#which gives my brain a break from thinking about one to think about another

[tgmsunmontue]

Build you brick by brick... 5/? (WIP)

A Hangster fic that starts with a Lego set...

Especially for @phisworld14... 💛💛💛 May your week improve with every passing day!

PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE PART FOUR

PART FIVE

He makes another copy of his keys and asks Hangman to look after them, gets a look he can’t quite decipher and he supposes he could have asked Mav or even Nat but… it’s too late now. Doesn’t want to take it back. Plus he trusts Hangman to not fuck with him. He would undoubtedly come home and find everything wrapped in newsprint if he gave his spare keys to Nat. He knows this from experience, which is why she doesn’t have a set anymore.

Several more days pass and knows a little how it works now. That Omaha has to get in to Bradley’s house and name his Hei Hei and then decorate another. It seems simple enough, other than the fact that he finds himself an unwitting and slightly unwilling gatekeeper to his own house.

Then he finds the first minifigure in his washing machine and he wonders how in the hell it got there. He doesn’t make a habit of putting things into his pockets other than his wallet, key and phone, so he doesn’t check his pants before he puts them in the washer. Obviously he’s going to have to start, because he can only imagine that little pieces of Lego floating around would wreck merry havoc with the machinations of his washer and dryer. The little Lego Stormtrooper minifigure stares at him and he grins, takes it over to the bookcase and pulls off the flowers and leaves and sets the little Stormtrooper in place. It looks absolutely ridiculous, and he laughs. This is proving to be a wonderful distraction to everything else trying to occupy his brain.

There’s another Stormtrooper resting on his windscreen wiper after work the next day and he pockets it, at least he knows now it’s in his pocket. Then he finds another in the pocket of his flight suit. Then Mav gives him one with a quizzical expression and it forces Bradley to explain the whole thing, and it’s nice to have something so easy to talk about, something that isn’t an emotional minefield of conversation.

He has four Stormtroopers and he’s wondering just how many are going to take over when there is someone knocking on his door; it’s not even eight on a Saturday. When he gets to the front door there is no one there, but there are two cups waiting on his doorstep, one holding a large coffee and the other mostly empty, except for two more Stormtroopers, a bright blue lightsabre and a little Omaha name plate. He’s pretty sure the man running away in the distance is actually Omaha and he shakes his head and goes back inside. Plausible deniability. It might not have been Omaha.

He arranges the remaining two Stormtroopers around the Hei Hei and then fiddles with the wing and lightsabre so it looks like the Hei Hei is about to take all the Stormtroopers out. Then he affixes the Omaha nameplate to Omaha’s Hei Hei and wonders what he’s going to do with eleven nameplates that read Hei Hei.

>>Another one bites the dust. Fanboy, looks like you’re up.

Fanboy>> Man that’s looks cool! Damn I gotta step up my game!

…            …            …

He thinks he’ll have a few days reprieve, that’s how the pattern has been so far, but then there’s a knock on his door Sunday morning and when he goes to open it Fanboy is standing there grinning, holding out a hot coffee and a bag from the bakery that’s located between his place and the base assignments. Bradley takes the coffee and bag from Fanboy’s outreached hands and steps back to let him in.

“Hey man…”

“Hey. What are you doing here?”

“Well… I’m following the rules to the letter. Like… Do you mind putting this on?” Fanboy asks, and he’s holding out –

“A blindfold? Really?”

“Yep. I don’t know how Halo and Omaha got in here, and I’m not stealing your fucking key or breaking in… so… blindfold.”

Bradley shrugs, because in terms of creativity it’s up there with Halo mailing hers in, and Omaha sneaking his pieces into Bradley’s clothing and gear.

“Yeah. Okay. Just let me sit down. Pretty sure I can enjoy this coffee and this,” he opens the paper bag, “this muffin, with my eyes closed just as well as I can open.”

“Thanks man, you’re a real bro.”

As Bradley sips his coffee, he’s impressed both Omaha and Fanboy know his coffee order, the nutty flavour of a pump of hazelnut taking the edge off the bitterness he’s never become accustomed to, but still black and the biggest one available. Fanboy has put on some music, is singing along and Bradley hums along, although he’s unfamiliar with the song. He hears the word payback in the lyrics though and wonders if Fanboy has a playlist for each of them.

“Right. Think I’m done. If you can wait five or ten minutes until you hear me go that would be great…”

“What happens if I see?”

“The rest of the Daggers get to decide. Currently it’s getting saran wrapped to the flagpole…”

“Ooohhh…”

“Yeah. Although I’m not sure how we’re going to divvy up the pot if we all manage to decorate our Hei Hei…”

“How about a pizza and beer night here. You guys will have earned it. But keep me in the loop if anyone ends up saran wrapped to anything…”

“Well. You’ll be the first to know, because we’re trusting you to tell us if you see anyone…”

“Ah… so I could ruin it by taking the blindfold off right now.”

“Why do you think I brought you coffee and a muffin?”

“Smart man… I’ll give you a ten-minute head start.”

Fanboy’s laugh is loud, but Bradley hears the door shut and he’s pretty sure he’s alone again. When he finally removes the blindfold and heads to the bookcase to inspect the newest accotrouments. The most recently bedecked Hei Hei is surrounded by piles of little plastic Lego money, green plastic pieces with 100 printed on them along with little gold bars. Then he spies the little daggers the Fanboy has… glued? to the beak and wings and he supposes that’s the other meaning of payback right there. He takes the standard photo and throws it into the group chat.

>>Coming in thick and fast this weekend apparently. Payback, pretty sure this is a sign you’re next up.

Payback>> What? I thought I’d have more time! Damn.

PART SIX

[demonologue]

More Thunderbolts Musings...

I see new things and get new ideas every time I watch Thunderbolts. I’d honestly sit there and take notes the whole time, but I don’t want my phone screen to distract or piss off other people at the theatre. 

Here are some not-so-deep thoughts from this week:

First of all, this is so fucking obvious in hindsight, and I’m sure comic fans knew this from the start, and probably a lot of other people have thought of this, but. Sentry is supposed to have the power of a thousand exploding suns (I think in the comics it’s 10k, which is clearly overkill). Now I know from taking an astronomy class that there are a few things that can happen when a star goes supernova, but what’s the one thing everyone knows can happen?

A black hole. The Void is the other side of Sentry because of his exploding sun powers. Duh. I feel so dumb. And black holes don’t just hang out and be dark, they pull everything toward them. 

2) Amongst all the Soviet memorabilia in Alexei’s shitty apartment, there is a poster of a classic Harley on his wall (right behind his couch, in fact). Is it possible he was a Winter Soldier fanboy back in the day? As a child? He’s certainly Bucky’s biggest fan among the group; how far back does it go? In their What If… episode (What if Red Guardian Stopped the Winter Soldier - watch it right now, you will not regret it), Red Guardian knows a lot about Winter Soldier for someone who’s just another Soviet!Hydra agent. I…feel like I could really sell this in fanfic. And I probably will. Like, when the Soviets got hold of Winter Soldier, did they ever try to parade him out as a state-sponsored superhero? Are there Winter Soldier toys for kids somewhere? I have so many questions. If they did try, clearly it backfired horribly. That could have been why they tried again with Red Guardian. 

3) On a related note, we know there is cut footage of Bucky and Alexei talking in the van (I’m still mad they cut out the part where Bucky’s screaming as they crash into the building -  that’s funny as hell), and I feel like they did a lot more/spent a lot more time bonding than we are shown in the film. We know Alexei is eager to be friends with Bucky and have Bucky recognize him as a hero and a valuable asset (fanboy), but something changes between them (or maybe re-emerges from the “good old days”?) because Bucky is protective of Alexei after that, where he was pretty much ignoring him up to that point (more protective than he is of anyone but Bob). When Alexei breaks down and tries to chase Yelena into the Void, it’s Bucky who grabs him and physically pulls him back to safety. John could just as easily have done it, but he doesn’t. We see someone else grab for Alexei’s arm in that scene–I think it’s probably Ava–but not enough to be of help. I want to think about that more. It’s giving me ideas. 

4) Speaking of Ava, she does seem to be sort of the Velma of the group. She’s the one who insists on trying, that Yelena could be rescued from the Void. And she plays grown-up brain for the team more than once in the film.

5) This watch-through I realized what Bucky’s emotional connection to Bob is. I should have figured it out sooner, but I do plan to explore and exploit that in more fanfiction. 

6) And speaking of connections, I’m sure I don’t have to tell any VoidWalker fans out there, but it is John who gets into the hug second after Yelena. More significantly, he is the one who grabs Bob’s arm and pins it so that he can’t punch himself anymore. Yelena is just hugging him for support, letting him know he’s not alone, but John is the first one who’s like, "we need to pull these two guys apart or else." (Though Bucky is the first one to realize and say "this isn't right" about the way Bob has chosen to deal with the Void.) Additionally, John's grabbing Bob's arm is a physical expression of "please stop hurting yourself," which is an equally important mental health lesson to the film's message. I noticed that several viewings ago, but what I noticed this time was that, in addition to grabbing his arm, John is calling out to Bob repeatedly. You can’t hear it, but you can see his lips moving, yelling, “Bobby!” to try to get him to stop. It’s pretty awesome.

7) Yelena fully surrenders four times in the film. At first, I thought it was a self-harm instinct, as we initially see her do it when she steps off the Merdeka 118. She does it again in the vault, when there are less than five seconds before the incinerator blast happens, just before Ava opens the door. And she does it for the third time right before she steps into the Void. But I would argue that, though some of these things seem pretty end of life-ing, it may be more meditative. More of a self-reliance in the face of awful shit-type thing. Because she does it for the last time at the press conference, after she tells Val that they own her. Like she knows this is going to be fucking hard and full of bullshit, but here she is. She can deal with it.  

Bonus Rant: Also? Just a brief response to a couple of nerd article writers who I read early after the Thunderbolts release. They were going off about how Bucky would never agree to work for Val, she’s evil, she experimented on people, this is not believable because he knows how bad she is and Yelena knows how bad she is, and he has a respectable political career to uphold. 

Dude. Read the fucking comics. Bucky is The Revolution now. Bucky has always had a higher purpose of his own, and since he got free of his programming, he has always upheld it no matter who he was working for. Are you trying to say that SHIELD and Nick Fury are less evil people to be working for than Val? Or the corrupt U.S. government that used to send teenage Bucky on shadow-ops to do the dirty work Steve couldn’t be seen doing? The same government that was trying to keep Sam on a leash in Cap 4? Give me a break. Bucky is a realist, he knows terrible people pull the strings no matter where you go, but it’s what you do and how you do it that matters, not who bankrolls you. If Val tries to give them an order he doesn’t like, I promise you Bucky will have no problem telling her to go fuck herself. And neither will ANY of the New Avengers…except maybe Bob. But he’ll ultimately do what the others do.

That’s it for this week! See you next time…

[iguessitsjustme]

Pit Babe 2 Ep 6 Thoughts

Another week. Another Pit Babe 2 liveblog. I have had one glass of wine already. Under the cut:

Every week I say it and every week I mean it. This theme song slaps.

This episode better give me more KentaKim and NorthSonic. And less Pete. Please less Pete. No hate if you love him but I find him sooooo boring.

Ah right. This is where he left off. Send Willy to the cliff. It's time to push (I still kind of love him though in a he needs to die kind of way)

Charlie is correct to walk away.

Oof that's rough. Giving the ring back.

I mean you look like Way. So. No.

He's asking the right question. And I'm not saying this because Willy assaulted Babe. Which is not Babe's fault. I am saying that Babe should have TALKED TO HIS BOYFRIEND. But then again he is traumatized. Tony really did a number on these boys. I love them all.

HEH

Sidewalk children go AWAY…they are SCREAMING. WHERE are their parents.

Jeff so smart

What I wanted was Sorn pain not Babe pain. 

Lol Charlie watching drunk Babe struggle shouldn't be funny to me but it is. Am I a bad person?

This fight is a doozy wow.

I love them both but they're both being stupid. And also they both need to give each other some time to process.

Eh PeteChris. Not my cup of tea but it is what it is.

Nooo Charlie don't risk your health baby boy

KENTAKIM MY BOYSSSSSSSSSS

I'm normal about this

Oh the wine's wearing off. I need. Moar.

Chris is too smart for this show. Is he sketchy and suspicious? Yes. But also. He has. Un brain.

How artistic of you

Noooo Charlie don't let Willy goad you into racing. You're better than this

Is Charlie just doing this to figure out his sense so Babe can stay away from him?

Ohhh I'm shocked I tell ya SHOCKED that Willy is Tony's man. Oh who could have EVER seen this coming!

NorthSonic breaking my damn heart.

Especially North. Look at his faaaaaaaaaaace.

BABE PUT HIS GLASSES. BACK. ON.

Charlie and Babe back to their usual ways of resolving conflict I see.

Charlie gonna leave him though.

What an episode. I will retain maybe 50% of it. I need. Less couples I think. There's simultaneously too much going on and also not enough.

I'm gonna go drink more wine now.

[morninkim]

As a show of good faith toward the remaining Decepticons at the beginning of a new, united Cybertron, newly appointed Senators Bumblebee and Soundwave allowed Shatter and Dropkick to enlist into Autobot City's Defense Team.

