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#smarmy babies
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PSA - Also found a copy of 77 Sunset Strip, “88 Bars.” Again, this is downloadable on seriesvault for anyone interested.
@citizenkampbell, some French cuffs for you. 😋
@cheer-deforest-kelley have you seen this one?
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wander-over-the-words · 6 months
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Have I ever told y'all how much I love Benny's concept art?
cause I fuckin love Benny's concept art
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creatureswallows · 10 months
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FIRST SHOT AND HES SHIRTLESS LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOO
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luveline · 4 months
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hiii jade!! are you planning to do any pregnant!reader x sirius
don't mind me i'm a sucker for sirius fluff 🤭
Sirius blows into your ear gently. “You’re falling asleep.” 
You’ve moved into his lap like a cheap tent badly pitched. Your neck hurts, your face against your own shoulder, but the brunt of your weight held up by your antagoniser. Sirius doesn’t complain about your elbow in his stomach or your cheek on his chest, but his embrace isn’t free, clearly. It comes with teasing. 
“I’m not.” 
“You are, my love.” 
You tamp down a full body shiver. How nice it is to be so warm and be held so closely. His arms encircle your front firmly but casual all the same. He never seems shy about anything.
“Do I look bulbous?” you question.
James hears it from the kitchen table. “Afraid so!” 
“No,” Sirius says, ignoring his cruel friend. He brings his hand to your stomach and covers as much of your bump as he can, which isn’t much. “Stupid question.” 
“Are you going to come and help at any point, mate?” James calls. “Or shall I install your cabinets by myself?” 
“In a minute, Prongs!” He kisses your cheek. “My girl needs a minute, don’t you?” 
“I’m okay.” 
Sirius hums and shifts you closer to his chest. He’s been even sweeter than usual lately. You worried it might freak you out if he was going to keep treating you like a fragile, breakable thing, even give you a smarmy feeling —you’re pregnant, not incapable. But it’s all been well-received. Honestly, you could do with more moments like this, but you won’t tell him that, and he won’t hold it over your head that he knows. 
“He can do it himself anyways. I just hold the screws.” Sirius touches your stomach. “How’s the kicking?” 
“You can feel it if you go a little higher.” 
“Yeah?” His hand climbs slowly upward, waiting for the little kicks. He presses down firmly, the only sign he’s felt your baby’s movements a catch in his breath. “There he is. Oh, fuck, he’s really going for it tonight. Jesus Christ.” 
“It’s fine. I like him kicking like that. Less pressure on everything else.” 
Sirius grins and draws a line under the kicks with a proud hand. “You need anything before I go help the nuisance?” he asks. 
You tip your head back, pouting for a kiss you receive in less than a second. He’s rough in his way, gentle as he moves back and chucks you under the chin. “Get off me, then,” he says. 
You laugh and flop onto your side. He pats your hip as he goes, not going far.
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hgfictionwriter · 2 months
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Teasing
Jessie Fleming x Reader
Summary: Jessie's not a particularly jealous person, but when it comes to you, well, things are different. You and Jessie are missing each other while Jessie's out with the team and you're at an event.
A/N / Warning: Inspiration finally struck again. The usual warnings still apply - smut, language, etc.. Hope you all enjoy! Oh, and I defaulted back to Jessie being with Chelsea. I'll switch over eventually!
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gif credit to @glimmerofawesome
"How's your night going, beautiful?" Jessie blocked out the din of the bar she and the team were in as she sent you a text.
"It's fine. Missing you, wish you were here. How's your night?"
"It's okay. Pretty boring, but I've still gotta stay for a while longer. You know, fulfill my social duty and all."
"Too bad. I'm heading out soon. I hate these networking events. I've dealt with enough drunk flirting for one night."
Jessie sat up a bit in her seat, eyes narrowing at her phone. "Sorry, what?" She typed out.
"You know. Smarmy partners from out of town getting a bit too confident after a few drinks. I'm okay - please don't worry, but yeah, promises of dancing and a good time despite me explicitly saying I have a girlfriend. A gorgeous and wonderful one, at that."
Jessie's chest tightened and burned as she read the message. You were beautiful and charming, so it was really no surprised that someone would hit on you. Still, she didn't have to like it.
"Well, I'm glad you're leaving. I'm sorry you had to deal with that. Hopefully it hasn't been too bad."
"As if you're a stranger to being flirt with lol. I've seen the way the girls look at you ;) I mean, I should know, I'm one of them. But no, it's all good. Like I said, just makes me miss you."
"Well, text me when you're home so I know you made it safe. And get away from all those lecherous girls (and guys?). I don't like hearing about them looking at my girl ;)"
"I know, baby. Believe me, when their eyes were raking over me, all I thought about was you and the way you look at me when you're on top of me."
Jessie's eyes widened momentarily as her head snapped up to look around, suddenly very aware of everyone around her. Thankfully, everyone seemed mostly preoccupied. Before she could think beyond the visual of pinning you to the bed beneath her, her phone buzzed again.
"They don't know how good you fuck me. They don't know how good you make me feel."
"Fuck," Jessie whispered before she could stop herself. The feeling that went through her was instantaneous. She fidgeted in her seat, eyes darting around self-consciously before tapping out a reply.
"Jesus christ, baby girl." Send. "What are you trying to do to me?" She exhaled shakily and tried to ignore the heat she felt rising to her cheeks.
"What do you mean?"
She smirked. You knew damn well what you were doing.
"Babe."
"I mean, I guess it wouldn't hurt to stay out longer. Go dancing."
Jessie's grip tightened subconsciously on her phone as her eyes bore into the characters on the screen.
"Well then I'm coming there." Jessie rapidly typed out her reply, holding back the desire to write "Not without me, you're not." Jessie didn't consider herself a controlling person, she trusted you and you were both secure in your relationship together, but well, you just had a way of working her up. The thought of someone else wanting you, touching you, having you - she knew it was all harmless, but it drove her crazy nonetheless.
"Yeah? And what?"
Jessie looked around again before responding.
"And I'll make sure the only person who's grinding on you is me."
"Mm, baby. I love when you get like this."
A smirk tugged at the corner of Jessie's mouth.
"Your hips against mine. I'll move your hair to the side and kiss down your neck, my hand on your back and pulling you close to me." Jessie bit her lip briefly. "And if you're good, I'll lead you by the hand to the bathroom and fuck you. Your cum pooling in my hand as you tighten around me."
"Oh my fucking God, Jess. You're so hot. You've nearly got me touching myself in the back of this cab. I can picture you next to me, your hand moving up my thigh. I'd give anything to have your fingers inside of me."
Jessie exhaled again, looking around the room as she steeled herself. She checked the time on her phone.
"Baby, please. I need you so bad already. I want you on top of me."
Jessie's eyes scanned the text before she locked her screen again. This was getting out of hand. It buzzed once more.
"Show me I'm yours. I wanna scream your name."
"Hey, you okay?"
Jessie startled, nearly jumping out of her seat as her head snapped up to see Niamh looking at her with concern.
"Oh! Yeah, yeah," she nodded, doing her damnedest to seem nonchalant. She grimaced a bit. "I'm just not feeling that good. My head's pounding." She really should try to stay longer...but fuck it. "I think I'm gonna go."
"Oh okay, well, feel better. I'll see you at practice tomorrow?" Niamh asked as she gave Jessie's shoulder a squeeze.
"Yeah, for sure. I'm gonna go - you can let people know if they ask, right?"
"Don't worry. Rest up."
Jessie gave a half-hearted smile and wave and was out the door.
"Where are you?"
"On my way home. I'm so wet for you. I need to do something about it."
"Fuck," Jess breathed again. She typed, "I'm headed home, too. My baby needs me to take care of her."
"You have no idea. No one makes me feel like you do."
"They better not." She replied simply, biting her tongue on the matter as she climbed into the back of the car.
"Well, I guess you better get home soon and show me who this pussy belongs to."
Jessie exhaled sharply before readjusting her position. The tension that was mounting between her legs kept her from sitting still. Her mind was racing with thoughts and images of the two of you together. She needed you. She wanted to take you. And even with how much she loved and respected you, she wanted to claim you.
She rolled out her shoulders and gripped her knee tightly as she tried to relax.
Time went by achingly slowly as you sent teasing message after teasing message. Your messages were exhilarating, but taunting at times. It only made matters worse when her phone buzzed showing a phone call from you. She swallowed as she picked up.
"Hi, my love," your voice came through from the other end of the line. Jessie gulped once more as her nails dug into her leg again. "Don't say anything. I just got home. I'm getting undressed and I'm getting ready for you. Here - listen." Jessie's eyes fluttered shut and her jaw dropped as sounds of your wetness filled her head. Her eyes only opened again when your voice filtered back in. "That's how much I need you. It's all for you."
"I love you so much," Jessie said as she bundled her shirt in a fist, loss for words otherwise and desperate for some kind of release.
"I love you too, baby," you replied softly. "I can't wait until you fill me up."
Jessie's mouth fell agape once more. The craziest part of it all is that you were nearly as reserved as she was in day to day life. The fact that you were like this with her and her alone made her feel like she was on top of the world. She'd allowed you into a special place in her heart, in her being, and you'd done the same for her. Nothing could be better.
By the time the cab pulled up in front of your apartment, Jessie felt like she might burst out of her skin.
She took the stairs two at a time as she ascended the stairwell up to where you were waiting. She grunted in frustration as she fumbled with the keys before the lock turned and she threw the door open. Her gaze was immediately drawn to the light coming from your room down the hall. She'd taken off her shirt and thrown it aside and was already undoing her jeans by the time she rounded the doorframe to see you lying on the bed, head thrown back, fingers massaging your clit.
"Fuck, babe," Jessie breathed as she quickly finished undressing and climbed up onto the bed, immediately grasping your hand and giving you a kiss on the back of it before pushing your legs back and tasting you.
You let out a cry at the touch and placed your hand on the back of Jessie's head as she began to lap up your juices.
"Oh my god, baby," you moaned, hips gyrating up into her mouth. "I love you. I needed you so bad. Oh my god."
She moaned in appreciation as her lips closed around your clit and she sucked hard at the sensitive bud. She smiled as your hips jerked at the action.
"You taste so good," she mumbled as her tongue trailed up and down between your folds. "And you're all mine." She grinned again as your fingers tightened in her hair.
"No one else's," you affirmed in a breathy voice, followed up by another moan as she flicked her tongue across your clit. She continued to devour you and it wasn't long before your cries filled the room. "Don't stop," you pleaded as you gripped her hair tightly and began to cum. She moaned deeply as your legs flexed around her head and she continued to lap up your juices like it was the only thing that mattered in this world.
When your legs finally relaxed and your hips fell back down to the bed, she laid one more kiss on your lips before wiping her chin and climbing up your body. As she did, ran two fingers along your folds and grinned at the small cry you let out as your hands gripped her biceps. She leaned down and whispered in your ear as her fingers traced around your entrance.
"You still want me to fill you up, baby?" She nipped at your earlobe. "Make your pussy mine all over again? Make sure you keep thinking of me and only me anytime someone else wants you?"
"Oh god," you moaned in need as you writhed beneath her.
"Do you want me, baby?" She asked softly as her fingers continued to tease you.
"Always," you whimpered. "Oh god, Jess. Please, I need you inside me."
She wrapped her free arm around your back and leaned down to tenderly kiss your jawline.
"You're the only one for me," she said before sinking her fingers deep inside of you. Your breath caught in your throat and she bit down on your collarbone, stopping herself before it got to be too much.
"Fuck, you feel so amazing," she breathed in reverie. "You feel incredible every time." She shook her head as she slowly pulled out and moved back in. "God, so tight."
You didn't hold back, your moans filling the room as Jessie began to pick up her pace. "You feel so good inside me, Jess." You clutched her to you. "You fill me perfectly."
Jessie growled in approval as she began to fuck you harder. Even if you hadn't laid a finger on her, she was dizzy with pleasure from knowing how good she made you feel and to know it was because of her - no one else - her.
"Baby, you're perfect for me," she praised as she took you in.
A night out with her team, fan adoring her and flirting with her, she didn't need it - all she wanted was to be with you right now. To be the one to take you high and over the edge. To fall asleep with you, wake up with you and breathe you in.
Your grip tightened on her and your cries rose in pitch. She kissed your neck tenderly.
"Go ahead, baby. I'm here, I won't let go," she coaxed you as your sounds echoed off the walls and you began to tighten around her fingers.
Her name fell from your lips as your whole body tensed up and all the pleasure building inside of you released. You were vaguely aware of the whimpers that came from her as she bucked against you and pulled you ever closer.
As you drifted down from your orgasm, she slowly and gently kissed up your neck and face. Your mind and body finally calmed and she reached your lips. She gave you a soft kiss coupled with a sly grin.
"Hi," she said. You were still catching your breath, but managed to nod and return a lazy smile.
"Hi," you chuckled. You brought your hands up to cup her face and kissed her again, deeper this time. She returned it earnestly, grazing a thumb across your cheekbone. You smiled once more and gave her a soft peck. "Thanks for coming home. I missed you."
She laughed and kissed your cheek. "I missed you, too. Could you tell?"
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cosmal · 1 year
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okay tasm!peter parker thought!!! he’s obsessed with touching your face. like, when you’re talking about something he’ll just randomly grab your face and smoosh your cheeks. he’ll boop or kiss your nose at random times. most importantly, when he’s kissing you he’ll be holding your face, his big hands on your cheeks guiding your head so he can kiss you better. omg
doughnuts
summary you're really excited about doughnuts. peter really wants to kiss you.
content tasm!peterparker x fem!afab!reader
note this is my first time writing for tasm!peter please forgive me if it sucks.
For the first time in a while, you come home after work with enough excitement to light up the entire flat.
Peter's sitting up in his bed reading when you find him. All things soft with rumpled hair, his clothes even worse, reading glasses perched on the end of his nose. You're not sure if he really needs them anymore, but he likes to wear them to keep an ounce of normalcy.
"Hi," you chirp when he notices you. He dog-ears his book and puts it down almost immediately. You beam.
"Hi, baby," he seems just as happy to see you as you do him. Though, there's a buzz to you that Pete lacks. You think if you got home twenty minutes later he would've been napping.
You move across his room while pushing your work skirt down your legs. Peter's heart skips when it looks like you might trip and he tries to keep his eyes off your soft thighs. You rifle through his draws to find one of his shirts to wear, unbuttoning your own blouse in the process.
"How was your day?" you ask, holding up a shirt to your nose. You choose it because it smells more like your boyfriend than the others.
Peter crumples his face, trying not to laugh. "It was good. Didn't do much - you?"
You say something while pulling the shirt over your face that Pete can't discern. You all but jump into his lap when you reach him. Hooking your thighs over his lap until you're face to face.
He allows you to get comfy, pushing your knees into his side while he sits up, hands finding their place on your hips. "Hello," he says again, much quieter now that you're in his space. You look adorable in his shirt and your work tights.
"Did you hear me?" you ask, basically pulsing with giddy energy. You push your fingers under the hem of his shirt and he short-circuits for a moment.
He blinks. "You had your face in your shirt."
"Right," you giggle, a girlish sound that Peter wants seared in his brain, "I said, you know the food truck around the block?"
"You'll have to be more specific," he says, squeezing at your hips.
"The one that shut down."
"Oh, right. The Jam Van," he laughs knowingly. You'd moped for almost a month when they closed. You were inconsolable.
"Yeah," you grin, poking his chest, "yeah, they reopened!"
You're smiling so hard Peter worries that you'll get stuck like that. With your eyebrows raised and your cheeks appled. He thinks he needs to hold your face like right now.
He lets his hands leave your hips and raises them to hold your cheeks. Your skin is warm under his touch like he expected. "That's great, baby."
You ignore his hands. "Right? It's amazing."
Peter pushes your cheeks together until your lips pout outwards. He thinks you look extremely cute. Even worse when you try to frown and it just looks like a smooshed mess. He wants to laugh but you look peeved.
"Pete," you try to say. It comes out all mumbled.
"Yeah?" he says, distracted by your puffy face.
You pull your face from his hands and struggle a bit. Holding his arms to his chest you say, "Are you even listening to me?"
"The Jam Van," he says nodding. Smarmy.
"Right," you say, still mildly upset, "they're open right now if you wanna..."
"You wanna go get doughnuts?" he asks with his arms still pinned to his body. His hands wriggle to touch you.
"Can we?" you ask, eyes wide with hope. Peter wishes he had his camera with him.
"Can I kiss you first?" he grins boyishly. You wish you had a better resolve. He's awfully pretty and you really want doughnuts.
You let his arms go, huffing like kissing him is a difficult task. "If you really want." You have to hold back a laugh.
He reaches his hands back up to your cheeks and gives them another squeeze, "Of course, I want to."
You let him guide your face down to meet his lips, huffing into his mouth once they meet. You go lax in his lap when he presses firmer, spreading his fingers over your warming cheeks. He tilts your face upwards so he has better access to slip his tongue in your mouth. You whine when he has you exactly where he wants. Putty in his hold, holding you close by your soft cheeks.
You pull away from his lips, blinking away the dizziness. "Pete," you say panting.
Peter licks his lips, "Yeah?"
You push your face into his neck to hide the way he so obviously makes you feel, holding onto his sleep shirt for dear life. You try to even out your breathing and fail.
"You okay, love?" he asks. There's a hint of smartassery you don't miss. He's awful.
"Yeah," you say a tad breathlessly. "Yeah."
He kisses your shoulder and you shudder. His ego swells tenfold. "You sure?"
You take a moment to compose yourself, hating yourself for being so pliable. You sit back to look him in the eye. "So," you say with a confidence you lack, "Jam Van?"
Peter laughs and catches your face again. You like it much more than the first time. "That felt like coercion ."
"You asked to kiss me!" you say bewildered, pushing at his chest with not enough force than you feel is deserved.
"You tricked me," he laughs with you, letting you paw at his chest. It's quite adorable, really.
"Whatever," you say with more heat than you mean, a smile tugging at your red lips. You untangle yourself from his lap and stand to walk away. "I'll get my own jam doughnuts."
Peter smacks your ass before you can get away and you gasp. "Peter Parker!"
"You can't go out like that."
"I'll do what I like!" you call from the other end of the hallway.
Peter chases you around the flat until he gets you in his arms. The doughnuts wait for a few more hours.
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anisespice · 3 months
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“ block boy ” || tokyo rev.
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parings: bonten x fem!reader [ mikey, kaku, sanzu, rin, ran ]
warnings: mature content ahead. MDI. cursing, mentions of violence, blood, pregnancy mentioned in ran’s, a lot of down bad behavior on both ends lol and i think that’s it.
notes: i pledge allegiance to doechii, and the absolute banger of a song that is “what it is”. literally the first thing i thought of was bonten and couldn’t get ‘em out of my head unless i wrote something down sooo here ya go lol 
notes ii: basically times where you pulled their weight when they least expected you to/when they’re not around. called the shots, took some shots, beat someone up, defended them, loving on them, stuff like this (•3•>)
tagged: @fantasycantasy, @illegalspacecow, @captaincyberqueen
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“Did the severity of the situation finally click in your thick skulls, or do I have to waste more of my breath spelling it out for you?”
When MIKEY returned from his much needed evening snooze in the break room you threatened sweetly advised him to take after working for 17 hours straight, he was expecting to return to the shitstorm he left behind. However, when he entered his office, to his muted surprise there you were, in the middle of berating a handful of subordinates nearly twice your size, all shrunk within themselves as your sharp tone pierced through them all. He stood in the doorway with a curious gaze, head tilted ever so slightly as he made sure to keep quiet so not to notify you of his presence.
Mikey took note of your hip popped outward, balled fist rested upon it in the stance he knew all too well whenever you were on your last nerve. Knowing what those idiots did, someone was bound to stumble outta there in tears; your fury wasn’t for the weak.
You eyed the group with raised brows, expectant. “Well?”
One member was brave, or stupid enough to actually answer. He hesitated, but cleared his throat and replied, “I-It was an honest mistake…we thought the product was secured in the truck already when we made the exchange, b-but-”
“B-B—Bullshit. You were given specific instructions to check the inventory to make sure those smarmy assholes weren’t trying pull a fast one, and you were too careless to do a full sweep. You failed abortions not only made Bonten look like complete amateurs, but you added more nonsense for my man to deal with all because you didn’t check the back of the goddamn trucks!”
You flung the clipboard you were holding at the guy’s head, making them all duck around to avoid getting hit, only one unlucky sucker wasn’t as quick as the wooden projectile got him right in the nose. He yelped, no doubt it was broken with the sheer amount of force you put in the throw. Mikey barely flinched, but he did blink a few times in astonishment.
“You’re gonna hunt those fuckers down like dogs and make right of your ‘mistake’ by the end of today, or I’m gonna have Sanzu chop you into pieces and throw you in the Shinano River-!” Mikey cleared his throat.
You swiftly looked over your shoulder at the noise, mood doing a complete 180 when you locked eyes with the object of your affection, skittering over to wrap him in your arms. “Oh! Jiro, baby, I didn’t hear you come in.”
“‘s okay..” he leaned into your warmth, eyes hooded as he graced you with a faint, sleepy grin. “Didn’t want to interrupt your.. meeting. Seemed serious.”
You playfully rolled your eyes. “Just doing a little ‘housekeeping’ until you got enough rest, that’s all.”
He slowly nodded, lips pursed. “Could’ve sworn I pay good money for people to do that for me.”
“You do, but I was already here. Figured it was more productive to handle it myself rather than waste time looking for someone available. Besides, had to make sure you didn’t try to sneak your narrow butt back in here to continue working—We both know I’m the only one around here who can keep you in check.”
