#im so scared im gonna cry about this at work tomorrow | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

unriding · 2 months ago

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very messy word dump below the cut + in tags :^) heh

okay it’s officially been a full day since reading this and i’m going to write down everything i remember feeling from day 1! and then in the tags im going to reread this (for the third time within 24 hours) and add thoughts that i didn’t put down here. SORRY FOR THE MESS & NO PRESSURE TO READ ALL THIS SJKDMF IT IS JUST A LOT OF WORD VOMIT BC IM INSANE OVER THIS FIC

okay i should start from the beginning. Wait I’ll use caps so it’s easier to read if you’re reading it bahahhaa OKAY. The way you write alpha / omega!!! It’s different from what I’m used to reading— and I mean it has a lot of a depth. The way you wrote reader being an alpha = being so protective over Aventurine fucked me up so bad /pos. Reader just wants him safe and they’re so real for that.

Going off on that, I LOVE HOW U WROTE THE READER. Understands Aventurine so well. Will literally do anything to keep him safe. Understands what sets him off and what he’s comfortable with. The part where Aventurine was talking about the next mission & reader seeing right through him ): are you serious /pos. WAIT I SKIPPED TOO FAR AHEAD. When Aventurine was trying to get reader to join the IPC? Dead. Evie DEAD. Reader saw right through him omg. Being able to notice the little changes in his scent, the way he tries to mask it etc etc. I love that so bad.

WHEN READER FOUND HIM IN HEAT FUUUCK. ARE YOU SERIOUS /pos. Fighting the urge to help him vs waiting to just make it better because reader has the power to ): I loved that so much. The struggle was so real. Literally bringing a doctor just to hear that he needs an alpha to help anyways omg. Lowkey when the doctor said that I was like PLEASE LET US HELP YOU PLEASEEEEEEE. But also. I didn’t want him to be scared either you know ):

I skipped over another scene sighs. THE part where reader said ‘I like your eyes because they’re yours” and then the end. Him saying he likes our scent because it’s ours. Are you serious /pos. Be so serious /pos.

Okay the scent gland scenes actually fucked me up so bad (I unfortunately did not dream about anything but maybe that is for the best because I’m still recovering from this scene). The part where he asks for just the wrist. Reader struggling when they FEEL HIS TEETH GRAZE THE WRIST IM GONNA EXPLODE OMFG. The immediate pulling away because we don’t want to scare him please. + the scent gland scene at the end. HE DIDN’T FEEL LIKE HE HAD TO BE ON TOP. We could lay side by side ): I was so happy that he was okay with that omg. Literally all giddy like aaaaa!!!!!! IM NOT A THREAT!! Actually that’s a lie I wasn’t giddy. I was literally in tears jejdkckckckk Aventurine ��😭 ughhhhhhh /pos

I won’t comment on the actual scene (I am commenting on it right now actually) because I was literally so sad and my heart hurt so badly for him. I wanted him to see himself from our POV for just one moment so he can understand that we genuinely love him and treasure him & want to keep him safe. ):

ABOUT YOUR WRITING ITSELF : insanity. I will just say insanity. How should I put it in words….. just thinking about this fic again is taking all the words out of my mouth shejdjfjj (I say this as I type a 27738 page essay about it). I love how you write. I really do. Your writing style is so beautiful. I haven’t read the other tags under your fic but I’m sure many others have said the same thing!!! They word it better than me I’m sure bsjsjsjsjsk

I just love everything about it. How you add in little details (oh! Speaking of details— Aventurine’s reaction to reader cozying up to her husband in the other fic) HEJDJJDJDJ omg. But in this fic, the little signs of him being scared. Scared 24/7 actually ): I love how you conveyed his fear so much. And the way he tries so hard to hide it. HIM CRUMBLING DOWN TO HIS RAW SELF WHEN HES IN HEAT. AND THE FEAR THERE TOO. INSANE.

^^ How you wrote him so adamant about not needing help at first …. To him asking for the scent gland ….. to him agreeing to use reader. It was all so real. He didn’t just change his mind like oh okay! It took him a while to be okay with it and I love how real it all felt. You write dialogue & little details so well— it actually drives me nuts (/compliment /pos)

Oh this just reminded me. Your description of how Aventurine smells killed me /pos. And how you describe his scent as sweet. I’m really not okay /pos. It fits him so well. And … for reader…. the scent after rain ? Oh my god ???? I love that smell so much. It’s so comforting…. OMG. COMFORTING????????? BECAUSE. Oh wow. I’m really not okay now. I JUST LOVE ALL THE DETAILS LIKE THAT )))): it’s so clear you put so much thought into all these things because your fic has so much depth. I lowkey yanked out Notibility for your other Aventurine fic to highlight the parts I wanted to comment on ehdjdkkck I was annotating it like a book (I’m so sorry if this is creepy I promise I don’t do this on a regular basis. I don’t annotate fics normally. Actually please disregard this because I’m a bit red admitting this) (I just have the memory of a goldfish and can only remember feelings and not actual content) (That’s a lie because here I am remembering a lot of this fic MOST LIKELY BECAUSE I READ IT WITH MY EYES AN INCH FROM THE SCREEN PROBABLY I WAS LIKE O_O) /pos

NIGHT FLOWER: part i

Your place in the world was one of a tool. This was true of every slave: you were all things to be used. Kakavasha understood this about you, and he understood this about himself. It was how he survived all those years ago, and it’s how he survives now. And so, when Aventurine goes into his first heat in years and decides to suffer it alone, you can only think of one way to get him to accept your help: You offer to let him use you.

written for @/lorelune's spring fever collab & @ficsforgaza

13.5k words of omegaverse, mutual pining, hurt/comfort, angst with an eventual happy ending. gn alpha reader + omega aventurine (they each have both amab and afab genitalia). explicit piv sex, reader bottoms, the sex is consensual but emotionally complicated and deeply sad. cw slavery, racism, gendered violence, including very brief and non-graphic (but direct) references to sexual abuse during slavery. the sa and slavery are not eroticized. dead dove do not eat, mdni.

thank you to @acerathia, @minnaci, @owlespresso for all your help with beta reading and to @kosmiccarma for brainstorming omega aventurine hcs!

“I’ve alw███ l█ved ███, Ka██v█s███”

You knew it from the moment you met him.

Gaunt, pallid, weighed down by heavy chains. Irises that glowed like the auroras back in your world. Delicate features that made every passerby in the market stop to read the description on the placard. (Sigonian, it said, although you couldn’t read at the time. Avgin. Male. Omega. Sixteen years old. Sixty Tanba, no tax.) He had an all-consuming scent that was impossible to ignore—one that possessed you, made your heels dig into the dirt, every atom in your body resisting the impatient jerk of the chains at your wrist. Even through your muzzle, through the perpetual stench of carbon-steel and blood, you could smell it: honey and wildflowers. A fragrance that settled deep within you, flooded you with a warmth that felt like home.

Aventurine is not a spiritual person. He once told you this, his smile cold in the glow of an artificial moon. He'd been deeply religious as a child, but hasn’t since cared for fairy tales about fortune and fate, three-eyed goddesses or merciful rainfalls. Hasn't thought about anything like a destined love. He thinks the idea of a true mate is laughable, that no such bond could ever be forged between an omega and an alpha. That nothing so unconditional could ever exist.

You know differently, of course. You've known it from the moment you met him, from the second you laid eyes on him and thought, I need to help you, and I need to protect you, and I need you to be safe, and you’d never once heard the word ‘love’ in your life—slaves are never loved by their masters, after all, and you'd always been nothing but a slave—but every atom of your being knew that you loved him, that you'd always love him.

And when your master cradled your face that night and crooned that he owned you, that you'd always be his obedient, alpha pet—for the first time in your life, you knew that he was wrong.

You didn't belong to your slaver.

You belonged to him.

To Kakavasha.

These days, Aventurine does not smell like honey, and your jaw is not restrained.

Your muzzle was one of the first things that Aventurine threw away when he bought your freedom. According to the Amber Era system, it had been several months since the murder of your shared master. Ninety-five Star Calendar days after the Interastral Peace Corps had arrested Kakavasha. An entire rotation around the black hole at the centre of your wretched galaxy, all of which had been spent in the captivity of some new mistress. She picked you out because she liked your calming scent and the look of your face, but mostly she used you for the fighting pits just like your old master.

Aventurine had been sitting in the audience of your final match, then bought you out right after you won. “I’m in need of a fighter,” he’d said, smiling in his thick furs and jewels. He played the part of a slavemaster perfectly, his gloved hands wandering the span of your aching shoulders, touching the bloodied maw of your mask. “And I’d be willing to pay top credit for yours.”

She protested. You were her most prized possession, one of her greatest investments. Slaves from your planet were hard enough to come by—alphas capable of reproduction, nearly impossible. And you were so well-behaved, so poised, so endearing in a way that was rare for alphas. She was fond of you. Her omega slaves were fond of you too. They would be distraught if you left, and that would complicate her household affairs—and surely Aventurine, as a respectable owner of human capital like herself, could understand how inconvenient that would be?

Aventurine bared his teeth in a gracious smile. (You’d never seen Kakavasha make such an expression before—so disarming, so cunning, a crescent moon beneath snake eyes. He’d never smelt like this either, like an expensive cologne layered with bleach, and it left you feeling nauseous, wondering if he was ill.) He flirted his way into her good graces, made her an offer she couldn’t refuse, and then he brought you into the first-class ship on which he’d arrived. You were so stunned by its luxury—the handwoven carpets, the crushed velvet seats, the imported tea from several galaxies away and the custom-ordered outfit he had bought for you—that you nearly missed the tremble in his hands as he punched numbers into the remote control lock for your chains.

He had regained his composure by the time he pulled away your muzzle, though. He threw it carelessly to the ground—your titanium chains, too. Then kicked both away with his shined leather shoes.

“There,” Aventurine said, smiling cheerfully. “Much better, don’t you think?”

“Vasha—” you started, voice thick with wasted grief, and all you wanted to was reach for him, to double check that he was real, but he placed a finger to your lips and stopped you. You stiffened at the satin touch, but he seemed unbothered.

“‘Aventurine’,” he corrected.

You stared blankly. “What?”

“‘Aventurine’. Like the gemstone. That’s my name now.”

“You—” Your voice caught in your throat. You realized that you’d been holding your breath. You always had the habit of holding your breath in the luxurious, private rooms of very rich men, because you never liked what happened in them. Forcing yourself to breathe, you asked, “You gave yourself a new name?”

“No. The IPC gave me a new name. They gave me a job, too.”

“A job?” you asked, voice faint. Now that you were breathing again, you were noticing once more just how bizarre he smelled. Sterile and expensive and completely foreign. “You’re free now?”

“Well, I’m a freedman, but I don’t know if I’d call myself free. I’m a bit… indebted to the IPC, let’s say. But that’s fine. I can’t complain. I mean—look around. This beats the fighting pits, doesn’t it?” He gestured lazily at your surroundings, and you nodded.

“It’s nice here,” you replied, feeling absurd but not knowing what else to say. Once Kakavasha got talking, it was impossible to get a word in edgewise.

“You like it here? Good. This room’s yours. Mine is the next one over. You’ll live and work here, with me. I’ll make sure you’re paid well. Full benefits, vacation, salary, and overtime. The standard pay for your role is seventy-thousand credits per month, but I’ll see if I can get you more. HR is pretty strict about their hiring policies, but—”

“You’re hiring me?”

Aventurine went very still, his smile tightly controlled. His eyes remained fixed on you, but they seemed less snake-like, now. They looked more familiar. More afraid.

“I’m offering, yes,” he said neatly. “You’ll be part of my personal security detail. I don’t have the contract for you to review yet, unfortunately. I didn’t arrange one ahead of time because, well”—he laughed, as if this were polite conversation and he were making a joke about the weather—“I didn’t know if I’d find you alive. But things worked out in my favour. They always work out in my favour. I’ll make sure they’ll work out in your favour too, so long as you’re with me. So you’ll consider it, won’t you? Staying with—working for me, I mean.”

Your eyes went soft. Beneath the artificial fragrance, you finally caught a hint of his familiar scent—more wildflower than honey at that moment, the way it always is when he’s scared.

“Kakavasha—”

“Name your price,” he said loudly, “and I’ll match it.”

You sighed. “Vasha,” you said more gently, and his shoulders relaxed at the subvocal shift in your timbre, at the famed alpha Voice that necessitated your muzzle, “I don’t care about the money. Of course I’ll stay here. But—what happened? Why did you kill him yourself? Why didn't you let me do it? That was the plan. It was always supposed to be me.”

It was my job, you thought then, just as you had thought to yourself every night, curled up in your bed and trying to recall the scent of fresh honey, to keep you safe.

He shrugged and said, “It would have been too risky to involve you.”

“You were caught and sentenced to death. The risk was already too high.”

“But the stakes weren’t,” he replied simply, and before you could ask what he meant by that, he continued, “and it worked out, didn’t it? I work for the IPC. You work for me. We’re freedmen now. Whatever I've lost, it doesn't matter. Our gains far outweigh it.”

“And what have you lost, Vasha?”

He smiled at you, charming and distracting. A crescent moon beneath snake eyes. “Nothing of value,” he reassured you, and even though you could feel the calm of an omega’s voice washing over you, even though it released all the tension in your body, all you could smell was cologne and wildflowers, and you knew that he was lying.

Vasha once told you, curled up and quiet on the basement floor, that he despised his eyes. They were supposed to be a sign of blessing from Gaiathra Triclops, but they'd never brought him anything but trouble. They were the first thing that the slavers always noticed about him, the feature that made him such an alluring commodity. Their aurora glow, their strange beauty, their promise of a rare opportunity: a chance at owning a specimen of an exotic, endangered species, possibly the last of its kind. These are all things that you've heard in the parlour of your master’s house as he entertained rich company, the crowd of them gawking at his human curios.

Avgin are said to make the most beautiful slaves, he'd often say. And Avgin omegas are said to be the most beautiful among them. What do you all think? They'd all hum, peering closely at Kakavasha’s features, and inevitably someone would joke, I think I'd like to borrow him sometime, and then they would all laugh while your pulse ticked up and you imagined tearing at their throats. Vasha would search for your gaze in these moments, giving you a long, pointed look: Don't do anything stupid.

He’d always been so blasé about it, the way people fixated on his Avgin blood. You'll never understand how. He didn't react to any of the comments, the groping, the innuendos. He was, however, distinctly unimpressed at the way that your master liked to play him up as a rare and expensive acquisition, as a sign of his own status. It's embarrassing to watch, Kakavasha had remarked. Everyone knows that Sigonian slaves are uncommon but cheap—people always think we’ll bring them more trouble than our worth. This was how Kakavasha had ended up in the market in the first place: because his last master had been robbed, and he'd been wrongly blamed for it.

The blame, to this day, has never stopped. People—powerful people, politicians, businessmen, socialites—look at Aventurine’s eyes and immediately reach for their pockets. You've seen it for yourself, these spineless despots and scammers feeling for their wallets. Sigonian, you know they're thinking. Liar, cheat, thief, whore, worthless, worthless, worthless. Your hands tighten around your blade each time, a loaded gun with a finger on the trigger.

Alphas are said to be violent by nature. Aventurine has often called you the one exception to this rule: the most docile, good-hearted alpha he's ever met. But this is a lie. You do have a predator instinct, and it comes out in full-force whenever you’re around these particular types of men. These types who notice Aventurine’s eyes and see a thief; these monsters who see his irises and imagine what it would be like to bed him. You’d kill them if you could. It would be so easy, especially now that you are an IPC dog. The Company is already such a violent force; what would be one more murder?

But Aventurine has never ordered you to punish anyone. (Don't do anything stupid, he always tells you with a glance, smiling through every humiliation.) Nor has he ever seemed bothered enough by these meetings to try concealing his heritage.

