#answering asks in a bit! i got a lil emotional | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

queers-gambit · 2 months ago

Text

History of Clocks

prompt: Carmy asks you out, Carmy thinks it's platonic. Carmy and Claire go on a date, Carmy forgets to cancel. how strong - or brittle - is your friendship?

pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!bestie!reader

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

collection masterlist: Nights Like This

word count: 10.8k+

note: strap in, this is a doozy. a masterpiece, but i digress.

warnings: humiliation / being stood up in public, i guess miscommunication trope, Carmy's a dumb fucking boy (and a lil bit of a dick), emotions are hard, angst, this Barbie copes through writing, girls being girls over fashion, love confessions, unrequited love, drawing boundaries, depiction of anxiety, nicknamed!reader has a dog, Cicero's niece reader 'cause why not! alcohol consumption (reader's a wine girlie)! and brief depiction of smoking! use of literary devices*, hurt no comfort!

*literary device warnings: a lot of repetition and too many idioms - some flow, others are kinda forced. please roll with it.

If someone asked Carmen Berzatto who his best friend was, he'd have zero hesitation to list your name. If someone asked who understood him the best, he'd say you did. If someone asked who supports him most outside his family, he'd shout your name first, declare your love as unconditional. If someone asked who or what inspired him, he'd insist it was you. But if you asked Carmy who he took romantic interest in, he'd answer Claire.

If anyone asked you ANY of the aforementioned questions, each response would be the same: Carmen Anthony Berzatto.

The two of you had been friends well over a decade by now, enduring his tenancy in Copenhagen and his residency in New York; plus anywhere in between. Sure, of course, it was frustrating having him gone, you missed him in abundance - but your pride outweighed everything. To see him chase and achieve such dreams brought you unparalleled joy; so much so, it didn't matter your pain of missing him. In turn, Carmy genuinely contributed much of his success to you, claiming your friendship is the central pillar that kept him upright; your blind encouragement what propelled him forward; and how a single phone call, hearing your voice, was like audible Xanax that quelled anxiety and self-doubt.

You had a tailored way of speaking to him; a way that never pressured him, but tried to show a different perspective to soothe his overactive thoughts. He describes you as optimistic, which, in his mind, was refreshing because of his violent pessimism. So, he attributed you as someone who kept him in balance.

A partner in crime. Another pea in his pod. Each other's missing half. A best friend.

For a while, this was enough.

You knew Claire was back around, but didn't put much stock in it because Carmy never did. Foolishly, you thought it was because of you - that maybe he harbored some feelings for you as you did him, and that's why he was uninterested in Claire. Through his transition being back home, Carmy had relied on you heavily, especially in the wake of Mikey; sharing intimate moments of emotional turmoil, doubts, fears, hopes, worries, dreams. Something in you both shifted; thinking perhaps you had aged past petty, fleeting flings and could focus on farming meaningful, real, lasting, supportive relationships. You foolishly thought you and Carmy were seeing one another through rose tinted glasses at the same time; that his were finally on.

You had been in the back office, wrapping up necessary paperwork for The Bear's operation when Carmy suddenly appeared in the doorway. "Hey, Honey, you got a sec?" He asked, wiping his hands on a dish towel; broad shoulder supporting his weight on the doorframe.

"Sure, whatcha need, Bear?" You glanced away from your paperwork to smile at him.

"What're you doing Friday night?"

"Uh, probably laundry? Why?"

Carmy chuckled and asked, "Wanna go out with me to this new marketplace? They have this place that does a fusion menu I've been wanting to try."

"Oh, I don't know, babes, I'm kinda out of clean underwear," you joked, both snorting identically.

"C'mon, pretty girl, go out with me. I'll even pay."

Apparently, in Carmy's mind, the phrasing 'go out with me' was purely platonic whereas to your ears, it was being asked out on an actual date. A miscommunication - or misunderstanding - that would position you both towards pain and difficulties.

"Oh, then I guess I can make it work. Where and what time do you wanna meet, Bear?"

"There's my girl," he smiled so prettily.

Carmy set the time. Carmy set the location. Carmy sought you out. Carmy asked you to go out with him. So, you didn't think to specifically clarify this meant Carmy was seriously committing because it sounded like a secure plan.

You should have.

Apparently, after parting ways with you, Claire contacted Carmy later in the night and made arrangements for their own date - on the same night, at the same time as his date with you. Carmy was so over the moon about going out with Claire, though, that he completely "forgot" to cancel on you, let alone tell you. Which felt very deliberate, considering the pair of you were so close, you were in the room post his appendix surgery - and if you've ever been there when someone's coming out of anesthesia, you know it can get kinda... intimate. So the fact that he never "thought" to tell you about Claire was a malicious blow - even if he did it unknowingly by being hyperfocused on where he'd take his lifelong crush, what he'd wear, even practicing certain topics of interest that would help him keep conversations flowing. The determination to make this date with Claire prove himself worthy of being loved, of being a priority in someone's life, mirrored your own desire - but specifically with Carmy.

You're not even sure how long you've harbored these feelings. Was it since high school? Maybe after? Was it before he left Chicago? Or when he was in Copenhagen, calling you when he got off work to chat on his walk 'home'? Maybe it was after he came back stateside and gifted you a leather-bound parchment journal where each page had a different dried, pressed, preserved floral. He labeled each bloom, dated the pages, and detailed where he was when he found each flower in silky ink from a fountain pen. The script truly looked poetic on the 'aged' pages.

"Oh, my God, Carmy - oh, wow! Look at this!" You gasped when presented the gift, gingerly leafing through the journal. "This is so - who thinks of something like this, wow, oh, look! Carm, I-I-I don't have the words, babes, this is just so beautiful, I'm blown away right now."

He shrugged sheepishly, hands in his pockets, "I picked any flower that reminded me of you." You'd come to read later that each page had an inked explanation of why these flowers made him think of you.

You beamed, clutching the journal to your chest, "Thank you so much, Carmy, I-I love it. No, really, I do!" You insisted when you saw his expression morph, "It's honestly the most thoughtful gift I've ever gotten, thank you so much."

"It's nothing," he eased, but the tips of his ears and apples of his cheeks were glowing bright. "I just didn't want to bring you home some novelty bullshit, like a 'I heart Copenhagen' mug; you deserved something better, more personal. You're a huge part of why I even went... Even bigger reason why I came back."

It was arduous to keep a level, pessimistic attitude; to gaslight yourself into believing your best friend didn't have feelings for you, that he was just being nice. Soon, it felt like wherever you turned, you had reason to suspect his feelings had changed; so upon being asked out, you abandoned logic and allowed yourself to flood with optimistic euphoria.

On Friday, you showed up at the agreed upon location; excited to take your taste buds on a culinary world tour without ever leaving Chicago with a real worldly chef. You thought you looked nice; carefully selected fashionable clothes (that ensured didn't look like you tried 'too hard') with chunky heels; your hair styled, make-up so perfect it could've been the featured look of a YouTube tutorial. Not wanting to wait on the sidewalk for safety reasons, you stepped into the fusion restaurant. After checking in with the hostess and earning a compliment from her on your fit, you were lead to a two-person table draped in navy linen with a contemporary floating candle centerpiece.

"Are you expecting company this evening?" She asked kindly, handing you a menu.

"Yeah, I'm just a little early. We're - yeah, no, I guess it's a date? He, um, he should be here soon," you rushed, flushing when you mentally scolded yourself that she didn't care and you needed to stop oversharing.

"Oh, no wonder you look so stylish!" She gushed. "He's gonna love it, you look beautiful - but not as much as I love your purse. I've always wanted one like it, but maybe in burgundy." You told her the store you got yours at, explaining it was a discount-department store buy, but the designer was sold at other easily accessible stores. It was nice to have a friendly, normal conversation; just two girlies, exchanging fashion tips which helped you feel all the calmer. The hostess who's badge read Laura nodded with a smile, "Is it okay to leave his menu here, then? I can take it back with me, if you wanna share?"

"No, no, you can leave it - I didn't bring my reading glasses," you tried to joke, wincing at the awkwardness.

"No problem," she set it down. "Can I get you anything in the meantime, honey?"

You almost laughed, instead smiling, "Oh, uh, water would be great, thank you."

The dining hall was relatively moderately full; several tables empty, waitstaff in matching navy uniforms dotted around, the lighting low to create a warm (or romantic) ambiance. You nervously checked the gold bracelet-watch inherited from your grandmother, clocking the time as 6:24.

There was no need to stress yet, so you studied the menu and made mental notes of what sounded good, what dish paired with what. A person could only look over menu options so many times, however, so you answered a few emails and texts before mindlessly scrolling through social medias to kill awkward time.

Around 7:05, your chest felt warm with something that made your intuition catch flame.

You texted Carmy: hey are you running late? you haven't texted me you're on the way yet 🤨

While to some, saying 'you haven't texted me yet' might sound a little overbearing, crazy, or pushy - maybe even spoiled - you did so because you knew how scatter brained Carmy was. He had an incredibly unpredictable, stressful, and chaotic job, which meant he sometimes lost track of time and needed reminders of other responsibilities / obligations outside The Beef, soon-to-be The Bear. You two had a friendship built on trust, fully able (and encouraged) to be yourselves and send borderline crazy messages to each other. You said it in person, why not over text?

The sweating glass of water was refilled, invisible timer ticking inconspicuously in the background, bread basket missing several sticks, the dining room now about 75% full.

Glancing around, you felt nauseated when you noted several couples enjoying romantic dinners; others with easy smiles and jovial laughter, happy to partake in the good tidings of loved ones. All around you, there was a smorgasbord of buzzing conversation you couldn't decipher. You had nothing else to do but focus on random moments of clarity, deducing some patrons were meeting for business; others were on dates, one table was celebrating their friend's new promotion, another, a birthday.

Yet here you sat, alone in the middle of a popular, high-trafficked restaurant; silent, isolated, feeling as if you were some zoo exhibit. Your plaque would read: Behold! The Stood-Up Single Woman!

While irrational, you felt other patron's beady eyes glazing over you - as if everyone could just tell what was happening. Their eyes made you sweat, feeling perceptive and heated, heavy and hateful. They watched you in your exhibit as if to affirm their situations could never be so bad because at least they weren't like you: stood-up, outcast, and humiliated. Their pity reeked. Their muttered words of prediction filled the stuffy space.

The invisible timer ticked louder, faster.

Tapping your phone screen set on the table, the time now glared as 7:33. So, you sent another text: uh, hello? Carmen! i thought we agreed to meet at 6:30? what's wrong?

Your message delivered, but there was no response.

Anxiety filled your heart, mind, and soul; being pumped through your veins to absorb in your bones - which created a sort of ripple effect within your chest and abdomen. Hair stood on the back of your neck. Stomach torqued in fear. Lungs deflated. Esophagus twisted. Chest hollowed and sunk. Right leg bounced at Olympic speed. Fingers twitched nervously, picking at cuticle, teeth chewing the skin off raw lips; eyes drawn to the entrance just in case Carmy showed up... In case anyone showed up. Skin burned and sizzled under the long, pitiful stares of patrons and employees alike. Heat flushed your body with embarrassment as if under Broadway stage lights; making you feel clammy and uncomfortable.

At 7:36, you double texted: Carmy?

Why wouldn't he answer you? Why wasn't his location updating? You worried something happened, he always messaged you when running late - so why not this time? Was something wrong? Did something happen? Wouldn't Sugar or Richie or one of the nine fucking Faks have called you?

The invisible timer ticked louder, faster.

At 7:45, Laura returned to your table, asking, "Would you like to see our drinks menu again?"

"Oh, uh, no, thank you, it's not necessary. Could I do another glass of Moscato, please?"

"Of course. Could I interest you in the bottle, you think?"

"At this point, yes ma'am," you chuckled at yourself.

"Any appetizers? Or more bread?" Laura asked sweetly.

You ordered multiple somethings to keep appearances, feeling bad you had sat there without ordering for so long; but also figuring if you were here, might as well enjoy trying something new, right? As the pretty young thing with a slicked back bun walked away, you were left to stare at the other undisturbed menu across from you, the candle wax dribbling into the water it floated on. Snatching your phone in hand, you glared at your message thread with Carmy, sending another: what the FUCK, Carm? answer your phone!

The invisible timer ticked louder, faster.

By 8:24, you had called him a total of 15 times.

The dining room was packed and poppin' by now, making shame cloud your shoulders from taking up precious optimal space on a popular date night. In truth, you didn't notice just how busy the dining room had gotten, but you know what they say? "Time flies when you're having fun," but it fucking trudges by in a mocking, lazy taunt when being actively humiliated.

At 8:32, your bottle of wine was polished off and you finally texted Richie: hey Cousin, is Carmy with you?

He answered within a fucking minute: no he left over a while ago for a date with Claire Bear

A record scratched in your brain, rapidly typing: what??? what does that mean???

Richie replied: damn, Cuzzo, you should know what a date is or has it been that long? 😂

Your throat swelled shut, nodding sadly and locking your phone; rolling your lips between your teeth to prevent yourself from having a very public, very emotional breakdown.

The invisible timer ticked slower, quieter.

With a sharp sniffle, you flagged Laura down, pointed at the menu, asking for your meal to-go and the check. She could hear the warble in your voice, so when she returned with your to-go order and check, Laura had snuck a couple extra things in your bag without charging you. And she only charged you for a glass of wine, not the bottle.

Laura earned herself a generous gratuitous tip as well as all the cash in your wallet, being a little over $150.

Returning home around 9:03, you could identify the dreadful feelings of rejection; how forgotten, taken for granted, disappointed, abandoned, replaced you felt. Unloading the food on the counter, you made yourself a plate and looked at your phone one last time. There was still nothing from Carmy, but Richie had texted you again: you good, Cuzzo? what you need Carmy for?

Changed into a set of cozy clothes, you curled up on the couch with your food and another glass of wine; faithful, loyal, loving dog(go) hopping up beside you. Switching something on the TV, you answered Richie with one hand while fending off the pup: nothing important anymore, Cuzzo. we can talk tomorrow!

It was a strange sensation; that blatant sting of betrayal and rejection from someone who was never supposed to hurt you. If Carmy didn't return your affection, that was okay! That was perfectly fine! That was ideal, even, because you never wanted to jeopardize losing him from your life so even if you couldn't be with him, you'd rather be his friend than nothing at all. But what isn't okay, is standing you up. Forgetting you. Neglecting you. Unjustly shaming you. Publicly humiliate you. Disrespecting you. After over a decade of friendship, didn't you deserve better than that? Of course, you did - so why did Carmy subject you to such degradation? Was Claire so hypnotizing, enchanting, bewitching, she successfully managed to block all your Carmy sensors? Or were you just that forgettable?

There were too many overwhelming emotions pinballing around your heart, mind, and soul to even begin processing. So, you cuddle your most loyal companion who would never betray or abandon you, ate what you could, polished off any wine, set several alarms on your phone, and laid down on your couch to be lulled into restlessness by the sounds of whatever comfort show was left on.

After getting up early to shower off the previous night, you got ready for work and made the trek through the city. While your couch was comfortable, you didn't sleep well; eyes heavy from their sting, second cup of coffee already in your travel mug, movements sluggish. You would've called out, but today was one of those days you had to go over some legal and logistical shit with your Uncle Cicero.

So here you were.

"Yo, Cuzzo! Hey-hey, good mornin', sweetheart!"

With a tired sigh, you spied Richie outside The Beef, smoking, watching you with a smirk. "Mornin', Richie-Rich," you tried to sound as if you hadn't been awake all night.

"Well, don't you look fuckin' peachy?"

"Fuck off, I'm not in the mood."

He held a hand out to prevent you from passing him, asking, "Yo... Hold on, what's good with you? And don't feed me no bullshit, I know something's wrong. You look like shit - but I mean that in concern, Cuzzo."

You decided not to comment, answering instead, "I just didn't sleep last night."

"Uh-huh... And?"

"And what?"

"That's it?"

You shrugged, "Nothing else worth dwelling over."

Richie cocked his head, "The fuck does that mean? Here," he offered his cigarette, which you accepted.

"Nothing's wrong, can we just - "

"Fuck all the way off," he scoffed, "you know the sooner you tell me, the sooner I stop askin'."

"It's... It's really stupid, Cousin."

"Don't make no difference to me; if it's bothering you, tell me."

You dropped the butt of the cigarette to the sidewalk, squashing it under your heel before leaning back into the wall with a long sigh. "I should preface this all by admitting, I might have feelings for Carmy - "

"Yeah, no fucking shit," Richie laughed, seeing your deadpanned expression. "Dude, holy shit, everyone can see it except you two idiots, it was high time someone admitted it. Tina and Mikey used to have a bet going about y'all ending up together."

Your frown deepened. "Right, well, glad everyone's so entertained and well-versed on my doomed love life," your eyes rolled.

"'Doomed'?" Richie chuckled, stopping when your expression turned crestfallen, rushing, "Woah, hey, I'm just teasin' you. C'mon, Honey, tell me how you're doomed?"

You were quiet, staring at your sneakers as you tried to build the courage to verbalize the situation. See, once you said it out loud (and to anyone), it becomes tangible, public, and undeniably real. You didn't want this to be real.

Just as Richie was opening his mouth to question (or nag) you, you admitted, "Carmy and I had plans to go to dinner last night..."

Richie paused, then asked, "But he was with Claire?"

"Exactly."

"I... Don't think I follow, Cuzzo?"

You huffed, "Cousin, Carm asked me to dinner, right?" Richie nodded. "He picked the time and place, then apparently, made plans with Claire but didn't tell the other. So, I got there last night, right? I waited for two hours, Cousin, but Carmy never showed, never answered my messages. He stood me up. He chose Claire."

"Are you fucking serious?"

"Unfortunately."

"Wait, lemme get this straight. So, he asked you out?"

"Yes."

"And made a legit plan? To link up? Time, place, whole thing?"

"Yeah."

Richie readjusted his stance, his anger flaring - reminding you of the diagram Lilo drew for Stitch to show how full of 'bad' he was. "And you're saying, you got there, waited for him for hours - fuckin' plural - and he didn't show up? No text, no call, no nothing?"

"Correct. I called and texted plenty, though. No answer."

"Right, but he didn't cancel your date when Claire came in the picture? Or vice versa, what-the-fuck-ever?"

"Nah."

"Just left you there? Alone?"

"Yep."

"Hold up, hold up. Homie made a date with Claire Bear before or after he made one with you?"

"Now that, I don't know. But does it matter which date came first, he still stood me up for someone else."

Richie blinked a few times, nodding silently with pursed lips. Then he snarled and tried to surge past you for the door, "Oh, I'll fuckin' kill him - "

"Yo, yo, yo, hang on! Wait, hold up! Leave it be, Cousin, it's not worth the hassle - "

"Nah, nah, nah! He doesn't get off scot-free! Nobody puts Baby in a corner and nobody fucks with Honey!" The two of you tussled on the sidewalk, you refusing to let him pass but him being stronger. It was quite the sight.

"No more Dirty Dancing references!"

"Hater! Lemme go, Honey!"

"Listen to me! Please, for fuck's sake! I don't want this to be anything bigger than it already is! Listen to me, I just want to get some work done with Cicero and go home. Okay? Okay? Goddamnit, Richie! It's not the time for this! Leave it alone for today! I just want peace!"