He couldn’t argue with that.
“Mm.. can’t say you don’t fill the role of boss rather nicely. It suits you. Should have you do it more often.”
Though you were sure he was teasing you, you couldn’t help but feel yourself grow warm at his praise. You lightly hit his arm, bashful. How this was the same woman who struck fear in a room full of criminals was beyond comprehension, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Speaking of which.. Mikey couldn’t help but notice the said group of subordinates silently begging for him to reconsider in his peripheral, hands clasped in prayer while the one with the busted nose bowed deeply to the floor, forehead to hardwood. It was as if the idea of you being in charge any longer brought them great despair. How interesting.
Huffing through his nose, Mikey placed a loving kiss on your forehead whilst eyeing the group behind majority of his stress for the day, void of any remorse as he coldly spoke.
“Matter of fact.. think ‘m still feeling a little tired, angel. How about you handle another hour f’me? Or two?”
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The silence was deafening as the dual-color eyed man avoided looking at you while you stitched him up without a word. When you were greeted by a bleeding KAKUCHO at your doorstep a little past midnight, pale in the face and could barely stand, there were no questions asked as you quickly escorted him into your home, setting him gently on the couch before you sprung for your first aid in the kitchen. He wasn’t sure what he could say in that moment, feeling like a complete moron for even showing up looking like he fled a crime scene which he kinda did but that’s besides the point. Your relationship was still in the budding phase, just starting to get a feel of one another as you tested the waters.
Well, consider the waters tested.
“You’re not really an undercover cop, are you?”
Kakucho gulped. He slowly shook his head, eyes trained on his lap while yours felt like they were burning holes right through him. You nodded as you continued carefully stitching him up. It wasn’t the best, but it would hold him over until he got proper medical attention. At first, he figured that would be all you said to him. But, when you completed dressing the wound, you asked a follow up question. “It’s something illegal, isn’t it?”
He couldn’t bring himself to answer, his strained grip on his pant leg enough response. Kakucho half expected you to berate him, curse him for potentially endangering your life, for lying.
“.. forgive me..” he croaked, bowing his head.
He felt sick to his stomach, he couldn’t bear the thought of you despising him, but he’d honor your wishes without protest if you never wanted to see him again…
However, what he didn’t expect was for you cup the sides of his face and bring his wavering gaze to your soft one. You smiled endearingly at the bewilderment that overcame his ashamed expression, him blinking at you widely with tears hanging onto his lashes like a wounded puppy. Your thumb ghosted over the tiny droplets, careful not to aggravate the bruise forming around the socket.
Leaning forward to shower him with tender kisses, Kakucho was at a crossroad—One side wanted nothing more than to melt into a puddle of goo, but the other refused to believe that he wasn’t hallucinating, waiting for the sick twisted punchline of this dream come true. Feeling him still so tense in your hold, you leaned back with your smile still present.
“This doesn’t change how I feel about you, Hitto.”
Kakucho blinked. Then, he meekly replied. “W-what?”
You coyly tilted your head, “To be honest, I always figured there was something…off about you. Like, you were holding something back. My first guess was that you were seeing other women-”
“Never.” His eyes switched from uncertain to stern in a matter of seconds, as if the implication alone repulsed him. He softened once you giggled at his declaration, patting his leg in reassurance.
“I know. You’re much too sweet to be a player. I pondered over it for a while, thought back to how we usually met up late at night, or you would have to leave at odd times. My second guess was your work just kept you really busy.. and after tonight.. after all of this,” you gestured at the blood stains everywhere, “safe to say I was on the right track.”
Kakucho hesitated. “And that doesn’t…put you off?”
“That you’re a thug?” He winced, but nodded. The silence that followed behind was borderline suffocating, leaving his hands sweaty and nerves shot as he anticipated your response with baited breath. But, he didn’t need to worry.
With a loving coo, you placed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, right over the split in his lip causing him to flinch slightly at the sting, but he welcomed the affection all the same. However, when your warm tongue peeked out to soothe the cut in slow, teasing swipes, homie nearly choked.
Kaku’s jaw fluttered open as a soft gasp escaped him next, the sensation foreign but not unpleasant as he felt his entire face heat up like a furnace. Your sudden proximity forced him back on the couch while you slid down to the floor betwixt his spread legs, making his head spin; this wasn’t going like how he thought it would at all. Being careful of his stitches, your arms rested on either side of him as your tongue explored his mouth, making him groan softly at the feeling of the wet muscle tangling around his so earnestly, hand reaching up instinctively to caress the side of your face as he deepened the kiss. His other hand held your waist, gripping your shirt as if he couldn’t believe you were there—That you wanted to stay.
The ravenette’s breath hitched when he felt one of your hands trailing up his thigh, slowly but surely making your way to his stiffening cock confined in his pants. Slightly startled, Kakucho pulled back from the heated kiss, a string of saliva still keeping you connected as you panted in each other’s mouths. Before he could question what you were up to, he cuts himself off with a whimper when you palmed his thick shaft while maintaining intense eye contact, a smile on your face as you sent the gangster into paradise when you sweetly whispered:
“Always wanted to be a ride or die.”
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It was as if someone pushed him into an alternate dimension.
Not even moments ago, you were showing SANZU a cute tiktok of a kitten wrapped up like a burrito and mewing dramatically, nearly tearing up at the sight as you tugged on his arm and pleaded for him to buy you one just like it. Having bought out the entire evening in one of Tokyo’s most exclusive five star restaurants for your anniversary, Sanzu figured it’d be nothing more than a simple night with his lovely wife. Man’s must’ve forgot who he was.
When those fools tried an ambush on him, Sanzu was more than happy dealing with them quickly by just airing them out until his gun was empty. Although, as he went reaching for it, imagine his shock when you held his wrist to stop him. You had a different sentiment.
It was like a scene out of one of his most crazed fantasies. His lovely wife, holding his beloved katana to an enemy’s throat, covered in the blood of his comrades as he sobbed pathetically for you to spare him. As if Beatrix Kiddo entered the chat, you sliced into them with a swiftness, shredding through them all like paper; a dinner and a show. He wasn’t sure when you learned how to wield the weapon with such grace and precision, but he couldn’t care less when his pants were this fucking tight. But he couldn’t let you have all the fun, watching your six any time a goon tried to get the jump on you while your back was turned, Sanzu was quick to bust a cap right between their eyes. After spilling gallons of blood from the opposition, leaving one still standing, you decided to play with him a little bit.
“P-Please! I-if you let me go, you’ll never see my face again, I-I swear! I was just..just following orders, I-”
“Oh, c’mon, where’s your conviction from earlier, huh? You were so confident before I minced all your friends. What was it you said you’d do to me once you killed my husband? Can’t seem to put my finger on it…Haru, darling, do you recall?”
Sanzu, with his chin placed atop his interlocked fingers like a smitten fool, smoothly answered, “Said he’d ‘Fuck you raw on top of my corpse’.”
You winked. “Bingo. Thank you, handsome.”
“Welcome, gorgeous.”
The sniveling man yipped when the blade nicked his skin, a thin stream of blood flowing in its wake as you pressed it closer to his throat. His heart rate paced like a rabbit caught in a trap, nostrils flaring as he breathed sporadically while his life laid in the palm of your hand.
“Guess that didn’t go according to plan, aw.” You sardonically cooed, spurring on a bit of rage as he gritted out a dry ‘Fuck you’ in his final efforts of showing dominance. “Oo, there’s that passion we were missing!~ Let’s see how much more I can carve outta yo-”
Hearing the sound of faint sirens in the distance, Sanzu clicked his tongue in annoyance. With a grumble the pinkette popped a piece of his steak in his mouth and spoke between chews as he cocked his gun, “Alright, [_____], playtime’s over. We gotta haul ass.”
You pouted. “But, we didn’t get to fuck on top of his corpse...”
Sanzu swallowed, hard. He couldn’t help but internally groan with desire at your innocent display of vulgarity, tempted to take you up on that offer, but the last thing he wanted was for you to be involved in a standoff with the cops. You’ve proven you can handle yourself very well, a lot more than he realized that’s for sure, but you were still his precious baby at the end of the day.
Better to keep you out of danger than thrust you in more of it, no matter how much the thought excited him.
“Next time, pretty baby.”
You huffed. “Fine.”
Without hesitation, you strummed the man’s throat like a cello, the katana tearing through the skin with ease. The symphony of gurgles that escaped him sent shivers down Sanzu’s spine as he watched in manic glee as the man choked on his own blood. You never looked more stunning covered in red and holding his blade like it belonged in your hand, he wanted nothing more than to ravish you on the spot, but as the sirens drew near he tamed his urges just this once. You took his extended hand gratefully, swaying them as you both rushed for the restaurant’s back exit.
Once outside, while he scoped out the area for any cops patrolling, you nudged him. When he turned to see you beaming at him whilst blood stained your face, he swore his heart skipped a beat. “What?”
“You’re getting me a kitten to make up for this, right, Haru?”
He raised a brow, but exhaled a chuckle. “Sweetheart. Show off that violent side of yours more often, and you can have as many as you want.”
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“You good, ma?” A delightful shiver ran down your spine and straight to your pussy.
That was always the visceral response your body had whenever RINDOU spoke, especially low and intimately in your ear. From either gently waking you first thing in the morning, or to secretly shit-talk in crowed areas, it was his go-to method to getting your attention effortlessly. A dangerous method, one that was about to make you act up in front of all these important clients, decorum be damned.
“I am now,” you purred, falling back into his embrace as strong arms came vining around your waist. He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your temple as he gently swayed you both to the rhythm of the soft jazz playing over the speakers of the ballroom.
“Missed me that bad, huh.” You nodded with a slight pout, turning in his hold to stare up longingly into his eyes. They were lidded, heady. Another dangerous method of your husband’s that made you weak in the knees—his undivided attention. “Bored?”
“So fucking bored,” you whined, tugging on his lapels. “These things are always such a drab..”
Rindou hummed, hands slowly slipping down from your waist to hold your hips. You tensed slightly, not even bothering to mask the second shiver it caused. His grin turned sharp in response, head tilting. “Ya sure that’s what has you so out of it?”
You tilted yours, confused. He continued, “You’re not as subtle as you think you are. You’ve been eye-fucking me for the past ten minutes. Came over to make sure you weren’t dripping all over the damn floor—”
“Shut up,” you jabbed him in the side, face boiling. Rindou barely flinched, squeezing your hips as he snickered cheekily at your embarrassment. “You’re so irking...”
“Yeah?”
“Yes. If you knew I was horny, I could’ve been folded on my back ten minutes ago.”
“Hm, almost as if I was doing something important, like…” he trailed off, making you squint and almost jab him again until he grabbed your hand in the last second, bringing it to his chest with a smug grin, “working.”
You huffed, “I’m important too…do me.”
Rindou snorted, but brought your hand up to gently kiss the inside of your wrist with a tender look in his eyes. “‘course you are, baby. Didn’t know it would go for this long, ‘m sorry.”
“Then, how ‘bout you and I take a little…smoke break,” you suggested, hopeful; desperate. However, it’s futile when your husband clicks his tongue.
“No can do. Kakucho’s still not over the last time we took a ‘smoke break’ together.”
“He’s not? Seriously? We weren’t even gone for that long!”
He raised a brow. “[______]. The check made it back to the table before we did.”
You groaned, exasperated as you wiggled around in his hold. Rindou merely watched in mirth, not even phased as he let you finish your tiny tantrum. He teasingly cooed, “I know, I know. Poor thing can’t go a day without something plugging up her slutty little hole.”
“Shut up..!” You shrunk into his chest to hide away from the sultry words spoken directly in your ear, thighs clenching together as his deep chuckle came soon after.
Rindou was very much aware of your voice kink. It filled his ego to the brim with how needy you were, crumbling anytime he so much as spoke to you in a certain way. There’s nothing he wanted more than to ditch and bury himself in your thighs, giving it to you however you wished, for as long as you wished, whispering praises to you with a sprinkle of degradation in there to keep you craving for more of his soothing voice. But, unless he wanted his nuts handed to him on a silver platter by his stickler of a superior, you were just gonna have to wait.
And he knew how much you hated doing that.
“Ten minutes.”
He sighed. “[_____]…”
“Five minutes?”
“We can’t-“
“A minute, god, I don’t even have to finish, Rin, please.” You whined in his ear, forcing him to close his eyes as a means to strengthen his resolve. It didn’t do much help when your arms wrapped around his neck to gently rake your manicured nails against the nape, your thigh deliberately rubbing up against the growing erection confined in his dress pants. The tables had turned with a shiver now running down his spine, mind turning to mush as common sense slowly sunk into his dick. Maybe…sparing just a few minutes wouldn’t hurt.
Even though the lavender-haired gangster couldn’t see your face, he was certain you were grinning victoriously at the sound of his resolve breaking instantly, the slow exhale through his nose being all the confirmation necessary. Clearly, you weren’t the only one who was needy.
Swallowing down a groan, he hissed through clenched teeth, “You’re gonna be the death of me, y’know that?”
Giggling, you were already leading him toward the nearest exit, swiftly evading the eyes of his coworkers, satisfied that you were getting exactly what you wanted in the end.
“Better me than Kaku.”
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“Like I’ve already explained to you, Officer. My husband’s been here all day. Dunno if you’ve noticed, but he can’t exactly afford to leave my side for more than ten minuets let alone an entire evening.”
Despite gesturing to your swollen stomach and the small child shyly peering from behind your leg, the cop still fixed you with a skeptical look. You did your best to remain unnerved, providing comfort for not only your son but yourself as you ran your fingers through his hair. Apparently, there had been a shootout that happened in the streets of Tokyo, and apparently a witness was able to describe one of the shooters…
Henceforth, the unexpected visit from law enforcement. Again.
“Mhm. And, may I ask, where exactly your husband is now? Surely if he’s been tending to his pregnant wife, he wouldn’t have her answering the front door.” He raised an eyebrow, wry grin stretched across his face.
You worked your jaw, annoyed. “In the shower.”
“How convenient. Washing off the blood, I assume?”
“You can assume whatever you want, it doesn’t change my answer. He’s been here, with us. Whoever said they saw him was mistaken. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got mouths to feed. Have an evening, Officer.”
“Now, hold on—”
Without an ounce of hesitation, or care, you slammed the door in his smug little face. And just like that…blissful silence. A grand weight lifted off your shoulders at the disgruntled sound of the pig’s flat-footed steps exiting out of your day. Releasing a slow exhale, your son took it upon himself to blow a raspberry at the closed door, having worked up the courage to mock the officer now that he was out of sight.
You grinned as you ruffled his hair, endearingly. “You tell ‘em, baby.”
However, that silence didn’t last long as RAN made himself known now that the coast was clear. Having hid around the corner in case things escalated, he too released an exhale, easy grin spreading across his face. Though your child was happy to see him, racing to cling onto his long legs, you merely glared in disapproval. Based off his appearance alone, disheveled and glistening with sweat, you wished your fib from earlier was true; he needed a shower.
“[S/n], don’t touch daddy right now…he stinks.”
Though a bit childish in your phrasing, Ran was well aware it held an underlying meaning, a chill running down his spine under your harsh scrutiny. He cleared his throat, somewhat nervous, as he searched his brain for honeyed words that would soothe your soreness toward him. And he laid it on thick.
“That’s ‘cause Daddy had to run the rest of the way home to make sure his babies were safe,” he leaned down to scoop up the clinging child, lightly tickling at his stomach poking out from under his pajama shirt to receive more joyous squeals. “But, Mommy scared away the big, mean police man all on her own, didn’t she?”
“Yea!” [S/n] squeaked, bright laugh bouncing off the walls as he wiggled around eagerly. You felt the corner of your lip twitch upward at the sight, but you pursed your lips to hide the impending smile—Ran noticed. He always did.
“Yeah.. we’re real lucky to have someone as wonderful as her to watch our backs whenever we’re in trouble.. right, mama?”
Your glare still remained, though not as harsh compared to moments ago. Despite the mirth swirling in his lavender gaze, you took note of something else hiding within. Something more raw, more vulnerable.
Remorse.
Ran didn’t like getting you caught up in his business. He did everything he could to ensure that none of you were ever exposed to the ugly parts of his life. Tonight, he was sloppy. He fucked up, and he knew that. The second shit hit the fan, his only priority was his family… You had every right to be livid with him, having both your son and a pregnancy to deal with virtually on your own, while also covering his ass from prying cops itching to nail him to the wall…It’s a miracle how you haven’t packed up and left him yet…
And he thanks his lucky stars that you haven’t.
With another deep exhale, you rubbed your temple. “I don’t know what it is that you do in those streets to cause such an upset, Ran-”
“For the record, tonight wasn’t exactly my fault-”
“-and I don’t care. I just…”
Your exhausted tone was more than enough to shut him up. He felt his throat tighten as he gently bounced your son on his hip to distract his increasing anxiety. The lavender-haired man mentally prepared for your scolding, already set on sleeping in the dog house if that’s what got him in your good graces again…but it doesn’t come. Eyes that were hyper focused on [S/n] fiddling with his loosened tie slowly trailed up at the sound of you huffing in, what he assumed to be, relief.
Waddling over to your boys, you reached up to caress their faces. Instinctively, they nuzzled into your palms, Ran a little more hesitant than your beaming son before reaching out with his free hand to touch your stomach. When your unborn child kicked against it in response, you noticed his shoulders visibly relax. Your thumb gently rubbed under his eye, frowning at the dark circles that formed on the pale skin. He looked solemnly into your eyes, turning his head slightly to kiss the inside of your palm. You sighed once more, eventually granting him a smile in reassurance.
Despite his abnormal lifestyle, and how hectic it could get, “I’m just glad you’re home.”
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fettuccin-e · 7 months
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Strictly Stress Relief
Kinktober Day 21: Hate Sex
Tags: Javier Peña x Reader, afab!fem!reader, unprotected piv (pls oh pls wrap it irl i'm begging), pulling out method lol, hate fucking, semi-public sex (in a supply closet), slight amounts of pining because i am weak for romance (w/c: 1K)
A/N: Back to Javi because this man is a bastard but damn it I'd really like to bang him like a screen door in a hurricane,, anyway I also couldn't help myself from sliding in a little bit of yearning because I need the romance okay?? (For Kinktober I have been using these prompts from flightlessangelwings!)
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Javier doesn’t really know when it started, how it started. 
He knows that you just get to him, in ways that he’s never felt before. You dig under his skin with smarmy comments under your breath, going behind his back with intel and planning raids without him involved.
“You’re reckless, Javier,” you say to him as an excuse, even as he looms over you, his jaw clenched with unshed rage. “It’s going to get you, or worse, somebody else, killed.” You're always so cool and collected, like you hadn't just stolen his fucking win.
He knows he drives you crazy with his methods of collecting intel, the girls that he brings in for questioning. He knows that you hate when he breaks protocol, and that you hate it even more when it works.
He knows that when you both used to butt heads, small arguments turning into full screaming matches at the office, he’d go home and drink half a bottle of whiskey, call one of the girls that always lets him treat her exactly how he wants. He’d fuck her rough, violent, working out every single bit of anger you’d stirred up in him that day. Usually, it was enough anger that it left the poor girl with bruises on her hips and a hefty tip in her bag.
What he doesn’t know is how he deviated from that habit, how he’s got you here, right now, pressed up against him in a supply closet of all places. He doesn’t know how he came into this new addiction, turning your arguments into excuses to fuck you anywhere, anytime.
He’s not sure you know how this happened either, but God, the way it feels inside of you makes him not want to fucking worry about it anymore. Your nails dig into his shoulders, a bite of pain that makes everything so much sweeter as he fucks you into the door of the closet.
You’re both making too much noise, but fuck, it doesn’t matter when you whine into his mouth, biting into his bottom lip.
“Fuck, Javi, harder, you have to fuck me harder,” you gasp, one of your legs hitched onto his hip to get him even deeper. The sticky wetness of your cunt is sticking to the wiry hairs at the base of his dick every time he pushes in deep.
“If I fuck you any harder, we’ll break down the goddamn door,” he grunts, but he grabs your hips anyway, pulling you into every one of his thrusts and grinning when you keen, your head tilting back to lean into the door. “Fucking needy, hermosa,” he grins, and you sneer at him.
“If you could fuck me better, maybe I wouldn’t be so needy,” you snarl, moving your hips forward to keep meeting him every time he drives forward.
“You say that I’m not fucking you like you need, baby,” he says, leaning close enough that his lips nearly brush yours. “But the way this pretty pussy is dripping down my cock tells a different story.”
He angles his hips just a little different, pounding up into your cunt, and he knows when he’s found it. That little spot inside that makes your eyes roll back, makes you clamp a hand over your mouth to stifle the way you scream. He slams up into that perfect little spot, over and over and over, relishing in the way you clench around him every time he reaches it.
“Fuck, baby,” he grunts, sweat beading on his forehead, his curls sticking to his skin. “So pretty like this, taking my cock so well. If I knew that this is what I needed to do to shut that smart mouth up, I would’ve been fucking this sweet pussy for months now.” 
You gasp around a response, unable to form words as Javier breaks you apart, his cock jamming into parts of you that you can’t even reach on your own. He fucks you like he fights with you; rough, primal, reckless. Strangled groans rip their way from his chest, and fuck, he can feel his orgasm creeping up, threatening to blow him to pieces right then and there.
You have to cum first. He has to make sure you cum first.
He reaches a hand between you both to rub maddening, tight circles into your clit, and God, the way you whine, high in the back of your throat, will haunt his fucking dreams tonight.
You’re goddamn beautiful when you cum, an angel in real time, though Javier will never admit that out loud. This is strictly stress relief. Mind-boggling, life-altering stress relief. 
