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carmenized-onions · 2 days

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Loosen Your Grip. | R & D

logline; even when it seems counter-intuitive.

[!!!] series history; so many parts, so many words.

Spotify Playlist, if you like to listen while you read. I listen to it when I write :) Constantly gettin’ added to. 8 hour mark officially! Lets go!

portion; 15k knowing the next chapters, this trend isn't going to change. they have started to line up with the chapter number, to my chagrin.

possible allergies; i think this one is relatively harmless? Stress though. Everyone's stressed. Idk what to tell you man, it's the bear. oh but more things were yoinked from Season 3!! Think that's just gonna be ongoing tbh. also if this is bad don't tell me. tell me it's really good, actually. i've never doubted a chapter more than I do this one.

pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader it's so fem. it's so she/her'd it's so girl'd i'm so sorry

kofi; if you’ve enjoyed the series, perhaps you wanna tip!

i'm so sorry for the delays beloveds, can you say 'most high stress but high reward month and a half of my life'? i can!!!

The Monday morning after New York— The first morning waking up in your own bed in a day or two— Comes rudely. Well, not immediately. First you have to roll over and grab aimlessly at your nightstand, searching for your phone to turn off your alarm. Through blurred vision you slide it to snooze, and as you debate going back to bed, your eyes glaze over some texts you’ve received in your sleep, from numbers you never bothered to put in your contacts. It takes a minute to absorb the information and register it as real, but once you do—

“...Are you fucking kidding me?!”

—You’re definitely not gonna be heading back to bed anymore. You’re wide-eyed and wired— You can probably skip coffee this morning. Maybe every morning forever.

“Oh— I fucking hate this fucking city, I fucking hate Chicago— Fuck this!”

In lieu of coming to terms with your world shattering news, perhaps this is an important moment to express gratitude, for the things that have gone well in the past few days.

The rest of the weekend in New York was as lovely as a last-minute trip in a cramped car full of kitchen equipment and four neurotics can be.

Gratitude. Highlight reel?

There’s a bag M and Ms monogrammed with Syd’s, Richie’s, Carmy’s, and your faces in your pantry now. Eva shouldn’t be the only one allowed to have fun. Though snacking on all your cute little faces does make you feel like a slight monster.

Managed to get a good gift for Richie. Thank you Tiffanys. It was certainly an interesting moment when everyone tried to come up with lame excuses as to why they had to split up from the group to definitely totally not go get Christmas presents.

Carmen’s knife guy wasn’t able to do engravings on such short notice, and you’re not the type to settle for less, especially not with Syd, so that’ll be a next year gift, it seems. You came up with a serviceable back-up while strolling through the MET— Which was a mostly fun field trip, it was very inspiring. You all could've done without Richie's pretentious prattling about postmodern absurdist dadaism. Mostly because you're pretty sure half of it was wrong; but still a good trip, all told.

Still lost on what to get Carmen… You’ve got a week, it’s fine. You’ve done more with less before. How do you subtly ask a guy, ‘hey, what the hell else do you like besides your job?’ You’ll figure it out. Figure it out like you figure out everything else, like you always do. Hopefully.

It's Monday. You've got a week. It's fine. Stop looking at your phone. This is such bad timing. This is awful fucking timing. You’ll figure it out. Stop looking at your phone, stop looking at the texts. Do the Connections, send it to Carmy, he already sent his, be normal… Just such bad timing—

At the very least if you can't bear to look away from the life ruining texts, just shut your phone off. You’ve got to stop ruminating or you’ll rot in bed forever. And you really have to get out on time, today.

“God wants me to kill myself—” Gratitude. Express gratitude.

The drive back went ‘well’. Everyone had their licenses so the squad took shifts either driving or sitting on the uncomfortable console. Or, in your case specifically, sitting half on Carmen’s lap in shotgun on occasion despite the many complaints from Syd and Richie. You had a good excuse! Neither of you slept for the entire trip just to work on the cocktail and coffee menu. It was practically a sacrifice! It was just easier to sit up front together, okay!? You had to be close, you were scribbling ratios and drawings of glasses into a stolen notepad from the Holiday Inn with pencil crayons bought from FAO Schwarz—

Oh, hey, put that on the gratitude scoreboard, that was another thing that went well. Pretty cool to go to the oldest toy store in America. Might not have gotten the chef in your life anything yet, but the kids in your life are covered— You’re winning best Aunt for sure.

Oh, huge highlight— Didn’t say love you, like some idiot. Got away with that by the skin of your teeth, honestly. Hard to stare up at the Rockefeller Christmas Tree next to the guy and not blurt out something fucking stupid. Thank God for Syd, who stomped on your foot when you seemed a little too doe eyed.

With great pain and bemoaning, you finish expressing gratitude, which hasn’t helped much. You slam your phone screen down on your nightstand and roll out of bed.

Today’s Monday. Today’s your first day at The Bear. Today that is the priority and there is nothing else to worry about.

You signed your contract last night. Talked to Syd for hours about it, planning next steps and goals and classes and budgets and a million other things. You’re both a little easily excitable, when it comes to lists and plans. Watching you sign yours gave her the ‘confidence’ to sign hers, if you can call it that. Not like you knew she needed the help, though.

“I love my life, I love my life, I love my life…” If you keep saying it while washing your face in the bathroom, it’ll become true, right? …Where’s Sara’s card again?

The Bear doesn’t run service on Mondays, so it’s a good day to do onboarding— Good day to do R and D. …What does one wear to R and D? Don’t need the serving uniform. Don’t need to dress up. Don’t need the jumpsuit… This is the first time you don’t need a uniform and that is bizarre.

You’ll wear your dad’s flannel, at least. Feels illegal to not wear the patch worked flannel. But besides that, you’re just a normal… restaurateur… part of the team…

Your hand hovers over where your necklace sits, in the small jewellery box on your vanity. “Mikey, if you want me to keep wearing it, make my ceiling cave in or some shit.”

You give it ten seconds and nothing falls. With a curt nod to no one, you pick up your book bag filled with loose tools and the menu filled notepad. Leave your bedroom, put your shoes on, grab your keys out of your clay dish tray on the way out.

It’s snowing.

That’s a lot of stuff falling, so to speak.

That’s basically a sign. That’s basically what you asked for.

You head back in, grab the necklace, hook it over your neck, and tuck it under your shirt. Baby steps. You head back out.

…And then soon after, head back in— Forgetting one of the most important things you need today. “The fucking glass, goddamn it!”

There’s a chance that today might be a little bit of an off day for you. No one’s gonna notice that, though.

“Mikey, why didn’t you tell me? You want me to look stupid on my start day, don't you? Fucker.”

You’re good. You’re you. You figure shit out. You’re compartmentalising perfectly and no one’s gonna be able to tell that you��re internally scrambling to figure out where you're gonna live once your lease gets terminated.

“ ‘Sup with you?” Okay, so Tina did immediately notice upon opening the back door for you. She tries to help you with the huge sheet of plexiglass you’re carrying, but you wave her off, stumbling further inside The Bear. Thankfully it’s a slow start to the morning, so the walk way is clear for your fumbled steps.

“I got it, T, just spot me—”

“Woahwoahwoah—” But alas, immediately Carmen is rushing over, making a big deal over nothing, “Fuck are you doin?” And grabs the thick sheet of glass from you. “Wait by your car next time, why do I gotta keep tellin’ you?”

“I am very capable—” You grunt, but you’re relieved when he takes the weight off you. You nod to the table in front of expo. “Put it on the island.”

“What’s it for?” Carmy asks but he follows direction without hesitation.

“Syd’s idea.” You walk with him, sidling up to Syd who’s already stationed up on the island with what looks like way too much paperwork for Chefs. You bump her shoulder as a greeting, she bumps you back. She lifts up the stack of papers and you pick up her deli container of Coke and ice, letting Carmen slide the glass onto the table.

“Unless it’s bad—” You correct, putting the cup down and digging through the tool bag on your shoulder for the right parts. “If you hate it, then it’s my idea.”

Syd snorts next to you, putting the papers back down on top of the glass. “Nice save.”

“What’s your idea, Chef?” Carmen taps his fingers against the glass, bemused.

You finally fish out two lock hinges from your bag, gesturing to them with a little flair like you’re Vanna White as Sydney explains. “For R and D. Thought since we’re like— Constantly changing shit and needing to review, it’d be like, useful to have a whiteboard— But those are huge and inconvenient for a restaurant— Duh— So—”

“Glass!” You come in with the assist as she rambles on. “On hinges— These one’s lock so you can have the glass sort of tilted up like an easel, or on the station— And then when you start service you can just flip it down off the counter for the night. Easy!”

“And—And—” Like a TV ad, Syd points out, “We can put paper under it and still be able to see— So it’ll make editing clearer— I-I think.”

Carmen always takes a nerve-wracking amount of time to think through other’s ideas, but once he nods, you both breathe easy. “Smart idea. Thank you, Chefs.”

You just smile, and this seems to bother Carm. Or at the very least, something is bothering him, as he frowns. “You got a second?”

Your brows furrow, for a moment, worried. You nod, putting your tools down. Glass can wait. “Always.”

Carmen comes around the counter, before he pulls you aside, Syd whispers over your shoulder, “Trouble in paradise.” Making you snort. When has it ever been paradise?

The two of you lean across from each other in the doorway of Carmen’s office, not quite in, not quite out. He looks worried, and his worrying is making you worry. He’s first to say something, concerned hand on your shoulder.

“Are you good?”

Fuck, he caught you too? “Hmm? Yeah, I’m good, do I not—”

You’re halfway through your response when he interrupts, he seems even more panicked by your words. His hand abandons your shoulder. “Right— Stupid, stupid fucking question— I just— Sorry—”

“Woah—” You grip both his shoulders, rubbing down his sleeves lightly. “Are you good, Carmy? You’re right, sweets. You caught me. I’m a lil’ off today. What gave me away?”

“Right, yes— You’re nice.” He’s saying it more to himself than you, like he needs to remind himself. Even so, it still hitches your heartbeat. “I— I’m good, I was just—You didn’t text me back this morning.”

“Oh.” You say it so breathlessly, with relief. It’s cute that that’s what’s got him freaking. “Sorry, yeah, I’ve been trying to not look at my phone, I just got some…” You shake your hand in the air for effect. “Bleh news. Put a wrench in some things for me, that’s all.”

“Yeah? What’s up?”

“Ah—” You shake your head, waving it off, “Too much to get into. Later, though?”

“Yeah, yeah. Whenever you want.” He nods. “Ah, I wanna get into uhm—” Carmen snaps his fingers a few times, finding the words. “Get into drinks, today. I made all the concentrates and syrups ahead of time—But Uncles gonna come in first with The Computer to go over some numbers shit— Should be here in thirty?”

You nod, squinting. “Is it like… A special computer or something?”

“Computer is a guy.” Carmen says, while Syd yells the same in tandem with him, “Why wouldn’t he be!?” Walking past you both as she carries produce out of the walk-in.

“Why wouldn’t he be?” You grin, reiterating. Your smile soon sobers though, as you finally notice a giant silver blob of machinery behind Carmen. “Baby, what the fuck is that?”

You’re already walking past him, quickly winding up all over again. It’s a gorgeous espresso machine— “It’s an Ascaso.” Explains Carmen. “It’s the best.” And it’s sitting exactly where your beautiful beat up mistake of a heavily-stained coffee machine used to be.

“Baby, baby, baby—” you’re looking above and below the station for your rusted companion, hushed and panicked. “Don’t tell me you threw away the old one—”

“You want the old one?”

Richie’s timing is perfect, as he walks in from front of house, and even from just hearing the last sentence, “Fuckin’ told you, Carm.” He knows the context. He keeps walking— On a mission, seemingly.

“I’m grateful— I- I am.” You kneel down and shove some mixing bowls aside to see if it was tucked in the back of some shelf— It’s not here. She’s not here. “New is good— New is nice— I’ll learn how to use the new one— I will— But— I— I need the old one— You didn’t throw it away, did you?”

When he stays silent, you turn and look up to Carmen from where you’re crouched on the ground, pleading. “Tell me you didn’t.”

“I— I—” The Chef is nearly sweating from this line of questioning alone. “It— It barely worked—”

“I know it didn’t! That’s the point!”

He blinks. You just seem to be saying all his trigger phrases, today, huh? “That’s the point?”

“I knew how she worked.” You push yourself back up onto your feet. “It’s got an espresso function that doesn’t work, if you tamp the basket the basket literally breaks off so you have to hold it and burn your hand a little— You have to hold the hot water button at the same time as the grind button for some reason or it won’t dispense— It’s literally a fucking nightmare— I covered it in like ten sticky notes of instructions at one point and they became pointless because no one but me was willing to use it. And— And I’ve got it memorized.”

“...And you want that?”

“No one’s gonna know how to take care of her, she’s my baby!” You gesture, albeit a bit too dramatically, speaking with your hands. “If you throw her away or donate her, no one’s gonna take the time to figure it out— They’re just gonna think she’s broken but she’s not, she works! She just needs the right hand!”

A dull silence falls between you, as Carmen purses his lips, squinting. There’s an ever slight chance your ‘I’m totally fine’ facade is cracking. “...Are you sure you don’t want to talk about your thing right—”

“I’m good!” “...Okay.” “Did you get rid of her?”

“Relax, Handy!” Carmen does not say this.

You grimace, looking behind Carmen to see Chi-Chi yelling from around the bend, in The Beef’s corner territory. Looking over him with the blue apron calling you your least favourite nickname by far— Well, second least favourite, only to— “She’s over here, Jack-Off. More our speed than rich boy’s ack - queso bullshit…” It’s nostalgic. Bad nostalgic but nostalgic.

He slaps the top of the machine, you and Carmen both wince as a random spigot falls off it. Chi-Chi clicks his tongue, staring at it in silence. “...Refresher would be good, though.”

You’re already walking back to your damaged darling, patting Carmen on the shoulder as a form of goodbye, he pats your hand back. You don’t get to see him smile, as he watches you get to work. “Don’t fuckin’ call me Jack-Off and don’t touch her, I’ll show you, I’ll break your hand Cheech, I swear—”

The man in question shrugs, a devilish and terrible smirk on his stupid face. “Ey, love a woman in charge. Show me the ways.”

Even on your most off days, working with The Beef will always be second nature for you. Even when the space is significantly more cramped than it used to be.

You rewrite directions on how to use the coffee machine while showing them to Ebra and Chi-Chi. Ebra tends not to learn new tricks, so he stops listening by the time you get to syrups. That’s fine. No one ordered syrups in their coffee at The Beef back in the day all that often either.

Mikey really shouldn’t have invested in all those syrups back then. He really only did it for you and the staff. To be fair, when he did convince regulars to try your coffee they always changed their tune. The people don’t know what they like yet. They will like this. You were his proof that that idea was true.

“You gotta toss these, Boss. Slows you down.” You overhear Cheech saying behind you. You turn to see his arm on Ebra’s shoulder, holding the small blue baskets for sandwiches in his other hand. “Just the wrapping is fine. These people are gonna throw this shit out anyways, waste of plastic.”

Cheech turns his head to you, “Right, Handy?”

“...Don’t call me Handy.” Don’t freak out about throwing the old stuff away. Don’t freak out about throwing his old stuff away. You shrug, looking at Ebra over your shoulder. “Maybe just offer them, if they ask for one?”

“Y’know what the people are asking for, babe?” Cheech sucks his teeth, pulling Ebra closer, who looks nonplussed. “They’re asking where the nearest brick is to throw through our window. This rich people shit is getting on their nerves.”

You sigh, eyes flitting to Ebra for confirmation. “Yeah?”

He shrugs, nodding. “Ninety-eight percent, Jack-Off.” Cheech and the gang have been a terrible influence. How are you going to undo this?

“C’mon, E…” You scoff, but nod as you turn around, arms crossed. Gesturing with the frother as you do. “Well, I’ll make note of that. Now back to the fuckin’ hand frother, Cheech?”

“I know how to crank it, Handy—” “I swear to fucking God—”

“Ey!” Tina comes up to your corner, smacking the back of Chi-Chi’s head with a hand towel when she does. “Don’t talk to the baby like that, clean your mouth.”

He puts one hand on the back of his head, hissing, and another up in front of him, in defense. “Ey, T, it’s all love, aright? Playing!”

“Yeah well, you’re not gonna wanna play wit’ this one. ‘Specially not now—” She nudges you, smiling that coy ‘I’m about to blow up your spot’ smile.

You grimace, attempting to interrupt her. “T, don’t—” “That she’s Jeff’s.” “—Goddamnit.”

“Oh! Oh shit!” Cheech laughs, delightfully shocked. “You finally closed on Charmin’? Congrats—” It’s a blessing and a curse that Carmen, the guy you only ever saw in photos and heard in stories that you had a very minor and not vocal crush on, is now your… boyfriend? Undetermined.

You wave a hand in his face, “Shut the fuck up—”

“So where should I send flowers?”

You hate this family. “For the record, I have not closed shit.”

“What’s closing?” Tina takes a half step back, surveying your face, it doesn’t reveal anything. “What’s that? Gramps?” She turns her question on Ebra, who shrugs, equally as old and unknowing.

“Well Jack-Off’s a little Mother Mary for my taste—”

You scoff, “So not true, for the record—” but Chi-Chi continues his tirade. “So I suspect she just means they haven't had the ‘are we datey-wating carmy baby?’ talk.”

You all but growl, crossing your arms as you wait for the second tutorial coffee to finish dispensing from the beloved whirring machine behind you. You can get the fuck out of here as soon as it’s done, and you’re praying that’s soon, because this interrogation is about to turn terrible. “We are currently unlabelled, if that’s what you’re trying to say.”

Tina kisses her teeth, poking at your shoulder. “Richie told me you spent the whole wedding together and you come back with no label?”

You sigh, composure falling apart. You are not ready for a mother’s disappointment. “We talked out a lot of important stuff—” “Mija, that is important stuff!”

“I just— We’ll talk eventually—”

Chi-Chi conveniently interrupts you when it looks like Tina’s about to go off into a full rant on the downfall of romance in modern relationships. “So you’re still on the market, Handy?”

“For you?” You smile, then drop it. Pushing your hand against his forehead. “Never. Now froth the fucking milk.”

He mumbles an endless series of expletives, but gets to work. You give him a quick tutorial on the hand frother— You fought hard for the old machine, but you are overjoyed to see an automated steamer and frother on that Ascaso. That part is gonna be a dream. You can make so many new drinks for Carm— The menu.

When you finish, you take the latte from Cheech to hand to Tina; and when you do, you catch her looking… off. She’s staring at the piled up diner baskets, next to the unused napkin dispensers.

You put your hand on her shoulder, massaging it lightly. “You good, T?”

Your hand shocks her back into reality, “Yeah, yeah, I’m good, baby.” It takes her a second to remember where she is. She takes the latte, nodding. “I’m good. You good?”

“I’ve got my complaints.” You shrug. “But nothing I won’t survive.” Probably.

Tina takes a sip of her coffee, continuing to nod. She wants to dig deeper into your thing, you want to dig deeper into hers, but the painful groaning from the front of the kitchen, “And when did I fuckin’ greenlight this?” interrupts both your trains of thought. Uncle Jimmy tends to have that effect.

With a knowing nod, you walk together to the front, leaving Ebra and Cheech to continue experimenting with the coffee machine before they open their side of the restaurant.

You watch from the sidelines as Carmen defends his choices, “The old one was shit, she was burning her hands on it. She’ll need the three groups to keep up.” and you’re able to quickly glean they’re talking about the new espresso machine.

“Okay, I hear that,” Jimmy nods, “but why the fuck did it need to be ten grand?”

“Ten?!” You can’t help but shout, you slap your hand over your mouth. Budget is none of your business. But fucking ten? You part your fingers to mumble through your hand, “Sorry, continue.”

Carmen cares too much about your drink menu. Berzattos tend to invest too much into your special interests. Though this time, instead of syrups, and in addition to a 10k coffee machine, you see on the stainless steel table your shared sketches laid out alongside all the ingredients needed– Including the concentrates, whips, and other compounds Carmen made ahead of time for you. He’s so sweet. God, you love him. God, that’s disgusting. They have all, of course, been haphazardly shoved aside though, to make room for The Computer’s— Computer. Carmy’s nonplussed by that fact, it seems.

Jimmy gestures to you, deadpanning to Carm. “See, Chip understands the power of the dollar.”

“I’m not involved.” You add, waving your hand, it’s a terrible moment for your favouritism to shine through. Though you do enter the radius of this trainwreck of a quarterly review, kneeling down by the kitchen island to finish what you started with the plexiglass and hinges. “Ignore me, continue.”

The men stand on either side of you, as you bolt down the hinges. Carmen brushes off the dollar comment with a simple, “It’s the best.”

Why do you need the best? You think; Jimmy concurs with your brain, speaking for both of you. “Why do you need the best?”

The question seems to make no sense to Carmen. He freezes, blue-screening. “Cause—”

You duck your head under the counter at just the right moment— Or just the wrong moment? Because you don’t get to see Carmen looking down at you, then back up at his uncle. “Because.”

You don’t see Uncle Jimmy practically roll not just his eyes but his entire body back into himself, witnessing the puppy love that is going to ruin his credit score. “Chip…”

When you slide yourself out from under the counter, Carmen puts his hand on the edge of the counter to make sure you don’t hit your head— Because you have an awful tendency to do so. You’re too focused on the way Uncle Jimmy says your name like you’re in trouble to notice though. “What’d I do?”

“You’re you.” Jimmy grimaces, shaking his head. It’s not your fault. Not completely. “F-Y-I– Your boss just cut your bar budget by ten grand.”

“Hm.” You squint, lips in a line. “And what do I do if the budget I was planning was just ten grand?”

“Well respect yourself more than that.” Cicero scoffs, arms crossed. “Take twenty, now you’re back to ten. You’re welcome.”

“Generosity knows no bounds.” You shake your head, laughing him off as you duck your head back under the counter. “Thank you, Unc.”

“Sorry, who exactly are we giving twenty thousand?”

“Oh fuck—” Despite Carmen’s best efforts, you still manage to bump your head on the roof of the counter, alarmed by the new voice— The Computer, you assume. “Fuckin—Ow— Sorry! Y’know what, hol’ on, let me just finish up here—”

“It’s the drink budget. Tony’s the new mixologist.” Natalie answers for you. “And sommelier.”

“Ah,” hums The Computer. “She’s the one we’re paying Quarter-Master for?”

“Nah, that’s me.” Gary strolls by, calling out to wherever his manager has gone, “Richie, you find that book yet?!”

“I’m taking them too!” You finally pop your head out from underneath the counter, finished bolting in the hinges. “Apparently I need actual W-S-E-T certification and a bunch of memorized google searches, youtube videos, and wine review blogs do not legally make you a sommelier.”

“I think it’s impressive you made it this far on basically nothing.” Syd taps the top of your head, she’s the one who made the call on schooling. She looks to her co-owner. “Classes are coming out of the advanced.”

“So is this.” You tap the plexiglass, nodding up to Carmen as well. “You’re workin’ with like… A thousand left for pre-paid work?”

“Hm.” Carmen nods, looking at The Computer, and you turn your head to him too. “Did you account for that?”

“Did I account for a thousand dollars?”

Carmen shakes his head like a white flag immediately, hearing the sarcastic tone, “Alright, you don’t—”

“A thousand dollars does not take you out of the hole, man.” He’s right, but you don’t love the tone. He tilts his head, reading something off his screen. “Payroll is a little high, for a somme.”

“I don’t disagree—” You try to say, because yeah, your contract does have a weirdly high salary.

But Jimmy, Nat, and Carm all speak over you. “It’s not.”

“That’s not pay for a somme, that’s a pay for Chip, you don’t need to enhance on that.” Jimmy deads the topic then and there. “You’ll see. Just trust me. You were sayin’ somethin about tiny plants?”

“Microgreens.” Says Syd.

“Yes. Do less of that.��

And you just watch, from the sidelines, as this crew flows into a bit of a repetitive we’re doing this, which gains the response, well stop. Do less, charge more, figure it out, duh, don’t duh– What’s that you’re hearing about a daily changing menu? Carmen seems to be the only one campaigning for it. At a point he just starts pacing, pointing at numbers on The Computer’s screen that he doesn’t understand but pretends he does.

You’ve got a million ideas, but it’s none of your business. It very literally isn’t your business, until Jimmy turns his head just so, grimacing at the non stop debate, to see you standing aside, arms crossed.

He sighs, beckoning you to the table, like it’s a witness stand. “What’s that fuckin’ face on your face, kid?” Oh, for the love of God, why are you so easy to read?

You pfft, shrugging. “I’m not makin’ a face—!” But you come forward nonetheless as he boldly speaks over you.

“You’re makin’ a face,” — “This is just what I look like,” — “Y’know how I know you’re makin’ a face?” — “Enlighten me.” — “Cause it’s the same fuckin’ face—”

He takes this moment to point at the face on your face. “That your dad makes.” A man that gambles as well as Cicero is a man that knows your dad’s tells. And a man that knows your dad’s tells is a man that knows your tells.

You bite down on your inner cheek, poorly pretending to be confused, shrugging again, “I dunno what you’re talking about.”

“Come off it.” “I’m not on anything, Unc—” “You’ve got a problem, say it.”

“I don’t have a problem!” You have a lot of problems, but they can’t know that. That makes you judgy and pushy— You don’t know enough about the business to have an opinion. “I’m just observing, that’s all.”

Uncle looks up, to Heaven, to Mikey, and sighs the world’s heaviest sigh. It sounds painful. When he finally tilts his head back down to you, it’s to say, “C-K.”

“Cicero.”

“Y’know why I’m able to pour mas queso into this fuckin’ kid?” He loosely gestures in the direction of Carmen, who in response seems to bite down a lot of venom. It’s bad to think he’s pretty when he’s annoyed, isn’t it?

You tilt your head, “Honestly, I always assumed some sort of mob association.”

Jimmy holds back his laughter, it comes out as a disgruntled cough. He shrugs. “It’s because when I saw your dad at the table, makin’” —He gestures to you— “That fuckin’ face, I knew to pull back.”

“You don’t need to pull back.” Your reply is a touch too panicked and instant for anyone’s liking, makes it a little less believable. But Cicero smirks, and you know that face as well as he knows yours. Check. He’s got you.

“Then speak on it.” And he pushes you forward, just slightly, like a slap of support on your back. You grimace, looking to Carm and Syd for permission to have opinions, and they both nod, like it’s obvious. With great hesitation, lips pressed together, you finally allow yourself to come off as judgy, opinionated, a fixer.

“I think the chargers are kinda stupid.”

A plate no one eats off of, that they still have to clean, that’s on top of another plate? Definitely super necessary. Definitely not some rich people NOMA bullshit.

You look to Syd, apologetic. She shrugs, open mouthed, head tilted, “I– I mean, I didn’t invent them.”

“It’s presentation.” Carmen nods, to himself. He doesn’t like to budge. “That first look at the table affects everything.”

“Yes.” You nod, directly across the counter from him. “I agree, I just think the plates are stupid.”

“You got somethin’ better?”

“Think so.” You hum, tilting your body back to yell to the back of the restaurant. “Ay, Cheech! Pass me a fuckin’ basket!”

It’s without hesitation that you hear, “Hut!” before even seeing the man. You see the blue basket being hurled towards you before you see the man. You catch it, albeit a bit clumsy, but you catch it.

You toss the basket on the table. Everyone stares. You defend yourself before anyone even criticizes it, “Easier to clean than plates, because you just need to rinse the plastic. Ties together a colour scheme, costs nothing, they’re gonna be tossed anyways.”

“It looks cheap.” Carmen tuts, but he really does seem to be trying to hear out the idea, despite his reservations.

“It looks purposeful.” You double down, leaning on the counter just so, “It carries a story, that we didn’t forget where we started.”

“Ooh.” Marcus, clocking in just in time, hums behind you. “Kind of a bar, Chef.”

“Thank you, Chef. Morning, Chef.” You fist bump him over your shoulder, not looking. Too focused on convincing the man before you, you let him think in silence for some time before asking. “Think on it?”

“No.” Carmen shakes his head, and you’re a little crestfallen, for a second. “It’s good. Let’s do the baskets, yeah—” He then remembers to ask for permission, he turns his head to Syd, “Yeah?”

“Yeah? Oh, uh. Yeah. Yeah. Baskets are good.” Syd nods to Nat. “Can you look into, uh—”

“Returning the expensive as fuck earthenware shit? Happily.” Nat is far too cheery upon receiving a paperwork rabbit hole of a mission. She brushes past you, excitedly whispering, “Please keep going.”

“Oh, uh—” Are you some sort of thought leader now? “Well, uhm, I think I heard you sayin’” —You snap your fingers at The Computer, “That R and D cost is a little high?”

“A lot high.” He corrects.

“Kid with crayons.” Jimmy tuts, “Need to pull back a little.”

