#i just had a conversation about it with an older co-worker

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

(also maybe put what generation you are in the tags?)

[sayruq]

Dr. Tanya Haj-Hassan, a pediatric intensive care physician who works with Médecins Sans Frontières and co-founded @GazaMedicVoices, has emerged as one of the most prominent voices raising the alarm about the hell Israel has created for Gaza’s healthcare workers. Mary Turfah: Yesterday, I came across a report of a third mass grave unearthed at Al-Shifa Hospital. One month ago, as the first mass graves there were being uncovered, you were interviewed by Sky News. The anchor cited Israeli military sources saying that they had detained “hundreds of Hamas militants” within the complex, then asked you what you thought of that. Could you speak to your response to him, and to this persistent obsession with “militants at Al-Shifa,” when not a single hospital in Gaza has been spared, and when there have been mass graves [seven in total to date] uncovered at multiple hospitals in Gaza? Tanya Haj-Hassan: Yeah. I think my response was something to the effect of, I can’t believe we’re still having this conversation. Everybody from a medical or humanitarian background is so sick of having to respond to these atrocious, preposterous justifications that are being provided for things that are never justifiable. I thought the Hamas and Al-Shifa question was buried a long time ago. There were several weeks where that’s all we were asked about in interviews. There were multiple investigations done that concluded no credible evidence existed to justify the attacks on Al-Shifa. And then, Al-Shifa was targeted again, besieged again. Then, eventually, Al-Shifa started functioning again. The staff were so proud of the fact that they got it functioning again. That second time, the hospital was again besieged and targeted. A lot of the staff were taken out into the courtyard of the hospital, where the male staff were stripped. Israeli soldiers beat several of the healthcare providers. A very, very senior person at Al Shifa, an older doctor, was eventually released and came on foot to Al-Aqsa Hospital. And immediately, he went back to work. I was at Al-Aqsa Hospital when he turned up disheveled, beard down to here, exhausted, having lost I don’t know how many kilos, hadn’t seen his family for five months, didn’t have a phone, didn’t have proper shoes, didn’t have proper clothes. They fled with basically nothing. And many of the other healthcare providers who were taken outside with him were abducted. I think his testimonies of what happened and the amount of work they had put into getting Al-Shifa functioning again made the question of the Sky News anchor even more infuriating. Because that’s the reality I had just come out of, and to hear him then ask a health professional who had spent the last few weeks resuscitating dead and dying children that have been maimed to an extent that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget—even though I think for my own well-being, it would probably be good if I would forget some of those images—I found it so insulting. Insulting to me, to the healthcare providers who had risked their lives to stay at Al-Shifa, who had lost 25 percent of their body weight, who were exhausted. Insulting to the health care providers who had been killed at Al-Shifa, fleeing from Al-Shifa, to the civilians who were executed there. It’s insulting to our intellect. It’s insulting to humanity

MT: Last week, it was revealed that Dr. Adnan Al-Bursh, a renowned orthopedic surgeon in Gaza, was tortured to death inside of Israeli prisons, according to eyewitness testimony, after he had been abducted from the hospital where he was providing life-saving care, back in December. Hundreds of medical workers have been killed to date, and many more injured. You said in one interview that doctors and healthcare workers are changing out of their scrubs before leaving the hospital so that they’re not targeted. On top of this, the doctors in Gaza have been working basically nonstop for 215 days. As someone who has worked in Gaza, I was wondering if you could say a bit about what your colleagues are facing day-to-day. THH: I want to start with the abduction of healthcare workers, because it’s so underreported, to the point where myself and my colleagues, medical providers working our own jobs, are doing the investigative work. They’re systematic. There have been at least 240 abductions documented by our group— MT: 240?! THH: At least 240, and I’m not talking about what’s reported by the Ministry of Health, which I believe is an even higher number. We documented that at least 240 healthcare workers have been abducted and detained by Israeli forces, the majority of whom have not been released. And the ones who have been released are providing testimonies of torture, of themselves but also the torture that they’ve witnessed. I’ve taken testimonies. One, a three-hour-long testimony about the torture inflicted on [my friend,] a nurse, for 53 days in custody, accusing him of being part of Hamas, of his family being part of Hamas, even though the fact that he was released tells you he wasn’t part of Hamas. Given the extent to which he was tortured, I’m surprised that he survived. And he has not survived with his physical and mental health intact. He has scars, he has nightmares. He had hematuria, so bleeding when he urinated, for weeks after he was released.

Please read this interview as it sheds light on the horrors doctors, nurses, and other medical workers in Gaza have endured

[withahappyrefrain]

Deserve it (Bob Floyd x reader)

Summary: After working hard, your boyfriend gives you several rewards.

Warnings: older BF Bob, slight daddy kink, definitely some dd/lg vibes in here, older BF Bob eats it from the back okay, fingering, language

“Hey sweet girl,” his voice was deep, the gravel showing off his age. The very sound made your knees nearly buckle.

Not that you had to worry about falling; Bob already had one arm wrapped around your waist, the other draped around your leg, long fingers gently tracing the soft flesh of your bare thigh.

His broad chest was pressed against your back, salt and pepper stubble gently brushing against your temple.

Despite feeling so small in his arms, you had never felt more secure.

When Natasha invited you to her co -worker's barbeque a year ago, you knew it was done out of politeness. You had just moved to the area and her sister, your best friend, wanted to make sure you were actually going out and meeting folks. Nat was doing you a favor, nothing more or less.

You just wanted to get through that night, to beat your anxiety over being the youngest person there by nearly a decade. The most you were expecting that night was a few conversations and drinks.

Meeting a real life prince charming that night was not on your Bingo card.

At first, you thought Bob was just being a good host as he spoke to you. That was the polite thing to do, considering he was in his late thirties and you were just a friend of a friend.

Even when he asked for your number, you tried to be realistic. You had been led on before, had placed your whole heart in someone just to be disappointed.

A year later, Bob had more than proved he was serious about his relationship with you. The age difference didn't make a huge impact, aside from childhood references and social media knowledge.

Bob was patient. He understood you hadn't been in a serious relationship until he came along. He was more than happy to guide you, never making you feel stupid or unworthy.

“Hi Robby,” you giggled, feeling his skin heat up at your special nickname. Only you got to call him that, just like only he got to call you his sweet girl.

Bob continued peppering your jaw with light kisses, his large hands continuing to gently stroke your exposed skin.

“How was your day? Did your presentation go well?” His attention to detail was one of the things you loved most about Bob. He was invested in all aspects of your life.

“It did! They're going with my proposal.” It was impossible to hide your wide grin, especially when Bob spun you around to show the matching one on his face.

You only saw that slightly crooked, honey drenched smile for a brief moment, as Bob pressed his lips against yours.

Despite dating for a year, his kisses still made your heart flutter. His hands would cradle your jaw, practically covering the entirety of your neck. He always bent his knees, not wanting you to strain yourself while trying to reach his lips, your comfort always at the forefront of his mind.

“Knew they would,” He murmured against your lips, “So proud of you, my smart girl.”

Your knees practically buckled at the praise. Some would have felt it was condescending, you disagreed. You loved that Bob was proud of you. In fact, you wanted it, wanted to be his good girl.

“Stay here, wanna show ya something.” Bob pressed a gentle peck to your lips before walking out of the bathroom.

You bit your tongue, holding back a comment about Bob buying you things. It was a battle you'd never win. Bob spent his money on you and Lego sets, and that was how he preferred it.

So when he showed you the tennis bracelet he had purchased, you just smiled. No comment on how his money would have been better spent elsewhere.

“May I?” He motioned to your wrist. You held it out so he could gently place it on your wrist. While it was simple, you knew the diamonds would sparkle once you were in light.

Once the bracelet was secure on your wrist, you threw your arms around Bob’s neck, head buried in his broad chest.

“Thanks Daddy.”

You could hear him sharply inhale through his nose, the nickname always drawing a visible reaction out of him.

“‘Course baby,” his hands moved from your back down to your hips, “Did you eat breakfast today?”

You nodded proudly, “And lunch!”

Bob dipped his head down to press a kiss on your forehead, “Been so good today sweet girl. Think you deserve a reward for it.”

You looked at your bracelet, confused, “I thought this was-”

Bob shook his head, a near Cheshire like grin on his face, “That's just because I wanted to. So tell me sweet girl, do you want a reward?”

You tentatively nod your head, heat flooding your face, “yes please.”

He's pleased that he didn't have to remind you to use your words. Bob places one last kiss to your temple before spinning you around, forcing you to face the bathroom counter.

Without even thinking, you lean forward, your chest brushing against the marbled counter.

Bob hums in approval. You've learned quickly.

He quickly kneels down, his large hands trailing up your bare thighs. He's able to effortlessly spread your legs apart, pushing up the hem of your skirt to reveal your bare cunt.

“Been such a good listener baby. So proud of you,” he cooed, holding back a chuckle at how your legs trembled at the praise.

You were so sweet, always wanting to be good for him. It had taken you some time, the idea of being with someone who truly loved you and wanted the best for you was a new concept.

You shuddered upon feeling his breath against your core. Unable to see him, all you can rely on is touch. His deft fingers gently parted your soaked folds, sending sparks throughout your body.

Your body lurched forward when Bob's mouth made contact with your entrance.

Prior to Bob, you didn't know someone could be so enthusiastic when it came to giving oral. It was always seen as something required before sex, not an act that could be enjoyed on its own.

Then you met Bob.

Bob, who cared about your pleasure more than his own. Bob, who didn't view sex as a thing, but as an experience.

The bathroom quickly filled with your breathless moans. Your chest was pressed against the counter, your soaked cunt completely at the mercy of Bob’s mouth. His large hands gripped the soft flesh of your ass, sure to leave bruises.

Not that you mind. Having a physical reminder that you belonged to him was thrilling. You quickly learned that Bob loved marking you, nearly bordering on an obsession. Hickies, hand shaped bruises, bite marks. He couldn't get enough of your body.

“Taste s’good, s’fuckin sweet,” Bob groaned inbetween lapping up your arousal. A large hand snuck around the front of your body, long fingers quickly finding your clit.

Your hand found the back of his head, clutching his sandy brown locks in hopes it would be enough to ground you. His mouth felt like heaven. Each stroke of his tongue pushes you further and further away from clarity and closer to that pleasurable edge.

“C-close,” you gritted through your teeth. You didn't need to ask him permission, but knew Bob wanted to know when you were near.

He loved to watch you fall apart.

Just as expected, his mouth was replaced by his fingers, your cunt welcoming the stretch. His breath was hot on your ear as he was now leaning over you.

“So pretty like this,” he cooed, “I know, you're so close. Just let go sweet girl, I got ya.”

You gripped the edge of the counter as white hot pleasure coursed through your body.

Bob watched you in the mirror, memorized by how your body reacted to his nimble fingers.

What a long way you had come. At the beginning of this relationship, you were hesitant to allow him to see you in such a vulnerable state, to have him hear you let out such lewd sounds. You would ask for the lights to be off, would have buried your head into the pillow to muffle your sounds.

Now you felt safe to fully let go, to show him all of you.

“There ya go, that's it.” His voice was soothing, a sharp contrast to how his fingers were thrusting in and out of your soaked entrance, “Comin’ so hard for me, sweet girl. Fuckin’ love it.”

His hand continued its ministrations on your poor cunt, his lips ghosting over your temple. Your body leans into his, craving more.

Before Bob, the idea of coming twice in the same session was preposterous. Unrealistic.

Now it was the bare minimum.

This time when you came, your legs shook, your brain practically blacking out from the pleasure. You could hear how hard you were coming, lewd squelching sounds vaguely ringing in your ears.

“It's okay, I gotcha, Daddy’s gotcha,” He whispered against your hair, wrapping his arms around your waist to help you stand up as you recovered from your high.

“Made a mess,” you mumbled, able to feel how much you came on your inner thighs. But now your head was in a pleasure filled haze, only able to vaguely register that Bob was leading you to bed.

“I know, and I'll clean you up. But I want you to lay down first.” The back of your head gently hits soft pillows, your body melting into the mattress. True to his word, Bob returns with a warm washcloth, gently wiping you down.

“You wanna take a nap, sweet girl?” he murmured in between pressing gentle kisses against your forehead.

“But dinner-” you started, only for Bob to gently shush as he helped you out of your skirt.

“I'll move it back. You had a big day, you deserve to rest.”

“Robby?” You hummed, opening your eyes to find him helping you into one of his old T-shirts.

“Whatcha need, baby?” He asked, brushing your hair out of your face.

“Can….can I keep you warm? While we nap?”

This time it was his turn to blush. Bob nodded, quickly moving to take off his pants and boxers, laying down on the bed. He didn't need any help, watching you come twice had made him hard enough.

With his help, you were able to move into his lap, your hand finding the base of his cock, wrapping a hand around it so it could align with your entrance.

A content sigh left your lips upon being filled with his cock. You laid your head against his chest, your breathing slowing down as Bob traced shapes on your back.

You were always amazed by how well he filled you. So full, unlike anything you had experienced before.

Without thinking, your hips began to lazily grind against his, the movement causing his cock to shift inside you.

Two large hands gripped the soft flesh of your hips, stilling your movements.

“Later,” Bob said, eyes still closed, “Want you to rest now sweet girl.”

He was far from done with you. But Bob also knew you would need your energy for later.

Besides, good girls deserve a nap.

And you were his best girl.

------------------------------------------

@lewmagoo @sometimesanalice @charmedkim @thepurplelovewitch @sio-ina-bottle @sugajar @briseisgone @idontcare-11 @cherrycola27 @auroralightsthesky @ryebecca @bobfloydsbabe @hangmanapologist @sebsxphia @mxgyver @callsignspark

[deathbyday]

-'⁠🫧*⁠.⁠✧ MOUTHWASHING ✧.⁠*⁠🫧'⁠-

P3

“How could we end up here…?”

Daisuke x implied F!Reader

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Written By: DeathByDay

(Also written on Mobile)

————

3 MONTHS LATER

You sat in the medical room, squirming in attempt to get comfortable on the small red chair. Anya sat across from you, paper in one hand, pen in the other. You were in your pajamas while she was still in her uniform. She hands you the two items before speaking.

“This is just a psych eval to see how you’re doing while working in the Tulpar with us. Then, you can head to bed.” She gives you a soft smile, easing any doubt that this was for something bigger. You hesitantly nod before glancing down at the paper, looking at the questions.

You’ve asked previously before to do it in silence, rather than her asking you the questions and you answering them. You opened up better that way, you said.

Question 1.

“How has the captain been treating you?”

You think for a moment, trying to recall any moments you’ve spoken with Captain Curly. You scribbled the word ‘fine’ down, keeping your answers short.

Question 2.

“Have you had any problems with any of your co-workers in crew 5?”

You paused. You didn’t know if you exactly had a problem with anyone, but you knew you had a few uncomfortable situations with one of them. You wrote; ‘I’ve had a few moments with Jimmy where he seemed strange”.

Question 3.

“How has working with crew 5 impacted your performance working in the space industry?”

You kept a soft expression on your face, thinking about how fun it is to hang out with your crew mates. You put down; “they’ve impacted me by including me in their work and conversations, which I think made my performance improve.”

You continue writing answers to the questions, casually glancing up at Anya from time to time. She rests on the chair, patiently waiting for you to be done. She didn’t rush you, which you were grateful for.

Question 10.

“If you were given the opportunity to quit working with crew 5, would you take that chance?”

You blink, wondering why this was a question. You scribbled down the word ‘No’ without hesitation. You lift your head, passing the paper and pen back to the older woman. She took it from you with care, placing the paper in front of her and the pen in the pen holder.

“Am I done?” You mutter, your voice soft. The calm silence of the medical room made you feel at ease, knowing that once you step out of this room you won’t feel the same way. Anya turned her head back to you and nodded, sending you on your way.

You stood up, giving her a slight wave before walking out the door. You felt exhausted. Obviously you’ve felt this way for a while, but never this bad. You sniffle, feeling like you could melt through the cracks of the floor as you drag your feet, making you way towards your crush’s room in the sleeping quarters.

You don’t know if you could call it a crush, but it was certain that you felt something for that man. You felt your heartbeat get faster whenever you were near him, and you sometimes stumbled upon your words. Typical crush stuff, right?

You rubbed your eyes before knocking on the brunette’s door, wanting to huddle close to him and fall asleep. As embarrassing as it sounds, it’s true. You felt safe with him. You’re pulled out of your thoughts as the door opens, revealing Daisuke in his sleepwear. He also looked like he could fall asleep any moment. Or maybe..

“Oh shit, did I wake you? I’m so sorry!” You immediately apologize, regretting your decision. “H-Here, I’ll go, alright?” You started to step back, only to be stopped by a hand loosely attached to your forearm. The look of panic floods Daisuke’s face before he shook his head.

“No, you’re fine! Please, come in.. I only fell asleep for a few minutes, don’t worry.” He mumbles, attempting to comfort you. You relax against his hold, his eyes softening as he lets you go. His door widens, inviting you in. You accept, stepping into his room. As you did so, his hand lightly glazed yours, causing your fingers to curl around his.

Once he shut the door, you turned around, his hand still in yours. You held it gently as you suddenly felt the urge to risk your friendship in hopes of it becoming more.

“Daisuke, can I ask you a question?” You murmured, staring into his eyes. A soft smile ran across his lips before he spoke. “You already did.” You grumble, not in the mood for his games.

“C’mon, you know what I meant!” You rolled your eyes as he chuckled, dropping his act. “Yeah, yeah. What’s up?” You took a deep breath in, feeling your face heat up from embarrassment. “Do you want to..” You mentally punch yourself in the face as your palm gets sweaty. Maybe holding his hand wasn’t the best choice.

“W-Would you like to be my boyfriend?” You mutter quietly, his ears barely picking up on the words coming from your mouth. The room goes silent for a few seconds as Daisuke registers what you said. You avoid eye contact, fearing his rejection.

He opens his mouth before stuttering, surprised by your confession. “R-..Really!?” His voice is filled with excitement before he grasps both of your hands, holding them in his. “Of course I would.. I’d love to.” Daisuke lets go of you completely before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his grasp.

Relief washes over you as you realized he didn’t reject you. You wrap your arms around him, your hands resting on his upper back. “At least the embarrassment is over.” You lightly giggle, stuffing your face into the crook of his neck.

His hand moves from your back to behind your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he played with it. As he did so, you felt your eyelids weigh down on you. You practically rely on Daisuke to keep you from falling, your body almost giving out on you.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that you were worn out. He felt your body get heavier as he held you up, guiding you to his bed. He chuckled as you fell back and laid down right next to you.

You embraced each other, your arms over his neck and his arms over your back. Your chin rested on top of his head as you stroked his hair.

His hands lightly rubbed your back, the warmth of your body and the sound of your heartbeat soothing him. Suddenly, you heard sniffling. You looked down to see Daisuke’s face covered in tears, the sound muffled. Your brows widen in surprise.

“Daisuke? Hey, what’s wrong?” You whisper, concern written all over your face. His grip on you tightens as he mutters. “I-.. *sniff* I didn’t think anyone.. *sniff* liked me like this. Like the way you do, I mean.. I’m s-sorry, I shouldn’t be *sniff* crying..”

A gentle grin formed on your lips before you kissed his temple, whispering against his skin as you chuckled.

“Of course I like you. In fact, I love you. Daisuke, you mean so much to me. No matter what happens.. please don’t forget that.” You murmured, setting another gentle kiss on his forehead.

He smiled up at you like a little boy who just got candy. He snuggled closer, hiding his face in your chest once more. You pet his head, twirling the strands of his hair around your pointer finger.

You felt his body weight get lighter, light snores leaving his nose. You close your eyes, not ignoring the ache in you to rest any longer. Just after a few minutes, you felt your body relax, sending you into a peaceful sleep.

————

1 WEEK LATER

You knocked on the door to the maintenance room, hearing Swansea’s voice on the other side. You waited patiently until the door opened, revealing the short haired brunette.

“Ah, Y/N.. how’s it going?” He asked, expanding the door’s entrance and allowing you to step around him. A soft grin appears on your lips as you step inside, glancing around the room before back towards the older man.

“It’s going just fine, Swansea. Thanks for asking.” You give an appreciative nod. “What are you doing?” You stare at the ceiling, seeing the vent opened with a few thin black wires hanging out. Sparks flew out, causing you to shuffle back a step or two.

“Be careful, now.” Swansea called from behind you. He grabbed your shoulder and gently shoved you back to avoid getting burnt. “I’m just trying to attach the wires back to the vent. Damn things..” He grumbles, shaking his head before turning towards you.

“Why’d you come here? Ya need something?” He raised a brow, crossing his arms over his chest. “Uh.. well, no. I don’t need anything. I just wanted to hang out with you, I guess?” You shrugged, not sounding very confident.

He chuckled. “You hanging out with me?” He couldn’t believe it. You quickly nod, confirming that you indeed wanted to keep him company. “Alright. There’s nothing entertaining to do in here, though. Just fixing things.” He turned back towards the ceiling before stepping towards the ladder, placing a foot on it, about to climb.

You watch carefully, handing Swansea any tools he needed to help him. As you did so, you asked where Daisuke was.

“I sent him to take a break. Kid almost triggered the emergency foam. Couldn’t let that happen with all the wires..” You nod along, understanding why he wasn’t with you two. It almost sounded like Swansea was protecting Daisuke.

You smiled at the thought before handing the man a screwdriver. He must’ve been working fast because after just a little while, he tucked the last wire into its original socket. You stared in awe, not knowing he was that good at his job. You would never tell him that, though.

He climbed down from his ladder before chuckling at your expression. “I’m surprised at how little time that took! You’re really good at your job, huh?” You grinned, glancing in his direction.

“Yeah, well, I’ve been in this business for over twenty years, you know.” He sounded like a proud dad showing off to their kid. “Seriously? I could never have the patience to do that.” You replied with a shrug, a hint of jealousy in your voice.

You sighed before turning towards the door, the knob in your hand as you spoke. “It’s been fun talking to you, Swansea. Thanks for letting me hang out.” You shot him a smile before stepping out of the room, shutting the door behind you.

Suddenly, you felt a firm hand rest on your shoulder, making you instantly turn around, your body jumping at the feeling.

That hand that was placed beside your neck belonged to Jimmy. Your smile faded, your lips straightening. A soft expression sat on your face, matching the man’s energy. “Do you need something?” You muttered, not wanting to be near him alone.

He nodded, staying silent for a few moments before placing the same hand on your bicep. ‘What the fuck..’ You thought, glancing at his hand before looking back up at him. “Yeah, I do. Do you know where Anya is?” He smirked, taking his hand off of you before settling his hands on his hip.

You swallow your saliva, not wanting to deal with this guy. “No, sorry. I don’t.” You shake your head, lying to him. Right before you talked to Swansea, you were in her bedroom, just talking. “Maybe she’s in the medical room?” You suggested, shrugging your shoulders.

He hummed in agreement before pushing past you, not letting a ‘thank you’ slip through his throat. You turn back to him, watching him walk away from you. You grumbled to yourself, your hands fisting in anger. He could’ve at least said something.

————

0 HOURS BEFORE THE CRASH

You heard the captain yelling in the halls, causing you to peek around, confused why the Tulpar was rumbling. You began to shake in fear, stomach feeling uneasy. You were in the halls when it happened. You were alone. Adrenaline rushed through your veins as you ran towards the noise, determined to know what was happening.

As you turned a corner, you bumped into Daisuke. He looked afraid like death was approaching. He immediately held your hand before questioning you.

“What’s happening?” He yelled, his voice barely audible. “I don’t know! Where is everyone?” You gripped his bicep, your nose wrinkling as your eyebrows lift, becoming more afraid than before. You felt like you were about to start crying. He shrugged, His face softens as tears well up in your eyes, filling them up.

“We need to go. It’ll be okay, I promise.” He whispers, tightening his grip on your hand before practically dragging you down the hall as he ran. You stayed close by, not daring to lose him.

You felt your breathing get heavier, becoming worn out. “Where are we going..!?” Your head was pounding due to the sound of the alarms, the red colors taking over your vision.

“F-Far away from where we just were! Captain Curly’s going crazy over there.” Daisuke exclaimed. You didn’t question it and continued on your way, not wasting a single second to get as far away as possible.

It was a single flip of a penny. The Tulpar could either blow up on one end, or the other. You prayed that it wasn’t the end you were headed towards.

Suddenly, you heard a loud explosion from the other end of the space freighter. You and Daisuke shot each other a look before rushing back to where you came from. You let his hand go to be able to run faster.

Nothing could have prepared you for what you stumbled upon in the cockpit.

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author’s note

could anyone tell I was getting tired of free styling this thing?? (but ofc I still loved writing this chapter and I’m gonna love writing more!)

I was WAY too over excited to finally show you guys the next chapter, I just had to release it early. Can you blame me though??

next chapter is you finally getting into where the gameplay starts, yay!! bye for now<33

[im-sleepdeprived]

Can you write something about co-workers to friends to lovers?

fix you up

pairing: peter parker x reader

a/n: i won’t lie to y’all idk how i feel abt this one. its cute dgmw but i hope you guys like it !!! ive had this request for an EMBARRASSINGLY long time, anon if you’re upset, i totally understand

warnings: mentions of injuries, burns, rude customers, bandaging some wounds n stuff, fluff and pining !!! (disclaimer: I’ve never been a barista so forgive me if this is a lil off)

masterlist, requests are open !!

Working in a rustic-vintage-corner-campus-cafe was definitely not how you saw your college years going. Your teen self would’ve killed to work at a place like this but when you grew up, you realized just how different the workload is between a high school student and a uni one such as yourself. 

You weren’t complaining of course. The pay was adequate, your manager was a simple old lady who never had much to say other than making sure all the equipment was clean, you got along with your coworkers pretty well for the most part and the customers were tolerable. 

But every once in a while, you’d get an entitled shithead who seemed to make it their life’s mission to ruin someone else’s day. And the problem with working a social job such as you did, is that you were an easy target. 

It started off as a fairly simple day, you clocked in and put on your apron ready to start your shift for the day. You preferred late morning shifts, leaving afternoons for classes (and the rouge 8am lecture every now and then) and nights for going out or studying. 

“Oh, Y/N! Thank god you're here,” Your co-worker, Vanessa, exclaimed.

Vanessa was a few years older than you. She actually wasn’t a student, she’d given college a try and it wasn’t her thing. Apparently, all it did was “try to undermine unstoppable greatness.” She was chatty, but you actually liked that about her. She could keep up a conversation with a statue. When you first started off here she’d been the one to show you the ropes and ever since then, you’d had a specific bond with her that you couldn’t really put a name to.

You gave her a small smile, “Yeah well, I do prefer to show up when promised. Especially when my paycheck depends on it,” you let out a small laugh.

“Yes! See, that's what I love about you,” she made a disgusted face, “Unlike Peter. Honestly, I don't understand how he hasn’t been fired yet! He shows up at least half an hour late to every shift yet Miss Hannigan still keeps him around.”

“Oh,” you stuttered, raising your hands a little in defense, “I didn't mean it as a jab at Peter, I swear.”

She tossed a curled blonde lock of hair over her shoulders while waving her other hand in dismissal, “Honey, don’t worry about it. I know you would never, you’re far too sweet for that. But I wouldn’t blame you if you did, you know, having to work more than half your shift alone? I swear if Bernard did that to me,” she made a big show of gesturing to herself, "I would not deal with it.”

While what she was saying wasn’t necessarily wrong, it didn’t feel right talking about Peter like that. Sure, he was late most of the time, leaving you to do most of the work while you waited for him to show up (somehow when he started working you two got the same shift together and it’s just been that way ever since) and while you, also, normally wouldn’t put up with this, there was something different about Peter. You never felt like he was taking advantage of you, and purposefully made you pick up extra slack. It was quite the opposite actually, he always apologized profusely and never slacked when he was on the clock. He always seemed so rushed and out of breath, you were pretty sure the poor boy just needed to learn how to manage time better. Plus, he always took it upon himself to unpack the orders because of all the heavy lifting required (you couldn’t tell just by looking at him, with all the sweaters he wore, but man was he ripped.)

“He’s actually really sweet.” You’re not sure why exactly you’re so keen on defending Peter. You two barely spoke, outside of work of course, and you don’t know much about him. But something inside you didn’t like anyone assuming anything bad about him. 

“Yea, well, he’d be a ton sweeter if he clocked in on time,” she laughed as she untied her apron, getting ready to leave. You faked a laugh as well, not wanting the conversation to progress any further. 

“Alrighty, well,” she heaved a breath, “I'm off, have a good rest of your day Y/N.”

You smiled once again and sent a wave her way before settling down in front of the register. It was slow today, not many people in the shop. A fellow student you only recognized from work sat in a corner booth with their headphones locked in and was working on what seemed to be some kind of essay. 

There was an older woman, however, looking incredibly irritated at the table closest to you. You’d never seen her before but that wasn’t too strange. It was a near-campus cafe, after all, lots of people passing through. She looked to be typing on her phone until, suddenly, she shut it off and made direct eye contact with you. 

If looks could kill, you would’ve dropped dead behind the counter, which wouldn’t be all that ideal considering you couldn’t remember the last time anyone mopped that side of the store. 

She stood up and walked towards you and you already dreaded the conversation to come.

“I have an order,” she spit out, as if she were disgusted to even be talking to you at the moment. 

No greeting or anything, wow. Someone wasn’t raised right. 

Nonetheless, you put on your well-rehearsed customer service smile and gave in. “Sure, I’d be happy to help with that. Can you just give me the order?”

She rolled her eyes dramatically. “I shouldn’t have to, I called in and placed it and it should be ready by now. I'm going to be late!”

You froze for a moment, not quite sure what to do, “I’m so sorry for the inconvenience ma’am, but I just got here and I haven’t heard anything,” you glance at the little whiteboard kept on the counter for these exact situations only to find it empty, “and I don’t see anything here about a phone-placed order. Are you sure you have the right store?”

Her face was so red and steam was practically blowing out of her ears, “Of course, I have the right store! Do you think I'm stupid or something?”

“No! Of course not, I'm so sorry,” you start to blabber off, not wanting to make her any angrier than she already was, “I’ll get things ready for you right away ma’am.”

You turned around and tried to make yourself not freak out as badly as you wanted to. It was so humiliating getting yelled at like this in public! And yeah, maybe if you had such a problem with unpleasant interactions like this, you shouldn't have taken a social job such as this one, but honestly, you thought people would have enough manners not to act up like this. Apparently not. 

It slipped your mind for a moment because of how scrambled you got when the lady flipped her lid, but Vanessa has been known to do this, forget to write down orders and leave you to fend for yourself (quite literally since your coworker was never really around) and you’re pretty sure that’s what happened here. Other customers were usually more understanding than this woman bordering on Kathy-Bates-movie-character-insanity over a drink order. 

You reached into your back pocket, deciding you’d try to send her a hurried text about any phone calls she might remember. That just seemed to anger your customer more.

“Excuse me?! I'm sitting here waiting for my order and you're too busy chatting away on your phone?”

You lose yourself for a moment and you can’t feel your face anymore. 

“I am so sorry ma’am,” you repeat, which seems to be your mantra since you started working today, “I was just checking to see if-,”

“I don't care what you were checking, or what you need to see! Give me what I paid for,” her hand started smacking against the counter loud enough for the only other person in the store to look up, broken from their reverie. They merely shot you an apologetic look before getting back to their work, leaving you to fend for yourself.

“You have terrible customer service, honestly. I come here every Tuesday with my book club, but never again. If I don’t get exactly what I asked for in the next five minutes, I'm calling your boss and not leaving until I'm sure you’re fired.” 

You shake your head, “There’s no need to do that ma’am, I'll get everything ready for you.”

You turned around once again, this time, heading towards the cappuccino machine. You’re not sure why you said that considering you have no clue what ‘everything’ is that has to get ready. 

In all honesty, there’s a low chance that a suburban-white-soccer-mom type would have any real effect on your employment. Miss Hannigan would surely not fire you just because some order forgot to be written down and some customer got pissed. Right?

But you really didn’t want to find out. 

So, you started up the machine and turned to grab a cup. Today, apparently, was just doomed from the start. As you turned to grab one of the cups placed on the shelf over the machine, your hand hit the button that turned on the steam wand. Which was aimed directly at your other hand. 

You bit down the yelp that threatened to escape and jumped back, the back of your hand now searing with pain. Instinctively, your other hand came to cup your injured one, which only made it worse. You fought back tears as you moved to turn the steam back off. 

Inhaling deeply, you took a moment to try to get your mind working again. “Hello?!” Of course. You turned your head and gave her the fakest smile you’ve ever mustered in your whole life. “One minute ma’am.”

You could hear her going off about how she doesn’t have a minute to spare, but you ignored her, trying to think of what the hell you could give her to just get her out of your face. You’d have to guess her order since I wasn’t actually taken. You’d started playing a game with yourself since you worked here, guessing people's drink orders, and you’d say you’ve gotten pretty good. 

You peeked a look back at her. You’d had customers around her age come in before and order, for the most part, the same thing. A plain cappuccino. Seemed like a safe bet.

Swallowing down the pain as best you could, you approached the machine again. This time, taking out the portafilter. It must’ve not been put in correctly because it clattered to the ground, coffee grinds falling around the floor. 

You wanted to cry. Your hand hurt like hell, there was a new mess to deal with, and that lady hadn’t stopped complaining since you stepped in. 

Frozen, you began to panic a little, breaths coming out sporadically. You’d leave the sweeping for later, but you had to clean the filter so you could use it because it was the only one. And the slightest brush of air made your hand burn even more. You had no clue how to go about this. Maybe if you-

Like an angel, Peter rushed in through the side door. Tying his apron around his waist, he looked towards you. Your hand flew up to your mouth at his perfect timing and you saw his expression grow more concerned. 

He rushed towards you. “What happened?” And for a second, you forget everything that was stressing you out just a few moments before. He grabbed your hand so gently, you forgot every ounce of pain. 

“I cannot believe this!” She wasn’t giving up and you shut your eyes in frustration, turning to reply to her again. But before you can open your mouth, Peter steps in. “Hold on, can’t you clearly see she’s hurt?”

She scoffed and crossed her arms, “That’s her fault. If she knew how to do her job, it wouldn’t have happened.”

You could feel the anger rolling off him in waves. His expression hardened and his mouth opened to shoot something back at her, but this time, you cut him off. You placed your non-injured hand on his shoulder and gave him a look. 

He stared at you for a few seconds before finally giving in, blowing out some air in a frustrated huff. “Go wait for me inside,” he told you, nodding his head toward the employees-only backroom. 

“What?” You asked confused. You didn’t wanna leave him alone. 

“You’re not working right now, there’s no way I’m letting you. I’ll deal with her. Go, I’ll be right there,” he said, shoving you away gently.

Once you heard that he’d be following you, you were more willing. You walked through the door and took a seat at the table usually used for meal breaks. The ‘break room’ was a small room positioned in the back of the store. You can’t remember what this place used to be (a diner maybe?) but this specific room was used as an office, but Miss Hannigan claimed she had no use for an office so it was used for employee breaks. 

Every ounce of you was grateful for Peter’s Superman moment back there. He came in today earlier than usual and he’d totally saved your ass. You were going to make sure to tell him. 

You weren’t waiting long before the door opened again and Peter walked in, holding a backpack you hadn’t seen on him before. In his other hand, he held a drink. He placed the drink on the table before he grabbed one of the chairs, bringing it close to yours, and you turned your body to face him. 

He picked up your hand again, just as gently as before. “Alright,” he let out a breath of relief, “it’s not as bad as I thought, but, it’s still gonna take a while to heal. Wait,” he leaned over, unzipping his bag and taking supplies out while you just stared at him.

“I thought you majored in biochemistry.” You blurted out. Your face heated up a little when he looked at you curiously.

“I- I saw your textbooks once when you left your bag open. And I’ve seen you around campus, near the science-y buildings…and stuff.” You shrugged and he chuckled. 

“I do,” he nodded, “any medical stuff is self-taught. I get into a lot of…accidents.”

“Oh.” You nodded at him. What kind of accidents would he get into? You’d never seen him hurt, but what did you know. 

“I take it you don’t major in anything science-y,” he said, grinning at you.

You shook your head, “No, I don’t. But I have a chemistry class I have to take for credit. Which makes no sense because chemistry has nothing to do with what I want to learn.”

He laughed and set his bag back down, everything he needed was now laid out on the table. “Okay,” he picked up a white tube with red lettering on it. “This is gonna help with pain and scarring. I’m going to spread some of this, then wrap it up for you.” You looked at the table and saw he’d also taken out some white gauze. What kind of ‘accidents’ did he get into?

You nodded, at a complete loss for words. You had no idea Peter knew so much about injuries and you were so thankful he was helping you out. You didn’t hate each other, but you weren’t close either.

He applied a small amount to the back of your hand, asking you constantly if you were okay as he rubbed it on softly. Honestly, even if it did hurt, you wouldn’t have the heart to tell him.

He finished up with the cream and moved onto the gauze, expertly wrapping it up to lightly cover your wound. When he was finished with that, he carefully tied it off, making sure not to tie it too tight.

“There,” he leaned back and smiled at you, causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. “All fixed up.”

