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nicksolemnlyswears · 5 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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hisxthighs · 7 months

Text

KINKTOBER, october 23 — jay, cockwarming

includes: jay x y/n, jay jongseong park, cockwarming, rough sex, jay choosing video games over you smh

—

you knew your boyfriend had self control, but you didn’t realize how much he actually had. you were currently on his cock, arms wrapped around his neck as you placed soft kisses on his neck. meanwhile, jay was playing his video game. with you on his lap, your walls devouring his cock, he was struggling to focus on his game. however, he was too good at showing that it wasn’t bothering him one bit. any time you’d go to move your hips, one of his hands would push you down. “stay there, baby,” he whispered, hoping nobody could hear him on his head set.

“but jay-” you began to whine but he covered your mouth with his hand, eyes widened to tell you that everyone could hear you through the headset. “shut up and stay still,” he mouthed to you. you sighed and nuzzled your face in his neck.

you believed that jay was addicted to his video games. always choosing to play over spending time with you — or that’s what it felt like to you. he promised you that he would watch a movie with you tonight and make you two dinner, but you got impatient and wanted him to hangout with you sooner — so you decided to tease him — make him want you. although none of it went according to plan, jay wouldn’t even let you leave his lap. this was paradise for your boyfriend… playing video games while you warm his cock up.

he had always wanted to try cock warming. to feel your warm, tight walls surround his cock, unable to move or anything. god he wanted to move. but he knew if he were to move, he’d leave his video game within seconds and let you win, which of course he wouldn’t want happening.

after about half hour of you sitting on his cock, pussy dripping down his thighs from how badly you wanted to move, jay couldn’t take it anymore — not with the way you were whining at any sort of movement whenever he’d move forward when the game would get too intense — he also hated how everyone in the voice chat could hear your perfect noises. jay finally ended the call, bucking his hips up to hit your most sensitive spot, hearing you let out a loud moan.

you quickly cover your mouth, thinking he was still in call, you could feel your face getting red.

jay grips his fingers on your waist, moving you up and down.

“j-jay, your mic-” you mumbled, eyes rolling back in pleasure as you finally got what you’ve been craving.

jay pulls his headset off, allowing himself to hear your moans more clearly. “i hung up,” he looks into your eyes for a split moment before hungrily moving in, his lips crashing onto yours as he moans into your mouth. “you’re actually such a tease,” jay says against your lips, sloppily pushing his tongue in your mouth.

“y-you’re the tease. making me wait half hour on your cock-” jay cuts you off by thrusting his cock in deeper. the chair was squeaking louder than both of you together. “fuuuck,” your boyfriend moans into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. he lifts you up, off his cock as he stands up. you whine at the feeling of him no longer in you. he carrie’s you to the bedroom and immediately throws you onto the bed, pulling his shirt off as you do the same and falling onto you, crashing his hard cock into your sopping cunt.

“jay!!” you almost scream, nails digging into his back as he fucks you the hardest he ever has.

his name is the only thing your mind knows what to say, walls tightening around his bare cock just as your stomach snaps, cumming around him. he’s grunting and moaning with every thrust and before you know it, he’s pulling his cock out and jerking it off, letting his seed spill all on your bare stomach.

as the two of you breathe heavily, jay sloppily kissing your neck leaving love bites, you close your eyes, “wanna sleep with it in me?”

#enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #jay smut #jay enhypen smut #jay jongseong park smut #jay park smut #enhypen jay #jay enhypen #jongseong smut #jongseong #smut #enhypen jungwon smut #kinktober #park sunghoon smut #enhypen #jungwon smut #park sunghoon

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moonhoures · 8 months

Text

Good To Me

🕷️ kinktober — day 22: overstimulation 🕸️

pairing: wonwoo (svt) + reader (afab/fem)

genre: non-idol!au, smut, fluff

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, explicit smut, shower sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, pet names (babe, baby), multiple orgasms

word count: ~1.3k

synopsis: date night ends with some overwhelming pleasure

posted: october 22, 2023

Date nights were a weekly occurrence in your relationship with Wonwoo, and you both cherished them, looking forward to them every time the new week began. This week, he had told you to dress up and be ready by the time he got home from work. So you did, all the while wondering what he had in mind for the night ahead of you.

He had came home shortly after 4 p.m, a small bouquet of your favorite flowers wrapped in cellophane with a ribbon around it. He greeted you with a kiss, but not before his eyes had raked over your frame with a loving glaze over them. His lips lingered on your lips, giving you a second and third kiss before finally letting you take the flowers in the kitchen to put them in water.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked once you returned to the foyer of your shared apartment.

When you replied with a ‘Yes’, he took your hand and led you out to his car where he held the door for you like he always did. He refused to tell you where he was taking you, but you could tell it was in the city based on where he was driving.

The destination ended up being the new clothing store you had been wanting to go to. The store was just too far out of the way of your normal route, and you hadn’t found time to go to it. So he figured he would treat you to some shopping before dinner, which was at your favorite date spot.

Once your date had come to a beautiful conclusion, and you arrived home, Wonwoo took your shopping bags from the backseat and carried them inside for you.

“Thank you for tonight, babe. That store was even nicer than my friends were telling me,” you told him, unlocking the front door for him. You let him walk in first, gesturing for him to leave the bags on the couch.

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” he replied earnestly, turning to you with his usual, cool smile. He pulled you in by the waist, giving you a kiss on your forehead, then your cheek, “Should we watch some TV? It’s still a little early.”

You picked up your phone to check the time, and it was only 7:30 p.m, “Hm, I’m not really in the mood for TV. Do you want to shower with me instead?”

Of course, your boyfriend didn’t turn down the offer, but you eventually started to regret your decision. Because not even five minutes into your shower, your boyfriend had your back up against the tiled wall, his fingers buried between your thighs. He towered over you with a satisfied grin on his lips as he watched you on the edge of cumming for the first time that night. Yes, the first. Because with Wonwoo, it was never just once. Once wasn’t good enough; it was the minimum.

“Come on, baby, I know you’re close. I can feel it,” he egged you on, “Just cum for me.”

You were already a piteous excuse of a person, letting out pathetic moans and whines as his thumb circled your clit and his middle and ring finger pumped into you with purpose. Your hands secured you by holding onto his back and arm, and he loved that every time he went deeper, your grip on him got tighter. The smile on his lips only curled more when your walls squeezed his fingers and convulsed around them, soaking them in your arousal. You were glad the water was lukewarm, because your body was already heating up.

“Just like that,” he kissed a line up your jaw and on your ear, that deep timbre of his making your insides tense, “Now give me another good one.”

Before you could protest, he was sinking to his knees, the water falling onto his lower back as he lifted your leg up onto his shoulder.

“Wonw-oh,” your words died in your throat. Your boyfriend’s left hand held onto the thigh that sat on his left shoulder while his right hand continued working in your cunt. His fingers powered through your first orgasm, and quickly aimed for your second one. Only this time, he added his mouth to the mix, kissing and sucking on your clit. And all you could do was stand there and take it, resorting to watching him. It was actually such a sight to see. His dark hair, wet and sticking to his forehead while the water behind him cascaded down his back and wide shoulders. His brown eyes clouded by lust as he stared up at you, knowing that eye contact made your knees weak (figuratively).

Not even a couple of minutes had passed, but it was already becoming too much. You had no time to recover from your first climax, so your body was tense as it began building up to a second one. The muscles in your legs tensed. Your hands gripped onto his shoulder and in his hair, wanting to tug him away to give you a moment to calm down. He could practically feel your inner conflict of wanting to chase your high or push him off. He pulled his mouth away from your throbbing core—which clenched around his fingers after he abandoned it—and looked up at you with a fake confused expression.

“What is it, baby?” he asked.

“It’s too much, I need . . . need a second,” you struggled to speak as the pace of his fingers failed to slow down. If anything, it felt like he sped them up.

“You want me to stop? Tell me to stop then.”

He knew you didn’t want him to stop. Well, you did. But also you didn’t. You didn’t really know what you wanted.

That familiar, cat-like smirk appeared on his lips as he brought his face back between your thighs. And a second later you felt his tongue on your clit again, making your tummy flip. You whined, fingers grasping desperately onto him, attempting to anchor yourself to him as you were moments away from cumming again.

Anyone would tell you that having sex in a shower was not easy, but you were lucky in some aspects. Your shower was way more spacious that most, and Wonwoo took your safety very seriously. He held onto you like his life depended on it, and he was always alert to your movements. Any wrong move could result in serious injury, and that was the last thing he wanted. So he braced his hands on your legs to keep you still as he thrusted his fingers up into you as quickly and deeply as he could. When he felt the gummy, spongey texture of your walls, he knew it wouldn’t be long.

“If you want to stop you need to tell me now,” he spoke with a mocking tone, pulling away from you only a little bit.

“No! Don’t stop,” you exclaimed, bucking your hips up in tandem with his fingers.

“No? But you said it was too much.”

“Wonwoo, please.”

“I know, baby, I know. Let it out.”

Just like that, you were cumming, the most carnal, primal noises pulling out of your throat. Your insides spasmed around his knuckles and soaked his digits in your creamy essence. Your thigh clenched, moving closer to his cheek. Your lower abdomen tensed as his tongue continued to massage your clit, sending your mind and nerves spiraling. Your hands were weakly attempting to push him away, but the water made your palms slip. You resorted to making pathetic whines and sad attempts at groans of his names. Finally, he pulled away, tongue darting out to lick his lips. You couldn’t believe you had come out of that as calmly as you did. You were also nervous knowing that you would have to go through it a few more times before Wonwoo would be satisfied.

— taglist #1

@jaylaxies @xiaoting999 @kookthief @zaddywilk @wonrangwoo @pedriswrld @ikykleeknowww @odisdad @abby-grace @jungwonloveer @pinklemonadeflav @celestialplatinum @luvkpopp @nlklstan @kisses4denji @jenos-eye-smiles @a-l-i-y-a @channiesprincess @bekah931215 @heerinnie @fairygirl18 @cinnikoi @im-ur-calico-cat @unlikelysublimenightmare @k-drizzle @iguanas-world

#wonwoo smut #jeon wonwoo smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #[🕷️] kinktober 23 #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo x reader #svt fanfic #svt imagines #svt scenarios #svt x reader #seventeen fanfic #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader

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spooky-wisp · 30 days

Text

"I had to talk to you."

Repost from other account

2.4k words

CW: Heavy flirtation, canon divergence (S4 end events didn't happen), College Student!Steve, Steve has shit eyesight

October 13th, 1989

Steve sighs, leaning back on the drivers side of his 1983 BMW. Burgundy paint starting to chip on the hood, the car becoming less appealing day by day. Girls passing by not even looking in his direction anymore. He was old news in Hawkins after people found out he had finally started at a college half an hour away in Fort Wayne. Just starting his life like everyone else did 4 years ago just wasn't appealing to most girls.

At least not Hawkins girls.

But at this point he didn't care. He was proud of himself for pulling his life together after all the bullshit he had been put through. With saving an entire town too many god damn times. Cutting his dad off when his parents divorced. Moving out to get a rented house with his best friend Robin. Just what he learned he needed over time.

Getting into a good school by himself with no help was just a cherry on top of the fuck you sundae he graciously served his past problems.

He was satisfied with what he had right now.

Dustin walks out of the new game shop in the newest strip mall to grace Hawkins. Steve looks up, pushing his Ray-Ban sunglasses onto his head.

"You made it out before, Robin. I'm surprised." Dustin glanced at the instrument shop a few doors down, then back to Steve. "You get what Eddie needed?"

"Mostly yeah. She's still getting her trumpet fixed?" Steve shrugs at Dustin's question and slides his sunglasses down in place again.

"She probably got distracted looking at something shiny and new. You know Robins crow brain sometimes." Dustin laughs, looking into his bag, shuffling a few things around inside.

Steve looked over at the liquor store at the end of the strip mall. Looking back at Dustin, he taps the top of the car. His head snapped up, eyes a bit surprised at the sudden noise.

"You want anything?" Steve asks, tilting his head back towards the store.

"Coke? If they got it." Dustin simply replied before getting in the back seat. Steve nods and walks to the liquor store.

The bell chimes over his head as he walks through the door. He takes in the warmth of the store and the radio playing over the speakers on the ceiling. Such a nice contrast to the crisp Autumn air outside.

He turns heading down an isle of assorted liquor bottles and bar accessories before finally stopping at the fridge. Humming along to the song over the radio, mumbling the lyrics to 'I wanna know what love is' absentmindedly.

Sliding his glasses down his nose, he squints at the selection. All the labels are blurry the farther he is, he steps forward rubbing his eyes and sure doesn't help with the florescent lighting blinding him from above.

God I need to get my eyes checked.

Opening the fridge, he grabs the 3 soft drinks and a 6-pack for later when he hears a metal scrapping and whoosh next to him. Followed by a muffled but panicked "Shit!"

Looking over, he sees the back of a squatting woman struggling with a metal shelf slipping out of one of the fridges.

Walking over, he quickly puts his things down and pushes the shelf back in. The metal shelf, cold against his warm skin as he reaches into the fridge, fixing the fasteners back into place.

An issue he's all too familiar with working at Family Video. The fridge racks always got loose and every time it happened he was always made to clean them up. He could only imagine the mess a bunch of glasses and beer would have made.

"Thank you so much!" The woman speaks as Steve stands up, slowly closing the door. Looking back, he finally sees your face. His lips slightly part as you continue talking, he can't hear a word you're saying right now.

