#richie after dark

[jonathanrook]

i can't think of a caption for this that isn't cringy. torn between "am i wearing this right?" and "this shirt is awfully chilly" but idk neither are very good

[cwcthzl]

richie the type of guy to create numberless different accounts on every social media platform possible and lie his ass off about his personal information/day-to-day life just because he can

[jazzdailyblog]

Unveiling the Brilliance of George Coleman: A Jazz Icon

Introduction: George Coleman, a legendary saxophonist and composer, has left an indelible mark on the world of jazz. With a career spanning over six decades, Coleman’s innovative approach to music and his virtuosic saxophone playing have earned him a place among the jazz greats. Early Life and Career Beginnings: Born eighty-nine years ago today on March 8, 1935, in Memphis, Tennessee, Coleman…

[geroya]

i KNOW i should go eep bc u know ur lil guy hasnt slept very well the last few days but uhhh also what if i didnt

[majorbaby]

"Richie’s reading (which, based on his loose plot description to Carmy, seems to be Haruki Murakami’s 2013 novel, “Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage”)" (source)

wild if true lol because 1) that would mean michael and richie uhhh 2) i continue to be haunted by murakami which itself is a very murakamian thing to happen to a person

[hecame]

[ MOUTH ] — sender gives receiver oral (Richie)

He hadn't thought that Richie would turn up . It had been a while since they'd seen each other , texts landing in each other's phones && left without response .

03/ 06 [ 𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐓 : ━━━━━━━━ 𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐄 ] Monsoon season ? 06/ 11 [ 𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐓 : ━━━━━━━━ 𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐊 ] Heat wave. 42 degrees.

12/ 15 [ 𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐓 : ━━━━━━━━ 𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐄 ] Snow . 12/ 15 [ 𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐓 : ━━━━━━━━ 𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐄 ] Miss you , Arden.

He thinks for a moment .

[ 𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐓 : ━━━━━━━━ 𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐄 ] location pin dropped.

He'd set himself up at the bar , only HALF waiting - already pretty sure that there was no chance that Richie was close enough to meet up even if he WANTED to . But then there's a hand on his shoulder , && when he turns there's a pair of eyes looking back at him that he knows so WELL at this point , he thinks he could pick them out of a line up.

Soft Heys , a handshake that feels WAY too formal . There must have been some conversation in there - about where he was posted , or whether he just happened to be passing through . But all of that is lost in a JUMBLE of the time it took before they're stumbling out of the back door of the bar , hands working at each other's belts .

They were never very good at keeping their hands off of each other .

It's cold outside , ice on the ground - those soft flakes of white drifting down . Beck's hands numb pretty much instantly but he warms them against Richie's waist as they SMACK themselves into the wall by the extractors for the building's heating . It's warm there , like they're next to a crackling fire && Beck sighs gently - lets it fall into a moan as the soldier lowers himself to his knees.

❝ ugh . fucking hell . ❞ He watches as those sure fingers undo his zipper and shift his clothing aside to give himself room - arching his back gently , thumbing carefully over the SCAR etched into Richie's cheek . He's hardening as soon as he's taken in the taller man's hand , groaning as he feels the warmth of his mouth over his tip - tongue swirling underneath the head.

❝ God , Richie . Fuck - ❞ fingers are CLAWS on his shoulder , holding him close . ❝ I want you . Take me apart . ❞

[thebearer]

nothing in the world belongs to me |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: still new in your relationship, you show up to the bear for dinner unexpectedly, surprising carmen and the others.

based off this prompt from the other day :)

contains: fluff lol. really, it's just fluff. established-ish relationship (the others don't know). carmen being a little nervous and possessive but mainly cute <3 language.

“Alright, listen up,” Richie stood next to Sydney, flicking through the piles of tickets that were ringing through by the second. It was normal now, an expected task in their routine. “We need to walk the focaccia to table seven, please.” 

“Yes, Chef!” A chorus of nearly robotic voices rose from the sizzling hiss of the lamb searing in Carmen’s pan, lifting the spatula to tip the meat over, before giving it back to the chef on the line. 

“And for table nine, we’ve got a shellfish allergy, alright? So let’s triple check the cross contamination on that. T, can you handle that one?” Richie moved from his leather bound book of notes back to the ticket. 

“Yes, Chef!” Tina chimed, pulling a freshly washed pan, filling it with the veal stock. 

“Table nine, is that- that’s the senator?” Carmen turned to Richie, tasting the roux bubbling on Victoria’s station, giving her a curt nod of approval. 

“No, that’s table eleven.” Richie hummed, looking back at his notebook. “Nine, is… a birthday. Booked online.” Carmen had already begun to drone him out, mind racing with a million other things as Richie listed the guests name. Until he got to one. 

The name Carmen was sure he was hallucinating. The name no one knew- How would they know? How could they possibly know your name? 

You and Carmen had been seeing each other for a little while. A few weeks that were slowly turning into months. A casual thing that was slowly turning more serious. Dates and meetups are becoming more frequent. You’d even invited him over to your place a few times, he’d spent the night last week. 

Still, Carmen hadn’t managed to tell anyone. Selfishly, he liked that you were all his for now. Privacy was not guaranteed in the Berzatto house, in Carmen’s life still. He knew they meant well, they always did- he knew it wasn’t purposeful, the intrusion that almost always led to a demise. Carmen wasn’t ready for it, not yet, he still wanted you all to himself. 

“Carmen?” Sydney’s voice pulled him out of his panicked trance. “Chef, are you- are you good?” Her voice lilted with that familiar suspicious quip, the one always accompanied with her lifted brows. 

“What?” Carmen blinked, hands buzzing, heart thumping. He could see the window, Richie’s frame blocking most of it. “Sorry, yeah- yeah, I’m good, Chef.” 

Sydney watched him carefully, a slow nod before she continued calling out orders. Carmen could feel Richie’s eyes on him, narrowed with curiosity. Carmen tried to be nonchalant, crossing the kitchen back towards Tina, his eyes cutting carefully, looking out the window. 

There you were. 

Sitting pretty at the middle table, surrounded by friends, some Carmen recognized from your Instagram. He’d actually logged in to the app, looked you up after the first date, consumed every photo of yours in the dark of his room. Cheeks burning with excited heat, stomach fluttering in a way he hadn’t felt since junior high. 

“Alright, walk five salads to nine.” Sydney called out. “Where’s our runners? God, Richie, can you run-” 

“-I got it.” Carmen called, the urgency in his tone making Tina jump behind him. Carmen took the tray before Gary could, his hands shaking as he lifted it. 

“Cousin, I can get it.” Richie frowned. 

“No, I-I got it.” Carmen nodded, swallowing down his fluttering nerves. His eyes cut to your table through the window, heart skipping when he saw you. “I got it. I’ll be- I’ll just be a second.” 

“I don’t- I can’t even handle that one right now.” Sydney sighed in exasperation. “Alright, Chefs. Let’s get back on track.” She announced, shaking her head. Richie frowned, pulling out his phone. 

Sugar’s cell buzzed against the hostess stand, excusing herself to check it. 

From: Richie 

‘Look at table nine.’ 

Sugar huffed. 

To: Richie 

‘Why? Is there something wrong?’ 

She stepped back, casually turning to scan the room, eyes landing on the table. A small group of girls, younger, and amongst them- Carmen? 

To: Richie 

‘Is something wrong with the food? Do I need to comp it?’ 

From: Richie 

‘No. Cousin wanted to go out there.’ 

Sugar frowned, angling her body behind the large plant near the front as casually as she could. She watched through the leaves as Carmen passed out the salads, each girl grinning widely, but their eyes always cut to one on the end. 

Carmen saved your salad for last, hoping the lowlights of the restaurant would hide his boyish blush, setting the bowl in front of you carefully. “Hey,” 

“Hi,” You smiled sheepishly, looking to meet his gaze. “Everything looks so good.” 

“Yeah? Thanks.” Carmen nodded. “I-I didn’t know you were comin’ tonight.” 

“I’m sorry.” You cringed softly, embarrassed heat flooding through your veins. You knew better, knew you shouldn’t have done this- showed up at his restaurant unannounced. 

“I, uh, it’s my friend’s birthday.” You nodded towards Alicia at the end of the table. “And I was telling them about that pasta you made me, and they really wanted to come try it.” Your nerves bubbled, rambling in nervous peals that seemed to pour out before you could stop them.  

“Yeah, no, that’s really nice. Thank you.” Carmen nodded, giving a half smile to your friends, hoping they didn’t see the way he wiped his clammy hands on his apron. “Why didn’t- Why didn’t you just call me? Tell me you were comin’ in.” 

“I didn’t want to bother you.” You muttered softly. “I honestly didn’t think you’d even see us here, I swear. I didn’t mean to bother you or anything-” 

“-You’re not bothering me.” Carmen’s voice dropped to a coo, accompanied with a soft smile that had your head spinning. “Never a bother, but, uh, next time? Bother me, ok? Wanna make sure you get the best seat in the house.” 

Your cheeks flushed with heat, your friends excited giggles only intensifying the rushing heat blanketing over your body. Carmen’s own cheeks heated, tongue rolling on the inside of his cheek to hide his grin. 

“Alright?” Carmen added, and in a complete act of shocking boldness, his hand squeezed your shoulder affectionately. A small gesture on the outside, but for Carmen, it was huge. 

“Alright.” You grinned, leaning into his touch, your hands sliding over his. 

“How’s everything so far?” Carmen turned to the table, nodding at the excited gushes of compliments, not missing the way your friends cut their eyes to you with animated glee. 

“Just let me know if you need anything, ok?” Carmen turned to you.

“I will.” You nodded, starry eyed with love sick affection. 

“Good. I’ll see you before you leave, alright?” Carmen muttered, ducking down towards you. His lips brushed over your cheek, your perfume clouding his senses. “You’re not botherin’ me. ‘M glad you’re here.” 

Your cheek pressed to his, a gentle, affectionate rub before Carmen parted. Both of your features painted with shy delight. 

Carmen could feel everyone’s eyes, through flickering gazes and lifted brows. Sydney’s gaze lingering over him skeptically, still counting tickets. Fak’s wide grin from the corner, loading trays to take out. 

“Hey, uh, Marcus.” Carmen ignored Richie’s raised brows, a teasing, questioning remark on the tip of his tongue. 

“Yes, Chef?” Marcus muttered, looking up from the cannolis he was garnishing. 

“Table nine has a birthday. I was thinkin’ maybe the chocolate ganache, punch it with the little circle to make it look like a cake. Add a candle?” Carmen muttered, hand rubbing across his face. 

“Yeah, Chef, I can do that.” Marcus nodded. 

“Thank you.” Carmen nodded. “And Chef? Let me know when it’s ready before you walk it.” 

Marcus frowned. “No, it’s not- I just wanna walk it, ok?” Carmen shook his head. 

“Alright.” Marcus nodded slowly. “Heard, Chef.” 