A fellow Asset Liquidation Specialist once asked why he didn't just hide his eye colour—it would likely be better for fostering relationships, negotiating deals—but Aventurine had shrugged it off. I'm a gambler working with the IPC, he'd said. Do you really think a pair of coloured contacts would make anyone trust me? He'd laughed, and his voice had carried a threatening edge, and his coworker had shifted visibly at it. Being an Avgin is the least threatening thing about me, wouldn't you say?

You think that Aventurine likes being seen as a threat. Sometimes you wonder if this is why he doesn't mind wearing his eyes so much, but abhors keeping his scent. He washes his clothes until they're free of his disarming sweetness and then masks himself with an unsettling blend of ambergris, jasmine, and wood. And he is on suppressants all the time—hasn’t had a single heat since the day he killed his master. Hasn't smelled like himself, either.

At the end of the day, it’s manageable being an Avgin in this business, he often comments, spraying half a bottle of masking cologne on himself, but you can't be an Avgin and an omega. Wouldn’t you agree?

You'd know better than me, you reply, noncommittally—and truthfully.

But you're an alpha, he observes. Don't you have an opinion?

You don't pay me to have opinions, you always remind him, stone-faced. You pay me to stand here and look scary. And Aventurine always laughs at this, and he always wires you money and calls it a bonus as he pesters you for an answer, and he always gets distracted and starts scrolling through all his shopping wishlists instead. I saw this thing the other day and thought of you. And this too. Would you like either of them? Would you like them both? I’m a very generous manager, you know. I'll buy you anything you like.

But even though he always gets distracted, Aventurine never forgets. Sooner or later, he inevitably circles back to these questions—these anxieties about his scent, about his eyes, about his blood. He never cares for anyone else’s opinions, but he's always been curious about yours. Even when he was Vasha, he wanted to know what you thought.

He’d been sixteen years old and delirious with heat the first time he asked you, face wrinkling with pain as he spilled his thoughts. It was so incoherent, so sad, you thought it must have been about a fever dream. Mama Fenge, he kept saying. Mama Fenge blessed me, She blessed me, I'm blessed, it rained when I was born—did you know that? My luck, I was lucky. The Katicans, they never caught me. They got everyone else, but not me. I was blessed by Her. I'm going to save my people. I will. I'll save my sister. My eyes are proof. My mistress liked them. Said they're beautiful. Worth sixty whole coppers. A blessing. He pulled you close, pressed his scalding face to your scent gland, and his whole body shuddered with relief. This was the first and only time he'd allowed you to hold him, and it was only out of desperation, out of his mind. Do you like them, alpha? Do you like my eyes? Why? Is it because they're beautiful? Because they're from Gaiathra?

“I like them because they're yours,” you'd replied, and Kakavasha had laughed deliriously.

This is when he told you he hated them: I'd close them forever, if I could.

When you were younger—dumber—you had a habit of squirrelling away every spare coin you came across. You collected them in a little purse that one of the omega slaves had sewn for you—a thank-you for always keeping the other alphas away from her—and you hid it underneath a loose floorboard. By the time that Kakavasha was arrested, you'd saved up twenty-nine Tanba. You’d wanted enough to buy Kakavasha’s freedom and then to set him up for a comfortable life.

It had been a stupid plan. An embarrassing one. If you ever confessed it to Aventurine, he'd laugh at you. Slaves can't buy other slaves, he'd say. Leave the schemes to me next time. You’re too good-hearted for it.

You’d already known that, of course. You knew that you didn't have the status to buy him or mate him or even just provide for him, but you wanted to. God, did you want to—you spent every waking moment thinking about it, every sleeping moment dreaming of it. It wasn't even that you desired him, though he was beautiful and fragrant and more delicate than anything that had ever touched you in your life, which was only your master’s hands and your muzzle and your chains. Aventurine would feel so soft in comparison, you’d always figured. It made your heart ache, thinking about getting to hold something so lovely.

But really—that desire came second. What came first was how mated omegas feel safe around their alphas, and you so desperately wanted him to be safe. Kakavasha had looked so frail, so grim, as your master took his chains and led him home from the market, and you could smell the fear coming off him in waves. And you could do nothing to stop it. You had nothing you could use to stop it—nothing other than your hands that could kill for him and your pheromones that could soothe him and your useless heart that wanted to collect sixty Tanba for him. That was all you had.

So you failed in the end. Of course you did. You didn't have the status to buy him or mate him or even just provide for him. You couldn't even do for him the one thing you could have done—which was to kill. And Kakavasha suffered for your incompetence. He had to dirty his hands with blood and gamble his way into wealth and then suddenly he was freeing you, not the other way around.

And now you are comfortable. You'll lead an easy life from now, Aventurine reassured you when he brought you onto his ship all those years ago, and he's kept that promise. What about you? you'd asked him then. Will you lead an easy life with me, if you're working for the IPC? And he had smiled and lied to you: Yes.

It had been a painfully obvious lie. If you were a smarter person, you'd have never believed it in the first place. Aventurine has no interest in leading an easy life, because an easy life would be less profitable, and less profit would mean less safety. And he is always, always worried about being unsafe. It is indiscernible to everyone but you—an alpha (his alpha, always his, even if he doesn't want you) who has watched over him for so long that you can detect every shift in his scent. No matter how much cologne he drowns himself in and no matter how strong his suppressants are, you know when he is afraid.

And here is the bitter truth, the ultimate proof of your shortcomings:

Aventurine is always afraid.

It is a beautiful day on Agnisahr, and you can tell that Aventurine is about to throw up from worry.

You're sitting in the middle of stunning wealth—Aventurine in his feathers and jewellery, you in your tailored jacket—in a lobby made from marble and pale sandstone, with a view of palm trees and rolling, scarlet sand dunes beyond the window. The waitstaff addresses him as Honoured Guest and they keep his crystal chalice filled constantly with water—one of the most expensive commodities on the planet. Aventurine has been drinking from it religiously, which is strange as he typically has the habit of forgetting to hydrate. A faint wildflower scent is drifting from his slender form. These are the only giveaway to his mood: he's otherwise as pokerfaced as ever, smiling calmly as he discusses his plans to sabotage the local government and acquire the planet for the IPC.

“This is a very dangerous mission,” you state flatly.

“All my missions are dangerous.” He takes a sip, one pinky up. “The IPC pays me well for a reason. As they say—”

“‘High risk, high reward.’ I know.” You try not to sound bitter, though you allow yourself to sound tired. “I still do not think the risk is worth the reward in this case.”

“I think over 5.6 million in credits is a great reward, actually. We could do a lot with that kind of money.”

You raise a brow. “What could an extra 5.6 million get you that you can't already buy?” It is—as Topaz would say—‘chump change’ in comparison to his current wealth, which sums to a number so vast that you can't wrap your head around it.

Aventurine pretends to miss the point. “Tons! We could buy a new spacecraft. Get another mansion. Or—we could take a vacation to Penacony. I hear it's quite nice there.” A playful smile. “I could get us a penthouse unit. With a featherbed.”

You frown. Sometimes Aventurine likes to flirt when you're being stubborn—not out of interest, but as a ploy to distract you. He’d developed the habit after he joined the IPC. It used to fluster you, but now it only makes you cross your arms.

“You could die,” you point out.

“You'll protect me.”

“No, I won't. You always find a way to get rid of me when things are most dangerous.” You give him an accusatory stare. “You never let me do my job.”

He's too shameless to deny it. “And it's worked out fine, hasn't it? I haven't died so far.”

“Yes. Just by dumb luck.”

“I beg to differ. My luck is quite reliable.” He sets down his glass. Glances back outside. A microexpression, brows knotting for the briefest second as he studies the sky. “I'm not worried.”

“You're a shit liar.”

That gets him to look at you, letting a small frown pass over his face. “No, I'm actually a great liar. You're just too good at reading me. It's very inconvenient, you know.”

“I can't help it.” You lean toward him, making a show of it as you sniff. An orchid-like scent—faint but unmistakable—has seeped into artificial ambergris and wood. “It's hard to ignore.”

He hums. He isn't frowning anymore—but doesn't look happy, either. “I should change suppressants.” He taps the side of his empty glass, fidgeting. Aventurine never fidgets: it's an amateur giveaway. “These ones clearly don't work well enough.”

“That won't help. I know you too well.” Your eyes soften. He's looking outside again, the blues of his irises distant. “You're worried, Aventurine. More than usual. Let’s back out of this—let Jade handle it.”

“The mission isn't what's bothering me,” he says patiently. “I just don't like this planet.”

“Because you can tell it's dangerous.”

“No. Well—it is, but nothing I can't handle.” He leans back. “I just dislike the weather here.”

You arch a brow. “...the weather?”

“Yes,” he says neatly, “it's too dry here. I'll break out.”

You open your mouth. Close it. It is possibly the most absurd thing you've ever heard, and certainly the worst lie that's ever come from him. For as long as you've known him, Aventurine has had flawless skin, marble-smooth, and ever since being freed, he’s never really cared much for looking handsome so much as looking rich. But he maintains his serious expression: all-in on the farce. “Did you know that outside the capital, this planet hasn't had any natural rain in a quarter of an Amber Era? And the stellar winds are terrible. I don't know how people live on a planet like this.” His eyes narrow at the cloudless sky. “The IPC is going to need to do a lot of terraforming if they want to make this into a merchant hub.”

“Aventurine.”

“It'll be a pain crossing the desert—the elements will ruin my clothes, you know,” he continues. “It won't be so bad while we're on the ships, but we’ve got to go outside from time to time. Can't make any friends otherwise.”

“Aventurine.”

“And there's nothing to do for fun when we’re not working.” He sighs dramatically. “I can't wait to get our 5.6 billion and leave for someplace else. I'm being serious about Penacony, by the way—”

“Aventurine.”

“—though not about the featherbed. I'll get you your own room, obviously. And I'll buy whatever dream experience you’d like. What kind would you want?”

Finally allowed a chance to speak, you say, “One where you retire.”

“Retire? Why would I ever do that?”

“I don't know. Maybe you decide you've made enough money.”

“No such thing.”

“Then you can settle down with someone.”

That makes him smile. It feels mocking. “Me? Settling down? With who?”

“Who knows. Someone who will treat you better than the IPC, I hope.”

“Anyone that nice would run in the other direction. But never mind me. This would be your dream experience. What happens to you in it?”

“I stop chasing after you and get to live out the rest of my days in peace,” you say dryly, and Aventurine blinks. “Please stop deflecting. The IPC gave you a suicide mission. We will both die if we stay here.”

He looks serious now. “I wouldn't let you die.”

“You can't know that.”

“Well, I do. And I've got decent chances at surviving too—at least one in ten.”

You feel like sighing—a deep, aggravated noise is heavy in your throat—but Aventurine doesn't enjoy it when you show anger around him. It's the one omega instinct that he can't ignore, you suppose: unease around an aggressive alpha. Voice tightly controlled, you say, “You’re going to bet your life on one in ten?”

“Sure. My chances were worse on the last planet, and things worked out great. It'll be the same on Agnisahr.” Aventurine raises a hand, calls for the bill. The conversation is over. You lean back in your seat, watching sourly as he pays tens of thousands of credits just for water.

“You know, they say the royal family is backed by an Aeon,” you can't help but point out, once the waiter is gone. A last-ditch effort. Aventurine smiles at it, amused. Like you're a child.

“So what?” He glances outside, at the desolate landscape beyond the oasis—nothing but red sand, a blue, rainless sky, and two radiant suns shining above it all. “The protection of a god is nothing compared to the schemes of human beings. And gods abandon their people all the time, anyway.”

During your tenth day on Agnisahr, you realise that something is deeply wrong.

It takes you some time to understand what’s happening. At first you think that whatever political danger you’ve intuited is much worse than you thought, and that’s why Aventurine has been so pale, so discomforted, so exhausted. Then his scent starts changing—he switches clothes two, three times a day (because of all this heat during Agnisahran days, he tells his new business associates) and spritzes his nape with his cologne almost religiously—and you wonder if he is sick with something. If the food in this planet has something that disagrees with his Sigonian biology, or if he has picked up one of the local filoviruses, or if someone’s poisoned one of his meals because they’ve correctly identified him as a threat. Aventurine dismisses every single one of these theories when you bring it up, and—as if in denial—only attributes it to the weather. (I’ve never done well in deserts, he tells you, his eyes on his phone screen. I'm not used to them. It is above 300 Kelvin, and you do not see a single bead of sweat on his neck, and his cheeks are not even a little flushed.)

You only figure it out when he is too ill to get out of bed one morning and forbids all the IPC staff from coming near his hotel room. It sets off alarms immediately—Aventurine, no matter how sick, will work and see through meetings as long as he is mentally capable of it—and so you naturally ignore his orders and check on him, using the spare key to his sleeping quarters that you're given as a policy. And as soon as the door cracks open—as soon as you step inside only to be hit with a violent, cloying sweetness—you realise what’s happening and slam the door shut behind you.

“You’re in heat,” you blurt out, and Aventurine—a shivering, panting mess on the bed—groans in response.

“Why are you here?” He turns toward you, still lucid enough to glare at you through the tangled mess of his hair. His voice is weak, but no less self-possessed: “I was very clear—no company today.”

“I am your personal bodyguard,” you remind him mildly. Your voice is calm—both non-threatening and non-condescending. “Those orders don’t apply to me. If things feel suspicious, I look into it. And they felt very suspicious.” Your brow knits as you study his clothes. Mulberry silk clings to his form, soaked through with sweat. Thin, eucalyptus sheets are tangled up around him. There are only two pillows. No water bottles. No knotting toys.

Nothing.

“You didn't know you'd be in heat,” you realise. “What happened to your suppressants?”

“I don't know.” There’s a quiet, frustrated edge to his voice. Vulnerable too. It makes you think of when you were both still slaves, and Aventurine was confined to the basement of the manor—the one that all omega slaves were made to ride out their heats in. Either they would do it alone or were ordered to spend it with some alpha, usually either a friend of the master or an alpha slave he wished to reward. That's when they're most pliable, he'd tell his guests, or sometimes even you. They get so desperate they'll present themselves to anyone. Then amused laughter from the other party—How obscene!—as you looked away, blood hammering in your ears.

You had been your master’s favourite. His most obedient, most profitable pet—striking enough for his guests to admire, deadly enough for his audiences to bet on, docile enough for him to enjoy. Good enough for him to reward, and he often rewarded you with his most beautiful slave: his Avgin omega. Just don't mark him, he’d said, fastening the muzzle around your mouth. It'll ruin his market value. Who knows if someday he'd sell Kakavasha off to some alpha master who wished to claim him, he said. Though I don't think there's anyone in this star system who'd want a Sigonian for a mate, let alone a Sigonian slave. Then he’d paused, eyes scanning over you. As if contemplating. But maybe they'd try to get Avgin whelps out of him, he added, and you felt like throwing up.

You'd never mate him in those moments, your muzzle always prevented you from saying. You didn't even want to think about touching him, and he didn't want to think about it either. Even in the cruel grip of his heats, with nothing but the thin mat beneath him and his slave’s rags around him, Kakavasha hadn't wanted any kind of contact from you, rejecting any chance of solace. Don't, don't—not again, not again, he'd begged. Then as the nights marched on and his mind grew hazier, he’d start whimpering too: It hurts, alpha. It hurts. Help me. It hurts. Don't touch me. Not again. It hurts. It hurts. Stop it, please stop it.

It gutted you.

It went against every instinct, not to touch him. To let him lie there, in scorching, lonely pain, when all you wanted to do was to dispel it. It would be so easy to press yourself against him and let his skin cool against yours, do the one thing that your body was good at other than killing. But not again, not again, I can't anymore, I don't want it, I never wanted it, and all you could do was sit there, unmoving. Watch as the most delicate, precious thing you had in your life shatter.