Carmen’s screwing and unscrewing the cap of a mason jar— Marmalade, it’s for Syd’s drink. He made it this morning, it’s labelled down to the minute. Just let him work on his fucking drinks menu, please God. He’s been dying for this moment and it’s being thrown off by this bullshit.

He can’t keep biting his tongue, “Hey, uh, why don’t you just tell us to do everything a little bit less so we can skip this and get back to work, huh?”

You hear Uncle Jimmy inhale as preparation to verbally beat Carmen’s ass. You put one hand up in front of the old man’s face, the other hand grabs a dry-erase marker. “He didn’t mean it like that and he apologizes, Unc.”

“Does he now?”

“He does.” You drop your hand, focusing on lifting the glass panel, clicking the locks in place to keep it up. You nod to Carmen through the pane. “Right, Carmy?”

Poor Carmen nearly deflates, “...I’m tryna be the guy.”

“Not what the guy does, baby boy.” You hum, uncapping the marker with your teeth. You turn your head to Cicero. “Guy had a lapse, he forgot you were his boss and just thought of you as family, so he spoke to you like family, cause he loves you, Unc.”

Cicero nods, tilting his head just so at Carmen. “S’that right?”

Carm manages to shake his head and nod all at the same time, “S’a facet.”

“....Well, just don’t do it again.” A crisis is averted and an uncle is softened.

“I love to see a family come together.” You hum, nonchalant, writing on the glass, ‘R & D - Cost: Bad’

“Bring it from bad to good.” The Computer notes very helpfully. “You can cut—”

“Hol’ on.” You put your index finger up, effectively shushing him, “Just think about it first. We don’t have to go straight to cutting. Let’s look at our options.”

“Your options are fucked.”

“Just—” You tut, rubbing the bridge of your nose, man, you really are becoming your dad right now. Loosen your grip, Jack. “Widen the scope. We cut costs through returning those chargers— How else can we ‘return’ shit? Carmy?”

Thank God you’re the guy, because Carm can’t hack it. “Heard? Yes?” And frankly, he doesn’t want to.

“What’s the main cost on R and D?”

“Supplies. Food— Y’know, lot of trial and error.” He nods to a bus tub filled with failed attempts over this morning’s session. But you like that, right? “Trying new things, y’know?”

“...Carmen.” He doesn’t answer, because he can hear he’s in trouble. He is staring at you stare at the tub in what seems like a sort of contemplative, serene, searing anger. “Sweetheart, are those four wagyu filets in a fuckin’ bus tub?”

“Yes, it’s got a blood orange reduction, but– But Syd suggested mint—”

You don’t let him finish, “Is it poison?”

“It’s not.” “It’s edible?” “It is.” “Okay, so then, babydoll, why is it not being eaten?”

Syd winces from the sidelines, hissing under her breath, fist over her mouth. Carmen cannot help but notice. You’re perhaps… a dash upset.

“We can’t eat everything.” “Did you offer it to the crew?” “Yeah—” “You offered it to Nat, Unc, Cheech— All the servers? Or did you just offer it to the cooks?” “...Heard.” “Did you take a bite of all of these?” “Not all.”

You start writing on the glass again, explaining as you do, “Okay. So then uneaten food from R and D should be sold on one of those fuckin’ food waste apps— Too Good to Go, or somethin’. We advertise it to The Beef regulars, try to get the other side of our city to understand the finer things, prevent any brick through window incidents, how we feel ‘bout that?”

You remember small things far too well. You did make note of the rich people shit getting on The Beef customers' nerves. You make note of the people who live on your block, who cannot afford to eat here. You make note of the fact that Carmen resents subtracting with a passion now, so you find another way. He can still try new things, just needs to handle the results better.

“...You keep a binder or somethin?” Is all Carmen can think to ask.

“Steel trap memory.” You tap the cap of the marker to your head, “Good though?”

He nods, “Good.”

“Good.” You take a breath, dragging a hand down your face, practically coming out of a fugue state. Carmen knows your need to have something to do, just as much as him, so he slides the jar of fig marmalade to you from across the table. You take it happily, unscrewing the lid. You’ve also been dying to get to this menu.

But Richie comes up from behind, scratch and sniff wine book in hand— Didn’t Mikey get you that? It was meant to be a gag gift but it’s actually quite useful. “Chip, can you also tell Chef Carmen the daily menu fuckin’ sucks?”

“Re-lax.” You sigh, pulling over all the ingredients and tools you need for Syd’s drink. “Syd told me ‘bout this though, daily pre fixe, or whatever it’s called?”

“It’s—” Carmen crosses his arms over himself, immediately defensive but trying his best not to be. “It’s an idea I’m floating, for now— It’s what the best restaurants do, and— And even if we don’t have full intent on getting a star, right now, it’s still important.”

“I just think…” You hum, trying to figure out the most delicate way to say it. “It doesn’t exactly give you the most room to collaborate or create—”

“The whole point of it is to collaborate and create—”

“Oh yes,” —As if waiting in the wings for this, Richie pops out behind you again, “What wasssit? ‘Vibrant Collaboration’ and ‘Constantly Evolve Through Eating My Own Head like a fucking ouroboros’.”

“Relax.” You hiss this time, putting a hand up in front of Richie. You can speak for yourself. “You don’t have time to be creative or collaborate when you’ve gotta make decisions in less than twelve hours.”

Carmen tries to defend, he gestures to the one good plate of wagyu with mint that came out of this morning, “But the—”

You nod and hum, knowingly. The sweet sound stops him. You already know the answer, but you ask anyway, as you scoop fig marmalade into your cocktail shaker. “Did you get to try the pop rocks thing yet?”

“Well, no, it’s not viable to perfect that in such—”

“A short amount of time, angel?”

“Oooh…” Richie mimics Syd’s movements, air whistling between his teeth as he takes a sharp breath. He gestures, standing behind you, staring at Carmen as he slides his thumb across his neck. He mouths, ‘Mad mad.’

Carmen’s two closest friends are freaking him the fuck out and one of them wasn’t even doing it on purpose. How do they know that? How can they tell that? Are you gonna break up with him? Are you even dating? This work together thing was a terrible idea—

“You don’t have time to be thoughtful about things, if you do an entire menu every day, you’re gonna have to cut corners on what you’re willing to experiment with.” You reword, more productive, better for his brain. “Plus, prix fixe is a fuckin— In—In my opinion, is sort of a lacking idea, maybe, for a new restaurant.”

Carmen’s willing to give up the daily rotation, he’s not so willing to give up the pre fixe. “It’s what the best restaurants do.” Carmen loves the word best, huh?

“Have those restaurants—” You bite your tongue from what was going to be an immediate catty response.

You try again, measuring out orange liqueur and lemon juice as you do so. “You’re thinking like a Chef and you need to think like a customer— A- A guest, for a second.”

Carmen gives you the floor, mostly because he cannot compute the command. You continue, “Let’s do a little roleplay, alright? Let’s say we’re just average people, not workin’ at The Bear, and we’re goin’ on a date.”

“When?” “...When?” “When is the date?” “No, I’m— It’s— This is hypothetical.” “Yeah but in the hypothetical.”

You shrug, clicking tongs together as you grab large chunks of ice for your shaker. “I dunno, Friday nights? We have like a Friday night date night.”

“Oh, so you’re doing good.” Richie hums, proud of this hypothetical you, “Weekly date night is a cornerstone.”

“Moving on.” You elbow Rich behind you, shaker sloshing in hand, “I’m not a foodie, you are— In this hypothetical. You’re looking around at restaurants in the area for the date, you find The Bear— You find through their website with an improper hyperlink that the menu is,” —You list off on your free hand— “prix fixe, unavailable online, and changes daily so you can’t go off of reviews either. Also, it’s a new place, so you can’t really ask around for opinions.”

“Right.” Carmen nods, as does Syd. Uncle Jimmy’s got that stupid smirk he gets when he sees his kids fall in line. You pour the ouzo over the ice, focus on the drink, not Carm’s mopey expression.

“So, we probably wouldn’t go, right?”

Carmen keeps nodding, eyes downcast— Not upset, just can’t take feedback without keeping his head down. “Prob’ly not, yeah.”

You pound the shaker shut, shaking it lightly in one hand as you try as hard as you can to sweetly explain. “People are open to like, two surprises on an outing. New place, new food— But they will need a set menu and they will need to have it available beforehand— And they’ll need to be able to choose.”

He looks like a cat in the rain, so you add, “But. Maybe we can do a daily special? Or weekly, depending on burnout, but like, y’know, a semi-frequent one new thing. And maybe on like, Valentines or some holidays we do a fresh prix fixe. That’s how some of the best places do it.”

Carmen’s eyes upturn, smiling with them, at that last part. “You do keep a binder.”

“Syd does. I just pay attention.” You shake your head. “She mumbled about it all night when we got back.”

Adamu is immediately aghast, she should’ve realized ages ago, you were practically quoting her. “You said you couldn’t hear me!”

“No, I said you weren’t bothering me, and you weren’t.” You can’t hide your smile as you break the seal on the shaker. Syd sucks at sharing her ideas, but you’re happy to act as a good mouth for her good brain. “Hand me a lowball.”

With a grumble, Syd walks off in search of the lowball; while everyone does seem to agree this is best practice, Carmen does still seem a little sore about it.

“It’d probably also serve us well to do a seasonally rotating menu, right?” And so you throw him a bone. “Like Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall? Base it on what’s in season with local vendors?”

“What grows together goes together.” Tina says, nearly sing-songy. “Farmer’s market is rough though, Jeff.”

“Fuck a farmer’s market— With love, fuck a farmer’s market.” Back to writing on plexiglass you go. “We gotta do vendors, maybe f’ like, eggs and dairy we can do farmer’s market, but it’s just not feasible. Maybe for holiday pre fixe or daily specials? But full stock, it’s just not— It’s not it. And I say that while having farm fresh eggs and local honey in my pantry, alright?”

Carmen agrees, like a bobble-head this guy. He nods to Tina. “That cool with you, T?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s cool with me.” Tina is a millisecond off to pipe in, which is really not noticeable– To anyone but you, that is.

“Why’s— Why would T not be good with that?”

“She’s in charge of farmer’s market.”

“Hm.” You bite the end of the dry-erase marker. “T, would you be cool with rotating that, now and again?”

“Ooh?” She tilts her head, shrugging, “Yeah, yeah, kid. If you wanna take the reins.”

“Not me.” You return to scribbling on the glass board. You point at Carmen and Syd through the glass. “Them.”

“I’ve paid my sous chef dues.” Says Syd, returning to the table with your glass. You tut, shaking your head. You refocus your vision from your writing to beyond the plexiglass, at them.

“You need it for inspiration! You fuckers keep forgetting you like cooking, I need you to visit the farmer’s market once in a while to remind you.” You take the lowball glass and tong a few ice cubes in. “Non-negotiable. Heard?”

A soft, simultaneous, “Heard, Chef.” from your cats.

“Good.” You strain the mixed concoction out of the shaker, into the lowball glass. It’s a very pretty peachy pink. You tweezer a slice of dried fig and place it on top. You grab a toothpick, stick it down the glass, pull it out, and taste the toothpick. Balanced, solid flavour, should be good.

You slide the drink over to Syd. “I can’t drink everything obviously, so first dibs goes to whoever the drink is based on— I don’t care who drinks it, just let me know if it goes down smooth.”

You also in turn hand Syd the recipe card and sketch, and you’re quick to move on as she reviews and sips away.

Ouzo. Dry anise tasting spirit. It’s got a licorice aftertaste, but oddly sweeter for it. It’s strong. Resilient. It’s made from remnants of unfermented wine grapes and a mix of other distilled and unused spirits. Better than the sum of its parts. It goes well with figs. Muddle it together with fig marmalade— Sweet yet earthy, spring-like. Orange liqueur to marry the flavours, lemon juice to brighten. Shaken, pour over ice into a lowball, serve with a dried fig on top.

Syd manages to reserve her reaction to a slow but repetitive nod, like entering deep space. She only comes back to reality when Richie reaches for the drink, wanting to try. She’s quick to pull it away from him, coveting the glass.

“Ah… what else? Rapid fire.” You knock your head around, remembering what The Computer talked about, and in quick succession, you line up every problem and talk through them, possibly solve them— As best as a newbie can. At the very least, you open the floor to actual discussions as you make drinks all the while.

“Opening a full sixth day I think will shoot us in the long run, especially if we ever get a kitchen plague going. Maybe we just open for half the day on Mondays going forward, try out breakfast? Stop booing me, I’m right.”

Richie’s. Also served over ice in a lowball. It’s similar to a whiskey smash. Nixing the mint. Whiskey bourbon— A good one, but not too good that it’s a sin to mix. Something with a cinnamon spice, that's warm all the way down, but never burns. Water it down a bit by stirring peach juice over the whiskey with ice for a brief moment. Float blueberry syrup on top. Add a toothpick, spearing two blueberries and one peach halve, balance it over the glass, for stirring. So the drinker can mix the blueberry syrup in and have a cute colour changing experience.

“Wine pours, me and Gary got that. We can also just start charging by the bottle by default— Whatever works.”

Marcus’. Simple but effective. A rum and coke ice cream float. Made complex by the fact that the ice cream is on a rotating schedule, based on whatever Chef Brooks is feeling that night and what’s in stock. Right now? Pistachio. So tonight it’s actually rum and seltzer, and it will probably continue to be rum and seltzer, based on the way Marcus’ eyes light up by the opportunity to get weird. More often than not, you’re going to need that neutral base. Served in a milkshake glass, because what else?

“I don’t understand why I couldn’t just grow these microgreens myself in house. They’re just plants you murder early, are they not? Am I missing something?”

Tina’s. Varied take on a spiked agua fresca. Fresh blended mango agua fresca— With ginger, of course. A healthy kick is a necessity for a mom drink. Sweetened with simple syrup, spiked with white rum, dash of agave bitters, top with coconut water. Served in a tall glass, because why would you skimp on portions?

“Why are we shipping flowers from New York? No, fuck that, go to Violet’s Violets— I fixed her cooler once, she falls in love and gives a discount to literally anyone who’s nice to her. Just send Marcus with some dessert and you’ll be set for life.”

And of course, Carmen’s aperol spritz. You go with the cherry syrup rim for now because it’s important to try. You’re almost certain it’s too much though.

“Napkins…” You rub your icy cold hands— From shaking up so many goddamn drinks— Over your eyes. “Why are we renting?”

“Buying is insanely overpriced.” Answers Computer.

You nod, shrug, but nod, fingers tapping the glass, “Well, it’s like renting over owning right? It might be better to own because, y’know, you might suddenly get told by your napkin vendor, like, like years down the line, after basically paying for these napkins in full through rent, ‘hey, actually, we’re gonna jack up prices or just take those napkins back’ even though you’ve —again— Literally had them for years—”

“Chippy, are you good?” Richie tries to massage your shoulder, tries to break you out of the doom spiral, but admittedly, it was never his forte. Still isn’t.

“We—!” Your voice hangs and is grating in a way it usually isn’t, ignoring the question. “We can produce our own napkins if we buy linens by the yard and hem ‘em ourselves. We—” You snap your fingers a couple times at Carmen, praying he backs you up. “We can even get The Bear monogrammed on them.”

“That sounds nice…” It’s Carmen’s turn to ease you off the ledge of insanity, gently. “It also sounds expensive, were you gonna do that?”

“Fuck no.” You’re quick to shake your head. “I fucking suck at sewing, my own jumpsuit is covered in my blood— No, my—” Oh. “Hold on.”

Your hand immediately goes for your back pocket, quickly pulling your cell-phone out, and dial one of your first starred contacts. Richie, over your shoulder still, sipping his blueberry and bourbon cocktail, excitedly mumbles. “Oh, put it on speaker.”

You’re annoyed before he’s even answered, knowing the headache you’re about to get. “Trust me, the first thirty seconds minimum will not need—”

“Hey!” It’s impossible to convey how earth shatteringly loud and drawn out his voice is, immediately upon answering. There may be eight seconds of the sustained vowel? Maybe more. Almost everyone flinches, par for Syd, Carm, and Rich. Though for all different reasons.

A touch grating, in the same way your voice just was. Like father, like occasional daughter, you suppose. “Hey kiddo baby darling sweetheart angel princess—” Oh, he’s mad. The whole ‘slew of nicknames when you’re pissed off’ thing? Yeah, that didn’t start with you. “Did someone die? Because that’s the only reason my darling baby only daughter calls anymore!”

You sigh, immediately exhausted, putting your weight on one leg. “Y’know, once a month is honestly a lot of times a year for a fully grown woman to call their dad, on average. I absolutely call you more than my friends call their dads.”

Richie almost chokes and whispers over your shoulder, hesitant, internally preparing for a dreadful future. “Please tell me that’s not true.”

“Oh, and you should be so lucky that you have a dad to call! Cause I bet those friends are calling funeral homes, aren’t they?!”

“Dad—”

“I should have never taught you independence. Worst mistake of my life to teach you how to be your own person. Richard, never teach your kid how to use a screwdriver, it will be the last day you are a father.”

“Noted, Big C-K.” Richie goes for your dry erase to actually write it down, you pull it away from him. That’s gonna require a long talk down later.

Carmen mouths to you, across the table, he meant to ask earlier when Cicero said it but there wasn’t time. ‘C-K?’

You mouth back, gesturing to the logo on your very own flannel ‘Chicago’s Kindest.’ He’s not the best with acronyms.

“Oh— And thank you for bringing that up! And what’s this I hear about you cutting your hours with C-K? I hear this from Tony of all people ‘fore I hear it from you?”

“I got a long-term bartender gig that’s actually gonna keep my bills paid, alright? And I like it. Putting that mixology double trade major to good use. Cicero’s got stock in the place, actually.”

“How you doin’ C-K?” Cicero pipes in next to you, waiting for his moment.

“Ah… I’ve got my complaints. For one, my Jack keeps you more company than me!”

There’s a series of hums and haws, that weird uncle secret language of heavy exhales that manage to say more than any actual words they could say.

You let the heaving run its course for ten seconds before cutting it short with, “Anyways, I’m still gonna keep the business running, just only in the mornings. It’s not like I brought in that much business anyway, I’m not pulling a foundation.”

“Everytime a small business dies, a rich man laughs, Jack!”

“It’s not dying! It’s alive! It’s present and alive!” Don’t get flashbacks. “Anyways, speaking of small businesses, I need a favour—”

“Ooh, the truth comes out, princess calls cause she needs bail—”

“For the love of God, let me get through a sentence, Pops!” You grumble, continuing. “Remember that overpriced monogram machine you bought for no reason?”

“It was not for no reason, it was invaluable because it saved my mitts from hand embroidering all those logos— And and— you have to remember—” You mouth the words along with him, mimicking him, because you know exactly what he’s going to say, “that it all starts in your community— And now you have like eight beautiful outfits, cause of me… And also it’s fun.”

“Well… If it’s fun, would you consider making some linen napkins?”

And it flows like ping pong, because your dad is a repairman— Well, former, but still. He’s simple. He handles negotiations simple. So do you.

“For who?” “Restaurant. The Bear.” “Why?” “Cause they need linen napkins.” “How many?”

You look over your shoulder to Richie, he does the math in his head pretty quickly, “Bout seventy to a hundred covers a night.”

“Six hundred.” “Pay?” “We’ll pay supplies, and I’ll give you like—” You look to Syd, expectantly. She has no answer, so you put your advanced on the line. “A thousand?”

“A thousand!? Less than a dollar a napkin! Is this pre-housing crisis?!” “I work here, okay?! Discount me!” “My God, princess, are you in love with the owner or something?”

That world feels like it's choking, but that's probably just you. You blow hot air out of your mouth, looking anywhere but Carmen. Refusing to see him even in your periphery. Refusing to see his blue screened but ever so slightly expectant expression. Well? Are you? …Or something?

After a long moment, you find a way to avoid the question. “Ah–Uh, Syd co-owns the place.”

“Oh, Adamu?!”

Syd pipes in, leaning over the table. You hold the phone out for her. “H–Hey, Mr. CK.” She waves, despite the fact that it’s a phone call.

“Hey kiddo. Aw, what a sweetheart. Lead with her next time!”

“Alright!” You bring the phone back to your face— It’s remained off speakerphone this entire time, but he continues to yell loud enough for the table. “I didn’t realize you were best friends.”

“Of course we are. Y’know she brought me this uh– this salmon mushroom risotto the other night? Unbelievable.”

You squint at Adamu curiously, whispering. “You bring my dad food?”

She whispers in return, defensive. “He lives on my block, don’t be weird.”

“For her, I’ll do it for eight-hundred, okay kiddo? I know how tough it is to start up a business, can’t imagine trying to move on top of that.”

Your turn to blue screen. Moving? You’re immediately over the love thing. “...Pardon?”

“...I’ll do it for eight—”

“No– Yes, sorry, yes dad that’s great—” You arch the phone away from your face, focusing your attention on Syd. “Syd, you’re moving out?”

She sighs, “Trying to.”

“Pops.” You straighten up, not looking away from her. “I’ll call you back to sort details later, okay?”

“Sure. You also need to let me know holiday plans, are we going up to Oak Park or—”

Somewhat disrespectfully, you speak hurriedly, “Yeah, we’ll figure it out, love you, bye!” and hang up. Still locked on Syd, you ask. “When you tryna move?”

“Like, soon as possible.” She stretches out her shoulders. “My own dad is sort of… Encroaching on my space.”

“Right.” Your eyes flicker with too many ideas, and you’re trying to temper expectations. “You wanna live by yourself?”

“I mean, I don’t really know anyone on the same timeline as me, with the same ‘low budget’ as me.”

The Computer attempts to interrupt the interruption of his review, holding a finger up, “And why are we talking about—”

But you hold the palm of your hand up, continuing on, “I need to move out asap and have a ‘low budget’.”

That’s Carmen’s queue to chime in, he loves your place. “What happened?”

Also Richie’s, “What? Chip, your spot’s like a historical site, ya can’t move.” and this is generally agreed upon by a sea of dismayed voices.

“To make an extremely long story short, I don’t have a choice.” You wave your hand in the air, silencing murmurs. “My sweet old lady landlord— The only landlord I’ve ever respected, got bought out by a fuckin’ big business gentrification ass company— I’m not in a rent controlled zone so they’re gonna keep jacking the rent until I move out so they can tear it down and build a new spot— They also may or may not have found out that me and Loretta— My landlord— Haven’t exactly been keeping up to date on my lease.”

“Meaning?” Carmen knows the answer will be bad.

But it’s somehow worse. “Meaning I pay my rent on time in cash and she texts me once a year saying ‘do you want to keep living here?’ and I say ‘yes’, and we continue on.”

“Well, hold up—” Richie holds a hand up, like he’s a genius. “Squatter’s rights?”

“I thought about going that avenue, but—” You gesture to Syd. “If you’re already moving, and looking for a roommate?”

She looks up and around, thinking about it. You decide to join her in the brainstorm, scooching yourself just an inch to the right, writing on free space on the plexiglass screen, ‘pros and cons’

“Pro.” You murmur as you write. “I have a better credit score than you.”

Syd sputters, half sarcastic. “Well, that’s just uncalled for.”

“It’ll give you more options for places! Better ones! Ones with in-unit laundry!” You defend.

“In-unit laundry…” “Your eyes just lit up in such a sad way.” “Con. You are an ass.”

“That’s a pro. A real con would be that I have a lot of plants and if I ever go on vacation I’m gonna need you to take care of them, and I’m not gonna have a binder for you, because I water them based on vibes, and if I come back and they’re dying I’m gonna be pissed off and very passive aggressive about it.”

“Violently honest.” “Pro. Mostly direct. Aside from when I’m not.” “Con. I’m not direct.”

“Con. That’s fine but if I get the idea that you’re mad at me I’m gonna act really weird about it until you reassure me that everything is okay and you don’t want to throw me out the window.”

“Yeah. Con. Same.”

“Pro. I’ve lived by myself for a while, which is good to have when you’re moving out of your parents for the first time. Con. I’ve lived by myself for a while, and I’m very used to the lifestyle of big t-shirt no pants, I’m not giving that up.”

Now that one takes Syd a second to unpack, “But, but like, underwear though, right—?”

“No shit I wear underwear!”

“Okay! It’s important to note!”

“Don’t be weird.” Richie grumbles behind you, solidly directed at Carmen.

Who’s whole face really just scrunches up in confusion. “‘Don’t be weird’? You don’t be weird.”

“I’m not bein’ fuckin’ weird—” “Then why are you up in my shit—” “Up in your shit? Oh wow—” “Fully not what I was referencing—” “Don’t be weird, cousin!” “I literally— I did not even move— Not a single cell in my body—” “And— And you only know that ‘cause you had to lock it down, you dog—”

“I don’t remember having kids, why the fuck am I in a Kindergarden?” Uncle Jimmy interrupts.

“I’m just takin’ care of my boy, Unc.” Richie raises a hand in defense, feigning innocence. “Can’t be too careful.”

“You super can, and you super are.” You grimace, elbowing him again. “And also, not important–!”

“Actually, no, very important.” Syd of all people interrupts. “Non-negotiable, like you can’t— …Like you— …When I’m home it’s like— Don’t—” Ah.

You roll your eyes and save her before she just about breaks out in a feverish sweat. “Syd, I wasn’t planning on it. That’s like roommate rule one.”

“Syd.” Richie points to his own eyes, then to hers, ‘watching you’. “Don’t be weird.”

“What the fuck—”

“Everyone shut up, pros and cons—!” You shout, gaining the attention back. “Pros. I have a car, we work at the same place, I have all the furniture for a living room already, you'd never have to wait for a landlord to fix something ever again, and I could probably do a bunch of D-I-Y renter friendly projects, if you wanted.”

“...Oh my god, a French-door pantry.” “I think I could swing that.” “Pros. You’ll never have to cook again. I guess that’s my only pro, actually.”

“Con. I have been feeding the cat on my fire escape for like a year and if I’m moving I am going to have to adopt her, so we’re gonna have a cat. She’s cute, she has five toes on each paw. Something dactyl, it’s called.”

“What’s her name?” Squid’s not excited per se, but she’s not saying no.

You shrug. “I never named her, let’s name her together.”

“No, that’s too much pressure—” “No, you’ll do great—” “What do you mean I’ll do great—?” “Three–” “Oh like together together? No! What—?!” “Shut up, just do it, head empty, two—” “No! I’m just not gonna say any—” “Yes you will, Squid. One!”

And together, perfectly in sync, like it was planned all along, you both say on queue, “Calamari!”

“There we go.” You write ‘Calamari’ on the plexiglass. “That’s my girl— That’s our girl, actually. I’m still not sure if she’s a girl.”

You click your tongue against your teeth, knocking your head back and forth in thought as you look at the scribblings on the glass. “Non-negotiables?”

Syd leans forward on the table, chin propped up in her hands. “I need forty-five minutes of bathroom time at the beginning of the day.”

“...Do you have a fuckin’ lactose intolerance?” “It’s my me time!” “Alright! Fuckin’ fifty minutes of toilet time for Syd. Ah, I need east facing windows… and uhm…”

Syd stares at you, and alas, she can tell, “You have a big non-negotiable…”

“It’s not that big… It’s more a group thing than a roommate thing, really…” “What is it?” “I think… It would be fun… If we all started playing Dungeons and Drag—”

There’s an immediate, staggeringly loud array of groans, you’re still writing it down nonetheless, all the while defending, “I honestly think a little roleplay and math would fix you assholes! I really think it would! I’ll D-M, I’ll make it so easy— Please?”

Syd grimaces, but inevitably nods. “Y’know what, you’re never gonna get a concrete schedule for that down, and no one else is gonna agree so yes, sure from me.” Still a win.

“Okay.” You hum, capping the marker. “So… Aim to move first of February? You down?”

It takes some time, and you realize as Syd’s brain frozen, that you might be overstepping. “Sorry, that’s going too fast, you think on it—”

“...I’m down.” You make it very easy for her to say yes, by giving her the option to say no. “Yeah, let’s do it. February. I’m down.”

“I’m so happy for you two, but I’m still fuckin’ reeling— Chippy, it’s– it’s— So many memories—” Richie’s being overly dramatic on purpose, hand on your shoulder, really laying on the vocal fry in his voice; but it is true. “I mean, come on, first time I’d ever been stabbed was on your block.”

“Sorry, what?” Carmen was having fun watching his two favourite employees figure out they’d be perfect roommates. He loves to be a fly on walls around you more than he’d like to admit. Richie managed to ruin it with one line. “Stabbed on your block?”

“Yeah,” You suck the air between your teeth, trying to think of some sort of white lie, but slowly shake your head, “I— Yeah, there’s no real way for me to down play it, I was so fuckin’ scared.”

“You were tweaking!” Richie laughs, clapping his hand against your shoulder, to him it’s a charming story— You’d probably be laughing too, if Carmen didn’t seem so… unpleased, let’s say. “You fuckin’ thought I was gonna die!”

