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myteavsricochet · 9 months

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Favorite firstprince fanfics, another incomplete list:

(Part 1)

Come Let Me Love You

Henry always struggled to have a good night's sleep. Alex made it easier over the years they had been together, but little cries in the middle of the night always woke Henry.

A little glimpse into a future where Alex and Henry are doting fathers to a beautiful little girl.

Obliviously Devoted

She looks at him in the way only June can. She's the only one he'll allow it from without a fight. "I don't know if you're ready to have this conversation or not."

His fork clatters to the plate in front of him. "What is that supposed to mean?"

June sighs a sigh of long-suffering and pinches the bridge of her nose, before she looks him dead in the eye and sets his world upside down. "You know you and Henry are dating, right?"

Alex gapes at her. Mouth hung open, eyes blown wide. "W-what?"

"I say this with all the love in the world," she says. "But sometimes, I swear, you are the most oblivious idiot on the face of the planet."

Tags: idiots in love, oblivious acd, best friends to lovers, alternate universe - roommates/housemates

(even though you want to) please try to never grow up

“You better have a good fucking reason for sending me to voicemail, Hen.” He glares at the phone for one second before he actually sees the screen, and then his face melts into something Henry can only describe as fond. “Oh,” he whispers, dropping his mug of coffee onto the counter so he can lean in closer to the phone. “Look who’s there.”

“Yeah.” Henry keeps his voice so low he isn’t even sure Alex can hear him. He doesn’t seem to mind, eyes taking in the picture in front of him with parted lips, the edge of his finger covering the camera when he undoubtedly reaches to caress his daughter’s head.

Or, Alex misses his daughter when he goes back to work after a long paternity leave.

tags: domestic, tooth-rotting fluff, family fic

Let Me Wash Away Your Worries

Alex has had a terrible week. Henry is right there to take care of him.

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Bath Sex, Cuddling & Snuggling, Romantic Fluff, Praise Kink, Alex Claremont-Diaz Needs a Hug, Worship

ephemeral enchantments

in which Henry is an overworked barista with a tendency to embarrass himself in front of everything that breaths and Alex is charmed from the first time he met him.

Tags: Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Awkward Flirting

Three fights Alex and Henry never had

Yes, Alex and Henry got their Happily Ever After. But that doesn't mean everything was just automatically perfect when they moved in together...

Tags: Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff

am i homophobic? (URGENT) (PLEASE HELP)

Now, it might be pretty early in the morning and Alex’s brain functions might not be working as quickly as they normally do, but he can still put two and two together. There's a strange man in their kitchen. Henry is shirtless, rumpled, and holding two pairs of boxers. Henry and this Sam guy slept together. Which… obviously is fine because Alex is not an asshole, but he’s definitely feeling something about this development that he will examine at a later date. But of course, instead of saying something normal, you know, like a normal person would, he says, “Ohh.” Like a fucking weirdo.

or: the "am i homophobic?" roommate au that no one asked for

Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Sexuality Crisis, Mentions of homophobia, no one is like actually homophobic though, Idiots in Love, Explicit Sexual Content, Unsafe Sex

The shape of your lips bruising my heart

So, that neck-kissing scene in the bloopers? Yeah, that one. Well. I wrote it.

—

In which Alex has a hard time leaving the hotel after their night in Paris.

you’re leaving (now i’m left amongst the living)

Six years since they've been together, Alex and Henry were now a far cry from the lovestruck couple they once were when their history began. If you ask Alex, all of it was Henry’s fault. If you ask Henry, he’d agree and say that Alex was right.

But before Alex could ever find out why Henry does not seem like the man he once decided to spend the rest of his life with, he already walked away from it all. Now, Henry was alone, left to deal with whatever shattered remains he could salvage from his life.

Or, the one where Henry’s sick and Alex only finds out two years after they've broken up.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Lawyer Alex, Writer Henry, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Feels, Angst and Humor, Fluff and Angst, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Hospitalization

Fifty First Dates

Henry has used a dating app exactly one time. Predictably, the date turns out to be terrible. The bartender, however, is not.

A cute stranger’s solution to Henry’s woeful dating life is to set him up on fifty first dates.

Most People Exist

Henry Fox is a nurse at the New York Cancer Center. He’s happy with his job, content enough with his life, but it all gets turned on its head when he connects with a patient with a brain tumor—Alex Claremont-Diaz.

———

Henry is a nurse, Alex is a patient.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Hospital, Cancer, Nurses & Nursing, Minor Character Death, Falling In Love, Slow Burn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, They will end up happy I pinky swear

i want your dreary mondays

“You little menace,” a voice says from the door, entirely too fond to be anything mean. “I told you to wait by the car, not go inside.” The man steps inside, shaking the rain from his hair, and Henry is treated to the sight of the most beautiful man he’s seen in his entire life, standing in the middle of his shop with clothes dripping to the floor and raincoat bundled up around him. He notices then the umbrella clutched in the little boy’s hand, the innocent wide eyes watching his father, and the picture forms in his head.

Or, five times Henry makes a piece of art for Alex's son on his drinks, and one time he does it for Alex himself.

It's Nice to Have a Friend

Two boys meet on a beach, build a sand castle, write letters, and fall in love.

Tags: Alternative Universe - Childhood friends, Friends to lovers, Slow Burn, Growing up together

Leave A Message

"This is Alex Claremont-Diaz's phone. If it's a business matter, I don't know how you got ahold of this number, but if you have my number that means you probably have Zahra's. Call her instead. If you're friends or family, just text me. If you're anyone else, I'll call you back as soon as I can."

Or: Alex's voicemail message over the years, and the messages people leave for him.

I must tell you what you will not ask

Henry's lower lip wobbles, and a fresh tear rolls down his cheek. Alex watches it track down to his chin, and wonders if Henry would mind him wiping it away. “I really was looking forward to seeing them.”

Another tear escapes, and this time Alex can't help but lean forward and brush it away with his thumb. Henry's breath catches, and he looks at Alex, wearing an expression he can't quite parse. “Come home with me,” Alex blurts out.

Henry's plans for Christmas fall through, so Alex invites him home for the holidays. They're best friends, strictly platonic roommates, so why does everyone think they're dating?

drive-thru mornings

“Would you like to pay cash or by card, sir?”

Alex startles, but recovers quickly and smiles charmingly at the girl in the window. Maggie, her tag reads. “By card, darlin’,” he says. “Actually, could I pay for the man behind me, as well? I have no idea what he ordered, but he’s strikingly handsome, isn’t he?”

Tags: Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Dorks in love

you turned a moment (into forever)

Sharing an apartment with Alex had seemed like a good idea at first. They’re best friends, prices in Brooklyn are absurd, and they had both been in urgent need of residence – it only made sense.

Except for the small, tiny, teeny, barely there fact that Henry has been in love with Alex from the first moment he laid eyes on him. And the fact that Alex doesn’t know, and can never find out.

—

Or, as coffeecatsme so eloquently put it: Roommates AU where Alex has insomnia and slips into Henry’s bed every night because it’s the only way he gets a good night’s sleep.

You Can Hear It In The Silence

At the Lake House, Henry doesn’t run when Alex tells him he loves him. But he can’t say it back; too afraid of the consequences it would have, no matter how true it is. But as the truth settles in, Henry decides Alex is worth fighting for. So he does.

A Long Way From the Playground

Henry and Alex were best friends growing up until they went to separate colleges and they grew apart. When they see each other again as adults, against the odds, both living in the same city again, will it be a joyful reunion or will the pain of the years apart get in the way? How do you become friends again when there is so much of the past in the way?

Oblivion

The man starts to cock the hammer of gun, and Alex squeezes his eyes shut, his lower lip trembling almost imperceptibly.

“Stop!” Henry shouts, his voice cracking. “I’ll give you whatever you want, I’ll do anything…just please, don’t hurt him.”

Alex’s eyes fly open, shooting Henry the same incredulous look that he gave him in the hallway, and Henry knows he’s shown too much of his hand, revealed a part of himself that he’d sworn he would take to his grave, but he’s too full of fear and desperation to feel self-conscious about it now. He can deal with the consequences when they get out of this.

If they get out of this.

******

What if the moment in the hospital wasn’t a false alarm and the publicity surrounding the forced bromance between Alex and Henry had the adverse effect of them being kidnapped together?

Confidential Memorandum

"Hello, Mr. Fox-Mountchristen's office. How may I help you?"

"Hello, can I speak to Mr. Fox-Mount-krishen, please?"

Alex blinked. After two weeks of hearing nothing but the voices of snooty men and frazzled secretaries calling in, the person on the other line now sounded decidedly neither snooty nor male nor in any way adult.

It was a little girl.

"Mr. Fox-Mountchristen's unfortunately in a meeting right now,” Alex began slowly, “but I could take a message?"

"Oh." The girl paused. "You're not Mr. Hunter."

Alex starts a new job as Henry's new assistant. Henry's daughter keeps calling the office and leaving him messages.

we thought we ruled the world

Alex stares down at his latest text from Henry. A link to an article he’s seen about ten versions of so far. He’s managed to resist clicking on any of them, but now Henry is sending it, so he supposes he should at least give it a skim.

How Prince Henry’s Relationship With FSOTUS Lost Ellen Claremont The Election

............

Or, what would have happened if Ellen lost.

Run, Don't Walk

Henry loves sex. He loved sex even before he was with Alex, although there's something to be said for the level of precision and intimacy acquired through years of learning each other's bodies. He's liked being filled from the first time he ever experienced the feeling, and he doesn't think he'll ever love anything quite as much as he loves getting fucked.

But this? This is giving him pause for thought.