And standing here now, watching Aventurine shatter before you once more—it is unbearable. He needs a nest, you keep thinking. He needs a nest and some water and some kind of touch, some kind of relief, but not again, not again, and you’re still a slave, still a worthless and stupid slave, and Kakavasha is still crying on a basement floor and you can't do anything for him.

“You need help, Aventurine,” you say, voice soft, and his whole body tenses. His scent dips, and the scent of florals overwhelms you.

“No,” he breathes, “I don't.”

“You do. You're sick.” You bite your lip. Your heart splits as you suggest it, but you say, “I can call a professional.”

“No,” he spits. The facade is gone. The poker face has cracked. The anger and the pain and the fear are all on full display, and his voice sharpens: “No strangers.”

No foreign scents, you realise he's demanding. A new scent would probably make him feel unsafe.

Then let me help you, you think of pleading, but not again, not again, and you're filled with so much shame at the thought that all you can do is look away.

“Then—can I do anything?” He goes still. “Not—not that, but something to make you more comfortable. I can build you a nest, at least—”

“No.” He takes a deep, shaking breath. “No nests. I don't need one—”

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don't,” he says. His voice is wavering now, on the verge of crumbling with fever and pain. “I've never—I’ve never needed a nest, I don't—I don't want to—” He presses his face into his pillow. “I need—I need to be alone, fuck—”

He doesn't mean to whine. The cry for distress is instinct, something that all omegas are programmed to do in heat. You’ve heard that they’ve evolved to make this noise as a way of appealing to nearby alphas for help, but you think this must be a lie as you never once saw your alpha master giving mercy to any of his omega slaves. Still, whether it is your biology or not—the noise that Aventurine makes has your heart aching so much you can't help but step forward. But he shakes his head and inches away, shuddering violently, and then his voice echoes again in that cold basement—not again, not again, and don't touch it anymore, don't use it anymore, don't use me anymore, not again, and it's all you can do to back away until your spine is pressed against the door.

“I'm sorry, Vasha,” you say, strained. “I’m sorry. I'll leave you now.”

As the door shuts behind you, you catch a final glimpse him—face pressed into the pillows, shivering.

If you didn't know better, you'd think he was crying.

When you were both slaves, Aventurine hated seeing you during his heats.

Kakavasha was normally calm around you. Most of the time, he was even friendly (he was friendly to everyone whom he thought could be useful), but he was different during his heats. Sometimes he was vicious; mostly he was withdrawn. Nearly always, he wanted to be left alone. In those moments, all he could register was your alpha scent and his memories of what other people had done to him during his heats. And while you'd have hated to leave him, despised the idea of him being offered to another alpha—even more than that, you hated violating this boundary of his. Hated that you were allowed to do whatever you wanted to him. Hated being the reason he felt so unsafe.

Hated being an alpha.

Now that you no longer have the orders of your slavemaster hanging over you, it is the least you can do to respect Aventurine’s wish of being left alone. He has every right to privacy, and you have every obligation to give it to him. But instead you have been standing here, outside his door, for a full system-hour.

Every time you try to leave, your body is wracked with anxiety. The thought of other people—other alphas—coming near him in this state makes you seethe, your hands flexing at your side. The predator instinct comes out, and the people around you notice it. Every person unlucky enough to walk down this hall scurries away under your glare, even the other IPC staff wandering about to look for Aventurine: Must be their mate on the other side, they remark to one another, and then they're gone.

It is a hard thing to hear. You are not his mate. You are not even a heat partner. If you were, then he wouldn't be in so much pain. Not now, and not back then.

Aventurine has never had easy heats. You keep replaying your memories of all his past ones, each one a wound in your heart: the aching sweetness of nectar and honey; his withering body as he clutched his abdomen and curled up; the tears and sweat staining the mat beneath him. And above all: the fear. The scent of it, the sight of it, the sound of it in his voice. Stronger today than any other day.

By instinct, you know that he cannot persist like this. That this time is somehow worse than all those other times, and that he will become seriously ill if left alone.

After nearly an hour and a half, you finally open the door, fearing the worst.

“Aventurine?” you say quietly, but there's no response, and your stomach drops as you see him.

His body is pale, listless. If it weren't for the fragrance washing over you or the sweat on his temple, you'd worry that he was dead.

Tentatively, you reach out. Rest a hand on his forehead, and it scorches you. He stirs at the touch, doesn't open his eyes—but the quiet sigh of relief is unmistakable. His fingers twitch, as if wanting to reach for you.

“Aventurine,” you say gently. “Aventurine, I'm going to take care of you. Is that alright?”

He doesn't respond. You grimace, pulling away to fetch things for him: several spare pillows from the closet, an extra blanket too. From his suitcase, you grab a few of his sweaters, all thick cotton and fleece. He’d had a sense that Agnisahr would be cold at night. Deserts always get cold after sundown, since sand doesn’t retain heat, he'd told you while he was packing. Or I think so, anyway. Don't know why. Must have read it somewhere. Then he’d given you a long, unreadable look before saying, Make sure to bring a jacket. The warmest one you have. The elements on a planet like Agnisahr can kill a person—even a person like you.

I’m sure I’ll be fine, you’d dismissed him. I can survive anything. Any kind of weather, any kind of illness, any kind of pain: these are all things your species is known for being able to endure, the trait that made you such a prized slave in your master’s eyes, such a useful agent at the IPC. You hadn’t given Aventurine’s warning any thought and hardly paid attention to what you’d thrown into your own suitcase.

It surprises you, then, that you find one of your sweaters in his luggage. Made from Sedanian cashmere and heat tech designed by the Intelligentsia Guild. Cloud-soft and warm to the touch. Aventurine had bought it for you before you were deployed to Jarilo-IV to collect intelligence for Topaz. Warmest thing in the known universe, he’d commented. One of a kind, too. Remember to wear it, alright? Don't let my money go to waste, now.

You stare at it, kneading the fleece between your fingers. You hadn’t mentioned wanting to bring this sweater. You’d lost it in your closet some months ago and forgot about it. Aventurine must have remembered and gone looking for it, because—why? You aren't sure. Probably because it’s warmer and softer than anything he owns, you guess. Of course he’d want to wear it.

You throw it into the pile of things you’ve collected for him.

You take it all to his bed, the mattress dipping as you sit next to Aventurine. One by one, you scent each item with your wrist, watching him carefully the whole time. You’re quiet as you lay them out around him, leaving him undisturbed as you build a nest. You order water and electrolyte drinks too, and you’re quick about going to the door when you hear room service knocking—with how feverish he is, he probably badly needs it.

Aventurine is awake when you come back. His breathing is still laboured, pained—but calm.

“I said I didn’t need a nest,” Aventurine says, though he doesn’t sound angry. You wonder if he’s too weak to be. His voice is faint, and his eyes are barely open—focused on the pile of blankets and clothing around him.

“You’re welcome.” You open a bottle of water, hold it out to him. “Drink.”

Aventurine pauses, stares at the offering like it's some kind of foreign object. But he accepts it eventually, sitting up and taking it from you. He winces with the movement, which he tries to hide. He ignores your frown as he drinks, and he doesn't stop until the bottle is empty.

“There are more,” you say, pointing at the several additional bottles on the nightstand. “And some food and some painkillers. I don't know how well they’ll work. This isn't a normal heat. If you're alright with it, I'll call a doctor and—”

“Everything smells like you,” he says quietly, and you stop.

“...yes. Unless they’re mated, nests usually feel most comforting to an omega when they smell like an alpha.” You swallow, looking away. “...you don't have a mate, and you didn't want a professional, so this was the only option I could think of. I'm sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he says. He picks out one of the sweaters that have made its way into the nest, the Sedanian one. “I don't mind it.”

“Oh.” You let out a breath. “Then—can I call a doctor?”

His grip on the sweater tightens. “No.”

You frown. “Aventurine—”

“I’ve never needed a doctor before,” he says. He sounds unbothered, but he's fidgeting with the sweater now. “I don't need one now.”

A lie. He almost certainly needed a doctor in some of his prior heats, but you don't push the matter. “Maybe you don't need one,” you say instead, “but it would help.”

“I don't need help,” he says, and you look at him in disbelief. He catches your expression, and the corner of his mouth lifts. “Not more than you've already done, I mean.”

“I’ve barely—”

“Contact Topaz. Tell her I'm incapacitated. Tell her…” He hums. “Tell her I have food poisoning. The personnel too. It's not time-sensitive, our business on Agnisahr, so it shouldn't matter if I need a few days off.”

“You really need—”

“Give my regrets to our Agnisahran friends. Deliver it in person. They see you as my right hand, so they’ll most appreciate it coming from you. Topaz can help you with the verbiage. And—try to socialise with them a little, won't you? I think that little omega princess of theirs likes you. Some of the courtesans too, and they have surprising influence.”

“I do not want to be around any omega other than you right now,” you say before you can stop yourself, and Aventurine stops, blinking. His expression is blank, if perhaps a little curious—but his scent shifts. You can't identify how. You add quickly, “I’m not leaving you alone when you’re this sick.”

“Ah. Right.” Aventurine looks away. His voice sounds strange, and his heat must be getting to him again, because it carries a hint of pain. “But you have to. The IPC’s goals take priority.”

You frown. “Your life is more important than the IPC,” you say, and he laughs. Loudly.

“What? This is just a heat. I’m not going to die.”

“You don’t know that without seeing a doctor.”

“I do. I’m willing to bet money that I won’t die.” He cuts you off before you can reply: yes, you're always willing to bet on your life. “And even if I do, that would still be less important than Agnisahr. Do you know how many resources are on this lifeless rock?” His mouth slants. “If we mess up here, I’m dead anyway.”

“I wouldn’t let them touch you.”

“Yes, you would—because they would kill you too.” Aventurine sighs. His eyes close, and his brow creases—a sign that whatever reprieve he was lucky enough to get is about to end. “Go do what I asked. Don’t do anything stupid. I’ll… see a doctor if you do.”

You stand immediately. “Alright. I’ll be back to check on you.”

“I know.”

You stop at the door, giving him a long look. Seeing him like this—lying on a proper bed, cradled in a warm nest, with water and food and medicine nearby—you feel a little better. This is leagues beyond what he’d been afforded in his days as a slave, at the very least. Even if he isn’t free, at least he isn’t trapped.

But it still doesn’t feel good, having to step away. The last thing you want to do is talk to other people, pretend to have interest in other omegas. There are an astonishing number of them who are interested in you on this planet—that princess, and some baron’s son, and one of the prince’s favourite paramours—but you can’t bring yourself to care even for business purposes when Aventurine is like this. You can't act as if you are enjoying yourself when you know he is in pain.

You wonder about telling Topaz the truth. You wonder if she’d be worried enough about Aventurine to let you neglect this mission and cover for you instead, without letting Jade or Diamond or anyone else dangerous know. Not that you think that anyone at the Company particularly cares about Kakavasha—it’s only that he’s valuable. Aventurine of Stratagems is valuable. How many worlds have fallen because of him?

But he seemed unwilling to bet on his worth to them. Which is startling, given how often he's bet on it in the past.

“What’s so important about this planet,” you can’t help but ask, “that the IPC would rather you die than lose it?”

He’s silent for a long moment. His eyes are closed—hidden—but you can see his knuckles whiten as he clutches the Sedanian sweater.

“Copper,” he says. “They want it for the copper.”

When Kakavasha first suggested a friendship to you, it had felt like something in between a proposition and a threat:

Go ahead, he'd said. Use me as you wish. You can even stab me in the back if you want. Just be mindful of this: I don't make deals that don't pay off.

It might have been a strange way of making friends in any other circumstance, but in a house of slaves, it was a natural one. You had not been a clever person—still aren't—but you understood that your place in the world was one of a tool. This was the place of all slaves: you were all things to be used. Your body was a thing to be used. It was valuable for its strength, for its hardiness, for its threat in the arena and for its convenience in your master’s bed (or in a dark basement, or within a heat house, or inside whichever omega your mistress ordered you to calm down). It did not surprise you that Kakavasha wanted to use it as well. It did not surprise you that Kakavasha expected you to use him in return.

You never would have, of course. Kakavasha was not a thing to be used—he had always been a mate. Though you were happy to let him use you, because all you were was a tool anyway, so it was really all you could offer him: to be used.

None of this has changed for you. You don't think any of this has changed for Aventurine, either. With each new friendship he makes, he repeats those familiar words: Use me as you wish. And with each person who accepts, this is exactly what they do: they use him, and they use him, and they use him until suddenly they notice he's tricked them and they've got the losing hand.

You damned gambler, they always spit. You Sigonian wretch. All you know is how to manipulate people. Thief, liar, cheat, whore. Despite all these insults, Aventurine always smiles at them. Cry as they might, he’s won his bet and has their world in his palms.

Winner takes all, he sometimes gloats.

Winning and losing. Using and being used. Exploitation and treachery. This is all Aventurine knows; these are his great guiding principles in life. (He's told you this point blank, stacking up chips in his favourite gambling dens with a self-satisfied grin.) You often find yourself coming back to these conversations, particularly when you need to convince him of something.

And right now, you very badly need to convince him of something.

Aventurine is ignoring his doctor’s advice. His suppressants are unstable in extreme temperatures, he's been told. During travel on Agnisahr, they'd degraded, and now he’s experiencing his first heat in several years. Of course it's going to be painful, his doctor had said. I can prescribe you some medication to ease the symptoms, but really—nothing will work better than a heat partner. It doesn't need to be a mate. Any alpha will do.

The doctor had been an alpha. You had asked for a beta or omega, but alphas tend to dominate in Interastral Medical Schools, so they're in short supply. Aventurine had been still the whole time, face unreadable, but you could tell he wanted to throw up at the stench of an unfamiliar alpha. You had stepped between the two of them, not bothering to hide the animosity in your voice. We’ll take the medication, you had said, and the doctor had sniffed the air and nodded at you in approval.

Probably won't need it. An alpha like you could sort him out with just a few rounds, he told you, and both of you stayed quiet as he left.

You still aren't talking, or even looking at each other. Aventurine has lay down in his nest again, closing his eyes, while you stand as far away as physically possible—at the door where you'd just shown the doctor out. With the room shut off again, windows closed and door locked, Aventurine’s scent is starting to flood your senses once more. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch him shivering.

“What do you want to do?” you ask.

“Nothing.” He swallows. “I'll be fine.”

He's afraid. You can tell he's afraid. And you can tell he’ll be more afraid if you take even a single step closer to him, so you nod and say, “I'll go pick up your medication, then,” and Aventurine doesn't stop you. You can see him curling up in his nest, face pressed into the cashmere sweater.

But he still doesn't stop you.

After a few more days, Aventurine finally breaks.

There is a rare sag to his shoulders when he calls you to the room, along with a taste of dread in the air. You haven't seen him so vulnerable in years. Aventurine is not an open person, so cunning and self-possessed in his wealth—but Kakavasha was more brittle, more powerless, flayed raw and open even though he didn't often get the whip. (It would ruin his value if he ever scarred—his looks were his greatest selling point, your master said.) He was especially defeated when forced to spend his heats with an alpha he didn't want. You wonder, a vice grip of pain around your heart, whether this entire situation is simply an extension of that. Whether he is calling you here against his will, this time compelled by his pain, rather than his master. Whether this luxury suite feels like that wretched basement to him.

He doesn't look at you when he talks, nor does he sit up. He remains curled in his nest, nearly clinging onto the blankets and clothes.

“That stupid medication,” he pants out, sharp even in his heat, “isn't working.”

“I can tell.” Your brow knots. He’s in so much pain, it is palpable. “I”—you hesitate, voice dropping. “Can I help you?”