These two turned out to be... not the best choices.

The city may have fallen to Insurgent Decepticon occupation had it not been for young recruits Hot Rod and Arcee's accidental interception of Shatter's communication with the fugitive Starscream.

To replace the errant Defense Team members, Springer and Blurr were reassigned from Iacon to Autobot City in their stead.

[butchlifeguard]

something i was thinking about on stand yesterday.. danganronpa shsl lifeguard who tries to save a dying person they find, bonus points if they dont come clean about it at first because they think they actually killed that person with their efforts

[shouyuus]

─── Ⅵ CHAPTER ONE: SHUT UP AND KISS ME

violet; 4,711 words; fluff, enemies to lovers, fake dating, hockey!vi, figure skater!reader, wlw, the gays can't communicate, college parties, toxic ex!cait, impulsive!reader, drama as all living fuck, no "y/n"

summary: in which you decide to go to yet another party vi's going to be at. consequences ensue.

a/n: i know its late but its still the 30th in cali!!! enjoy the ENEMIES part of enemies to lovers!!!! <3

< table of contents

─── Ⅵ IT TURNS OUT THAT Vi does, in fact, remember you. And, it also seems like she’s the type to hold a grudge.

Because three days later, when you’re running through a few off-ice warmups while the hockey team finishes up their morning practice, you distinctly hear her challenging one of her teammates to a race even as everyone else is clearing off the ice.

You groan, dropping back onto the bench and frowning as you start to lace up your skates.

“Great, now I’ve gotta skate on fucked up ice before the mid-day zamboni — really fucking great —”

“Got something you wanna say to my face, princess?”

Your eyes jerk up, and there’s Vi, standing not even a foot from you, her helmet tucked under one arm, her stick in the other, her hair a sweat-slicked mess that somehow still looks infuriatingly attractive. You narrow your eyes.

“Nope. Just… talking to myself.”

“I… don’t think so, sweetcheeks,” she says, taking a few steps forward even as you stand up. Like this, your eyes are barely level, your own skates giving you a solid few inches, but she still manages to look down at you as a smirk twists her lips.

You puff out a breath, feeling a wild thumping curling up your throat as you stare up at her, your fingertips going cold even as heat rushes into your cheeks.

“Fine,” you say, “you’re really that curious?”

Vi shrugs, “I mean, you seem to like dolling out unsolicited opinions so,” she pins you with a harsh look, “What’s another one to add to the collection, huh?”

You stiffen, and for a second, something breaks in Vi’s expression before it melds back into one of caustic curiosity. She looks like a beartrap sprung on a hair-pin trigger, her jaw clenched, her eyes hard.

“Huh, never thought you’d be such a glutton for punishment,” you say, the words dripping from you, slow as poison, and somewhere in the back of your mind, your fight or flight response is telling you that this is a bad, bad idea, but you can’t seem to stop yourself from taking half a step closer, even though Vi’s probably twice your size and can bench three times your body weight — “But then again, you did stay in a relationship with an emotionally manipulative bitch who swapped you out the second she could get her hands on someone better —”

“Shut the fuck up, you don’t know anything —!”

“Hey, hey!” A pair of large hands yanks Vi back just as she’s about to lunge towards you; another thinner pair of arms loops through yours, tugging you back a few steps.

“You stay the fuck out of this, Jayce!”

“Darling, what on earth is going on?” you turn to find Mel, her cheeks dusted in gold, her hands firm on your arms, as Jayce forcibly wrangles Vi back.

You swallow around the vitriol threatening your lips and shake your head, turning away from Vi.

“Nothing, just… I was annoyed that the hockey team always fucks up the ice after their practices —”

“Oh, you think we fuck up the ice?” Vi’s voice cracks like a gunshot in the vast rink, and several of the other girls from the hockey team have come jogging back, placing their hands on Vi’s shoulders to keep her from steamrollering into you. “You know how much precious practice time we’ve wasted filling up those massive holes you guys leave with your stupid little toe-pick jumps?”

You roll your eyes, anger flaring hot and high in the pit of your stomach.

“Oh, so sorry, didn’t know you guys could still see with the sustained brain damage you all must have from slamming into each other all the time.”

“Fuck you.”

You scoff, twisting back with a viperous smirk.

“In your wildest dreams, six.”

Vi’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh… didn’t know you knew my number, princess.”

“It’s written on your face — or have all your previous hookups been so stupid they can’t even read —”

“And what kind of tomfoolery is this?”

Everyone freezes at the sound of Amara’s voice. You bite down on your lips and take a step back as the small, gray-haired woman strides through, her hands behind her back, her chin held high.

“Sorry, Amara — it’s nothing,” Jayce says, jerking Vi behind him as she tries to open her mouth to speak.

“It doesn’t sound like nothing to me,” Amara says, her words smooth as a river in spring thaw, and nearly just as frigid.

Guilt creeps up your spine as she scans over the hockey team with marked distaste.

“Perhaps I ought to let Vander know that his girls are once again causing a —”

“Don’t, Amara. It was — it was my fault.” You shake off Mel’s hands and slot yourself between Jayce and Amara, ignoring the the disbelieving snort from Vi.

Amara’s eyes land on you, and for a second, they soften. Still, she tilts her head, eyes sharp as a hawks as you twist your fingers behind your back.

“Your fault, darling?”

You nod, “Yeah, I — I was annoyed that they were carving up the ice, so I — I picked a fight —”

Amara sighs, “Yes… well, I can’t blame you, but you know it’s not good rink etiquette.”

“I know,” you say, hanging your head.

Amara tuts, “As long as you know,” she reaches up to pat your cheek before marching off towards the rink-side boxes to set up the music. Behind you, Jayce releases Vi’s arms with a sigh.

“Martyr,” Vi coughs as she shoulders passed you, flanked by a few of the hockey girls, casting dirty looks over their shoulders before disappearing into the locker rooms.

You close your eyes, take three deep breaths, and then step onto the ice.

“It was an ass thing to say.”

“As long as you know —”

“But I feel like she took it way too seriously, y’know?”

Jayce sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he slumps down into the booth in the dining commons, shoving half an entire banana into his mouth as he pins you with a look.

“Or maybe, you can just apologize —”

You crinkle your nose, prodding at your yogurt bowl, toying with a spoonful of blueberry flavored granola.

“Can’t you just… like tell her I’m sorry or something?” you ask, pushing out your bottom lip in a signature pout. Jayce only swallows the rest of the banana before digging into a truly dauntingly sized ham and cheese sandwich.

“’m not doing your dirty work for you,” he says, his expression lighting up as Mel slides gracefully into the booth next to you, pressing a napkin into her lap.

“And what’s this about dirty work?” she asks, a teasing grin on her lips.

You sigh, “I’m asking very nicely —”

Jayce holds up a hand, “No, you’re trying to get me to apologize to Vi for you — which basically defeats the whole point of an apology.”

“No! It’s because I know you guys are like… platonic gym soulmates or — whatever —” you wave your hands through the air even as Mel laughs into her salad.

Jayce huffs, “Or,” he catches Mel’s eye, and you feel a distinct spate of unease work it’s way down your spine at the way Mel’s lips split into a devious grin.

“Or?” you prompt, setting down your spoon and sitting back, looking between the pair of them with mounting apprehension.

Mel gently places a hand on your arm, “You could just apologize to her yourself —”

“At the party this Saturday —”

“No — no way —” you put up both hands, “the last time I went to a party with you guys —”

“You got to make out with the hottest girl on the entire hockey team,” Mel soothes.

You bite your lips, eyes cutting down to your lap. You hadn’t told her. You hadn’t told anyone. So far as she and Jayce knew, the only slight against Vi you’d made is calling her ex a ‘manipulative bitch’, which — well.

“Right, and now she hates me.”

Mel sniffs, “You can’t be that bad at kissing. I refuse to believe it.”

Jayce snickers; Mel shoots him a glare. He reaches for the bag of free chips and pops it open with one hand.

“C’mon, what’s the worst that could happen? You offer her another kiss to make up for your little tantrum the other day?” Mel asks, flicking a thin, gold-laced braid over her shoulder.

You groan, sinking into your seat as you fold your arms over your chest, weighing the options.

You did feel bad for what you’d said. But you also tried to shield her from what you’re sure would’ve been much worse than what she’d gotten given Amara’s track record of tattling to Vander.

And then, unbidden, comes the memory of Vi’s sultry grin as she’d pinned you against the frat house door, her mouth inches from yours, the solid muscles of her torso pushing against yours as she’d leaned in and —

“— at a sorority house, so the space’ll be much nicer,” Mel promises, turning towards you again, her eyes expectant.

You blink, your mind catching up to her words a second later as you sigh.

“I — sure, fine — but I can’t stay too long. I’ve got Skate America in two weeks —”

Jayce ruffles your hair, “Yeah, so do we.”

You shove his massive arm off you with a half-hearted glare, “Yeah, but I’m not made like you guys. I can’t just literally skate into a podium. I actually have to practice.”

“Oh don’t get all shy now, little miss triple axel.”

“I’ve only landed it twice in practice, and I’m pretty sure one of them was underrotated —”

Mel shakes her head, “And there she goes again —”

“Always so humble —” Jayce adds.

You groan and bury your face in your arms, “Will you leave me alone?”

Mel laughs, “We will if you come to the party on Saturday,” she sing-songs, nudging you with her elbow.

Jayce slings an arm around your shoulders, shaking you slightly.

“And Vi’s for sure going.”

You peak up at him, “How… do you know?”

Jayce smirks, “Cause. Her ex is gonna be there.

You blink.

“Oh.”

Mel pillows her cheek on her palm, tapping her perfectly manicured nails along the table, a Cheshire-grin spread across her lips like warm butter.

“With her new girlfriend.”

You whip around towards her.

“Oh.”

This was a terrible idea, you think, as you step into the sorority house, tugging on the edge of your dress, the hem of which barely skims your mid-thigh, the modest, high-necked front contrasted with the plunging back line that settles in a graceful slope of material just above the curve of your ass.

“Quit fidgeting,” Mel says, slapping at your hand as you try once again to readjust the bottom of the dress.

“I can’t — I feel like I’m gonna flash the world — and it’s a tossup if it’s the front of the back!” you hiss, jerking the hemline of the dress down as it slowly starts to ride up your thigh again.

Mel tuts, “Please, as if this is anywhere near as short as the performance outfits that we have to wear —”

“That’s different!” you insist, reaching out to grab two cups of something and shoving one at Mel, “We’ve got tights on under those!”

Mel rolls her eyes, sniffing at the drink before making a face and dropping it off on a random surface. You take an absent sip of your own drink, gagging immediately at the taste.

“Eugh, oh god what do they put in those?” you ask, dropping your own solo cup on a table as Mel drags you through the shifting crowd.

The party’s already going in full swing, but she’d been right, the space is nicer — wider and less cramped, the ceilings high and the music less abrasive.

“Where’re we going?” you ask, even as Mel guides you towards the heart of the party and somehow manages to conjure up two glasses of what looks like champagne, handing one to you, and taking a sip of the other one herself.

“Finding Vi,” she says, to which you balk, shaking your head.

“Mel!”

She turns with an exasperated sigh, “What?”

“C-can’t we just —” you motion towards the party, “try to have a good time? I mean — maybe she’s not here — maybe she wanted to have a quiet night in —”

“Speak of the devil —” Mel’s face breaks into a grin as she spots someone over your shoulder and you whip around to see —

Caitlyn Kiramman, the veritable goddess of track and field, all dark hair and endless long legs, standing there with her new girlfriend Maddie Nolen, a cute, if slightly awkward girl, with strawberry blond hair cropped in a truly abominable bob-cut.

The room seems to part for them, Caitlyn tugging Maddie forward with their fingers laced, looking not so unlike the Queen of England, followed by her loyal procession of ginger-backed corgis.

You take a few steps back, watching them with raised brows, wondering what on earth Caitlyn might’ve seen in Maddie, given that she’d had Vi seemingly wrapped around her pinky finger just months before.

But then, you see Vi — her expression caught somewhere between hurt and barely scraped together bravado, her fists at her sides as Caitlyn also spots her, approaching with Maddie half a step behind.

“Fancy seeing you here, Violet,” Caitlyn says, her voice carrying over the crowd even as everyone tries to avert their gaze or pretend like they aren’t listening in.

Vi puffs out her chest, “Sure, yeah. Super fancy. What, d’you think I’d be banned from the sorority house or something?”

Caitlyn shrugs, “Something like that.”

Vi narrows her eyes, her knuckles going white, “Sorry cupcake, ‘fraid not even you can keep me from havin’ a good time.”

“So I see,” Caitlyn says. Maddie peers around her shoulder with wide eyes and a shy smile.

“Name’s Maddie, it’s nice to meet —”

“See you’ve already replaced me,” Vi says, folding her arms over her chest, her biceps bulging, the vein in her jaw ticking dangerously as she looks Maddie over.

Caitlyn smirks, “See you haven’t.”

Vi seems to deflate slightly at that, her arms coming loose, “Actually I —”

You find yourself moving before you can stop yourself, pushing through the gathering crowd till you can throw your arms around Vi’s neck, bowling into her with a simpering squeal of —

“Vi! There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!”