Javier pulls out of you when you shake through the aftershocks of your orgasm, furiously jacking his cock in his hand and gasping at the way you look up at him, all doe-eyed and goddamn beautiful. You moan softly when he splatters his cum all over the outside of your pussy, letting it drip down your skin. It fuels something deep inside him, fills him with a sense of ownership that he should not be fucking feeling.
When you both finally catch your breaths, you pick your skirt up off the ground, yanking it up and over your hips. Javier ignores the fact that you don’t wipe yourself off, that you didn’t tug your panties back on. He absolutely does not think about the fact that his cum will be dripping down your thighs throughout your ride home tonight.
“You should-” you breathe, glancing up at him. “You should follow that intel we got today. You questioned that girl in the first place, it should be your win.” There’s something in the way you say “questioned” that makes his heart beat hard in his chest. It sounds bitter, jealous even.
You break from his gaze, not offering anything more than that as you tug on your heels. 
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Javier,” you mutter, and you slip out of the closet without another word.
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kingkatsuki · 7 months
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Only ever thinking about going to concerts and festivals with Bakugou. Sigh.
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Bakugou is positioned like a guard dog while he stands near the ladies bathroom dutifully holding your drink in hand as he waits for you to emerge. Brows furrowed as he scans the crowd of any eyes that are directed towards you that shouldn’t be, practically daring any guy that sees you on your own for a few fleeting minutes to try something.
Even though he’s nursing his own beer, he takes a sip from your cup. The fruitier concoction hits his tongue as he deliberately places his lips over the lipstick mark you’ve left on the rim, tasting the faint hint of cherry on his lips as he waits for you to emerge.
And of course it happens— why wouldn’t it when you look so fucking pretty today. The sheen of sweat tacking your skin that you despise only serves to make you look more alluring, casting an ethereal glow on your body as though the sun beats down on the event arena only for you. And that’s why there’s a guy swiftly approaching you that thought he could try his luck. Bakugou is well prepared, booted feet thudding into action as he makes a beeline for you, ready to intercept the guy who’s already cast you a friendly smile. A look that’s gone completely unnoticed by you, Bakugou acknowledges with glee, as you make a beeline for him.
“Hey,” The guy calls out to you, but he may as well be talking to a wall as you look directly at Bakugou. Reaching out to grab your plastic cup back as he wraps a possessive arm around your waist, even this sweltering heat won’t stop him from protecting what is his, “Nice shirt.”
You look down at the shirt you’re wearing before looking back at the guy with a wide smile on your face and Bakugou is practically ready to fist pump the air in victory. That was this smarmy fuckers second mistake, the first was trying it on with you—
“Thanks!” You grin, your hand instinctively goes to the hem to try and pull it down your fishnet clad thighs, “I stole it off my boyfriend.”
Boyfriend— that’s fuckin’ right asshole, Bakugou smirks in victory as he squeezes your hip with glee. Taking a gulp from his beer as you turn to face him, “Are you ready to go? I think they’re on in a few minutes.”
“Yeah, baby. Let’s go.” Bakugou can’t help his lips curling into a smug grin as you turn your back on the guy, slowly making your way towards one of the main stages as he turns to give the poor soul one more fleeting look before moving his hand down to grab your ass for good measure.
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cordyce · 1 year
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"i don’t like the way they keep staring at you." w/ peeta 'if it weren't for the baby' mellark? :3
truthfully, your hands are beginning to grow a little shaky from doing this for so long. the minor tremble is smudging your paint strokes, causing a few swipes to stray from the imaginary lines you have mapped out in your head. but no one can fault you for that; not rightfully. you're not the skilled painter here.
and as if on cue the man who's art you adore so much is sliding up next to you. painfully close–abnormally close, more like. you are not a stranger to his affection but something about how a calloused hand finds the divot in the small of your back so swiftly has you tipping your head to address him. in such a public venue, no less.
"yes?" you adhere as you turn to peeta with a smile. but a smile is not what you're greeted with in return. no, this upturn of lips is a little too slanted for that, a little too suave.
"nothing, just came to admire the expert at work." it's all he says, all he gives, and you know it cannot be all there is because he has that glint in his eye he only gets when he is being smarmy.
"right, well, we both know i'm not the expert here, so," you blow through a chuckle as you drop your paintbrush into a murky cup of water. "what is it you really came over here for, mr. mellark?"
you turn to face him properly and expect this to be where he drops his hands, looses his hold on you. but he does exactly the opposite. instead of feigning, his fingers simply shift–down to your belt loops. there's a single tug; harsh and surging enough you can now feel the heat of his thighs radiating against yours.
"i don't like the way they keep staring at you." and it's jolting; how he says it with such a sickeningly sweet tongue and cherry pressed lips, as if his eyes aren't glinting like the blades of daggers in moonlight.
you lick your lips, force a laugh as you pat at his chest to stave off the turn of your stomach. "please, they're probably just admiring my expert painting skills. this is a dog and pony show, you know."
it's meant to be a jab, a taunt. throwing peeta's own words back in his face to throw him off and maybe turn his grin a little more genuine and a little less guileful. yet all it does is seem to cause his lips to twitch ever deeper, carve their way up to the dimple in his cheek.
"i know what they're admiring, and it isn't your canvas."
he side steps you, picks your brush back up and in one swift motion tosses it behind him in such a way it looks like a mere accidental dropping. an accident, that seems to have splattered the red stain directly on that of a capital patron who is positioned a little closer than you thought they were allowed to be to the.. entertainment.
eyes slightly widened, there is no denying the skip of your heart now as peeta's lip brush against the shell of your ear. "you belong in a gallery all of my own. a stunning, private collection," he whispers.
then with no more than an innocent kiss to your temple and a squeeze to your hip, he's gone. rushing to retrieve your brush and usher out apologies through his golden boy personage, his charm winning as it always does in favor of the capitol. and you are left dazed, wanting nothing more than to shrink into your skin. not because of the peering and prying eyes of the entire nation; but because of the yearning and burning eyes of your lover.
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tropes-and-tales · 7 months
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Lieutenant Steal-Your-Girl
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Day 8: Cuckolding (Bob Floyd x F!Reader; Jake Seresin x F!Reader)
(For the 2023 Kinktober event that I created on my own because I am boring and basic and am trying to keep it simple this year...found here!) 
CW:  Light angst (relationship woes); open relationships; cuckolding, but not really, I think I did this one wrong but got too deep to turn back; Jake is a bad boyfriend; smut (Oral, F!receiving; PiV, unprotected); 18+ only.
Word Count:  5536
AN:  This was requested for Kinktober by an anon!
AN2: This might not be for everyone. People feel A Certain Way about open relationships, and this is very much a Reddit revenge version of that. Cuckolding? Maybe if you squint. I dunno. It got away from me and my original intention for this. Also, if you're a Jake fan, this won't be for you. Read at your own peril.
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The sentence makes Bob Floyd short-circuit.  A question, in English, uttered by Jake with his smarmy grin, but it’s so incongruous, Bob’s mind cannot grasp it.
“You wanna fuck my girl, Baby on Board?”
Bob sputters at the question.  He feels his cheeks heat up as blood floods his face in a furious blush.  He wonders if it’s a joke, a put-on by the other pilots.  He glances around—to the piano where Rooster is perched, to the bar where Nat and Javi wait patiently for a fresh pitcher—and finds himself without backup.  It’s just him and Bagman by the pool tables. 
Bob can’t help but glance out the windows of the Hard Deck to see where you’re sitting.
Where you’re waiting patiently for Jake to rejoin you.  Where you often sit alone while Jake flirts with the local girls.  Where the other members of the Dagger Squad often sit with you, an apology of sorts, a paltry way of making up for your boyfriend’s inattention.  Where Bob, more than any other Dagger, often sits with you, distracts you from your wayward boyfriend, makes you laugh with his corny jokes. 
You explain to him one night how you and Jake are trying an open thing, an open relationship, a way of spicing up your long-term thing—but Bob hears the misery in your voice, and he sees the hurt look in your eyes when you see your boyfriend openly flirting with his next conquest—
Jake snapping his fingers brings Bob back to focus.  He opens his mouth, manages to answer Jake (“of course not, she’s your girl, Bagman”), but it’s the flimsiest of lies.  Bob knows it.  Jake knows it. 
Bob has wanted you from the moment he clapped his eyes on you.
-----
Another night, another moment where Bob finds himself alone with Jake.
The same question posed to him.  “You wanna fuck my girl, Bob?”
This time, Jake doesn’t let Bob sputter out a lie.  The man shakes his head, offers a rueful grin, then claps Bob on the back hard enough to nearly jolt him off his stool. 
“It isn’t an accusation,” Jake clarifies.  “It’s a question.  An offer.  You interested?”
Another lie when he stammers out, “no, I wouldn’t…I mean, I don’t think—”
Jake cuts him off with another hard clap on the back.  “Let’s take a walk, huh?  Me and you.  We’ll talk.”
-----
That’s the night Bob learns that his understanding of kinks is incomplete.  He always thought of kinks as things like role-playing or handcuffs or outrageous lingerie.  He never knew of cuckolding beyond, perhaps, a vague memory of reading the word in high school when they read Shakespeare in English class.
That’s the night Bob learns that beyond opening up your relationship, Jake has a thing for cuckolding.  It’s only theoretical; you haven’t slept with anyone but Jake, but Jake has taken full advantage of the open relationship and has had many lovers beyond you. 
And Jake finds the idea of you with another man intoxicating.  However, when he’s broached the subject with you, urged you to go out and find yourself a one-night stand, you’ve balked.
Hence, the need for Bob.
“She is comfortable with you,” Jake explains, and it sounds so commonplace, so everyday that he’s offering his girlfriend up as a potential one-night stand for his fellow Dagger.  “And I know you like her.”
Bob ends up declining.  Of course he likes you.  He’s wanted you for as long as he’s known you.  He lies awake at night, plagued by insomnia that has its origin in you. Evenings cheering you up at the Hard Deck haunt him—your sad eyes that always track Jake around the bar, but the way you laugh at Bob’s jokes, the way you chat with him earnestly about books and movies, about hiking trails you want to conquer, places you want to travel to.  You’re Bob’s dream girl but you’re taken, whether your relationship is open or not. 
Bob declines Jake’s offer.  Besides, it feels too close to a business deal, edging too close to something akin to sex work, albeit without money changing hands.  Jake and his smarmy grin feels too close to being a pimp.  Just two men making a deal about a woman without her input.
So Bob declines, but when you make a similar offer weeks later, that’s something else entirely.
-----
It happens at the Hard Deck.  You’re outside nursing a drink, separating yourself from where Jake chats up a local woman.  Bob sits beside you, and he tells you a story from when he was stationed in Pensacola, but you’re not really listening.
You cut him off halfway through his story, turn to face him.  Your eyes, usually so sad, have a fire in them he’s never seen before, and it pulls his up short, strikes him mute.
“Do you want to go out with me sometime?” you ask, and if Bob stammered his way through Jake’s offer, he doesn’t hesitate a single second when you ask.
“Yes,” he replies.  “Absolutely.”
-----
Bob has no idea what the rules are.  Jake made it sound like a tawdry hook-up, a late-night meeting with sex and nothing else.
You?  You ask him if he wants to go out with you, and Bob interprets that as a date night.  He gets your number, texts you throughout the week, and makes plans.
A proper date night.  Bob can’t tell if Jake knows or not.  He’s unclear if there’s a don’t-ask, don’t-tell policy in place, despite how open Jake seems to be with his own dalliances.  Bob keeps it hush-hush, and late Saturday afternoon, Bob finds himself at your apartment.
-----
Years later, Bob will be able to admit to himself:  this isn’t just a date for him. 
It’s an audition.  It’s a job interview.  It’s Lieutenant Robert Floyd doing his damnedest to show you that he’s a better bet than Jake. 
Bob sees how unhappy you are with Jake, how miserable you are to be in an open relationship you didn’t want.  It’s Bob trying to show you that Jake isn’t the only man in the world; that there are other proverbial fish in the proverbial sea, and that maybe another man (Bob, specifically) would cherish you, would love you, would never offer you up to other men.  Cuckolding isn’t Bob’s kink at all, so he misinterprets Jake’s insistence as guilt.  Jake must feel guilty, Bob reasons, and offering you up feels like a twisted version of atonement—a chance for you to explore other men.
It occurs to Bob that Jake chose him because he doesn’t feel threatened.  Bob Floyd—quiet Bob with his terrible, Navy-issued glasses, with his quiet voice and lack of braggadocio—is no threat to the handsome, cocky pilot.
Years later, it will only demonstrate:  Jake Seresin doesn’t know Bob Floyd at all, but more to the point—Jake Seresin doesn’t really know you.
*****
As far as first dates go, Bob knocks it out of the park.
Not that you have a lot of experience.  You’ve only ever had one first date—all the way back in sophomore year of high school—when Jake took you out to Sonic and then felt you up in the cab of his truck.
You try not to compare Adult Bob against Adolescent Jake.  It wouldn’t be fair.
It doesn’t stop you from comparing Adult Bob to Adult Jake, and the differences are stunning.
Bob greets you at your door with a bouquet of flowers, cheerful daises that nod their fat little heads as you invite him in to put them in water.  Bob does his usual Bob-stammer, a faint pink tinge to his cheeks as he tells you how beautiful you look.
When was the last time Jake got you flowers?  When was the last time Jake complimented your looks?
You often feel invisible with your boyfriend, and it’s always been that way.  Star running back Jake, hometown hero, dating the perfectly average, perfectly middle-of-the-road girl.  Jake with his good looks, his perfect smile, his perfect tan, his perfect muscles…and you. 
Jake’s idea of a date night is typically the Hard Deck, and since the two of you have opened up your relationship, date night has ceded to hunting for new prospects.  You dread it every time; you sit outside and listen to the ceaseless roll of the waves, and you wait with a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach to see if you’ll go home alone or if your boyfriend will turn up at last call, disappointed to have struck out, disappointed to go home to boring old you.
You are desperately unhappy.  Your emotions veer wildly.  You swing between extremes:  manic periods where you work out, get your hair styled, where you scrub and polish and pluck yourself as near to perfect as you can get.  Depressive periods where you can barely summon the strength to shower, ground down by the thought of your boyfriend fucking other women.
You know you should end it.  When Jake sat you down all those months ago, your stomach had fluttered with butterflies.  This is it, you thought.  He’s going to ask me to marry him.  You’d waited so long, patient and unswerving in your devotion.  Through college and flight school, bouncing around in his wake as his assignments and deployments dictated.
Instead, Jake told you he was bored.  That he read up on it, and he thought opening the relationship would be good for him.  For you, too.
“As long as we always come home to each other, I don’t see it as a bad thing,” he had told you, and you—always invisible, always trailing behind him like a lost puppy—had hated yourself when you nodded in agreement.
-----
Bob takes you first to an independent bookstore, a tucked-away little gem, and you realize immediately that he isn’t playing fair.  When you tell him so, shaking your forefinger with a mock-frown, he only gives you his soft Bob Floyd smile.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he claims, and he holds his palms up in surrender.  “We just have a little time to kill before our reservations.”
Bad enough he’s brought you here.  The two of you talk books all the time, and it’s a thoughtful date idea.  But what makes it worse is when he sidles up to you as you read the book jacket of a new release and says, low near your ear, “get whatever you want.  My treat.”
It’s the moment the bottom falls out for you.  It’s like you’ve been wading around in the shallow end of the pool, and Bob’s sweet date paired with Bob’s surprisingly low, grumbling voice near your ear is your foot slipping into the deep end.  You find yourself treading water.  You find yourself fighting off the panicky urge to flail.
-----
Dinner is at a restaurant overlooking the ocean, and you wonder if Bob timed it so that you’d be there during sunset.
You suspect he did.  You’re starting to suspect that this isn’t just some prelude to fucking, the crude reality of this open relationship you and Jake are doing, the cuckolding fetish that Jake seems to have.  Bob could have just invited you over to his place, but he’s planned such a lovely first date.
You are out of your depth, but when the panic starts to grip you, you only look across the table to see Bob:  his bright blue eyes, his gentle smile, the tips of his ears pink underneath the soft wave of his hair.  You look at him and it feels natural, and the panic ebbs away but it’s replaced by something else.
Doubt.  This date with Bob is a crack in the foundation of your relationship with Jake.  A tiny little trickle of doubt slips through.
Why does this feel so easy, you think as you pick at your meal.  Why does this feel so easy but everything with Jake feels so fraught?
It feels easy because Bob talks to you, not at you.  He’s endlessly curious about you:  your history, your likes, your dislikes.  What your job is like, what your childhood was like.  Where you see yourself in five years, in ten, in twenty?  Do you like the country or the city?  The ocean or the mountains?  Do you like dogs or cats or both?  What’s your favorite book, what’s the last movie you saw? 
Jakes doesn’t ask you those questions, and you half-convince yourself that it’s because you’ve been together for so long.  Jake knows everything there is to know about you.
But you know that’s not true.  Bob pays for dinner, then takes your hand in his.  He walks you to a nearby gelato place for dessert, and it’s nearly perfect.  This second first date with Bob Floyd while your boyfriend is out doing god know what (or who). 
It’s nearly perfect but not entirely because you admit to yourself that Jake doesn’t know everything about you at all.  He’s never asked what you’re reading, who your favorite author is, and it hits you suddenly that Bob—who you’ve known for a handful of months, if that—might know parts of you better than your boyfriend.
At Bob’s truck, he puts the key in the ignition but doesn’t turn it yet.  He turns to face you, and his face is a furious red.  He’s blushing, you realize.  Something is making him blush.
“Take you home?” he asks, and his voice has a strange tension in it that you’ve never heard before.  You think of this date, all the effort he put into it to make it perfect.  You think of all the times he’s kept you company at the Hard Deck, how sometimes he sits in front of you, makes his body block your line of sight so you can’t see Jake leaning in on some girl who is prettier than you, more adventuresome than you—
“No.”  You shake your head, then smile at Bob.  You don’t care about Jake and his stupid cuckolding kink; you’ve been on a low-simmer of growing desire ever since the bookshop when Bob leaned in and growled in your ear.  You want Bob for Bob’s own sake.
 “Take me to your place,” you say.
*****
It’s a dangerous thing, how Jake never once crosses Bob’s mind once he gets you to his apartment.  Bob forgets the reality of this situation:  that you’re taken, that this is a one-time thing, that it’s actually feeding into Jake’s kink, not yours or Bob’s.
Bob forgets all of that.  He’s only focused on you:  lovely, perfect you.  The best date he’s ever been on, and Bob feels like a million bucks at how surprised you’d been with each part of it.  The way your face lit up at the flowers, at his compliments.  The squeal of surprise at the book store, the shy way you only chose one book for him to buy you—he would have bought you the whole store if you’d asked.  The content sigh each time you looked at the sun setting over the ocean, and how natural it felt to hold your hand as he walked you back to his truck.
Bob doesn’t think of Jake until afterwards, and it’s dangerous because Bob instead thinks about second dates, third dates.  He forgets that you’re spoken for, and instead he spins out an entire future where he meets your family and you meet his, where he cleans off a shelf in his bathroom for you, where the two of you move in together…
Who could blame him, though?  Once he gets you inside his apartment, he turns to ask if you want a drink, but you’re right there, standing so close to him that he can see the little amber flecks in your eyes and the question is only halfway out of his mouth when you kiss him.
Of course Bob doesn’t think of Jake.  He’s wanted you since he first saw you, and here you finally are:  your hands on him, holding him steady as you press your lips to his, as you bump against his glasses and knock them askew, then break the kiss to gently reach up and set them right again.
“Sorry,” you mumble, and Bob doesn’t link your sudden reticence—you avoid his eyeline—to Jake.  He doesn’t make the connection between your bashful expression and how you’ve only ever kissed Jake, slept with Jake, and how monumental this all must feel.
“Don’t apologize.”  Bob cups his hands on your bare shoulders, pulls you in for a hug.  “Nothin’ to be sorry for.”
“I’m not very good at this.”  It comes out muffled, your face pressed against his shoulder.
Bob has always guessed that your rocky relationship with Jake has shaken your confidence, but he doesn’t think of that now.  He only feels you sigh against him, embarrassed, so he pushes you away gently, touches his forehead to yours.
“You’re fine,” he assures you.  “You’re perfect.”  Then he leans in, kisses you this time, and when his glasses get knocked off-kilter again, he just takes them off, folds them into his pocket, then leads you into his bedroom.
*****
You’ve spent a lot of time on the internet researching cuckolding as a kink, and you had settled on the belief that Jake was into it because he was turned on by the idea of another man using you.
Or maybe he just feels guilty that he’s the only one taking advantage of the open relationship.
Who can say?  When you try to talk about it, Jake brushes you off, tells you not to worry about it too much, so you never are quite clear on what motivates the man you thought you’d marry one day.
But as far as being used goes, nothing about your dalliance with Bob says used:  the man worships you.  He kneels in front of your body like a penitent, and his hands are so gentle, his voice so soft as he asks permission every step of the way.
“Can I kiss you here?”
“Can I touch you here?”
Is this okay?  Does this feel good?  Tell me what you like.  Tell me what you need.  I’ll do anything.  Let me make you feel good.
Is this what Jake wanted—a change from the usual?  Because being with Bob feels like a revelation:  you’ve never been loved like this.  He kisses his way down your naked body, then reverses course until he’s between your legs, his broad shoulders holding your thighs open.  His mouth on you, the shy little swipes of his tongue until he gets a taste of you—then he devours you like a starved man, completely unabashed at the groans leaving him, at the way he grinds into the bedding at how turned on he is to feast on you.
