#'now we don't have time to unpack all of that but by god we will get there'
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Damn... Learning about my past through a crazy ex childhood friend's ex was not on my 2024 bingo card...
nw they don't use tumblr, they don't even know what tumblr is so, i'm just gonna vent here for 2 secs because holy shit...
It's just so weird to have to continue life as if everything's normal OTL
I swear to god my life feels like a movie sometimes-- does that happen to everyone?!
Gonna spare the really fucked up details, but basically, an old gang of 6 friends and I (minus the crazy one), have finally reunited yesterday. It had been a year since we didn't see each other, but yesterday, ouhhh so many dark confessions happened OTL
There's a lot to unpack here, but for short, that crazy ex childhood friend had insanely awful jealousy problems and it consumed her. At first she looked fine, but with time it was clear that she was also obsess with men's attention and unfaithful and flirted with her ex's best friend or any guys...
She wanted us to guess how she felt and what she wanted us to do for her, without telling us. She was the one causing huge drama all the time, but she was still somehow the victim...
Basically, that person who once brought all of us together, managed to ruin all of her relationship with all 6 of us. Now we all came back together and our disdain for her, has only brought us closer...
All this situation shocks me, because that ex friend used to tell me how much she was so scared to end up alone... Then she spent months and months making me feel horrible and rejected and hated. She also told me many times how ''her traumas and problems were worst than mine''...
At some point, I finally cut ties with her for good, but I was worry she put up everyone else against me, so I left and didn't want to cause trouble for the rest of the gang.
She was really keeping us altogether out of fear of ending up alone, rather than keeping us altogether out of love...
But now, I guess... Look at who's ended up all alone afterall.
I'm so happy we finally told each other and now, we can all start healing together... It means so much to realized that all this time, they actually never wanted me to leave because of the other crazy fucked up one, but they were too scared of her reaction... They even told me yesterday how they want me back and they want me to stay... Ugh, my heart OTL
We were all too nice to say anything, and in the process we let her hurt us.
But yeah, I guess... Really do be careful who you let in your life OTL Some ppl really do are fake friends and they hate you with a passion but they will still keep you around because they got nobody else.
#random#delete later#long post#some ppl really do live like that?!#i'm#i'm shocked but not really at the same time#i feel so naive and dumb to have believed in our friendship#she kinda did me dirty when we were kids but then i thought she had changed a an adult#but i guess some things never change#i rly admire ppl who say no
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any time i start with a new therapist there is a period where i am basically the embodiment of that gina meme from brooklyn 99
#'now we don't have time to unpack all of that but by god we will get there'#'i have SO many questions' said with the despair of realizing there are like 2 minutes left in the session#i'm like therapist bait i have 99 problems and they are fascinated by all of them#anyway i like my new shrink tho#for the usual questionnaire stuff before the first session i answered in my usual manner#basically how i talk here with snark and self-deprecation in an entertaining way but with better punctuation#and we started and she was like#'so this may sound weird because it was about all of your issues but i really enjoyed reading it'#me a writer: no no this is my dream#i am getting a good grade in both patient AND writing which is normal to want and clearly possible to achieve
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#idk it's just really frustrating to think that people will ALWAYS make allowances for people they're romantically in love with but#not make those same allowances for someone else they otherwise care about.#that people will risk things for their partners that they wouldn't for their friends#that it's EXPECTED for you to prioritize your spouse/significant other/etc. at all times but prioritizing your friend(s) is rarely even#considered. and when you're like me and you LITERALLY CANNOT DO THIS SHIT BY YOURSELF...#like I know I go on and on about marrying some theoretical woman all the time (and my ongoing...whatever this is. with Musician Guy)#but genuinely I'm not even sure that I want that I think I just want someone who will fucking visit me in the hospital if I get into a car#crash or fix me soup when I'm sick.#like...yeah. in that one story I wrote I think I distilled it down: we all just want someone to hold us when we're sad#and it SUCKS that the only avenue we seem to be allowed to pursue that is through a romantic relationship#right now I have my dad but if something happens to him...I genuinely do not know what I'm going to do. I'll have nowhere to go#if something terrible happens. I'll have no one to help me be a person. and I just. like I really am going to just have to power through#the next 60 years on this fucking planet alone and by god I'll fucking do it but I wish I didn't have to!!!!#and I think this was why the loss of Her™ friendship (which was necessary. for both of us) was so acutely painful. because even after#she got married she WAS willing to prioritize me when things got bad enough. she DID genuinely care about me in a way I don't think#anyone ever has. and I just really don't think I'll ever find that ever again. and I can't go back and I don't WANT to be with her anymore#but it was this time of the year when she told me she was getting married way back when and my brain has kept that like the World's Worst#Anniversary and all of those terrible ugly feelings are coming back in full force and I HATE that I'm still unpacking this I. HATE. that#this not-even-relationship is STILL doing this to me#WHAT THE FUCK!!! IS UP WITH THAT!!!!!!#*sigh* okay for REAL I am logging off right now because I've already said Too Many Embarrassing Personal Things about myself today#and I do not want to put myself in a position to say anymore!#In the Vents#GOD this is so stupid IT'S NOT LIKE SOMEBODY DIED WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS
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Crowley is Lucifer
(Ok I know some of you don't believe this theory but I highly suggest you give this a quick read anyway. I tried to make it short and easy and I'll be going chronologically, from s1 all through s2)
- First, let's get this out of the way, Lucifer and Satan aren't neccesarilly the same person. Even in the show the devil that appeared in s1 has only ever been reffered to as Satan, not even once as Lucifer.
- In the bible Lucifer was the one to tempt Eve with the apple, and who do we know that does that in the show. Crowley is literally THE snake from Eden.
- An obvious one perhaps, but the red hair is also a giveaway
- In the bible Jesus was tempted by the devil for 30 days, in the show Crowley says "I showed him all the kingdoms of the world", so that's another role Lucifer has that Crowley had in the show
- It's well known (even mentioned in the Sandman) that Lucifer was the most beautiful of all angels, and our demon is played by no other than David Tennant
Now on to season 2 because there's a LOT to unpack here
- He litterally started the engine of the universe which was one of Lucifers roles
- He's the first to say "let there be light", which is pretty fucking huge since that is Gods line
- "I worked closely with upstairs on it" even in the first scene they're telling us Crowley is an angel of very very high rank
- He fell for asking questions, which is litterally what Lucifer fell for, for questioning God. This in and of itself should be a pretty big indicator. "I only ever asked questions"
- Shax: "a miracle of enourmous power only the mightiest of archangels can perform"
Crowley: "How do you know I didn't do it"
And Shax just... doesn't counter that. She looks even skeptical, as if it COULD be a possibility, unlike Uriel who says to Aziraphale don't excpect us to believe you did it. Shax litterally doesn't shut the option down which confirms Crowley has the power not only of an archangel but of the mightiest kind
- In the bookshop with Gabriel/Jim he says "I don't remember. It [gravity] seemed like a good idea when we were all talking about it"
- "You're welcome to come in, you might even spot an archangel" don't tell me this was Crowley just egging Shax on and not being sneaky
- The fact that he could sense the demons coming. "Somethings wrong""It's coming in waves", when Aziraphale couldn't. It could be a demon thing but we saw Sandalphon, an archangel of lower rank, in the first season mention "something smells evil" so obviously angels can sense demons too, they just have to be powerful enough. And keep in mind Sandalphon was already in the book shop for quite some time, Crowley sensed them even before they had arrived (he also sensed the hell hound who was some fucking miles away)
- The.fucking.folder. "You have to be a throne or dominion above" and this dude opens these clasified documents like it's nothing. If this isn't an indicator of his high position as an angel I don't know what is.
- He's worked with Saraqael, another very high ranking angel
- "I'm the only first order archangel in the room"... and the camera imediately pans to Crowley, and for anyone who's read the book and watched the show you know that rarely anything is coincidental
- When the Metatron says they can't lose another prince of heaven. This... this fucking line. So it's relatively well known that Gabriel and Lucifer are brothers, and if Gabriel is one of the princes of heaven I wonder who the other one could be. "Two princes of heaven". And the Metatrons words were very careful, he doesn't say lost as in heaven can't find him, he says it in the context that they won't be sending Gabriel to hell since they won't lose another prince to downstairs
- In the bookshop when no one can identify the Metatron he turns to Crowley who imediately recognises him. Now you have this dude, who's literally on top of the angel hierarchy and is responsible for running heaven and the connection to God themself, surrounded by archangels and a principality you spoke to face to face with just a few years ago and... none of them can tell who you are, the only one who does is the literal demon. That tells us that Crowley has not only seen him in this form, but has probably worked with the Metaron himself personally. "Always asking damn fool questions", 10 million angels and he remembers what this one particular angel was like 6000 years ago
- Crowley is also very reluctant to reveal his identity as an angel. Now if he were just an ordinary angel of no real significance he wouldn't have a problem revealing his name, but... if his name was one that's the literal representation of all evil in this world, then it is understandable he keeps it a secret, in fear he might scare Aziraphale away
- And I wanted to leave the best for last. So you remember in the book when Crowley has to sign his name to start Armaggedon, and Hastur tells him "no, your real name" after which he reluctantly writes it. Now in the book we never see him write anything, but in the show we see him write a sygil, something that looks very mich like an L. An L... A FUCKING L. And now I wonder how this theory didn't come up sooner.
(Also he can fucking stop time, like dafuq)
Edit:
- "Oh looky here it's Lucifer and the guys" we all thought he was talking about someone else, he's just refferencing things other angels have said about HIM. FUCK
- I keep seing people saying Crowleys memories were wiped because he couldn't remember Saraqael and Furfur. But I think people forget, demons lie. He's lying to make them think he's not that angel they worked with, that he's not Lucifer. (In season 1 we hear him a few times refferencing his life as an angel, so he does remember most of it)
- Also saying if the Raphael theory were true then as showrunners they would have mentioned him somewhere for those not that familiar with the bible (or don't read much fanfiction). The refferences for Crowleys past are so so vague that it would be too sudden and confusing if he were Raphael. But there is one name that everyone is familiar with, no matter who you are how old you are or where you're from, a name that needs no introduction.
Edit 2:
- Back to him being the most beautiful angel, I don't think it was ever quite explained how every single demon when they're in hell looks... awful, but Crowley doesn't. Beelzebub has the spores all over their face, Hastur the maggots and the sh-, Dagon the scales etc. But Crowley doesn't, not even when he's in hell, he's always just so, well, pretty.
- I saw a few people asking about how Lucifer started the rebellion and Crowley wouldn't do that. I think it's the same Crowley who wouldn't get stuck in traffic after creating the M25, or the same Crowley that wanted to call Aziraphale after bringing down the entire London network, "you told them you invented the spanish inquisition, and started the second world war""so the humans beat me to it that's not my fault", "so all this is your demonic work?""no, the humans thought it up themselves nothing to do with me"
- Also I think Satan's in charge of hell not Crowley the same way the Metatron's in charge of heaven and not Gabriel (and who can very easily demote angels if he so wishes)
Edit 3:
- like some of you pointed out Lucifer is also known/means Light-bringer. And Crowley was the first to say "let there be light."
- The file he opens with Muriel is Gabriels file, a class A archangel, so if he knows the password to that it means that either he's on the same level as Gabriel, or above him.
#crowley is lucifer#goodomenss2#crowley#goodomens#aziraphale#good omens#ineffable husbands#aziracrow#goodomenss2spoilers#good omens 2#good omens season 2#goodomens2#goodomensspoilers#good omens spoilers#good omens s2#good omens season two#good omens series 2#good omens season 2 spoilers#good omens s2 spoilers
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Title: oh hey a mate(s)
Chapter: one
Fandom: obey me
Pairing: demon brother's x male reader
Warnings: suggestive themes, readers got truama, internalized gender hatred, anxiety, panic attacks, mentions of being a breeding tool, self hate, reader doesn't really understand sex, sexual themes, omegaverse, male reader, mentions of mpreg
🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️
"HE STOLE THEM FROM ME!" (sisters name) Screeched out in a rage as she threw things around "they were supposed to be MY mates! And he stole them! That whore stole them!" She was hyperventilating at this point as her body shook, feeling robbed of her alphas.
Of her life, the thing she wanted more than anything.
"I know sweety but maybe we can set you up wit--"" I don't want someone else! I want the princes!"
And she was going to get them.
She swore it.
'fuck you (name)'
Holy shit this place was big.
God he felt under dressed, especially beside these alphas who were dressed so fancy and perfect.
The floors were marble and two grand staircases winded on each side and paintings that had to be centuries old hung on the walls "we will have one commissioned for you soon enough... Maybe one with us all" Belphegor yawned as he wandered the halls "for now, let's get you settled in" he said and looked to a nervous looking Leviathan who nodded.
(Name) Was nervous as he walked beside the demon who seemed to want to be anywhere but here "I-im sorry if I wasn't who you were expecting... I'll try and not step on your toes" (name) whispered, anxiously fiddling with his fingers and looked down "i-i dont-- fuck... I'm really nervous and anxious and just I don't really talk to omegas often so I'm just--" the demon seemed panicked and (name) felt relief flood through his veins as he pumped out calming pharamones for the Alpha "hey... I get it, if it's any consolation... I'm not great with people either-- hell I think this is the first time I ever left my families property!" He laughed a bit but Leviathan was shocked at his words "you never been into the capital or even your home town?" He asked genuinely and (name) shook his head "nah, my parents didn't trust me going out there-- you know how troublesome an Omega can be"
What the fuck? That's all Leviathan could think as he looked at the Omega worried "I- you're not troublesome?" He whispered and (name) just smiled "I try not to be" (name) giggled a bit as they continued to (name)s apartment, the Omega expecting a quaint bedroom but...
"I think we went to the wrong room.... This is awfully big" (name) said softly to the envy demon who looked confused "you like your apartment?" Asmodeus popped out from nowhere and pulled (name) close with a flirty grin "we had the butlers being your things in, don't worry we didn't let them unpack... Pharamones and all that ~" he pulled (name) into the apartment and (name) felt overwhelmed by all this "there's a nesting room there~ if you need help don't hesitate to ask"
"A-are you sure?"
"Sure of what?"
"That this is for me?"
"You are to be our mate, I personally wanted you with me but Luci wanted you to have your own space... Something about acclimating" his words teasing and (name) chuckled but cut short when his stomach growled and the two demons looked curious "oh yeah! Humans need to eat for survival!"
(Name) Felt embarrassed as he silently cursed his stomach for exposing him like this as the demons looked at one another in a silent conversation.
They were definitely having a sibling meeting later.
(Name) Dissociated during the rest of the evening, eventually ending back in the rooms he was given, the size of his old house if not a bit bigger...
Everything was pristine as he took out his belongings, his prized possessions and small hobbies to occupy him.
A few heirlooms and books and his childhood stuffed toy 'this will go in my nest' he thought as he looked at the nesting room doors, two ornate doors in a rose gold shade, the apartment all light colors unlike the rest of the palace.
It was a strange contrast, almost like they didn't know what to expect so they just made what they thought humans liked. It was funny really, demons trying to understand what humans wanted or needed as he was doing the same, wondering what these demons wanted or liked.
Getting up he went to the nesting room and was overwhelmed by the nesting supplies he was given, piles and piles of blankets and pillows and soft things, his purring could probably be heard from outside the apartment as he snuggled into them, a sense of safety he wasn't quite used to washing over him.
He was excited to make a large nest, spending half the night making it perfect for him to rest in and just not think about the fact he was to be mated on his next heat to seven strangers that were also fucking royalty! Well there goes not thinking about it because here he was!
Also his sister! Holy shit she was mad! And like at his wedding she will be there! Fuuck!
(Name) Was just sitting there head in hands as he processed the fact that within 24 hours he was now engaged and now in the public eye!
(Name) Curled up closer into his blankets and let out a shutter of a sigh, he wondered if he would be able to do the things he enjoyed before... Would he be allowed to garden? Would he have to dress more Omegan? Or would he be able to wear clothes that were comfortable?!
He needed to walk, movement to process this.
Getting up he walked out of his apartment and into the hall, dark and grand, ceilings at least 15 feet tall and paintings lined, some he recognized as the siblings and some unfamiliar as he walked around curiously.
Somehow he made it to the kitchen "I hope they don't mind..." (Name) Whispered as he sliced an apple, careful and gentle as his stomach growled a bit.
"Can I have some?" A voice startled him out of his thoughts causing him to slice his finger "shit!" The voice said and (name) looked to see Beelzebub who in turn looked a bit startled as he took (name)s bleeding finger and put it in his mouth, the Omega looking thoroughly concerned as Beelzebub sucked on the blood "I feel like this is incredibly unsanitary" (name) whispered worried and beez released his finger "demons saliva can heal amongst other things, depends on the demon really"
"Oh " (name) said dumbly as he looked at his wet but healed finger "what else does your saliva do?" He asked curiously and Beelzebub smiled at the others cute and curious expression "ah, well besides healing my saliva can work as an aphrodisiac if ingested!" (Name) Looked concerned and Beelzebub laughed "don't worry, it only works if I were to like make out with you or eat your ass!"
And now (name) was flustered as the gluttony demon kept laughing at his embarrassment "so why are you up so late?" Beelzebub asked after calming down and sealing some apple slices and cutting up some more, handing (name) an orange "just... It's stupid"
"Oh please!" Beelzebub pushed and (name) sighed "I'm just... I'm having trouble processing this stuff, it's stressful and like-- I never left my property let alone this! My sister wanted to be with you guys and she's already insufferable, this is just worse! I'm just paranoid that you guys are going to realize that like this was a mistake and reject me and like the fear of being an Omega in general! Will I be able to do the things i enjoyed before? Will I be a breeding tool?!" He was hyperventilating now as Beelzebub panicked "hey hey, calm down! It will be alright and-- no we aren't making you a breeding Omega.... shhh" beez tried to calm him as footsteps quickly made their way to the kitchen.
"What is happening?" Lucifer and the others seemed startled as the smell of distress was heavy in the kitchen "he's worried we will strip him of his rights and make him carry our young" Beelzebub explained as he lifted (name) into his arms and set him on the counter "were demons but we aren't monsters" Satan said disgusted and Asmodeus smiled "we would never do that unless it's what you're into~" he teased the Omega as they crowded him "I know it's an incredibly hard adjustment but know we mean well, it's literally impossible for us to not fall for each other" it's true soulmates would eventually fall for one another due to the bond "and we are sharing one mate so that means you have seven people to love you" mammon said in a rare moment of genuine care "what do you mean?"
"Oh yeah, he knows basically nothing about secondary gender or soulmates" Levi said softly and the demons looked horrified "well I know what we are doing tomorrow" Satan said simply and (name) looked ashamed and couldn't meet their eyes, feeling stupid for his lack of knowledge.
"Well his town is backwards" Belphegor yawned and wandered off back to bed now that the problem was solved "goodnight...."
(Name) Was led back to his room by Beelzebub and Asmodeus and looked confused when they put sweaters in his arms "the smell of your alphas will calm you~" Asmodeus said simply and the two wished him a good night.
And for once?
He sleped peacefully.
(Name) Spent the next few days learning about soulmates and secondary genders, the two interlocking "when your heat comes, it will be dangerous for you to not mate with your soulmate" (name) read the book in his off time, the book explaining how the bonding is key to not cause rejection symptoms or a drop, he definitely didn't want that. Fuck how does he have sex? Fuck.
Time to go figure that out, he really felt behind on this shit.
(Name) Made home in the library as he looked for any books that would aid him "Hmm? Looking for sex books ~ didn't know our omega was like that" Asmodeus seemed to love just appearing out of thin air and scaring (name) who dropped the book "i-i it's not like that!"
"Hmmm? And what is it about? Oh you're so cute when your flustered!" He cooed and (name) huffed "I am trying to figure out like, how sex works and stuff... I wasn't exactly taught... Just put on suppressants so my family could avoid it" he just constantly felt ashamed with them, their faces of realization and pity as (name) tried not to cry "well, if you like I could teach you~ don't worry I won't touch you where you don't like" Asmodeus could get used to his omega so flustered as he got closer, his alpha giddy at his mate being untouched "the first thing one should know is their body after all~"
"I- uh... I'm not sure..."
Asmodeus let his lips barely touch (name)s as he caged him against a bookshelf and smiled, his tail flickering and (name) seemed a bit startled by it All as the demon gently kissed him "that was... Uh.." "your first kiss?"
"Yeah..."
"Did you like it?"
(Name) Could only nod as the lust avatar giggled sweetly at his adorable Omega "oh, you're going to fit in nicely here~!" He doted on (name) a bit "don't worry darling, we won't do anything your not ready for but if you're willing... To experiment a bit, I'm always a summon away" and with that he was gone, (name) left with nothing more than the smell of his pharamones, sweet Jasmine and warm vanilla.