He goes quiet. As both Aventurine and Kakavasha, he has always been disinclined to accept help from other people. There is no such thing as unconditional help in his mind—only leverage and weakness. He hates it when people have leverage over him, and he hates being weak. Both are things that can be exploited, and Aventurine always needs to be the one doing the exploiting. He always needs to be in control.

Even like this, the last threads of his sanity about to snap, with every circuit of his omega biology trying to drag him into insensible lust, he fights viciously to be in control.

Winning and losing. Using and being used. Exploitation and treachery. Control and being controlled. This is how he's always lived. This is how he's always survived.

This is the only way to let him maintain control when he is most afraid of losing it.

“I don't mind,” you say quietly, “if you use me.”

Even through the haze of heat, Aventurine’s eyes sharpen. “What?”

“I don't mind if you use me,” you repeat, voice neutral. Unfeeling. The proposal might sound cruel to someone else, but not you. After all—your place in the world is one of a tool, and this is what you've always done as an alpha and a slave: sleeping with people to take care of their needs, or sometimes just their desires. It did always make you feel strangely hollow, but you think it will feel just fine with Aventurine. All you've ever wanted to do is keep him safe, and surely, this will do that, but—

“I'll only help if you want. I don't want to force it.” You lower your eyes. “But if you do want it, I'll be careful with you. You can lead. I promise.”

“...I know.” Aventurine’s voice is weak, cracks with pain, but you can tell he's speaking with clarity. “I know you will be.”

You look up. “Then you'll let me help?”

Aventurine looks away—a sign that he cannot adopt his usual smile. He’s clutching that sweater again, pressed close to his chest.

“Just your wrist,” he says quietly.

You listen carefully. “What?”

“I just—I just want your wrist.” He looks away. “Your—your scent gland. Only that.”

“Okay.”

You get up, then falter. When it was your job to comfort your mistress’ omega slaves, you were told to enter their nests—no permission needed from them, no permission needed from you, because only her permission ever mattered for anything. The omegas were usually too delirious to care, often had even begged for it with the state of mind that they were in. But Aventurine is different. He's not like you, and he's not like them. He's never bent to any of his masters’ wills. And even if he did, you wouldn't want to have him bend to yours.

Instead of climbing into his nest, you ask, “Can I sit on the bed?” He doesn't answer. “Just the edge of it,” you add, and you hear him exhale.

“Fine,” he says, breathing measured.

“Thank you,” you say, and he gives you a confused look. But then you're reaching out with a hand, offering it, and he is quickly distracted.

Aventurine drops the sweater, grabs your hand almost immediately. He turns over your palms, fingers tracing your heartlines—as if testing you, as if mapping out territory. He runs his thumbs along the veins of your wrists, too, right over your scent gland, and you have to force yourself not to shudder at the feeling. You only stay still, letting him explore the contours of your hands, letting him acclimate to the feeling of your skin. He laces his fingers with your own, a latticework trap, and he finally drags his wrist along yours.

Both of you inhale sharply.

You can't react. You know it'll scare him if you do, but it's hard to keep still. The way his scent blossoms, the way it mingles with yours, the way it all washes over you—what you're doing can hardly be called touching, but you feel like you're going mad. Especially when he flushes like that, his vibrant eyes fluttering shut. Especially when the sweetness of honey overtakes your senses. Especially when you can smell the way his body is reacting, all that wetness and heat and slick dripping between his legs. You don't miss the way his thighs rub together, nor the hard outline of his cock straining against his pants.

Aventurine shudders. He brings your hand up to his face, rests his cheek in your palm. His skin is flushed and burning with fever, and it's no wonder that he's sighing with relief at your touch. You try not to stare at the way his mouth falls open. He looks at you for a moment, his gaze a hazy violet and blue—before he closes his eyes again and presses his lips into your wrist.

Fuck.

“Aventurine—” You have to stop, voice strangled, when you feel the full softness of his lips working against your skin. He’s panting now, laboured breaths sweeping over your veins. Then you feel his teeth catch, a gentle nip on your flesh, and when he groans into your racing pulse—deep, relieved, desperate, a noise that makes your gut flare with heat—you realise you can't do this.

You pull back your hand, and Aventurine startles.

“Aventurine,” you say, voice strained. Maybe we should stop, you want to say, but he cuts you off.

“I need”—a shaky breath—“I need more.”

You watch Aventurine carefully. His pupils are dilated, blue irises nearly eclipsed. His cheeks are rosy, and he can't stop panting. You can fully smell his arousal now, even through his silk clothes. He's desperate, needing to be filled.

But he also looks torn. His brows are knotted, and you can taste a faint hint of fear in the air now. His knuckles clutch at the sheets, almost white, and he stares at them. He can't look up. He can't look at you. His whole body is tense, like he wants to bolt—and if he weren't so weak, you think he might actually.

“Are you sure?” you ask.

He doesn't nod. He also doesn't shake his head. His arms clutch at his midsection as he winces. He doesn't look like Aventurine. He looks like Kakavasha. It makes your heart ache as you watch him give into his body’s demands, wearing the same expression he did on the day your master bought him.

“...don't use your Voice on me,” Aventurine—Kakavasha—says quietly.

It takes you a moment to realise what he's asking. “I won't.”

“And”—his eyes somehow grow even more evasive, hidden by his long lashes— “don’t touch my commodity code.”

His commodity code. His commodity code that is seared into his scent gland. His code that, if you kiss, will ease his agony instantly. His code that, if you bite—will chain him to you irreversibly.

“Of course I won't,” you say instantly.

He closes his eyes. Takes a deep breath.

“And—” Aventurine looks away, jaw tight. His voice is quiet but wrought with tension: “—I don't like when people put things inside me.”

Something claws the walls of your heart.

“That's fine too,” you reply. “I don't mind doing it the other way.”

Aventurine’s sigh is nearly inaudible, but unmistakable. His scent shifts a little bit, the wildflower fragrance fading ever so slightly. But he doesn't come to you. He merely sits there—waiting. Expecting. Maybe dreading. Even in the senseless daze of heat, he’s too anxious to move.

You approach slowly. Though you're overwhelmed by the bouquet of his scent, though you feel a curl of heat in your belly in response to it—you are slow. Alphas are supposedly victims of insatiable lust whenever around an omega in heat, absolved of every action they take, but you are convinced this is a lie. You have never once wanted to handle Aventurine with such cruelty. You think that inflicting violence on him, more than anything else, would go against your biology. Every molecule in your body would reject putting him in such pain or inciting such fear. So you are careful when you approach him, slow as you inch up to him—but you do not think it helps.

Aventurine lies down, his face turned away from yours. His eyes squeeze shut, like he's expecting this to hurt. Uncertainty gnaws at your gut as you lean over him, draping your body over his—the only position you've ever taken an omega in, other than mounting them from behind.

(You do not want to mount Aventurine. You never have. It is an impersonal position, a position that omega biology supposedly would force him to enjoy, a position that alphas have likely dictated him to enjoy. You think there is nothing you would hate more. In your weakest, most selfish moments, in your worst ruts, when you’ve allowed yourself to fantasise about mating Kakavasha—you are always facing each other, and he is always looking at you with his eyes you've always loved, and it always feels intimate. Never impersonal. Never dictated. Never forced.)

Aventurine is so honeysweet beneath you. More fragrant than any omega you’ve ever been with. You glance at his commodity code, trying to ignore the scent of his branded skin, then lean down to press your face against the other side of his neck, where a faint scar mars the otherwise flawless slope of his nape. Like every other omega slave you've ever slept with, the scent gland there has been excised: a precautionary measure to reduce the risk of an unwanted mating bite.

(Not unwanted by them—the wants of a slave never matter—but unwanted by their owners. A mating bite would ruin the code seared into their neck, claim an omega more deeply and permanently than any titanium collar or carbon steel chain. It would hurt their resale value. Only owners are allowed to claim slaves in such a permanent way—and the wants of a slave have no relevance there, either.)

It's a funny thing, this surgical scar. Even with their gland missing, you've noticed that most omegas like having their neck scented by you anyway, probably from some vestigial instinct. You guess that Aventurine won't be any different, that maybe it will comfort him. But when your lips skim the scar left on him by his owner, his entire body stiffens beneath you. His fragrance cuts into your lungs, sharp.

You recoil, as if burned by the touch of him.

“Sorry,” Aventurine is quick to say. He tries to glance at you, but his diamond pupils quickly avoid you again. “Don’t worry about me. Just do whatever you need to do.”

“But you're scared,” you point out, and you see his brow twitch. “You’re scared when I touch you.”

“Not scared,” he lies. “Just…”

When his eyes finally look at you—land on your lips—you understand.

A bite would claim an omega more deeply and permanently than any titanium collar or carbon steel chain. If you lost your mind—give into the insatiable lust of an alpha whenever around an omega in heat—you might bite him, and then you would own Aventurine.

And Aventurine would rather die than be owned by anyone again.

He doesn't need to finish his sentence. You already know what you need to do.

“It's okay,” you say gently, and his brow knots. “I have an idea.”

Aventurine is always afraid.

This is a fact that has haunted you since the day you met him. You've wondered about how to fix it—the bare minimum as his mate (always his, even if he doesn't want you)—and you’ve never quite pinned down how. Because when someone has spent their life in perpetual fear, how do you make them feel safe? When their life is constantly at risk, how do you ever make them feel calm?

You still aren't sure of the answer. But after seeing Kakavasha become Aventurine, you now have a good guess.

It is clear from his scent that Aventurine does not feel remotely safe right now. Not when you leave to fetch something from your own room, and not when you return. The anxiety thickens when he sees, in your hands, a very familiar muzzle.

Aventurine stares. He is not smiling, but he also does not reveal his discomfort on his face, even as beads of sweat line his temple. But his voice is too controlled, too calm, when he asks, “You kept the mask.”

You nod.

“I told you to throw it out,” he points out, “when I freed you.”

“I know. Sorry. I don't know why I kept it.” You remember how tightly you clutched it before the incinerator, thinking about how strange it would feel, discarding something that you'd worn everyday since you presented—but you don't tell him this. Instead, you say, “But it’s convenient.”

Before Aventurine can say anything, you toss him the remote.

“You’re afraid of my bite and my Voice, but you don't have to be with this,” you explain. Your tone is gentle, soothing. Probably disarming coming from an alpha, with how he is in heat. Perhaps that's why he’s studying the remote rather than chucking it away. “You'll be in full control if I wear this.”

Control. Mere seconds after you say it, you can smell his fragrance change again, mellowing. It's only a brief moment of calm that fades when you latch the mask onto your face, but he doesn't smell as nearly as stressed before.

Aventurine watches you carefully as the carbon steel swallows your maw, its old and familiar edges biting into you. For the first time in years, you cannot tell what he is thinking—truly poker-faced even to you.

“You aren't bothered by wearing that thing while we do this,” he says—asks?—and you shake your head. The muzzle was part of you for years. You were wearing it when you killed someone for the first time. You were wearing it when you went into rut for the first time. You were wearing it when your master had sex with you for the first time. It doesn't bother you that you’ll wear it when you have sex with Aventurine.

If you could speak, you would ask him, Why do you think it would bother me? But all you do is gesture for him to sit up. To switch places with you. You lie down—something you've never done with an omega—and wait for him to get on top.

Aventurine stares at you for a long, quiet moment. It's followed by a sigh of relief. Disarmed, he—for the first time in any heat you've witnessed—finally relaxes. His scent wafts over you as he climbs between your legs, and you can feel the heat radiating from his hands as he parts your thighs, almost scalding.

He doesn't bother getting you ready, too needy to think rationally, but he doesn't have to anyway. You've been wet ever since you felt his mouth touch your wrist, hard ever since you heard him groan into it. You're equally desperate to get some relief as you feel his cockhead sliding against your opening, leaking all over your entrance as his slick drips onto your thighs. His breath shakes as he enters you, and he can't hear it with how you're muzzled—but you groan just as deeply as him at the tight stretch.

You hear him swear when you clench around him, watch him lean over you. His arms shake as he supports himself, refusing to succumb to his heat even as he chases his relief. You seek out his gaze (just as in your dreams, facing each other, intimate), and his neon eyes catch on your eyes for a brief, breathtaking second—

—before he looks away.

There's a flash of—you don't know what, maybe pain? Or fear?—in his irises as he does. A twitch of the brow, a tell he'd normally rather die than let slip. You have the realisation, as Aventurine moves inside you, that even while you're muzzled, even while he has complete control over you—he still can't stand having sex with you. Probably because he can't stand being in heat in general, you tell yourself. Don't touch me, don't touch me, don't use it anymore, don't use me anymore. He'd have this reaction to anyone.

Still—you didn't expect him to have this reaction to you.

Your hands twitch, possessed by an old instinct to cover your eyes. But you'd probably scare Aventurine if you moved your arms, so all you do is dig your fingers into the sheets and squeeze them shut. You tell yourself again and again that he'd hate having sex with anyone in these circumstances—not just you. And then you tell yourself, as a desperate, broken moan leaves his branded throat, that he would also come inside anyone in these circumstances, caught within the cruel grip of his heat.

Aventurine stills inside you as he finishes. He pants, sweat dripping down his temple as he shudders in his ecstasy, his spend hot and thick inside you. You can feel his fever break as he comes down from his high, the heat coming off his body easing into a manageable warmth.

Do you feel better, you try to say, but you can't move your mouth while your mask is on. So you wait patiently for Aventurine to come back to himself, watching him carefully as he pulls out and rolls onto the mattress beside you. He finally glances at you then. His eyes narrow once they land on you, confusion flicking through them. Then displeasure. He reaches for the remote.

To your surprise, he immediately punches in the code to unlock your muzzle. Aventurine has apparently remembered the numbers after all these years, as if the moment he freed you has been since seared into his memory.

“Are you okay?” is the first thing you say, and Aventurine gives you a confused look. He’s still panting, dazed, so you ask, “Can I check your temperature?” And when he nods, you confirm your suspicion: he's still much too warm.

There is an ache between your legs and a strange hollow in your gut (because you aren't very experienced with receiving, you think—your body likely just isn't used to the feeling of it), but you quickly forget them. All you can think of is Aventurine, and how he’s still unwell, and how you need to comfort him. The instinct is so strong that you don't even say anything as you get up, straightening out your clothes.

“Are you leaving?” Aventurine asks. His voice is neutral, completely unbothered, but the thought is so horrific to you that you turn back to him with wide eyes.

“Of course not. I'm going to get you water and medicine.” A beat. You stare at Aventurine’s eyes, then think about how he hid them from you during sex. The hollow feeling comes back, but it's mostly eclipsed by your anxiety at the next thought: “...do you want me to leave?”

“Do you want to?”

“I—” I'd rather die, you think. Being forced to leave him right now would feel like tearing out a piece of yourself. You don't know if there's an alpha in this world who could leave their mate in the middle of a heat. And even if he is unmarked, unattached to you—you still think of yourself as his mate. (His, always his, even if he doesn't want you.) “I would prefer not to. I am your heat partner. I'm supposed to take care of you.”

You hear a quiet breath. “Right. Of course. You're always so conscientious.” Aventurine nods, as if convincing himself of something. “Try not to take too long.”

“I’ll come back soon,” you promise, and the air sweetens. Encouraged, you add, voice gentle: “I’ll bring that medication, and then we can have sex as many times as you need after I come back. I'll make sure you're not in any pain anymore.” You pause, studying him. “Is there anything else you need to feel better?”

His fragrance changes once more, this time in a way you don't totally recognize. “No.” His voice sounds strange. His scent is still foreign, fluctuating, possibly hinting at some kind of pain. The heat must be getting to him again—and of course it wasn't enough, what you just did, what you can provide. He likely needs to be filled to get any kind of lasting relief, but you left him empty. “No, that's all I want.”