You open your mouth to tell him not to bother, that you’ve never come from oral alone, but then you feel how your body is responding, the answering arousal to Bob’s skilled tongue, and when he slides a finger inside you, you’re reminded of that too-deep feeling from earlier.
But instead of feeling panicky, you feel a sharp throb of arousal.  You aren’t afraid of being in too deep now.  You aren’t straining to return to shore. 
You want to be swept out to sea, and you want Bob to be the one to do it.  When your orgasm approaches, you reach down and tangle your fingers in Bob’s hair—it’s as soft as it looks, just as silky—and Bob looses a groan that vibrates up from your pussy to the very top of your head.  He reaches up and holds your hand against his head, mumbles against you to use him, to grind against him, so you do.  You lift your hips and press against his mouth, feel the bump of his nose against your clit, and you realize that you’re about to come from oral for the first time in your life and that it’s not your boyfriend who’s done it.
When you come against Bob’s mouth, every single thought of Jake is erased from your head, and you won’t think of him again afterwards.
*****
Bob takes a long beat to get control of himself.  He was dangerously close to coming as he ate you out, and he waits for his own orgasm to fade into the background before he continues.
Instead, he props himself on one elbow and just watches you.  If you looked beautiful before, you look even more so now:  all of the tension is gone from your face, and blink up at him sleepily, dreamily.  Your smile is lazy, and when you sigh, it’s nothing but content.
“Good?” he asks, grinning down at you.
You nod, just as lazy as your smile.  “The best.”  You purse your lips, pout up at him.  “Kiss me?”
How can he resist?  He leans down to kiss you, and you wrap your arm around his shoulders, pull him closer to you.  Eating you out has relaxed you, banished whatever doubts you had from earlier, and you kiss him now with a passion he’s never experienced before:  you part your lips, you slide your tongue into his mouth, you lick against him.  You must taste yourself on him because you make the cutest damned whimper, and it goes straight to his dick, hearing how undone you are.
Then you do this cute little wriggling move underneath him, and Bob’s body moves independently of his brain:  he slots himself between your thighs, slick from his earlier attention, and his erection bumps against your hip, your belly before you reach down and guide him to where you want him most.
Bob breaks the kiss long enough to mumble his question about protection, and it won’t occur to him until much later—what it means when you say you’re on birth control but also that you’re clean, that there’s no risk.
It won’t occur to Bob until later, what it means for you to say you’re clean.  It won’t occur to him that you’re in a committed relationship, that your boyfriend has regular hookups but you remain STD-free since your last checkup.
It’ll hit Bob in the middle of his workday at Miramar, what you are telling him now:  that your bedroom with Jake is dead and has been for a while, and that this moment with Bob is the first time you’ve had sex in months.
He’ll realize that later.  Now, there’s only the feeling of your pussy—warm, wet, perfect—as he pushes into you.  There’s only the sound of your sharp inhale, your whine as you tell him to go slow, to be gentle, but you don’t need to tell him that.  He’d never hurt you, and he can feel how tight you are, so he goes slow.  He works himself into you carefully, watches your face for any sign of pain. 
He sees none.  He goes so slowly that he only sees your expression go from worried to stunned:  the lines in your brow smooth out and your lips part as you gaze up at him, a perfect oh of surprise. 
When he’s fully seated in you, buried in the silky depths of your pussy, Bob stills—and he realizes that you are trembling underneath him.
“Honey,” he breathes out, the sweet nickname falling from his mouth without thought.  “You okay?  You want me to—”
“No.”  You cut him off, gift him with a shaky smile.  “Stay with me, okay?  Just stay with me a minute.”
“’Course.”  He leans down, bumps his nose against yours until your smile firms up, seems steadier.  “Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
Bob only moves enough to settle more of his weight on you, and then he takes the time to kiss you:  he trails featherlight kisses across your face, your forehead, your flushed cheeks.  He kisses the tip of your nose—it pulls a giggle from you, and the sound makes him smile.  He kisses along your jaw.  He dips his head near your ear, whispers how gorgeous you are, how good you feel, how he’d happily stay like this forever.  He doesn’t miss the little shudder you give at his praise.
Bob doesn’t realize that he’s shifted your worldview entirely.  Just this simple liaison—not even complete, and nothing extreme—has rearranged everything you thought you knew.  You aren’t actively thinking of Jake at all—he’s been banished until afterwards—but you’re considering the balance of your entire erotic history against this single moment with Bob.
You’re realizing that sex can be so much more than just an act…and with Bob, a man you haven’t known that long.
You eventually stop trembling.  Bob feels it when you relax; the tight clench of your cunt slackens a bit.  He feels your hands on him, shy at first and then bolder as you run your warm palms over the planes of his back, along his shoulders and arms.  As you thread your fingers through his hair, comb out the tangles there.  As you rest your palm along the back of his head and lead his face back to yours.
“Thank you.”  You whisper it, and your eyes are wide.  Earnest.  Bob isn’t sure what you’re thanking him for, so he just kisses you again.
“I’m ready,” you mumble against his searching lips.
“You sure?”
A nod, a purposeful roll of your hips that makes Bob see stars, makes the edges of his vision turn hazy with desire. 
“Take me, Bob,” you tell him, and he’s never heard you so assured.  “I’m yours.”
So he does.  He takes you in small movements, focused on your pleasure.  He is used to sitting in the backseat of a billion dollar plane, all those systems to keep track of, so focusing on you is an easy, wondrous thing:  the expression on your face, the moans he manages to pull from you.  The way your eyes flutter shut or roll back or fix on him like he’s responsible for setting the sun in the sky.  The way your hands touch him or hold him, sometimes soft and stroking, sometimes clinging to him like he’s your life preserver.  The way your cunt feels, slick and warm and gripping him, obscenely wet as he fucks into you harder, the sound of skin on skin, the heady scent of sex filling his room, and he hopes it lingers for days afterwards, he wants the moment to never end.
He focuses on your pleasure as it rises, crests around you:  the way you tighten up, bear down harder on him until he loses some of his rhythm.  He reaches a shaky hand down to touch you there, the slick, swollen place where he disappears into the confines of your body, and he rubs a tight circle against you.  He begs you to come for him; he’s so close, he feels his balls tightening against his body, and he needs you to come for him first, needs to feel you before—
When you come, you say his name.  You breathe it out, a hot pant against his ear, and Bob is grateful for it because it pushes him over the edge.  He groans out your name too, chokes out a curse, and you come together—your pussy pulsing around him as he buries himself in you, comes inside you.
Marks you as his.
-----
Afterwards, Bob remembers Jake and feels a sting of conscience—but not enough to send you home.  That had been integral to the cuckolding thing, Bob sending you home thoroughly fucked, to sleep beside Jake, for Jake to know you’d been with another man and to be turned on by it.
A mean little part of Bob wants to.  He wants to send you home satisfied, his cum dripping out of you.  Part of him sees the allure of it from his side; Jake doesn’t consider Bob a threat, so it’d hit the smug bastard hard to see you satisfied, happy from your dalliance with the back-seater.
But Bob doesn’t give a shit about Jake.  Not when you’re sitting in his bed with the sheets wrapped around you, uncertain all of a sudden, and Bob kisses you on the forehead and tells you to stay.
“Just stay the night,” he says.  “Please.  I’d love for you to stay.”
He sees the doubt on your face.  He knows you’re thinking of Jake, and Bob feels a flare of something—anger, protectiveness, whatever.  It gives him the courage to speak up.  He takes your hand in his, settles on the bed beside you.
“Honey, is this even what you wanted?  I had a fun time with you, but would you have asked me out if Jake hadn’t wanted it?”
Your expression turns from uncertain to surprise in an instant.  “No!  I mean, I asked you out because I like you.  And because I’m in an open thing.  I thought…”  You trail off, stare at him as you try to assemble your words.  “Did you only agree to take me about because of Jake?”
Bob shakes his head.  “No.  I took you out because I wanted to.  I brought you here because I want you.”
Your surprise turns to a shy smile.  “Really?”
He squeezes your hand.  “Really.”
Your smile fades away by degrees, and your eyes shine with unshed tears.  “I never wanted any of this, you know.  I…I wanted to get married, have kids, all that, but he…”  You sigh, drop your head.  “I don’t like the open relationship.  It makes me feel like I’m not enough, you know?”
“Honey—”
“Like if I were better somehow, he wouldn’t have to go out and find other women—”
“Hey, no, don’t—”
“Like, what is wrong with me?  Why aren’t I enough? Why—”
“Stop.”  Bob places a finger over your mouth to silence you.  He hates all this doubt, hates how little you think of yourself, so he stills your words.  “You’re enough,” he tells you.  “Hell, honey, you’re everything.”
You blink at him, surprised.  The shimmering tears shake loose, start to course down your cheeks, and Bob pulls you to him, holds you as you cry.  He wraps you in his arms as you sob against him, gasp out that you don’t know what to do, that you’ve felt lost for months now—
“You don’t have to do anything tonight,” he murmurs against your head.  “You just need a good night’s rest.  That’s all you need to do tonight.”
Your tears taper off.  You push away from him gently and swipe at where your tears have made his bare chest wet.
“Stop being so wise, Lieutenant,” you grumble, but there’s a teasing quality there that makes Bob smile.  You sniffle and glance up at him, and he’s struck how beautiful you are even with swollen, teary eyes.
Maybe you’ve rearranged his world too.
No, there’s no maybe to it.  You’ve definitely rearranged his world.
“Stay with me tonight,” he says, and he keeps his voice low and even, tries to keep the excitement out of it.  He can sense that a sea-change is coming, and he doesn’t want to jinx it.
“Stay tonight,” he repeats.  “Things are always clearer in the morning, I find.”
So you do.  You nod at him, and you wave off his offers to get you clothes to sleep in.  The two of you fall asleep in record time—the cure for Bob’s you-induced insomnia is you, both the cause and the cure, your warm, naked body curled up alongside him as he fades into sleep. 
And you were right:  Bob is wise.  You’ll wake in the morning to an empty bed, a room full of sunlight, the lingering scent of sex.  You’ll pad out into Bob’s kitchen and find the man putting the finishing touches on breakfast, and you’ll let him feed you before you let him fuck you again—this time on his kitchen counter, the room full of light so you can see the blatant love in his expression as he claims you again.  And then a third time, together in the shower, a slow moment so full of feeling that you’ll cry when you come, and Bob will hold you, will choke back words as he comes too, and you’ll wonder later why those bitten-back words sound so much like I love you.
And then you’ll let Bob drive you home where Jake will be waiting for you.  His smug smile will fall as you breeze past him, his cuckolding fantasy falling apart in front of him because he was the only one turned on by it, the only one turned on by opening your relationship.  Jake will realize too late that he only opened the door for someone else to come and steal you away, and that the thief will be Robert Floyd, who taught you that love should never be such a fraught, painful thing, and that you may not be enough for Jake, but for the right man, you are everything.
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dhampling · 3 months
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leeches girl!dadstarion, <1k
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“What if I were… a leech?” His steady hands continue to work through her hair as his eyes roll briefly into his skull. “Would you like me to elaborate all the ways in which you already are, my treasure?”  - astarion and his daughter have a spat. idk what to tell you. this is pure fluff. wc: 540
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“I would pick you again in a heartbeat if I had one, darling. I would. Really.”
Astarion is droll as he quips; jacquard ribbon between his teeth. She bares her fangs at him in a baby snarl.
“What if I were… a leech?”
His steady hands continue to work through her hair as his eyes roll briefly into his skull.
“Would you like me to elaborate all the ways in which you already are, my treasure?” 
She cries out almost immediately in a nauseatingly telltale screech from where she sits cross-legged on the rug, yelling for you repeatedly in perhaps the most grating tone you’ve ever heard in your whole entire sorry life. Astarion continues to braid her hair with a measured mental detachment. You swear you hear him humming.
You make sure to let out a low-strung beleaguered groan as you approach the living room.
“Okay! I heard you. I do hear you. What can I do for you?”
Your daughter - wholly unconvincingly - wobbles her bottom lip as her brows knit together.
“Daddy called me a leech, mummy.”
“I would never do that.” He clicks his tongue in a muted mock horror. Continues to braid her hair with a genuine perfection you could never manage like his tailor’s hands can.
She launches into a wordy barrage of accusations against Astarion, favourites including ‘completely horrible fabricator’ and a ‘ghastly teller of lies.
“Daddy.’
You’re sharp in tone. His head whips to you.
 ‘Did you call her a leech?” You ask flatly. 
“No.”
“Did you imply she’s a leech?”
He stifles a smile. This time, your eyes roll into your skull.
“I - as I’ve stated - would never do that.”
“Yes, but unfortunately, you absolutely would.’ 
He looks at you with the grin of a charlatan.
‘We don’t tell lies do we, Daddy?”
“I’m not lying. She called herself a leech.” 
She starts screeching in rebuttal, pulling away from Astarion in aggressive shakes as he tethers her gently by her (admittedly immaculate) plaits.
“You are both absolutely as bad as each other.’
This - for some completely unknown and far-distant reason - doesn’t stop the absolute caterwaul assaulting your every sense.
‘Daddy. Say sorry now.”
Your eyes are aflame. The treacle weight of a headache stirs above your brow.
Astarion looks back to you briefly, and his smarmy self-satisfied smirk falls as quick as it appeared. 
Your teeth clench with enough force to remove a finger and his gaze drops to her.
“My darling girl. I am sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.’
She stands in a pointed uncertainty as he leans forward and cups her now forward face in his large hands.
‘I’d consider myself a leech, honestly. Freaky little things.’
He waggles his fingers next to her cheeks, a genuine smile now as she flinches into laughter.
‘Daddy leech and Daughter leech, hm?'
A quick giggle.
'Shall we go biting?”
Their eyes meet for a brief second and then fall on you, standing in the doorway with hands on hips in exasperation.
It takes you a second to catch on.
Astarion is up and wrangling you onto the lounge before you can act, your stream of stuttered pleas ignored as your daughter and he descend on you in playbites; collapsing in fits of laughter.
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etherealising · 9 months
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interlude two | anyone who had a heart
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masterlist | ↢ previous chapter | next chapter ↣ |
pairing: carmy x fem!reader | platonic!richie jerimovich x fem!reader | carmen berzatto x his delusions | carmen berzatto x self-sabotage | fem!reader x weakness for short slutty men with blue eyes | fem!reader x slutty gold chains | fem!reader x BEING FUCKING WEAK FOR SMARMY CARMY |
summary: the devastion of mikey's passing pushes baby into the arms of the man she loves the most.
warning(s): death | grief | funeral | refusal to grieve | denial | kinda delusional behavior | unhealthy coping mechanisms | angst | fluff | longing | mutual pining | idiots in love | love drunk carmy | probably ooc!carmy | wise willie | zero accuracy regarding new york | baby letting men pump and dump her | SMUT | P IN V | UNPROTECTED SEX | SOFT!DOM READER | VANILLA SEX | EMOTIONAL TENDER SEX |
wc: 17.3k
edited to the best of my abilities. if things don't make sense i apologize!
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March 1, 2022
The rain rhythmically bounced off the umbrella in Richie’s hand. Both of you huddled under the slightly too-small object, the majority of your bodies dry, but each of you felt your fair share of rain land squarely on you. The child in front of you, dry as a desert, her small stature an advantage.
All that could be heard was nature's tears singing against the various umbrellas and the voice of the priest that seemed to just drone on and on.
Donna’s cry’s had been relegated to silent sobs just moments ago, you watched as Nat put her own hurt and discomfort aside to assuage Donna’s nerves.
You had all but ignored the empty seat situated next to Natalie, not wanting to believe the truth of the situation. As you stared at the coffin resting several feet in front of you, you couldn’t help but wonder what the cold lifeless body lying inside looked like. You knew there was only so much that could be done to make a body with a hole in its head presentable, and that a closed-casket funeral was for the best.
It was selfish, but you wanted one last look at Mikey. Did he look peaceful? Was he finally freed from the vices that had for so long controlled him? You so hoped that wherever he was, wherever his soul found its spiritual comforts he was at peace.
A tug on the sleeve of your coat drew your attention. Looking down your eyes met Eva's, the little girl insisted on standing with you, her small toddler hand securely wrapped in your adult one. It felt a little odd to be standing here like this, a buffer between a family that was no more, while also serving as the memory of one family’s missing piece.
She raised her arms in a signal to be picked up. Funerals were no place for children to be, but what good was lying to them about the realities of life? You gently lifted her into your arms sitting her on your hip comfortably. Eva’s small head rested against yours playing with the pearls around your neck, the small girl could only understand so much of what was going on around her.
You felt Tiff step closer to you, arm wrapping around your waist so she leaned into Eva’s back. The comfort of the small family surrounding you keeps you grounded to the moment in front of you, not allowing your mind to think of the pain Mikey must’ve been in, or the voicemail that had gone unchecked for the past week.
Funerals were a funny thing for you, the last one you attended was your mom’s. And it wasn’t a competition, but her death was easier. That’s the thing with terminal illness; death is inevitable. You would never be prepared for any death in your life, but it was a bit easier knowing your mom didn’t have a fighting chance. Her decision to leave this realm behind was harder, but knowing her passing was painless and of her own volition helped.
But Mikey’s death was different. It was sudden, unexpected, and messy and it wasn’t the death Michael deserved. But what made it all the worse for you is that he was utterly and terribly alone.
And it wasn’t like anyone wasn’t privy to his substance abuse, but none of you knew the depths to which it ate away at him, how it slowly killed him and he kept pushing on for the sake of others.
Maybe you should’ve asked him more about how he was doing when you interviewed him. Maybe you shouldn’t have sent him a portion of your article. Standing at the cemetery as the funeral continued, even with little Eva cuddling into you and Tiff and Richie surrounding you; you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to all the things you could’ve done to save Mikey from himself.
Eva was asleep against your chest as you made your way to the fresh grave, Tiff in front of you and Richie closely behind doing his best to cover your small group with the umbrella. The rain hadn’t let up as you raised your dirt-filled hand over the pristine casket, this didn’t feel right at all. You had yet to cry since Sugar called you days ago with the news, it felt as though you were numb to the truth. Maybe it was your mind's way of protecting you.
But as long as the casket remained closed, and you never got one last peek at the man who had taught you that you deserved more than what you settled for. You could pretend for just a little longer that none of this was real.
Releasing your grip on the dirt you watched as it splashed across the top of the casket mixing with the droplets of rain. You hesitated for a minute turning your back on this casket felt too final, like leaving this cemetery would be closing a door in your life you were desperate to keep open.
Richie’s free hand came up to your shoulder, a soft squeeze pressed into your jacket. You looked back at him the same hurt and pain you were feeling reflected on his face. He gave you a small nod as a way to let you know that it was okay to walk away, that he understood the hurt you were feeling.
As Tiff walked off to her car, you held Eva in one hand and allowed Richie to grip your other. The warm grasp of his hand gave you the strength to turn your back and walk away from a man whose love, charisma, and smile you would never be blessed to see or experience again.
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March 12, 2022
Carmy sat on his lawn chair watching the rain splash against the window that led to his balcony, the funeral program rested lazily on his lap held in place by his pack of cigarettes and lighter. He didn’t realize it but this had been his routine since he learned of his brother's passing.
He would come home not even bothering to change out of his work clothes and plop down in the creaky lawn chair, usually on his balcony but recently the weather hadn’t been calm enough for that.
Light up a cigarette and just bask in his despair.
The only difference had been the program he received in the mail a week ago. The newly acquired folded paper joined his after-work routine for the day after being left on the island in his kitchen since receiving it. 
Carmy wasn’t sure if he was angry at Mikey for choosing death, or if he was more hurt by what they would never again be able to experience with each other. He felt like once again Mikey had left him behind, not thinking about the ways his actions would affect those around him, affect the people who loved him.
The decision to skip the funeral wasn’t as hard as most would have thought. What good would Carmy have to offer by being there, it's not like anyone needed him. And anyway, he couldn’t just drop everything happening here in New York for a day, life didn’t work that way for him. 
Carmy knew he didn’t hate Mikey, he just didn’t understand his choices recently. Didn’t necessarily understand how much the prescriptions had fucked with his mind. And maybe in a selfish way, he wasn’t ready to understand, to forgive Mikey for leaving him so soon. Nothing to even show for the loss of the person who inspired him most besides the funeral program as an ugly reminder of what he could never be again.
A soft knock rang through the quiet apartment, the man inside happy to ignore it, sure it was just one of his neighbors doing whatever weird shit they usually did. He removed a cigarette from his pack standing up and setting the program in the chair before grabbing his lighter and moving to open the window.
He heard it again, this time a bit louder and more urgent sounding. Carmy removed his phone from his pocket, the generic lock screen shining up at him with the time reading 2:30 am.
No one had ever shown up at his apartment this late, not even the woman across the way who periodically tried to charm Carmy all kinds of inconvenient times of the night. The knocking finally stopped as muffled voices carried through the hallway outside his door.
Carmy wouldn’t consider himself a nosy neighbor but he did find himself a bit curious who was knocking at his door at such an hour it alerted another tenant. Cigarette sitting between his lips he made his way to the door, ear leaned against it as he tried to catch bits and pieces of the conversation happening out there.
Having no such luck he resorted to checking the peephole to find his neighbor outside her door talking with a woman who appeared to be soaked to the bone. Carmy watched for a moment, he couldn’t place it but something about the unknown woman looked familiar to him. He continued watching his neighbor motioning for the woman to wait outside for a moment while she grabbed something from her apartment.
