#but hopefully after the weekend and into next week it will let up?

[carmenized-onions]

Loosen Your Grip. | R & D

logline; even when it seems counter-intuitive.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“...Are you fucking kidding me?!” 

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

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

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

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

Gratitude. Highlight reel?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s snowing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I got it, T, just spot me—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you good?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah? What’s up?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You want the old one?”

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

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

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

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

“I know it didn’t! That’s the point!”

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

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

“...And you want that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So where should I send flowers?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I just— We’ll talk eventually—” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did I account for a thousand dollars?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Microgreens.” Says Syd. 

“Yes. Do less of that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cicero.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I think the chargers are kinda stupid.”

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

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

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

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

“You got somethin’ better?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A lot high.” He corrects.

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

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

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

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

“Does he now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your options are fucked.”

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

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

“What’s the main cost on R and D?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nods, “Good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A short amount of time, angel?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, we probably wouldn’t go, right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She’s in charge of farmer’s market.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Buying is insanely overpriced.” Answers Computer. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dad—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, Adamu?!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“...I’ll do it for eight—”

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

She sighs, “Trying to.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. Con. Same.”

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

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

“No shit I wear underwear!”

“Okay! It’s important to note!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the fuck—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Crime is bad in January.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yessir.”

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

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

“Oh come the fuck on, Jack-Off!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I could do it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sounds fucked.”

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

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

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

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

“Tricks?”

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

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

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

He’s the best? 

He’s the best. 

He’s the best. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’d agree.”

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

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

“Loosen your grip, Carmy.”

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

“Come to dinner with us?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

[oiblackestsheep]

Letters to MBTI: ESFJ

Dear ESFJs,

My opposite! You and I... we don't tend to run in the same social circles, most of the time lmao. But you know what, that's okay! I recognize that just because we aren't incredibly close, doesn't mean I don't see you and appreciate everything you do.

Our cognitive functions appear in reverse order and nothing reminds me of that better than getting to spend time with one of you. You find ways to be pragmatic, punctual, and inclusive of everybody in ways that I can't even manage to do in my dreams.

And when I say inclusive of everybody, usually, that extra effort goes towards making sure that people like me are included and welcomed to the group/community activities, and I really can't express how grateful I am for that. Or rather, usually, I couldn't express that because it's hard to do that verbally when you feel socially awkward, but here, I'm gonna let it rip.

So let's get into it!

I've found myself in enough social situations where I felt a bit like an outcast wallflower (which can earn you points on the internet, but not so much irl lmao), and it's the healthy ESFJ who recognizes this and decides to make the concentrated effort to help break the ice when I'm not quite sure how.

You never run out questions to ask to keep the conversation going and you always find a way to make me (and probably the other introverts) feel like we have a voice and a place at the table in any social setting. Especially when everyone else present knows each other and I'm the new person. This is such an important skill you have and I don't think you hear enough thanks from the people you help, most likely because we don't always know how best to say it.

Not to mention that you are likely the one who organized whatever event is happening, which most people take for granted. It's not easy being the one to accommodate everyone's schedules and coordinate all of the necessary components for social gatherings.

Or business gatherings! It's not all just birthday parties and baby showers with you guys; you've got serious business to get through, and all the while have to remember things like dietary restrictions, seating arrangements, appropriate time slots for all facets of the gathering. You're the one who has planned out the whole day from start to finish, hearding everyone else around, and everyone else has the luxury of going along with all of it without even noticing.

An introverted perceiver like me doesn't know the half of the hard work it takes to make these things happen!

I hope that it is as helpful to you to have me brainstorming new, potential solutions to your technical problems as it is to me when you make sure that everything is going according to plan and everyone gets the chance to comfortably and genuinely participate in all of our collaborative events.

You really do examplify everything I'd like to be better at. Maybe we should hang out more! We may not always have the most in common with our interests, but I think we could learn a lot from each other. Keep doing what you're doing ESFJs. You really are the glue that holds us all together and makes everyone feel safe!

[toastsnaffler]

I mostly just scroll thru blog subs when im on mobile bc I follow too many ppl on here so I add mutuals etc there n then turn off notifs so it's like the creme de la creme of the dash anyway if u see me in ur notes more its bc I forgor to add some of u on there until recently sorry 😭😭

[a-b-riddle]

Part Five

Can't stop thinking about the attempt of reconciliation and reader ain't having it. Our girl is going to be wilddddd y'all. Also goodnight. See y'all tomorrow (maybe)

You call Meredith when you get home.

You. Are. Fuming. She's not sure she can ever remember a time you using so many swear words at one time.

How fucking dare them? Immature? You're the immature one? You were the one trying your best to salvage four failing relationship meanwhile none of those assholes could be bothered to try and keep one. They had one person to manage: you.

"I wanna go out this weekend." "Wear something tight and borderline risk indecent exposure."

"You know what I always say," Meredith begins. "The best way to get over someone-"

"is to get under someone else." You finish. You weren't exactly keen on the idea of bringing someone to your bed just yet, but a little attention would do you some good. "I don't want to fuck someone just yet." You admitted. "I'm more on the getting drunk and making out."

"I didn't know we resorted back secondary school heavy petting?" She teased.

"University, Dear." You corrected. "I didn't peak until after I graduated."

"No." She argued. "You didn't put your books down long enough to realize that boys actually wanted to fuck you." You were glad she couldn't see you roll your eyes. "Saturday work for you? I have a late night Friday and won't be up for it."

"That works."

"Sorry." She apologized. "I plan on getting you absolutely smashed so I need to be ready to play the nanny. I know how you love to get drunk and run off."

It was true. You had always found it hilarious when you were drunk to just run. Quite literally run away. It got to a point during university where Meredith would handcuff you to her so you didn't stray.

"I won't run." Your sober mind promised.

"Uh huh." Meredith's tone told you that she knew that was a load of shit. "I'll text Tabs. Let her know the plan."

The next day at the shop was pretty uneventful. No more unexpected visitors. You still had them all blocked. Not caring if now they decided to offer up some bullshit apology.

Months. This had been a steady decline for six months. A text or a simply sorry won't fix this. You weren't sure anything could.

But it didn't matter. You were done and they obviously were too.

You had picked up enough take out to feed a family, but you didn't plan on making your lunch before work or cooking when you got home. The rest of the week you planned on just going through the motions until you could go out Saturday and hopefully get everything out.

You weren't paying attention as you walked down the hallway to your flat. Fishing in your purse for keys. You were at almost at your door when you saw him.

Sitting next to your door was a familiar face. A face you felt you haven't seen in forever.

“What are you doing here, Kyle?" Your voice was flat as you continued to blindly try and find your keys with one hand. Fuck. You really need to clean out your purse...

“My key wouldn’t work.” He explained. "So I’m out here.”

"I'm aware why you're not in my apartment since I changed the locks," you said, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "What I am asking is why did you come here?"

"You won't return any of our messages."

"You're all blocked, so technically I didn't really get any messages." "Besides, you don't get to complain to me about not responding to texts, Kyle Garrick." Your fingers finally wraps around them. God bless. "If you're here for your things, it'll have to wait. I have to sort through everyone's shit and I don't know whose is whose."

"We need to talk." He explains as you put the key into the lock, opening the door.

"Nah," you say scrunching your nose in that way he used to adore. "I'm good. But you can swing by tomorrow and pick up your things if you'd like." You say before trying to shut the door on him. You were stupid in thinking you could be faster than him.

Dammit.

"I know things haven't been good and I've definitely could have been better,'' he admits. "But can you at least try and let us apologize? Let us try and work it out."

"No." You answered, trying to close the door. Not caring if you had to resort to kicking his shins to get him out.

"Why not?" He countered.

“Maybe because I've already tried, Kyle?” You gave up on trying to shut him out. You were strong, but he didn't have any issues in besting you. “Because I actually tried with you. With all of you. You didn’t need to come here giving me excuses about your life being hectic because I’ve made the excuses for you.” You didn't miss how he practically flinched. He had always blamed his busy life. Family. Work. You stopped caring about whatever excuse he gave you and realized it was just that. An excuse. “I’ve been telling myself for months that everything you guys didn’t do for me wasn’t because you didn’t care about me. It was because of the stress of your deployments is the reason none of you tell me when you get back from until it’s time to fuck. I tell myself it’s because of the fucked up situation of me being with all of you that makes it awkward to meet your families. Families you all have that I now know I’m not worthy of meeting.” He wanted to correct you. You were. You were worthy. He was an idiot. “It’s not that I need your excuses to make me feel like what you did was justified. No matter what it was, it was apparently to you because you did it.”

He took a step back, processing everything you had said. He had been selfish. You were the reliable constant in his life. Someone he believed he never disappointed. Someone he couldn't disappoint no matter how many times he fucked up.

You took the opportunity to slam the door. Quickly turning the lock before he had a chance to open it back up.

God...

That felt good.

You had spent that evening collecting their thing in case Kyle did show back up tomorrow. You wouldn't make their lives easier by sorting all their shit and organizing it. Everything. One box. Let them figure it out. You almost had a mind to add a shirt that you knew didn't belong to any of them just to have them argue over it. Or least make them think there was someone else...

You were almost tempted if not for the premise that you wanted them to realize this was their fault. Their fuck up. But now that you were officially all broken up, you were free game.

[thelostconsultant]

Instant dad - part 1

pairing: Oscar Piastri x ex!reader

summary: You have no choice but to tell Oscar he has a five years old son. Now he wants to be a part of his life to make things complicated...

note: Oscar is in his early 30s, so yeah, there's a time jump.

[pilot]

A bit over a week later Oscar was sitting in his rented car in the school’s parking lot, thinking about how this conversation could go. According to you, they were aware of the fact he had not known Oliver existed until recently, so he hoped they didn’t expect him to talk about what he was like. Sure, over the past week he asked you about him, he wanted to prepare for meeting him, but they hadn’t met in person. How could he know what to say? After taking a deep breath, he got out and went inside, feeling more nervous than he did when he was getting in the car before a race.

If he was this nervous now, what would he feel like before meeting his son? 

Spending years in a boarding school prepared him for this meeting, and the principal was everything he imagined him to be. He was polite, not making a fuss over the fact he was–let’s say–famous. He even apologized for the mess he caused, saying he understood it was probably quite a shock for him, but this was the protocol, and they couldn’t make an exception. Oscar kept nodding, even assuring him it was okay, although deep down he was still confused and unsure of things. 

All of this despite his conversation with his mother, who had been overjoyed when she saw a video of Oliver, saying he was truly just like him, and she couldn’t wait to have the chance to meet her grandchild in person. But she also told him maybe this was the best thing that could happen to him. Having a child is truly an experience, and since he was still five, they had the chance to have a wonderful relationship. “You say he loves F1. Just imagine how happy he would be if he could go to some race weekends with you. You could teach him so much about racing, and you could bond over that,” she said. 

After he parked in front of your house in the afternoon, Oscar went to the trunk to get everything he brought with himself. From signed merch from both himself and Lando–just to be sure–to toy racing cars, he had a wide variety of gifts. Something will hopefully become a favorite, an item that he would keep close to himself. Maybe he went overboard, maybe he could’ve brought only one thing, but he had no idea what Oliver liked, so he couldn’t pick just one item. 

“Please, don’t tell me you brought all this for him.”

He looked up with a questioning hum, only to find you standing next to him on the sidewalk. Seeing you again brought back memories of your time together, of all of your little adventures during the short time you spent together, and he couldn’t help but wonder if you fled because you found out you were pregnant. If you didn’t leave him so suddenly, would things be different now? Would you be a big happy family? 

Clearing his throat, he flashed a sheepish smile at you. “I couldn’t choose,” he admitted as he grabbed the duffel bag and followed you to the front door. He couldn’t help but wonder what he could expect, and he had to ask you the most important thing. “Did you tell him that he was meeting his father today?” You nodded. That was good. “Is he excited?”

You bit on your lower lip as you watched him, clearly thinking about how to answer the question. But after a short break, you let out a sigh. “He’s a little confused, I think. My boyfriend, Alejandro, met him when he was only two, the three of us spent a lot of time together, and he moved in last year. Oliver… He assumed my boyfriend was his dad, which in a way he is, but we had to sit him down and explain the situation to him,” you said, looking sad all of a sudden. 

It was clear now why you were so against telling Oliver the truth. You wanted him to be close to your boyfriend, and you were probably afraid things between them would change once he got into the picture. Maybe you were even afraid things between you and your boyfriend would change too. He couldn’t blame you for that, but now that he knew he had a son, Oscar wanted to be a part of his life. He didn’t want to be some asshole who ignored his own blood. 

Once inside, he put the bag on the floor and followed you to the living room where Oliver was watching some cartoon on TV. Now that he saw him in person, he felt warmth spread through his body, because this kid looked exactly like he did at his age. You cleared your throat next to him to get your son’s attention, and when the kid noticed him, his eyes grew wide from surprise. He got off the couch and slowly walked over to them, his eyes never leaving his face as he tried to process who their guest was. 

“Hello, Oliver,” Oscar said as he crouched down. 

“You’re Oscar Piastri!” he yelled excitedly. 

Oscar couldn’t help but chuckle at this. “I am.”

You reached out to ruffle your son’s hair, then leaned down to be on somewhat eye level with him. “Honey, remember when I said your daddy was going to jump in to see you?” The little boy nodded. “It’s Oscar. He’s your dad,” you told him softly.

Suddenly the excitement was replaced by disbelief, his eyes darting back and forth between the two of you as he tried to process what he’d just been told. The corners of Oscar’s lips curled into a smile as he watched him, waiting patiently for the child’s decision. 

“So he’s my dad?” Oliver asked, earning a nod from you. “Does this mean I’m a Piastri?” It was Oscar’s turn to nod. “Mom, why am I not called Piastri?”

His eyes moved over to you just in time to see you gulp, clearly having trouble figuring out what to say to that. He couldn’t blame you for your confusion, it probably hadn’t occurred to you that one day you would have to respond to this question. With a kind smile, he put a hand on your arm, then turned to his son. “Because I’ve been away for a little too long. But I’m here, your mom and I can discuss if we could change that if you want,” he finished, barely daring to glance up at you, expecting to meet an angry look in your eyes.

But you didn’t look angry, if anything, you seemed relieved that he came to your rescue. There was a glint in your eyes, though, that told him you weren’t happy that Oliver brought up his surname. As he thought about it, it occurred to him that you had mentioned how you considered your boyfriend to be his father in a way, so maybe you would have rather given him his name. 

You placed a soft kiss on your son’s head, then informed him that you would leave the two of them alone so they could get to know each other. Father and son watched you leave the room, then he turned back to the child with a smile. “I brought you some things. Wanna see them?” he asked him, and when the little boy nodded, he went to grab his bag. 

As he opened the zipper, Oliver stood by his side, watching his every move with a happy smile on his face. Oscar pulled out the gifts, one by one, and couldn’t hold back his laugh as he watched his son proudly wearing his new baseball cap and shirt as he examined the toy car in his small hands. He began to talk about the last race, excitedly recounting the most memorable moments, including the end when his father crossed the finish line first. His big brown eyes turned to him, then he said that he was so happy he was here. 

When he wrapped his short arms around him, Oscar did the same and even pressed a kiss on the kid’s head. There was undeniably a certain connection between them that he couldn't explain, but they both knew it was there, otherwise his son probably wouldn't be this chill with the idea of being alone with a stranger. Okay, that and the fact he was his favorite driver.

They sat down in the middle of the living room, and Oliver decided to talk about his favorite books, proudly telling his father that he knew how to read, and that according to you and your boyfriend he was really good at it. “The other kids can barely read yet,” he said with a smug smile, “and I'm already learning math!”

“Do you know how to play chess?” Oscar asked him, but the boy only shook his head. “I should teach you. I started when I was younger than you, and my mom refused to play with me after a while.”

“Because you were so good?” 

With a shrug, he stretched his arms above his head. “I don't know, but I guess I was better than her. Not sure about other people, though,” he admitted with a warm smile.

Oliver let out a thoughtful hum. “Is she as awesome as my mom?” he suddenly asked, looking back at him. 

A laugh escaped him at the thought, which made his son tilt his head to the side in question. “That depends on who you ask. She loves to embarrass me online, which isn't always a good thing, but I love her, she's the best mum I could ask for. And there are a lot of people, especially my fans, who absolutely adore her for this gentle bullying,” he added with a laugh.

“My mom would never do that,” Oliver stated, his little nose scrunching at the thought. “She loves me too much.”

The two of them spent the next hour or so talking, sometimes stopping when the little boy got distracted by something he caught on TV. But he seemed interested, he wanted to learn as much as he could, and it was true the other way around, because Oscar asked a lot of questions too. He hadn’t even noticed how much time had passed until you walked in to tell your son it was time for dinner, a statement that came with the question whether or not his dad was allowed to stay. 

You didn’t let him stay, saying he was probably tired from traveling so much, then gave him a begging look to make him speak up too. Oscar let out a sigh and forced a smile on his face. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll be back tomorrow. I’m staying for a few days and your mum let me come to see you every day,” he said happily. “In fact, I’ll be looking out for you tomorrow while she’s at work. How does that sound?”

Oliver squealed from happiness before he hugged you both, thanking you over and over again for letting him come over. “Can we go to the zoo?” he asked with bright eyes as he looked over at his father. 

“Sure, whatever you want,” Oscar responded with a nod. 

“Okay, time to wash your hands, Alejandro will be home soon, so we can start to eat,” you asked your son. Once he said goodbye to Oscar and disappeared, you turned to him with a forced smile. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

With a sigh, he stepped closer to you. “You were right, he’s a lot like me,” he began quietly, then stopped to consider what to say. He knew deep down that you wanted him to stay away, you didn’t want him to ruin the balance of your little family, but how could he give you that after getting to know his son? Oliver was his blood, he was truly a mini version of him, there was no way he would turn his back on him now. 

You knew. After all these years, despite your time together being so short, you still knew him well enough to know what was going on in his head. “Just don’t break his heart, okay?” you asked, earning a nod from him. “Thanks for… everything. Tomorrow, then?”

“Tomorrow. Have a good night.”

tagged: @hc-dutch @nxlx96 @taliya8346282844eliviahdgdajs @laanswife @chunkpiboli @pakotrzl @1800-love-me

important: the taglist is closed. in fact, this might be the first and last time i'm doing this, because leaving someone out accidentally stresses me. sorry.

Anyway, what do you think? Should I continue?

[navybrat817]

Pencil You In

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky thinks you've been working too hard and need a break. Word Count: Over 1.3k Warnings: Fluff, crying, reader is tired, slight insecurities, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Partially inspired by an image the beautiful @bucksangel sent me and life stretching me a bit thin, here's a little ficlet. Lovelies, take breaks. You deserve them and you are more than enough! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You slumped in your chair of your home office as you reread the sentence on the screen for what felt like the hundredth time. Weariness had already settled deep in your bones long before you looked over the document, the words blurring together the longer you stared. Blinking a few times didn’t help as you reached for your mug, only to remember that you had finished your extra helping of caffeine an hour ago. Begrudgingly, you set it down and huffed as if it was somehow the fault of the cup that it didn’t automatically fill itself.

“Almost done,” you whispered to yourself, straightening up so you could do one last readthrough.

It was a long week in what felt like a series of long weeks. Almost every minute of your schedule was accounted for lately and all you wanted to do was relax. People were depending on you though and you could relax over the weekend.

Hopefully.

“You should take a break.”

You didn’t turn around immediately at the sound of Bucky’s gentle voice, but you did manage a smile when you glanced over your shoulder a moment later. He didn’t return the smile, concern swirling in his blue irises. You were afraid to stare into the pool of his eyes for too long out of fear of drowning.

And, god, you were drowning. It would be so easy to reach out and take the lifeline that was his hand. To just admit that you need some time to rest because you were tired. Hadn’t you earned it? Didn’t you deserve a break after the hard work you put in?

But maybe you didn’t deserve it. What you did wasn’t as important as someone like Bucky. You firmly shut the door on that thought before the words could make their way out of your mouth. If he could’ve read your mind and known you thought that, it would’ve disappointed him. Not in you, but whoever made you decide that what you did wasn’t enough.

Because you were always expected to do and be more.

“I will in a few minutes,” you said.