Tags: Porn without plot, Marathon sex, Henry loves sex, and Alex, and sex with Alex

london bridge has fallen down

Alex can feel the eyes of the room on him as Shaan approaches his side. Then, Shaan quietly murmurs in his ear. They’re words he’s thought about before, distantly wondering about what might happen when they were finally uttered. How their lives might change. There’s nothing that can prepare him for the reality of it though, nothing that can prepare him for how his breath hitches when Shaan speaks.

‘London Bridge is down, Sir.’

---

Queen Mary is dead. Henry doesn't know how to feel.

Screw Your Courage to the Sticking Place (and forget macbeth is a fucking tragedy)

"You don't owe me anything."

"Of course I do. If you have time now...there are things I'd like to say."

Alex hesitates.

"I know I don't have any right to ask you to listen," Henry adds. He sounds so hopeful though.

A little closure doesn't sound like a terrible thing. Agreeing to go with Henry, alone, to Kensington Palace sounds like returning to the scene of a crime.

It's been over a decade since their breakup - Alex is now a single dad forging his career as a lawyer, and Henry's finally getting the courage to stand up to his grandmother. In finding themselves, can they also find their way back to each other?

#here we go #there will probably be a part 3 #firstprince fanfic #rwrb #rwrb fanfic #firstprince #red white and royal blue #alex claremont diaz #henry fox

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lovemesomeeddiemunson · 2 months

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The Proposal - Part 1

Summary: When Steve Harrington is threatened with deportation, he blackmails his long suffering assistant, Eddie Munson, into marrying him. Steddie! The Proposal Au, Modern Au, Part 1 of 7. 4291 Words

Series Warnings: Blackmail. Food mentions. Mentions of unhealthy relationship with food. Cursing. Self harm (by means of tattooing.) Homophobia. Death of a parent. Abandonment by parents. Shitty parents. Homophobic parents. Parents with entitlement. Classism. Eventual sexual situations (no actual smut!) Brief allusion to a panic attack. Minor spoilers for Flight of Icarus.

Authors Note: Hi there! I'm Dom, occasional dabbler in fanfiction. I started writing this story on June 29th, 2024. Roughly 30k in total parts later, and I'm unleashing her piece by piece 😂 This has been a true labor of love, and I hope someone out there enjoys reading it even a fraction of as much as I enjoyed writing it. Steddie forever.

Eddie Munson wakes up on a Monday morning immediately concerned by the amount of sunlight coming into his bedroom.

Scrambling to sit up, his bleary eyes fell on the blinking red numbers of the alarm clock that had definitely reset at some point in the night, and was now mocking him with what was no doubt a wildly inaccurate time.

Filled with dread, he snatches up his wrist watch that's sat in front of it, peering into the little face before he screams, “Fuck!” Launching himself from his bed a moment later, cursing his luck.

He is so late.

He’s got a mere nineteen minutes before he’s supposed to be in the office with his nightmare boss’s morning coffee and protein box, or all hell will break loose.

And with as many soul-crushing years as he’s poured into this job, he’s determined not to lose it over breakfast.

Desperate to save his own ass, he gets ready in record time, rushing out of the door with his work clothes in disarray as he speeds down the busy city street.

He’s cutting it way too close - but he’s hopeful he can make it - right up until he’s forced to skid to a stop as he breaches the front door of the Starbucks.

A long line looms in front of him, the morning rush in full swing by this point of the morning, and his face falls at the sight.

However, before his devastation can fully settle in, he hears the call of “Eddie!” A hand behind the counter shooting up as a voice shouts out. “Your usual!”

Tammy, a barista who’s been serving (and flirting with) him every day for as long as he can remember, smiles brightly as he jumps the line, handing him off two coffee cups in a carrier, along with a bag containing his boss’s breakfast order.

“Oh shit! You literally saved my life! Thank you so much Tammy!” Eddie drops a fifty on the counter from his emergency cash as he goes. The barista titters behind one of her hands at him, pushing a lock of tousled hair behind her ear as he bolts for the office.

He makes it to his building a few minutes later, just barely catching the elevator. Once it shuts behind him, Eddie promptly folds in half, chest heaving, practically wheezing to catch his breath.

Cursing himself for not being in better shape, he dismisses his coworker’s alarmed looks and manages to compose himself by the time he reaches his floor. Rushing out as his coworker Sam shouts “You’re cutting it close!” at him.

“I know! I know!” Eddie’s replying, in such a hurry to get to his desk that he doesn’t account for the slow reflexes of the mailroom employee who’s come up to make his morning delivery.

The two promptly crash into each other, one of the cups of coffee a casualty of their collision.

“Fuck!” Eddie exclaims. The hot liquid is now clinging to his button-down, and he can vaguely see the shape of the death of his career aspirations in the stain starting to form.

“Sorry!” The mailman sheepishly says, looking uselessly for something to clean it with before Eddie waves him off, muttering about how he was equally to blame.

Even so. Lamenting his no good, terrible, very bad, morning, he rushes to his coworkers cubicle, saying in lieu of greeting to him, “I need the shirt off your back, literally.”

Patrick, it seems, could not care any less, looking disdainfully at Eddie’s ruined button down. “You’re kidding, right?”

Eddie doesn’t have time for this. He resorts to bribery. “Red Hot Chili Peppers. This Friday. Two tickets and company VIP passes for your shirt. You have five seconds to decide.” Glances at the clock and starts to count down. “Five, four-“

“Deal.” Patrick mutters before popping the buttons of his shirt, and shrugging it off. Eddie does the same, giving him the stained shirt and donning the clean one as he starts to hear small pinging sounds throughout the office, notifications going from desktop to desktop.

Just as Eddie is buttoning the last of the buttons, pulling his long hair from where it had gotten stuck in one of them from his haste, he dives into his chair, reading the chat that pops up from @Samantha.Stone that reads, HBIC incoming!

The rest of the office reacts to her message accordingly. High heels are slipped on in place of comfortable flats, pocket mirrors are pulled out to make sure eyeliner is just so and that there’s no incriminating spinach in between teeth. Casual magazines are shoved away and spreadsheets pulled up - rosaries are clutched tight and prayed with. Like it’ll help.

At Sam’s warning, Eddie takes his place outside of the glass doors to his boss’s office. Righting himself, he straightens out his clothing and fixes his hair, holding out the coffee cup that was supposed to be his in one hand and the plastic breakfast box in the other.

Lo and behold, moments later, just as Sam had forewarned, the demon himself appears.

Steve fucking Harrington.

With his perfect untouchable hair and pristine suit, his discerning hazel eyes are locked in on his phone, not even noticing the fake smile Eddie puts on as he approaches, his walk brisk and evenly measured as Eddie chirps. “Morning boss! You have a half an hour until your conference call.”

Steve doesn’t even look up from his phone as he nods in disinterest, leaving Eddie with the task of handing him the hot coffee and breakfast all while taking his bag from him, without dropping anything.

“Yes I know.” He replies dryly.

“Staff meeting at 9.” Eddie continues, as he walks into the office behind him, Steve settling into his large leather chair.

“Did you call… um…” Steve groans, spinning said chair to face the desk, “Uh, what’s her name? The one with the ugly hands?” He snaps his fingers repeatedly as if that will speed the answer along.

“Yes.” Eddie offers. Knowing who he means, nodding as he passes him a stack of papers.

Steve goes into it immediately, flipping post-its and thumbing through pages. Eddie continues, “Yes, I did call her. I told her your thoughts about her client's new album and the deadline for getting the finalizations to the sound engineers.”

Steve hands some of the papers back to him, straightening the remainders as Eddie goes on about the tasks on the agenda for today. “Also, your immigration lawyer called. He said it’s imperative that you-” Eddie’s words come to a stop when Steve raises his hand.

“Cancel the call, push the meeting to tomorrow, and keep the lawyer on the sheets.” Steve pauses in his work, a bit of smugness to his tone as he adds. “Oh, and get a hold of PR, have them start drafting a press release. The little songbird my colleagues so generously called ‘unattainable’ is now performing at the Grammys.”

Eddie’s eyes widened in awe. No matter how much of a terror his boss was, he was impressive in his own right, “Wow. Nicely done.” He compliments.

Steve scoffs, turning in his chair to his computer screen, all confidence and bitchiness as he replies. “If I want your praise, I will ask for it.”

Eddie takes the words as a dismissal. Steve wasn’t going to ever actually ask him for praise. Eddie’s praise didn’t mean shit to someone like Steve.

So he goes, and as he does so, Steve moves to drink his coffee, pausing when he notices something unusual on his cup.

He clears his throat to catch his subordinate’s attention and Eddie stops walking, pausing in the doorway.

“Who is— who is Tammy Thompson? And why does she want me to call her?” Steve’s eyebrows are raised as he turns the coffee cup to show the side where it says, Call me! Above a phone number, signed enthusiastically by said Tammy Thompson, with a sharpie heart.

Eddie pales at the sight. Floundering as he timidly explains. “Well… that was originally my cup.”

Steve looks down at the cup with scorn, voice dull. “And I’m drinking your coffee why?”

Eddie is grappling. “Because your coffee spilled.”

Steve takes a sip, and after doing so, his tone becomes accusatory. “So, you drink lavender oat milk lattes?” He asks.

“I do.” Eddie nods.

Steve smirks at him then, “Is that a coincidence?”

“Incredibly, it is.” The phone rings, and Eddie feels a small semblance of security that he can keep his job a little while longer as he crosses the room to answer it, “I mean, I wouldn’t possibly drink the same coffee you drink just in case yours spilled. That would be pathetic.” Eddie chuckles, voice laced with sarcasm as he picks up the phone.