Richie eventually calmed down enough to let you push him back a couple feet. It took two more cigarettes, but you managed to pacify Richie enough for you to enter The-under-construction-Beef together, discovering most employees already present. Yet, in a rare and odd occurrence, Carmy wasn't; which would've normally confused or worried you, but now, only relieved you. As project manager, you worked intimately with Carmy on a daily basis - which poses as an obstacle if you were trying to avoid him - but without him, you could focus on getting work done and not dodging him.

"Behave," you reminded Richie in a lower register. He swatted at you, picking at a donut Marcus created.

"Mornin', Miss Mamas," Tina greeted, glancing over her shoulder to flash you a warm smile - requiring a double take. "Oh, baby, you look exhausted."

"I feel exhausted," you cleared your throat, greeting her with a quick peck to her cheek.

"Oh! So she can say it and it's fine? But when I do it, it's an issue? This is hypocrisy! Double standard bullshit!" Richie barked with laughter, shuffling past with a swift peck to your temple. Tina pushed at his belly as he passed, making him grunt and flinch dramatically.

You asked Tina, "Is Cicero here yet?"

"In the back with Sugar, baby."

"Thank you, Chef."

Richie watched you walk away from Tina only for Marcus to stop you, then Ibrahim needed something and it looked like everyone was gearing up to bring some kind of problem to your plate. Like a good cousin, Richie swooped in to place a donut in your hand, "All right, all right, back off, you jagoffs, let the lady breathe." He shooed you onward, feeling protective enough to intercept anyone to give you the space you needed after last night. You told him you wanted to work and go home, so he was going to do what he could to give that to you. The moment you disappeared into the office, Richie hissed to any surrounding employees, "Get the fuck over here!"

"The fuck, Richie?" Tina snipped, "We got work t'do, baby."

"I know," he rushed, glancing over his shoulder, then back at the others, "but I want everyone to go. Fuckin'. Easy. On Y/N today. Okay? Got it? She's got some shit to do with Cicero and then she's gonna go home - so, let's make sure that happens, no exceptions."

"What happened? What's wrong? Is she okay?" Marcus asked in concern, his frown deep enough to lower his brows.

"Yeah, Richie, you can't say that and then not explain," Syd tacked on. "I'll talk to her. -"

With grit teeth, Richie scooted in front of Syd and warned, "Hey. She's my fuckin' family, right? I'll protect her from anything - including you jagoffs, so leave her alone today. Okay? That's all I'm asking - Leave. Her. Alone." He glanced around and lowered his voice as the others all dipped inward to hear him, "Fuckin' Carmy asked her onna date last night then stood her up and went out with Claire instead."

This caused an angry ripple to emit from the huddle. You were none the wiser; in the office, sat at the desk to go over what Sugar had prepared for your review. Cicero leaned on the desk beside your chair, arms crossed, just watching you as if a bug under a magnifying glass. He pushed his glasses up by one finger to the noseband, glancing at Sugar and asking, "You all right, doll?" There was a pause, then a hand nudged your shoulder, "Honey? You hear me?"

"Hmm?" You looked up, "Oh, wait, sorry, were you talkin' to me, Unc?"

"Yeah, darling. I mean, you look pretty tired, just asking if you're all right?"

"Wow, I come into work as my most beautiful, natural self and all anyone can say is I look tired?" You laughed, trying to lighten the mood, "Maybe I do need make-up."

"You're also in joggers."

"I didn't feel like putting jeans on this morning, sue me."

"And you're quiet as hell."

"So? Usually you're telling me to shut up."

"You have a college degree in yapping," Cicero chuckled, "so when you go silent, I know something's wrong."

"I'd have multiple PhD's if yapping was a real major," you joked. "But I promise, Unc, I'm all right. I didn't sleep last night, so, after we get this shit done, I'm gonna head out."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive, Unc. Tell you what, you can even drive me home when we're done."

Cicero nodded, "Good deal. Then, let's get crackin'."

It was the worst timing in the History of Clocks.

Pete called Sugar several times, so she finally answered when Cicero needed to run to the restroom; leaving you alone and defenseless in the office as Richie was out back for a smoke break. Carmen apparently arrived just in time, all but bolting into the office when he didn't immediately clock you in the kitchen.

The invisible timer began to tick.

"There you are!" Carmy gasped, startling you enough for your knees to bang up into the desk. "Ohhh, shit," he blinked when you grunted and rubbed your legs, "I'm so sorry, Honey, that was my fault, I should've called or something as I came in."

"It's fine, Carmen. Look, uh," you gestured to the paperwork before you, "we're almost done here, do you need something or can it wait? Kinda your restaurant on the clock..."

"I mean, it can wait, but are you busy, like, right now-right now? 'Cause, lookit, I gotta tell you, I had the best fucking night. I'm so serious, Honey. I went out with Claire - you remember Claire, right? - and it was, wow, just wow - I mean, this girl is the whole package, you know?" You bristled when he took a seat on the edge of your workspace and realized he was carefully avoiding usual pet names. He continued to ramble on about his incredible date with the incredible Claire, missing your lips pursed in patient annoyance as you listened to him without reaction; staring emotionlessly at the laptop screen. "Hey," Carmy waved a hand in front of you, causing you to flinch and automatically look towards him - albeit in annoyance. "Where are you right now? You're not here, in the present with me. You all right?"

You couldn't help but bite, "Mhm. Where's your phone?"

The invisible timer ticked louder, faster.

"What?"

"Your phone, Carmy, the thing you pay a monthly bill for so people can get in touch with you, or you with them. Ring any bells? Where's your phone, it'll play bells for you."

"Woah, hey," his hands went up in defense, "what's with the hostility? I left my phone somewhere here last night, Honey."

"Oh, sure. How convenient - "

"No, look, I'm serious - look, look around the fuckin' desk!"

You glared at him before shuffling the few papers and files, ready to snarl at him when you found his phone. "Why's it here?" You asked stiffly, handing over the shut-off device.

"I forgot it, I was in a bit of a rush."

"There a reason for your rushing?"

"Yeah, to get to my date with Claire - see, you weren't even listening to me, were you?" He let a twinge of frustration taint his tone, "You wanna bite my fuckin' head off about my fuckin' phone that I forgot at work, fine; but you're so mad about it that you didn't even listen to me? Jesus, fuck, who are you, my mother?"

You swear you heard 'oooohs' coming from outside the office.

"Oh, fuck you, Carmen! How about you check your messages before trying to come at me, you fuckin' bitch," you snapped, slapping your laptop closed and starting to pack up the desk.

"What the fuck are you so pissed off for? 'Cause I didn't text you 'goodnight' or 'good morning'? Grow the fuck up - "

"Hey!" Cicero charged into the office, interrupting the argument. "I don't know what the fuck is happening, but we're busy in here, Carmy - "

"No, actually... Actually, we're done for the day, Unc, I can do everything else at home."

"No, Honey, hang on - "

You stood abruptly to gather the last files from the desk, "No, it's fine, I'm exhausted anyway. I got stood up last night waiting for this jackass, so as you can imagine, I just want to go home, away from any and all others right now."

"Woah, hang on," Carmy pleaded, checking his repeatedly dinging phone he managed to turn on, "wait, what the fuck is this? Why did you call me - holy shit, seventeen times?!"

"Could you drop me at home, Uncle?" You pleaded softly.

"Of course, princess, but what the fuck is going on?"

You could only manage a fake, sad smile, "Carmy's the jackass who stood me up last night."

"No fuckin' shit!" Cicero gasped, looking between you. "Uh, yeah, yeah, Honey, sure, I can take you home, c'mon, let's go."

"I left these for Sugar, they're all filled out if she can just file them - the rest I can do from home," you tapped the files left behind, leading the way out of the office; Carmy stood to the side in shock as he caught up on his messages. "Think we could grab something to eat on the way?" You asked, desperate for distraction.

"Whatever you want, doll, of course," Cicero agreed easily, following you at a close range. The others scattered like roaches, pretending they weren't listening, but... C'mon... You know?

The invisible timer ticked louder, faster.

"Wait! Wait, Honey! Please, hang on," Carmy called after you, repeatedly shouting your name. "Wait, please, wait, wait, wait, hang on!" He pleaded in a race against time to clear the kitchen and reach you before you could walk away from him for good. His hand wrapped around your upper arm in a desperate attempt to stop you, but it only made you flinch.

"Carmen," Cicero spat in warning.

"It's okay, Unc. It's okay, we should probably hash this out, you know? I can - I'll meet you out front," you promised softly, patting his arm raised to protect you from Carmy's grab.

The invisible timer ticked louder, faster.

Cicero gave a 'harrumph' and pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, glaring at Carm before taking his leave. You huffed and crossed your arms, turning to face your best friend, sneering, "What could you possibly have to say to me? You said enough last night."

"The fuck does that mean, we didn't even talk!"

You snapped, "Your silence was really fucking informative, Carmen!"

"That's what you're not fucking explaining to me! I don't even know what you're mad about!"

There was satirical amusement donning your expression as you gave a gruff chortle of disbelief. So, you broke it down, "By you not canceling the second you and Claire made plans or remembered you made plans with her first, by not answering me all night and humiliating me, leaving me there, alone, so you could go out with Claire said all I needed to hear. It was all you had to say. You were so fucking loud, it's a miracle I haven't burst an eardrum!"

"Honey," he sighed like you were a child throwing a tantrum, "it was an honest mistake. I don't get why you're blowing this up? We've literally forgotten about plans before, just help me understand why this one is so different? I want to fix this, tell me what the fuck is going on!"

Speaking of bursting an eardrum, the invisible timer ticked louder, faster.

Tears broke your waterline, "You've always been my best friend, Carm."

"You're mine, too - "

"But at some point, things changed for me. I get it's a personal problem, so I kept quiet because I loved being your friend, being in your life - I tried not to be greedy, but now I see we were just racing this inevitable clock. When you and I went through everything with Mikey, I thought it made us closer, stronger - "

"It did!"

" - but I also thought that maybe you weren't seeing me as before, as some kid, but as I am now - a woman."

"Honey..."

"Let me finish," you bit off, tears dripping down both your cheeks. "I still never said anything, I never wanted to pressure you, and truthfully, I always knew you had a thing for Claire, I knew one day someone would come around and replace me, but I still loved you. Despite everything with my family, with yours, I loved you. Despite any of my own reservations, my own fear about ruining what we have because it's better than losing you completely, I loved you. Despite the physical distance and all of your emotional distance, I loved you. And then, you come up to me, out of nowhere, and you asked me to go out with you. Twice, you phrased it that way, Carm."

"Honey, baby, please - "

"You asked me to go out with you, you set the time and place, I agreed. I showed up... I sat there as people came and went through the night, Carmen. It was humiliating an-and degrading and mortifying. Only to find out within seconds from Richie that you had left for a date with Claire - when there I was, alone, waiting for you, too. Like I said, I always knew you had a thing for her, and I knew one day someone would replace me, but holy fucking shit, Carm, I thought you had a little more decency, more respect than that after years of friendship - "

"How could you say that to me?" Carmy snapped with tears racing down both your cheeks, mindful of the distance as to not crowd you. "Knowing you're my best friend, the only person - "

"How could you leave me there, Carmen!?" You cried, making him freeze. "That was downright cruel and so fucking hurtful. So much so, in fact... I-It makes me feel we shouldn't talk for a while."

"What?"

"I'm so sorry, Carm, but I just - I don't think it's fair to anyone involved, nor those around us, to remain friends right now. So, we just... Need a break, or something. Being your friend is too fucking hard and so exhausting, it's been at my expense... We just need a break."

"No, hey, h-h-hang on a second, baby, wait, please," he halted you from turning away. "Listen to me, please, I'm so sorry. I really am, sweetheart, I'm so fucking sorry. Okay? I-I'm so sorry I forgot my phone and didn't see your calls or texts - "

You let your hand wave as if to physically pause the conversation, breathing, "That's what you think I'm upset about?"

"Well, yeah, and I'm sorry I couldn't call you, but you saw, you found it - I forgot my phone!"

"No... No, you didn't forget your phone, Carmen. Jesus Christ, you forgot me," you whispered, taking two steps back so he couldn't touch you even if he tried. "I really don't think we should talk anymore, okay? What you did was really fucked up, what you made me feel was even worse. I'll still help with the restaurant, I promised I would, and unlike you, I can be taken for my word because it means something. But I don't think you and I should work together, you make me so fucking uncomfortable - "

"No, hey, wait, baby, please, listen, listen, listen - I made one mistake," he pleaded, trying to step towards you but you reared back another three. "W-Why're you punishing me - punishing us - for one mistake? Please, Honey, I know I fucked up, but let me fix this!"

"Well, a stitch in time saves nine."

"The fuck?" Carmy chided, eyes narrowed.

"It means by doing proper the first time, you avoid problem later - but you don't have a lick of accountability, do you? No forethought, no comprehension to how your actions will affect others! It's not just 'one mistake', it's not just you standing me up, Carmy! Jesus, fuck, it's everything! I just poured my fucking heart out and you can't even say you love me back, can you?" You gave no time to answer, "No, of course not, because it's Claire - it's always gonna be Claire! It's always gonna be someone! So, I-I can't play second fiddle anymore, I won't - I can't be in love with you while you're in love with someone else, Carm. You've kept me on your back burner for too long, you forgot me, so you're not allowed to be surprised the kettle still whistles. I just can't do this, Carm, it's complicated and it hurts, it's not fair to either of us. So, I'll remove myself, no problem and work from home, but if I have to be here, please, limit our interactions best you can. For my sake, I'm begging you, give me fucking space."

"You're just gonna throw us away? I fuck up once, and that's it? Just like that?" Carmy begged, sounding earnestly confused. He looked like a kicked puppy. It broke your heart in a way last night couldn't. "I made one mistake, Honey, okay, yes, I take full responsibility! Please, let me try to fix this, okay? Please? I'm so sorry, I know that doesn't cover it, but lemme try to make all of this up to you. C'mon, baby, please, don't let me be the reason we both lose - just - okay, just let me fix this, please!"

"No, you know what? I'm not throwing anything away, I never did, Carm, you did when you chose Claire over me," you shrugged, tears strangling you once more. "Now, I need space... Can you give that to me or is that too much to ask for?"

"Why're you talkin' t'me like that? I-I'll give you whatever you ask for, Honey, you know that," Carmen sniffled, eyes reddening by the minute; hands going from hips to hair to forehead and back, unsure what to do.

You managed to get out, "I don't even know you anymore, it seems," before fleeing the kitchen, lungs choking on nothing. You couldn't get air in. You couldn't push any out, it was all so choppy and violent. With a hollow chest, you escaped out the front door; hating that you had to ignore Sugar and Richie calling after you, stumbling on the sidewalk and into Cicero's idling car.

"All right, let it out, you're all right, Honey. You're safe with Uncle Cicero," he soothed, rubbing your back as he pulled into traffic. "I know, I know... We all know, I'm so sorry this happened. What a fuckin' jagoff - you want me to pull my money from this restaurant? I'll do it - I'll do whatever - "

"No, no, no," you whimpered, sniffling and wiping your cheeks. "While I appreciate your ready and willingness to defend me, I don't want it at Carm's expense. I'll just work from home, it's not a big deal, and then... Maybe if I have to come in, I know Richie will be there to be a buffer, but maybe you could - "

"I'll be there whenever you ask, princess, you know that."

"Thank you," you squeaked as he drove past your usual street. "Oh, uh, I'm down South - "

"I thought we could make a run to the store, make sure you have all your comfort snacks so you don't have to go back out. Or do you wanna go straight home? You tell me, princess."

You gave a watery smile, a new wave of emotion choking your words, "Snacks would be really nice, thank you."

"You have dinner?"

"I don't know - "

"We'll get you some," he comforted, patting your knee as you just needed a safe space to cry. And for now, that was the front seat of your Uncle Cicero's 6-figure car.

You knew it was a formal invitation the moment you caught sight of it at your doorstep, indicating it was hand-delivered and not sent through the mail. It sent a flurry of unknown emotion through your veins; angry by its arrival, yet excited by what it meant. With a glance up and down the hall of your apartment landing, you found yourself alone; bending to pluck up the envelope and enter your home. Keys to the bowl, shoes left at the door in the foyer, coat hung up, purse deposited to the available end table; phone being pocketed as you turned for the kitchen to drop all mail on the counter.

You didn't open anything.

Instead, you got on with your evening after working your usual 9-5. After a steaming-hot shower, you smeared on a facemask to hydrate your tired skin; then shimmied into soft loungewear and fixed your hair for the night. In the living room, you turned on Netflix for background noise before scouring your kitchen for an appropriate dinner that would hopefully nourish you after such a busy day. You debated a glass of wine, thinking you didn't need it, but then pouring one as the glittering envelope taunted you from where you left it. You drank, glaring at the little piece of stationary as you cooked a simple stir fry concoction. Carmy taught you to clean while you cook, so, once your meal was dished up and whatever could've been stored in the dishwasher was, you poured yet another glass of wine, snatched the invitation, then nestled in the living room with your meal.

You still didn't open it.

The coffee table was larger than others; big enough to double as a work desk; the perfect height for you to still access while lounged back on the sofa. You had all kinds of documents spread, most pertaining to The Bear - which was finally set to open in about a week. It would've been an exhilarating time of celebration... Should you have been able to feel anything other than outright heartache.

For weeks now, you hadn't spoken to Carmy, the longest you've gone in your lives. You simply weren't ready to face the other side of rejection; spending this time building yourself up as an independent woman who didn't need no man, even if that man was your best friend. The idea that there was no place for you in Carmy's life or room for him in yours felt farfetched and illegal in some manner, as if it were taboo. You had a lot of navigating to do, and much farther to go, but for now, you were still in the adjustment phase. Never had you been without each other, it was weird to think this was it, there wasn't any going back; at least, not from you, yet, after such a putrid display of disrespect.

While you were stood up in just one restaurant, you avoided the entire marketplace as a whole out of sheer embarrassment. Granted, it wasn't a place you frequented, but it was still a hotspot some other friends had discovered and wanted to meet at for your weekly hang-outs. You couldn't tell them how triggered you felt because you didn't want to limit places to go, so, you figured bailing on them was the better option. It's not like you lied when you said you couldn't see them because of work - which was typically really crazy - but you could still make time if you wanted to; you had before. That's how much Carmy's hurt debilitated you, though.

Your plate was left to the side, dog sniffing around in the hopes of licking up whatever scraps you might've dropped; one hand holding the glass of wine, the other pinching the envelope by the corner. Deciding it was now or never, you ripped open the seal and retrieved the contents with delicate fingers, as if it would burn you.

The invisible timer started to tick.

You ignored the use of parchment paper. You ignored the perfume slightly wafting from it. You ignored the familiar script in silky ink. You ignored the certain choices you remember picking out, now used officially on the friends and family opening night invite.

You smiled sadly, letting the parchment card fall to the envelope left on the coffee table's corner. You took a long breath in, jaw wriggling; tears slowly forming, but not falling. For weeks, you had avoided any direct reminder of what happened; knowing you still worked as project manager, but able to sort of schedule your emotions around deadlines and necessary interactions. This particular piece of mail was impending, but unexpected today; where being invited to see the completed restaurant you helped design and erect was all but expected - just not today, per se. While every fiber of your being wanted to attend, nothing felt right about accepting when you knew you'd more than likely run into Claire and would have to interact with the others.