He let out a heavy sigh as he crossed his arms, making you tear your gaze away. You didn’t comment on his disheveled hair, like he kept running a hand through it. Likely because he worried about you stretching yourself too thin. “That was what you said a few minutes ago,” he reminded you, his voice light instead of accusatory.

You shut your eyes in the hopes that the tears wouldn’t come and took a breath. “I really will this time,” you promised, giving the document one last readthrough once you got your emotions under control.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he said.

If you wouldn’t take a break for your own sake, you had to do it for Bucky.

“Okay. I think that’s at a good stopping point,” you said, making you saved it before you closed it out. If you lost all of that after everything you put into it so far, you would’ve lost it. Before you could move to the next task on your list though, an alert popped up on your screen. Your heart dropped to your stomach because you didn’t remember scheduling anything else today. You didn’t have the mental or emotional capacity for more. “What is this?” You mumbled before you opened it.

Reading the subject line, you did a double take.

CUDDLE WITH BUCKY

You covered your mouth to smother your giggles. “I don’t remember scheduling this meeting.”

“It’s a good thing I remembered, baby,” he said as you spun around in your chair, sauntering over to you with a smirk as you tried not to laugh again. “It’s a mandatory meeting in our bed. No rescheduling. And I expect it to go the full hour. Maybe longer.”

“How did you manage to set up an alert on my computer?” You asked as he grasped your hands and helped you to your feet, having to steady yourself a bit when your head spun.

At least you remembered to eat. Well, that wasn’t technically true. Bucky brought you your meal earlier because he was the best boyfriend you could ask for.

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” he winked before he brought a palm to your cheek, his gaze shifting to something more serious. “But it seemed to get your attention.”

Your cheeks burned as you averted your gaze. “I wasn’t…” you trailed off, an apology on the tip of your tongue. Had you neglected him this past week? Or the ones before that?

Did he think you were a bad girlfriend?

Bucky slid his hand to your chin so you’d look at him again. “Hey,” he whispered when your lower lip trembled. “I didn’t mean anything by that and I’m not upset with you. I don’t think I could ever be upset with you. But, baby, you’ve been working your ass off even more than usual. I’m so fucking proud of you, but you need to take a real break.”

Your eyes burned, but no tears surfaced as he searched your gaze. “But-”

“What is it you always tell me about work?”

“That it’ll be there tomorrow, but we may not be” you answered, sighing. He was right. You couldn’t let work and expectations others set for you take control of your life. “I told you that the last time you ran yourself ragged with missions.”

He brought his mouth to your forehead to kiss it, his scruff tickling your skin. “And now I’m returning the favor,” he said against your skin. “So, come to bed. Lay with me. Just…”

“Be present,” you finished.

No phones. No work. No outside forces interfering. Just the pleasure of being with each other.

“Exactly,” he said, tugging you by the hand. “C’mon. We’re both late for our meeting.”

“Yes, Sir,” you teased, smiling when he groaned.

“This is a cuddle meeting, but it’ll turn into gently fucking you to sleep if you keep talking like that,” he warned you, pulling you to bed a bit faster.

“You say that like that’s a bad thing,” you smiled, gasping as he gently pushed you onto the mattress.

He braced a hand on each side of your head as he leaned down, his breath fanning your face when you whimpered. “Sex after we cuddle,” he breathed, sending a shiver down your spine. “Then we can cuddle again.”

You leaned up to brush your lips against his. “Deal,” you agreed.

Once he maneuvered you to the middle of the bed, his large body spooning yours, you couldn’t stop the tears that came. You bit your lip so he wouldn’t hear your soft sobs, but he must’ve sensed them as he grazed his nose along your neck affectionately and pulled you closer in his arms. You didn’t realize just how much you needed to be held until then.

It was as if all the stress faded away.

“I really am proud of you. Hardest working woman I know and always taking care of me,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your pulse as more tears hit the pillow.

“Because I love you, Bucky,” you whispered. Who wouldn’t want to take care of someone as amazing as James Buchanan Barnes?

“And I love you, too. So much,” he swore to you, turning you in his arms so he could kiss the tears away. The first kiss lingered on your cheek as he let out a shuddering breath. The sight of you crying likely broke his heart, but he didn’t say anything about it for your sake. “So let me be your personal hero today, okay? Let me take care of you and show that you’re more than enough.”

The words were so heartfelt and touching that you were surprised you didn’t melt on the spot. “You already are,” you promised before his lips met yours.

And he could pencil himself in for cuddles and more whenever he wanted.

I'll say it again, lovelies, you deserve breaks and you are more than enough. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[vettelsbees]

sugar, spice, and all things nice

max verstappen x baker!reader

fic type: social media au

summary: max is dating a chef/baker and she basically finds out that people hate max and is genuinely shocked

note: i've decided i'm going to learn how to do smau's!! it has been a learning process so far, but hopefully, I start getting better!! this is my first one so if something is weird i am sorry! any constructive feedback is welcome

---

tagged: maxverstappen1

@//yourusername: what i've been up to this week: breakfast foods!!

-@//bakingbyy/n: looks delicious!!

-@//lastlaplando: best wag

-@//maxverstappen1: ❤️❤️❤️

---@//littlelionmax: standard max response

-@//cookingisdelicious: I would kill for this cinnamon roll recipe

@//yourusername posted on their story!

caption: max is a little sleepy after our flight

caption: operation bribe red bull racing to love me is a go!!

@//yourusername posted on their story!

caption: someone is happy to head home!

tagged: @//maxverstappen1

tagged: @//maxverstappen1

@//yourusername: weekend recap with my champ. love you, max!

-@//breadbyy/n: where's our baking mother

-@//championoftheworld: win 80 for max...again

---@//lolalovesf1: he's making the sport boring

-@//roscoandalbonpetsstan: tell him to let someone else win

---@//yourusername: I think he's happy where he is!

-@//berriesandcream: im so sick of his stupid anthem

-@//georgieferrari: i would rather any other team win even freaking haas

@//yourusername posted on their story!

caption: enjoying our week off!!

tagged: @//maxverstappen1

@//yourusername: date nights with max. endlessly happy

-@//purplebulls: he seems like he cant cook

-@//mercedesfan8: happy until he does mad max on your ass

-@//maxverstappen1: ❤️❤️❤️

---@//youngcharles: let someone else win, dick

-@//estelleandf1: he's so smiley around y/n!!

---@//loganraaaamerica: i'd smile if he wasn't winning all the time

---@//theredcar: maybe he'll burn himself and be out for the next gp

@//yourusername: this is your villain. grow up.

comments have been disabled.

[f1goat]

regret + lando norris (one shot)

In which Lando breaks up with you, but starts to regret it even more when he sees you back on the racetrack. Can he still fix things?

lando norris x fem!y/n tw: small mentions of a panic attack & not proof read requested: yes

masterlist - playlist

“Y/N?”

This is exactly something you hoped that wouldn’t happen this weekend. Since your breakup with Lando, you haven’t seen him anymore. You also didn’t went to any races anymore. Until today. During your relationship with Lando you spent a lot of time on the different race tracks. You were with him almost every race. That resulted into getting to know a lot of the drivers personally, you quickly became great friends with Alex and his girlfriend Lily, but also with others like Daniel, Oscar, Max, Charles and Carlos. It took them a while before they could convince you, but they are exactly why you’re here right now.

And that makes them also the reason behind your unwanted meet up with Lando himself. 

“Hey,” you say with a soft tone. What if Lando will get mad that you’re here? Fuck. The first free practice didn’t even start yet and you already ran into Lando. Where are your friends when you need them? Now that you think about it, weren’t you walking here with Daniel? Where has he gone off to?

“What are you doing here?” Lando asks you confused. He doesn’t mind you being here, at least he thinks so now, but he wonders how you have gotten here. Normally he was the one who took you with him to a Grand Prix. He’s quick to wonder if someone else on the grid is dating you and took you here with him.

“Uh, a few friends invited me,” you explain, “I hope you don’t mind.”

“No!” Lando is quick to reply, “uh no of course not, you’re free to come here,” he adds awkwardly.

“Great,” you say even more awkward then Lando’s earlier words.

“Who uh invited you?” Lando continues to ask.

“Uh you know that one group text right? With the boys we always did the most things with?” You ask Lando. He nods. “It comes from them. So uh Alex, Max, Charles, Carlos, Daniel and Oscar,” you tell him.

“Oh uh nice,” Lando replies.

Before Lando or you can make another awkward statement, Daniel is already reappearing next to you. You’re thankful that he has showed up again. Hopefully he will save you from this awkward conversation. Of course you knew you would see Lando somewhere this weekend, but you didn’t expect it to happen on the first hour you were around. 

There isn’t any bad blood between Lando and you. At least you think so. Lando broke things off a couple weeks ago after the two of you almost dated for a year. He didn’t gave a great reason, he just told you he needed to regain his focus on racing and that he couldn’t manage that with you around. At first you didn’t understand, but later you heard from mutual friends that things were a bit different. It seems like Zak had a bit more influence in Lando his decision then you thought at first. But still, Lando chose this himself. 

You can safely say that you miss Lando and everything you two had together. Even now when you see him again, it pains you that you can’t hug or kiss him. While Daniel makes conversation with Lando, you focus yourself on him as well. You take a good look at him. Lando doesn’t look good. His face seems white and his eyes are puffy. He seems tired. You almost ask him how he’s feeling, but Daniel is quick to walk away with you from Lando.

“Let him feel bad,” Daniel tells you, “remember this is his own fault. He chose to broke up.”

You sigh. “I know Dan,” you reply, “but you can’t blame me for caring about him. He looks bad.”

“He should.”

Lando can’t shake off his negative thoughts when he sees Daniel walking away with you. He keeps wondering about what Daniel is doing here with you. Is it possible that you already forgot about him and moved on with someone else? Someone like Daniel maybe? Lando didn’t want to break things off with you, but he felt like he had no choice. 

Now he knew that he should have talked about it with you, but it’s already too late. His friends have told him about his mistake and how he should have handled things. But it’s still too late. He can’t change what he did anymore. He can only life with the consequences. 

It wasn’t his own idea to break up with you. Zak came to him after the race in Qatar. The weekend was already shitty, but after talking with Zak it became even worse. You weren’t there that weekend. You had a birthday that you couldn’t miss and Lando had lied to you that he would be fine without you for a weekend when you told him you could fly in later. His whole weekend was about you. He couldn’t stop thinking about you and how much he missed you that weekend. He almost bought plane tickets so you could still come.

Then there was the qualifications in which he lost his fastest lap to track limits.

Then there was the sprint race, where his rookie teammate was better then him.

Then there was the actual race, where he wasn’t allowed to overtake his rookie teammate.

He doesn’t blame Oscar, but he does blame himself. The weekend was bad. You weren’t there to talk to about everything. Of course you texted and called him, but every time you asked how he was he lied and told you that he was fine. 

Then Zak came to him after the race. He didn’t say much, only that Lando should think about his priorities if he ever wanted to win a race. That was the last drop for him. Instead of getting mad at Zak for even suggesting something that ridiculous, he became mad at himself. Zak was right. He wasn’t focused lately. He only thought about you. This weekend was the perfect example. Without even giving it a second thought he called you on FaceTime. He broke up with you without giving you an explanation. 

He’s a dick.

And now you’re here with his friends. He told a few of them what really happened. They told him they would try to help him to fix things. But now he only thinks that they were lying. It seems like they have chosen your side. Something he can’t blame them for.

Fuuuuuck. He hates himself.

And he misses you.

In the mean time Daniel brought you back to Lily. It’s time for the boy to get into their cars and start the first practice. Together with Lily you spend some time at the Williams motorhome. You can’t help yourself and start to inform Lily about your encounter with Lando. 

“Is it bad that I still want him back?” You ask Lily softly. You almost feel ashamed for your question. What’s wrong with you to want someone back who broke up with you over FaceTime? 

“No,” Lily is quick to reply with a firm answer, “and to be honest with you, I get it.”

“You get it?”

“Girl, you were so happy with him,” Lily sighs, “of course I get it. I don’t know if it’s right, but I really get it. If you can keep a secret, I can tell you exactly why I get it.”

“Of course,” you quickly react. You’re already glad that Lily gets the way your feeling. Earlier today you tried to tell Daniel, but he didn’t get it. 

“Alex and I had a similar experience,” Lily confesses, “When he was still with RedBull a similar thing happened to us. Alex had a massive fall out that he wasn’t focused enough and that is was because of me, that he was going to lose his seat if he didn’t fix it. We took a break then.”

“How did you fix that?”

“His focus became worse,” Lily laughs, “after five weeks he came crawling back. It pained me, don’t get me wrong, but I have had similar conversations with some coaches. So I knew what he was hearing and how bad the timing was, so I forgave him. We’re stronger since that break then ever before.”

“Do you think there’s hope for Lando and me?” You ask Lily hopefully.

“If you can forgive him then there is,” Lily answers directly. 

“What if he doesn’t come back?”

“Believe me girl, he is already a mess,” Lily laughs, “Maybe he just needs a final push, but he won’t last long anymore. Look at his results from the last week, he’s even more unfocused since the break up.”

“Final push?” You ask a bit confused.

“Lando is a bit more unsure then Alex, you know? I think he needs a final push to make him snap and confess. Otherwise he won’t stop sulking. But don’t worry about that, I’ll take care of that push.”

“Thanks Lily.”

+++

You don’t know if Lily has already thought of something, but you notice that Lando is surprisingly close to you during the weekend. It seems like he’s always around. He isn’t speaking to you, but you feel his eyes on you everywhere you go. 

It’s already Saturday, the weekend is going by fast. It’s almost time for qualifications. You’re walking with Daniel. You have spend a lot of time with him the last days. He can easily distract you from your thoughts about Lando. He’s fun to be around, mainly because he’s always joking. But still, he’s not Lando. Fuck. 

It doesn’t surprise you when you notice Lando again. This time he’s walking towards Daniel and you. You wonder if he’s going to say something. It seems like he’s getting ready to say something to Daniel, you or the both of you.

“Can I talk to you Daniel?” Lando asks when he’s standing in front of you. Daniel nods and walks away from you with Lando. He quickly says that Lily is already waiting for you at the Williams garage to watch the session together. You wish him good luck and turn around as well. 

Lando doesn’t know where to start when Daniel is standing in front of him. He wants to say many things and ask even more things. 

“What is it Lando?” Daniel asks him a bit annoyed. It’s clear that he took your side, it’s written all over his face. Lando gets it. Of course he does.

“Are you seeing Y/N?” He asks at first.

“Seeing Y/N?” Daniel asks confused.

“Yeah, are you dating her on something?” Lando asks further.

Daniel laughs loudly. “You’re joking right?”

“No? You’re spending a lot of time with her,” Lando continues.

“And so what Lando? You broke up with her,” Daniel says mad, “On fucking FaceTime. You don’t have the right to ask every boy around her about his intentions with her. She isn’t yours anymore!”

“Fuck, sorry,” Lando mutters before he quickly walks away from Daniel.

He’s glad when he’s sitting in his car a couple minutes later. This should help him to focus on something else then you. Right? But even when he’s driving as fast as he can manage, he can’t stop thinking about you. He only thinks about you. He can’t focus on where to brake or when to increase or decrease his speed. 

It doesn’t even surprise him when his board radio tells him he wasn’t fast enough for the next session. He’s out. 

Fuck.

“I told you, he isn’t more focused,” Lily states while watching the session on the big screen. Together you watch and hear Lando his disappointed reaction to hearing he’s out. You feel bad for him. 

“Should I go to him?” You ask Lily.

“I don’t know,” Lily answers honestly, “I get it that you want to, but maybe he needs to get a bit more frustrated with his choice.”

“But he’s probably really mad at himself now,” you say, “and he must be so disappointed. What if Zak tells him more bad things?” 

“I understand you, I just don’t know if it’s smart. If I were you, I would wait until tomorrow. Let him be mad at himself for a bit, it won’t hurt him.”

+++

“You need to help me,” Lando states, “All of you.”

In front of him are Daniel, Max and Oscar. He found them and brought them all together. After his qualification session he realized that he really needs you back. He already knew that after the horrible words left his mouth during that awful FaceTime call, but now he needs to take action. This can’t last longer. He can’t last any longer without you.

“I want Y/N back,” Lando confesses, “It was a fucking mistake and I hate myself for it. How can I deserve another shot with her?”

Daniel laughs. Max and Oscar don’t know what to say.

“That’s rich,” Daniel laughs, “You think you still deserve her after this?”

“Daniel,” Max warns his friend, “Don’t be too hard on him.”

“What? It’s true, he did it himself,” Daniel continues, “If he thought about it, he would have known directly that it was stupid.”

Lando sighs. “I know,” he says, “and I really regret everything I did. But I need to know if I have a chance to win her back.”

“I don’t know if you deserve it,” Daniel replies, “but I’ll try to help. But only because she’s pretty miserable as well.”

Max and Oscar both nod as well showing their agreement with Daniel. Lando lets out a relieved sigh. He knows they mean it well and he’s even glad with the honesty of his friends. He deserves this. 

“To be fair mate, I think you just need to talk to her and explain everything,” Max suggests. 

“Yeah and apologize a lot of course,” Oscar adds.

“I’ll ask her if she wants to talk to you,” Daniel says eventually, “I’ll text you her answer, then you can do the rest.”

“Thanks guys,” Lando says, “Thank you so much.”

+++

Daniel: She is up for it. Ask her to talk with you after the race.

Daniel: And don’t let the outcome of the rest influence you!

Lando: thank you so much

Lando is nervous when he sits in his car. It’s not the race he’s nervous about, he knows it’s already a lost cause. He won’t score any points from his starting position, he’s starting eighteenth for fucks sake. And even if his strategy is good, he’s way too unfocused for the race. He won’t manage anything successful before talking to you. He can only think about all the things he needs to say to you.

How can he find the right words to excuse to you? He has to make so many apologies, he doesn’t even know where to start. He sees the start sign and tries to focus on the race again. He drives away from his spot as fast as he can manage. In the mean time he focusses on the cars around him. 

He overtakes the first car in front of him. Even if he says it himself, it was a nice move. He starts to feel a bit more confident. 

“Good move,” his board radio tells him, “Let’s try to get some points.”

Lando focusses on the next car in front of him. He tries to remember which Williams qualified as worst from the two. He guesses it’s Sergeant. As fast as his car can manage he drives towards the Williams car. He positions himself and makes himself ready to overtake him as well. At first he tries to overtake him on the outside. He misses a bit of speed. The next DRS zone he tries again, this time he’s on the inside.

Right when he’s sure that he’s past the Williams, he feels himself losing the control of his car. Before he knows it he’s spinning off the track. Fucking hell. 

Only minutes later he’s walking back towards his motorhome. That was a shitty race. He sighs. When he’s back at his motorhome he’s surprised to notice that you’re standing in front of it. He must be hallucinating, right? Maybe he hit his head harder then he thought. 

“Lan,” you quickly say when he’s standing in front of you, “Are you okay?” 

“What are you doing here?” Lando asks confused.

“I’m worried about you!” You exclaim, “It looked scary when you went off the track like that.”

“You’re worried about me?” Lando asks even more confused, “Why?”

“You can break up with me, but you can’t expect me to lose all my feelings for you,” you say bitterly.

“You still have feelings for me?” Lando asks you.

“It hasn’t been that long since the breakup,” you tell Lando, “Of course I still have feelings for you Lan. Or did you already lose all your feelings for me?” You feel yourself getting nervous after your last question. Fuck. What if he already feels nothing for you anymore?

“No of course not,” Lando quickly says, “I haven’t lost even a tiny bit of them.”

“You wanted to talk to me said Daniel,” you continue, “Maybe we can talk now?”

“Yes, yes,” Lando replies, “Let’s go to my drivers room.”

Together you walk into the motorhome. A couple mechanics say they’re sorry for Lando and his lost race when you’re walking past them. They greet you as well. One of them even says he’s glad to see you again. You smile at him. You’ve missed this place. Normally you would watch every race here.

“Wait Lando, it’s time for debrief,” you hear someone say, when you look around you notice Zak. You start to feel nervous. You always thought Zak was alright with you. It wasn’t like you were best friends, but you were friendly with each other. Now you think he really dislikes you. If you understand it right, he’s the one who told Lando to break up with you. 

“I don’t have time,” Lando simply states.

“It’s fine Lan, we can talk later,” you quickly interrupt, “You can do your debrief first. I’ll wait.”