All he can hear is the very oddly convenient Foreigner song playing over the store radio as he takes in every detail of your gorgeous face. From your shiny hair to your bright smile. The vibrant colored nail polish on your fingers you're waving as you talk. You're unfamiliar, he's never seen you before, but you're an absolute stunner of a woman.

Steve never thought of himself as a love at first sight kind of guy. But right now he was undoubtedly being proven wrong by the spark he was feeling, not to mention the nervous knot in his stomach.

"But really you're a life saver... Thank you." You stop talking, looking at him. Your face falls as he perks up, realizing he's just been staring like a complete idiot this entire time.

"You're welcome!" He spoke, choking almost over how inappropriately loud he was for a second. Feeling the effect of not talking to women for a while really hit him. You look down at his soon-to-be purchases.

"Full Sail Amber. Good beer." You comment, making him look at the floor and nod.

Crouching down, he grabs his things and stands cracking his head on one of the fridge door handles. His sunglasses fell off his face and onto the floor. He stands up wedging his soft drink between his side and arm. Rubbing his head with a hiss.

"You okay?" You ask with a slight chuckle. Bending down, you grab the sunglasses, Steve moves his hand, grabbing the bottom of the door handle to shield your head from injury.

"Yeah, thanks." Before he gets to put his hand out to take his Ray-Bans back, you slide them on his head with a soft smile.

God she's so fucking pretty.

"You're welcome. And thanks again for... Saving me from paying for a full shelf of beer." She turned down the isle to another part of the store.

Part of Steve wants to follow you and try chatting you up, but the slight embarrassment of hurting his head just keeps him from doing so.

He turns, goes to the front of the store and makes his purchases. Heading outside, he walks to his car, finally seeing Robin in her usual spot, the passenger seat. Opening the driver's door, he slips in.

"There you are!" Robin looked at him, her trumpet case in-between her legs on the floor of the car.

"What's with the face?" Dustin asks, Steve looking at him in the rearview, glaring.

"Shut up Henderson." He hands them their sodas, moving to close his car door when he hears the bell from the liquor store chime.

Out you walk, starting across the parking lot to a top-down red 86' Volkswagen Cabriolet. Steve freezes, staring again. He really can't help but stare.

"Oooh." Robin and Dustin both taunt him, making him sigh. He needs more friends, fewer annoying friends.

"She's pretty." Robin says looking at Dustin.

"Too pretty to talk to, apparently." Dustin adds, laughing as he looks back at Steve.

"I talked to her in the store." Dustin raised his eyebrows, pushing his baseball cap up a bit.

"You asked her out?"

"No." Steve watches you load your bag into the back seat and start pulling the top up on your car.

"Not too late!" Robin smiled, taking a sip of her drink. Dustin looked at her.

"He's not gonna do it."

"No, he's gonna do it."

Steve feels like he has a devil and an angel bickering on his shoulders right now. His foot meets the new asphalt of the parking lot as you open your driver's door.

He's quickly out of the driver's seat.

"Holy shit he's doing it." Dustin comments as he shuts the door on them.

He stops at the bumper of his car, hearing your car engine click over. Music pours out of your open windows before you turn it down quickly.

The universe is screaming at him to talk to you when he starts hearing that familiar Tears for Fears song, 'Head Over Heels'.

Please don't pull away, please don't pull away.

He nearly sprints across the parking lot out of fear of missing his chance. Upon reaching the car, he knocks on the back window, pulling you from looking for something in the console.

"Hi..." He says awkwardly, approaching the window. Leaning on the door, he smiles as you smile back.

"Hi. You need something?" He gets so agitated that you smirk up at him.

'Why'd you have to be so God damn pretty?'

"Sorry if this is weird, but I had to talk to you." He started, finally being able to say something. Your eyes go half shut with a soft nod.

"Talk to me?" He nods, clenching the door frame for a second. "Go ahead then. Talk."

His eyes go wide in surprise at your sudden confidence. Steve stammered for a second.

"Uh... At the risk of sounding crazy or desperate... You're probably the most beautiful girl I've ever seen in my life." You can feel your body warm up as he gives the most genuine smile you've seen on a man in a while.

"Mmhm, go on."

"Are you by chance single? Or like... Are you even attracted to men at all?" He asks, sheepishly smiling.

"Yes, and yes." Your smirk slowly turns into a grin as he squats to eye level now, feeling a bit more confident after your answer.

"I'm Steve, by the way. Steve Harrington." He smiles again hearing you reply with your name. "Are you new to Hawkins?"

"I am actually. I just moved here from the city and needed to stay nearby for school."

"Where are you going?"

"Trine University." His eyes go wide, the same school he goes to. What are the odds?

"Really? I actually go there too. Education major." You look him up and down. You never pegged him for the teacher type.

"Software Engineering major."

"So you're smart and gorgeous. Good to know." He smirks, finally feeling like himself when talking as your flush finally becomes noticeable. "You like movies?"

"What kind of psychopath doesn't like movies?" He laughs at your response, leaning in closer to the window.

"Lemme be more specific. The new Halloween 5 movie came out today. You interested in seeing it? Maybe with me tonight at the drive-in theater in Lafayette. We can have dinner after. All my treat, of course." He can see the sparkle in your eyes, that spark he felt looking at you before is still lingering around him.

"What's in it for me?" You playfully ask. He cocks his head to the side, leaning it on his arm for a second.

"A fun night out with a gentleman, I promise I'm fun." You chuckle, rolling your eyes, he knows you want to say yes. "Please?"

He'd never said please before when asking a girl out. It didn't feel embarrassing like he thought it would. You turn your attention back to the console looking for something.

Pulling out a napkin and pen, you quickly write down your number and address. Turning back, you hold it out to him as he takes it.

"I'm free at 8. And dress nicely. You're taking me somewhere decent after the movie."

"I'll take you to the most expensive restaurant I can find if that's what you want. I don't care. As long as I get to see you again." You laugh at his bluntness, it's like music to his ears.

"That won't be necessary. I don't need to be spoiled."

"What if I want to spoil you?" That caught you off guard as you didn't respond right away. He let a soft breath escape his mouth. "You like roses?"

"White roses." You reply, he nods, standing up again and folding the napkin, storing it in his back jean pocket for safe keeping.

"I'll be sure to remember that." You two just stare at each other in silence for a minute. No man's ever looked at you like Steve has right now, it makes your heart race from nervousness.

"I'll see you at 8 o'clock then." You look past him for a moment and back to him. "Tell your friends I said hello since they like to stare so much."

Raising an eyebrow, Steve turned his head. He sees Robin poking her head over the roof of the car and Dustin sitting on the rolled down window frame. They quickly hurry back into the car, noticing they've been caught. He should be embarrassed, but he fully expects their behavior from being friends for so long.

"Ignore them." Steve says, sighing as he looks back at you. "I'll see you at 8."

He turned away towards his car, trying to stay as confident as he was before turning his back. Reaching his car, he pops the door open, clutching it for dear life as he silently collects himself. Robin poked her head across the driver's seat to look up at him.

"You good dude?" She asks, concerned but also excited as he just nods.

You pull out of your parking spot, stopping behind his car and honk once to get his attention. Dustin pops his head out the back window as Robin looks out her open door. Steves head snaps up at you as you lean on your window frame, chin on fist with the most shit eating grin on your face.

"See you at 8 sexy~" You called to him. And then you have the balls to blow him a kiss before peeling out of the parking lot.

Steve silently gets in the car. Robin shuts her door as Steve does his. Dustin sits forward looking at Steve, who's just gripping his steering wheel, the adrenaline starting to wear off.

"Dude, she's so into you, into you!" Dustin breaks the silence as Robin nods.

"And I'd say it's the same for Harrington here." Robin grins as a massive smile spreads across Steve's face.

He starts excitedly thrashing frontwards and backwards. Enough to shake the car and look like he's about to rip the steering wheel from it's column. He lets out an excited yell, causing his two friends to laugh at him.

He let out a long breath, looking at them.

"She says hi by the way."

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington #stranger things x reader

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starsainzjr · 4 months

Text

Baker's Dozen

Pairing: Toto Wolff x baker!reader Faceclaim: None Requested: yes no

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mercedesamgf1 Silverstone

Liked by yourusername, lewishamilton, georgerussell63 and 509,074 others

mercedesamgf1 Always a pleasant day when the real boss comes to visit! Thank you for the sweet treats, @/yourusername and @/brackleybakery!

View all 13,927 comments

yourusername My favorite clients! Thank you for letting me be the good luck charm!

lewishamilton I have never, nor will ever, have a better vegan cake than yours

yourusername It's only that good because you were my taste tester georgerussell63 It was vegan????? yourusername You're lucky you're good at driving carmenmundt And pretty georgerussell63 Is all I'm good for my looks? carmenmundt 🤷‍♀️

wolffie YN is the true queen of Mercedes-AMG PETRONAS F1 Team

forzaformula YN is the queen of the grid, let's be real without ourselves here

l.h.eight She makes them accommodating for Lewis I can't do this that's adorable

totos92 I am going to miss YN and Lewis content so bad

yourusername Silverstone

Liked by lewishamilton, mercedesamgf1, georgerussell63 and 30,846 others

yourusername It's rare that I get out of the kitchen but when I do it's to celebrate with my favorite people. And annoy my husband while he's trying to work

View all 3,147 comments

mercedesamgf1 If we could hire you as our onsite baker we would

yourusername I do not doubt it for a single second

georgerussell63 What, I don't get a spot in the post?

yourusername You hid every time I had my phone out carmenmundt It's true I watched you dive behind a pile of tyres yourusername See? I have witnesses georgerussell63 Fine

lewishamilton I didn't even see you take that

yourusername I'm sneaky

l.h.eight He looks so happy 😭

totos92 Queen YN strikes again this weekend

wolffie YN and Toto are actually goals I cannot be convinced otherwise

brackleybakery Brackley, England

Liked by yourusername, carmenmundt, georgerussell63 and 2,792 others

brackleybakery We are pleased to announce that Brackley Bakery will be opening a second location in London!

Doors will open on 15th October 2024. We look forward to seeing everyone on opening day!

yourusername Brackley Bakery

Liked by carmenmundt, georgerussell63, mercedesamgf1 and 30,927 others

yourusername Trying out some new recipes for the second location! Featuring Toto's reaction when ten boxes of cookies showed up at his office captured by @/georgerussell63 thank you for my new blackmail picture

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georgerussell63 Anything for the Queen 🫡

yourusername 🫡 carmenmundt As if you didn't benefit greatly from it

mercedesamgf1 We will be your taste testers any time you need us

lewishamilton Thank you for the vegan box

yourusername I hope you got those ones to yourself lewishamilton @/georgerussell63 tried to steal a few georgerussell63 I did not! I realized they were vegan and promptly put them back down

l.h.eight What I wouldn't give to have ten boxes of cookies made by YN

wolffie Party at Brackley Bakery to get some of these cookies who's in

mercedesamgf1 London, England

Liked by georgerussell63, lewishamilton, yourusername and 687,055 others

mercedesamgf1 The boys are on the way to support YN Wolff and the opening of the new @/brackleybakery location! So proud of our Queen on this special day!

View all 20,763 comments

yourusername So beyond grateful for the support today! Thank you boys, thank you team!

lewishamilton Particularly excited for the vegan section

georgerussell63 Tell our physios not to look

carmenmundt You better be bringing me back some treats I swear to God georgerussell63 I will bring you back one of everything

l.h.eight I cannot believe we only have like two months left of this content

wolffie No literally it causes me physical pain that we'll be seeing Lewis in red next year. It doesn't feel right

totos92 Crying for the YN and Toto content we're going to get today

yourusername Brackley Bakery

Liked by carmenmundt, georgerussell63, lewishamilton and 44,873 others

yourusername This has truly been one of the best days of my life. Thank you to everyone who has helped me in opening this second location of @/brackleybakery. Including @/mercedesamgf1 and both @/lewishamilton and @/georgerussell63. And last but not least, my wonderful loving husband. I give him a lot of shit on here, but he truly is my favorite person on the planet and I could not have done any of this without him. I love you, Schat.

Comments on this post have been limited

mercedesamgf1 Mercedes family has expanded! So so proud of you!

lewishamilton You deserve all the success that has come to you!

georgerussell63 Best croissants in the city tbh

yourusername High praise, high praise. Only higher if it were coming from Pierre pierregasly No no, he's right. They are

carmenmundt You are the best! So so many good things coming your way!

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All photos from Pinterest, Instagram, or Google Images

#f1 fanfic #f1 social media au #f1 x reader #f1 x you #social media au #toto wolff social media au #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff x you #toto wolff fanfic #toto wolff

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spencereidluver · 6 months

Text

H is for Hold My Hand

summary: You take a cocky, halloween loving Spencer to a haunted house for his first time. He underestimates how scary it actually is going to be, and ends up being taught a very valuable lesson.

word count: 1.1k

warnings: details of a haunted house. nothing bad though

Spencer Reid was a big Halloween fan. He loved dressing up and going to haunted houses and eating candy. He was a kid at heart, maybe because he never truly had a childhood.

This year, you decided to take him to a haunted house on the outside of town. It was an old abandoned house that had been boarded up and condemned for years. A few years back, a family bought it and renovated it, turning it into a movie style horror building. It was one of the top spots in the entirety of Quantico during the month of October.

You decided to take your horror-loving boyfriend there as not only a late birthday gift, but also as a way to celebrate halloween. Because let's be honest, two mid-twenty year olds trick or treating isn’t exactly socially acceptable. After going out for a semi-nice dinner, you and Spencer drove 17 miles east to visit the haunted house.

