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palajae · 21 days

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episode three. | park sunghoon

PAIRING ▸ host!sunghoon x reader

GENRE ▸ ouran high school host club!au, high school! au, romance, fluff, angst, humor

WC ▸ 3.1k

SUMMARY ▸ host park sunghoon: the strong and silent type. with his cold, tsundere personality and killer good looks, it’s hard not to fall for sunghoon. his connection to sunoo is of utmost importance; however, you could be the one to change that. (but be warned, he’s a man of few words.)

AKA episode three of the kiss, kiss, fall in love! series

AN/NOTES ▸ social awkwardness, not proofread

sorry okay it’s been a fat minute since i posted but FINALLY JAE has gotten the next part out ‼️ i really channeled the engene in me for this one lmao.

EPISODE THREE. Beware the Ice Prince!

seriously, you only started attending the en-host club because your friends did and you really had nothing else to do.

you had heard several of the boys in your grade were in the infamous club, but besides that, you had no interest in “club” affairs.

natty and lily wouldn’t stop talking about how “chivalry wasn’t dead” and how “god had favorites.” you figured by going, you could kill some time and meet some new people.

mainly due to the fact that you were attached to the hip to your… well, sketchbook. what better to utilize the people around you for your passion?

and the most pretty ones were—obviously—found at the en-host club!

by going there, you could observe and hopefully see some good art.

while your friends had their favorite designated hosts and activities, your first entrance to the club involved a lot of awkward silence and muttering.

“you mean, you don’t want to hang out with any of us?” sunoo—you think—frowns.

you shake your head, stammering. “n-no! i just, prefer to be alone. i can just-like-sit in the corner or something.”

he brightens up and you breathe a sigh of relief.

“i see. you just like the company?”

you nod and the host smiles again. “that’s fine. you don’t have to be entertained by one of us. you’re welcome as much as you like! you could even sit by sunghoon!”

your eyebrows furrow as you follow sunoo’s line of sight to-

oh dear.

probably the finest man you’ve ever laid your eyes on.

a true work of art.

your heart pounds uncomfortably in your chest as you glance back at sunoo.

“he doesn’t like to talk much either, so i think you two will get along well!”

you look uncertainly at the controlled chaos happening all around the room, before back at sunoo.

he nods encouragingly at you. “don’t worry. even though sunghoon looks like it, he doesn’t bite. in fact, it’s probably the opposite.”

holding your breath, you clutch your sketchbook tighter in your hands before approaching the table sunghoon was quietly sitting at.

he didn’t even do anything, yet you felt so intimidated.

wow, it was really stifling to be in his presence. awkwardly, you take a seat. and although he doesn’t move, you feel his eyes land on you.

biting your lip, you hesitantly wave.

that was it. no words exchanged.

after a while, you finally began to relax. still, neither of you said anything. you even felt alright enough to open your sketchbook.

your eyes would travel across the room, although they always landed on the same person. the one sitting in front of you, silently sipping his tea.

so you sketched. and you enjoyed it. so much to the point you returned the day after, and the day after.

eventually, the hosts came to know you as a regular. they knew your exact order and your routine. the same every time you came—even without your friends.

they understood that you simply appreciated sitting and observing. with all the things going on at the club, you enjoyed staying off to the side the most.

like sunghoon.

after the first day, you couldn’t work up the courage to approach and sit next to him when he wasn’t with sunoo hosting.

that was fine. you had eyes. you could sketch him as long as you could see him. pages, filled with a variety of sketches, began to fill up your notebook.

and most of them were of sunghoon.

who were you kidding—all of them were of him. every outfit in every season, every expression of his (and he rarely showed emotion). you basically memorized sunghoon’s face.

and in your time observing at the en-host club, you realized you had only heard him speak a total of six phrases: welcome, goodbye, yes, no, and thank you.

he more than piqued your interest, but you were far too shy and unmotivated to do something about it.

checking the clock, you sigh wistfully while putting your sketchbook back into your bag. as always, this was your time to leave. occasionally, one of the hosts would notice you leaving and wave goodbye.

this time, you’re almost to the door when a tall figure suddenly appears in your line of vision.

you falter, swallowing abruptly when you realize it’s sunghoon. he looks dashing in his pink hoodie and light jeans—someone mentioned the boys had a boyfriend concept today.

you stare up at him curiously until he steps closer to you. your mouth dries up at the close proximity. you feel like you can hear your blood rushing in your ears.

sunghoon doesn’t say anything, as per usual. instead, he walks over and holds open the door for you.

for a second, you don’t move. and then it hits you.

what the what the what the, he opened the door for you!

you quickly squeak out a thank you before practically dashing out of the club room. you’re not sure if you heard or imagined the soft “get home safe,” coming from his voice.

was he watching you? is that how he knew to open the door? why did he go all the way to help you? did he know what time you usually left?

you fall onto your bed with a sigh. you were overthinking, and you were delusional. just a little bit.

perhaps, you would work up the courage to talk to him next time.

you swear you’re not that delusional. most of the time it was you who was staring at sunghoon, sneaking glances at him when he wasn’t looking. whenever he was busy hosting. honestly, your best works were of his stunning side profile.

but something feels different from that day forward.

like…like sunghoon was the one staring at you. at first, you were sure you felt eyes on you.

you would glance up from your sketchbook with a frown, glancing around the room. it was at that moment you would catch sunghoon turning away from you.

but in what world would he be looking at you?

he didn’t say a single word.

it happened so often to the point where you would actually meet his eyes before looking away. you always broke eye contact first.

this back-and-forth occurred four times before you decided to do something. yes, you counted.

you decided to remind yourself that you only live once, and you took the chance. you finally stopped being a coward and sat next to sunghoon, one lovely afternoon.

he seems almost shocked when you approach him, like your very first day at the host club.

once again, no words were spoken. you simply smiled before taking the seat. unlike the other girls who usually fawned and squealed over him, all you did was sit and enjoy his company. honestly, he was so familiar to you at this point, you actually felt comfortable.

and when you thought he wasn’t looking, you liked to sneak peeks at him as well. he was even more breathtaking up close.

that became your daily routine whenever sunghoon was free. although it was absurd, you once thought that maybe he looked forward to sitting and watching with you.

“what’s up with you and sunghoon?”

“h-huh?”

natty leans over from her desk to shoot you a look. “i mean, what are you two doing in the corner all day?”

you look down at your desk bashfully, “it’s not all day…i just enjoy his company.”

lily laughs, “sure. i bet you have a lot fun staring at him.”

you feel your face get hot as natty elbows her. “i think the two of you are cute. even if you have nothing to say to each other.”

“yeah, i don’t know how you managed to get so close to him. sunghoon is pretty detached from the other girls. he’s just there half the time with sunoo.”

your heart quickens. was that true?

lily sighs, almost face planting into the table. “what up with all the boys recently? heeseung has been so obsessed with that one student who i don’t even know the name of since they’re so busy studying all the time. and then the top two people of our class are constantly preoccupied with each other. at this rate, i’m gonna move to jake…”

you nodded in contemplation. she was right, you’ve seen heeseung following around your classmate like a baby duck following their mom. even weirder, the two smartest people in your grade started to sit together at the club.

you were there for it all.

“sim jaeyun? um, I’m not sure about him. he and riki have a lot of crazy fan girls,” natty wrinkles her nose. “hey, i did hear there was a new host! his name is jung…jung-something.”

“jungwon,” you finish for her. she nods, “i think he’s pretty handsome.”

“not as much as sunghoon though,” you unconsciously mutter.

sunghoon can easily remember the first day you walked in, eyes wide like you were a kid on their first day of school. the corners of his mouth tilt up slightly. you looked like a baby kitten.

he catches himself, focusing back on sipping tea while sunoo devoured his sweet treats.

“do you want a bite, hoon?”

he shakes his head amusedly at sunoo’s bright expression.

“you should stop eating so many sweets. you already had two slices of cake today.”

while sunoo pouts and gets up to put his plate away, sunghoon refocuses his attention on you. he didn’t mean to—his gaze was just drawn to your presence.

he watches wordlessly as sunoo approaches you. you looked so intimidated, sunghoon already felt bad and he didn’t know the reason.

he catches himself again, internally chiding his own behavior. get a grip, you’re a host.

suddenly, you’re approaching him. you look like a kitten again in front of him, just like when you first walked in. his whole body tenses.

sunghoon waits, yet you don’t say anything. only a simple wave and that’s enough to light a fire in his heart.

he’s surprised to see you sit down and pull out a sketchbook. he observes as you flip through the pages, trying to sneak a peek. but then he realizes he’s being kinda, really creepy.

so sunghoon purposely turns away to focus. look anywhere but at the person sitting across from you, he repeats to himself over and over.

after that day, he noticed you didn’t sit next to him. for quite a while.

so, he chose to watch you. he watched you walk in every afternoon with a hesitant smile. he watched as you took the same seat near the window and pulled out your scuffed up notebook to draw.

he watched how your lips pursed when you weren’t happy with a sketch, or how you would stop to think while looking around you.

sunghoon liked the way your eyes lit up when you turned to a blank, fresh page. and when you would smile and greet the other hosts, gratefully accepting a cup of tea. even the look of concern you had on your face as you watched jake and riki do something stupidly dangerous again.

the thing he liked the most, however, was when he felt your eyes on him when you thought he wasn’t looking.

sunghoon’s not sure why, but he likes it. after all, he couldn’t say anything. he did the same thing to you.

he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you.

that’s why, when you sit across from him one day with that stunning smile of yours, his breath hitched.

sunghoon… wanted to say something. he tried, really tried, but no words would come out. he couldn’t think of anything to say.

apparently, that was fine with you. you relaxed in the silence, so he did too.

it’s not like he meant to, but he snuck a glance. he was so curious as to what you had been working on in that sketchbook of yours. he knew it had to be your prized possession, the way you carried it around everywhere.

sunghoon certainly wasn’t expecting to see his own face, beautifully drawn. it was him from a few weeks ago, last week, and yesterday. he remembers the detective concept and outfits they adorned.

you… you sketched it all. all this time, you sketched him?

he’s truly speechless, and everyone knew it was hard to make the stoic sunghoon react.

“…are you friends with y/n?” he randomly asks one day after the club had closed for the day, completely out of the blue.

sunoo tilts his head, “we’ve talked. why?”

heeseung pops by, “did i hear hoon’s got a crush? who could have warmed the cold tsundere sunghoon’s heart?”

although he wants to roll his eyes, he simply looks away.

“y/n?” riki calls from where he’s playing catch with jake, “the one who doesn’t say anything and draws all day?”

“they could if they wanted to,” sunghoon remarks quietly. riki shrugs.

sunoo watches sunghoon with an inquisitive expression.

he’s never seen his friend act like that with the other guests before…

“it’s his birthday soon?” the words spill out of your mouth without even realizing it. you stopped, overhearing some girls sitting near you.

they eye you, and it registers in your head that they know you’re the one whom sunghoon often sits next to. you seem oh so close to him, and yet you don’t know his birthday? you feel embarrassed, making your way to your normal seat.

