he could get over the whole thing by getting her. He wasn't going to just go over no he pretend to throw rooster the ball only for it to land right near the woman . " don't worry i'll get it" he winked and strolled over so cocky and confident . sunglasses hid how his eyes raked over her the sundress that hugged her body like a damn glove , like it was made for her and her only . how her hair flowed messily down her back or how it fell to the front as she picked up the ball . " sorry ma'am my friend there can't seem to catch a ball" he stood a little taller , tensed his muscle a little knowing the ladies loved it. She looked over at rooster eyebrows raised before throwing the ball to him.

" looks like he's not so bad at all" she said walking with her towel under her arms ready to set it up .

" or maybe he wanted to impress you" jake followed .

" or you got a shit throw" she said placing her things down placing the towel on the warm sand before pulling the sundress over her head to reveal the red bikini that sat under it .

" hey kid you wanna help penny carry down the food before you get all comfortable" mav called

. " sure thing old man" she walked off leaving jake coming to a horrible realisation.

" was that?" he asked his fellow squad members.

" flumpy" the all called back" with shit eating grins .

"oh and hangman she heard you say it" nat cackled as his face completely dropped .

With the bragging right now and truly down the toilet giving as she wouldn't even look so much as his direction although . hell it seemed baby on board was in with more of a shot then he was. He was also now a fan of don't judge the book without fully seen cover that was his first mistake. Damn the cover was just his style that was for sure.

" just give up hangman , she not into you , you've ruined your chance" payback smirked as they began loading their plates .

" oh don't you worry boys i will have her eating out palm of hand and sweating for more" he laughed only they we're not laughing .

" man shh" javy whispered eyes darting behind the texan.

" what you know it i will have her riding me like a bull at a rodeo by the nights end" only instead of continuing a clearing of a throat .

" excuse me" she pushed past loading her own plate.

" darling how much of that did you hear" he winced .

" enough you tell you that i'd rather starve then eat from palm of your hand and walk to china the ride in your rodeo cowboy" she scoffed walking off sitting down on her towel picking up her book and completely ignoring the fact that jake seresin existed . which only to his torture while he was playing pool she was chatting away to some of the guys at the bar. He watched as the fawned and flirted with her , dropping their best lines while she let them think she was lapping it up , oh she was good he would give her that.

" your not gonna give up are you" coyote asked .

" not by long shot" jake smirked potting his winning ball . 

Part two

[golbrocklovely]

privacy please // colby brock

A/N: me, posting more than once a month??? INCREDIBLE. i was midway thru writing "let's fall in love for tonight" when this idea popped into my head and i just had to write it down. part of this is inspired by a tiktok i saw of a girl talking about a time she was hooking up with a guy. i wish i could find the tiktok and share it with you all bc the moment she said what she said.... i just knew i had to include it in a fic at some point lol so shoutout to that girl. this is a short fic/blurb bc i have some other fics lined up that are gonna be full blown smut so i don't want to tucker myself out writing smut only. and if you see me using what happens in this fic in other fics.... say nothing sksks lmk what you think and i'll see you guys next time <3

prompt: you and colby just want some privacy, but the only place you can get it is in his car. || fem!reader x colby brock

trigger warning: light smut (no actual sex), cursing, making out in a car, fluff, already established relationship

