catonthesideoftheroad

[catonthesideoftheroad]

[catonthesideoftheroad]

[catonthesideoftheroad]

the feeling |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: a little tipsy, definitely hungry, and missing carmen, you find your way to the restaurant after closing to see him.

my first work/ blurb here <3 I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it!!

contains: 18+minors dni. mentions of a gun and alcohol but not in a bad way lol? established relationship. slight mentions of a dom/sub dynamic. language. but really just fluff fluff fluff <3

"Yo! We're fucking closed!" Richie's voice boomed, throwing down the rag on the table. He huffed, teeth gritting, trying to remember to count yet he was still reaching for the gun in holster. Sure, he could be calm, but he still needed to be safe.

The pounding on the glass continued, a muffled, giggly scream from the other side of the blinds hiding the entrance. "Richie! Let us innnn!"

"Cousin," Carmen yelled from the back, running a bandaged hand through his curls. "What's goin' on?"

Richard rolled his eyes, peeking through the blinds to confirm his suspicions. Just as he thought, there you were, standing on the sidewalk in fucking Chicago with your heels in your hand, leaning onto your friend for support. Carmy was gonna be pissed, that was for certain.

"It's your girl." Richie scoffed, twisting the lock so it unfastened with a loud click, the bell trilling when he pulled it open.

"Richie!" You cheered, staggering on your feet. "Told you they'd still be here." You told Alicia, looping an arm around hers.

"My girl?" Carmen repeated, pushing the swinging doors of the kitchen, heavy chef's clogs on the freshly mopped ground.

"The hell you doin'?" Richie looked at you, face deadpanned and unimpressed. His arm held the door open for you and your friend anyways, jerking his head so the two of you huddled in.

"We did karaoke tonight." You grinned at Richie, clutching the nearest booth when you passed to steady yourself.

Karaoke night was a once a month occurrence, down at Trader Todd's. Carmen had went twice with you and Alicia before, it was a little too touristy for him, but he liked watching you sing. He'd laughed so hard his sides hurt when you serenaded a Nickelback song to him because "it seemed like something he'd like". It was good, nice to laugh like that. It was nice to be with you.

Carmen furrowed his brow, hands thrown out towards you lightly. "What are ya doin'?" He asked, rag slung over his shoulder.

You rolled your lip, eyes trailing down his tattooed, veiny arms. "Just left karaoke." You hummed, striding playfully over to him. "Got hungry and I just so happen to know a place with the best fries in the world."

Carmen snorted when you looped your arms around his neck, swaying with him gently. Richie huffed, eyeing Alicia at the booth. "We're closed. Didn't you see the sign?"

"Can't make an exception for us?" You pouted, looking over your shoulder at Richie. "C'mon, we came all this way for nothing? Not a single fry?"

"You walked here?" Carmen's eyes flashed at you.

"You need a cuppa coffee is what you need." Richie rolled his eyes, ignoring his cousin's comment.

"Ooh, I'd take a cup of coffee." Alicia nodded, head propped on her hand at the freshly cleaned booth, still a little wet and sticky. "And a slice of cake."

"Mmm," You nodded in agreement, grinning at her.

"Hey," Carmen's hand cradled your jaw gently, tugging your gaze back to him. "Did you walk here?"

"No." You rolled your eyes playfully at him, curling into his calloused hands anyways. "We Ubered."

"Good." Carmen hummed, his hand pressing to the small of your back, pushing you closer into his touch. "I'd have your ass if you did, you hear me?" He muttered, low and gravelly in your ear, hand trailing down to the swell of your ass, squeezing the fatty flesh through your dress. A warning or simply just him being playful, you weren't sure, but you flushed nonetheless, knees buckling.

"Kitchen's closed." Carmen announced, looking at you and Alicia, both your boos and cries of protest a chorus bouncing off the empty walls. "But I'll make you a fresh pot of coffee and see if we have any left over cake, but you," His finger poked your side, leaving you squealing and squirming in his grasp. "Have to clean up."

"Yes, Chef." You saluted him playfully.

Carmen rolled his eyes, but pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. Brief and light, not nearly the same kiss he gave you this morning before he left for work. When you were still rolled up in the warm covers, eyes fluttering with sleep, the light of the morning on your skin.

Carmen patted your ass lightly, before turning back to go to the kitchen. You grinned triumphantly, snagging two forks and napkins before sliding into the booth across from Alicia. Richie's face fell, dropping the rag on the table he was cleaning.

"Oh, no fuckin' way. Cousin!" Richie yelled, stomping towards the kitchen. "Carmen, we're closed!"

"I got is, cousin. You can go." Carmen nodded towards the door, scooping the ground beans into the pot. "Gotta take them home anyways. I'll finish up."

Richie's face fell slightly, eyes bouncing from Carmen back to you and your friend, giggling over your phones, slumped into the booths.

Carmen looked at him, brow raised at his displeasure. "What?"

Richie huffed. "I just finished cleanin' the tables, and-and I'm tryin' real hard here to help you out and be better, but cousin, you gotta-"

"-They'll clean it up." Carmen said firmly, pressing the button firmly. "Or my girl will. I'll make sure of it, alright? I got it."

"Carmy-"

"-Look, Richie, I appreciate you helping me. I do. You've done real good too." Carmen said genuinely. "But I got it covered. Why don't you go sit with them? Tell Alicia the Bill Murray story, she'll like it." He nodded towards your friend.

Richie's ears perked, turning to look at the girl across from you. His love life was still shit, that was for sure, bad date after bad date. "You think?" Richie asked in a low tone.

Carmen shrugged casually. "Sure, yeah. Watch. Hey, baby," Carmen called to you. "You ever told Alicia about when Richie met Bill Murray?"

"Oh my God, no." You giggled, head tipping back onto the booth.

"Wait," Alicia looked over at Richie with a small grin. "Bill Murray? Ghostbusters, Bill Murray?"

"Yes, holy shit, Richie you hafta tell her." You giggled, tapping the table lightly. "He got him to do his voicemail and-"

"- Hold on, you gotta start from the beginning or it'll make no sense." Richie held his hands up, sauntering over to the two of you. "Alright, so I'm absolutely hammered. It's six-forty-five in the fucking morning, me and Mikey are leavin' the bar just drunk outta our minds..." Richie pulled a chair up to the table, exaggeratedly launching into his story.

Carmen smirked to himself, cutting two slices of cake and plating them off the still warm, clean dishes. He could hear Richie's voice trilling louder and louder, your laugh a delicate melody that soothed his chest, filled it with warmth.

Carmen slid beside you, just in time for the voice mail, setting your coffee and plate next to you. You muttered a small thank you, pressing a kiss to his cheek before you moved into his side.

"No shit, it's still your voicemail?" Alicia gasped, eyes shining at Richie's

"Swear to God." Richie held his hands up. "Call it right now, you'll hear it."

Alicia looked over at you. You nodded, picking up your fork. "It's true."

"Well, now I gotta hear it for myself." Alicia declared, snatching her phone off the table. "What's your number?"

Richie flushed for a second, faltering before he sputtered out the number. You looked up at Carmen, brows raised in amusement. He shrugged lightly, pushing the coffee closer to you. "Drink it f'me, please."

You cradled the still steaming mug, lifting it to your lip while Alicia's jaw dropped, hearing Bill Murray's voice on the other end. "Oh my God!" She gasped, laughing. "That is so fucking amazing!"

"Thank you!" Richie threw a hand out to her. "It is fucking amazing. My proudest accomplishment- well, beside my daughter, of course, but a close second."

"How old is your daughter?" Alicia scooted closer, lashes batting towards Richie as he pulled out his phone to flick through photos.

You smirked, looking up at Carmen. "Thanks for the cake," You hummed, resting your head on his arm. "And the coffee."

"Anything for you, c'mon." Carmen shrugged, trying to hide the blush he felt rising in his cheeks. He hadn't done this before, really, had a relationship like this. One that felt this good. One where he felt this safe with someone.

"I'll clean it up, promise." You yawned, lashes fluttering, while your head fell heavier and heavier pressed on his bicep. "Hand wash 'em if you want me too."

"I know you will." Carmen muttered, shimmying his arm out so he could wrap it around you, letting you fall into his chest.

He didn't let you clean up, though. You stayed half awake, a little woozy and sleepy in the booth, listening to Alicia and Richie's playful flirting. You'd tried to get up, but he snatched the plate gently from you before you could, nodding at you to stay put.

You held his hand the whole way back to the apartment, resting in the center console, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. Richie had offered to take Alicia home, which she eagerly agreed to, leaving the two of you to return to your own place.

Carmen shimmying your dress off you gently, tucking you under the covers with him. The apartment didn't have the same haunting presence here that his old one did. Not tainted with nightmares or fears. No, here he felt good. Happy memories he'd created with you, loving ones that filled his chest with contentment. He still had his moments, waking in a cold sweat screaming and clinging to you, but they were becoming scarcer with each day. He took care of you, and you took care of him- it was everything he'd ever fucking wanted.