“hoon? yeah, his birthday is in three days,” sunoo nods. “why? are you planning something?”

you’re quick to shake your head, flustered. “nono, i was simply curious… thanks for letting me know.”

alright. you officially have three days to find sunghoon a gift.

it’s only then it hits you. you know close to nothing about sunghoon. other than the fact that he was a host, you barely knew his likes or dislikes. heck, you barely even spoke to him.

you’re doomed. all the other guests were probably going to get him extravagant gifts that were exactly to his liking.

you? you scrambled to find something that would come in three days. and you weren’t even sure if he would like it. at the least, he could regift it to someone else if he really hated it.

you clutch the small gift bag nervously behind you as you enter the host club.

usually, decorations would be set up for the members’ birthdays. however, sunghoon never wanted a big celebration so they would get him a simple birthday cake every year. at least, that’s what sunoo told you.

sunghoon wanted his birthday day to feel like any other ordinary day. you hoped you could stay true to that.

or…not.

the sight of said host rejecting someone’s gift to him is the first thing that greets you. your smile immediately falters.

he didn’t like gifts? your heart begins to race. crap, crap. what were you going to do? you couldn’t hide the gift—someone would find it. it was obviously who it was for, with the big fat words happy birthday printed all over the bag. plus your names written on it, addressed to sunghoon.

your eyes follow him to his usual seat, only for your heart to drop.

sunghoon looks around expectantly. almost like, he was… looking for someone (you). he does. almost immediately.

if you move, he’ll see the bag behind you. heart racing, you decide to charge ahead and approach him. you couldn’t face a rejection of the gift you spent hours trying to find, but you also didn’t want to leave him hanging.

you walk over nervously, doing your absolute best to hide the bag and appear unaffected. maybe he wouldn’t notice, right?

wrong. sunghoon was probably the most observant person on the earth. his eyes immediately fall to your suspicious hands.

it was over. his eyes flick back up to you with a questioning look in them.

you close your eyes briefly, internally falling to your knees. well, there was nothing else to do.

you nervously thrust out the bag towards him, hiding your face as you softly say,

“happy birthday, sunghoon.”

you hold your breath and wait embarrassingly for the painful rejection.

spoiler: it never comes.

“thank you.”

hearing his voice causes shivers to run down your spine. your eyes fly open. did he just…accept your gift? and more importantly, he spoke to you?!

he takes the bag and puts it aside on the table.

“are you not going to open it?”

he looks at your expectant expression before beginning to unwrap the gift.

“i thought maybe we could share,” you mumble.

sunghoon carefully opens the intricate wrapping to unveil the gift you ultimately decided on: a smooth, leather sketchbook with pencils.

“now we’re matching,” you whisper before pulling out your own.

“i… don’t know what to do with it.”

hearing his voice again still makes goosebumps appear on your arm. you stifle a laugh as you reach over to demonstrate.

the real sunghoon watches in awe as you begin roughly drawing something in his new sketchbook. when you retract your arm, he’s finally able to see what you did. it’s a beautiful drawing of a cake and the words, happy sunghoon day!

he glances up at you with wide eyes. you shrug and only look away. to your surprise, sunghoon determinedly picks up a pen and begins doodling as well.

soon enough, the first page is filled with random drawings, doodles, and most importantly, meaningful connections.

you both smile and silently laugh at each other’s drawings. sunghoon’s favorite is your drawing of a baby sunoo and his cake while your favorite is of sunghoon’s (rather awful, yet still recognizable) drawing of the seven hosts.

this is the first time you’ve felt like you truly communicated with sunghoon, even if it was through a paper and pen instead of words.

when the page is filled completely, you admire your collaboration work proudly.

“thank you, y/n.”

your heart warms. “o-of course,” you stammer. maybe you were slightly very internally freaking out that he addressed you by your name.

sunghoon must’ve seen your bashful expression because he reaches over to pat your head. nothing else had to be said, because in that moment, you felt all your feelings were conveyed.

park sunghoon was supposed to be the cold and tsundere type of host. yet around you, he felt vulnerable, like you brought out a different side of him.

as you sit across from him, sharing smiles, you wish this moment could last forever.

all you can think is that sunghoon’s soul is so pure and needs to be preserved, protected. you really hope you can be the one to forever do that.

previous episode. | next episode.

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hadesisqueer · 4 months

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I'm bored so rating 4/6 of the Camp Fam for how good their gaydar /j was aka how aware they were of Yaz and Sammy having a thing for each other before they got together (lmao)

Darius: This boy is an angel and very supportive once he found out, but he was too busy leading the group to bother noticing these things and he himself said he had no idea so 1/10. I give him the 1 because he's a sweetheart.

Ben: He was the first person Yaz came out to, and he was extremely supportive, and in Chaos Theory he is still like, extremely supportive of them (he'd take their breakup worse than they would). However, my boy was very oblivious before Yaz told him, to the point that at first he thought Yaz had a crush on him and then it took him a few seconds to process Yaz was talking about her and Sammy when she told him, so, love him but 3/10.

Kenji: When Sammy and Yaz told him they were together, his reaction was being thrilled about it, laughing and hugging them while saying "finally!" so unlike Darius and Ben, this boy had actually noticed before they told him. I like to think he and Brooklynn talked about them sometimes. He gets 8/10.

Brooklynn: She has gay dads so obviously her gaydar is on point /j. When she saw them kissing her reaction was screaming and saying they were finally official, so that speaks for itself. Also these are all from previous seasons lmao.

So of course she noticed, the girl was always in the middle lmao. 100/10, if Yaz had told her instead of Ben that she thought she had a crush on Sammy, Brooklynn would have been like "thank god you noticed"

#that moment with sammy snoring and yaz sighing dreamily while watching her sleep with brooklynn in the background always takes me out #jwcc #jurassic world camp cretaceous #jwct #brooklynn jwcc #darius bowman #kenji kon #yasmina fadoula #ben pincus #sammy gutierrez #yasammy

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hanniejji · 2 years

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silence

[ wanderer!scaramouche x okami!reader ]

summary: completely lost after his defeat in becoming a god, he searches not only for a new purpose but also for a certain someone who brought him comfort greater than his own kin would.

notes: aka scara is a baby and comes crying to you because he's a sore loser /jk | m.list

words: 2933 | warnings: it's scaramouche /jk there's nothing bad here just comfort and shit, also the pacing is kinda shitty cause i wrote this at work lmao

you have always loved the silence.

the eerie silence that enveloped a battlefield after a fight, where one side mourns for the dead and the other celebrates their victory far away. the tranquil noises of nature in the forest, your abode—if you focus enough, you can hear the white noise of the wind rushing above the sky, the flight of birds, the footsteps of every animal within your vicinity, and the gushing waterfall hitting the surface below. the muted thoughts of people, all with voices to scream yet defiance against authority means death, so they choose to silence their cries for help. the stillness of the night, where you can faintly hear the howls of your kin from afar, reminding you of past battles won and lost.

but somewhere in the distant memory of your past, you miss the complaints of a certain boy whose voice never seemed to shut the hell up.

your words, not mine.

he used to be so loud, crying even whilst he slept. whining and complaining about how you imprisoned him in this otherworldly forest of yours, yet he shuts his mouth after being reminded of his reality of being a casualty to those he comes across.

a puppet gone mad, out of its master's control, strings tangled.

"you're not here to be tamed, brat."

"then why are you keeping me here?" kunikuzushi glares at you from the other side of the stone table, a hand gripping the knife you casually gave him so he could practice on his own.

you always seemed to be his dummy target though. not that he could hurt you in the slightest, the gap between your capabilities is that of the height you need to reach celestia. it's quite an exaggeration, but far from a lie.

"so you don't go around accidentally causing more unintentional problems. learn how to use your brain or something, you have one for a reason," was always your answer to his repeated question, laughing at the way his face contorted to apprehension. "i don't have the patience to shape you into whatever humane person or puppet your creator wants you to be. so i'm doing you a favor by letting you be whatever the fuck you want to be. kill whoever you want, destroy whatever you want, go pour your anger as much as you want. it matters little to me."

"doesn't that contradict your past obligation as inazuma's former defender?"

"exactly what the title says," you shrug your shoulders, throwing your hands up without energy, "that is in the past. inazuma's concerns do not matter to me now that my god is gone."

placing your chin on your palm, you send him a knowing smirk, a sight he realizes that he does not like, "you can destroy this nation all you want and i wouldn't mind one bit. it would be interesting to see you as a god and not just a little brat."

he would always grow silent after the nth time you had this conversation, pondering, imagining the imagery of what you just said. it's almost as if he's in a trance.

the silence of someone having an inner conflict in more ways than one, is something that you would say is better than the silence when someone is mourning.

because this kind of silence is always followed by chaos.

"oh? where do you think you're going, little doll?"

"stop calling me that," he hissed, turning his head to glare at you.

for some reason, the change in his personality these past few months was refreshing, so unlike the whiny little brat who used to cower away from you. the same brat who's always frustrated at himself.

but at the same time, it's such a shame that he didn't change his ways. still reckless and careless.

this recklessness will kill him someday, you thought.

"well, answer the question."

he falters, taking a few steps away from you when you tilt your head, urging—demanding for his answer. he still couldn't look you straight in the eyes when you become like this—when your voice goes a little deep, eyes staring him down and the authority in the way you poised yourself.

"to the fatui. i'm not going to let myself rot in here."

"you're a puppet, you're not supposed to rot."

he scoffs at the comment, vile irritation building up his throat at the way you remained unbothered, almost uncaring, indifferent and as if this means little to you. you act more like a puppet than he does, he realizes.

he hates that about you.

it's ironic. he's the same way, more venomous through his words—but with you, it's like talking to a stone cold wall.

"i'm leaving to snezhnaya."

"hm," you turn your head to the vast forest, shrouded with tall trees and thick fog—wait, when did the fog get so thick? kunikuzushi was so sure he could still see far and beyond the first few layers of those trees, why did the forest suddenly seem so eerie and… predatory.

"you can leave."

"huh?" he stares at you in disbelief, with a hint of sadness.

are you… really going to let him go that easily?

for some reason, despite the freedom given to him, he wanted you to stop him.

"find the exit yourself," your trademark grin appeared on your face, challenging and daring him to do so. it's infuriating, makes him feel like you're looking down at him and his capabilities. "if you successfully get out of this forest, then i trust that you can handle the world outside and beyond this nation."

i take back my words, he scoffs, i don't need their permission to leave. they can't stop me.

"i don't need another petty test of yours, i can take care of my own," he sharply turns away and into the direction he swore was the exit just a moment ago.

"oh, trust me, doll," your giggles echoed through the forest, ringing in his ears for the last time, way too close than from where you just stood a moment ago.

"the forest is a cruel place to get lost in."

and since then, your abode returned to the way it was.

placid, motionless, and isolated. just like how it should be.

yet you look forward to the day that he comes back crying—you stifle a laugh at how pitiful he would look—scrunched nose and furrowed eyebrows, grumbling curses to the world as he slumps down on the ground, hissing at you as you tease him for being a baby before he falls asleep on the sprawled blanket you have in the living room of your cabin. your spirit watches over his sleep, dispersing his nightmares before it can even take root in his mind and blanketing him with your tail despite his inability to feel the change in the temperature.

no, he's too deep in his sleep to ever catch you doing such things.

some days, you'd sense a feeling of fear crawling inside the back of your head. it takes a form of visions and voices. it would whisper using the boy's voice, show images using his face, speak in a way he does. it's times like this that you take pride in your strength. you know better than to crumble against fear and its illusions. such emotions are not strong enough to push through the height of your defenses that were built from piles upon piles of lost loved ones.

yet your heart clenches at the thought of this boy, robbed of the opportunity to grow properly, succumbing to the demons of this world.

it's a shame that even you can't be the person to guide him, for you are the same as he.

you can only hope that he finds himself in his journey.