word count: 1363

~~~~~~~~

"This is so ridiculous." Colby groaned, pulling away from our kiss.

I giggled, staring up at his annoyed face. "No it's not, it's kinda fun."

"How is this fun? I feel like I'm gonna pull a hamstring." He scoffed.

I sassed him, rolling my eyes. "Well, it's your fault you don't have a car big enough for your five foot eleven ass."

"I don't think I was meant to lay out horizontally in my car." He replied back, just as snarky.

"Well, blame Toyota," I sat up on my elbows, huffing. Does he think I'm comfortable in this cramped back seat? "Or better yet, Sam and Kat for wanting to have their friends over when all we want to do is fuck."

"Maybe if you weren't so loud, we could have sex in my room without everyone knowing." Colby raised an eyebrow at me daringly. I could see his bottom lip quiver as he tried to hold back a laugh.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "You never seemed to have a problem with my screaming before. I'll gladly remember next time you're begging me to say your name to be quiet."

He gasped, legitimately upset. "Begging?! I don't beg."

"'C'mon baby, say my name.'" I mocked in a deep voice. "What's that sound like to you?"

"Commanding!" He barked.

"Not when you're breathy it ain't!" I jeered sarcastically.

Colby sat up quickly, pouting jokingly. He kept my legs on his lap, his hands cupping my ankles. I sighed deeply, smiling up at the ceiling of the car. "Are you really not enjoying this?"

He chuckled, the 'tension' in the car defusing. "I enjoy any time I get to be alone with you."

I hummed, "Good to know. I think this is kinda exciting. It feels like I'm a teenager again, sneaking around with a boyfriend my mom doesn't know about."

"Am I, like, your edgy boyfriend?" He questioned, side eyeing me.

"Oh yeah. You have tattoos, wear all black, curse, drink..." I gasped, "Oh my God, you're, like, so cool."

Colby bit his lip, staring at me intensely. "Get over here."

He grabbed my wrists lightly, pulling me up. I straddled him, a soft grunt falling from his lips as a I settled onto his lap. "Much better." He murmured.

I studied his face for a moment, taking in all the little details I could. The way his hair fell, covering his forehead. The lovely shape of his eyebrows, manicured without him trying - which was honestly the most annoying thing about him. He also had surprisingly long eyelashes for a man, something I was jealous about as well. His eyes - which of course were to die for. So blue and deep. I had stared into them so many times I had lost count. I never saw the end of them, never studied them long enough to know every intricate detail about them. I don't think there would ever be enough time to do that.

"Hi." Colby whispered, softly smiling.

A light blush came to my cheeks, "Hi."

My hands cupped his face sweetly, his eyes closing at the feeling. I gazed at his cheeks; how adorable they were. I would try my best to remind him that even though he didn't like them himself, I enjoyed his "chubby" cheeks. His dimples. Oh my GOD, his dimples. If I could, I would take a picture of every time I was able to make his dimples appear. I would fill a whole photo album of just his face smiling. And I can't forget his nose. His nose was so... masculine, in an interesting way. It fit his face perfectly. Angular with a slight point.

And then of course his lips. I've had dreams of just kissing him. Of just staring at his mouth. Sometimes it's hard to pay attention to him when he talks because all I can think about is his lips and what they've done to me, and what they plan to do.

He laced his fingers through mine, finally breaking the silence in the car. "What's going on in that head of yours? You look so lost in thought."

"I'm just... looking at you." I confessed.

"You like what you see?" He mumbled.

"Love." I emphasized.

He nodded his head, his eyes filled with adoration. He rested his forehead against mine, our lips brushing. His hand slid out of mine, meeting his other on the small of my back. "You are one of the best things that has ever happened to me."

"The feeling is completely mutual." I agreed.

"Good to know...." He leaned in and pecked my lips gently, almost taking my breath away. He pushed my body into his, pressing me as closely as he could. I deepened the kiss, my fingers tugging on his hair. His tongue slid into my mouth, a moan leaving my lips. My hips naturally grinded down onto him, his hands gripping my waist a little harder from the friction.

He moved his mouth from mine, kissing down my neck and finding the perfect spot in seconds. I lulled my head back, allowing him to attack my neck with his lips and tongue and teeth. I whimpered, my hips bucking against his. He pushed his up, grinding just against the right spot to make my breath hitch. I could feel him getting harder under me, pressing against me in the most sinful way. His hands drifted to my thighs, rubbing up and down them.

"You know..." Colby chimed in, breathlessly. "I really love these fishnets."

I uttered, in a daze. "Wha-?"

He continued his motions, causing goosebumps to form on my skin, "I really like that you wear fishnets. They look so sexy on you."

I cleared my throat, finally able to think again. "Um, thank you."

"It's too bad they just take forever to get off." He somewhat grumbled, dropping his head.

I shrugged halfheartedly. "Yeah, I guess."

"How many pairs do you have?" He asked, looking back up at me.

"Of fishnets? Like five or so." I guessed.

Colby nodded. "And how much was this pair?

"What?" I squinted at him, confused. He blinked, wanting me to continue. "Uh, they were like $25."

"Okay...." He paused, his hands resting on top of my thighs. "Remind me to pay you back."

Before I could say anything, Colby's grip tightened on the fishnets. His fingers laced through the holes in the material. He pulled his arms back, ripping the fishnets with ease. I shuttered at his action, gasping in awe, anger, and lust at seeing him tear them without any problems. Feeling them rip from my body, my skin now exposed, caused heat to rush to my sex. My underwear grew even more wet as my eyes met his dark ones.

"Colby! What the fuck?!" I yelled.

"Don't tell me you didn't like that." He grew close to my face, his voice lowering, "Don't lie to me, baby."

I stammered, trying to form words under his lustful gaze. "T-That's not the point. What are you, an animal?"

"Only with you, darling." He whispered harshly.

My breath raced as I glared into Colby's eye. He had such a devilish look to him, and while I was pissed he would rip my favorite tights, it was also extremely hot.

"Fuck, I hate you." I yanked his face forward, forcing his lips onto mine deeply. He smirked against the kiss, humming a response playfully. I snaked my tongue into his mouth, needing to taste him.

He pulled away, catching his breath at my expense. "Are you sure you want to do this? I can't exactly get on top of you."

"If you have to fuck me in the trunk, then so be it. I just need you to do it now." I gripped his shirt, wanting it off his body.

He laughed darkly. "I don't know... you're demanding a lot for someone that's very breathy."

"Colby, don't fucking tease me." I grabbed his hand, sliding it into my underwear and putting his fingers against my heat. I breathed, "I'm so wet for you."

He swallowed hard, his pupils dilating. "Okay... I think we can manage something."

[hminnj]

Maybe In A Different Age

Senku/fem reader

cw: angst no comfort (i tried) ik this fandom kinda dead lowkey but I wanted to write this cause its so senku coded. Senku's an idiot (unsuprisingly). Not very good writing.

wc: uhh i wrote this in my notes, around 1k probably

-

Byakuya brings two strangers into their house on a random thursday.

"Senku, this is a close friend and her daughter, I'm sure you guys will get along splendidly."

"Ok."

Five year old Senku is harshly blunt when he meets you for the first time, staring at him silently as if you've never seen a human before. He doesn't have anything to say and it seems neither do you, so he walks off, deciding he has better things to do. Promptly ignoring the sigh and apology the older man lets out.

.

"So I got this new idea and I'm going through the basic logistics and research right now, might need your help later."

"I'll go get us some snacks and something to do while you work on it then."

