writing, blurbs, etc

(you × Solek)

Story: A friend of yours kept her new born with you, cause she needed some time alone with her mate — The child wont stop crying all nigh

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You agreed too easily.

Your friend looked exhausted, hair messy, eyes pleading. “Just one night. I need time with him. Please.”

You smiled warmly. “Of course. Go.”

You had underestimated what “one night” meant.

The baby started crying before the sun fully set.

At first, you were calm. You rocked him gently. Whispered soft sounds. Tried feeding him.

He cried louder.

“It’s okay,” you murmured, bouncing him slightly. “You are safe.”

He was not convinced.

By midnight, your arms ached. Your hair was a mess. You had been peed on twice.

“Again?” you whispered in disbelief, staring at the damp cloth.

You changed him carefully, trying not to lose patience. The second you finished, he began crying again — louder this time.

You blinked at him, exhausted. “What do you want?”

The crying intensified.

By the time So’lek returned, the sound was echoing outside the hut.

He paused at the entrance.

For a brief second, genuine confusion crossed his face.

He actually stepped back and looked at the doorway, as if confirming it was his home.

Inside, you were pacing, baby in your arms, whispering half-coherent reassurances while looking seconds away from tears yourself.

He entered slowly. “Why is there a child here?”

You turned to him with wild eyes. “Don’t ask.”

The baby wailed louder.

So’lek blinked once. “Did we…?”

“No!” you snapped, then softened immediately. “It’s not ours.”

He looked mildly relieved — then concerned again.

You shoved the baby gently into his arms. “Here. Try.”

He stiffened instinctively. “I am not trained for this.”

“Neither am I!”

The baby continued crying.

So’lek stood there awkwardly at first — holding the tiny body like it might explode. Then, hesitantly, he adjusted his grip, bringing the child closer to his chest.

His voice dropped, deeper and steadier. “Enough.”

It wasn’t harsh.

Just firm.

The baby hiccupped mid-cry.

You stared.

So’lek shifted slightly, rocking once. “You are loud.”

The baby sniffled.

Silence.

You both froze.

The crying stopped.

You blinked in disbelief. “Are you serious?”

He looked equally surprised. “I did nothing.”

“You said one word.”

He glanced down at the now-quiet infant. “He listened.”

You slumped down in relief. “I have been fighting for hours.”

So’lek carefully handed the baby back once he was calm. “You are exhausted.”

“Yes.”

He studied you for a moment — damp clothes, messy hair, drained expression.

“You would be a fierce mother,” he said quietly.

You stared at him.

“Fierce?” you echoed.

“You did not give up.”

Your exhaustion softened into something warmer.

The baby stirred again.

You both stiffened.

“Do not,” you warned softly.

The baby whimpered — but did not resume crying.

You exhaled slowly.

For the rest of the night, you and So’lek took turns. And though neither of you admitted it aloud, there was something unexpectedly intimate about surviving that chaos together.

and so’lek would never openly challenge torok makto, he fought with him, for him. but he’s getting very close to it when jake gives you a smile, hand on your back as you show him around base

he’s always hated dream walkers, everything about the sky people make his palms itch. a reminder of all that came before and was lost because of them. but you, why are you so different? why does his jaw clench when he sees you stand with another male too close? when you smile at anyone but him?

“oh! this is where we debrief.” you grin, leading him to the central station

jake hums, “good work.”

“learned from the best.”

he gives a lazy smile back, smug. “you know it.”

so’lek watches from the far corner of the room, silent and unmoving. you have history, he can tell, but what kind alludes him. you aren’t exactly the most open person and he doesn’t blame you. he needs to know.

your history with jake is a messy one. you butted heads every second of his avatar training. you were like norm, training your whole life for this chance. but things change fast, and you followed him to war. close quarters in the mountains get handsy, but that was a long time ago, right?

jake, who doesn’t miss the stagnant expressions so’lek gives when he speaks standing next to you. he recognizes respect, but he is no fool to the building tension. things will boil over sooner or later. it’s just a matter of who snaps first

it seems like you are completely unaware, frolicking through the grass and zipping on your ikran with the both of them

Female!Sully!reader x Sully family

Summary: You are the eldest daughter, Neteyam’s twin sister, the one who always stood shoulder to shoulder with him to protect the others. But when the bullets fly, it isn’t the Golden Boy who gets hit. It’s you.