Vi’s expression morphs from one of shock to a momentary flash of suspicion as you meet her eyes and bat your lashes in what you hope is an inconspicuous way before turning towards Caitlyn and Maddie, a 100-watt smile hitched over your lips.

“Oh! And who’s this?”

Caitlyn narrows her eyes, looking you over with an imperialistic eye.

“Caitlyn — Kiramman… pleasure.”

“Oh wow! You’re the — the girl who’s really good at hurdles, right?” you say, even as Vi stifles a laugh at your side, her hand settling around your waist.

Caitlyn’s eyes harden as her lips thin into a pale line. Anyone who knows her would know that hurdles are her worst discipline, and that she’d dropped nearly every single one on her last major competition.

“And I’m Maddie… Nolen. So you must be —” Maddie reaches out, but not before Caitlyn takes your hand instead.

“The Ice Princess — our very own Olympic hopeful. Best of luck to you in the Grand Prix series this year. I heard you had something of a nasty fall early in your season last time… you oughtta be more careful this time around,” Caitlyn says, looking you up and down, even as you smile up at her, blissfully sweet and unbothered. Your cheeks are starting to hurt.

“Oh, don’t worry,” you flap your hand, crinkling your nose as you lean forward, using the motion to reach down and give Vi’s hand a soft squeeze, your eyes pinned on Caitlyn’s as you say —

“I never make the same mistake twice.”

And before she has the chance to respond, her jaw dropping open, you turn towards Vi with a bright grin, placing a palm against her chest, leaning right into her space.

“C’mon, let’s go get a drink, hm?”

“Y-yeah, princess — sure —”

You tug her away before the facade crumbles entirely, the pair of you dodging around curious eyes till you end up in the thankfully empty kitchen. Her hand pulls from yours the second you close the door behind you.

“What the hell —”

You hold up both your hands, falling back three steps to put some distance between you and her.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? It — it just looked like…” you shrug, casting your eyes around the kitchen even as Vi huffs, folding her arms across her chest to lean back against the door, “It looked like you could use a hand, that’s all.”

“I didn’t need anyone to rescue me,” she snipes, her voice hardening around the edges.

You nod, “Yeah, I know. But…”

“But what?”

You swallow, turning your back to Vi as you pace around the large, marble-tiled kitchen, “I — I felt bad for — for what I said last time… so…”

You turn around just in time to catch Vi’s incredulous expression, seconds before she breaks into a sharp bark of laughter.

“Wow, my hero — my very own white-knight. Really, who needs Prince Charming when you’ve got —”

“Okay! I get it — you didn’t need saving — holy shit you don’t have to rub it in.”

You sigh, leaning up against the kitchen island, glaring down at a half-empty bottle of vodka sitting in the sink before reaching out to grab it and rummaging around for two empty shot glasses.

Vi watches you with an amused grin twitching at her lips.

Finally, you manage to find a few shot glasses tucked into the far corner of a cupboard. You stand on your tiptoes, but your fingers don’t quite reach. And a second later, a body presses solid and warm to your back as Vi’s hand reaches in to pull two of the glasses out, placing them squarely on the counter.

She shoots you a lopsided grin as you watch her expertly pull two shots from the vodka bottle and slide one towards you.

“Mazel,” she smirks, tossing it back and smacking her lips.

You eye your own shot for a second longer before squeezing your eyes shut and tossing it back as well, immediately coughing, fighting to keep your gag reflex from taking over, pressing the back of your hand to your lips.

Vi’s laughter is loud, but not unkind as she reaches out to tug the shot glass from you, setting everything back into the sink.

“So. You’re felt bad, did you?”

You groan, dropping your head into your arms.

“I mean — yeah — it was —” you take a deep breath, bracing your palms against the kitchen island, eyes fixed on where your fingertips are slowly going white, “It was a shitty thing to say.”

“Mm. Which one? Mentioning my breakup right before I was about to kiss you? Or calling my ex a manipulative bitch?”

You wince, chewing on the inside of your cheek, though when you look up, it’s to find Vi smiling.

“Either? Both? Ugh… alcohol makes me —” you gesture at your head, wiggling your fingers as Vi watches, her smile sliding from amused into indulgent, “misplace the brain-mouth barrier a bit.”

“Yeah? And uh… do you skate drunk a lot? Or was that little exposition special just for me?”

You swallow, feeling the heat of the vodka creeping back up your throat as your cheeks prickle.

“That was…” you trail off, crinkling your nose as you cast about for a plausible response, but coming up empty, you sag against the kitchen counter, throwing up your hands, “I just — I’m not the best with impulsivity, okay?”

Vi chuckles, nodding, “So… I can see — I mean, even without the shouting match at the rink, that stunt you pulled back there with Cait —” she lets out a low whistle, shaking her head, “Gotta say, princess, I’m impressed. Pretending to be my new girlfriend in front of her new girlfriend? That’s… that’s ballsy.”

You let out another groan, sliding down the side of the kitchen island to sit on the floor, pulling your knees into your chest and glaring half-heartedly at the bottom of the fridge. A second later, Vi flops down to join you, an arm propped on her knee, her eyes caught on the shape of you, your pouty lips and the slope of your nose.

“Seriously though, when you made that hurdles comment — I almost lost it —”

You break into a bright peal of laughter, head thumping back against the cupboards as Vi allows herself a chuckle.

“Yes, yes — I’m kind of bitch. Point made,” you say, casting her a sidelong glance.

She shrugs, “Then I guess I’ve got a type, so…”

You bite down on your bottom lip, mulling over her words.

“So?” you ask.

She sighs, “So. What’s next?”

You frown, “Next?”

She fixes you with an incredulous look, “Yeah. Like — what comes after you so gallantly rescuing me from my oh-so-wicked ex by announcing that we’re dating in front of half our graduating class?”

You open your mouth, gaping at her.

A second passes. Then another.

Vi stares. Then, she bangs her head so loudly against the cupboards behind you you almost jump out of your skin.

“Come on! Are you kidding?! You’re telling me you did all this without any kind of plan?” She pushes to her feet seconds before you scramble up onto yours, frowning defensively in her direction.

“I told you! I’m — I’ve got an impulse problem and impulsivity doesn’t exactly lend itself to perfect foreplaning —”

But the pair of you break off as the unmistakable sounds of voices echoes down the hallway leading towards the kitchen. And in particular one voice — low and pitched and accented.

“Fuck —” Vi swears, looking suddenly stunned, her eyes wide, her whole body going rigid, “We’ve — we’ve gotta hide or something —”

You blink at her for a brief second before huffing out a breath and reaching up to jerk her down towards you. She barely catches herself against the counter, her hands braced on either side of your hips as you hiss against her lips —

“Oh c’mon — don’t be stupid —”

“What the hell are you —”

“Just shut up and kiss me —”

The door swings open behind you and laughter pours in, though it abruptly cuts off as Caitlyn freezes in the doorway, Maddie nearly smashing into her, and Mel behind her as everyone else jostles to try and see what the hold up is.

“Oh… whoops,” Maddie says, letting out an embarrassed chuckle as she tries to turn away from the sight of Vi and you caught in the throes of what looks like an intense make out session, Vi’s fingers digging divots into the skin of your hips, your fingers curling in her hair.

You let out a tiny whimper as Vi hoists you up onto the kitchen island, slotting herself between your legs, even as Caitlyn makes an affronted noise behind you, folding her arms.

“I see this room’s taken,” she says, voice flat and dangerous.

But Vi’s only response is to trail a hand up to your jaw, cupping it in her palm so she can slot her lips more comfortably against yours, letting out a satisfied hum at the way you soften into her as she sinks her teeth into you bottom lip.

Caitlyn scoffs, rolling her eyes even as Maddie tugs her back down the hallway. Everyone else jostles back into the main room as well, giggling and gossiping about this exciting new development.

Mel, though, clears her throat as she and Jayce share a look before closing the kitchen door behind them.

“Right, that’s enough you two —” she says, to very little avail.

Because somewhere between one breath and the next, you’d lost yourself to the feeling of Vi’s lips on yours, the heady, pulsing friction of her body as she cradles you against her, the way you can still taste the remnants of that vodka shot on her tongue as she licks into your mouth.

Faintly, you wonder if this might’ve turned out differently if you’d just kept quiet on that first night and let her kiss you in that dirty frat room.

But the thought is quickly dashed by a deep groan thrumming from Vi’s chest to yours as you lean back into the kiss, running your thumb down along her neck, pressing into the fluttering pulse point just below her jaw.

A whine curls up your throat as Vi’s fingers work beneath the hem of your little black dress, teasing at the skin of your thigh.

“Hey! Earth to horny lesbians!”

You pull back with a gasp, and Vi resurfaces as well, the both of you panting, your lips separating with a sound not unlike a plunger being released from a recently blocked sink. You feel your head spin, the room pressing in around you before expanding back out, even as Vi drags the back of her hand across her mouth, stumbling back a few steps.

“W-what?”

Jayce lets out a disbelieving laugh.

“Really? That’s what got you?”

Mel sighs, rolling her eyes, “I think it’s time you explain yourselves.”

You lick your lips, hopping off the kitchen island even as Vi runs a hand over her face, her eyes strangely fractured, her cheeks dusted high with color.

“Well you were the one that said I should offer her another kiss to make up for — Vi? Where are you going?”

But Vi’s already making for the door, her shoulders hunched, her fists clenched at her sides. You take a few steps towards her but stop dead as she runs a hand through her hair.

“Sorry — I — I gotta go —” her voice is hoarse, and the look on her face when she glances over her shoulders at you — that more than anything convinces you to let her go.

You like to think that you’d seen experienced a good number of human emotions on the broad spectrum. Skating forces you to tap into a lot of them — anger, excitement, joy, sorrow, jealousy, vindication, passion.

But you’d never seen someone look so utterly broken.

“Wait, Vi —” Jayce tries to stop her but Mel places a hand on his arm, and Vi brushes passed them both, disappearing into the darkness of the hallway beyond without another word.

You sag against the kitchen island as both Mel and Jayce turn their eyes back onto you.

“Right.” Mel rounds on you even as you shrink back against the fridge, chewing on your lips.

Jayce groans, looking between you and Mel before marching over to the table and pulling up a few chairs.

“Everyone sit. If we’re gonna talk about this, we might as well be comfortable.”

You eye the chairs for a few seconds before sliding over and dropping into one of them.

Mel perches on the edge of another as Jayce leans himself against the dining table, arms folded loosely across his chest.

“So?” Mel prods.

You take a deep breath.

“So… at that frat party… when me and Vi were… supposed to kiss? Yeah, well… we… kinda, sorta… didn’t.”

taglist: @traiitorjoe @rizzscary @wetcat020 @alex-thegiraffeboyy @nanasemo @saturnhas82moons @unear7hly @drsnowrose @grantaires-waistcoat @isab3lita @ally-all-around @starrysetup22 @lipsent @lewd_alien @jack-frost-2010 @starsfortaylor @onesockcat @lesbian-useless @armins-slvt @jbejbeubdh @ryescapades @kingkamk @princesssmars @chobssss @mybelovedvi @bouqette @noietta @brooks-lin @ally-all-around @bunnyrose01 @stumpystump @lia-winther @folklore13lover @sawaagyapong @sevikas-whore @sunflowerwinds @taurtel @tourmalinetyrone @oidloid @marcylated @krisziepowlet @vikaswife @pa-co @devotedlyelectronicartisan @aliluvszs @elliecoochieeater

[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

[misserabella]

s.r and a.h p links!

pxrn links for these two! (+ mental scenarios that came to my mind with them) minors dni!!

aaron hotchner:

it doesn’t stop dripping! ; aaron’s been pulled away from you from weeks on end due to back to back cases. when he comes home, the first thing he does (can do, cause it’s all he’s been thinking about while being gone) is bury his thick veiny cock into your snug soppy cunt, and when he cums, filling you up with his heavy load, it’s soooo much it doesn’t stop flowing down your ass onto the sheets.

do you deserve it? ; after your silly plan of making aaron jealous by flirting with another agent, he makes sure to remind you just who you belong to. he fucks your cunt open without any prep, letting you feel the sting, your walls taking on his shape as he harshly fucks into you for what seems hours on end, making sure to slow down his pace every time you’re gonna cum and stopping just before you reach your peak as a punishment. you can’t take it anymore, crying and moaning for him to let you cum, and when he does? is heavenly. you’re brain dead on his cock. but he does not give you what you want most: his cum filling your womb. he fucks your mouth and makes you swallow. ‘cause you don’t deserve to be bred after being such a fucking brat. and then, he’s fucking right back into you to start all over again. looooong night.

harder!! ; in which you break aaron’s rules and get yourself punished. sleeves rolled up. ass in the air. drenched panties and cheeks so red you won’t be able to sit tomorrow. and he’s relentless, hitting harder, making you whimper and jerk in pain until tears are springing your eyes. “want me to stop?” you shake your head and bite your lip, your ass pushing back against his warm stinging palm. “harder please. and he smirks. “good girl.” and later on, he fucks you with a dildo, ‘cause he denies you his cock. “this will make you think twice before disobeying next time. you don’t deserve my cock.”

