#syd writes stuff

[weneverfreeze]

every battle-earned bruise

Elbows deep in sudsy water, scrubbing plates with his eyes kept safe on the sponge in his hand, Bucky too close to his shoulder and all the farther for it. Steve hands him a plate. Their fingers don’t touch. 

There’s a dance to this. Something careful, measured; he feels Bucky’s eyes resting directly on the corner of his jaw, then slip to his neck, then drop down his forearms. If Steve looked back he’d probably see Bucky staring at the corner like he hadn’t been watching. 

His gaze flits around the room quick as anything these days. There was a time when he’d spend hours looking at the clouds from the fire escape. Now he’s looking, always looking, always assessing threats and risks and exit plans. Steve still isn’t sure which category these particular examinations fall under. 

In the space between them, Steve asks, “You remember that time in the alley, after Peterson punched my lights out?” His voice is quiet, quiet. There is a fragility to this rhythm that could break as easily as a dropped plate. 

Bucky shifts his weight. “I remember.”

A shouting match, a sharp, radiating pain that just wouldn’t quit, not for days and days after. Bucky’s soft swear and flitting hands. Steve hands him a glass and asks, “How much of that do you remember?”

Steve risks a glance up and in their reflection in the window, Bucky meets his eyes. And back then Bucky had cursed him up and down with a damn you, damn you, why do you do this and his fingers on Steve’s jaw and Steve had spat blood out of his mouth and said, far more pathetic than he’d wanted, Steve had wiped his chin and said, I like your hands on me like that. 

They hadn’t talked about it afterwards. The draft and the war and the Howlies, the serums in both of their veins running counter to one another back then and even still now, history weighing so heavy on both their shoulders, eyes that once focused on clouds trained to focus through sniper scopes. Memory is a fraught thing. They haven’t yet cleared all the landmines stretching between them. 

Bucky sets the glass down. Steve holds his breath, stays still as Bucky’s fingertip outlines the memory of a scar on his jaw. Then Bucky’s thumb dips, resting on Steve’s bottom lip as he frowns in concentration. His memory face, Sam calls it. He slightly tilts Steve’s face from left to right and back again like he’s remembering the blood and the bruises before leaning in and kissing him. 

Oh. It’s a breath of a kiss more than anything and he wasn’t — he’s too slow, he wasn’t expecting it; Steve kisses him back a second after Bucky pulls away, still studying him with that searching expression on his face. He catches a glimpse of his own wide eyes in the window and oh, he wasn’t expecting that. Oh, oh. 

“Is that right?” Bucky asks, thumb still on Steve’s lip. “Did I do that then? In the alley?”

Steve shakes his head. “No,” he says, and Bucky’s hand falls away. He clears his throat. “No, you never — never did that.”

Bucky shrugs. Picks up the dish towel. “Must’ve just wanted to then. It’s hard spotting the difference between memories and wishes.”

He’s far away again. Farther, because he was so close just a second ago. It’s like lowering your mouth to a mirror and breathing on it to see the condensation, that’s what that kiss was. Bucky was testing him out to see what’s left between before it faded. Wasn’t he?

“Bucky,” Steve says. 

And — Bucky catches his eyes in the window, looks away, turns and leans so he’s facing him. “We really never did that before?”

“I didn’t know you wanted to.”

“But you wanted to?” he asks. 

And Steve says, “Yes.” And he says, “I would’ve kissed you back then, if you’d kissed me first.”

Bucky’s gaze dips, finds the door, the empty space at Steve’s hip where he usually wears a gun, skim past his thigh before flicking back to Steve’s. Threats, risks, exit plans. “And now?”

“Now—” Steve’s breath catches. He dries his hands on the towel Bucky’s holding and says, “Yeah, Buck. I’d kiss you now.”

He leans in this time. This time, he brushes Bucky’s hair behind his ear, threads his fingers through to cradle the nape of his neck, leaves some space between their bodies in case Bucky wants it there. Slow movements. Steve isn’t sure which one of them he’s afraid of spooking off. He exhales as Bucky eases him closer by his belt loops and when they kiss, it’s gentle. It’s a dance he half-remembers the steps to, a routine learned in dreams in a Brooklyn apartment years ago. 

Bucky’s lips are soft. He wasn’t expecting that. He thinks a lot of things would’ve been different if he’d known this back then. 

Bucky moves away first. Steve is struck again by the normalcy of him here in his kitchen, standing next to counters Steve installed and drying dishes Steve picked out at random. He doesn’t look out of place anymore. He looks — pleased. Like he got away with something he thought he’d get nailed on for sure. And Steve knows. 

“You remembered, didn’t you?” he asks. He laughs a little; Bucky smiles a little. “You knew we hadn’t—”

“I’ve been wanting to,” Bucky says. “I know you’ve noticed me looking at you. Seemed like you’ve been wanting to, too. Do you still like it when I touch you like that?”

He thumbs Steve’s bottom lip as he asks it and Steve — well. Steve’s pinned by his touch. Something like anticipation whispers its way up his spine. 

“Yes,” he says. Bucky doesn’t move his hand; Steve says, “If we finish the dishes first, will you kiss me again?”

And oh, there — that ghost of a laugh. Those eyebrows pulled in for a challenge and those eyes bright with amusement, teasing the way they used to decades ago. Shoulders broader and his smile heavier too. Bucky Barnes in his kitchen. He’d do it all over again if this is where they ended up. Every battle-earned bruise brought him back to Bucky Barnes in his kitchen with a dish towel over his shoulder, waiting to finish the dishes so they can kiss again, closing the loop on a circle a hundred years in the making. Steve’s so in love he almost can’t bear it.

“Okay,” Bucky says simply, eyes alight, and their fingers brush as Steve hands him a plate. 

#stevebucky #syd writes stuff #I miss! them! #mcu

[mrdrwrites]

Pairings: Oliver Quick X !fem reader

Summary: Oliver is upset because something happened at uni so seeks you for comfort. later in the night things get heated

CW: NSFW!! kissing, bad language, fluff that turns to smut, sub!Oliver dom!reader, handjob, blowjob, 69, pussy eating, praise, ma’am kink, orgasm denial

WC: 2k

warning: i am dyslexic so don't expect all words to be spelled correctly, also i don't autocapitalise my words

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

‘Oliver honey i’m home,’ i yell into the seemingly empty house, ‘Oliver?’

i make my way into the kitchen, setting down the shopping bags on the counter. i hear a sniffle from the living room and walk towards the noise.

‘Oliver baby, are you okay?’ i can’t see him but the shaking blob under the blankets on our sofa tell me he is under there.

i sit next to him and slowly move my hand to take the blanket off of him.

‘go away please y/n,’ his voice is low, broken, i don’t like it at all.

‘what’s wrong baby?’ i ask, hand still on the blanket.

he sniffles again and when he makes no effort to move i pull the blanket off of him completely. there he is, my Oliver, knees bent to his chest, his eyes red and puffy. It broke my heart to see him quivering and sniffling like that. My sweet, sweet boy. So small and broken yet still so beautiful. the whites of his Hiscobalt blue eyes had turned bloodshot, his lip quivering slightly.

‘what is wrong Oliver?’ i ask again, a few more tears escape his eyes.

‘it’s nothin’ i’m bein’ silly,’ his accent is particularly thick when he begins to talk, little voice broken.

‘Oliver, it’s okay,’ i assure him, cupping his face in my hands, ‘you can tell me.’

‘at uni,’ his voice breaks, ‘i was tryin’ to get to class an’ someone tripped me. im okay but my glasses broke.’

‘awh, baby,’ my hand moves to his hair, ‘it’s okay, we can get you some new ones.’

he finally looks at me. his face is tear stained and it breaks my heart a little.

‘really?’ he wipes his nose on the back of his sleeve, ‘you think so?’ my heart breaks a little at the sight of the man in front of me.

‘of course, we can book an appointment at the opticians tomorrow, how’s that sound?’ he gives me a weak smile, eyes still glassy.

‘okay,’ he leans forward and gives me a big hug, ‘thank you y/n,’ he speaks into my hair.

he pulls back and i give him a kiss on the lips.

‘i feel so silly,’ he wipes his eyes free of tears and chuckles to himself a little.

‘don’t. it’s okay to cry in front of me, you know this,’ i assure him.

‘thank you y/n,’ he mumbles, ‘for everything.’

‘don’t thank me silly,’ i get up, and go into the kitchen.

i unpack all the shopping and find Oliver asleep on the sofa, a movie playing on the tv.

i walk over to him and shake his shoulder a little, the time that is displayed on the living room clock reads 9:03pm, ‘Oliver baby, wake up.’

he opens his eyes a little and squints a little, ‘im awake.’

‘you coming to bed?’ i ask.

‘mhm, you coming too?’ he replies, eyes shining in the light.

‘of course,’ i smile down at him.

i go to our shared bedroom and get in bed, Oliver comes in a moment later. he undresses and slides into bed beside me and pulls me into him so he is spooning me.

‘goodnight my love,’ he whispers into my neck.

‘goodnight,’ i sigh contently.

an hour or two must pass before i’m awoken, Oliver is still asleep, his short breaths coming out rigid against my neck. his hips are rutting against the curve of my ass, his dick hard. he’s having a wet dream. little whines are coming from his parted lips. i open my legs a little, moving so his dick is between my thighs. i close them slowly, clenching slightly. he’s still sleeping when his pace picks up, pulling me closer to his chest. he’s fucking my thighs at a good pace, whimpering into my neck, still sleeping. i move my hand down to where the head of his cock pokes out from between my thighs and lay it flat. every thrust forward his tip is pushed against my hand. he gets louder at this and speeds up. humping my thighs like a deprived animal. i smirk to myself. i can tell when he gets close by the urgency of his thrusts. before he can cum however, i move my hand and open my legs. with nothing to rut against he lets out a huff of air. i wonder what he is dreaming about.

‘Oliver,’ i drag my hand up his arm that is tight around my waist, ‘Oliver baby wake up,’ i push my ass against him.

he jolts awake, pulling away from me ever so slightly.

‘Oliver?’ i question into the darkness.

‘mhm,’ he responds, tiredness creeping into his voice.

‘you horny?’ i know he gets shy when i’m vulgar.

‘shh,’ he scolds, knew it.

‘want me to take care of you baby,’ the hand on his arm reaches between my legs to stroke his dick.

he winces, ‘please.’

my hand comes off of his dick and turns on the lamp at the side of our bed. i sit up and turn to look at Oliver, his eyes are tired but his dick is rigid and swollen with need.

‘lay on your back for me,’ i pull the blanket off the both of us.

he obeys instantly and lays his head back on the pillows.

‘good boy,’ my hand travels down his chest towards his thighs.

when i get close to his erection he bucks his hips up, so needy.

i tut, ‘that how much you need me?’ i give his right thigh a light slap.

his eyes are now clouded with something other than tiredness.

‘yeah, just please,’ he whines, bucking his hips up again, ‘touch me.’

‘beg,’ i state simply, sitting back, legs crossed.

his eyes meet mine, then rake down my body. they falter slightly at the sight of my hard nipples but continue down til he just stares at my increasingly soaking pussy.

‘Oliver,’ i warn, ‘my eyes are up here.’

his eyes shoot to my own, cock throbbing a little.

‘beg.’ i say once again, reaching for his dick but stopping just before i touch him.

‘please y/n, please touch me. fuck, i need you so bad. make me feel good. i promise ill be a good boy. just touch me,’ he shudders when my palm comes in contact with his leaking tip.

‘such a good boy, Oliver,’ i praise, finally wrapping my hand around his cock.

he closes his eyes, whines and whimpers leaving him when i begin stroking him at a slow pace, he needs more, i know this. i dont give him it though, i want him to be a writhing mess by the time im finished with him. he moves his hips up when i get to the head of his dick on the fifth stroke. when he does so i take my hand away.

his eyes shoot open, ‘why did you stop?’ his cock pulses once again.