“Good morning, Mr. Harrington’s office.” Eddie greets.

“Hey, Munson. It’s Hargrove.” Eddie hears as he spares a glance at Steve - who's already found something else to scrutinize if his back being to him with his fingers clicking away at the keyboard is any indication.

“Hey, Mr. Hargrove.” Eddie responds, his words causing Steve to turn around abruptly, with a wicked smile that immediately unsettles him.

“Just confirming Steve and I are still on for our 8:10, this morning. He emailed me about it last night.”

Eddie looks at Steve with a confused expression, answering reflexively although he had no prior knowledge of this meeting. “Actually, we’re headed to your office right now.” He puts the phone down when Billy’s line goes dead.

“Why are we headed to Hargrove’s office?” He questions Steve, who gives him a dry look in response that Eddie interprets as ‘What’s it to you? You do as I say.’

A fair point if he’s being honest. And, rather than wait for an answer that won’t come, Eddie rushes ahead of Steve, beating him out of the door with a second to spare as he gets to his keyboard, working quickly to send a message office wide.

@Edward_Munson: *is typing…*

Dings sound as his message goes out.

HE’S ON THE MOVE!

The notification spreads, alerting the whole floor as they all scramble to pretend to be working just as Steve comes strutting out of his office.

Eddie follows him at a quick pace, trying to ignore his brain playing the imperial march after them as he takes advantage of this rare moment where Steve has nothing in front of him to ask, “Have you listened to my demo yet?”

“Uh, I listened to the first few songs.” Steve responds, surprised, before the cool expression comes back, “I wasn’t that impressed.”

Eddie sighs, disappointment stinging as he bites his lip, “Can I say something?”

Steve doesn’t hesitate. “No.”

Eddie persists, “I know my music, okay? There’s an album here. A good one - the kind of album you used to produce.”

Steve rolls his eyes, “Uh, wrong. Also, don’t ever imply that I don’t still produce good albums, and, for what it’s worth, I do think you order the same coffee as me, just in case you spill. Which is, in fact, pathetic.”

“Or impressive.” Eddie counters weakly.

“It’d be impressive if you didn’t spill it in the first place.” As they approach the office they're aiming for, he reminds Eddie, “Now remember, you’re just a prop in here.”

“Won’t say a word.” Eddie mutters, and follows Steve inside as he waltzes right up to their coworkers desk, the other man barely looking up to acknowledge him.

Ouch. Eddie knows Steve won’t take that lightly…and his stomach becomes unsettled by the display of testosterone he knows he’s about to witness.

They get right to it.

“Our fearless leader, and his right hand man.” William “Billy” Hargrove jeers, still without pausing whatever it is he’s doing on his laptop. “So nice of you to visit my office.”

“Ah.” The side of Steve’s mouth quirks up in a smile, eyeing his office furniture. “Nice desk. Is it new?”

“It is. Handcrafted. No one does artisanship like the Italians.” Billy replies without looking up.

His statement, in their present company, could have easily been misconstrued as flattery - but Eddie knows better. Billy Hargrove doesn’t care enough to appeal to Steve, and so if he’s saying it, he must truly believe it.

Not that it would have worked anyways. Steve takes in his answer as he laments with a small sigh, mumbling “So true.” Like the fact of it is tragic, before he leads right into his next thought, with no hesitation or sympathy, declaring, “Billy, I am letting you go.”

Hargrove looks up from his computer then - eyes wide with disbelief, and even Eddie - who thought he knew Steve well - is looking at Steve with barely contained shock.

“Excuse me?” Billy repeats, glancing at Eddie who expertly avoids his eyes as he closes the door in order to stop anyone from listening in on their conversation.

Billy looks back at their boss as Steve goes on. “I asked you over a dozen times to get the performer I wanted for the Grammys, and you didn’t do it. You didn’t even try, did you?”

“T-They’re unattainable-“ the other man stammers.

“And yet just this morning, I attained them.” Steve replied. Clicking his tongue in disappointment.

“But…” Billy starts.

Steve smiles sarcastically, nodding, “I know. I know. Celebrities can be a little scary. For you. That’s okay.” He placates.

Moving across the office as he makes the other man an offer. “Now, I will give you two months to find another job, and then you can tell everyone that you resigned, okay?”

Satisfied with his own generosity, Steve turns toward Eddie, motioning for him to open the door. They both walk out of the office hastily.

Once they’re out of ear shot, his boss’ eyes shift to Eddie, walking at his side. “What's his 20?” Steve whispers at him, making Eddie look back for him.

Behind them, Billy’s pacing in his office like a caged animal, pulling at his hair. “He’s moving. He has crazy eyes.” Eddie whispers back as he tries to match Steve’s steps.

Steve frowns deeply, still whispering. “Don’t do it, Billy. Don’t do it.”

But it happens. Moments later, Billy charges out of the office screaming. “You son of a bitch!” The exclamation followed by collective gasping from onlookers.

Steve and Eddie stop walking, both of them turning to Billy even as the pitying look settles across Steve’s face.

“You can’t fire me!” Billy yells. “You don’t think I can see what you’re doing here? Setting me up so you can get rid of me and make yourself look like a hero to the board!” Billy points, “Because you are threatened by me!”

Steve's face changes then - pity turning to amusement as he breaks out in a playful smile in answer to Billy continuing on his rant, “You are a monster.”

“Billy, stop.” Steve says, that smile being redirected as he looks reassuringly to the other employees that have started to watch the commotion. Ever the picture of ease, even as Billy hurls insults at him.

Billy goes on. “Just because you have no semblance of a life outside of this office, you think that you can treat all of us like your own personal slaves.” Billy moves closer. “You know what? I feel sorry for you. Because you know what you’ll have on your deathbed?”

He’s near enough to them now that Eddie can see split flying, the assistant flinching as he snarls “Nothing and no one.”

But while Eddie winces at his words, Steve just lets out a sympathetic noise, moving closer until the two men are toe to toe, his answering voice honey sweet.

“Listen carefully, Billy. I didn’t fire you because I feel threatened. No.” Billy glances around the office in arrogant disbelief, as if aid will be found there.

Steve continues. “I fired you because you’re lazy, entitled, incompetent, and you spend more time cheating on your wife than you do in your office.” Billy’s eyes widen as Steve goes on. “And if you say another word, Eddie here is going to have you thrown out on your ass, okay?”

Billy opens his mouth to object, but Steve continues, “Another word. Another word and you’re out of here with an armed escort. Eddie will film it with his camera phone, and put it online. Is that what you want?”

Billy gives the two of them murderous glares, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Didn’t think so.” When he’s satisfied, Steve finally turns his back on them, walking down the hall.

Eddie is glued to him like his shadow as Steve instructs him flatly, “Have the interns take his desk and move it to my office.”

“Will do.” Eddie replies.

“Also, I need you around this weekend to help review his clients.” He adds, Eddie stumbling to a stop.

“This weekend?” He repeats in surprise.

“You have a problem with that?” Steve glares.

Eddie stutters, “No. I - Just - it’s my uncle’s 65th birthday so I was gonna go home and-'' Steve waves a hand dismissively, clearly having been rhetorical in his asking as he heads into his office, not even listening to what Eddie’s saying as he stutters through promising to cancel and be available to Steve.

Then Eddie deflates.

He hasn’t made it home for a birthday since Wayne’s 60th - back before he started this godforsaken job. And now he has to tell him that he’ll be missing another.

He knows Wayne will understand. He always does. But it doesn’t change the fact that Eddie works for the devil.

The old man tells him as much on a call around lunch, suggesting, as he always does, that he quit if it’s making him miserable.

Eddie launches into his usual defense, until he sees Steve approaching, and then he’s changing his tone, using his customer service voice dismissively - feigning aiding a client - before quickly getting off the call.

“That your family?” Steve asks bitterly. No misapprehension on his end. Not even for a moment.

Eddie puts the phone on the receiver. Doesn’t lie. “Yes.”

“They tell you to quit?” He presses.

“Every single day.” Eddie replies, and then without missing a beat, picks up the phone as it rings. “Mr. Harrington’s office.” He greets, eyes still on Steve. His loyal devotee.

A woman’s voice on the other end of the phone overshadows Steve’s gloom as she tells him. “Hello, this is the office of Mr. Holloway. He’d like to speak to Mr. Harrington in his office as soon as possible, please.”

“Oh. Okay. All right.” The two hang up.

“Holloway wants to see you upstairs immediately.” He tells Steve.

Steve groans in reply, “Fine. Come and get me in ten minutes with an excuse. We’ve got a lot to do.”

Steve repeats it as he walks away, like Eddie is an idiot, despite him not failing him once in years. “Ten minutes.”

“Okay.” Eddie answers, trying not to look at Steve’s ass as he heads to the elevators. And failing spectacularly, as he always does.

While he’s gone, Eddie stares at the clock as it ticks to the next minute. After five, he heads upstairs. He whispers a quick hello to Nicole, Mr. Holloway’s secretary, before hesitating outside of the office to the company president, waiting to interrupt down to the minute.

Once it has been ten minutes exactly, he knocks, the voices inside halting before Mr. Holloway, is yelling for him to come in.

He pokes his head inside, still holding the door open, only to find the both men in pause, Steve turning his head at him, as Mr. Holloway sees who it is, his expression mildly perturbed.

“We’re in a meeting.” He says in a clipped tone, but Eddie is infinitely more afraid of displeasing Steve than someone who at least must have a shred of human understanding in him.