 “Thank you, Peter, really.” You reluctantly pulled your hand back into your lap, missing the warmth of his fingers wrapped around it.

“You don’t need to thank me Y/N, it’s the least I could do. I’m just glad I got here earlier than usual.”

You nodded and looked down. “Well thanks anyway, you saved my ass back there. Seriously, I have no idea what’s wrong with me today but I kept fucking everything up.”

“Hey,” he said softly, making you look up and meet his gaze. “You didn’t fuck anything up. Okay? You made a few mistakes, but that's not your fault. She shouldn’t have been treating you like that, especially when you’d hurt yourself.” He looked away and scoffed as he remembered the terrible customer that had ruined your morning. You would’ve felt extremely touched by his care if it weren’t for his next words.

“All that for a plain fucking cappuccino.” He mumbled.

“A plain cappuccino? Really?” You asked excitedly, forgetting about everything, and grinning at him wildly. 

“Um, yeah…why?” He asked you, confusion was written all over his face, but he couldn’t help his own smile slightly growing when he noticed your enthusiasm.

“Nothing,” you shook your head quickly, smile never fading, “I just…well, I play this game with myself where I guess people's drink orders. And I think I’m getting pretty good because that’s exactly what I was going to make her before you walked in.”

He laughed out loud and you joined in. “What’s my order?” He asked. 

You paused for a moment. “A caramel macchiato with extra caramel.”

He looked at you for a bit, “Close,” he admitted. “It used to be.”

“So are you gonna tell me what it is now?”

Shaking his head, he leaned over the table and dragged the drink he’d brought in earlier in front of you. “Here,” he changed the subject, “I made you this.”

You’d completely forgotten about it, and when you took a closer look, you realized it was your coffee order. 

Your mouth fell open, “How’d you know?”

He just shrugged, smiling slightly. He knew it was your favorite, but the confirmation was still nice. “I've seen you make it for yourself. Educated guess.”

“Oh my god,” you said, voice soft. It was a simple thing really, you had one most days at the end of your shift. But the fact that he’d noticed… It just meant a lot. “Thank you so much, Peter.”

He just waved you off, his smile growing when he noticed your reaction to the drink. He couldn’t believe he got a chance to speak to you. Truly speak to you. He was always too awkward or embarrassed or trying to avoid embarrassment. But now, while he didn’t like the circumstances that led you both here, he was actually talking to you. And it was nice.

“So,” he started, not wanting this to end just yet, “you said you’ve got a chemistry class?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, picking up your drink and taking a sip. “The one with Professor Hall. I actually have a class after this shift. I totally suck though, and he hates me. I just don’t get it, and he doesn’t explain it well!”

Peter nodded, completely understanding what you meant. It was a tough subject to begin with, and he knew not everyone was as into science as he was, add onto that a teacher who doesn’t really teach, it’s a recipe for disaster. 

“I actually had that class. Last year. I can help you, sometimes. If you’d like me to, that is!” He rushed out. Great, he thought, now I’m getting awkward. 

You looked up at him, eyes wide. “Really? Do you mean that?”

“Of course. I think I’ve still got my notes too, if you want ‘em.” He shrugged nonchalantly as if he wasn’t saving your ass again. 

“Oh my god Peter,” you placed your non-injured hand on his knee, not noticing the way his body stiffened and he gulped. “That would help so much. There’s a huge exam coming up, and it's a huge part of my grade so I have to pass. I started cramming earlier but—”

“I’ll help,” he reassured you, “I enjoy science anyway, so it’ll be fun for me.”

“Thank you,” you repeated. Staring at him so close, you realized you’d never noticed how handsome he was. Sure there were times you thought he was cute, from afar, but now…you could see the different shades of brown in his eyes, the way one of his eyebrows was slightly curlier than the other, unwilling to sit straight. You couldn’t help but stare-

“Oh my god,” you repeated, except this time, you had remembered something. “If we’re both in here, who’s outside?”

“What? Oh, um,” he scratched the back of his neck, still reeling from having you so close to him. “Freddy’s out there?”

“Freddy?” You asked confused. 

He nodded. “The guy writing on his laptop, he’s friends with my roommate, throws the craziest parties. He’s chill, I told him to keep an eye out if someone else walks in. But it’s been slow, so I think we’re good.”

“Oh, okay.” You said, standing up. “We should probably still go though.”

He stood up beside you, frowning. “I don’t think you should work with your hand hurt. I don’t want you accidentally making it worse.”

Your heart warmed at his concern. “That's really sweet Peter, but I’ll be fine. I don’t know what happened before, I never do stuff like that, even accidentally.”

He still didn’t look convinced. “Why don’t you just go home? I can take it for today.”

You shook your head quickly, “I’m not leaving. I have a class later and it would just be a waste of time going back and forth anyway.”

You walked towards the door, opened it, and exited before he had a chance to argue anymore. You stepped behind the counter while Peter rushed out behind you. You watched Freddy give him a thumbs up and Peter nodded at him before he followed right after you. 

“Are you sure you should go to class today? I can walk you home so you can take the day off,” he offered, and he looked so genuine you almost accepted. 

“Peter,” you laughed and he decided no matter what your response was, it wouldn’t matter because hearing you say his name like that was enough. “I’ll be fine, I didn’t break both my legs, it's just a small burn.”

He stared at you for a bit as you smiled at him, trying to get him to ease up. “Fine,” he gave in reluctantly. “But no going towards the cappuccino machine,” he waved a finger at you, “or the ovens. Or anything hot!”

“Fine,” you shot back, grinning wide and he couldn’t help but return it.

The rest of the morning had gone by easily and you thought maybe you didn’t have totally shit luck. Peter was way more fun than you ever thought he’d be and you wondered why you didn’t start talking to each other sooner. 

It used to be silently working together but after those few moments in the break room, you guys were laughing your whole shift. He meant what he said, and he kept you away from anything that produced heat (which you told him was an insane boundary to set in a cafe) so you had extra time to make quips here and there.

You started playing your order-guessing game with him, teaching him certain traits that gave someone away:

“Side part, beanie, and a crossbody? Oh, he’s getting a tall, dark, americano for sure.”

“She’s getting tea. No coffee, just tea. Maybe with a little lemon wedge.”

And he started to get the hang of it. 

“She looks like she drinks matchas right?” He said to you when a girl around your age walked in. He’d been right and you both laughed about it afterwards. 

When your work shift ended, you were actually upset. 

“I’ve got a class to get to,” you told him, lifting your bag onto your shoulder. You’d both cleaned up and gotten yourselves ready, now standing in front of the door. Something in you didn’t want to leave just yet, enjoying your time together far too much to end it so soon. 

“Yeah…” he trailed off, you waited for him to continue but he hesitated. 

“What is it?” You crossed your arms and smiled slightly, shifting your weight onto your other foot. He brought a hand up to scratch the back of his neck, “I just…well, I was just wondering—if it's okay with you of course!” He rushed out, quickly bringing his hands up. “That I could walk you to class?”

You laughed, “I’d love that Pete, thank you.” You turned to open the door to let you both out but he quickly moved forward, holding it open for you and motioning for you to move forward. 

Looking back at him, you smiled and noticed his cheeks were a little red. How had you never noticed how adorable he was?

The walk back to campus wasn’t long but you learned a lot. He told you where he went to high school, his friends he still kept in touch with, his Aunt May, some funny moments from parties he’d been forced to attend by his roommate, and you laughed together.

You told him about the book you were currently reading, your life back home and your family, and why you chose to go to this college. He went along with your jokes, which made it all the more better for you. “I mean if you think about it,” you'd said, “it is so much easier to romanticize your life  when your school campus is as pretty as this one, and that’s real motivation!”

The conversation flowed naturally between you two and it felt like you’d been friends for ages. He dropped you off outside of your class building with the promise of picking you up afterward so you two could study together. 

“So I’ll be back here in an hour right,” he asked. 

“Right,” you smiled at him. “And thanks again Pete, for everything.” You held up your bandaged hand, shaking it a little before setting it back down. 

He shook his head quickly, “Don’t thank me for that. Really.”

You stared at him with a warm expression. “Bye Peter,” you waved as you turned to walk into your class.

“Bye Y/N,” he returned. He watched you walk through the doors, shooting him one last smile before you disappeared from view, before blowing out a breath of air. 

He’d finally gotten a chance to talk to the girl he’d been crushing on for months, and he got to walk her to class! And they were meeting up afterward. After working so close to you and never having the guts to initiate a conversation, he’d settled for just admiring you from afar. But after today, there was nothing that could keep him away. 

You were not having a good day. 

You’d just found out that your chemistry exam was being bumped up to two days from now. Even with the early studying you’d done before, there was no way you could catch up with everything that fast. You were so overwhelmed you had completely forgotten Peter was waiting for you outside. 

You walked out, your bottom lip stuck between your teeth, and you practically jumped out of your skin when someone placed a hand on your shoulder. 

“Hey, don’t worry,” he said, his voice soft yet full of concern. Peter. “It's just me. What happened?”

The second he saw you walk out, he could tell something was off. He could literally sense the anxiety rolling off of you in waves. He had waited for you to look up and stop when you saw him, but you were just about to walk past him before he stopped you. Now, you were looking at him with distress coating every feature on your face. Your brows were pinched, your lip red from biting it, and your eyes wide and distant like you couldn’t even see him and he was standing right in front of you. Something had gone wrong and he wanted nothing more than to fix it. 

“What is it? What’s wrong? He asked frantically. 

“Oh my god,” you whispered, hands flying up to the sides of your head and gripping your hair. You weren’t looking at him anymore, “Oh my god.”

“Ok Y/N,” he said nervously, “you’re starting to scare me.”

“Two days Peter!” You looked at him wildly. “Two days! I can’t go over everything in two days, is he fucking insane? I didn’t even know he could do something like that, I mean, can he do something like that? I feel like that shouldn’t be allowed it should—”

You cut yourself off and started pacing back and forth in front of him. “Oh my god, I’m gonna bomb this. And if I fail, it’ll bring my whole grade down! I can’t afford that I—”

“Hey,” he repeated, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder again. “I said I’m gonna help you, and I meant it. So we’re gonna get through this together, even if we have to stay up all night.”

You stared at him, trying to wonder what you’d done in your life to deserve such an angel. 

You shook your head quickly, “I really appreciate that Peter, but I’m serious. There’s no way I can learn everything I need to know that fast.”

You tried to smile at him but it didn’t reach your eyes. 

He grinned, his expression the total opposite of yours. “Well, you’ve clearly never studied with me, so don’t sound too sure yet.”

Another thing you’d come to realize was just how smart Peter was. 

You really should’ve known when he told you he’d taken that advanced chemistry class a year ago. And passed. 

Looking through his notes, you could see his attention to detail. He really wasn’t a slacker in the classroom because everything was clearly laid out here. 

You’d spent that night going over everything and you’d actually started to feel hopeful about it. Peter was a way better teacher than Professor Hall, and it didn’t hurt that he was so cute. He was understanding with everything and was willing to go over any part for as long as it took for you to fully grasp it. 

At the end of the night, he’d undone the wrappings around your hand, reapplied the cream for you, and wrapped it up again.

“It’s doing okay,” he reassured you. “Like I said, it’s gonna take a while, but if it starts hurting or anything, take some medicine. Then find me.”

You were sure you’d just melted into his hands at that moment.

The next day, you couldn’t wait to get through everything and see him again, even if you were going to be talking about chemistry. 

You weren’t scheduled to work at the cafe today, so you’d only get to meet up after both of your classes. 

Lectures were a blur, nothing really catching your attention and you spent most of the time with your phone tucked in your hand texting back and forth with Peter, barely concealing your laughter when he sent you memes. 

It was like that all day, until, finally, you made your way over to his small apartment he shared with one of his friends. 

its very quaint 🤌

(totally NOT what we say to make ourselves feel better about this shoebox)

He’d told you over text, making you laugh out loud as you made your way over there. 

dw🫡 I was one of those kids who used to live in their play tents and hid in random corners and spaces

im totally ready for this

ok but be warned, we do not have a pet!!! they are not allowed per our lease!!! ignore the cat when you come in!!! tell no one!!!

what cat ??

good girl ;)

Your face flushed as you made your way up the steps to his door. You knocked three times and barely had to wait a second before Peter stood before you, holding the door open. 

“Hi,” he said, smiling at you. 

“Hi,” you grinned back. You heard a small ‘meow’ come from behind him and he quickly held up a finger to his lips. You covered your mouth, stifling a laugh as you nodded at him. 

“Come on in,” he said, stepping out of the way to lead you through the door. You stepped in and kicked off your shoes before looking around. It was plain, but that was to be expected really. 

There was a large poster hanging next to their TV, however, that caught your eye. “Big fan?” You asked him, shoving your thumb in the direction of the Star Wars poster. 

He shrugged nonchalantly, “Kind of.”

“Oh. Well, I was just asking because I love those movies. My little brother used to watch them and I got really into it.”

“Oh. I mean—I don’t know what I was saying before I love them too.” He rushed out, making you giggle.

He stayed staring at you for a bit, his eyes rounding out and his mouth gaping a little bit. 

You gave him a small smile, “Okay, well we should-” You let out a small yelp, hands flying to your mouth as you jumped back. 

The living room was small. The only things occupying it were the TV mounted to the wall, and in front of it, was a sofa. And on the sofa, was an unconscious body that you hadn’t noticed until it let out a low groan. You really weren’t sure how you missed it, there wasn’t much else to look at, but they had just been so still. 

Heart beating erratically, you turned towards Peter again, who was looking at you with all the amusement in the world written all over his face. “Was he always there,” you whispered, eyes wide.

He opened his arms, “Well, angel, I really don’t know. Did you see anyone come in?”

“Oh shut up,” you grumbled. “He looks familiar…is that..”

“Freddy.” He finished for you. Right. The dude from the cafe. 

“He crashes here sometimes.” He added.

You nodded. “Alright.”

“Shall we?” He opened a door beside him and looked at you. 

“Right. Yeah, of course.” You walked past him and into his room. You stopped after you entered, taking a moment to look around. His room was simple, with just his bed, a desk and chair, and a dresser perched next to another door you assumed was his closet. 

What really caught your attention, however, were the photos scattered all over the walls. The room was practically engulfed in Peter Parker’s memories, and you really liked it. Without thinking, you approached one wall, walking through them and taking each one in. 

There were some with large groups of people, those looked like school trips. Most of the photos were of the same two people, and based on what he’d told you, you assumed those were his friends. Ned and MJ. 

A lot of the photos contained an older woman, who looked stunning. That had to be his Aunt May. You were shocked by how many photos he had with the Tony Stark. He’d told you he had an internship at Stark Industries, but really, you sorta thought he just went on coffee runs all day. 

And then, you saw a couple shots of Spider-Man. It wasn’t unusual, you knew a lot of people snapped photos of the masked hero when they spotted him around the city. What was unusual, was the quality of the photos. You didn’t know if you’d ever seen such clear photos of him, even on the news, as he was always swinging and in motion. In these, Peter seemed to have caught him at just the right time. You wondered how long it took him to capture the photos.

“Big fan?” You smirked over at him from your spot by one of the Spider-Man photos as you repeated your words from earlier. 

Peter leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, content with watching go over the details of his life. He felt a little naked, like he was bared out in front of you. But…it felt good too. He liked knowing you were learning new things about him, and curious to know more. It filled him with an anxious sort of giddiness.

“You first,” he said slyly.

Laughing, you said, “Well, I don’t see how anyone can hate on the guy. He literally runs around saving lives”

He laughed as he approached you, standing by your side. You’d be surprised. “True I guess.”

“We should get to studying,” you said, breezing past him, your hand brushing his bicep as you did. He sucked in a breath, his entire body feeling electrocuted after that one touch. He wondered how you seemed so normal, laying out your books and papers on the floor beside his bed. 

This was gonna be a long night. 

He cleared his throat and moved to sit across from you, hoping he didn’t look as flushed as he felt. 

After a few moments of him watching you get settled, you heard him start laughing. Looking up you asked, “What’s so funny?”

That only made him laugh harder. “Just thinking about how scared you got before. Did you really not see him?”

You felt your face go hot. “I didn’t! I had no clue he was there, and next thing I know he’s making lawn mower nosies!”

Peter was red in the face now. “The way you flew back,” he said between fits of laughter, “I thought you’d give yourself whiplash.”

“Shut up,” you grumbled at him, picking up one of your pens and throwing it at him. It bounced off without him even flinching. 

You looked down, avoiding his gaze by busying yourself with your papers. 

“Okay I’m ready to be serious now,” he said. The laughter was gone but amusement twinkled in his voice. 

“Great! Welcome back Pete, now hand me that pen, I’m gonna need it.”

Two hours later, you were both sprawled across the floor tossing Chess-Its at one another. 

“Come on!” You threw your arms up in defeat when you threw another cracker at him just for him to catch it again. 

Peter chuckled, “Sorry angel, I’ve just got killer reflexes.”

“Alright whatever,” You rolled your eyes. “Come on, throw some at me.”

You opened your mouth, ready to finally win one round of this nonsense…just for a Cheez-It to hit your cheek and fall to the ground with the rest of your tries. 

Peter laughed while you sat up, reached to grab the box of crackers, and poured some into your hand before putting it back down. 

“Okay, I’m done. I actually want to eat them now.” You said, munching on a cracker and sitting against the side of his bed. 

“Oh come on, don’t be a quitter Y/N/N,” he grinned, leaning over and pinching your cheek. 

You swatted his hand away with your empty one. “M’not.”

He smiled at you before sitting up. “Hit me,” he said, opening his mouth and pointing at it. 

You grabbed a Cheez-It from the palm of your hand and made a big show of trying to get your aim right. Squinting one eye, you stared at him, moving your hand back and forth before tossing it slightly more to the right. On purpose. 

That didn’t stop him from leaning over and catching it in his mouth. 

“I don’t like this game,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him. 

“Don’t act like I don’t know what you did,” he said back, munching on his Cheez-it. 

“Sue me,” you told him, brushing him off with a wave of your hand. 

He laughed before he settled down. “How’s your hand feeling by the way.” His voice was considerably softer now, making you smile softly at him. 

“It’s doing great, thank you again, Peter. I would’ve been totally fucked if it weren’t for you,” you told him honestly. 

He shook his head, “Don’t thank me at all Y/N. Hate seeing you hurt,” he mumbled, less to you and more to himself and he stayed staring at your wrapped-up hand. 

“Well don’t worry about that, it doesn’t hurt at all.”

“Yeah?” He looked at you suddenly, like he needed to know you meant it. 

“Yeah,” you nodded at him. 

“That’s good,” he breathed out and your heart squeezed at how much he seemed to care. 

“What's your plan? Y’know, for after school?” You didn’t want to leave just yet, even with your studying done. And you wanted to know more about him. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t taken a certain liking to him lately. 

“Well after I get my degree, I’m going move up a little further in Stark Industries. I’m still undecided on grad school, I think I’ve got everything I need and I’m probably just gonna start saving up to pay off student loans instead of adding on them.”

You nodded at him, “So the Stark internship is going well? No offense, I sort of thought you were their coffee mule.” You grinned at him before popping a Cheez-It in your mouth. 

He scoffed, “No, I’m not. I mean, it did take a while to get them to take me seriously, but I got there!”

You laughed, “Well, very proud of you Pete. That’s super impressive.”

He grinned at you, his face heating up at your words. He wondered if you knew how much it affected him every time you called him Pete. Probably not, but he never wanted you to stop. 

You two stayed like that for another hour or so, time passing by without you noticing at all. You talked about your futures, where you say yourselves after school, and after that. Your admiration for him only grew as you got to know him more. You could talk to him all night and never get bored honestly, you-

Shit. 

A random notification lit up your phone, which lay beside you on the floor, making you take notice of the time. 

You sat up quickly, spitting out curses as you started gathering your belongings and shoving them into your bag. 

Peter sat up as well, helping you get your things together but in a calmer manner than yourself. 

“Relax Y/N,” he said in a soothing voice. 

“Pete I can’t do it.” You turned to him suddenly, dropping everything in your hands. 

“Do what, angel?”

“The exam is tomorrow. I’m not ready! I’m gonna fail, and that one grade, that one stupid grade, is gonna hold me back and ruin everything-”

“Sweetheart look at me,” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder. His grip was warm and reassuring. “You are not going to fail. And I know this because I’ve spent the last few hours studying with you, and I saw how smart you are, and how quick you caught on. You’re gonna walk in there tomorrow and ace that test, I know you are!

“And if for some reason you don’t,” he continued, “you gave it your best. You tried your hardest and you learned something, which is all that matters in the end. So breathe, stop stressing, and let me walk you home.”

“All that talk as an excuse to ask to take me home?” You snorted, “Peter you shouldn’t have.” Despite your jokes, you took his advice and took a deep breath. He was right, you’d studied your hardest, both with and without his help. All you could do was take the exam and hope for the best now.

He laughed and stood up, holding out a hand once he saw you all packed and ready. “Caught me. So is that a yes?”

You took his hand and pulled yourself up but didn’t let go right away. “If I fail, do we have to stop hanging out? Y’know, with you being a science prodigy and all.”

He laughed again and placed both his hands on your shoulder, staring straight into your eyes. “Never.”

“Ok, well, just making sure. I wouldn’t wanna give you a bad rep in the science community or something-”

You were suddenly cut off from your babbling when he pressed his lips to yours. You froze for a second, unsure what to do, but it didn’t take long for you to catch up and kiss him back. 

He pulled away after a few moments, “Done with the jokes?” His voice was soft and teasing.

“Uh huh,” you mumbled, eyes still closed. “But I think you might need to do that again, just to be sure.”

He chuckled murmuring something that sounded like ‘too cute’ but you couldn’t be bothered to hear when you felt his lips on yours again, this time, expecting them. 

You threw your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and canting your head slightly for better access. He groaned, one arm wrapping around your middle, the other settling on your waist.

You might have pictured kissing him before, just maybe. But none of your daydreaming could’ve prepared you for the real thing. The way his bottom lip covered your top one, the soft breaths exchanged between the two of you, the way he pressed himself further into you when you tugged his hair a little harder. This definitely beat all of your daydreams. 

You could’ve stayed that way forever, and you probably would’ve if Peter hadn’t taken one for the team and pulled away first. 

Or tried to, at least. 

“We should-” kiss. 

“You-” kiss. 

“I need to walk,” kiss, “-you home angel.” He murmured against your lips.

“Okay,” you whispered back but you didn’t move to pull away, and he didn’t push you. The two of you stayed stuck, foreheads pressed together, eyes closed, taking in the atmosphere of each other. 

“I should probably go now,” you said softly. Peter hummed in agreement, leaning in to peck your lips gently. 

“It’s getting late,” but your voice is more of a sigh. You don’t know what he’s laced his lips with but each kiss makes you weak in the knees and woozier than the last one.

“God, d’yknow I’ve had the biggest crush on you.” He said, completely disregarding your previous statement. 

That stops you. “What?” You asked him in disbelief. Peter had a crush on you? No way, you would’ve known. 

“Yeah,” he chuckled lightly, “don’t act so shocked. I was always a stuttering mess at work whenever you so much as looked at me.”

True. But you’d just thought he was a bit more on the shy side. 

“I’d seen you around campus before and I thought you were the prettiest girl I’d ever seen, and I still do, but I thought I had no shot in hell with you. And when I got the job at the cafe and saw I’d be working with you? I almost lost my fucking mind sweetheart.” You both laughed a little and you couldn’t help the way your cheeks flamed up because of his words. Did he have any clue what he was doing to you right now?

“So I just sorta kept my distance, y’know? Admired you from afar ‘cause I was too scared you’d reject me. Sadly, it only took you nearly burning your hand off,” he gave you a look and you burst into giggles, him doing you and slightly pinching your waist, “for me to get over myself and actually keep up a conversation with you. But now I’ve got you in my room, kissing me.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, “lucky you.” You joked as leaned in to press another kiss to his lips. 

“Lucky me indeed,” he murmured before pulling you in even deeper. He dipped you, making you squeal into the kiss. Then he pulled you up, unable to keep the kiss going any longer with how hard he was grinning.

“Oh my god,” you said, laughing breathlessly. 

“A lot more where that came from,” he smirked at you. 

“You know,” you moved to pick up your bag, “for someone who was so scared to talk to me for so long, you sure found the confidence now.”

“What can I say? You make it easy. Once I started I couldn’t stop.” You smiled at him as he gently placed a hand on your arm leading you to the door. The living room was empty now, no one to be found on the couch or otherwise and you wondered where their cat had wandered off to.

You bent over to put on your shoes, Peter doing the same. He stepped forward and opened the door for you, letting you step out before following you and locking the door. 

As soon as he was done with that, you reached over and grabbed his hand. “Hey Petey?” You said lightly. Oh, he was going to melt. From now on, he only wanted you to call him that.

“Hm?”

“I’m glad you finally decided to talk to me.” 

He leaned down and kissed the top of your head. “Yeah? Me too angel.”

The next morning, you awoke in the brightest mood, considering you had a chemistry exam later that day. All you could think about was Peter. You were going to see him later at the cafe and you couldn’t wait. 

You leaned over in bed to pick up your phone. Speak of the devil. 

GOOD MORNINGGGGG❤️

hope you slept well angel, can’t wait to see you today. and you’re gonna totally ace that exam!🥰

seriously you’re going to kick chemistry’s butt

A huge smile bloomed on your face, almost hurting from how wide it was. Usually, you'd stay in bed for a while, scrolling through Instagram or just going through messages or something. Not today, you couldn’t wait to get to work. Maybe Peter was a good influence on you. 

After getting ready for the day, you made your way to the cafe with a little bounce in your steps. The bell jingled above you as you opened the door and for the first time since you’d started working together, Peter was here before you. 

“Hey,” he smiled, holding up your usual drink order and waving it at you. 

“Hi Pete,” you approached his, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. As you pulled away, you could see how quickly his cheeks pinked, making you grin. 

“No ‘Petey’?”

“Didn’t know you had a preference,” you said, grabbing his hand and pulling it towards you as you took a sip from the drink and then moved to get dressed for your shift. 

“Yeah,” he scratched the back of his neck, wishing he could feel your hand on his for just a little longer, “neither did I.”

You laughed lightly as you tied your apron, the sound hitting him like the greatest melody in the world. 

“Okay then,” you walked towards him, stopping right in front of him, “let’s start over. Hi Petey.”

“Hi angel,” he gave you a dopey grin and you returned it. 

“Great, now that we’ve got that figured out.” You patted his chest lightly before taking the drink from his hands and moving away. 

“Hey wait! Where’s my kiss?” He pouted at you and he looked so adorable, you just wanted to pinch his cheeks and kiss him till he begged you to stop.

“We’re at work, we’ve gotta be professional.” You said matter-of-factly. 

He rolled his eyes, leaned against the counter, and crossed his arms. “Professional my ass, no one is even in here-,”

Before he could even close his mouth, the bell jingled, and in stepped a boy about your age. The boy moved to one of the chairs, not moving to order just yet, giving you the chance to smirk at Peter, who just rolled his eyes again. 

“What do you he’s gonna order,” he asked you.

“Hmm…a cookie, probably.” You moved lean against the counter across from him and took a sip of your drink as you smiled. 

“Hey wait, you never told me what your drink order is.”

“Hmm…” he hummed in consideration before he moved towards you, grabbing your hand with the drink and bringing it up to his lips to steal a sip, maintaining eye contact the whole time. 

“I’ve got to say,” he said in a low voice, “this one has really grown on me.”

You couldn’t look away, all you could do was stare. And stare, and stare, and stare…

A stranger’s voice, and then, “Hey, can I get one of those double chocolate chip cookies?”

You were just on cloud nine today. 

You had taken your exam and for the first time ever in that class, you had felt confident in your work. 

And to top it all off, after you’d handed in your paper and packed your things to leave, Professor Hall had given you a ‘well done’ nod. You! He’d never noticed you positively before. You were going to need to drown Peter in thank-you kisses for his help. 

Speaking of Peter, you couldn’t wait to see him. He told you he’d be waiting for you after your class but when you stepped outside, there was no sign of him. You decided to sit on the building steps and wait. He was probably just running a little late, no biggie. 

Big biggie. After 40 minutes of waiting for him, during which you’d sent him a little text and he hadn’t responded, you decided to head over to his place. 

The walk was short and your little buzz had worn off after not getting to share it with Peter. After all, you kind of owed him most of the credit. You arrived at his apartment door, and when you knocked, it wasn't Peter who answered. 

It's Freddy. 

You throw on a smile. “Hi Freddy, is Peter home?”

He returned your smile as he said, “‘Sup Y/N.” He held out his fist and you stared at it for a while before you got the hint and bumped it with your own. “Pete’s not home right now, but you can totally come in and wait for him.”

You found it funny that someone who didn’t live there was inviting you in to stay, but you accepted anyway. You also had no clue how he knew your name. 

You knew little about Freddy, but you knew he was sort of a campus celebrity. Every raging party there was, everyone knew Freddy was behind it. 

“So,” you said as you walked in, “what year are you in Freddy?”

“Ah nah, I’m done with that shit. I took the bar,” he said casually, waving a hand and moving to sit on the couch. He kicked his feet up on the large Amazon box being used as a coffee table and picked up the open beer sitting atop it. 

You stood in your place, clutching your bag. He was in grad school?

“Oh that’s awesome dude, did you not pass or something.”

“Uh uh,” he shook his head, taking a swig of beer, “got a 350.”

Your eyes widened. What. You didn’t know much about law school but you knew getting a score like that on the bar was not an easy thing. 

“Wait when’d you take it?” You asked confused. The bar exam wasn’t scheduled for a few months from now. 

“Last year.”

“Do you like…work at a firm or something?” It was insane to you that the party animal of this school had already graduated, and with an amazing score nonetheless. 

He shook his head, “Workin' on my music right now, and if that doesn’t work out,” he gave you a wicked grin, “well I’ve always got my law degree.”

You nodded, stunned. “That’s sick dude. Good luck,” you told him, waving as you moved to wait in Peter’s room. 

“Keep the door cracked kids,” he shouted towards you and you huffed a laugh as you entered the room and closed the door (leaving it open just an inch) before you sat at the foot of his bed. 

You looked around for a second, taking it all in. It’s amazing how he managed to take this small space and make it so him. 

After a few moments, you took out your phone to shoot him another text. 

But before you could finish typing it out, the window beside you started opening and you watched as the Spider-Man fell onto the bed, not noticing you gaping right next to him. 

You stayed silent, unsure of what to do or say until he moved to take his mask off. That got you moving and talking. 

“Holy fuck!” You basically shout, moving away, hands flying to your mouth. 

He seemed to be just as shocked as you were because he scrambled up from his lying position. And staring back at you was Peter Parker. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked you, eyes wide. It wasn’t till then that you noticed the paleness of his features, his face lacking that usually healthy glow it held, the waver in his voice, and the hand clutching his bloody side. 

“Holy fuck,” you repeated, voice lower, and for a whole different reason this time. “Shit Peter, you’re hurt.” You moved closer to him, temporarily forgetting everything else as your hand reached to gently remove his so you could take in the extent of his injuries. 

“It’s nothing,” he said but made no move to shove you away or stop you. You moved his hand and winced at the sight that greeted you, “Looks like a whole lot more than nothing babe.”

“I’ve had worse.”

You look up at him, frowning slightly, “Not exactly reassuring Petey.”

“I feel all better now,” he said, shooting you a charming grin as soon as he heard the nickname leave your mouth. “Add a kiss in the mix, and I’ll be good as new.”

You huffed a laugh, shoving his knee slightly, “Shut up Peter. I’m serious. I’m sure you’ve got some experience with stuff like this,” you wave a hand towards his suit and injury for emphasis and he gives you a quick nod. 

“Over there,” he pointed toward his dresser, “top shelf, under the blue sweater.”

You rushed over there, opening the drawer and spotting the sweater he mentioned. “I’m totally stealing that from you someday, this is your heads up,” you told him as you grabbed the large box and completely closed the door before you moved back to his side. 

“You can have anything of mine, Angel. I’m sure you’d look better in it anyway.” His words made you blush, but you tried to ignore them so you could focus on the task at hand. 

Peter, however, found that he really liked watching your cheeks pink up. And he wanted more. 

“Lean against the headboard, now.” You said, trying to be serious again. 

“God, at least buy me dinner first sweetheart.” He gave you the dorkiest smirk you’d ever seen. You just glared at him. “On the other hand,” he said as he moved backward to lean against his headboard, “I don’t need dinner, I’m all yours baby girl.”

This got you to laugh, “Peter, be serious! You’re bleeding out!” You moved to his side, “take this off by the way.” You gestured to his suit. 

He hit the middle emblem of a spider and you watched as it loosened up and fell off his shoulders. You had started pulling it the rest of the way down, gulping when you realized he wasn’t wearing anything else, when he mumbled, “Not a terrible way to go.”

You refused to look up and meet his eyes but he knew he got you. Thank god he was wearing underwear, you realized, and you threw the suit to the side after you’d completely shredded him of it. He was definitely going to need a new one. 

Now completely facing the damage, your stomach churned, and you were hit with the hard truth. “I…I don’t know what to do,” you whispered to him. You wanted to help him, more than anything. This man who’s been risking his life, probably since he was a teenager you realized, as you did the math silently in your head, was hurt and right in front of you, needing your help. And you needed to help him, but you didn’t know the first thing about how to approach a situation like this. You were surprised you could stare at the wound for so long. 

“Don’t worry, I can do it,” he said gently, his bloody hand reaching for the huge first aid kit. 

“No!” You rushed out, grabbing his hand to stop him, “No way am I letting you do that! Just…just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.

Feeling more confident, you grabbed the kit and opened it. Shock coursed you as you realized just how much he went through and your confidence fell right back down where it sprouted from. The bag was full of all the medical tools and supplies you could think of, most of them completely foreign to you, and you realized how privileged you must be to not recognize any of these things. You can’t imagine the ‘worse’ he talked about having earlier. This must be those accidents he was talking about.

“I don’t usually have to use them,” his voice was soft, almost like he was reassuring you, “usually just water and a towel does the trick. Maybe a little numbing cream. And these,” he looked down at his wounds, “some bandages, sure, but I won’t need stitches or anything.”

You let out a breath of relief, you weren’t sure you could’ve handled that. You didn’t trust yourself.

“Okay,” you said, grabbing some wipes. You were going to do this. Based on what he’d told you, he was always stitching himself back up, just to hit the streets again the next day. This time, though, was different. This time you were here to help him, and you weren’t going chicken out of this. Even a little help was better than nothing at all. 

You started slowly, cleaning around his wounds so you could bandage them properly. “You sure you’re okay with this?” He asked you gently. “I totally understand if you need me to do it, angel, it’s a lot if you’re not used to it.”

“No,” you shook your head, your voice steady, “No way. It’s my turn to fix you up.” You told him, looking up to meet his eyes and smiling at him. 

He returned it and you went back to work. 

“So….Spider-Man, huh?” You peeked up quickly in question. 

“Yeah,” he took a deep breath, “it’s a long story. Basically, I was bit by some spider, that shit was powerful,” you laughed a little, making him smile. “And I got some. Of its powers I mean.”

“So you get bit by a spider, that spider gives you powers, and you decide to become a New York vigilante?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” he nodded, and you laughed again. 

“You’re a hell of a guy Peter Parker.” You said, shaking your head slightly. 

“Thank you, I try,” he smirked at you and you laughed again. 

“Okay,” you said, pulling away from his side. He almost whined in protest. Honestly, he wasn’t feeling any pain, not since you’d started worrying about him, and insisting you help him. Peter wasn’t used to that, he was always alone when it came to this part of the job. He’d never minded that before, just one of the things he had to deal with as a superhero, but now that someone else was taking care of him…it felt nice. Really nice. Especially when it was you. 

“Peter?” You looked at him questioningly. Shit. You’d asked him something.  

“Huh? I'm sorry, I didn’t hear you.” He said with wide eyes. He’d gotten too wrapped up in the feeling of being taken care of, not that anyone could blame him though, the girl he’d been crushing on forever was here, in his room, helping bandage him up! It's more than he could’ve dreamed of. 

“It’s okay sweetie,” you said, waving him off assuming he was in pain or something. Really, now he had something new to obsess over. Sweetie? While he was practically naked (albeit injured, but he wasn’t thinking of that right now) in bed with you? God, he could just melt.

“I was just wondering which bandages,” you said, holding up the different ones you’d found in his bag. 

“Oh,” he said lamely, “these ones.” He grabbed a few from you and opened them. 

“Look,” he said, leaning over himself to see his wounds properly, “you’ve got to bring together both sides of the wound, then secure the bandage so that it’s holding it closed.” He talked as he placed the first bandage with you watching and listening with intent. 

“Okay, I think I’ve got it,” you said as you took the rest of the bandages from him. You steadied yourself, straddling his thigh as you started placing the bandages down his wound. The biggest gash took about five, your elbow resting on his abdomen as you got lower…and lower. 

Conveniently, you missed the quiver in his breath, too focused on the work at hand, but you didn’t miss the small gasp he let out when your forearm reached right between his thighs. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” You said as you pulled away quickly, thinking you’d hurt him. “Did I pinch too hard?”