“You know, I’ve never actually been to a haunted house,” Spencer said to you. His eyes were focused on the road as he made gentle movements of the steering wheel with his left hand. His right hand rested on the midsection of your thigh, gripping ever so slightly.

“Really?” You said. You ran your fingers over his, following the bumps of his knuckles.

“Nope. I’ve always wanted to go but never had anyone to go with.”

“Well, now you do.” He smiled, turning his head and giving you a quick peck on the lips. It took Spencer a few weeks to get used to kissing you. For a while, he would ask every time. Last week, the two of you went to the theater on a date. As this was a silent audience, he didn’t want to interrupt. About half way through the show, you felt the buzz of your phone. “Can I kiss you?” a text from Spencer read. You couldn’t help but giggle out loud, which got you a few shushes. You didn’t mind too much, leaning over and giving him a big kiss.

Kissing Spencer was something straight out of a romance novel. He had this certain way about him, he was always so passionate. The way his lips moved perfectly in sync with yours was something unpredictable. You always imagined him being a good kisser, with practice of course, but he’d clearly done research.

Spencer pulled into the parking lot of the destination. The owners of the house tore down the shed in the back to pave an area. It’s almost as if they know they’d be a city-wide success.

It was still slightly light outside, the sun having yet to set. You wanted to wait until dark to go inside. You wanted Spencer’s first haunted house experience to be memorable. Of course, anything with him was memorable, however, you wanted to make this extra special for him. After all, Halloween was sort of his thing, and you were sort of his girl-thing.

You grab Spencer’s hand and turn to look at him. “Hey,” you say, ensuring to keep your voice calm and steady, “I’m not saying you will, but if you do happen to get too scared, we can leave.”

“Y/n, I’m sure I’ll be fine,” he says. “I work for the damn FBI.”

“I know Spence, but this is different.” “Yeah. It’s fake.”

He really didn’t know what he was getting into.

“Yeah, it’s fake, but it almost makes it more scary. The people here can touch you, and it’s loud, and basically it’s all the stuff you hate grouped into one thing that you somehow love.”

“If it makes you feel better, I’ll tell you if I’m scared. But I’ll be fine, y/n.”

He was completely clueless. For one, you were going to prove him wrong. You just knew it. The two of you exit the car, meeting in the front and interlocking hands. Spencer rubs his thumb on the back of your palm and swings your arm back and forward with your steps.

As you approached the steps to the house, Spencer’s hand began sweating. Yeah, he was nervous, but he’d never ever admit it. He liked to seem strong in front of you, though he’d be the first one to cry if he stepped on a bug. There was something so innocent about him. He just, he was different.

_____

The line to get in was long, but it moved fast. The entryway to the house was filled with those fake spiderwebs. Those always made Spencer sneeze. The majority of your time in there was spent with Spencer’s arm over his mouth and you trying to convince the people ahead of you he wasn’t sick.

As you approached the entrance to the basement- where the haunted house started- Spencer began to get giddy. He was so excited, like a kid in a candy store. Except he was a Spencer in a scary house that he was allergic to.

You enter the doorway to the steps that lead to the basement. Spencer trails behind you, walking a little slowly and paying careful attention to each spooky detail on the wall. He held a loose grip on your hand and let you lead him down the stairs.

As you enter the actual attraction his grip tightens significantly. There was a coffin slightly ajar that had fake blood dripping out from the bottom. A plastic severed hand lay at the gape of the door. Spencer inched closer to you and hid his face in your hair. You silently laughed to yourself and continued walking forward.

As you continued through the basement, there was lots of fake blood and red stained sheets covering walls and pieces of furniture. They did a good job of creepifying this place. There was a fog machine plugged in somewhere, and from out of the fog popped a man draped head to toe in blood stained clothing. He jumped out in front of you and Spencer, screaming into your faces. He then ran back into the fog, knocking over a stack of ceramic plates causing a loud crash. Spencer jumped. Literally, jumped. He pressed his body into yours, attempting to hide behind you. You turn around to look at him.

“You sure you can handle this, Spence?” You ask him. “We can leave if you want to.”

“No, I’m fine. Can you just hold my hand?” He answers, looking into your eyes, almost as if he was too scared to grab your hand himself. You smile at him, taking his hand and dragging him to the next room and through the rest of the basement.

next chapter: I is for "I Knew It!"

a/n: hey guyyys sorry it's been a bit since the last chapter, i've been working a lot and had finals. i really hope i'm able to get back on the grind, but no promises. i hope you all are having a good holiday season! also, i would just like to say that chapter M is a christmas themed story, however it is non secular and celebrated for gifts with the team, not the birth of the christian god. i want to try to make all my stories inclusive to whomever and be able to read across all races and religions. have a wonderful night :)

taglist: @universallyblizzardlove @ms-ks-world @justlivinginadaydream @dij-ology @lotus-ignis @sammy-4103 @ktssstuff

@ada--44 @moongirl27 @monfleurr @shycreationdreamland @cultish-corner @ariianelle @iiheartbowie

@spencerreidismybitch @traderjoesmints @ivyflowers13 @hades-disappointment-child @aceofspades190 @taygrls @hookergutss

@random-3455 @nmw-am @bookworm124 @hizzielover @jem08 @cherrybowbabby @theofficialfunk

@hookergutss @skylions-den @smalltownbeautyqueen @spencereidapologist @lunajay33 @novaeatsworld @pleasantwitchgarden

#spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x bau!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader

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maximotts · 8 months

Text

☽ 𝖕𝖑𝖆𝖞𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖌𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖙𝖘 ☾

☾ 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖐𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑: private hire!WandaNat

So @nats-firefly and I discussed this idea way before October, but brought it up again when I mentioned wanting to do a ph!WandaNat thing and now.. here we are.. filth amongst sleepy gays

private hire AU. kinktober masterlist. 18+ only, minors dni. you don’t need to add community labels, I’ve put adequate warnings below.

wc: 4.5k. cw: smut that starts out fluffy, but Wanda gets irritated. kinda cuddly sex. groping. fingering. punishments/attention denial. humiliation/degradation in the form of being babied. brief oral. overstim. typical Nat annoying Wanda. bratty reader bc people are always asking to see what would happen if you pushed Wanda's limits.

No outside clothes on the bed.

One of Wanda’s few house rules and generally easy to follow… until you were exhausted and she was snapping her fingers at you before you could take a second step towards her mattress.

Typically if you were too tired to seek out pajamas you’d suck it up and fall into your own bed, passing out until you gained energy to sort yourself out in the morning, but tonight was different. Your shift was long and felt even longer, filled with coworker mishaps and annoying customers that left you checking your watch every few minutes towards the end of the night. All you dreamt of on the ride home was Wanda and her warm bed, knowing she’d most likely be up despite the late hour.

She had the tendency to worry; no matter how even-tempered she appeared, Wanda stayed up as late as she could for Natasha, and now you as well, to come home to her. You’d headed out earlier than your normal shifts, just after midnight, and with your boss always being notified the moment you left work, there was no doubt Wanda would be wide awake.

As expected, you found Wanda in her bedroom, nose deep in a book. She looked so happy to see you, you thought maybe you could skirt by her standards just this once-

“Don’t you dare get those dirty clothes anywhere near my new comforter.”

“Wandaaaaa…” You groaned like a child, halfway to stamping your foot if you didn’t know that’d get you kicked out instantly. “I’m exhausted! It won’t ruin anything just once.”

But no amount of puppy dog pouts could make Wanda budge; the woman was so stubborn for the smallest things. You’d seen Natasha tease her for it, and even then, she stood firm; apparently there was a time when Wanda didn’t care, but once she started buying stuff of her own, she was intent on keeping it in order. “Not a chance. I can see at least three different cocktails spilled on your shirt! Get rid of the clothes or say goodnight and go to your bed.”

“So unfair…” The wardrobe across the room felt like too far of a journey, but you’d looked forward to the warmth of Wanda too much to deny yourself now. Before you knew it, you’d begun shedding your clothes, kicking them away into a lazy pile on the floor and wandering back over to your goal.

Unexpected as it was, the sight of you tiredly stripping down amused Wanda and she didn’t stop you from sliding into bed, chuckling at your silly display of wiggling around until you successfully crawled on top of her fully clothed form. “Well aren’t you clever? Always trying to find yourself a loophole.”

“I like to think that’s what you love me for.” Tired arms wrapped around Wanda’s middle, resting your chin on her chest to gaze up at the older woman. Sleeping naked wasn’t your plan, but the act wasn’t unfamiliar, particularly in this room. Most of the time, though you got into bed wearing some kind of sleepwear, either Wanda or Natasha found a reason to take them off, anything from claiming to want a simple look to being straightforward in their desire to stake their obvious claim on you.

“I love you for a great many things, little one.” She let her book gently bop the top of your head before setting it aside on the nightstand, happy to give you her full attention. Spending the day alone wasn’t awful, but she missed you and Nat terribly, always preferring to be with at least one of you when she fell asleep.

The two of you settled into an easy embrace, Wanda drawing patterns over your bare back as you cuddled against her soft silken pajamas. Even back in silence like she’d been before your arrival, Wanda felt different, lighter, knowing she could hold you safe and her wife was on her way too. “How was your night? I got updates about some out of line people… I hope no one gave you too hard of a time.”

You shook your head, your frustrations melting away now that you were snuggled up to Wanda. It all seemed so far away while you were laid safe in your bosses’ cozy bedroom. “Nothing terrible, just felt like it lasted forever. It’s the Halloween crowd madness starting up, I think…”

The brunette nodded and listened as you went through details, throwing in a comment or two when needed; engaged even as her hands began wandering. She didn’t realize what she was doing at first, smoothing over the indulgent feel of your delicate skin. You were always just so pliant and willing; honestly, she decided you deserved a reward for following her rules with the last bits of your energy. Wanda loved knowing you’d chosen her over sleeping across the hall; it was hard to stay firm when she was also tired of sitting by herself, but if she gave in once, she’d never hear the end of it.

It started out innocent enough that you didn’t question her, overexerted muscles enjoying the gentle massage of your ass and thighs. By the time Wanda pushed your hips up to make room for her hand, you’d been pacified into a calm state of security all you offered was a pleased hum when she stroked over your mound. “You’ve done so much today. It’s about time you let me take care of you now.”

“Mhm..” She drew you in for a kiss, fluffy and sweet, mindful of your exhaustion. Wanda was always cautious of your state of mind, her considerate coddling making it easy for her to know exactly what you needed. If you needed her to take away all memories of her bad night, who was she to deny you?

Annoying as it’d been to be stopped on your way to bed, getting out of your work clothes did feel better and now you’d reap the benefits of choosing Wanda. Her touch was slow, sliding over center more to slowly work you up rather than to tease, like easing into a warm bath. “Thank you, mommy.”

“Of course, baby. You earned it for how hard you worked.” Her continued praise left you hiding your giggles in her chest, a dumb smile stamped on your features as Wanda dipped her first finger past your entrance. Rarely was Wanda this affectionate with you during sex, but she’d have to remember to do so more often, if only for how cute you looked right now. “I think someone likes being told they did a good job.”

“Maybe a little?” Your love of her acknowledgement was well known, there was no use denying it, but your sleepiness put you in a sillier mood— one that in turn rendered you more playful.

Oddly enough tonight, Wanda also happened to be relaxed enough to feed into it. “Something tells me it’s more than a little.” She fingered you open steadily, no rush to her movements, content to keep her mission slow for the time being. “If how desperately you’re squeezing my finger is any clue, you like it a lot…”

You mumbled some noncommittal response, squeaking as Wanda pushed further. It was way too little, but you were unwilling to speed up whatever the two of you had fallen into, much more interested in letting Wanda do what she pleased and seeing where it went. “Fine, I do like it when you tell me you like the work I do..”

“Good girl!” This time when she kissed you, she tugged your lip between her teeth, sucking at it until the red matched the flush of your cheeks. She was so happy to have someone who caught on quickly and so easily accepted doing things her way; Natasha always put up a fight, you were a lovely change of pace. “What else would you like? Another finger?”

“Yes! Yes please!” Pretending not to be interested in that suggestion would only hurt you, the much desired stretch of her long digits too tantalizing to pass up. Low on willpower, you easily went docile, letting Wanda’s care drive away the day’s anxieties.

You wiggled happily as her second finger joined the first, legs spreading as far as you could get them. Maybe you were being terribly obvious, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when this was exactly what you’d longed to come home and experience. “I still would’ve made you take off your clothes, but if you needed this, you could’ve asked.”

Wanda thrusted into you harder now, bottoming out each time and like clockwork your moans came in tandem. She was so deep, you already felt so full, but still your hips rocked into her hand, unabashed in trying to find the perfect angle. “Wanted you all night.. To have you hold me and make me feel good.”

It was true; falling into bed naked would almost always lead to something like this, but the how was forever a fun surprise. Wanda misjudged your ability to plot this out, but wouldn’t apologize for her predictable handsy nature; what fun was having a girlfriend if she couldn’t keep her hands on you whenever she pleased?

“And you didn’t feel like asking so you figured you’d wait for me?” Wanda’s fingers curled and you nodded frantically, both answering her question and encouraging her to keep going. She did it again and again, letting her fingers stay put while your desperation grew; Wanda wasn’t particularly bothered by your little con, but she’d hate to let you fully get over on her.

Free hand traveling from your backside to your chin, Wanda grabbed your face and tapped your temple, forcing your attention. “Look at me if you’re going to properly own up to your trickery.”