“You heard the lady Lando, let’s go,” Zak says.

“No!” Lando almost screams the simple word, “Debrief without me. I don’t have time today. If you didn’t notice it already Zak, I have something more important to do.”

“Real race winner mentality you have here Lando,” Zak mutters annoyed. 

“Fuck off,” Lando sneers. He takes your hand into his own and drags you with him towards his drivers room. You’re thankful when you’re standing inside it. Lando drops your hand and starts to walk around in the tiny space. He seems nervous. 

“What did you want to talk about?” You ask Lando after a while of silence.

“Us,” Lando replies, “but I don’t know where to start.”

You notice the short breaths Lando takes. It reminds you of something. You remember what happened after the first race of this season. Lando had a massive panic attack. The bad team result made him stressed out for the rest of the season. The short breaths were one of the first signs back then. What if this means he will have another panic attack?

With small steps you walk closer to Lando. “Calm down,” you tell him, “let’s sit down together. We can figure it out where to start with this conversation. I’m stressed as well about it.”

Lando nods. He follows you towards the couch. Together you sit down. You move your hand onto his back, slowly you try to comfort him. Lando is still taking short breaths. 

“What.. what if,” Lando stutters, “What if uh, I uh.”

“Talk slowly baby,” you softly interrupt him. 

“What if I can’t fix this?” Lando speaks in one breath. “Fuck, what if I can’t show you that I’m really sorry?” He starts to speak even faster, “What if I lose you for good? Or what if you hate me?” 

“Relax baby,” you say, “I don’t hate you.”

“You should.”

“Lando, please relax before you will stress yourself into a panic attack,” you tell him.

“I can’t lose you,” Lando says. 

“You’re not going to lose me,” you harshly state, “If you were I wouldn’t be here right now. I want to fix things as well Lando.”

That makes him silent for a bit. You notice the tears rolling down onto his face. Softly you sigh. You pull Lando onto yourself. He quickly changes his position and lets his head lay down on your lap. You caress his hair. Lando lets out a soft sob. It pains you to see him like this. How can you fix this?

“I still love you,” you tell Lando.

Lando sobs even louder.

“And I heard from the guys what happened with Zak,” you continue to speak, “We can fix this Lando, it wasn’t only your fault. Lily told me that something similar happened to her and Alex as well and it only made their relationship stronger. We can learn from this as well.”

“You ssst. You still want me?” Lando asks you while sobbing.

“Yes,” you reply firmly, “I always want you Lando.”

You feel how Lando his tense body starts to relax a bit more. You continue to tell him about how everything will be alright between the two of you. That you will forgive him for this and that you still love him. You even tell him things about the future you’re imagining with him.

“You won’t get rid of me this easily,” you eventually say. 

“I love you,” Lando says a lot more relaxed then before. He sits up straight again and looks at you. “I love you too,” you tell him. Lando presses his lips against yours. You taste the saltiness of his tears on his lips, but you don’t focus on that thought. You can only think about how much you missed this.

Of course, there are still plenty things to talk about but Lando and you will manage. The two of you will fix this. Things will be alright again.

[miguelhugger2099]

Not a Fanboy!Miguel who often liked the classics he grew up with—the ones his mom played every weekend.

Not a Fanboy!Miguel who liked the singers, men and women alike, who now were as old—if not, older—as his mom so he never got around to be going to concerts.

Not a Fanboy!Miguel that never kept up with recent celebrity drama or news. Oh, some current singer just won 6 Grammys? Good for her. Oh, this rapper held the top spot on the charts for weeks? Nice.

Not a Fanboy!Miguel who lives under a rock. But his brother doesn’t.

Fanboy!Gabriel who’s always been into music as his hobby. Ranging from in the States to Overseas. Old and new alike.

Fanboy!Gabriel who BEGS Miguel to take him to this concert of this girl group that came around.

Not a Fanboy!Miguel who’d rather die than drive and park around Nueva York for ONLY three hours.

Fanboy!Gabriel who makes a compromise that Miguel could come too! Even walk around Nueva York for some food.

Not a Fanboy!Miguel who can’t say no to his baby brother.

Not a Fanboy!Miguel who is absolutely exhausted after walking around the arena, Gabriel greeting and handing out freebies to other fans like him.

Not a Fanboy!Miguel who ends up at a coffee shop where Gabriel shoo’d him away to. Telling him to grab two cold drinks while he waits in line.

Not a Fanboy!Miguel who groans internally when he sees the line. Someone behind him groaning outwardly.

He turns his head to see some woman—you—, hat on top of your head and hoodie draped around you. Pieces of your hair fall on the side of your cheeks that frame your face. A mask covering the lower half of your face and you’re in sweats. Your eyes meet his.

For a moment you look panicked but you stay still.

Miguel looks back at the register, some old man being extra specific with his drink and food order. He then glances down at you again.

“Hopefully the next ones won’t be as stingy with what they want.” He comments. He notices the eye bags under your eyes.

He can tells you smiles by the ways your eyes creased. “Yeah. Hopefully.”

By the time it was his turn, he looks over his shoulder. “What did you want?”

You’re taken aback. “Oh, uh—“

“I’ll pay for it.” Miguel figures you’ve had a long day and felt that he could help.

He flusters you, your hands bringing down your mask to relay your order to the nice cashier girl. Miguel glances down your lips subconsciously, noticing the gloss over them.

It’s only for a few seconds and you pull it over your face again as quickly as possible. Miguel looks around the place. You were acting strange—was someone following you? Were you okay?

He waits beside you at the side of the counter and he bends down at your level. “Are you okay?”

You let out a gasp of surprise, jumping a bit back but smile and laugh nervously. “Ah, fine. Thanks for asking.”

“You sure? Is someone stalking you?”

You look at his eyes, scanning his face for something he’s not quite sure you’ll find. Miguel visibly sees you relax.

“No, no. I’m just on a tight schedule, is all.” You laugh more real this time.

Miguel stands up again. “I know the feeling.” The corner of his lips turn up.

His drinks gets called out first and he takes them both in his hands, taking a sip from one of them.

“You ordered…two?” You ask. Miguel nods.

“For my brother. We’re here for some concert thing he wanted to go to.” He shrugs. You hold your giggle back.

“I take it you’re not interested?” You ask with amusement. Miguel snorts.

“Hardly.” He takes another sip from his cup. “Hopefully I never have to walk around Nueva York again just for some girl group.”

You shrug. “Hopefully.” You agree with him, a smile heard just by your tone.

The conversation is cut short once your drink is called. Miguel finding the way you hum in delight to be amusing. You thank him for the drink, offering once more to pay for it back but he refuses.

Miguel doesn’t notice your manager approaching you, fussing over you and ushering you back into your van.

Not a Fanboy!Miguel who enters the arena with his brother. Gabriel had done every hack possible to make sure he got seats close enough.

Not a Fanboy!Miguel who sits with his arms crossed, yawning and leaning his head back to sleep.

But he couldn’t do that when Gabriel shakes him awake. It’s starting!

The giant screens zoom in on each of the members faces and Miguel nearly falls out of his seat when you show up last.

He notices your eyebags are gone. Completely disappeared with makeup. Glittering eyes with a cute puppy eyeliner and false eyelashes. Your hair in a style that stays still even while dancing. The same glossy lips that sing angelically.

Fanboy!Miguel who grips his seat, feelings his heart flutter when you wink at the camera, blowing kisses to the fans in his general direction.

[peachsukii]

Operation: Shut Down

『♡』  fem!reader x bakugo ╰➤ ꒰ Senior year of UA | Characters are all 18 ꒱ ♡ katsuki bakugo masterlist ♡ summary: during their senior year of UA, midoriya, bakugo and todoroki return to endeavor's agency for senior internships. while on a supervised patrol, bakugo experiences his first 'failure' as a hero-in-training and takes it extremely hard. reader makes an attempt to care for his fragile state when he returns to the dorms. tags & warnings:  failed mission, ptsd/trauma, mentions of blood/gore/violence, depression & anxiety, mild angst, emotional comfort, semi-fluff, bakugo and midoriya hug!? a/n: similar to the "tidal wave" story, but this one is a bit grittier and heavier subject matter. hopefully this also isn't too OOC for bakugo! i figure at some point during their time at UA, or in the field, they’ll have to go through something similar to this on their own. ꒰ Ao3 version | word count; 2,671 ꒱

Ahh, Saturday mornings - one of your favorite times of the week! There's something refreshing about being free from classes, surrounded by all your friends as you laze around the dorms. Yourself and Bakugo are usually the first two awake, often bumping into each other in the kitchen for breakfast. Midoriya and Kirishima are typically next, followed by a random assortment of the rest of the class. One thing's for certain, though, Kaminari is always the last one awake. Jiro swears it annoys the shit out of her that she needs to have an extra alarm to get him up, but he never fails to make her smile when she does.

Today, the dorms are on the quieter side as most of the class are off at their senior internships for a long weekend. You completed yours a few weeks prior, leaving yourself and Kirishima, Kaminari, Ashido and Yaoyorozu hanging around this weekend. Meandering toward the kitchen to grab a bowl of cereal, you run into Midoriya, sitting at the small table - alone.

"Hey! I thought you guys were gone 'til Monday?" you ask, confused as to why he's back early. As you approach the table, you see the somber emotion painted across his face, the usual radiance in his eyes dulled.

"Oh, hey y/n. Yeah, we got back late last night."

There's something unsettling about the way he said "late last night." He still hasn't looked up at you. You place a hand on his shoulder to grab his attention.

"Everything okay?" He jumps a bit at your touch, startling you. He's not typically this jumpy. "You look like you've seen a ghost, Zu."

You can see he swallows nervously, his eyes glued to the table.

"Christ, Izuku! You're scaring me, spit it out already!" you urge, growing impatient with his evasiveness.

Midoriya finally turns to face you, his face not able to hide the fact he didn't sleep last night, the darkness growing under his eyes.

"It's Kacchan...," he starts, stopping for longer than you were comfortable with before continuing quietly. "He's in his room and hasn't come out since last night. He won't talk to me or Shouto."

Your stomach cartwheels with a sour feeling.

"You can't just say that and not give me more background on what the hell you're talking about."

He shifted uncomfortably in the diner chair, placing his head in his hands on the table.

"We were on a supervised patrol with Endeavor after dinner last night. The three of us were responsible for escorting a family across the city when Endeavor received an emergency call, taking Kacchan with him and leaving myself and Shouto responsible for the original task."

Midoriya paused, letting out a soft exhale.

"While on the emergency call, Endeavor ended up getting hurt -," he puts his hands up, waving them as he quickly interrupts himself to say he's fine before putting his head back down. "- due to a fall. Supposedly, the villain they were pursuing took advantage of that as a distraction. Kacchan was able to subdue him..."

Again with the damn pauses.

"...but?" You try not to sound too annoyed, but can't help it. You loved Izuku dearly, but he really needed to learn to get to the damn point.

"...but the civilian he captured wasn't so lucky."

What the hell does that mean?

Something in your gut tells you to sit down for whatever it is he's going to say next. You take the seat next to him, placing a hand on his thigh for reassurance.

"You...don't have to say anything if you don't want to, Zu," your tone shifting from your previous annoyance to concern.

He puts a hand on top of yours and gives it a squeeze. "T-thanks, but it's okay. Maybe you could try to talk with him? I had Kirishima try, too with no luck."

"Okay, sure. Do you wanna tell me what happened, then?"

You're not really sure if you should know, at this point. If Bakugo's locked himself in his room and refuses to speak to anyone? Some serious shit must have happened. He's not one to completely shutdown and isolate himself, let alone from Midoriya and Kirishima.

"The...civilian didn't make it. The villain planted a bomb inside of the civilian as, uh...a backup plan, I guess. It went off as Kacchan was escorting them to the ambulance for evaluation."

Your stomach stirs a second time, afraid to confirm what you think happened. "...so, you're telling me he saw someone...explode?"

He hesitates. "Y-yeah. Endeavor told us he went into shock, which isn't like him at all but completely normal, all things considered. He went non-verbal until we got back last night. He didn't even yell, told us he was going to bed, walked off and slammed the door."

"Fucking hell...do you know if he at least got some sleep on the drive back?"

"Funny enough, yeah. He fell asleep on my shoulder." He smiles faintly, trying to look at the positive in this situation. You can't help but smile, too, imagining Bakugo passed out on him without a care in the world.

Midoriya rubs two fingers against his temple - he's intensely fighting to stay awake. But who could blame him? His best friend just went through something extremely traumatic and he doesn't know the best way to help him.

You rub his back, attempting to calm his visible anxiety.

"Alright, I'll tag in. Please Izuku, go to bed. You need to rest," you assert, knowing that he would keep himself up until he physically couldn't stand if it meant helping a friend - especially Bakugo.

"Yeah. Thank you, y/n," Midoriya says wearily. As he stands, you jump up from your own seat to wrap him in a tight hug. He accepts, sighing into your shoulder as his body deflates into yours.

"Come on, I'll walk you back to your room."

───

After you walk Midoriya back to his dorm room, you go inside with him for a few minutes to be sure he actually gets into bed. He lazily crawls under the sheets, letting you tuck him in as his eyes are fluttering closed. You pat his head and mutter a 'night Zu' as you tip-toe to the door, carefully shutting it behind you.

Jogging up to the 4th floor, you make your way down the hall to Bakugo's room. You stand outside for a moment before knocking twice.

No response.

You give him a few seconds before knocking again.

Nothing. You don't hear any movement on the other side of the door, either. Maybe he's asleep?

One final try before you give up and resort to calling him.

Thudding footsteps are stomping on the floor from inside his room after the third set of knocks. The sudden sound shocks you as the door flies open, Bakugo's scowling face emerging from behind it, the whites of his eyes faintly pink in color. Has he been crying?

"God dammit, nerd! I fuckin' told you -," He doesn't notice it's you right away as he's shouting in your face. Once the realization sets in, he visibly recoils at his mistake. "...sorry. Thought you were Izuku."

"I could go dye my hair and draw freckles on if you wanna yell at me," you joke.

He doesn't laugh - not even an eyeroll.

Your heart sinks.

Neither of you say anything, standing there awkwardly as the air thickens between the two of you. Bakugo audibly exhales and you can't tell if he's annoyed, angry or...sad.

"Can I come in?" you ask humbly.

He says nothing, retreating back into his room - but, he leaves the door open for you. You take that as an accepted invitation, coming inside and closing the door behind you. He sits on his bed, knees tucked up to his chest as he scoots back to the wall.

Seeing Bakugo like this tugs at your heartstrings, despondent and detached, the opposite of any emotions he'd usually carry. You follow him to the bed and quietly ask permission to sit with him.

"Do you want me to sit with you, Kat?"

He doesn't move, just answers with a muted 'whatever.'

As gentle as you can, you climb onto the bed and shimmy next to him, back against the wall. You'll take this as a win, especially since Midoriya mentioned him not answering anyone else. You're about to say something as you hear a sniffle, confirming your suspicions.

Bakugo was and has been crying.

You reach over to put a hand in his hair in an attempt to comfort him. Instantaneously, he smacks your hand away - hard - and a spark jumps off his palm. Normally, he'd let you touch him without an issue - to an extent, of course, but right now? You understand why he wouldn't want any physical touch.

"Okay, I'll sit here as long as you want," you affirm, retracting your hand and pulling your own knees to your chest. "You don't have to say anything."

With that, the flood gates busted wide open. Bakugo whips his head in your direction, his nose red and eyes swollen, and frantically scrambles on to you. The two of you fall sideways into the pillows at the head of the bed as he wraps his arms around you into an awkward embrace. He buries his face in the curve of your neck, latching onto the back of your shirt with an ironclad grip as he begins to sob.

You have never heard him cry this hard over anything, not even after his fight with Midoriya back in their first year.

You don't wait for Bakugo to say anything before you're cradling him against you, one hand delicately stroking his hair while the other massages light circles on his back.

"I've got you, Katsuki, it's okay," you whisper soothingly while trying your damndest to stop yourself from crying along with him. You wish, more than anything in the world, that you could physically remove the memory from his brain to free him of this trauma.

"I'm not going anywhere, I'll stay as long as you want."

He doesn't respond, only pushes himself deeper into your embrace. You can feel the material of your shirt sticking to your skin at your collarbone from his snot and tears, and you're definitely going to have bruises on your back from his fingers digging into you for support. None of that matters though in the moment, what matters is that he's getting the initial shock out of his system.

You're not too sure how long you both lay there, but with time, you can tell Bakugo's calming down by his sobs mellowing out. His body begins to loosen up, the tension melting from his tightened grip around you. And then you hear it - a low snore.

He'd fallen asleep.

You tilt your head back to get a look at his face. His features have relaxed around his puffy eyes and pink nose. Without thinking, you run a hand through his bangs, exposing his forehead and press a tender kiss to it. He doesn't stir and continues to take deep, sleepy breaths.

───

Bakugo wakes an hour later, dazed and exhausted. When he starts to shift in your arms, you open your eyes. You give him a hearty smile as he releases his hold, rolling onto his back next to you.

"Mornin' sunshine. How're you feeling?"

He snorts as his eyes focus on the ceiling. "Like shit."

He pauses before looking back at you. "But less than before. Thanks. I'm just fuckin' tired."

"You scared me, I've never seen you that upset before," you admit. "You don't have to talk about it now, or ever, just know that I'm here for whatever you need."

"I don't even know what to say about it. Shit sucked, but it's what we signed up for." He's very monotone, but at least he's talking.

You roll over to face him. "I'm sorry you had to see it."

Bakugo sighs. "'S what it is. I'll get over it. Endeavor told me the first one is the hardest, better to get it outta the way before becomin' a pro."

Damn, that made your heart ache.

"Just 'cause we wanna help people doesn't mean we can't also ask the same for ourselves. Heroes need a hero, too."

He lolls his head to the side and stares at you, a gleam in his tired eyes. "...yeah."

The room is silent as the two of you take a break from the rough conversation. If he doesn't want to continue talking, you don't push it. Instead, you offer a distraction.

"I'd love to take you hiking today, if you're up for it," you say with enthusiasm. "I know how much you love that one trail nearby with the overlook of the city."

Bakugo felt his heart flutter at the proposal, confusing the hell out of him, but offered a sense of comfort that he needed. He loved that you remembered something so niche about his interests.

"Maybe tomorrow."

"Sure! You tell me how early you wanna go and I'll get my ass out of bed. Just for you," you tease, jokingly smacking his arm. "We can get lunch on the way back from the hike, too. Wherever you wanna go!"

Between the swirl of emotions from earlier and how sweet you're being to him now, he's overwhelmed with a feeling he can't quite place.

"Y/N, can I ask you something?" he asks abruptly.

Well, that came out of nowhere.

"Always, Kat. What is it?"

He stalls his follow up, seeming to think a little longer on how he wans to phrase his question.

"Why...are you here with me?"

His question baffles you. "Because you're my best friend?"

Best friend, he repeats in his head.

You notice the pondering look in his eyes as he turns to face you, shifting to lay on his side.

"It's because I care deeply about you, Katsuki. Nothing'll ever change that."

"...promise?" His voice is shaky, a nervousness to his tone.

You reach out and touch his cheek, stroking it lovingly with your thumb.

"Is that even a question? Yes, I promise. You're stuck with my ass forever, like it or not. I’ll be cheering for you every step of the way."

He laughs - genuinely.

And then he smiles. Your heart soars into the heavens.

"There's my favorite firecracker!" you boast, squishing his cheek in your hand.

Bakugo huffs at the sudden affection, a dusting of pink on his cheeks and nose.

"Th' fuck?!" he curses, playfully poking your forehead. "I'm not a firecracker!"

“Coulda fooled me, Mr. Lord Explosion Murder God Dynamight.”

The two of you play fight, cackling like children as the tension melts from the room.

Even if it’s just for a little while, Bakugo forgot about the agonizing dread from hours ago.

───

Later on in the dorm lobby, you’re sitting on the couch with Bakugo, feet in his lap watching TV as he’s reading a book. Midoriya comes prancing into the room, fresh faced from his nap. His eyes brighten when he sees Bakugo on the couch.

“Hey guys! Kacchan, how are you feeling?” he asks cheerfully, taking a seat on the couch next to him.

Unexpectedly, Bakugo wraps an arm over Midoriya’s shoulder, tugging him into his side.