You nod, forcing yourself to look calm. Ignoring the emptiness in your gut. It didn't feel bad, but you hope it'll feel better next time you have sex. You think it will. Alphas are supposed to be filled with an insatiable lust near omegas in heat, after all. And even though you’ve never felt that before—never felt anything sleeping with all those omegas in your mistress’ house—you are sure you'll eventually feel it around Aventurine.

But the feeling never comes. Even though you can tell that his heat has returned by the time you're back—sweat beading his temples, laboured breaths at his lips, his bottoms now discarded, with full evidence of arousal between his legs—you don't feel much of anything as you reach for your mask again.

“Don't,” Aventurine says, before it can clasp around your face. You give him a curious look. He explains, “Don't. I don't want to have sex again. Not yet.”

You stare at him, shifting. Uncomfortable. Uncertain. Not knowing how he wants to use you. “What can I do?”

He gives you a long look. “Come here. I… I want your scent gland.”

It's a sensible request. If there's a way to seek relief without fucking someone—without fucking you, which he clearly hated doing—you're sure Aventurine would prefer it. So you climb into his nest, holding your wrist out for him, and—

“No.” His voice is quiet. “I want the one on your neck.”

“...oh.”

You stand there, not sure where to move. If he wants you in his nest again, or if he’d rather do this standing. You’re relieved when he demands, “Lie down.”

You expect him to get on top of you when you do. Assume that he wants complete control—but he instead lies down beside you. Presses his body into yours, and then his face into your neck. His nose and lips brush against your scent gland, a full-body shudder running through him, and—

—and now you know for a fact that it is a lie that alphas want nothing other than to fuck an omega when they're in heat. Because even like this, with his lips sweet on your neck, with the sheets soaked with his slick, with his spend leaking out of you—you do not want to have sex with Aventurine. You only want to hold him. You only want him to keep scenting you. You only want to scent him back.

You only want him to feel safe.

You breathe in deeply, lungs flooded by honey. You think of what it felt like to hold him in that cold basement, when he was delirious with fever and pain, and you think about how different his scent is now. How much sweeter it is. How much calmer he feels.

“Do you feel better?” you ask, and he doesn't respond, but you know the answer. His hands come up to dig into your shirt, and he presses into you like you're a sweater in his nest. Silence blankets over you both, calm and warm. His laboured breath starts to improve.

He does eventually speak.

“Has anyone ever told you,” he says, “what you smell like?”

You stare at him. Your master used to say that you smelled good, but he'd never elaborated, and you hadn't wanted him to. “No.”

Aventurine breathes in.

“You smell like—” A little sigh, shaking and feverish, leaves him. “You smell like rain.”

Your eyebrows tick up. “Rain?”

“Yes. Or not just rain, but”—he pauses, next words quiet—“more Iike after it rains. You smell like the desert after a rainfall.”

“Oh.” You don't know what to say to that. Feeling distinctly like it's a silly question, you ask, “Is that a good scent?”

“Some would think so. Especially to people from the desert. You probably smell like a blessing to them. Although…”

Aventurine goes quiet again. You stare at the chandelier above you, all crystal and white gold, and wait.

“Although?” you prompt.

“...although I wouldn't really know,” he says. “It’s just a hunch. I bet it's why so many omegas on this planet like you.”

You couldn't care less about those other omegas. All you care about is Aventurine. “And?” you say. “Do you like my scent?”

His reply never comes. He just breathes deeply again, seeking relief from your neck—not intimacy. Any alpha’s scent would work; that doctor told you so. Any alpha’s touch would work, too. There are no special feelings involved here. Your place in the world is one of a tool, and tools are never especially liked nor disliked. Their value exists only in how they can be used.

You don't know why you even bothered to ask the question.

But then something strange happens: Aventurine curls against you, pressing even further into you. His lashes flutter against your pulse again; it ticks up in response, beating fast against his lips.

“I do,” he says quietly. “I do like it.”

You swallow. “But I guess that's because you're in heat. Any alpha would smell good to you, wouldn’t they?”

“No.” His fingers dig into the fabric of your shirt. “No, I like it because it's yours.”

You know better than to read too much into his response. Aventurine had already said it earlier: No foreign scents. He's only tolerating this whole arrangement because you don't smell unfamiliar to him. Only able to use you because you are the least threatening option.

But the words break something in you—break the thing that made you unable to throw out that little pouch of copper coins that you were saving up for Kakavasha’s freedom, the part of you that made you wear that carbon-steel mask for him. It is this part of you that has your eyes squeezing shut and your arms wrapping around him. You know he’ll recoil, reject you, but just this once—you need to try.

Aventurine doesn't push you away.

He melts into you instead, inhaling deeply. Your scent gland tingles with the warmth of his breath, the feeling of his lips. He seems—comfortable.

You can't fathom why he’s staying in your arms. Perhaps he's simply desperate for some kind of relief from his heat, just like when you held him in the basement while he was delirious from pain. But Aventurine had spoken to you with clarity just now, and his skin doesn't feel scalding so much as warm, and his scent is so different than from that moment. So sweet and so gentle, without a trace of fear. It makes your heart squeeze. As much as you've always wanted Aventurine to feel safe, you'd never imagined that his scent would be so beautiful when he is.

It makes your heart ache. You've never held anything so lovely before, and you’ve never felt so warm before, and it all makes up for how badly it hurt to let Aventurine inside you. How hollow it made you feel to let him use you. How none of that matters as long as you can keep him safe like this, because you belong to Kakavasha. You'll always belong to Kakavasha, in a fate that was chosen for you on the day you met him.

You're his, always his—even if he’ll never want you.

end part i

thank you so much to lore for hosting a fantastic collab and to my sponsors who funded this fic and got it over the finish line! please go check out @ficsforgaza to find other amazing hsr writers you can sponsor in order to help fundraise! here is my own wip list, if you are interested in seeing more from me!

and thank you most of all to YOU! I appreciate you so much for reading this chapter. thank you so much for sticking it through.

additional end notes

#彡 favorites.#cw slavery #cw racism #cw violence #cw sa mention #the first sentence with the block letters ): it says I’ve always love you ??? gonna go cry now (I already did last night)#‘your eyes went soft. beneath the artificial fragrance / you finally caught a hint of his family scent’ ‘the way it always is when he’s #scared.’ THIS LINE BROKE MY HEART. his facade is not facading . WE KNOW. WE WILL ALWAYS KNOW #‘nothing of value’ god dammit aventurine i want to shake his shoulders so bad. this is killing me #OMG THE COIN PURSE PART. THE READER IS SO SWEET )))))): OMG. I remember the face I made at that part /pos and I did tear up quite a bit #‘you never let me do my job’ YEAH. what’s up with that ????????? aventurine u turd. I WANT HIM TO LET US LOVE HIM SOOOO BAD HGGGRRRRRRRRRRR #‘no im actually a great liar. you’re just too good at reading me. it’s very inconvenient you know.’ okay i don’t know how to explain how i #feel. but can I say I heard this perfectly in his voice ? and it made me react some way. like jaw fell open kind of way. your characteriza #UGH I HATE THE TAG LIMIT characterization** IS SO GOOD I CAN HEAR EVERYTHING IN MY HEAD it’s like a movie is playing in my brain mhm mhm!!!#also the part where we keep repeating aventurine over and over and he keeps talking about what he could buy ): LISTEN TO MMMMMEMEEEEEEEHHRH #‘it went against every instinct not to touch him’ THIS IS WHAT I MEANT in my word dump )): trying so hard but so conflicted because #as an alpha you can make it better for him. but he doesn’t want that so u respect it. but he’s in so much pain ): UGHHHHHHHHHH #the sweater part . are you serious /pos. this is such a cute little detail ): I’m gonna start sobbing again can we give him the world #‘everything smells like you’ im sorry 😭 we don’t have much to work with mr aventurine BUT HE SAID ‘I don’t mind it’ SO🥺🥺🥺#‘copper’ ‘they want it for the copper’ the way I started laughing because r u serious . I’m actually a little . brow twitched. BROW TWITCHE #oh okay the copper! right. the copper. (the table flips over) be so fr rn /pos #the entire wrist scene I read with one hand over an eye and also hidden under my blankets because I was so tense HEJDKCKJCKD #‘aventurine would rather die than be owned again’ my heart shattered into pieces at this btw #him still remembering the pass to the muzzle ): and the ‘are you leaving’ im literally gonna cry all over again /pos #the neck scent gland fucked me up so bad. and the rain scent. and he likes it because it’s ours . x _ x / T_T #i have thoughts about your other fic but I will probably write them tomorrow because now I would like to re-re-re-read this one 😅#I’ve always loved * for the first tag dammit I can’t imagine how many typos are in this whole thing #TLDR : great work !!! loved this > < <33

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tpwk-formula1 · 2 months ago

Note

lando, gluten free, red sauce, onions, chicken, gouda cheese, mozzarella, pulled pork, kale with a sprite, black tea and green tea with dessert please <3

im imagining reader working for his team and they can't stand each other but always end up in each others beds somehow, he catches her flirting w another guy and although he usually wouldn't care for some reason he gets really jealous and has to remind her he's the only one that can have her ? do w this as you wish hehe

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

gluten-free enemies to lovers red sauce rough sex onions "I saw you being a little slut" chicken "Awe, you thought I'd let you cum that easy?" gouda “Slow down? You just told me to speed up, make up your mind silly girl” mozzarella “All you ever do is bitch and complain, just fucking take it” pulled pork "God, I love when I fuck the attitude out of you" kale "I love knowing I ruined you so good you can only cum when I make you" sprite size kink black tea choking green tea doggy dessert yes served by Lando Norris

Lando x fem! reader

TW - MEAN ASF Lando, crying, choking, 2 ass slaps, creampie, ROUGH sex, honestly just all the warnings :) MDNI 18+

WC 3000+ (sorry I got really into this one!)

Y/N POV

"Lando, you have filming for Quadrant today," I remind Lando softly making him roll his eyes.

"i know my own damn schedule," Lando snapped making me roll my eyes back at him.

"Then why do you need a fucking assistant," I say while throwing my hands up in defeat.

"I don't fucking know. I thought it would be a good idea, instead, I got stuck with you," Lando snapped back making me roll my eyes and get everything together that Lando would need for the Quadrant video.

"I love to see you try and live a week without me hounding on your ass," I snap back while placing Lando's backpack by the front door so he didn't forget it while also getting his lunch together knowing he would leave without eating if I didn't do it.

"I'm a grown man, I can take care of myself," Lando snapped back making me roll my eyes.

"Okay, give me the rest of the week off. I'll be back Monday morning and if you survived then I'll quit no questions asked, but if you don't then you will learn how to respect me and not be an absolute dick to me," I tell him while pulling his food back down onto the counter no longer preparing him food.

"Deal. It's Thursday which means I only have to survive 4 days, I can manage," Lando replied back making me smile and head to the front door to leave.

"Bye, don't be scared to call when you inevitably need help," I say while exiting and heading back to my own apartment.

I spent the rest of my day relaxing and enjoying my time away from Lando knowing tomorrow was gonna be a new day and he was probably gonna call tomorrow when he realized my job wasn't useless like he always liked to claim.

It was Friday at noon and by now I would normally be with Lando planning what his next week would look like but instead, I'm laying out on a yacht with Oscar.

Oscar and I had always been close. We both started the same year and both bonded over being so young working for McLaren and further bonded when I would rant to him about how Lando was treating me.

"Hold on I'm getting a call," I sit up softly picking up my phone to see who was calling.

I showed Oscar the caller ID making both of us smirk and laugh softly.

"Couldn't even go 24 hours," Oscar mutters making me laugh a little harder before I answer the call.

"Why are you with him," Lando seethed the second I answered my phone.

"Oh, quit it Lando. Do you need me or are you just interrupting my weekend off," I snap back at him having no patience for his jealous ass.

"Get your ass back to my apartment," Lando snapped back making me roll my eyes.

"Lando if this isn't for work related issues then I will not be coming over until I am done hanging out with my friend," I reply back emphasizing the word friend.

"Y/N I swear to God if you don't get you ass to my apartment in the next hour you will lose your job," Lando said back.

"And you're gonna tell Zak what exactly? 'I want her removed from my team cause she was hanging out with Oscar and I was a jealous twat who couldn't get my dick wet.' Sounds real mature Lando Norris. I will come over later tonight," I tell him finalizing my plan before hanging up on him before he could say anything else.

"I don't understand why you won't make it official," Oscar says with a raised brow making me raise my brow mirroring his actions.

"He's inmature and doesn't know what he wants," I tell Oscar softly climbing back onto the couch so Oscar and I can continue soaking up the sun.

"I just know he's call Max to use his yacht right now to track your ass down," Oscar says with a smirk making me laugh.

"Probably," I reply honestly.

"You ever gonna put him out of his misery and become his?" Oscar asks making me think hard before answering.

"I don't know. Definitely not until he starts respecting my work," I tell Oscar softly making him nod his head.

"I think that's fair. Maybe this weekend will open his eyes to realize how much you do for him. Going above and beyond what is in your job description," Oscar replies back making me smile, happy he understands.

"Hell, I too wouldn't want to share you if you prepared my lunches, made sure I had time allotted for a break, and spent the night in my bed," Oscar says smirking at the last part making me roll my eyes.

Oscar and I had a teasing relationship closer to siblings than lovers and it was refreshing to be close with someone in this crazy life we both live.

"You're an ass for that, Piastri," I say while laughing softly.

We spent the rest of the afternoon tanning and enjoying each others calm presence before we decided to dock and head back to our individual apartments.

"Better not find out I'm gonna be an uncle in 4 to 6 weeks," Oscar says with a smirk across his face making me roll my eyes and close the door to my apartment while Oscar walks the rest of the way to his.

Lando, Oscar and I all live in the same building making it easy to have group dinners or see each other when we are getting bored or lonely.

I hadn't even been back to my own room for 5 minutes when I hear a pounding on my front door making me roll my eyes knowing it could only be one person making such a scene.

"Open the door," I hear Lando say in a sing-song voice being far more menacing than I would prefer.

"What is your damn problem," I snap when I swing open the door making Lando shove his way through the door before taking my neck into his big hands and squeezing choking me slightly while he pushes me against the door.

"I saw you being a little slut. All cuddled up with Oscar in the middle of the water," Lando says getting closer to my face and showing me just how upset he is.

"You know damn well it's not like that," I snap back getting just as angry at him.

"Do I know that though? Cause between fans spying on yall and your own snap story it looks like you were dressed into next to nothing cuddled right up to Oscar's side," Lando scoffs back squeezing my throat a bit tighter making it more difficult to breathe.

"You're ridiculous you know that," I say while gripping his wrist trying to pry his grip off of me. Lando finally releases my neck but quickly grips my hard into a death grip and yanks me through my apartment where he dumps me near the bed.

I was on the floor when Lando situates me onto my knees before he quickly pulls his pants down with his briefs leaving his hard cock to bounce freely between us.

"Don't make me fucking tell you want to do," Lando snaps when I make no move to take him into my mouth,

"You're pathetic," I mutter softly before I take Lando into my mouth. I knew he heard me when his hands were on the back of my head again pushing his whole length into my throat making me gag and instantly start to tear up.

"I'm fucking pathetic? You're the one crying on my cock less than 10 seconds after giving it to you. Bet your fucking pussy is weeping too," Lando says while holding my head in place and brutally fucking into my mouth making me repetitively take him into my mouth. Once Lando has fucked my face for a few seconds he shoves his whole length into my mouth and holding me on his cock for several seconds making me gag and cry around his cock hitting his hips trying to get away from his brutal attack.

Once Lando pulls out of my mouth I yank my head away best as possible while I gasp and cough for air.

"Not so rough," I whisper softly through my hoarse voice.