It felt too soon.

You had no right to go around any of them anymore.

What would you say?

Sniffling your emotion with a deep sigh, you leaned back to your back couch cushion with the last of your wine tipping to your mouth. While petting your pooch fondly, you wrestled mentally pros and cons, different logistics, like: who did you message your rejection or acceptance to? Did you bring a date? Did you go with Cicero? Were you supposed to wait after the crowd cleared to mingle with your friends? Were they still your friends? What did you wear? Should you make legit plans with other people so you had plenty of distraction that evening? So you had a solid alibi? Would anyone even question your absence?

Your dog whined when your phone vibrated violently in a phone call from another cushion. With a sigh, you leaned forward to set your wine glass down and snatch the offending object, answering, "Hey, Unc."

"Hey, princess. You busy? This a bad time?"

"No, no, I just finished dinner and am trying to will myself to finish the dishes. What're you up to?"

"Gettin' ready for bed - just wanted to check in on you..."

"Ohhh, I get it - so, you got a pretty little invite in the mail, too, huh?"

"I got something, yeah. I think it looks pretty nice, don't you think? Definitely Sugar's design."

You held back your sarcastic quip about how you had all but designed the invites, so, you answered instead, "Yeah, real nice, Unc, yeah, she's got real talent. You goin'?"

"Uh-huh, no beating 'round the bush with you, is there?" He sighed, making you smirk broadly, "I am, I'm goin', gotta visit my money, you know? Well, I was wonderin' if you wanted to go with me?"

"Oh, Unc - "

"I know, I know, but it could be nice. Just us! Or we could double date? My treat - I'm paying - "

"I don't know if I can go yet, I haven't checked my schedule. I got home, made dinner, ate, answered your call."

"Oh, shit," he laughed. "Well, you think about it and let me know, Honey, okay? Okay, seriously, it'll be nice, we can go together, or separate - you know, don't let me cramp your style."

You laughed, "Nah, you kinda up my game."

"As I should. All right, pumpkin, well, I should run - but you think about it, let me know what you think, okay?"

"Okay, Unc, sounds good. We'll talk soon, I love you. Goodnight."

"Love you, too, doll, goodnight."

The invisible timer ticked louder.

The invitation was the only thing clipped to the front of your fridge. It taunted you at every passing moment. For days, it demanded your attention - succeeding only because you knew you had to RSVP to someone. Friday loomed closer and closer, Cicero had sent you two reminder texts, and try as you might, the fracture to your heart wasn't easily plastered.

There was nothing but heavy pain each time you thought about attending, so, on Wednesday night, you texted Sugar: hey babe! love that F&F is happening! sadly i have some work shit to do so i can't be there ☹️💔 but the invites are gorgeous! congrats on everything, i can't wait to see it! thanks for thinking of me for the guest list! good luck on Friday! 😘

Then you texted Cicero you couldn't make it, and while he understood, Sugar replied: Thank you, my love. Fak was so proud to show us how to work Canva for those invites 😂 Sure there isn't anything I can do to change your mind? We'd all love to see you there!

You answered: no way, this looks like real handwriting! technology's going too far. and yeah babes, i'm sure, i got work shit so unless you yell at my boss, i'm kinda stuck 😂

Curiously, Sugar requested a photo of your invite; but without curiosity, she also requested your boss' phone number. After you sent the image, she replied: Oh wow! I guess Carmy went rogue and gave you a fancy handwritten invite. What a jerk. Is he still a jerk? I can't remember, we haven't talked about what happened! 🥲

You promised: nothing to talk about now, Sugar Mama. all good! i gotta run but i love you congrats again, gooooooooodnight! ❤️

You hated avoidance; the dejection, festering unworthiness, self-imposed punishment and isolation. Yet it was all you had now, rationalizing you were protecting yourself and this was a necessary defense for your newly instated peace. Sometimes, you had to do things like miss events because you're healing - and that should always take precedence because you were nobody's priority but your own.

You put a red line on your calendar through the words 'THE BEAR', nodding as if in assurance of your decision, then yanked the invitation from your fridge. Yet you hovered over the trash can, fingering the lettering and remembering Sugar's text: Carmy went rogue and gave you a fancy handwritten invite.

The trash can lid slammed shut.

The invisible timer ticked slower, quieter.

In your bedroom, you pulled a handheld trunk from your closet and knelt to the floor. Inside the trunk, you had placed all triggering Carmy centric mementos and memorabilia; dropping the invite to the towering piles. You carefully pushed some letters out of the way to pick up the journal he gifted from Denmark; flipping it open to any random page for study. Then you compared it to your invite and let a small, fond smile tug on yours lips; confirming it was Carmy's script, that he had, indeed, gone rogue.

When the trunk shut, so did the lid of your feelings.

Opening night had been something of a disaster, but the staff was ready to handle whatever obstacle. Granted, the head chef getting locked in the walk-in freezer wasn't on anyone's bingo card, Sydney was still a fucking superstar and commanded the kitchen in a gorgeously fluid and respectful manner. Richie stepped up and proved he was a newly-appointed expert in hospitality. Fak could take... some... direction. All in all, while not ideal or what was expected, it was an incredibly successful opening night! The staff was all rightfully proud of themselves, riding euphoric adrenaline highs.

The invisible timer began ticking.

Despite knowing Carmy had been freed from the freezer, nobody could locate him. Some theorized he went home to blow off steam, others teased maybe he went home with Claire - missing the way she left in tears earlier. However, when Tina, Fak, Syd, and Richie left the kitchen, they paused and let their proud smiles drop upon discovery of Carmy sitting, alone, in a back booth of his restaurant.

A dim, yet unmistakable comparison to what he did to you months ago.

There was temptation to leave him there; the entirety of the staff pissed off to the point they were giving Carm the cold shoulder for what he did to you. They credited you with damn near everything "The Bear" was, because while not your idea, not your dream, you gave it life and brought this place into fruition. Not to mention, you had taken on work as project manager for free - paid in the value of knowing you were helping such a good cause. A good family. It was a repeating fact; your everlasting endearment and compulsive support for anything and everything 'Berzatto'.

Yet despite their own simpering feelings, it was all dwarfed on examination of Carmy's decidedly pathetic statue. Syd felt a level of guilt the entire night, feeling it increase on sight of her technical boss; but to Fak, Richie, and Tina, who took Carm's slight against you personally, this was a heart-melting sight. There was a strange, mutual desire where the group went from wanting to kick Carmy's ass to just wanting to give him a hug and help the poor emotionally-inept dumbass.

"Go," Tina snarled quietly, pinching Richie's under arm.

"Me!?" He spat in shock, "Man, hell nah, fuck that guy!"

"Fuck you, too, Richie, c'mon," Sydney chided, pushing past them to lead the way up to Carmy. "Uh... Heeey, Chef?" She greeted in an unsure, sing-song voice.

"Chefs," he nodded meekly, immediately looking back to his anxiously twiddling fingers.

"Hey, Carm," Fak smiled warmly. "Whatcha doin' here, bud? Why're you all alone? In the dark? That's kinda creepy, dude."

"Nah, nothin'. Just, uh... Just waitin'."

"For what?" Fak asked, Richie smacking his arm. The tattooed man with a mustache flinched and cried, "What!? Now I can't ask my friends questions!? He's the one sitting in the dark like the Undertaker! Jesus!"

"Dude, just pause, be quiet," Richie scolded, shaking his head to silence the confused Fak. At Carmy, Richie directed, "Yo, Cousin, c'mon, let's just - let's all go home. C'mon, man, let's go. It's closing time."

"Yeah, yeah, uh," Carmy sniffled, "you guys go 'head, I'm gonna wait up for a bit."

"Carmy, it's late," Syd tried, "we aren't just gonna leave you here. So, come with us."

"Yeah, baby, c'mon," Tina tacked on in sympathy, "it's been a helluva night, we should all get some rest."

Fak and Syd and Tina all tried to encourage him with them, but Richie remained silent; just surveying the Chef. When a natural lull came after Carmy insisted again they go on without him, Richie scoffed, "Dude, c'mon... You know she's not comin'."

The invisible timer ticked louder, faster.

"Richie," Tina hissed.

"What?" He barked with his hand raised, glaring at Carm. "C'mon, man, it's late, she knew what time this was - and she told Sugar she couldn't make it 'cause of work. That's pretty definite. So... So, c'mon, let's go, dude, she's not comin'."

Before anyone could intervene again, Carmy snapped, "You don't know her like I do, Cousin."

"Know what? Fine," Richie laughed sardonically, "fucking fine, rot here for all I care, man - "

"No, c'mon, Richie! Hey! Don't be like that!" Tina called after him, sighing in defeat. "Sorry, Chef, I gotta run - " She leaned into the booth to peck Carmy's cheek before rushing her farewells to the others, then running out the door, calling, "Richie! Wait, baby, hold on!"

Sydney and Fak awkwardly stood around, not knowing what to do or say, so Carmy insisted they go home, too; he was gonna wait just a little longer for you then head out. They believed him, or at least, enough to listen to their bodies and go home for some form of rest. Carmy twisted the locks on all doors after them, leaving only the front undone with his seat facing directly forward.

The invisible timer ticked louder, faster.

He waited with his elbows on bouncing knees. He waited and devised his nonnegotiable list. He waited with his feet in the booth. He waited while rearranging his ideal table setting. He waited and redid the tape in the walk-in. He waited on the sidewalk, chain smoking. He waited while scrubbing the kitchen, top-to-bottom. He waited and took liquor inventory.

He waited, replaying the events of your fight in his mind. He hated what he said, how he behaved, the expression on your face; praying you'd accept his olive branch - thinking a handwritten invitation was enough. Carmy just assumed you'd remember he was better at talking rather than writing or texting - hoping his script was enough for you to know he wanted to see you in person, not just send messages of apology. He wanted you to have space, he thought a couple of months was enough; so, hopefully you were still fluent in the words he never spoke or wrote.

This inspired Carmy to call Richie's phone to leave a voicemail of apology and love after reminiscing their own fight. It also made him want to call you, too - but this urge was resisted when the image of your heartbroken expression shot to mind.

The invisible timer ticked louder, faster.

Eventually, Carmy settled in the corner booth; arms crossed, feet up, still watching the door. He noted the sun was rising and the city waking up; cars buzzing by, commuters starting to crowd the sidewalk. His eyes burned with the yearn for sleep, yet his mind would not quell; unable to forget your tears, the devastation you showed, how he was the sole cause of it all.

Carmy repeated he was a failure, he let you down and betrayed any and all trust the pair of you had in one another. He should've told you the truth; that he could see himself loving you romantically, he just never thought it was an option, so it purely wasn't on his radar. In Carmy's mind, even trying to cross such an important friendzone could make you feel unsafe if you didn't feel the same way; so it was something he wrote off long ago. It was part of why Claire was so tempting to him, but he needed you - like a fish needed water.

He was able to comprehend (now) that his actions weighed on more than himself, but you, too; that given proximity, you were forever doomed - or destined - to be his collateral damage. Carmy also understood this wasn't a lease you could continue to cosign for any longer when he desecrated the house and home your friendship lived in. So, it was his job to prove he could be the man you fell in love with, that he could deserve you; all he needed was a chance, and it was better late than never.

Understandably, Carmy felt pitiful, purely ridiculous that this is what it took for him to realize nobody mattered to him more than you; nobody could ever compare, there would never be a competition. That he didn't care for Claire's thoughts, opinions, nor ideas like yours; how he found himself wanting to impress you, not her; hating when his phone rang with her ID and not yours. You had given Carmen exactly what he wanted, and yet, it was everything he hated and nothing he needed. Carmy prayed to an unspecified deity that your decade+ friendship was strong enough to withstand - or recover from - his insolence.

Yet when the front door opened, it revealed only Richie; a delight unto itself, but not the ray of sunshine the mournful Chef desired.

The invisible timer ticked louder, faster.

Carmy deflated with definitive defeat into the booth, tears falling in rapid finality. His lips parted just a fraction to let his breath escape in easier huffs, a buzzing whine filling his ears as icy realization washed over him: your friendship was truly well and over.

"Cooked," as the kids say. Your friendship was cooked.

Richie paused in the walkway, sighing deeply before slowly moseying over. He silently placed a twin cup of coffee to the table and dropped to the booth across from Carmy, both silent and stewing. Richie peaked up first, finding Carmen's attention locked on the door like a golden retriever; but the flooding tears halted any derisive comment he instinctively wanted to hurl. Richie asked before taking a sip of coffee, "She didn't show, did she?"

The invisible timer ticked louder, faster.

"Nah, she didn't," Carmy whispered, the tears flowing faster, "'cause I really fucked up this time, Cousin. She's really fuckin' done with me. Not that I blame her, but... But holy shit..." Carmy dissolved into lung-stuttering tears, bowing his head in shame as he obviously attempted to get a handle on his emotions; only ever used to having them freely around you.

Richie sighed and leaned over the table to clap his hand to Carm's shoulder, muttering, "Hey, hey... For what it's worth, I'm really fuckin' sorry, Carmen... I am, I know you love her." His lips rolled between his teeth, letting Carm have his (several, long) moments before trying to sound lighter, "Look, of course, Honey didn't show up to open, but she doesn't have a malicious bone in her body. You haven't shown her you're sorry! She's still pissed off and worse, she's hurt, Cousin! Know what I mean?

"I know," Carmy whispered in despair.

The invisible timer ticked louder, faster.

"So, cut the fuckin' shit, man, time is of the essence! Maybe if you, like, stopped fuckin' cryin' and actually try fuckin' apologizin', Honey'll soften up - you know, like, feel safe enough to come around sometimes. Maybe be a li'l more receptive to you not being so much of a dickhead?"

This made Carmen perk up slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose, questioning, "The fuck are you talkin' 'bout?"

"The fuck did I just say? Get off your ass and apologize to that girl who's so sweet, she's literally called Honey. She's human, she just wants your remorse, dude, you owe it to her; so apologize and leave her be, and when she's ready, she'll let us know, maybe even come back 'round."

The invisible timer ticked slower, quieter.

After a pause, Carmy asked, "Think she'll come back?"

"Only time will tell. Apologize first, you inconsiderate jagoff."

"Way to kick a man."

"We're in this 'cause of you, you fuckin' pussy!"

"Oh, real nice, fuckin' jackass," Carm scoffed, wiping his cheeks and finally accepting the coffee.

"Now you sound like her," Richie smirked, sharing a secret snicker. The pair fell into contented silence, just mulling over each other's nights; either displaying signs of anxiety; where Richie bounced his leg, Carm picked at his fingers wrapped around the cup of coffee.

The invisible timer ticked slower, quieter.

After several too-long minutes, Richie started snickering.

"What're you laughing at?" Carm mumbled.

Richie had to control his giggles, wiping a finger in the corner of his eye, "Something that can only be explained later."

"What's that?"

"...Mikey would've owed Tina about $6k right now."

"The fuck - ?"

"I said later!"

requesting rules and masterlist

The Bear masterlist

-> no part two planned!

337 notes · View notes

neil-gaiman · 9 months ago

Note

Hiya Mr Gaiman!

It's probably unlikely that you'll see this, since ofc you're probably busy rn, but incase you do see this in your inbox but don't have time to answer due to other stuff, i just wanna let you know that i still appreciate you somehow having time to read this lil ask I've sent you! Again, thank you Mr Gaiman!

Anyway, so this would probably sound *kinda* weird in terms of the ask i'm writing to you, but do bear with me!

Ok, so uhh Mr Gaiman, if you were to have the ability to time travel to alternative dimensions/universes, would you go to an alternative universe where Monty Python member Graham Chapman never got throat cancer and was still alive and well and happy in his 80s and living his best life in said alternative universe? If so, why? If not, why?

Again, sorry if it sounds a bit out of league and sorta philosophical in terms of the question for you to answer, Mr Gaiman, but I've been thinking about this for quite a while now and it does make me both happy and emotional to think about if Graham Chapman was still alive today, and if he was still alive today, what kinda projects he would've been in, both in terms of writing and acting? Would Graham still be in contact with the other Pythons? Would Graham probably also have a Tumblr account? (ok that's a bit of a stretch but it's a bit funny to imagine imo).

I certainly think that, if Graham was still alive today, he would've been absolutely happy that same-sex marriage was finally made legal plus many other achievements for LGBTQ+ rights, and that he would've probably gotten legally married to his partner David Sherlock, with the other Pythons being the guests of honour for the wedding ceremony!

I also wonder that, if Graham's adopted son John Tomiczek (who unfortunately died from a heart attack in 1992) were to also live, would've Graham finally become a grandpa/great-grandpa?

Idk, it's just some thoughts that I've been thinking about. Thoughts about the many upon many possibilities of Graham doing lots of stuff today if he were still alive. Things he *would've* and *could've* have had the opportunity to do......that is.....if the universe didn't decide to be a dickhead one day and give Graham throat cancer for no absolute reason, and to make it hurt even more, have him pass away on the eve before the 20th Anniversary of "Monty Python's Flying Circus" airing on the 5th October, 1989.....

Again, I understand if you can't be able to answer rn due to other stuff, but I thought I'd ask you this rather hypothetical (rather philosophical of sorts) question cuz I have been thinking about it for quite a while now, and I wanted to hear your personal thoughts on this hypothetical AU situation!

Thanks Mr Neil Gaiman ❤️

It's a lovely idea. I never knew Graham (although I've met most of the other Pythons, and am friends with Terry Gilliam). I like thinking of worlds in which wonderful people didn't die.

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autisticshadowthehedgehog · 4 months ago

Text

rewatching sonic twittok takeover #7 and there were some fucking GEMS of moments in here that i just kinda forgot about so recap

the boys were being SUCH boys in this one. making fart jokes and getting knuckles to hit himself was SO funny

shadow says his favorite flowers are lantanas

knuckles says she wants to see a version of sonic with laser eyes. nobody tell him about fleetway

tails "i hope there's a sonic that's my best friend <3 oH WAIT <3 THAT'S YOU!!! :D"

knuckles's answer to "what's under your gloves" is "what are you, a cop?" he implies this question is invasive

tails describes his own fur as "yellow-orange"

in the "sonic's dream" question, it's implied that sonic is a lil bit needy for attention. also knuckles mentioned he had a dream that the master emerald was talking to him

eggman has seen the incredibles

knuckles also made a ref to "so you're saying there's a chance" which implies he might've seen dumb and dumber. it's also a jim carrey reference

the team makes fun of knuckles for having a crush on rouge (whether or not he actually has a crush or if they're just annoying him on purpose is never stated, but tails did say knuckles bought her daisies. which is funny bc where the hell did knuckles get that money. tails also says he knows bc "he's a gossip")

knuckles refers to himself as "knuckles echidna", which probably wasn't an intentional reference to satam/underground sonic being "sonic hedgehog" but i appreciated it

knuckles once found shadow standing and staring silently at the trees of luminous forest and immediately, without question, started standing there staring with him

tails tries to suck up to razer gaming computers' official account which is really cute

tails gets dizzy during spin-dashing. amy used to but got used to it. sonic was really surprised to hear this

IF WE ALL DON'T REMEMBER THE TAILS "FEAR OF THUNDER" QUESTION WHAT EVEN ARE WE. tails homeless canon

tails says he admires eggman's work ethic and that made eggman emotional bc he doesn't get complimented much

when asked what eggman's fursona would be, amy suggested a fox or a wolf, sonic suggested a sloth or a baby flicky, which made me think of that one @neurotypical-sonic post

knuckles immediately tells a knuckles fan that he's a "terrible role-model" and he shouldn't have fans. then says of his personality: "everything sucks."

amy calls her fortune cards a hyperfixation, which implies that she's canonically neurodivergent

knuckles tries to steal amy's fortune card that has the master emerald on it

amy confirms that her bracelets aren't inhibitor rings which is funny cause that's like, an old 2020 post of mine lmao

amy claims shadow had fun at the hot honey concert and then asks sonic if he was jealous. sonic then proceeded to say that he's great company at a concert. amy invites everyone to a concert and knuckles says he wants to be in the mosh pit. tails says he wants to practice his line dance

when asked how he feels about shadow, tails calls him a misunderstood tragic hero and immediately points out that he's lost someone close to him and been "grappling with that for years."