He musters his most charming smile, “Sorry to interrupt.” Rattling off his excuse, he notes how Steve’s whole body seems to unload some of its usual tension, his whole demeanor changing.

Steve’s looking at him with relief, and Eddie is put off by it, by the way Steve catches his eye as he mouths “Come here,” when Eddie is done speaking, his head jerking forward for Eddie to come in.

Eddie obeys immediately, coming over from where he was standing at the door, walking slowly to Steve’s side as he watches Tom watch the two of them.

Steve turns back to Mr. Holloway, “Tom I understand… I understand the predicament that we are in.”

“And—” Steve spares him another look. “And…there’s…well, I mean…There’s something that you should know.” Steve clears his throat, building to this information as he looks at Eddie.

Then Steve declares, “We’re getting married.”

Eddie blinks at him. “Who’s getting married?” He whispers, his incredulous question said loud enough for only him to hear. Steve smiles at him, the dazzling version he reserves for clients. But not Eddie. Never Eddie.

“You and I, sweetheart. We’re getting married.” He nearly whispers back. Like it wasn’t news to them both.

Steve nods as if he has further settled into this idea, looking back to their boss as he repeats. “We’re getting married. Eddie and I.”

Then Steve gives him a familiar look - one that has always meant ‘Do this or I’ll fire you.’

Eddie suddenly finds that he can’t nod fast enough. “Yes! Yes!”

He looks back at Mr. Holloway as well as he confirms, “We are getting married.” The words feel clunky in his mouth.

And maybe it’s a joke, a misunderstanding, a test of loyalty that surely he’s going to pass?

Only the company president hesitates at his confirmation, addressing Steve as he asks in slight amusement but wholehearted confusion. “Isn’t he… your secretary?”

“Executive assistant.” Eddie butts in to clarify, like it makes any difference at all.

Steve laughs heartily, going for the kill. “Well, it wouldn’t be the first time one of us fell for our secretaries. Would it, Tom?”

Tom gives him a wry sort of ‘you-got-me-there’ smile when he mentions it - Steve bringing to recall a similar event transpiring with his (third?) wife.

“So, yeah…The truth is, you know, Eddie and I. We’re…we are uh, just two people who weren’t meant to fall in love, but we did. All those late nights at the office, the music…” Steve squeezes Eddie’s arm then and continues, “I tried to fight it, and well, you can’t fight a love like this.”

Tom actually looks satisfied and Steve clears his throat. “So… Are we good - with this? Are you happy? Because we are happy.” Steve gestures to the two of them, “So happy.”

Tom smiles, voice soft. “Steve. It’s terrific.” He raises his hand, displaying his own wedding ring. “Just make it legal. Mmm?”

“Of course! We uh, we need to get ourselves to the immigration office, huh? Straighten this whole mess out.” Steve chuckles, bidding him goodbye before the two head back to their own floor, Eddie’s thoughts a whirlwind.

Eddie tries to follow Steve’s fast footsteps. They’re not even on their floor yet, and the news has already spread.

Computers ding with notifications, sounding off behind them as they go, the entire office looking at the two of them, unable to hold their whispers until they pass. Patrick snickers at him, making lewd gestures as he passes, his shirt stained with coffee.

Eddie wordlessly follows Steve into his office, closing the door behind him, and watches as his boss exhales a sigh, sitting on his desk and looking at Eddie expectantly - like they were here for a planned meeting and not like he didn’t just announce their engagement.

Eddie takes a deep breath. Reminds himself of why he works here. With this sociopath. Then he tells said sociopath, “I don’t understand what’s happening.”

“This is for you too.” Steve replies, as though it’s all so simple.

“Do explain.” Eddie deadpans.

“I was going to be deported, and they were going to give Billy my job.” Steve says, like it makes all the senses in the world.

“So, naturally, I would have to marry you.” Eddie gapes, tone as sarcastic as possible.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Steve is being sarcastic now too, “Were you saving yourself for someone special?”

Eddie is mildly offended at what Steve is implying. “I’d like to think so. Plus, you know, it’s illegal.”

Steve chuckles, “They’re looking for terrorists, not for music producers.”

“Steve.” Eddie grits out, hoping his voice is coming out firm.

“Yes?” Steve answers nonchalantly, like they’re just having another conversation about his job performance.

“I’m not going to marry you.” Eddie insists.

“Sure you are.” Steve snaps back, “Because if you don’t marry me, your dreams of touching people’s lives with your lyrical prowess are dead.”

Eddie’s jaw actually drops. Steve bulldozes ahead and breaks it down for him. “Billy is going to fire you the second I’m gone. Guaranteed. Which leaves you unemployed and connectionless in the music industry, begging producers to listen to some no-name’s track. That means that all the time that we spent together - all the lattes, all the canceled dates, all the midnight Excedrin runs, were all for nothing, and you can kiss being any kind of a musician goodbye.”

He continues, as though all hope is not lost. “But don’t worry, after the required allotment of time, we’ll get a quickie divorce, and you’ll be done with me. But until then, like it or not, you are mine. Okay?”

He’s his.

The phone rings from Eddie’s desk. Steve gestures pointedly out the door, “Phone’s ringing.”

Eddie doesn’t know what to do with himself other than exit the office and pick it up.

“Good morning, Mr. Harrington’s office.” He says robotically.

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nolita-fairytale · 2 years

Text

still into you | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader | chapter four: sunday

summary: after returning home from new york, carmy has a surprise & a very important question for you.

warnings: swearing, no use of y/n, she/her pronouns, drinking & smoking, suggestive language.

word count: 4.3k

listen to: sympathy - the goo goo dolls | still into you (cover) - julia sheer | let's get married - bleachers | (playlist here)

a/n: this chapter has me screaming internally and externally. i'm not well. now who's ready for some early carmy x reader angst?! thank you to all who reblogged, commented, liked. i will keep writing and annoying everyone w my obsession for this man.

read: chapter three

Sunday

It’s early-Sunday morning by the time you arrive at JFK. You, Sydney, Marcus, and Carmy wait in the hellishly long Starbucks line because it’s the only fuckin’ thing available at the airport this morning.

Fuckin’ monopolies, you think to yourself, begrudgingly.

After ordering all at once, the four of you wait for your coffees. Your order isn’t the most unique – just a cafe au lait with oat milk, no sugar. The hard at work barista quickly makes their way through all four coffee orders, glad that they’re simple. As the order’s up, you watch the barista add the four cups – three hot, one iced – to the pick up station.

“Christ, I need this,” Sydney grumbles, her head throbbing from a few too many drinks the night before.

She’s exhausted from the weekend and knows she stayed out a little too late last night. This morning’s wake up call for the airport was less than pleasant, and she’s just glad that she can sleep on the plane.

“Someone’s hungover,” you chide playfully.

“Shut up,” she shoots back, earning a laugh from you.

You look down at your coffee cup, immediately noticing that the name on the coffee cup is not yours.

“Oh shit. I think I took the wrong coffee by accident,” you say, your face twisting a confused look.

Carmy’s eager to rush to your side, taking the coffee from you, “Huh. Looks like you got switched up with… some guy named Sam?”

He takes your cup of coffee, walking back over to the pick up station. There’s a man picking up a coffee cup with your name written on it in bold letters. Carmy chuckles realizing that you have almost the exact same order as this ‘Sam’ guy.

“Excuse me. I think my fiance accidentally took your coffee. Are you Sam?” Carmy asks, holding out the coffee cup to the stranger.

“Oh! I wondered why my extra double shot of espresso was missing from the-,” he starts, checking the label. “Yeah, this is it. Thanks for lookin’ out!”

Carmy gives the man a half smile, before jumping at the sound of Sydney’s voice, pitched louder and higher than normal.

“Carmen Berzatto, something you want to share with the class? Did you just say FIANCE!?” Sydney practically shrieks, garnering the attention of the long Starbucks line adjacent to where you stand.

“No fucking way!” Marcus exclaims, his voice booming as he grabs your left hand. “You guys are engaged?! Since when!!”

The four of you look around, noticing that your little outburst has earned an assortment of reactions from the various people in line. You’re blushing and Carmy’s face has turned a shade of pink that seems to spread all the way underneath the neckline of his white t-shirt. Suddenly, he feels overwhelmingly shy, as he focuses on not dropping either of your coffee cups.

“I’m so sorry. We did not mean to disturb or alarm-. You know… what you guys got goin’ on this morning,” Sydney apologizes, her eyes scanning the coffee line.

“But our best friends literally just got engaged!”

A few people in line are clapping, a few others turn to each other, whispering excitedly, while a few ‘congratulations’ are uttered in the direction of you and Carmy.

“Fiance, huh?” you ask, under your breath.

“Tryin’ it out,” he answers with a shrug.

You can tell it brings him more satisfaction than he’ll ever admit – getting to call you his fiance – and Carmy can’t wait to be out of the spotlight as he quickly ushers you, Syd, and Marcus away from the airport Starbucks. As you head towards your gate, Syd and Marcus continue the berating for not telling them sooner.

“So you guys were just gonna get engaged all privately and shit and not tell us?” Marcus teases. “Shit, man. That’s fucked up.”

“It just happened last night,” you defend yourself, before shooting Carmy a look. “And I didn’t know we were telling anyone yet.”

The blush that runs across his cheeks turns a shade darker, and you can tell that he’s completely and utterly embarrassed by all of this attention.

“But where’s the ring? I thought you-?!” Sydney exclaims, earning a strong glare from Carmy that says ‘stop talking right now.’

“This is why we didn’t say anything,” he grumbles, cutting her off so that she can’t say anymore. As Sydney realizes she’s almost spoiled the surprise, she’s quick to course correct by laughing it off.

