#wild that i don't feel more anxiety about this i'm just like

[heartsdefine]

gonna try to do some writing this weekend since i'm not sure when i'll have the time/energy combo again once the semester starts lmao.

[nicksolemnlyswears]

THE BEAR AND THE BEE HIVE

summary: in which carmy falls for the sweet café owner that supplies him with endless americanos

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

word count: 14.4k

warning: it's a little bit of a slow burn. sorry. i'm a sucker for it and i feel like carmy is a slow burn kinda guy. 18 +, cursing, smut, p in v, oral (m. receiving), fingering, they use protection guys! i deserve a pat in the back. nothing too wild. oh, and very brief mention of suicide.

a/n: i started writing this way back in october and then it was nearly done and i abandoned it. well i finally got around to completing it tonight!

this is my first time ever writing for carmy and i tried my best writing this. i love carmy and the show but i didn’t expect it to be hard to write him as a character. i wanted to get him right so i took my time with it and didn’t rush it. hopefully you guys like my carmy. enjoy!

i think i've had this stored in my drafts for like 4 months and it's time for me to set it free.

The cigarettes were not enough anymore. No matter how many smoke breaks Carmy took, he still felt the edge on his shoulders. A fear laced with anxiety that overtook him.

After deciding that blowing through yet another wall in his restaurant was the way to go, Carmy took a break. He needed it before he used the sledgehammer to destroy the restaurant in its entirety, along with his dream.

He remembers a coffee shop only a block away from The Bear and thinks he could use a coffee right about now. Maybe the mixture of caffeine and nicotine will be able to relax his shoulders, if only for an hour.

As soon as he opens the door, the smell of ground coffee beans greets him. He looks around, taking in the cozy ambiance the decorative wood brings to the place and the splashes of warm yellow that lighten it up.

Then he sees you, and his focus shifts entirely. His eyes only see you.

"Hi, welcome to Bee Hive!" You chirp with a small smile.

Carmy freezes, forgetting why he's there in the first place. He slowly steps up to the register, where you patiently wait for him. It's just after the lunch rush, so you're in no hurry.

He finds he's acting like a teenager who has just seen a pretty girl. Only he's not a teenager, and you're more than a pretty girl.

"What can I get for you today?" You ask, not noticing the effect you've had on him. You take a sharpie out of your yellow apron, preparing to scribble down his order in a cup.

Carmy has perfected the empty on the outside but screaming on the inside face. Strangers don't tend to know he's almost always losing his shit.

"I-I don't…sorry," Carmy looks at you briefly before diverting his eyes. He apologizes in a flurry, looking for an excuse for his weird behavior, "Uh, it's my first time here. What do you recommend?"

"It's not a problem," you say softly as if to calm him, "I'm a simple girl. I love the latte, but if you're looking for something stronger, the americano is one of the favorites."

Carmy nods as you ramble about the drinks, where the coffee beans come from, and the different notes of each blend. He hangs onto every word that slips from your lips. The static in his brain clearing up for the first time in hours.

It ends too soon as you realize you're talking too much and probably overwhelmed him. You sheepishly smile at him and trail off, but he continues to stare, waiting for you to continue.

"I'll take the Americano," Carmy nods, giving you a tight-lipped smile. Although he had been hanging to every one of your words, he was too focused on the shape of your lips and the sweet tone of your voice.

"Good choice," you nod, grabbing a cup from the tray beside you, "What's your name?"

Carmy looks up, slightly alarmed, as if you've asked for his social security number. "What?" He thinks you'll be forward and ask for his number next, seemingly forgetting how coffee orders work.

"Your name? For the order?" You explain, trying to ease his worries. He's odd, but in an endearing way. You believe this is his first time here because you're confident you would've remembered him.

"Fuck, right, yeah," he nervously says, pinching the bridge of his nose, "My name's Carmen."

"Your Americano will be right out, Carmen," you tell him, capping your sharpie back up.

Carmy quickly pays and stands to the side to wait for his order. He forces himself to not look at you or in your direction as you take other customers' orders. He just knows he's made a fool of himself already. Not that it matters. Why would it matter? He's there for the coffee. Nothing else, no one else.

As he walks out of Bee Hive, he sips his coffee. His shoulders instantly drop, and his fear-induced anxiety starts to dissipate for the moment. He's unsure if the effect is because of the caffeine or the thoughts of your pretty smile.

Visiting your coffee shop becomes routine for Carmy. Whenever things at The Bear become crazy -or he starts to lose his fuckin' mind- he makes his way to Bee Hive with a cigarette hanging from his lips.

For twenty minutes, he's free of Richie's constant hounding, Sugar's struggles with the permits and scheduling, and Sydney's disappointment because the menu is still extremely underway.

Each time he's stopped by, you've been there to greet him, and each time, you've left a little heart by Carmen's name, which makes his heart race in a peculiar way. His hands would touch his chest to check if it was heartburn, but it didn't feel like that. It's not anxiety either cause he knows pretty well how that feels.

All he knows is he hasn't done anything to deserve such a gesture. He's convinced himself you draw little hearts for everyone because he's not special.

One Thursday afternoon, Carmy realizes he doesn't know your name. He looks for a name tag, but you're not wearing one on your yellow apron. He should know your name if you insist on making small talk despite his short answers.

He can't help it. He gets too in his head to answer like a normal person, so his answers come out choppy and dry.

"Alright, Carmen, your order will be right out," you say, handing his cup to one of the baristas. You always hold out and ask him what he wants to order. He has the right to change his mind anytime, but for now, he's stuck with the americano, which he drowns in sugar.

As curiosity eats at him, he gathers the courage to ask. "Thanks. Hey, uh, I've-I’ve never gotten your name…” Carmy says, cursing at himself for not formulating the question correctly. His hand comes up to grip his hair instinctually.

Your smile widens when he asks your name. The silly crush you've developed for your customer fluttering to life. It's just a crush over a stranger, nothing to write home about.

You tell him your name but follow it with "-call me Honey. Everyone knows me by that name. I'm sure if you ask my friends about me with my real name, you'll throw them for a loop."

You're rambling, hoping he doesn't think calling you by your nickname is weird. Then again, how can he judge when he has a sister people call 'Sugar' and he and his siblings also don the nickname 'Bear.'

"Honey." Carmy repeats your nickname, smiling as he finds it fitting. "In that case, call me Carmy."

"Nice to properly meet you, Carmy," you say, grinning.

Like all the days before, Carmy steps aside and waits for his coffee. He doesn't let himself continue the conversation or ask more about you even if it’s everything he wants to do.

It's rare for Carmy to be in a good mood, and whenever it happens, it doesn't tend to last. His goal of opening a restaurant in 12 weeks makes it impossible for him to relax and enjoy the ride. To prolong this unusual feeling, Carmy stops by Bee Hive on his way to The Bear.

"Have you made your boss angry, Honey?" He asks as he pulls out his wallet to pay. He ordered the americano as he always does.

"No…why do you ask?" You ask, tilting your head in confusion.

"Uh, 'cause you-you're always here. Do you not take days off? Not that I'm complaining. I-I like seeing you here." Carmy's words get quieter as he speaks, red creeping up his neck. So much for trying to make a joke.

You look around the room and tell him, "Imma let you in on a little secret."

Carmy follows your hand, waving him to get closer. The smell of cigarettes invades your senses as you get close to him. You'd never admit that the mix of his cigarettes and your coffee is addicting. As both lean over the counter, you whisper, "I'm the boss. I can't run away even if I wanted to."

"You own the coffee shop," Carmy pans in shock.

Carmy is more than surprised at your words. Especially now that he knows how expensive it is to open a business. You can't be a day over 25 and own a successful coffee place. There is hope, after all.

"I do," you nod, standing straight once more.

A couple of years ago, you had inherited a hefty amount of money from an estranged aunt. Fresh out of college and with no real plan, you thought it would be a good moment to follow your dream and open the cozy café.

"How do you do it?" Carmy asks, amazed at the girl smiling at him. "I don't know if you know, but, um, I-I'm opening the restaurant around the block. Used to be The Beef?" He finishes grimly as he points to his side of the block.

"Oh, yeah. The guys who worked there helped me move some equipment when I first opened two years ago," you reveal, "Tell you what, whenever you have a break, come around. I'll give you a free americano and tell you all about it. Neighbor to neighbor."

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Carmy agrees. "I'll take you up on that."

Weeks go by, and Carmy seemingly forgets about Bee Hive and your pending conversation. You try not to overthink about his absence or how you might've scared him away. He's probably just busy remodeling his restaurant. You know better than anyone how much time that takes.

Still, his presence has become part of your routine, and you can't help but look at the door each time the bell rings. You expect to see him walking up to the counter, the remnants of cigarette smoke coming out his nose as he breathes.

You're pretty close to your assumption because Carmy has been dealing with the fire suppression test. They didn't fail the test once but twice, and if they didn't pass it on the third try, their plan to open the restaurant in 12 weeks goes out the window. Fak has tried everything, and nothing works.

He'd sent Richie once on a coffee run, but the fuckin' idiot went to the nearest Starbucks. Carmy had been looking forward to tasting your coffee and seeing his name in the cup with the little heart because he's 100% sure he's the only Carmen you know. It's not a common name in these parts of town.

One very early morning, he's walking to work, and as he passes Bee Hive, he sees you inside, wiping tables down before you open at 6:30.

Impulsively, he knocks on the glass, not giving himself the time to overthink things. You turn to look at the window and see him standing outside, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his familiar plaid jacket to protect himself from the chilly March air.

"Hey stranger," you greet him, opening the door and inviting him in.

"Hi," he breathes out, staring at you, "you're here early," he tries to casually mention.

You roll your eyes dramatically and say, "It's a downside of the job. Did you know people want coffee at the crack of dawn?"

You try acting as nonchalant as possible. It's not like you missed seeing one of your favorite customers, his beautiful blue eyes, or the way he rocks a simple white t-shirt.

"I had no idea," Carmy smiles, bringing his tattooed hand up to his lips, "I, uh, usually drink mine at night." That much is true. On those sleepless nights when insomnia takes over him, the best remedy is coffee.

"Would you make an exception and join me for a morning coffee at the crack ass of dawn?" Anxiously, you play with the rings on your fingers. It feels like you're asking the guy on a date when it's just a friendly coffee.

"As long as you have some business advice to spare?" Carmy responds shakily. He briefly looks down the street to glimpse at his restaurant. It's too early for anyone to be there yet.

"Deal."

Throwing the towel over your shoulder, you make your way behind the counter. Carmy attempts to make small talk with you as you prepare both drinks.

This is the first time he's watching you in action since you tend to stick to the cash register when he's around. It's not a coincidence. After the first time he came to Bee Hive, you wanted to see more of him, so you stationed yourself at the register where you'd be sure to see him, and he'd see you.

"Here you go." You place his coffee mug on the table along with yours before disappearing momentarily and returning with an orange soufflé coffee cake. You're pulling all the stops for Carmy to leave a good impression.

Carmy thanks you and sips his coffee, "Wow, this is fire!" He expected to taste an americano, but what you prepared was entirely different. He can make out hints of hazelnut and caramel in the coffee.

"Thanks. I took the liberty of changing your order. You can always come back to the americano, though…" you shrug shyly, looking at him over the rim of your mug.

"I-I appreciate it. Thanks." Carmy throws you a nervous grin. He gestures with his tattooed hand to dig into the cake you brought out. He shouldn't be the only one eating.

You and Carmy share the cake as you talk about yourselves and the crazy businesses you own. Somehow, talking to you comes easy to him. He's still nervous and scared to fuck things up, but the warm coffee and your even warmer smile ease him into it.

"How do you do it? This place is always packed, and you seem like you run a tight ship," Carmy wonders, playing with the fork. The cake is long gone, although the notes of orange remain on his tongue. Would you taste the same?

"It wasn't without mistakes. I had to learn a lot from my fuck ups and listen to my team because although I'm the owner, they are the ones doing most of the work. Whenever there's a flaw, they are the first to know," you speak softly, afraid of ruining the calm ambiance you've set up, twirling the small amount of coffee left in your mug.

It's your favorite part of morning coffee. When you have just the smallest bit of coffee left, and you know you'll never drink it because it's cold, but it gives you an excuse to remain where you are.

"So, all I gotta do is listen?" It's funny you say that because Carmy listens, but his friend's voices get muddled somewhere along the way. As much as he tries to focus on them, they merge together and form a cacophony in his head.

"A lot of listening and a lot of experimentation. I've been open for two years, and it's only been in the last six months that I can confidently tell you we found our groove," you admit with a grimace.

Bee Hive is your baby, but bringing it to life was everything but easy. You messed up so many times, costing you so much money. You didn't know shit about owning a business or building one from the ground up. Doing research and putting your pride aside to ask for help got you through it.

"I've only been doing this for, like, less than a fuckin' year, and I already want to pull my hair out," Carmy admits with a pitiful laugh.

"I'm sorry I can't tell you it gets better soon," you say apologetically, reaching for his hand that rests on the table.

Carmy freezes, glancing at your hand on top of his. He hasn't got a clue what to fucking do with the display of affection. Was it a display of affection? He doesn't fucking know. "It's, uh, it's, uh, it's alright. As-as long as you give me coffee, I think I can make it through," Carmen furrows his eyebrows as he stutters through the sentence.

"I can't wait to see what the award-winning chef does," you say, bringing your hand back to your lap, none the wiser to Carmy's internal struggle.

He should've done something to keep your hand on his. Place his other hand on yours or fucking turn his hand around to grasp it. He liked feeling your warm skin on his. It hasn't been a minute since you pulled away, and he's craving it already. It's ridiculous. Is he really that touch-starved that he's seeking affection from a near stranger?

He coughs and darts his eyes between the wooden table top and you, "Fuck. You-you know about that?"

"I might've done some research after finding out you're opening the restaurant. I got curious. I'm sorry." Apologizing is your default thing to do. Messing things up is your area of expertise. You really didn't think he'd mind you mentioning it.

"No, no, no, uh, you don't have to apologize. You just caught me off guard," Carmy shakes his head, reassuring both of you.

"Okay, good," you lightly smile at him, averting your eyes when your gazes meet.

If there's a time for you to make a move, it's now. Taking a shaky breath, you speak up, "I was wondering if you'd ever like to-."

A loud knock on the glass door interrupts you. You and Carmy jump and look towards the source of the noise. It's one of your regular clients, waving at you to open up. Looking at your watch, you see it's 6:30 already.

"Shit. I'm-I'm sorry I took so much of your time," Carmy apologizes, picking up his mug and the plate to put away.

You grab his wrist to make him stop in his tracks, "Relax. I enjoyed talking to you. Maybe we can do it again soon?"

Carmy nods wide-eyed. He likes the idea just as much as you do. You take away the mug and plate with a soft 'okay.' He then follows you to the door as you unlock it and turn the sign to 'open.'

"I, um, gotta go work on the menu. I'll probably be back later for another coffee?" Carmen asks you as if he's asking for permission, which you find adorable.

"I'll be behind the register," you say, watching him walk away. He turns his head back for a moment, and you catch the smile gracing his lips as yours turns to mimic him.

"Oh, he's cute," your customer, an older lady, says, watching him go along with you. "It's about time you got a boyfriend."

"Mrs. O'Hara, here for your tea?" You ask her, ignoring the comment about your love life. That woman will set you up with anyone. She does love her tea, though, and expects you to provide it on time.

It's slow, but Carmen warms up to you. Instead of grabbing his coffee to go, he now drinks it at the café, coincidentally around the same time you take your break.

He's been hesitantly opening up. It's not like he's telling you about how fucked up his family is or how his brother committed suicide. More often, it's about the restaurant and his work as a chef, the struggles of getting every permit they need on a tight schedule since they are supposed to open in about four weeks now, or the occasional childhood memory. It's everything you need to know at this stage.

You love listening to Carmy talk, even if you have to coax it out of him sometimes. He's passionate about the restaurant despite all the stress that comes from it, and he adores the people he works with. He's shy but not in a dorky way because he's actually fascinating. Before meeting him, you never knew that collecting denim was a thing.

The smell of cigarettes that clings to him is also tightly laced with his character. When you step outside to get some sun and the scent of someone smoking hits you, your heart instantly speeds up, hoping it's him coming for his daily americano, or to come swoop you away into a sunset.

"-I fell on my ass in the middle of the street. I was freaking out, thinking I was gonna get run over by a car," you exclaim as you tell Carmy about the crazy Christmas you spent in New York last year.

"It's New York. You probably would have been run over," Carmy chuckles along with you. "There was this one time I was running late and-" His phone vibrating interrupts him.

"Sorry, it's just the fridge guy," he tells you with a furrow of his eyebrows. You notice he does that a lot when he's thinking deeply. Carmy silences it and looks back over to you.

"You should pick that up. A busted fridge is the last thing you need. Trust me. Been there, done that." You encourage him to take the call. The restaurant is more important than your story about how you bruised your coccyx in New York.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Carm! Call him back before you forget," you insist, grabbing his empty cup to trash it. You don't give him any other option, leaving him there to help your employees with a faulty machine.

He watches you closely, closer than ever before. He allows himself to watch how you frown at the machine and how your ringed fingers fumble with the knobs. His eyes keep trailing down involuntarily, and they take in how nicely your jeans hug your ass.

He goes into a spiral into these old pair of Levi jeans popular in the 90s and how they would fit nicely with the shape of your hips and legs. Carmy continues on the tangent, imagining himself peeling them off your body.

The phone vibrating in his hand snaps him out of it. Clearing his throat, he picks up the phone and walks outside. He waves at you through the window as he makes his way back to The Bear. Your frustration at the machine vanishes momentarily as you wave back, except the machine splatters, forcing you to redirect your attention. When you look outside again, he's gone.

Stakes are high at The Bear. There's less than four weeks until Friends and Family, and there is much to do. Marcus has returned from Copenhagen and is working on the desserts. Tina is doing her job as the new sous chef. Fak and Sweeps are helping out wherever they can. And Richie is being Richie, trying to be open but resisting change.

"I need coffee or a pop. Anything with caffeine," Sydney says, throwing her head back. She and Carmen have been working on the chaos menu for hours, and she keeps messing up. Carmy insists that it's okay that they'll adjust and get it right soon, but she's beginning to lose hope.

"Me too. I'd kill for an espresso," Natalie agrees, softly rubbing her hand over her growing bump.

"I thought you couldn't have caffeine cause of the baby," Richie mentions, remembering Tiff's time while pregnant.

"I don't need you to fuckin' tell me what I can or can't eat, Richie," Natalie yells, glaring at him. Although he's right, the doctor told her to limit her caffeine intake. Hard to do when she's up all night thinking about everything she needs to do for The Bear.

"Shit. I'm sorry for fucking caring," Richie screams back, lifting his hands up in defense.

"I can go to the coffee place down the block. Get everyone something," Carmy pipes up, looking forward to seeing you today.

Natalie is quick to shoot that idea down, "You can't. The fridge guy is coming in 20 minutes."

"Fuck, that's right," Carmy groans, digging his head in his hands. His fingers rake through his hair, messing up his curls. He wanted to see you and talk to you, even if it was for five short minutes.

"I'll go," Sydney sighs. She needs to leave the kitchen for more than five minutes, or she'll go crazy, "Just tell me what you guys want to order."

Natalie grumbles about getting decaf, Richie orders a plain black coffee, and Carmy asks for his americano. As Sydney leaves to ask Marcus, Carmy yells after her, "Please, go to Bee Hive. If you get Starbucks, I'm gonna fucking lose it."

Richie and Natalie exchange a look. Richie because he's confused, and Natalie because she knows something is happening with Carmy. He's never been picky over coffee. In fact, they have an old coffee machine in the office that now goes unused because he's always at that coffee shop.

"Sorry, I didn't get the fuckin' memo. Since when is Starbucks bad?" Richie frowns, looking to get a rise out of Carmy.

"I don't think it's about the coffee, cousin," Natalie responds, directing her gaze towards her brother, who is hunched over the counters, chopping vegetables.

"If it's not about the coffee, what is it about?" Richie questions, crossing his arms.

"Shut the fuck up, Sugar," Carmy grumbles, looking at his sister with a glare. He already knows where she's going. She tried to bring it up a couple of days ago after she walked by the coffee shop and saw him being friendly with you.

Natalie smiles and responds, "Carmy has a crush on the barista."

"That's ridiculous. I don't have a crush on her." Carmy shakes his head, avoiding Richie and Natalie's eyes on him. They always do this. They gang up on him if he shows even the slightest interest in a girl. They think they can help, but all they do is embarrass him.

"Come on, Bear. Why else would you go almost every day to get coffee?" Natalie asks, giving him a look.

"Because it's good fuckin' coffee. Jesus, it's not that deep." Carmy grabs the veggies he chopped and drops them into a container to use later.

"It's okay to admit you like a pretty girl, cousin! I'm excited for you! Makes you human and not a lonely hermit," Richie jokes, pushing on Carmy's buttons. "When was the last time you got laid?"

"I swear to God, Richie. Shut the fuck up," Carmy points at him angrily.

"No, I should go with Sydney and see who this girl is!" Richie says, walking out of the half-built kitchen.

Carmy follows him instantly, "You're not going fuckin' anywhere, fuckin' jagoff." He's turning red from anger, seeing Richie with his mocking smile. Natalie follows behind them, amused at the situation. It reminds her of the banters they used to get in with Mickey.

"Admit that you like her," Richie shrugs, giving him a choice.

"No, I won't," Carmy refuses. "You always do this shit."

"Then, I'm going," Richie nods, stepping towards the door.

"Fuck! Shit, alright. I like her, okay? Don't fucking go anywhere," Carmy yells, rubbing a hand on his face out of frustration. It's like he's not allowed to keep anything good to himself.

"Was that so hard?" Richie grins, clapping a hand on Carmy's shoulder.

"Don't fuckin' touch me," Carmy grumbles, walking back to the kitchen. Natalie follows him with a smile, shaking her head at Richie.

Carmy sighs and squeezes his eyes shut. He has yet to admit that he likes you more than he should. He's been avoiding it, afraid of what it might lead to, or rather, what it might not.

He couldn't let Richie go see you. He has a big fuckin' mouth and will tell you Carmy has a crush on you whether it's true or not. Just like that, he feels the sour taste in his mouth, his heartburn making an appearance. Carmy should go look for his pepto before it gets worse.

Unaware of the argument back at The Bear, Sydney walks to Bee Hive. She's walked past many times but has yet to have the time to stop and try it out.

As she waits in line, she reads over the drinks menu. It's clear that it's been carefully curated. Starbucks has nothing on this menu. She can see why Carmy would prefer to come here instead.

When it's her turn to order, Sydney takes out her phone to recite everyone's drink order. She also points to a few pastries, thinking Marcus would like to try some of them and get inspiration. That and she knows Natalie will enjoy them as well.

You're sitting at a table close to the pickup counter. You often find yourself all over the store, ensuring everything goes smoothly. Sometimes, you stop to talk to your regulars and see how they're doing.

You notice Sydney struggling with all the cups she has to carry. It's proving difficult despite the to-go trays your barista put them in. Deciding to approach her, you ask, "Do you need help?"

"Oh, no. I'm fine, thanks," Sydney responds with a nervous smile. She's trying hard to grab everything, including the box with the pastries.

You continue watching her struggle because you know she needs help. You let her try and figure it out for one more minute before stepping in again when she almost drops two of the drinks, "Need some help now?"

"Yeah," Sydney sighs, "I guess I can leave one of the trays here, go to the restaurant, and come back for the rest," she speaks mostly to herself.

"Are you going far?"

"No, just the restaurant down the block," Sydney responds with a sigh, scratching her eyebrow as she tries to figure out the logistics of carrying the drinks. She could get a box to put everything in.

You perk up at her response. The only restaurant down the block is Carmen's. Could she work there? "Carmy's restaurant?"

"You know Carmy?" Sydney asks, tilting her head. Maybe Nat was right. Carmy spends his time here because of the woman in front of her.

"He comes here often. Anyway, I can go with you to help you out. It's not far, and I'd feel bad if your drinks got cold." You offer to help her out because you're a nice person. Not because you want a chance to see the curly-haired man you are developing feelings for.

"You really don't have to…"

"It's really not a problem," you press, grabbing one of the to-go trays and motioning for her to lead the way.

Sydney sighs in defeat and nods, "Thanks. I'm Sydney, by the way."

"I'm Honey," you smile, following her outside.

You chat all the way to the restaurant with Sydney. She reminds you of Carmy in some ways, so you can see why they are friends. Before arriving at the restaurant, Sydney apologizes in advance for any sort of mess there might be, including yelling.

As you near the building under renovation, your palms start to sweat. Maybe you shouldn't have come. You're showing up unannounced, and he's probably too busy to talk to you anyway. You can slip in and out without him noticing. That's the goal now.

You open the door for Sydney, letting her go through first, and quietly follow her into the restaurant. There's no time to escape, as all eyes are instantly on you.

Richie is arguing with Fak when he sees you walk in. He narrows his eyes as Carmy looks in your direction from the kitchen. With just one glance to Carmy's face, he knows who you're supposed to be.

"Guess I didn't have to go anywhere. She came to me," Richie whispers, rushing out the door.

"Shut the fuck up. Where are you going? Don't embarrass me!" Carmy whispers out to Richie unsuccessfully.

"Oh, you'll do that all by yourself," Richie throws over his shoulder.

"Honey, hey, what-what're you doing here?" Carmy speaks, not giving Richie a chance to open his big mouth. He stands between you and Richie, blocking him for the time being.

"Sydney needed help with the drinks," you answer nervously, averting your eyes.

"Oh, thanks for that. You didn't have to," Carmy approaches you and takes the drinks from your hands. His fingers brush with yours momentarily, causing you both to blush.

"I did, or else you probably wouldn't have anything to drink," you whisper to him.

Sydney, Fak, and Richie all watch the interaction amusedly. Richie has a big teasing grin on his face as he makes a plan in his head.

"Hi, I'm Richie! Carmy's cousin," he introduces himself, shoving Carmy to the side and shaking your hand enthusiastically. "I gotta say Carmen right here is obsessed with your coffee. He's banned us from getting Starbucks."

Carmy curses under his breath as Richie does precisely what he tells him not to. He has the urge to throw the coffee at him and run away.

"Is that right?" You ask, amused, looking over at Carmy with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh yeah," Richie answers for him as Carmy tries to find the right words to say. "Cousin, why don't you give the nice lady a tour of the place?"

"It's not done yet. Could be dangerous," Carmy hopelessly says with a gulp.

"Nonsense! You'll take care of her!" Richie insists. He takes the coffee from Carmy's hands and pushes him in your direction. "Go give her a tour."

Richie, Sydney, and Fak all disappear to the office to stay out of the way and try to snoop simultaneously. Fak sends Carmy a not-so-discreet thumbs-up that makes you giggle.

He's internally screaming at his so-called friends but is glad to see you. It was all he wanted before Sydney left to get their drinks. It's strange having you here at The Bear, though. He's so used to seeing you in your own space back at Bee Hive.

Trying to make things better, you say, "Sorry you've been roped into this. You probably have better things to do. I can go-"

Carmy doesn't let you finish. "No, stay. I want to show you around."

"Let's see what you got then, Berzatto," you grin, following him to the kitchen.

Carmy takes his time showing you The Bear. He wants you to stay. He wants to spend time with you but doesn't really know how to say it. So he takes it slow, answers your questions about the restaurant, shows you the front and how everything will be laid out, and introduces you to the ones around, including the fridge guy working on the handle.

Sadly, you get a call from Bee Hive asking you to come back. Carmy walks you outside, dreading having to say goodbye.

"I'm really excited for The Bear to open. You have a great place and team," you tell Carmy.

"I really got lucky with them, huh?" He asks, playing with a dish towel.

"I gotta go. I'll see you later, Berzatto." You don't know where you got the guts to lean towards him and kiss his cheek.

Carmy stays still as his face heats up. You start walking away and throw him a smile over your shoulder. When you're a distance away, he touches the cheek you kissed. Back inside, Richie runs over to Sugar to tell her what he just witnessed.

It's late when Carmy leaves The Bear. As he walks to the train station, he has his hands stuffed in his jacket pocket. On his way, he sees a lone light turned on in your café. Crossing the street to check it out, he sees you're still there with glasses perched on your nose in front of the computer.

He tries the door, and to his luck, it's open. You look in his direction, startled, but relax once you see it's him.

"Nice glasses," Carmy teases, pulling out a chair to sit.

"Are you making fun of me?" You purse your lips, propping your chin on your palm.

"No, I…I think you look cute with them," Carmy admits. After a stern talk from Sugar and Richie, he's realized he should probably make a proper move on you because if what they say is true, you also have a crush on him.

"Thanks," you blush, the light from your screen making it obvious to Carmy, who can't stop the corners of his lips from turning up into a smile.

"Late night?"

"One of my baristas is moving out of state. I have to find someone new, preferably who has experience," you say with a sigh. Glancing at him, you add, "Are you perhaps interested in the position?"

"Poaching me from my own restaurant, nice. I'll let you know I'm an excellent worker," Carmy jokes, tapping his fingers on the table.

There's no doubt in your mind he's an excellent worker. He has to be if he's considered one of the best up-and-coming chefs. Or to work in one of the best restaurants in the world with three Michelin stars.

"I don't know. I'll need references," you speak as if not believing him.

Carmy smiles and softly chuckles, "Fair enough."

There's a moment of silence between the two of you that Carmy is quick to fill, "So, uh, have you had dinner yet by chance?" This is it.

You shake your head no and look at him with hopeful eyes.

"Wanna go grab pizza? I know a place," he asks, finding your gaze on him.

"Say no more," you say, closing your laptop and taking off your glasses. "I'm starving."

Carmy waits for you to lock Bee Hive and grab your things. Then, you both walk to the pizza place. To pass the time, you and Carmy talk about your days and anything that comes to mind. Nothing serious as you get to know each other.

Waiting in line to order the pizza, you tell him all about your nickname and how you were donned 'Honey' to everyone who knows you. In return, he tells you about his nickname 'Bear' and why his restaurant is named as such. For the first time, he dares mention Mickey.

"Best pizza in Chicago," Carmy says, taking a slice of the pie and placing it on your plate.

"I'll see about that," you murmur. You wait until he has a slice of his own and dig in simultaneously.

"It's good, but this is not the best pizza place in Chicago," you say after chewing the first bite, "I'm gonna get your chef license revoked."

"Are you? With what proof? Have you tried all the pizza places to know?"

"I don't have to because I've tried the best," you hum, taking another bite. The cheese stretches as you pull it away.

"Oh yeah? Which one?" Carmy questions you, taking a drink of his beer.

"Mine. The pizza I make is the best," you shrug modestly.

"Wait. You cook?" Carmy asks, giving you a look of surprise.

Cooking is a universal thing. Most people know how to cook up to a degree, yet only some are as confident in their skills as you are. You know you're definitely not up to Carmy's level, but if there is something you know how to do properly, it's pizza.

"Yeah! You're not the only good cook here, Berzatto," you sass back at him, dipping the pizza crust in the marinara sauce.

"Sorry for assuming," he raises his palms.

"You're forgiven," you chirp.

"When will I try this famous pizza of yours then?" Carmy wonders. An attempt to see if you'd like to see more of him.

"I promise I'll make it for you once you open The Bear. You're too stressed to fully enjoy it now," you respond. You were reaching out. Throwing hints that you want this to continue in the foreseeable future.

The conversation continues to flow with an empty pizza box in front of you. Customers come and go until it's only the two of you and a drunk customer picking up his pizza.

"Tell me about your tattoos. Were they an act of rebellion or something else?"

It's an excuse to touch his hands. You reach for them, turning them to see the black ink on his hands and fingers. You gently trace over them with the pads of your fingers. Over the hand that's stabbed, the letters S.O.U. on his knuckles and the forget-me-nots. The one you're dying to touch, though, is the one on his bicep; you'd give anything to feel the hard muscle underneath the rolled-up sleeves of his white t-shirt.

"Uh, my first tattoo is the 773. Got it when I left Chicago for the first time. After that, I sort of became addicted to them. I found they helped my anxiety when it was becoming too much. The pain distracted me and made me feel stronger than I actually was," he says, letting you touch him. He finds that he likes it. Your touch is soft and warm. Comforting.

"So what you're trying to say is you're a masochist," you say, bouncing your eyebrows at him. Your touch goes further up his arm to turn it and look at the fish tattoo on his forearm.

"I guess so," Carmy responds with a breathy laugh, "Do you have any tattoos?"

"Maybe…" You shrug as the pads of your fingers trail back down to his palm until you pull them back towards you. Carmy instantly misses the feeling, opting to cross his arms to retain the warmth you left behind.

"It's bad, isn't it?" He says knowingly. Your reaction told him everything he needed to know.

"The worst," you grimace, shaking your head at the memory of you getting it.

"So, rebellion or something else?"

"Rebellion. For all the wrong reasons," you groan, burying your face in your hands, "Growing up, everyone saw me as a good girl because that's what I was. Breaking the rules terrified me. So, as a teenager, I didn't want to be seen as a goody two shoes, so the summer before I went to college, I decided that getting a tattoo would make me a badass."

"Did it work?"

"God, no. I only got the outline done 'cause it hurt like a bitch. Then I went crying to my parents, fully having a meltdown, apologizing for disappointing them," You scrunch your nose as you say the following words, "They laughed in my face, called me a wimp, and told me to suck it up."

Carmy fully laughs at your story. Head thrown back, eyes closing, "What did you get?"

"That's a secret, Berzatto," you purse your lips, avoiding responding. You just know he'll make fun of you for it.

Everyone who has seen your tattoo has made fun of you for it, yourself included. It's so silly and not badass. Carmy will have to wait to see your tattoo, and you hope this continues so he can see it up close.

"Really? That bad?" Carmy stares wide-eyed.

"It's terrible," you nod, leaning on the table. "We should probably get going before the waitress throws a fit."

Carmy looks over his shoulder to see the waitress glaring at them. It's five minutes till close, and they've made no move to go. He turns back to you and nods towards the door. Carmy helps you with your jacket and leaves a tip on the jar for the waitress. At that, she happily calls after them with a 'Good night!'

"Do you live far?" Carmy asks, seeing how dark it is now that most places have closed. There are too many lamp posts that aren't working. He'd feel better if he could walk you home or you called an Uber. Preferably the former.

"Only a couple of blocks away. Why?"

"It's late. Let me walk you home," Carmy says decidedly, not giving you much of a choice.

"Thanks," you respond with a small smile.

The pace you set is slow. You don't want your time with Carmy to end just yet. He's such an interesting and sweet guy. He's a little awkward, but it adds to his charm, and you can see he's trying.

Somewhere along the way, his hand brushes against yours briefly. Then, it happens again, and you decide to bite the bullet. You grasp his hand in yours.

"Is this okay?" You ask when he falls silent.

Carmy doesn't have a lot of experience with girls. He can't even remember the last time he held a girl's hand. All he knows is he doesn't remember ever feeling this good. "Yes, uh, this is okay."

Carmy walks you up to your front door when you reach your house. You unlock the door but stay outside face-to-face with Carmy.

"Thanks for the pizza," you say, fiddling with your fingers. You were about to make one more move for the night. Because as long as Carmy allows you, you'll keep pushing for more.

"Sorry, it wasn't the best," he retorts, rubbing his jaw with his hand. You notice he does that a lot when nervous.

"Your company made up for it," you reassure him, "g'night Carmy." You kiss his cheek goodbye, watching as his cheeks blush.

"Night," he whispers.

As you turn to leave, Carmy stops you by grabbing your wrist, "Wait-uh, can I? Uh-shit. Fuck it." For a second, Carmy shuts out the excessive thoughts in his head and does what he's been dying to do for weeks.

Carmy cups your jaw and kisses you. It's soft and slow. He gives you enough leeway to pull away if it's something you don't want, but you reciprocate eagerly. You've been waiting for this all night.

As confidence surges through his body, Carmy throws an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. You wrap your arms around him, one of your hands resting on his neck, tangling on his curls. The tug of your fingers feels like heaven.

The kiss turns needy and desperate, your lips moving perfectly in sync. His tongue brushes over your lip; Carmy has been dying to test a theory. Are you as sweet as your name?

He's rewarded by a little noise in the back of your throat as he slips his tongue into your mouth. It's endearing, and he finds a way to make you do it again. With heads tilting to deepen the kiss, he concludes he was right. You're pure honey. Sweet and addicting.

When Carmy returns to his apartment, he gets the urge to create, to cook. He wants to bring your taste to life with his cooking. Something with honey.

"I was wondering if you'd want to come to the restaurant for Family and Friends."

You and Carmy are in your little office at Bee Hive. He stands between your legs as you sit on the desk. His lips are slightly red and swollen, and the hair at the nape of his neck is messier than usual.

"Hm, I could be persuaded," you pretend to think as you play with the golden chain around his neck, pulling him towards you.

"Yeah?" Carmy laughs, leaning to brush his lips against yours. When he feels you nod, he closes the small gap between the two of you.

His hands hold your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. He tastes like coffee, which is to be expected from the discarded cup beside you. It's funny how your relationship, if it could be called that, has moved all around Bee Hive from the register to the front and now to your office.

You're at a weird spot where you're not exactly friends because friends don't kiss, but you're not a couple either. It's a situationship for sure. You're content with what you have now, although you'd also love it if Carmy were to ask you to be more. You pin it on him being shy. He'll get around to it.

"What do you say?" Carmy questions as he kisses a trail from your cheek to your jaw.

"Consider me in," you giggle when he kisses a tickly spot.

Carmy brushes a strand of hair out of your face, remaining close to you. This is what he needs. After months of stress and anxiety of having to deal with The Beef, now The Bear, he needed you and your calming presence. Someone removed from the chaos, a safe haven.

He's quiet as his thoughts consume him, and you take the intimate position to fix his gold chain. Turning it so the clasp faces the back instead of the front. "I'm excited, Carmy," you say with a smile, brushing his cheek with your thumb.

"You can bring someone with you," Carmy offers nervously because he realizes he probably won't have the time to spend much time with you. "I-I don't think I'll be around much. I'm sorry. I'd understand if that makes you change your mind," Carmy drops his head as he braces himself for disappointment.

As the weeks pass, you learn more about Carmy and his insecurities. It doesn't deter you from wanting to be with him. Everyone has their issues. "Berzatto, stop. Look at me," you softly divert his attention, "I'd love to go and support you even if it's from the sidelines."

"You sure?" He asks once more.

If reassurance is what he needs, that's what you'll give. "Don't worry about me. This is your moment, Carmy. Enjoy it. I'll be around afterward."

"Thank you for understanding," Carmy responds, stealing one more kiss from you.

When he returns to The Bear, he helps Sydney prep the dishes they finally chose to serve. He notes how everything is laid out and anything they should fix before opening.

Richie struts into the kitchen with a suit on. Apparently, it's his thing now. Carmy figures staging at Chef Terry's restaurant had a good impact on him. All Carmy wanted was to show Richie he had what it takes. That he's not a fuck up.

"Glad to see things are going well with Honey," Richie thunders.

"What are you talking about?" Carmy says in a rush as he plates the lamb expertly.

"That thing on your neck," Richie says, motioning to his own neck. He has a smug look on his face.

"I don't have time for this, cousin," Carmy grumbles, wiping the plate where the sauce might've splattered.

Groaning, Richie grabs one of the new pans and holds it in front of Carmy. "I don't see anything," he frowns, looking at Richie for an explanation.

"Right here," Richie points towards the edge of his t-shirt around his neck.

Carmy pulls it back and finally spots what Richie has been referring to. There is a fading purple bruise on his skin, a hickey. You must've done it when he was back in your office. He'd been too busy touching you to notice.

Sydney, silently watching, pipes up, "No wonder he hasn't been as on edge lately." Carmy shoots her a glare, which causes her to shrug and laugh with a, "What? It's true."

"Ay, yo, Sugar, get in here!" Richie yells down the hall to the office.

"What is it?" Natalie barges in, afraid something went to shit.

Carmy ignores Richie as he babbles to Natalie what he found. His face is red, though, as Sydney nudges his side.

"That's enough about me. We have shit to do," Carmy shouts in his chef's voice.

Everyone in the kitchen, including Richie and Natalie, repeats, "Yes, chef!"

Walking out of the kitchen Richie, 'whispers' to Natalie, "I've always wondered if he likes to be called chef in bed."

"Fuck off, Richie," Natalie glares, but then it falls, and it's replaced with a teasing grin, "He definitely does."

"I heard that! Don't you two have better things to do?" Carmy screams at them.

"Yes, chef!"

Carmy keeps hearing Cicero's 'Uh-oh' throughout the whole day. He understands Cicero, he really does, but to call you a distraction?

His work with The Bear is only starting. They managed to make it to Friends and Family. Now, they have to keep up their best work to fill up the restaurant daily and have a waiting list. His work is far from done. He should listen to Cicero.

Cicero said it with the best of intentions. He doesn't want the Berzatto siblings to fail. He wants to believe they'll succeed and, most importantly, get him his money.

If there is something Cicero has learned throughout the years, it is that girls are distractions. They mean well, but oftentimes, they keep your eyes off the ball. Especially when it's a new relationship like Carmy's. Ultimately, it's up to Carmy to decide what he wants to do. Cicero has played his part by giving him his advice.

One last delivery is made to the restaurant an hour before opening. Richie is the one to receive it and place it in front of Carmy. "She's a keeper, Cousin," he says with a pointed look and a nod. He also wants the best for Carmy, and yet it doesn't align with Cicero.

You knew Carmy would be too stressed and all over the place to eat or drink, so you sent everyone at The Bear a drink and a pastry. One of the cups has Carmen's name with a little heart and 'good luck' written on it.

"Yeah, she is," Carmy sighs, turning the cup in his hands to look at the message. His thumb brushes over your handwriting longingly. Is listening to Cicero the wise thing to do? He's one of the most successful men he knows in his family.

When it's 10 minutes till open, Carmy changes into his uniform and looks in the mirror. His heart is racing, begging for Friends and Family not to be a complete failure. Walking out of the bathroom, Carmy is a man on a mission.

It starts relatively well, but like everything in Carmy's life, the kitchen starts welcoming in the chaos.

They are too slow getting the orders out, which causes Sydney to start doubting herself and asking Carmy to step in. He reassures her she's doing good. They just have to keep up the pace.

Then, one of the new chefs disappears mid-rush. Forcing Tina to work two stations and Marcus to step out of his to help Sydney. Carmy ignores some weird tension between them as he works on ensuring the dishes are good to go.

Next thing he knows, Sugar is rushing into the kitchen, yelling at him about forks. It's wasted time, as he can't do anything about it. A shrill reverberates inside his head as he looks at the ticking clock. It's enough to give him a headache.

With no one to take a dish to its table, Carmy takes it upon himself to do it. There's no time to re-fire or wait for someone. He places it on their table and pours the tea into their cups before retreating with an 'enjoy.'

He looks at his restaurant, and suddenly, the ringing in his head gets louder. Sitting in a booth is his old boss, staring back at him like he did back in New York. Like he was waiting for Carmy to fail.

His voice echoes in Carmy's head. Why are you so fuckin' slow. Hurry up. Go faster motherfucker. Talentless piece of shit.

Right before Carmy spirals, it all goes away. His focus shifts entirely as he sees you taking your seat for the night. The one he chose because he'd be able to see you from the kitchen. You have successfully blocked the mirage he'd conjured up.

You're there with your brother as Richie talks you up, thanking you for coming. As if sensing him, your eyes lock with Carmys. Shyly, you send him a wave, which he returns, thanking you in his head for getting there at the perfect time.

Carmy ducks back to the kitchen with newfound energy. Richie enters shortly after him.

"Chef, your girl is here."

"Thanks, Chef, um, do you have the notepad?" Carmy asks as he continues cleaning dishes and making sure each one is up to par.

"Here you go."

Taking the notepad from Richie, he begins scribbling. I love- No, too fuckin' soon. Thank you for- Nope, it's too stale.

I'm happy you're here, Honey. Wait for me after you're done? -Bear

"Here," Carmy hands it to him without even looking at Richie.

"Keep up the good work, Chefs," Richie yells out to the room before disappearing to the front of the house. The door swinging shut behind him.

"Yes, Chef!"

Something isn't working in the kitchen. They're too backed up, and no matter how hard they try, they're always a tad too slow. Through Sydney surrounding the wheel to Richie, Carmy steals glances out the kitchen window. You're smiling at whatever your brother says, your lips sipping the wine he chose. Carmy can get through this night because, in the end, you'll be waiting for him.

"There he is," you sing as you spot Carmy walking out of the kitchen. The chef's whites back in his locker as he sports his white t-shirt, jeans, and jacket.

Fak, who kept you company while Carmy finished up, speaks up next, "My brother, I'm gonna grab a sandwich and head home. Honey, it was a pleasure meeting you."

"You too, Neil!"

"Thanks for everything," Carmy tells him, giving him a hug and a pat like dudes do.

Carmy turns and grabs your hand to pull you close and kiss your cheek. "What did you think?"

"It was the most delicious thing I've ever tasted," you tell him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

There's a reason Carmy has had so many accolades despite his young age. He has a gift in the kitchen. The moment his food touched your taste buds, your life changed. He and Sydney outdid themselves, and the way everything flowed showed how much work they put into the restaurant.

"You're exaggerating," Carmy modestly says, his arms wrapping around your waist.

"I'm really not," you shake your head, pursing your lips. Carmy can't resist placing a small peck on your red-painted lips.

"What about your famous pizza?"

"No, it might be the best pizza in Chicago, but whatever I ate today topped it," you smile at him, scrunching your nose. "Consider your chef's license reinstated,"

"Thanks," Carmy laughs breathily, "Do you mind if we walk? I feel some of the rush still."

"Lead the way, Mr. Berzatto."

Carmy grabs your hand, leading you to the streets of Chicago. It's silent momentarily as the wind cools Carmy's heated face. He places his hand along with yours into his pocket.

"Did your brother like it?" He asks, breaking the ice.

"Oh yeah. I'm officially like the best sister ever," you respond, squeezing his hand.

You had accidentally forgotten that your brother had passed the Bar exam. So, you didn't have time to get him anything in celebration. You figured dinner at a lovely new restaurant would help while you got him a proper present.

"How did you feel throughout, though? It looked intense." You often found yourself looking through the small glass window into the kitchen. They were always on the move, looking for the next thing to do.

"It didn't just look like it. I'm used to it, though," Carmy admits with a sniff. Everyone's best and worst habits shone through for those couple of hours. It's an environment he's all too familiar with, in and out of the kitchen.

"That rough," you grimace.

"It's fine. We have a lot to work on, but it's a start, and it wasn't entirely terrible," Carmy says, thinking back on tonight. Before coming out to meet you, he wrote down a couple of things to go through with Sugar and Sydney.

"Good, 'cause I hope The Bear sticks around the block," you say, bumping your shoulder with his.

You invite Carmy into your house when you arrive. He takes up your offer, holding your hand to help you balance as you take your heels off. It reminds Carmy he forgot to mention how beautiful you looked today.

He follows you to the kitchen, watching your hips sway and your dress skirt swishing. Padding to the wine fridge, you pick out a bottle of red to celebrate.

Carmy indulges in looking at your legs as you stretch up to reach for the glasses of wine up in your cabinets. His blue eyes darken as your dress hikes up, exposing your pretty thighs.

His gaze darts back up at you when you turn around to place the glasses on the kitchen counter. You hand him the wine opener so he can do the honors because you suck at taking the cork out. It's why you mainly stick to cheaper wines with twist-off caps.

"Here is to The Bear and its amazing owner," you say, lifting your glass in front of you.

"Here's to not fuckin' it up entirely," Carmy follows, making you giggle. Your wine glasses clink, and you take a drink.

Placing the glass back down, Carmy pins you against the counter, his strong hands resting on the edge of it. You look at him through your lashes, a hand coming up to his chest to feel the steady thumping of his heart.

"You look beautiful. I like the dress," Carmy murmurs. It's better late than never.

The dress you wear is a pretty shade of light blue. Simple yet dressy. The neckline gives him a good view of your cleavage and has long sleeves to compensate for the shorter length. They currently cover the goosebumps lining your skin.

"Yeah? I picked it out thinking you might," you reveal, biting your lip. The shade reminded you of his eyes.

"You were right," he whispers, cupping your jaw. As pretty as the dress is, he's sure it'll look so much better on the floor.

Carmy closes his eyes as he leans down to kiss you. He's always struggled with words, so he hopes it's enough for you to catch what he's trying to say.

You smile into the kiss, blindly leaving your glass to the side to be able to touch him. Your palm presses against his chest and taut abdomen. He hides a nice amount of muscle under his t-shirts, a pleasant surprise.

Carmy easily lifts you up to sit down on the kitchen island. He steps between your legs, never breaking the heated kiss. The hands on your waist trail down to your thighs and under your dress. Carmy's tattooed hands squeeze your ass and thighs, earning him a moan from you.

This is the farthest you've ever gotten, and you're more than ready to have all of him. Carmy knows this, which leads to his thoughts getting out of control.

He has to make a decision now. Does he allow himself to be with you, or does he remain by himself like always? Richie's, Sugar's, Cicero's, and Sydney's voices all shout at him different things. Some are in favor, and others are in opposition. 'Uh oh.'

He can't lead you on and sleep with you if he will back out tomorrow. The voices become deafening in an instant, ripping him away from your embrace. His emotions bubbled over and spilled all over the place.

"Wait, stop, I just-" Carmy breathes heavily, taking a couple of steps back from you. Carmy's hand comes up to his forehead as he attempts to organize his thoughts.

"What's wrong?" You ask worriedly. Did you do something wrong?

Carmen's thoughts spill out his mouth without making much sense as he paces in your kitchen. "I can't stop thinking about it and owe it to my team..."

"Carm?" You slide off the kitchen counter, approaching him slowly.

"-keeps saying it's a distraction," he rambles mostly to himself. His heart is pounding painfully in his chest. If he didn't know any better, he'd think he was having a heart attack.

"Hey, hey, hey. What's a distraction?" Softly, you grab onto his arms, stopping him in his tracks, trying to find his lost gaze.

"You. Whatever this is," Carmy breathes, finally meeting your eyes, which he instantly regrets as your eyes turn sad.

The watering of your eyes is unintentional, as is the knot forming in your throat. "You think I'm distracting you?" You question barely above a whisper.

His response is instant, "Fuck, no, the opposite. W-When I'm with you or-or think about you, things get clearer, and it's-it's when I feel the most focused." Carmy holds your shoulders, comforting you because he never meant to hurt you. He can't stand the sad look in your eyes.

Slowly, you begin to piece together his rambling and conclude that other people have been telling him you're a distraction. You wonder if they don't want him to be happy. The Bear is the center of Carmy's life, and before that, it was the restaurant in New York. He deserves more than this crazy job.

"Then fuck what others tell you, Carmen. You deserve to have a life outside The Bear." Maybe you're selfish because you don't want to lose him, but you hope he believes your words.

"I-I don't. I don't deserve all your attention or your affection. I'm nothing special. I don't deserve you." Carmy says, shaking his head with furrowed brows.

Weeks ago, he had no source of enjoyment. He said it himself at the support group. Now, he has you, yet he can't bear the thought of you wanting to be with him. He feels like he's tricking you into a bad deal. That's what he is, though, isn't he? An overachieving fuck up with tons upon tons of baggage.

Carmen Berzatto is an anxious person with too many problems in his life. He has a fucked up family. His mother is a mentally unstable alcoholic. His brother was addicted to painkillers and decided that shooting himself on a bridge was better than living this life. That's without mentioning all the trauma he has from his job and the terrible people he's worked with.

What good does he have to offer you?

"Yes, you do," you reassure him, placing your hands on his cheeks. The cool metal of your rings soothes him somewhat, grounding him. "You deserve all that and more, Carmy. You're so sweet and kind and hard-working. You've been through shit. You deserve something good in life. Maybe it's me, or maybe it's not, but don't close yourself off."

You're begging at this point. Whatever this relationship is, it's just starting. He's not giving himself a chance. You like Carmy so damn much. He's funny without knowing it and thoughtful, too. There are so many qualities he doesn't realize he has.

His eyes watch you as tears line them. He's silently pleading for you to convince him. To get him out of his own head and forget the expectations others have on him.

"I'm not going to force you into anything, Carm. It's your call, but I've enjoyed our last couple of months together. I know we don't know each other completely, but I want to know everything about you. I have feelings for you, so whatever you decide, I'll support it."

Being honest is all you can do at this point. You pour your heart out and hope Carmy chooses you.

You and Carmy stand in the middle of your kitchen. Face to face, reaching out towards each other. It's clear as day that you want the same thing. It's only a matter of taking the right steps now.

"I can't let you go," Carmy responds, grabbing the hand on his cheek. His thumb brushes over the back of it.

"Then don't."

Carmy's decision is made. Without another thought, he smashes his lips against yours. He grabs the back of your neck, tilting your head to meet his heated kiss.

It's more intense now that the cards are on the table. Nothing to hold him back.

Tongues clash together as your bodies seek each other out. The temperature rises when Carmy lifts you up to wrap your legs around his hips. His hands are on the back of your thighs, holding tight onto you.

"Bedroom?" He asks, breaking the kiss, a trail of saliva between the two of you.

"Down the hallway," you breathe heavily, kissing down his neck.

Carmy makes it to the bedroom, opening the door with a bang. He spots your bed, placing you in the middle with him holding himself up on top of you.

He watches as your back meets the bed and your fair fans around you like a halo. The curvature of your breasts accentuated even more from the position.

Carmy hikes your leg further up his hips as he dips down to kiss a wet trail down to the neckline of your dress. He leaves open-mouthed kisses on the rounded flesh, nipping at the skin playfully when you arch your back to push more into him.

"Carmy," you breathe, cupping his jaw to pull him back to your lips. Grinding your hips, you manage to graze against his bulge.

"Shit," Carmy shakily curses, thrusting his hips to meet your touch once more.

Curiously, your hands wander across his body. Carmy's moans in your ear make your panties wetter than they already are.

You grasp the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and off. You're desperate to have him, your cunt aches for him. Your nails scratch down his firm stomach when he bites into your earlobe, softly calling your name.

"Unzip me," you pant, pushing him away and pulling your hair off to the side.

Carmy grabs the small zipper, pushing it down and exposing your pretty skin. As he slides the fabric off of you, he kisses your shoulders and back, taking note of the goosebumps on your skin.

His mind is in the present, and nothing can take it away from him. It's like a switch he managed to turn off in his brain. No more family drama, no more The Bear. It's just you...and him. Honey and Bear.

You stretch your neck to the side, giving Carmy more space to pepper kisses across the delicate skin. The dress pooling at your feet exposes your chest, and Carmy's hands come up from behind you. His fingers shyly brush up your stomach, tickling you, until they find your breasts.

He draws a moan from you as he squeezes them in his palms, pushing you back to meet his chest; turning your head to the side, you find his lips.

The kiss breaks when he slides one of his hands into your underwear, dipping his finger to feel your wetness. Your arm reaches back to dig your fist in his curls.

"You're soaked, Honey," he moans, finding your clit to tease it.

"Been waiting for so long, Carmy," you whine as your hips stutter along with the flicks of his wrist.

"I'm sorry. I'm here now," he purrs into your ear.

Carmy can hear the distinct 'shlick, shlick, shlick' of his fingers against your clit. It spurs him on as he slips a finger into you. He can't wait to have his cock inside of you, snug and warm.

"Oh my god, Carmen," you gasp when he prods another finger into your entrance. Hanging onto his arm across your chest, you roll your hips against his fingers.

"I got you," he says, digging his fingers deeper into you and curling them.

Your knees buckle as the tips of his fingers curl and hit your g spot repeatedly. If it weren't for him, you'd be on the floor. With your tummy tensing under the weight of the pleasure, you stutter out, "I'm gonna cum."

Carmy's hand is wet from your juices as he ups the ante. Just as your walls begin to squeeze around his fingers, he pulls them out to circle around your clit.

"Oh, f-fuck!" You squeal, throwing your head back onto his shoulder.

The way your clit softly twitches under the pads of his fingers fucks with Carmy. It makes his cock throb and leak into his jeans.

Untangling from his embrace, you place a breathless kiss on Carmy's lips. His slick digits dig into your hips as he prolongs it.

Blindly, you find the edge of his jeans and unbutton them. If Carmy notices, he doesn't say anything. You want to give him one more reason to stay with you.

He moans into your mouth when you grasp his length through his boxers. He's rock hard as he desperately ruts against your hand.

With your hold still on him, you push him to sit on the bed. Carmy looks up at you lustfully. You plant a single short kiss on his lips before kneeling on the floor between his legs. You leave love bites down his chest while looking up at him through your lashes.

Carmy brushes away any hair that falls on your face, his blue eyes focused solely on you. When you reach the waistband of his pants, you pull them down along with his underwear.

His length pops up from its confines, slapping against his tummy. Its tip is a pretty pink shade, with a thick length and a slight curve to it. You salivate instantly at the sight of it.

Carmy's nervous under you. It's been a long since he's been with someone else, and he's never been the most confident.

"Relax," you say teasingly, kissing around his lower tummy to calm him.

Finally, your hand wraps around his cock, lightly pumping it. Leaving sloppy kisses down his happy trail, you feel Carmy's stomach taut in anticipation.

It's been so fuckin' long.

With your eyes staring into his hungry ones, you kiss the pink head that glistens with pre, teasingly brushing it against your lips. Keeping eye contact, you lick his length from base to tip. You alternate between kissing and licking for a minute, enjoying watching Carmy squirm.

"Fuck, Honey," Carmy throws his head back at your torturous pace.

"Look at me," you sweetly say.

Taking mercy on him, you part your lips to take his length into your warm, wet mouth, bobbing your head to a steady rhythm. Prying one of Carmy's hands from the bedsheets, you place it in your hair, encouraging him to use you.

"Good girl," he moans, fisting your hair to force you to take more of his cock. You let your hands rest on his thighs, feeling the strong muscles underneath.

Carmen observes you with hooded eyes as you hollow your cheeks, sucking him expertly. He's obsessed with how your lips leave behind a tinge of red lipstick on his skin.

"Shit-Fuck me," he yells into the room when you swallow around him.

You want him to cum, but Carmy has other plans. He doesn't think he'll last long if you make him cum now, so after the stunt you pulled, he pulls you off his sensitive cock.

The sight in front of him is erotic as a string of saliva connects you to his cock. The tears lining your eyes and blushed nose add to that pretty picture.

"c'me 'ere," he says, helping you up and kissing you as he leads you back to the bed. He tugs off your wet panties, throwing them somewhere in the room.

You lay back on your pillows with Carmy slotted between your legs. It's torture having him so close and yet so far. Now that you've gotten a taste of his cock you need more.

Carmy touches the inside of your thighs, inching his way closer to your cunt. He instantly notices how fuckin' wet you are. You're dripping even more than before.

"Sucking me off, got you this wet, princess?" He asks, leaning his forehead against yours.

"Mhm, Carmy, wish you would've cum in my mouth," you admit, tilting your head up to brush your lips against his.

"You have such a dirty fuckin' mouth," he chuckles darkly.

Where did this side of you come from? You're usually so sweet and delicate. He should've known you would be a freak in bed. To think he almost let this all go.

"Carmen, please."

"Please, what?" Carmen teases, lining his cock against your opening, wetting his cock.

"Fuck me," you moan, kissing his jaw.

"'m gonna fuck you good, princess," he promises, with a shaky nod before he remembers, "Fuck! I-I don't have a condom with me."

"I should have some in my drawer," you mention breathlessly.

Carmy opens the condom in record time but is surprised when you take it from his hands and roll it down his shaft yourself. You just want an excuse to keep touching him.

With your leg hiked up, he aligns himself and slowly pushes in. You both gasp at the sensation. Carmy, for one, is trying to not bust a nut so soon because you're so tight and warm.

Meanwhile, you hold onto Carmy's back as he stretches you out. It's been so long, and your toys aren't nearly as thick as him. You breathily moan in his ear, which he takes as a good sign as he begins thrusting more forcefully and deeper.

Carmy hopes this isn't a dream, and if it is, he hopes he doesn't wake up anytime soon. He has one hand holding onto your thigh and the other holding himself up. His gold chain dangles above you as he picks his head up from its spot on your shoulder. You take the chance to tug on it, returning his attention to your lips.

"You feel so fuckin' good, princess," Carmy groans, squeezing your thigh.

"I love your cock, Carmy," you whine, feeling the drag of his cock on your walls. The pleasure is all-consuming, leaving a fuzzy feeling in your brain.

"You like when I fuck you like this?"

"Yes, yes, yes, keep going."

His hips snap hard against yours, hitting that spot each and every time. His pelvis hitting your clit. He squeezes your thigh, hips, and sides before his hand squeezes your tits, too, playing with your nipples.

Suddenly, he straightens up, pulling you down the bed to have you flushed against his pelvis. He's a sight for sore eyes that forces you to keep your eyes open.

His thrusts are more forceful like this, where he digs his fingers into the fat of your hips to pull you towards him with each snap. It makes your tits bounce, hypnotizing him.

Through your lustful gaze, he looks like a marble statue. His chest glimmers under the lowlights of your room as sweat clings to him, his chain jumping against the blushed skin of his chest, and his fucking hair falling over his pretty eyes. The set of his jaw could've been sculpted by Michaelangelo himself.

Your hands indulgently reach down to touch him in any way you can. You can only reach his stomach, where a nice pair of abs appear due to the effort.

"You like what you see?" Carmy teases. He's entirely lost on you because otherwise, he wouldn't be as cocky to say that.

"You're so handsome," you pitifully say. Your brain not computing as it should, but how can it when it's being fucked out of you?

Carmy doesn't know how to respond. It's not often he's called handsome or looked at as lustfully as you're looking at him. Thankfully, he doesn't need to say much as your eyes roll back and you squeeze your walls around him.

"Carmy, I'm so close," you pant, trying to find any part of him to hold. He offers you his hand, lacing your fingers together.

"Just a little longer, princess," Carmy groans as you clench around him. "Fuck, don't do that to me."

He glances down at the spot where you and him meet to see a ring of white on the base of his cock. He's enthralled with the way you stretch to accommodate him and the way your pink walls drag along his length when he pulls out. Fuckin' beautiful.

Putting all his knowledge to use, he thumbs your clit, making you jolt. He needs you to cum now, or he won't make it. His balls feel like they're about to burst.

"Carmy," you cry out, tightening the hold on his hand.

You teeter on the edge for only a second until you cum, waves of pleasure washing over you. Carmy curses from above you as your tightening walls choke his cock, making him cum too. He stutters his hips a couple more times, riding out his orgasm.

He leans back down again, catching your lips in a small kiss. His body slowly relaxes against yours as his head rests on your neck, breathing in the scent of sweat and perfume.

"That was good," you breathe heavily, rubbing your hands up and down your back. You're just starting to think clearly.

"Fuckin' amazing," he adds.

There's a beat of silence before you both burst out laughing.

A bubble encases you, and it can't be popped as long as you stay in your bedroom. Carmy doesn't want to leave; it's late already, and in a couple of hours, he has to get up and go to The Bear to repeat the process.

For once, he forgets about that and focuses solely on you. He has a couple of hours to spare. Sleep is overrated.

You face each other on the bed, talking in hushed whispers. Your fingers trace the '773' tattoo on his bicep like you've always wanted to do. It tickles Carmy, so he grabs your hand and kisses your palm.

"Now that I'm thinking about it. I didn't see your tattoo," he whispers to prevent disturbing the peace.

Your face warms at his words. You had forgotten about that. He's seen a lot of you in the past couple of hours. What's a bit more of skin?

"You missed my big bad tattoo?" you joke, poking his nose.

"Show me," he says with a lopsided smile.

You make it dramatic, rolling your eyes and giving him a big sigh. Sitting up on the bed, you peel the bed sheets from your body. Carmy props himself up on his elbow in anticipation.

Right there, on your left side and under the curve of your breast is a small outline of Winnie the Pooh's face. Carmy touches it, biting his lip to hold back a laugh. Unsurprisingly, it's precisely what he expected from you.

A few chuckles pass his lips as he pulls you back into his arms.

"Don't laugh. It made sense at the time," you whine, covering yourself back up.

Carmy pulls you to his chest, kissing your temple, "I'm sure it does. Pooh Bear loves his Honey," Just like he does.

"Exactly! Someone gets it!"

And he does because Carmy, aka The Bear, is quickly falling for his Honey.

A couple of days later, Carmy is back at your house helping you prepare the famous pizza you promised him. He lets you take the lead on everything, preferring to follow your instructions rather than let his mind run wild. It's not like you'll let him do most of the work anyway; it's your recipe, and you're protective over it.

"Can you chop up the veggies?" You ask him as you lay down the dough in a pan.

"Yes, Chef," he nods, kissing your cheek as he digs through your kitchen drawers for a knife.

"Oh, I like the sound of that," you muse, shaking your shoulders as you knead the dough to spread it.

"Don't let it get to your head, Hun," Carmy smiles, slicing the vegetables expertly.

Cooking with Carmy is surprisingly easier than you thought. He's not controlling over the kitchen or judgy. He lets you do your thing in peace, following your orders no matter how strange they might be. This is your kitchen, not his.

As you spread the sauce and cheese over one of the doughs, Carmy gets a call. He wipes his hands with a rag and picks it up. You only hear his side of the conversation.

"No, I'm off tonight. I'm with my girl. Call Sugar. She should be able to help you with that. Great. Thanks."

Carmy had promised himself that he would try to balance it all better. He has his team to help each other out. The Bear is a priority, but so are you because you help him keep whatever sanity he has left.

Carmy hangs up, and when he returns to you, he notices the grin on your lips as you put the toppings he chopped on the pizza.

"What's with the smile?" Carmy stands behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he props his head on your shoulder. Your hair tickles his nose, smelling the notes of coconut of your shampoo he digs his head farther into it.

"I'm your girl?" You ask, the smile still present on your face. He'd missed your initial reaction when you heard him call you 'my girl.' You almost dropped the container of pepperoni that was in your hands. It's a shock cause he never asked you to be his girl.

Carmy pauses and tenses up against you. "Uh, yes? Hold up. Turn around," he orders, as he places his hand on your hips to turn your body around.

"Yes, chef," you respond cheekily, your arms around his neck, careful not to touch his sweater with your messy hands.

"Aren't you my girl?" He frowns, rubbing a thumb over your hips.

"I could be, but I don't remember you asking," you pretend to think.

Carmy never directly asked you to be his girlfriend, and you never asked him to be your boyfriend. You might as well be a couple since you've been dating long enough. You decide to seize the opportunity now to get it out of him. Having a proper anniversary day would be nice because you hope this lasts.

"I see, my mistake," Carmy nods, catching your vibe, "Honey…"

"Yes, Carmy?" You blink innocently at him.

"Would you do me the honor of becoming my girlfriend?" He finally asks.

You could joke around but decided against it cause the moment is perfect, "I'd love to," you nod, giving him a small kiss.

When the pizza is cooked, you bring it over to the dining table. Serving Carmy a pretty slice. Excitedly, you wait for him to bite into it and taste it.

"What do you think?" You ask expectantly.

"You were right. Best pizza in Chicago," Carmy agrees with an unbelievable laugh. He's got a lot to learn from you. It's the truth, or maybe he's blinded by his feelings. Only time will tell where you and Carmy will end up.

The End?

thank you guys for pulling through and reading! i know it's a slow burn but i hope you liked it! i certainly enjoyed writing it even though it took me like 4 months.

if you liked it, i would appreciate you liking it, commenting or reblogging. if you have some feedback feel free to send it my way too. i wanna get better at this whole writing thing!

thank you! bye xx

[daincrediblegg]

no you know what I'm going to scream about the stuff I talked about in the tags of this post publicly

I'm tired of the well-meaning "don't feel bad if your work only gets 20 notes your genius is what counts and do it for you!" bullshit. I've had a good handful of friends who have straight up DEACTIVATED in recent months because their work was not getting reblogged AT ALL. No, it wasn't from lack of not being well-liked, no it wasn't from lack of trying to make sure it was getting out there to the people they knew would engage with it. It was because no matter how much they were praised privately for their work, when push came to shove, absolutely NOBODY reblogged it and gave it the audience that it was due, and I'm tired of people shoving the "unsung genius" narrative as an excuse for it. Nothing excuses that. And the boop event really proved that.

because I know given the opportunity, indiscriminately pressing a button (sometimes 10 thousand times, as I did) is not beyond this website's capability. y'all loved doing that. and look at what it wrought. nothing but love and affection and happiness. just from a couple of quick clicks of a little paw button. sure. nobody knew who you booped but the other person (which is how likes used to work on this website, btw). there was an element of anonymity to it. but that is kind of the core of this website that no other social media platform still has: the ability to be anonymous. and hyper-curating a blog on here like you might on twitter or instagram to project an image is simply not viable. and hey. you wanna know a secret: literally nobody cares what you post or whether it goes with the "theme" of your blog or not. yeah. I know. CRAZY concept in this day and age. but literally. I myself have reblogged things that have had nothing to do with whatever I am currently fixated by and you know what happened to my follower count? not a damn thing. in fact, I actively try to reblog things specifically BECAUSE it's my friends who made them (even though I'm not always good at KEEPING UP WITH HOW MUCH THEY POST @prismatica-the-strange will NEVER GO UNRECOGNIZED by me).

And you know what fucking sucks? I have to deal with this too. surprise right? you ever wonder why I reblog fics or art I post like 20 times the day that I post them? do you ever wonder why I ask about tag lists and beg for asks all the time? IT'S BECAUSE EVEN I GET LIKE. 5 LIKES ON THE THINGS I POST. AND THE REST OF THE REBLOGS ARE MINE SO I CAN MAKE SURE THAT PEOPLE WHO WANT TO SEE WHAT I MAKE GET TO SEE IT. and I say that knowing that I'm certainly not an unpopular blog, or an unpopular writer. I know that people love the stories that I create. Hell, half of the people that I've talked to about lady terror have told me that they consider her to be canon (AND EVEN SOME!! THOUGHT SHE WAS!!! WITHOUT EVEN HAVING WATCHED THE SHOW! WHICH IS STILL SO SO WILD TO ME!!!) But especially in the last 4 years (which really dates this phenomenon), my posts, no matter how well received they've been amongst people I've talked to about them directly, I still go into the notes and at least half (often more than half) are MY reblogs to make sure people saw what I posted. and it happens every single time, and I can't tell you how much it crushes me considering that it used to be that I would be able to post it only once, and people would reblog it sometimes even HUNDREDS of times.

It's not about popularity. it never has been. it's not about anxiety. or shifting website cultures. even if you lurk, the simple fact is, that if you want people to keep making what you love. you have to reblog. your theme won't suffer because you reblogged a fanfiction that you really admire. your posting won't be ruined because you reblogged some fanart from someone in a different fandom. really. I promise. and if people do unfollow you for that? who needs em. followers come and go but you should NEVER have to cater to them. on this website it has ALWAYS been the other way around. lean into it. make it yours. put stuff you ACTUALLY WANT to be seen and that you love and appreciate on your blog. no matter how old it is, how new it is, no matter how niche or off-theme it is.

so please. if you really want to show your appreciation for someone's work? you reblog. it's really as easy as that. check the tags. add some when you reblog if you like. but please for the love of god reblog. it's as easy as booping and even more rewarding for the people who you reblog from. if you want to let someone know that their work is genius and appreciate it? show it. reblog. then DM them if you're too nervous to say what you want to say but not in a public forum. but for christ's sake. REBLOG.

[teaboot]

While I'm happy that the word "gaslighting" is more known than it used to be, and that people at large are learning to recognize what it looks like, I feel like we need to be careful not to turn it into something soft and casual we throw around off the cuff without meaning.

Being gaslit is psychological abuse that fucks you up very badly, very slowly, at such a gradual pace that you don't usually know it's happening until it's already re-wired your brain.

If you're unfamiliar with the term, "to gaslight" is to intentionally persuade someone that they cannot trust their own perceptions of reality. It's a destabilizing form of manipulation that leaves you constantly anxious, off-balanced, confused, and dependant on others.

This is done by lying about events that have happened or about things that are happening, invalidating feelings and observations, and either denying, refusing to acknowledge, or deflecting away from hard facts.

As someone who has experienced gaslighting as a form of abuse, this is what I remember from when I didn't know anything was off:

"Oh, I must have forgotten what really happened."

"I'm just not seeing it from their point of view."

"Everyone has their ups and downs. This is normal."

"I guess I wasn't thinking about what I was doing."

"I must have been wrong."

This is what I remember from when I first started realizing something was weird:

"How come every time I'm convinced they did something wrong, they just talk to me a few minutes, and I end up asking for their forgiveness? What has me so convinced I was right in the first moment?"

"I should start writing things down when they happen, so I can go back and check later when I'm confused."

"If every relationship like ours (familial, romantic, platonic) works this way, how come I never hear about it, or read about it, or see it anywhere else?"

Getting out and adjusting to the real world is hard, too, and comes with rapid swings of unfounded guilt, shame, fear, anxiety, and self-deprication that are completely unfounded in reality.

You've been conditioned to believe that you are entirely helpless and unable to think for yourself, possibly "crazy" or otherwise fundamentally impaired, and that there is a singular source of guidance that knows exactly what is right, and all of a sudden that pillar of support has vanished.

The immediate "after" that I recall looks like:

Constant uncertainty. Because nobody is there to tell you what's real and what isn't, you approach every situation thinking at it from all angles. Every question has fifty possible answers and most of them are wrong and you don't know which. If you choose wrong, the world will end.

A sense of helplessness. You feel that nothing you do is correct, and it's easier to make no choices at all- or you make wild, reckless, impulsive choices, because you feel you have nothing to lose.

Memory loss. I don't understand this one, but it's not like memoriescare being erased, but more like... you're so used to treating your memories as dreams or imaginations that you reflexively dismiss anything you recall as fake, and you can't believe anything you recall because you don't think it was real. Your abusers voice is in your head, wiping things away and telling you that you did the wrong thing. And you believe them, because they're the only constant you can rely on.

Missing the abuser, or the abusive dynamic. Because you know now that it wasn't healthy, but at least you knew where you stood. As long as you said the right things and acted the right way, agreed and obeyed and did as they expected, you felt like thevworld made sense. Now you have to figure out which parts of you really are broken, and which parts are working fine in a really weird way, and it's like tuning a piano when you've never played one before.

The long term "after"- for which I can only speak for myself- looks like:

Having to double-check, triple-check, and continue checking hard evidence of an event before responding in an active way.

Consulting with trusted friends to verify that your observations are legitimate and that your perceptions are valid. Following up with them to see if someone is really angry at you, or if you're just projecting anger onto them because it's what makes sense to your old pattern.

Obsessive collection of "evidence"- saving pictures, writing detailed journals, making recordings and video, never deleting emails or old texts, because you still don't quite trust yourself all the way and you're afraid that someone will cause you to doubt yourself again.

Continued self-doubt and being "gullible": I have straight up seen people flip me off to my face in front of witnesses and then immediately tell me, "No, I was just waving", and my first instinct is to believe them. For a few seconds, I *really do* believe them. Your brain is so trained to latch onto what people tell you to believe that its really, really hard to hold onto information that you already have.

Learning to take ownership over your own actions. (I didn't mess up because I'm "crazy", I messed up because I'm a person and people do that.)

Instinctively seeking approval. (Takes a lot of work to remind myself that I don't exit to make people happy, and that some people suck ass, and I can tell them to piss off.)

I don't intend to invalidate anyone currently struggling with this- if you feel that something is wrong, it probably is. That's the thought that got me out. Trust that feeling that something isn't right.

I just want people who don't know what to look for to know what gaslighting *actually* looks and feels like, so they don't just roll their eyes and think, "Oh, that word doesnt apply to me- I'm not some snowflake".

('Cause we all saw what happened with "triggered", right?)

[youunravelme]

to all the girls you've loved before part seven

author's note: WHEW okay i am so sorry it took five days short of a year to finish this. what a wild ride it has been! i just wanted to shout out my dear friend @dani746 who has cheered me on (and roasted me) many times throughout this process. i probably wouldn't have finished this without you. i also want to shout out my other friend @thewintersoldierdisaster who helped me process so much of this part to get it written. you both are the best and i owe you both big time! i also owe all of you who have read and reblogged and replied and liked this series over the last year and a half, you have been so amazing! anyway, here's part seven! (and not to worry, while this is the last part of the series, i will be writing more about mama bear and mat).

pairing: single dad!mat barzal x reader

summary: being a nanny for rich people was probably the worst thing that ever happened to you, until you started working for mat.

warnings: children, rich people, fear of falling in love, anxiety

day seventy-one

you arrived at sydney and matt's in thirty minutes. it probably would've taken less time had traffic not been absolutely abhorrent due to the holiday.

you thanked the driver and paid before grabbing your bag and walking out into the cold air.

in your rush, you forgot a jacket.

you stumbled up the martin's front steps, and dialed sydney's number, pointedly ignoring the five missed calls and eleven texts from mat.

"hello?" thank god sydney sounded awake.

"hey," you exhaled. "can you let me in? i need a place to stay for tonight."

you could hear her mumble something to her husband. and the door was opened thirty seconds later.

matt ushered you in without a word. sydney met you in the foyer with a crease between her brows at the sight of your jacket-less frame and the bag in your hands.

"what happened?" she asked as she led you to the living room and sat you down on a couch. a ringtone sounded and when you turned around matt was answering his phone.

your focus shifted to matt who was looking straight at you. "hey barzy," he said. "yeah, she's here." he nodded, but his eyes were focused on you and sydney. "she got here just a minute ago. no she doesn't have a jacket. syd's with her now." matt hummed into the phone. "we'll drive her to the airport tomorrow, don't worry about it."

you wanted to bury yourself into the pillows. you wanted the couch to swallow you whole.

you didn't hear the end of the conversation matt had on the phone. to be quite frank, you weren't sure you wanted to hear it at all.

matt joined you and syd on the sectional. he threw an arm around the back of the couch and the very sight of it made you sick. you loved them together, you did, that wasn't your problem.

it just reminded you how jason never did anything close to that.

or more importantly (and maybe this was your bigger concern): your shoulders felt cold without mat's arm wrapped around them.

"what happened?" matt asked. and you had to give it to him, you appreciated the "no bullshit" approach he was taking, even if you felt a little attacked.

you opened and closed your mouth repeatedly, but no words came out.

"i'm asking because barzy sounded like he was two seconds away from a full blown panic attack."

you could feel your ears getting hot. your cheeks were getting warm. you wanted to throw up.

"we kissed," you mumbled.

the martins blinked, and you had to give credit where credit was due, sydney didn't shout "i told you so." matt, though, seemed to recognize that the conversation was probably best had between you and sydney because he pressed a kiss to the side of her head and walked out of the room.

sydney nodded and cocked her head to the side. "why did you run?" she asked.

you broke eye contact to look at your hands which were furiously picking at your cuticles. you could see her move closer, leaning forward on her elbows.

sydney said your name quietly. "what happened? did he overstep a boundary? i can get matt to say something to him--"

"i kissed him," you admitted, still not looking up. "i kissed him and freaked out and ran."

“why?”

you exhaled and continued picking at your fingers. "jason said some shit that just got under my skin and now i can't stop thinking about it."

sydney waited for a moment before she spoke again. "what did he say?"

you couldn't see, and it took you a minute to realize that it was because your eyes were blurring with tears. it felt pathetic to sniffle and wallow when it was your fault.

it was all your fault.

"no it's not, honey," sydney said, sounding closer than she did a few minutes ago. you didn't even realize you had said anything. "what did your ex say to you?"

"he said mat would eventually get bored of me. whether that meant just in general or if we slept together."

"you know that's not true, right?"

you halfheartedly shrugged.

sydney was beside you now. she placed her hand on your knee and squeezed. "honey, it's not true. jason treated you like shit, if the one interaction i saw the two of you have was any indication." when you didn't reply, she sighed. "we don't have to talk about it anymore. let's get the guest room set up so you can get some sleep."

it took all of ten minutes for the guest room to be ready. you were curled into the bed moments later.

you found yourself staring at the ceiling wondering how you could've ruined your life so quickly.

you shouldn't have kissed him.

god what were you thinking.

at a professional level, he was your boss, at a technical level, he was a roommate and also—

the best guy you'd ever known.

not that it mattered at the end of the day. you kissed him and ruined any sort of relationship, professional or platonic, you could've had. you might not have been a stem girly, might not be a rocket scientist, but even you could knew that it didn't matter if the stars aligned—

there was no way mat barzal was in love with you.

so you cried yourself to sleep and dreamt of the hazel eyes that had enraptured your heart.

day seventy-two

matt drove you to the airport and thankfully said nothing about your puffy eyes and messy hair. it was safe to say you were restless all night, barely feeling like you slept at all when your alarm went off.

“do you need someone to pick you up when you get back into town?” matt asked as jfk airport approached.

you hesitated. “i hadn't thought that far ahead,” you admitted. “mat was supposed to pick me up, but i don't think he'll want to see me.” not after you ruined everything.

matt nodded. “text syd and let her know when your flight gets into town and we’ll figure something out. if not us, then i’m sure the lees can help.”

when he pulled up to the airport, you gave him a grateful smile and a small thanks before grabbing your personal item and carry on and getting out of his suv. for a brief second, you contemplated jumping back in his car and begging matt to take you back to mat and ella, but you forced your legs to carry you into the airport, telling yourself your mother would be upset if you missed your flight.

so you walked through the airport, through tsa, to your gate, onto the plane, like a zombie. you couldn't stop imagining the way mat’s lips felt against yours, couldn't stop hearing jason’s words in your head like a broken record.

and when your plane took off, you imagined and wondered how mat did it all the time. your stomach dropped as you increased in elevation. your heart lurched when you looked at your lock screen, a photo of the three of you after one of his games.

you should change it, but you loved that little girl and that photo was one time of many recent memories where you felt like you truly belonged.

you locked your phone to keep yourself from thinking about it too much.

your mom met you in your hometown’s airport with a cheesy poster with your baby pictures plastered all over it. she squealed and shoved the poster at your father in favor of nearly tackling you to the ground. you could've cried in her arms, the weight of the last few months catching up to you. for all your parents’ faults, of which there were many, it felt good to be with them again.

your mom pulled back and gave you a watery smile. her hands framed your cheeks as she pulled your head down to place a kiss in your hair. “we've missed you, sweetheart,” she said. “christmas wasn’t christmas without you.”

“missed you too, mom.”

your dad scooped up your carry on and led you to the beat up suv he'd had since you were a sophomore in high school.

the backseat felt familiar like wearing your dad’s old college t-shirt, like fitting into something you'd previously forgotten about. your parents recapped the last few months to you, as they told you about the family drama and what happened at christmas. you were only half listening, doing your best to keep up when you left your heart and mind in new york. you glanced at your parents, married for thirty years, been through their own fair share of struggles. you passively wondered if there was ever this crippling fear in their chests at the idea of loving someone else, or of even falling in love and the enormity of it.

you knew logistically you weren't the first person to fear the act of falling, but you felt so alone in it.

wasn't it crazy? humans had been falling in love for ages and yet you felt completely isolated in this feeling. you weren't the first woman to fall in love with her boss, with a single father, with an athlete. you probably weren't the first to fall in love with a man who was all of the above—

but god it felt like it.

the entire experience felt confining. you knew there were girls dating famous athletes, but they were models, or rich, or childhood sweethearts, or not as mentally fucked up as you currently felt. you were never gonna be sydney or grace or sofia or any of the other nice girls you’d met. you were a nanny, a girl who chose a useless major in a highly competitive city who couldn't handle the stress of a starbucks in new york city at 8am. then you’d gone and kissed mat and consequently felt lighter than you had in the weeks it’d been since you found out your ex cheated on you with the girl you lived with.

but as soon as it ended, you remembered seeing the rangers jersey discarded on your living room floor. you remembered the way your stomach dropped to your toes, how you wanted so badly to pretend it wasn’t happening, but the noises from your roommate’s bedroom were evidence enough.

the writing was in the stars, it was in the fucking clouds, on the fucking wall. every man you'd had been with prior, you'd realized, treated you like garbage. your high school boyfriend never texted or called you back at a reasonable time. your sophomore year of college boyfriend never fully committed, saying he was too busy during football season.

then there was jason who didn’t really show red flags until you started working for mat.

he’ll get bored of you.

“honey? you okay? you went quiet for a second.”

your mom’s voice snapped you out of whatever that mental spiral was.

you gave her your best convincing smile and nodded. “just thinking.”

“how’s that boyfriend of yours?” your dad asked. “jack? joseph?”

“jason?” you gritted out through your painfully tight smile.

your dad snapped and smiled. “that’s his name. how is he?”

“i wouldn’t know, we’re not together anymore,” you mumbled just loud enough for them to hear, but not loud enough for it to echo in your brain.

the car went silent, even as the radio crackled out some random eighties bop from when your parents were in college.

“are you okay?” your mom asked.

“i’m fine.”

day seventy-three

your parents didn't make you celebrate christmas as soon as you got into town. they, thankfully, waited a day before calling your entire extended family over to watch you open presents alone. you smiled and thanked each member for their corresponding present. you dutifully laughed at every joke and sipped at your glass of red wine in hopes that the acidity would distract you from heavier things.

like the texts from sydney asking if you were alright.

or the video from mat of ella playing with the stuffed hippo you got her. you'd watched it ten times just to hear her laugh that she definitely inherited from his childlike cackle. you couldn't help but see the scrunched up face of ella’s that was a carbon copy of her father’s. but even after all that, you still didn't have the heart to reply. what would you even say?

“aw she’s so cute! also sorry i kissed you and ran away?”

you were on your fourteenth watch of the video when he texted again.

mat: let me know when your flight is coming back into town, we’ll pick you up.

you locked your phone and took a sip of your wine. and when your cousin did a cartwheel in the middle of the living room and nearly knocked over the christmas tree? you smiled politely while her parents chided her while you tried to forget the similar stories mat’s parents told you about his childhood.

as the family members cleared out, you helped your parents clean up the common areas. you were in the kitchen with your mom loading the dishwasher when she asked the question you were dreading.

“when are you going back to new york?”

your hands nearly dropped the plate you were holding, but you recovered quickly. “i have to be back before the isles’ next roadie.” a non answer, but you didn't feel like pulling out your calendar and counting the days to see how close you were to facing the mess you left on the island.

“are you staying for new year’s?”

you didn't need to look at your calendar to know you'd already been gone for too long. you'd memorized mat’s schedule at the beginning of the season when you started working for him. his roadie started on new year’s eve.

when you did the dreaded math, you had maximum two days left before you had to head back and take care of ella like nothing had happened.

“i can’t, mat has a road trip that starts on new year’s eve.” you couldn't even look at her. “i’m sorry, mom.”

but she shrugged your apology off and hugged you from behind with a tight grip. “don't apologize, baby. i just wish you'd tell us what's going on.”

“there’s nothing going on—”

your mother said your name, a cross between gentle and chastising. “i was born at night, but not last night. i know you, i know when something’s wrong. if you don't want to talk about it, that’s fine. you're an adult. but don't lie and say you're okay.”

you nodded but didn't offer up any more information.

“when you're ready,” she said, rubbing your back. “when you're ready to talk, i’m here to listen.” your mom pressed a kiss to your cheek, squeezed your shoulders, and walked out of the kitsch, leaving you to gaze out the window over the sink.

day seventy-five

sydney picked you up from the airport at noon with a certain smile on her face that you couldn't place. the backseat was devoid of her kids, so you assumed they were with the nanny or matt was home already with the kids.

she did most of the talking, which you were thankful for. you still felt unsettled back on the island so soon. too soon, if anyone asked. there was nothing more that you wanted than to go back home and hide under the covers in your childhood bedroom, pretending that your biggest fears were monsters in the shapes of shadows from your closet doors.

you were only halfway paying attention. your thoughts were monopolized by the last memories you had before going to your parents’ house. the sound of ella’s laugh when she opened your gift, the warmth in your chest at the anders and grace’s christmas party because you felt so welcomed in by people you'd only known for a few months, the overwhelming unnamable emotion in your stomach at the photo album mat gave you, the capsizing undertow feeling of being seen and known, how mat’s lips felt against your own like every good thing you’d ever done was to make sure you deserved that moment.

you were floating in your own thought bubbles when sydney parked her car in the garage. your eyes didn't wander to the car parked in the street, or the reason why she brought you to her place instead of the one you shared with mat.

you weren’t thinking of any of that until you heard his laugh from the living room.

but your feet were already carrying you there, following sydney diligently like you always did. you stood there in the entrance of the living room, your bag still wheeled behind you.

he'd robbed you of all oxygen.

it was like a spotlight was on him and the nearly eleven month old baby in his arms. a closer look showed that ella was barely holding her eyes open, but she was clinging to her hippo like her life depended on it. 

she looked so small, curled into mat’s chest, but so big compared to when you first met her.

her father cheering loudly when he scored on marty, had her flinching awake. her brown eyes opened wide and by some act of grace (or maybe torture on your part) she made eye contact with you and whined. ella reached her hands out for you.

and who were you to deny her?

you ignored the feeling of his eyes on your face, ignored the way his mouth opened in your peripheral vision. instead, you picked up ella and bounced her as she tucked her head under your chin, ignoring the hazel eyes that were locked on your face.

“you're back,” were the first words mat said to you since you left his apartment that night. “how was your trip?”

you fussed over ella in your arms to keep him from seeing how your hands shook around him and vaguely registered that marty had paused the game. “it was fine,” you said. “how long did your family stay in town?”

“they left yesterday, told me to tell you goodbye.”

you nodded, unable to form any other words to keep the conversation going, so you walked towards the kitchen in hopes sydney would follow. she did, thankfully, and soon enough the sound of chel echoed through the downstairs.

“what was that?” sydney whispered. “you haven't seen him in a few days and that’s all you have to say?”

“what did you want me to say? ‘sorry i kissed you and ran away. hope your holiday was fun?’”

sydney sighed through her nose and placed her hands on her hips. “you’re gonna have to talk about it eventually.”

“and i get that, but i don’t want an audience when we talk about it.”

she nodded and looked to the side. “i just hate to see you two like this.”

“like what?”

“like you're strangers.”

a cleared throat kept you from replying, but it did have you turning your head to see mat leaned against the entryway of the kitchen. “i don’t mean to rush you, but i think we need to get ella home so she's in her crib for at least a portion of her nap.”

quickly you nodded and bid goodbye to sydney and, at the door, you smiled at marty as he opened the front door. mat had his hand on your suitcase and was already carrying it outside to his car like it weighed nothing, which it certainly was not light because you had to sit on it with your parents’ obese cat in your lap while your mom zipped it up.

mat loaded your suitcase, you strapped his child in her car seat. he got in the driver’s seat while you slid into shotgun.

and neither of you said a word.

not until you got about five minutes into the drive. it was almost like mat couldn't handle the quiet anymore. “we don’t have to talk about it after this, but i think we should at least acknowledge what happened, right?”

“we don't have to acknowledge it at all, really. it was unprofessional and crossed too many boundaries. i think it’s best if we just forget about it.”

you were too busy staring out the window, watching the buildings pass to see something like hurt flash in mat’s eyes. “why? why do we have to forget it?”

he will get bored of you.

you shook your head and continued to look out the window.

���no, i think i deserve an answer, a reason why you ran out of our apartment on christmas and didn’t say anything.”

“it’s nothing, mat.”

“it’s something if you won't even look at me.” he sighed and adjusted his grip on the steering wheel. judging by the white color of his knuckles, you guessed he'd only tightened his hold. “i just—” he cut himself off with a sigh and rubbed at his jaw with one hand. “do you still want to look after ella? because if you don't, i’ll need some time to find someone else—”

you flinched into the passenger window. “why would you think i wouldn't want to watch her?”

mat shrugged. “i don't know, you don't want to seem to be around me and considering she's my daughter, i just figured.”

“as long as you're okay with it, i’d like to keep nannying. but if you want me to find another place to stay—”

“don't worry about it, it won't be a problem.”

you nodded but didn't say a word for the rest of the ride home. not to worry though, neither did mat.

when you finally got back to the apartment, you grabbed your suitcase while he maneuvered ella out of her car seat and into his arms. neither of you spoke, not even as you went your separate ways as you got into the apartment. you split in the hallway with him going into ella’s nursery and you into your room.

you at least waited to hear the door shut behind you before your shoulders slumped and tears pricked at your eyes.

he’ll get bored of you. he’ll get bored of you. he’ll get bored of you. he’ll get bored of you. he’ll get bored of you. he’ll get bored of you. he’ll get bored of you. he’ll get bored of you. he’ll get bored of you. he’ll get bored—

i’ll need some time to find someone else. i’ll need some time to find someone else. i’ll need some time to find someone else. i’ll need some time to find someone else. i’ll need some time to find someone—

someone else. someone else. someone else. someone else—

a knock on the door startled you enough that you had to cover your mouth to muffle the noise that escaped your lips.

“you okay?” he asked.

you managed to clear your throat and squeak out a “mhm.” you didn't hear any movement, probably mat wondering if he should press the issue, but after a few moments, you could hear feet padding back down the hallway.

you should’ve unpacked, you should’ve cleaned your room from how you left it. you should’ve done a lot of things. but you took a shower where you cried the entire time. then you got in bed and wished you were in your parents’ house so you could smell the slightly burned sugar cookies your mom made and hear your dad’s disgruntled sighs from the living room when his football team didn't play well.

now you were sitting in a cold city that you used to adore, but it felt like the love had evaporated once you were shown how unlovable you were. jason cheated, mat suggested a replacement, maybe that’s all you were. maybe you were just the ikea couch that moved from apartment to apartment only to be replaced with a crate and barrel sofa when the owner got a house.

there was no telling how long time passed before mat knocked again. “tito’s coming over, did you want anything? he’s offering to pick something up.”

you cleared your throat yet again before speaking. “no, no i’m good.”

“you sure? he's getting pizza from borelli’s.”

your stomach growled but you ignored it. “i’m sure, thanks mat.”

the footsteps retreated, leaving you to your thoughts.

it wasn’t long before ella woke up, forcing you to leave your little cave you called a bedroom. she smiled when she saw you, all her four little baby teeth proudly on display. you pulled her out of her sleep sack and changed her diaper, all while her legs and arms were flapping around happily.

“did you have a good nap, ella bean?” she didn't say any intelligible words, mostly just babble, but you smiled anyway. “i bet, baby girl. do you wanna go see dada and uncle tito?”

her deep brown eyes lit up. her eyes were probably the only thing she got from her mom considering she was a carbon copy of mat.

once her diaper was changed, you buttoned her onesie and pulled her little pants back on before you carried her into the living room.

both mat and tito’s eyes lit up when they saw her. almost immediately, ella started kicking her legs and pushing away from you to go to her dad. instead of bringing her straight to mat, you let her down on the floor and watched as she crawled her way to him.

she’d gotten much faster in your absence, even if it was only for a few days. and to your joy, and maybe a little tweak of sadness, she pulled herself up on mat’s knees where he pulled her into his lap.

“how was practice?” you asked.

mat blinked at you. “we didn’t come from practice...”

“i know,” you replied. “but i didn't get to ask you earlier this morning, so i’m asking now.”

tito’s eyes bounce back and forth from you and mat, almost like he’s unsure of what to do.

mat shrugged. “it was fine, just a lot of bag skating.”

and given their performance a few nights ago, that wasn’t completely surprising.

you nodded and walked into the kitchen when the tension became too much. you gripped the cold counter and took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.

i’ll need some time to find someone else. i’ll need some time to find someone else. i’ll need some time—

“you okay?”

your eyes shot open and you spun around to see beau standing in the kitchen with a furrow between his brows.

“y-yeah, why?”

he jerked a thumb over his shoulder where mat was playing with ella on the living room floor, or at least you assumed he was, you couldn't see him from where you were standing. “you're joking, right? you seriously don’t know why? it’s been almost three months and i’ve never heard you talk to each other that way.”

“like what?”

“short.” when you said nothing, he continued. “what’s going on?”

“you mean he didn't tell you?”

“tell me what? that you kissed him and ran away and didn't speak to him while you were gone? yeah, he told me that. didn't tell me anything else though.”

beau wasn’t being cruel, you knew that. he was simply narrating what you had done in a matter of fact manner.

so why did it feel like someone was twisting a knife in your chest?

he sighed and placed his hands on his hips. “look, i’m not judging you, i just hate to see you both acting this way.”

“acting like what?”

“strangers. or maybe worse than strangers.”

 “what could be worse than strangers?”

“estranged lovers.”

a scoff left your lips before you could stop it. “one kiss hardly makes us estranged lovers.”

“no but it does make you two act like you don’t know how to be around each other.”

you refused to look at him, choosing instead to study the grain of the marble countertop. “he’s my boss, tito. i shouldn't have done it.”

he fixed you with a look you couldn't quite interpret. maybe it was similar to one sydney gave winnie after she asked her mom a million questions when none of them made sense and had no obvious connection between them. “you're lying to yourself if you think that’s all you are to him, if that’s all he is to you.”

you shrugged your shoulders. “that’s all we can be.”

“says who?”

no one, no one but you. you and that cruel voice in your head that sounds a lot like your ex. “we just can’t.”

“maybe you just need to be proven wrong. allow him to prove you wrong.”

day seventy-seven

“are you still coming to the game tonight?” mat called from his room while you sat in the living room watching ella play with the stacking cups before she got mad and knocked them over.

to say things had returned to normal would be a lie, but you and mat were good at pretending the elephant wasn’t in the room or even in the apartment building. “i’m not sure,” you replied loud enough for him to hear. “ella’s been kinda cranky all day, hasn’t napped well.”

on cue, ella knocked down the cups and screamed bloody murder. you cringed almost immediately. as soon as the scream was over, you could hear mat’s sigh from his bedroom. his voice sounded closer when he spoke again. “you think she’s getting sick?”

you glanced up and saw mat walking through the doorway. in his suit, he still managed to squat next to you. you quickly averted your eyes instead of staring at his thighs. “i don't know, she doesn’t have a fever, she could be teething or it could just be a sleep regression. all three are possible.”

mat leaned in and ruffled the hair on ella’s head. any attitude or frustration she had evaporated the second she saw her dad. she lifted her arms and babbled until he picked her up. he stood up to his full height and placed the back of his hand against her forehead. “does she feel warm to you?

you stood and replaced his hand with yours. you hummed. “maybe a little, but it’s also a little warm in here.”

mat nodded before he kissed the top of ella’s head. “just let me know if you plan on coming.”

“we’ll be there,” you said before you could stop yourself.

if you were a painter, you'd capture the look of mild surprise on mat’s face because it was equal parts endearing and handsome, you couldn't describe it in just words. “really?”

“yeah,” you said, a small smile on your face. “you’ll need your number one fans there.” and even if you doubted your permanence in his life, there was no doubt in your mind where he ranked in yours. “i mean,” you babbled. “aside from your parents and liana.”

mat chuckled a little. “you definitely rank higher than liana. you don't roast me as much as she does.”

“yeah well, she knows more about hockey than i do.”

his eyes looked into yours and you felt the vulnerability of being seen, of being observed through a microscope.

he’ll get bored of you—

“you should know that doesn't matter to me, it’s the fact that you show up.”

“i’ll keep showing up then,” you smiled. “even if i have no idea what’s going on.”

his smile matched your own. “i’ll come home and explain it to you then.”

you probably could’ve stared at him for eternity, his floppy hair and hazel eyes but ella screamed and wriggled around until mat put her back down on the floor, ending whatever moment you thought you were having.

he glanced at his wrist watch and cursed. “i gotta go or i’ll be late, you have the tickets right?”

“they're on my phone, you sent them yesterday.”

he nodded looking at you then ella, then back at you. “i’ll see you later, then. text me if something changes, i’ll check between periods.”

“you really shouldn't—”

“but i’m going to anyway!” he exclaimed before shutting the door behind him.

ella got a kick out of the uber ride to ubs, even from the comfort of her car seat. the driver was kind enough to play gracie’s corner, which was ella’s new musical obsession. she was giddy for once (because she’d been cranky all day) and didn't even protest when you put the headphones on her head as you entered the noisy arena.

you made your way down to the glass where sydney and grace were waiting with their kids. while it wasn’t your first time at a game with ella, it was your first time this close to the ice. mat had sent you tickets because the wags didn't rent a suite out for the game this time. which, in all honesty, was more than fine with you, experiencing a live game close up sounded more than fun.

the boys came out skating at a pace you couldn't dream of replicating. your eyes were as wide as ella’s as you both looked around, stunned.

“you okay?” sydney chuckled. “you look like a deer in headlights.”

you nodded. “they're just...really fast.”

grace and sydney laughed but nodded along with you.

after the initial lap of skating, matt and anders came over to say hi to their kids and wives. matt had a knowing look in his eye and skated away momentarily. maybe you were a little dumb for being surprised when mat, your mat (but not really) came up to the boards grinning ear to ear. 

ella, by an act of god, recognized him even with his helmet on (not that it covered his whole face, but you'd seen videos of babies freaking out when their dads shave so you weren't sure how she would react). she was flapping her arms and squealing, a nice change from the ear piercing scream she’d been giving you all afternoon.

you couldn't really hear what mat was saying, but you saw the happiness in his eyes, the matching grin he shared with his daughter. you didn't even realize you were staring at him until his eyes met yours. he gave you another award winning smile before grabbing a puck and tossing it over for a girl a few seats away from you.

before you realized the time, mat skated away from you so he could finish warming up. that, of course, didn't stop him from looking over in your general direction to look at ella who was enraptured by the entire experience.

the buzzer sounded shortly after and the game started.

ella made it about seventeen minutes into the first period before deciding she’d had enough. smiling apologetically to the other girls, you said, “sorry, the queen has decided it’s time for bed.”

“how're you getting home?” syd asked.

“uber,” you said.

“text us when you get home,” grace said.

you nodded and grabbed your things and placed ella in her car seat before heading up the numerous stairs to the lobby area of the arena. you sent a text to mat after you ordered your uber but before you walked outside, not wanting to stand out in the cold longer than you had to.

you: 

sorry to miss the game! the queen has said she’s had enough. we’re about to get a taxi.

you didn't expect him to reply soon. you managed to get an uber and head back to your shared apartment when you got a text back. 

mat:

call me when you get home.

before you could stop yourself, you furrowed your brows and replied.

you:

what if you’re in the game?

his reply was immediate.

mat:

call anyway, if i have time during the second intermission, i’ll call back. if not, i’ll see you at home.

as if on instinct, you smiled at your phone. you didn't even realize the uber arrived at your apartment building until the driver threw the car in park.

“thank you,” you said as you climbed out of the car and unhooked ella’s car seat.

the first thing you did upon entering the apartment was put ella and her car seat on the floor. the second was pull out your phone and call mat like he asked you to. it rang twice before your heard his voice on the other line.

“you home?”

you blinked. “you actually picked up?

he made a noise that sounded somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. “you're surprised?”

“you have a game to focus on.”

“this isn’t a lengthy conversation. i just needed to know that you got home alright.”

“well we’re home. you can stop stressing about us and go win a game instead.”

he cackled through the phone right before he said a quick bye and hung up.

you squatted down to ella’s eye level. she was dozing off in the car seat and you were already not looking forward to the tantrum she’d throw as you tried to get her out and into pajamas. a tired baby barzy was a cranky baby barzy.

just as expected, she started crying and rubbing her eyes when you picked her up. she cried even as you changed her diaper and into her pajamas. she cried through chicka chicka boom boom and the little blue truck which she usually loved. she cried up until the moment you put her in her sleep sack and into her crib.

once she was down, you came back into the living room and started cleaning up to the sound of mat’s game on the television. you still weren't an expert on hockey, but you did at least try to understand what was going on. the important thing was that the isles were winning by a goal.

mat didn't get home until closer to midnight. you were still up, watching carpet cleaning videos on your phone. maybe you should've done something more productive, like cracking open one of the fifty books stacked in piles in your room, but after all the screaming from ella, you just wanted to see a dirty carpet turn white.

“you're still up?” he asked, a slight note of surprise in his voice as he walked through the door.

you shrugged. “was waiting for my hockey debrief.” you watched as he sat his hockey back next to the door and ran a hand down his face. “congrats on the win, by the way.”

he crossed the room and plopped down on the sofa next to you and groaned. “i can’t even think about winning when my body hurts.”

“that’s what happens when you can't stay on your feet for more than half a shift.”

he chuckled a little. “not you too, i get enough shit from the guys.”

“if you want it to stop, you should stop falling down.”

abruptly, mat turned to you. “can you even skate?”

“no, but you can. you even get paid to do so. which is why it’s so surprising that you can’t stay on your feet.” he rolled his eyes but there was a smile on his face. “what?” you smiled back. “what is it?”

“nothing,” he said. “i’m just glad we’re cool again.”

day eighty-nine

you felt like a zombie, simply put. ella was eleven months old and shouldn't be going through a sleep regression, yet she was up on and off all night. you knew that it was because she’d learned a new skill, one you couldn't wait to show mat when he got home.

part of you was nervous that he would be upset that he wasn't there for it. last roadie, he came home to ella cruising along furniture and taking steps while she pushed her walker or held your hands.

it took him two days to come to terms with it.

so you sat on the couch and watched ella play in the ball pit playpen with her stuffed hippo. any other time, you might have cleaned up after her, picking up the balls she’d thrown out (because that was yet another thing she’d learned how to do), but you were doing your best to keep your eyes open.

it was the rattling of the doorknob that had you and ella perking up and looking towards the doorway. you could hear fumbling and what you assumed was mat’s hockey bag dropping to the ground.

despite that, it was still a moment or two before you saw mat walk into the living room with a....iced latte in hand?

you furrowed your brows. “what—”

“dada!” ella screamed, flapping her arm that wasn't holding her hippo, doing her best to scramble to her feet without letting go of her stuffie.

mat nearly dropped everything in his hands, including the coffee, which you were still hung up on, because he drank black coffee, not whatever light colored drink that was in his left hand.

“did she—?” he looked to you, hazel eyes wide as the sun. “did she say—”

“dada dada dada dada,” ella kept babbling, her voice only getting happier the closer he came to her.

“hey sweet girl,” he cooed, bending down and scooping her up with one arm. his voice sounded thick, and when you glanced at his face, his eyes looked a little shiny. “i missed you. did you keep mama bear up all night?”

“how did you know—”

“you replied to my text at 2am. you're usually asleep before midnight.” he said it so casually that you almost didn't clock the deeper meaning behind his words. he didn't even look at you, his gaze solely focused on his daughter. “how long has she been saying dada?” he asked.

you smiled. “yesterday, i got it on video. she likes to watch interviews of you sometimes and when i turned an older one on, she said it. i meant to send it to you after it happened, but i figured you'd wanna hear it in person, and if she didn't say it when you walked in, i’d show you the video later.”

“this was much better, thank you,” he said, finally looking you in the eye. then, like a lightbulb went off over his head, he reached his hand out with the iced coffee. “this is for you, figured you'd want coffee after staying up all night.”

you thanked him and hesitantly, took a sip. pleasantly surprised was a phrase you weren't used to using, especially when it came to your coffee order. there were seldom people in your life who could remember how much sugar, cream, and syrup that you liked in your coffee.

jason never remembered, said it was too complicated.

so when you took a sip and it was the exact flavor profile you'd grown accustomed to, you almost started crying.

“did i get it right?” he asked. “i wrote it down in my phone from a month ago just in case. if it’s wrong, ella and i can go grab another one—”

but your smile cut off any rambling left. “it’s perfect. how was your roadie?”

day ninety-two

mat was gracious enough to lend you his car for the day. he didn't have a game, just a morning skate which meant you didn't have to uber to storytime at the library.

it did mean, however, that you had to go pick him up because tito was busy after practice.

you were anxious initially because you had no idea how you'd get into the practice facility, and you weren’t keen on keeping the car running in this economy. thankfully, right as you were walking towards the building, dobson was walking out. he smiled and said a quiet good morning while he held the door for you and ella.

“barzy’s still on the ice,” he said. “should be finishing up any minute.”

“still? is it a punishment?”

dobson shrugged. “i think he's just trying to tighten up his shot.” he cleared his throat. “do you know how to get to the rink?”

you shrugged. “i'm sure i can figure it out.”

which you did, it was pretty self explanatory, though the signage definitely helped. you walked out to the rink and couldn't help the smile on your face when you saw mat zooming around at a ridiculous speed. mesmerized was the only word you could think to use to describe both you and ella. both your heads followed him around the rink.

which meant you had the perfect view of mat absolutely eating it and slamming into the boards behind the goal.

the laugh that burst from your mouth caught you off guard. given how mat flinched, you would say it caught him off guard too.

but you couldn't help it, the sight of him flailing and slamming into the boards had tears forming in your eyes from the sheer force of your laughter.

“oh my god,” you huffed out between laughs. “you're a professional!” you didn't need to say anymore, he knew what you were implying.

mat stuttered out your name. “y—you’re here?”

“i told you i’d pick you up, mat,” you got out through giggles. you walked closer to the ice, stopping at the gate. he hadn't gotten up off the ice, his legs were spread as he sat there. you couldn't place why, but it was still insanely funny to you. as you kept laughing, ella started too, letting out a loud baby cackle that echoed across the ice.

that seemed to kick mat into gear because he stood up and skated towards the two of you, a dopey smile on his face. you moved ella off your hip and in front of your body, holding her back against your chest so she could fully face mat.

“hey ella bean,” he smiled. he tossed his stick over the boards by the bench and reached for her.

“dada dada dada—” as she kept giggling and babbling, you watched as the smile on mat’s face got wider and wider.

you felt your heart lurch into your throat as mat took her out on the ice and started skating. “are you sure that’s safe?” you called out.

mat’s scoff echoed throughout the rink. “i’m a professional.”

“a professional at ending up on your ass.”

while supporting ella with one arm, mat flipped you off with the other hand as he skated around at a moderate pace. something between a scoff and a laugh burst from your mouth like the fireworks in that one katy perry music video.

mat’s head snapped to look at you, an expression on his face that you couldn't place, you'd never seen it before. he skated back to you, with ella still giggling.

“what?” you asked. “why're you looking at me like that?”

he shrugged. “i just like your laugh, is all. you should do it more.”

feeling shy, you looked down at your nails, you really needed to get a manicure done. “haven’t had much to laugh about lately.” the anxiety you had earlier didn't miraculously disappear after your conversation with beau, but up until this moment, you hadn't realized how quiet your mind had been.

a few weeks ago, it was consumed with jason’s words.

now you couldn't stop thinking about mat.

“well, i’ll gladly bust my ass over and over if you keep laughing like that.”

you couldn't help yourself, another laugh forced its way out of your mouth as you looked at him.

day one hundred and one

deep down in your bones, you could feel the exhaustion from yesterday seeping into today. it was a good exhaustion, though. one caused by brunch with grace, sydney, and alexa, a playdate with sofia and romanov’s daughter, deep cleaning the apartment while ella napped, and a nice walk in the park before mat’s game. 

he got home last night after a short roadie. it was a successful trip, with them winning more than they lost. you knew ella would be happy to see him when he woke up, all she talked about was “dada,” though that just might be the excitement of saying her favorite and only word.

for now, though, it was just you and ella sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast. well, you were eating your cereal, she was spreading avocado around on her high chair. still, she was eating her scrambled eggs, so you couldn't really complain.

the two of you had moved into the living room with ella playing with her hippo and building blocks while you watched the newest episode of abbott elementary.

“is this a new one?” you jumped at the sound of mat’s morning voice and ignored the sensation in your stomach when you saw him rubbing at his eyes, bed head and all. 

“huh?”

mat opened his mouth, but at the sound of her father’s voice, ella turned around and screamed before crawling towards him. he didn't even hesitate to scoop her up and keep her cradled between his left arm and his chest.

“i said,” he started. “is this a new episode? i haven't seen this one yet.”

you blinked. “aren't they all new episodes to you?”

“what do you mean?”

did he hit his head or something? “mat, i've never seen you watch a single episode of anything that wasn't hockey highlights or espn...”

he shrugged. “that's because you're not with me on my roadies.”

it was your turn to ask, “what do you mean?”

mat rounded the couch and plopped down next to you, close enough to not be awkwardly apart but far enough that his leg wasn't touching yours, regardless of how much you wanted him to. “i started watching abbott on the road.”

“why would you do that?”

the tips of his ears turned pink. maybe it was warm in the apartment because the idea that you could cause him to blush wasn't something you were able to comprehend at eight in the morning. “you said you loved the show, i wanted to see what the hype was about.”

“you watched it because i told you about it?” it didn't make sense, no one had ever taken your recommendations seriously enough.

he wouldn't make eye contact with you. “beau kept falling asleep and i was tired of watching film and it popped up and you thought it was good so...”

you smiled to ease the anxiety on his face. “how far did you get?”

“i’m all caught up, except for this episode. i caught up on the roadie.”

“well,” you started. “you’re more than welcome to join us. if you want breakfast, i can pause it and wait.” but you remembered he was a professional hockey player, he probably had somewhere to be. “oh wait, when do you have to be at the rink?”

he checked his phone. “it’s not for a few hours because we got in so late. i’m yours in the meantime.”

you quickly turned your attention back to the screen so he couldn't see the flush on your face.

day one hundred and nine

it was a bad brain day. you couldn't explain it. you woke up and your mood soured. ella only marginally improved it, not even her giggles and smiles, as she stood in her crib babbling as you walked towards her, could fully fix your mood.

there was no rhyme or reason for it either.

well—

that wasn’t completely true.

you'd slept like shit last night. no twenty something should still be having nightmares, god you felt embarrassed just saying the word. but your brain didn't care about shoulds, shouldn’ts, and age because you woke up pouring sweat after jason berated you for what felt like hours.

he’ll get bored of you ringing in your head like church bells on sunday.

it was made worse when, to soothe the anxiety creeping in, you stupidly got on instagram. you should've known better, never in the history of the internet has going on social media improved your mood, especially instagram.

but there you were, staring at the instagram stories of the wags of the isles. pilates, jogs, dinner parties, team events you were too shy to go to. then you went to their feeds, wag jackets and happy families and all the things you wouldn't be a part of. they were rich, had a cool job, a happy nuclear family. and you were what? a nanny? you were a scandal waiting to happen.

he’ll get bored of you turned into it’s just a matter of time until mat finds a replacement. then, because your mind absolutely hated you, it would seem, mat’s own words echoed back to you.

and you knew it was out of context, he’d proven it to you over the last few weeks. but all you could hear was:

i’ll need some time to find someone else.

natalie was jason’s someone else.

who would mat’s be?

which was how you ended up crying into the pan of scrambled eggs. “sorry ella bean,” you managed to get out. “these will be mine, i’ll make you some fresh ones.” you plated the eggs and turned to set them aside on the island behind you, but you weren't expecting mat to be standing there in a white t-shirt and sweats.

no one should look that good in pajamas.

he’ll get bored of you.

“you okay?” and before you could even reply, mat was moving closer. “are you crying? what happened?”

you shook your head. “nothing.”

“it’s not nothing if you're crying into breakfast food.” he was right in front of you now. “c'mon, mama, you can talk to me.”

and you weren't sure why that one word did you in. “that’s not my name,” you huffed out.

“huh?” mat stepped closer and placed his large hands on your arms. “what’re you talking about—”

you stepped back into the counter, trying to get out of his hold. “‘mama’ isn’t my name. i’m not ella’s mom. i’m no one’s mom.”

his brows pulled together, his lips turned down into a frown. “i wasn’t asking you to be her mom, if you want me to find—”

“someone else, right?” you said. “you're just waiting to find someone else? everyone always is.” and it just burst from you. like it had been bubbling for twenty something years and this was the release. “i'm never enough for anyone. was i just a placeholder until she got a real mom? i can be a nanny but nothing more, right?”

“whoa, where is this coming from?” mat cut in, immediately breaking up whatever tirade you were going on. “who’s telling you these things?”

you wanted to scream. “you are! you told me you'd find someone else—”

“—if you didn't want to do this anymore! you weren't talking to me, and didn't seem very interested in doing this,” he gestured to himself and ella, “—at all.” he sighed, like he was calming himself. “i thought we were doing better these last few weeks. what changed?”

you shook your head. “just had a bad night.”

“please,” he begged. “please just tell me the truth.” another moment passed and you didn't say a word, you wouldn't even look at him. “was it jason?” you shifted on your feet. “what did he say?”

for a moment, you thought about shrugging it off, changing the subject. but you were so tired of bottling up all the negative thoughts, the buzzing bees in your head, you just let it all out. “he said you'd get bored of me,” you admitted, feeling a little embarrassed that you were so upset about it. “that i was just a nanny and once you realized you couldn't fuck me, you'd fire me and kick me out.”

you looked up just in time to see mat’s jaw clench. he opened his mouth to say something but shut it just as quickly. ella squawked from her seat so you quickly grabbed her out of her high chair and started bouncing her. she was probably hungry, but she seemed content just being in your arms.

“you know that's not true, right?” he said after a moment, his voice tight.

“i know i should believe you but the buzzing bees in my head, they...” you didn't finish.

“they what?”

“i’m not like them, mat. i don't have what they have.”

“who? you're not like who?”

“the other wags. you're gonna want someone who goes to games and has a car and can function in life without overthinking every little thing and...” 

he was shaking his head, his hazel eyes searching yours, like he was looking for the words to say, but couldn't find them. “who told you that's what i want?”

“everyone wants that, mat. i’m just—” ella started leaning and reaching for the eggs you cried into so you moved them out of reach.

after a moment of quiet, of ella just contentedly bouncing in your arms, mat spoke. “i didn't watch abbott elementary just because you said it was good, i watched it because i wanted you to talk to me,” he said, not looking away from your face once. “i wanted us to be us again and if watching a show i wasn’t familiar with meant i could talk to you, i would do it.”

his eyes darted away for a moment, a blush covering his face. but he pushed on anyway. “it turned out to be a really funny show so it wasn't like a burden or anything but i would’ve watched it even if it was garbage because it was something that you liked.”

“mat—”

“no, please let me finish.” he took in a deep breath and looked you dead in the eye. “i would've watched the scott’s tots episode of the office on repeat if you told me that's what you wanted to do.”

mat took a step closer to you, just a foot between you now. “beau said you didn’t believe that i could want you, sydney said it was because of something your piece of shit ex said. so i’ve spent the last few weeks trying to prove to you that i love you, that i love you right now, just like this. even with the million buzzing bees in your head telling you i can’t, i’m telling you i can and i do.”

the buzzing in your head stopped. you couldn't hear anything but—

i love you right now, just like this.

“there is no ‘someone else.’ there’s no one else i could want because you're here.”

“you're not gonna get bored of me?” you asked, kinda hating how weak your voice sounded, but not enough to be embarrassed about it. not when mat was standing so close to you, not when he was saying the things he was saying.

he smiled and shook his head. “i'm not gonna get bored of you.”

“even if i feel like a thursday in october?”

he blinked. “i don't know what that means, but yeah. even if you feel like a thursday in october.”

there was a part of you who wanted to believe him, who wanted to kiss him, but you still hesitated.

you hesitated until you thought about how mat called you every night on his first roadie away from ella, how he admitted that he missed her and kept waking up in the middle of the night expecting her to be down the hall, but how he felt safe knowing that she was with you. you thought about how he waited for you to call when you got into your apartment and immediately helped you move out when you found jason and natalie in bed together. you thought about how his family loved you, gave you christmas presents. you thought about the kiss, you thought about how he called matt when you left the apartment, how he asked if you had a jacket, how you were getting to the airport.

you hesitated until you realized he stole all the oxygen from your lungs. how you knew nothing about hockey prior to him and now it felt like your entire life. you thought about the family skate he'd invited you to in a month and how you dreamt of holding his hand in front of everyone. you thought about how nice it would be to wear his name on your back and know that he was yours at the end of the night.

you hesitated until you knew all the girls from his past, all the boys from yours, had led you both to this moment, standing in his kitchen in your pajamas with his child in your arms while he bared his heart to you.

“you promise just as i am right now?”

he nodded. “i promise, baby, i love you yesterday, right now, and tomorrow.”

you smiled, your heart racing, but your mind was quiet, quiet except for four words. “i love you, mat.”

“oh thank god,” he muttered before placing his hands on your cheeks and pulling your lips to his. he kissed you first, but you chased his lips when he tried to pull away.

it was only the need for air and ella’s screaming that pulled you two away from each other. “are you hungry, baby?” you asked.

“did mama not feed you fast enough?” mat teased, grabbing her from you and tossing her in the air a few times to get her laughing.

“mat,” you groaned.

“it’s okay though,” he said looking you dead in the eye, the widest smile you'd seen on his face. ella looked at you too, both of their faces scrunched up in that way you loved. “we love you anyway.”

mat barzal. nearly everyone in new york was obsessed with him, you knew him by the way he kissed you in the morning, when he got home from practice, before you went to bed. you knew him as the man who scooped his daughter up and tickled her just to hear her laugh. you knew him by the strong arms that would wrap around your waist.

you knew him by the way he loved you.

one hundred and nine days later, you loved him.

[tkwrites]

Happy Birthday, Quinn - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Title: Happy Birthday, Quinn - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts

Summary: In an effort to get Quinn something he can’t get for himself, and with her friends’ encouragement, Sarah does something she never imagined she’d do before. When they finally celebrate his birthday together, Quinn opens several gifts he never expected. 

Warnings: It’s mostly fluff, but there is some anxiety about being in new, uncomfortable situations and some suggestive themes, but no actual smut.

Word Count: 2,700

Comments: Happy birthday to Quinn! 

I’ve been working on this piece for quite a long time. At least six months, tweaking it here and there to get the right themes and wording. I saved it for Quinns birthday because I can’t think of a better day for it to come into the world.

If you enjoyed this, please let me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing. 

Happy Birthday, Quinn

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

“What do you give the guy who can get whatever he wants?” Sarah asked.

Emma paused, thoughtful. She knew what she would get Brady, but while they were best friends, he and Quinn were so different. 

“What if you gave him some photos?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Like a boudoir shoot or something. So he can have some really great pictures of you while he’s on the road.” 

Sarah felt herself flush. 

“It’s just an idea,” Emma emphasized. “Is there any lingerie he really likes?” 

“Not really,” she started, then it came to her, “there is this bikini he kind of went wild over this summer.” 

“Perfect,” Emma beamed. “You could do a beach photoshoot for him.” 

“I don’t know… Are you sure it's something he would even like?”

Emma gave her a deadpan look over the FaceTime connection even as she adjusted the baby. “You have a boyfriend who travels away from you for weeks at a time. You don't think he'd like having some pretty pictures of you while he's gone?” 

Sarah snorted, “okay. I get it. But where do I even start with that? Just have my roommates take some pictures?” 

“No!” Emma laughed, “ask one of the wives or girlfriends. They’ll know some photographers that will keep things quiet so it can be a little more professional.” 

Just as Emma predicted, when Sarah called Bella the next day, she did know someone.

As they discussed details, she even suggested they could go to her Uncles’ to use the beach across the street from their house. 

“Are you joking?” Sarah asked. “He’d have my hide if I showed up to take bikini photos for my boyfriend.”

Bella laughed and said she had some friends with private beaches and would get back to her if they could use one of theirs. 

When she called back just a few hours later, Sarah was a little surprised. 

“Thanks so much for your help with this,” she said.

“Of course. I love you, and I love Huggy, and I love finally seeing him really happy.” 

After they set up the details, including Bella booking a hair stylist and a makeup artist, which Sarah thought was a little extreme, Bella asked, “Do you want me and Meghan to come for moral support?” 

“That would be really nice,” Sarah said, breathing a sign of relief. “I feel like I have no idea what I'm doing here. I'm just trying to give Quinn something he'll really like for his birthday.” 

A week later, they drove to Bella’s friend's “cottage.” It was really a mansion, but who was she to judge?

The boys were in Victoria for training camp, so it was the perfect time to sneak away.

When Sarah came out in the bikini, Bella wolf whistled. “No wonder Huggy went wild for you in this. You look insane.” she said, looking her over approvingly. “He’s going to lose his mind over these photos.”

It took a long time for Sarah to feel comfortable. She felt too on display - too exposed, and like she was pretending to be something she wasn’t. She wasn’t a model. She didn’t know how to pose for photos or turn on sex appeal at the drop of a hat. 

As if sensing how stuck in her head she was, Meghan offered some support.

“Sarah,” she said, walking down the beach to her, “you’re taking photos for a man that’s already head over heels for you. No one else is going to see them but you and him - and us very briefly.”

She nodded, feeling a little better. She was doing this for Quinn. She could do this for Quinn. 

Taking the photographers advice, she posed and made eye contact with the camera. 

“There you go,” Bella encouraged. 

“Rock more onto your knees,” Heather, the photographer, instructed. “Good. Chin up a bit? Great. Now give me some of those sexy bedroom eyes.” 

Sarah pushed her hesitations aside, thought about Quinn on the other side of that camera, and tried to convey how much she wanted him. 

“Hot damn!” Meghan yelled. “You’ve got me hot and bothered, Sarah. Quinn doesn’t stand a chance.” 

Her exclamation sent Sarah into a fit of giggles that took her quite a while for her to come down from.

Once she’d stopped laughing and settled back into the situation, they got a ton more photos, including a few of her, Bella and Meghan, the latter two in their street clothes, while Sarah still sported her bikini, laughing as the surf swirled around their ankles. 

Not for the first time, Sarah understood how being a WAG really could be a support group. 

They spent the evening of his birthday together at home, ordering in from Quinn's favorite restaurant. 

By the time they got to opening gifts, Sarah was feeling nervous and giddy. She left a small pile of presents on the table in front of the gray suede couch along with a bouquet of flowers because “men hardly ever get flowers, but you like them.” It was full of frothy looking, multi colored blooms mixed with greenery. He found he did like them. No one had ever given him flowers before.

He opened a set of cufflinks shaped like tiny bombs. They were attached to a card that read, Love is the Bomb. It made him laugh, and he told her, truthfully, that he loved them. 

“They’re made from recycled landmines cleared out of Laos from the Vietnam War,” she explained. “I know you really liked that Fields of Fire book. I thought you might like the connection,” she added. 

“That’s really cool,” he said, touched. He rarely wore french cut dress shirts, but now that he had a pair of unique cufflinks, maybe he would wear the ones he did have a little more. 

“Thank you,” he said, leaning over to press a kiss to her lips. 

“You’re welcome.”

Then, he unwrapped a vibrator. 

Raising one eyebrow, he told her, “I don’t think this is a gift for me.” 

“Let me explain,” she said, reaching for the box. 

She worked the hot pink, U-shaped device out of the packaging and turned it on. “It’s bluetooth and app enabled,” she said, pulling out her phone so she could connect the devices.

“Okay.” 

“Give me your phone,” she said, holding out her hand. 

He did, and she put in the code to unlock it before downloading an app — she had to hand it back to him to approve the purchase — and linking his phone to the toy.

“Now, anytime I turn it on and connect my phone, it’ll send you an alert.” 

“Okay.”

“And then you can control it.”

Realization lit his face, “oh, so I could be across the room or something?” 

“Or across the country,” she said with a mischievous grin. 

“Wait. For real?” 

Sarah nodded. “The reviews from long distance couples are all really good.”

“I wish we had it this summer,” he said, picking up the toy. It whirred to life in his palm when he tapped the button on his phone.

“That’s what gave me the idea.”

An eager expression took over his face. “Can we go try it?”

“Hold on, Romeo, I have one more gift for you.”

Tearing his eyes from the buzzing pink contraption, Quinn found Sarah biting her lip and looking at him, unsure. He’d never seen her so nervous. He wondered if she might be getting ready to do some kind of strip tease. 

Excitement fizzed in his stomach. 

Instead, she reached behind her, pulling out a small silver picture frame.  

“What’s this?” he asked, taking it from her. It held blank black glass.

“It’s a digital picture frame,” she explained. “It’s not so much the gift as what’s on it.” 

Quinn felt his eyebrows knit together. “I don’t understand.” 

“Just,” she reached over and held down the power button. 

An involuntary noise, something between a gasp and a groan, gurgled in Quinn's throat when the frame booted up. 

It showed Sarah, on the beach in that fucking black bikini, posing like she was on the cover of a magazine. She was laughing as she swept her wind blown hair away from her face. 

All those intense, lusty feelings from the cabin crashed over him. It wasn't as good as the real thing, of course, but God, if it didn't make him feel things.

“Sarah,” his voice sounded breathy - shallow and needy.

The photo faded into another. Still, that goddamn bikini, still the beach, but a different pose. This time, she was sporting a cocky smile, like she knew he would like it. 

He did. He couldn’t believe it. 

The slideshow continued on, all of the photos were on the same beach, in the same bikini. In some, she was standing, others laying down. There was even a short, looping video, or live photo, or whatever it was, of her crawling toward the camera - never breaking eye contact. 

His tongue felt weighted with longing. 

When the last photo de-pixelated, his eyes blew wide. 

Holy. 

Fuck.

She was kneeling in the sand, knees spread as the water raced up the beach around her.

She had this sultry look in her eyes as they looked straight into his soul. Her lips were parted, just slightly, as if she was waiting to be kissed. 

“I thought you could take the pictures on the road with you,” she said quietly. 

When he tore his eyes away from her face, they caught on her hand, fisted into the wet sand, almost as if she were holding herself back.

A bolt of energy rippled up his stomach, making it flutter and twist in longing.

Looking up from the frame, he met Sarah's eyes and blinked a few times, trying to pull himself back to the present.

“I hope It's not too cheesy or anything,” she said shyly. The photos were returned long before Quinn's birthday came around, and Sarah blushed every time she looked at them. She had no idea she could look like that. It was proof that the right photographer, lighting, and positioning could do wonders. 

“It's…” His voice croaked, and he had to clear his throat. This was honestly something he never would have expected from Sarah. 

He cleared his throat again. “It's - I don't even know what to say,” he confessed. 

“That bad?” she asked, voice hesitant  

“No!” It came out too loud. “It’s — fuck.” He ran a hand into his hair. He didn't know what to say. He was in shock. “I mean, I can't believe…” 

“You're not making any sense.”

He didn’t have enough blood in his brain to reason properly.

Finally, he managed to get his thoughts in order. “I love it. It's like you gave me my own Swimsuit Edition, except it’s you instead of some model I don't care about.”

Her shoulders relaxed. 

“Were you worried I wouldn't like it?” 

“No, not really. Like, I knew objectively you would, but I've never done anything like this before.” 

The fact that she did it for him burrowed into his heart and rioted around his mind.

“I was a little surprised,” he admitted.

“Emma suggested it,” Sarah confessed. 

Quinn made a mental note to tell her thank you.

The shock of the photos pulled his mind completely from everything else. He didn’t even notice Sarah had picked up the vibrator, turned it off, and nestled it back into its box. 

“Do you want some dessert?” she asked, standing. “I got some of those chocolate from Gem you like.” Normally, she would have bought him a cake, but he tried not to eat carbs during the season. So fruit and chocolate would have to do.

Beaming, Quinn pulled her into his lap, “you’re spoiling me.”

“You deserve to be spoiled on your birthday,” she said, turning to brush her lips over his. 

He fell into the kiss, glad to finally be touching her. 

“So what do you think about that dessert?” she asked when he broke away to nuzzle his nose under her ear.

Quinn sucked in a deep breath of her perfume before blowing on her neck, making her squirm. “I think I have dessert right here,” he murmured, tightening his grip on her waist. 

She snorted. 

His hands wandered up to her chest, feeling the curves of her breasts in his palms. “What kind of chocolate did you get?” he asked. 

“A few,” she said, leaning into him, “I got that dark mint one you liked, and the rum one, and some new ones. I don’t really remember. I’m pretty sure one has peanut butter.” They’d discovered the chocolate shop while wandering the city together. Made with all local, organic ingredients, they were delicious, and though not necessarily healthy, it was better for Quinn to eat a few pieces of chocolate than cake. “I’ll go get them.”

Coming back upstairs with the chocolates, Sarah slid the open box onto the table. Quinn was looking at the picture frame again, shaking his head gently as if he couldn’t believe it. 

“Here, I think this one is pistachio,” she said, picking up a chocolate with green stripes on the top, “or maybe it's matcha?” 

He took a bite of the proffered candy, his eyes fluttering closed at the sweet and salty flavor. 

“Pistachio,” she declared after putting the rest of it in her mouth and licking off the chocolate that had melted on her fingers. 

He hummed in agreement, eyes caught on her tongue. 

“Oh, before I forget,” she pulled a USB drive from her pocket and handed it to him.

“What’s this?” 

“The pictures are on that.” 

A relieved breath escaped his lips. 

“You didn’t think I was just going to make you take that frame around, did you?”

“I don’t know," he said, laughing, "I didn’t think...” 

“You can put them on your phone or whatever,” she said. 

“Can I…” he paused, mentally looping through slideshow again, “do you mind if I use them as my phone background?”

“They're your gift, and it's your phone,” Sarah said instead of voicing her concern that someone other than him might catch a glimpse of her like this. She trusted that Quinn wouldn’t go around showing them off to other people. 

She picked up the mint chocolate and took a bite. When she offered him the other half, he took her fingers in his mouth to get every sweet drop. 

A week later, Quinn, Conor, and Brock were at a restaurant in Winnipeg. Each of them had their phone face up on the table in front of their dinner plate.

Quinns screen lit up. 

“You didn’t turn off your notifications? Rookie mistake Hughes.” 

Quinn scoffed, “it doesn’t count if you turn off your notifications.” 

“Of course it counts,” Conor argued.

“Why would you touch your phone if it’s not going off, dipshit?”

“I think he’s got a point,” Brock admitted with a defeated sigh. 

“Do you have yours off too?” Quinn asked. 

Brock shrugged. 

“You have to turn them back on. We have to be on a level playing field here.”

The other men reached for their phones, grumbling. 

Quinn’s went off again as they put theirs back down. 

“Is that Sarah?” Conor asked, craning his neck to look at the photo.

“Yeah, why?” he asked, resisting the urge to pick it up. Whoever touched their phone first had to pay for dinner. 

The lock screen was the photo of Sarah laughing, trying to tame her hair as it blew in the wind. 

After looking through all the pictures several times, Quinn had decided this was his favorite. He could almost hear her laughing whenever he saw it. Plus, he didn’t want anything too racy where anyone else could see it. He kept those for himself. 

“Is that the photoshoot Meg helped her with?” 

“I don’t know?” he said. “She did it for my birthday.” It felt a little like bragging – which he was, if he was honest with himself – to say it out loud.  

“Yeah, that’s it,” Brock said. “Bells told me about it during training camp. She and Meg helped Sarah set it up.”

“Oh,” Quinn said, not quite sure what else to say. The fact that she’d reached out for help so she could do this for him, even when she was uncomfortable, meant the world to him. 

“I wish Meg’d taken bikini photos for me while they were at it,” Conor mumbled. 

Quinn felt a smile beam over his face. 

“You are one lucky man, Huggy.”

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[blackmoonoracle]

PAC - LOVE UPDATES & ADVICE

For singles & those in relationships/situations

PILE ONE

SINGLES:

You may have someone interested in you that doesn't know how to approach you romantically! It seems like a secret admirer, someone who watches from afar. For some of you this could be someone a bit older than you, it could also be a coworker or boss! It feels like there's a lot of admiration and nurturing energy coming from this individual. They may see you as very hardworking and possibly even unfairly self critical? This is definitely a huge secret, I see that this person WANTS to come forward but feels nervous to do so. Almost like they may be very shy? This is definitely earthy energy here. I also heard "capricorn & aquarius" so even if they're an air sign or some other sign they have earthy qualities to their character. This is an individual who may also have not so good self esteem. They may also be a late bloomer of sorts? Even if they are older it could be that this person has a deeply private nature. I also heard perverse. LOOOL. wild.

If you know who this is and feel the same way, I feel like you are very irritated just waiting and waiting. I'm not saying they won't come, however I am saying- that this individual may never have the inner strength to approach you. Be unapologetically expressive, if you feel the need to say something and you feel comfortable doing so then say it. If you feel like you're tired of waiting and vague back and forth flirting walk away girl! You deserve to have someone with enough inner strength to just approach you and make you feel like a prize! If you're the masculine, or brooding earthy energy reading this! Then you absolutely need to make a move. Stop worrying about whether you're good enough, rejection is part of life. If you end up being rejected then it is what it is. You live and let live, it is not the end of the world! You will regret having never taken action. Don't live in this isolated bubble forever.

TAKEN/SITUATION:

There is a need for some introspection in this pile! I'm not seeing anything bad, I'm just seeing that communication is super important and that you may struggle with it. I see here where there is an intention and desire to communicate, but I also see where there's a lot of mental anxiety regarding communication. I keep hearing something about picking yourself apart. I feel like there's a lot of really intense self criticism here. Which is also something I picked up for the singles in pile one. So that's an interesting consistency. Anyways, it's important for you to maybe be more relaxed in this connection. Not everything needs to be so deep, and you don't have to be so harsh on yourself. However, you absolutely are learning how to communicate more effectively. There needs to be more practical application of the thoughts and ideas you have. Like actually putting what you think and what you feel out there to be examined by the other party. It seems like you feel like you're above your own emotions? smfh, if I could roll my eyes at you I would. I promise you no one is above their own emotions. It looks like you need to work on a tendency to emotionally repress. All of this internal conflict you experience literally can be solved by communicating openly. I feel that there is a sense of arrogance regarding communicating emotions. Like you just don't know how to comfortably do it without feeling disgustingly vulnerable almost. It's like you just want to remove yourself from that state of being. If you just open up there will be a lot more success in your relationships of all kinds I'm seeing. Business, Romantic, Friendship. Etcetera.

PILE TWO

SINGLES:

Okay, we have 2 separate messages here for you guys.

So, some of you are manifesting your perfect person. Others are in a state of limerence. So, let's see, I'm gonna start with the manifestors. I'm seeing here that you have kind of pulled back, and pulled in all of your energy from an individual who seemed to be taking it all up and wasting your time. GOOD for you. I'm proud of you. So, it seems in my opinion that you are in a deep state of manifesting your desires and focusing on yourself and what you truly desire in life. Now, for the flip side. You guys are in deluluville, take a step back and ask yourself if you are putting this person on a pedestal to fill a void. What can you do right now to come back to yourself and feel more connected with your needs. Have you spent time with friends recently? Done any pampering self care? These things might be able to help you feel more secure and pull you out of that state of projection. I'm seeing that the advice for both piles here is to get out of this dreamy energy and start showing up in your physical life. Manifestation is great, but if you're not taking physical action how are your manifestations going to come to fruition?

You're being asked to be present in the world around you, and to remove yourself from this constant state of daydreaming!

TAKEN/SITUATION:

I feel like you need to have more confidence in yourself and in your connection! This is honestly a really positive message, I feel like you need to spend more time honestly focusing on you? Developing yourself, allowing things to unfold for you. Have more faith and confidence.

You may be exploring something you've never experienced before. Don't be afraid to get your hands dirty and really explore what's going on around you right now. Be more secure in knowing this is an actual solid situation, I feel like you are feeling restless somehow. Try to get to the root of that, understand what is causing you to feel so uncomfortable and confront it. I feel like you may be feeling frustrated because you're trying to reach something. Like maybe you feel distant from your person and it is causing a lot of friction? I feel like, you need to just relax a bit. You will get your desires! There is a truly solid foundation here, and everything will truly be okay. <3

PILE THREE

SINGLES:

ngl, I feel like a lot of y'all are either fixated on one person or like this super idealized idea of intimacy and romance and I honestly feel like its kind of unfair? I feel like there may also be a specific person who is interested in you that you're just NOT feeling. Right now is a really good time to focus on building yourself and your stability up. I feel that honestly a lot of you are just a bit stuck up at times? There's not really a huge message here. It seems like nothing is really good enough for y'all, which is fine like you're allowed to desire whatever you desire. At some point though you might want to ask yourself if you're lacking gratitude for what you DO have. If you're feeling bored, or like nothing is really fulfilling you perhaps it's time for you to find new hobbies and interests. It seems like maybe y'all aren't even interested in love rn? Which has me like why are y'all even reading this LOLOLOL. Regardless, I wish you all well! TAKEN/SITUATION:

I see that you guys may be in a brand new connection! omgggg, it looks like there's a lot of mystery surrounding how this might unfold. I feel like this might be a talking stage on the verge of becoming official, or possibly you just met someone that you have a very intense connection with. I feel like some of you could be younger, perhaps your family is not comfortable with you dating? So I'm seeing that this connection might be secret. I feel like you're being told that it will be okay and you will be able to let this circumstance come to actual fruition. Just know how to keep your situations separate and private so that your family isn't in your business. I'm also seeing something about love notes or love letters. So maybe you should write your person a letter confessing how you feel! Sorry this is so short pile 3 <3

[simplyhughes]

A Hughes Summer: The Arrival

Synopsis: A Hughes Summer is an ongoing series about a HughesSister!Reader x Connor Bedard! This will follow multiple scenarios of their summer together spent at the infamous Hughes Lake House! If there are any specific scenarios you’d like to see, please let me know! Thanks for reading!

Content Warning: none!

Pairing: Connor Bedard x Hughes!Reader

Part One

wc: 1k

Navigating dating the best rookie in the league while being surrounded by three brothers, all notable players themselves has been extremely chaotic, to say the least. Hockey has permeated all corners of my life, not that I necessarily mind, but being born into a hockey family has definitely altered my taste in men. Connor, my boyfriend, and my trio of brothers have clashed on the ice before, obscured by layers of gear, battling fiercely for the puck. But today marks the moment of formal introduction, and I can't deny the flutter of nerves within me. My brothers are intense; Quinn has this odd maternal instinct toward me, Jack is just downright wild... and with Luke, I'm actually not too concerned, as long as I keep him supplied with a snack to gnaw on.

As the 2024 hockey season drew to a close, Connor and I made the spontaneous decision to embark on a road trip from Chicago to Michigan, where I planned to introduce him to the beloved Hughes summer lake house tradition. Every summer for as long as I can remember, my family has spent the majority of the summer in Michigan, lounging at the lake house. With every mile closer to our destination, my heart quickened its pace, anticipation mingled with nerves as the moment of collision between my two worlds drew near. Yet, amidst my own jitters, I couldn't help but notice the anxiety radiating from the driver's seat beside me, where Connor sat, his nerves seemingly even more pronounced than mine.

It seemed like he was on a timer; every couple of minutes, he dragged his palms against his thighs, wiping his sweat to keep his grip on the wheel. In between that, he’d run his hands through his hair and check his reflection in the rearview mirror. After watching him do this a few times, I couldn't help but chuckle. Connor glanced over at me before turning back to the road and smiled. “What?” he chuckled back at me.

“You are just cute, that's all,” I replied, still with a smile plastered on my face.

“Oh yeah?”

“For Sure”

The car fell into silence for a minute. It was a comfortable silence, but you couldn't help but feel bad that he was nervous. “Connie, they are gonna love you. I promise.”

“I really hope so, y/n.”

“I know they don't know you yet, but I do know they already admire your skill and drive. But they are gonna love you, promise.”

Connor looked at me, his eyes softened and gave me his signature lopsided smile. I stretched my arm out to the car's console and turned up the radio's volume.

The car rumbled along the graveled, mud-plastered driveway, flanked by towering trees that resembled skyscrapers, the only resemblance to the city we had just departed. Finally, the vehicle came to a halt. Connor shifted the gear to park and wiped his palms once more. He unbuckled his seatbelt, popped the trunk, and went to retrieve some of our luggage from the back. Before handling our belongings, Connor opened my door and offered me a hand. I grasped his hand, stepping out of the car.

“Thank you, Con. Chivalry isn't dead, I suppose. But you gotta do something about the sweat, baby,” I teased.

His eyes rolled, and he bumped me jokingly with his hip. Together, we made our way to the trunk. As I started to gather my things, Connor swiftly snatched the bags from me.

“Hey!” I yelped.

“Chivalry,” he smirked.

Connor, busy with all the bags, let out a huff as he unloaded his arms on the front porch. I rammed my finger into the doorbell multiple times, rapid-fire style, just to annoy my brothers.

“HOLY SHIT MAKE IT STOP!” I heard one of my brothers yell, muffled by the walls. The door swung open revealing the shortest of the three brothers. “QUINNIFER!” I shouted, jumping into his arms. “Hey, Peanut!” he shouted back. We shuffled back into the house where I was then greeted by the other two. After almost being squeezed to death, the attention shifted to the awkward blonde standing alongside the bags. I cleared my throat, “Guys, this is Connor!”

“Hey man, it’s nice to finally meet you,” Quinn said, giving him a handshake. Luke followed suit while Jack just stayed back. The middle brother narrowed his eyes, watching his other brothers greet the new guy. “Jack quit being a dickhead and say hello.

“I’m just busting his chops y/n, don't worry,” Jack smirked. “What's up?” He finally spoke, shaking Connor's hand.

“Quinny, can you please handle our bags while I give Connor the grand tour?”

“Whatever, anything for my favorite sibling,” he replied, immediately getting hassled by the other two.

I managed to grab Connor's hand and sneak him around the brawl leading him into the living room. His eyes trailed along the pictures that decorated the mantle; pictures that told the Hughes’ past summers, the quilt that was draped against the couch; the quilt that was ripped and resewn back together, it held too many memories to throw out. He soaked in the room, observing all the details laid before him. I plopped down onto the couch, also soaking everything in. “What do ya think?” I questioned.

“I think that you were adorable,” Connor gushed while picking up a framed picture from almost 14 years ago. He looked it over for another minute, then put it back down in its spot. I smiled watching Connor, seeing him in this house that meant so much to me. He fit in so perfectly, it’s like he's been here all this time. My smile only grew thinking about the events this summer longs to unfold, how this will be his first summer in Michigan with many more to follow.

[yoru-exe]

⊹₊ DON'T MESS WITH WHAT'S MINE ₊⊹

in which he found out that someone had been messing with you, and he wouldn't tolerate it

featuring: inui seishu, kokonoi hajime, hanemiya kazutora

a/n: i'm held captive by my literature writing and i need comfort :'(

inui seishu

you trembled there like a leaf, telling him about how that man in the room wouldn't respect the rule of the place, whispering in fear that he might hear and come looking for you. seishu's long fingers softly caressed your reddened wet cheeks, but you knew he's extremely furious from the pulsing vein on his forehead. "please don't be too hard on him, i don't want you to get hurt. he looks tough-".

he stopped you with a kiss, "i'll be fine, don't worry. go get back to you room now. i'll tell koko you're taking the day off today". when you wordlessly looked at him with a concerned look on your face, he just smiled, "i'll come over after i'm done". one last kiss on your forehead and he left, ready to unleash hell.

it was stupid of that man to not behave at toman's property, but it's all the more brainless to mess with his woman. seishu took his time with him, making sure that he learned his lesson so thoroughly he wouldn't even think of repeating the same mistake twice. later that night, he arrived at your room blood-stained and unharmed, just as he promised.

kokonoi hajime

he knews how to manage his resources and set his priority straight. so when his underlings reported to him about what happened to you, he gave his order for them to deal with that nobody on reflex, telling them to have fun with the beating, while he thought of ways to comfort you. all the moves perfectly calculated, afterall, he's not bonten executive for nothing.

koko found you at the balcony of your penthouse when he arrived home. your hair and dress swayed gently with the wind, but your usual smile wasn't as bright as it usually would be when you greeted him. carefully, he wrapped his arms around you, comforting you with his presence, "long day?". you just melt against him as you hummed.

he always find it so cool how you managed to keep your composure despite everything and he really respects that about you. alas, that didn't stop him from wanting to spoil you at every opportunity, "anything you need?". "just you". it made him thought how great it is to come home to you like this, and he intended to keep it that way for as long as he can. from his pocket, his phone buzzed to a short text from his men, "he's been taken care of".

hanemiya kazutora

man doesn't need you to explain. he just knew, through some kind of wild instinct, that someone had bothered you in a way that made you feel uncomfortable. as an adult, kazutora is much more matured compared to how he was when he's still a teenager. alas, he can't help himself, "who?".

if made you shuddered, and it pulled rationality back to himself. "i just want to know, so that i can protect you next time", he cleared his throat. when you hesitated, he pulled you gently by your chin and said the magic word he knew you're weak for, "please?". and weak did you feel. he heard the anxiety in your voice as you told him all about it.

"everything will be fine now", kazutora promised, and he meant his word, because there will be no next time. after he sent you home from a ride around the city, to distract you from that event, he tracked the man down through his connection, and did everything he planned to do with him. although, if you're to ask him what he's up to last night, he's going to playfully tell you that it's a secret.

[dadddybangtan]

‘And There Were Three’ | (m)

pairing: sylus x zayne x afab/fem reader

contains: smut mdni, loosely l&ds based plot, unprotected sex, threesome, dom sylus, service top zayne, docile reader, mentions of abortion, strong language, short violence, sleepy sex, multiple orgasms, choking, daddy/kitten/doctor, established relationship between reader and zayne, big dick zaddy zayne, shlong slinging sylus, filthy unapologetic smut, slight zayne x sylus

word count: 3.5k

a.n. wow we’ve only known sylus for less than a week and my brain already went wild. before sylus came, i was very loyal to zayne, now i romance both of them and i couldn’t be happier with the game. and yes, that’s my avatar in the cover lol

my pronouns are he/they and i usually make afab/gender neutral smut to align with my own preferences. but i use she/her pronouns for the reader here to have continuity with the game’s canon.

anyways! tell me what you think of this threesome and if i should continue writing more (this definitely feels like part one to a bigger smut story…)

READER POV

Sylus was finally beginning to drive on some streets I recognized. My anxiety only worsened when I realized he was on the street of my own house. How does he know where I live?

"You're taking me home?" I asked.

"You won't resonate with me because you're uncomfortable with me," His dark voice said, "We should get to know each other in the place you're most comfortable."

I swallowed a lump in my throat. He was so focused on modding my Evol, it made me sick. When he parked in front of my house, I saw the lights on inside. Zayne was home from the hospital already and it was only ten o'clock at night.

"It's not good to leave the lights on."

"I-I didn't..." I stammered, "My boyfriend's home from work."

"So that's why you don't like me," He chuckled, "You've got your heart set on someone else. I guess I'll just have to give him a little greeting."

He grabbed his gun from his hip and reloaded bullets from his chest pocket. Assuming his plan, I swung the passenger door open and jumped out. Only for Sylus to catch me by my arm.

"You think I'm just gonna go in guns blazing," He asked but I remained silent, "This is just in case he tries anything with me. Self defense, kitten. Not like you'd know anything about that."

He let go of me and I was out of the car. He followed me to the front door and watched my shaky hands unlock it. Once inside he looked around for Zayne, but he wasn't reading on the couch like usual.

"Doctor Zayne?" I called, "I'm home."

"You call your boyfriend doctor?"

I ignore this and headed up the stairs. I could hear his loud footsteps behind me.

"Stay down here."

He took a step back and crossed his arms. His face made a cocky smirk that annoyed me, but I continued up the stairs and to my bedroom.

"Zayne?" He was no where to be found.

I took off my jacket and tried to settle in before going back downstairs. As soon as I caught my breath, I heard a sudden gunshot from the distance. I darted out of my room and down the stairs. I ran into the kitchen to see Sylus pointing his gun at Zayne.

"Sylus, what have you-." I paused, finally noticing the bullet frozen on the ground.

"You didn't tell me he had an ice Evol."

"Who is this man?" Zayne said calmly.

"Zayne, this is Sylus. The leader of Onychinus."

"And what is he doing here."

"I'm here to get properly acquainted with your girlfriend so we can resonate."

"Excuse me, [Reader], you're letting him do this?"

"We made a deal. I have to." I said weakly.

Zayne stepped forward, over the bullet on the ground. He wore the shirt I love him in, glasses and barefoot. He was comfortable. I felt horrible for bringing this mess home with me.

"Sylus, is it?"

"Doctor Zayne," He coos lowly "You're really a doctor?"

"Heart surgeon," He said with a stern voice, "Judging by your pale skin and red eyes, you're a vampire. Would I be correct?"

"You're smart," He looked over at me, "How did a ditz like you get someone like him?"

With that, Zayne froze Sylus' hand to his gun and pushed him against the wall.

"Don't talk about her like that."

"Or what, Doctor Zayne," He asked rhetorically, "If I can't insult her, what should I say? That she'd make the perfect fuck doll and she'll need you to patch her up when I'm done with her."

My heart pounded. How could he say that out loud to my boyfriend of all people?

"Arguably, I'd say that's worse," Zayne hissed, still holding the man against the wall, "Sylus, I think you should leave before you cause any more trouble."

"Ah, come on, Doctor Zayne. You can't tell me you've never looked at her and didn't want to tear her apart."

Sylus cracked the ice on the wall, put his gun in the holster and grabbed Zayne's face. He forced my own boyfriend to look at me. My heart beat only increased.

"I mean look at the way that top hugs her breasts. And how tight her pants are. Those hips would be perfect to grab onto as you rail her from behind."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you wanted to sleep with her."

"And if I didn't know any better, I'd say you got hard just by looking at her," Sylus sneered before fixing Zayne's gaze to himself, "Or was it the sound of my voice?"

"That's enough," I said, trying to separate the two, but they were both much stronger than me and neither of them budged, "It's one thing to objectify me but it's another to seduce my boyfriend. What are you trying at?"

"I'm just playing a little game, kitten."

"What kind of game?" Zayne asked, I felt his shoulders relax and heard his voice soften.

"How about I make you a deal," Sylus said, finally using his strength to push Zayne off of him, "I need her to be comfortable with me to resonate with her. How about we make her cum-fortable?"

"You think I'm going to let you screw around with my girl?"

"As much as I want to, and as much as your cock wants me to," He said, snickering at Zayne's twitching bulge, "I had something else in mind."

"And when were you gonna ask me?" I interjected.

"Kitten," He growled as he brought his cold hand to my chin, "Can daddy help Doctor Zayne make you cum?"

I was appalled. But I couldn't lie; I was intrigued. And judging my Zayne, he seemed to be intrigued too.

"Zayne, why are you okay with this?"

"I'm not asking him, I'm asking you like you wanted. So answer me."

"You're not gonna hurt me, are you?"

"Not unless you want us to."

"You're not gonna hurt Zayne?"

"I promise I won't hurt Doctor Zayne."

I think on it a bit more. Zayne isn't protesting and he's managed to retain his erection in his sweatpants. This must be something he was into for a while, but hadn't told me about.

"Under one condition." I say.

"Yes, kitten?"

"Leave all of your weapons on the counter."

"As you wish." He says, releasing my chin and unloading his gun, tasers, and pocket knives onto the kitchen counter.

Zayne grabs my hand and leads me to the couch. He sits down and puts me on his lap.

"You didn't answer my question," I say, "Why are you okay with this?"

"To help you with your deal."

"That's not all, Zayne." I said, palming his clothed bulge.

"You already look so beautiful with one person treating you," He said as his hand gently snaked up my back and to my neck, "I've always imagined what you'd look like with two."

I knew it.

"R-really?" I asked, my body became hot, "How come you never told me?"

"The desire was never that extreme to ask a prude to engage in a ménage à trois. Plus, I've never had a third candidate in mind until now."

"Prude? You're bi?"

"You ask too many questions, kitten," Sylus said from behind me, startling me, "It's not that he's bi, it's that he wants to see how fucked out you can actually be."

"And if I was bi?" Zayne asked, looking up at Sylus. I'd never seen him look so submissive.

"You couldn't handle me, Doctor Zayne," He chuckled, "Besides this isn't about your pleasure, it's about hers. Don't be selfish."

Sylus snuck his hand under mine and prompted me to stand up. He turned me towards Zayne and stood tall behind me, silhouette engulfing my boyfriend. His presence was so daunting, intimidating. I always knew Zayne was strong but Sylus' strength is superhuman... Vampiric. I thought he was joking earlier.

I felt his cold hands hovering over my shoulders. They reached down my chest to the collar of my shirt.

RIP

I gasped, looking down at my bare breasts. To my surprise, Zayne doesn't struggle to look me in the eyes.

"Her tits are down here," Sylus propped my tit up in his hand while his arm supported the other. It was like he was presenting them to Zayne, "Perform your oral, Doctor Zayne."

Only then did Zayne's eyes wander downwards. He leaned in and let his tongue play with my nipple. I saw one of his hands come to my side and the other to his core. His mouth felt so good on my body.

We didn’t have sex often due to our work schedules. So when we do got time like that, I was always blissfully reminded of how good my lover feels.

Sylus hummed in my ear and it genuinely sounded both devilish and heavenly. The deep richness was born in hell. But the smoothness and seductiveness made it heavenly.

His free hand went down to my waist and the button on my pants. He was an expert, it seemed. He unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans with ease.

"W-what're you doing?" I moaned.

"I'm not gonna finger you, that's Zayne's job."

Sylus pressed his middle and ring finger on my clit from the outside of my panties and slowly toyed at the nub. Am I already about to cum? Is it because I don't orgasm often?

Regardless, the pleasure made me throw my head back on Sylus' chest. I knew he was attractive, but how was he so hot even from upside down.

"Fuck." I whimpered as my I felt my underwear become wet with cum.

"Our kitten came already? We're nowhere near done with you."

Sylus let go of me and I fell into Zayne's lap again. Zayne kissed my neck as he inches my pants off. Sylus took off his pants too. Even in his underwear, his cock was huge.

Without a word, Zayne readjusted me so I would sit directly on top of his dick. It slid inside me easily. He used his knees to separate my legs. My pussy seemed to be on display for Sylus. That prompted him to throw his underwear down, making his cock spring up and hit his stomach. With Zayne thrusting into me and watching Sylus play with himself, I felt a bit overstimulated.

"Look at yourself." Sylus eyed my pussy as Zayne slid in and out of me.

I looked down to see what Sylus was on about; Zayne's cock glistened with my slick. I don't know what turned me on more. Was it watching Zayne disappear inside me or was it Sylus watching Zayne disappear inside me.

Sylus stepped toward me, thick, hard cock staring directly at me. I could tell he wanted me to put my mouth on him, but I refused. I knew Zayne well enough to know he'd get jealous if I gave another guy a blowjob.

As Zayne continued to thrust inside me, his hand went under my arm and to my neck, lightly choking me. I remember asking him for this months ago, but he didn't understand why I wanted him to do something like that. What’s gotten into him? Whatever it is, I love it.

I looked back at my boyfriend and caught him staring lustfully at Sylus' member. He was so focused and I could feel him twitch and throb inside of me.

Sylus lifted his leg onto the couch, bringing his dick dangerously close to my face. Zayne's firm hand on my neck prevented me from pulling away. Just when I thought Sylus would bring his dick to my lips, he put his hand on the back of Zayne's head and forced his dick into his mouth. I’d never seen Zayne like that before. It was shocking, but it was so hot.

I stared intently at Zayne’s mouth as it stretched to Sylus’ size. I saw him wince and moan everytime his tip hit the back of his throat. His eyes began to water behind his glasses and when the first tear fell, I felt his grip on my neck tighten.

“You’re fogging up his glasses, kitten.” Sylus moaned.

He decided to give Zayne’s mouth a break as he carefully removed his glasses and dropped them onto the far end of couch.

“Why’d you stop?” Zayne groaned lowly.

“You didn’t look like you could handle it, Doctor Zayne,” Sylus said, taking his foot off of the couch and sitting next to him, “Taking me is not for the weak. Isn’t that right, kitten?”

I struggled to protest. Zayne felt so good inside me and his grip felt so erotic on my throat. I couldn’t find the words to assure Zayne that I’ve never fucked him.

“You’re not weak, are you, [Reader]?” Zayne whispered into my ear.

“N-no.” My moan was cut off by the strong pulse I felt in my core. I closed my eyes to focus on the feeling.

My clit was pulsating and my walls were closing in on Zayne’s member. The feeling was so intense, I couldn’t control my legs from shaking. I clawed at Zayne’s strong arm, but I didn’t want him to take his hand off of my neck.

“Fuck…” Zayne moaned softly. He never cursed in front of me before, “Can I fill you with my cum, baby.”

Before I could answer the question, I felt his warm seed coating my insides. And my legs only shook more violently. I opened my eyes and glanced over at Sylus who just was watching us and stroking his cock.

Zayne lifted me off of his dick and I saw his cum pour out of me and onto his pelvic mound.

“Look at you whimpering and shaking like a leaf,” Sylus chuckled, “Are you sure you’re not weak.”

“I’m sure.” I said, trying to catch my breath.

I lied back on Zayne’s chest. I wasn’t weak, but I was tired. I had already orgasmed twice at the end of a long day. I wasn’t sure I could take anymore.

“You’re nearly drifting off to sleep,” Sylus got up and scooped me into his arms, “Doctor Zayne, show me to her room. I think we should finish her off in the bed.”

My boyfriend led Sylus to the bedroom upstairs with me in his arms. Zayne lied on the bed first and Sylus put me down softly. Zayne snuck his arm under my head and cuddled me from the side. He spread my legs and rested one of them on his thigh.

Through my eyelashes I saw Sylus remove his sweater, and revealing his insanely muscular body. He was completely naked, staring at me and eating me up with his eyes. He then climbed onto the bed and on top of me.

“Even when you’re weary, you still look scared of me,” He said, “Don’t worry, you can handle it.”

His tip flirted with me dangerously. Sylus ever so gently pushed his member into me. My eyes widened at the girth as he stretched me out so much. Zayne is big but Sylus is bigger. He’s not even all the way in. I felt my face contort in reaction to his size.

“Oh my god.” I whisper against my will, I didn’t want Zayne to hear me.

“Look at yourself,” Sylus said, glancing down, “You take me so well, kitten.”

When I looked down, I saw a lump in my lower stomach from his cock. I let out a shaky breath from the sight.

“You’re doing so well.” Zayne said.

With that, I melted into his voice and my body melted onto Sylus. He pulled out just enough to let his tip remain inside then slowly trusted into me. He kept that rhythm, letting me feel every inch of him.

Zayne caressed my face and lovingly kissed my forehead and cheek. But I was needy. All this fucking and not a single one of them kissed my lips. I angled my lips to Zayne’s and he kissed me back passionately.

“That’s cute. Kissing your boyfriend makes you cream all over my cock.”

I didn’t realize my body reacting to that sensation. But hearing him say that brought me close to another orgasm. I moaned into Zayne’s lips and he kissed me harder, letting his tongue play with my lips. Sylus kept his pace steady and I felt my walls closing in on his cock, same way I did with Zayne.

“Come on, kitten, cum on daddy’s cock.”

I bit down on Zayne’s lip. He slid his hand down my torso and massaged my clit. My legs started shaking again.

“You can do it.” Zayne said into my ear.

“Cum for me.” Sylus demanded.

“You’re almost there.”

“Good girl.”

All of my senses muted as I fell into a deep sleep.

3rd PERSON POV

Her body lied limply on the bed as her orgasm put her to sleep. Once Sylus pulled out of her, Zayne closed her legs to give her some decency. Then he took his arm from under her head and went to the bathroom attached to the bedroom while Sylus sat on the edge of the bed.

He came back with a warm, damp towelette and began cleaning her up as she slept peacefully. He used the towel to soak up the fluids from around her core so she can sleep more comfortably.

“You didn’t cum inside her, did you?” Zayne clarified.

“Not even close. It takes a lot more than that to get me off.” Sylus said as he reached over to grab the towel.

“I can do it.”

“I believe you, Doctor Zayne, but you missed a spot,” He said, quickly correctly him, “Besides when I do cum in her, trust I have the means to take care of it.”

“As if I’d let you touch her again. As if I’d let you raise her baby.”

“When I say ‘take care of it’ I mean abort it. A ditz like her can’t raise a child.”

“What did I say about talking about her like that.”

She began stirring in her sleep. Both Zayne and Sylus remained silent until she settled down, refusing to take a breath. Once she was still again, Zayne moved to properly take off her ripped shirt.

“I assume you have the means to replace this then.”

“Tenfold,” Sylus chuckled darkly, “Y’know, it’s funny that you hold such animosity towards me since my cock was down your throat just a minute ago.”

“Sylus, is it? The only thing we have in common is [Reader],” He said, covering her naked body with the blankets on the bed, “I only did that to help her.”

“Sure.” He smirked.

Zayne swallowed hard and went to the nearby dresser. He retrieved a pair of night pants and a hoodie before throwing both at Sylus.

“Cover yourself,” He said before getting his own pair of pants and sliding them on, “If you’re going to spend the night you should be comfortable.”

“I don’t need these. And I don’t need to spend the night.”

“You’re [Reader]’s guest. You should say a proper goodbye before you leave. And you’ll do that when she wakes up in the morning.”

“I suppose a proper goodbye would make her trust me enough to Resonate with me.”

“Precisely. But surely there were other ways to get her comfortable with you, hm?”

“Of course. This was just much more fun.”

Sylus slipped on the clothes that were surprisingly a good fit. Zayne gestured him downstairs and Sylus followed.

“You can help yourself to anything in the kitchen, although we need to go grocery shopping. If you’d prefer to order something in, you’re more than welcome to. You can sleep on the couch tonight.”

“I must admit, your hospitality is admirable. Especially considering how the night began.” Sylus said, looking over at the bullet with a melted ice puddle beneath it on the floor.

“It’s for her, not for you.”

“Sure.” He said again, sitting on the couch.

“Goodnight, Sylus.”

“Your glasses, Doctor Zayne?” He said, holding up the specks with a small smirk on his face.

Zayne grabbed them but Sylus didn’t let go.

“I can tell that you don’t trust me around her. But you have my word when I say, I’d never try anything funny without her permission or without your knowledge.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“I didn’t become the leader of Onychinus by being a liar. My people trust me because I never gave them a reason not to.” He said, finally letting go of the glasses, “Goodnight, Doctor Zayne.”

[ghostlythunderbird]

The Pack ~ The Letter

Pairings: Alpha!Konig, Alpha!Simon “Ghost” Riley, Alpha!Keegan P. Russ X Omega!Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ Minors/Ageless Blogs DNI, Omegaverse, Mentions of Anxiety/Panic attack, Ghost and Keegan are kinda mean for this one (Im sorry!), Konig being a big softie for Reader, Mostly Fluff for this one!

Words: 4,437 (Went a little too wild with this one!)

Author’s Notes: Please do not repost, edit, or translate my work. This blog and all content will be marked 18+ even if there is no NSFW content, if you are underage or have no age I don't want to deal with you. So sorry for the long time to update, I'm currently recouping after my hand surgery so ill try and update when I can, it sucks trying to write with one hand XD.

Summary: After being introduced to your new pack, you are taken to your new home or 'Den' at this point. While the introduction part went almost seamlessly, your starting to figure out that these alphas might be a little hard to get along with.

The drive home was nothing less than silent; aside from König sitting in the back seat with you, the two other alphas were quiet. 'Maybe they are the strong silent type.' You had told yourself. While you wanted to ask anything about themselves, you had a strong feeling that you would be told to be quiet by these alphas.

Close to an hour later, the car had come to pull into a short driveway. Looking out the window, the house itself was decent from the outside. A standard brick suburban house, copied and pasted much like many others on both sides of the street. The red bricks and white paneling nearly blinded you as you stared at it. Before you could ponder more on the look of your new 'home' the door on your side opened, The Alpha known as Ghost stood there "Come on, out ya get."

Sliding out of the vehicle you were snatched up by König who gently guided you up the steps to the front door. "Don't worry about your stuff right now, Schatz. We will get it later." Without another word, the front door was finally opened.

Your new home was lackluster; if you googled a Bachelor pad, this would be the definition of one. While there was furniture, it didn't feel as homey as you had expected. The living room was bare other than the oversized L-shaped couch and T.V. stand it faced. Hell, these guys didn't even have a fucking coffee table, of all things. As you further overlooked the room, you noticed the bare white walls. No different colored paint, picture frames, or calendar was hung up.

Just an empty minimalistic house. Perfect for three military bachelors.

As you stepped through the front door, you nearly lost your breath after the mix of alphas scents. The overall musk almost sent you to your knees, through the overbearing scent hints of Cinnamon, Vanilla, Mint, Smoke, and Leather blended in almost perfectly.

 Minutes passed as you regained yourself before you looked back towards the door to find König waiting for you to continue. "Are you okay, Schatz?" His voice was soft as he began to approach you. While you knew his second gender and the horror stories your family had told you growing up, none seemed to fit his character. His sheer size alone would make anyone panic if he approached, but with him nervously clutching his hands to soothe his anxiety. It made him appear much less intimidating and rough around the edges, reminding you more of a large shelter dog being welcomed into a new house for the first time. He wanted you to accept his home, his den, as somewhere you would feel comfortable and safe. 

From Konig's point of view, None of this seemed real to him.

In two weeks, König went from a pack-less and omega-less Apex to not just having his own pack but an omega that he could protect and care for. Everything was a mirage that could disappear should he touch it. But seeing you here before him, nothing less of a goddess, made it much more believable. "If you two are going to have an emotional moment, at least move out of the fucking doorway so people can get into the damn house." Ghost growled out as he passed both of you. Keegan followed close behind, but unlike Ghost, he gave you a blank stare as he passed. 

Looking down towards you, König felt his anxiety rear its head. Your face had fallen and a sour tone began to line your once relaxing scent. as you watched the two alphas walk away from the door.

As wordlessly they came in, they disappeared up the stairs to their shared room. This brought König to sigh heavily as he looked down at you again. "Don't worry, Schatz. They will warm up to you……eventually" He wasn't sure if he was telling you this or trying to reassure himself at the pair's attitude that one eighty once they were back in their den.

He didn't want you to feel they despised your existence as soon as you entered their lives. "Why don't we get you settled? I'm sure you're ready to rest." With the Apex mentioning this, your eyes lit up, and you couldn't help but smile at him. "Definitely; it seems like we all need a fat nap."

Both you and König laughed before he led you up the stairs. Reaching the next floor, he showed you where the single bathroom was and his, Ghost, and Keegan's bedrooms, just in case. At the end of the hallway was the final room. "This was Ghost's room originally, but once we were accepted, we all decided to leave one room open for you. So that you have your own space away from us." Upon opening the room, you were presented with one of the most enormous beds you'd ever seen. Resting on top were bags on bags of not just new nesting material. This ranged from thick fluffy comforters to sleek silk sheets; however, they lacked color.

It was a swirl of black and white with an underlying mix of grey.

It rendered you motionless as you took in the sheer amount, had these alphas gone out and bought you a whole nest and a half of material? You had never heard of alphas going to these lengths to make an omega comfortable. As you looked toward the Apex in the doorway, the anxiety in his posture was evident.

His hands were drawn up to his chest, clutching pieces of his shirt into his hands. He was even slouched forward to lower his overall height to match yours, even with it being impossible without him going to his knees.

"Well, I uh.....I'll leave you to get settled. Just call for us if you need anything." Without another word, the Apex left, closing the door behind him.

With that, you turned back to look at the covered bed before finally moving to clear off the excessive amount of nesting material lumped together. What you thought was an easy 15-minute job turned into 45 simply because your omega was getting too far distracted by the number of gifts she was given.

'Soft and Secure. Alphas are perfect, bringing nice gifts for a nest. The perfect nest for Alpha's pups.' She yipped. You were startled back to reality, god you haven't even known these alphas for a whole day, and suddenly, your omega is presenting herself, begging to be bred by these practical strangers. 'Jesus, you need to focus' Shacking your head to rid your mind of the intrusive thoughts, you attempted to finish your task.

Why would your omega be so enamored even after how the other two alphas seemed to want nothing to do with you?

Once all the material was put away for the time being, you had a yawn slip from your mouth. How long have you been up today? It was well over 14 hours at this point. Why not take a quick break. Deciding to rest, you had walked towards the sorted assortment of nesting materials before you settled on one of the larger and softer blankets. The void color overtook your view as you pulled it from its packaging.

'So soft,' You tiredly thought. After making it onto the bed and ensuring the blanket fully covers you, you finally lay down. Letting the bed hold the weight of your body.

It was quiet as you brought the blanket further up your chin. The only audible noise in the room was the sound of the ceiling fan. You hadn't realized how mentally exhausted you were from the entirety of not just today but the past few weeks. Each blink drew slower and slower until your vision went black, and your mind drifted to dreamless slumber.

~~~~~Flashback~~~~~

The sound of the T.V. did so little to drown out König's thoughts; König primarily spent the little time he had away from his rather dangerous occupation thinking about the 'What ifs' of his life. He was so caught in his thoughts he didn't realize Ghost had come back into the house, his hands full with mail. Most were bills, but one was large and thick compared to the rest.

Ghost placed all the envelopes on the counter before sorting them; the largest was addressed to König. From the Alpha Pack Selection Program. Something that the resident Apex had waited for close to 4 weeks for a response, one that hopefully bared good news. "König." His gruff voice echoed out.

Being pulled from his overreactive mind, the Apex leaned slightly to look at the other Alpha. The manilla folder being held transformed into a brightly lit target to the Austrian sprawled out on the couch.

The large man lunged off the couch, startling the smaller Alpha, who had just descended the stairs. "Jesus, König, a bit of a fucking warning." Keegan couldn't help but snarl after nearly getting run over by the Apex. It was rare for these sorts of incidents to happen in the house; the two alphas and the Apex were incredibly aware of where each was and their schedules. 

König was zeroed entirely in on the envelope in Ghost's hand, while he may have been eager to receive this letter. He couldn't help but fear their answer; after their last response, it would make seven rejections from the program. Each time was for the same reason "Due to your Apex representation, we regretfully have to decline your enrollment to our program." But it still didn't stop him from taking it and tore the envelope open. "well, come on mate, what does it say?" Ghost nudged his arm; the Apex hadn't realized that Ghost had even rounded the corner to stand beside him.

König took in a deep breath before releasing as he unfolded the papers to read the words printed onto the paper.

Dear Applicant,

It has come to our attention that you have sent multiple applications over the last few years. Each one followed with a swift rejection from our programs as your representation would cause an upset in both our application alphas who may be paired with you and in the omegas who could be assigned to your care.

While we appreciate the time and effort you have invested in becoming part of this program, we have concluded that we will no longer accept any future applications from you. However, with this harsh news, we will allow a new application with you, but you must have at least two other alphas willing to become paired with you in a pack. 

This envelope contains four applications for alphas willing to work and be assigned to a shared omega. These applications are only viable for 30 days; afterward, we will no longer accept any attempts to pair you. As well as, all previous information you provided will be deleted from our database.

~ The Alpha Pack Selection Program council 

The silence that surrounded the air of the Alphas was suffocating. Even with the tv playing in the background, it was drowned out by the tense atmosphere. König felt like he couldn't breathe; until a sob forced its way out, and air seemed to flood his lungs again. How was he supposed to find someone willing to pack with him? and within 30 days? No one wanted to be stuck with him, and he hardly knew any other Alphas outside his work. And those he did work with? Most were already packed or swore off mating altogether. 

This was it, his final chance to be accepted. With no potential pack-mates, he would lose his only chance of finding a mate and having pups. The world wanted him to live the rest of his life, never knowing the sweet touch of the omega for which he would lay down his life. To never know the feeling of pure happiness looking at a pup made from his omega and himself. A piece of him that he helped create.

Why? Why. Why. Why. WHY.

He hadn't realized that he was beginning to have a panic attack until Ghost dug his fingers into his shoulder. König could feel his body trembling, rolling off in waves, making his balance waver. "König, mate, you need to breathe," Ghost told him hushedly. Ghost and Keegan shared a look as the Apex slumped forward onto the counter, his head falling forward into his hands. 

Steadying his breathing, König straightened his back and pushed the papers away as they burned him. While his day may have been uneventful, he wished he had never opened the damn letter now. The crushing weight that bared on his shoulders now seemed to grow heavier as the seconds passed. Looking at the stack of papers, Ghost couldn't help but look at the pages that caused König to damn near crumble before them. 

The words spilled out before he made him sick. Why are they just now sending this? After all those years König spent trying to be accepted in this shitty program and getting rejected every time, they decide now to tell him what he needs to be accepted. Talk about hitting a man while he's down. Looking towards the dark-haired Alpha, leaning against the back of the couch, "Keegan, take a look at this fuckin' shit." While reading over the papers, the smaller Alpha couldn't believe the audacity of these fucking people. All this just because he was a slightly different second gender?

Casting a glance at the large Apex, who seemed to be on the verge of shutting down completely. While Keegan was a hardass, usually, he couldn't help but feel bad for his brother-in-arms. "So they are telling you to find a pack outside this program to be accepted? What a load of crap." His brain couldn't help but reel at the fact they were giving him only 30 days to figure this out; who could even help him now? He paused. Looking between Ghost and König, he knew what he was about to say would either be genius or he was about to be hit for. "What if Ghost and I pack with you?"

König and Ghost both wheeled around, both wearing surprised expressions. "The fuck are you on about? Did you hit your head on your last O.P.?" Ghost exclaimed as he stepped toward the smaller Alpha. "How are we the best options for a fuckin pack?" Keegan took a step backward as Ghost entered his space. 'Fuck, probably should have kept my mouth shut.'

Clearing his throat, "Think about it, Ghost, we're both unbonded alphas who know König the best; hell, we already live with him. And he needs a pack to be accepted. Why not throw us in and see where we go?" The air between them grew tense as the larger Alpha stared at him. "Right, and we're the best choices to take care of an omega; last I checked, neither of us have been around one." Ghost spoke through a tense jaw. As much as he was against being anywhere around an omega, he knew it was the best option between them.

König looked at them both. "A-are you guys sure? I know you guys aren't comfortable with this; I don't want you to force yourselves into this just because of me." The Apex was ecstatic to hear that they would try, but he knew he couldn't get his hopes up with this. There was still the possibility they would all be rejected. 

"If this gets you into that program, I will push for it as much as possible." Keegan calmly stated. The Apex looked towards Ghost, who still looked unsure, giving him a kicked puppy look.

The blonde Alpha signed before giving König a look. "Alright, we'll give it a go. But if they reject us, this Program business stops. Are we clear on that?" König nodded ecstatically while Keegan released a deep chuff. The emotions swept over the Apex so much he didn't realize he had dragged Ghost into a bear hug. "GET OFF ME, YOU FUCKIN MUPPET; Keegan, help me out ere'!"  

~~~~~~

After sending in the paperwork, they got their response two weeks later.

They were accepted.

König felt like he was about to pass out; everything was starting to work out. But it was only the beginning for the newly formed pack. Not only were they a pre-formed pack, but due to their extended military service, they were also notified that they could choose their omega. Hence the giant pile of files on the kitchen table.

It felt like they'd been at this for hours, passing the scent samples for each one to inhale. Each Alpha had the scent samples they liked, but when presented to the other two, it was met with a swift rejection and sometimes with a comment. While some omegas looked good on paper or had a decent scent, the Alphas couldn't agree.

"How about this one? She comes from a wealthy family in Italy, and it even says, 'She enjoys the finer things in life.'

"No, Keegan, It sounds like she'd be more of a glorified brat. Anyone born with a silver spoon in their mouth is nothing but trouble for people in our job."

Or it's a same-answer vote.

"Yeah fuck this one; smells like a Hospital."

"I'm going to have to agree with Ghost on this one. It reminds me of when my mom used so much cleaner in the house when I was a kid."

They thought this would be the easiest part, but they were definitely over their heads. Ghost finally stood up in a rage. "We've been sitting here for fuckin HOURS, and not a single one we have agreed on. Most of them smell like shite too." The Alpha raised his hands and walked to the fridge to grab another beer. KKönig stood as well at the other Alpha's tone. "No one said the selection was easy, and there's only a few left. Let's get through them, and then we can take a break." The Apex pleaded.

That only seemed to rile up the exasperated Alpha more "How the hell are we going to find an omega at this point? We can't agree on a single one?" Both alphas stared at each other "HOW DO YOU KNOW? WE ARENT EVEN DONE!"  

