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nicksolemnlyswears · 8 months

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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

#carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #fanfiction #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fanfiction #the bear fanfiction #the bear #carmy x reader #carmy x you #carmy x fem!reader

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princessoflalaland · 5 months

Text

it's no surprise that leon gets discouraged sometimes. after everything he's endured, after all the lives lost...sometimes he questions what his purpose is, if anything is ever really worth it.

he's reminded, though, that he's good for something: making you feel good. with his face buried between your plush thighs, he listens intently to how you praise him.

"just like that, baby. 's good, you're so good to me, fuck!" you pant, gripping his blond locks fiercely, eliciting a wanton groan from him.

your essence drips down his chin, his eyes glued to your chest, which rises and falls with labored breaths. he slides two of his thick fingers inside of your greedy hole, reveling in you squeeze him.

"you like that?" he mumbles against your cunt, the vibrations making you convulse. "yes, baby, i love it.." you momentarily open your eyes to find his. the desperation to please you swims in his pools of blue, and you're more than ready to drown in it. "i love you."

his dick just about tries to rip right through his clothes. "lemme suck your clit, baby. lemme make it feel good." and as he does your back makes a perfect arch off the bed. he keeps this up, and the pressure in your stomach will continue to build, edging you closer to your release. "love you so much, love hearing you..." his words sink into you, warm your body from the inside out.

"ohmygodohmygod, oh my fuuuck..!" you keen, fingers hastily pinching and rubbing your nipples.

"'m finally good for something, huh? please, look at me and tell i'm doin good." his cock aches, burns almost, in his pants. he's hoping he does a good enough job eating you out that you'll let him cum inside you.

"you're so good, leon." his cock twitches with each word, every time you say his name. "make me cum, make me cum please!"

his hips buck against the air reflexively, as if he's trying to fuck you through manifestation alone. suckling on your clit, he makes you cream on his tongue, your sweet essence making his mind go blank.

without meaning to, he cums in his pants, whimpering as he laps up everything he worked hard for. hopefully, despite cumming in the most pathetic way possible, you'll still let him fuck you.

#princessdelusionsᡣ𐭩 #yes i did steal a line from an audio i heard #re4 leon x reader #re4 leon #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x black reader #leon kennedy x reader #i need him in ways that are fucking unspeakable plssssssssss #re2 remake leon #re2 Leon x reader

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rafeandonlyrafe · 8 months

Text

another chance

words: 2.3k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, ex!bf rafe, female receiving oral, p in v sex, unprotected sex, drinking/partying, mentions of drugs

“have you noticed his new girl is y/n’s twin?” kelce whispers to topper, who just nods in response. rafe claims that he’s completely over you, that he’s glad you broke up with him and he’s not harboring any sort of resentment over the fact that you left him.

“its so weird.” kelce continues, taking a sip of his drink, watching as rafe holds the new girl around the waist, but he barely looks at her, like if he keeps her in his peripheral vision that he can pretend its you, instead of the first girl he found whose features resemble yours.

“hes getting fucked up all the time now too. he showed up for golf the other day completely strung out.” topper informs kelce, who frowns.

they both know that there is nothing they can do, they don’t want to force you to get back with rafe if you don’t want to, especially with the state he’s in. rafe grabs the bottle of booze he was pouring into his cup repeatedly, forgoing the plastic solo cup in favor of drinking straight out of the bottle.

“rafey, are you gonna take me up to your bed?” the girl asks, no so subtly begging to be fucked by him.

“don’t call me that.” rafe grunts. only you can call him by that nickname, even if you did break his heart.

“are you going to fuck me or not, cameron?” she questions.

“not.” rafe says honestly. he thought it would help, to get it out of his system, to take a new girl to bed, but when he tried to kiss someone at the first party he attended after you, it made him so sick he had to leave. she didn’t look like you, she didn’t smell like you, she didn’t act like you. she wasn’t what rafe wanted.

“fine, then im leaving.” the girl stomps away, like anything could compare to you leaving. rafe finishes the rest of the bottle before flopping down on the couch, letting the alcohol flowing through his system lull him into unconsciousness.

“you deserve to go out and party as much as he does y/n.” stephanie sighs, trying to convince you to join her tonight at the huge beach bash, but you don’t want to risk running into rafe.

“i know, i just don't want to see him with another girl.” you sigh. you may have been the one to break it off with rafe, but you weren't fully over him yet.

“maybe you need to get with one of the turons.” stephanie shrugs. “you know what they say, to get over you gotta get under…”

“that actually might not be a bad idea.” you admit. maybe it's what you need to get rafe out of your system. a random hookup with someone you'll never see again to erase the memory of his touch from your body.

“so does that mean you're coming?” stephanie asks hopefully.

you nod, already planning what you're going to where tonight. “it does.”

“shit, remind me to take you out for ice cream or something to thank you for convincing me to come out tonight.” you tell stephanie, stumbling away from the main dance area with your best friend.

“girl, i knew you needed this!” she exclaims, taking a sip of her cup before frowning, realizing it's empty.

“ill go get us refills, hold on.” you are a lot less drunk than stephanie, so you guide her to sit down before heading to find more alcohol to fill both your cups, wanting to enjoy tonight as much as possible.

you finally find a plastic folding table with some bottles on it, and quickly refill both your drinks before turning, gasping when you run right into someone.

“y/n.” rafe gasps out, his eyes bloodshot like he's been crying. he drops to his knees before before you, making you raise your eyebrows. “i miss you so much. please take me back, ill do anything, ill-” rafe begins to beg, his words slurred as it's obvious he's been drinking.

“rafe.” you cut him off eventually. rafe stops speaking, hands coming to rest on the back of your calves as he looks up at you with pleading eyes. “you're drunk.”

“no, no, no.” rafes head drops, leaning to press kisses along your knees. “im drunk but im serious. please, just give me another chance, ill do anything.”

you frown, hating seeing rafe this way. you broke up with him because you thought he spent too much time getting high and needed to get control of his temper, and didn't know what you could do to help that beside let him work through it by himself.

“anything, y/n.” rafe continues, his hands gripping your legs so tightly. you glance up, looking at all the people at the party staring at you, probably shocked that rafe would get on his knees and beg for anyone to come back.

“you need to stop doing drugs as often.” you state to rafe, making sure to keep your voice low enough to not have it in earshot. “and you gotta work on not getting so angry at the pogues. i don't care that you hate them but you can't constantly be getting into fights.”

“done.” rafe says, nodding his head. “i just need you. ive been a mess without you.”

“we can give it another shot.” you say, and rafes shoots to his feet, his lips pressing against yours. you set the cups down on the table next to you before kissing back, hearing a smattering of whoops and cheers as you make out, your head turning dizzy like the alcohol on rafes tongue is affecting your own.

“i need you, please.” rafe says, and you know exactly what he's asking for. it's what you've been desperately craving from him as well. your bodies were beyond compatible, and you know no boy would compare, so even in the period that you were broken up, you didn't even bother trying to sleep with anyone.

“i have to find stephanie.” you tell rafe, knowing you need to check your friend is good before doing anything, but you loop your fingers through rafes and tug him behind you until you get back to the main dance area, seeing topper with his arm slung around stephanies waist while she grinds against him.