HYSTERICAL moment when someone asks for rings and knuckles immediately punches sonic and steals his rings

eggman can't even remember starline's name. like bro you killed him

when asked about winter activities, knuckles likes snowball fights, sonic likes snowboarding, amy likes holiday decorating (and is one of the bitches who starts November 1), eggman says seasonal depression gives him great ideas, and tails didn't say anyth

sonic likes trains and supporting public transportation

sonic says he loves sleeping. eggman's been trying "intermittent sleep" which isnt going well

"would you guys like sonic if he was a worm" amy and tails say they would, knuckles says he wouldn't. sonic then quips that amy is a lil scared of bugs

vanilla apparently is constantly inviting the entire sonic squad for dinner. they seem to go over regularly

eggman eats paint

knuckles isn't allowed on the internet without supervision since the "incident."

amy and tails want to be more independent, knuckles wants to be less so.

"if you could swap roles with someone for an entire day, who would you choose" tails wanted eggman in order to get a hold with his tech

"is it painful to give knuckles a fist bump or a handshake" yes

eggman did indeed dissolve GUN during forces

it's implied tails knows what five nights at freddy's is. sonic freddy fazbear will be AT the fridge

sonic liked fighting fang and the end (which he referred to as a narcissistic planet), tails liked fighting chaos cause he "came into his own" during that game, amy says neo metal sonic gave her a headache, and knuckles says he has fought a lot of ghosts

eggman's goggles are for wind protection and style

tails's tails don't get tangled bc he's careful

trip has still been on the northstar islands this whole time. girl really looked out at the planet broken into shards and said "not my fucking problem"

#sonic twitter takeover #sonic tiktok takeover #sth #sonic the hedgehog #mine #sonic squad #team sonic

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literaila · 1 year ago

Text

bad day

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: satoru can take things seriously... seriously, he can(not).

warnings: lil angst, fluffy, the children are side characters (not), tiny little argument (very tiny), nanami mention!?!?@@?#

a/n: i was going to write a cute valentines day thing but instead i overanalyzed the way all of these characters push their emotions away and here were are (: (also sorry yall i was buried beneath the earth for a couple days)

last part | next part

year two.

satoru has been watching you for at least three minutes. he tries to pretend that his eyes flicker away every couple of seconds—checking his phone or laughing at something or doing anything but staring—but he knows that his eyes never drift for long.

it’s not his fault, actually. on any normal day he’s usually staring at you—discreetly, he swears—watching your smile when he says something stupid, or your frown when he’s messing around. your eyes when they’re tired, your lips when they’re moving (or staying still, honestly).

but this isn’t his usual method of observing you. with the back and forth and the peering gaze.

and because he took off his glasses as soon as he got home, he knows that you should be able to tell.

but you haven’t said anything, which is the second sign that something is wrong.

“what’s going on?” he asks after the silence has faded into something uncomfortable.

his usual tactic is to wait for you to notice the silence and say something, but it’s not working. honestly, satoru’s not even sure if you know that he’s still there. usually, the two of you pick up on each other like magnets, just drawn closer, an obvious pull between your presences.

but you’re kinda far away, leaning back every time he leans forward.

“what?” you look up, finally, eyes wide with surprise. he might as well have just caught you stealing something. “what?” you repeat, less shocked.

“what happened?”

if you were a normal person, you would be radiating negative energy, he thinks.

you sigh, shaking your head. you think he’s joking—which is the point of his tone, of his words—but he’s not. just trying to get you to roll your eyes or push him away or tell him to go somewhere else.

anything you might usually do.

but you only frown, looking away again. “satoru, what are you talking about?”

“you.” he answers, quickly. “this… this.” he gestures to all of you.

“nothing,” you slap his hand back, finally rolling your eyes. “i'm fine. i'm good.”

“the kids say something?”

“nothing unusual. tsumiki asked if she could go to dinner with a friend friday night—“

“what about you?”

“what about me?”

“you’re frowning.”

you sigh. “cause i'm trying to make dinner and you’re distracting me.”

but you falter a little bit because he’s not wrong.

satoru can see it. and you’re a terrible liar.

“hey,” he pulls you away from the counter, getting your eyes on his. “talk to me.”

“it’s nothing, satoru,” you say, clearly trying to make the words stronger than they are. “i'm just tired.”

“you didn’t sleep?”

“i did…”

“and you’re tired?” he pokes, trying to catch you in your obvious lie.

it doesn’t take words—a confession, some truth—for him to see the other kind of tired in your eyes. the kind that he’s only noticed on cloudy days when you were alone on campus, or when he ignores something he knows you want him to talk about.

it’s a look he hates. the kind of eyes that shake him to his very core.

not that he’ll ever admit that to you, or anyone else. he shouldn’t care if you’re sad, or something of the sort. it’s none of his business.

and yet, right now, those thoughts don’t matter to him at all.

“it’s just been a long day,” you whisper, gesturing around you.

“why?”

you groan. “i need to finish dinner, okay? i just want—“ you breathe out.

“what?”

“a little space. i just…”

“what?” his brows are furrowed.

“go hang out with tsumiki,” you whisper, “or annoy megumi for a bit, or something. dinner will be ready in, like, forty-five minutes,” you’re almost pleading when you whisper, like an afterthought, “leave me alone for a while?”

the shake of his head is almost unconscious. “not until you talk to me.”

“i don’t want to talk.”

“i don’t care,” he says, in the same patronizing tone.

“satoru, honestly, i’m trying to cook and you’re getting in the way—“

“just tell me what happened.”

“nothing happened,” you say, trying to convince the two of you. “i just don’t feel very good, is all. it’s nothing.”

“clearly, it’s not nothing.”

“it’s nothing,” you repeat, harshly.

“how can i help?” he wonders, watching as you try to tilt away from him. “do you want me to—“

“seriously,” you almost snap. “i want to be alone, for a bit, alright?” your voice is stronger than it’s been since you walked in the door. your eyes are hard as you look away from him. “i just want a couple minutes without someone clinging to me, or asking me for something. is that okay with you?”

satoru watches your face, the way your eyes flicker shut, the brief quivering of your lips.

and he could say something—crack a joke, ask you if you’re okay again, prod for an explanation—but he’s always been fond of running instead of doing the right thing.

so he does.

you asked for space, and he might as well give it to you. he can do at least that.

he goes into the living room, ruffling megumi’s hair as he sits on the couch, but he doesn’t say anything.

and he doesn’t see the glance between the two children, the wide eyes. but he can almost feel it when you lean against the counter, letting out a frustrated sigh.

dinner is very quiet. tsumiki chats with megumi idly, smiling every time she remembers something about her day, or when megumi shows an ounce of interest in what she said.

you ask her questions every once and a while, like you’re just remembering that you’re supposed to be listening to her.

satoru doesn’t comment on this. he does the same, poking at both of the kids while they feast like animals.

and then megumi is clearing the table, and tsumiki is helping put everything in the kitchen away, and satoru washes the dishes, noticing immediately when you disappear.

he pats both of the kids on the back, saying something about leaving cleaning up in their capable hands, before he follows.

his movements are out of his command. he hasn’t said anything—hoping to give you what you asked him to—but he’s only so strong.

he finds you in his bedroom, sitting on his bed like you’re the one who messed up the sheets.

satoru is so concerned he doesn’t even think about you being there. on his bed. he doesn’t even blink.

but he shuts the door behind him, waiting.

“hey,” you say to him, so soft it’s almost inaudible. “i’m sorry.”

satoru leans against the doorjamb, a small smile on his face that you’re not looking at. it feels pointless. “dinner wasn’t too bad,” he shrugs, “i mean, could’ve used some salt, but i’m not complaining.”

you don’t smile at his tease, don’t turn your head to shoot him a look. his icebreaker has done nothing but come back to hit him in the eye.

his smile drops to something more asinine, a bit broken as it lays upon his face. “what’s going on?”

“i, um…” your lips purse, and you shake your head. “i’m sorry, satoru. for snapping at you. i’ve been—“ you sigh again, the words all broken and clipped like you’re not sure how they go together. it’s such a weird apology, sounds so wrong coming from you. “it’s been a rough day i shouldn’t have… i shouldn’t take it out on any of you. i didn’t mean to upset you,” you finally look at him, your eyes almost pleading.

satoru’s brows raise in surprise. “i’m not upset.”

“you haven’t talked to me in two hours.”

“you asked me not to,” he shrugs, again, uselessly. “i was just following orders.”

you watch him like he’s going to reveal a secret. “…really?”

he feels the grin creep on his face. “had to happen sometime.”

you shake your head, though your lips twitch—and satoru might be the only one who can sense that relief, the tiny pinprick of exhaustion leaking onto your skin.

he walks over to the bed, sitting next to you. “tell me about it.”

“you don’t want to hear it. it’s all stupid.”

“hey,” he nudges you, fingertips dancing on your thigh. “you say a lot of stupid things and i always listen.”

“i’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

his head rests on yours. “talk,” he demands, soft.

and he can feel it as the emotions overflow—a secret he’s always kept to himself, that knowledge of everything that happens within your body, the walls that can’t keep him out—but he doesn’t move. just waits.

it’s sort of excruciating, but then you’re always telling him that he’s a masochist.

“i was just thinking about…” satoru hears you swallow, and he nods against your head like he understands even though he doesn’t. “about everything.”

“wow. way to narrow it down.”

you pinch his leg.

he grabs your hand, tucking it under two of his as a pure method of defense. your skin is warm and a bit clammy.

“i—“ you pause. breathe in and out very slowly. “nanami called me, yesterday.”

satoru freezes. the two of you almost avoid talking about school—about jujutsu—on principle. like you’re trying to distance yourself from the years of wear and tear. banish all of the bad from a broken timeline.

“he did?” he whispers, eventually.

“he, um, wants to get lunch or something. sometime. talk about stuff.”

“that’s… nice.”

you laugh. “it’s nice that the only other person left in my year is finally reaching out?” you say, dryly. “after leaving me, and pretty much everything else behind? and that he wants to talk?”

satoru muses, “nanami always knew all the best lunch spots.”

“you would only care about that.”

“hey, a free meal is no joke.”

“says the man who bought four separate dinners last week. and ate them all.”

“i can't control the cravings,” satoru says, whining to you, “i’m a growing boy.”

you laugh, and satoru takes pride in the way your body shakes against him. the little giggle he’d like to claim as his own.

“so, did he say why? something happen?”

“no… i’ll text him, every once and a while. just to check in, you know. but he usually doesn’t answer,” there’s an edge to your words, and you brush it off. “he probably just feels guilty. thinks i’m pining for him, or something.”

satoru snorts. “because nanami has ever felt guilty about anything.”

you sigh. “he does, actually,” you turn to meet his eyes. “why do you think he left?”

satoru considers it, for just a second too long. he thinks about what he might feel if you left instead. and then he throws that thought as far away from the two of you as possible. “…i don’t know.”

“he never really liked being a sorcerer, obviously. but after haibara… nanami isn’t like you and me. he can’t just—just shut out those feelings. ignore them,” you shake your head, pulling your hand from satoru’s.

“what do you mean?” he asks, before he can think about it.

your lip twitches, and you shake your head at him. you know so much more than he does, and he’s not sure how to catch up.

but you don’t give him the chance. “i know—i know he had to leave. i mean, i’ve thought about it too, how much easier everything would be if i…”

there’s a moment where satoru feels frozen to his core. like he’ll never be able to hold onto tight enough to get you to stay. that he’ll lose another person just because he wasn’t strong enough.

but you smile at him, sort of sad, and then you say, “i just don’t know why he had to leave me, too.”

his face falls, seeing the glimmer of sliver in your eyes.

satoru has seen you cry before. at movies, on difficult missions, when tsumiki asked to cuddle on the couch with you for the first time. he’s seen it before, the tears sliding down your face like a release he’ll never get to know.

but it’s never made him feel like this. never made him feel like he might tear through the world—might return to that numb space, where nothing really matters—just so he doesn’t have to see it ever again.

you wipe the tear away as it comes.

he understands that feeling so completely. that inevitable question, where there’s no stopping the thought that maybe if you did something different, it might not have happened. maybe if he was enough, satoru thinks, he could’ve gotten him to stay.

but this isn’t about him. and he doesn’t want to tell you that he’s pretty sure the feeling will never go away.

satoru licks his lips, so angry that he never knows what to say.

so angry that he's never been enough for this.

“sorry,” you whisper, voice a bit rough with emotion. “i know it’s silly. it’s his life.”

“it’s not,” he answers immediately. “it’s not silly.”

you give him a half smile, finally leaning away. you look down at the floor, still considering something with your brows furrowed.

“what?” satoru leans forward, to catch your eyes.

you sigh. “it’s stupid to be sad about this when i have so much to be grateful for,” you tell him, quickly, the words harsher than before. “i'm always telling megumi to try and focus on the good and appreciate the people he has instead of worrying. but—here i am, feeling sorry for myself about something that shouldn’t even matter.”

“megumi gets stuck in those thoughts for weeks,” satoru responds, just as quickly. “you can have a bad day.”

you shake your head. “you never do.”

satoru falters, pausing. and then he reaches out, turning your head towards him. and he throws on his smile—the one he knows will make you roll your eyes. “that’s because all of my days are bad,” he whispers.

you smile back. it's an offering, of sorts. “true.”

he frowns at you, still unsure how to relieve this pain. “you take good care of all of us,” he says, instead.

“i know.”

you lean your forehead against his, not protesting when satoru wraps his arms around you in response, pulling you tighter into him—trying to pretend like eventually he’ll let you go.

he moves to rest his head on yours, nuzzling into your hair, breathing you in--hoping that your presence alone will tell him what to do. because you always know.

what would you do if the situations were reversed?

“let me take care of you, okay?” the words are so sudden that you try to pull back, but he doesn’t let you. “if you’re having a bad day, let me handle dinner. or take the kids to their clubs. anything to help you feel… lighter. and when you get lunch with nanami, you don’t have to worry about us. we’ll be okay.”

“satoru…”

“i know that i pushed this all on you,” he smiles, sheepishly, the only version of apology he knows. “but there’s no one who would’ve handled it better. and i… i don’t want you to regret any—“ he cuts off, unsure what he even means.

“i’ll never regret it. i never have.” this time, you force him to let you meet his eyes. “you don’t need to worry about that.”

“i wasn’t,” he answers, lying.

you laugh.

satoru’s eyes soften at your smile. “talk to me, next time, okay? i like it when you need me.”

you push him away.

and at the same time, there’s a knock on the door, and two tiny heads peeking in.

“you guys okay?” tsumiki asks, her eyes blinking over the tangled legs and tear stains.

megumi doesn’t even pause before saying, “gojo did you eat all of the mochi?”

satoru grins.

you groan and megumi probably throws something at him, but satoru isn’t really paying attention.

just staring at you. for a different reason this time.

next part | series masterlist.

#gojo satoru #jjk fanfic #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #satoru gojo #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x reader #satorugojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojō x reader #a typical family

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amourcheol · 2 years ago

Text

paris (teaser)

❝You and Jeonghan, jazz-filled corners, hidden history, and the city of love.❞

historical! au | exes to lovers! au | angst, fluff, smut | approx. 45k words (teaser wc. 1.4k words)

s u m m a r y : disgraced by hollywood for the last time, you, a once superstar-turned-alcoholic, escape to the city of love to seek sanctuary from the ruthless tabloids. your sanctuary comes in the form of film noir superstar yoon jeonghan, the enigmatic man who taught you the art of acting, lust and love before your fame. when he asks to meet you once, just like old times, you cannot refuse. what is meant to be a simple date turns into a path of passion, pain and everything that comes with fooling around with your ex in the jazz-filled corners of paris.

c o n t e n t s : actor! mc, actor! jeonghan, mc is incredibly bitter and makes bad decisions, agent! seungkwan who is tired of fixing them, jeonghan is the suavest, sultriest mf, mentions of parisian landmarks in this fic, also a bit of french peppered throughout, greek mythology art references, tons of fluff which is also layered with angst, this will be very hurt-comfort, hella ansgty but will have a happy ending mature warnings -> alcohol consumption and abuse, smoking, this is basically sexual tension with plot, slightly drunk making out, oral sex (f. receiving) unprotected sex (refer point to bad decisions), very soft angsty sex, body worshipping, petnames (chérie, mon ange, darling, angel), overall emotional rollercoaster, more tba!

p l a y l i s t : here!

t a g l i s t : @hyuckworld @sysymei @alaypsy23 @belladaises @jjeongddol @sparklyshuji @forcoups @ilovesungjun @wonwoo24 @scandal-in-bohemia @hopefulchick @superbbananananana @onedumbho3 @fragmentof-indifference @cuntycheol @rubywonu @if-i-like-i-reblog @yoonzinoooo @jungwoos-luvr @crookedwolfruins @leclercloverbot @alexai (let me know if y’all want to be tagged!)

a u t h o r ’ s n o t e : after three years ... four rewritings later... she may finally see the light ... i am releasing the teaser now but will post the fic when i’m back from holiday! i hope you all enjoy the lil extract <3

read this fic here!

SHIT. YOU COULD NOT DO THIS TODAY.

Suddenly, you wished he was a mere figment of your imagination, because then he would not have to see you in your drunken, disordered state, looking for art that was not there, looking for the past in the present.

But then he began to move.

This very real presence walked closer to you, and you felt your entire body constricting, because Yoon Jeonghan was in front of you, the greatest star in the world was approaching you, the man of your distant memories was coming too close.

“Wait,” he then said, and your throat was closing up, you were blinking rapidly, chest growing heavy, and you needed him to get away. He came closer, and you knew then and there you were going to die on the cold floor of the Louvre, marble eyes on you—

And then your own gaze was glistening, and when he noticed it became harder to contain yourself. “_____, are you all right?”

“Yes!” you got out, but then you proved yourself wrong when a few tears slipped out, staining your cheeks.

The man wasted no time, closing the last space between the two of you as he reached out. Instantly, you repelled from his touch, almost flinching from his surprise. “No!” you rasped out, bringing out your own hands to create distance, taking a step back. “No, you don’t need to do that…I’m fine.”