Lando just pulls me back onto his cock and starts fucking my face again. Still rough but nowhere near as rough as he had been.

“All you ever do is bitch and complain, just fucking take it,” Lando grunts while still pumping his cock into my mouth. I can feel my tears have completely soaked my cheeks and my own spit in starting to trail down the front of my neck making me look like a proper used-up whore.

"God, I love destroying you," Lando says smirking when he pulled me off his cock leaving me to heave in heavy breaths while he stared down at my ruined face.

"Look most beautiful when you're wrapped around my cock," Lando whispers with a smirk before softly biting my earlobe making me whimper at the feeling.

Lando helps me to my feet where he quickly pulls the swim suit cover I was wear off leaving me in my bikini I had been wearing. I cringed slightly when Lando was eyeing my bikini.

"Turn around," Lando says roughly making me turn in curiousity. When Lando got a view of my ass he instantly slapped it leaving a large hand print behind.

"For someone who says Oscar and you aren't more than friends you're leaving far too little for his imagination. You think sweet little Oscar could destroy your pussy even half as good as me," Lando says stepping closer to my back making me rest softly against him.

"No Lando, only you. You literally fucking ruined me for anyone else," I cry out in confession. It had been true, ever since Lando and I got involved I hadn't been able to finish with anyone but Lando. Even my trusted vibrator was now useless.

"Oh is that true?" Lando says clearly a smirk laced in his voice.

"Yes, I literally can't even make myself cum anyone," I confess in pure annoyance at the situation.

"I love knowing I ruined you so good you can only cum when I make you," Lando says while turning me back around so I can see his face.

"I hate you," I whisper back.

"That's a fucking lie and we both know it," Lando whispered back getting closer to my mouth before finishing his sentence by kissing my lips.

I whimper into the rough kiss when I feel Lando start pulling at the strings of my bikini leaving me completely bare for Lando's rough hands to continue to explore my body.

When I feel Lando's large hands grip my ass I whimper out that quickly turns into a strangled cry when he roughly lands a slap on my ass.

"That side was jealous," Lando says smirking against my lips.

Lando roughly pulls his shirt off leaving him completely naked before he roughly throws me onto the bed where I bounce a couple times before Lando is gripping onto my foot and pulling me into him where he is kneeling on the ground next to the bed.

My pussy was now at face level with Lando who wastes absolutely no time to pull my clit into his mouth and start eating me out like a starved man.

"Oh fuck Lan," I moan softly when I feel Lando slowly slip two fingers into my pussy.

"Fuck, so fucking sweet," Lando groans before standing up and towering over my body and spitting into my mouth making me gasp in shock.

"Fuck I love when you're like this," Lando groans getting back onto his knees and continuing to eat my pussy out like a starved man. When he puts his fingers back into my pussy he's not nearly as gentle this time. He quickly shoves them in finding my G-spot with no trouble and attacking it.

"Oh my god Lando," I scream out and clench around him in preparation for the orgasm I can feel building in the pit of my stomach.

"Please Lan," I moan when I can feel myself on the edge of cumming. But instead of Lando giving me permission like I thought he would he rips his fingers and mouth away ripping my orgasm away with them.

"Lando what the actual fuck," I heave sitting up slightly only to be pushed back down.

"Awe, you thought I'd let you cum that easy?" Lando says with a smirk making me want to slap him across the face. Instead I just clench my hands at my side.

"Lando please," I finally beg out when I calmed down. Lando didn't say anything he just roughly flipped me onto my stomach before he pulled me onto all fours and pushed his dick into me.

Lando gave me no time to adjust, he just quickly started fucking into my tight pussy making me whimper.

"Too big," I gasp when I finally find my voice making Lando speed up his actions on my pussy.

"You can fucking take it," Lando says snapping his hips into mine making me whimper at the hard thrusts.

Lando pulls me up by me hair so he was still fucking into me but my back was now pressed against his chest where he moves his hand from my hair to my neck and giving it a hard squeeze making my eyes tear up again from the choking.

"Close," I gasp in a stranged moan not being able to breathe fully.

"Cum on my cock," Lando roughly states making me instatly start cumming all over his cock.

"Fuck Lando," I moan through my orgasm while Lando squeezes hard on my throat completely cutting my airflow off as I'm cumming only making it that much more intense. When my orgasm ended only then did Lando release my throat making me gasp for air.

"Lando," I scream when he continues to fuck into me as I fall out of his arms and back into doggy position.

"Please Lan, it's too much," I whine losing all fight I once had in my body.

"You can take it, love," Lando tells me softly while slowing his thrusts to let me catch my breath for a second.

"So pretty all fucked out," Lando mumbles before speeding his thrusts up and continuing to fuck into my overused pussy.

"Faster," I beg when I feel another orgasm starting to build up again. This one coming in far faster and stronger than the previous one.

"Cum for me," Lando grunts when he can feel my pussy clenching for another release. I instantly cum all over his cock again barely able to hold my body up anymore. I would have completely fallen into the bed had Lando not been holding me up by the hips.

Lando continues his hard and fast thrusts even after I have come down from my orgasm making me cry out again in overstimulation.

"Slow down," I scream out only making Lando speed up.

“Slow down? You just told me to speed up, make up your mind silly girl,” Lando grunts out before sending one final thrust into my pussy before I feel his hot cum start splashing my walls letting me know Lando was cumming deep into my pussy.

"Oh Lan," I gasp and fall half onto the bed while my legs dangle over the side. When Lando was slipping out of my pussy he made sure to pull out slowly to make sure to not overstimulate me further.

"Don't leave," I gasp when I watch Lando start retreating into the bathroom making him turn around and lock eyes with me.

"I'm gonna leave you. I'm just gonna grab something to clean you up," Lando tells me softly before disappearing into my bathroom and grabbing a rag before coming back into my room and cleaning my sore pussy up softly.

"Hurts Lan," I whine when he brushes against my sensitive clit with the rough rag.

"I'm sorry," Lando mumbles sheepishly.

I feel Lando observing me while I slowly climb into bed properly getting under my covers and pulling my blanket up to my chin as I watch Lando throw on his boxers before picking up his shirt and softly placing it on me.

"Thanks," I reply softly as Lando climbs into the bed next to me.

"God, I love when I fuck the attitude out of you. Now you're sitting here all pretty and blissed out," Lando tells me softly making me smile up at him.

"I don't like the way you dismiss my work," I tell him softly finally opening up about my feelings.

"I could barely survive today, please come to work with me tomorrow," Lando says turning his body towards me so I can look at him.

"Fine, but you better start having some respect for me all the time, not just during post nut clarity," I tell him back making him blush just thinking about what just transpired between us.

"And you owe me a plan B I promised Osc he wouldn't become an uncle in 4 to 6 weeks," I tell Lando making the both of us start laughing.

"Deal, and I promise from now on I promise I'll stop being condescending and undermining you. I realized how much you really do for me. I didn't eat until dinner cause I forgot about a meeting and had no time to grab anything," Lando confesses making me smile and laugh lightly.

"Didn't even realize I was such a pain that you were feeding me too," Lando admits hiding his face in my neck due to embarrassment.

"And I wanna work on us. I wanna build a better friendship between us so one day I can make you mine," Lando says once he pulls his face from my neck.

"I would like that Lando," I admit softly before pulling his face close to mine and giving him a soft kiss.

"I wanna keep doing this though and maybe sometimes not so rough," I tell Lando making him break out into a blushing smile.

"Deal. I would love to spend my time worshipping your body," Lando tells me softly making me turn red.

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2knightt · 2 years ago

Note

IM SORRY, I KNOW U GOT A REQUEST ON THIS SO MUCH ALREADY BUT…

Your motherly!reader fics are so good 😭! can you pleasee do another? platonic with the gang!! no romance 🥰 thank youu ❤️❤️❤️ your work is amazing btw!

the gang x motherly!reader

!warnings!

1.i did headcanons i hope thats okay😭

2.fem!reader

3.swearing and a small mention of violence.

Johnny Cade ;

like i’ve said before in other fics, he loves you so much.

honestly, you might be one of his favourite people!

when he walks down the street and he just so happens to see a cute flower, he picks it and gives it to you!

when he first met you, he refused to see you when he was injured in anyway. he thought you’d think he was weak and never see him again.

but as time went on, and you showed that you genuinely cared for him, he showed more of his vulnerable side.

johnny likes it when you patch him up now!

he thinks it’s calming, relaxing, and a, ‘nice change of things rather than lettin’ mother nature cure it.’

when he unknowingly/accidentally vents to you about his home life, he does get embarrassed.

he didn’t want you knowing, but when you hugged him real tight and told him sweet nothings?? he teared up ngl.

johnny wishes you could’ve been his mom.

when or if you have kids, johnny wishes they don’t take the, ‘how was your day?’ and the, ‘how’s school going?’ for granted.

because to johnny cade, that would be his perfect fairytale.

having someone as sweet as you to turn his life around, makes him excited to see tomorrow.

Dallas Winston ;

another bitch with mommy issues who is glad to have you.

mrs.curtis was definitely the mother he never had but always wanted and when she died, he was devastated.

but when you came along and started being that mother he missed??? he was both annoyed and over the moon.

he didn’t like that every time you bailed him out of jail, he got an ear full. however, he did like to know verbally that someone cared about him

he doesn’t show you any sort of affection, but he will tell you how he feels when drunk.

“thank you, so much y/n. i-i don’t know where i’d be without you.”

for mothers day, he doesn’t do anything special.

BUT—you didn’t hear this from me, before the clock hits 12, expect to hear like a cute little knock at your door, and open it to see a single flower on the ground with a pack of cigarettes.

dally ran off before you or anyone else could see him.

even though he didn’t sign his name, you knew it was from him. so, next time you see him, say thank you.

Ponyboy Curtis ;

he’s like a toddler around you???

ponyboy definitely pretends to be like, your own bodyguard.

but really, who’s scared of ponyboy?

he tries though!

when he watches a movie and some character reminds him of you, expect that to be the first thing he tells you.

“ya know, when i went to the drive in, you really reminded of this one character.”

“oh? why’s that?”

“well because-“

and now you have to sit there and listen to him.

he’ll draw for you so much :(.

if you tell him your favourite flower, he WILL give you a drawing of it the next day. he’ll stay up all night if he has too!

Sodapop Curtis ;

he’s literally your #2 fan. first place goes to johnny.

he’s your biggest hypeman??? omg???

“gee, y/n! you’re lookin’ real fancy!! gonna get all the guys, eh?”

when ponyboy and darry argue and he just can’t take it anymore, he calls you and asks to come over.

and of course, you say yes everytime.

so please, PLEASE, just let him cry into your arms!!!!

when he’s done, he’ll try to go home but i’m begging you to tell him he’s welcomed to stay the night.

and if he does stay? ponyboy will be at your doorstep too.

he’ll share his famous chocolate cake with you!! he’ll make sure steve doesn’t touch it.

“STEVE THAT WAS FOR Y/N! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!”

“OH SHIT SHIT SHIT! WE MAKE MAKE ONE TOGETHER! THE MORE PEOPLE THE FASTER THE CAKE WILL BAKE RIGHT?!”

“DO I LOOK LIKE A SCIENTIST??”

Darry Curtis ;

he is so thankful for you i legit can’t stress that enough.

you keep the gang in check, you keep ponyboy happy, and you help him around the house. what more could he ask for?

you legit force darry to relax while you look after the gang to make sure nothing bad happens.

“we��ll be fine, darry. go to bed, your dark circles are gettin’ darker by the minute.”

“yeah super-man! we’ll be fine with y/n!”

“yeah!!”

“fine, but if she wakes me up to tell me about any of you, so god help me.”

if you welcome him home with a newspaper and his favourite cup of coffee after a long day at work, he might ask you to move in.

Steve Randle ;

steve pretends that he doesn’t like you that much.

but he really does. like, the second he hears some soc threaten or insult you? he’s after them.

shit, he might be chasin’ after them in two-bits car while two-bit yells at the person.

he will legit go to war for you if you asked him nicely.

he will rant to you about cars if you let him😭.

he’ll rant to you about anything, honestly.

“and then the old bastard asked for a refund! the ‘no refunds’ sign was right on the door! how could that old bat not see it?!”

“steve! don’t call people that, but yes, it was very rude of that man to do that too you.”

“RIGHT?!”

Two-bit Matthews ;

he forces you to relax and watch mickey mouse with him.

he says it’s for your own good but when really, he just wants to spend time with you without the gang interrupting.

“guys! you’re stressing her out with all your STUPID questions! c’mon, y/n, mickey mouse is calling our names. can’t you hear it?”

“or maybe its the booze you had at 10AM.”

“i will sock you in your fucking throat steve.”

he plays with your hair…he finds it fun!

please tell him how to do some styles so he can go home and impress his little sister :(.

he offers you beer every once and awhile just so he can say he got you to loosen up.

“so y/n…you want some?”

“oh! no thank you, two. you know i don’t drink.”

he calls you mom in a joking way, ya dig?

“momm! steve called me a dumbass!”

“steve, be nice! apologize.”

“what the fuck?!”

author notes ;

1. i like totally rushed near the end LMFAO.

2. i never thought you bitches would eat motherly!reader up like this??

3.are you guys okay??

4.THANK U SWEETHEART OMFG??

5.i think theres no romance??

may 15th, 2023. 6:39PM

#2knightt #the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #dallas x reader #dallas winston x reader #johnny x reader #johnny cade x reader #ponyboy x reader #ponyboy curtis x reader #sodapop x reader #sodapop curtis x reader #steve x reader #steve randle x reader #two bit x reader #two bit matthews x reader #platonic the outsiders #motherly!reader

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whorefordean · 1 year ago

Note

can you do 17 with jj maybank from the hurt/comfort prompts? I love your writing sm <33

to lie with you in the dark j.m

pairing: jj maybank x reader

word count: 1k

warnings: none i think? sad reader but that’s about it

prompt: “im just so sad.” “what can i do?” “just be here.”

a/n: i did not proofread this and it’s late so there’s probably mistakes lol i hope you enjoy

the sound of your friends laughing filling the restaurant brought a small smile to your face, though it only lasted for a few seconds before it inevitably fell. you were meant to be joining them after clocking out from your shift, but you didn’t feel like socializing at the moment.

you approached the table causing everyone to turn to look at you with smiling faces. you offered a soft smile in return.

“hey, guys, i think i’m just gonna go on and head home. i’m exhausted,” you told the group, not bothering to slide into your usual spot beside jj. you avoided his gaze, instead opting to look at the girls who were currently pouting at you.

“we can hang our tomorrow. promise,” you compromised. the girls nodded in agreement and said their goodbyes. jj stood to give you a kiss on your cheek.