Meeting Wanda’s gaze was nearly impossible with how turned on you were, her sharp green eyes against her soft, makeup free face was just so.. beautiful— and you’re hopeless with pretty women. “I’m sorry, mommy. Can I still cum?”

“You’re bold enough to think you were ever allowed without asking?” Once in a while Wanda feared Natasha was right: she bent too easily whenever it came to you. Judging as her voice may sound, Wanda wouldn’t have thought twice about letting you carry on. With how distracted she’d become with your darling behavior, the biggest reprimand would’ve been a pat on the back before letting you fall asleep on her chest as if she’d never set a single rule for you.

Wanda hated admitting Nat was right. “Don’t tell me you’re too tired to remember how to behave.”

“No! No, I’m not, please!” Wanda might’ve been in bed before you’d arrived, but she was far from asleep and while your version of playful was sweet, hers could easily be brash. She’d discovered your plan, fine, but you hadn’t planned for Wanda feeling anything but surprised. If she wanted to, your girlfriend would torment you for hours. Enduring any kind of punishment tonight would be torturous in your already exhausted state. “I wasn’t, I promise!”

“I know, baby, I know,” she cooed, kissing your quivering lips. You whined into her mouth as her hand sped up, as if Wanda suddenly decided to hurdle you towards orgasm, and your poor fatigued brain had to fight to keep up. “Sometimes you just get so sleepy and it’s hard to remember to ask out loud, yeah?”

It was an excuse both of you leaned on, you to appear like you hadn’t meant to overstep and Wanda to be able to point at your sleep deprivation when Natasha inevitably asked why you felt so emboldened to act out in the next few days.

“I forgot, I’m sorry… won’t do it again.” The gentleness of her words always charmed you, seeing Wanda’s soft side that was reserved for only you and her wife turning you on effortlessly. “Please, so close…”

Her thumb rolled over your neglected clit and your entire body shuddered, clinging onto Wanda as tight as you could. Fortunately for her, you didn’t have enough strength to restrict her breathing. “I wish you could feel how soaked my hand is right now, poor messy thing. If I let you cum, will you make those pretty noises I love hearing?”

“I’ll do whatever you want,” The words came out smashed together, too preoccupied with Wanda curling her fingers in sync with her thumb, setting a pattern so mind numbing you didn’t realize your eyes had rolled back until the brunette dug her nails into the nape of your neck— nor did you hear Natasha walking through the door.

“How many times have I warned you not to promise her that?”

You startled at the extra hand on your head as it ruffled your messy hair before holding you still enough to kiss your temple. Natasha smelled earthy, like she’d been hunting in the woods; a stark contrast from where you last talked to her at the bar downtown. “Three hours ago when I saw you, you told me you felt dead on your feet, but refused to be sent home too early. Is Wanda keeping you up?”

“Yes, b-but I…” All at once you were keenly aware of how vulnerable you looked laid limply on Wanda, begging to cum as pitifully as a neglected pet. Nat had seen you like this and worse too many times to count, but being caught right on the edge left you shy.

“But she came home looking for it,” Wanda finished for you, pinching your thigh before you tried to pin your wanton display all on her. “Pajamas were too hard for our hard-worker to get to, but she wanted to sleep with me so she went with nothing because she’s smart enough to know it’s better to give me what I want.”

“More like I’ve taught her how to choose her battles when it comes to you.” The redhead didn’t force you to pull your gaze from where you hid your face in Wanda’s chest, choosing to smooth out the stray hairs she’d given you and while the gesture was sweet, both women pretty much babying you was overwhelming.

She wasn’t wrong, having learned either firsthand or from Nat’s instruction what was worth challenging versus when compliance was mandatory; she insisted there’d be a day when she could break Wanda of her bed linen obsessions. Both reasons your bosses gave you sounded submissive to one or the other, there was no use in acting tough when they were currently fawning over you like a lost lamb…

Silly as you were, you tried. “I was just sleepy.”

“Yeah? So sleepy you were begging for my fingers? Don’t try telling me you just wanted to sleep on them.” The idea shouldn’t have affected you as much as it did, but you were adjusting before you could convince yourself not to, pushing Wanda’s fingers deeper where they’d retreated from your entrance. Nat couldn’t see it, but Wanda could feel the subtle movement, digits brought back into wet warmth you were suddenly intent on denying existed and it occurred to her then you had a bit of a stubborn streak as well.

Nothing she and Natasha couldn’t conquer though. “We just had a little chat about being upfront about what you want. Surely you’d tell me if all you wanted was to go to bed, sweetheart.”

But you were too busy throwing the comforter over your head, shrouding yourself from head to toe. “You started touching me.”

Wanda and Natasha’s dual bombardment was dizzying, enough to leave you fighting not to grab Wanda’s wrist and move it yourself. They were too observant, knew exactly what buttons to push when you were in a certain headspace; when you came home stressed like tonight, they’d seen how much better off you were after you let go, but often you needed a little help getting there.

Wanda got you close, but Nat’s sudden appearance threw you off and now she was back to square one. It wasn’t any lack of security around her -you loved Nat as much as you did Wanda and always felt safe with both of them- you, again stubbornly, always wanted to feel like you were impressing the redhead. The couple joked about it often, how quick you were to turn to Natasha and search her typically stoic face for any sign of amusement; with even the faintest hint of a smile the pair swore they saw hearts fill your eyes. “She’s had enough of you, Wanda. Give her a break.”

“Oh boo hoo,” Wanda scoffed, sticking her tongue out at the woman standing next to her, “you always go so shy around her, wanting to look cool. She can be just as submissive as you are right now, trust me.”

“I am not!” There were some things you’d see less than a handful of times in your life; a submissive Natasha was one of them.

“There you go, denying it just as hard as this one.” Wanda laughed loud enough to jostle you, chest bubbling with laughter under your hot cheek. She went back to rubbing your back with one hand, trying to comfort you amongst her blatant enjoyment of your predicament. Still her fingers stayed between your legs, stroking your folds lazily and confirming it was the very mortification you suffered that soaked you further.

Natasha made your same mistake, presuming Wanda was too preoccupied to bother with her sheets; she got as far as a welcome home kiss from her wife before a warning once over wordlessly directed her to get rid of her dirty leather jacket and scuffed jeans. “Yeah yeah, I’m going to change. Worry about that wiggly thing you’ve got weighing you down. I think you’ve summoned a blanket creature.”

“Aww, mommy’s little ghost,” she mocked, nuzzling her head atop yours before setting her wrist back to work. You’d been on the brink of something so blissful just moments before, it was all too easy to bring you back there. Even if you insisted on hiding from her and Nat now. “What’s the matter? You were just fucking yourself silly on my hand.”

“Nuh uh,” You wanted to sound more defiant than you had, but your voice sounded shaky and small. The futile attempt only brought more laughter to the pair, having unwittingly become their nightly entertainment.

“No? You’re not a very good liar.” One of Wanda’s most prominent shortcomings was her impatience, a facet that heavily influenced when you and Natasha backed off and let her be. Not only did you forget to account for that now, you’d taken her earlier gentleness for granted instead of recognizing it for the reward it was: two missteps you were too dazed to notice drew on her fragile patience.

“If you admit it, I’ll drive you wherever you want tomorrow.” She was trying so hard to stay careful with you despite how close she was to the end of her own rope, but all you came back with was a bullish shake of your head. “We can get your favorite pizza and try out that milkshake bar you keep trying to drag us to-”

“Oh yes, surely bargaining with your brat of a ghost will make her behave better!” Nat must’ve wandered into the closet based on how far away she sounded, too far to argue with even if you did want to dig yourself a deeper hole by defying both your girlfriends.

“Shut up, Tasha, you’re such a pain.” It was a muttered jab, Wanda now bored of arguing and your withdrawal. So what if she had to coax you into it, she missed watching your sweet, unguarded face fall apart before her. She tried not to hold it against you too much; obviously you were so worn out you didn’t know what to do with yourself, but she couldn’t shake her annoyance completely.

Playing nice wasn’t working anymore; maybe you’d settle faster if she let you be as invisible as you’re pretending. “She wasn’t difficult until you got here. I think showing off to you so much is making her pick up bad habits.”

“I don’t have bad habits- fuck…!” She shut you up with a too far thrust, fingertips pressing painfully deep. You weren’t a brat, not to Natasha and certainly not to Wanda, tired hips finally trying to match the latter’s motions just to prove you were ready to be cooperative again, but you’d blown your chances for Wanda’s grace and now she wasn’t listening.

Despite your denial, Wanda let you finish for the sole purpose of making you feel how obvious of a lie you’d spun. “Ignore me all you want, but we all know what your needy little cunt was after.”

You were certain she’d shove you off, roll you over, something with how she might as well have spat her last sentence at you, but instead of the absence of her, you got more. Wanda didn’t let up for a second, pistoning in and out all while settling into a casual conversation with her wife who’d just flopped down on the opposite side of the bed.

“I-I’m…” Oh. Wanda’s thumb brushed over your neglected clit like it was nothing more than a fidget toy, flicking back and forth while you fought a losing battle over control of your body. You pawed at her clumsily, legs scrambling for purchase as you tried to lift up for just a second and break free, but all your struggles were no match for Wanda’s strength. “Mommy?”

No response. For you, at least. Wanda was busy locking lips with Natasha, a quick squeak of her own pulled as Nat nipped along the corners of her mouth. “I wish you could’ve seen all of the costumes today, Tasha. I sent pictures, but with no text back I assumed you were busy all day.”

She had to hear you, impossible to miss with how you not only called out her name repeatedly but kissed apologies along her sternum, pleading for acknowledgement. And yet, Wanda didn’t seem to spare you a single thought. Her hands stayed firm on either side of your lower half, one splayed over the small of your back to keep you still and the other inspecting an ever-growing mess, the heavy drag of her so intense you were toeing the edge of a second climax within minutes.

If Natasha paid you any mind, you couldn’t tell, but her sympathy was rare, always the one warning Wanda against being too forgiving. Her current affection was the only thing keeping Wanda from snapping on you entirely though, knowing as much as she was focusing on getting you ready for bed, Wanda was fighting sleep too and it was making her moodier by the second. “You should’ve taken my text back as a reminder that I don’t wear Halloween costumes, sneaky wife of mine.”

Great, both her partners chose to be difficult tonight. “Why can’t either of you just listen to me?”

“Ohh look who’s a brat now, Wanda. Do you hear yourself?” Nat was muffled from where you were under your blanket shield, but her snark was still clear as day.

Wanda took her mounting frustrations out physically, cruelly pulling her hand away and wrenching out of Natasha’s reach mid-kiss. The two of you shared a disappointed whine, immediately suffering the consequences of your actions, but Wanda didn’t care. “It’s for a few hours for one night! It won’t kill you, I gave you an outfit once before-”

“Put your hand back, mommy, I was so close!”

“Don’t interrupt me when I’m talking. You know better.” Wanda did return her hand in the form of a rapid succession of slaps, the thick, wet sounds of her open palm meeting your soaked, puffy core humiliating you beyond belief. It hurt, yes, but as the sting lingered it only stoked your desire for her further and as you pinned your lover’s hand between you and her thigh, you found you hadn’t lost a single bit of your need.

Learning from your mistake, you didn't push her, whining and pathetically getting yourself off while Wanda went back to coercing Natasha into Halloween fun. Obedience won you back some favor, three fingers now stretching you ruthlessly, second orgasm hitting you by surprise and bleeding straight into the third.

Somewhere around then was where you lost track of their conversation, Wanda and Natasha bickering back and forth slowly being drowned out by the ever-louder ringing of your ears. Your muscles went slack, jaw hanging open, drooling onto her wrinkling pajama shirt as you relented to Wanda’s torture and the pleasure she kept you so hooked on.

“Too much- I can’t, I can’t..!” You stammered out, fisting the mattress in a desperate plea for mercy. Everything ached, but you felt as though you were flying, soaring high above the house and into the dark city skies— and oh how you longed to fall right back into Wanda’s arms.

The older woman backed off almost too easily, returning to the gentle caresses she’d started with, “My hand’s tired, honey.”

You thought that’d be the end of it, that you’d stay here until you sailed into pleasant dreams, but then you were being rolled over and instead of hitting the mattress, your back met the sturdy warmth of Natasha’s lap. Relaxing there was all too easy, head rolling back onto her shoulder, moving without resistance as Nat’s fingers took hold of your chin and turned it until she could kiss you, deep and greedy. “Look at you, all fucked out already… Wanda, what’d you do to her?”

“Nothing she didn’t enjoy, whether she admits it or not. ” How Wanda managed to find her way to her knees so quickly was beyond you, but you didn’t have it in you to question. Lacquered nails slowly scratched over your pelvis where you still felt so tingly while Natasha took the opportunity to massage your newly exposed breasts, four hands exploring your exhausted body.

It was the same type of adoration you’d hid from earlier, but you were long past shying away now. You’d had more than enough of being ignored for a good while. “Hold her for me while I finish, you know how I hate messes in bed.”

Eyes you could barely manage to keep open peered past where Nat was groping you to see Wanda tie her hair back before settling onto her stomach, shuffling forward until she was close enough to nuzzle her cheek into your soft thighs. When she kissed your clit, you mewled, oversensitive from Wanda’s earlier abuse. “Mommy.. hurts..”

“Hush, baby, I’m only cleaning you up. I’d never hurt you,” Wanda whispered it so lovingly you had no choice to concede, discovering in the next second that even if you wanted to close your legs you couldn’t, Natasha’s own holding yours apart. She licked and sucked carefully, lulling your tired brain back into blissful nothingness.

