#my brain is screaming i forget how to use my words right now

[thnksfrthmmrs]

novocaine / what a time to be alive

[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

[luvwestwood]

❝ SAVE A COW, MILK THE ...!? ❞ - Choso Kamo

— (18+) .. SEEMS LIKE THE LOCAL MILKMAN HAS A DIFFERENT TYPE OF MILK IN STORE FOR YOU.

ᯓ★ warnings. (18+), milkman! choso, msub to mdom, overstimulation, titty jobs, p in v, resolved sexual tension, oral (m rec), squirting, slow burn, praising, slight? creampie, suggestive language and actions

ᯓ★ notes. I made choso soo whiny in this I fear.. please beware, there is a LOT of irony in this LMAOO.. plus I need him real bad I think u can tell, anyways hope u all enjoy, this was my 1.4k gift <3

4,862 words (17m read)

please check out and support the actual artists piece on twt!/ig, - @/iamdebruh! + art (center of heading) is by @/yunonoai on twt.

Eggs, sugar, heavy cream, flour, vanilla extract and.. and..?

You analyse the countertop carefully, eyes flickering over each ingredient you had pulled out of the grocery bags less than a minute ago.

"Let's try this again.." Sticking a finger out, you point at the produce one by one, performing a routine of a silly head-count. "Okay- eggs, sugar, heavy cream, flour, vanilla extract and…" Your index finger lands on an empty space that was yet to be filled, and finally, it registers into that brain of yours.

"Oh, how could I possibly forget the milk?!" You cry out in pure distraught, scanning the other countertops in hopes of accidentally misplacing it somewhere instead. Pretty useless though, as no sudden miracle was to be found anywhere.

Groaning, you bury your face into the palm of your hands— mentally cursing at yourself for forgetting one of the vital ingredients for the cream pie, how could you?

Hissing as you pace around the kitchen, you open the fridge with brutal force, head close enough to imploding as you rummage inside for a drop of milk to be found.

"There's no way I'm making a second trip. Not with these gas prices." You whisper to yourself, drawing your head back from being stuck deep inside the fridge, using the curve of your ass shut the doors.

Nibbling on your fingernails, you take one more glance at the ingredients on the counter; contemplating whether you should head back, give up fully and try another day, or….

ding dong!

Hand on hip, your head darts to one side, towards the sound of the doorbell. Who could it be?

Dragging your feet to the front door, you reach over by your side to the console table; digging your hands into the glass bowl for your keys.

Another knock sounds from the door, a deep voice speaking from behind it. “..Delivery!”

As you fiddled with the lock, you glanced over to the clock on the wall; reading exactly half past four in the afternoon. You weren't expecting anyone, really. You usually kept to yourself on Fridays, just to relax from a week’s worth of busy work.

Taking a swift look into the peephole, you could only see the glass covered with white— it seems that whoever is outside is clearly blocking the view.

The door opens widely, revealing a familiar figure you tend to see a few times each week— the milkman. You take note of the few beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, unable to be hidden by his cap. Did he.. run here?

Dark brown hair, tickling the top of his shoulders; cap embellished with "Milkman" just before the brim. Covered in white, bar his black pants. You recall that he goes by the name Choso, a piece of valuable information you managed to pull out of him during an interaction only a few weeks ago.

You must admit, your milkman was quite decent looking for someone with a position like his, and the cute bow tie encircled around his neck depicted him to look sweet and dandy. Wait, there's no way I'm swooning over my local milkman right now.

"Oh, Choso- How could I forget?!" You chirp, seems as if he came at the most ideal time you could possibly think of. "What a coincidence, just in time for my cream pie!"

His biceps scream against the fabric of his short-sleeves, begging to be let out as he tightens his grip around the neck of the glass bottle. "I-in time for your what?" Ears painted with a tinge of red, he looks shocked, more on the flustered side.

Letting out an anxious giggle, you point back behind you with the use of your thumb. "Sorry- I meant I was just about to bake a cream pie right now, and I realised I forgot the milk." Looking over your shoulder, then back at him, he smiles back; clearly flustered over the misunderstanding.

"R-right, I apologise, it's been a really long day.." He hands over the bottle, slightly crouching down to pick up his carrier that rested at his feet. "You're actually my last delivery today, they let me off early cause of the work I've done this week."

Holding the door open with your foot, you carefully place the jug on the same console table behind you, smiling to yourself as he went on a tangent about all the things he had accomplished this week— as if he was expressing genuine content rather than boasting.

"Well someone has been a good boy this week, huh?" You innocently beam at him, Choso's knuckles growing white as he clenched the carriers handle. He seems appreciative of the comment, but looks as if he wasn't used to receiving any.

"..Yeah.." Diverting his gaze away from you, he decides to stare down at the top of his shoes, until something you say has his eyes darting back up at you in a split second. The air so thick with tension, the two of you suddenly stay silent.

Humming before you speak your words, you ponder and wonder if your offer was a bit out of line. "..Would you like to come in for a bit? I could really use some help in the kitchen," Not hearing an immediate response from him, you add on, "You could have some of my cream pie afterwards. It would be a workout going down all those steps again, I assume!"

Choso reaches a free hand behind his head, scratching at his nape in contemplation. He knew that you were referring to the endless flights of stairs that were nothing but a nuisance to him as he tried to get to your apartment.

The fact that you had been the only customer in this entire apartment block, didn't have any effect on him though— as it was you he was looking forward to see each time he's out on the job.

Each time he dropped the same jug of milk at yours, only meant that his low lying interest in you would continuously grow, to the point that he couldn't think of anything else, but you. The man was whipped.

He wanted to get to know you better, but couldn't muster up the courage. He felt as if there never an appropriate time to do so, and the fact he landed a job as milkman, the guy assumed that you thought of him very little.

“I.. don’t know if I should..” He mumbles, anxiety and hesitation written all over his face— so easily read.

You roll your eyes, now leaning a shoulder against the doorframe, Choso slightly taking a step back to refrain from crossing a certain line with you so up close. “Come on, it’s not like I’ll get back to your boss with this!”

Crashing at yours for a bit meant that he'd finally have the opportunity to spend some time with you. Little steps, am I right? He couldn't miss out on something like this. Only a fool would do so.

"..I-I'd love to help you with your cream pie." He blurts out, lips parted due to solely being mesmerised. The two of you gawk at each other for longer than intended, but it doesn’t allow things to turn awkward. Was it the choice of words? The tone? What was it, really?

You blankly stare at him for a second longer than he did, nodding in approval. You had very little hope in him actually saying yes. "..Alright, come in." Beckoning at Choso, you step aside, noticing how he hesitates for a moment, just before he enters at his own will.

You watch as he walks further into the apartment, stopping considerably at a point just to not go out of bounds.

Your own eyes trail down his back, surprisingly so broad, that was now facing you. Having to peel your gaze away, you safely lock the door, dropping the key back into the dish beside you.

Grabbing at the jug, you make your way past Choso; taking yet another glance behind your shoulder for reassurance, just to see him trailing behind you like an obedient puppy.

"Make yourself feel at home, don't be shy!" You remarked, stepping around the kitchen island as you gathered the ingredients back onto the counters; Choso stopping just by the stools in front of you. He seemed all quiet and timid, even doing a double take before he decides to place his carrier on a stool beside him.

He sets aside his cap, politely tucking it away into his carrier before calling for you from across the island. “So.. Is there anything I could help with..?” Extremely eager to assist you in your endeavours, he found it so absurd that he was literally with you, right now, in your own apartment.

“I’m okay for now, just relax for the time being.” Your tone reassuring, you continue your current task as soon as you flash him another smile.

Swiftly putting some ingredients into a bowl, you still occasionally glance up at Choso— the second time round, you didn't even notice that he was already situated beside you, his hands gripping at the edge of the counters as he watched your every move.

"..Hmm, you ever made a cream pie, Choso?" You blurt out, carefully sieving the flour into yet another bowl. You must admit, your words intentionally had a different meaning to them. It was funny, and you knew he would flip out; his burning gaze at the side of your head being unavoidable.

His cheeks flash hot, words stumbling after one another. "I uh, haven't, no.." His voice growing small, you were right in thinking that he thought of a different kind.

Choso mentally argued with himself for doing so, as now wouldn't be the best time to feel his cock strain against his pants. He had to immediately swat the thoughts away, as they were already tight enough. "..Have you?"

His sudden reply had your sieving come to a halt as you slowly looked up to him next and you; just to see that he was still doing the same. Staring into his eyes, you try to think of an answer, swallowing the lump in your throat in the midst of it all.

"..No, I haven't." Your words come out in a whisper, noticing how his eyes alternate between yours and your parted lips. "I've never made one.. It's my first time today." Blinking slowly, you grow timid, your eyes making its way back to the bowl.

Resting your two hands flat down on the counter, Choso's breath hitches— his finger reaching down towards your chin. Guiding you to properly look up, he slightly crouches down to close the space between you two, and in a split second, your lips latch onto each other.

Eyes squeezing shut, you melt into the kiss, wrapping both arms around his neck to bring him closer; Choso letting out a subtle grunt as he hesitates about where to place his hands.

"I.. wanna touch you,” Resting his forehead against yours, his voice trembles, finishing with a helpless crack. Choso was practically begging you, and something about that just had you over the edge. "You don't know how much I've been wanting this.. I need you.. please..”

And he wasn’t lying. He wondered how your soft skin felt to his touch. He always wondered whether he would ever be able to have the chance to make you feel good.

Breathing heavily against his lips, you just nod hysterically, and in less than a second he slithers both hands under your ass, hoisting you into his embrace as he gently places you on the counter beside.

Your lips crash onto each others once again, Choso feeling up and down your body, his demeanor showing how much he's been wanting this for ages. He couldn't even believe it himself. You? Allowing him to have you? Is he dreaming?

A mewl escapes your lips as he cups your face into his hands, his ticklish kisses eventually moving down to your neck, the way he touches you seem so tender, and genuine, Choso didn't want to rush anything. He wanted to savour you.

He anchors himself between your legs— chest heaving so intensely from pure excitement. Meanwhile, you strip your top off, Choso swallowing a lump as he processes the fact that you had nothing else underneath this whole time.

He wastes no time, eagerly latching his mouth onto a breast, groaning as he firmly shuts his eyes, tongue relentlessly swirling around your nipple. His free hand fondles with the other as you comb your fingers through his hair, caressing it gently to let him know he's doing a good job.

You let out a string of breathy moans, a pop sounding from his mouth as he lets go. Pausing for a moment, you try stabilise your breathing, confusion written on his face.

"The sofa," You pant, Choso doing more so the same; his brows furrowed in despair as he yearns for more of you. "Let's move to the sofa.."

And he nods, beckoning you to wrap your legs around his torso once again, your arms being used as support to cling to him. You rest your head against his chest for a split second, allowing you to hear the ecstatic pace at which his heart was going at.

His feet stops just before the sofa, giving you the opportunity to drop back down, in which you suddenly grab his hand and pull him along. Choso seems perplexed, until you gently push him down onto the sofa by the chest, and he could do nothing but stare at you in pure adoration.

"Just relax yourself, okay?" Your voice soft, you kneel after he nods obediently, more than happy to agree with whatever you say.

You don’t dare look away, fingers toying at his belt buckle; which soon enough you end up undoing. Choso was about to lose his mind, and it took a lot in him to not leak right here, right now.

Tugging on the waistline of his pants, the man shifts his hips around to allow for more leeway. His mouth remains open as quiet, irregular huffs slip out, so eager to experience the very next thing you'll be doing.

Stopping as soon as his pants met his ankles, you smile, noticing the wet spot that had formed on his boxers— your hand gently rubbing up and down his protruding bulge. A whimper chokes out of him as he shuffles around a bit more, causing him to bite down on his bottom lip to suppress any more moans. He was too afraid to admit that anything you do has him melting.

All he could do was look down at you between his legs in bliss. Choso just couldn't believe it, and this was definitely not how he expected to end his evening.

His boxers follow after his pants, feeling him shudder under your touch as he comes into contact with the cold air. You shift around upon seeing his throbbing, leaking tip; not letting anymore time pass as you wrap your mouth over it, your satisfied humming sending vibrations to and through him.

Looking up to observe a reaction, Choso only slaps a hand over his mouth, groaning into it as his face returns to the same, crimson red; his other hand shaking as he tries to rest it on the back of your head.