“see she's good.” rafe says, his voice husky, and you know that he's already getting turned on just from the thought of having you again.

you let rafe lead you to his truck, parked in a somewhat isolated spot, but you don't care at this point if people see you as you both climb into the back seat.

“thank you for giving me another chance.” rafe says, his eyes shiny in the low lighting. “i missed you so much. i was such a wreck, but i didn't sleep with anyone else even though we were broken up. i only wanted you.”

“rafe.” you coo, pressing your lips against his, stroking your fingertips over his jaw. “i missed you too.”

“wanna show you how much it means to me.” rafe says, guiding you backwards until your back is against the seat. “that you're giving me a second chance.” his lips skim over yours before he moves lower, schooching down the seat until he's resting between your legs. he takes the bottom of your skirt and pushes it up, revealing your panties.

“you really do gotta-” your speech is cut off with a gasp when rafe presses his lips against your underwear, kissing your cunt through the fabric.

“gotta what baby?” rafe asks, moving to kiss along your thighs as well, his teeth occasionally making an appearance as he drags them against your skin, nipping when you open your mouth to reply.

“gotta get your shit together since im giving you a second chance.” you finally finish your sentence.

“oh, i will baby.” rafe says, rubbing his fingertip over your center, smirking to himself when he sees the fabric dampened with your wetness. “i went so crazy without you, id do anything to not lose you again.”

“take them off, please.” you whine. rafe tugs at your panties, sliding them down your legs until he has to guide them over your heels. he takes the material and scrunches it up, tossing it onto his drivers seat. “i’m keeping those.” he informs you.

“whatever.” you roll your eyes but can’t hide your smile, reaching down to rub your thumb against his cheekbone.

rafe sighs with relief into your touch, leaning his head against your hand. “i’ve missed your taste.” he licks his lips, eyes on your core.

you spread your legs as much as you can in the back of the truck, wishing momentarily that you were having this reunion in a bed, but you know rafe wouldn’t be able to wait that long.

rafe doesn’t hesitate to lean forward, burying his head between your legs. his wide tongue flicks through your folds, licking over your cunt before swirling around your clit.

“god, you’re so good at this.” you moan out, moving your hand to rafes hair, taking the strands between your fingers to keep his face shoved into your cunt, not that he plans on stopping any time soon.

rafe sucks at your clit, feeling rewarded by coaxing moans out of you. his hands grip your thighs, squeezing your delicate flesh between his fingertips.

rafe moves his mouth lower, letting out obscene sounds as he slurps the wetness away from your hole before pushing his tongue against the ring of muscle. he begins to thrust immediately, pushing his tongue in and out of your entrance, giving you the first stimulation you’ve had since you broke up.

“the sweetest taste.” rafe says when he pulls away slightly to kiss along your inner thighs. “i don’t know how i lived without it.”

“you know what my plan was for tonight?” you hum, needing more from rafe, even as his mouth drops back around your clit. “to get with a random turon to help myself get over you.”

you feel rafe pause, his entire body stilling before his eyes raise to make contact with yours. “you were going to sleep with someone else?”

“i couldn’t get over you, i had to do something.” you say, knowing exactly what rafes reaction will be as he rises, wanting to draw that fire and passion out in him. it didn’t matter that you were the one who broke up with rafe, you thought at the time it would be better for both of you, but now you know you can’t live without him.

rafe moves quickly, his strong hands gripping your hips and turning you over. you quickly adjust, pushing up on your elbows as you place your knees on the seat, arching your back to show off your cunt.

rafe releases himself from his shorts, tugging them down his thighs before he lines himself up, sinking in with one quick stroke. your walls meld to his cock, still feeling like you were made for him.

“imagining me sleeping with another guy has really got you worked up, huh?” you question, breath coming out in a pant as rafe instantly begins to thrust.

“shut up.” rafe groans, hips snapping forward into yours. “you’re mine. you’re never leaving me again.”

“yeah?” you question, bringing your ass back to meet rafes thrusts. “gonna get clean for me? gonna get it together?”

“anything for you.” rafe vows, glancing out the windows to make sure no one is looking as he takes you from behind, not that they would be able to see through the tint anyways.

you moan as rafe grabs your ass, relieved to finally have him inside of you again as his cock repeatedly enters you. rafe knows he can’t last very long, having been so desperate for you that he can’t hold himself back as your cunt clenches around him.

“feels so good rafey.” you whine.

“call me that again.” rafe says, needing to hear the nickname slip from between your lips again.

“rafey.” you call out. rafe flips you yet again, this time onto your back as he immediately reenters you, moving too fast for you to comprehend until his mouth is pressed against yours in a searing kiss.

“again, please.” rafe mumbles against your lips, bringing a hand to your clit and rubbing it with his thumb as he thrusts rapidly, knowing your next moan is going to send him over the edge.

you place your hands on the back of his head, giving him a strong kiss as he plays with your clit, your orgasm building as well. you pull away when you can’t hold back the moan anymore, “oh god, yes, rafey.” rafe groans, burying his head in your shoulder as he cums, pumping into you throughout his high as his thumb finally brings you to orgasm as well, clit pulsing as you both pant, letting out low moans and groans as your bodies come down.

rafe presses kisses to your cheeks, your jaw slackened open, still recovering. “i’ve missed your pussy so much.” rafe says before looking down, watching himself pull out.

“come here.” you whine, hating that he’s pulled away. rafe quickly tucks himself back into his pants before hovering over your body again, cuddling into your shoulder. it’s an awkward position, legs askew and body parts pressing against the doors of the truck.

“can i take you home? i want to hold you while i sleep, make sure i don’t let you go again.” rafe says, willing to beg if he needs to.

“of course.” you stretch out your sore muscles, eyelids already feeling heavy, but you know you just have to wait for rafe to drive you home before you can sleep.

it’s not awkward despite the time away from each other as you move to the front seat, making sure to text stephanie, who quickly responds with a picture of herself in toppers bed, making you giggle.

“i love you.” rafe blurts out, unable to not tell you when hearing your laugh.

“i love you too.” you lean over to kiss rafe on the cheek as he drives you back to his house, but you are already home as his fingers link with yours.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @rafecamerongirl @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld

#rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #obx smut #outer banks smut #rafe fanfic #rafe fic #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron fluff

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ghost-recs · 6 months

Note

CAN I ASK FOR A SUNA REC? (preferably timeskip)

YES YOU SURE CAN !! i may have gone down a small rabbit hole but most of them are oneshots. hopefully you'll find something that fits your fancy :)

Suna Timeskip Recs

love sick by @idlerin

synopsis: you are the campus "cupid" and give out love advice to the other students on campus as a hobby. but what happens when suna asks you to fake date him as a way to fend off the girls you're encouraging?

smau, college au - fun dynamics between characters and i'm obsessed with seeing where this goes [ongoing...]

bet on stones by @animatedrapture

synopsis: suna lost a bet, but for you he'd do it all over again.

a pure fluff oneshot with your pro-player boyfriend!

once in a lifetime by @moonswolfie

synopsis: this may be your once in a lifetime opportunity to talk with ejp raijin's suna rintaro, who could blame you for indulging in your small celebrity crush?

cute oneshot, flirting, i love this scenario

Lame Jokes by hurtbycanonthoughts [ao3]

synopsis: the same grumpy customer comes in every morning. you swear you'll get him to smile somehow.