It wasn't till after lunch that Lucifer brought him to the gardens, a small greenhouse and a garden plot stood "we had it cleaned up, you said you liked gardening" he said simply and looked down at (name) who looked like he was given the potion of youth "really? Thank you so much..." (Name) Was releasing the happiest pharamones and Lucifer kept composure but god damn did that boost his ego as an alpha, making his mate happy.
"Just clean yourself off after you finish" Lucifer said calmly and (name) beamed at this "of course!"
(Name) Puttered in the greenhouse and began planting things, thankfully it was early in the season so he had time to make a nursery for plants "oh, sor--" (name) immediately shut up as he saw Belphegor sleeping in a sun beam, cozy and calm. Looking around (name) found his cape that Satan had made for him and covered the demon with it "it's still chilly" he whispered and went back to work, unaware the demon was awake and watching intently at the Omega who was carrying heavy pots and sacks of soil around.
(Name) Kept quiet for the Alpha, he must be so exhausted to fall asleep in a greenhouse of places so it would be best to let him rest! Eventually (name) moved outside, it was less chilly but a slight chill but movement will keep him warm! Using twine he found in the greenhouse he sectioned spots of the garden plots for various things like carrots and garlic amongst others, they were still in the nursery but it's good to get things ready now, he reasoned with himself.
"Your Highness! It's quite cold!" A servant panicked as she saw (name) in nothing more than a shirt and pants and apron, dirt on his cheek "don't worry! I'm alright!" He reasoned but she was not having it and removed her cape "it's not good for an Omega to be cold like this!"
Before she could drape the cape on (name), he felt fur on his shoulders as Mammon smiled with a warning "don't worry, he's warm" his eyes telling the servant to leave and (name) looked confused "oh hello!" (Name) Smiled at the demon who felt annoyed at how sweet the other was, his bond making his heart beat fast "Luci wanted me to take you into town so get ready" he grumbled and (name) nodded, a simple smile on his face as he wandered to the palace "where's your cape anyways?! It's freezing for mortals!" He chastised and (name) chirped "Belphegor was sleeping and I wanted him to be cozy!" (Name) Couldn't explain why he felt so calm and comfortable with the princes but they made him feel safe, even if they were sometimes like angry chihuahuas.
"You're weird" mammon said with no bite as they walked to (name)s area.
The tailors and seamstresses worked tirelessly to put together some clothes for (name) and his new class, the maids commenting about how the seamstress always kept embroidered sleeves on hand as the brothers always tore clothes during training--- well save for Asmodeus and Belphegor who couldn't be fucked to do stuff like that.
(Name) Felt regal, a beautiful vest made of silk and embroidered with birds and roses and a linen powers shirt and nice pants and expensive boots "you look wonderful your Highness!" A maid commented, (name) growing fond of his personal maids who cheered him in, them all being mated and married betas.
(Name) Was curious as he looked around the city, never really interacting with so many people who looked at he two in awe, the guards keeping a fair distance as he looked at stalls "you seriously never been in a city?" Mammon said incredulously and (name) looked confused "no? It's not right for an Omega to be by himself around alphas, I would be a temptation" reiterating his parents words and Mammon was horrified at the omegas genuine belief that HE was the problem and not alphas who couldn't keep their hands to themselves "well we are unpacking that later"
He didn't even want to get into the family thing, remembering the chat he had with his brothers when (name) had his meltdown and the acceptance that their Omega came from a very problematic living situation but he seemed to be acclimating well.
Or at least he hoped.
Mammon was confused as (name) handed him a stuffed bunny "what is this?" He raised an eyebrow from behind his circular sunglasses "well we didn't get to actually court because of being soulmates so I got you all courting gifts" he chirped out innocently, remembering what he was taught by Lucifer and deciding to put it in action though he seemed to have gotten it backwards as it was supposed to be the Alpha who gave the courting gifts.
"I- uh... Thank you?"
(Name) Seemed pleased as they continued their walk through the cities market, a giant hub of the equally giant city as Mammon stared at the bunny that was made of fabric the same color as his eyes, a small detail that made him flustered.
He noticed (name) budgeting, a soft smile on his face "you know we have basically endless money, right?" Well mammon didn't, he was cut off and put on a strict budget but (name)? He still had his money privileges "that's your money, this is so much!" To (name) it was a lot of money as he did the budgeting of the house back with his family, this was ten times of what they made in a year! "I am fine with this"
Hell, how did they get the exact opposite of them?!
A nervous Omega who was innocent and naive and sweet as honey!
"Oh you are absolutely precious!" Asmodeus cooed at the stuffed rabbit that fit in his hands "I hadn't even thought of courting!" He said with exaggerated sadness and (name) watched the others alphas reactions, though it wasn't the fanciest courting gift, it was a genuinely thoughtful one.
"He was worried about spending the money, he literally budgeted it" mammon groaned and Lucifer snorted "you could do well to learn that" he said as (name) seemed reminded and handed him back the coin bag, the Omega barely dented it "I got a few things for my hobbies but I brought back the change!" He said sweety and Lucifer had cute aggression at that moment as (name) looked at him with so much pride "you know you could have spent all of this right?" He said a little slow, (name) nodding "but that would be rude, I'm spending all your money without care... I don't like that"
Seriously, how did they manage to be fated with the sweetest Omega?!
"He didn't even but himself actual things for himself! He bought things to make us things!" Mammon groaned out but they all knew he equally swooned at the fact their Omega was so sweet.
But also he didn't buy himself anything, Asmodeus has had to bring him to eat and Beelzebub would put food on it.
"Rural Omega culture is different than cities, they're treated more as a commodity" a maid explained to Asmodeus one night as she helped him get ready for bed, she herself being an alpha from the boonies "an inconvenience would be a better word though, everything your saying shows he was treated like how my love got treated, need to make them feel genuinely valued" she went to explain how omegas need regular scenting and assurance to keep mentally regulated and (name) probably never had that.
Which would explain why he seemed like he was constantly waiting for the next shoe to drop despite growing used to them.
Like it was all going to go away.
His dreams were often that, every night he dreamt of waking up in his old room as his sister lived the life she wanted and he was stuck in that musty bedroom where he would rot.
"Your dreams are noisy" Belphegor mumbled as he crawled into bed with (name) and held him close, pumping out pharamones as he thought smugly about the fact he's technically been in bed with (name) before the others. (Name) Snuggled in his chest and physically relaxed, chirping in his sleep as he clung helplessly to him and he was hooked.
He wanted this more and was already annoyed he would have to share with his brothers.
(Name) Let his mates to be plan the wedding though he and Beelzebub thought of food together, the demon horrified at how little foods he got to experience and made him try everything for the wedding and smiled at his happy face with good food "these are mirangue cookies! Like eating plaster that loves you!" He exolained and (name) basically melted at now delicious it was.
Beelzebub was more than happy to share food with him, his alpha wanting the Omega to be well fed to carry his pups after all.
They were all anxious for mating, their bond slowly making them VERY intense about (name) who after weeks, finally sat close to Satan as he read with him though (name) did struggle a bit "omegas being taught to read is laughable, I taught myself as much as I could" he explained and that's when Satan decided he would read for (name), the two spending an hour or two in the library reading together like how Lucifer spent his time teaching (name) new things when he wasn't busy or just dragging him along with things.
(Name) Was always well behaved, he thought of (name)s family and how they were... How did this come out of THAT.
But now, (name) had one worry...
Would he invite his family to his wedding?
#obey me x male reader#obey me x reader#demon brother's x reader#demon brothers#male reader#x male reader#omegaverse#omega male reader#obey me omegaverse#anime x male reader#anime x reader#Asmodeus x male reader#Lucifer x male reader#Beelzebub x male reader#Belphegor x male reader#Leviathan x male reader#mammon x male reader#satan x male reader#reader insert
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Are there any tropes or lessons you like to see used on the five man band.
I.E.: the lancer needs to learn the power of friendship or the heart needing to learn self care
Oh man. So many. Just off the top of my head-
The Leader is out of commission and The Lancer gets their wish of being in charge! Oh god why is everything so difficult this is like herding cats how does The Leader stand it
The Smart Guy has friends now, so it's easy to forget that before The Band they were isolated and awkward and overall very alone. Let's unpack that!
Oh nooooo The Lancer was overconfident and got their ass beat by bad guys and now they need to get rescuuuuuued nooooooo what if they learn a lesson about truuuuuust
The Heart supports the team without complaint… but what happens when they need support? (hugs. hugs happen)
Has The Lancer… betrayed us?? (maybe a little, as a treat, but not for long so relax)
Everyone else is out of commission! It's up to The Smart Guy to sneakily save the day!
The villain of the week made someone in the group experience Deep Emotional Issues and now The Heart is going to straight-up murder them if nobody stops them
hey bad news they brainwashed the chillest friendliest member of the gang and now we have to do an absolutely terrifying fight scene about it
Everyone on the team is relying on one member's unique skill to save them all while the rest of them buy time, and the only person who isn't sure they can do it is the person doing it
One of them is cornered, but wins using a skill they picked up from a teammate (and possibly complains about it nonstop)
Everyone is being independently interrogated about something they all did and every single one of them is either stonewalling or lying outrageously
Okay one of the team is out of commission let's try REALLY HARD to take care of them and handle any problems WITHOUT BOTHERING THEM I'm sure this won't result in a comedy of errors
Everyone gets knocked flat in a one-shot move but how cool is it when the powerhouse is the only one who manages to get back up
Okay you guys go handle the main villain I'll stay here by myself and hold off the entire army of minions no sweat
Oh hey, turns out this Heart character we've been underestimating isn't weak or underpowered, they're just usually much too nice to kick anyone's ass half as hard as they deserve. congrats on finally finding their breaking point tho
One of the characters is feeling useless, sure hope they don't push themself to deeply self-destructive extremes to compensate
Somehow The Leader has been temporarily compromised to the side of Evil I sure hope The Lancer doesn't take it upon themself to solve this the only way they know how (running off on their own and getting their shit rocked)
Local Lancer Unfortunately Concludes They Are Undyingly Loyal To These Idiots
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Don't Say It. | Closing Out
logline; just say it in every way but the one way that makes it weird.
[!!!] series history; did y'all notice the banner rebrands? tell me you think they look nice and good and cool or i'll. start crying.
Spotify Playlist, if you like to listen while you read. I listen to it when I write :) Constantly gettin’ added to. how is it more than 7 hours. my god.
portion; 14k was hoping we'd reenter our single digits era but we ball
possible allergies; two mentally ills battle it out (romantic).
pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader almost certain there are gendered bits/pronouns but can't honestly completely remember.
(new!) kofi; I have one now! if you've enjoyed the series, perhaps you wanna tip!
moving into a new place literally in two days!! high stress. so thank you for waitin' as always pwease enjoy and pwease tell me what you think!
You take a good long breath, sitting on the counter in the bathroom. Right. Time is linear and you’re in New York again— Never left. Right. Carmen’s sitting across from you, it’s kind of a shock this floating sink counter hasn’t collapsed under the two of you yet. How long have you been here? Swapping stories took a long fucking time, and there’s still, disgustingly, a lot to unpack.
“Any shoes left undropped?” You drum your hands against your knees, the question is as much for yourself as it is for him.
Carmen opts to open with a soft ball. “You called me Carmy?” Before you knew me, you called me Carmy?
“I called you a lot of things.”
“Like virgin Michelin Star chef?” He’s failing to hide the upturned corners of his mouth, when he says it.
You snort and nod, “Like virgin Michelin Star chef, or Carmy, or Carm, or baby boy, baby bear, mister New York— Basically all Mikey’s, I think the only one I coined was Charmin.”
“Charmin?”
“Like the—” He finishes with you, “—Toilet paper bears.” and whether he should be or not, he cannot stop laughing, when you confess this.
“I thought it was a good bit!” “Cause I’m a piece of shit?” “Bitch—Cause you clean up, and you’re a bear, and Carmen sounds like Charmin, and Charmin sounds like charming and I—”
You pause, cringing, parasocial relationship coming to a head now. When your best friend wants you to get with his hot talented brother living in the Big Apple, it’s hard not to fantasize about, alright? “...I found you very charming.”
God, it’s just far too easy for you to render him completely speechless. It’s really not fucking fair. Carmen looks like a deer in headlights, he looks how he did in your car, a month or so ago, when he bit the bullet and asked you out. Well, promised to ask you out. He swallows, no more glass in his throat, but it does feel a little scratchy, kinda like, like pop rocks?
Pop rocks, yeah. Sweet, salivating. “Do you still?”
You squint, like he’s a moron. He is. “Of course I do.” Cherry pop rocks. Yeah, that sort of spritz feeling, on the tongue, and the way it continues to simmer all the way down. “I don’t want you to stop being you, by the way, Carm.”
“Huh?” What’s that supposed to mean? Of course you want him to change, he sucks.
“I—” You’re quick to clarify, straightening your posture. “I think it’s great to— to do the work, and therapy and reading and self-care— That’s all— That’s very good, and you should do it— For you, not me, but I— One bad night is not how I’ll think of you— You’re— You’re not a bad person, is I guess all I’m trying to fuckin’ say.”
You’re sweet. Sweet but with depth, slowly developed, caramelized, tart. Maybe a fruity molasses.
Carmen swallows, it’s hard to digest the sweet. “I— I’m not a bad person, but I could be better.” Pomegranate molasses. It’s got an acidic kick. Sort of like balsamic.
“I could be better, too.” Could you? Please God, don’t try, he can’t compete. No, shit, hold on, stop pedestaling. “You kinda got my ass, with peoples’ princess.”
Carmen cringes, there’s the acid. “I should not have said—”
“I have a fucking saviour complex, Carm. And it’s just as bad for everyone else as it is for me.”
Bite, yet tender. You continue on. “I do need to work on that. And I should’ve explained more when we first met, it was just— You know… I know you know.” Medium rare, steak medallion— No— rectangle.
Pomegranate molasses, thick—Nearly sorbet thick. Poured onto the plate, centered, perfect circle. Medium rare wagyu steak— A3, maybe; too much fat would ruin the composition. Rectangular, off center. Dust with cherry pop rocks. Bizarre, but it might actually be something. Bad, but something. Not tired or overdone, that’s for sure. Anything but dusty.
Carmen missed you for a lot of reasons this week, but it’s almost annoying how merely being in your presence for a few hours has given him more inspiration to work with than he has had in the last one-hundred and sixty-eight hours, without you. But who’s counting?
It’s easy to make things, when they’re for you. When they’re about you.
“I should’ve listened, when you were ready, but I got defensive and—I— I do that a lot, clearly, I just—” Carmen tries not to bite at his nails and fingers, because his therapist, Sara, said not to do that. What the fuck does she know? A lot, actually.
“That’s just kinda how— we’d do things. Like that’s how we—” Carmen frowns, memories dawning on him. “…I guess maybe we never really talked.”
You don’t need to ask who we is. His family didn’t particularly set Carmen up for success. And every figure after his family didn’t really lighten the load. There’s not much for you to say or do beyond, “I like talking to you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re allowed to still be mad at me.” Carmen reassures, he’s not sure why he feels the need to do so. “You can— You can tell me to go fuck myself.”
You shake your head, shrugging. “You can tell me to go fuck myself.”
He shakes his head, immediately, squinting, like you’re a moron; you are. “I would never tell you to go fuck yourself.”
It’s a silent moment of exchanging hard stares and trying to glean something from the other. Once you gather your findings, you finally return to your era of speaking in sync again, with, “I don’t hate you.”
It's a hellish realization, that you thought it was possible, let alone certain, to hate you. He could cry again. “Why would you ever think I hate you?”
You raise your brows, because how could you not think Carmen hates you? “Because you said—”
“I didn’t mean a fucking word.” He says it differently than he did before. Like it’s a final warning. He immediately recoils at his own voice and its aggression.
“I’m sorry.” Carmen scratches his nose, continuing for the both of you. What more can he say? He’s already said it a million times, so what’s one more? When you try to speak, he doesn’t let you. Because he knows you. He knows you’ll brush it off. “I don’t want you to forgive me, right now. I want to prove I earned it.”
“You don’t have to prove yourself to me.”
“Yeah, Sara said that, too. You’re both wrong.”
“Yeah, I don’t think your therapist can be wrong, in this scenario.”
“Please.” Carmen props his knee up on the counter, his hands, in some way, mimic a prayer. He holds eye contact, he thanks whoever is in charge that you’re holding it again, too. “Let me earn it.”
Carmen will learn that he doesn’t need to earn anything or prove anything to anyone eventually. He’ll need more than six therapy sessions crammed in during his lunch breaks, for that. But right now, he needs to prove this. Needs to earn you. For now, you'll give it to him. For now, you just nod.
Carmen chews his bottom lip, he doesn’t want to say it but he has to. “When I said—” You failed Mikey. “—What I said— I didn’t mean it how I said it.”
You bring your legs up, criss crossing them. “How’d you mean it?” How else could he possibly mean it?
“I meant it like— Like— Of course he died.”
They’re Berzatto men, they’re doomed. “Nothing you could have done would have stopped him from dying— And I— It hurt cause it felt like— In—In that moment— In my head—” He puts a hand up, pausing to reassure, “Nothing you did. But I felt like I was ‘Round Two’ for you. Charity. I—”
Carmen swallows, looking down, can’t meet your eyes for the moment, but he points at you. “You didn’t fail Mikey— He failed to know he was worth saving.”
A wound closes up, a little bit, somewhere in your head and heart. “I think in some ways, I was trying to make up for something—”
You’re quick to clarify, too. “But not cause you’re you— Cause I’m me.” Have to do it all. Have to fix it all. Have to save it all. “Like— I think I might have that edge of paranoia for like, like a long time, if not… forever?”
You frown; what a bleak idea. “Fuck, I may need to go back to therapy, too.”
“You want Sara’s card?” “Sliding scale?” “Sliding scale.” “Is it weird to have the same therapist?” “Probably.” “I’ll look into it.”
You both laugh, the weighted blanket of tension over you both is finally lifting. Carmen’s capable of looking you in the eyes again. “You did literally everything someone could think of.”
You kiss your teeth, you could’ve done a couple more things. “I mean, location—”
“He never would’ve given it to you.” “That’s exactly it, though— I should’ve put my foot down more. I was never as strict as I was supposed to be.” “But if you were strict he wouldn’t let you help him.” “Sponsors are meant to be strict.” “Then he wouldn’t’ve let you be his sponsor.” “Then I shouldn’t have been his sponsor!” “Then he would’ve never joined the program!” “Well—” “It’s not your fucking fault!”
Carmen doesn’t hate you, Carmen doesn’t think you killed his brother. Heavy exhale of too many emotions and a touch of relief. But you can see yourself in his expression. You can see Richie in his expression. The guilt. The haunting. You swallow, “Not yours, either.”
“I could’ve called more.” “He wouldn’t have answered.” “I could’ve realized why.” “And how exactly could you have done that?” “...I dunno, could’ve— Could’ve been the guy, for him.” “Carmen you were the guy, for him.”
Carmen shakes his head. “You were the guy, for Mikey.”
“I— Okay—” You click your tongue, this is hard to explain. You shift on the sink counter, trying to get more comfortable. You won’t. It’s a fucking sink. “I was the guy, but the guy to another guy isn’t much— you—” You snap your fingers, pointing at him. “You’re not the guy, Carmen. Never will be.”
“Ouch.”
“No— You’re something much more important than the guy. You’re— You’re the, the cat.”
He can’t help but smile, confused. He’s so used to bear comparisons. “I’m the cat?”
“You’re—” You keep pointing at him, thinking the metaphor in your head through. “...The guy is— Is like the host of the house party. He keeps the jokes going, the room light, the drinks and food stocked— He talks people through panic attacks while they sit in the bathtub, he loses at beer pong on purpose to make the other team feel better, the guy makes everyone feel like they’re the center of the universe.”
“And the cat?”
“The cat is upstairs, locked in his room, because the cat will get all jittery if he’s around all that yelling and all those people. The cat doesn’t even like those people. And the guy doesn’t want his cat to go through that. But then, when the guy finally gets all jittery and can’t handle all those people himself—” You sigh, honestly stressed by your own metaphor, thinking of all the moments in your life you needed the cat and didn’t call.
“He’ll go upstairs, to his room, and the cat will be there, and he can talk to the cat— Because the cat likes him. And nothing will be solved, but it’ll still feel good and the cat will still think his guy’s perfect and wonderful even when the guy is just— just him— And the cat asks literally nothing of the guy— Unlike everyone else downstairs— and that’s exactly why the guy wants to give the cat everything over anyone else.”