“You fucking were!” You slap Rich’s hand away. “It was so close to a cerebral artery— First and last time I’ll administer stitches in my fucking kitchen, hand to God—”

“What’s the story?” Oh, new face from Carmen you haven’t seen before, bewildered annoyance, you’d describe it as, it’s going in your bottom five. “You live in a bad neighbourhood?”

“It’s rustic—” You try, but Richie opts to speak on your behalf. “Oh, Chip lives in a terrible neighbourhood, Cousin. You’ve been there, haven’t you?”

“Yeah but it didn’t seem that bad— No— Hold on, go back, stabbed why?”

“So I heroically defended a boy from crooked—” Richie tries, but you opt to speak on his behalf. “Richie was helping me bring up groceries, we saw some highschoolers shaking a kid down, Richie tried to break it up, one of ‘em stabbed him with one of those shitty switchblade comb things.”

“You got stabbed by a kid?” Syd snorts, but immediately regrets it because she has perfectly set him up for—

“Yeah, and wouldn’t be the last time, would it?”

“Richie, c’mon…” You reach up, patting the guy’s shoulder. “It was an accident and she apologized—”

Richie just raises his eyebrows, interrupting with a simple, “Mm-mm.”

And so yours raise in tow, “...Fuck you mean ‘mm-mm’?” And your head turns to Syd, alarmed. “Syd, you apologized, right?”

Her mouth just sort of hangs, sputtering noises do come out of it, but nothing that strings a sentence together. You grow more agog, repeating again, astonished, nearly laughing from the shock, “Syd?! You apologized, right?! And told him it was an accident, right?”

Syd takes a beat, but she gets there. “I— I. Am. Sorry I stabbed you by accident, Richie.”

“Hm.” Richie crosses his arms, considering, mostly sarcastically. “Yeah, I’ll take it, I guess. Would’ve liked a card.”

“I am not getting you a card.” “I’m jus’ sayin’ I’d’ve liked one.”

Carmen’s still five steps behind, “Are you gonna be fine living there? In January?”

You choke back a laugh, because this is how men try to show they care, one must imagine. “I’ve been fine for the past handful of years living there, I think I’ll be fine for another month, sweetheart.”

“Crime is bad in January.”

“I was a first responder, and I know that’s not true.” You shake your head, shirking off laughter. “It’s actually in the summer that you see shit go down. Again, I will be fine. But you are free to visit.”

“Point of order.” The Computer finally pipes up again— Might’ve forgot he was here, if you’re honest. “What are we talking about anymore?”

“Point of order— I feel like numbers— Talking numbers is great but it’s all just like— Paper, y’know?” You unlatch the plexiglass, gently settling it back down on the table. “We should be talking more.”

Tina nearly whistles in agreement, nodding by your side. “Heavy that, Jeff.”

“That’s what I’m sayin’, like—” You snap your fingers to the rest of the crew, hand moving to and fro to point at everyone, “Did y’all know until right now that Syd was moving? …No, right? Let’s like— Fuckin’ remember to check in, like y’know, family, Chefs.”

And without calling her out, you can feel Tina’s demeanor next to you change, relaxed.

“Heard, Chef.” Is the agreement from the crew, however, The Computer nor Cicero seem convinced, so with a sigh, you put on your most authoritative voice.

“Y’know. Three Cs! Caring cuts costs!” A phrase no one has ever said, but it sounds legitimate when you put it like that. That gets them to acquiesce.

Thank God, Marcus helps you move the conversation along, “...What’s everyone doing for the holidays?” Alas for both of you, the silence is deafening. “...Or not.”

You volley back for him, “If no one has hard plans I was thinking of having a lil’ Holiday party? Nothing big. Sort of a ‘goodbye old apartment’ party? Come by after you hang out with your families or whatever?”

“Not gonna go up to Oak Park?” Rich leans one arm on your shoulder, nursing his whiskey cocktail in the other.

“Meh.” You shrug, attempting to push him off you, but he doubles down. “We’re not so intense about holidays since everyone’s aged. I’ll visit my nephew on New Years.”

“I’m doin’ Eve with Eva, but I’ll be free on the day. I’ll come by. We doin’ gifts?”

“I mean I got you something, so,” You tap the bottom of his glass as Rich takes another sip, making him flinch. “Catch the fuck up.”

Syd pipes in, sniffing. “Me and my dad only celebrate on Christmas Eve now, so I’ll come.”

“Incredible. Two down.” You gesture to Marcus and Tina across the table. “You guys? Tina I assume you’ve got a loving family and shit?”

Tina smiles and nods, rightfully proud. “I do have a loving family and shit, but maybe I’ll come by late with them too?”

And Marcus tacks on with her, “I’m gonna be with my mom most of the night, but I’ll come through for a couple hours.”

“Perfect, perfect. Invites open to any plus ones as long as you text me first!” You hum, writing names down on the glass board. It’s kind of a nightmare of different lists at this point. “Richie, can you make sure Fak and Sweeps get the invite?”

“Yessir.”

“And us!?” Shrieks Cheech in the back, who really shouldn’t be able to hear you, he should be in the zone, slinging sandwiches.

You yell back without turning to him. “Yes, fucker, you and E can come, if you want! No fuckin’ plus one for you though!”

“Oh come the fuck on, Jack-Off!”

“Oh, make me a fuckin’ sandwich, big man!”

“Oh, I’ll make you a fuckin’ sandwich!”

“Oh, my dick!” A response that makes no sense, consistently the perfect bookend. You sigh, and finally, your eyes flit to the most terrified two in the room. “Berzattos… Holiday plans?”

“I think we’re gonna do dinner on Christmas Eve, and then the morning together? Well, I am.” Sug hesitates, she’s looking between Uncle Jimmy and Carmen. “I was gonna ask what Carm’s plan is…”

“I’ll go. I’ll go.” Carmen has to stop himself from biting the skin off the tips of his fingers. “I’ll go. And I’ll come to the party, after.”

“I’ll probably just go home with Pete after. Baby’s first Christmas, y’know.” Natalie hums and nods awkwardly. There’s a question both of them want to ask. Neither of them are brave enough to ask it. And while you can sense there’s something dancing in the air, you’re not going to overstep on this front.

“Mazel. I can buy silly decor with reason now. …Now let’s talk about the important grievances.” You hum, happy to end that chapter.

You turn just slightly to gently slap Richie’s cheek as he stands next to you. “Rich, you need to line your beard up, this neckbeard shit is pissing me off—”

“What’s with the fuckin’ drive by?!” “It’s been on my mind forever— You can’t be wearin’ suits and then be rockin’ that unkempt shit, clean up—” “I’m clean! I’m fucking clean!” “Who said? Who fuckin’ said? Cause I sure didn’t!” “How’m I s’posed to be linin’ my shit up every mornin’—” “You do not grow a beard that fast—” “Oh fuck you, I’m not fuckin’ Carmen, I grow a fuckin’ beard.”

Carmen’s just surprised to hear his name out of any name come up. “What– Now that’s a fucking drive by, what the fuck?”

“If we’re voicing grievances, I’d like to voice my fuckin’ complaint with Captain Crash-Out over here—” “Who the fuck is sublimating now?” “You’re not usin’ that term correctly, cause you’re not integrated—” “I thought you two worked this out on the road trip!” “We did!”

You only half regret starting this feud with the beard comment— To be fair, you’re right. “This is it working?”

“This is, in fact, it working.” Syd confirms plainly, her disappointment more than apparent. Rubbing the tips of her fingers to her temples. The fight is out of her, at this point.

“Alright.” You slap your hands together. “Richie, what is your complaint?” Are you just union rep now? You might be a union rep now.

“Carmen is fucking killing me.” The cocktail swishes and nearly spills as Richie points at the Chef, emphatic. “He won’t change shit for guests!”

“No substitutions!” It’s almost cultish, the way Sydney and Carmen yell it out together.

Richie scoffs, head reeling back. “What happened to it bein’ about hospitality?”

“I mean…” You suck air through your teeth, squinting. “If we’re sayin’ no substitutions, it’s no substitutions— Unless it’s like an allergy or sensory thing— But even then, it shouldn’t be like a major component getting replaced.”

“See? See?” It’s almost maniacal, rabid, how delighted Carmen is that you’re on his side. “Fuckin’ thank you. This is why I lo—”

Before Carmen can finish his sentence, Richie flails about to suddenly throw the peach and blueberry skewer from his drink at Carmen— Not the pointed side, he doesn’t want to stab the guy. Just wants to save him from running his mouth. The peach slice hits Carm’s chest as Richie stutters out, “F-Fuck you, fuck you, fine. No substitutions— What the fuck am I supposed to say then?” speaking over whatever syllables fell out of Carmen’s mouth, muddling them.

You cock your brow, but Carmen seems to quickly let the childish toss go, more than eager to move on. So you do too. “...Say some bullshit like, like, The Bear encourages —uhm— explorative culinary experiences where you let your taste buds go beyond your limitations and comforts— So eat a fuckin’ mushroom, you’re not gonna die.”

“If they don’t like mushrooms—” “Then they shouldn’t order it!” “How hard is it to just fuckin’ switch it out!?” “So hard! So hard! I think! I could guess!”

“I could do it.”

“Could you?” You cross your arms, leaning your weight onto one leg, pivoting to Richie. “Okay, roleplay, you’re Carmen, I’m you—” Just as Richie opens his mouth, you hold your index finger to his lips. “I know you wanna be a bitch, I’m askin’ you to just skip that part for me.”

His shit eating grin is only a little endearing. “How am I supposed to be in character if I’m not allowed to be a bitch?”

You clench and unclench your hands in the air, but let it go, opting to move on to your little thought experiment. “Chef, patient—” Instincts never give out, huh? “Christ, patron doesn’t want mushrooms in their anolini, I need you to sub it.”

“Ah, well I’m happy to do that for you, Host Richie, I—” He’s going to go into some scathing spiel, and you love the guy, but you have to rub dirt in the wound for the lesson to stick.

You speak over him, voice stern, “Chef. In order to keep pace, I need you to make this call in fifteen seconds, what are you subbing it for?”

Richie’s head shakes back and forth as he scrambles to get his brain to work.“Fuckin— Fucking– Eggplant.”

“Eggplant?” You ask politely, tone unsure. Carmen asks it with you, tone ridiculing.

“It’s a sauce isn’t it?” You squint, turning your head to the actual Carmen. “It’s like a really thick mushroom sauce stuffed pasta?”

He tilts his head from side to side, but nods. In gist, yes. “It’s a ragout. Low and slow cooked stew—” Carmy’s ready to rave about it and teach you every facet of the dish, but perhaps that’s too romantic for a public setting. God, he’s weird about love. “We keep it going on our back burners all day— It takes an hour minimum to make from scratch, you can’t just sub it.”

“Yeah, well…” Richie stops himself short of getting snarky for no reason all over again, taking a second to think about it. “Well, I didn’t know that. You didn’t explain that shit to me.”

“I don’t have time to hold your fuckin’ hand—” Carmen stops short of getting catty when you give him a very soft and yet gutting disappointed look. He pinches the bridge of his nose, sniffing. “I can’t explain why I do everythin’ I do when I’m— When we’re in a middle of a rush, I just need you to trust when kitchen says we can’t do it. Trust that I thought it through.”

Richie has to control himself, has to make sure the corners of his mouth don’t upturn just slightly, has to make sure it’s not clear that he is overjoyed that there’s finally middle ground, can’t get his hopes up. He nods. “I just wanna make everyone happy, y’know?”

“I know. You’re—” Carmen’s nose scrunches up for a second, God, he’s never had to say that he think’s Richie’s good to his face. And he’s not gonna start now, “Eggplant would be a good sub, if we had time.”

Richie prods his tongue along the side of his cheek, thinking. “Maybe I could look into knowin’ restrictions faster and estimatin’ their orders, so you can have ‘em on deck?”

And Carmen does think that’d be a waste of time, but he’s learning. He hears it out. “Could give it a shot, yeah.”

“Same team.” Richie reaches across the counter, and Carmen actually takes his hand, a quick dap. Civil.

“Same team.” First time you’ve heard Carmen adopt your idiom; you can’t help but smile, though you’re trying to hide it. You’re too focused on arguably the two most important men in your life to notice the silent conversation Uncle Jimmy is having with The Computer, speaking solely through nods and exchanged glances.

Pay is for Chip. Cicero nods, and The Computer nods back. He gets it now. Pay is for Chip. Not just the mixologist, not just the sommelier, not just the repairman, not just the not-quite girlfriend, Chip. You’re Chip. You’re the cog, the piece. The grease between everyone.

You’re the guy. Always have been, always will be.

The silent conversation and the warm feeling in the room is cut short though, by The Computer. “Can she deal with the butter thing?”

“What the fuck is the butter thing?” You immediately jump onto the case, when Carmen looks down and away from you, you frown, leaning in. “What’s the butter thing?”

Jimmy snaps his fingers at The Computer, he hands him an invoice, which is then handed off to you. Old Major Farms, Orwellian Butter, salted and unsalted. $11,268. You just. Stare. The math comes all too easy to your head. Worth a week?

“It’s the best.” Carmen repeats as your eyes remain worryingly unblinking. “It’s—”

“Carm.” Syd all but hisses, shaking her head in tight swivels, waving her hand around her neck for him to cut it. “Making it worse.”

“Angel is like, the worst it can get.” Hums Richie. Recalling your barometer of anger. Recalling the times when Mikey would say ‘what’s the point of paying bills?’ And you’d have to pull him aside. “Can’t get much lower than that besides—”

“Light of my life.” You look up from the paper in your hand, and both Richie and Sydney wince. Your voice is terrifyingly delicate as you nod over to the room behind you. “Apple of my eye. Can I speak to you in your office, please?”

Carmy’d like to say no. “...Yeah.” But you already started walking before he even answered, so there’s not much of a choice here. You head in by yourself, and thankfully, the door closes behind you, so Carmen’s got a second before he gets devoured.

He walks around the counter, and as he nears the door, Richie grabs his arm. He whispers as he hands Carmen what’s left of his cocktail. “You need to lock the fuck in.”

“I know.” Carm returns, shooting down all that’s left of the lowball. Why’s Richie’s the sweet one? Why’d Carmen get the cough syrup drink? That’s not fair. Do you not think he’s sweet? “Thank you for the— Intercept.”

Richie nods, he’s been unwillingly playing quarterback for Carmen since going to Rockefeller and seeing that goddamn giant tree and Carmen couldn’t stop opening his big fucking mouth after seeing you under the star. “Just think with your brain, not your—”

“Don’t.” “Was gonna say heart.” “Sure.” “Don’t be weird.”

“I know it’s expensive.” Carmen gets it out before even fully closing the door behind him, “But it’s normal prices, for high-end restaurants. I know it’s different—” He stops short when he finally turns around from the closed door, to see you, holding your painting.

It’s facing you, you’re reviewing it in your hands where you sit in the office chair; the brown wrapping paper freshly ripped and on the floor. Carmen still doesn’t know what’s on the piece.

“Carm.” You twist the piece around in your hand, turning it to him. He can see the nine squares. The Beef to The Bear. Mikey. “This is not another restaurant.”

Carmen continues to stare, silently, though he takes a step closer, reaching a hand out to graze over the canvas. You keep going, clarifying. “We’re not just another high-end restaurant. We’re us. And so we should be doing things like us. We’re the best, we don’t need the stuff to be.”

He was with you until that last part. His pursed lips say as much.

“It’s—” You smack your lips together, haphazardly handing him the canvas, he’s very quick to grab it with both hands, not wanting it unstable for a second. “Hold on, let me show you somethin’ — I think I left one in here.”

You roll the office chair back a bit, sinking down in the seat to reach far behind a tall cabinet; you have to pad your hand around in the dark nook for quite some time before you pull out— A screwdriver. An oddly shaped one, at that.

“...Has that been here the whole time?”

You nod. “Like threeish years at least, I think I threw it back there while telling it’s origin story. It’s part of the first set I ever got.” You grip the flat wooden handle. “It’s the worst screwdriver on earth, like, by far.”

That gets a little chuckle out of Carmen. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You look up from it to him. “It’s a handmade set. Dad’s dad made it.” You awkwardly roll closer to him, he leans over, head next to your head as you both look down at it. “It’s got a flat wooden handle, made of poplar— So not only is it fucking impossible to get a good grip on, it’s also so fucking slippery. It’s part of a whole set, passed down from my grandpa to my dad to me.”

“Sounds fucked.”

“It is.” You laugh, and so does he. “It’s purposefully meant to piss you off.” You rub your thumb over the dent marks in the wood— All from the times you threw it at something— Including the very cabinet that it hid behind. “You ever wonder why I took over the handyman gig, bein’ the youngest and all?”

Carmy shrugs, glancing from the screwdriver to you. “Just assumed you were the best.”

That gets another laugh out of you, and Carmen’s overjoyed by the sound. “Yeah, I’m probably the best. But that’s only cause I kept up with it.”

You turn your head up to face Carmen again as you explain, “When our dad started bringing us to jobs as kids, he would make us exclusively use this set of screwdrivers— Sort of as a secret test. My brothers would get pissed off, as planned, and they’d quit and cry. And I dunno, I guess I’d cry and keep going? And I learned a couple tricks, eventually.”

“Tricks?”

“Like.” You pull back in the chair and run your hand across the office desk. The corners of it are screwed into the metal cabinet below it. “It’s really good if you’re screwing from the top down.” Using it as an example, you start to unscrew it. “It’s balanced. And it’s really all in the grip— Always loosen your grip with this one. Even if that seems counterintuitive.”

You get it to unscrew just fine with your loosened grip. “But if that doesn’t work, and you just can’t get it to work—” You lift the screwdriver in front of his face, showing off the sides of the handle. He smirks at the— “Just make your own grooves, it’ll be easier to hold.” Tiny teeth marks.

“Carm.” You tap the handle to his nose as he zones in too much on it. “I’m the best repairman because I can work with anything. You’re the best Chef because you can work with anything. You don’t need the best when you’re the best.”

He’s the best?

He’s the best.

“I truly think you could make just as good a plate with Becel as this fucking Animal Farm butter.”

Carmen’s the best. You think he’s the best.

He’s gotta think with his head and not with his heart and not with anything else, either. Lock the fuck in, Carmen.

“I dunno bout all that.” He shrugs, bashful and attempting to hide it, trying to shake the praise off his back.

“Well I know ‘bout that.” You shrug back, “I’m actually kind of a genius, when it comes to knowing who’s good and who’s not.”

“I don’t doubt that.” Carmy hums, and the sound is sweet without reservations. “...Painting is very good.” He nods to himself, on repeat, like a bobblehead. “Or I guess it’s less a painting and more a buncha photo transfers?”

“Yeah.” You set the screwdriver aside on the desk. “Most of them I took.”

“They’re good. It’s—” He pauses, tongue against his teeth. “It’s nice to see evidence he kept up, or somethin’.”

You nod, seeing Carmen’s brain struggle to keep pace in real time. “We took that one I think the day we talked to Uncle Jimmy about The Bear? Had to print out articles as proof we could make it work— Or, that you could make it work, rather.”

Carmen sniffs, crossing his arms, hands in tight fists— Probably too tight— where they hide. “Yeah, kinda fuckin’ up my end of the bargain, hm?” The light laugh that follows is hollow.

“Eh. You both did.” You smile, though it’s hesitant. “ But at least you’re still here fixing it.”

Still here. Still fixing it. That is in essence, the piece. Carmen gets lost staring at the squares, so you speak as he does. “I was trying to like. I dunno, replicate your brain.” He can see it. The messy yet coherent, controlled yet chaos. The love. The grief. The progress. The home. You see him. He can see that you see him.

“11k for butter,” Carm’s head doesn’t move but his eyes raise to you. “Is a week. More than a week.”

Ah. Carmen can see you too, see your thought process. The Ascaso, worth one of the worst weeks of Mikey’s life. The fucking butter. Worth more than a week of Mikey’s sobriety.

All you can do is nod solemnly. “It is, yeah.”

He nods back, tongue prodding his cheek. “That’s too much.”

“I’d agree.”

“I’ll switch to local.” You make it easy for him to fix his mistakes, by giving him the space to realize them.

“I think that’s the right call.” You nod, smiling. After a moment, you reach for Carmen to uncross his arms, and when he does, you take his fist and uncurl it— Your hand is a very soothing balm to the spots where he dug his nails into his own hand.

“Loosen your grip, Carmy.”

And so, he does. With a laugh and a look to high heaven, he loosens his grip. Really loosens his grip. Well— Not completely, he’s not going to say that, but he will say something that is just nearly as difficult but not quite. He'll bite down a little. He’ll make the grooves, for now, until his grip is good enough.

“Come to dinner with us?”

would you believe me if i said I had to rewrite a bit of this last scene because intially it went so rom-com and I was so disgusted when I reread it in the morning I had to stare at it in the subway ride to work like "what the fuck am I gonna do"

was this chapter good? God I hope so. I felt like with where we're going, it was kinda necessary to do Chip's onboard, set the stage for what work is like for her. I had to loosen my own grip with this one lmao. just allow myself to be a LITTLE messy. if it's bad, lie to me. tell me sweet little lies peach

DAD REVEAL THOUGH EH? MR CK!!! So much did happen this chapter. Chips on board! Squid Ink moving in together era commences! Christmas party!! Also. Would you believe me if I told you no shit syd was gonna move, she was planning it in S2, but I was planning this whole time for Ink to get evicted!! I want those fuckers to be roommates STAT!!!

anyways, i really hope i remembered to write down everyone that asked to be added to the taglist, i might've not. i'm very sorry if i didnt

oh also if you wanna be added!! send in your thoughts!! words for words baby, essay for essay cmonnn gimme ur character analysis!! (oh and also ask to be added, ofc)

@hoetel-manager , @fridavacado @sharkluver , @spectacular-skywalker , @silas-aeiou , @deadofnight0 , @sunbreathingstuff , @anytim3youwant @navs-bhat @whoknowswhoiamtoday @gills-lounge @blueaproncarmy @itsallacotar @catsrdabestsocks101 @popcornpoppin @renaissance-painting @lostinwonderland314 @v0ctin @ashtonweon @mrs-perfectly-fine @thefreakingbear @anytim3youwant

#carmen berzatto #the bear fanfiction #the bear x reader #the bear hulu #the bear fx #the bear #the bear x you #carmen x reader #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen x oc #carmy berzatto

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jasntodds · 2 days

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can i request a jason fic 🥺 i was reading through the prompt list and saw two ("here's a spare key, so you don't have to keep coming through the window" and "i didn't know you could cook this good") and i thought they'd make a cute setup for a friends to lovers moment 🥺 sorry for not being around! i've been struggling with reading on my phone for long periods of time the last few months 😭 -guiltywaves

@guiltywaves omg hey!! I love friends to lovers so much dkjf but no no it's totally okay!! No worries!! I totally understand!! It happens to me all the time lmao I'm so sorry this took so long!! I wanted it to be perfect and make sure it wasn't super long!! I hope you like it!!

Maybe I'll do a part 2

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Words: 3,045

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of injuries

masterlist | tag list | requests: open

Jason climbs through your window. A routine of sorts, really. After patrol, he comes by and always through your window. Sometimes he’s injured and lets you help him before you offer your couch to him. Sometimes he just stops by with a snack. But, he always comes in through the window.

Tonight is no different.

It’s after three when your window creaks open, Jason noting to himself to fix it for you. He crawls through your window, your apartment dark as it usually is when he comes by this late. He flips on the floor lamp to your living room before taking his helmet off and making his way to your kitchen to rest it on the table. He finds a note, your handwriting scribbled across the page containing Nightwing symbols at the corner.

Jason rolls his eyes but reads the note.

Leftovers in the fridge please eat

A smile tugs itself onto his lips before he pockets the note, folding it neatly beforehand. He’s quiet, reaching for the fridge where he finds the leftovers already in a bowl for him with a note that has his name on it, something that almost always makes him laugh. He's the only one you ever save food for.

This note has the Robin symbol.

He doesn’t think you even own anything with a Red Hood symbol and a very large part of him knows it’s because you do it to fuck with him.

It works every time.

He grabs the bowl, pulling the plastic wrap from it before he pops it in the microwave. He grabs a fork from the drawer and leans himself against the counter with hooded eyes, sleep tugging at his chest and bones. Patrol wasn't too bad tonight, that's not really it. He's standing in your kitchen and it's comfortable here. He's allowed to breathe with ease in your apartment and sometimes, that alone can make him crave sleep. The white noise of the microwave is only contributing to the heaviness of his eyes until it’s suddenly interrupted.

“Knew you’d be hungry.” Your voice tugs Jason from his almost sleep.

You look tired.

You sound tired.

“Thank you.” Jason’s cheeks turn a pretty shade of red as he rubs the back of his neck with his free hand. “Just gonna eat and head out.”

“You can stay.” You roll your shoulders.

“Nah.” He shakes his head. “‘M fine.” He gives you this toothy grin as some sort of proof he isn’t injured tonight though you’ve already pieced that together with him heating up his food.

“It’s late. You’re just gonna be more tired after you eat, Jay. It’s not like you don’t stay half the time anyway.” You roll your eyes at him before you disappear down the hall.

The microwave dings and it sends Jason quickly reaching for the handle to get it to stop. The noise is so jarring in your quiet apartment it sounds like his ears might bleed. The bowl is hot on his fingertips as he grabs it, quickly stirring before he puts it back in for a bit more time.

“I got you something.” You state as you reemerge from the hallway.

Jason’s brow quirks up. “What?” He let out a half-scoff half-chuckle.

The microwave barely gets a ding off before Jason grabs it and removes his bowl. He places it on the counter before you approach him. Jason faces you, eyeing you carefully before he sticks his fork into the pile of pasta.

“Here’s a spare key.” You stick out your hand and open your palm, revealing a painted red key. It matches his helmet. “So you don’t have to keep coming through the window.”

Jason thinks he might have a panic attack.

He’s comfortable around you. You’re his best friend. You’ve been friends for years, long before Red Hood. You know everything there is to know about him. It’s why he’s so comfortable walking into your apartment and grabbing his food. It’s why he can get some sleep when he’s here. But, having a key feels serious. It feels like a large responsibility. It feels like a commitment to something he’s not sure he knows what to do with.

He's staring at your palm like the key might try to bite and you have to hold your breath. There's always a chance he says no and it really shouldn't be a big deal because he's your best friend but you hold your breath anyway. You tell yourself it's just a key because Jason Todd deserves to feel welcomed somewhere at all times and that somewhere is here.

“Jay, you’re here all the time.” You tell him before you grab his hand and put the key in it. “Just use the damn key. And whenever you want.” You shrug. “I know sometimes you just don’t want to be alone so you can just come over whenever. I don’t know. You’re just always welcome.” You glance to the key in his hand and then up to him, hoping he takes it.

“I can’t do that.” Jason shakes his head, still holding out the palm of his hand.

“And why not?” You challenge.

Jaosn’s different than he was when you were kids. He’s guarded, cautious, you think he’s scared. When he was a kid, he was a little fearless and a little reckless. It wasn’t anything too crazy but a little reckless. He was open and welcoming. He was still cautious but it was more that caution just came from needing to survive from one day to the next. Jason’s caution today makes him look over his shoulder, look at every single person near him to see if they have a weapon. It makes him hide a gun under your couch and in one of your cabinets. He has a stash of food in his apartment he thinks you don’t know about. He’s different now than he was. So, you offer patience while still testing him. He doesn’t need to be different with you.

“Not trying to impose.” Jason tries to play off his own fears. “The window’s fine.” He tries to deflect. “It’s not even a bother anyway and—“

You let out a sigh cutting him off. “You’re not imposing if I’m inviting you which I am. The window’s fine until someone spots you and wants to know what the fuck is going on. The door is right here.” You point over your shoulder to the door. “Just take the key and use it.” You offer him a soft smile. "I want you here." You clarify.

Maybe it’s not the key itself that makes Jason want to run through a window. It’s the implication of what a key could lead to. And what if you ask for it back?

What if you change your mind?

“I painted it to match your helmet.” Your eyes soften, a hint of innocence behind them.

Jason's eyes go to the table, spotting his helmet and his chest feels like it’s on fire. Most of the stationary you own has to do with the bats. You have random collectibles of theirs, too which may have actually been gifted to you but you have them regardless. But the key to your apartment is Red Hood red.

You think you see a smile forming.

“Fine.” He caves, curling his fingers around the key before stuffing it deep into his pocket. “‘M gonna thank you for it then.”

“Okay, Jay.” You shine, relieved he took it.

“Can I eat now?” He points to his bowl of food that's no longer steaming.

“Yes, yes you can.” You chime.