tummy bulge ; just that. aaron being so fucking big stretching your pussy open that you two can see the imprint of his cock fucking in and out of your cunt.

spencer reid:

slurp it up! ; spencer is begging, puppy eyes looking up at you. you’ve got to get to uni. he knows. you have an important test today. he knows. but you’ve been studying so hard this couple of weeks for your finals… completely leaving him hanging and alone, making him stroke his cock every night just to get the relief he needs you to give him (you’re the only one who can make him cum so hard his eyes are rolling back), so he begs and begs and begs. “just one taste. i’ll be quick. i promise!!! please i just can’t cum without you.” and how can you say no? so there you are, leaning on the wall as spencer croons his neck up, tongue hungrily lavishing your pussy as groans and moans of pleasure, pure ecstasy and relief leave his lips as he slurps and drinks up every single drop you give him while he fucks his hand. god. he’s gonna cum so hard…!

shooting blanks! ; poor little thing. you’ve fucked him up for good this time. his glasses are fogged up. his pretty hair a mess. puppy eyes glassy and cheeks so red they resemble cherries. you’ve fucked him so much you’ve completely drained his balls empty, and rubbed his tip raw with your cunt. his hips shake prettily and pathetically as you stroke his long gorgeous cock, sucking at his nipple in hopes to get just one more rope of his creamy yummy cum. his eyes are rolling back, he has lost his voice due to all the moaning and whimpering, and when he comes, just a single drop leaves his tip. you pout. fuck, you’re still hungry.

paint me. ; after realizing just how much your pretty virgin nerdy boyfriend loved your boobs you decided that, to ease him into fucking your pussy (knowing that if he did right now he’d probably blow his load as the tip barely slips inside), you let him use your tits instead. and you’re right. spencer is moaning, whining at the sight, strong hands pushing your pillowy perfect tits together to create the perfect pocket for his cock, and after barely three thrusts he’s painting your neck and chest with ropes of his cum. “so pretty…” he mutters as his tip smooches your perky nipple. of course he cleans you up with his tongue later!!

show me how you move ; your first time riding spencer. you’re chest to chest, mouth to mouth, tongues hungrily pushing into each others mouths as you bounce gently on his cock, he’s not all the way in. you’re still trying to get used to his size, cause spencer was big. halfway in and he’s already kissing your cervix. you can’t stop moaning, cause he’s reaching sooo deep, and his happy trail is scratching your clit just the right way. but spencer can’t take it anymore. he needs more. so his hands cup your ass, he plants the sole of his feet on the bed, and pounds into you in deep hard strokes up your pussy. you scream. and before you know it you’re cumming. he doesn’t stop. not until you’re squirting and begging him to stop, leaving your pussy lips swollen and you, sensitive and sore the day after.

good morning ; it’s still early when you feel it, your boyfriend grunting against your ear, his hard cock thrusting against your ass. you’d probably slept 3 hours, at most, since you two had gone to sleep after fucking for hours on end. but it doesn’t seem like enough for him. it will never be enough. “i’m sorry. fuck. i’m so sorry.” he moans, thrusting harder as he sucks at your neck when you moan, fully awake now. “i need you.” and just like that, that easily, you’re pulling a leg over his and slightly shifting to give him a better access to your dripping pussy. the two of you moan when the tip parts your sticky folds, and when he pushes in, he’s groaning. “fuck. so fucking tight… why are you still so fucking tight? i fucked you open a couple of hours ago…”

you can take it ; spencer with his beautiful virgin girlfriend, who he was to prep with three of his expert long fingers before fucking you cause he’s that fucking big. once inside, having to go slow, only fucking you with half of his cock ‘cause he knows that’s all you can take for now. but don’t worry. he’ll make sure to shape your pussy to his cock. you will take it.

extras (threesome!):

you can take them both ; pussy stretched so open, just having one rearranging your insides will never be the same.

rivals ; “she’ll get pregnant with my baby.” “not if i am the one who comes the most.”

one from the back, the other from the front! ; aaron is smirking as you gag around spencer’s cock, snapping pictures he’ll use to jerk off with his pretty boyfriend when they two of them are away from you on a case. “come on darling. you can take him deeper, can’t you? thaaat’s it. good girl.”

[chansdoll]

방찬 ─── 18+ headcanons

♡ a/n: theres more but my brain is fried and i cant think of any so keep an eye out for a possible part 2. also mdni. ♡ this is a work of fiction and in no way portrays bangchan irl. this is just for fun. ♡ masterlist ♡ border by @firefly-graphics

›››› bangchan is a switch. idc idc idc. he’s definitely more on the dominant side, wanting to take care of you and spoil you in every way, but there’s definitely times when he gets into subspace — whether it be triggered from how you’re talking to him or treating him to just feeling needy that particular day. sometimes channie comes out when he needs a slight break from being the leader/helper/listener for everyone else, and he just wants to be the one being taken care of for a little bit. 

›››› when he’s angry or needing stress relief, from work or schedules, he’s definitely the type of bf to fuck it out of you. (though later on he will feel a little guilty for it, apologizing profusely and trying his best to make it up to you.)

›››› chan is a pussy eater, no questions asked. if you’re needing it, he’d be happy to go down on you whenever, wherever, however. his favorite ways to eat you out? when you’re on your back spread for him, or sitting on his gorgeous face. he wants to see your reactions from his torturous but heavenly mouth.

›››› remember how i said chan’s a switch? yeah. let's talk about what triggers this man into subspace. 

›››› when you play with his hair. god, he fucking loves it. something about the sensation of your long nails grazing his scalp and lightly tugging on his strands drives him into subspace almost instantly.

›››› praise. this man loves being told he's doing a good job, even if it isn’t necessarily in the bedroom. he wants to be reassured he’s pleasing you, no.. he needs the reassurance. 

›››› which leads me to my next point. he loves pet names. being told he’s being a good boy almost makes him cum untouched. he’s also fond of baby. even he doesn’t know why it drives him wild; he just finds it endearing.

›››› in a twisted way, he loves when you’re dominant. the way you treat him.. it’s like you need him so desperately to get off. when you’re in control, he’ll encourage you by saying things like. “use me.. milk my cock for all it’s worth..” he wants to be your toy and be as useful to you as possible when he’s in subspace, just as much as he wants to be spoiled and taken care of.

›››› however, dominant chan is something else. since he’s more so on the dominant side, taking care of you is his priority. he absolutely teeters in between soft dom and hard dom, depending on his mood. 

›››› soft dom channie would be gentle, sensual, and tender. he’d take his time with your body, worshiping every inch of your skin and that luscious mound between your legs. he’d make you cum hundreds of times if you asked, he’s such a giver. he’d praise you the whole time, encouraging you to keep taking his cock or fingers. “you’re doing so good, baby. keep taking it, i know you can.”

›››› hard dom chan is still very giving, but in his own twisted way. he’d be rougher. even if it’s subtle gestures or mannerisms, you will be able to tell which bangchan you’re going to get. hard dom chan is almost impatient, and usually comes out to play when he’s needy and can’t wait another second without claiming you as his. his dirty talk during this varies, but it’s usually a mix of praise and slight degradation. “look at you, taking my cock like a dirty little whore.. you’re so desperate to cum.. fucking pathetic.”

›››› these subtle gestures would be something as simple as the difference in how he undresses you–going from slow, sensual movements to rushing and almost ripping the fabric of your clothing. 

›››› not only are his mannerisms different, the way he sounds is night and day. when he’s being sensual, or in subspace, his moans are breathy, whimpery, and whiny. he’s such a needy little thing. 

›››› when he’s more dominant, and especially when he’s in one of his harder moods, his moans are primal and animalistic. deep, guttural groans and growls are leaving his throat endlessly, especially as he cums, there’s nothing more satisfying than hearing his roars of pleasure vibrating against your ear as he pumps you full of cum. 

›››› he loves loves loves marking you, almost as much as he loves the thought of you claiming him with your fingernails or mouth. 

›››› he’s the biggest tease. he wants to hear you beg for it. it being his cock, his mouth, his fingers. he wants to listen to your sweet whimpers as you writhe, crying out for him to fill you, to taste you, something.

©chansdoll do not repost, translate, or copy my works in any way, shape, or form.

[gguk-n]

hey could you maybe write a lando x reader where when it was clear that lando lost the championship the reader just comforts him but he is distancing himself from her but she doesn’t give up on him so pls a happy end ❤️

established relationship, not very angsty, short

My World Champion

Things had been rough between the pair for a few months. With the mounting pressure on Lando to perform had left him pushing all those close to him away. He wasn't very happy with it but he felt like maybe he could focus better. The person who had to deal with the brunt of Lando's distance was his girlfriend, Y/N. They'd been together for a while and friends for longer. They just got each other like no other but lately Y/N felt like she didn't know Lando as well as she used to.

Y/N did try to bring up the distance. It was Azerbaijan, "Lan, don't you think we barely talk" Y/N spoke slowly, trying to start a conversation with her boyfriend who was sat across from her on the sofa. He didn't bother to even look up, "What's there to talk about when I'm busy trying to win a championship. Let me focus" he huffed. "I didn't mean it like that. I just thought we could spend some time together" Y/N trailed off. "We are sat together right now. How much more time do you want to spend with me?" Lando sighed and finally looked up from his laptop. "I just" she felt her voice die in her throat. 'I don't remember the last time we kissed Lan' her brain thought as she got up and left the room before another fight ensued.

It was during the winter break when things were starting to look up. Lando had just won the Singapore GP, he was more attentive and present; they even cuddled the whole day. Y/N thought that she had her boyfriend back. Oh how wrong she was because as soon as they were back on track; Lando was back to square one. The Austin loss hit deep, making Lando double down on strategising and spending every waking hour with the team or thinking about Formula One. It was like he forgot Y/N existed or for that matter himself. She would sit there and stare at her boyfriend who looked more and more like a stranger with each passing day.

Things had become rocky between them. She felt the divide growing with each passing weekend. Mexico wasn't any better. But Brazil landed a huge blow to Lando. He shut down, he stopped talking to anyone and spent all his time scrolling on his phone. There was nothing she could do without Lando walking out or shutting the door on her face. So, she sat and waited. She would cook his favourite food or leave out his favourite snacks to munch on. But she didn't make much break through on him; as he still chooses to stay reserved, opting to carry the burden alone.

It was after the Las Vegas quali, when Y/N noticed the light begin leave Lando's eyes. All she could offer were words and cuddles but Lando had put up a wall between them. The bed seemed too big for the two of them with either on each side. She stared at the space in between them wondering when it had gotten this big.

After the race, Y/N sighed a sigh of relief. The Championship battle was over and that meant she got her Lando back. She saw glimpses of him when he congratulated Max and couldn't wait to jump into his arms. But it was like Lando was back, just not for her.

That night, they spent it like any other, on either side of the bed. But as Y/N tried to fall asleep, she felt the bed shake. On further inspection, she saw Lando's frame quietly shaking from the sobs as he tried to not make any noise. Her heart hurt watching him, she slowly scooted over causing Lando to stop crying for a moment. She wrapped her arm around his torso and buried her head in his neck. "I love you, my world champion" she whispered causing Lando to turn around. His face was streaked with tears which she carefully wiped off. "I don't like it when you cry" she muttered and pecked his lips. "I thought you fell asleep" Lando mumbled. "Can't sleep without my cuddles" she quipped. "But, I'm not the world champion" was all he muttered, remembering her first comment. "For the world, no. For me, always" she smiled. Lando searched her eyes for anything, but all he found was undeterred love. "And you're not angry?" he asked. "No. I'm happy to watch you compete for the championship because I know, sooner or later you'll win it. Just waiting for that day" she reassured. "I'm sorry for being a dick. I was just" Lando spoke before she cut him off, "over whelmed. I know. But you didn't have to do it all alone. What am I here for?" she spoke tenderly. "I love you" he whispered kissing her for the first time in a long time. "I love you too, muppet" she whispered back. He looked at her for a long time as his hands pulled her closer, running along her frame; "What would I do without you?" he asked. "Crash and burn" she chided. "Agreed" he mumbled pulling her in for another kiss. "You alway know how to make me happy" he mumbled in between kisses. "Only when you listen to me. Otherwise you're Mr Grumpy" she chuckled. "I promise not to be Mr Grumpy anymore" he laughed kissing her again. "Next time I'm grumpy, kiss me. I think all my worries melt away with your kisses" he said pressing her against him. "So, the next time you start an argument, I'm gonna kiss you" she said cupping his cheeks. "Best way to end an argument" he smiled pressing their foreheads together. "I won't disagree" she kissed him again, making up for all the lost time.

[dwaekkicidal]

"Heats" with Bunny!Lee Know

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: Day 2 of my Bboki-Dwae collab with @bbokicidal <3

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: ~900

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: gn!reader but theres pregnancy mentions in the last two quotes at the very very end of this post, constant mentions of breeding, 1 mention of a spank, overstimulation, some cum talk, using another person's clothes+scent to get off, this last one is marked with "⚠" but 1 mention of being forced down with a foot on ur head lol

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

❥ Has no real heat cycle, at least not an obvious one, since male rabbits are always ready to breed year-round.