Warnings: Death, heavy angst, descriptions of blood/wounds, grief.

જ⁀➴

The air smelled of burning fuel and salt. It was a sensory overload ,the screaming of the Tulkun, the mechanical whine of the RDA ships, and the thundering beat of your own heart against your ribs.

"Go,Go, go!" Neteyam’s voice was barking over the chaos. You were right beside him. As always. That was the deal. You came into this world holding hands, the firstborn twins of Toruk Makto, and you moved through life as a single unit. Two halves of the same spear,as your grandmother called it.

You grabbed Spider, shoving him toward the railing, checking over your shoulder for Lo’ak. "Move, Lo’ak! do not look back!" you screamed, your voice cracking from the smoke.

Just then the RDA soldiers on the upper deck opened fire. The sound was deafening. Bullets ripped through the metal railing, sending sparks showering down like angry fireflies. You saw Lo’ak flinch, saw Neteyam duck. Instinct took over ,You didn't think twice. You just moved. You shifted your weight, throwing yourself into the space between the muzzle flashes and your brothers.

…

It wasn't a loud noise. It was a dull, wet thud. Like a stone hitting thick mud. The impact spun you around, a burst of white ,hot shock hitting your chest, but the adrenaline was so high you barely registered it as pain. It felt like a heavy punch. You gasped, the air catching in your throat, but you forced your legs to work.

"Jump!" Neteyam roared.

You dove after him. The cool embrace of the water usually felt like home, like Eywa’s arms, but today it felt heavy. You kicked hard, your tail swishing frantically to propel you deep, away from the surface fire.

Swim, you told yourself. Just swim to the rocks.But your limbs felt like they were filled with sand. every stroke was a labor. You surfaced behind the jagged rocks, gasping for air that didn't seem to want to fill your lungs.

Neteyam popped up first, shaking the water from his braids, his golden eyes wide . He immediately scanned the group. "Lo’ak? Spider? You guys good?"

"Yeah bro," Lo’ak panted, clinging to the rock. "Yeah, we’re clear."

Neteyam turned to you. His grin was breathless, fueled by the survival high. "that was too close. You okay, sister?"

You tried to smile back. You tried to give him that signature smirk, the one that said I’m invincible, but your lips felt numb. You pulled yourself up onto the rock, intending to stand, but your knees buckled. "I think..." You wheezed, your hand moving to your chest. Your fingers came away wet. Not with seawater.

The bioluminescent dots on your skin were stained dark. A thick, crimson slick was spreading across your chest, coating your tactical vest, dripping onto the grey stone.

Neteyam’s smile didn’t just fade; it shattered. "Y/N?"

"I..." You looked down, confusion swirling in your darkening vision. "I think I got hit."

The silence that fell over the boys was louder than the battle behind you.

"No, no, no." Neteyam scrambled over the rocks, his hands hovering over you, terrified to touch, terrified not to. "Lo’ak, help me! Apply pressure! Now!"

You slumped back against the stone, the sky above you spinning in dizzying circles. Lo’ak was there, his hands pressing down on your chest. He was crying. Why was he crying?

As they applied pressure on wound you cried out, a weak, strangled sound. It burned. Eywa, it burned. It felt like someone had shoved a hot coal into your lungs.

"Sorry, sorry, I know, I know," Neteyam sobbed, tears cutting tracks through the war paint on his face. "Just breathe, sister. Just breathe for me."

"I... I can't..." You gasped, your eyes fluttering. The stars above looked blurry. "Teyam... it’s cold."

"You are okay,you are going to be okay." He leaned over you, his braid falling onto your cheek. "Dad! Dad, help!"

The sound of a skimwing screeching overhead tore through the air. You saw the shadow of the Tsurak, and then the heavy thud of your father landing.

"Neteyam! Y/N!" Jake’s voice was commanding, angry, until he saw it.

He saw the blood pooling on the black rock. He saw his two sons holding his eldest daughter, their hands soaked with blood.

"Dad..." Neteyam looked up, his expression broken. "I can't stop it. Dad, I can't stop it."

Jake dropped to his knees.

"Let me see, let me see," Jake said, his voice forcibly calm, though his hands shook as he replaced Neteyams hands with his."I’ve got you. I’ve got you, babygirl."Jake’s voice was trembling in a way you had never heard before. He scooped you up, his large arms cradling you against his chest. "Hang on. Stay with me. Eyes on me, Y/N."

