Tumgik
#I was in no rush and relaxing today
osamusriceballs · 5 months
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The Accident - Part VII
Atsumu x fem reader
Warnings: None
Words: ~ 2k
About: You talk to your mysterious friend and finally part from Atsumu.
Part I II -> Next part
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"It's me. I'm okay- please don't worry. I'll be back soon."
"Where have you been? I was worried sick; I've tried calling you all night! You just texted me that everything's alright at 4am, but what's going on? Where are you?"
The voice comes out of the phone, quickly and fast as always, and you hold the phone a bit further away from your ear. "Please, I'm okay, I promise!" You can hear a few deep breaths on the other side, probably the attempt to calm down, and then the voice speaks again.
"Where are you right now? I'll come and pick you up, and then you can tell me everything."
"I'm at the—" you hesitate and then look at the name on the towel and read it out loud. "Do you know where that is?"
"Give me a second." You hear typing noises on the other side and then a little gasp. "That's an expensive hotel! One night costs 500 bucks, and the suits are literally thousands of dollars per night!"
"What?!" you're speechless for a few moments, realizing just how much money Atsumu might own—you are in a suite after all and you definitely did not pay for it.
"It will take some time to get there. I'll be there in an hour? I'll send you my location. Is there someone else with you?" Your thoughts drift to Atsumu, and you hum. "Yes. And I need to ask for a favor. Do you have a lawyer? Or do you know someone who maybe knows someone who can help me with a divorce for cheap?"
"A divorce? Who needs a—wait. Are you talking about yourself? Did you get married?" The voice is so shrill and loud that you almost flinch, and you find yourself regretting revealing that fact already. "I'll tell you the details later. Please don't worry about me." You try to sound as calm and soothing as you can, and after a few shocked gasps, you hear silence again on the other hand. "Hello? Are you still there?"
"Yes. I'll come and get you, and then you'll have to tell me everything."
You agree, and after a few more times of you repeating that you'll be fine and that you're being taken care of, you hang up. You take a deep breath, and without thinking too much about it, you quickly undress and go into the shower.
It's like heaven. The warm water feels soothing on your skin, and there are more products in the shower than you have ever used so far, but you find yourself drawn to the pretty bottles and decide to spoil yourself. It's not your water bill after all, and if Atsumu is paying for it, you can go all out and spend a few more minutes in the shower. The towels are fluffy and warm, thanks to the towel warmer, and you find yourself pressing your face against the soft fabric and inhaling the fresh and clean smell. The mirror is foggy by now, you probably showered at too hot a temperature, but the warm water just felt so good on your skin.
A soft knock on the door brings your attention back to reality, and you find yourself stepping closer to the pompous wooden door. "Y/n? I put the clothes in front of the door. Samu and I will wait on the balcony; you can get them anytime."
"Thanks!" you respond and hear footsteps leaving the room and a loud sound that's probably the window closing behind them. You wait a few more moments just to be sure that they are gone, and then you open the door a little bit to take the small pile of clothes.
It's a shirt with the hotel name, surprisingly tasteful due to the minimalistic logo of the expensive establishment, as well as a matching pair of sweatpants as well as a pair of socks. The fabric is soft, and you quickly put on the new clothes, only regretting that you have to wear your old panties, but there is not much you can do about it.
You take one last look at your phone, quickly checking your appearance one last time, wishing you'd have the time to wash your hair too, but you'll do that when you're back in your hotel room. You're just glad that you feel clean and warm now.
You step out of the room, feeling a little better and more alive already, and look around. You find Atsumu and Osamu standing on the balcony, both of them busy in a heated discussion, and you watch them for a few moments from your position after you noticed that they are not looking in your direction yet.
They are undeniably related. You can find similarities in the way they speak, in the way they use they hands when they talk and in the way they stand. They are both very attractive—something that you can freely admire now that they haven't seen you yet.
A notification on your phone informs you that your friend will reach you in a few minutes, and when you look up, you see that the twins have stopped talking and instead watch you through the window in silence. You pause momentarily and then lift your hand to wave at them. Atsumu's eyes take in your new clothes, checking you out from head to toe, and he gives you an approving thumbs up and a grin. Osamu rolls his eyes at Atsumu and simply pushes the door open.
"Hey. I'm glad the clothes fit." He comments, and you look down at yourself at his words. "Yeah, me too. Thanks. I appreciate it a lot; I feel so much better already."
Atsumu also steps into the room again, making sure to bump his shoulder against Osamu's when he passes him, ignoring the curse of the dark-haired male.
"Ya look better already. Feelin' alright again?" His voice is still tinted with the slightest bit of concern, and you smile at his words.
"Yes, thank you. I'm sorry for being so weird before. I was just a bit overwhelmed." Atsumu shakes his head and buries his hands in his pockets. "Don't sweat it. That's normal. Gettin' married like this is a pretty unusual thing after all."
"Right. Uhm. My friend will pick me up soon; I'll get downstairs and wait there. I'll give you my number, and then you can call me as soon as you find out more?" You look at him questioningly, and he is quick to fish for his phone in his back pocket. "Sounds good. I'll wait with ya till yer friend arrives." He watches while you type in your number and quickly save it. "Oh, you don't have to. I'll find the way on my own, don't worry." You shake your head, but he quickly wraps an arm around your shoulders and leads you to the door. "Nah, I insist. Where are your shoes?" You let him guide you, his arm around your shoulders feeling somewhat heavy but comforting while you look around for your high heels from last night. Atsumu guides you to the chair next to the door and ushers you to sit on it while he grabs the black shoes from the ground. "Do ya think they'll fit with the socks?" He asks with a frown, and you just shrug your shoulders as a response. "I hope so. I don't want to leave without socks; I don't even want to wear the shoes, to be honest."
His brows furrow while he looks at your feet. "Sorry, I wish we had some other shoes for ya." You quickly shake your head. "It's fine. It's just for the way downstairs. It's okay." He nods and kneels in front of you, and you subconsciously slide back on the chair as far as you can to create some distance between the two of you. "What are you doing?" He takes your left foot and places it on his thigh, and you feel every single muscle in your body tensing at the sudden contact. "Helpin' with yer shoes. Stay still for me."
You're at a loss for words while he slips the shoe on your foot; all you can do is stare at him while he secures it around your ankle. Surprisingly, it fits around your socked foot, and he nods before he lets go of your foot and reaches for the other. It doesn't take him long to get it on your foot too, and you shortly admire how skilled he is with his fingers, and then he places them both on the ground. "There ya go." He hums satisfied and gets on his feet, quickly offering you his hand to stand up. At this point, you just accept it and take his hand, allowing him to lead you to the door.
"Uhm. Bye, Osamu. See you. Maybe." You turn around and wave at the dark-haired twin who had made no attempt to come with you, and he nods acknowledgingly. "See ya."
You follow Atsumu through the door, who seems to be familiar with the hotel because he is quick to lead you to an outrageously big elevator. It's silent on the ride downstairs. You're standing each on different sides of the elevator, leaning against the walls, your bodies no longer touching. You don't really know what to say to him; you're too deep in thought right now, and he seems to feel somewhat similar.
"The exit is right there." He motions to the other end of the hall as soon as you get out of the elevator, and you hum while you follow him to the doors. You're lucky that there are barely people around because you certainly feel a bit underdressed with the clothes from the shop, but Atsumu doesn't even spare a glance to anyone you're passing. The receptionist greets you without batting an eye at your unusual attire; you're fairly certain that you both give a very unusual sight. Atsumu with his formal dress pants and half-opened dress shirt, and you with the hotel shirt and sweatpants and heels from last night. Surely not an everyday sight, but professionalism prevents her from looking longer at you.
It does not take long until you both stand in front of the hotel, just far enough from the entrance not to bother other guests but still close enough to see everyone who enters the building. You both stand there for a few moments in mutual silence, until you look up at him with a faint smile. "Thank you for showing me the way. I'll manage from here on. You can get back to Osamu; it's alright."
He frowns at your words and looks around.
"Can I really leave you here?" He looks a bit worried, and you nod with a tight smile. You really need some time to think about everything. "My friend will pick me up soon. You can go back to Osamu; it's fine, really!"
He hesitates for a second, probably not fully convinced that everything's fine, and the next thing you know is that his big arms surround you and pull you into a hug. You're stiff at first, unsure how you should react, but the comfort and familiarity that he is radiating by now makes it all too easy to melt into his touch and to hug him back. "Y/n. I meant it. I'll take care of ya, okay? Everything's gonna be alright. I'll make sure of that."
"Hmm." You hum against his shoulder, deeply inhaling his comfortable smell, and his grip tightens around you. "And if ya need anything—anything at all—call me. Anytime." You nod, hoping that he can feel your response and your gratitude because you don't trust your voice right now. You know you should probably pull back, but it feels too good to be in his arms, too good to be close to him, so you just stay, and he seems willing to let you.
"Y/n!" You hear someone yelling your name behind you, and you quickly pull yourself out of Atsumu's arms. You turn around and face a familiar face with big brown eyes which flicker from you to Atsumu with a surprised expression.
"Wait—Atsumu Miya? What are you doing here?"
Your jaw drops, and you turn your head back to Atsumu, who looks equally surprised to see your friend.
"You know each other?!"
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thebeautifulfantastic · 9 months
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how unfortunate that i have two hyperfixations, several side interests, and a load of homework all clamoring at the same time for priority in my brain
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katierosefun · 1 year
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pros of waking up earlier in the morning: wow i’m getting so much work done. i have so much time for the rest of the day. what do you mean i’m already almost done with this assignment it’s not even noon yet?
cons of waking up earlier in the morning: i have to actually wake up early in the morning
#caroline talks#i laugh because it's not even really 'early'#i woke up at like 8 am today which is actually. kinda considered later for me in the mornings#because even on the weekends i usually try to wake up at around 7:30 bc. idk. being a full-time law student#means that. you gotta really get going even on the weekends#and then during the actual week i'm usually up by 6:30 am#maybe earlier if i really need to get more stuff done#but it's break! which means that usually i'd be up at around 9 am#or even at like. 9:30 am#but i have an assignment due at 9 pm tonight#and then i have some networking calls to make tomorrow afternoon#and i also need to outline for my classes bc oh god we are officially less than a month away from the first exam#which makes me. scream#so like! we are being. so normal#how can i relax over break when time is hurtling at me like a TRAIN#anyways in a panic#i actually started working on this assignment last night#bc for some reason i thought it was due TOMORROW instead of TONIGHT#so yesterday in a rush i printed out all 25 pages of the assignment#read through it a few times on the train#tried to do some of it but the wifi SUCKED so i couldn't get far#then came home at like. 6:30 pm#ate dinner + chatted with my family for like. 3 hours#then from like. 10 pm until almost 1 am i was working on the first part of the assignment#and then 7 hours of sleep before going into the next part of the assignment#it is now 11:34 am#i have been at it for roughly 3 hours now
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skunkg1rll · 20 days
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🦩🌷🌺
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soobadnoonecanstopher · 10 months
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I need to know how the meeting with the new guy went!!! Did you make it through it okay?! I can't even concentrate on work today ><
I haven’t even had a minute with him yet. I only got to confirm that he exists and request his access for one of the system he will use. I’m supposed to have a 1-on-1 with him but he’s busy with HR paperwork and NDAs and shit I have no idea. Like other people are busy with him and I’m just having my own little EXO party by myself I guess I’ll talk to him when I talk to him idkkkkkkkk
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opens-up-4-nobody · 1 year
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...
#i was supposed to spend the last 2 days prepping and relaxing for the start of this big project tomorrow#but ive spent thr last 2 days frantically coding as fast as i could and focusing v hard to get a lot of bullshit done#and ive fixed things since yesterday. the changes i had to make were too too bad bc the thing that went wrong was so fucking weird#but it should be okay by tomorrow. knock on wood. but this does mean ive done fuck all to prep for tomorrow#so we r winging it bby. ugh. just gotta fucking pray that everything goes ok. pls let nothing b broken and let everything seal properly 🙏#i was also supposed to meet with my boss today. probably for her to make sure i dont fuck up this project but apparently their safety hood#was having an emergency... whatever that means. so im sure shes having a week as well. and im free to fuck everything up for everyone#ugh. im so. theres a certain point in burning out where youre not really in pain anymore. you dont really feel anything all your joy and#hope dissolves away and u just exist to be useful. and i feel like its easier to maintain that than trying to b happy#i do not advise that bc its a fucking miserable. wasteful way to live but i dont really have time to try for anything better#god. i really hope my measurements friday dont take a full 8hrs. i dont know if i can handle that. literally i would have stay intensely#focused with my brain being Interrupted every 5min so i can manually record data points. its gonna b agony#so that fun. but maybe it wont. maybe itll be great and fun and ill have a wonderful time. seems unlikely but ya never kno#lets not think abt the fact that having to rush all this is preventing me from being able to do all thr other bullshit i need to get done#to prepare for the future. future? what future? hard to imagine from the bottom of this pit im digging myself#sigh. in a few months i can leave this place and never come back. soon but not soon enough#lol i was literally crying listening to cold play earlier bc idk thats the type of music my parents would put on at parties in summertime#so it evokes a v specific mood. which is i guess me hiding away from ppl at parties haha#back when i didnt have to worry abt things so much and i could just listen to the frogs chirping and watch the fireflies#oh god. now my boss is asking if i reached out for help tomorrow. no. lady i would rather drink bleach than have to direct an undergrad#tomorrow. its 10pm im fucking tired. just let me be sad. did i reach our for help? no my brain is on fire#tomorrow is gonna b a long day ugh#unrelated
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korusalka · 1 year
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.
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orcelito · 2 years
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🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃
#speculation nation#'oh fanny your sunday open cant have been much worse than your saturday open! you worked less time and it's Sunday!'#well apparently god hates me today bc i want to fucking gut something#it was okay enough. annoying but manageable.#but then the last half hour we just got slammed out of nowhere#im generally good at handling rushes but im tired and already stressed and it was just out of nowhere#i was Thiiiis close to just having a nervous breakdown#but i held on and i didnt break anything in my occasional explosions of anger#i say 'explosion' i mean me kicking a counter or slamming a cup or whatever. slamming the fridge door. that kind of thing.#i was planning on staying late to work on sorting through applicants but i think if i have to stay any later#then i Will fucking murder something.#i already stayed like 25 mins late just to help them get the rush under control. bc im not the type to dip immediately after my shift.#i dont even want to look at my number of hours for this pay period#except. i kinda do lmao bc big numbers means big money#too bad it is coming at the cost of my sanity ❤#gonna go home and have a relaxing day even if it kills me.#and then go to bed early. bc i have to go to pt tomorrow#and then work 7+ hours. which NONZERO CHANCE im gonna have to fucking close on top of opening.#god. fuck my life.#i hate being one of the only people who can work during break. i hate my fucking LIFE.#negative/#just gotta hope the fact that tomorrow's monday will make things manageable#oh yea and then there's manager meeting :) ha ha ha ha ha
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cynicalmusings · 1 month
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can’t wait to get down this wormhole for that eventual chiori fic!
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nanaslutt · 2 months
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when your boyfriend asks you to cheat on him with his best friend
ʚ ft. cuck!Geto Suguru, Gojo satoru x reader
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ʚ cont: established relationship, fem reader, cucking, Geto is a perv, cumming untouched, oral, dirty talk, teasing, masturbation, multiple orgasms, rough sex, praise, pull-out method, dacraphillia
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ
...."What?" You replied quietly, even though you heard his words loud and clear. "W-why would you want that?" You asked, noticing how much harder it became to keep eye contact. Geto had invited Gojo over to hang out, the three of you lounging around in the living area, hanging out, when you noticed Geto's demeanor change a bit.
He knew how much Gojo wanted you, it was obvious. Gojo would never say it first, but he thought you were the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. Of course, Geto was his best friend and you were his girlfriend, so he would never act on any of his deep dark impulses, but that didn't stop him from making innuendos here and there, maybe touching your shoulder a little too long, looking at your body in a way he shouldn't when you turned around, unable to notice him checking you out. But Geto did, he noticed it all.
Instead of being pissed at his best friend, all the little touches and teases, the almost advances he made on his girl, made his pants tight. Usually, he could bare with it, hold out until his white-haired best friend went home before he picked you up and fucked you on the couch right where you and Gojo were just sitting, but today was different.
Geto's mouth was running dry watching Gojo's fingers rub the couch as he laid his arm out behind you, relaxed. He knew Gojo craved to be caressing your skin instead, that's what drove him so crazy. The way his best friend kept dropping his gaze to your lips, your breasts, all of it, it was driving him mad. So mad, that he had to excuse himself, and you, from Gojo's company, pulling you into his bedroom where he spilled his deep dark desires, unable to keep them inside any longer.
"Fuck I don't know, I don't know," Geto said, covering his mouth with his hand. He kept it there for a moment, looking around the room in thought before he dragged his hand down his face and reached out to grab yours. "All I know is that whenever I think about him fucking you in front of me, it makes me so fucking hard I can barely stand it." He said, looking frantic, impatient. 
You dropped your eyes to his crotch and noticed the very obvious, twitching bulge he was sporting in his sweats, he was serious. "If you don't wanna do it just forget it, it's fine really I just needed to say somethin-" "How long have you been feeling like this?" You asked, cutting him off. You kept your eyes on him, fighting the urge to look away bashfully. Geto stopped his rambling, his mouth falling slightly open as he just looked at you. You didn't say no.
"So long baby, so fucking long. Can't help but think about it every time he's around you." Geto said, a blush biting the tips of his ears. You felt a sudden rush of heat flood down between your thighs at his shamelessness. It was a lot to take in so suddenly. To be honest you had never thought of Gojo in that way before, so having Geto confess something like this was a bit of a shock. It wasn't that you thought Gojo was ugly, or even thought he would be back in the sack, it's just you truly hadn't thought about it. 
Why would you have? He was Geto's bestfriend. But apparently, Geto would like it if you did think about him that way. "How... how do you know you really want this?" You asked, keeping your voice low and quiet, cautious for Gojo to not overhear as he was just in the other room. Geto stepped closer to you, using both his large hands to grab your waist, pressing your pelvis against his. You could feel his boner poke you just above your cunt, making your eyebrows knit together.