Carmy was ready to return to his initial smoke break but found himself stopping as the woman faced his door. Heart stopping as he took in features he would remember for a lifetime. He quickly moved to unlock his door, throwing it open only to surprise the ghost of a woman standing in his hallway.
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You ceased your knocking as you heard a door opening behind you, turning to face a woman who appeared to be around the same age as you. From her appearance, it didn’t seem like you had woken her up so you were grateful for that fact.
“You’re making a mess in the hallway,” her eyes traveled over your form. Your figure sopping wet from the downpour you just escaped from.
A tired sigh left your lips, “Um, I’m sorry to bother you, but do you know the guy who lives here?” Your hand motioned to the door that was at your back that you had just been knocking on. 
“You a friend or something?” The skepticism in the woman’s voice irked you, it was a yes or no question there was no need for her to give you the third degree.
You nodded trying to keep your cool. You were tired, dripping wet, and you weren’t even sure if Carmy was home. “Yeah, something like that.”
She gave you another once over before shaking her head back and forth, “No I don’t, sorry.” She began to close her door before you called out to her one last time.
“Wait sorry, is there any way I could use your phone, mine is dead,” you presented your phone as evidence, you didn’t want to be in this woman’s presence any more than she wanted to put up with you, but you needed to at least call a cab.
The subtle roll of her eyes caused the grip on your phone to tighten, luckily though the woman gave you a gesture to wait there before returning to her apartment.
You let out a sigh of relief, head dropping as your thoughts raced. You had no idea what the hell was going through your mind when you booked the last-minute flight. Having found Carmen’s address written on a forgotten piece of paper lying in the kitchen of the Berzatto family home.
The excuse to Sugar was that you had to meet with a potential interviewee for an upcoming article and couldn’t reschedule. You had already been in Chicago for longer than you originally planned, so what was one impromptu plane ride to the east coast?
There was no sign that the woman you bothered was coming back anytime soon so you decided to cut your losses, you would find a pay phone or something to use. You turned around sending one last look at Carmy’s door, the feeling that this was all for nothing setting in.
You went to pick up your bag from the ground when the sounds of a door unlocking caught your attention, raising back up to your full height as you watched the door you were initially knocking on harshly swing open.
Separated by a threshold Carmen Berzatto stood in front of you clad in his disheveled chef whites looking just as exhausted as you felt. You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry if this trip did end up paying off, but after five years without him, five years of hurting and hoping you could no longer hold back all the emotions the man evoked within you.
Your trembling lips raised into a pathetic smile as your eyes took all of him in, “Hi Carmy.”
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The water dripped off of you as you awkwardly stood in the entryway to Carmy’s apartment. You watched him rush around to tidy up his apartment, he hadn’t said a word to you yet just opened his door wider with the expectation that you would enter.
“Carm,” your trembling voice doing nothing to stop the scrambling of the man in front of you.
“Carmen.” The name left your lips a little louder this time, finally gaining the man’s attention, his entire being turning in your direction but eyes never meeting yours. “Uh, could I maybe take a shower?”
Carmy’s head nodded rapidly, staying glued to his spot for a moment before he signaled for you to follow him. As you walked through the apartment to his bedroom you couldn’t help but take in just how Carmy-like the living space was.
Lacking personal touch and like he was ready to flee at a moment's notice; the only commitment the man could make was being a chef apparently.
You stopped in front of the bathroom looking around his room before finally focusing on him. “I, do you think I could borrow some clothes?”
Again Carmy nodded the man acting as though his voice box wasn’t working. You watched him move around his room wondering if he’d ever award you any form of attention or verbal acknowledgment. He stopped for a minute eyes finally finding yours, “Go ahead and get cleaned up, I’ll leave these on the bed.”
Your eyes found the contents in his hand before it was your turn to nod and head into the bathroom. You started the shower searching for a towel and washcloth as you waited for the water to heat up. This whole trip could very well be a mistake, but there was no going back now, you were here, and you had already used your miles. 
Slipping out of your wet clothes felt like a struggle, the heavy fabric clinging to you like a second skin. You quickly stepped into the shower, not wanting any of the water to go to waste. The steaming water helped to relax you, all your worries about your visit being set aside as you basked in the warmth radiating around you.
After standing under the shower head and allowing the water to caress your skin, you reached for the products Carmy had lined up in his shower. The shower gel is the same brand you used all those years ago on Christmas. Looking at the bottle in your hands you couldn’t help but think of all the ways in which Carmy wronged you, why you had allowed him to constantly hurt you, a fact you still couldn’t figure out.
And you couldn’t stand here in his shower glaring at a bottle the whole time you were here either. You took your time lathering your body allowing the calming aroma of lavender to invade your senses. Finishing you returned everything to its proper spot before rinsing your body and shutting the shower off.
Stepping out you wrapped the large fluffy towel around your body not chancing a glance at your reflection as you exited the bathroom. The door to the bedroom was closed and the clothes you saw in Carmy’s hands earlier sat in a neat pile on the bed. You perused the selection of a clean pair of boxer shorts, one of his many crew necks and a pair of socks were laid out for you.
The deja vu the last few sequences of events had given you hadn’t gone unnoticed. 
You would have to forgo a bra but you’d been in much more uncomfortable positions with Carmy than this. Dressing you made your way to the door, stopping for a moment to allow yourself a deep breath, you couldn’t be sure what you would be walking into. Along with the fact that you were in a city you had never been in and your return flight wasn’t for two more days, Carmy was your only option. 
The warmth in the apartment slapped you in the face as you left Carmy’s room, the heater had been turned on. You followed the trail you had first taken finding your way to the living room that doubled as a kitchen.
“Sit,” you were almost ready to argue with Carmy’s demanding tone, but the food situated on the island counter stopped you.
You made your way to the lone stool taking a seat, trying not to marvel at the food in front of you. Carmy’s water bill would be high for the month, you had apparently been in the shower long enough for a dinner of grilled cheese and tomato soup to be made. Carmy still hard at work making something on the stovetop sans his chef jacket.
Eyeing the food in front of you, you couldn’t help the way your mouth watered. You greedily picked up a slice of the grilled cheese and dipped it into the hearty soup, The sigh of appreciation not going unnoticed by the chef a few feet away from you, a small smirk gracing his lips at the quiet sound you let out.
“Good?” The question caught you off guard, mouth still full, swallowing the bite in your mouth you set the rest of the sandwich down, eyes zeroing in on Carmy’s biceps that were put on full display by his form-fitting white shirt. 
“I’ve had better.” Carmy caught your shrug as he placed a steaming mug next to the rest of your food, doing his best not to outright smile at your stubborn attitude. He moved to lean his back against the sink, arms crossed over his chest as he studied you.
“Fuck Carmy,” the sigh left your lips reluctantly. “It’s actually fucking great.” So enthralled with the food set in front of you, you missed the pink blush that dusted across Carmy’s cheeks. The heat in the apartment almost felt like too much as the lewd words left your lips.
“Ahem, I uh, I’m gonna get cleaned up. Make yourself comfortable,” Carmy watched as you waved him off, the food you were eating stealing all of your attention.
Carmy watched you for a moment longer, still shocked that your physical presence was here in his apartment. He wasn’t sure what prompted this visit, or if he even deserved your attention after all the immature shit he had pulled. But he was thankful to see you doing well, to see you looking as though you belonged with him in his bland apartment the clothes comfortably sitting on your body providing him with a feeling of domesticity he was one day hoping to have with you.
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The mug of hot chocolate in your hands helped to send warmth through your body. You were still sitting at the stool not sure what to do as Carmy freshened himself up. Now that you weren’t shivering cold and rushing through the apartment you could finally take in the less than cozy abode. 
It wasn’t much but you were sure it was enough for Carmy, taking a few sips of your drink you began ambling around the apartment, mug still gripped in your hands, a tether to reality. The living room wasn’t messy but more so what you would describe as Carmy’s version of organized clutter.
A small couch and television helped to offer a homey feeling. The out-of-place lawn chair caught your eye, and the corner of your lips quirked up at how fucking Carmy it was. You made your way to the window it was sitting in front of, the New York skyline at this time of the day still a sight to see. The rain gliding down the window felt like it matched the steady pace of your heartbeat.
Turning to the lawn chair the contents in the seat grabbed your attention. Leaning over you picked up the unassuming paper, a jolt of sadness rushing through you as you read over the program. The funeral a week ago is still stuck in the back of your mind, the closed sleek black casket haunting your eyelids every night.
You quickly replaced the program in its original spot. You had come here intending to confront Carmy about his absence, but the more you stood in his apartment, the more you realized you weren’t actually ready to hear Carmy’s truth.
48 hours was all you had here, if you decided to use it as an escape, so be it. You would have to return to the reality that Mikey was dead sooner than later. You were allowed to let yourself use the time spent here as an escape from reality. You could use your time here to reprimand Carmy for his life decisions, or you could use the borrowed time to relish in finally seeing him after five years and try to figure out the back and forth the two of you have been participating in for a majority of your lives.
Mikey would understand, he wanted you to be happy, so it was okay to pretend for a little while that he’d be waiting there in Chicago when you got back right?
You made your way back to the kitchenette needing a distraction from the very thoughts you were running away from. You finished off your hot cocoa before grabbing your remaining dishes and heading to the sink. Washing dishes was the first distraction you could think of. 
As you made your way to the sink the sound of a door opening and feet padding across the floor could be heard. Quickly turning on the faucet you reached for the dish rag sitting in the sink, a sharp gasp escaping your lips at the pain that shot through the base of your palm, the running water easily turning a translucent pink color.
Snatching your hand back you spotted the blade of a knife that was covered in drops of your blood and haphazardly hidden under the dish rag. Your good hand reached to move the dish rag and grab the offending object. 
Finally getting a good grip on the knife, you were shocked at the familiarity of it, the personal initials carved into the handle proving your theory. The last time you laid eyes on these they were neatly tucked away into a luxurious gift box that Carmy discarded just as easily as he discarded you the morning after Christmas. 
And you thought they had been left in the same spot all these years, collecting dust in his childhood bedroom. But as you held a knife from the set in your hand, and your eyes moved to the remaining set delicately placed on the counter not too far away, you realized that to be nowhere near the truth. 
“Yo, what the fuck Baby,” your attention turned to Carmy’s voice behind you his figure clad in a pair of sweats and a white tank top. That stupid fucking gold chain that you had dreamed of taking between your teeth one too many times glistened against the firmness of his chest.
The delicate grip on your injured hand tore your eyes from the sinful chain. Carmy’s eyes raised your hand to his face examining the seriousness of the wound, “What happened?” 
“Cut myself,” you raised the knife in your hand to show him, watching as his eye darted between you and the tool he took so much pride in owning.
“What the fuck did you do that for?” Carmen Berzatto’s attitude would never cease to surprise you.
You scoffed quickly snatching your hand from his grip, and walking to grab the dish towel hanging from his oven, “I didn’t do it on purpose you fucking idiot.” 
Carmy began rummaging around in his cabinets his search not continuing for too long before he made his way over to you, first aid kit in his grasp. You were honestly surprised he owned one sure he’d rather bask in his pain than take care of himself.
Your good hand shot out aiming to grab the first aid kit from his hands. The slight slap to your hand caused your mouth to drop open, who the hell did he think he was?
“Give me the kit Carmen.” You watched as his eyes met yours, the once blank expression on his face morphing into a frown. 
“Don’t say my name like that,” you rolled your eyes before reaching out once again, only to receive the same result. “Just let me help you. Why are you being so fucking stubborn!”
You raised your eyebrows not expecting Carmy to yell at you. Your hand reluctantly came up between the two of you so he could bandage it up. It was official that you were weak for this man, the demanding tone in his voice shooting straight through you. 
The two of you sat in silence as Carmy cleaned the cut, the consensus was that you didn’t need stitches so the ointment and bandages Carmy had would do. You watched as he worked, hands delicately mending your wound he was so focused on.
When he finished you lowered your hand watching as he cleaned up before you made your exit to the living room, sitting on one side of the couch. Your back was to the kitchen as Carmy finished tidying up, the only sign he followed you out was him walking around the couch in your peripheral.
He joined you on the couch choosing the safe option and sitting directly across from you, the space speaks volumes. You brought your legs up to your chest, if this was a month ago you probably would have let all your hurt and anger guide you in this moment. 
But as life taught you, the universe was eager to snatch away people you thought you had forever with. 
It was silent for a little longer, the both of you avoiding eye contact. You finally turned to face him wanting to understand the choices he made regarding the situation between you two.
“Carmy?” You rested your chin atop your knees as he finally provided you with his full attention, “Did I do something wrong?”
His eyebrows raised, whether, from shock or surprise, you couldn’t be sure. You watched as his eyes darted across the room like he was looking for an anchor. You weren’t too sure who adult Carmy was, because the boy you used to know easily held conversations with you, even the tough ones. 
“I just…I want to understand you, Carmy. And I want to know why I’m not good enough for you,” as soon as those words left your lips it was like you were looking at 18-year-old Carmy again. “I thou-we seemed to be in a good place after Christmas dinner, but then I woke up alone and…and it felt like we were back at square one like you ghosted me all over again.”
You were staring directly into Carmy’s eyes, it was hard but it needed to be done. You needed him to see, to understand how much his actions continued hurting you. 
His hand raised in a gesture you had seen too many times to count, fingers running through his hair. If he didn’t want to have this conversation you couldn’t force him to, but you also wouldn’t keep allowing him to run in and out of your life when it was convenient for him. The two of you were friends once, and you weren’t going to allow him to continue exploiting the love you had for him.
Your arms wrapped around your propped-up legs, a security blanket for the words you were about to force out. “You can be honest with me, Carmy. If you told me you wanted nothing to do with me I’d be on the next flight out of here.” You waited for anything, a sigh, words, but all you got was his steel blue eyes staring you down in the space across from you. 
A sardonic chuckle escaped your lips as you quickly wiped the tears racing down your cheeks. Head falling back to stare at the ceiling as a way to not allow Carmy to see your tears, before calming yourself down enough to meet his gaze head-on.
“I can’t be the only one that wants more for us Carmy.” You could see the light reflecting off the glazed film in his eyes. “And I don’t think I am. But you’re inconsistent with your feelings, and I know it’s wrong of me to spring this on you considering the circumstances…but I just need honesty Carmy, that’s all.”
You said your peace, but you weren’t sure what else you could say to try to make him understand and maybe that was the problem, maybe he didn’t want to understand. You leaned into the couch cushion for comfort. The distance stretching between you was nowhere near as hurtful as the silence.
The fatigue from your flight was beginning to set in, you rushed everything to make it here that you hadn’t realized how much of a toll it took on you. 
Carmy watched you from his side of the couch, arms crossed against his chest. There was so much he wanted to say to you but didn’t know how. He knew you deserved the truth, but it had never before been asked of him in this context. He was scared of the fact that he wanted more with you; it  frightened him.
The idea he had of the two of you in his head was intoxicating and unnerving all at once. He could admit to himself that he dreamed of a life with you, and found himself lost in thought too many times to count about what it would be like to come home after a long shift to you there waiting for him.
Carmen was intoxicated by the idea of spending the rest of his life with you, a continuous beacon in your life that surpassed the title of friend and edged into something more. But he was unnerved as well because he wasn’t sure if this was love or infatuation.
Loving you unnerved Carmy, firstly because he wasn’t sure how he would know he was in love with you or not. And secondly, he didn’t know how to love you and wasn’t sure if he was capable of it. If there was one thing Carmy knew it was that you were deserving of a life-altering love, a love that transcended lifetimes if possible.
But he was almost positive he couldn’t be that person for you, he wasn’t deserving of you.
“I uh, I tried calling you,” Carmy stopped to collect himself, he wanted to talk to you, to let you understand him like you once did. “You changed your number. And that’s not an excuse. I understood why. I just…I guess I took it as a sign that there was nothing left for us.”
His eyes met yours searching for any sort of reaction, any form of acknowledgment. Your puffy eyes and tear-stained face stared back at him, his heart clenching in his chest at the emotional distress he constantly put you through.
“I um,” a placating smile raised to Carmy’s lips as he fumbled with his fingers as a distraction. “I can’t-Baby I-we both know I can’t give you what you deserve.” Carmy did his best to play off the watery undertone in his voice, eyes quickly darting up to yours as he heard your sniffles.
Carmy watched as your head rapidly nodded up and down, a sad knowing smile stretching across your lips. The tightness in his chest increased tenfold, his hand coming up to press into the middle of his chest, hoping to alleviate the pain. 
“I um, I think I would like to go to sleep if that’s okay?” You raised your head to look at Carmy, you told him you would accept his rejection, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t going to hurt. 
Carmy nodded getting up and walking towards you, holding his hand out to help you up. You allowed him to grasp your soft hand in his firm calloused one, head down as he led you to his bedroom. He motioned for you to sit down on his bed as he escaped into the bathroom, coming back a moment later with tissues in his hand.
You avoided his eyes as he bent down on his knees in front of you, gently using the collected tissue to dab at your puffy face. You couldn’t help the sorrowful laugh that escaped your lips, the scene reminded you of when the two of you were growing up and Carmy would always help clean your face after a good cry.
A tight smile formed on his lips as his eyes met yours, the two of you probably thinking of the same memories. He finished drying your face before returning to the bathroom to throw away the tissues. Carmy helped you up from the bed to pull down his comforter before allowing you to get in.
He watched as you scooted over to make room for him awaiting his entrance, “Uh lemme just tidy up out there.” Both of you knew it was an excuse but neither were brave enough to admit it. 
Carmy quickly left the room heading straight for the small duffle you had brought with you. He was sure the rain had soaked through your bag and wet your belongings. Making his way to the closet where his washer and dryer were located he easily fit your clothes into the wash, not wanting you to be stuck in his clothes for however long you were there.
He found your laptop bag in there as well, quickly removing it from its confines and drying it with a clean kitchen towel. Placing the laptop on his counter he made his way around the kitchenette to clean up the mess your blood made and finish off the dishes you hadn’t been able to wash. All of this was a distraction to the warm body he knew was waiting up for him in bed, he felt the urge to prolong the inevitable but realized he might never get this chance again.
Carmy quickly finished his clean of the front room, it wasn’t up to his usual standards but he could no longer deny himself the thing he wanted most in that moment; to wrap you up in his arms and hope he’d never have to let go.
Making sure all appliances were off and starting the washer, he quickly made his way back into his bedroom, closing the door as quietly as he could. He stood in the middle of the room for a minute, the figure peacefully lying in his bed not something he was used to. Carmy quietly crept over to the empty side of the bed lifting the covers and allowing himself to slide in.
Carmy knew you weren’t asleep and any other time he might’ve felt embarrassed to be so eager to be near you, but something about being in your presence felt right. Carmy made sure to scoot close to you, arm moving to wrap around your midsection and bring you closer to him, the need to feel your body pressed against his barely being satisfied.
His face found its way to the crook of your neck, taking a deep breath, the lavender scent he loved so much dancing across his senses. The sigh you let out into the night was a sign that you both wanted this just as much.
Carmy moved his head up a few inches, lips brushing against the ‘B’ hidden behind your ear. There wasn’t a day he didn’t think about the hidden ink stain or the words you said to him when he first found it.
Pressing one more soft kiss against the inkblot Carmy felt as you relaxed into him. Your warm body in his arms once more provided a feeling of bliss he wasn’t aware he needed.
You both knew the position you were in and the soft caress of Carmy’s lips against your skin, was a direct contradiction of the claims he made earlier. But neither of you would be the voice of reason in these 48 hours you had together.
Whatever happened between the two of you during this time would be welcomed with open arms. You and Carmy were on borrowed time, there would be time for regrets later, but as Carmy held you in his arms he decided that he would try to give you pieces of himself that no one had ever seen; even if it would all end in hours. 
“Sweet dreams Baby.” 
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Carmy looked most at peace while sleeping, the stress and exhaustion seemed to have melted off of him as his mind transported him to the land of dreams.
You had been awake for some time now, Carmy’s presence helpful enough to allow you a few peaceful hours of sleep. But the inevitable thoughts of a life lost would always haunt you through the night. So here you were watching the slight rise and fall of Carmy’s chest, his lips parted slightly. He looked adorable like this but you felt a little weird just watching someone sleep. 
Your hand raised gently moving the waves out of Carmy’s face, leaning in slightly to press a delicate kiss on his forehead before quietly making your way out of the bed. It was a little tricky to open the door without waking Carmy but you had managed.
Leaving the hallway that led to Carmy’s room you entered the living room, searching for the duffle you brought with you. Only to find it open on the floor, your toiletry bag the only item that remained in the bottom of the bag. Confusion swept across your face as you tried to figure out where the rest of your belongings were.
Looking around the living area you spotted your laptop resting on the counter, your laptop bag sitting on a towel next to it. You would figure things out later. The first thing you wanted to do right now was to brush your teeth.
You quickly tip-toed back into Carmy’s room and the bathroom quietly shutting the door behind you and beginning your morning routine. Now refreshed you exited the bathroom, a small smile gracing your lips as you took in Carmy’s still-sleeping figure. 
Perusing the fridge and pantry you found a lack of any edible food. The few things available allowed you to whip up some French toast. You were no chef and maybe you should’ve left the cooking to Carmy but you were hoping this could be an olive branch for the two of you. If Carmy didn’t want to be with you romantically, maybe the two of you could work on mending your friendship.
Carmy woke up to an empty bed, his first thoughts that you had escaped in the night, his heart clenching a bit at the thought. He couldn’t be mad he pulled the same stunt on you, turning to lay on his back he stared at his ceiling, mind racing as he thought about the conversation from yesterday. 