Six year old Senku watches you dissappear from his doorway, absentmindedly humming while you head to the very familiar kitchen. Your family has been apparently busy as of late so he forcibly sees your face more often. You usually just eat his food, do your work, and ask him (dumb) questions. You're a friend now, he supposes.

.

"Hey dum dum, Byakuya got me new equipment, so I have some new ideas. So listen up."

"Course Senku!"

Seven year old Senku grins, you're always willing to help him out for whatever reason you have (something weird probably, in his opinion). In return, he always tells you what he's working on and his labor demands. So per usual, he excitedly gets into the details of the next project that he plans on working you and Taiju to the bone for.

.

"Hey Senku?"

"What?"

"I think I love you."

"Huh? You better not be catching feelings dum dum." He gives you a confused squint after hearing your words.

"Whatever you say." You hum

Eight year old Senku hears you say those three words for the first time, you don't say why and he doesn't know either. He thinks its rather idiotic, but he shrugs it off after you silently go back to reading. You've been picking up books more often as of late, not that he cares much.

.

"You're late for the test runs, Taiju and Yuzuriha already left."

"Sorry sorry! My teacher held me up a little later at practice today."

"Hm." His disappointed stare returns.

"Im sorry..? Love you?" You're sheepish with your response.

"How is that supposed to make up for anything? Now come help me carry this stuff"

"As you wish, princess Senku."

Nine year old Senku doesn't understand why you and Byakuya tell him that so often (or that stupid nickname sourced from his "feebleness"), but he moves on quickly to detail the results of the test and the numerous next steps. Much to his pleasure.

.

"Wake up stupid. You fell asleep." Senku (roughly) shakes you awake from your shoulders, poking at your face a few times.

"Huh? Oh sorry Senku, I guess I'm just tired."

"Well you're not gonna wanna miss this." He grins while looking up, expectant.

"Hm. Hey the moons pretty tonight yeah?"

"It looks the same as it always does. Is that poetry getting to you and making you sappy?"

You wait before responding, "Maybe."

Eleven year old Senku keeps you up on certain nights for his projects or for nights like these where there's a meteor shower. He thinks you should stop reading so much of those books that make you sound like Byakuya. You should also get more rest, he adds.

.

"Happy Valentines Day Senku!! Got you a gift, heh."

"Must I tell you again?" Senku turns to a usual sight, you waving a gift in front of his face as if he were a dog.

"I'm good I just wanted to remind you."

"Right."

Twelve year old Senku doesn't see the point in meaningless feelings or holidays for said feelings. Nevertheless, he takes the homemade chocolate from you, skimming through the card which contents include exactly what he expected (a confession of sorts, again), and placing it to the side. Ignoring it in favor of the much more sensible chemicals in front of him. Like every year though, Senku keeps it. He doesn't know why.

.

"Taiju and Yuzuriha definitely have something going on don't you think?"

"And you're bringing this up why?"

You pause, you know why, but you know he wouldn't understand. "It's cute... wish I could have something like that you know?"

"...For the last time-"

"I know I know Senku, don't worry I'll try to bother you less."

Thirteen year old Senku doesn't see you as much anymore, mostly because of your practice that your mom wants you to perfect. You come over less nowadays, a shame (for his projects obviously), but your presence isn't any smaller of an intrusion at school. So much for bothering him less.

.

Around 21:00 is when he hears the familiar ringing of his doorbell. "It's late, why are you here?"

"Got out of training not too long ago and wanted to see you before I headed in."

"Your house isn't even remotely close to mine" A raised eyebrow is all you get in response to your grin.

"What does it matter when I'm already here, but gotta go before I get scolded. Goodnight Senku, Love you!"

"You know it's never gonna happen, as you know-"

"Yeah yeah, 10 billion percent illogical, I know, but I can't let my favorite person forget can I?" You flash another smile.

"As if I'd ever with how often you say it, now goodnight."

Fourteen year old Senku closes the door after you've cheerfully said your bye and faded from his sight enough. The lack of noise is strange, now that Byakuya has "ascended like an angel" (his words not Senkus) it's much quieter. The usual noise of a certain two people is absent more often than not. He let's the silence of the house sit in.

.

"Hey, can you get me something from the storage real quick? Need it soon but that bonehead forgot when he came up here babbling about confessing to Yuzuriha"

"Of course. I'd do anything for you. Always here. You know that Sen."

Fifteen year old Senku glances at your fleeting figure. The nickname is new, for sure. And he can't say he dislikes it, but the lack of a certain three words with your departure is strange. He brushes it off to your usual forgetfulness and peers out the window at Taiju and Yuzuriha. Thoughts preoccupied until a bright green light overtakes his vision and he can't do anything but think into the void.

So he counts.

And maybe every once in a while you pop into his head like you always do.

.

Three-thousand and something year old Senku wakes up to a world where theres a lack of civilization, a lack of his decency, and most importantly, a lack of you.

You would be useful right now, he supposes.

.

Three-thousand and something year old Senku spends his free time trying to find you and the rest of the "gang" (as you would say).

He finds Taiju, he finds Yuzuriha, he also finds a lion-punching maniac, but there's no sign of you.

He's ten billion percent sure you survived.

Right?

The concerned stare Yuzuriha gives him as they part is ignored.

.

(Physically) Sixteen year old Senku celebrates this birthday gazing into the sky from his new observatory. It reminds him of a lot of things, but he can't help but notice how empty it is, it's eerily quiet.

He doesn't like it.

Senku wishes you were here.

His first real birthday wish.

.

(Still) Sixteen year old Senku breaks when he hears his father's voice again for the first time in ages. It's not his voice that gets to Senku. He's heard it plenty enough in his lifetime. It's the mention of you.

"Just kidding! I know it's you on the other side of this Senku! And ____'s there with you right? Please tell me you're dating already or even better married so I can have grandchildren. Please please please Senku! Although you can't really tell me that but-"

Senku stops himself from showing vulnerability in front of the village, and he also stops himself from pausing the record right there and then. Opting to sigh and curse his dad out as a cover up, his fist lightly punching the table.

"Damn you old man."

The questions from the villagers about who you could be are forgotten in favor of an angelic voice. Senku's quick to tune it out. It reminds him of you.

.

(Mentally) Sixteen year old Senku sits by himself that night. It's been a long day. The constant repeat of a certain melody in the background, more work for the science kingdom, and a few questions about who you were. They stopped after a few radio silences from him, feelings are hard for the scientist after all.

It's cold.

He wishes you were here.

It's dark.

He wishes you were here.

It's lonely.

He wishes you were here.

The day he can always guarantee you're there has long passed. You should be here, is what his mind tells him. You owe him for the past 3000 years of missed birthdays after all.

It's funny, in his opinion. That you were probably most-definitely always there. And the one (multiple actually, 10 billion in his mind) time he looks for you, you're not there.

He doesn't think its funny.

"I'd do anything for you huh..."

Anything but keep your word.

He scoffs, but it's directed at himself. He would never blame you for this, or anything for that matter, he can't.

So he sits. And he stays. Like you would've wanted him too. He looks at the clear sky like you usually do. And he notes how the moon is pretty tonight. Just like you.

"I love you too."

He's 10 billion percent sure he does.

-