"I've dreamt about it baby, dreamt about him fucking you. You have no idea how much I think about this." He whispered, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. His words made you blush as you looked between your bodies at his hard cock, that he was ever so slightly rubbing against you. "Dreams are different from reality Sugu... what if..." You paused, wanting to find the right words before you spoke.
"Say me and Gojo really did it in front of you." Just the mention of the hypothetical had Geto nodding at your words and pulling his lip between his teeth. "What if you were wrong and you don't actually want this? I don't want to hurt you Sugu." You said, grabbing his face with both of your palms. Geto smiled and leaned into the touch. "You know I won't let anything happen if I'm not okay with it. I promise you though baby, with 100% certainty, that I will like it, I need it." He responded, easing your worries.
"Do you... think you can do it though? I don't wanna make you uncomfortable just for my interesting kinks." Geto said, his words making you huff a laugh through your nose. "I haven't ever thought about... fucking Satoru, but he's pretty easy on the eyes." You joked, "It should be fine." Geto groaned at that, his head falling forward and landing on your shoulder.
"I love you so much you know that? 'S gonna be so fucking hard not to cream in my pants just watchin' you two kiss." He whispered against your neck, his words alone riling him up. "Baby..." You said softly, running your hands through his hair. "Will Satoru be okay with this?" You asked, making Geto raise his head to look at you, a telling smile already on his face. 
Once Geto collected himself enough to not walk like he was hiding a bomb in his pants, the two of you left the small room he pulled you into and back into the living room, where Gojo was sprawled on the couch, legs spread far apart, arms around the back of the cushions.
You swallowed hard, trying to remember what Geto told you to do. You could do it, for him, you could do it. Gojo turned his head toward the two of you when he saw your figures renter the room. "There you are~ Was starting to think you two were getting handsy somewhere." Gojo teased. You kept walking toward him, not faltering in your pace, not uttering a word back, not so much as breathing. Geto stopped a couple of feet from the couch, just watching you with bated breath for what was about to happen.
Gojo lazily looked up to meet your face when his view of the TV was obstructed by your body. "What are ya-" His words were cut short when you placed both hands on his shoulders and plopped yourself down onto his lap. Gojo's hands jerked in front of him and just hovered inches from your hips, which were now straddling his. His mouth opened to speak again but he was promptly cut off when you grabbed his soft cheeks in your hands and pressed his lips against yours.
The white-haired man made a noise of surprise against you, his body going rigid. Gojo's eyes were wide as his brain tried to catch up to what the hell was happening. His eyes found Geto's, just on the outside of his peripherals, and he was met with his best friend's large frame standing just as still as he was, eyes lower than usual, arms crossed, and of course, a huge fucking boner in his pants.
Gojo caught on quickly, a small huff of a laugh leaving his nose just before you pulled back, looking at him uncertainty, like you were waiting for him to react. "I think I know what's going on," Gojo said, smirking mischievously. Geto stayed quiet, opting to slowly sit down on the couch next to him that faced the large sofa, housing his best friend and his girlfriend, straddling his hips.
"This a test or somethin' or is this for real?" Gojo asked, astonished. The tips of his ears started to grow hot, as did the rest of his body. "Does it look like I'm joking?" Geto asked, his shaky hand grabbing ahold of his bulge, not rubbing it, just putting some pressure on himself, his other arm laying on the arm of the couch. "Fuck." Gojo huffed, a smile still on his face as he looked between the two of you.
"So what do you want from me? Want me to fuck her? Is that it?" Gojo asked, finally closing the distance between his hands and your hips, grabbing them steadily, making you press yourself fully down on his lap. You winced at the feeling of his bulge poking against you, his mannerisms were so different that Geto's, but having Geto here made you feel a lot more comfortable. And you trusted Gojo, of course. 
"Yeah," Geto replied, nodding. Gojo's smile grew before he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and looked at you, cocking his head to the side. "You want that too? Want me to fuck you while your boyfriend watches?" Gojo was already in this. He really could adapt to any situation surprisingly quickly. You turned your head to look at Geto, but your gaze was quickly corrected when Satoru gripped the bottom half of your face and made you look back at him.
"I asked you, baby." He smiled, his words teasing and light, but his touch rough. Gojo looked down at your plush lips before his eyes fell back on yours, his head inching closer to your face. "Want me to fuck you? Make you cum all over my cock?" He whispered, his hot breath tickling your face, making you whine quietly at his words. When you nodded coyly your consent, Gojo laughed, releasing your chin.
"Maaaan~ She's so fucking cute, this is gonna be so fun." Gojo chipped, rolling his head before he placed it back in front of yours. "Let's give that cuck a show then," Gojo whispered, his words not being missed by Geto's ears, making his cock twitch. You whimpered when Gojo pressed his lips to yours, a hum from him vibrating throughout your lips as his hand fell back down on your hip once more.
Gojo maneuvered the two of you to be laying down against the length of the couch, one of Gojo's legs hanging off the side, his foot placed firmly on the ground as you chased his lips, your body staying firmly against his as you were now on top of him laying down. Geto licked his lips, adding a bit more pressure to his cock as he watched Gojo's hands caress your body, teasing the skin of your back underneath your shirt.
"Let's get this off, yeah?" He whispered against your lips, letting you sit up to remove your shirt. You nodded, your eyes finding Geto's for a moment which were content and full of lust, before they were back on Gojo. Gojo ran his hands up your exposed skin the higher and higher you dragged your shirt up your body until your black lacy bra was exposed to his hungry eyes, the shirt being tossed carelessly on the floor.
"Oh fuckkk." Gojo groaned as he continued to greedily rub his hands up and down your body while you placed your hands on his abdomen, your ass firmly on his crotch. "Knew your body was hot but you look even better like this." He praised, thrusting his hips up against yours, his ass leaving the couch cushions for a minute. You felt your face erupt in heat and looked away, squeezing your legs around Gojo's body to relieve some of the ache you felt between your thighs.
"What do you say, baby?" Geto's voice rang into your ears, making you look over at him while Gojo's eyes stayed on you. "He complimented you, what do you say?" He repeated, his hand now slowly rubbing over the bulge in his sweats, matching the tantalizing pace of Gojo's hips rubbing against yours. Your embarrassment only grew getting called out like that. Looking back down to Gojo, his eyes were open wide, eyebrows raised as he waited for you to speak.
"Thank you, Satoru." You replied, finding it hard to meet his eyes. Gojo grabbed one of your hands and brought it to his mouth, leaving a soft kiss against your wrist. "No problem baby." He replied, before releasing your hand and turning his head to look at Geto. "She's so polite." He said, praising Geto for training you so well. Geto smiled in return, nodding knowingly. "She'll even thank you after she takes a load down her throat," Geto added, his cock twitching at the thought.
This made Gojo audibly groan, his head rolling back against the couch, messing up his pretty hair. "Fuck I wanna see that." He groaned, long and needy. "You wanna show me what Suguru is talking about baby?" Gojo smiled sweetly, rolling his hips in circles up against your cunt, making your eyes flutter. You nodded timidly, feeling your body get hit with another wave of arousal. Gojo's smile grew in size, his cute dimples poking his cheeks.
Geto watched with bated breath as you slid down his body, pressing your thighs together as you sat on your knees between his legs, working on his belt. "You gonna jerk off to this or what?" Came Gojo's voice, cutting through the arosual clouding Suguru's head. Suguru shook his head, opting to continue to just palm himself over his pants while he watched you pull Gojo's pants down. "Not yet, don't wanna cum till you start fucking her." He said, arousal heavy in his voice.
Gojo made a sound of approval, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue before he looked back down to you. "Oh! Didn't realize you got that far." Gojo giggled, watching how you held his crumpled pants midway down his thighs, staring at his long, pretty cock, with a pink flushed, dripping head. Gojo wiggled his hips, making his cock sway in front of you. "You like it?" He asked, cockily. 
"It's so big." You whispered, laying down on your belly between his thighs as you stared at it in awe. "You think so, baby? 'S it prettier than Suguru's cock?" He teased, glancing over at Geto who shook his head in annoyance. Gojo sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth when you wrapped your hand around the head of his cock, rubbing his pre-cum against your palm. "They're both pretty." You complimented, smiling up at him.
Gojo bit his lip and pinched your cheek, watching how you slightly winced as you dragged your hand down his cock, rubbing his precum down his length. "Guess I'll find out if 'ur tellin' the truth when Suguru gets his cock out later." Gojo teased, sliding his hand back from your cheek to rest on the back of your head. You glanced over at Suguru to make sure he was still doing okay, and you were met with your boyfriend looking the most around you'd ever seen him, the sight relaxing your nerves in an instant.
"Suck his cock baby, show him how good that throat feels." Geto encouraged, gripping the outline of his cock through his sweats and stroking. You nodded and brought your attention back to the hard cock in front of you, throbbing against your hand. "Yeah, what he said." Gojo chimed in, making you want to roll your eyes. Such a Satoru thing to say at a moment like this.
You gave Gojo a few more strokes before you leaned in, your breasts resting on his upper thighs just below his cock as you stuck your tongue out. You flattened your tongue on the underside of his cock and tapped the head against it, continuing to stroke him off. Gojo groaned, watching your tongue wipe over the head of his cock, collecting the pre-cum there. 
His smile started to fade the longer you teased him, pure arousal taking over his body. His jaw fell open and his eyes fluttered in his head when you finally wrapped your lips around his cock, immediately finding a pace as you bobbed your head on him, taking more and more cock into your mouth with each thrust.
Gojo's fingers curled into your hair at the stimulation, his legs parting in tandem. "Oh fuckk." He groaned, his head rolling back against the cushion before he forced himself to look down at the show you were putting on for him. Your eyebrows furrowed when you took him into your throat, fighting back gags. "Ffffuck- tight fucking throat-" Gojo praised, his hips jerking against your face when your throat contracted around him. "Takin' it like a fucking champ." He added, nodding down at you.
If your mouth wasn't stuffed with cock, you would've smiled at his compliment. "Feels good huh?" Geto added, squeezing the base of his cock through his pants, trying to resist the urge to cum already without even touching his cock. Gojo nodded dumbly, his hand just following your movements with its place on the back of your head. "Uh-huh uh-huh, shit-" Gojo's abs clenched and his back arched forward when you took him completely into your throat and hummed, shaking your head back and forth.
"Ohmygod- fuck oh my god Suguru-" Gojo whined, his toes curling at the feeling of your warm throat. "Can't believe you waited so long to let me feel this, s-shes so fucking good- I'm gonna cum already-" Gojo whined, his body jerking and twitching against the couch. Geto nodded in agreement, his eyes locked on the spot where his cock and your mouth met. "Yeah, me neither." He responded, reaching his free hand up to rub a few fingers around his nipples, giving him some other stimulation that wasn't as intense as his cock.
Gojo's breathing was so choked and rapid, sounding like he just finished running a marathon, mixed with long groans and curses of your name. "Holy fuck baby, I'm really gonna cum-" He groaned, adding his other hand down to grab your head, placing both hands over your ears. "Can I fuck your throat? Just a little? Huh?" He begged, nodding at his own words. Gojo felt his balls tighten with the need for release, he wasn't going to last much longer.
You nodded around him, stilling your movements as you relinquished control. "Good fucking girl, show your boyfriend how good you take his best friend's load." His words went straight to Geto's cock, making him have to grip his base tighter. It was almost humiliating how much Geto was into this, his most craved fantasy was happening right in front of his eyes, and it was so arousing it was almost too much to handle. 
You relaxed your throat and let Gojo fuck his hips into your mouth, obscene squelching and moans echoing into the room as he did so. You were used to this kind of treatment. Geto was usually a little rougher, and his cock was thicker than Satory's, so taking Gojo's cock, despite the length, was fairly easy.
Gojo pursed his lips around his teeth and groaned obscenely, sounding like a porn star. "Ohhhh fuck 'm cumming baby, cumming- oh fuck-" Gojo's groans and whines got higher in pitch as he was pushed to the edge by your tight throat. Geto felt his whole body tingle from his head to his toes, his brain feeling fuzzy, body feeling warm. He was too enamored by the scene in front of him to notice the familiar sensation racking through his body.
Gojo held your head down on the base of his cock, lips flush to his abdomen as he groaned long and loud, body jerking and spasming, back arched, eyes rolling back in his head, all as he released his thick load down your throat. Geto choked on a moan as his body doubled over, his thighs snapping shut. His hand that was playing with his chest slammed down on the arm of the couch, his fingers gripping the fabric of it for support as he came in his pants, a dark wet patch spreading on his sweats under his hand.
You fought back the gags that wanted to escape as you swallowed everything Satoru gave you, not wanting to waste a drop. Even after Gojo had stopped emptying his balls, he kept you down on him, letting his cock just rest in your warm throat, before he pulled you off a few moments later, allowing you to catch your breath. Gojo grabbed his cock and gripped it hard at the base, relishing in the aftershocks, his cock still hard and ready for more.
"T-thank you Satoru." You whispered, voice a little hoarse from taking his cock in your throat. "Fuuuuck you were right Suguru, she really does thank you for takin' cock down her throat." Gojo laughed, looking over at his best friend. Gojo's eyebrows shot up in surprise when he noticed Geto's fist over his mouth, legs crossed over one another, the wet patch evident on his pants. "Ohhohooo~" Gojo cooed, peeking your interest and making you look over at him as well.
"Came in your pants jus watching me fuck your girl's throat? That's kinda perverted Suguru." Gojo teased, caressing the back of your neck with his other hand. "Suguru..." You whispered, feeling yourself grow wetter between your thighs at the thought of Geto cumming in his pants. You cursed yourself for missing such a sight. 
Geto stayed silent, his chest rising and falling heavily as he caught his breath. "Hope you got some more in you because I'm about to fuck her now." Gojo teased, a malicious smile spreading across his face before he looked back to you, his expression softening. "How do you want it pretty? Want it from the back? You like to be manhandled? Hm?" You felt your face grow hot at his words. You looked over to Geto for help, Satoru watching your gaze.
"Want him to decide?" He added, his voice quieter. You kept your eyes on Suguru as you nodded, the corner of Suguru's smile peeking out from behind his fist. Your boyfriend uncrossed his legs and tilted his head against his hand. "You like it from the back, don't you baby?" Geto said, his smile warming you up all over again. You nodded in response, waiting for him to speak again. "Satoru." He said, looking at his best friend now.
"You can't cum inside her cunt, that's the only rule," Geto said firmly, making sure his words were heard loud and clear. Gojo pursed his lips together, pouting a bit. "Fiiiiiine. Do I have to use a condom?" He asked, tilting his head to the side. Suguru only shrugged in response, leaning back against the couch as he began to pull his sweats down. "Up to her." He said, bringing Satoru's attention back to you.
"What's it gonna be sweetheart? You want me to wrap it up? Or you wanna feel my cock rubbin' inside you raw?" He asked, watching how you began to untie the string of your shorts. "I can't help but notice you made one option sound a little better than the other." You snorted, pulling your shorts down your legs, revealing your cute black panties that matched your bra.
Gojo giggled, grabbing your hips and placing your panty-clad clit on top of his bulge, making you rut your hips against him. "I might be a little biased." He said teasingly, his cock already dripping pre-cum again, smearing against the outside of your panties. "No condom it is then." You replied, making Gojo bring his hand into a fist and drag his arm down, saying a dramatic "Yesssss." To which you and Geto both shook your heads.
"Cmere then baby," Gojo said, his demeanor suddenly changing into a more serious one. He pulled you against him, your legs slotting together as your hands fell on his chest, your lips connecting with his. He moaned quietly into your mouth, rutting his hips against your tummy, getting it wet with his arousal. Geto licked his lips watching the two of you as he fully pulled his cock out of his sweats, dragging his hand down his length torturously slow, rubbing his first orgasm down his cock.
Geto felt a sudden shock to his guts when Gojo cracked his eyes open and looked at Geto through the corners of them teasingly, his eyes finding his before they dropped to his cock, then back up to his eyes. He kissed you more dramatically, opening his mouth more against yours so Geto could see your tongues tangling together sloppily, the spit being exchanged between them. Geto picked up the pace on his cock, feeling himself strain against his hand the longer they stared at each other.
Gojo looked back at you and separated from your lips, your expression fucked out and needy already just from a little kissing. "Let's get to the good stuff, yeah? Don't think your boyfriend can take much more." Gojo teased, making you look over to Geto, who was steadily dripping down his fingers, watching the two of you intently, how Gojo was holding you. "Looks like his cock is about to explode, right?" He whispered, making you nod and whimper in agreement. 
"You were right, it is pretty too. I see why you couldn't choose." Gojo added, making you whine. Gojo tapped your ass before he spoke again. "Alright, up so we can switch. Wanna see that ass up for me." He smiled, to which you nodded and scooted over, letting Satoru sit up so you could take his place, your body perched against the couch on all fours before you leaned the front half of your body down, leaving your ass up for Satoru's viewing pleasure.
Gojo rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his hair, stroking his cock slowly. "Fuckk, that arch is crazy." He praised, feeling his mouth water. "You get to fuck this pussy every night?" Gojo asked, grabbing a handful of the fat of your ass and jiggling it. Geto smiled and felt himself throb again, fighting the urge to jerk himself off until he came. "Yeah, just wait till you see her pussy." Geto felt so proud showing you off like this, you were the perfect girl, and he was more than happy to share and show off just how perfect you were,
"Let's see that pussy then." He said, tucking his fingers under the band of your panties and slowly pulling them down. You wiggled your hips back against him as your ass was exposed, bit by bit. Your head was forced to the side from the position you were in, meaning you were forced to look at Geto. The perfect view of him watching you intently while stroking himself off made you throb around nothing, excited to watch him cum while you get fucked by someone else. 
"Oh Shit Suguru," Gojo whined, dragging your panties down to your knees. He brought both hands to your ass and pulled them apart, forcing the folds of your pussy to spread for him, strings of your wetness sticking to yourself. You could hear Gojo's breathing pick up just from watching you. You felt so needy feeling his thumbs spread you open so close to your cunt without touching you, you needed to feel something soon or you were going to lose your mind.