Carmy knew he wanted to be happy, and he also knew he wanted that with you. He just didn’t know the first thing about romantic love or how to explicitly make his wants clear to you. It seemed as though he’d never get that chance, you were serious about catching the next flight out. 
Sitting up in bed he looked around, trying to gain his bearings. The sound of his bedroom door opening jolted him from his thoughts. He watched as you walked in with two plates in your hands, the smell of French toast invading his senses. His eyes found yours as you stopped in the doorway a small shy smile sent in his direction.
“I made us breakfast,” Carmy watched you make your way towards him, taking a plate off your hands as you sat on the bed in front of him. “I hope you don’t mind French toast, you uh didn’t have much to work with.” 
Carmy’s eyes subtly lit up at the fact that you were still there, that you hadn’t left. “No, yeah this is great, you uh, used cinnamon and everything.” The shy teasing smile on Carmy’s face caused a small chuckle to bubble out of you.
The two of you ate in silence for the most part, each of you stealing glances at one another while the other wasn’t paying attention. Shy smiles sent each other’s way when one of you would catch the other’s eye. 
You watched as Carmy took the plate from your hands and made his way to the door, you sat there for a moment watching him walk away before getting up and following behind him. You silently took a seat on the stool at the counter watching as Carmy began cleaning the remaining breakfast dishes.
The stretch of his back muscles under the tank top he was wearing was a sight to see. It surprised you a bit how toned Carmy was considering he lived and breathed being a chef, you didn’t expect him to have free time to worry about his physique. 
You waited as Carmy finished sending him a small smile as he finally faced you. He made his way to you, the two of you separated by the counter, his forearms resting on the counter accentuated his toned biceps.
“I actually need to go to the farmer’s market today,” you waited to see if there was anything more he had to say but the silence drew on.
“Oh, I can stay here, I have work to finish.” You gestured your hand to the laptop not far from the two of you, trying not to let your disappointment show.
“Did you maybe wanna join me,” Carmy waited for your response, eyes darting around your face hoping you would say yes.
“Do you…want me to join you?” You could laugh, the two of you sitting here beating around the bush like two teenagers. 
You waited as you took in Carmy’s shy demeanor, the blush rising from his neck, you were tempted to point it out but didn’t want him to close himself off like you were used to. 
“I want you to come with me to the farmers market.” Carmy made sure to look you in the eyes as the words left his mouth, sure that he was red in the face but wanting you to know how much he wanted to spend time with you. 
The two of you stared at each other for a while, the toothy grin on your face mirroring the his smaller one. The small nod of your head was everything Carmy needed to see for his heartbeat to calm down. He watched as you giddily got up from your seat presumably to get ready.
“Oh um did you do something with my clothes?” The smile didn’t seem to be leaving your face anytime soon.
Carmy cleared his throat hand raising to scratch the back of his neck, “Yeah I, uh I washed them, they’re in my closet.” 
You couldn’t deny that those words made your heart pick up speed a bit, the idea of feeling giddy that your clothes were in Carmy’s closet was a bit childish, but you would take what you could get at this point. 
“Oh, okay I’ll just go get ready then.” Your hand gestured to the room behind you.
“Yeah,” Carmy couldn’t help but marvel at the idea of you getting ready in his apartment, it was almost like he could pretend this was his reality.
“Yeah,” you didn’t know why you were acting like a love-struck teenager but Carmy just brought it out of you.
“Okay,” Carmy nodded his head signaling you to take your leave.
“Oka-.”
“Baby just go get fucking ready.” A huff of laughter escaped Carmy at the way you were acting.
Carmy stood by the counter watching as you ran off to prepare yourself for the day. He couldn’t stop the smile from gracing his lips as he listened to your melodic laughter sing through the emptiness of his apartment.
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You had split from Carmy a few booths back, the two of you deciding it was for the best. Your constant wandering off to booths that intrigued you put Carmy in a panic when he would look to see you no longer at his side. 
It was your first time in New York and you were just happy to take in this small portion of what the city had to offer. The farmer’s market here was similar to the ones you’d been to back home, though the weather would take some getting used to, not like you needed to. You’d be back in Chicago before you knew it. 
You found a small flea market-type area towards the back of the farmers market. Vendors gathered around selling handmade items and keepsakes. A few minutes into your perusal of the area you found a vendor selling handmade clothing items. A pretty cami dress caught your eye that the vendor exclaimed you just had to have, and who were you to turn down a beautiful dress selling for a decent price in the streets of New York.
With the dress nicely tucked away into a paper bag gently swinging from your arm, you decided it was time to make your way back to the entrance of the farmers market and wait for Carmy. On your journey back you stopped at a vendor selling handmade leather goods, a particular leather wallet drawing your attention.
The familiarity of it caused you to let loose a shuddering breath, the small item reminded you of Mikey’s wallet. Although his was more used, worn in. Standing on this street and looking down at the pristine wallet in front of you was almost like looking at a replica.
You remembered asking him once why he chose to use the ratty old thing and the smart-ass response he had given you. The fact that an inanimate object that had no ties to Mikey was causing this sort of reaction inside you, felt too real, it felt like grief was prepared to sink its claws into you. 
And you couldn’t allow it, because you were in New York finally on somewhat good terms with Carmy. And Mikey would be waiting for your return to Chicago, eager to hear about your time with his little brother. 
“Would you like to buy it, miss?” Your eyes found the vendors, a forced smile tracing your lips.
You slowly shook your head feeling a little bad for turning down goods from a small business, you just didn’t need the wallet, especially not one that would remind you of him every day.
The walk back to the farmers market felt melancholy: the promise to yourself to compartmentalize Mikey and his situation was becoming harder the more time you spent alone. Your search for Carmy became more urgent the longer you couldn’t find him. The racing images of Mikey’s casket swirling with your recent moments spent in Carmy’s presence. 
You didn’t want to burden Carmy with the debilitating thoughts you were having, not wanting to ruin the good thing the two of you had going. Neither of you brought up the elephant in the room and it seemed like neither of you was going to. The both of you content to live in momentary bliss for the time you had together. 
It felt like you were spiraling and all because of some stupid too similar fucking wallet. You finally made your way to the entrance of the market hoping Carmy would know to look for you there.
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Carmy gathered the ingredients necessary for the dinner he planned for tonight, luckily for him the restaurant was closed on Sundays so he could spend the day with you. 
He still wasn’t sure that any of this was real. You showing up outside his apartment at two in the morning, holding you as you slept, and now adventuring out to the market he frequented, it all felt like a dream.
There was one last stop Carmy needed to make before he met up with you. He made his way to the old flower vendor who was always the first one here to ensure he set up a show at the entrance. Carmy had his fair share of conversations with the man but had never actually bought any flowers off of him, but today was the day that changed. 
“Carmen is that you?” Carmy raised his head from the flowers he was glancing at, the old man sitting on the stool smiling his way.
“Yes sir. How you doing today Willie?” Carmy wasn’t much into friends or acquaintances since the two of you parted ways all those years ago, but Willie was a special case. Always kind, on Carmy’s first visit to this particular market the older man had explained to him the layout and gave him insider information about what times were best to come to ensure he got the freshest ingredients from each vendor. 
“You thinking about buying something today son?” The older man rose from his seated position plopping the paper he was reading in his place.
Carmy nodded eyes going back to the various flowers to choose from. This wasn’t Carmy, he had never done something like this, not willingly at least. But he knew flowers could symbolize different things, and have different meanings. And if he couldn’t figure out how to be straightforward and speak with you, maybe a hand-picked bouquet could solve that issue. 
“Looking for anything in particular?” He glanced at Willie, a slight frown marring his face, he genuinely had no idea.
Carmy chuckled, hand raising to scratch the nape of his neck, “I’m not sure Willie.” He felt a little embarrassed. How was he to translate his feelings to you through horticulture if he knew nothing about flowers and their meanings.
“Well help me out boy, tell me who they’re for an maybe I can whip something up for you.” It was like perfect timing as Carmy heard your voice trickling into his ears. You were standing on the other side of the entrance phone to your ear as you spoke to somebody, a look of exhaustion on your features.
Carmy’s eyes caught yours as you glanced in his direction, he watched that beautiful smile appear as you quickly ended the call with whoever you were talking to, smile mirroring yours as you two stared at each other across the distance. Your hand raised in a shy wave smile growing wider as Carmy reciprocated the gesture. 
“Now Carmen, why didn’t you tell me these were for your old lady,” Carmy’s head shot around to find Willie smirking at him from his side of the booth. “Is that the young lady in that picture you keep in your wallet?” 
Carmy watched frozen, as Willie moved around his booth, trying his best to figure out when the older man had ever caught a glance at the picture of you two. “Uh, she’s just a friend sir.” 
“Listen, boy, you can lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to me. And I know you betta not be lying to that pretty girl over there.” The flowers in Willie’s hand were used to point in your direction. 
“I saw the way she looked at you just now son, that girl is in love,” Carmy listened as Willie began constructing the bouquet, ears tuned to what the man was saying. 
“I’ll give it to you straight boy, you’re gonna regret every chance you didn’t take with that young lady. Now I don’t know the situation between you two, but what I do know is that you look at that girl like she invented oxygen, I know because that’s how I looked at my Debbie.” Carmy was raptly intrigued with Willie’s words, watching the sad smile take over his lips as he mentioned his recently deceased wife.
“And from our interactions you don’t seem to me like the type to let rare opportunities pass you by,” the bouquet seemed to be pretty much finished, the older man just putting the final touches. “Now you give that pretty young lady this here bouquet, you make her a nice dinner like I’m sure you planned. And you let her know how much you appreciate her.” 
Carmy nodded his head rapidly trying to take in everything the older man said. His breath hitched in his throat as he watched Willie wave you over to them.
“Excuse me miss? Why don’t you come on over here and join us.” Carmy could feel the panic rising within him.
“N- Willie No don-.”
“Hush up boy and introduce me to your lovely girl.” You stopped next to Carmy eyes widening as you took in the unknown man's words. 
You looked at Carmy as he brought his hand up to swipe across his mouth, a tight-lipped smile lining his lips afterwards.
“Hi sweetie I’m Willie Carmen’s only friend in this city,” you laughed as the man winked at you before holding his hand out listening as you introduced yourself. 
“It’s nice to meet you Willie, you have some beautiful flowers, do you harvest them yourself?” The man in front of you waved off the compliment with a serene smile on his face.
“My wife and I started selling at this market 20 years ago. This is my first year without her.” The smile on your lips faltered as you offered your condolences.
“Now I don’t wanna keep you too long, but this bouquet here is for you to miss.” You looked at Carmy before your eyes found Willie’s again, your cheeks warming at what the man was insinuating. 
“Oh um, thank you so much. How much do I owe you?” Your wallet was out and ready in your hand, Carmy’s hand shooting out to stop you as he thrust money forward. 
“Y’all put that money away now,” Willie shook his head scoffing at the idea of either of you paying.
He held out the bouquet in your direction, the smile lining his face urged you to take it. You couldn’t help but marvel at the beautiful bouquet, the colorful assortment helping to ease the foreboding feeling you had earlier. 
“Our friend Carmen here chose each of those flowers,” you looked in Carmy’s direction, the blush on his face so endearing to you. “I went on ahead and tucked a card in there with their meanings. You two make a fine pair, don’t let life get in the way of the love you share, you hear me?”
You nodded avoiding Carmy’s eyes like your life depended on it, easily listening to the wisdom Willie was bestowing upon the two of you. 
“The world is kind but she is also cruel. She will take away the things we love even if we’re not ready to part with them. Love each other loudly and with no regrets, it's always good to see young love prosper.”  The sad look in Willie’s eyes pulled at your heartstrings, you stood there wondering if he had any regrets. 
The clearing of Carmy’s throat finally drew your attention from the wise older man in front of you. “Thank you Willie really, but we should be heading home.” 
Willie nodded a pleasant smile on his lips, “Damn right! The two of you holdin up my business.” The older man shooed the two of you off a chuckle followed his gesture. 
“It was nice meeting you Willie, thank you again for the beautiful bouquet.” You sent him one last wave before you and Carmy moved away from the booth.
“It’s a gorgeous bouquet Carmy,” you glanced over the flowers before your eyes locked with Carmy’s, a loving smile splitting your face. 
Carmy smiled, unconsciously reaching out to move a stray piece of hair from your eyes, hurriedly dropping his hand and clearing his throat. “Let’s get them home and into some water yeah?” Carmy’s eyes darted around doing his best not to stare at you for too long.
You looked down trying to hide your smile, the word ‘home’ filled you with warmth. Your hand reached out to intertwine his with your own, avoiding Carmy’s eyes as they finally focused on you, “Lead the way.”
The gentle squeeze of your hand in Carmy’s made you smile, the two of you making your way back to his apartment. Neither of you mentioned holding hands as you journeyed home, just like neither of you said anything as you melted into his safe embrace on the subway ride.
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The two of you entered the small apartment, your laughs filtering through the hallway and into the entranceway. A run-in with Carmy’s neighbor across the hall was responsible for the now-dying laughter between the two of you.
“Is she always like that?” You stopped allowing Carmy to help you out of your jacket before he hung it up. You turned to him, taking the bags out of his hand as you made your way to the kitchen. Setting them on the counter before searching for something to hold your flowers. 
Carmy followed behind you after removing his own coat, hands falling to your waist as he moved around you to unload the few groceries he had gotten for tonight. “She uh, airdropped me a nude once, so right now was pretty tame I guess.” 
Your headshot to Carmy’s everything in you holding back the laugh that was desperately trying to escape. “Poor girl. Did you send one back?” You nudged your elbow into his watching as the blush on his cheeks deepened.
He maneuvered around you trying to ignore your teasing, “God no, we uh went out for drinks once, it was cool.” 
The crumbs he was giving you surprised you, “And nothing like came out of that?”
“I dunno was something supposed to?” Carmy made sure not to give you direct attention, mortified that he was even having this conversation with you in his kitchen.
“Well did you want it to?” You didn’t know why you had latched onto this topic of conversation so hard, it reminded you of the times Carmy would ramble to you about Claire. And if you were just spending the weekend with a friend wasn’t this the type of conversation you should be engaging in? 
Carmy turned to you as you finally found a glass big enough to support the bouquet, he watched as you filled the glass with water before trimming the stems. “Not with her, no.”
You looked up to see Carmy finally looking at you with a serious expression painting his flushed face. You couldn’t help it as your eyes dropped to his lips, clocking the subtle peak of his tongue poking out as he wet his lips. 
Carmy made his way towards you, Willie's words from earlier bouncing around in his head. He pulled the flower from your hand and placed it in the large glass he wasn’t even aware he had. He cleared his throat hoping he had enough confidence to get these words out.
“I’m gonna start on dinner, and you’re gonna go get ready,” his hand came up to hold the left side of your jaw, finger finding the spot behind your ear he always took special care to remember. “I want you to put on that pretty little dress you were gushing about on the way home.” Carmy stopped watching as you nodded your head showing that you were paying attention.
“Can you do that for me?” His eyes traced your face looking for any signs that you were uncomfortable.
Your lidded eyes lazily blinked up at him a quiet ‘yes’ escaped through your parted lips. A small smile rested on Carmy’s lips as he leaned in to plant a delicate kiss on your forehead, lips lingering for a moment too long.
He reluctantly removed himself from you waiting for you to scurry off. Surprised when you took a step closer to him and leaned in, a gentle press of your lips connecting to the corner of his. Carmy watched as you pulled away and smiled at him before taking your leave.
Carmy stood in his kitchen for a minute, heart racing as he realized what he had just done. The only place Carmy had ever been in control was in the kitchen, so maybe that’s why it was so easy for him to take control in that moment, well that and Willie’s lecture.
He was sure it would never happen again as he began preparing the ingredients for the lasagna he planned to make for the two of you. 
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You and Carmy had switched places a few minutes ago after he walked in on you wrapped in a towel and profusely apologized  for almost a whole minute. You easily slipped into your dress while Carmy was in the shower. 
As you walked into the living room you could smell the delicious aroma of the cuisine Carmy prepared for the two of you. You were glad to be out of Carmy’s presence for the time being, your brain doing its best to process the moment the two of you had shared in the kitchen. 
The cold shower you took did nothing to calm down the feelings swirling around inside you. You had never seen Carmy so in control of anything in his life, the demanding tone he used with you earlier almost had you making a fool of yourself right there in his kitchen. 
A constant beep coming from the oven drew your attention, you quickly made your way to the kitchen grabbing a towel to remove the hot dish from its place resting in the oven. You couldn’t help but marvel at the pretty lasagna in your hands. It was a bit weird to describe food as pretty, but the presentation was generally pleasing to the eyes.
You walked to the countertop to set the dish down, turning to search through the kitchen for plates and utensils. Having a slightly hard time as you had no idea where anything was located at.
“Baby?” The sound of Carmy’s voice startled you, not having heard him make his approach. 
You turned in his direction, a light laugh leaving your lips. It was a bit comical, the two of you dressed nicely, feet bare in his New York apartment. You took in his appearance biting your lip as you spotted his chain that encouraged you to do sinful things. He was dressed in probably the only slacks he owned, the ankles cuffed since he wasn’t wearing shoes. The deep green crew neck hugging his body was similar in color to the dress you were wearing, the unexpected matching caused another laugh to leave your lips. 
The box in his hand finally caught your attention, it appeared to be a present of some sort. You pointed at it with the random spoon you had picked up while searching for cutlery. 
“What’s that?” You furrowed your brows as you watched Carmy revert to his usual shy self. 
He held the gift out to you, “Go ahead, open it.” Your hand brushed his as you took the box from his hold feeling a bit giddy at the unsolicited gift.
Carmy held his breath as he watched you open a five-year-old gift in his kitchen. You looked beautiful and he wanted to tell you but couldn’t seem to force the words out too enthralled with the intimate atmosphere that had been surrounding the two of you since earlier in the kitchen. 
Carmy was a fool for leaving you the morning after Christmas and knowing that he let Mikey down when it came to you haunted him. He was glad to have these days with you, it wasn’t healthy but the two of you were providing a distraction for each other. 
“Carmy oh my goodness,” the gasp of your breath brought Carmy back to reality. His cheeks warmed at seeing you so happy. “How much did this even cost you, these things are like relics.” Your eyes flashed to the smile on your face seeming to brighten up the kitchen.
“It doesn’t matter, I bought this for Christmas and just…I never sent it.” He was prepared for you to scold him for his stupidity, tell him you didn’t care for the gift, and that you couldn’t play pretend with him anymore. 
The press of your warm body against his surprised him, quickly wrapping his arms around your waist. Holding onto you so tightly scared that if he let you go then you would disappear and he’d realize this weekend was just a dream.
“I love it Carmy really, thank you.” Your arms were still wrapped around his neck as the two of you gazed into each other's eyes. 
“Can I,” Carmy paused a laugh escaping his lips at the similarities between this moment and a past one you shared. “Can I kiss you?” 
You wasted no time before you leaned forward pressing a sweet kiss into his lips lingering for a moment to translate the love you felt for him. Carmy’s hand moved up to your jaw, keeping you locked in place against him, his tongue slipping out to caress your bottom lip.
You slowly opened your mouth allowing him in, the softness of his tongue exploring the warmth of your mouth. The kiss was slow, sensual, all the pent-up emotions being shared between the two of you. 
The rhythm Carmy set was easy for you to follow along with, you took the chance to suck on his tongue a bit, losing yourself in the feelings this one kiss was bringing forth.
You parted from Carmy reluctantly, a small smile raised to your lips as you watched him chase you for more. A soft moan escaped you as he began decorating kisses down your jaw and to your neck, tilting your head back to allow him better access, surprise painting your features as he raised you to sit on his counter. 
Carmy continued to study you with his lips, tracing down your pulse point and across your collarbone. It would never be enough for him, he would never be able to satisfy his hunger for you no matter how much of your skin his lips could paint. 
The soft whimpers snatched from your lips going straight to his groin, his hips unconsciously canting against your leg that was in perfect alignment. 
“Touch me Carmy…please,” Carmy swore he could cum from the sound of your begging alone.
But he stopped his ministrations, the realization that he had no idea what he was doing hitting him like a ton of bricks. 
You watched as Carmy pulled away from you chest rapidly puffing up and down as the confusion swept across your face. “Carmy?” Your voice trailed off you couldn’t help the hurt you were feeling, here you were sitting atop Carmy’s kitchen counter dress hiked up to your waist the lacy underwear you had chosen to wear in full view, the straps of your dress pulled down precariously low that the top of your areolas was peeking out. 
You quickly adjusted the top of your dress before hopping off the counter and pulling down the hem. Eyes filling with tears as you were brought back to prom night, memories re-playing all the hurt that came after it. 
Carmy’s head shot up from its place in his hands the tears in your waterline and the way you had shrunken into yourself making him feel like a complete fucking asshole.
“Shit no Baby…I-Fuck!” Carmy watched as you jolted a little at the shout of his voice, he was fucking this up more than it already was.
“Hey, hey,” he closed the distance between the two of you, raising his hands to your jaw and forcing you to look at him. “Baby, I-I’m sorry it's just…I don’t,” Carmy took a deep breath trying to gain his bearings. “I’ve never done this stuff before.” 
Carmy’s eyes followed the emotions crossing your face, a frown painting your face before your eyes widened and your lips parted in the shape of an ‘o’. 
“Carmy…have you never been intimate with anyone before?” Carmy knew your question wasn’t teasing or malicious but he couldn’t help feeling embarrassed at having to admit this to you. 
“I uh, you were my first kiss…and my second kiss just now,” Carmy hung his head in shame, blush rising from his neck to stain his cheeks. 