Jason picks up his bowl, leaning his lower back against your counter before he twirls the pasta around the fork. You sit in front of him on your table just watching him. He’s your best friend but it’s hard not to notice how the armor compliments his muscle. It’s hard not to notice how pretty he is even in the low light of your apartment. You think he’s always been pretty but since reconnecting, you can’t help but think he’s stunning and tall and big. Your mind wanders to his hands, the way he holds the fork with large but delicate fingers as if he could break the metal with ease. You think how it would feel to hold his hand in yours, knowing Jason’s always radiated heat. You think how his palms are probably calloused and how they’d feel against your skin and—

Nope.

You shake your head of your own thoughts. He’s your friend and you’re just extra tired and touch-starved lately.

“How was patrol?” You ask with ease, kicking your feet in front of you, just missing his legs.

He shrugs. “Not too bad.” He answers. “Stopped a few robberies.” He states as he twirls his fork around his pasta.

“You look tired.”

He hums softly before taking his first bite, not even realizing how hungry he was until now.

“You look tired.” Jason quips back with the nod of his head towards you.

“That’s because it’s four in the morning.” You laugh softly. “Most people are tired at this time.” You widen your eyes at him to tease him.

"You can go back to bed, don't have to watch me eat." Jason widens his eyes back at you in response.

"No, that's okay." You smile back at him, not wanting to go back to bed when you could be out here with him.

“You know,” Jason starts as he points his fork at you. “Gotta get you different stationary. Tired of your Nightwing, Red Robin, and Robin bullshit.” He changes subject, a little relieved you want to stay up a little bit with him. He feels guilty you're up with him but he does really enjoy your company.

“Aww,” You give him a pout. “But don’t you just love Dick and Damian and Tim?”

Jason blinks at you a few times as he keeps a straight face before taking another bite.

You let out a laugh and Jason thinks your laugh could cure him of all of his sadness.

“They’re your brothers.” You giggle.

“Exactly.” Jason answers.

“I could have painted your key Nightwing blue or the Robin colors.” You tease him with a cheeky grin.

“Can’t pick Spoiler or Orphan?” Jason says it more sarcastically than anything else.

“No, you like Steph and Cass.” You laugh.

“Swear, if I show up to Batman shit, I’m out.” Jason laughs back.

You make a mental note to pick up a Batman mug tomorrow just to fuck with him.

“Of course not.” You scoff but Jason knows he's given you the bad idea.

Jason laughs softly before taking another bite. “Go to bed.”

You let out a sigh before you hop down, noticing Jason is almost done eating anyway. "Pillow and blanket are already on the couch for you."

Jason glances to the couch, seeing a pale blue blanket peaking out from the arm of the couch.

"Thank you." Jason offers you a sincere but small smile. "Goodnight."

“Goodnight, Jay.” You smile softly before heading back to your room.

The next morning, you’re awakened by the smell of something cooking in your kitchen. For a few seconds, you think you’re either dreaming or hallucinating. But the longer you lay in bed, the more you become positive there’s definitely food being made.

It smells a little sweet and warm. It actually smells warm. And yet, it’s almost completely silent in your apartment. You figure it’s Jason because Jason can cook but you have no clue how he manages to be so quiet about everything he does. Sure, it’s his training and his life depends on it, but every time you try to cook anything, you drop at least one pan onto the floor and utensils usually go flying somewhere. You feel bad for you downstairs neighbors.

You grab your phone from the charger, pocketing it before you head out to the kitchen, still wiping sleep from your eyes. The smell grows stronger and you finally figure out it’s your favorite breakfast food. A smile pokes at your lips because, in all your years of friendship, you and Jason have only done breakfast a handful of times but he remembers anyway.

He’s attentive. That’s also something that comes with his training because his life depends on it. But, you knew him before Rd Hood. Before Robin and Batman. Jason Todd has always been attentive and you don’t think it’s something about living on the streets. It’s something that’s embedded into his DNA, pay attention to small things. Maybe that’s because of his mom, his overall childhood of having to take care of her but maybe it’s also just him.

“Morning.” You greet as you stretch your arms over your head, bending your back back a bit.

“G’morning.” Jason greets as he turns around from the stove.

He sounds well-rested.

He looks well-rested for once.

“You’re making breakfast?” You question as you walk over to your coffee maker, an empty cup already ready sitting there for you.

“Told ya I’d pay you back.” Jason states as he continues cooking.

“You really know the way to my heart.” You joke as you get your coffee going. “Always food.”

You watch Jason continue to cook and you think you could probably be mesmerized by everything he does. He's not really doing anything special but it seems that way because it's him. He could trip over a rock and fall into a lake and you'd still be mesmerized.

"Hello?" Jason calls, waving a hand in front of your face. Your eyes snap up to his as you feel your cheeks starting to burn. "I asked how you slept." Jason chuckles as he starts to plate the food for the both of you. "You alright?"

You shake your head, almost fumbling for words. "Yeah, sorry. Zoned out." You clear your throat before you start to pour your cup of coffee. "Good, to answer your question." You let out a breath with the roll of your shoulders. "You?" You ask with a soft smile before you make your way to your spot at the table.

Jason always tends to sleep better here. Your couch isn’t exactly the most comfortable or the biggest but he still feels like he gets real sleep whenever he’s here. He could sleep a few hours and still be more rested than had he just slept at his place.

Jason doesn’t mind being alone, it’s always a bit safer if not for him then for the people around him but being alone gets pretty lonely. He doesn’t have to feel alone here. You’re here and he thinks he’d never be lonely again if you were always around.

“Good.” Jason answers, not willing to elaborate on his thoughts. “Your breakfast is served, princess.” Jason smirks at you with his quip as he sets the plate down in front of you.

“Ass.” You retort with the roll of your eyes just as Jason goes to take the plate back. Your hand grips his wrist. Your hand is no match for him, it’s tiny compared to him and his strength alone is enough but he stops anyway. “No, no, I’ll take this thank you.” You push his hand away and guard your food.

He laughs with the shake of his head and you hope the walls are absorbing the sound. Jason stays at your apartment a few days a week but he’s never here when you wake up. The blanket is always folded on the arm of the couch with the pillow placed perfectly on top. There’s always some sort of note thanking you for letting him crash. Sometimes, if you sleep in because work sucked or you're sick, he picks up some of your favorite snacks and takeout, leaving it in the fridge for you for when you wake up. But, he’s never here.

You find yourself thinking you could get used to this though. His laugh in the early morning and him looking so comfortable.

His hair is all tousled from sleeping. He looks a little disheveled. You see him disheveled all the time because he always has helmet hair and he’s always getting himself into trouble. It kind of comes tih with territory, you think. But, today, it’s just because he slept here. He looks disheveled because his hair is messy and he’s comfortable. He looks comfortable and warm and you’d go as far as to say he looks beautiful.

You hope he chooses to stay more.

“Okay, I didn't know you could cook this good.” You states after taking a few bites, genuinely surprised. Is there anything Jason Todd is bad at?

A rosey shade of pink dusts over his cheeks as he shrugs. “What? Thought I only eat pasta and whatever else you managed to save me?” He quips, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through his ribcage.

“Well…yes.” You let out a laugh while Jason offers you his fake glare.

“Like to cook sometimes, got good at it.” Jason shrugs a shoulder with his minimal explanation.

“Well, now you have to cook more.” You shrug easily as you offer him a grin.

“I have to?” Jason raises a brow at you, taunting you to rethink your words.

You don’t.

“Yes. I said so.” You laugh back at him.

“Not sure I want to now.” Jason shrugs his shoulders dramatically.

“Awww, pretty please, Jay.” You give him a pout and not even a single ounce of him actually believes he’d ever be able to say no to you about anything.

“What’d ya want for dinner?” Jason asks before he goes back to his food.

“Wait, really?” You beam and Jason glances back to you.

There’s always this sort of pull in his chest when things feel good, like he’s undeserving and he needs to wait for the other foot to drop. It feels like this now. He feels comfortable here. He’s happy here with you. You’re his favorite person and you're always the person he wants to talk to you about a new book he read or something insane one of the bats did. You’re the first person, the only person, he goes to when he’s been hurt on patrol. Jason swears you’re his best friend despite the beating and rumbling through his ribcage.

“Unless you’re bored of--”

“I’m never bored of you.” You cut him off immediately. “Okay, I’ll think of something and I can help.” You beam back at him with excitement before going back to your food.

A smile tugs at the corner of Jason’s lips and despite the worrying and fear of this whole thing blowing up in his face, he finds himself thinking he could get used to mornings with you, just like this.

#alex answers #Anonymous #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction #request #requests #blurbs

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moonydustx · 3 days

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response to this request @i0fty I loved your request (I have a thing for writing hurt/comfort and angst). I really hope you like it. I wrote it as f!reader, but I can adjust it if I want

warnings: F!Reader is attacked, mention of celestial dragons, Law and she have feelings for each other and it's obvious, Law saves F!Reader

one piece masterlist

----

As soon as you set foot on that island, you knew there was something strange, something that sent a chill down your spine. It would be a short break to stock up on some emergency supplies and head towards the next island, which was larger and would have more interesting information for your crew.

Even so, some crewmates and your captain, Law, disembarked next to you.

"So, do you need a lot of things?" Law tried to make conversation, seeing you take a small map out of your pocket and point to something he could barely understand.

"I needed some lemongrass herbs. I saw they sell them here, but they are expensive, however, given the climate of this island I think I can find some in this green area." You explained, seeing him nod and hand you a few more berris.

"Don't go far, it might not be safe. If you can find something to buy, buy it" he insisted, seeing you look around, apparently suspicious. "What it was?"

"Do you feel something strange in the air?" you asked and saw him repeat your gesture of checking the surrounding environment.

"Some residents seem a little scared." Shachi who had also disembarked scored.

"It could be our imagination, as well as some confusion that happened. Which would be a great attraction for the marine." Law explained as you walked behind him. "Be careful and don't get into any kind of trouble."

"Yes captain." even in uncoordinated unison, you responded together.

"And you, what are you going to explore?" you asked Law as the others scattered. "Not that there's much to do."

"Do you remember that old book about spirit hunters that you mentioned? I saw that there might be a copy around here."

"Bullshit! Are you going to buy it?" Law laughed lightly, almost imperceptibly when he saw your excitement.

"Just don't tell Bepo, he'll say I have favoritism in the crew." the captain pointed out. "If you finish early, meet me at the bookstore. It should be easy to find, I don't think there are many around here."

The promise of meeting him later made you excited. Your relationship with the captain was something different from your relationship with others - you shared games, reading and conversations until late at night. Sometimes, it was as if the two of you were in a little world of your own.

You even tried to use the money provided by Law but, in addition to being insufficient, the little shop had strange looks from all sides. The feeling on that island was of being spied on with every step taken, with every interaction.

Moving away from the small shopping center and without even entering the small forest that almost annexes the city, you found some bushes that you needed. It was simple to harvest them and tie them in a way to transport them without losing any leaves.

Before you could stand up and continue your journey to the bookstore, you felt something against your neck, but you were able to dodge it and roll to the other side. Finally standing up, she could see two men staring at you.

"I'm sorry, lady, but we have orders to take you." one of them warned and you bent down to reach the knife you had used to harvest, unfortunately not fast enough to feel something burn in your hand.

"What the fuck… You know what? I'm going to kill you" you left things aside and went out to fight them.

Even using everything you knew about fighting, trying to use all the blows that came to your mind, you still ended up getting hit more times, some of the blows you barely understood where they were coming from.

"What do you want with me?!" you shouted once again, being ignored.

The metallic taste on your lips indicated that the attack you suffered had been much stronger than you expected. Both the desire to fight and the fear itself caused your adrenaline to skyrocket, leaving you alert to any movement from the two men.

"You should save your efforts." one of them emphasized, the handcuffs on his hands made an annoying noise as they clashed together. "They will need you at full strength."

"And it's not like you're going to win alone." the other completed, stretching out the whip and hitting your arm squarely.

The sensation was something like an unexpected burn, but it wouldn't stop you from fighting, from returning to where you really belonged. Standing up, you advanced towards the shorter man, landing a few punches, enough for him to stagger a little and give you space to escape.

At least that's what you thought until you felt someone pull you back and the click of the handcuffs awakened your despair. No, you couldn't let yourself get carried away like that. How would your friends be? Would they ever see you serving as a doormat for one of those damned celestials?

"This is an aggressive one, just like they asked for." the man pressed his body to yours, in order to speak in your ear. "The guys up there, the big celestial dragons will like a piece like you. They'll hunt you, they'll hurt you and I'll get rich."

No matter how much you struggled, his grip grew even stronger against your body, while the other man got closer to try to cover your face. Perhaps desperation had prevented you from noticing some things around you, awareness hit you completely when the aggressive grip around your body became a gentle, almost protective touch. His voice hit you before your own perception.

"It's ok, I'm here now." Law let his hands run down your arms and he advanced towards the other man.

In another situation, Law would have fun tearing those bodies into pieces and watching them try to reorganize themselves. But this time it was different.

They had messed with one of his crew members, an intelligent aspiring doctor, who would know how to use any and all plants to her advantage, who was great at playing chess and had read a good part of Sora's stories - even if the last ones were by his invitation. She was the girl who laughed at anything while dying of shyness when someone pointed out an adjective to her. She was the girl he dreamed of getting some attention, but her scared eyes indicated that those bastards had hurt her and he couldn't let that go.

The first man - who Law hadn't changed places to reach you - soon fell to the ground, clearly unconscious.

"Where's the other one?" your voice was exasperated, as your eyes tried to hunt the other guy through some trees.

"Shachi and Penguin already took care of him." Law pointed out while looking for keys to the handcuff.

"W-we need ... W-we need to check!" the way your voice sounded urgent alerted Law, forcing him to get closer to you. "He can get help, they have whips and…"

"Hey!" He tried to call you, not having much success. When his hands found your face, Law saw you flinch. "Look at me, Shachi and Penguin already took care of this… Look at me!" he pulled your face back, seeing you want to dodge.

"But… T-they had whips... and handcuffs and they were going to t-take me to the c-celestial dragons." the words stumbled as they left your lips.

"They won't, I would never let them." Law insisted, seeing you nod, even though he knew the words wouldn't truly reach you.

"Let's go back to Polar Tang, what do you think?" he suggested and saw you nod practically in slow motion and remain silent.

As quickly as Law had transported you back to the submarine, the thoughts were faster than you could express.

It was difficult to process some things, you still had a hard time accepting that there were people who felt so superior to others that they chose random people to be hunted. You had heard of it, but you always thought of it as something far away from you, that it was just a scary story that would stay far away.

But there you were, feeling your wounds being cleaned by careful hands, extremely contrary to what you had felt just now.

"Please…" Law's voice came out almost like a sigh. "I need you to say something."

"What do you need?" Your eyes watched as Law left the tweezers with the cotton on the small tray next to him.

"You're too immersed in your own mind and I can tell you that's not a good thing." he explained and saw you rambling again, it was clear that something was wrong. "Please don't think just talk to me."

"I thought everything was lost, you know?" you began, feeling your eyes sting with tears. "I've never felt so scared."

"I told you, I would never let that happen." Law didn't hesitate as he ran his hand over your face, brushing away some tears that insisted on coming out. "And I promise this won't happen again."

"You're the captain, you have more things to worry about." a weak, almost inaudible laugh came out of you. "Do I really matter that much?"

"Much more than you think." he pointed out and saw you smile shyly. "I was in the bookstore and I started hearing some comments about missing people. They all had some kind of similarity to you… I know they are in different ways, but I felt scared like I haven't felt in a long time."

"What does that mean?"

"That I'm going to finish stitching up those wounds, I'm going to make you something to eat and after that, you won't be out of my sight anymore." he explained.

Even though you felt a slight discomfort in the wounds on your arm, you allowed your face to lean against his chest, your arms to wrap around him in a simple hug. His face lowered itself to the top of your head and a "I promise to always be here" was whispered in your embrace.

#fiction #reader insert #one piece #no use of y/n #trafalgar d law x reader #law x you #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law

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fallstaticexit · 3 days

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Prev / Next / Beginning / Pillowfort

Geoffrey and Bob Karaoke selection- Creep - Radiohead

AN: A little more insight on Nancy and her major: Nancy is majoring in architecture. The Landgraabs are famously known for owning land and property- both residential and commercial- and Nancy will eventually operate the part of family business that will allow her to design houses, buildings and other structures in addition to leasing. (Geoffrey comes from a family of doctors but he decided to get a business degree- as he knows this would likely please Nancy's parents)

Transcript under the cut

Siobhan: Think about it, Nancy! Making your mark on this university—on the world—begins with Theta!

Becca: Nice one, you two.

Nancy: They only want me to join their organization because it’ll benefit them. All they care about is money -Ouch!

Geoffrey: [winces] Sorry. Your knees are completely raw.

Geoffrey: They’ve only got as far as knowing your name. If you give them a chance to get to know the real you-

Nancy: There’s nothing to know! Why do you think I had my parents make arrangements so I’d have my own room? I don’t want roommates. I don’t want friends! I just want to do my time so I can-

Geoffrey: Get away, I know...but what if you just take the next four years to have fun? It’s ok to just enjoy it for what it is. Isn’t that what college is all about?

Nancy: [scoffs] Sure, for you. You don’t have the same expectations as me.

Nancy: You can be anything you want. You can join any sports team; you can switch your major a million times if you want to. I have to excel at everything I do, whether I want to or not, and I cannot come out of this a failure. I have to be ready to start working along with my parents the moment I graduate.

Geoffrey: I just want you to be happy. I want you to take care of yourself. Be kinder to yourself. Give yourself the benefit of the doubt. You’re a good person. You’re an amazing person, Nancy. Anyone would be lucky to be apart of your life.

Geoffrey: Does this hurt?

Nancy: Yes. It hurts.

Nancy: You’re too good for me.

Geoffrey: Don’t say that.

Geoffrey: It’s Karaoke night at Tab’s. Bobby and I wanted to check it out. Did you want to go?

Nancy: I think I’ll pass. I should get started on this project for Munch. I want to get ahead.

Geoffrey: If you change your mind, come down and unwind a bit. Have fun. Eat. Ok?

Nancy: Ok.

Geoffrey: I love you, Nance.

[door shuts]

Nancy Narrates: [I’m holding him back. A selfish part of me knows it, but I can’t fathom the thought of losing someone else]

[distant laughter]

Nancy: Heavenly Father, help me to find peace in Your love and wisdom-

Geoffrey and Bob Karaoke Pick: Creep by Radiohead I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo What the hell am I doin' here? I don't belong here

[crowd whistles and cheers]

I don't care if it hurts I wanna have control

I want a perfect body I want a perfect soul

Morgan: [hums] Upright High Priestess. That’s twice now. Once again, my intuition is being called forth.

I want you to notice When I'm not around

Morgan: My appetite is off. I can’t focus. If I weren’t on the pill, I’d think I was knocked up. So. What does that leave me with? I can almost bet this is all connected to-

Morgan: You! You have something to do with this.

Nancy: [frowns] Do with...what, exactly?

You're so fuckin' special I wish I was special

But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo

Morgan: Rich Christian girl with walls as high as Berlin stumbles on campus and taps my shoulder. I had a dream the night before that I placed an injured dove back into its nest. I think this is fate. Sit. I’ll do your reading. Free of charge, of course.

Nancy Narrates: [I didn’t know it then, how right she was. About fate. About everything]

What the hell am I doin' here? I don't belong here

#the art of being seen #the landgraabs #nancy landgraab #morgan fyres #geoffrey landgraab #siobhan fyres #becca clarke #sims 4 stories #ts4 simblr #sims 4 simblr #sims 4

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bunnybrews · 1 day

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the predator, the prey and the hunter- sylus x reader (slight mc x reader)

genre : angst, slight yandere, suggestive

syn : betrayal isn't something sylus takes lightly, specially when it comes from his bunny.

cw : non-mc! reader, abduction, violence, hair pulling, choking, usage of nicknames (dove, bunny, love, doll, etc.), mention of slapping, slight yandere behaviour.

wc : 2,961

you were nothing but a low ranking member of onychinus, so receiving a mission of such importance was extremely rare and yet here you were, babysitting the hunter who had recently been abducted by your master.

you watched in wonder as the hunter moved around, seemingly searching for an exit. there was a certain grace she carried which enamoured you.

she had everything you wanted, she was everything you wanted to be. brave, kind, strong willed and above all, she belonged to the place of your dreams, linkon city.

you had always wanted to go to linkon, to see the sun, to feel its rays hit your body and fill you with a deep sense of joy and warmth just like all those books described.

but alas, some dreams can never be fulfilled. your fate had already been decided when you took birth in a small shady cabin in the N109 zone to a mother who had a terminal illness and a father who was barely there due to his duties as an onychinus member.

you remember being barely fourteen when the news of your father dying during a mission reached you home. your mother had cried and sobbed all day while you just sat there, unable to bring yourself to cry over a man who you barely saw.

your mother followed your father's footsteps just a year later. her illness finally taking what was left of her.

just a day after your mother's death, the leader of onychinus had personally visited your small shack, offering you a place in his mansion and a position in his syndicate.

though you had nothing against him personally, infact, you held a certain amount of respect for him, yet this was not what you wanted. you didn't want to be part of a criminal organisation, no, you wanted to leave.

you wanted to fulfil the dreams you saw as a young child, to experience the stories your mother often read to you, you wanted to escape the dark alleys of N109 zone and flee to linkon.

yet you weren't dumb enough to refuse his offer. you knew that doing so would ensure a rather painful death. hence, you agreed.

and here you were now, staring at the hunter as if she was some goddess who had just descended from the high heavens.

the stars in your eyes were painfully visible to everyone, including the hunter. she could see the curiosity and naivety that lingered in your eyes. as much as it bothered her, she knew tricking and using you would be her only way to escape this hell.

your eyes lit up as you saw the hunter take a seat next to you on the sofa before you quickly looked away, trying to school your expressions back to neutral.

though before you got the chance to do so, a hand was placed on your thigh making you snap your head towards the hunter who was currently smiling down at you.

the fact that the hunter was a few inches taller than you was made evident when you had to crane your head up to look into her eyes.

they were green like the protocores you saw being transported in and out of the mansion and so so shiny! you were basically lost in their vibrancy.

a gentle squeeze to your thigh brought you out of your musing as a chuckle left the hunter's pretty lips.

“what's your name?” it was a simple question but the voice that left her lips had you in a trance, one that was broken by another squeeze to your thigh.

“i- i can't tell you my name. sorry!”

you were quick to remember your training and lessons, making sure to not reveal anything.

“why though? its just a name, its not like i'm going to report you to the hunters or something”

“umm yeah but master told us to not reveal anything about ourselves to anyone. he says that it could lead us into a lot of trouble. i'm really sorry but i can't go against his orders”

the hunter huffed in annoyance as she realised that she won't be finding any answers from the girl anytime soon. she had to change her approach.

“no no, you don't need to apologise. its my fault for asking. it's just that i've been trapped here for so long and you are the first person who hasn't been rude to me, i was just trying to get to know you more i guess, i'm sorry.”

her voice was softer now, hints of sadness and pain wafting through it. you couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for the girl sitting next to you, your heart melting a little at the frown on her face.

“i understand, it must have been hard for you, not having anyone to talk to. while i may not be able to share anything valuable with you, i'll be more than happy to indulge in a conversation!”

a smirk graced the hunter's lips for a second, the innocent dove had just entered the cage set up for her. she almost scoffed at your naivety. you don't belong here in this hell, she would have to make sure to take you with her when she finally finds a way out.

“how about we play 20 questions? we'll be able to get to know each other better this way without revealing any crucial details about ourselves and you can just skip the questions which you feel are too imposing.”

the hunter's plan was perfect. a game of 20 questions was her best shot at gathering whatever information she could under the guise of getting to know each other.

“that sounds so fun! we can do that!”

“alright, i'll start. why did you join onychinus?”

she watched as you tensed up, an air of uncomfort forming around you. sensing your unease, she decided to tread carefully and changed up the question.

“nevermind, you don't have to answer that. hmm, well…how about…what is something that you really want to do or really want to achieve?”

the hunter knew that this was a risky gamble yet the gleam that took over your eyes at the question reassured her. your voice was soft as you shyly answered while playing with your hands.

“i've always wanted to see the sun. i've heard lots of stories about it, my mom used to read them to me before bed! i just wanna see it with my own eyes. anyways, its my turn to ask you a question now!”

she nodded at you, motioning you to ask away.

“how does the sun feel like? does it feel good when you walk in the sunlight? is it just like the stories or does it hurt and irritate you?”

“it's even better than the stories. walking in the sunlight feels like you are being embraced by warmth itself. it's really magical.”

hook, line and sinker! the trap had already been set into place, all she needed to do now was to lure you out and judging by the look of amazement in your eyes, she could tell that she was already halfway there.

“alright, it seems to be my turn now. if you really want to see the sun so badly, then why are you still here in this damned place?”

she observed the way you lowered you head slightly and chewed on your bottom lip. she sighed as her hopes of getting an answer out of you diminished.

“uh well, i can't just leave. master won't allow it.”

“why? does he not give you any freedom to do as you wish? has he trapped you here as well?”

“it's not like that! i am allowed to roam around the zone all i want but i can't leave. it's against the rules. also, even if i was allowed to leave the zone, its not like i could ever step into linkon without being hunted down and charged for my association with onychinus.”

the frown tugging at your lips quickly lifted as a warm hand was placed under your jaw, gently lifting your face up.

“i can help you. i know someone who can make up a fake identity for you, no one will be able to recognize you!”

you sighed against her palm turning your face slightly so that your cheek was resting against her palm instead of your jaw.

“what's a fake identity gonna do when i can't even leave the zone? i told you, i'm not allowed to leave”

“then let's run away. run away with me and we'll go to linkon. let me help you. help me so i can help you.”

she felt the way you tensed up and drew back from her, a gasp leaving your lips. the hesitation was visible in your eyes, but there was something else too.

“y-you shouldn't be saying things like that out loud! master will be so angry if he heard you. he'll lock you up and kill me for even talking about such things if he heard this.

“will you please stop thinking about your master for a second and instead think about yourself for once! what about you? what about your wants? your desires? are you really just going to give all your dreams up like that? is this what you want? to keep living in this slump until you grow old and die one day without even seeing the sunlight? is that what you want, huh?”

her words jabbed at a wound that had always been present in your heart. you don't want this. you don't want to grow old here and die without seeing the sunlight, just like your parents did. you don't want the same fate as them.

the hunter smirked as she watched the flame she had ignited swallow you whole. the sweet sound of your resolve crumbling was audible to her. she could see your hesitation being replaced with determination.

“but how? how are you going to take me to linkon when you yourself are trapped here?”

“this, my love, is where you enter the plan. you will get me out of here, and as repayment, i'll get you a new identity and citizenship in linkon.”

“but how would i be able to help you? if i knew how to escape this place successfully, don't you think i would have used that tactic to flee already?”

“you may not know how to escape the N109 zone but i'm sure you know how to exit this mansion. all you have to do is get me out of here and leave the rest to me. don't worry your pretty little head too much by overthinking, doll. just lead me out of here, and i'll take you with me to the place of your dreams.”

she held out her hand to you, patiently waiting for you to accept her offer. it didn't surprise her a bit when your soft hand found its way into hers, fingers intertwined together.

you quickly stood up, taking the hunter with you as you used your key to open the door, leading the both of you towards the hallway which you knew would open into a secret exit.

the both of you dashed towards the exit hand in hand until a black mist suddenly pushed you both back forcefully, making you crash into the nearest wall.

before you could even open your mouth to let out a whine, a pair of blood red eyes captured your gaze. he found out.

you glanced at the hunter when the sound of someone choking and wheezing started filling the room. you could see the black mist tightly coiled around her neck, squeezing the life out of her.

if this is how he punished the girl who he had abducted because she owned something that was necessary for his plan, you didn't even want to find out how he would punish you, a low ranking employee.

all you could do was shut your eyes tightly and await the punishment that you were sure was going to come your way.

the feeling of a bruising grip on your jaw was all that you felt before you were pushed aside, your body hitting the floor as you finally opened your eyes to see your master stalking towards the hunter.

the choking noises subsided as the grip of his evol loosened. you watched as he touched the hunter's hair before roughly pulling them, making her look into his eyes.

“were you really dumb enough to believe that you could escape me, huh? you really thought you could plot against me in my own home and i won’t find you? i must commend you though, you may not be the smartest tool in the shed, but you are an excellent manipulator or maybe my dumb little bunny is just too stupid, falling for your silly tricks”

just as the last sentence left his lips, he turned towards you. the trembles in your body increased as the distance between you and your master decreased.

you felt his evol coil around yourself as you were brought to your feet, body immobilised and held in place by his evol.

tears started leaking out of your eyes as you awaited your fate. a whimper escaping your trembling lips as a hand reached up towards your face. you expected a slap but instead were greeted by his rough calloused fingers wiping your tears.

“my stupid bunny, always managing to find a way to amuse me. did you really think that i would let you leave? so dumb. what am i going to do with you? should i lock you up in a room just like her, take all your freedom away? or should i punish you, show you what happens to naughty little bunnies when they disobey their masters? tell me bunny, which one do you prefer?

you knew it was a trick question and yet you shook your head wildly. glancing up at your master with tears still streaming down your eyes as soft sobs left your lips, you could see the disappointment in his eyes.

the knowledge that you were the reason for the disappointment made your sobs increase in both volume and velocity. your body trembling badly under the hold of his evol.

seeing your pitiful condition, the hunter couldn't help but blame herself, the sight of you tear stained face making her lose her temper and rebel against the energy holding her in place.

“step away from her you monster! she had no part in this!”

sylus snapped his head towards the hunter, eyes narrowing in annoyance as she fought for you as if you were hers to protect.

it was obvious that the hunter had taken a liking to you and this filled the red eyed man with fury. the thought of the hunter liking you was sending his brain into an overdrive.

he had to prove his ownership over you. needed to prove his ownership over you. if he was going to have to take you in front of the damned hunter to prove that you were his then so be it.

he used his evol to pull you towards himself, a hand snaking down to your waist as he pulled you closer until your back was resting against his chest.

“tch, you see miss hunter, that's where you are wrong. she did have a part in this, a huge part if i say so myself.”

his grip tightened over you as his other hand went to your face, turning it to an angle so that you were staring into his eyes once again.

“she should have known better than to fall for your antics. she should've been smarter and most importantly, she should've remembered who she belongs to”

with that he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. the kiss was anything but gentle. his teeth pulled at your lower lip, tongue swirled around yours, lips moved against yours at a bruising pace, all while you stood there like a statue.

he pulled away from you after sometime of sucking the life straight out of your mouth. his eyes briefly finding yours before they moved to the hunter who had her jaw clenched and anger flared at the sight.

he watched in amusement as she thrashed around his evol, trying to escape the bruising grip before looking down at you once again.

you were still staring up at him with your glossy lips parted and your eyes widened in horror. at that moment you looked like the textbook definition of adorable if he may say so himself.

he used the hand holding your face to gently push a strand of stray hair behind your ear before leaning down to whisper in your ear, his voice low but loud enough for both you and the hunter to hear.

“i think i finally figured you punishment out bunny. you've been such a naughty girl lately. do you know what happens to naughty girls? they get fucked roughly by their masters. im not that cruel though, so i'll make your punishment a little easier for you. since you've taken such a liking to miss hunter over there, i'll make sure she stays with you, watching you while i fuck the life out of you. you would like that, won't you bunny?

you were suddenly pushed onto your knees and the hand which was previously holding you now rested on your head.

cautiously, you peeked up at the hunter hoping to find a sign of reassurance in her eyes but to your shock, her eyes, just like your master's, were glazed with lust.

oh heavens, tonight was definitely going to be a long and tiring one for you.

#✿ bun's brew ─ sylus #love and deepspace #sylus x reader #lnds x reader #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace sylus #lnds #lnds sylus #l&ds #lads x reader #l&ds x reader #lads #l&ds sylus #lads sylus

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ihavethedreamies · 2 days

Text

Her Hero | Lee Know

Lee Minho - Stray Kids

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~5k

Pairing: Podocheong! Lee Know x Noble! AFAB! Reader

(The Podocheong were like the police of Joseon Era Korea)

Genre: Historical AU!, Joseon Era, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Some Plot, Frenemies-to-Lovers (ish)

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Pet Names (Sweetheart mostly), Fingering, First Times (Readers), Breeding Kink (kinda), Breathplay, A Single Spank, Masochist! Reader (surprise~!), Unprotected Sex (This is pre-birth control so…)

Summary: When a political rival of your father kidnaps you for a ransom, your father calls on the Podocheong (Police) to rescue you. An extremely handsome Bujang (Lieutenant) rescues you, but you would be loathe to admit you need (and like) a hero.

Author's Note: Here's Lee Know's!! Working on Changbin's, should be up very soon.

At the bottom I will have a guide for all the untranslated words I use, most of which are to do with the clothing they wear.

P.S. I'm having so much fun with these but I have to help watch our dog so she doesn't get on my uncle's furniture and so then I can't work on these during the day :\

Also, if any of my historical information/words are inaccurate, I apologize, I did the best with what research I could and what I know from watching too many historical K-Dramas.

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I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

Your father was an important man who did important things. Unfortunately, some people didn't like the things he did or the way he did them. Namely, the Right State Minister…your father was the Left State Minister, so they should work together. No. They hated each other. Even more so because your father refused to let you marry the other Minister's son. That made the other man's son hate you…for some reason, like you had any say in the matter. You didn't even know the guy existed till your father told you he had prevented your marriage.

One day, as you waited by the entrance to your family's estate, you draped a sseugaechima over your head, waiting for your brother to join you. He was going to escort you to your friend's house, and you were getting impatient.

"Sorry!" He dashed through the courtyard, leaning down and panting to catch his breath. When he stood, the top of his gat wacked you on the chin and you flinched back.

"Sorry!" He floundered, peeling the head covering off so he could look at your annoyed face for any injury. He was such a klutz but at least he tried to make up for it.

"Let's just go please, orabeoni." You sniffed, recovering your head and you left the estate grounds. Your older brother weaved through the crowd, you held onto the belt of his hanbok to make sure you didn't get separated. There must have been some kind of big event or something going on because there were people everywhere.

"Ah, wait!" You cried out, someone bumped into you hard, and you let go of your brother.

"(Y/N)?" He turned around, his height allowing him to look over most of the crowd, but your own height hid you more. You were shoved and pushed as people whirled around you and called his name out.

"(Y/N)!" He shouted, but before you could reply, something hit you hard in the back of the head and you saw black.

~~~

When you woke up, you hurt. Your head hurt the most, but your whole body was sore. As your senses returned, you looked around in confusion. You were in a bedroom of what looked like an inn or other kind of lodging. Sitting up from the bed, you rubbed at the back of your head, looking around. Did your brother find you? If so, why did he bring you to a lodging rather than just back to your home? He also wasn't in the room. Did you pass out and a random person bring you here till you woke up? At the other side of the room, on the other side of a folding divider, you heard the door open. Unfortunately, it was not your brother that came in, you actually had no idea who it was. He was dressed all in black and his face was even covered.

"W-who are you?" You backed up on the bed, back hitting the wall, like that would really be of any use. He didn't say anything, but he pulled out a dagger and you froze in shock. Logically, you knew you could scream, but you couldn't physically get one out. He stalked forward and you closed your eyes, waiting for the worst. You squeaked when he grabbed your hair, right above where your daenggi was tied, and…cut your hair. He left as quickly as he came, the end of your hair along with the ribbon in his hand. What? Reaching around, you brought your hair over your shoulder to look at where he cut, nearly half of the length was gone.

"That-" you were madder more than anything else. Couldn't he have just undone the ribbon to use as proof? It was clear he didn't want to hurt you because you were in a nice room, not tied up, and other than a throbbing spot on the back of your head, you were unharmed.

After what felt like around an hour of sitting in the corner, contemplating what to do, you got up to look around. You weren't sure about trying to escape. Just because you were unhurt up until then didn't mean your captor would be so merciful if you tried to leave. Plus, you might get more hurt escaping, you were pretty sure you were on a second or even third floor. Just to check though…nope, the window shutters were locked from the other side it seemed. Plus, obviously, so was the door. Great. As time ticked by, you messed with the various objects of décor, trying to prevent boredom. Didn't work. All the drawers were empty and there wasn't even a baduk board for you to mess around with. After being nosy even more, you found a book wedged in the back of a dresser, between the back panel of the drawer and the piece as a whole. You weren't sure how it got back there and when you finally yanked it out, you sighed.

"Better than nothing." It was some old romance book that had been there for probably at least ten years. Sitting at a table in the room, you started the read, not really enjoying it, but it was better than nothing. More time passed and you were glad there was at least a separate room with a chamber pot, but it was getting dark. Your stomach rumbled and you wondered just how long you had been out cold because you and your brother had left the estate fairly early in the morning. When night fell, you found a lantern but had no way to light it. So, you had to sit in the dark, only the faint light of the moon flowed in through the slits of the locked shutters. Sitting back on the bed, your stomach growled again, and you sighed, laying down. You might as well pass time with sleep.

~~~

You were startled awake when there was a loud commotion outside of not just the lodging but also your room. Getting up from the bed you went to try and look through the slats of the windows but couldn't see much. There was a loud crash, and you turned around just in time to see the door break into pieces as someone kicked it open, not even bothering to try and unlock it first. It was the Podocheong! The man that came in had the uniform of a Bujang, and he sighed in relief upon seeing you. Another officer came in then, taller than the man who had kicked the door in.

"We believe we arrested all of the perpetrators, sir." He bowed slightly to the lieutenant, and he nodded, waving him off.

"Are you okay, Lady (Y/N)?" He came forward, brow furrowed in worry, looking over you. You shrunk under his gaze, embarrassed, hiding your face. His hands went to your jaw, making you look at him so he could see if your face was harmed. Your cheeks felt hot under his thumbs, he was strikingly attractive, but also familiar.

"When your brother couldn't find you, he came straight to me." He told you, letting you go, and you nodded, stepping back, looking away again. He then realized how intimate his action had been, and he bowed, apologizing.

"Are you friends with my orabeoni?"

"Yes, my lady. When we both got to your estate to look for you, your father informed us that a ransom letter had been sent for your safe return. I apologize for not getting here much sooner." You shook your head, casting a glance up at him, not sure if you were allowed to really show him your face.

"Here." He removed his jeonbok, draping it over your head so you could hide under it. Thanking him gently, you pulled it down over your more, it smelled like him, which was amazing.

"Let's get you home."

"W-what is your name?"

"Minho of the Lee clan, my lady."

~~~

When you returned home, not just your mother and brother were in tears like you expected, but your father was as well. He wasn't cold normally, but he just had better control of his emotions.

"Thank you, hyungnim." Your brother bowed to Bujang Minho, still sniffing a bit.

"Yes, we cannot begin to express our gratitude, Bujang." Your father thanked him as well and you let your mother lead you further into the estate so she could hug you. You hugged her tightly back, incredibly grateful to be home safe.

~~~

You weren't sure what Minho had asked of your father in return for rescuing you, but he seemed to be hanging around a lot. While, yes, he was mostly with your brother, you would always find him watching you if you happened to be around or passed by. One day you were sitting at the edge of your family's pond under a parasol, messing around with some embroidery work. You were not very good at it even though you enjoyed it.

"Is that supposed to be a flower?" You heard a teasing remark to your side, and you sent a glare at the owner, but, it was not your brother. Quickly, your face reddened, and you looked back down.

"U-uh yes, but as you can see, I am a little poor at this." You huffed a nervous laugh.

"Then why are you doing it?"

"I like it, just-" You yelped when you poked yourself with the needle, quickly putting the tip of your finger in your mouth. Setting the frame on the ground and putting the needle back in the cushion, you ran a finger over the messy stitching.

"What else do you like to do?" You froze when he sat down next to you, not close enough to touch you, but you weren't expecting it. He wasn't in his Podocheong uniform, the light greenish-blue fabric of his hanbok complimented him well. Looking away from where the material seemed to be struggling over his chest, you cleared your throat.

"I enjoy painting, but once again, I'm not great at it."

"Is there anything you enjoy that you are good at?" You saw him tilt his head to rest it on his fist, elbow resting on his knee, from the side of your eye.

"I…" You were a little stumped.

"N-not really." You enjoyed creative and artistic work, but you were not skilled in the field.

"That's not what your brother told me." Your eyes widened and you shot him a wary look.

"Your father isn't even here." Minho rolled his eyes, and you clenched your jaw. He was kind of getting on your nerves. Mostly because he was stupidly attractive, and you didn't like being teased to begin with.

"I haven't shot a bow in years." You whispered, still weary.

"Worried a man won't want to marry you if you can fight?"

"Archery isn't fighting, and I'm not worried about that." You stood up then, leaving the parasol jabbed in the ground, gathering up your frame and embroidery basket, walking around him to head back to your room.

"Let's go do it." He caught up to you, walking backwards, smirking as he walked ahead of you.

"No." It was too risky, you got caught last time your brother took you to his make-shift archery range.

"We can go to the Podocheong training area, no one will know. No one's there now." You had reached the stairs to get up onto the deck of your house, and you halted at the bottom. The offer was extremely tempting…

"Fine, let me get something to change into."

With a bundle of your brother's old clothes in tow, Minho helped you sneak off the estate grounds. He had at least told your brother, so no one thought you got kidnapped again. Your father didn't check on you after dark so he wouldn't know you weren't in your room. After you arrived at the training grounds, you changed in a bathing room and came out.

"You really look like your brother like that." Minho scoffed and you rolled your eyes.

"I know." You sniffed and he led you toward the back where the archery targets were set up. Without waiting for his prompt, you looked over the different bows on the rack and picked one, then grabbed a quiver as well. It felt instantly familiar, and you were glad for that, but your aim was rusty.

"You're supposed to hit the middle." Minho hummed next to you, pointing to where you had hit off to the side quite a bit.

"I know." You grit your teeth, shooting off another arrow and it missed as well. Was it the bow?

"Here." He moved to adjust your grip on the bow, and you yanked away from his hold.

"I don't need your help." You were embarrassed because you said archery was something you were actually good at.

"You did a few weeks ago." The little string of control you had snapped, the fire of your annoyance singing the ends, and you turned to him, glaring at him straight in the eye.

"What, you want me to say thank you? After my father showered you with gifts and allowed you to loiter around our estate? Fall to my knees in gratitude to my hero? Huh? If you want that go to another girl." You turned back away from him, not noticing his amused grin and you shot another arrow, hitting the red bullseye.

"What?" You nearly growled, standing at the door to your room's building, having opened it to find Minho leaning on the wooden column next to the stairs. He was relentless for the next few weeks, and you were really pissed. More so that you missed when he wouldn't show up with that stupid smirk on his pretty face. Why were you starting to like him when he just teased you all the damn time? Wasn't he your brother's friend? He constantly pestered you to go shoot with him, or go ride on his horse, or some other stuff, and you said no to almost everything. You would only eat with him if he brought snacks or a meal because who says no to food?

"I think you dropped this." You looked to see your eunjangdo dangling from his index finger.

"Give it!" You swiped at it, but he held it up and back behind him so you couldn't reach it. The silver shined in the sun, and you jumped to grab it, falling onto him when you couldn't make it.

"Give it back!" You pressed against him more, fingers barely touching the sheath of the dagger.

"Hm, no." He chuckled and you yiped when he wrapped his other arm around you, holding you to him. Your face bloomed with heat, and you could even see the red on the tip of your nose when you looked at his face, very close to yours.

"I really should stop helping you if you don't want a hero so bad." He finally relented and brought the dagger back down, but he didn't let you go. He was warm against you, and you could feel the muscle he had underneath the layers of clothes and even through your own. Your head was swimming, and you didn't even move to grab your eunjangdo from him when it was within reach.

"Have you heard the rumor about the watermill behind your house by the stream?" Instantly you knew what he was talking about.

"Y-You!" Your face's redness changed from embarrassment to rage, and you pulled away from him, slapping him hard, then turning on your heel and going back inside, the silver dagger still dangling in his grasp.

You didn't want to admit why you were crying, but you held the cushion to your chest closer, pressing your tear-stained face into the pink silk. You weren't overly fond of romance and sweet gestures, but the crassness of his suggestion hurt. Did he only want to bed you and then move on? You hoped deep inside he liked you back. And it wasn't until you cried for a good hour that you realized why you were so upset. You liked him. That’s why you wanted him to like you back.

"Dammit." You sniffed, wiping hard at your face with your sleeve.

"(Y/N)?" A soft voice called from just outside your window, only moonlight coming in through it, one small candle illuminating your room softly.

"(Y/N)? I know you're awake." You registered the owner of the voice, and you deflated further into your cushions.

"Go away." You spat at him.

"(Y/N), please?" Minho's tone was like nothing you had heard before, and it was beginning to compel you.

"No." He could probably hear the insincerity in your voice.

"(Y/N), sweetheart, please?" Your heart stopped, then sped into a gallop when he called you that. Your body seemed to act at the will of your heart and not your brain, because you got up, using a step stool, and opened the window. He smiled, genuinely, and it made you swallow hard. You wanted to cry again.

"I'm so sorry." He stepped forward, the window just the right height for him to rest his arms on the sill from where he stood on the porch. You didn't say anything, you were worried you would burst into tears if you tried.

"I said something horrible; I was just trying to tease you and I hurt you. Will you forgive me?" You hadn't heard such a sincere tone from him since he rescued you at the lodging. Your uncertain gaze met his intense one and he sighed.

"What you said awhile back made me think. You said that your father showered me with gifts for saving you? He didn't."

"But…orabeoni said you got confections and a bunch of other stuff."

"That was from him and your mother. Your father had a different gift, but I told him I didn't want it. Not without you agreeing." What?

"Huh?" He smiled at the clear confusion all over your face, the sad look falling off.

"Your father offered you as a gift. As my wife. I said yes, but I wanted to court you first. I didn't do a great job though I guess." Minho sighed and you couldn't hold back then, tears spilling over your cheeks.

"(Y/N)?" He stood up straight and you stepped closer, and he gently cupped your cheek in his hand.

"You should have just said so, you stupid idiot." You hitched a sob with each word, and he smiled, letting out a small laugh.

"Yes. I should have."

~~~

It seemed, to Minho even more than you, the wedding couldn't have been soon enough. It was also hard to hide from your family just how clingy he was. If no one was around, his arms were around you at the very least. He had you sit in his lap while you did most things, his chin on your shoulder, watching you sew or read. More than just a few times he would be standing next to you or hugging you and his hand would sneak lower than he really should have put it. The first time he got a not-very-strong hit to his chest, and he just chuckled.

You were a bit sad to move out of your family home, but you and he were given your own separate house on his father's estate, so far on the edge of the land that it felt like your own. As you stood in your new bedroom, dressed only in your sokchima, flinching at every noise as if it was your… You giggled finally thinking of him as your husband, and you hopped a little with glee. Every noise though made you hope that it was him, returning from his own bath, but most of the time it was just an animal outside, or the wind making the window shutters creak slightly.

Finally, the door to the bedroom opened and he peaked his head in, a serious look on his face.

"Are you ready, (Y/N)? Because I'm running out of restraint." The sharp look in his eyes made you shiver, but you nodded anyway. As he stalked in, the door falling shut behind him, he tugged at the goreum of his sokjeogori, and time slowed down as it fell to the floor. Your eyes skated over the skin that he revealed, and you didn't have time to react, he scooped you up in his arms and easily carried you to the bed. He pinned you to the yo, raised onto a platform and you gasped as his lips sealed over yours. His hand snuck under your head, fingers weaving through your hair at the base of your braid, pressing you even closer to him.

His other hand wandered, snaking up your leg, pushing your sokchima up higher and higher. Feeling his hands on your bare skin made you shiver despite the heat he seemed to be setting. You panted when he finally pulled his tongue out of your mouth, licking his lips like a hungry dog. His eyes though reminded you of a cat on the hunt.

"How rough can I be?" Minho's lips brushed the skin of your neck as he spoke, then his mouth attached, and he sucked hard. You huffed at the feeling; mind not able to stay on track for very long.

"Huh?" You finally managed to get out, hands balled into fists over his shoulders, your pulse seeming to thud harder where he had sucked the skin nearly raw.

"I've been waiting to have you so long, sweetheart, that I just want to breed you like a bitch in heat." The vulgarity of his words shocked you, but it somehow fueled your arousal rather than offending you.

"I want to brand you as mine." He licked a path over your throat, ending at the hickey he had left under your ear. His blunt nails dug into the flesh of your upper thigh as he pulled it up to his waist, his hand sliding down to cup your rear.

"M-Minho-!" You couldn't help but throw your head back with an airy moan as he rolled his hips against yours, his hard cock pressing to your bare core through his pants.

"Tell me now, so I can slow down." You could hear the strain in his voice, his breathing was hard too.

"Don't." So, he didn't. He didn't hesitate either and you squeaked when he rolled you over underneath him, landing on your stomach. Instead of untying your sokchima like a civilized person, he tore the straps at the seams, then yanked the white garment from you and tossed it to the side, leaving you completely naked. Your skin immediately rose into goosebumps from the sudden chill, but the heat of his bare chest pressing to your back instantly took over.

"You're just perfect." He hummed, nearly laying completely on top of you, hard cock nestled in the crest of your butt. Minho's arm snuck under you, sliding up to nestle between your breasts, his hand gripping your jaw. You whimpered at the restraining feeling even though it was nowhere close to tight, and you felt his dick twitch at the noise. His free hand also snuck underneath you, holding himself up with pure core strength, only the elbow of the arm holding you supporting him. As his fingertips ran over your lower stomach you sighed, the muscles twitching at the stimulation. He hummed and you recognized the noise that he always made when he smirked, and your body jerked when his fingers finally met your cunt.

"So wet already, sweetheart." His nose nuzzled behind your ear, the hand at your jaw loosening even further but sliding down just a bit to cup your throat. Quickly, his index finger brushed over your clit, and you whined, and he chuckled, feeling the vibration at his palm.

"M-Minho…" Your head was swimming, and you let out a choking noise when he buried a finger into you.

"Don't worry sweetheart, I'll loosen your tight cunt enough to take my cock." While Minho wasn't always outstandingly proper with you, his crass words still surprised you some. They went straight to your core though, and he felt your gummy walls spasm around the single digit. Slowly, he pumped his finger till you relaxed, the slight sting from the entrance dissipating. You had never even used your own fingers and based off what you felt nestled into your backside, you did need to get prepped. Whether it was on purpose or not, when Minho finally added a second finger, his hand at your throat tightened just enough to put slight pressure on your windpipe. Your cunt spasmed again, harder, and your heart sped up as well, wondering why the sensation excited you so much.

"Oh?" He chuckled, speeding up his hand at your pussy, palm pressing to your throat a bit harder. His palm pressed at your clit and a strong pulse hit your core, and it was getting stronger and stronger.

"W-wait, Minho!" You gasped, having an idea that you were close even if you had never felt it. The intensity startled you a bit.

"Go ahead, (Y/N), fall apart." The hand at your throat pressed enough to make your vision swim and you keened out a moan as you came. He huffed at the squeeze on his fingers, but helped you ride the high out, kissing behind your ear as he did. When he unwrapped his arms from around you, you fell limp on the bedding, still trying to catch your breath. Swallowing a few times to ease the slight soreness of your throat, you heard him shuffle. You, however, had no time to look behind you at him before his hands were on your hips, pulling them up, forcing your butt up in the air.

"What are you-?"

"I said I wanted to breed you like a bitch in heat." Oh, he meant it literally. Unfortunately for you, he hadn't given you the chance to see him bare, because you were not prepared for when he brought the head of his cock to your entrance.

"Breathe, sweetheart." His hands wrapped around your waist, thumbs rubbing circles into the skin of your back, and you focused on measured breaths as the fat head of his dick finally started to press in. Stinging heat seared through you from your core out as he entered, and you couldn't tell what it felt like. Somehow it hurt like hell but also felt so good, so much so you thought you might pass out. You fisted the bedding below you, gasping for air as he slid in, the slick of your arousal aiding the entrance.

"Your cunt's hugging my cock so good~" Minho sighed, the noise turning into a groan as he buried even further. How much further would he go? The searing heat was so deep you wondered if he would stop anytime soon.

"Just a bit…" He chuckled when he finally bottomed out, the tip pressing snugly to the base of your womb. Tears had sprung to your eyes, your whole face felt hot, and you panted hard, trying to get used to the odd feeling. Yes, it hurt, but it felt so much better than you thought it would.

"Tell em when you're ready, my love." He leaned over you again, kissing your shoulder gently and petting your hair.

"Go." You answered almost immediately, and his soft touches halted.

"Love, are you sure?"

"Fuck, please!" You weren't sure why you needed him to start already, logic told you it would hurt, but you craved it. It felt so dirty to like the burn so much, but you couldn't help it.

"Yeah?"

"Please!" Your breath was forced from your lungs when he rolled his hips, pulling out halfway before snapping back into you, hard. He felt your core pulse around him, a rush of your arousal soaking his cock, and he grinned like a madman.

"So fucking perfect." He immediately began a brutal pace, but still held back some, only pulling out half before driving his cock back home, battering your womb.

"W-wait, oh! Ah! Fuck!" The same waves of pleasure were already cresting, so much stronger than before and Minho relished in feeling the clench of your gummy walls around his cock instead of his fingers.

"So good." He mumbled to himself, licking his lips and as you got closer…

"Fuck!" You squealed when his hand came down on your ass, leaving a red print on your skin and you came again. He gasped a laugh as your arousal drenched his cock and his groin, leaving a shining trail down both your thighs. Minho laughed at your whine of disapproval when he pulled out, but it turned to a gasp as he flipped you over. He threw one of your legs over his shoulder, ankle at his ear, holding the other to his side, and he filled you again. Your vision spotted from the stinging pleasure the overstimulation was causing you, but you focused on his gorgeous face. He had that cocky smirk on his face, sweat beading down from his forehead and you whimpered at the sight. With what little strength you had, you propped yourself up to see where he was splitting you open. Whether it was the sight or his next thrust, you fell back limp and fisted the sheets as he fucked you like a rabbit. His shallow movements were even harder than before, and your eyes rolled back, back arching as your next orgasm rose.

"Oh, what a good girl, cum for me, love." Minho took your hands in his, your legs barely wrapping around him to hold on. His fingers wove through yours, lips meeting once more as his pace stuttered. He must have felt your moan against his tongue as you came once more, the tight vice of your cunt spurred him over the edge as well. Your core burned even hotter as his cum filled you to the point where it spilled from you, mixing with your own. Your body went limp, and Minho hummed, kissing your forehead.

"I love you." He left little pecks all over your face and you giggled sleepily.

"I love you, too. I'm glad you saved me that day."

"No, (Y/N), I think you saved me."

Sseugaechima - this is the extra-skirt looking garment women would wear over their heads. Gat - this is the hat that noblemen would wear, more specifically the ones that were black and made of mesh. Orabeoni - more archaic/historical word for older brother to a girl. Hanbok - traditional/historical clothing, most people think of women's dresses, but men's clothes were called this as well. Daenggi - the ribbon that was tied around a unmarried girl's braid. Baduk - Korean word for the Chinese game of Go. Podocheong - essentially the Joseon era police. Bujang - a Lieutenant-level position in the Podocheong. Jeonbok - kind of like a long vest worn over a hanbok. Hyungnim - a more commonly used term historically for a man to an older brother or friend. Eunjangdo - a silver dagger that many women wore as an accessory, mostly nobles. Sokchima - basically a dress/skirt like under-garment. Goreum - the ties that fastened the top of a hanbok. Sokjeogori - a shirt worn as an undergarment. Yo - a Korean floor mattress.

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Taglist: @huldrelokken, @estella-novella, @astrobebba, @kayleefriedchicken, @minghaosimp

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fkinkindagauche · 3 days

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Slutty Little Mouse

For @steddiesmuttyseptember week 3 prompt "sneaking around".

Rating: Explicit | WC: 1376 | CW: none | Tags: blow jobs, gags

Steve was trying so hard to fall asleep. He’d gone through his nightly routine, which had become something like a religious ritual at this point - turn off the TV by 9pm, wash his face and brush his teeth, go through a series of stretches and calisthenics, then sit quietly in his room for an hour reading before climbing into bed and shutting his eyes. Some nights it worked. Most nights it didn’t.

He had tried to keep his eyes shut, forcing himself into sleep, but at some point he had opened them and was now staring at the ceiling, thinking. You’d think that he would be reliving memories of torture at the hands of Russians or horrible extradimensional monsters, but he wasn’t. He was thinking about how his life had effectively stalled - a 20 year old still living with his parents, working at Family Video with no immediate plans to branch out beyond that.

He sighed, shifting from his back to his side, barely muffling a scream when he saw a figure looming in his window. The figure tapped a few times, and Steve gradually made out the wild hair and excited smile of Eddie Munson.

Steve scrambled out of his bed and over to the window, pulling it open. Eddie was standing precariously on the roof of the Harringtons’ garage.

“What are you doing here?” Steve hissed. “My parents are, like, right down the hall!”

Eddie grabbed Steve’s face in his hands and planted a wet kiss on his lips. “Came to keep you company,” he said, too loudly, and Steve shushed him while blushing.

“Sorry,” Eddie whispered, looking not sorry at all.

“How’d you know I wouldn’t be asleep?”

Eddie gave him a disappointed look, like Steve was being deliberately obtuse. “You can never sleep, Stevie.”

Steve huffed, and looked past Eddie at the street below.

“Get inside, someone’s gonna see you,” he said, yanking on Eddie’s arm. Eddie spilled in through the window, making more noise than Steve would have liked.

“How’d you even get up on the roof?” Steve whispered once Eddie had righted himself.

“Climbed the trash cans. I’m very athletic.”

Steve snorted. “I can’t believe you didn’t knock them over and wake up the whole neighborhood.”

Eddie put a hand to his chest in mock affront. “Baby, you wound me.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I don’t know why you came over,” he whispered. “We can barely even talk with my parents right there.”

“We don’t need to talk,” Eddie said, wiggling his eyebrows, and letting his eyes rake down Steve’s body. Steve was in only his boxers, chest bare.

“We definitely can’t do anything else,” Steve replied.

“You know what always makes you fall asleep?”

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. He could see where this was going, but decided to play along. “No, Eddie, what?”

Eddie stepped toward him, getting in his space.

"When I blow you and then we cuddle."

"I think I’m constitutionally incapable of letting you blow me with my parents right down the hall. You know how loud I am," Steve said, pleading.

"I do know," Eddie said, stepping closer to Steve. "And I love it. Every single sound I wring out of you should win a fucking Grammy. But I'm sure you can be quiet."

Steve leaned into Eddie's warmth, chronically touch-starved. "I'm not sure I can be quiet."

Eddie reached for his back pocket, pulling out his black bandana. "We could keep you quiet," he suggested, and Steve shivered, feeling his cock start to fill out. The idea of being gagged by Eddie was more arousing than he would have anticipated.

“So you came over here just to blow me to sleep?” Steve asked, trying to shift the focus away from his reaction to the gag.

“Yes, absolutely,” Eddie replied. “You need your beauty sleep.”

Steve was a weak man. He turned and walked back over to his bed. It was a twin, and not really big enough for two adult men, but he and Eddie liked to latch onto each other like two demented starfish so space wasn’t much of an issue.

“Take off your jacket and jeans,” Steve said.

Eddie saluted him. “Yes, sir.” He peeled off his jeans and threw his jacket onto the floor, following Steve over to the bed. Steve got under the covers and held them up for Eddie to follow.

Eddie got under the covers, putting the bandana on the bedside table, and instantly moved into Steve’s space, draping his whole body over Steve’s and shoving his face into Steve’s neck to kiss him there.

Steve laughed and tried to push him away. “That tickles,” he whispered, trying not to laugh too loudly. Eddie pushed himself up on his elbows and smiled down at Steve, putting those mind-altering dimples on full display. Steve leaned forward to kiss him, and Eddie reciprocated, pushing Steve back down onto the bed. He licked at Steve’s lips and Steve happily opened them, tangling his tongue with Eddie’s.

Eddie pressed his hips down into Steve and Steve could feel his hard cock pressed against his thigh. He let out a breathy little moan as Eddie slid a thigh in between his legs, pressing it up into Steve’s cock.

“You gonna need the gag already, baby?” Eddie asked, smirking, and Steve moaned again at the thought of the gag. “Oh, you like that,” Eddie said, delighted. He reached over to the bedside table and picked up the bandana. “Open up?” Eddie stuffed the bandana in his mouth roughly, and Steve bucked his hips up into Eddie’s thigh.

“Good boy,” Eddie said, kissing Steve’s cheek. Steve tried to moan at the praise, but it was thankfully muffled now. “That’s better,” Eddie said. “Quiet as a slutty little mouse.” Steve rolled his eyes.

Eddie started to kiss down his body, spending a few minutes licking and sucking over his pecs and nipples, which always made Steve outrageously horny. Eddie eventually kept moving south, trailing kisses over Steve’s abdomen. When he got to the waistband of Steve’s boxers he pulled them down, freeing Steve’s cock.

Eddie pressed a kiss onto the head of his cock, sticking his tongue out to lick up the precum at his slit, then moving away to kiss his inner thighs. Steve let out a muffled whine and shifted his hips. Eddie took pity on him and moved back to Steve’s cock, sucking the head into his mouth.

He played with the head of Steve’s cock for a few moments, running his tongue around the glans, sucking lightly, before moving his mouth further down his shaft. He took Steve in most of the way, his hand holding the base of Steve’s cock, and started to bob his head gently up and down. Steve was moaning with abandon now, very glad to have the bandana in his mouth muffling all the noise.

Eddie moved his hand away and took Steve into his throat, swallowing against his gag reflex to fit Steve all the way. Steve started to thrust up into Eddie’s mouth in time with Eddie’s movements, and felt his orgasm start to build. Eddie could feel it, too, pulling off of Steve for a moment to look up and say, “Come in my mouth, baby.”

That was all it took; the moment Eddie got Steve back in his mouth he was coming, his normally loud cries muffled behind the bandana. Eddie swallowed all of his cum, gently working Steve’s dick with his hand until he was spent.

He moved up Steve’s body and reached out to pull the bandana from Steve’s mouth. “Sleepy now, darling?” Eddie asked.

Steve nodded, then noticed Eddie’s cock still hard against his thigh. “What ‘bout you?” he asked, voice already heavy with oncoming sleep. Eddie shifted off of Steve, laying on his side and wrapping an arm around his waist. “I’m fine. You just go to sleep,” Eddie said, kissing Steve’s temple.

If Steve hadn’t been so exhausted, he would have put up a fight, but he could finally feel himself starting to sink into blissful darkness. He turned over onto his side with his back against Eddie’s chest, letting Eddie spoon him.

“Love you, Eds,” he said sleepily.

“Love you, too, mouse,” Eddie replied, and Steve drifted off to sleep.

#steddie #steddie fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #stranger things #steddie fanfiction #my fics

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copper-16 · 3 days

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Chapter 8 has been posted - but before everyone goes to read, a little bit of an announcement on my end:

This is going to be my last longer Mapi/Ingrid story, and probably the end of me being super active/posting on ao3 and tumblr. I might write the occasional story here and there, but writing is not bringing me the same joy it once was and I want to dedicate my time to other things. I’ll still be around reading on ao3 and somewhat on Tumblr, but I just won’t be posting a whole ton on either. I’ve been so incredibly lucky to get to know all of you guys on here, and to receive so much love for my work. It means the absolute world to me - and thank you all so much for welcoming me into this little community so wonderfully! I hope the stories I wrote were able to bring just a little bit of happiness when you guys needed it (even if I constantly left everyone on cliffhangers - I truly am sorry about that).

The rest of this is long, and you don't have to read it if you don't want to, you can just go ahead to the story now if you would like. I'm not known for my ability to keep concise, that is for certain. If brevity is the soul of wit - perhaps we know why my stories aren't very funny!

I’ve especially enjoyed joining tumblr and really finding a little community here. Getting to interact with so many people, both those who read my works and those who don’t, has been such a joy for me. I love getting to hear when people like the things I've written, even if it touches them in a small way. I love getting to interact with so many brilliant minds and am forever in awe of how much amazing talent there is in this little corner of the internet! I've made some incredible friends from getting to be on here, and it makes me so happy to have a little community of people I love. Thank you guys for letting me have space here even if I don’t write reader works or know how this app works most of the time.

I started writing seriously in September 2022 and I can't tell you how much joy it has brought me in the last two years. As someone who doesn't enjoy the college degree they are currently getting, this was such a fun creative outlet for me. It was so cool to have this blank canvas to work with, to weave things together, especially as I began to write longer stories. Writing was a place to destress for me and interact with other people who loved football as I was coming to love it. Every single kudos, comment, and bookmark meant so much to me. Even when it was something silly like someone dubbing the 'Copper Monologue,' it made me feel so seen. Someone cared enough to read enough of my works to pick out the fact that I do that? Absolutely mind blowing to me. It's crazy to hear that people cared about the silly little stories I wrote. When someone told me that I was one of the things to help inspire them to write their own stuff - I think I properly sobbed. It meant more to me than anything has in this entire world, and it still does! Writing has helped me to process, it's helped me to grow, it's helped me learn to identify my emotions and struggles and think through my own thought processes. I hope that maybe for someone out there, it could help them do that as well. It's a little strange for me not to want to do that anymore. Writing this last story solidified to me that for the most part it was time to be done, and HDITA was more of a goodbye than anything else. But even with that, it feels strange not to be thinking of my next idea, thinking of how I am going to create characters and relationships and plot lines.

I think for me right now, I'm just excited to be myself. Maybe this vessel of writing was what I needed to get myself through the last two years. I wrote la princesa when I was at my absolute worst in life, and as I've grown and matured as a person, I like to think that my writing has. I no longer find myself in a place where it fills a huge void in my own life that I once needed.

I've grown a lot as a writer these few years (those who read my earlier works will understand), and I'm excited to one day come back to it, maybe in a different sphere. I love the idea now of writing a real book. It always terrified me before - I didn't know where I would start or if I would be horrible at it. But you all have given me the confidence that maybe at least one person would like it, and maybe that's enough of a reason to try. So thank you all for holding my hand and encouraging me. I hope that if nothing else, everyone remembers that a little bit of kindness on here or ao3 or anywhere on the internet costs nothing, and yet can go a long way.

It did for me.

But enough of my sappy rambling, please enjoy this last chapter of mine. I hope it brings you as much joy as it brought me when I was writing it. Love you all so so much!

Chapter 8 of How Do I Trust Again?

#from the bottom of my heart #thank you

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lilacmingi · 1 day

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DR. FACILIER (DISNEY VILLAINS AU)

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works. And please don’t spam-like!

Pairing: Dr. Facilier!Mingi x fem!reader

Word count: 8,130

Note: I was rereading over this while drafting it here from my Wattpad and I totally forgot how much I loved it 😫

The sound of the front door being slammed shut echoed throughout your home, followed by the sound of keys being dropped into the glass bowl kept in the foyer.

"You're not gonna believe what just happened." Your brother, Wooyoung, hissed angrily as he stormed into the living room.

"What?" You asked, rolling your eyes.

"I went to that voodoo guy and he screwed me over."

"You what?" You sat upright, giving him a sharp glare. "You know those people are quacks."

"I was curious." He defended.

"What exactly did this guy do?"

"He did some card reading to predict my future and it was horrible."

"I don't see what the problem is. You paid to have your future told."

"He was all upbeat and excited saying that he saw a bright future for me and then when I paid him and pulled cards, he told me I was gonna lose all my money and die alone."

"Seems pretty accurate to me."

"Hey!" He huffed, slapping your arm.

"It's the truth! You lost money on that reading."

"Don't you get it? He made me think I was gonna get a good reading and I didn't. I was tricked."

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"I don't know. Something."

"No."

"Do something, Y/n." He whined, shoving your shoulder.

"Cut it out."

"Not until you do something."

"You can take care of it yourself. If you're not satisfied, go talk to the guy."

"If I go back, he'll recognize me. Plus, he has a sign up that says no refunds."

You stared up at the purple and green sign that read: Dr. Song's Voodoo Emporium. There were two torches up on either side of the sign, casting an orange glow on the letters.

You didn't even know why you were there. Maybe you did care that Wooyoung got scammed or maybe you knew he wouldn't quit complaining about losing money if you didn't do something.

"It's now or never." You muttered to yourself before pulling open the creaky door and stepping inside.

"Welcome." A deep and somewhat husky voice greeted you from somewhere in the shadows. "You know, I always say fate brings people into my little shop."

Suddenly, the room was illuminated by many candles and lanterns, all being set aflame on their own and all at once. Stepping out from the dark shadows was a tall, slim man with silvery hair pushed away from his face. He donned an outfit consisting of a vest, an animal print suit jacket, dark trousers, and boots. In his hand was a cane with a gold skull on the end.

"So, darling, do you think fate brought you here?" He asked, extending his hand to you.

"I think you ripping off my brother brought me here." You answered.

He retracted his hand, his strong brows tugging together. "What ever do you mean?"

"You scammed my brother."

"I don't know your brother." He stated.

"You told him you saw a bright future for him and when he got a card reading, you told him he would lose all his money and die alone."

"Sorry to inform you, but I can't control that."

"Yeah, right."

"I swear. It's not me. It's the cards."

"The cards?" You scoffed. "Please."

"It's true. I don't decide people's futures."

"I knew it. You're just a scam artist." You hissed, stalking towards the exit.

"Woah, woah, woah, woah!" The man hurried to stand in front of the door, his hands up as he tried to stop you from leaving.

You sighed, crossing your arms as you waited to hear what he had to say.

"I'm a man who likes to make bargains. So, how about this? I give your brother another reading for free if you let me give you a reading right now."

"You scammed my brother and you think I want a reading from you? No thanks. I'm not interested in your tricks."

"No tricks."

"You're lying. I know how con men like you work."

"Fine. I guess you don't want to help your brother."

"You know that's not true."

"Oh, but it is. If you really wanted to help your brother, you would take this simple deal."

"Why do you want to give me a reading so badly?"

"Can I not give a pretty lady a free reading?"

Your eyes narrowed. "If I do this, you'll give my brother another reading?"

"Of course." He grinned, extending his hand. "What do you say?"

"Fine." You give in, shaking his hand.

"Wonderful." He smiled, gesturing to a round table in the middle of the room. "Have a seat."

I can't believe I'm doing this. You thought to yourself.

"I don't want any funny business, Dr. Song."

"Please, call me Mingi. And I can assure you, no funny business."

In a flash, a deck of tarot cards appeared in his hands. He shuffled through them before fanning them out across the table, three of them sticking out from the rest.

"Oh." Mingi gasped. "It seems fate has already picked for you."

That's weird.

You didn't even see him touch the cards. They just moved on their own.

Mingi flipped the cards over, humming to himself. "Interesting."

"What?" You inquired, leaning forward to get a look at the cards.

"You're lonely, aren't you?"

"Excuse me?"

"You're lonely." He looked up at you, his dark irises boring into yours.

"No. I'm not."

The corner of Mingi's mouth twitched as a breathy chuckle left him. "You are."

"I'm not. I'm content."

"Are you?"

"I..." You trailed off, swallowing.

Were you lonely? You didn't feel lonely. Not all the time, anyway.

"You've never been one for relationships, have you?" Mingi inquired, tapping on the first card.

"How do you know that?"

"I know all. Past, present, and even the future. And it seems to me that you've always been hesitant of getting into relationships. You say you're content now and, while that may be true, you're unhappy." He tapped on the second card, most likely indicating the present.

"I'm not unhappy." You denied.

"Deep down, you are. I see it clear as day." His sharp eyes stayed focused on you.

You didn't like the way he was looking at you. It felt like he was staring right into your soul, reading your every emotion.

"Let's see your future, shall we?"

He glanced down at the third card, his brows raising in fascination .

"Seems like you're going to find love in an unexpected place." Mingi's head tilted, a strand of silvery hair falling over his forehead. "A very unexpected place."

You blinked a few times, waiting for him to continue. "And?"

"That's all."

"What?"

"That's it."

"What will he look like? Where will I meet him? How long will it be until I meet him?"

"I don't know."

"But you said you could see the past, present, and future."

"To a certain extent. I don't know all the details."

You pressed your lips together, feeling slightly peeved. To your disappointment, you couldn't exactly be mad at him. The reading wasn't a bad one, it just wasn't as detailed as you'd hoped. Part of you wanted to hear more, but the other part wanted to leave that place as quickly as possible.

"You seem rather interested for a person who thinks I'm a scam artist." Mingi smirked.

You immediately backpedaled. "I'm not interested. I just expected more detail."

"That's not how my readings work. In fact, that's not how any readings work. You don't always get what you want."

"Well, I let you give me a reading, so a deal's a deal. You give my brother another reading for free. No tricks."

"Of course." He placed one hand over his chest and raised the other. "I assure you, I'm a man of my word."

"We'll see about that." You turned on your heel, ready to leave the establishment.

"Wait. I never got your name."

"You don't need it."

You reached for the doorknob only to have the lock turned by some strange shadow that resembled Mingi. The sight was unsettling and caused you to step away from the entrance.

You glared over your shoulder at Dr. Song.

"Unlock it."

"I'd like your name first."

"It's Y/n."

The door unlocked in an instant.

"That wasn't so hard, now was it?"

You abruptly pulled the door open, ready to leave. You had only taken one step outside when Mingi called out for you again.

"One more thing."

You huffed out a sigh of annoyance as you turned towards the fortune teller.

"Here's my card." He held a small business card between his middle and index finger, offering it to you. "In case you ever need me."

You took the card from him, knowing you'd never use it.

"I'll see you around, my dear." He waved as he watched you leave the shop.

"I get another reading?" Wooyoung asked.

"Yes. No charge."

"Will it be a good one?" He questioned, skeptically.

"He didn't say."

"What if I get a bad reading again?" He whined.

"You should just be thankful he offered you another for free."

"You're right. Thanks for going down there."

"You're welcome."

"So, should we go down there tomorrow?"

"We? No, no, no, no. There is no we. You're going down there alone. I'm not going back there." You denied.

"Why not?"

"He's annoying."

"That's not a valid excuse."

"I don't see why I have to accompany you."

"What if he tries something? Any tricks, I mean."

"He promised no tricks."

"I still want you to come with me."

And that's how you ended up back at Dr. Song's Voodoo Emporium... again.

"I don't wanna do this." You groaned.

"It won't be that bad. We'll be in and out in no time." Wooyoung assured you.

You highly doubted that.

Your annoyingly optimistic brother stepped inside, pulling you with him.

The shop was lit up better than the previous day, allowing you to see all the strange doodads inside: jars lined up on driftwood shelves, bottles of of every shape and size filled with multicolored liquids, books with foreign symbols on the spines, even animal skulls.

"Well, look who's wandered back into my shop."

You rolled your eyes as Mingi stepped from the shadows, making yet another dramatic entrance.

"It wasn't by choice." You stated.

"I'm here for my free reading." Wooyoung spoke up, stupidly unaware of the tension between you and Mingi.

"Ah, yes. Wooyoung, right?"

Your brother nodded.

"Come. Have a seat. Since your last reading for the future was bad, I'll give you a redo for it."

"Sounds good."

You stood off to the side, giving the two some space. From there, you watched Mingi, making sure he didn't pull any tricks.

He pulled out his deck of tarot cards, shuffling them around before presenting them to Wooyoung.

"Pick three cards and we'll see what your future holds."

Your brother's hand hovered over the cards laid out across the tabletop until he selected his first card, then the second, then the third. Each selection was made carefully, as he didn't want to get another bad reading.

"Alright. Let's see what we have here." Mingi hummed, flipping over the first card.

"Oh. This one is good. It means that you'll have some luck."

Mingi then flipped over the second card.

"Mhm." He hummed, with a nod. "This one could mean that there will be a rough patch for you at some point."

Wooyoung frowned.

Mingi flipped over the last card, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Well, it seems that you'll get through that rough patch and be content in where you are in life."

"Really?" Wooyoung asked.

Mingi nodded.

"What about getting rich? You mentioned that last time before you got me to pay for a reading."

"Ah. Well, I can make that happen for you if you still want it."

Your brows furrowed as you watched their exchange, feeling unsettled by Mingi's words, as well as his shifty behavior.

"Yes!" Your brother answered, enthusiastically. "Is that even possible?"

"Of course it is, Wooyoung. I have friends on the other side that can help me to change your future around."

"Woah. Seriously?"

"Of course. I can make your dreams come true. What do you say?" Mingi extended his hand out towards Wooyoung.

As your brother reached towards Mingi's hand, you saw that shadow from the day before reaching towards Wooyoung. Sensing that something wasn't right, you jumped into action, lunging forward and pulling your naive brother's hand away.

"Don't!"

Wooyoung looked at you with wide eyes and an expression that said, 'What's wrong with you?'

"Are you insane?!" You shrieked.

"No. I'd say I'm the complete opposite actually. I'm about to be rich!"

"No you're not, you idiot. He's trying to trick you. Are you not even the slightest bit worried by these so-called 'friends from the other side'? There could be some serious repercussions to this."

"Uh..." He trailed off.

"Are you seriously going to trust the guy who scammed you?"

His jaw dropped in realization.

"You!" He pointed at Mingi. "You we're trying to trick me again."

"You almost fell for it." He muttered under his breath.

"Unbelievable." You scoffed. "We're leaving."

Wooyoung stood up and the two of you started to walk out.

"Don't be like that." Mingi called out.

"Look, my brother got his free reading and that's that. We're done here."

You didn't allow him any more time to speak as you and Wooyoung left the shop, slamming the door behind you.

"Now do you see why I wanted you to come with me?" Wooyoung asked once the two of you were outside.

"I do. I'm glad I was there, but that doesn't mean I wanted to be."

"You're right. He's a total scam artist."

"I know. Good news is, we won't have to deal with him ever again. You got your free reading, so everything is settled."

Wooyoung gave a nod of finality as the two of you walked away.

You scanned the shelves for any snacks that caught your eye. Wooyoung was in "desperate" need of honey butter chips and annoyed you into going to the convenience store. You figured since you were going out of your way to get his snacks, you might as well get something for yourself.

"Well, would you look at that."

Your brows furrowed at the familiar voice. Turning your head, you spotted someone you didn't expect to see.

Mingi stood at the end of the aisle with one hand resting on his cane and a shopping basket over his other arm, a smug grin on his face.

"You've gotta be kidding me." You muttered.

"What was that?" He asked, walking over.

"Why are you here?" You questioned, ignoring him.

"What does it look like?"

"Stalking."

He chuckled. "Just because we happen to be at the same place at the same time doesn't mean I'm stalking you. You know what I call it?"

"What?"

"Fate."

"Well, I call it annoying." You remarked, walking away.

"Ouch." Mingi hissed. "Those are harsh words."

"Good. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have shopping to do."

You left the aisle you were in, not wanting to share the same area with that fraud. You relocated to a different aisle, perusing the snacks there, picking up a couple things. To your disappointment, Mingi had followed you.

"Why are you avoiding me?"

"Because I have no interest in speaking to you. Nor do I have a reason to speak to you."

"That's a shame."

"Yeah. A real shame." You remarked sarcastically.

You tried, yet again, to get away from him, but to no avail. No matter where you went, he followed.

"Why don't you tell me about yourself? Do you have any hobbies?" He inquired.

"Is that your way of flirting? If so, you're doing a terrible job."

He had that same shameless smirk on his face, letting you know that he didn't care that he was annoying you to no end. You already have Wooyoung harassing you at home, you didn't need another one.

"Come on. I wanna know more about you, darling."

"Don't call me that."

"Why?" He asked, leaning over your shoulder. "Does it make your heart race? Hm?"

"No, it makes me want to throw up."

"You are merciless." Chuckled Mingi. "Don't worry, though. I'm a very persuasive man. I'm sure I could get you to change your tune."

Your patience was wearing thin. You didn't know how much more you could take. This man's incessant questions and flirty remarks were beginning to drive you to madness.

"Look," You started, placing a bag of snacks into your basket. "I'm not interested, okay? Nothing you say and nothing you do will change my mind, got it?"

Mingi's brows raised at your harsh words, but you could see that he wasn't affected by them. In fact, he actually had the audacity to smirk.

"We'll see about that."

Weeks passed and every time you left the house, you ran into Mingi. It didn't matter where you went, he was always there. He had somehow found a way to be exactly where you were every single time—and it was annoying.

Mingi's shadow slipped underneath the front door of his shop, slinking across the walls until it got to the office located in the back.

"Ah. There you are." Mingi greeted. "What have you found out?"

His shadow moved close to him, leaning in, telling him something in a hushed voice.

"What's that?" Mingi asked, leaning closer so he could hear better.

His shadow whispered in his ear, a smirk tugging at Mingi's lips as he listened to the information his shadow provided him.

"Ah. So, she's going to an art festival? Perhaps I'll pay her a visit."

You walked along the sidewalk, browsing the tents set up on the street. There were many different artists selling a wide variety of wares. From uniquely-shaped vases to colorful works of art—they had it all. You enjoyed going places alone every once in a while, so when you heard about a nearby art festival, you knew you had to check it out.

Your fingers ran over a canvas painting, feeling the texture of the pigment. Bright colors were spread across the surface, layered and mixed to make different hues and shadows in the artwork.

"This is a really nice painting." You told the vendor. "How long did it take you?"

"Around 48 hours."

"Woah. That's a lot of work."

"It is." The vendor nodded. "But, I enjoy it, so I don't even realize how much time passes."

You smiled softly.

You loved hearing about the interests and hobbies of others, especially how they enjoy it so much it doesn't feel like work or that they get so immersed in it that they lose track of time.

"Fate just keeps bringing us together."

The soft smile on your face fell immediately.

That better not be who I think it is.

You slowly turned towards Mingi who stood behind you, propped on his cane that he constantly carried with him.

Every time you saw him, he was wearing some sort of vest and jacket, each one with a different pattern or color. Today was no different, except that there were round glasses perched on his nose. You had to admit, the spectacles made him appear softer in a way.

You paused.

The mere thought that Mingi looked softer put you back in your place. You quickly reminded yourself that this man was a scam artist (and a stalker, apparently) and shook away any thoughts about him being remotely soft, pushing them away to the deepest corners of your mind, hoping they wouldn't resurface.

You told the vendor goodbye and wished them luck on their sales before approaching Mingi, your expression cold and void of any emotion except anger and annoyance.

"If you don't quit stalking me, I'm going to call the cops."

"The cops? I'd like to see them try and do something." He chuckled.

"Why can't you just leave me alone? I only visited your measly little shop to right a wrong for my brother. The deal is done. I have no business with you any more, so I don't know why you keep following me around."

Mingi tilted his head to the side, an amused expression plastered on his face.

"What do you want from me?" You asked flat-out, not cutting any corners.

"I want you, Y/n."

You weren't expecting that answer at all. You tried to cover up the fact that you were caught off guard, responding in a cold voice.

"You can't have me."

"Is that a challenge?" He raised a brow.

"No. It's a statement."

You turned on your heel, leaving him standing on the sidewalk. You didn't care that you had ditched him. After all, he's the one who encroached on your day out.

A nearby tent caught your attention. The vendor had many intricate wood carvings on display. They were so beautiful that you stopped for a moment to admire them, complimenting the man on his incredible handiwork. You chatted with him for a moment, asking how he makes such complex creations. You ended up purchasing a small keychain with a carving of a skull hanging from it.

You continued down the street, taking a few moments to check out anything that caught your eye. One of those items was a medium-sized canvas with multicolored neon shapes painted on the surface. The background was black, making the vibrant hues stand out. You loved it and you had to have it.

Greeting the woman running the booth, you immediately picked up the canvas, mentioning how much you loved it. After glancing at the price, you decided you would purchase it. You looked down only for a moment, digging through your wallet to retrieve some cash for the lady. You had just counted out the money when a hand extended past you, neatly folded bills held between two slender, ring-clad fingers.

"I got it covered."

The lady took the money, thanking the person. You turned to see Mingi behind you, his tall form leaned over you slightly. You had to keep it together long enough for the vendor to hand you the canvas which had been placed in a plastic shopping bag. You gave her a friendly smile and wished her luck on the rest of her sales before walking away so she wouldn't hear you scream at Mingi.

As much as you wanted to think he bought that for you out of the kindness of his heart, you knew he didn't. He had something up his sleeve.

"Aren't you gonna thank me?" Mingi asked before you had the chance to say anything to him.

"No."

"Ah. Well, I suppose that's fine. However, you do owe me."

"I beg your pardon?" You asked, stopping in your tracks.

"You owe me." He repeated.

"I don't owe you anything."

"Oh, but you do. I just paid for that painting."

"That was your choice. I had nothing to do with it."

"You still owe me."

"You know what?" You muttered, digging through your wallet. You pulled out enough money to cover the cost of the painting, shoving the cash into his chest. He stumbled a bit, placing his hand over the money to keep it from falling.

"I paid you back. We're square now." You told him.

"Did you?" He raised a brow.

You narrowed your eyes at him as he showed you an empty hand. You looked in your wallet, then began patting down your pockets, reaching into one of them, pulling out the wad of cash you'd just given to Mingi.

"Wh-what? How did you—"

"Like I said, you owe me."

"You... you..." Trailing off, you tried to find the right words to describe the man in front of you. "You snake!"

He seemed unfazed by the attempted insult.

"Whatever it is you're wanting me to do, I won't do it." You snapped.

"Spend the day with me." He told you.

"You really think I want to spend the day watching you scam people? No thanks."

"Would you rather do something else? I'm sure I could think of other ways for you to make it up to me." He told you, his eyes looking you up and down.

Your mouth fell open. "You sicko."

"That's not what I meant." He huffed. "Look, I just want you to spend the day with me, that's all. Come hang out at my shop with me."

"I'm not interested." You told him, sternly.

"Excuse me, young lady." Someone called out, catching your attention.

You turned towards the voice to see where it was coming from. A man in a black coat wearing many odd necklaces made of bone stepped out into the street.

"Me?" You pointed to yourself.

"Yes."

"What is it?" You inquired, stepping towards the man's tent, noticing all the unique and odd jewelry he sold.

"You are quite a stunning young woman."

"Oh. Thank you." You responded, thrown off by the strange and sudden compliment.

"I think you'd look lovely wearing this necklace." He grabbed a black velvet box from behind the table, opening it up to show you the product.

The chain was silver and on the end was a unique pendant, one that you'd never seen before. An iridescent stone was encased in intricate, silver designs. The gemstone is what really caught your attention. It changed colors in the light, looking purple from one direction, then a green-ish teal color from the other. But, if you looked at it straight on, it was a mix of colors—it was enchanting.

"It's beautiful." You commented.

"I made it myself." The man told you, removing it from the box. "Go on. Have a look. You can try it on if you'd like."

You stepped forward, your hand reaching for the necklace. Just then, Mingi's hand shot out, grabbing onto your wrist before you could even touch the pendant. You turned to him with a questioning look on your face.

"Sorry, but we're not interested." He told the man in a stern tone, his voice dangerously low.

The vendor gave Mingi a hard glare as you were dragged away.

"What was that about?" You asked once the man was out of earshot.

"There was a bad energy surrounding that necklace." Mingi responded, his face solemn. "It's probably cursed."

"Cursed? Why would someone try to sell me a cursed necklace?"

"There are dangerous people in the world who love meddling with the lives of others."

"Isn't that what you do?"

"No. I help people. Sometimes I have sneaky ways of doing it, but it's nothing like what that man does."

"You both trick people. I don't see the difference." You stated.

"That may be true, but at least I don't try and sell people cursed items."

You were about to tease him for admitting that he indeed scams people, but you knew all along, so there was no need to joke about it.

You did feel a little touched by the fact that he stopped you from getting a malediction from a cursed necklace. You honestly didn't think he had it in him.

"I'll spend the day with you." You spoke up.

"What?" Mingi turned to you, his normally sharp and narrow eyes now wide in surprise, glimmering with hope.

You had to stop yourself from fawning over how insanely adorable his eyes were.

You cleared your throat before repeating yourself. "I'll spend the day with you."

"Really? What made you change your mind?"

"You just saved me from catching a curse. I guess I owe you for that."

The very next day you found yourself standing in Mingi's voodoo shop again, this time on your own volition. You walked around the room, getting a good look at everything inside. If you were going to be there all day, you might as well make the most of it.

He had all sorts of strange knickknacks, trinkets, and novelties. One of those being lucky rabbit foot keychains. You figure that was typical for a voodoo shop. On the driftwood shelf, besides all the strange liquid-filled bottles, there appeared to be elixirs and bath salts, some promising good luck, while others just promised a boost of energy. In a basket under a wall of ominous-looking masks were dozens of voodoo dolls.

"Do people actually use these?" You asked.

"They sure do, my dear." Mingi answered.

"Seriously?" You turned towards him. "Do they work?"

"Would you like to test one and find out?"

You recoiled your hand, not liking how confident his tone was. "No thanks."

"Very well. The offer is still on the table if you change your mind." He hummed, straightening his jacket and smoothing his hair out.

The door to the shop opened, catching your attention. A customer stepped inside, looking around the small building.

"Ah. Welcome." Mingi greeted. "Is there anything I can help you with on this fine morning?"

"I was told you do card readings." The young man spoke.

"I do indeed. Have a seat."

You watched as Mingi's shadow moved across the floor, pulling the chair out for the customer. Every time you saw his shadow move, you got a shiver down your spine. Something wasn’t right. It may be Mingi's shadow, but it seems to have a mind of its own and is beyond his control.

"Am I interrupting something?" The man asked, noticing your presence.

"No. She's just watching me work, that's all." Mingi brushed it off. "So, what would you like to know? Your future? Or maybe there's a certain someone you have your eye on and you want to see if you'll win them over. Hm?" He raised a curious brow.

"Y-yes! How'd you know that?" The man questioned.

"I know everything. I can see right into your heart and soul." He responded, shuffling his tarot cards.

"Wow."

Mingi then began the card reading, holding them out to the customer. He selected his cards and Mingi begin interpreting each one. He shook his head, making a tsk sound.

"Seems like you won't ever get with this girl."

"What?" The man frowned.

"Yes. The cards are telling me that she'll find someone else."

You crossed your arms, upset by the man's reading.

"Aw. Don't look so down." Mingi cooed, placing the end of his cane under the man's chin, using it to lift the his head. "I have something that'll help win her heart."

"Really?" The man's face lit up instantly.

"Of course." Mingi stood from his chair, striding over to a cabinet. He retrieved a small box, carrying it over to the table. He open it up revealing a beautiful necklace with a heart- shaped charm.

"That's beautiful."

"It's powerful too."

"What?"

"The necklace is charmed. If you put it on her, she'll fall in love with you."

"For real?"

Mingi nodded.

"Hm." The man hummed. "Do you have anything else?"

Mingi seemed disappointed, but turned up the charm, smiling brightly. "Of course."

He strode over to the shelf of bottles, retrieving one of them. "How about a love potion?"

You rolled your eyes.

Yeah, right.

"A love potion?" The customer parroted.

"Yes. If you give her some of this, she'll fall for you instantly."

"Really? How do you know?"

"I got it from my friends on the other side. They can make all sorts of magic potions."

"Woah."

Friends on the other side?

He's said that before. As far as you know, you've only seen his shadow, so who are these friends of his?

"How much?" The man asked, pulling you from your thoughts.

You cleared your throat, grabbing Mingi's attention. You stared at him intently, shaking your head no, silently telling him not to trick that man.

"Excuse me a moment." Mingi walked over to you, making sure you were both far enough from the man that he wouldn't hear.

"What are you doing?" You whispered harshly.

"Business." He responded, plainly.

"No you're not. You're scamming. What's the truth behind that necklace? And that so-called love potion?"

"Well, they both really do work. If he uses the love potion, he has to be the first person she sees. The necklace only works when she's wearing it. And as soon as the necklace is clasped around her neck, her soul immediately belongs to my friends on the other side."

"What?!" You whisper-yelled trying not to completely freak out. "You're gonna let him sell this girl's soul without knowing?"

"If he chooses the necklace, yeah."

"How can you be so nonchalant about this? Do you not have any remorse?"

"I have to please my friends on the other side."

"What?"

"You see, doll. I have these friends—beings, if you will. They help me make things become a reality for people, but they need something in return. I do the bidding for them and give them what they want, and in return, they give me something I want."

"That's sick." You spat.

"It's just business, dear." He brushed you off, returning to his unsuspecting customer.

"So, what do you say?" He asked, taking his place back at the table.

"How much for the necklace?"

"Free of charge." Mingi smiled. "All I ask is payment for the card reading. That's it."

The customer was enticed by the offer and was ready to accept.

Knowing what you know now, you didn't want the poor guy to get caught up in a bigger mess. You stared Mingi down, shaking your head. He stared back, his eyes not leaving yours for a long moment as he reconsidered. Then, before the customer could answer, he spoke up.

"Actually," Mingi started. "Forget the necklace, the potion too. There's another way you can possibly change the outcome of all this."

"Really? How?"

"What you need to do is take her out. Ask her on a date and see where it goes from there."

"Are you sure?"

Mingi nodded. "I can't guarantee that it will work, but it's worth a shot. The sooner you do it, the better. That way no one else snags her before you."

"Okay. I think I can muster up the courage to ask her. Thank you so much." The man smiled, pulling money from his pocket. "I'll definitely try that."

Mingi took the cash from him. "Before you go, take this." He grabbed a rabbit's foot keychain, placing it into the man's hand. "Good luck."

"Wow. Thanks a lot!" The customer beamed, leaving the shop.

As soon as the door closed, the fortune teller turned to you.

"Are you happy? You probably screwed me out of a customer." He grumbled, counting the cash.

You saw his eyes widen before he began to frantically recount the bills in his hand.

"He paid me extra."

"What?"

"He paid me a few dollars more than what I charge." He gaped.

"Really?"

"Yeah. He must have really liked my advice." Mingi smiled, shoving the money into his pocket. "I'm a genius."

"You wouldn't have given that advice had I not stopped you from completely ruining his life."

He pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes. "Fine. I suppose you have a point."

Throughout the day, you watched Mingi give readings to people and try to sell them items that you knew had a twisted backstory to them. Somehow, you were able to get him to rethink things and give his customers an actual solution to their problems rather than scamming them into purchasing something that would possibly ruin their lives.

All in all, you'd say your time spent with Mingi wasn't all that bad and you were glad that you were able to possibly save the souls of a few people during your time in the shop.

"Well, today was... enlightening to say the least." You said. "I should go now."

You prepared to leave until Mingi stopped you.

"Would you like something to eat before you go home? You've been here all day and neither of us have eaten. I'll pay."

"You won't use it as an excuse to say I owe you again, will you?"

"No." He shook his head. "Promise."

You were pretty hungry and you couldn't turn down free food, so you agreed. A delivery order was called in shortly. You assisted Mingi in tidying up his shop after a long day while you waited for your meal to be delivered.

Half an hour passed and you found yourself sitting at the round table in the middle of the shop chatting with Mingi while the two of you ate.

"So, what did you think?" Mingi asked, grabbing a large bite of ramen.

"Well, I didn't like how you tried to trick people. I did, however, like what you told them after you chose to be honest."

He couldn't help but feel proud of himself after hearing your words. At first, he was angry that you made him feel guilty for attempting to scam people, but as the day went on, he realized it wasn't so bad. He'd have to find a way to make up for it when he contacts his friends on the other side later, but he wasn't really worried about that at the moment. He was having a wonderful time with you.

Mingi's shadow was agitated that you managed to get in his head and talk him out of striking any deals. The shadow knew you were bad news from the start. You deterred Mingi from doing many tasks, which caused his friends on the other side to become impatient. What happened today would be the cherry on top. They would show him no mercy if he continued this behavior.

"So, the voodoo dolls do work?" You questioned.

"Of course."

"I bet you sell those to people without warning them of the consequences." You commented.

"On the contrary. I actually do warn people before they buy those. I don't want anyone to do something they'll regret."

You looked at Mingi's expression and the way his eyes stared into yours. He was telling the truth.

"Hm. So you do care for your customers." You teased playfully.

He let out a chuckle. "Of course I do."

"This food is great, by the way. Thanks for buying."

"It's the least I could do. I know you didn't exactly want to be here today."

"Actually, if I'm being honest, it wasn't all that bad. Also, I appreciated the way you protected me yesterday when that weirdo tried to sell me a cursed necklace. I felt like I really did owe you."

"I just didn't want you to get yourself in a messy situation. Truth is, I care about you a lot." Mingi admitted.

His words surprised you and made your heart melt at the same time.

Before you could process what was going on, Mingi's shadow lunged for you, knocking you from your chair, pinning you to the ground.

You let out a yelp, struggling to pull yourself off the floor. You couldn't help but wonder how a shadow was so strong.

"Hey!" Mingi shouted. "What are you doing?"

He got up from his seat so fast, his chair nearly fell over. "Get off of her!" He roared, his voice so gravelly and threatening that it sent a shiver down your spine.

Then, you felt the ghostly grip on your wrists disappear. You pushed yourself into a sitting position, your heart pounding violently against your rib cage.

"Y/n." Mingi panted. "I'm so sorry. I... it's never done that before. I swear I had nothing to do with it."

"I need to go home." You responded, your mind in a haze.

"Wait. Please—"

"I can't handle this." You told him, heading towards the door. "I'm sorry. I need to leave."

That's the last time Mingi saw you.

You were in the middle of cleaning your room, tossing things you didn't want into a donate box and throwing away invoices from past online orders and other paper junk into the trash.

There was a knock on the front door, but you paid no mind to it, assuming your brother would answer it since you had your hands full at the moment.

However, the knocking persisted.

"Wooyoung! Can you not hear there's someone at the door?" You shouted down the hallway.

"Yeah." He called back from the living room.

"Are not gonna answer it? I'm kinda busy."

"You do it. I'm in the middle of a drama."

You let out a long sigh, stomping into the living room.

"Can you not pause it?"

"No." He responded, his eyes glued to the TV.

"You're unbearable." You said through gritted teeth, going to answer the door.

The person on the other side was not who you were expecting.

Mingi stood at your doorstep, his head hanging low. You would have told him to go away had you not noticed he wasn't wearing his usual getup. Instead of his customary vest and cardigan or suit jacket combo, he had on a white dress shirt tucked into a pair of black slacks. It was much more toned-down than the outfits he usually wore.

Before you could open your mouth, he spoke.

"I'm done."

"What?"

"I cut ties with the shadow realm."

"Why?"

"For you."

"For me?" You parroted.

He nodded. "This crooked and shady life I'm living isn't the life I want. Especially if it ends up hurting you."

"This isn't a trick... is it?" You inquired.

He shook his head.

"So, let me get this straight. You cut ties with those friends of yours for me?"

"I did."

"And what about your...shadow?" Your eyes trailed to look at the shape cast along the concrete walkway behind him.

He followed your gaze, noticing your uneasy behavior. "It's gone. Just a normal shadow now. Cutting ties got rid of all the abilities I had."

"I see."

"I'm really sorry about what happened that evening at my shop. I had no control over my shadow. It just attacked without warning. Truthfully, I think it's because it knew—"

"Y/n! Who's at the door?" Wooyoung shouted from the living room, cutting Mingi off.

You let out a sigh, rolling your eyes.

"None of your business!" You shouted back before turning to Mingi. "I'm sorry about him."

"It's fine. Maybe we could just stand outside and talk." He suggested. "That way we have some privacy."

"Good idea."

You stepped outside, closing the front door so Wooyoung wouldn't try to eavesdrop.

"Alright. You were saying?"

"Right. My shadow... I think it knew that I was going soft."

"Going soft?" You inquired.

"Yes." He nodded, taking in a deep breath like he was preparing to say something extremely important. "Y/n, I was drawn to you from the start. I got my shadow to follow you around after you first came to my shop. That's how I always knew where you were. I just wanted to see you any chance I got. Then, my feelings began to get more serious and I wanted to do things to make you happy. I wanted to protect you. I guess my shadow realized that I was becoming soft and drifting from my old ways. It tired to hurt you because it thought you were getting in the way."

There was so much information to take in. Mingi had his shadow follow you? But, he likes you and obviously cares for you. Not only that, but he's changing his ways for you. He cut ties with the shadow realm for you. That's a pretty big commitment.

"You were right for calling me a stalker. In a way, I was. I'm sorry." He apologized.

"Actually, it's okay. Technically, it wasn't you following me. Also, I can see that you've changed drastically. You're not the same voodoo shop owner I met a month ago."

Mingi's heart soared hearing you say that. Knowing that he had, at the very least, earned your trust was a big accomplishment for him.

"So, would you maybe be willing to give us a chance?" He asked, softly, his hands finding yours.

Your eyes landed on your joined hands, looking at the way his large ones encased your smaller ones.

"I think..." You trailed off, looking back up at Mingi. "I think I'd be up for that."

His eyes became wide, looking rounder and more innocent, sparkling with hope.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." You nodded.

Being caught in the moment, Mingi started to lean in, only to catch himself before he got too close.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked, softly. His voice barely above a whisper. He didn't want to do anything you weren't okay with.

"You can."

Mingi then closed the narrow gap between your faces, his full and plush lips pressing delicately against yours. Your eyes fluttered closed immediately, melting into the kiss. His large hands let go of yours, holding the small of your back, pulling you against him. The closeness had your heart racing. You had never experienced anything like this before. You were feeling emotions and feelings you had never felt in your life. A rush of heat flooded your body and it felt like butterflies were running rampant in your stomach. All these new feelings were overwhelming but so amazing.

The feeling of Mingi's hands running up and down your back sent tingles up your spine, making you feel warm from the inside out.

Your fingers latched onto the ends of his silvery hair, grabbing at the long strands in the back. Based on the sigh he let out against your lips, he liked that.

After a while, you pulled away, feeling short of breath. You and Mingi stared at each other for a few moments, both of you panting, trying to catch your breath. Mingi's partially exposed chest rose up and down with each huff as his hooded eyes stared into yours. Your arms were wrapped around his slim waist, holding him tightly, not wanting to let go.

"You were right." You spoke up, still breathless.

"What do you mean?"

"About finding love in an unexpected place."

You could see Mingi's cheeks tint pink.

That's exactly what he said to you after your card reading. At the time, Mingi could see into the future, but even he didn't know who you would end up with. He had no idea he would be the one.

"I guess I found love in an unexpected place too." He admitted.

"Why do you seem so surprised? I thought you knew everything." You teased with a smirk.

He couldn't help but grin.

"As much as I hate to, I'd better get back inside. You know, before Wooyoung comes out here and starts harassing me."

"Right." Mingi chuckled.

"I'd like to see you again." You told him as you went to open the front door.

"You have my card. Just give me a call." He winked. "We'll sort something out."

Hongjoong: Hades ⟡ Seonghwa: Maleficent ⟡ Yunho: Captain Hook ⟡ Yeosang: Evil Queen ⟡ San: Cruella de Vil ⟡ Wooyoung: ⟡ Jongho:

Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!

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pickingupmymercedes · 3 days

Text

Not even ours (3/3) - Lewis Hamilton

Sequence: It comes with the territory / Hardest truth / Not even ours

This one can be read as a one-shot, but some context might be lost.

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: angst, pure angst

wordcount: +2k

a/n: Right person wrong time. It's gonna hurt, sorry.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

She hadn’t spoken to her friend in weeks, maybe months.

It wasn’t on purpose, not at first, but as time passed, she had found it easier to shut everyone out. It wasn’t personal—at least, that’s what she told herself—but somewhere along the way, she’d pushed her away, too.

Y/n sat across from her friend in the café, her fingers nervously tracing the rim of her cup, the weight of her decision hanging in the air like a storm cloud she couldn’t escape.

Her throat felt tight. Their eyes holding onto each other’s with a tenderness she hadn’t seen in so long, and it made something inside her ache.

Her friend tilted her head, watching Y/n with a careful, concerned expression. "You seem... lost," she said gently, her voice cutting through the dull hum of the café.

Y/n opened her mouth to respond but found herself swallowing the words that sat on the edge of her tongue.

Lost. Yes, that was exactly how she felt.

But how could she explain to someone else what she hadn’t even fully admitted to herself?

"Do you remember when we used to come here every week, no matter how busy we were?" her friend continued, a small smile playing on her lips. "We’d talk about everything, laugh about the dumbest things. It feels like you’ve... disappeared. Where’s my Y/n gone?"

That question.

Y/n had asked herself the same thing, in front of the mirror, in the middle of the night, and every time she forced herself to smile when she felt like falling apart.

Where had she gone?

Y/n sighed, rubbing her temples as the weight of it all pressed down on her. “I’m fine. Really.”

But her friend wasn’t buying it. “Are you? Because the Y/n I know wouldn’t let herself disappear like this.”

That hit harder than she expected.

She could feel her chest tighten, her heartbeat pulsing in her ears. And she wanted to be angry, to lash out, to defend herself—but there was no point.

Her friend wasn’t wrong.

“I’m just… going through some stuff,” she admitted, her voice sounding small even to herself.can

She reached across the table, her fingers grazing Y/n’s. “You don’t have to go through it alone. But you have to take a step back and figure out if this is really making you happy.”

Happy? She almost laughed at the word, but it caught in her throat.

Happy.

When was the last time she’d even thought about that? About whether she was happy in this whirlwind she’d been caught up in?

“I…I don’t know” she whispered, the truth spilling out before she could stop it and it tasted bitter, like an admission of failure.

She looked up at her, her heart heavy. She wasn’t angry, not really, but the realization hit her like a punch to the gut.

She had been losing herself—slowly, without even noticing. And now… She wasn’t sure there was anything left to hold onto.

The other woman’s grip tightened on Y/n’s hand. “Then it’s time to figure that out.”

When she got home everything was too quiet.

Too calm, almost.

The walls felt like they were closing in on her, and she couldn’t stop the pressure building in her chest.

She needed to let it out.

Lewis was in the living room, casually flipping through sheets of data, completely unaware of the storm brewing a few steps from him.

Y/n stood in the doorway for a moment, watching him. The sight—so familiar, so calm— made something inside her snap.

“You just… you just sit there,” She blurted out, her voice shaking with the suddenness of her own words. “Like everything’s fine. Like we’re fine. How can you do that?”

He looked up, confused, the papers still in his hand. “Y/n, what—what are you talking about?”

She paced the room, her hands shaking as she tried to find the words.

But they wouldn’t come.

All she had was the overwhelming need to scream, to lash out, to do something, anything, that would make the suffocating feeling go away.

“I don’t know!” she shouted, her voice cracking. “I don’t know what I’m talking about. I don’t even know what I’m feeling anymore, Lewis. I just—”

Her throat closed up, and the rest of the words stuck, tangled in a mess of emotions she couldn’t unravel.

He stood up, his face etched with concern as he approached her slowly. “Hey, hey… come here.” He reached for Y/n, his hands gentle, trying to calm her, but it only made the frustration worse.

“No!” she jerked away, tears stinging her eyes as she pushed his arms back. “Don’t do that. Don’t try to fix this! I’m not some problem you can just solve.”

He blinked, hurt flickering across his face. “Y/n, I’m not trying to—”

“I don’t even know what you’re trying to do!” she cut him off, the words spilling out faster than she could stop them. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I feel like I’m drowning, and you—you don’t even notice.”

His brows furrowed, and he stepped closer again, this time slower, more deliberate. “I notice,” he whispered, his voice pained. “I notice every single day.”

The raw honesty in his voice broke something in her.

Her shoulders slumped, and she felt her resolve start to crumble.

He reached again, his arms wrapping around her this time, and she let him. Sagging into his chest, but it wasn’t comfort she was seeking.

Everything felt like too much. The air in the room was too thick, her skin too tight, her thoughts too loud.

She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.

All she knew was that the ache in her chest was unbearable, and if she didn’t do something—anything—she was going to fall apart right here in front of him.

Without thinking, without pausing to consider what she was doing, Y/n surged forward, her lips crashing against his.

It wasn’t a kiss born of passion or love—it was frantic, desperate, a plea for something solid in a world that felt like it was falling apart.

She poured everything she had left into the kiss, as though if she could just hold him close enough, she could escape the storm raging inside her.

Her fingers dug into his shirt, clinging to him like he was her lifeline, the only thing keeping her from sinking.

But instead of comfort, all she felt was the growing panic that even this wasn’t enough. Not anymore.

His hands came up to cup her face, but instead of pulling her closer, he held her in place.

His lips stilled, unmoving, and when he pulled back, his eyes searched hers, a with a mix of sorrow and pity.

“Y/n, stop” he whispered, his voice firm, and the words hit her like a blow.

He was looking at her like he understood, like he knew what she was trying to do, but it only made it worse.

He knew, and still, he wouldn’t let her try and run from this.

His eyes were filled with so much hurt, so much confusion, but he held her gaze. “This isn’t what you need right now. This isn’t what we need.”

His voice wasn’t harsh, but the rejection still cut deep.

Tears filled her eyes as she stepped back, wrapping her arms around herself like she was trying to hold herself together.

But it was no use. Everything was spinning, and now she didn’t even have him to anchor her.

“You don’t know what I need.” she spat, her voice sharp and bitter, but even as the words left her mouth, she knew they weren’t true.

He knew her better than anyone, and that was the problem. He knew she was falling apart, and he wouldn’t let her use him to keep pretending everything was okay.

She wiped her mouth, feeling foolish, like she had just tried to put a Band-Aid on a wound that was too deep to heal with a kiss.

It wasn’t enough. She wasn’t enough. Not for him. Not for herself.

She couldn’t tell how long she locked herself in the bedroom for, curled up on the corner, her mind racing and heart aching.

It felt like hours when there was the knock on the door.

“Y/n?” her friend’s voice was gentle, cautious. “Let me come in.”

Y/n didn’t respond, but after a moment, she creaked the door open, and the woman stepped inside, her eyes scanning the room before landing on her trembling figure.

She couldn’t even look at her. She didn’t want her friend to see her like this—so lost, so broken. But she didn’t push. She sat down next to Y/n on the floor, the silence between them heavy.

“I didn’t know what else to do.” Y/n mumbled; her voice hoarse.

Her friend nodded, her hand finding Y/n’s and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

“I don’t know who I am anymore” Y/n choked out, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how I got here.”

She couldn’t hold it in anymore. The tears started to fall, and before she knew it, she was sobbing, the weight of everything finally crashing down on her.

The pain and confusion spilling out in waves.

Her friend rubbed her back, her touch gentle. “It’s okay to feel lost, Y/n. But you don’t have to stay lost.”

When the tears finally stopped, she stood up, giving one last reassuring look. “I’m just a call away if you need me.”

Y/n found Lewis outside in the garden, sitting on the edge of the patio, staring out into the darkness. The night air was cool, and she could hear the distant hum of traffic, as though the world beyond their little bubble had no idea it was falling apart.

“Lewis,” she called softly, stepping outside.

He turned at the sound of her voice, but didn’t rise. His face was unreadable, but his eyes—those eyes she had once found so comforting—looked tired, worn out by the weight of what neither of them wanted to say.

She swallowed hard as she walked toward him, her footsteps slow, each one more difficult than the last.

She didn’t sit down right away, just stood beside him, looking at the familiar outline of his form against the night, the way his hands rested limply in his lap, as though even they had given up.

For a moment, the silence between them felt like a chasm—an endless stretch of space that neither of them could cross.

It hung there, heavy and suffocating.

"I don’t think I can keep doing this," she choked out, the tears she had been holding back from him finally breaking free.

Her voice was raw, each word scraping painfully out of her like she was admitting to a failure she didn’t want to face.

His hand stilled and the night went quiet, the silence deafening.

She could feel his breath hitching, the weight of her words sinking in. His face was stricken, heartbreak written in every line of his expression.

He stood slowly, his brows furrowing as he took in her words, as if he hadn’t really heard her. "Y/n—"

“I can’t keep doing this,” she interrupted, her hands shaking. “What happened earlier, that’s not who I am. It’s not who I want to be. And you don’t deserve someone who can’t keep up, who’s falling apart.”

She took a breath, trying to steady herself, but it wasn’t working. The truth was out, and it hurt so much more than she thought it would.

Lewis stepped toward her, his arms reaching out as if to steady her, to hold onto her, but she shook her head. “Don’t,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “Please don’t.”

The look in his eyes almost undid her.

He was breaking, too. She could see it—how much this hurt him, how much he was holding back.

For a moment, neither of them moved. They just stood there, staring at each other, neither wanting to be the first to walk away.

“You deserve better,” she whispered, her voice cracking. "I’ve lost myself, Lewis. I’m not me anymore, and I don’t know how to find my way back. I love you so much, but I can’t keep drowning like this."

He let out a shaky breath, his jaw clenching as he fought to keep his emotions in check.

His hand twitched at his side, like he wanted to reach for her but didn’t trust himself to move. “I noticed” he whispered finally. “I noticed every single day.”

His voice broke, and Y/n could see the raw pain in his eyes—the realization that this wasn’t something he could fix now.

His hand then found her cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears that wouldn’t stop falling.

She leaned into his touch, savoring it, knowing this was the last time she’d feel it.

And she closed her eyes, the memories of their life together flashing before her—the way he used to laugh when she teased him about his messy habits, the late-night conversations that seemed to go on forever.

They had built so much together, but somewhere along the way, she had lost herself and their lives with it.

“This… this is the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. “But no love is worth losing my sanity over. Not even ours.”

His breath hitched, and Y/n could feel the conflict in him—the pain of wanting to hold on but knowing he couldn’t.

"I don’t want to lose you" he whispered; his voice thick. "But I can’t see you like that, Y/n..."

Her heart shattered at his words. She reached for him, her fingers brushing against his skin, warm and familiar, and it took everything in her not to pull him into her arms and never let go.

"I love you too much to keep pretending everything’s okay,” she said softly. “I’m falling apart, and it’s not fair to you.”

He closed his eyes, resting his forehead against hers, his breath shaky. “I don’t want to let you go” he whispered, his voice so broken it made her chest ache.

Tears spilled freely down her face as she shook her head, her fingers gently caressing his cheek. "I know," she whispered. "I don’t want to go either. But I can’t stay. Not like this."

He swallowed hard, his other hand guiding her chin so she was looking into his eyes.

The way he looked at her—the way his eyes, brimming with unshed tears, locked onto her—was like he was seeing Y/n for the first and the last time all at once.

"I’ll miss you" he breathed as he embraced her, the soft tremor in his voice shaking her.

"I’ll miss you too" she whispered, the words tasting like ashes on her tongue.

She tried to keep herself together, but the cracks in her heart were spreading, deepening, until she could barely breathe.

"I wish..." he breathed into her hair, his voice thick with emotion, but then he stopped, his words dying in the air.

"I know" she whispered, her heart breaking all over again.

There were so many things they wished for, so many things they wanted, but none of them mattered now. And they both knew it.

The quiet that settled between them was full of everything they couldn’t say, everything they were too afraid of.

She wanted to tell him that she wished things were different, that she wished she was stronger. but she couldn’t.

All she could do was hope that this wouldn’t hurt as much in a few weeks. But deep down, she knew it would.

Tears welled up in her eyes for the last time when she stepped away from him for the last time "I need you to know it’s not your fault, Lewis. You’ve been nothing but amazing."

His thumb brushed over the arm he could reach, almost as if he was drawing comfort from the motion. "It doesn’t make it easier, though, does it?"

She shook her head. "No. It doesn’t."

She wanted to stay like this forever, to keep holding on to him, but she knew she shouldn’t. They had already decided this was the end, and dragging it out would only make it hurt more.

"I should go" she whispered, voice cracking.

"I know" he replied, though the words felt like daggers.

She wanted to beg for him to get her to stay, but that wouldn’t be fair.

He shifted slightly, untangling their fingers, and the loss of that connection made her heart stutter.

She watched as he slowly backed away, his eyes still locked on her, like he was trying to memorize every detail of her face before it was too late.

As she turned to leave, her steps felt heavy, each one more painful than the last. She glanced over her shoulder, catching one final glimpse of him—standing there, watching her with that sad, broken smile.

He looked back, his eyes heavy with pain, and for a brief moment, she thought he might say something more, something to make this easier.

But he didn’t.

And then she was gone.

She had never felt so hollow, so empty. She had never known that love could hurt this much.

But now she did.

______________________________________________________________

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dolliethv · 2 days

Text

One Of The Girls.

summary: English is not my first language, so if you notice any mistakes I'm sorry!! Hiii, this is a pretty TO long story, I wanted to write something with a lot of sexual tension and a lot of smut, read it calmly and I hope you enjoy it xoxo!!

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x fem reader!!

Word count: about 6k

You weren't sure if attending Jude's party was a good idea, but something inside you—maybe the excitement of Halloween and the thought of celebrating with your group of friends, or perhaps the hope of seeing him—convinced you. Jude's huge, new house in Madrid, decorated with lit pumpkins and fake cobwebs, gleamed in the distance, full of people already enjoying the night.

You stepped inside, and strobe lights danced on the walls, while laughter and music filled the air. You grabbed a drink as you passed by the improvised bar, trying to relax. You hadn’t taken more than two steps when you felt that familiar gaze tracing your body. You slowly turned, and there he was, Jude, leaning against the wall, his eyes fixed solely on you.

You wished the ground would swallow you because your damn group of friends was headed straight toward Jude Bellingham’s group. Of course, they all knew each other.

After your friends had chatted enough with the other group, you decided to take the lead.

"Couldn’t you put a little more effort into your costume?" That was the first thing you asked when you finally looked him in the eyes for the first time that night.

Curious about what he was actually dressed as?

Seriously? A simple cop uniform? You could bet your life on the fact that men have zero originality—they always go for the easy option. Lord, give me patience.

You absolutely hated basic Halloween costumes. Anything that took less than ten minutes and minimal effort didn’t deserve attention. It might seem a bit over the top, but given the number of creative ideas this particular holiday offered, you just couldn’t stand it.

Not when you even designed and made your own costume for the occasion.

But it was funny how quickly Jude changed your mind.

Basic is good. Basic is great. Damn it.

"What’s your costume supposed to be, anyway?" Jude continued, his voice calm but his body still a bit tense.

"It’s Suki from Fast and Furious!" Drew, one of Jude’s friends, shouted loud enough that the music barely muffled it.

He wasn’t even trying to hide his blatant staring, but truthfully, neither of you cared. You turned and headed off with your friends to who knows where.

You knew you looked good. You’d worked particularly hard on your outfit for tonight, so you had no reason to hide. Everything was perfectly planned, from head to toe.

Minutes passed, and you tried to convince yourself there was no reason to panic, but there were a lot of people, and your outfit was a bit too revealing. So, when you felt hands around your waist, you were ready to scream for whoever it was to back off.

"It's me."

Oh my God, you almost had a heart attack.

Jude pulled you against him, your back pressed to his chest, his left hand settling on your hip while his right extended around your shoulder to not-so-gently push people aside. The tall, dark-haired boy didn’t take long to start moving you both, making space with his prominent frame when people were too slow to get out of the way, shoving them until he cleared a path for both of you.

Stupid party, stupid Jude Bellingham. It was his fault you ended up there anyway. Jude may not have seen your face, but he definitely felt how tense you were in his arms.

"Why the bad attitude?"

Bad attitude? You didn’t know much about attitudes, but all your limited knowledge vanished when he pulled you even closer.

You cleared your throat briefly, your words followed by a slight shake of your head.

"Am I the one with the bad attitude?" you replied.

Because truthfully, you’d been on your best behavior since you got to that house. Or at least trying.

Jude loved driving you crazy; he thought you looked damn adorable acting tough at barely 5'1".

"By the way, you look amazing."

It was a great move, saying something so flattering to ease the tension.

"Thanks," you murmured, not caring whether he heard, your eyes glued to the back of the guy Jude was elbowing out of the way.

Two stomped-on feet and a "Are you gonna move or what the hell are you waiting for?" later, you were finally out of the chaos.

Well, as far out of danger as you could be at a party and in a house full of mostly strangers.

However, Jude didn’t stop there. He guided you to what you vaguely recognized as the first hallway on the right, his hands never leaving your body. It wasn’t unpleasant for you, not at all, but you both drew more than a few curious stares. It didn’t bother you much now that your closest friends knew. Other people’s opinions of you were never the most positive anyway, but you were surprised at how little Jude seemed to care, considering it was his house.

When you finally stopped, you found yourselves where you’d suspected a few moments earlier, slightly sheltered from the loud music. There were a few other people around, but they were far enough away not to intrude on your conversation.

Jude released you a few seconds before turning you around and wrapping his arms around you again, pulling you close as he leaned against the wall.

"I like your hairstyle; it’s cute," he said, grabbing a lock of your hair between his fingers. "Scratch that. Actually, I love how sexy you look with your hair down."

You were starting to seriously regret the day you told Jude you wouldn’t mind being complimented daily because it was getting out of hand.

How were you supposed to function properly when Jude kept looking at you with dark eyes?

You swallowed hard, shifting your gaze to the side of his face to avoid dealing with the intensity of his stare. You needed to say something and had to do it now.

"People were staring at us."

Of course, your voice trembled, and of course, out of all the things you could’ve said, you picked the one with the most potential to ruin the moment.

Jude was being very open tonight, and while you didn’t dislike it, it was new and somehow made him even more intimidating. All you could focus on was trying to stay afloat, despite involuntarily melting into the warmth of his touch and the comfort of his voice.

"When you look like that, baby, of course, people are going to stare."

You were getting nervous so quickly that it was unreasonable. Your breathing was already picking up, and butterflies were fluttering, one by one, to the point that you could no longer distinguish between those in your heart and those in your stomach.

This was exactly why you shouldn’t stay away from Jude for too long.

"News travels fast, Bellingham. Especially when you’re the footballer of the moment."

But with Jude, you didn’t have to worry. Jude could take care of both of you, and maybe you shouldn’t trust him, but God, it felt so good to be protected.

You desperately wanted to kiss him. Every brush of his thumb against your skin was electrifying. You needed to be closer, needed more, and this time, it had nothing to do with lust.

It was the kind of need you hadn’t felt before, the kind that demanded an exchange of feelings, even if not through words. Even if you tore off your clothes and pressed skin to skin, chest to chest, heartbeat to heartbeat, it wouldn’t be enough. You wanted to be inside Jude’s mind, to share all his thoughts, to experience the unknown, to finally understand each other, but you were too scared.

You couldn’t get there just yet.

"Your costume is stupid," you finally said, your voice coming out a bit more determined.

Jude’s lips curled into a smile, which quickly turned into a laugh that disappeared just as fast, but it was definitely something worth remembering.

"You’re so good at flirting," he purred sarcastically. "Tell me more."

You thought you might be able to keep a straight face, but as soon as you saw him smile, you followed. There was something so addictive about it, maybe the fact that you didn’t see it often, but it definitely made Jude ten times more attractive.

And he was already too attractive to begin with. God.

"It really is stupid," you confirmed your own thoughts, your fingers trailing up to fix the collar of Jude’s cop uniform. "But you look so sexy. I don’t know why I’m so into this kind of stuff."

You knew you weren’t the only one. It’s not for nothing that women love men in uniform.

"You don’t like the uniforms; you like the authority behind them. Or should I say, you’re afraid of it?"

Even though you had the same smile, Jude looked completely different, but he was right. You always felt uneasy around any kind of authority figure.

Watching Jude—with the quite noticeable height and body size difference compared to you, with the sleeves of his uniform stretching around his biceps every time he moved—you couldn’t blame yourself for feeling a bit nervous.

And to top it all off, a pair of very real-looking handcuffs hung from his belt.

So yeah, you gave up your principles about liking the basic for one night, but Jude had chosen a really good costume to spark your imagination.

"Honestly..." Jude grabbed your chin and pulled you even closer, his eyes fixed on your lips. "I wouldn’t mind being a cop if it meant I could make pretty things like you tremble."

As if he needed to be a cop to do that. Idiot.

As if you didn’t already find him intimidating enough without the costume. As if your knees didn’t buckle and your body didn’t heat up every time Jude looked you in the eyes for more than three seconds.

"I think that’d be an abuse of power."

Very socially aware of you, but it might be more believable if you stopped looking at him like you wanted him to take advantage of you. You know it's wrong to think that.

Jude hummed, sliding his thumb over your lower lip before pressing it and pulling it down. The movement was so sudden it made you hiss. It was almost embarrassing how willing you were for Jude to do whatever he wanted, to play with your body however he pleased, without questioning the reason.

"It isn’t if you enjoy it."

Their heads tilted to opposite sides, moving closer with lips tingling from the desire to kiss. You could feel Jude exhale before gently pressing his body against yours and brushing his mouth against yours when—

"Bellingham!"

Both grimaced, and you quickly jumped back, your hands starting to smooth out the wrinkles in your clothes. You didn’t turn around or look at Jude; you didn’t want to know if someone had really seen you and didn’t want to deal with it.

Jude’s friends weren’t the type of people he enjoyed talking to, so it would be weird to find yourself in a situation where you had to pretend to be a bit interested in what they had to say.

"Oh, hey," Jude responded with much less enthusiasm as the sound of footsteps grew louder.

"Good party, man."

You recognized the characteristically deep voice and immediately tried to move a little further from the sound. You opted to take the empty space next to Jude, and to avoid seeming rude, you looked up, meeting Trent Alexander’s eyes before giving a small nod in his direction. The man nodded back with a shy smile resting on your lips.

"Hey y/n, you look great!!" He said.

"Thanks."

You knew him, or at least you knew who Alexander was. In your defense, you knew all the people in your circle of unfortunately extroverted friends. You knew he was a guy with too much money, another footballer, not surprisingly—very attractive—and also much kinder than many other rich and attractive people.

However, you started to feel anxious.

Alexander didn’t seem to notice your discomfort, even after greeting you. But then the guy lowered his gaze, not going below the level of your skirt, but enough to make you wonder— is this guy checking me out?—God, men are all so bold.

Suddenly, Bellingham cleared his throat, subtly but enough to move you a little out of Trent’s view.

Oh, okay.

"Sorry to bother you, but my friend here won’t stop saying she wants to meet the great Jude Bellingham."

Unaware of the presence of someone else before, you moved your gaze to Trent, where a model-like tall girl was giving all her attention to Jude.

You were annoyed by how attractive she was. You couldn’t imagine how she looked in Jude’s eyes. You weren’t a fan of the cliché thought of hating other women over men, but damn, this feeling was hard to handle.

"Can you blame me? He looks even better than I imagined," she said loudly.

Then you looked at how that girl was dressed.

She was obviously someone very bold, and you were all for female empowerment, but if she came any closer to Jude, you’d have to break her neck.

If Jude hadn’t noticed her before, he definitely was now, shamelessly scanning her figure until stopping on her chest a bit longer than necessary. When he looked back at her face, he gave her a playful smile.

"She knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to ask for it. My kind of girl."

Sorry, what? His type of what? Is he really giving me a hint?

A fake and shy smile spread across the unknown girl’s face as she tilted her head slightly and flipped her hair back, exposing more of her neck and collarbones.

"Oh, yeah?" She asked, her voice interrupted by laughter. "What else is your type?"

Me?

The girl started tracing circles with her index finger over the lower part of her collarbone before dragging it down, outlining the beginning of her breasts. They were quite exposed; it was hard not to notice them, but there was no worse way Jude could handle it than staring at them, his expression not hiding what he was thinking.

Bellingham took a step towards her, immediately placing his right hand on her hip without gripping it, just touching a bit, while moving to whisper something in her ear.

There was absolutely no damn way Jude was doing this in front of you, there must be some kind of reality error. No fucking way, you were really holding yourself back from pulling him away from her and giving him a beating.

Once the brunette straightened up, they were both smiling, and you couldn’t hear it, but you read it from the girl’s lips.

"I got lucky tonight."

Well, you had never considered yourself a crazy person, or at least not one who acted out of her mind with no regard for social norms.

Nevertheless, at that moment, you could barely stand.

You had no doubt about it anymore; it was too strong not to recognize, too powerful to ignore. You were jealous, so jealous that all you could think about was violence and all you could see was red.

"I’m leaving," Alexander suddenly said, visibly uncomfortable with the looks being exchanged.

You didn’t even have time to thank him mentally before the girl grabbed his arm as if her life depended on it, sweetly smiling at Jungkook and saying:

"I’ll be waiting."

And with that, they left.

The crowd made them disappear in less than a minute, leaving no trace. All you could focus on now was the unshakable smile on Jude’s face.

You despised him.

None of this was part of the plan.

Jude’s plan was to keep you without sex for a while, make you show how much you missed him, make you feel so needy that you’d give in to anything in seconds. Bellingham thought nothing could compare to the feeling he’d have once he saw your desperation, the ease with which he’d let you go, giving him the upper hand in the situation.

He was wrong.

Something better than a proud version of you was a version willing to admit, to admit that you were jealous, and he made you realize it after this little outburst.

"Where were we?" He asked as if nothing had happened, his attention slowly returning to you, clearly displeased at his side.

-I might have overstepped a bit- you thought. Relax.

Since Jude did everything he could to avoid giving you more than a glance while talking to that girl, wanting to make it as real as possible, he was enjoying watching your reaction.

You stared defiantly at the wall opposite them, obviously trying to transfer all your anger to her instead of Jude.

Seeing you cute probably wasn’t what you was looking for, but Jude found it absolutely adorable.

"Is something bothering you, sweetheart?" He gently brushed a lock of hair from your forehead, his voice laced with false concern.

"No."

It wasn’t a very convincing lie with your teeth clenched and a blank expression on your face.

"Mm, I think it is."

"Good for you."

Jude had to stifle a satisfied smile. The way you responded with the first thing that came to your mind showed you weren’t thinking much before speaking.

"Not in the mood for a conversation anymore?"

You closed your eyes.

But you couldn’t do that, not when it was exactly what you wanted to do. He couldn’t be the first to break, admit his lust, show that he wanted to be with you so much that he’d trample his pride.

Not again.

“You know, I never took you for a jerk who got jealous so easily.”

If it were physically possible, your jaw would be hitting the floor. The air caught in your throat and your lips hung oddly open as you looked at Jude and found the lack of concern on his features.

Being honest was the easiest way to get through to him.

“How dare you?” You asked offended, pushing Jude away as hard as you could.

His balance seemed to falter as you failed to move him an inch, but he did successfully sway on his two feet, before Jude grabbed your wrists.

“How dare I what?” He asked you with an amused smirk. “Does she make you jealous? I was just having a conversation, babe.”

“No, not that.” You finished your statement with an irritated groan, violently breaking free from his hold. “You’re an idiot. Go have a conversation then.”

“Should I?”

The look you gave him only said one thing. “I fucking dare you.”

“Do you think you’ll be able to find her?” You couldn’t help the sarcasm. “You didn’t look at her face even once.”

Well, if it wasn’t obvious, you screwed up. The chances of her living without Bellingham mentioning what you wanted him to not notice were now basically non-existent.

“She didn’t put that on so I would look at her face.”

You had never looked so angry, your head shaking in disbelief and fists clenched on either side of your body. You looked like you were really struggling not to slap him and Jude couldn’t blame you. That was the point, after all.

“Oh, wow.”

He was already on his way to calming her down, his hands reaching for your waist, when you raised his in defense.

“Don’t touch me.”

You even pointed with your index finger in warning, wagging it when Jude didn’t stop.

“I’m not joking, I’ll slap you, don’t touch me- mhppm-”

With one hand around your waist and the other pressing against your jaw, Jude had you backed up against the wall in no time. Despite your earlier threats and your bad mood, you surrendered into his arms quickly, melting into the touch, your soft moans being muffled by Jude’s mouth. The longer it went on, the more eager you became, tugging at his uniform, trying to pull him closer despite your bodies already being together.

When he pulled away, you were a mess. It was being a fight for him to refuse your touch.

“We can go to my room…”

He whispered against you, before moving lower.

“Talk…”

He pressed a kiss against your chin

“I’ll make you laugh…”

And then one on the side of your jaw

“I can make you cum…”

You shuddered at the proposal.

You both knew he wanted it, that was not in doubt. The question was how far he would go to get it.

“You will have my full attention.” With sarcasm.

Another kiss, just below your ear.

“All you need to do is ask.” He made sure you were looking at each other when he spoke, eager to see your reaction. “Tell me you don’t want to see me with someone else.”

You noticed how your body completely gave out, all hope in your eyes. Your excitement was replaced with panic as your pupils dilated and your mouth opened and closed without saying a word.

The offer was so tempting, the promise so real, so possible. I hate it.

You wanted it so badly, but it was a matter of pride and even though you were the prouder of the two of you, it was clear that you still had a hard time taking a step back from him.

“If I need to ask for attention, then I don’t want it.” You replied with a dry tone.

“If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Your jaw clenched at the implication. You knew it.

With the girl dressed in a bad porn nurse costume.

(...)

“Can you stop looking at him? I’m talking to you.”

The words of Odessa, your best friend, barely reached your ears, your thoughts overwhelming you in an almost pleasurable way.

You watched as Jude’s hand wrapped around an unfamiliar waist for the umpteenth time that night, causing your own fingers to grip your knee tightly.

This time it was a redhead, dressed in something that was more meant to cover the most private parts of her body than disguise, but who were you to judge? Right?

There was clearly a set pattern that you noticed during the time you spent sitting, gaping and staring in Bellingham’s direction. People would come up to say hello, most often women, their hands touching as much as they could without being inappropriate and a few minutes after sharing a few words they would come over with eyes fluttering in a way that could only mean one thing.

The first few times it happened, your heart nearly stopped beating. You were sure you knew what was about to happen next- Jude would take her by the hand and lead her to his bedroom.

But it didn’t happen. Not with the curly-haired brunette, not with the six-foot-eight leggy blonde, not with the one he was feasting on now.

Is he not interested? You asked yourself.

A raspy growl rumbled somewhere deep in your throat before you grabbed your glass and clumsily emptied it down your throat, not caring how the liquid spilled from the corners of your lips and down your chin.

You called out to your friends, as you abruptly stood up, almost tripping over someone sitting between them.

“Let’s dance.”

Your lips formed a smile at the thought of Jude seeing you with someone else. It was childish, yes, but you didn't really care.

You were about to execute your plan, but when you turned around, you found nothing worth your attention. The spot Jude was occupying all this time now had other people in it, no sign of the brunette in sight.

You wished you could say that it didn’t affect you.

So you turned your back on your friends and walked in the opposite direction, your newly gained good mood now ruined. You thought maybe if Jude admitted to being jealous, you could too. It would make it less embarrassing.

If Jude was here, surely he could get something better.

Yes, if Jude was here. If he wasn't fucking someone else.

"Having fun?"

A familiar voice reached your ears, close enough to feel the vibration of the sound, making you shiver, thanking God the place was too dark for anyone to notice as Bellingham's proximity made your entire body shake.

You kept your eyes on the empty glass in front of you not quite sure how you were going to respond with his mood.

Any words or actions from you from now on could be detrimental.

"Don't you want to talk to me?"

Silence.

"Okay, I'll go then."

Jude didn't even move. He didn't pull away, nor did he lean back. He stood right where he was five seconds ago, the same annoyed, mocking smile on his features.

"You're still not jealous?"

You weren't just jealous, you were seething with it.

"I am, actually. Tell anyone and I'll make sure it's the last thing that comes out of your mouth."

Admitting jealousy was a big deal for you, especially since you didn't know if Jude felt the same way. Also knowing what was coming after this.

"There's not much that can brighten my mood right now."you entered the room, "I just needed courage for what I'm about to do." locking it once the door was closed.

When you turned around, your eyes met and Jude felt something he hadn't felt in a while, it felt like he didn't really know anything about you.

He wasn't blind to the progress you'd made in the different areas of your relationship, but there was still a lot left to say, explain, discover, and - in a situation like this, when you seemed to be a completely different person - he was surprised at how much he still had to get to know you.

"Yeah? And can I know what it is?"

He longed to feel you again on other parts of his body and even more so when your hot mouth landed on his mouth as you said-

"Punish you."

It wasn't that it hadn't crossed Jude's mind that you might do something like this all night, but still, hearing you out loud was enough to bring a smug smile to his lips.

"Oh, really?"

It would be a lie to say you didn't find it fun.

Things were definitely taking a different turn than he had planned, but then again, ever since the party started, all of his plans were ruined, so he was surprisingly not opposed to the idea.

He was actually very intrigued.

You hummed in agreement and within seconds your hands were back on Jude's body, this time being bolder and freer with your movements.

It was the first proper touch that night and Bellingham thought he was ready, but he really had no idea how much he had missed this until he experienced it again. He struggled to keep his eyes open, but the feel of your palms and the heaviness of your fingers prevented him from doing so.

Your hands moved in opposite directions, one sliding down his abdomen and the other circling the side of his neck. With the pad of your thumb, you traced circles on his skin, massaging and releasing some of the tension.

He had a hard time trying to keep from getting an erection from the moment he laid eyes on you when you arrived. Now... now it was impossible.

"You know..." you started saying.

Jude heard your whisper, but could barely register it due to the heat that was beginning to creep steadily down his body, fading only for a moment when his belt got in the way, but then coming back stronger, with a grip more powerful than before. Bellingham would be ashamed to admit that his breath hitched as soon as he felt you where he wanted it most.

“I’d rather have these for myself, but you left me no choice.”

It all clicked, both metaphorically and literally, in his brain and out loud, but Jude couldn’t move fast enough to stop it.

The handcuffs were already dangling from the tip of your index finger as you swung them teasingly back and forth in front of his face.

Oh. Interesting.

The way you could overpower Jude in a mere second was wonderful.

“What makes you think I’m going to let you do that?”

You pursed your lips briefly as if contemplating his answer.

“And what makes you think I’m going to ask for your permission?” You replied.

“Maybe that drink was too much after all,” he looked at you with a smirk. “Looks like you’re confusing roles.”

Judging by his expression, you didn’t share the same opinion.

You pushed him until the back of his knees hit the bed.

Jude didn’t stop you or object, instead sitting on the edge as he was pushed down, curious to see how things would play out.

“Are you threatening me, baby?” He asked, leaning back on his forearms.

You looked perfect from every angle, she was so sure of it now.

Your free hand gripping Jude’s jaw and squeezing it a little in annoyance.

“My name isn't ‘baby’.”

You slid your fingers down the side of Bellingham's throat where the smear of a lipstick still rested on his skin.

As you stared into each other's eyes, you looked so angry that Jude couldn't help the heat spreading throughout his insides.

"Wouldn't that make you even more angry, baby?" He emphasized on the nickname on purpose, arching an eyebrow mockingly.

The sound that came out of your throat was quiet, but he didn't miss it.

-Even her grunts are cute.-

"Shut the fuck up."

It was clear that you weren't usually the type to get angry to that extent, and even if you had been, you were the type to never act on it.

"Keep your hands behind your back if you don't want to lose your most prized possession."

You felt it before you understood it - a pressure of something hard and unfamiliar against your crotch. Something unwanted.

And it came, a sign. Not too big, not too flashy, not too obvious, but painful and threatening.

Your foot moved so abruptly that the tip of your shoe met the tip of Jude's cock and hit dangerously close to his balls.

You did it. I got you.

"Good choice."

With one swift movement, his crotch was free again, but his hands were bound at the wrists by the steel rings.

You pushed him down onto the bed and pulled his shirt open, leaving his chest completely bare.

“Shit,” you muttered at the sight. “You’re lucky to be attractive.”

“And you’re lucky to be able to see me like this.”

You sent him a questioning look. “Oh, I am? Who hasn’t gotten to see you like this? Because from what I’ve witnessed, you don’t exactly have a criterion when it comes to who you let undress you.”

“You seem really upset by that thought, sweetheart. Are you scared of having a little competition?”

“And what makes them my competition? They’re not as pretty as me.”

“But they’re a lot more obedient.” He replied.

Pure shit.

There’s nothing Jude likes more than how disobedient you are.

“You know my legs are always open for you.”

"Baby..."

"You know you can take anything you want from me, anywhere you want... any way you want..."

Every syllable that came out of your mouth was filled with confidence. Your fingers caressed his jaw as if he was teasing, barely grazing the skin before pulling away and touching another part.

"You have such a dirty mouth." The boy said.

"You want it around your cock?"

Holy shit, did you really say that?

"Yeah."

You hummed, acting like you were considering it.

"But I think you acted like shit, I don't think you deserve it."

"You're lucky that I'm tied up right now, otherwise I'd fuck you until you were ruined."

You seemed to take it as a compliment, your thighs clenching tightly around Bellingham's hips to feel him better.

"Oh yeah? You wanna fuck me?"

As if his massive erection wasn't proof enough already.

“Yes, baby. So bad.”

His confession brought a satisfied smile to your face.

“You wanna see what I got under there?”

“Show me how pretty you are.”

But you didn’t take off any clothes.

You just started riding one of his thighs, your movements teasing and slow.

“Shit. Take this off me.” The dark-skinned one said.

“And why would I do that?”

God, this was getting so frustrating. Jude wanted nothing more to do than watch you choke on his cock until you remembered how to talk to him properly. You shifted a little on his lap, creating a small but effective friction.

“Baby…”

“Suck.” You claimed.

Shit. Usually, Jude was the one giving the orders. Usually, you were the one with Jude’s fingers inside your mouth, too. He opened his mouth obligingly and you immediately pushed two of your fingers in, letting them rest on the tip of his tongue before pushing them fully into his mouth.

“You like having my fingers in your mouth?”

Jude couldn’t help but like the mess he was turning you into.

You withdrew your fingers without warning and brought them to your own mouth, sucking and moaning lewdly as you looked directly into Bellingham’s eyes.

“You’re so fucking dirty.”

Your hand trailed until it was just above your breasts, eyes still on Jude’s as you squeezed your tits.

Jude didn’t even have time to react before he saw you move up your own body and rub through the material covering your pussy, touching up and down a bit teasing the boy in front of you, leaving a wet spot when you pulled your hand away.

“Move your hips for me. Can you do that for me?” That innocent tone you set made Jude explode. And he didn't need to be told twice.

He put all of his weight on his arms, his palms and heels sinking deep into the mattress, and he lifted his hips so hard that you jumped a little on his lap.

Without further ado, he thrust up, fast at first, to give you a taste of his desire, but then slower, nicer, dragging his length over your underwear-covered clit.

You decided to go a little further and freed Jude's cock, so damn big and veiny. You pulled off your underwear and started rubbing yourself. It was so damn delicious the difference in size and how the head of Jude's cock rubbed against your clit.

But what kind of punishment would it be, giving him something he so craved? You knew. You had prepared better.

So when you forgot about everything except the repetitive motion you were supposed to follow, when your moans were finally released loud and clear in the way only he had heard them before, when he could already feel the pleasure, you lifted your hips.

Bellingham groaned in frustration, closing his eyes as he fucked into the air, unable to stop his body from seeking the orgasm he had just been denied.

“Untie me this very instant.”

He may not have sounded angry at his ragged breathing, his body still recovering from the denial, but he was and he would gladly show you how terrifying he could be if he gave him the chance.

You smiled sweetly, dropping your weight onto his lap, a movement so sudden it left him breathless.

“No.”

"I wasn't-" He trailed off, a small sound escaping his mouth from another roll of your hips on his axis. "I wasn't asking."

"Fuck, did I tell you how big you are?" You replied, your small body shaking as you pulled away and sat on the edge of the bed. "You should learn not to play with me Bellingham, I'm not one of those girls, don't get wrong with me."

You pulled up your underwear and pulled back up the shorts that barely covered your ass and the small miniskirt accompanied by a pink belt that was hooked with straps to the leggings that reached just above your knee.

"Shit, shit, shit..." He replied frustrated.

"I'm sorry but now you'll have to fix this on your own." You turned around and walked away.

Jude Bellingham is totally lost.

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