oneshot! full of bad puns and fluff

clair de lune by MyAUIsAMess [ao3]

synopsis: it's been years since you've seen suna, since he made his promise. you're not sure if seeing him again was worth it.

angsty oneshot, right person wrong time that put me in my sad hours.

untitled scenario by @emmyrosee

synopsis: suna misses you while away for volleyball...

it's just cute, okay? he deserves it!

cameral roll by @haijmei

synopsis: suna is known for not being super expressive with his emotions. so how can you tell if he loves something? easy! look through his camera roll

short little oneshot of suna going through his camera roll

don't smile at me by @atzuums

synopsis: model suna is a real jerk, a hot one, but a jerk nonetheless. you just had to fall for him anyways.

smau, this is a bit cheesy, started off with a lot of good potential, but felt rushed at the end

it's a match! by shittyshima [ao3]

synopsis: matching on tinder with suna made your day. him messaging you was the cherry on top!

college au; i'm not gonna lie i feel like this is ooc, but the idea is cute!

i'm just gonna leave this one here again tho - you're not the one (ik it's not a timeskip but it's so good)

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felassan · 2 months

Text

John Epler in the BioWare Discord (August 7th) -

John: "You can disable/enable helmets for cutscenes or at all times." --- User: "Will we be able to collect codex entries again?" John: "Absolutely. Codex entries are part of the series' DNA - plus, they're really fun to write." --- User: "Are there long curly hair options?" John: "There are!" --- User: "Are sub-classes locked to the faction you’re in?" John: "No. They're themed towards factions, but you can choose a specialization from a separate faction than your own." --- User: "Will subtitles from companions be on screen with their icons lit up like in Inquisition?" John: "Subtitles will appear center-screen and have the speaker name attached. So you'll see who's saying what." --- User: "Regarding the cutscenes findable in the game, will a gallery be available for re-watch?" John: "Not at present, no. Since our cutscenes are (almost all) real-time in-engine, this would be nearly impossible with our tech."

[character limit text break!]

User: "What are the chances for a third World of Thedas volume after The Veilguard's release?" John: "I can't comment on specific plans, but World of Thedas is close to my heart and I'd love to do more in general with our ancillary books and products, once we're able to come up for air from the game." --- User: "Can we edit our race during character creator freely or are we locked in by choosing race first like in inquisition?" John: "Lineage informs a number of options after that choice - you can always go back in CC and change it, but it's the first decision you will make and changing it will reset the following decisions." --- User: "I did have a follow-up on lineage - do the other lineages/races also have background choices the way elves do with city/dalish? CAN we play a qunari raised within the Qun?" John: "So a couple of things, just to be super clear on this. There is no 'city elf/dalish elf' switch (for example) that you can pick in character creator. Each lineage can be each faction, though, and that will provide a baseline for your character you can further refine through role playing. For Elves, as an example - Veil Jumper elves tend to be more 'Dalish' to reflect that background, while Shadow Dragon elves tend to have a background that reflects being an Elf in Minrathous. Other factions have their own nuance. Importantly, those things tend to be more focused on how you relate to that faction, while leaving more general 'Elf' topics as something you have more freedom with. Or, TLDR - while choices at CC define some baselines around your character, we like to give you the opportunity to build your character's background and beliefs through in-game RP. Hopefully all that makes sense." User: "That does, and is right in line with what Corinne said during the Q&A! I was asking whether we would see the same background variety in the non-elven lineages." John: "Yes! Sorry, that's what I was trying to answer - there will be plenty of opportunities to RP who you are/were as the other lineages as well."

[character limit text break!]

User: "are there companions gifts again" John: "Isn't the gift of your presence enough? More seriously, though - you very well might find things in the world that certain companions would appreciate!" --- John: "Rook is generally assumed to be anywhere from late 20s to late 40s, but ultimately we don't give Rook a specific age. You can RP them to be however old you want." --- User: "will conversations be zoomed in like a cutscene type or zoomed out like in DAI?" John: "While we do have some 'lighter' conversations for specific types of content, they use a more traditional over-the-shoulder cinematic camera. I created the simple conversation system in DAI and while it did what we needed it to do, we heard the feedback on the camera loud and clear." --- User: "The darkspawn look fairly different in veilguard. Is ot a simple redisgn like the demons or is it due to them being enhanced by red lyrium?" John: "I'm not going to tell you WHAT it is that's making them look different, since that's a spoiler, but it's more than just a visual redesign." --- John: "Need and inspiration, mostly. We can't bring in every single animal out there, especially since we want the ones we DO put in the game to be at the right level of quality. So we pick the ones that we know make sense in the spaces we're building, and also it's based on what the team wants to do. If someone is incredibly passionate about bringing in a specific creature, it's something we want to give opportunities to pursue wherever possible. As to the general ecology of Thedas - there are absolutely similarities, but it's not 1:1. A world where megafauna still exist as apex predators (dragons) is going to have some pretty significant impact on what else exists." --- User: "does the lighthouse have a kitchen, can we eat and drink? what sort interactables are there at the home base" John: "Not going to get into specifics on interactables, but there is more to do in the Lighthouse than conversations with companions. The Lighthouse does have a kitchen, and your companions acknowledge it/use it both narratively and ambiently. Some maybe better than others." John: "A little more expansion on this - we want the Lighthouse to feel like a 'real space' as much as possible. That means making it a space that makes sense and, eventually, feels like home to you and your team. It also means spending a little extra time on how the companions (and Rook) use and exist in the space. At this point we've made a LOT of personal hub spaces in DA and ME, and we've learned a lot from doing so." --- John: "It wouldn't be a DA game if we didn't have some returning characters. We've shown some of the more obvious ones, and hinted at others, but we want to keep some surprises for launch."

[source: the official BioWare Discord]

#dragon age: the veilguard #dragon age the veilguard spoilers #dragon age: dreadwolf #dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #da4 #dragon age #bioware #video games #long post #longpost #mass effect

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starhrtz · 3 months

Text

❝CAUSE I THINK I'VE FALLEN IN LOVE THIS TIME.❞

summary: each one of them, in their own way, seeks for your attention, hoping to be the one you choose..

featuring: wanderer, kazuha, heizou, ga ming.

notes: anyone miss me :3 anyways this was a fic from an old blog of mine. I'll be try to be more active anyways. (DO YOUR DAILY CLICKS!!)

WANDERER — who tried to ignore it. this feeling whenever he hears you talking to your friends, where his chest tightens and him wanting all your attention to himself. yet the more he saw you, the more he found himself wanting to be near you. He started making excuses to hang out with you, offering to help with homework or making you both paired up together for projects. He even found himself trying to impress you, showing off his intelligence in class or dropping hints about his latest achievements to you. Hopefully, you'll choose him instead of those countless of guys pining for you.

KAZUHA — who at first didn't know why he was feeling like this? Why did his heart tighten everytime he hears that you would be hanging out with your group of friends and he soon finds himself wanting to hang out with you everyday and trying to impress you. He tries to make himself available in case you want to hangout with him, how could he resist seeing you energetically planning on what to do after school with him and him alone?