The last thing you remember is Natasha’s deep voice right in your ear, your nipples caught between her calloused fingers as she rolled them in time with her wife’s tongue lapping at your leaking entrance. “Go to sleep, little dove, we’ll tuck you in safe and sound… and I promise to wake you up when I’m done with mommy.”

#I had to finish formatting this at work on my phone so if you see any issues uh… no you don’t 💖#private hire au #wandanat x reader #wandanat x reader fic #wandanat x reader smut #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #maximotts kinktober #kinktober #motts writes.

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crowleyholmes · 9 months

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Hello friends, lovers, hereditary enemies, and fellow Good-Omens-brain-rot-afflicted!

Inspired by some lengthy conversations and the need for reassurance regarding a renewal for season 3, the lovely Eena @michaelsheens and I have decided to start a little Project!

(Sorry, Crowley, we had to…)

THE NICE AND ACCURATE PROPHECIES* WEEK

Running from SEPTEMBER 25TH to OCTOBER 1ST, it’s all themed around season 3 and the assumption we’re gonna get that renewal. (Manifesting, baby.)

✨ THE PLAN ✨

Every day will focus on a theme around which everyone who wants to participate is encouraged to create any kind of content they want to! Art, fanfic, edits, playlists, speculation, meta, go nuts!

(Also please don’t worry if something doesn’t fit neatly into a day’s theme; they’re only meant to give somewhat of a prompt and structure. Ultimately it’s not that strict and serious, we just wanna see your stuff :))

✨ HOW TO PARTICIPATE ✨

Share whatever your big heart and massive brain comes up with and use the tag #gomensnaap

(It’s like a long nap or something.)

You’re also welcome to give shoutouts to other people’s work you love and want to celebrate, but please make sure to link and credit properly (!!!)

Most importantly: have fun <3

✨ THEMES ✨

(under the cut)

DAY 1: “And there will be great lamentations.”

Let’s talk the Second Coming! We start off and warm up with everything plot-related. Theories, meta, crack ideas, let’s hear your thoughts on where you think the Big Main Plot is going to go!

DAY 2: “I can make a difference!”

For day two, let’s focus on Aziraphale’s arc in season 3. Did he go to Heaven with a plan? Or is he winging it? (Pun only somewhat intended.) Was he threatened or manipulated or both or neither? Will he tell Heaven just where they can stick it or can he actually succeed? What’s in store for our favorite angel?

DAY 3: “Hated by Heaven, loathed by Hell. How will our hero cope?”

Day three is all about Crowley and what we think he’s going to get up to. Is he going to go drink himself senseless and have a good cry? Go snek and hybernate for a bit? Hang out with Muriel and do some tempting? Does he have a plan and how will he cope being on his own?

DAY 4: “There was magic abroad in the air…”

Let’s talk Ineffable Husbands! How are Crowley and Aziraphale going to resolve things between them? Will there be a massive fight? Radio silence for days/weeks/months/years? Will they learn to Actually COmmunicate? Will there be grudges, grand gestures, secret meetings, a big rescue mission from either side?

DAY 5: “Extreme sanctions.”

On day six we wanna make ourselves anxious, sad and upset. (As one does.) What thing that may or may not happen in season 3 are you most worried about? Dark/depressed/evil/etc Crowley? Memory-wiped/brain-washed/archangel Aziraphale? Book of Life? How could Neil & Co hurt us the most?

DAY 6: “Do you…want a hot chocolate?”

After day 5’s spiral, it’s time for a metaphorical treat. What are you most looking forward to in season 3? What do you really want to see? Headcanons coming true? Scenes you wish for? Things that’ll make you wanna name your cat/dog/fish/insert other pet here Neil Richard Gaiman or Sir Terence David John Pratchett?

DAY 7: “It’s starts, as it will end, with a garden.”

Finally, to finish it all up, let’s speculate about the end of season 3. How do you think we’ll leave this story? Will things just go back to how they’ve always been? Will there be peace? Earth hidden from Heaven and Hell with a big 500 Lazarii miracle? Aziraphale and Crowley turned human? Or will they get their cottage in the South Downs for the rest of eternity?

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens season 3 #good omens speculation #gomens #crowley #aziraphale #david tennant #michael sheen #neil gaiman #goodomensedit #goodomensgifs #goodomensfic #good omens fandom event #let's manifest season 3 friends!!!! <3 #ineffable husbands #ineffable beurocracy

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freedomfireflies · 1 year

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A Mother's Touch*

“Morning, mama.”

The soothing sound of Harry’s wake-up call gently pulls you from your dream and brings you back to the present.

You recognize the soft sunlight filtering in through the white, satin curtains first before you sense his body a few feet away.

He’s sitting on the edge of the mattress, just beside your legs, his large hand coming up to cup your cheek.

With a flutter of your lashes and a quick yawn, you turn over and focus on his smile. Your heart already growing warm at the sight of him.

Even though he was beside you all night, it feels as if it’s been forever since you’ve seen him. And it was only eight hours.

“Hi,” you murmur, taking a moment to find your voice, but the groggy cadence makes him grin a bit harder. “You’re up early.”

His thumb continues to stroke across your skin as he nods once. “Yeah. Wanted to make sure everything was ready.”

Your brow raises. “Ready?”

“Mhm.” He pulls his lip between his teeth and tries not to laugh. “You didn’t think I forgot, did you?”

“Forgot…what?”

He feigns a disappointed gasp. “Don’t tell me you forgot.”

“Forgot what?” you repeat in a near whine as you push yourself up. “It’s Sunday. We never have plans on Sunday.”

“We do on this Sunday.”

“Well, what is this Sunday? It’s not our anniversary, that’s not till October,” you remind him before pausing. “Wait, it’s not October, is it? I didn’t sleep that long, right?”

He laughs again and squeezes your chin. “Come on.”

Curious, but wildly intrigued, you take his hand and follow him out into the living room, heart hammering inside your chest.

Once you enter the large space, you take a moment to look around. However, it seems as though nothing has changed. The kitchen looks the same, the living room looks the same, the dining room looks the same. Everything is exactly how it always is.

A tad confused, you look over, and catch his wry smile.

He nods his head toward the patio, and after following his line of vision…you see it.

He’s made you breakfast.

But not just breakfast, he’s decorated the entire porch for you to enjoy your meal. Fresh flowers in the middle of the table, a card placed beside your plate, and his famous cup of coffee.

You feel his fingers intertwine with yours as he dips down and presses his lips to your temple. “Happy Mother’s Day, mama.”

There’s a catch in your throat as you glance up at him, your heart bursting with adoration. “Har,” you whisper, squeezing his hand. “This is so sweet.”

He merely shrugs the compliment off, and you know that to him, this is absolutely nothing. Making you a lavish breakfast and presenting you with stunning flowers is something he would do for you every day if he could.

But to you…it’s everything.

He leads you forward, pulling out your chair to help settle you in your spot before he’s rushing around to serve you. Asking you how much fruit you’d like, if you want any bacon, how many pancakes he can make for you.

You’ve never felt so enamored by one man.

And once both your plates are full, you simply sit at the table with the man you love. Unable to comprehend the feeling in your chest.

“So,” he begins once you’ve both finished eating, “how’d I do?”

You smile from behind your mug, leaning back in your seat as you nod. “It was delicious, baby. Absolute best thing to wake up to.”

He grins. “Good.”

“But…you know I’m not actually a mother, right?” you can’t help but check, eyebrow cocking up. “This isn’t some backward way of trying to tell me I’m pregnant, right?

He chuckles from behind his own coffee before his eyes soften. And he looks at you. Really looks at you. “I don’t think you need a baby to be a caregiver. I mean, you are a wonderful mother to our cat. Don’t get me wrong.”

You smile.

“But…you’re more than that. What you do is more than that,” he continues. “You care for me every day. Make sure I’m eating, make sure I’m getting enough rest, make sure I know when to say no. You make me feel…safe. Steady. Still. Everything around me moves. But when I’m with you…everything can just be…still.”

You can feel the lurch in your chest at his honest admission, and your lashes flutter as he takes a moment to think.

“And you care for everyone around you. Care for your friends, make sure they know they can come to you if they need. You care for my friends. My team. My sister, my mum. You go out of your way to make someone feel like they aren’t alone,” he says, and the way he speaks suggests he’s thought about this many times before.

It makes your mind race.

“You make sure everyone has put on their sunscreen and is drinking their water,” he adds, with a hint of a coy smirk. “You jump through hoops just to make everybody happy. Especially me. Baby or no baby…you care for people. You have a mother's touch. You show your heart to everyone you meet...and I think that deserves to be celebrated.”

The tears are springing to your eyes before you can stop them, and the moment he sees, he leaps from his chair.

With a gentle smile, he crouches down near your knees and places his palm against your cheek for a second time. Cupping your face in his large hand while wiping at the fallen tears.

“My love,” he whispers. “You know I’d celebrate you every day if I could.”

“You do,” you tell him honestly, taking hold of his wrist to give it a squeeze. “You celebrate me, and you love me, and you make me feel seen. I can never thank you enough for that—”

He immediately rejects this idea, head shaking fervently as he straightens up, and surges forward. “No. You don’t ever have to thank me for that.”

And he kisses you.

Hard and with every ounce of love you know he has. Until you’re gasping for air and growing weak in his embrace. Until you have no choice but to believe him.

And it’s tender and sweet for a good minute or two more before it begins to grow desperate. Needy. Until you’re being pulled from the chair and practically trapped against his body so he can take.

Your fingers fist his shirt, clutching on for dear life as you whimper against his mouth. And the sound makes him groan.

“Shit,” he hisses as he trails his lips down your jaw. “If you wanted me to put a baby in you, all you had to do was ask.”

And you know he’s kidding but right now…you don’t hate the idea.

“This is me asking,” you whisper, pausing long enough to meet his eye.

You watch his expression darken with lust before he’s bending down, looping his arms around your hips, and tossing you over his shoulder.

You squeal as you’re carried back to the bedroom, laughing at the way he smacks your ass before tossing you down onto the mattress.

He takes a beat to pull his shirt over his head and toss it onto the floor. And once it’s off, he crawls after you, mouth immediately finding yours once again.

“Har?” you murmur, nose brushing his cheek.

He stops and looks at you.

And you can’t help but smile. “Put a baby in me.”

So, with a wicked grin…he does just that.

“You got it, mama.”

Happy Mother's Day (or just regular old Sunday!) to all the amazing caregivers out there! You do so much for the world and we love you 🥹💞💞💞

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

#harry #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles fan #harry styles x you #harry styles smut #harry styles concept #harry edward styles #mother's day #harry styles fluff #fluff

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burntheedges · 3 months

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Maintenance Request: Chapter 13

Joel Miller x f!reader | new chapter every Friday 18+ | ao3 | main post & chapter list chapter word count: 9.3k

chapter summary: you (10:42 PM): going home with Joel 😳 a/n: thank you as always to @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta 💕 chapter tags/warnings: flirting, banter, fluff, poetry (links at the bottom), cursing, we are earning that explicit rating today folks, pet names (honey, baby, gorgeous, darlin’, my smart girl, my pretty girl, my good girl, sweetheart, handsome, cowboy), smut: fondling, kissing, cuddling, dirty talk, oral (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), mention of breasts (and fondling), grinding, p-in-v sex, creampie (reader is on birth control, but wrap it up IRL, folks)

Chapter 13

Friday, October 25 (still) Ninth week of the semester

The ride to Joel’s was full of tension, in the best possible way. His hand quickly found a home on your leg and his fingers wandered to the inside of your thigh over the course of the drive. You sent Beth his address, which he dictated dutifully when you asked, and tucked your phone back in your pocket before reaching out to hold his hand while you watched him drive.

At a stop light he looked over and met your gaze. He smirked. “See something you like, darlin’?”

You hummed. “Reckon I do, cowboy.”

He squeezed your thigh. “Reckon I like the look of you in my truck, gorgeous.” You smiled.

Joel didn’t live too far out of town, it turned out, and you realized he lived in the same suburb as you, just at different ends.

“Not too far from me, then,” you observed. He nodded.

His house wasn’t huge, but clearly well-maintained. It looked homey and comfortable even from the outside.

The landscaping, though, was amazing. You stared at it through the window of the truck.

“Holy crap, Joel.” You could hear the wonder in your voice. “Did you do all of that?”

There was some grass, but what drew your attention was the beautiful arrangement of trees and bushes curving from the front around the side of the house. And there were flowers everywhere. It looked wild and riotous, in a way, but also planned, like it had been encouraged to grow into its shape. You wished it wasn’t so dark out so you could take in the full effect. “It’s beautiful,” you breathed, and as your breath fogged up the window you realized you’d leaned in so close your forehead was almost touching it. You finally looked over at Joel and realized he was blushing.

“Er, yeah. That was me.” He cleared his throat. “Sarah helped, a bit. She’s not as into it as I am, but she knows her way around a garden.” While he pulled to a stop in the driveway you were jumping out of the truck almost before you realized it. You stepped on to the path of stones that led through the front yard with your mouth open in awe, looking around you at the plants that guided and formed the path. You stepped forward slowly, looking around you and taking it all in. Distracted, you barely noticed the sound of his footsteps as Joel came up behind you. His arms slid around your waist and his face found a home in the curve of your neck. You could feel the heat of his blush and raised one of your hands to tangle in his hair.

“Joel, this really is beautiful.” You were still breathless and could hear it. “I just— I’m amazed. It looks so…” you trailed off, trying to find the right words. You hesitated, and recited,

“the bumblebees furrow the pursed and purple lips of false indigo for the dusty blush and I want to go make a hallelujah of my own simple body.”