Richie smirked, leaning against the stainless steel table. “So,” Richie hummed. “There a complaint or somethin’? Need me to go talk to ‘em-” 

“-No,” Carmen snapped, the possessiveness in his tone startling the both of them. “Sorry, it’s- No, I-I don’t need you to do that, Chef. Everything’s good.” 

Richie nodded slowly, passing the dishes to Gary with a nod. “You gonna tell me what that was about?” 

“No, Chef.” Carmen clipped, an edge to his tone that was teetering on annoyed. “But, uh, there’s not gonna be a check on table nine.” 

“What?” Richie frowned. “Did you mess somethin’ up? Seriously, Cousin, if something's wrong it’s my job to know-” 

“-No, it’s not-.” Carmen huffed, eyes pinching closed, running a hand over his face in frustration. “Look, that’s… The girl on the end? I-I’ve been kinda seein’ her, ya know?” He muttered. 

Richie gawked, blinking in disbelief. “No shit.” He grinned. “No shit? You-You’re serious?” He turned to look out the window. 

“Don’t fuckin’ look.” Carmen hissed. “Look, it-it’s not a big deal, alright? Just don’t-don’t say anything o-or do anything.” 

Richie swallowed back a teasing remark, a reactive reaction from years of being with Mikey. How the two of them used to tease Carmen endlessly, until they were fighting on the front lawn, Mikey howling with laughter while Carmen was red faced with mortified anger. 

This time, Richie held back. He wasn’t sure why, call it divine intervention, a gut feeling maybe, but it felt different this time. 

“Alright.” Richie nodded slowly. “No ticket for nine. Heard.” 

Carmen’s foot tapped anxiously. “I mean, right? Th-That’s what I should do right?” Carmen looked over his shoulder out the window. “That would be shitty to give her a check? Be a complete jagoff move to charge her?” 

“Yeah,” Richie scoffed lightly. “Jagoff of the fuckin’ year. Makin’ your girl pay to come to your place.” 

Carmen’s heart swelled at the term- your girl. His girl. You were his girl. 

“Walk four Pappardelle to nine. Walk one Pappardelle vegetarian style to nine.” Sydney called. 

Carmen dipped the spoon in the glaze, garnishing the plate before sliding it towards Sydney. “So, you gonna take these out?” He muttered. 

“No,” Carmen huffed. “Gonna wait until the cake.” 

“Yeah, good idea, Cousin.” Richie nodded with a proud smile. “That when you’re gonna tell them no check tonight?” 

“No,” Carmen shook his head. “I don’t- It would feel weird comin’ from me.” He looked up at Richie. “I was gonna let you do it.” 

“Yeah, I can handle that.” Richie smirked. “And I won’t say anything, Cousin.” He stopped Carmen before he could say it. “I got you, Cousin. I won’t fuck it up, alright?” 

Carmen nodded slowly, a strangled thank you on the tip of his tongue. The door swung open behind Richie, and for a second, Carmen caught a glimpse of you. Smiling and laughing, leaned in over the table, no doubt giggling with your friends about him. Carmen’s heart squeezed, but this time, without fear. No, there was no dooming fear that you were mocking him, making fun of him. This time, he felt the content rush of adrenaline filled love. A change in his routine, yes. Unexpected, sure, but he was glad for it. Glad that you were there- here, with him.

[alisonsfics]

secret’s out

pairing: carmy berzatto x reader

summary: you and carmy have been able to successfully hide your relationship from your friends for four months. but when they all get invited to carmy’s apartment for a party, they find something that spoils your secret relationship.

word count: 1.8k

warnings: swearing, smut implications

“We really have to get back out there, Carmy,” you mumbled against his lips. You tried to pull away from him, but he grabbed your hips and held you still.

“Don’t wanna. Just wanna stay right here with you,” he protested, moving your hands back to where they had been in his hair. Carmy loved the feeling of your fingers running through his curls. “They’re gonna realize we’re gone,” you tried to protest, but Carmy was making it difficult.

You hummed contently as Carmy’s hands ran down your sides. “You really wanna leave?” He teased you. Carmy could read you like the back of his hand.

“You know I don’t, but we don’t want all our friends to realize we’re dating, do we?” You asked him.

Carmy finally pulled out of the kiss. “I just miss you. That’s all. I see you everyday but we have act like we’re just coworkers. And we have to be so careful. I have to watch every move I make around you. I know we can’t, but I just wish I could flaunt you to everyone.” He told you, honestly.

You took his hands and interlaced your fingers with his. “I know, baby. I’ll make it up to you later, though.” You flirted, kissing the inside of his wrist.

Carmy huffed. “We have that party later at my place with everybody, where I once again won’t even be allowed to hold your hand or…do this,” Carmy said, trying to distract you. He attached his lips behind your ear, sucking softly on your skin. He knew how much you loved it.

“We always have after the party.” You said, pressing a kiss to Carmy’s neck.

“God, I love you,” Carmy said, with awe in his eyes. He pressed a quick kiss to your lips before sneaking back into the kitchen. You waited a few minutes before joining him, so no one would get suspicious.

Later at the party, you and Carmy were making sure to keep your distance. If you both were inseparable, your friends would figure it out pretty quickly.

Carmy was in the kitchen chatting with Fak and Marcus. You were sitting in the living room with Richie, Sydney, Nat, and Tina. Every once in a while, Carmy would meet your gaze and smirk at you as he took a sip of his beer. You tried your best to maintain a straight face.

Richie was in the middle of a rant about god knows what. You had been zoned out for the past few minutes, and now you had no idea what he was talking about.

“The fuck keeps poking me?” Richie grumbled, bringing your attention back to the conversation. Richie stood up and started pushing the couch cushions on the couch that him, Syd, and Nat were sitting on.

You all watched him in confusion. “What the fuck are you talking about? There’s nothing there, Richie.” Sydney told him. Richie kept searching the couch. “No, see. Right here,” he said, finally realizing where the mystery object was.

Richie stuck his hand behind the cushion, grabbed it, and then held it up.

The four of you froze when you realized what it was.

Richie was holding up a dark red lacy bra.

Your bra.

But no one knew that.

“Yo, cousin,” Richie yelled, successfully grabbing Carmy’s attention. “Yo, what’s up?” Carmy asked, walking around the corner. He froze when he saw what was in Richie’s hand.

There was complete silence for a second as everyone realized what was happening.

Then, chaos erupted.

Natalie and Sydney jumped off the couch. “I am never sitting on this couch again.” Natalie said with visible disgust on her face. Carmy’s face turned the darkest shade of red you’d ever seen.

Marcus let out a whistle, embarrassing Carmy further. “Who does this belong to, cousin?” Richie asked, intrigued by Carmy’s mystery woman.

You stayed seated in the armchair, trying to make sure there wasn’t embarrassment written on your face too.

“Fuckin’ give that to me,” Carmy said, snatching the bra out of Richie’s hand and storming into his room. You heard him slam his dresser drawer after stuffing your bra in there.

You remembered back to the night that your bra ended up in the couch. You had just bought a new bra to surprise Carmy. He was a big fan of the purchase. In summary, it didn’t stay on very long and you both never even made it to Carmy’s bed.

Carmy came back into the room and avoided eye contact with the whole group. “So, who’s the girl, Berzatto?” You asked, teasingly. You knew if you were the only one who didn’t tease him, they’d get suspicious. You watched a smirk start to form on his face, but he stopped himself.

“Wouldn’t you all like to know?” Carmy answered without answering. He retreated back to the kitchen, searching for his keys. Richie and Marcus followed right behind him, practically whispering in his ear.

“Who’s the special lady, chef?” Marcus asked him. “None of your fuckin’ business, you assholes,” Carmy said with a chuckle. Richie threw his arm around Carmy’s shoulders, holding him close. “No wonder you’ve been so much more tolerable lately. You’ve been getting laid.” Richie said, smirking at Carmy.

“I’m taking a smoke break. Please don’t follow me.” Carmy said, ducking out the door.

“Who do you guys think the girl is? Is it Claire?” Sydney asked, looking over at you and Sugar. Sugar was quick to shake her head no. “I don’t think it’s Claire. I don’t think it’s anyone we know. I mean, he’s clearly crazy about her, and that’s why he hasn’t told anybody. He doesn’t want anybody to scare her off.” She added.

“What do you mean? You think this is a group of people that would scare a girl away. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You said, sarcastically.

“Guys, he left his phone.” Richie cheered, running over to the living room. You felt your stomach drop. The only proof that Richie could find about yours and Carmy’s relationship was in your phones. Carmy always made sure to hide the pictures of you both in his apartment when he had friends over.

You mentally prayed to any deity that would listen. You needed Richie to not get into Carmy’s phone. Just like that, you watched Richie perfectly guess Carmy’s password.

“Alright, c’mon cousin. You gotta have a picture of this mystery girl.” Richie said, clicking on the photos app. You wracked your brain for any reason to get that phone out of Richie’s hand.

The first photo Richie pulled up was a picture of yours and Carmy’s shadows. You’d both gone for a walk along the river, and Carmy had taken a picture of your shadows as you held hands.

Marcus and Sydney started booing that they couldn’t see the girls face, so Richie kept scrolling. He came onto another gem that was just a picture of your hand holding Carmy’s. You felt yourself start to hide your hands in your lap.

Richie started scrolling faster, getting more desperate for answers. You felt your heart skip a beat as he stopped on a picture.

It was a spicier picture.

One night with Carmy, as things got a little heated, he stopped to take your picture. He said you looked like the most beautiful woman on the planet, so he took a picture to commemorate it.

It was taken from his perspective as he was straddling you. It showed you lying on Carmy’s bed in a matching bra and panties set. Your hair was messy, and your lipstick was smeared. And to top it off, Carmy’s very recognizable tattooed hand was resting on your stomach.

You practically leapt across the room and snatched the phone out of Richie’s hand. Every person in the room was staring at you with shock and disbelief on their faces.

“It’s you? You’re fucking Carm?” Richie almost yelled. You had worried that your friends were getting suspicious, but it was clear from their reactions that they didn’t expect it at all.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You lied, slipping Carmy’s phone into your back pocket. They all clearly knew you were lying, but you were completely on the spot. You didn’t know what to say, and Carmy wasn’t even there to take some of the heat.

“You’re fucking my brother? You’ve told me stories about your sex life. Those were about my little brother?” Natalie asked, once again disgusted. She retreated to the kitchen to refill her wine glass. “You know what? Good for you. You saw what you wanted and you got it, but at the same time, I think I know too much about you both know.” Sydney tried to be supportive. You giggled at her response and accepted the high five she gave you.

Then, the door flung open, and Carmy walked back inside. “Well well well,” Richie said, turning to face Carmy with an almost wicked grin. You could see the light drain out of Carmy’s eyes.

“They know, Carmy,” you filled him in. He took a second to process your words. He hoped you weren’t talking about what he knew you were. “You told them?” He asked you.

Before you could respond, Richie butted in. “No, she didn’t. Something else told us,” Richie said, still smirking. He loved watched Carmy squirm as he tried to figure out what was going on.

“What’s he talking about?” Carmy asked, looking to you for help.

“You need to change your phone password. Richie was able to guess it.” You explained. Carmy froze before patting his pockets to check for his phone. You slid it out of your pocket and held it up to show him.

“All I have to say is well done.” Richie continued to tease him. Carmy walked over towards you and nudged you out of your seat. He sat down and pulled you down onto his lap. If everybody knew, he wasn’t going to sit on the other side of the room from you anymore.

“What did they see?” He whispered in your ear. You gave him a look that made him question whether he wanted to know or not. You unlocked his phone, turned down the brightness, and then showed him the photo. “Oh, shit. They saw that,” Carmy said, his eyes growing wide.

“Yeah, we saw it. And now we can’t unsee our friend doing things with our brother.” Sugar called out from the kitchen.

“I’m sorry, Sugar. I really am. I wish I told you sooner.” You apologized to her. She quickly shook her head. “Fuck telling me sooner. I don’t want to know sooner. I want to un-know. Please wipe my memory,” she said, earning a laugh from the room.

“That’s my favorite picture of you, y’know?” Carmy whispered in your ear so no one would hear him.

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[jonathanrook]

would you let me chase you through the woods with the intent of mauling you to death be honest. also don't tell me the lighting in my bathroom is shit i am Aware.

[halfmoonaria]

to see you

pairing: sam carpenter & reader

summary: sam sleeps so she can see you, 'cause she hates to wait so long.

word count: 3.1k

Sam had never had nightmares.

Not as a kid, not after watching scary movies with Tara. Not after Richie's betrayal, or even after facing multiple Ghostfaces.

In fact, there were times she wondered if she was living in a nightmare instead of just having them. The terror and chaos of her life often felt surreal, like something out of a twisted dream.

Sleep had always been her refuge, a place where the horrors of her waking life couldn't reach her.

But a few weeks ago, that changed.

The nightmares crept in, so vivid and intense that she could no longer tell where reality ended and the nightmares began. The terror felt as real as any Ghostface attack she had faced, blurring the lines between her waking life and the horrors in her mind.

It started subtly at first—restless nights, an uneasy feeling as she drifted off. Then, the vivid dreams began.

Dark, haunting, relentless.

They felt different from anything she had ever experienced, filled with an unshakable sense of dread that lingered long after she woke.

Each night, the dreams grew more intense. She would find herself back in the old theater, shadows stretching out like claws, and a gnawing fear she couldn't place.

It was as if the nightmares were trying to tell her something, dragging her back to a place she wanted desperately to forget.

During the day, she could push the thoughts away, bury herself in distractions. But as soon as she closed her eyes, the darkness would pull her back in, forcing her to confront the memories she had tried so hard to suppress.

Sam had always prided herself on her strength, her ability to face any challenge head-on. But these nightmares were different.

They felt deeply personal, laced with guilt and regret. And no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't escape them.

Just like now, as she lay in her bed. The room was dimly lit by the early morning light filtering through the curtains, casting long shadows that only seemed to deepen her unease.

She stirred slightly, her mind caught between the lingering dream and waking reality.

And then, she saw you, sitting on the side of her bed near her feet.

You looked just as you had the last time she saw you; eyes wide with fear, your clothes soaked in blood.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she blinked, trying to clear her vision. Slowly, she pushed herself up, her breath hitching as she took in the sight of you.

Your eyes met hers, and for a moment, she was lost in them. Those eyes, so hauntingly beautiful, were the first thing she had fallen in love with. They held a depth and emotion that spoke volumes, even now in the quiet of the room.

She remembered how they used to change shape when you laughed or smiled, crinkling at the corners in a way that made her heart flutter. She hadn't appreciated those small details when you were actually still here, too blinded by her own fears and suspicions.

But now that you were gone, those memories were all she had left. The light in your eyes, the warmth they held when they met hers, the soft wrinkles that formed at their edges—these were the things she cherished and missed the most.

She glanced around the room, searching for something to anchor her to the present.

The walls were lined with reminders of the past—photos of her with Tara, mementos of happier times. But all they did was remind her of what she had lost, of who she had lost.

Sam reached out, her hand trembling, but the closer she got, the more distant you seemed.

The room around her felt like it was closing in, the shadows growing darker, more menacing.

She wanted to speak, to say something, anything, to make it right, but the words caught in her throat. The silence between you was deafening, filled with all the things left unsaid.

Then, the silence shattered as you spoke, your voice a soft, chilling whisper.

"Sam." The way you said her name, cold and distant, sent shivers down her spine.

It almost looked as if you were looking at her, your eyes piercing through the veil of sleep and dream, anchoring her in this chilling reality.

The sound of it, so familiar yet not at all, twisted the knife of guilt deeper into her heart.

Sam's breath hitched as your gaze seemed to penetrate her very soul. Her mind raced, a whirlwind of regret and desperation.

"Y/n?" she finally managed to whisper, her voice cracking under the weight of the single word. "What are you doing here?"

Your expression remained unchanged, unreadable. The shadows around you seemed to pulse with each beat of her heart, enveloping you in an otherworldly darkness.

"I'm here because you need to remember," you replied, your voice echoing with an eerie calm.

"Remember what?" Sam asked, her fingers clenching into fists at her sides.

"You know," you said, the air around you growing colder. "Remember what happened that night."

Sam's mind flashed back to that fateful night, the memory she had tried so hard to bury. The old theater, the blood, the terror—everything came rushing back in a flood of overwhelming emotion.

"I remember," she whispered, her voice barely audible, trembling. "I remember everything."

Sam didn't want to remember. She wanted to forget.

She wanted to forget about how she'd hesitated, about how she'd treated you, about what had ultimately happened to you.

But in moments like these, as your image haunted her dreams, she realized she never would. The memories were a relentless tide, surging back to drown her, reminding her that some things were impossible to bury.

In truth, she shouldn't have expected anything else. Life had a cruel way of reminding her of her failures.

The horror of that night, the way she had turned on you, suspected you, left you alone—it was all too harsh a reminder of her own shortcomings.

She had pushed you away, driven by fear and mistrust, and now she was left to face the consequences of her actions.

Your eyes never left hers, filled with a sorrowful intensity that made it impossible for her to look away. "Do you remember why I was alone that night?" you asked, your voice cutting through her defenses like a

How could she not? The echo of that night was a constant, cruel reminder, reverberating through her mind with every moment of silence.

The argument, the distrust, the way she had pushed you away—it replayed in her thoughts, relentless and unforgiving.

Every time she was alone, the memory surfaced, an insidious whisper in the quiet. It lingered in the gaps of conversation, haunting her when she was most vulnerable.

"I was scared and I screwed up," Sam said quietly. "I thought I was protecting Tara." She paused, her voice barely above a whisper. "And myself."

The words felt bitter on her tongue. As soon as they left her lips, Sam felt a wave of self-reproach wash over her. It sounded like she was admitting she was scared of you, as if you were the threat all along.

But that wasn't true; she had never truly been afraid of you. She felt foolish for implying it, knowing deep down that her fear had been misplaced, and now it was too late to make things right.

She noticed your expression change, the sorrow in your eyes deepening. Panic welled up inside her, and she began to ramble, desperate to explain.

"I was afraid," she admitted, her voice breaking. "I thought... I thought you might be Ghostface. I left you alone because I didn't trust you."

Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision. She felt a deep sense of shame and guilt, wishing she could crawl out of her own skin. The weight of her mistakes pressed down on her, almost suffocating.

She dared to meet your gaze again, and for a moment, she saw the eyes she had once loved.

They were captivating—deep pools of warmth and vulnerability that had always drawn her in.

They held a beauty that made her heart ache, a softness that had once been a refuge from the chaos of her life.

But then, as she stared, the familiar tenderness seemed to twist and darken.

The eyes she had always known began to harden, the warmth replaced by an unsettling chill. What was once an intimate reflection of love and trust now seemed distant and cold, as if an impenetrable shadow had taken its place.

They looked nothing like the eyes she remembered, and she couldn't bring herself to think that it really was.

"Maybe a part of you wanted it to be me?" you said, your voice tinged with a sharp edge.

"You never fully believed in me," you continued, the harshness of your new gaze cutting through the room. "In your fear, you wanted to prove yourself right. Is that right?"

Sam's heart pounded in her chest, guilt tightening their grip.

A part of what you said was true, and that realization hit her like a punch to the gut forcing her to gulp.

She had trouble trusting you ever since you first got together, haunted by the betrayals of her past. Despite her hope that she'd eventually warm up and love you the way you deserved, the walls she had built remained firmly in place.

Throughout your relationship, her cruelty had taken many forms. She remembered the harsh words she had thrown at you in moments of insecurity, accusing you of things you never did.

The cold stares she gave you when you tried to get close, the way she dismissed your acts of kindness as if they were nothing. She had pushed you away, not just that night, but constantly, making you feel unwanted and unloved.

You had always been so kind, always doing little things to show you cared. She recalled the times you made her coffee in the morning, the meals you cooked when she was too tired, the small gifts you gave just to see her smile.

But instead of gratitude, she met your efforts with cold indifference. "I didn't ask for this," she'd often say, brushing you off as if your gestures meant nothing.

She recalled the nights you stayed up late to comfort her, only to be met with indifference. The times you planned thoughtful gestures to make her smile, which she brushed off with an unkind remark.

Every time she shut you out, every time she made you feel less than, it all came crashing down on her now, the weight of her actions suffocating.

"I never wanted it to be you. I just...I didn't know how to love you the way you loved me," she finally whispered, her voice breaking.

"Scared?" you replied, your voice a mix of anger and sorrow. "I understand fear, Sam. But I never understood why you directed it at me."

You looked at her with those haunting eyes, now filled with a pain that mirrored her own. "I loved you, and I only wanted to be there for you. But you pushed me away, treated me like an enemy."

The room seemed to grow colder as your words hung in the air. "I needed you, Sam. And you left me alone to die."

Sam's heart clenched painfully at your words, the truth of them striking deep. The weight of her guilt pressed down on her, almost suffocating. She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came. Instead, memories flooded her mind, pulling her back to the night that haunted her.

The fight had been fierce. Her mistrust was baseless, a projection of her own insecurities. She had accused you of being distant, of hiding something. When in reality, she was the one who had been acting off, but admitting that felt impossible. She blamed you, as she always did.

Her voice had been sharp, cutting through the air with cruel accusations. She remembered the way you had looked at her—hurt, confused, and trying to calm her down. You had reached out to touch her arm, your voice soft and soothing, but she had pulled away, anger flaring even more. She accused you of betraying her, of secrets that only existed in her mind.

You tried to reason with her, your eyes pleading for understanding. But she was too far gone in her rage, too blinded by her own fears to see the truth. You had stepped back, shoulders slumping in defeat as you realized she wouldn't listen.

Later, after everything had happened, she would remember the look in your eyes during that fight. The way you had looked at her with so much pain, so much confusion.

It was only after, in the quiet moments when she was alone with her thoughts, that she realized how deeply she had hurt you. You had looked at her as if trying to understand how she could even entertain the thought that it could be you.

Then after she had made the mistake of leaving you alone with a serial killer on the run. After she had fought off the Ghostfaces; who were revealed to be Quinn, Ethan, and Detective Bailey—and managed to escape with Tara, the relief of surviving felt hollow and incomplete.

She had been desperate to get to safety, to find a way out of the nightmare she was trapped in.

Eventually, she had found you,but the sight that greeted her was more harrowing than she had ever imagined.

The blood was everywhere, pooling around you, staining your clothes, and smeared across the floor. The sight was horrifying, a nightmarish tableau that she couldn't erase from her mind.

Your eyes, once so full of life, were bloodshot and terrified, darting around as if looking for help that wouldn't come. You were barely breathing, each shallow breath a struggle.

Your pretty clothes, which you had worn for the evening, were soaked in crimson, a stark contrast to their original color.

She had dropped to her knees beside you, her hands shaking uncontrollably as she tried to stop the bleeding with anything she could find. Her voice, usually so strong, had broken into desperate sobs as she called your name, begging you to stay with her.

But it had been too late. Your eyes had looked up at her, filled with pain and fear, before closing forever.

The horror of that moment, the overwhelming sense of loss and guilt, had never left her. It was a scene she replayed over and over, a reminder of her failures and the consequences of her distrust.

She had pushed you away, driven by fear, and in the end, she had lost you. And you never made her forget.

You made sure of it. Every single night.

She blinked, realizing with a jolt that you were still in front of her.

Usually, in her dreams, you'd be gone by now. You never stayed long. But here you were, your presence as haunting and real as ever.

Her throat felt dry, almost as if she was being choked, the suffocating sensation of the nightmare gripping her.

She swallowed hard, trying to find the strength to continue. "I'm sorry you don't get to be here.. I know how much you wanted to."

You had always found joy in the little things, always had a smile for her, no matter how cold she had been.

"I love you," she said, her voice barely audible. "I always did. I'm so sorry."

A tear slid down your cheek, glistening in the dim light, as you gazed at her with a sadness that seemed to encompass the entire room.

Sam's heart ached as she looked at you. Seeing you cry now, in this haunting, surreal moment, filled her with a profound regret. When you were alive, she had brushed off your tears, indifferent to your pain.

"Sam," you said, your voice trembling with a mixture of sorrow and frustration, "Why didn't you tell me this when I was alive?"

Sam's bottom lip began to tremble. She truly didn't know that to answer, if she said she did; she'd be lying. If she tried to excuse herself she would feel disgusted by her own words, and if she'd be silence, you'd say something else.

Although she didn't have time to answer, before you began to disintegrate. The edges of your form blurred, and your figure grew increasingly translucent.

Panic surged through Sam as she watched you slip away. "No, please," she begged, her voice cracking. "Don't go. Please, stay."

Her pleas were desperate, her hands reaching out to grasp the empty air where you had been. But it was too late. You vanished completely, leaving her alone in the cold, dark room.

She jolted awake, heart racing, drenched in sweat. The room was silent and still, the early morning light casting soft shadows on the walls. She sat up, gasping for air, her mind reeling from the vivid terror of the dream.

With a start, Sam woke up, heart pounding, drenched in sweat. She sat up, gasping for air, her mind reeling from the vivid terror of the dream.

The room around her was silent and still, the only thing being heard was her panting and the morning birds chirping outside her window.

The air felt heavy with the remnants of your presence. The warmth and scent that lingered in the air, traces of you, became a haunting echo in the emptiness.

As if you'd actually been there.

Everything had felt so real. It always did.

Which was why most nights, she slept to see you. She couldn't bear to wait until death's cold grip might finally reunite you, however distant that might be.

She went to bed in hopes of seeing you, to beg for the forgiveness she couldn't ask for in life.

Even though it was nightmares, and even though it wasn't the real you, she saw you.

And it felt real.

[dontmixpaintinyourcoffee]

More of my favorite Prudes <3

Alright, left to right, top to bottom:

1. I just get the vibe that Grace has beef with Richie specifically but for no discernable reason ("Richie, the whole point is that it's in the dark!" + "No, this is where you GROW UP!") and the second the sentence popped into my head I had to draw it. Also consider how goddamn funny the image of Grace pulling bleach and gloves and a bone saw out of her backpack is because holy shit did she have a contingency plan

2. I think that Pete saw Ted as the coolest big brother in the world right up until the exact minute he introduced him to Steph and suddenly Ted had the power to be very embarrassing in front of Pete's friends. (He would be used to this, as this is standard older sibling shithead behavior, but he's never had friends for Ted to tease him in front of.) I do think the Spankoffski brothers are really interesting, especially with what an asshole Ted is. In Abstinence Camp Pete does seem to really look up to him. Ted does not hide the fact that he's a massive prick, so the fact that Pete sees him as a positive figure implies that he's one of the very few people that Ted actually tries to be a good person for. Makes a lot of sense too, the age gap between them is massive, so Pete has no way of knowing the kind of sleazy shit Ted does, he's just the cool older brother to him. Also heheheh I did the funny meme

3. All her brothers got one so I gave Webby a humansona. I don't know why she ended up looking like 90s Gwen Stacy but I kinda like it? I was going for classic straight-a student, not quite as frilly as Grace, but very academic and cute. I also think that Webby should be allowed to be a little cosmically horrifying as a treat (watching her casually fucking evaporate Willabella was so unnerving and cool, I would love more of that.) She lets herself be soft and gentle for Hannah's benefit, don't want to scare a little kid after all, but she exists far beyond those... Limitations.

4. Ok this one is highly inspired by a series of drawings by @samglyph , the concept of Ghost Ruth and Richie took my brain captive. So go show them some love!!!!!

[jillgirlfriends]

ethan landry like boyfriend

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

warnin: dark themes, mentions of murder, ethan is sweet and a good boy for you, smut

I think ethan just loves to gossip with you. he is the guy who knows everything that happens at the university or in your dorm with him. ethan loves to gossip with you, in the evenings lying on his bed. especially, you both love to make fun of chad and tara. laughing at the fact that chad can't kiss this bithc, or at the fact that tarantula got into trouble again.

- «tarantula got into some trouble again, she had a fight with some idiot from the fraternity» - you rolled your eyes. and ethan chuckled softly. you both even came up with nicknames for this two bitches.

this guy is very clingy. this guy always manages to hold your hand, keep his hand on your waist or on your thigh. as soon as he sees you, he already out of habit puts keeps his hand on your body.

ethan will save money for a long time for your date with him or for some gift for you. he will save money diligently and try not to spend much. on dates he is definitely a gentleman.

when you find out he's ghostface, you still love him and he's grateful to you for it. he told you a funny story about a richie's girlfriend. ethan immediately started to hate amber.. he's just irritated by her stupid pig-like face. she even tried to flirt with him, so he taught her a lesson. a bucket of bugs fell on amber, and eth also ruined her clothes. after that, he never saw that pig.

he also absolutely despises people who try to make fun of you or flirt with you. he just hates the blonde emily at your university with all his heart because she always manages to make fun of you. ethan somehow ended up changing the water in the water machine to dirty and also broke the machine itself, and all the water poured out on this slut and she was famous throughout the university. you still remember how the blonde ran feverishly, and even fell in the hallway. a week later, ethan killed her.

- «baby.. is this your doing?» - ethan pretended to be the stupidest person in the world and looked at you with his big puppy eyes.

ethan just loves any clothes you wear. but he prefers it when you wear dresses. he loves your elegance. but he just hates it when you wear something revealing in public. he prefers it when you wear it in front of him, because it will definitely lead to sex later.

he loves sharing his cheetos with you, and he also loves cooking with you. he's.. actually, he knows a little about cooking. at least he's good at peeling potatoes.. but he'll definitely cut himself with a knife and you, being a caring girlfriend, will put a bandage on his cut and kiss him to soothe him. he literally melts deep down.

you're that quiet, nerdy couple, but behind closed doors you have a very... special and passionate relationship.

he is just obsessed with your hair. literally. when you are together in the dorm and relaxing, he will gently comb your hair and massage your head. this guy has hands from God.. (i kissed those hands)

if he suddenly does something wrong, he will literally beg you for forgiveness on his knees. for him it is like a catastrophe, and he is already going crazy and thinks that you will leave him. and if you do... then, endure a rough night of love with him.

his heart melts when you protect him from mindy, or anika's insults, or chad's rage. he literally looks at you and thinks.. "how did i get a girlfriend like that"

you are pinned to the very first place in his phone, and notifications are turned on only for you. except for his father, sister and chad, there is no one else in his contacts. he does not care at all about tara, sam, anika or mindy.

during rough sex he often starts complaining about your friends. his mouth is so dirty.. and you are just shocked by his words. he literally curses chad and tara and you can hear him growling.

he doesn't actually use condoms, he likes to take risks.. (what a bad boy) and he also often lies to you that he ran out of condoms, although he just hid them

he probably asked his sister quinn for dating advice and he regretted it.. she was always teasing him and making fun of her poor brother.

ethan is actually good at drawing, he secretly draws in class and rarely in econ when he gets too bored. he can only draw girls and their faces, and you know what kind of girl he always draws.

so in murders he shows his creative personality as an artist and creates his own work of art. remember anika.

you talk about anything. he prefers to listen more, he is ready to listen to any nonsense that you say and just admire your voice. he looks only at you and literally remembers everything that you tell him.

in the second act, your boyfriend literally saved you from falling out of the window. it happened that sam accidentally pushed you and you almost fell, he literally almost went crazy and pushed you away from the window. during the second act, he paid attention to you and only left you alone. when you were climbing the ladder, he deliberately began to slow down to knock down the door so that you could climb over.

his father will definitely faint when he finds out about his future wedding plans.. ethan is actually planning on marrying you when he graduates from university or a little earlier.

ethan is literally a cat. he has excellent vision and can even see well at night, he can also climb on roofs as a ghostface. and he can also.. purr. after his kills, he snuggles up to you and purrs quietly because you're next to him. but he doesn't like fish and can't stand the smell of fish. he can only tolerate salmon.

- «baby, thank you, it's so delicious.. I'll wash the dishes now» - ethan is literally ready to thank you on his knees for your care and food.

this boy barely eats normal food before you came into his life. you started cooking him light and healthy food. he just loves your fruit salad.

basically, ethan landry is a great boyfriend. he's caring, shy, and a very loyal guy. plus, he's your number 1 serial killer. girl, you've fallen in love with a criminal.

[sexilene]

MORE 80s SLASHER JOHN B!! PLEASE I BEG

YESSS OFC!!! (sorry about any misspellings, ignore em lol!)

₊ ⊹ warnings! 18+ - pinv, slight gaslighting, violence, death, spanking, drowning, dark!john b but also kinda sweet john b in a concerning way lol- ₊˚⊹

john b watched you from afar, sitting on a picnic table in the shade making yarn bracelets with some of the kids in his group, his eyes never leaving your figure for more than a few seconds. you were chatting away with one of the other counselors and a few of the little girls in your group. the little girls were teasing you and the guy, richie, by asking if you were boyfriend and girlfriend and to "kissss" each other.

"no way am i kissin' him! i happen to think that boys are pretty gross don't you think?" you smile playfully, placing your hands on your hips.

"awwe come on! i'm not gross am i?" richie pretends to be offended and places his hand over his heart, making the little girls giggle.

"mm hmm, you sure are!"

you squeal when richie suddenly lifts you over his shoulder and walks towards the shore of lake like he's going to throw you in. john b decides that's enough and jogs over before richie can throw you in. 

"hey man, put her down…wouldn't want any accidents right? the nearest emergency room isn't for a few miles, and the camp hasn't got the best first aid." john b warns, squinting his eyes and tilting his head, almost like he's implying something else.

"we were just kiddin' around johnny!" richie laughs as he sets you down, your feet touching the sand again.  john b clenches his jaw at the nickname and nods like he understands.

"s'alright johnbee, got him just in time!" you smile, trying to relieve the tension between the clearly upset brunette and the cocky red head.

"alright girls! how about we go see if we can use the finger paints now?" you ask the group of little girls who nod and agree, two of the girls taking your hands and leading you back up the hill, leaving john b and richie there.

the next morning, the older kid group and their counselor decide to use the canoes for a morning activity. as they make it out onto the lake one of the kid's ores smacks against something causing all the kids to look at the water. the boy in the front then points to the object, yelling out a loud "HOLY SHIT!". there, floating face up, is richie's blue, dead body, with some froth present around his nostrils and mouth. 

you stand outside with the other counselors in pajamas after keeping all the kids away from the area and doing activities elsewhere. the paramedics take richie away in a body bag and your heart sinks, john b stands behind you, the warmth of his body and just the smell of him somehow calming you down a bit.

"what do you think could have happened to him?" you look up at john b with wide teary puppy eyes, worried he might have something to do with it since the…incident. 

"i dunno sweetheart, he must have gone out for a late night swim, probably accidentally drowned…" he wraps his arm around your front and you bring your hand up to place over his.

"let's hope we can get through the summer without the parents pulling their kids out," he whispers. 

"johnbee?"

"hmm?"

"you didn't- you know…" he just sighs and attempts to pull you back into his embrace, but you won't get any closer until he answers your question. when he only looks at you and doesn't say a word you start to walk away from him, and back to your cabin, confused and frustrated. but of course that doesn't go well with him, he won't tolerate you walking away from him like that, so he follows you and enters your cabin room behind you and shuts the door.

"lisetn to me, hey hey, look at me. i know you might still be a little scared of me but you don't need to be. okay?" he starts off gently, trying to level with you as calmly as he can be.

"ohkay…" you sigh and turn to look at him, you really don't want to have this conversation with him right now after being overwhelmed with so many things happening at once.

"i'd never do anything to hurt you, m'just trying to keep you safe that's all."

"i know…" you whisper

"good. that's why i do the things i do…i have a responsibility to watch out for these kids and when i think someone is dangerous then-"

"i don't want to hear you say it…" you interrupt him and shake your head with tears springing at your waterline. john b knows how you get when you feel conflicted or rather overwhelmed, he's seen it before when you get stressed while dealing with the kids.

"okay, alright…hey c'mere," he pulls you into a hug, his bulky body effectively enveloping you as you press your cheek to his chest.

"you really scared me that night-"

"didn't mean to bub, i promise not to do that again." he sighs, shaking his head though you can't see him.

"i really liked you."

"liked?"

"i- still do, s'just that-" you ramble.

"hey hey stop, breaaathe…breathe for me. let's do something okay? something to calm you down a little, y'gonna let me do that for you?" he soothes, bending down to meet your teary eyes. the minute you make eye contact with him you nod.

"words." he chides, needing to hear you confirm that you wanted it.

"yes, yes john b.." you whisper shyly.

"'m gonna take these off, aaand these pretty panties," he whispers gently, taking you through what he is currently doing. sliding down your little pink sleep shorts and white cotton panties, the fabrics pooling around your feet. john b then takes off his loose-fitted cropped sleep shirt and tosses it to the side, nodding his head over to your bed. he takes your hand and guides you over, taking a seat and lifting you up onto his meaty thigh.

"just gonna sit you on it and its gonna relax you alright?"

"its not gonna fit,"

"fit last time." he laughs through his nose and pulls himself out of his plaid pajama pants, you looked down at his dick, much bigger than you remembered and your cunt already began to clench around nothing. picking you up like nothing, you wrap your arms around his neck, john b impales your drippy wet cunt on his huge cock. the stretch making your eyes roll back momentarily and muffle you your cries on the skin between his shoulder and neck

"shshsh, its in, its in…" he coos, rubbing your back. "just turn your brain off bubba."

as soon as he can feel that you've relaxed and adjusted to his size he starts to move your hips back in forth with a gentle grip of his huge hands.

"i did kill riche, i had to do it to protect you baby…it's my job." you mewl at his confession and clench around his dick, earning a low groan out of him. he knew you wouldn't really register what he was telling you but at least he wouldn't feel guilty since he did just tell you the truth.

"jus' don't want you to hurt me," you whine.

"never, never…love you so much," he assures you, now using his strength to bounce you up and down slightly.

"don't gotta think about anything bub, just let me do all the work." he looks down and the bulge that presses against your lower stomach, making him hiss and squeeze the meat of your ass roughly.

"reall-really like you jombee…" you cry, tangling your fingers into the back of his hair, trying to keep yourself grounded as he bounces you on his fat cock.

"need to hear you say you love me, baby." he grunts, smacking your ass cheek harshly.

"love you, love you somuch, i really wanna cum please!" you squeal as he continues to use your sloppy wet pussy.

"i know bub, whenever you want, m'right there." john b stops bouncing you and lets you sink back down on him fully, then presses his thumb down hard on your clit. you mewl out pathetically as you cum and pulse all over him until he fills you up from just feeling you cum on him.

"fuck, so pretty, my pretty puppy." he smiles and presses a wet kiss to your cheek and wipes away the tears that happen to fall down your face.

"y'feel better now? hmm?"

"mm hmm…" still seated on him, leaking cum around the base of his dick, you hazily drop your cheek on his shoulder.

[chefkids]

Claire is Carmy's projection of Sydney.

Costuming is one of the most straightforward ways to tell an audience what a character is like and what their role is. Claire's costuming choices show how she was literally just a clear blank slate for Carmy to project Syd onto. So come peel this onion with me.

When he first sees her after being away from him for a while she's wearing a green jacket, who else famously has worn a green puffer jacket all throughout the series and when she reconnected with Carmy after she left?

When he takes Claire on that post office trip drive through Sydney's favorite UPS route, Sheridan Road, she's wearing a brown jacket which looks very similar to the kinds that UPS drivers like Sydney would wear.

When Claire is at the party with him trying to get with Carmy and pursue a new relationship, she just had a denim jacket. Which we have also seen Sydney wear a denim jacket around him when they were trying to start a new relationship aka partnership together by building the new restaurant.

And then we see her white button shirt, dark pants, and the blue denim jacket when Carmy takes her back to the restaurant, which is basically all Carmy saw Syd wearing for most of the time while at the restaurant when she was in her white button down, dark pants, and blue apron.

When he cooks for Claire we see her for the first time in a tank top at the exact same time we see Sydney the most undressed she's ever been in a bra.

When she's in his kitchen she's in his white t-shirt she tries to have a somewhat vulnerable moment with him. She asks him what he is thinking about when he's clearly stressed and he deflects to just complement her. Later when he is with Syd in her white t-shirt in their kitchen at The Bear, he is vulnerable with her about his mother and tries to get her to be vulnerable with him and she finally tells him about her mom dying.

At Friends & Family night is the one time we see her dressed in the most uniquely herself way in a black dress, and she looks like she's ready for a funeral. Which it essentially was the death of her and Carmy's relationship that night. We also know that this is what Sydney will be doing at the start of Season 3, going to a funeral with Carmy. RIP Claire. (yes i know it's marcus' mom but the metaphor is still there and this is still a comedy after all)

Claire has very little identity of her own because Carmy never bothers to know her like he knows Syd. When Claire is on her own she's always in her scrubs, because he doesn't have much else of an image of her besides the fact that she's a doctor now. But he knows Syd well enough to know the exact designer brand she likes to wear and make her a custom jacket.

He knows about Syd's mom dying because he repeatedly asks her about her family and parents without even knowing them. Claire told him about her cousin dying and he basically said "damn that sucks" even though he knew him personally. He knows about Syd's struggles with her job history through catering and fine dining. Claire told him about her life as a doctor and the only thing he came out with was that it was a time intensive job and that he thought she liked taking care of people by helping to fix them. Which is exactly what he tells Sydney he notices about her later on. She likes to take care of people and to fix things like she tried to fix the restaurant.

He didn't give af about Claire's life or personality, he just wanted to project Sydney's onto it. Carmy wanted to want to be with Claire, because everyone around him told him it was what he should want from Mikey to Fak to Richie. So he chose to see and project as much of Syd, who he already knew deep down he liked but was too scared to pursue, on to Claire. That's why he took her on that drive and why he made her the Sydney's pasta recipe that he knew Sydney already liked. Because he doesn't bother getting to know Claire, he just assumes Sydney's identity on to her. And what he did come to know and do with her that was her choice, like going to a party with drunk friends, only ended up associating her with his alcoholic mother and his brother at their Christmas party.

And in the end he still realized he couldn't just replace Sydney in his mind with her.

[neonovember]

This is an idea that’s been on my mind lately because Carmy would be so protective and would 100% treat his gf like a princess, so I thought I’d send it in ifs it’s okay!!🤧

Can I please request Carmy x fem!reader where it’s based off the song “Treat You Better”, where she’s one of his chefs, and Carmy has a biiiig soft spot for her, like soft smiles, hand on the small of her back. Y/n is veryyyy soft spoken and quiet, a very stark contrast to the rest of The Beef/The Bear staff. The staff absolutely love her and are super protective of her: She’s best friends with Sydney (also she’s around the same age as Syd, early 20s), Tina sees her as a daughter, Marcus is always trying to make her laugh and asks her to try his pastries, Richie is more gentle with her than he is with everyone else, Ebra has a calmness around Y/n, Sugar (when she stops by) loves treating Y/n like the little sister she never had, and Carmy… Carmy is head over heels for Y/n. He’s so soft and gentle with her, never raising his voice at her in the kitchen, and he always has the cutest nicknames for her🤧. However… Y/n has a boyfriend, they all know it, and they all share an extreme dislike for him. He’s not very nice, and it all goes to a boiling point when they spot bruises, Y/n letting her hair fall over her face.🥺 Tina and Sydney probably noticing right as she walks in one morning, then the rest of the staff noticing too, the whole kitchen getting eerily quiet, Carmy pulling her aside to his office to talk to her, holding Y/n in his arms while she cries🥺 Carmy 100% taking his bat and beating the crap out of her bf… Now ex, and he offers for Y/n to stay with him because she has nowhere to go? Their relationship growing after that? Y/n kissing him one day, shook at herself, but he kisses her back?

July in November

carmen berzatto x fem! reader

warnings: heavy domestic abuse, controlling fiance, swearing, violence, carmen goes gives absolute no regard for felonies, (assumed) unrequited love, self deprecation, victim blaming

a/n: this entire fic is just time skips l swear, I've written something similar here as well if you liked this which i hope you did! dv is a heavy subject, and not something to trivialise. if you or someone you know is going through dv, please reach out x

banner from @firefly-graphics

The streaks of concealer do little to hide the bloom of dark purples and blues.

They stretch out, clawing up your side and past your ribs, shades of overlapping blotched bruises that were not yet healed.

You were a chef trained in Oslo for god sake, you had friends and family who loved you- and you let out a laugh when the words come out pathetic and dull. 

You were right where he left you.

You suppose from the continuous uphill of your career, the exhaustion had made it easier to just sit still, let it happen. He had proposed and you had said yes unblinking. It was what he told the countless people at dinner parties he dragged you to in attendance, 

“I had finally beat her down enough to finally fall in love with me” He smiled, his eyes shining and his grip on your waist bruising as the people smiled and laughed and you swallowed back his irony.

The cycles of abuse had started before you could truly remember, bouts of angry yelling before the hot dull beat of pain. And he was so kind after, so thoughtful and apologetic, his eyebrows furrowed and his touch gentle as he leaned over you.

Were you still a victim, if you wanted to stay just for the after?

You shake your head, slowly blinking at the reflection of your bloated torso. Peeling away your shirt gently before buttoning up one of your work shirts instead.

Your heart settled when you thought of the Bear. It was your haven, Richie’s rambled drivel, Sugar hovering every so near, Carmen with his eyes and his inked hands and his sweet mouth. It wrapped around you more tightly than those bruises ever could.

You look over to watch your fiancé, fast asleep content with a full stomach and tired fists. He was so vulnerable like that, and the feeling of anger unfurls in your gut. For once, just one time you wanted him to feel it, that gut wrenching frightened feeling.

You look over to the stone doorstep near his desk, the stupid thing that he had revered at one of his art conventions that was left keeping the door open. You wonder, just for a second, what it would feel like to lean over him with it between your hands, waiting for the slight blink of his eyes that clear away the sleep. 

Watch the fear melt into them, and smashing his fucking face with it.

You breathe deeply, arranging your hair so it is out of your face, flattening out the creases in your shit and avoiding your stomach as you stood up and grabbed your bag.

“Where are you going” 

You blink, hands gripping your work bag as his voice bellows “Work”

“Huh. We need to sort that out soon”

You stopped, closing your eyes as you fiddled with the loose threads from the shoulder strap. You knew this conversation, where he would bring up another thing in your life he wanted to talk about, as if your relationship was built on a solid base of understanding and conversation. You would wait until his voice would ripen with jealousy and rage, where thinly veiled inquisition would fall away and reveal what he truly wanted. 

You had given him enough of your life, let him change and control it. But you would soon let yourself be buried then let him take this too from you. No fucking way.

“Sure”

You pass by the door, pushing the stone to the side. It wasn’t heavy at all.

It’s when you enter the back door of the Bear do you realise you’ve spent your whole commute over holding your breath.

The smells of sauces and expensive meats lulls your anxiety into a mummering tremble, and you sigh softly to yourself as you sling your bag into your locker.

You can already hear Richie arguing, and the tired voice of Carmen biting back and you want to slap yourself for all the times you had grown annoyed at them. What you would give to hear them always, to feel this level of safety and comfort without the overhanging timer of when you would eventually have to leave.

You nod towards Sydney, carrying a large tray of roasted pecans over to Sam, her braids intricately wrapped around her head.

The walkway is framed with pictures of the family, from Mickey to the recent Polaroids of Sugar's newborn. You notice a framed picture of the team from years ago, when you had first started working at the Bear. You’re squished between Carmen and Fak, the backdrop of a renovating Bear behind you all. 

The timidiness of being new had not left then, and despite the family enveloping you as their own you had wondered why Carmen had chosen you out of all the decorated chefs that had surely applied. You had asked him this once, after an exhausting dinner rush and he had simply looked up at you from his plate of stolen steak and eggs. 

“You’ve got something, Kid. Maybe it’s because you hadn’t yet gotten the light beaten out from the culinary world but I need that. Need someone who pushes against the boundaries you know?”

You had stayed quiet as he talked

“And you’re a local. Boston isn’t for the faint of heart, you know your diners better than they know themselves. Call it prejudice, I call it a safety cushion.“

You wondered what she would think of you now, her wide eyed dream so close you could see her tight grip on her chef coat in the grainy photograph.

You follow the noise of the crew into the kitchen, when Carmen is hunched over a chopping board and Richie is pointing out problems in the seating arrangement for tonight.

He exhales, ready to start another contingent when he spots your figure walking through the entryway.

“Finally. Someone fucking competent in this place” 

“Hey Richie” You smile, tightening your apron before biting back a wince. The darkness of your life outside of the Bear had a way of seeping in at times, you had grown too comfortable.

“Hey baby, you good? yeah?” Richie replies

“Richie-“ Carmen interrupts, turning his head to face you for the first time in an hour (which you did not realise but Riche surely did) 

“Fuck off. Fuck you. You sure baby? Need me to get you somethin? I got a pack of Marlboros if you need a break”

“Leave her alone, dammit Richie, and a cigarette this early?”

“Oh! Oh! The addict wants to act holier than thou all of a sudden. Just because you slapped on a couple Nic patches-“

“It’s gum and it’s fucking working asshole”

“The L hold you up?” Richie says, throwing the finger at Carmen

“No, no, um, just got in a little fight with David” You reply, cutting your eyes away from him.

Richie rolls his eyes with a groan, a sour expression filters over his face in flash at the mention of your fiance’s name.

“That fuckin’ guy, I swear that boyfriend of yours” Richie groans

“It was my fault really.”

You notice Carmen’s movements stop abruptly, the chopping growing silent with his back turned to you.

“I highly doubt that” Carmen grumbles, before Tina and Sydney come through the door

“Hey, why were you late you missed out on that guy who tried fighting Fak-”

“Her stupid fucking boyfriend”

“Easy” Carmen replies, turning to face you again

“Hey, c’mon Carmen you of all people know that man does not deserve her one fucking bit”

“Darling you need to get rid of that man I’m telling you, he ain't treating you the way you deserve. There's no good keeping an angry man” Tina chides, eyebrows raised as she wipes her fingers on the cloth draped over her shoulder.

“Yeah, he's a dick. And he’s always just…hovering when he comes.” Sydney replies

“And always talk in this condescending tone, adding random words to sound smarter than he is” Marcus’s voice interjects, peeking from around the pastry corner

“Like pseudo-intellectual goddamn-” Tina grumbles, in lightning speed

“Yuppie” Fak continues, and Tina nods 

“All I’m saying doll, is that if you end up dumpin’ him we’d be right behind ya’. Might throw a little party here, a small one…how much does it cost to hire some fireworks?”

“Ease up guys, her love life ain’t got nothing to do with us alright. Let the girl be” Carmen voice bellows “And we got work to do”

He turns to the rest of them, shaking his head feigning annoyance at the team gathering together to gossip. And yet, his hands grip his towel tight enough to leave them white, and his teeth grind against his molars when he thinks of your boyfriend.

You don’t know how they'd react when they find out he proposed, you can’t exactly hide a ring.

“Hey” You smile towards Carmen, who’s twisted features blink into resolve when he hears you

“Hey” He nods, wincing as he pressed his fingers to his temple gingerly.

“Still got that headache?”

“I’ll be fine, just wish it would save the eye stabbing until after dinner service”

“Here”

“I’m alright-“

“Take it” you repeat, pressing some pain killers in his hand.

Carmen nods gratefully, hands clasped around yours for a second longer. Before they part.

He eyes the pills, and for a second you see this puzzled look gleam across his eyes.

He pops them in his mouth, you let out a breath from your chest quietly.

You kept your work and home life separate, Carmen didn’t need nor should carry the burden of this ugly secret that paints you from the inside out.

You had a lid on it. You were sure.

You let yourself get lost in the ingrained memory of moving around the kitchen, letting the slice of your knife against the flesh of meat and fruit melt away everything you had been shouldering the past year.

It gets busy, really busy, Richie and Carmen fail to cohabitate in the hours of the dinner service, multiple plates are dropped, you almost can’t keep up with the never ending orders coming in but its also fucking amazing. The rush of delivering every component of a plate in time, making sure the meat is cooked until just right, making sure the sauce isn't runny, it feels like dancing. 

Your legs and arms ache, you have a headache and your apron is stained and you can’t tell the difference between the end of the dinner service and hitting the last step of a choreographed dance.

The high that buzzes through your body is mirrored by everyone around you, and you take a second to sink in that feeling of euphoria as the last tables are cleared.  

“That was..” You start, un-hunching your shoulders as the rest of the team look up in a daze, surrounding the kitchen

“Fuckin’ amazing, might be our best night yet” Richie grins, bobbing his chin as it rests on his hands

“That was good..we could've been a bit better at turning the tables-” Carmen murmurs

“Oh c’mon Carmy, we can talk about the finalities later but even you can admit that was pretty good” Sydney calls out, leaning her head against the door frame, as exhausted pulls at her every feature

“Yeah…yeah it was good”

“No one go anywhere, I’ve got left over schnitzel and potatoes and I know none of you have taken a break”

“How long has it been since we’ve sat down for family?” Tina mumbles, wiping her stained apron tiredly

“Too long, I don’t mind fixin’ it up” You stretch out your arms, unbuttoning your chef's coat and folding it neatly, despite Sugar throwing them into the sink to soak for the night later.

“I’ll help” Carmen nods to you, doing the same with his apron. His dark crew neck that sticks to him reveals with every button, outlining the indentations of his chest and biceps.

Family usually consists of throwing whatever leftovers from the night's dinner service onto a large plate and proceeding to throw some forks near it. There had been a long trail of food combinations that either delighted the crew or had you throwing your towel in and going to the taco truck nearby.

Today however, the night had gone so well and had distracted you even better. You could at least make up some plates, make ‘em look pretty or whatever else your hands had been trained to do.

The rest of the team move the tables to form one large spanning diner in the middle of the Bear, the scrape of wood against flooring is all that fills the air as you and Carmen work silently. You’re good together, that sort of chemistry that only comes with understanding a person so well you can anticipate their next move. And the night feels like a dance again, moving left and right, handing him pieces of chicken and spoonfuls of sauce, wiping plates clean and centering them right.

It’s only when Richie comes tumbling through the double doors does it cause Carmen to jump, spilling the ladle of hot gravy across your shirt. You wince, Carmen lets out a garbled grunt and Richie cringes.

Carmen is quick, reaching for a nearby cloth as he begins to lift up your shirt gingerly. The sauce isn't boiling, but there is a slight stinging heat that radiates across your midsection and you're too distracted and uncomfortable that you forget yourself, and let Carmen reveal you.

It takes Carmen a second, he's pulling your shirt up just below your underbra, and his fingers pause against the fabric.

You’re confused just for a moment, but it stretches out, and you let yourself sit in the fantasy of unknowing, you let yourself imagine a life where what was sprawled across your skin was just the remnants of a soggy shirt and irritated skin.

The truth of it hits you when you watch Carmen's face change in front of you.

“What the fuck?”

“Don’t-”

“What?” Richie calls, coming closer before throwing his head back

“Jesus fuckin' christ kid” 

“I-I we got into a fight-“

“A fight? He beat you!”

“You don’t understand-”

“Maybe I don’t but this-“ Carmen gestures to the welts and colours that paint your stomach “Is one of the worst things I’ve seen in a long time”

Carmen’s hands are still gripping your shirt, the rag dropped to the floor between you now as you lower your head and let your hair cover your eyes.

“I’m sorry-“ You croak out, tongue heavy and eyes blurring with tears.

“Sorry-?” Carmen circuses down to meet your eyes incredulously “You’re sorry? Why are you fucking sorry, look what he fucking did to you!- what has he done to you?”

“Hey hey, honey you need to tell us what happened. This isn’t right, no fight can justify this” Richie whispers, crouching near you as he watches Carmen carefully.

“It was an accident”

“Do you truly believe that?” Richie murmurs softly, and you look up with a furrow of your brow. 

You turn to Carmen whose face is twisted in anger, his eyes on your midsection, his hands around your sides and around you.

“I don’t know anymore..I’m just so tired” You whimper, your throat growing tight as Carmen’s brows furrow, blinking and grinding his jaw

“I’m going to fucking kill him-“

“Hey, Carmen wait just- wait” Richie is quick to reach Carmen as he rears back

“Look at her- he can’t-FUCK”

“I know, and we will. I want to break his goddamn legs but we got to think of her. We need to get her out of this, we need to think about her first”

Carmen closes his eyes as you watch their interaction, and he turns to you as you blink the tears that drop down your cheek. He frowns and waits for your approval and you nod, and Richie lets go of him and he gathers you in his arms and lets you cry the last of your resolve on his shoulder.

You don’t tell him anything, and he doesn’t ask. He lets you wet his shoulder as the silence that sits in the kitchen is consumed by your muffled cries instead. 

The commotion causes the rest of the team to flood in, putting the pieces together when they see your shoulders shaking with grief and your unbuttoned top. The bear hung with the sick reality of a beat woman, and the once hungry crew now felt the nauseous image in front of them fill their stomach.

Sydney is the one that eases you out of Carmen’s arms, and pulls your hair back as she whispers apologies into your ear. She takes you to the emergency room to make sure nothing is broken. When the nurses greet you by name she waits until you're in the examination room before sobbing into Tina’s arms.

“How did I not notice, I see her every goddamn day, how did I not notice he was hurting her?”

“Don’t do that, don’t blame yourself. There is only one person to blame”

The rest of the team follows, and they all sprawl across the waiting room, heads between their hands.

After one of the junior doctors gives you the all clear, and Carmen and Richie follow up on the police report you make your way down the linoleum hallway in the crumbled stained shirt that had started this all.

You blink as you watch the faces of everyone you love look up in worry, exhaustion is written into their bones and still they sit in the too small waiting chairs for you. You had never felt a love like that before, so profound and overwhelming clear and you breathe it in deeply like it's the last thing you’ll taste.

“I’m so sorry-”

“Don’t you fuckin dare-”

“I know, I know, just please hear me.”

They relent, and you wait until they all nod towards you before continuing

“You guys have taken me as your own, made me feel a part of something greater than myself.  I don’t want you to think I was unloved” Your voice heightens with the wet tears that fill your throat

“Every single time I came through those doors I felt it okay? I never understood the power of it, of love, but I feel it now and I felt it then. It just got muddled in the middle of all of this, of all the things I keep hidden. And that is my fault, but you guys, the Bear? You guys kept me alive” You whisper the last part, your voice caught in your throat as you try to still the shake your hands.

“You did nothing wrong baby, nothing. It’s hard to leave isn’t it? It’s hard to even say it” Ebra is the first one to whisper, holding your hands gently and carefully. You look at him, as his eyes gleam with the heaviness of his past and you don’t quite understand how, but you believe he knows that well. 

“We’re your family, whatever it is that you're dealing with we shoulder it to, we carry that burden. That is what we're here for, and you can take all the time that you need. Let us help you, but you know what happens now, yes?” Richie murmurs

“I need to get out”

“Damn fucking right you do. And fast, I know it's going to be hard but you need to act like everything is normal. Get in, pack a bag and get out.”

You breathe in deeply, remembering all the half packed duffle bags that had been left near the door. This time you wouldn't be able to back out, this time Carmen would make sure of it.

“Where’s Carmen?” You suddenly say, and Richie shifts his gaze to the exit sign.

“Maybe give him a few moments Kid” Richie murmurs, but you ignore him, moving quickly towards and out of the doors into the smoking area in the alleyway.

You spot him hunched over, back against the stone wall, trails of grey smoke filters from his mouth as you tsk loudly when you near him.

He raises his head up, widening his eyes before looking down at the cigarette.

“You were doing so good” You smile softly

“Yeah? Felt like pulling teeth, not grabbing for one every couple hours.”

“But those chewing gums”

Carmen shakes his head “Don’t tell Rich, but they were fucking disgusting”

You let out a hearty laugh, leaning back on the wall beside him.

Carmen takes one last deep drag, before pressing the butt of the stick into the wall that isn't near you.

It’s silent, and you feel him watching you for a long time before his voice replies in a croaky tear filled tone you had never heard come out of his mouth before.

“Goddamn it kid”

“I know” You reply instantly, the tears that you thought had left you were big fat liars.

“I want to blame myself, I will for a long time but this isn’t about me is it”

You shake your head furiously, it was so far apart from him. 

“What can I do? What can I do to make it better?” Carmen whispers, turning to face you fully now, eyes red and blonde curls messy across his brows.

“It’s not something you can fix Carm, you just got to let me do it. Let me walk away completely”

Carmen grits his teeth, “I should’ve made more attention-”

“How? Between renovating the Bear, organising the menu, fucking opening and maintaining the dinner service every night?”

Carmen shakes his head and you tug at his arm gently

“I didn’t let you notice Carm, I hid it well sometimes I even forgot about it. The bear, you? You let me forget, you let me feel so safe I forgot what he was doing to me”

Carmen reaches for your hand, holding onto it gently 

You shake your head, shaking the tears along with it. You hadn’t so much as let yourself hear the truth of what had been happening, but it flowed out of your mouth like a river into Carmen.

“He got drunk one night” You whisper, biting your cheek as you bristle at the memory of it

“He got drunk one night, and started accusing me of these horrible things. Things I would never do. And when I tried talking to him he just turned to me with this look in his eyes, and it was so unlike him Carm. It was like someone else had come and taken his body, and his voice and his mouth”

“And when I reached for him he reached back. And then I suppose I got used to being afraid of him”

“I don’t know what changed that night, but it did. Or maybe he had always been that way and I had been to blind by the feeling of being wanted that I ignored it. But it got worse, he hit me, but he started controlling what I was doing. Always flinging my phone in my face so that he could look for something that wasn’t there, eyes always scrutinising me when I came home fucking exhausted from the Bear.”

“That was how it started, and I guess it never quite ended” You murmur, and when Carmen drags his thumb across your cheek, you understand the rage that he had kept covered for you.

“I’m going to hurt him. And that's more for me than it is for you, I know it and I don’t care. He doesn't get to walk away.” Carmen replies after a beat, and his voice is even. You can see his anger from before slipping into the darkness of his pupils, but his voice is clear and devoid.

“I know” You murmur

“And you’re going to stay with me till we get you a place. Tina and Syd offered and well the whole team, but I can’t-”

“I know, you can’t put them in danger”

“No. I can’t let it happen, you being alone, him somehow getting to you. You being hurt again-” Carmen shakes his head, grinding his jaw as he cuts his eyes away.

“Okay” You mumble, suddenly feeling the exhaustion of your secret that had weighed you down every day fall away.

The month after had passed quicker than any other time in your life. And for that you were grateful. You had packed a bag and moved into Carmen's apartment that night, and he and Richie had made good on their promise. They watched, as well as the rest of the Bear with a sneer as your fiance was carried into the police station, and you watched the mirror of your injuries multiplied across his face. 

The police had been slow in taking action, even you know this, so you suppose their tight lipped expressions at the beaten man they found in your trashed apartment made up for that.

Carmen slept near the door for the first two weeks, a bat in his hand and his notebook of recipes filled with scribbled annotations. Tossing and turning enough times, made you wrap your blanket around yourself and join him by the door. You would wake up some nights, in a sweat from the terror of your nightmare imagining him somehow finding you, and you would join him those times as well.

The truth of all that had happened still had not yet been told, and you doubt that it ever will. But you were okay with that, and Carmen was too. And so when your fiance had been tried and sentenced, and the promise of broken bones hung over him even years after, Carmen had made no mention of finding you a place. 

And so you stayed, and made a home for yourself. Let your shoes get muddled and clutter the hallway, have your toothbrush besides his own. Move in the last pieces of yourself that had been left in that prison to a place that could maybe change them.

You spent Thursdays with Richie, he’d wait at the foyer for you and he'd take you out for lunch like clockwork. Divulging in your week as he did his, he let you steal some of his cigarettes and you let him ramble to you. Richie had surprised you, when all was said and done. He had known what to do, knew how to talk to you, and you think you credit him to a lot of where you were now. You suppose he blames himself a little as well, so you don’t mind that Thursdays were his way of checking up on you.

You let the team act the same way, Tina bringing you plates of food and tupper wares of lasagna till Carmen's fridge was hard to open, Sydney calling every day, Ebra and Marcus making sure you had someone who could walk you home if Carmen had to stay back. And when you had finally had enough, they nodded and backed away and let you out of their grip.

You're crouched in the fire escape of Carmen's building, passing a bottle of wine that you had snuck from service. 

“I visited him today”

“What?” Carmen replies, knowing immediately who you were talking about.

You shrug your shoulders, “I was too much of a mess to confront him, and the court proceedings left me too numb to even face him. But I went today, and I told him. What he had done, how he had changed.”

“But then he laughed and I punched him in his goddamn mouth”

“Atta girl” Carmen grins, his smile filling up the entire bottom of his face.

“So I can’t ever come back to the Boston Corrections facility, and boy am I glad. You know what this means though right?”

“Hm?” Carmen mumbles with a mouthful of street tacos

“You can’t ever get yourself thrown in prison” You chide, and you smile when he throws his head back in laughter

“Seriously Carm?” You bemoan, resting against the living room entryway

“Yes, the bed is strictly meant for you. What do you take me for? Letting a woman sleep on the couch” Carmen gruffs, carefully placing the duvet over the couch cushions.

“It’s been nearly a year since I’ve moved in, Carmen. I don’t think it's ridiculous to assume we can share a bed together”

Carmen grinds his jaw, swallowing back grunt at the thought of sharing a bed with you. As if it was no big thing, as if Carmen would be able to sleep with you next to him.

“It’s called being a host”

“I signed the lease 2 months ago, we’re technically de-facto” You raise your eyebrows, folding your hands across your chest

“The only time I’ll let the government decide what we are is when-if I put a ring on that finger” Carmen replies, the little slip causing him to cut his eyes from you and back to the duvet that was already folded.

You shake your head with a laugh “This you’re way of proposing Carm? Take a girl out for dinner first”

Carmen mumbles under his breath, flattening the duvet with his inked hands before his phone buzzes

“Goddamnit, that’s Richie. 

“Leave that sofa and let's go down to meet our friends and have a nice time. God knows we’ve earned more than a few drinks at Nick’s” You reply, swiping Carmen’s phone

“Hey!”

“You weren’t even going to answer him” You roll your eyes.

You send Richie a text that was all apologetic and none grammatically correct as you shuffle out of your work pants into some jeans. 

The team was already at the bear, halfway through the first round of drinks and you’d be damned if you let Carmen make the both of you late.

Carmen is in jeans as well, and the white shirt he always dons fits around his chest tightly. You can lie to yourself most days, but in times like this, where you both live in this domestic bubble your mind wanders.

You don’t let it too much.

But when you're visiting family, and you pass by the Louisiana welcome sign planted in the roadway, and the weather gets warm and the nights stretch out you let yourself think of him. You let yourself imagine a life where he was entwined, in you, your life, your days while you drink on the porch of your family home.

The thought of being in anything new scares you to no end, your past finds you in moments you least expect and dredges you down to the same feeling you felt when you were with him.

But Carmen was your past too wasn’t he? He was muddled and interlinked with all the memories that make your chest ache and your hands shake. Carmen didn’t feel new..you had already been living with each other for a year now, and you suppose the way you both flow into each other's lives was no different.

You’d be together, in the way you had always been but different also. You’d get to grow familiar of the taste of him, you’d get to feel him under your skin, beneath your fingers, and he’d sleep in that fucking bed for the first time in a year.

Then the sun would dip below the horizon, the sounds of the insects and birds would come back to you, and the creeping shadow of guilt and insecurity would remind you of who you were again. 

You’d taste the bitter embarrassment of forcing Carmen to be that way with you, throwing your head back as you gulp down the beer in your hand as you try to stave away the taste. The dream disappears each time from you, like the oranges and reds that paint the Louisiana sky every evening.

“Hey, we going or what?” Carmen says, his eyes narrowing at, you noticing the way your eyes glaze over.

“Yeah, yes” You nod, swallowing the thoughts of him quickly as you finish tying your boots and let Carmen lock the door behind you. 

The bar is surprisingly crowded on a Tuesday night, and you have to squeeze past crowds of leather wearing bikers before finally seeing the team seated in a long booth at the back.

“Finally!” Richie yells, hands in the air and his beer swishing out of the neck.

“We were about to send a search party” Tina smiles, looking toward you with a glint in her eyes when she notices Carmen’s arm at your back.

“Aren’t you guys like, a 2 minute walk from this place? Fak got here before you” Marcus replied, his old fashioned nursed in your arms.

“I had no involvement in our tardiness, he was too busy fixing his makeshift couch bed”

“Oh don’t tell me your still sleeping on that” Richie’s eyes widen

“You know that ain’t even a good couch right? We found it on the side of the road-“ 

“It’s not good for your back Carmen, all those cushions” Ebra shakes his head disapprovingly.

“It’s perfectly fine Ebra, and who would I be if I let a woman sleep on the couch?” Carmen grumbles, as both slide into the booth next to Sydney.

“I mean, there is an easy straightforward solution” Sydney murmurs, and everyone turns to her quickly.

“You could both just sleep in the same bed together” She replies, after looking at everyone dumbfounded.

“Only married people share a bed, that’s Sicilian tradition”

“Yeah, mixing work and personal life isn’t-“

“Mixing? They already live together!” Sydney replies, defensively.

“Wouldn’t be surprised if they’re already” Four murmured, before snapping his mouth closed when Carmen narrows his eyes to him.

“It’s not about fucking tradition, or whatever. I’m not gonna put her-you in that situation and make you uncomfortable”

“Why would you make me uncomfortable?” You murmur without thinking, and the booth goes quiet.

Carmen shakes his head, blinking as you remain quiet.

You wince at the silence, maneuvering your body quickly out of the booth as you almost fall out.

“Uh-I’m going to get a drink” You reply quickly 

Carmen's body isn’t fast enough for his legs and he stands up from his position on the booth quickly, almost tumbling over.

 “I’ll come with you”

You shake your head, forcing a tight smile as you wave him off.

“It’s okay, I know your order” You reply quickly, turning around without seeing the look on Carmen’s face.

You slide into one of the vacant barstools, signalling to the bartender as they make the rounds across the counter.

The rows of silver bracelets that hang around the bartender's wrists cling as they mix and shake drinks, and you let yourself get lost in the glittering light show of them reflecting off the bar lights. They distract you enough to not notice the man that now leers over you.

You flinch when you feel his hand touch your shoulder, and when you turn expecting one of the guys from the Bear you're taken back when you're met with a five o clock shadow and a stink of vodka.

“What's a girl like you doin’ all alone?” 

“I’m good” You grit out from between your teeth

“Oh c’mon, you girls love to play hard but what you really need-”

“I said leave me alone asswhole” You spit, roughly moving his latched fingers from your shoulder. 

The man sneers, his voice growing louder and sloppy as he begins to swear at you. His hands find their way to your waist, and the shiver of disgust turns into a familiar sharp pain as you shout out.

“You fucking bitch” The man starts, before you see the flash of dirty blonde curls cover your vision and the feeling of his fingers around you is wrenched off.

Carmen’s hands are around his neck, and he slams him into the wooden floors of the Bar with ease. He holds him there before turning to look up at you, his eyes blown out and his eyebrows furrowed behind his curls. Your chest heaves as you meet his gaze, and you watch as his eyes trail down your body, almost surveying the extent of your injuries and filing it into his mind so that it is all he thinks about when he breaks the skin across his knuckles.

You watch Carmen work, watch the way his shoulders and back contorts under every movement that lands a punch into the man's face. The buzzing chatter of the bar increases, as people begin to take notice of the shouts of frazzled swears and slobby slurs that leave the man's mouth. Someone screams there is a fight, and the bartender mutters obscenities as they try to push through the crowd.

Carmen lands punch after punch into his face, with no real sense of stopping as his movements grow more and more crazed with every crack of skin and dribble of blood that paints his hands. Carmen's eyes look determined, like he had a goal to all of this, and when Richie and the rest of the team pushes past the crowd and shouts out to him to stop, he looks up at you do you know.

You didn’t get to see what he had done to your husband, or how. But now, he takes his time with the man under him who kicks and fails, blubbering out blood and drool. He continues to stare at you, and the rest of the patrons look on in horror as the man under Carmen becomes disguised by the brutality of Carmens fists across his body. You hear the crack of bone, and when the man screams out a loose and garbled apology from the swollen tongue of his mouth, does Carmen flick his eyes down to him.

“You’re sorry? Yeah?” Carmen murmurs, softly

The man nods eagerly, his mouth filling with blood and his eyes swollen

“I’m not sure I believe that” Carmen replies, sending his foot into the mans stomach as he keels over

“Okay, Carmen that's enough” Richie calls out

“All I did was ask her a question!” The man screams out, his words jagged and unclear

“Hey, you shut the fuck up” Richie replies, before clocking his head to try and meet Carmens gaze who is back on you

“Look man, I get it. That one time wasn’t enough, but you can’t keep doing this”

Carmen grinds his teeth, as you look on in awe as his knuckles bleed violently, throwing his arm up and swinging down onto the man.

You got what you needed from this, and so when you step closer to Carmen and turn your head to the side you can only think of one thing

“I’m banned for at least 12 months” 

You watch his fingers loosen around the man's bloody shirt, and Carmen wipes his hands across the man's chest before slowly straightening up from his crouched position.

“Get the fuck out, the both of you before the cops get here” The bartender grits out, shaking his head.

Carmen nods, “I’m not fucking sorry”

“Yeah yeah I know” The bartender rolls his eyes, before you grab Carmen's arm and push through the gawking faces of onlookers

You find a door leading out to a side alleyway, and you both fall out from the door into a combined heap.

“I had to do it okay? The way he was looking at you and that fucking hand around your side I couldn’t just let him-“ Carmen starts, chest heaving up and down and the splatter of spit and blood across his jaw

You don’t let him finish the rushed words that fall out of his mouth before you cover it with your own. Gripping onto the loose collar of his shirt, you drink down the anger and violence that had been festering on the both of you.

Carmen tastes sweet, like the cranberry jus he had been preparing, and rough too, like his worn workmen jacket and the pepper taste of his nicotine gum.

You realise then that you would never taste something as great as that, and that you would be chasing the feeling of how Carmen’s lips against your own vibrates through you from head to foot.

You pull away with quickness, chest heaving and eyes wide as you feel Carmen’s mouth warm your chest.

Carmen doesn’t blink, he stares at you, the brittle Chicago winter blowing his hair across his forehead and the distant sound of sirens and he stares at you.

“I’m not sorry” You whisper, pressing your lips together

“Good” Carmen replies before you’ve even uttered the last word.

And when you blink the cold smoke of his breath is over you again, his inked fingers cradle your head and he takes your mouth again.

You don’t stop the crash of your open mouths and dipping tongues until the warmth of Carmen covers you entirely, until November in Chicago feels like July.

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