❥ That being said, he will be very obsessive about breeding you from the very beginning of the year, usually February or March, all the way to September. You both quickly come to learn that it is because of rabbit's mating season! Which explains why he's constantly insatiable during this time frame and will usually want to go multiple rounds a day, every single day if you'll allow it.

❥ He cums super fast sometimes, so oral is not an option in his mind. He will taste you at least 3 times a day and he'll dig his nails into your thighs if you start trying to squirm away from overstimulation.

❥ Once he's got his fill and he's sure you've enjoyed yourself, he’s wasting no time to flip you onto your hands and knees. It’s his favorite position!! something something "Best for me to breed you thoroughly"

❥ He’s gonna keep your hole nice and stuffed while he roughs you around for as many rounds as he deems sufficient enough for his seed to take. (Spoiler: it's NEVER enough for him)

❥ And if he’s that deep in, that he’s giving in to his more 'primal' side, then you will be at it for hours before his mushy little brain pushes past the chants of “breed. breed. breed.” and remembers that you’re, in fact, a human and need a second to breathe.

❥ He quite literally does not care if you physically can not get pregnant... You not having the means to get pregnant or simply being on birth control will never stop him from talking or thinking about breeding you. If anything, he finds it even hotter because his minds convinces him that "If we try hard enough.."

❥ You don’t need lube when he has almost disgusting amounts of precum/cum leaking from his tip <3 So much so that you now have a towel drawer in your nightstand

❥ Much to his human side’s dismay, and to his rabbit side’s joy, he will cum buckets every 2nd time. Meaning that once that second round of the day is hitting, prepare to literally overflow due to the sheer amount of cum his heavy balls will pump into you.

❥ Oh, and don’t even think about letting any of it go to waste. The second a singular drop of his cum falls past the midpoint of your thigh, he is racing to shove it back inside where it belongs.

❥ Depending on how deep into this “headspace” he is he might even growl, which always comes out as a huff, and land a warning slap to your ass cheek. Loves to combine it with some crude comment (like the very first quote at the end of this post)

❥ If he’s reaally really into it he will mount you as best as he physically can: If you’re in a position similar to missionary, you’re getting shoved into a mating press and held in place. Or if you’re in a position similar to doggy style, you’re getting shoved flat into the sheets so he can straddle the backs of your thighs and spread your cheeks while he watches himself fuck into your tight hole <3

⚠ You didn't hear this from me but if he's particularly insatiable & has lost himself to his instincts, he may or may not hold you down with his foot on the back of your head while you're in downward doggy. This is so he can force you to sit still and fuck your brains out so that you stay pliant for him until he's ready to take a break <3 In this position, he fucks you soo much more aggressively/rougher than ever before so prepare to not be able to walk for a bit hehe

Now, let’s say he goes through one of these “mating season” fits while you’re nowhere near. Maybe in another country or state for whatever reason and there’s no possibility that you and him can reunite anytime soon.

❥ He WILL try to breed hump everything that smells like you. From using your towel(s) to tug one out all the way to humping your favorite spot on the couch until his dick is raw.

❥ This also means he will throw one of your clothes (cough 90% of the time is your worn underwear cough) onto a pillow and will rub his cock against it until he dirties it even more.

❥ But, he is a good boy. So he won’t be gross and leave his cum to seep into your clothes until you come home. He’ll be good and thoroughly clean whatever he lost his mind on and definitely will get horny again in the process

❥ You let him think he’s gotten away with it, but in reality? He cums so much that some stains just don’t go away…

Well... that and you leaving a semi-filled laundry basket just to come home to an empty basket and suspiciously clean clothes always gives him away.

“Tell this ungrateful, little hole to take what it's given and stop wasting.”

“Jagi- Fuck. Jagiya, stop wiggling so much. The deeper I am, the better I can breed you.”

"I need to cum- God, please, baby- you haveta' take it all. You owe me for being so fucking tight and wasting all my cum."

“If you keep spilling, I’ll have no choice but to fuck another couple of loads into you, Honey.”

"You're gonna be so fucking sexy, all nice and round with my kits in your tummy. Yeah? Right fucking here." As he puts his palm on your lower stomach 🥴

"Yeah? You're gonna give me a litter? Gonna have our babies runnin' around my parent's house while I stuff you full with even more of them."

Taglist:

@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08

@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy

@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @bubblerizz

@mariteez

[oharaslove]

Miguel O’hara is a man written by a woman when he loves okay (At least from my perspective). He isn’t the one to take, and take, but never give. NO

He gives his all to you. He finds pleasure in giving you that. Pleasure. 

Many would say he is grumpy, avoidant, distant, reluctant to touch, cold. But all that is far from the truth when you two are together. When his hunger for you consumes his whole body, clouds his mind, his brain goes back to his most primitive instincts. However, Miguel is still aware of how delicate and soft you are, and he treats you as such. 

Miguel would never, ever, just take your body and look for his release. He would make sure you find yours first. And… not only once, maybe not even twice. 

You are his everything. His goddess. The person who made him want to love again; the one that made him see that being vulnerable was okay, that he wasn’t an unlovable monster. So… every chance he gets, he puts you on that pedestal and praises you. He talks you through it, and I’ll die on this hill. 

Miguel who, despite how desperate he is to make you feel good; to have you in his arms, he takes his time. He kisses you slowly, all his feelings poured in it. His lips brushed against sure, tongues fighting one another; tasting. Miguel loves kissing you; loves the way your breath becomes ragged, your hands roaming his body, while he does the same.

He would break the kiss, allowing you to breathe, to gasp for air, while his mouth pays attention to other spots on your body. Miguel kisses the corner of your mouth, moving downwards towards your jaw, where he peppers small pecks, before attacking your neck. He leaves open mouth kisses along your throat, occasionally sucking hard, leaving bite marks behind, which he loves. 

While his mouth focuses on your throat and face, his hands explore the rest. Miguel begins touching you slowly, shy even. He caresses your exposed skin. First, he starts cupping your face, tittling it just the way he wants it, giving him more access to your neck or a better angle to devour your mouth. But, as the kisses grow hungrier, needier, his hands become bolder. 

Miguel would slide his hands under your clothes, sometimes teasing you over the fabric. He would play with your nipples, earning gaps and moans from you, while you arched your back towards his hands. The only time his being would detach himself from you, is when taking off your clothes, so he can appreciate your naked beauty. And have more access to what he wants. 

When you first started being intimate with Miguel, you were shy about your body. Though, you quickly stopped, because this man loves you. He makes sure to make you feel wanted and loved and taken care of. I mean, you think that you are imperfect? That you don’t have any titties, or ass or curves or whatever?

For him it was no problem. Miguel would make you feel like the most beautiful person on Earth. You don’t have to have breasts or ass for Miguel to be all over you. You just have to be, well you. Only your waist, hips, legs, whatever size, colour, shape, texture, anything, is enough. Miguel is starved. He gives his everything for you, because from his point of view?

You are the incarnation of the word perfection. If Aphrodite were real, he wouldn't mind starting a second Troyan war. Miguel would straight up tell her, to her face, that her beauty is nothing, NOTHING, compared to yours. 

Miguel who loves kissing all over your skin. Every time he peels a piece of clothing out of you, you better count on the fact that his mouth is on your flesh before the fabric touches the floor. He pecks, gives open mouth kisses, leaving a trail of saliva across your skin; he bites occasionally being mindful of his fangs (Though, you didn’t mind if sometime he would just sink them, just for research, of course). 

Miguel loved leaving marks on your body, they were a sign of a job well done. Across your neck, chest, lower stomach and all over the inside of your thighs. He would tease the heck out of you, kissing closer and closer where you need him the most, but not coming close. Not until you are a whining mess, begging him to eat you out, he gives in. And oh, when he gives in. 

Remember when I said he was starved? Well, he could eat you out every day and still be starved. He eats you out like it is his last meal on this Earth. He leaves open mouth kisses on your clit, sucking from time to time, before moving down. First, he makes out with your hole, swirling his tongue around it, teasing you. He loves the sounds you make, you can’t blame him for that. 

His tongue enters your hole skillfully, knowing exactly what makes you shiver. What makes your legs shake and eventually, what makes you come all over his face. But he doesn’t stop. He gets you through your orgasms, but he doesn’t stop. He keeps going, slurping against your core, overstimulating you. He makes you come again against his tongue, and only then, after cleaning you out, and you having to basically push him off, grabbing his hair, he seems satisfied. 

But the night doesn’t stop there. Before making love to you, he uses his fingers to pry to open. There is no teasing this time. He crawls over your body, like a wild animal. He kisses you slowly, making you taste yourself in his mouth. You moan, making him groan in return. His hands caress your sides, squeezing your hips and thighs.

You make out for a while, until he decides to trail a hand down your body, starting from your chest. One finger caressing your skin, going down the valley of your breasts, continuing over your stomach, gently brushing your clit, making you jump. He reaches your hole, where he sticks two fingers in and starts pumping. 

You hold onto his arms for dear life, the pace of his fingers making the third orgasm of the night approach quickly. You whine and moan, bubbling incoherent things. Strings of “Miggy please” and “Gods yes, right there”. You arch your back, giving Miguel full access to attack your breasts, kissing and sucking over your nipples, rolling them between his fingers of his free hand. Once he feels your pussy squeeze his digits harder, his thumb draws tight circles on your clit, matching his pace, throwing you over the edge. 

When you come, Miguel’s face is over yours, he loves seeing how it contorts in pleasure when you reach your high. You never see it, because your eyes roll back or are closed, but he always smiles down at you. He pecks your lips, then your cheeks and your nose, helping you calm down after the peak. He pulls his fingers out, sucking on them and groaning. 

You are a panting mess. Your hair is all over the pillow, your skin with a layer of sweat, his love marks painting your skin. You never looked more perfect. 

Slowly, Miguel gets off the bed, stripping out of his own clothes. His dick finally being free from his pants, pre-cum already smearing over his red, angry tip. He would crawl into bed, opening your thighs slowly and settling between them. 

You can’t tell me Miguel’s favourite position isn’t missionary. That man needs to see you at all times. He wants to see your face when he enters you slowly. Despite your first three releases, his cock still stretches you out, and you love it. Miguel loves watching his length disappear inside of you, a small bulge forming on your lower belly, signaling where he rests inside. He gives you time to adjust, as any gentleman would, while he peppers kisses on your jaw, reaching your ear and licking it. 

“So tight beba” he would groan. “Always so good. Taking me so well. Such a good girl”

Miguel also loves missionary because it means he can hear your moans right in his ear. Missionary means your hands will be on him, scratching his back, grabbing his biceps for dear life when he starts trusting harshly. His hips snap against yours, his balls against your ass. The room feels with sex sounds; the slapping of skin, both your moans, groans and panting, the bed frame hitting the wall continuously, matching Miguel’s relentless pace. 

You cry in his ear, burying your face where Miguel’s shoulder connects with his neck. Your legs wrap against his waist, keeping him in place. Your hands run down his back, nails digging on his skin leaving marks Miguel loves to look at in the morning. 

His arms cage you in, keeping himself over you. But he leans over, leaving kisses and whispering praises in your year. 

“You are doing so good, Fuck. Just like that”

“Sos tan hermosa mi amor” (You are so beautiful mi amor)

“Are you going to cum for me, mm? Just one more time, please beba”

You always knew that, one last time, meant two. Your already overstimulated body couldn’t keep up with his stamina. In order for him to cum, you needed to come twice. 

You could tell when Miguel was close, his arms would begin to shake, his pace would falter, becoming irregular. His groans would become louder, moans would make his way out of his plump lips. He would kiss you harder, needier, hungrier. Miguel would hold you closer, trying to crawl into your skin. When he comes, he bites down hard against your shoulder, realising inside of you. 

You stay holding each other, Miguel basically crushing you. Your legs tangled together, hands roaming each other's body lovingly, until Miguel finds the strength to detach himself. He smiles down at you. Miguel pushes the hair out of your face, before leaning down and capturing your lips in a more tender kiss. He would grab your hands and kiss your knuckles before pulling out of you, watching how his cum drips out. 

And of course, aftercare. He is the king of it. He would make sure you use the bathroom, carrying you to it if necessary. Miguel would clean you up, draw a bath where you can sit together and relax. If you fell asleep he would carry you to bed. If not, after helping you dry and helping you to bed, he would bring you your favourite snack and water. He would do anything for you, anything. 

Sex with Miguel is something more than just that, sex. Is not only the act of connecting both your bodies. It is…

Love. It is making love. It’s beyond your corporeal beings, it’s about worshipping one another. Showing, feeling that love through acts, words and so much more. Because he loves you, and you love him back. Forever.

[f1fantasys]

He Just Wants My Body, I Want His All - Part 1

Warnings - explicit smut. masturbating, oral m! and f! receiving, nipple stimulation, penetrative sex, choking, blowjobs, swearing, use of the word Slut. Minors DNI.

Winter break.

Snow, skiing, hot chocolate, wine, and

sex, or lack there of.

With the f1 season over and done with for another year, it only meant one thing. A getaway deep in the mountains surrounded by snow, with your closest friends, and him.