Just before you were about to beg, you felt your ass part further before you felt Gojo lick a fat stripe up the expanse of your cunt, making a moan rip from your lungs. A hand shot back and tangled in his soft hair, pressing his head against you. "Ffff-uck-" You whined, your eyes rolling back in your head. Your shins kicked up and your toes curled behind you as Gojo wasted no time in burring his face in your pussy and sticking his tongue into your tight hole, sucking up all the wetness there.
Geto was caught off guard just as much as you, his hand speeding up on himself as he watched Gojo shake his head back and forth against your pussy, his cock throbbing heavily between your legs, dripping pre-cum against the cushions as he ate you out like a man starved. You couldn't help but wiggle back on him when you felt his tongue lap out and lick at your clit, making you see stars behind your eyelids. 
You don't know why you were so surprised at how good he was with his tongue. He was the sloppiest eater you knew and could put away four large ice cream Sundays in 4 minutes, and god if it didn't translate into the bedroom. Gojo pulled back with a gasp, massaging your ass cheeks in his hands, the bottom half of his face already covered in wetness. "Holy shit you taste good baby. Almost got lost in there." He giggled. Your hand released from his hair and fell back down to the pillow under your head, both your arms wrapping around it to ground yourself.
"I could eat you out all fucking day, but I swear my dick feels like it's gonna burst. Need to be inside you right now. I can eat you out properly another time, 'm sure Suguru wouldn't mind that, would he?" Gojo asked cocikly, hitting the dart right on the mark. Geto didn't answer, just licked his lips and kept his eyes on yours, staring at your fucked out expression.
"Yeah, he won't mind," Gojo said, answering his own question. Gojo leaned up and scooted closer to you, pressing his cock between the crevice of your ass. "Don't think I'm gonna last long," Gojo said, tapping his cock against your ass. "But then... neither are you two, right?" The white-haired man smiled all knowingly. 
Gojo rubbed his cock against the underside of your cunt, his hot cock stimulating your swollen clit perfectly. "Don't think I forgot about her. She'll get some attention when I get inside you." Gojo whispered, rubbing his cock back and forth a few more times against your clit before he pulled back and lined himself up with your cunt. Suguru watched with bated breath as his best friend took a few deep breaths and bit his lip, his eyes locked on where the two of you were connected.
His jaw fell open with the two of yours when Gojo slowly pushed inside, feeling little resistance thanks to how wet you were. His fingers dug into the fat of your hip as his head fell back, a loud groan leaving his lips. "So tight, s-so tight fuck-," Gojo repeated as his cock was sucked in by your tight, warm walls, so much tighter than your throat, if it was even possible. 
"How's it feel baby?" Geto spoke, his voice hoarse and deep with his arousal. "N-need you to tell me how his cock feels inside you," Geto begged, stroking himself faster. Gojo choked on his own moans and breaths as he tried to calm himself down, stilling his hips flush against your ass as he tried not to blow his load prematurely. "Suguru, s-Suguru it's so deep. F-feel it in my tummy." You whined, placing your hand on your stomach.
Geto groaned and spread his legs, feeling his cock throb at your words. "Deeper than mine? Huh?" Geto didn't know if he wanted you to say yes or no, he just wanted you to talk to him, to tell him how it felt. You waited a moment before nodding, averting your eyes. The dark-haired man found his answer when he had to squeeze the base of his cock hard to prevent himself from cumming at that moment. 
Gojo half smiles through his arousal at your answer before he rolled his hips into yours, fucking his cock even deeper inside you if that was even possible. "You're twitching around me like crazy, you want me to move now?" Gojo asked, using his thumb to pull at your opening where his cock was currently inside. "Please, p-please move Satoru." You begged, doing your best to fuck your hips back against him in the position you were in.
Gojo smiled before he looked over at Geto, who looked about halfway to losing his mind from being so horny. "You like hearing your girlfriend beg for another man's cock?" He teased, getting into Geto's kink to rile him up more. Geto nodded, his other hand joining the mix to play with his balls. "Heh, I can't believe my best friend likes to get cucked, and I never knew till now." That was the last words Gojo said before he started driving his hips into yours like a madman.
Moan after moan spilled from your lips, tears welling up in your eyes from the intense pleasure. Gojo kept true to his word and started rubbing quick circles against your clit, the wetness being fucked out of you making the sensation stronger. Geto rolled his balls between his fingers and jerked himself off to match Gojo's pace, slowing down or pausing entirely when he felt like he was going to cum.
"S-suguru, suguru-" You cried, your words coming out desperate and choppy. Gojo pouted behind you, his cock fucking into you rougher. "Hey, that's not nice. You shouldn't cry another man's name when I'm fucking you." He pouted, angling his hips to drive his cock deeper inside you, pummeling your sweet with every thrust.
"He's right baby, I'm right here, I'm here, but you can say his name its okay. Want you to say his name." Geto encouraged, making a smile creep onto Gojo's face, his fingers rubbing back and forth faster along your clit. "Fuck- Satoru, t-toru its so deep, feels s- good." You whined, tears now spilling freely down your cheeks. 
Gojo felt his cock twitch, he cursed himself internally for being so weak for you. He just started fucking you and already just from a few thrusts and cries for your name, he already felt like cumming. "I know baby, can feel how deep you're taking me, feels so good for me too baby." He groaned, wincing when you squeezed your cunt around him, a loud moan coming out choked from his throat.
The loud 'plap' sounds echoing through the room only spurred him on more, making him fuck you harder, deeper, wanting to hear you cry louder. A ring of cum had started to form around the base of his dick and dripped down his balls from how wet you were. Gojo's fingers on your clit started to lose their rhythm, going slow, then fast, jerking all over the place. It was doing it for you, so you had no complaints, but you knew Gojo was close.
Gojo rolled his head back, his hip's rhythm getting sloppy as well. Geto watched his eyes flutter in his head. Gojo looked like he was panicking, trying to calm himself down. It was obvious he didn't want to stop yet, but your pussy was just too good. "I know." Geto chimed in, finding Gojo's eyes. "Her pussy is dangerous, makes you finish so fucking fast. 'Specially the first round." He nodded, his balls tightening with his release.
Gojo groaned at his words. "Yeah, she's s-squeezing me like a fucking vice, and it's so fucking warm, f-feel like my cock is melting." He cried, his words rushed and high-pitched. "G-god I'm gonna cum." He whimpered, his body fighting to stay upright. His hips slamming against your ass felt so good, only adding to the pleasure he was already giving you.
The men's conversation was blurring in your head, the only thing your brain was focused on was cumming on Satoru's cock. "You getting close baby? Gonna cum on Satoru?" Geto asked, his cock throbbing against his hand. You nodded at his words, your eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, legs pressed firmly together as Gojo fucked you up to your orgasm. "R-right there." You whined, your back arching against him.
"Let go, baby, let go." With Geto's encouraging words, your orgasm crashed over you. Gojo clenched his teeth together when your pussy squeezed around him even tighter than before, pulling a wonton moan from his lips. He almost forgot Geto's rule only seconds before he came. Hurriedly, he pulled out his cock and started jerking himself off, making sure he continued rubbing his fingers over your clit, working you through your orgasm.
Geto came at the same time, white ropes of cum shooting out of his cock and dripping down his fingers, his legs spreading further as his body sank against the couch, his eyes never once leaving the sight in front of him. Your shins crossed over one another as your body was wracked with tremors. Your orgasm hit you so hard you were seeing stars.
Gojo groaned through his high as he jerked himself off over your ass, thinner ropes of cum decorating your ass and back. He came so much, maybe even more than the time he came down your throat. He had your cunt trying to milk him that entire time for that. "Ohhhhhh- ffuuuck." Gojo groaned, tapping the head of his cock against your ass as he started to come down, rubbing his cum on your skin.
You let your arch fall as you fell onto your side against the sheets, your body jerking every now and then. You pressed your thighs together firmly, keeping pressure on your sensitive, still throbbing clit. Geto wasted no time in tucking his spent cock back in his ruined boxers and pulled up his pants, walking over to the couch in front of him.
Gojo rested his hands on your ass and thighs, rubbing them soothingly. Geto crouched down by the edge of the cough and grabbed your face in his hands, making you peel your eyes open. You smiled the instant you saw his face. Geto leaned in and pressed a long, sweet kiss to your lips before pulling away and wiping the sweat and baby hairs from your face. "Good girl baby, I love you so much. Thank you, you did so well." 
You let his words relax your body further as you melted into the cushions, Gojo's warm hands caressing you and easing you even more. "Aww..." Gojo pouted, making Geto look over to him. "I'm feelin' kinda left out, can I get a kiss too?" Gojo teased, pointing to his pink, swollen lips. Geto made a noise of disgust before he directed his attention back to you, pressing another kiss to your forehead.
"Oh, so jerking off while watching me fuck your girlfriend is okay, but a kiss is too much? It's hard out here." Gojo pouted, only making Geto shake his head harder. "Thanks for doing this, and thanks for not coming inside her," Geto said, keeping his eyes on your relaxed face as he spoke. Gojo smiled softly, watching him caress you. "Yeah yeah, you pervert, anytime." He responded, ruffling the other man's hair. 
6K notes · View notes
zhongrin · 3 days
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honey, can you… oh shit wait i forgot we’re not dating (yet)
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© zhongrin | 2024 ✼  [✘] no repost・translations・plagiarism of any kind・ai data mining. [✓] rebloggers get a free cup of tea ♡
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✼ characters ┈ zhongli, al haitham, wriothesley, neuvillette
✼ tags ┈ gn!reader, fluff, non-established relationship, potential secondhand embarrassment, boyfailure neuvillette (/aff)
✼ a/n ┈ zhongrin uploaded 3 weeks in a row?! madness!!! utter madness!!!! /silly i feel like i've been writing too much cutesy/sfw stuff lately.... i want to write 'darker' types of stuff but my brain doesn't seem to want to cooperate ugh pain
ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ) ✼ ᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ)  ✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ)
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zhongli watches your reaction closely, at first.
when he deduces that you were self-aware of your own oversight and are evidently panicking about it, he gives you a warm chuckle and shakes his head gently, “there is no need to apologize, and please do not feel mortified in any way. it really is fine.”
if you continue to not believe him, the ex-archon will be as patient as ever with his words of reassurances, and he does not mind repeating them until you feel comfortable enough to ask him the real errand that you wished to bestow upon him.
... but not before he gently places a hand to the small of your back to lead you to walk a little closer to him due to the increasing crowd on the streets, his voice a tender caress to your ear, “coming from you, i certainly did not mind the nickname.”
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al haitham raises his eyebrows and shuts his book, “what a fascinating blunder. is that how you view our relationship subconsciously? or perhaps it’s an innate desire you’ve chosen to suppress but accidentally slipped out in a moment of unawareness?”
the scholar has the decency to wait for your answer betwixt your embarrassment, but he eventually sighs when you failed to form a coherent answer that satisfied his inquiries.
“you seem to have the impression that i am displeased at your err. i’d like to inform you that your assumption is yet another mistake - which, i would theorize, was made in the rush of the moment as your nervous system kicks into gear, therefore clouding your judgement. i would suggest you take a few moments to reanalyze my stance based on this new information. i’ll wait.”
and with that, he opens his book once more.
.... um.
congratulations, i guess?
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wriothesley takes the opportunity and replies with a cheeky, “yes, honey? what can i do for you, sweetheart?”
he relishes in the utter embarrassment that quickly spread across your face that’s akin to water faced with his cryo elemental energy (though secretly he’s also dying inside at the cheesiness of the situation) and throws you a boyish grin before ruffling your hair.
not a man to let an opportunity escape, the duke decides to leverage the moment to take his metaphorical shot and goes immediately for a straight jab, like an experienced boxer that he is, all the while praying to the hydro archon so that this would be yet another match he could flawlessly win, “you know, my schedule’s particularly relaxed today… i wouldn’t mind staying longer if you want to make it a date?”
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neuvillette blinks owlishly, his pale cheeks blooming with warmth as the situation starts to sink in. you, the apple of his eye, whom he treasured dearly and had taken great care to court, had just called him with a term of endearment that he had always dreamed of hearing.
wait, was this a dream? his gloved hands quickly found purchase on his blue horns, before he brought his hands in front of his eyes. okay, he had two horns and ten fingers, still. so he must not have daydreamed this. ah- wait, you’re staring at him. oh, now you’re giggling. and now you’re calling him silly. oh, it should be a crime to be so breathtakingー
it’s not until your expression changed into surprise that he realized he had said that thought outloud.
your teasing “if it’s a crime, are you going to put me on trial, monsieur?” elicits a darker blush on his pale cheeks and an awkward cough out of him.
.... this must be how the young ones flirt nowadays.
“perhaps after a proper date? if it’s not impertinent of me, may i be allowed to take you out on dinner tonight?”
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✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ) ┈
@abyssmal-skies ! @hamdehlesmis ! @sunnshineflxwer ! @queen-belial ! @silentmoths
@dustofthedailylife ! @marina-and-the-memes ! @mixed-kester ! @lordbugs ! @anonymousficreader
@irethepotato ! @sassy-cat-in-town ! @syrenkitsune ! @smokipoki ! @cakeboxie
@crystalflygeo ! @ciexuvia ! @illaasya ! @celestewritestoomuch ! @pams-comfortzone
@spidermanluvr444 ! @ourstrawberryclouds ! @ryuryuryuyurboat ! @hrts4hanniehae ! @fiannee
@frosts-intuition ! @florapocalypses ! @genshin-impacts-me ! @scarasmood ! @hellcatinnc
@beloved-brynn ! @malachitemischief101 ! @average-yandere-enjoyer
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nicksolemnlyswears · 3 months
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THE BEAR AND THE BEE HIVE
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summary: in which carmy falls for the sweet café owner that supplies him with endless americanos
pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader
word count: 14.4k
warning: it's a little bit of a slow burn. sorry. i'm a sucker for it and i feel like carmy is a slow burn kinda guy. 18 +, cursing, smut, p in v, oral (m. receiving), fingering, they use protection guys! i deserve a pat in the back. nothing too wild. oh, and very brief mention of suicide.
a/n: i started writing this way back in october and then it was nearly done and i abandoned it. well i finally got around to completing it tonight!
this is my first time ever writing for carmy and i tried my best writing this. i love carmy and the show but i didn’t expect it to be hard to write him as a character. i wanted to get him right so i took my time with it and didn’t rush it. hopefully you guys like my carmy. enjoy!
i think i've had this stored in my drafts for like 4 months and it's time for me to set it free.
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The cigarettes were not enough anymore. No matter how many smoke breaks Carmy took, he still felt the edge on his shoulders. A fear laced with anxiety that overtook him.
After deciding that blowing through yet another wall in his restaurant was the way to go, Carmy took a break. He needed it before he used the sledgehammer to destroy the restaurant in its entirety, along with his dream.
He remembers a coffee shop only a block away from The Bear and thinks he could use a coffee right about now. Maybe the mixture of caffeine and nicotine will be able to relax his shoulders, if only for an hour.
As soon as he opens the door, the smell of ground coffee beans greets him. He looks around, taking in the cozy ambiance the decorative wood brings to the place and the splashes of warm yellow that lighten it up.
Then he sees you, and his focus shifts entirely. His eyes only see you.
"Hi, welcome to Bee Hive!" You chirp with a small smile.
Carmy freezes, forgetting why he's there in the first place. He slowly steps up to the register, where you patiently wait for him. It's just after the lunch rush, so you're in no hurry.
He finds he's acting like a teenager who has just seen a pretty girl. Only he's not a teenager, and you're more than a pretty girl.
"What can I get for you today?" You ask, not noticing the effect you've had on him. You take a sharpie out of your yellow apron, preparing to scribble down his order in a cup.
Carmy has perfected the empty on the outside but screaming on the inside face. Strangers don't tend to know he's almost always losing his shit.
"I-I don't…sorry," Carmy looks at you briefly before diverting his eyes. He apologizes in a flurry, looking for an excuse for his weird behavior, "Uh, it's my first time here. What do you recommend?"
"It's not a problem," you say softly as if to calm him, "I'm a simple girl. I love the latte, but if you're looking for something stronger, the americano is one of the favorites."
Carmy nods as you ramble about the drinks, where the coffee beans come from, and the different notes of each blend. He hangs onto every word that slips from your lips. The static in his brain clearing up for the first time in hours.
It ends too soon as you realize you're talking too much and probably overwhelmed him. You sheepishly smile at him and trail off, but he continues to stare, waiting for you to continue.
"I'll take the Americano," Carmy nods, giving you a tight-lipped smile. Although he had been hanging to every one of your words, he was too focused on the shape of your lips and the sweet tone of your voice.
"Good choice," you nod, grabbing a cup from the tray beside you, "What's your name?"
Carmy looks up, slightly alarmed, as if you've asked for his social security number. "What?" He thinks you'll be forward and ask for his number next, seemingly forgetting how coffee orders work.
"Your name? For the order?" You explain, trying to ease his worries. He's odd, but in an endearing way. You believe this is his first time here because you're confident you would've remembered him.
"Fuck, right, yeah," he nervously says, pinching the bridge of his nose, "My name's Carmen."
"Your Americano will be right out, Carmen," you tell him, capping your sharpie back up.
Carmy quickly pays and stands to the side to wait for his order. He forces himself to not look at you or in your direction as you take other customers' orders. He just knows he's made a fool of himself already. Not that it matters. Why would it matter? He's there for the coffee. Nothing else, no one else.
As he walks out of Bee Hive, he sips his coffee. His shoulders instantly drop, and his fear-induced anxiety starts to dissipate for the moment. He's unsure if the effect is because of the caffeine or the thoughts of your pretty smile.
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Visiting your coffee shop becomes routine for Carmy. Whenever things at The Bear become crazy -or he starts to lose his fuckin' mind- he makes his way to Bee Hive with a cigarette hanging from his lips.
For twenty minutes, he's free of Richie's constant hounding, Sugar's struggles with the permits and scheduling, and Sydney's disappointment because the menu is still extremely underway.
Each time he's stopped by, you've been there to greet him, and each time, you've left a little heart by Carmen's name, which makes his heart race in a peculiar way. His hands would touch his chest to check if it was heartburn, but it didn't feel like that. It's not anxiety either cause he knows pretty well how that feels.