“No, no angel, you’re fine. Doing a great job actually.” He replied, trying to collect himself. He could not let himself think of that right now. There were more important things at hand. 

��You sure?” You asked him, not looking convinced.

“Positive.” He replied, grabbing your arm and pulling you back in (but making sure to keep you at a healthy distance from his dick). 

You added a few more bandages, most of the cuts only needing one or two, before pulling away again to rummage through his bag. “What do you use on your bruises?”

“This one,” he said, leaning over you and grabbing a tube from the kit. You turned, your lips almost brushing over each other with how close you were. 

“Hi,” you whispered, all thoughts completely flying out of your head as you realized just how badly you wanted to kiss him. 

“Hi angel,” he said smiling softly at you. 

Seeing you debate it in your head, Peter decided it would be easier for the both of you if he did it first. Leaning in, he closed the distance and smoothly took your lips in his. You melted into the kiss right away, feeling like you’d been craving this your whole life when really, you’d just kissed his a few hours ago before you’d left work. 

Your hands were on his bare chest, you could feel every muscle, every move when-

“Wait, you’re hurt!” You pulled away, leaving a pouting Peter in your wake. 

“My lips work just fine angel,” he said, trying to steal another kiss while you tried to avoid him. 

“But..let me finish at least,” you mumbled against his lips, barely getting a chance to pull away after he’d caught you. 

“You can finish, just lemme do this first,” he responded before kissing you again.

“Hey,” you mumbled against his lips. 

He hummed in response, moving to kiss your cheek, your jawline. If he kept this up you might not try to stop him. 

“Did you know Freddy took the bar exam? And passed?”

That got him to pull away. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking at you confusedly, “I’m kissing you and you decide this a good time to bring up Freddy?”

“Well, y’know,” you shrugged, “figured it was as good a time as any.”

He scoffed, “Unbelievable.”

You giggled, “I win.” You pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, pulling away before he could catch you and turn it into more.

“Now lay down, lemme do this,” you said waving the cream at him. 

He moved grumpily and you thought grumpy Peter was the cutest thing ever. The furrow of his brows, the slight pout of his lips. You could just kiss him. And you would’ve if you hadn’t known where it would lead you. 

You unscrewed the cap to the cream and started applying it gently. “So Fred’s a lawyer huh?” Peter spoke up. 

“He is!” You whispered excitedly, glad he was just as shocked as you were. 

“And you learned this how?” He asked, giving you a look. 

You shrugged. “He let me in and I talked to him, asked him a few questions to get to know him better since I see him everywhere.” 

“Wait, he’s here right now?”

“Yeah,” you said slowly, “I thought you knew?”

“No I didn’t-,” he let out a sigh, “whatever it's basically his apartment too at this point I guess.”

You laughed, “And you’re okay with that?”

He shrugged with his good side. “He buys the good beer.”

You laughed again. “He scored a 350 on the bar exam!”

Peter’s brows shot up. “Oh shit.”

“I know! The only thing I knew about him was that he blacked out in that frat house’s pool all night and the cops were called cause someone thought he was dead.”

“Yeah, he’s super lucky he was on his back. Just floated around the pool like a leaf.”

You shook your head, screwing the cap back on the tube of cream, “Crazy. But anyway, I’m done. And on the plus side,” you grinned at him, “if you ever get in legal trouble, you know someone!”

He laughed out loud, and you watched as his face scrunched up and he clutched his side in pain. Apologizing for the joke, you gave him a kiss on the cheek to make up for it. 

“Enough about crazy Freddy,” he let out a sigh, “I’m gonna go put some clothes on, and then I wanna cuddle with my girl.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words and all you could do was smile as he stood up, giving you a kiss on the side of your head before he moved to pick out some clothes.

You watched him get dressed, biting your lip as you watched how his muscles rippled with each of his movements. You always knew he was strong but seeing him like that, was a completely different story. 

“Like what you see?” He asked, smirking at you before he lifted his shirt, holding it up between his teeth as he tied his sweatpants. 

Your mouth fell open. At being caught and also at…how absolutely hot he looked right now. If he wasn’t injured, you would be all. over. him. 

“S’alright angel,” he said as he stalked towards you. He was enjoying this, a lot. “I’m sure I’d be the same if the roles were reversed.”

That did not help. Now you were thinking about being naked in front of Peter and-

He laughed, kissed the side of your head again, and laid down, pulling next to him. 

“Careful Peter, you’re still hurt!” You chastised him. 

He shook his head, “You made me feel a hundred times better. Thank you, angel.”

“Of course Petey.” He smiled at you as he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tight. 

“So, you came to see me right? Y’know, before the whole finding out I’m Spider-Man thing. What’s up?”

“Oh I almost forgot,” you perked up, tilting your head up so you could see his face, “I think I totally aced that chemistry exam!”

“Angel! I’m so proud of you!” He started attacking you with kisses, kissing you anywhere his lips could reach. 

You giggled, “Thank you sweetie, but seriously I owe you most of the credit, I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Nonsense,” he shook his head, “that was all you. I barely helped, you learned everything and then took that quiz, and aced it.”

“Well I haven’t gotten my grade back yet, I just have a really good feeling, so don’t sound too are there's a chance I didn’t do as well as I thought.”

“Nope,” he said, popping the p. “I have a sense, a spidey sense. And my spidey sense is telling me that you totally aced that thing. No questions asked.”

You laughed loudly. “Spidey sense?”

“No questions,” he repeated as he nuzzled his nose into your hair. 

“Fine then,” you snuggled up further into him. “No questions.”

[babygorewhore]

Can I be the helpless victim?

Ghostface!Cooper Adams/Abbott x fem reader.

Your night after a sudden pleasant exchange with your dad’s best friend has a killer twist.

Hiiii I missed my favorite dilf murderer and I’m happy to deliver this. Thank you so much to @cxrrodedcoffin for the dividers and @xxbimbobunnyxx for giving me the idea for something in this 🤭

Warnings! AU where there’s Ghostface and not the butcher! CNC! Breaking in, knife play, restraining, reader is on her period, choking, degrading, age gap, pussy slapping, fingering, unprotected sex, rough sex, but this is CNC so it’s not dubious consent. Please don’t read if this heavy kink isn’t for you! W.C over 2k!

You worked at this diner for years. Starting as a teenager when your dad was still at the fire department. Even though he was retired now, your father frequently stopped in to visit you. When he told you Cooper was coming along, his previous co-worker who he personally trained, you put on your cutest working clothes and make up. Cooper was younger than your dad but he was still twenty years older than you.

He was so hot. Way hotter than most men your age and you checked the mirror one last time before stepping out of the bathroom. You were off the clock now and you saw his familiar dark hair sitting at a booth.

His shoulders were set with his strong posture and your mouth went dry. You walked over, a saunter to your step and you met his brown gaze. “Hey,”

Cooper smiled, a charming sight and he glanced at the empty space across from him. “Hey, doll. I think it’s just me tonight. Haven’t heard from your old man.” You could have jumped for joy but you swallowed it down.

He wasn’t shy about the nicknames and you clicked your heels. “Can I get you a piece of pie?”

“Oh, I couldn’t ask you to get me anything. You’ve worked all day,”

“It’s okay! It’ll just take a second!” You quickly ran back into the kitchen, sneaking past one of the cooks and grabbing an empty plate.

You returned to Cooper, placing the baked good in front of him and slipped onto the cushion. He tapped his fingers on the table and you noticed his wedding ring was gone.

You didn’t comment on it as you watched him slowly eat a piece of pie. He quietly groaned at the taste and you pressed your thighs together.

“So, I haven’t seen you in a while. How have things been at work?” You ask him and he wipes his mouth with a napkin.

“Hectic. Especially because of that killer going around,” He replied with a huff of breath. “No one feels safe anymore.”

“Yeah, it’s crazy. Apparently the media has named the psycho. With his mask and all. Ghostface.” You chew on the corner of your lip, tasting the flavored chapstick and he flashed his eyebrows.

“Did they? That’s interesting. You’re following that closely I see.”

You shrug, watching him take another bite. “Kind of. It’s hard to get away from. You know how my dad is. He always wants me to be safe.” With that, Cooper smiles as he chews.

“Mmm, yes. Daddy’s girl. I don’t blame him. I’m surprised he ever let you out from how pretty you are.”

You could have passed out at his compliment and your ears heated up. As quickly as his statement came, Cooper went back into his casual, controlled demeanor.

You both continued to exchange casual conversation until he checked his watch almost an hour later. “Do you need a ride home?”

You cleared your throat. “Oh. I couldn’t intrude-the bus is close by,” He jerks his head.

“I insist. It’s no problem to drive you. Besides, can’t take any chances with a crazed killer on the loose.” Cooper winks at you.

It took you hours to fall asleep after the interaction and the drive home. It was quiet and he had your address already. Which was a little odd but your father must have given it to him. You daydreamed about him. His solid, tall and well built body. Handsome face and perfectly aged eyes. Cooper didn’t act like your dad’s best friend tonight. He acted like…a normal man.

Your phone rang, waking you up and you groggily answered without checking the ID. “Hello?” You slurred and a laugh sounded at the other end.

“Awww. Did I wake you up?” The voice was altered. Male but not normal. You blinked and sat up. Yawning and you squinted in the dark.

“Mmm, yeah. Who’s this?” You almost drifted back to sleep when the hairs rose on the back of your neck when another sound of amusement came.

“I’m hurt. You don’t know who I am? Everyone is starting to learn about me.”

You gasped and hung up the phone. Oh fucking hell. You had been too out of it to realize that in the news, the Ghostface killer liked to make these elaborate phone calls. You jumped out of bed, went to turn on the lights but they wouldn’t come on. The power was off.

“Shit,” you went to dial 911 but the phone rang. It was an unknown number. You didn’t want to be like the other victims so you didn’t answer. But a text message came.

“If you don’t pick up the phone, you’ll regret it.”

You answered the call. “The fuck do you want?” You snapped.

“I want to play a game.” You shook your head rapidly.

“No!”

“But you don’t even know what it is.” The voice whined and you scoffed.

“Yeah I do. No matter what someone dies.” You barked. Was this really happening? The Ghostface killer was calling you and you were sucked into a conversation.

“But you’re special, doll.”

You almost dropped the phone. Doll? There was only one person who ever called you that. You covered your mouth in horror as you heard movement in the closet.

“Don’t you see? I was going to let you guess where I was but you spoiled the surprise.”

The call ended and you yanked open your bedroom door and went to make a run for the exit. You got as far to unbolt the lock when an iron grip hand covered your mouth from behind. Your body was lifted off the ground, your feet kicking as you wildly fought against the hold. Another arm sealed around your torso.

“Shhh, shhh, easy girl.” The real voice made your defenses drop and you squeezed your eyes shut. It was Cooper’s voice.

He carried you easily back to the bedroom, you felt the dark robe around his firm form. Cooper plopped you on your bed, you focused on the white mask in the dark. Horror made your blood run cold as you saw him draw out a large hunting knife. He tapped it against his chest.

“I wasn’t lying about a killer on the loose. And I know this was a bit excessive-“ You stood up and shoved him. Making him go silent. Anger made you shove him again. He stumbled back.

“You’re a fucking murderer!” You shrieked and slapped him. The mask moved as his head snapped to the side. He caught your wrist and with his other hand, gripped your cheeks hard enough to still you.

“I wouldn’t kill you. But don’t get too confident.” Cooper lowly warned and leaned down. His gloved fingers, warm against your skin and you tried to wiggle away. Unhappy with your struggle, Cooper pushed you on your back on the bed.

He was strong enough to pin you without much effort, one hand holding both your wrists and the other held himself up at the side of your head. “I’m not gonna kill you but if you don’t stop being a bad girl, I will make you very scared. You don’t want that.”

“Fuck you.” You spit on the mask and he snarled. Cooper ripped it off and even in the dark, you could see the rage in his expression.

“Apologize. Now.” You glared at him and set your mouth in a firm line.

He gave you a sadistic smile and nodded. “If you weren’t so wet right now, I’d believe that little look of hate.” Your nipples hardened but you tried to kick him. Cooper slipped his hand inside your shorts, cupping your dampened underwear in the center.

“Yeah, there it is. That’s what happens when you get all worked up by me.” You whined as he sank two thick fingers inside you, ignoring the pad. Your bleeding was heavy enough that you knew blood was leaking on his skin.

A surge of urgency kicked in when he curled his digits, you frenziedly tried to escape but Cooper leaned his weight down. His leg further separating yours. “If you don’t stop, you don’t get to cum.” You inhaled sharply as he buried his face in your neck.

His lips skated along your skin, almost applying teeth but he didn’t give you what you deeply craved. “Say sorry. Or else this will be harder for you.”

You shook your head and he tilted his head. Cooper darted out his tongue, finally tasting your flesh and he sucked at your pulse point. You let out a choked moan as he increased his pace with his fingers. He removed them, pulling them up and he admired the crimson stain.

“Blood never hurt anyone.” He gave you a wink and you mewled as he thrusted them back in. You started grinding subconsciously, needing every single ounce of friction but he held off.

“Say sorry and I will give it to you.” Cooper offered and you blinked away tears. “Poor dumb little girl. Trying to resist it. You know who’s in control, don’t you?” His thick brow was raised and he gave your cunt a harsh slap.

You felt the moisture slip from your eyes and you trembled. Cooper gave your pussy a couple more slaps, moving your clit and squeezing your folds. It was torture. But the thin line of pride wouldn’t let you say yes yet.

You felt the handle of the blade fit snugly in your entrance and you cried out. Fully whimpering and clawed at his hand that held yours down.

Cooper was vicious in the way he pumped it in you but stopped every time you almost came.

“Okay! I’m sorry!” You wept and he cooed.

“Yeah? Say it again. One more time.” He prompted and you obeyed.

“I’m sorry,” Your lower lip stuck out and he caught it between his teeth. He lightly pulled it and removed the knife handle.

Cooper tapped the blade against your panties and cut them. He tore the rest of the material, discarding them and the pad. Your cunt throbbed as he pushed down his pants, ripping off his black costume and revealed his plaid shirt.

You could see his big dick twitch and precum leaking from the tip. You didn’t have much time to admire it as he held one thigh open, pumped himself a few times and his other palm wrapped around your throat.

Cooper pushed into you, slowly and the tightness took his girth painfully. His lower stomach hitting your clit and you felt like you were going to burst. Even with the slip of blood. Your mouth hung open and Cooper let spit fall. He thrusted hard, grunting and he tightened his hold on your neck. You made a low sound of discomfort and he lifted your leg higher.

“I love that you think I care that it hurts. This is my fucking pussy, mine to fuck. Mine to taste. Mine to breed. You’re a sick little whore.” His filthy words made your eyes roll back as he built up rhythm.

Cooper kissed you fiercely, moaning against your lips and you both moved furiously. You were devouring each other that you momentarily forgot the circumstances or how fucked this was.

Your climax hit you, the uncoiling in your stomach exploded and your back arched. His hand pulled off your throat and went to pull your thighs over his shoulders. He hit a deeper angle that made you unable to hold in a scream.

He watched his cock fill you up over and over again. Coated in cum and blood.

“Feel me in your guts, little one? How fucking desperate do you have to be to let a killer do this?” He growled and rasped. His own release was approaching and you groggily let your head lull.

Ropes of his cum coated your insides and you felt his dick pulse in you. Another orgasm hit you and you could barely chase it. Cooper set your thighs down, scooping his arms underneath you and set you on his lap. In a cradle. You both panted and his sweaty forehead rested against yours.

“Did that fulfill that fantasy of yours?” Cooper chuckled and you nodded with barely audible reply. You had both established this scene days ago.

You’d wanted to fuck a man in a mask. And he had been happy to entertain your ideas. Especially since you and Cooper had been seeing each other for a few weeks. You hadn’t told your father yet.

He rubbed your back as fatigue came over you. “I wasn’t too hard on you, right?” He asked and you shook your head.

“Mmm. It was perfect.” You whispered and drifted off.

Cooper smiled and pushed your hair off your neck. He held you securely and let his mind fall to the truth. It was no coincidence he was so good at this role play.

You sell a good lie by incorporating the truth. Cooper was the Ghostface killer. And he was also your boyfriend. He wouldn’t ever kill you but he did revel in the genuine flash of fear in your eyes.

He had his next victim planned out. A regular at the diner you worked at. It was a very successful night.

Tagging: @xxbimbobunnyxx @cxrrodedcoffin @userchai @hereforthehitsbaby @hibiskooks @rosaleelovesdilfs @rubyfruitjungle @justafangirls-blog @amethystblackkchaos @strangererotica I can’t remember everyone because I’m exhausted

[bvidzsoo]

Stern, but sweet

✎ Teacher!San ✎

TW: nothing, just San being soft and hansome

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: Helleur, lovelies! As you can see, those pictures are from San's latest YouTube live, which means I was inspired by it (dies). Also, it's the first time San bias wrecked me and I sincerely hope it stays that way, I've already got 3 official wreckers (dies again). Idk what this is, but he gave me cute aggression and at the same time the need to crawl up a wall...how is that possible? Anyways, enjoy, feedback is always welcomed!

so, you had been working at this school for a year now and you absolutely loved your job

the kids are lovely and you happened to grow attached to them quite fast, wanting to ensure they got the adequate education

but when it comes to your colleagues, well, they are quite boring

most of them are well past the age of 40 and they prefer going straight home after work, most of times refusing your invitations for a dinner between co-workers

and it also doesn't help much that you're a lot younger than most, making you feel left out when you hear them conversing about topics that you're either not interested in or just simply don't understand, like: raising children and maintaining a family at home

but when one of the homeroom teacher moves away and the school is in a frenzy to find someone fit for the job, a man around your age seems to confidently accept the challenge

Choi San, is his name

and my lord, when I tell you he's absolutely ravishing with his sharp eyes and soft looking skin

he looks like someone who would discipline you at the slightest misbehavior, and you don't know how to feel about it at first

but then he smiles and those cute dimples in his cheeks make you absolutely swoon over him, his aura so warm and lovely

you've come to know that Choi San is a man with a colorful personality

in his own class, he's very authoritative and stern, he doesn't allow his students to slack, and he doesn't accept any excuses as to why they haven't done their math homework

but San is an amazing teacher, and despite his subject being math, which many students tend to hate, those who he teaches just simply can't wait for his class to come

despite being stern and quite serious, he always cracks harmless jokes while explaining the hardest equations and theories, lightening the mood, and also helping the students focus

they love San in and outside of the classroom

whenever they have a problem, they know they can go to him as he will listen, giving them smart advice instead of rolling his eyes at them and telling them to get lost (like their last homeroom teacher had done so many times)

when there's a conflict, he first listens to both sides and then comes up with a solution (or punishment) that is fair and doesn't favor a student (like their previous homeroom teacher had done quite often)

but San, with his positive and warm energy, seems to also light up your office, the grumpy older teachers laughing a bit more often, a lot more open-minded with San here now

and well, you're a simple woman and you can't really help yourself when you start swooning over him (of course, when he's not watching you or paying attention to you) about just how perfect, and dreamy, he actually is

San was the one to approach you, and you quite liked that as he talked to you freely as if you had known each other for ages

you feel your most authentic self around him, never having to worry that he'll judge you or make fun of you behind your back (like you have caught a few of your fellow co-workers doing so before)

and seriously, San is just so good with children, that you can't help yourself as you develop a crush on him rapidly

and you hope he doesn't notice the way you gaze at him longingly when he's explaining something thoroughly to his students, or pats them on the head as encouragement, or even brings them candy so he can give it as a reward when they excel on their tests

and you certainly hope he doesn't see the way you stare at him for minutes at a time when you're both in your office, your cubicles next to each other, him busy typing on his computer and you busy...well staring at San

and you definitely do not absolutely die when one Friday he asks if you're doing anything later that night, eager to go to the new Amusement Park, saying he was thinking of inviting a few other colleagues as well since he's on good terms with them

you hate Amusement Parks, but if San loves them, well...you might grow to dislike them a little less

and so you definitely do not dress up all cute and spend two hours on your makeup and hair just because San invited you (and your colleagues, but you tend to ignore that part) out

what the two of you absolutely do not expect is for your colleagues to bail on you last minute, all of them saying the same excuse, "something came up, but we should go next time"

and perhaps you die a little on the inside, because you suddenly realize just how of an awkward person the both of you are, blushing and quickly avoiding eye contact when you catch the other one already looking

you don't want to tell San that you're afraid of heights and anything that goes with high speed when he points excitedly at the large roller-coaster, telling you how he's been waiting all day to go on it

you say nothing, you suck it up, because you're an adult and this is your work crush, and perhaps because the way San has been paying attention to you all evening, keeping people away from your body in the crowd as you moved around, or how without touching you, would hold his arm out behind your back when someone walked too close, made you feel rather comfortable in his presence

so, you brace yourself for the ride and certainly don't tremble as San helps you inside the cabin, sitting down next to you

once you're tied up and secured inside of it, is when you start praying to all Gods to give you strength so that you don't lose your mind during the ride

what you don't expect is San noticing how nervous and pale you are, grabbing your hand and interlacing your fingers with his as the ride takes off, making you clutch onto his hand for dear life

and the ride is so much fun that you're surprised how much you're enjoying it, but perhaps it's also because San keeps making you laugh and keeps talking to you, holding onto you

what you don't expect, once again, is him not letting go of your hand once you get off the ride, and instead he pulls you towards a photobooth, saying he wants to commemorate tonight's 'date'

oh, and you certainly don't faint when San decides to press a kiss against your cheek as the camera goes off for the last photo

seems like your work crush was crushing back on you, huh?

(seems like all of your coworkers knew about it and cancelled last minute on purpose as they've been secretly shipping the two of you and making bets about when you'd finally start dating)

Masterlist

↳ Perm. taglist: @jjoongstar @tinyelfperson @thestarskiller

❀ complete the forms if you're interested! ^^

[couragemydearheart]

៚⋆˙⟡ 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬.

# 01 — nanami kento x fem! reader # 02 — cw: fluff, soft soft nanami and soft soft reader because that man deserves all the happiness he can get # 03 — wc: 0.63k # 04 — an: so jujutsu kaisen is my latest obsession because i finished watching it just recently, and i just loved nanami so much, he didn't deserve what he got (like so many other favs T-T GEGE WHEN I CATCH YOU GEGE) so i decided to shower him with some loveee

and since i obviously needed a push, i came across this post and i loved the prompts so much, so thanks to @urfriendlywriter (i was in desperate need of writing prompts and finding your post on my dashboard was a fucking blessing) this one-shot will be based off no. 7! the prompt for reference is: "that gaze— tired, soft, their thumb gently rubbing your cheek, noses touching, silently mumbling an "i love you"."

anyways, apologies for the long ass author's note, hope y'all enjoy <3

"is that your favourite bread?"

those were your first words to nanami. and you found yourself repeating them quite often as your relationship with him evolved.

starting off as co-workers when you moved into town, you and nanami hadn't spoken a word to each other, or rather had never had a need to converse with the other until then. your co-workers were all friendly enough, but nearly all of them were older and had their own lives to be busy in. so you took it upon yourself to roam the new city on your own, finding and trying out new places, cute cafes, and of course your personal favourite: bakeries. a lover of all things sweet and savoury, you were nearly sure that you would open your own bakery after college were it not for this banking job you found. it was a shame you couldn't open your own place, but your new job paid you well enough to let you try out all the bakeries you wanted in peace. that was exactly how you came across this quaint little place a bit across town selling the most delicious bread.

so after spying the similar bread wrapping by his work desk nearly every week, you just hadn't been able to stop the words from leaving your mouth, especially since it was at the sight of a mutual interest.

it was however nanami's response that wasn't the same from the first time, and you were glad for it. when you asked him the question the very first time, he was rather indifferent, a bit surprised that someone had initiated conversation with him and slightly miffed about it interrupting his work. and now, nanami smiled at you fondly from the entrance of your shared kitchen where he leaned against the doorframe, before he took the bread from its place under his arm and placed it on the counter. "and yours, my love," he hums in reply to your question.

you couldn't help the giggle that slipped your lips at his reply as you turned the stove off and moved towards him. "mhmm." standing mere inches away from him now, you placed your hands on his chest, sliding them up until your fingers deftly undid the knot of his tie as they'd done countless times before. "that it is. a favourite just as much as you are, kento."

you could have predicted his response to your corny line in your sleep, the shaking of his shoulders with his throaty chuckle paired with the slightest eye roll. your smile widened at the light in his eyes, and you gripped his now unknotted tie and pulled him closer to you until you could feel his warm breath fan across your lips as he spoke. "really? just as much as the bread, but not more?"

he was teasing you, and you clicked your tongue at him, eyes full of mirth looking up at him. "don't get ahead of yourself now darling, we may be married but that doesn't-"

your voice dissolved into shrieks and giggles as nanami's fingers tickled and teased at your sides and his teeth nipped at your neck. "okay, okay, kento!" another little bite. "ken- okay i was kidding!," you whined at your husband, making him finally relent.

"what was it you were saying just now?" he mocked. "wanna repeat it for me, darling?"

“nooo, ken you know you’re my favourite.” you smiled up at him, eyes shining with so much love for the man before you. “more than anything else.”

and that gaze— tired, soft, his thumb gently rubbing your cheek, noses touching, silently mumbling an "i love you" before he presses a slow kiss to your lips and leans his forehead against yours. then he speaks.

"you're my favourite too, over everything else."

taglist

@luvhkit (hi, you'd asked to be tagged on a reiner fic i wrote ages ago and im writing after so long so idk if you meant just aot/reiner fics, but i tagged you just in case, so i hope this is okay and feel free to let me know otherwise <3) @nerdyfuntheorist (im backkkkk)

i hope y'all enjoy reading this as much as i loved writingg! feedback is always appreciated and feel free to send in requests <3

— © property of couragemydearheart. do not copy or post on any other site without permission.

[heavensoutofsight]

all i see is green - [billie eilish x reader]

synopsis: billie is the lovely college student who lives in the same apartment complex as you. you don't interpret her friendliness as anything other than just that; being nice for the sake of being nice. but her true motives eventually slip through the crack, and the both of you find yourself playing a dangerous game.

tags/warnings: college student!billie x older!reader (they're exactly ten years apart - reader is 32 and billie is 22), milf reader basically, reader is a single parent, neighbors to friends to not quite lovers, mutual pining, sexual content, angst

word count: 3,278

author's note: sorry this took so long omg. so happy to finally get this out as it has been plaguing my mind for weeks lol. please mind the warnings! hope you guys enjoy. notes and reblogs are always appreciated <3

It started off completely innocent.

Billie was such a kind, selfless young woman. That was your first impression of her when she moved into the apartment just below yours. You'll never forget that fateful day, when you were struggling with carrying groceries up the stairs, your pregnant belly making the trip up to your place more challenging then it should've been. But then, seemingly out of nowhere, Billie had pulled up, her backup slung over her shoulders, coming back home from classes. Without even giving you the choice, she helped you carry the plastic bags up the stairs. She even offered to help you put them up, but you knew she had more important things to tend to, like assignments and studying and whatnot, so you politely declined. Before she left, she smiled warmly at you, the corners of her deep blue eyes crinkling as she did so. She told you her name, Billie, and ever since then you never forgot it.

“Goodbye, Miss ____!” She had said, waving cutely at you. You waved back, endeared by her thoughtfulness.

It was a normal, neighborly thing for her to do. You didn't expect that interaction to blossom into anything more. Occasionally, you ran into each other at the convenience store, or maybe at a coffee shop, where you two would briefly talk – you'd talk about how work was going, and she'd rant about some school project or some annoying thing her professor did. Whenever you were speaking, Billie would maintain eye contact, nodding and listening attentively, and it only made you like her more. She was respectful, genuinely funny, and wise beyond her years. You enjoyed those moments of small talk between you and her; and for a while, that was it.

Your conversations with Billie became more frequent, however, some time after you gave birth to your daughter. You'll never forget Billie stopping by your apartment to meet her, completely enamored by her. You could tell Billie loved kids; she was a natural with them. It warmed your heart to see your daughter wrap her small hand around Billie's finger, staring up at her with big doe eyes, ever so curious.

Billie came by often just to check on her, and you didn't mind it one bit. Every time she stopped by, the two of you would talk about everything and anything under the sun. Despite the fact that Billie was only twenty-two, and you had just reached your thirties, you had so much in common with her, and talking to her was so easy. She was becoming a true friend, one who always listened to you, helped you, and supported you.

At some point, Billie had offered to help with babysitting on the nights when you wanted to hang out with co-workers or had some important business trip or work meeting. You trusted Billie completely, and when she first asked you, you didn't even hesitate in telling her yes. You knew your child was in good, loving hands. You paid her handsomely for her work, even giving her a key to your place for emergencies or other special occasions. You were so touched about the fact that although Billie was busy enough as a college student, she was willing to make herself even busier if it meant helping you.

You hadn't felt true support like that in a while. You had friends, and you knew they cared for you, but they were busy with their jobs, not to mention they didn't exactly live close to you. On top of that, they had families and spouses. You were single and always too tired to do anything with them. There were some days where all of your schedules would align and you'd be lucky enough to do something, but the older you got, the more you found yourself just wanting to relax at home and be lazy. It started to get to you after a while. You felt like you were missing out. On what exactly, you weren't sure.

Loneliness was a bitch, and it started eating away at you. You remember coming home after a long work meeting, feeling particularly miserable about your social life; but when you opened the door, you were greeted with Billie, who was cooking dinner in your kitchen, your baby presumably sleeping peacefully in her crib. Billie had smiled at you when you opened the door, and this time, her smile did something to you. It made you feel warm all over. And the fact that she had made you dinner, probably knowing that you'd be too exhausted to cook upon coming home, just made you more touched.

You ate dinner with her and talked about random things like you always did. You talked for even longer than normal, until the sun had long since dipped past the horizon. You were sipping on a glass of wine (because Billie had claimed that it looked like you needed some, which you laughed at), while Billie sipped on some lemonade. You both were sitting comfortably on the couch together, leaving some space between the two of you.

It was fine, perfectly fine and totally casual, until you started getting a bit tipsy. More emotional. You were ranting to Billie about how lonely you were. How no one seemed interested in you anymore. How insecure you had become after having your baby.

Billie just silently listened, holding out her hand. You took it, without thinking. She held your hand firmly, rubbing her thumb across the back of it. The gesture made you melt. You didn't even realize she had scooted closer to you as you were rambling. Her leg brushed against yours.

Suddenly, Bille had gently taken the wine glass you were holding out of your hand, placing it on the table, effectively silencing you. With watery eyes, you looked at her, slightly puzzled. Her icy blue ones were full of sympathy and pity for you. She then moved one of her hands to cup the side of your face, where she gently caressed your cheek.

There was a small voice in the back of your mind that was yelling at you to stop her. But something was keeping you from doing that. Something stronger that took over your entire being.

“You have me, so you're never alone. I will always give you the appreciation you deserve.” Billie spoke softly, her eyes never once leaving you. What she said next almost had you breathless.

“Can I show you how much you mean to me?” She asked, biting her bottom lip. You looked down at her mouth as she did so, the feeling of desire completely overwhelming you. You had to rub your thighs together when you saw a smirk slowly grow on her face, her bottom lip still caught between her pearly white teeth.

You wanted to resist. You wanted to be the bigger person and not cave in. But the alcohol in your system clouded your judgment. You weren't thinking about the possible consequences that would come with hooking up with her. You were only thinking about how much she wanted you, and how much you wanted her.

When you didn't speak for a while, Billie knew that it was because you were contemplating what to do. She knew you were fighting yourself and that you just needed a little push. And push, she did.

“Please, baby,” she begged. “Let me show you. Let me help you forget everything that makes you sad. Please.”

The way her eyebrows furrowed, the way her voice sounded as she pleaded to you – it was the final straw.

Without any warning, you closed the distance between you and her. Her plush lips were as soft as they looked. You could taste the sweetness of the lemonade she drank on her tongue. This was wrong, so wrong, but it felt so right.

That night, Billie followed through on her words. You weren't thinking about your pathetic life or your stupid boss. You were only thinking about how good her fingers felt in your pussy. She curled them just right, hitting that spot inside of you that made you see stars. At some point she had gotten on her knees, devouring you like you were her last meal. You had to keep a hand over your mouth the entire time as to not wake your sleeping baby.

She had already made you cum on her fingers and was determined to make you do it again on her face. You were so close – your hands were buried in her long hair as you felt the tension building within you, threatening to snap. You felt tears run down your cheeks at how good it all felt. You hadn't felt pleasure like this in months. Not even your own hand could make you feel like this – like you were on another fucking planet.

But – your daughter must've gently stirred in her sleep, because she had eventually woken up anyway, right as Billie was about to make you come undone.

When the sound of your daughter's cries fill the room, you had completely snapped out of the carnal lust that had overtaken you. A realization washed over you like crashing waves against the shore.

You quickly pushed Billie away, standing up and picking up your pants that had been haphazardly discarded.

Billie wiped her mouth, getting off the floor and standing alongside you. “Want me to take care of it?” She offered, referring to your crying baby. You immediately shook your head.

“No. Billie, you need to leave.” You said sternly as you pulled up your jeans.

Billie seemed confused upon hearing your words, her eyebrows drawn together. “But… I wasn't done-”

“It doesn't matter. Please, go.” You told her, not even sparing her a glance as you stormed off toward your bedroom, where your daughter’s cries could be heard. You could hear Billie’s hurried footsteps behind you.

“Wait–” You heard her say, but the plea fell on deaf ears. All you were concerned with now was comforting your child.

When you approached your baby’s crib, you scooped her into your arm, bouncing her gently. After a couple minutes, she eventually calmed down, resting her head on your shoulder as you cradled her.

Billie stood in the doorway, watching you soothe your child.

“Can we talk about this for a moment?” Billie asked, her arms folded across her chest. You still had your eyes locked onto your daughter's watery ones. She was mostly quiet now, resting her head on your shoulder. It took every ounce of courage to turn around and face Billie, but eventually you did, finding yourself unable to look directly into her eyes that were filled with hurt and desperation. Her hair was slightly ruffled from when your fingers were buried in it just moments before. You made the mistake of glancing down at her lips, fighting against the strong urge to kiss her senseless again.

“Sure,” you replied, voice unsteady. “We can talk.”

“Great.” Billie said, fully entering your room and closing the door. She sat on your bed, still staring at you intensely. You continued standing by the crib, holding your daughter close. She was still awake, sucking on her thumb.

“Why are you pushing me away all of a sudden?” Billie asked, getting straight to the point. She didn't sound angry; instead, you heard confusion and sadness in her tone.

“Because I just… had some sense knocked into me and I couldn't let it go any further.”

“Why? What… what does that even mean?” Billie asked.

“Billie, you're so young. You deserve someone closer to your age. I'm a single mother with a lot of fucking baggage and I don't want you to feel tied down by me.” You admitted.

Billie scoffed. “I don't want someone my own age. I only have eyes for you. And the fact that you have a kid doesn't bother me. I'm literally babysitting for you, for fuck's sake.”

“Billie–” you started, letting out a sigh. You cut yourself off as you felt your arms getting tired. Glancing down at your daughter, you noticed that her eyes had fallen shut once again, and you were glad you could finally put her down. You gently placed her back in her crib, laying her down on her belly. You watched her for a few extra seconds to make sure she stayed asleep before moving to join Billie on your bed. You made sure to keep a small amount of space between the two of you.

“Billie,” you continued. “Trust me when I say this. You have a bright future ahead of you. I just want you to make the right choice. I think lust might be clouding your judgment–”

“I don't only have lust for you. I like you. So fucking much. I want to be in your life, and in your daughter's life. I'm old enough to know what I'm getting myself into.”

“But you're only a college student, Billie. You've got your own responsibilities, and I've got mine.” You responded.

“Baby, listen. Please.” Billie said urgently, grabbing both of your hands. “Be honest with yourself. When's the last time someone made you feel this special? Wanted? Loved?”

As much as you hated to admit it, you knew what the answer was. It had been ages since the last time you were in any kind of fulfilling relationship. The last person you were romantically involved with was the father of your kid, and only now that you were out of the relationship you realized how much it lacked. There was no warmth; the two of you just stayed together for the sake of your baby, because you both foolishly thought that having a child would repair your broken relationship. It obviously didn't.

“Billie… I…” you quickly realized that you couldn't give a proper response.

“I meant what I said earlier. I want to give you all the appreciation in the world. I want to be the one that makes you laugh. The one that makes you feel fulfilled.”

You felt a stinging sensation in your eyes, your vision beginning to blur a bit, tears threatening to spill. Everything that Billie was saying – you wanted it more than anything. But you had to make the right choice, as much as it killed you.

“I can get fulfillment elsewhere. From someone else.” You told her, but the words came out with a hint of uncertainty in your voice, like you didn't even believe what you were saying. Truthfully, you didn't.

“I'm sure you could. But you don't want someone else, do you?” She asked.

You fell silent, refusing to give Billie an answer; but Billie knew what that silence meant.

“You want me just as much as I want you, and you can't admit that.” She spoke for you. It was like she was reading your mind; hearing your inner-most thoughts that you were far too ashamed to say out loud yourself.