You breathed sharply through your nose. “I am fine.”

Hastily you turned to the empty space where he last was, before you followed him like a madwoman around the hall. He watched you, your back almost to him. “What…what are you…” you paused, trying to normalise your shaking voice. “What are you doing here?”

You could feel his inquisitive stare upon you. “I could ask you the same thing.”

That question was not being answered. “I asked you first.”

Because you could not see him, you were not aware of his reaction. Still, it was enough for him to answer, “Well, in the Louvre, or in Paris?”

You gritted your teeth at that. “I think everyone knows why you’re in Paris at the moment.”

“Do they, now?”

You could not help it.

Casting a momentary glance at him, you were taken aback to find his gaze upon you. “Are you aware, at least?” he asked you.

Despite his simple questions, your impending headache, you had to clamp down on your remarks. “Of course I’m aware,” you muttered. “The papers are all over the press tours you’ve been doing.”

A perfectly groomed brow arched at your comment. “I’m surprised you follow the papers at the moment.”

You knew exactly what he meant. “One must keep check of the stories they gossip about,” you only said, focusing back on the empty space. “Those journalists cannot be trusted.”

“Hmm…” you heard shuffling amongst his clothes—no doubt crossing his arms. “I have read the stories.”

A scoff. “I suppose you believe them, don’t you?”

He noted the cruelty in your response. The actor did not take it to heart.

“I have always believed in the stories you told me, chérie.”

This time, curiosity controlled your movement.

Curiosity had you turning back, forcing you to observe his expression, catch his lie.

But you found no deception.

No, there was only sincerity—pure as the moonlight shining on the two of you.

Chérie.

The last time someone had called you such a sweet name was too long ago.

How ironic, that it was the same man beside you who had bestowed you this very endearment.

A shuddered breath left you.

You could not do this now.

You were going to say as much when Jeonghan interrupted you.

“Were you looking for something in here?”

Your furrowed brows had him humming. “I thought as much.” Gently, he jerked his head beyond your figure. “Strangely enough, I was looking for it as well.”

Confused, you glanced back at the empty space, where that certain, mysterious sculpture was supposed to be. “That is why I came to the Louvre,” you heard him say.

There was still suspicion laced in your features. “How do you know that we are thinking of the same piece?”

That ghost of a smile crept up again. “You act as if you don’t remember.”

Your sigh was a little sheepish. “I do,” you said, reminiscing on the memories. “But the name…”

No matter how hard you endeavoured, your memory of the sculpture was too hazy for your half-drunk mind.

You searched him for an answer. “I’m sure you have not forgotten.”

“No…I have not.”

You waited. His silence had you insisting, “Well?”

When you saw a slight glimmer in his whimsical gaze, you knew that he had something else in mind. The implications had you biting your lower lip, anxiety blooming.

The nerves grew when Jeonghan spoke.

“I will tell you if you see me tomorrow.”

You blinked back.

“There’s an exhibition opening here tomorrow afternoon,” he continued, taking a step towards you, careful not to startle you again. “It’s centred on the sculpture we both wanted to see, but it’s been moved to another hall.”

He confused you a great amount. “How do you know that?”

His stare went beyond you, to the wall. “It says on the plaque.”

Sure enough—when you looked back, there was the notice. Because your French was adequate at best, you did not understand it fully. You simply had to trust his linguistic abilities.

That you could do—you were aware of Jeonghan’s fluency in the language of love.

He cocked his head, a few strays cascading the side of his face. “You and I could see it there.”

The offer had shaken you. “Why?”

“Why?”

You knitted your brows suspiciously. “Why do you want to go with me?”

The film noir star watched you then, you shuffling uncomfortably under his scrutiny. God, you forgot how intense his eyes were—in fairness, you had not been the subject of his stares for a few years.

He locked his gloved hands behind his back. “Because you need a break, _____. From everything.”

He offered you a smile. “Let me be the one to give you that. If only for the day.”

You could have crumbled before him.

It was at this stage you cursed yourself for being in such a state. Perhaps if you were sober, you would have carried on this conversation in a more respectable manner, taken more caution.

It was incredibly difficult, composing yourself around the man.

“I can’t…” you inhaled sharply, trying to form the words. “I cannot do midday…too many people, you know…staring, judging…”

“Ah.” He nodded, parting his mouth in thought. “Then tomorrow night?”

Stretching your mouth, unsure, he assured, “They will not follow you here at this hour.”

“How are you so sure of that?”

This time, he sighed, surprised at your anxiousness. “I see you’ve not changed, then.”

You narrowed your gaze. “What is that supposed to mean?”

But the actor did not seem like he was going to elaborate.

He instead took another step towards you, a mere two feet left.

“Do you trust me?”

You tilted your head back.

What kind of question was that?

Do you trust me?

You did not trust anyone. Not after this whole debacle back home, when almost all your friends within the industry had contributed to your downfall. Hollywood was filled with traitors, the worst being the people who haunted the journey of your disgrace at every moment.

It was impossible to place any ounce of faith in another.

As you watched his eyes settle on you, you noticed an emotion you had not witnessed in forever.

Tenderness.

Tenderness with no ulterior motive—gentle acceptance, as if he recognised your position. As if he recognised your change, the apprehensive nature of your questions, your pauses. It physically hurt being stained with such compassion, when you had been begging for it from the world all those weeks ago.

It hurt, having someone who understood you.

You, however, should not have been surprised.

Yoon Jeonghan had always been like this. Especially when you both were together.

You could have smiled.

What a time that was.

As if he could read your mind, the film noir star began, “You remember, don’t you? That I’ve never let you down?”

You decided to let yourself slip—you could always blame it on the alcohol.

“What time do you want me here tomorrow?”

#seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #yoon jeonghan imagines #jeonghan imagines #yoon jeonghan smut #jeonghan smut #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #jeonghan x reader #svt smut #svt imagines #yoon jeonghan x reader #seventeen hard hours #svt hard hours #yoon jeonghan #seventeen angst #jeonghan angst #yoon jeonghan angst

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baby-yongbok · 1 year ago

Note

OK I saw an anon asking for another hyunjin fic bc of the vmas (tbfh same) and have an idea for another vmas hyunjin fic (if you’re up for it) hear me out:

apparently people were freaking out the other day bc there was this video going around of Sabrina carpenter waving at hyunjin when it turned OUT she was actually waving to Dixie damelio bc they’re friends…what if y/n saw that and thought she was waving at hyunjin too and got super jealous? I know I would even though I love Sabrina lol. so she starts giving hyunjin the cold shoulder and answering in one word responses etc and he’s confused so she says something like “why don’t you ask your new girlfriend” and he thinks it’s cute that she’s jealous and reveals Sabrina was waving to Dixie not him. And even if she did wave to him, he’s 10000% in love with you and absolutely does not want anyone else. Then after their performance and skz is backstage he pulls you into a closet/private room, locks the door and proves to you just how much he wants/worships you and no one else, in his sweaty state 😫 something like that? I haven’t been able to stop thinking about vmas hyunjin either and who can blame me

ps I’ve written to you before and idk if you take emojis for anons but if so can I be 🪽 anon? I love your writing sm and I know I’ll be back! I wanna be friends but I’m a lil shy lol… 🙂

I DID IT. IM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT, DON'T HATE ME. 😭 Here you go, my love ❣️🪽

Let Me Show You

Hyunjin × Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 3,442

Warnings: Semi-public sex?, Cum tasting (That should be it ❣️)

✨️Masterlist✨️ ✨️My First VMA Fic✨️

Surely you were seeing things right? You had to be seeing things. Maybe it was the stage lights or the adrenaline from the boys' win getting to you but you swear that the very beautiful and very talented Sabrina Carpenter just tried to shoot her shot at your equally as beautiful and talented boyfriend. Maybe it was harmless, Sabrina is a K-pop fan so maybe she was just trying to grab his attention and give him a friendly thumbs up or something.

You check your phone while you make your way backstage to meet the boys, of course they’re trending on every app that you have but a particular twitter post catches your eye. You stop in the middle of the very busy backstage hallway as you read the video caption for the third time, ‘Are Sabrina Carpenter and Hyunjin flirting?!’. You click on the video quickly, bringing the phone closer to your face as if you could zoom in on the interaction. It’s right there, it’s in very poor quality but it’s there nonetheless. Hyunjin definitely gave Sabrina a look and according to the video he did it more than once. You can feel your stomach turn as an emotion runs over you but you can’t figure out if it’s anger or jealousy, maybe it’s both? You take a deep breath and start walking again, you stuff your phone into your purse and shake your head a bit to try and get your thoughts together. This is a big night for the boys and you don’t want to ruin it for them by having an attitude but you also don’t know how to deal with this cocktail of emotion bubbling in your veins.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Baby, can you help me put this on?” Hyunjin holds his necklace out in your direction and you take it from him quietly. He furrows his brows a bit before turning around and allowing you to put the jewelry on him. He noticed your shift in attitude since they got their award but he thought that maybe you were just overwhelmed. He watched you as they got ready for their stage, you laughed with everyone and were talking to staff casually but when it came to him you were silent and short spoken. He instantly started replaying the last hour or so in his head. What could he have done to upset you?

“Thank you.” He turns to you and leans in to kiss your cheek but you pull back slightly, looking in the opposite direction. “Angel, is everything alright?”

“Yup.” Your eyes look everywhere but at him, even when he moves to your side to sit next to you.

“Are you sure? You’ve been quiet, did I do something to upset you?” He places his hand on your knee and you promptly cross your legs to get him to move his hand. You shrug your shoulders in response. Your gaze falls on Felix as he takes pictures of everyone in their finished looks. “Baby, come on.”

“Don’t you have someone else to talk to?” You huff, an over exaggerated sigh following your statement.

“Hm? What do you mean?” Hyunjins brows knit together as he racks his brain trying to understand what you’re referring to.

“Why don’t you ask Sabrina? You seem pretty interested in her.” You roll your eyes and Hyunjin raises his eyebrows at your sharp remark. Felix had shown him a couple of the trending tweets along with the video of Sabrina waving in his direction, they laughed about it and Hyunjin told the guys that she definitely wasn’t waving at him and if she was he didn’t even notice her.

“Ah, you saw that video?” You shift in your seat scoffing at his question. A small smile pulls at his lips as he watches you, you don’t get jealous often but gosh was it hot. Something about you giving him the cold shoulder turned Hyunjin on, maybe it was the way you rolled your eyes at him and how sassy you were everytime he tried to touch you. Whatever it was, he was enjoying it.

“Everyone saw the video, so yeah.” You bite back, glancing at him for only a second before looking back over towards the rest of the boys.

“Baby, she wasn’t waving at me and even if she was I didn’t notice her. I was looking at the Stays that were seated in that direction.” Your heart starts to hammer in your chest as his words sink in. You can feel a blush spreading over your cheeks and a tinge of embarrassment in your core. He had pointed out the row of Stays in that direction earlier in the night but in the heat of the moment you completely forgot about it.

“Why would I look at her when I have the most stunning woman in the world here with me tonight, hm?” He snakes his arm over your shoulder and pulls you into a side hug. “Is my jealous girl blushing?”

You hide your face in his chest, trying to avoid his gaze. How embarrassing is this? Looks like you got jealous for nothing.

“Look at me, angel.” Hyunjin tries his best to gently pry you away from him but he’s interrupted by Chan calling everyone to get ready to go over to the stage. You look up, only because you know he has to go but his fingers catch your chin before you can look away again. Your shy gaze meets his and he smiles down at you, but it’s not a regular smile. It’s the type that he uses when he’s up to something. He plants a quick kiss on your lips before standing and holding his hand out to you.

“Come, you can watch on the backstage monitor.” You take his hand reluctantly, an apologetic smile on your face. He shakes his head, chuckling a bit.

“My possessive baby.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The boys absolutely killed their set but that was to be expected. You heard loud clapping and cheering as they made their way from the stage, a mixture of praises both towards the boys and the dancers. You join the busy crowd, clapping and looking through the sea of people for Hyunjin. Suddenly, you feel large hands on your waist and you turn around to see your boyfriend looking down at you with a grin. He’s sweaty and his breathing still hasn’t calmed down completely, He’s discarded the vest that he had on during the performance leaving him in only his black tank top. You open your mouth to congratulate him but he puts a finger over his lips, hushing you before taking your hand and pulling you with him. He makes his way in the opposite direction of the boys, towards the quieter part of the venue. You recognize the hallway from when the boys took pictures earlier, Hyunjin leads you into a small cut off hallway where some extra supplies seem to be stored. He closes the door behind you, placing a piece of paper over the latch so that you two don’t get locked in. He turns to you and you look up at him with confusion woven in your features.

“What are we doing here?” You look around thinking that maybe you missed something.

“You know that you mean the world to me, right?” Your heart starts hammering in your chest again, your grip on your clutch purse growing tighter as embarrassment washes over you again.

“I know, I’m sorry I should’ve asked you instead of drawing conclusions.”

“Don’t apologize, you were being protective of what’s yours.” Hyunjin takes a couple of steps towards you, one hand sliding into the pocket of his brown designer pants.

“You know that I’m yours, right?” Your mouth goes dry when you take in his deepened tone, what exactly did he bring you here to do? You press your thighs together, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. Your black form fitting dress rides up a bit from movement. “Answer me, angel.”

“Yes, I know you’re mine.” You clear your throat, trying not to show how much his words are affecting you.

“I only want you, you’re the only woman I ever think about, the only woman I ever look at.” He steps closer, reaching up to cup your cheek. You close your eyes and lean into his hand. His fingers brush against your lips. “Do you believe me?”

You shake your head, opening your eyes to meet his. He smiles at you before leaning down and pressing his lips to yours. You kiss him back, melting into him. Your arms find a home around his neck as he deepens the kiss, his tongue parts your lips, slipping into your mouth and stealing a taste of you. You moan into his mouth and he smiles against your lips. He pushes you back gently, prompting you to take a step back. He leads you backwards until your back hits the wall, you gasp, breaking the kiss and Hyunjin takes it as an opportunity to trail soft kisses over your jaw and down your neck.

“Hyunjin…we can’t do this here.” Your words are anything but convincing and you know for a fact that you don’t mean them. After the rush of jealousy that you felt earlier topped off with the breathtaking performance that he just put on with the boys’ you know that your body is more than ready for him.

“Let me show just how much I love you.” He plants a wet kiss right below your ear before whispering. “I want you to feel how much I want you, only you.”

Hyunjin presses himself against you and you moan at the feeling of his hard dick straining against his pants. “Only you do that to me.”

“Hyunjin.” His name leaves your lips in a breathy moan, you can’t think of anything else to possibly say. He’s completely fogged your mind.

He starts leaving sloppy open mouth kisses on your neck, rough yet slow actions of affection. His hands trace up your sides, lightly scratching at the fabric of your Versace cocktail dress, dragging the fabric up your soft skin and exposing your plush thighs.You trail your free hand down his arm, moving to palm him through his pants but one of his hands swiftly grabs your wrist, pinning your arm to the wall behind you.

“This is about you, baby. Only you.” He whispers against your skin before his lips make their way down to your chest, sucking and biting at your skin leaving red marks in his wake. His other hand grips at your waist, pulling you towards him and making you arch your back off of the wall.

“I’m all yours baby.” He slides down onto his knees. Sitting in front of you, his large hands trailing down the soft skin of your legs. He looks up at you, his sparkling eyes surrendering to you. “I would never worship another woman like this in my life.”

He leans forward, pressing soft kisses to the outside of your thigh and making his way to the sensitive skin leading to your core. You spread your legs a bit to give him better access and he groans at the gesture. His hands snake up under your dress, he hooks his thumbs into the thin straps of your thong and leads the garment down your legs. You step out of them, and Hyunjin wastes no time bringing them up to his nose and taking a deep inhale.

“Fuck, I love the smell of you.” His words are breathy yet stable, he stuffs your thong into his pocket, a treasure for him to remember this moment by. He peers up into your attentive yet fucked out gaze, watching you as he sneaks the pad of his pointer finger up to caress your soaked folds. You jump at the contact, a deep moan leaving your throat, you hadn’t realized how much you needed his touch until now. You relax as he runs his finger up and down your heat, circling your clit and teasing your entrance a bit. Your hips buck against his hand, silently begging him to stretch you. Small whimpers fall from your parted lips as you keep your eyes on his.

“You sound so beautiful, angel. You’re so fucking perfect.” He pushes his finger into you slowly, curling it upward to caress your g-spot. You bring your hand up to your mouth in an attempt to drown out your moans. Hyunjin shakes his head, fucking his finger into you a bit faster. “Let them hear you, I don’t care who it is, Let them hear what I do to you.”

“Hyun- Fuck” He adds another finger, scissoring them inside of you to stretch you out. “Oh my god, that's so good.”

“Only the best for you, this is only for you.” He leans up on his knees, sticking his tongue out and licking up the wetness dripping down your inner thigh. His tongue works its way over to your cunt, flicking your clit at a delicious pace that makes your back arch off of the wall further. He hums against you as you buck your hips, fucking yourself on his fingers and tongue. You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your body trembling as you beg him to keep going. He keeps up the pace, his tongue never stopping until you're finally pushed over the edge. You cry out in bliss as you cum hard, your body trembling with pleasure. He laps up every bit of your arousal that he can catch, leaving light kisses on your swollen clit as he allows you to come down from your high just a bit.

“You taste like heaven” Hyunjin groans as he pulls away from you, licking his lips to clean up the mess you made. Your mind is clouded with lust, the jealousy from earlier nearly forgotten. The only thing on your mind now is how badly you want the man in front of you. How badly you need him inside of you.

“I can feel like heaven for you too.”

“This is about you, angel.”

“Then fuck me, please. If this is about me then make me forget about that stupid tweet. You’d do anything to please me right?” Hyunjin, stands from his position in front of you. Your eyes stay locked on his dark ones as he towers over you.

“I’d do anything to please you.” His words are soft and strong, he leans into you, catching your lips in a sweet kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue as the kiss deepens, the gentle nature that Hyunjin held seconds ago melting away into a frenzied lust.

“You drive me insane.” He whispers against your lips and you moan into his mouth. Your hands run down his clothed chest, taking in his firm core and his shirt damp with sweat. You run your hand over his hard cock, palming and stroking him. A pornographic moan erupts from his throat, he breaks the kiss and his jaw hangs open in bliss. You look up at him, watching as he bites his lip with his eyes shut tight, concentrating on the way your fingers move against him.

“I want you to fuck me like she’s watching.” Hyunjin groans deeply, furrowing his brows at your words. “Show her that you’re taken.”

Your words flipped a switch in Hyunjins head, he grabs your hip, turning you around and swiftly pulling your dress up to expose your bare ass. He lands a firm smack on both of your ass cheeks, the sound echoing throughout the room.

“I’ll show her.” He presses his clothed bulge against you and you can feel him unbuttoning his pants with one hand. “I’ll show her who I belong to.”

He runs his hands over your bare skin, his touch gentle yet possessive. He leans in and whispers in your ear “I’ll let everyone know I’m yours.”

You gasp as you feel his cock part your dripping folds, stretching you out deliciously. He pushes in slowly, allowing you a bit of time to adjust to him. Your moans fill the air as he slides into you, once he bottoms out he leans forward, pressing you into the wall so that you’re flush against him.

“I’m yours” He moans as he starts to move, his hips pushing against yours in a rhythm that intensifies with each thrust. The sound of skin slapping echoes through the hallway but is easily drowned out by your shared moans. Your head falls back against Hyunjin’s chest giving him the perfect view of your fucked out expression. He leans down, leaving soft kisses on your forehead, a sweet contrast to the rough thrust of his hips.

“You’re mine.” Your words make Hyunjin’s hips stutter, pushing into you deeper, he bites his lip as he takes it all in. The way you’re clenching around him, your moans mixing with his, the way the head of his cock hits your sweet spot. It all drives him closer to the edge.

“You were right.” His thrusts become faster and harder and you squeeze around him as you draw closer to your release, meeting his rhythm with pleasure. “You do feel like heaven.”

His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hips as he comes undone, his moans mingle with yours as he fills you. The feeling of his hot release throws you over the edge, you fall apart seconds after him, his name falls from your lips like a chant as your pleasure washes over you. You both still, his dick stays deep inside of you as you both try to catch your breath.

“Thank you.” Hyunjin hums in response, soft pants falling from his lips.

“For what?”

“For showing me that you’re mine, this might’ve been the best type of reassurance ever.” You chuckle and he follows, a wide smile spreading across his face.

“I’m glad that you enjoyed yourself. But, please remember that I mean this, there’s never anyone on my mind but you. You’re all I think about.” His sweet words send a shiver down your spine and you can’t help but to clench around him.

“Oh fuck.” Hyunjin groans with a chuckle and you can’t help but to smile. “I need to pull out, I don’t think I’ll be able to control myself if you do that again.”

He slides out of you slowly, whines escape both of you from the sensitivity of the action. He tucks himself back into his pants and you turn around to face him, still leaning on the wall for support.

“How am I supposed to go back out there with your cum dripping out of me?” You look down at the mixed arousal running down your leg and Hyunjin smiles at you.

“Here.” You watch him as he kneels before you, dipping his tongue out and licking the stream of cum running down your leg. A groan falls from your lips as you watch him taste your mixed arousals. He trails his tongue up your leg, collecting all of the juices that drip from you until he reaches your swollen cunt. He runs his tongue over the sensitive flesh and you shiver in response, your head falling back against the wall and a moan escaping you.

“Baby, I’m so sensitive.” Hyunjin hums in response and the feeling of the sound vibrating through you makes you clench around nothing. He dips his tongue into your hole, lapping up most of your arousal and cleaning your cunt to perfection. Once he’s satisfied he pulls away and stands, wiping his chin clean and smiling at you. He gives you a moment to recover before taking your chin between his fingers and tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

“Next time that you get jealous just remember that you and I are made for each other. We’re perfect together.” You smile up at him and he leans forward kissing you with wet lips. He parts your lips with his tongue and gently runs his over yours. The taste of your mixed arousals flood your mouth and you relish the flavor. He breaks the kiss just as you move to deepen it, a slight whine falling from your lips. He grins down at you before running his thumb over your swollen bottom lip

“See? Don’t we taste good together? I only want you to mix with me, no one else, okay?” You nod your head, a sweet fucked out smile pulling at your lips. “I love you, angel”

“I love you too, baby.”

606 notes · View notes

berberriescorner · 7 months ago

Text

“Echoes of Redemption”

Characters: Jay Halstead x Black!Reader.

Summary: After a tumultuous relationship marked by Jay Halstead's absences and affairs, you begin to rebuild your life.

Warnings: A smidge of profanity, a bit of humor, angst, anger, fluff, and a lil’ smut👀😆.

Word Count: 5,000+.

A/N: This is my first Halstead fix, but hopefully you lovelies will love it🩵.

Inspired By🩵:

Adam cradled your work bag and purse in one hand, his broad shoulders carrying the weight of your exhaustion. His free hand pressed the down button for the elevator, the soft ping of the mechanism cutting through the silence. You sighed deeply, closing your eyes for a brief moment, letting the weariness wash over you.

“Tired?” he asked, concern lacing his voice.

“Exhausted. I could sleep for days,” you responded, the fatigue squinting your eyes. A massive yawn escaped your lips as the elevator doors slid open. You leaned against the wall for support, stifling another yawn. “Sorry,” you murmured.

“It’s all good. I hope you can get some rest once you’re home,” he said, as his voice comforted your frazzled nerves.

“Thanks, Adam. For everything. You've all been so supportive. Even if it's a bit awkward.”

The elevator dinged, and Adam gestured for you to step out first. He spotted a nearby vending machine and asked, “Did you eat today?”

Not waiting for your answer, he walked over to the whirring machine and purchased a bottle of water and a bag of smart popcorn. You sank onto a bench, grateful for the brief respite. Adam returned, popping open the snack and handing you the bag and the beverage. The two of you continued on your journey to the parking lot.

“Maybe this can give you a bit of energy.”

“Adam, you don't have to make such a fuss. You, Kim, Kevin, and Voight have already done enough. I can't believe she made a time chart so everyone can take turns escorting me to these appointments. She even has poor Dante in on it. That baby has his hands full taking care of himself. Bless his heart.”

“Are you kidding me? You're family. That’s what you do for loved ones,” he assured you, his eyes steady and sincere.

“Is this not awkward for you guys? Hailey’s your friend too,” you grudgingly admitted.

“Yes, but we knew you first. We're not going to abandon years of friendship over drama. We support her just as we do you. J—”

“Adam, please don't. The thought of him is even more stressful. Thanks for the snack. I can finish this in the car. I'm ready to get home to my comfy bed. It's been a long day.”

You caught a flicker of emotion in Adam's eyes, but he quickly masked it. Clearing his throat, he agreed, “You’re right. Let's get you home. Kim’s making me and Mak’s favorite dinner tonight,” he bragged, trying to lighten the mood.

“You bring baby girl next time. I miss her cute wittle face,” you demanded.

“Yes, ma’am.”

The walk to the exit grew quiet and tense. You glanced at Adam out of the corner of your eye.

“You good?”

“Y-yeah. Just thinking about a case,” he lied, his voice unconvincing.

As he opened the door, you started to press about the case. But your words caught in your throat at the sight of a figure standing across the parking lot. Your gaze locked onto the face, shock coursing through you. You spun around, the question about the case forgotten. "Tell me you didn't. What is he doing here?"

Adam scratched the back of his neck, looking apologetic. “Sorry, sis. The moment Hailey found out, she said he deserved to know. It was either she’d tell him, or Kevin and I. Kim was against it all. Voight was neutral.”

“I told you I would tell him on my own time!”

“When would that have been? You've been putting it off for three months now,” Adam argued.

“You don't get it. None of you know the entirety of the situation. I'm not just some home-wrecking whore. If anything, my home was the one that took the damage. You might want to remind Hailey of that, given that she's out here giving an ultimatum based on my life.”

Your gaze fixated on the once-sparkling eyes that had the power to make your heart flutter. Now, those same eyes left your heart in ruins, a painful reminder of what was lost.

“Why are you here? Shouldn't you be somewhere across an ocean or something?”

Jay walked up slowly like he was approaching a wounded animal. He stood a few inches away from you, hands buried in his pockets, looking down. “I just want to talk,” he begged.

“Now you want to have a conversation? Why, Jay? Why are you here? You made your choice.”

“Did I make my choice?”

“Walking—sorry, running—away was a choice. Was it not?”

His eyes locked with yours as he pleaded, “I know you hate me, but please, just one conversation? I took leave as soon as I found out.”

“Are you supposed to get brownie points for that,” you snapped.

“Sweetheart—”

“You don't get to call me that,” you growled.

Adam’s hand rested on your shoulder, the turmoil between two of his dearest friends cutting deep. It reminded him of the trying times he and Kim had gone through. He held out hope that you two would find some resolve.

“You know this exchange needs to happen. Maybe you'll find clarity,” Adam said, looking you in the eyes. “I'm sure he’s come to his senses over the past couple of months. Surely he realizes he could have handled the situation better and that he was being stupid.”

"Thanks, Adam. That's incredibly helpful," Jay retorted with a sarcastic edge.

Ruzek shot him a glare. “As I was saying, this needs to happen. Do me a favor. Let him drive you home. Give him however much time you want to explain himself. Discuss the most important things. Then you can either reconcile or tell him to go to hell.”

Jay threw his hands in the air. Adam cut his eyes to him. “Being my bro doesn't give you a pass. I'm going to call you on your shit. You know that.”

“Reconcile? You must have confused me with Hailey.”

“Damn it, sis.”

“Fine,” you snarled, turning to head toward Jay's truck.

“Thanks! Love you,” Ruzek shouted as you flipped them both off.

Adam shoved your belongings into Jay’s chest. His voice dropped into a menacing, judgemental tone. “Glad to have you back, brother. Try not to leave things as messed up as you did the last time. When are you going to stop screwing her over and flipping her life upside down? You better make this right.”

“I will make it right with everyone involved.”

“No, just her. You've got to choose, and it needs to be her.”

“Who says I hadn't already tried to do that?”

“Yeah, and then you changed your mind.”

“That's not what I meant to do. You know what, Ruzek? I know I screwed up. Can we pause this lecture so I can try and rectify my mistakes?”

Adam paused for emphasis. He needed Jay to listen to the advice he was about to give, to let it sink in truly.

"You messed up, Halstead," Adam said, his voice gruff but laced with concern. "But you gotta fight for her. Show her you mean it this time." Jay clenched his jaw, the truth of Adam's words scraping at his already sore conscience.

“I hear you, brother. Truly. I’ve been stupid far too long, and it’s time I get my life in order. I just–needed to get away. To finish something I’d run from for far too long. I took that time away to figure out how to stop sabotaging the things and people I love most.

Adam nodded his head before laying into him once more, “I swear to God, Jay Halstead, if you mess this up again—if you don't manage to pull your head out of your ass—Kevin and I are going to knock you out cold.”

“It sure is good to be home,” Jay sighed, walking toward the passenger door. He unlocked it and helped you, vertically challenged as you were, into the monstrous truck.

The minute your butt hit the seat, you snatched away from him. He slid into the driver's seat, reaching across to buckle your seatbelt as he had in the past. He jumped back as you slapped his hand away.

“I’ve got it. Just drive.”

Half the drive to your apartment was filled with tense silence. Jay couldn't take it any longer. He cleared his throat, attempting to engage in conversation.

“How have you been? You look as beautiful as ever.”

Your head snapped to the side as if you had been struck. Jay kept his eyes on the road, but he could feel your piercing glare.

“Look, I'm trying not to raise my blood pressure these days. Do me a favor and keep the stupid ass questions to a minimum,” you hissed.

“Jesus, Y/N. No matter what I say, it’s going to upset you. I admit it’s well-deserved, but can't we be civil until we at least get to the house?”

“Civil? Are you trying to gaslight me right now? You don't deserve civility. How about we ride in silence? Nothing I say to you is going to be nice, Jay.”

“Silence it is.”

The sight of your driveway eased the tension in Jay's shoulders. He shut off the engine, the rumble fading into the quiet hum of the neighborhood. Stepping out of the dusty truck, his legs ached from hours on the road, but he glided to your passenger door.

"Hey there," he greeted with a hint of breathlessness in his voice. He started to reach out, but you mumbled a quick "thanks" as you slid out and brushed past him, already digging in your purse for your keys.

Jay lingered on the curb briefly, a flicker of disappointment crossing his features before the familiar puppy-dog eyes returned. You rolled your eyes playfully, the sound masking the growing unease in your stomach. "Alright, alright. I'll hear you out," you conceded, finally finding your keys. "But I swear if you—"

Your playful threat was cut short by the sudden seriousness in Jay's voice. He reached out, his fingers brushing against yours as he placed the keys inside your pants pocket. "I've got it," he murmured, his gaze dropping to the worn metal in his hand. He chewed his lip nervously a stark contrast to his usual confident demeanor.

"Why keep my spare key?" you asked, suspicion evident.

Jay hesitated, his shoulders slumping slightly. When he met your gaze again, his eyes were a storm of hidden emotions. Sadness mingled with something deeper, something you couldn't quite place. "I wasn't planning to leave," he admitted, his voice thick with regret. "Not for good, that is."

You sighed, the energy draining from your body like air from a punctured balloon. The weight of his words settled on you, heavy and unspoken. "Right," you said, your voice flat. "Just unlock the door, Jay. My feet are killing me."

As Jay unlocked the door and pushed it open, you stepped inside and felt a wave of relief wash over you. The familiar comfort of home was opposite the whirlwind of emotions you were feeling. You kicked off your shoes and trudged towards the living room, dropping onto the couch with a heavy sigh. Jay followed, lingering in the doorway as if unsure whether to stand or join you.

You looked up at him, the silence between you charged with unresolved tension. "You can sit, Jay. I won't bite your head off. I'll try not to that is."

He nodded and sat down on the opposite end of the couch, his posture rigid. "Thanks."

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet settling around you like a heavy blanket. Finally, Jay broke the silence. "I know you're angry. You have every right to be. But I need you to know that I never meant for things to get this bad. Before I get into all of that. I have to ask. It’s a stupid question, and I probably already know the answer. Why didn't you respond to any of my letters? Did you read any of them?”

“No.”

“Not even the emails or texts?”

“Nope,” you responded, emphasizing the letter p.

“If you had read them. You would've known that I tried to explain myself even if they were selfish reasons. Part of you may have understood why I did what I did.”

“Well, I didn't, Jay. You left without even saying goodbye. You didn't deserve another moment of my time. Be grateful you're getting it now.” You glanced at him, your expression guarded. "Why did you come back, Jay? Really?"

He took a deep breath, his eyes searching yours. "Because I found out you're pregnant."

Emotions crashed over you all at once. "So that's it? They tell you I'm pregnant and you come running back?"

"It's not just about the baby," he insisted. "I want to be here for you, for us. I realized that running away was a mistake. I thought I was protecting you, but I was just being a coward. I want to make things right, if you'll let me."

"Make things right?" you echoed, a hint of bitterness in your voice. "You think you can just come back and fix everything with a few words? Every time we've faced an obstacle, you've chosen everything over me. Your career, your fleeting moment of weakness for Hailey, even leaving to return to the army. How do I know this time will be different?"

Memories of your tumultuous past resurfaced. You and Jay had started dating years ago, your connection was instant and intense. Things got serious quickly, but Jay's fear of commitment led him to break things off and pursue a relationship with Erin Lindsay. When Erin left for an FBI job, Jay came running back to you, realizing he'd only gotten involved with her as a means to run from commitment as always.

You took him back, and things got serious again. Only that time his career became increasingly dangerous, and your constant fear for his safety caused a rift. He chose his job over you, and the two of you broke up. That time it hadn't hurt as much. You had no right to force him to choose between a career and the woman he loved. You took it as a sign that perhaps you just needed time apart.

After some time, you started to slowly rebuild your relationship, only for Jay to start having feelings for Hailey Upton. Though you know the responsibility lay mostly in your man. You still felt a way about Hailey deciding to pursue him anyway. She knew the two of you were amid reconciliation. Even with that knowledge, she still initiated the kiss and confession of attraction that confused Jay.

You argued over his feelings for the both of you and eventually, you broke up. Jay pursued things with Hailey, and while at first, it was just hooking up, things eventually got serious. Your weakness for him led to the two of you still sleeping together, but when Hailey discovered the two of you were still involved. Suddenly she wanted a committed relationship, Jay chose her. They got married (out of Jay’s perverse sense of loyalty and obligation to the team), and you tried to move on. But Jay's jealousy and selfish attempts to sabotage your relationships made it clear he was still not over you.

He soon realized he made a mistake getting involved with Hailey. You refused to take him back until he was a single man, and after a quick divorce, Jay struggled with wanting to serve a bigger purpose. It was as if he was in the midst of an early midlife crisis. Just as you two had started to rekindle your romance and rebuild, he up and left to rejoin the army.

As you were trying to pick up the broken pieces of your heart, you discovered the pregnancy. Jay found out from your friends and returned home to explain himself, determined to make things right this time. The touch of his fingers gliding across your cheek brought you back to the present. You tilted back from his touch.

“That's what you always do, Jay,” you began, your voice trembling with suppressed emotion. “Run and leave me to deal with the fallout of broken promises and heartbreak. At every turn, you've chosen everyone, everything else, over me. Erin. Your job. Marrying Hailey! Not to mention she's not the first wife, but the second. What is it three times a charm? You’ve already knocked me up. Now all you gotta do is marry me and run. Just like you always do. Hell, you chose the military over me, Jay! So tell me, why? Why should I let you back in and risk you breaking this baby’s heart in the future? Why do you always run, Jay?”

His expression softened, his eyes filled with regret as he listened to your words. He reached out, gently cupping your face in his hands. The pads of his thumbs swiped at the tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Because I was scared, honey,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Scared of messing things up, of not being good enough for you. But I realize now that running away only made things worse, that I can’t keep hiding from my mistakes. I want to be here for you, for our child. I want to make things right, to be the man you deserve.”

Jay met your gaze, his resolve hardening. "No more running," he vowed silently. The fear of losing you forever was a terrifying prospect, but it paled in comparison to the regret of never trying at all. He had to face his demons and fight for the future he longed for.

More tears fell as you looked into his eyes, searching for any sign of sincerity. And there, amidst the pain and regret, you saw it – a glimmer of hope, a flicker of determination.

The weight of your history hung in the air as you sat together, the past intertwining with the present. Jay reached out, his hand gently covering yours. “I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes, and I’ve hurt you more than I can ever make up for. But I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere. I want to be a part of your life, and our child’s life, if you’ll let me.”

“I’m tired of being hurt, Jay,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “But if you’re willing to try, if you’re willing to fight for us, then maybe... just maybe, we can find a way to make this work.”

Jay nodded, his grip on your face tightening ever so slightly. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes, sweetheart. I love you, and I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you.”

You looked into his eyes, seeing the pang of regret. “It’s not going to be easy, Jay. We have a lot to work through. But I want to believe that you’ve changed, that you’re here for the right reasons.”

“I am,” he said firmly. “I know I’ve chosen wrong in the past, but I’m choosing you now. I’m choosing us.”

“Okay,” you said, your voice steady. “Let’s take it one step at a time.”

Jay nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. “One step at a time.”

As you sat together, the first glimmers of hope began to shine through the darkness. It was a long road ahead, but with determination and love, you knew you could face whatever challenges came your way, together.

But there was something Jay had kept from you, something he had been working on while he was away. As you looked into his eyes, you saw a hint of hesitation, a flicker of uncertainty.

“There’s something else I need to tell you,” he began, his voice hesitant. “While I was deployed, I... I started talking to a therapist.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in surprise, a million questions flooding your mind. “A therapist? Did something happen while you were away? Are you okay,” you rambled as your mind raced with a thousand different scenarios.

Jay took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. “Honey. Honey, relax. I'm not hurt. I realized that I needed help and that I couldn’t keep running from my problems. I needed to confront my past, to understand why I kept making the same mistakes over and over again.”