He placed you on the flat expanse of the rock where the family was gathering. The world was tilting.

Neytiri landed on the rock a second later, her bow in hand, fury in her eyes until she saw you. The fury vanished, replaced by a horror so raw it felt like a physical blow. She dropped her bow.

"No..." She fell to her knees beside you, her hands immediately going to the wound, covering Jake’s. "No, no, Great Mother, no..."

She grabbed your face, her hands frantic, stroking your cheeks, your forehead."Evi(child)... my baby, my girl..." Her eyes were wide, frantic, searching yours for a spark that was rapidly fading. "Look at Mother. Look at Mother!"

"Mom..." You tried to smile. You wanted to tell her it was okay. You wanted to tell her you saved Lo’ak. You did your job. You protected the family.

"I... I want to go home," you whispered. The words felt thick in your mouth.

Neytiri let out a sob that wrecked her throat. "Yes, yes, we go home. We go home soon."

"Stay with us, babygirl," Jake commanded, but his voice broke. He was crying. Your strong, invincible father was crying. "Focus on me, Strong heart,You have a strong heart."

But the heart was slowing down.

You looked past your parents, locking eyes with Neteyam. Your twin. Your other half. He was gripping your hand so hard it hurt, his forehead pressed against your knuckles.

You have to lead them now, you thought, projecting it to him as hard as you could. You have to be the strong one alone. I'm sorry.

"Ma Teyam..." you breathed.

"I'm here. I'm right here," he choked out, squeezing your hand. "I’m not leaving you."

The edges of your vision turned black. The pain was receding, replaced by a vast, watery silence. It felt like diving. It felt like connecting to the Spirit Tree.

"I see..." you whispered, your eyes fixing on something none of them could see. "I see... Her."

Your chest hitched once. Twice.

And then, nothing.

The scream that tore from Neytiri’s throat silenced the battle.

It was a wail of such primal agony that even the ocean seemed to still. She collapsed over your chest, burying her face in your neck, rocking back and forth, keening, begging Eywa to give it back, to give you back.

"No! No, no, no!" Neteyam was hitting the rock, screaming, his composure utterly destroyed. He grabbed your shoulders, shaking you gently, as if he could wake you up from a nap. "Wake up! Y/N, wake up!"

Lo’ak stood frozen, tears streaming down his face, staring at blood his hands.

Jake sat back on his heels. He looked hollowed out. He looked old. He reached out, placing a hand on Neteyam’s back to stop him from shaking your body, and then he pulled Neytiri against him, though she fought him, clinging to your shirt.

Moment later Jake looked up, his eyes hardening, the grief turning into a cold, dark rage. He reached out, touching Neytiri’s shoulder, then Neteyam’s. But his gaze was fixed on the ship in the distance.

He stood up, checking his weapon. The tears were still falling, but his face was stone.

He turned Neytiri towards him “we have to be strong for our kids, for our daughters”

Neytiri stood up emotionless picking up her bow ,ready for revenge.

Jake turned to his son, "Neteyam," he said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "Stay back with your brother ."

"No," Neteyam stood up. His eyes were red, wild, filled with the same dark promise as his father’s. He looked down at your body one last time, wiping a smudge of blood from your cheek. "No, sir."

He picked up his knife.

"I’m coming with you."

જ⁀➴

….The air around Neteyam was crisp and cool, smelling of damp earth and moss. The floating mountains of Pandora hung in the mist around him. He looked down and saw his hands, free of the scars he’d collected over the years. He looked at his mount. It wasn't the skimwing he had mastered, but his Ikran.

And just then, he heard it. The sound that haunted his dreams. Sound that he missed dearly.

A sharp, and familiar joyful yip.

Neteyam wipped his head to his left ,There you were.

You were diving through a cloud bank, your Ikran’s wings tucked tight against your body. You looked exactly as you did the day you left the forest ,eyes bright with mischief, alive. So painfully, beautifully alive.

"Keep up, skxawng!" you laughed, the sound vibrating in his chest like a struck bell.

"Y/N!" Neteyam shouted, the name tearing out of his throat. He kicked his heels into his Ikran’s sides, diving after you.

For a moment, the war didn't exist. The RDA, the ash people, the grief ,everything was gone. It was just the two of you.