“you okay, baby?” he whispered in your ear as he pulled you into a hug. you nodded softly, though it was a lie. you could feel the tears burning behind your eyes, and your throat ached so terribly that you didn’t trust your voice to come out evenly.

instead, you blinked back your tears and gave jj your best smile. he seemed convinced enough and pressed one final kiss to your head. you pressed a kiss to jj’s shoulder then left the restaurant. as you approached your car, you couldn’t hold off the tears any longer. there was no actual reason you were crying. work was fine like usual. no rude customers. no unfortunate mishaps that resulted in injury. but the unforgiving ache in your chest was eating you alive.

the drive back to your house was silent, aside from the sniffling that echoed through your car. the heavy rain pounded against your windshield, not letting up as you pulled into your driveway and exited the car. in no rush, you made your way inside, the freezing rain making you shiver.

the house was dark when you entered though you weren’t surprised. everything felt dark lately.

quiet footsteps echoed throughout the house as you slowly drifted towards your bedroom to gather some clean clothes. after deciding on your comfiest pair of pajamas, you slowly wandered into the bathroom to shower. after undressing and stepping into the shower, you allowed the hot water to run down your back, loosening the tension resting between your shoulders.

without warning, a loud sob racked through your body. you allowed yourself to wail shamelessly into the dim room. unbeknownst to you, the front door was still unlocked from when you had arrived earlier allowing jj to enter with no problems.

he had left the restaurant only a few minutes after you. call it a gut feeling. he had let himself into your home, and immediately, his heart broke. your loud sobs echoed through your otherwise quiet home.

jj quickly made his way upstairs to your bedroom, only to be disappointed when he saw it was empty. his attention quickly focused on the rushing water, and he moved to your bathroom.

he tapped his knuckles against the wooden door, hoping you’d hear him as he didn’t want to scare you. jj sighed when he heard you continue to sob instead of answering. he slowly opened the door and let himself into your bathroom. jj pulled the curtain back, revealing himself to you.

however, his presence was still unknown to you due to your face being buried in your hands. jj frowned as he watched the water beating down on your back, so hot that your skin had turned bright red.

he slowly turned the water down, allowing it to cool for a few moments before taking his muddy boots off and stepping in otherwise fully clothed.

warm arms wrapped around you, causing you to jump and a small yelp to escape your lips. your eyes immediately found jj’s and you leaned into him, allowing him to hold you up just as your knees buckled.

“what’s wrong, baby?” jj cooed softly into your ear, holding you tight.

“i’m just so sad, jj,” you wept softly. you nails were digging into jj’s arms as you burrowed your face into his shoulder.

“what can i do? tell me how to make it better,” jj begged desperately. it was torture to see his girl hurting so much. he felt helpless as you clutched onto him, crying into his soaked shirt.

“just be here. just need you to be here, j,” you plead to your boyfriend. jj help you tighter upon hearing your request.

“i’m right here. i’ll always be right here with you,” jj promised. he brushed some of your wet hair away from your face, prompting you to look up at him.

“let’s get out, okay. you need to rest,” jj instructed. you nodded and allowed him to turn off the water and help you out of the shower.

jj helped dry you off and get you dressed. pulling the covers down, he watched as you slipped underneath them. a frown formed on your tear-stained face as you watched him start to walk away.

“i’m just going to change, sweetheart. i’ll be right back,” jj laughed softly while rifling through the spare drawer of your dresser filled with his clothes. he left to change and quickly reappeared, tossing his clothes and yours into the hamper in the corner of the room. jj flicked off the lights. the moonlight drifted in through the blinds. it was quiet.

jj laid down beside you, quickly pulling your body closer to him. with your head resting on jj’s broad chest, you mumbled a soft “thank you” while jj played with your wet hair.

“don’t thank me for caring. i’ll be here to lie with you in the dark, always. it’s what you deserve, and i know if the roles were reversed you’d do the same thing for me,” jj mumbled back as he placed soft kisses to the top of your head. instead of answering, you lightly nodded and kissed jj’s chest, right above his heart.

#jj maybank fluff #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank obx #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank angst #jj maybank hurt/comfort #jj maybank outer banks #outer banks #obx

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sounds-void-fishy · 9 months ago

Text

ik i said i was gonna sleep but then fanfic and my cat nemesis screaming. anyways thinking about how ever since i was a teen ive not wanted to have kids but wanted to foster teens cause id be too scared to fuck a kid up but my set of skills has always been on track to being that of someone good at fostering teens.

and like. idk being maggot granddyke has rlly scratched that itch? especially with the idea of maggot summer camp? i am so so so full of care. being able to teach and help and support. this is all stuff i always wanted to do. this is what i was trying to do school to. and im so grateful that i get to.

i think a lot about this elderly dyke when i worked at an old folks home who toasted me when i told her how honoured i was.

i think about the kids at my high school who tomorrow afternoon are having a st patricks day party with my mom because she is one of the adult supervision and how i started that pride club nine years ago and how having a legacy at 24 is beautiful and terrifying

i think about my roommates when i moved into my current place who were like seven and ten years older than me and declared themselves my parents, at a time when i was freshly out of inpatient and floating at best

i think about the actor at sleep no more, and me crying from the beauty of the connection of queerness

i think about a friend of mine who was a youth leader at my congregation when i was in high school who i thought was nonbinary when i first met them. they didnt realise until quite a bit later. they are one of my dearest friends now

i think about the only time i went to summer camp, a week of leadership camp. it was the first place nobody knew my birth name. where i used just they/them pronouns. it was the first place i learned of the beauty of physical platonic intimacy, where we would all cuddle, or be close while playing cards or reading my immortal

i think of all of us holding hands across the years and the time and the space. in my heart and my mind there is a hangmans tree, from peter pan. the inside is all hollow and infinitely large and there is space for all those i love.

in my soul we are at summer camp and i am yearning so deeply for that to be real in whatever way i can make it

#fuck theres an angels quote #the sould of these departed joined hands clasped ankles and formed a web a great net of sould #and the souls were three atom oxygen molecules of the stuff of ozone #and the outer rim absorbed them and was repaired #nothings lost forever #in this world theres a kid of painful progress #jehangel tag #maggot taggot #maggot summer camp

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thecapricunt1616 · 5 months ago

Text

The Bear S3 Capri Live React

WARNING! Spoilers for each episode below the cut!

EP 1 - “Tomorrow”

ASSHFBEJNSNDNEJWNENE AND WHEN IM BACK IN CHICAGO I FEEL ITTT!!!!!! WOOOOOO

CARMY HRJEJWJW YOU'RE OUT OF FREEZER JAIL MY LOVE!!

Oh your poor hand I wanna kiss it, my sweet baby :((

Omg it’s filmed so differenttttt AAAAAA!!!!

Zaddy walked in meaning business lets gOOO

Like I said in TB&HH and many of my one shots this is a STUNNING restaurant - like FUCK!!! Carmy is BRILLIANT !!

Carmen RELAX!! Jesus! With punting the chair!

Omg his notebook from The French Laundry!!! Cute

BRBEBSHSBSNSBSBSBSBSEBVELHCAA LUCAAAAAAA

COPENHAGEN OH MY GO FJEJWBDBD WERE BACK

OHRBE WE ARE SO BACK

New Yorks got everything :( OH this seeaaason is gonna rip my heart to shreeeeeds New York destroyed him.

Oh I think we are getting loads of baby chef Carmy FUCK

Oh god oh god 'subtract'??? Fuuuuck

I would hate how perfect he always is HAHAHAHA I would haaaate working with him!!!!

Cousin Steve took care of him, I'm glad someone did 🥺

Oh fucking for Carmy to kiss me like that

The kiss on the nose is everything I want to do in life

SORRY. THE WORDS OMG GOOD BOY GOOD BOY

OMG SYDCARMY KISS KISSKISSKISSIIISSS

“It’s never gonna happen again” he will die before it happens

Good apologize to Richie you FUCKING IDIOT and good for saying I’m sorry good for saying I love you. Good boy. Good boy.

He is about to make everyone miserable.

“I know you are, honey” that is his real mother figure.

While Mikey was dying Richie was destroying his marriage trying to save him and Carmy was getting verbally abused in New York. I am…gutted!

I have thought about Carmy finding out about Mike. I never. Fucking. Thought. They. Would. Show it.

ARE WE SEEING MIKES

WE ARE OH NY FJEBE WE ARE SEEING MICHAELS FUCKING OH HIS FUNERAL HE SAT. OUTSIDE. OH I AM COOKED THIS SEASON I AM C O O K E D !!!!!

“LET IT RIP BEAR” OH FHEJWBDBDB

Like a mother Nat snuck the money in his pocket. I’m fuckin CRYYYING BRO THIS SEASON IS GONNA GUT ME

The best meal Syd has ever had 🥹

The fennel makes him think of Syd because she has an allergy I’m gonna stroke out.

EP1 ; Final Thoughts - SydCarmy is SO happening if it doesn’t what the fuck are they doing. Baby Carmy is gutting me. I hope Luca doesn’t go away after this episode. Mikey. Oh, Mikey :(((. Natalie? The cinematography - oh I’m about to EAT w these fics. Oh my god.I am fucking GUUTTTEEDDD THIS SEASON IS GOING TO DESTROY ME

EP2 - “Next”

SYD! MY GORL THERE YOU ARE BBY!!!

the AirPod falling out is so real

Lmaoooo her dad !! She is absolutely moving out as soon as she can

Awww the ‘love you chef’ <3

See this music like shut up SydCarmy or bust!!! lmaooooo

Why is the fourth wall being broken???

His anxiety is so insane he is acting cracked out LMAO

CICERO OH NO - this is gonna be INSANE

Carmy needs to step off Syds dick and give her some control lmfaooo - like ? you don’t even own this place little man.

“Technique is spelt wrong but OK” BYE THIS IDIOTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

“You know buddy, I tried to call in and get you an order but they says you was back in the fridge yelling at yourself” LMFOAAOAOAO VJKFDNVLAKNLKVN I AM CRYING HE IS I LOVE UNC SO MUCH

everyone is asking him why the fuck he’s doing this and he cant say “because i cant stick my dick in syd” so he doesn’t know what to say.

He’s quitting smoking not for his health but to save … time. Alright then.

“The computer drafted the agreement so make sure you have a lawyer look at it” CAAAACKLING

DAAAAADDDYYYY RICHIEEEE

Carmen shut the fuck up you are in no position for fuck yous.

“I commend your bravery from inside a locked vault” IM DRFNDJSNENN HAHAHAHA GET HIM RICH

“Oh my god am I finally having a stroke?” “Am I having a stroke?” These POOR WOMEN SOMEONE PUT CARMEN ON A FUCKING LEASH

“I insist that you get fucked my good man” BYEEEEE HAHAHAHAHAHA RICHIE IS TOO FUNNY

They are bickering like BITCHES

his ego needs to be stroked lmaoooo he’s asking Syd to stroke his ego

“I know sweetheart, don’t be scared” NATALIEEEE HAHAHAH It's ok Fak I'M scared of Carmy rn lmao.

holy fucking shit Carmen you are driving me CRRAAAAZYY SHUT UP

“This is scary” FAK, HONEY I KNOW CARMY IS CRACKED OUT

“Every day Jeffery-Ballet?” TINA HAHAHAHA I LOVE THAT

This IS banana town sweetheart Fak

“Sup PIMP” PLEEEASE HAHAHA

“He was gonna tell us what he said to Claire”- Richie: “classic behavior dysregulation” PLLLEEASE

“Then I actually take it back, fuck you” i love Richie down

“What’s nunya” “nunya fuckin business” THE WAY IM CRRRY LAUGHINGGGGG LMFAAAAOOOOO THIS IS A GLIMPSE OF HIS CHILDHOOD

The gum chewing is sexy

“Is that what you did” “no i’m just here if you need anything” oh, Carmy :(

Oh, Marcus :((((((. “Take us there bear” “yes chef” oh my god I’m crying again

EP2 ; Final Thoughts - Carmen needs to fucking relax and I’m gonna say this probably a lot. Omg the fighting with Richie in this episode was pissing me off they are fighting like catty brothers!!! The moment with Marcus at the end really got to me. This was overall though a hilarious episode

EP3 - “Doors”

Marcus mom funeral!! Awww I’m glad they all are there for him. Thiiis is the moms funeral, ok, so they did it all in one day the shooting for both funerals so we wouldn’t know!!!

I wonder how Carm feels he’s there for Marcus’ mom but wasn’t for his brother

Wow this speech must be so impactful for Carmy to get a glimpse into someone else’s life like this

Look alive lizards we are OPENN

Richie is so goooodddd at his job 🥹🫶

For the bear and his honey fans princess cake is 100% going in there hahahah

Hmm things are going a bit too well

Carmy throwing so much good decent edible food away makes me twitch.

Carmy and his little edible flowers hahaha I love it

“The rare Transylvanian 5 titted goat?!” CICEROOO HAHAHAH

“Joy” “this is a waste of time, give it to sugar” HAHAHAHA

LMAOOO SINGING HAPPY BDAY IN SPANISH HAHAHA LOVE IT

Fak not putting it ON THE TABLE and Richie being like “keep my mans name out of your mouth “ PLLLELEEEASEE

Something abt Carmy cleaning is so hot

GRAAAHHH THAT PIECE OF BACK SKIN POKING OUT OF HIS SHIRT WHEN HE BENDS OVER

They’re being so too hard on tina :((

Richie is bringing patrons to the kitchen and Carmy is just violently bitching Syd out I am dead also, someone get the belt i’m gonna beat him.

This goes out to everyone who said there’s no chance the bear could fail and that it was a stupid idea it could? (cough- ex moots, cough) ; please tell me why they don’t even have a star and they’re already doing poorly with funds

I can’t- Carmen and Richie are fully going at each others throats and physically fighting.

Please Fak just grilling customers for info.

Carmy is SO little brother and I wanna choke him “we’ll figure it out” “ME?” “I’m trying to use less shiiittt >:(“ like a winey bitch - YOU ARE AN ADULT SHE IS THERE TO HELP YOU YOU LITTLE COCKSUCKER DO YOUR GOD DAMN JOB EFFICIENTLY

Carmy is losing it he needs to be medicated ASAP

Thank GOD Syd is putting her foot down and telling him to shut up

Syd looks fed the fuck up, rightfully

EP3 ; Final Thoughts - Holy shit Carmen is going nuts. Sydcarmy is going so hard rn he needs to finish shit with Claire so he can admit his feelings to himself about Syd. He needs to stop being so mean to her, he is going to cause her to panic. Whats so funny is I drafted Carmy bitching Syd out in my OC fic in the most recent chapter before this even came out (but in my world (in girl world) winnie is behind him chewing his ass out and literally told him he’s acting like his old boss) But it’s funny because hes literally telling her abusive ass shit his boss told him.

EP4 - “Violet”

Ohhhhh to kiss Carmy that way. A dream

The nose kiss oh my god oh my god

He’s such a good listener

He is so fucking - oh my god this man. This man. I need him astronomically

Marcus :(((

I love Syd’s scarf but also lmao the stress of that docu - I get you girl hahah

Yaaaay she’s moving!

This apartment is stunning!!!

DAD RICHIEEEE AHSHDJSHSHJ EVA OMG CUTIE PATTOOOTIEEE

Him laying with her is so cute.

“He’s not my uncle like Carmy” 🥹PLS SO CUTE

This is so good such kid convo omgggg kids are just like thissss!! He’s such a good dad omfg playing her handdddd fuckFUCKCJCKCJC expect more Richie content soon

DONNAS GOING TO TIFFS WEDDING OMG!!!!!

Yes daddy TAKE THAT RING OFF YOURE A NEW MAN PAPA

LMFAOAOAOA THEM SCREAMING HELP

“Maybe you’ve reached as far as your talent can go” makes MY stomach hurt, dawg

“I feel like Bear is starting to respect me” please the way they look up to him I cantttt lmao

YAY MORE DAD RICHIE

TAYLOR SWIFT!!!!!!!!!!

This Frank guy is weird- they made a great job at making this feel awkward as fuck.

HE DID INVITE HIM TO THE WEDDING OH GOD

that’s my girl!

Oh is she about to get poached

Oooo like not Carmy??? Oooooo hes trying to poach her

Marcus has such nicely manicured hands

The way they just stuff snacks in faks mouth to make him go away hahaha love it

Mmhmm this season will make me fall more in love with Richie then ever before

Richie. Richie. Richie. Richie. Richie. Oh my god. My heart is being ripped out

Wait they’re being reviewed for a star?! Already? They JUST opened!

EP4 ; Final Thoughts - This was SUCH a Richie episode! I loved it alot :))) <3!!! So many Dad!Richie moments that made me smile. He also almost made me cry with his whole being alone thing. I will remedy my sadness with writing Richie fics literally probably tomorrow because holy holy holy this man I need to give him kissesssssss

EP5 - “Children”

So do the Bears all have the same alarm clocks?