Thanks for reading, if you did :). Sorry for any errors not fully proofread. Senku is so right person wrong time coded when it comes to romance that i had to write this even if its lowkey bad

[that-weeb-in-ur-closet]

Oooh please relationship headcanons (nsfw & sfw) for gojo, chuuya and fyodor (or whichever one they choose)... including what they would be like as a partner and what they would go for in a partner?

Oooh!! Nonnie, I'd love to. I don't write for Fyodor YET, but I do write for Chuuya and Gojo.

I'll do Chuuya today and Gojo tomorrow ☆☆☆

Chuuya Nakahara:

Sfw headcanons.

♡ He is the sweetest thing, and nobody can change my mind about that. He's the type to just stare at you, and when you ask him about it, he's just like, "I can't help it. You're just too pretty."

♡ He loves it when you wear his clothes, even better if you're (somehow) shorter than him. Sometimes, he'll take off his hat and put it on you, kissing your cheek as he looks at you. He's a hopeless romantic.

♡ I can see him being like, "I don't have a type." before he got a girlfriend, now that he has one, if anybody asks—he's just like, "My type is my girlfriend."

♡ The second you and him made it official, he RAN to his phone and called Dazai. "GUESS WHAT YOU SON OF A BITCH, I GOT A GIRLFRIEND!" "Good job, Chuuya. It only took you twenty years." He got mad and hung up.

♡ He's so scared of losing you, so he just never let's you go. Hugging you from behind, holding your hand, hand on your thigh while driving, any sort of physical contact makes him feel comforted.

♡ He's so protective over you. He LOVES YOU SO MUCH, and he just doesn't ever wanna lose you. If you're in the PM with him, he'll try not to let you fight much and just shield you and did that even before you got into a relationship. You found it kinda weird how he would go out of his way to protect you and nobody else, and when you brought it up, he just mumbled "shut up" and walked away like a gremlin.

♡ He loves it when you play with his hair. He has never felt such a soft touch, and it makes him feel so fuzzy and warm when you softly run your fingers through it. It's long and pretty, and you both love it. When you're making out with him and gently grip the back of his hair? That leads to something more.

♡ He gets really confused if you try internet couple trends on him. "W-what are you saying?? I'm a grown man, I'm not a baby girl!!"

♡ You gets mad really easily, but with you, it's not anger. It's just flusteredness and cute blushies. He literally can't get mad at you, no matter what, he just loves you.

NSFW HEADCANONS

☆ He's a dom. Sometimes he's rough, sometimes he's gentle. If you tease him too much, he'll be a bitch and tease you until you're begging. "Awe, what's wrong, doll? Can't take it? Then behave like a good girl."

☆ His voice??? HELLO??? Why does nobody talk about it??? His dub voice is just-... Hearing his accent makes you wet. And he takes full advantage of it. He'll lean real close to you and lick your ear, smirking into your skin, "Baaaabbbbyyyy... You look so pretty tonight... Do you even know what you do to me? Let me show you."

♡ About the hand on your thigh while driving? Yeah, that's how car sex happens. It's just the way he looks driving one-handed, the feeling of a gloved hand on your thigh, how he only "Hms" in his groggy voice to everything you say.

♡ His biggest kinks are probably dry humping. He loves it when you sit on his lap happily while watching a movie, especially if it's a romantic movie. A sex scene suddenly pops up? He'll grab your hips and slowly grind you against his boner, moaning and whining into your ear softly. (Maybe a mommy kink too but I don't wanna talk about it)

♡ If you're BOTH a part of the Mafia, like I said— he'll be protective. But sometimes, when he sees you fighting another man? He'll get jealous. So, what does he do? He fuckd you in front of them. He's gonna kill the man anyway, he's just gonna die with cum on his face.

♡ His hands. There shouldn't be any other words, but I'm saying more anyway. They're long and skinny, and they can curl inside of you so EASILY. He's skilled with them. He'll delicately flick your soft nipple and make it hard on a sweet day, or roughly grab and pinch them on a bad day. He loves when you suck on them, sometimes not even sexually, you'll just be sitting or walking and he'll put his finger in your mouth.

♡ He's the definition of Short King Anthem. I'm not gonna say anything else.

♡ He does this thing where he'll grind his hips in circles, and when I tell you, you've never felt more pleasure in one night. Ever. He KNOWS how good it feels, well, at least judging by the way you scream for him.

♡ You've made him cry during sex. A lot. And it's only because he adores feeling you, hearing your breath, hearing you moan for him and only him. He never thought he'd feel so loved, and he wants more of it. The crying only got into an emotional breakdown ONCE, and it was the first time you had sex. You didn't mind, which made him cry more.

♡ He's a big softie at heart and just wants to be touched. Aftercare with him is godly. He makes sure he didn't hurt you, makes sure you're okay and everything. He'll pick you up and take you to the bathroom to get cleaned up and does all the work. After that, he cuddles with you all night, pressed as close as physically possible to you.

He's a lover boy, change my mind.

[springwitch26]

hots for teacher (part 2) (melissa schemmenti x fem!reader)

part 1

summary: you've been infatuated with melissa schemmenti ever since you worked under her as a student teacher. what will happen when you meet again a few years later? (part 2: what happens)

warnings: smut, intensely NSFW, praise kink, age gap, squirting, d/s vibes, inexperienced!reader, minors and men please don't touch this post

notes: ask and you shall receive, beauties! thank you for all the love on part 1, it's kinda surreal to be writing my own fics but also super liberating. any feedback is welcome. idk when i'll write again but i may or may not have another little nsfw draft with a more... punishing... interpretation of mel so we'll see! also, feel free to send me asks because i'm lonely. this one goes out to whoever said melissa schemmenti loves sluts, 'cause yeah she does.

the car ride back to melissa's place felt like it would never end. you crossed your legs when you first got into the passenger seat--partly out of habit and partly to get some friction on your aching core--and were quickly reprimanded.

"tsk tsk, baby. guess i'll have to teach you manners, too. keep those pretty thighs apart for me, all the way home. you're gonna wait patiently until i get my hands on you," melissa scolded.

you whined incoherently, and she responded with a dangerous laugh. the trip was short but unbearable. she had one hand on the steering wheel, while the other drew lazy patterns on your inner thigh. you squirmed and writhed, even moaned quietly, but she remained nonchalant.

at one point, when her fingers drew oh-so close to where you needed them most, your thighs snapped shut of their own accord.

"c'mon, legs open," was all she said in response. she tried to act casual, but you could tell from her excited half-smile that she was enjoying this game more than she let on.

as soon as you got in the door, she was on you. you barely had the focus to take in your surroundings as she lavished you with kisses, working her way across your lips and face before burying herself in your neck. her house was cozy and tastefully decorated with gentle lighting. in the soft glow, her slightly disheveled hair and lustful eyes were a sight you'd never forget.

"is there anyone--oh!" you squealed as her fingers began to trace circles on your nipples through your dress. "is there anyone else here?"

"sensitive, huh?" she teased, smirking down at you. "and no, it's just me tonight."

before you had time to consider what that last word implied, she picked you up and effortlessly whisked you to her bedroom. you were dazzled by the sight of her private space--it was simple yet beautiful, adorned with shades of green and twinkling lights. you didn't expect this level of whimsy from her, and it somehow made her even sexier.

she laid you on the bed carefully, reverently. "god, look at you." she whispered, sending shivers down your spine as she positioned herself on top of you and returned to your lips.