"ah, it seems like it's that time of the year once again."

you stretch your limbs with a pur-like groan, your tail swinging in anticipation behind you. now that the weariness from sleep had faded, your sharp eyes admire the red and orange colors blending within the forest, the sound of leaves crunching beneath your feet every step you take music to your ears and the cold breeze wafting in the air.

the season of fall always brings out the playful side of your soul.

your attentiveness is sharper than usual, eyes turning to every little bit of movement in your surroundings despite knowing that no threat can occur in your abode. you carved its landscape with your very own hand, grew each and every tree rooted on the ground, wrote protective spells into every tree bark to form your very own barrier, opened ponds and breathed life into its very ground through the leylines. it's your safe haven, nothing can disturb your peace and it is a part of you to an extent.

that's way, when a familiar presence stepped inside your abode with no struggles whatsoever, your ears perked up and tail sways in anticipation.

fall is indeed a season for farewells and reunions.

"you're back quite earlier than expected, did the world outside the forest scare you?" you needn't look to know that he's standing right at the entrance of your favorite clearing, your figure sat near the pond with your feet dipped into the clear water.

"you're exaggerating," he grumbles, footsteps getting louder and closer until he's close enough, stopping just next to you.

"most certainly not," you hummed softly, tilting your head up to look at him after a few hundred years of not seeing him. your ears twitched.

instantly, you know something is different about him.

"you've changed."

"hmp, perhaps," he scoffs loudly, taking a seat beside you in a criss-cross position, slouching a little bit. he's barely looking at you, but that's not something new.

the way you imagined he would years ago.

"you're still grumpy though, might want to change that."

"you're still insufferable. i shouldn't have come back."

"yet you're here. i'm surprised you were able to enter without a problem. i was hoping the forest devoured you when you left. turns out you were able to get out, a shame," you sigh, "i should check on my barriers soon."

"you—" he hisses—the same way you adored, like an angry kitten—turning his head to glare at you, forehead scrunched in irritation, "so you don't even know if anyone gets caught in your shithole? did you assume i just up and died right before i got out?"

he can feel something warm in his chest at the way you laughed freely.

he hasn't heard that sound for a long time.

"you're alive though," he groaned at the familiar sly smile on your face. "besides, i wouldn't have let you go if i didn't know that you'd make it out alive."

"you would in a heartbeat."

"hm, if it were someone else, perhaps. but not you," you turn your head back to the pond, a contented smile on your face, voice unintentionally turning soft, "not my brat."

those words were the key to kunikuzushi's vulnerable state.

the silence that followed after your words was… unnerving, for some reason.

yet you felt as if you should give him the time he needs to gather himself, to give him a choice to talk or to keep things to himself. it stayed like that for a while, tuning into the sound of birds above and humming to make him more comfortable—or was it for your own comfort that you tried to fill in the silence? the feeling of being unsure is so… uneasy.

why am i doing so much for his comfort?

just when you're about to speak to change the topic, he opens his mouth—and he speaks.

piles and piles of words upon words, like a scroll being unravel down the flight of stairs to the narukami shrine. his voice, clumsy and blurry words as it may be, sings to you tragedies in a kabuki performance. he opens his doors to you and only you, almost breaking down on the spot if it wasn't for his ridiculous pride—you surmise that you may have influenced him in that case. it plays a theatrical scene that takes eternity to finish dialogues upon dialogues.

he's a puppet whose strings are cut short, but he picks himself up, tangling the fragile strings in the process.

and you are his only audience.

you're his standing ovation when no one bothers to stop and see him for what he is.

perhaps, you are more suited to be sat beside him, joining in his play instead of just a witness—because you are more than just some random bystander who happens to pass by a puppet show.

it took him a while to finish his story. just like any kabuki, time is crucial in the production, and kunikuzushi is a person who barely had the time to see the world in its purest form. yet time is also what brought him his demise.

the gods did not give him enough time to feel and learn.

when he finishes, the sun has already hid itself behind the ocean of trees and the sky is blanketed by a starry void.

a false sky, he said in one of his stories.

somehow, kunikuzushi's head ended up on your lap—he dares not to bring attention to this fact, he already feels embarrassed as it is.

"how did it felt?"

he stares at you with a grain of salt.

"to what? to almost die? quite the experience, i didn't enjoy falling head first though. would you like to try?"

"no, dumbass," he hisses when your finger flicks against his forehead. before he could even cover the assaulted area, you swat his hand away to replace it with yours. an uncharacteristic gentle touch on his skin, a caress. he resists the urge to melt towards your hand. "how did it feel like to almost have something within your reach but realize it won't do you any better? to learn how to decide for yourself, for the better, after experiencing bitter defeat?"

he purses his lips, turning away from your direction to stare at the pond reflecting the dark sky.

your hand slips across his forehead to his hair, gently caressing the familiar stresses—familiar stresses that reminded you so much of a former dear friend that you lost long ago. you didn't expect him to answer your question yet, to push forward for an answer would be adding salt to an open wound.

and the last thing you want to do is give him a reason to pull away.

"you know, if i was ei, i would have chosen you to rule with me."

"stop saying things to make me feel better, that's not like you," he scoffs—unbeknownst to the way his cheeks turn a little warmer.

such a human feature to have.

"i would love to see you be the god you wanted to be," you continued to mutter with a soft smile, brushing your fingers through his hair.

"stop it."

"i would watch you build yourself higher and have greater goals as a god."

"what is wrong with you!?" he quickly pushes himself off of you, whipping his head to look at you with a bewildered face. "are you out of your mind!?" he glares at the way your smile turns sly.

"i would have chosen you, someone with no human heart yet able to feel what it's like to be human," your hand pats his head playfully, snickering when he swats it away roughly.

"you," growling, he turns away from your direction.

"but alas, i'm not patient enough to baby you or anyone else," you shake your head shamefully, shrugging your shoulders. "go do whatever the fuck you want yourself, learn shit for yourself. but that does not mean you can do it alone, dumbass."

"why are you talking like this?" he mumbles, but you can see the way his shoulder trembled in the slightest, no doubt nibbling on his bottom lip to stop himself from something as 'pitiful' as crying. "shut up, i came here to rest, not to listen to your nonsense musings. i had enough of that already."

"well then," you reach out to his shoulder, gently directing him back on your lap. he faces you this time, eyes clenched tight to avoid looking at you, his only pillar in this world. he feels too light headed, whether if it's from your words or the feeling of finally resting after so many years of suffering, he's not too sure. he'd deny the former with everything he has though. but he cannot deny that he feels safe in your haven, here in the comfort of your arms.

"rest, you can think of the next step after you get some shuteye, don't make me knock you out myself."

he clicked his tongue, before it became quiet again.

this time, it's a comfortable silence. nothing like the tension from the first time you met him, nothing like the few times he spent quietly sobbing on your shoulder every time he awakes from a nightmare—nothing like the eerie quietude in the middle of the eye of the storm, waiting for the real disaster to come surging. soon, the boy falls asleep to the warm and loving touch on his head.

in the silence, you whisper words that you could not tell him.

"i would've gone through celestia and the abyss to give you a heart."

you, despite claiming that you will not baby him, held him in a way a parent would towards their child. with gentle hands and feathery touches, and a heart that you would give him if you could.

taglist: crossed out names mens i can't tag you oof

@thedianaclark @blockswon @thenyxsky @crazypriestess @someone-with-wild-imagination @koi-chairowo @shizunxie @smirpsmirp @brookeisqweer @mariataliya @saoiirsee @atsuki-mitsuri @camzpetite @fandangotales @genshinfinatic @chimsblogg @nette-yang @vienettacream @notyuki @shiragi2 @atsukawolfcat @frzenhans @kkazuyass @tartarsaucechi1de @nunontherun @a-simp-with-daddyissues @thetruepair

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werewolfsmile · 4 months

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The Eliot Spencer Details Masterpost

I have been recording details about our beloved Eliot Spencer on my latest watch through. And now, it's finally time to reveal the details!! If I have gotten any details INCORRECT, I beg of you to correct me, at which time, this post will be updated and credit given. (Note: S1 was aired out of chronological order. I am going by chronological episode numbers - aka the correct order - and providing the episode titles as well to minimise confusion.) !! This post contains details from Leverage: Redemption! Read the episode references carefully if you are wanting to avoid certain spoilers !!

Shirtless Moments

S1 E7 The Two-Horse Job: The flashback scene when Aimee asks Eliot what his excuse was for not coming back to her, we see him being dragged/tortured, shirtless. "Tell us what you did with the monkey!"

S2 E2 The Tap-Out Job: Eliot is shirtless for the fight match.

S4 E9 The Cross My Heart Job: Ehh he's not completely shirtless here but whatever. At about 16 mins in, Eliot and Parker are getting changed together, Eliot strips to a singlet then throws his shirt at me the camera. (I didn't include other scenes of Eliot in a singlet here because in this scene he's actively undressing, whereas in others he's not.)

Necklaces

The earliest sighting of his guitar pick necklace is S1 E2 The Homecoming Job. It continues to pop up frequently in episodes, though noticeably less in S1. I thought about recording every occurrence of it here but ... lmao it's in legit waaayyyy too many episodes for me to bother.

S2 E10 The Runway Job: Honourable mention of the necklaces Eliot wears with his fashion week outfit. The longer one is kinda dogtag-esque, the shorter one is ... I think it's a fleur de lis? He also wears a range of chain necklaces later in this episode.

S4 E18 The Last Dam Job: Bird pendant (possibly kingfisher) visible at 34 mins 39 seconds. Full credits to @wolves-in-the-world for this one including the time stamp! You can check out their reblog of this post with more details here!

Dammit Hardison

S1 E13 The Second David Job: The FIRST INSTANCE of dammit Hardison in the entire show! Said upon discovering each other in the gallery, around 4 mins 15 seconds.

S2 E1 The Beantown Bailout Job: Said around 22 mins 30 seconds, immediately following, "What are the odds that Eliot's crotch will actually explode?" Iconic.

S2 E6 The Top Hat Job: When setting up for the magic show and discovering the rabbit missing, roughly 19 mins 45 seconds.

S3 E3 The Inside Job: Running from security, around 31 mins 30 seconds.

S3 E4 The Scheherazade Job: Trying to enter McRory's at the same time, around 1 min 30 seconds.

S3 E5 The Double Blind Job: This is an honourable mention because this time NATE is the one to say dammit Hardison! 9 mins 15 seconds.

S3 E6 The Studio Job: Upon discovering the master tape isn't in the case, roughly 32 mins.

S3 E7 The Gone Fishin' Job: Eliot and Hardison running in the woods for their lives, arguing as always. This one is a bonus 'dammit' because Hardison says it straight back to Eliot after Eliot yells it at him! Around 21 mins.

S3 E12 The King George Job: Discussing Hardison's forgery work, followed by Eliot regretting touching anything. Around 23 mins 55 seconds.

S3 E13 The Morning After Job: Pretending to be cops and accidentally ending up with a prisoner to take back to jail, around 16 mins 20 seconds.

S3 E14 The Ho Ho Ho Job: Honourable mention of Chaos mocking Eliot by saying dammit Hardison. Roughly 21 mins 15 seconds.

(phew, S3 was rough on Hardison! given what Eliot was going through with the whole Moreau thing.... ooh that's delicious angst)

S4 E5 The Hot Potato Job: Honourable mention for Sophie saying it this time! While playing the role that was meant for Eliot, around 24 mins.

S4 E6 The Carnival Job: Mixing chemicals for a distraction, roughly 25 mins 30 seconds.

S4 E17 The Radio Job: Hardison running away from being thrown off a high floor, around 5 mins.

S4 E18 The Last Dam Job: Sneaking around at the Bellington Dam, roughly 13 mins 35 seconds.

S5 E1 The (Very) Big Bird Job: 'Accidentally' putting a brew pub menu in front of Eliot, around 10 mins 20 seconds.

S5 E15 The Long Goodbye Job: Emotional scene that we do not speak about, around 12 mins 40 seconds.

RS1 E1 The Too Many Rembrandts Job: After knocking Harry out and asking Hardison to help carry Harry, and Hardison refuses. 11 mins 40 seconds.