All he knows is he hasn't done anything to deserve such a gesture. He's convinced himself you draw little hearts for everyone because he's not special.
One Thursday afternoon, Carmy realizes he doesn't know your name. He looks for a name tag, but you're not wearing one on your yellow apron. He should know your name if you insist on making small talk despite his short answers.
He can't help it. He gets too in his head to answer like a normal person, so his answers come out choppy and dry.
"Alright, Carmen, your order will be right out," you say, handing his cup to one of the baristas. You always hold out and ask him what he wants to order. He has the right to change his mind anytime, but for now, he's stuck with the americano, which he drowns in sugar.
As curiosity eats at him, he gathers the courage to ask. "Thanks. Hey, uh, I've-I’ve never gotten your name…” Carmy says, cursing at himself for not formulating the question correctly. His hand comes up to grip his hair instinctually.
Your smile widens when he asks your name. The silly crush you've developed for your customer fluttering to life. It's just a crush over a stranger, nothing to write home about.
You tell him your name but follow it with "-call me Honey. Everyone knows me by that name. I'm sure if you ask my friends about me with my real name, you'll throw them for a loop."
You're rambling, hoping he doesn't think calling you by your nickname is weird. Then again, how can he judge when he has a sister people call 'Sugar' and he and his siblings also don the nickname 'Bear.'
"Honey." Carmy repeats your nickname, smiling as he finds it fitting. "In that case, call me Carmy."
"Nice to properly meet you, Carmy," you say, grinning.
Like all the days before, Carmy steps aside and waits for his coffee. He doesn't let himself continue the conversation or ask more about you even if it’s everything he wants to do.
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It's rare for Carmy to be in a good mood, and whenever it happens, it doesn't tend to last. His goal of opening a restaurant in 12 weeks makes it impossible for him to relax and enjoy the ride. To prolong this unusual feeling, Carmy stops by Bee Hive on his way to The Bear.
"Have you made your boss angry, Honey?" He asks as he pulls out his wallet to pay. He ordered the americano as he always does.
"No…why do you ask?" You ask, tilting your head in confusion.
"Uh, 'cause you-you're always here. Do you not take days off? Not that I'm complaining. I-I like seeing you here." Carmy's words get quieter as he speaks, red creeping up his neck. So much for trying to make a joke.
You look around the room and tell him, "Imma let you in on a little secret."
Carmy follows your hand, waving him to get closer. The smell of cigarettes invades your senses as you get close to him. You'd never admit that the mix of his cigarettes and your coffee is addicting. As both lean over the counter, you whisper, "I'm the boss. I can't run away even if I wanted to."
"You own the coffee shop," Carmy pans in shock.
Carmy is more than surprised at your words. Especially now that he knows how expensive it is to open a business. You can't be a day over 25 and own a successful coffee place. There is hope, after all.
"I do," you nod, standing straight once more.
A couple of years ago, you had inherited a hefty amount of money from an estranged aunt. Fresh out of college and with no real plan, you thought it would be a good moment to follow your dream and open the cozy café.
"How do you do it?" Carmy asks, amazed at the girl smiling at him. "I don't know if you know, but, um, I-I'm opening the restaurant around the block. Used to be The Beef?" He finishes grimly as he points to his side of the block.
"Oh, yeah. The guys who worked there helped me move some equipment when I first opened two years ago," you reveal, "Tell you what, whenever you have a break, come around. I'll give you a free americano and tell you all about it. Neighbor to neighbor."
Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Carmy agrees. "I'll take you up on that."
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Weeks go by, and Carmy seemingly forgets about Bee Hive and your pending conversation. You try not to overthink about his absence or how you might've scared him away. He's probably just busy remodeling his restaurant. You know better than anyone how much time that takes.
Still, his presence has become part of your routine, and you can't help but look at the door each time the bell rings. You expect to see him walking up to the counter, the remnants of cigarette smoke coming out his nose as he breathes.
You're pretty close to your assumption because Carmy has been dealing with the fire suppression test. They didn't fail the test once but twice, and if they didn't pass it on the third try, their plan to open the restaurant in 12 weeks goes out the window. Fak has tried everything, and nothing works.
He'd sent Richie once on a coffee run, but the fuckin' idiot went to the nearest Starbucks. Carmy had been looking forward to tasting your coffee and seeing his name in the cup with the little heart because he's 100% sure he's the only Carmen you know. It's not a common name in these parts of town.
One very early morning, he's walking to work, and as he passes Bee Hive, he sees you inside, wiping tables down before you open at 6:30.
Impulsively, he knocks on the glass, not giving himself the time to overthink things. You turn to look at the window and see him standing outside, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his familiar plaid jacket to protect himself from the chilly March air.
"Hey stranger," you greet him, opening the door and inviting him in.
"Hi," he breathes out, staring at you, "you're here early," he tries to casually mention.
You roll your eyes dramatically and say, "It's a downside of the job. Did you know people want coffee at the crack of dawn?"
You try acting as nonchalant as possible. It's not like you missed seeing one of your favorite customers, his beautiful blue eyes, or the way he rocks a simple white t-shirt.
"I had no idea," Carmy smiles, bringing his tattooed hand up to his lips, "I, uh, usually drink mine at night." That much is true. On those sleepless nights when insomnia takes over him, the best remedy is coffee.
"Would you make an exception and join me for a morning coffee at the crack ass of dawn?" Anxiously, you play with the rings on your fingers. It feels like you're asking the guy on a date when it's just a friendly coffee.
"As long as you have some business advice to spare?" Carmy responds shakily. He briefly looks down the street to glimpse at his restaurant. It's too early for anyone to be there yet.
"Deal."
Throwing the towel over your shoulder, you make your way behind the counter. Carmy attempts to make small talk with you as you prepare both drinks.
This is the first time he's watching you in action since you tend to stick to the cash register when he's around. It's not a coincidence. After the first time he came to Bee Hive, you wanted to see more of him, so you stationed yourself at the register where you'd be sure to see him, and he'd see you.
"Here you go." You place his coffee mug on the table along with yours before disappearing momentarily and returning with an orange soufflé coffee cake. You're pulling all the stops for Carmy to leave a good impression.
Carmy thanks you and sips his coffee, "Wow, this is fire!" He expected to taste an americano, but what you prepared was entirely different. He can make out hints of hazelnut and caramel in the coffee.
"Thanks. I took the liberty of changing your order. You can always come back to the americano, though…" you shrug shyly, looking at him over the rim of your mug.
"I-I appreciate it. Thanks." Carmy throws you a nervous grin. He gestures with his tattooed hand to dig into the cake you brought out. He shouldn't be the only one eating.
You and Carmy share the cake as you talk about yourselves and the crazy businesses you own. Somehow, talking to you comes easy to him. He's still nervous and scared to fuck things up, but the warm coffee and your even warmer smile ease him into it.
"How do you do it? This place is always packed, and you seem like you run a tight ship," Carmy wonders, playing with the fork. The cake is long gone, although the notes of orange remain on his tongue. Would you taste the same?
"It wasn't without mistakes. I had to learn a lot from my fuck ups and listen to my team because although I'm the owner, they are the ones doing most of the work. Whenever there's a flaw, they are the first to know," you speak softly, afraid of ruining the calm ambiance you've set up, twirling the small amount of coffee left in your mug.
It's your favorite part of morning coffee. When you have just the smallest bit of coffee left, and you know you'll never drink it because it's cold, but it gives you an excuse to remain where you are.
"So, all I gotta do is listen?" It's funny you say that because Carmy listens, but his friend's voices get muddled somewhere along the way. As much as he tries to focus on them, they merge together and form a cacophony in his head.
"A lot of listening and a lot of experimentation. I've been open for two years, and it's only been in the last six months that I can confidently tell you we found our groove," you admit with a grimace.
Bee Hive is your baby, but bringing it to life was everything but easy. You messed up so many times, costing you so much money. You didn't know shit about owning a business or building one from the ground up. Doing research and putting your pride aside to ask for help got you through it.
"I've only been doing this for, like, less than a fuckin' year, and I already want to pull my hair out," Carmy admits with a pitiful laugh.
"I'm sorry I can't tell you it gets better soon," you say apologetically, reaching for his hand that rests on the table.
Carmy freezes, glancing at your hand on top of his. He hasn't got a clue what to fucking do with the display of affection. Was it a display of affection? He doesn't fucking know. "It's, uh, it's, uh, it's alright. As-as long as you give me coffee, I think I can make it through," Carmen furrows his eyebrows as he stutters through the sentence.
"I can't wait to see what the award-winning chef does," you say, bringing your hand back to your lap, none the wiser to Carmy's internal struggle.
He should've done something to keep your hand on his. Place his other hand on yours or fucking turn his hand around to grasp it. He liked feeling your warm skin on his. It hasn't been a minute since you pulled away, and he's craving it already. It's ridiculous. Is he really that touch-starved that he's seeking affection from a near stranger?
He coughs and darts his eyes between the wooden table top and you, "Fuck. You-you know about that?"
"I might've done some research after finding out you're opening the restaurant. I got curious. I'm sorry." Apologizing is your default thing to do. Messing things up is your area of expertise. You really didn't think he'd mind you mentioning it.
"No, no, no, uh, you don't have to apologize. You just caught me off guard," Carmy shakes his head, reassuring both of you.
"Okay, good," you lightly smile at him, averting your eyes when your gazes meet.
If there's a time for you to make a move, it's now. Taking a shaky breath, you speak up, "I was wondering if you'd ever like to-."
A loud knock on the glass door interrupts you. You and Carmy jump and look towards the source of the noise. It's one of your regular clients, waving at you to open up. Looking at your watch, you see it's 6:30 already.
"Shit. I'm-I'm sorry I took so much of your time," Carmy apologizes, picking up his mug and the plate to put away.
You grab his wrist to make him stop in his tracks, "Relax. I enjoyed talking to you. Maybe we can do it again soon?"
Carmy nods wide-eyed. He likes the idea just as much as you do. You take away the mug and plate with a soft 'okay.' He then follows you to the door as you unlock it and turn the sign to 'open.'
"I, um, gotta go work on the menu. I'll probably be back later for another coffee?" Carmen asks you as if he's asking for permission, which you find adorable.
"I'll be behind the register," you say, watching him walk away. He turns his head back for a moment, and you catch the smile gracing his lips as yours turns to mimic him.
"Oh, he's cute," your customer, an older lady, says, watching him go along with you. "It's about time you got a boyfriend."
"Mrs. O'Hara, here for your tea?" You ask her, ignoring the comment about your love life. That woman will set you up with anyone. She does love her tea, though, and expects you to provide it on time.
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It's slow, but Carmen warms up to you. Instead of grabbing his coffee to go, he now drinks it at the café, coincidentally around the same time you take your break.
He's been hesitantly opening up. It's not like he's telling you about how fucked up his family is or how his brother committed suicide. More often, it's about the restaurant and his work as a chef, the struggles of getting every permit they need on a tight schedule since they are supposed to open in about four weeks now, or the occasional childhood memory. It's everything you need to know at this stage.
You love listening to Carmy talk, even if you have to coax it out of him sometimes. He's passionate about the restaurant despite all the stress that comes from it, and he adores the people he works with. He's shy but not in a dorky way because he's actually fascinating. Before meeting him, you never knew that collecting denim was a thing.
The smell of cigarettes that clings to him is also tightly laced with his character. When you step outside to get some sun and the scent of someone smoking hits you, your heart instantly speeds up, hoping it's him coming for his daily americano, or to come swoop you away into a sunset.
"-I fell on my ass in the middle of the street. I was freaking out, thinking I was gonna get run over by a car," you exclaim as you tell Carmy about the crazy Christmas you spent in New York last year.
"It's New York. You probably would have been run over," Carmy chuckles along with you. "There was this one time I was running late and-" His phone vibrating interrupts him.
"Sorry, it's just the fridge guy," he tells you with a furrow of his eyebrows. You notice he does that a lot when he's thinking deeply. Carmy silences it and looks back over to you.
"You should pick that up. A busted fridge is the last thing you need. Trust me. Been there, done that." You encourage him to take the call. The restaurant is more important than your story about how you bruised your coccyx in New York.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, Carm! Call him back before you forget," you insist, grabbing his empty cup to trash it. You don't give him any other option, leaving him there to help your employees with a faulty machine.
He watches you closely, closer than ever before. He allows himself to watch how you frown at the machine and how your ringed fingers fumble with the knobs. His eyes keep trailing down involuntarily, and they take in how nicely your jeans hug your ass.
He goes into a spiral into these old pair of Levi jeans popular in the 90s and how they would fit nicely with the shape of your hips and legs. Carmy continues on the tangent, imagining himself peeling them off your body.
The phone vibrating in his hand snaps him out of it. Clearing his throat, he picks up the phone and walks outside. He waves at you through the window as he makes his way back to The Bear. Your frustration at the machine vanishes momentarily as you wave back, except the machine splatters, forcing you to redirect your attention. When you look outside again, he's gone.
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Stakes are high at The Bear. There's less than four weeks until Friends and Family, and there is much to do. Marcus has returned from Copenhagen and is working on the desserts. Tina is doing her job as the new sous chef. Fak and Sweeps are helping out wherever they can. And Richie is being Richie, trying to be open but resisting change.
"I need coffee or a pop. Anything with caffeine," Sydney says, throwing her head back. She and Carmen have been working on the chaos menu for hours, and she keeps messing up. Carmy insists that it's okay that they'll adjust and get it right soon, but she's beginning to lose hope.
"Me too. I'd kill for an espresso," Natalie agrees, softly rubbing her hand over her growing bump.
"I thought you couldn't have caffeine cause of the baby," Richie mentions, remembering Tiff's time while pregnant.
"I don't need you to fuckin' tell me what I can or can't eat, Richie," Natalie yells, glaring at him. Although he's right, the doctor told her to limit her caffeine intake. Hard to do when she's up all night thinking about everything she needs to do for The Bear.
"Shit. I'm sorry for fucking caring," Richie screams back, lifting his hands up in defense.
"I can go to the coffee place down the block. Get everyone something," Carmy pipes up, looking forward to seeing you today.
Natalie is quick to shoot that idea down, "You can't. The fridge guy is coming in 20 minutes."
"Fuck, that's right," Carmy groans, digging his head in his hands. His fingers rake through his hair, messing up his curls. He wanted to see you and talk to you, even if it was for five short minutes.
"I'll go," Sydney sighs. She needs to leave the kitchen for more than five minutes, or she'll go crazy, "Just tell me what you guys want to order."
Natalie grumbles about getting decaf, Richie orders a plain black coffee, and Carmy asks for his americano. As Sydney leaves to ask Marcus, Carmy yells after her, "Please, go to Bee Hive. If you get Starbucks, I'm gonna fucking lose it."
Richie and Natalie exchange a look. Richie because he's confused, and Natalie because she knows something is happening with Carmy. He's never been picky over coffee. In fact, they have an old coffee machine in the office that now goes unused because he's always at that coffee shop.
"Sorry, I didn't get the fuckin' memo. Since when is Starbucks bad?" Richie frowns, looking to get a rise out of Carmy.
"I don't think it's about the coffee, cousin," Natalie responds, directing her gaze towards her brother, who is hunched over the counters, chopping vegetables.
"If it's not about the coffee, what is it about?" Richie questions, crossing his arms.
"Shut the fuck up, Sugar," Carmy grumbles, looking at his sister with a glare. He already knows where she's going. She tried to bring it up a couple of days ago after she walked by the coffee shop and saw him being friendly with you.
Natalie smiles and responds, "Carmy has a crush on the barista."
"That's ridiculous. I don't have a crush on her." Carmy shakes his head, avoiding Richie and Natalie's eyes on him. They always do this. They gang up on him if he shows even the slightest interest in a girl. They think they can help, but all they do is embarrass him.
"Come on, Bear. Why else would you go almost every day to get coffee?" Natalie asks, giving him a look.
"Because it's good fuckin' coffee. Jesus, it's not that deep." Carmy grabs the veggies he chopped and drops them into a container to use later.
"It's okay to admit you like a pretty girl, cousin! I'm excited for you! Makes you human and not a lonely hermit," Richie jokes, pushing on Carmy's buttons. "When was the last time you got laid?"
"I swear to God, Richie. Shut the fuck up," Carmy points at him angrily.
"No, I should go with Sydney and see who this girl is!" Richie says, walking out of the half-built kitchen.
Carmy follows him instantly, "You're not going fuckin' anywhere, fuckin' jagoff." He's turning red from anger, seeing Richie with his mocking smile. Natalie follows behind them, amused at the situation. It reminds her of the banters they used to get in with Mickey.
"Admit that you like her," Richie shrugs, giving him a choice.
"No, I won't," Carmy refuses. "You always do this shit."
"Then, I'm going," Richie nods, stepping towards the door.
"Fuck! Shit, alright. I like her, okay? Don't fucking go anywhere," Carmy yells, rubbing a hand on his face out of frustration. It's like he's not allowed to keep anything good to himself.
"Was that so hard?" Richie grins, clapping a hand on Carmy's shoulder.
"Don't fuckin' touch me," Carmy grumbles, walking back to the kitchen. Natalie follows him with a smile, shaking her head at Richie.
Carmy sighs and squeezes his eyes shut. He has yet to admit that he likes you more than he should. He's been avoiding it, afraid of what it might lead to, or rather, what it might not.
He couldn't let Richie go see you. He has a big fuckin' mouth and will tell you Carmy has a crush on you whether it's true or not. Just like that, he feels the sour taste in his mouth, his heartburn making an appearance. Carmy should go look for his pepto before it gets worse.
Unaware of the argument back at The Bear, Sydney walks to Bee Hive. She's walked past many times but has yet to have the time to stop and try it out.
As she waits in line, she reads over the drinks menu. It's clear that it's been carefully curated. Starbucks has nothing on this menu. She can see why Carmy would prefer to come here instead.
When it's her turn to order, Sydney takes out her phone to recite everyone's drink order. She also points to a few pastries, thinking Marcus would like to try some of them and get inspiration. That and she knows Natalie will enjoy them as well.
You're sitting at a table close to the pickup counter. You often find yourself all over the store, ensuring everything goes smoothly. Sometimes, you stop to talk to your regulars and see how they're doing.