by now you were painfully needy from all her teasing, and you just needed her to fuck you senseless. you tried to convey that with your impatient noises, but it seemed the older woman had other plans. she pulled away from your lips to take in your flushed, desperate face.

"soon, sweetheart, soon. i know you're so worked up, but i plan to make this last."

you hummed in acknowledgment, turning your attention to the buttons of her shirt. you thought maybe if you got her a bit more riled up, she would be less inclined to take her time.

melissa groaned, feeling your delicate fingers ghost over her chest, but shook her head in disapproval. she removed your hands from her shirt, grabbing your wrists with surprising force. "i'm not taking my clothes off yet. i'm in charge, and you need to learn patience."

you gave her your best pout, but you knew she wouldn't budge. this was about power, not patience. she wanted to be clothed, composed and in control while you lay naked and vulnerable underneath her.

she started to pull at the fabric of your dress. you lifted your hips, and in one fluid motion, she slipped it over your head and off of you. it was an expert move, and you shivered at the idea that she had done this many times before.

when she saw your body, she paused for a moment, her mouth slightly open and her pupils dilated. "no bra?" she asked under her breath, not looking for an answer. "you're so soft in my hands..." she mused as her hands massaged your breasts. her fingers moved to pinch and rub over your nipples.

you moaned, bucking your hips upward and seeking more contact. she took the hint and directed her attention to your core.

"nice panties, by the way," she said with a cocky laugh, tugging playfully at the soaked pink lace. "who knew little miss gothic had a colorful side?"

"please, mel, no more teasing, i need you so bad," was all you could manage.

"okay, baby, let's get these off ya." she hooked her fingers through your panties and you lifted your hips, allowing her to drag them off. she folded them neatly and tucked them into her front pocket. something cutesy to remind her of you, wet and pliant under her touch.

"mmm, such a messy girl. you must feel so embarrassed, all spread out and naked for me while i'm fully clothed, playin' with you."

you could only whimper and whine, helplessly turned on by her words but pinned to the bed and unable to move. she cooed at you and took pity, moving down your body to get closer to your core.

she placed her hands once again on the insides of your thighs, gently pulling them apart and revealing your glistening pussy. her breath stuttered upon seeing the wetness covering your core and thighs.

"jesus, hon, you're dripping. you're just aching for me, aren't ya? need me to make you feel good?"

"yes!" you finally exclaimed, regaining your voice. "yes, please, melissa, please touch me, i need you," you begged.

"well, since you asked so nicely..." she gave you a smirk and trailed a finger between your puffy lips, gathering the wetness there.

by this point you were writhing all over the bed, so she had to pin your legs down with her knees. neither of you minded, though. you enjoyed feeling completely at her mercy, and she enjoyed watching you squirm under her.

finally, after an eternity of torture, she gave in, slipping a finger into you with ease and rubbing gentle circles over your clit.

"so tight, fuck," she muttered to herself as she began to move inside you, transfixed by the feeling of you around her.

"feels so good, ohhh..." you mewled as her finger quickly found a rhythm, pumping forcefully and curling at your most sensitive spots.

"you're taking me so well, baby, my brave girl," she soothed, relishing in her ability to draw such pathetic sounds from you. "can you handle one more?"

you nodded frantically, almost too lost in the haze of pleasure to hear her.

she grinned and pushed another finger inside you, making you cry out. you were relatively inexperienced, so the stretch was a bit painful at first, but you were soon overcome by the bliss of feeling so full.

"that's new, huh? poor baby, can barely take two fingers," her thrusts got rougher, as if she was trying to break you. "don't whine now, you wanted this."

you were overwhelmed with pleasure and the slight pain of the intrusion. her fingers were long, nimble and skilled, and she seemed to know all the right spots and rhythms to make you see stars. her fingers stroked your clit with more pressure now, making you shake and moan uncontrollably. it was almost too much. you wanted to scream, but you could only produce pathetic little whimpers of "ah, ah, ah!"

she was clearly aware of what she was doing, and she revelled in your pleasure. she would ease up, return to a gentler pace, and then thrust hard into your g-spot just to hear your cries and gasps. she longed to see you lose control.

"that's a good girl, keep takin' my fingers just like that. you're close, aren't you baby? let's see how long you can last against me," she said, her voice deep and her smile mischievous. there was a competitive edge to her words, like making you fall apart was some kind of victory to her.

suddenly she pulled away completely, and you nearly sobbed. your hips bucked up into nothing. your helpless whimpers were music to the older woman's ears, and she snickered to herself as she moved down your body.

for a moment, there was silence. you stared at her, silently pleading for her touch. she cocked her head at you and raised an eyebrow, silently asking you: are you ready? you nodded intently. you weren't sure what she was going to do to you, but you sure as hell wanted to find out.

before you even had the chance to brace yourself, she was thrusting two fingers roughly inside you again, rubbing hard at that spongy spot. for the final blow, melissa leaned down and attached her lips to your clit, sucking harshly.

"not yet, sweetheart. stay with me," she said, grinning from ear to ear as she felt your walls flutter and clench around her.

with her free hand, she reached up and pressed softly on your lower abdomen. between that, the punishing thrusts, and the hot pressure on your clit, you couldn't take it anymore. the sensations overwhelmed you. the world went blank, and all you could feel was warmth. you swam through oceans of white-hot ecstasy, riding wave after wave of pleasure. and melissa was right there, coaxing you through heaven's gates.

melissa's thumbs rubbed soothing circles into your outer thighs, bringing you back down to earth. "come back to me," she whispered sweetly. you opened your eyes.

"there she is," she said, her eyes sparkling with relief.

she gave you a giddy smile and you noticed the wetness all over her face... and fingers... and sheets. you couldn't help but feel embarrassed.

melissa must have picked up on this, as she took hold of your hand and reassured you. "don't be embarrassed, angel. that was probably the hottest thing i've ever seen." she laid down next to you as she spoke.

you hummed and buried your face in the crook of her neck. she was warm and smelled like cinnamon.

"did you know you could do that, hon?" she asked.

"yeah," you giggled, still dazed. "but i didn't know you could do that."

"i'm fulla surprises, kid," she laughed, stroking your hair. "let me run us a bath, and then we'll see what kind of surprises you've got in you."

she carried you bridal-style to the bathtub, and you relaxed into the bliss. feeling the warmth of her arms around your frame. drowning in her.

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N ::: YOU GUYS. You guys. I feel like this is one of the hottest fucking things I've ever written. I've been so strung out on Ushiwaka from Haikyu!! lately - like, literally. I think about him while I'm working. It's fucking absurd (I realize this). But I have tried to write something for the last 3 days. Maybe 4 or 5 different tries. And then I heard this AMAZE-BALLS audio today and it's like the damn stars aligned. And here we are, friends. I hope you like this.

C/W ::: Wakatoshi Ushijima x F.reader (chubby reader - because I fucking said so). It's kinda cheesy. But my god. I'd do almost anything to have this man standing before me. Also, I don't want to get into this shit because I'm lazy tonight. If you were tagged and didn't want to be tagged in Haikyu!! stuff you're a dumbass. Just kidding! Tell me and I'll make a note of that somewhere. If you want to be tagged in future writings of this nonsensical whimsy, send me a message and I'll make a note of that somewhere. So ...