You and Lando had been tip-toeing each other for too long now, getting to a point where it was a matter of time until one of you breaks. The constant flirting, darkening eyes, lingering touches, you both had it bad. And to make matters worse, it had been months since you last had a good fuck, so to say you were getting antsy was an understatement. Pleasuring yourself was no where close to giving you what your body craved. You knew Lando hadn't had that problem. The boy was a player, balls deep in a new girl every weekend, and you hated yourself for wanting him this badly. But whenever you were around each other, everything faded away, and he made you feel like the only girl he wanted.

Max had told you a couple of times now that those girls mean nothing to Lando. They're just a form of helping him get a decent fuck in before his races, not because he wants them. No. He wants you. And each time Max told you this, you laughed in his face.

You definitely weren't sure about a future with Lando. You were both still young, reckless. All you craved from him at the minute was his body. Often, you'd think about how his lips would feel on yours, would he leave you plumped and bruised, hickey's on your sweet spot? How would his tongue feel circling your hard nipples, or better yet, on your cunt? Lapping through your folds as he finger fucked you, stretching you out for his girth, which you imagined to be mighty big. Then you'd think about how he fucked. Is he slow and soft? Or does he prefer quick, hard and rough? You imagined the latter.

''Y/N!'' Lando's voice rang in your ears as you came back to earth, his fingers clicking in front of your face.

''Huh, sorry, I zoned out'' you said, looking at him like a deer caught in headlights, tying to play it cool because you could feel your panties, wet, from the dirty thoughts you were having.

''You don't say'' he said, smirk on his face as if he knew what was going on in your mind.

''Hot tub?'' he asked. ''Max and P are gone for a walk, so it's just you and me.''

''Yeah sure'' you said, the words leaving your mouth before you could over think it. You got up to go get changed, not giving Lando the chance to say anything else, though you heard him mumbling something to yourself because the last 5 minutes were weird as fuck, you'll admit.

He was already sat inside when you came out, with the hot water bubbling away, already giving his face a glow with sweat. You winced as you took off your gown, revealing a skimpy bikini that left nothing to imagination, as you stepped into the tub, the heat a stark contrast to the cold of the air.

You sat across him, involuntarily letting out a moan as the water soothed your aching muscles, Lando's eyes on you the whole time.

For a few minutes, neither of you spoke, the tension getting thicket with each passing second until you couldn't take it anymore.

''Sooo-'' you started, but Lando cut you off.

''So- how long?'' he asked, voice raspy with intent.

''What?'' you asked, taken aback.

His next words pushed you off the cliff.

''How longs' it been since you fucked?''

You couldn't bring yourself to answer him, brain short circuiting.

''I-why?'' you asked back.

''Before, could always tell when you'd had a good night. You haven't been the same and I'm guessing it's coz your fingers aren't doing justice.''

You quickly felt a heat creep up your neck, no surprises your cheeks must be flushed already as it was obvious what the picture in both your minds was - you, naked, fingering yourself.

''I-I'm not going to answer that'' you huffed, leaning further back and looking up at the night sky.

Lando chuckled opposite you, making you look at him again.

His eyes were shades darker than they were a few moments ago.

''Let me help you, yeah?''

''How?''

''I'll guide you through it'' he said, very matter of factly.

''Since when did you become an expert on pleasuring ones self?'' you asked.

''Since it's you who needs help'' he said, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

You should have said no. Should have laughed him off and changed the topic. But you didn't. Your body was already responding to his words.

''Humor me'' he said when you stayed silent.

''Fine, but you owe me...a Rolex if you don't live up to my expectations'' you pressed, smug look on your face.

''Hell, I'll buy you 10'' he said, sitting up straighter, clasping his hands together like an excited little boy as you stuck your tongue out to him.

''First things first'' he said, treading closer to you and taking a hold of your legs.

You jumped at the contact, not expecting him to touch you at all.

''Relax, just taking care of the first step'' he said softly as his hands found your waist and shamelessly pulled your bikini bottoms down and off you, before resuming to his position opposite you, smirking.

Your body was still tingling his his touch, you really had it out bad, and little did you know, he had it worse. If anyone asked him right now, he'd wouldn't have an answer as to what the hell he was doing, but now that he's made a step forward, he wasn't gonna turn back.

''Do you trust me?'' he asked, teasing voice gone and replaced with sincerity.

''Yes'' you replied quickly, because it was the truth.

Within seconds he was treading in front of you again, his hand finding yours underwater, giving it a squeeze before he held just your index and middle finger, every so slowly bringing the two up, slipping them to his mouth before letting out a moan.

You watched on in shock, mouth agape at the feeling of his hot tongue swirling around them, sucking harshly, and repeating the process over and over.

''Lando..'' you breathed his name out, already feeling your pussy desperately clenching around nothing. His free hand found your bikini strings under the water, untying them easily as he freed your boobs, though still unable to see them.

Just as you wished for more from him, he released your fingers with a pop before sitting back again, losing contact with your body.

You groaned at that, needling more but he sat there was a smug smile.

His voice was stern as he spoke. ''Hands on your breasts, love'' he said, the nickname waking up the butterflies in your tummy.

You did as you were told, hands finding your perky breasts, eyes shutting momentarily as he continued. ''Tease yourself - your nipples. Are they hard?''

''-Yes'' you were quick to answer.

''Perfect, pinch yourself hard. I wanna hear you moan''

You obeyed, but held back the groan you so desperately wanted to let out

''Not gonna let you cum til you do as i say love'' he said, the nickname returning.

This time you didn't hold back. You rolled your nipples through your fingers, squishing them between and let out a series of erratic moans.

It could have been a minute, or 30, who knows, but when Lando didn't speak after that, you opened your eyes to find him staring at you, bottom lip between his teeth. It was only then that you noticed how you'd lifted your body up, your boobs now on full display that had him speechless.

''Lan-''

''You're fucking perfect, fuck. Can't imagine how good your cunt looks if this is just the top half of you'' he whimpered, eyes finding yours.

He looked like he was itching to get a hold of you, but he held himself back, licking his lips and clasping his hands on his knees, leaning slightly forward but not as much as you wished he would.

''Let your hands go south now, cup your throbbing pussy. Must be dripping, yeah? For me maybe?''

Your breath hitched as your fingers found your cunt, which yes, was wet all thanks to the man in front of you. You ran through your folds quickly, eliciting more moans as Lando watched on mouth agape.

''Are you? Wet for me?'' he asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.

''I-fuck me. I am'' you said, not caring how wussy you sounded, how breathless you sounded.

''Find your clit, I want to hear you loud, desperate, give yourself the friction you so badly crave.''

''Oh god,'' you whispered, head falling back, pushing your boobs out the water again.

''That's it, go on. Tread by your hole, push one in'' he said in a low voice, trying to keep himself together.

''Imagine it's my finger, big and rough, thrusting into you hard and rough'' he demanded as your voice rose with each moan, sharp gasps escaping your mouth with each push. He hadn't told you to, yet, but you added a second finger, your walls clenching perfectly around them as you sped up your pace as Lando threw more words at you, half of them sounded muffled as your brain was not thinking clearly right now. All you could focus on was what you imagined his fingers to feel like.

''Fuck Y/N, you look so hot right now, I'm so fucking hard watching you like this. Gonna sit up and let me see the mess you're making? he asked.

You didn't answer though. You halted your movements for a split second as you lifted your body out of the water, setting you ass outside as your legs stayed submerged, watching Lando as his eyes darkened, whole demeanor changing. You spread your legs for him to see your glistening cunt, throbbing and all it took was a whisper of his name for him to pounce.

His hands were on you, spreading your legs further and flexing his arms muscles as he dove straight in, tongue sliding through your folds as you took a hold of his hair, tugging at it while he lapped at your pussy, using his fingers to pry your hole open further, and thrusting his tongue through it relentlessly.

God you had waited for this moment for so long, and now to be going through without felt nothing short of bloody amazing.

''Please, don't stop, fuck Lando'' you mumbled between moans. The cold air making your body shiver but you couldn't give a damn because of Lando's hot mouth on you.

He really knew what he was doing, devouring you most sensitive parts as his thumb rolled over your clit, an orgasm ripping through you with no warning as you shook and trembled, oozing your sticky cum straight into his mouth, sending him into an array of groans at the taste of you.

Your chest was heaving, Lando not slowing his movements one bit as you tried to regain your breath, and soon he replaced his tongue with three fingers, plunging into you with no warning while he leaned up to latch his mouth to your left nipple, biting and tugging on it harshly.

''Lando, I'm-fuck. I'm gonna cum again'' you said, sure you could cum just from looking down at his face, dripping with your juices. ''Please'' you begged, not sure what for.

His fingers brushed against your G-spot over and over again, giving you that stimulation that you just couldn't give yourself these past months, and it was a matter of seconds until you came crashing down again, body trembling in his arms as he finally slowed his movements, quickly pulling you back into the hot water to warm you up as he whispered dirty nothings into your ear.

He wrapped his arms around you, and you allowed yourself to collapse forward onto his body, shallowed breaths leaving your mouth.

It took you both a second to realize the position you were in - You, naked, on his lap, whilst his dark hardened.

Should it have been awkward? Yes. Was it? No.

Because Lando cupped your face and clasped your lips together in a dominant frenzy. It was messy, desperate, both your tongues fighting each other as your hands roamed each others' bodies. He moved his mouth down your neck, sucking and nibbling on your sweet spots as if he knew your body inside out already, as if you'd done this a thousand times.

You started girding your ass down on his hard on, mentally screaming at just how large he felt under your tiny cunt.

Eventually, you found air to speak, though your words were shaky. ''Lando, please, I need more'' you begged as he pulled his head back to look at you.

By now your body was shivering, not knowing if it was from the snow that had started falling or from the way Lando's gaze was dark, full of lust.

''I-fuck. Can we fuck?'' he asked, already lifting you up in his arms as you frantically nodded your head, as he stepped out the hot tub before placing you down to wrap your gown around you.

The walk up to your room was rushed, Lando hoisting you over his shoulder, practically running up the stairs.

He threw you on your bed, sliding your gown off your body as he stepped back to rid himself of his shorts, revealing him in all his glory as you leaned up on your elbows.

He was thick, to no surprise.

But still, your eyes widened and your pussy throbbed at the sight in front of you.

His cock stood tall against his stomach, twitching, with pre cum oozing down the thick vein at the side.

''Like what you see? Or just desperate for any cock?'' he asked, smirking down at you.

As much as you wanted to tease back, you couldn't help but let a smile creep up your face, causing him to laugh out loud, literally.

''Fuck you'' you mumbled, laying back down, staring at the ceiling.

''I'd rather you fuck me, love'' he said, voice turning raspy again, making your breath hitch.

He hovered above you, knees on either side of your body as he bought a hand to your face, gently lingering his finger on your cheeks as his eyes bore into yours.

You shuffled underneath him when you felt his hard on pressing against your thigh, but his hands were quick to land on your waist, holding you still.

'''Night's gonna end early if you do that'' he said, hint of mischief in his eyes, then he groaned, letting his head fall on your chest making you instinctively wrap your arms around him.

''Fucking condom'' he mumbled as you giggled, running your hands through his hair.

''On the dresser'' you said lightly causing his head to shoot up in disbelief.

''Y/N, holidaying with condoms?'' he asked, already untangling himself from you to grab what he needed.

''Always come prepared'' you said firmly, backing yourself.

''Who were you planning on using it with?'' he asked.

''A hot European man.. tall, tanned, oh i could go on'' you teased as Lando returned to his place above you.

He sat back om his heels as he tore the little packet open with his teeth, all the while you let your finger trace against the vein on the side of his girth. He hissed at the contact, dick twitching involuntarily as he slid the condom on before leaning down to lock lips with you. It was a slow, sensual kiss this time, lazy with your tongues tangling together short gasps leaving your mouths.

Finally though, Lando positioned himself at your entrance.

''You sure?'' he asked.

''I am. Please'' you said, cupping the side of his face as it hovered over yours, your hot breaths mingling together as he slid into your pussy in a single stroke.

Your back arched off the bed, breath hitching as his head fell to your neck, the both of you moaning in unison.

''Give me a sec'' you said softly, needling some time to adjust to his size.

''Fuck you're tight.'' he groaned in your ear.

And soon the pleasure started taking over the pain. You shifted your body, letting Lando know he could move. And did he.

He pulled out of you completely before pounding in again at such a rough pace, all you could do was shut your eyes and dig you hands into his biceps as he repeated the motion over and over again.

''Lando'' you gasped his name as he brushed over your G-spot. ''Please, harder, fuck me harder'' you begged, needling him to give you his all. You were sure you'd never had it this rough before, and he was certainly one of the biggest, but knowing all that only turned you on even more.

''I am fucking you, love. You feel so fuckin' amazing. Can't believe I waited this long to get into your pussy'' he spurred, hands grabbing your hips, imprinting them for sure.

''I'm gonna cum'' you warmed as his fingers found your clit, rubbing over it to quickly send you over the edge, body trembled beneath him as you gushed your hot sticky cum all over his condom-clad dick, pornographic moans leaving your lips along with praises of his name.