“What are you afraid of?” Billie continued. “Judgment from other people?”

“I'm not afraid of anything, Billie.” You lied. “I'm just doing what's best for both of us.”

Billie looked at you with an expression that clearly revealed that she didn't believe anything you were telling her. But at this point, you didn't care if she believed you or not. You just wanted her to leave; even just her scent was driving you crazy and you couldn't stand her body being this close to yours anymore.

“What's best for both of us? Really?” She said, and you could hear in her voice that she seemed exasperated, growing tired of trying to convince you.

“Okay, then. I'm going to give you a choice. If you want me to leave, then I'll leave, and we'll go back to being friends. But if you want me to stay… then I'll stay, and we can pick up where we left off.” Billie said, her voice lowering ever so slightly. Earlier, you pushed Bille off of you before you could cum a second time and you were still feeling that ache between your legs, even more so now seeing Billie's hungry stare as she brought up your little moment on the couch; but fortunately you had enough self-control to not give in to Billie's offer.

“You should go.” You replied. The words came out strained, like it physically hurt you to say them.

Billie seemed taken aback, stunned into silence, but her face quickly morphed into an expression of acceptance.

“Okay. I'll go. I respect your choice.” She said softly. She was about to get up and head to the door, but not before leaning in and placing a kiss on your cheek. Feeling her lips on your skin set you aflame, and you wanted nothing more than for those lips to kiss you everywhere else, but once again, you fought against your desires.

She walked to the door, but before opening it and leaving, she told you: “If you ever change your mind, just call me.”

You didn't even look at her. “Goodnight, Billie.” You said coldly.

Billie gave you one last intense stare, waiting for you to cave in at the last minute – but when you just continued staring at the floor, not even acknowledging her presence anymore, she finally opened the door and left, shutting it behind her.

That's when everything broke for you, the tears beginning to freely fall, your sniffles and quiet sobs filling the room. You laid down, burying your face into a pillow to muffle the noise, your sleeping child completely oblivious to everything that just transpired. You felt ridiculous, crying over a relationship that hadn't even fully blossomed. You didn't even know why you were crying– you had told her to leave, and she did, respecting your wishes. You tried to tell yourself that her leaving was a good thing, and yet you weren't feeling any better. Billie had said that you could just go back to being friends with her, but you didn't even think that was possible. You had already fallen for her, and there was no way you could go back to hanging out with her casually without thinking back to the way she kissed you, the way she always made you feel that stupid fluttery feeling in your stomach, the image of her face between your legs, staring up at you like you were a goddess.

That's when you remembered; you were still aroused, even though you were crying into a pillow. That annoying ache was still making itself known, only made worse by your brain making you relive what happened in your living room.

You rolled over onto your back, wiping your eyes dry and letting out a tired sigh. You unbuttoned your pants, getting out of them completely. Your hand then found its way past the waistband of your underwear, where you rubbed your clit with clumsy fingers. You weren't nearly as precise as Billie. You also weren't that wet anymore and it didn't even feel that great but you just needed a fucking release. You closed your eyes, thinking about the sensation of Billie's tongue on your folds and the way she gripped your thighs. You thought back to the way her fingers filled you perfectly. With those images in mind, it didn't take you long to finally reach your peak, keeping your other hand over your mouth as you rode out your orgasm.

You laid there afterward, breathing heavily, your eyelids feeling as if they weighed a ton. The last thing on your mind before you succumbed to sleep was your lovely neighbor, Billie. And to think it all started with her helping you with fucking groceries.

(author's note: sequel?? maybe??? 🤔)

[ventismacchiato]

mr. oblivious

The entire staff at the new school you work at consistently attempt at getting you and another rather aloof teacher, Kuni, together after witnessing you interact quite often. The catch is that you both are married, and none of the staff have figured it out, yet.

scaramouche x g!n reader

established relationship, married, modern teacher au

2.7k words

a/n: sorry if it clogs up ur feed 😭 everytime i do the keep reading thing it crashes for me so, transferred from ao3 so if there’s any weird typos lmk

It took about three weeks at your new job for you to notice something was going on with your co-workers, and your students as well to top it off. It was as if they were all in on some inside joke you weren’t a part of, or perhaps the center of it. But that might just be your own insecurities about being the newest teacher at this school.

You had recently been laid off as a literature teacher after working at the same high school for a few years due to lack of budget to support the creative arts.

So, instead of educating high schoolers, you deemed it would be much better to teach a group of younger kids, much easier and stress free. After a couple of weeks you had gotten a job as the Art teacher at the very school your husband worked at thanks to his recommendation. Everyone there was very accepting of you and you felt right at home, for a while at least.

It was much different then being a literature professor for older kids, now you got to do finger painting for a living. And even though your English degree was collecting dust, (you shed a tear at this every night), you were actually enjoying your time teaching for once. Little children were much more bearable than high schoolers. There were no love triangles you had to deal with, kids giving handjobs under the desks, or getting paper planes thrown at you. The most drama that ever happened in your elementary classes was when Timmie wouldn’t share the red crayons with anyone.

Well, you were enjoying it. Past tense.

Ever since you ended up catching teachers and students halting their whispers when you walked by you’ve been rather uneasy.

You brought it up to Kuni during dinner one night and the other male merely shrugged, but that one was on you though. Kuni didn’t interact with any of his co-workers unless he absolutely had to. It was a surprise he was a favorite teacher among the students, unbeknownst to you it was because the children found the male handsome and his teaching style atrocious.

You were surprised to learn none of your co-workers had even held a coherent conversation with Kuni, despite him working there for much of his career. So when Venti, one of the school’s music teachers, let out a gasp at seeing Kuni sitting beside you in the staff room, he was taken aback. Kuni never went out of his way to make new friends, it seems he was content with the little to no socializing he did in college and called it a day.

“So, what’s your secret?” Venti sang, sidling up next to you as he poured himself a cup of coffee, “How’d you get the ever so stoic Kuni to talk to you for longer than a minute?”

“What are you on about?” you chuckled, taking a tentative sip of the hot beverage, you didn’t want to burn your tongue again, it had ruined your entire week last time, “I just talk?”

Venti and you quickly clicked upon your moving careers, there was something calming about the constant chitter chatter that left his mouth. Although, it was also a little annoying at times. Like right now.

“Last time I did that he just glared at me,” Venti dramatically sighed, “Maybe he has his eyes on you.”

“Ooh, are we talking about KuniYn?” Lisa grinned, the actual English teacher, walking into the staff room.

“What the hell is KuniYn?” you questioned, growing uncomfortable, why was everyone obsessing over you and Kuni? Was this their way of welcoming you?

“I’m going to exit this conversation now,” you mumbled, turning around when you bumped into the other half of said conversation.

And to your horror, a little splash of his coffee landed on the other male.

A collective gasp was heard from the staff room, preparing themselves for the ever so aloof male to lash out. Last time Bennett spilled his drink on Kuni the dark-haired male had the entire staff shaking in their seats.

“Careful,” Kuni mumbled, catching his arm on your shoulder to steady you before making his way past you to make himself a cup of coffee, not batting an eye as he grabbed a napkin and dabbed at it to lessen the soak.

“Fuck, sorry,” you immediately apologized, grabbing the napkin from Kuni and placing your mug down, “Do you want my jacket?”

“It’s fine,” Kuni assured, picking up your mug and handing it back to you before grabbing his own mug that was now full and leaving the room, but not before patting your waist fondly on his way out.

You made sure to pointedly ignore Venti and Lisa’s loud snickers as you hurriedly left the room.

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Everyone’s intentions became clear when you overheard your own students conversing about you. The utter betrayal.

You were running a little late to your class that afternoon after a lively student had spilled glitter on you earlier that morning, you spent a good five minutes scrubbing it off your hands in the staff bathroom before making your way back to class. You had left your classroom door ajar in a hurry to leave, which made it easy for you to eavesdrop on your students when you heard Kuni’s name spoken for the nth time that day.

“I saw them eating lunch in Sir Kuni’s room the other day when I went to get my backpack!” Luo insisted, a lollipop hanging halfway out of her mouth as the group that had gathered around her table eagerly nodded along to her story, “I think they like-like each other!”

“Like-like?” Qiqi drawled out, tapping her chin, “That’s very serious.“

“We should make them be a couple!” Klee giggled, clapping her hands, “Teacher Y/n is very nice! Mister Kuni is too strict for them but it’s okay.”

So this was what your coworkers were giggling about, they thought that you and Kuni were pining for each other. Which wasn’t necessarily untrue, but had Kuni really not mentioned being married even once?

Truth be told, you never wore your ring to school, you didn’t want any paint or glitter to get stuck between the diamonds and have to pay to get it cleaned, but did Kuni really leave his ring at home too? Seems even Mathematics teachers were prone to disasters via children.

“Alright, back to your respected tables, please,” you greeted as you made your way back into class, ignoring the exuberant glances the children gave you. “Valentines is coming up this week, how about we make little cards for your friends?”

“Or boyfriends,” Klee giggled behind her hands as the class shrieked in laughter. You merely patted her on the head and sighed. Today was going to be quite the long day.

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“—I say we send Y/n a Valentine in Kuni’s name, we all know he won’t do it himself!” Venti rebuked, pointing an accusatory finger at Hutao.

“Shouldn’t we give him the benefit of the doubt!” Hutao huffed in response, “They’re clearly into one another.”

“You got it all wrong, Y/n will make the first move and we should allow them to do so,” Xingqiu, the school’s librarian, drawled, tapping his finger on his chin. “I believe they will ask Kuni out on Valentine’s!”

“Are you guys chatting about me again?” you deadpanned, already backing out of the room, but your back ran into something, or rather someone.

“Clumsy as always,” Kuni murmured, placing a hand on your waist and gently pushing you out of the way, “What are you idiots looking at?” he questioned, glaring at Venti who was stifling a laugh.

“You never come in here, I should be interrogating you!” Xiangling defended, hands on her hips.

“Lunch,” Kuni dryly stated, reverting back to his one word answers, and handed a bag to you, “You said you were craving Chinese earlier.”

The familiar smell of fried rice wafted through the room as you peered inside the bag, “You remembered? Thank you.”

Kuni hummed, turning to leave the staff room and hermit himself in his classroom once again.

The moment he left all hell broke loose.

“SEE! I knew Kuni would make a move!”

“But it’s not Valentine’s yet! Y/n still has a chance!"

“We should just lock them up at this rate, this is getting frustrating.”

You clutched the bag tightly and walked out the room, ignoring the shouts questioning the nature of you and Kuni’s relationship that your coworkers shot behind you.

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“Kuni?” you called out, knocking on the door as you opened it, which took away the action’s purpose but you were impatient.

Said male looked up from where he was typing and gave you a glance before averting his eyes back, humming to show he was listening.

“Have you eaten yet?” you asked, shutting the door behind you as you pulled up one of the students’ chairs to sit beside Kuni, leaning back into it as Kuni gestured to his half finished take out box.

“Everyone thinks you and I have a crush on each other,” you blurted, leaning your chin on your palm as you watched Kuni work, watching how his nimble fingers came to a stop at your words.

“A crush?” Kuni repeated, turning to face you, “What? That’s childish.”

“They don’t know we’re married!” you huffed, “Did you not tell them? Where’s your ring?”

“It never came up,” Kuni mused, “Last time I wore my ring I took it off to help a teacher out and when I came back the brats were tossing it, so I started leaving it at home.”

“Oh, it seems they’ve never seen us with our rings,” you frowned, causing Kuni to spin on his chair to face you, an amused smile on his face.

“They just can’t believe I managed to make you mine,” Kuni shrugged, chuckling at the immediate shove you sent to his shoulder.

“Stop trying to be corny,” you smiled, reaching out to tug on his dress shirt and yank him closer.

Without a second of hesitation, your guys’ lips interlocked as if it were second nature. The familiarity behind Kuni’s every touch was still as refreshing as it was years ago when you both first met.

The moment was interrupted with a gasp from afar, and both of you pulled apart to see who had walked in on them, exhaling a sigh of relief to see it wasn’t one of the students. But perhaps this was worse.

Kazuha was staring with a flushed face before he realized he had come over for a specific reason and walked up to Kuni’s desk, dropping a file onto it which led Kuni to groan and sadly flip through it.

“So how long have you two been together?” Kazuha drawled, leaning forward as Kuni shot him a glare. Despite being one of the few people Kuni actually sort of talked to, it seems even Kazuha hadn’t known of their relationship status.

“Since graduating college, married now,” you answered, earning a smile from Kazuha as he nodded, turning to make his leave.

“I’m so winning this bet–”

“What bet? KAZUHA GET BACK HERE! WHAT BET?!”

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Valentine’s day had finally decided to make an appearance, and the school would not let it pass by without a proper send off. The hallways were adorned with pink ribbons and little drawings the kids made, along with the occasional love is love poster and rainbow flag. There were streamers hanging on every doorway, and you couldn’t count how many kids you had to help untangle themselves after getting stuck.

At least it looked pretty.

“I tried to get them to sing Bad Romance, can you believe they’ve never heard of it?”

“Venti, they are children,” Kazuha mused, shaking his head as he unwrapped one of the many chocolates they had lying around for Valentines.

“As their other music teacher you should add it into the curriculum,” Venti huffed, perking up as you entered the room, “There they are!”

“Me?” you repeated, about to take a seat next to them when Xingqiu pointed to the large basket of flowers sitting on the table, “Looks like someone has an admirer,” you added, peering into the basket.

“It arrived this morning, the card says it’s addressed to you? But there’s no sender,” Xingqiu mused.

“Coward,” Lisa reprimanded, “How will I get my daily dose of drama if I don’t know who it’s from?”

“I can infer,” you laughed, tugging on the card, “Probably my husband,” you thought aloud as you read the writing, a smile growing on your face. You were so absorbed in the note that you didn’t notice the staff room grow quiet.

“Hold up, you’re married?!” Venti shrieked, getting up from his seat, “No way.”

“Is that unbelievable?” you frowned, holding up your left hand, “Been married for six years now.”

“Oh my god, we’ve been trying to set you up this entire time!” Xiangling cried out, covering her mouth, “This is so embarrassing! I didn’t know you had someone at home!”

“I’m surprised you guys didn’t know,” you sheepishly laughed, twirling one of the flowers from the basket between your fingers, “You guys have met him before.”

Kazuha snickered behind his chocolate bar as the other staff looked at him.

“So THAT’s why you made a bet saying Y/n married to someone, I thought you just had a gambling addiction,” Xiangling scoffed, hitting Kazuha on the shoulder as he cackled.

“Pay up,” Kazuha grinned as you shook your head.

“Can’t believe you all made a bet and tried to set me up,” you mumbled.

“Yikes, I told Kuni I would get him a date tonight with you offhandedly,” Lisa admitted, looking ashamed as the door to the staff door opened.

Kuni stepped in, but instead of letting him pass by unnoticed as usual you tugged on his sleeve, shooting him a soft smile.

“Thank you for the basket, Kuni,” you thanked, caressing the other male’s arm to show your affection. Neither of you were big on pda, it was a lot for you both to even hug in public. Mostly due to Kuni’s awkwardness with it, but he made up for it by showing affection behind closed doors.

Kuni merely hummed, awkwardly shuffling his feet, you felt a little bad about putting him on the spot but you wanted to show off your husband for once!

“Pause,” Venti stated, pointing between the two of them, “No fucking way.”

“I just lost so much money,” Lisa groaned, sucking her teeth and already pulling out her wallet as Kazuha gleefully counted his bills.

“I’m still processing,” Xingqiu murmured, staring between the two of them, “What, when, and where?”

“I don’t know what you mean by what, we started dating in senior year of highschool, and got married in the town Kuni grew up,” you answered, firmly grasping Kuni’s arm so as to not let him escape. He was already trying to run off.

“I owe Kazuha money?” Albedo questioned as he overheard the conversation walking into the staff room, “No way was his hypothesis correct.”

“Suck my dick,” Kazuha grinned, opening his palm as Albedo sighed and slapped a twenty on it, rolling his eyes as the other male gloated.

“You guys are so fucking annoying,” Kuni complained, but his threat didn’t look at all intimidating as you was pinching his cheek, “Do you really have nothing else to do then try to set me up? No wonder the education system is shit.”

“I’m surprised you even managed to score someone,” Venti giggled, dodging the box of candy Kuni picked up and tossed at him.

“I still have more game than all of you, where’s your partner?” Kuni countered.

“The audacity,” Albedo murmured as Venti huffed in response, the staff room bursting into laughter.

“Guess we need a new project,” Venti grieved, scanning the room till his eyes landed upon Kazuha, “I guess I’ll set you up with someone.”

“You’re gonna what?!” Kazuha exclaimed, his face aghast as the staff immediately started listing off potential candidates

You laughed as you watched Kazuha practically run away from Venti, who was interrogating him on which teachers he found the most attractive.

Your new co-workers were a bit crazy, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

The Babysitter (42)- Flour Fights

MILF Wanda Maximoff X Reader 18+

Summary: In need of money and a way to escape the problems at home, you get a job babysitting two lovely boys named Billy and Tommy Maximoff. What happens when you start to feel things you shouldn't for their mother? Will it bloom into love or leave you heartbroken?

A/N- I would just like to say that there will be some sensitive issues in this story such as alcoholism, homophobia, anxiety as well as more mature content such as smut so, if you continue to read this, please consider this warning.

The Babysitter Master list | General Master List

Chapter 42- W/c 5.8k

Flour Fights

Wiping the counter top down, you ensured that marble top was clean of the small amount of coffee a customer had spilt before turning around to continue your conversation with Peter and Gamora, a playful expression on both yours and Gamora’s face as you teased the brunette, his head shaking at your antics.

“I should report you both to the manager for bullying,” he grumbles in a joking manner as he expertly pours the milk into the drink to create a beautiful piece of art in the liquid, the way he effortlessly completes the task making you a little jealous as you had been trying to learn how to do latte art for a while and had failed miserably. “Oh wait, I am the manager,” his tone is laced with a hint of theatrics as he turned to his girlfriend before looking at you, raising his brow in faux warning. “Stop bullying your co-worker or I’ll put both of your shifts on rush hour,” Peter threatens with little conviction, knowing he wouldn’t be able to as all the shifts had been arranged specifically to fit around the last of the summer holidays, the man complaining less than an hour ago about how long it took and how he never wanted to plan shifts again. His words simply earnt a roll of Gamora’s eyes and a small smile from you at her reaction, the two of you trying your hardest not to tease him again when the bell at the front door rang, signalling a new customer.

At the sight of a familiar set of auburn locks and two very energetic boys, the corner of your lips lifted at the sight of them as Wanda’s eyes flickered around your place of work for a table, quickly spotting a nice booth to sit in before ushering the twins into it. A motherly look appeared on her face, the familiar sight endearing for you to see as her hands fixed Tommy’s hair as he sat down before caressing Billy’s shoulder in an affectionate way, the older woman murmuring something to them before making her way over, a mischievous smile on her face as her alluring green caught yours, heat instantly rising to your cheeks.

“I’ll get this one,” you murmur to Gamora as she approached the countertop to take Wanda’s order, her brow raising at you suspiciously at the pink tinting your face and that enamoured look in your eyes before letting you take the customer, moving further back to join Peter at the coffee machines, the two of them keeping their eyes on you as Drax, Rocket and Mantis returned from their break, preparing to serve the other customers entering the café.

“Hi, what can I get you?” You asked, putting on your ‘work’ voice for the older woman whilst trying your hardest to not smile at her like an idiot in love, your heart fluttering at the way her hands glide across the freshly cleaned countertop, fingers tapping indecisively as she looked at the boards with the menu on it.

“Can I get two small hot chocolates with whipped cream and extra marshmallows on them,” her tone shows how she is unable to hide her happiness as she ordered for the twins, the older woman smiling at you lovingly as she hadn’t seen you properly today due to how early your shift had started, part of her like a teenager in love as she felt almost giddy in your presence. It shocked her at how you could still cause so many feelings to bubble inside her, the way a simple look could ignite a warmth to wrap around her heart effortlessly and she adored every single minute of it, having always wanted to love someone like she loved you and be loved the way you passionately loved her.

Your smile grew even wider at her order for the twins, the emphasis on extra marshmallows not being missed by you as you knew how much they loved them on their drinks, your finger tapping on the screen to write down her order as you glance up at her, noticing the way her teeth subtly bite down on her lower lip to not grin at you. You blushed a little under her gaze as she met your eyes, her enticing green hypnotising you as you let the look linger, the sound of a coffee machine beeping snapping you back to reality as you waited for her to continue with the order.

“Can I also have…” she started, trailing off as she skim reads the rest of the menu, part of you already knowing what she was about to order as your finger hovered over the screen, ready to tap, “A flat white espresso.” You smiled to yourself as you entered in the item, oblivious to how Peter lingered nearby to see how you were doing with the customer, Gamora hiding near the coffee machine and eavesdropping too, your co-workers unaware that this was Wanda, having never actually met her before.

“Is there anything else?” You ask once you had logged everything you needed to, watching the way Wanda’s fingers tapped against the countertop, her smile tugging up in a mischievous manner as her gaze flickered up to meet yours, a hint of mirth in them at her next words.

“Is your number an option?” She teased with a charming smile, your eyes widening at her words before you went along with her joke, a small, shy laugh escaping you as you felt heat rise to your cheeks, her captivating smile and stare making you flustered.

“That depends, are you single or am I going to get in trouble?” Your tone signals your amusement as you murmur the words, letting your gaze switch between the pools of green and her plump lips, admiring her angelic features as you wait for her to respond.

“You won’t get into trouble, I won’t let you,” she rasps out, purposely letting her voice drop an octave and her accent seep into it, knowing you couldn’t resist the way her words gracefully fell from her lips when she did so, her smile widening at the way your pupils dilated noticeably, your mouth parting a little bit as she leaves you speechless for a moment until you can compose yourself.

“I’ll uh, bring your order over to you when it’s ready,” you stammer out in response, avoiding her gaze as you could tell she was humoured by how easily she could fluster you, an infectious laugh briefly escaping her as she chuckles at your adorable form, quickly paying for the drinks before putting you out of your misery and walking away.

You can’t help but watch as she walks away, the older woman seeming to know you were staring and looking over her shoulder at you, winking playfully before moving to sit next to Billy so she could continue to watch you work, smiling at the way your co workers quickly move over to you after your interaction.

“What are you doing?” Peter’s tone is slightly raised as confusion laces his voice whilst you turn around to face him, his wide eyes and tone puzzling you as your brows furrow, your hand stilling the way you were writing your number on the cup, his fingers slipping the item out of your hand. “You can’t just flirt with customers like that, what about Wanda?” It clicks in your mind when he mentions the other woman, a laugh escaping you as your gaze flickers between Gamora and Peter’s concerned gaze, neither of them wanting you to ruin what you had with your girlfriend as they had heard such amazing things.

“That is Wanda,” you say after a moment, unable to stop chuckling to yourself at their reactions, part of you grateful for their intervention as it just showed how much they cared about you. You watch entertained at the way their faces drop from worry to confusion, to disbelief and shock, Gamora’s gaze moving to where the twins and Wanda’s were sitting whilst Peter just looks at you, bewildered.

“How?” Is all that leaves his lips before Gamora’s hand smacks the back of his head, shooting him a warning look as he rubs the spot his girlfriend just hit, his cheeks turning a little red in embarrassment. It wasn’t that he didn’t think you weren’t beautiful or an amazing person because you were, everyone around you knew that you were, it was more the fact that Wanda looked like a goddess among people, something about her just making her all the more radiant. “I mean, how… come we have never met Wanda?” He sheepishly mutters out, grimacing himself at how poor his recovery of the situation was, your brow raised at him as Mantis overhears the conversation, excitement swirling in her eyes at the mention of the older woman, your friend eager to meet her.

“Wanda’s here? Where is she?” Her voice conveys her giddiness as you smile at her reaction, the two of you growing closer over the last couple weeks as your shifts were on at the same time, the black haired woman taking an interest in your love life as she could tell how smitten you were. Before you could respond, Rocket spoke up, the casual man leaning against the countertop on his phone, clearly pretending as though he was busy with work stuff, his eyes never leaving the screen.

“Who’s Wanda? Does she need her order taken over?” His voice lacked any real conviction as to find out who she was, simply acting as though he was contributing to team as he messaged Lyla on his phone, your head shaking as you made the two small hot chocolates, making sure to swirl the whipped cream perfectly and add as many marshmallows as you were allowed to.

“Why are we talking about Wanda again?” Drax asks from your side, making you jump a little as you hadn’t realised he was standing there, his body so still it was as though he was invisible.

“She’s here,” Mantis emphatically answered him, the man seeming to be just as disinterested as Rocket as he was only interested in relationships and love when it meant he could tease someone, his eyes following to where Mantis was looking before flickering his gaze back to you, a laugh escaping him.

“Yeah right,” he chuckled out, a look of shock forming on your face at his dismissal that it was Wanda, your features pulling into a look of offence as he smiled in disbelief at you, a glint of determination appearing in your eyes as you wanted to wipe that smug smile off his face.

“I’ll prove it,” you muttered out to the man, his smile widening as he refused to believe you, his arms crossing over his chest nonchalantly as he leaned against the countertop, watching you in amusement as you carried over the order to the booth they were sitting at, looking at Wanda with a shy but mischievous look before turning your head to make sure your co workers were watching, in particular Drax.

“Two hot chocolates and a flat white,” you say with a polite voice, the slight change to your tone amusing the twins as they mimic your voice to each other, making you playfully stick your tongue out at them for their teasing you as Wanda shakes her head at your antics, biting down on her lower lip as she admires you in your work uniform as you hand the twins their drinks, marshmallows overspilling from the cups. Your gaze flickers over to her appreciative stare when the twins become distracted by the sugary treat, the older woman loving the way your tied apron exaggerates your curves as she eventually lifts her gaze to your face, an enamoured look evident in her eyes as she can’t stop thinking about how adorable you look right now, the slightly shy smile on your face as her green has your heart pounding in your chest, warmth wrapping cosily around it.

Smiling a little to yourself, your tear your eyes away from hers to break the lingering gaze to focus on her drink sitting on the tray in your hands, moving to pass her the drink when her fingers brush yours on purpose, the older woman innocently smirking up at you as steals the drink from you, revelling in the way you seem to blush a little in embarrassment at the effect she has on you.

“Thank you,” she murmurs out whilst taking a sip of the drink, making sure to keep eye contact with you to further torment you, her lips tugging up into a smile around the mug as you linger nearby, trying to figure out how to prove to Drax you were with her without making it obvious to Wanda that you wanted a kiss.

“Is there any chance my service deserves a tip?” You ask with a hint of cheek seeping into your words as you offer her a charming smile, her brow raising at your words as you still play along with the joke from earlier, excitement appearing on her features.

“What did you have in mind?” She murmurs out, letting her gaze drift over to the counter where your friends were not so discreetly watching the interaction, the older woman trying her hardest to not roll her eyes as she could tell you had made some sort of bet at the way they were so interested in what was happening, that look in your eyes only Wanda could notice also giving it away as she could easily read your body language.

“Something that might get me in...trouble,” you whisper out, Wanda letting out a small chuckle before shaking her head lightly at your actions, her hand moving to your collarbone, sliding against the fabric of your shirt teasingly before grabbing the collar of your button up blouse, pulling you down to meet her lips.

The kiss was tender and loving to keep it appropriate for the setting, the two of you instantly smiling into it when you hear a contrast of reactions, the twins as usual pretending to be grossed out by the action whilst a small, elated noise could be heard from where Mantis was, her body buzzing with joy as she just loved seeing people happy, her smile practically reaching her ears at the way you shyly pulled back from the kiss.

You couldn’t stop the way love and adoration swarmed through you when Wanda softly waved towards your co-workers before sitting back in her seat, relaxing with her drink in her hand as you simply stood there, admiring the woman you loved.

“You might want to stop staring Detka,” she teases after a moment, “You’ve still got twenty minutes of your shift left,” she gently reminds, prompting you to pick up the forgotten tray from the table and return back to work after telling her you would meet her back here when you had finished your shift.

The prominent blush on your cheeks was engraved there as Peter and Gamora offer you suggestive looks as you returned to the counter, Drax’s arms dropping as he simply stood there with his mouth parted, somehow lost for words, not a single teasing remark lingering on his tongue which seemed to be a first.

“You should have put money on it,” Rocket teased as he patted Drax’s shoulder, joking with the man who still remained frozen and confused as to what had happened, your head shaking at the other man before letting your gaze inevitably drift back over to the table where she was, catching her curious stare. You watched intently as she placed her drink down and lifted her hand, the smile growing on your face fading when she motioned for you to turn around and stop staring at her, your eyes rolling theatrically at her before you did as she said, returning to cleaning the machines as the last twenty minutes of your shift dragged on.

***

Untying your hair, a deep sigh left your lips at the relief of returning home, the promise of having another family night exciting you as it was a time to unwind and simply enjoy being with the twins and Wanda, the bag of ingredients in Wanda’s hands intriguing you as she hadn’t told you what her and the twins had planned for tonight.

You made a beeline for the kitchen as that was where she had wandered to, walking past the framed photo of her on the ride at Asgard with a smug smile before your eyes searched for her auburn hair as you leaned against the doorframe, taking a moment to observe her. Her fingers rummaged through the plastic bag for various items as she stayed oblivious to your presence, her back to you as you continued to watch her, unable to stop the love coursing through your veins at the domestic sight of her expertly and swiftly moving around the kitchen, her green eventually catching your figure at the door.

The corner of your lips instinctively  lifted at the simple look before you pushed yourself off the frame to slowly walk over to her, your body tired after your long shift at the café, wanting to feel the comfort of her body against yours as you have been deprived of her touch for far too long in your opinion. You practically melted into her body as your arms snaked around her middle, your head resting against her shoulder as you placed a kiss to the fabric of her jumper, expressing your love to her silently.

The two of you adored the fact you could easily show your care and affection for each other without having to explicitly say ‘I love you’, your actions, looks, and kindness enough for one another. You purposely let your hands squeeze her body gently, encouraging her to lean back further into your embrace, knowing she cherished being hugged from behind and listened out for the satisfied sigh that would spill from her lips when you would do so.

You smiled against her sweater when you heard the familiar sound, the older woman stilling in your arms as she relaxed, a soft, tender expression gracing her features as you both savoured the moment before the twins would eventually come running downstairs, ready to start the fun family night.

“Can I have another kiss or is that going to get me in trouble with your girlfriend?” you tease, breaking the brief silence, your words slightly muffled by her shoulder as you mumbled against her, the corner of her lips tugging up at your playfulness whilst her head shook lightly before she turned around in your arms, mirth clear in her eyes.

“I don’t know, that might get you into trouble,” she rasps out whilst you move one of your hands to tuck the stray strand of her hair behind her ear, a tenderness wrapping around you both comfortably as you joke with each other.

“That’s a shame, it was such a good kiss,” you murmur out, tilting your head so that your lips ghosted hers, the feeling of her lips briefly brushing yours intoxicating, the thought of pressing them together consuming your mind and sending a heat throughout your body.

“Yeah?” she hums out, sliding her hands further around your waist, the pads of her fingers toying with the hem of your shirt and grazing your warm skin. “Maybe one more wouldn’t hurt after all,” she husks out with a smirk, lowering her head at a tantalising pace as you await the delicate feeling of her plump lips slotting over yours, your body craving the feeling again as you wait what feels like an eternity before her lips finally claim yours.

Much to your dismay though, the sound of footsteps interrupts the kiss, breaking off the affectionate moment far sooner than you wanted, a small groan leaving you as you sink into her embrace, your face hiding at the crook of her neck, basking in the warmth and safety it provided for a moment.

“You’re such a tease,” you mumble against her skin, earning a gentle chuckle as her fingers run up and down your back, the twins storming into the room after having cleaned their rooms, knowing they had to finish that chore off before the fun could begin.

“You’re the one who started it,” she whispers tauntingly before pressing a kiss to the top of your head, sliding her body away from yours to check their rooms were done properly before starting the activities planned for tonight, your dumbfounded figure left to watch her walk away, still thinking of the feeling of her lips.

***

A baking competition.

That’s what family night was for this evening, a look of shock, confusion and excitement appearing on your features as it was everyone versus everyone on who could make the best cookies, the thought of the twins trying to make their own worrying you a little bit as their version of baking cookies meant eating as many chocolate chips as possible before you would notice, too busy doing the actual work involved.

“Are we sure we don’t want to have teams?” you ask once more as you sit on the chair at the kitchen island, your head leaning against your palm as you stare at Wanda who was sorting out all the ingredients into an efficient system, her face pulling a look that suggested she wanted to agree with you, Tommy speaking up instead.

“No teams!” he exclaims, clearly excited about doing it all himself as Billy nodded along with him, the twins adamant that they could make them themselves, assuming it was much easier than it was. “Unless you want to team up with Mom because you’re scared you’re going to lose,” he teases, making your jaw drop, Wanda failing the stifle her laugh in time as your bewildered expression meets her humoured one, her smile soft as she bites down on her lip to stop herself giggling at her son’s words.

“I make good cookies,” you mutter in response, thinking about all the times you and the twins had made various types of cookies and the way they’d absolutely devour them, your mind then soon replaying the way they’d run across the house to get their mothers, the older woman’s skills in the kitchen superior to yours.

“Not as good as mine though,” Wanda whispers as she moves around to stand behind you, pressing a chaste kiss to your temple to help comfort you at the fact your abilities had been undermined, her head leaning against yours as your hand reached out for hers, letting your thumb brush over the back of her hand as the twins decided on the rules and how the winner would be decided before you could start.

Eventually, the four of you were ready to start measuring out everything needed to make the signature Maximoff family recipe of chocolate chip cookies, Billy fighting with the bag of flour you and him were going to share whilst Wanda effortlessly opened hers and Tommy’s, a look of sympathy growing on your face as he struggled. He wanted to remain independent during the entire baking process so you offered him a reassuring smile as you could understand how frustrating it was to open packets like that, something deep inside you hating bags of flour after the many times they had split open on you. The packaging was just always so impractical, white powder inevitably getting everywhere as soon as you tore it open, your gaze watching as he put a little more force into trying to tear it open, a grimace forming on your face as you could predict what was about to happen.

“Let me try-” your words were cut off by the bag tearing open vigorously, flour puffing out of the bag and all over the countertop as well as yours and Billy’s hands, a cloud of it filling the air around you two as Wanda sighed, her smile still present on her face though.

After a sheepish look in the older woman’s direction, you turned your gaze back to the pile of flour now on the marble top, your hand coming up to your forehead as you try to figure out the best way to deal with the situation, not realising the amount of flour coating your hand.

A humoured expression grew on everyone else's face as you managed to have a streak of flour across your head, the twins trying their hardest to not laugh and give it away, wanting you to continue looking silly, whilst Wanda seemed to pause, a nostalgic look in her eyes.

Her mind recalled the memory of when she came home from work to see you baking with the twins whilst you were babysitting them, the way warmth spread throughout her at the adorable sight of you with a similar streak of flour on your face. She remembered fondly the way you seemed to grow flustered as she gently wiped the mark away, her heart fluttering in her chest as she realised how far the two of you have come, how you have managed to change her life for the better.

“What?” you chuckle out as you notice her staring at you with love overflowing from her enchanting green, Billy helping get the remainder of the flour into a bowl to weigh it out.

“I love you,” she whispers, your brows furrowing a little bit at the emotion underlying the words, the concern quickly dissipating as she comes closer to you, her fingers gently holding your chin like she did that day, tilting your head up as she grabbed a cloth to wipe the flour away, a hint of deja vu flowing through you both. “But sometimes I think you’re just as messy as the twins,” she mutters playfully, a mischievous glint appearing in your eyes at her words as she loses herself in admiring you, unaware of how your hand was moving near the table.

“I’m not messy” you whisper innocently whilst moving your hand up to cup her cheek, her face morphing into shock at the feeling of flour being smeared against her skin, an infectious laugh escaping you and the twins as they watch the scenes unfold, revenge swirling in the older woman’s eyes.

Before you know it, the kitchen turns into a mini warzone, flour flying everywhere as you all try to cover each other in it, the food fight amusing to everyone as laughter bounced off all the walls, a small scream leaving Tommy as you wrap your arm around his body, sprinkling flour all over him and wiping a streak on his cheek to mimic the face paintings warriors have. To torment the boy even more, you tickled his side, watching as he tries to squirm his way out of your grip, his giggles echoing around the room as Billy dodges his mother’s flour attacks, the woman giving up chasing after one of her sons as he was too quick, deciding to save her other one instead.

A squeal practically leaves you when Wanda steals you away, pulling you into her body so that her front is flush against your back, your body trying to fight her strong grip but failing, laughter constantly spilling from your lips as you feel the remainder of the flour being wiped across your face. Her fingers friskily remained on your face, tormenting you further as you could hear her chuckling behind you, your hand trying to stop her from drawing random shapes of flour on your forehead as you gripped her forearm, amused at the way her sleeve had a massive streak of white across it.