“And did it help?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, a sense of relief washing over him. “Yeah, it did. I learned a lot about myself, about the things that drove me to make those mistakes. And I made a promise to myself – and you – that I would come back a better man, that I would do whatever it takes to make things right. I'm going to continue my journey with therapy. After all the pain I've caused. I think it wouldn't hurt to do couples counseling. Only if that's something you're interested in pursuing.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him, a mixture of relief and gratitude flooding your heart. “I'd like that. Thank you,” you whispered, the words barely audible.

Jay reached out, gently wiping away your tears. “I’m sorry for everything I’ve put you through. But I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere. I love you and I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right.”

You leaned into his touch, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. The weight of the past slowly began to lift, replaced by a sense of hope for the future. It wouldn’t be easy, you knew, but with determination and love, you were ready to face whatever challenges came your way, together.

Things grew quiet as the two of you looked longingly at one another. The faintest gasp slipped and you whispered, “Jay, you can't look at me like that.”

His voice low and husky, he responded, “How am I looking at you, sweetheart? I haven't seen or held you in quite some time. Admittedly, I'm the one to blame for that, but there isn't any other way I could look at you right now.”

“Please,” you begged. “Damn it, Jay. Look at me like I disgust you. Just, anything but the way you're staring at me now.”

“You want me to look at you with disgust,” he questioned, already shaking his head no. “That's not possible, honey.”

“Listen to me, Jay Halstead. I'm very pregnant and hormonal right now. I need you to be the bigger person and say that what I'm thinking is a bad idea. You need to be strong for both of us. Go home, Jay. If you don’t, we may give in to temptation. Why did you have to wear that damn uniform?”

He gave you a megawatt smile, slightly nibbling at his lips as if he was embarrassed by your compliment.

“Why, Mr. Halstead, are you blushing,” you questioningly teased.

N-No,” he spluttered.

A brief silence was followed by laughter. Once it ceased, Jay spoke in a soft, warm voice, “To answer your question. This is home, sweetheart. It is in my heart.”

And then, in a moment of weakness, as the pregnancy hormones surged through your body and desire flared between you, you found yourselves giving in to the longing that had been simmering beneath the surface. In each other’s arms, you found solace, comfort, and a renewed sense of hope for the future.

Jay didn't want to ruin things, but if something were to happen. He'd not only need consent and for you to set things in motion. He'd been given a chance to make things right. Jay wouldn't risk it all by making you believe this was the only reason he had come to talk.

“Don’t make me regret this, Jay.”

Before he could answer, you surged onto his lap, kissing him with all the pent-up passion you could muster. You both sighed and moaned as your lips met. Pulling away briefly, you pressed yourself into him. "There's no time for foreplay," you murmured.

Jay groaned as his eyes snapped closed. He grabbed hold of your waist, anchoring you to his lap. Slowly, his eyes peeled open. They were filled with hunger and uncertainty. “Are you sure, honey? I'd understand if you wanted to wait.”

Your hand trailed up his back, sending shivers down his spine as it glided sensuously up his neck and into his hair. Your fingers tangled gently in his light brown locks, tugging playfully. Your other hand encircled his throat in a delicate caress, “That depends. How badly do you miss me riding your thick, veiny, co-.”

Jay's growl silenced you abruptly, shattering his composure.“Ever the little tempting brat. Aren't you, sweet girl?”

In a feverish rush, you tore at each other's clothes. Pushing Jay onto the sofa, you straddled him, reclaiming your dominance. You descended slowly, savoring the sensation. Your pants joined his symphony of groans as you moved your hips. Alternating between rocking and moving in a circular motion. Pleasure washed over you both, leaving Jay breathless.

“F-fuck. Baby, if you squeeze me any tighter, this won’t last long.”

Being the petty brat you are. You allowed your muscles to contract around him again. Jay couldn't help but shake his head from side to side and chuckle. His eyes found yours, turning dark as they simmered with heat. Jay’s hand collided with your soft, ample, flesh. He reveled in the half moan, half whine it pulled from your lips.

His hands pawed at your hips possessively forcing you up to his tip before quickly pulling you back down. You both cried out and you begged him to do it again. Jay repeated the motion as he freed one hand to toy and pinch at your bundle of nerves. With every pinch and circle of his fingers, you climbed higher. The closer you came to falling over the edge the more your walls gripped his flesh.

“Let go for me, sweetheart. Can you do that for me, sweet girl? Hmm? Yes, you can. Can't you, baby? Come for me, sweetheart. Soak me and this damn couch just like I know you can.”

Jay slammed you down one final time locking you into place as he circled your nub. Your face buried into his neck as violent shakes paired with sobs. You ground against his lap riding out the orgasm. Jay held you close as he left kisses against the side of your head. He talked you down from an intense orgasm. “You’re okay, honey. You're okay. You did so good for me.”

He tensed hearing sniffles muffle into the side of his neck. “Baby? Are you okay?”

“Promise you won't leave me again, Jay.”

He lifted your head, his eyes filled with reassurance. “I promise, baby. Never again. Okay?”

You nodded in agreement as he wiped your face. He stole a quick kiss before pulling you back against him to cuddle again.

“Jay,” your question muffled against his neck again.

“Yes, baby-.”

His response caught in his throat as you clamped down on him once more. Your lips trailed from the side of his neck up to his ear. You playfully bit his ear and moaned, “You didn’t get to come.”

“Keep doing that and it won't take long, sweetheart,” he groaned.

The morning sun streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room as you stirred in Jay's embrace. The events of the previous night played like a dream in your mind, a mixture of vulnerability, longing, and desire. You glanced at Jay, still sleeping peacefully beside you, and couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you.

As you lay there, basking in the afterglow of your shared moment of weakness, you couldn't shake the feeling of hope that filled your heart. Despite the challenges and uncertainties that lay ahead, you knew that you and Jay would face them together, united in love and determination.

With a soft smile, you pressed a gentle kiss to Jay's lips, feeling a surge of warmth and affection between you. The kiss pulled Jay from his slumber. Blinking a few times to clear the sleep from his vision, he rubbed at your small but noticeable bump.

“Oh, I see put me back to sleep so you can nap some more,” you teased. “Fine by me, Halstead.” Jay smirked and continued rubbing in circular motions. Just as you were about to drift off to sleep, there was a loud knock on the door, causing you both to jump.

Jay chuckled, planting a kiss on your forehead before pulling away. "I'll go see who it is."

As he made his way to the door, you heard familiar voices on the other side. "Come on, man. We gotta make sure Jay's still in one piece," Adam's voice rang out.

"Yeah, and see if they've reconciled yet," Kevin chimed in.

With a grin, Jay swung open the door to reveal Adam and Kevin standing on the doorstep, wearing matching grins and teasing expressions.

"Hey there, lovebirds. Just making sure Jay survived the night," Adam quipped.

Jay rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of amusement in his expression. "Yeah, yeah. Thanks for the concern, guys."

Kevin nudged Adam with a smirk. "Did y’all kiss and make up, or do we need to start planning your escape route? Blink twice if you need help bro."

You couldn't help but laugh at their antics, shaking your head in mock exasperation. "We're working on it, okay? Now, if you don't mind, we were kind of in the middle of something."

Adam and Kevin exchanged a knowing look before raising their hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. We'll leave you two lovebirds to it. But just remember, we're always here if you need a referee," Adam teased, earning a playful swat from Jay. Kim told me to say she expects a full run down over lunch tomorrow. She kept saying she wanted all the tea. What does that even mean?”

Kevin shook his head in disappointment. “Come on big dog. I'll have to teach you some new lingo on the way back to the precinct. Jay? Voight said you always have a job where he's concerned. Before you decline. Hailey is joining the FBI,” he finished with a wink toward you.

As they turned to leave, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the friends who always knew how to lighten the mood, even in the most awkward situations. As you snuggled back into Jay's arms, you felt a surge of passion coursing through your veins, igniting a fire that had been smoldering between you since the moment you first met.

With a mischievous glint in his eye, Jay turned to you, his gaze filled with desire. "Well, that was unexpected," he whispered, his voice husky with longing.

You couldn't help but smile at the intensity of his gaze, feeling a rush of heat spreading through your body at the thought of being so close to him again. "Unexpected, but not unwelcome," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

As Jay leaned in to capture your lips in a searing kiss, you melted into his embrace, the passion between you igniting like wildfire. In that moment, all the doubts and uncertainties melted away, leaving only the burning desire that had brought you back together.

“I’m insatiable, sorry.”

“No need to apologize. That makes two of us, sweetheart,” he responded, brushing curls from your face. His heart warmed that he was able to hold you this way. Jay had missed the feel of your skin and moving the hair from your vision. “You might want to put your bonnet on this time. I don’t want to get in trouble for ruining your hair, love.”

“Smart man, Mr. Halstead,” you giggled, leaving feathery kisses along his jaw.

And as the passion between you intensified, you couldn't help but joke, "Maybe it's just the pregnancy hormones," eliciting a laugh from both Jay and yourself, knowing that the truth was far deeper than a mere hormonal surge.

How y’all feeling about this one? I hope I did Mr. Halstead justice. Be sure to comment and reblog lovelies🩵.

Tagging a few lovelies🩵:

@darqchilddaydreamz @sunshine-flower @astoldbychae @1andonlytashae @alertyoulikeitsamber @thirtysomethinganduncensored @starrynite7114

#berberriescorner #spotify #daddy jay #jay halstead #jay halstead fic #jay halstead fanfic #jay halstead fanfiction #cpd #cpd fanfic #chicago pd #chicago pd fanfic #chicago pd fanfiction #black writer #jay halstead x black reader #jay halstead x black!reader #jay halstead x woc!reader #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead x you #jay halstead x y/n

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7-ferrets-in-a-coat · 6 months ago

Note

crawls out of my cave, im normally a lurker but i’m a lil crazy over ur new au

what are the bishops personalities like??? i would love to know especially heket or leshy

gnawing at the bars of my enclosure

Answering Both at once since they're quite similar :3 (also @lionacuty bcs i'm not directly answering your ask but yknow)

As previously established in this Au the bishops are Scientists that created the Narinder Ai to study how lifelike an Ai could become, and later on trapped him from being able to access his robot body :3

Shamura was originally the first (and only , at the time) scientist working on the Ai, with the others being sort of test subjects that they were meant to study to try and emulate life, but they realized that these folks would be more useful on the team. Also Voluntary subjects do not give the same lively reactions as.. unvoluntary ones.

The crowns aren't really a thing in this Au at All, but they have enhancements (which stand in as both the crowns AND to cover and protect their wounds that they got from an incident caused by Narinder so he could escape

Alright now personality time and their roles + Ref sheet

Kallamar is still a coward, he is like the one who is super good at fixing computers (Software mostly) products. Arrogant. Shamura is still the smartest out of the four, but Kallamar is great at fixing computers/software

Shamura is great at building computer and software, the main lead on working on Narinder.

As for personality, stone cold, very logical, not super emotional

Leshy is probably the one who came up with the fire wall ideas! He maybe is a little bit of the reason Nari is messed up. Maybe a little. Also was the lead on building the robot body.

As for personality, still a chaotic little fuck but more professional. Usually is the one to lighten up the work space. Obsessed with plants and bugs.

Heket is probably the most blunt of the group and hardest on security measures. She is head of security I'm a sense? She checks EVERYTHING.

Personality wise, she is blunt, hard headed, and she always thinks she is right. She always is stricked on security and is probably is really trying to find Narinder before it's too late. (Also she still cooks and brings food to the lab)

urhhhg i woke up and immediately started writing the answer heart

I kinda want to post Narinder already but also urhhhg i don't think i'll reach the silly note goal on this one, so maybe this saturday ill just cave and post him

ALSO Special thanks to @itsartlee for helping with the characterization of the scientists and an other good friend with helping with Shamura, Kallamar and Leshy's designs :3

#god in the machine au #cotl au #cotl bishops #cotl shamura #cotl heket #cotl kallamar #cotl leshy #asks #sam maow chitters #sam maow scribbles #hey im still rlly sleepy but ouuugh lunch soon #text post

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slutifer · 9 months ago

Note

Hello! I was wondering if you could make Some hc's about the brothers (and if you could add my bb boy Solomon haha) about the promt (I hope is like that, english is my second language sorry) of the "first date"

Like, how would they act, where would it be, you know, the basics, and if it could be gn? Thank you very much and hope you have a great day/afternoon/night <3

First Date

pairing: Lucifer x gn!mc content: fluffyyyyy wc: 616 a/n: I KNOW these were supposed to be hcs but it kinda got away from me a lil bit so i split them up into different parts, i'm sorry pls enjoy lucifer (you are here) / mammon / levi / satan / asmo / beel / belphi / solomon

The avatar of pride is not very expressive.

You never thought he’d look at you like this, crimson eyes shimmering against the light of a flickering candle. The dim lights of Ristorante Six softened his usually sharp features but did nothing to hide the flush on his face while he kissed the inside of your wrist tenderly between sips of his demonus. The table he had reserved just for you was hidden from curious eyes and questions of who tore the mighty first-born away from his duties.

The answer was, of course, the only person that could. You.

He had called you to his office a few days earlier, nothing out of the ordinary for Lucifer. His lean frame sat at the edge of his desk, his eyes meeting yours as you entered with a soft knock on the door.

“Lucifer, you wanted to see me?” Your heart jumped in your ribcage when a small smile spread across his lips.

“Yes, please have a seat.” His tone was softer than usual, but it’s you, how could he not be soft with you?

You obliged, shutting the door and sitting in the chair in front of him. He took a moment to take you in. The way your eyes roamed around his office before settling on him, your fingers fidgeting lightly over the blazer of your uniform, your delicate smile.

“Am I in trouble?” Your eyes widen slightly, your smile dropping.

“What? I-” Lucifer starts.

“Mammon and I were just-”

“mc,”

“-Trying to build a bonfire and it-”

“No, that’s not- wait, bonfire?!”

“-Just got a little bit out of our control and we-”

“mc,” He leans forward, his fingers resting on your jaw. Your mouth clamped shut quickly, goosebumps raising at his sudden touch.

“That's not why I called you in here, dove.” His voice was low and his fingers traced the line of your jaw, sending a whirlwind of emotions through you. Lucifer filed away the ‘bonfire incident’ to the back of his mind, deciding to interrogate Mammon about it later and focused on the beautiful human in front of him.

“I wanted to ask you something important,” He stated, dropping his hands to his lap, intertwining his fingers together. Your eyes followed the motion, quickly moving back to his face.

You nod patiently and he clears his throat in response, pushing himself off of the desk. He circles around it, pulling his chair out and reaching underneath, pulling out an extravagant bouquet of roses. It was elegantly wrapped in white paper with a crimson ribbon wrapped around the long stems.

“Oh, Lucifer.” You gaped at the beautiful flowers.

“I’m sure you’re aware of what I feel for you, I have not done so well at concealing it.” He paused, sincere eyes meeting yours. Lucifer strode to you slowly, reaching his hand out for you to take. You comply, standing and placing your hand in his.

“Please, allow me to take you on a date.” He concluded, gently grazing your knuckles with his thumb.

Your breath caught in your throat, resulting in a small gasp as you processed what he said. He waited patiently, eyes scanning your face for any hint at what was brewing inside that pretty head of yours.

“Yes,” You break the silence, “Yes, I’d love to.”

His face split into the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on Lucifer. He pulls your hand to his lips kissing your knuckles every so slightly, his eyes never leaving yours.

And in the restaurant, there you were before him. In your eyes, there was a corner of existence that had gone undiscovered by him, the warmth and the yearning for something he had never known.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mc #obey me swd #obey me fic #om! lucifer #obey me lucifer x mc #obey me lucifer x reader #gn reader #obey me gn!mc #obey me lucifer fluff #obey me fluff

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mvrtaiswriting · 1 year ago

Text

Boyfriend x Jean Kirstein. ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :

turns out the only character that could snap me out of writer's block is horse face. idek why. whatever. i kinda like how this one turned out so.. enjoy :P

gender neutral reader. no pronouns used.

warnings: angst (it ends well-ish), a bit suggestive, mention of toxic behaviour (jealousy, cheating, idk eren is a lil bitch)

feel free to reblog, like, and leave a comment. i would very much appreciate it. if you enjoy my works, click here to read more or buy me a coffee.

Taking another sip from the red cup in your hands, you watched everyone enjoying the party, dancing the night away. Everyone plus your boyfriend. Your gaze was locked on him and his new prey as they swayed on the dance floor, the red cup in your hand acting as a disguise. Was he doing it to make you jealous? You weren't quite sure, but at this point you weren't sure if you really wanted to know the answer to that - you didn't know if you would have cared, even. The way his hands grabbed her waist told you this wasn't just a play - Eren wasn't causing a scene, he was enjoying every bit of it. The way his fingers laced on the fabric of her tiny dress, the way his body moved in complete synchrony with hers feeding off every animalistic instinct; you knew this all too well. He had been like this with you too, getting to know every detail of each other's bodies.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you kept staring at them - hoping to feel a glimpse of disgust, a sparkle of jealousy. These emotions were once your go-to-meal, but you must have gotten used to the bitter taste in your mouth because now you felt nothing. Impassible while watching the love you've ached for walking away, trampling on the ruins of everything you had built holding his head up high.

"You might need a refill." Jean chuckled, noticing how you ended up chewing the edges of the cup in your hands. Taking the empty one out of your grip, Jean was quick to replace it with a fuller one. Jumping on the kitchen table, he stared at you for a second, tilting his head slightly as if it could help him decipher the look on your face. Following your gaze, he turned around to see what had your attention.

"Gosh. Still?"

Jean asked, raising his eyebrow. He had lost count of how many times he had to pick up the pieces of your broken heart after a fight with Eren, and he just couldn't believe you were still with him.

"This will be my excuse." you answer, pointing at the newly formed couple, who was now making out right before your eyes.

"My out-of-jail pass. At least he won't cause a scene."

Jean just nodded in response, keeping his eyes locked on you. There were so many things he wanted to say - he wanted to know what was so special about Eren, what made you stay even after being cheated on so many times. Jean wanted to know why you would always go back to the guy who almost hit you during a fight, who ridiculed you in front of everyone - why you would always choose Eren over him. But that night, as every other night, Jean kept silent. He wanted to be there for you, even if that meant being just a friend.

"Cool. Now that you've got your pass, we need to restart the game."

Wrapping his arm around your waist, Jean turned you away from the sight of your stupid boyfriend and walked you to the pool table, just across the dining room. The music that was busting in your ears minutes before now sounded like a muffled cry, covered by the loud laughters and chants of your classmates playing games and getting drunker than ever.

"Collect 2 drinks as you pass from the go!"

Jean winked, before handling you two shots. Finally breaking a smile since the start of the evening, you clinked one of your shot-glass against his.

"Cheers, Jean. Thank you."

A soft smile appeared on your face as you cheered with your best friend, before gulping the liquor down. No more tears would have delved your cheeks - not that night, not ever again. Not for Eren, not anymore.

"Connie, for the love of God!"

Your voice filled the room, echoed by the laughters of your friends, in a desperate attempt to understand what the boy in front of you was trying to mime. Trying to win that game was a lost cause. Everyone was now drenched in alcohol - after two beer pong matches and two bets lost, trying to be lucid enough to play mimes was too much to ask. There were no plausible guesses to make, and you were pretty sure it had been Connie's turn for a while now - he probably didn't even know what he was supposed to represent.