And when Lando looked down to see the coating on the condom, he was quick to let out his own guttural moan, movements becoming erratic at just that sight though he was determined to make you cum again before he reached his own high.

He pulled out of you before man handling your body to flip you over onto all fours. You body was like jelly by now so he had no choice but to hold you up himself, your back against his chest, lining himself up at your entrance again.

Your bodies were sticky with sweat, goosebumps raising as he pushed into your again, this time slow and gentle, just for a split second before picking up the pace again.

The sounds leaving your mouth were obscene, no coherent thought in your mind - just Lando and his dick giving your body was it's so desperately needed.

His one hand found your boobs, pinching your nipples between his fingers as his other found your throat, giving it a few squeezes which had you whimpering endlessly. Something about him claiming you had you dizzy and excited.

''Gonna be a good slut and cum for me baby?'' he asked, his voice hoarse as the nicknames had you spiraling, another orgasm puttering through your body viciously, his name leaving your lips like a mantra as he chuckled to himself.

Before you knew what was happening, you were on your back again, at the edge of the bed as Lando placed one foot on the bed, keeping one on the ground, sliding through your puffy cunt again but this time with sloppy, erratic movements. You could feel his dick start to twitch uncontrollably as you pulled his head down for a dirty kiss.

''Fuck, I'm gonna-shit'' he groaned as he released his splutter into the condom while still sliding through you as your walls clenched tightly around him, sending you in an array of your own moans at how sensitive you were already. His body bucked and jerked as he rode himself through it, this time praising your name along with lots of cuss words.

Eventually Lando let his body fall a top of yours, putting all his weight on you as you wrapped your arms around him, but not before running them through his damp hair.

You could feel his breath on your neck, hot and sticky as you both lay there, chests heaving, bodies shivering, all the while he softened inside of you.

After a few minutes of silence Lando gave you one last deep kiss before pulling out, wincing at the loss of contact His plan was to get a towel to clean up, but his body betrayed him and he ended up on his back next to you, his eyes shamelessly roaming your body.

Not knowing where you got a burst of energy from, you straddled his legs, taking a hold of his dick and pulling the condom off, making Lando hiss.

His cock was sticky with his milky cum, and you messed your hand when you gave him a few pumps, indulging in hearing the moans leave his lips as he was already beginning to harden again.

You looked up at him in surprise. ''Already?'' you asked.

He smiled at you, bottom lip between his teeth. ''Formula 1 driver. Stamina'' he teased, though his face contorted with pleasure when he felt your lips wrap around his tip with no warning, bucking his hips up.

''Fuck, Y/N, that mouth of yours'' you said breathlessly, hands pulling your hair out of your face.

You moaned when you tasted him, your tongue circling around his tip as his grip on your hair tightened.

Fondling with his balls, you took him deeper into your mouth, gagging when he hit the back of your throat as you started a steady pace of bobbing you head up and down his shaft.

All that was heard in the room were the sloppy sounds of your mouth sliding over him, and Lando's gasps and moans, your name falling from his lips every now and then.

''I'm not gonna last long with that rate you're going, Y/N'' he warned, though you didn't slow your pace even a little.

''Fuck me, where do you want'' he asked, leaning up on his elbows, and once again, you didn't respond to him. If anything, you tried to take him deeper, sucking harder at his tip, and in seconds Lando was a shuddering mess, his hips bucking up erratically as his cum shot out of him, down your throat.

You gagged again, mouth full of his cum as it started dripping out of the corners when you pulled back, swallowing most of it but keeping some in as you climbed higher up Lando's body, that was still shuddering, only to pry his mouth open with your fingers, let his cum drip down from your mouth into kiss before you kissed him hard, but sloppy, dirty.

When you pulled back, you were both breathless once again, faces messed with sweat and cum, spit running down your chins.

''Fuck me, who knew you were a wild one'' he said, running his hands through your hair as you giggled into his neck, giving him a few pecks.

Eventually, after you both actually cleaned up, albeit a few mishaps of teasing, you settled into bed, your body curled up besides Lando's as he wrapped am arm around you.

The reality of what happened lingering through the both of you, though it didn't feel as awkward as it should have.

''I know we've been tethering on the edge for too long now, and fuck me if it wasn't as good as i always imagined it to be..'' he said, leaving a kiss on your head as your body stiffened, not sure if you wanted to heat his next words.

Before, you could have argued that you only wanted him for sex, but at the back of your mind you always knew that was a lie. It wasn't normal to feel the kind of goosebumps you did when he did so much as look at you, and you knew you were falling for him, inch by inch. And sharing such an intimate moment like this tonight only heightening those feelings. You should wasn't sure if it was one sided.

''I'm not ready for a relationship Y/N, not with work and all..'' he said softly as your heart clenched. A part of you also knew that he knew that's what you wanted.

''But, I don't wanna miss out on us having fun. We're a terrible duo that do it so good together. So I guess what I'm asking is if you'd be up to being my exclusive fuck buddy'' he said, eyes finding yours when you looked up at him.

''Exclusive?'' you asked.

''Ýeah. No more random girls at different race. Or guys for you!'' he teased, pinching your sides.

''Yes'' you were quick to reply, though you definitely should not have. This was only gonna end with you getting your heart broken. But if it meant getting this much from him at the moment, you were ready to take that.

''Yeah?'' he asked, somewhat surprised.

''Yeah, but you owe me 10 Rolex’s!'' you teased back.

''Of fuck off, don't even try to tell me I didn't help get you off, multiple times, if I may add'' he said, leaning down to give you one last dirty kiss of the night.

A/N - hope you enjoyed this! I'm planning on making it a mini series with some angst (I know!!). Let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist.

[seungfl0wer]

*Run Rabbit*

Pairing: Lee Know x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Primal Play, Breeding, Hair Pulling, Spanking, Dirty Talk, Sex Outside, (P In V), Reader called Bunny. (not proof read)

Kinks: Primal Play + Breeding

˚ ༘♡Master List (Here) for the 1K Event

-🩵

Your boyfriend has invited you to go camping for the weekend with him. A nice peaceful area he has found, nestled in the woods a small cabin by the lake. The place was beautiful and at night you could see the stunning stars sprinkled across the sky. You had already set up everything and were just relaxing by the fire as he cooked some meat over it.

The two of you sat there just talking about everything until Minho left out a chuckle. You tilted your head as if to ask him what he was laughing at and he pointed. You squinted your eyes to see two rabbits chasing on another the bigger one mounting the other. “Ah to have the thrill of the chase” he said almost too nonchalantly. Staring at him for a brief second “hmm” you said eyes locked on him. “What? Don’t think it’d be fun for me to chase you through these woods like a little bunny running from a mighty cat?”

He was meeting your gaze now smirking at the way your eyes almost lit up at his words. “Yeah? And does it end in the big ol cat eating the rabbit” you teased. “Something like that. Something will probably get eaten in the end” he shrugged. You choked on your spit at his comment, you could feel yourself becoming turned on as you played fantasy’s in your head. “Bunny” he said his voice almost teasing “I’ll give you a minute to run as far as you can.” The devilish smile that was plastered across his face made you almost moan.

“And if you catch me?” You say tilting your head again. He breathed in letting the air out in a sigh “then I’ll fuck you like the little rabbit you are” he chuckled. You stood up looking at him with a smile “you gotta catch me first kitty cat.” You teased. You were ready to bolt out of there before Minho spoke “before I start the timer you remember the safe word right bunny?” He said already eyeing you up. You nod “mhm.” You said in almost a hum. “Good you better get going I hit the timer a good 10 seconds ago” he said with a laugh.

You didn’t even hesitate running through the woods looking everywhere for a place you could hide. You heard Minho yell “Oh bunny” your brain going fuzzy realizing the time was already up and he was on the hunt. You ran past a tree with a red mark realizing you had already passed it. You were going in circles. You could hear twigs snapping as Minho ran through the woods in search for you. You didn’t know if you wanted to hide because the chase excited you or wanted to be pounced on from how turned on you were with all of this.

A twig snapped again sounding too close for comfort this time. As you started to run again you could hear Minho behind you “bunny” his voice almost growl running close behind you. You bobbed and weaved through the brush trying to lose him. You looked back quickly and saw he wasn’t there which made you slow down a bit. You were trying to catch your breath before you hear another twig break this time directly behind you. Before you could even react Minho had his arms around you, he manhandled you to the ground.

He moved you into position ass up in the air head down in the dirt. “Dirty little rabbit gave me a good chase.” He growled gripping your hips nicely as he pushed his body down onto to whisper into your ear. “Did the stupid little bunny really think she could out smart the sly cat hmm?” He chuckled an almost villain laugh. “I’m gonna fuck this rabbit stupid. Gonna show her why little bunnies shouldn’t mess with big scary cats.” He said voice husky, he was gripping your thighs hard rutting into you as he talked.

“My pretty little bunny” he said moving his body back to smack your ass hard. You let out a whimper your core aching from his touch, from his hot words. God you needed him, you needed him so badly it almost hurt. Minho on the other hand his brain was so foggy. The scenario running through his head as he felt his animalistic desires taking over. He felt as if he just caught his prey and was ready to completely devour you. The glint in his eyes was almost unnerving but fuck was it ever so hot.

He had no thoughts in his head other than ‘breed bunny.’ His body was almost on fire from desire and so was yours. Everything felt hot felt like a movie scene or I guess a porn scene. Minhos hands yanked down your sweats, ripping the pretty little lace panties you had on before pushing his fingers into you. The feeling of having something finally inside you made you moan so heavenly. Your wet cunt dripping around his digits clenching around them.

He chuckled that same villain like chuckle “you’re so fucking desperate aren’t you” he said his free hand coming down hard on your ass. “You’re such a filthy little animal” his voice almost a growl at this point. He pumped his fingers in and out of you stopping abruptly pulling them out. You let out a loud whine at the loss of them feeling so empty now. “I’ll give you another minute to run hmm?” He said his tone teasing. When you didn’t move though he smirked “no? Rather stay here and let me fuck you senseless? Gonna be my little toy to fuck hmm?” His words made you groan in response “y-yes” you stuttered out.

Minho bit his lip hard, he pulled his pants down quickly his cock sprang up smacking his stomach. He wasn’t super girthy but was very long. You always joked he had a pornstars dick which almost inflated his ego of course. He aligned himself to your entrance rubbing the head between your folds hitting your throbbing little nub. The sensation made you moan you were so sensitive wanting just to be touched at this point.

Minhos eyes were locked on the way your juices wet his cock making a mess of it. He let out a low groan before he put the tip to your entrance pushing fully in, in one swift motion. He let out the most lustful moan as his balls slapped your wetness. You almost screamed at the feeling of being so filled so fast. He didn’t let himself adjust long before he was pounding into you. His hands gripping harshly at your hips nails digging deep into your skin.

The strewn of ‘fucks’ leaving his mouth started to mumble together, and you? You were such a moaning mess under him drool trailing down your chin. He let another harsh smack to your ass before moving his hand to in tangle in your hair gripping it hard pulling your head back. “This wanted you wanted? The big Cat fucking you like a rabbit in heat hmm? Wanting nothing more than me to fuck you hard like this?” He spat.

You groaned in response but it wasn’t good enough for him “Are you too stupid to talk? Use your words or are you just a dumb little bunny?” He hissed pulling your hair harder. “Fuck- Mm-Min yes- want-“ your words were almost incoherent at this point already so fucked out of your mind. He laughed in response “you can’t even speak properly to fucked out already?” He said this time he didn’t wait for a response. He let go of your hair pushing your head back down as-well as your body, keeping your ass in the air though.

The new angle let him get even deeper he watched as his cock disappeared and reappeared in and out of your sloppy cunt. You could hear him mumbling to himself ‘what mess, so wet for me’ he said ‘gonna cum deep and breed you good’ his voice was almost a whisper and a growl combined. It was so fucking hot. He left a smack to your ass again smirking at the big red print he had made. His movements were becoming a bit erratic, he could feel his high coming. Not wanting this to end just yet he pushed deep into you before stopping his movements.

He reached his hand down to play with your neglected clit rubbing harsh circles over it. He moved his body against yours once again sucking your shoulder and neck harshly. He loved marking your body letting everyone know you were taken. You were taken by him. And only him. The feeling of you being so stuffed, him now biting your neck harshly and his hand moving so perfectly against your clit was too much. Your legs started to shake it becoming harder for you to stay how you were positioned. Minho growled against your skin “stay” he staid feeling your legs become wobbly.

“Min- close- please” you moaned the drool dropping down your face now. The feeling of your walls clenching around him made him start to move. His movements were slow at first before he quickened them groaning against your ear now. “Cum on my cock while I pump you full, gonna breed you so good. Gonna fill you with all my cum- gonna-“ his words stuttered as his high was approaching “gonna make fill you till I know your pregnant with all my kittens” he said bringing his free hand to grip around your throat moving your head to kiss you sloppily.

Sucking hard on your tongue exchanging moans teeth crashing into each other. You felt your legs almost give out at the last hard thrust of Minhos burring his cock deep inside you before releasing all his hot cum. You could feel his cock poking at your stomach feeling all of his hot liquid fill you to the brim. His hand that was still playing with you clit moved faster as your high came along just as quick. Your high washing over you as your cunt gripped him perfectly. “Ah- fuck-“ he moaned out at the feeling “your cunts gonna suck every last drop out of me” he said body shaking at the feeling.