‘you get what i give you. don’t take more. do you understand?’ i look expectantly at him.

he nods, ‘i understand.’

‘so if you understand that why do you still move your hips when i’m touching you. am i not good enough? would you rather go back to sleep with an aching cock? huh? would you rather have me pressed against you all night, so close to slipping into my pussy, but knowing you can’t?’ i’m teasing him.

‘no ma’am, you’re more than enough. i just need you so bad. please touch me again,’ a streak of precum makes its way down his dick, pooling at his pelvic area.

i take a finger and follow the trail of precum up to his tip. he moans, loud, and throws his head back.

i wrap my hand around his aching erection once more and begin stroking him a little faster than i was before. i pick up my pace when tears fall from his eyes but stop when i can feel him tighten under me, knowing he is about to cum.

i bring my hand completely away and wait for him to recover before speaking, ‘we’re going to play the fast and slow game, okay baby? you think you can do that for me?’

he nods, ‘yes y/n, i can do it.’

‘good boy,’ i praise, ‘let’s get started then, start slow.’

his hand slowly begins pumping his cock, i watch him making sure his pace doesn’t slow down nor quicken.

after a few moments i speak up, ‘a little faster baby,’ he obeys.

the head of his cock had turned an angry red shade now, needing release.

‘go as fast as you can sweetheart,’ his hand moves fast, almost inhumanely so.

i see his orgasm approaching, ‘stop,’ i tease, his hand stops and moves away from his cock.

‘you’re doing so well baby. you’re listening so good,’ he’s panting and his cock leaks some more with each praise.

he gets calmed down again, ‘start fast baby,’ he does so.

his strokes are messy, he needs release and he needs it soon.

‘you think you can slow down a little for me baby, and only work on the bottom half of your dick?’ i ask, a plan formulated in my head.

he nods breathlessly, moving his hand down so he is going at a medium pace on the base of his cock. i lean over and take the top of him in my mouth.

he hisses, ‘fuck y/n. i’m going to cum.’

i pull my mouth away and slap his hand from his cock.

‘i’m going to suck your cock, you’re going to eat my pussy. is that understood?’ i plant my dripping pussy right over his face.

‘yes ma’am,’ he replies obediently and i lower myself onto him.

he licks and sucks on my clit like a starved man, i grind myself into his face and lean forward, taking his strained dick in my mouth. i take him into my mouth and hum around him, he thrusts his cock deep into my throat but i don’t scold him. with the way he is devouring my pussy i don’t want to stop him. he moans against my clit, hands on my hips, digging into them. he’s holding me down, almost as if he didn’t id pull away. i’m still working on his cock when i cum on his tongue, a moan escapes my lips, sending vibrations down his cock. he’s still sucking and licking on my pussy, sending me into overdrive. i take him deep in my mouth one more time before his nails dig into my hips and he jerks forward one more time, emptying himself into my mouth. i swallow everything and give him a few more sucks before pulling away from his dick with a pop.

‘you did so good baby,’ i say, trying to lift up from his mouth, his hands are still gripped into my hips and his mouth is still working on my pussy.

‘Oliver, let go or i’ll make you cum another three times,’ i warn.

he lets out a groan and lets me get off of his face. it’s all glossy in the dim light of the lamp and it makes me chuckle.

‘you look pretty,’ he comments, head tilting to the side.

‘you look slimy,’ i crinkle my nose.

he laughs but pulls me down into him, kissing me.

i can taste myself on him and i’d be surprised if he couldn’t taste himself. regardless of whether he could or not he continued kissing me like his life depended on it. only pulling away when he needed to breathe.

‘thank you for taking care of my y/n,’ he gives me another short kiss before getting up to wash his face in our bathroom.

i follow him a moment later to brush my teeth. we don’t speak til we are back in bed, facing each other.

‘you truly are my favourite thing in this entire world,’ he moves a strand of hair out of my face, ‘i love you so much.’

‘i love you too,’ i move closer and give him a long kiss, ‘goodnight baby.’

i turn around and turn the lamp off, Oliver moves closer to me and we fall asleep spooning once again. this time not waking up til morning.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

THANK YOU @lovandr FOR HELPING ME WRITE THE FIRST SECTION AND ALSO BEING THE PERSON WHO READS ALL MY STUFF BEFORE I POST. I LOVE YOU 😚😚

#syds stuff #elspeth catton #farleigh start #felix catton #felix catton fanfic #felix catton fic #oliver quick #oliver quick fanfic #oliver quick fluff #oliver quick x reader #oliver quick smut #oliver quick saltburn #saltburn hyperfixation #saltburn fic #saltburn #felix catton x reader #oliver quick sub #syd writes #i am feral #feral #writers on tumblr #writing #writeblr #writers and poets #writerscommunity #writblr #i am in love with oliver quick #barry keoghan #barry keoghan fic #barry keoghan fanfic

[euphoniouspandemonium]

portrait of the lover from memory (blue hour), a poem by yours truly // transcript in alt text

Hehe have some gay shit

+ taglist

@talesofsorrowandofruin @baguettethebooklover @alexwritesfiction @rwickworre @olimpias @wildswrites @fiercely-raging-writer @writing-is-a-martial-art @ink-fireplace-coffee @thecollapsingneutron @phantomnations @cryptidsandqueers

#hiii for the love of god hello #(← girl who was thinking about his friend they have a crush on the entire time of writing and editing this) #syd's writing #poetry #this might not be that great compared to other stuff i ve written. but it is my magnum opus . to me.

[hraishin]

I'm writing a book

So, I've talked about this before but I've never really did anything to show my commitment to writing an original story. This particular story has been in my mind since 2017, when I wrote the first version of it. As you can imagine, six years can change a lot of things, including how you see a story you write and how you told that story. Now, six years later, I'm finally rewriting the story in a way I feel like it's worth to tell, with more meaning than the one I wrote when I was 17, going on 18, and hadn't even realized who I was yet. Now, I have the first chapter/prologue of that story ready and translated into english too, and I want to share it with others.

Keep it in mind that this is just the start and that things might change in the future, but I'm happy with how this looks for now, so, please, enjoy this if you want to give this little story I created a chance!

P.S.: The book is currently nameless, but I'll get to it (some day lmao) I'm also thinking about doing something with my ko-fi to give everyone an update on the story's progress and also to talk more about the characters (god knows I have a lot to talk about when it comes to my ocs haha)

Link to the story in Brazilian Portuguese (original language): X Link to the English translation: X Link to my ko-fi: X

And here's a sneak peek under the cut so you know what you're getting yourself into hehe:

The creature sits on the ground, the noise of chains echoing through the room with its movement. Its lips tremble, cracked and dry, while tears wet its cheeks. The sound that leaves its mouth is a quiet whimper, the sound of a child in fear, big green eyes staring at the only two figures that are standing a few feet from it. In the eyes of those who watch it cry, it doesn’t find pity, only weak curiosity; after all, the creature is crying, but it remains quiet. They expected more noise coming from a child.

“Daithi,” calls one of the figures. The creature follows the sound of their voice until green eyes find the ones of the woman who speaks. Stars shine inside them, a universe inside two orbs that look at it with indifference. “You haven’t given your opinion on the child yet.”

“And should I?” Says the other presence. The creature turns its eyes to him, finding eyes as black as the darkness of the night. Different from the woman’s, the man’s eyes find contempt. “It’s a freak, my lady. And to think that the blood of the Fae runs in her veins…”

The woman’s lips curve, some discomfort for the words said showing in her expression, as if she didn’t enjoy how the man spoke. Even so, the creature sees that she doesn’t disagree fully: the creature knows the woman sees her as a freak, although she doesn’t want to admit it so openly like the man by her side.

The stars in her eyes move with the movement of her face, and the creature forgets for a moment about the iron chains burning the skin of its ankles and wrists, admiring the woman in front of it. Star Eyes seems to soften with the look and clear admiration, even if just a little. Darkness Eyes notices, his expression turning even more serious.

“Lorell,” Darkness Eyes calls, and his voice demands attention. “This creature already lived more than it should. She’s six, your subordinate hid her for six years- It’s time to end this.”

The creature shakes. It is young, but it knows what’s happening — its mother wasn’t stupid, she knew what could happen if she was found out, and she warned a creature since it was very young. The tears fall a little stronger now on its face, chest moving quickly while its breathing grows. Green eyes turns to the stars in those judging eyes and make a silent wish: the creature wants to live.

“Do you have a name, child?” Asks Star Eyes.

For the first time the creature speaks, its voice shaking and failing due to the crying.

“Mace.”

“Mace,” repeats Star Eyes. She knows — the creature knows that she knows — that that’s not her true name. “And do you have any notion of what you are, Mace?”

#writing #oc stuff #syd rambles #original story

[banned-for-horny]

GIVE US KYLAR N SYD DOING IT IN THE CHANGING ROOM I BEG U

Anon you must be new here because I still can't write folks actually fucking so enjoy this instead:

Sydney is in the middle of removing his sea salt-encrusted contact lenses when someone pins him to the wall, pressing a blade to his neck.

For just a moment, he feels his heart drop to his feet. His elbows swing behind him, stomping at the assaulter's feet. He misses the first two, but on the third strike, he hits their ribs. The assaulter hisses in Sydney's ear and stumbles back, and with a harsh shove, he slams them into the opposite wall and breaks free.

Sydney whirls around, raising his fists at the blurry figure behind him. It takes a fair amount of squinting before he finally recognizes the dark skin and questionably messy hair.

"Kylar?" he whispers. From the way the blur seizes, he must have assumed right and slouches back in relief. "Christ, you scared me-"

"You..." Kylar seethes. He shakes out his head and lifts his knife. "I'm going to kill you!"

Sydney swallows, scooting back until his back hits the wall behind him. "What did I do?"

"Y-You-" Kylar grits his teeth. After a moment, he growls and yanks at his hair. "You...gah!"

"Sydney?" Your voice startles them both, and Sydney motions for Kylar to shut up.

"Yeah, sorry!" he calls. "You can head out if you want, I gotta go meet with my mom and I'm trying to take the tie out of my hair."

"Oh, ouch," you say sympathetically. "Good luck, Syd. I'll see you at school!"

After a few minutes, Sydney sighs and clears his head. The smaller boy looks dazed, like just hearing your voice turned his brain off.

"...okay, I'm lost," Sydney admits. "Is this because I said you weren't allowed to rent out another book?"

Kylar's eyes flutter before he shakes his head, snapping out of his trance. "No! Y-You-"

"You kept on doodling in the margins, Kylar, and you know if Headmaster Leighton catches you he'll-" Sydney yelps as Kylar pounces, straddling his waist. He throws his arms up to shield his face, but that only results in the smaller boy pinning his wrists over his head.

"You," Kylar gasps, "stole my first kiss. That-It wasn't for you!"

Sydney is half-torn between mocking Kylar for believing in something so sacred as a 'first kiss' and teasing him for pinning him in such a scandalous position. Then he tries to reflect on when he'd ever kissed Kylar and comes up blank.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Kylar," he admits.

Kylar growls, lifting his blade. "Don't be dumb, Sydney! Y-You-I was in the library!"

"Y...yes? You were," Sydney agrees slowly. "You asked if I could help you reach a book, I grabbed it for you, then I left the library to go meet someone at the beach. That's it."

That's as much as he remembers, anyhow. There was a twenty minute discrepancy between Kylar asking and him leaving the library, but Sydney chalks it up to his exhaustion knocking him out for a little bit like always.

Above him, Kylar's mouth falls open, grip on his knife faltering. "A-Are you serious?"