“Fine, nerd. Thanks.” He lets go, puts a hand on his head and roughly fluffs his curls - just like when they were kids. Midoriya is so taken aback that he doesn’t say anything, he just smiles and relaxes next to him.

“What are we watching?”

You lean sideways to catch a glimpse of the boys together on the couch, co-existing without any negativity. Even after all the shit life throws at them, they still find ways to shove it all away to enjoy each other’s company. Sometimes, they just need a little help getting back to that mentality.

A silent huff escapes you as you lay back into the couch.

These boys are going to be the death of me.

i love these goobers and wanna buy them a lifetime’s worth of ice cream and take them to disney world to make them happy :’)

[swissboyhisch]

Outed Secret

Pairing: Cole Caufield x Hughes!Reader

Summary: You were looking forward to the summer spent at the lake house. It was even more exciting because your boyfriend was also coming.

Word Count: 1609

Warnings: Alcohol, teasing, keeping secrets and annoying brothers.

THE MASTERLIST JOIN THE TAGLIST HOCKEY DISCORD

Summer. A time when you spent days at the Lake House with your family. You and your brothers, all together under one roof, much to the horror of your parents. It was a place where you brought heaps of friends to celebrate the offseason, spending the days on the lake and drinking until sunrise.

This year, your parents decided to let the four of you have the house to yourselves, allowing you and your siblings to invite friends to enjoy the free time. You, of course, invited your best friend, knowing the summer could only get better with her by your side. It also meant you two could get up to a little mischief.

Each of your brothers invited some teammates, past and present. Luke brought some UMich boys: Dylan, Mackie, Ethan, and Mark. Jack, of course, had some of the NTDP boys coming, who were also your friends: Trevor, Alex, Cole, Matt, and Patrick. Quinn mainly invited some of his Canucks teammates: Petey, Brock, and Kuzy.

Your boyfriend was among the hockey players invited to the Lake House this summer. Not that any of your brothers knew that. God, they’d all kill you. Maybe not Quinn, but especially Jack if he found out who you had been dating, let alone dating one of his best friends for the last year… Yikes.

You and your best friend, Ella, were the first to reach the Lake House. The boys were due to arrive over the next couple of days, but for now, the two of you could go shopping for a heap of food for the next couple of weeks. Oh, and alcohol. Can’t forget that. The boys would kill you.

“How many people are going to be staying here?” Ella asked as you packed the food away.

“Uh, like 15 of us, give or take,” you replied.

“And Cole is one of them,” Ella smirked, throwing a bag of chips at you. She was one of the few people, besides Cole’s teammates, who knew.

“Yes, he is arriving tomorrow. Hopefully before Jack and Luke.”

“So you can smooch,” Ella teased.

That night, the two of you shared a pizza and some drinks while sitting around the fire pit, gossiping about the year you both had had in Michigan. You didn’t know how you managed to get the fire started. July 4th was this weekend, so plans about the weekend also slipped into the conversation.

The backdoor opened, interrupting the two of you who weren’t expecting any company. There stood Cole with a huge grin on his face, his arms outstretched, knowing you would sprint to him. It happened many times when he’d pick you up at Montreal-Pierre airport. Ever the romantic, the two of you were.

“Cole!” You sprinted from the pit to the patio, throwing yourself at your boyfriend. His arms wrapped tightly around you.

“Hey baby,” Cole chuckled, holding you close. “I’ve missed you.”

After he had dumped his bags in his, Jack, and Trevor’s room, Cole joined you to snuggle by the fire. The two of you shared a fluffy blanket, and the three of you caught up. Ella had joined you on a couple of trips to Montreal because you needed a cover story. You couldn’t just tell your brothers the truth about all the trips. ‘Hey Jack, you know how I keep going to Montreal every couple of months? Well, it’s to see your best friend, who is my boyfriend.’ God, you could just imagine Jack’s reaction.

It was special waking up next to Cole that morning, taking in the body heat that wrapped around you. But the moment didn’t last long. You could hear the front doors opening and the voices of your youngest brothers. Shit. That woke you up quickly. They were way earlier than any of you expected.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Cole was too sleepy to realise who the voices belonged to. Instead, you had to shove him out of the bed. The boy groaned when he landed on the cold wood floor.

“Cole, wake the fuck up. Jack and Luke are here.”

“What?!”

“They’re here early, Cole. Get the fuck out.”

That had him scrambling for his shirt and pants, and his other things, sneaking back to his and the boys' room before Jack could make his way to it. You pretended to sleep a little more before they came to get you out of bed like they loved to do.

“What’s all the noise for?” you groaned as you walked into the hall where Jack and Cole were hugging. You rolled your eyes at your brother’s over-dramatic antics and moved to the kitchen, making sure to call out behind you. “Good to know the bromance can survive being on different teams.”

“Good morning to you too,” Jack retorted.

The day continued, filled with looks shared between you and Cole, often over your brother’s shoulder. The day was spent on the boat with a small group, just hanging out and jumping on and off the boat in the middle of the lake. As the sun set, you found yourself around the fire pit once more with a few more people than the night before. Cole sat on the other side of the fire beside Jack.

“So, sis, we’ve heard you’ve got a boyfriend?” Jack grinned at you.

“What, no?” you lied, your eyes flicking to Cole for only a split second.

Jack chuckled, “Mum accidentally let slip you had a boyfriend. You can’t lie to us now.”

“Fine, I do.”

“How did you meet him?” Luke asked.

You thought about it for a split second. How do you lie and make sure no one connects the dots? “Here in Michigan.”

“Oh nice, so you met him at college,” Jack assumed.

Luke’s eyes focused on you. He was at UMich with you and didn’t remember you ever being with a guy. “At college?”

“Uh yeah?”

“What class did you meet in?” Luke continued.

“Art history,” you lied.

Luke didn’t believe you. The look on his face screamed skepticism. As the photographer for the hockey team, you hung out with him and the team nearly all the time. He knew you wouldn’t have had time for a relationship during college.

“How was your last trip to Montreal?” Jack asked, knowing you and Ella had spent a week in Canada after officially finishing college.

“It was great,” you grinned, “We had a blast.”

“Did you two catch up?” Luke asked, turning to Cole.

Now you could lie, but your poor sweet innocent boyfriend couldn’t. He lost every game of poker. “Yeah, we caught up for dinner, of course.”

“That’s good,” Luke muttered, watching Cole closely. “Glad to know she had a good tour guide.”

“He’s a great tour guide,” you interjected.

Jack stayed oblivious, but Luke’s eyes flicked between you and Cole. He did it for a solid minute before realisation crossed his face. You stood up and grabbed Luke’s arm, pulling him behind you.

“Luke, I need help getting the s'mores ingredients,” you said as you manhandled your tallest brother.

You pulled him into the kitchen and shoved him in, making sure to double-check that Jack didn’t follow you. Cole watched as you left, wanting to follow but knowing it would be suspicious.

“You keep it quiet,” you hissed at your baby brother.

“You and Caufield, seriously? How long have you two been seeing each other?”

“You can say we’re dating.”

“Gross,” Luke gagged.

“Grow up,” you retorted, poking your tongue out at him.

“No,” he sassed.

“To answer your question, we’ve been dating for nearly a year,” you told him, making him sigh once more.

“And that’s why you’ve been going to Montreal? Ella covers for you?”

“Ella actually comes to Montreal with me. But she has family there she sees,” you admitted.

Luke stayed quiet for a moment before nodding. He knew Cole and what he was like as a person. “Are you happy with Cole?”

At that very moment, Jack thought it was a great idea to step into the kitchen with Cole rushing in behind him. “Please say I misheard that,” Jack begged.

“Uh…”

“You didn’t,” Luke nodded, giving a pointed look at Cole standing behind Jack.

Jack turned to his best friend, “You’re dating my sister?!”

“About that,” Cole muttered, unsure of how to handle your brother. “Yes, I am. Our one year is coming up, actually.”

“Yeah, this weekend,” you admitted.

“So you guys got together on July 4th last year?!” Jack yelled.

At this time, Quinn finally arrived with Petey, Brock, and Kuzy in tow. Ella joined as well, wanting to double-check the arguing didn’t get physical between the siblings. She had seen them go crazy on each other before.

“What the hell is going on here?” Quinn asked, looking around the kitchen.

Jack pointed to where you and Cole were standing together and exclaimed, “These two are dating. For like a year!”

“Yeah? I know?”

“So what? Quinn got to know?” Luke frowned.

“How did you know?” you asked Quinn.

Quinn chuckled, “There are only so many times you can go to Montreal without an ulterior motive. It was either Cole or Juraj.”

“Hey!”

“Sorry Cole,” Quinn laughed.

The kitchen was quiet for a moment. The other Canucks and Ella stepped out, leaving the Hughes siblings and Cole alone. You stood next to Cole nervously, hand in hand. Quinn knew and was playing mediator now. Luke was upset about not being told, but Jack… Jack seemed pissed off. Which, to be fair, was what you expected. Then, after a moment, Jack broke the silence.

“Oh my god, that means we’re going to be brothers!”

TAG LIST:

@findapenny @mp0625 @hischierhaze @11zegras @lvrzegras 

@francesfarhadi @cixrosie @dasiysthings @dancerbailey3 @puckmaidens 

@cole-mcward48 @sammiejane22 @rleigh-47 @Devilsandpensfan @luca-fantilli 

@books-hlmc @kajasagmo @poufsouffle21 @absolutelyhugh3s

[cumikering]

F1 John Price x reader 3

2.8k | fluff, suggestive John Price was not jealous of a lap dog (part 1) (part 4)

“So let me get this straight,” you said, plating the sliced loaf on the counter. “You love berries.”

John hummed as he stepped closer, turning you to him by the hips.

“You love to nap and you’re crazy about salmon.”

Crazy about you too.

You scratched his bearded jaw. “You’re a bear, aren’t you?”

He laughed as he leaned in. You smiled against his lips.

The both of you made breakfast. You thanked him again for the loaf, saying it paired wonderfully with tea. In the sunlight, you gazed at him with those pretty eyes, smile sweet, that his heart skipped a beat.

There was something about you, or your place, or the quiet morning that was like a warm embrace to him. Safe. Serene. It was easy to be with you, like there was nothing that could go wrong when you were with him.

You looked out the window and he revelled in the way the diffused light caressed your skin. The sun had grown warmer.

“Need to go to the shops later today,” you muttered.

“I can take you.”

You turned to him, beaming. “There’s a small park I like nearby.”

When he pulled up, it was then he realised he’d forgotten his cap at your place. He reached for the pocket behind your seat, lucky to have kept a spare team cap there.

“Orange looks good on you.” Your fingers curled over the crook of his arm.

He turned to you smiling up at him. I think it would look even better on you. “Yeah? We call it papaya at McLaren.”

You let out a small laugh. “That’s adorable.”

You took a short stroll at the quiet park, his strong hand engulfed yours, and headed to the shops before it got too cold. He hauled the shopping to and from his car, and he swore he fully intended to get out of your hair after he helped you put away your shopping, but when you pulled out two mugs for tea… Well, maybe you didn’t mind if he tarried a little.

At the end of the night, John gathered his toiletries and zipped his luggage up.

“You always come to me, John. Let me return the favour,” you said at the door.

“My place is a bit far.”

“All the more reason why I should, no?”

“I really don’t mind.” He brought your hand to his lips. “Maybe next time when we're in the area?”

You gave him a quick kiss and he pulled his cap on before walking away. He hoped you didn’t mind that he left the orange one on your dining table. You’d look better in it.

January days crawled into a pattern. John picked you up from work for dinner two, three times a week, staying over on the weekends. Seeing you, no matter how short always made him smile.

John, you don’t have to pick me up. I’m closing today. Sophie’s ill so I sent her home. See you tomorrow?

No. See you later

You poor thing. You’d be too tired to cook dinner. He could buy you something instead, guaranteed to taste good – you deserved it after a long day, but he wanted to show his appreciation too. You’d taught him how to cook upon his request, and it was his time to show you what he’d learnt (hopefully). But as he was swinging by the shops for your favourite protein, an idea struck.

When he pushed the door of your shop open, you were wiping down the counters. He pulled his mask down and greeted you with a kiss. His beard had grown full, and he found himself addicted to the way you nails scratched his jaw when your lips met.

He insisted on helping you with the washing – it was the least he could do for his favourite lady, but not before cornering you against the counter, lifting you by the waist onto it and savouring your glossy lips a little longer. You tasted even better when you giggled, your fingers digging into his biceps, making him hum.

In the car, he pulled out the Tupperware of sub sandwiches from his backseat. “Eat up, love. I’m taking you somewhere.”

“You made these?”

He nodded, glancing at you. “I hope you like it.”

You smiled. “Thank you.”

The streets had simmered down and the drive to the other side of town was shorter than expected. The doorman greeted you warmly, swinging the door open to a vast lobby with a classic grand chandelier, accentuating the lustrous marble floors. He picked up a small bag from the concierge and pulled out an access card.

“Oh, it’s such a nice place, John,” you said as you stepped into the lift.

He pressed the button to the top floor and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you against his side. “My manager lives here. I like the view.”

John had called her earlier as he drove to you.

“Kate, do you mind if I borrow your spotting scope tonight?”

“Let me guess.” She let out an amused chuckle. “You’re at the coffee shop and you need me to deliver it in half an hour?”

Kate had started teasing John ever since the GTI favour. Always self-sufficient, he wasn’t one to bother anyone unless it was necessary. Someone had to make him act that way, for him to go out of his way to ask for favours, especially something so trivial.

It might be off season and they didn’t have to talk about work nearly as often, but they’d always meet for a meal once or twice a month with Kate’s wife. Not this time though. She didn’t miss the way he only responded during working hours. Kate didn’t press, but it was a slip of the tongue when he said he’d made plans with you when she suggested dinner one weekend.

“I’d like to go to your rooftop actually.”

“Your balcony has a far better view.”

“Well, your building is quieter.”

“You can’t hear anything from the 30th floor.”

A beat. “Can I borrow the scope, please, Kate?”

“Yeah, alright, sure. What time are you swinging by? We’re going out for dinner.”

“Yeah, no worries. Could you leave it at the concierge for John Sloane?”

She chuckled. “Sloane? Like your mum’s maiden name? They know who-“ There was a pause. “She doesn’t know, does she?”

John could imagine Kate’s pitying look. They’d been working closely for years, even before he got into F1. A karting champion in her younger days, she was his mentor before becoming his manager. Naturally, she was privy to his relationships, especially the one which was flaunted all over the media.

She had encouraged him to play along, stomach it. You can’t run from this if you’re in the business, she’d said, and she was right. It was evidently favourable for his career, until it wasn’t for his feelings anymore.

Perhaps Kate had been callous to his discomfort, something she had apologised for numerous times. She had since said nothing about his personal relationships, not like there was much to say though. He couldn’t be too cautious of who to let in.

He sighed. “It’s a long story.”

“It’s none of my business, John, but that doesn’t sound right.”

“I know, I know. I’m just… Taking it slow. I’m telling her before the season starts.”

John pulled the beanbag chairs from under the canopy. He plopped down, tugging on your wrist to sit between his thighs. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you lose to his chest before you looked through the scope.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you. Someone came in in a McLaren polo today, said he was getting cookies for his boss. It was my first time seeing someone with a mohawk in real life, but he definitely pulled it off.”

He laughed. “Wait, let me guess. He’s Scottish?”

“Yes! You know him?”

“His name is John too, but we call him Johnny or Soap.”

“Soap? Like a bar of soap?”

“Yeah. One time, someone got a box of decorative soaps – I think it was macaron? He mistakenly took a bite out of it.”

You laughed and lowered the scope, turning to him. “Are you serious?”

“To be fair they did look hyper-realistic and smelled wonderful. But I like to think I wouldn’t have been fooled.”

You held the scope back up, the smile still on your lips. “I didn’t think you’d know him. I said a friend works there.”

“A friend, huh.” He kissed the top of your head. “I hope I’ll be more than that one day.”

“You are.”

He heard the tease in your voice. “You are to me too. I like you a lot.” Too much.

It had only been two months since the day you made him his double-shot Americano, but it felt much longer. Seeing you the past weeks had been the highlight of his time off, allowing him a glimpse of your everyday life.

Despite disliking driving outside the track, with London’s dreadful traffic at that, he didn’t mind at all dropping you off work and picking you up again. It was rude how soon he daydreamed about being a part of your life, but kissing you at your door at the end of the night was the best part of his day.

“John, you live around here, right? Should we just go to yours?”

“Not tonight, love. Place is a mess.”

“I don’t mind. You said we’d go when we’re in the area.”

Shit, he’d forgotten. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting a guest. Next time?”

You hummed, pulling his arms tighter around yourself.

John, once more, breathed a sigh of relief. But he’d meant it – he would tell you soon. He just needed some more time.

You started wearing his papaya cap on rainy days, and on that gloomy Friday, John decided on kebab for dinner. You were supposed to sit at the park, but the cloudy sky didn’t look promising. Instead, you ate in the car before heading home.

Before he exited his car, he placed the cap over your head, making you smile. The colour really looked wonderful on you.

Near the building entrance, you stopped in your tracks.

“John, do you hear that?”

“What?”

“Like a puppy whining- There!”

The noise was faint but he heard it then. You followed it to the SUV at the end of the lot with John trailing. Under the bonnet, a small dog was curled up, soaked and trembling in the cold.

“Oh, you poor thing,” you said, stooping down and inching your hand out. “You must be lost.”

The brown pooch whined louder and made the slightest hint of a scoot towards you amidst the shivers of its body. It was all it took for you to scoop it into your arms.

“I’ll get you warm-” You inspected the glinting tag on his collar, flipping it over. “Holden,” you muttered. “John, could you help me call his owner while I dry him?”

“Of course.”

You rushed to the bathroom to dry the pup off. Later, with the collar and his phone in hand, John cracked open the door.

“They’re not picking up, but I sent a text. Hopefully I’ll get a reply soon.”

Holden stood on the toilet lid as you knelt down to blow dry him. John sat next to you, watching how gentle you were to the strange dog as you fluffed him up, muttering reassuring words at him. He stopped shaking.

You switched off the hairdryer.

“Wow, it’s like he put on a few pounds.” John stroked his now blond-grey fur. He looked up at him with doe eyes and licked his hand. “What breed is he?”

You laughed, rising to your feet and scooping him into your arms. You scratched the back of his ear and his tail swayed at the attention. “Yorkshire Terrier. He’s such a sweetheart, isn’t he?”

Just like you are. He followed you out to the living room. “I’ll get him water.”

You and John lounged on the couch, Holden napping on your chest, finally warm and cosy wrapped up in one of your old towels. You caressed him mindlessly as you watched the telly.

John Price was not jealous of a fluffy lap dog. It was silly to think so far, but he thought he’d love a pet with you, something to take care of together. Your tenderness made him fuzzy.

It was then his phone rang on the coffee table. It was the owner.

You headed to the address given, just a few minutes away from your place. As you walked up to the door, Holden’s tail went wild. You cooed at him and a woman answered the door.

A little girl rushed past and gave your midriff a big hug. “You found him! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

You stroked her hair and stooped to hand the pup to her.

“Thanks so much for bringing him back, love,” the woman said to you before nodding at John. “It was my fault, I left the door open and he slipped away yesterday. We were worried sick.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad I found him. He must have been so scared.”

“Here, please accept this.” She took your hand and clasped it over a wad of bills.

“Oh- No, no, I can’t accept that. It was my pleasure. I’m just happy he’s alright now.”

The woman smiled. “Thank you so much, love, really.”

“You be good now, Holden.” You patted his head, and he let out an excited bark before you turned.

At the end of the night, John climbed in bed with you, pressing his chest against your back.

He planted a few kisses on your neck as he mumbled, “I got you this.” He reached over, presenting you a small, custom bear plush wearing an orange cap.

You turned to him, beaming. “Is that supposed to be you?” You ran a finger over the cookie on the bear’s paw.

“Maybe.” He smiled.

“I love it.” You gave him a peck. “What should I call him?

“What about JP?” He pressed his forehead against yours, eyes closed.

“I never got to ask what that stands for,” you whispered against his lips.

“Jean Pierre. You got it right the first time.” He laughed. “My mates call me that sometimes.”

“Have you all got nicknames?”