God, you’ve been talking about cats and guys too much. “Not everyone needs a cat, but the guys that do, really do. And you’re… You’re the cat— Mikey’s and mine.”
Carmen can’t say I love you, because that would be an insane response. That would be weird and bad and too soon and stupid. But it’s the only thing he can think of. The only thing he can say besides that, is, “You’re very good to me.”
You’re not exclusively for Carmen, he knows that. You’re not made for him— You’re made for many things. But maybe you’re curated. The Bear wouldn’t exist without your advocacy. And it’s hard to believe, but there might’ve been even more broken shit at The Beef, if you hadn’t been there before Carmen got there. Mikey got to be your friend, before Carmen did. And you got to be Mikey’s friend, when Carmen didn’t. But you both kept him in mind, you told Mikey to text, you drew schematics for his restaurant, you said you’d talk to him. You thought he was charming. You still do. You’re Mikey’s pick, for Carmen. And it’s not like Mikey’s opinion matters that much, but it’s nice to have approval. Though he didn’t fucking ask for it.
“Such a cat response.” “Is that like being a Leo or some shit?”
You both laugh. Ah, thank fuck, it’s you two, again. There’s a comfortable silence while you think for a second, before asking, “Can I add another thing to your non-negotiables?”
“Always.”
“I don’t want you to be different for me.” You think back to being in his kitchen, the way he tried to hold back, when you were around. “I get you, work you, home you— If you want me to be your fuckin’ mixologist, you’re gonna have to get comfortable working with me.”
“You still want to work for me?”
“I shook on it, didn’t I?”
He laughs through a deep sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God.”
“Damn,” You snort, “Are you only with me for my skills?”
“No, I’m with you because you’re— You.” The kitchen needs you, The Bear needs you, Carmen needs you. He’s the cat, he doesn’t need anything more than you. He can work on his codependency issues in therapy, okay? “I— I like having you around.”
You readjust your posture again, it’s hard to get comfortable on a sink. “Well, you better get paid soon, then.”
“‘Bout that.” Boy came prepared. He rifles through the pockets of his black jeans, and pulls out a folded slip of paper. He does a yoga class worthy stretch to hand it to you, from across the sink. A paystub, from The Bear, to Carmen. Officially on fucking payroll.
Yeah, turns out, just a bad week, last week. Being in the red doesn’t last forever. Neither does being in the green. There are ebbs and flows. Next week will probably be shit, and yet the wheel still turns. Carmen also might’ve very well plugged in half of the numbers wrong, according to Sugar, when she eventually got to looking at it. But that’s neither here nor there. So he’s reactive. What’s new? Should’ve believed the you in his head, when she said there will be good and bad weeks. He’s still working on being the only voice in his head. But you’re a good replacement for the other guy, for now.
You stare at it, like an ancient scroll. It’s real. He’s really getting paid— Pretty decent too, he could finally buy some fucking furniture, with this. “Okay.” You look up from the slip to him. He looks like he’s on fucking Shark Tank, anxiously awaiting your approval. “And you’ll act like you?”
“I will act like me.” Even when he doesn’t want you to see it, Carmen will act like Carmen.
And that’s all you could ask for, really. You’re about to approve the deal, but then you think again, frowning. “The Exec.”
“Ah.” Carmen shuts his eyes, embarrassed by his own brain. “I know.”
“So you thought about it?”
“I didn’t think about— It—” Carmen doubted his own conviction, because he doubts all of himself. But it really was not ever on the table, to give your number…That said— “I thought about loopholes.”
“Catfishing him?” You guess, and he affirms. “Catfishing him.” Hey, great minds think alike. Doesn’t make Carmen feel any less scummy, for considering abusing your likeness for sake of approval.
“Did you go through with it?”
It’s Carmen’s turn, to blink, slow to realize that you actually don’t know. “Richie didn’t tell you?” You still live in a world where Carmen isn’t completely batshit.
You tilt your head, “Did Richie catfish him?”
“No, uhm—” He seems suddenly sheepish now. Can’t look you in the eyes, again. He nods and points to your pockets. “You got your phone?”
“Uh, yeah—” You pull it out, haven’t gotten any sudden creepshow texts, to your knowledge. “Should I be scared?”
Carmen shakes his head. “Nothin’ worse than what you’ve already seen.” He snaps his fingers at your phone, “Look up uh— I think it’s— Chicago Bear on Yankee Chef turf, or some shit.”
You have to take a moment, before typing, to just look at him with genuine pause. “...What?”
“Just do it.” “Did you kill someone?” “I do not have blood on my hands, the Tribune is just dramatic—” “The fucking Tribune?! Shut the fuck up, Carmy.”
Absolutely no way he’s in the Chicago Tribune.
Okay. Upon searching. Absolutely yes way he’s in the Chicago Tribune. Carmen’s trending on Twitter— Or rather, Chicago, The Bear, Bear, Carmy, Michelin Beef, Fuck the Yanks, and a million other keywords are trending— Local trending, but still trending. Chicago Tribune’s made an article archiving a handful of reaction tweets, summarizing whatever the fuck happened. Alright, this is taking too long, maybe you should just ask the man in front of you— “Oh my fucking God, there’s a video.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t watch—” Carmen is interrupted by his own voice coming through your phone. “—And what kind of fucking Chef doesn’t like black pepper? I’m white and overdone, but you’re an entire other goddamn beast—” “...That.”
It’s a screen recording of some patron’s Facebook Live at some New York restaurant David owns or whatever. Empire? That’s what the blurry signs in the video’s background seem to say. What’s his title at this point, anymore? Doesn’t matter.
It’s nice to see his blurry little face around ten to twenty feet from the camera get yelled at by a Carmen that is also many feet away, but his voice seems to be projecting throughout the whole restaurant; enough to be heard clearly through recording, anyways. “And it’d be enough to just be an asshole— But you’re a creep too— Never fuckin’ pray on my— my— bar staff, or I swear on my life—”
“Can’t make direct threats in New York, Cousin! Penal code!” You laugh when you hear Richie’s voice ringing out in the background. Thank God for whoever’s filming, because they pivot their phone to catch Richie, pretty much next to their table, calling out to Carmen. “It’s a fine!”
He looks tired but wired; they must’ve taken a pitstop here, before heading to the hotel. What a fun road trip finale. Richie is such a motherfucker for not telling you all of this first thing while you put on his cufflinks— This is not dirty details, this is front page shit! Literally! God, he buries the lead like it’s his fucking day job.
“Who gives a fuck about a fine? Everyone—” And back to Carmen. “This is David Fields, he’s the head of the head of the head, in their heads— He’s a fantastic chef, I don’t think he eats or sleeps or knows what another person’s hands feel like— He is fuckin’ brilliant at making the same three fuckin’ plates every fuckin’ day— With the most minute differences— And—And—And— He doesn’t even make them! He takes dishes from prozac riddled fucks like me, makes them worse and then puts his name on it! Unoriginal, a narcissist, and fucking bad at it!”
You don’t look up from your phone, eyes glued to the screen. “Holy fuck, Carmen.”
“Yeah, I’m aware.” “Is this good marketing?” “Wait for it, I guess.” “...Are you actually on prozac?” “No. I kind of blacked out. Made a point though, right?” “Yeah, I’d say so.”
“Sorry, miss. Could I—” …Fak? Guess he did third wheel on the road trip to New York. He grabs the streamer’s phone. There’s a ‘what the—fuckin— excuse me?’ from behind the camera as Fak pivots the recording to himself.
“Hey World, I’m Neil, that’s my best friend Carmy the Bear, over there.”
“Jesus Christ.” You look up from your phone to Carm, who was at first embarrassed and is now just trying to hold a straight face, hand over his mouth. “I’m aware.” He repeats.
You squint, thinking.“...Best friend?” “...I guess he is?” “That’s— Okay— I don’t— Alright, we’ll come back to that.” And return to your phone.
Fak continues, taking advantage of the sudden screen time. “He’s a really good Chef, knows his shit, if you ever want to see how he does it, please come eat— Dine— Dine with us at The Bear, we’re in Chicago— on North Orleans and Huron— You can— Can book with us at The Bear dot—”
“Don’t have the site yet.” Richie interrupts the impromptu ad, hovering over Fak’s shoulder, barely whispering. “Still The Beef.”
Neil nods and continues. “The Beef dot squarespace—”
“It’s Wix.” “It’s fucking Wix?” “Your problem isn’t with the lack of a domain?”
“It’s Google Sites, actually.” You correct for no one, really, looking up from your phone to Carmen, again. “I made him change it so it wouldn’t have that ugly freemium bar.”
Carmen snorts, shaking his head. Of course you did. “D’you design it?”
You let out a loud, “Ha!” before turning back down to the screen. “I think web design might be the one trade I can’t do.” But you’re willing to learn, if he needs.
Ah, the videographer managed to foist her phone back, returning to catch the very end of the Carmen Show. And it’s a wonderful finale, from Carm.
“—Fuck your two elements, fuck your face— Fuck everything about you— I cannot believe we gave you service— Let alone our best— For a guy in hospitality, you have no fucking right treating my host and somme like that. Fuck you—”
“Fuck you—” Finally a response from David, though it’s quickly interrupted, as Carmen finally starts to back away, not wanting a genuine fight if he doesn’t have to do it, but he certainly wants the last word. “No, fuck you—”
“Fuck you.” “—Chef— Stay in your fucking city— Stay in your fucking city— New Yorks great! Stay in it! We don't play in Chicago— Fuck you!”
Carmen comes back to his road trip squad, he notices the woman recording, and walks up to the camera. For a second, you genuinely think he’s going to square up with her— You’re pretty sure he at least thought about it. “Is she recording?”
“Streaming.” Answers Fak. “It’s the new thing.”
Carmy opts to use his words, possibly because he could maybe get arrested. “Sorry, sorry— I just want to make it clear—”
He gestures to the fucker in the background, bouncers seems to be approaching. Carmen keeps going, face red but calming down, chasing his own breath. “This man worked— and works with wonderful Chefs who I learned a lot under— And— And— I have all the respect for them, and always will— But-But— when it comes to David Fields specifically—”
Your cherry and lamb dish was perfect. David’s palate is just not worth appealing to. Carmen won’t make that mistake again.
“—What he serves is consistently vapid, dusty, and dead on arrival— like his heart— And—And— When you pay him, dine with him, work with him, you are lining the pockets of some fuckin’ creep that pulls rank on honest cooks and servers. So. Decide if you want that. And uhm— Uh— Tip your servers. Don’t ask for their numbers— Like he does. Be normal. Thank you.”
“Carmen Berzatto, folks! Come— Come to The Bear!” Yells out Neil, as security finally seems to be coming for the Chicagoans.
Richie grabs Fak by the back of his coat, knowing when to bounce, shouting, “No legal names! Godssake— This has been Carmichael Burrowski, folks! Don’t call no one—!”
The screen recording ends, not long after that. You’re going to need maybe a… fifty minute nap, to process that. Maybe, somehow, this is good publicity— Maybe in some way, this is putting The Bear on the center stage. But one thing is fact, Carmen completely abandoned the idea of keeping appearances and getting a star through kissing ass. He completely abandoned the idea of being appealing to the man in his head.
And he did that for you— And Richie— Which, honestly, makes it mean even more. Carmen’s a good boss. Not always. Definitely not always. But when it fucking counts, he is. Carmen's a good man. A good friend. A good not-quite boyfriend. Ugh, boyfriend? What kind of word is ‘boyfriend’? That's fucked.
You put your phone away, quietly nodding and thinking, not looking at Carmen. You shrug, attempting to be nonchalant. “Contract and I’ll be your mixologist.”
“Yeah?” There’s such a brightness, to the way Carmen asks. Like a spritz. “Okay. I’ll— I’ll send you a Docusign.” Aperol spritz. There’s more to it, than that though.
You’re so zoned out, looking at the sinks instead of Carmen, he starts to get worried. He just got eye contact back, come on. Was the yelling too much in the video? He was loud and mean. He always is. He told you not to watch.
“Tony?” What kind of bitters suit him? A slice of grapefruit might be nice. Bright but acquired.
“Are you good?”
“Wha—” You shake your head out of it, turning your gaze to Carmen. He jumped off the counter to stand by you. His hand hovers by your head— He considers grazing your hair, and chickens out. But he can’t put it down. “Sorry, was— I was uh— Just thinking of what we could put on a cocktail menu, that’s all.” Yeah, that’s all.
“Don’t work on it, without me.” It’s with a, dare you say, panicked quickness, that he requests this. “Cocktail menu, coffee menu, we should— Should do R and D, together.”
“Yeah, f’sure.” Fucking Chefs, so particular about their menus. “I think it’d be good to uhm— Build it around the main menu, anyways. Sorta match stuff up.” Thankfully, you like particular.
He really needs to not be standing this close, though. Your brain keeps zoning in and out— It’s really not the time to be feeling any sort of type of way about Carmen cursing out that fucking chef and going to therapy for himself and you and he smells nice and he’s reading books and he worked bar all night with you and he looks so nice in bartender black in lieu of his Chef whites and he is trying so hard and— And you cannot say you love him because that would be weird. That would be weird and bad and too soon and stupid.
And you can’t forgive him either— Well, not aloud, because Carmen wants to prove that he’s done the work— Wants to prove that he’s going to keep doing the work. He’s rendered you with nearly zero options here, to show your affection.
“Yeah, that’s— That’d be good. I was thinkin’ we’d put your station by Marcus.” Why is he still talking about work? He’s so stupid. He’s wonderful. This is the worst. This is hell. “Coffee machine’s already there, and you’ll tend to share a lot of elements, anyway— I think.”
You shift your butt on the counter, turning to face him head on, he’s just slightly between your knees as your legs dangle off the counter. “Carmen.”
“Yeah?” “I’m going to kiss you.” “Yeah, okay.”
Light, nervous, sweet, lifting, soft— A delicate kick to it. Pink peppercorn bitters. That’s it.
Aperol— Vibrantly orange liqueur, derived from bitter rhubarb. It’s an acquired taste. Some say it’s citrusy and herbal, others say it tastes like cough syrup. Either way, it’s awakening. Then prosecco. A splash of soda— Lemon-lime would be best. Aperol spritz. It’s an Italian cocktail. It sparkles. Everything in it fizzes, almost competing with each other. It’s meant to be enjoyed before dinner. It’s refreshing. Pink peppercorns and grapefruit would only add to that brightness, that light. It’s not for everyone, but it is everything to some. That’s Carmen. That’s your Carmen. Oh, maybe a syrup on the rim?
You try to be delicate, the way you put the palm of your hand on the back of his head and pull him in, but it’s just not possible. It’s the first time in a fucking month you’ve initiated— It's been one-hundred and sixty-eight hours since you've seen his face, let alone touched it— It’s just not possible to be kind.
Thankfully, based on the way he’s leaning you back on the counter, hands on your waist, it doesn’t seem like Carmen wants kind. There's a sigh of relief, to just kiss you. He’s fine with the touch of hair pulling, on your part— Possibly more than fine. Possibly way more than fine. The faint whining and pulling your hips to his seem to indicate it’s a lot fucking more than fine.
It would be weird and bad and stupid and too soon to say I love you, but you can mouth the words against him and he can’t tell what you’re wording but at least you know. It’s funny that he can do the same to you, and despite knowing the trick, you can’t tell either.
Carmen pulls back, just a centimeter, or two. He wants to say something. He’s opening his mouth to say something. He's all dopey and half-lidded. Man, he’s pretty. He knows that right? Yeah, he knows that. “You’re so pretty.” You tell him anyway, speaking into his half open mouth.
Whatever thought he had, it’s dead now.“—Jesus fucking Christ.” He moves his hands to hold your face. It’s nice. It’s nice to get peppered with kisses— Yeah, pink pepper fits perfectly with him.
Carm’s voice is heavier now. Maybe from the lack of oxygen. He’s fighting to revive his brain. He’s so serious, when he firmly kisses you, forehead against yours, lips still grazing, saying, “I’m not a fucking virgin.”
You laugh way too fucking hard for his ego. Your hands untangle from his hair, but your arms continue to rest on his shoulders. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He’s still amped, too bad you’re you, and you have to ruin the mood to poke at him.
“That a recent development?” “Shut the fuck up—” “I’m just wondering, if he was accurate at the time—” “Why are you doing this to me?” “Did you have a tantric affair in Denmark, the people wanna know!” “I— There was no time, alright? It got away from me—” “Remember when you had your first kind of girlfriend like a month and a week ago?” “It was a recent development, okay?” “Darn. Sorry I was late.”
He pauses the banter to just stare at you, take in your features, take in that you’re here and real and half underneath him. “Not forgiven.” You should’ve shown up sooner. You should’ve injected yourself so completely in Carmen’s life eons ago, and made yourself intrinsically impossible to remove. Absolutely not forgiven, for being late.
“Yeah?” Your eyes upturn, deeply amused. Carmen really is the baby brother. Entitled, bratty, cute. You’re planning to say something coy, something playful like ‘Ohoho, how do I earn your forgiveness?’ But you remember something Carmen said, when he was summarizing his Friday night for you— And for Carmen, what you opt to say is so much worse than hot banter, for his brain.
“I don’t think your mouth tastes bad.” It’s your turn to take in his face and all its features. “I think it’s nice. It’s like the only way I can try cigarettes without getting a headache.”
“I wanna fly you to Paris.” It’s so quick, from Carmen. Choked quick— Like he fought to hold it down but you’ve just opened the Pandora’s box that is his mouth. He keeps going. Your surprised face firmly smushed in his hands.
“I’ve wanted to take you to Paris since I asked you to run bar— I’ve— I’ve wanted to take you to Paris since you washed my hair— I—I—” Too much affection to contain in words, he has to kiss you, and then he has to keep going, and then kiss you between the ‘ands’, and then keep going. Like a shot and a chaser and a shot and a chaser and a—
“I want you to be permanent and carved in my tables and I want you to wear my jackets and I want you in my kitchen and in my menu and in every dumb fucking conversation I have at Christmas tellin’ family what the fuck I’m doing— I want you in every sentence.”
It’s not ‘I love you’. Because saying I love you would be weird and bad and stupid and too soon. But it might very well be more than that. Trying to avoid saying it might be forcing you both to say something that means more than that.
It’s hard to generate a response as poignant as that. Especially because your cognitive abilities seem to have gone completely offline. Your brain is telling you to kill the moment so you don’t have to face the feeling, telling you to say something stupid like, ‘Why Paris?’, because if you don't, you might say it. But you can’t. You’re totally speechless.
Eventually, you manage to choke out, “I would like that.”
“Yeah?” “Yeah.”
“Good.” Ah, a smile from Carmen with teeth. What a rare gift you’ve been bestowed. He tries to celebrate this occasion with another kiss that will inevitably lead to a million more but when he goes for his classic move of sticking his head in the crook of your neck to bite you like a cannibal— You get the chance to look somewhere other than Carmen’s face, and realize you are both still very much so in a fucking bathroom at a fucking wedding in New York.
“Fak is still outside, I’m pretty sure.”
Carmen groans, there’s no way you’re doing this to him again, come on, neither of you have to go this time, you have all the time in the world, in this bathroom. Time isn’t real here. That’s how bathrooms work. “He’s not.”
“Carmy’s right, I’m not.” Says definitely totally not Fak, behind the door. “You guys kissin’ yet?”
“Christ.” You put a hand on Carm’s chest, pushing him back from you as you push yourself up with your other hand. “Mood dead.”
“No—” He grabs your wrist, holding your hand in place against him. “Mood not dead— Mood present and alive—”
There’s some fumbling behind the door. “Wait— Are they?” Oh, so Richie’s here, too? Good. That’s great. “Ain’t no fuckin’ way— Cousin, be a gentleman—”
Carmen leans over and all but screams into your shoulder. “I am being a fuckin’ gentleman, Richard!”
You kiss your teeth, shaking your head, shrugging. “Yeah, it’s dead.” Them’s the breaks.
A slow, heavy, arduous exhale, from Carmen, coming up to lean his forehead to yours for a second. Enjoying the liminal space before it’s permanently ripped out of your hands. “I hate my family.”
You smile, pressing your forehead firmer against his, nuzzling noses. “You love your family.”
“I love my family.” He sighs. He gives you one last kiss, soft, sweet, perfect. “Thank you for taking care of them.”
You shrug. “They’re mine, too.”
God, you’re so quick and mind-bending, he has to go for another kiss, come the fuck on— “Mood’s dead.” You laugh, so cruel, jumping off the counter, maneuvering past Carmen, but you’re sweet— Cruel but sweet— Carefully switching his hold on your wrist to holding your hand, dragging him with you.
You might be leaving the bathroom together, but Carmen’s pretty sure a part of him is going to stay there, like a ghost of a feeling, for the rest of time.
“Okay— Is everyone waiting to piss?” Is your first question, for the crowd awaiting you and Carmy outside the bathroom. Not strangers, though—Well, mostly not strangers. Richie, Syd, Fak, some guy that looks like Fak. There’s no way they all need to piss, there were three other bathrooms available, it's not like you were hogging. “Is fuckin’ anyone runnin’ bar right now?”
“Marcus is.” Syd answers, hurriedly, as she runs up on you, immediately enveloping you— Practically an attack. It’s not in her nature to hug, but you’ve forced her hand here. Carmen hasn’t even exited the doorway behind you yet before you’re stumbling back into him from the force of her.
“Squ—”
The words come out of her like a flood, no spacing between the words. “I’m-sorry-I— We-finished-serving-and-listened-in-on-everything-super-invasive-couldn’t-help-it— You should’ve called me.”
This— These motherfuckers. Oh well, saves you the trip to Denny’s. And frankly, you would hate to re-explain all that. You return the hug with your free hand, the other one still in Carmen’s. You put your chin on her shoulder. “I know.”
There were so many times where you could’ve just gone upstairs. So many times you could’ve just called your old cat. Should’ve just called Syd. She would have been there. Maybe that’s exactly why you didn’t call.
“I should’ve called you.” Maybe that’s exactly why Syd never called her guy, when she needed you, too.
“Well,” You pull her back by her shoulders, “We will next time.”
You can’t let the moment stay sincere for long though, shit-eating grin growing on your face, “You’d give up a star for me?” Nuzzling your face into Syd’s cheek as she desperately tries to get away from you now— Oh how the tables turn.
“Get fucked—” “You love me— I’m all you got, Syd? Woww—” “After my dad I said! After my dad!” “A single widdle tear from me isn’t worth a star?” “It was not widdle— Little— Fuck—”
“This is cute princesses but everyone get the fuck out of the way before I clog an artery.” Richie unnecessarily shoves his way between the Faks to get to you.
You release Syd to face the man, pensive, waiting for a slap, honestly. Richie just looks at you, now that he’s in front of you he’s dumbfounded, awkward. He knows he wants to say something or wants you to say something but neither of you know what that is. What it should be.
Before he can figure it out, you do. “I should’ve told you.” Besides your therapist, Carmen is the only person you told about the phone call— Well, intentionally, that is.
That doesn’t really seem to be the thing he cares about. He’s not going to slap you, and you don’t need to grovel. “Am I dead, to you?”
Your brows furrow, for a second. “Wha—”
Richie grabs your free hand, pressing it to his neck. “Check my pulse, am I dead, t’you?”
“First of all, wrong placement.” You have to wiggle your hand out of his grip to take his pulse correctly. “It’s under the chin, align it with your eye—”
“Do I have one?” “Yes, Richie, you have a pulse.” “So I’m not dead?” “You’re not dead—” “Then call me.”
When your breath hitches, he continues. “I’m not a ghost. I’m here. When shit happens, you call me.”
“I know.” Is the only thing you can say without your voice cracking. “I will call next time.”
“You will fucking call, next time.” Richie grabs your face, smushed in his hands. “And you’ll answer my calls, next time.” He forces you to nod— Not that you wouldn’t, but wants to make sure. “Am I heard?”
“You're heard.”
Richie can see over your head, so he barks at Carmen, who’s very innocently behind you, still holding your hand. “Get your weird little hands off my Chip, you perv—”
“I don’t have weird little hands—”
Syd pipes in, squinting. “Why is that the thing you refute—”
“Why does God let these moments happen to me?” You grumble, words muffled with your face still compacted by Richie’s hands.
“I think it’s beautiful, actually.” Says some guy that looks like Fak. You just stare at him with your partially forced closed eyes. “Just the vibes, so— like— tender.”
“Who the fuck is this guy?” You deadpan, pointing at Other Fak. “Has this guy just learned shit I haven’t even told my own father?”
“We definitely just got here.” Lies Fak, next to Other Fak. He continues, “We didn’t hear anything about the really sad way you both actually did attend the funeral but didn’t—”
Other Fak astutely interrupts to add, sniffing. “But if we did it’d be like, like really meaningful that you both like, did that.” Is he tearing up? Richie needs to check your pulse, are you dying?
“Everyone please back the fuck up?” Carmen sighs, behind you, then beside you, letting go of your hand to put it on your shoulder. “Like maybe give two solitary fuckin’ seconds?”
There’s a stuttering of apologies as everyone realizes yeah, maybe a bit much to immediately jump you. Richie drops your face, everyone takes a step back.
You keep staring at Other Fak. Squinting, you point to him. “Ted?” Guy who they called instead of you?
He nods, “Hi—”
“No.” You wave your hand in front of his face, cutting him off. You turn to Carmen, just shaking your head plainly. “No.”
“Heard.”
“Y’know how going to a different barber is like cheating—?”
“No, like I got it—”
“This is like times a thousand—”
“I am hearing the note—”
“Fak can— Neil can fix shit, I took his spot, it’s fair— Outsourcing someone though—?”
“Won’t do it again.”
“No, you won’t.”
“It was— Should I have called you back in?”
“No, you should have had a broken light until we talked it out or let it be broken for the rest of your life.” There is not much you could ever find yourself getting genuinely jealous about— This, however, is a knife to the heart. Another handyman is a child out of wedlock, practically.
“Heard.”
“I spent way too long stalking you.” Interrupts Syd, she’s looking at her phone, a jumble of aggravated misspelled texts coming from the work group chat. “Fuck, I’ve gotta help Tina with clean up— We’ll—” She sticks a hand out, you reach out and hold it, for a moment. “You’re still— We’re still sharing, right?”
You tilt your head, confused, oh— “I’m still gonna sleep in our room, Syd. You weird pervert.”
Syd lets go of your hand, shaking her own hands around her head, talking just as fast as she speed walks away to the kitchen. “I am not a weird pervert, I’m sexually normal, don’t be weird, goodbye! Love you, fuck you, see you later!”
Richie claps his hands, “We’re closing out, so I’ve gotta go pick up vases or some shit— Faks, c’mon—”
“Y’know we’re just regular guests, right?” Says Ted. They let Fak come on the road trip despite not doing a job? Medals of Valor need to be doled out.
“Pbbt, come the fuck on, here boy.” Richie starts to walk off, and the whistling is condescending, but they listen anyway. Rich looks over his shoulder, snapping his fingers at Carmen. “Probationary forgiveness.”
Carmen nods, “Thank you, Chef.”
“Dee-Dee’s here, by the way.”
Carmen’s relaxed posture immediately pulls into a taught physique, he’s considering chasing Richie to get more details. “Isn’t Sug here, too?”
“Yessir!”
“Have they—” “They got grouped at the same table. Unc and Stevie have been keepin’ the peace.” “How’s that going?”
“Your guess is as good as mine!” And with that Richie fades into the crowd of straggling guests and clean up crews.
You don’t know much about Donna, which was a very intentional choice on Mikey’s part. And that kinda tells you all you need to know. You turn to Carmen, pensive. “You wanna go find out?”
He itches at his collar, thinking. “I think if I say I don’t, I’m a bad son.”
“You didn’t ask to be her son.”
“Oh, fuck, okay.” He stumbles for a second, you immediately cover your mouth.
“Sorry! I just—” Inside thought got outside. “I just meant— That was a lot. It’s just like, I dunno, you can’t be bad at something you never opted in for, y’know?”
“No, yeah, that— That’s kind of… a good thought.” He nods, looking at the ground, swallowing the words. “I— I should be a good brother—and—and Uncle, at least. Say hi to Nat.”
You don’t start walking until he starts walking, intent to follow his lead. You’ll stroll casually, until they crop up, making no deliberate effort to find them. You’re both silently hoping you don't. Carmen brings his head back up to you. “You ever meet Mom—? Donna?”
You shake your head, “No, that was kinda one of our few red lines. For Mikey and me. He’d like—” You gesture with your hands as you explain. “He’d talk about her, and I saw like… photos of them from babyhood, but I never met her or heard details— Never like, came over to the house. It was just kinda like a silent agreement. Hard for him and hard for me with the whole— Uh—”
“Drinking thing.”
You nod. “It’s uh— I’m not easily triggered anymore, though, so I think I’m fine.”
Carmen sniffs, scratching his nose. “Well, if you end up not being fine, we can not— Like not talk to her.”
He’s sweet, he’s smart, he’s the cat. You nod. “You don’t have to talk to her either, y’know. Could just text Nat—” “She’s right there.”
You whip your head up in tandem with him saying, “Don’t look fas— Fuck.”
You put the back of your hand on Carm’s chest, you both stop walking. “That’s Dee-Dee?”
“Yeah, with the—the leopard print belt and the floral dress.” Carmen’s been growing meeker with each step. You’d think his biggest fear is clashing patterns. This is not the same bear in the Chicago Tribune. “Why, you— You do know her?”
“She looks fuckin’ familiar…” You kiss your teeth, trying to roll back in your memory— Come on, you don’t forget shit, where is she from? You’ve seen photos but those were blurry and she was so much younger. You remember this version of Donna, you remember her from somewhere.
“Fuckin’ — Something with Pete— I saw her with Pete— Nat’s husband—” You point to him, across from Donna, at the table. “Him, yeah.”
“Just them?” Carmen gently pulls your arm down, you’ve gotta remember your manners.
“Yeah, I was— Oh, I was—” You squint. “Did Donna come to your opening?”
“No, she was invited, but she didn’t show.”
“Okay— So, she did, actually.” “Huh—?”
“She was— She was outside, when you were in the walk-in.” You nod to yourself, still thinking through the memory. “Yeah, she was outside— I thought Pete was like her son— It looked like they were fighting or crying so I just kinda— Kinda let it be. You were locked in a fucking freezer so I chose my battles.”
“Oh.” Carmen nods, trying to make it seem normal in his head. It’s not. And he can’t seem to force it. “He definitely didn’t tell Nat.” Because Nat would’ve told him.
You hum, rocking on your heels. “Yeah there's no chance we're going to go say hi now, is there?”
“Yeah, that might be best.”
You fold your lips in a line, still staring at Donna, she looks normal, which makes it feel even less normal. Way too much to unpack, if you go over there. Instead, you’ll stand here in the middle of the banquet hall, and unpack the carry-on luggage, so to speak. “Christmas is in a week.”
It’s a freight train of realization, Carmen drags his hand down his face. “Fuck me.”
“I know.”
“I have to go, don’t I?”
You frown, turning your head to him, not wanting to say what you’re going to say. “Do you think she’ll plan anything?” First Christmas without Mikey. Will she have the willpower to plan something, like she usually does?
“Oh, fuck me.”
“I know.”
Carmen holds his hand over his mouth, words somewhat muffled. “I’ll ask Nat, see what she’s doing. Baby’s first Christmas, or whatever. That’s a thing, right?”
“Baby’s do traditionally experience time, yeah.” “You n’ that smart mou—”
Despite staring at their table, the two of you did not notice Natalie approaching you, baby Michaela swaddled in her arms. “Oh my God, I haven’t seen normal human beings that aren’t screaming or shitting constantly in so long— Please— Say something normal and fun.”
You pucker your lips, trying to come up with something. “Ah— Fuck, I can’t think of anything— Oh fuck, sorry I said fuck— God— I’m just gonna stop talking.”
Nat lifts her hand up for a moment to wave you off before re-supporting her baby. “No! No, don’t! Say fuck so much. Say it all the time. She can’t understand, she doesn’t care. I wish I was her.”
“Will do.” You just nod, holding a hand up to Michaela, waving. She grabs one of your fingers, holding on tight. You can’t help but coo. “Hey, baby! Have you been fuckin’ with your mom’s sleep schedule? Awe, yes you have! Yes you have!”
Nat laughs and hums, “Richie told me you used to babysit Eva.”
“He’s exaggerating.” You leave your hand with Michaela, but look up to Nat. “There were just some weekends he was working and daycare wasn’t running so I’d take her around the city for a couple hours— More like playdates than actual babysitting.”
“That just sounds like you’re a fun babysitter.” Carmen rebukes, Nat nods.
“I’m good when you only need a second.” You sigh, half taking the compliment. You glance over Nat’s fatigued face. “You need a second?”
“Yes, fuck, could you?” In the same breath, she’s handing you baby Michaela. “She has in fact been fucking with mommy’s sleep schedule— And no one tells you— ‘mommy strength’ or whatever, needs to be developed— My lats— I think they’re lats? Are insane now. Just from holding her!”
You bounce the baby in your arms, sidling her on your hip. She’s a grabber, that’s for sure. Grabbing your hair, your top, Mikey’s chip— No longer tucked under your clothes. You let her. Well— Not the hair— She could cut off her circulation— Relax, EMS. You’re off duty. “How’s it going with—”
Nat knows what you’re asking before you finish the question. “Better than normal, which makes it feel worse. Does that make sense?”
You nod, “Completely and utterly.”
Carmen’s staring at Pete. He’s not typically a snitch but this is his sister, “Did Pete tell you—?”
“That mom was there on our fucking opening and he told her we were having a baby? Yes, about five minutes before she sat down.” Nat says it with a perfectly practiced smile and a simmering anger.
Your hands slip just slightly, you readjust your grip on Mickey. You and Carmen speak together, “He what?”
Nat doesn't mean to ignore your both but she does, “How'd you find out?”
“I just told him.” You pipe up, guilt covers your face. “I saw them when I came that night. Sorry, I didn't realize that was your mom— Or husband, for that matter.”
Sug shakes her head, waving off the apology. “Not your fault, his.”
“Yeah.” Carmen nods, “Back to that, by the way?”
“Yeah, he realized it was kind of a hard lie to uphold— Because mom sucks at acting surprised.” She sighs, “She’s taking it well publicly but I’m expecting a full blown meltdown in the bathroom of which I can’t escape, so. Beautiful wedding.”
“Yeah, those are kind of unavoidable.” You just had one yourself. “Fingers crossed you make it out alive?”
“Oh, I’m making it the fuck out, it’s her you should pray for.”
You have to respect the power in that. “Damn.”
“I didn’t ask to be her daughter! If she hands it to me I’m handing it fucking back—” Nat’s brain is always running like a faucet, she cuts off her own thoughts with a new one. “Christmas is in a week.”
“We know.”
“Fuck me.” She sighs so hard it blows strands of hair out of her face. “What the fuck are we gonna do, Carmy?”
“Was gonna ask you.” Carm’s distracting himself with Michaela, she reaches for his hand, she doesn’t grab a finger, she traces his tattoos. God, babies are cute sometimes. “Can we figure it out later?”
“Yeah, like everything else we do, I guess.” Sug groans. But she just as equally doesn’t want to think about it as him. And honestly, she’s just happy to see him acting like a fucking uncle for once. “Tony, will I see you at work on Monday? You’re onboarding, right?”
You don’t notice the way Carmen’s face stones up, like a secret has been revealed. He’s been preparing for you to say yes. He’s got that Docusign in his inbox, ready to send. Had Nat budget you in. But you don’t seem to be upset about it— Or maybe you just didn’t catch that Carmen selfishly was hoping you’d come right back to him. Maybe it’s just that you don’t think it’s selfish.
“Oh— Uh, yeah, I guess you will.” Michaela starts to smack you for not giving her attention for more than seven seconds. You turn your head to her, bouncing her again, “Pbbt—Pbbbt— Mat leave over?”
“Gonna need to be.” Nat laughs when she says it, like you’re both on some sort of inside joke. Yeah, The Bear’s kind of a nightmare, of course Nat’s always needed. You laugh back, though there wasn’t really a joke anywhere in there.
“Make sure you get your rest.” Sug scoops Michaela out of your arms, rejuvenated from her second of peace. “Your boss is kind of an ass.”
Unfair drive-by, Carmen waves a hand like a white flag, “Alright—”
“I know, I like him anyways.” “Gross.” “I know, it sucks.”
“Okay, okay,” It’s way too obvious how happy Nat is that her brother has someone. “Both of you get the fuck out of here before she sees you, I told her you’d be too busy in the kitchen to say hi.”
She knows her brother, and Carmen’s grateful for it, but, “Are you sure? I can—”
“I love you, Bear.” Nat gives him a kiss on the cheek, and you a quick hug. “But fucking run, seriously.”
Carmen nods, “Heard. Love you, Bear.”
You quickly dash off together, blending into crowds to go unnoticed. Mumbling plans out as you sprint. “I’ve gotta help Marcus close out the bar.”
“I’ve gotta pack up our equipment.” “You’re on the fifth floor too, right?” “Yeah, you’re rooming with Syd?” “Yeah, you and Richie?”
“I got my own room.” “Okay, rich boy.” “I— It’s a fuckin’ Holiday Inn, it’s not that bad—” “Oooh, Charmin gets his first paycheck suddenly he’s all that—” “You wanna come up to my room or not?”
“Oh?” You practically skirt on your heels when you suddenly stop walking, “He’s bold now—”
“I— That’s not— Like we—” He can’t dig himself out of this one, and his darting eyeline is giving him away. “You told Syd you’d still sleep in your room— I just meant like— Like we could— hang out.”
“We could hang out?” “Stop—” “I’d love to hang out, dude.” “We can watch a movie or somethin’—”
You gasp, thought occurring to you. “Yeah, let’s watch a movie. I wanna watch a movie.”
“I don’t like the look that just happened in your eyes.”
“Yes, you do.” Your turn to smush Carmen’s face in your hands, kissing him with a comical, all too wet, and in no way seductive muah—
Which somehow just makes it all the more entrancing, for him. “Yes, I do.”
You smile, letting him go, splitting off from Carmy in favour of your bar. “I’ll meet you in the lobby, go be a good boss.”
“Yes, Chef.”
“How are they not seeing him fuck up the soup— That— A whole pot—” “You’re literally saying exactly what Remy is saying right now—” “I— Good. I’m still mad about the five star thing.”
Carmen likes Ratatouille. Likes it enough to nitpick. He relates to the weird rat with a complex family dynamic and having a brother that means well but fucks with him so much. He relates to the no credit, the starving, the death and desire of feeding the ego, Carmen relates to feeling like a freak in his own kitchen.
It is weird to feel seen by a rat.
But it’s nice to have you in his room, in his bed, watching some dinky little red-head try to survive in a French kitchen. It’s nice to occasionally watch you instead, out of the corner of his eye. He thought of roughly… fourteen more recipes since leaving the bathroom with you? Who would’ve thought that watching someone use a makeup cleansing balm would be inspiring?
What? It melted beautifully. Or maybe you’re just beautiful? Whatever. You emulsified it in your hands. Emulsion? Coconut emulsion would be interesting; very similar creme texture. On top of a souffle? Delicate. But it still needs zip. The glitter from your eyeshadow makes him think of zesting. Lemon zest. Needs more scent, though. Oh, maybe Kaffir limes. That’s a weird dish. That’s never gonna work. He has to get better at subtracting around you.
He’s doing pretty good at not saying I love you, though, so, that’s something.
“The houndstooth pants are cute.” You hum, as Linguini finally kisses Collette— Though by a rat’s volition. A win is a win. You lean into Carmen’s side, watching the movie pirated on his laptop, because hotel tv pay-per-view was so overpriced for no reason. “Oh, fuck, what’s my uniform gonna be?”
“Chef whites, no?” His arm is around your shoulder, it’s nice. “I can get you a jacket—”
“Well, your servers wear black— And I’m gonna be like, like both right?” You turn your head to him. Bad idea. He’s still very pretty, if not prettier in pajamas. “Like, making drinks in the back and then acting as somme out front. So all black?”
“Hm.” Carmen tries not to frown. Tries not to see you wearing black as you being on the other team. “I guess.”
“Richie’s not getting me in a fuckin’ button up, though.” You don’t notice his expression’s minute faltering, crossing your arms, thinking. “Sleeveless black turtleneck? Maybe black palazzo pants, could do what fuckin— Linguini’s doin—”
You point at the screen. “The bright red converse? Could do all black and then bright blue converse? Would that be cute or is that deeply unprofessional?”
Carmen tilts his head back and forth, trying to let you down easy, “I wouldn’t call it deeply unpr—”
“Heard. Okay, maybe like— Like a red bottom heel—” You kick your foot up in the air, for no real reason. A shoe isn’t suddenly going to appear on it for display. “Like not actual ones, duh— Like a black boot and I paint the sole blue—”
“What’s with you and blue?” He's deeply amused, or maybe that's just Carmen's constant state, right now, twirling his fingers through your hair without a care in the world.
“It’s like, Bear colours. You do blue. Aprons, baskets— I guess I’m thinking of The Beef, but like, your lighting is kinda blue.” You shrug. “I wanna match.”
He nods, eyes on the movie, thinking far too much— Well, for the average person. For Carmy it’s a perfectly normal amount of thinking. “All black, blue sole, blue earrings, maybe? White apron for when you’re in the back?”
Please say yes to the white apron. Please say yes to his team. He'll get your initials monogrammed and everything.
“Yeah, that’s a cute look. As long as it’s easy to take off.” You hum. “Oh, y’know, Richie wanted to—”
Speak of the Devil, and he shall call you for the fifth fucking time. “Fuckin— Pause it, hold on—”
Carmen pauses the wonderful rat chef in tandem with you answering the phone with, “I’m not fuckin’ comin’ to pool, Cousin!”
In one ear, out the other. “Fuck you! When are you getting here?”
“I am not getting out of bed to play pool— A game I have not played— With a bunch of fuckin—”
“If you’re not down here in five minutes, Chip, on God—” “I’m gonna fuckin’ hang up again you motherfucker—” “And what? You’ll just answer again, won’t you?”
Richie’s tone gives him away. He’s giggling, bubbly, absolutely tanked on dirty shirleys. But there’s a very genuine joy to it. You’ve answered his stupid meaningless calls every time, the last four times, despite knowing they are in fact, stupid and meaningless. And that is rife with meaning.
You sigh, but you’re smiling. “Yeah. I’ll answer.”
“Good.” You can hear his smile mirrored through the phone. “Sell your Greyhound ticket to Fak.”
“Bitch, fuck no—” “We can go aroun’ the city tommorow! We’re closed! C’mon have some fuckin’ fun before you start working in hell!” “We’re gonna be stupid New York tourists?” “Eva wanted me to get her face on some m and m’s—” “You want me to come with you to the fucking Time Square M and M store?”
That’s when Carmen shoots up, shoulder against yours, panickedly muttering into the phone, “We cannot go to Time Square a week out from Christmas.”
There’s a pause on the other end of the line. When you realize why there’s a pause, you shut your eyes tight, knowing exactly what you’re gonna get. Carmen realizes after watching your face scrunch up, he puts his face in his hands, “Shit—”
“You’re fucking Carmen!”
“No—” “You said you’re in bed! His bed?!” “We’re watching Ratatouille—” “Without me? You’re coming to the fucking M and M store— Also that big ass toy store—” “This is not a betrayal—” “Matter of fact, we’re gonna go see that big fuckin’ tree, too—” “You just want me to drive us home because you’re gonna be too hungover.”
“No, I want you to drive us home because I love you.” Richie’s slurring when he says it, like it’s some sort of gotcha. “So fuck you, actually.”
Carmen bites back laughter next to you, you just shake your head, tutting. “I love you, too, Cousin.”
“If you loved me you’d come play pool.” “I don’t fuckin’ know how to play pool!” “We’ll fuckin’ learn you somethin’ then!” “Fuck off! I’m already coming to fucking Time Square with you, don’t be whiny.”
“You’ll come?”
You massage your brow bone, “Syd’s not gonna wanna sit next to Fak on the bus, you got room for four?”
“Yeah, but someone’s gonna have to sit on the console.” “I nominate Carmen.” “I second the nom.”
Carmen, now with two votes to sit on the console up front, presses his face into your shoulder. “What the fuck—” You peer down at him and whisper, “We’ll do shifts, don’t worry.”
“Put me on speaker phone.” “You’re talking so loud that Carmen can very clearly hear you.”
“Put me! On speaker phone!”
You put Richie on speaker phone. Carmen clears his throat, gruff, “Yo, Rich, can we finish the fuckin’ movie?”
“Patience is a virtue, or some shit. D’you see the resos?”
You mouth to Carmen, ‘Reservations?’ Carmen nods. “Yeah, I saw.”
“Gonna be fucked.” You frown when you hear that, but don’t want to interrupt. You silently word, ‘What happened?’ Carmen puts a finger over his mouth, he’ll explain in a second.
“Gonna be fucked, yeah.” Carmen sniffs, swiping at his nose. “Good kind, though.”
“Yeah. Good kind.” There’s a sigh from Richie on the other end, that heavy sigh. Practically sobering up with just one sentence. “Christmas is in a week.”
“I know.” Carmen kisses his teeth. This is going to be the worst, for all of you. The missing link is going to be all too apparent. “Good time to be busy.”
“Good time to be busy.” Richie echoes. “Only way out is through.”
“Heard.” Carmen nods, what else is there to say? “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“Aright. Don’t fuck in a fuckin’ Holiday Inn Chip’s worth mo—”
That’s when you interrupt, “Alright, what a wonderful phone call this has been goodbye, fuck you, love you, don’t call again, be safe!” You hang up before Richie can reply, head flopping over.
There’s a long silence before Carmen speaks again. “...I’m not tryna do that by the way—”
“No, I know, I’m worth more than a Holiday Inn.”
Snorts of laughter fill the stale air of this shitty little Holiday Inn one bed. Carmen pulls you back into him, arm on your waist. Before you can start the movie again, though, you have to ask. “Reservations fucked?”
He hums, tucking your hair back so he can see the side of your face better. “We started taking reservations last week— Just to test it out. N’ it was goin’ smooth but ‘tuh…” He squints. “Trending today with the whole uh— Chef thing. We’re kinda booked full ‘til the end of the year. And January.”
“Oh shit.” Word on the street is true. Any advertising is good advertising. Even when promoting the wrong fucking website.
“Yeah, good kinda fucked, but like. Fucked.” Carmy nods, and after a second, grabs your hand. “But Christmas— Christmas Eve ‘n Christmas is off— And New Years— So, so you won’t be overwhelmed, hopefully.”
Your brain is already shooting miles ahead, you’re mentally back in Chicago, already. “We really gotta get on that cocktail menu.” There’s so much to do. New job, new menu, Christmas—
“And coffee.” Carmen sounds calm when he says it, which is deeply unlike him.
“And coffee.” You echo, eyes distant. You shoot back up. “Fuck, road trip is gonna be such a time sink. Okay— Well, okay— We’ll just— I’ll make a list tonight—”
You’ve gotta figure out your hours. You don’t want to lose Chicago’s Kindest completely— Can’t be available 24/7 anymore, though. Mattina Tony’s gonna hate that. But he’ll be happy for you. Gotta tell Eden’s Club you’re not going to pick up shifts anymore. They’ll say they’re happy about it, but curse you behind your back. That’s fine.
“List for what?”
“Christmas shopping.” Your eyes flick to him, still thinking. “I win Christmas every year.”
You’re getting Richie new cufflinks— But what of? Can’t just do initials, that’s lame. Fuck, what do you get Carmen? Can’t just do something cooking related— That’s lamer. But it’s also like— His only hobby.
“Don’t think that’s how Christmas works.”
“It fully is. And being in Time Square is gonna widen the fuck out of my search radius. Fuck what do I do for Syd? Fancy knife? They sell fancy knives here?”
Carmen shrugs, “I know a guy in the area.”
“Fantastic. I’ll get a list, you’ll help me out with stores. We’ll get coloured pencils at FAO, we’ll draft up a rough menu on the way home—” “Hey—” “It’s twelve hours of driving, so I think we can get a good chunk done. And then test out and finish on Monday—” “Baby—” “I was thinking we could do a section of house cocktails and coffees named after Chefs—” “I said don’t work on it—” “So like, each one would be themed after what I think of when I think of you—”
Carmen grabs your face with both hands. “Tony.”
“Carmy.”
“Cannot believe I’m saying this to another person, but loosen your grip.” He strokes your cheekbones with his thumb. It’s nice. “You don’t have to do it all.”
It's a long silence of just staring back at him, so much so Carmy’s worried he has failed at this whole self-help thing. But then, you say, “Sara’s a good fucking therapist.”
“She’s got a pretty flexible schedule, too.”
Your face is still in his hands, you’re basically unblinking. “I think you’re a pink pepper aperol spritz with a slice of grapefruit. Maybe like a cherry syrup rim? Or is that too much? That might be too much.”
Carmen sighs in a way that sounds like a laugh. “How many drinks have you made in your head?”
“Just that one. But I think Richie would be something with whiskey and peaches— And somethin’ about Syd makes me think about figs, I don’t know why, which would go good with—”
Carm pinches your cheek, frowning, though there’s an admiration to it. “I said don’t work on it.”
You push his hands away, “I haven’t written anything down! I can’t stop my brain from thinking! How many fuckin’ plates do you have in your head?”
He thinks, tilting his head back and forth. “A couple.” It’s a lot more than a couple. “They’re all bad, though.”
“Bad, how?”
“Bad, like weird.” Carmen gestures to the dimming screen of his laptop. You shake the touchpad awake. Rat chef is inspiring, and a good reminder of what he's meant to do, as are you. “It’s uh, it’s a good movie. It’s good to make new shit. But like, I need to be controlled.”
You tilt your head, “I don’t think so.”
“No?” Despite the fact that you’re disagreeing with him, there’s a happy hum, in Carmen’s voice.
“No. I think we should make really bad weird shit. At least in like, R and D.” You lean back down, against him. “Gotta try it before you brush off the idea. That’s the fun thing about art, y’know? Might work, might not.”
“I think that’s life.”
“Life is art, art is life, food is both.”
“Woah.” “That was kind of a bar, wasn’t it!?” “Kinda tough.” “What’s your bad weird idea?”
“Steak with pop rocks.”
“Oh my god.” Your eyes go wide, but with a smile. Shocked but delighted. It's absolutely going in Carmen's top five favourite expressions of yours. You lean into him further, back of your hand slapping his chest.
“I know, but I was thinking the sugar would be good—”
“Like a sort of maple or sugar curing thing?” God, you just get it. And you give a shit about getting it.
“Exactly, n’ then it makes you like— Like salivate.” “I don’t think it’s that crazy an idea.”
He’s so excited to have someone encourage his ideas, for once. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” You nod assuredly. “We should do it. Try it, at least.”
“Okay. Cool.” Carmen tries and fails to not light up at the prospect of ‘we’. “You’ve still got a hard out at twelve?”
“Syd said she will be knocking violently if I’m not back at midnight on the dot, yeah.” You unpause the movie. “And she’s gonna be pissed when I tell her I’ve volunteered us for a tourist spree, so I gotta be on her good side.”
Carmen shrugs, turning his attention back to the movie, arm around your shoulder. “It’ll be fun, if you’re there.”
It gives you both away.
Every sentence gives you both away. The way you speak, the way you act, the way you pose. It gives you both away. The way he moves your hair out of your face so you can see the movie clearly. The way you lift your head so he can tuck his arm under the pillow, so it doesn’t go numb under you. All without asking. The way you see each other, the way you are constantly doting and thinking of the next thing you can make the other—All without checking in. The Berf shirt you wear for pajamas, your refilled toiletries in his hotel shower. The domesticity comes all too easy to both of you. It gives you both away.
“Remy kinda sounds like Carmy, y’know—” “Don’t.” “My petit chef!”
You say I love you in every way but the way that makes it weird and bad and stupid and too soon.
“Good God.” Is the first thing Sydney says, when you return to your shared hotel room. Face and voice filled with disgust, that is really only half sarcastic. “You’re beyond saving.”
You push past her, bumping shoulders as you do, smiling all the while. It’s nice that she can see you again. Even if she’s seeing that you’re down bad. “I didn’t even say anything—”
“Yeah, no, it’s that face on your face— God, it’s over—” “Baby, just say you’re happy for me.”
“I—” Syd blinks, rapid, hands in the air. “I’m happy for you— Tentatively.” Pending Carmen. Probationary forgiveness.
“Thank you. I’ll take it.” You squat down to grab a water bottle from the mini fridge, when you do, you’re able to give Syd a once over.
She’s adorned in an old jazz club shirt from your highschool, boxers, and a long bonnet so old you recognize it. You recognize all of it. It’s nearly enough to make you cry.
Funny, she’s thinking the same thing. Together, you speak.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call.”
“Jinx!”
“Double jinx!”
“Triple Jinx!” It’s on the third one that you decide to let her win and not say it a fourth time.
It’s on the fourth one that Syd decides she doesn’t want to win. “Quadr— Man, this sucks.”
You know exactly what she means. You fall out of your squat, sitting on your butt with a frown. “It literally would’ve just taken one phone call.” You could’ve been doing this for years.
She sits down next to you, back against the front of the bed. “There were a lot of moments, where I thought to call you, honestly.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Like uhm—” Syd’s face scrunches up her face, she’s already opened her mouth so she has to tell you, but she’s realizing she probably shouldn’t tell you. “There was this fucked day at The Beef, where we set up online orders, and I forgot to tick off pre-order—”
You unscrew the bottle cap, squinting. “I feel like that should automatically be off.”
“That’s what I’m fucking saying!” She slaps your knee with the back of her hand, “But uh, no it was fucking on— And we got like— Like fucked— Said that already. Hundreds of orders. And it was so much and and— Richie was, at the time, kind of a dick—”
“You don’t have to mince, I know what he was.” You take a sip of water, nodding. He’s a work in progress, as are you all.
“He was being a bitch and— And— I might’ve maybe lowkey stabbed him.”
“Holy fuck?!” You have to laugh, out of sheer shock. You choke on your water. “Syd?!”
“It— Swear to God—” Syd raises one hand, and puts the other over her heart. “Was an accident. Like— Like I was saying I would, and also I was like— Thinking about it— But I didn’t mean to actually do it— Like he walked into it—”
“Jesus Christ, Manslaughter Sydney—!” “No! …A little. On occasion.”
“You ever wanna stab Carmy?” “Oh, all the fucking time.”
“Fair.” You hand her your water bottle when you spot her looking at it. You see each other, you take care of each other, without being asked.
“And after a brutal stabbing—” “It was barely a graze, to his ass.” “—You thought to call me?”
“Yeah. You’re like. I dunno. I—” She sighs, taking a beat. “I’ve heard people talk about like— When they’re in a life or death scenario, or panicking, their first thought is like ‘I gotta call my mom’.” Syd clutches onto the water bottle like it’s a life preserver. “But I like— Like I don’t have that instinct, duh, dead mom club— But like, like my instinct when I’m scared is to call you.”
“You should’ve.” You want to take her hand, but don’t. Still working on that hesitation. You’ll both get there.
“You should’ve, too.” Syd lightly punches your knee. She tucks her lips in a line, thinking. “I would’ve been there.”
“I think I kinda got stuck in the same thought Mikey had, with Carmen.” You prop your knee up, hugging it to you. “Didn’t wanna drag you down with me. Didn’t want you to know I— That I’m not really uhm— That I’m not all that great.”
“I didn’t ask you to be great.” Syd says it before she thinks it, and it’s enough to make your eyes water. In a good way. She continues. “I didn’t ask you to be my somme, either. I always thought you were cool. I would always think you’re cool.”
“I…” You clear your throat, controlling your micro-expressions poorly. “I— I know. I think I just… Always do too much? Like I do everything to make myself like— Needed.”
If they need you, they can’t leave you. Though, that didn’t really stop you two from growing apart, so there goes that theory.
“You are needed.” Syd nearly rolls her eyes at you, but realizes that might be insensitive.
Syd could’ve called Terry, when the walk-in door broke. She called you. Syd could’ve called Claire— They’re not all that close, but she could’ve, when Nat went into labour. She called you. Syd could’ve called Fak, when Carmen’s oven broke. She called you. It’s insane that you’d ever think you weren’t her lifeline.
But she clarifies anyway, “Not that— Not that you need to be needed though, for me to want you around.”
You snatch the water bottle from her. “Well, I know that now.”
“Good.”
You all but chug the water, God you’re dehydrated. Syd laughs, “It’s not gonna fucking run away from you.”
“We don’t know that for sure.” You grin, screwing the cap back on. Sniffing, you sober up a little. “We’re never not gonna be friends again.”
“Yes, Chef.”
“Lest you go full on He Had it Comin’ on your fuckin’ co-workers again.”
She scoffs. “I promise to try to not stab someone in your presence.”
“Deal.” You both laugh. You put your hand out to her, and without confirmation, do a handshake that must be more than a decade old. Dap, up-down, jellyfish out. Though, for your purposes, squid out.
Incredible, you’ve hit Syd with love and nostalgia, she has to say yes now. “We’re roadtripping with Richie and Carmen instead of taking the Greyhound.”
“It’s so crazy that you think that’s gonna happen—” “It will be fun—” “Define fun for me, right now—” “We can get Christmas shopping done—”
“Fuck. Christmas is in a week.” “I know!”
Syd scrunches up her nose. “What do I get my dad?”
“Sounds like you need to do some window shopping.” You could probably recommend something if you thought about it for two more seconds, but then you wouldn’t have an excuse to drag her along. “We could go to a Tiffany’s or something.”
“What and get him a locket?” “I’m honestly just naming stores, at this point.”
She’s thinking about it, really thinking about it. “...Could go to the MET, go through the gift shop. He’s a tchotchke guy.”
You hum, nodding. You can get her to fold. “Look at some expos, get some artistic inspiration?”
Syd’s eyes roll back, and she rolls her head back with them, head on the edge of the bed, in dismay. “...Are we doing gifts?”
You shrug, “Was thinking I’d get you a little something.”
“So super over the top and extravagant?” “What’s the fun in telling?” “I hate you.” “So you’ll come?”
She sighs, husky. “Yeah…” She says it like she’s upset but you both know Syd is a little excited.
You pump your fist, delighted. A win.
A comfortable silence fills the room. You flop your back down on the floor, laying on the carpet. “Thank you for helping Carmy.”
“Didn’t do much.” Syd shrugs, lazily turning her head on the bed to you. “He just needs pushing, sometimes.”
You hum, nodding. “Well, thank you for pushing.”
“You’re so welcome, dude.” You both laugh, and after another long gap of silence, she kicks you. “Stop lying on the dirty ass hotel floor, we paid for a bed.”
“There’s something about laying on the floor, man.” You shake your head. “Get down here. I can see the scope of the universe from down here, actually.”
With a profoundly deep sigh, Syd rolls over to you. Your shoulders touch as you both stare at the ceiling. She hums, pointing to the popcorn tiles. “Oh yeah, secrets of the universe, right there.”
“I told you.” You nod, wisely. You frown. “...When do you think it’s like, too soon, to say ‘I love you’?”
“Oh my fucking God it’s that bad—” “Just answer!” “Definitely right now is too fucking soon!” “Well, yeah, I fuckin’ figured—!” “I’d say like, another month or two, minimum.”
“I think I might explode, by then, if I’m being honest.” You turn your head to her. “I’m really worried I’m gonna forget I haven’t already said it and I’m gonna say it at a stupid moment and it’s gonna be lame and embarrassing and bad.”
Syd turns her head to you. “Yeah, that’s probably what’s gonna happen.”
“Okay, so you’re no fuckin’ help.” You snort.
“What do you want me to say? You love to the point of embarrassment.” She shrugs, smiling at your demise. But then Syd sobers up a little, turning her body to face you, leaning her head on her hand. “Are you sure, though?”
“I think so, yeah.” You cross your arms, nodding, assuring yourself, practically. “I feel what I think can only be described as emotionally violent— affectionately. And I think that’s what love is. Pretty sure.”
“Hm.” Syd watches you watch her. You’re absolutely getting lost in your own brain. She pokes the space between your eyebrows, you wake back up. “What’s in there?”
You blink, “Thinking of all the worst ways I could say it.” In front of everyone, accidentally while saying goodbye, off-handedly while hanging up, over text, and so on and so forth.
“Okay, that sounds awful and unproductive so let’s go to bed, huh?” Syd grunts, sitting up. She reaches for your hand to help you stand up with her. “Just try saying it normal.”
You take a breath, looking her in the eyes, say it normal. “Love you.”
“Yeah, just say it like that.”
“Oh, so I can say it—” “In two months.”
“Wait, is one more month hard off the table now—” “Now it’s three.” “Fuck, it’s gaining interest?!”
Just try to make it to next year without saying it, you’d take that happily. Just make it to Christmas. Okay, maybe just make it until you get back to Chicago…Maybe just take a vow of silence.
You shake your head, coming back to reality.
“Wait, what the fuck, Syd, say it back!”
wooooo
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Hiya love, I don’t know if your requests are open and if they aren’t feel free to delete/ignore but I was wondering if you could do Jack, Quinn and Luke reacting to older Hughes sister bringing her boyfriend to the lake house and they’re so cute the three are trying so hard to hate him they just can’t?
yess babe this sounds so fun!!
PSA i lowkey read it wrong and instead of older hughes sister, i did younger hughes sister. uhm... i had already written so much i couldn't figure out how to fix it so we have to stay this way. IM SORRY BAE
MR PERFECT
like your brothers, you didn't live at home anymore. in fact, you didn't follow in luke or quinns footsteps. university of michigan was not your school, university of tennessee was. you moved down there with a full-ride scholarship for softball. down in tennessee, that's where you met a boy.
this boy's name is grayson, and unlike you, he didn't actually attend your college. you met him at one of your games. his sister was on your team, and you had accidentally run into him when you were on your way out of the stadium. he had a nice southern accent, and was raised to always treat a lady right, at least that's what his mama told you.
now, after a few months of dating, and meeting his family; it was time to meet yours.
"they don't have a thing against us southerners, right?" grayson asked, clearly nervous to meet your parents, even more nervous about your brothers.
"calm down, gray. they're gonna love you." you spoke softly.
you took one hand off the wheel and grabbed his hand in yours, lacing your hands together. he let out a breath before bringing up your twined hands and kissing the back of yours.
"you promise?" he asked, his free hand resting on the door with the window down. his hand gripped the top of the door loosely.
"promise, gray. my parents already like you from the stuff ive told them." you told, turning down your road.
his grip on your hand got a tad tighter. "i think i'm more nervous about your brothers." he confessed.
you sucked in a breath through your teeth, your grip tightening on his hand now instead. "id love to reassure you, gray, but they can be such overprotective dicks." you admitted.
grayson nodded, clearly nervous. his nerves just flared up more as you pulled into your lake house driveway. hesitantly, he removed his hand from yours and got out of the car as you put it into park. your parents were already walking over, your brothers on the porch. grayson walked to your side of the car and opened the door for you.
smiling, you turned the car off and grabbed his hand, getting out with his help. you turned to your parents who were just a few feet away from you, grayson shut your door for you.
"hi mom- dad" you smiled, pulling them both into a hug. ellen laughed slightly as jim just smiled.
"god sweetie, we missed you so much. its so weird knowing you're down in tennessee." ellen told.
footsteps approached, many of them at a time. your brothers came behind your parents. "weird to be in tennessee, but its fun."
you removed yourself from your parents before being swept off your feet by your closest brother, luke. endless hugs came from your brothers before they all finally left you alone so you could introduce the boy you brought home.
"grayson, these are my parents: ellen and jim." you pointed to them. "and those are my brothers: quinn, jack and luke." you told.
"everyone, this is my boyfriend, grayson."
your parents were overjoyed, welcoming the boy with open arms. your older brothers though, weren't as welcoming. as soon as the word 'boyfriend' left your lips, they all looked at each other. quinns arms crossed, jacks eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and luke just stared.
you noticed their behaviors and how uncomfortable grayson felt under their gazes. you sighed and grabbed graysons hand. "we'll be unpacking for a bit."
-
quinn didn't like grayson, or he tried not to, just like his brothers. who does this... cowboy think he is? thinks he has a chance with his little sister? the girl who plans on moving to a big city, becoming journalist. he would only drag her down.
though, unlike jack or luke, quinn noticed the way the boy looked at his sister. grayson looked at you as if you hung the moon. like you were the reason he was alive, breathing, why his heart was beating. sure, he knew the look of love all too well due to his parents.
but this look, this was more. all of graysons love poured out through his looks. he loved to look at you. it made quinn loosen up a bit.
-
jack definitely didn't like grayson. the way he dressed, jeans and timberlands. who does that in this weather? the cowboy hat must've been way too big for his head too, it kept falling in front of his eyes.
the way he talked. he knew his parents were comfortable with grayson due to calls before, but how was he allowed to already call them 'ma and pa?' or when he spoke to the boys, his accent was almost forced away, but with you his southern drawl was at its peak.
the way he walked. god, did your boyfriend not learn how to properly walk when he was younger? okay, maybe jack was being a bit too harsh. but this was his little sister we're talking about. he had to make sure she only got the best.
but like quinn, he noticed something. it wasn't the looks quinn noticed, but it was they way he talked to you, and about you. when grayson talked to you, his voice was always soft, never raising even when in a playful mood. he also seemed to do his best to not swear in front of you, even when the word 'fuck' was said in about every five sentences that came out of your mouth.
and the way the boy talked about you? you may have well been an angel in his eyes. he always brought you up, even if you had no relation to the topic. grayson made sure you somehow related to it.
but that didn't mean jack liked him.
-
luke disliked him... moderately. his main reason for disliking him was because he was scared the boy would take you away. growing up, you and luke were the closest due to being a year apart from each other. the smaller age gap between you two compared to the others gave you guys a strong bond.
luke called often. before, during, after games, practices, sometimes even parties. every now and then he loved to call you his twin, even if it wasn't true. no one would really be able to tell.
but like the other two brothers, he disliked grayson whilst noticing one thing the others didn't: how he touched you.
now, luke didn't want to think about any weirdo guy even poking you. but he saw how grayson was with you. the southern boy was gentle. his touches were feather like when in front of your family.
graysons hands never traveled lower than your hips, and even then, he did his best to be polite and make sure you were comfortable. if you two were on the couch together, his arm around you would rest on your shoulder. his thumb would gently rub your skin back and forth. grayson was just polite.
-
the brothers couldn't pick him apart. oh, how they wanted to hate him, but he treated you so well. and all the individual things they noticed he did? you did them as well, and collectively they saw that.
the three boys realized how much grayson meant to you, how much you meant to him. you two were good for one another, and instead of trying to force you two apart, they made sure no one could come between you.
#hockey#jack hughes#nhl#nhl imagine#nhl hockey#quinn hughes#new jersey devils#new jersey#luke hughes#vancover canucks#canucks hockey#ellen hughes#hughes brothers#hughes sister#younger hughes sister
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a hot welcome (modern!aegon targaryen x reader)
cw: smut, p in v, fingering, reader is a virgin, aegon targaryen is a perv, daeron bff,
a/n: i am not really satisfied with this, but i had to finish it. anyway, i am logging out for some time. see you soon!
"I need you to help me pack, Daeron."
"No you don't, do it yourself. In case you forgot, I have to pack too."
Since you two became friends in freshman year, you were inseparable. You helped each other study, you hung out all the time and now he asked you to accompany him on his trip to visit his family, since they lived across the country.
"I thought you were finished! We have to leave in an hour!"
"This is why you don't have any friends. You think anyone would want to put up with this?"
"And this is why you don't have a girlfriend!"
You could've gone for hours like that, but it was really time to go.
Thirty minutes later, you were finished, and on your way.
The flight was pretty short, and you felt the nerves kicking in. The main reason Daeron asked you to come with him was that he didn't really like his family. Especially his brothers.
And from the stories you heard, you weren't a fan of them either.
Aegon was a drunk and a pervert (not Daeron's exact words, but your conclusion) and Aemond was cold and distant, emotionally unavailable probably.
Helaena was fine, she even visited a couple of times. Daeron rarely came home and his mother was very worried. She made him promise that he'd come once the school year was over.
You really had no other friends. You were glad you met him, but other people tend to be loud and too much work. You hated that.
Alicent picked you up from the airport, visibly on edge, because she wasn't very present during Daeron's childhood, but he never mentioned it. Not once. He was asking about his siblings and their pets and Alicent's new potential boyfriends. He was really nice and you loved him because of that. You tried to join their conversation, but failed so you kept quiet until you came home.
Once you got into the house Helaena was the one who greeted you, with a smile and a spider crawling up her arm.
"Oh my god! Wait, you have—" I tried to brush the little creature off, but she just laughed.
"That's my new pet. Wanna hold him?"
"Uh... Yeah, sure." She was kind and you really liked Helaena, you'd also like to get to know her better.
"Stop bothering her, sister. She just got here." It was an unfamiliar male voice and he was walking down the stairs.
Unkept shoulder length hair, dirty mouth and half closed eyes? Yes, that was Aegon.
"Why? So that you could bother her? Leave us alone."
You recognized him from Daeron's stories and he wasn't exaggerating, everything was on point. You could practically feel, not the mockery, but the perverse part of him coming to the surface.
"Hi. Aegon, right?"
His smile was twisted. "And for how long will this pretty thing be staying with us, Daeron?" He was walking over to the kitchen and your friend frowned at his brother.
"Aegon, don't."
"What?" He laughed, "It was merely a question."
Later that day, Daeron showed you your room, it was a guest room, larger than the apartment you shared with Daeron. His family was pretty wealthy.
If you'd only looked at Aegon, you could never tell.
While you were unpacking, you sensed someone's presence behind you, but before you could turn around, he was already sitting on your bed, looking like a very happy puppy. Who might do things to you if you let him.
"May I help you?"
"Yes, at least I think so. If you cooperate."
"Have you been drinking?"
"No," he giggled, he actually giggled.
"Would you please get out?"
Aegon got up and instead of leaving the room, he closed the door. You two were alone in your temporary bedroom.
"Aegon. Please get out, I don't want anything to do with you." But that was a lie. A big, fat, lie.
You wanted him to ruin you to your core, until there is nothing left for him to take. You never even had your first kiss.
It was the attention. Nobody gave you this much attention in your life, at least not in that way.
"Liar, liar, pants on fire..."
"You are so drunk. Isn't it almost dinner time? Are you going out?"
"No. Just came here...For you."
He stepped closer towards you and the back of your knees hit the bed. If he decides to come any closer, you'll have to crawl over your bed which you don't plan on doing.
Aegon could practically smell the innocence on you. It made him go mad. It made him go into his room and drink the whole bottle of wine in a heartbeat, only to be brought into your room, while you were bending over that bed, unpacking.
Daeron warned him, but he didn't give a shit. He's going to have you, one way or another.
Now you were all flushed, waiting for his next move and he didn't plan on wasting any more moments.
His hands were in your hair and in a second he was pulling you in and kissing you, devouring you and Aegon tried to slip his tongue inside your mouth, but you were still too stubborn.
You pulled away, pressing a hand over your mouth, like you've done something sinful. He loved the taste of you, and he wanted more of it.
"You..." You couldn't even look at him. How he wanted to spread you on that very bed until you can't walk.
He was ready to continue, but there was a knock on the door. Daeron.
"Dinner is ready. Mother already called, but I wasn't sure if you heard..."
"Coming!" You managed to get out, but your voice was shaky. Your face was burning.
During the dinner everyone ate silently, and at some point you could feel Aegon's knee brush against yours while he watched you from across the table. You tried to remain calm but your face grew hotter every second. You crossed your legs and he didn't fail to miss it.
His drunken eyes wandered over you, especially your cleavage in a shirt that was a bit more revealing. You forgot about it, but then cursed yourself for wearing it in such a moment.
It was thankfully over soon and you got to shower, finally! You were just finishing washing your hair when you heard the door open.
Aegon couldn't see anything, but you were paralyzed.
He took off his shirt and you had to admit, you wanted to be able to see somehow. You had no idea what his deal was, but it made your knees tremble.
"Aegon, what is it?"
"Nothing." You could see the outline of his body, he was completely naked now and he was walking towards you.
"Stop. I'm getting out. Give me a towel."
To your surprise, he obeyed and tossed you a large towel to wrap around your body. When you slid the door open his naked body flashed you, but you prepared mentally, so you didn't react, and certainly did not look anywhere besides his face and the smug expression he was giving you.
Despite your best efforts, you saw black ink of his tattoos and that was the last straw, you bolted from the bathroom.
It wasn't until you were in your room that you remembered you left your clean clothes there.
You cursed yourself, but took a spare shirt you had and used it as a pajama.
You peeked from your room to see if the bathroom was empty, and when you saw the light was out, you ran to get your things, but what took you by surprise is that the clothes were still there, all except for your underwear. Which was at the top of the pile.
Maybe you left them in your room, you didn't know, but you were too tired to care, anyway, so you got under the covers and took some time to read your book. You were so close to drifting away, but a strange noise awoke you. Like someone was in pain. It was the room beside yours.
No, not in pain, you realized, embarrassed. It was male moaning and occasional whimpering. And it was Aegon.
Was it possible that you got the room that was so close to his? You knew that he was doing that on purpose, touching himself, just to make you even more flustered.
You had trouble sleeping that night, refusing to acknowledge the pain and wetness between your legs. You woke up around four in the morning and decided to drink some cold water and try to calm down. Your heart was hammering against your chest, remembering the sounds of pleasure Aegon was making.
You opened your door, but before you could go down the stairs, you felt someone's hand on your mouth, pulling you backwards, until you were in another room. You didn't even get to panic properly. But of course, when you turned, it was Aegon who was smiling at you. It was almost dark in his room.
"What the fuck?" You whispered.
He didn't answer, but he did pull you towards him and start kissing you, no, swallowing your face would be more appropriate. It caught you off guard, but you weren't mad. You wanted him to take control, you were desperate for it.
"Ever been fucked?" He mumbled in between kissing.
"N...No," you breathed out, every part of your rationality leaving, there was just him, only him. He grinned and seemed quite satisfied with your answer. He wanted to be the one who is going to destroy you.
Just in your shirt, it was easy for him to start touching you immediately, not having to remove any clothing. You gasped at the feeling of his fingertips.
You ended up on his bed, not being able to see clearly, dizzy from the sight of him.
His fingers pulled your underwear to the side and slowly touched your clit, using your wetness to prepare you for him after slipping one finger inside of you.
"We are just getting started. Relax," he whispered the last word in your ear as his finger slid in and out. Aegon kissed your neck and collarbones, just to soothe you before slipping in another finger. He did his best to stretch your walls before entering you.
"Aegon," you covered your mouth with your hand, remembering where you were and who might hear you.
He looked at you like you were a piece of meat he was ready to butcher.
Telling you nothing more, you suddenly felt him rubbing himself against your folds. Teasing you at your entrance, making you squirm beneath him.
"I was going to wait. I really was." He grunted, but continued, "I couldn't do it, it was a perfect opportunity and this is how you're going to spend every night in this house."
Your hips moved, needing him to touch you, bury himself deep inside you. And that's precisely what he did.
He went slow. Just the tip, and then he went deeper and deeper, the pain growing, but it was quickly switched with pleasure.
He slammed his dick inside you, making you cry out in pain, not yet accustomed to him. "You're going to ride me so well, I know it." Aegon's fingers dig deep into your hips.
He even forgot to take off your panties, it was stretched to the side while he kept going in and out, without mercy.
You dragged your nails against his bare back, leaving red marks behind. You realized he probably slept just in his underwear.
He pulled himself out of you, making you gasp at the sudden emptiness.
"Shh, it's okay, come here," he gestured towards himself. Aegon was now laying down and you supposed you knew what he wanted. You were scared.
"But I've never— I don't know how—"
"Nonsense." He guided your hips towards his cock and pulled you down on him, again, very slowly and then started moving you in the rhythm that was good enough for both of you.
You continued as he showed you, his hands were on your ass, squeezing until it hurt.
You felt him deep, throwing your head back, but keeping your mouth shut.
Aegon grunted, but then a moan escaped his mouth, "Do it faster." And you tried to listen to him, you gave him your best and he seemed satisfied enough.
When you reached your peak, you stopped moving completely, letting yourself squeeze him, your thighs trembling. Aegon held your hips in place and then pulled out, but continued to rub himself on your still sensitive clit.
Your moans were what set him off and he came all over his and your stomach, gasping for air once you both fell on the bed beside each other.
"I am going to teach you so many things."
You just hoped nobody finds out. And when you turned your head you saw your missing underwear, sitting on top of Aegon's nightstand still wet.
#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon ii fanfic#house of the dragon#aegon targaryen#hotd#modern aegon#aegon x reader#king aegon#aegon ii targaryen#aegon the second#aegon ii x reader#hotd aegon#tom glynn carney
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ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴇʀ ᴄᴀᴍᴘ - ᴍᴀᴛᴛ ꜱᴛᴜʀɴɪᴏʟᴏ
(part 3) (part 2) (part 1)
summary: you and your best-friend matt, have decided to sign up to be a summer camp counsellor for your school's summer project! will you two stay as just friends? or will this summer turn out different for you guys.
a/n: glad you guys are liking this series, this part is smutty af, but i like it, i might be wrong but i think this is a little shorter than part 1 and 2.
contains: SMUT! fluff, making out, swearing.
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he pulls away slowly as his phone lights up, he scrolls through it before letting out a soft laugh "no way" he scoffs, rubbing his eyes. "tonight were sleeping in the kids hall, like me and you, supervising.."
"you're kidding matt"
"nope, apparently theres a small cabin that connects off the kids hall, its got 1 bed that we share" he laughs
my cheeks flush, sharing a bed with matt, after this?..
-
after my makeout session with my bestfriend ,matt, we both went back to our own cabins, packing certain things to prepare for sleeping next to the kids sleeping-hall.
"xaiveerrr!" i yell, swinging the door to our cabin, hes sitting comfortably on his bed, still wearing his swimshorts as he scrolls through his phone. "y/n! i was waiting for you to come back to the lake?" he says, slightly confused.
"oh i just went into the kayak shed with matt." i smile, trying to wipe the blush off my face.
he raises an eyebrow "why'd you go in there? you totally abandoned me, i had to try make friends with fucking lincoln, hes weird as fuck.."
my mind scrambles, trying to think of a believable excuse for why i disappeared with matt into a dark shed for 25 minutes. i open my mouth, nothing comes out.
silence grows in me and xaivers shared cabin before he interrupts "no way, you kissed matt!?" he laughs, i slam my hand over his mouth "ew no what the hell!" i say defensivley.
"you're getting defenssiiivveee" he teases, my face goes cherry red. "we didn't do anything xaiver." i mutter, walking over and packing my toothbrush and pyjamas in a small tote bag.
"oh girl, i know you're not moving out right now, i was kidding!!!" he says, staring at me while i pack everything i need for a night.
"im not moving out, me and matt have to spend the night in the kids hall."
he gasps "oh my god, its luxury in there, i heard paige and dani were in there the other night, the cabin which you guys stay in is relativly close to the kids hall, so you're not actually in with the kids, its just a private room near it." xaiver says.
"oh thank god, though id have to sleep in a bunk in the middle of the kids hall." i sigh, throwing my tote bag over my shoulder, hugging xaiver goodbye.
"don't have too much fun with matt" he whispers, resulting in me slapping his arm "shut up."
-
I walk down the long gravel path towards matts cabin, its got a small sign outside which reads, 'MATT & LINCOLN' i walk up to their cabin, knocking twice. matt swings open the door, hes got a toothbrush in hand.
"where the fuck is your bag" i laugh.
"bag?" he questions
"yeah? overnight bag, like pyjamas, toothbruhs, face wash..."
his face stays deadpan "oh uh, this is all i need." he laughs pointing to the toothbrush.
"doesn't matter, lets go." i say unlocking my phone and reading the time 7:34pm
matt subtly holds my hand as we approach the kids hall, theres a small cabin about 20 meters away from it, "theres our room!" he says, walking me over to it and swinging open the door, theres one double bed with a book of rules on it. i place my bag down on the bed as matt flicks through the book
"all the campers must be in bed by 9pm, uhh, any complications call jessie in the main office.." he trails off "seems easy enough."
after a few minutes of unpacking matt grabs my hand again, my heartrate increases as he stares into my eyes, "c'mon, lets go check out the kids hall." he says before letting my hand go and walking out into the evening air.
we walk up the stairs to the kids hall, opening the double doors.
theres about 100 bunk beds, with around 200 hundred kids scattered across the room, wall diveders in some parts so its not just an open room, a group of kids are doing gymnastics, another couple are reading, its chaotic but controlled.
i look up at matt, he seems slightly overwhelmed.
instantly three six year old girls run up to us,
"are you guys boyfriend girlfriennddd!" one of them says, smiling up at me and matt. another group of slightly older girls come up to me, "can we braid your hair?"
i look at matt, hes smiling at me, a small blush painted on his cheeks, "yeah sure!" i say as one of the nine year olds pulls me towards her bunk bed, sitting me and matt down.
she giggles as she pulls out two hairbands, tying up matt's hair into pigtails above his head. matt rubs his eyes, as they start placing bows in his hair. "looking good matt" i say, nudging his arm.
-
i check my watch again, 8:55pm
shit.
i stand up from her bunk bed, my hair decked out in glitter hairspray.
i drag matt away from his makeover, "hey, we're just getting to the good part!" matt whines, "matt we have 5 minutes to have 200 kids asleep." i say, stressed, running my hand through my crispy hair.
"you guys have to be in bed in 5 minutes guys! whoever falls asleep first gets a candy!" i yell from the middle of the hall, instantly all the kids leap into bed, screaming as they gather their stuffed animals.
the whole room goes silent, apart from a few whispers, i look at matt whos got a suprised expression spread across his face. i grab his hand before walking towards the door, flicking off the light and stepping out into the night breeze.
we approach our small cabin for the night, matt opens the door, pulling me inside and locking the wooden door behind us.
"we should finish what we started earlier." he mumbles, looking down at me in the dimly lit cabin.
"what?" i whisper, but im cut off by his hand on the side of my cheek, he leans down, pulling me into a gentle kiss.
"we can't matt." i say pulling away.
"why not, you scared?" he teases.
"anyone can walk in or hear us, the walls are paper thin." i sigh.
"who said we have to do it in here?" matt says seductively
"im not fucking you in a public bathroom, thats gross." i sigh, walking over and grabbing my toothbrush.
"come with me." matt whispers, taking my hand and unlocking the door to the cabin. he grips onto my hand as he runs towards the trees, he picks me up, taking me into the garland until theres a patch of soft grass.
he waits for me to say something.
"i think i need you.." i mumble as he lays me on the grass on my back.
"tell me what you want me to do to you baby." he whispers, grabbing the inside of my thigh.
"fuck.. please fuck me." i whisper shakily.
i pull my tanktop off over my head, to his suprise i have no bra on underneath. my nipples instantly become hard as the breeze hits them. i pull down my pyjama shorts, leaving me revealed for him
"its gonna be okay baby, just tell me when." matt says, pulling his sweatpants down.
his length springs out, tapping his stomach lightly.
"oh my fuck-" i groan, throwing my head back as he kneels between my legs, lining himself up with my entrance "you gotta be nice and quiet for me, can you do that for me?" he says, holding my hand.
he slowly pushes inside of me, his length stretching me out, i wince. "breathe." matt says, "look at me sweetheart." he mumbles as he thrusts deeper inside of me, my eyes stay sealed shut. "watch me baby or i'll stop."
he pulls out to his tip, then thrusts back in "taking me so well."
i let out a loud moan, "shut up, and take it." he says slamming a hand over my mouth. his thrusts intenseify, my moans are muffled by his palm. "im gonna fuck-" i groan, "hold it for me." he says, continuing to fuck me. without warning i clench around him, letting myself go.
he abrubtly pulls out, stroking himself a few times as he whimpers, realeasing all over my stomach before collapsing down beside me.
"im so proud of you." he whispers shakily as he pulls up his sweatpants. he hands me my shorts as he stands up, pulling me onto my feet as my legs tremble. "you okay?" he looks down at me, concern spread across his face.
"mmfgh." i mumble out, still processing what just happened, matt chuckles before picking me up and running us back to the cabin.
(the next morning)
I wake up to the godawful sound of dani's voice, i open my eyes slowly looking at her as she looks down at the bed, her arms folded.
i tap matt, forcing him awake. he groans as he yawns, his eyes springing open. his face drops as he sees danielle.
"saw you two last night." she says, her arms folded.
my stomach drops.
"jessie wants you two in her office, such a shame that you have to go home so early, you were only here for such a small amount of time! guess someone didn't read the no romance between staff rule.." she tuts.
"god, i feel soo sorry for you guys, also gonna fail business class cause you couldn't even keep a job here." she says in a fake sympathetic tone.
tears well in my eyes, threatening to fall.
"oh well, go on get dressed and pack your bags, better to be prepared before you see jessie." she sighs before walking out of our cabin.
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taglist which i forgot earlier
@iammattsturniolo @iloveneilperry @tatumrileyslover @chrisstopherfilmed
@leprechaunbirthdaygirl
not too sure wtf just happened none of it workin
#sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo x reader#sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x reader#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo smut#nick sturniolo#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo fluff
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That damm skiing
Summary: Your skiing trip with Lando takes a slightly different turn
Word Count: 1k
Warnings: Nothing bad, some mentions of a ski accident
A/N
Two in a day, woah I don't know what magical motivation fairy visited me but here we are haha.
Hope you enjoy reading it, (P.S. I couldn’t find a good photo of him skiing but snow is snow so yeah)
Love you guys Magdi <3
Lando asked if you wanted to join him on a ski trip last minute. One of his friends couldn't go, so a spot opened for you.
You and Lando haven't been together for that long. So when he asked if you wanted to join, you politely declined, stating you didn't want to intrude on his friend group.
He agreed, even if he wasn't happy with your answer. But after he told you that you could go with them, you couldn't say no to his sweet face and the excitement in his eyes.
That brings you to where you are right now, cuddled up against Lando in a private chat he rented, chatting with Pietra about god knows what.
After you landed, the group made its way to the hotel so you could unpack everything and head to the ski resort as soon as possible.
The room was beautiful, with big windows overlooking the wintery mountain scenery you were in. Lando flopped down on the big fluffy bed as soon as you unlocked the door.
Chuckling, you let your bags fall to the floor and jump on top of him, sprawling out like a starfish.
"Hmpf, baby get off your getting heavy."
Gasping, you sit up, looking at him with an offended expression. "Are you implying that I'm to heavy for your 'overly athletic body' ?!"
Grabbing your waist, he makes you sit on his lap. "What's up with the air quotes? I have an overly athletic body. Look at me!"
He's gesturing all over his body, flexing his biceps in front of your face, and you could've sworn your mouth started to water. But before anything other than 'heavy cuddling' could happen, you heard Max banging his fist on the door that connects your rooms.
"OI, GET YOUR ASSES UP, OR WE'RE GOING WITHOUT YOU!"
Sighing at the same time, you and Lando get up and start to get dressed in your ski clothes.
You spent the whole afternoon skiing or trying to ski (cough, cough, Lando trying to stop cough, cough). Lando's friends were great. They tried to include you as much as possible, which made you feel welcome.
After a quick lunch and some hot drinks, Lando and Max wanted to ski down the more difficult slopes while the rest of you stayed back, not trusting your skills enough to come unharmed out of this.
"BABE COME ON, IT'S NOT AS HARD AS IT LOOKS!"
Lando screamed up to you. He had the crazy idea that it would be fun to ski the most difficult slope, stating it would be 'really fun'.
After some bribing, you finally caved and started to ski down. At first, it was not that bad, you even managed to pick up some speed. But suddenly, you lost control, and the only thing you saw was white.
Lando watched the horrifying scene unfold in front of him, got out of his skis and ran up to you as fast as he could.
"Baby, baby are you ok?!"
Groaning, you turn to look at him as you felt strong pain surge through your right leg. Crying out in pain, you looked at him with a scared look.
"Lando, my leg hurts so much, I think I broke it."
"Okok I'm calling help. I'm right here, baby. Don't worry!"
Your friends started to gather around you, worried about your well-being.
A ski ambulance brought you and Lando down and transferred you to the nearest hospital after your leg didn't stop swelling.
Now, you were lying in a hospital room waiting for the test results of your x-ray. Lando was beside you, feeling immensely guilty for convincing you to ski down there.
"Y/N I'm so incredibly sorry for that."
Tightening your hand around his, you looked at his face. Now, really noticing his guilty expression, and how he wasn't able to look into your eyes.
"Hey baby, look at me. It's true, that wasn't one of your brightest ideas, but I was still the one who skied down there, so it's not your fault."
Thinking for a second, you add," Ok maybe a bit."
Giggling slightly, the two of you cuddled closer together, still waiting to know what was wrong with you.
It turned out that you broke your leg, not bad enough to need surgery but bad enough to need a cast and crutches.
It was late at night when you and Lando arrived at the hotel. Your friends went back a few hours ago, not wanting to have all the fun without you. He wrote hourly updates into the group chat to let them know what was happening.
They all waited for you in the hotel lobby, not wanting to leave you alone. It touched you as Pietra immediately came up to you, asking how you were doing.
After explaining everything, you all decided to call it a night and discuss the rest of your trip tomorrow as sleep started to catch up on all of you.
Lando did everything in his power to make you as comfortable as possible. He built a literal pillow-fort in your bed, helping you into comfy clothes and prompting your leg up to make you as pain-free as possible.
Even after what you told him in the hospital, the guilt was still eating him alive. He felt terrible as your scared face flashed up in his memories again.
Looking to his left, he saw you typing something on your phone, the white cast looking out from under the blanket.
Sitting back, he wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling his head into your hair, breathing in your scent.
"You ok?"
His muffled voice rang to your ears. Looking up at him, you answered his question with a nod and a soft smile.
Cuddling back into his embrace, you felt sleep slowly taking over your body. The last thing you heard was Lando's voice saying, "That damm skiing", before sleep took over completely.
#lando norris x y/n#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#lando norris oneshot#lando norris x reader#lando norris#f1#f1 x reader#mclaren
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my favorite moments from theamandafiles’s confrontation with volo. this is an adult woman talking to a screen for 7+ minutes and im obsessed with it. the dynamic she’s made up in her head for this game is so far from what’s actually happening, but also absolutely fantastic. the sneasler rant has nothing on this.
transcript under the cut:
He is so passionate about his thing, about his special interest. He really is. I am constantly losing my grip on reality. I have no room to judge Volo for a little bit of unhinged laughter and some mildly insane musings.
Hmm? Sorry, I just. I think I just realized what's going to happen. Sorry. Am I an idiot?
That was your—that was you who did the hole in the sky. Okay, mhm, all right. I got blamed for that, Volo, I don't know if you knew that. It's fine. Honestly, it's fine. Just let's keep, let's keep learning more about Volo.
Right, yeah, we did that! We did that, Volo, right? Didn't we fuckin' do that? Why don't we donate them to a museum or something? Wouldn't that be sick? Would that be fuckin' awesome if we put them in a museum for all to see?
What's—what's this? Hey, what the fuck? Who's this? Is this a prank? Surely, with the hair. Because I did not just see that you have a fuckin' Arceus hairdo.
Oh, okay! Volo's crazy! Right, right. Look at the fucking hair. Yeah! No, Volo's fucking crazy—yeah, no, he's a deranged lunatic.
Actually, yeah. Look at his eyes, oh my god. Volo's going to kill me and then cook and eat my remains. It's. It's fine. I'm fine.
Pokemon Wielder Volo? You mean (voice cracks) Gingko Guild Merchant?
You know what, Volo? I'm crazy, too. Look, I can match this. Like you said, when you said you were going to wipe out Jubilife City, I'm all for that. I am all for that. Absolutely! Yes! Let's do it. We can make this work. I am not invested in helping these people. Yeah, we live in a society? Not for long, am I right?
Just, I looked at the costume again. And his hair. He—he did his hair, you guys. And it's... bad.
First and foremost, what the fuck are you wearing? Literally, I keep looking at it. And the more you look, it's like, the more you look, the more you see.
I'm just really unpacking this... as I kick his ass. Anyway, where was I, Volo? Let me just continue to fuck you up. Volo is really doing this. Volo is really doing this. He's doing it in green pants.
He method acted an entire love story between us. Yeah, he is that crazy. He's that crazy, that he's going to let me slip through his fingers. Are you sure, Volo? You really sure? Maybe, like, that was your plan at first. Because if I may be so bold, uh, it's actually not even fucking possible for anyone to spend as much time with me as you have without falling in love with me.
Like I said, I said it before, and I will stand by that—and I'm about to beat you, by the way—
Call me. Call me, Volo! Oh wait, you can't, because we live in the fucking past, and you don't have a phone. And I do. Mhm, yeah. You know, you can't call me on your arc phone because Arceus didn't give you an arc phone, did he? Oh, poor Volo. He did his hair like Arceus and everything. And for what? Right. It was probably the green pants, Volo, honestly. And the gladiator sandals, what the fuck are you doing?
What the fuck was I thinking? God, why do I always go for these crazy ass fucking men?
I don't want to be picked by Arceus! If anything, I wanted to be picked by you! But unfortunately, I'm amazing. And Arceus loves me. I'm sorry that your little fucking hairdo didn't work to impress Arceus, and that all I had to do was literally exist and Arceus stanned the hell out of it.
What, are you going to kill me? He's going to kill me with a knife now just to get me out of the way. Like, what the hell, why does everybody want to fucking kill me?! I get it. I'm the best. I'm amazing. I'm the best that ever was. But murder is illegal, okay?
What is this? Are you fucking kidding me? What is this act? Oh, my god. Volo... this is very camp.
Volo is fucking crazy. Did I even get to heal these motherfuckers? Am I supposed to catch this motherfucker? This Satan ass Pokemon. This is Satan, I guess. And he came to, like, pull up for fucking Volo. Why? The hair? Was it the hair?
Finally, I got, like, a word in edgewise. Finally. Acorn, take this motherfucker out. Yeah. This is embarrassing for you. You're a God Pokémon? Where? You could have fucking fooled me, Giratina.
I do find it very inspiring that my little tugboat-ass Jay Jay the Jet Plane Togekiss, like, ended your entire bloodline. Mhm, yeah.
Volo! Oh, honey, sweetie, are you okay? Are you going to be okay?
He's fucking crazy. He's so crazy, Volo, I fucking love your crazy ass... but this is toxic of me to say, so, I hate it. I hate you. What was I talking about? Yeah. No, you're such a bad guy. You're the bad guy, Volo. I didn't even read that, fuck.
I know, Volo. Believe me, I would have agreed with you when those motherfuckers kicked me out in Jubilife City. I would have agreed if you had come to me then and you would've said, "Let's take down the whole fucking world. Let's end the entire planet." I would have said, "Okay. Yeah. Oh, yeah. Hell, yeah. That's exactly what I want to do right now." But you didn't. And now I'm here, and I'm... being noble, and I'm going to say, "You better stop, because this is not okay. Cut it out."
I'm crazy too, Volo, I'm so fucking crazy. I'm so unhinged, I'm crazy, nobody understands the inner workings of my mind, Volo, you don't get it.
This is your last chance to scoop me up as your partner. Honestly, Volo. That's what it is. I would fix your hair, I would. We would go back to the salon—to the salon!—I would fix it up. It's not that bad. It just needs a little shaping.
(Deep sigh) Volo, you could have had it all. I would have been your crazy bitch. We could have been Bonnie and Clyde, Volo. And we still can, honestly, if you say the word. And let me fix your hair. And also your outfit.
So I also just want to say really quickly, I noticed that you had a Togekiss, and that means that your Togepi that you had in the beginning evolved to a Togekiss. But in order to do that, I think you need to love your Togapi. So it's like, you do—you did have the capacity to love someone.
He's fucking unhinged. He's deranged, he's crazy. Like, why did his eyes go crazy like that? What the fuck?
He actually looks so good right now, like, minus the hair. The hair is so bad. Volo, that is the one and only reason Arceus did not choose you. Honestly, that's all it comes down to. Easy as that!
But I'm putting my thumb actually, on the—I'm putting it on the screen, over the weird part of your hair? I'm begging you. Let's destroy society together. Come on.
That's so sad, he's, like, hanging up his hat. Actually, please put the hat back on. He's giving me something—he's giving me the plate. Spooky plate. Yeah, that's for sure. That's for damn sure, Volo.
Why do you suddenly look so good? You know, you look deranged and crazy like a fucking lunatic. And I could have swore you off forever, but now you look so cute and good. And I'm like, what the fuck were you thinking, Volo? You threw it all away for what, the arc phone? Bitch. It's really not even that good of a phone. Honestly, there's, like, no games on it.
I don't know. I figured like, a true Arceus fanboy would be impressed and enamored by the girl who Arceus is simping for this hard. Like, if you were to date me, I'd literally bring you with me to meet Arceus, and you'd be able to live your stupid little dream.
Although I will say, for someone who so deeply wants me to fail, you giving me that last plate, that spooky plate... I dunno. It's just kind of interesting, and I am reading into it. Yes.
Volo you are fucking out of your mind. You're crazy. I tell you, you're fucking insane. Somebody wheel him off. Seriously, what the fuck? He's going out in public looking like that.
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BiAsBuck’s ficrec Fridays
We're so back baby! Happy weekend everyone, apologies for the delay whilst I've been away travelling. I HAVE been reading lots on my trains however, so here's another round of the fic I've been reading this fortnight whilst not actively flailing over the glorious new episodes. As always you can find previous rec lists here. Some light spoilers for new episodes.
6 October 2024
still the bone remembers, still it wants by @eddiebabygirldiaz in which 'Eddie goes to therapy and learns how to want. Buck helps.' Ohhh I absolutely adored following along on this ride as a wip and now it's complete in all its glory! From his childhood responsibilities looking after his sisters, through the events of season 4 and 5, Eddie struggles with identifying what he wants in life, and Frank gives him homework to make a list of simple desires for just himself. What follows is a beautiful journey of unpacking what's in his heart, with the most gorgeously in love and enamoured Buddie. The imagery in this fic melted me, from the orange tree to dancing and more. Indulgent in the best possible way. I'm still swooning from how much they love and laugh together!
tell you my sins (sharpen your knife) by @sonofatoasterwaffle from sweetness to....Hot Priest Smut! (And yet somehow, still sweet?!) This is gloriously fun and filthy and a little tongue in cheek crack treated seriously, in which Eddie deals with his recognition of his feelings for Buck by fucking a Priest about it....and makes Fleabag eat her heart out. It's 'for anyone who dreams about reclaiming pieces of the religion that hurt them in a fun and sexy way.' Featuring incredibly funny Bobby along the way. Poor guy.
oh what a terrible honor it's been (to learn that my blessings are things you call sins) by @capseycartwright on the other end of the Catholic Guilt explorations comes this 'Hey God, it's me, Eddie. I hope you don’t mind that I’m sitting in your house thinking gay thoughts.' In which Eddie seeks various methods of support in dealing with the fallout from season 7, from therapy to a veterans group to reexamining his childhood and his relationship with God. Really beautifully achey and cathartic and uplifting.
Take My Oxygen (This Plane is Going Down) by @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels ahhh I had so much fun reading this! Buck is a succubus, and the firefam a mix of fae and humans in the know about the magical world. Eddie is a new recruit, and he can't help but find Buck mesmerising as they become best friends. But Buck has been coping with his inadvertently fatal (to his partners) natural state through a series of unhealthy mechanisms and it's taking its toll. When we say Eddie would step over the body to help support Buck...this is this fic! And yet it's also so supportive and sexy and a weaves in canon in such surprisingly effective ways!
the moon don't hang quite as high by @glorious-spoon in which 'after Bobby and Chris leave, Buck breaks up with his boyfriend, tries not to punch his new boss, and worries about Eddie.' I am so incredibly obsessed with the dialogue in this fic, it captures Buck and Eddie's voices and idiosyncrasies so well and the patter of their banter and friendly bickering, particularly how weird they are about their own and each others relationships (affectionate.)
The Write Way To Love by @spotsandsocks this was such a cute AU, in which Buck is an anxious children's fantasy author and Chris (and Eddie) are some of his biggest fans. Running an art competition for children to submit their drawings to be printed in his next book, the elusive E. Buckley makes a rare public appearance and bumps into single Dad Eddie, where sparks fly. Can Buck get over the voice in his head self sabotaging his path to happiness? This fic hit very close to home and I had so much fun reading it, and loved Christopher's voice in it so much!
a sweetheart (to hold when i'm alone) by @clusterbuck at all times on my Give That Man A Cat agenda, directly following on from the zoom call in 8x01, Eddie finds a stray in his back yard, adopts her and falls in love. Things might not be healed with Chris but perhaps they can take tentative steps forward. Eddie holding on to the mask even as it fractures, and yet not giving up, finding inner strength and outlets for all the love he holds in his heart.
cool dry place by @gayeddieagenda 'After a long summer, Buck and Eddie try to figure out if this is the right time.' Another which just nailed the voices so well, I love the patience of this fic, a really lovely look at restraint and allowing grace time to heal and feel surety, without punishing characters for needing time, and with a beautiful sense of precipice for a new relationship.
And finally two tumblr fics from @hotshotsxyz, the taste of iron a powerful alternate ending following 8x01 (what if Buck hadn't tackled Gerrard) with a brilliantly effective mirroring of the shooting arc, and a hilarious Brad Torrence POV fic from 8x02 this method acting (might pay our bills) in which we hear his inner monologue whilst riding in the back of the stolen fire engine with Bobby and Buck. Perfection!
That's it for this week, bee seeing you soon after Athena and Jem land this plane!
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one of the funniest aro traits i have is that i NEVER notice people i know being romantically into each other. they can be the most obviously pining couple in the world flirting ridiculously hard right in front of me and ill just be like wow, look at us three besties all just hanging out :) and then they'll be like btw we're dating now! and ill go WHAT???? oh that was romance??? WHOA. like yay happy for you!!! i just didn't clock it at all whatsoever!!!! (part of this is that im just an affectionate person with my friends and ill happily flirt with my besties and physically lay all over them with absolutely no romantic intent. so i forget that sometimes people are flirty or always concerned with each other for romantic reasons. like. EVERY time it's just oh YEAH... i forgor again...)
anyways, i like to hand this to bart allen, aroace extraordinaire. guy who just straight up forgets romance is real and not something they made up for video games with romanceable companions. he's happy for his friends when they say they're dating someone, bc they're happy so yay! but until they come out and say it he will NOT clock any sort of romance going on.
now i also like to imagine that when the gang are all like in their late teens to early 20s, there's some RIDICULOUS lesbian drama going on. cassie and cissie have been kinda sorta dancing around each order for ages, but then after kon's death and resurrection cassie got distant and cissie and anita started spending more and more time together, and cassie isn't proud to admit it but she maaaay have gotten jealous and fucked rose about it, and now cissie is giving her the cold shoulder. and rose keeps flirting with cissie even though she and cassie keep having unplanned hookups, and anita just asked cassie to be her plus one to a wedding and cassie is shocked she didn't ask cissie and what's going on?! is anita hitting on her??? omg??? wait but what's going on with cissie?? and....
anyway, all of this to say cassie is going the fuck Through it and it's a mess that she keeps bemoaning to kon while languishing on his couch and eating all his ice cream (kon is listening wide-eyed like "wow. if i ever need romantic advice, i'll ask you and then do the exact opposite of whatever you say.") this whole ridiculous affair is going on for months.
until one day there's a core four sleepover and kon is like soooo is it the time of night where we start unpacking the latest developments in cassie's love life? and cassie goes AUURGHGHRHH!!!! yes but oh my god shut up don't say it like that auugghhhh
and bart just looks at her and tilts his head like a puppy dog and asks "wait. you have a love life?? since when???"
silence.
cassie gawks. kon looks positively gleeful.
and then tim starts laughing so hard he doubles over and accidentally slams his head into the corner of the coffee table hard enough to get a mild concussion. bart's aro swag claims yet another victim
#rimi talks#im half asleep in bed with a migraine as i type this and im sure i could phrase it better were that not the case#but as it is i hope it's both funny and clear all the same. aro bart is dear to me. lesbian disaster cassie as well#aro bart who forgets abt romance and lesbian disaster cassie together = prime comedy routine#you see it right??#cassie#bart#kon#core four
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Play Time
Summary: Spencer is curious about a very interesting toy you ordered
Request by anon (originally requested to my friend @imagining-in-the-margins): Spencer is visiting Reader's house when a package is delivered. Reader forgot she ordered a sextoy. Spencer is curious and asks to open it and is surprised. Reader is embarrassed. Spencer suggests they test it out together.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Category: Smut
Content Warning: (18+, minors DNI) Dom!Spencer, Sub!Reader, mild embarrassment, praising, use of a sex toy, female masturbation, unprotected penetrative sex, semi-rough sex
Word Count: 2.2k
Masterlist
What was supposed to be one of your usual date nights quickly turned into something a lot more interesting when Spencer walked into your apartment with a package in his hands. You only noticed him entering your living room from the corners of your eyes, still busy preparing dinner.
"This package was delivered to your doorstep when I got here," he let you know.
"Oh that must be the new book I ordered," you chirped. "Would you mind opening it?"
After inspecting the shape of the package, Spencer had doubts that he would find a book inside the cardboard. Still, he did as asked, ripping open the box.
"Huh," he breathed. "That's interesting."
What he found was far more intriguing than any book he had ever seen. It was a very interesting piece of electronics, something Spencer wouldn't have expected you to buy. He couldn't hide the smirk on his face when he walked over to you, the bright pink box in his hands.
"Is that for when I'm away for work?" He chuckled.
It took you a second to realize what he was holding, already forgotten was the very lonely night you had a few days ago that prompted you to order the toy. You felt heat rushing to your cheeks and your heart-rate accelerating.
"Oh my god," you muttered. "I forgot that I ordered that."
As you tried to grab the box, Spencer lifted his hand until it was out of reach.
"Not so fast," he laughed. "I wasn't done inspecting it."
"Please, Spencer. You weren't even supposed to see it," you begged him, still trying to reach for it.
He handed it to you at last, wondering, "Why not? It looks fun."
Even though he had already seen it, you still tried to hide the box behind your back, your eyes glued to the floor. He gently brushed over your jaw, pushing your chin up until you would look at him.
"Don't be embarrassed," he cooed. "I'm glad you have a way to take care of yourself when I'm not here."
"I have never owned anything like that and was curious, that's all," you confessed.
Spencer placed a soft kiss on your lips before suggesting, "Then maybe you should try it right now?"
Staring at him with wide eyes, you squeaked, "Now?"
He brushed a strand of hair behind your ear before leaning down to whisper, "I would love to watch."
He gave you a few moments to think about it but the warmth spreading through your chest at the thought of him watching you like that was convincing enough.
"Okay," you agreed.
Taking your hand in his, he led you to your bedroom where you placed the boxed toy on the bed. He found your lips in a kiss, deepening it within seconds. Slowly he began undressing you, taking his time to let his hands wander over each patch of skin that was revealed to him.
"We can stop or do something else at any point," he reminded you the same way he always did when you were together like this. "Remember your safeword?"
"Yes," you confirmed.
When the last layer of your clothing dropped to the floor, Spencer pushed you down on the mattress to lay on your back.
"So beautiful," he groaned as he let his eyes roam over your skin.
He unpacked the toy and disappeared in the bathroom for a brief moment to clean it, making you wait patiently on the bed. You let your fingertips dance over your body, already getting desperate for more. Spencer came back into the room and sat down on the bed beside you, placing the toy on your nightstand.
He leaned down to kiss you before his palm brushed down your body, leaving goosebumps on its path.
"Spread your legs for me," he demanded and you did as told.
He let his fingers carefully glide over your heat, noticing how your arousal had already begun gathering at your entrance.
"Getting excited?" He chuckled and you nodded. "You got yourself something very interesting."
He handed you the toy to take a look at it. When he pressed the button for it to turn on, you almost jumped at the sudden vibrations in your hands. You could only imagine how it would feel against your most sensitive spot.
"I want you to use it exactly as I tell you," he explained as he got up to walk over to an armchair in the corner of your bedroom. He pushed it closer to the bed and sat down. "I'm going to watch from here. Are you okay with this?"
"Yes."
"Good. Now turn the toy to the lowest setting and place it," he ordered.
You had expected his eyes to stay on your core but once the toy made contact with you, he looked at your face instead. It took you a moment to adjust to the new sensation, moving in little circles until you found the perfect spot.
Your cheeks must have been glowing by now but you couldn't have cared less. You wanted Spencer to tell you exactly what to do, trusting that he would always take care of you.
"Tell me how it feels."
You thought about it for a second. It was a novel sensation, incredibly arousing but you still felt like you needed more.
"Feels good. Better than my hand," you snickered.
"Better than me?" Spencer teased, already knowing the answer.
You considered answering with Yes just to see his reaction. It was clear that he was not feeling threatened by a toy but you were still curious to know how he'd put you in your place. However, you decided against it. For now.
"No," you breathed. "Not even close."
"Why don't you turn it up," he suggested and you did.
It was surprising how different the toy felt at a higher setting. It was getting very hard for you not to get lost in the pleasure, the strong vibrations against your core already clouding your mind.
Spencer was aware of the state you were in, curious how much you could handle. "Can you take more than that?"
You pressed the button again and your whole body began trembling, everything getting almost too much. It became almost impossible to keep your eyes open but you tried to anyway. When a loud moan threatened to escape your mouth, you bit on your lips instead. Spencer noticed.
"Let me hear you," he groaned.
Your mouth opened to let the sounds of your pleasure escape, earning praise from your boyfriend, "Good girl."
With one hand holding the toy firmly against your center and the other caressing your own chest, you fell over the edge within moments.
"That was fast," Spencer chuckled, watching each of your reactions intently.
Your thighs were still trembling when you turned off the toy in an attempt to recover from the intense stimulation.
"I didn't tell you to stop, did I?" Spencer scoffed. "Turn it back on."
"Spencer, I–," you tried without even knowing what exactly you wanted to say.
"I'm sure you can give me another one," he encouraged you with more kindness in his voice than before. "Try the lowest setting again."
Doing as you were told, you were surprised by how pleasant it still felt. You moved the toy through your glistening folds before focussing on your most sensitive spot once more, a quiet sigh falling from your lips.
Spencer reached out his hand to make contact with your thigh, whispering, "Is it too much?"
"No, it feels so good," you moaned while locking eyes with him.
"God, you look so stunning like that."
You noticed how his hand wandered to the bulge in his slacks, the outline of his erection clearly visible. He touched himself through the fabric, groaning, "You have no idea what you do to me."
Seeing how aroused he was getting from watching you like this felt exhilarating. You got desperate to feel all of him, already missing the sensation of his skin against yours.
"I need you, Spencer," you muttered.
He shook his head, letting you know that he wasn't done with you yet.
"Please," you begged him, "let me look at you at least."
It was as if he took pity in you when he began undoing the buttons of his shirt. He took his time to remove his clothes and you watched patiently, every inch of skin he revealed letting the heat inside you grow until it became almost unbearable. When he was sitting completely bare in front of you, he took his own hardness in his hands, giving himself a few slow strokes as he watched you.
"I need you to come for me," he demanded. "Now."
To follow his order you turned up the toy to a higher setting, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your body. You couldn't help but rock your hips against the toy as your second climax approached.
Spencer kept his eyes on you when you finally fell apart, cooing, "That's my girl."
He sat down on the bed beside you and took the toy from your hand to set it aside. His palm brushed along your inner thigh while he praised you, "You did so well for me."
Despite already having found relief twice, you still yearned for more. Feeling him close to you ignited the blazing flame inside you again. You reached out your hand until your fingertips brushed over the velvety skin of his hardness.
When you wrapped them around him to move over his leaking tip, he groaned in response. Spencer's hand made contact with you as well, dragging his fingers through your dripping crevice before pushing them into you. Your body welcomed the intrusion but it still wasn't enough.
"Spencer, please."
He leaned down to kiss you before breathing, "Tell me exactly what you want."
Without thinking about it, you whined. "I want to feel your cock inside me, need you to fuck me hard."
"My sweet girl," he purred. "How could I ever deny you that?"
He positioned himself between your legs and let his tip run through your folds, coating it with your arousal. You squirmed underneath him, getting impatient to finally feel him inside you. You tilted your hips in an attempt to let him enter you but he just teased you some more.
With slow, almost torturous motions he began pushing his tip into you, watching as you scrunched up your face. He took his time entering you, a sigh falling from his lips when he was fully inside you at last. Your walls enveloped him perfectly as your hearts tried to get in sync deep inside you.
Leaning over you, he placed a soft kiss on your lips before he began thrusting into you with a ruthless pace. Your whole body shook as he did exactly what you asked him for. It was as if your skin was on fire, desperately burning for Spencer's touch.
"Your body was made for me," he groaned. "Look how well you take me."
Your sight followed his to where your bodies were joined. Both of you watched in awe as he kept disappearing inside you over and over again. He was right, you really were made for him, eager to take all he had to offer.
As the room filled with the sound of your joined pleasure, Spencer's movements became erratic. It was obvious how much he enjoyed taking you like this, your body pliable under his touch. Harshly he grabbed your hip, burying his fingertips into your flesh until his markings were left on your skin.
His pupils were blown to the rim and his skin was glistening as he kept pushing into you. Even with his weight on top of you, you felt like you might start floating any second now. You wrapped your arms and legs around his body to bring him impossibly close, no distance allowed between your bodies.
Spencer buried his face into the crook of your neck, mumbling against your skin, "Fuck, you feel so good."
With a few more pushes he found release, throbbing at your deepest point as his essence filled you. He placed lazy kisses against your skin as both of you tried to catch your breath, neither of you daring to separate your bodies just yet.
After slipping out of you at last, he disappeared in the bathroom for a moment and came back with a damp towel. Carefully and thoroughly he cleaned you up, making sure to rid you of the remains of your mixed desire.
"Are you feeling okay?" Spencer whispered, looking at you with the utmost adoration in his eyes.
With half-lidded eyes and a lazy smile you nodded and breathed, "Just tired."
"That's okay," he cooed as he lay down beside you to pull you into his arms. "We can rest for a bit."
"That's usually how we end our date nights. We haven't even had dinner yet," you snickered as you nestled your face against his chest.
"I know," he chuckled, kissing your forehead. "I can’t wait to do that again after dinner."
If you enjoyed reading this story you should check out the other fics in my NSFW Masterlist!
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Imagine this…. for the young daryl X young reader au
Reader has a camcorder which she carries around when her and daryl go on little trips and they end up finding it again after years for whatever reason and it’s a nice little fluffy scene where they relive earlier times together before everything
A Trip Down Memory Lane | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
*GIF isn't mine.*
Summary: While unpacking your things for your new apartment with Daryl, you stumbled across an old video camera you had used to film little moments between you and Daryl in your teen years. A visit down memory lane gives Daryl the push he needed to ask you something important.
Genre: Fluff.
Era: Pre outbreak.
Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams universe.
Warnings: Swearing.
Word count: 1.5k
A/n: This request was so cute! I hope you don't mind that I paired it with another idea I had. It just seemed like it would fit perfectly. And I made Daryl romantic in this because he's a romantic deep down.
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“Dear god, what the fuck was I thinking? That style was horrible!”
Daryl laughed at your comment, pulling you closer into his side. “I think ya looked cute. Kinda like Minnie Mouse in a way.”
“That doesn't make it any less horrible. Polka dots and frilly pink headbands are not my thing,” you laughed, skipping to the next video on the video camera you had found.
You and Daryl were in the midst of unpacking the boxes with all of your things. The two of you had just recently found a cheap enough apartment to rent and were busy organising everything when you had stumbled upon an old video camera that you had used when you were teenagers. Everything else was quickly forgotten as you and Daryl sat in the middle of what should be the living room, surrounded by a bunch of boxes as you took a trip down memory lane.
“Fuck, please tell me tha' ain't me,” Daryl groaned when a younger version of him appeared on the screen. “Jesus, buddy. Ya ever heard of sunlight? It'd do ya good to work on yer tan. Ya look like a fuckin' sheet of paper.”
You chuckled at the comment, nodding your head in agreement. “You do kinda look pale in this.”
“Looks like I needed at least 50 blood transfusions. M'surprised I didn't drop dead back then,” Daryl agreed, shaking his head in disapproval of his former self. “Can't believe s'already been a decade. Feels like jus' yesterday when we were back in yer mom's trailer.”
“Time flies. Now we're moving in to what is hopefully our last apartment for a while. You've got a great job down at that motorcycle repair shop and I've got a great teaching gig,” you replied, placing the video camera down next to you.
Daryl nodded. “Mhm,” he agreed, before giving you a playful smile. “Dun' know 'bout yer gig, though. Those five year olds are gremlins. They're gon' eat ya alive when ya start on Monday. Ya dun' stand a chance.”
You faked an offended gasp and shoved him lightly, eliciting a laugh from him. “I'll have you know, Mr Dixon, that I'm more than capable of handling a couple of five year olds. I've been doing it for two years.”
Daryl smiled and pulled you closer into his side, placing a kiss on the top of your head. “Yeah, I know. S'those high schoolers yer plannin' on teachin' one day tha's gon' eat ya up. Teenagers are the real ones ya should look out for.”
“Luckily that won't be for a while. I'm quite content on just teaching the little ones for now,” you responded, nuzzling your face into his chest. “And teenagers aren't that bad. Most of them are just misunderstood. Some of them are in situations a lot like—”
Despite cutting yourself off, Daryl knew exactly what you meant. If it were any other person, Daryl would've gotten pissed, but it wasn't just any other person. It was you, the love of his life, the person who's stuck with him despite everything, because of everything. He wouldn't fault you for one slip up. God only knows he'd said so much worse a couple of years ago, but you forgave him.
You were amazing to him like that.
“Situations a lot like wha' I went through,” Daryl finished for you, letting out a deep sigh.
“Sorry,” you hurriedly apologised, pulling back slightly to look into your boyfriend's eyes. “I didn't mean to bring it up. I—”
A tender kiss to your lips shut you up instantly. When Daryl pulled back, he gave you a reassuring smile. The last thing he wanted was for you to feel like he'd get mad at you for one minor slip of the tongue.
“S'alrigh',” he reassured you. “M'not mad. And yer righ'. There's way too many kids tha' go through wha' I went through. Tha's why any highschool would be lucky to have ya. Ya could help a lot of kids in situations like tha'. No, ya will help a lot of kids in situations like tha'. Jus' like ya helped me.”
You smiled and gently cupped his cheek, bringing him into a sweet kiss. “I love you,” you whispered when you pulled away, resting your forehead against his.
“I love ya too. More than ya'll ever know,” he responded, before pulling away and reaching for something in his pocket. “But maybe this will give ya a glimmer of how much I love ya.”
You gasped in surprise, happy tears welling up in your eyes. A choked up laugh escaped you, ecstasy flooding through your body as your eyes flickered between the man you loved and the small, round object he held delicately between his fingers.
A ring.
“I know this ain't the most expensive ring out there, and it dun' have some big diamond in the middle tha's worth more than this apartment, but m'hopin' s'enough. If I could get a better one, I would, and I will someday. Someday when I finally get promoted and yer teachin' high schoolers, when we dun' have to worry 'bout rent and shit like tha'.”
You smiled through your tears, another small laugh escaping. “Daryl—”
“Nah, please let me finish 'fore I chicken out,” he cut you off. When you nodded, he continued. “Ya've always been there fer me. Ever since we were twelve and ya started joinin' me by tha' river. When I needed ya the most, ya were always there with a reassurin' smile and a willin' ear. Then ya became my girlfriend ten years ago, and despite everythin', ya've stuck with me. Despite my outbursts, my baggage, my brother...”
You laughed at that. “I really don't like your brother.”
Daryl chuckled and nodded. “I know, but ya stayed. Fer ten years now, ya've been by my side. Yer my best friend, my partner in crime, the love of my life, and there's no one I wanna spend the rest of my days with than the beautiful, kind, funny, smart woman right in front of me. Yer my ray of sunshine, the one who always manages to make me feel better.”
Daryl adjusted himself until he was on one knee in front of you. Your breath got caught in your throat, and you scrambled to sit on your knees, your eyes sparkling in wonder as the ring glinted in the light.
“Sunshine, would ya do me the honour of bein' my wife?”
Words completely eluded you at that moment. You quickly grabbed his face and brought him into a kiss, that particular kiss conveying more than words ever could. When you pulled away, you smiled softly at him.
“Yes, I'll marry you. You didn't even have to ask.”
Daryl let out a sigh of relief and pulled you into his arms, hugging you tightly. “God, tha' was nerve wrackin'.”
You laughed as you pulled away from the hug. “I bet. You know, for a man of few words, that speech was kind of incredible. It definitely beat the one I had planned for you.”
Daryl frowned in confusion. “Wha' speech fer me?”
Nervously, you reached into your own pocket and pulled out a silver band. Daryl's eyes widened in surprise as you showed him the ring you had.
“I was kinda getting fed up with waiting for you to pop the question, so I was gonna take matters into my own hands.”
Daryl let out a laugh of surprise and shook his head. “Wow,” he mused. “Gender roles be damned, huh?”
“Damn straight,” you agreed, before motioning to the ring in his hand. “You can slip the ring on my finger, Mr Dixon.”
Complying with your request, he slipped the ring onto your finger. Before you even had to ask, Daryl extended his left hand to you. You smiled and slipped his own ring onto his finger.
Looking at the ring, Daryl smiled fondly. “Ya continue to surprise me everyday, Mrs Dixon.”
“I'm not a Dixon yet,” you reminded him, allowing him to pull you into his arms for the millionth time that day. “But I could be one soon. Maybe tomorrow, even.”
“Ya suggestin' we elope?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at the idea—an idea that sounded absolutely perfect to him. “Yer mom would kill us if she found out.”
“Well,” you began, admiring the ring on your finger. “It's better to ask for forgiveness than permission. Besides, we don't need some elaborate wedding to show how much we love each other. All we need is each other, and someone willing to officiate. We can go to the courthouse tomorrow.”
“Tha' sounds absolutely perfect,” Daryl agreed, pressing a kiss to your head.
“By the way, if you buy me another ring in the future to replace this one, I will be pissed. This ring is perfect.”
“Whatever makes ya happy, Mrs Dixon. I love ya.”
“I love you too.”
©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.
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