You notice Sydney struggling with all the cups she has to carry. It's proving difficult despite the to-go trays your barista put them in. Deciding to approach her, you ask, "Do you need help?"
"Oh, no. I'm fine, thanks," Sydney responds with a nervous smile. She's trying hard to grab everything, including the box with the pastries.
You continue watching her struggle because you know she needs help. You let her try and figure it out for one more minute before stepping in again when she almost drops two of the drinks, "Need some help now?"
"Yeah," Sydney sighs, "I guess I can leave one of the trays here, go to the restaurant, and come back for the rest," she speaks mostly to herself.
"Are you going far?"
"No, just the restaurant down the block," Sydney responds with a sigh, scratching her eyebrow as she tries to figure out the logistics of carrying the drinks. She could get a box to put everything in.
You perk up at her response. The only restaurant down the block is Carmen's. Could she work there? "Carmy's restaurant?"
"You know Carmy?" Sydney asks, tilting her head. Maybe Nat was right. Carmy spends his time here because of the woman in front of her.
"He comes here often. Anyway, I can go with you to help you out. It's not far, and I'd feel bad if your drinks got cold." You offer to help her out because you're a nice person. Not because you want a chance to see the curly-haired man you are developing feelings for.
"You really don't have to…"
"It's really not a problem," you press, grabbing one of the to-go trays and motioning for her to lead the way.
Sydney sighs in defeat and nods, "Thanks. I'm Sydney, by the way."
"I'm Honey," you smile, following her outside.
You chat all the way to the restaurant with Sydney. She reminds you of Carmy in some ways, so you can see why they are friends. Before arriving at the restaurant, Sydney apologizes in advance for any sort of mess there might be, including yelling.
As you near the building under renovation, your palms start to sweat. Maybe you shouldn't have come. You're showing up unannounced, and he's probably too busy to talk to you anyway. You can slip in and out without him noticing. That's the goal now.
You open the door for Sydney, letting her go through first, and quietly follow her into the restaurant. There's no time to escape, as all eyes are instantly on you.
Richie is arguing with Fak when he sees you walk in. He narrows his eyes as Carmy looks in your direction from the kitchen. With just one glance to Carmy's face, he knows who you're supposed to be.
"Guess I didn't have to go anywhere. She came to me," Richie whispers, rushing out the door.
"Shut the fuck up. Where are you going? Don't embarrass me!" Carmy whispers out to Richie unsuccessfully.
"Oh, you'll do that all by yourself," Richie throws over his shoulder.
"Honey, hey, what-what're you doing here?" Carmy speaks, not giving Richie a chance to open his big mouth. He stands between you and Richie, blocking him for the time being.
"Sydney needed help with the drinks," you answer nervously, averting your eyes.
"Oh, thanks for that. You didn't have to," Carmy approaches you and takes the drinks from your hands. His fingers brush with yours momentarily, causing you both to blush.
"I did, or else you probably wouldn't have anything to drink," you whisper to him.
Sydney, Fak, and Richie all watch the interaction amusedly. Richie has a big teasing grin on his face as he makes a plan in his head.
"Hi, I'm Richie! Carmy's cousin," he introduces himself, shoving Carmy to the side and shaking your hand enthusiastically. "I gotta say Carmen right here is obsessed with your coffee. He's banned us from getting Starbucks."
Carmy curses under his breath as Richie does precisely what he tells him not to. He has the urge to throw the coffee at him and run away.
"Is that right?" You ask, amused, looking over at Carmy with a raised eyebrow.
"Oh yeah," Richie answers for him as Carmy tries to find the right words to say. "Cousin, why don't you give the nice lady a tour of the place?"
"It's not done yet. Could be dangerous," Carmy hopelessly says with a gulp.
"Nonsense! You'll take care of her!" Richie insists. He takes the coffee from Carmy's hands and pushes him in your direction. "Go give her a tour."
Richie, Sydney, and Fak all disappear to the office to stay out of the way and try to snoop simultaneously. Fak sends Carmy a not-so-discreet thumbs-up that makes you giggle.
He's internally screaming at his so-called friends but is glad to see you. It was all he wanted before Sydney left to get their drinks. It's strange having you here at The Bear, though. He's so used to seeing you in your own space back at Bee Hive.
Trying to make things better, you say, "Sorry you've been roped into this. You probably have better things to do. I can go-"
Carmy doesn't let you finish. "No, stay. I want to show you around."
"Let's see what you got then, Berzatto," you grin, following him to the kitchen.
Carmy takes his time showing you The Bear. He wants you to stay. He wants to spend time with you but doesn't really know how to say it. So he takes it slow, answers your questions about the restaurant, shows you the front and how everything will be laid out, and introduces you to the ones around, including the fridge guy working on the handle.
Sadly, you get a call from Bee Hive asking you to come back. Carmy walks you outside, dreading having to say goodbye.
"I'm really excited for The Bear to open. You have a great place and team," you tell Carmy.
"I really got lucky with them, huh?" He asks, playing with a dish towel.
"I gotta go. I'll see you later, Berzatto." You don't know where you got the guts to lean towards him and kiss his cheek.
Carmy stays still as his face heats up. You start walking away and throw him a smile over your shoulder. When you're a distance away, he touches the cheek you kissed. Back inside, Richie runs over to Sugar to tell her what he just witnessed.
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It's late when Carmy leaves The Bear. As he walks to the train station, he has his hands stuffed in his jacket pocket. On his way, he sees a lone light turned on in your café. Crossing the street to check it out, he sees you're still there with glasses perched on your nose in front of the computer.
He tries the door, and to his luck, it's open. You look in his direction, startled, but relax once you see it's him.
"Nice glasses," Carmy teases, pulling out a chair to sit.
"Are you making fun of me?" You purse your lips, propping your chin on your palm.
"No, I…I think you look cute with them," Carmy admits. After a stern talk from Sugar and Richie, he's realized he should probably make a proper move on you because if what they say is true, you also have a crush on him.
"Thanks," you blush, the light from your screen making it obvious to Carmy, who can't stop the corners of his lips from turning up into a smile.
"Late night?"
"One of my baristas is moving out of state. I have to find someone new, preferably who has experience," you say with a sigh. Glancing at him, you add, "Are you perhaps interested in the position?"
"Poaching me from my own restaurant, nice. I'll let you know I'm an excellent worker," Carmy jokes, tapping his fingers on the table.
There's no doubt in your mind he's an excellent worker. He has to be if he's considered one of the best up-and-coming chefs. Or to work in one of the best restaurants in the world with three Michelin stars.
"I don't know. I'll need references," you speak as if not believing him.
Carmy smiles and softly chuckles, "Fair enough."
There's a moment of silence between the two of you that Carmy is quick to fill, "So, uh, have you had dinner yet by chance?" This is it.
You shake your head no and look at him with hopeful eyes.
"Wanna go grab pizza? I know a place," he asks, finding your gaze on him.
"Say no more," you say, closing your laptop and taking off your glasses. "I'm starving."
Carmy waits for you to lock Bee Hive and grab your things. Then, you both walk to the pizza place. To pass the time, you and Carmy talk about your days and anything that comes to mind. Nothing serious as you get to know each other.
Waiting in line to order the pizza, you tell him all about your nickname and how you were donned 'Honey' to everyone who knows you. In return, he tells you about his nickname 'Bear' and why his restaurant is named as such. For the first time, he dares mention Mickey.
"Best pizza in Chicago," Carmy says, taking a slice of the pie and placing it on your plate.
"I'll see about that," you murmur. You wait until he has a slice of his own and dig in simultaneously.
"It's good, but this is not the best pizza place in Chicago," you say after chewing the first bite, "I'm gonna get your chef license revoked."
"Are you? With what proof? Have you tried all the pizza places to know?"
"I don't have to because I've tried the best," you hum, taking another bite. The cheese stretches as you pull it away.
"Oh yeah? Which one?" Carmy questions you, taking a drink of his beer.
"Mine. The pizza I make is the best," you shrug modestly.
"Wait. You cook?" Carmy asks, giving you a look of surprise.
Cooking is a universal thing. Most people know how to cook up to a degree, yet only some are as confident in their skills as you are. You know you're definitely not up to Carmy's level, but if there is something you know how to do properly, it's pizza.
"Yeah! You're not the only good cook here, Berzatto," you sass back at him, dipping the pizza crust in the marinara sauce.
"Sorry for assuming," he raises his palms.
"You're forgiven," you chirp.
"When will I try this famous pizza of yours then?" Carmy wonders. An attempt to see if you'd like to see more of him.
"I promise I'll make it for you once you open The Bear. You're too stressed to fully enjoy it now," you respond. You were reaching out. Throwing hints that you want this to continue in the foreseeable future.
The conversation continues to flow with an empty pizza box in front of you. Customers come and go until it's only the two of you and a drunk customer picking up his pizza.
"Tell me about your tattoos. Were they an act of rebellion or something else?"
It's an excuse to touch his hands. You reach for them, turning them to see the black ink on his hands and fingers. You gently trace over them with the pads of your fingers. Over the hand that's stabbed, the letters S.O.U. on his knuckles and the forget-me-nots. The one you're dying to touch, though, is the one on his bicep; you'd give anything to feel the hard muscle underneath the rolled-up sleeves of his white t-shirt.
"Uh, my first tattoo is the 773. Got it when I left Chicago for the first time. After that, I sort of became addicted to them. I found they helped my anxiety when it was becoming too much. The pain distracted me and made me feel stronger than I actually was," he says, letting you touch him. He finds that he likes it. Your touch is soft and warm. Comforting.
"So what you're trying to say is you're a masochist," you say, bouncing your eyebrows at him. Your touch goes further up his arm to turn it and look at the fish tattoo on his forearm.
"I guess so," Carmy responds with a breathy laugh, "Do you have any tattoos?"
"Maybe…" You shrug as the pads of your fingers trail back down to his palm until you pull them back towards you. Carmy instantly misses the feeling, opting to cross his arms to retain the warmth you left behind.
"It's bad, isn't it?" He says knowingly. Your reaction told him everything he needed to know.
"The worst," you grimace, shaking your head at the memory of you getting it.
"So, rebellion or something else?"
"Rebellion. For all the wrong reasons," you groan, burying your face in your hands, "Growing up, everyone saw me as a good girl because that's what I was. Breaking the rules terrified me. So, as a teenager, I didn't want to be seen as a goody two shoes, so the summer before I went to college, I decided that getting a tattoo would make me a badass."
"Did it work?"
"God, no. I only got the outline done 'cause it hurt like a bitch. Then I went crying to my parents, fully having a meltdown, apologizing for disappointing them," You scrunch your nose as you say the following words, "They laughed in my face, called me a wimp, and told me to suck it up."
Carmy fully laughs at your story. Head thrown back, eyes closing, "What did you get?"
"That's a secret, Berzatto," you purse your lips, avoiding responding. You just know he'll make fun of you for it.
Everyone who has seen your tattoo has made fun of you for it, yourself included. It's so silly and not badass. Carmy will have to wait to see your tattoo, and you hope this continues so he can see it up close.
"Really? That bad?" Carmy stares wide-eyed.
"It's terrible," you nod, leaning on the table. "We should probably get going before the waitress throws a fit."
Carmy looks over his shoulder to see the waitress glaring at them. It's five minutes till close, and they've made no move to go. He turns back to you and nods towards the door. Carmy helps you with your jacket and leaves a tip on the jar for the waitress. At that, she happily calls after them with a 'Good night!'
"Do you live far?" Carmy asks, seeing how dark it is now that most places have closed. There are too many lamp posts that aren't working. He'd feel better if he could walk you home or you called an Uber. Preferably the former.
"Only a couple of blocks away. Why?"
"It's late. Let me walk you home," Carmy says decidedly, not giving you much of a choice.
"Thanks," you respond with a small smile.
The pace you set is slow. You don't want your time with Carmy to end just yet. He's such an interesting and sweet guy. He's a little awkward, but it adds to his charm, and you can see he's trying.
Somewhere along the way, his hand brushes against yours briefly. Then, it happens again, and you decide to bite the bullet. You grasp his hand in yours.
"Is this okay?" You ask when he falls silent.
Carmy doesn't have a lot of experience with girls. He can't even remember the last time he held a girl's hand. All he knows is he doesn't remember ever feeling this good. "Yes, uh, this is okay."
Carmy walks you up to your front door when you reach your house. You unlock the door but stay outside face-to-face with Carmy.
"Thanks for the pizza," you say, fiddling with your fingers. You were about to make one more move for the night. Because as long as Carmy allows you, you'll keep pushing for more.
"Sorry, it wasn't the best," he retorts, rubbing his jaw with his hand. You notice he does that a lot when nervous.
"Your company made up for it," you reassure him, "g'night Carmy." You kiss his cheek goodbye, watching as his cheeks blush.
"Night," he whispers.
As you turn to leave, Carmy stops you by grabbing your wrist, "Wait-uh, can I? Uh-shit. Fuck it." For a second, Carmy shuts out the excessive thoughts in his head and does what he's been dying to do for weeks.
Carmy cups your jaw and kisses you. It's soft and slow. He gives you enough leeway to pull away if it's something you don't want, but you reciprocate eagerly. You've been waiting for this all night.
As confidence surges through his body, Carmy throws an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. You wrap your arms around him, one of your hands resting on his neck, tangling on his curls. The tug of your fingers feels like heaven.
The kiss turns needy and desperate, your lips moving perfectly in sync. His tongue brushes over your lip; Carmy has been dying to test a theory. Are you as sweet as your name?
He's rewarded by a little noise in the back of your throat as he slips his tongue into your mouth. It's endearing, and he finds a way to make you do it again. With heads tilting to deepen the kiss, he concludes he was right. You're pure honey. Sweet and addicting.
When Carmy returns to his apartment, he gets the urge to create, to cook. He wants to bring your taste to life with his cooking. Something with honey.
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"I was wondering if you'd want to come to the restaurant for Family and Friends."
You and Carmy are in your little office at Bee Hive. He stands between your legs as you sit on the desk. His lips are slightly red and swollen, and the hair at the nape of his neck is messier than usual.
"Hm, I could be persuaded," you pretend to think as you play with the golden chain around his neck, pulling him towards you.
"Yeah?" Carmy laughs, leaning to brush his lips against yours. When he feels you nod, he closes the small gap between the two of you.
His hands hold your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. He tastes like coffee, which is to be expected from the discarded cup beside you. It's funny how your relationship, if it could be called that, has moved all around Bee Hive from the register to the front and now to your office.
You're at a weird spot where you're not exactly friends because friends don't kiss, but you're not a couple either. It's a situationship for sure. You're content with what you have now, although you'd also love it if Carmy were to ask you to be more. You pin it on him being shy. He'll get around to it.
"What do you say?" Carmy questions as he kisses a trail from your cheek to your jaw.
"Consider me in," you giggle when he kisses a tickly spot.
Carmy brushes a strand of hair out of your face, remaining close to you. This is what he needs. After months of stress and anxiety of having to deal with The Beef, now The Bear, he needed you and your calming presence. Someone removed from the chaos, a safe haven.
He's quiet as his thoughts consume him, and you take the intimate position to fix his gold chain. Turning it so the clasp faces the back instead of the front. "I'm excited, Carmy," you say with a smile, brushing his cheek with your thumb.
"You can bring someone with you," Carmy offers nervously because he realizes he probably won't have the time to spend much time with you. "I-I don't think I'll be around much. I'm sorry. I'd understand if that makes you change your mind," Carmy drops his head as he braces himself for disappointment.
As the weeks pass, you learn more about Carmy and his insecurities. It doesn't deter you from wanting to be with him. Everyone has their issues. "Berzatto, stop. Look at me," you softly divert his attention, "I'd love to go and support you even if it's from the sidelines."
"You sure?" He asks once more.
If reassurance is what he needs, that's what you'll give. "Don't worry about me. This is your moment, Carmy. Enjoy it. I'll be around afterward."
"Thank you for understanding," Carmy responds, stealing one more kiss from you.
When he returns to The Bear, he helps Sydney prep the dishes they finally chose to serve. He notes how everything is laid out and anything they should fix before opening.
Richie struts into the kitchen with a suit on. Apparently, it's his thing now. Carmy figures staging at Chef Terry's restaurant had a good impact on him. All Carmy wanted was to show Richie he had what it takes. That he's not a fuck up.
"Glad to see things are going well with Honey," Richie thunders.
"What are you talking about?" Carmy says in a rush as he plates the lamb expertly.
"That thing on your neck," Richie says, motioning to his own neck. He has a smug look on his face.
"I don't have time for this, cousin," Carmy grumbles, wiping the plate where the sauce might've splattered.
Groaning, Richie grabs one of the new pans and holds it in front of Carmy. "I don't see anything," he frowns, looking at Richie for an explanation.
"Right here," Richie points towards the edge of his t-shirt around his neck.
Carmy pulls it back and finally spots what Richie has been referring to. There is a fading purple bruise on his skin, a hickey. You must've done it when he was back in your office. He'd been too busy touching you to notice.
Sydney, silently watching, pipes up, "No wonder he hasn't been as on edge lately." Carmy shoots her a glare, which causes her to shrug and laugh with a, "What? It's true."
"Ay, yo, Sugar, get in here!" Richie yells down the hall to the office.
"What is it?" Natalie barges in, afraid something went to shit.
Carmy ignores Richie as he babbles to Natalie what he found. His face is red, though, as Sydney nudges his side.
"That's enough about me. We have shit to do," Carmy shouts in his chef's voice.
Everyone in the kitchen, including Richie and Natalie, repeats, "Yes, chef!"
Walking out of the kitchen Richie, 'whispers' to Natalie, "I've always wondered if he likes to be called chef in bed."
"Fuck off, Richie," Natalie glares, but then it falls, and it's replaced with a teasing grin, "He definitely does."
"I heard that! Don't you two have better things to do?" Carmy screams at them.
"Yes, chef!"
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Carmy keeps hearing Cicero's 'Uh-oh' throughout the whole day. He understands Cicero, he really does, but to call you a distraction?
His work with The Bear is only starting. They managed to make it to Friends and Family. Now, they have to keep up their best work to fill up the restaurant daily and have a waiting list. His work is far from done. He should listen to Cicero.