He pulled back and spun you by your hips to face him. “Was that from a poem?” You smiled and nodded, a little sheepish. “I love it when you quote poetry to me, baby. God, you’re so fucking smart.” He sounded breathless himself.

You grinned. “Does that do it for you, cowboy?”

He pulled you into a searing kiss, right there in his front yard.

“It really does, honey. I love watching you work. I love learning how you think.” You closed your eyes as he kissed your neck. “How do you always know the right poem for the moment? You’re breathtaking. You take my breath away.” He kissed you again.

“Joel,” he hummed in response, kissing you. “Take me inside.” He nodded and kissed you again. “Joel.”

He laughed and pulled back. “Alright, let’s get off the lawn.”

“I do want a garden tour, later. When I can see it.”

He grinned. “Whenever you’d like, gorgeous. And just so you know, I don’t have any of those flowers that make you sneeze.”

You blinked, stunned. “Really? None of them?” He nodded. Wow.

Joel took your hand again and the two of you walked towards his front door, and then through it into his front hall. Just as you’d thought from seeing the outside, the inside was welcoming and warm. You could see that it wasn’t messy, but he hadn’t really tidied — maybe he hadn’t wanted to get his hopes up or assume anything. Sarah’s soccer bag was by the front door, and a pile of shoes teetered by the front closet. As you stepped into the living room you noticed a blanket hastily thrown over the back of the couch. There were some books on the coffee table, as well as a pile of what looked like Sarah’s schoolwork.

The walls were deep, forest green, and the furnishings drew you in like a warm hug. As you peered into the kitchen, you noticed that other than some dishes in the sink, it was pretty neat.

You realized Joel hadn’t followed you and turned to find him watching you explore. He looked worried, but like he was trying to hide it, despite running his hand through his hair and giving himself away.

“It’s lovely, Joel. It feels like—” you cut yourself off, but you could see he wanted to know what you thought. “It feels like a home.”

He smiled and looked down, hand on the back of his neck. “That’s probably Sarah’s influence, not my doing.” You shook your head.

“I don’t believe you. Not now that I know what you’re capable of, with that garden outside.” He smiled as you stepped closer to him.

“Do you want a drink, darlin’?” He placed his hands lightly on your hips and squeezed. You hummed and placed your hands on his chest in response. “I think,” you started, stepping closer to bring your chest in contact with his, sliding your hands around his neck, “that I don’t want a drink.”

He smirked. “No?”

You shook your head. “No. I think—” your mouth was so close to his, almost touching. “I think I’d like—” he leaned closer, but you turned your head so he kissed the corner of your mouth. “A tour.”

It took him a minute to respond. “A tour?”

“Mm-hmm.” You nodded, and hid your smile. “You know, see the rest of your house.” You paused, drawing it out. “Maybe your bedroom.”

You felt him grin against your cheek and he tightened his arms around you. “Oh baby, you only had to ask.” His voice was deep and you could feel it vibrating in your chest.

He spun you around so that you were facing the stairs and started to walk backwards. “Well, here you see the living room. That’s the kitchen,” he nodded in its direction. “The backyard has a bigger garden.” You perked up, but he pulled you in and kept you in front of him. “Later, gorgeous. We’ve got places to be.”

You laughed. “Is “places” your bed?”

He grinned, unrepentantly. “See? My smart girl.” You reacted to that in a way you hadn’t expected, and you knew he could see it. You could almost feel your pulse pick up and your breath hitched. But you had something else on your mind.

“Can I glance at the backyard, Joel?”

He smiled. “Course you can, darlin’.” He changed directions and led you to the sliding glass door at the back of the kitchen instead.

You stood at the door, and Joel turned on the back porch light to let you look. He was right, it was hard to see much outside, but you could tell even then that there were plants growing everywhere. You could see the path that led away from the porch and then split in different directions. Part of you wanted to go outside and explore it, right then, but Joel stepped up behind you and placed his hands on your waist. He kissed your neck and murmured, “I’ll show you everything tomorrow, darlin’. When we can see it.” You nodded and leaned back into him. He ran his lips softly along your jaw before pressing another kiss in front of your ear. In a low, warm voice, he asked, “can I kiss you, gorgeous?”

You smiled. “You are kissing me, Joel.”

He squeezed your hips before turning you and stepping close. “I told you earlier, honey, I’ve been thinking about the way you kissed me in your office. I can’t stop thinking about it.” His right hand came up to touch your face. “The way it felt to have you pressed against me. The soft noises you made when I kissed you right.” He ran his thumb lightly across your lips. “The way you fit just right in my arms.”

“Me too, Joel.” You closed your eyes and saw the moment again. Joel, between your legs as you perched on the desk, driving every thought right out of your mind with his touch. With his lips.

“So honey,” he pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Can I kiss you again?” You opened your mouth to say yes, but the sound of the ‘y’ was barely out of your mouth before his lips met yours.

You felt him everywhere. His hands held you in place, one at the back of your neck, one curving around to your back. The warmth of him pressed against you, so solid. His kiss grounded you and set you alight.

He started slow, but before long the passion you’d found against your desk returned. You opened your mouth and he took advantage, his tongue teasing along your bottom lip before sweeping inside.

You opened your legs and Joel stepped forward, reaching down to hitch one around his hips, which came forward and nestled right against yours. You sighed into the kiss, and he broke away to press kisses along your jaw and down your neck. “You feel perfect against me, honey,” he murmured, pulling your hips forward against his own. You felt the warm length of his cock through his jeans. “Like you were made to fit in my arms.” You brought your own up and around his neck and buried your hands in his hair, returning his kisses along the collar of his shirt.

“I’ve been thinking about how you pressed me against my desk all week, Joel.” He hummed and tilted his head to give you better access. “Almost did let you get in my pants right there.”

He laughed. “I would’a jumped at the chance, gorgeous. I know I already told you but, well, I’ve had a bit of a crush on you, you know.”

“Oh?” You smiled, and leaned back to rest your head against the glass door, meeting his gaze. His lips were adorably red and a bit swollen, his hair tousled and messy. You liked the look on him.

“Mm-hmm. Couldn’t take my eyes off you that first day, or any day since, if I’m bein’ honest.” He smiled ruefully. “You swept me off my feet, honey.” You bit your lip. He watched.

“In a way, you did the same to me, you know.”

He shook his head. “Baby, we both know you didn’t like me—”

“No, Joel. Even if I was blaming you for whatever had gone wrong that day, I still couldn’t ignore you. I already told you you’re the hottest man I’ve ever seen. I wasn’t lying. And god, I was so mad that you were so hot. Especially after I poured coffee all over myself.” You laughed. “You sure do inspire strong emotions in me, handsome.” He grinned.

“Well, baby, I sure am glad those emotions turned positive.”

“It didn’t take long, Joel. I was avoiding the truth.”

He shrugged. “We still got here.” He squeezed your hips.

“Finally,” you teased. He kissed you in retaliation.

“Speaking of here, Joel, when do I get the rest of my tour?” You pursed your lips against a smile and tried to look serious. He laughed.

“My apologies, darlin’, please follow me. I’ve saved the best for last.” You laughed too, knowing exactly where he was taking you. He guided you towards the stairs and you separated, finally, and followed him up, taking the chance to admire him from behind. It was a nice view.

At the top of the stairs, Joel turned again and took your hand. He stood there and pointed at the doors down the hall, starting with the one at the far end. “That’s Sarah’s room, and her bathroom. That’s the guest room, but really it’s Tommy’s.” He pointed at the one in between Sarah’s and the door you were stopped next to. “And here we are,” he pulled you close and tucked you into his side as he opened that final door. “Last stop on the tour.” He used his grip on your hip to guide you in front of him, and you took in his bedroom.

Your first thought was that it was just like him. A bit messy, but warm. Inviting. Heavy wooden bed, nice furniture, decorations and furnishings that were clearly chosen with purpose — it all fit right into your mental image of Joel. He might not have tidied, but it did look like he’d made up the bed with clean sheets.

“Hmmm,” you let him wait for your answer. “I like it.”

He huffed a laugh and buried his face in your neck again. “Well, ain’t that a relief.” You laughed, too.

Joel stepped closer until he was flush against your back. You leaned into him, closing your eyes and sinking into his warmth and the feel of him. “Can I kiss you, darlin’?” His voice was playful as he asked you again for permission, and you quirked an eyebrow.

He started pressing kisses up your neck and you dropped your head to the right to give him better access. “Hmm, you are kissing me, Joel. You have been.”

He opened his mouth and ran his teeth down your neck before closing them and worrying a mark at the edge of your shoulder. You sighed and let him take your weight, leaning back into him fully. “Can I kiss you everywhere, baby?” As he asked, he slid his left hand down over your stomach until it rested right above your core. He flattened his hand and pressed down as he pressed another kiss below your ear. “Can I kiss you right here?”

You felt suddenly like you were on fire. A sharp tingle ran up your spine and over your scalp as you gasped. Your hands moved without your conscious input until they were clutching at the arm he still had wrapped around your waist. You couldn’t find your words, but you opened your legs wider, and you felt him grin against your neck.

“Oh, does my pretty girl like that?” A breathy, high pitched sigh escaped you as he started moving his hand lower. “Hmm, I think you like that. ” He kissed your neck as his hand moved down to cup your pussy lightly. “Which part is it that you like, baby? Is it that I think you’re pretty?” You did like that, but that wasn’t it and he could tell. “But you knew that already. Is it that I called you mine?” Your breath hitched again and you tilted your hips up to give him better access. He tightened his grip. “That’s my good girl.” You reacted before you consciously recognized his words, a soft moan slipping between your lips. You felt Joel grin into your neck.

“I gotta ask you again, baby. Can I kiss you? Right here?” He squeezed his left hand over your pussy and you sucked in a breath. “What was it you said outside… ‘make a hallelujah of my body.’ Let me do that for you, baby. Can I give you my mouth? Let me see how pretty you are when you come, honey. Can I?”

His words shook you into motion, and you nodded, finally. “Yes, Joel.” You couldn’t believe he remembered what you’d said. Your voice was breathy and you could hear your own arousal taking over. “Please.”

“Shh, honey, I got you.” he slid his hand back up to your hip, and you almost protested before he started to guide you forward. “I’ll give you everything you want.” He turned you and guided you down to sit on the edge of his bed before kneeling in front of you. Your eyes tracked him the whole way down.

Joel placed his hands on your knees and you watched as he slowly slid them up your thighs, skirting around where you wanted them most before coming to rest at the waistband of your pants. You sighed and he pulled lightly on the waistband before undoing the button, urging you to move your hips forward towards the edge of the bed. He murmured, “c’mere, honey.” His voice was somehow even deeper than before, rumbling gently over you. Your eyes fluttered shut.

He tugged your pants down gently, taking your underwear with them. You fought the urge to close your legs against his scrutiny, but as quick as they were gone his hands returned and held your thighs apart. You opened your eyes, not wanting to miss a minute of him between your knees.

“Let me see that pretty pussy, honey. Been dying to set my eyes on every inch of you. Was torture, feeling how warm and wet you were even through your pants, back at the bar.” His words made your cheeks burn, but you stopped yourself from pulling away and opened your thighs, letting them fall to either side. His eyes immediately locked on what you revealed to him. He quirked that half smile that had caught your eye from the very beginning.

“Gorgeous,” he murmured, and scooted closer. He leaned forward, and you felt his breath against your inner thighs. It made you shiver. “I can’t wait to taste you, honey. I know you’re going to be sweet.” He pressed a kiss to your inner thigh. Your breath hitched. “And juicy.” He grinned.

You laughed. “Been wet down there for a while, I know you know that.”

“Well, darlin’, don’t leave me hanging. How long is a while?” He brought one of his hands forward and teased lightly along your slit with his fingers. You squirmed.

“Since, ah,” you sighed as he pressed a kiss right above your pussy. “Since you kissed me in my kitchen. And then, well, you kept touching me. And dancing, and then on your lap—” You cut yourself off.

He caught your eye again, and his eyes were dark. “Baby, you been wet all night? Just like this?” You nodded, biting your lip. “Should’a told me. I’m not the kind of man that leaves a woman waiting.” He splayed his hands on your hips and moved his thumbs down to rest gently on each of your lips.

You sucked in a breath. “Oh?”

Joel nodded, and grinned. His expression was all lust and mischief. “Goes against my principles.” You laughed. He was cute like this, talkative and dirty. You had no idea he’d be so talkative in bed, but you loved it.

He pressed down with each thumb and opened your pussy to his gaze. Suddenly you were overwhelmed – sitting there, legs splayed open to him, with his thumbs spreading your pussy wide was so much. It was heady and the air roiled around you, thick with arousal. It almost made your eyes roll back in your head.

“Joel--“ you started, but he didn’t let you finish.

“You just sit back and let me take care of you, honey.” He leaned close and you could feel his breath against your entrance. “You’re all messy down here. Be a good girl for me and let me clean you up, alright?” You moaned and fell back on the bed as his mouth finally made contact where you wanted it the most.

You’d been trembling since his thumbs had opened you up to him. You felt his hot breath first, and then his tongue, pressed firmly against you as he licked you in a stripe up your pussy, ending at your clit. You gasped and clenched the comforter in your fists. He held you firmly in place as you squirmed, hands pressing on your hips and holding you open. Before you could catch your breath he did it again, the flat of his tongue lapping at you from your entrance. His mouth reached your clit again and he teased the tip of his tongue in a circle around it. The sensation sent vibrations through you as you thrust your hips towards his face.