RS1 E2 The Panamanian Monkey Job: Upon discovering that security is headed to the vault where Parker is, and the only way down there is through the vents. Around 34 mins 10 seconds.

RS2 E1 The Debutante Job: We get 3! In this whole episode! Probably to make up for Hardison being gone for most of Redemption. Anyway! First one when Eliot and Hardison are in Ralphie Roy's place and Hardison has no idea who Ralphie is, around 23 mins 15 seconds. Second is when they're breaking into the elevator and Hardison won't help fight or move the unconscious guards, roughly 37 mins 40 seconds. And third, after the job when Parker says that Hardison was the one who took out all the guards. Around 45 mins 10 seconds.

RS2 E3 The Tournament Job: Right at the start after Eliot says gaming isn't a sport and Parker texts Hardison, so Hardison starts blowing up Eliot's phone. Lmao. Around 4 mins 20 seconds.

RS2 E4 The Date Night Job: After realising Breanna stole his truck, Eliot says dammit, then aims it at a grinning Hardison, since Breanna is already running away. Around 46 mins 50 seconds.

Dammit Parker

S1 E4 The Snow Job: Parker jumps out of a second floor window, Eliot catches her. 15 mins. (Parker gets a dammit from Eliot before Hardison does!!)

S3 E8 The Boost Job: Parker driving erratically, Eliot thrown around in back seat. (Technically there's a pause between dammit and Parker but I'm still including it) 35 min 35 seconds.

S5 E12 The White Rabbit Job: Searching the mark's house, Parker wants to steal a shirt. Again, this isn't technically a proper dammit Parker, as Eliot instead says, "Put it back! Dammit." But I'm still including it because it was aimed at her. 21 mins 20 seconds.

RS1 E9 The Bucket Job: Parker is pretending to be a hacker heavily modelled off Hardison. Not a proper dammit Parker as, again, Eliot only mutters "dammit" under his breath, but still counts to me. Just after 18 mins.

RS1 E10 The Unwellness Job: At end of episode, after Parker admits that she didn't even learn Eliot's name till after the team broke up the first time. 44 mins 30 seconds.

RS1 E13 The Hurricane Job: After washing up on shore and entering the Beacon Inn, Parker and Eliot are bickering about Maria. He doesn't strictly say dammit Parker but there's absolutely no doubt who he's directing the dammits towards. 3 mins 30 seconds.

RS2 E6 The Fractured Job: When farewelling Billy and Parker says next time she'll finish telling him about the robot bodies. Again, it's just dammit not dammit Parker but it's close enough. 41 mins.

RS2 E8 The Turkish Prisoner Job: Another standalone dammit that is most definitely aimed at Parker! When breaking Romero out, Parker says she's a firefighter (with far too much glee), around 14 mins 30 seconds.

RS2 E10 The Work Study Job: A full dammit Parker this time! When Parker reveals that it's super easy to steal from a university and produces a whole bunch of stuff, roughly 22 mins 40 seconds.

Very Distinctive Moments

S1 E2 The Homecoming Job: Eliot ID's the weapon from the gunshots, around 8 mins. Later, he ID's a guy off his knife fighting style, around 18 mins 50 seconds.

S2 E6 The Top Hat Job: ID's a CIA guy from his stance, roughly 7 mins 45 seconds.

S3 E11 The Rashomon Job: ID's the smell of peppermint on Hardison's breath, around 21 mins.

S3 E12 The King George Job: ID's former British paratroopers by their haircuts, 30 mins 10 seconds.

S4 E1 The Long Way Down Job: ID's a former spetsnaz guy by his footprint, 13 mins 45 seconds.

S4 E5 The Hot Potato Job: Honourable mention of Eliot ID'ing ex-military personnel by their stances, he just doesn't say very distinctive. 18 mins 50 seconds.

S4 E11 The Experimental Job: Honourable mention of Eliot ID'ing a helicopter by the whumpa-whumpa (there's 7 of them did you know). Around 7 mins.

S5 E3 The First Contact Job: ID's military satellite transmission by the static, 7 mins 20 seconds.

S5 E9 The Rundown Job: ID's a Navy Seal who enlisted between '90-'95 by his watch, around 16 mins.

RS1 E2 The Panamanian Monkey Job: ID's a drone (Breanna's) from the sound. 11 mins 50 seconds.

RS1 E3 The Rollin' On The River Job: ID's Russian mob by the tattoos, 36 mins 30 seconds.

RS1 E7 The Double-Edged Sword Job: Honourable mention for Maria ID'ing the way Eliot disarmed her gun, 7 mins 50 seconds.

RS2 E4 The Date Night Job: Eliot ID's a guy as not having a distinctive anything - which is what is so distinctive. 20 mins 40 seconds.

RS2 E13 The Crowning Achievement Job: ID's MI6 off their search pattern, 6 mins 50 seconds.

Known Family

S1 E6 The Miracle Job: When discussing Bibletopia, Eliot says his nephew would like it. This is the ONLY mention of a nephew in the entire show, Redemption included; nor is there any direct mention of a sibling beyond this (which leads me to believe that this nephew is actually the son of a close friend/cousin/military buddy, rather than a direct family relation, but that's just my headcanon).

S2 E3 The Order 23 Job: When talking to the abused boy, Randy, Eliot says he has an uncle named Randy.

S5 E11 The Low Low Price Job: Eliot's dad owned a hardware store and he wanted Eliot to take over one day. But Eliot wanted to get out of that small town, so he joined the service. Fought with his dad the night before he left and hasn't been back since. He goes back at the end of this episode and knocks - but his dad never answers the door 😭

RS1 E9 The Bucket Job: While interrogating/torturing Eliot with Red Haze, Bligh says that Eliot's dad's friend from Vietnam has invited Eliot to join them for Christmas. At the end of the episode, Eliot goes to join them for dinner, only to get a message from 'J' that his dad was a no show. This 'J' is widely accepted as Eliot's unknown sibling but that is incorrect! 'J' is Eliot's dad's buddy from Vietnam!

RS2 E6 The Fractured Job: The ultimate Eliot family backstory episode!! (if you haven't seen it yet and don't want spoilers, skip this one!) Eliot was adopted by a black couple, Billy and an unnamed woman, after being abandoned/surrendered at a hospital as a baby. His father was a war hero who got none of the glory and sustained a wound, ruining his civilian career path, so Billy never wanted Eliot to follow in his footsteps. Eliot loved the stories of his dad in the military so joined up to be like him. His mother died while Eliot was on an op and he couldn't get leave to come back for the funeral, deepening the rift between him and Billy. Ultimately, they reconcile, (Eliot says his dad was always a hero to him, Billy say's he's proud of Eliot, they hug), and I cry every time 😭❤️ [Edit: Eliot being a baby at the time of being found at the hospital and consequently brought home by his adopted mother is unconfirmed and my presumption. We have no clear info on his age at adoption. Thanks to @nival-kenival for picking that up!]

Phrases: Ain't

S1 E4 The Snow Job: Said to Nate, right before Nate tells him to go skip some rope.

S1 E9 The Stork Job: Says it twice while conning Irina.

S1 E10 The Juror #6 Job: Upon being told to go help Parker instead of watching a sports game, Eliot takes his beer back.

S2 E2 The Tap-Out Job: Discussing the fights the mark runs, says they ain't the UFC.

S2 E3 The Order 23 Job: Said right before threatening to throw Randy's abusive father over the railing of a stairwell.

S2 E4 The Fairy Godparents Job: Upon spotting a hitman sent to kill McSweeten and Taggart.

S2 E8 The Ice Man Job: After hearing Hardison call himself the Ice Man, says he won't bail him out when things go wrong.

S2 E9 The Lost Heir Job: While trying to get Parker to the court room and end up cut off by the police.

S2 E11 The Bottle Job: When Hardison wants help to clean up Nate's apartment and Eliot refuses.

S2 E14 The Three Strikes Job: When Nate says to meet outside the ballpark but Eliot refuses because now he's sucked into the sport.

S3 E3 The Inside Job: Twice while arguing with Hardison about how to rescue Parker, once when Parker offers him a lift down the stairwell with her on her harness rig and he refuses. This is the most he says ain't in a single episode!

S3 E7 The Gone Fishin' Job: Once when the militia try to make him kneel, later when the militia kid catches him and Hardison near the train tracks.

S3 E11 The Rashomon Job: When Sophie changes her story to mock Eliot's accent and mannerisms.

S3 E15 The Big Bang Job: When confronting Moreau with Hardison.

S4 E1 The Long Way Down Job: Upon arriving at the base camp and complaining to Nate.

S4 E7 The Grave Danger Job: When looking for a buried Hardison and hearing the sprinklers.

S4 E10 The Queen's Gambit Job: At the end, swearing revenge on Sterling.

S4 E12 The Office Job: Arguing with Hardison about Eliot's sandwich while searching the warehouse.

S4 E13 The Girls' Night Out Job: When trying to convince Nate to socialise at the very start.

S4 E14 The Boys' Night Out Job: Exactly the same as the previous episode, so this one barely counts.

S4 E17 The Radio Job: In the patent office, when trying to figure out who lured Nate into this situation. The same scene is used later as a flashback.

S4 E18 The Last Dam Job: Warning Nate of the consequences of taking a life with your own hands.

S5 E2 The Blue Line Job: When ambushed by Marko when leaving the ice rink.

S5 E9 The Rundown Job: Once when going to wring information on the hit out of Riley, once when Hardison steps on the trigger plate of the claymore.

S5 E13 The Corkscrew Job: First time talking to Betty about how Leonard's a jerk.

RS1 E1 The Too Many Rembrandts Job: Twice when ambushed by RIZ thugs in the warehouse.

RS1 E2 The Panamanian Monkey Job: Once when discussing Ryan Corbett at the start, once when refusing to let Hardison have a turn with the diamond-tipped drill.

RS1 E3 The Rollin' On The River Job: When warning Breanna to be certain of her calculations for how to get him and Parker out of the casino's vault.

RS1 E8 The Mastermind Job: Once when discussing hiring people to overthrow a government, once when discussing how they're going to do like 6 things at once, including saving Harry.

RS1 E9 The Bucket Job: Said twice while talking with Blanche, after Blanche helped rescue Eliot from RIZ.

RS1 E14 The Great Train Job: While digging through the tainted soil with Harry.

RS2 E1 The Debutante Job: When trying to get to Volkov's plane with Parker and seeing that two guards are in the way.

RS2 E5 The Walk In The Woods Job: Talking to Paul after rescuing Harry, who was pretending to be Eliot.

Fun fact: for every ain't that Eliot says, Hardison says at least two more. And that's too many for me to bother recording!

Phrases: Y'all

Never. Not even once.

Hardison, on the other hand, says y'all all the damn time - every season, multiple times, sometimes even multiple times in the same episode.

Honourable mention for Chaos saying y'all as an incorrect mockery of Eliot's accent in S3 E14 The Ho Ho Ho Job.

... Okay, okay! So Eliot says it a few times in Redemption! But only in ONE episode!

RS1 E1 The Too Many Rembrandts Job: Said 4 times when playing a character and convincing people to clear out of the auction house.

That's it.

Aliases

These are all the names that Eliot's gone by or used on cons that I could find, not just full blown aliases.