Cicero said it with the best of intentions. He doesn't want the Berzatto siblings to fail. He wants to believe they'll succeed and, most importantly, get him his money.
If there is something Cicero has learned throughout the years, it is that girls are distractions. They mean well, but oftentimes, they keep your eyes off the ball. Especially when it's a new relationship like Carmy's. Ultimately, it's up to Carmy to decide what he wants to do. Cicero has played his part by giving him his advice.
One last delivery is made to the restaurant an hour before opening. Richie is the one to receive it and place it in front of Carmy. "She's a keeper, Cousin," he says with a pointed look and a nod. He also wants the best for Carmy, and yet it doesn't align with Cicero.
You knew Carmy would be too stressed and all over the place to eat or drink, so you sent everyone at The Bear a drink and a pastry. One of the cups has Carmen's name with a little heart and 'good luck' written on it.
"Yeah, she is," Carmy sighs, turning the cup in his hands to look at the message. His thumb brushes over your handwriting longingly. Is listening to Cicero the wise thing to do? He's one of the most successful men he knows in his family.
When it's 10 minutes till open, Carmy changes into his uniform and looks in the mirror. His heart is racing, begging for Friends and Family not to be a complete failure. Walking out of the bathroom, Carmy is a man on a mission.
It starts relatively well, but like everything in Carmy's life, the kitchen starts welcoming in the chaos.
They are too slow getting the orders out, which causes Sydney to start doubting herself and asking Carmy to step in. He reassures her she's doing good. They just have to keep up the pace.
Then, one of the new chefs disappears mid-rush. Forcing Tina to work two stations and Marcus to step out of his to help Sydney. Carmy ignores some weird tension between them as he works on ensuring the dishes are good to go.
Next thing he knows, Sugar is rushing into the kitchen, yelling at him about forks. It's wasted time, as he can't do anything about it. A shrill reverberates inside his head as he looks at the ticking clock. It's enough to give him a headache.
With no one to take a dish to its table, Carmy takes it upon himself to do it. There's no time to re-fire or wait for someone. He places it on their table and pours the tea into their cups before retreating with an 'enjoy.'
He looks at his restaurant, and suddenly, the ringing in his head gets louder. Sitting in a booth is his old boss, staring back at him like he did back in New York. Like he was waiting for Carmy to fail.
His voice echoes in Carmy's head. Why are you so fuckin' slow. Hurry up. Go faster motherfucker. Talentless piece of shit.
Right before Carmy spirals, it all goes away. His focus shifts entirely as he sees you taking your seat for the night. The one he chose because he'd be able to see you from the kitchen. You have successfully blocked the mirage he'd conjured up.
You're there with your brother as Richie talks you up, thanking you for coming. As if sensing him, your eyes lock with Carmys. Shyly, you send him a wave, which he returns, thanking you in his head for getting there at the perfect time.
Carmy ducks back to the kitchen with newfound energy. Richie enters shortly after him.
"Chef, your girl is here."
"Thanks, Chef, um, do you have the notepad?" Carmy asks as he continues cleaning dishes and making sure each one is up to par.
"Here you go."
Taking the notepad from Richie, he begins scribbling. I love- No, too fuckin' soon. Thank you for- Nope, it's too stale.
I'm happy you're here, Honey. Wait for me after you're done? -Bear
"Here," Carmy hands it to him without even looking at Richie.
"Keep up the good work, Chefs," Richie yells out to the room before disappearing to the front of the house. The door swinging shut behind him.
"Yes, Chef!"
Something isn't working in the kitchen. They're too backed up, and no matter how hard they try, they're always a tad too slow. Through Sydney surrounding the wheel to Richie, Carmy steals glances out the kitchen window. You're smiling at whatever your brother says, your lips sipping the wine he chose. Carmy can get through this night because, in the end, you'll be waiting for him.
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"There he is," you sing as you spot Carmy walking out of the kitchen. The chef's whites back in his locker as he sports his white t-shirt, jeans, and jacket.
Fak, who kept you company while Carmy finished up, speaks up next, "My brother, I'm gonna grab a sandwich and head home. Honey, it was a pleasure meeting you."
"You too, Neil!"
"Thanks for everything," Carmy tells him, giving him a hug and a pat like dudes do.
Carmy turns and grabs your hand to pull you close and kiss your cheek. "What did you think?"
"It was the most delicious thing I've ever tasted," you tell him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.
There's a reason Carmy has had so many accolades despite his young age. He has a gift in the kitchen. The moment his food touched your taste buds, your life changed. He and Sydney outdid themselves, and the way everything flowed showed how much work they put into the restaurant.
"You're exaggerating," Carmy modestly says, his arms wrapping around your waist.
"I'm really not," you shake your head, pursing your lips. Carmy can't resist placing a small peck on your red-painted lips.
"What about your famous pizza?"
"No, it might be the best pizza in Chicago, but whatever I ate today topped it," you smile at him, scrunching your nose. "Consider your chef's license reinstated,"
"Thanks," Carmy laughs breathily, "Do you mind if we walk? I feel some of the rush still."
"Lead the way, Mr. Berzatto."
Carmy grabs your hand, leading you to the streets of Chicago. It's silent momentarily as the wind cools Carmy's heated face. He places his hand along with yours into his pocket.
"Did your brother like it?" He asks, breaking the ice.
"Oh yeah. I'm officially like the best sister ever," you respond, squeezing his hand.
You had accidentally forgotten that your brother had passed the Bar exam. So, you didn't have time to get him anything in celebration. You figured dinner at a lovely new restaurant would help while you got him a proper present.
"How did you feel throughout, though? It looked intense." You often found yourself looking through the small glass window into the kitchen. They were always on the move, looking for the next thing to do.
"It didn't just look like it. I'm used to it, though," Carmy admits with a sniff. Everyone's best and worst habits shone through for those couple of hours. It's an environment he's all too familiar with, in and out of the kitchen.
"That rough," you grimace.
"It's fine. We have a lot to work on, but it's a start, and it wasn't entirely terrible," Carmy says, thinking back on tonight. Before coming out to meet you, he wrote down a couple of things to go through with Sugar and Sydney.
"Good, 'cause I hope The Bear sticks around the block," you say, bumping your shoulder with his.
You invite Carmy into your house when you arrive. He takes up your offer, holding your hand to help you balance as you take your heels off. It reminds Carmy he forgot to mention how beautiful you looked today.
He follows you to the kitchen, watching your hips sway and your dress skirt swishing. Padding to the wine fridge, you pick out a bottle of red to celebrate.
Carmy indulges in looking at your legs as you stretch up to reach for the glasses of wine up in your cabinets. His blue eyes darken as your dress hikes up, exposing your pretty thighs.
His gaze darts back up at you when you turn around to place the glasses on the kitchen counter. You hand him the wine opener so he can do the honors because you suck at taking the cork out. It's why you mainly stick to cheaper wines with twist-off caps.
"Here is to The Bear and its amazing owner," you say, lifting your glass in front of you.
"Here's to not fuckin' it up entirely," Carmy follows, making you giggle. Your wine glasses clink, and you take a drink.
Placing the glass back down, Carmy pins you against the counter, his strong hands resting on the edge of it. You look at him through your lashes, a hand coming up to his chest to feel the steady thumping of his heart.
"You look beautiful. I like the dress," Carmy murmurs. It's better late than never.
The dress you wear is a pretty shade of light blue. Simple yet dressy. The neckline gives him a good view of your cleavage and has long sleeves to compensate for the shorter length. They currently cover the goosebumps lining your skin.
"Yeah? I picked it out thinking you might," you reveal, biting your lip. The shade reminded you of his eyes.
"You were right," he whispers, cupping your jaw. As pretty as the dress is, he's sure it'll look so much better on the floor.
Carmy closes his eyes as he leans down to kiss you. He's always struggled with words, so he hopes it's enough for you to catch what he's trying to say.
You smile into the kiss, blindly leaving your glass to the side to be able to touch him. Your palm presses against his chest and taut abdomen. He hides a nice amount of muscle under his t-shirts, a pleasant surprise.
Carmy easily lifts you up to sit down on the kitchen island. He steps between your legs, never breaking the heated kiss. The hands on your waist trail down to your thighs and under your dress. Carmy's tattooed hands squeeze your ass and thighs, earning him a moan from you.
This is the farthest you've ever gotten, and you're more than ready to have all of him. Carmy knows this, which leads to his thoughts getting out of control.
He has to make a decision now. Does he allow himself to be with you, or does he remain by himself like always? Richie's, Sugar's, Cicero's, and Sydney's voices all shout at him different things. Some are in favor, and others are in opposition. 'Uh oh.'
He can't lead you on and sleep with you if he will back out tomorrow. The voices become deafening in an instant, ripping him away from your embrace. His emotions bubbled over and spilled all over the place.
"Wait, stop, I just-" Carmy breathes heavily, taking a couple of steps back from you. Carmy's hand comes up to his forehead as he attempts to organize his thoughts.
"What's wrong?" You ask worriedly. Did you do something wrong?
Carmen's thoughts spill out his mouth without making much sense as he paces in your kitchen. "I can't stop thinking about it and owe it to my team..."
"Carm?" You slide off the kitchen counter, approaching him slowly.
"-keeps saying it's a distraction," he rambles mostly to himself. His heart is pounding painfully in his chest. If he didn't know any better, he'd think he was having a heart attack.
"Hey, hey, hey. What's a distraction?" Softly, you grab onto his arms, stopping him in his tracks, trying to find his lost gaze.
"You. Whatever this is," Carmy breathes, finally meeting your eyes, which he instantly regrets as your eyes turn sad.
The watering of your eyes is unintentional, as is the knot forming in your throat. "You think I'm distracting you?" You question barely above a whisper.
His response is instant, "Fuck, no, the opposite. W-When I'm with you or-or think about you, things get clearer, and it's-it's when I feel the most focused." Carmy holds your shoulders, comforting you because he never meant to hurt you. He can't stand the sad look in your eyes.
Slowly, you begin to piece together his rambling and conclude that other people have been telling him you're a distraction. You wonder if they don't want him to be happy. The Bear is the center of Carmy's life, and before that, it was the restaurant in New York. He deserves more than this crazy job.
"Then fuck what others tell you, Carmen. You deserve to have a life outside The Bear." Maybe you're selfish because you don't want to lose him, but you hope he believes your words.
"I-I don't. I don't deserve all your attention or your affection. I'm nothing special. I don't deserve you." Carmy says, shaking his head with furrowed brows.
Weeks ago, he had no source of enjoyment. He said it himself at the support group. Now, he has you, yet he can't bear the thought of you wanting to be with him. He feels like he's tricking you into a bad deal. That's what he is, though, isn't he? An overachieving fuck up with tons upon tons of baggage.
Carmen Berzatto is an anxious person with too many problems in his life. He has a fucked up family. His mother is a mentally unstable alcoholic. His brother was addicted to painkillers and decided that shooting himself on a bridge was better than living this life. That's without mentioning all the trauma he has from his job and the terrible people he's worked with.
What good does he have to offer you?
"Yes, you do," you reassure him, placing your hands on his cheeks. The cool metal of your rings soothes him somewhat, grounding him. "You deserve all that and more, Carmy. You're so sweet and kind and hard-working. You've been through shit. You deserve something good in life. Maybe it's me, or maybe it's not, but don't close yourself off."
You're begging at this point. Whatever this relationship is, it's just starting. He's not giving himself a chance. You like Carmy so damn much. He's funny without knowing it and thoughtful, too. There are so many qualities he doesn't realize he has.
His eyes watch you as tears line them. He's silently pleading for you to convince him. To get him out of his own head and forget the expectations others have on him.
"I'm not going to force you into anything, Carm. It's your call, but I've enjoyed our last couple of months together. I know we don't know each other completely, but I want to know everything about you. I have feelings for you, so whatever you decide, I'll support it."
Being honest is all you can do at this point. You pour your heart out and hope Carmy chooses you.
You and Carmy stand in the middle of your kitchen. Face to face, reaching out towards each other. It's clear as day that you want the same thing. It's only a matter of taking the right steps now.
"I can't let you go," Carmy responds, grabbing the hand on his cheek. His thumb brushes over the back of it.
"Then don't."
Carmy's decision is made. Without another thought, he smashes his lips against yours. He grabs the back of your neck, tilting your head to meet his heated kiss.
It's more intense now that the cards are on the table. Nothing to hold him back.
Tongues clash together as your bodies seek each other out. The temperature rises when Carmy lifts you up to wrap your legs around his hips. His hands are on the back of your thighs, holding tight onto you.
"Bedroom?" He asks, breaking the kiss, a trail of saliva between the two of you.
"Down the hallway," you breathe heavily, kissing down his neck.
Carmy makes it to the bedroom, opening the door with a bang. He spots your bed, placing you in the middle with him holding himself up on top of you.
He watches as your back meets the bed and your fair fans around you like a halo. The curvature of your breasts accentuated even more from the position.
Carmy hikes your leg further up his hips as he dips down to kiss a wet trail down to the neckline of your dress. He leaves open-mouthed kisses on the rounded flesh, nipping at the skin playfully when you arch your back to push more into him.
"Carmy," you breathe, cupping his jaw to pull him back to your lips. Grinding your hips, you manage to graze against his bulge.
"Shit," Carmy shakily curses, thrusting his hips to meet your touch once more.
Curiously, your hands wander across his body. Carmy's moans in your ear make your panties wetter than they already are.
You grasp the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and off. You're desperate to have him, your cunt aches for him. Your nails scratch down his firm stomach when he bites into your earlobe, softly calling your name.
"Unzip me," you pant, pushing him away and pulling your hair off to the side.
Carmy grabs the small zipper, pushing it down and exposing your pretty skin. As he slides the fabric off of you, he kisses your shoulders and back, taking note of the goosebumps on your skin.
His mind is in the present, and nothing can take it away from him. It's like a switch he managed to turn off in his brain. No more family drama, no more The Bear. It's just you...and him. Honey and Bear.
You stretch your neck to the side, giving Carmy more space to pepper kisses across the delicate skin. The dress pooling at your feet exposes your chest, and Carmy's hands come up from behind you. His fingers shyly brush up your stomach, tickling you, until they find your breasts.
He draws a moan from you as he squeezes them in his palms, pushing you back to meet his chest; turning your head to the side, you find his lips.
The kiss breaks when he slides one of his hands into your underwear, dipping his finger to feel your wetness. Your arm reaches back to dig your fist in his curls.
"You're soaked, Honey," he moans, finding your clit to tease it.
"Been waiting for so long, Carmy," you whine as your hips stutter along with the flicks of his wrist.
"I'm sorry. I'm here now," he purrs into your ear.
Carmy can hear the distinct 'shlick, shlick, shlick' of his fingers against your clit. It spurs him on as he slips a finger into you. He can't wait to have his cock inside of you, snug and warm.
"Oh my god, Carmen," you gasp when he prods another finger into your entrance. Hanging onto his arm across your chest, you roll your hips against his fingers.
"I got you," he says, digging his fingers deeper into you and curling them.
Your knees buckle as the tips of his fingers curl and hit your g spot repeatedly. If it weren't for him, you'd be on the floor. With your tummy tensing under the weight of the pleasure, you stutter out, "I'm gonna cum."
Carmy's hand is wet from your juices as he ups the ante. Just as your walls begin to squeeze around his fingers, he pulls them out to circle around your clit.
"Oh, f-fuck!" You squeal, throwing your head back onto his shoulder.
The way your clit softly twitches under the pads of his fingers fucks with Carmy. It makes his cock throb and leak into his jeans.
Untangling from his embrace, you place a breathless kiss on Carmy's lips. His slick digits dig into your hips as he prolongs it.
Blindly, you find the edge of his jeans and unbutton them. If Carmy notices, he doesn't say anything. You want to give him one more reason to stay with you.
He moans into your mouth when you grasp his length through his boxers. He's rock hard as he desperately ruts against your hand.
With your hold still on him, you push him to sit on the bed. Carmy looks up at you lustfully. You plant a single short kiss on his lips before kneeling on the floor between his legs. You leave love bites down his chest while looking up at him through your lashes.
Carmy brushes away any hair that falls on your face, his blue eyes focused solely on you. When you reach the waistband of his pants, you pull them down along with his underwear.
His length pops up from its confines, slapping against his tummy. Its tip is a pretty pink shade, with a thick length and a slight curve to it. You salivate instantly at the sight of it.
Carmy's nervous under you. It's been a long since he's been with someone else, and he's never been the most confident.
"Relax," you say teasingly, kissing around his lower tummy to calm him.
Finally, your hand wraps around his cock, lightly pumping it. Leaving sloppy kisses down his happy trail, you feel Carmy's stomach taut in anticipation.
It's been so fuckin' long.
With your eyes staring into his hungry ones, you kiss the pink head that glistens with pre, teasingly brushing it against your lips. Keeping eye contact, you lick his length from base to tip. You alternate between kissing and licking for a minute, enjoying watching Carmy squirm.
"Fuck, Honey," Carmy throws his head back at your torturous pace.
"Look at me," you sweetly say.
Taking mercy on him, you part your lips to take his length into your warm, wet mouth, bobbing your head to a steady rhythm. Prying one of Carmy's hands from the bedsheets, you place it in your hair, encouraging him to use you.
"Good girl," he moans, fisting your hair to force you to take more of his cock. You let your hands rest on his thighs, feeling the strong muscles underneath.
Carmen observes you with hooded eyes as you hollow your cheeks, sucking him expertly. He's obsessed with how your lips leave behind a tinge of red lipstick on his skin.
"Shit-Fuck me," he yells into the room when you swallow around him.
You want him to cum, but Carmy has other plans. He doesn't think he'll last long if you make him cum now, so after the stunt you pulled, he pulls you off his sensitive cock.
The sight in front of him is erotic as a string of saliva connects you to his cock. The tears lining your eyes and blushed nose add to that pretty picture.
"c'me 'ere," he says, helping you up and kissing you as he leads you back to the bed. He tugs off your wet panties, throwing them somewhere in the room.
You lay back on your pillows with Carmy slotted between your legs. It's torture having him so close and yet so far. Now that you've gotten a taste of his cock you need more.