“Some of us, yes. There’s Gaz, Ghost, and you already know Soap. My manager gets called Watcher.”

“They all sound so fun. Would love to meet them one day.”

“They are. They’re good people.” They’d love you.

Seeing his teammate’s recent obsession with cookies, Kyle didn’t take long to connect the dots. While John was initially reluctant to show your photos to Kyle and the others, he couldn’t hide his grin when Johnny said you looked even better in real life.

“She gave me a free coffee, said she’s got a mate who works at McLaren. So it was you, Cap. How modest of her to say,” he’d said.

They asked when they’d get to meet you, the mystery cookie lady John Price couldn’t stop talking about. Except Kate, the only one who knew why you hadn’t met his closest people yet.

A pause. Your warm breath tickled his skin in the silence.

“Thanks for JP. Now I’ll have you with me every night.”

“You can always ask,” he grunted.

“What if I never want you to leave?”

“Then I won’t, love.”

“You promise?” you murmured.

“I promise.”

It was stupid, really, to let himself feel so much, so fast. But he couldn’t help but want more and more. He felt enough with you, for you, like he didn’t have to be anybody else but some bloke from Liverpool.

He couldn’t keep doing this to you, someone so special to him.

You pulled him close, the small puffs of breath he knocked out of you warm against his shoulder, nails raking deliciously down his back. Just like in his daydreams, the beautiful sounds you let out made his skin tingle and sear. Was he the one making you feel this way?

He dipped his head, breath hot and heavy, grunting into your ear. You made his head spin. He’d never get tired of the way his name slipped past your soft lips, the way you caressed his face, or the way you planted wet kisses on his neck.

He knew it right then. You wouldn’t break his heart.

John sighed, the thin layer of sweat almost gone from his skin. On his bare chest, you slept soundly in his shirt and the smile wouldn’t leave his lips as he buried his nose in your hair. He wanted this with you, always.

He’d tell you in the morning. But tonight, with lungs full of your sweet scent, he’d sleep in peace knowing nothing would change tomorrow.

Masterlist Ex bf John Price

@tiredmetalenthusiast @le16erc @kyletogaz @ohtobehappy @yikes077

@fruitymoonbeams-blog @juicyjujuuu @alleycc @lahniu @hungrycrazy

@nocturnalreader106 @oceantornadoo @strong-bronze-or-regal-black @dahlia-reads @shinymriver

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@eve-lie @hope69world @asbestos-n-asbesties

[storiesofsvu]

Decadent Desires Ch 10

Emily Prentiss x reader Warnings: language, alcohol, semi public make out sessions, smut, threesome, fingering, oral, face sitting. Once y'all read this hopefully you'll see why it took 2 weeks to get done, a whopping almost 7k words. woof. im planning on starting the next chapter asap and focusing on this series as it is about to pick up and a shift is coming so that tends to keep my brain more into writing. Happy Friday! <3

After spending a handful of weeks exploring luxury hotels around the Washington area, Emily had sent you a text asking which one you liked the best. She had come to the conclusion that she wanted to put down a standing reservation at one location rather than continue to hop around across the city. You spent a bit of time reflecting on your experiences and finally replied with your favourite three, the Waldorf being at the utmost top. She couldn’t help but let out a laugh, one that was of slight relief as she had the exact opinions. It was just far enough away from her place to feel like a mini vacation, but still close enough to not be a hassle of a drive, the amenities were stellar, with the best food and late night menus. It didn’t hurt that it was the hotel the bureau usually held their big galas, meaning it would be more than easy enough to sneak away at any of those, or to simply have you waiting for her when she was done.

Overall, it just made things easier to have the standing reservation, you both had key cards and were graciously welcomed by concierge anytime throughout the week when you swung by. You were both able to come and go as you please instead of having to wait in the lobby or hotel bar for the other to arrive. While Emily was happy to leave things in the suite over the weekend, she was still a little bit apprehensive of leaving certain things when neither of you were there and her worries were solidified when you ran through a list of things that Heather would never leave in her suite. It may be permanently booked out, but it was a hotel, no matter how much the price tag was you never knew who else could have access. Like Emily had said earlier, a Benjamin could get you into a lot of places privately that you weren’t supposed to be in.

When the weekend finally rolled around, both of you were more than ready to indulge, barely able to keep your hands off each other Friday night, just when you thought one round was finally done it simply melted into another. Emily caught herself up in some work Saturday morning but chose to hand you a credit card and told you to go have some fun and you took the day to shop. She was rewarded that evening when you were getting ready, catching a glimpse of some very lacy lingerie before you slipped into your dress, scolding her in a teasing manner for spying.

You were sat at a semi secluded corner booth at the hotel lounge where you shared a mushroom and black truffle flatbread, scallops and a plate of oysters. Cocktails were easily flowing, with no concern of how many refills were had considering you were only planning on walking to the elevator. Not that you weren’t pacing yourselves, but there was more of a sense of letting loose this time. It was almost a celebratory evening, the bill you’d been busting your ass for, for Heather had successfully made it through two rounds of voting, and the BAU had finally caught their nationwide killer, finally leaving time for more hours at the home office.

“You know,” Emily began, her hand resting on your bare thigh, fingers tickling at your skin, “I really have to say thank you for getting Bailey off my back.”

“I take it the date went well?” You asked, leaning into her touch.

“I thought you would know?” She raised a brow and you laughed.

“I haven’t heard from the girl in three weeks.”

“Well it does certainly appear that things worked out in our favour.” She replied, leaning in close enough to steal a kiss.

“Good.” You murmured, pressing your lips to hers once more before leaning away to pick up your drink.

“Between that and catching our unsub I feel like my workload has been cut in half.” She sighed happily, sipping at her cocktail, “I don’t have to nitpick through every piece of paperwork and worry about having to redo it all after Bailey sees it. He’s actually leaving the office at clock out time and not hassling me on the weekends. It’s practically heaven.”

“Now if only you would leave the office at a reasonable time.” You teased and she laughed, a hand reaching up to play with the hair at the back of your neck, guiding you back toward her.

“That’s bold coming from someone who was still working past midnight three times this week.” Her lips brushed against yours as she spoke, yours curving up into a grin before you closed the gap and kissed her, lips moving with grace together.

“Late nights mean I get to go in late the next day.”

“Yeah?” She raised a brow, her face only inches from yours, “and how late is that?”

“Ten,” you laughed, “maybe noon if I’m lucky.”

“She works you too hard.” Emily commented with a slight frown before kissing you and you chuckled into the kiss.

“And you work yourself too hard.” Your hand found her leg, gently squeezing at her thigh, managing to get one last peck in before Emily huffed. The playful eyeroll pulled a laugh from you, she knew you were right, she couldn’t exactly clock you for something that she was way worse at.

“I guess you’ve got me there.” She replied with a small laugh and you squeezed at her leg again.

“I’m pretty sure the saying is ‘work hard, play hard’ so as long as you’re keeping a healthy balance.” You suggested with a smirk and she grinned across at you.

“It’s not like I keep you around for nothing.”

“Though, considering how much work you’ve been doing, maybe I need to up my end of the bargain.”

“Yeah?” She raised a brow, “and what exactly have you got in mind?”

Before you could figure out a full answer, the server swung by to offer another round of drinks. The two of you briefly glanced at each other before selecting a new cocktail off the menu to try. After all, this weekend really was about having some extra levels of fun.

There was a new sense of electricity in the air tonight, it was difficult to keep your hands off each other even out in the eye of the hotel lounge. Though the crowd was dwindling with each hour that passed and it wasn’t long before your server was making a round past the table, mentioning that it was last call, wondering if you wanted another round to take to your room with you or if you just wanted to settle up. The two of you immediately glanced around, realizing you were the last two people in the lounge before apologizing and saying you would settle, Emily making sure to add a more than generous tip.

Her hand caught yours as you stepped into the lobby, your fingers linking together as she let out an almost whiney sigh.

“What?” You asked, turning back to her with a laugh.

“I dunno, it just feels too early to turn in.” She replied with a frown and you glanced at your watch.

“It’s barely two…” you murmured before glancing up at her with a sparkle in your eye,” I know a few places that would still be open.”

“And still serving by the time we get there?” She asked with a small laugh.

“They let people in ‘til three, serve ‘til four thirty, even later on long weekends. Think of it as an…after hours club.”

“The kind of after hours club that promotes fraternizing?”

You chuckled softly, tugging Emily closer to you to steal a kiss, “stop thinking like a fucking fed, it’s nothing illegal. Just people socializing, having fun, making new friends, having some drinks, no drugs, scouts honour. Prestigious enough you need a membership to get in. We don’t have to go,” you shrugged, “I’m sure if we just go upstairs I can entertain you until you’re tired, you just seemed a little extra feisty tonight.”

“Speak for yourself.” She laughed back.

“So should I call a car?” You asked, your brow raised while you watched her think it over.

“Fuck it. It’s about time to have some fun and let loose.”

“That’s what I thought.” You grinned, pulling your phone from your purse to make the call.

Emily wasn’t surprised when a Dunbar car was out front of the hotel mere moments later and you spewed off a cross street to the driver who gave a knowing hum before peeling off down the street. Even in the back of the car it was nearly impossible to keep your hands off each other, your hand quickly finding her clothed thigh before hers was inching up your bare one, daring to sneak under the hem of your dress. She was certain the divider was going to have to be lifted but you were suddenly pulling into a strip mall parking lot.

“This it?” She asked, her brow furrowing.

“Best way to keep a secret, isn’t it?” You replied, a grin on your lips as you leant in to kiss the corner of her mouth, “don’t be freaked when they ID you, they’re just making sure everyone inside is safe. And if you see the President or his wife… no you didn’t.” You slunk out of the car after that, leaving Emily wide eyed before she quickly followed after you, thanking the driver before the door shut behind her.

Your hand found hers as you wandered up to the seemingly closed front door, rapping against it before it swung open and you were let inside. Just as you’d warned her, both of you had your ID’s scanned before you slid your membership card across the counter and the attendant welcomed you with a warm smile and the curtain concealing the next set of doors was opened.

It was darker than Emily had expected, coloured lights shining through the rooms, changing their patterns and pathways sporadically, not particularly strobes, but enough to keep the darkness a mystery. The walls were lined with semi circle booths, tables scattered throughout the open space with a large bar in the middle, it appeared there was a VIP area in a little loft area and she could see heavy strobe lights coming from down a short flight of stairs where the main dance floor was and a longer dark hallway that either led to staff areas or something she wasn’t sure she wanted to think about. The music was loud, bass strumming through the space, reminiscent of her days spent in various clubs around the world. She started to wonder if it was her age showing that was making her think it was entirely too loud or too many years of excessive headphone use coupled with field work damaging her ears when your hand darted out, reaching into a fishbowl on the end of the bar. Her heart leapt into her throat, for a second thinking that you’d either dumped your keys or picked up god knows what before you turned to her with a pack of earplugs between your fingers.

“They keep it abnormally loud in here.” You shouted over the music before leaning in so close your lips were brushing against her ear, “harder to eavesdrop on secrets when you’ve got to be this close.”

She laughed with a nod, opening the packet to put the earplugs in as you did the same, following you up to the bar. With the plugs in the heaviness of the bass was muffled, but she could still hear you clearly, hear herself think rather than be completely clouded by the noise. A couple of cocktails later and you were nestled into one of the smaller curved booths, Emily’s hand once again finding a home on your thigh, fingertips tickling at your skin.

Between the volume and it being her first time there, the first little bit at the club was spent doing the best people watching you could in low light and relaxing, embracing the vibe and the atmosphere. Every so often one of you would lean in to say something, earning a laugh from the other, a more private moment to steal a kiss or make a comment about someone eying their prospective date for the night. Cocktails were replenished without even having to ask, the perfect balance of fruity and strong, though you both knew those were the dangerous kind, you may not be tasting the alcohol tonight, but you’d likely be feeling it tomorrow. But in the moment, it didn’t matter, you were simply enjoying the different environment, feeling frisky and not having to worry at all about watching eyes. Emily felt more free relaxed and uninhibited that she had in years and she was fully enjoying it.

“How did you find out about this place?” She asked, her head ducked toward yours.

“Heather.” You took a sip of your drink, “and before you ask, it’s about a sixty-forty split business-pleasure for her depending on the day. I don’t come too often, it’s not really my style, plus some of the governor’s aides really don’t know how to keep their mouths shut. Doesn’t matter if you were actually talking deals, the next time they see you in the hallway it’s all smarmy grins and waggly eyebrows as if you’d taken them into the back room or something.”

“For a place with so many politicians I’m surprised you haven’t seen anyone tonight.” Emily mused and you laughed.

“Em, please, I’ve clocked at least eight people I know between the door and the bar. But since it’s just all about discretion, no one will approach unless they’re interested,” your finger tapped the bottom of her chin, your breath hot on her lips when you spoke next, “especially when I came in with someone.”

Your lips hit Emily’s with ease and she let herself relax into the kiss, her tongue easily sinking into your mouth, the sweetness of your cocktails swirling around your mouth. You shifted on your seat, a hand sliding up the side of her neck to tangle into her hair and the hand she had on your thigh slipped under the hem of your dress. You let out a soft moan into the kiss, your leg nearly draping over Emily’s knee as her hand slunk higher, finger tips daring to trace patterns on your bare skin and you retaliated by nipping at her lower lip.

“Certainly are feeling frisky tonight, aren’t you?” You asked with a tease and she playfully rolled her eyes at you before leaving a kiss on the side of your neck.

Your hand remained at the back of her head, tickling at her neck, gently playing with her hair while you fell back into the mix of small talk and observing the club. The next time you got your cocktails refilled, the server dropped them off along with two shots of top shelf tequila and a folded cocktail napkin with a pain tucked into it. Emily raised her brow in their direction, watching as your eyes flicked from the napkin out into the bar, surveying the room.

“Let me guess…” you asked, your elbow resting on the table, your chin propped in your hand, “brunette at the end of the bar?”

The server nodded with a small laugh, swiping the empty cocktail glasses from the table and wandering back through the room. Your free hand was still toying with Emily’s hair as she leant in,

“Jackie, right?”

“Mmmhmm.” You replied, turning to her to brush your lips against hers, “looks like we caught someone’s eye.” You slid the tequila shot toward her, “you ever had a threesome?”

“Not in about thirty years.” She chuckled, watching the way your head tilted, the sparkle in your eye as you picked up your tequila shot.

“Intrigued?” You asked, watching as Emily’s eyes finally left yours, looking across the club to Jackie. Her gaze flicked up and down the other woman’s body, taking in the smirk of her lips over the rim of her martini glass, a similar shot of tequila waiting in font of her. She turned back to you, a small grin breaking out on her own lips,

“Very.”

“Thought you might be.”

Looking over toward the bar you raised your shot glass, Emily doing the same beside you and you nearly laughed at the excitement that flashed over Jackie’s face as she raised her own before all three of you shot the liquor back. Glassware slid to the edge of the table you picked up the pen, scrawling your hotel name and room number across the inside of the napkin, folding it and placing it beside the empty shots before grabbing your phone. A moment later the server was back, collecting all of the items and bidding you a goodnight.

“Don’t we have to pay?” Emily asked and you laughed softly, pinching at her chin to steal a kiss.

“It’s charged to the membership card and there’s an auto grat, don’t worry. Now c’mon.”

*

Introductions were made, flirty small talk was had as hefty glasses of bubbly were handed out, the three of you all surveying the vibes in the room as you got more comfortable with each other. You didn’t shy away from physical contact, your hand lingering on the small of Emily’s back when she moved passed you first, then your fingers loosely wrapping around Jackie’s wrist as you complimented a bracelet. You were the invisible string between the two of them, the one making sure everyone was comfortable and understood the situation and dynamics that were to come with it.

Jackie watched out of the corner of her eye as you murmured something to Emily, your finger curling under her chin before you kissed her. Rather that intruding on the moment she redirected her gaze out the large window over looking the city, the Washington Monument alit in the night sky.

“It’s quite a view you’ve got up here.” She commented, pulling a soft laugh from Emily.

“What can I say?” She replied, smoothing back a piece of your hair as Jackie turned back to face you, “pretty girls deserve to look at pretty things.”

“They certainly do.” The dark haired woman smiled, closing the distance between the three of you as she moved through the room. “You know, I am curious…what is the dynamic between the two of you?” She glanced to Emily, “because you simply exude power and control, but this one..” Her finger tilted towards you, “has been known to put up a fight occasionally.”

Emily laughed, her hand sliding across your lower back, “luckily that’s not something I’ve had to worry about.” She pressed a kiss to your cheek that you leant into before raising an eyebrow at Jackie.

“Funny it should matter to you at all considering it’s a known fact you’re a bit of a pillow princess.”

Jackie’s lips twitched up into a grin as Emily hummed beside you, “huh… just here to get fucked, are you?”

“Oh I’m sure she’ll participate.” You replied, glancing toward Emily before stepping closer to the other woman, “she likes to earn her fucking, isn’t that right?” Your finger tapped Jackie’s nose, “looking all pretty down on your knees, just absolutely begging for it.”

A slight flush took over her cheeks as her eyes darkened, “so you have been listening.”

Emily’s hand slid up your back, fingers almost tangling into the roots of your hair as she stepped ahead of you, her free hand raising to tap Jackie’s chin, “don’t worry, you’ll both get what you deserve. But right now I do think there’s a little bit too much clothing involved, head to the bed and get things started.”

A small nod from both of you before Jackie’s hand was tangled with yours and you were tugging her toward the bed. Her hands cupped your cheeks, pulling you to her for a kiss, lips moving frantically against yours as you backed the rest of the way to the bed. She whined into the kiss when you nipped at her lip before sliding your tongue into her mouth and the whine drowned into a moan. Your hands slid around her shoulders, pushing down the straps of her dress, fingers finding the zipper on the back and tugging it down. The fabric loosely fell around her shoulders, the desire to keep her hands on you too strong to let it fall to the floor quite yet.

Jackie’s hands gripped at your waist, backing you the final couple of steps before your knees hit the bed and they began to wander your body. She eagerly groped at your chest, lips curving up into a grin at the soft moan you let out into the kiss. Her fingers pinched at your nipples through your dress, continuing to toy with you as your hands grabbed her hips, rolling your own against her. Satisfied that your moans had began to morph into whines one of Jackie’s hands wrapped around you, quickly pulling down the zipper of your dress and shoving it down your body. She pulled away from the kiss just far enough for her eyes to flick down, a smirk taking over her lips.

“I just knew you’d be the type to dress up for the occasion.” She murmured, her fingers toying with the lace, “such a pretty set.”

“Guarantee you it looks better on the floor.” You husked back, arms reaching behind you to undo the bra, letting it fall to the ground as you stepped out of your dress and dropped back onto the bed.

You heard Emily huff out a laugh from the corner of the suite but your eyes were on Jackie as she shimmied out of her dress and crawled over you on the bed, your head dropping back into the pillows a moment later when her mouth wrapped around your nipple. Your own hands wandered her body, pinching at her nipples, toying with the waistband of her barely there panties while she continued to suck, bite and pinch at your chest. She moaned against your skin when you palmed at her cunt, her hips grinding down into the touch, just barely starting to rock in a rhythm against your hand.

“Certainly are eager… aren’t we?” Emily’s voice broke into your thoughts and your eyes flickered open, your breath catching in your throat when you realized she was at the base of the bed, stripped down except for the strap. Your hand tangled into Jackie’s hair, pulling her off you, breathlessly stealing a kiss as you sat up and nudged her toward the end of the bed.

“I think it’s time for you to prove what a good girl you are and get on your knees for Emily.”

“That’s it angel…” Emily purred as Jackie crawled off the bed, “get my cock nice and wet.”

“Yes ma’am.” The brunette murmured, settling on her knees in front of the other woman.

She parted her lips, her tongue licking Emily from base to tip before wrapping around the silicone and sinking down inch by inch until she was completely buried in her mouth. Jackie began a steady pace, bobbing on Emily’s cock and the older woman’s hand gently wrapped into her hair.

“Good girl.”

Jackie hummed around her cock, the tip hitting the back of her throat as she gagged, saliva pooling in her mouth as she continued. Emily’s hips rocked toward her, sinking her cock deeper into her mouth as her eyes flicked up to you.

“If you’re just going to take in the show you should probably play with that pretty little pussy.”