The core memory engraved itself into all of your minds, the sheer joy and happiness radiating through you all as Wanda eventually let her head rest at the crook of your neck, inhaling the scent of your sweet perfume as your giggles eventually died down, your ragged breaths filling the room. The four of you panted after the intense battle, Wanda’s arm unwrapping from around your middle, freeing you of her grasp so you could turn around to send her a mini glare, the expression never coming onto your face as you were too busy grinning at her, an avalanche of affection and warmth enveloping you at the sight of her. Flour sat on the edge of her nose almost comically, a couple light dusts also tainting the pink visible on her cheeks whilst your eyes travelled up to look at her hair, chuckling in amusement at the massive white streak in her auburn locks.

A teasing comment about her age was on the tip of your tongue, the older woman seeming to sense where your thoughts were heading as she tilted her head almost warningly, daring you to make the joke as you smirked up at her, your composure crumbling a little at the hint of dominance swirling in her eyes. Deciding it would be better to not be a brat, you stayed silent instead, a triumphant look flashing on her features before she let her gaze flicker away from you to around the room, taking in the mess you had all managed to create, her eyes widening a little bit at how far the four of you had gone.

“I’m not even sure we’ll have enough flour to make cookies anymore,” she said sceptically as she checked the remains of a bags of flour, noticing how there was only just about two cups left in one of them and maybe just under one cup in the other bag , the twin’s faces almost turning as white as the flour at the idea of not having any cookies, the two of them running to check the bag their mother was looking at before checking the bowls that previously had measured out flour in them.

You watched curiously as they tried to pile together as much of the leftover flour as possible in hopes there'd be enough, your head shaking softly as you decided to wipe your face, cleaning yourself up whilst the boys remained running about with the ingredient in their hair, seeming to make the mess worse as they kept moving about. Wanda copied you and started trying to clean herself up, observing the twins as you were before speaking up, deciding she didn’t want to clean any more mess than she had to, part of her wishing she had the powers Billy had given her in his drawings so she could just magic all the mess away.

“How about this,” she starts off, gaining everyone’s attention. “You two can go and have a shower now, making sure to get rid of all the flour in your hair,” she said, making a point as she ruffled Tommy’s hair, showing how white his locks had turned, “And when you come down there might be some cookies nearly ready to eat." Bright smiles stretched across their lips as they nodded emphatically to agree with their mother’s plan, the two of them wiping as much of the mess in their hair off in the kitchen before being allowed to sprint up stairs to shower, your brow raising as her gaze then met yours, an innocent smile growing on her lips which could only mean one thing- she was about to torture you.

“And what am I supposed to do?” you ask in a hum, leaning against the countertop in front of her after she had just measured the flour out, a small amount still left in the bag behind your body that you were oblivious to. At the suggestive tone to your voice, her hands move to rest on the marble behind you, bracing her body above yours as she trapped you against the island, her head lowering a little bit, encouraging you to chase her teasing and alluring lips. 

Just as you think she’s about to kiss you on the lips, your eyes fluttering shut, she moves slightly behind you, the action going unnoticed as her lips pressed against the corner of your mouth, driving you insane with the thought of her as warmth wraps around your heart and also travels down your body towards you core, the feeling of her smirking against your lips clouding your mind. 

“You can help clean,” she murmurs in a seductive voice, a groan leaving you at her addictive tone and her words, the false hope annoying but equally amusing as she pulls back to see your eyes gradually opening, your darkened pupils showing how excited her actions had made you.

“Have I ever told you how cruel you are?” you grumble whilst stealing a quick kiss from her, the older woman letting you after her tease, her fingers wrapping around something behind you, her right arm moving slightly to your side as you focus on pouting at her, trying to get her to feel sorry for you and kiss you again and again until you couldn’t remember why you were pretending to be so annoyed. You thought it was working at the way her head lowered once more, your tongue subconsciously swiping across your lips to wet them, ready to lose yourself to the arousal steadily corrupting your thoughts. 

“Just a few times,” she chuckles out, smirking at you in a mischievous way as you search her green, confused as to why her smile seemed to grow that little bit wider, your brows furrowing until your felt flour being poured over your head, your vision being covered by the powder spilling down your face. You simply stood still as the bag emptied above your head, unable to stop a shocked but also impressed smile tugging at your lips, your laughter light and contagious as Wanda couldn't help but laugh along with you as you fell for her plan. Shaking your head vigorously, your hands shot out to hold onto her waist to keep her close, keeping her in the firing line as the two of you acted like fools in love for the rest of the night.

The two of you were only just about able to make the cookies and clean the mountain of mess in time for the twins, care and adoration underlying all you actions as the rest of the night breezed by, the happiness of spending the night together as a family consuming you entirely.

[spooky-holtz]

Sicilian Scheming

Melissa Schemmenti x reader

Genre: pure fluff

Word Count: 3.4k

Prompt: "I seen you were looking for ideas for fics and was wondering if you’d write one where Mellisa’s Nona comes to visit her at Abbot during summer planning where she meets teacher Reader and essentially forces them to go on a date together even though they don’t get along well but they end up really hitting it off then a time skip to their wedding where Nona’s bragging about getting them together?"

I've diverted from the prompt a little but the core of it still stands. Strap in.

--------------------

Make no mistake, you absolutely love teaching the third grade but by the time summer comes around, you’re glad to see them go. Summer vacation gives you a chance to relax and enjoy your time away from the stuffy brick building that is Abbott Elementary, spending weeks at a time curled up on the window ledge of your apartment basking in the sun with a good novel and often a crisp glass of wine.  

You rarely get chance to see your co-workers save for the coffee dates you have with Janine, often meeting the smaller woman around the corner from her home to sit and chat in the large glass windows as the rest of the world passes by. You spend hours at a time chatting about anything and everything your rather uneventful lives have thrown at you, fingers curled around a sweating glass of flavored iced tea. These breaks are always among the highlights of your year, giving you a chance to wind down and refresh ready for the next group of kids that you will take under your wing.  

By the time the summer break winds down though, you’re eager to get back to school and see your dysfunctional work family. There’s nothing you love more than the first day after weeks apart, hearing all about Barbra’s annual cruise with Gerald, or Jacob’s latest mission to get himself “down with the kids” - it usually involves some god awful Tik Tok trend that he should NOT be doing, but you don’t have the heart to stop his rather spirited approach to engaging with his students.  

You love these conversations but there is somebody else that you find yourself searching for the second you step foot through the green doors of Abbott; Mellisa Schemmenti. The older woman has become an infatuation for you, her rigid exterior always melting when you interact. She knows exactly how you take your coffee, always leaves a seat open for you during meetings, and takes every opportunity to compliment your appearance - whether it's a new pair of earrings, or a slightly different shade of hair dye, Melissa will always notice.  

She makes you feel special in the smallest ways, always leaving you with the hope that she might actually like you back. It feels juvenile and you can’t help but imagine yourself as one of the kids you teach every day, sending heart eyes across the room at each other at any given chance, just waiting for her cheeks to flush and that small, suppressed smile to appear on her glossed lips.  

Your crush is no secret, but you would never tell anyone - well, except Janine who had managed to guess exactly why you get so nervous around the older woman after a few glasses of wine at the last faculty holiday party. You didn’t have to say anything; your longing looks toward the redhead on the other side of the teachers’ lounge as you nursed a plastic cup full of cheap alcohol was enough to prompt your friend to ask. You could never lie to Janine’s puppy dog eyes, especially not with a buzz courtesy of the liquor store across the street.  

You can’t help but let your thoughts drift toward thick Philly accents as you sit in the gym on the first day of school, squashed between Jacob and Janine and caught directly in the middle of their conversation about whatever new Netflix documentary series dropped last week. You’re really trying to listen, but your thoughts are consumed by bright red curls and glittery lip gloss, not true crime documentaries.  

You find yourself scanning the room as the pair babble on and you notice that the seating arrangement is half empty as you wait for the rest of the faculty to arrive and for Ava to take the stage for yet another development week speech that will go down in infamy at Abbott. She’s already poked her head from behind the curtain on the stage twice, clearly impatient to make her grand entrance to a group of less than willing participants.  

You begin to hear the telltale sound of heeled boots clicking against the linoleum floor and you feel yourself freezing into place just as Melissa waltzes into the hall, Barbara in tow. You don’t know if you’re impressed or terrified at her ability to constantly wear those shoes and the thought makes you realize that you’ve never actually seen Melissa at her normal height. 

Just as you suck in a deep breath, her eyes scan the room and instantly land where you sit, sandwiched between two of your rather enthusiastic co-workers. As her green eyes meet yours you see them shrink at the smile she sends your way, her pearly white teeth cutting through the shiny pink lip gloss she’s always wearing. You send a similar smile back, overjoyed at the fact she merely noticed you. God help your heart rate when she decides to talk to you for the first time in two months.  

Your attention is pulled away by Barbara, who waves enthusiastically from behind Melissa, making her way toward the empty seats directly in front of you. Your eyes dart back to Melissa as she follows the billowing of the older woman’s cardigan, heels still impossibly loud against the floor. 

The dark button down she’s sporting is tight against her torso, the sleeves rolled up to reveal her deceptively toned forearms. You have to remind yourself to look away for a split second, the thought of getting caught ogling her by one of your co-workers forcing you to tear your eyes away. You look toward Janine who has trailed off her conversation with Jacob, the pair watching you and Melissa like a tennis match. You feel your shoulders slump at Jacob’s knowing look, the excitement practically making him vibrate.  

“You’re kidding, you know too?” You sigh. 

“Uh yeah, you don’t exactly hide the heart eyes,” he scoffs. He must see the deer-in-headlights expression on your face because he continues, “I wouldn’t worry, she was definitely just throwing them right back at you.” 

You have no time to reply as the subject of the conversation reaches the row of seats in front of you, sitting in the hard plastic chair and turning her torso to see you, hand resting on the back of her seat. Her smile is wide again as she looks to you. The panic brews in your throat and your palms instantly become sweaty at the prospect of Melissa feeling the intensity of your feelings.  

“Hey hun, it’s been a while,” she says, her eyes still crinkled from the smile she wears. Her focus is entirely on you, ignoring the duo that sits on either of your sides.  

“Yeah, it has,” you manage to stammer out, “How’ve you been? You look good.”  

You inwardly cringe at your words but you’re not lying. She’s obviously had her hair dyed ready for the new school year and it’s even brighter than usual, making her even easier for you to pick out of a crowd. She looks so full of life and at ease, the break clearly having done her well. Her smile grows impossibly wider at your compliment, putting you instantly at ease.  

“It was great,” she replies. “Spent a lotta time at the beach with my family, so I’m not as pasty as you may have remembered.” 

She throws a wink your way with the last statement, causing a pink blush to cover your cheeks within seconds. What you wouldn’t give to actually see Melissa at the beach, totally relaxed on a sun lounger with a drink in hand. The image turns your cheeks an even deeper shade of red and Mel clearly catches on, her smirk letting you know that she knows exactly where your thoughts have gone.  

Before you even have chance to reply, Ava makes her grand entrance from behind the curtain to a chorus of groans that echos throughout the room.  

You can feel Janine’s elbow nudging into your side, your friend having had a front row seat to your entire interaction with the redhead. The action earns her a swift kick to the ankle under her seat, accompanied by a hissed “don’t you dare”.  

The meeting is over almost as quickly as it begins, Ava rushing back to her office to catch the latest episode of Real Housewives - she didn’t explicitly say it but you all know that’s the only reason she would be running back down the hall. You won’t complain though because it means you can get started with your work to prepare your classroom for the year ahead. You stand from your seat alongside Jacob and Janine and have all intentions of getting back to work when Melissa turns around again. Her emerald eyes stop you in your tracks, mid-stretch, your arms flexed above your head.  

“I never got the chance to tell you earlier, but I really like your dress,” she says, completely catching you off guard. Your hands fall, hanging limply by your side and brushing against the floral fabric of your clothing. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t wear it specifically to catch her eye this morning. The soft smile she wears on her face makes your heart melt, the look on her face only reserved for you. “It's real pretty.” 

You both stand there for a few seconds, blushing like lovesick teenagers and staring into each other's eyes when a throat clearing brings you back to reality. Janine claps her hands together, flustered by the interaction.  

“Okay, I’m gonna get back to my classroom and, uh, get started on cleaning. Have a good day guys!” She calls as she walks away with Jacob in tow, enthusiastic as ever as he throws a thumbs up your way. You know that within five minutes of leaving the school gym she’ll be in your classroom waiting for the rundown on what the hell just happened between you and Melissa, as if she didn’t see it all happen from inches away. At this rate, you wouldn’t be surprised if Jacob shows up with a bag of popcorn to join in with the gossip session.  

“Oh shit, yeah, I need to clean before Nonna shows up,” Melissa mumbles, “I don’t wanna even think about the earful I’ll get if my classroom is a mess.” She doesn’t even stop to think before she turns on her heel and practically runs out of the gym and down the hall toward her classroom. You don’t have time to process her words before her best friend speaks.  

“Well, I guess that just leaves us,” Barbara says from her place next to where the redhead stood. She wears a gentle smile on her face that will always help you feel at ease. She reaches her arm out to you, linking your arm within hers as she turns to walk. “Come on honey, I’ll walk you to your room and tell you all about the cruise I had with my Gerald.”  

After a rather lengthy conversation about ‘Sea Barbara’ and her less-than-christian antics, you’re back at your door for the first time in months and can’t help but feel like you’re home. Nobody particularly likes their job but that couldn’t be further from the truth for you. Already, you’ve planned out the next year and can’t wait to welcome your little Eagles back into the classroom.  

It’s a full hour later by the time you actually hear another person’s voice - Janine chose to keep her distance but will no doubt grill you about Melissa at some point today. It’s just a matter of when.  

You hear the signature clicking of her heels before you can see her, her footsteps considerably slower than usual. You can hear her talking as she walks, though you can’t make you exactly what she’s saying. The footsteps grow louder and slower before you hear a knock against your doorframe, the door propped open by a thick stack of textbooks that you’ve wedged in front of it in a desperate attempt to get some airflow in the stuffy room.  

The sound makes you whip your head from where you stand on your stepladder, stapler and crepe paper in hand as you put together a display for the kids. You know exactly who will be standing there, already smiling as you turn and meet her eyes.  

“Hey Hun,” she says, “I’ve got someone here who wanted to really meet you.”  

For the first time you notice the presence beside her. You don’t need to take any guesses that this is Melissa’s infamous Nonna, the older woman clearly having stamped her grandchildren with her genes - she looks exactly how you imagine Melissa would in her old age, her hair silver and leaning gently on a cane.  

“Melissa Ann Caterina Schemmenti!” she exclaims, making you jump and stand up straighter, terrified at the prospect of already being on her bad side. You climb down from the ladder as she stares at you, smoothing your hands down the front of your dress in an effort to get rid of any creases that may have formed during the morning. “You said she was pretty, but not this pretty!”  

You feel your shoulders relax as you laugh at the older woman, taken aback, Melissa by the side of her groaning loudly with a “Nonna, really?” You move toward the pair holding your hand out to shake the wrinkled one of the grey-haired lady before you. Her fingers are adorned by the same kind of jewelry that Melissa wears, her Sicilian heritage extremely clear from the large signet rings that she wears across her hands.  

“And there’s no mistaking that you must be Nonna,” you grin, introducing yourself. “I’ve heard a lot about you. You’re like a living legend around here.” She closes her hand around yours, the other still gripping her cane.  

“Pretty and complimentary?” She remarks, turning to look at her granddaughter whose face has managed to turn the same colour as her hair. “Well, you kept a lot quiet about this one.” 

You can’t help but look at Melissa at this statement, catching her eye and smiling even wider, Nonna’s remarks already making your grin impossibly wide. Her brow relaxes itself slightly, the hard lines around her eyes softening when she sees the pure joy on your face at finally getting to meet the woman you’ve heard so much about over the last few years.  

“I’m not sure if I want to hear exactly what you know about me,” you joke to her, catching Melissa’s eye yet again. The poor woman looks unbelievably flustered but it's a welcome change in your dynamic. She usually gets to revel in the fact that you turn into a puddle in her presence, but now you can only hope to add to the quickly darkening hue of her cheeks.  

“Trust me, you do. This one doesn’t shut up about you,” she says, smiling slightly and cocking her head toward Melissa who is actively wishing that a sinkhole would open up beneath her feet. She lets go of your hand and moves further into the classroom, leaning ever so slightly on her stick but still moving with all the confidence of your favourite Schemmenti woman - at least you know where Melissa gets it from now.  

Your eyes dart to Melissa, the older woman already looking back at you with a silent apology in her eyes her teeth worrying her bottom lip. You reach out and rub the top of her arm over her shirt in a small act of comfort, letting her know that this entire situation is doing nothing but working in her favour.  

“Ya know, it’s nice seeing something other than my Melissa’s classroom or the reception desk at this school for once,” Nonna says, almost speaking to herself. She looks around the room almost in awe, taking in the displays in various degrees of completion around the room.  

You follow her further in, Melissa hot on your tail behind you. She’s so close that you feel her almost walk straight into your back as you stop closer to the older woman, her once intimidating heels stuttering slightly on the wooden floor.  

“So, tell me,” Nonna begins, turning in place to face you, “What brought a girl like you to Philly? I know you’re not a local.” Her eyes twinkle as she asks, and you have a sneaking suspicion that she already knows the answer to her question from the tales her granddaughter has seemingly told her about you.  

“I just wanted a change,” you answer honestly. “I only thought I’d be here a couple years, but it’s been five and I can’t see myself leaving any time soon.” 

At your statement you hear Melissa sigh by your side. As your head turns to meet her gaze you see just how much it softened at your words. She knows just how much you love your job and the dedication you’re willing to put into making sure these kids make it. Year after year she’s been the one to help you draft lesson plans and mark countless piles of work over a mug of coffee in the teachers’ lounge, helping you when you feel slightly out of your depth in more ways than she could imagine. 

It’s only when she’s this close to your face that you can see the glittering of her lip gloss as she smiles slightly, her lips pulled together in a look that conveys so much softness.  

“Do you like Italian food?” Nonna asks, breaking the tense silence that has fallen between you. You feel the redhead beside you jump, both of you completely forgetting that her grandmother is just meters away from your little moment. You can’t answer quick enough, crying out for her approval and hoping that you can focus back from the incredible green eyes that are currently burning into the side of your head.  

“Oh yeah, I absolutely love an Italian,” you stutter out, “Can’t get enough.” 

You inwardly cringe at your words as you hear Melissa snicker by your side, Nonna’s eyes twinkling with amusement again. You hear a quiet “Bedda Matri” from Melissa through the giggles that shake her body.  

“I bet ya do,” Nonna says, her grin revealing her impossibly pearly white teeth. You can feel yourself getting warmer and you’re not sure if it’s from the stuffiness of your classroom and its broken windows or from the pure embarrassment radiating through your system. “You know, I taught Melissa everything she knows about Italian food. Maybe if you’re nice she’ll cook for you sometime.” 

Nonna’s eyebrows are raised as you turn to meet Melissa’s eyes, the older woman shrugging in your direction. It's nice to know you aren’t the only person completely lost in this conversation.  

“Oh, I know!” Nonna exclaims, making the pair of you jump yet again, “Melissa, how about you cook this nice girl the family baked ziti tonight? Say, 7 o’clock?”  

“Uh sure, if you don’t have anything on?” Melissa says, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion once again.  

“No no, I’m totally free,” you stammer, your cheeks matching the deep red of your co-worker's hair. “I’ve got your address too.” 

“Wonderful!” Nonna almost shouts, her shrill voice echoing off the semi-bare walls of your classroom. “You’re going to love it, trust me.” She says, throwing a wink your way.  

You don’t particularly want to admit that the smaller woman is, but you do love it. So much so that two years later you’re twirling around a dance floor in a lacy white dress, Melissa in a matching getup and shiny new diamond rings on your left hands. As Billy Joel croons the chorus of ‘Just the Way You Are’ from the speakers set up around the room, you hear a familiar voice chirp up from a table just out of reach of the dance floor.  

“You know, they would never have gotten together if I hadn’t practically knocked their heads together,” Nonna says, her voice carrying over the song as she explains her matchmaking services to Melissa’s Uncle Tony. You feel Melissa grin where her cheek rests against yours, your expression matching hers as you hear the older woman carry on. “I’m telling you now Anthony, this wedding wouldn’t even be happening if it wasn’t for me.”  

You feel Melissa begin to giggle where she stands, her hands resting against the lace at the small of your back, thumbs rubbing gently against the surface as you sway together. You hear Nonna carry on, adamant that the life you’ve built wouldn’t be possible if not for her, and as much as you don’t want to give her satisfaction, you both know she’s right.  

[schemmentigfs]

Future Milf, part one.

paring: melissa schemmenti x fem reader.

summary: what was supposed to be a normal monday morning at Abbott, ends up being a chaotic one after you lend Melissa one especific t-shirt.

warnings: sexual themes? The rest is just pure crack.

author notes: I got this idea after listening to M.I.L.F $ by Fergie? Anyways, it's finally here, I'm must say that I'm pretty proud of this one. Stay tuned for part two! And yes, I watched heartstrooper and thought the drum scene was cute, so I added here.

English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes.

When you arrived at Abbott in that morning, one curious feeling of both happiness and anxiety coursed through your body. And even though you found it completely strange, you decided to ignore it.

“Good morning, Y/n!” Janine said waving to you in the hallway. “How was your weekend?”

You smiled noticing her presence, as much as everyone else always said that Janine's way of acting was a bit annoying. The other teachers had to addmit that she was a good person who was always willing to help when needed.

“Morning!” you replied, unlocking the door to your classroom, ready to start another day at school. “It was good! On Saturday, I went to my parents to visit them for a family dinner. And on Sunday I spent the afternoon at Melissa's place.” You let out a passionate sigh remembering the day in the company of your favorite redhead.

It was a lovely afternoon, you cooked together, talked about different things and at the end, you watched a movie together, with Mel's hands gently stroking your hair while you were lying on her lap. “Hon, you are so cute,” she whispered softly, leaving her famous bravado aside, and showing her sweet and loving side instead.

To be honest, you loved these moments with the older woman, it made you feel protected, relaxed and loved. Something you hadn't felt in a long time. Melissa Schemmenti was your safe place. That same tough second grade teacher who took almost three months to have a friendly conversation with you was now one of your best friends. Yeah, fate was something that was really fucking powerful.

After listening to your last words, Janine let a huge smile escape her lips, before she started to celebrate. “I knew it! I knew it!” The youngest said, jumping up and down excitedly.

“Knew what?” you questioned with a confused expression.

“It was a date, wasn't it?” she asked with hope in her eyes.

“No!”

“Wait what? I thought you and Melissa were dating. Guess I was wrong. Again.” The second grade teacher revealed, completely disappointed looking at you.

After seeing your friend's reaction, you widen your eyes in shock. Was she really serious?

“Janine, why did you think we were dating?”

“It’s kind of obvious, she calls you by cute Italian nicknames, brings you coffee every morning. Share her lunch with you, let you hug her, and she always laughs at your jokes! You two are practically married in the eyes of everyone who works here at Abbott!” She talked non-stop.

Janine could only be out of her mind, a relationship between you and Melissa was impossible to happen. You were co-workers for god's sake, and also the redhead was known for being completely closed off when it came to relationships. Since her divorce with Joe was a traumatic experience.

Deep down, you were completely in love with Melissa. But tried to suppresses your feelings, knowing it would never be reciprocated. After all, what would a beautiful woman like her want with someone like you?

It was painful, but you couldn't do anything about it.

Turning your head to the sides to make sure there was no one else in the hallway, you started talking. “What I have with Melissa is just a normal friendship between two women. Something platonic and not romantic! Okay?”

“But—” she insisted.

“Let's just forget about this.” You sighed and Janine finally gave up, nodding and giving you a sad smile saying goodbye and returning to her classroom.

“You can’t keep lying to yourself.” Mr Johnson’s voice caught your attention.

“Huh?”

“You like Melissa, and you know that,” the janitor says as he sweeps the floor, eliminating any sign of dirt. “You may not have noticed yet, but she likes you too. Act while you have the chance, otherwise you will regret it if she finds someone else.” He said, before leaving.

Now alone in the hallway, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, thinking about his words and Janine's. Were they right? No. They were insane.

“Why did everyone suddenly decide to give their opinion on my love life?” You grumbled, looking at the watch on your wrist. There were twenty minutes until the kids arrived, so you decided to stop by the staff room for some coffee and also to refresh your mind.

—

When you entered the teachers' lounge, you saw a curious scene. Jacob was completely nervous while Melissa was furious. Gregory and Barbara were there watching everything and trying to calm her down but without success.

“JACOB!” the redhead shouted angrily pointing to her pink sweater and looking at the young boy with a deadly glare. “LOOK WHAT YOU DID!”

“I'm sorry! It wasn't my intention, I ended up getting distracted and—” the history teacher stuttered nervously.

“JUST—” She almost started to argue again but stopped when she felt Barb's gaze and yours on her. “be more careful next time, we don’t want any accidents like this happening again,”

Jacob nodded, apologizing once more, returning to sit on the small sofa, next to Gregory. Focusing on the news that played on Channel 6.

“Dear, are you okay?” Barb asked worriedly, putting a hand on her best friend's shoulder.

“Yeah, the only problem is that I don’t have any spare clothes to wear.” Melissa responds.

Seeing the older woman's frustration, you decided to quickly help her, knowing that she was starting to get uncomfortable with her favorite sweater's situation.

“Don't worry, I can lend you one. I always keep one in case something like this happens.” You replied with a small smile.

Melissa sighed in relief, it was as if a miracle had fallen from the earth when she needed it most.

“Thanks, Stellina. You are an angel.”

You blush at the nickname she gives you. Maybe Janine wasn't so wrong. Just maybe.

“Let’s go.” you pulled her by the arm heading to your classroom.

—

You guided Melissa to sit in one of the chairs and closed the door, heading towards your drawer looking for the shirt. It took a long time to find it, as everything was slightly messed up. The redhead rolled her eyes, pretending to be impatient.

“Apparently it looks like youse need to learn how organize your things better.” The older woman mocks you.

“Shut up, Schemmenti. I’m trying to help ya,” after a lot of effort, you finally found it, “here, it’s a little wrinkled but I think it should be fine for you to use for the rest of the day,”

Melissa let out a soft smile, taking the shirt you handed her. “Thanks again for helping me. I appreciate this.”

“No problem, I’ll always give you a hand whenever you need it,” you replied with a shrug.

In the three years that you had known each other, She had done so many things for you. So it was only fair that you pay her back, right?

“Uh, I’ll turn around now so you can have more privacy to change,” you said and she nodded, giving you a thumbs up.

You turned around, facing the classroom door, letting out a muffled laugh when she mumbled, “Thank God I won't have soup on my body anymore.”

Everything was going normally, until you heard something else that made your heartbeat increase with each passing second.

“Future Milf, hm?” Melissa said inspecting the shirt, reading the print with a confused expression. “It’s probably a term that those of you who are young use. I liked it.”

Hearing that made you freeze, it was as if the whole world had stopped at that moment. It couldn't be. No. It could only be a completely ridiculous nightmare or dream of yours. She was a natural joker, always picking on you with some prank or something else. She was joking, right?

Fuck, had you really given her that shirt by accident? Oh shit, you were so screwed. The only good thing about this situation was that she didn't know what the word milf meant.

If she knew, you'd probably be dead by now.

Melissa snapped her fingers, a sign that you could turn around again. The action brought you back to reality, but you were too embarrassed to look at your friend in the eyes again.

“What do you think?” she asked, adjusting the t-shirt on her body, waiting for your answer anxiously. Melissa wouldn't never admit it, but your opinion was something very important to her.

You kept quiet, nervous about what had just happened. It felt like a nightmare, for some reason. After school, you would probably go to the supermarket to buy a giant bottle of wine to drink while watching some horrible Netflix TV show trying to forget all of this.

When you focused your gaze on her figure, your mouth opened into a big 'o'. She looked stunning, with her signature black leather pants, boots and well.. that t-shirt had made Melissa look so hot, that you couldn't look at anything else in the room. It definitely suited her.

“Y/n? What do you think?” She repeats.

“You look amazing, Lissa,” you say playing with the rings in your fingers. A common habit that occurred when anxiety took over.

Melissa, who was always perceptive, studied you carefully. “Hon, are you alright?” she asked with a bit of concern in her tone.

“Yeah, I'm fine, just was thinking about...” you stop trying to think of an excuse to explain why you were distracted, “a funny thing Janine told me earlier, that's it.”

“What would it be?” She asks.

“I—It's a very stupid thing, I mean you know how she is,” you let out a nervous laugh, “I think you better ask her at lunch, Mel.”

The redhead raises her eyebrows, a little suspicious. Just as Melissa was about to speak, the voices of the children in the hallway interrupted her, making you two realize how much time had passed.

“Oh! Our students.”

“Yeah, they arrived,” Melissa says, “Well, I think I have to go now, your little devils will be here at any moment. See ya at lunch?”

“Of course, and Mel?”

“What, hon?”

“You look beautiful.” It accidentally slips out of your mouth, leaving you pale and afraid of her reaction. Of course, you had already said that Melissa was beautiful several times, but this time something different was in the air.

You didn't notice the way her cheeks flushed.

“Thanks gorgeous,” the eldest grins and wink at you. Was she flirting?

When Melissa was no longer there, you covered your face with your hands to stifle a scream that threatened to escape your throat. What was supposed to be a calm Monday, turned into a chaotic one due to a slight mistake of yours.

—

Ava was passing in the hallway when she saw Melissa walking calmly to her classroom. The principal's eyes widened when she saw the redhead wearing a t-shirt with the words “Future Milf” printed on it.

“Why the hell is she wearing that? That's not something Schemmenti would wear. Especially at school grounds.” she whispered to herself.

By coincidence, Gregory was also in the hallway and was surprised by her pulling him by his coat.

“Huh?” the man said, confused. “Ava? What are you doing?”

“Relax handsome, I just need you to answer something,” she said, looking at him,“do you know why Melissa is wearing that thing? the woman pointed to the teacher.

“Y/n lent it to her after Jacob accidentally spilled food on her sweater earlier,” he explained. “Why?”

“Did you saw the damn print on it?” Ava asked, rolling her eyes and Gregory shook his head with a puzzled expression.

“Then wait and see at lunchtime. I'm telling ya, this is going to be more fun than any episode of The Kardashians!” she laughed looking towards one of the cameras.

—

Meanwhile, you tried to focus on teaching your students. But it was practically impossible. Every time you closed your eyes or tried to explain something. Your mind thought of Melissa wearing the damn shirt.

“Ms. Y/n? Are you feeling alright?” Leah, one of your students asked, snapping you out of your trance.

“Yes, sweetheart. Don't need to worry about me.” you replied with a calm voice. She smiled and returned to pay attention to her activity.

The hours passed quickly after that, much to your dismay. It was good on the one hand: in a while you would be home soon. But the bad thing was that you would have to lunch next to Melissa Ann Schemmenti wearing that fucking milf shirt of yours.

You thought of some solutions to avoid her presence, but gave up. Knowing it wasn't fair to do so. Defeated, you went to the staff room.

—

Barbara was looking for the redhead you wanted to avoid at that moment. The eldest knocked on Melissa's classroom door, waiting to be welcomed by the teacher herself or her aide, Ashely. But that didn't happen.

Determined, she decided to enter anyway, raising her brows when she saw a curious scene.

Her best friend was pacing the room while mumbling something. “Y/n, do you want to go on a date with me? We could go to a restaurant and—” Melissa said to herself, “No, too formal that doesn’t suit me. And I would prefer a date at home, where we could...”

The brunette now leaning against the wall let out a soft chuckle that scared the redhead.

“Jesus Christ!” Melissa gasped with her hand on her chest. The kindergarten teacher rolled her eyes, “Barb, you scared me to death.”

“Haven’t you asked her out yet?” her friend got straight to the point, “Oh Lord, you've already been faster than that. Tell me sweetheart, what's stopping you?”

The green-eyed woman looked away, feeling a little embarrassed, “I'm just scared. Y/n is only in her twenties, she has her whole life ahead of her and I'm already at a certain age. What will she want with me?”

Barb saw how her voice immediately sounded small and trembling, falling in love was a delicate thing in Melissa Schemmenti's life, her marriage was a totally traumatic experience. And after that, she completely closed herself off, thinking that being in a relationship wasn't something for her. That she simply didn't deserve to be loved.

But that started to change when you arrived in her life. It took Melissa a while to figure out the many confusing feelings she had for you. After several sleepless nights, questioning the butterflies in her stomach that always appeared when you were around, she understood that it was love.

But this realization scared her.

“I know it may seem scary but you have to try. Besides, don't you realize? That girl is crazy about you, just like you are about her,” Barb says trying to calm her, “Believe me, this time you will discover that love doesn't hurt.”

Her words made the redhead remember the moment she realized she was in love with you.

[...]

It was New Year's Eve and Melissa was speeding the night at your house. That same afternoon, she had attended lunch with her family and as much as she loved how festive the other Schemmentis were, but it seemed like something was missing from that environment, and that was you. And this feeling of longing made her run to your place immediately.

Now she was in your bedroom trying to practice on your drum kit, while you were laying down on an improvised pillow fort that both of you built together a couple of days ago. Honestly, playing the drums wasn't something Melissa knew how to do, so she played in a completely clumsy way without being able to find a certain rhythm.

“Schemmenti, you're so fucking terrible at this,” you joked. “It's so easy to learn.”

Pretending to be irritated by your words, the redhead reached for a pillow and threw it in your direction. Prepared to start a pillow fight if challenged.

“Hey!” you grumbled, raising your hands in the air in redemption. “Mel, I’m kidding!”

“Then show me instead of standing there, idiot.”

You slowly approached, sitting next to her on the small bench. “Alright, let me teach you a little.”

You held Melissa's hands in yours, first teaching her how to properly hold the drumsticks. “Hold them tight. And don’t let them slip out of your hands,” you whispered. “Good job, Mel,” you praised her, feeling her hold the drumsticks tighter. She blushed hearing that.

While you were extremely focused, showing her how to play the instrument. Her green eyes watched you with love and adoration, at that moment, she realized how lucky she was to have you by her side.

Her gaze fell to your lips and Melissa wondered if they were as soft as they appeared to be. She also wondered what it would be like to wake up every day next to you, with her arms wrapped around your small waist and with her placing small kisses into your hair. Or what it would be like to kiss and touch your whole body listening to your soft coos while she showed how much she loved you.

She bites her lips with all of those images in her mind.

After hearing the sounds of fireworks, you turn away from the older woman and open your bedroom window and climb up to a small outcropping of the roof. While Melissa watches you curiously, still sitting in front of the drums. "What are you doing? I wouldn’t want you to have an accident in the middle of the New Year.”

“I’m not going to have an accident,” you rolled your eyes, “I just want to see the fireworks!”

Melissa shook her head, finding your excitement adorable, deciding to join you. Carefully sitting by your side, she rested her head on your shoulder and closed her eyes, wanting to enjoy this moment with you forever.

“You know...I kind of missed you at my family's lunch today,” the redhead admitted in a shy tone, feeling her cheeks burn.

That was a surprise for both of you, since you knew that she wasn't very used to physical touches or showing her vulnerable side.

Noticing her nervousness, you said something that made Melissa feel more relaxed again,“I missed you too. Staying with you is so much more fun than being here alone.”

She hummed and snuggled into you even more, making a smile escape your lips. The two of you enjoyed the comfortable silence that settled in. Wishing more good moments like this would happen.

Returning from her memory, Melissa stood up and ignored Barbara's malicious look and headed towards the door ready to go to lunch.

—

You were already in the teachers' lounge, and every time you heard a step, you felt your heart stop. The plan to try to avoid Melissa was still going through your head, but neither option was good, suddenly an idea came.

You threw yourself on the floor and quickly crawled to a table near the windows, hiding under it, the cameras filmed your movements and your friends' confused reactions.

“Y/N! What are you doing?” Janine asks.

“Nothing,” you grumbled, praying to eat in peace, “I'm just having lunch, like a normal person does.”

“You are literally eating under the table. That’s definitely not something you would do and everyone knows that. And it's kind of weird.” Gregory notes.

You were surprised by Ava, who ran in. Not wanting to miss anything she knew was going to happen. The principal loved an entertainment and the whole school knew. “I don’t think Melissa would mind if you said you consider her a milf. She would probably love it, saying it's hot and all of that shit,” she shrugged.

“What?” Jacob questioned.

“AVA!” you scolded her, “You aren't helping! And by the way, how do you know about this?”

“Girl, I know everything. And I must say, it's the funniest thing I've ever seen in my life.”

“What’s going on?” Janine alternates her gaze between the two of you.

You explained everything in detail to all of them who to be honest found it all a bit comical, but seeing the way you were nervous made them take it back.

After hearing Melissa and Barbara's voices, you got scared and shrank even more under the table. Hoping they wouldn't notice you. But that didn't happen. When the redhead entered, all attention quickly went straight to her. The cameras zoomed in on what she was using and everyone was shocked.

“What are you looking at?” She growls in a threatening tone and the teachers return to focusing on their activities, afraid of her. You laughed, that was so Melissa. And that's what ruined the chance to avoid her.

“Dear? What are you doing under the table?” Barbara asks.