MDNI AFTER THE CUT PLEASE AND THANK YOU.

WC ::: 1,072 (about 2 3/4 pages).

Can't stop thinking about Ushijima.

Thinking about him kissing you so softly, despite being so much larger than you. He handles you like you're fine china. Like you'd break if he were any more thorough. The way his hands roam the dip in your waist, how they seek out the soft warmth of your belly pudge.

How he runs his hands down the lower half of your back and suddenly grabs your ass and hoists you up onto the front of his body.

It happens so quickly that all you have time to process is how you're practically being held up by his cock. Like a little ledge you're resting on. So precariously.

How you're grinding against it as he holds you close, how he's nipping at your ear and muttering about how good you feel so close to him.

You moan and lean into his touch as you rut against him. Your hips pretty much doing their own thing. You can't help it.

His breath against your skin - just the way he  breathes  on you is making you irreparably wet.

And then suddenly, he's moving you again. Carrying you, really. To the bedroom. He lays you down gently, hovering over you.

He pulls back just long enough to take off his shirt, and you realize it's the first time you've seen him like this. With wild abandon in his eyes, staring you down as he begins to unbutton his jeans.

You're practically panting at this point. Your cunt throbbing with the need to be filled. And then it's there. 

Ushijima's cock.

You'd seen it before, but never up close. It's so thick and veiny, and you're a little scared of how it's going to fit inside you, but you want it more than anything.

He climbs back on top of you, kissing you again, his tongue searching yours out as he slowly,  so slowly sinks into you.

You gasp and moan as he fills you up, stretching your walls in a way you didn't know was possible. It's just on the edge of painful, but the pleasure that radiates through you from having him inside you is enough to keep you from pulling away.

Even if you wanted to, he wouldn't let you go anywhere. His grip on your smaller body is nothing short of a pleasant vice. And he's not even holding onto you with all of his strength. You can tell.

Ushijima starts to move inside of you, and you feel yourself melting under his touch. He's fucking you with a gentle urgency. Like he wants to savor every thrust but also desperately wants to release this pent up craze within him.

You're getting lost in the rhythm of his movements. The sound of skin slapping skin and the way his breath catches as he fucks you.

The pain from your legs being spread so wide to accommodate his significant body is nothing but an afterthought now. 

You start to feel a warmth building up inside you, and you realize you're going to cum soon.

You try to say something but he interrupts your confession with one of his own. "I want to cum inside you," he whispers, his lips against your ear.

Your eyes go wide at his words, but before you can protest, you feel his cock twitch inside you.

"Wait, I'm not -" But it's too late. He's already cumming. You feel his hot seed filling you up, and you're so overwhelmed that you can't help but cum with him.

Your cunt clenches up so tight around him that he moans and shudders, rolling his hips against yours again and again.

His breathing is heavy, and you can feel his cock hardening against you.

You lock eyes with him, and he looks at you like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

He wraps his long arms around you, pulling you on top of him.

You straddle him, taking him inside you again. He's even bigger than before. You sink down onto him, feeling his cum squish out of you.

He starts to thrust up into you, his hands gripping your hips with a newfound possessiveness.

You ride him like this, your eyes never leaving his. You can see the desperation in his face, the need to be connected to you in this way. It's so intense, and it sends shockwaves of pleasure through you.

You lean over and kiss him, your tongues meeting, and he moans into your mouth. You're so close to cumming again, and you can feel him getting close too.

You grip onto his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he fucks you harder and faster. Hitting every spot inside of you that you never knew existed.

He leans up, taking one of your nipples in his mouth and sucking on it as he fucks you.

It's too much. You're cumming again, and you can feel your walls clenching around him, milking him for all he's worth.

Seconds later, his hands are flat on your back, pulling you close to him. He's pounding up into you with a depravity that makes you want to give up every facet of control you have left of yourself over to him.

And then he's cumming again, his seed filling you up even more than before.

He's breathing hard, his face buried in your neck. His body is wrapped around you so tightly, as though he can't bear to let you go.

You feel content. So safe with him. Like you could stay like this forever.

He pulls out of you, and you feel his cum dripping down your thighs.

He smiles at you, and tsks. "Look at this little mess we've made. I'd better clean it up before it gets all over the sheets."

He kisses you once more, his tongue darting out to taste your lips. And then he's down between your legs, his tongue licking you clean.

He's so gentle, so soft, you almost forget how intense it was just a moment ago. But then he's back up, his lips on yours, and you can taste yourself on him.

You fall asleep in his arms, so utterly spent that you can't keep your eyes open.

But you know that you'll wake up to him kissing your neck, his cock already hard and ready for you again.

And you pray to any God that will hear you that this cycle will never end.

@mackenziebrooks (I hope it's ok to tag you!) @romantichomicide95 (sorry babe, you're in my sights cuz you've seen this!) @arlerts-angel @darkstarlight82 @katkusuo @kazutora-kurokawa @southside-otaku @viburnt @bakubunny (this should be next on your to-watch list, Bunny!) @reiners-milkbiddies (tell me to stop if you only want TokRev stuff!) @trevengersprincess (you can tell me to stop, too, if you only want TR stuff) @hanmaslilslut (taking a shot in the dark here - I saw you posted other Haikyu!! stuff!)

[catsfor2]

hit me, pt 1

word ct.: 2.3k, largely unedited gen: boxer!ellie x med student!reader au!!!, reader is a barista, ellie is mean (she has her reasons), reader is a pretty princess femme because i said so, also ellie says dyke (because i said so)(but not in this chapter lol) warnings: swearing/language, age diff (reader is 19 ellie is 23), drug use (alcohol), eventual smut, angst

a/n: this chapter is a kinda slow start, i mostly just wanted write some establishing dialogue type stuff. i want this to be a medium length ish fic. definitely nsfw in the future. i’m also going to (attempt) to have a more organized pov switching order? idk maybe each part switches between ellie and reader or maybe 1 switch per part? idk. lmk what u think. if you like my writing pls interact on this post or even visit my blog to submit a hc, drabble, or fic idea! requests are open

a/n 2: also, thank you sm to everyone who voted on the poll!!! will totally be doing more of those in the future

part 1.5

You were so drunk. Like, so fucking drunk. Legs wobbling and cheeks flushed, an idiot could notice how intoxicated you were. Hanging off of your friends and approaching strangers. A mess, is what you looked like. You'd learned to restrict yourself over the years, as your friends have informed you of all of the humiliating behaviors you exhibit drunk.

You weren't too worried about anything, though. It's your first night drinking in a while—you're up at university now. Rarely do you get to join Dina and her friends by actually consuming the alcohol—you usually just pass. However, tonight, you wanted to get fucked up. You wanted to forget. Fortunately Dina's a good host, and an even better friend. If anyone was going to be holding your hair back at the end of the night, it would probably be her.

The very first thought you had was holy shit, this is not Dina holding my hair. You shouldn't say 'holding', really. Whoever's hand was in your hair was gripping, hard.