Your cheeks heated, a blush shooting through you as if you had just been caught staring at something you weren’t allowed to see and you eagerly nodded at Emily. Adjusting on the bed so you were resting against the headboard you yanked your panties down your legs to join the growing pile of clothes on the floor. Emily’s fingers tightened in Jackie’s hair, pulling her off her cock with a gasp and turning her head toward the bed,

“She’s got such a pretty pussy, doesn’t she?” She asked and Jackie nodded.

“Oh, fuck yes…”

“Spread your legs princess, let her see that gorgeous cunt.”

You did as asked, your legs spread wide as your hand slunk down your body, settling between your legs where two of your fingers spread your pussy lips apart for the two of them to get a better view. Jackie let out a needy squeak, sitting further up on her knees so she could rub her thighs together and Emily didn’t let the motion go unnoticed.

“You’re allowed to touch yourself.” She cooed, dropping her hair so she could caress her cheek, pinching at her chin to redirect Jackie’s eyes back to hers, “get yourself nice and messy while you suck my cock.”

Emily’s eyes were immediately redirected back to you as you let out a low moan, two fingers sinking into your cunt as you began to lazily finger yourself. A moment later and she felt the base of the toy brush against her clit and she let out a breathy sigh, Jackie’s lips wrapped around her length yet again. The pace Jackie sucked her off matched the rhythm she was bouncing on her own fingers, with more urgency than you were fucking yourself, eager to both prove herself and get as close to her peak as she could. She began to moan around Emily, muffled and needy, drool beginning to pool in the corners of her mouth, droplets dripping down her chin while the sounds of your wetness echoed through the room. Emily groaned at the sights, her hand tugging Jackie’s hair again and the woman let the toy drop from her mouth with a gasp.

“Good girl.” Emily praised, gesturing for her to stand. As she did, Emily’s hand closed around her wrist, pulling the fingers slicked with juices to her mouth and Jackie watched with wide eyes as Emily sucked them clean. “So sweet.” She spanked at her hip, “up on the bed, you’ve earned a reward.”

Climbing onto the bed, Jackie grinned, her hands soothing up your legs, spreading them even further apart, watching the way you fingered yourself.

“Such a gorgeous cunt.” She murmured, ducking down to nip at your inner leg and you chuckled, sliding your fingers out as you shifted on the bed.

“Pretty sure you already proved yourself babe.” Pinching at her chin you pulled her to you for a kiss before glancing over her shoulder at Emily who tilted her head at you.

“C’mere.” Once you were at the foot of the bed she grasped your hips, pinching gently, nodding towards Jackie, “take care of her, but you don’t get to come yet.”

“Of course.” You nodded, smiling sweetly and she chuckled.

“Then flip over.”

It wasn’t a command as much as a warning as Emily was the one who flipped you over onto your stomach, landing with a soft oof as you adjusted yourself, legs dangling off the bed, feet braced on the floor. Smiling, Jackie crawled back closer to you, fingertips drawing patterns across your back,

“Bet you just make the prettiest sounds while you’re getting fucked, don’t you?”

Emily took the cue, the head of her spit slicked cock nudging at your entrance and you let out a whine, pulling a teasing laugh from both of the other women. In one heavy thrust, Emily’s cock was buried in your pussy and you moaned, your eyes fluttering shut until her hand spanked the curve of your ass.

“Go ahead, get her off. You’re just keeping me warm.”

With the tiniest of grumbles, your hands scrambled for Jackie’s hips, yanking her toward you and she was quick to flip onto her back, sliding half underneath you with widespread legs so her pussy was perfectly aligned with your mouth. Emily’s hands on your hips squeezed, nudging you even closer to her and the movement shifted her cock inside you, your pussy fluttering around the toy, clouding your brain just in the slightest.

Doing your best to focus your hands trailed up Jackie’s thighs, thumbs pressing against her pussy as they ran up it, spreading her lips open for you before briefly rubbing over her clit and her head fell back onto the mattress. Your tongue then followed the path your thumbs had just made, swiping through her cunt slowly, lapping up the juices already dribbling out, a small groan leaving your lips at her taste. The tip of your tongue flicked against her throbbing clit and she gasped.

“Oh fuck!” One of Jackie’s hands shot to your head, tangling into your hair as her hips began to grind against your mouth.

Your lips wrapped around her lower ones, moaning and groaning into her pussy, vibrations shooting through her, bringing her pleasure pulsing more south with each move of your mouth. Your tongue dipped into her, swirling the best you could before licking through her again, pressing harder and moving faster with each pass of your tongue.

“More…” she whined, her nails scratching at your scalp and your mouth moved up, sucking her clit into your mouth. “Fuck! Yes! Right there.”

As your lips wrapped around her throbbing nub, your tongue danced patterns across it with varying speed and pressure. Jackie’s noises became louder with each lick, her lip tugged into her mouth to help muffle the sounds. Behind you, Emily, proud of the work you were putting in slowly circled her hips, causing the toy buried inside you to move just enough to get you moaning against Jackie’s clit, pulling even more noise from the dark haired woman. Just as she was about to start begging for more, two of your fingers pressed into her opening, rubbing softly, just enough to be more than a tease and give her what she wanted.

“Oh my god…” she sighed, hips rocking down to the touch.

“That feel good sweetheart?” Emily asked her, leaning over you just enough to pinch at Jackie’s thigh, “you like it when she eats your cunt?”

“Fuck yes.” She moaned in response.

Your fingers slid in and she gasped, her back arching off the bed as your tongue pressed harder against her clit and you began to fuck her. Your fingers twirled, twisted and scissoring around in her cunt, stretching her out, teasing her just enough to have her a whining mess against the bed before your hand began to pump back and fourth. You crooked your fingers just enough and she swore, a near cry leaving her throat.

“Fuck! Right there.”

You pressed against the spot again and her thighs trembled around you and you knew she was close. A heavy groan from you muffled against her cunt as Emily circled her hips again, her cock dragging against your walls as she pinched at your hips. Your mouth popped off her with a gasp of breath as you thrust your fingers into her faster, curling with each pump and your free hand rubbed her clit.

“I know you’re close sweetheart.” You pressed down on her clit harder, “come for me.”

Ducking your mouth back down you replaced your hand with it, sucking her clit hard into your mouth as your fingers pushed into the sensitive spot in her drenched cunt. A few more pumps of your hand and Jackie was crying out, her back arching off the bed as her body tensed, orgasm rocking through her. You let up with your mouth, leaving a gentle kiss just above her clit as your fingers slowed.

“So good for us.” You purred, kissing across her thighs, “so pretty when you come.”

Your fingers slipped from her and you crawled back onto the bed, letting out a low whine when Emily’s cock slipped from your cunt. You trailed kisses up Jackie’s body while she caught her breath, finally landing with one on her lips.

“Holy fuck.” She muttered, still panting.

“Such a good girl.” You cooed, leaning down to nip at her neck, “now… are you finished or do you think you can go for on more?”

“More.” She pouted a whine leaving her lips and you chuckled.

“Yeah?” Sitting up you glanced over your shoulder to where Emily was slowly rubbing up and down the toy, “you want her cock?”

“Mmhmm.” Jackie scrambled to her knees, her eyes wide and pleading.

“Want Emily to fill up that tasty fucking pussy of yours?”

“Fuck. Please.” She looked between the two of you, eyes darting down to Emily’s cock coated in your juices, “please oh god, I need it.”

Emily chuckled, crooking two fingers at the other woman, “you can have it. But you don’t get to come until you’ve made her come, understood?”

“Yes.” Jackie practically pounced down to the end of the bed, sprawling out on her back and spreading her legs wide for Emily, her pussy still dripping with wetness.

You watched as Emily slid the tip of the toy through her folds, smearing her wetness with your remaining juices, teasing her just enough so that Jackie was out of breath again.

“Well?” she glanced from her cock up to Jackie’s face and over to you and the other woman’s hands scrambled to your waist, tugging you to her as Emily yanked her to the edge of the bed and sunk her cock into her.

Jackie let out a low moan, nearly forgetting the task at hand at the sensation of being full and stretched before her head rolled towards you, “sit on my face.”

You didn’t waste any time, quickly straddling her head and a second later her hands were clawing at your waist, tugging you right down onto her face, her tongue lapping at your pussy. Behind you, Emily set a steady pace, her hips thrusting into Jackie with precision and skill, watching at the way you started to grind down onto her face. As much as you had wanted to watch Jackie come undone on the other woman’s cock you were utterly lost in your own world as she started to eat you out, your pussy throbbing around nothing as pleasure began to shoot through you.

“Oh my god…” you groaned, your head falling back as you hands began to wander you own body, aching for something to latch onto as Jackie’s lips wrapped around your clit. “Fuck!”

Each time Emily circled her hips, or began to toy with the other woman’s clit, Jackie’s moans got louder and longer, vibrating right into your cunt. Her nose would brush against your clit, rubbing at it as her tongue explored as much of your dripping pussy as she could. Your hands pinched at your nipples, rolling them between your fingers as you rode her face, matching the pace that Emily was fucking her. Jackie’s tongue flicked at your clit again and you gasped.

“Fuck.”

“That’s it.” Emily husked from behind you, thrusting harder into her, “she likes that, keep going.”

Jackie’s mouth latched around your clit and you shuddered, your thighs trembling around her head and you could almost feel her lips curving up into a smirk. Her hand snuck between your legs, sinking two fingers into you, curling immediately and you moaned, this one louder than the last.

“Keep that up and you’ll make her come.” Emily urged, and Jackie didn’t waste a single second.

Her tongue pressed harder, dancing its patterns faster as her hand began to move quicker, her free hand gripped your waist so tight you knew there would be marks tomorrow. She pulled you down so tight onto her face if you’d been thinking straight you would have been worried about suffocating her but all you could think about was the way your pussy was clenching around her fingers, how her hot mouth felt on your cunt and the noises of Emily fucking her harder and faster with each time you ground down onto her face.

“Oh my god…oh my god…” you weren’t sure how much longer you were going to be able to stay upright, your hips jolting as pleasure soared through your body.  Your hands scrambled to catch yourself on the mattress, clawing at the bedspread as Jackie continued to hold you down, her fingers fucking into you faster as what you thought was your oncoming orgasm suddenly resurged up again, building even higher and hotter under your skin until she sucked on your clit again and you cried out, thighs shaking around her head.

Your entire body shuddering you were finally able to break free from her grasp, collapsing down onto the bed beside her with your chest heaving as she panted, a sly grin on her lips as she was more than satisfied with her work.

“That’s it sweet girl.” Emily praised, her hands soothing up Jackie’s thighs as the other woman was able to fully focus on her pleasure.

“Fuck…harder… please.”

Emily’s hips rocked forward, a particularly sharp thrust that had Jackie gasping for air and you chuckled softly, rolling onto your stomach to cage her into the bed. Your lips caught hers, tongue dipping into her mouth to suck your own juices off her tongue, swallowing down each others moans. Giving her a chance to breathe, your mouth made its way down her neck, sucking and biting into the crook of it while she let out more noises.

“God,” Emily groaned, “you look so fucking good taking my cock. Such a pretty girl.”

Jackie could do nothing but whine in response, her senses on fire at the multiple touches against her skin. Your free hand quickly sunk between her legs, beginning to play with her clit in the same speed Emily was fucking her, alternating between pressing hard or rubbing softly.

“Can feel you trembling baby.” You murmured into her neck before biting down hard and she groaned, her hips launching up off the bed. “You gonna come for us? Let us see how fucking hot you look?”

“Fuck.” She muttered, “s-close.”

“Mmhmm.” Your tongue swiped at the already darkening mark on her skin before sucking at it again and she whimpered.

Emily’s hand was suddenly on top of yours, pressing down even harder against Jackie’s clit, urging you to rub faster and she circled her hips again. The small circle along with the combined pressure of both of your hands was all it took for Jackie to be crying out, her body shaking as it jolted off the bed and she hit her peak. Your hand softly trailed up her body as you gently kissed across her skin, finger tips drawing patterns while she panted.

“That’s it…” you cooed, “so good for us.”

“Such a pretty girl.” Emily murmured, her hips slowing and she fully sunk into Jackie one last time, holding there for a moment, “takes it so well even from two at once.”

“Mmhmm.” You nodded, placing a gentle kiss on her collarbone, “kinda gives me ideas.”

“Really?” Jackie asked breathlessly, her eyes cracking open, a small smirk on her lips.

“Ones I just know you’d like.” You teased, leaning over her with a grin and when Emily pulled out you capture her lips in a kiss, muffling the whine.

Emily disappeared into the bathroom for a minute, no doubt cleaning off the toy leaving it to dry and freshening up, coming back a few moments later wrapped in a fuzzy robe. Opening the mini fridge she picked out a few bottles of water, passing them over to you to take a few sips.

“Christ…” Jackie muttered with a small laugh, “that was not how I expected my night to end.”

“Not expected maybe, but it was what you were hoping for.” You laughed back.

“I told myself I would stay for one drink, just happened to be a lucky one.” She retorted, “I was there for business. Speaking of,” lifting her wrist to check her watch she let out a sigh, pushing up to sitting, “I’ve got an early meeting, I need to get going.” Slipping off the bed, she quickly redressed herself, scooping up her purse before leaning over the bed, leaving a kiss on your lips, “I’ll see you.”

“Mmhm.”

Crossing to Emily she left a kiss on her cheek, “thanks. Here’s hoping to running into you again.”

“Only time will tell.” She smirked, watching as the other woman vanished from the hotel room.

You let out a sigh, finally sitting up from the bed, groaning as you stretched out your body before disappearing into the bathroom. In the short time it took you to freshen up, remove your make up and brush your teeth Emily had ridden herself of the robe, opting to slip under the sheets naked instead. She was about to pick up the remote when you spoke,

“You know… something doesn’t totally feel fair.” You stated as you climbed back into the bed.

“What? That she just gets to leave?”

“No.” You laughed and she caught the devilish gleam in your eye, “you didn’t get come…”

Your hands were on her hips before she even realized it, letting out a quiet shriek as you flipped her onto her back with a wicked grin on your lips. Though there was no time to even think about protesting, your mouth and hands were on her before she could even think, eagerly and very energetically repaying her for all of the pleasure she’d given out that night.

____________________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @scorpsik @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @hopedoesntknow @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx cx @momily @nilaues @borinxnovak @soverign @v3nusxsky @mccdreamys-writes @l4yne @obsessedwjill @supercorpstan97 @asolitaryrose3 @lisqueen @mrs-prentiss @whitewinewithice @d33pd3sire-blog @daffodil-heart @maximoffcarter @i-lovefandom @chimnlex @moonlightjxuregui @chestnutninny @just-moondust @ms-downhill @idkifimasub @gaydragonwitch @doragoy

[thot4ellie]

new romantics pt 2

pairing: MODERN AU!college azriel x female reader

warnings/content: suggestive language, yearning!!! alcohol and drugs mentioned, two love sick idiots, some parts are flashbacks, this is not edited…ill do it later sorry, photos from pinterest

word count: 4.5k

summary: the start of long weekend vacation starts, azriel surprises you and both of you struggle with holding your feelings inside.

authors note: i feel like i use too many of the same words im trying here please! anyways hi part 2 of my azriel fic! i think im gonna write 4 chapters, i’ve already started on part 3 and can’t wait to post! hopefully this weekend, azriel smut coming soon!!!… i am so excited i can’t stop blushing as i write it so! enjoy this part and hopefully i’ll have the next one out soon! thank you for all the likes and comments! i appreciate all the feedback thank you all!

the next friday afternoon, you’re sitting in the last row of the room, fake listening to your english lecture droning out your professors voice with thoughts of azriel. as always. you truly wonder how you manage to keep passing.

this is your last class before a four day weekend, your whole day has just dragged on and frankly, you’re exhausted and just want to go home and do nothing all weekend.

your head has running with thoughts of last weekend all week. its been driving you mad. you’ve never been one at being able to talk about your feelings, like at all. growing up an only child left and never having any more than just a couple friends you knew growing up left you lonely.

but once you became friends with azriel, you just felt like you belonged somewhere. the days you just spend laying around and talking about anything and everything. whether its what some dumbs said in class, the best dad joke you can find to the hardcore shit from your childhoods.

the only thing you could never talk to him about was… him. all you wanted to do was confess to these feelings but yet you haven’t. how can you just admit to your best friend that you’re in love with him.

that’s also something you came to the conclusion to over this week. that you’re in love with him. you thought azriel was driving you mad before you realized this but afterwards… it was so much worse!

when you and nesta finally connected after the party, she for sure entertained your delusions. you told her about everything that happened, leaving out the way he talked to you and held you. that was something you wanted to keep for yourself.

you’re deep in your mind over him, yet again, when you hear a psst from behind you.

and there he was.

azriel peeking his head through the slightly propped door, he grinned when you looked back towards the door to see what was behind you. your eyes grew wide… he’s supposed to be in class right now but you couldn’t even think about that as he stuck his hand and motioned for you to come, there you were making sure your professor was turned to the chalkboard before grabbing your bag and going with him.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

when you got outside your classroom, azriel grabbed your hand and brought you directly to the car. he opened your door and let you in before sitting in himself. your eyes focus on the sight of his scarred hums gripping the steering wheel and all you can think about is that video of the girl saying “you wish that was you huh you wish that was you!”

he’s always done that and it sends butterflies through you every time. once he got in and started driving… away from the direction of your apartment. when you turning to look out the back window, you notice a couple bags in the back seat.

“oh my god az pleasseee tell me where you’re taking me” you groaned pretending to be annoyed at the man in the drivers seat.

he looked over at you again and the sparkle in his eyes just sends you back to when he was staring down at you laying on his chest, cuddled up against him.

he laughed and said, “sorry can’t tell you it’s a surprise.”

you groaned again, even louder this time. “this better be good i missed the rest of the class for this.” you would miss every lecture for this man and he wouldn’t even have to ask.

“oh don’t worry princess, it’s insanely better than whatever that professer was saying… not that you were paying attention to anyway.”

you turned to look at him, mouth open wide and mumbled a shut up. he laughed so hard and then of course you had to laugh, but your eyes couldn’t ignore the way his chest lifted and the muscles in his arms contracted. what you would do to feel him hold you again.

the drive continued with you guys laughing and singing to the playlists on your phone. another thing you guys love to do is to blurt out states on license plates when you see a new one, something that azriel, of course, excels at and seeing them first every time.

about 3 hours later, you pull into a long driveway in the middle of the woods. you didn’t mind the long drive, in fact you and azriel mainly take backroads every time you guys go out just to take in the scenery. the trees and mountains on this drive particularly blew your fucking mind.