HEIZOU — who doesn't even hide that he has a crush on you, doing the most embarrassing and dumbest things imaginable just so he can have you even glance at him. Afterall, he didn't get the title as the class clown and troublemaker for nothing so don't be surprised if he got himself in detention doing something reckless since his whole reason is so he can have your attention on him and him alone.

GA MING — who wonders why you don't seem to interact with him sure he may be popular but did that really scare you off? He was clueless at first but decided to find out more about you, asking some of his friends who were in the same class as you, subtly looking at your phone to find out more about your interests(and maybe steal a glance at your phone number) when he walks and even asking his friend group for your Instagram. Sure, he may be trying a little too hard going as far as to have the same common interest as you but if it gets you to notice him and talk to him, he'll gladly do it.

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cleo-fox · 7 months

Text

Daylight

Summary: Despite your best efforts, Sunday morning doesn’t go as planned…and you couldn’t be happier about it.

Pairings: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, shower sex, fingering, vaginal sex, soft sex, sex that causes you to be several hours late for work, Loki being a (respectful) horn dog.

Series: Overtime (I don't have a masterlist for this yet, but the first fic is here). A/N: This started out as a scene in Overtime that kind of took on a life of its own. You don't necessarily need to read Overtime in order to enjoy or understand this fic, but you'll have more context if you do. Anyway, it was fun revisiting these two idiots--I've got a few more ideas for them up my sleeve, so there will be more in this series at some point.

The sunlight wakes you the next morning.

It’s the same sunlight as always, but it looks different coming through Loki’s window and streaming across his bed. It looks better, you think, splashed across his sheets.

Or maybe it’s the addition of your hand clasped with his resting on those same sheets. Or perhaps it’s the sight of your clothes and his, discarded on the bedroom floor in a pool of sunlight, combined with the fact that you’re still wrapped in his arms. Maybe all of that is why it seems better.

That seems more likely.

You lie still for a moment, simply enjoying the feeling of his arms and the heat of his skin against your bare back. You are reasonably certain he’s asleep from the steady rhythm of his breath on your neck, but you’re not about to disturb the sleepy calm of the morning to confirm that.

The clock on his bedside table says it’s just after six. Before last night, you would have said that this was a reasonable time to get up—early enough to ensure that you’re in the office by eight, which would hopefully give you enough time to meet this evening’s deadline, but not so early that it makes you question your life and your choices.

But that was before. Now…well. You suddenly find that your priorities look very different from the comfort of Loki’s bed.

You decide that you didn’t really see the clock. Neither one of you thought to set an alarm last night. Sleeping in was inevitable. That’s not your fault. No harm, no foul.

You close your eyes and allow yourself to fall into a light doze, warmed by the sunlight and Loki’s embrace.

Sometime later, you’re woken by the soft brush of a kiss against your neck.

“Did you sleep well?” he murmurs against your neck.

“Yes, though I did have a bit of a late night,” you say. “Someone kept me up.”

“Really? That was rude of him.”

“Very.”

He’s noticeably—achingly—hard. His lips brush against your neck again. “Perhaps he might make it up to you?”

Your intention is to open your eyes, roll over, and allow yourself to be ravished. But in a development you can only describe as tragic, you happen to catch sight of the clock on his nightstand.

7:38 am.

“Shit,” you say. “It’s almost eight.”

Loki is predictably unconcerned about this. “We don’t have any official hours to keep,” he says, his hand skimming along your ribs and down the curve of your waist. “We have all day.”

“Yeah, but we’ve got a ton more to do,” you say, trying to ignore how good he is at kissing your neck or how his hand is drifting down your hip toward the aching pulse between your legs. “We really need every minute.”

“That is true,” he says solemnly. “Perhaps we ought shower together to save time.”

You can’t help but smile. “I kind of feel like you have another agenda.”

“I’d never,” he says.

“The raging hard on pressing against my ass would suggest otherwise.”

You can almost hear him smirk as he gives his hips a teasing little thrust against you. “I contain multitudes.”

You wiggle out of his embrace and slip out of bed. You intend to look back and give him a coquettish look and say something sharp and teasing, but instead, the sight of him takes your breath away. He leans back on his elbows, looking everything like the sort of lounging god you would see depicted in marble at the Parthenon, all chiseled, sharp muscles and clean lines. His cock stands fully erect and deliciously thick, flushed with wanting.

“I can’t help but notice that you didn’t reject the offer,” he says, seemingly fully aware of the path of your gaze. His hand drops to his cock and he strokes himself casually, which very nearly sends your sprinting back to bed.

“You’re right,” you say, trying to keep your cool as you throw him your most beguiling look. “So you should probably hurry up.”

You turn and start walking toward the master bathroom. You don’t need to look over your shoulder to know he’s following you, his gaze hungrily devouring every inch of skin, eyes dark with purpose.

You walk into the master bathroom and are immediately confronted by several flagrant violations of the residential handbook. The TVA is many things, but it is not the sort of place that deviates from set floor plans, nor is it the sort of place that deviates from those plans to install a rainfall shower and soaking tub—in marble, no less.

You think of the stark, vaguely institutional aesthetic in your own master bath and you can’t decide if you’re annoyed at his rule breaking or jealous that he could get away with it.

“I’m not even going to ask if you got approval for this setup because I know you didn’t,” you say as you reach in to the shower to turn on the tap.

“Do you think of anything other than that cursed personnel manual?” he asks as he comes up behind you, his arms snaking around your waist and his lips again finding your neck as he draws you to him.

“First of all, it’s not the personnel manual, it’s the residential handbook, which you specifically agreed to abide by when you signed off on your lease.”

He turns you around so you face him and draws you close, a wicked gleam in his eye, “Oh, I’m going to make you forget all about those ridiculous rules.”

“That’s a pretty tall order—oh.”

His hand is slipping between your legs, stroking your already slick folds.

“I think I’m quite capable of inspiring other passions,” he says, rolling his fingers in a broad circle over the hood of your clit

You loop your arms around his shoulders. You can already feel your knees starting to tremble, but you know he won’t let you fall.

“Bold claim,” you say, “I’m going to need more evidence.”

“Oh, you’re going to get a lot of evidence,” he says softly. He curls a finger inside of you, pressing his thumb against the hood of your clit. “You will have no doubts by the time I’m done presenting my argument. You will be weak-kneed with evidence.”

You shudder as he rocks his hand slowly. He’s touching you enough to stoke the flames of desire, making your hips rock helplessly toward his hand as you try to create that extra friction and pressure that you know will send you flying over the edge. But Loki is meticulous—perhaps even ruthless—about not giving in.

“Not yet,” he murmurs softly when your latest attempt is thwarted. “Slowly.”

Your pleas become louder and more frequent, but his answer remains the same: slowly. You whimper and beg, but he is resolute.

Steam has fogged up the mirrors and is curling around you when your orgasm finally begins to crest. You suddenly find yourself grateful for his pacing as the intensity builds to a level that makes your knees shake.

“That’s it,” he breathes as you tremble in his arms. “You can come for me now, lovely.”

Like magic, the coil inside you snaps at his command and you cry out as your cunt shudders around his slowly thrusting fingers. Your arms looped around his shoulders are the only thing keeping you standing.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss against your temple as you sag against him. “Beautiful.”

He gives you a moment to get your bearings before leading you into the shower. He sits down on the marble bench, spreading his thighs wide and pulling you into his lap so you straddle his hips. The spray of the water hits your back as he kisses you again, slow and hungry.

You love everything about this. The heat of the water on your back. The closeness. The way his thighs are spread wide. How his cock presses against your bare cunt. The noise he makes low in his throat when you start rubbing yourself against him.

“Need you,” he mumbles against your neck. His hands squeeze your hips and you reach between the two of you to line his cock up at your entrance.

It occurs to you that you could take the opportunity to tease him, to make him beg for you, but pretending that you have any control over your aching need for him is several degrees beyond impossible. So instead, you slowly ease yourself down onto his cock while he groans against your neck, dragging his lips down to the curve of your shoulder.

The feeling of him inside you is still so new that it feels just a little unreal. After all that wanting and yearning and thinking that he was too handsome, too divine, too out of reach to have, he’s suddenly yours and it’s absolutely dizzying.

You pause for a moment, eyes closed, savoring the feeling of unyielding fullness, of connection. Of him.

“All right?” he asks softly.

You open your eyes and his look of sweet concern makes your heart swell. “Yeah,” you say, a lazy, satisfied smile tugging at your lips. “I just—I needed a moment. You feel—” You pause for a moment, searching for the right words, sifting through the effusive and flowery and the things that are true but too early to say. “You just feel really good,” you say.

It sounds wildly inadequate, but he seems to understand, to hear all of the unsaid parts that you’re keeping close to your heart. He could turn away, say it’s too much too soon, that you haven’t even said what you are yet, much less committed to anything serious, but he doesn’t. Instead, he leans forward, drawing you into a slow kiss, his hands framing your face, tracing the curve of your cheek and jaw with the kind of reverence that makes you want to say everything you feel.

“You’re perfect.” He says it in between breaths, with such a disarming sincerity that you can’t bring yourself to try and deflect, to name a flaw or even make a joke.

Later, he will tell you that he was struggling with a similar battle, trying to reconcile how new this was with the depth of feeling that was already blossoming in his chest. He will tell you later that he couldn’t believe you were his, just as you couldn’t believe he was yours, that there was something about you that felt right in a way that made him feel like he knew even then.

But right now, he simply kisses you with a fervor that makes your toes curl and your hips start to move.

It’s only the second time that you’ve done this, but there’s a strange blend of both the new and the familiar. The shape and feel of his body pressed against yours is new, but the way that he moves, the way that he touches you is as though he’s loved you for centuries.

The rhythm you fall into is slow, despite the excuse that this shower was to save time. His hand slides down your stomach, his fingers finding your clit to add another layer of bliss to the feeling of his cock inside you. Despite your slow pace, your ascent rushes in fast and brilliant as a comet blazing through the night sky. Your back arches, almost as though you’re presenting yourself as an offering to him as you come undone in his arms. Loki watches you with a kind of breathless wonder, brow furrowing in pleasure, his lower lip caught between his teeth at the tight clench of your cunt around his cock.

Your legs are rubbery with pleasure, but you keep going because you need his release as much as your own. You need to feel him empty himself inside of you, to hear the low groan he makes as he unravels, to see the way his eyes flutter shut. You want crescent moon marks on your hips from where his hands gripped you too tightly in that final ascent, physical proof that you can make not just a god forget himself, but Loki specifically. Loki with all his masks and tricks and artful poise; Loki laid bare below you, free from all artifice and glibness, raw and real and just as he is. All the parts of him that make you think that down this path lies something wonderful (not that you’re ready to call it love. Yet).

But Loki is nothing if not predictably unpredictable and he seems determined to make you work before granting you that little glimpse at the heaven that is the god of mischief coming undone beneath you.

“Let me feel you come again,” he murmurs as soon as you catch your breath.

“Is once not enough?” you say, trying and failing to sound cool and calm, like you’re not completely wrecked for him.

“Hardly.” His eyes flash in a way that makes you shiver as he urges your hips into a faster rhythm. “I am not so easily satisfied when my need has been so great.”

You can feel the coil in your hips beginning to tighten again.

“I’ve burned for you for years, my love,” he says, his voice going a little shaky. “Would you deny water to a man dying of thirst?”

You shake your head, your words lost to the oncoming wave of your undoing.

“Then do not deny me your pleasure, I am desperate for you.” He’s panting, barely holding on to his composure. “Now come for me again, let me feel you.”

You are so far gone that it only takes a few more strokes to make you come undone and the first shudder of your climax takes Loki with you.

You savor his pleasure more than your own release, memorizing the sound he makes, the way his lips form a silent plea in the shape of your name until he slides a hand up your neck and pulls you down to kiss him.

His kiss is fierce and hungry at first, but it ebbs to something slower and sweeter as he empties himself into you. He sighs as you tangle your fingers in the wet tendrils of his hair.

It’s a long moment later when you finally break the kiss, resting your forehead against his.

“I don’t think we saved any time,” you say.

He doesn’t even open his eyes. “I cannot overemphasize how much I do not care about being late in these circumstances.”

You grin. “Not even a little?”

He kisses you sweetly on the mouth before opening his eyes, his lips curling into a slow and satisfied smile. “I would be late every day for the rest of my life for just a few seconds of that.”

His words spark something warm in your chest and you try to hide it with a wry look. “I’m not sure that you’re getting the better end of the deal.”

He kisses you softly. “You don’t know how good you feel.”

“You’re one to talk,” you murmur against his lips and he smiles as he deepens the kiss.

The warmth of his body pressed against yours and the feeling of him smiling as he kisses you is a kind of luxury you’ve never imagined. It takes you a while to untangle yourselves, but you can’t find it in yourself to move any faster.

The actual showering part of your shower is slow and unhurried and you find that Loki’s hands are equally gifted at these mundane tasks. His fingers have a knack for finding every stubborn knot in your neck and shoulders, which he explores leisurely under the pretext of washing your back. The press of his fingers unwinds the tension in your shoulders, loosening up muscles that have been too tense for too long.

“You are way too good at this,” you say.

“Just one of my many talents,” he says, dropping a kiss on your shoulder. “Though perhaps I ought to stop—I wouldn’t want to make you late.”

“I’m so relaxed I’m going to ignore that little bit of sass.”

He chuckles against your shoulder. “You’ll forgive me.”

“We’ll see.”

The sweet, almost chaste kisses he’s been pressing against your neck and shoulders are gradually growing slower, more insistent. When you feel the tip of his tongue draw a quick, teasing line on your neck, you know that you might be in trouble.

His hands slide to your waist, drawing you close enough that you can feel that he’s hard again.

“I’m sensing some ulterior motives,” you say.

“A bold accusation,” he mumbles against your neck, pressing himself more firmly against you.

“We can’t have sex again,” you laugh.

“Mmm, we could,” he says in between kisses. “There’s nothing stopping us from having sex again.”

“We are already running late—”

“I thought I was very clear about my feelings on timeliness in these circumstances.” He nips at your earlobe and you shiver. “And would you really deprive me of the utter bliss of coming undone inside you?”

“It’s more like rescheduling than depriving you of anything.”

“I’ve waited so long, darling.”

“We just had sex like…less than an hour ago,” you say through a laugh.

“Ah, but the days before that were so terribly long,” he says.

You turn to face him, thinking this will make things easier for you. This turns out to be a grave miscalculation because now you have to contend with the fire in his eyes and the twin flame that it summons low in your hips.

Fuck.

You are definitely going to have sex again.

His eyes glitter like he knows and he slowly walks you backwards until you’re pressed between him and the shower wall.

“You are absolutely incorrigible,” you say as he peppers your neck with slow, decadent kisses. “I can’t believe you talked me into this.”

“Funnily enough, I don’t think you’ll be complaining about my mouth in about thirty seconds.”

And with a wicked and hungry grin, he slowly sinks to his knees.

It’s 10:48am when you finally walk into the office.

Even though you are now several hours later than you intended and the stack of files is no less imposing, you feel nothing but a pleasant glow of happiness as you take your seat. Loki sits down in the chair next to you and this time, he sneaks his foot underneath your desk and hooks his ankle under yours.

He catches your eye and smiles. “I can be a little more obvious now.”

You put on your most exaggerated expression of mock seriousness. “Only a little. This is a workplace, after all.”

He adopts a similar expression and nods. “Of course. I imagine there will be paperwork as well.”

“There actually is a form we’ll need to file with HR,” you say.

Loki frowns. “Wait, you’re not being serious about that, are you?”

“Yep. We’ll need to file it by next Friday.”

He sighs and throws his hands up in the air. “Is there anything that this place hasn’t managed to weigh down with the burden of unnecessary bureaucracy?”

“I see we’re in a good mood this morning.” Mobius has arrived, cup of coffee in hand. He nods at Loki and looks at you. “How long has he been raging against the machine?”

“Not terribly long,” you say as Loki rolls his eyes.

“It’s not raging against anything,” he says. “I just fail to see the point of some of this organization’s operational practices.”

Mobius raises an eyebrow at you. “You told him he has to fill out a form, huh?”

“Got it in one,” you say as Loki scowls.

Mobius chuckles and takes a sip of coffee. “You should hear him during performance evaluation season. I get entire monologues. It’s like Hamlet meets HR.”

Loki’s scowl deepens and you have to bite the inside of your cheek in order not to laugh.

“It looks like you made good progress, though,” says Mobius, looking at your completed stacks of files. “I took a look at what you pulled earlier this morning and there’s some good stuff.”

“Oh, good,” you say, hoping he doesn’t think much of the fact that neither one of you was in the office earlier this morning. “What time do you think you’ll need the rest done?”

“Right, about that,” says Mobius. You steel yourself for bad news. “I took a look at what you pulled so far and I think I’ve got what I need.”

You blink at him. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah, you’re off the hook,” he says. “Go enjoy the rest of your weekend.”

You look at Loki, who looks just as pleasantly surprised as you feel.

“In fact, you can take the rest of the week off,” says Mobius. “Triple overtime, right? You earned the time.”

“This feels like a trick,” says Loki. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch,” says Mobius. “You did good work.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “However—”

“And there’s the catch,” says Loki.

“There’s no catch,” says Mobius. He gestures at you with his coffee cup. “I’m just going to need you both to turn in the relevant paperwork to HR by next Friday.”

Loki sighs, though you can tell he’s fighting a smile. “There’s absolutely no privacy here.”

Mobius raises his eyebrows. “You’re playing footsie under the desk. It’s not exactly rocket science.”

You look at Loki and shrug. “He’s got a point.”

“You’re taking his side?”

You roll your eyes and stand up. “Well, you can sulk about it if you’d like, but I’m going to go enjoy the rest of my weekend.” You share a sly, secret smile with Mobius. “I’ll see you next week, Mobius.”

It takes Loki approximately twenty seconds to catch up with you.

“And you say I’m incorrigible,” he says as he falls into step beside you.

You smile at him. “I think you’ll get over it.”

“I’ll consider it.” He catches your band, fingers twining with yours. “What are your plans for the rest of the week?”

“Hadn’t decided,” you say, biting back a smile. “Did you have any suggestions?”

“Well, I’d like to start by going back to bed.”

“To sleep?” you tease.

“Eventually.” He licks his lips. “And since our respective schedules have been cleared for the week, we’ll be able to take our time.”

The hunger in his eyes is still so new and intoxicating that you can’t help the shiver that works its way up your spine.

You give him a slow smile. “Lead the way.”

#loki smut #loki x reader smut #loki x reader #loki laufeyson smut #loki x female reader #loki x female reader smut #loki laufeyson #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #tva loki x reader #overtime series

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joelmillerisapunk · 7 months

Text

a sweet arrangement

sugardaddy!Joel Miller x f!reader

Masterlist ♡ Sugar Daddy Masterlist

Wordcount: 3,374

Summary: You sign up for a sugar daddy app. What's the worst that could happen?

Warnings: 18+, fingering, oral (both m&f receiving), light bondage, reader might have pullable hair (i dont rememeber if i took it out) quick mentions of slut, baby, sweet baby, sweetheart, darlin

Notes: tysm @saradika-graphics for the dividers. I was cheated on over the weekend, and I wrote this as a "I wish I could be here" instead of being sad." Just another rich!daddy fantasy

You've been feeling financially stretched lately, and after hearing about the concept of sugar daddies and sugar babies from a friend, you decided to give it a try. You sit on your bed and hesitantly create a profile on a popular app, describing yourself as a young, independent woman looking for a mutually beneficial arrangement. As you sit scrolling through, you can't help but feel a sigh of reluctance escape your lips. You never expected to find yourself on a sugar daddy dating app, but life has a way of surprising you sometimes.

After a few moments of looking around the site, a notification pops up. It's a message from a user named "Contractor_Guy."

Curiosity piques, and you open the message, hoping it's not some creepy come-on. To your surprise, it reads:

"Hey there. I don't usually do this sort of thing, but I figured it's worth a shot. My name's Joel. If you're interested in getting to know me, send me a message back."

Feeling intrigued, you reply:

"Hi Joel, I'm not sure what 'this sort of thing' is, but I'm curious now.”

The response comes quickly.

Contractor_Guy: "Haha, 'this sort of thing' is something I usually avoid. But hey, it's a new day, and who knows what it might bring?"

You: Hopefully luck! But seriously, what exactly are you avoiding?"

Contractor_Guy: "Haha, well that's a bit of a long story, darlin.”

You: "Oh, I don't mind a long story. I've got some time to kill. Besides, I find it intriguing that someone like you is on a sugar daddy app.”

Contractor_Guy: "Well, my last experience wasn't the best, and I'm just being cautious this time around.

But, here's the long version. I met a girl a few years back, and at first, things were great. We clicked, and the relationship was mutually beneficial. I was able to provide for her in a way she couldn't for herself, and in return, she was there for me when I needed emotional support. As time went on, she started to change. She became more demanding and less appreciative. It got to the point where she would expect extravagant gifts just for a simple text or phone call. I realized that she was only interested in my money and not in the relationship we'd built."

You: "I'm sorry to hear that. It's not easy to find someone who's genuine and appreciates what you have to offer."

Contractor_Guy: "Yeah, it was a tough lesson to learn, but I'm hoping to find someone different this time. Someone who appreciates the little things, too, not just the material things."