“Y/n” he moaned into your ear he wrapped his arms around you pulling you close to him as you came down from your high both of you trying to catch your breath. Once you two came down you could feel him still twitching a bit inside you. His arms lazily wrapped around you his head in the crook of your neck as he kissed you softly. “Ugh fuck” he groaned out. “What?” You said breathily. “We’re gonna have to walk the whole way back” he whined. You chuckled a bit “yeah guess so.”

He smiled against your skin “I’ll give you a minute to get back or we’ll just go for a round two if I catch you.” He chuckled a bit. “Minho, I don’t even think I can stand right now.” You teased. “Well better try before I start the counter again.” He said kissing your neck. You were gonna call his bluff but you could feel his cock become hard again. “If I make it home before you catch me we are taking a nice bath.” You bargained. He nodded “fine but you better start running I already started the timer.” He said with an evil grin. This little asshole I swear.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

[arminsumi]

🔞 MDNI/18+

warnings : smut, not proofread, breeding kink, daddy kink, p*ssy drunk Gojo, creampie, unprotected sex, begging, whiny/sub-ish Gojo, deep penetration/cervix mention, multiple rounds, nicknames, dirty talk, some breastplay/smacking

i had a vision! 🥴💦

gojo satoru gets so pussy drunk sometimes that he whimpers like a bitch while driving his fat heavy cock in and out of your pussy and he starts begging for you to turn him into a daddy — bla bla bla give him a baby, please let him fertilize you! he promises his cum is potent! 🥺 when he's so deep inside you his brain goes blank n all he can think about is pussy and breeding. his tip is squished and squeezed so tight, he sputters dumbly and rolls back his eyes and shudders and curls his toes and just keeps fucking your cunt with no breaks. your pussy always hits him like a dope rush and he's addicted. he squeezes n gropes your breasts and smacks 'em a little when he gets lost in the feeling, loving how they jiggle. your breasts under his huge hands is a sight that drives him nuts. oh he can just envision them swelling with milk when you're pregnant with his baby. how many times have you cum? he keeps a mental tally: /// // "yes baby cum again. don't think. we don't n-needa think we just needa fuckkk~ yeah god go dumb on my dick like i'm dumb on your pussy, baby. rub that lil' clit faster. get dumber for me." and the more your pussy milks his throbbing cock, the closer he gets to cumming, he gasps so dramatically "m close m close baby! let me knock up this fuckin' pussy please! i'll take care of you j-jus' have my babies — make me a daddy. can you do that for me? t-take daddy's creampie 'n get pregnant like a good girl?" and when you give him that fucked out nod of approval and whimper for him to cum inside, he thrusts hard and fast till his cockhead kisses your cervix — he cums such a fat milky load, it pours out as three sticky pumps. damn he wishes he had an internal view, you must have been so full of his seed. satoru gasps and writhes from his intense orgasm. your pussy overwhelms his sensitive cock, clinging and contracting around him like it wants to milk him for all he's worth. you can smell his pungent cum spill out and feel it run down your slit. his balls are sticking to your ass from the hot sweat, and he just stays bottomed out inside you for a while. panting heavily. totally enamoured. so dumb from creampieing you and givin' ya his babies that he gets hard in no time and starts thrusting again. his sticky, fat balls slap against your ass loudly. he foams n froths his creampie and stuffs another one and another one deep inside. "no way you're not gettin' knocked up, doll." he smirks drunkenly after draining himself into your pussy. "i can feel how fuckin' full you are w-with my cum." oh and it sounds so sloppy when he slides his cock out your tired hole. he praisingly taps his hand on your pussy right over your puffy clit which you've been rubbing all night. "that's daddy's pussy, isn't it baby? yeah? is that pussy gonna get pregnant for me?" your cute nod makes him grin, "aw, good girl. your pussy's such a good girl."

[starrbishops]

⟡Touch⟡

John Walker x Reader

Part 1 - This is Part 2 to Crush but can be read as a standalone!

Summary: After confessing your feelings for each other, you and John finally act on those feelings.

Notes: Idiots in love, SMUT!!! oral sex (fem rec) fingering, p in v sex, protected sex (that man does NOT need another child to neglect) silly sex idk they're both goofy.

Word Count: 1.8k (??how??)

a/n: So the day I wrote Crush I couldn't sleep and typed like 85% of this out deliours in a google doc and um here it is. I think a horny spirit possessed me or smthn man. Can be read as a sequel or standalone!

When John claimed he was “exceptional” at sex, you took it with a grain of salt.

You were undeniably attracted to him, and he’d already exceeded your expectations kissing, but could you really trust a man, let alone a blond one, let alone John Walker to accurately estimate himself in the bedroom?

As it turned out, you could.

John practically ran to his room with you in his arms, the two of you laughing quietly as you tried not to draw the attention of the others. Most of them were out grabbing lunch, although you vaguely remembered Bob and Alexei planning on watching some old Russian comedy.

Any thoughts of the others left you mind as John pressed another kiss to your lips as he pushed his door open with his hip, not breaking the kiss to close it with foot before gently laying you down on the bed.

“God, I’ve fucking dreamed about this.” He all but groaned as he pressed kisses to your jaw, trailing down your neck and to your collarbone.

You grabbed at the hem of that damn t-shirt that drove you so insane, a hint which John took as he wrestled it over his head.

You paused to admire him; he was well-built, not in an overly showy way, but hard and taut in the right places and blond hair smattered across his chest. Your eyes trail down to his abs-you’d seen them before, when he’d structured once and his shirt had gone up just a bit. It stayed with you for weeks, but that glimpse was nothing to having him bare on top of you now.

“I think it’s only fair you take yours off, now.” His cocky grin make a reappearance, although the usual smugness in it was replaced with a sense of genuine joy and isbeleif, like he was in a dream praying to never wake up.

You chuckle nonetheless and reach down to the bottom of your own shirt. John beats you to it as he yanks the fabric off of you, eliciting a gasp as he tosses it away somewhere.

His eyes take over you, landing on your breasts. You prop yourself up on your elbows to provide better reach as he reaches around to the glass, giving you small nod and a look of is this okay? You nod fervently, and he unclips your bra with a practiced ease, all but ripping it off you as he stares down at your chest.

“Rusty my ass.” You smile.

The joke goes in one ear and out as his lust-addled brain is fixated on your body. “You’re perfect,” he mutters as he leans down to kiss each of your breasts, his hand kneading the other as he takes one of your nipples in his mouth.

You gasp at the sensation, his tongue running around the sensitive bud, pebbling beneath his touch. He moves to the other and you can feel his smile on your tit as he ravishes it just the same.

He pauses to look back up at you, a pensive look on his face. “Can I go down on you?”

You’re a little taken aback to be honest, but you nod vigorously. “Yes. God yes, John-“

Then he’s sitting up and reaching for your jeans, pulling the zipper as you unbutton them before wiggling them off. 

He’s got a single-minded focus now, the look in his eyes turning a little feral as he grabs at your panties, running a thumb over the wet spot where your arousal pools.

“That's all for me?” He asks, part of him stroking his ego, another still insecure in your feelings for him.

“All for you John, all yours-“

Your breathy moans make something snap in him then. He grabs the sides of your panties and rips them from your body, with an ease you suspect is not Al serum strength.

Your mind races but You’re too shocked to make a joke, as John lowers himself between your thighs; planting a kiss to your inner thigh. 

“Sorry.” He mumbles as he peppers your legs with soft kisses before moving towards your dripping cunt. He noses your clit, eliciting a gasp as electric shocks run through you at his feather-light touch.

“So fucking beautiful,” he groans as he moves to lick a long, wet stripe up you, hands moving to grip your hips into place as you writhe under his touch. His beard is rough against your skin, contrasting his soft, passionate touch.

His tongue licks into you, spreading your srousal all over you as he devours you like a man starved. You never took John for a fan of oral, but God you are not complaining as you feel the pleasure build in your stomach.

“John, fuck, so good, Jesus…”

“That’s right, baby,” he grumbles against your skin, “that’s my girl.”

He moves to your swollen clit, latching on as you grip the sheets beneath you. You try and fail to push your hips towards him, to get more of his mouth on you, but his grip is firm and holds you back.

He smiles as he looks up. “Greedy.”

“Asshole,” you manage to breathe out.

“You love it.”

“Are you going to get back to- ohhhh!” Your tease is interrupted by him inserting a finger into you, the sudden intrusion sending shockwaves through your body. His fingers are just as good as you’d dreamed.

“Hey, eyes on me.” he pauses until you swiftly open your eyes once more, seeing his blue eyes stare you down as he adds another thick finger.

He pumps the two of them inside you as you swiftly approach your climax. His mouth returns to you clit, alternating between flicking and sucking in a way that makes you crazy with lust. 

“John, I’m gonna, gonna cum-“

“That’s right baby, come for me.” John presses a kiss to your clit as he adds a third finger, creating a delicious stretch within you before he crooks them just so, in a way that sends you over the edge.

You’re seeing stars, as you come, John not letting up with both his fingers and his mouth as you writhe with pleasure beneath him. 

He slowed with you as you caught your breath, gazing down at him, his beard wet with you. 

“You look so pretty when you come.”

“Should do it again sometime, then.”

He smiles as he removes his fingers, prompting a whine at the empty feeling. You don’t have much time to think about it as you watch him suck the fluid off of them, relishing the taste as if it were a five star meal.

“You taste incredible.” He positions himself ove you once again, kissing you so you can taste yourself in his lips. You grab the nape of his neck as your desperation for him only increases.

“Please John, inside me now.”

He nods, a soldier receiving his orders. He quickly unbuttons and pulls down his jeans as you reach for his boxers, ogling the tent beneath them. 

You yank them down, exposing his cock to you, red and needy, perfume beading on the tip. It matches the rest of him-thick, veiny, not inset long but enough to make your mouth water.

“You like?” He jabs as you nod fervently.

“You’re perfect.” You wrap a hand around the base, getting hiss from the man above you as you slowly pump him.

He grabs your wrist, pausing you. “I’m not gonna last if you keep that up.” He groans, his eyes scrunched up in an attempt to hold it together. You reluctantly relinquish him, as he stands to dig through his nightstand.

He grumbles something, before triumphantly displaying a condom in a bright blue wrapper, with the Avengers logo front and center.

“Where the hell-“

“Alexei.” Ah. The Red Guardian did have a penchant for purchasing any Avengers related merch he could get his hands on, even if it was dollar store condoms.

“Please never bring up Alexei during sex again.” You chuckle as he tears the wrapper and rolls the condom on.

“I get a next time?” He grins, with the face more suited to a lovesick teenager than a grown man.

“We’ll see how you do here.” You lay back on the pillow as he returns to his lace above you, gently running his cock against your folds.

“You ready.” you nod at hinm, as he begins to push into you, the stretch already palpable as just the head enters you. 

“Fuck me, John, Christ…”

“That’s what I’m doing.” he mutters with a grin as he slowly inches into you, the concentration visible on his face. “So fuckng tight, God.”

You both gasp in sync as he bottoms out, your nails digging into his broad shoulders as you wrap your legs around him, drawing him just that much deeper.

“Jesus fucking christ, John…” you mumble, drunk on the feeling of him, inside of you, on top of you, all over you. You don’t think you could ever get enough of him.

John is silent, his deep concentration nd effort to hold it together apparent as he squeezes his eyes shut.

“What happened to eyes on me, huh?”

“Shut up.” he jokes as he hangs in his head in the crook of your shoulder, enabling you to place a kiss to the top of his head. 

“You can move.” you whisper, him responding with a nod as begins to pull out, before thrusting right back into you.

You gasp at the sensation, the breath turning into long moans as he sets his pace, verging on fast but not rough, reverent and cautious to not hurt you.

“More, please, John.” you hear an almost animalistic grunt emerge from him, and you imagine if you could see his face he’d bear the same near feral expression he had earlier.

Sure enough, he lifts his head, his bright eyes dakrned with lust as his thrusts go faster, letting himself go.

And it’s perfect. The feeling of his thick cock rubbing asint you, the way you feel so full, the feel of him, of John. You imagine he’s feeling pretty good too, based on the dirty nothings he’s muttering nonstop.

The room is quiet save the wet sound from where your bodies meet, and the sounds of pleasure the two of you make. You’re too blissed out as you feel another rorgasm approaching to care if the others hear you.

And then John is shifting, reaching a hand down between you, his thumb pressing gently against your clit in a way that makes you almost dizzy with pleasure.

“God, you’re everything.” he groans, “so fucking perfect, and all mine. My girl.”

You try to say something but your thoughts are all too jumbled and incoherent to convey. You’re on the brink again, and from the way his thrusts are beocmong more and more frantic you can tell John is too.

With a final curse, John plunges himself deep inside you as he cums, with you following soon after. He stills as you both come down from your highs, panting from exertion.

“Told you I was good.” he grins down at you.

“Fuck you.”

“Just did.”

a/n: So. I've never actually had sex so this is more of a research based fic (the research being other fics) but um hope you like it! I do this for the people 🫡