"Why would I lie about that?" Sydney asks.

"Because you-you're..." Kylar sits back on his wet swim trunks and tugs on his hair once more, a strangled scream escaping him. "This isn't fair! I know you're a little off now but you just-you said you were waiting for me, l-like you-" He growls again and hunches over, bumping his forehead against Sydney's. "You...you need to stay away from them. They're mine!"

Them? They? Sydney blinks. Who in the-Oh. Ohhhh.

Sydney can't help it: he giggles.

Kylar's scowl wavers as Sydney's shoulders shake. "Wha-Why are you laughing? I'm being serious!"

"I-I know, I just-" Sydney's giggles grow louder, stronger. He tries to stiffle it, hand over his mouth, but it doesn't help.

And Kylar's scowl turns into an adorable little pout. "Syd, stop it!"

"Haha, I'm-" Sydney clears his throat, but it just makes his giggling even worse. "I'm trying, Ky, I-hehehe-" He hunches over and laughs. There is barely enough room to curl up properly, so he settles for curling against Kylar. He's pleasantly warm against his wet skin. "I didn't-ahem...sorry. Sorry."

Kylar feels...very stiff against Sydney. He shouldn't be, he thinks-they used to hug all the time when they were younger. But Sydney guesses with all the hormones and Kylar being Kylar would make this a bit awkward.

"Did I actually kiss you?" he asks.

"You..." Kylar clears his throat and shuffles back. With the way he's sitting, he grinds right up against Sydney's chastity cage, and he bites back the frustrated growl at the sensation. "Uh, n-no. No, you didn't! I was-I didn't-"

"Did you want me to?"

Kylar freezes. Sydney takes his chances and sits up, slipping his arms around the smaller teen's waist as he grins.

"If I actually took your first kiss, then I'm sorry, really," Sydney says, "but I can help pay you back. Y'know..." He lifts his hips up and grinds, just enough to send shivers up his back and for Kylar to muffle a moan. "Help you practice."

Kylar's eyes flutter before he snaps out of it. "N-No! I'm not..." The fire in his glare sputters, and for a moment Sydney remembers the tiny, awkward little kid he used to play with after mass. "I-I'm saving myself. I-I have to-"

"Because the temple said so, or because you want to?" Sydney asks. When Kylar refuses to meet his eye, he smiles and tightens his hold on him. "They won't mind if you're not a virgin, Ky. And wouldn't it be better to know what you're actually doing instead of just blindly fumbling around like an idiot?"

"I-I know what I'm doing..." Kylar mumbles.

"Yeah, because those hentais you're watching are totally accurate," Sydney says.

"Wha-mphf!" Kylar squeaks into Sydney's mouth, but it doesn't take much probing for him to melt into the kiss. He's overeager and sloppy, but something deep within Sydney sings at how cute it is. He pulls back first, smirking at Kylar's soft whine.

"Deal?" he asks.

"I..." Kylar's eyes dart between his lips and his eyes before he lunges. He misses, but that doesn't stop him from pressing kisses down Sydney's jaw while pawing at his still-wet swimming trunks. "O-Only to learn. Right? Nothing else."

Sydney snorts and grabs at Kylar's shirt. "Sure. Nothing else."

#degrees of lewdity #banned writing #answered stuff #sydney x kylar #and then they fucked #realistically kylar wouldnt but in my head he probably had a crush on pre-Harper sydney #and also this still lines up with his plans to defile syd and make him 'less appealing' #sydney just wants to feel the satisfaction of swiping a V Card #sydney the fallen #kylar the loner

[pompadorbz]

#my art #syd's art #syd's poetry #i heart writing stuff like this at random whenever it strikes lol #i should post more of my silly googly docs poetry

[eachmostremembering]

wip tag game

Thank youuu @eatandsleepwell

RULES: Reveal the titles of the documents in your WIP folder and tag as many people as there are documents. Let others ask questions about the ones that interest them and post snippets or explain the contents as you see fit!

I have a million Things I want to write but I'm gonna just say the ones that have significant time and thought put into them (and that I'll actually be getting real work into before the year ends)

fanfic:

elaborate rituals for crossing the thresholds of doorways (syd/carmy, the bear, carmy is a bear and has ocd [is it magical realism or fantasy, who knows], character study)

(don't) tie me down (damon/OC, andromeda six, first part collaborative writing project that's a really careful attempt by us to preserve the character of the LIs in a modern setting)

i have crawled over town with your hair in my mouth (syd/carmy, selkie!syd saves carmy from drowning against her better judgement, what can i say i'm a speculative writer by nature)

i'm here halfway out, you are somewhere in the house (syd/mikey, the bear, mikey lives au that's mostly an excuse to look at syd with a loving eye)

original fic:

my ex-nun/ex-criminal small-town romance novel (i love romance as a genre and romance beats and i also love complicated religious experiences)

weimar faerie novel (peripheral democratic erosion but make it fae and arranged marriage I WILL GET TO U)

no pressure, but gonna tag @saveyourblood @statueofsirens @notbecauseofvictories @thefudge @irresistible-revolution @coldcrashpictures

anyone else who also wants to, please do it and feel free to tag me, i love reading about peoples wips!

#there's so much more but that's what's currently at the forefront #there's more syd/carm fic b/c their dynamic fascinates me #just tagging people whose writing and thoughts i love and who i wanna hear about their stuff #also eatandsleepwell thanks for tagging me! love your fic!

[daedrabait]

Reading other people's fics in between writing my own is actually super helpful

I've been getting shit done today. Maybe I can win over this block

#writing that drabble for Syd earlier also helped a lot ngl #got the brain juices flowing #ilya rambles #writing stuff

[wildflowerbun]

🌻

Fwhip has that worried crease to his brow but is still smiling at him, as if he's- he's someone important, something precious, and that's got him all fuzzy in the head, warm and familiar and safe-

#pigeon writes stuff #ty buggie!! #syd beloved #ask game

[sydchan]

Me re-reading my own Pokemon fics: “Damn, these actually aren’t too bad. Sure wish the author would write more. Really like this take on Calem. Would like to see more fics with him like this.”

Like I wish I was more of a writer since I actually do enjoy re-reading my own stuff. Just so hard to stick to writing vs drawing which is easy to just throw out there. Can’t believe teenage me actually managed to get out 6 chapters of something once ����‍♀️

#maybe I should try tho even my old trashy cringe stuff is kinda fun to reread in way #so even if it’s not good something is better than nothing #Syd rambles #what I should actually do is either finish that Bertie/Darcel oneshot soon or just throw it into the wild as is #just need to ask Becca her opinion on me revealing it #jury is in can’t reveal it sooooo needing to write more still stands tho #might finish it for myself anyway so can know in my heart I did 😤

[mrdrwrites]

Pairings: Oliver Quick X !fem reader

Summary: part two of this fic, you wake up and Oliver keeps his promise.

CW: NSFW!! kissing, bad language, spanking, breeding, overstimulation, sir kink, praise, degrading, pussy plugging, playful resistance

WC: 2.1k

warning: i am dyslexic so don't expect all words to be spelled correctly, also i don't autocapitalise my words

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

the next morning i wake up with a weight on my chest, i pry my eyes open to see Oliver above me, naked and smirking.

‘good morning baby,’ he leans down and kisses from my bare shoulder, up my neck, and to my lips.

i kiss him back, fragments of last night coming at mine in stabs, my pussy throbs at the thought of what Oliver promised last night. the kiss soon gets heated and the blanket covering me is thrown to the side, my naked body on show. Oliver doesn’t stop kissing me however, no, his lips move further down my body, stopping at my breasts.

‘such pretty tits y/n,’ he compliments, ducking down to capture my left nipple in his mouth.

i let out a strangled sort of noise as he sucks and flicks his tongue over my now hardened nipple. my hand moves to his hair, gripping it when he nips at my skin and a whimper leaves my lips.

‘look at you,’ he lifts his eyes to mine, ‘already making such slutty noises for me.’

i can feel the heat pooling in my stomach which ultimately makes my pussy throb.

Oliver leans back up to my face and grabs it in his hand, ‘you going to be a good girl for me?’ he questions, grip tightening just a little.

i nod frantically, needing him to use me in the ways i want. he gives me a quick smirk and i feel his bare knee slide between my legs, touching my cunt.

‘i need you to use your words my love,’ his tone is condescending, ‘are you going to be a good girl for me?’ he asks again.

‘yes sir, i’m going to be a good girl,’ i answer his question, knowing the use of the word sir will turn him on.

he leans his head down to my face and kisses me slow, his knee rutting against my wet pussy. i begin to grind myself into it, all of a sudden needing the friction as my mind goes hazy with lewd thoughts about the man above me.

Oliver pulls away slightly from my face, ‘is that how needy you are, huh, using my leg to get off like a dog in heat?’ he tuts at me, a hand moving down to my breast and pinching my right nipple.

i let out a hiss but continue my movements into his leg, ‘yes sir, i need you so bad,’ i moan out as he hikes his leg further up so the pressure gets worse on my throbbing pussy.

‘stop for me,’ he eyes are staring into my own, knowing i wouldn’t disobey him.

i stop my hips and whine when he moves his leg away.

‘i think you need a little punishment for last night, don’t you?’ he questions, a finger sliding between my breasts, ‘you undressed in the kitchen. acted like such a little whore, and then came to bed and had a sulk because i wouldn’t fuck you.’

i say nothing back, my mouth agape. he gets up off of me and sits on the end of the bed.

‘cmon y/n. lie over my knee, be a good girl now,’ he’s still looking at me with those intense blue eyes that i love.

‘yes sir,’ i mumble, getting out of bed and over to where Oliver is sat.

i stand in front of him for a few seconds, fiddling with my fingers. we had never done anything like this before and i was scared, but i’d be lying if i said demanding Oliver wasn’t making my pussy drip with need. after two minutes of me standing awkwardly Oliver speaks up.

‘y/n, do you want to do this? you can say no. we have our safe word remember, you can trust me,’ his hand reaches out to my arm.

i give a little sigh and nod my head, ‘yes sir i want to do this. i was very bad last night and i deserve to be punished,’ his lips move up into a smirk and he drags me onto his knee, belly side down.

‘how many do you think you need?’ he teases, hand moving up and down my back but eventually settling on my ass.

‘however many you think i deserve, sir,’ i reply, suddenly feeling very turned on.

he lets out a grunt and i can feel his hardness pushing into my side. the first slap to my ass was a surprise, i jolt up and make a noise of pleasure.

‘count after i’ve done each one, think you can do that for me baby?’ he asks whilst rubbing my ass where he just spanked me.

‘yes sir,’ i reply, ‘one.’

‘good girl,’ he delivers another harsh slap to my ass, the stinging sensation feeling so good.

‘two,’ i squeak obediently.

soon enough two slaps turn into twenty and my ass is aching, no doubt red.

‘you did so well baby,’ Oliver is still rubbing over my ass to soothe the pain.

i push my body up into his hand and sigh contently, ‘thank you sir.’

Oliver’s hand begins to wander from my ass to between my legs, my pussy is dripping from all the spanking and Oliver can see, and feel, that. his fingers move between my pussy lips, getting them wet before sliding them into me. i let out a moan and grip at his legs, he takes that as a sign to push further. his long fingers graze my g-spot and he curls them in the way he knows i love. i push my ass back further into his fingers, needing more of him.

‘don’t be a brat y/n,’ he warns, ‘you get what you’re given. is that understood?’ his hand rakes through my hair, pulling my head back.

‘yes sir,’ i whimper, the pain from his grip and the pleasure from his fingers building up my orgasm, ‘i need you so bad.’

the fingers in my pussy get faster at that and my head is pulled further back.

‘you’re such a slut y/n,’ he teases, ‘getting off from my fingers that are barely doing anything. i bet you’d cum right now if my finger toyed with that clit, wouldn’t you hm?’ he taps my clit with a free finger and i let out a choked noise.

‘yes sir i would. fuck, please let me cum. please,’ i beg, eyes screwed shut in pleasure.

‘no,’ his fingers are out of me in an instant, ‘you need to prove to me how good you are sweetheart.’

his grip in my hair is gone too and just as i’m stealing my breaking he spins my around on his knee so that i am in a sitting position, facing him.

‘there’s my pretty girl,’ he coos, lifting a hand up to wipe away tears i didn’t even realise had fallen down my face.

he pulls me closer to him, his dick pressing against my soaked cunt, a moan falls from my mouth and i shift back and forwards to get some friction.

he halts my motions with a hiss and a single slap to my ass, ‘stop y/n, unless you would like another twenty slaps to that little ass of yours i suggest you stop acting like a whore,’ his tone is dangerous, pupils so dilated his eyes look black, ‘understand?’

‘yes sir,’ i reply without thinking.

‘good girl,’ his hand slides from where it rests on my ass to my clit.

he rubs circles into it and before i get the chance to make a noise he takes my mouth in his own in a rough kiss. my own hand moves to his hard dick, wrapping around the head at first, knowing how sensitive his tip is. he groans against my mouth, bucking his hips slightly into my hand. the precum leaking from his dick is the perfect lubricant as i slide my hand up and down him. for every one stroke i do down to the base i do three at his head. the way he likes it.

‘stop y/n,’ he groans against my lips once more, ‘i want to cum in you. i’m going to breed you baby.’

my hand is off his dick in an instant, ‘yes sir,’ i moan as he quickens his pace on my clit.

‘fuck Oliver. i’m going to cum,’ his other hand moves between us and enters my pussy.

‘good girl, come on baby. cum for me,’ he speeds up even more.

i lean into him, chest heaving, grinding into his hands. my orgasm comes head on, it shakes my entire body. my cunt clenches around Oliver’s fingers and shudders when he continues to finger fuck me, his pace not slowing. i ride out my high on his fingers and overstimulation begins to set in.

‘fuck Oliver stop, i can’t,’ i try to voice my thoughts but im cut short with a moan that falls from my lips.

‘you can baby. keep going. you’re doing so well i’m so proud of you,’ his pace continues.

my second orgasm comes much quicker than my first but as i’m more sensitive it hits harder and i am screaming profanities into Oliver’s neck. he removes his fingers from my spent hole and just as i think he is done his cock is pressed against my clenched entrance.

‘cmon baby, one more. do one more for me,’ he coaxes, the tip of his cock now inside of me.

i nod against his neck and as i do im picked up, his cock no longer in me. he puts me on the bed so i am laid stomach down and props my ass up with the many pillows we have at our headboard. when he thinks i’m ready he plunges into me.

i leap forward when his cock brushes my g-spot, ‘fuck Oliver,’ the pleasure is blinding. i never want it to end.

‘what’s wrong baby?’ he questions, speeding up his thrusts, knowing he is hitting the spot i need him to every time.

i don’t answer him, instead opting to bury my face into the blanket on the bed, moaning his name over and over.

‘get your face out of that blanket,’ he slaps my ass, ‘i want to hear what i do to you.’

i obey him and by the time i am closing in on a third orgasm my voice is hoarse and my pussy is sore.

‘fuck Oliver i’m going to cum. please let me cum,’ i beg, tears streaming down my face from the overstimulation.

he continues pounding into me, ‘cum baby, you can do it.’

at his words i’m pushed over the edge once more and my pussy clenches around his cock. he pushes down on my lower back and drills into my pussy, sounds of skin slapping skin, my screams of pleasure, and his moans fill the room.

‘fuck Oliver please. fucking cum in me. i need you to,’ im fully crying now, the pleasure is too much for me im a stimulated mess.

he gives one last long thrust and pushes himself into me right to the hilt and empties himself into me. i whine at the warm feeling and he moans, giving a final few small thrusts, pushing his cum further into my pussy.

he pulls out a moment later, spreading my pussy with his hands, ‘you looks so good filled with my cum baby,’ he coos, ‘wanna plug?’

all the energy has left my body but at the mention of plugging my pussy with his cum still inside i find it in myself to reply with a simple, ‘please.’

he gives me a quick ‘okay’ and gets up from the bed to retrieve the pussy plug from one of the drawers in our room. he returns to me a second later and eases the plug into me. i let out a whimper, completely fucked out. Oliver pulls me into him, sorting the pillows out then placing me into them and wrapping a blanket around me. he slides into bed beside me and wraps an arm around my waist.

‘you did so well baby. i’m so proud of you,’ he gives me a quick kiss on the forehead and an even longer one on my lips.

‘i love you Oliver,�� i mutter, my eyes feeling heavy despite only waking up an hour and a half ago.

‘i love you too y/n’ is the last thing i hear before my eyes shut and i am asleep in the arms of my loving boyfriend.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

@douceurrrr requested a part two so i thought i would give it a try. lmk what you think of it, this is my second time writing smut ever so im a little inexperienced.

as always @lovandr thank you for helping me get back into writing, i love you 😚😚

#syds stuff #oliver quick fluff #oliver quick fanfic #oliver quick x reader #oliver quick #oliver quick saltburn #oliver quick smut #saltburn hyperfixation #sir james catton #saltburn fic #syd writes #saltburn #felix catton fanfic #felix catton fic #felix catton x reader #felix catton #venetia catton #elspeth catton #writers on tumblr #writing #writeblr #writers and poets #writerscommunity #i am feral #feral #i need him #farleigh start #farleigh start fanfic #send help #bro wtf

[thebearer]

Carmy has a sixth sense for when his gf hasn’t eaten. Even on the days where she has no headache, no aching tummy, he just takes one look at her and makes that one face and is like “Are you fucking kidding me?”

It was like he was telepathic.

You'd walk in, hum a sweet "hi, honey" pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. He'd catch you by your waist, eyes scanning your expression before his eyes narrowed, brows knitted in a glare.

"Are you fuckin' with me?"

"No, do you want to?" You'd hum, wrapping your arms around his torso, lashes batting up at him. "I wouldn't be opposed. I missed you today." Your head tilted towards his, leaning in.

Carmen huffed lightly, hands gripping your waist, pushing you apart. "Maybe after you eat." He'd glare at you pointedly, your shy blush, chin ducking when he said it confirming his suspicions.

"What have I told you about that?" It was more exasperated than anything, a tired sigh, less of the dominating, mean tone he usually had when asking you that.

"Carmy, I was busy-"

"-And you're supposed to eat." Carmen frowned, pulling a pan out. "I would have brought you somethin'."

"I'm fine, Carm." You whined, a breathy huff that had his brow raising at you, a glare in warning fixed your way.

"Sit." Carmen commanded, nodding towards the small kitchen table. You didn't argue, plopping down into the chair. You were hungry, but you wouldn't admit that to him. "What're you in the mood for?"

"Whatever you're in the mood to cook, bear. 'm not picky." You prop your face in your hands, Carmen's laugh making you pout.

"You're not picky? Right." Carmen says sarcastically, grinning at you from over his shoulder. "I got the stuff for an omelet like Syd made with the chips. You want that?"

"Yeah." You nodded, hoping he couldn't hear the low growl of your stomach. "Can you put on a pot of coffee too?"

"Decaf?"

"No, regular." You reply. "Thought we were gonna fuck after this? I don't want to be sleepy."

Carmen snorts, shaking his head at you. Your satisfied at the way he blushes, the heat rising under the collar of his white tee and up his neck. You grinned in satisfaction at how flustered you could make him. How easy it was.

Carmen made a big show of garnishing the omelet for you, setting it down in front of you with a sweet kiss to your head, chatting with you while you ate.

The next day, you saw your lunch box on the counter, a post it note attached in Carmen's boxy writing.

Make sure you eat today, and have a good day. Love you the most, -C

#thebearer #carmen berzatto x reader #thebearerblurbs #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto x reader #bearblahs #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto fic #carmy the bear #the bear fx #the bear #the bear season 2 #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x you #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto imagine

[nolita-fairytale]

j is for james beard... and for jealousy | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader

pairing: jealous boyfriend!carmy x female!reader 

word count: 7.4k

summary: after sydney takes home a big win at the james beard awards, you and your boyfriend carmy run into an old rival for a fiery, chaotic, and surprisingly sexy night. companion piece to 'make my heart surrender' but can be read as a standalone oneshot.

warnings: 18+ chapter, minors dni: lots of swearing, p*rn with a plot, smut, p in v unprotected sex (reader is using hormonal birth control in monogamous relationship), praise kink, rough jealousy sex

a/n: how dare I drag poor james beard into this hetero nonsense?! anywayssss surprise i'm back because i keep having ideas for these two. maybe one day i'll just write a carmy x reader piece that doesn't include this character but for now... please enjoy this literal porn with a plot. also: let's all agree that toxic jealousy is a red flag in relationships, however, i wanted to work with a scenario where carmy would perhaps be more sexually assertive.

“I look ridiculous,” Carmy had grumbled earlier that day, at his reflection in the mirror. 

He had never felt like himself while wearing a suit. Sure, he would spend time, effort, and money into finding the perfect vintage denim jacket, but a suit? He’d much rather be behind the scenes, in his chef whites, instead of this. 

“You look…” you’d countered him, emphasizing the word ‘look’. “...hot, Carmen.”

He’d given you somewhat of a half smile in response – flattered by your comment, and also unconvinced you hadn’t just said in an attempt to get him out of the house. 

Or out of obligation. 

Because he’s your boyfriend. Because you’ll say anything to get him out for Syd’s big night. Because you love him. 

Carmy had never gotten used to the whole celebrity aspect of the food world – especially his own. These award ceremonies were always an uncomfortable reminder that he never quite felt like he fit in. 

“Do you think Syd would kill me if-?” Carmy had asked, shifting uncomfortably. 

“Baby, Sydney is counting on us… and she and I will both kick your ass if you don’t get in the car,” you’d cut him off, because there was no way in hell he was getting out of this. With a scowl on his face, you’d dragged him down the stairs and into your Uber. 

And that’s how he ended up here, at the James Beard award ceremony on a Sunday night, as you all wait anxiously for the announcement. While the restaurant hadn’t been open long enough to be nominated and was actively in a state of ‘working out the kinks,’ Carmy’s celebrity in the food world had brought in a lot of press. Ever since Sydney and Carmy had become partners in the reopen, he had been more than happy to let her take center stage. When the nominations were announced, and Sydney was on the list, he was ecstatic for her. Truthfully, it was a relief that she seemed to do much better with all the stuff he wasn’t crazy about: press, interviews, the spotlight. 

“Wake me up when this snoozefest is over,” Richie mumbles trying his best to pretend he’s not having a good time. You snort, shooting Richie a look, because you know it’s one of the most exciting nights he’s had in a while. 

Besides Carmy, who wouldn’t want to get all dressed up to go to a fancy party and celebrate Sydney?

You’ve somehow managed to corral the core staff of The Bear here this evening. The entire restaurant had been abuzz when the nominations were announced, and talks of who would get stuck at the restaurant the night of the award ceremony had already begun. It was an easy decision to close the restaurant for that night, so that everyone who wanted to could attend. 

Your life here is better than you ever imagined it could be. Working your ass off in a kitchen that you love has been invigorating. It’s helping you fall in love with the process all over again. You suspect that your time in fine dining had, perhaps, run its course even before you quit your last job. Back then, here is what you’d longed for on the days you felt your most lost. You love being a teacher; you love mentoring Marcus. He’s got a desire to learn that never quits, and it inspires you day in and day out. But most importantly, you’re head over heels in love. You’re so deeply in love with Carmy that sometimes, you wonder what took the two of you so long to pull the trigger.

Tonight is no different. You’re surrounded by people you adore more than anything  – people you’ve been in the trenches with during a dinner service from hell, people you’ve laughed your ass off with after a round of drinks outside of the restaurant – and you’re all here to celebrate someone who’s become a close friend of yours. It’s just another reminder – another sign from the universe – that you made the right decision.

And you’re sure Sydney is going to win. 

You’re not sure how you know. 

You can just feel it. 

Sydney sits between Carmy and Marcus, and you’re seated in between Carmy and Richie. You notice Carmy’s leg is bouncing up and down impatiently as he anticipates the next category of awards. Even though you know these big social events put Carmy on edge, you know he’s really just nervous for her. 

“And the winner… for the James Beard Rising Star award of 2023…” the announcer, esteemed chef Mashama Bailey begins, grabbing the attention of the entire room. 

Your heart is pounding in your chest, and Carmy continues to fidget nervously. You reach across Carmy’s lap, grabbing Sydney’s hand and giving it a squeeze of reassurance. Sydney holds on to you, and while you’re sure she might cut off your circulation from squeezing so tightly, you don’t mind. You’re all on the edges of your seat. 

“Sydney Adamu of The Bear!”

You and Carmy are cheering as loudly as you can, while Richie jumps to his feet letting out a loud ‘whoop.’ A chorus of ‘that’s right,’ ‘she won!’ and ‘c’mon syd’ echoes through Tina, Gary, and Ebra and Manny, while Angel is already on his feet taking a video of the crowd. Everyone is cheering so boisterously you’re not sure it’ll ever stop. 

“You won, Syd!” you yell over the loud claps and cheers, giving her hand one more squeeze. She rises, letting go of your hand, you and Carmy both following to give her some space to walk through the aisle. 

“Let’s go, Syd! That’s right. That’s right,” Marcus calls out loudly, jumping to his feet with Richie and earning a few looks from the people sitting to the right and left. 

“Congratulations, chef,” Carmy whispers, as she passes him by. You watch as Marcus ushers her over to the aisle so that she can go up to the stage while Angel films the whole thing on his iPhone. Carmy has the proudest look on his face, the tip of his nose the lightest blush pink, and you’re beaming as you watch your friend make her way towards the stage of the opera house. 

“Remember when this was you?” you whisper to Carmy, catching his attention. 

“Tonight everything changes for her,” Carmy replies, grinning from ear to ear. 

“For the both of you,” you add. “For all of us.”

The night he won the rising star award put him on the map. While you hadn’t known Carmy at the time, you’d heard about him in those early days of both of your careers. Carmy had risen so quickly through the ranks that by the time you met him, he was only a few weeks away from his promotion to CDC at the old restaurant. Not only did this put Sydney on the map, but it was better press for The Bear than anyone could ask for. 

“Congratulations, baby,” you say, kissing him on the cheek. He just shoots you a look, the pride evident in his eyes, before wrapping his arm around you and holding you close. 

~

“I just wanna say,” Richie begins, having garnered the attention of your group. You’re all huddled in a circle at the reception, champagne flutes in everyone’s hands. 

“I know we don’t always see eye to eye…” Richie toasts, earning a few looks and side comments from your team. “And don’t forget about that time you stabbed me… but even if this brings a bunch of fuckin’ strokes to the restaurant, we’re so fuckin’ proud of you.” 

“To Sydney, who’s… what does Carmy say… changed the chemistry and who is the heart of this restaurant,” Ebra adds on. 

Tina smiles proudly, raising her glass to Sydney. It brings a smile to your face to see her all dressed up too. 

“Syd, I don’t know where the hell we’d be without you,” Carmy continues, raising his glass. 

“Cheers to you, Sydney!” you say, clinking champagne glasses, before taking your first celebratory drink as a team. 

It doesn’t take long for your group to break off into smaller ones – making comments about how out of place you all feel at this fancy of an event. Richie’s wrapping an arm around Carmy’s shoulder, ushering him to a side conversation – something about ‘lizards this’, and ‘the working class that.’ 

“So how do you feel?” you ask, turning towards Sydney, taking a moment to quietly congratulate your friend. 

“I think I’m still in shock,” she sighs in relief, earning a chuckle from you. 

“Well, I’ll cheers to that. You know. To calm the nerves,” you joke, raising your glass once more. 

“To liquid courage,” she agrees, clinking glasses with you again, as you both decide just to finish off your flutes of champagne. 

“Can I get you another drink?” you offer, placing your now empty champagne 

“Oooo can you get me one of those fancy themed cocktails I saw at the bar earlier?” Sydney replies, excitedly. 

“Anything for you,” you say back. 

“And when you’re back, I think I saw Carla Hall has a tasting table here so we should make our rounds,” Sydney mentions, because there’s no way either of you are missing out on the fact that the best chefs in the world are cooking in this room right now. 

You nod in agreement, heading to the bar to get both you and Sydney a new round of drinks. 

“What can I getcha?” the bartender asks. 

You glance at the menu, deciding on your go-to, a gin and tonic, and then one of the featured cocktails of the evening that Sydney mentioned, knowing she’s a tequila drinker. You wait at the bar for your drinks, knowing the fancy mezcal cocktail you just ordered for Sydney will take a little bit of a time to make. 

“I was wondering when I’d run into you,” you hear a voice say, grabbing your attention. It’s a familiar voice that you were really hoping you’d never have to hear again. 

“Funny, because I was hoping to avoid you,” you quip back, turning to the man who’s just joined you at the bar. His bravado alone is enough to earn an eye roll from you and you can feel your guard going up. 

“What’re you doing here?” you ask, unable to hide the disdain in your voice. 

“You haven’t heard?” he asks, a cocky smirk on his face that you just want to slap off of it. 

“I don’t make it my business to keep up with you, Walker,” you shoot back, using his last name as a formality, completely unamused by his question.

“God, I love it when you talk dirty,” he croons, a flirtatious low chuckle rumbling out of his chest. 

You ignore him, rolling your eyes for the second time in the last two minutes, as you thank the bartender who’s just come back with your gin and tonic. You raise the glass to your lips, getting a head start since now, you definitely need this drink. 

“Moved to LA. Took a CDC position out there. Besides, after you left… New York was… getting boring,” he explains, playing it cool. He drops the name of the well-respected LA restaurant that he’s running now in an attempt to impress you, which only seems to piss you off further. 

You scoff in response. If you weren’t waiting on Sydney’s drink, you’d be long gone by now, but as you watch the bartender burn a sugar cube, you wonder how damn long it takes for a fucking mezcal drink to be made. 

Maybe if I’ll just ignore him, he’ll fuck off, you think to yourself.

“You know, I was surprised to hear you moved to Chicago. Left without saying goodbye. Then again, should’ve known…” he provokes, continuing his very one sided conversation. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean, Nate?” you snap, turning your head to him, instantly regretting giving him the attention he’s so desperately seeking.

He raises an eyebrow, before nodding towards Carmy as a reply. Your gaze follows, and you can tell that Carmy’s noticed who you’re talking to at the bar. 

“It’s a small world. Word gets around. People talk.”

But you’re not listening to him, your eyes fixed on Carmy. Carmy sends a look of concern your way, but you nod back to him as if to say ‘all good.’ You can hold your own here. Nate watches carefully, noticing the look you share with Carmy across the room. He was always a detail oriented son of a bitch. 

“Classic golden boy,” Nate sighs, the envy in his voice giving him away. 

“Don’t you think your little one sided rivalry with Carmy is getting a little old?” you laugh dryly. 

“One sided?” Nate asks back, taking a step towards you. 

“Yeah, one sided,” you repeat, standing your ground. Now way in hell you’re going to let this asshole back you up. “Because if I recall correctly, he never indulged you in your silly little games.”

Nate laughs again, taking another step towards you that makes you increasingly more uncomfortable. 

“If that’s how you remember it.”

“Oh grow up.”

“Not when golden boy gets everything I want.”

“You’re so full of shit!” you exclaim, finally taking a step back. “Carmy’s had to work for everything he’s achieved. You and I both know that.”

“How do you think he’d feel,” Nate starts, and you’re not sure if he’s trying to sound seductive or intimidating – neither of which are working on you. “... if he knew about what happened between us? After he left New york? It was… what? A week, maybe two, before you jumped into bed with me?”

“Carmy knows I’m not a thing to be had, Nate,” you seethe, glaring at him. 

The bartender returns with your second drink finally. 

“You sure about that?” Nate smirks, reaching out to touch you. 

What a fucking asshole. 

“You’re disgusting,” you seethe, jerking your arm away from him. You take both of your drinks, and you can’t get out of there fast enough. 

“It was great catching up,” he calls after you, cockily. 

“Can’t say the same,” you say, not even turning to look back at him. 

You return to your group, holding in your fury. It’s Sydney’s big night and you’d much rather focus on that than the asshole of an old coworker you can’t fucking stand. You try to shake off the interaction, deciding it’s not even worth expending energy on. 

“What the hell was that all about?” Sydney asks, having witnessed your tenuous interaction with the man you called Nate. She thanks you as you hand her her new drink. 

“Absolute trashcan of a human. We used to work with him. In New York,” you said, letting out a puff of flustered air. 

“Okay but… that was weird right?” Sydney questions, seeing that this guy’s clearly gotten under your skin.

“Totally. He’s a piece of shit. He and Carmy always had this weird rivalry but it was mostly on his end. I… also may or may not have made the dumbest mistake ever once upon a time and slept with him… like… over a year ago,” you confess, feeling just a little bit guilty about it. 

“Noooo,” she replies, her eyes widening. “You slept with that guy?”

“Yeah,” you answer, regretfully. “Not one of my finest moments. Long story short: right after Carmy left New York to come back here, I got a little too drunk with some coworkers. I was really sad and it was stupid, and uh, he was… let’s just say more than happy to play the part of a good listener.”

“Can’t imagine that guy being good, or a listener, let alone both at once,” Sydney replies, seeing the negative effect he’s had on you in one conversation.

“Yeah, It was a stupid fucking mistake and I regretted it the next morning. If you can believe it, he got even more insufferable when he realized it would never happen again,” you tell her, shaking off the bad taste in your mouth the conversation left you with. 

“Yo,” Carmy says, hesitantly. He can tell that you’re pissed after your conversation at the bar. “Everything good?”

“Yeah,” you answer, honestly. “Just Nate Walker being a fuckin’ asshole. But what’s new?”

“Hey Syd! Let’s go grab a bite,” Marcus calls to her. 

“You guys mind?” she asks, looking from you to Carmy. 

You shake your heads ‘no’, and honestly, you’re glad it gives you a little time alone with your boyfriend. You watch as Sydney leaves with Marcus to make the rounds, leaving you and Carmy alone. 

“Haven’t heard that name in a while,” Carmy starts, bringing Nate up again. He can feel his face beginning to heat up as he asks you about it. 

“Yeah.”

“Biggest jackoff in New York City.”

“Well, apparently he’s LA’s problem now.”

“Fucko,” Carmy says, shaking his head at the memory of his pain in the ass sous. He can’t figure out why seeing Nate talk to you near-sent him into a blind rage, but you’d reassured him that you were good so, he let you hold your own. 

“Seems like he had a lot to say to you.”

“Yeah, lucky me,” you reply dryly. 

“After that I think I need a shower. Or a bath of bleach.”

Carmy lets out a small laugh, releasing some of the tension he, unknowingly, was holding in his body. 

“Listen, I don’t want to talk about Nate,” you say, changing the subject. 

It’s not that you feel weird about it – that you’d feel weird telling Carmy about what happened between the two of you – but it just feels so small and insignificant in the face of the love that you have with Carmy. 

“Good, me either,” Carmy exhales. 

Another release in pressure. 

He wonders if he’d been this tense all night, or if seeing you with Nate had managed to piss him off this much. 

“You wanna dance?” you ask him, a mischievous smile on his face. You offer a hand out to him. 

“Baby, you know I don’t dance,” he states, matter of factly. 

“I know. But I do,” you say, with a wiggle of your eyebrows. 

“One dance,” he warns, earning a triumphant smile from you.

He takes your hand, prompting you to put your drink down on the table where you’re all posted up at. Carmy shakes his head, surprised that you’ve coaxed him this far out of his comfort zone. As he pulls you into his arms, you giggle, wrapping yours around his neck and sway to the loud music in the background. 

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” he asks you with such genuine love in those beautiful blue eyes of his. 

He thinks you look like a goddess – could be the dress, but he’s pretty sure it’s you. Your hair is shorter now than it was a few months ago and lays in the softest, most gentle waves, parted perfectly down the middle. He hasn’t stopped staring at cherry red-painted lips all night, and every time he gets a peek of your legs through the high slit in the dress you’re wearing, he swears he short circuits. 

Not to mention the low neckline. He’d watched you tie the top of the dress into a plunging neckline, and had to hold back his ask for you to cover up. It’s not that he cared about what you wore. But if he hadn’t been going to therapy over the last few months, he might feel some kind of way about anyone else getting to see any part of your breasts – anyone but him. 

“A couple of times… but I won’t be mad about hearing it a few more, Bear,” you grin, leaning into him. 

He smiles at your use of his childhood nickname. Back in New York, he’d kept it from you. It was just a reminder of what he’d left behind: his psycho mom, a nightmare of pain from his psycho-fucked-up family, how much it hurt when Mikey cut him out. But now, he loves the way it sounds coming from your lips, your voice the sweetest thing he’s ever heard. While he knows it’s taken him a long time to let you in, he’s glad he has. Whether it be at the restaurant or at the home you share together, you’ve become one of the most consistent things in his life. 

The rest of the night is almost perfect. It’s filled with dancing, catching up with coworkers and friends in the culinary world, and most importantly, a celebration with your chosen family. That is, until you hear Sydney swear halfway across the room, catching the attention of you and Carmy both. 

Carmy’s looking past you to where Nate is towering over Sydney at the bar. If looks could kill, he’s pretty sure Nate would be dead by now. 

“Is that Nate again?” Carmy asks, his face pink as he feels a rush of blood flow throw him. 

You can see that Sydney is practically in the same place you were an hour ago. You watch as he steps in front of her, practically blocking her in between him and the bar. 

“I don’t like this. We should go over there,” you say with a sense of urgency. 

Carmy agrees, and Richie and Marcus, who you’re currently conversing with, follow close behind. 

“Okay. You need,” Sydney warns, her voice deliberate, like a rattlesnake giving one last warning before it strikes. “... to back… the fuck up.” 

His response is even worse, causing a fire to burn in your belly as you overhear what he says to Sydney. 

“Oh come on,” he coos, forcing himself closer to her. “I’m just trying to have a little fun.”

Sydney takes another step to the side, trying her best to escape him and holding her hands up as a barrier while you charge at him. Your sudden movement attracts his attention, giving Sydney the out that she needs. You put both of your hands on his chest, shoving him away from her as you shout. 

“She said ‘no.’ What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Nate’s got such a smug, satisfied smirk on his face that, if you weren’t in a room filled with the best chefs in the world, you’d actually punch it right off of him. Carmy follows you, protectively standing behind you. 

“Jealous?” he asks, amused. His eyes flicker over to Carmy, whose face is beginning to heat up, turning a brighter shade of red by the moment.  

“In your dreams, asshat,” you spit back. 

“Yeah, you’re right about that,” he says, completely satisfied as Carmy’s fist clenches. He’s clearly enjoying just how much he’s getting under his old boss’ skin. 

You feel Carmy step towards him, but you turn to him, placing a hand on his abdomen to stop him, “Bear, it’s not worth it.”

“Did you tell him?” Nate asks you, with the intention of stirring the pot. 

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter, shaking your head in absolute disbelief. 

“Tell me what?” Carmy asks you softly. 

“How does it feel, golden boy? To know that the one thing you always wanted… I got to first,” Nate sneers, a threatening sound in his voice. He looks from you to Carmy, assessing the damage. 

Before Carmy can say anything, it’s you who lurches towards NAte, and Carmy’s wrapping his arms around you to hold you back. You can feel the tension in his arms as he holds you against his chest protectively. 

“Okay this motherfucker is just asking for it,” Richie seethes, charging towards Nate. 

“Richie, don’t!” Sydney shouts, shooting him a ‘please don’t make a scene’ look. 

It takes all of Richie’s self control to stop himself. He nods to her, holding up his hands as a surrender. He begins to take a few steps back as your uncomfortably public standoff continues. 

Sydney has retreated back so that she stands side by side with Marcus, while Carmy’s loosened his grip on your waist. 

By the look on Nate’s face, you can tell he thinks he’s gotten away with it all, as he looks around at all of you one last time. 

“You all have a goodnight,” he smirks, before taking his drink and slithering away. 

You could care less where to. You’re just glad he’s gone. 

You watch as he goes before checking in with Sydney, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she says, shaking her head. Marcus is by her side in an instant and you can see Carmy’s jaw twitching with anger. “Can’t believe you used to work with that guy. Fuck that guy.”

“Yeah, fuck that guy,” Richie agrees under his breath. 

“C’mon. Let’s just…” Marcus encourages quietly, nodding to your table. 

Richie, Marcus, and Sydney all make their way back to your group as you stay with Carmy. His face is red and you can see it on his face that he’s still processing what just happened – what Nate said. You can see the gears turning in his head, and he’s staring at the floor, his face still cherry tomato-red.

“Carmy,” you say, ripping him from his thoughts. 

He looks up at you, his face softening the minute you make eye contact. 

“Can we go somewhere? Talk?” he asks, trying not to look like he’s going to burn the fuckin’ place down. 

You agree with a nod, taking his hand and leading him elsewhere. 

The further away from the reception you go, the quieter the party gets, and the louder your thoughts get. Would he be mad? You were furious with Nate for trying to use what happened to get under Carmy’s skin, but you also wonder if he’s mad at you too. For sleeping with Nate? For not telling him? But was it something you were supposed to tell him? It’s not like you expected him to tell you about every person he’d ever slept with. 

Carmy finally stops, leading you into a quieter room, far away from the party. As you flick the lights on, it looks like a single dressing room for the plays performed here. The silence between the two of you is deafening, and it’s not just because it’s the first quiet moment you’ve had together since you arrived. 

“I’m not mad… about Nate… about what he said,” Carmy says, breaking the silence between the two of you. 

He’s trying his best to sound convincing, reassuring even, but he’s sure he’s doing a shit job. 

You’re surprised, so you just take him in, searching his face for any clue that he’s telling that truth. His face is red, and you can see a tightness running across his chest as he’s looking for the courage to ask:

“But why didn’t you tell me?” 

You sigh, unsure of what to say. 

“Because…” you begin, hoping that if you just start talking, you’ll find the right words to explain. “I-, I didn’t think I had to. It happened once and it was a stupid mistake with… a lot of tequila involved.”

“You had just left New York and I was lonely. I didn’t say anything because… it didn’t mean anything to me, Bear.”

He listens, taking your explanation in, his eyes fixed on the floor again. He’s not mad at you, but he can’t seem to shake this feeling of anger – this tension that has him wanting to punch a hole through the wall. 

“I don’t like what he fuckin’ said to you,” he finally blurts out. 

“That- that he thinks he can just say whatever the fuck he wants. That he forced himself on Syd like that, like he can-.”

Carmy looks down at the floor again, his words trailing off. 

He’s pissed. 

You can tell he’s pissed. 

But you have a nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach that says something else is going on. 

Is Carmy… jealous?

“Carmy, I’m sorry you had to find out like this,” you apologize softly. “He shouldn’t have-, I mean he really is the worst fucking person to ever walk-.”

“I’m not upset about-,” he interrupts, firmly. He holds your gaze, trying to give you the most reassuring look he can. “I don’t care about-. I just… I don’t like the way he talked to you.”

You wait as he stews on his thoughts, his anger simmering as he sorts through his feelings. It’s like watching a hot pot of water come to a boil. 

“I didn’t like seeing him touch you earlier like-.”

Let it rip.

“Like he can just put his hands on anyone he-. On you! I–.”

And then finally he explodes with, “I just fuckin’ hate that guy!”

It’s as if the pressure valve has been released as he lets out a big puff of air. While you can see it’s given him some relief, you’re still not sure what you’re supposed to offer at this moment. 

“Carmy, what can I- hmmph?” you begin to ask, before being cut off by his lips on yours. 

Well this isn’t what you were expecting.

Your head is spinning as your boyfriend kisses you with such passion, fervor, and urgency. He’s crashing his lips against yours at a desperate pace, and it’s all tongues and teeth and his hands are grabbing the back of your head, tangling into your hair. You’re not sure how you’ve gone from trying your best to hold space for your boyfriend’s feelings, to him pressing you up against the dressing room counter.

You gasp as he hoists you up onto the counter, pushing his body into yours. 

“Carmy, are you-?” you ask, feeling the tent that’s already formed in his pants as you wrap your legs around him. 

There’s a confident assertiveness he moves with, and as much as you hate to admit it, this is all turning you on.

“Hate that fuckin’ guy,” Carmy murmurs into your skin, as he begins to leave kisses down your jawline. 

His mouth moves urgently down your neck, to your shoulders, to the exposed skin the plunging neckline of your dress reveals. His teeth leave light pink and purple marks in their wake, and you’re gasping, moaning, grabbing at any part of him you can hold on to. Little love bites begin to appear, but when he’s making you feel this good, you could care less. 

He’s confident in the way he sucks little marks into your skin, biting down then immediately soothing the pain with his tongue. As he works his mouth over you, he looks up at you, his eyes wide, pupils blown out in pure desire, and it takes your fucking breath away. 

Pain and pleasure.

Just to show the whole world that you’re his. 

 “Thinks he can fuckin’ look at you. Put his fuckin’ hands on you,” he mumbles against your skin. His mouth has reached the lowest point of your plunging neckline as he stands up, pushing himself against you between your legs. 

“Baby,” you breathe out. You make a mental note to unpack why his sudden possessiveness has you so hot and bothered with your therapist next week. 

“I really, really don’t want to talk about him right now.”

Carmy drops to his knees, stripping off his suit jacket and throwing it elsewhere. The sight has you absolutely drenched and you think you may cum just from looking at him. 

“You’re mine,” is all he says, eliciting another moan from you as he sinks his teeth into the soft supple skin of your calf. You slide a heel-covered foot over his shoulder, as his lips begin trail up your calf, to your knee, to your inner thighs…

“Yes. I’m yours,” you breathe out, exasperated by Carmy’s sudden forwardness. You lean back, your head hitting the mirror with a thud. “All yours.”

He works his way up your thighs, leaving soft kisses on your inner thighs while his hands disappear underneath the skirt of your dress, frantically searching for your panties. 

“Carmy, I don’t know if we have time for-,” you gasp, as he pulls away for a moment. 

His curls are unruly from running your fingers through them, his lips swollen from the passionate makeout you started only moments ago. You feel his fingers hook underneath the top of your panties and he looks at you like he can see right through you. Holding your gaze, it’s impossible to not get lost into his ocean blue eyes you’ve fallen so deeply in love with. He takes his sweet time, teasing you, refusing to break eye contact, as he pulls your panties down your legs at an unbearable slow pace. 

You don’t look away. 

You don’t dare look away. 

Finally, finally, he breaks eye contact, sliding your panties over your feet, and putting them into his pocket as you brace yourself for what comes next. 

“We should-,” you start, your words ceasing instantly as he spreads your legs, licking a stripe up your dripping wet core. You cry out loudly, panicking almost instantly, because you don’t remember locking the damn door. 

We should stop. 

Do this elsewhere. 

Lock the door. 

Keep quiet. 

But you can’t seem to get the words out, as you let out another loud moan, and Carmy doesn’t have the heart to stop you. Something primal inside of him wants nothing more than for the whole party mere hallways away to hear you crying out his name. 

“Fuck, baby,” he murmurs, dragging his tongue through your folds. “Already so wet for me and I’ve barely even put my mouth on you.”

He wonders if there’s an award for this. 

Lifetime Loser Award.

2023’s Most Jealous Boyfriend

Chef Most Likely to Fuck His Girlfriend During the James Beard Reception Because He’s a Sad, Jealous Fuck.

“Carmy, please,” you beg, scooting your hips off the counter and pulling him up from the ground. Your demand rips him from his own self deprecating thoughts. 

“I need you inside of me. Now.” 

You need him.

“Turn around,” is all he says. 

He’s not sure where he gets the confidence for such a demand and it has you clenching around nothing. 

You’re more than happy to oblige as you whisper out a ‘yes,’ and turn yourself around to face the mirror. You can hear the sound of him unzipping his pants, then he’s hiking up the skirt of your dress once more. He puts his hands on your hips to steady you – maybe even to steady himself – and you can feel the head of his cock running through your folds. 

Just when you think you may die if you don’t get what you want, you let out the loudest cry you think has ever come out of your mouth as he pushes inside of you. You gasp, your fingers gripping the edge of the counter as you feel him shudder against your back. Your head hangs low, just focusing on memorizing how every single inch of him feels inside of you.

Carmy’s thrusts are slow at first, deep and deliberate thrusts burying himself all the way to the hilt. The sight of his cock disappearing inside of you is really testing his patience here as he thinks he may go insane. 

Back out. 

Then back in. 

“You’re so fuckin’ wet. So fuckin’ perfect for me. God, I love being inside of you,” he groans, enjoying his last few slow and deep thrusts. 

He’s got one hand on your hips and the other, wrapped around your waist. As he begins to speed up the pace of his thrusts, the hand around your waist goes to the counter too, to brace himself. 

“Carmen,” you moan his name, as he starts to go faster. “Yes. Perfect for you. Only you.”

Only you. 

Your words cause him to smirk, and the sounds you’re making only encourage him to keep fucking into you like he means it. 

“Look at yourself, baby,” he says, his words causing you to squeeze around him. He groans, his eyes rolling back, before he returns his gaze to the mirror. 

When you lock eyes, it’s like you’ve been set on fire. Your skin feels hot, and the prolonged eye contact has you squeezing around him as you start to grind against him. You feel lightheaded, breathless, purely at his mercy. 

Carmy holds your gaze through the mirror and you want to commit this photo to memory. You watch your reflections in the mirror, seeing your face change as he speeds up again. His hands are everywhere: in your hair, grabbing you breasts, tracing over the little marks he’s left all over your chest.

 “This how I make you feel? Tell me. Tell me how good I make you feel,” he asks, and you think this is the most vocal he’s been during sex.

“So good, Car,” you’re panting. He grabs a handful of your hair, guiding your head to the side so that he can kiss you. You manage to continue your praise in between wet, sloppy, and desperate kisses, and desperate thrusts between the both of you.

“So fuckin’ good. So high. Like I’ll never come back down.”

He’s satisfied with your answer, feeling more and more confident with each thrust. You can tell he likes it, so you decided, why the hell not?

“You feel incredible inside of me, baby,” you continue, wanting nothing more than to appease him. 

He’s swallowing your moans in his mouth, as he continues to fuck you, your pushing your ass back against him, your hands bracing against the mirror. You see stars as he hits that spot inside of you – the one that makes you let out a sob – and he’s bending you over the counter so that he can find that spot again and again. Carmy presses his forehead against your shoulder as his hands move underneath your skirt once again, rubbing fierce circles around your clit, trying to take you there with him. He knows he won’t last long when you’re moaning his name like that. He looks up for a moment, enjoying the reflection in the mirror a little too much, before sinking his teeth into your shoulder, feeling himself get closer… closer…

You can feel he’s close too, so you say something, something you know will bring him over the edge. 

“Want you to cum inside of me.”

“That what you want? Want me to fill you up? Have me dripping down your legs when any other fucko tries to talk to you tonight. Tries to even fuckin’ look at you…” he asks, his breath ragged and sentences becoming increasingly choppy. 

He's leaving little kisses and bite marks all over your upper back as he continues to fuck you.

“Yes,” you pant, moaning his full name once again. 

“Fffffffuck, baby. That’s so hot,” he stutters, his thrusts becoming more erratic. He grabs a handful of your ass, chasing his high with you. 

You’re squeezing your eyes shut so hard you see stars when he finds that spot again, and you remember that he wanted you to watch. You blink open your eyes, breathless as you take in the image of your boyfriend fucking you from behind. He’s got his forehead resting on your shoulder. You feel the delicious contradiction of pain and pleasure once again, as he sinks his teeth into the soft skin of your shoulder, in the same place from before.

So close. And you're already so tender.

“Carmen. Yes. Right there. Please, baby. Fuck. Don’t stop,” you’re crying out as you as your walls clamp down around him. It’s like an explosion erupts inside of you and you feel that you perhaps are on another fuckin’ plane of existence from the way he makes you feel. 

Your eyes close again as he fucks you through your orgasm, taking you higher and higher. The way your walls are squeezing around him have him on edge and he gives you one, two, and then a third thrust before painting your walls with his release too.

He stops, resting his head on your back again, still buried all the way inside of you.

Both of your heavy pants fill the room, before you interrupt the status quo with a laugh. 

“Holy shit, babe,” you finally say, exasperated and completely fucked out.

He pulls out of you, and you have to put a hand down on the counter he just bent you over, for balance as you stand up straight. You can hear Carmen pulling his pants back up and you’re adjusting your dress as you turn to look at him. His eyes are fixed on the button of his trouser pants, as you grab his face for another long, lust-filled kiss. 

“What do you say… to getting out of here? Maybe continuing this at home?” you propose, your voice hoarse from what you’ve just done. Your forehead is still pressed to his and you want nothing more for him to say ‘yes.’ 

“Fuck yes. Please,” he practically groans, wondering how it’s possible for him to be hard again already. 

“I’ll order a car,” you agree, reaching for where you left your phone on the dressing room counter. 

“Surge rates, babe” he sighs, the disappointment evident in his voice as he issues the little reminder.

You shoot him a look that says ‘you’ve got to be fucking kidding me?’

“I will pay all the surge rates in the world, if I get to have you again, as soon as possible,” you state, and he’s not sure he’s going to be able to wait till you get home.

You glance back down to your phone, your fingers moving quickly through the right buttons to get a car on the way. As soon as you see the confirmation, your swiping out of the app, and over to an unread message:

Sydney: So that was weird. Where did you guys go?

You: Out for some air. Sorry, we’ll be right back in. 

Sydney: Angel wants pizza and a few of us are gonna go. Wanna come with?

You: Think we’re gonna head home. Breakfast tomorrow? My treat. 

Sydney: 100%

You: Congratulations again, friend. Love you. 

“What’s going on?” Carmy asks, as he sees you fiercely texting away. 

“Nothin’,” you answer, seeing the Uber notification popping up on your phone. “Just telling everyone we’re gonna head home.”

You turn your back to the mirror to examine the damage, immediately spotting Carmy’s bite mark on your shoulder. 

“Carmen,” you sigh, fingertips running over the huge bite mark on your shoulder – the one he left when he made while cumming inside of you.

Carmy takes a look, a small smirk on his lips as he sees what you’re referring to. He has to admit that he’s almost… proud of himself as he leans over, leaving a soft kiss against one of the rapidly forming purple bite marks left on the back of your shoulder. 

As much as he’d like to show the entire culinary world that you’re his, he removes the suit jacket he just put back on, and hands it to you. 

“Here. You can wear this.”

You giggle, taking it and appreciating Carmen’s act of chivalry. 

“As much as I’d love to do a walk of shame through a room full of the world’s best chefs… think I’ll keep this one between me and the one that just fucked me,” you joke playfully, as you kiss him as a ‘thank you.’

You check your reflection in the mirror as you drape the coat strategically over your shoulders, making sure you both look somewhat presentable enough to flee the scene with dignity. 

“Carm?” you ask. 

“Before we leave. I just-, I want you to-,” you stammer, uncertain if you’re doing the right thing by telling him. You’d hate to play into Nate’s little game – even if you both won after what just happened. 

“Hmm?”

“Just… you know… for the sake of factual accuracy and not that we’re playing Nate’s game at all but... you and I hooked up first. Nate just doesn’t know that.”

He nods in response, trying not to make it seem like a big deal. 

But it certainly makes him feel better.

“Well, if we’re being factually accurate…” he offers up in response. “I know you always thought our whole rivalry thing was one sided… but it wasn’t.”

“No?”

“Rode that guy as hard as I could, every chance I got,” he confesses, in reference to your old, very toxic work environment. 

“Because he deserved it?” 

“Because I hated how much he flirted with you.”

You shake your head with a small smile. Your phone is buzzing in your hand, letting you know that your Uber has arrived. 

“Let’s get the fuck out of here, Bear.”

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy x oc #the bear hulu #the bear fx #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #sydney adamu #make my heart surrender #carmy smut #carmy berzatto smut

[landofgay]

I looked thru that John Waters art book yesterday and now today my Syd Barrett art book has arrived. I'm Thriving

#this is the year i embrace buying $50+ books!!!! #the syd one cost us $100 actually after shipping and converting from £ to CAD #but like. so worth it #when i was in chapters i looked at so many art books and its amazing how some are so HUGE #and so many they keep packaged up cause ur not allowed to look thru them!!!!!!! grrr #some had display copies tho 😍 #anyways. i want more giant books thanks #i only didnt buy any cause. well. theyre expensive and huge. i cant gget that shit home #the only books i bought were that hunter s thompson book with all his writing from rolling stone #and that queer theory graphic novel ive been trying to read for 6 months now #if i dont have to return it to the library i can take as long as i want to read it!!!! #plus i learned the same people made one on gender too!!!!! which i almost bought but the one on the shelf had a damaged page :^( #and apparently one on feminism too but i am. less interested in it #altho considering they make books on queer theory and gender im sure it wont be TERF-y i just worry sometimes shsjfshsjfhdj #but anyways!!!!! time to educate myself on queer theory!!!! #my plan is to read the whole book and then make a list of stuff to read from the bibliography #and i wanna find more articles on punk theory too #im gonna find a way to connect the two and create a whole new theory that changes the world #godddd #anyways !!!!! #uh. the point was. art books !!!!!! #Syd Barrett my beloved 🥰 i am so so so so SO SO SO excited to look thru it. #his art!!!!! i finally get to see his art !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #and NEW PHOTOS 😍😍😍 #i hope they dont include photos post-breakdown tho they make me sad :^( i hate finding them #like not even sad to see him but just sad that they get taken. he always looks upset and uncomfortable #i wish people couldve just left him alone for the rest of his life ❤️ #anywaysssssss

[billybob598]

How Many People? (Sydney Lohmann x Reader)

I'm backkkkkk. My bad for not writing in like 2 weeks, but whatever. This was requested by an amazing anon. I hope you all enjoy it! My next fic is an Obi one so maybe I'll do that. I'm thinking of doing a part 2 to this in the near future. As always any feedback good or bad is welcomed! Have fun reading!

And shout out to @ares3460 @simp4panos @inlovewithwoso @wosofanstuff and the lovely 🧡 anon for helping me decide what kind of ending I should have

Word Count: 2.3K (Guys?!?!?!)

You watch fondly as Syndey runs around the paddock, taking pictures of everything she sees. While she had been to many races before, she just really loved Belgium for some reason. It could be that the track was nestled in the Ardennes forest or that the race was one of the most historic on the calendar. Whatever it was, Sydney was beyond excited to be there. She looked like a kid in a candy store the way her eyes darted around, taking everything in. You, on the other hand, were not that fazed by everything. Instead, you opt to stare at your girlfriend with heart eyes as you fall harder when you notice how happy she looks. Walking into the Williams garage, Sydney immediately seeks out Lily (our favourite WAG). They had become close friends as they watched you and Alex race around the track. 

The weekend forecast was less than ideal. Everyone is predicting heavy rainfall on both Saturday and Sunday. Even on Friday, the dark clouds sat overhead, putting everyone on edge. Everyone knew the dangers of racing around Spa in the wet. Lando had a massive crash in 2021 and tragically, Dilano Van’t Hoff passed away at Spa, also in the wet. When you heard about Dilano your heart broke. You had raced against each other back in your karting days and become good friends. He was destined to reach Formula 1, both of you had dreamed of driving alongside each other in the pinnacle of motorsport. Now, due to the FIA’s carelessness, your friend who deserved to be where you are today was gone. Racing at Spa in the wet scared you. Not that you would admit it to anyone, although Syndey had kind of figured it out. That’s when you know something is wrong, when a driver who is usually crazy and ready to do anything, fears for their life doing something they love. 

As you’re in your driver's room with your head in Syndey’s lap, her nails running softly through your hair, you can’t help but let your mind wander towards the conditions of the track. Your girlfriend notices the furrow of your eyebrows, indicating you’re in deep thought. 

“So you gonna tell me?” She asks gently.

“Hm?” You hum quietly back. She rolls her eyes good-naturedly.

“You gonna tell me what you’re thinking about?” Sydney says trying to coax an answer out of you.

“Oh, nothing. Just thinking about the rain and stuff,” you speak softly as the rain patters against the window. Once the words leave your mouth Syndey knows what you’re thinking about.

“You don’t want to race do you?” She says. 

“No, I mean, I don’t know. Of course I want to race, I love this track and I always want to race, but…” You trail off. Syndey stops her hand midway through your hair and raises her eyebrows in question. “But, it’s just, how many people have to die before they realize that it’s not safe in the wet?” You sigh out as tears threaten to fall out. The midfielder looks at you sympathetically before continuing her previous motion in an attempt to soothe you.

“If it’s really bad then tell them it’s not safe,” she shrugs.

“It’s not that simple, Syd. I can’t just go to the FIA and be like, ‘It’s raining too much, I’m terrified to put my foot on the accelerator, I think we should just cancel the entire weekend.’ I can’t do that.” She nods in understanding, opening her mouth to speak but is cut off when a loud knock brings the two of you out of your little world. 

“Mate, let’s go! Quali is in like 20 minutes and the engineers want to go over some data,” a voice says loudly from the other side of the door. Both of you sigh as you stand up. Slipping your arms into your overalls, Sydney stands up and places her hands on either side of your waist. You freeze your movements and look at her. She places a feather-light kiss on your lips, then on your cheek, then on your forehead. 

“Please, please be safe, liebe,” she mutters against your forehead. Trying your best to give her a reassuring smile you whisper against her neck,

“I will. I promise.”

Lily and Syndey cling to each other as the qualifying session progresses. Both of them praying that all twenty drivers survive the session unscathed. It doesn’t help that almost every other minute somebody new has gone for a joyride through the gravel or grass off the track. What does help is that both you and Alex Albon made it through to Q2. Your first lap in Q2 was solid, with a few moments here or there, but all together a relatively tidy lap. The lap put you P10; on the chopping block but you knew there was time to find so you weren’t necessarily worried. On the downside, the rain had only gotten heavier, opposite to what the radar suggested. Now, instead of only being on intermediates the teams and drivers had to make the switch to full wets. So, when you went back out for your second Q2 lap with four minutes left, it’s safe to say Syndey was scared shitless. 

“Okay so, we have a good gap to the car in front of us so there shouldn’t be any problems with traffic. Gap to P11 is .098, again gap to the elimination zone is .098,” your engineer informs you over the radio.

“Copy. Visibility is very, very poor. So is traction. I’ll go for it, though,” you respond. Mentally you lock in. You tune out all the other distractions and prepare to give it your all for one lap. However, you can’t shake this bad feeling sitting at the bottom of your stomach. As you slam your foot down on the gas pedal, a ton of water smacks against your visor. Leaving you practically blind. At this point, you're just driving on instinct and memory. Smoothly gearing down as you approach Turn 1, you slowly apply pressure to the brake being careful to not lock up and slide through the corner. You straight-line it as quickly as possible and make the run towards your favourite corner, but also the most dangerous one, Eau Rouge. Usually, in dry conditions, you would take this flat-out, with no hesitation. The thrill of nailing it at 300kph was something you could never get enough of. As you turn left slightly to begin your climb up the hill, you feel the back end slip out. Immediately, you try to correct it, quickly switching the steering wheel to the right. This only causes the rear wheels to lose even more traction. The car starts to spin around wildly. Then, it smashes into the barrier with such force that your helmet jerks forward, threatening to rip your head off from your neck. A searing pain makes its way through your neck and your ribs rattle from the impact. It’s only when hit another solid object that you realize that you’re still moving. The second impact is a lot less painful, but you still figure that you hit the barrier at around 180kph. Everything stops shaking for a second. The rain continues to pour all around you. Yellow flashing lights can barely be made out in your peripheral. Your internal organs start to reorganize back to normal when through the sound of rain spattering on the asphalt you hear the roar of an engine getting nearer. Then, everything goes black.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Williams garage is absolute chaos. Everyone is scrambling, trying to see if you’re okay if the ambulances are on their way, or trying to watch the replay of what happened. To Sydney, everything was happening in slow motion. The second Pierre Gasly’s Alpine collided with you, tears rolled down her face. Lily was also crying at the sight of your car broken in two. Out of the corner of her watering eye, Sydney could see your race engineer frantically repeating your name into his headset, trying desperately to get you to acknowledge him. Her head feels like it’s underwater with everyone's muffled voices. Her mind directly goes to the worst possible outcomes. All the negative thoughts swim around her brain for a few minutes until the wailing of the ambulance sirens breaks her out of her trance. Desperately, she looks at the cameras on the pit wall only to see that they have lost connection. After five more agonizing minutes that felt like hours, Sydney was informed by one of the team members that you were being airlifted to the nearest hospital. She was also told that they arranged a car to take her there. Lily refused to leave her side and slipped into the car with her, holding her hand as an act of comfort. Alex’s girlfriend also had the Sky Sports live coverage playing on her phone so they saw the camera zoom in on Alex’s wide eyes as the TV replayed your accident. It was like some sick joke the way your car just snapped in two like a twig. 

Finally, they arrived at the hospital, Sydney running through the rain towards the front desk. 

“I’m-I’m here for Y/N Y/L/N,” she pants out, her eyes watering and her clothes drenched making her quite the sight. The receptionist nods her head as she scrolls through her computer,

“Uh huh, Ms. Y/L/N is currently in surgery. You are welcome to sit in the waiting area,” the young lady says pointing towards a room full of chairs and concerned looking family members. The Bayern player mutters out a thank you before finding a seat. Lily comes in a few seconds later and sits in the chair beside Sydney.

“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Lily attempts to sooth your girlfriends nerves. She continues to talk about how you’re a fighter and how you’ll be fine, but this all goes in one of Syndey’s ears and out the other. After what felt like an eternity, but really closer to about an hour, a nurse comes into the waiting area saying your name. Instantaneously, Sydney shoots out of her seat and makes her way towards the nurse.

“Is she okay? What are her injuries? Oh God, please tell me she’s okay,” the young midfielder rants out quickly. Unfazed, the nurse replies,

“Relation to the patient?”

“Girlfriend.”

Sighing, the nurse looks down at her clipboard and starts to read,“Ms. Y/L/N suffered many injuries. Major trauma to the head, a collapsed lung, a broken leg, and severe damage to her spinal cord.” The tears threaten to fall once again as your girlfriend gets told the extent of your injuries. 

“Is she…Is she like stable?” Her bottom lip quivers. Again, the nurse sighs,

“She is in critical condition, currently she is hooked up to a heart monitor and an artificial ventilator to help her breathe.”

“Can I go see her?” The nurse nods before motiong to follow her.

“RIght now the doctor is just finishing up, but he will tell you more about Ms. Y/L/N’s condition.” They arrive at a brightly lit room, white covering every inch of the walls. Then, Sydney sees you. Your body laying limply on the hospital bed with what seems like a thousand different tubes and cords attached to you. You seem so small, your usually bright face now covered by an oxygen mask. The smile that can make anyone’s day better no where to be found. 

“Hi, I’m Dr. Khan, I’ll be overseeing Ms. Y/L/N for the next little while. Have you been briefed on her injuries yet?” Syndey tears her eyes away from you to see a tall man in a white lab coat talking to her. She nods in response to his question. “Perfect. Well, right now she is in critical condition. The next forty-eight hours or so will be crucial. If she makes it through the first couple days her chance at surviving and making a full recovery will greatly increase. I’ll give you some privacy now, but a nurse will be in to check on her every hour. If you need anything just give me a shout.” He then turns before briskly walking out of the room, leaving Sydney and your unconscious body alone. She takes a seat in a chair alongside of your bed. Her vision goes blurry as the tears flow freely,

“Y-Y/N, please d-don’t leave m-me,” she chokes out in between sobs, “I need yo-you. I don’t k-know what I’d do without you, please liebling.” 

For the next fifty minutes Sydney stays silent, her mind racing as her eyes rake over your body. The only thing brining her the slightest bit of comfort being the steady beep of your heartbeat on the monitor. Soon enough, a nurse comes in to check on you, inspecting all of the machines you’re hooked onto. Sydney for the most part ignores her, that is until a small curse leaves the womans mouth.

“What? What’s wrong?” She questions the woman. All of a sudden the nurse shouts for the doctor and presses a red button near your bedside. Within seconds Dr. Khan and more nurses come flooding into the room, one or two of them pulling Syndey out of the room. She tries to fight them, desperate to see what’s happening. 

“She’s gone into cardiac arrest!” Someone shouts. Her eyes widen as the words sink in. With one last tug from behind she’s taken completely out of the room. But, she sees one last thing before they slam the door shut in her face. 

The line on the heart monitor going completely flat.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #sydney lohmann x reader #sydney lohmann #gerwnt x reader #woso x f1 reader

[eachmostremembering]

like i have a lot of projects right now that are very romance-focused; there's the romance novel, the bear fic, the bear fic 2, the bear fic three, the bear fic 4, the a6 stuff i fuckin needed to finish two years ago, etc.

but like ngl the bear (and paterson) really got me renewed my belief in love again and that's great

#on writing #ella rambles #it's like it's about! gentleness! #quietness! #i should organize this #i want to have stuff done soon b/c i love having written so much #love having a little more of me in the world #i am fundamentally a speculative writer #i love secondary worlds #and like i will get to weimar faerie novel and make you a crown in 2024 #i am gonna do the work the rest of this year so i can take a fuckin break! i am so tired! i am so fucking tired #i just want to be doing better work #and it's gonna be beautiful. i can feel it. i'm gonna turn my world around. i'm gonna turn my world into beauty #like syd! #also not all the bear fic i write is syd/carm #but i think they're always in love somehow