“is this where we going?” you ask looking out the window like a little kid, fingers holding on the door. azriel couldn’t help but look over at you as you spoke, his heart swelled at the sight of you.

the way your hair moved from the window open, how your skin gleamed in the sun shining through the windows of his old mustang and the look of utter excitement that coated your face the whole drive.

he doesn’t answer and just keeps driving up the dirt road before your eyes land on a beautiful, old wooden house next to a huge lake. you’re in awe of the masterpiece before you as you notice two cars already in the driveway. you know right away by rhysands honda civic and nesta’s toyota rav4, that everyone is here.

you can’t help but internally scream right now. you can’t believe that azriel has brought you here, and kept it a secret for you don’t even know how long. you look at him, eyes wide and he can’t help the smile that breaks out on his face when you look him.

you smile back at him, even bigger than the one he gave you if possible before your eyes turn to the front door and you see nesta and cassian standing there waving at you to come inside.

you go to open your door but azriel is there doing it for you before you even notice he got out of the car. even though you loved sitting in his car engulfed in the smell of him, you couldn’t wait to get out and spend the weekend here.

you step out azriels car, breath taken away yet again at the view in front of you. nesta is throwing herself into your arms before you even realize, engulfing you in a huge hug.

as she pulls away, you see through the corner of your eye azriel and cassian getting your bags from the car. she grips your hand lightly in yours and starts pulling you towards the house as she asked you about your drive up.

walking inside the house, she let go out of hand and spun around in a circle yelling “TADA” as you both laugh. your eyes dart across the house to the two big L black couches, along with a couple comfy chairs, a fire place along a wall that had shelves covered in books and photos. floor to ceiling windows covered the outside of the house giving you an amazing view of the trees, mountains and lake surrounding the house.

to your left, you see a open wooden kitchen, cabinets littered the walls with a huge two door fridge with a huge kitchen island, covered in different bottles of alcohol. oh yes you guys will be partying it up over this long weekend.

you hear the steps of people behind you, hoping to see azriel again you couldn’t stop staring at him during the drive up. everyone he caught you staring he smiled at you and just kept on driving, like it was perfectly normal. you turn around to see rhys and feyre walking down the staircase next to the entrance way of the house along with azriel and cassian walking into the open front door.

your smile widened as you saw him and you felt nesta jab her elbow into your side and you gave her a glare before she smiled wide at you, before leaving to walk to the kitchen.

you laugh in your head and walk towards azriel to greet everyone, “hi friends!” you said as cassian pulled you into a bear hug. what you didn’t see was cassian give azriel a wink as he embraced you. he pulled away with a laugh before both feyre and rhysand brought you in for a hug.

as they let you go, nesta called everyone to come to the kitchen. they followed but you stayed there as you watched azriel move your bags off to the start of the stairs to take up to your rooms later so you guys can join your friends in the kitchen. he turned around he saw you there watching him. he swears his heart almost explodes out of his chest every time you look at him.

azriel was ready to tell you that he was in love with you. it’s a feeling he refused to admit for years up until a couple months ago. despite not admitting it, deep down he knew what it was, he never had anyone treat him like you did. the way you cared about him and just treated him normal after so many people in his life have just walked on eggshells around him.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

when he met you, he was attached to you from the start. he knew a lot about greek mythology, taking the class was just something fun for him and when you and him got partnered together, he knew it was the beginning to an end. the way his heart started beating faster when you came around, the way his hands got sweaty when you accidentally brushed hands or when your thigh rested against his while sitting next to each other in the library.

cassian and rhysand knew something was up the way azriel came into rhysand’s apartment. the faint blush still on his cheeks, and the smile that didn’t seem to disappear. this had been happening a lot over the past couple weeks when they saw him.

azriel walked in, backpack slung over his shoulder as thoughts of you looking beautiful, sitting across from him at the coffee shop you guys were studying at that night. he didn’t even glance towards the couch until he heard cassian call out to him, “what’s the smile for az?.”

azriel turned towards his brothers, seeing their own smiles painted on. azriel laughed as he walked over and tossed his bag into the chair beside him before taking the seat next to cass.

he swiped a hand over his face and sighed in exaggeration, “what smile?” when he looked towards them, the shit eating grins on their faces said it all. they knew about the unrequited crush he held onto for mor, they knew what his family did to him, all they hoped is that whoever was making azriel smile this much wouldn’t break his heart.

a few weeks later, azriel walked into his own apartment, with you in tow. after he came across you in the elevator, he realized it made spending time together a lot easier. after class one evening, he invited you over one night to join in on movie night with his friends.

he finally told his friends who you were a couple days ago. they couldn’t even remember a time they had seen him talk about something so passionately, rhysand and cassian don’t even think that he registered it. azriel was still insisting that you guys were just friends.

that night was spent watching the jurassic park series. you were so relived walking to his apartment, you were nervous to meet his friends but he assured you everything would be okay and there was nothing to worry about. you loved that about him, sometimes you didn’t even realize how much you stressed yourself out, but every time you spoke it, azriel was there assuring you everytime.

after three movies, four bags of popcorn and a ton of candy, you were starting to doze off. you were so comfortable on the couch surrounded by the way azriel’s apartment smelt.

azriel, who was sitting next to you, noticed that you were getting sleepy and leaned down to whisper in your ear, “hey princess, i’ll walk you down.” you nodded to him with a smile. he stood up and offered you his hand. you guys said your goodbyes and everyone pulled you in a hug. you loved his friends already, nesta especially.

he holds his your soft skin with his own flawed, he could never really get over the way you felt against him. during this point of him liking you, the touch was minimal but he ate it up every time. azriel opened the door and walked out behind you, his hand ever so lightly grazing over the small of your bag where your t-shirt had ridden up.

“but the scene of the t-rex oh my god az,” you laughed lightly as you were exiting the elevator on your floor. he shook his head at you, “no way the scene with the kids in the kitchen was the best in the first one!” he insisted throwing his arms up in exaggeration.

“okay az whatever you say.” you giggle as you approach your door, turning around to face azriel behind you and grab your keys out of your shorts pocket. you look up and meet his eyes as he towers over you. you stand in silence staring at each other before you tear your gaze away, you wonder how long you’d been staring at him like that. he gives you a smile as you look down nervously with your keys in your hand. you turned back to unlock your front door then moved back to face him to say goodnight.

“thank you for movie night az, we have to do it again.” he brings his hand to your cheek and moves a piece of hair that fell into your face from your messy hair clip, he tucks it behind your ear as you look up at him again. “of course, its rhys’s turn next but you can have the one after him.” he said with a laugh as he stepped closer to you. your feelings for azriel were getting worse. it was an innocent crush at first but now… he’s all you could think about. your heart was basically beating out of your chest, your chest almost brushing against yours, you could feel the warmth of his body spreading over yours.

he was pressing against you now as he leaned down, you watched him as his face made it to yours, you were so eager to kiss him but instead he brushes his lips against your ear to whisper, “goodnight sweetheart, ill see you tomorrow,” as he gripped the doorknob behind you and opened the door for you. he leans back and gives you a huge smile as you step back into your apartment, mostly in shock at the way his body felt against yours. you smile back at him before whispering back, “goodnight azriel.” and shutting your door.

azriel is still in front of your door, a few moments longer than he should been after you were in your apartment. he shakes his head with disappointment in himself as he finally walks away. he was so centimeters from your lips and just couldn’t do it. what if you weren’t into him? he didn’t want to press your boundaries, he needed to know this was reciprocated before he did anything.

as much as he wanted to go back there and knock on your door until you opened it, so he could pick you up in his arms, carry you to your bed and fuck you like it was the last night in the world, he just could not.

at least… not yet.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

you don’t even know what time is it now as you all sat outside on the patio behind the house. it overlooked the huge, dark lake with trees covering every inch that surrounded you, not another house in sight. it was incredibly peaceful as you sat on the swinging bench in the corner with azriel, your legs over his lap as you both held drinks in your hand. the sky lit up with stairs as you looked around at your friends talking amongst themselves. you guys spent the day playing drinking and card games. playing cards against humanity with the inner circle was truly a remarkable time. feyre and rhys made homemade pizzas for dinner and they were amazing. you guys laughed for hours and now out on the deck, everyone else sat in chairs around the fire pit as you guys passed a few joints around.

azriel was laughing at whatever cassian said along with rhys while feyre and mor chatted, she showed up halfway one of your card games. amren was nesta sat in the chair next to the bench you and azriel were sitting on as you both sipped on glasses of red wine, talking about the last smutty books you were reading.

as you spoke to her, you couldn’t help by getting distracted at azriel holding the bottom half of your leg with his hand as they rested of his lap while the other one left a glass of whatever they were drinking now. he was just barely moving it back and forth but god it sent chills through your body, it doesn’t help that nests speaking about whatever book she was reading lately as you focused back on what she was saying, trying to get the thought of him touching you farther up out of your mind.

“the slowburn was top tier,” nesta said to you giving you a wink as she sipped her wine, “but oh my god the way they fucked,” letting out a frustrated groan, she shook her head as you both laughed.

“yeah nes, just wait until the sequel, if you thought that was good… you’re in a for treat.” you wiggled your eyebrows at her and laughed. you hear azriel laugh next to you and turn your head towards him. drunk you wants to kick everyone to their rooms and take him, here and now… but alas you’re stuck just staring at the beautiful man in front of you. the way his muscles flex when he laughs, and the way his chest moves. his tattoos peek out of the collar of his shirt and all you wanna do is hold him in your arms.

an hour goes by hanging out by the fire before everyone else else heads to their rooms, leaving you and azriel swinging on the bench smoking another joint. he blows the smoke out in a laugh as you guys talked about the last episode of parks and rec you guys watched. you couldn’t wait to spend the rest of the weekend with him. it just felt a little too natural.

“oh my god duke silver… i just cant,” you laughed as he handed you the joint. azriel laughed, “ron swanson is the best part.” your heart starts beating faster as his hand is now actively rubbing up and down. this bench was surprisingly comfortable but

“along with april,” azriel said and you couldn’t help but agree, they just really are. you hit the joint a few times and pass it back. “okay az, i’m tired now,” you look at him with a small smile on your face. “okay let’s go,” he said with no hesitation. you let out a little laugh and move your legs off his lap, instancing losing the warm of his legs and hands on you.

you guys head into the house and azriel grabbed your bags to carry them up to the 2nd floor of the house, you guys walk down a hallway to the end and he stops in front of the door on right. “here this one is mine and that one,” he said pointing to the one directly across from his, “is yours.” he smiled at you before you turn and open your door as he opened his.

you grabbed your suitcase and carried it into the room and shut the door. you move and find the light switch. locating it, you switch it up and look around the room in front of you. only to find mor asleep on the bed. you quietly groan, out of exhaustion, drinking all day on vacation really takes it out on you. you aren’t close enough with mor so you cant just slide in next to her, so now you’re stuck with your last option.

azriel.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

immediately after entering the room, azriel took a seat on the edge of the bed. his hands still warm from rubbing them on your legs as you sat next to him the whole time. he looked at them, the scars were hard to deal with but never once it did bother you. but they bothered him for some reason, old insecurities and harsh memories all wrapped in something he has to live with everyday.

when his hands are on you, it’s a different story. it’s something he never wants to stop doing. he’s mesmerized by you entirely. he’s in the midst of his thoughts about you when he hears a low knock on the room to his room. he stands up and opens it.

seeing you standing outside his door in the dimly lit hallway, suitcase next to you, hand up about to knock again. he sees you jump at the way he opened the door so fast, not expecting him to be there already.

“hey princess, did you get lost?” azriel said as he leaned on his shoulder against the doorway, a smirk across his tired face.

“mor is asleep in my bed…” you grumble, “can i sleep with you?” you ask him.

a millions are in his head at once. mainly the last time you guys had slept next to each other, the night that he beat the shit out of that guy for touching you, the warm of your body against his, it was like that the entire time. something that he wanted forever. he wanted you in his bed, right now.

with his mind crowded, azriel just nods as he picks up your bag handle and brings your suitcase in the room, shutting the door and locking it behind you after you stepped in.

“thank you az,” you tell him sheepishly.

“you didn’t even have to ask,” he says smiling at you, he points to the other door in the room, “there’s the bathroom so you can get ready for bed.”

“thank you, i’ll be back.” you tell him as you walk towards the bathroom. he watches the door shut behind you, he needs to get himself together before you come out, the thoughts he’s been having all day about you, clothed and naked, where consuming him, yet again.

he realized that you didn’t take anything to the bathroom when he hears the sink turn on. before it’s off, he moves to his own suitcase and grabs a large t shirt he brought and a pair of boxers for you to wear, he loved when you smelled like him. he grabbed out a pair of gray sweatpants for him to change into.

he hears the bathroom door open and looks over to you stepping out. you give him a smile as he watches you walk to suitcase next to his. you pulled out your toiletries bag and were about to pull out your pajamas before azriel had to cut in.

“here you can wear these,” azriel told you, he felt his face grow red, cursing himself for not holding himself together. “thank you az.” his gaze moves down to your lips as you smile at him, taking the clothes from his hand, he feels your fingers brush his. he watches as you turn back around and head to the bathroom to change for bed.

azriel took this time to change into his own sweatpants while he waited his turn for the bathroom. he connected his phone to the tv and put whatever episode of park and recs you guys left off on, leaving it on for background noise and he turned off the light, leaving the room with a small glowing lamp in the corner by the door.

azriel watches the tv from the edge of the bed as he sees you from the corner of his eye come out of the bathroom. dressed in the clothes he gave you, his heart started beating faster.

“i feel like i’ve said thank you a thousand times but thank you again az,” he heard you say as you walked towards him. he looked up to meet your gaze as you stood, almost in between his thighs as he rested his hands on them, “thank you for bringing me here, this place is fucking beautiful- i can’t wait for tomorrow, you’re amazing az thank you,” he feels your hand reach up and hold his cheek, rubbing it thoughtfully over his sculpted cheekbone.

he couldn’t help the way his cheeks heated up under your gaze, “thank you for coming with me, this will probably be a weekend you will never forget,” azriel said with a nervous chuckle, rubbing the sides of your hips.

azriel heads to the bathroom to brush his teeth and go to the bathroom before you guys go to bed. when he comes back, he sees you in the blankets like it’s the most normal thing you’ve ever done. the comforter is pulled up to your chin as your eyes linger on the bathroom door as azriel stepped out.

he moves toward the bed and walks around to the opposite side of the bed, sliding in next to you before he lays on his side, facing your back. the show plays in the background as he watches you turn to face him.

azriel lifts his arm and brushes some of your fallen hair behind your ear as he spoke, “i’m glad we’re here.”

“me too az,” you say quietly.

his hand rests on your cheek before azriel watches you move to cuddle into his chest, just wanting you to be closer to him. he wraps his arm around your body, pulling you closer into his body as he kisses your forehead.

“goodnight princess.”

“goodnight az.”

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

thank you all for the support, love and feedback! here’s the taglist for this! thank you guys so much! comments and feedback are always appreciated

@purple-haired-faerie @thespencerhastings-blog1 @scorpioriesling @kitsunetori @scooobies @elsie-bells @nickishadow139 @lilah-asteria

[hope-you-brought-kneepads-bitch]

And they were strangers

Part 1: And they were roommates

Summary: It’d only been a week since you left but Wanda was a mess and you weren’t doing much better, luckily a friend is here to keep you company and maybe even have a bit of fun with Wanda at the party you guys planned

A/n: Never written for a succubus before but hopefully it’s somewhat correct 🤞

Warnings: Minors DNI, language, sexual innuendos LMK if I missed any

Words: 3,000+

So this was always going to have a part 2 but thank you everyone that wanted a part two and loved the fic, thank you! 🥰

”Wanda you look terrible” Nat nudged her friend awake and Wanda groaned “are we finished?”

Nat nodded “lectures been over for about 20 minutes, but we thought you needed a rest”

“Thanks” Wanda muttered placing her head back on the desk and closing her eyes

“How long has Y/n been gone?”

Wanda snapped her head up glaring at her friend “what?”

“How long has she been gone?”

“Like a week?”

Nat laughed “that makes sense, when she’s not here you always look terrible”

“You’re not making me feel better Natty, get to the point please”

Nat kissed her friend on the cheek and stood up “I don’t think you can survive without Y/n, you need her”

Wanda just rolled her eyes eventually standing up and heading for the door with her “I don’t need a woman to look after me, I’m just going through some things, nothing to do with Y/n”

“Sureeee, are you still having that party this weekend?”

Wanda nodded “yep, need a good party to sort myself out”

******************************************************

“Why are you still here Y/n?” Lucifer himself stood next to the bar watching you drink another alcoholic drink…at 10am “how about you mind your fucking business!” You shouted and the man just pinched his nose and scrunched up his face

“Listen you childish bastard of a demon, I’m sorry your precious human thing decided she wanted to end things with you but it’s been a week and you can’t stay here at the club, your smell is scaring the customers”

You threw the bottle on the ground laughing as it shattered and looked back at Lucifer “deal with it bitch”

You continued laughing until an aroma hit all of your senses wrapping around you like a warm blanket, it was familiar but you couldn’t put your finger on it

“Oh princess what happened? Did you spill the drink? You can’t do anything for yourself can you?”

The aroma was coming from the woman dressed in the white pantsuit who approached you from behind and kissed your head “do you need mommy to take care of you?”

You couldn’t blush, but at that moment you definitely blushed “yeah”

Pepper smiled pulling you from your chair and kissing you softly “come on honey let’s go and run you a bath”

“Will you join me?” You whispered, wanting to be close to Pepper for as long as possible

“Of course, poor baby can’t wash herself on her own, she needs lots of help”

She gently took your hand leading you to the penthouse bathroom and turning on the taps “can you undress yourself or do you need help?

“I can do it” you said starting to undress and the woman excused herself running into the devil

“You’re taking advantage of her Pepper” he said sternly and the woman shrugged “oh come on Lucy it’s fine, I miss playing with the demons,

“I’m pretty sure a succubus uses sexual desires to drain humans of their life force for their own, not with demons”

“Pepper?” Your voice echoed through the door and Pepper kissed the devil on the cheek “humans aren’t as fun anymore, but these demon women want to please and obey, that’s what keeps me going these days”

Turning back to the bathroom door , she removed her blazer and stepped in shutting the door behind her “hey honey look at you, all shy and naked for me, does the water feel nice?”

You couldn’t speak, you weren’t even sure you wanted too, just nodding and letting the woman climb in behind you and pulling you close, your whole body relaxed in her hold, turning your head slightly to rest your head on her chest

“So tell me all about your human friend darling, why doesn’t she want you anymore?”

You groaned and tried going underwater but Pepper stopped you gripping your hair and keeping you above the water “don’t be childish Y/n, you’re over 400 years old, be a good girl and tell me what happened”

You nodded and began explaining “basically she’s dating a guy and he’s a douche and bad at sex because she always came to me at night and then when we finished I’d kiss her softly and soothe her bruises and cuddle her into the late morning”

Pepper listened intently “so she doesn’t appreciate you?”

You shook your head no “I’ve done everything for her and this is how she repays me, I just wanted to steal her away from that douche and keep her for myself, is that too much to ask?”

Pepper shook her head “of course not princess, maybe she doesn’t deserve you, you’re a big brave demon who can get any girl she wants, just remember that”

You did remember that, and you’d make sure Wanda remembered that too

Pepper was having her own inner dialogue too, maybe she’d go and see this human of yours, could be fun “are you going to go back anytime?”

“I think so, there’s a party at our place this weekend, even if I’m mad at Wanda parties are fun”

Your mind started to clear of Peppers influence and you groaned trying to leave the bath but was pulled back “I hate when you do this…”

“Don’t you like calling me mommy? I thought it was your favourite word?” Pepper smirked letting you go and grab a towel for yourself “you know I don’t, anyone tricking me, I only like being babied and taken care of on my terms”

Pepper laughed “you want to be babied?”

You stopped and glared at the woman “don’t repeat that to anyone”

Pepper crossed her hand over her heart “scouts honour I won’t repeat anything” she chuckled

“Better not do”

*******************************************************

“This party’s great Wanda! You did a great job!” Tony Stark shouted to the woman already on his 4th drink and Wanda just chuckled “glad you’re having fun Tony” she waved the man off and turned to look for her friend

“Have you seen Nat?” Wanda scooted through the small crowd asking people if they’d seen her friend but no body had until Thor got her attention “I saw Natalia go to the end of the hallway into a room”

“Thanks Thor!” Wanda realised it was your room she went into “why did she go into her room?” She approached the door hearing a few whispers, she made out one voice being Nat but she couldn’t make out the other until

“Oh Natty you’re so pretty”

“Y/n?!” She shouted and slammed the door open revealing you with Nat pressed up against the wall and your lips connected

“What the hell are you doing here?!” You smugly pulled away from the woman kissing her on the nose and facing Wanda “enjoying the party, it is my house too”

Nat sensing some tension pushed past you gently “where you going Nat?” You asked trying to keep her in place “I think you two need to talk” she left the room and you promised to find her later “I’ll come and find you later love”

You chuckled at the blush creeping up on Nat’s neck and turned back to the seething woman

“You can’t fuck my best friend!”

You just laughed “we’re not teenagers Wanda, I can fuck whoever I want”

“Not my best friend! You leave for like a week, no contact and then come back dressed in nothing but a long blazer and try sleeping with Nat! Who do you think you are?”

You looked down at your outfit, you were clearly wearing trousers, you didn’t know what she was on about “you know I’m wearing trousers right?”

Wanda had had enough pushing you into the wall a getting in your face “why?” She whispered but you refused to answer “please Y/n answer me, why did you leave me alone?”

“He’s here isn’t he?”

“Yes”

“Then go back to him Wanda, go back to your boring boyfriend and leave me alone to have fun” trying to leave you found yourself being held by Wanda and kept against your bedroom wall “do you want something Miss Maximoff?”

Wanda stared at you and you could see the fight she was having in her mind and it made you smirk

“Such a bitch” she sighed kissing you suddenly and you responded kissing her back but quickly stopping pushing her away “you’re not getting me back that easily”

“Why do you make everything so complicated?”