You leveled out, catching an updraft, and he pulled up right beside you. You flew wingtip to wingtip, so close he could almost reach out and grab your arm. You turned your head and grinned at him, that same smile that he hadn't seen in a mirror for so long.

"You're slow today," you teased, banking hard to the right, leading him on a chase through the stone arches.

He followed you effortlessly. He knew your moves before you made them. It was a dance you had perfected since you were children. He mirrored your dip, your roll, the way you let go of the reins and threw your arms out to embrace the wind.

Finally, you both landed on a high cliff overlooking the vast green canopy of the Omatikaya forest.

You hopped off your Ikran with that graceful bounce, turning to face him. But Neteyam stumbled as he dismounted. He didn't care about the view. He rushed toward you, crashing into you, wrapping his arms around you so tight it would have hurt if this were real.

You froze for a second, then softened, your arms coming up to hold him back. "Hey... hey. I've got you brother." He buried his face in your neck, inhaling the scent of you, He was shaking. "I miss you. I miss you so much it hurts to breathe."

"I know," you whispered, stroking his hair. "I’m with you, Brother. Always." He pulled back, gripping your shoulders, his golden eyes searching yours. The joy of the flight was fading, replaced by the crushing reality of why he was here. "Why did you do it?" he asked, his voice cracking. Your smile faded gently. You didn't pretend not to understand. "Do what?" ,"You took the bullet," Neteyam said, the anger finally bubbling up ,anger at himself. "It was meant for me, You took it for me, You... you stupid skxawng." Tears spilled over his lashes. "I’m the oldest. By three minutes. It was my job to protect you."

You sighed, reaching up to cup his face. Your hands were warm. "We were partners, remember? Two halves. One spear." "The spear is broken without you," he choked out. "No," you said firmly, your thumb brushing away a tear on his cheek. "It’s just got sharper."

You stepped back, looking out over the forest, your expression wise beyond your years. "I didn't think, ma Teyam. I just moved. I saw the fire, I saw our brothers... and my body just knew what to do. I didn't choose to leave you. I chose to save who i love."

"But it’s not fair," Neteyam argued, his voice dropping to a broken whisper. "I’m down there, and I’m trying to be strong for Dad, trying to keep Lo’ak from doing something stupid, trying to comfort Mom... and I’m alone. I turn to tell you something, and you’re not there."

"I am there," you insisted. You stepped closer, pressing your hand flat against his chest, right over his heart. "I am right here. Every time you draw a bow, I’m aiming with you. Every time you fly, I’m the wind under your wings. You are living for both of us now, brother."

Neteyam covered your hand with his own. "I don't want to live for both of us. I want you next to me, i want our full family back."

"But we cant always have what we want can we?," you said softly, sad but accepting. "But you have them. Our little sisters and brothers. They need you. They need Neteyam."

The wind picked up, tugging at your braids. The light around the edges of the cliff began to fade, the violet bioluminescence of the real world bleeding into the dream. "I have to go," he whispered, panic rising in his chest. "I don't want to go."

"You have to," you smiled, and this time, it was the proud smile of a sister looking at a warrior. "Go be Toruk Makto’s son. Go help our family finish this war.”

You stepped back toward your Ikran. "Come back and fly with me when the war is done. But not yet. Not yet, Neteyam."

"I love you,sister" he called out, the world dissolving into white mist.

You mounted your Ikran, looking back over your shoulder, your silhouette glowing against the sun.

"I see you, Brother."…………

જ⁀➴

drawers open and close, shoes shuffle toward the door, and the click of his belt buckle echoes in the quiet. you drag yourself out of bed and lean against the doorframe, still in your sleep shirt, your hair a mess. you watch him as he finishes getting ready: dark pants on, shirt half-tucked, his hair already a little wild.

he glances over, tight little frown like he’s trying to be good. “mornin’,” he says, already reaching for his jacket.

“mornin’,” you echo, soft, coy, and when he looks back you give him that look. one that makes his jaw clench, because he knows exactly what you’re thinking.