Carmy touches the inside of your thighs, inching his way closer to your cunt. He instantly notices how fuckin' wet you are. You're dripping even more than before.
"Sucking me off, got you this wet, princess?" He asks, leaning his forehead against yours.
"Mhm, Carmy, wish you would've cum in my mouth," you admit, tilting your head up to brush your lips against his.
"You have such a dirty fuckin' mouth," he chuckles darkly.
Where did this side of you come from? You're usually so sweet and delicate. He should've known you would be a freak in bed. To think he almost let this all go.
"Carmen, please."
"Please, what?" Carmen teases, lining his cock against your opening, wetting his cock.
"Fuck me," you moan, kissing his jaw.
"'m gonna fuck you good, princess," he promises, with a shaky nod before he remembers, "Fuck! I-I don't have a condom with me."
"I should have some in my drawer," you mention breathlessly.
Carmy opens the condom in record time but is surprised when you take it from his hands and roll it down his shaft yourself. You just want an excuse to keep touching him.
With your leg hiked up, he aligns himself and slowly pushes in. You both gasp at the sensation. Carmy, for one, is trying to not bust a nut so soon because you're so tight and warm.
Meanwhile, you hold onto Carmy's back as he stretches you out. It's been so long, and your toys aren't nearly as thick as him. You breathily moan in his ear, which he takes as a good sign as he begins thrusting more forcefully and deeper.
Carmy hopes this isn't a dream, and if it is, he hopes he doesn't wake up anytime soon. He has one hand holding onto your thigh and the other holding himself up. His gold chain dangles above you as he picks his head up from its spot on your shoulder. You take the chance to tug on it, returning his attention to your lips.
"You feel so fuckin' good, princess," Carmy groans, squeezing your thigh.
"I love your cock, Carmy," you whine, feeling the drag of his cock on your walls. The pleasure is all-consuming, leaving a fuzzy feeling in your brain.
"You like when I fuck you like this?"
"Yes, yes, yes, keep going."
His hips snap hard against yours, hitting that spot each and every time. His pelvis hitting your clit. He squeezes your thigh, hips, and sides before his hand squeezes your tits, too, playing with your nipples.
Suddenly, he straightens up, pulling you down the bed to have you flushed against his pelvis. He's a sight for sore eyes that forces you to keep your eyes open.
His thrusts are more forceful like this, where he digs his fingers into the fat of your hips to pull you towards him with each snap. It makes your tits bounce, hypnotizing him.
Through your lustful gaze, he looks like a marble statue. His chest glimmers under the lowlights of your room as sweat clings to him, his chain jumping against the blushed skin of his chest, and his fucking hair falling over his pretty eyes. The set of his jaw could've been sculpted by Michaelangelo himself.
Your hands indulgently reach down to touch him in any way you can. You can only reach his stomach, where a nice pair of abs appear due to the effort.
"You like what you see?" Carmy teases. He's entirely lost on you because otherwise, he wouldn't be as cocky to say that.
"You're so handsome," you pitifully say. Your brain not computing as it should, but how can it when it's being fucked out of you?
Carmy doesn't know how to respond. It's not often he's called handsome or looked at as lustfully as you're looking at him. Thankfully, he doesn't need to say much as your eyes roll back and you squeeze your walls around him.
"Carmy, I'm so close," you pant, trying to find any part of him to hold. He offers you his hand, lacing your fingers together.
"Just a little longer, princess," Carmy groans as you clench around him. "Fuck, don't do that to me."
He glances down at the spot where you and him meet to see a ring of white on the base of his cock. He's enthralled with the way you stretch to accommodate him and the way your pink walls drag along his length when he pulls out. Fuckin' beautiful.
Putting all his knowledge to use, he thumbs your clit, making you jolt. He needs you to cum now, or he won't make it. His balls feel like they're about to burst.
"Carmy," you cry out, tightening the hold on his hand.
You teeter on the edge for only a second until you cum, waves of pleasure washing over you. Carmy curses from above you as your tightening walls choke his cock, making him cum too. He stutters his hips a couple more times, riding out his orgasm.
He leans back down again, catching your lips in a small kiss. His body slowly relaxes against yours as his head rests on your neck, breathing in the scent of sweat and perfume.
"That was good," you breathe heavily, rubbing your hands up and down your back. You're just starting to think clearly.
"Fuckin' amazing," he adds.
There's a beat of silence before you both burst out laughing.
A bubble encases you, and it can't be popped as long as you stay in your bedroom. Carmy doesn't want to leave; it's late already, and in a couple of hours, he has to get up and go to The Bear to repeat the process.
For once, he forgets about that and focuses solely on you. He has a couple of hours to spare. Sleep is overrated.
You face each other on the bed, talking in hushed whispers. Your fingers trace the '773' tattoo on his bicep like you've always wanted to do. It tickles Carmy, so he grabs your hand and kisses your palm.
"Now that I'm thinking about it. I didn't see your tattoo," he whispers to prevent disturbing the peace.
Your face warms at his words. You had forgotten about that. He's seen a lot of you in the past couple of hours. What's a bit more of skin?
"You missed my big bad tattoo?" you joke, poking his nose.
"Show me," he says with a lopsided smile.
You make it dramatic, rolling your eyes and giving him a big sigh. Sitting up on the bed, you peel the bed sheets from your body. Carmy props himself up on his elbow in anticipation.
Right there, on your left side and under the curve of your breast is a small outline of Winnie the Pooh's face. Carmy touches it, biting his lip to hold back a laugh. Unsurprisingly, it's precisely what he expected from you.
A few chuckles pass his lips as he pulls you back into his arms.
"Don't laugh. It made sense at the time," you whine, covering yourself back up.
Carmy pulls you to his chest, kissing your temple, "I'm sure it does. Pooh Bear loves his Honey," Just like he does.
"Exactly! Someone gets it!"
And he does because Carmy, aka The Bear, is quickly falling for his Honey.
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A couple of days later, Carmy is back at your house helping you prepare the famous pizza you promised him. He lets you take the lead on everything, preferring to follow your instructions rather than let his mind run wild. It's not like you'll let him do most of the work anyway; it's your recipe, and you're protective over it.
"Can you chop up the veggies?" You ask him as you lay down the dough in a pan.
"Yes, Chef," he nods, kissing your cheek as he digs through your kitchen drawers for a knife.
"Oh, I like the sound of that," you muse, shaking your shoulders as you knead the dough to spread it.
"Don't let it get to your head, Hun," Carmy smiles, slicing the vegetables expertly.
Cooking with Carmy is surprisingly easier than you thought. He's not controlling over the kitchen or judgy. He lets you do your thing in peace, following your orders no matter how strange they might be. This is your kitchen, not his.
As you spread the sauce and cheese over one of the doughs, Carmy gets a call. He wipes his hands with a rag and picks it up. You only hear his side of the conversation.
"No, I'm off tonight. I'm with my girl. Call Sugar. She should be able to help you with that. Great. Thanks."
Carmy had promised himself that he would try to balance it all better. He has his team to help each other out. The Bear is a priority, but so are you because you help him keep whatever sanity he has left.
Carmy hangs up, and when he returns to you, he notices the grin on your lips as you put the toppings he chopped on the pizza.
"What's with the smile?" Carmy stands behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he props his head on your shoulder. Your hair tickles his nose, smelling the notes of coconut of your shampoo he digs his head farther into it.
"I'm your girl?" You ask, the smile still present on your face. He'd missed your initial reaction when you heard him call you 'my girl.' You almost dropped the container of pepperoni that was in your hands. It's a shock cause he never asked you to be his girl.
Carmy pauses and tenses up against you. "Uh, yes? Hold up. Turn around," he orders, as he places his hand on your hips to turn your body around.
"Yes, chef," you respond cheekily, your arms around his neck, careful not to touch his sweater with your messy hands.
"Aren't you my girl?" He frowns, rubbing a thumb over your hips.
"I could be, but I don't remember you asking," you pretend to think.
Carmy never directly asked you to be his girlfriend, and you never asked him to be your boyfriend. You might as well be a couple since you've been dating long enough. You decide to seize the opportunity now to get it out of him. Having a proper anniversary day would be nice because you hope this lasts.
"I see, my mistake," Carmy nods, catching your vibe, "Honey…"
"Yes, Carmy?" You blink innocently at him.
"Would you do me the honor of becoming my girlfriend?" He finally asks.
You could joke around but decided against it cause the moment is perfect, "I'd love to," you nod, giving him a small kiss.
When the pizza is cooked, you bring it over to the dining table. Serving Carmy a pretty slice. Excitedly, you wait for him to bite into it and taste it.
"What do you think?" You ask expectantly.
"You were right. Best pizza in Chicago," Carmy agrees with an unbelievable laugh. He's got a lot to learn from you. It's the truth, or maybe he's blinded by his feelings. Only time will tell where you and Carmy will end up.
The End?
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thank you guys for pulling through and reading! i know it's a slow burn but i hope you liked it! i certainly enjoyed writing it even though it took me like 4 months.
if you liked it, i would appreciate you liking it, commenting or reblogging. if you have some feedback feel free to send it my way too. i wanna get better at this whole writing thing!
thank you! bye xx
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arminsumi · 4 months
Text
S. GOJO ★ DID YOU KNOW THAT YOU'RE IN MY FANTASIES?
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Pairing : fem reader / teacher!Gojo
Synopsis : Gojo j*rking off to fantasies of you until eventually the two of you do it together on a phone call.
Warnings/tags : 🔞 smut, solo male m*sturbation, p*rnstar fantasy, d!ck visuals, big d!ck Gojo, risky m*sturbation (office), slight perv behavior, toys, breeding kink, use of sl*t, dirty talk, m*sturbating on phone call, pillow humping, mutual m*sturbation, phone sex
Note : lol this is the post that got accidentally published once. i hate tumblr mobile!! 😿 i still want to edit the original bc it has some juicy stuff. but i put some of it into this 😈
Library | Gojo
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The first time he does it, he doesn't actually realize that he's fantasizing about you. You enter his mind randomly one night as he winds down after a long day of teaching. He naturally slides his hands down his pants.
Satoru starts massaging his growing hard-on through the fabric. His big hand wraps around the veiny shaft and he gives it a few squeezes, sighing at the sensation.
Satoru hastily unbuckles his belt and slides it off with a whip-like snap, pale veiny hands rolling it neatly before setting it down on the table besides his bed. Those pale veiny hands quickly push down the hem of his pants and grab the base of his stiff cock.
He starts stroking it slowly up and down, with his eyes closed in relaxation and his other hand snuggled behind his head.
Jerking off leisurely, not rushing at all, just enjoying how it feels to pleasure himself with his own hand.
He pictures you naked. It's just a brief thought. He grumbles at himself and shakes the image out of his mind, as if he was indulging in a taboo act.
You're the teacher he works alongside. Every day you greet him with that sweet smile and kind voice that makes his heart tick. You're so innocent and untainted, he holds back from imagining you lewdly even though he really wants to.
He bites his lip at the thought of you.
Today was hard for him, you know, because your tight uniform seemed... especially tight. He commented on it in the afternoon, of course very subtly;
"Nice tits." he flirted jokingly. But his eyes were glued to your breasts like he'd never seen a pair before.
"Thanks. My uniform shrunk in the wash." you giggled in response.
"Ah, I see." he nodded understandingly, gulping when you bent over to pick something up — even if you tried to keep your skirt down, it still rose up your thighs just enough for him to find out that you wore a G-string.
The image of your body is stuck in his head now, when he's all alone in his king-sized bed.
It makes him cum. And he cums gently, letting out a barely audible grunt of breath while it dribbles out of his cockhole and runs down his shaft.
He swipes some cum off the underside of his cock and sucks it off his finger, tasting himself. Then he falls asleep like a baby, not thinking too deeply on the fact that he came to the thought of you.
****
The next few times get more and more intense.
His cock feels so much better when you're on his mind. Even when he's in a risky setting... like his office.
Though no one would dare to walk into Gojo Satoru's office without permission, there's still the risk that you could just burst into the room — maybe to complain about him slacking off.
He thinks about the risk, and it turns him on more... his cock twitches at the fantasy of you walking in on him stroking his big cock while sat in his office, long legs spread wide and head tilted back in ecstasy.
You'd find out the obvious but dirty fact that even Gojo Satoru needs to let off steam every now and then. He's not just a teacher all the time, he's also a frustratedly horny man.
Satoru squeezes the tip of his cock and clenches his jaw.
The angry veins decorating his shaft are all raised. His cock pulses harder at the thought of you walking through his office doors — he'd love to see your reaction. Would your mouth drop open? You'd find out just how huge his cock is. Would you offer to help? Nah, that only happens in porn, right? He keeps fantasizing about the scenario as if you and him are two pornstars on set.
In this fantasy, you're just sooo shocked and thirsty for Gojo Satoru's big cock, you can't help but ride him in his office even though you risk the whole school hearing the skin slapping and moans.
He pumps his fist up and down his cock faster. You know, originally he intended to nap — he rarely gets any sleep because of much he's needed in the Jujutsu world. But for some reason, after passing you by in the corridors, he got an angry boner that just wouldn't go away.
Working up a sweat under his black uniform, Satoru slumps down in the chair while totally getting lost in his pornstar fantasy of you. He gets too hot so he splits open his jacket and unbuttons his expensive shirt until his abs are exposed. It's funny, he's slowly turning into a performer... and all he's doing is just jerking off alone for himself.
"Fuck." he mutters under his breath.
He orgasms so hard while thinking of you deepthroating him that his toes curl — that never happens. Cum splatters on his abs and he breathes heavily.
You knock on the door and he gets shocked out of his skull.
"Gojo? I have those files you requested." you spoke through the door, "Can I come in?"
"Shit uh, wait! Just give me a second!" he yells, hurryingly cleaning his cum off his abs with a tissue.
He hastily discards the tissue, and buttons up his shirt, leaving a slit of his chest exposed to catch your eye, and calls for you, "Come in."
You swish your hips when you walk in, and it drives him nuts. He acts ordinarily, like he wasn't just getting off to a wild fantasy of you, his co-worker.
"Here they are." you say, and set the files down on his desk.
"Thanks." he stares at you hard.
You'd look so good bent over my desk.
"Gojo?"
"Yup?"
"You look flushed, do you have a fever?" you ask innocently.
He swallows and replies shakily, "Nah, I'm good. I was just... doing push-ups."
"In your... office? Fully clothed?" you eye him out confusedly.
He makes a cute, dumb face and shrugs his shoulders.
****
Satoru's made jerking off part of his nightly routine. It helps him sleep. And he also can't help himself; you're more in his life now than ever, he keeps your company often and his feelings are growing quick.
He's laid in bed.
His lips part erotically and his legs tremble as he furiously jerks off. Suddenly, he shoots forward and groans "Fuck!", cumming hard all over his crotch.
Satoru's cock doesn't want him to sleep tonight. It stands up again a few minutes after he cleans up his cum and rolls onto his side to sleep. He grumbles and tosses around, hoping his boner will go away.
But it doesn't.
So he starts grinding his cock into the bed, whimpering your name into his pillow. Why is he whimpering your name? And why can't he stop himself?
He scrunches up the duvet and humps it, ass muscles tensing with each rough thrust. The friction isn't enough, he starts stroking it with his hand.
But even that isn't satisfying enough.
I need a fleshlight so bad.
He squeezes his cock tight, massages his fat balls, switches hands even, does everything he can. But his cock is needy for more and his orgasm refuses to come along.
Satoru grumbles and stops, glaring up at the ceiling for a good long while before coming up with an idea.
He props a pillow and buries his heavy cock into it. Then he plants two big hands on it, grabbing it as if it's your hips, and thrusts his greedy cock back and forth.
The bed squeaks under the force of the Strongest's hard thrusts. He fucks the pillow and talks dirty to it in his mind, pretending it's you.
"Just let me have your pussy, please."
"You wanna have my babies? Of course you do. Slut."
"That's it, lay there and let me knock you up."
The thought of you squeezing his muscular biceps in your tiny hands is what makes him cum. He groans and clenches his teeth, jawline becoming super defined as he cums into the crinkled up pillow. His gooey cum spills out and stains the fabric.
He gets hit with a wave of post-nut clarity. "What the fuck..." he pushes his hair out of his eyes.
His forehead is sweaty, his chest is heaving, and he feels so guilty for getting off to you again.
****
So Gojo Satoru bought a fleshlight after that frustrating night. He rushed to leave work early, so you caught him.
"Don't be lazy, 'Toru." you frowned, "You're really gonna let me finish this paperwork all by myself?"
The doe eyes you gave him stuck in his mind. All he replied with was a suspicious chuckle and a lame excuse.
"I'm so tired, gimme a break just this once, please?" he pleaded, feeling his blood rush south. You looked especially good.
"Alright, fine then. Get some rest, okay?" you said caringly, letting him off.
He squeezes his cock into the pocket pussy and pumps it up and down quick, relishing in the sound of lube squelching.
The toy is too small for his big cock, but he likes that. It makes him think about how tight you'd be — oh damn it, there he goes again thinking of you when he really shouldn't be.
"I know it's too big, baby, but take it please..." he's dirty talking to you in his mind.
Satoru's got an unsuspecting kinky side to his personality, and it really shows as he fucks his toy. His heavy balls slap against the silicone, causing lube to squirt out.
He momentarily stills inside to suck the sticky cherry lube off his finger, imagining it's your juices. Thinking of how you taste makes his cock twitch, and he starts up with his pounding thrusts again, grunting under his breath and clenching his jaw.
Satoru's got an awful breeding kink. He once told you at a Christmas party that he hoped to start a family one day. Now suddenly as his orgasm works up with each thrust, he thinks back on your response;
"Me too, I'd love to have a big family."
He groans and twists your words in his fantasy; "Cum inside me, Satoru! Gimme your babies!"
"Fuck." he hisses, cumming hard inside the fleshlight.
Once isn't enough, he keeps filling it until he works up a sweat and his cock tires out.
After cleaning his cum out the toy, he washes his face in the bathroom and leans over the sink, shaking his head at himself for thinking of you saying such lewd things.
****
Fact: Satoru sleeps naked.