“Oh my goodness I’m such an asshole,” Carmy looked up at you a chuckle escaping him at your declaration. Your hand reached out to rest against his cheek thumb caressing back and forth. “Carmy I thought you were rejecting me.” Now it was your turn to feel shameful, your first thoughts being selfish ones as opposed to waiting to hear Carmy’s explanation. 
Carmy’s hand came up to grip yours on his cheek, head turning to place a soft kiss on your pulse point. “Let’s sit and eat, yeah?” Carmy waited for your response, smiling at you as you nodded. “I wanna spend as much time together as we can.” 
You pulled him into a sweet kiss, his hands squeezing your waist at the feeling of being able to freely kiss you “I’d like that.” You pulled away the two of you sharing bright smiles as you moved to have the dinner Carmy had so lovingly planned out.
Neither of you pointed out the fact that things would be coming to an end for you two tomorrow, but you’d bask in this loving atmosphere for all the remaining time you two had together. 
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You could feel soft lips pressing into the space behind your left ear, your first instinct was worry. Confused by the warm body pressed into you from behind strong arms gripping your waist as though you would disappear at a moment's notice. The memories of the last day with Carmy led you to relax.
A quiet sniffle finally woke you up enough, your eyes opening to the dimly lit room. A familiar head of hair tucked snuggly into your neck, and slight huffs of breaths could be heard.
“Carmy?” The raspiness of your morning voice echoed around the room, you could hear the breathing quiet down a bit, concern spiking in you. 
You began turning wanting to comfort the man you had been in love with for most of your life, it was a struggle as the arms around you tightened but you finally turned to your side Carmy burying his face in your t-shirt-clad chest.
“Carmy, honey,” the lack of response was beginning to worry you, you had shared your fair share of cries with Carmy throughout your friendship but considering the circumstances that brought you together this time around, you couldn’t help but freak out a bit. “Hey, hey look at me yeah?”
“I-I just need a minute please.” The crack of Carmy’s voice went straight to your heart. He maneuvered so the top of his body was laying on your chest and stomach, his lower body settling gently between your legs. 
You leaned forward pressing a lingering kiss to his head before lying back down and slowly stroking your fingers through his hair, wanting to make him as comfortable in this moment as you could. You were content to hold him all day if that’s what he needed.
The two of you laid like that for a while, Carmy’s breathing and sniffling calming down after a few minutes. You watched as Carmy propped himself up on his elbows, pressing a small kiss into the fabric of your shirt over your stomach, a small smile rising to your lips as you watched him.
“Talk to me, Carm?” You watched as he looked up to you, pretty blue eyes swollen from the tears he’d been shedding. 
Carmy moved up a little resting his cheek against your sternum arms wrapped tightly around you, “Uhh, Sug called, said Mikey left something for me.” 
It was quiet as you let his words sink in, a shuddering sigh leaving you as your hands unconsciously began running back through Carmy’s hair. 
You felt Carmy’s hand slip under the shirt of his you were borrowing, fingers gliding across the skin of your stomach lazily tracing circles. The small gesture helped to relax you a bit.
“Did she say anything else?” Your fingernails softly scratched into Carmy’s scalp, the two of you trying to touch each other as much as you possibly could.
Carmy’s chuckle drew your attention, “She uh, asked me to come home.”
Your nails stopped for a minute before you started up again, heart jumping a little in your chest at the idea of Carmy coming back to Chicago, “Are you…going to go home?” The hope in your voice borders on desperation.
Carmy was silent for a moment, hands moving to lift your shirt just underneath your breast before he placed his warm cheek back in its previous position. The news skin-on-skin contact sends chills through both of you. 
“Everything with Mikey kinda made me think about us.” Carmy’s thumb came up, to caress against your rib, dangerously close to your breast. “It just kind of puts into perspective that the people you care about can be here one day…and gone the next.”
The avoidance of your original question was not lost on you, but Carmy opening up may have been better than whatever argument the initial qualm might impose. 
“Baby I-,” you looked at Carmy as he adjusted his position one hand resting against your sternum, his chin plopping onto it. “I um.” He stopped, you followed his movements watching as his eyes closed and he took a deep breath.
“For a while, I’ve known that I feel something for you, but I-I don’t think I can give you what you want.” Your hand slipped from his hair to cup his cheek, hanging on to every word leaving his lips.
Carmy leaned into the palm of your hand, letting himself melt into your touch, cherishing the few moments he had left with you. “And I can’t promise any commitment after today.” The rapid beating of Carmy’s chest could be felt on your stomach, the crack in his voice raising a small smile to your lips. 
You sat up in bed. Carmy looked up at you as you held his chin in your hand, thumb softly tracing his lips as you committed his features to memory. The tiny scars marring his face, the few beauty marks dotted around, connecting them would create a new constellation you swore you’d remember forever. 
Carmy was honest with you, and that’s all you asked of him. Neither of you could promise each other a happy ending after you parted ways and while that hurt, it didn’t make sense to ruin the remaining time the two of you had left dwelling on the future.
“Carmen,” you waited for him to lock eyes with you, a sad smile spread across your features, tears you could no longer hold back coming forth. “I know.” 
Carmy’s lips pressed into your thumb before he gently cupped your neck and reached up so your lips connected. This was only the third kiss the two of you shared, but the intangible love and intimacy that could be felt through the single press of your lips would never dwindle, not for as long as the two of you surrounded yourself with each other.
He raised to his knees both hands entrapping your face, all his passion being poured into this one kiss. Carmy was slightly above you now, the angle forcing you to raise your head to stay connected. His thumb began unconsciously caressing the ‘B’ behind your left ear, a small part of you that had stuck with him ever since he discovered it five years ago.
The kiss intensified as you slipped your tongue between his lips, hands gripping onto his hips as he towered above you in this position. Your tongue moved languidly inside his mouth, small noises escaping the both of you.
Carmy pulled the hair at the nape of your neck, the motion removing your lips from his. “Did you mean what you said?” His breath left him in a huff.
“What?” You were slightly out of breath yourself, confused at what the hell Carmy was on about. 
“What you said about this,” his thumb swiped back and forth against the ‘B’ inked into your skin. “Would you take my last name?” 
You bit your lip, eyes lidded as you searched Carmy’s face, hand moving to grip his soft chin between your forefinger and thumb raising onto your knees so the two of you were eye level.
“Would you like that Carmen? If I let you give me your last name?” A patronizing smile graced your lips, the air between you charged. 
Carmy surged forward hungry for a taste of you, his hands gripped your hair to tug on it a strangled gasp leaving you. The strength with which Carmy took your lips into his forcing your back into the mattress beneath you two, his body hovering over yours. 
Your hand left its place on his chin sliding down to his shoulders caressing the little skin his tank top allowed you to feel. Hands traveling across his chest, the feeling of his toned body under your palms making you needy. You finally made it to the hem of his shirt tugging it up to give you access to the warm skin of his torso.
Carmy parted from you, snatching the shirt over his head before diving back in. Lips leading him to his favorite feature of yours. Your hands wrapped around his shoulders pulling him flush against you, Carmy’s lips ravished your neck as he nipped from your jawline down to your pulse point, teeth sinking in a bit harder.
“Fuck Carmy.” The delicious feeling of Carmen's body against yours, his lips exploring you, hands gripping the skin of your revealed waist. All of it led to the thrust of your hips up into his, it was selfish but you needed him, not that you would force him but whatever he would give you would have to be enough.
Carmy’s sharp intake of breath drew your attention as his hips relentlessly ground into you, hand wandering up your shirt to cup your breast thumb accidentally tracing your nipple. 
Your loud gasp alarmed him. He quickly parted from you saliva connected your lips together as you both took in each other’s disheveled appearances.
“Did I-did I do something wrong?” Sweet Carmy worried that he had ruined the moment. 
You sat up rapidly shaking your head as you stared into his eyes, the both of you breathing heavily, “No, no it was great I promise.”
Carmy nodded gently tracing your jawline as he looked at you, “Baby…I want this moment with you.” The mumble made your heart race, this was a big deal it would change whatever this relationship between the two of you was. 
“Carmy…we don’t have to do anything you aren’t ready for.” You searched his eyes hoping he didn’t feel pressured by the noises you were making.
“Have you…done this before?” Carmy forced himself to keep looking at you regardless of the blush he could feel painting his cheeks.
The small nod you gave relieved him a bit, “Does that bother you?” You didn’t think Camry would mind but you knew the male species could be unpredictable. 
“God no, I just don’t wanna disappoint you.” He finally looked away from you embarrassed to have admitted something so personal. 
“You won’t.” You sent him a small smile before guiding his hands to the hem of your shirt helping him to pull it over your head. Watching his beautiful face take in everything you had to offer him. 
His throat bobbed as he took in a large gulp, you could see the uncertainty in his eyes, proving you’d have to take the reins on this one, not that you minded. The thought of telling Carmy how to pleasure you warmed you up even more. 
Your finger reached out to lift Carmy’s chin, directing his eyes to yours, “What do you want to do to me, Carmen?” 
You watched as he blinked eyes tracing your figure, “I just wanna appreciate you, Baby.” The words left his lips in a whisper.
You were taken aback never having heard that before while being intimate. His hands slowly settled on your waist, the safest option “How should I…do that.”
You smiled moving one of his hands to cup your breast, shuddering at the skin-to-skin contact, “We can start with kissing, then I want you to do whatever feels right okay?”
Carmy nodded, giving your breast a slight squeeze a whimper drawing out of you, taking account of your reaction he gently began rubbing his thumb across your pebbled nipple watching your body writhe at the small action. 
He leaned forward pressing a gentle kiss into your forehead, lips moving to your left cheek then your right. A small kiss pressed into each of your closed eyelids and the tip of your nose. Each corner of your lips got its turn before his lips found the space between your nose and upper lip. One more kiss pressed into your chin before finally ending with a sweet kiss to your lips, cherishing every inch of your face he had kissed.
Carmy made his way to your jawline, starting at the right side and tracing to your left, nipping every so often as he continued his journey. Lips slowly tracing from your jawline to your neck, he wasn’t sure what it was but seeing your neck on display for him made him feral, his hips grinding into your as he decorated your neck in love bites. 
“Lay down f’me.” You eagerly listened watching as Carmy planted another soft kiss into your lips before following the map of your collarbones. Lips pressing into your upper chest as both hands came up to softly knead your breast. 
You could feel Carmy’s hard-on pressing against you, as much as you were enjoying this, all you wanted in the world was to finally please Carmy. You slipped your hand between your bodies sliding into the waistband of his boxers, hand gripping him as a strangled moan parted his lips. The soft caress of your hand against him caused his head to spin, this felt different from the times he would stroke himself thinking about you.
“Does this feel good, Carmy?” Your voice was a little deeper, more sensual as you questioned him. “Do you wish it was me making you cum on those lonely nights, hmm?
“Fuck…yes.” The whine of his voice went straight to your core, spurring you on more. 
Your strokes became a little firmer, applying more pressure to provide him more pleasure. His length twitched against your palm the more you rubbed. Carmy had lost all sense of his own ministrations grinding into your hand while still on top of you, he could feel himself close to ecstasy the feel of your warm body underneath him making him lose all control.
“Ba-Baby stop.” You froze immediately forcing your hormones under wrap, Carmy’s comfortability your priority. 
“Are you okay Carm?” The worry in your voice was obvious as you removed your hand from its grip on him. 
“Ye-yeah, I just want to please you right now.” Carmy’s hand moved to grip your rib cage thumb running back and forth against your under boob, “Can I continue showing my appreciation.” The slight desperation in his voice caused you to rapidly nod your head. 
Carmy gave you a small shy smile, moving to kiss the spot he had been tracing during this time. His lips painted across your whole torso, paying extra attention to your stomach, ideas he wasn’t ready to give merit to racing through his mind as he did so.
Finally, he paused at your hips, the solid cotton panties you wore obscured his path, nose caressing the front of your panties as he took in a deep breath allowing your aroma to invade his senses. “Are you going to take off my panties, Carmy?” The condescending tone in your voice went straight to his throbbing cock.
He nodded, wasting no time in peeling the fabric from its home around your hips, ready to replace it with his bare hands. Carmy raised to his haunches, unconsciously licking his lips at the sight of your naked body sprawled so prettily across his bed. All of you on show just for him.
Carmy returned to his previous task lips pressing wet delicate kisses into each of your hips bones, a lingering one placed at the base of your pelvis before turning his attention to your thighs. Lips trailing down your leg special attention paid to the crook of your knees and ankles. 
Carmy’s eyes found yours as he placed the last kiss on your right ankle, both of your pupils blown from the sequence of events that had just taken place. 
You beckoned Carmy forward urging him to find you once again. As he drew closer you grabbed one of his hands placing it on your right breast before moving it down so it caressed the rest of your torso, and down your pelvis finally stopping before the place you needed his touch most.
This was your way of giving him an out, the two of you could stop right here if he wanted to, the slight nod of his head told you otherwise. 
Your grip on his hand changed as you grabbed his forefinger and middle finger, your free hand parting your lower lips as you traced his fingers through your slick, a filthy moan escaping into the bedroom as Carmy’s calloused fingers finally stroked you.
“Do you feel that Carmy?” He nodded his head, eyes not leaving yours for a minute. “It's all for you, you made me feel this good.” 
You moved his fingers lower watching his face as you glided his two fingers into you, biting your lower lip at the hunger in you that was finally being tended to.
Carmy’s mouth fell open as he watched the ecstasy wash over your face, lost in the feeling of touching you in the most intimate way he had ever touched anyone before. His head dropped, eyes watching as you slowly swallowed his fingers, in and out the movement making him achingly hard. 
Carmy’s lips dropped to your ear a shy whisper caressing your ear, “I want to be inside you.” The vulnerability in Carmy’s voice caused you to bite your lip, satisfied that he was finally speaking up about what he wanted. 
“You are.” You teased him, clenching around his digits as his eyes drank you in.
You let out a whine as he removed his fingers from your grip, hand pressing your hip into the bed as he stared you down. “Please…I want this…with you.” The words unsaid weighing heavily between you two.  
“Are you sure that’s what you want?” You watched as he slipped out of his boxers, stroking himself as you watched and waited for your instructions. You motioned for him to lay atop you more noses brushing as he got into position, “I’ll guide you, but I need you to go slow okay, it’ll be a tight fit.” 
Carmy nodded his head, neither of you daring to ask about any contraception too lost in the thoughts of finally connecting in ways the two of you had only dreamed of.
You would come to regret the consequences of this decision later.
A smile split your lips before you surged up to capture Carmy’s lips, needing to distract yourself.
You guided him to your entrance only allowing the tip to go in to not overwhelm Carmy. Your mouth fell open in the shape of an ‘o’ as Carmy eagerly thrust into you, your hand raised to his shoulder to stop his movements.
“Carm, slowly, please.” His eyes met yours taking in the slight pain that his intrusion had caused, he nodded hand raising to cup your cheek.
“You look so beautiful like this.” A tender moment was shared between the two of you as you urged Carmy to continue his journey, shuddered moans escaping the both of you as he reached the hilt.
The feeling of finally being full with Carmy made you emotional, both of you just taking a moment to gaze at each other. Appreciating the finality of this all, Carmy leaned down to kiss a tear running down your cheek that escaped, his own eyes welling up, neither of you could find the right words to cement how much this moment meant to the two of you.
Carmy pulsed inside you the movement caused you to clench around him, “You did so good for me Carmy.” The praise went straight to his cock, eyes rolling back at how good a few words made him feel. 
“Can you move for me, Carm, it’ll make us both feel good.” The soft thrust of his hips was enough for you. 
He continued the slow motion of his hips, eyes connected with yours as the ghost of those three words he struggled to say filtered between the two of you. Your hand raised to wipe the single tear sliding down his cheek.
Nothing in the world could take this moment from the two of you. If Aphrodite could tell the story of your love she would describe it as a tangible heartbreaking thing always growing, and most times fleeting. Something both you and Carmy could touch, feel, and breathe. The love filtering between the two of you was clear as day to anyone who had a heart. 
The warm muscular hand pressed into the flesh of your hip bone driving you crazy. The fingers pressed into you harder and harder with each accompanying thrust. One hand pressed into the pillow by your head keeping the body atop of you from crushing you under its weight. You appreciated the cautionary position, but you had longed for this connection for what felt like ages and you would gladly welcome the weight of the perspiring chest burying you further into the mattress.
A golden gleam caught your eye taking you away from how the tattooed knuckles flexed against your hip every few seconds. You looked to see his golden chain dangling back and forth above your face, taunting you. The sway of the metal matched the rocking motion of his hips, the synchronicity of the two things driving you absolutely wild. Eyes concentrated on the gold chain it was almost like a switch was flipped in you and the catalyst was that fucking gold chain.
Your eyes moved to his face, his pupils blown wide as he stared down at you. You parted your lips his intense gaze causing you to clench down on him unconsciously, his eyes rolling back as his hand left its spot on your hip traveling up your torso thumb softly brushing over your nipple as it found its destination cupping your cheek with such intensity you were sure the shape of his thumb would be imprinted onto your jaw.
His eyes found yours once more, his thumb moving a few inches to softly caress your bottom lip. Your mouth opened on instinct to leisurely suck on his digit a hoarse ‘Fuck’ leaving the warm body that was making you feel so good. You released his thumb, feeling it tug at your bottom lip as his hand found its way back to your cheek.
You watched him above you, the ecstasy in his eyes warming your skin, you’d do anything to be able to please him if he always looked at you in that way. The flash of gold from his chain caught your attention again, the angle of his thrust causing you to gasp, a softly whispered moan of “Carmy,” leaving your lips. Carmy’s chain hovered above your open mouth begging to be taken between your teeth, you appeased your desires, your tongue latching onto the chain as you brought it to settle between your teeth. Carmy’s hips fucking into you at a slightly faster pace, your leg wrapping around his waist the heel of your foot pressing into his back to bring the two of you impossibly closer. 
“Fuck-Baby, shit!” Watching Carmy struggle for words had never been as sexy as it was at that moment. Knowing that you were the cause of his incoherent muttering. 
“Please, Carmy,” another gasp ripped through you, your teeth losing hold of Carmy’s signature gold chain. “Mmm yes, Carmen. Just like that.” You settled for whispering in his ear, the new position you had chosen had his head resting against your collarbone, his ear directly next to your mouth. You could feel Carmy’s hand moving from your cheek to clench your jaw between his thumb and remaining fingers. His hand moved your head to reveal your neck the feeling of soft wet kisses making a path to your ear, Carmy’s thrust slowing slightly.
You could feel his breath against your cheek, the soft whine he let out as your cunt clenched around him. His lips pressed against the shell of your ear, “Say that again.” His rough voice traveled through you, the thumping of your clit beating faster and faster.
“Just like that.” You moaned wanting to please him as much as he wanted to please you. 
His fingers dug into your chin, the roughness of his touch causing a high-pitched moan to leave your lips. “Sa-say my name?” The request made your head spin.
“Carm-,” Carmy’s hand returned to its earlier position holding himself above you causing your leg to drop back to the bed.
“N-no,” the strain in his voice was evident as he tilted your head down to stare directly into your eyes. “M-my name sa-say it. Please.” 
You bit your lip his whiny plea going straight to your clit. Your hand reachesdup to match his fingers gripping his chin firmly. Your blown pupils searching his wide doe eyes. It was hard to distinguish where the blue began and the black ended. Your faces were inches apart, you could tell from his breathing that your grip on his chin stirred something inside him. The soft rocking of his hips into yours caused your bottom lips to caress each other in the rhythm he had set.
“Carmen.” The syllables of his name left your mouth in a wanton moan, there was a moment where the thrusting of Carmy’s hips came to a slow stop before he surged forward and messily captured your lips in a kiss full of tongues and moans. Carmy’s hips began rutting into yours, the speed and intensity sending you both into a spiral. Your hand lost its grip on his chin to slither between your bodies matching Carmy’s pace and applying it to your clit. 
The grip on your chin was gone as Carmy’s hand followed the path yours had previously taken sending a soft squeeze to your breast. “Te-teach me how.” God you could’ve cum from that sentence alone. You began rapidly nodding your head before placing your hand atop his own guiding his index and middle finger into generously massaging your clit. 
“Car-Carmen, don’t stop please don’t stop.” Your voice leaves you in a sharp cry.
“Yeah? Is this good?” Your unabashed moan did more to answer Carmy’s question than any words could.
“Carmeee, I’m gonna come, please.” The banging of the headboard against the wall an indication of just how fast Carmy was thrusting into you.
“Whe-where should I-,” You could hear the slight panic in Carmy’s voice, assuming he was on the cusps of an orgasm as well.
“In me Carmy jus- all of it.” His fingers pressed into your clit going at a pace your brain couldn’t keep up with.
The speed of Carmy’s breathing increased. His head finding its way back into the crook of your neck, lips scattering kisses across your neck, “I’ll give it to you all. M’ gonna give you everything.” The sound of Carmen’s voice so quiet you weren’t sure if he had intended anyone else’s ears to hear it.
Whatever Carmen’s intentions his words were the last thing you needed to hear before bliss took over your senses. Your orgasm washed over you in waves, the intensity causing loud moans to escape your lips, clenching Carmy’s cock so hard you were sure it must’ve been painful. 
Riding the high of your orgasm, Carmen’s deep drawn-out groan vibrated into your neck as you felt him give two final rapid thrusts before the dam he had been holding back finally burst inside you. You felt his thrust slow down as he began peppering kisses across your face, “Thank you, thank you.” His voice trailed off into a whisper before his full body weight settled into you.
Now that the bed was no longer threatening to put a hole through his wall, the only sound filling the bedroom was the panting breaths you and Carmy were letting out.