Jean had remained by your side all night; not that it was unusual, the two of you were inseparable. Before Eren came into play, you stumbled over the idea of Jean being more than just a friend, but it wasn't long until a pair of green eyes swooped you away.

Resting your head against Jean's shoulder, you reached for your phone. You weren't exactly expecting to find anything, so when you noticed a few missed calls from your boyfriend, you were surprised. Scrolling through your notifications, you noticed some texts from Eren - again, surprisingly. Usually, he didn't even bother telling you he was leaving without you - but this time, it was different.

"You read it. My head feels dizzy and I just don't want to know."

You mumble, passing your unlocked phone to Jean. He was fast to read through the chat, his long fingers quickly sliding down the screen of your phone.

"He blocked you. There's nothing worth reading."

Jean finally said, locking the screen of your phone. Slightly turning towards you, he pressed his lips against your forehead. Despite a certain apathy you had showed the last couple of times something happened between you and Eren, Jean expected this to hurt. Snuggling closer to Jean, you wrapped your arms around his, your face now hidden in the crook of his neck.

Was it pain? No, no. You didn't even read what he said. Realisation. Closure. Relief. That's what it was. Knowing that he had finally gathered the courage to let you go, even if in the most vile of ways, was freeing. The love between the two of you was long gone - it had been months since the last time he had touched you or even remotely cared for you. What kept you together was your desire to fix him, to change him into the better man you had envisioned but that he never was. And Eren made sure to always remind you how despicable he was, how hopeless his soul was - he did it every time he cheated, every time he raised his voice at you, every time he forgot you had a date and left you at home. You had loved him deeply, too much even - but that was never going to be enough. Especially because you only loved the idea of him.

"Can I stay at yours tonight?" you asked, your voice immediately snapping Jean back to reality.

"Don't even have to ask." he replied, holding you tighter into his embrace.

Of course you didn't have to ask. Half of your stuff was at his place anyway, even your toothbrush. Sometimes you stopped there because Jean's apartment was closer to your university's campus. Other times you would sleep at his place because you were hanging out with his roommates Connie and Sasha. Some other times, he would come and pick you up in the middle of the night because you and Eren had a fight and he kicked you out of his dorm. Then there were your cozy saturdays, when you and Jean would binge watch your favourite tv shows. Jean's place was the only home you knew.

The end of the night felt like a blur. You weren't sure how you've made it to bed, wearing your pyjama. Opening only one eye, you took a look around you. Some rays of light peeked through the window, the curtains blocking most of the light out - a few weak ray of light filtering through the fabric and lighting up the room. You immediately recognised Jean's room and of course, Jean's bed. Sleeping peacefully next to you, Jean's soft snores filled the room, catching your attention and bringing you back to reality. It was in that moment that you realised just how terrible your headache was, your veins hammering into your skull at every second. Letting out a groan, you adjusted yourself, trying to rearrange the pillow in a way that felt less like concrete and more like a nice, soft arrangement of feathers.

A strong arm gently laced around your waist, pulling you closer to the sleepy boy next to you. Leading your body closer to his, Jean pulled you into a tight embrace before you could realise it, your head now resting on his chest.

"C'mere."

A chuckle escaped your lips as you snuggled closer to Jean's chest, appreciating the warmth of his body. Using his free arm, Jean grabbed the blankets to cover both of you, now almost completely hidden by the duvet.

What happened after was a curious sequence of events, so strange yet so predictable, so complicated yet so simple, so natural yet so craved.

How could you know that carelessly tracing your fingers over his chest could light up such a spark? How could you know that your bodies fitted together perfectly, like the missing piece of a puzzle you waited so long to complete. How could you know that touching him meant feeling loved for the first time. You couldn't. But with your clothes on his bedroom floor and his hands around your waist, you swear you finally knew one thing - you were always looking for love in the wrong place. Nevertheless, it's a known fact that the best place to hide something precious is in plain sight.

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thatbanditqueen · 9 months ago

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Louisiana Saturday Night, a new fic.....

I have been working on a new WIP set at the Louisiana Hayride from 1954 - 1956, and will probably post chapter one in the next few days. It starts in October 1954, when 19 year-old Elvis had never played outside the small clubs of Memphis, except for that once. At the Opry. And that didn't go too well.

Now he faces his biggest audience ever at the Lousiana Hay Ride: over three thousand people in-person (a thousand more than the Opry!) and millions over the radio. He has only recorded two singles, never been away from home much or gone beyond second base with a girl, and doesn't know much about life as a touring musician. But he's eager to learn and grab every opportunity he can with those long, inexperienced slender fingers.

This fic will have my usual blend of poorly executed dry humor, fluff, smut and angst.

please comment or reblog if you want to be tagged - here is a preview.

Here is a snippet from Chapter 1: Hot Wax

Approximately 9:15 p.m.

Saturday, October 16, 1954

The Municipal Auditorium in Shreveport, Louisiana

The first time she saw Elvis up close he was hunched over the sink tapping his fingers along the porcelain rim. Rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, he reminded Freddie of a bottle rocket about to blow. She smiled at the thought of him bursting through the ceiling like a comic book hero, his oversized sports coat trailing behind him like a long pink cape.

She wasn’t sure if he was recovering from his first set or talking himself into the second, but what she did know was that this kid was as green as they came. Horace had been reading Pappy the riot act yesterday when she walked by his office, yelling at him for booking “some hillbilly who just fell off the turnip truck, cuz Sam Philips brings you a bottle of Jack every time he comes through town.” The audience out there had been so taken aback by his country bop they’d forgotten to clap, and she doubted Pappy would be allowed to invite him back.

As she watched the show up in the control booth, Freddie had wondered if Elvis’ performance had gone over better with the radio listeners who hadn’t had to watch his stilted, awkward movements on stage. There was a ragged emotional tenor to his voice, and now that she was standing right in front of him she had to admit he had a dark, sultry allure that was strikingly different from all these other boys doing their best Gene Autry impression.

But geez, now the poor kid began to mutter into his reflection and she hoped he wouldn’t cry. Freddie barely knew how to deal with the girls she found balling in the bathroom.

“Um, hey there. You ok?”

Elvis jerked around and ran his hand through his sopping wet hair and straightened up, stiff like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Most folks are nervous their first time. That’s a big crowd.”

“Don’t you worry about me, honey, I ain’t nervous.” He looked her over, a sneer forming at his mouth. “Didn’t you heard the man? I’m the hottest thing on wax. Mr. Logan just asked me to play a second set.”

“Oh - uh - well, I guess I was wrong.”

“MMhmmm. Just getting geared up to go back on stage.” He settled his hands at his waist and shot her a sulky fierce glower, then waggled his eyebrows in a challenge.

“Oh, well that's good. Maybe you can answer something for me then.”

“Anything baby.”

He softened and bit his lip, giving her what she took to be his version of a come hither look. He looked like he was fighting back a sneeze and Freddie had to swallow her laughter.

“Why are you in the Ladies’ Powder Room?”

Elvis paused and looked down for a beat as he shook his head and laughed.

She nodded toward the shelf of perfume bottles, powders and the basket of dainty pink sanitary napkin boxes with Kotex printed along the sides.

He let out a low whistle and rubbed his mouth.

“Man o man, I guess you got me, might be jus a lil nervous. I ‘spose I really weren’t watching were I was going, huh?”

Freddie couldn’t help the way she dumbly smiled back, noticing up close how long and thick his eyelashes were as he looked down at her through them. She suddenly had the urge to take his hand and lead him to the green room where she could make him a hot cup of tea and comfort him and give him all the advice she had from her four years of working at KWKH. But instead she took a deep breath and fidgeted with her cardigan.

“I won't tell anyone you were in here. It can be our secret."

other fic taglist - i won't tag you again on this unless you comment you want to be tagged:

@whositmcwhatsit

@from-memphis-with-love

@vintageshanny

@shakerattlescroll

@peskybedtime

@be-my-ally

@ellie-24

@missmaywemeetagain

@powerofelvis

@arrolyn1114

@lookingforrainbows

@eliseinmemphis

@kingdomforapony

@everythingelvispresley

@richardslady121

@dkayfixates

@artlover8992

@freudianslumber

@amydarcimarie

@toreigh

@18lkpeters

@yynneessmons

@ashtag6887

@waiting4brucewayne2adoptme

@returntopresley

@rjmartin11

@louisejoy86

@notstefaniepresley

@i-r-i-n-a-a

@j-v-9-2

@beeandheroddobsessions

@doll-elvis

@burningloverdoll

@ohjustpeachy1

@everythingelvispresley

@velvetelvis

@horror-movieshoes

@ooihcnoiwlerh

@moonchild-daniella

@lialocklear

@obsessionisthecure

@tacozebra051

@elvispresleywife

@bisexualwvtson

@father-of-2cats

@lillypink

@godlypresley

@crash-and-cure

@misspresley

@daffieapple

@louisejoy86

@burningloverdoll

@stargirllily19

@amydarcimarie

@elvisrealgf

@littlehoneyposts

@eapep

@stylespresleyhearted

#elvis presley #elvis fanfiction #elvis x oc #elvis #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis smut #ok not right away but there will be smut #the louisiana hayride #louisiana saturday night #1954 elvis #baby elvis #banditqueenwrites

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buckychristwrites · 2 years ago

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Could This Be | Chap. Six | j.t.

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x F!Reader

Summary: One minute, you're single and working for AFC Richmond as the team's medic. The next minute, you're in a fake relationship with the team's handsome striker who you know next to nothing about.

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Discussions of Previous Emotional & Physical Domestic Violence. Cussing. Fake Dating

A/N: Just a lil chapter. I hope you guys enjoy :)

Masterlist | Could This Be Masterlist | Main Blog

“Can you just fucking stop?”

The radio, however, kept going with the signal it had been dropping every hour since you had arrived at the stadium that morning. First, Higgins fell down the stairs and needed a once over. Then, Will the kit man once again had a bloody nose that somehow revolved around shoes (but not juggling them, he insisted, though you weren’t sure if you believed him). After that, one of the cleaning men was having a “cardiac event” that turned out to be a rather severe case of heartburn. He was still sent to hospital at his insistence, which meant even more paperwork for you. Finally, Coach Beard threw himself through the (open) window between the coaches office and the changing room, and despite repeated questioning, no one in the room would tell you why, which led you to assume that it was either a complete accident, or they were threatened into secrecy.

And now this, another mystery to unpack, as rarely were you given any proper details through the radio besides the location of the emergency. This time, it was on the pitch itself.

Grabbing your jump bag, you made your way out the door. Though you walked briskly through the halls, it was rare that you ran. Whatever was happening, getting there a few seconds faster wasn’t going to be the difference between a miracle and hospitalisation.

The sun was warm today, your skin instantly heating up as you walked out of the tunnel and onto the field. In the middle of the pitch was the team standing around in a circle. As you got closer, Roy turned and noticed you coming.

“Alright, everyone fuckin’ back up,” He called to the players. They all turned, looking at you as they stepped away.

“Please!” You added as you began to sift through them. You were met by them with subdued greetings. When you finally saw the sight in the middle of all the fuss, you sighed.

Jamie Tartt sat on the ground, cradling the left side of his head in his hands. From where you stood, there was no sign of obvious injuries. When he caught sight of you, he smiled sheepishly, eyes wincing from the sunlight.

“What happened?” You asked as you approached him.

“Went to the toilets for five minutes,” Roy said. “Came back and they were trying to kick footballs off each others’ heads. Was back just in time to see this idiot get clocked.” You had already started rummaging through your bag when you stopped, pausing to stare blankly at Jamie, and subsequently the rest of the team. They all refused to look at you, some of them even walking quickly away with their heads down.

“Did we all collectively forget what I always say is the best way to prevent injury?” You demanded as you pulled your vitals kit from your bag. There was a bit of a pause before the answer came.

“Don’t be fucking stupid,” Multiple players said at the same time in various volumes. You grumbled curses under your breath as you began to work again.

“It hurts a lot,” Jamie said in a strained voice while you slipped the automatic blood pressure cuff over his arm.

“I can’t imagine how else a kick to the head would feel, especially in the boots.” He laughed, vibrating his body. You put your hand on his quickly. “You gotta sit still!”

He froze instantly before mumbling, “Sorry.” You felt the eyes of the other players watching, making you slowly pull your hand away again.

Grabbing a torch from the front pocket of the bag, you shined it into his right eye, pulling it away and then bringing it back again, before doing the same to the other eye. You then had him follow your finger with just his eyes. The machine beeped, and when you looked down, you sighed.

“Well, so far, everything is normal,” You said, eyebrows still furrowed in concentration. “You’re not showing any signs of a concussion, but I do think you should at least sit out for the rest of practice.” He nodded as he went back to holding his head.

“Can I lay down somewhere?”

This time, you nodded. “You can come lay down in the med room while I chart.”

A chorus of “Ooooooooooooooo” filled the air. You whipped your head to give each player an individual, customised glare.

“Don’t be fucking cheeky!” You exclaimed, though you were having a hard time completely hiding the smile from your face.

With the help of Bumbercatch and Roy, Jamie ascended back to his feet. When they released him, you took Roy’s place on the left side, wrapping your arm around the middle of Jamie’s torso as he propped his arm around your shoulders. It was different when you were working, being close like this. And yet, in that moment, with everyone’s eyes on the two of you, it was hard not to let the embarrassment and insecurity take over.

“How lucky Jamie is, in love with a miracle worker,” You heard Dani say to someone as you and Jamie began to head towards the tunnel.

“Do you think this is just an excuse for them to go… you know…?” Richard asked.

“Of course not,” Sam defended. “She is more professional than that.”

The fact that it had even been in question made you feel even more embarrassed, so much that you began to will Jamie into walking faster. All things considered, he was walking pretty well, and he was able to go the speed you desired without much of an issue.

Once back in the sanctuary of the med room, you released Jamie, who walked slowly towards the bed before sinking down onto the mattress. A sigh left his mouth as he laid down into the pillow. You flicked the lights off before heading to your desk.

“Don’t ya have work to do?” He asked through his hands that covered his face.

“Yeah, but my laptop has just enough light for me.” He hummed in response.

For a while, it was quiet, the only sound being your fingers tapping against the keys on the keyboard. As you worked, it was hard to stay focused now that you had company. The typing started to get too loud, and you knew you needed a distraction.

“How bad does your head hurt?” You asked him. “On a scale of 1 to 10?”

“Probably a 7,” He told you. Though you couldn’t see it, the sound of the mattress ruffling let you know he was shifting in the bed.

“Do you want something for the pain?”

“Nah,” was all he replied. An answer you were all too familiar with when it came down to these footballers and pain medicines.

“You know, just dealing with the pain isn’t the masculine thing that everyone makes it out to be,” You told him. “It’s okay to take the pain meds.”

“It’s not that I am worried about my masculinity, you fuckin’ twat.” Through the insult, he was laughing. “I don’t wanna be all drugged up while talkin’ to ya.” You narrowed your eyes.

“Why's that?” You asked him.

“You’re my fake girlfriend yeah?” He said firmly. “What if I say something stupid?”

“You’ve never had an issue with saying stupid things around me before.”

“Well, now I want ya to respect me.”

“I still respect you when you say stupid things.” A beat passed. “Mmmmm… sometimes.”

He raised his head quickly as he shouted, “See?!”

“Lay back down, you fucking goon.” He obeyed, and even in the dark, you could see the squint in his eyes from the sudden movement. “What if I give you some paracetamol or something? That’s not an opiate, so no weird side effects, like increased idiocracy”

“You can paracetamol my ass.”

You stared at him.

“Was that really the best you could come up with?” You asked him.

“I’m in me death bed, leave me alone.” He even rolled over to escape your stare, causing you to swallow a laugh..

“Even par-ass-etamol would’ve been better.”

“The dent in me head prevents me from being clever.” His voice was slightly muffled now.

“You mean the dent that you caused by being stupid as fuck?”

“The very same.”

“What was your excuse for not being clever before?”

“Do you treat all of your fake boyfriends like this?”

“Nope, you’re just special.”

Your charting was forgotten as you went back and forth with Jamie. Standing up, you went to the drug locker. As you put the combination into the lock, you could hear him rolling back over in the bed.

“You’re gonna take the medication. It won’t make you loopy.” As you got the pills out and put them in a little cup, you could feel Jamie’s eyes on you despite the lack of lighting.

When you turned back to him, you could make out his twinkling eyes. He came into focus better when you approached, with his hair hanging down his forehead and his cheek squished into his hand, which laid between his head and the pillow. His other arm was reaching for the cup before you had even started extending your own.

“Let me get you water.” In an instant, you were back with a plastic cup of water. Jamie flinched as he stood, spilling the tablets into his mouth before following them up with the water. He handed you both receptacles before lying back down. Tossing the cups in the trash, you returned to the chair at your desk.

“What’s your favourite thing to do on your day off?” He asked. Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion at how random the question felt, but you played along anyway.

“I love to read,” You told him. “That’s usually what I’m doing when I’m not working, or if I have free time while here.” You hesitated before adding, “What about you?”

“I’ve been trying to watch more telly,” He said. “Goin’ out every night got old after a while. Needa learn how to spend time by meself.” You were slightly surprised by this answer.

“That’s… normal,” You remarked. The mattress shifted again.

“Tryna be,” He said. “Life hasn’t been normal for me in a long time, d’ya know what I mean?”

You did, somehow. It was hard for one to be normal when they’re known around the world.

You tried to go back to your charting, having to turn the screensaver off from how long it had been idle. The work wasn’t coming as naturally as it had been before, though.

“What was your best relationship like?”

This stopped you in your tracks, the embarrassment creeping up your spine.

“Honestly…?” You said, refusing to make eye contact. “This one.”

“What one?”

You gestured between yourself and him. “This. You and me. Us.”

There was a long period of silence between the two of you. Finally, slowly, Jamie sat up. You allowed yourself to meet his eye in the darkness.

“Are ya ever gonna tell me who hurt ya?” He asked in a low tone. Your chest felt like it had been electrocuted, shooting through your heart and down your spine. The idea of telling Jamie who it was made you feel a type of way.

“I’m sure I’ll have to, at some point,” You admitted. “But I’m going to put it off for as long as I can.”

“Why?”

You shrugged.

“Because if I also could go without knowing,” You said slowly. “I would.”

You felt like you were in a movie scene, as you stared at Jamie in this moment. It felt like the part where he would stand and approach you, moving hair from your face or cradling your cheek in his palm. The intimacy of the moment made your breath hitch in your chest. Jamie clearly felt it too, shown by the way he cleared his throat.

“I think I’m good to drive home,” He said, standing from the cot. You watched him as he went towards the door, feeling slightly disappointed that he was leaving. He paused as he hit the doorway, hitting the frame before turning back towards you.

“There’s a movie premiere next week,” He informed you before turning back around. “You’ll be comin’ with me, yeah?” You stared at him blankly for a second before nodding.

“Oh,” You said. “Yes. Of course! Rule number one. I didn’t forget.”

He beamed at you, pumping his fist before turning and walking out of the room. Turning back to your laptop, you smiled slightly, before trying, and failing, to get back to your charting so you, too, could leave for the day.