You: "I think that's a fair expectation. We all deserve to be appreciated for more than just our wallets. So, Joel, tell me more about yourself. What do you do for a living?"

Contractor_Guy: "I'm a contractor. I do mostly residential construction and home remodeling projects. What about you? What do you do when you're not scrolling through dating apps?”

You: "Lol, I'm usually at work. I'm a graphic designer, so I spend most of my days in front of a computer. It's not the most glamorous job, but I love what I do."

Contractor_Guy: "A graphic designer, huh? That's pretty impressive. I've always been more of a hands-on guy myself. But I must admit, there's something intriguing about a woman in the arts.”

You: "And who doesn't love a man who can wield a hammer and a chainsaw with equal ease?"

Contractor_Guy: "Oh, I'm definitely good with my hands darlin' ;). ”

You: "Maybe one day you'll show me just how good you are with your hands."

As the conversation continues to flow effortlessly, you both exchange numbers and agree to meet for a coffee date tomorrow. Before signing off, you send a playful message with a picture attached

You: "Well, I'm off to begin the countdown to our coffee date. I'll leave you with this little teaser. ;)"

Insert a picture of you posing confidently in a cute outfit, with a mischievous grin on your face.

Contractor_Guy: "Wow, that definitely has me counting down the hours! I can't wait to see you in person."

With that, you end the conversation eagerly anticipating your first in-person meeting with the intriguing contractor.

The two of you meet for the first time at a trendy coffee shop downtown, and you can immediately sense Joel's charm and confidence. You can tell he's done this a time or two. He offers to buy you a drink and pulls out the mattest black credit card you have ever seen to pay with. He guides you to a table in the back corner, and you both engage in light conversation, discussing your interests and goals. Joel is clearly intrigued by you, and you feel a spark of attraction towards him as well.

"So, tell me more about yourself," Joel says, his eyes locked on yours.

"Well, like I said on the app, I'm a freelance graphic designer," you reply, “It's not the most stable job, but I love what I do."

"I can imagine," Joel says, a hint of admiration in his voice. "I've always been a fan of the arts. But I'm sure you understand the struggles of making ends meet as a freelancer. That's why I'm interested in this arrangement."

"I do understand," you agree, your mind already contemplating the potential benefits of such an arrangement. "It would be nice to have some financial stability while still being able to pursue my passion."

"Exactly," Joel says, his tone firm but understanding. "And in return, I'd like you to be my companion when I need someone to spend time with. We can go on dates, attend social events, or just relax at home. I value your company, you're easy on the eyes and brain, and I believe we would make a great team."

"I think that sounds fair," you say, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "I'm looking for something similar - someone who understands my situation and is willing to help me out."

Joel offers to take you to his place for a glass of wine, and as he leads you to his car, the conversation shifts to the details of the arrangement.

"Now that we've established the terms," Joel says, his voice low and serious, "I want to make something clear. I'm going to support you financially in any way you could ever dream of or want, but there's one condition."

"What's that?" You ask, your curiosity piqued.

"I want access to you whenever I please, however I please," Joel says, his eyes meeting yours. "I want to be able to use you for my pleasure whenever I want. Are you comfortable with that?"

Your heart races as you consider his request. You know what he's asking for, and you're not sure if you're ready for that level of intimacy. But at the same time, you can't deny the excitement coursing through your veins.

"I need some time to think about it. This is a big decision."

"Of course," Joel replies, his tone understanding. "Take all the time you need. But remember, this is the condition of our arrangement."

As Joel drives you to his mansion, you can't help but feel a mixture of excitement and trepidation. This is unlike any arrangement you've ever been a part of, and you're not sure what to expect. As you follow Joel upstairs, your heart races in anticipation. He leads you into a large, dimly-lit room, its walls adorned with black velvet and soft, glowing lights. A large bed dominates the center of the room, surrounded by various toys and restraints.

"I want to show you what I mean when I say I want access to you whenever I please.” Joel says, his voice thick with desire.

Joel leads you over to the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. He takes a seat on the edge, patting the space beside him. "Come here, sweetheart," he says, his voice soft and inviting.

You hesitate for a moment, unsure of what to do. But the curiosity and excitement pulsing through you win out, and you find yourself sitting down next to him. Joel's hand reaches out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. "You're so beautiful, you know that?" he says, his gaze intense.

You feel your entire body get warm at the compliment, your heart racing faster than ever before. "Thank you," you murmur.

Joel's hand begins to trace a path down your arm, sending shivers coursing through your body. "I want to make you feel good, sweetheart," he says, his voice low and husky. "I want to give you pleasure like you've never experienced before."

Your mind is racing as Joel's hand continues to explore your body. You're not sure what to do, but you find yourself leaning into his touch, your body craving more.

"I want to show you something," Joel says, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He stands up and walks over to a large wooden chest at the foot of the bed. He opens it, revealing a variety of toys and restraints. Your heart races as you take in the sight. You've never seen anything like this before, and you're not sure what to make of it. Joel walks back over to you, a blindfold in his hand. "I want to show you how good it can feel to let go and trust someone," he says, his voice soft and soothing.

You hesitate for a moment but something about Joel's words and the look in his eyes makes you feel safe, and you find yourself nodding in agreement. He gently places the blindfold over your eyes, cocooning you in darkness. You can feel his hands on you, guiding you back onto the bed. You trust him, and you let yourself relax into the feeling of his touch.

Joel's hands continue to explore your body, tracing patterns and circles that send shivers of pleasure coursing through you. You can feel the bed shift as he leans over you, his breath hot against your ear. "I want to make you feel so good, sweetheart," he whispers, his voice barely above a whisper. Your breath hitches as his hands continue to wander.

Suddenly, you feel something soft and silky against your skin. It's a scarf, and Joel is using it to gently bind your wrists to the bedposts. You gasp at the feeling of being restrained, but the sensation is not unpleasant. Instead, it heightens your senses, making you more aware of every touch and caress.

Joel continues to explore your body, his hands moving lower and lower until they reach the waistband of your pants. He pauses for a moment, waiting for your consent. "May I?" he asks, his voice low and husky. You nod, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He slowly begins to slide your pants down your legs, his hands lingering on your skin as he goes. You can feel the heat of his touch, and you find yourself arching up towards him, wanting more. Finally, your pants are off, and Joel's hands are free to explore your body in earnest. He caresses your thighs, your hips, your stomach, each touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

You can feel yourself growing wet, your body responding to Joel's touch in ways you've never experienced before. You moan softly, your hips bucking up towards him. Joel takes the hint, his fingers finding their way to your wetness. He begins to explore you, his touch gentle but firm. You gasp at the sensation, your body quivering with pleasure. His fingers move in slow, deliberate circles that send shivers of pleasure coursing through your body. You find yourself moaning louder and louder, your hips bucking up towards him as you chase the feeling of release. Finally, you can't take it any longer. You cry out as the orgasm washes over you, your body trembling with pleasure. Joel continues to touch you, his fingers gentle as they bring you down from the peak of pleasure.

Slowly, your breathing returns to normal, and you become aware of your surroundings once again. The blindfold is still over your eyes, and you're still bound to the bed. But you feel safe and content, your body still humming with pleasure. He unties the blindfold, and you blink your eyes against the sudden brightness of the room. He's standing above you, a wicked smile on his face. "Did you like that, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice low and seductive.