[catonthesideoftheroad]

Obsession

Summary: Miguel tries to convince himself that his obsession with you was justified, but fails miserably as you spend the night over.

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

18+. Miguel POV. Obsessed and jealous Miguel. Inexperienced reader. Breeding kink. Sexual tension and frustration. Reader has nipple piercings.

Previous parts: 1 & 2 (you may enjoy this one separately, but might miss out on some context)

Miguel tried to convince himself that adding a mic to your digital suit was purely for safety purposes.

He really did try.

But he couldn’t keep from listening in when you first wore it on your way to the spider cafeteria.

He had just briefed a squad and was monitoring Nueva York through a multitude of hovering screens, as he stood on his platform.

Tapping quickly on the flickering surface, he was able to zoom in on you through the ceiling cameras.

You looked absolutely breathtaking.

The suit fit you like a glove and left little to the imagination. He was proud of his work. You deserved wearing something of his for everyone to see.

He saw you approaching a nearby table, taking a seat. In front of you were Jessica Drew and Peter B. Parker with Mayday who greeted you with warm smiles.

The sound of your voice echoed through the walls around him, as you extended your arms.

“Mayday! Baby! It’s so good to see you!”

The little girl broke into a giggle and began wriggling forward on Peter’s lap to reach you.

You promptly took her in your arms. “Did you miss me? Did you?” your voice was slight high-pitched and you wiggled your fingers, tickling her. “Oh, I have a present for her.”

“Really? That’s so nice of you,” Peter beamed.

“I don’t have it here, but I think she’ll love it,” you said, patting Mayday’s back lightly, earning a genuine hug from her.

Miguel felt his heart clench violently.

You were a natural with kids.

You were just too good to be true and he felt his hands clench tightly.

Would he ever be able to have you? To make you yearn for him? To breed you? To have children with you?

“Wait, is that a… digital suit?” Jessica’s voice cracked through the mic.

You had your back turned to him, so he couldn’t see your face, but he felt the warmth in your voice as you spoke, “It sure is!”

He groaned lowly.

There you were… his sweet girl.

“Who gave it to you?”

“Miguel,” you said with that tenderness he had grown to adore.

He could easily get addicted to you saying his name, and he could only hope that, one day, he might hear it a much more compelling setting.

“Miguel… O’Hara?”

You nodded.

From the screen he could see her exchanging looks with Peter.

“It looks really cool!” Peter smiled enthusiastically, inspecting your sleeves. “Wish he’d offer me one, too.”

Jessica chuckled. “Well, I’ve been here with him for months and he’s never given me one.”

Jessica…

It was to be expected. She was no fool. He had scouted her precisely because she was anything but that.

You had been recruited only three weeks ago, but the hold you had on him was tight. He had never felt this way before with someone else.

You straightened in your seat, as Mayday nibbled on your thumb. “Wait… do you think I should give it back?”

Miguel felt his heart jumpstart and panic build inside him.

“No — no! Jessica,” Perer shot her a glare who merely shrugged, before offering you a kind smile. “It looks great on you. Did you pick the colours?”

“Yes! I’m really happy with the final result,” you said, helping Mayday sit at the edge of the table, as you secured her with both hands. “It was his way of showing gratitute.”

Jessica snapped her fingers after taking a sip of her drink. “You’re helping him out with the portals, right?”

“We’re working on portal stabilisation and reduced motion sickness,” you said and he could almost taste the pride and passion in your voice. “We’re making some progress.”

Miguel had gotten used to the random erections you’d awake from him throughout the day. But this one felt particularly painful.

You were so smart and so devoted. He couldn’t even take credit for the progress, because it was mostly just you.

His sweet and clever girl.

He glanced down at the outline of his strained cock, clicking his tongue.

By the time his eyes settled on the monitor, Jessica had walked away momentarily and he saw Peter lean in.

“Hey… are you and Miguel… a thing?”

Miguel froze.

Mayday proceeded to wrap tiny fingers around some of his locks, tugging lightly.

He wish he could have seen your reaction.

“Oh! No! No… we’re just friends,” you quickly said, waving your hands rapidly. “He’s like a mentor to me, really.”

Anger flared inside him. A friend? A mentor? He knew deep down this made absolute sense, but it still made him seething with rage.

Peter didn’t seem all that convinced, but nodded. “Just wondering. He’s not usually this… kind?”

Miguel felt his fangs threaten to emerge as he gritted his teeth.

There had been nothing kind about him building you a suit. He hadn’t done it out of the goodness of his heart.

He wanted to claim you and this had been the easiest and safest way for now.

“Well, I know he’s a grumpy,” you chuckled with a shrug, as you patted Mayday on the back. “Maybe he’s changing?”

You wouldn’t want him to change. Not really. The level of devotion he had for you was unmatched and nothing you could ever have from someone else.

“Maybe you’re a good influence on him?” Peter concluded, tapping his chin. “As a friend, of course.”

“Peter….” he growled lowly.

“As a friend,” you nodded. “Besides, there’s…” but your voice trailed off.

His erection nearly immediately deflated as dread took over.

There’s what?

He turned up the mic’s volume, but winced instead, as you banged on the table.

You cleared your throat. “Well, gotta go! I have work to do.”

Peter took Mayday back into his lap and chuckled. “Don’t forget her present!”

“I won’t! Wish me luck, though,” you said, crossing your fingers as you started to walk away. “I really need these chips to stop blowing and melting on me!”

“Good luck! Say bye bye, Mayday,” Peter waved his hand, which the little girl promptly mimicked with a giggle.

“Bye, baby!” you beamed.

Miguel had had enough.

He switched off your mic with a tap on his watch.

He really had tried to convince himself that his obsession for you was justified. That is was rooted in more than lust and desire, but he wasn’t so sure anymore.

After you moved to Nueva York, he had you working closely to him on portal stabilisation.

But what had started out as something innocent, soon shifted into something else entirely.

Your company brought him peace and quiet, and ticket his brain just the right way to keep him motivated.

Until it didn’t.

Until you became his torment.

He had let you in his life in the hopes that you let him in yours.

The first time you gave him a boner was when he walked in on you in the lab, wearing nothing but a tank top and a pencil pressed firmly in between your lips, as you moved from screen to screen to check on the update progress.

The worst part? You didn’t even notice how utterly delicious you looked and how he could easily bend you over and take you right there.

No.

You just offered him a sweet smile.

One he hadn’t recovered from ever since.

“Miguel?”

He jolted as the voice snapped him from his torturous thoughts. “What?”

Lyla hovered nearby, eyeing him closely. “Fangs out,” she wiggled her index finger disapprovingly. “Pavitr and Hobie are waiting for you.”

His fangs retracted slowly as he tried to gain his composure back. “Why?”

“Mission?” she quirked an eyebrow.

Right.

“Now?”

“You’re already late.”

He growled, tapping on a few screens hurriedly.

“Oh, and Miguel?”

“What?”

The hologram popped near the screen to his left. “You might want to be more subtle when using her in-suit mic.”

He gave her narrow side-glace. “What do you mean?”

“Just saying,” she said, adjusting her heart-shapped glasses. “You’re not the only tech savvy spider here.”

The door to his apartment swung open at once, and he stepped inside ready to decompress from the tiresome mission.

He had made plans with some of your audio recordings and his hand, hoping that would be enough to easy the pent-up tension that had been looming over year throughout the way.

It was a less than ideal situation, but would have to do for now.

That was until he noticed his living room was lit.

Pacing rapidly he was met with you.

In the middle of a pile of papers and electronic components scattered around the floor, he saw you sitting cross-legged with a pencil danging from your lips, his digital suit clinging tightly to your body.

“What are you doing here?”

Your bead snapped in his direction and the pencil tumbled to the floor. “Miguel! Lyla let me in.”

He was rooted in place.

Had it been someone else, he would have flung them through the window with no warning.

But you weren’t just someone.

And Lyla wouldn’t have let someone else enter his apartment, either.

“It’s quite late,” he said, pacing carefully toward you as not to step on anything. “You could have called me.”

You waved a hand dismissively and held a circular metallic object in the other. “Catch!”

Before he could say anything back, you had tossed it in his direction, which he quickly grabbed in between his fingers.

“Found what was wrong with it,” you smiled proudly. “It was stupid of me, really. There wasn’t any thermal paste in it. That’s why it kept blowing up.”

Miguel stared at the chip in his hand and blinked a few times.

“I assumed you were using it from the start,” he said, inspecting the cross section.

You rose to your feet in an instant and joined his site, excitement spilling from you. “These ion batteries should not require thermal paste — not for this amount of energy, at least. But yeah… my bad,” you said, rubbing the back of your neck.

Miguel locked eyes with yours and felt a familiar tingle in his body.

Fuck.

You were just so ridiculously attractive, and he wish he could hear you ramble about tech and science for hours.

“This is really, really good news,” he said genuinely, handing the chip back to you.

He squeezed your arm lightly as encouragement, knowing fully well he should be rewarding you in other ways.

His sweet girl…

You darted back to the floor, gathering some papers. “Sorry for the mess. I just had to figure this out and couldn’t sleep.”

A scientist at heart, you were.

Blood began to rush to his groin in no time. It couldn’t be helped. His body had been so on edge to finally fuck you, that it was in this permanent state of arousal around you.

“It’s fine. I still have those moments,” he said softly, crouching to help you out. “Sometimes I can’t sleep, and I have to do something else.”

“Like what?”

“I either go to the lab, or…” I jerk off to the thought of being buried deep inside you, he wanted to say.

You eyed him expectantly, biting your lip lightly, further hardening his cock.

“Well, it’s a bit late,” Miguel eventually said, standing tall. “Maybe you should get back to your apartment?”

He hated himself for even suggesting such option, but he didn’t want to push his luck. You being here would be fuel enough for the rest of the night as he fucked his hand.

“Oh, you just got back from a mission,” you fought back a yawn, tossing your backpack over your shoulder. “I’ll just leave.”

Miguel nodded, but was crumbling inside.

Your face lit up again. “But this was great, right?”

Please stay.

“You did great,” he said with a short smile. “Go get some rest.”

Please…

You made your way down the hall and waved at him. “See you in the morning, Miguel.”

He should have let you go.

But something took over him, before he could fight it back.

“Actually, you could stay. It’s nearly four in the morning,” he tried to sound as casual as possible, but the excitement was hard to contain. “And we have to head back to the lab early.”

You turned around and he stopped breathing.

Too much?

Then he the backpack slide down your arm, hittingbthe floor with a thud. “Oh, thank you! I really didn’t feel like swinging back to my apartment,” you voice held pure gratitude and he felt his ego soar. “Only… I don’t have any clothes.”

He shook his head as realisation hit him. “Right. Wait here.”

“Okay~”

Bolting into his room, he went through his closet, fetching a shirt and a robe.

But before heading out, he decided to change into some sweatpants and a shirt himself.

His erection welcomed the looser material, and he’d be able to better conceal it from you.

Taking a final look at his cock, Miguel decided to give it a few pumps as if trying to calm it down.

He couldn’t believe his luck.

He couldn’t believe his sweet girl would be so close to him in his clothes and apartment.

And bed.

As he exited the room and handed the clothes to you, he cleared his throat. “You can take my bed.”

You looked up at him. “Oh… no, Miguel. You just came back from a mission.”

“I’m not that tired. Just take it.”

Please.

“Are you sure?”

“One hundred percent.”

Anything that was his was yours. He would give it all to you.

“Be right back,” you said, before disappearing into the bathroom, closing the door behind you.

He immediately sighed in relief, adjusting his cock, feeling the first beads of precum spill from the tip.

How was he to survive this?

Not long after, you emerged again.

He glanced over at the length of you, taking in the sight of his shirt and robe on you. Your legs were still covered with the digital suit, but you looked absolutely ready to be devoured.

But he couldn’t do it.

Not yet.

His cock twitched in his pants, yearning to be inside you.

Then something else caught his attention when his moved up your body.

It couldn’t be…

Two symmetrical protuberances poked through the fabric of your shirt — his shirt.

“Are those…” his voice faltered momentarily, not trusting his own eyes.

You followd his line of sight and giggled. “Oh! Yeah. Got them pierced way back. Wanted to defy my dad and got them out of spite,” you went on, adjusting the fabric of the shirt under the robe. “But eventually kept them. They look cute.”

Cute?

Miguel was at a loss for words.

Your voice mixed with your carefree posture sent jolts directly into his cock.

“I…” he swallowed the lump in his throat. “I didn’t notice them before,” he said, feeling his mouth run dry.

“I was wearing a bra,” you replied with a shrug and a tender smile.

This was almost comically painful.

You were the closest thing he had ever known to innocence as of late. Yet here you stood, wearing just his shirt, no bra, and with your pierced nipples poking through his shirt.

But none of that seemed to matter to you.

You were completely oblivious of how painfully hard he was for you.

“Did it hurt?”

“Terribly,” you said, still glacing down at your breasts and hardened nipples. “But I think it’s worth it.”

The adorable way in which you said it was almost driving him insane.

Just how innocent could one person be…

Before he could even process his thoughts, he spoke, “Can I…”

Your eyes met his and Miguel feared he had now fucked it up for good.

Brilliant, Miguel…

“Oh, you mean… you want to see them?”

Should he back down and just deny his intentions?

“You’ve never seen nipple piercings before?”

He shook his head.

Just as he was about to tell you to forget it, you lifted his shirt, revealing your breasts to him.

He nearly exploded right there and then.

“Oh, please!” she giggled. “We’re people of science, and you haven’t seen this before. Science is all about curiosity and discovery.”

Miguel, however, wasn’t listening to any of that and felt as though he was hypnotised. He could tear his eyes away from your perky nipples and the metal rods that went through them, a tiny spider danging from each of them.

He wasn’t sure when or how he had got so close to you, but he lifted his hand to touch one.

His cock twitched violently and he felt his mind hazy with lust.

“They’re cool, right?” you beamed, allowing him to swipe the pad of his thumb across the tiny spider.

“Yeah.”

Really ‘cool’.

More precum dripped from his tip and had to fight back his fangs from slipping out.

He wanted to bend over and dart his tongue out to play with them. He wanted to tug on them and wanted you to arch your back with a soft moan.

You pulled down the shirt again and he flinched his hand back instantly, swallowing hard.

“So… if — when you have a baby and want to breastfeed… will there be an issue?”

Of course his need to breed you had to surface at the worst possible time.

But he had to know. He needed to know if that would be a nuisance. He couldn’t take any risks and he wanted you completely ready to carry his children.

You shrugged, adjusting the robe around you. “I wasn’t thinking that far ahead when I got them, but I suppose I just have to take them out.”

He nodded, taking a few steps back.

You stretched out with a yawn. “Mind if I go to sleep now?”

“Of course,” he nodded.

You were about to whirl on your feet, but decided against it. “How do you say ‘thank you’ in Spanish?”

That caught him off guard and his eyes widened. “Gracias.”

Then you gave him the sweetest smile. “Gracias, Miguel.

He could cum just from this alone.

How he would teach you the filthiest things in Spanish… how he would whisper them in your ear, knowing fully well you couldn’t understand a word…

You then slipped into his room and closed the door.

He ran both hands through his hair, wanting to let out a scream.

The things he wanted to do to you…

The things you deserved done to you…

He brought one hand down to tug at his waistband, revealing his soaked cock.

Then he bit the back of his other hand.

Hard.

He didn’t even care if he drew blood.

He couldn’t take this anymore.

Engulfed with overwhelming frustration, he pressed his forehead against the tall window that overlooked Nueva York.

He had to calm down, or else he’d have to synthesise a serum to lower his levels of testosterone…

He had to find a way to stop.

As minutes ticked by, he decided to check your bio readings on his watch. Your heart rate had lowered significantly, indicating him you were now asleep.

The predator in him took control again and he paced towards his bedroom, opening the door just enough to check on you.

Fast asleep.

He walked in with careful steps, finally taking in the sight of you on his bed.

The floor-to-ceiling windows allowed for the faintest moonlight to be cast on you.

He felt his heart was about to implode as he drew near, slowly sitting by the edge of the mattress.

You lay on your back, breathing evenly and covered up to your waist with a blanket.

Miguel took a deep and shaky breath.

You smelled of him and his bedsheets smelled of you.

Such a powerful and dangerous combination, that he almost considered gripping his cock.

Bur decided against it.

Instead, he say there, staring at you, absorbing every single detail of your body.

His hand twitched as an itch took over it.

An itch he had to scratch.

He reached out to graze the back of one finger along your forearm, feeling your warmth coating his skin.

His sweet girl…

His imagination ran wild and he had hoped he could have fucked you to sleep, not sliding out of you, making sure you’d take his seed.

Pain swallowed him whole as despair settled.

What if he never managed to make you his?

What if you decided you wanted nothing more than a friendship?

How could he cope?

Suddenly, you flinched and rolled to your side and heaved a deep sigh. “Oh, Tom…”

Miguel was left petrified and his blood ran cold.

Who the fuck was Tom?

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Masterlist

[catonthesideoftheroad]

you should probably leave || carmy b.

———

content warning: carmy’s an ass, angst, illusion to sex

pairing: carmy x reader

synopsis: things never go as planned when it

comes to carmy.

based on the song you should probably leave by chris stapleton

carmy sat in your apartment kitchen at the oak wood table. he stared intently at the glass of water in front of him while you stabbed at the noodles on your plate. the silence between you two wasn’t new but that didn’t make it any less bearable.

carmy’s crystal blue eyes occasionally darted across your face causing you to look down at your plate.

your phone lit up with a notification as the screen showed off the time.

10:27

“it’s getting pretty late.” you said

“is it?” he ran a hand over his blond locks

you nodded, “almost 10:30.”

carmy looks out the window placed above the sink as the darkness outside confirms the time.

“you can finish your plate, though.” you offer

his own plate of mostaccioli most likely just above cold at this point.

“don’t wanna waste food.” he mumbles

you hum.

eventually you get up from your chair to scrape off the remnants of food left on your plate before placing it in the sink. carmy’s chair scrapes the floor as he gets up.

“i should probably go.” he says as he looks at your hardwood floor

“i’ll walk you to the door.” you offer a tight lipped smile

he leads the way through the kitchen and living room to the small entrance way. carmy’s just a few inches taller than you causing you to look up just slightly.

his blue eyes seem more enticing than usual, the tired seemingly etched into his face is gone for the moment, drawing you in by the second. your lips land on his and you relax in his touch. his grip on your waist feels dangerously hot as his other hand holds your face in place.

you want to hate yourself, your relationship with carmy has been nothing but difficult, but you can’t stop yourself from making the same mistakes again and again.

carmy pulls away then goes back another kiss leading to a full make out session. he takes off his jean jacket, the jean jacket you had gifted him for christmas last year, and throws it on the couch.

“bedroom?” you suggest, chest rising and falling rapidly

he nods and leads the way.

he sits at the edge of your bed and has you straddle his waist as he kissed down your neck making sure to leave marks and bites in his wake.

you want to blame yourself for letting it get here, for kissing him in the first place but you just can’t. you can’t find it in you to blame carmy either. subconsciously you knew this was going to happen, it happens all the time.

you had originally called him over to make boundaries with your situation if this wasn’t official. you were done being a backup plan. you wanted to be respected and tonight you going to let carmy know that. the speech you had planned completely went out the window as soon as you heard the knock on your door.

———

the next morning you wake up to shuffling on the other side of you. you turn over not sure what to expect but the sight still makes your heart wrench.

carmy pulling his shirt over his head. his jeans already buttoned and adjusted. he turns back to the bed and sees you staring at the sight of him.

“i, uh, i gotta go.” he murmurs

“yeah?”

he nods, “i’m the only person with the keys.”

you knew that was a lie, he’s given keys to both sydney and richie to open and close the bear.

you nod anyways and have to look away as you feel your eyes start to water.

carmy places a kiss on your forehead before he says good-bye and promising to see you later.

#x reader #angst #carmy the bear #carmy x you #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #the bear #marie writes✨ #carmy berzatto x reader

[catonthesideoftheroad]

got a new carmy berzatto fic coming at 12:30 😁

#x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #the bear #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #marie writes✨

[catonthesideoftheroad]

the ending omfg praying for nat 🫣

Basic Training XIII (Peter Parker x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, MURDER, violence, kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​ | divider by @whimsicalrogers​

➥ series masterlist

summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.

Keep reading

[catonthesideoftheroad]

guess who was at kc night 1 for taylor swift 🫣

#speak now taylor’s version #taylor swift #taylor lautner #eras tour #i literally saw taylor lautner do a back flip #and we got never grow up as a surprise song

[catonthesideoftheroad]

Basic Training IX (Peter Parker x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, MURDER, violence, kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​ | divider by @whimsicalrogers​

➥ series masterlist

summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.

Keep reading

[catonthesideoftheroad]

Basic Training VII (Peter Parker x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON acts, DUB-CON acts, MURDER, violence, kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​ | divider by @whimsicalrogers​

➥ series masterlist

summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.

Keep reading

[catonthesideoftheroad]

Basic Training VI (Peter Parker x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, MURDER, violence, kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​ | divider by @whimsicalrogers​

➥ series masterlist

summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.

Keep reading

[catonthesideoftheroad]

When The Party’s Over XXIV (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP, DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, forced pregnancy, mentions of chilbirth, breastfeeding, toxic relationship, violence, jealousy, stalking, underage drinking, drug use, manipulation, public sex, innocent reader, Heyward!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​ | divider by @silkholland​​

➥ series masterlist

summary: Manipulated into a secret relationship with Rafe Cameron, you’re finding it much easier said than done to do the right thing and walk away…especially when he refuses to let you.

Keep reading

[catonthesideoftheroad]

When The Party’s Over XXIII (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP, DOMESTIC VIOLENCE (alluded to), forced pregnancy, mentions of chilbirth, toxic relationship, violence, jealousy, stalking, underage drinking, drug use, manipulation, public sex, innocent reader, Heyward!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​ | divider by @silkholland​​

➥ series masterlist

summary: Manipulated into a secret relationship with Rafe Cameron, you’re finding it much easier said than done to do the right thing and walk away…especially when he refuses to let you.

Keep reading

[catonthesideoftheroad]

show me just how sorry you are (18+)

part 5 of poor baby

summary: Joel has some explaining to do, but he can't quite make sense of the situation, either.

word count: 6.5k

a/n: so incredibly sorry for how long this took me!! I was busy and then I hit a huge writer's block with this, but I ultimately loved writing Joel's pov. I wanted to play with the dynamic a bit with shades of sub!joel and dom!reader but nothing full on.

tags: explicit sexual content (18+), no outbreak, age gap (college graduate/late 40s), dirty talk, cheating kink, handjob, oral (f receiving), face riding, miscommunication cockblock, joel needs to learn how to just say how he feels

“Are you currently happy?”

The question took Joel by surprise; Bill wasn’t exactly the kind of guy who went around asking people questions about their emotions. And certainly not while he was only checking in to see how the tiling of his bathtub was going.

He figured it was some set up for a conversation he didn’t care to have, so he just kept working silently.

“Do you think your partner cares about you?”

He looked up from the sink to see Bill in the reflection of the mirror, standing in the hallway staring at a phone that Joel instantly recognized as his own.

He began to ask him where he got a hold of his phone, patting the front pocket on his work shirt, wondering when he had taken it out, but he was interrupted by another question from Bill.

“How would your lives be if you decide to separate?”

“Dammit, Bill, what are you doing?”

Finally, he looked up from the phone to meet Joel’s gaze.

“I just needed to borrow your phone real quick. Mind telling me why you’ve been looking up ‘questions they ask in marriage counseling?’”

Joel rolled his eyes, snatching the phone away from the other man.

“None of your business.”

“I know,” Bill muttered, watching Joel quickly exit out of the pages. “I have a pretty good idea why, but I just want you to tell me.”

Joel scoffed. “Everyone in the goddamned neighborhood knows, Bill. So that’s really not saying much.”

“No, I’m talking about what I found on the security cameras. I’m the only one who knows about that."

It felt like a punch to his gut. Caught. Again. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was that you decided to take him back to your house before anything actually happened.

“Might as well have googled, ‘how do I hide my child bride from my wife?’”

“Fuck you,” Joel muttered as he looked around for where security cameras might’ve been hiding. “She’s very much an adult.”

Bill shrugged. “Thank you for leaving our house before you did anything, at least.”

“Welcome.”

There was a long silence, but Bill didn’t leave. He didn’t say anything, either. Just stared at Joel with that terrifyingly imposing gaze. Joel can’t say he was scared of him before, but he was starting to get a little worried.

“She cheated on me first, you know that. Our marriage was basically over the second she did that. Anything I’m doing is just…”

“A consolation prize?”

Joel practically recoiled at the suggestion. He had never thought of you like that, like some cheap substitute for a happy marriage, or some bit of payback against his wife.

In his mind, you existed in a completely different realm from all that. And it was nice when he was able to hide away with you in that space, pretend like things were different for him.

Unfortunately, the weight of reality was constantly threatening to tear him apart. And Bill was just another reminder of that.

He didn’t give Joel time to think any more before he continued.

“How long has this little thing been going on then?”

Joel let out a sigh. He knew he didn’t have to answer all of these questions, but he realized it might be helpful to actually have someone to talk to about all of this. He would have preferred Frank, who always seemed like a much better consult in matters of the heart. Bill was more the person you came to when you had questions about wildlife traps or the JFK assassination.

“The last game night.”

Bill cringed. “You were horny at game night?”

Joel looked to his boots awkwardly, feeling like a teenager who got caught looking at a dirty magazine.

“Who made the first move?”

“Well, it was her… technically, I think. It’s complicated.”

Bill waited.

“Look, I’m not going to tell you any more about that. She very clearly consented to the situation. Just… take my word for it.”

Bill’s face took on another grimace at Joel’s words.

“Why don’t you just end things with Ashley? Clearly you don’t need counseling you just need a couple good attorneys.”

“Counseling was her idea. I just went along with it to appease her so she wouldn’t keep snooping.”

“Snooping? She knows about you two?”

“Christ, no,” Joel scoffed. “She knows there’s someone, but she doesn’t know exactly who.”

Bill nodded slowly, face still blank. Joel realized that he would have been a good interrogator.

“If I’m being honest, I assumed she didn’t care about our marriage anymore, that she wouldn’t care if she found out I was fooling around with another woman.”

“But?”

“She freaked out completely. I can’t even imagine how she’d have reacted if she knew whose panties they were.”

His brow furrowed. “Panties?”

 Joel realized he maybe said too much. “Long story,” he mumbled, knowing that it wasn’t exactly an issue of story length.

Bill just made another uncomfortable face and muttered, “I hope my midlife crisis is better than yours.”

He wanted to clarify that you weren’t a midlife crisis to him, but he figured he might as well save his breath. Bill was clearly not the ideal person to have to confide in, but Joel still found it helpful to say any of these things out loud.

“Did you tell Frank?”

“He’s awful at keeping secrets. He’d probably blurt it out at the next game night, with your luck.”

Joel sighed. “Can’t go to another one of those for a while, I think.”

“You sure?” Bill began with something of a smirk. “The Reynolds’ girl is coming home soon from grad school. Could take a shot at her next?”

“Fuck off,” Joel muttered, unable to smile a little at Bill’s rare attempt at humor. He turned back around and continued his work, hoping to signify that the conversation was over for now.

Bill didn’t leave, though.

“Don’t break her heart.”

Joel looked back into the mirror to meet his gaze. “Or you’ll kill me?”

He shrugged. “Homicide’s too messy, but I’ve got a few ideas.”

Joel felt nothing but dread as he pulled into his driveway. He took a moment to look in the rearview mirror, your house just in sight. He couldn’t see into the little window of your room, but he made sure to keep his eyes on it.

Just in case, he told himself. Just in case you somehow knew he was watching and decided to stick your hand out and wave, like a message from the universe.

There was no message, though. The window remained shut, and there didn’t seem to be any movement inside.

Maybe no message is a message, he considered as he walked inside.

To his surprise, it was silent, and he wondered if Ashley and Sarah were both out.

“I’m home,” he began to call out as he kicked off his work boots, but it ended up being a statement to no one.

Joel ignored the fact that he needed to change out of his work clothes and instead fell to the sofa, nuzzling his head into the soft padding.

He thought about you. He didn’t know whether to reach for his cock or his phone.

Both options seemed too depressing for him to act on.

You hadn’t responded to any of his message for three days. He did his best to control himself, to not bombard you with ‘good morning’s and ‘sleep well’s and “hey, is everything alright?’s.

The last time he saw you was when you were standing just across the room in some distractingly sleazy dress, chatting up his wife about clothing brands before being dragged off to some party by his daughter.

He wanted desperately to know what had happened that night. Something had to have happened, right? That’s why you weren’t answering any of his messages.

Joel wasn’t exactly an organized thinker, but over the years he had found a method to managing the racing thoughts of his anxiety. His mind was already going to consider every possibility, so he decided that he might as well try to be as rational as possible in spite of it.

The way he saw it, your silence meant one of three things.

One: You were spooked by his showing of intimacy that day, and you were deciding to end things without even a discussion on the matter.

Two: Sarah told you all about Ashley finding your panties in her closet, and you were playing things cool out of fear of being caught. Or you were mad that he didn’t tell you about it right after it happened.

Three: You had a great fucking time at that party and decided that you wanted to chase after men who weren’t married and old enough to be your father. Men you could have a real future with. While this was the possibility he feared the most, Joel remembered the way you acted earlier that day, the way you played into the intimacy of it just as much as he did.

Still, Joel couldn’t help but imagine you looking down to your phone and rolling your eyes every time a text from him came through. Maybe it was all a cruel joke; make him feel like a million bucks again just to rip it all away without even so much as a ‘goodbye.’

That was harder to imagine, though; you being so heartless.

He preferred to imagine you as he knew you, soft and sweet and a little out of your goddamned mind. He hadn’t been prepared for how much he missed you even after such a short period of time.

The last time he saw you was bad, but earlier that day hadn’t been. Joel couldn’t help but replay the memories in his mind. He had realized, somewhere between the shower and the bed where you had been laying waiting for him, how domestic the whole thing felt, like you were playing Husband and Wife.

As sad as it felt to admit it to himself, it was the most domesticity that Joel had felt in years.

He tried to push away those thoughts, all thoughts of Ashley. He may not be able to speak to you, but he could at least think about you, right?

The more he thought of you, though, the cloudier his head felt. He wondered if you had missed him in any way, despite your refusal to respond to any of his messages. More importantly, he wondered why he cared.

You were just an attractive woman who caught his attention by throwing herself at him for a couple weeks, Joel told himself. He was just sexually frustrated after over a year of having been too emotionally frustrated to fuck the one person he was “allowed” to fuck. You were just the one who was there.

Joel knew he was full of shit, though. The more he tried to convince himself of these things, the more he came to appreciate you and the odd place you had carved out for yourself in his life.

And, if he was being honest, Joel knew that, if it had just been a matter of finding a pretty woman willing to have sex with him, he would have picked any other woman than the one who not only was best friends with his daughter but also the daughter of his own friends.

 As he chastised himself for letting his lust cause him to risk the most important part of his life—his relationship with his daughter—he was reminded of what had gotten him so lustful in the first place. Your charismatic glow, your skilled methods of teasing, your seemingly endless supply of skimpy dresses.

He remembered the dress you wore when he last saw you, just a few feet away from where he was now. Although he hated to admit it, he was almost turned on by the memory of Ashley’s upset face as she watched you stand there beautifully in that tiny party dress. She had always had a tendency towards jealousy.

He imagined if he had just told her then and there that the panties she found belonged to you. He imagined walking over and pulling up your dress to show that you were wearing a matching pair. At least, in your fantasies you were.

Or, Joel considered, maybe you weren’t wearing anything at all under that dress. He would have to shake his head in feigned disappointment and apologize to Ashley on your behalf, explaining that you just have this funny little habit of leaving your panties in other people’s closets.

It was a crude and ridiculous fantasy, but Joel felt himself getting hard just at the thought of it. With all the stress of the past few days, he hadn’t had much time or energy for arousal.

He knew it was a risk to just touch himself in the living room, but, as he had seemed to be doing too much in the past few weeks, he let his impulses win and began to rub himself over his work pants.

Something had occurred to him as his mind raced with thoughts of you. Maybe he should approach you in a sexual way if he wanted to get your attention again. That’s how it all started between you two, after all. That seemed to be the language you were most accustomed to.

He grabbed his phone with his right hand while he considered what exactly he should send, how vulgar to make the message. The two of you had never actually done any dirty texting before, and he wasn’t exactly well-practiced in the art of it.

Hey. Just wanted to let you know that my cock is hard because of you.

He cringed at the message and decided he couldn’t send that. After a few more attempts, he realized that anything he wrote out felt extremely un-sexy. He remembered that the other day, after the last time you two had sex, you had mentioned something about sending pictures.

Joel hesitated, but he unzipped his pants and pulled his cock out, giving it a few strokes as he tried to position it in the most appealing way.

He couldn’t help but note to himself that he was too old for all of this as he took a photo with his phone. As he contemplated whether it was okay to send something like this to you, his thumb accidentally hit the ‘send’ button, and the decision was made for him.

He quickly added ‘thinking of you.’

There wasn’t enough time to feel anxious about the photo, because you called right away. Joel smiled at the sight of the incoming call, proud of himself for finding a way to get your attention.

“Hello?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

That prideful feeling quickly plunged into dread.

“W-what d’ya mean?”

He heard you scoff. “Just because I ignored you for a few days doesn’t mean you can just send me whatever the hell you want.”

“I was just-“

“Seriously, Joel,” you interrupted. “I expect this shit from guys my age but not from you.”

Everything went silent for a moment, and Joel feared you were getting ready to hang up.

“I’m sorry,” he quickly blurted out. “I thought it was something you might like.”

“So what,” you began, “you’re just sitting in your living room jerking off?”

Joel looked down to his forgotten erection. “Can we talk about everything? Why’re you ignoring me?”

There was more silence. He heard someone unlocking the front door, and he quickly shoved himself back in his pants.

But it was you who walked in, just in some pajama shorts in a t-shirt with an unreadable expression on your face. He was instantly relieved; you might have been mad at him, but at least you were going to give him a chance to explain himself.

Joel watched you end the call on your phone as you studied the scene, him splayed out on the couch with a bulge in his workpants. You didn’t greet him, but you did walk over to stand above him by the couch.

He began to get up, but you quickly motioned him to stop, to stay down.

“You must be pretty ashamed of yourself by how fast you put your dick away, huh?”

He stared up at you with a stunned expression. He began to explain that he was worried you were someone else when he heard the key in the lock, but you didn’t let him say much before interrupting.

“Get it out again.”

Joel felt like he was walking into a trap, but his arousal and his desire to get back on your good side made him like putty in your hands, and he quickly complied.

You didn’t look impressed, though; this was the first time he saw you stare at his cock with a look of disappointment. Joel was reminded of the embarrassment he felt when you first walked in on him masturbating in your bedroom.

He tried to say something but was again interrupted.

“I’m surprised; I would have thought your first assignment in marriage counseling was to actually fuck your own wife.”

“No, no,” Joel quickly replied, trying to get up. He began to explain himself, but, once again, you interrupted.

“Or have you not started yet? Just trying to get one last fuck out of the silly neighborhood slut before you go back to marital bliss with your wife?”

 Joel couldn’t believe how much his cock continued to ache while you talked to him like this, and he felt like he was learning something new about himself that he hadn’t expected.

“There’s not gonna be any counseling. It’s over. You knew that.”

He thought he saw your face soften even just a little at the words. He could tell you still weren’t happy with him, though, as he watched you cross your arms over your chest and let out a sigh.

“I just needed to calm her down that night.”

He watched your face closely, wondering what the hell was going on inside that head of yours. For the first time since you stormed in, he was able to appreciate how beautiful you looked, just in your pajamas with no makeup on, even with the stress that was all over your face.

Joel felt awful thinking that it was him who had caused you that stress, but he also couldn’t believe that all of this was started just because you were mad at the idea of him going to marriage counseling with Ashley. You made it clear that you wanted him to leave her, but this anger felt beyond just that. It was like you had felt betrayed by him.

He hoped his admission was enough for you to forgive him. You nodded for a moment, like you were making your mind up about something. When you finally spoke, your tone was indiscernible, somewhere between sincerity and condescending mockery.

“It must’ve bothered you the other night,” you muttered, shaking your head. “You were stuck here in trouble with your wife while I was out partying with all those guys. Guys who wanted to fuck me.”

Joel stared up at you, slack-jawed. Now he was the jealous one, imagining you partying with some sleazy guys, dancing with their hands all over you. He felt strangely possessive, even though he knew he had no right to.

“Guys without wives, you know.”

Your words came out small and reluctant, as though you didn’t want to say them at all. He knew you said that to hurt him, but the lack of conviction in your voice gave him hope. Just as he thought: cruelty didn’t come naturally to you.

Joel could play along with your game, though. Better to let you get your anger out now, he decided. And he couldn’t deny, not without a little shame, that the dynamic was still turning him on.

“And did you?” He asked, eyes locked on yours.

There was a hint of a smile on your face, and Joel’s stomach sank for a moment as he wondered if you were actually going to answer yes.

“Did I what?” Your tone was still angry but bordering on playful.

“Did you let them fuck you?”

“Maybe I did,”  you said. “Did you fuck your wife recently?”

Joel clenched his jaw, gripping the sides of the sofa. “Maybe I did.”

He watched your gaze darken, and he wondered if he should just revert back to groveling. Maybe if he acted as pathetic as he felt, you would feel enough pity to forget that any of this ever happened.

Something occurred to him, though, as he looked up at you.

“I thought you said you wanted me to be in control, to use you as I pleased,” Joel said, pushing himself up to his elbows on the couch. “You practically begged for it.”

He watched you ball up your fists, face full of frustration. You brought your hands to Joel’s chest, pushing him back on the couch as you sat down beside him.

“You wanna know why I did that?”

You did something Joel wasn’t expecting at all. You grabbed his cock, wrapping your fingers around him. You spat directly on it before beginning to stroke. He couldn’t stop himself from bucking his hips up into your grasp, holding back a groan at finally being touched properly by you.

“I felt sorry for you, Joel. Trapped in a marriage with a wife who didn’t even respect you enough to hide her affair from you, so desperate for a little pussy that you’d resort to sniffing the neighbor’s daughter’s panties on game night. I bet you convinced her to go with you to that just so you could find a way to get into my room.”

Joel didn’t know how to process what was happening anymore, lost in his confusion and his desire at the same time.

“That’s right, isn’t it?”

Joel couldn’t believe he was getting off on this, letting out a soft moan, pinching his eyes shut as he focused on not showing how turned on he was.

“Yes,” he finally choked out. “I wanted to see you, to find a way in your room.”

He watched a small smile form on your face as you stopped stroking the shaft to pay attention to the head.

“You know that everything you were saying about control was bullshit, right? This was my game from the start, and I did it for you, so don’t be so fucking ungrateful.”

Joel nodded, his body moving along with your hand.

“So say you’re sorry,” you said, removing your hand from him completely.

The whimper Joel let out filed him with deep embarrassment, but the desperate movements his hips continued to make as his cock fell back down against his stomach were even more humiliating.

He realized you weren’t going to let him come until he apologized to you. He was already so far gone, he would have said damn near anything to get your hand back on him.

“Sorry,” he choked out, trying not to let it come out completely as a whimper. “I’m sorry, sweetie.”

Finally, the look on your face changed, and he saw a hint of that awe and admiration that was usually on your face when you looked at him. You spat into your hand before grabbing his cock again, twisting your wrist as you moved up and down.

“Good job,” you whispered to him, like it was a secret that existed beyond the lines of the little scene you were playing out.

“And of course I didn’t fuck her,” he added, shamelessly meeting your hand with thrusts of his hips. “Couldn’t even dream of it after having you.”

“I know,” you purred, that condescending tone still present as you leaned in and gave him a kiss on his temple. “And I couldn’t’ve fucked one of those boys after having you.”

Joel grinned a little as he continued to fuck your hand.

“Not when I knew how desperate you are for me. To have me all to yourself.”

He nodded, letting all of his dignity go out the window. “Always desperate for you.”

All of a sudden, your hand was off him again, and he moaned at the loss of your touch. He stared at you with wide eyes, wondering if he did something wrong. You were quick, though, as you pulled down your pajama shorts and panties at the same time. Joel gazed hungrily at your crotch, happy to see it glistening with your wetness.

“Wanna show me just how desperate you are?”

Joel nodded, watching you climb up on the sofa cushion that his head rested on, and he realized what your plan was. He stretched out his hands to grab the outer sides of both of your thighs, helping to maneuver your body over his face.

He couldn’t deny that it was a gorgeous view.

“Perfect fuckin’ pussy,” he muttered as you tested out the limits of this new position. He wondered for a moment if you had ever done this with anyone else, but he couldn’t focus on the thought for too long.

“Ride my face, sweetie,” Joel said as he lapped at your cunt from above. “’m desperate to make you feel good.”

You seemed hesitant to settle down fully on him, so he moved his hands to the tops of your thighs and pulled you down, indicating that he could handle it. He wanted to tell you that it’s not like you were going to suffocate him, and, even if you somehow did, it would be his honor to die like this.

But he was far too busy licking you in a hurried frenzy, paying careful attention to your clit. Even when he moved down to your folds, he could feel his prominent nose rubbing up against your clit.  You made no attempts to hide your pleasure, grinding down on his face and moaning like a whore above him.

Joel thought he had imagined almost every position with you in one fantasy or another, but he had somehow forgotten this one. He was beyond happy that you forced him to be reminded.

He couldn’t help himself anymore. He moved his hand from your thigh down to his weeping cock, which had been aching for release for far too long.

“Tastes so good,” Joel muttered from underneath you as he began stroking himself. “Driving me fuckin’ crazy.”

He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. He had already been so close to release when you first let go of him to climb on top of his face, and the new sensations were only spurring him on.

“You like this pussy?”

Joel groaned into you; he loved hearing you say such filthy things.

You accepted that as your answer, continuing. “This pussy is all yours, Joel, as long as you’re good for me.”

“I’ll be good,” Joel whimpered, his voice partially stifled by your cunt against his mouth.

Your rutting against his face increased in speed, and he knew you were close, too. Just the thought of you getting off on top of him like this was enough to finally send him over the edge. For a moment, he stopped his frantic sucking and licking as his orgasm enveloped him completely, rendering him unable to focus on anything but the searing hot white pleasure and the feeling of his come hitting his stomach.

Above him, he heard you say something he couldn’t register, then a string of expletives as you continued to moan. Joel did his best to refocus whatever energy he had left in sucking at your clit, helping you to get the most out of your own orgasm above him.

Once your hips stopped bucking and you stopped letting out heavy moans, he knew it was time to stop his work. He did his best to support your body as you tried to catch your breath above him.

He wouldn’t have minded if he stayed there a little longer, using his face as a chair. But you were quick to dismount, careful not to spread your copious amount of wetness over the sofa. You hurriedly reached for your shorts and got dressed.

“Don’t forget your panties this time,” Joel mumbled as he watched you look back at him with an unimpressed look.

He couldn’t help himself; Joel broke out into laughter, and it wasn’t long before you were laughing along with him.

“Stop making me laugh!” You exclaimed. “I’m still mad at you!”

For the first time, Joel felt like he finally understood the dynamic that existed between you two. You would let him degrade you as much as he wanted in the bedroom, but you drew the line when it came to actions that made you feel degraded in real life. Even in your attempt to get back at him, to reassert your own sense of control and dominance, you gave him everything he wanted. Things he didn’t even know he wanted.

He was in awe of you.

“Even after I made you come all over my face?”

You grinned, and he couldn’t tell if your cheeks were red from your orgasm or if they were getting redder from a returned sense of bashfulness.

Neither of you said anything while you got up and grabbed some paper towel to clean up Joel’s come from his stomach. He tucked himself back in pants and finally got up from the couch.

You were watching him with wide eyes.

“What?”

You smiled, letting out a little laugh. “Might wanna wash your face, too.”

He realized he was covered in your slick wetness, and he smiled as he headed into the kitchen, splashing water on his face. “Seems a damn waste,” he muttered as he patted himself dry.

Finally, he joined you back on the sofa, where you sat with a blank look on your face. You must have lit a candle in his absence, something fruit scented and bright. You both sat in silence for a minute longer.

“You know I don’t think of you that way, right?”

You looked over at him with a furrowed brow.

“How did you word it… the silly neighborhood slut?” Joel let out a deep sigh, feeling the weight of the past few days finally get a little less heavy. “I was gonna tell you about Ash finding your underwear in her closet, but I didn’t wanna freak you out until I calmed her down, and then you weren’t responding to any of my messages all of a sudden.”

You nodded, as though Joel was just confirming what you already knew deep down.

“I just needed to get your attention. I didn’t mean for the picture to be disrespectful. I… I really respect you.”

“I know,” you whispered. Your face stayed stern, though, as you continued.

“Do you have any idea what I’m risking every time I keep this going, Joel? Sarah was my first friend here, and she was my only friend for a long time. You have no idea what her friendship means to me.”

Joel listened carefully, staring at you as you spoke.

“If your vindicative wife is snooping around trying to find out who’s fucking her husband, you need to tell me.”

He nodded, trying to find the right words to say.

“And yes,” you said with a smirk, looking around the living room. “The irony of saying that after what we just did here out in the open is not lost on me.”

Joel chuckled. “I guess we both lose our sense a little when it comes to each other, huh?”

“Afraid so,” you mumbled, leaning into his body slightly.

Joel wasted no time in wrapping his arm around your body and pulling you close against him, kissing you on the top of your head.

“Seriously, though, Joel. You can’t keep things from me. We’re in this together. Whatever this is.”

He hummed gently against the top of your hair.

“These last few days were terrible, sweetie.”

You looked up to him, meeting his eyes. He realized how tired you looked. “I know. What’re we gonna do with ourselves when this all over?”

What do you mean, ‘when this is all over?’

Joel was trying to find the courage to ask the question when the sound of a car door slamming outside jerked you both back to reality. You quickly pulled away from one another, and you jumped up from the couch just in time.

The front door opened, and Sarah walked in, stopping in her tracks the second she looked into the living room to find you and her father. She made a confused face.

“Hey, perfect timing,” Joel began, putting on a big smile as he glanced from Sarah to you. “Look who just came over to see you.”

You said hello, too, and Sarah smiled at you with an expression that Joel understood to mean, ‘sorry that you had to spend even a second alone with my dorky dad.’

“Good thing I got an extra burger,” Sarah mumbled, waving a fast-food bag stained with grease. “Was supposed to be for Mom, but she said she’s uh… caught up at work.”

Joel’s gaze immediately fell to the ground at the words ‘caught up at work.’ Everyone in the room knew what those words meant, and he couldn’t bring himself to be angry at it anymore.

Sarah looked upset, and Joel couldn’t figure out whether it was with him or her mother, and he didn’t know exactly how to broach the subject. He wasn’t used to being in a bad place with Sarah; they almost always got along, and Sarah had been unusually mature since her pre-teen years.

You looked from Sarah and back to Joel with wide eyes. “I actually, uh, just came by to grab those earrings. You said you finally found them?”

Sarah looked confused for a moment, and then she nodded. “Oh, yeah. They were under a jacket.”

Joel watched you cross the room to get closer to Sarah, overhearing her ask, with a big smirk, “Why do you need them? Hot date with You-Know-Who?”

You rolled your eyes at her, giving a little scoff. “Please. I prefer men more mature than Jason’s little friend.”

Sarah let out a laugh. “Mature? Hey, Dad, got anyone you can set her up with?”

Joel tried not to grimace at the conversation.

“How do you feel about divorcees,” he mumbled, meeting your gaze just for a moment. You narrowed your eyes at him when Sarah wasn’t looking, and he wanted to laugh.

“Sexy.”

“Jesus,” Sarah said through a giggle. “See, Dad, there’s hope for you after all!”

She headed up the stairs to her bedroom before Joel could say anything else, with you following closely behind.

There was a sinking feeling in Joel’s chest as he considered Sarah’s comment. His first instinct was to see it as a dig against him, an insult to punish him for his flippant comment earlier that week about the panties. Maybe she knew he wasn’t going to go to counseling, too.

He considered what you had said, though, about how Sarah didn’t need them to stay together if they were miserable. You knew Sarah in a different way than he did, a way that wasn’t mucked up by the baggage of over twenty years of familial love. It only made sense to give deference to your opinion.

As the minutes passed by, he heard the sound of music beginning to play, and he realized you guys weren’t coming down any time soon. He leaned back against the sofa cushion and let out a sigh, trying to make sense of everything that had happened in the last few hours.

He had every intention to get up and grab one of the burgers Sarah had left him on the countertop, but his mental and physical exhaustion won, and he before he knew it he was drifting off to sleep

It was a few hours later that he woke up to Sarah shaking his shoulders. “Dad,” she was repeating. “You okay?”

He jerked awake, pushing himself off the sofa. “Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled, rubbing his face as he tried to adjust back to the world. “Musta dozed off.”

Sarah smiled, rolling her eyes. “It’s nearly midnight, Dad.”

“Shit,” he grumbled, feeling a surge of pain in his back. “Why’d you let me fall asleep so long?”

She shrugged. “I had a guest. We had a lot to catch up on.”

Joel narrowed his eyes at her. “Important topics like Jackson?”

“Jason,” Sarah corrected with a cocked eyebrow.

He shared a smile with his daughter before letting out a yawn.

“Actually,” she began, her smiling disappearing. “We talked about you.”

Joel felt his skin crawl and he wondered if his heart had stopped beating completely.

“About me?”

 She nodded. “Yeah, you and Mom. How you’re both crazy.”

A wave of relief overcame him as he realized what you meant.

“Sarah,” he began, trying to find the courage to face her. “We, uh, we also need to talk about what’s going on.”

“I know what ‘caught up at work’ means,” Sarah replied. “She’s still not home.”

Joel wondered what exactly his wife was doing tonight, after making a big proclamation about never sleeping with that man again. Maybe she really was just working late, but something told him that she just had poor self-control.

“Things have just really fallen off the rails, and, well, you know, that’s a part of life and, well I know it’s not fair to you, but”

Sarah interrupted. “You don’t need to do the whole song and dance for me, Dad. I’m not a little girl anymore.”

Joel let out an aggravated sigh, falling back into the cushion of the couch with his hands over his face. “Sarah, baby, I just have no idea what to say. This whole situation is just so fucked.”

Sarah let out a laugh. “That’s an understatement.”

She settled back into the cushion, too, face close to Joel’s. She gently pulled his hands away and let them fall to his lap. They shared a moment of silence together, and Sarah gave him a small smile.

“It’s gonna be okay, dad. I’m gonna be okay.”

Joel felt like he could cry looking at her.

“I just don’t know why you had to make all this so complicated. I know divorce is scary and messy, but…”

Sarah looked close to tears, too.

“You deserve to find someone who makes you happy, don’t you?”

Hearing those words from her meant more to him than he could explain. “What if you don’t like who I end up with next?”

She scoffed. “As long as she learns how to keep track of her panties.”

a/n: I fought so hard with myself throughout this, and I think I'm finally happy with what I ended up with. I hope it reaches you right

tag list (I love u guys) (I hope I got you all down right):

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[catonthesideoftheroad]

better than him.

pairings. matt sturniolo x fem!reader

about. matt is envious of chris for something that was his before chris’.

warnings. foul language probably

ricky is typing… i finally caved and decided to write for my best boy. for my usual viewers, i apologize 😋.

"you deserve better than him... you know that right?"

his voice haunts you.

you let his words sink in while the silence soaks the both of you and your eyes stay closely trained on the cracks in the sidewalk and what you could make out of it.

it's midnight, close to it and there you were, once again left on the front lawn of chris’ house with no chris.

“he even knows it.”

matt’s words strike your heart cold and you hate how it’s him telling you this. you were sure everyone knew it, but everyone always had the curtesy to not say anything, because in the end it didn’t matter. as much as chris was a bad boyfriend at times, he always made up for it. most times.

this however, was not the time.

“want to come inside?”

“no, it’s fine,” you finally moved, facing him. “i’m just going to go home. i need sleep.”

“okay,” he nods his head, pulling his eyes from yours as he seemed more timid now that you were actually looking at him. “need a ride?”

“i drove.”

“oh,” he sounds sad, “right.”

he coughs, it is so awkward, for no reason, and matt knows it’s because of him. he should have just left you out here by yourself like always and just let you go on your own time, like always, but watching you made his heart ache.

“you sure you don’t want to come inside, y/n/n?” he narrowed his vision on you, trying to make it seem like he didn’t really care, but failing. “just for water or..?”

there’s a longing in his voice, like he needed it more than you did.

your eyes hit the sidewalk again, wincing, causing a crinkle in your eye as you think. there was no harm. absolutely no harm, and yet you hesitated, clutching the back of your neck and digging your nails into your skin in desperation for relief of the stress. stress of answering.

“yeah, why not matty,” you gave in, dropping your hand from your neck and taking the first step toward the home easily, like this was the way you would have headed even if you hadn’t said yes. like this is where you wanted to go and to be all along.

he nodded, trying to hide his smile before walking into his house, not waiting for you.

he knew you’d come.

matt had known you since forever. way before chris, way before nick, way before anyone. and he took pride in that.

he was the reason chris knew you. he forever regretted that day where he introduced you to his triplet, posing you on a stool for the taking. he placed you like a treat on chris’ nose and he ate you up like a dog as fast as he could, with no care.

“i’m surprised your parents keep letting you out of your house this late.”

you sighed, following him into the home, placing your keys on the kitchen counter and slowly mentally undoing yourself, “me too.”

“they know he treats you like this?”

oh, you hate that question.

you’re not sure how to answer it, even as you both know very well what the answer is.

“let’s not do this, matt,” you bit the inside of your cheek.

the two of you have slowed, you’re posed in the doorway of the living room while he’s in the midst of sitting down, but stops himself, looking at you, really looking at you.

matt liked you, a lot.

“okay,” he nodded, slowly. “i’m sorry.”

like a lot, a lot.

“it’s alright.”

to the point he can barely look you in the face. especially now, after all that has happened.

“i just didn’t come in to talk about him. i came in for you.”

he swallows.

fuck.

really, really, really liked you.

“okay,” he finally sits down. “i’d offer my room, but nick would wake up to the sound of us sitting down and he’d be down my throat immediately.”

“no, it’s fine,” you smiled softly, keeping your position leaned against the framing. “i’m not picky.”

“yeah, you’ve always said that,” he scoffed, “yet you’re the pickiest person i’ve met.”

“not true,” you say fast, wanting to trudge across the five feet between you just to lightly hit him. “you were always the who couldn’t make up their mind on things.”

“picky and indecisive are two different things, y/n/n-“

“and yet, both equally a headache to deal with.”

both your heads jerked to see nick in all his midnight glory emerging from around the corner. if it wasn’t his tone of voice to clue you onto his annoyance, his evening attire was enough to clue you into him not wanting to be up at this hour.

“hey, y/n,” he passes you, lightly patting your arm as you stare at his feet and the slippers that covered them.

you hold back your laugh, “hey, nicky.”

“left in the dust, again?”

“oh, you know so well.”

“wouldn’t be the first time someone’s told me that,” he shuffles around behind you, filling a glass with water. “you two are loud as fuck. please shut the fuck up or like… go talk in the guest bedroom.”

“nick, we just got here,” matt leans on his knees, “you’re being a baby.”

nick is quick to dip his head to the side, an offended look on his face that he’d hope matt would challenge, “excuse me?”

you bite down your smile fast, looking to matt who doesn’t bother hiding his, “okay,” he stands, “okay, okay,” he raises his hands in defeat, but the smile on his face keeps pushing up on his cheeks. “we’ll just go in the guest bedroom.”

“yeah. you will,” nick shakes his head, taking a sip of his water.

the high attitude makes you want to laugh, but you don’t press it. nick was one of the moodiest people you had ever met, and as funny as it was, he was also ruthless and didn’t care for hurting someone’s feelings.

you push off the wall, walking toward the guest bedroom that was right down the hall with matt behind you till nick calls out again.

“matt, can i talk to you?”

you both stop, glancing at the boy who no longer seems to be in his heightened attitude.

“yeah?”

he looks concerned.

“outside?”

you suddenly feel the attention on you, even as neither of them were looking at you. but the tension of nicks stare on matt was undeniably because of you. you could tell.

matt’s eyes meet with yours, as if asking if it were okay, and you nod slowly, then watching them slowly go.

“what’re you doing, man?” the front door had just barely shut and nick was already airing it out. ��c’mon matt, you can’t do this.”

“do what?”

“matt,” nick gives him the hardest stare he had ever seen, but it wasn’t harsh. the stare was instead knowing, and almost sympathetic. “what do you think chris would do.”

“chris isn’t here.”

“yeah, i know. he never fucking is half the time, but come on matt. it’s not right.”

“what am i supposed to do?” matt feels a sudden burst of frustration as his arm extends out in expression. “y/n’s my best friend. she was mine before she was chris’. you think he thought about what was right before he kissed her, before he asked her out?”

nick stares at him in silence. the remorse leaks from his eyes and matt can barely stand the look, but he can’t force himself to look away.

“chris doesn’t care, so why should i?”

“because you’re better than him.”

the words hurt even as they should be taken as a compliment. matt should’ve known better. matt was kind, and genuine, and he could never act on his bad intentions even if he wanted to because he knew better.

“yo, what’re you two fuckers doing?”

matt and nick break their held stare upon the loud call out from chris who was suddenly trekking across the front lawn. nick looked to him, while matt kept his eyes planted on the cement of their front porch.

“is y/n here? her car’s parked across the street,” chris places his hands on both their shoulders, his usual cocky perma smile planted on his lips.

“yeah, she’s inside,” nick nodded toward the door.

he nods, but his smile becomes pressed into a half frown, looking between them both.

“what’s wrong with you two?” he narrows his eyes on the both of them, catching onto the awkward silence still holding over them and matt’s lack in attempt to look at him. “you both good?”

“yeah, we’re fine. it’s just been a long night,” nick leans away from the hold chris has on him, rubbing his eyes as if proving his exhaustion. “go talk to y/n.”

he doesn’t believe it.

“matt?”

“yeah.”

“you okay, matty?”

“i’m great, chris,” he inhales through his nose sharply, finally looking up to him as if reassuring him. “y/n’s in the guest room.”

matt’s voice is strictly monotoned, ridding any reassurance he was trying to put out. a strange look crosses chris’ face at the short and dry answer and he’s beyond confused now. he studies his brothers face, to which matt can barely look right back anymore.

“okay…” he glances at nick, “i’ll talk to you two later. unless you want to bring this party inside?”

“we’ll catch you in a minute.”

he goes.

“nice one.”

“yeah, fuck you.”

nick let’s it slide off his shoulder, only looking at him with sympathy, “matt, what’re you gonna do?”

“i don’t know,” he sighs, scratching the back of his head. “same thing i’ve always done. be the better person and get over it.”

[catonthesideoftheroad]

“my god, I hope it’s in me” KENDALL!! THE CYCLE KENDALL!!

[catonthesideoftheroad]

𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭

¬ another lil moment with carm (gif credit: @emziess)

¬ warning(s): language, fluff; this work is 18+. minors dni.

¬ wc: 0.3k

Watching Carmen in the kitchen is alike nothing else.

He moves effortlessly as he works, his years of experience in the culinary world making it seem as if he could do this in his sleep.

“Okay, try this one, please?”

Camry’s heart warms at the way your eyes light up when you jump off the counter.

“What is it?” you ask him as you walk over, mouth already watering at the smell.

He spoons a bit of sauce gently out of the pan and holds his hand under it to make sure he doesn’t spill anything. Sweeps would kill him for dirtying the floor after hours.

“It’s a surprise, just try it. Please.”

Carmen watches silently as you wrap your lips around the spoon, taking in the sauce he’s been trying to perfect for the last week. “Good?”

It takes you a second to get past the beautiful bursting flavors on your tongue and answer him.

“Fuck, Carmy. That’s amazing,” you breathe out quietly.

“Yeah?” he reassures and you nod your head immediately.

“Yes, Carmen. It’s really, really good.”

Carmen doesn’t mean to let himself smile so much, but oh well. He goes back to his pan without noticing that you’re still staring.

“Hey, Carm?”

“Yes, chef?”

“How come you asked me to come here tonight instead of Syd? or Richie?”

Carmen doesn’t stop working when he answers you.

“Well, first of all, fuck Richie,” Carmen begins and you both have to laugh. “Uh, but no, seriously, I don’t know. Just wanted a different perspective I guess. And I like hangin out with you, so I figured why not, ya know?”

“You like hanging out with me?” you repeat with a knowing grin. Carmen freezes.

“Um, yeah. Yes, I like hanging out with you… that’s not weird is it?”

You don’t take any time to shake your head. “Course not, Carmy. I like hanging out with you, too.”

Carmen finally looks at you, unable to hide the blush that blossoms across his face. Before he knows what he’s doing, his knife-calloused hand reaches over and squeezes your arm.

Both of your stomachs flutter when he presses a kiss on your forehead.

“Good. I’m glad,” Carmen nods before diligently returning to his work like nothing ever happened.

© 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐚 - send me more carmy concepts! &lt;3