“nah, babe, i can’t. i really can’t–gotta be on time. deliveries, new people, all that shit, okay?” he’s trying to sound firm, but his eyes already betray him, flicking down your bare legs.

you just smirk. three steps and you’re close enough that he can smell your skin, warm from sleep. you hook your fingers at the hem of your sleep shirt and tug it up, over your head in one fluid motion. for someone who just woke up, you move so fucking gracefully it knocks the breath out of carmen.

his eyes go wide for a second, then dark, heavy, glued to your tits like he never stood a chance. and you know it, too. know the way he always goes stupid for you the second you bare yourself to him. so you tilt your head, lips curving into a pout that’s more weapon than plea, using every ounce of his weakness against him.

“i’ll be quick.”

“you’re never quick,” he says, but his voice cracks a little, betrays him.

“then that’s on you,” you tease. “not me.”

and yeah, he should walk away, he wants to walk away, but you’ve got that smile, that determination, and he’s helpless against it.

you’re on your knees before he can tell you no again, fingers at his belt, tugging his pants down just enough. his half-protest dies in his throat the second you lick along the head, teasing.

it’s easier now, practiced, the way you take him into your mouth. still hungry, still greedy, but smoother, and he notices it: the way you’ve been learning him. and god, he’s never felt heat as good as the heat of your mouth, the wet slide of your tongue, the way you look up at him like you own him this way.

he braces his hand on the wall, his other buried in his hair, dragging it back, muttering, “y'gonna make me late.”

you hum around him, glancing up with that playful, knowing look, and his head tips back. “fuck–don’t-don’t look at me like that—” he stammers, because it feels too good. too much too fast. 

he already knows he won’t be able to think straight the rest of the day.

your own hand slips between your thighs as you work him, fingers finding that slick, aching spot. every stroke of his cock in your mouth makes your hips twitch, makes your fingers circle harder. your lips are wet, mouth stretched around him, breath hot and messy against his skin. he finally caves, threading his fingers through your hair, hips stuttering like he can’t stop himself.

“god, baby, you–fuck–we should stop, i have to–” but his voice is breaking apart, every moan raw and needy. he knows this is why he’s lighter at work lately, why the new hires smile at him more, why sydney doesn’t have to dodge his sharpness so much. because of you. because you do this to him.

carmy gasps when you swallow him deeper, when your free hand cradles him at the base, when you moan against him like you want him to hear how badly you need it, too. his thighs tense, his head falls forward, and when he finally comes, it’s with a strangled, desperate sound, hot and heavy down your throat.

you don’t stop, not until you’ve swallowed him down greedy, not until you pull off with a loud, wet pop—obvious, deliberate, obscene. his cock twitches at the sound, and you smile up at him, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand like it’s nothing.

he’s staring at you, chest heaving, hair a mess from where he’s dragged his hands through it.

“baby,” he breathes, dazed, looking down at you. “you’re— fuck, you’re somethin’ else.”

and you laugh, licking your lips, smug as hell. “you should be thanking me, carm. pretty sure your whole staff should be, too.”

“You know,” he murmured, voice low and fond, “you’re the only one who gets the VIP wing treatment.”

You smiled against him, fingers curling in his shirt. “Guess I’m special, huh?”

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, wings tightening in a gentle squeeze. “Special doesn’t even begin to cover it, sugar.”

Summary: Character requested by @a-folkwhore. After cancelling every dinner date one week, you finally get frustrated and are very keen to let him know.

Masterlist

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

It had been a week of canceled plans. Seven long days of you waiting outside the precinct, only to get a last-minute text or a quick apology as Fin dashed off to handle yet another case. You understood, his job was demanding, and people’s lives depended on him, but understanding didn’t make the disappointment sting any less. By Friday night, your patience had run out.

Standing outside the precinct once again, you felt the frustration bubbling inside you. The city was alive around you, its usual energy doing little to calm the storm in your chest. When the door finally opened and Fin stepped out, you didn’t greet him with your usual smile.

“Another night, huh?” you said, crossing your arms. Your tone was sharper than you intended, but you couldn’t help it. “What’s the excuse this time?”

Fin stopped in his tracks, his brows furrowing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” you snapped, “that I’m tired of being stood up. Every single night this week, Fin. Every night. Do you know how that feels?”

He sighed, running a hand over his face. “Look, I’m sorry. Things have been crazy with the cases lately. You know that.”

“I do know that,” you shot back. “But do you know what I want? Just one night. One dinner. One conversation that doesn’t end with you running off to chase down some perp. Is that really too much to ask?”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he was going to walk away. Instead, he turned to face you fully, his eyes narrowing. “You think I like canceling on you? You think I enjoy this? This job… it’s not nine to five. It’s not predictable. People’s lives are on the line, and I can’t just clock out because you want a burger.”