Marcus speech really touched Natalie :((

Carmen doing the boxes by himself HAHAHA its what he deserves!! BAD BOY!

Syd the ultimate good friend helping Marcus with his moms stuff

Syd looks so cute her outfit is adorable

Lmaooo Syd with her dead mom club jokes she’s too funny I see why Carmy is so whipped

The Bear and His Honey is going to fucking SLAP with this new Carmy content WOW

Him throwing away more food that is perfect literally perfect. *sarcasm*

I wanna leave hickeys on Richie’s neck so bad - it’s so pretty

Omg Carmys mentor closing the restaurant- he’s spiraling and looking at the every second counts she instilled in him- oh god.. Oh god-

Richie has grown so much im so so proud of him!

He is crushing on this girl from Ever so hard

IS THAT JOHN CENA?!

JOHN CENA IS A FAK I AM DBHSJABDBEBE HAHAHAHAH

Carmy is gonna get his legs broken if he doesn’t cut it out hahahaha

Fak drinking a Capri-sun LOL

Omgggg him saying to fire Marcus you are CRAZY

Lmaooo Jimmy venting to syd and saying that carmy has a tree up his ass

Carmy finding baby pics I’m SICK

EP5 ; Final Thoughts - WOWOWOWOW This is the last ep. I am watching tonight I need to digest. This was such a cute Richie ep. I am so in love with Dad!Richie. He is such a good, good dad. I also am dead- John Cena as a Fak? And having a mikey esc. Haircut???? And smoking in the restaurant- and then them saying it smells like smoke I am dead as fuck. Richie really really wants this review to go well, I hope it does:((

EP6 - “Napkins”

Good morning! time for e6 It is Directed by Ayo so i fear it is gonna kill me :) !

Well at least Tina has a normal clock

Oooo get down on it!!!! Let’s go Tina!!! Get in that groove mama!

Tina is so Puerto Rican mom I love it so so much

Tina’s married?! I love it!! how sweet

If Mikey’s in here- I’m gonna fucking die

Baker tina!! Oh- customer service Tina? No! Books Tina!!! Smart girl!! that’s my lady :))

NOOOO - WHAT ?! THEY’RE LETTING HER GO?!

THIS IS WHAT LANDED HER AT THE BEEF??? THIS???

Oh Tina I’ve been there mama you’ll land on your feet :((( That’s right baby everything will be ok

One thing about this show is all of the characters need routine

The degree thing pisses me off to no end because of how real it is. Like shes been doing this 15 years and knows it better then someone right out of school with a stupid degree.

Awww Tina and hubs been together so long!! So sweet I love it her husband is good to her.

I sooo love Tina is getting her moment the actress is so kind and amazing

Woah I thought the big interview would be at the beef LOLLLL like not that it’s big but that they really need her lolll

Oh my god. They hired someone ??? What the fuck and didnt tell her?!! RUDEEEE

This little fucking prick oh my god yes Tina fuck him

Aw baby I wanna hug her it’ll be fine mama I know it doesn’t feel like it

Bus is delayed SO SHE COULD APPLY AT THE BEEF HAHAHAHAHA

THERES MY MANNNN RICHIEEE!! HES SO HOT AAAA

“Maam you can’t smoke in here anymore” I can’t hahaha

Everyone calling him handsome I can’t hahah he is! But still hahaha

Omggg richieeee I love him he’s always been so sociallll!! Get ready to eat with the beef Richie oh. Wow. This whole scene is so chef kiss i cant wait to write more the beef!richie

FAKS FAKS FAKS ok where’s Mikey HDBDHAHSHEBDNEBSBD. THERE HE IS IN SHFJENSNSJEJEJENDNEJWKA

MIKEY OH MY GOD JEJSNANQ

RICHIE LMAO STOP THEY ACT HOW IN KNOW THEY WOULDDD

“She can’t be crying in here” I am done LMAO

I fear I’m seeing the Mikey crush AAA “sandwich really that bad??” Stop being funny !! I also see how he got Carmy out of his panic attacks what a brother stop Mikey!! Why would you do that Mikey everyone loved you so muchhh 🥺💔

Gosh Mikey IS so handsome

THE HAUNTED EXPLODING TOILET THAT CARM IS STILL DEALING WITH HAHAHAHA

oh my god Carmy takes after him SO SO SO MUCH oh my god Carmy takes after him so much

Oh my gosh I didn’t realize she was older then Richie!! 46 means something in this show- did Mikey…at 46? If he did I will fucking sue

OMG SHOWING HER THE PIC OH ANS TELLING ABOUT CARMY SHUT UP HE “hes the shit” he wasn’t allowed to work at the beef because mikey knew that he’s better then the beef. He sees so much in him I knew that was the case!!! I’m sick

My god !! Carmy!! Takes!!! After Mikey so fucking MUCH!!!

Oh Mikey- oh. Mikey. Oh Mikey. Oh Mikey. Oh Michael Berzatto. Hit me while I’m down PAL kick me why don’t you?! “I knew I was gonna get skipped because I had people to take care of” I knew this episode would make me sick.

oh my god when Tina said she loved Mikey she loved Mikey like a good friend and I am so gutted when Carmy says everyone loved Mikey and he just lit a room up and could make anyone comfortable oh my god I’m so gutted!!!!!!!!!!!

EP6 ; Final Thoughts - This episode let us truly meet Michael & oh my god it’s almost painful to watch these back to back like- this is a lot to digest holy fuck. When Carmen talked about a temp in a room and how Mikey could feel it then lean into it and manipulate it however he wanted. He did such a good job portraying that. I’d give anything for him to have just called Carmy when he was on that bridge and for him to have answered and for Carmy to change his mind. Oh my god I’m so- like oh my god? This show. I can’t.

EP7 - “Legacy”

Carmy so pretty :)

Oh Richie. Thinking about :((( everything.

Syd thinking of Carmy

SHE IS GETTING POACHED BY EVER MAN OH NO

good Carmy is back at AI-ANON

so much fucking family hahahah god I love Italians hey uncle Gary!

*sighs* good morning, Syd.

Oh. Ok he’s opening his own place ok…and he’s asking her I KNEW IT POACHER!! POACHER!!!!!

oh my god he’s offering her a real CDC job - with a real good salary, it would be healthier for her sadly!!!!!!

How’d I headcanon Carmy knew French PUUUURRIODD 😌

“You look nice” ha. Ha. Ha. Shoot me in the FUCKING FACE

The gum chewing HNNNNG IM CHEWING ON MY CAGE

“That sounds legendary pal” I WANT TO KISS HIM ON HIS STUPID MOUTH

ARE THEY PART TIME THE BEEF NOW?!! OH MY GOD- THEY ARE!!! EBRA IS LIVINGGGG HAHAH OMG THIS IS SO COOL???

“Matter of fak supply” LOL

Richie is taking this so seriously which makes me more mad how Carmy treats him like he really is so good at the job and loves it.

Aw he really misses Tiff. :( he’s so different now and wishes he could go back so bad but he’s gonna find someone that I’ll be very jealous of bc I need this man SO BAD

Oh him crying abt Mikey- no stop I can’t

SYDS TURN IN THE BOXESS HAHAHAH

“Hey grandpa” “hey grandma” I love Ebra and Tina sm lol and her mimicking his accent they’re adorable

“Maybe you can go fuck, Ted” hahahaha I love telling people to go fuck now

Eva’s drawing in Richie’s host book 🥹🫶

Carmen I wanna choke you out so bad! Can you take a single suggestion ???

THE BABY IS COMING :D!!!!

EP7 ; Final Thoughts - Another good episode!! Very balanced which I like, the character centered episodes feel very heavy but I still love them. I'm just happy that we got a little bit of a second to breathe!! I think it’s cool how they’re doing the beef on the side, like so cool! I never thought of that as an option. Because it’s true the neighborhood would probably miss their local sandwich spot! I liked this episode a lot :) Carmy can go fuck this episode, though he’s in the dog house and I hope Syd leaves to teach him a lesson! (& it makes him realize he loves her!!!)

EP8 - “Ice Chips”

I’m guessing before we start Nat is gonna find comfort not in her brother, but in Syd!

Oh poor Nat all alone :( PETE ANSWER THE PHONE- SYD ANSWER -CARMY ANSWER !!! SOMEONE ANSWERRRRR

CLAIRE SHES FINDING COMFORT IN CLAIRE. NO HER MOM!!! OH MY GOD OH DONNAAAAAA WHAT

oh my god Donna SUGAR oh my god sugar snapping on Donna I can’t

COACHING. SHES BEING A MOM HAHAHAH PLEASEE

someone get someone here other then Donna

My Scorpio sissy Natalie !!! 11/10/88 (this confirms to me carmy is still in his 20s theres no way hes 33 when nat is 34)

Donna needs to leave this is the worst she’s the worst birth partner ever

At least Donna is being nice

She never told her mom she was pregnant??? Wow!

Donna’s labor with Carmy being so incredibly hard is honestly canon! That is so funny actually. Yeah that kid makes everything hard for himself!

lol you get that epidural queen!!!

I’m glad Donna is hearing that she scared them as children.

Donna is an alcoholic because her mother had problems

Ok I’m feeling Donna sympathy

Oh a mothers love. Please STOP THIS I DONT WANN A FEEL BAD FOR DONNA

EP8 ; Final Thoughts - wow. Wowowowowowowowow 0 Carmy and 0 Richie basically but this was nats episode and Donna’s! I am happy we were able to see the sweet side of Donna, I think (and hope !!) she is on the right path to sobriety!!! This episode was very tender , I loved hearing about their childhoods more <3 Nat is gonna be a good mommy!!!

EP9 - “Apologies”

Magic? Ok sick, ok Marcus!! That’s who was watching this ok then wonder what thats about?

“Claire is peace” please- the thought of her gives you a panic attack.

He’s gonna apologize this episode Jesus we wasted a whole season still no sydcarmykiss. It’s ok guys stay strong we’ll be there next season

Yes Syd leave him

Carmen you are nuts!!!

Richie and Carmy staring at eachother through the window like bears about to kill eachother is freaking me out.

Syd say it -

Oh wait it’s the funeral for ever lol! I forgot that’s the funeral. Ok not worried

He goes to the walk in to try to make it in his mind like he hasn’t waited all this time to apologize hahahaha

AND RIGHT TO SYD AND THE AGREEMENNT I DJSJEBDJSJEHSHWHSBD SYDCARMY TILL I dIEEEE

“Missing one, that wouldn’t the the thing happened to be wedged up your ass the last few weeks is it?” JIMMYYYYY HAHAHAHAHAHA

Jesus this man’s eyes literally glow blue

He owes him sooo much money wow

Tina and Marcus are so cute

Carmy and his drawings are adorable

Ten minutes left and Carmy hasn’t said sorry lol

His little smile at the farm AAAA

Syd ls bringing them food before Carmy

No she’s right Carmy I’m sorry why wouldn’t it be immediate insurance what is … wrong with you?

Oh my god fak going to see Claire Fak leave now no no no no no no no no oh my god this is so bad

Mommy Nat 🥹💖

Aw Carmy looking at mikes funeral card 😭💔

EP9 ; Final Thoughts - Why does this season not feel done?! Well prob because they’re gonna do a season 4. But still there’s no way they can finish all of this in one episode. Holy moly the Faks need to stop interfering this is so bad!!!! Too many Faks!! Ok I can’t last episode time AAA

E10 - “Forever” !!!!!!

This mentor I like very much

He took the popes nose thing from this mentor hahaha

This man who mentored Carmy it’s understandable why he was so driven or like, inspired to keep going

LUCAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA LUCAAA LUCA LUCA LUCA LUCA

LUCA LUCA HES SO CUTE HRJJEJSJEJDNDJSNSNS “is that injected? Or is it…oh..ok” CUTE SHY EMBARASSED LUCAAAAAA

OMG CARMY MINGLING GOOD BOY!!!

Richie is crushing on Jess hard

Luca oh baby I wanna kiss himmm oh him

SYDYFBDNANA. SYD SYD SYD SYD CARMY IS GONNA EXPLODE

oh my fid oh my god oh my god oh my god his boss his his oh my god

Oh my god oh m y god “working for a bad boss is the worst because the culture you’re a part of is the culture you create” Carmen is spiraling rn (the next chapter of my oc fic is gonna go crazy)

Syd being more sociable then Carmy bc Carmy is panicking

This smug bastard loves that he makes Carmen squirm I wanna punch him

“This is why you’re alone you can’t handle this” I’m going to fucking stab something

Carmy finds 0 joy in cooking anymore.

Richie is so lovable the boss loves him and knew him for less then a week hahahahah

Carmy OH CARMY CARMY CARMY OH CARMY “generally being you” my jaw is my jaw my jaw my jaw my jaw my jaw on THE FLOOOOORRRRRRRRRR. Oh my god. He’s such this asshole boss I hope he dies holy fuck HOW DARE HE HOW DARE HE HOW DARE HE HOW DARE HE. I WANT TO PEEL OFF HIS SKIN

Luca and Syd??? Ok- I say go for it queen

My mind is blown so far this is so amazing but also how the fuck hasn’t he sorted with Claire and S3 is closing???

Omg after party at SYDS?! Where is Carmy??? literally Marcus and Tina are there and the Faks?? He has to be seeing Claire there’s no way why would he miss out on this!!!!

If only Carmy got to be apart of something fun. Of course he’d deprive himself. OF COURSE

He is… giving Syd ptsd like his boss did to him. She is having done to her what was done to him.

Oh Syd. Oh Syd. Oh you need to get out of there baby it’s killing you. I hate seeing her upset its hurting me.

Their review was bad…. :((((((((((((

YES I KNEW ITTTTTT!! TO BE CONTINUED !!!!! ASDFGHJKLASDFGHJKL

EP10/S3 ; Overall Final Thoughts -

IM CRYING omggggg omg omg omg omg omg omg the whole thing with the boss had me in actual tears. TB&HH is about to eat so hard so so hard oh I have so many ideas AAAA and I’m so in love w Richie even more then last season he is totally crushing on Jess. Oh my god syd needs to get out of the bear Carmy is actually killing her. He is doing to her what his boss did to him and that’s evil!!! Evil evil. Oh my god so many thoughts I have but wow just wow. I can’t most of all wait to read the rest of the fandoms thoughts WOW my fics are about to eat I’m so inspired ALSO SydCarmy fics are about to be so angsty and eeeeeaaaatttttt!! He is slowly killing his girl, also - him being able to say sorry to syd but not claire??? I’m mad that the Faks had so much screentime like they were funny sometimes sure, but waywaaay too much faks. Not enough Nat, not enough MARCUS!! The most powerful touching scene or at least most inspiring of the season for me was the one with carmy & his old boss the sack of shit, that scene is gonna propel tb&hh so farrrr also this whole season is going to! Im so excited to keep writing that. I see people are not liking this season in my peeks on my home page (i didnt want to taint my thoughts) but im kinda surprised - like yes we didn’t wrap everything up & there were too many faks and not enough syd BUT the cinematography was stunning, and we got to see in carmys head which is what i predicted - this season was to get in his head to see 2 main things 1) how he does what he does 2) why he is how he is - and we got both of those answers, I think everyone was expecting this to be the last season and it was never going to be! In order to wrap this up we had to fully understand why carmen is how he is, are you all catching my drift here? I cant wait for S4!!! I feel it that SydCarmy will happen, I know that chefkids will put it in to words because their brain is much bigger then mine - but wow wow and wow. I’m gonna have to watch each episode 10 more times to digest it but wow. Loved it! MOST OF ALL I CANT WAIT FOR S4!!!!!! AAAAA

#the bear fandom #the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #the bear season 3 #the bear spoilers #syd x carmy #sydney adamu #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #richie jerimovich

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