"Shut up, you're fine. Here—drink. No, not sip, drink." A voice directs, bringing a cold cup of water to your mouth.

The first sip is disgusting, the stale tastes of alcohol on your tongue washing down your throat.

Oh Christ, is this one of Dina's friends? How do I not remember her? And her...huge shoulders?

"Seriously—fuckin' drink or I'll make you." The same voice says, meaner and harsher. This person talked to you like you were an animal.

The hand that clutches your hair lets go, and surprisingly gently, rakes over your head a few times to smooth it out. You absentmindedly lean into the touch, too far past the threshold to stop yourself.

The hand moves to your nape as you start to drink, cradling. Her fingers just barely reach around the sides of your neck.

You hesitantly gulp about half the glass of water before the brunette puts it back on the counter.

"Ewwww, is that sink water?" You whine, your face scrunching.

"What, it's not good enough for you? You want Fiji? Fuck is the problem?"

Her tone sobers you up for a moment, locking your eyes to the tiles. You couldn't look at someone while they yelled at you.

Slouching on the floor while she hovers over you, you pull the edges of your dress over your folded legs, only just now feeling the bareness. Your hands stay clutched in the fabric.

"Are you done now?" She says. Rudely, you think. She could've meant 'done' with your vomiting or with your complaining, you weren't quite sure.

"Yeah...I think so. Thank you. Um, really, thank you." You try to say, still feeling stuffy and weighted from all the liquor in your system. She looks at you so intensely you turn your head to escape her gaze.

"Dina asked me to." She takes a damp towel and wipes around your face. "Plus you're so drunk it's a fuckin' liability."

"I'm—m'sorry. Who are you? I've never seen you at one of Dina's...things...before, I don't think."

Her hand stills, wet rag still in it. Her eyes hold yours for a moment, closely and intensely, before darting away again.

“Yeah, you haven’t.”

She rolls up her sleeves before wiping over your collarbones and you spot her tattoo. It takes your gaze up the length of her arms, and you simply let your eyes wander over her figure for as long as you want.

"You should probably throw that dress away. Y'got shit all over it now." She states.

Well.

You look down and see that the moisture on your dress has made it completely see through. Your arm moves to drape across your chest to cover your vibrantly patterned bra and your breasts awkwardly spilling out of it.

"Come on, that's jus mean," you complain. "...ignoring me like that. Please, please, pleeease tell me your name..." Your voice is drunken, high-pitched, and definitely annoying. The woman in front of you grimaces.

"No."

"Why not?" You giggle a bit. "I'll tell you mine."

It was kind of your specialty. Annoying people. Her eyebrows shift downwards. No response.

"Hm, ok. I'll ask Dina." You say, a tiny smile trying to break through your face.

"Do it. See if I give a fuck."

"Woooaahhhh, somebody's got a bee in her bonnet! Who peed in your wheaties?"

"You did. And you're at least sixty-fucking-years-old for even saying that," She tosses the rag behind her and puts her hands on her knees to stand all the way up. "y/n."

Your face lights up an in instant. You scramble to your feet.

"How--how do you know mine? But I can't know yours!?"

"Just how it is. I have to go now." She says, throwing her khaki jacket on her back.

"But--hey, hold on, I don't have a ride home anymore! Everyone's left by now!"

"Not my problem. Call your fucking boyfriend or something." She barks, hands now defensively in her pockets.

A laugh promptly bursts out of you, and you impulsively reach out to grasp her shoulder. Your fingers brush over the collar of her jacket.

"O-kay," you quip, "hold on--cause, I don't have a boyfriend, silly," Her eyes bore into yours as your face draws even nearer. "I'm a lesbian..." You whisper giddily, as if it's something only she gets to know.

Her eyes flit away from you as her mouth purses and flattens, like she's contemplating on how to deal with you. In a moment her pupils are locked with yours again.

"Wow, so fucking special, aren't you, princess?" Her last word is a little less bold, less certain than the rest, like it wasn't entirely intentional. You blush, full body and wholeheartedly.

Princess. Princess?

Your grin widens uncontrollably, and you feel yourself giving in to the hazy pleasure of the alcoholic buzz in your blood. Your hands palm your own thighs as you speak.

"Oh...princess? I like that. I've never—I've never been...called that, before. Before now." You breathe out, eyes fluttery and tired.

She didn't snap at you immediately this time. No, instead, she begins to smile. A lazy, smug, confident smile that burns your stomach.

"You're gonna be real fuckin' embarrassed when you remember this tomorrow. Fuckin'—prissy bitch like you acting all shameless."

“You don’t know who I am,” You mutter, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. "and this? This is not shameless. Do you wanna see shameless? What that actually looks like?" You ask, voice quiet on purpose.

"...No. Fuck no." She denies, that microscopic crack of a smile still evident on her face.

She's very pretty when she smiles. Sooooo pretty.

"You swear way too much, you know that?"

"No, I didn't fucking know that."

Her eyes don't leave yours, like she's waiting for something. Finally, something breaks.

The hand that was resting on the doorknob jiggles it open and she stands in the frame for a moment, just staring. Her compelling eyes force your words out.

"Ok but before you go. One question. Just—just one question.”

"What."

You freeze. What did you want to ask her? You remember it being something about her age.

“Well fucking spit it out. I’m trying to leave.” She urges.

Before you can even recall, another thought appears in your head.

"Okay, okay. Call me princess again? Pleeease? Just once before you go. I don't even want a ride anymore.” You take a glance at the bathroom. “I'll just...sleep… here." You whisper, a little upset thinking about how after this woman leaves, you'll be standing in this bathroom, alone.

"..."

She steps forward, mostly expressionless, pulling up the straps of your dress to cover some cleavage you didn't realize was showing. Your face heats shamefully.

She lets out a sigh.

"Dina has a pull-out in the basement. There's another bathroom down there too if y'need it. Go to bed," Her eyes scan you up and down so quickly you almost miss it. "and finish that glass of water."

With that, the door shuts behind her.

And she's gone.

_____________

You did end up talking to Dina about the person you met last night. Around noon, of course, as you both had slept through the entirety of morning.

"Wait...that's Ellie? Are you fucking serious?!" You clamor, barely comprehending what she’s saying.

The person who helped you out last night knew you, and it also happened to be Ellie. You wanted to hit yourself. Knock yourself out. Be unconscious.

"I thought you knew! She doesn't look that different."

"Dina. I haven't seen her in four years, cut me some slack. And she has like—a whole new energy now. It's....different."

She smirks at you. "...Different?"

"I—yes, different. I know I'm not wrong. I'm not."

The last time you saw Ellie, she was 19 and you were 16. You hadn't come out yet, and hung off of your asshole boyfriend's arm for as long as you could when he was around. Ellie hated the guy. You were insufferable, but Dina must've seen through it enough to befriend you. You’re eternally grateful.

Ellie is a family friend of Dina's, so naturally your paths crossed pretty frequently back then. Until two days before her 20th birthday, when she ran away only with plane tickets and a plan to 'elope' with her girlfriend of three months. They broke up a month later.

You haven't seen her since—excluding last night, of course.

"Oh—oh, fuuuuck. Dina, I know why she was so mean to me last night." Your hands reach up and you drop your face into them.

"She was mean? You didn't say that, the hell?"

"Yes—she was mean, Jesus Dina, keep up. Listen I didn't even recognize her. Like, at all. I kept asking for her fucking name, like, over and over and over again! Oh god, she probably thinks I'm such an asshole." You sulk, rerunning the things you said and did last night in your head.