“I was just seeing if...the tables were in a good condition! That's it, actually, I have to go now,” you walk towards the door, but a firm hand on your wrist stops you.

“Where are you going? I thought we agreed to have lunch together,” Melissa spoke.

“It’s not a good idea for us to do that,” you pull away from her touch. Waiting for her to give in, but something unexpected happened.

She took the lunch bag from your hands, standing on her tiptoes so as not to let you reach and looking straight into your eyes.

“Give me that back now!” You complain and she shakes her head.

“Tell me, what’s really going on? Why can you barely look at me?” she whispers that last part.

“It doesn't matter.” You respond, feeling your blood rise and your breathing slowly fail.

“Can you stop acting like a child and act like an adult, for once?” She retorts, making you roll your eyes.

“FUCK YOU MELISSA,” you yelled and everyone gasped. In years of working at Abbott, you had never raised your voice to anyone, especially the redhead, “JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!”

Melissa's eyes widened, surprised to see you facing her and saying that stuff. A feeling of pain settled in her body, but obviously she didn't show it.

Impatient and without thinking twice. You threw yourself at the older woman, who got scared, losing her balance. Because of this, both fell to the icy ground.

Melissa hit her back, letting out a groan of pain, seeing what you had caused, you quickly stood up, getting off of her.

“I’m sorry, Lissa. I’m so fucking stupid,” you tremble, feeling tears come out of your eyes.

Feeling overwhelmed, you ran out of the lounge, leaving a bewildered redhead.

“Y/N, PLEASE COME BACK HERE!” Melissa's voice echoed throughout the school, now she was going to worry about trying to fix what the hell had happened between you two. And it wouldn't be easy.

[vaultdwellerbarbie]

Enchanted (To Meet You)

Javi (Twisters)/Original Female Character (14.1k wc)

Summary Having been born and raised in New York, Emily jumps at the chance to join her co-worker Kate on a journey to Oklahoma. What she doesn't anticipate is how drawn she feels toward her friend, Javi.

this can honestly be read as a reader insert, there are no physical descriptors - only that the main character is a woman. it's easier for me to write with a name, so i wrote with a name, but i left no physical descriptors so it could be read as an insert. anyway, please enjoy! i've been into anthony ramos for a long time. yes this is the only post on my blog, dw about it.

Growing up in New York City, the idea of a tornado was something that Emily had never needed to worry about in a capacity other than the worry that any child feels when they first learn about something that could be dangerous to them. To her, it felt like being worried that the bermuda triangle or the Titanic were going to be much bigger issues in her life as she got older. 

That fascination, though, was something else. She enjoyed learning about weather, and she wished that she could do more to protect people when something like that did happen to them. Of course, she had no real experience with it. That didn’t mean that she didn’t care, and that was why she ended up becoming fast friends with Kate when she joined the team that she had only recently started working on.

At the time, Emily had only been working with the company for half of a year. She hadn’t really made very many meaningful friendships, and she wasn’t sure if she was going to any time soon. When Kate joined, she finally had someone her age who was a little bit left out of a conversation because they were both new, so she befriended her quickly after. 

Kate had been a bit closed off when they first met, but when she opened up about her past and what brought her to the city, Emily understood why. Kate had lost people who mattered to her, people who were the closest to her. She imagined that she felt some kind of survivors guilt, knowing that her friends had been killed by a storm that she had miraculously been spared from. All but one friend, one friend who she wasn’t really in contact with.

To Emily, it was clear that Kate was trying to shut out the past because of her guilt - because it’s the only way to protect her own mental health after what happened. It wasn’t the healthiest coping mechanism, but it wasn’t Emily’s place to say that.

That was the real reason Emily had been she asked Kate if she could accompany her to Oklahoma. Kate was adamant that it was a bad idea. First, she was worried about going in general. When her friend Javi showed up, she got a bit clammy. She didn’t want to go with him because she had no interest in facing her past or being face first with another storm. When she finally did decide to go, her worry became about losing another friend. But Emily knew that Kate was going to need some sort of support system, and she just wasn’t sure that Javi could be that. She didn’t know him, she hadn’t met him, and he was the one bringing her back into this. In the beginning, Emily was incredibly wary of him.

When the two of them left for Oklahoma, after Kate finally agreed that she was okay with Emily coming along so long as she listened to everything she said and didn’t do anything dangerous, that was when she finally met Javi.

The first thing that she noticed about him was his freckles. Emily had been told that he looked different when Kate knew him. His hair was longer, he looked a bit messier, not as put together as he was now. She didn’t question that, but she did insist upon seeing pictures once she was face to face with him since he absolutely did not fit the description that she had been given when she first heard about him anymore.

That curiosity that she felt at first seemed to morph into something else by the time they had actually arrived in Oklahoma. Maybe it was the field of freckles that covered his cheeks, or the way that his eyes lit up when she explained to him how weather patterns in New York had worked. Or, maybe it was the way that he grew instantly worried when she admitted that she had never seen a tornado in person. She wasn’t sure what it was that started it, but she knew by the end of their first interaction she had the unmistakably familiar feeling of a crush gnawing away at her mind every time she thought about Kate’s friend. 

Even though it was nothing serious, Kate could read her like a book. She didn’t shy away from pointing it out to her after dinner that first night, but Emily brushed it aside. Even if she were to admit that she had a crush, it didn’t matter. Neither of them were staying in Oklahoma, Emily’s entire life was in New York - even though some part of her had been yearning for a change from the mundane normality of the life that she had been used to for her entire life, she wasn’t just going to uproot now. Not because of something so small as finding some guy who she had only just met more attractive than she should. 

Kate understood this, but some part of her liked the idea of seeing her two friends get together. Javi had always been alone, she always really seemed to want someone by his side but never seemed to have that. She had hoped, with how well he had done for himself since she last saw him, many he had found someone. But he had devoted his entire life to his work and, seemingly, just didn’t consider himself to be someone who had time for romance. She could understand his thoughts, but it certainly wasn’t healthy. He needed to have something stable, and chasing tornadoes wasn’t stable. But, dating someone who lived so far away probably wasn’t the stability that he needed either. She let it go after that, but she did still find it amusing the next morning when the three of them were in the car together and her good friend just couldn’t keep her eyes off of her other good friend no matter how much she tried to hide what she was doing. 

As the day progressed, Emily was almost surprised that Kate intended on sticking around for the entire week. She had promised Javi that she was going to stay, but she figured that Javi would understand if Kate couldn’t do this because of the trauma that she held closely to her chest after everything hat happened with the rest of their friends. Emily, however, wasn’t opposed to staying. Even though that day had been her first time seeing a tornado, she was excited to see more of them. It was scary, but it was thrilling. Her life had become so utterly mundane that something so thrilling felt foreign to her, but not foreign enough to scare her off. 

By the time she was meant to retire for bed, Emily couldn’t help but sit outside and watch the people enjoying the weather. While tornadoes were rather unpredictable in many cases, and caused devastation, it almost seemed like these people enjoyed them not because of what they could do - but for a number of reasons. Maybe it was human resilience, seeing something without a face, without a person to blame, that could do that much damage to their homes and their lives and spitting in its face to tell it that you weren’t afraid of it. Or, maybe it was just because they were so desensitized to tornadoes that they genuinely were no longer afraid of them - maybe it was just like a roller coaster to them; terrifying, but something that they were used to enough that it didn’t bother them anymore. She wasn’t sure which reason was more plausible. Maybe, some of these people just felt like they were in the presence of a celebrity when being around the Tornado Wrangler and were only so excited because of their proximity to him. 

Her thoughts were cut short by someone beside her, her grip on her sleeve tightening for a moment before she recognized that it was Javi.

“You’re not in New York anymore, not every guy is a threat.” He teased, moving to stand beside her. She was pretty sure he would have gone home by now, but she had seem him speaking with Kate for a moment. 

“I don’t know, your kinda mean friend seems like a threat to me.” 

“Scott? Scott won’t do anything. He’s all bark, I promise.” He responded, but there was something more to his voice. He almost sounded like he didn’t believe that, in a way. Or, there was something deeper. But, she had only been here for a day. If she were to start creating conspiracy theories, she would at least need to make it to the midpoint of the week before she allowed her mind to truly start wandering in that direction. 

“Figured you would have gone home.”

“Kinda hungry, Kate wanted to go back to her room. I was wondering if you wanted to get something to eat.” 

“So nice to be your second choice, I’m honored.” Emily was clearly joking, something that Javi picked up on. Of course she would come second, he was catching up with an old friend and she just sort of tagged along because Kate said it was okay. “I’m sorry if I intruded, by the way, I kn- you invited Kate, I just wanted to come.”

“If I was upset, I wouldn’t ask you to come to dinner with me.”

“Dinner at eleven? Is this a meal time?” She questioned, but moved away from the balcony. “We should probably go before every place in the area closes.”

“Some places don’t close here, do you not have that in New York? I thought that city never sleeps.” 

“Some places don’t close there.” She replied, shrugging. It felt as though a conversation about the city’s insistence to close buildings and bathrooms past a certain hour so they could refuse their services to homeless people didn’t feel like polite conversation, so she opted to change the subject. “You ever consider moving away?”

“I’ve considered it, but what I love to do is here. You?” 

“I’ve considered it.” Emily responded, but she wasn’t sure where to go from there. She was considering it now, but she wasn’t sure where she would go. Her entire life - her history, her family, her friends, her work - was all in New York. “I kinda want to go somewhere else, I’m kind of bored of New York.”

“Seems like there’s so much to do there that you could never get bored. Here, the kids just go to the Wal-Mart parking lot for fun.” 

“Sure, there’s things. But they’re the same things I’ve always known.” She wasn’t sure where exactly she would go, or what exactly she would do. 

“Does Kate know?”

Emily got into the passenger seat of his car, not ignoring the slight flutter in her stomach when he held the door for her (really, she didn’t ignore it because she was internally scolding herself). 

“Kate doesn’t know because it’s barely an idea. She knows I wanted to experience something new, that’s why I came here. But uprooting my whole life is a big thing, and I don’t even know if it’s plausible. No need to stress out a friend when it might not even work out.” 

Javi was quiet for a moment, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot. The people in the parking lot faded away, but she couldn’t help but allow her thoughts to linger on them. Did those people all know each other? Or was it just a little bit easier to make friends in a place like this?

“I think, if you want to do something now, you’re probably going to regret not even looking into it a few years from now. It’s probably best to do it… you know, when you have less years invested. What’s really holding you back?”

“Money.” She answered, maybe a bit too honestly. “I have five years experience at this job, but that doesn’t mean that I’m going to find another one. I really don’t want to report the weather on a local news channel.”

“I’d offer you a job, but you seem to hate Scott.”

“I don’t- I don’t hate him, I just think he could be a little bit more… chipper.” 

“Is that how you describe yourself while watching a tornado, usually?”

“Well, since I’d never watched a tornado in person before today, I guess I wouldn’t say usually.” 

“Never?”

“I thought Kate told you.”

“That explains why you looked…” He wasn’t entirely sure how to describe it. “I wish I could feel that for the first time again.”

Emily turned to watch him as he drove. It was clear that there was something about him that she didn’t know, not just because she had only just met him. Perhaps it was because he was harboring some pain within him that she had seen within Kate, but it seemed like he had adjusted differently. Considering the fact that he hadn’t narrowly survived the storm like Kate had, she figured that it made sense that he would adjust differently. He, also, hadn’t left right after. Maybe his coping mechanism was just different, or maybe there was just something about him that she couldn’t put her finger on yet. 

For some reason, it felt like a better reason to be heading out with him in the middle of the night because she was curious about who he was than it did to admit that a good portion of her reasoning was just because she found him attractive.

Truthfully, she was curious. But, she also knew that a majority of the things she wanted to know were things it would be impolite to ask about since she had only just met him. She wanted to know more about his past with Kate, but she knew that what the two of them had been through was something she probably wasn’t close enough to hear about from him. She wanted to know what he thought about Kate’s coping skills, friend to friend about their mutual friend, but she doubted that was something he would divulge to her having only just met her. There were a lot of things that she absolutely wanted to know, but she didn’t fell equipped to ask them because she didn’t think it would be polite - because she didn’t think she would answer if she was in his shoes.

Still, she knew that he was curious about her friendship with Kate. She knew the entire reason he probably asked her to come with him to dinner was because of her friendship with Kate, because it was worlds apart from what friendship he had with her and because he was curious about what Big City Kate and her Big City Friends had been getting up to since she had left Oklahoma. She was certain he would worm those questions out of her at some point, and by the time that their dinner was done, she knew that she was right. 

Some part of her wanted to believe that was the only reason he had invited her out, and she was sure that it was a big part of it. But it became entirely clear to her that it wasn’t the only reason because it almost seemed like he genuinely did want to get to know her as a person. There was something about Javi that seemed inherently lonely, but that loneliness didn’t make any sense to her since he was surrounded by people. Was it because those people were technically under his employment? Was that something that just came along with her knowing about what he had been through? She wasn’t sure, she just knew that there was something about him that made her feel like he craved closeness with people - maybe that was part of his true motivation for bringing Kate back to Oklahoma. Maybe he was just lonely, and maybe he was just relieved that he got two people who wanted to talk to him instead of just one. 

“I thought they would’ve been out here all night.” Emily commented as he pulled back into the parking lot. He was able to park a lot closer to the staircase, even though there was still some heavy machinery and cars that were preventing him from parking as close to where she would need to be as possible. 

“They’re out here a lot, but they’re mainly just groupies. Following the Tornado Wrangler is kind of what they do, he just happened to go to bed.” Javi commented, watching as she moved to exit the car.

“Thank you, by the way. It was nice to talk to you.” She said, moving to get out of the car. “I’ll see you in the morning, yeah?”

“What kind of guy do you think I am not walking you to your room? This place is safer than New York, but not that safe.” 

She raised an eyebrow, but stepped out of the car with him anyway. “You get a lot of murders around these parts?”

“I just wouldn’t be so trusting of motel guests, that’s all.” 

That was a fair assessment. Motels were never given reputations as the safest places in the world, so he was probably right about worrying about her walking to her room on her own. Anyone could be lurking in the shows, especially since it was pushing two in the morning at this point. The only people outside were people like them - younger people, just having a good time - and creeps lurking around places like these hoping to find younger women having a good time. 

“Well, now I’m a little worried about you walking back to the car alone. Should I give you my pepper spray?”

There was a small smile on Javi’s face as he moved to stand next to her, but he simply shook his head. “I’d rather you keep that. Give me your number, I’ll text you when I make it home safely. Sound fair?”

“Sounds fair enough to me.”

Now, the issue with Emily in this instance was simple: She had no romantic experience beyond a few failed dates. She was constantly working, and she always had trouble meeting people in New York. There were so many people there that it could get overwhelming, and because of the vast number of people she saw every single day, any opportunity for a meet-cute was shattered by the realization that she was probably never going to run into that person again. Lost connections aside, Emily had no idea when anyone was flirting with her.

Sure Javi had asked for her phone number, but she had asked for reassurance that he was going to be safe. Was she flirting with him? Was he flirting with her? She didn’t know, she just knew that it was easy to talk to him and she found him rather easy on the eyes. As far as she knew, she was probably never going to see him in person again after this week - at least, not for a good long while. So, she had no apprehensions about just living in the moment. Maybe it was something, or maybe it was nothing, but she wasn’t going to know if she just ignored it entirely. 

Emily watched as he quickly texted her number so she could add him to her phone, but she thought nothing of it. Or, she tried to think nothing of it.

How many people had she exchanged phone numbers with in a similar manner while working in a professional setting? They were both professionals, in a sense. It was true that she was predominantly here for personal gain, that it had nothing to do with work. But, she also knew that they both worked in very similar fields and could - ultimately - help each other out. Was that actually why they were exchanging phone numbers? She wished that she had more answers to her questions, but she also wished that she didn’t have any of these questions. Having only just met Javi, it felt nonsensical to wonder if he also has a crush on her - it felt childish, and she felt far beyond worrying about something like that when she very next day she was going to put her life on the line (again) in the name of science.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Javi.” 

“Can I call you Em?”

“Only Kate calls me Em.” She replied, but she also figured that was where he got the idea. “Sure.”

“Cool. I’ll see you in the morning, Em.” 

With that, she turned to go back into her motel room. There was almost a palpable awkwardness that they both definitely wanted to break away from as quickly as possible. It felt like there was something that should have filled that gap. If it was her saying goodnight to Kate, she would have given her a small hug. If it was her saying goodbye to someone who had just brought her to a romantic dinner and not one that was simply between two friends, she would have probably leaned in to kiss him since it had gone well. 

It was neither of those things. 

That left her returning to her room, wondering if there was something more going on. But, even if there was, she wasn’t nearly awake enough to give it time to think about. She was exhausted from such a long day, and she barely found the energy to change into her pajamas. The idea of having a long thought about how she, at her big age, was having such feelings about someone who she was likely never going to see again was even more tiring than just going to bed. Even in exchanging phone numbers, she doubted that she was going to have occasion to come back here. At least, not any time soon if she wanted to keep her job. Considering the fact that her job was the thing keeping her fed, she really didn’t feel like being fired because she kept going to the midwest to fornicate with some guy. Some guy, who she must note, she’s only just met, knows barely anything about, and simply has a crush on. 

The next morning should have been better, but it was when things when awry. 

Kind of.

Emily and Kate had made their way to a local diner, the same diner that Emily had found herself sitting at with Javi the night before. But whatever personality that she had seen in him had been gone. He seemed drained, sitting there beside his friend who couldn’t hide his rude comments about Kate and some man who just screamed evil corporate manager. She couldn’t prove that there was anything inherently bad about Scott or the old man that was sitting across from him, but she was certain that she didn’t feel any good vibes radiating off of them. 

“Is he not a morning person?” Emily questioned, following Kate outside. 

“He’s… no, he’s not. But he’s not usually like that, either.” She replied, seemingly just as confused as Emily was. Whoever that man sitting across from him was, he looked familiar. Not only did he look familiar, but he screamed bad news to the both of them. She couldn’t make any outright accusations that he was a bad person, but she didn’t feel like it would be a good idea to not be, at the very least, wary. “How was your night?”

“Wh-”

“I saw you go to dinner with Javi, I’m just curious.” There was a teasing tone in her voice, which only made Emily more embarrassed than she otherwise would have been. 

“We didn’t do anything, Kate. He only invited me because you didn’t want to go and he didn’t want to go alone.” She replied, trying to brush off her almost accusation. Nothing had happened, nothing besides them exchanging numbers. Even then, Javi had only texted her to let her know that he was safe and she had only added him as a contact and liked his message. There wasn’t much more to it than that. In fact, there was nothing more to it than that.

“In all the years I’ve known you, you’ve always been so concerned with getting your sleep. You said yes because you wanted to go out with him.”

“Maybe I just wanted to look at him.”

“Same difference.” She commented, but she parted ways from Emily after a moment. Though Emily was far from unintelligent, she wasn’t nearly as gifted with storms as Kate was - nobody was as gifted with storms as Kate was. When she went somewhere, Emily knew that she was doing what she needed to do, and she knew that she was going to do it with more accuracy than any other person. Or, even any computer.

After a moment, she felt the presence of someone beside her. For a moment, she allowed warmth to fill you, because she knew from the smell of his cologne that it was Javi. But, she also noted that there was someone with him. Presumably, Scott. 

“You girls planning on pulling another stunt?”

“Only plans on my mind are a hot date with your mother.” 

“Alright, no need for that, guys.” Javi tried to be the voice of reason, but as far as Emily was concerned, the real reasonable behavior would have been keeping Scott far away from her and every other person on planet Earth since he had no interest in acting anywhere remotely normal. He was just, overall, incredibly rude. It rubbed her the wrong way, but it also rubbed her the wrong way that Javi was associating with someone like that. “We should talk about seating in the car today.” 

“What about it? 

“Well, you sat on Kate’s lap yesterday. I don’t think that was particularly safe.” 

There were only two seats in the car. The rest of the room was designated for equipment. “You saying I should stay back? Because I’m not riding with him.”

“He’s right here.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“Okay, okay. No. Not what I was saying.” Javi to place a hand on her shoulder, Emily’s eyes glancing from his hand to his face. Last night, he was just as attractive as he was now. But, in the sunlight, his freckles were easier to see, and his warm expression was far from what she had seen just a few moments ago in the diner. “I spent a little bit of time making it possible for you to sit between us, I just wanted to let you know. Okay? Are you calm?”

“I’m always calm.”

“She’s lying to you.” Kate started her from behind, but she had a pep in her step. Wherever they were going, they were doing it now. 

Emily, maybe, should have had more briefing on what sitting in the middle actually entailed. She was sitting shoulder to shoulder with both Javi and Emily since there was barely room for another person. She was harnessed in, and she couldn’t reason how this was any safer than being held by Kate. But, it was the thought that counted, and he probably wouldn’t put her in a situation that was entirely unsafe.

“If you feel like you’re insecure, let one of us know. You can share a seat with one of us, right Kate?”

“Absolutely, but I think she would be safer with you, Javi. You’re probably a little bit stronger than I am, even when you’re driving.” Kate, seemingly still giddy from whatever she had figured out, saw no harm in doing her part in setting up her two friends. Emily, however, saw that as a challenge to remain in her makeshift seat the entire time. But, she would swallow her pride if she absolutely had to. 

“Thanks for that.” Javi responded, taking the comment at what it was rather than really trying to consider what Kate was actually trying to do. Meanwhile, Emily couldn’t help but wonder if this seat was secure. She wasn’t bumping too much, it was clear that ‘a few minutes’ actually meant that he put a lot more effort into this than what he had originally let on. Still, her upper half wasn’t feeling very secure, and she was certain that she needed to at the very least keep her neck secure as to not get whiplash.

“You excited to see another tornado, Em?” Kate asked, glancing over at her. Emily smiled, but it was clear that her smile was nervous. She was excited, but she was also petrified.

“Absolutely. Terrified, but excited.”

“Don’t be terrified, just tell yourself that everything is going to be okay.” She reassured her, squeezing her hand for a moment before letting her go. Emily kept her eyes on the storm, the darkening clouds that she knew were soon going to turn into something a lot more damaging than some rain. 

For most of the journey, everything was okay. Kate was back in her element, and though she had initially been distracted by the constant feeling of Javi’s shoulder pressed against hers and the fact that she could vaguely feel the muscles in his arm working when he maneuvered with the steering wheel, she quickly became distracted by seeing her friend in a way that she had never seen her before. Kate had always been excited, but she had never gotten to see her like this before. It felt like this was natural for her, like this is where she belonged. Maybe it was, maybe it was a mistake that Kate was only agreeing to come back here for a week.

But, that intrigue into her friends mind was quickly distracted by the tornado. As much as Emily wanted to trust Javi’s driving abilities, whatever the definition of insecure was, she was certain that she was feeling it right now.

The moment it became clear that they couldn’t outrun it, she wasn’t sure what to do. She was absolutely petrified, her head down, her hand gripping onto anything and everything to give her some sort of stability. They were clearly, currently, inside of the tornado that was passing them. The loud noises on the top of the truck could either be from heavy debris, or something coming off of it. But she wasn’t sure what it was, or really what was going on, until it stopped. Well, when it stopped being on top of them. 

Her eyes slowly opened, meeting first with Javi’s. In her haste to grab something for stability, she must have ended up grabbing onto his hand (that and the gear shift beside her, she was grateful, at least, that she didn’t switch it into drive). 

“You okay, for this being your second tornado and all?” 

“I think so. Are we alive?”

“We’re alive.”

“Then I’m okay, probably.” She replied, slowly letting go of his hand. She really didn’t want to. It made her feel safer to have something to hold onto, but she knew that they were no longer in harms way. If they were in harms way to begin with, since they had survived what had happened without a scratch on their bodies. “But they won’t be.”

“Who?”

“It’s going toward a town, we need to help them.” Kate interjected, and it was clear to Emily just how serious this was based upon the way that Kate had paid no mind to her friends holding hands. It had been a heat of the moment thing, it would be wrong to tease her for it - but she knew under any other circumstance, Kate would have. But this took precedent over that, this was important. Because those people might not make it, and as cute as she found him, Emily certainly didn’t like the way that Javi valued his equipment over going somewhere that needed them to be there. 

Emily wanted to believe that Javi’s decision to help the people in the town who were going to be recovering from the storm was based upon his own desire to help people in need. Some part of her wondered if it had more to do with the fact that he felt like he needed Kate’s skills to help him, the fact that he had two people sitting beside him looking at him incredulously and pressuring him into doing the right thing. But she also couldn’t help but wonder if his apprehension about helping had less to do with himself, and more to do with the man who was sitting across from him and his obnoxiously rude friend. 

Anyone investing in any company is expecting a return, it’s the fundamental of business. What return was that man getting? In an ideal world, the desire to help people would be enough - but Bruce Wayne didn’t happen to be a majority of wealthy investors in the real world, and she was almost certain that a man who brought along company like a callous person like Scott was looking for some sort of financial return. The equipment Javi had was expensive, and she had seen the way he looked at that diner. But she chose to ignore it for a time being, they had more important things to worry about than her unfounded conspiracy theories. 

By the time they had arrived in the town, it was too late to do much other than help people recover. Emily had never seen a town after a tornado first hand, she had only seen the videos of it at work, on the news, on her phone. Everything through a screen that disconnected her from it personally, and made it impersonal in a sense. 

Seeing this in person, seeing rooms from people’s houses that were once covered, that they could have raised families in, ruined up close invoked a feeling in her that she couldn’t quite put a name on. That feeling was what led her to spend almost an hour speaking with an older woman in a rain covered wooden chair in her now roofless kitchen. Though she felt remiss not out there, not cleaning up, she didn’t quite realize what help she was giving to the woman who was able to have a conversation, to speak to someone interested in her story, to distract her from the financial struggle she was going to have to endure - from the struggle she was going to have with insurance companies over the phone for the coming weeks, and how she was going to have to leave this place in which she raised her entire family for a time. Even when she came back, no matter how much the insurance companies and contractors tried to make it the same as it was, those memories were never going to fully be repaired. 

At some point, Emily parted with the older woman and joined the rest of the people outside. Cleaning up houses, giving extra care to people’s photo albums and scrapbooks, helping them to salvage any food that wasn’t sucked up into the tornado or ruined by the rain. She even had the privilege of helping rescue a kitten from the debris, something that she often tried not to think about when researching storms since the toll on animals was something that made her heart ache. She remembered the stories from the famous Joplin tornado, the pain that the cows must have endured - animals were a sore spot, so it made her heart warm to be able to help one, to be able to return the kitten to the little girl who was worried sick on the sidewalk hoping beyond all hope that her beloved pet was okay.

Being involved in something like this in person was wholly different than it was just seeing it on the television. She ended up getting a ride back to the motel early into the evening, and quickly passing out from exhaustion from having worked so hard. The only thing on her mind as she went to sleep was how different it was, and how she truly felt as though she was making more of a difference here than she ever could have from her cushy office in Manhattan. In Manhattan, she was so disconnected from it all - so desensitized - that most people saw storms like these as an outlandish nightmare. On top of that, thy tended to see the victims of them as more of a number, than a person. That wasn’t their fault, they had no face to place upon them. But she did, now. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was going to feel more satisfied doing something like this, volunteering to help people in the most need, than she was sitting in an office and researching weather patterns. 

When she woke up, it was to the sound of someone pounding on her door. 

Emily bolted up, thinking that someone was trying to break in - maybe this place really was unsafe? But it was in that moment that she grabbed her phone, going to dial 9-1-1 before realizing that she had missed a number of messages from Javi and, somehow, a tornado watch that had shifted into a warning. 

Moving quickly, she opened her door and put her shoes on as quickly as possible, the panicked shouts of her friend signaling her to follow him. Moving to grab a coat, he took her hand and quickly gave him the one that he was wearing. The only thing she had time to pick up was her wallet as she followed him down to his car.

“How did you sleep through that?” 

“I don’t know!” 

“I tried to get Kate, I can’t find her. We have to move, okay?”

“Alright, okay.”

Emily has no recollection of there being a storm predicted for that night, but that was just the thing: tornadoes could be unpredictable. It was the most unpredictable, the nocturnal ones that were the most difficult to see coming, that she knew were the most dangerous. It felt like there was some sort of being creeping up on them - they knew that it was there, lurking in the night, but they just weren’t sure where exactly it was until it was too late. 

Javi’s car was rather strong, so she felt safe in it. But she also knew that no amount of strength could prevent the damage an especially strong tornado could cause. She just trusted that he knew what he was doing - after all, he had been living through things like this for seemingly his entire life. Assuredly, he knew where he was going.

“Isn’t this Scott’s car?”

He nodded, but didn’t say anything. Scott didn’t seem like an overly emotional person, and he also didn’t seem to care much about other people. It didn’t surprise her that he hadn’t cared enough to come along with Javi, but it almost made her wonder what he was doing instead. She was certain that, wherever he was, it was somewhere safe. But, what motivations did he have for whatever it was that he was doing. Some part of her didn’t want to know, she was certain that there was something about him that she just couldn’t trust. 

“You okay?” 

Emily’s silence must have been a worry for Javi, but she knew that he interpreted it in a way other than her thinking about what was actually on her mind. She was worried about the tornado, but in some weird way, she was calmed because she trusted that Javi wouldn’t have snatched her up in the middle of the night if he didn’t think she would be safer with him. She was certain that he believed that her silence was her worrying about the storm, when in reality it was her worrying that there was something about him that she should be privy to before she decides to trust him entirely, at this point.

“Where was Kate?”

“I was hoping she would have been with you.” 

It was odd, because Emily had no idea where Kate would have been if not with either her or Javi. Well, maybe she had some idea. Kate had seemingly been talking to Owens more than she should have been, maybe she was with him. That was the only other place where she could think of that she would have been, but even that didn’t bring her peace. What if the man was being reckless? What if he brought her on a nighttime chase? 

“Hey, we’ll find her, okay? We’ll go back to the motel when the storm ends.” He had stopped the car at this point, pulling into a place that gave you both a bit more coverage. A place that, he seemed to believe or know, was out of the path of the storm. Her eyes locked on his, taking in the way that he looked in that moment. He was tired, but he still looked more energetic than he first had when she saw him in the morning. She wanted to trust him, she wanted to not be worried that there was something lurking under the surface that she just didn’t know about, but it was difficult for her to do so without answers.

“Who was that guy this morning?”

“An investor, I told-”

“Yeah, but like… what’s he gaining? I don’t live that far from Wall Street, I know the type.” Emily felt bad asking him this. He had gotten her out of a dangerous situation, stuck his neck out for her when he had only just met her. She liked Javi, she trusted that he had no intention of doing anything to hurt her. But, she also knew the type to fall victim to financial traps. If he wanted to do what he did professionally, he needed investors, and if he happened to have someone who supported his project - maybe he just felt like he had no other choice. Having no other choice, just following orders, doesn’t absolve him of any wrongdoing. But, some part of her still doesn’t want to believe that there’s something inherently wrong with Javi. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

He was silent for a moment, regarding her in a way that told her what she already knew - she had crossed a line. But he kept his eyes on her, his soft, warm eyes that made her want to stay here forever. But she had to remind herself that she didn’t know this man. That her little crush was nothing more than that, a little crush. 

“He buys properties from people, he helps them rebuild.” There was a tone of defeat in his voice, but it also felt like that line was rehearsed. He knew that one of you was going to ask at one point, but he also seemed ashamed of it. He was doing what he was doing because he had to. He had to do this, there was no other way for him to fund his project. While the first part of his sentence seemed correct, the second part seemed entirely like course correction. The man bought the properties of victims, but it was clear it wasn’t to help the town rebuild or even to financially help the victims. He supported the chases because he wanted to be first on the scene, to make it appear that he was a caring guy. He wanted to make that money, to own the most land. He wanted to turn other people’s tragedies into a profit.

Emily wanted to say something in response, but she could see the defeat on Javi’s face. The worry in his eyes. Mainly, she wanted to help him get out of that situation, but she wasn’t sure how. Instead, she opted to change the subject.

“I like it here, you know. Helping those people today… I really wanted to make a difference tracking storms, but I was just one person in a sea of people and I really wasn’t doing anything meaningful.” She had made some progress. She mainly enjoyed leading groups of people around the place, groups of students who struggled to understand what a tornado even was. She liked helping people, that gave her a greater sense of fulfillment than any paycheck she had ever received. But it didn’t much matter, not in this economy. She had bills to pay, and she couldn’t just go without a job because she wanted to serve the greater good - how long would that last without gas money or a roof over her head? “I like most of the people I’ve met here.”

Javi’s eyes lit up for a second, because for the first time since they had started interacting, she was positive that she had actually gone through with flirting with him. He had picked up on it, noticed it. He would be naive to not realize what she was doing, and that was enough to distract him from their previous conversation. But it wasn’t enough to distract either of them from the sound of the tornado that was getting closer to them.

Emily could feel her heartbeat picking up, her eyes focusing on the mirrors in the car but knowing that she wasn’t going to be able to see anything. It was too dark, if she could see the tornado itself, that meant that she was probably not going to be seeing much after that.

Picking up on her nerves, she watched as Javi offered his hand. It was odd, really. She had only just met him, but she knew she felt more comfortable with him than she should. He made her feel safer, made her feel a whole lot less afraid of the impending storm. Reaching over, she took ahold of his hand and kept her eyes locked on the mirror. Lights in the distance were knocked out, lights that were getting closer and closer to her. At some point, she was certain that she had a tough grip on Javi’s hand, but he didn’t stop her. If it hurt him, he didn’t show it. 

By the time they were certain it was over, there was only one thing on either of their minds: finding Kate. 

Emily moved to let go of Javi’s hand, but stalled for a moment. She liked the feeling of his hand in hers, and since she was so nervous that they weren’t even going to find Kate, she almost didn’t want to let go because of that. Maybe they were both scared, maybe that was why he decided to drive with one hand so she could keep holding onto him. Javi would tell himself that he was doing it solely for Emily’s comfort, because he knew that she had to be scared since this was a whole new experience for her. But, he knew that he was doing it for himself, too. As much as he wanted to deny it, since he really hadn’t made any moves to commit to a relationship with anyone or act on any attraction he felt in quite some time, he couldn’t deny that he felt a mutual attraction toward Kate’s friend.

It was Kate herself who brought it up, Kate who put the idea into his mind when she noticed that he had been looking at her for a little too long. Kate, too, who pushed him to bring Emily to dinner with him the night before rather than going with him herself. She wasn’t sure what her motives were entirely, since they all knew that Emily didn’t live in Oklahoma, but that that didn’t mean that they couldn’t… well, they really weren’t doing anything at all. Javi saw that look in Emily’s eyes when he admitted just a piece of what his investors actually do. Once she sees it in action, once she does her own research, she’ll want nothing to do with him. Hell, she might want nothing to do with him the second they both find Kate. 

Those worries don’t stop them, though. Her fingers that had started to loosen from his hand maintaining a firm grip once she realized that he wasn’t going to force her to let go. If he had to have both hands to drive because of debris, he would, but she also needed to keep in mind that he was acclimated to this. 

When they did, eventually, find Kate Emily was left with a question. Kate left without much notice, and as much as Emily wanted to follow her, she didn’t feel that it would be right to do so. This was something that she needed to do on her own, some journey that she needed to go on to cope with what had happened. If Emily went with her, she knew she would be intruding. But, she also knew that it looked like she was choosing Javi over her, not only that, but that she condoned what it was clear to both of them that he was doing to support his business that wasn’t really helping anyone at all. While that wasn’t at all what she was doing, she knew that’s what it looked like. Still, she had no one else to go with, so she stayed. She stayed even though she would rather eat dirt than spend more time with Scott than she needed to. She didn’t really know the stormchasers that Kate had gotten acquainted with, even though she knew that they seemed to actually have a vested interest in helping people.

Perhaps, then, her path toward helping people could be a little bit different. She wasn’t naive, she was sure that there were a number of factors that drove Javi to continue supporting the businessman he worked for - the businessman who took every storm he could to cash in on people’s lives being ruined. She was also sure that he wasn’t going to change his ways because she - someone who he had only just met - insisted that ‘this isn’t you’, and ‘you need to worry about the greater good, it’s in your heart’. Emily has no idea what’s in his heart, but if she can try to convince him in some way that what he’s doing is wrong, Storm Par can’t function on the capacity that it is without him. If that’s the case, maybe the people who actually are helping won’t have so many people that need as much help as they do. Maybe her journey could simply be trying her best to encourage Javi - the only one she imagines isn’t too far gone - in the opposite direction without being too outwardly clear about her motivations. 

Sleep doesn’t come quite as easily for Emily that night as it hand earlier in the day, or even as it had the night before. Eventually, her mind stops racing and she’s able to get some sleep. 

Woken up at roughly nine in the morning to the sound of someone knocking on her door, she squints at the light coming in from the doorway as she opens it to find Javi standing before her once again.

“Starting to think you don’t own pajamas.”

“I just didn’t think about it.” She commented, glancing down at what she had fallen asleep in. She quickly removes the jacket that she had been wearing, the one that he gave her when she was rushed out of her room the night before. Handing it too him, she feels instant relief from the humidity coming from outside of her room. “Give me like twenty minutes, I’ll be ready to go to… where are we going?”