Your head bobs up and down, cheeks hollowing and a free hand kneading at his balls for extra stimulation— Choso endlessly whimpering into his palm as his head falls back into the cushions, eyes eventually closing as he floated around in a pool of pleasure.

Buckets of spit trickled down your chin as you continued sucking him off, Choso squirming in the seat from time to time, his legs unable to stay still. You decide to take another peek, looking at him one more time, and thought to yourself; he seemed cute with the bowtie still on, his actions causing a flutter in your abdomen.

"Mmh," Muffled, as he was too busy suppressing a loud moan, he gives up, hand leaving his mouth to grab onto the sofa behind him. His other free behind your head tightens its grip, Choso suddenly fucking his hips up from the sofa, his teeth gritting as helpless grunts try to slip out. "Cu.. I'm gonna.. Uh.."

Your two hands suddenly place flat onto his thighs as he fucks into your throat, Choso's array of whines intensifying as he feels his balls contracting constantly, his face so warm to the touch.

So helpless, his two hands sets its place into your scalp, Choso bottoming his cock into your throat as he lets out a lengthy moan as a familiar feeling he had never felt washes through his body.

Tears welling up in your eyes, you mentally note to yourself to continue breathing through your nose, Choso’s prolonged groan causing a pool between your legs. You feel a rope of warm fluid shoot down your pipes, your hands repeatedly slapping at his thighs for a sliver of air.

His head hauling back down, he didn’t look the same as he did a few minutes ago— Choso’s eyes low and dark as he pulls you off his cock, a questionable grunt coming from him as he takes note of your fucked up face.

He tried his best not to laugh as you shot him a deathly glare, and of course failed. His smile fades, turning into horror as he watches you slide his cock in the midst of your cleavage, lip quivering as you drop an orb of your own spit on his tip that was slightly peeking out.

Choso’s hands grip at a cushion nearby on the sofa as you began to clamp your breasts together around his cock, moving them both up and down— throaty whimpers instantly emitting from him as you reinforced the stimulation on his still sensitive girth.

“Nghh—,” He cries out, mouth left gaped as he felt yet another foreign knot forming in his stomach; somehow identical to what he felt before orgasm, but just stronger.

“It’s too.. too much,” His words come out in a whisper, Choso’s let’s stamping the sides of your arms as you were anchored between them— his whiny voice trembling as he felt yet another impending orgasm that was about to hit him even harder.

A devilish smile plasters onto your face as you occasionally stuck a tongue out to chafe over his throbbing tip, Choso only able to let out deep grunts this entire as he occasionally looked down at you in a state of euphoria.

“Agai-n, I’m.. cum..” Incapable of finishing a sentence, his tit engulfed cock twitches, much thicker ropes of white shooting up into the air, dropping back down into your chest as it splatters droplets everywhere.

Choso’s head feels heavy at this point, his eyes lazily scanning his surroundings as he spots you decorated with the white drops that somehow managed to make its way to your face too.

Getting back to his senses, he attempts to sit up, legs still weak but with enough strength, his first instinct was to tend to you; the same hands clawed in your scalp making its way back to your cheeks as he kissed you so lovingly, his teeth nipping at those lips that were wrapped around his cock a few minutes ago.

Him being the first to pull always, it seems Choso has a request of his own. “..Get on the sofa,” he instructs, no sign of a stutter left to be heard within his words.

Chewing on your bottom lip, you beam a sinister smile as your aching knees rise off the ground— followed by you throwing yourself onto the sofa beside him.

You watch as he slightly jerks his cock, his eyes watching you take your turn obey orders. Raising your hips slightly to make things easier, you stripped the last of your garments; kicking away your underwear to the other side of the room.

Choso mirrors your actions, kicking off his shoes and trousers as he follows with his knee settling between your legs. You look up and survey his every move as his fingers yank at his bow tie, loosening it overall— his hands still trembling as he attempts to undo all buttons of his shirt.

You giggle, reaching down playfully toying with yourself as you place a foot on his bicep, shamelessly exposing your pussy even more to him as he peered down at you in utter silence.

Finally stripping away his shirt, the bow tie keeps its place and hangs around his neck— your impatient self subtly grinding against his thigh— your slick evidently leaving a mark on his skin.

“Just fuck me, Choso..” You whisper, sticking a finger into your leaking hole that has been that way ever since you made out with each other. Your words examined his ability to maintain his composure, Choso felt that it was time you did the things he wanted you to do.

His breathing hitches, Choso sucking in a breath as he leans in closer, as he guides the tip of his cock to align with your hole. An unoccupied hand grabs your legs, hoisting both on each of his shoulders.

Folding you into a mean mating press, your arms encircle his back, your moans tickling the shell of his ears as he slid himself in— throaty grunts also sounding from him.

Choso begins to move his hips slowly, your mouth gasping at his girthy cock stretching you out completely— his face buried into the crook of your neck as his hot breath fanned against your skin.

“Faster.. faster Choso..” You plead, his hips immediately snapping into you at a faster pace, his lowly grunts returning to the familiar whimpers as your gummy walls wrapped around his entire length. Feeling him in your gut, you chant his name like a prayer, Choso doing his best to fuck you in all the right spots.

A loud moan slips past your lips, your manicured nails scratching at his chiselled back like a kitty and it’s scratch post. As he fucked you into the sofa, something similar to a growl was heard from him as you dragged your nails down his entire back; surely leaving an evident trace of you behind.

Seemingly not enough for him, he uses his knuckles by your sides to prop himself up- Choso grabbing your ankles into the grasp of one hand and pushing them down further and infront of him this time.

On the verge of losing his mind, Choso’s hips brutally fuck into you, his cock deeper than ever— a white, creamy ring forming at his shaft.

His heart races at the sight of his thick cock disappearing in and out of you down below, Choso almost hypnotised at the sights as if he were eyeing a pendulum. His hand lets go of your ankles, grabbing for the edge of the sofa above your head— cock drilling you mercilessly into the cushions.

You mewl and whine, utilising maximum strength to keep your eyes open and hold a good view of Choso, his free thumb reaching down to swipe a stripe on your cheek as he coos a few praises at you.

The position you were in as of now had been churning both of your minds, Choso admittedly finding it difficult to continue fucking into you as he was about to cum at any given moment.

“Fuck,” he sucks in a breath through clenched teeth, eyes looking into yours as he studied your facial expressions, “So pretty,” Your cheek eventually fits into his palm as he fluctuates the pace at which he was fucking into you— nothing but satisfaction and adoration to be seen in his eyes.

His hips rut into your hole slow and deep, your hands grabbing at his wrists as you felt him bullying your cervix— cock endlessly rubbing between your walls, tip seldomly hitting against your sweet spots.

The legs of the sofa creak against the floor boards, eventually beginning to scoot itself to another side of the room. You couldn’t care less about consequences you might face with the downstairs neighbours tomorrow.

Strands of his hair stick to his forehead and temples, your fingers hooking around the strap of his necktie to pull in him closer, your lips yearning to have his on yours.

Your walls uncontrollably clench around his length, Choso’s head falling back in bliss; his mouth emitting short, overwhelmed breaths for a few seconds.

Your tits press against his chiselled chest as he fucks you silly, almost as if it was payback for treating him like he was clueless. Did you really think he’d let you boss him around?

Choso’s leans down once again, mouth sucking and leaving marks all over your breasts as he feels himself coming to one of his many orgasms today— buckets of sweat glistening over his physique like a glossy finish.

You grab at his bicep, slapping it repeatedly to give him notice of your impending orgasm— Choso planting a wet kiss on your lips to quickly swallow the ‘O’ your mouth had formed.

He instantly slides his cock out of your hole, taking his length into his fist as he pumps himself slow. His fingers fan over your clit as he ushered you to orgasm and make a mess, so desperate to have you cum all over him. Alternating between sticking his middle and ring finger inside, Choso curls his digits up as he jerks his fingers inside of you.

Your head peers down to see his forearms flexing with his every move, your eyes rolling to the back of your head; squelching noises coming from your pussy.

“Don’t…don’t do that-“ Your brows furrow, lips returning to its O shape as you attempted to hold his wrist as he continued to curl his fingers into you. He knew what he was doing. Choso wanted to make you squirt.

His pleas fucking your mind to an extent, it felt like a mixture of bliss and torture— your eyes struggling at this point to remain open.

“..Come on,” He urges, so needy as he strokes his cock as in-front of you as he watches how you unravel underneath him; Choso slapping his heavy length on your inner thigh whenever he has the chance. “Come on pretty, let go—“

“O-oh, Choso—“ You squeal, fingers reaching and scraping at his pelvis as he got back at you for fucking him up to overstimulation. Your nipples sore and perky, he had to resist the urge to suck on them again.

He spits out his words closely together, pressing his forehead against yours for the second time as you peered your eyes up into his.

“Come on, come on- that’s it,” Choso cooing at you as you released your juices all over his fingers, a sob could be heard from you as a hot flush rushes through your body.

His hand absolutely soaked as he pulls out, Choso nonchalantly wraps his mouth around his fingers, sucking on your slick— his saliva mixing in with the shining fluid that covered his hands.

Pulling you closer to his pelvis by hooking his two hands around your thighs, Choso slips himself back into your hole— your inner thighs soaking with juices.

A mutter of curses under his breath, Choso absolutely loved your warm walls taking his cock whole, his girthy length moving with ease due to the present slick.

Choso was on the verge of losing his mind once again as he realised that he literally got you to squirt less than a few seconds ago, his cock desperately throbbing all over again.

His cock fucks in and out of you, this time cautiously slow as he made sure not to cum inside of you— your clenching walls making it a difficult task for him.

Too sensitive, Choso pulls his cock out with haste, slapping his tip against your clit as he released his own load just outside of your pussy. His entire face flooded with rouge, cock profusely leaking; his grunts in synchronisation with his throbbing balls.

With the use of his tip, Choso pushes the load back into your hole, his cock completely stilling inside for the time being.

Your mind in a daze, you let out a sigh, Choso’s hand caressing up and down the side of your legs as he remained anchored between them.

“We literally just fucked off with the baking. Went and did a whole other cream pie…” You scoff, hanging your head off the sofa, an upside down view of your kitchen filling your vision— everything still left exactly how it was on the countertop.

Silently laughing, Choso takes your leg into his grasp, his head turning to the side as he plant a kiss on your calves. Bringing a hand down to your hole, he stuffs a digit or two in, scooping a few beads of his cum allowing it to coat his fingertips before moving his hand closer to your lips.

“..Milk delivery,” Choso chimes, mimicking his first words from outside your door earlier.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24 . all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not repost on a third party platform.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts! it means the world to me. ily all soo soo much!

[luvwestwood masterlist]

[dayasusays]

could you write a degradation dirty talk type bruce!! i imagine him to have the BEST dirty talk

oh, anon, he has the best dirty talk.

bruce is experienced, mature and i can tell he knows how to treat a woman.

warnings ! — SMUT, headcanons, fem!reader, husband!bruce wayne, dirty talk, cunnilingus, maledom, praise, compliments

summary ? — bruce has the best dirty talk.

౿ . . ` ౨ৎ ENJOY 🦇

husband!bruce wayne, who knows what his words do to you and uses them skillfully.

husband!bruce wayne, who only needs to open his mouth and talk to make you wet.

husband!bruce wayne, who massages your clit through the fabric of your underwear and whispers “so wet for me, yes? yes, princess, just for me?”

husband!bruce wayne, who will occasionally take a break from your clit just to talk; sure, he doesn't look like the kind of man who would be distracted by conversation in the middle of his favorite business, but my god, your face when you moan disappointedly is worth it, “are you okay, love? should i stop?” and he says it all with a satisfied soft smile, as if he doesn't realize at all what a mess you're becoming after him.

husband!bruce wayne, who's just admiring you and the way you're watching his movements. “that's it, love. my wife is so delicious,” he straddles your thighs and spreads them a little wider, not forgetting to look you straight in the eyes, “i could stay between those thighs all day. you're so beautiful from this angle,” he's so good with his words that you want to cum right now.

husband!bruce wayne, who knows where to push and where to kiss; with each movement of his tongue, your legs tense up more and more, and your hands reach for his hair, pulling him closer, closer, closer...

“so impatient,” bruce continues to murmur, “let me enjoy, princess, don't be so unfair,” he leaves a kiss on your clit, making you clench around his fingers. you lean back and try to relax, but it's almost impossible when the rough pads of his fingers press against the tender walls, “good girl,” he whispers and still continues to suck on your clit, “look at you. so beautiful when you cum.”

husband!bruce wayne, who fucks you so deep and slow that with each thrust you seem to see stars. “you were enthusiastic when we started,” bruce pulls back your hair a little, leaning over and whispering right into your lips, “look at you. cumming on my cock for the second time,” he speeds up a little as his fingers find your clit; it takes you a couple seconds to cum again, “good girl, so good.”

husband!bruce wayne, who continues to whisper short “my beautiful girl”, “that big cock makes you cum again, doesn't it, love?” and “you're so fucking tight”.

husband!bruce wayne, who wants another orgasm from you. he wants to empty you; to fuck your brain, to make you forget everything that might be in your pretty head. he pushes deep into you, unbearably slow and sensual, so that you want to scream out how good it feels, ”are you okay, my love?” bruce strokes your hair, twisting a strand on his finger as you mutter positively in response, “great, because i’m not going to stop until i fill you with my cum.” ୨♡୧

sorry for delay ! still having a little rest :)

like, comment & reblog? <3

🦇 abt me | m.list

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Hiya 😍 so I would like to request about dark! Agatha Harkness and fem!reader with smut cause she hot when she evil

Mommy’s Good Girl

Dark!Agatha Harkness x fem!reader

Summary: How long have you been here?

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, kiddnaping/manipulation, Agatha uses magic to mess with your memories, enchanted strap, breeding, Agatha uses magic like it's a drug on you

Word count: 955

A/N: Kinda struggled with what I wanted to do with this, but I'm happy with what it turned into

It had been a few months since you had come to Westview. You couldn't remember when exactly, but you found yourself living with your girlfriend, Agatha Harkness. Though she never allowed you outside of the house.

“It's dangerous out there dear. Mommy knows best.” She'd say and your mind would go fuzzy. Big thoughts leaving your head.

“You don't need all those big thoughts baby. Those are for Mommy to deal with.” You had no room to argue. You weren't even sure you could. The words alluding you completely.

You weren't sure why your brain always got so fuzzy after you'd ask a big girl question, but it always did. A purple tint in your eyes that you'd blink away along with those thoughts.

You were curled up on the couch one night with Agatha, her arm wrapped around your waist. Your head on her chest as she rubbed your thigh. You felt a wetness pool between your legs as you looked up at her.

“M-Mommy?” You dared ask, but she'd just shush you as she carried on until you were squirming. Your hand tightening into a fist on her shirt. Another plead falling past your lips as she looked at you with faux concern.

“Oh dear you're so silly. You know you're only good for Mommy’s pleasure, right?” Your face scrunched up in confusion. What was she talking about you had never…

A purple tint covered your eyes as you closed them tightly. That familiar fuzzy feeling back. “That's Mommy’s good girl. You're going to take what Mommy gives you and then you're going to forget like you always do so Mommy can enjoy that innocence of yours dear.” You groaned, trying to push away, but you had no strength. Another tint of purple and whispered words in your ear, “You want this dear. Don't run from Mommy.” Your eyes widened, everything only becoming fuzzier. You couldn't make out anything except her.

“Mmm Mommy…icky…” you squirmed, rubbing your thighs together.

“Oh? Do your princess parts feel all icky?” she cooed and you nodded. A wicked smile crossing her features. “Don't worry Mommy knows how to fix it.” The look you beamed up at her was her favorite everytime she did this. That look of innocent bliss of her being able to fix you. You would look so innocent until she was was three fingers deep. Fingers moving roughly to build you up only to stop just before you were there. A whine pushing past your lips only for her to push you. A snap of her fingers and you were both naked, how did she…? You never had time to finish that thought before her strap was pounding into you. Your mind goes absolutely blank. The only words you could form now were,

“Mommy, please! S'full Mommy!”

“That's my good girl. Taking Mommy so well. You're Mommy’s little pleasure doll aren't ya?” she asks and you nod, in your fuzzy state this was all you ever wanted, her, all of her, all of Mommy.

“Yesh Momma! S'full! Love it s'much!” You cry out feeling your coil tighten up. Your eyes widening looking up at her as you feel it get tighter and tighter with every thrust. She's hitting just the right spot relentlessly. Until you're pushed over the edge. Your coil snapping as you screamed and moaned out, clawing and biting on your Mommy. She whispered little praises in your ear.

“Mommy’s good girl. That's it. Let it happen baby. Mommy’s taking care of the icky feeling. Let it all out.” As she fucked you through the orgasm, the fuzziness dissipating, you tried pushing away. Overstimulation setting in.

Purple. Blink. Fuzzy.

“Mommy still needs to cum baby. Mommy’s gonna breed you like she always does and maybe this time you'll be good and give me what I want.” You groan at her words.

You could feel the overstimulation, yet you moved your hips with her letting orgasms rip through you, tears streaming down your cheeks that Agatha so kindly leaned down and licked off you with a moan.

“You're so pretty when you cry. I love seeing you all broken beneath me.” You felt her thrusts quicken, her breathing pick up. “Mommy’s cumming baby. Gonna fill you up and breed you baby. It's all your good for. Mommy’s breedable pet.”

“Yesh Mommy yesh…” you managed out, your throat hurt from screaming and moaning. She did a final rough thrust, hitting the deepest parts of you as you felt her fill you. A moan ripped from your throat, “Mommy’s breedable pet…” made its way past your lips.

“Such a good girl. It's too bad I have to take your memories.” Confusion on your face as you looked up through the haze as you saw her eyes glow purple and a purple mist come from her hand towards you.

“No Mommy please be good! I'll be good!” You tried to argue as waves of memories hit you of every time this happened. How long you'd actually been here in this almost constant fuzzy state. It wasn't a few months. It had been a few years.

You looked up with pleading eyes, more tears falling, you just wanted to be Mommy’s good girl. You couldn't live without her. Why would you want to? She takes care of everything even if she's kept you trapped here as her sex doll, her breedable pet. You didn't want to be anything else. You didn't want to forget.

You blinked, eyes feeling heavy. The room spinning as you tried to fight it. “Want Mommy please…be good…good baby, good pet.” Your words are slurring.

“Shhh sleep.” Purple. Blink. Darkness.

Maybe someday you'd convince her you wouldn't leave, but today wasn't that day.

[thedivineden]

Bible Study

pairing: tomura shigaraki x reader

Genre: smut

Tags: Fem!, Dubcon, religious themes, manipulation, sexual themes, age gap, no quirk, breeding, unprotected sex, dumbification

“No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other.” Matthew 6:24

“Our Father, Who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name; Thy kingdom come; Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” Over and over, you could hear the man in your ear. Whispers of the Lord’s Prayer embedded on your brain, you must think of something else, anything else. “Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us” you could hardly contain yourself as you opened your eyes, the from the stained glass windows seem to illuminate the indiscernible halo perched on his head. “and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.” He had you hooked, “Amen.”.

“Amen.”

You could hardly contain your excitement as you marched out the door towards your parents. Your session with Minister Shigaraki had you on cloud nine. Even if you couldn’t interact with him for more than 10 seconds before someone else is running up to him, being in his presence is a blessing. Despite the initial annoyance, you understand the effect he has on the congregation. Not only is he incredibly handsome, but his words have a way of touching people.

“Come on sweetheart, we need to get home. We can’t be late to dinner.” responding with a quiet yes ma’am you trail behind you family. Shuffling down the corridor and out the door you could feel the July heat swell around you. Even with the barge of people you still manage to catch a familiar smell of spice and soft sage. He’s nearby. Whipping your head around you see priest shigaraki a few feet behind you with that dazzling smile plastered on his face.

His movements are so smooth, the way he weaves through the crowd halts you. It felt like time was moving slow, In a few strides he was in front of you, smiling from eye to ear. It didn’t matter what it was, you were always available to talk to Father Tomura. In a few strides he was in front of you. It felt like time stopped for you two, there was an undeniable connection and you know he felt it too.

“I’m glad I caught you, it seems like you leave something every Sunday. It’s almost a routine” he says with a light chuckle, you knew he would come running after you. He’s the reason this doltish crush continues. If he allows it, then the lord is truly on your side. “Apologies minister, I am rather forgetful.” Laying your hand upon the scarf you brush his hand lightly pulling away. “I do have a rather important matter to discuss with you. Can you meet me in my office after Tuesday night bible study.” Immediately a smile stretches across your face replying with a sheepish yes, “I knew I could count on you, have a blessed darling and stay out of trouble!” The moment he turns from you the world seems dull.

Sunday dinner came and went as normal, it was nice to spend time with family but draining when it comes to your older cousins. They made it very evident that the Priest is only reason to attend church. “I bet you he’s never even fucked someone before, he screams virgin.” Your cousin jasmine says passing the phone to your cousin Brianna. “ No girl, he’s definitely fucked before. You should see what he looks like under the robe.”

That statement alone makes you ears hot. How the fuck does she know what he looks like under his robe. As if she knew you were looking at her, she whipped around to face you smirking. “What’s wrong cuz? Got something you want to ask?” Flustered wasn’t even the word for you right now, you wanted to know. “H-How do you know what he looks like under his robe?” Without another word, jasmine is closing her room door turning the lock. “You have to promise to keep this a secret, we didn’t know he was getting undressed.” They were watching him get undressed?

Would God punish you for this? The pure terror you felt is all the conformation you need but the heat swelling below beckoned for more. “I only want to see because I don’t believe you.” Eyes rolling jasmine pulls out her phone, scrolling through her photos she throws her phone across the room at you. Landing next to you is a photo of the man himself.

Minister Tomura in the back room of the church, cerulean hair pulled back with his robe draped around his waist revealing his large carven chest. Your eyes were glued to the screen. Looking up at your cousin, cheek hot, you ask “can you send this to me?” Giggles and laughs erupt from the two as your throw the phone back to her.

The moment you arrived home you set to finish your chores and participate in night prayer. “Sweetie, can you lead the prayer tonight?” A feeling of shame seem to wave over you and disappear once the intercession began. “Now I lay me down to sleep” you can hear a voice in the back of your head. “I pray the Lord my soul to keep” maybe it’s a spirit trying to send a message. “Watch and guard me through the night” the voice whispering how they will watch over you fills you with warmth. “And wake me with the morning light.” Implicitly wishing father tomura would bless you with his presence, the image of his rope hanging off his waist fresh in your mind. “Father, you know my worries and care for my troubles.” Opening your eyes you can see your mother in front of you, eyes closed reciting the word unaware of your sickly desires.“So I give these heavy concerns to you, Amen.”

“Amen. Thank you sweetie, I love you. Goodnight”

Your night was far from over. It seems as if your knees are bolted to the floor, your ill feeling can only compare to shame and guilt. What would mother say if she knew I was calling out to our pastor instead of the lord. When you heard a ding come from your phone all shame null in your mind, you knew what it was and your mind was racing.

Getting up from the floor you close your bedroom door triple checking the lock before running over to your desk. Phone in hand you make your way over to your bed climbing under the covers. Your heart is racing the sound of it thumping in your ears.

Opening your cousin message eyes landing on the fatal image you saw earlier. Just the thought of him made you immoral, sinful thoughts plague your mind asking the lord for forgiveness before you’re rolling up your nightgown. You swear you can smell spice and sage as you trace shallow small circles around your clit. God, please forgive me.

What would he think if he saw you like this? Your finger speed up whimpering for the man craving for release. Chest heaving you can imagine him over you, praising you, fondling you. The thought of it all sends you over an intense orgasm strikes through you. Sitting up in your bed throwing your legs to the side you slide down to the floor on your knees and pray for your transgression.

Waking up on Monday morning was dreadful for you. Your body felt heavy and your mind is racing, thoughts of last nights dallying has you shaking you head. I need to get it together. Minister Tomura was a background thought as you went to class. Your day is as normal as it can be taking your exams, thinking about priest tomura, attending office hours with your professors, masturbating in the bathroom to his picture again, volunteering at the homeless shelter, and begging god for forgiveness in your driveway.

Mentally you were falling apart. Laying back in the seat you recount your day. The photo of your very own priest has plagued your mind. You were beyond forgiveness, there is no way you’ll be able to look him in the eye on Sunday. He would call you a pervert. What if your mother found out? The buzzing in your ears seems to increase with every thought. Your chest felt tight breathing becoming ragged and shallow. How could you be so disgusting?

Before you have a chance to spiral again a knock on your window startles you. Reclining your seat forward you see an all familiar cerulean head of hair. The universe seems to be playing a practical joke on you, why would your pastor be in your driveway. “Why are you sitting in the car?” Nope, this is definitely him, and you could hardly stop the disgusting abstractions from popping up. Punishment is due soon for you.

After having a short and awkward conversation with Minister Tomura in the driveway, you both made your way through the front door and towards the dining room. You didn’t even have a chance to ask what he was doing here. What if he knows about the picture? “Oh! Minister! I’m so glad you were able to stop by! Go wash up sweetie, dinner is almost ready.”

Palms sweaty you head up the stairs to your room. Your stomach has a mix of butterflies and ill. After freshening up you put on some comfortable clothes and head downstairs. your ears were practically on fire trying to hear the conversation from the steps. Rounding around the corner met with the eyes of your mother, father, and pastor seated at the dining table. “Hope the party didn’t start without me” letting out a nervous chuckle you take a seat next to Tomura.

The smell of spice and sage dance at the tip of you nose, his smell is intoxicating sitting so close to him makes you want to pounce. Who cares if your parents see. You’d suffer through the embarrassment if it means you can having him buried inside of you. “Did you hear your mother?” snapped out of your daze your eyes dart across the table. “Aah apologies Minister, my child has a tendency to daydream.” you can hear a small chuckle come from the man. It sent chills down your spine.

“This is the first time I’ve seen her like this. She’s so vocal in study, I don’t know what I would do without her.” in that moment you felt like your heart would jump out your chest. There is no way Father Tomura hand is resting on your thigh. You immediately put your hand on top of his offering a small smile. This is the best night ever. Once dinner is over you start clearing the table retreating to the kitchen placing the plates and pots into the soapy water.

The sound of the clanging pots drowns out the sound of your parents and guest laughing. You didn’t even notice a presence behind you until you felt hands on your shoulders. Tilting your head up you’re greeted with a toothy smile. “H-Hello Minister, is there anything you need?” disappointment crashed on you when his hand left your shoulder. “I just wanted to know if you need any help? It would be rude of me not to help my favorite congregant.” You were his favorite? It fell so smooth out of his mouth it made your knees weak

“Of course Father, I would never deny your help. You’re a good man.” You can hardly think straight. Why is he so silent? What if he thinks you’re gross or trying to hit on him? You can feel his slender finger under your chin lifting your head up to meet his eyes. “You think I’m a good man?” small shocks flow through your body, you were hot under his touch. “I do! I think you’re a good man. I’ve seen how you connect with people it’s like you get them not only physically but spiritually an-“ his lips on yours send you into overdrive.

“Thank you for your hospitality and the lovely dinner. I’ll see you at tomorrow night bible study?” turning to you, offering him a small nod, he wishes you and your family a good night. Heading to your room you close and lock the door. You can still feel his lips on yours, you would give everything to him if he asked. Tuesday morning came faster than you thought soon you were out the bed and on your way to work. Tomura being the first and only thing on your mind. Was he thinking about you too? Of course not. He has better things to worry about than some kiss.

It wasn’t just some kiss to you, thoughts about how soft his lips were and how your tongues dances with each other. Recalling how his hand slid around your waist holding the small of your back. His finger no longer under your chin but sliding through your braids. You were on cloud nine. How could he not feel the spark between you two, you belong together. Once you arrived at work your mind shifts between holding meetings and filling complaints out you had no time for distractions.

Only when your workload is complete and you’re in the car the excitement hits you. You have to know what the kiss meant. Your unwavering devotion and desire for him expands beyond the holy gates. He’s all you can dream of, who you touch yourself to — he is truly deserving of worship and praise. Upon arriving to the church you sat in the parking lot for ten minutes asking and pleading with God to lead you on the right path to guide you with strength and compassion.

The horde of teens and kids comes into view once you lift your head up, you were going to need to head in at some point. Exiting the car you make your way to the double oak doors, the moment you step in you notice the empty pews making your way to the back room.

Past the open doorway you have a clear view of an angel. Everything about him is heaven sent, from his slender jawline to his scarred lips. Every inch of him is perfect. “Good evening Minister” it’s so sweet and natural in your mouth your excitement dissipates the moment he opens his mouth. “We’re holding independent group sessions, you have your own. Good luck.” he didn’t even give you a chance to respond leaving you stunned as he sits at the opposite end of the room.

He avoided you the whole night, it felt like your heart was shattering. It’s infuriating. You actually thought he would be interested in you? Now you’re watching him laugh with members of the church. The quicker you can leave the better. Making your way out you exchange pleasantries with familiar faces. Standing right by the door is tomura, greeting him with a smile you ask “Is there something I can help you with father?”

“I hope you’re not leaving we having had our discussion yet.” his unwavering smile made you feel delicate, you didn’t even notice how he stepped forward backing you away from the door. All you want is for him to hold you in his arms and never let go. “No, I was just stepping out for some fresh air.” with a reassuring smile he steps aside holding the door open for you. “Head into my office when you get back, I’ll be done soon.” softly nodding you make your way outside.

Your mind is reeling the only thing that keeps you sane is praying. ‘Heavenly Father, thank You for Your great faithfulness in my life. I choose to flee from lust, because I know You will empower me to follow righteousness, faith, love, and peace with all who call on you out of a pure heart. Amen.’ once your mind is at peace you head inside gunning for the ministers’ office.

You hear the large double doors slam shut and lock the sound of his footsteps down the corridor. The hair on the back of your neck is raising your hands bunching the ends of your dress out of nervousness. Once the door opens he’s apologizing “I’m sorry I kept you waiting.” Taking a seat in the leather brown chair his arms immediately crossover his chest. “What we did last night was inappropriate. I have to apologize for my transgression” your heart is thumping so hard, if you don’t say something now you’re going to lose him.

“I have a confession father.” lifting his head up to look at you made you neurotic, “I-I haven’t thought about anything else since last night, if I must be frank, I think about you a lot even in the most shameless ways.”. Eyes bouncing between the floor and his gaze, his expression is unreadable a sigh leaving his lips he says “Confess your sins child and I can set you free.” Patting his lap you get out of you seat circling around the amber desk swiveling the massive chair around you find purchase on his thighs. You can feel his slender fingers snaking around your waist palming at your sides breath hot on your ear he whispers “what thoughts have been tormenting your pretty little head?”

All confidence went out the window the moment he spoke those words into your ear, “It’s too embarrassing to say, I don’t want you to think less of me.” The grip he had around your waist tightened “my sweet flower, I could never think ill of you.” planting a kiss behind your ear you body involuntary jolts forward. The friction between his pants and your cotton panties made you melt. God has answered your prayers.

“I touch myself whenever I think about you.” No words left his mouth he only hummed bouncing you on his thigh. Small whines escape you lips, your bodies were so close. He sighed at your naivety “Is that all, those th-“. “Even now as I sit here I can only think about your touch.” your mind is blank the only thing you can focus on is grinding. release is your only concern. The grip he had around your waist tightened halting your climax.

Tears fall from your eyes “I’m so sorry father, I-I didn’t mean to!” overwhelmed with shame and arousal trying to squirm out of his grip. “Don’t be disobedient. Let me take care of you, get rid of impure thoughts” picking you up bridal style he sits you down on his desk. “Lay back for me sweetheart” obeying his command you lay back on the desk holding the end of your dress over your panties.

A low chuckle follows this action your hand jerked away from your dress. “Don’t get shy on me sweetheart. You were just riding my thigh, confessing your sins. You feel no shame.” His words were harsh, but he only spoke the truth. Father Tomura is never wrong. His words were harsh but you knew he would never steer you wrong. “Be a good girl and I’ll make sure these thoughts go away.” standing in between your thighs you can feel his hands sliding up your legs.

Slowly he trailed caressing and massaging every inch of you. His touch is so soft and soothing the butterflies in your stomach, it made you feel loved. Working his way up your panties sliding your underwear off. You don’t see him bundle them up in his pocket as he brings your legs to his shoulders. Tomura bent down swiping his tongue through your slit without warning. Your thighs snapped around his head — your hands attempt to push him off, as the grip he had around your legs tightened he forces your legs open.

“Tomura~ please.” your pleas were null to him. “It’s Father Tomura, if you can’t get it right you won’t get anything at all.” pouting you relax your legs allowing him to dive in between you legs. He was gentle and reassuring at first. Tracing small circle on your clit teasing your hole with his tongue. Whimpers and prayers fall off your tongue fingers tangled in his hair. Tomura could hardly contain himself sucking and pulling at your clit. Tomura wants to see how far you can go, how much he can make you cum.

You were so sensitive, his actions were beyond making you cum. He wants to feel you around his dick moaning and screaming his name. Deciding to speed up the process his finger ghost over your hole trying to get his fingers wet with your slick before easing his fingers into your sopping cunt. His eyes are zoomed on you — he’s watching the way you grab the desk, the spit spilling out the corner of your mouth “Ahh~ Tomura, slow down.”. Completely disregarding your request he continued to pump his finger curling them to hit your sweet spots.

The pressure in you stomach is unbearable you were practically begging him to slow down. Just looking at you made hard. He wants to fuck you into the table, tears rising in your eyes he takes this moment to slide is fingers out and unlatch from your clit. Eyes wide you try to make an escape before he slaps your clit hard. “No! Please!!” all of your tension and shame is washed away letting the pleasure surge through you. You were soaking, wetting the minister and his robe pathetically covering your face with your arms.

The best part about this is he has full view of your cunt clenching around nothing.You’re practically begging for it. Untying his robe let’s it fall to his ankles pulling you to the edge of the desk. His juice soaked hand came up to you face slightly caressing it as he teases your entrance with his tip. His movements were so smooth — one moment he’s leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead, next he’s bullying your cunt with his cock. “Repeat after me, Lord, forgive me for I have sinned before you. Wash away my sin, purify me, and help me to turn from this sin.”

Your eyelids were heavy you reaching for something maybe some solace from his dick kissing you cervix. Eyes fluttering open you can see the furrow of his, the stern look he is giving you reminds you that silence wasn’t an option. His hand rose again coming down on your clit with force. A squeal erupts from you as your hips jolt forward, breathlessly you recite the prayer “Lord, f-forgive me for I have sinned before you. Aah~ wash away my sin, purify me, and help me to turn from this sin.”. The way your cunt is convulsing around his dick makes him feel invincible. The sounds you’re making alone sends him over. He’s only focused on release.

His dick jumped at the thought of desperate inexperienced girls opening their legs for him. You were the perfect vision of sin. “Father Tomura~ I can’t hand-“ you words cut off by his lips smashing onto yours. “Just push a little hard for me sweetheart, I know you can do it. Look at how easy you’re taking me right now” you response were incoherent and thats exactly how he wants you. His groans made the tensity in your womb crack. You wrap your arms around his shoulder and tighten your legs around his waist.

His kisses and stormed become messy and deep, it felt his smell is suffocating you. He wants to absorb everything you have. Feeling the way your cunt is fluttering and gushing around him it’s begging to be filled and defiled. “You’re such a good girl, I’m going give you a reward. A present from god.” Burying his head in the crook of your neck satisfaction is all you felt. Your orgasm takes a new form within you, nails digging into his back your hips are fucking into him chasing, pleading for relief.

His pace is brutal the thought of filling your lewd cunt made his mouth water. Drool coaxing the side of your neck a low growl causing your body to shake “cum f’me sweetheart~”. Fireworks exploded through your body, you can hardly formulate words as squirt cover both your abdomens. The corners of your eyes succumb to darkness as Father Tomura restlessly pounds into you. His teeth engrave your neck, praises and apologies fall off his tongue, “M’gonna fill you up. You’re such a good girl, squeezing my dick like this. M’gonna give you what you want”.

His grip is shaky the twitch of his dick is evident, he’s hooked your legs around his arms deepening the position. Tomura felt pure bliss being buried in you, his mind was hazy, the once relentless pace faltering as he fills you up. The only sounds in the room were shallow breaths, lifting his head you expecting pure joy across his face. Disgust. “You’re so disappointing. I thought you were better than this.” As he let your legs sliding out of you, he continued his verbal assault. “You seduced a holy man and allow a man who isn’t your husband taint you.”

The room feels cold. You rose quickly reaching out for him catching his arm. “I’m sorry father! I am disappointing! I-I can be better, I can do better! Snatching away from you he rounds his desk sitting in his chair, almost instinctively you were in front of him on your knees. One of his hands gently grasp the side of your face. Wiping the tears from your eyes. “Show me.”.

[catladyhere]

Humans Are Space Orcs

Right?

Okay, so, what if aliens were to see what our kind had developed merely for entertainment purposes, which is a completely baseless IDEA of what we expect aliens to be like.

This is the one that got me thinking. Alien Isolation. The absolute horror that we have spent time and effort to create, to scare ourselves. Because a Deathworld wasn't fucking enough. It's enough to send a human screaming and whimpering. An (apparently) apex predator species.

It was a random day in the space station where sentient beings of all kinds worked at. One of the more adventurous Jlorps, against their good judgement, decided to ask human Oliver about his favourite horror 'entertainment'. Horror was a fairly new concept being slowly understood by the other beings, but how an instinctive reaction in the face of imminent doom, was a pastime, or even a FAVOURITE pastime, was beyond them. However, Oliver could not resist showing them what a Xenomorph is.

Jlorp Ilof watched, frozen in sheer terror, as they saw what the human mind considered terrifying, suddenly remembering all the serious advice that others of his kind, and other aliens too, gave them regarding this particular killer species. What's worse, was that Human Oliver was e x c i t e d to show them their kind's work, which was meant to scare them, which has stopped being scary on account of Oliver not accepting defeat.

"Well.... what do you think?" Oliver asked carefully, as he had observed the previously confident Ilof, slowly start to change their colour from a bright yellow to a dull purple, their kind's indication of feeling fear. He could not help but cringe a little internally, as he really should have thought things through before introducing a prey species to something that scares a good number of his own people.

Ilof spoke after a while, trying to think how they will forget what they saw a minute ago. It was downright traumatising for them. Humans alone were capable of terrifying most of the beings in their galaxy, what were they even thinking, asking their human friend what they were scared of?

"But... why? Why is simulated terror entertaining??" Ilof asked, as they did the Jlorp equivalent of wiping one's cold sweat.

"Because." Olive protested, "It gets our adrenaline flowing. It's a 'flight or fight' response from our brain, when we're in danger. If you subtract the danger from a situation, and add the comfort of knowing you yourself will be safe, it only leaves behind a racing pulse, which... well, it makes us feel alive."

Ilof was at a loss for words.

Human beings liked being in danger, but not dying. But they'd also heard stories about how some humans had readily jumped in the face of danger, where death was certain, to save their comrades. There were too much information in their head, all of them either connected or contradictory.

"Okay, Oliver, so let me get this straight, your kind feels dead at times, somehow, and you simulate death and destruction, to soothe said 'deadness'?"

"Precisely." Oliver beamed, which made the Jlorp further uncomfortable.

"I think I will retire to my work station now."

Ilof never asked another human being, what 'horror' they liked best, choosing to religiously follow the advice from other aliens who have experienced humans and their bizarre rituals and pastimes.

#EarthIsSpaceAustralia

#humansarespaceorcs

[coffee-and-tea-time]

𓆩♡𓆪 ｢better that sleeping pills｣ 𓆩♡𓆪

Hi! Coffee being delusional speaking! This time I was wondering

How did you deal with your sleep problems, dear?

TW: stalking, yandere behavior, delusions, insomniac reader, sleeping pills mention, somewhat willing reader, light paranoia?

Yet again another night dealing with insomnia, being told over and over that you should stop using the phone at night and, instead, pretend to sleep, that eventually dreamland will come to you like that. People that don't know what it is to be alone with thoughts and exasperation. But once again, you try to do so, hoping that maybe this time it would actually help.

tik tok tik tok tik tok

How much time has passed? Seconds? Minutes? Hours? You try to keep your mind on blank but it's impossible at some point.

An unexpected sound catch quickly your interest although you can't really recognize it, trying to dismiss it, thinking must've an hallucination or something outside, in the silence of the night, people tend to be more perspective to any sounds, right?

And just like a bad plot, once your body relaxes, you hear that sound again. . . Unconsciously welcoming the return to old habits, covering more with the blankets and turning around with the eyes still closed, as if that will make a safe shield.

Alright, this isn't your first rodeo, your brain's favorite hobby surely is playing tricks to scare the hell out of you. Taking a deep breath to relax once again, choosing to be delusional to forget everything has to be the best option right now.

What about if the sounds are because a stalker helplessly in love with you just broke into your house? A good night kiss on the forehead sounds lovely, maybe the dark romance or Tumblr posts are affecting your brain already but why care? Cuddling to sleep with someone that loves you unconditionally sounds like a perfect situation, you wouldn't really mind your sleeplessness if you could have that.

Although the normal will be calling the police, why do so if it's not a threat? In your mind, you picture your perfect obsessive s/o, no need to worry about being cheated on if the only thing in his eyes is you, no need to worry about being too much, no need to worry about his feelings ever fading away, isn't that perfect? Yes, it may come with some disadvantages like everything, but nothing you can't handle, you just need to love them, and they will be happy on a daily basis.

As you smile because of your silly fantasies while looking 'asleep' on the outside, you hear an even more unexpected sound. . . a whispering.

“oh, are you having a good sleep? It worries me how long it takes you to sleep every night, it's gonna end up being awful for your health. Maybe it will be better if I start using sleeping pills on you? You always do so much, you need a good rest, my cherry”

You stay still, unable to think what to do, a light but sweet smell invades your nostrils. Does this count as manifestation? Why is he already calling you by a pet name?

“My lovely cherry, my heart ache when I think about how exasperating must feel to hear the constant naging of those who don't really care about at least try empathize, if only I could help with something, I won't think it twice”

Feeling a gentle caress on your hair makes you wonder, this doesn't feel bad at all. Common sense screaming that you need to worry but the warm feeling of his touch disperse that though faster than you're willing to admit.

“Mmm, maybe my desires are taking over my brain already? But I think a perfect medicine for you will be if you snuggle in my embrace, I promise to have the right temperature for you to be comfy all night… if you just let me kiss that addictive face of yours, it will be enough payment for even my soul if you wish to have it”

His voice… sounds familiar, do you know him? 

Even if you recognize that self-preservation should be a top priority, it's hard to care when his voice is this honeyed, using the exact words that attract you like a bee as if he can read your mind. As you feel a faint kiss on the top of your head, you start to ask yourself…

Is bad manners not to reply when someone speaks to you, isn't it? Or maybe it's better to keep pretending to sleep to see what he usually does?

Decisions decisions…

➤ keep pretending

➤ Say something

sorry for any misspellings or weird sentence structure ❣

images from pinterest

[mymelodyisme]

🥺😭 HONEY ITS SO SO PRETTY THE COLORS EVERYTHING MATCHES SO BEAUTIFULLY NY EYES ARE GRACED 🥺😭

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @mymelodyisme ILYSM 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

Everybody go wish her a happy birthday rn 😤

[cottonlemonade]

Just Use Me

word count: 649 || avg. reading time: 3 mins.

pairing: Tendou x chubby!Reader x Ushijima (by proxy)

genre: hurt, angst, unrequited love, heartbreak

warnings: I mean it, this is sad

synopsis: Tendou falls for his best friend’s girlfriend

When you start dating Ushijima, Tendou is happy for his best friend until Toshi introduces you and, unfortunately, you turn out to be his absolute dream girl from your sweetness and perfectly cuddly figure to your weird humor, taste in music, hobbies - everything seems to match him more than Wakatoshi and a small part of him really begins to hate his best friend for meeting you first.

Especially, because he comes to Tendou for dating advice and it feels horrible to coach his friend how to be romantic with you, to give him suggestions for dates, pointers for compliments and remind him to show you physical affection, too. He hates to see how the perfect gift Tendou had helped Toshi pick out makes your face light up and you wrap your arms around your boyfriend, barely reaching up to his neck. Having to stand on your very tippy-toes you give him an excited Thank You kiss.

To his credit, Toshi immediately informs you that Tendou helped him and the red-head’s heart stops as you turn and your blindingly gorgeous smile is then directed at him.

When you hug him he freezes for a moment before returning the embrace, holding you so closely that it’s almost natural to take a deep breath of your scent. He wants to scream in frustration when you laugh and let go way too quickly. Your warmth still clings to him.

After weeks and weeks of this torture you come to him one day for help because you feel like Toshi might not be the right fit for you as he seems rather confused by the fact that you like to show affection by hand holding, hugging and “… and kissing” you add quietly, cheeks blushed.

That small part of Tendou begins to roar and claw at his throat, trying to make him tell you to dump him then because you deserve better. But he also knows that his best friend is kind and loyal and while he is awkward at showing it, he likes you very much.

And so Tendou encourages you to talk to your boyfriend about your concerns. He feels his lungs burning from suppressing the words he really wants to say instead.

For another few excruciating weeks after this, things seem better for you. He sees you around town, holding Toshi’s hand, glowing with happiness.

But after two more months he spots you sitting on a park bench by yourself. It’s late and he knows you had plans with Toshi that evening.

He comes up to you and asks what happened.

Every fiber of his being tenses when you tell him that Toshi broke up with you. His reason being that it was too much for him to satisfy your need for closeness.

Although, Tendou knew that his friend meant that he wanted to but didn’t feel like he could, he curses him because he could have worded it better.

You begin to cry - again, judging by the puffiness of your eyes.

And now Tendou begs for the words to stay inside. But all the soundless pleas are in vain.

“You can just use me to forget him.”

“What? Tendou, I’m - I - I could never do that to you.”

“Sure you can. I don’t mind. - Really.”, he adds, brightly.

When you don’t say anything but just more tears spill from the eyes he adores so much he lets out a shockingly convincing laugh, “Just kidding, y/n. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it. I’ll talk to Ushiwaka.”

And your face lights up a bit.

“Really? Thank you! So much. You’re amazing.”

“I know.”, he says casually, but feeling like he might break into a million pieces if he stays a second longer, “I’ll call you later, alright?”

And he leaves, not stopping the tears running down his cheeks as soon as his back is turned to you.

a/n: why is my brain making me so sad at work? I love Tendou🥺

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N ::: You are moaning in your sleep, saying "Ken", being restless. And you wake up and see him staring at you, he asked what you were dreaming about and well … the rest is history.

C/W ::: Sexy Ken. I'm tapped out as far as brain power goes so just don't read this if you're under 18, please and thank you.

MDNI Under the cut

You awoke to Ken shaking you gently by the shoulder, "Hey, y/n, wake up. You're dreaming." He put his hand against your clavicle and rubbed your chin with his thumb. "Wake up, hey …"

Your eyes shot open and you looked up at him like you were still dreaming. But no, he was here. Next to you and had been the whole time.

"What was that all about?" He asked, sleep still in his voice.

"N-it was nothing." You kissed him and rolled onto your side to face him.

"THAT wasn't nothing. What were you dreaming about?"

"You're not going to let this go, are you? Ok, fine. You were … ugh … you were touching me. Okg'night."

"Oh yeh? Where?" His voice was husky now, and his hand was up further on your throat.

You gestured downward, and you saw his eyes light up.

"Where exactly? You'll have to be more … specific, honey."

His voice was dangerously low now, and his eyes were darkening.

You pointed to your right thigh, and he raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, there? Well, that's not a very fun spot to be touching, now is it?" He moved his hand up your thigh, and you squirmed a bit.

"But that's not where I was touching you. Now was it? C'mon. Tell me the truth, angel. Wanna hear you say it."

You pointed to your cunt and he growled.

"That's more like it, baby. That's where you were touching yourself earlier in the shower, was it not? Naughty girl. And now you want me to help you with that. Don't you? You want me to help you reach all those deep spots that you can only dream about getting to without my help, yeah? Tell me I'm right. Say it."

You nodded and whimpered as he traced his fingers along the elastic on your panties.

"Don't just nod, baby. Use your words. Tell me … show me where you want me to fuck you. Tap on that cunt and show me how wet you are. C'mere, c'mere."

You shuddered at his words and nodded again, this time more vigorously. "Please," you whispered. "Please. Fuck, please!"

He smirked and leaned over to whisper in your ear. "Gonna be screaming my name so loud. So fuckin' loud the neighbors are gonna call the cops on us."

You moaned as he started rubbing your clit through your panties. "Gonna make you cum so many times that you're gonna forget everything but my name. And then I'm gonna fuck you until you can't walk. "

You were already panting by now, and he was still rubbing your clit. "Please, please, please," you whimpered again. "… need you 'n'side me."

He chuckled and started to pull your panties aside.

"Ask nicely."

"P-pl-please … oh god, please …"

You gasped as he slid one finger inside of you.

"So wet, baby. Bet you've been thinking about me fucking you all day, haven't you?" He slowly slid in and out of you, and you could feel yourself getting closer to an orgasm.

"Yes, fuck, yes, yes …" You bucked your hips and moaned as he added another finger.

"That's right, baby. Let it all out. You're gonna cum so hard for me. I'm gonna make you cum so fuckin' hard."

You reached down and started rubbing your clit as he fucked you with his fingers.

"That's it, baby. That's it. You're almost there. Just a little bit more, hun-nee." His tone was dripping in sarcasm. That only fueled the fire growing inside of you to reach a new burning point.

Your moans grew louder and louder, and you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

"Cum for me! All over my fingers. Do it, baby. Let me hear you scream my name."

You cried out as you came, and he pulled his fingers out of you, climbing on top of you. "That's a good girl, baby. Now it's time to make you scream." He kicked off his boxers and pulled out his cock, which was rock hard and already dripping precum.

"Oh fuck, yes. Please fuck me. Ken … please ... fuck!"

He pushed inside of you in one smooth motion, and you threw your head back in pleasure. "Oh my god, yes! Fuck!" He started thrusting in and out of you, and you felt yourself getting close again.

"That's right, baby. That's it. Cum for me again. Cum … hah … all over my - fffffuhh - cock. Fuck!" He groaned and started thrusting faster and deeper, and you cried out as you came again, your walls tightening around him. "That's it, baby. That's it. Cum for me again. Cum for me, baby. Cum for me, again, baby!"

He was thrusting even harder now, and you were on the verge of tears from the overwhelming pleasure. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" He started groaning and grunting, and you knew he was close. "I'm gonna cum, baby. I'm gonna cum! Fuck!" He let out a low moan and came inside of you, filling you up with his cum.

Pulling out of you, he kissed you. You could taste the saltiness of his sweat on his lips.

"Filthy fuckin' baby girl. Fuckin' never gonna get enough of that." You smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck, breathing in his heavy scent that was dripping in sex.

"'M yours. Forever, baby. All fuckin' yours. Mean it."

@ryuuc00chie @katkusuo @kazutora-kurokawa @arlerts-angel @darkstarlight82 @southside-otaku @viburnt

[pedroshotwifey]

Christmas Countdown Day 6 - Javi P.

Take It

Pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader

Word count: 908

Tags/Warnings: No use of y/n, (could be seen as) dub/noncon, rough piv sex, like really fucking rough, overstimulation (f), daddy/papi kink, aftercare implied but up for interpretation, stuff im forgetting, pussy slapping, kinda dead dove, when I say they nasty I mean they nasty

Summary: The one where Javi fucks your lights out

A/N:⚠PLEASE READ⚠ Alright, y'all. This one can be interpreted a few different ways. It obviously jumps right into the smut, so there is nothing to tell you what kind of relationship Javi has with the reader, or how they got into this situation. That being said, this can be seen as something that Javi and the reader talked out beforehand (maybe they have a safeword), or it could be seen as dub/noncon. The choice is yours as there is nothing in this fic to hint that either of those are what's happening. Thank you for reading <3

***

“Javi, please!” 

You sob as he rocks into your sensitive and overused cunt. Through the tears in your eyes, you glance at the digital clock on the nightstand next to the bed. If the time is right, that means that Javi has had his dick buried in your pussy for about an hour now. 

You have no idea how he does it, how he can bring himself to the edge so many times only to repeatedly deny himself. How he forces you to stay still until he backs off the edge and is able to keep going. How he, somehow, manages to get you to fall apart over and over again while he does so. 

You lost count of your orgasms after four; at that point, they had started to mesh. Everything had, really. 

“Shhh,” Javi says, continuing to pound into you. “You can take it, hermosa.”

He has you face down, ass in the air. One of his hands is wrapped in your hair, and the other on your waist, both working to pull you back to him to meet his thrusts. Your hands are just as useless as your arms at this point, scrambling to find something to hold onto without success. 

Your cries and pleas are accompanied by Javi’s grunts and heavy breathing, which mixes together with a wet slapping sound that echoes around the bedroom. The atmosphere is humid and thick with the smell of sex, making your mind even more hazy.

Your body is acting on its own at this point, completely detached from your brain. You faintly register a coil tightening in your abdomen, pulling tighter and tighter until it snaps.

You cry out as your orgasm wracks your entire body, your cunt convulsing around Javi’s still-hard dick. He grits his teeth and shoves himself even harder into you, slamming into your cervix and making you jolt forward.

He stills but holds you close, his cock nestled deep inside you as you ride out your orgasm and he regains composure. He loosens his grip on your hair slightly as he leans in and showers you with praise.

Good girl, that’s good.

There you go, come all over my cock.

So perfect, bebita, take me so good, make Papi feel so good.

Once you deflate against the mattress, he resumes his movements, slowly picking up his pace again until he’s pummeling into you and tears are streaming down your ruddy cheeks. 

Your skin is tacky where it meets with Javier’s pelvis, the moisture there accentuating the steady slaps and making the contact sting more with every powerful thrust.

You barely register him telling you he’s almost finished, another something about you being good for him. If not for the constant reassurance, you wouldn’t believe that you could keep this up.

“…one more for me..” he’s saying in a far away place. One more. Just one more.

You’re too preoccupied with that thought, repeating it over and over in your scrambled mind, to realize that he’s moved one of his hands. You scream when he makes contact with your clit, a sharp slap that lights nerves across your entire body. 

He slaps in quick succession, the resulting sting making your hips buck backward as you try to get away from it. Each time you do so, you impale yourself further on Javi’s dick, and he moans loudly, whereas it causes you a light pain, it spurs him on.

Every nerve feels like it's on fire and you swear you’re going to black out by the black that swirls into your vision. You hear yourself begging, pleading for him to be done, and then a strangled cry as you come around him again. 

You’re completely fucked out, your body limp and your ears ringing. Your eyelids drop closed and you have no control of what comes out of your mouth, which isn’t much but a few wet and whiny breaths. 

You think Javi is saying something again, but the harder you try to listen, the less you hear. Just a soft grumble coming somewhere from far away.

Half a dozen more thrusts, and suddenly Javi’s pace is messy and uneven. His grunts grow deeper and his breaths more aggressive. you feel yourself being lifted up onto your knees, Javi’s arms being wrapped around you, and his head resting on your shoulder as he groans. 

You frantically grasp at his forearms for purchase as he finally stills inside to let his cum paint your walls. His cock throbs and pulses inside of you, making you whimper with even the slightest movement. 

When he’s done and his cum is spilling down from around his cock and down your thighs, he waits a few minutes, just catching his breath, and then he pulls out. He does it slowly, but even so, your body immediately falls limply onto the mattress without his support. 

He tuts from behind you smooths your messy hair down, a gentle touch after using you so recklessly. You’ve stopped crying, your breaths evening out slightly. Every cell of your body is exhausted. Completely spent. When your eyelids drift closed again you don’t bother to stop them. 

“I’ll be right back, Hermosa,” Javi says as he gets up and pulls on his tight jeans. There’s a sudden smokeyness to the air that tells you he’s already lit a cigarette. He pets your head one more time before exiting the room, but by then you’re already asleep. 

***

I would appreciate some input on this one because I am actually working on a dark!Javi series right now. Don't feel like you have to, but if you enjoyed this dynamic, please let me know! Thank you for reading either way! <3

Biggest, fattest thank you to @mandoalorian for hosting this challenge!

Link to prompt list

No tag list just in case

[gingiesworld]

Family is Forever

Chapter Nine

Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader

Warnings: Angst.

Taglist: @fxckmiup @ginnsbaker @gb12d @angrywhisperslove @louxbloom @casquinhaa @natashamaximoff-69 @wizardofstories @canvascoloredin @wandanats-goodgirl @forthelesbians @the-ox-fan20 @marvelogic

18+ MINORS DNI

In the midst of trying to race to Billy's decathelon, Y/N had never expected they would be stuck in this position. Hanging upside down as the seatbelt kept them locked in their seat. Forgetting to put their phone on charge, and unable to get to it as it rang consistantly until the battery drained.

Hearing the sirens, screams and yells as the chaos unravelled around them. The sounds of the machines and tools being used as the emergency service worked as hard and fast as they could to get everyone out and free.

Then they soon blacked out for a moment until they come back around, hearing someone call their name.

"Y/N?" Maria called out as she knelt beside the car, looking in through the passenger side.

"Ria?" They spoke weakly as they tried to turn in her direction.

"Don't move ok." She told them as she looked around at the chaos unfolding.

"Billy." They whispered as she gave them a sad smile.

"He's ok. They won by a landslide." Maria told them as they shook their head.

"I broke my promise." They told her. "He's going to hate me."

"No he won't." She told them. "He'll understand." She looked back to see Steve on his phone.

"What?" Nat questioned as she couldn't quite hear him over the noise of the accident.

"Y/N is hurt." He yelled to her. "It's pretty bad Nat."

"Where are they?" Nat questioned as she looked inside at Wanda and the twins.

"They're still trapped in their car. It's a pile up and they a right in the middle of it." He told her as he heard her gasp. "Maria's with them now."

"What do I tell Wanda and the boys?" She asked him.

"I don't know yet." He sighed. "We're still waiting on more hands to come and help get everyone out."

"I can't just not tell her." Nat yelled which caught Wanda's attention.

"What's going on Nat?" She questioned as she left the twins. "Did Maria finally find Y/N?"

"She did." Nat answered as Wanda scoffed.

"What was their excuse?" Wanda questioned defensively.

"They're trapped in their car." Nat told her. "It's bad Wanda. The emergency services are trying to get them out but."

"What?" Wanda questioned as her heart pounded in her chest. Her legs going numb as she held the wall, Nat's lips were moving but she couldn't hear anymore.

Y/N and Wanda raced against time once they had got the call to return home. Already learning that their father had died on impact but their mother was in a medically induced coma.

They waited for hours until they had gotten any sort of word from the doctor. The words 'no brain activity' resounded in their head on repeat. The doctor had given them the privacy to say goodbye before turning off the machine.

Wanda remained by their side through the whole time. When they sobbed as they stood by her bedside, the moment the machines were turned off and she took one last breath.

Y/N stood over her as they looked at her greying face, the cuts and bruises were prominent. Wanda's hand in their own was all the grounding they needed, ensuring that they aren't alone in this time of need.

Wanda remained as she helped organise the funeral for the two. Following their parents request and buring them together. All of their friends and extended family paid their respects. Y/N greeted them all at the wake, a small smile plastered on their face although they were completely shattered inside, but they were too proud to let that show. Only Wanda knew how they truly were, she would hear them in the middle of the night, hiding away in the bathroom as they sobbed quietly. Something that Wanda never really saw, but she made sure they knew she was there for them, through everything.

"I can't lose them Nat." Wanda whispered as she used Wanda's phone to call her brother to take the twins. "I can't. I won't survive."

"Wanda, they will be fine ok." Nat reassured her. "Y/N is one of the strongest people I know."

"We don't know the extent of their injuries." Wanda told her. "Hell, we don't know how long they have sat upside down with another car crushing them!"

"They're getting Y/N out." Steve told the two as the phone was on speaker. Maria stood back slightly as she watched the emergency services work at getting them out.

"Where are they taking them?" Nat questioned as she could hear Steve ask.

"Jacobs Pres." He told her.

"We'll be on our way." Nat told him as he nodded. Maria watched as they carefully examined Y/N before getting them out. They had lost conciousness moments before which had worried Maria. She hadn't spoke a word or moved away from them, until she handed Steve her keys.

"I'm going in the ambulance." She told him as he nodded. Knowing to follow in her car. Nat and Wanda had made it to the ER, waiting until they were brought through.

"Do you need me to drive?" Maria asked as they declined.

"They're flatlining!"

"Just let me drive!!" Maria yelled. "I am a detective at the 94th."

"Drive and get us there fast." The other paramedic told her. Maria nodded as she started the journey. Saving Y/N was the only thought on her mind.

Wanda and Nat stood up as Maria helped push them through. Approaching her as Maria couldn't go in any further.

"How are they?" Nat asked as Maria shook her head, tears filling her eyes as Wanda's heart broke.

"No." She whispered as Maria started to explain what had happened in the ambulance.

"They managed to get them back but they had been in cardiac arrest for a good few minutes." Maria informed the two. Wanda covered her mouth as she sobbed, Nat led the two to the chairs as they waited for hours.

"Have you heard anything?" Iryna spoke as she approached the three.

"What are you doing here?" Wanda asked her weakly.

"Pietro told us when we rang at the usual time." She told her daughter who only collapsed in her mom's arms.

"We haven't heard anything yet." Nat told her as Wanda sobbed into her mother's shirt. Oleg stood up and approached the desk, talking with the secretary quietly.

"They are currently in surgery." He informed. "They were rushed straight there after the head CT, but that's all they can give us for now."

"I can't lose them." Wanda whispered as she held onto her mom for dear life. She knew in that moment, she wanted to keep them in her life.

"Wanda?" Pepper's voice sounded through the room. "Where are they?"

"Surgery." Wanda hiccuped as she fell into Pepper's embrace. "They can't tell us anything else."

"They will be fine." Pepper whispered reassuringly. "Y/N is the strongest person I know."

"You sound just like Nat." Wanda giggled as Pepper smiled.

"Let me see if I can get more information for you." She left the group to talk with the secretary. Talking in hushed tones before the secretary had left the desk. Moments later, a doctor had came through the double doors.

"Mrs Maximoff?" They questioned as Wanda stood up. "Y/N is still in surgery as we speak, they have multiple rib fractures, a broken collarbone and humerous. They have a collapsed lung which we have had to re-inflate. We are just finding the source of the internal bleeding as we speak." Wanda just stared at them as they spoke. "I wish there was more I could say but, there isn't just yet."

"Thank you doctor." Iryna thanked them before they disappeared back through the doors. "They will be fine Wanda."

"They will think Billy hates them." Wanda told her as Maria nodded.

"They do." She told them. "They told me before they lost conciousness. They wanted to apologise to him so fucking bad and it broke my heart. They kept saying they broke a promise."

"Billy will understand the situation." Nat reasoned as Maria just looked at her wife.

"Yeah, but what if Y/N doesn't make it? They will die thinking their son hates them." Maria spat as Nat tried.

"Y/N isn't dying!" Wanda yelled as everything looked at her. "Y/N won't leave the boys." She whispered, almost wishing for her words to be true. "They won't leave us." Iryna just sat with Wanda, her arms wrapped around her in a comforting manner.

It was another few hours before anyone had come to speak with them, reaching 7am. Wanda had fell asleep on her mom's shoulder as Oleg's jacket covered her like a blanket.

"Mrs Maximoff?" A tired looking doctor spoke up, soon enough Wanda was sat up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. They then proceeded to take a seat opposite het as the others soon gathered for the news. "We had some complications due to their injuries. The hours of surgery and the time they had been trapped had took a toll on their body." Wanda listened as they explained everything. "We did lose them for a moment but we had managed to bring them back again as I understand they had also flatlined in transit."

"Are they ok?" Wanda pressed tiredly as they nodded with a gentle smile.

"They are critical but stable." They told her. "We will need to see what symptoms they may have once they wake as their brain had went a while longer than intended without oxygen."

"But they will be ok?" Wanda questioned sadly. "They will still be here? Alive?"

"They aren't quite out of the woods just yet but we will do everything that we can to keep them here." They told her softly as she nodded.

"Can I see them?" She asked as they nodded. They led her to the room that they were recovering in. Wanda gasped as she saw them covered in stitches, bruises, casts and gauze. She hadn't really expected it to be this bad, she wasn't truly prepared as she let out a shakey breath. Approaching the bed with caution and taking their hand in her own.

"How long until they wake?" Iryna questioned as she watched her daughter fall apart internally before her.

"There isn't any telling on that." They informed her. "It is now all on them. I'll leave you be but I will be back to check on them." The doctor left as everyone slowly moved to the bed, Iryna beside Wanda as Oleg wrapped his arm around the two as Maria stared at them emotionlessly, ignoring Nat's reach to comfort her as she left the room. Only standing outside before she collapsed to the ground, sobbing into her hand.

[hotchfiles]

passenger seat.

pairing: seth cohen x fem!reader.

summary: you try so hard to help your best friend seth recover from his broken heart you forget about yours

content warnings: underage drinking, mentions of sex and drunk sex. the timeline is like... beginning of season 2, when seth comes back and finds out summer is dating zach. yes i'm gonna work on a part 2 i'm not that mean.

word count: 1,8k

      Summer Summer Summer Summer, it's honestly annoying how Seth can not seem to be able to talk about anything else anymore. And sure it has been like that since you were children, but since he was able to catch a glimpse of what dating her would be like and then lost it, well, he was down right impossible to be around.

      "Cohen, you're getting out of this bed right now, and you're getting some good music in your brain." You pull the cozy blankets from him with full strength while he tried to fight for it.

      "First of all, my brain is always full of good music. And second of all, My Summer is gone, my sun, all I have right now is the cold of winter and the solitude of being single, leave me in the warmth of my bed, please."

      You rolled your eyes and actually felt like you could reach enough to see your brain, his antics were usually amusing but Summer Summer Summer, you almost felt like warming up his face with a punch, but instead you took a deep breath, let go of the blankets and got closer to him, taking advantage of the element of surprise and pushing him out of his bed.

      "I have concert tickets, whiny baby, and Suuummeeer won't get back to you ever if you look that lame." That sparks his interest, you can see, and you're left to pretend it doesn't sting just a tiny bit, what matters is that he gets up and gathers some nice clothes before heading to his shower.

      "You're mean today, stop hanging out with Ryan," he yells from a distance, probably hoping it won't give you enough time for a snarky comeback. Obviously, he was wrong about that assumption, you both grew up together, you could almost predict what he would say already, you were always with a reply on the back of your mind.

      "We're taking turns so you stop being an ugly crying whiny mess."

      "Oh... That's why we took a cab."

      You stare back at him hoping he won't open his big mouth as the bartender serves the several, several shots of tequila you ordered using the not so good fake I.D you handed him. Although Orange County wasn't the best at keeping minors away from alcohol (beachy city full of rich kids) you still didn't want your plans to be ruined at the very beginning of the night.

      "Seth, I'm getting you hammered so you feel better for a night, and I don't hate you for a night." He seems concerned for a second, but knows you well enough not to argue, just as much as he can be annoying with his longass monologues, so can you, and you're not afraid to use violence if needed, misogyny needs to come in handy somehow, and not having your best friend fight you back has got to be it.

      You slide his half of the shots towards him and start quickly gulping yours, only half way in reality sets that maybe, maybe, that was not your best idea. But by then Seth was also doing his own shots and laughing as the tequila burnt his throat, his nose and lips twisting around each time.

      You hear screams and realize the band is probably beginning the set, so you get your beer and give one to Seth, and he makes a comment about how you weren't kidding about getting him hammered, but you almost can't hear him as you pull him by the shirt running so you both can get a reasonably good spot.

      Cohen was a Death Cab for Cutie fan, you knew it, everyone knew it, and if there were any concerts, meetings, or if you had their addressees, you would've chosen them for tonight, but Coldplay was all you could get last minute to get your curly haired boy out of his fortress of solitude at least for one night.

      You both enjoyed some indie rock music so the concert was fun from the start, especially with the alcohol that went straight to your brain as company to the songs that made your body move ever so slightly. Seth obviously didn't dance, he made it quite the point not to, "this is music to enjoy, not to dance, don't disgrace us like that," he says in between laughter and hiccups, giving his beer a tiny sip only because honestly he can not stand the smell of alcohol anymore.

      "Stop being such a looooser, dance with me!"

      You took the bottle from his hand and threw it along with yours on the nearest bin, leading his hands to your waist. This isn't weird. You don't think it's weird, but weirdly, Seth doesn't think it's weird either.

      You're more than thirty minutes into the concert and it's not a slow song at all, Don't Panic roars from the stage and from the audience, you both try to keep up to the rhythm, guiding him to twirl you around and showing him a two step easy peasy dance to follow.

      Seth almost falls down, you both laugh uncontrollably, he's way too drunk for this, you're way too drunk for this, his hands go back comfortably to your waist, as if it was a rooted reaction already, you felt your stomach turn as the music notes changed and you knew what song was coming.

      You looked up and Seth was already looking at you, his beautiful brown eyes staring at yours like he had just discovered something new.

      He wanted to kiss you, he really did, was that weird? Was that bad? Maybe he was too much in his head, and maybe he was too drunk, but he was single and you looked at him like that and you were oh so beautiful and trying so hard to make him smile and maybe he shouldn't because he was still hooked on Summer—but was he really? The more he looks at you, and the more you don't look away, the more he thinks that maybe this is just how things are supposed to be.

      And he didn't even notice what song was playing, too busy paying attention to your breathing, only when your drunken self decided that for some reason this was the time to confess, if anything, you could just play it off as if you were just singing along to Shiver "you know how much I need you, but you never even see me," and before you can hide your eyes and glue them to your feet, Seth pulls you by your neck for a sloppy drunken kiss, your hands grab his shirt but you waste no time and kiss him back.

      Both of you couldn't even wait for the concert to end, leaving and getting into the nearest cab you could find as soon as you can let go of each other for air. His address at the tip of your tongue not mattering how drunk you were.

      You get into the mansion tripping around as you try to kiss each other, not make a sound that could wake his parents, and also find his room, and when you do you almost fall on your ass due to his goddamn skateboard being right in front of his bed, you end up laughing out loud, but Seth closes the door before anyone can hear it.

      "I'm starting to think your parents won't like me sleeping over."

      Guilt starts creeping in and you're not even sure why, like you're doing something bad, something that won't be approved of, your best friend looks at you with a warm gentle smile, pulling you to him by your hand and having you sit on his lap as he's on the edge of his bed, both of your legs on each of his sides, your arms go to his neck.

      "My parents love you, they probably love you more than they love me. Ryan loves you more than he loves me." An overreaction, that's what that is, and you know it, very dramatic that boy, but it gets you giggling and you lean in for a tender, long kiss. but a question pops your mind and you stop it, you're not sure if it's the time to ask it, you might be ruining your only chance to have Seth.

      But you have to.

      "I know that. The real question is... Do you?" Your teeth nervously gnaw on your bottom lip, and Seth knows he loves you, he would never hesitate on that, so it's easy for him to get you close and touch your forehead with his, even if he doesn't know right now if it's the love you're looking for, he knows right now he wants to be with you, so it must be right.

      "Of course, Dumbo."

      You roll your eyes and push him till his back hits his bed, continuing what you two had started and leaving sloppy kisses to his neck as your hands found themselves under his shirt, your hips purposely taking advantage of your position and grinding slowly down his crotch, you imagined it would be easy to get Seth moaning but you didn't think it would be that easy. You loved it.

      You were both horny drunk teens, it took minutes for your clothes to be on the ground and for Seth to be inside of you, your legs surrounding his waist and your fingers pulling on his hair. And it isn't weird, it's familiar, it's hot, it's sensual without the need to pretend to be anything else. It's the best you've ever had simply by how connected you feel to Seth.

      You sleep into his arms, feeling his scent and you're afraid this is a dream you're soon to wake up from.

      You do panic when you wake up at 5A.M, not feeling like facing the rest of the Cohens after what you did to their precious son, Seth was still sleeping like a beautiful baby and you wouldn't wake him up, you hoped he wouldn't be mad at you for leaving without saying goodbye, but you brush your lips against his before sneaking out and you feel like the world is about three times brighter.

      That is, until 8A.M. you took a nap in your own bed to at least pretend you were home during the night, and woke up to Seth's texts after he woke up.

cohen: i rmbr coldplay cohen: i rmbr tequila cohen: nd i rmbr laughing a lot cohen: so even tho i might die of a hangover, thx cohen: might txt summer yellow lyrics dont stop me

      The lightweight bastard had forgotten everything, everything that made your night special. And went right back to Summer talking, maybe you should've just punched him the first time you thought about it.

[whynotjohnlock]

Doctor x ADHD reader

^ My mental state at any given time when anyone asks about what happened yesterday.

Warnings: fluff, It might be a tad long, Grammar mistakes, you may feel slightly offended if you're a nerotipical person, the author wrote this because they didn't want to sleep and needed comfort.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You'd forgotten something again. Was it about your job? Your family? Your friends you hadn't kept up with because you had misremembered the dates for? That one hyper fixation that you had today?

Nothing matched. Your brain was screaming at you for the time you wasted rethinking about what you had forgotten; but nothing came to mind.

A normal day then.

Then, as a distraction from your thoghts a high tech laser blaster thing punched through a brick wall and you started running for your life. Again.

There were alien pepper shaker robots with plungers. Why where they just repeating themselves over and over? Was that just how they spoke, or was there more to it? Was it nessasary to the way they shot lasers?

"Exterminate! Exterminate!" A laser jolted and swished right next to you.

"Right, I have to run."

And run.

And run.

And run. Except, now you had to not crash onto the person-

To late.

"Oh, hello humans! Is this your way of saying hello? Did I miss a decade?"

You reluctanly graped the strange man's hand. You were not fazed by the oddness in the queston; your thoghts were stranger. "I don't think so. It's just the fact that there are alien pepper shakers with plungers after us."

The man's face darkened, his youthful peesona flown out the window. "Where?"

You knew that the police would be of no help and the sadness in this man's eyes seemed to be familiar. "Can you help us if I tell you?"

"Short answer: Most likely."

"Now witch way?"

The question prompted eternal panic. Witch way was left? You couldn't remember. Were you facing north or south? You couldn't just point in a direction, because you had run in a extremely non-linear way.

Words had never been an accurate source of communication for you. Why were you this way? Well, you knew why; you had been diagnosed with ADHD, but that didn't answer your question. Why did you always forget the things you wanted to remember most? The strange man looked rather inpatient at your mental sputtering. You had to do something! So, you did the only thing you could think of at the time. Quickly you grabbed his outstretched hand and ran, guiding him though the chaotic path you had taken.

Your mind had not managed to retain much running for your life, but your feet did.

 ...Pass the blue house. 

...Turning 90 degrees at the broken stop sign. 

...Jaywalking around the stopped cars in the street.

...Turning again after the nameless black dog.

...Though a corporate building.

…And to the familiar building with the tin tanks.

your hand still fully clasped with this stranger you had just met, you spoke in between panting and gasping for air. "This is it. These are the alien metal tank creatures."

As if on cue, the screams not even across the blook started up again and an army of daleks (Not that you knew what they were called at the time) turned into view.

The madman lurched forward in outrage much like a predator looming in on their prey. He was unnerving. "Alright listen up! I am the Doctor, and you are the daleks! You have no right to this world, and It’s protected by none other than me. And you have made a grave mistake messing with me when I don’t have a companion, or anyone to holding me back. Leave before I run out of mercy."

"THE DOCTOR IS UNARMED. WE WILL DO NO SUCH THING."

EXTERMINATE!

A laser shot from the thingy that would have hit the silly man instead wiped by him as I pulled him into a run again.

Hiding behind a dumpster in an abandoned alley the Doctor fiddled around with a metal glowy stick and welded something together from his pockets quickly. "What are you doing?"

"No time to explain, get me some sort of electrical circuit board!"

"Will my phone work?"

Wordlessly the Doctor takes my phone, prys it from it's cashing, snaps it in half, and conects it to a very peculiar looking device.

EXTERMINATE!

The Daleks find us again but this time we don't run. The Doctor chucks the machine at the invasion party they aim towards us ready to end us.

EXTER-

The Doctor aims his tech stick toward the sky causing his device to activate. The result is instantaneous. Every dalek that was in front of us and firing ends up blowing up in several malformed chunks.

More daleks screech out words as they approach us. "EXPLAIN! EXPLAIN!"

"Ha! I've rerouted the your primary weapon to your self-distruct sequence by changing the commands signals! The doctor is never helpless unarmed, you lot should know that by now."

"RETREAT! RETREAT!"

The Daleks start to be enveloped by an otherworldly white glow and disappear all at once.

The mad man seems to return to an upbeat face and seems to slip his mask back on seamlessly as if the darkness never touched his eyes. He looked again to be a harmless Nerodiverrgent, clumsy and meek as if he hadn't just felled a armada of aliens ready to destroy the earth. he muttered under his breath about inter-galactic law, blissfully unaware of all the odd looks his direction who believed him insane.

It reminded you of the mask you had to put up for all the "Normal" people in your life. How many times had you stopped being every thing you were just for a brief connection?

"Hello, I think introductions are in order! what did you say your name was?"

You plunged back into the real world from your thoghts. "Y/N."

"Well, Y/N, you seem awfully calm considering your planet was just invaded."

"I could say the same thing about you. Also how did you do all that? Are you even human?"

"I'm the Doctor." The man enthusiasticly spoke as if that explained the anomalys of the day.

"Is the your last name or did you just have mean parents that named you Doctor?"

"I'm not human, and it's common for my species to have titles we choose for names."

"Right. I suppose another alien species isn't the weirdest thing that's happened today."

The Doctor broke out into a brilliant little grin. And reached into his coat pocket to grab a little black wallet thing. "Hold on I want to see if I'm right real quick. What's on this paper?"

"Um, It's blank?" I don't think I was catching whatever the silly man wanted me to see.

"You are clever! I knew it! And I do need a companion after...." The Doctor pauses in sorrow and pain.

"Y/N, how would you like to come with me?"

"Um, do you travel or something?"

"Oh, I forgot to mention it, haven't I? I go to lots and lots of different places and meet all sorts of aliens all the time. I hope you know most of them aren't like the Daleks. Millions of planets and galaxys and pulsars and planets up in the sky, one day I'll see them all."

It took a while to comprehend what silly man had just said. You adored the stars. And now this man you'd just met had really just asked you to go with him to see and go to places humans wouldn't go for maybe billions of years!? To boldy go were no one has gone before? (I'm an unapologetically ing references and I'm not sorry.) Was this heaven? Had you died in the Dalek attack?

"That sounds utterly fantastic! You're sure you want someone like me?"

"What are you talking about? You just saved my life and were fearless in the face of a world ending threat. If course I want someone like you."

"I just, usually people don't like the way I think."

The Doctor almost seemed offended. "Do I look like a usual person?"

"Good point."

I looked down in slight embarrassment for bringing it up.

"Hey look at me." The Doctor softly grabbed my shoulder and I tilted my face up to meet his sincere eyes.

"You know what I've found in my nine hundred years of life? I found out the people who get called Quiet or shy have the most interesting thoughts. I found out that the loneliest people end up being the kindest, that the people with disabilities have so much more grit and determination than the people that don't, that the people called slow are the most brilliant when they're done analyzing. that the so called freaks and weirdos of the world are twice as clever and twice as kind."

"Do you know why?" I was near tears and shook my head.

"Because people like you and me have to work twice as hard only to get half as far. We have strength, far beyond that the average eye can see because we're trying to make up for faults by working twice as hard. Our struggles make us more resilient, more creative, and better people. We take it apon ourselves to attempt to appear normal in an attempt to make connections, when in really they should be the ones understanding us."

"You humans are so silly we it comes to different ways of thinking. On gallifrey, you'd be celebrated, not punished for what you call a quote 'disorder'."

I hugged him. I hugged him harder and tighter than any stranger I'd ever hugged before.

Tears. Happy tears flew down my cheek. I loved this stranger, not for his looks or wacky demeanor.

But because there is that silly man's arms I knew again what it felt like to be understood.

We were standing in a world of unknowns, at top a street that had just been invaded but I knew one thing:

"I want to travel with you, Doctor."

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A/N: I'm sorry if you personally don't feel represented in the way I wrote (Y/N) having ADHD and ADD, but I want you to know that I'm only trying to share my experiences as I myself have been diagnosed. I don't want to shame anyone that shares my experiences; just bring them into the light.

[eoieopda]

[visual content blog recommendations]

we see fic recs all the time, but i don’t think i’ve ever seen rec lists for visual content (gif/art/gfx/etc.) creators! they’ve been dealing with a bunch of shit lately between reposts, tumblr garbage, etc., so i wanna shout-out some favorites. thank you for keeping us fed!!

disclaimer: this is not an exhaustive list!! if you have recommendations of your own, please feel free to expand on this yourself and/or drop some of your faves in the replies for others to see. self-promo is always welcome here, too ✨ p.s. some of these are recent finds for me, so pls expect to see more of them on my blog. eta: i will be adding more as i go!!

[bts]

@yooboobies — réka’s gif sets are *chef’s kiss* and the ART? omg. the talent!!! 😭 we simply have to simp.

@cordiallyfuturedwight — apart from being one of the coolest/funniest people i’ve found on army tumblr, i am a kayla stan because the niche themes for her gif sets (ex. bangtan turtlenecks series) feel like they’re made 👏🏻 for 👏🏻 me 👏🏻 even though they absolutely aren’t, lmao.

@hopeinthebox — the bts as reductress headline + incorrect bangtan series are probably my favorite pieces of content on the entire internet??? also, lizzy is absolutely gd hilarious. tags are 11/10. a blessing upon my dash.

@kimtaegis — i’m not visually artistic enough to say this in a way that makes sense, but annie’s gifs are just… stunning? like, the colors? idk about the process that goes into that, but i imagine it takes a lot of time/finesse to be this vivid.

@kithtaehyung — ryen is the renaissance man of army tumblr, fr. not only can she write (like!!!) but she’s multi-faceted and insanely creative with her graphic design. i want her to tutor me, lmao.

@raplinenthusiasts — ooohhhhh my god. the coloring of their gifs makes my brain go brrrrtttt. this bts x the office set is on my “always reblog” list; i’ll share it every time i come across it.

@heybaetae — this set in particular is on my “always reblog” list, no matter how many times i’ve done so already. also, idk how to describe this, but kelli’s gifs are just…. crispy 🤌🏻 like, so satisfying with the…. texture? filtering? contrast? i’m an idiot re: editing terms, but go peep them and you’ll know what i’m trying to say.

@kth1 — literally who could ever forget maggie’s 100 days of (member) series??? the amount of work that had to go into that? unfathomable.

@jeurias — i want to wallpaper my house and office with their gfx. i’m deadass.

@jinstronaut — emmeline has been doing her “a jin a day while he’s away” series for OVER 250 DAYS NOW. i have never been nor will i ever be able to commit to anything to this level.

[multi/skz/atz/svt/etc.]

@starryoong — do not get me started on starry’s paintings, sketches, etc. because i will never shut up. ever. j’adore 🫠 is also a five-star human being.

@irlvernon — my queue is probably 80% max gifs at any given time. god-tier, fr. a must-follow for carats, as far as i’m concerned.

@vcrnons — incredible gifs, lovely human, and also the writer of some of my favorite svt fics??? we stan.

@yelhsaart — i don’t have any words for how much i love their art so please imagine guttural screaming instead. asdfghjkl!!!

@hizuillu — ……breathtaking. legitimately stunning skz art. like…… i have heart palpitations.

@snug-gyu — THE USE OF COLORS. i’m always a simp for pantone-inspired sets; they just scratch an itch in the back of my brain, and BOY HOWDY, is my brain satisfied 😵‍💫

@yunwooz — again, i have no idea what i’m talking about when it comes to the gif-making process, but the colors!!! the COLORS!!! like, taking a mv that’s not super vivid/is fairly greyscale and bringing it to life? ya know????

@booskwan — you want incredible gifs? they’ve got em. you want stunning gfx? they’ve got em. seriously, idk what to tell you except “pause right here and go follow immediately”.

@haechannabelle — listen……. annabelle’s art style is 😗🤌🏻 (that’s a chef’s kiss). the use of color, and the technique, and and and — ! ALSO, i must mention that she took, like, 50 hours to compile a boycott-friendly k-pop playlist. their vibes are simply impeccable.

rev. 4/10/24