“Ha! Yes, right, that’s uh-. Who needs a ring anyways?” she pivots, earning a laugh from you in response to her rather strange behavior.

“The ring’s… a secondhand thought at this point,” you placate them, making sure your casual tone communicates your lack of expectation.

Even though you feel like both Carmy and Sydney are being weird right now, you move right past it. You’ve never been one to need something physical to understand how much Carmy loves you. With your coffee in one hand, and Carmy’s hand in the other, you give him a reassuring squeeze.

Ring or no ring, you were going to marry the love of your life.

By the time you make it home, you’re exhausted and so grateful that you had the foresight to take tomorrow off. You knew you’d wanted an extra day to prepare for the week ahead and a day to spend with Carmy on his day off.

Carmy, your fiance.

You get butterflies just thinking about it.

After a long weekend of cooking, exploring – not to mention casually getting engaged – you’re ready to do fuckall for a day and a half before your work week starts. You figure out what you can push to tomorrow: grocery shopping, a few chores here and there. You find yourself curled up on the couch with Aioli, who seems like she’s genuinely missed you as she cuddles up to you. She bumps her soft head against your shoulder, before curling up into the sweetest little croissant next to you on the couch.

You flip through your phone, scrolling through some social media app as you hear a chaotic rustling sound coming from your bedroom. Seconds later, Carmy comes bursting back into the living room, phone in hand. He looks worried, prompting you to ask:

“Everything alright?”

“Ffffffffuck!” he exclaims, frustratedly. “Just got a text from Fak. Emergency at the restaurant, babe.”

“Shit,” you swear.

“I gotta take care of this,” he admits with a huff.

“Right now?” you ask, unable to hide your disappointment that after fifteen minutes of being home, he’s already rushing back to work.

He shoots you a remorseful look before saying, “Yeah.”

“Can’t leave for the fuckin’ weekend without something going to shit,” he mutters under his breath.

He knows he’s laying it on thick.

“Okay,” you resign yourself.

“Will you be home for dinner?”

“Think so,” he says, almost as a consolation. “I’ll shoot you a text when I work this shit out.”

You nod in understanding.

“I don’t have the energy to go to the store today. Thought I’d pick something up from the Thai place across the street we like,” you suggest.

“Sure,” he nods in agreement, urgently.

You know he’s in a hurry, noticing as his eyes flicker from you to the door, then back to his phone.

“Okay, last thing: I uh-, before you go,” you begin.

You watch as Carmy’s face softens. He knows how much you were looking forward to spending the afternoon with him. He only feels a little bad about the fact that he’s totally pulling one over on you.

“I’m gonna meet up with Natalie for a walk later. Are you… cool if I tell her?” you ask, checking in.

He waits a beat before nodding, “Uh. Yeah. She’ll probably kill me if we don’t.”

“Right, and, our friends kind of told an entire Starbucks line at an airport so…” you reply playfully.

He gives you a half smile and you can see he’s preoccupied with whatever emergency is happening at the restaurant.

“Okay, that’s all I have. Love you, Bear,” you say, letting him know he can go.

“Love you,” he replies, before leaving the softest goodbye kiss on your lips.

And he’s off, hurrying out of your apartment like a bat out of hell.

Only there’s no emergency at the restaurant.

He just needed an excuse to get out of the house and get the ring. Your ring. He’s been blowing Richie’s phone up all day, every chance he had. Every moment he thought you weren’t looking, he’d send a string of texts to Richie: asking him where he’d be, if he could grab it at home, bring it to the restaurant.

Carmy walks briskly towards The Bear. He wonders if his quick pace is a symptom of his nerves. Last night’s conversation had been so casual, and it’s not like you were going to change your mind. But there was something about doing it again – doing this properly – that made him feel antsy.

When he arrives at The Bear, he enters through the back of the restaurant, marching right into the kitchen. He knows that the staff on shift should be prepping for dinner service, ready to reopen for dinner within the hour.

“What’s goin’ on, Carmy? Thought you wouldn’t be in till Tuesday,” Angel says as soon as he sees Carmy.

“No, yeah, we just got back,” Carmy says back, sending Angel a half smile as a greeting. “Just uh, pickin’ up something from Richie.”

“He left for a few earlier, but… think he’s back? Think he’s out there,” Angel nods towards the front of house, before returning to what he was doing previously.

Carmy’s eyes scan the back of house before calling out, “Yo, cousin!”

Moments later, the taller, pure pain-in-the-ass of a man’s bursting through the double doors that lead to the dining area.

“There he is! The man that’s been blowin’ up my phone all day!” Richie shouts back, making his way into the kitchen. “Thought I’d have to get a restraining order, ya fuckin’ lizard.”

“Do you have it or what?” Carmy snaps, getting right to the point.

“Hello to you too, Carmen,” Richie replies.

Carmy rolls his eyes as Richie glares at him.

Richie’s face falls with a sigh. He’s not going to give his cousin a hard time – not today.

“Yeah, ‘course I do,” Richie says, pulling the small box he’s been holding onto all weekend out of his pocket.

“Jeff! How was New York, baby?” Tina asks, as she approaches the both of them. Her eyes widen as soon as she sees what Richie’s holding.

“Oh shit.”

“Right?” Richie exclaims, with a rousing laugh. “Carmen’s finally lockin’ it down, T! Just like ya told him.”

“Watcha guys lookin’ at? Hey! Welcome back, Bear!” Fak greets, interrupting the conversation by joining in.

“This son of a bitch is about to be the luckiest man alive. Can’t believe the broad hasn’t left your ass yet,” Richie says, encouraging Carmen in the only way he knows how to.

“Ooh let me see,” Fak says, reaching out to grab the ring box.

Fak opens the box, seeing the shiny engagement ring, his eyes widening as soon as he realizes what’s going on.

“Wow, Bear. You think she’ll say yes?” Fak asks, excitedly, as he hands the box back to Carmy.

Tina glares at him while Richie shouts something along the lines of, “You really wanna put that in his fuckin’ head, you fuckin’ stroke?”

“First of all, I’m not a fuckin’ stroke. And second of all-!” Fak shrugs.

“Uh, first of all. You are. And second of all, of course she’s gonna say yes you fuckin’ waste of space,” Richie interjects, protectively shutting any notion that you’d say ‘no’ down.

“Very nice, Jeff,” Tina compliments, admiring the ring. She exchanges glances with Carmy. “Very nice. I think she’s really gonna like that.”

Carmy smiles at the sound of Tina’s approval. As much as he’d like to take credit for picking out a beautiful engagement ring all by himself, he’d asked Sugar to go with him a few weeks ago. She’d been surprised he asked in the first place, but he’d wanted to get it right, and knew he’d want a second opinion. It wasn’t till Sydney caught wind of his plans that she insisted she join in, adding a third opinion to the mix.

Surprisingly, it hadn’t been a ‘too many cooks in the kitchen’ scenario – both his sister and his work-wife acting as his biggest cheerleaders.

“Alright you fuckin’ replicants. Let’s get back to work,” Richie orders, shooing Tina and, especially Fak, away.

He makes sure no one else is listening before he leans in, patting Carmy on the back a few times while he says:

“You got yourself a good thing. Proud of you..”

“Thank you, cuz,” Carmy replies, with a shake of his head. “And thanks. For holding onto this for me.

Richie starts to back away, pointing a finger at Carmy, “Don’t fuck it up.”

Carmy shakes his head.

He’s really going to try not to.

While Carmy makes a quick trip to the grocery store before heading home to set up his surprise for you, you’re across town with Natalie. Not a bad alternative, you think to yourself. You’ve picked up a coffee for you, and a matcha latte for her, as the two of you wander alongside the River Walk.

“I’m dying for a cup of coffee,” she whines, dissatisfied with the grassy green liquid in her cup. “This whole tea thing really isn't doing it for me and I can’t decide if I like or hate matcha so I just keep drinking them to see.”

“Yeah I-, I do not envy you. While I do really enjoy matcha, no amount of matcha lattes will ever hit like coffee,” you commiserate with your soon-to-be sister in law. “How’ve you been feeling?”

“Like garbage,” she exhales an exasperated sigh, woefully. “Don’t get me wrong. Pete and I have been trying to get pregnant for a while now, and I’m so happy…!”

“But I’m also exhausted and my boobs feel huge,” Sugar continues, and you can hear how tired she is in her voice. “The whole first trimester, I don’t think I slept through the night and I spent every single morning just emptying any contents of my stomach into the toilet. My clothes are starting to fit differently which is… well, it is what it is… and on top of it all, I’m seriously craving the strangest things.”

You chuckle, “Sounds like a nightmare.”

“Yeah it’s… it’s super weird. But enough about me and my swollen boobs…” she agrees. “How was New York? I saw some of the pictures on your instagram… it looks like you guys had a great time!”

It’s the perfect segway for you to tell her the news, so you take a sip of your coffee, suddenly feeling a little nervous and also excited to tell her.

“Yeah, so uh, that’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about,” you start, some of the nerves trickling into the way your voice sounds.

“Oh god. What’d he do?” Sugar asks back, instantly.

You laugh, quick to reassure her, “No, it’s not like that! New York was… really great.”

You take a beat before continuing.

“It was kinda weird too. I think… just because we have so many memories there, yknow?” you begin, a small hesitancy in your voice that Natalie instantly detects. She listens as you both continue your walk, coffee cups in hand. “And I think it made us both think… about what we want… from our relationship…”

“Okay…” she trails off, her ears practically perking up as soon as she knows where this conversation could be going.

You stop your walk, turning to face her.

“And we talked… and… decided that….”