“Actually, I think you should stay back today.”

“I’d rather not.” 

“You saw a lot yesterday, you almost died twice.” 

As nice as the sentiment sounded, she knew that it wasn’t genuine. Javi, if he wasn’t so concerned with his finances and shady donors, would have been rightfully concerned that Emily had almost died and seen so much after having seen no tornadoes ever in her life before. But, she knew that there was something that he was hiding.

“I also just don’t want to force you to be around Scott.”

“Well, you’re not forcing me. I want to come.” 

“Kate has my car too, I have no where for you to sit.” 

“I’ll sit with the equipment.” 

He contemplated for a moment, but shook his head. “I don’t think that’s safe.” 

“Okay, you said I could share a seat with you.”

“Not safe-”

“You don’t trust me, I get it. But I came here for a week, I paid for a flight, I paid for this motel room, and I’m getting my money’s worth.” 

Javi desperately wanted to say no, but agreed regardless of what he wanted. If you were going to insist upon coming, you were going to insist upon coming. He couldn’t simply tell you no, it would only make you distrust him more. Some part of him wondered if it even mattered if you distrusted him. If Kate wanted nothing to do with him, what did her friend who he barely knew actually matter? But those thoughts were the rude, uncaring thoughts that he knew that the people surrounding him carried in their hearts. That fear alone, that fear of turning into them and forgetting how to use his heart, was enough to make him give her what she was asking for. 

“Fine, you can come.” 

“Thank you, Javi. Let me get dressed, and if you leave without me just know that I’ll track you down.” 

“Noted, I won’t leave without you.”

Shutting the door, Emily started getting dressed while trying to figure out what her exact game plan here was. She knew that she could really say anything to change Javi’s mind, but she also knew that she needed to do something. What he was doing was more dangerous than she felt he recognized, the people supporting him went against everything that Kate had told her that he stood for. 

Kate. Right.

Checking her phone, Emily opened it to find a missed call from Kate that was followed by a text message. Checking out of the window to ensure that Javi was waiting down stairs and out of earshot, she called her back. It only took one ring for her to pick up, instantly bombarding her with a question of if she was okay.

“I’m fine, I’m- that’s why I’m calling you, I’m worried.”

“I’m okay, Kate.” She reassured her.

“I’m worried that you- let me just give you directions to my mom’s farm, you can come here. Javi- he’s not what he used to be, he’s not who he used to be.”

“That’s why I stayed.” She admitted, setting the phone call to speaker phone as she continued to get dressed. “What he’s doing is hurting a lot more people than just himself.”

“You don’t think you can change his mind, do you?”

“With enough effort-”

“Em, you just met him.”

“It’s not about him… entirely.” It was, predominantly, not about him. There was one sliver of Emily that believed it was, because she wanted better for him, because she had recognized that she enjoyed helping people and he needed some help. And, yes, because her kind of wanted to kiss him. But, that small sliver was not the largest part of her reasoning. “If he keeps doing this, more people are going to get hurt when they don’t need to so some old man can make a buck. It’s awful, Kate. I don’t- I don’t think he’s a bad person, I think he’s just working with bad people. I think he’s the only one who may change his mind.”

“What’s your plan then?”

“Not sure, working on it.”

“Em-”

“I’m not telling you that I can fix him, I’m just saying that I think I need to try to help. If just one town suffers a little bit less because of me, I’ll be satisfied. I’ve done nothing in the last five years but silently watch things happen, I need to do this.” 

Silence was what you heard on the other line, before you heard a sigh. A sigh that you knew all too well from Kate. “I trust you, but don’t blame me if Javi is unfixable.” 

“I’ll have nobody to blame but him.”

“Okay, stay safe out there.”

“You too.” 

With that, Emily finished getting dressed before meeting Javi downstairs. Though she could feel his glare, she avoided making eye contact with Scott as she climbed into the back of the car with the equipment.

“Sure you wouldn’t rather share a seat?” Javi seemed genuinely considered, eyeing her harnessless torso. She merely shrugged, there were no massive storms predicted for the day, so she doubted that she was going to be in as much danger as she had been. 

“I’ll be okay.”

“You could always have her stay back, if you’re so concerned.”

“She’s coming with us.” Javi didn’t pay Scott’s comment much mind, and Emily did her best to ignore it as well as she found a position in the back that felt comfortable enough. She wasn’t fully sure where she were going, she just knew that she was going to be a part of it one way or another. Maybe it was a good sign toward progress that Javi had ignored Scott asking him to insist Emily stay back, or, maybe he had just already conceded his protests and didn’t want to have the same conversation with her again.

What Emily couldn’t have predicted, even though she spent the entire car ride trying to predict and plot things, was that Javi would end up driving to Kate’s farm that Emily had said that she wouldn’t accompany her at. Maybe that was why he didn’t want her to come, because he knew that the conversation between the two of them wouldn’t go well and he knew that Emily was going to be upset about it. But, as upset as she was about it, she kept her mouth shut. It wasn’t until Javi motioned for her to follow him to the car that Kate had borrowed, that she finally got out of the awkwardly silent car she had been in alone with Scott for a few moments to follow him to the other car. 

Though she wanted to consider changing her mind for a moment, Javi had done Kate a small favor. Kate, in turn, seemed to have a more understanding expression on her face of Emily’s efforts. Granted, Emily didn’t think she had done anything to change his mind, nor did Kate. She could, however, see the tiny bit of light that was still inside of him. Maybe Emily’s idea wasn’t that far-fetched, but neither of them could be too sure about that. 

Taking the passenger seat, Emily watched as Javi spoke with Scott on the phone. 

“He’s taking that car back, do you want to get lunch?”

“But what about…” She motioned upwards, the sky becoming grayer than it had been for most of the ride there. 

“We have about two hours before that, and the ride back isn’t that long. Do you want to work on an empty stomach?” 

Emily was a tad surprised. He was inviting her to lunch, he was sending Scott back specifically so they would have lunch alone. She thought about saying no, believing that might be a step too far. But she almost wanted it to be a step too far, especially as she looked at the hopeful expression in those bright eyes of his. She couldn’t deny that she found Javi attractive, she knew that from the moment she met him. But she also knew that she was supposed to leave this place, that she was supposed to go back to Manhattan, that she was supposed to be doing this to make Storm Par less of a threat to the general public because of the creepy, shadowy donors that operated behind the scenes. 

She was supposed to be responsible, not just on time - but early. But that was why she never had much luck with romance, wasn’t it? She never had time for it, never had time for the distraction of it. She knew there was a storm coming, she knew that they were going to be in a time crunch, and all of her sensibilities were telling her to say no because it was what she had been doing when it came to desire for her entire life. Instead, Emily simply smiled and agreed to go to lunch with him. It, honestly, felt a bit freeing to do what she wanted (even if for only a short amount of time) rather than what she knew was wanted of her. 

Besides, going to lunch with Javi gave her more time to talk to him. Emily had a lot of questions that weren’t being answered when she was surrounded by people that he worked with, he almost seemed like a different person when it was just the two of them. Maybe that was just the way that he was, some men did seem like entirely different people when they were around their friends. But, for some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to think that was the case. Javi was easy to talk to, easy to be around. She liked speaking to him, and as much as she wanted to think logically and consider her plan, some part of her was screaming at her to just enjoy the fact that the guy she had found attractive at first glance wanted to go to lunch with her. Even if his reasoning was different from hers, it was at least nice since it was something she didn’t participate in a lot back in New York. Some part of her, as much as she wanted to deny it, really didn’t want to go back to New York.

Once they got to the small diner that they were going to eat at, Javi was quick to hold the door for her. She hadn’t even really seen him get to the door, so how he had moved that quickly while she was getting out of the car was beyond her. Still, she didn’t think about it too much. She couldn’t, since she was focused on the five seconds that he had his hand on her mid-back to guide her in to the restaurant. It was polite, but it made them look like a couple to onlookers. Even with that in mind, she couldn’t bring herself to mind. 

Sitting down across from him, they both ordered something simple before he finally started really talking to her. 

“So, you said yesterday that you were thinking about leaving the city.”

“I did say that.”

“Still thinking about it? Or did some sleep change your mind?” There was almost a hopefulness in his eyes, like he had a particular answer that he wanted her to say but wasn’t willing to push for it. He really couldn’t push for it, since they had only just met recently. 

��I’m still thinking about it, I didn’t really have time to look into… work.” She replied, honestly. 

“You seemed to put up with Scott that whole car ride so, uh- offer- offer stands.” 

“I didn’t remember there being an offer to begin with.” She replied, but she couldn’t deny the way her breath hitched. “You want me to stay?” Her voice was quiet, hopeful. She wanted him to want her to stay, but him wanting her to stay could be a bad thing. It meant a lot more than she wanted to admit, but she wasn’t sure how to deny that it would make her happy if he did. 

“I… yeah, I want you to stay.” Javi didn’t seem like he wanted to say that, but not because it wasn’t true. He did want her to stay, he wasn’t sure exactly why. He liked being around her, he found her attractive, he thought she was intelligent, and she was kind enough to not hate him after finding out some of the things about him that he wasn’t even sure why he told her. But, he also barely knew her. Asking her to uproot her entire life was insane, but he wasn’t really asking. He was leaving it on the table since she said she wanted something new, wasn’t that the kind thing to do? “I just don’t want you to miss out on doing what you want to do because of money.” 

He knew that feeling well, rejecting his own wants, desires, morals - rejecting his own heart and soul for money, because that was the one thing that kept him where he was. He didn’t want that for her, he didn’t want her to feel like she was under the thumb of some corporation where she didn’t feel like she was doing anything productive, where she really didn’t want to be, just because of money. He wanted much more for her. Plus, they were in the same boat with romance. He had waited, wanted, hoped for something. But he could never give anyone the time of day. 

Back in college, he wasn’t exactly a catch. Constantly sleeping, eating hot chips first thing in the morning like it was a normal breakfast, he was incredibly lazy. As he got older, he was less lazy. He worked hard to be where he was, but because of how hard he had to work, he didn’t have time for romance. He wasn’t sure yet if he wanted to date this girl, he barely knew her. But he knew that he felt drawn to her, and he knew that- well, he didn’t know. He wasn’t confident enough to make a move, he didn’t know if there was a point in trying to pursue someone who was just going to leave. Long distance was one thing when you’re a train or car ride away, but a plane? If she stayed, maybe he would be able to gain the confidence to try. 

“I just need to think about it, but don’t think I’m brushing you off. Okay? It’s just a big decision.” Truthfully, her mind was in the same precious position. She didn’t have the confidence to make a move, but if he did make a move, she would stay. At least, she would think about it a lot harder. Maybe extend her trip to consider her options in this situation for longer than she had at present. 

“No, I get it. It’s your whole life.” 

She hummed in agreement, taking a sip of her coffee. “You should tell me more about life around here, you know, so I can consider it a little bit better.”

It was clear that she was talking more about his life than just life in Oklahoma, and he had no issue picking up on that. Nor did he have any issue telling her about his life, his interests, his hobbies, his sort of perpetual loneliness since he was constantly on the road and didn’t really have time to be tied down by friendships or relationships. She was delighted to learn more about him, and in turn shared a pretty similar story. Well, a similar story in the sense that they were both, ultimately, rather alone. The key difference being the fact that Emily was surrounded by people, where Oklahoma was pretty quiet. She was stationary and remained lonely, but he was lonely because he wasn’t stationary. A part of her brain felt like there could be middle ground there if they wanted to continue working together, but she also had a fear of his company looming in the background.

Javi had built Storm Par, it was his baby and she couldn’t blame him for being proud of it. But, she also understood that his baby needed funding, and his funding was coming from people who were manipulating it to use other people’s suffering for their gain. There was some moral inadequacy in a person who was willing to do something like that just to keep a company afloat, but she also understood why. This, also, could be a part of how he was coping with everything that he was going through with the loss of his friends. Maybe he felt like it was the right thing, or maybe he had never really coped with it and didn’t feel much at all - let alone remorse. 

Actually getting to know him made it different, though. She didn’t feel equipped to judge him for the things that he had done, even though she couldn’t help it. Even if he had some terrible skeletons in his closet, she couldn’t help but notice the difference in the way he acted when he wasn’t around Scott and his investor versus when he was. He was calmer, more normal, and just as dorky as Kate had described to her.

Truthfully, even though he had been a bit messy in the pictures that Kate did show her (which wasn’t many, since the memories were rather painful for her), she had always thought he was cute. She never really imagined that she was ever going to be face to face with him, let alone that they were going to be sitting at a diner without the company of anyone else. Talking about their lives, about their ambitions, about their hopes and dreams and their stark lack of romance and lasting friendships besides Kate, who Emily had become friends with after Javi had left the picture. She never quite realized that they would have anything in common at all, judging by what Kate had told her about him. They did have a lot in common though, that’s what made it so easy for her to talk to him even though she had a crush that she wished she had an easier time ignoring. 

By the time that they left, they left with a closer relationship. She couldn’t ignore the slight fluttering in her stomach walking alongside him, feeling the back of his hand brush against hers for just a moment before he noticed it and moved it into his pocket. His personality was easy to mesh with, and his smile made her a little bit weak at the knees. She was a lot more confident going in to this storm, knowing that she could trust Javi even though she knew that she really couldn’t trust a single one of his friends. Since she had been in a few storms at this point, she doubted that this one was going to be any different. 

At first, it wasn’t that different. They both arrived back together, her mind lingering on the momentary touches and the look in his eyes. The way he smiled, the way that it made her heart flutter like a teenager getting asked to prom. She was almost giddy, even though she knew that they were both about to do something difficult - something incredibly dangerous. Still, she reasoned, he knew what he was doing and the rest of the team did too. She didn’t feel like she was in danger at first, she didn’t think the tornado was going to be that much of a risk. It wasn’t forecasted to be that much of a risk, so she was a lot calmer than she had been the previous days. Sure, maybe that calm was coming from her eyes continuing to linger on Javi, or the fact that his eyes continued to linger on him to. Even if that was the cause, it didn’t matter, because she did feel calmer… at first. 

But Scott was pushing harder than he maybe should have been. While Emily felt secure in the back with the equipment for a few moments, she found herself gripping onto anything she could find to keep herself from flying around. It wasn’t until everyone was screaming and worried that Javi shouted at her, insisting that she get in the front seat with him. Being a whole lot more willing to sacrifice her pride and sit on his lap than get whiplash or break her neck, she quickly obliged and climbed into the front seat. 

The belt wasn’t really built for two people, but it just barely fit over them. Just like she just barely got into the front in time. Judging by how the car jerked and the heavy machinery in the backseat flew with it, she knew that she was seconds away from having her head smashed against the wall. 

Somehow, that wasn’t the worst of it. There was no escaping this tornado, not with the vehicle flipped over. Emily’s calm was gone an an instant, but she wasn’t screaming in fear. She had only been so paralyzed with fear that she couldn’t get words out one time in her life before, but this was another one of those instances. She was barely remembering to breathe, let alone speak, or scream. She was certain that her face was coated in sweat and tears, but absolutely nothing was coming out of her throat.

The only confirmation that Javi had that she was still conscious was her strong grip on his arm, her wide eyes focused ahead as she considered all of the things that she had never gotten the chance to do. She had never gone to one of those balls that she wanted to go to as a child, in a big fancy gown with someone on her arm - granted, she had never had anyone to bring. She had never gotten a promotion beyond her yearly pay raise and being raised up from a junior employee to a regular employee with little added benefit. She had never learned what it was that made Kate want to talk to her. She’d never ridden a horse, only sat on an NYPD horse when she was in elementary school and got scolded for trying to make it move. She had never gone to Europe, constantly being too busy with school or work to even consider something like that. But, she also couldn’t help her thoughts from lingering. She had never been in an adult relationship, unless her college flings constituted as ‘adult’. She had never kissed the man who was also currently, seemingly, about to die with her. She really wanted to kiss Javi - unfortunately for her. 

Somewhat fortunately, Javi knew in that moment that he also definitely wanted to kiss her too. Whether that was a cruel fate or it was going to end up being a beautiful coincidence if they made it out, neither of them knew for sure until eventually - by some miracle - they were able to escape within an inch of their lives. 

While her and Javi insisted that it was important that they go help the people in the town who were about to be dealing with this absolute monster of a storm, Scott didn’t seem too convinced. In fact, he out right stated that he didn’t care about them. Now, she knew that is Javi agreed with him, if he was okay with what he was hearing from him, he might be too far gone. Just as he seemed to be doing the thing she feared he was going to do, he turned the car on as fast as possible and drove away. She doubted that his decision had much to do with her, but she was grateful for it regardless. Grateful, because he was freeing himself from the shackles of the people who had given her any apprehensions about him in the first place.

“Is it safe for me to have my own seat?”

“If you trust my driving.” 

“You’ve steered us well so far.” 

Emily moved over to the other seat, letting him adjust his buckle and buckling herself in. She wanted to say something, because with that realization that she really wanted to kiss him and the fact that the small apprehension she had about trusting him was now gone, she just really, really could not get the idea of kissing him out of her mind. They had almost died, and by some luck, they were alive. She knew she couldn’t take that for granted, but she also knew that right now was not the right moment. There were real people in danger, and every second mattered. Asking him to pull over or drive recklessly wasn’t a good idea, and it certainly wasn’t the idea that she could make without worrying. Plus, she still had no idea if the feeling was mutual. 

Arriving in the town itself was arriving into chaos, but the amount of people who had no idea what to do told her that they had made the right call. While these people, having lived in tornado alley for presumably at least a little bit of time, had to have experienced a natural disaster before, it was clear that they have never experienced one this strong. Emily had never experienced one this strong before either, but she knew that she couldn’t think about that right now. Not when she could see Kate, struggling to get someone out from underneath a fallen water tower. It had to have been Tyler Owens, she was certain.

Rushing out of the vehicle, Javi grabbed something that he could use to give leverage to them while Emily joined Kate in trying to get Tyler out. In the knick of time, they were able to get him out from under the water tower and into the movie theater. The theater itself, though, was old. The structure of it certainly wasn’t built to outlast this storm, but that didn’t mean there was no where to go. Splitting up, she ran to find somewhere that could lead to a basement, to no avail. Meeting up with Javi and Tyler again, she found that nobody could locate a basement. Guilt filled her more than fear, because she had helped lead people to believe that this theater was a save place to be when in reality it was no safer than being outside. At least, not much safer than being outside. 

That guilt was quickly forgotten when she realized, like the others, that Kate was not with them. Kate had mentioned very little of her past, but she had explained what she had been experimenting on to Emily a long time ago. That was what made her trust her in the first place. She wasn’t in this because she wanted to, some day, be on the television reporting the weather. She wasn’t doing this because she wanted a pay raise, or even just because she found it interesting. She was doing it because she wanted to help people, but right now, that desire to help people was going to get her killed.

Emily’s heart told her to run after her, but her mind rejected it. She needed to survive, they all did. 

Rushing back in the theater, nobody was given much time before they were all gripping onto a the seats in the theater for dear life. If she had been worried about dying before, she was petrified now. This time she wasn’t paralyzed in fear, her hands were gripping the chair as tightly as she possibly could manage, her screams being absorbed into the army of screams and the loud storm looming just outside. Chairs were being taken, more and more rows of chairs that were leaving her wondering if she was next. If it wasn’t her, what about Javi? She wasn’t even sure where he had went, she had been so hasty in grabbing onto a chair that she didn’t keep track of him. Was he still alive? Was she?

Just as she felt her death-grip beginning to loosen, the wind slowed down. She couldn’t be too sure if she was safe until she felt herself able to move her elbow. Getting up, her first instinct was to look for Javi. She had nearly died enough times without kissing that man in one day, and she certainly wasn’t going to run the risk of doing it again.

After a moment, she found him. 

As it would seem, he had the same idea that she did. The moment that they reached each other his hand was on her cheek, his thumb pressed against her chin to tilt her face towards him. She gripped onto his shirt, pulling him closer as their lips melded together. They were out of breath, soaking wet, and barely even positive that they had actually survived at this point. But the kiss was grounding, it was grounding, but it was enchanting. She was nearly mesmerized by the feeling of his lips against hers, the feeling of his warm hand pressed against her wet cheek.

For just a brief moment, she allowed herself to forget about the chaos outside, slowly pulling apart from him only to let him rest his forehead against hers. She had been through a lot, and it was a lot more of a thrill than she was even remotely used to. But even with that, she knew in her heart what the right choice was.

“I don’t know if your company is still operational, but I want to stay.” 

“I want you to stay, you don’t need to worry about- don’t worry about housing. I’ve got you, I promise I’ve got you. Just- please stay.” 

She leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to his mouth. “I’m staying, I won’t leave you.”

While she wanted to stay there kissing him forever, to continue to be close to him, she couldn’t. They both needed to find Kate, and with the help of Tyler, they found her relatively quickly. She was battered and bruised, but she was alive. She was alive, and she was smiling. With a breath of relief, Emily sent her friend a thumbs up when - even in her slightly out-of-it state - she raised an eyebrow at her holding hands with Javi. Despite all of the stress, despite all of the moving parts that still existed, Emily knew that everything was going to be okay. 

When the week was over, Emily and Kate were both at the airport, but only one of them was ready to board a flight.

“You really should be paying me for packing your stuff for you.” 

“I told you my cousin could do it, Kate.” Emily reminded her, a smile covering her face regardless. “And, I’m sorry, who was the one who insisted that it would be ‘really cool’ if I dated her friend? I’m thinking that was you.” 

“Your cousin is a shit packer, I’ll do it.” She responded, glancing back toward the car. She didn’t miss the gaze that Javi had on her friend, a warm smile covering her face. “And it is really cool, you’re good for each other.”

“I know, I really like him.” She admitted, before sending her own curious glance toward Tyler. “What about you and your cowboy? Sure you don’t want to stay with him?”

“My cowboy, give me a break.”

“He’s definitely your cowboy, and he’s coming this way! See you soon.” Emily’s voice came out in a sing-songy tone, giving her friend a final hug before getting into the car with Javi. “He’s definitely her cowboy, look at him. Like a puppy watching his owner leave. Think he’s gonna work up the courage to ask her out?”

“He’s gotta.” She watched their interaction, watched the way that it almost seemed like Tyler would give in and go without her. Thankfully, though, he didn’t. A grin covered her face as she watched them, as she finally got to see her friend recover from what she had gone through. “Attaboy.”

“So… does everyone come out of storms in a relationship? I hadn’t heard of that before this week.”

“Just the really, really cool people.” He leaned forward, her smile not fading from her lips as she closed the gap and pressed her lips against his. Javi brought his hand to rest on the back of her neck, his own lips in a smile as he kissed her making the kiss feel a bit messier than the one before. She sighed into it, no longer bothering to ignore the warm and fuzzy feeling in her chest. 

Leaving New York had originally been a big risk, filled with nothing but curiosity and unresolved questions. Emily never could have imagined that it would have ended with her finally finding someone who she deeply cared about, someone who she was willing to move her entire life around for, someone who she was willing to almost die in storms with once in a while. But she did, and that’s all that really matters to her now. No moving parts, no apprehensions, the only thing she can truly bring herself to care about is the peace that she’s managed to find in situation that can be described as anything other than peaceful.

[whenmemorydies]

You love taking care of people: Fine Dining in the Time of Late Stage Capitalism

CW: this post discusses toxic and abusive workplaces and makes brief mention of institutional child abuse and intergenerational trauma. I might also talk about global systems collapse, for shits and giggles. Also this is another long one. You know the drill. Lets have a cuppa. Also this is my last minute submission to Sydcarmy Week 2024 and the theme of “you love taking care of people”. Enjoy!

I have a confession to make to The Bear fandom:

The food is my least favourite part of this show.

Its not that its not interesting. It definitely is. I'm a home cook and for the most part, I enjoy cooking (when I can do it at my leisure and not like most mothers, while balancing the mental load). I just find all the other aspects of the show much more fascinating.

In fact, I think this show about a bunch of cooks in commercial kitchens is so popular not so much because of its take up of cooking but its unflinching and loving interrogation of grief and trauma, including the kinds that get passed down through families.

The truth is, I've also never been overly excited about the world of "fine dining." I grew up in a large, Tamil family and so our meals were big, shared and not necessarily conducive to the minimalist plating preferred in exclusive, "gourmet" spaces:

Photograph is mine, delicious Jaffna Tamil spread is the handiwork of my great aunt (Kunchi Ammamma or “little maternal grandmother”), arguably the best cook in our sprawling, extended family.

As tumultous as family life could get, I often experienced meals (that, lets be real, were almost always prepared by the women in my family) with my loved ones as a happy experience. I mean we also had our share of blow ups at the kitchen table but what was always consistent was the love and care that went into the food that we were given to eat. It was woven into the rich and complex flavours that made up the curries, varais, and sambals we had on our plates (and that even now, make me salivate just thinking about). It was spread throughout the warm, coconut-y rotis and steaming rice and puttu we ate with our hands and used to mop up all that spicy, flavourful goodness.

And if there's one question I heard more than any other from older family members growing up, it was "ni sappittiya?" ("have you eaten?"). More than "how are you?" and definitely more than "I love you." As with many Global South cultures, for Tamil folks, food is used for nourishment but also as a primary means of conveying deep care. Obviously Tamil people don't have the monopoly on using food to show their affection (or even the monopoly on using food to replace actually saying the words "I love you" lmao). Food has been found to increase interpersonal closeness and can also contribute to emotional regulation. Feeding a child is one of the first means of bonding between parents and children. Food also plays a big role in the course of romantic love: as a basis for first dates and future time spent with a partner, and of course also as an aphrodisiac.

As Cesar Chavez, Mexican-American civil rights activist, labor organiser and co-founder of the National Farm Workers Association (which later became the United Farm Workers union) said,

The people who give you their food, give you their heart.

You love taking care of people

Conveying care and love through food is a theme that comes up repeatedly in The Bear. Recall 1x02 Hands and the phone conversation with Nat and Carmy:

Natalie: Chefs always say a big part of the job is taking care of people, right?

Carmen: Yeah, yeah. No I guess.

Also recall an almost identical bit of dialogue between Carmy and Sydney, under the world's most famous table that had absolutely nothing wrong with it in 2x09 Omelette:

Carmen: You love taking care of people.

Sydney: Yeah I guess.

Here's some further mirroring between Sydney and Carmy about giving people joy through food. Recall again the phone call between Carmy and Nat in 1x02 Hands:

Natalie: When did the breathing problem start?

Carmen: I think maybe sometime in New York. I was throwing up every day before work.

[...] Chef was a piece of shit.

Natalie: Then why'd you stay there?

Carmen: People loved the food. It felt good.

Also recall the conversation between Sydney and Marcus in 1x08 Braciole:

Sydney: I want to cook for people and make them happy, and give them the best bacon on Earth.

Be gentle with each other, so that you can fight stronger together: seasons 1-2 of The Bear

As rough and tumble as The Beef was, the clear throughline in season 1 (when The Beef was in operation) was the importance of the relationships and care between the show's characters. This was also the case in season 2 where the majority of the season was spent in the context of renovations and training prior to the opening of The Bear (in that season's last episode).

In season 1, we had Carmy leading the crew at The Beef by being patient, clearly explaining technique and positively reinforcing his staff's work.

Above left: Carmy walking the BOH crew through making Donna Berzatto's Lemon Chicken Piccata in 1x05 Sheridan. Above right: Carmy encouraging the crew to keep up their current pace in 1x06 Ceres.

We saw him working with Sydney, supportively encouraging the team to go further, to push themselves. We even saw Carmy at ease enough to talk about Mikey and his mother while at work. We had a Carmy showing us how integrated he can be.

Above: Carmy and Tina in 1x05 Sheridan

Heck, we even had a Carmy who wanted to get a compost installed at The Beef for processing food so that it didn't go to waste. Recall this golden bit of dialogue between him and Sweeps in 1x01 System:

Carmen: Eh yo Gary, you set up a compost for me today, Chef?

Sweeps: After I do my thing in the place.

Carmen: That's very clear. Thank you.

We had a Carmy who had time. Recall the below scene in 1x02 Hands before Sydney gives Carmy her draft business plan for The Beef (that she drafted on her own initiative and time to support his family's struggling business. If this man doesn't hurry up and fight for her in s4 istg...):

Sydney: Hey you got time?

Carmen: Always. What's up?

Similarly, we had Carmen in the first episode of season 2 making time to talk to a clearly distraught Richie:

Richie: Yo you ever think about purpose?

Carmen: I love you, but I do not have time for this, alright? *starts to walk up the stairs out of the basement*

Richie: *Nods, looks dejected, sniffs*

Carmen: I have time for this. *comes back down the stairs and sits with Richie*

Most pointedly in season 1 we had the conversation between Sydney and Carmy in 1x03 Brigade which lays the blueprint for their joint vision for the restaurant and which should have acted as a touchstone for both of them in season 3:

Sydney: You know, I think this place could be so different from all the other places we've been at. But in order for that to be true, we need to run things different.

When I said I didn't think that the brigade was a good idea, you didn't listen. And its not that you told me that I had to. [...] But you just didn't really listen and if this is going to work the way that I think we both want it to work [...] I think we should probably try to listen to each other.

Carmen: Yeah. You're right.

Sydney: The reason I'm here and not working somewhere else, or for someone else, is 'cause I think I can stand out here. I can make a difference here. We could share ideas. I could implement things that make this place better. And I don't wanna be wasting my time, working on another line or tweezing herbs on a dish that I don't care about, or running brunch, God forbid.

Carmen: *nods vigorously*

In season 2 while The Beef undergoes its facelift into The Bear, some of the show's most beautiful moments were when characters displayed their faith and trust in one another. Recall 2x01 Beef where Sydney asks Tina to be her sous chef, or 2x02 Pasta where Sydney and Carmy send Tina and Ebra to culinary school (and Tina's unwavering belief in and support for a nervous Ebra once they get there), and 2x03 Sundae and 2x04 Honeydew where we see Carmy and Sydney send Marcus to Copenhagen to stage with Chef Luca and build up his skills as a pâtissier.

So what happened at The Bear?

Season 3 of the show has been the most divisive of the series, with its preceding two seasons being almost unanimously adored by fans and critics alike. There's been a lot of debate on here and elsewhere as to why this is the case. What appears to be a dominant line of reasoning in this regard is the shift in Carmy and his approach to running The Bear as a fine dining institution.

At The Bear, we have Carmy as an Executive Chef who's berating, hostile, and blaming everyone else for his emotional state ("You guys are fucking killing me"). We have a Carmy who has taken "every second counts" to a point so minute that he has given up smoking because of the time away from the kitchen that it will cost him. We have a Carmy who has no patience for his team, almost all of whom have no experience working in fine dining before the opening night of The Bear. We see how out of sync Carmy and Sydney are ("Been off"). We have a Carmy who is reverting to patterns of behaviour that have been modelled for him by two of his abusers: his mother, Donna Berzatto and his previous boss, Chef David Fields, Executive Chef at Empire.

Perhaps second only to Donna and her stand in Claire, Chef David Fields' toxic legacy haunts season 3 of The Bear.

This is nowhere more clear than in the sheer wasting of food and money in season 3 epitomised by Carmy's insistence on changing the The Bear's menu every day (to quote Tina: "Every day, Joffrey Ballet?!") and his repeated throwing out of dishes he deemed "not perfect."

The waste did not go unnoticed by other characters on the show. Recall Natalie telling Carmy off in 3x03 Doors:

Natalie: The menu cost is out of control.

Carmen: Nat, figure it out.

Natalie: Oh. Oh. Figure it out? Wow.

Carmen: Figure it out.

Natalie: Why don't you fucking figure it out?

Carmen: I'm trying to use less shit.

Natalie: Okay, well, whatever you're doing, the R&D [research & development] of that, its fucking us.

Carmen: Well, we're using the best shit.

Natalie: Duh. Duh. Well, duh.

Carmen: Duh? Don't duh. No duh. [lmao this dialogue]

Natalie: Don't buy fucking crazy shit and then use it once, Carm. It's so wasteful. Duh! Duh, duh. Fucking duh, bro.

In episode 3x05 Children, Uncle Jimmy commissions The Computer to come in and run analytics on The Bear in an effort to get its costs under control (LOL at his assessment below, scrawled on the back of the dodgiest looking pie chart I've ever seen):

Computer: This sample is based on the month and a half we've been operating and does not take into account any funds spent previously on build, friends and family budget, other assorted fuckery.

Carmen: I mean, there hasn't been that much fuckery.

Cicero: Oh neph. You specialise in the fucking fuckery, bro.

Uncle Jimmy had plenty to say about Carmy's use of the former's funds (which Jimmy has duly invested in The Bear to support his nephew) including Carmy's decision to spend $11,268.00 on Orwellian butter (aka Dystopian Butter from the Fucking Rare Transylvanian Five-Titted Goat, lmao).

Even Carmy was under no delusions about how wasteful he was being this season. Recall his discussion with Sydney in 3x05 Children:

Sydney: You know what we should be doing?

Carmen: Produce vendor. You don't have to say it.

Sydney: Okay, I didn't say it then. I didn't say anything. Do you want me to say something?

Carmen: That I'm jamming us up 'cause we have a new menu every day and the economics aren't great?

Sydney: Well, I'm an accomplice, so...

Note: the language in this small bit of dialogue struck me as being off. Why does Sydney needs Carmy's permission to say anything? Its like she knows that he knows the constantly changing menu and exorbitant expenses are an issue but doesn't want to say anything until Carmy brings it up first. @yannaryartside has a great break down drawing the analogy between Sydney's "accomplice" confession here with Molly Ringwald's (sorry I dunno what her character's name was) confession about facilitating her partner's substance abuse, during an Al-Anon meeting in 1x03 Brigade.

We have Carmy repeating harmful patterns of behaviour at work that he has picked up from his personal life (for example, from his mother) but also from his professional experience.

The world of fine dining that both Carmy and Sydney came to The Beef from was marked, by their own admission, with "complete and utter psychopaths" who screamed, pushed and yelled at their staff (recall Sydney's disclosure to Carmy at the end of 1x05 Sheridan) or "fucking assholes" (in the case of Chef David Fields), who made their staff "very, probably mentally ill." Sadly, this aspect of The Bear is not fiction. @moodyeucalyptus pointed out in this post that both Carmy and David Fields appear to have elements of their characters based off of real life fine dining wunderkind Chef Charlie Trotter: a Chicago-based chef known to be brilliant but who mistreated his staff so badly that he had two class actions brought against him (one by FOH staff, and another by BOH staff led by James Beard Award winner Beverly Kim).

There are other stories about the grinding nature of the fine dining industry which we'll get into below. We'll also look at a few stories of chefs who are leading a renaissance away from the "toxic, hierarchical shit show" that has historically plagued fine dining and who Joanna Calo and Chris Storer may have front of mind as they take us through Carmy and Sydney's journey together in season 4 (because as tempting as Shapiro's offer is, we know Sydney isn’t leaving Carmy). But first, we need to go further back in time to look at how the fine dining industry itself has created the conditions for a chef like season 3 Carmy to exist in the first place. Lets look at the system, baby (to quote Tina in 1x01).

The Bear's culinary ancestry: Chef David Fields and the Fine Dining Industry

I should say that I did not want to go too far into history with this post. After Carmen, Natalie, and the Berzattos, I was committed to trying to write shorter meta (/snort). But I'd be remiss if I didn't talk about the origins of fine dining, and before that, the rise of Europe as the base of "haute cuisine" (which itself is directly tied to its history of colonialism and...Empire *badumbum* @freedelusionshere has made the point that The Bear writers have given Chef David's restaurant the name Empire purposefully and they're not wrong). All of this informs the current state of fine dining today.

Though France is often credited as the place where restaurants began (in the 1700s), its been established that folks were eating in communal restaurant settings all over the world, including in China about 700-600 years earlier. The origins of western fine dining (the tradition that Carmy and Sydney have trained within) however, are synonymous with French cuisine and the efforts of Georges Escoffier (who Carmy name drops in 1x03 Brigade).

The French Brigade

Escoffier was responsible for developing the French Brigade system of organising kitchen staff which is still used today in many restaurants worldwide, including at The Bear. The French Brigade was based on Escoffier's own military experience in the Franco Prussian War and was set up to identify roles in the kitchen and increase efficiency and consistency so that restaurants could scale their work to serve larger numbers of customers.

The thing with anything based on structures found in the military is that its going to replicate hierarchy (a chain of command is central to the running of military operations). In fact, much of 1x03 Brigade is spent with Sydney resisting what she identifies as the imposition of a "toxic hierarchical shitshow".

Mariya Moore-Russell, the first Black woman in the world to get a Michelin star (who also happens to be from Chicago) talks at length here about the benefits of the French Brigade for systematising commercial kitchens but also how easily it can get corrupted if the wrong people are in the kitchen. She says in those circumstances, the Brigade can quickly perpetuate, racism, sexism, perfectionism and "all of the isms." My fav quote from the video? When Russell talks about the French standardisation of cooking adopted by most kitchens in fine dining industry (at 23:39):

They were like okay, how do we take what Grandma does, what Mama does and make it you know efficient and consistent but also just extremely stressful for everybody involved? (lmao)

Note: Moore-Russell has a series of videos on YouTube about her experiences in fine dining which are very illuminating. She's also such an engaging storyteller. For example, watch "My path through the restaurant industry".