Carmy looked up at you, the wetness on his cheeks matching yours. His forehead leaned against yours the vulnerability the two of you had for each other on full show. Breaths of love were shared between you as your lips gently touched. You knew the words you wanted to say at this moment, felt them so deep in your soul that your tears wouldn’t cease their downpour.
But you also knew how flighty the beautiful man in front of you was, it hurt but you would once again have to swallow your love for this man to ensure he remained in your life.
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You laughed as Carmy hovered atop of you the Polaroid he gifted you in his hands the device raised to his eye. Your arm was thrown over your face the fact that the two of you were in this position at all still mind blowing . Carmy nudged your arm, he had been snapping photos of you for a while now, both of you ignoring the fact that he should have been getting ready for work instead of laying with your naked body barely covered under him. 
“Show me that smile, pretty girl,” you slowly moved your arm, the smile splitting your face hard to control. “You seem to like my chain so much, I want to remember what you look like in it.” Carmy could be devilish when he wanted to, the way he would sometimes gain confidence and say what was on his mind, throwing you for a loop.
Your eyes left the camera in his hand as you stared at his face, so enchanted with who Carmy was as a person. Only being jolted out of your trance as the Polaroid fluttered out of the camera and landed on the center of your chest. 
Carmy moved the camera smiling down at you before picking up the photo and examining it, the corner of his lips ticking up in a half smile. He placed the picture on the other pillow where all the other Polaroids were sprawled out. You watched as he set the camera down next to your head cupping your jaw before leaning down and pressing a firm kiss into your forehead a mumbled ‘Perfect’ escaped his lips. 
“Will you take a picture with me Carmy,” your words came out shyly hoping he would agree. You felt his nose nuzzle into your neck planting a small kiss on your tattoo before moving to lay next to you in the bed. 
You reached over to plant a soft kiss on his cheek before grabbing the camera from its spot by your head. You raised it watching as the soft smile graced Carmy’s face, your eyes not wanting to leave the perfect view of his side profile that you had fallen in love with, finger accidentally slipping, the sound of the camera shutter filled the space between you too.
Carmy pulled the photo out waiting for it to develop as he looked in your direction. A wide grin took over his face just by looking at you, your hand began lowering the camera before his hand shot out and raised your hand, and the camera back up quickly pressing your finger into the button to capture this moment in time. 
You let him grab the camera from your hands before he placed it on the nightstand, once again holding your face in place as the two of you shared your softest kiss yet. 
— — — —
You watched as Carmy maneuvered around his room slipping into a clean pair of chef whites, he was late and you could tell he was panicking on the inside but didn’t want to worry you. The two of you had wasted away in the shower washing each other's bodies and holding each other under the hot spray of water. Neither of you wanted to leave the confines of the shower, knowing your time together was finally expiring.
You sat on the bed with your legs pulled up to your chest, chin resting atop them, a fresh pair of panties, and his deep green crew neck from last night your only form of clothing. The tension between the two of you had been broken the moment Carmy realized just how behind schedule he was, shoving reality down your throat as the game of pretending the two of you had been playing was finally snuffed out.
Carmy’s eyes landed on you in his rush clocking the glaze of your eyes, head not rationalizing why you might be upset at the moment. Finally gathering all his necessities he rushed over to you kneeling in front of you pressing one last kiss onto your forehead.
“I’ll be home soon, yeah.” You closed your eyes, the words breaking your heart into pieces.
“Yeah, be safe okay?” Carmy smiled, capturing your lips in his for the last time tonight hand cupping the back of your head to hold you in place.
The two of you separated small side smiles mirroring each other, both of you knew that Carmy would return home to an empty apartment tonight, but neither of you would voice that truth. 
You followed him to the front door needing to see him off before your return to Chicago. He opened the door lingering between the door and the hallway hand gripping yours before pressing a soft kiss into the pulse point at your wrist.
You shared small smiles as Carmy made his way to leave, sending you one last wave before he disappeared down the hallway.
Your closed the door, forehead pressing into it as you stood there trying to gain your bearings, doing your best to control your tears as you knew this moment was inevitable.
A soft “I love you, Carmen.” Breathed into the empty apartment soft enough for it to feel like a ghost had whispered those words and not you.
But not quiet enough that the man who returned on the other side of the door missed the declaration. 
Heart thudding in his chest. His hand ready to turn the keys in the doorknob dropped to his side. His feet shuffled backward as he took one last glance at the door before reverting to his journey to work.
He could go one day without his signature chain that he had so lovingly placed around your delicate neck.
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a/n: idk what to say really…enjoy : ) [actually no this is my first smut so please let’s learn from carmy’s mistakes and don’t come for me 😉] i’m like the only person on the planet who thinks i’m funny that’s how laughable it is 😭
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apomaro-mellow · 9 months
Text
Steve's parents compete to matchmake him with someone 1/?
Jonas and Diane Harrington sat in silence as their son's confession hung in the air. They'd met homosexuals before. You didn't travel as much as they did and not meet different people. But it had never occurred to them that someone so close to them - that their own son might be...
"Can you guys say something? Please?", Steve begged.
"Oh honey...", his mom started. "...Was Tommy?"
"What?", Steve pulled back at that. "Tommy? And me? Me and Tommy? No. We were never like that. Ever."
"Well, good for you son. You can do better", his father said, leaning back in his chair a little.
"He was so smarmy. You deserve someone who'll actually take care of you", Diane said, putting her hand on top of Steve's.
He looked down at the point of contact. "What's happening here?"
"Well, you being, you know, in your way, doesn't change our conversation", Jonas said. "We still think you need to stop sleeping around and find someone to be a little more serious with."
Diane nodded. "It's not good when all the gossip at the hairdresser's is about who your son is messing around with. Oh! What about Matthew?"
Steve raised a brow. "Your hairdresser?"
"Not mine, but he did fix me up when we were in New York, you remember the gala? He's nice, worldly-"
"I'm sorry", Steve interrupted. "I just told you guys for the first time ever that I'm gay, and you immediately try to set me up with someone?"
"Your love life is getting out of hand", Jonas said. He leaned forward and tented his hands on the table. "There's bets down at the bar. On who you're gonna knock up first."
"But if you're gay, we don't need to worry about surprise babies, right hon?", Diane smiled.
"Actually, I have a question about that now", Jonas started before his wife sent him a glare. "But we can save that for later. Point is, you need to hold on to someone for longer than a week."
Steve shook his head. "I can't believe my parents are talking to me about dating. What makes you think I can even get a guy? Can't exactly put the moves on them like I normally would."
His parents looked to each other, proving that neither of them really had an answer. With a sigh, Steve asked to be excused and when they granted permission, he went up to his room.
"Our Steve...a...a queer", Diane whispered.
"You think it's because I made him play football when he was a kid?", Jonas asked.
Diane shrugged. "If anything it's because of all those musicals we watched together. Then she released a heavy breath. It couldn't have been easy for Steve to tell them. And it couldn't have been easy for him to go on all those dates with those girls.
And if the rumors were true, he'd done more than date them. Jonas reached out and grabbed his wife's hand. From the moment their son had been born, all they had wanted was for him to be happy and healthy. Sometimes the healthy part meant leaving him for extended periods of time. Clearly, he'd been left on his own for too long. Surely they would have caught onto this sooner if they'd been around more, been involved more.
"What are we going to do?", Diane asked.
"You and I knew what we were going to do when we started this conversation", Jonas said, standing up from the table and putting his hands on his hips as he paced about the kitchen.
"Jonas, we can't give him Noelle's number now."
"Not Noelle, we just switch gears. Find a...a Nolan instead", Jonas decided, nodding as if to convince himself.
"Jonas, even if we can find another gay guy in this town, how do we know Steve will like him?"
"I know my son, I've got a decent idea what he likes."
Diane shook her head. “You just don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I don’t know what I’m talking about?”, Jonas questioned. “What, I can’t see what makes a man attractive?”
“Not the way Steven would. I think I understand this a little better than you.”
Jonas’ hands went to his hips. “Oh you do? You think I can’t find our son a date? You don’t think I know a handsome man when I see one?”
“Name one then”, she challenged.
“….Robert Redford.”
She crossed her arms, unimpressed. "Easy shot. Now name five that are actually our son's age."
Jonas looked put out and rolled his eyes. There was...there had to be some rock star, who was Steve listening to nowadays? Did he have a poster of someone? Who was in the movies? Maybe he had mentioned a boy at school at some point?
"Well, the bar is very high Diane. Steven is obviously the best looking boy at his school."
Diane grinned and stood up. "Was. He graduated, remember?"
"How can I forget? The grays won't stop coming."
Steve's graduation had been what had sparked this evening. Not getting into college, their son had seemed directionless. And messing around with too many girls had been the cherry on top. They had agreed to a gap year for him if he could use the time to get his relationships in check.
If he was into men, that made it slightly more challenging, but they wanted to give Steve the freedom to find himself. It was more than either of them had ever had. And what good was all the money if they couldn't spoil him a little.
"So, maybe I don't know what he's into. Doesn't mean I can't find him a good guy", Jonas said.
Diane wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. "You do know a good thing when you see one."
They went upstairs to check in on their son only to find him halfway out the window with a packed duffle bag.
"I'm sorry", he said, leg hanging out. "There's just no way you guys were this cool about this."
"For god's sakes Steve, get back in here", Jonas grumbled, grabbing his son before he cracked his head on the ground.
"Believe it or not, your parents are capable of higher brain functioning", Diane said, already setting to unpacking the bag and putting the clothes away. "Some of this stuff doesn't even fit you anymore", she noted as she looked through his closet.
"Hey, how's about we all take a trip to the mall tomorrow?", Jonas suggested. "Refresh our wardrobes for the summer!"
"Oh that sounds perfect!", Diane agreed. "It's been a while since we Harringtons turned heads as a group."
Steve sat on the edge of his bed, looking tense, yet hopeful. "You guys don't...you don't think I'm any different? You don't...", his voice got small, "hate me?"
"Oh Steven!", his mother wailed and sat next to him in a rush, holding onto him tightly as she cried.
Jonas cleared his throat. "Di, there's no need for tears. There's nothing sad happening."
"I'm not crying because of Steve", she said defensively. "I was thinking about Matthew. I really hope he and Otis worked it out. And that he knows he always has family who love him. And that even if the world beats him black and blue he can always come home, okay? Always, you can always come home."
"Yeah mom, I know", Steve said, eyes wet as he got her thinly veiled meaning.
Jonas sniffed and patted Steve's shoulder. "And if the world does decide to put its hands on you, remember your old man's got mob connections."
Steve gave a watery laugh at that but thanked him anyway when his mom lit up in recognition.
"Oh! What about Ricci?"
"Ricci? For Steve? Get outta here", Jonas waved her off.
"Who is Ricci?", Steve asked.
"He's a nice boy", Diane answered.
"He's a numbskull is what he is. I'll do business with the mob, but I'm not giving them my son", Jonas said as he walked towards the door.
"Who said anything about giving? His family's well off, he can take Steve nice places", Diane said as she followed him.
Jonas threw his hands up in derision. "Mobsters are like five year olds with their dames. Once they lick it, it's theirs."
"OKAY good night!", Steve closed his door to shut out the rest of their talk.
"We're going to the mall at ten, honey! Be ready for breakfast", his mother called out, then continued her conversation with his dad. Probably debating whether or not to set him up with a closeted senator's son.
Steve rubbed his face and let out a sigh. He'd confessed tonight to get any talk of girls out of the way for the summer.
Mission accomplished?
Part 2 coming soon
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luveline · 8 months
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what abt a kbd thing where like all the girls either can’t sleep and one by one they all end up all cuddled in w mom & steve
tysm! ♡ kisses before dinner au. mom!reader, 1.3k
"You haven't aged." 
Steve's smile is smarmy across the pillow from you. "That's because you see me everyday." 
"I'm serious. Apart from like, two little wrinkles in your forehead, you look exactly the same as you did when we first started dating." 
"I know it feels like a long time, but that was only eight years ago." 
"Almost nine," you whisper. 
Steve kisses you gently. "Almost nine," he repeats against your lips. "Are you sick of me yet?" 
"No," you answer truthfully. "Not even close." 
Steve's hand takes your cheek, his thumb quick to rub the path you like over the skin just below your eye. It makes you feel so pretty to be looked at, to be held by him, and so special to be treated like you're made of glass. 
Baby sleeps in the crib in the corner of your room. She's no longer brand new and, as you knew she would, she's gotten used to all the bumps and bangs of a busy house. She sleeps almost always through the night now, eight pm to five or six in the morning. The hardest part of having a young baby is over, and you and Steve are learning to be normal humans again. 
You put the girls to bed at seven, and at eight thirty, you can hear them still awake. All of them. None of your girls are subtle, but you try not to punish them, because they've all done well with the new baby's constant crying. 
"Who do you think will come and see us first?" Steve asks you, stroking your cheek.
You attempt to answer him through his dotting of kisses, half moons pressed lovingly to your nose, your eyebrow, your temple. Thoroughly loved up, you curl your arms around him to hide. 
"Don't know," you murmur, sighing a breath of contentment as Steve hugs you close. "Probably Beth." 
"Definitely Beth. I love when you hug me like this, you're like…" He pulls you ever closer, hands massaging up your back. "You're very huggable." 
"Not very nice to say, I just had your fourth baby, you know? You could give me a minute." 
Steve laughs warmly against your forehead, kiss-kiss-kissing the same spot he always does, your little pale scar from a rogue screwdriver. You'd been constructing Avery's toddler bed, and you swore you could do it alone while he got some sleep, but you almost blinded yourself and Avery slept in bed with you for a couple more weeks. The scar is permanent but nearly invisible. Anyone else would forget you had it. 
"I'm not telling you you're beautiful again today. Everyone was jealous and my dinner went cold." 
"No one else is here," you say. 
"Not true. The baby's here, she might hear me subliminally. That would be worse." 
A little knock rings against the door. You and Steve laugh against the other before peeling apart. Steve sits up in bed and you rest your face against his hip, pleased when he covers your arm with a big hand. 
"Come in, please," he says. 
Bethie slips in through a small gap in the doorway, closing it behind herself. Her hair is out of her face for the night, her pyjamas a bright sky blue with white polka dots. She's hip height now, surprisingly tall —you hadn't been expecting her to shoot up like Avery, nor for her chubby cheeks to disappear, but that's the horror and joy of having them grow up. 
"Hi, honey. What's the matter?" Steve asks. 
"Can I come and lie down too? I can't sleep."
There's no real reason to say no. You don't have to confer. You slide your legs away from Steve as he pulls back the blanket, beckoning her forward to fill the gap. 
She must think getting to hangout with you guys after bedtime is naughty and exciting, giggling as she runs across the room and climbs up onto your bed. You make a big, "Oof," as she drops into your chest but you're happy to have her, kissing you're not so mini me on the cheek. 
"You smell nice," you say, sniffing her hair. "Mmm, yummy coconut." 
"You smell nice too, mom. Like the green dish soap." 
"'Cos dad made me do all the dishes." 
Steve pinches the top of your ear and gives it a short tug. "It's good for you. Character building." 
"You're lucky my Beth is here," you grumble, your fingertips tracing up and down her back.
"Hello?"  
Your heads turn to the door where Dove pushes it open. She doesn't ask like Beth once she sees you all, just sprints to the side where Steve sits and pats his legs. He grabs her to plaster her in kisses. She plasters him right back. 
Your mommy's girl is on the turn. You can't blame her. 
"You have to get Avery," you say, patting Steve's thigh. 
She had a wobble a few months ago worrying she wasn't anyone's favourite kid. You've never seen Steve cry like, ashamed of himself for failing as a father. You haven't failed anything, you'd said, rubbing his arm, we just have to do better. 
Steve takes Dove with him on his chest. You can't understand how he carries them around all day, he must have built up some dad muscle. 
He's your everything. Well, second to the kids. It's a different kind of love but unfailing, always. You watch him leave and can't wait for him to come back, like a string pulled taut; you're relaxed when he's near. 
"Let's move over," you say, shuffling to your cold side of the bed. You'd been encroaching on Steve's space during snuggles. 
Beth puts her arm over your soft tummy and her face on your shoulder. "Can I sleep here?" she asks. 
Sharing the bed with your kids is a wriggling, boiling mess, but you have a queen size for a reason. "Yeah, gorgeous. You can sleep right here." 
Avery is wide awake when she appears, her Teddy bear in hand, her pyjamas an old t-shirt and the new plaid pants you had to buy when you realised she'd outgrown virtually every pair of pyjamas she owned. "I'm happy you missed me, I can't sleep," she says, climbing into bed to squish down next to Beth. "You have glitter on your cheek." 
"Where?" Beth asks. 
Avery scratches the glitter away carefully, tongue poking out of her lips in concentration. She may as well be Steve's twin when she makes that expression. 
Steve has hiked Dove higher now, her arms over one shoulder, his hand patting a mindless rhythm into the pink fabric of her nightie. He checks on the baby quickly before plopping Dove down on Avery's right. "Ready, girls?" he asks. 
You all nod. Steve takes the end of the comforter into his hands and shakes it out high, letting the top drift down onto you. Then he comes to your side and tucks it against your waist and legs. He kisses you, Bethie's cheek, and Avery's nose. 
Dove is furious by the time he makes it back. "Don't show off, babe, you get the best one." He scoops her up, flops down, and has her laying on his chest. You see him take Avery's hand under the blankets. "So, girls. What's first? Truth or dare or gossip? 'Cos Denise the checkout girl told me something really interesting about Debrah this morning and I've been trying to get you all in the same place." 
You smile into Beth's hair. Dove decides for you, "Who's Debrah?" 
"I'm glad you asked!" 
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atinylittlepain · 1 year
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Unexpected expectings universe where Joel loves their kids so much it makes him selfish and he wants another. So they’re fucking and he’s begging to come inside her and for another baby 😭
so here's the thing
warnings | 18+ alcohol consumption, allusions to smut
having Libby was already a huge emotional, psychological, logistical challenge for the both of them. i just don't think they'd ever even consider having another baby, at least not when they're in their right minds.
however...
There is one time, a little bit after Libby's second birthday, that Tommy manages to get Joel completely sloshed at the Tipsy Bison after a shift. The stubborn fool just cannot back down from a challenge, something that Tommy knows all too well, and had used to his advantage when he bet Joel that he could outdrink him.
Joel goes stumbling home, and when he finds his woman sitting on the couch, bare legs up while she reads a book, his mind goes a little paleolithic.
All she gets from him is a warbly smile before he's literally laying down on top of her, burying his face in her neck and taking a deep inhale of her scent.
"Smell so good, darlin. Always smell so good- and soft-" he cuts himself off with a hiccup that jostles the both of them with its force.
"So soft and pretty- I wanna-" another hiccup, her frustration growing as his words slobber over her neck.
"Wanna see you all soft and round again- give you another-" hiccup, she shoves at his shoulders, trying to get him to at least lift his face from where he's nuzzling into her shoulder now.
"Give you another baby" Oh shit. She freezes under him, before pressing her palm to his forehead to finally get him to look at her. His eyes are glassy, a dopey little smile hanging on his lips, and it all clicks for her.
"How much have you had to drink?" He grunts, shrugging a little. The moment she takes her hand away from his forehead, his face drops back down into her neck, a little "oof" leaving his lips.
"C'mon, mama. You're so- so good with our girls- lemme give you another one." His words are a thick slur, mumbled together between startling hiccups. She's heard quite enough, threading her fingers through his hair and tugging lightly to coax his head back up.
"Oh, Joel. What am I gonna do with you?" His sweet little smile turns into a smarmy grin at that.
"Well I've got a few thoughts actually." She has to laugh. It's rare to see Joel Miller so completely off his head. Unfortunately, he takes her giggling as a good sign, and swoops in for a sloppy kiss. The taste of him confirms her suspicions, and she promptly shoves him off of her. He flops back against the couch cushions, wiping his mouth with the back of his forearm.
"You want it like that tonight? I don't mind it a little rough, darlin." Jesus h. christ. She's never going to let him live this down.
She wordlessly gets up off the couch, grabbing both his wrists to haul him up onto his feet. He slings his arm over her shoulders, hanging a lot of his weight off her as he noses at the side of her face, all while she tries to drag him further through the house.
"You takin me upstairs, mama? I like it when you take charge." She passes right by the stairs, hauling him to the back of the house and out the backdoor, onto the porch in their backyard. She manages to get him down the stairs of the porch and onto the grass, the stupid grin on his face still present as he looks down at her.
"What're we doing out- outside?" It's more of a whine than a question as he tosses his head back on his neck. She has to stifle another laugh.
"You stay right there, ok? I'll be right back with a surprise." That grabs his attention fast, his eyebrows shooting up his forehead.
"A surprise?" She nods, trying to look as serious as possible.
"Mmhmm, but you have to wait right there." When it seems like he really is going to stay in place, after a few failed attempts in which she had to shove him back by his shoulders, she turns to walk around the side of the house. She cranks on the spigot to the garden hose, unraveling it and dragging it back with her.
He grins at her when she pops back around into the backyard, opening his arms out wide.
"I'm ready for my surprise, dar-" Joel doesn't get to finish that particular sentence, not when he yelps as she pulls the hose from behind her back and sprays him with a jet of cold water. She drenches him, even as he lets out a string of curses. His shirt is soaked, sticking to his chest, and his jeans are a much darker shade of blue. His eyes are wide as he looks at her, stuck shocked where he stands.
"When you're sobered up and done acting like a fool you can come inside and dry off."
The next morning, squinting behind a pounding headache, he has to beg her not to tell Tommy about what happened. He'd never let him live it down. She agrees, but on the condition that he has to take on toilet training Libby.
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