When passing the mirror in the mornings, he rubs his eyes and takes a moment to check himself out. He flexes his abs, and then a raunchy fantasy brews in his mind;
What if she rode my abs? Could I make her cum like that.
"Oh my god." he mutters out loud, rubbing his face in annoyance at his own horniness.
He slides on his sweatpants without underwear — cock too big, you know, gotta let it breathe without underwear. And he goes to the kitchen to make an super-sweetened coffee.
But his boner is annoying him. It stands up, making a bulging tent out of his sporty sweatpants.
Abandoning his coffee, Satoru gets his fleshlight and tapes it to the kitchen countertop, and squirts lube into it until it oozes out. He likes it sloppy.
Still thinking hard about the fantasy of you riding his abs, he lubes his abs up and caresses them slowly, feeling up and down his chest and tweaking his pink nipples for a bit before paying his cock attention.
"That's it, ride my abs. I know you like them."
He'd love to see you humping on his stomach like it's your pillow. As he slides into the fleshlight and slowly pumps in and out of it, he wonders how you touch yourself. Do you use toys, or your fingers? Do you take your time?
Pressing his two palms flat on the kitchen countertop, Satoru starts fucking the fleshlight harder and harder until the squelching sound is loud enough to reach his ears.
He's starting to think more deeply about you — how soft and warm your cunt must feel. How it would squish under the weight of his heavy cock. He'd definitely slap his cock onto your tummy to show you how much cock you were about to take inside.
Without thinking, he brokenly moans your name as he cums hard.
****
One night, you're on a call with Satoru. He lays back on his bed, long legs stretched out. Even though you're talking business stuff, the sound of your voice gets him hard and he rolls over — soft grunts carry through the phone to you.
"What are you doing?"
"Nothing. Moving around. You were saying?"
As you keep talking, Satoru starts subconsciously humping his pillow.
"Ugh, fuck..."
"What was that?"
"Sorry, got a cramp." he lies, sensitive cock twitching against the pillow.
He humps it harder and harder, sometimes slowing or stopping to reply to something you say.
"Are you okay? You sound like you're breathing heavily."
"Yeah, just... working out."
"... what's with you and working out so often? Didn't you work out in your office the other day? Freak." you giggle.
Your giggle makes his dick throb. He smiles guiltily.
"I've just been enjoying myself lately... um, with exercising." he speaks, voice sounding oddly sultry.
He keeps sliding his cock back and forth on the pillow. You return to the previous topic of grading problems, and he listens intently.
"What do you think, Satoru?"
He lets out a squeaky grunt that could easily be excused as one of those noises you make during exercise.
"Couldn't hear you, c-can you repeat that?"
"(blablablagradingsomethingsomething) Satoru." he hears you say his name at the end again and it brings his orgasm closer.
He nearly chokes as he swallows. "Yeahhh that sounds g-good... so good. Ugh, fuck."
"Satoru?"
He cums so hard hearing you call his name. As his cum spurts out, he pretends like nothing's happening and keeps talking to you in a shaky voice. A few seconds pass and he speaks a little more normally.
"Must be some work out routine to make you swear like that." you joke, voice suggesting that you knew exactly what he just did.
"Uh... y-yeah." he acts a fool. His face burns red hot realizing that he just possibly fucked up big time.
"Well, you're probably all sweaty and gross. Why don't you go shower and I'll call you back?" you suggest.
His heart beats hard and he cringes at himself. "Yeah, I think I'll go do that..." he looks down at his cum staining pillow. "... wish you could join me." he mutters under his breath.
"Wow," you giggle. "I didn't think you liked me in that way."
He grins, cheek squishing against his phone screen. "Sorry for being a perv."
"Not at all. I like the attention you give me."
His heart flutters. Well since the mood is set, he thinks, maybe he should prod and see how far he can take this.
"Do you think of me when you're alone in bed?" he asks.
When you hesitate to reply, he gets a little nervous.
"More than I'm willing to admit." you reply.
He smirks. "Oh yeah?" he flusters you with his deepened voice. "What do you fantasize about?"
"Mmm, come find out." you tease.
His boner is sticking up, begging for some relief.
"... I'm hard."
"Yeah, I'm wet."
"Uh... do you mind if I...?"
"Exercise?" you joke.
He giggles guiltily, "Yeah."
"... why don't we do it together?"
He widens his eyes and blanks for a second.
"You wanna touch yourself with me?" he asks in disbelief.
"I am already." you reply.
He chokes up, "Oh."
"So... what exactly were you doing earlier?" you ask suggestively, rubbing yourself through your panties slowly.
Satoru hums, "You wanna know my exercise routine?"
"Haha, yeah..."
"... I was just fucking my pillow. I never usually do that unless I'm really sensitive."
"Oh, so my voice got you sensitive?" you tease.
"Maybe." he replies breathily.
Precum beads out of the tip of his cock, enough to make a squelching sound as he jerks his hand only up and down the first few inches of his cock.
"... are you going fast or slow?" you ask.
"Kinda fast..."
"... okay, then I'll go faster, too."
Satoru listens intently, desperate to hear you moan. When he puts you on speaker, he can hear how wet you are.
"A-are you using a toy?" he asks, hearing some sort of thrusting action through the phone.
"Yeah... I'm trying to hit my G-spot but it's hard. Wish you could come help me." you pout and he can hear that cute pout.
"Shit, I'd love to. H-hold on a minute, will ya sweetheart? I wanna use my toy too. Keep touching yourself, don't stop."
Satoru hears your soft noises as he reaches over into his bed-side table drawer to fish out his toy and lube.
He hastily lubes up the fleshlight and slides into it. "Fuck..."
Biting on the hem of his shirt, Satoru exposes his flexing abs as he fucks his fleshlight loud enough for you to hear. He lazily tugs his shirt off with one hand, never stopping his thrusts.
"Satoru, I'm really close already..."
"I-it's okay. I can cum q-quick if you just say my name."
You can hear him pounding into the toy harder when you start moaning his name. All he needs to tip over is for you to announce your orgasm, and then he lets out a low growl and rolls his eyes back, releasing a hot load of cum.
His balls are squished up against the entrance of the toy as he stuffs every inch inside. And then oops, the poor toy breaks.
"Haha, fuck." you hear him
You ease out of your orgasm state and come back to reality. Oh, did you just have phone sex with Gojo Satoru?
"What happened?" you ask.
"I broke my toy." he replies smugly.
You laugh, "Oh, that's unfortunate." you say, "Well, if you need a new toy come pick me up tomorrow and take me out on a date."
"Wow."
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© arminsumi
I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
This is fictional work.
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lovebugism · 2 months
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can i request angst☹️☹️shy!reader barely ever talking and being soo hyperaware of everything and steve slowly breaks her out of her shell? then she overhears him saying she talks too much and she just feels bad and reverts into herself
Angst w happy endingn if possible please ily!!🫶🏼
ty for requesting!! — steve tells you he likes when you talk a lot (shy!fem!r, hurt/comfort, established relationship, 1k)
Your smile is wide and unknowing. Steve thinks there’s something extra special about it because you don’t even realize it’s there. “—And since Eddie was working the register, he let me take one of the new tapes for free. You know, to try it or whatever, and he was all like, ‘flattery works with me,’ and I was like, Steve would keel over if he was here right now.”
A giggle spills from your mouth when your rambling ceases, lips curling and eyes crinkling.
Steve blinks at you with his own absentminded beam, too busy thinking about how pretty you are to react properly to your story. 
Your smile sobers slightly. “What?”
“Nothing,” he assures with the shake of his neatly styled head, rogue strands of chestnut hair draping his forehead. He shrugs and leans his elbows over the Family Video counter you stand across. “You’re just… You’re talking a lot. ’S nice.”
Your face heats. Your chest burns with a similar fire. Your eyes widen ‘cause you didn’t realize that you hadn’t shut up until now. “Oh… Sorry—”
“No, it’s good!” he tells you, laughing. “It’s a compliment.”
“Is it?”
“Yeah! I mean, I used to have to bribe you to get you to talk about your day. Remember that?”
Benny’s Burgers was your very best friend at the start of your relationship. Steve would always buy your dinner — not in exchange for you to talk exactly, but in the hopes that the additional time spent with you would help you open up. It did. Most of the time, anyway.
Your nose scrunches. “I thought you took me out because you liked me?”
“I took you out ‘cause I liked you and because the sugar rush from the milkshakes made you talk more.”
You nod once. “Right.”
The conversation ebbs. The store gets eerily silent without your voices to fill it. Steve, undeterred by the lapse in dialogue, flashes you a lopsided smile. “Wanna show me the tapes you bought?”
“Yeah,” you murmur and push off the counter. 
Steve watches you over his shoulder while you saunter down the hallway where your bag is kept. The breakroom door squeals open and shut again. A voice sounds suddenly from beside him. “Nice job, dingus,” Robin chides, gritty and montoned.
His head snaps to the other side, brows twisted with confusion. “What?”
“You hurt her feelings,” she answers like it’s obvious, dropping a stack of VHS tapes on the counter with a heavy thud.
“I didn’t even say anything!”
“You said she was talking a lot.”
“I said that I liked it!”
Robin rolls her ocean-blue eyes, huffing ‘cause he’s too oblivious to get the point. “Yeah, but if I said, Wow, you have a ton of gel in your hair— but it’s styled really nice today, it’d give you a whole complex. Wouldn’t it?”
The make-believe compliment is dreadfully backhanded. Steve’s face floods with a gentle horror, the realization of a fallacy he hadn’t realized he’d made. “Shit…”
“Exactly,” Robin deadpans. “Now go take care of your girlfriend, dingus.”
He finds you in the breakroom, idling in place. You’ve got the cassettes in your hands, and you fidget with them between anxious fingers — like you were planning to come out sometime, but not quite yet. 
You tense when the door creaks open, relaxing again when Steve enters.
“Whatcha doing?” he wonders with a crooked, pink smile.
“Getting the tapes,” you answer in a mousy voice, waving the pieces of plastic in your hand.
The door clicks shut behind him. He inches towards you, fond and terribly soft with it. “I missed you,” he confesses in a faint murmur. His wide palms settle on your sides. You warm instantly under his touch.
“I was gone for two seconds,” you respond with a quiet laugh.
“Yeah. And I felt like I was dying.”
You meet his pout with a small smile, blinking up at him with sparkling doe eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”
“I just love being around you, alright? Sue me,” he argues, squeezing softly at your hips. With a quieter smile, he confesses, “And when I said you were talking a lot— I didn’t mean anything by it, you know?”
You’d disappeared back here because you thought it was something silly to be so upset over. He’d told you it was a compliment, but it didn’t really feel like one. Your brain refused to be anything other than hurt by his well-intentioned remarks. The ache in your chest became unignorable, and you shrunk inside yourself accordingly.
“I know,” you murmur.
“I love hearing you talk,” he tells you, shy smirk widening to a lopsided beam. “It’s my favorite thing in the whole world, actually.”
Your lips purse to the side. Your anxious hands fidget with the plastic cassettes in your palms, aching to hold him. It takes you a moment or more to find the courage to speak. “I’m just… I’m normally super aware of… when I’m talking too much, you know? I was just… Excited, I guess.”
“You were. And it was really fuckin’ cute.” A laugh sputters from his lips. He wears all the love he has for you in the deep honey of his eyes, rich and swimming with warmth. “I love seeing you happy.”
“Well, you make me happy…” you whisper, gaze averted. “So, it fits…”
“Yeah, it does,” he murmurs in response, ducking down to kiss you. It’s chaste and terribly fleeting — lips locking together one moment and then smacking in protest when they separate the next. 
It takes your eyes a second too long to flutter open again after he’s pulled back from you. You find Steve already grinning as he nods to the tapes in your hands. “Wanna pop those into the radio? So we can listen to ‘em while I work?”
Your brows pinch with a distant worry. “Won’t Keith get mad?” 
“Probably,” Steve answers with an uncaring shrug. “You don’t have to worry about him, alright? I’ll take care of you.”
You melt.
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luveline · 7 days
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BABE i miss badass bau!reader!!! do you feel up to write something about her and spencer? 🫣🫣
—Spencer comforts you, even when you think you don’t need it. fem, 1.2k
You’d think that agents and staff working for the Behavioural Analysis Unit would use a little subtlety when gossiping about their coworkers. It’s in the name. You’re a profiler, after all, but you wouldn’t need to be to know that the sudden quiet that falls over the kitchenette area when you walk in is for a reason. 
You’re determined to act unbothered. Only, it’s high school all over again, the whispering and the staring boring holes in the back of your head, and you’re thinking What are they saying about me? What have you done now? 
Flustered, you make a cup of herbal tea and forget it on the counter by the sink. Humiliated, you rush back to your desk. 
Spencer doesn’t look up as you sit. Your desks are together again for now, but who knows what whim will have Hotch separating you again. Last time it had been for ‘enabling bad behaviour’. 
So what if Spencer likes to talk? He’d only think all the things he’s saying to himself. You’re speeding up the process if anything by listening. Plus, whatever the others might think, he’s interesting, smart and funny and he deserves to be listened to when he wants to tell you things. 
“Hey,” you say, trying to push the humiliation brewing in your chest back to a quiet place. 
“Hey,” he says. He talks to you in a way he doesn’t with the others. He’s more relaxed, less exuberantly friendly and more like a true friend. 
He’s the only one in this whole office you’d ever want to sit next to every day. “Hi. What are you reading?” 
Spencer folds his novel closed over his hand, an answer on his lips that stutters and fades. “Hey, are you okay?” 
“I’m fine.” 
“You look unhappy.” 
It’s that unfortunate moment that Morgan decides to arrive, a cup of coffee in one hand, a brown paper bag in the other. He shrugs out of his leather jacket, eyeing you both where you’ve stopped your conversation, the slight light of smugness to his eyes as he says, “Doesn’t she always?” 
“Around you, Morgan, yes,” you say, turning your body fully to your computer. “That would be accurate.” 
Morgan laughs heartily. “You love me.” 
Maybe. You certainly don’t like him. Or, you’re annoyed with him most of the time. You wonder occasionally if he and the rest of your teammates are emotionally blind, considering the way they treat Spencer. Everybody makes their funny ‘harmless’ jokes, you’ve never understood why. They’re profilers, aren’t they? Can’t they tell it hurts his feelings?  And they love to tell you that Spencer’s your soft spot, he is, but he’s also a nice boy who wants to be listened to above all else, so you’re a little bitter about it. You weren’t too sweet to begin with. 
Today, you aren’t in the mood. You ignore Morgan and open your emails. 
“You want tea?” Spencer asks, standing from his desk. 
“No.”
“You always have tea in the morning. I’ll make it. Sit tight.” 
You follow Spencer’s figure as he leaves. Morgan wiggles his eyebrows at you from across the divider. 
“Do you ever think about taking him out?” Morgan asks. 
“That’s an inappropriate question,” you say. You aren’t monotone, but you certainly don’t bustle with emotion either.
“You like him, he likes you.” 
That’s exactly what Spencer needs, you think bitterly, the moody girlfriend, another thing to make him an outsider.
“You make each other happy,” Morgan continues.
“You get the same blueberry muffin every day,” you say, clicking an email attachment Hotch sent this morning distractedly, the temptation to roll your eyes at an all time high, “will you marry the baker?” 
“I could. His wife might not like the idea.” 
You hold in a smile. You sort of maybe do love Morgan, even when he’s prying. Better when Spencer returns and Morgan asks about the younger man’s weekend trip to Quantico’s seven floor library. 
“It was awesome,” Spencer says, putting a mug down in front of your keyboard, his palm still warm from the mug taking temporary station on your shoulder. “There were more books about inmate crime than there were dictionaries. Is that okay?” 
You take a sip of your tea. “It’s perfect,” you confess once you’ve swallowed. How does he know how you like it? He must steep it just as you do. Even the water level. You’d think it were the tea you’d left behind if it wasn’t in a new mug, scalding hot. 
“Morgan, could you excuse us, please? For five minutes?” Spencer asks. 
Your eyes widen of their own accord. Morgan makes flirty winky faces to hide his concern and meanders up the steps to Hotch’s office, pointedly looking away from the bullpen and your mess of desks. 
“What’s going on?” you ask. 
“I was hoping you’d tell me,” Spencer says. 
He’s wearing his glasses today, a rare sight these days, less so at the office when you’re sure there won’t be a case to go on. His hair curls at the base of his neck and flicks out under his ears, brown eyes like the flat of a mirror against the light, dark and deep. You wince when you realise you’ve been looking him over intensely, averting your eyes to the cup of tea warming your fingers. 
“You know you can tell me anything,” he says. 
“Sure.” 
“I’d defend you. Just like you would for me.” 
You drag your eyes to his. “I don’t know what you mean.” 
“I mean, if you want me to go fight your corner, I will.” 
“Who says I need that?” 
“It’s Madge, right? The blonde woman with the pearl earrings. She and Andrea monopolise the kitchen in the morning and talk about all of us.” 
You hate profilers, but you could never hate Spencer. You can’t find it in yourself to be upset that he’s worked out what perturbed you so quickly. 
You cross your arms over your chest, leaning back in your desk chair slowly. “There’s no point arguing with them, babe, you’d end up at Human Resources by the end of the day forced to write an apology letter.” 
Spencer looks like he wants to touch you again, hand heistant, fingers moving as though he’s typing curled into his palm. “I’ll stick up for you if you want me to. I don’t care if they make me write a letter.” 
“Can’t argue over silence,” you say.
It’s a kind offer, and he really is so handsome. Everybody else in the office might drive you up the wall but he’s a sweetheart, through and through. 
“I like when you smile. Doesn’t happen much,” he murmurs. 
If it were anyone else, you’d tell them to fuck off. “Thank you, Spencer. I like your smile too.” 
He leans down for a hug. Again, if it were anyone else, you’d wriggle out of reach and give a speech on boundaries, but it’s him. He folds his arms behind your head and back, encouraging your face into the crook of his neck as he bends to meet you, gentle even when you don’t hug him back. “Don’t listen to anybody,” he says, rubbing your shoulder with his thumb. 
“I don’t.” 
“Who cares if they’re talking about us?” Spencer asks. 
You touch his waist. “Not me.” 
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