“Carmy and I… are getting married,” you say, unsure of how you’re so cool and level-headed as you say it.

“Shut up!” she exclaims, grabbing for your left hand almost instantly.

“We’re not-, we don’t have a ring yet,” you’re quick to explain, as she shoots you a look. Her eyes flicker from your ring finger, then back to your face. She knows he has the ring, and the fact that you’re not wearing it right now means he didn’t bring it to New York with him.

She’ll let him off the hook. Just this once.

“That soft shitty bitch,” she sighs, with an eye roll. “I could kill him for not doing it for real but… I know it’s your style.”

“Right.”

“Oh my god! You and Carmy are getting married!!” she squeals. This may be the best news she’s gotten since she and Pete found out they were pregnant. “I mean. Took him long enough.”

You roll your eyes playfully, “Sounds like we’re finally gonna be sisters-in-law.”

“Finally!” she repeats with a laugh.

You spend a little more time with Nat at the River Walk, before the both of you stop to get a snack. Sugar’s totally honest with how strange her cravings have been as you stop at a convenience store for pickle chips, a pop, and a pack of twizzlers. You decide to try her very strange combination of snacks, just to hold you over before dinner.

As you make your way home, you notice that the days are getting longer. The sun is still high in the sky and it reminds you that summer is almost here. It’s wild to think about. Your trip to New York hadn’t just gotten into Carmy’s head. It’s had you in yours too. It’s strange to think that, this time three years ago, Carmy was but a painful memory: your best friend who’d just left town, your best friend who couldn’t bother to call you back, your best friend who had broken your heart because maybe, just maybe, you were in love with him.

And now, thanks to a one week trip to Chicago that set it all in motion, you’re marrying him.

You thank your lucky stars that he managed to work up the nerve to call you that Fall – that he managed to swallow his pride and ask you to come help out with this new restaurant he was working on.

You take the long way home, enjoying your own company too much. You figure you’ll take a shower when you get home, change into your comfiest clothes, then head across the street to order dinner before Carmy gets home. You hadn’t heard from yet, which only told you that the emergency at the restaurant was most likely a big one. You expect for him to be gone most of the night, crawling into bed while you’re half asleep after scarfing down reheated leftovers. You weigh your options – how you’d like to spend the night by yourself:

Trash TV. Snuggling up with Aioli. Maybe even doing a load of laundry.

As you turn your key in the door, you hear a clamoring of pots and pans.

But Carmy hadn’t texted you.

He wasn’t home already, was he?

You push the door open, pulling your keys out of the door, before placing them into the dish that sits on the end table right by the front door.

“Carm?” you question, as you hear movement in the apartment.

You can smell the scent of boiling water, cured pork, and soon enough, you spot one of your clear, glass bowls filled with a tomato passata. The sight stops you in your tracks. He’s got his french-laundry-blue apron on, because, of course, he’d wanted some for the house too. You watch as he moves around the kitchen, his attention focused on chopping up half of a red onion. Carmy must’ve lit every single candle that he could find in the apartment and scattered them around your living space before you’d gotten here.

Aioli seems transfixed by the revolutions of the vinyl Carmy’s put on as the record, perched on the windowsill next to your record player. The turntable slows to a halt, signaling that it’s time to flip it over.

You’re speechless.

“Carmy, what’s going on?” you ask, looking around the room.

“Babe, can you flip the record over?” he asks, motioning towards the windowsill.

“Uh…” you manage to get out, setting your bag down by the entryway. You make your way over to alcove, moving the needle back to its place, before flipping over the record. As you glide the needle back onto Side B, the sounds of Louis Armstrong boom throughout your living room.

“I thought-, what happened at the restaurant?” you stammer through, watching him in your open kitchen. “I hadn’t heard from you I just thought-.”

But you don’t have the words, feeling caught off guard, because whatever’s happening in your apartment right now feels big.

Carmy reaches a stopping point, setting his knife down, and making his way to the sink to wash his hands. He’s not going to propose to you (again) while his hands smell like onions. Your eyes are glued to him as he removes his apron, before setting it down on the counter.

“Surprise?” he says, almost apologetically.

“Oh,” you say back, as if you’ve forgotten the entire English language.

You’re not sure why tonight feels big, but it does. Maybe it’s because you got engaged last night.

Yeah, maybe it’s that.

But Carmy’s not one to make a big romantic gesture, so you’re not sure what’s going on.

“Good ‘oh?’” he asks, his eyes wide as he stares at you.

“Uh. Yeah,” you say, your words finally coming back to you. “I thought you weren’t going to be home till late. I-, I hadn’t heard from you so I guess I wasn’t expecting you to be home.”

He smiles sheepishly.

“There wasn’t actually an emergency at the restaurant,” he states, shifting uncomfortably on his feet.

He’s not sure why he’s nervous. He’d asked you last night and you’d said yes.

But nonetheless, this feels different.

“Oh,” you repeat.

At this point, you’re not sure you’re supposed to be saying anything, so you wait. You examine the face of your very nervous boyfriend – fiance – as he looks down at the floor, his hands fumbling for something in his pocket.

“You’re my best friend and the love of my life,” he starts, and he hopes you can’t hear that his voice is shaking. “And I-, well, I wanna do this for real.”

Carmy pulls a small box out of his pocket.

“Woah,” you say, your eyes widening as soon as you see it. .

“I know you already said yes, but… I didn’t have this with me. So,” he continues, his face red as he drops to one knee.

“Holy shit, Carmy.”

You swallow because the way that he looks at you takes your breath away.

“Marry me?”

You can’t help it as tears spring to your eyes. He opens the ring box, and you gasp, seeing the most ‘you’ ring possible. This feels so different than his ask last night, and both proposals feel equally true to both your relationship. You reach for him, pulling him back up to you as you say:

“Yes, Carmen. And yes, again. Let’s fucking get married.”

And Carmy’s leaping to his feet, pulling you into the warmest, passionate embrace. You pull away, just far enough to grab his head and kiss him, pressing your lips to his even through your smiles and giggles.

“Thank God,” he sighs, causing you to laugh as you pull away from him.

“Did you think I’d say no after I said ‘yes’ last night?” you ask with a laugh.

He shakes his head, looking at the floor, “It just feels more real with the ring, you know? Speaking of.”

And finally, he pulls the ring out of the box he holds in his hands. With your hand in his, he slides the delicate engagement ring on your ring finger, and you shake your head in total disbelief.

“Carmy this is beautiful. Did you pick this out yourself?” you ask, holding out your hand to admire the ring.

“I… had some help. Syd and Sugar actually…,”

You nod in response. Of course Sydney and Natalie had helped. And it explains the weird comments all day long about him not having a ring.

“You did good, babe. So good,” you compliment, admiring the ring that sits so perfectly on your ring finger.

“Yeah?” he asks.

“Oh yeah,” you reassure him, grinning ear to ear.

And finally, he leans in and kisses you, crashing his lips against yours. It’s then that you realize how nervous he is, his face hot with excitement. His lips move against yours, leaving a few long, passionate kisses before he pulls away slowly. His forehead is pressed against yours as he whispers:

“I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Taking a more playful approach you giggle:

“And I can’t wait to be Mrs. Carmen Berzatto.”

“Shut up,” he smirks.

“You love it,” you say back.

“I do,” he declares. “I love you.”

Carmy sits you down, and you watch as he makes you an amatriciana. You know that food is the way he shows you love – the way he knows how to communicate. You’re practically blushing as you watch him create the sauce for the pasta, your eyes admiring your very hot fiance, and the stunning ring he’s just put on your finger. He smiles to himself, hearing you type away on your phone as he moves around the kitchen. You’ve, of course, gotta spread the word and let Sydney and Sugar know that you’re grateful for their help.

As Carmy continues to make dinner, you find a good place to pause your ‘we just got engaged’ PR campaign. You turn your phone ‘do not disturb’ so that you can focus on just being here with him. It’s then that it dawns on you: you get to watch him do this for the rest of your life. Carmy, your best friend, with all of his little neuroses, all of his quirky tattoos, those brilliant blue eyes of his, and his tender heart that you’d protect at all costs… he’s yours forever.

And you, his.

And you think to yourself, that maybe, this was always how it was supposed to be.

fin.

a/n: while the story is done, there is a lovely bonus smut scene called 'it's perfect, chef' that picks up right where this chapter left off.

taglist: @allthefandomstogether @gaysludge @sobshoney @harrysmatcha @starbritestarlite @tpwkkmila @cool-girl-is-hot @nunya7394 @galaxyprincess51-blog @carmensberzattos

#carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy x oc #the bear hulu #the bear fx #jeremy allen white #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto headcanon #the bear headcanon #carmy berzatto imagines #carmy berzatto fluff #make my heart surrender #still into you

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yetanothergreyjedi · 2 years

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Ghosts of Our Pasts

DP x DC crossover

Damian Wayne and Danny Fenton siblings AU

Parts 1 & 2 Part 3.

Part 4

He looked more like Bruce than Damian did, which felt right for the brother that had died leaving the assassins.

Danyal's stance was not a League of Assassin's stance. It could be that he was trying not to look openly hostile, but if Dick was honest, it reminded him most of Wonder Woman. Danyal stood like he might throw himself into the air with no expectation of gravity pushing him back down. Interesting, but de-escalation first.

"Richard Grayson," Dick introduced himself with a wave, "But you can call me Dick."

Danyal's lips did the little twitch that everyone's lips did when he told them his nickname. Daynal didn't relax yet though.

"Hi, Dick, I'm Danny."

"I'm Tim, but we established that... and you know Damian..."

The silence stretched.