He hummed into you. “You taste so good, honey.” His voice was low, almost a growl. “Don’t know how I’ll ever get enough.” He started circling your clit lightly with his tongue and you heard a high-pitched whine erupt from you. He chuckled darkly without moving his mouth away from you.

You felt like you’d had the wind knocked out of you at the first touch of his tongue. You felt exposed, but somehow in a good way. You looked down and watched his head bobbing as he worked you over, your whole body shaking in response.

His eyes were closed and the look on his face was pure bliss.

“Oh my god, Joel, I—” You gasped as he moved down to tease your entrance with his tongue. “Fuck.” He pressed lightly around it in circles before pressing down with just the tip. You held your breath and you swore you could feel him smile as he pressed it inside you. You let out something that sounded suspiciously like a sob.

Joel’s tongue pushed all the way inside you and he closed his mouth over your hole and kissed you, just like he’d promised. His mouth felt just as amazing there as it did everywhere else. He sucked lightly and your muscles loosened like they were jelly. You felt waves of pure pleasure crash over you, tingling over your scalp and down your back in time with the thrusts of his tongue. He curved his tongue upwards and hummed and you almost clenched your knees around his head, pure reflex — you would have, if his hands weren’t still pinning you in place. Right where he wanted you.

He moved his hands for the first time and his left came over your hips, his forearm like a bar holding you down. His right moved down and you shook with the knowledge of its destination. His tongue slipped from you slowly, and you almost protested, but before you could, his tongue moved smoothly back up to your clit and his fingers took its place. You felt him touch you in two places — his tongue, lightly curling around your clit before pressing down with delicious pressure, and his finger, rubbing lightly at your entrance, teasing around it in a circle. You heaved in a breath as you forced yourself to let go of the comforter with your right hand. It had almost cramped, and you shook it out, laughing at yourself. Hand now free, you ran your fingers through his hair. He hummed and tilted his head — you took the invitation and clutched at his hair tightly.

Joel’s mouth broke you apart expertly. His tongue played your clit like he knew exactly what you liked. His finger teased at your entrance before pushing in slowly, so slowly you couldn’t help but feel every single millimeter. He curled it upwards and touched a part of you that sent sensations radiating up your torso and down your legs, little lightning strikes that took what remained of your breath away. You could hardly focus on anything but the pleasure that was building steadily all through your body, pooling in your hips and spreading upwards until you were breathing it in.

Joel slid his finger out but quickly replaced it with two. The stretch was delicious. In some distant, still lucid part of your brain, you wondered how big his cock would feel if his fingers felt like this. When he curled the two of them together your back arched off the bed as you moaned, but he held you firmly in place with his forearm across your hips. His mouth didn’t move back even an inch.

You felt like you were slipping downwards into the heat of his mouth and the steady thrusts of his fingers, suddenly teetering on the precipice, ready to fall apart. “Joel, I—” you gasped in a breath. “I’m close, Joel, fuck—” He pressed closer, tongue pressing firmly on your clit, lips closing around it to lightly suck. At the same time his fingers thrust inside you and curled right into the spot that felt like heaven, like he was pressed against the deepest part of you, reaching inside of you and touching every part of you. And you fell over the edge.

It felt like falling. Like you slipped from a great height, a swooping sensation low in your stomach. Your body curved upwards even as you felt heavy, suddenly dizzy as you spun in place. It came over you like lightning, like electricity running from the tip of your head to the bottom of your feet, like it was scouring your veins and leaving nothing but pleasure behind.

You heard yourself breathing heavily like you’d just run a marathon. You felt emptied, empty of everything but pleasure and heat and the feel of Joel’s mouth, open against your clit. He worked you through it, tonguing at you lightly, guiding you back to yourself from the heights he’d expertly ushered you towards only moments before.

You were stunned. You couldn’t move your arms or legs, could only breathe, your chest heaving. Your eyes were wide and staring up at the ceiling. It distantly occurred to you that the feeling was becoming too much. “J—” you tried, and failed. You sucked in a breath and tried again. “Joel, sto—” somehow, he got the message and lifted his face from you. His fingers stilled.

He was breathing heavily too, you could feel it against your thighs. You took a deep breath and lifted your head to look for him.

He was waiting for you. Joel’s eyes met yours and you couldn’t look away. He looked wrecked. His face was red and he was absolutely covered in you. You could see it, glistening on his skin.

He was smiling.

“You’re so beautiful when you come, baby.” His voice was breathless, but still deep. You realized idly that you were still wearing your top and you almost couldn’t believe it. You felt like he’d stripped you bare and turned the whole of you inside out with his mouth. And he was somehow still fully clothed himself. “Can’t believe how good it felt, the way you came apart on my tongue.” He licked his bottom lip and you watched, tracking it. He brought one of his hands up to his face and wiped down his cheeks, thumb on one side and fingers on the other. He was still a mess, after, but he looked down at his hand and then met your eyes again and smirked. He brought it up to his mouth and licked, slowly cleaning up what you’d left behind.

Your mouth fell open, watching him. You felt your arousal building again. Your legs twitched.

When he was finished you looked back up to meet his eyes and found him watching you watch him. His eyes were dark and intent.

“That’s one, baby.”

You blinked, taking in his words. “One?” You felt like you could barely think, still reeling from the power of the orgasm he pulled from you and the sight of him reveling in it afterwards.

“That’s right,” he answered, finally leaning back and sitting on his heels. He winked at you. “You think I could be happy with just one, after seeing the way you just fell apart for me? No,” he chuckled, and rose slowly to his feet. It felt obscene, having him standing over you fully clothed while you laid there, legs splayed open for him, chest heaving. More obscene than anything else you’d done tonight, and he wasn’t even touching you. “One just isn’t enough. I need to see it again. Need to watch. Been thinking about it, imagining it.” He started undoing the buttons of his shirt and you finally gathered the strength to sit up, your hands flying forward to stop him. You met his eyes as you pushed his hands out of the way to take over and undo his buttons yourself. He nodded and you held his gaze as you undid the last button. He shrugged out of the shirt and let it fall to the floor behind him. “I need to see it up close, honey.”

Your hands came to rest lightly on his chest and your eyes followed. Joel might call you gorgeous, but looking at him took your breath away. He was strong, built, even if not overly defined. You could see the strength in his body, in his arms, strength that was earned from his job and from being a dad. You wanted him to touch you again. Right as you thought it, like he could see inside your mind, his right hand came up and lifted your chin. You could feel the lingering moisture from being inside you on his fingers.

“Hello, gorgeous.” He smiled at you. “Think you should take off that shirt, baby.” You smiled back.

“Only if you take off these pants.” You slid your hand down to press against the front of his jeans. Joel’s hips stuttered forward at your touch and you grinned. He took a step back, letting his hand fall away toward his own waist band. He nodded at your shirt and you raised your hands, too. You slid your shirt upwards at the same moment he unbuttoned his pants, revealing his cock to your eyes for the first time. It stood hard and proud against his stomach. It was big. You felt your eyes widen at the sight, and you reached a hand out without thinking. He stepped forward to meet it.

You didn’t put your hand around him, but rather ran your fingertips down the length of his cock, from tip to root. He grabbed your wrist and held your hand still, grunting. Your eyes flew back up to meet his own and you suddenly realized you were panting, mouth dropped open.

“Not yet, baby.” Joel took a deep breath. “Will you let me give you another one? I want to watch you come again, gorgeous, want to see it up close this time.” He eased you back onto the bed and slowly crawled over you, until he was hovering above you, hands next to your head. When he paused there you realized he was waiting for your answer. You smiled.

“You’d better.”

He laughed. “Oh yeah? Is that how it is?” You grinned and nodded. He eyed you, eyes dark with desire. “M’gonna wipe that grin off your face, beautiful. I’m gonna make you come so hard you can’t say anything but my name, can only feel me inside you. Nothing else.” You licked your bottom lip, his words holding you in place under his gaze. “Gotta watch it on your face this time.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips, almost gentle. “Wanna see it in your eyes. Can you keep ‘em open for me, honey? Be my good girl, let me see you?” You nodded, speechless, and he grinned. “Yeah, of course you can. I knew you’d be so good for me.”

Joel finally brought his mouth down again and this time it wasn’t gentle. His tongue swept inside and tangled with yours, and your hands flew up to tangle in his hair, to hold him there. You could taste yourself on his tongue; you whimpered into his mouth. He licked the sound from you and claimed it as his own.

You were already spinning in circles, dazed by his kiss, when he lifted his right hand and started to tease his fingers down your collarbone. The gentle sensation contrasted amazingly with the hungry way he devoured your mouth and you squirmed. He sank his teeth into your bottom lip before pulling away to press hot kisses down your cheek to your neck, where he worried another mark with his teeth.

“You know, darlin’,” he murmured into your neck, voice deep. “I didn’t get a chance to say how much I like, no, love your tits.” He slid his right hand down to cup your right breast and you pushed your chest into his hand. He smiled against your neck. “Jesus, you’re perfect. Perfect pussy, perfect tits, perfect orgasm, perfect everything.” He kissed you again. “Don’t think I’ll ever get enough of this. How could I, hmm?” He bit down on your shoulder and you moaned. “’S impossible. Sweet as honey, you know. Sweet, and gorgeous, and sexy, and so fucking smart,” he left a trail of soft kisses down your chest as he praised you and your head was spinning with it. He pressed his forehead to your chest, mouth resting right against your breast as he spoke. “My good girl.” You trembled, chest heaving. Almost broken apart again just by his voice, his words. “So fucking good for me.”

Joel pressed his lips to your breast and then moved his mouth to your nipple. He teased it with his tongue. “Mm, Joel—” you wanted to try to return his words, to tell him how you felt the same way. He was so much, he was everything. “I—” your breath hitched again as he worried your nipple with his teeth. “You—” you couldn’t get a sentence out. Couldn’t put it together to begin with. You sighed.

“I’ve never felt like this before, Joel.” Your voice was breathy but strong. Joel picked his head up to look at you again and you reached out to cup his cheek. “You’re so… Joel. No one has ever made me feel this good. I feel— You’re—” you bit your lip. You felt dangerously close to saying something it was way too early to say, even as you felt yourself falling towards it. You lightened your tone. “You’ll never get rid of me now.” You smiled, but his face was serious.

“Baby, I’d never want to. I want you here,” he pressed his hand into your chest. “Right here. Under me, over me, with me—” he cut himself off and took a deep breath. “I want you right where you are, honey.” You wondered if you were both holding back from saying anything that was too much, too soon for your first date. Your first date, you reminded yourself sternly. You were feeling a lot for this man, sure, but you knew you had time to get where you were headed. You had time. You smiled, and cupped his face in both hands.

“Under you, huh?”

He raised an eyebrow at you. “What?”

You focused and moved your hands to tangle your fingers in his hair, guiding his mouth back to your chest. “Under him” had reminded you, and your voice was breathy as you recited,

"i like my body when it is with your body. It is so quite new a thing. Muscles better and nerves more. i like your body. i like what it does, i like its hows. i like to feel the spine of your body and its bones, and the trembling -firm-smooth ness and which i will again and again and again kiss,"

Your breath hitched on the word “kiss”, interrupting you, as Joel suddenly dropped his forehead to rest against your sternum. He cursed, voice low. “Fuck.” You could see and feel him trembling. You gathered yourself and continued,

"i like kissing this and that of you, i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes over parting flesh… And eyes big love-crumbs,

and possibly i like the thrill

of under me you so quite new..."

You trailed off as Joel cursed again. “Fuck, baby. That’s a poem?” You grinned.

“It is.” You felt yourself breathing a bit hard, like you’d just sprinted towards him. “Did you like it?”

Joel finally lifted his head and you saw that he was wrecked. His pupils were huge, his hair everywhere from tangling between your fingers. He was breathing hard and fast. “Did I like it?” he asked, voice absolutely incredulous. He surged forward to capture your mouth in a searing kiss.

By the time he released you every thought had fled your mind, and all you knew was his mouth on yours. “Baby, I can’t believe how goddamn lucky I am. Shit.” He drew in a shuddering breath. “I do like kissing this and that of you,” he repeated your words back to you, voice deep. “I do like the thrill of you, right here.” He pressed a quick kiss to your sternum, right in between your breasts.

You reached out to cup his face in your hands again. “You have me Joel. Now, I believe you promised me something.”

He grinned. “That I did, gorgeous.” He turned his face to kiss both of your palms one after another, before ducking back down to pick up right where he left off. He licked at your left nipple and tweaked the other with his right thumb. You smiled, sinking back into the tide of pleasure he drew over you so easily, so expertly.

As his tongue continued to work, he leaned to the left and slipped his right hand down your chest. His fingertips played over your breast and your stomach and your hip, coming to rest right above where he’d kissed you only moments ago. You twisted both hands in his hair. “Yes, Joel.” You urged him onward, spreading your legs to give him better access. You felt him smile against your chest.

His fingertips moved lower, brushing against your slit gently. “How are we feeling down here, honey? Sensitive?” He pressed his fingertips lightly between your folds, gently touching your clit.

You were a little sensitive, sure, but not in a bad way. You told him so. “Feels good, Joel.”

He hummed. “Feels wet, honey. Is this pussy always like this?” He swiped his finger gently from your clit to your entrance, and you felt the glide of how wet you were.

You shook your head. “’S just for you, Joel.” You breathed it, almost whispered it, and he pressed a kiss to your right breast in response.