"Yes sir," you get out with a hoarse voice.

Joel's gaze travels down your body, taking in the sight of you spread out on his bed, still bound to the bedposts. "Mmm, such a good girl already," he says, his voice full of satisfaction. "I have so much more I want to show you."

He walks over to the wooden chest at the foot of the bed and rummages through it, pulling out a variety of toys and restraints. Joel turns back to you, a pair of handcuffs in his hand. "May I?" he asks, his voice low and seductive.

“You may."

Your heart racies with excitement as Joel cuffs your hands above your head, replacing the soft, luxurious ribbon, and securing you back to the bedpost. You test the restraints, finding that they hold you firmly in place. Your heart is racing with excitement, your body tingling with anticipation. He walks back over to the chest and pulls out a vibrator. He turns it on, the buzzing noise filling the room. You watch as he approaches you. He traces the vibrator over your body, teasing you with each touch. You arch up towards him, wanting more. But Joel is in control, and he takes his time, drawing out the anticipation until you're nearly begging for release."Are you ready for more, darlin’?"

“Yes please,” your breath coming in short gasps.

"Good girl." He traces the vibrator lower, teasing your clit with each pass. You moan, your hips bucking up towards him. But he pulls the vibrator away just as you're about to come.

You whimper in frustration, but Joel just smiles. "Patience, baby, patience," he says.

He continues to tease you, bringing you to the brink of orgasm again and again, but never letting you fully come. You're writhing on the bed, your body begging for release when Joel leans down and whispers in your ear. "Do you trust me, sweetheart?"

You nod, your heart racing. "Yes, I do," you whisper.

Joel smiles, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He leans down and captures your lips in a passionate kiss. You moan, your hips bucking up towards him. You're ready for whatever comes next.

Joel breaks the kiss, his eyes locked on yours. "I'm going to take you to the edge, sweetheart," he says, his voice low and seductive. "And then I'm going to bring you back again. And again. And again. Until you can't take it anymore."

Joel's hand moves back to the vibrator, tracing it over your clit once again. This time, he doesn't stop. He continues to tease and pleasure you. Suddenly, Joel pulls the vibrator away once again. You whimper in frustration, but before you can protest, he's replaced it with his mouth. His tongue expertly teases your clit. His hands roam your body as he brings you to the brink of orgasm once again. This time, however, he doesn't stop. He continues to lick and suck at your clit, his fingers entering you and curling against your G-spot as he pushes you over the edge.

You cry out, your body shaking with pleasure as you come hard against his mouth. Joel doesn't stop, his tongue continuing to torture you as you ride out the waves of your orgasm. As you come down from your orgasm, you gasp for breath, your body still trembling with pleasure. Joel's gaze is intense as he watches you, his face flushed with arousal.

"That was so, fucking good," you manage to gasp out, your voice still hoarse from your orgasm.

Joel smiles, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'm glad you thought so," he says, his voice low and seductive. "But I think it's your turn now."

"My turn?" you ask, your eyes wide with curiosity.

"Yes," Joel says, his smile widening. "It's time for you to return the favor.”

You feel a pang of nerves flood your body. “But I'm still all tied up.”

Joel smirks, leaning in. He grabs the hollows of your cheeks, forcing you to look at him, “ I never said you needed to be untied, did I.”

You swallow hard, your mind racing with the implications of his words. Joel releases your cheeks, his gaze traveling down your body. "You're going to make me very happy tonight, sweetheart. Just remember - I want access to you whenever I please, however I please. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," you reply, your voice full of submission.

Joel's smile widens, and he reaches down to unfasten his pants. He steps out of them and his boxers, revealing a hard, thick, ready erection. He climbs onto the bed, his legs straddling your chest. "Now, I want you to take me into your mouth," he says, his voice firm and authoritative.

Your heart is racing as you obey. He brings it up to your lips, and your tongue darts out to lick the tip. You can taste the hint of salt and musk, and you find yourself growing aroused again. You open your mouth wide to accommodate his size. He tastes so good, so intense, and you can't get enough. You begin to move your head, your mouth sliding up and down his shaft. Joel gasps, his hips bucking up towards you.

Suddenly he grabs your hair and holds his cock to the hilt, filing up your entire throat, blocking your airway. You try to gasp for breath as Joel holds you down on his large throbbing cock but it's no use. Your head is swimming with pleasure and arousal, and you're not sure if you can take anymore. Just then Joel releases his grip on your hair, allowing you to breathe again. You take the opportunity to pull away, gasping for air. Joel smirks down at you. "Such a good little slut for daddy already," he says, his voice full of praise. "Daddy wants to see more. Show me how much you want me."

You nod, your heart racing with anticipation as Joel pulls away and undoes your restraints. When he's back on the bed, you take him back into your mouth, your hands roaming his beautiful, full thighs. You begin to suck and lick at his cock, your tongue exploring every inch of him. You can hear Joel growing more aroused, his breaths coming in short gasps.

You feel a hand on the back of your head, guiding you. Joel is thrusting into your mouth, his cock sliding in and out. You moan around him, your hands reaching up to cup his balls. He's tensing, his hips bucking harder with each thrust. Suddenly, he lets out the most primal groan you've ever heard, his cock swells in your mouth. He thrusts into you one more time before coming. You can feel his warm come filling your mouth, and you swallow it down eagerly. Joel groans, his hips stilling as he rides out his orgasm.

You pull away, gasping for air and Joel collapses onto his back, his chest rising and falling rapidly. You can see the satisfaction on his face, and you feel proud of yourself. You've never done anything like that before, and you're not sure how you feel about it. But there's a part of you that's excited, that wants to do it again.

You're both panting heavily, your mind still reeling from the intense experience you've just shared. Joel's gaze is locked on yours, his eyes full of admiration and desire. "You were amazing, sweetheart," he says, his voice a low rumble. "I can't wait to show you more." A wave of excitement washes over you as Joel reaches out and gently strokes your cheek, his fingers lingering against your skin. "I want to make this arrangement work, darlin," he says, his voice soft and earnest. "But I need to know that you're in this for the right reasons."

Your heart races as you consider his words. You know what he's asking, and you're not sure if you're ready for the level of intimacy and commitment this arrangement requires. But at the same time, you can't deny the excitement coursing through your veins, the thrill of being desired and pursued by someone like Joel. You nod, your heart racing with both excitement and trepidation. "I think I'm ready to accept your condition," you say, your voice low and hesitant. "But I need to know that you're in this for the right reasons, too."

Joel's eyes meet yours, his gaze intense and serious. "I promise you, I want nothing more than to care for and support you, both financially and emotionally," he says firmly. "And I expect the same companionship in return."

You take a deep breath, your mind racing with the implications of your decision. But there's a part of you that's eager to explore this new world, to find out what it means to be truly desired and cared for by someone like Joel.

"Okay," you finally say, your voice full of resolution. "I want to make this arrangement work too."

Joel's face breaks into a smile, his eyes filled with relief and joy. He pulls you into a warm embrace, his arms wrapping around you tightly. "Thank you, sweetheart," he whispers, his voice full of gratitude. "I'm going to make sure you never regret this decision."

---

Thanks for reading ❤️ let me know if you'd like more from these two

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