"Yeah, she totally does."

"No! shut up! You're not helping. How was I supposed to--? She has these arms now, she didn't have those three years ago! And her shoulders? They're so much...wider!" You exclaim, bewildered by this entire situation.

"Hah, ok--"

You cut Dina off.

"And the tattoo, oh my god the tattoo! She's basically unrecognizable!"

"Calm the fuck down, perv. She got a new job three years ago and it just changed her a bit. She does a lot of...physical stuff, now. But she's basically the same, I swear."

"Yeah? Ok. That's...reassuring, I guess..." You say, half truthful. Dina looks at you with something you can't identify. "so...what job."

"Uhhhh—well, not my place to say. You'll...definitely have to ask her. Yourself." Dina winces, trying her best to not let out more info than she should.

"Hm. This is getting...less and less reassuring as you go on. But, thank you Dina."

"So you want her number?" She grins, holding up her phone.

"Are you kidding me." You reject. "I do not text first. You know that."

“You freak, not for that,” Dina shakes her head. “but so you guys can fucking make up and not hate each other, maybe?”

She laughs before getting right on her phone and looking for Ellie's contact.

"I'll just send your number to hers then, jeez."

"No, don't do that either. If Ellie's all upset I couldn't tell who she was, she can be a big girl and tell it to my face. And I don't even care if you tell her I said that. Honestly."

Dina looks up at you. Eyes unmoving and apathetic.

"Both of you are so fucking dramatic. Don't think I'm on your side or her's at this point. I’m completely out of this.”

She throws her phone on the couch before tossing her whole body on it as well. She grabs the remote to turn on the TV.

“Oh shit,” Dina laughs.

“What?”

“Ellie’s gonna fuckin’ flip when she finds out you’re gay now,” Dina says with an acute smile.

I already, accidentally, drunkenly told her. Problem fucking solved, you think.

“Ok? Why’s that?”

“Oh, no reason. Just, pure shock, probably.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” You respond lightly. “…I guess she still pictures the me from highschool, right?”

“Is that your way of asking me if she still hates your ex-boyfriend? Cause yeah, trust me, she does—”

An impeding stream of knocks cut her off. You both whip your heads towards the sound.

The door swiftly opens and in steps Ellie.

Nobody speaks for a few seconds.

“…I have coffee. Thanks for leaving the door unlocked, morons,” Her leg kicks backwards and loudly shuts it. “I hope you get fuckin’ robbed one of these times.”

She walks ahead and hands a hot cup to Dina, and then, to you.

Her thumb rubs along the inside of the carabiner clipped to the loop of her jeans. There’s a smidge of silence before she looks up, only really looking at you.

“I need to show you something.”

And that’s all she says. No context, no elaboration.

“Uh—now?” You question, still in the beat up makeup from last night and hair sticking in all different directions. You couldn’t go out in public like this.

“Uh, yes, now.” She unclips the carabiner and spins it around her pinky. “Let’s go.”

“But what if—what if I have plans?”

“Do you?”

“Well no, but I’d like to at least—”

“Jesus Christ both of you are like this? Here: your hair looks great, your makeup is perfect, your boobs are huge. Can we fucking leave now?” She tells you, completely causing you to forget anything you were saying.

In a moment of panic, you glance at Dina.

Her eyebrows and shoulders only give a limp shrug, as if to say, ‘I don’t know what this is about, but you’re on your own!’

Naturally.

“Yeah, we can leave,” you take a sip of your coffee. “…Ellie.”

The second you say her name, her head is turned to you. Her eyebrows creasing and eyes unwilling to break your gaze. So now you know what the stare was about.

You wonder if your cluelessness last night genuinely hurt her. Made her feel unwanted. Unknown. You felt like shit. You just hope she doesn’t feel similar as you do right now.

She says nothing.

And in that silence, with Ellie cutting in front to get the door for you, you leave.

[xo-cod]

Hi Lia! I was wondering if you could write something with Simon? I love the way you write him :) Maybe something with his nightmare and he needs the reader? 🤗

ah thank you baby! <33 i saw nightmare and just kinda wrote whatever :")

it might be ooc but i tried 😩 hope you enjoy! 🤍

anchor

it was just past 2am when simon woke up in cold sweats. gasps flying out of his mouth, his hands tangled in the bed sheets, perspiration glistening on his skin. they were getting bad again, the nightmares were becoming more consistent, more realistic and usually he would've been able to deal with them by himself.

it was just a bad dream, he tried to calm himself down but it doesn't work like usual. he's too panicked to think properly, no, he needs something.

someone

in his frenzied state however, simon doesn't feel you beside him and the familiar lump crawls to his throat. no, he couldn't have been imagining all those sweet memories could he?

had you left him, figuring his baggage was not worth staying around for? had someone taken you, killing you in the same brutal way his mother and his brother had been taken? did he imagine all those cherished moments he held so near and dear to his heart? every horrible situation his mind could possibly conjure up runs through his head and simon has no choice but to let each one play out. the tears were getting harder to hold back now, his head was in his hands begging his mind to stop.

before he could even hoarsely call out your name, you had turned in your sleep right next to him. relief practically floods in his veins and he dives closer to you with shuttered breaths. the tears were falling freely, like a barricade had broken inside of him.

"y/n, oh my lovie-" he babbled out snuggling deep into your neck, trying to calm his racing heart. usually he would never disrupt you but tonight he's not himself. his mind was cruel, unsure of what was real and what isn't. everything was unravelling and he begins to feel himself become undone along with it.

but all he knew, with surety lodged deep in his heart, was that you were his anchor in this turbulent treacherous sea. you were the thing keeping him grounded no matter where he was

you awoke in slight shock, confused on the pressure around your body. but the sleep disappears when you see the behemoth that was your boyfriend wrapped so tightly around you like a lifeline. it's not like him to be so terrified, to be so vulnerable and you worry for a second if something terrible had happen. but you take a breath, holding him as close as you can.

a nightmare, you deduce.

"bad dream?" you mumble into his soft hair, gently stroking his face. you feel his tears fall against your chest and it breaks your heart piece by piece. he nods into you and you give a kiss to his head, leaning a little back so you could see him clearly.

he's like a little boy in your arms and you want to hold him so tight until nothing bad could ever hurt him again. you didn't know the true extent of his pain, he hadn't told you everything but you knew it whatever it was completely had destroyed him.

"i-i'm sorry, i-" he wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, cursing at himself to have it together. these dreams never usually affected him this much and he was always good at having his feelings under control but tonight it was brutal.

he could feel your lifeless body, how his throat was raw screaming your name over and over, the tears that burned and blurred his vision, the crushing weight of losing you like everything good in his life had to come to an abrupt end.

you hold his sweet face between your hands, pressing your lips to his forehead for a tender kiss. the soft pads of your thumbs sweep the apples of his cheeks, a reassuring a smile pulled on your lips.

"go back to sleep, si. i'll be here. i'll always be here" you promised softly, laying the two of you back down on the bed again. he doesn't have the energy to say a word, his silence is all the answer you need. so he sleeps securely in your arms, the exhaustion taking him and you hold him close. running your fingers in his hair, your heartbeat a steady reminder in his ears that you were well and truly okay.

while he fought the demons during the day, you did your part and keep them well away at night