You shrugged pushing her and exiting the room looking for Nat “don’t interrupt us again Wanda, I wanna see her tongue piercing in action!” You laughed watching the colour drain from her face

“Don’t hurt her!”

*****************************************************

Lucifer hated it here, oh he loved a party but this one was gross, too many youngish people grinding against or falling against each other and the cheapest alcohol known to man “Pepper why did you drag me here?”

“Y/n spoke highly of this ‘Wanda’ and I want to meet her for myself”

He rolled his eyes “you mean you want to suck her life-force from her and probably wear her skin?”

“If her skin is nice and smooth then maybe I will” she glanced round the room and noticed a woman resembling Wanda from your description “there” she simply said going over to the woman

“You must be Wanda, wow you’re even prettier than Y/n said” Pepper was definitely in front of the right girl, the amount of tension and anger coming off of her felt amazing and she couldn’t wait to get her hands on her

“I’m sorry but who are you?” Wanda was annoyed and didn’t need this, frankly hot, woman here annoying her “I’m Pepper, you seem tense, maybe I could help you relax”

Wanda pushed her hand away that had found it’s way to her waist without her noticing right away “I’m sorry but I don’t know what Y/n has been saying but I’m not interested, plus I have a boyfriend so bye-

Pepper grabbed Wanda holding her tight and close to her “oh precious little human you’re not going anywhere, Y/n has told me just how special you are and I want to find that out for myself”

Wanda tried moving away but her iron grip on her stopped any movement and it scared her “please I don’t know what you are but please let me go”

Pepper just chuckled in Wanda’s ear making the redhead shiver slightly “I’m your new obsession honey that’s who I am”

A wave of something Wanda couldn’t put her finger on came over her, her whole body went limp and she let herself be held up, she could hear and see but could barley move “there you are princess, perfect”

*******************************************************

You didn’t find Nat again in the house but you suspected she was trying to hide from you, what a shame, you really wanted to test her tongue piercing, standing outside you breathed in a huge breath of fresh air “ugh air is still disgusting”

“I think maybe it’s all the weed and nicotine you consume that makes you hate air” Loki appeared out of the trees like the creep he pretended to be “do you actually live in a house or do you just live in the trees?”

“You’ve seen my house”

You nodded “yep and I stand by what I said, you’d be better living in the trees than that dump of a house anyway, do you have any weed?”

The man shook his head no and you sighed disappointingly “then what good are you?”

The door next to you both slammed open giving you both a freight as two women exited the house, you were surprised to see Wanda and….Pepper? Oh no

“Y/n? What a nice surprise, you were right, Wanda here is a beautiful woman and she’s very excited to show me everything she knows”

You pushed away from the wall and smiled at the succubus “get away from her Pepper”

“Why should I?”

Your looked over Wanda, she was practically unconscious minis a few groans indicating she was still awake “because she looks dead, come on just go and find a human inside and leave this one alone”

Lucifer suddenly appeared before you both and you groaned “fuck me why are you here too?”

Lucifer held his hands up in defence “I didn’t want to be here but Pepper wanted to come and find your human”

You were quick to correct him “she’s not my human anymore I don’t care about her anymore…but just let her go Pepper she’s of no use to you”

“No use? She’s filled with tension and delicious delicious arousal, her thoughts are plagued with images of you doing sinful things, she’s perfect for me to feed from”

Images of you? She was thinking about you? No push that out of your mind you don’t want her anymore, right?

You snapped out of your thoughts and looked back at Pepper, knowing how she worked it was going to be difficult to get Wanda away from her “so she’s thinking of me?”

The succubus smiled “so many thoughts, come on princess how about we both have fun with her? She’s so wavy right now, just how demons like their victims”

You bit your lip and looked away from the woman to Loki who just shrugged “your choice but I’ve dealt with Pepper too and she truly takes everything from you”

Turning back to Pepper you walked towards her and places your arm around Wanda holding her up with Pepper “let’s go back to the club it’s got all those fancy toys I know you like”

Pepper kissed you hard and you reciprocated eagerly momentarily forgetting about your nearly unconscious roommate who you fell out with last week “such a pretty little demon you are, how about you show your full form Hm?” Pepper whispered she pulled away but you shook your head

“That form is for my enemies only Pepper you know that, I would never subject Wanda to that, just come on let’s go, get this over and done with”

****************************************************

Wanda didn’t think she was dreaming but her wavy feelings made her think she was, she felt herself be sat down on a soft mattress and her eyes opened properly to see you fussing with something and you noticed her more awake stance

“Don’t scream and don’t move a damn muscle okay Wanda? I’m trying to save you here because if I don’t then you’ll be succubus food and trust me it’s not pleasant”

Wanda gave a gentle nod laying back into the mattress closing her eyes and hearing another woman come into the room “is she ready Y/n?”

“No she’s knocked out Pepper, it’ll be wrong to do anything with her now”

The woman groaned and rolled her eyes “you’ve gone soft, but fine we can have fun with her tomorrow, I did have a small fill from a human at the party.

Pepper kissed you softly and turned to Wanda kissing her head “see you tomorrow sweet girl”

Pepper left the room and it was silent for a few minutes, Wanda finally waking up properly and sitting up on the bed looking at you “Y/n, thanks I-I thank-

“Don’t start Wanda, I’ll get you out of here take you home then leave you alone”

You refused to look at Wanda as you went around the room picking up Wanda’s shoes that Pepper had taken off

“Don’t leave me…” she whispered and you stopped in your tracks “I’m not, I’m taking you back to the house”

“Please move back in, I’ll break up with Vision I miss you so much” her voice broke your none existent heart, you chanced a look at her face now stained with fresh tears and you felt awful

“Wanda we’re not talking about it now, I’m just going to get you out of here that’s it”

Wanda wiped her face from tears realising they weren’t going to make you stay, she remained quiet when you took her away from the club and she remained quiet all the way home, the only time you spoke to her was when you arrived outside the house and noticed the party still happening

“Fucks sake don’t these humans ever go home?”

You started the car again heading off down the street and Wanda looked over at you “I’m not leaving you here with a bunch of alcoholics”

“Where are we going?” She whispered “Loki’s place, he’s not in I think he wants to sleep under the stars or some shit, we can stay there”

“You’re staying too?”

“Obviously I’m not leaving you alone tonight, you were nearly seduced by a succubus, even I’m not immune to her charms so I’m surprised you’re still standing”

Wanda giggled “a powerful demon like you seduced easily? That’s funny”

You rolled your eyes but let out a little laugh “yeah well, despite her being a soul sucking bitch she’s very hot”

You both laughed erasing any tension that was left in the car, the silent drive was no longer awkward so Wanda took a chance “do you still like me?”

The car stopped outside Lokis house and you looked over to Wanda “Wanda…Wanda I love you, unfortunately that douche bag got to you first, I have loved you ever since I came up to earth and saw you wondering around the college library, ever since you accepted me as your roommate and even when you found out I was demon and you weren’t scared and it made my nonexistent heart sore”

You both had gotten so close that you could smell her intoxicating scent “kiss me Y/n” Wanda didn’t wait for an answer leaning foreword kissing you, it was soft, the softest kiss you’d both shared in a while, it didn’t last long but you both felt every emotion put into it

“You need to recover Wanda let’s go inside” leaving the car quickly your opened Wanda’s door for her and helped her out of the car holding her around the waist keeping her body close to your own “join me in bed?”

You shook your head “no, but I’ll stay by your side all night keeping you safe”

“And in the morning?”

Kissing her cheek you kept your lips close to her ear “then you go back to boyfriend and I go back to the club”

Wanda but her lip holding back some tears and nodded “o-okay”

“Good night Wanda”

“Good night Y/n

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

pleaser part 4 pls 🙏🙏🙏

Hiiii! I hope you like it!

Sorry I left it on a cliffhanger again but I'll have the next part this weekend if anyone wants it!

Also, I'm sorry it took so long for me to write this, but I literally had almost 20 requests in my ask box for it. HOPEFULLY it doesn't suck😭

AND I STG BAD IDEA, RIGHT?(Part 4) IS STILL COMING! I'm struggling to get the end just right lmao.

Pleaser - Stepbrother!Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader - Part 4

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Summary: You're still sneaking around with your stepbrother, and it's looking like you have the chance to actually be together with your mom and his dad splitting up.

Contains: p in v, fingering-ish, thigh riding, stepcest but like...your mom and Ethan's dad aren't really together anymore so is it really that bad💀(I know I'm probably missing something but if I read this again, I'll delete the whole fucking thing lmao)

A/N: There's a lot of dialog in this fic, even the smut. If that's not your thing, don't read it:)

After a couple weeks of you sneaking around with Ethan, you started to get a little reckless. You knew how close you were to leaving for college, and you knew the odds of your mom sending you away at the last minute weren’t very high. It got to the point where he was sneaking through your bedroom window every night because you didn’t want to sleep without him. Then, he’d have an alarm set to wake up before Wayne and your mom would get up for work and go back to his room.

The situation between your mom and his dad seemed to be civil, even though Wayne had to sleep on the couch while he tried to find a house. He even contemplated getting an apartment for him and Ethan while they figured it out, but your mom was adamant that it wasn’t a big deal. As irritated as she was over the situation, she didn’t feel right for Ethan to bounce from place to place right before he was leaving for college anyway.

You were sure that your mom had no idea that you were still spending time with Ethan, but she started to notice little things. The flirty glances, the sneaky subtle touches. But what really let her know that you’d found a way to spend alone time with Ethan was when you were helping her make dinner, like you always did, and you put your hair up to get it out of the way. She saw the huge purple mark on the nape of your neck, and she realized that you had no idea it was even there once Ethan walked into the kitchen to see what was for dinner, and his eyes grew wide the second he saw it. He motioned for you to put your hair back down, your cheeks turning bright red. You thought she didn’t notice because she didn’t say anything, but she was planning to later that night after dinner.

Just like clockwork, you and Ethan excused yourself to go to bed right after dinner was over. He was crawling through your bedroom window as you walked over to cut the lights off, your room only lit by the moonlight that was pouring through the window before Ethan closed it and drew the curtains shut.

As you crawled in bed with him, he couldn’t keep his hands off you. Your back was pressed to his chest as your legs were spread for him, his fingers rubbing over your panties as he placed open mouth kisses along the side of your neck.

“You’re so hard,” you said, as your ass was pressed against his cock that was straining in his boxers.

“You always do this to me,” he mumbled against your neck. “I want to fuck you so bad right now.”

“You can,” you whispered, as he slid your panties to the side.

“You think you can be quiet?” he asked, a gasp slipping past your lips as he slid one of his fingers inside you.

Before you could say anything else, you heard a light knock on your door before it eased open. Ethan pulled his hand away from you as you closed your legs. You both froze in fear as you saw the silhouette of your mom as she made her way inside your room.

“Are you still awake?” she whispered, as she tried to navigate through the darkness of your room.

“Yeah, I was almost asleep. Just don’t cut the light on,” you said, your anxiety creeping up as she sat down on the foot of your bed.

“We need to talk about you and Ethan,” she said softly, “I know you’ve still been sneaking around.”

Ethan was trying to be as still as possible as he laid beside you. He was so thankful for your blackout curtains, and how you really couldn’t see anything in the room.

“I know you’re probably going to try to deny it, and I don’t want you to lie to me right now. Please be honest with me,” she said, as you took a deep breath.

“When am I going to dads?” you asked, confirming her suspicions without actually admitting to it.

“Do you love Ethan?” she asked, as you tensed up. You hadn’t said those three words yet, and you knew she was just trying to have girl talk with you to know where your feelings were, but you didn’t want to tell her when he was right behind you. “I think he loves you. He looks at you like it’s way more than just some fling.”

“It’s not just some fling,” you said, as you felt Ethan's hand rubbing against the back of your thigh. “I guess I do have really strong feelings for him.”

“I know I was upset when I first found out about the two of you, but I really like him. I’ve seen a different side of him since the weekend that Wayne and I went on our little trip,” she said, as she started to laugh to herself. “You know he used to annoy the shit out of me.”

“He’s actually really sweet,” you said, as his hand just kept moving.

“I’m not going to send you to your dads…and I think I’ll ask Wayne and Ethan to take the cameras down. They don’t really seem to be serving a purpose,” she said, “But, don’t think that I’m okay with the two of you going crazy. I don’t want to walk in here one morning and see him in your bed or something.”

“I’m not that stupid,” you mumbled, “But I’m really tired. Can we talk more about this tomorrow?”

“Of course, honey. Get some sleep,” she said, as she stood up to make her way towards the door. “If you want, we can go get stuff for your dorm tomorrow. Ethan can come, too.”

“Cool, I’ll ask him about it in the morning,” you said, as she opened the door and walked out, quietly closing it behind her.

You and Ethan laid in silence for a few minutes to give your mom plenty of time to go to bed, but he still snaked his arm around you to hold you close.

“Did she just give you permission for us to be together?” he whispered in your ear.

“I think so,” you said, smiling at the thought of it. “I’m sorry if she made things awkward.”

“I think the only awkward part was me being in the bed with you and she had no idea,” he said as he softly laughed against your neck. “Are you talking about the feelings stuff?”

“Yeah…I know we haven’t really discussed that yet. I didn’t know what to say.”

“Do you have really strong feelings for me like you said?” he said, as his hand ran up your thigh.

“I do,” you said softly.

“Good, because your mom was right…about me loving you.”

“You love me?” you asked, as he nodded his head against you.

“I have since we were left alone for the whole weekend.”

You adjusted on the bed so you were facing him, your legs tangling with his as he held you close.

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” you questioned, as he sighed.

“It’s a complicated situation. I didn’t want to say it until I knew we actually had a chance to be together.”

“I love you, too, babe,” you said, as you leaned up to kiss him. You started to laugh against his lips once you felt how hard he still was, his cock brushing against you. “You’re still hard.”

“I told you; the idea of getting caught is my kink,” he mumbled against your lips. “You still want me to fuck you?”

“Mhm.”

He connected his lips to yours again, his hand running over the curve of your ass as he rubbed his cock against you. You were getting more wet by the second, the anticipation building as his tongue moved across your bottom lip. He moved his leg so his thigh was pressed against your pussy, as you started to grind against him, gasping at the friction on your clit.

Your breathing got heavier as you kept moving your hips, and once his hand on you ass was helping you move faster, you were trying so hard to be quiet. He started to groan once he felt how wet you were, your panties completely soaked as you rubbed against him.

“You think you could cum like this?” Ethan said, his tone teasing as his hand went to your hip to hold you down harder against him.

“Oh fuck,” you whimpered, as he softly laughed.

You reached between the two of you to palm him over his boxers, as he helped you move. He attached his lips to yours again to keep quiet himself, because his cock was throbbing so hard as your hand moved over the fabric. He wanted to fuck you so bad, but he wanted you to fall apart over his thigh in between your legs first.

You were whimpering into the kiss as you felt yourself start to get close. He pulled his lips away from yours, his bottom lip in between his teeth as he helped you move as fast as you could.

“Oh my god,” you said, your voice strained as he helped bring you closer to the edge.

“Try to be quiet, baby,” he said, his voice raspy as your legs started to tremble.

“I can’t,” you panted, “Fuck, we’re gonna get caught.”

“No, we’re not,” he said, as he leaned down to kiss you, hard. His mouth caught all the sounds you were trying to hard to hold in as your orgasm hit, your hand still shakily rubbing over his cock.

The grip he had on your hip loosened as you slowed down, your moans turning to soft whimpers as you started to relax against him.

“That was so hot,” he said against your lips, as your breathing started to slow.

“Now, I need to make you cum,” you said softly, reaching into his boxers to pull his cock out.

He let out a low moan once you started stroking, paying extra attention to his sensitive tip.

“Try to be quiet, baby,” you teased, “You want me to suck it?”

“I need to be inside you,” he said, “I want to feel your pussy.”

“Okay, let me grab a condom,” you said, untangling your legs from his before you rolled over to reach into your nightstand.

“I still think it’s funny that you don’t hide them under your bed anymore,” he said, chuckling as you reached into the almost empty box.

“What’s the point? My mom knows I’m not a virgin now,” you shrugged, as you felt him move closer to you, his hand pulling you towards him so your back was against his chest again.

“I can’t believe she thought you were just so innocent,” he said, as his lips went to your neck again, his hand running under the big t-shirt you were wearing. He squeezed your breast, a soft moan slipping past your lips at the feeling.

“I am innocent,” you said, your words making him squeeze you harder.

“You’re far from innocent…especially when you’re in bed with me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, playing dumb as you moved so your ass was firmly pressed against his cock.

“Keep that shit up and you won’t be able to be quiet,” he playfully warned, as he started to suck on your neck.

You moaned at the feeling as his hand moved to your hips, hooking your panties under his thumb as you adjusted to make it easier for him to slide them down. You passed him the condom, your anticipation building as you heard him open it. He rolled it on and grabbed your leg, spreading them open so it’d be easier for him to slide inside of you.

“Don’t be loud,” he reminded you, as he started to push inside you.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, feeling him stretch your walls.

“Shh, you can take it.”

Once Ethan was all the way in, he stilled to give you time to adjust, but that wasn’t what you wanted. You started to move your hips, giving your pussy the friction it was craving. He groaned at your actions as his hand started to roam under your shirt again.

“You gonna help me out or not?” you asked, once you’d been moving for a little bit and he wasn’t.

“I want you to beg me for it,” he said, as you kept moving.

“Please?” you asked, as he chuckled.

“Not good enough,” he teased, “Tell me how bad you want it.”

“So fucking bad,” you said, as his hand moved to your hip. “I need you to fuck me, please baby.”

He started to move, but it was so slow. He was helping you meet his thrusts, the tip of his cock hitting that spot every single time, but you needed so much more.

“Ethan,” you whined, as he shushed you. “Please.”

He didn’t know how quiet you were going to be, but he couldn’t hold back anymore. He started giving you hard, deep thrusts, as your hand slapped over your mouth. The grip he had on your hip was getting tighter, as your free hand started to grip at the sheets. He placed kisses along your neck as he started to whisper in your ear.

“You take my cock so well.”

“Your pussy is perfect.”

“I’ve got you.”

He knew you were getting close, the sounds muffled by your hand just getting louder as he started to go faster.

“Keep moving your hips, baby.”

You did as he said, his hand leaving your hip to rub fast circles against your clit. You were whimpering as your toes started to curl, your entire body getting hot as he brought you closer to your orgasm.

He let out a low groan when your pussy started to clench him, his fingers pressing even harder as he rubbed your clit. Your body started to arch against him as you cried out against your palm, your eyes rolling back as the intense euphoric feeling washed over you.

“Gonna cum,” he panted, as his hand went back to your hip, his cock giving you a few more hard thrusts before his grip on you got shaky. “Fuuuck.”

You both laid there, the only sounds in the room were the heavy breathing coming from the two of you until it started to return to normal. He slid out of you and crawled off the bed to navigate around the darkness of your room to the trash can to dispose of the condom before he laid back down and wrapped his arms around you. You soon dozed off with Ethan’s head nuzzled against your neck.

The next morning, you woke up with Ethan’s arms still wrapped around you. You reached over to your nightstand to check your phone, your eyes growing wide once you noticed that Ethan didn’t set his alarm.

“Babe, wake up,” you said, your hand shaking his arm as he sleepily mumbled. “Ethan, it’s almost eight.”

“Fuck,” he whispered as he sat up and jumped out of bed. “Where’s my sweatpants?”

He walked over to your curtains to let a little light in so he could see, his heart pounding in his chest one he noticed your mom working in the flower bed right outside of your window. The moving curtains caught her attention, and when she glanced up, she saw Ethan quickly trying to close them.

“Your mom’s out there,” he whisper-yelled, feeling around on your floor until he finally found his sweatpants.

“Did she see you?” you questioned, jumping off the bed to put your pajama bottoms on.

“Fuck, I don’t know,” he said, “I’m so stupid.”

You tried to think of a plan, but once you heard the front door open, you walked over to your bedroom door and eased it open to see your mom walk in.

“Out the window, now,” you said, rushing him as he did what you said.

Once he was out of your room and you closed the window behind him, you turned around to walk back to the door to see your mom standing there.

“Maybe we do need to look into you going to your dads.”