Service à la française to service à la russe

In addition to the French Brigade, another development in the history of western fine dining was the shift in styles of food service from service à la française to service à la russe. Service à la française ('service in the French style') involved serving all the dishes for a meal at once, allowing patrons to serve themselves. Think something akin to buffet style. See below for table layout using service in the French style from 1775:

Source: Wikipedia.

To me, service in the French style looks kind of similar to how my Tamil family lays out our meals (as can be seen in the first picture of this meta, minus the pheasant, moonshine and roasted woodcocks...lol). This style of service also looks a whole lot like "family style" dining which can be described as: "when food is brought to the table on large platters or serving dishes rather than being individually plated. Guests then serve themselves from the dishes which are passed around the table." In fact, service in the French style or family style dining is how many cultures serve and eat their food, both in the home and in restaurant settings (whether they use these terms to describe that layout is another matter).

I also seem to recall a couple of soulmates Jeffreys deciding to open a family-style restaurant in 1x08 Braciole (which @bootlegramdomneess has also pointed out in her post here).

In the 19th century, service in the French style became replaced in European restaurants by service à la russe ('service in the Russian style'). This style of service is what Western fine dining and haute cuisine restaurants utilise to this day. It involves bringing courses to the dining table in sequence, one after the other. Courses are portioned and plated before being brought to the diner by service staff.

In the case of Western fine dining, Escoffier shaped haute cuisine ('high cooking') through the use of his French Brigade system and the implementation of service in the Russian style. Haute cuisine has undergone shifts and changes since the 19th century including with the nouvelle cuisine movement in the 1960s which was marked by a focus on fresh produce, paired-back menus and a focus on invention. Haute cuisine of today has been described as a fusion: employing elements of nouvelle cuisine and more elaborate techniques and processes from Escoffier's system.

To my mind, service à la russe involves a lot more people (definitely more wait staff) to have it deployed effectively. When you have more people, you have more room for error (like all those dropped dishes in season 3). Family style service or service à la française allows people to serve themselves. It encourages sharing. Personally, I prefer the latter. Also can we talk about how small the portion sizes are in haute cuisine? lmao. I get it, its art. You need a gigantic plate for a small piece of hamachi because thats the canvas. Some (read: me, lmao) might also say its big ol' waste to wash a plate that size for food that takes up maybe a 1/5 of its surface area. Can we also talk about the concept of "chargers" (which the Computer rightfully rips into Carm and Sydney for in 3x05 Children) - why do you need a table setting that no one's gonna use? I'm sure there's other aspects to haute cuisine that make no fucking sense but honestly this meta is gigantic enough as it is so I'll stop there lol.

Anyway, notably it is service à la russe and food that would be described as haute cuisine that we see at The Bear. Family style is nowhere to be seen in season 3.

Colonialism, Empire and the rise of Western food cultures

A fact that is often left out of discussions about why the French and other European countries developed such globally renowned food cultures as well as their staggering wealth and status as "first world countries" (particularly in the period between the 1600s to the 19th century) was that at around the same time, these nation states were expanding their own empires by colonising other parts of the world with the express purpose of acquiring ingredients (and other resources) that they did not have access to in Europe. A brief and non-exhaustive list of examples below:

Europe's demand for flavour was so great in the 1600s that the Dutch traded Manhattan to the British in order to secure the Indonesian island of Banda Run which, at the time, was the world's only source of nutmeg. When they first arrived in the Banda Islands, the Dutch killed and enslaved much of the Bandanese population, taking control of the island's local nutmeg plantations. This violence would come to be known locally as The Banda Massacres.

It was the hunt for a direct trade route with India for black pepper that Christopher Columbus used to pitch his voyage to the King and Queen of Spain and which ultimately led him to the Americas. Columbus' arrival precipitated the colonisation of the Americas, which resulted in enslavement, disease and outright genocide, decimating First Nations populations throughout North and South America.

The colonisation of the Americas would also lead to the exporting of various foods that have come to be staples in European cooking. For example, the tomato - the key ingredient in many Italian (and Italian American) dishes - orginated in South and Central America and was brought to Europe via Spanish colonists.

The British set up their infamously brutal East India Company (EIC) to control the Indian subcontinent and the trade of various resources including precious metals, opium, textiles (silks and cotton), spices (such as cinnamon, black pepper, nutmeg, cloves, mace) and other food items (like salt, sugar, coffee and tea). The EIC would later be supplanted by the British Raj in Britain's stranglehold on India and after almost 200 years of imperialism and economic fraud, it has been estimated that the British drained India of nearly $45 trillion. I can't even begin to fathom an amount of money that large but the British could, and that theft powered much of the empire during its height.

The influence of Indian ingredients and cuisine spread throughout the British empire, including back to Britain itself. In fact, through colonisation and empire, Indian influences appear in various global cuisines (including other European cuisines as well as in the Caribbean).

Indeed the British's impact on food globally included its colonisation of Australia and New Zealand. These two colonial outposts essentially became gigantic cattle and sheep runs for the British who facilitated the wholesale theft of land - and in the case of Australia, did so without even bothering to enter into treaties with First Nations people - in order to run livestock that was then exported to feed Britain.

In order to satisfy its sweet tooth, France operated huge sugar plantations on the backs of the labour of enslaved Africans, particularly in Haiti (known at the time as Saint-Domingue). In the late 1700s, Haiti was responsible for exporting 40% of all the sugar consumed in Europe. The human cost of this was high and brutally violent. Eventually in 1803, after many armed revolts, enslaved African-descent people kicked the French out of the country after over a hundred years of heinous exploitation (thereby creating the first Black republic in the world). The French were so economically dependent on the colony for its production of coffee and sugar that when Haiti got its independence, France decided to punish the new republic for the loss of future income on Haitian exports, demanding 150 million francs in gold as compensation. The French sent warships to enforce this cruel debt. All in all, Haiti spent approximately $21 billion paying off France for the freedom that its people had already lost their lives and shed their own blood for. The debt (which involved the fledgling republic taking out exorbitant loans and fundraising amongst its citizens) was not paid off until 1947: 122 years after it was initially enforced. The French even charged Haiti interest.

Were it not for its vicious history of slavery and its century-long extortion of its former colony, I'm pretty sure France wouldn't have had the quantities of a certain key ingredient necessary to develop its worldwide reputation for pastries and desserts. I mean, you try making a crème brûlée, an eclair, a tarte tatin, a sweet galette, a mille-feuille, a madeleine, a crepe...without sugar.

This history deeply informs fine dining today. For centuries, Europe underdeveloped much of the world (borrowing Walter Rodney's turn of phrase) through colonialism and imperialist extraction. It then used those spoils and excess wealth to, among other things, develop its own food cultures and then self-proclaim itself as the cutting edge of the culinary world. To be clear, you can only faff about in a kitchen and create fancy sugar palaces and 10-course meals if you have the means and resources to do so. Haute cuisine is a product of wealth and resources, accumulated over time. Europe's colonial history also dictates which cuisines are recognised via awards like the Michelin star system. Hell, it dictates why you have the French (Michelin is a French tire company) dictating what constitutes "good" food in the first place. If you want to read more about this topic, this essay on Medium provides a good overview of the sad, racist state of affairs over at the Michelin Guide.

Where Europeans colonised and settled, this same lens was applied. This is why you have the undervaluing of Indigenous cuisine and ingredients in Australia, a situation which has only recently begun to shift. The colonisation of Australia actively involved the lying about Aboriginal foodways in Britain's attempt to falsely claim that Aboriginal peoples were nomadic hunter gatherers who did not use their land. Its why the history of how enslaved Africans brought their food cultures with them through the Door of No Return and transformed American cuisine, is not more widely known. Its why so few chefs of colour have been recognised for Michelin stars globally.

Empire and The Bear

Season 3 of The Bear pays clear homage to the impact of European empire on the world of fine dining in a few ways. The most obvious is the fact that Chef David's restaurant is literally called "Empire" lol. Another example and one of the most visually striking to me occurs in 3x01 Tomorrow. First, recall Chef David Fields' outright theft of Carmy's dish (I think we've established that you can't get more empire than the theft of food, yes?). Can we talk about how not only did Fields steal Carmy's dish but also, turned it into the most beige meal we've seen on The Bear to date, bar that single sprig of dill fighting for its life?

Carmy's penultimate plate (the final version being The Best Meal That Sydney Ever Had™):

Chef David Fields' dick measuring exercise version:

Carm was not a fan:

Can we talk about how the original plate featured the colours of the Italian flag (green, white and red) - emblematic of Carmy's cultural heritage and what is certainly one of the single biggest influences in his culinary journey (the dish also features fish, just like the main course in La Vigilia, the Feast of the Seven Fishes) - but after Fields was done with it, that shit was practically three shades of mayonnaise?

Can we talk about how Carmy's version of the dish almost certainly had a varied and dynamic flavour profile while Fields' looks just how I imagine it tasted like: whatever flavour meh is. The dish literally has no acid from what I can see (ingredients: paupiette of hamachi, fennel soubise, potato chip and dill). And I *know* a balanced dish has salt, fat, acid and heat (cos Chef Samin Nusrat told me).

Can we also talk about how Fields hates the most commonly traded of spices? The one that Columbus was looking for when he landed at what is now the Bahamas. The one that was an integral part of the East India Company's business plan rort to fuck India and South East Asia more generally?

Carmen: He hates black pepper for some reason I'll never understand. (from 3x10 Forever)

White folks in Europe were so hungry for spices to liven up their food that they invaded large swathes of the rest of the world to get the stuff. And yet, here we have Chef Fields, disliking Europe's gateway spice: the one that the Romans (Carmy's ancestors) had been trading with the East for centuries prior to Europe’s imperial frenzy, and which now makes up 20% of the world's spice trade.

Is the man so dedicated to meh that he couldn’t even bring himself to embrace pepper? Used to be one of the best chefs in the world, is right Chef Luca.

On top of dubious taste (I'm not a food critic but no one can tell me that hamachi and fennel soubise dish tasted anything other than fucked lmao. idc idc), Chef Fields is also one of the clear antagonists in The Bear. Along with Donna Berzatto, he is one of Carmy's two primary abusers. His impact on Carmy was never as clear on the show as it was in season 3. Lets take a closer look at that impact below:

Culinary ancestry and intergenerational trauma

Both Donna and David are ancestors of a kind to Carmy. Donna is clearly a biological ancestor in that she's Carmy's birth mother. I've argued here that David Fields is a culinary ancestor to Carmy. For ease of reference, I'll include my explanation of what I mean when I say "culinary ancestry", from that earlier meta, here:

Most folks understand ancestry to refer to our family or genetic lineage. When I was in university, I learned about intellectual ancestors or genealogy: where one can trace your intellectual lineage - the thinkers and creators that have shaped your understanding of the world and/or your chosen profession. I think its useful to take this concept and apply it to The Bear to help understand what the show is saying about legacy. I wouldn't limit the concept to "intellectual" ancestry though. It might be more helpful to talk about culinary ancestors in this context because the process of creating food - crafting dishes - isn't solely an intellectual exercise. It engages our intellect yes, but also each of our senses, our memories (recall that chocolate banana from 2x10 The Bear), and the need to nurture and be nurtured. Culinary Ancestors Carmy's culinary ancestors are varied given his work history. We know he's cooked under some of the best chefs in the culinary world of The Bear, including: Daniel Boulud (of Daniel), René Redzepi (of NOMA), Thomas Keller (of The French Laundry), David Field (a sociopathic Joel McHale, of Eleven Madison Park Empire), and Andrea Terry (a sublime Olivia Colman, of Ever). I'd also include here Mikey, Donna and Natalie Berzatto. I'd include cousins Richie Jeremovich and Michelle Berzatto as well. These are the home and line cooks Carm grew up with, watched in his mother's kitchen and at The Beef. He took his lessons - the good and the bad, learnt voluntarily and involuntarily - from all of these people, incorporated them into his working self and transmuted them into his food.

NOTE: In "Ancestors and The Bear" and in other meta I've written, I've incorrectly noted that Chef David Fields was the EC at Eleven Madison Park (instead of Empire). This was due to the fact that up until 3x10 Forever, we are not told the name of the restaurant that Fields and Carmy worked at together. In the draft script for the pilot, the restaurant is identified as EMP (Eleven Madison Park) by Sugar (see p 23 of that script), however this appears to have changed to "Empire" during the course of the show's development.

Through the lens of culinary ancestry, there is a clear connection between Carmy's wasteful R&D and menu choices in season 3 with the "lessons" he received under the tutelage of Chef David at Empire. For example, and as discussed above, the refusal to serve any dish that isn't viewed as "perfect" led to extreme amounts of waste at both The Bear and at Empire.

Additionally, Chef David focused on "subtraction" (recall his writing "SUBTRACT" on green tape and sticking it to the expo of Empire in 3x01 Tomorrow) and never repeating ingredients in the dishes that came out of Empire. Instinctually, these two strategies appear to me to be techniques to create needless scarcity. They're attempts at repression in and of themselves. Carmy adopts these philosophies and tries to implement them at The Bear as well. They manifest in his unilaterally overhauling the original menu at The Bear (without Syd's input) as well as his insistence that the menu change every day.

Minimalistic subtraction of elements was also a characteristic of Escoffier's approach to cooking which would be taken even further with the nouvelle cuisine movement in France. That movement focused on minimalistic dishes with fewer seasonings and sauces. Chef David Fields is clearly rooted in the French school of fine dining in this approach.

Subtraction also shows up in the show in a more dire way: in the cutting off of relationships and the whittling away of self.

I recently come across a promo still for The Bear. It features Carmy as the CDC of Empire, plating a dish. I've seen the image before but I never noticed the writing on the wall next to Carmy before. It reads:

"Its only after we've lost everything we're free to do anything"

This quote also appears in the 1999 David Fincher film, Fight Club (which itself is based on the book by the same name by Chuck Palahniuk):

Left: Carmen Berzatto, CDC at Empire in The Bear; right: Tyler Durden, general nihilistic fuckwit in Fight Club, also preaching the gospel of David [Fields].

This ethos, written on the wall and haunting the kitchen at Empire is emblematic of how Chef David operates. It reads like a fucked Psalm, giving a poetic shimmer to Field's abuse. Chef David tears down his staff, verbally degrading them to the point that he has the gall to whisper "you should be dead" to them. (OK. Can we...for a minute...imagine being a manager and that being your management style? Telling your best performing staff that they should be dead? Excuse me, mon cheri? A literal devil).

Chef David literally strips his staff of their dignity and their connections to the outside world. He makes them lose their sense of self and claims its all to make them better chefs. He tells Carmen in 3x10 Forever:

Chef David: So you got rid of all the bullshit, and you concentrated, and you got focused, and you got great. You got excellent.

The parallels between Carmy's experience at Empire - and even in the Berzatto household - and the critique of performative violent masculinity that Fight Club was trying to get across are worth pointing out. In Fight Club, white men beat each other up to try and assert control over a perceived loss of power. At Empire, Chef Fields consistently berates and degrades Carmy, clearly threatened by his CDC's talent. Similarly we have Richie complaining about having to take orders from "toddler" Carmy, saying "I was a baby too once, Syd. Nobody gave a fuck" in 1x02 (which could have been the origin story of any one of the men who joined Brad Pitt/Edward Norton to carry out "Project Mayhem" lmao. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if a lot of the dudes on Reddit fawning over Richie circa seasons 1-2 also watch Fight Club as if it was some sort of aspirational manifesto and not the satire that Fincher intended it to be).

Chef Fields is meant to be representative of a toxicity found in the restaurant industry globally. There have been numerous reports of the physical and psychological violence meted out against kitchen staff by those higher up in the brigade.

Additionally the structure of the French Brigade system is such that those at the bottom - stages - are often expected to work for free. While unpaid internships are common in various lines of work, those industries start to run into trouble when large amounts of their products and services depend on unpaid labour. In fact, darling of The Bear, René Redzepi of Noma faced criticism of his restaurant's unpaid internship program. The internship program was rife with stories of ridiculous working conditions. Redzepi finally began paying interns in 2022 but then announced that Noma would shut down regular service at the end of 2024 due to being unable to afford its staff (at one point, unpaid stages made up almost half of Noma's staff).

The fact that entry into the world of fine dining means people need to work for free as a stage automatically eliminates this as an option for folks who cannot afford to volunteer in order to gain work experience. This would disproportionately impact on certain communities, particularly communities of colour whose members may not have access to sufficient wealth that would allow them to work for free. This is clearly illustrated in The Bear where we see that Carmy has the safety nets and access in place that allow him to stage at various fine dining institutions and gain much sought after experience (e.g. his family's ownership of The Beef and his ability to work there, his cousin Michelle's restaurants in NYC and his access to those spaces). Sydney, Tina, Marcus and even Richie have very different entries into the world of restaurants and fine dining.

The issue of sexual abuse and harassment in the restaurant industry is also very subtly broached in The Bear (though it is more heavily implied in the draft script for 1x01), particularly in 1x07 The Review with Richie accusing Sydney of giving a food critic head in order to get a positive review for her risotto (season 1 Richie was genuinely the worst). But the issue is huge, with more sexual harassment claims filed in the US in the restaurant industry than any other field of work.

Even scrubbing floors by hand and cleaning with a toothbrush, while ensuring sparkling kitchens, have also historically been used as a means of punishment, particularly in institutional settings. During Australia's Royal Commission into Institutional Responses to Child Sexual Abuse, there were numerous reports of children in care homes being forced to scrub floors with toothbrushes as a means of physical punishment and control. (CW: the above link discusses accounts of institutional child sexual abuse).

Given the above, its clear to see that the industry - the system - facilitates a whole lot of shit that its workers are subjected to. So when Chef Adam Shapiro catches Sydney as she leaves the train station in 2x04 Violet and asks her how she's doing, her response is telling:

Sydney: It's been a long month [at The Bear].

Chef Adam: Ah. That bad?

Sydney: No, just-- Restaurants.

Chef Adam: Yeah. Right? Why do we do this to ourselves?

Sydney: 'Cause we're crazy.

Chef Adam: Yeah. What was this month's crazy?

Sydney: Um. The kind that's inherited.

Chef Adam: *Nods emphatically* Understood.

This Financial Times article on the dark side of restaurant culture in Copenhagen, sums things up perfectly:

“We always had this joke, an explanation for why things are so horrible: shit falls down,” [Chef Levi] Luna told [the author Imogen West-Knights], with a cold laugh. In the kitchen, the head chef gets mad at the sous-chef, who gets mad at the person below him, a chef-de-partie, who then takes it out on a stagiaire. Then one day, the sous-chef is the head chef, and he has learnt how a head chef behaves: badly. It should give a sense of the strength of feeling I encountered about how damaging this system is that several people independently described it as being like children who are abused going on to commit abuse as adults. This is the dark flipside of the restaurant-as-family metaphor.

Challenging the status quo @ The Bear

By the end of season 3, Carmy appears to recognise that subtraction in his life is not going to bring him happiness. In fact, in 1x08 Braciole, he identified subtraction - specifically, the cutting out of people from his life - as the reason his life got quiet as he grew more isolated. In 3x10 Forever, when he finally confronts Chef David, Carmy laments the psychic and physical impact of Fields' abuse as well as the isolation it engendered. Fields, psychopath that he is, remained unfazed:

Carmen: You gave me ulcers, and panic attacks, and-and nightmares. You--You know that, right? Do you-- Do you understand that?

Chef David: Yeah, I gave you confidence, and leadership, and ability. It fucking worked.

Carmen: My life stopped.

Chef David: That's the point, right?

Additionally, its worth pointing out that despite all the focus on precision, minimalism and (quite frankly) rage being put into the impeccably plated dishes of The Bear, it's the messy, juicy, multi-ingredient filled Italian beef sandwiches that remain the site's best seller. Indeed, in 3x05 Children, Nat tells Carmy that the sandwich window is the only thing at The Bear making any money. So much for subtraction.

We also see Carmy resisting a total acquiescence to Chef David's approach to running a kitchen early on in season 3. His non-negotiables read in the hindsight of the entirety of the series like his attempt at integrating the lessons he’s learned from various kitchens. It’s why the list says “no repeat ingredients” AND “vibrant collaboration”. We know that vibrant collaboration had to come from someone else’s kitchen cos Fields certainly wasn’t collaborating with anyone. That asshole was out there dictating like a fascist.

Additionally, while Carmy has realised the dangers of the fine dining industry by the end of season 3 (and not for the first time - recall in 2x01 The Beef when he called the Michelin star system "a trap"), and while Sydney grapples with her role as an "accomplice" to Carmy's season 3 bullshit, their protégés Tina and Marcus continue to keep the flame of genuine care, collaboration and inspiration alive. This is most clearly seen during the conversation Tina and Marcus have in 3x09 Apologies where they discuss Marcus' mother and his memories of her as well as brainstorm ideas for Tina's cauliflower, brussel sprouts and horseradish dish (please for the love of gad, give us more Tina, Marcus and Ebra next season).

Challenging the status quo in the real world

There are also actual chefs in the real world who appear to be doing something different with their work: embracing their own food cultures that have historically been locked out of the world of fine dining and also trying to run their kitchens in more egalitarian ways.

Above clockwise from top left: Chefs Tim Flores and Genie Kwon of Kasama, Chef Adejoké Bakare of Chishuru, Chef Asma Khan of Darjeeling Express and Chef Mariya Moore-Russell formerly of Kumiko and Kikkō.

The first, most obvious example of this for The Bear fans is Kasama, (shout out to @currymanganese and @thoughtfulchaos773 for introducing me to the above linked, short doco) the Filipino American restaurant founded and run by Chefs Tim Flores and Genie Kwon (who also happen to be married) in Chicago. Kasama is also where Carmy and Syd were meant to have their palate cleansing "reset" in 2x03 Sundae and where Sydney may have also been hit on by fellow Coach K fan, Kasama bae (shout out to @sydcarmyfan for verbalising what I squee-ed about on first watch of this episode lmao).

Both Flores and Kwon come from fine dining backgrounds but appear to challenge some of that industry's basic tenets, including the messianic role of the EC as top of Escoffier's brigade food chain. Flores openly states that his cooking is an ode to his Filipino mother who regularly taste tests his food. In the Nick Cavalier doco linked above, Flores states "if [his mother Lolly Flores] eats [the food] and there's no reference to her dish at all, I'm not doing the right thing." Flores and Kwon also operate Kasama using a hybrid model (that I think would send regimental Escoffier into a tailspin) where they offer fast and casual service featuring Kwon's baked goods during the day and offer a Filipino tasting menu led by Flores for dinner service only. Kasama was awarded a Michelin star in 2023, the first Filipino restaurant in the world to achieve that title. It also took home a James Beard Award that same year.

Note: if you haven't already, have a read of this interview of Tim Flores and Genie Kwon conducted by the Michelin Guide. ISTG Storer and Calo have read this and lifted whole paragraphs for The Bear's script. An excerpt that stood out to me, in particular:

The two first met at Bib Gourmand restaurant GT Fish & Oyster, also in Chicago. "He was leaving as I was starting. So we didn't overlap for very long. But I actually went to eat at the restaurant that he was working at afterwards, and I had one of the best experiences of my life at a tasting menu. And after that we started talking and hanging out, and eventually started dating," recalls Kwon about how she and Flores first met.

Sounds a lot like a couple of Jeffs we know, yes?

Also check out Chef Adejoké Bakare, who in 2024, became only the second Black woman to get a Michelin star in the world (the first being Chicagoan Mariya Moore-Russell who announced in 2020 that she was taking a break from her career for her mental and physical wellbeing and who also...is married to a chef lol). Bakare's restaurant, Chishuru in London, specialises in West African cuisine rooted in Bakare's Yoruba, Igbo and Hausa cultures. Bakare, like Genie Kwon, has a background in biological sciences. She also began her career as a home cook, then ran a fish and chip cart while studying at university in Nigeria. Once she moved to the UK, she ran a supper club and later won the opportunity to run a short term pop up restaurant. During the ceremony where she got her Michelin star, Bakare noted "[i]t did feel rather odd at last night's ceremony that 90% of the room was white middle-aged men. But the passion I see among young women in the industry is such that I'm confident things will change."

Take also Chef Asma Khan, who got her start in the industry as a home cook and then began running supper clubs out of her house in the UK. She then opened up the Darjeeling Express with a group of South Asian women she had met when they were all fairly recent arrivals in the UK, none of whom had formal culinary training. To this day, her kitchen remains fully staffed and run by women.

In this TEDx Talk about her work, Khan says:

"I wanted to cook but I actually wanted to feed people. This gave me the greatest pleasure. I felt at my most powerful when I was able to serve someone something I had cooked. In some ways it was my way of showing affection and love, and being able to give them something that took them home."

Sounds familiar yes? Like a couple of Jeffreys in season 1 of a certain show?

About the systemic sexism in the industry, Khan says:

"But at that time, in England, anywhere in the West, everywhere you looked it was male chefs you saw that was on television [...] in the media. It was always about men who were cooking kitchens. The greatest irony of it all is that [...] in every South Asian home you go to, you will invariably find a woman [cooking] but in every South Asian restaurant you go to, not just in India but in Pakistan, Bangladesh, Sri Lanka, almost everywhere in the world, you will usually find a man cooking in the kitchen. And it was a desire for me that I wanted to cook but there was no road or route in front of me."

Khan elaborates further on the skewed and gendered manner in which elite fine dining operates, in this article:

“There is no public hanging [in her restaurant]. Male chefs have made cooking into a combat sport. I think it’s a reaction to the idea that cooking is feminine: I’m not the dinner lady! I’m not your grandmother! Sorry, but if you’re constantly screaming at staff it means you’ve trained them badly.”

Khan is describing the hyper-competitive nature of fine dining (and her suspicion that in a highly gendered industry that is populated by majority men, that there is a need to perform a hypermasculinity in order to put distance between themselves and the historically feminine-gendered roots of the act of cooking) and how Khan wanted no part of it, for herself, her staff or her patrons. In this Guardian article, Khan points her attention directly at the toxic work cultures of many fine dining institutions:

Khan sees herself as a vital heckler on the sidelines of the industry, rather than part of its elite club of star chefs. She is especially scathing of a macho restaurant culture that has allowed workplace bullying and abuse to become normalised – and of those who enable it.

“My deep concern during the pandemic is seeing very prominent people with considerable wealth remove the entire workforce without a safety net.” A surge of restaurant and pub workers were reported to be sleeping rough in central London in April, a fact Khan can’t shake. “It is so shameful, my heart bleeds for the industry, it is immoral. I don’t want restaurants to be ranked by Michelin stars for the fluff and edible herbs they put on a plate. I want to know how they treat their people, they should be ranked on that. Where there is bullying and racism, where there is sexual harassment, where staff don’t feel safe, people should boycott those restaurants. I don’t want to see them prosper.”

Honestly, after reading some of the horror stories about work place practices in the restaurant industry, I'm with Khan. I'm also with Flores, Kwon, Bakare and Moore-Russell. I reckon Storer and Calo are also with these folks too and that we're going to see a shift in season 4 of The Bear that reflects the larger industrial change in the world of fine dining that chefs like these are heralding.

The death of fine dining

Above: Carmy's phone in 3x05 Children

Like @freedelusionshere says here, I don't think its a suprise that season 3 ended with Ever's funeral. The fine dining of Empire and even Ever is dead. How can it not be given the way its been largely running to date, as discussed above? How can it not be when we are living in a time of severe food insecurity precipitated by runaway consumerism and the twin existential threats of global climate and extinction crises. How can anyone in good conscience justify charging exorbitant amounts of money on a plate that is not going to fill patron's bellies while there are communities worldwide who do not have enough food to feed their children? When some communities, even in so-called "first world" countries like America and Australia cannot access clean drinking water?

Truly, the argument for fine dining posited by Will Guidara in 3x10 Forever made me (and I'm sure many others) actually cringe.

There's nobility in this. [...] We can give them the grace, if only for a few hours, to forget about their most difficult moments. Like, we can make the world a nicer place. All of us in this room. We have this opportunity, perhaps even a responsibility, to create our own little magical worlds in a world that is increasingly in need of a little more magic.

There *is* nobility in nurturing people, in feeding them. But in a time of the multiple and rolling, global existential crises, where particular communities are being targeted not just for marginalisation but whole scale eradication, this is not a time for more "magic"; particularly when those "little magical worlds" are reserved for the select few who can afford them. We don't need more holes to bury our heads in. We need real spaces of care that are accessible, kind (read: not nice, but kind. there is a big difference) and nurturing. And those spaces need to be those things not just for the patrons who visit them but also for the staff who work there.

There is also literally no time for escapism, at least not of the kind that late stage capitalism promotes and as described by Guidara in 3x10. We are living at a time where food systems are said to make up one third of all greenhouse gas emissions, pushing the climate crisis further to the point of no return. What's the point of making magic worlds to escape an actual world on the brink? And while your magic-making contributes to the brink getting closer? Its like putting lipstick on a pig.

Indeed some have posited that it was the British Empire's remaking of the world to feed Britain (which we've looked at briefly above) that has been the single biggest contributor to the current environmental crises facing our planet. The Bear acknowledges the issue as well. Recall 2x04 Violet when Tina visits Jerry at the farmers' market and his explanation for why he has so little produce to sell:

Jerry: There's fewer and fewer moths to grow vegetables now, and 'cause of that, there's fewer and fewer farms. Used to be you could come down here, buy everything you needed for a full menu. All in one spot. Whatever grows together, goes together.

The reason there are fewer months to grow vegetables is because of climate change which has impacted on everything to season length, groundwater and rainfall levels (as the two main sources for global farming irrigation) and increased periods of drought and heatwave.

So whats next for The Bear?

Season 3 put us through the ringer with Carmy replicating toxic practices in his restaurant that are rife in the industry at large. Yes, Carmy also has mental health issues and is a survivor of multiple sources of trauma. We know this. I've talked about this at length here and here. But he's also a guy who's running his own business with folks who are dependent on their place of work for their livelihoods. As such, he, Nat and Uncle Jimmy (as co-owners of The Bear) have responsibilities to their staff.

As EC at The Bear who is directly responsible for managing BOH, Carmy has a choice to make about whether he "blows his trauma through" (shout out to Dr Resmaa Menakem and his book My Grandmother's Hands) the bodies of those closest to him, including the crew at The Bear. Just as parents have to work on themselves so that they don't replicate harmful patterns of behaviour in raising their children, so too do we all in our daily relationships, including where many of us adults spend most of our waking lives: at work.

Like Richie observed, Carmy is not integrated in season 3 but neither is the industry in which he's working. A menu that constantly changes, wasteful food practices, a food production and agricultural industry that contributes to a third of global greenhouse gas emissions leading to increased global warming. These things are absolutely not integrated. In many ways, Carmy's mental state in season 3 - anxious, agitated, exhausted, is a reflection of the times. Given all of the above, Carmy's "I'm so fucking sick of this" in 3x09 Apologies hits me harder in the chest. Yes Carmy, you should be. Now go do something about it.

Having looked at the career trajectories of a few talented, conscientious chefs in the course of writing this meta, I think its pretty clear that the old way of running restaurants a la Chef David Fields is over. As we sit at the precipice of climate disaster, watching multiple genocides unfolding at once, during a time of massive food insecurity, who the hell has time to be suffering in the way Chef David made his employees feel in the course of making food that is meant to nourish people? What fucking cognitive dissonance is required to continue on THAT kind of a path?

Come season 4, I reckon we are going to see a massive shift in the trajectory of The Bear. This will be precipitated by multiple things (like the review Carmy got at the end of 3x10 and whatever the fuck Uncle Jimmy is up to with that box and those golf clubs lol) but most significantly, by a realisation on Carmy's part that his version of Michelin mode IS NOT IT.

I reckon Carmy and Sydney are going to continue to work together but they'll go back to the original plan they made with one another in 1x08 Braciole. They're going to go back to family style. They're going to treat their staff better (after Carmy apologises lol). They're going to shift from wasteful, haute cuisine to sustainable food practices that support producers and the planet more broadly. They're going to leave Chef David Fields' scare tactic of subtraction behind and lean into using more pepper.

Above: Sydney's notebook as she workshops a recipe at home in 1x08 Braciole.

Tagging: @moodyeucalyptus @currymanganese @hwere @freedelusionshere @thoughtfulchaos773 @ambeauty @brokenwinebox @devisrina @espumado @fresaton @kdbleu @vacationship @birdiebats @bootlegramdomneess @mitocamdria @tvfantic87 @angelica4equity @anxietycroissant @turbulenthandholding @yannaryartside @afrofairysblog @ciaomarie

cos you may be interested but as always, I'd love to chat to whoever wants to about this stuff!

[cameronspecial]

OMGGG, I woke up today and thought of smth. It's gonna take forever to make if you do make this, but..

Drew starkey and Y/N, they meet at a fancy restaurant like this GIF

And Y/N thinks he's cute and she's like there waiter or smth and Drew is out for dinner w the cast to celebrate season 4 starting and she's just like really smiley or smth, anywaysss. They get eachothers numbers and talk a bit later that night and she finds out he's a Actor and he played in OBX and what not so she starts watching it and they eventually get tg after more talking. IDK, I WANT IT TO BE LONG LOWKEY, OR CHAPTERS OF THEM MEETING AND TALKING, HE FINDS OUT SOME HOW THAT SHE STARTED WATCHING OBX OR A MOVIE HE PLAYED IN AND SHES ALL BLUSHING AND EMBARRASSED, IDK ITS SM TO ASK- PLSSSS PLSSSS PLSSSSSSSSS PLEASEEEEE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE😭🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

-Autumn

That's Him?!

Pairing: Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.8K

Masterlist

Y/N has been texting Drew all day. She shouldn’t have slipped him her number last night, but he was too good of the match not to take the chance to get to know him better. The table he had sat at was big, filled with, who she assumed were, his co-workers. They were all polite and respectful, helping make her job easy by being patient and stacking their plates when they were done, yet he stood out to her even in the sea of faces. He was attractive, no doubt, and always caught her attention with the most charming smile. He would joke and try to make polite conversation as she served his table. So once the time for them to close their cheque came, she took the opportunity to write her number down on his receipt. It turns out, the feeling is mutual. 

I swear I didn’t know that Nair was a hair removal product. Logan didn’t believe me though. She giggles at his recounting of when he accidentally caused his brother to go bald, not noticing her sister’s arrival in the living room. 

The shift in the couch beside her causes Y/N to turn her sister. “Are you still texting that guy from last night?” Via inquires. Y/N bites her bottom lip to hide her smile, “Yeah. He’s really sweet.” “Well, hopefully, this turns into something more because you need to get laid. Anyways, I’m going to watch my show down here.” The older sister doesn’t say anything as her sibling picks up the remote and switches it to Netflix. 

Y/N continues her conversation with Drew, letting the show on the TV drown out in the background until a familiar voice sounds throughout the room. Her eyes flick up to the large screen and back down to her phone. She recognizes the buzz head and can’t believe his presence. She also doesn’t know why she never thought about asking him where he works. “That’s him?!” she yells, pointing at the screen. Via looks at her sister like she has grown two heads, “What are you talking about?”

“That’s Drew. That’s who I met yesterday and have been talking to.”

“Hold on, you are telling me that the Drew you have been talking to is Drew Starkey.”

“I guess.”

Via pauses the show and pulls out her phone. Her sister waits patiently as her sister types something in. The phone is turned in her direction and she looks at the various pictures of her new friend on the screen. “Yeah, that’s definitely him.”

———

After a few weeks of texting, Y/N and Drew finally set a date on their calendar. His hand rests on her lower back, leading her while the hostess shows them to their table. She sits across from him with a massive grin. His hand rests in the middle of the table and she reaches out to place her hand on his, almost knocking down her empty wine glass if it isn’t for his quick reflex. “I’m sorry,” she apologizes. “I guess I’m still feeling a little Kooky.” Her eyes glance towards his face to see if he reacts to her teasing. His face remains stoic as he tries to figure out if she used the word for the reason he thinks she did. She recognizes his attempt and pushes it even more by going over the menu. 

“I wonder if they have any fish. I’m in the mood for menhaden or as it is otherwise known as pogue.” 

Certain that the jig is now up, he sets his menu down to give her his full attention. “So you know?” he confirms. She nods, “Yes, I found out a few weeks ago when my sister was watching the show in the living room. How come you didn’t tell me?” He sighs, playing with the hoop in his ear. “I didn’t want you to treat me differently. Or for you to be scared of entering a relationship with me because I travel a lot for work and sometimes get followed by a crowd of fans.”

 She gives his hand a soft squeeze. “I understand why you would fear those things, but I promise you don’t have anything to worry about. You are still plain old Drew to me and I have a thick skin from being a waitress, I think I can handle a few teenage girls.” 

He gives her a thankful smile and holds his hand up to her, “Why don’t we start over? I’m Drew Starkey. I act for a living and I think you are the most beautiful girl I have seen. I would love it if you would go on a date with me. She giggles and takes his hand. “Nice to meet you, Drew. I’m Y/N. I wait tables and I would love to go on a date with you.” 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld