#marcus: best of both worlds

[profoundlydaphne]

[…] Do you know what the wobble is? As you know, just a follow up! Haha. I’ve heard of the Dougie, though! Haven’t seen anyone do that in ages. But consider: you could be old and hip in peace. The best of both worlds!

The "Wormy"? When I was younger we had the Dougie, maybe it's like that? But...wormier? I stopped trying to keep up with trends like that a while ago. I prefer to be old in peace.

[wannabeschyulersister]

under pressure

You were going to kill Richie. Strangle him until he was blue in the face. What sane person would send someone 47 texts while they were at work?

The door to the Bear was locked but you pounded on it until Fak answered it. “(Y/n)! What are you doing here?” He genuinely looked happy to see you.

“Hi Fak. Where the fuck is Richie?” You got straight to the point.

“He’s uh, in the back I think.” Fak knew better than to keep babbling on when you were upset.

You walked across the recently buffed floor to find the tall motherfucker that doesn’t know basic texting etiquette. Once you walked into the kitchen, it was pure chaos. There was shouting (mostly coming from Richie).

“Richie!” You yelled causing everyone to stop in their tracks.

Richie’s eyes widened a little, “Hey-“

You moved towards him and immediately shut him up, “You texted me 47 times! My phone literally froze from all of the texts! What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“What’s wrong with me?! I was textin’ you because your boy is losing his fuckin’ mind!” Richie shouted back.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Richie grabbed a piece of paper off the counter, “Look at this shit! He’s changing the menu every fuckin’ day and also has this bullshit list of non-negotiables.”

You grabbed the paper from him (more like snatched it) and quickly glanced over it. It did in fact seem like Carmen was losing his mind.

“This doesn’t give you an excuse to text me like I owe you money or something!” You handed him the paper back (more like threw it) and made your way to the back in search of Carmen. He wasn’t in the office or near the lockers. You opened the back door and he was leaning against the wall.

He looked up when he heard the door opening and was surprised to see you. “Hey, I thought you were comin’ later tonight.”

“That was the plan but Richie is a dick.”

Carmen chuckled and reached out for you. You set your bag on a nearby box and let him pull you closer. He rested his head on your shoulder, “I think I’m fuckin’ this up.”

“And by “this” you mean the restaurant?”

He nodded a little against you, “Everything is fucked.”

“It did seem a little chaotic in there today. Richie said you want to change the menu every day?”

“It’s what the best restaurants do. It’s insane, I know but we have to try.”

“Doesn’t it seem a little insane to try that though?”

“It’ll be worth it. I don’t want to let anyone down. Everyone’s countin’ on me. I want to get Syd a star. I want to help Richie and Fak. Tina. And Marcus-“

You placed your hand on the back of his head soothingly. “I know, Carm.”

“I can’t disappoint everyone. I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“Carm, you make me proud each and every day. What you do in that kitchen is magical. Sure, sometimes a little dramatic,” that made him laugh, “but you’re amazing at what you do. This place, it’ll start off bumpy, it wouldn’t be easy. But once you all settle into your groove, people will be fighting to get into this place.”

Carmen tightened his grip on you and took a deep breath. He lifted his head and looked at you. You could see the anxiety practically written on his face. He was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. You wanted so badly to take the burden off of him.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He mumbled before kissing you softly.

“You’d have to deal with Richie’s crazy ass by yourself.”

Carmen laughed again and rested his forehead against yours, “What a nightmare.” You loved looking into his beautiful blue eyes.

“When Sugar is out on maternity leave, I want to step in to help.”

Carmen was a little surprised about what you said, “Really? But- but what about your job?”

“I’ve talked to my boss. I’m going to use some vacation time and then reduce my hours so that I can do both.”

“No, (Y/n). I can’t have you spreadin’ yourself so thin. I don’t want you stressed.”

“I’m going to be fine. I want to be here with you and to help the others.”

“(Y/n)-“

“Carmy, I’m not taking no for an answer. Don’t you want me around more? I’ll take some stress off of your plate. I’ll be here late nights with you with no one else around…” you trailed off hoping he’d catch the hint.

He smiled a little bit, “Late nights?”

You nodded, “Yes, late nights.”

“I like the idea of that.”

[writers-hes]

Sydney Saw it First (c. berzatto x reader)

You’re Carmy’s friend from Noma and he asks tou to mentor Marcus before he heads to Copenhagen to stage. Sydney thinks you’re both fools in love and she’s determined to fix it. (fluff, sydney being the best wingman, inspired by the scene in new girl when nick points his shoes to jess, two fools in love)

navigation | main master lists

It was hard for anyone to read if the Carmen Berzatto cared.

Some days, he was loving but most days he was tenacious. It’s not like he meant it. It was just how he was wired; how he reacts to things. The crew learned that the hard way, when he exploded on Marcus, when he screamed at Sydney…when the stress gets to him, it really gets to him.

He’s imposed penance on himself for his actions, secluding himself from the world…being unreachable. If there was one thing in the world that he craved and that he was afraid of, it was love. So he secludes himself until he feels alone. Relationships were unnatural to him.

But it came naturally with you.

You were training to become a pastry chef at Noma when Carmy was there. You met each other at the halls, shared friends that it was inevitable for you two to become friends. He was your first taste tester when you first made croissants. He helped you make your own sourdough starter for the sourdough cookies that you were experimenting on. You were the first person whom he cooked his mom’s picatta. You were his sous chef, helping him prep the vegetables on important dates. When news arrived detailing Mikey’s death, you were the first person he called. 

You two were great. You were great.

If anyone deserved praise, Carmy thought that it was you.

He didn’t know why but when he saw that Marcus was really interested in pastry, he called you; asked you to come and teach a really, really eager student that was going to stage in Copenhagen soon. Sydney also suggested that sweets are needed in a restaurant. You didn’t hesitate to board the plane upon his request. If anything, you were glad that he was finally asking you for a favor. It only meant that he was still—if not more—comfortable with you. 

You arrived in Chicago all smiles, and greetings. It was Richie and Carmy who picked you up from the airport and Richi was floored. How did his cousin even manage to tolerate you? He didn’t hate you immediately, of course. In any case, Carmy told you about his little girl; you decided to bring her a little gift. 

“I didn’t know what to get you but Carmy said that you have a daughter so I got this instead,” you said, extending a toy. “My niece has the same one…so, I figured…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Richie nodded. He muttered a small ‘thanks’ before helping you with you luggage. 

The night before, Carmy instructed everyone during family to behave. 

“Look, there will be no funny business, alright? My friend is flying in tomorrow to oversee Marcus and act as his mentor while we fix the Bear. No taking her knife away, no screaming, no fighting, no fucking anything, alright, chefs?” he asked. When he was met with silence, “Alright, Chefs?”

A couple of ‘heards’ were thrown. 

“Who is this friend, anyway, Jeff?” Tina asked. “You didn’t tell us to behave when Sydney over here first came,”

“Someone from Copenhagen. She, uh—“

“She?” Sweeps asked, his eyebrows raised in anticipation. “You got a girl, chef?”

“No,” he replied. “She studied in Copenhagen as a pastry chef, okay? No big deal—“ he proceeds to mention your name and how you’re just really super cool. “No big deal—“

“Wait, Chef, that’s a big deal!” Marcus said. “Oh, you know her recipes are all over my station, right?” he asked. “Sydney—“

“I went to the place she worked at in New York after I graduated. Everything’s just so…good. Amazing,” she recalled. “So, yes, it’s a big deal,”

“Yeah, whatever. Just promise me to behave, alright?” Carmy asked. “She’ll have to make do with what we currently have but I’ll try to stock up and set up the station before she arrives tomorrow.” 

-

You arrived at the Beef—er, the Bear a day after your arrival in Chicago. You were able to find a place that was near the city center for a good deal. You were here indefinitely, still trying to figure out if you wanted to run your own bakery or just work with others for the rest of your life. Seeing Carmy take the leap was insipiring. 

“Hello, chefs, I’m Y/N,” you said, a friendly smile gracing your features. Carmy was right beside you, watching everyone. “I’m a pastry chef and I graduated with Carmy in Copenhagen. I’m here to mentor Marcus but of course, if you have any questions regarding anything, you can ask me. I know how to cook too…and uh, I’ll be taking care of family tonight,”

Carmy jerks from his relaxed position. 

“You sure?” he asks softly. “I can take care of family, if you’re too tired.”

“Yeah. It’s like initiation,” you nod, looking at him and then looking back at the new faces in front of you again. “Do you have any questions…”

Sydney raises her hand. 

“Um, I’m sorry if this comes across rude but why are you here?” she asked.

“Oh, well, I’m not really tied down to anything right now. When Carmy called me, asking if I could come here, I decided to go. I’m here in Chicago indefinitely and I’ve been receiving invitations to cook, teach a class, whatever. I might accept some of those,” you said. Sydned nodded. Damn, Noma’s chefs were being chased from left and right. She was in the presence of two. 

“Do you have a little notebook?” Tina asked, making Sydney scofd. “With recipes?”

“Um, no,” you shook your head. “I keep all my notes in my head and then write it afterwards,” Tina liked you already. 

“What do you think about Carmen Berzatto—“

“Anyway, that’s all, Chefs! Marcus, come to the office with me, chef,” Carmy said, breaking up the huddle, and making you laugh. He discreetly pulls down your shirt, a sign that you should follow him too to the office. When you were both out of earshot, Sydney asked no one in particular.

“That girl and Chef? There’s something,”

That afternoon, during family, Sydney watched the two of you like a hawk. Confirming her suspicions when Carmy stayed for family and sat beside you.

-

Sydney notices it for the second time. You were going over the Noma “picture book” with Marcus, telling him how some of the desserts came about.

“What’s this?” Marcus asked, pointing at a photo of the dessert that put you on the map. 

“That’s a dish of candied hallabong peel, with a prosecco peach sorbet, on a bed of meringue, topped with candied cherries. I got it because some of my friends went to Jeju sometime and brought back this orange hybrid. I think….I think we can recreate it but it wouldn’t be the same without the orange.”

“What about the flesh and the juice?”

“I turned it into like an orange-chocolate cake with chocolate mousse,”

Carmy was just passing by but he decided to watch you interact with his employees instead. 

“Anyways, where’s your chocolate cake? Let’s taste it and compare it from the last one. Also, I can send you my recipe for sourdough doughnuts. Just give me your email,” you said, looking up briefly to find Carmy already looking at you. It made him feel good to see you incorporate yourself so well in the kitchen. Well, it’s not like the Bear is open but his staff went to you for some tips and advice. They were all undergoing some sort of training to make everything more elevated. “Hey, Carm. Do you need anything?” 

“Hey-hey,” he coughed, ashamed for being caught. “Nothing. Uh—“

“Chef, did you ever try Y/N’s stuff?” Marcus asked. He’d really, really, really want to taste something that you made someday. They were all delicate and so detailed. It’s probably why you got multiple awards at such a young age.

“I did. She used to bring big Tupperware containers of things they made in the kitchen,” 

“He finished them all,” you told Marcus. “Wouldn’t spare me a bite,”

“I don’t know, bug,” he teased. “I vividly remember you begging me to do it because you were so sick of fucking croissants.”

“You’re so annoying,” you huffed, a playful smile on your face. “Go on now. Marcus and I have stuff to do and you’re distracting us.”

“In my own restaurant,” Carmy mutters, shaking his head. Sydney’s eyes immediately directed to Tina. Did you see? Did you hear the word ‘Bug’?. Tina only shrugged. 

-

Sugar dropped in to check on the improvements being done at the Bear  when she saw you and Carmen at the back, talking. She had to double take what she saw because it was quite…odd to see him talk to you with the same twinkle he used to have. She has never seen him like this. He was genuinely laughing at some of the things that you were saying, a shared plate of leftover chocolate cake between the two of you. 

“Who’s the girl outside?” Sugar asked, looking at Richie and Sydney for answers. 

“Some fancy pastry chef Carmy met in Copenhagen,” Richie replied. “It’s a whole bet now, you know? They’re always out in their own world ever since she got here,”

“Everyone puts in 10 to predict what’s going to happen,” Tina said. “You’re betting?”

“Yeah, sure,” Sugar says, giving a bill to Tina. “I bet…I bet they’ll fall in love right before she leaves Chicago. Like, on the way to the airport. Carmy’s going to tell her that he loves her and she stays,”

Laughter echoes in the room. 

“This is not some fucking movie, cousin,” Richie said. “Obviously, Carmy’s not gonna do shit about it.”

“I think…she’ll call him over and they’ll share a moment,” Marcus said. “He’s always at her place, did you know that?”

Meanwhile, unaware of the ongoing bet, Carmy looks at you.

“What do you think about Chicago?” he asked, a cigarette hanging idly on his fingers. 

“It’s nice…chilly,” you said. “But it’s nice. I’ve been offered jobs here, you know?”

“Hm?” he asked. “Are you planning to take them?”

“I’m…thinking about them. They’re all the same but like, I want my own bakery, you know? My own place.” you said. “It’s going to be a lot of work if I do that and I don’t necessarily have the staff to do all that.” you said. 

“If you want…you can come stay with us if you’re not sure,” he offers. “Like a pastry chef. Actually, I’ll have to ask Sugar and Sydney if it’s alright with them but you can stay here,”

“Bear, I don’t want to impose—“

Sydney was walking outside to throw the trash but she stopped her trackes when she heard you talk. 

“I want you here,” Carmy said with conviction. “But if you don’t-don’t like it here in Chicago, I wouldn’t mind either, you know? It’s just that…I want you here and-and fuck, I don’t know. I guess working with you made it so much more fun again, you know? Like us in Copenhagen. I mean, we’re always a team and-and it’s nice to have you here with me. Sugar and spice? Sweet and spicy or whatever the fuck they called us back then,” he chuckled, inhaling his cigarette to calm himself down. “We can make it work,”

“Yeah, yeah. You go talk about it to Nat and Syd,” you said, taking a swig of your water. “And then we’ll talk. Cool?”

“Cool,” he shrugged. Sydney leaves and goes back to where the commotion was. 

“I change my scenario,” she said. 

“You can’t do that, Sydney,” Richie said. “It’s a bet! You have to pay again,”

Sydney breathed, what was ten more, right? Fuck. 

“Fuck, sure, okay. Whatever,” she said, giving Richie the bill. “She’ll stay here. She’ll realize the there’s nothing waiting for her back home and she’ll stay here,”

“Where did you get this?” Fak asked. “Quite—oh my God. Sydney, did you fucking cheat?” 

“No, I didn’t fucking cheat!” she defended, it was a lie. “Can’t you see the two of them? Always in their own world? How would Carmy let her go?”

“Jeffrey has a point,” Tina shrugged. “But if she loses, just know that you lost twice, Jeff,”

“I know,” 

-

You, Sydney, and Carm all went to his apartment. It was where the two of them made a menu while you acted as a consultant and a taste tester. Their palates were fucked and they didn’t know what to do or what to cook anymore. So they asked you. But you weren’t there today. You and Marcus were in your apartment, making up stuff for dessert. The Beef has officially closed down and is a rubbled mess. There was no space and Carmy just wanted to be there with you.

“Can I ask you something and you can tell me to fuck off?” Sydney asked while she watched Carmy plate the hamachi crudo. 

“Hm?”

“Do you…have feelings for Y/N?” she asked, looking at Carmy. He blushed, his ears turning red for being caught.

“Is it obvious?”

“To everyone but her,” she shrugged.

“Fuck, really? I thought I was being discreet,”

“Oh, you can stay here! You’re so good and so smart and so pretty,” Sydney gushed, mocking Carmen.

“Fuck off,” he laughs. “I…I do,”

“Yeah?”

“I just…just…she’s uh, so amazing, and like, I’ve been feeling these feelings since…since Copenhagen,” he mumbles, finishing the garnish with an oil. 

“Damn. You never made a move?” she asked, getting forks. She gives one to Carmen and they both taste the crudo. It was amazing. “That’s good,”

“It is. Good job, Syd,” Carmy replied.

“It was her who told me to try adding jalapeno slices,” Syd said. 

“You can’t do that,” Carmy warned her. Why did she want to get you two together so bad? “But I haven’t done anything. I mean, like, she was dating these guys and they’re so cool that-that it was never really my turn,” he remembered.

“But you’re the best chef in the world! That trumps that,” she encouraged. “None of them worked out?”

“No,” Carmy shook his head. “She’d always end things and I don’t want that for myself. She told me none of them worked out…wasn’t what she was, uh, looking for?”

“Oh,” Sydney nodded. “Well, if you’re feeling brave enough…”

“I haven’t been having…fun,” Carmy acknowledges. “With the Beef and the Bear until she got here, you know? Made me feel like I was young in Copenhagen again,”

“Another question. You can say fuck off if you want,” Sydney says and watches as Carmy bites a smile. “The last one. Is that why you asked her to stay? It’s just that I heard you the other day and…”

“Fuck off,” he laughs but Sydney noticed how everything about him conveyed everything that she needed to know. 

-

“This is a quenelle,” you told Marcus. You, Marcus, Carm, and Sydney were at your apartment. It was bigger than Carmy’s and your oven didn’t have jeans in them. “This took me at least a hundred tries,” you chuckled. “You just…away, back, and then hands…” You demonstrated, making a quenelle of a yuzu mousse.

“Damn, Chef. How’d you do that?” Marcus asked, trying it for himself. He failed, his quenelle being a little bit smaller than yours. 

“I had a friend named Luca. He didn’t let me out of the kitchen until I made a perfect one,” you recalled. “Carmy was there and he was laughing at me. He could do it in like three tries and I remember hating him,”

“You hate me?” he asked, leaning on the countertop. He didn’t like to hear about Luca. He only wanted you to talk about the two of you.

“Hey, Bear. Try this?” you asked, spooning him the raspberry curd. Carmy opens his mouth and you walk over, feeding him the pinkish liquid and then watching his face. “It goes with a black sesame shell. Do you like it?”

He notices your close proximity and flushes.

“Y-yeah,” he coughed, looking away. “Really good. Uh, very good,”

“No notes?” you asked and he swore he could kiss you right there because you were so beautiful.

“No notes,”

“Thanks, Chef,” you said. Sydney whistles as you help Marcus master his quenelle. Carmy looks at her and she teases him with a mockery of what he just said.

Carmy and Marcus left after cleaning up. You and Sydney decided to have a girl’s night. You were both sitting on the couch, mud masks on your faces when she turned to you fully.

“You know, he likes you right?”

“Who?” you asked, trying to fit a handful of chips.

“Carmy,” you heard and you choked on the bits of chips in your mouth. 

“Fuck!” you choked. “Sydney!” You were coughing while Sydney handed you a glass of vodka cranberry. You gulp it down. “You—can’t say shit like that!”

“What?” she laughed. “Look, I’m not kidding! Whenever he talks to you, his feet are pointed at you. I’ve read enough fucking books and body language shit to know that he’s interested,”

“I don’t think so,” you said. “That’s bullshit,”

“It’s not though,” she shrugged. “He asked you to stay for a reason,”

“He needs a pastry chef,” you shrugged. “Besides, he and I are friends, Sydney. I’ve been trying to get him jealous all my time in Copenhagen but he never…he never got the signal,”

“Oh,” Sydney nods. Two idiots in love. “Have you ever tried telling him?”

“Of course not! He’s always on about how he doesn’t have the energy to love or date. I tried the jealousy thing before but it never worked. Trust me, there’s nothing.”

-

Carmy arrives at your doorstep the next morning, bright and early. Sydney had already left, telling you something about stopping by at her dad’s apartment to get stuff. You were going to the Bear with him to help Sydney choose plates for the restaurant. 

“Good morning,” he greets. Two cups of take-out coffee in his hands. “I got us some coffee while we walk on the way,”

“Thank you,” You took the cup from his hands and clutched your jacket tighter. It was so, so, so cold. “Didn’t know it was going to be this chilly today,”

“You wanna wear my jacket?”

“You’ll be cold,”

“It doesn’t bother me,” he said, already taking off the jacket to the best of his one-handed ability. He was only wearing a gray sweater underneath. “I have something. See?” He doesn’t take no for an answer, taking your coffee and your bag from you so you could wear the colorful jacket.

“Thanks, Bear,” you said, smiling at him. The sight of you in his clothes does something to him and he couldn’t help except give you a slight nod before forging on in the chilly Chicago weather. 

You both entered the Beef giggling amongst yourselves when the usual buzzing stopped.

“Remember when Luca—“

You halted, finding the silence odd. You looked around to see everyone looking at you.

“What’s wrong? Is something wrong?” Carmy asked, removing his hand from the small of your back. “Syd—“

“Love the sweater,” Richie teases. You look down and feel the warmth on your cheeks. 

“It was cold and he asked me to wear it,” you shrugged, leaving Carmen to deal with the staff out front. You were signalling Sydney for help but she only looked away. Traitor. “Um—“

“Y/N, if you could please help me out here,” Carmy called you. 

“Your boyfriend’s calling,”

“He’s not!” you huffed before walking over. “What is it?”

“I need you to time me, is that okay?” he asked. He nodded towards the stopwatch and you complied. “Thank you. I just need to check or like, map out the kitchen you know?”

“Of course,” you replied. 

“Do you need help getting on—“

“It’s okay it’s just an old thing,” you replied.

“Yo, cousin! If you’re done eye fucking, Sugar needs you.” Richie calls.

“We’re not eye-eye fucking!” you complained. “What the fuck?” You stood up from your corner before you could even work and accidentally looked down. If a man is interested his feet will—

You move to the side and Carmy follows. And then to the side again. 

“Y/N–“

“Stay there,” you asked, walking around him and him turning around. “Carm!”

“What?” he asked, grasping your shoulders. He looks down to his shoes. “Are my shoes dirty?”

“No, it’s just—“ you tried again but Carm still followed. “Sydney told me about like, how when a guy is, uh,”

“Cousin!”

“Fuck, okay. Let’s talk about it later okay? Once everyone’s out?” he asked, looking at you. “Can we do that?” His jacket felt softer on you than it ever did on him.

“Yea-yeah,” you nodded. “I’ll go help Sydney,”

The afternoon passed by and you were alone at The Bear. You waited for Carmen to finish up at the dining area like you promised. Your heart was beating so fast, maybe a thousand miles an hour. What Sydney said has been on your mind and what if it wasn’t true and you get embarrassed? Fuck, could you even handle that?

You sighed, burying your head between your hands when Carmy walks over to you. 

“What’s up?” he asked. “Everything alright?”

“Y-yeah,” you nod. “Can you stay there and just, I don’t know, be Carmy?” you asked, standing up to test the theory again. He just stands there, dumbfounded. You circle around him and he follows. You were looking on the ground. 

“Fuck, what the fuck?” he asked. “Is there something wrong with my shoes? I know they’re old and not—“

“Carmen, shh,”

“What?” he asked, grasping your shoulders for the second time that day to steady you. “What’s wrong?”

“Fuck, I don’t—“

“What’s wrong?”

“Sydney told me that there’s like, this body language thing and like, uh, says that when a guy is interested his shoes are always pointing at you and well, she told me to look at yours,” you rambled, looking away in embarrassment. “Look, if this will be weird between the two of us, I mean—“

“Why would it matter?” he asked, hands inching closer to your neck. He was nervous but maybe this is the opening that he’s been waiting for for years. When you didn’t reply, he asked again. “Why would it matter?”

“Because…because I’ve been trying to make you jealous for years in Copenhagen and it never worked,” you whispered. You were embarrassed. It felt like you were in high school telling your crush that you liked him. “I know you don’t see me that way,” you replied, trying to look for the right words. Carmy lets you finish. He wanted to hear you. “And it’s fine. If this is stupid, let’s forget that this ever happened. Okay? God, I’m so fucking embarrassed right now,” 

“Hey, hey,” he cooes, his thumb tucked the hair back and then caressed your cheek. “Whoever said that I wasn’t jealous? I had to leave all the time because I was so fucking jealous. Those guys were cool. Don’t-don’t be embarrassed, okay? I like hearing that-you, uh, like me,”

“Carmy…don’t lie to me, okay? You don’t have to pretend—hm,” 

Carmy had just kissed you. Carmen Berzatto just kissed you. You were clutching on his shirt so tightly, afraid that if he lets go, he’ll be gone. But he doesn’t. He just trails his hands down to your back, touching skin to skin until you’re one. 

“I’ve been waiting years to do that,” Carmy rasps, breathing heavily. 

“Yeah? Then, do it again,” you whispered, smirking slightly at how he seemed to blush hard. Before you could tease him though, he tucks your hair back again, bringing your lips closer to his.

He did.

A/N: Thank you for giving my recent fics so much love and for being so motivating. Your kind words really make my day and I hope that you love this too. Don’t forget to reblog and comment! Thanks again!

TAGLIST: @kpopgirlbtssvt

[b00tyliciousbabe]

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅

barbie tingz

marcus scribner x THICC male reader

summary: just marcus loving you like with his heart, soul, and FAT SCHLONG. slight feminisation - don’t kill me.

notes: LOVELIES! hope everyone is having a beautiful day. i wanted to let y’all know that i will be taking a lil break because it’s exam season. don’t be sad…because this means i have an entire summer of smutty content to write and catch up on! ps. each word in this fic is me being another squat closer to the fattest ass in the world. ENJOY!

ALSO! the met gala is tonight! my favourite event of the year, i might make a short rec…how do we feel about that?

song rec: ‘freak’ - victoria monét

marcus was well on his way to establishing a name for himself in hollywood. booking new roles, alongside his debut as a director, he was on track for a career that would rival his mentors. but if you were to ask him what his biggest achievement was, he would say being with you. the corny mf has actually reiterated his adoration multiple times during interviews, and the world is obsessed with how lovestruck he was. aside from being social media’s favourite young couple, you, yourself, had a blossoming career in fashion that meant you were styling your man to make sure he looked good for his press tours.

notoriously, you garnered a reputation for EATING UP on the carpet - zendaya being your only competition. this ain’t no exaggeration, but every time you’d step out, those fits would break the internet. thus, when the news dropped that you’d be attending the premiere with your boyfriend, all eyes would be on you - yet again. having you on his arm, instantly elevated his aesthetic. not that he ever saw you as some pawn too boost his career, you meant the world to him, but your beauty as his trophy wife made him even more palatable. usually, you’d have an entire glam team by your side cultivating your iconic, polished look. but, you and marcus had both been working so hard, to the detriment of your relationship, and so you decided to spend the night at his, agreeing to do all the glam yourself.

‘Y/N,’ Marcus bellowed from downstairs, putting on his rings, and spraying cologne onto his clothes. ‘baby, we gotta go.’

‘Y/N! over here! to the left! Y/N!’ a flurry of paparazzi screamed. ‘the body is TEA!’ one reporter exclaimed, making you laugh.

you graciously blushed. they weren’t wrong, your pear-shaped figure, defined abs, and toned arms were nothing short of a sculpted masterpiece. amidst the bbl allegations on twitter, and every tabloid claiming to have the secret to getting an ass as perfect as yours, YOU were the standard. a beautiful, androgynous mix of allure and charm. not even chris evans, america’s ass, said that you had the best glutes in the industry. it was a thing of wonder; something so many lusted for, and even more desired to have a piece of whilst having you in backshots. there were an array of wolf whistles from the public whenever you walked, swiftly followed by a gaggle of photographers snapping shots of your post-gym bawd.

marcus soon joined you on the carpet after finishing up on his interview. if the sensory overstimulation of flashes and cheers wasn’t enough, this was heightened when marcus snaked his arm around your lower back. whispering sweet nothings into your ear, spectators were foaming at the mouth by his public proclamations of love, hiding your blush from the world.

‘don’t be shy,’ he said lifting your chin to his face. ‘there’s that smile I love.’ the whole crowd was gushing, you could’ve cringed at how clingy he was being in public, but found his confidence to do so, all the more endearing.

one thing that you sly liked about marcus, was how he jealous he could get, so many of his friends and industry buffs would come up to talk to you during the interviews, coming up for hugs, and even though he trusted you, his need to protect had him riled. marcus had a great relationship with all of his co-stars and they all became such a family over the filming process. you being there made the family even stronger, embodying the role of MOTHERRR in more ways than one, and they all appreciated your kindness. always there to soften the stressful tones of your bf’s criticism.

you were particularly close with his friend from another project, and due to mutual management you spent a lot of time in the same spaces. he came up and hugged you from behind, before being whisked away to speak with another reporter. all but a few seconds, lasted an eternity, the worst kind, burned into the possessive psyche of your man.

moments passed and it was time for group pictures on the carpet. you and marc were dead center, with his large hands gripping you tighter than usual. you looked up to see he was scowling, ‘lighten up bubs.’ you giggled, to which your bf fixed his face - he could never stay mad when you were always there to calm his demons. not long after, the same face screw, that made his nose look so cute came back, as he remembered the voices of the media resounding in his head.

‘damn I’d hit that.’

‘Marcus is one lucky mf to be all up in dat pussy’

‘I bet the recoil on that thing is insane.’

it infuriated him to hear how the public spoke about you, as if you were some object, and not the kind person he grew so enamoured with. ‘I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you gon’ beg me for mercy.’ he whispered , breaking that veneer of respectability for a brief moment, squeezing your butt, then turning back to smile at the cameras. you’d never seen that side to him, it’d be a lie to say it didn’t turn you on.

throughout the screening, he made sure to let you know that all your teasing would soon be dealt with. the vulgar remarks were still plaguing him, and you knew you were about to be on the receiving end of it. literally.

‘upstairs.’ he said sternly,

the two of you started kissing, unbuttoning his shirt as he unbuckled your pants to free the globes of juicy flesh he loved so much. strewn across the floor, all fear of creasing the custom couture outfit you were wearing had disappeared - the overwhelming desire to make love to your boyfriend clouded your judgement.

you get down to business, kneeling to align your lips with his cock head. ‘don’t take this the wrong way.’ marcus sighed, urging you to stand up, so frail against how tall your man stood.

‘Y/N, i just wanna fuck right now.’

you knew how badly he needed this, and a part of you liked how desperate he was to be inside you. but it was bizarre, marcus loved watching you suck him off, getting him all lubed to plough your hole, almost as much as you loved gagging on his meat. nonetheless, you obliged, bending over as you had your knees on the edge of the bed, hole puckering at the chill of the air. marcus grabbed your left cheek, caressing and massaging your upper hip.

‘so fucking soft.’ he whispers against your skin, kissing at your taint. it was as if he snapped out of his love drunk trance, and was left a primal shell of himself. he practically ripped off your underwear, leaving your naked bodies to rub up on each other as he scrambled to find lube.

‘fuuuuuuuk’ he groaned.

his thick schlong fit like a glove in your inviting hole, slick from your desire and his precum.

‘damn i missed that boy pussy’ - LIES. that man combusts if he isn’t inside of you at least 4 times a week - wtf was there to miss? this sentiment made you smile at how whipped he was for you though.

his pace quickened. pulling his entire length out of you, except his bulbous tip, and spitting directly on your pussy to get you even more slick. ‘hear that baby,’ he praised the ‘mac n cheese’ sloppiness of your hole. ‘your pussy was made for me.’ he was right; most guys love skinny twinks because their petite butts made their tops’ look hung. despite the voluptuous curves you had, you were ample in both chest and derrière making average look like a micro penis inside you. all but marcus. he overpowered you in ways no other man could, his thick, girthy cock stretched you out in a way that blurred the lines between pain and pleasure. not to mention his length, during your first time he could barely fit half in without it feeling like he was stabbing your insides. but after some practice, you started taking him - ALL of him.

his grunts deepened. ‘practically begging me to cum inside that hole.’ gripping your hair up fucking you in doggy. style. marcus began leaving love bites on your neck, marking you for all to see. his big hand crossed to caress your childbearing hips. whoever said men can’t get pregnant must’ve never accounted for marcus’ determination. his dick wanted to make you a mother so badly, and nothing was going to stop him trying.

‘you can take it.’ he praises. ‘all. of. it.’ slamming into you with a bold rhythm on his final three words. and that you could. your hole was heaven for him. every time he would enter, your thick meaty globes would bounce like jelly on his lower abdomen, making marcus even more inclined to give you your reward. you moaned out in ecstasy, your bodies were made for one another.

‘who’s pussy is this?’ his grip on your neck became tighter, still allowing you to moan out in response, ‘it’s yours marky, all yours.’ fuck. you were whipped, almost as much as he was. ‘that’s right baby, moan for me.’

‘scream like the little bitch you are.’ you and marcus both enjoyed the passion of rough sex, but this was something you hadn’t ever seen in him before. he was a beast and you loved it, way more than you could ever admit. there was something sweet about the high you were on as you were being impaled by his dick.

particularly, he relished in hearing your slutty cries, ‘music to my fucking ears.’ praising you ‘my pretty little slut, fuck yeah, you want my load.’

‘fuck yeah marc, give it to me please.’ you screeched, loving how hard he was clapping your cheeks.

‘shiiiiiiit, baby, fuuuuuck.’ he spouted, spilling his pearliness into your pussy. he used his thumbs to kneed the dough around your hips, losing himself in the bakery he so enjoyed visiting every morning for breakfast.

gently, he collapsed on top of you, still inside the warmth of your flesh. after a gentle make out sesh, cockwarming your boyfriend until he was soft, your bf brushed up against you. massaging your thick thighs, marcus tended to the bruises he gave, kissing them reassuringly. you ushered him to lay his head between your pecs, as he put his entire body weight onto you. he sighed deeply, feeling safe in your warm embrace. ‘marc, is everything okay?’ you stroke his face, as your fingers laced into his curls. he snickered groggily, ‘shouldn’t i be asking you the same thing?’ - a fair question because he litch just wrecked your shit. ‘real, but we both know that in a couple hours i’ll be fine.’ a silence filled the room, concern brewing in your heart. you played with his ear, knowing how he becomes putty in your hands. ‘fuuuuuck, you ain’t gon’ stop unless i talk, right?’ you kept quiet, trailing the tips of your fingers on his lobe. he sighed deeply, ‘i just get so possessive over you.’ his last words muffled by your ample bosom as he came to the realisation that the press’ words got to him more than he thought.

sitting up, marcus exhaled deeply. ‘i can’t even blame them for ogling, you’re so beautiful.’ ‘but u ain’t an object, and i hate that people treat you like that.’ you caressed his cheek with a loving care. ‘call it jealousy, possession, toxic - I don’t care. you’re all mine.’ marcus always felt the need to take care of what was his, doing better than what he had seen throughout his childhood.

you had an idea, trailing your fingers down his torso, circling his belly button, ‘why don’t you show me again?’ whispering into his ear as he breathed out in pleasure.

you kissed his cheek, before slowly massaging his dick tip, ‘how much do you love me.’

marcus turned you over. stroking and licking his ear, y’all were so intimate. he held onto the grooves of your waist, fucking into you slowly, marking your neck with his saliva.

‘you’re such a dream to me Y/N,’ he always had a way with words that made you smile like a school girl. ‘I was so selfish before, you didn’t even come.’ you always placed marcus’ pleasure above your own, but he was never satisfied with just brutalising your hole. he needed you to enjoy taking his dick, just as much as he enjoyed gaping your hole.

‘guess I’ll have to fuck another load in, to get one out of you.’ he joked, sucking on the sweet skin of your plump ass.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅

tag list:

@gayaristocrat

@ghostking4m

[baronessvonglitter]

Ready When You Are

husband!Marcus Pike x wife!Reader

Word count: 2K

Summary: you and your husband Marcus Pike can't stop thinking about trying for a baby...

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, fluff, established relationship, talk of having a baby, reader wears lingerie, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, playful rough/dirty talk, fingering, unprotected piv (actively trying to get preggo), if I missed anything please let me know!

Author's note: this is for @fluffygoffpanda I hope this scratches that itch! Jesus do you have good taste in men for this particular kink. PS I don't know what pink cloud punch is, but I can tell you that if you pour Sprite over rainbow sherbet it's sooo gooood!

MARCUS PIKE MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

It's one of those "modern" baby showers where men are guests, but inevitably drift to the den where a football game is on. The women mill about the kitchen and dining room, sampling dishes, gossiping, exchanging stories about their own pregnancies.

Marcus seemed more excited about the get-together than you were, and despite having migrated to the other room for the game, he keeps sneaking back to the kitchen, swiping a pinwheel sandwich, or a petits fours. You can tell he's half-listening to the little nuggets of advice being passed around, and watching the presents being opened, yellow and pink and blue tissue paper blanketing the floor. 

Your youngest sister looks resplendent in her flowy pink floral maternity dress, her hands continually resting on her bump, protective, almost queenly. "I'm so happy for you," you tell her for the hundredth time, kissing her cheek.

She smiles, sipping a frothy cup of pink cloud punch. "Sister, when's it going to be your turn?"

"For what?" Marcus asks, appearing behind you, enveloping you in his arms.

"For a baby," you answer him, giving him a little smile, a rosiness painting your cheeks. You've been married almost a year, and though you've both talked about eventually starting a family, you haven't chosen a time on when exactly to begin.

"No pressure," you sister says quickly. "It's a serious decision."

You are the last of your siblings to have a child. Even your older brother has twins in elementary school.

"We'll talk about it when you're ready," Marcus says, giving your hand a soft kiss.

You expect him to be the one to bring it up, to possibly goad you into talking about it, or at least planning what names you'd use. But he's seemingly forgotten about it on the drive home after the party, making dinner plans with friends for next weekend, and going to see your favorite band in town when they finally come there on tour.

It's not until the next morning that you bring it up over coffee at your favorite diner. 

"Would you want to start trying for a baby?"

Marcus stops, coffee cup halfway to his lips. Then he breaks into a grin, only resuming his poker face for only a moment to say: "I'm ready when you are."

You nod, letting the pieces fall together in your brain. There are unknowable factors, of course, but you wouldn't be alone, and you'd be having a child with the absolute love of your life.

"I'm ready. I want to have a baby with you."

The smile on Marcus's face could light up the entire Eastern Seaboard. He takes your hands across the table, leaning in for a kiss. "I'm so glad, because honestly I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since the baby shower yesterday," he admits a little sheepishly.

His enthusiasm is contagious, lifting your heart and erasing any doubts you had. "Do you think we're ready?" you have to ask.

"Babe," he says. "You're too perfect of a person to not be making the world better by adding a few more of you to it."

You sigh in mock exasperation. "How do you know exactly what to say?"

He chuckles, but his expression softens when he looks at you. "I'm in if you're in. I mean that."

Thinking about it takes up your entire day. You look up baby names, maternity wear, childbirth options, the best OBGYNs in the area. Then you go further, checking out the schools, wondering if you should trust public or go private. Then colleges. Which one is best for which degree?

Marcus thinks it's cute when you call him to tell him what you've been working on all day. "Sounds like you're really, really serious about this," he says.

"You'll be home soon?" you ask, checking your hair in the mirror one last time.

"I'm about five minutes away. Why?"

"I have a surprise for you. Drive safe."

Naturally Marcus has to restrain himself from speeding the next couple blocks to your home. Just as he's about to unlock the front door you open it, wearing a teddy in his favorite shade on you.

"Just in time," you purr, grabbing him inside by the collar.

"What's going on?" he smirks, happily led by you to the bedroom. 

"What do you think?" you smirk back. The bed is strewn with rose petals, and you perch yourself in the middle of it, an utter vision to Marcus's eyes. He follows you, led by a primal instinct to take you, to hold you and make you his.

"I didn't take my birth control pill today," you tell him. "In fact, I threw them all out."

His brows rise, heart skips a beat, mouth fills with saliva. "Why'd you do that?" he asks slowly, even though he already knows.

"Because tonight I want you to get me pregnant."

It's as if the air has been squeezed from his lungs. He tries to maintain composure, knowing you wouldn't tease him, nor would you take such a decision lightly. "You're sure, babe?"

You nod as his hand cups your chin, his thumb tracing your lower lip. "I want you to fill me up, over and over again tonight. I want to be dripping with your cum for days."

An image of him fucking you, his seed taking root, your belly swelling with his child, breasts getting fuller and sweet with milk, runs through his brain, tapping into the primal side of him. He whispers your name, grabs hold of you in a kiss, hands wandering under your teddy to caress your body, smoothing over your curves, cup your breasts.

You bring his hand to your cunt, already so moist and ready for him, giving a shuddering sigh as he works two fingers inside, jaw tensing when he feels how wet you are.

"Breed me, Marcus," you whisper, your breath tickling his ear. The hair on his arms and the back of his neck stands up. What am I still doing with my clothes on? he wonders, then is thankful that you've taken the initiative, relieving him of his jacket, his tie, belt, shirt, pants, and everything else. 

His cock pulses in your hand, his precum already dribbling over the top. Laying on your back, he scoots between your legs. "What about your work?"

"I'll work from home. Hell, I could even do advisor work until the kids are old enough for school," you say, wrapping your arms around him.

"Kids.. plural?" he grins. "How many?" His lips ghost across your ear, nibbling your lobe.

"Two," you sigh, running your hands down his back. "I don't want an odd number. I didn't like being the middle child."

He kisses your forehead, as if to take those memories away. "One boy and one girl?"

"Perfect," you sigh again, trailing your foot along his calf.

Desire and love fill his senses, make him your servant, all he can see and breathe is you. Imagining you getting big with his child, making a soul with him, creating a little legacy, even for the short amount of time you're both promised on this earth.. Marcus's heart feels like it shouldn't fit in his chest anymore.

You whimper his name. nudging your hips against his. He slips your teddy over your head, revealing your soft skin, the body he's come to worship night after night during the happiest time of his life. 

He captures your lips in another passionate kiss, tongue brushing against yours with fervor. Then he pins your arms over your head, spreads your thighs further apart. "You're so eager for it, so eager for me to cum inside you."

You shiver, not bothering to suppress a whimper. "I am, baby. I want it all.."

Fuck, you're not even teasing, not even pretending, not role playing.. Marcus's head is nearly spinning with his new reality. His head drops into your neck as he breathes in your scent, your shampoo and your own natural aroma, and of course the sweet and spicy essence of your pussy. He lifts his head to catch your gaze. "I love you," he utters as he slides into you.

"I love you," you gasp in return, letting yourself be helpless beneath his soft grip. He buries himself in you until his hips meet yours, and you can't tell where he ends and you begin. Your tightness has him reeling, his mind spinning with want.

"You feel so good, babe," he groans in your ear. He withdraws almost completely before pushing forward again, a shiver rolling through him at the sensation. He starts a slow, languid pace.

"Marcus," you moan, your hips undulating against his in the rhythmic dance. He squeezes your hip, loosening slightly on your wrists pinned over your head, but you keep them there, enjoying the illusion of being at his mercy, of being bred. 

His mouth trails kisses down your neck as pleasure thrums throughout your body. "You feel like heaven," he mutters, moving leisurely as he takes note of the sounds that leave your mouth with each forward thrust of his. 

"More.." you gasp, tilting your hips up to get him deeper, not wanting to miss out on a single inch. 

"You want more? You want me to spill all my cum into you, give you a baby?"

Biting your lip you moan his name as he increases the pace, thrusts steady and fast.  "Keep moaning my name," he whispers. "Scream for me.. let the neighbors know who's inside you, making you feel this good."

"Christ," you gasp, pressing your hands to the headboard, the sound of it banging against the wall exciting you. "Want everyone to know I'm yours.."

"That's it," he says, hearing your moans and sighs coming faster. "Almost there? I'm gonna cum but I want to get you there first, you gotta cum first, that's what I want." At the sound of your whimper he kisses you deeply, pulling your lower lip between his teeth before pushing his tongue in your mouth, seeking your own. He moans low as heat builds in his lower belly.

He's hitting a place inside you that sends flutters through your cunt, the pleasure rising and rising until it becomes a fever, a fucking force of nature that threatens to claim you. 

"Come, darling," he grunts, knowing your body, knowing you're on the edge with him. His hips quicken their work, the sound of your bodies colliding is almost obscene.

You come undone beneath him, squeezing around him rhythmically and his hand moves between you to tease your clit, helping you ride out your orgasm, his own hips slowing as he watches the pleasure wash over you.

"God, you're so beautiful," he says, his forehead against yours, your hot panting breaths fanning across his face. 

"Marcus," you beg. "Put a baby in me.."

Aftershocks still wrack your body as he thrusts again, and your still-sensitive body wants to come with him. He rubs your clit again, working you back up, waking your senses again. 

He's getting closer and closer to tipping over the edge with you. Mumbling words of love, of adoration, he feels his climax rising in his balls, the pressure building up further and further. Only when he feels you come again, convulsing hard around him, does he give a final, hard thrust before he follows you, coming deep inside you, shaking and shuddering. At last he groans your name, muffled in the crook of your neck as his mind goes blank for a heavenly minute.

It's several minutes before either of you speaks, the moment too precious, too beautiful to break with mere words. He slides off you, keeping you close, not wanting to lose your warmth right away.

"I love you," you murmur at last. "Maybe we made some magic tonight."

"Maybe," he chuckles, his heart overflowing with love for you. "If not, we can always keep trying." He cups your beautiful face in his hands. "I want a family with you if that's what's meant for us."

"I want that. A little family.."

He smirks, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. "Give me a few minutes, we can give it another try. Just to make sure."

dividers by @saradika-graphics 👑

[probablyintensemuses]

BED CHEM- A. ARETAS

🎧- Bed Chem: Sabrina Carpenter

summary: After a game of 'Never Have I Ever,' you ask Armando for a simple favor. He complies in the best of ways.

warnings: so much smut, cursing, drinking

a/n: It's Kinktober, I hope you enjoy this. Sluts.

"Alright,' Kelly takes another swig of her beer, calling everyone's attention towards you. "Your turn, sweetheart, never have I ever."

You chuckle, throwing back another shot of amber liquid, rejoicing in its burn on the way down. You took in the living space of Mikes mansion, how all the colors began to mix and swirl, the room titling about half as much as your stomach.

Still, with flushed brown skin, you poured yourself another shot. "Hit me," You hiccupped.

“Never have I ever...’ Kelly slurs, tapping her manicured finger against her chin. She points at you, spitting out, “fucked a man in my car.”

You laugh, picking up your shot glass and throwing it back, shivering at the warmth it brings you.

Kelly squeals and claps. “I knew it! I knew you didn’t go all the way with that guy from the bar last week!”

You hiccup, throwing a fist full of popcorn at her. “Hush!" You shush her.

Waving to the guys--Mike, Marcus, Dorn, and Armando sat on the sofa--who were better equipped at handling their liquor than both you and Kelly, you say, "They'll find out. I don't need Mike disappointed in me."

Mike stands while chuckling, he walks towards you and like a magician playing a trick on a child, he distracts you with one hand patting your shoulder and swipes your shot with the other.

"Hey!" You whine, stumbling to get up.

“I think that’s enough of that.” Mike tosses it into the sink, rinsing it down the drain.

You groan, falling back onto the stack of pillows on the ground, Kelly following suit.

The world spins in slow circles above you and your stomach was spinning.

"Truthfully,"

"Hm?" Kelly hums.

"I've never fucked anyone before."

Kelly shoots up, wide brown eyes boring into your own amber ones, and the room goes deathly silent.

It takes a beat, but eventually Marcus cracks the quiet wide open.

“What do you mean you’ve never fucked anyone?”

“Yeah,’ Mike adds. “If Marcus is getting laid, you damn sure shouldn't be having any problems.

Marcus slaps Mikes chest, earning a laugh out of everyone.

You wave your hand in dismissal. "I'm content with the state of my virginity." You shrug, throwing some popcorn into your mouth while wishing it was a greasy burger.

Dorn scoots close to you, wrapping his heavy arm around your shoulder. "Is it a religious reason, because if it is, I totally understand."

You laugh. "It's not. I just never got there with anyone...I guess."

"I guess?" Mike sucks his teeth. "Girl, when I was your age I was getting all types of action."

You let out a loud groan and roll your eyes as Mikes goes on and on about his never ending playboy era.

"You ain't got to remind us that you were a bad boy, Mike. The proofs right here." Mike says, pointing to Armando.

You look over, watching Armando take another sip of his beer.

You knew Armando was Mikes son, yet no matter how close you felt to Mike, his son was just a part of him you couldn't feel piece together.

Apart of you felt fearful of his rather unpredictable nature, while another part of you, not so deep down, felt hypnotized by him, his demeanor, his attitude, not to mention his face and body. it was all enough to make your core pool with a feeling that could only be declared as one thing--desire.

Pulled into another trance, your eyes cut over and meet Armando's. They are the deepest, hypnotic shade of chocolate brown, hung low and dark. You presume, like everyone else, he too was drunk.

You swallow, taking him in, how his muscular arms wrap around the back of the couch like a snake, only enhanced by the black, fitted top he was wearing. How his thick thighs were spread in front of you, giving you full access to his package.

If you were to ever fuck a man, Armando was the type you'd want. A man who was gruff with an eclipse of something kind. A man who could no doubt pick you up, pull em' down, and turn you around.

You hadn't even realized you were practically salivating until Kelly's voice washes over you, cleansing your dirty thoughts away.

"You ready to go?" She says, you hadn't noticed everyone start to clean up, and apparently Armando hadn't either, his silky gaze still lingering on you.

"Oh,' you flush. "I think I better stay behind. I'm supposed to be helping Christine with a friends party tomorrow, anyhow." You say, pushing to stand.

"Alright then,' Kelly extends her arms for a hug. "We'll talk later, okay."

You pat her back, taking in her cherry scent. "Okay, get home safe everyone!"

Everyone says there goodbyes.

"I'm heading up for the night." Mike announces. "Goodnight!"

You dip down to pick up the last of the trash. "Goodnight."

Hands full of garbage you turn, jumping when you see Armando hasn't moved.

You clutch your chest. "Jesus. How long have you been--I thought you went upstairs already."

Armando places his beer down on the marble coffee table. "Wasn't done drinking."

You nod, avoiding his hot gaze. "Well enjoy." You breath, tossing the trash into the garbage. Quickly, you b-line towards the staircase.

"Lo haré."

You pause, hand on the stair railing. "What?"

He chuckles, pushing to stand. You suck in a breath taking in his godly figure as he walks over, the wetness from earlier resurfacing again.

At the staircase, Armando crowds your space, your back to his front. You wouldn't dare face him right now, you were drunk and loose, who knows what you were capable of if you turned around.

Your breath comes in and out in hitches as he swipes your hair to one side of your neck. The heat radiating from him becomes blistering as he leans down, plump lips barely grazing your ear when he whispers, "Disfruté tu historia."

You gasp, craning your neck to the side only to see, like a snake, Armando had already slithered past you with a smirk on his face.

"Have a goodnight." The way he called your name had you melting like butter.

You slide down until your bottom touches the cold steps, hoping it will shew away any nasty feelings you have for your bosses very, very hot son.

Unfortunately, it did nothing. Instead, you pull out your phone googling everything Armando had just said to you. And even though it was only two things, it was enough to carry you upstairs and into a very, gushy sleep.

---

Thunder crashes against your window, jolting you from your sleep.

Your tired blurry eyes look over at the night stand.

It's 3 am.

You've been out cold for at least three hours, the dryness of your throat being a definite tell-tell.

You throw the thick, lavender comforter off yourself, swinging your feet into your house shoes.

You toss on you glasses and sneak out of your room, trying your best to be as quiet as possible as you sneak down to the kitchen.

In the kitchen, you fill up your water bottle and quickly head back to the room Christine had assigned you to sleep in for the night.

Thankfully it had an ensuite, because you'd definitely have to pee after all this water you were going to chug.

Taking a swig of your water, movement in the corner of your room captures your attention.

You lower your water bottle, fastening the top and setting it aside. You know your vision is bad, but not this bad.

You shrug it off, kicking off your night shoes.

Another string of thunder, paired with a loud shriek of lighting barrels down on the house, illuminating the corner in which you had just thought you'd seen something.

With the bright light of lightening striking twice, there was no mistake. There was someone there.

But not just anyone. Armando.

You gasps, immediately throwing your arms up and not knowing where to cover first: your exposed cold, hardening nipples or the rounds of your ass exposed in your sleep shorts.

You choose the former, your nipples only straining more against the fabric of your tee shirt the closer Armando gets.

"What are you doing here?" You manage.

You continue to drink him in the closer he gets, his golden skin and abs on full display as he dawns nothing but a pair of grey sweats.

"I heard you get up." He says, his voice gruff with sleep.

"So you followed me?"

Armando shrugs. "¿Eso no está permitido?"

"I don't know what you're saying." You sigh, holding back the moans in your throat at just the scent of him.

Armando steps forward again, the force of his presence pushing you to sit down. "I think you do."

"I--I don't." You sputter.

Armando sucks his teeth, hooking his index finger under your chin. Your eyes lift and meet his.

This angle, you several inches below him, has you pressing your thighs together, keeping the desperate monster who wants to swallow the man before you whole at bay.

"Then I'll help you,' Armando's thumb strokes your chin. "What you said earlier, was that true?"

"What I said earl--," Your eyes narrow than widen.

You swallow. "You mean about?"

Armando chuckles. "Yes, about you not fucking anyone yet."

You squirm, feeling your heat begin to pool again. Your core must be draining all the liquids from your throat because find it hard to reply.

"I'll take that as a yes." Armando plays with the ends of your hair.

You aren't sure if somehow you'd been struck by lighting, but sudden surge of confidence shakes over you.

You stand, still several inches shorter than him. "Is there something you wanted to do about it, Armando?"

He hisses, throwing his head back. "Do you want me to do something about it?" His warm fingers trail your neckline.

You shiver, closing your eyes and pushing into his touch.

Only if you promise to come right on me.

"¿qué?"

Your eyes snap open. "I meant camaraderie, as long as you promise camaraderie."

Armando growls, taking your face in his hands once more. "No you didn't." He says in one breath before taking yours away.

You shudder against him. Then, his palms wrap around the nape of your neck, turning the kiss scolding and fierce. His mouth open and hot.

Armando pulls you in closer by your hips, a surge builds between you, a shared exchange of demand a desire as your mouths rummage, searching for that peak together.

There's a groan, movement, and then you're airborne, Armando's rough hands digging into your back.

You're not sure where Armando takes you until you tear yourself from him entirely, panting as you catch your breath.

"Why'd we come in here?" You question, looking around his room.

"Your rooms too close to Mikes." He says, grappling for you and pulling you close.

"What does that mean?" You question. It doesn't fully register for you until you sink down and straddle his clothed member.

Oh. Oh.

Even strained against two layers of clothes, you could tell Armando was going to be huge issue.

"That was probably best." You pant, grabbing his face and kissing him once more.

Armando pulls at the hem of your shirt, in between kisses he whispers, "Take this off.:"

You're hesitant and don't comply because no matter how hot and needy you are, this is still new to you.

Taking a beat, you pull back. "Maybe we shouldn't."

Armando sits up. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No!" You shake your head. "You're great, it's just...I'm a little nervous."

"We don't have to, I'm sorr--."

You stop him, grabbing his hand. "Don't apologize."

You take a deep breath, shaking off all the doubts allowing yourself to just seep in what the pleasure is and how it could morph.

You were here, in this blistering moment, with Armando. Going further than you ever had with any other man.

That shows that there’s something there, an underlying current that’s got you both pooling with desire for one another after a few drunken glances and intoxicated words.

Maybe it something that couldn’t be put into words, like chemistry.

Bed chem.

Whatever it was, it had you swallowing your fears, trudging past them.

You sit up straighter, locking eyes with predator in front of you. Your heart skips beats like a rabbit just looking into his eyes.

"I want to." You breath.

Armando nods, shifting. He slowly presses you into the mattress, the warmth of his gaze and comforters engulfing you. Yet, you can't help but shiver as he pulls down your sleep shorts, allowing his warm breath to blow over your exposed thighs.

You whimper.

It was finally happening and you were ready to drink in every moment of it.

Armando trails light kisses on the inside of both your thighs. The light touches make you gasp and shiver.

He trails his lips, slick as a cat, towards your heat, placing breathy kisses onto your clit.

You flank, gripping either side of the bed, relishing in every suck, swirl, and spit Armando gives your pussy.

The attention to detail on this man was unwinding you like a doll, so much so, you could feel your climax ramping up.

It starts deep within your core, and with every painting Armando makes with his tongue against your soaking heat, the more you primely unravel.

"Necesito que vengas por mí." Armando groaned, plunging to thick fingers inside of you.

None of his words register with you, all you know is that this mans pleasure is unfurling you and you just want to reach its peak.

Armando pumps faster, you grip his hair and pull him in, smothering him within your walls.

"Fuck, yes!" You moan, arching your back and exposing your hardening nipples to the ceiling. "I'm so close." You cry out.

"Cum for me baby," Armando whimpers.

Like you've been compelled, you do as he says, spilling out on to his beard in a symphony of moans and twitches.

"Shit." You catch your breath. "That was amazing."

Armando licks his swollen lips, his eyes dimmed with desire.

"Tienes un sabor aún mejor del que imaginaba." He groans.

"What does that mean?" You question.

Armando grabs your ankles, yanking you until you're under him.

"I'll show you," He says, smothering you into a kiss, allowing you to taste the sweet-saltiness of your vagina.

"I need more of a demonstration." You say between kisses.

"your wish." Armando pulls off your top, groaning at the sight of your full breast and eager nipples.

He doesn't hesitate to latch his lips onto them, giving them a good suck.

"Fuck." You moan, lowering your hand down to his crotch.

Armando grabs your hand, stopping you from touching further. “No. Not today.” He urges, moving your hands, one by one, up by your head and holding them there.

He continues his delicious assault on your nipples, you never knew your pussy could be this wet with pure want.

Armando unlatches himself, he comes up to face you, hovering above you.

He looks gorgeous in the light. Warm hues of the bedside lamp blend with the crystal moons glow, showing off his dark, sharp features.

You touch his face, trailing your index finger from his sideburns down his jaw and under his chin.

“When?” You say, breathless. “When did you realize you wanted me?”

Armando dips down, placing a slow, firm kiss on your lips. “Since I first saw you.” He admits.

You quiver.

“Are you sure about this?” Armando questions, peeling off his pants, leaving him in nothing but a tight pair of underwear.

You hiss at the sight of his print. “I’m sure.” You swallow.

Armando nods.

You reach up, and together, you peel off the final layer between the both of you.

Instantly, his cock springs to life.

You’ve seen many cocks online, all of them impressive in their own right, but Armando’s was something glorious.

He was large, thick, and veiny, the tip slick with pre-cum. If you had to guess his entire cock was anywhere between eight to eight and a half inches of glorious man.

He couldn’t be more perfect.

You were prepared to take all of it.

Armando moans snap you back to reality.

You Watch eagerly as he jerks himself off a bit. “Should we use a condom?”

You shake your head no. “I’m on the pill.”

“Fuck, princesa.” He hisses, positioning himself atop of you.

Armando gives you one last glance of worry, you bite your lip and watch it melt off his face and burst into something new as he sweeps the tip of his cock against your soaking wet entrance.

You let out a light moan, spreading yourself wider in anticipation for his massive member.

Armando complies, pushing into you slowly, letting you savor ever inch of him.

You had heard the horror stories of girls loosing their virginities. How bloody it would be, how much pain would be involved. So much so that it turned you off from sex for a long time.

That and your parents forcing a pure moral on you created an adult who didn’t know when she’d first get a taste of something so sweet.

But now that you’re here, you could confirm one thing: they were all wrong.

As Armando bottoms you out, his cock buried deep within you, you feel nothing but pleasure.

“Are you okay?” Armando asks.

You moan out, “yes,” giving Armando just what he needs to keep moving.

What begins as slow strokes changes into something much brighter as Armando grips your hips and begins to dig into you.

The room fills with echoes of skin colliding and the sounds of moans.

Your breast bounce on your chest as Armando continues to rails you, hitting spots you never knew was possible.

You squirm, feeling another orgasm building inside of you, it was coming at you like a freight train with no sight of slowing down.

Armando grips your hips, hoisting you up and turning you around.

He pushes your head down and you find your self arched—face down ass up.

He lets out a breathy moan as he slips back inside of you, pounding recklessly into your soaking wet pussy from behind.

“Joder, nena, necesito correrme dentro si tú.” Armando moans.

The language doesn’t seep into you, but by the way his groans are slowing turning into whimpers and how his cock is twitching inside of you, you can tell Armando is close to.

Your walls clench around his cock, milking him, as you orgasm builds closer.

“Fuck,” you moan out. “I’m about to cum.”

“Me too!” Armando groans, slamming into you harder then before.

A few more reckless pumps in and out of your tight little pussy and your spilling all over his cock in shouts and moans. Armando isn’t too far behind you, his twitching cock emptying inside of your warm heat.

“maldita mami.” Armando takes a deep breath, wiping the slick sweat off his forehead.

You twist, out of breath and shaking, falling flat onto your back against the bed.

You watch as Armando heads over to the en suite.

He comes back quickly with a two towels.

Sitting beside you he uses the smaller, damp towel to clean up the mess spilling out of you.

You shiver at his touch as he wraps the large towel around your shoulders.

Taking the opportunity, you kiss him gently. “Thank you.”

Armando smirks. “Anytime, bebé.”

Without warning, Armando scoops you up in his strong arms. He carries you bridal style, walking you over to the shower.

“Now, let’s get you all cleaned up.” He says, kissing your cheek.

You smile into the crook of his neck, wondering just how you were going to tell Kelly that you and Armando Aretas have fucking fantastic bed chem.

[lovexjoe]

Some Fatherly Advice

A/N: In need of some father and son moments between Mike and Armando.

Synopsis: Mike gives advice to Armando about Y/N

Y/N and Armando have been best friends for years. The two of them madly in love with each other, but neither of them want to take the risk of admitting it. Y/N is very goal driven, she wants what she wants and refuses to steer away from that. She's 27 and wanting to slow down from AMMO and start a family within the next 4 years. Before Captain's passing he had promised after working with AMMO for 3 years that she will have a position waiting for her in New York that was more laid back.

Today after the debriefing, Rita walks in with balloons and a cake for Y/N. Marcus and Mike being the one to make the announcement

"Happy 3 year to our favorite girl in the world. Since having you join the AMMO squad you have filled us with nothing but sass and goddamn attitude." Mike joked causing us all the laugh. He was half joking cause you always stood on business.

"We love you and girl your new position awaits you in NEW YORKKK" Marcus and Mike cheers as they pop the champagne bottle. Armando looks over at Y/N completely in denial.

"You're moving!?" If looks could break your heart, Armando's puppy eyes would take the trophy. Before Y/N could answer Armando storms out not wanting to listen to anyone. Marcus signals Mike to go talk to him while everyone comforts and congratulates you.

"Hey! Are you out of your mind doing that right now?!" Mike follows Armando to the garage. Armando doesn't say anything, but pace around.

"Oh...you love her don't you?" Armando sighs and nods his head.

"Listen I know im probably the last person you want to go to for advice, but you better go tell her you love her. We both know once that girl got her mind on something there's no changing it. Before she gets on that plane, you tell her cause at least you know you did." Armando looks at Mike for a second before giving him a hug.

"I love you son, now go get your girl. We both know she's the only one who can deal with your ass" Armando laughs and heads back inside.

Y/N was at her desk, eating some cake and finishing up some paperwork.

"Hey beautiful." He slides his computer chair next to hers. Mike and Marcus silently waving everyone out without getting your attention.

"Don't hey beautiful me nothing. You stormed off like a dick." She shoves another piece of cake in her mouth and moves her chair away from him. Oh does he love that attitude of hers. He tries to grab her hand only for her to flick it away. She wasn't having it. He could have congratulated her and excused himself before giving her that energy.

Still ignoring him she clicks print on a few files heading over to the printer then to the elevator. Armando following her, clicking her floor number and giving him a death glare she stays silent. Armando clicks the red button not knowing what it does: just hoping it stopped the elevator.

“Armando! What the fuck! You are so irritating! First first of all you ruined my 3 year celebration by being a grumpy pain in my fucking ass. Then and then you wanna sit next to me while I’m working and think shit is sweet. Guess what?! It’s not! I can’t beli-“ Armando pushes her against the wall and presses his lips to hers. God this women could argue till the earth blew up.

“I’m sorry for ruining the celebration. Just the thought of losing you is hard for me. I love you.” He rest his hand on her cheek, taking in her not so shocked reaction.

“What took you so damn long!” Y/N pulls him back in for a long passionate kiss.

Taglist: @yeahnohoneybye @cardi-bre91 @onlysarang @romanreignsluver1 @minwn

@armandosbabymama @dyttomori @bbyplutosblog @vergilnelosparda @believeinthefireflies95

[entitled-fangirl]

The best thing for Marcus.

Marcus Volturi x human!reader

Summary: His darling mate falls asleep on his throne while he works.

Words: 511 (she's a short one)

Warnings: Too sweet for your teeth maybe? Idk vampires?

Author's note: I love Marcus so much. Younger or older version I literally don't care. He deserves the world, honestly.

Masterlist

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

Marcus stood at the side table in the throne room, books scattered around him and his brothers. His hair is pulled back in a bun to secure it away from his face. He scans each page carefully, flipping through them quite quickly. 

The sound of soft breathing brings him out of his focused mind. His head turns slightly. 

His beautiful mate has fallen asleep on his throne.

Her head rests against one armrest, her legs draping over the other. His lips pull into a small smile as he admires her. The smell of her begins to distract him further, his eyes closing at the smell. This was his favorite smell in the world. The feeling of draining her blood from her body would be the greatest rush of adrenaline he’d ever receive, but he knew if he did so, he would become a hollow form of himself without her.

Aro and Caius are brought out of their work as well, the sight of Marcus in such bliss a welcoming and warming sight. He was a fierce king, but a lovely one at that. Love was what he did best. And while seemingly intolerable at times, his brothers had become harder to give him room to flourish. 

His ears perk up at a sound. A soft, quiet sigh escapes her lips. She was fully relaxed at this stage. Not that Marcus needed to know small facts like that, for he could see it in front of him, himself. His darling dove seemed to be completely relaxed. What he’d do to pick her up now and whisk her away forever. 

He approached her resting body, kneeling down in front of it. How strange to see one of the vampire kings kneeling before his own throne, where a measly sleeping human lay. A gentle hand brushes the hairs from her forehead. “Dove, you must awaken so I may take you to bed properly.”

She stirs slightly, her voice a soft whisper, “No, I… I’m fine. This is fine…”

He chuckled. She was a sweet and affectionate thing, always wanting to be near him. His hand reached to the back of her neck, cradling her head. “I’ll tell you what.”

Her eyes open only slightly more as he continues, “Let’s go to bed, the two of us, until you are well rested.”

She considered the proposal. It did sound rather nice. Her hands reach for his collar, “The entire time? Just the two of us?”

He nods, “Yes, Nightingale. I promise.”

Her arms move further back to wrap around his neck, “Alright.”

He smiles, positioning his hands under her before picking her up easily. He turns, beginning to walk out of the room before stopping. “Dear brothers?”

They both turned to him.

“I am excused for the day. I have other matters to attend to.”

Aro nods, watching Marcus and the human walk away. Oh, how that human would either be the best thing to happen to the Volturi, or the worst.

But one thing is for sure: She was the best thing for Marcus.

[whenmemorydies]

Lessons of a mentor: every second counts

The Bear brainrot continues unabated and a character that has been sitting at the back of my mind since I first watched 2x07 Forks has been Chef Terry. Her influence is felt in a multitude of ways throughout season 2, most notably via the impact she's had on her former chefs, Carmen and Luca. What fascinates me more about Chef Terry though are the parallels between her and Syd and the home truths that both these powerhouse women keep dropping (and which many a loudmouth dude on this show keep missing...*womp*).

Lots more under the cut. This is a long post but this show is so bloody juicy I couldn't help myself!

Who is Chef Terry?

So quick recap: Chef Terry is the Executive Chef at Ever, a 3-Michelin starred restaurant in Chicago, loosely based on and shot on location at the actual Ever. In the show, the restaurant opened in 2012 and was awarded "the best restaurant in the world" that same year.

In 2x07 Forks as Richie walks past portraits of Ever's alumni, we learn that both Carmen and Chef Luca (now based in Copenhagen, Denmark) both worked at the restaurant together, under Chef Terry. This is previously hinted at in 2x04 Honeydew when Luca talks to Marcus about working with a chef who worked "harder and faster than [Luca] ever could," and who inadvertently pushed Luca to get "better than [Luca] possibly could be, just from trying to keep up with him."

Chefs Carmen and Luca at Ever.

In 2x07 Forks, we get Chef Terry's origin story as she recounts it to Richie, who Carmy has sent to Ever to stage for a week. We learn that:

Chef Terry, like Richie and Syd, is an only child. She likely had a tense relationship with her father (who we learn was a Corporal in the military) before he passed, but is incredibly close with her mother, her only living parent.

Carm getting Richie a spot to stage at Ever was not a favour because Chef Terry doesn't do favours:

Chef Terry is quick to praise folks who try to learn. Note when she asks Richie if he'd like to peel mushrooms with her and she tells him that his first attempt is great (despite the fact that process-wise, he peels them in the exact opposite direction she does):

She had previously tried to open "a giant place" years ago when she was younger, and by her own description, "was on fire [and was] arrogant." Chef Terry then says she moved too fast and couldn't keep the place open.

She later opened Ever after coming across the building's "For Lease" sign while walking.

Its clear from her conversation with Richie about Ever's beginnings that Chef Terry is a firm believer in it never being too late to try again:

But for me, the most important thing we learn about Chef Terry in the 5 minutes she's on screen with us, is her belief in time being well spent. When Richie first sees Chef Terry, she's quietly peeling mushrooms by herself in the kitchen. When Richie asks her why she's doing this work, instead of a stage, we get this lovely bit of dialogue:

Chef Terry then goes on to tell Richie about her father and how he kept pocket notebooks in which he made hundreds of entries about different experiences while he was on military tour.

While Chef Terry never tells Richie how her father signed off on each of his pocket notebook entries, its implied by the end of the episode, that The Bear's mantra of "every second counts" originates from those very notebooks.

This was revelatory to me. Up until Chef Terry and Richie's conversation in 2x07 Forks, "every second counts" in this show was synonymous with Carmy's "sense of urgency", taped to the pass in 1x02 Hands and tattooed across his knuckles in the form of "S O U".

Prior to 2x07 Forks, "every second counts" was wrapped up in the frenetic pace of a restaurant's back of house, with Mikey dying well before his time and by his own hand, with the panicked need to fix the regret and broken-heartedness that accompanied years of estrangement, with Donna's litany of cooking timers going off every other minute in a kitchen covered in chaos and passata. It had to do with time slipping away and the persistent, but always losing battle to try and steal it back.

But in Chef Terry's conversation with Richie, it is made clear to the audience that the lesson in "every second counts" is not about speed or clawing anything back. Those notebook entries were not made for any other reason than to describe, remember, and step into a moment. Chef Terry peels mushrooms at first light in her restaurant because it attaches her to her work and connects her to those whose bellies she fills with her food. "Every second counts" is about savouring every second that we have, while we have it, and being present in each of those moments, as much as we can.

Its about realising that every second does count because every second has meaning.

Time spent informed by this knowledge, is time well spent.

Lessons and Parallels with Sydney

Like Chef Terry, Sydney also tried to run her own business, Sheridan Road, but it "got too big too fast", and she was unable to keep up with its demands. As she tells Carmy in 1x05 Sheridan,

My credit got destroyed. I mean, my whole shit got rocked.

The failures of both of their respective businesses pushed both women into the depths of existential crisis. Chef Terry tells Richie how she had been "unemployed, angry, depressed", and "blaming everybody else for all the time I'd lost."

While Sydney never makes an admission like this about the fallout of Sheridan Road, the depth of the impact of that failure on her is clearly apparent in the show, most notably in 2x09 Omelette. In this episode, Syd's father Emmanuel asks her why she is putting so much pressure on herself to be successful with The Bear. Syd responds, its because she doesn't know if she could start another business.

Later in the same episode, we hear Syd's even more vulnerable admission to Carm about her fear of failure, under that pretense for intimacy table.

Like Chef Terry, Sydney does not do favours. Recall when she fixed Tina's bouquet garni-infused cream in 1x04 Dogs after the latter kept ignoring Syd's advice on how to prep the mashed potatoes and ended up ruining her first batch of cream in the process:

Also, bonus Fak attack (lol) from the same episode:

But also like Chef Terry, Syd is generous with her praise when folks try - as opposed to only praising those who succeed. The praise is for the attempt in the moment to grow, not in the growth itself. Recall in 1x02 Hands as Syd calls out orders to Ebra, he falters and says back the wrong count. Syd gently corrects him and Ebra tries again, after which Syd says,

Gorgeous. Thank you, chef.

Its a small moment, but its one of the first times we hear the word "gorgeous" used inside The Beef. You can literally see Carmy's shock at the utterance, at the firm kindness of the exchange between Syd and Ebra. I personally like to think this might also be a moment of recognition for him, where he sees an echo of his mentor, Terry, in the woman he's about to hire as his sous chef.

And finally, of all the characters on this show, the one who seems to best understand that every second counts because every second has meaning, is Sydney. To me this is epitomised by her omnipresent notebooks in which she's always writing, clearly echoing Chef Terry's father and his will to remember the detail.

Sydney's question to her father in 2x09 Omelette is also indicative to me of a person who understands that each moment we have on this tiny blue dot is precious. When Emmanuel tells her that he doesn't think she needs to make everything "the thing" because she will always have his support, Sydney asks him,

Why can't we put everything that we have into everything that we can?

I've no doubt that Sydney's ethos, embodied by this question, is the result of the passing of her mother when she was a child. With that loss, Sydney would have learned from a young age that every second is important. She knows that you can't get more time, so you make the most of that which you have. Or in her words, you put everything you have, into everything that you can.

Its striking to me how differently Syd and Carm have interpreted the intention behind "every second counts" in the context of death and bereavement. Sydney moves through life with a drive borne out of knowing that our lives are finite and so every second contains the potential for possibility. Its why she had the guts to start her own business, had the optimism to apply to work at The Beef under a culinary hero, and had the hope to take a punt with The Bear.

In contrast to this, Carmy rails against time: at the time that he lost with Mikey, at the seconds that he might lose with each hiccup that delays a plate on the pass. For him, there's never enough time because it is constantly being snatched away.

He tells us in 2x03 Sundae that he struggles with being present in the moment and open to the world because he is always waiting for "the other shoe to drop",

I have to remind myself to breathe sometimes. I have to remind myself to be present, you know. Remind myself that the sky is not falling, that there is no other shoe. Which is incredibly difficult because there is always another shoe. I dunno, I think, you know maybe if I could provide more-more-more amusement or-or enjoyment for myself, it would be easier to provide for others, you know.

This isn't to say that Carmy isn't trying. Throughout the show, we've seen glimpses of him stopping to sit within a moment: his making time to talk to Richie about purpose in 2x01 Beef, his constant beckoning to Sydney to "say more" in both seasons 1 and 2, his return to art and drawing in season 2 - an act that physically forces you to slow down and observe detail, his repeated attempts to check in with Natalie about how she's doing despite his discomfort at the question, and most obviously, taking the time to softly, intentionally and unhurriedly comfort a worried Sydney with less than 25 minutes to open on the opening night of their restaurant.

To me, there are a number of reasons why its no surprise that Carmy is drawn to Sydney. I've mentioned a few here in this reply to @mod-doodles. Chief among them though are her consistency, her stability, and her integrity, all informed by Sydney's ethos of putting everything she has into everything she can; into making every second count, just like Carm would have seen his mentor Chef Terry do while he was at Ever.

I reckon Carmy's ultimate challenge in The Bear is going to be getting to the realisation that Chefs Terry, Sydney and even Luca (recall his chat about "openness" with Marcus in 2x04 Honeydew) have already reached: that because every second counts, happiness and peace - indeed amusement and enjoyment - are to be found in the doing, in the process, in the getting there, together. I'm sure by the end of our journey with these lovingly crafted characters, Carm will get there too.

Author's note:

Incidental to the above is this show's God-tier level casting. Storer and Calo have made it a point to cast famous and immensely talented actors in some of the smallest parts on this show...why? I'm thinking specifically of the casting of Jamie Lee Curtis as matriarch/walking emotional vortex Donna Berzatto and Olivia Colman as Capo/Chef Terry. Jamie Lee Curtis appears in The Bear throughout one full episode (2x06 Fishes) and in one scene (with everyone's favourite unproblematic king, Pete) in 2x10 The Bear. Olivia Colman appears in the show for just under 5 minutes, at the end of 2x07 Forks.

I reckon that, while the speaking parts for these characters are relatively small compared to other roles in The Bear, the casting choices here are reflective of the impact of these two characters on Carmen (in particular) and others on the show. The showrunners needed to cast folks whose reputations would precede them in order to instil in us, the audience, the same gravity of their presence as would be felt by the characters in the world of The Bear.

Donna Berzatto:

Donna's impact on the psyches of her children is huge. For evidence of this, watch the faces of Carmen, Natalie and Mikey whenever they're in proximity to their mother in 2x06 Fishes. They are constantly watching her, gauging her reactions and her levels. This is most clearly the case for Natalie who spends most of Fishes in a state of panicked fear, anticipating her mother's every move. Who better to cast as the anxiety-inducing-word-slurring-flirtatious-alcoholic Berzatto matriarch than scream queen, 80s/90s sex symbol and survivor of intergenerational substance abuse, Jamie Lee Curtis?

Chef Terry:

In contrast to Donna, Terry is a stable, consistent force of nature who has mentored successive waves of chefs that have walked through Ever's halls. She's overcome setbacks and had to relaunch herself, doing so with great success, while remaining grounded. While Olivia Colman's been plugging at acting on screen for over twenty years, she didn't reach the height of fame that she's currently enjoying until much later in her career and her life. By many public accounts, she's an incredibly talented, kind and down to earth A-lister. Also this interview with her is so Chef Terry coded I wouldn't be surprised if Calo and Storer read it and offered her the role the next day:

“There’s some amazing actors who don’t get asked back because they don’t behave very nicely,” she said. “Learn your lines, try and know everyone’s name, be on time … There’s a million people who would have your job in a second and more … who are better than you. Take your job seriously and not yourself.”

Without naming names, Colman said: “We all have actor stories of people who were unpleasant, unkind, ungenerous – and it goes around.”

Nor should actors ever become too grand to take on even a short film, she suggested: “Some people might think: ‘I don’t do that any more.’ I think that’s exciting to do. You’re going to meet new people or a new writer who might remember you later on … [Do] not get too up yourself, too grand. Work is work. If I now decided: ‘Oh, I will only do feature films,’ I might not work again.

“If you get accolades for something, enjoy it for a bit, but put it aside and pretend that hasn’t happened a week later. You still need to work and no one else will remember it either after a week. So crack on.”

Yes, Jamie Lee Curtis and Olivia Colman are fantastic actresses who could have acted the pants off their respective roles without their own personal backstories and filmographies doing any lifting...but given the limited time that they're on screen, having actresses who can bring all of that history and shorthand to the role is GOLD for quickly creating meaning and depth for the audience.

As soon as Donna first turned that corner in the kitchen in 2x06 Fishes chaotically balancing a tray of branzino in one hand and a cigarette in the other, yammering about spilling shit everywhere, I knew I was in for a ride. Likewise, as soon as Chef Terry gently suggested where Richie might find the polish he was looking for (instead of biting his head off because he was a mere stage and she was Capo), I knew I needed to be seated for the lesson that 2x07 Forks had been building up to all episode (and indeed that Richie's entire character arc had been building up to for almost two seasons). And phew...did these two brilliant women absolutely deliver.

K that's the end. If you made it this far, DM me because you are probably incredibly patient, kind and like to read and I need more of that energy in my life LOL. Thanks for spending some of your precious time with me <3.

[earl-grey-teacake]

Omg we need the Fernando Aston Martin story! It would be hilarious like just imagine George trying to convince Logan that he should drive for Mercedes but Logan doesn’t even know what he is talking about and because he practised his lines with Fernando he does not agree😂

Sorry it took so long 😅

******

"Logan, what's your favorite team?" George asked, his eyes laser-focused.

Unlike his father, Logan was more preoccupied with the green cap in his arms. "Aston!" He yelled, holding the cap up with the biggest smile on his face.

The response did not elicit the same effect with George sighing and Toto looking displeased, a silent "fix this". Lewis seemed quite amused at the situation, already texting Fred to get a team kit in kids size for Logan.

"No, it's Mercedes. Can you say Mercedes?" Stress evident in George's voice.

"Mercedes!" Logan smiled and pointed at the Mercedes logo in the engineer's room.

Lewis leaned over the table and asked, "Buddy, who's your favorite driver?"

Logan paused for a moment, looking up at the ceiling, his face pensive. "Alonso!"

"Ugh!" George put his head in his hands.

It was bad enough he foolishly let Fernando babysit Logan, "something something bonding with his nephew". Logan had come tottering back, happy from an exciting game of tag and lots of $200 Japanese grapes, going on and on to Shov, Marcus, and Bono about how "Aston was so fun" and their "Car is really fast" and the most egregious of all, "Aston is the best!" "Alonso is the best!"

Some of the engineers smiled while Toto's frown deepened. Lewis laughed, "Why? Why is Alonso your favorite?"

Like being asked to recite the alphabet, Logan recounted the script Fernando had him memorize, earning a fancy grape as a reward for each line he recited perfectly. "Alonso is the bestest driver in the world. He is fast, and cool, and really smart. He is better than the grid.”

Each word was slow, methodical, and said with a smile. Logan looked up expectantly at the crowd, clearly expecting a reward or praise for his perfect recitation.

“I’m going to kill Fernando!” George scowled as James Allison started to look at the upgrade package, deciding on what could be implemented for the next race that would leave Aston Martin in the dust. The others returned to their work, emboldened by a sense of either deep competition or revenge.

“Logan, come here. We’ll leave everyone to do their work” Toto called out. Logan hopped off the car and followed him, the green cap in hand. Maybe with enough treats, Logan can unlearn whatever ridiculous thing Aston Martin taught him. If Mercedes needed to fly in expensive fruit from Japan, they can write it off as a business expense.

Official F1 Group Chat [official use only]

George: watch your back Fernando

Lando: Woah

Max: ???

Charles: is this an official thing?

Carlos: what happened?

Alex: George

Fernando: what did I do?

George: you know what you did! Lance too!

Lance: What did I do?

George: brainwashed my son into an Aston Martin fan

Lando: 😧

Charles: 😮

Max: 😨

Carlos: 😬

Lance: it’s not brainwashing! He just saw the truth😎

Fernando: 😎 no regrets

Lewis: to the brainwashing?

George: I’m sending you both into a wall

Alex: George

Lando: bit of an overreaction

Fernando: Soon Oscar will see the light that is Aston Martin

Lando: Stay away from my son

Carlos: 😨

********

Thank you for the ask! I had a lot of fun answering this!

[chaniceroses]

Bad Boys Ride or Die (Armando x Reader) Part FOUR

You pulled up into the driveway after following Mike and Marcus from seeing Armando.

“I’m guessing this is where Kelly and Dorn are.”, you whispered, looking around to make sure nothing looks suspicious. Getting out of the car, you walked up to Marcus and Mike to see them having an intense conversation. Something must’ve happened.

“Is everything alright?”you asked, looking at both Marcus and Mike.

“Yeah everything is good y/n. Marcus is just trippin.”

“I just don’t think it’s best for y/n to go over and be on the bus by herself. I mean something doesn’t feel right. That is all that I am saying.”

“Look Marcus, I know you’re on this whole spiritual journey with God but we don’t have time for all of that right now.”, Mike sighed walking towards the van. 

You looked at Marcus with a small smile so he knows that you appreciate his worriedness about you. You weren’t scared and you figured that there will be guards there to watch everything, plus you know what you are capable of so if anything was to go down between you and Armando, you’ll be straight.

Walking into the van, you were greeted by Dorn and Kelly at the computers looking at live footage of the precinct and files. 

“This is y/n. Y/n this is Dorn and Kelly.”Mike said, standing over them.

You nodded your head in response as they looked back at you. You watched as they turned around and gave you a small smile. At least they were friendly.

“Who is she?”Kelly asked, looking back at her computer.

“Somebody that is with us now.”

“I thought you rode as a duo.”, Dom replied, spinning his chair around to face Mike and Marcus.

“They do, I’m just here for support.”, you added folding your arm and walking up between Mike and Marcus.

“Well…she’s our partner too but that’s not the point. What do you have to show us?”Marcus replied pointing at the computers.

You watched as Dom looked at you, and then turned around to face his computer.

“We went through all of Captain Conrad Howard's old files and found this video of him. It sounded urgent and we felt it would be important for you guys to watch.” Dom explained searching through his files. Soon a video popped up and it showed Howard at his desk, wearing thick black glasses and looking into the camera.

“ If you are seeing this then I am probably dead. Which I figured may happen. This video is important so I need you boys and y/n to listen. To the boys, I am being framed. All of those operations in the past with the Cubans, Jamaicans and the Cartel were set-ups. I didn’t know. The millions of dollars from all three of those operations were smuggled, I tried to solve the case before it got thrown to you however, obviously I failed and now which it may seems, they are pinning it all on me. I didn’t mean to die and to leave all of the dirty work onto you guys and I apologize for that but I do need you guys to make it right. Go to Fletcher, he has all of the information to help you. He is the only person besides y/n that I trust so make sure you trust no one else. AT ALL. At some point they will try to frame you guys, even y/n”, he explained, taking off the glasses while leaning towards the camera.

The room was tense, you could feel Marcus and Mike intensely stare at you but you never looked their way. Instead you kept your eyes on the screen hoping that Howard would give you the answer to everything that is happening.

“And to y/n. I’m sorry that I got you pulled into this. It wasn’t meant to be this way, especially knowing what you are going through in your personal life and the choices you’ll have to make with your career. Remember our last conversation, I promise it’ll help you out,

You stared at the computer intensively hoping that he wouldn’t slip up and say anything about your career. You haven’t decided on what you wanted to do. Your past sometimes comes back and hunts you and you have people in your world right now that are starting to grow on you.

“What is he talking about?”Mike asked, turning his focus towards you.

You didn’t say anything, instead you kept your attention on the screen. You weren't here for dramatics or for a “kumbaya” , you were here to help out Howard and to be a support to Mike and Marcus.

“Whatever decision that you choose, I hope that it is for the best. I trust you. So remember to watch your back and be sure that you keep your eyes open. Trust absolutely no one but each other…” 

The video went off. There was a huge feeling in your stomach, hearing his voice again but knowing that it’s not for anything good. You scanned over to see everyone looking at you.

“What?”you asked bewildered.

“What was he talking about?”Marcus interrogated, turning towards you.

“Yeah, what did he mean by “decisions”?”

“It’s personal so forget it… He mentioned Fletcher.”, you responded, trying to flip the conversation to what’s important. You could tell that Marcus and Mike wanted to keep asking you questions but you also knew that they knew the time wasn’t right.

“We’ll talk about it later.”, Mike whispered

“Sure.”, you sarcastically responded. Like hell we will. It wasn’t that you don’t trust them, it was just certain people that you like to confide in. You are a private person, never really like expressing your emotions because it always leads to you either getting hurt or crying. Maybe at some point you will.

“Fletcher..”, Dom  stated.

“Yeah let's go find him.”Mike responded, heading towards the door. You and Marcus followed suit and left the van, you could feel the aura from the way he was looking at you.

“Are you riding with us?”he asked, stopping you in your tracks. You thought about it for a second. It would be either: follow them to wherever Fletcher is in peace and silence or ride with Marcus and Mike and be interrogated the whole time. You looked at him and walked up to his car. He followed behind you, opened your door and closed it for you once you were in.

“So what the hell was Captain talking about, are you okay?”Marcus asked, turning around in the passenger seat.

“I’m okay.”, you responded looking at Mike as he got in the car.

“Sure.”

“You know Mike, if she doesn’t want to talk about it. She doesn’t have to.”, Mike shrugged, turning around in his seat. “Just know that we’re always here. Especially me because I'm not a motherfucking pushover like Mike here.”

“Do you plan on leaving? Are you sick? I’m not trying to be a pushover but just know I’m here”Mike asked, looking at you through the rearview mirror. You looked up to make eye-contact with him and then turned away. You didn’t know what you wanted to do right now. All you know is that you want to enjoy the moments that you have right now with them until that time comes to choose. Hopefully it won’t run out.

The entire ride was Marcus scheduling the transportation for Armando and finding Fletcher. Eventually you were led to a random, art-museum club style building. It was nice inside, neon lights and glass sculptures everywhere. You found it fascinating. You didn’t know who Fletcher was so you allowed Marcus and Mike to do all of the talking.

“Fletch, my man!” Mike yelled, walking up towards him to give him dab. You stood back and watched. 

“Hey, Mike…Marcus.”, he replied, smiling at Mike and then giving Marcus a mean stare. Probably bad blood.

“We need information on Howard. He’s being framed and we need your help.”, Marcus said, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah I heard about him. He told me everything that you guys need to know so I can most definitely help you. However, what is the secret word?” 

You watched as Mike and Marcus stared at each other confusingly. Secret Word? What secret word?

“Please?”

“Nope.”

“Bad Boys?”

“Nada.”

“Man. Cmon, we're in a hurry! This is urgent and important.”, Marcus shouted looking up at him. 

You watched as Fletch scanned around the room, at different arts. What is he trying to say?

“It’s a nice place isn't it? Look around.” You examined the area and saw nothing. Fletcher was pointing his head towards a certain area, however you weren’t able to pick up on it.

“Look Right the-” right before he was about to tell you, you heard a  gunshot go off which led to Fletcher being laid across the ground.

“Oh my gosh.”, you whispered. You ran up to him to see if you could feel any pulse, however there was nothing. You looked at where he was shot to see a clean hole through his head. You stood up to see everyone running and screaming. 

“Y/N!”Marcus yelled, pointing towards something behind you. You turned to see a man racing towards you at full speed. 

“Oh shit.”, you thought. He grabbed you by your neck with one hand and threw you against a wall. Punching you in your face and your stomach. You winced in pain. You turned your head to see Mike running towards you and Marcus shooting at others. Kicking him in the balls, you wrapped your legs around his torso while gauging at his eyes. Blood started trailing down which led to the man finally  letting go.

“HELP MARCUS!”, you yelled running up to the man that strangled you, pulling the gun from your bra and shooting him. You watched as the man's body went limp. Running over to Marcus and Mike, you saw a man in a dark lighted area, leaving the building. When you turn to notify Mike, he was already on it.

You and Marcus followed after him and ended up splitting ways onto the road that was in front of the building.

You ran as hard as you could until you spotted the man that shot Fletcher. You watched as he got onto the door that was open in the back of the van and turned around. Your heart stopped and the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. You ended up stopping in your tracks from running after him.

“Y/n.”, he said while looking at you. A small vicious smile appeared across his face and his eyes stared into your soul.  You felt there was nothing that you could do, your body tensed up while you watched as he sped off.

“He’s still alive?”, you whispered to yourself. You started running out towards the van that was now driving in the middle of the road, when you noticed the van coming full speed at Mike while he was on the ground. He was grabbing his heart.

“Mike!”, you yelled running towards him while shooting at the van. It wouldn’t have made any difference since you were behind the van but at least you could shoot a tire out so it wouldn’t run him over. You watched as Mike was pushed over while Marcus was on top, right before the vehicle could run Mike over. What the hell happened. You watched as they got up and started looking around in a worried manner. Once they spotted you, they sighed as if they were holding in their breath the whole time. You ran up to them, while holding your side due to the pain that was happening. 

“Are yall okay?”, you asked, looking at the direction the van went. You didn’t know that he was alive, you thought that he was dead. What the hell is he doing and who were those people he was with. A million questions started sprinting through your mind and your heart felt that it was about to come out of your chest.

“Who the hell were those people.”, Marcus asked, looking in the same direction you were looking at. Mike followed suit.

“Who was that guy that shot Fletcher.”, Mike added, still holding on to his chest. You continued to look down the road, at this point, you didn’t know what you were searching for. You just knew that things just became extremely difficult, especially between you, Mike and Marcus. You weren’t sure whether or not to say anything so you allowed silence to be your answer. As it always is.

“Let’s go back to Fletcher.”, Mike responded. You grabbed his arm and wrapped it around your shoulders so that he could have support. Mike followed after you and held onto his side. The walk back was extremely dreadful but the pieces were slowly coming together. 

Eventually, the three of you made it back to the building to see it completely destroyed. Dead bodies everywhere, people hurt, broken art, cops and the medics everywhere.

“Someone check Mike now.”, you demanded removing his arm from around you while guiding him to sit at the nearest chair. 

“I think he was shot.”, Marcus added, waving someone over. You watched as someone came over and started analyzing him. You cleared your throat due to the uncomfortable feeling that was occurring.

“I’m going to have bruises all over me tomorrow.”, you thought. 

“He’s all fine. He had a panic attack. Which can happen in these kind of…moments.”, the man replied, moving his stethoscope from Mike’s chest.

“Panic Attack? No. I didn’t. I’m fine.”, Mike replied, moving the guy out of his way.

“Mike, it's fine if you had one…we're all human.”, Marcus smiled following behind him. 

You whispered to the guy and thanked him, then trailed behind Marcus and Mike. You needed to get home and get cleaned up. 

“Guys drop me off.”

“We need to head over to the precinct and explain to Rita what just happened and allow Kelly and Dom to scan the code.”, Mike explained as he was getting into the car.

“I know but this is extremely urgent. Especially after what had just occurred. We are all probably marked, which means they probably know where we live.”, you explained shutting your door. “I’ll call and come to you guys.”

 You were terrified. You weren’t anywhere close to your house since Fletcher’s place was on the other side of the city. Which means by the time you get home and get the things you need. It’ll be dark and hard to see.

Marcus and Mike replied in agreement and took you home. You were silent the whole drive. Things have fallen out of place and now you and the boys are being targeted. You didn’t know what to think anymore and by the looks of it, a direct “plan” wouldn’t help. All you could think about was what Howard said in the video…

“Keep your eyes open…”

[idontknowwhatimdoinglol]

Can you write yandere poly volturi kings and soulmate reader ? Please

ofc anon <3

I'm getting a slight feeling my volturi works are popular lol. Since these all tie in together I'm just gonna do them in one longer post <3

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

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Aro Volturi

aro is an obsessive yandere. he isn't the worst of the kings to get but isn't the best either.

he will keep you at his side at all times, in bed or in the throne room with you beside his throne, he wont ever let you have a moment without him.

he wont give you the choice of mortal or immortal he will turn you upon meeting. after all you'll be his forever so names and dates can happen later.

he wont allow anyone besides those he trusts near you, and anyone else who dares try to speak to you will die.

you'll never escape him, he practically has the entire volturi guarding you so theres no chance of ever leaving him.

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

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Caius Volturi

of the three kings, Caius is the worst to get, both as a soulmate and yandere.

Don't get me wrong he will still love you and give you subtle affection but nowhere near as much as the other two.

he would keep you close, practically locked away in a room for his eyes only in fear of you running away or someone stealing you.

like aro, if he ever saw anyone who he did not approve of you talking to then he will not hesitate to tear them apart, even if you're standing there.

if you ever by miracle managed to escape from him expect that you will lose any bit of freedom when he catches you. because he will lock you away.

you will not be given a choice to turn or not. he will turn you and you will accept it or he will lock you away until you do.

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

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Marcus volturi

he would be the best of the kings to have as your soulmate and yandere.

he would never lay a finger on you to hurt you, the worst punishment he will ever give you is forced affection.

he will turn you, but he would be gentle about it, apologizing the entire time and talking of how he had to turn you so that he wouldn't lose you.

he will spoil you, giving you presents like jewelry and books. he would give you the world if you asked for it, he just wants to see his mate happy.

it would break him if you ever escaped, he would be so hurt that after all he did you left him.

of course he wouldn't let you leave for long, he would send Felix or Demetri to return you. and once back he wont punish you, he'll just claim that he hasnt been giving you enough love and that hes not angry for you leaving. after of course chaining your leg to the bed so you cant do it again.

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

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Poly volturi

if you had all three of the kings as yandere's and soulmates then you are never seeing the light of day or anything out of the castle again.

they are obsessive and impossible to escape on their own but together you'll never be without at least one of them.

aro and Caius will ensure that no one besides them talks to you, while marcus try's to convince them not to kill anyone who does.

you will be turned by them, no matter what you will. just hope that its marcus or aro who does it because caius will be quite rough while doing it.

they will of course become jealous of each other, marcus is the nicest so the other two will be jealous of how you lean to him more. aro keeps you by his side most of the time and the others get jealous over him spending the most time with you. caius is the type to lock you in his room and keep you to himself for however long he pleases which causes anger more then jealousy in the others.

youre not escaping, there is no way that you can manage to escape them unless you have some insane gift that can fight off the entire volturi.

you're theirs for all eternity it doesn't matter if theyre together or separate you will not escape them.

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

[tokkiwrites]

Could you do Marcus Acacius x princess!f!reader

A Roman Empire has a ball. you are bit nervous around people in the ball.

Your father just wants best for you literally stand beside your father. You are gonna excuse yourself. Get some air. You walk as you trip someone that your apologies He was holding your waist so that you don't trip over. You two eyes are met. But you let go all the sudden. He was quite interested to you.

You walk back as he asked for a dance. You take his hand As you two dance along. You two were talking that about life. He was impressed about you.

Along with dancing, the dance was over as he kisses your hand for honor and wisdom.

(Hope you will write it, thank you and have a wonderful day)

thank you for this request! i hope it's what you envisioned • reqs

marcus acacius x princess!f!reader

The grand hall of the Roman palace was bathed in golden light as the ball unfolded in full splendor. The scent of roses and rich spices filled the air, mixing with the laughter and conversation of the empire’s finest nobility. You stood by your father’s side, your hands clasped together tightly. The elaborate folds of your gown swept across the marble floor, but you hardly noticed. Your heart was beating rapidly, nerves fluttering in your chest.

Your father’s eyes softened as he looked down at you. He only wanted the best for you. You knew that, but sometimes the weight of expectation felt heavy on your shoulders. “You’ll be fine, my daughter. Look around—everyone is here to celebrate,” he said reassuringly, giving your arm a gentle squeeze. You nodded politely, though the pressure didn’t ease. It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy these events, but the sea of unfamiliar faces, the expectant glances, and the conversations filled with formality made you feel out of place. You needed a moment to breathe, to escape from the intensity of it all.

“I think I’ll get some air,” you whispered to your father, who gave you a small nod of understanding.

You quietly slipped away from the crowd, weaving through the throngs of elegantly dressed nobles. As you made your way toward the quieter corners of the palace, your mind was occupied, and you didn’t notice when your foot caught on the edge of your gown. You gasped softly as you began to stumble. Before you could hit the ground, a strong hand caught your waist, steadying you with surprising grace. Startled, you looked up, your eyes locking with the man who had saved you from your fall. His dark eyes were intense but kind, framed by sharp, handsome features. His hold was firm, and for a brief moment, the world around you seemed to slow.

“My apologies,” you said quickly, your voice soft but embarrassed as you stepped back, releasing yourself from his hold.

“There is nothing to apologize for,” he said with a slight smile, his voice rich and smooth. “I’m just glad you weren’t hurt.”

You gave a polite nod, feeling heat rise in your cheeks, and turned to walk back toward the ballroom. But before you could slip away, his voice stopped you.

“May I have the honor of a dance?”

You paused, glancing over your shoulder. His eyes were still on you, a curious glint in them. There was something about him—his presence was commanding yet not overbearing, his interest genuine. Despite your nerves, you found yourself giving a small nod. “Yes." He extended his hand, and you took it. His touch was warm and steady as he led you back toward the ballroom floor. The music swelled around you as you both moved into the dance. The crowd seemed to fade away as you glided across the floor, his steps perfectly matched with yours. “What brings you to this ball, then?” he asked as the two of you twirled gracefully. “My father, the king.” you said, feeling the need to be honest. “He wishes for me to be seen, to…make alliances.” He gave a small, knowing smile. “And what do you wish for?”

You hesitated for a moment, then decided to answer truthfully. “I wish for more than just alliances. I want to live a life of meaning, of adventure. To do something more than what’s expected of me.” His eyes lit up with admiration. “That is rare,” he said, his voice thoughtful. “Most would simply accept the path laid before them, but you want something different.” You nodded, feeling more comfortable with him as the dance continued. “And you?” you asked. “What do you seek?”

“Purpose,” he said simply. “To serve the empire, yes, but to also find something that makes life worth more than just duty. Something, or someone, worth fighting for.” His words stirred something in you, and for a moment, you felt like the two of you were the only ones in the room. As the dance came to a close, the music slowing to its final notes, he gently lifted your hand to his lips, brushing a soft kiss against your knuckles. “For honor and wisdom,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. Your breath caught in your throat at the gesture. There was something undeniably compelling about him, something that made you feel as though your paths were meant to cross. “Thank you,” you whispered, a small smile tugging at your lips. He released your hand, but you could feel his gaze on you as you stepped back. You turned to rejoin your father, the moment lingering in your mind.

As you moved through the ballroom, you glanced over your shoulder one last time, and your eyes met his again across the room. Marcus Acacius, as you had learned his name during the dance, stood tall, watching you with the same interest he had shown when he first caught you. You couldn’t help but wonder what the future held.

[iateyourparents]

Not sure if you write for Harry Styles but what if r met h in high school and they were dating but after graduation they parted they ways and yhen few years later she meets him and they start again and she gets to know that some of his songs are abt her?

I love your writing for S&C!!!

Adore you | h.s.

pairing: harry styles x fem!reader

summary: you run into harry after years of not seeing him.

warnings: use of y/n, bad writing and grammar(i’m sorry but english isn’t my first language)

an: so it’s my first time writing for harry but i absolutely adore this man with my whole heart so i gladly wrote this! thank you sm, hope you like it <33

pictures are from pinterest :)

If someone told you that your ex would end up as a worldwide famous singer, you would believe them in a second.

Harry always had a thing for singing and he was really good at it so when he told you he wanted to audition for xfactor you were all in to support him.

He succeeded, like you knew he would, and was put in a band with four other boys. That was when your ways parted. He started writing songs, making album and had few little gigs to make their band known. And you wanted to focus on school, on your future.

As much as you both wanted to make it and keep your relationship alive, you knew it would be naive to hope for it. He was about to be famous and travel the world and you wanted to study and make a mark with your name in the world of medicine.

So you parted your ways and you haven’t heard of Harry or One Direction for some time, until two years later when they started becoming one of the bigger bands in the music industry.

He achieved it. You always knew he was made to be someone. He deserved to be someone.

He was kind, selfless and practically wore his heart on his sleeve. If someone was a good celebrity material, it was him.

Sometimes, you found yourself following his career, cheering on him and wishing him all the best.

Years were passing, One Direction went on a break that was lasting longer than they promised and all of the boys started to make their own history.

Harry just released his third own album and you couldn’t be happier for him, although you didn’t follow him as much as you used to.

Actually, you practically didn’t follow him at all. All you knew was what you heard on radio on your way from work to home.

You were achieving your goals too. You became a doctor, a good one, known in whole UK. You were young but you already did more than some older doctors.

Your name was well known in medical world and you couldn’t be happier with how your career worked out.

Although, sometimes you wished you chose some other life path.

For example, you wished it right now while looking at two teenagers sitting on a hospital bed. They were glued to themselves and it wouldn’t be a problem if they weren’t glued with an actual glue. To make it worse, it was really old glue and it was causing health problems for both of the teenagers and one was about to pass out from all the coughing.

“Alright, we need to make sure that all their organs are okay, Marcus’ father said he saw them eating that glue.” you grimaced “Run all the tests and draw blood from both of them.” you ordered your interns who quickly went to patients.

Few hours later you were finally able to go home and you couldn’t wait to finally take a warm shower and change scrubs to comfortable pajama.

But first, you had to go grocery shopping. You were thinking about going home first to change but you knew if you get to home you wouldn’t be able to get out of bed again.

So now you were in the grocery store looking at all the cereal searching for your favorite ones. You finally noticed them but they were in completely other place. Usually, they were on a second shelf and now they were all the way up on the highest one. One that was too high for you to reach.

But you tried anyway. And you failed.

You heard a deep chuckle behind you and then a male voice “Need any help?”

You turned around with bright smile “Yes, please.”

Man, who looked weirdly familiar to you, reached a cereal cartoon without any struggle and handed it to you with a smile.

“Here.” you took the cartoon while he was looking at your face “Do I know you? You look familiar.” he stated and you searched his face to see something that would give you a clue who he was.

Then it hit you.

“Harry?” the man nodded “Oh my god, you changed so much.”

Man furrowed his brows and suddenly his eyes widened “Y/n?” you nodded with small smile “Oh god, it’s good to see you.” he hugged you.

“Visiting family?” you asked and he nodded “How’s famous life treating you?”

“Good, I just published my newest album.” he looked proud of himself and it was really adorable.

“I heard.” you nodded with a smile “Congratulations.”

“Thank you. Did you hear any songs?” he asked unsure.

“No, sorry. I don’t really have time for music. My life last few days looked like sleep, work, sleep, work, shopping, sleep and work.” you laughed and he smiled with amusement.

“Sounds like you, always so ambitious.” he looked over you “So how’s being a well known surgeon? I heard amazing things about you.”

“It’s… certainly something.” you nodded slowly “I love my work but some things I see… Damn.” you shrugged and he laughed.

“I’m happy you’re good, I thought of you few days ago.” Harry stated and you raised your brow.

“Mr. Famous thought about me? How flattering.” you teased and he chuckled “I have to go home, my bed is calling but we should meet someday when you will be in town.” you offered and he nodded vigorously with a grin.

“I’m staying for a few weeks at my mum’s, we can arrange something. We definitely should catch up. Here, give me your number.” he handed you his phone and you added your contact.

“Well then, see you around Harry. And thanks for your help.” you flashed him with a smile which he returned and you went to a cash station.

Next day you got a text from an unknown number which turned out to be Harry’s number. He asked when you had time to meet.

Finally, you both decided to meet on a Saturday. To make it funnier, Harry offered to meet at the coffee shop that you often visited while being together.

On a Saturday you felt nervous. You didn’t see him for a long time and you weren’t sure how it would turn out, if you even will be able to maintain an interesing conversation without it being awkward.

But here you were, sitting in front of Harry, drinking tea and eating delicious muffins while talking and laughing about old times.

“I never thought that the audition would turn out this well.” he admitted with small smile.

“I knew it would.” you stated “You’re too good to not be noticed, although your hey sister was terrible.” you snickered and he smiled amused.

“I was nervous!” he huffed “If it wasn’t for you I’m not sure if I would actually get on that stage, you were my lucky charm.”

You looked at him with a touched smile “I was cheering for you even when we weren’t talking anymore.” you admitted “I always knew you would be someone important and look at you, you’re saving teenagers’ lives and make great music.”

You could see faint blush on his cheeks and the bashful smile was just cute.

“Well, I guess I wouldn’t be where I’m if not your cheering.” he chuckled “I only regret that our ways parted. I wish we maintained contact. I missed you.”

“I missed you too Harry.” you said hoping you didn’t blush “But at least we’re here now and it feels good.”

“Yeah it does.” he agreed with a smile that made your heart race. You knew that smile, he was sending it your ways on daily basis when you were together. It was this cute smirk with dreamy eyes and it just made you feel weak in knees.

Apparently some things never change, because it made you feel just the same as years ago.

And you’re not sure how it happened but next morning you woke up with Harry’s bare chest as your pillow.

But you weren’t complaining.

“Seriously?” you laughed while making breakfast with Harry. He was talking about the time when he was in One Direction “I always thought that it was just a song about good song.”

“Well, most of ours song had hidden dirty meaning.” he laughed too.

“What about your songs? Any dirty meanings?” you teased and he blushed.

Your morning together turned to spending whole day together.

“You can stay for the night.” you offered when he said he should get going.

“I don’t want to bother you.” he giggled.

“You’re not bothering, I like having you here.” you admitted and you were praying to not blush when he smirked at you.

“Good to know. I will gladly stay if you’re sure.” he said “But let me know if you will be sick of me.”

“That wouldn’t be possible.” you rolled your eyes hitting his chest with your hand which he catched and squeezed in his bigger one “You’re the sweetest person alive, you would have to kill my dog to make me hate you.”

“Sure.” now he rolled his eyes “You have a dog?”

“No.” you pouted “I wish but I’m rarely home and I wouldn’t want to leave a dog alone.” you explained and he nodded in understanding “What about you? Any pets?”

“Not really, I’m also rarely home when touring.” he shrugged.

And somehow this conversation turned into talking about his songs.

“And which ones do you like?” he looked at you with a small smile. You wouldn’t admit it out loud but in last few days his songs were on repeat so you wouldn’t be in dark when he would be talking about his career.

“Hm, I really like Carolina and little freak.” you stated after a moment of thinking. You noticed how Harry moved weirdly after your words “Is there something wrong?” you asked worriedly.

“No no.” he assured you “What do you like about Carolina?” he tilted his head looking curiously at you while still holding your hand.

“I don’t know, I just like it.” you shrugged “Why are you asking?”

“You didn’t notice, did you?” he laughed.

“Notice what?” you smiled with small confusion.

“Carolina, Adore you, Only Angel, Woman?” he furrowed his eyes.

“What about them?”

“God, woman. They are about you.” he huffed with amusement and your eyes widened.

“What?” you were sure you were a blushing mess at the moment.

“Carolina? It’s literally your description, you moved because your grandmother offered you and your parents to, you always had books with you and liked to compare life to books.” he explained “Oh, and you have cousins in Carolina!”

All he said was true and you actually realized it in fact was actually a song about you.

“Why would you wrote about me?” you asked quietly playing with his fingers.

“I was so in love with you. My first ever song that I writed was about you.” he admitted “Only angel. I changed it a bit before releasing it because I was teenager while I wrote and it was a slight disaster but it turned out great.”

“I’m not sure what to say.” you chuckled “Adore you is about me?”

“Yeah, I would go through hell for you.” he stated and you noticed that he didn’t use past tense.

“So am I so kind of inspiration for you?” you teased but he answered completely seriously.

“Yeah, you are big inspiration. Most of my songs have something about you in them even if they aren’t exactly about you.” he admitted bashfully “I was completely head over heels for you. And I think I still adore you.”

And if you were his inspiration for next lovely album that he made as a gift for you for your first anniversary, that’s just a bonus.

[nolita-fairytale]

don't you worry, there's still time | chef luca x fem!reader, feat. marcus brooks

summary: after losing his mother, marcus searches for joy and stillness in copenhagen. you and luca, who are more than happy to host, decide to take a big next step in your relationship. a oneshot from the world of 'burn your life down.'

warnings: fluff, light angst, grief, death, light smut, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, off-canon connection to the storyline of the bear.

word count: 5.8k

listen to: the playlist

a/n: wow, i missed this world! who is ready for the reveal of chef's restaurant name?! while i don't think i have the bandwidth to write another full series (nor a linear story to tell) i'm thinking of creating a second part to 'burn your life down' where we just get to drop in and see what they're up to. thoughts??

chef luca masterlist | full masterlist

After a tumultuous holiday season, it doesn’t take long for Sydney to realize that her friend is in need of a little help. A reprieve, she so kindly explained to both Marcus and Carmy when she’d proposed the idea. 

It was Sydney this time, who called Luca, knowing that she and Carmy would have to find something to do with Marcus. It wasn’t fair – that he’d lost his mom just before Thanksgiving – and they both agreed that Marcus needed to get out of dodge. Quick to act, Carmy set up a few stages in NYC for a week or so, which, while seemed to inspire Marcus, seemed to only plunge him further into a slump come Christmas. “I don’t know. I think we gotta send him on some kinda… eat, pray, love trip. The guy can only sulk on my couch for so long before I consider jumping out of the window,” Sydney says, her attempt to lighten the mood with humor still genuine. “It’s getting sad, Carm. Like… real fuckin’ sad.”

“You’re right. Uh… what about Copenhagen?” Carmy pitches with a shrug, because he knows what all consuming grief feels like. 

“Again?” she asks, uncertain of whether it’s the best choice that they could make. 

“Yeah,” Carmy shrugs in response. “Think he got a lot of it last time. Could be good for him to go back to somewhere familiar… work with Luca again. You don’t think it’s a-?”

“No I do! I just-,” Sydney hesitates, though she knows her business partner makes a good point. “Familiarity will be good for him. To be around people he can trust.”

“You want me to uh-,” Carmy begins to offer, figuring he’ll make the call. 

“Probably best if I explain the situation. Just ‘cause, you know, I know more of what’s going on… just send me his info and I’ll call later,” Sydney interjects. 

Carmy agrees with a curt nod before adding in:

“Uh… okay yeah. Yeah.”

*

You get plenty of time to prepare for Marcus’ visit, performing all kinds of fancy footwork to arrange a proper visit – a week’s worth of time spent staging and living in Copenhagen. When Luca finds out that the prolific houseboat, a chef retreat of sorts that’s always been an option for lodging, is booked for the week and a half that Marcus plans on visiting, you offer up your place without hesitation. 

The arrangement goes as follows: while Marcus stays at yours at no cost, you’ll stay with Luca for the duration of the time. 

This is how you find yourself at the massive Ikea on Dybbølsbro on a Saturday morning with Luca, in search of a set of fresh bed linens intended for guests. 

“I really should host more. And Astrid said she and Lina were planning a trip out here so… why not kill two birds with one stone?” you’d reasoned to your boyfriend, making a strong case for why you and Luca should make this little shopping trip. 

“What do you think of the blue?” Luca asks you, as you run your hand over a set of the display sheets, checking for softness. 

“Don’t know if the blue is what I’m going for. I was thinking of something warmer. Maybe a yellow or… I don’t know. I’ve kind of been into that trendy rust color as of late,” you reply with a shrug, moving onto the warmer colors. 

Luca chuckles and with a small shake of his head, he clarifies his previous questions with:

“No, I meant for me.”

“What do you mean?” you ask him curiously, his comment pulling all of your focus as you search his face for answers. “You just got new bedding.” 

And expensive ones too. 

But as your eyes follow his gaze, you realize that he’s not talking about sheets, focused on the XL Twin-sized duvets just above where the sheets messily fall along the shelf. 

“I was thinking…” Luca trails off, checking in with you before he continues, with “... maybe it’s time I get two duvets… you know… for us.” He takes a beat, and a step towards you, and you know you’ll never stand a chance against his boyish charm as one side of his mouth turns up into a smile. 

You’re no stranger to the Scandinavian duvet method – two twin duvets for one king sized bed – but it sounds like Luca’s suggestion is about way more than buying an extra duvet on this trip. 

“I want you to feel at home… at my place."

“I do,” you reply, almost instantly, a warmth spreading through your belly as you take a step towards him. 

“But I mean really… feel like it’s your home. Because it is. It could be. You know… if you want it to be,” Luca continues, this time with more insistence, a look of hopefulness in his deep blue eyes. 

“Are you… are you asking me to move in with you?” you manage to get out, your heart skipping a beat. 

“Why not? We could use this week to try it out,” he suggests so casually that you practically have to do a double take. “See how it goes while Marcus stays at your place?”

“Yeah I-... that sounds like a good plan, yeah,” you stammer out, the grin on your face undeniable as you nod enthusiastically in the middle of a goddamn furniture store. 

“Besides,” Luca says, clearing his throat as his tone changes to one that’s much more playful. “You’re an absolute blanket hog and a repeat offender at that.” Luca winks your way as you roll your eyes with a laugh in response. “This could prevent some of our silly little quarrels, don’t you think, love?” 

“Uh huh,” you sound, your face skeptical as you look his way again. “Preventative measures. Sure, babe.”

Luca chuckles before leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your lips, right then and there, in the Ikea bed linen section, the place you’ll now forever think of as the place your boyfriend asked you to move in with him.

Connection

When Marcus arrives in Copenhagen, you’ve arranged your home with the most comfort in mind, having already packed a week’s worth of things and left for Luca’s. You can only imagine what he must be going through, deciding that something like that – losing your mother – though inevitable, is your goddamn worst nightmare. 

“Marcus, 

Enjoy your stay and please reach out if you need anything. I can’t wait to meet you!”

…is the note that you leave him, along with a few morning pastries you picked up from your favorite baggeri across the street, and your number scribbled down at the bottom of the notepad. 

As Marcus arrives, his eyes drawn immediately to your note and gift, Marcus smiles to himself, noticing that you left a very nice looking bottle of wine on the counter as well. He’s moved by your generosity, considering you’ve never met, and the fact that you’re willing to take so much care, extend this much kindness to a stranger, causes a wave of softness to wash over him. 

Maybe, just maybe, he can find softness again – the last few months riddled with pain, grief, and numbness to get through the days. 

While he came here to work, encouraged by his friends that a change of scenery may do his broken heart some good, it’s the first time Marcus has had a chance to be still. His feelings of grief sit heavier here and it catches him off guard, uncertain that he’s quite ready to sit with them yet. He pushes aside the thought, focusing on exploring your home and unpacking his bags. Marcus knows how to stay busy – he’s become an expert at it by now – reminding himself that he’s got work at 5 am sharp tomorrow.

*

“A little too much, chef. Take it down by about 15 grams,” Luca directs, his voice even and sure as he inspects the balls of dough that Marcus currently shapes. 

“Yes, chef,” Marcus nods in understanding, plopping the ball of dough back on the scale to adjust the measurement. 

The two of them work like this for the rest of the morning, Luca treading carefully while keeping things professional, while Marcus buries himself in the work – something that feels good, safe, right. 

He’s missed this. While Marcus has one chef he works with directly at the restaurant, he’s the expert – the head patissier. He misses being surrounded by excellence, getting to be a student of someone who is just as driven, if not more, and inspired. It’s good, quiet, calm, yet there’s a focus and intensity in Luca’s kitchen that feels like a breath of fresh air. 

His stage trip to New York has been more of a mess than beneficial. Maybe it had been the chaos of the city, or the chaos of the chefs he was working with. Maybe it was the fact that Marcus, though hungry for a distraction, hadn’t quite been ready to walk directly into the line of fire yet.

As Marcus’ practiced hands move with the dough, there’s a newfound confidence in the way that he works that's not lost on Luca. Luca watches his friend carefully, pride swelling in his chest as his mentee makes the adjustment with ease and diligence.

“Can I join you?” Luca asks, gesturing towards Marcus' workstation. 

“‘Course, chef,” Marcus replies, his response short yet reverent. 

As Luca joins him, finding a space to the right of Marcus, he busies his hands with rolling each perfectly measured ball of dough into mini boules, ready to proof. The two of them work quietly, side by side, the air between them heavy with words unsaid. He can feel it – the weight that lays so heavily on Marcus' heart – but Luca doesn’t want to bring it up, uninterested in forcing the conversation. Especially about something so painful, something he knows that Marcus has barely begun working through. 

“Thanks, again. For uh… you know… letting me come work,” Marcus begins, momentarily checking in with Luca to gauge a reaction. 

“‘Course,” Luca replies, his answer instantaneous. “You’re welcome here any time, mate.” 

“Yeah?” Marcus asks, stealing a glance in Luca’s direction.

“Yeah,” Luca responds with a certain nod. 

“And uh… shit. I can’t thank your girlfriend enough for letting me crash at her place,” Marcus adds, as he works through his discomfort and overwhelm from the wave of feelings that begin to bubble up in his chest.

“You can thank her yourself on Saturday,” Luca brings up, excited over the fact that Marcus will not only be meeting his girlfriend, but staging at her restaurant too. “She’s really looking forward to meeting you.” 

Marcus nods slowly, his hands the only steady thing about him as he continues to focus on his work. 

“I just mean-, well, she didn’t have to-. ‘S not like either of you owed it to me or anything and I-. You guys just really came through…” Marcus trails off, wanting to make his gratitude clear. It means more to him that he can articulate so instead he settles for, “So thank you. Again.”

Luca shrugs with an aplomb about him as he returns with, “We got you, mate.” He pauses before continuing, fully aware that Marcus isn’t quite comfortable with the feelings that have presented themself in this moment. “And the way I see it, I wouldn’t have met her if it weren’t for you – for our conversation the last time you were here – so we really do owe you for it.”

This time Luca makes an effort to check in with Marcus, gauging his emotional capacity as he concludes with:

“But that’s not what any of this is about: debts, who owes who what. We were both more than happy to host you. That’s what mates are for.”

It’s not till the end of the next shift that it hits him, and Marcus finds himself sitting outside of the restaurant on a bench across the street. He’s not sure whether it’s the jet lag or the exhaustion of the 5 am start time in another time zone, but it hits him all at once, like a ton of bricks. Suddenly consumed with the feelings that he’s been trying his best to avoid, all he can do is pause, completely caught off guard by the strength of them. 

Quietly, Luca joins him, having spotted him on his way home, rerouting himself in Marcus’ direction instead. 

All he can think of are the words you’ve asked him, and he you, time and time again – the ones that cut right to the core of you each and every time – that show you how much he cares. 

“How’s your heart?” Luca asks Marcus, after a few minutes of sitting on the bench together in silence. 

And how is his heart? 

He’s not sure how to answer, considering it’s been a while since he’s really had a chance to check in, the crippling reality of this great loss is too much to bear alone. 

His heart is broken, shattered into an infinite amount of pieces. 

He, and his heart will never be the same again and he doesn’t know where or how he’ll ever put it back together. 

His heart is… lost, in desperate need of finding a soft place to land. 

Marcus takes a while to answer, racking his brain for any semblance of a cohesive answer. 

He waits. And then he waits. 

Until finally, he can answer. 

“I uh… don’t know. But I’m hoping this trip will help me figure that out.”

Creativity 

“do you remember the 21st night of september? love was changin' the minds of pretenders while chasin' the clouds away.” (earth, wind, and fire.)

Everything about the way you run your kitchen feels different than what he’s used to. 

It’s sure as hell different from his last stage trip to New York, Marcus thinks to himself.

With Carmy and Syd, working with them, there’s a buzz of chaos that runs underneath even the most organized and efficient service. It’s something integral to what they have, gives an edge to The Bear that seems to make it hum in all the right ways. Even with Luca, who comes from fine dining and Michelin-starred restaurants, there’s a quiet and determined focus – an intensity to his work – even without the undercurrent of chaos. 

But this. But you. 

Your kitchen somehow teeters the line of organized chaos and reckless play so well that Marcus understands why this works – why it’s efficient. 

Still, he watches as you and your staff dance – no, literally dance – around each other to the highly recognizable Earth, Wind, and Fire tune. Mathilde sings along while chopping chives for the brothy mushroom grain bowl, while, mid-phrase, manages to yell out a short command to a line cook in Danish. Out of the corner of his eye, Marcus catches Jesper working the dining room, while you finish plating two more dishes, ready to be walked out. 

It’s as if you find focus in the center of all the noise, somewhere between the electric energy between you, Mathilde, and your staff, and the feel-good vibes and homeyness of the restaurant that you’ve created. 

You had been more than welcoming when Marcus had walked through the doors of your restaurant, Kokuore, mere hours ago. You’d given him the tour, shown him which station he’d be working this evening, then warmly introduced him to your entire team before family meal started. Marcus can’t stop moving, too afraid to be still in fear of falling apart in the presence of how comforting you’ve been. 

And this? Your kitchen. It’s all joy, connection, and artistry. 

It’s not hard for him to see why Luca fell in love with you. 

“Marcus, feel free to take a break,” he hears you say, as you nod towards the dining room through the open kitchen. 

As Marcus follows your gesture, he notices that Luca’s arrived, remembering something about a standing Saturday date. 

“You sure, chef?” Marcus asks, looking to you for approval. 

“Positive,” you nod, reassuringly.

Marcus nods in return to confirm, before taking his apron off and making his way over to the dining room where Luca is exchanging a few words with Jesper. 

“Wassup, chef,” he greets his mentor. 

“You know, you can call me Luca,” Luca reminds him with a crooked smile. “At least when we’re off the clock.”

Marcus chuckles, “Uh… yeah alright. That’s gonna take some getting used to.” 

Luca chuckles in return, before Jesper shows them to his table, mentioning something about Americans being so afraid of fluidity. 

“She’s brilliant isn’t she?” Luca asks, in reference to you as his eyes catch yours from across the room. 

“Nah for real. Like… mad scientist vibes,” Marcus concurs with a smile. “She can throw down for sure.” He pauses as they sit down at Luca’s table. “So you come every Saturday night, huh?”

“When I can, yeah, which is… most Saturdays,” Luca replies honestly, before beginning to list why he’s kept up this routine. “But it’s nice. Keeps me inspired. I get to see my girl, walk her home at night which makes me feel better.” Luca leans back in his chair this time, crossing his arms over his chest. “And I never mind helping close down at the end of the night.”

Marcus hums in response before one of the waitstaff comes to their table, with a glass of wine in hand, on the house. They chat for a little longer before Marcus returns to the kitchen, his excitement for what you’re doing here filling him to the brim. 

As dinner service comes to an end, Marcus can’t help but notice the chemistry and how unique it is as you all work together in perfect harmony. There’s a warmth to it, something different, and he begins to understand why the name of the restaurant comes from the word, heart. 

Luca is quick to get up from his table, quickly finishing his glass of wine as he offers to help close down. The music volume goes from underscoring the buzz of a busy night of service, to the main attraction, as a motown throwbacks playlist begins to blare from the speakers. You all work quickly and efficiently, eager to close down, get home, and begin your weekends, but it’s when an old Otis Redding track that Luca decides to put a pause on the progress. 

“Dance with me, my love,” he says, offering his hand out to you as a huge gesture that earns a few looks and giggles from some of your staff. 

“Luca,” you begin to protest, looking around. 

“You can take three minutes,” he offers, exchanging a look with you this time. 

You nod, taking his hand as you agree with, “Okay.”

And as Luca wraps you up in his arms, engaging you in a slow dance to Otis Redding’s “That’s How Strong my Love is,” you chuckle, relaxing into him.

“Oh, get a room, you two!” Jesper calls out after you, teasingly. 

“She pretends – always puts up a fight – as if they don’t do this every single week,” Mathilde adds, as an explanation to Marcus. 

“Every week?” Marcus asks, a little surprised by both you and Luca’s willingness to pause and revel in a moment with each other, instead of just pushing through. 

“Yeah. Romantics, they are,” Jesper chimes in. 

Marcus smiles to himself. It’s a reminder of slowness – something he hasn’t let himself experience in a long time – and for just a moment, he lets himself settle into the feeling. 

*

You don’t even mind that you woke up an hour before your alarm the moment you feel Luca’s arms wrapped around you, and his lips against your soft skin. The low rumble of his voice resonates across your shoulders, sending chills down your spine as you arch into his hands, his arms wrapped around you. 

“I know we’re only a few days in… of our little trial,” Luca begins, the bass of his voice reverberating through your shoulder blade.

“Our living together trial?” you clarify with your ask, letting out a gasp as he nibbles on your shoulder gently. 

“Yeah. Just wonderin’ where your mind’s at,” Luca murmurs, his eager hands beginning to explore underneath the oversized shirt you put on before bed last night. 

“Well… I really like this,” you reply, the sound that comes out of your mouth somewhere between a giggle and a moan. 

“Hmmmm?” Luca sounds, innocently. 

“This… Waking up to you thing.”

“Oh yeah?” 

“Mhm.”

Luca’s name escapes your lips as his fingers gently begin to play with your nipples, his erection hard against your back as you begin to grind your hips back against. 

“And the access to round the clock sex is really a bonus,” you sigh, blissfully. 

“Oh yeah?” he asks you again, a large tatted hand slipping between your legs. 

“Yeah… I’d even be… interested in leaning into that part… right now,” you hiss in reply to his touch. “Considering you’re distracting me with sex.”

“Hmmmmm. ‘S not just it, love. Have I told you how grateful I am for what you’ve done for Marcus?” Luca asks, his mouth back on your neck. He presses your body against him, your back to his chest as he rocks his hips against yours. 

“Luca!” you protest, unable to focus on the conversation. 

“It’s your kindness. Your heart… I’m in awe of it,” he continues to praise you as the two of you begin to set a rhythm between your bodies. 

It’s all heat, and soft sighs of pleasure, and foreplay.

“Well, I know a little something about what he’s going through,” you answer breathlessly. You begin to impatiently push the hem of your shirt higher so that you can give Luca more access to your body. 

“That’s why I love you,” Luca murmurs into your skin, his hands all over you, his focus unbroken and your mind beginning to go blank. His hands are tearing your shirt over your head as he continues to praise you. “Your heart, the way you share it.”

“You helped me get there, baby,” you gasp, turning your head so that you can kiss your boyfriend. 

Instead of answering, Luca nods knowingly, before crashing his lips into yours. His mouth on yours feels like heaven, and you can’t believe that you ever fought your feelings for him. 

“Ah fuck it. Let’s do it. Let’s move in together,” you surrender to him, lost in the moment. 

“Yeah?” Luca pauses, pulling away, as if almost can’t believe what he’s hearing. 

“Yeah. I mean it, baby,” you nod, catching his gaze, certain in the way you answer. “I wanna wake up to you every morning.”

“Me too, my love,” Luca grins, before pressing his lips to yours again. “Now will you please let me fuck you, darling?”

“Fuck yes.”

Luca spends the next hour showing you just how grateful he is for you, while you in return, spend the next hour showing him just how sure you are about this decision. 

And you are sure. If mornings like this are a constant for the rest of your life, you think you’ll die a happy woman. 

You’ve found a home in him, and he, you. He’s the person you want to come home to at the end of the day. He’s the man that puts a smile on your face every single time he gets on his soapbox about how Beyonce is the performer of your lifetimes, and he is unequivocally the best, most unexpected thing in your life. 

Luca Davies, in almost a year of knowing him, and eight months of getting to love him, has somehow become your favorite person. 

By the time you and Luca are both showered and decent-for-company, you’ve begun your mise en place for brunch, completely content with the fact that you’re running a little behind schedule (and in all fairness, the sex was worth it – it’s always worth it). The smell of bacon sizzling away on your carbon steel fry pan fills the entire apartment, and you’re glad that Luca opened a window earlier. It’s not exactly window weather yet, but the air ventilation is a must when it comes to smoked meats.

While you play catch up with your brunch plan, Luca’s busy welcoming Marcus in, pouring him a cup of coffee using the extensive ten-step pour over he’s been fixated on ever since he purchased it, while they chat here and there about what else he’s explored in Denmark. 

“Been too busy working, to be honest but… I don’t know. I might wander around today… see what kind of stuff I can get into,” Marcus answers frankly with a shrug. 

“Ah, mate. We just had a walk at the Frederiksberg Gardens. Definitely something I’d recommend checking out,” Luca suggests, his eyes lighting up with excitement as he mentions it. 

Luca continues moving through his list of recommendations, Marcus chiming in with places and things he did the last time he was here, excited to spend a few days exploring the city instead of just working. 

“Wanderin’ around. I dunno. There’s something about it. ‘S good for the spirit, you know?” Luca concludes. 

“Yeah,” Marcus nods in agreement, before turning his attention over to the French toast you’re working on. “Okay, I see you. What is that? Mascarpone?”

“Yeah, good eye. It’s just something new I’m working on: a mascarpone stuffed french toast. We’re actually talking about extending our hours… maybe doing weekend brunch,” you answer thoroughly, as you dip the stuffed pieces of bread into their egg batter, pre-cook. 

“For real? That’s sick,” Marcus compliments, watching you carefully. “I mean… shit. You could have a whole brunch spot.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, looking up from your cutting board. 

“A Brunch spot,” Marcus repeats, simply, the excitement in his eyes at the new idea, evident. “Yeah, you know. Luca could do the morning pastries. You work your magic on the rest of the menu.”

“That’s a novel idea! What do you think, my love?” Luca asks, intrigue in his voice as he searches your face for a reaction. 

“I-,” you begin, looking from Luca to Marcus, then back to Luca again. “I… never thought about it like that.” You take a beat, eyeing Luca carefully. “We’ve never talked about going into business together.”

Marcus shrugs, before picking up his coffee mug, “Yo, it’s just a thought. I think you two would be unstoppable together.”

“Unstoppable, eh?” Luca asks, his eyes locked with yours. 

You only hum in response, raising a quirked eyebrow in Luca’s direction before adding:

“It’s certainly one hell of an idea, Marcus.”

Kokuore

Monday afternoon, you find yourself at your restaurant with Marcus Brooks, on a day off. 

“I might need a little extra help with something tomorrow. We’re closed tomorrow, but I want to get ahead on this special I’m working on. Could use the help of a pastry chef. What do you say?” you’d proposed to him, over one more espresso before he left. 

To Luca’s dismay, (“ you silly Americans just can’t enjoy a day of doing nothing,” he’d teased the two of you) Marcus had given you an unwavering yes, reassuring you that he was down to learn everything he possibly could from you, especially while he was here. 

And it’s true. You do need the help. But should he want someone to talk to – someone who gets it, even just a little bit – you want to offer him the space and the opportunity to do so.

“As a patissier, do you get tasked with pasta? At The Bear?” you ask Marcus, as you pleat a dumpling in hand with a speed that only comes with practice. 

“Nah,” Marcus sounds, his focus on the dumpling he’s pleating too. His concentration on getting the pleats right is reverent and unbroken, even as he answers your question. “Our head chef, Carmy, he uh… he comes from an Italian American family so when we’ve done a stuffed pasta… he usually takes the lead on that.” 

You nod in understanding, placing the dumpling you’ve just finished down on the full-sized sheet pan. The two of you sit across from each other, having pushed a few dining tables together as a makeshift workstation. 

“Think Luca’ll take over this kinda stuff when you guys open a restaurant together?” Marcus asks, lightheartedly pushing his agenda from yesterday. 

You laugh in response, your hands working quickly on yet another dumpling. 

“For someone with no skin in the game, you’re really insistent on this idea,” you tease him in return. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it,” Marcus pushes right back, his tone still light. 

“I…” you sigh, trailing off as you pause your work for a moment. “You know, we just said we’d move in together. That and a restaurant? Feels fast.” 

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Like… a few hours before you came over for brunch,” you elaborate, earning a whistle from Marcus. The two of you exchange a look, and a laugh, as you pick up another dumpling wrapper that you and Marcus rolled out together earlier. 

“It’s a good idea though,” you add, stealing a glance his way so that he knows that you’re serious. 

“Well, when you two inevitably do open a restaurant… I want ten percent,” Marcus jokes, earning another laugh from you. 

“Deal,” you agree with him. 

You and Marcus work like this, exchanging a few words, the conversation light, underscored by a softer acoustic soundtrack from one of your Spotify radio stations.

“So how’d you learn to cook like this?” Marcus asks you curiously. 

“Uh…” you hesitate, treading carefully as you realize this conversation could open a can of worms. 

“I don’t know how much Luca’s told you about me… but I was married… before him,” you begin, cautiously. “And… well, I learned a lot of this… a lot of traditional Japanese cooking from my mother-in-law.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. These are her dumplings actually – her recipe. She passed away last Fall and… well, it was important to me to celebrate her – to celebrate her life – by creating a few dishes for her,” you continue, and it’s as if all of the air has been sucked out of the room. “We’re bringing this one back as a special this month but um… yeah. I’m… still very much grieving and… it helps me remember her. Cooking her food helps me feel close to her, you know?”

“Yeah,” Marcus sighs, his heart heavy as he exhales. 

He waits a beat. 

And then another, having paused his work as he watches you pleat, head down, with expert hands. 

The silence between you and Marcus is full, heavy, connected by shared experience. You wait for Marcus to say something, and when he doesn’t, you decide to continue. 

“This restaurant… has so much of my heart in it: it’s got my love for Italian food from growing up in my best friend’s family’s restaurant, and it’s got my love for her – for Aiko – and everything she taught me,” you begin to explain. “And lately… it’s got a fresh perspective… inspired by the love I have with Luca, I think. Well, I know. Inspired by him… how this place brought us together.”

“The name itself is… totally made up, but means a lot to me. The Japanese word for heart is, kokoro, and the Italian word for heart is, cuore. Somehow an homage to my past… and was… Prophetic in so many ways too.” 

As Marcus listens, Luca’s previous question lingers in his head:

How’s your heart?

At the time he didn’t know how to answer, and after five days in Copenhagen – after five days of doing what he loves in a place that he loves – his heart is somehow so full, yet so broken all at once. He’s filled with deep sorrow and with the spark of creativity all at the same time, and he’s just not sure how to hold all of this feeling inside of him. 

Marcus waits a beat, opens his mouth, then lets the words fall out. 

“It’s evident. In your food,” is all he manages to say. “It’s got soul. It’s got heart. I-, it’s inspiring. That’s for sure.” 

“I made a dish. For Michael,” Marcus adds, his eyes on the dumpling he works on, but the guard on his heart beginning to fall away. “He was uh… well, he was the old owner of the restaurant, called The Beef back then. Carmy took over after he died. Felt right to honor him and his life, you know? When we reopened as The Bear.”

“Food is… it’s our art, you know?” you agree. “Sometimes it’s the only way I know how to express myself and… sometimes it’s just the thing that makes sense.”

“Yeah.”

A beat. 

“Maybe one day I can make one for my mom,” Marcus says, his voice stuck in his throat as he admits, “I don’t know if I’m ready yet. But I think… I think I’d like to eventually.” 

“Of course,” you reassure him gently. “You don’t have to be ready now. You don’t have to be ready ever. But when you are, your art will always be there.” 

“Thanks,” Marcus nods solemnly. 

You get up this time, realizing the sheet pan is full, and ready to be placed on the baker’s rack. As you return to the table with a new empty sheet pan, lined with parchment paper, Marcus finally asks you, his eyes soft, the heartbreak in them present. 

“How’d you get through? You know. Losing her? Your mother-in-law?” 

You return to your chair with a heavy sigh. 

“I’ll let you know when I do,” you answer, letting up a soft chuckle. “It helps to have good people and… from what Luca’s told me, you do. But… I had to let ‘em in, let ‘em help me. Let ‘em love me. And in all honesty, most days I’m still just… taking it day by day.” 

“Yeah, I-. I do. I got some really good people. Back home,” Marcus drags out slowly. 

“Then that’s all that matters. Your people and your heart. The rest… you just-,” you start. 

“Take day by day?” Marcus interjects, pausing to catch your eyes. 

You and Marcus exchange a knowing look, the recognition of each others’ pain is met with empathy. 

“Yeah. I think that's all we can do.”

By the end of your work session with Marcus, you’re ready to head home so that you can spend the rest of the day with Luca. 

“What’re you gonna do with the rest of your day?” you ask Marcus, curiously. 

With a sigh, and then a shrug, and a heart that feels just a little lighter, he answers with:

“Think I might wander around a bit. Someone once told me it’s good for the spirit.”

[pedroshotwifey]

One Condition

This is actually a requested fic from the lovely @survivingandenduring! You can view the request here if you'd like!

Pairing: Marcus Pike x fem!reader x Ezra (Prospect)

Word count: 4.9k

Tags/warnings: unprotected piv sex, sex pollen trope, dubcon, unprotected anal sex, double penetration, oral sex, cum eating, so much cum like its kinda scary, Ezra being a nasty little freak, anal fingering, pain kink, big fat juicy plot twist, this is absolutely nasty shit, stuff I'm probably forgetting, I'm actually not sorry at all for this

Summary: You and your partner, Marcus Pike, get stranded on an inhabited planet and run into problem after problem. You find yourselves in a compromising position that requires help from a strange man, who comes to you with one condition.

A/N: Uhhh. don't look at me 🫣

*****

“Um, Marcus?” 

You look at your partner, who has the same worried expression on his face as you. 

“Yup.” 

It’s not a question. You’re both thinking the same thing; you’re in the wrong place. 

It looks similar to the planet you were supposed to be landing on, but most of the scenery here is a lush green instead of the blue hues you’d been expecting. It’d looked the exact same from above the atmosphere, but there is a clear difference now that you’re on the surface. 

Marcus mutters a curse under his breath but begins the landing sequence anyway. That’s probably for the best; that way the two of you can figure out where you really were, and then where you actually need to be going. 

Dust comes up around your shuttle as you touch ground, the greenery around you rustling a bit as the jets power down. You get up from your seat when you feel the craft settle enough for the floor to be stable. 

Marcus follows, shutting everything down and then unbuckling himself from the pilot’s chair. You’re already on the other side of the small contraption, looking through the maps you have stored in the tiny compartment of the far wall. He comes up next to you and pulls up the planet encyclopedias, trying to find a description that matches the world you’ve landed in. 

You spend the next few minutes flipping through various books and maps until Marcus comes across a planet that matches. He hands the book over and points at the section. 

“Here,” he points. “It looks like we're on a sister planet to the one we’re supposed to be on.” 

You hum in agreement, reading the small passage provided next to the picture.

“Alright, well, let’s get her powered back up.” 

Your partner sighs, running a hand over his face. You furrow your brows. His face has paled a bit and he seems a bit reluctant to follow your request. 

“Is there a problem?” 

“Yeah, actually. We’re out of fuel,” he admits, trying and failing miserably to maintain eye contact. 

You gape at him. 

“Marcus! You were supposed to fill her up before we fucking left! It says here that there’s no civilization!” 

He nods along as you scold him, knowing it’s well deserved. 

“Yeah, I know. I forgot until we were halfway here, but I knew it would take just enough to get us on planet, and we could get more from there. It’s not like I knew that we would be landing on the wrong planet” He spews it out, not defensive exactly, but regretful. 

You groan and walk back to the front of the ship, checking the fuel gauge. 

“We’re running on fumes right now, I don’t know if it’s going to be enough to get us to the neighboring planet.” 

You look at him, trying to keep your anger from showing up because you know that it was genuinely an accident, and Marcus isn’t usually one to mess up like this. But of course when he does, you get stranded on an unknown planet.  

Rubbing your eyes, you walk in a circle around the floor, trying to think of a plan. You can feel Marcus’s guilty eyes following you until you come to a stop. 

“Okay,” you start. “The book said that this planet is typically only used for mining aurelac, right?” 

Marcus nods slowly, obviously confused as to where you’re going with this. 

“Well then there should be at least a few miners on planet in that case, right?” 

He nods again, furrowing his brows in thought. 

“So we should go out and try to find someone to borrow some fuel from?” he asks. 

“Yes. Either that or see if there’s someone who can hitch us a ride.” 

He sighs and puts his hands on his hips, his gaze downcast to the floor as he thinks through the options.

“Yeah, seems like our best bet,” he agrees after a minute. 

Within a few minutes, you both pack small bags and suit up to withstand the harsh environment of the planet. According to the book, the air is extremely thin and can sometimes hold toxic chemicals depending on other factors. You follow Marcus out of the craft and watch as he makes sure everything’s sealed correctly, before you both start walking into the woods. 

“Do you know where you’re going?” you ask after you’ve been walking for a while.” 

Marcus looks at you, his expression still holding hints of guilt. 

“Not exactly. I think most of the mines are located in the forest though, so we’ll just have to keep walking and hope we come across—” 

“Shit, Marcus!” 

You yell for him as he stumbles across a root and tumbles down into a pit. It’s not super deep, but just enough so that he could have seriously hurt himself with that fall. You carefully slide down the side of it to join him. 

“Are you okay?”

He looks up at you from where he’s planted on his back and groans a bit. He opens his mouth to reply and that’s when you see that his mask is on the ground next to him, crushed into several pieces. 

“Shit,” he croaks, already feeling the effects of the thin air. 

You crouch down beside him, feeling him up for any injuries. 

“Does anything hurt?” 

“Just my head. It’s fucking pounding.” 

You sigh. “Probably from lack of airflow.” 

“C’mon,” you grunt, threading your arms under his. “Let’s get you back and hope that you don’t die.” 

He glares at you but allows you to help him into a sitting position.

“Well, isn’t this unfortunate? Two little birds trapped in a cage.” 

You both jolt at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. You peer up to the top of the pit and find a man standing near the ledge, a blaster aimed directly at your head. He wears a shabby, brown suit with a bulbous helmet that would be almost funny looking if not for the imminent threat he poses. You slowly raise your hands and start to stand back up, a rush of fear creeping up your spine. 

“We’re not armed,” you start. “My friend’s mask just broke; we need help.” You try not to sound too panicked as you explain your situation to the stranger, praying to whoever may be listening that he’s not planning to shoot both of you.

“Don’t worry gem, I don’t want to kill you. I simply would like to assure myself that neither of you had plans of my own execution.” 

You furrow your brows at his choice of wording, his strange drawl only adding to your confusion. 

“I, uh. No.” What else can you really say to that?

You glance down at Marcus and see the same befuddled expression on his face. 

“I will warn you that your…friend”—he cocks a brow at you as he says it—”has chosen a rather unfortunate time to lose his filtration system. Assuming, of course,  you haven’t already discovered the effects of the tainted oxygen.” 

You shake your head as your mouth goes dry. 

“Is—is he going to be okay?” 

The stranger pauses for a moment as if in thought. He cocks his head and then looks back at you. 

“He should be as long as he receives the assistance he should require.” 

“What do you mean by that?” This comes from Marcus. 

The stranger frowns and lowers his gun, which he seems to have just remembered he was still holding up. 

“Are you not familiar with this planet’s cycles?” 

You both shake your heads.

The man sighs and kneels on the ledge extending a hand. You stare at it, neither of you making a move toward him. 

“Do you want to stay in this pit? I think it would be rather unsanitary to do so under your current circumstance.” 

You flash another glance at Marcus, who nods slightly toward you, encouraging you to take the other man’s hand. You step forward and place your palm in his, allowing him to pull you up, and then you kneel to help him hoist Marcus up as well. 

“I’m Ezra,” the man says once the three of you are standing. You introduce the two of you as well, figuring at this point that the stranger has to be at least mostly harmless. 

“Alright, well tell me, little bird; are you and Marcus of the romantic type?” 

You just stare at him, unsure of how to answer that, nor of why he would feel the need to ask in the first place. You can feel Marcus’s eyes on you as your cheeks begin to burn. 

“I–uh…” 

You let your eyes meet your partner’s, a silent conversation transpiring. You’ve engaged in some less than appropriate activities throughout your travels, but it’s always been strictly for stress release or simply a product of boredom. The last few months, it’s been more of an unspoken thing. 

The two of you care for each other and behave as most couples would, but you’ve never actually given each other the labels. You definitely never thought that the deciding conversation would be in the presence of a strange man who seems to be about to deliver some bad news. You’re about to answer when Marcus gives you a short nod, lifting the burden off of your shoulders. 

“Yeah, we are.” 

The man nods, though he’s clearly amused. You’re sure he can see what just happened and must have used context clues to figure the rest out out. 

“That’s fortunate for you. What’s circulating in the air currently is what could be described as an aphrodisiac. I’m sure you’re familiar with such?” 

You and Marcus exchange yet another glance. 

“Yes, we’ve heard of them,” you say. 

“Do you have a craft nearby?” Ezra asks, peering behind you as if he could spot one he missed before. 

You hesitate before answering. Even if he’s seemed to be helpful so far, can you really be sure it isn’t a trap? 

“We have a shuttle,” you decide on just to be on the safe side. “We’re out of fuel though. That’s why we're out here in the first place,” you add just in case the man has some extra laying around for some miraculous reason.

Just then, you near a heavy thud and a groan. You spin on your heel to find Marcus keeled over, his hands over his groin and his exposed skin covered in a layer of sweat more intense than what’s normal for this climate. You’re on your knees beside him within a second, your hands running over him until he flinches away as if you’d burned him. 

“Marcus! What’s happening?” You aim your question at Ezra, who’s still standing above the two of you with an almost pitying expression. 

“The effects are getting to him, little dove. I’m afraid you’re going to need to help him in a timely manner.” 

You think for a moment, knowing getting your partner all the way back to your shuttle is going to be a difficult task in the state that he’s in. 

“I have a camp not too far from our current location, I’m willing to offer up the space on one condition. And before you protest, we both know it’s not safe to engage in life saving activities out here in the open.” 

You stiffen at this. Of course there’s a catch; it’s not common to receive help from a random stranger without them expecting anything in return. You glance down to make sure his gun is still in its holster before narrowing your eyes at his face, not liking the way his smile has turned a bit wolfish. 

“What do you want? We don’t have any coin.” 

“Oh, no, gem. I don’t want your profits. I simply desire to join you and your handsome partner. It’s been a long time since I had something other than my own fist to keep me company.” 

“What?” you bark, slightly humiliated that he would suggest something like that, regardless of how handsome he may be. “No, I’m sleeping with a stranger in exchange for shelter!” 

“Now don’t get feisty, dove. I didn’t say it had to be you,” he says, watching Marcus with a newfound hunger. “Though it would probably be fortunate for your friend here that it was, assuming he is of the hetero kind.” 

“Don’t,” Marcus croaks, looking up at you the best he’s able to. 

You’re torn, knowing that Marcus needs help quick, but not wanting to give either of you up to this man. When it comes down to it though, you’re always going to choose what’s best for your partner. You look up at the man with disdain, knowing that you’re not going to have much of a choice here. 

“Fine. But not him.” 

Ezra’s smile broadens. 

“Very well, gem. Right this way.�� 

He turns around and waits for you to get a near-delirious Marcus about halfway up so he’s propped by one of your shoulders. Noticing your struggle, Ezra comes to his other side and mirrors your position, one hand supporting around his waist. 

As you walk, Marcus’s temperature keeps rising and his groans get worse. Fortunately, the man wasn’t lying when he said he had a camp nearby; you only have to walk for about a minute before coming across it. 

He opens up the flap as you get closer, taking the zipper all the way down and helping you ease Marcus in. As you lay him down, you can see the bulge in his flight suit; almost twice what is normal. You hear Ezra zip the opening back up and then step in behind you. 

“F-fuck, I’m sorry, I can’t–” 

Marcus cuts himself off as he shakily pulls down the zipper on his suit, revealing his undershirt and boxers. His hand goes down the latter not a second later, a pornographic moan coming from him as his hand makes contact with his engorged cock. He starts stroking himself under the fabric, panting heavily, and it makes your mouth go dry despite the circumstances. 

“Shit, I-it’s not enough,” he grits out, pumping furiously. There are tears in his eyes as he looks at you, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. 

“Better help him quick, little bird,” Ezra quips from behind you, already removing his attire as well. You comply, though for which man you’re not sure. 

You strip quickly, the three of you tearing your own clothes off at the same time, each of you stark naked at the end. You feel so exposed between the two of them, especially with Ezra, who doesn’t help at all by giving a lewd whistle at the sight of your bare body. 

You give him a look so nasty that you’re surprised he doesn’t drop dead. He raises his hands in defense. 

“Woah, little bird, I meant it only as a praise.” 

You ignore him and turn to Marcus, who’s just now shoving his boxers off. You gasp when his dick springs up, heavy, red, throbbing, and leaking an obscene amount of precum. It’s swollen to a point that looks almost painful. 

You swallow your nerves and try your best to ignore Ezra as you instruct Marcus to lay down on the cot. He tugs you with him, feral to get to you at this point. You fall over him and he immediately starts sucking and licking all the skin he can get to, his hips thrusting up into nothing. 

You see Ezra move out of the corner of your eye, taking a seat in the single chair inside the small tent. You lift your head as much as you can to make sure he’s not going to try anything. 

“Carry on, gem. I’m a patient man; I can wait my turn.” 

If you’re being honest, he looks a little too smug.

Suddenly Marcus is flipping you over, shoving you down to the bed on your back, whispering something you can’t quite catch. He doesn’t wait another second before you feel his cock at your underprepared cunt, and your eyes barely have a chance to go wide before he’s forcing himself into you, groaning wildly as he tugs you down onto him. 

It’s only then that you realize he had been whispering “sorry”. 

You scream and your hands come up to reflexively try to get him off. There are tears as he keeps shoving himself in, stretching you to your limit. Through your blurry vision, you can see tears in his as well, more of shame than of pleasure by his sympathetic expression. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again.

“N-no,” you squeak even as your hands claw at his back from the discomfort. “It’s okay. Don’t stop. Even if I beg you to.”

You close your eyes and try not to focus on the uncomfortable feeling between your legs as Marcus begins to unrelentingly slam his hip into yours. You hear a sound coming from beside you, and turn to see Ezra pumping himself through your blurry vision. It’s a sight that really shouldn't turn you on as much as it does.

You moan despite yourself as the pain coming from your sore cunt turns into pleasure. You’re getting wetter and wetter as the seconds tick by, the glide of your partner’s cock becoming easier and more toe-curling. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he starts to punch that spot deep inside you. You’re getting hot fast, sweat building up in every crease and crevice as your pussy seems to get more hungry for what Marcus is feeding it. 

Each thrust sends you up the bed, but Marcus holds onto you so that you don’t go too far. He’s grunting like a feral animal, his body maneuvering every which way until he finds the position that provides him with the most momentum.  

“Ohh that feels so fucking good, baby,” he hisses through his teeth. “Gods, you always take me so f-fucking well.”

You’ve never heard him talk like this before—with this level of vulgarity. You whimper, making eye contact with Ezra as Marcus nails something even more delicious within you. His gaze is heavy and on your face rather than on your body, which surprises you as much as it flatters you. 

“Does she suck cock just as well?” Ezra’s deepened voice comes from the chair, his eyes still on you as he asks the question. 

Marcus looks down at you, albeit with heavy lids, for your consent. You nod, already fucked out beyond thinking clearly. 

“Better,” comes Marcus’s reply, his stare just as heavy as Ezra’s. “Why don’t you come see for yourself?” 

You moan at the thought of being taken from both ends, one of the domineering men on each side. This is going much better than anticipated, both your mind and body opening to the stranger despite your earlier protest. 

Ezra doesn’t have to be asked twice, already getting up to hover his thick cock over your face, slapping it gently against your lips. The cot is the perfect height for him to stick it into your mouth, though he waits. 

“You want this, gem?” 

You almost find it funny that he’s asking, considering he didn’t give you much of a choice earlier. You nod anyway, because you honestly do, your gaze is trained on it as your mouth waters. He threads one hand through your hair, pulling you into the right position, and then uses his tip to part your lips. 

He moans as he sinks in, his eyes fluttering shut as you immediately wrap your tongue around him. You find yourself groaning at his salty taste, savoring the weight of him as you start to pull him in. Your cunt throbs as he and Marcus both moan out at the same time, Marcus doubling over while Ezra bottoms out. 

Marcus brings one hand to your clit and begins rubbing up and down at a furious pace that would have made you scream if not for the other man’s cock in the way. Tears leak from your eyes as Ezra begins to pump in and out of you, his hips thrusting as he uses the hand in your hair to hold you where he wants. 

“Oh you feel devine, little gem,” he moans, his eyes still closed and his lips parted as he picks up the pace. You can feel him hitting deep inside your throat, making you resist the urge to choke. It’s overwhelming but in the best way. 

“Oh, fuck!” Marcus nearly shouts the curse as his hips stutter. “Come with me baby, come on,” he urges, moving his hand quicker. 

Your back arches up at the feeling, though you’re still pinned by both men. Suddenly, everything flashes white, your hearing going dull as your entire body convulses with the power of your orgasm. You have just enough brain capacity to think that this has got to be the highest level of pleasure attainable. 

It goes on forever, your pussy pulsing as you sob and moan around Ezra’s cock. You faintly hear Marcus’s own moans and feel his dick twitch and throb within you, coating your walls in his creamy white spend.

You don’t even realize you had closed your eyes until you open them again upon feeling your own drool dribbling down your cheeks to mix with your tears. Ezra coos down at you, wiping away the saliva though he doesn’t dare slow his pace. 

“M-messy little bird,” he laughs.

You glance back down at Marcus the best you can just to realize that he’s still hard as a fucking rock. He’s still riding out his own high, rocking slowly to prolong it as much as possible. His eyes flick back up to yours after a moment, and then to Ezra’s who watches him intently as he continues to defile your throat. 

The gurgling sounds coming from you should be downright disgusting, but they only add to the eroticness of what the three of you are doing right now. The tent seems to have filled with the thick scent and humidity of sex, making your head even more foggy than provided by your orgasm. 

Ezra’s not far after the two of you, grunting heavily and pulling on your hair to a painful level. He pulls out and strokes himself over your face, letting his cum splatter across your features right after you close your eyes. His thumb comes to your lips, making you open your mouth as he moans aloud. 

Some of his seed falls on your tongue, and you swallow it down as Ezra finishes the last few spurts. You open your eyes when you’re sure he’s done, panting and gasping despite your sore throat. 

It’s at the same time that the two men pull away from you, and you’re extremely confused until you see that they’re maintaining eye contact, seeming to have had a silent conversation while you’d been distracted. 

Suddenly, you’re being lifted by the both of them, your body being rearranged to their preference. You’re so fucking tired, but you do your best to comply with their actions. You’re being lifted onto Ezra’s lap when you finally understand their plan. 

His cock is only half-hard after his orgasm, but he begins rutting himself against you regardless as Marcus disappears from your line of sight. You half-collapse on Ezra, moaning as your clit gets stimulated thanks to his thrusts. 

“Second drawer, pretty boy,” he pants. You hear shuffling and then Marcus returning behind you before you get the chance to ask what he was doing. There’s a pop from behind you, and then a cold substance at your ass. 

You yelp at the unexpected feeling, only to be shushed by Ezra. 

“Hush now, gem. I’ve heard you have experience in this area.” 

He smirks at you as your cheeks heat. 

You moan suddenly as Marcus slips a finger past your tight ring of muscle, pumping a good few times before adding a second. He leans close and whispers praise into your ear, telling you how good you’re being for them, how well you’re taking it all. 

He works you up to three fingers before he pulls his hand from you and helps lift you up, propping you up enough for Ezra to notch his tip at your thoroughly soaked cunt. You help the slow descent down his shaft, your lips parting and eyes pinching shut at the sensation. 

Ezra chokes on a groan, squeezing both of your ass cheeks as you bottom out. 

“Fuck, little birdy, your heavenly cunt should be reserved for those of immortal status.” 

You don’t even have the energy to cringe at his wording, instead savoring the way he fills you so nicely, not as long as Marcus, but a good bit thicker. The coarse hairs above his cock rub against your oversensitive clit nicely, making you want to rut against him. Just then, you feel Marcus settle in behind you again, dragging you partially onto his lap so you’re over his cock. 

“Ready, sweetheart?” He asks, clearly having regained some of his gentlemanly status after quelling his lust a bit. You whimper and nod at him, and he starts to push inside of you. 

“Oh, Gods,” you moan, wrapping your arms around Ezra’s back and digging your nails in for stability. He hisses and increases his grip on your ass, keeping you spread for Marcus as his hips come flush against you. 

You’re already so full it’s dizzying, so when the two men start to move, you think you may come on the spot. Ezra goes first, pulling out a bit and then sinking back in, which is when Marcus makes his move, repeating the other man’s actions. Your knees are planted on the cot, giving you the opportunity to move with them. 

The three of you are panting, moaning messes, hot breaths fanning across each other’s skin as you nuzzle together. The pace starts out slow, but quickly picks up, increasing your combined noises. Both of the men start to grab at you, moving their hands and groping anything and everything they’re able to. 

You can feel their cocks rubbing against your middle wall, creating an intoxicating feeling that you know you’ll miss when this is over. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, being so full you can feel them in your stomach. 

Small whimpers begin to spill from your mouth, but are quickly caught by Ezra, who captures your lips in a sloppy kiss, his spend from earlier mixed between your tongues. It’s difficult to keep it up with how much you’re being jostled, so he gives up after a moment and instead opts to lick his cum off of your sweaty cheek. You’re pleasantly surprised when you feel Marcus’s hand come up to grasp at your chin, tilting your face so that he’s able to do the same on the opposite side. 

The two of you clean your face with their tongues as they thrust into you at a punishing pace, somehow hitting spots you didn’t even know existed. You let out a raspy groan, your hands scrambling over both of their bodies for purchase. 

A heat is beginning to build once again in your abdomen, pleasure licking up your spine. It only takes a few more alternating thrusts before you’re coming around their cocks with a scream. You tighten around both of their throbbing cocks, getting them closer to their own ends. 

Marcus comes first once again, still slightly affected by the drug from earlier. He bites onto your shoulder as he busts inside of you, slamming his hips up and locking in place, his hands coming up to squeeze your tits as his balls empty into your ass. 

Ezra follows right after, seemingly liking Marcus’s idea of a gag, and biting into your other shoulder. You scream again at the pressure of both men’s teeth, your arms raising so you can grasp both of their hair, holding them close. 

Your orgasm lingers for as long as theirs do, the three of you coming completely down at the same time. You stay in a sweaty heap for a long time, just trying to catch your breath and make sense of what’s real and what’s not. 

You all fall apart after a few minutes, exhaustion officially taking over you. You can feel both of the men’s cum leaking from your holes as they pull out and help you lay comfortable on the cot. They get situated next to you, and you’re all out like lights within the next minute. 

The next morning, Ezra’s waiting for the two of you with a portable can of fuel and an extra mask. Your departure is swift and unawkward, Ezra walking with the two of you back to your ship like you’ve known each other for years. It takes a bit longer than it should due to your body being practically fucking wrecked from last night, but both of the men help you get along. 

When you reach your craft, you all say your goodbyes, knowing this will more than likely be the last time you’ll come across this strange man. To be frank, you’re still a bit confused about what exactly transpired last night, but you choose to ignore it. Your head is pounding with what feels like the worst hangover you’ve ever had, and you’re just eager to get off of this nightmare planet. 

Ezra watches you fuel up your craft and then take off, smiling and honestly quite satisfied with himself. Neither of you even figured it out that he was the one who planted the trap and laced the dirt pit with the drug, nor that he may have let a bit more slip inside his tent.

***** I mean really, do we really expect anything less from Ezra?

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