"Well, if that's all you guys wanted..." Danny took a few steps backwards deeper into the alley, never letting any of them out of view.

"I should have gone with you." Damian said. It was an apology; though someone who didn't know him might not realize. "...I did not understand, not until I came here..."

Danny closed his eyes, looking away for the first time, clearly internalizing something in Damian's words. With every second, he seemed to realize that no attack was coming, and none was going to come.

"Maybe we should go back to the coffee shop?" Tim suggested, good. A neutral, public place would ease at least some of the tension.

Danny grimaced, a hand coming to rub the back of his neck. "Yeah, I sorta... I need to head back there..."

"Okay, cool," Dick said, as if the tension still didn't require tools to cut.

The walk back was an awkward mess of everyone trying to stay in Danny’s eyeline despite the crowd and him pretending he wasn't nervous when he couldn't see them. Dick had already decided that if Danny ran again, he was going to make sure they let him run. Chasing would only make him trust them less, and Danny wasn't a criminal (probably).

He gave them all an unreadable look as they re-entered the coffee shop. Dick wasn't sure what to make of it until an older bald man declared, "Mr. Fenton!"

"Sorry, Mr. Lancer..." Danny said, every bit a sheepish high-schooler. He sat down at the table he'd been at before the chase as the older man began a lecture about safety in big cities and staying with the group. Well... that complicated things.

The barista called Tim's drink.

---

"Are you good, man?" Tucker asked as soon as Lancer's attention went back to focusing on the group as a whole and not just their table.

"I think so, Tuck, but, uh... this... I don’t know, I don't think the just chilling plan is gonna work..."

"Is this related to Gotham? I thought she gave you permission?"

"She didn't just give me permission, Sam, she welcomed me... I know why now... its just complicated..."

"So... is that why the Wayne's were chasing you?" It was said like a joke.

Sam's eyes widened when he answered. "Yeah,"

Tucker stuttered out a confused mix of excited syllables, "Does that mean we get to meet—"

"Their just people, Tucker." Sam reminded, "Spoiled rich kids who at least manage to cause a scene at every other gala, so they get to rank slightly higher than all the other rich kids, because at least their not boring."

"Sam!" Tuckers exclamation caught Lancer's attention. The teacher called on them to restate what he had said. Sam guessed correctly, Tucker and Danny did not, and so the lecture started over.

Danny patiently waited for the lecture to end before whispering, "You guys know how I'm adopted..."

"Yeah..."

"So..." Danny gestured to the group of siblings that appeared to be arguing over... napkins? What were they doing?

"Wait, you know the Wayne's? Why didn't you ever say something?" Tucker exclaimed.

"Uh... well, the League of Assassins stuff..."

"Uh huh,"

"Actually, thats a bad way to explain it... my biological father is Batman."

"The Batman?!" For all of her 'people are just people' talk, Sam was too excited.

"Yes, and I can't fully explain all this without getting into identity stuff."

"Danny, Danny, Danny, first of all fair, but second, how far off is Wes?"

Danny tried very hard to not react to that. Which apparently was the same as saying yes, so he shushed them before they could start.

"I don't know how he connects to the League. This is more secret than mine, okay?"

They sobered, argued that phantom was equally important, but Danny didn't budge. So they excepted it as a weird obsession thing and agreed.

"Wait so, how did you not end up a Wayne kid?"

"The assassins have access to ectoplasm and I traded some for my parents to hide me."

"I hate that that tracks."

"To be fair, I didn't understand how actually messed up it was until later."

"Wait, so is Batman apart of..."

"I don't know, I thought he was. But the fact that I'm not stabbed right now is a good sign."

"You say that like you were planning on letting yourself get stabbed..."

Danny sighed, "It would be easier to fake my death... or like, actually die for a few days, than to resist and have them realize I'd require ending."

"Great." Sam said with forced cheer. "How are we modifying the vacation plans?"

Part 5

Tag list:

Next part is finished but is a bit short, I will not post 5 until I have 6 written and 6 is being mean to me.

Edit: Part six bit me, so it's in time out. But the draft is finished.

@spectralstardustandphantomnights @avelnfear @idfk-man10 @blackroserelina @candeartist422 @mur-ururu @luer-mirin @insufferablecatenthusiast @skulld3mort-1fan @alonedustspeck @voidbornposts @meira-3919 @marshmelloe @aethernorwood @mimilikey @undead-essence @cloudminder @markus209 @everything163 @latheevening226 @roman4517 @moobloomrights @battybatbat @lumosfeather18581 @werv @ahyesanerd @pyramaniac @lexdamo @princessbelix @bun-fish @deeannthepan @edgyboi10000 @thatrandomsarahchick @busterkeel @aconitewolfsbane @spoopyspoony @bright-shade @spidey29phangirl @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @keimiwolf @u-a-wizard-jamie @gay-puff @bicerise @itshype @blackfoxsposts @icanneverdecide @lolottes @chubbypotato @jovialherringtacoghost @saltyladynightmare

@pastalavistamf @mysoulspiralbound @mj-arts-n-stuff @andaspoonfulofangst-whoops @apointlessbox

Apparently there is a mention cap on posts, who knew! I will see about the best way to add anyone else.

#danny phantom #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #Ghosts of Our Pasts #part 4 #grey writes

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sapphicscholar · 3 months

Text

Hey there! With everyone posting their post-s3 Hacks fics now, I figured I'd shake things up a little with this multi-chapter X-Files AU! You don't need to have any knowledge of the original show (though there are Easter eggs dropped in for those who do) - this is more my playing in the world of the show but telling my own story than of trying to recreate the plot of TXF beat by beat.

Updates every Sunday unless the tag starts quieting down in a few weeks, in which case I'll probably bump to 2x/week updates :)

Chapter Preview:

Ava glances down at the slip of paper in her hands again. “B10.” The letters are scribbled in blue pen. The fuckers hadn’t even bothered to type up her new assignment on real letterhead or anything.

In the elevator, Ava’s finger hovers over the button for the basement level for a long moment before she jabs at G. If they’re not even going to pretend like this assignment is anything other than the death knell of a once-promising career, she doesn’t owe them a full 9-5 workday either. Besides, she’s pretty sure that the cute barista who works the morning shifts at Dolcezza was giving off flirty vibes last week, and she could really use the pick me up after the week she’s had. Not that she’s more than a day into it. Fuck.

Still, a good matcha latte is enough to fix most days a little bit, and even though Sam hadn’t been working, Ava decides it was the right decision. She almost isn’t resentful as she stabs at B and feels the elevator trundle down to the rarely used basement level of the Hoover Building.

Even though she’s pretty sure the janitorial staff hits all the floors, the air down here feels dusty. Like, call a doctor and order an inhaler levels of dusty. She sniffles a little as she peers down the hallway until she finds office 10, which she thinks might actually be the only office down here. With a grunt of effort and a bump of her hip, she manages to shove open the heavy door without having to put down her latte or her phone or the Post-it. She’s busy enough celebrating her small victory that she barely notices the other body in the room until a loud, “Excuse you,” startles Ava enough to have her latte slipping from her hand and crashing to the floor.

“Fuck!” Ava yells, watching as eight dollars spills across the carpeted floor—and, oh god, carpet? No wonder it smells like the 70s down here.

“Are you just gonna watch that? Pick it up!”

Ava jumps into action, grabbing her mostly empty cup from the ground and tossing it into the trash. It’s only then that she properly notices the woman who’s been yelling at her. She’s dressed impeccably in black suit pants, heels, and a satiny blouse thing, and Ava wonders how the hell she got lost and ended up down here instead of wherever she belongs. Ava’s bet is on legal. Maybe HR… A shame. She’s pretty hot, but probably way too into rule following and chain of command shit to be fun.

#fanfic #hacks hbo #ava x deborah #ava daniels #deborah vance #The X-Files AU #ao3feed #folie à deux

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cobaltperun · 2 months

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Hi there!

So, I was supposed to be on a break until the end of the month. That is, as you can probably see, over. Things happened and writing is my best escape. I am, however, slowing down the updates, and I'll likely never have the same update speed I did while I was starting Lost.

And in case you didn't see it up in the description.

Main Masterlist

Several things.

Requests will never be closed again and the character list, as well as the requests I'm doing are under 'keep reading' (now also adding upcoming long stories and current works in progress)

I'll keep the list of characters here on this post, but I will be pickier about requests, I do want to mainly write the long stories and add in a request every couple of chapters or so. And I'll only do requests that inspire me.

🔞 next to the character means I will do smut requests as well. However, I only write top reader.

I will do any gender, female, male, gender neutral, trans, anything.

Characters might come and go from the list, but there are some characters that are always going to stay. Those are:

Tara Carpenter (Scream) 🔞

Wednesday Addams (Wednesday)

Natasha Romanoff (MCU) 🔞

Wanda Maximoff (MCU) 🔞

Nami (One Piece) 🔞

Nico Robin (One Piece)

Riza Hawkeye (FMA)

Rin Tohsaka (Fate/Stay Night)

Characters that are currently available:

Mabel (Finestkind)

Korra (Avatar: The Legend of Korra)

Daenerys Targaryen (Game of Thrones)

I will also do platonic requests for

Straw Hats

Most One Piece characters

Most FMA: Brotherhood characters

Most Devil May Cry characters

Most Fate/Stay Night characters

Requests I'm doing

Tara x fem R - playing strip pool (not specified, but I'm guessing smut is acceptable ending to this) 🔞

Tara x male R - smut, Tara gets horny while R is on the phone 🔞

Tara x fem R - set in Scream 6, R gets attacked, angst with happy ending

Sam x fem R (Danny's sister) - R gets attacked.

Wednesday x fem R - enemies to lovers with hellhound R and jealous Xavier

Tara x male R - R, the doctor, helps Tara give birth to their first child. (Sidenote, I'm not getting technical with this, it will get really fluffy though.)

Tara x male R - they are dating, smut happens 🔞

Jerks With Hearts of Gold - first kiss, bed breaking 🔞

Wednesday x R - Opposites attract, though a bit slowly.

Tara x R - They love to hate each other. 🔞 (small smut)

Tara x R - Cute barista crush

Middle sibling Carpenter fem R - things go very wrong very fast

Tara x GP! R - Soft first time smut 🔞

Daenerys x female R - Dany gets a bit jealous when Viserion likes R.

Tara x R - Based on Cop car song

Tara x female R - How deep is your love

Cairo x female R - Poetry reading

Upcoming long stories

Mystery of You - Tara Carpenter x female Reader (She's a mystery, she's more guarded than anyone you've ever met, except maybe her older sister, but you are just drawn to her)

Savin Me - Tara Carpenter x female Reader (A single message changes Tara's life, also probably a sort of a Lost AU)

Endless War - Female Reader (EMIYA inspired powers) x Tara Carpenter (Being a hero was fine, until people you loved became involved)

Unnamed - Vada x female Reader (Vada meets you on the rooftop)

Unnamed - Lorraine x female Reader (Cop Reader comes just in time)

Unnamed - Mabel x female Reader (You and Mabel have secrets, ones you keep even from one another)

Unnamed - Wednesday Addams x Wolverine female Reader (Wednesday ignores Rowan and escapes)

Unnamed - Cairo Sweet x female Reader (A chance meeting starts something neither of you expected)

Leave out all the rest - Natasha Romanoff x female Reader (Starting this again, since I didn't really like where the original was heading)

Works in progress:

Eternal Flame - Jenna Ortega x female Reader

Lost - Tara Carpenter x female Reader

Darkest Part - Astrid Deetz x female Reader

#perunrequests

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neetily · 2 months

Text

↳ EVENT 37. Sam (Sleepy/Good Morning Sex & Coffee Shop AU)

— ✧ warnings: coffee shop AU, Creampie, Workplace Setting — ✧ word count: 1,645 — ✧ genre: smut (18+)

— ✧ A/N: reposting from my old account since i was asked to! formatting might be off, but it's still readable.

The relationship shared between a diligent barista and their regular customer is a special one, isn't it? The safely secured daily meeting, rise and shine to a new day full of you, greeting him with wide smiles and assured orders that he's learnt to heart by now; he's been seeing you long enough, right? As if you always show up for him. Your usual, you come to say, and he immediately knows what you mean. Working hands already moving on their own accord towards the ingredients, a set in stone routine he's come to enjoy since your arrival in the quaint little coffee shop.

He'd only picked up the job by chance, too. A change of pace or something, but seeing you saunter into the store every morning to greet the day with him without fail always has him cheesing, heart aflutter with— oh? A little crush? Surely these things go the other way, no? The trope being that the customer is in love with the barista, or maybe he's been consuming too many romcoms as of late. Imagining instead of the trained actors, it's you and him. He's allowed a little indulgence every now and then, right?

Well, maybe the opposite is true, too. The way you blush before his playful flirting, always hiding behind the faux professional facade of the work relationship that binds him, because it's easier that way, right? Dipping his toes into conversation with you, experiencing just a small slice of your daily life with the bright attitude he so often adopts to keep you coming back for more, and then abruptly leaving. Just like that: "Order number one!" Always number one, first in line; at least when he's serving, anyway.

And then, usually, you're gone. And it's nice like that, isn't it? To have such a regular ritual, your name ingrained in his brain, prepared to assist you eagerly in your morning seeking of energy. And in return, he gets a tummy full of butterflies and a reason to wake up tomorrow morning too.

But, you've shown up far earlier than usual for your coffee today. Only allowing him time to turn the lights on in the store and start preparing for the busy day ahead of him before your face popped up behind the glass windows, seeking his attention. And he'd intended on shooing you away, company policy begging him to act accordingly in the face of your unbridled enthusiasm to see him today, but there's just something about you— how easily you managed to worm your way inside the warm shop once he'd unlocked the door for you, his voice gentle and soft in his faux scolding of your barging in; he's not actually upset. In fact, quite the opposite. Allowing you special privileges simply because he's harbouring a painfully obvious crush on you, standing behind the counter as you edge the outskirts of it curiously. "Your usual?" He'd asked you. And to his surprise, you hummed a plain. "No, something new."

Turns out, your something new might be his new favourite.

Balls deep in your squishy little cunt, greedy hole just gushing around his fat cock with every pent up needy thrust he fucks into you in the cramped utility closet— he's been daydreaming about fucking you like this for a while now. Happy to have his fantasies confirmed, casually fucking into you as if he was your lover, hasn't he known you for long enough by now to be considered as such? "How— Fuck, so fuckin' tight—" He moans, all hushed despite the fact that it's only you and him in the store right now; co-workers won't be far behind at this rate. "How is it?" He smiles against your neck, nose buried behind your ear to let you hear exactly how happy he is to service you this good morning. Do you like your new order? Can I get you anything else? Your leg trembling in his tense hold, knee slung over his inner elbow as his own bend into his thrusts, grabby hands groping at your ass in an effort to keep you stable as his balls slap back against you from how desperately he delivers on your new order, wants to fuck you so well in hopes of having you order this from him again. A new usual, full of gasps and groans and fuck, your tight little cunt sucking his cock off perfectly.

You don't need to make sense in your response for him to understand what you're saying. Perks of serving you every morning, he muses to himself. Babbling moans behind your makeshift hand gag, muffled whines and furrowed brows encouraging him to continue, to keep driving his tip against that sensitive spot that makes you fucking squeak for him, a disgusting display of indulgence from how hard and fast he fucks into you; like a filthy virgin. Eager and reckless with it, a moaning mess himself from how dizzy he gets, struggling to keep up with his eager to please humps in and out of your squelchy hole, leaving himself more than a little breathless before you.

And his thighs burn too; it's far too early in the morning to be exerting such strenuous amounts of activity, but he's just so fervent. Keen to keep you coming back, to retain his favourite regular customer and her pretty pussy, precum turning your insides all sloppy and wet to help ease the glide of his rock hard cock in and out. Just throbbing with want to prove himself to you, his voice coming out all choked and strained from how much your hole has to stretch to fit his ardent fucks. "So good, fuck, jus' like that, yeah?" He's not even fully aware of what he's saying, trying only to turn you on enough to keep you squeezing his cock like that. Acting on pure impulse, and his instinctive need to praise you. Can't focus on how much he's exhausting himself before the long shift ahead of him when he's so fucking deep inside your tight little cunt, determined to fuck you good enough to keep you coming back over and over again. Daily morning fucks to help wake him up, to give you the energy you so clearly desire. God, he knew you were his favourite customer for a reason.

Body flushed and skin sweat soaked, he continues pumping his fat cock into you despite being short on time. Too lost in the way your soft insides massage and beg for his protruding length, how your cunt swallows his cock whole and still asks for more, twitching around him so nicely when he starts to press sloppy circles against your wet clit, whining loud in response for how much it throbs under his touch. It's silly how fast his orgasm grows, creeping up on him with every bullying thrust of his cock inside of you, every little gasp and mewl his drooling tip fucks outta ya.

And shit, he doesn't even fucking know if anyone else has entered the store or not by now, not even done preparing for the day before being coaxed into your warm wetness like a bitch in heat. A mere dog when presented with your pretty pussy, convincing himself that he's just putting the customer first, right? Helping you reach your high with harsh swipes of his thumb, fucking begging for you to cream his cock from how messy his thrusts grow, simply stuttering into you in an attempt to hold back so that you can cum first. So that he can fulfil his role as your server, and see to your needs before his own.

"C'mon, let me make you feel good—" He whines, right down your ear all pretty and high pitched, shivering into you with haphazard thrusts, your cunt easily edging him until finally, you tip over and he's graced by the feeling of your walls squeezing around him more, convulsing around his cock in a way that leaves him light-headed and addicted, much like you are to his morning coffee. A few fucks later into your impossible tight cunt and he's giving you your morning cream too, pumping you full of sticky cum, fat load filling you up as your walls milk him empty—getting your moneys worth—effortlessly knocking the wind out of him from the sheer amount of pleasure washing over him. It's almost unfair to be feeling so good, he thinks to himself.

Only stopping thrusts when he realises just how tired his legs are, gently helping you down as he's sure there's an ache in your legs too, having to stand in such an awkward position just for him to fuck you all better. But it was worth it, no? The dumb smile you wear when fixing your outfit out again tells him as such, prompting him to mimic the expression with his own lopsided grin at how sticky and tacky he feels too. He'll have to clean up before preparing the shop, but for now, he tucks his cock back into his boxers before zipping his pants back up.

He's done this all in the wrong order, but as he stares down at you with utmost affection, he can't help but to find you so cute at such an early hour. Settled on asking you out on a date once he's back on the shop floor, feeling a little bashful too in spite of the cum surely dripping down your thighs, he wants to ease the tension first. "Good morning, ma'am." He lovingly strokes your hair, boyish laughter soon following at the way you clear your throat in assumed embarrassment. It's okay, he gets it. "So, how about your usual now?"

"Please, if you wouldn't mind."

And how could he? After all, you've just accepted his load; coffee is the least he could do for you.

#sdv smut #stardew valley smut #sdv sam smut #stardew valley sam smut #sam🛹

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