The words stung, but you refused to back down. “It’s not just about the burger, Fin. It’s about feeling like I matter. Like I’m not just some afterthought you squeeze in between cases. I get it, your job is important, but… so am I.”

For a moment, the two of you stood there, the weight of your words hanging in the air. Finally, Fin’s expression softened, and he let out a heavy sigh.

“You’re right,” he said quietly. “You do matter. More than I probably let on. I… I’m sorry. I’ve been so caught up in everything, I didn’t realize how much I’ve been letting you down.”

The sincerity in his voice made your anger melt away, replaced by a pang of guilt. “I’m sorry, too. I know your job isn’t easy. I just… I miss you, Fin.”

He stepped closer, his gaze steady. “I’ve been wanting to take you to this diner for weeks. Best greasy burgers in the city. It’s my favorite spot, and I’ve been saving it for a night we could actually enjoy it. Let me make it up to you. Tonight. No excuses.”

You hesitated, studying his face. He looked tired, but there was a determination in his eyes that you couldn’t ignore. Finally, you nodded. “Okay. But if you cancel on me again, I’m not waiting outside. I’m coming in there and dragging you out myself.”

A small smile tugged at his lips. “Fair enough. Now come on. Let me show you what you’ve been missing.”

The walk to the diner was quieter than usual, but the tension between you had eased. By the time you reached the small, cozy spot, the smell of sizzling beef and fresh fries was enough to make you forget your frustration entirely. The waitress greeted Fin like an old friend, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“This your usual haunt?” you asked as you slid into the booth across from him.

“Something like that,” he said, shrugging. “Figured I’d finally share it with you.”

The food arrived quickly, and the first bite of the burger was enough to make you let out an involuntary hum of approval. Fin watched you with a smug expression, leaning back in his seat.

“Told you,” he said. “Best burgers in the city.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t hide your smile. “Alright, you win. But don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late,” he replied, his tone teasing.

As the night went on, the two of you fell into your usual rhythm, the earlier argument fading into the background. You joked, teased, and laughed, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt like you had Fin all to yourself.

When you finally left the diner, the city was quieter, the streets bathed in the soft glow of streetlights. Fin slipped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.

“Thanks for putting up with me,” he said. “I know I’m not the easiest person to be with.”

“You’re worth it,” you replied, leaning into him. “Just don’t forget to let me know every once in a while that I’m worth it, too.”

He stopped walking, turning to face you. “You are. More than you know. And I’ll do better. I promise.”

The sincerity in his voice made your chest ache in the best way. You smiled, reaching up to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

“Good. Now, let’s get you home before another case pops up and ruins the moment.”

warning - p links! dni if uncomfortable.

richie jerimovich x fem!reader

warning! must be logged into twt/x for you to see the links :p

incl ⤷ rough + unprotected sex, oral, slapping, choking, size kink, clit rubbing, spanking, eating it from the back, fingering, public sex (voyeurism?), threesome + double penetration, anal sex, lmk if i missed any.

RICHIE JERIMOVICHִ໋˚ ༘ ⋆｡

⤷ “you’re fuckin’ perfect, sweetheart.”

⤷ just the tip! (not clickbait)

⤷ he’s tired after work but he wants you more.

⤷ richie won’t admit he’s jealous but there will be signs.

⤷ prone-bone with richie :ppp

⤷ he knows you’re stressed and pent up so he has to help his girl out :(

⤷ a nice rest in the park to spend the day off!

BONUS

Jeremy Allen White as Carmen “Carmy” Berzatto

Warnings: smut, car sex, oral (f receiving), handjob, penetration (p in v), public sex (it happens in a parking lot so yeah i guess), no use of y/n, mutual pinning, cursing, kissing, dirty talk, female anatomy, male anatomy.

Word count: 4K (idk how that happened, i swear it's worth it 😅)

There were about a thousand other things Carmen should’ve been doing right now.  The restaurant was still made up of tarps and chunks of wood and debris. He needed to call a plumber. And an electrician. And a builder.  He needed to figure out the menu. Get the staff. Handle the permits.  There were a million other things he should be doing.

But he wasn’t.

In fact, he wasn’t anywhere near the restaurant.