S1 E1 The Nigerian Job: Detective Lieutenant Carden (the scene with this alias was cut from a lot of versions of this episode)

S1 E4 The Snow Job: Vince Fetkey, Hans Von Schwesterkrank

S1 E7 The Two-Horse Job: Brad Mackie

S1 E9 The Stork Job: Dale

S1 E12 The First David Job: Professor Sinclair

S1 E13 The Second David Job: Professor/Dr Adam Sinclair

S2 E2 The Tap-Out Job: Kid Jones (on the fight match poster)

S2 E4 The Fairy Godparents Job: Coach Brewer

S2 E5 The Three Days Of The Hunter Job: Earl

S2 E9 The Lost Heir Job: Officer Hilts

S2 E10 The Runway Job: Julian

S2 E14 The Three Strikes Job: Roy Chappell

S3 E1 The Jailhouse Job: Dr Abernathy

S3 E2 The Reunion Job: Lloyd Hickey

S3 E4 The Scheherazade Job: Guy Hamilton

S3 E5 The Double Blind Job: Phil

S3 E6 The Studio Job: Kenneth Crane

S3 E7 The Gone Fishin' Job: Agent Quint

S3 E8 The Boost Job: Skeeter

S3 E9 The Three-Card Monte Job: Detective Moffat

S3 E10 The Underground Job: Eric

S3 E11 The Rashomon Job: Dr Wes Abernathy

S3 E16 The San Lorenzo Job: Ray Laroque

S4 E2 The Ten Li'l Grifters Job: Charlie Siringo

S4 E4 The Van Gogh Job: Lieutenant (only granting him this one because CK played him in the flashback)

S4 E5 The Hot Potato Job: Tom Boonen

S4 E12 The Office Job: Mr Dennis

S4 E14 The Boys' Night Out Job: Luigi

S4 E15 The Lonely Hearts Job: Jackson Cooper

S4 E16 The Gold Job: Tobias Bowden

S4 E17 The Radio Job: Cowboy (*cough* John McClane *cough*)

S5 E2 The Blue Line Job: Jacques "Jack" Labert

S5 E3 The First Contact Job: Willie Riker

S5 E5 The Gimme A K Street Job: Steven Turner

S5 E6 The DB Cooper Job: DB Cooper/Young Steve Reynolds (again, technically not an alias but whatever it's here anyway)

S5 E7 The Real Fake Car Job: Barry McElroy

S5 E11 The Low Low Price Job: Archer

S5 E14 The Toy Job: Carl

Honourable mentions of Eliot being called: "Rambo" by Hardison in S1 E2 The Homecoming Job [thanks @independent-fics for this!]; "Emeril" by Parker in S1 E3 The Wedding Job [thanks @aardvaark for this one!]; "Sparky" by Parker in S1 E10 The Juror #6 Job and by Tara in S2 E15 The Maltese Falcon Job; and "Skippy" by Hardison in S3 E7 The Gone Fishin' Job.

RS1 E1 The Too Many Rembrandts Job: Will Gallagher

RS1 E6 The Card Game Job: Glenn the Savage

RS1 E7 The Double-Edged Sword: Emmett Milbarge

RS1 E8 The Mastermind Job: Frank Farmer

RS1 E10 The Unwellness Job: Hank

RS1 E12 The Golf Job: Reed Wilkins

RS1 E13 The Hurricane Job: Calvin

RS1 E15 The Muddy Waters Job: Armus Vagra

RS2 E7 The Big Rig Job: Kris

RS2 E8 The Turkish Prisoner Job: Nick O'Brien

RS2 E10 The Work Study Job: New Blood, Caterpillar

Honourable mention of Eliot being called "Skipper" by Hardison in RS1 E16 The Harry Wilson Job.

Known Associates

This is in direct reference to hitters/people from the criminal world that Eliot knew or was aware of prior to the Leverage Team. Quinn is not included in this list due to that distinction (sorry Quinn).

S1 E3 The Wedding Job: The Butcher of Kiev

S2 E7 The Two Live Crew Job: Mikel Dayan

S3 E11 The Rashomon Job: Gutman

S3 E15 The Big Bang Job: Chapman, Damien Moreau

S3 E16 The San Lorenzo Job: Damien Moreau

S4 E4 The Van Gogh Job: Frank, Randall

S4 E6 The Carnival Job: Roper

S5 E4 The French Connection: Rampone

S5 E9 The Rundown Job: Riley

Trivia

S2 E6 The Top Hat Job: Eliot claims he only sleeps 90 minutes a day, and that he cured his claustrophobia as a kid by locking himself in the woodshed behind his house for a couple nights.

S3 E6 The Studio Job: Eliot is nervous to perform in front of an audience, to the point that Parker startles him and she's surprised that she did. Interesting to note that he seems to have no issue playing sport in front of crowds.

S3 E7 The Gone Fishin' Job: Eliot says he hates beets.

S4 E5 The Hot Potato Job: Eliot chews gum. He does this throughout a LOT of episodes across the seasons but I've only noted down this one episode for it.... thanks, past me 🙄 [Edit: thanks @nival-kenival for more info! Another confirmed episode is S1 E2 The Homecoming Job, and S3 E13 The Morning After Job!]

S4 E9 The Cross My Heart Job: Eliot says he fought a guy with a Nerf sword in Damascus, 2002.

S5 E11 The Low Low Price Job: Eliot drives an F-150 to his dad's house in Oklahoma. This is a THIRD vehicle that apparently belongs to Eliot, in addition to the Chevrolet Silverado and Dodge Challenger we see in other episodes. The F-150 is not seen again.

S5 E12 The White Rabbit Job: Eliot has 'special sedatives' aka a little psychotropic he picked up outside of Bogota.

Eliot mostly walks at the back of the group, presumably to be the rear guard and make sure no one falls behind. See ... just about every damn episode for evidence.

RS1 E3 The Rollin' On The River Job: Parker says that Eliot has cut his way out of an ice cave, escaped a gorilla enclosure, and catered a wedding for the mob.

Eliot is seen wearing glasses throughout various episodes. A flashback in S1 E1 The Nigerian Job shows him wearing presumably his own glasses. All other instances of him wearing glasses (that I can think of) are when he takes someone's glasses for a con. It is unconfirmed if Eliot actually needs glasses to correct his eyesight or not, but is a fandom headcanon. In S3 E1 The Jailhouse Job there is an interaction where Nate ribs Eliot for taking so long in a fight, and Eliot says it's because of new glasses. An argument could be made that this means Eliot does require glasses. [Thanks @independent-fics for picking this up - for pretty much all the details pertaining to Eliot's glasses!]

And there you have it! All the details that I've spent the last 3 months collecting!! Now it's time for me to take a good, long break because my brain is fried! 😂

Once again, let me know if you find any errors so I can update the post. Data from Redemption S2 is where I've most likely missed things, since I don't have it on DVD and it's sooo much harder to scrub through streaming footage to find things. When will they release RS2 on DVD I need itttt.

If you've made it this far, thanks for reading! I hope this post can be a helpful reference for you!

#eliot spencer #leverage #leverage redemption #the eliot spencer details masterpost #meta #does this count as meta??? ah who cares.#christian kane #parker leverage #alec hardison #nate ford #sophie devereaux #my posts #reference #not everything has time stamps because i could. not. be. bothered.#just the stuff i figured i'd use the most #and ngl i started researching when he says 'y'all' because i often see it included in fics and i was like... eliot would not say that #not trying to have a go at anyone i just had to prove it for myself #this has been a labour of love #emphasis on the LABOUR #no more laptop time for a while #i'll be sticking to my phone thanks #oh and if anyone has details that they want to add on go for it!#this is an official leverage fandom resource #i was originally gonna add photos and/or gifs to this but lmao no #it's enough of a monster as is #time to post

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cantstoptheimagines · 1 year

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Hunger (Carmy Berzatto | The Bear)

Summary — Things boil over between you and Carmy.

Warnings & Other Tags ➳ Smut (including a lowkey ‘Chef’ kink, Reader being referred to as ‘good girl’, also like one mention of birth control); Carmy mentions never having a girlfriend, so I’m rolling with that (aka Never-Been-Kissed!Virgin!Carmy is upon us!!); a little bit of angst on the side; mentions of childhood trauma and resulting body insecurities (Carmy); cursing (especially the canon-typical ‘Fuck!’); coworkers to lovers with a touch of idiots in love; some typical Original Beef arguments in the kitchen (including Carmy getting put in his place after being extremely mean); Reader accidentally gets burned by hot food; Reader is a waitress with an attitude; my attempts at casual, non-flowery, awkward, quiet conversation between Carmy and the Reader, so please don’t come after me if it sucks, lmao.

Notes ➳ Word Count is 7,942. This is a slow, slow, slow burn! Enjoy it, baby! ➳ Reader uses feminine pronouns (she/her). ➳ This is slightly inspired by the chaos of Season 1, Episode 7. I also want to add that this draft was started before the release of Season 2, so absolutely no spoilers in this one!

Everything was a complete mess. An expected lunch rush had sent everything and everyone at The Beef into chaos.

You had a line of customers waiting on takeout orders while others were hoping for a table to open up. Some had immediately turned around at the door after seeing the crowd.

Richie stood behind the counter, trying his best to keep up. He gave you a nod as you cleared another table. The fake, ‘customer service’ smile on your face fell as soon as you left the dining room and entered the kitchen. Angel and Manny were both instantly by your side, taking the dishes from your arms.

Your sigh of relief, however, didn’t last long. As soon as you turned, you were met by Sydney, who shoved a dish at you, shouting, “Hands! Once that’s out, I need you to come back for a sandwich and a salad!”

You barely caught the plate, replying, “Heard!”

The plate was warm against your hands. The food, however, was burning hot when it flew off the dish and onto your exposed skin as someone interrupted your cry of, “Corner—!”

The plate shattered once it hit the floor, covering the tile in a mess of food. Sauce dripped down your clothes and practically seared your flesh. Amidst the hectic kitchen, only Sydney seemed to notice. She stared at you with a shocked expression as tears welled up in your eyes from the pain.

“—fucking going?!”

You blinked, clutching your blistering hand. You could already feel your skin becoming overly tender. Tears began to slide down your cheeks. Nearby, Tina had paused to see what the commotion was about with concerned eyes.

In front of you stood Carmy. Out of everyone who worked at The Beef, he was the person you were closest to. However, that didn’t mean he wasn’t an asshole sometimes, especially when the restaurant was busy like today.

Your eyebrows furrowed, and then you quietly asked, “What?”

The flaring pain you were feeling made it almost impossible to focus on what anyone was saying or doing. Carmy’s words, on the other hand, were loud and clear as he took a step closer and shouted, “I asked if you can watch where you’re fucking going?!”

Your cheeks were wet with tears, which you couldn’t stop from falling, no matter how hard you blinked. Carmy was toe-to-toe with you. He was so close that you could see the sweat on his skin and the red flush of his cheeks. His teeth were gritted as he stared at you with fiery eyes.

“Carmy,” you took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment, “don’t yell at me.”

He came even closer, shoes nearly slipping on the sauce that covered the tile. You avoided meeting his gaze as you continued holding your injured hand. Thankfully, the other one wasn’t as bad, though it still ached.

“Why the fuck not, huh?!” he continued. “Open your damn eyes next time—!”

“Carmy, stop!” you demanded. “I’m hurting right now and you’re not helping—!”

“Maybe you wouldn’t be if you used your fucking brain!” he snapped, taking two fingers and harshly tapping them against your temple.

You tried to take a step back, only for him to follow. You pressed your lips together in an effort to contain yourself. Sure, you were used to Carmy’s regular outbursts, but this was on a whole other level.

His nose brushed against yours with how close he was standing. Sydney reached out, placing an arm between the two of you, though it wasn’t much help. Tina was slowly coming closer. Everyone else in the kitchen had stopped working to cautiously watch the scene. Even Richie had paused service in the front to stand in the kitchen doorway, ready to step in if he needed to.

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that, Carmy—!”

“I’ll do whatever I fucking want—!”

Richie finally spoke up, “Hey, cousin, leave ‘er alone, alright—?”

“I’m gonna fuck you up if don’t get outta my face—!”

Sydney was beginning to sweat, “Chef! Please calm down—!”

“If you can’t handle the heat, stay out of my fucking kitchen—!”

SLAP!

“¡Ay, mierda!” exclaimed Tina, mouth agape as your uninjured hand suddenly struck Carmy’s cheek.

The silence that took over was almost deadly. Carmy licked his lips and clenched his jaw. His cheek was already turning bright red with your handprint. A million thoughts ran through his mind as he stared at you.

“If you don’t have anything nice to say to me,” you glared, “then don’t fucking talk, Carmen! You can fuck off instead!”

Carmy kissed his teeth, refusing to open his mouth. Instead, he watched as you whipped around and stormed away from him. You were once again holding your injured hand, in which the pain was only growing worse by the second, as you disappeared around a corner without looking back.

Carmy closed his eyes and ran his hands over his face. He didn’t even need to look at the expressions of his coworkers’ faces to know that he had fucked up big time.

His eyes met Sydney’s as he tugged at his thick hair. She, however, only turned away and returned to calling out orders after shaking her head. Richie, meanwhile, gave him the finger before going back to the front to continue lunch service. Everyone else in the kitchen either gave him harsh glares or stares of disappointment.

“Chef!” he called out, gaining Sydney’s attention. “I’ll be back in a few!”

Sydney slowly nodded, “Heard!”

Carmy glanced down, looking at the mess that covered the kitchen tile, along with his work shoes. Pieces of the shattered plate were spread about as well.

“I’ll clean this up when I get back,” he said, gesturing to the floor.

“Heard!” repeated Sydney, though Carmy could tell she wished he would just leave already.

“Thank you, Chef,” he muttered.

As he passed by Marcus, the usually kind pastry chef glared at him, “You’re a real mess, Berzatto.”

Carmy sighed, slowly making his way around the same corner you disappeared behind only moments ago, “Tell me about it.”

Ebra shouted after him with a bark of laughter, “We don’t have to! You’re gonna find out when you go back there!”

Carmy rolled his eyes, turning the knob on the door that led to the back lot. That was where everyone, including you, disappeared whenever they needed to be alone.

He immediately spotted you sitting on the ground with the restaurant’s first aid kit in front of you. The injury on your hand was now covered with some burn relief gel.

You barely even glanced in his direction when the door closed behind him. The air outside was rather cold and Carmy could see the chills that covered your skin.

He nervously wrapped his hands in the hem of his apron, and then cleared his throat, “I’m sorry.”

“Whatever,” you shook your head.

He paused, unsure of what he should say next as he blinked a few times. Finally, he licked his lips and stared down at his shoes, “Are you—uh—are you okay? I mean, you’re good?”

You scoffed quietly, shaking your head with a sardonic smile as you finished wrapping your injury with some gauze, “No, Carmy, I’m not good. Fucking asshole.”

Carmy took a deep breath, nodding slowly, “Yeah, yeah, alright. I deserve that. You—uh—gonna go early? Home, I mean? Go home early?”

You slammed the first aid kit closed, the latch snapping into place with a click! Standing up, you shoved it into Carmy’s arms, causing him to grunt at the impact against his chest.

“Yes,” you said, “I’m going fucking home early.”

He groaned as you pushed past him to go back inside. He slowly trailed behind you, watching you collect your coat and keys. He grimaced at the loud SLAM! of your employee locker. He knew everyone in the kitchen secretly had their ears open, each of them trying to figure out how badly Carmy had messed things up with you.

As you tried to slip past him once more, he reached out to place an arm across your front. He remained facing the empty room of employee lockers while you were facing the kitchen, forced to endure the cautious eyes of your coworkers.

With a sigh, you finally turned your gaze to him, unsure of what to make of his actions, “What?”

“Go to the doctor, alright?” he muttered, eyes gliding over your features.

Everything was much calmer now. Everyone in the kitchen seemed to have finally cleared out some of the crowd, leaving only a few stragglers. Each of them took an occasional glance at the two of you.

You bit your bottom lip. You couldn’t help but be fully aware of the way Carmy’s startling blue eyes suddenly dropped to focus on your mouth. And you definitely couldn’t stop your own gaze from doing the same, admiring the soft pink shade of his lips.

Maybe it was wrong to be so attracted to your boss. But when your boss was Carmy, you didn’t really care. And there were times, like now, when it felt as though he didn’t care either.

Sure, he could be a real asshole sometimes, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t easy on the eyes. Your eyes, more specifically.

“Yo, cousin, we’ve got—! Oh!”

Carmy finally tore his stare away from you, and said, “Just a sec, Richie.”

“Yeah,” nodded Richie, tossing his hands into the air. “Yeah, sure. Didn’t mean to interrupt... whatever this is.”

Carmy rolled his eyes before finally returning his attention to you. His stare softened and his fingers dug into the clothing that covered your hip with a gentle squeeze.

“Doctor,” he whispered, “‘kay?”

You finally muttered, “Okay, Bear.”

Carmy gave you a nod, heart pounding when he heard his nickname fall from your lips. Your hip received a few pats and a gentle rub before his arm disappeared from your path. As you walked away, he finally turned to face everyone in the kitchen, all of whom had their eyes on him.

“Well,” he said, running a hand through his hair, “get back to fucking work!”

At the same time, he could hear you ordering Richie, who had followed you to the front, to ‘shut his fucking mouth’.

You unlocked the back entrance of The Beef. It was way past closing time and each of your coworkers had already gone home. In fact, you had only come back to get the tips you had left behind after your argument and semi-reconciliation with Carmy.

You flicked on one set of smaller lights before making your way through the kitchen and into the front room. Richie always cashed out your tips for you before his shift over and tonight was no different. On the counter, right next to the register, you found a wad of cash and a sticky note with your name on it.

Unfortunately, you were too focused on counting out the money to notice someone appear in the doorway. That is, until they spoke, “Hey.”

You gasped in surprise, clutching at your chest in a failed attempt to stop your pounding heart, “Fuck! Are you trying to kill me?!”

Carmy smiled down at his feet as he leaned against the kitchen’s door frame. He watched you shove your tips into the pocket of your heavy coat. He nodded towards your hand, and asked, “Rent due?”

You nodded back, “Yeah. Tomorrow morning.”

He hummed quietly, “See a doctor?”

“Yeah,” you replied. “Gave me some stuff to put on it. They said it should be good in a week or two. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it was gonna be.”

“Right,” he said, twisting the hem of his apron around his hands.

He watched your eyes drift to where his fingers wrapped themselves in the blue fabric. The realization that the two of you were alone, without the stress of your loud coworkers or a line of customers, overwhelmed him.

“You do that a lot, ya know,” you said, gesturing to his hands, “when you’re nervous and stuff.”

He shuffled awkwardly, shook his head, and then shrugged, “Hard not to be. We cool?”

Your eyebrows furrowed. One of Carmy’s hands rose to his lips, allowing him to anxiously bite his nails, while the other disappeared into his pocket. The soft glow coming from the back of the kitchen made him look like an angel.

A tired, fidgety, nervous wreck of an angel.

It was hard for him to breathe when you suddenly moved closer and closer until you stood mere inches away from him. He stared at your hand that untucked itself from your coat pocket. Yet, it wasn’t until you gently wrapped your fingers around his forearm, tugging his hand away from his nail-biting habit, that he knew it was over for him.

“Carmy?”

Fuck.

“Yeah?”

His mind flashed back to all the times Richie had caught him staring at you and made fun of him for doing so.

And how after Sydney had first met you, she turned to him after you had walked away and quietly asked if you were his girlfriend.

And the way Tina almost beat his ass earlier for shouting at you so viciously after everyone else had left for the night, leaving him to wallow alone in his office.

Or the way he couldn’t stop his eyes from drifting to your lips while your hand gently rubbed his arm, listening closely as you whispered, “We’re cool.”

“Good,” he muttered.

Your lips parted with a soft, shuddering gasp. Slowly, Carmy had tilted his head and began leaning in. Your grip on him tightened just as his free hand untucked itself from his pocket. His palm slid under your coat and landed on the same hip he had held earlier that day.

His nose brushed against yours. His fingers dug into you, splayed out against your clothed waist. His eyes slowly fell shut as did yours. After that, it didn’t take long before your lips met his.

You could feel the warmth of his cheeks when you placed your palms against them. You pulled him closer until you could wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, intertwining your fingers in his hair.

Carmy’s lips moved against yours tentatively. His other hand slowly slipped beneath your coat to caress your back. He groaned at the feeling of you gently scratching his scalp as your fingers ran through his hair.

Slowly, he pulled away, but only slightly. Your hands dropped to his shoulders and then traveled along his strong arms before finally wrapping around his waist. His apron loosened when you tugged at the strings.

Carmy felt his cheeks warm as he allowed you to remove the blue fabric from his body. He watched it fall to the floor and then made an effort to copy your movements, gently pushing your coat off your shoulders before letting it join his apron.

He sighed softly when you pressed your lips against his in a series of short, gentle kisses, “I’ve—uh—I’ve never…”

He trailed off quietly, feeling slightly embarrassed. Richie had always given him shit for being a virgin. But Carmy had gone through life without friends, let alone girlfriends.

“Carmy?”

His lip quivered when his eyes met yours again. He was surprised to find your gaze void of judgment. Instead, you gave him a small smile and gently pressed your hands into his lower back. He hummed quietly when you repeated his name.

Glancing at his lips, you murmured, “Do you want to?”

Despite the millions of thoughts running through his mind, he was still very clear, albeit quiet, with his answer, “With you? Yeah.”

You nodded silently. One of your hands gently pushed some of his thick, messy hair behind his ear. His eyes fell closed at the feeling.

“Was that your first kiss?”

“You gonna laugh at me if it was?” he asked.

You smiled at the way his cheeks flushed with red, and replied, “‘Course not. It’s like that for lots of people.”

He licked his lips, opening his eyes. His fingertips went deeper into your hips. Fuck, you were being so nice to him.

“It was,” he confessed. “That was my first kiss. I’ve never done any of it. Dates, girlfriends, none of it.”

“Okay,” you said, still allowing your fingers to trace through his hair. “You still want to?”

He paused, eyes exploring your features, “Yeah.”

“We can stop any time you want,” you said. “Don’t be afraid to tell me if you’re uncomfortable.”

Carmy licked his lips again, hooded eyes drifting to your mouth. Slowly, he nodded and pressed his forehead against yours. His eyes closed and your noses brushed. He could his heart pounding in his chest, briefly wondering if you could as well as he collided his lips with yours once again.

His fingers delved deeper into your hips. Your hands, meanwhile, tugged at his thick hair, forcing a grunt out of him. He was surprised by how much he liked the feeling.

Pulling away, though not far enough to avoid the kisses that were now being pressed onto his jaw, Carmy quietly gasped for air, head tilting back as he asked, “Can we go to my office?”

He felt you nod against him in response. He then tugged you along in the direction of his office, biting his lip at the feeling of your mouth on his warm skin. He turned the two of you so that he could see where he was going. Not that doing so was much help since his eyes began fluttering at the feeling of a gentle bite sinking into the flesh of his neck.

One of his hands left your hip momentarily. His palm gripped at one of the metal counters in the kitchen, barely steadying himself. He was nearly tripping over his own feet, distracted by the pleasure you were already sending throughout his body.

His hand quickly left the countertop. It found a new place on the back of your neck, but only after the two of you finally made it into his office, where he immediately pulled you into another kiss.

Slowly, your hands disappeared from his hair, opting to slip beneath the fabric of his shirt and gently scratch his back instead. You smiled against his lips, nearly breaking the kiss, upon noticing him shiver at the feeling. He practically arched into you, both of his hands moving to your cheeks in order to deepen the kiss.

His white shirt complimented the golden chain around his neck. It was something you had seen him wear plenty of times. And for Carmy, he wasn’t sure if he wanted that to change just yet.

He paused when you began to slide his shirt up, obviously preparing to remove it from his body. He gently wrapped his hands around your forearms to stop you. His lips then moved away from yours. His head ducked as he cleared his throat, avoiding your concerned gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, eyes beginning to burn. “I’m—uh—It’s just—I don’t—I don’t think—! Shit, I’m sorry! Sorry! Sorry—!”

“Hey, hey, hey,” you interrupted, gently wiping away any tears that had started to make an appearance on his cheeks. “It’s okay. You’re okay, Carmy.”

He sniffled, cheeks warming with embarrassment, upon having felt your hands withdraw from underneath his shirt. His breathing had quickened, along with his heartbeat.

Carmy hid his face against your neck when one of your arms wrapped around him. You softly rubbed the space between his shoulders. Your other hand gently stroked the back of his head, fingers running through his hair once more. Meanwhile, his hands had dropped to your ribs in an effort to steady himself again.

“We can stop—”

He interrupted you within seconds, shaking his head as he finally met your eyes, “No. I don’t want to. I—uh—I’m just—my childhood wasn’t the best, ya know? Parents were always fightin’ over stupid shit. And sometimes, my dad—well, he—uh—he’d take some of it out on us—”

“Oh, Carmy,” you whispered, leaning your forehead against his.

He continued, caressing your ribs with his thumbs, “He didn’t do it a lot, but, ya know, my back’s kinda, like, got scars and stuff.”

Pulling him closer, you nodded, still allowing him to lead the conversation, “Okay. Okay.”

“I promise I wanna do this,” he sniffled again before taking a deep sigh, “but I wanna keep my shirt on. For now anyway. For this time.”

You nodded again, giving him a small smile and lightly tracing the variety of small freckles on his cheeks, “Of course. Anything you want.”

Carmy hesitantly met your eyes. The startling ocean blue sent chills down your spine, especially when he muttered, “God, you’re so fucking sweet.”

He didn’t give you a chance to reply. Instead, his hands traveled to your back and pushed you against him in a quick, unwavering motion. He groaned at the feeling of your fingertips imprinting themselves into the fabric of his shirt. His lips moved against yours in yet another heated kiss, though this one was much more desperate than the others had been.

In that moment, as your hands wandered along his clothed back, venturing to the waistband of his pants, Carmy could picture himself falling in love with you.

In the space between your kisses, gasps of air escaped your throat, “Let me make you feel good, Bear.”

Carmy nodded. His lower back gently collided with the edge of his desk. He watched as you slowly undid his pants. He groaned and his cheeks flushed red at the sight of you lowering to your knees. One of his hands shifted to grip his desk while the other raked through his hair.

Before he knew it, his pants were pooling around his ankles and his hard-on was showing prominently through his briefs. His head tilted back and his gaze met the ceiling as your fingers delved into the waistband of the fabric covering his throbbing cock.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered, closing his eyes.

“Carmy?” your quiet voice cut through the tension. “You still okay?”

“I’m fucking perfect,” he whispered. “Please keep going.”

Your amusement was obvious. Carmy hissed when your smiling lips met the flesh of his stomach. He slightly tugged up the hem of his shirt in order to give you more access to his briefs, trying to prepare himself for his first blowjob ever.

The hand that had been in his hair quickly entangled itself in your own. His briefs were slowly being removed with every kiss you gave his skin, your movements trailing lower and lower with every passing second. You stopped at the last possible moment, pulling away and giving a final tug at his briefs.

At last, they fell, finding their place around Carmy’s ankles, alongside his pants. He couldn’t help but watch as his cock sprang free, nearly slapping against his stomach. You eyed it for a moment, licking your lips at the sight of the dark vein on the side and the way it curved slightly to the left.

Carmy took your pause for negativity. His thumb softly caressed your temple as he murmured, “You alright—? Oh, shit!”

He was suddenly on cloud nine. Fire burned in his chest. Both of his hands moved to tightly grip the back of your neck. One of your hands grasped onto his tense forearm while the other held his cock. Your tongue traced over the vein that you had been admiring.

His eyes closed and his head tilted back. He could feel you smiling as you pressed a kiss against his cock’s mushroom-shaped head. Your lips trailed along his length until you reached his balls.

“Fuck!” he groaned, mouth falling open.

The way your tongue lapped at his balls while your hand stroked his swollen length set his stomach on fire. He could feel a layer of sweat beginning to appear on his forehead.

You were a fucking god. And Carmy felt ready to worship you.

Suddenly, you were at the head of his cock again, slowly taking him into your warm mouth. Carmy looked down to watch it happen and nearly came at the sight of you.

Your lips stretched around him. His hands moved to be on either side of your face, gently caressing your temples with the pads of his thumbs. Both of your palms wrapped around his bare thighs.

Carmy hissed at the feeling of his cock disappearing into your mouth as you began bobbing your head along his length. Though when he felt you fondle his balls with a sudden squeeze, he couldn’t stop an abrupt buck of his hips.

You gagged when the head of his cock hit the back of your throat. He furrowed his eyebrows, concerned, as you pulled away, gasping for air. He wiped away the saliva that had built up at the corners of your lips, “Shit! You okay? I didn’t—I didn’t mean to do that!”

You sniffed, laughing as you brushed off the small tears that came from your eyes, “Yeah, I’m good.”

Unsure of what to say, Carmy nodded silently. He continued tracing your temples in an effort to comfort you, trying to ignore his cock, which continued to throb between his legs. Meanwhile, you rubbed at his thighs, still trying to catch your breath.

“Hey, hey,” he muttered, tilting your head upwards to meet his gaze, “you sure you’re alright?”

Your eyebrows rose, your fingertips dug into his flesh, and then you smiled, “I’m fine. But Carm?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re fucking huge.”

And in yet another wave of shyness, Carmy couldn’t stop the blush that appeared on his face. You chuckled, leaning forward to kiss the space above his pelvis, slowly wrapping a hand around his cock once more. Your eyes remained on him as his lips fell open and moans escaped his chest.

“Hey?” you muttered.

He watched as you leaned against his stomach, resting your chin atop the fabric of his shirt to stare up at him. He shivered at the way your pupils grew. They nearly overtook your irises, leaving only a sliver of their nature shade.

“Yeah?”

Your teeth dug into your lower lip. Carmy admired the glow that had overwhelmed your skin. He shuddered when your hand tugged particularly hard at his cock.

“Can you fuck my face, Chef?” you whispered. “I want your cock down my throat ‘til I can’t breathe.”

“Fuck,” he muttered, thumbs softly caressing your cheeks. “You sure? I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you breathed. “I want you to feel good, Carmy.”

He hissed at the sudden feeling of your tongue once again tracing over his length. The head of his cock was then repeatedly kissed in a soothing pattern. One of his hands moved to tightly grip the edge of his desk. The other continued smoothing over the skin of your cheek as you took him back into your mouth.

With a hand on his thigh and the other shifting to wrap around his forearm, you slowly dragged his hand to the back of your neck. Carmy panted heavily at the feeling of his hard cock sinking deeper into your throat. He successfully held back his quivering hips, not wanting to accidentally choke you a second time.

His fingers dug into your skin, his mouth fell open, and heat rose beneath his skin. He looked down to find you with nearly his entire cock in your mouth. The sensation of your tongue swirling around him made him want to cum on the spot. And he nearly did so when your lips finally met the base of his cock.

Your nose dug into his pelvis. He then felt the mushroom-shaped head of his cock reach the back of your throat, only you didn’t pull away for a fresh burst of air this time. He caressed the back of your neck in an effort to ease the tension.

Tears welled in the corners of your eyes, soaking your eyelashes. You were doing your best to breathe through your nose. His grip on you tightened when your eyes suddenly looked up at him.

The sight of you staring at him with tear-filled eyes and your lips stretched around his cock made him curse. Both hands quickly returned to your face so he could brush away the glistening tears. After admiring your flushed appearance, he muttered, “You ready?”

He took the moan you let out around his length as confirmation. The vibrations of it, along with the way your fingers were now tightly grasping at the backs of his thighs in preparation, made him hiss with pleasure.

He groaned at the wet sounds of your mouth as he began gently thrusting in and out of your throat. He cursed repeatedly, especially when you continued to moan around him. Upon seeing you shut your eyes, however, he patted your cheek to bring your focus back to him.

He smiled down at you when you met his gaze, “Eyes on me, alright? You’re makin’ me feel so—ah!—good right now. Oh, fuck! You’re fucking amazing, ya know that? Oh!”

Heat was growing in the pit of your stomach when you realized how much pleasure you were giving him. You could feel yourself becoming wetter and wetter by the second.

You couldn’t help but gag around him when he suddenly gave a rough thrust. You were sure his thighs would have finger-shaped bruises by the end of the night with how strong your grip on him was.

Carmy’s thrusts were picking up pace. He tossed his head back, eyes shut tight and his mouth agape with silent moans. You wanted him to fuck your face? Then he would do exactly that.

He repeatedly shoved you down to the base of his cock. With every thrust of his hips, he felt his balls slap against you. The sounds of you practically gasping for air as you choked on his length made him shiver with a blissful expression.

“Fuck!” he groaned. “So fucking good! You’re perfect, ya know?”

His moans continued. The echoes of his cock pumping in and out of your mouth caused warmth to slowly build up within the pit of his stomach. With a few final thrusts, he pressed himself as deep as he could into your throat.

You choked around the sudden release of cum that flooded your mouth. Your eyes squeezed shut as Carmy pressed you further onto his length. Your nose dug into the skin of his pelvis and you were slowly losing the ability to breathe.

Carmy grunted, now gazing down at you with heavily lidded eyes, as his cock released thick, white ropes of his cum. He huffed in an effort to regain his breath. You, however, made that difficult with each and every time you swallowed around him, taking in all of his cum without a second thought.

His cock was still hard when you finally pulled away. Your tongue ran over the tip while one of your hands moved to stroke his length. Before you could send him tumbling into overstimulation, Carmy tugged you upwards.

His lips met yours in a searing kiss, barely able to keep hold of you between heavy pants. You could practically feel his confidence finally starting to bloom within him.

Twirling in order to switch your positions, you tugged him closer, urging him to help you onto his messy desk. He quickly did so after reaching out to shove aside what seemed like a million unorganized papers. They fell to the floor, some even crumpling beneath his shoes as he stepped on them.

His large, tattooed hands slipped beneath your shirt as he moaned at the feeling of your lips against his neck. He grasped onto the back of your bra and tugged... to no avail. Thankfully, you didn’t seem to notice.

His face flushed red, especially when your clothed thighs squeezed closer to his hips. His cock began to throb as it met the covered space between your legs, desperate and eager for what was to come.

Carmy furrowed his eyebrows and tried a second time to unclasp your bra. When it refused to budge, he couldn’t help but curse. And he nearly let out another when your affections came to a pause.

Your kisses slowed. Pressing one against his ear, you whispered, “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he replied.

You tried not to laugh when you felt another tug, “Carm? D’you need help?”

He cursed a little louder. You bit down on your bottom lip, trying to conceal a grin as you tucked your face into the crevice of his shoulder. When he confirmed your suspicions, you leaned away and did your best to give him a warm, comforting smile. You unhooked your bra and removed it from beneath your shirt with ease, tossing it aside.

Carmy’s expression shifted into one of frustration, though his eyes shined with a bit of awe, “How the fuck did you do that?”