“Well, I do like the sound of that.” He used two fingers to press more firmly against your entrance. “I like your body, ‘n what it does.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he repeated the line back to you. He kissed his way back up your torso as he slowly pressed in with his fingers, but stopped with just the tips inside of you, just past your entrance. He pressed his mouth to your neck again. “So responsive, so good. All for me.” He nipped at your jaw as he pressed his fingers just a bit further inside, teasing you. You squirmed, trying to thrust forward on them, but he held them in place.

“How wet do you think we can get you, honey?” He pressed in further, but then withdrew again so just the tips were inside again. You protested, wordlessly. He soothed you with a kiss to your cheek. “I want you to soak my cock. I want you so wet that when I slip inside it’s smooth like silk.” You gasped as his fingers slid inside you again, further this time, but he withdrew them again. He was teasing you and holding you right at the edge, not quite letting you relax into it. It was just on the right side of too much. “So beautiful, baby, the way you want these fingers inside of you. Is this what you need, honey?” You nodded as he slipped the two fingers back inside of you. He stayed there, this time, and curled them upwards. You gasped. “Yeah, you need it. Need these fingers to open you up, hmm? Need to get you ready to take this cock.” He thrust his hips against your leg, and you felt it, warm and heavy and ready for you.

“I need it,” you agreed, voice thin. He withdrew his fingers again and you started to say no, stop, wait, anything, but before you could even shape your mouth around the words he plunged them back into you, deep. So fucking deep, it felt perfect. His fingers filled you again and you imagined how his cock would feel and you moaned.

“That’s right, honey.” You opened your eyes to find him watching you, intent. “You’re taking my fingers so well, so easy. Like every part of me was meant to be inside you.” He kissed you, quick. “My tongue, my fingers. My cock.” He twisted his fingers inside you, starting to thrust, ending each one with a curl, touching that spot that you felt echo through your body like a lightning bolt. “I want to make you feel so good, honey. Want to be inside of you, want to touch you everywhere. Want my mouth on every inch of you.” He brought his thumb to your clit, pressing gently in small circles in time with his thrusts and the combination brought your impending orgasm much closer, suddenly, much higher. Suddenly desperate, you reached up to bring his mouth to yours. His wicked mouth, with these words that were causing every thought to fall right out of your head.

Joel took his cue from you and captured your mouth as his hand worked you higher and higher. You felt seconds away from another precipice and it almost took you by surprise when you launched over it, thrown into an orgasm in the palm of his hand. It washed over you, sinking you beneath its waves, drawing you under into a brief oblivion. You blinked and realized Joel was speaking lowly into your ear, “—at’s it, honey, just beautiful. God, you’re so fucking gorgeous when you come. So perfect. So good for me, honey. So fucking good. Can’t wait to sink my cock inside you, to feel how warm and wet and perfect you are inside. Don’t know how I go so lucky, but I’m going to make you feel so fucking good. Gonna be so good to you, sweetheart.”

As you caught your breath, chest heaving, you breathed, “you’re pretty good at this, cowboy.”

He met your eye and raised an eyebrow. “Cowboy, huh? Is that the one”

You shrugged. “Yeah. D’you like it?”

“Like it?” The grin that took over his mouth was slow and beautiful. “Honey, I want you to call me whatever you want.” He cupped your face in his hand, brushing his thumb along your cheekbone. “But I don’t just like it. I love it.”

You grinned back at him, turning to nip at his thumb, and he laughed. “Ok, cowboy.” He thrust his hips down and you felt his cock, still hard, as it pushed against your hip. “About time we took care of you, now, yeah?” You kissed his palm and met his eye. He smiled.

“You think I ain’t been enjoying myself? Almost came, watching you fall apart on my fingers, you know.” You smiled back at him. “Been thinking about this, since that time in your office. How good it would feel to have you under me. Been dreaming about this pussy.” You gasped as he shifted his hips to the right and nudged lightly at your slit with his cock.

“M— me, too, Joel,” you sighed. “Your cock felt so good against me in my office, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Wanting it.”

“Sweetheart, you can have this cock whenever you want. It’s yours.” He thrust against you again, and the head of his cock brushed up your slit again, not quite nudging inside. You moaned. “Nowhere else it wants to be, except inside you. Shit.” He muttered the last word as the tip of his cock breached your folds, tapping lightly against your clit. Your mouth fell open and you tried to open your legs for him, but he was straddling you, keeping you from giving him any more room. “Shit, honey, you feel that?” He nudged forward, and the head of his cock nudged against your clit again. You keened. “Yeah, you do. Fuck.” He moved his hips lightly back and forth, barely any distance at all, but it felt like more as the hard head of his cock pressed repeatedly against your clit. You were so sensitive, but he was being so careful, so soft. “How is this already so fucking good?” He whispered the question, but you felt it too.

He hovered there for what felt like hours. It was working you up, this slow, soft touch, this barely there connection. His warm cock, not even all the way inside your folds, not even inside you, just nudging you, stoking your fire. “Shit,” you breathed. “Joel, I—” you opened your eyes, not realizing you’d closed them, to find him holding himself up with his face right above yours. Your mouth was hanging open.

“Mmm, honey,” he answered, watching you. “You look gorgeous like this.” He nudged forward again, and you sighed. “Can’t believe how good you feel under me, how pretty you are, how amazing—” he thrust forward again and you both moaned. You were panting. “I think we need to get a condom, baby, before we get carried away.” He winked at you as he said it and you managed a laugh.

“I’m on birth control, Joel.” His hips stuttered forward.

“Shit, you mean—” you nodded and he froze, before pressing down to kiss you deeply. The head of his cock rested against your clit and was squeezed between you as his weight bore down. You opened your mouth and he licked inside, frantic. “Fuck, yes, ok. Fuck. It’s been… well, ages since I've had any sex, darlin’, and even longer since I had it bare.”

You shivered. “Me too, Joel.” He nodded and lifted himself back up.

You bit your lip, looking up at him. He watched, tracing your lips with his thumb, eyes traveling over your face. He opened his mouth to say something (something absolutely devastatingly hot, if recent evidence was any guide), but you didn’t let him say it. You shoved, suddenly, at his chest, and the surprised look on his face made you grin. You followed through and pushed him over, turning him so you landed on top, straddling his hips this time. He froze for a moment, lying on his back, stunned. You were looking down at him, grinning triumphantly, and so you watched his face change from shock to viciously turned on. “You’re so fucking hot, honey, fuck.”

He reached out to grasp your hips and squeezed, pulling you down to sit firmly on top of him. He pulled you down right on his cock, and you threw your head back. “Mmm, Joel,” you murmured as your pussy slid right over his hard cock.

“Yeah? Feel good, baby?” He urged your hips forward and back, sliding you over his length. “You feel amazing on my cock, just like I knew you would. So warm and soft and wet.” He sighed and thrust his hips upwards. “You want to sit on it, honey? Take me inside? Let me open you up? Let me fill you up with this cock? Gonna fit so nice in there, honey, so tight. A perfect fit.” His words were washing over you again, so heady, so dirty.

You didn’t know if you’d have pegged Joel as a dirty talker before this date but fuck, you couldn’t imagine him any other way, now. He was so fucking good at it.

“Yes, Joel,” you breathed. “Please, I wanna sit on it.”

He smiled at you and squeezed your hips as he tugged you down again. You felt his cock slide deeper against you, head nudging at your clit like it had been just a moment before, only now his entire length nestled right inside your folds. It was perfect. “Shh, honey, I’ll give it to you. I’ll give you whatever you want.”

He urged your hips upwards with his hands, and you followed, lifting yourself up. You gasped as you felt the tip of his cock move down through your folds, almost where you wanted it. You looked down and met his eyes again. His mouth was open, watching you, as he shifted your hips forward just a bit. It was just enough to align his cock perfectly as it slid lower and lower until it notched, like a key into a lock, right at your entrance. Your breath caught.

“Look at you,” Joel murmured. He held you up, right over his cock, about to sink down. “So fucking gorgeous.” He loosened his grip suddenly and your hips slid down before you could catch yourself, sliding the tip of his cock just inside of you. You released your breath on a sigh. “Fuck”, the word erupted from him. “Goddamn, honey. You’re pressing on me so tight,” his tongue slid along his lower lip as he loosened his grip again, letting you slip down just a little further. The head of his cock suddenly fully inside of you, so wide, so hot, it made your head spin.

“Joel—”

“Yeah, sweetheart. Let me in. Open up for me, baby, just like that. Fuck.” And inch by inch, that’s what you did — your legs were trembling, and his hands held you up and let you slide down, bit by bit, splitting you open, until your pussy came flush with his pelvis. “Shit, you’re taking me so well, honey.” You sat there, chest heaving, feeling every inch of him inside of you, warm and hard and just fucking right. You’d never felt so full in your goddamn life. “Good fucking girl, sitting on this cock. Look so pretty up there. So sexy.” You smiled, and shifted your hips just slightly. You both moaned. “Can’t believe how good your cunt feels, honey. Like it was made for this cock.” You hummed at the idea. You liked it.

You slid your hands forward on Joel’s chest until they were resting under his collarbones, and used the leverage to lift your hips, just a bit. Your mouth fell open at the feeling and your eyes locked with his. “Fuck yeah, baby, take what you want.” He watched as you did just that, lifting yourself up until just the head of his cock was inside you, and then sinking back down to take him fully. You stopped for just a moment, looking at each other, before your breath hitched and you did it again. And again. And again.

Joel groaned, and released the grip of his right hand on your hip to move it to the back of your neck. “C’mere, gorgeous,” he muttered, pulling you down into a searing kiss. You gasped into it, and he took the opportunity to sink his tongue into your mouth again. His left hand urged you to keep up the movement of your hips, drawing his cock in and out of you. Your legs shook and felt like jelly, though, and suddenly you sank against his chest. “Mm, tired, honey?” You laughed, and buried your face in his neck. He rubbed his hands up and down your back. “Why don’t you let me take over from here?”

With no other warning, Joel flipped you, cock sliding out of you as he arranged you underneath him, and then immediately sliding back inside of you as he held your legs open. You gasped. “Shit,” he whispered, “that’s it.” Joel started to roll his hips, thrusting his cock inside of you, and you sank your hands into his hair as you pulled him back into a kiss. He reached down and tilted your hips upwards, and the new angle had his cock hitting something deep inside you that made you whine in response.

“Yeah, honey, that’s it.” He repeated, striking a rhythm that sent you spiraling, moaning his name. “Give me one more. That’s my good girl, yeah? Give me one more.” You shook your head, not sure you could, even though his cock felt so good inside of you, but he pressed a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I know you can do it, sweetheart. My good girl can do it, can’t she? So good for me, honey.” His pace was relentless, working you over, and then he reached his right hand down in between you to gently rub at your clit, matching the same rhythm as his thrusts.

You sobbed out your next breath, and he pressed gentle kisses across your cheek.

“That’s right, my gorgeous girl, you can do it. Let me have it. Let me see it again.” He breathed his praises into your neck and the competing sensations of the softness with his mouth and the absolutely devastating way he was fucking you overwhelmed your senses. “C’mon. Do it for me.”

And you did – one more time, one more orgasm ripped through your senses and crashed into you. You sobbed his name, one single, resounding, “Joel,” as you came. He groaned, and his hips stuttered.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” His rhythm picked up, and you knew he was close. “So fucking beautiful when you come, fuck. You feel so fucking perfect. So hot so tight so wet I’m gonna— shit, I’m gonna—” And it was your turn to watch him come, to watch the pleasure wash over him as he emptied inside of you. His face was beautiful as his mouth formed the shape of your name, whispering it reverently as he came. You blinked, watching it, unable to look away.

Joel’s hips stilled, and his forehead came down slowly to rest against your own. You were both breathing heavily, chests touching every time you breathed in, nipples brushing against his chest sending daggers of sensation through you. You were exhausted, and spent, and worn out, and happier than you could remember being in a long time. You could feel him everywhere, feel the joy everywhere, down to your toes.

Joel breathed deeply and then murmured, low and sweet, “honey, you are so fucking amazing.” He kissed your cheek. “Can’t believe I caught your eye, somehow. Can’t believe you’re here with me.”

You smiled, but laughed. “Can’t believe it?” You tilted your hips a bit and you both gasped at the sensation of him moving inside of you, no longer hard but still very much present.

He chuckled. “‘M trying to say sweet things to you, you little troublemaker.” You hummed. “Trying to tell you that’s the best night I’ve ever had, no contest. To tell you I can’t wait to take you on another date, and ten more after that. A hundred.” He kissed you right at the corner of your eye, and then on your nose, which made you laugh again. “To beg you to stay the night, because all I want is to hold you in my arms as long as I can.”

You cleared your throat, overwhelmed. “Those are, um, those are pretty sweet things, Joel.” He pressed his smile into your cheek again. You wanted to reciprocate but he had fucked all of your thoughts right out of your head, so you settled for agreement. “I’m not going anywhere, cowboy. You’ll have to kick me out.” He grinned and pressed another soft kiss to the corner of your mouth.

…

you (1:17 AM): staying the night 😇

bestie (1:18 AM): !!! (1:18 AM): text me when you wake up or else (1:18 AM): and tell me all about it tomorrow (1:19 AM): and by it I mean 🍆

you (1:19 AM): i will 🙄

...

a/n: see you next Friday 🥰 Poems quoted in this chapter:

From Ross Gay’s Spring section of “Letters from Two Gardens”: https://orionmagazine.org/article/letters-from-two-gardens/ From e. e. cummings: https://allpoetry.com/i-like-my-body-when-it-is-with-your

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