Your hands ran over his shoulders as you asked, “Really wanna have that conversation right now?”

He paused for a moment, seemingly taking some time to think over your words, “Fuck no.”

You allowed yourself to laugh that time, “Then come here.”

Carmy found it difficult to breathe when you tugged him closer. The scent of your shampoo fogged his mind as he hid your face against your neck. Your hands guided his, leading them beneath your shirt. He let out a deep sigh when his palms met the warmth of your skin.

As his hands began tentatively exploring your breasts, he tried to ease his nerves by layering a series of open-mouthed kisses against the column of your throat. Meanwhile, you busied yourself with undoing your pants.

“You have big hands, Carm,” you muttered, leaning your cheek against his messy head of hair as he indulged him in his affections.

Big, warm, tattooed hands. His thumbs ran over your nipples occasionally as he gently squeezed you. His fingers dug into the plush of your skin.

Despite having little room with the way Carmy was leaning against you, you managed to push your pants off your waist, shifting your hips in order to do so. As he continued palming at your breasts, he flushed a deeper shade of red, thankful his face was still hidden from your view.

“Is that a good thing?” he questioned. “Big hands?”

He felt you nod in response, “It’s hot.”

In more ways than one, he believed, due to the heat building up in his stomach. His forehead had developed a thin layer of sweat as well. He followed your lead when you directed his hands to your hips instead. When his fingertips met the hem of your underwear, he inhaled sharply.

“Think you can get these off without any help?”

He stopped pressing warm kisses against your neck to meet your gaze. With narrowed eyes, he tilted his head at your teasing tone, licking his lips with an amused grin, “Shut up. What happened to the nice, sweet, good girl from before?”

Holy shit.

His comment made you pause. Your semi-arrogant smile fell, becoming one of shyness instead. Carmy’s, on the other hand, brightened. He had somehow managed to turn the tables. Seems like it was your turn to be embarrassed.

He ran his hands over your thighs, gently pulling you closer. He continued to smile as you avoided his gaze.

“Hey,” he muttered, placing a hand on your cheek and encouraging your eyes to meet his, “d’you like it when I call you that?”

His smile was softer now. His body language, however, was giving off a newfound confidence, something you didn’t get to see very often. But with the way he caressed your skin, palms rubbing you soothingly in a steady pattern, you could tell he genuinely wanted to know.

He furrowed his eyebrows when you offered a mumbled reply, “Hmm?”

With shivers running along your spine and an affirming nod, you repeated yourself, “I do. Yes.”

“Yes, who?” he asked, cursing himself only seconds later for the question.

You couldn’t stop yourself from taking a deep breath in surprise. Your eyes fell to his lips, thinking about feeling them on yours again. Carmy watched you carefully when they did so. His cock throbbed heavily between his legs as the head gently bumped against your clothed entrance with every move he made.

You met his eyes again when his fingers delved into the flesh of your thigh. Admiring his blown pupils, you answered, “Yes, Chef.”

Both of his hands came to your hips. His fingers sunk into the hem of your underwear as he whispered, “Can I?”

He slowly slid the fabric down your legs when you gave him a whispered confirmation. Wrapping an arm around his shoulders, you pulled him closer. His lips hovered over yours with a groan as your free hand wrapped around his cock.

“Are you sure?”

Carmy’s eyes, which had been squeezed shut, slowly fluttered open. They flew over your features before he finally nodded, “Yeah.”

Your lips met his in a soft kiss before your forehead came to rest against his. With your hand gently stroking his length, Carmy couldn’t stop himself from letting out a gasp. He looked down to watch your movements with desperate, hooded eyes.

You ran the mushroom head through your wet folds. Carmy would’ve been embarrassed by his fascination at the way his cock glistened with your wetness if he wasn’t too busy groaning in pleasure.

“Gotta go slow, okay? I’ll have to adjust,” you said, and then a quiet laugh filled the air between the two of you. “Like I told you, you’re big.”

Carmy was sure his skin was cherry red by now, due to a combination of the growing heat in his stomach and your compliments. His mouth fell open and his eyebrows furrowed when your hand eased the head of his cock into your entrance. He couldn’t stop his fingers dug into your skin, creating indents on your thighs.

Arms encasing your lower back, he pressed himself closer, furthering the reach of his cock. His chest met yours, both of your shirts rubbing against the other. He could both see and feel your hardened nipples through the fabric.

Your hand that had been guiding him moved upwards, threading through his thick, unruly hair. He didn’t even need to move for you to start letting out a series of gasping moans. The sheer size of him was enough.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you nudged him as close as you could. His warmth melted into yours. His skin was aglow with heat, effort, and sweat. His length sinks deeper, stretching you wide and open for him. You hiss at the feeling.

Oh, yeah. He’s definitely the biggest you’ve ever had.

You kiss the bridge of his nose as you adjust to his size. Carmy quickly raises his head so his lips can meet yours. It’s a struggle, given how difficult it is for either of you to properly breathe at the moment.

Carmy’s cheeks are flushed red entirely. He’s burning on the inside with a newfound desperation for you. His cock throbs inside your walls and he feels as though he’s being drowned in your body by the pressure. Meanwhile, you can hardly focus on anything besides the noises he continuously lets out.

He hisses and groans with every shift, not expecting the feeling to be so tight. You’re dripping with so much arousal that it’s nearly soaking his pelvis and thighs. As his hands traveled under the fabric of your shirt to practically claw at your back, he can’t help but think about how the feeling of you around him is infinitely better than that of his own fist.

In that moment, Carmy knew you had ruined him for anyone else. He was completely, without any doubt in his mind, yours. And fucking proud of it too.

“You can move,” you whispered, strengthening your grip around his shoulders and tugging at his hair.

One of his arms curled further around you. His palm landed between your shoulder blades, slowly gliding over your skin that was hidden beneath your shirt. The other wrapped around your lower back.

His cheek leaned against yours as he gasped heavily into your ear after the first roll of his hips. Your hand continued to pull at his dark strands of hair, the other tangling itself in his shirt.

Slowly, he rocked into you, the pace starting off easy and unhurried. Given his size, you could already feel the head of Carmy’s cock gently bumping against your cervix. You gasped heavily with each of his movements. Your body writhed against him.

“Faster,” you muttered. “Carmy, go faster. Oh, fuck, please.”

Carmy melted at the way your moans echoed throughout his office. He huffed repeatedly with effort as his thrusts steadily increased. The slapping of skin, along with the slick sounds of your wet entrance, filled the room. Carmy couldn’t help but curse when your teeth suddenly sunk into the crevice of his neck.

“Shit!” he exclaimed. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good! Could stay inside you forever! Damn it! Wanna stay, wanna stay!”

Your mind felt empty of anything besides Carmy. His warm breath hitting your skin as he rambled on and on. The way he clawed at you desperately, trying to bring you impossibly closer. How his balls were repeatedly slapping against your dripping arousal.

“Carmy!” you whined, trying your best to redirect his grip on you, which was rather difficult due to his lightning pace. “Here! Touch me here! Make me cum! Make me let go on your cock! Oh, shit, you’re—ah!”

You guided his fingers against your clit. Despite his state of pleasured delirium, Carmy seemed to understand what you wanted from him. He massaged the bundle of nerves, sending shockwaves down your spine.

The tightly wound cord within you finally snaps. You cry out, gripping onto Carmy in order to gain at least some sense of stability. He continues to rut in and out of you like no tomorrow.

The only inclination that he knows you’ve finally cum is the pitchy moan he lets out when your walls constrict his cock with every wave of release. His hand is covered in your cum and he can’t stop himself from pulling his face out of hiding.

With one arm still around you and his hips still slapping loudly, he’s quite the vision when he suddenly brings his fingers to his mouth. It’s then, as he gets a taste of you, that he decides you’re his new favorite meal. In just one night, you’ve made him insatiable.

His hand goes for another round, trying to collect more of your wetness on his fingertips. Meanwhile, you’re beginning to collapse into overstimulation. You take to pressing your forehead against Carmy’s shoulder, panting and huffing as his throbbing length continues to delve deep into your dripping hole.

Carmy’s trying his best to take in every bit of you that he can, repeatedly collecting your release to press against his tongue as he pounds into you. He rubs at your clit with reckless abandon, craving more of the taste.

“Please, please,” he begged, distressed at the very idea that you might not cum again. “Wanna keep tasting you! You’re so fucking good!”

He’s unaware that your moans are no longer coherent. The only thing that continues to tumble from your lips is the sound of your uncontrollable gasps for air and an occasional curse.

Given it was his first time, you hadn’t expected him to have so much stamina. His thrusts seemed impossibly fast, pistoning in and out of you at lightning speed without a second thought.

Sinking against him, another orgasm washed over you as your mouth fell open in a silent scream. Carmy groaned at the feeling of your walls tightening around his cock, “Fuck, I can’t—! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum, fuck, oh—!”

His entire lower half rolls into you. He can feel crescents forming in his skin with how deep your nails are digging into him. He thrusts again, once, twice, and then a third time before he’s spilling into you. His cum seeps out around his cock, forming a white ring at the base.

Despite hardly being able to breathe, he pulls you into a kiss. His lips move against yours in gentle movements. It’s a stark contrast to the way he had been pounding into you only seconds ago. His length is beginning to soften inside you, which you’re slightly grateful for. You weren’t entirely sure you’d make it through another round of that.

“Are you okay?” he muttered, lips haphazardly meeting yours as his cock leaves you. “Shit, I didn’t mean to cum inside. I’m sorry.”

You shook your head, “I’m on birth control. And I can get a morning-after pill.”

He nods in response and then his eyebrows scrunch up. You almost laugh, wanting nothing more than to smooth out the ridges between them. Your hands glide over the fabric of his shirt, tracing over his chest absentmindedly.

Pressing another kiss against his jaw, you ask him just to make sure, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he nodded, hands slipping beneath your shirt in order to rub your back. “It’s just—uh—I don’t know, it’s stupid—”

“I’m sure it’s not,” you interrupted, not wanting him to lose the confidence you had seen in him only minutes prior. “What is it? You can tell me anything.”

His eyes quickly darted to the side. Although they only did so for a split second, you still noticed. Following the direction of his glance, your gaze lands on your discarded bra.

Carmy lets out a quiet curse as he zips up his pants, realizing that he had been caught. He ignores your smirk while he pulls you off his desk and helps you do the same. Even though helping you put your clothes back on is something no one else had ever done for you after sex before, you knew it was at least partially meant to distract you from your new revelation.

You quickly decide, however, that you can’t help yourself. With a smile, you quietly say his name in an effort to bring his attention back to you.

“Hmm?” he muttered, trying to ignore the way your hands trace gently over his shoulders while he rebuttons your pants.

You slowly tilt his head, leaving him with no choice but to meet your eyes. You repeat his name in a sing-song voice, “Carmy!”

He grasped your hands in his and pulled them away from his face. He quickly distracts himself by playing with your fingers. After a moment, he sighed before looking at you with softened eyes.

“Can you teach me the bra thing now?”

Your face brightens with an amused laugh. Carmy instantly groans in embarrassment, throwing his head back and swatting gently at your backside with a muttered, “Stop that! I told you it was fucking dumb!”

“No, no,” you shook your head, still chuckling as he rolled his eyes. “Pass it here, Berzatto. Then you can keep it as a homework assignment.”

He muttered a curse under his breath, which only made you fall into another fit of laughter. He then picked your bra up from the floor and handed it over. With an arm on either side of your hips, he rests his palms on his desk that sat behind you. All his weight leans onto them and you can’t help but smile at how close he is while he stares intently at your hands, waiting for you to begin your lesson.

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