Keegan watched as both alphas continued to argue; their conversation slowly was tuned out as he watched while resting his head in one hand. As much as he wanted to pipe up to aid König in calming Ghost down, He knew better than to get between these two during times like this. Before Keegan could intervene, a quick breeze of something sweet passed his nose, and the Alpha couldn't help but follow it back to the remaining folders. This scent was the best one he'd had all day, so he couldn't help but be curious.

It led him to a file towards the bottom that seemed much newer but was thinner than the other files in the stack. Once he opened it, the sweet scent was no longer teasing him. Taking the scent sample from the file, Keegan couldn't stop himself from pressing it to his nose and inhaling deeply.

It felt like he became weightless for those seconds; how had he not noticed this one earlier? It reminded him of the smell of fresh rainfall, a sweet yet calming scent. His Alpha couldn't help but be drawn to whoever the smell belonged to; without a second thought, Keegan pulled back from the cloth to look at the pages in the folder. Whoever's file this was about was the smallest one he had seen from the entire stack.

The picture attached gave him a view of the person that caught his Alpha’s attention.

You were stunning; His Alpha yipped in delight. ‘Yes, yes! Pretty mate! Must mate, Must protect!’

However, something felt wrong in the picture. Looking closer, the smile that graced your features didn't seem to reach your eyes. Your eyes held sadness and hidden anger that could reveal itself should you choose to snap. As his eyes flickered across the pages, Keegan stored everything he could about you away.

Omega Profile

Name: (Y/N) (L/N)

Age: 23

Sex: Female

Second Gender: Omega

Personality: N/A. Omega and Family declined to file the Omega Attribute survey.

The sickening sound of glass crack made Keegan snap his head upwards; the sight before him was far from good. Ghost and König stood only a few feet apart; the Apex and Alpha had their teeth bared and chests puffed up. Ghost was making his displeasure clear to the Apex while König was getting close to putting him back in his place among the three. It wasn't often it happened due to each other's work schedule, but when it did, someone was going to have their ego bruised, and some furniture might end up being broken.

“I highly recommend to watch what you say next, Simon.” The Apex spoke. His voice had dropped an octave; His Apex was close to taking over to deal with the Alpha. Ghost was silent before scoffing, moving to clean up his broken glass of bourbon. Keegan took this as his chance to break the tense air. “If you two are done with your pissing contest, I think I got one.” He slowly held up the small cloth between his index and middle fingers. As much as Keegan wanted to hoard the small cloth to himself, he needed to let at least his newfound packmates have a chance to decide if the omega was a good fit.

König was the only one who returned to the table to remove the cloth from Keegan’s hand. Lifting it towards his nose, he caught the scent almost immediately. It had him completely forgetting his altercation just minutes prior. “wow….I like this one; her scent is not overpowering and smells good. Simon, wanna try this one?” The Apex had turned back to the Alpha, who was leaning on the counter nursing a new glass of bourbon. The look in his eyes made Konig nervous; the Blonde Alpha was definitely over the whole experience, but seeing how both Keegan and König agreed on the scent patch, it seemed to be at least a contender.

Sighing, He set his drink on the counter before returning to the table. König slowly held the cloth towards him, but before he took it, he looked towards the two Alphas. “If this one smells like shite, I'm punching both of you.” Simon grumbled before snatching the small fabric. He stared at the cloth before finally giving in; as soon as the scent filled his nose, it was as if all the tension in his body had just melted away.

The other Alphas held their breath as they waited to see what the blonde alpha had to say. Simon looked at the pair as he set the cloth on the table near the open file. “Well, she doesn't smell bad. What's in her file?”

Keegan and König shared a look before handing Simon the file; It seemed they finally agreed on their potential omega.

~~~~~

The days counting down to them finally meeting you and bringing you home were absolutely hectic, to say the least. So many emotions filled the small townhouse as all three alphas cleaned and organized the house as best as they could, no omega should have a dirty home when they come home in the alpha's mind. Most were bouts of Anxiousness and Frustration, a vast majority were from the poor Apex who checked everything twice to make sure everything was perfect.

At the one-week mark Ghost and Keegan decided to move into the same room to make sure you have a space for yourself as you settled down. The move sparked from just the simple question "Where is our omega going to stay until she's warmed up to us?" To say it had the alphas taking multiple steps back was an understatement. Another thing that was brought up (By Ghost mind you) was what were you going to use should you decide to make a nest.

It may have not been something the Alphas were well versed in, but they at least made an effort. Cue the three alphas going out and buying almost two whole carts full of nesting material, plus the whole material selection boot camp.

"What about this one? It's big and it's super soft!" ~ König

"No no, She needs something that won't stick to her if she uses this for her heats. What about that silk sheet kinda stuff?" ~ Keegan

"Why not just get her some fucking blankets and pillows, This nesting shit can't be that complicated" ~ Ghost

It was definitely quite the scene watching these big alphas carry multiple bags worth of nesting material due to them being unsure what to get.

Once everything was settled, the day when they finally got to meet you arrived. The checking-in process was seamless, soon leading to the alphas being led to a smaller room waiting for the actual introduction. From what the receptionist had told them the Omegas family still needed to finalize paperwork, It had been the longest wait any of the alphas had ever done. But when the door finally opened to reveal the betas and you, time seemed to stand still.

They collectively decided they would die for you if it made you happy.

~~~~~

It had been a few hours since König had left your room. Call him paranoid, but no noise was coming from the door. Worried about you, he walked back to your door before knocking.

"(Y/N)? Is everything okay?" Hearing no response, he slowly opened the door and was greeted by a dimly lit room. And there on the bed, you laid completely still on the massive bed, sound asleep.

Once you walked in through that door, all his fears and worries seemed to implode and no longer existed. You were more than everything he could have dreamed of; how you weren't already paired was beyond him. You entangled him. Everything about you was beautiful, from your hair and eyes to your body. It wasn't until he had heard his name from downstairs that he was brought out of his trance.

He was casting you one last glance, taking in your sleeping form before turning to leave. König told himself he would make this work. Because now that he had you, He wasn't ever going to let you go.

Tag List: @silentmel, @thisperspective, @thebestgirlever2, @ghostalina, @pascallllllll1, @jujitsuito2069, @hypernovaxx, @frazie99, @v1naco, @littlezarp, @thatoneautor0123, @credince--writes, @4ndjelij4, @alonelyteenagebroncinbuck, @alonelyteenagebroncinbuck, @random0lover, @wintersnnowie, @operatorinvestigatesco, @marytvirgin, @nightriver99, @l-lend, @kelpiesummer, @quietlyignoringyou

[someone1348]

It's happening again, I'm saying this now it's been years since I wrote anything, so I might be a bit rusty! However! I've seen inside out 2 twice now, and I genuinely love it with all my heart! So regardless of anything, I'm making a fic! I don't know if I'll post it, but I'm inspired, so I'm making it!

The people in this: Lee!Anxiety, Ler!Joy

Tw: General Anxiety and Tickles, of course, so if you don't like it, keep scrolling :]

If you have not seen the new movie, inside out 2, I don't recommend reading this! There's slight spoilers, so just be warned! But yeah, it's based on the new one!

With all of that being said I hope you all enjoy! :]

-K <3

____________~☆°♡°☆°♡°☆~______________

Hands off the console!

After everything that happened at the three day hockey camp, things have gotten a lot better for both Riley and her mind.

She's a more complex person now, but that's because she's growing, and her emotions are growing with her! Throughout the summer, Riley's emotions have found ways of getting along, working together, and handling some of the more...intense...emotions.

It felt perfect! Too perfect...it was Riley's first game today with her new team. And yeah, some days are harder than others, but there was something off about today. Joy could feel it. She kept looking over at Anxiety as she would see her fidget, desperately wanting to touch the console.

Joy exhaled and smiled "I know you're worried anxiety! but Riley's got this! It's a great day! Our girls got it! Just work on the breathing exercises we learned"

Anxiety looked over at her quickly and nodded, trying to breathe, but her mind was elsewhere, running a million miles a minute. Fidgeting with her hands, she couldn't watch as Riley stepped onto the ice. With every buzzer sound, she flinched, every cheer, every little thing was bothering her. She decided to sit in her special chair until it ended.

It felt like an eternity for the anxious emotion. Her eyes stared hard at the console. And to her demise... they lost. On their very first game, with a new team, they lost! The orange emotions eyes went wide. Sadness took over the console, causing their girl to frown and sulk with the team before joy took over again.

"We'll get them next time! You don't learn anything from success, come on guys!" Riley said as the team smiled and nodded. Things were all good. They went out for pizza, and the emotions relaxed. Everyone except anxiety who desperately clung onto her chair. She didn't trust herself to get up. She knew if she did, she'd run straight for the console.

After a fun time with the new team, Riley was safe in her room, about to go to bed. "Are you gonna join us and get some rest Anxiety?" Joy asked as Anxiety was still glued to the seat.

"Y-Yeah! I'm just gonna sleep here tonight!" She forced a smile as Joy nodded. She didn't trust it, but she knew she had to give it a chance. Joy slowly curled up in bed. She got about five minutes in bed before she was woken up by the sound of buzzing in the console room. Riley's awake, and she knew exactly who caused it.

Joy sighed gently and yawned before heading down to the console room. "Anxiety?"

The orange emotion squeaked and took her hands away from the console. "Oh! Hey Joy!" She went back to it, the soft sounds of clicking filling up the room as Anxiety replayed all of the events of the loss in Riley's mind. Her imagination station running wild with every bad scenario that could potentially come from this moment.

"We lost the game, our friends are so mad at us for that!"

"What if we're not actually good at Hockey and the coach made a mistake?"

"We're gonna be alone forever!"

"We're never gonna win!"

"This is a terrible stamp on our unbeatable record!"

"We need to do better we need-" Her spiraling was interrupted by her own squeak and an unfamiliar sensation on her ribs. She whipped her head around to look at Joy.

Joy stood their smirking before poking her ribs again once more. Anxiety jumped this time with another squeak.

"Jumpy are we?~"

Anxiety blinked "Jumpy?! Me?! No! Not me!"

Joy smirked more. "Hands off the console, right now"

The orangette shook her head no slowly as she gripped the controls, her chest falling up and down slowly as she took deep breaths.

"Listen...I know you've been wanting to be in control all day, but Riley needs to sleep, and these scenarios are not going to happen, what's going on right now that we can control?" She smiled as Anxiety blinked.

"I- listen I understand, but! Today's really tough! I need to take control of the console! There's too much! We're-" Anxiety went on another rant. Joy knew it was going to be a harder day than normal, the loss didn't help, but Joy learned over time to just be patient with Anxiety. It may not be her strong suit, but she's trying. Everything was just going so good though!

"Anxiety"

The only response she got was more ranting about the what if's and things that most likely won't happen. 'Okay, that's it,' Joy thought to herself before wiggling her fingers gently against Anxiety's sides as she gripped the console.

"EE!- Wha-haha what? Wahahait! Haha!" She let out a few panicked giggles, snapping out of her spiral she let go of the console, trying to make sense of it all.

Joy giggled gently under her breath "What's the matter? Never been tickled before?" She kept going with her sides.

"Nohohot that I remehember! JOy! Haha! Stop ihIhit!" Her giggles were more light now but fluctuated in pitch based on where Joy's tickly fingers went as they trailed up and down the length of her sides.

Joy giggled again along with her. "That's right! I keep forgetting you guys are still technically new emotions!" She continued moving to her stomach. "Tickle Tickle Tickle~"

Anxiety's eyes widened as she fell back onto her chair with a loud squeal. Joy's face pulled itself into a smirk as she followed Anxiety to her chair, standing beside it, moving her fingers back onto her stomach. "I found it~" she teased as they wiggled against her tickle spot.

"JOHOHOY! WAHAHAIT!"

Joy smiled "Wait for what? You're losing me here anxiety! I can't understand you with all that laughter going on!"

"IHIHIT FEHEHEELS SO MUCH WOHORSE THAN THE OHOHOTHER SPOT!"

Joy giggled and nodded "Because it's more ticklish than your sides are" she continued "TickleTickleTickleTickle~"

Anxiety curled up into a ball to try and get away from the feeling, but that only made it worse. If she was being honest though, she didn't hate this?

"JOHOHOHOY!"

"That's my name? You need something giggles?"

"THATS NOHOT MY NAHAHAME AND YOU! EEE! KNOHOHOW IT! HAHAHA!" Anxiety huffed out through her laughter trying to sound tough.

"You're right! Squeaks suits you better!"

"NOHOHOHO!"

"Yessss~"

The two went back and forth for what felt like hours, at least in anxiety's mind it felt that long.

"PLEHEHEASE! I CAHAHAN'T!"

Not wanting to overwhelm her further, Joy gently retracted her hands away before rubbing the ghost tickles away.

"You okay Anxiety?" She asked hesitantly

Anxiety nodded and smiled, wipping a gentle tear from her eye. "I honestly didn't hate that...it pulled me out of my head...and now I'm sleepy"

Joy smiled and nodded "Well Riley is asleep, and so is everyone else, it's about time you get some rest too."

Anxiety exhaled and nodded. "Yeah...I'm sorry for keeping you up Joy, and waking you up earlier..."

Joy smiled "It's all good, and hey it was a learning experience!"

Anxiety blinked "how so?"

Joy smirked. "We found a new way to handle your bad days~" she wiggled her fingers teasingly at her, causing another squeak to come out of the other emotion in the room.

Anxiety sighed and waved her off "I'll see you in the morning Joy!"

The bluette smiled and nodded "Goodnight, Squeaks"

"Ughh!"

_________________________________________

I honestly don't know how to feel about this one! But hey! It got me to write again! :]

I hope you all enjoyed it! This won't be a regular franchise I write for, but I really wanted to do it. It was such a great movie!

[peachesofteal]

Hey just wanted to say I love your writing!!! Somehow it fills me with a sense of contentment I haven't experienced before, maybe it's because I see so much of myself in darling from dead disco and I'm loving all the au drabbles too.

Can we please get a glimpse into what happened when darling saw them at the grocery store. Did she bolt the first chance she got? She's probably still heartbroken and emotionally exhausted but does she miss them? How is she managing motherhood by herself? Does she think Soap and Ghost tracked her down? Sorry for asking so many questions my mind is racing 💗

Hi love! Thank you so much for all your support, you're truly too kind. 🩵🩵 I'm so glad you're enjoying all these crazy little stories, it's definitely a treat to dive into.

Warnings-tags: 18+ Mature themes. Takes place after this.

It doesn't happen, quite like you thought it would.

You had expected to feel fear, when you saw them again. Expected to feel the nerves, the anxiety, the twisting in your gut when you finally laid eyes on them. You imagined those feelings would shift into anger, as they always do, the tidal wave of your rage's strength pulling you under, just as it did the night you left, nearly two years ago.

You're surprised when it's none of those things. You're surprised when it's... sadness instead. A profound sense of loss, the swell of it so strong it nearly knocks you off balance, while it brings tears to your eyes.

Your mouth hangs open in shock for what feels like too long, seconds turning into eons while you cradle the baby's head, brain sputtering while you try to process. They've done it. They've found you.

They're going to take her.

Except... they don't look like they're looking for you. They look they're just out, doing their shopping. They look like they're just... having a normal day.

And they look just as shocked to see you as you are to see them.

Bee gurgles in your arms, a happy song, and you bounce her instinctively, while you break your eyes away to look past them, at the other end of the aisle, and the towards the door. You should leave. The thought primes your muscles, preparing you to flee, when Simon's voice rings out over the dim grocery store music.

"Don't run. Please. Please, darling. Don't run." You hesitate, unwilling to leave the grocery cart, unwilling to try to run through the store, and stand frozen, rooted to the linoleum like you've grown there.

It's like Bee can sense the shift in your mood, can smell your distress, because her happy trill stops, and her face scrunches up like she's confused, before she starts to cry.

"Shhh, baby. It's okay." you hum, trying to rub her back to calm her, while your brain trips over itself trying to go a mile a minute. Run. Don't. Be calm. Panic. Scream. Cry. Run into their arms. Don't be crazy. Don't let them take her.

They're stepping closer now, easing up the aisle towards you, and you shake your head at them as a no. No. Don't come any farther. I don't trust you. Johnny tries to wipe his cheek inconspicuously, while Simon's got his hands out like he thinks he's about to catch a wild animal.

Maybe he is.

"Stop." you half yell it, the word bubbling up your throat and out like a barb, and it halts them in their tracks.

"Darling, please." Johnny croaks, his eyes locked on yours.

"Stop!" you say again, and step backwards once. Bee fusses, and Simon watches her. "I won't let you." you hiss, and Johnny's brow furrows in confusion, while Simon regards you slack jawed.

"Let us what?" He asks and you nearly laugh, except in the moment you realize your breathing is more shallow than normal, lungs tight and fighting your brain for air.

"Take her. I wo-won't." Johnny's face shifts into something crestfallen, something broken, and he makes a strangled sound. Like he wants to speak, but can't. It hurts you, wounds something deep, something you've buried, and for a fleeting moment, you want to comfort him. Want to reach out, and touch him. Only just to feel him again. Simon doesn't anything at all, just stares at you in shocked silence, his hands shaking.

"Darling, we would never-" Would never? Would never?! He seems to realize, what he's saying, and stops himself... before taking a deep breath and continuing. "We know you don't trust us. But-"

"No. That's enough." You take another step backwards. He doesn't stop.

"Please, we can at least try to help with-"

"I don't need your help." You spit, and try not to look at your trolley. It's full of Bee's food, puréed, organic foods and brightly colored snack packs, while your own is a smattering collection of bruised produce and discount rack canned goods. "We're fine." you double down, but your voice cracks with the weight of the emotions that you're staving off, and Johnny looks heartbroken. "I'm fine. I'm doing it on my own. I've been doing it, on my own."

"I know." Simon's voice is soft, gentle, the gravel pitch smoothed into something velvety, just for you. It tugs at you, stabs and twists, nips at your heart, while you try to build your defenses to keep it out.

"I don't need either of you. We don't. I'm taking care of her. And she's great, she's perfect." It's not a lie. She is perfect. An angel. Your inquisitive, sweet, beautiful baby. Your little piece of perfection. You do everything for her, sacrifice everything, for her. She's your world, and your her's.

But being someone's world who needs you to survive is hard. It's really, really fucking hard. And doing it on your own is even harder. No one understands, what it's like, and you feel so weak, so stupid, so beat down every day that sometimes, it's too easy to close your eyes in the bathtub. It's too easy, to feel like you did after she was born, alone in your tiny flat, with a screaming newborn, and no one to help you. No one to call. It's too easy to wish for terrible things, especially when you know she would be taken care of. When you know her dads would keep her safe.

"She's beautiful, love." Johnny says, jolting you from your thoughts, and you can't help but nod in agreement.

"You've done so well." Simon murmurs and you slam your eyes shut. Don't. Don't listen to them.

"T-thank you." It comes out as a cry, tears you can't hold off anymore, and they both step closer, close enough that they're maybe two arms lengths away from where you stand. "No!" you croak, and Johnny covers his face with a palm, while Simon's face twists like he's in pain.

Seconds pass, and Bee still fusses in your arms, her body wriggling in your grasp, while Johnny takes long, deep breaths.

"Are you taking care of yourself?" he asks you softly, after he rubs his eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Li...like I said. We're fine." You choke it out, and Simon shakes his head. Like he knows. Of course he does. They can see right through you. You have to get out of here. "We should go."

"No, wait." Simon tries to step closer, but Johnny grabs his wrist.

"At least, let us buy your groceries." Johnny tries, but you shake your head.

"No."

"Darling, please. Please." Simon latches onto your trolley, making it immobile in his grip, and you shake your head back and forth.

"She needs to go down for her nap." You grit out. You can feel your own tears on your cheeks, and you try to ignore it, try to ignore everything except for your mission. Escape.

"Can we... get your phone number, at least?" He tries.

"That's not a good idea." I have you blocked on everything so not sure what purpose it would serve, either.

"You still have ours, right? In case you need anything?" Johnny asks gently, and you nod.

"You can call us, any time. Day or night." Simon rushes out, like he's a bit frantic, stumbling over the words. He releases the trolley finally, and you pull it away immediately. "For anything. We'll be there." Bee cries, screams, lungs screeching and you pat her back.

"Okay, thanks." You don't say anything else before you turn, swinging around and beelining for check out, all while trying to remember to breathe and soothe your crying baby.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck.

[urfavslytherclawgirl]

I cared...

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warning: Angst, swearing, crying, guilt, verbal fight, more than one POV, happy ending.

Summary: Bruce decides he will start dating you just to get information about your family, which is part of the Gotham Mafia, but what happens when he catches feelings for you? Or when you find out about all this?

"We need information on the Falcone family," Dick told Bruce while they were in the car heading to the annual Gotham party, it was amazing for people like Bruce and Dick, vigilantes.

The Falcone family needed to get what they deserved, to be put in jail for all the crimes they committed.

"And how do you want to do that?'' Bruce asked genuinely confused, Wayne Enterprises could get involved with Falcone and his wild business, they were friends after all, but it would be risky and obvious.

"We'll see. I'll take care of it Bruce, don't worry." Dick said as they stopped in front of the hotel where the party was happening.

"Hello, Mr. Wayne and Mr. Grayson." The host acknowledged the two as they got in with smiles. The party was full of people, with warm lighting and soft music playing, waiters walking from one end to the other giving out beverages and chatting everywhere.

"There's Falcone," Dick whispered as he got a glass of champagne, "and one of his daughters. Oh--maybe we can see if she lets out something. She is your age, or maybe two years younger but still. Give it a try" Dick suggested while looking toward the girl wearing an expensive dress.

"I can't just go there and ask her if her father kills people or not." Bruce ironically remarked while looking around smiling as people greeted him.

"Not like that, charm her...you can try to ask her out on a date. You're Bruce Wayne, who would deny it?" Dick ended the conversation by going away leaving Bruce alone with his thoughts.

He could at least try. If he noticed it wasn't working he'd just end things with her, simple

But it did work, it worked too well for him to even remember what the hell he was doing, he talked to you at the party smoothly asking you out on a date, and that date was perfect, different from any other date he had ever had, while other women would ask him about his 'extraordinary' life you asked him what his favorite book was, or when he'd say that something didn't work out for him instead of receiving a ''How! You're Bruce Wayne!'', he'd get advice or you'd help him through it.

You were...the most caring person he had ever met, and it hurt him every day to do what he was doing to you, but he was too engrossed to even try to stop it and when he did he'd just end up admiring you even more.

But he was going to do it now, he'd end whatever the two of you were having today, he was sure of it.

He had invited you to watch a movie in the screen room at his house and he'd find a way to end it.

"I'm going to get more popcorn for us. Not too much salt and definitely no butter, I know you, Bruce." You smiled and left the room with the empty popcorn bucket. This weird feeling formed in his stomach, maybe it was the anxiety of it all. All of a sudden warm arms hugged him from behind putting the popcorn on the seat next to him, he automatically kissed your cheek making you smile

You sat back down as Bruce looked at you with drunken eyes, he took your hand that was in your lap and kissed the back of it.

He was going to do it.

"You make me really happy."

He was going to do it.

"You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

He--

The two of you were now kissing passionately.

-

You were looking for Bruce in the middle of another party Gotham was hosting, with yet again many people making it even harder for you to find Bruce.

"Bruce!" You called out as you noticed he was walking towards an exit with a dark-haired young man, you walked through the crowd of people and finally made it to the exit.

"Bru--"

"Did you really not get anything, Bruce, we needed that information. Come on, you've been dating that girl for at least a month and she hasn't told you anything we can use against Carmine?"

Information? Use against my dad?

"What?" You whispered making the two look at you as Bruce's eyes widened, you scoffed and started walking away.

"Wait! Please, wait!" Bruce called out walking towards you, you stopped and turned around in anger.

"Where you using me, Bruce? I thought you cared and were genuinely interested in me! Was this shit all a lie?!" Tears threatened to fall from your eyes but you tried to resist the urge.

"Please let me explain--" But you didn't even let him finish, "Explain what, huh? How I was dumb enough to believe all the things that came out of your mouth? Or how I was stupid for even thinking you cared? Because I did! I cared about you and us, so much..." He looked at you with guilt in his eyes, he stepped forward then took a few more steps when he noticed you didn't step away.

"Please believe me now, I do care about you, and it was all true, all my emotions and all the things I said, all true. I made shitty decisions but none of it was fake." Bruce put his hand on your cheek , you looked at him for fe seconds, thinking.

You slowly put your hand on top of his hand that was resting on your cheek and pulled it away, toward his chest, pressing it there.

"Find someone else." You said turning around and walking away.

My dear

Please forgive me. I never meant to hurt you the way I did. I was a child and an idiot, but you have to know that I meant everything and you were one of the only people who treated me like a human, and I'll always be extremely thankful for that.

I care so much about you and I will never forgive myself for how much I hurt you, you might not even read this letter but I'm still giving it a try, for you, I'd always try.

You were right, I did lie, but only for the first minutes after that every emotion I felt was real, you are the most beautiful person I've ever met and I do care about you, in fact I love you.

Just know that you will always have a place in my heart and that I'll always be here in case you need me.

Bruce Wayne

You read the letter that was sent to your office, and after reading it front to back you left work immediately, got into your car and raced through Gotham.

As you stopped in front of Wayne Manor you didn't know what to do, so you started with the basic going to the door and ringing the door bell.

"Nice seeing you again, I wasn't aware Master Bruce was getting a visit, please come in." Alfred said after opening the front door.

"Master Bruce is in his studies." He whispered before leaving you alone, you sighed and started walking.

"Alfred I'm busy, for the last time I don't want tea." Bruce said as you opened the door, he was writing another letter with his hands between his head thinking in what to write.

"I'm not here for tea." You answered closing the door and walking towards his desk, he immediately looked at you with maybe hope or something else in his eyes.

"I got your letter," You said walking towards a bookshelf full of old books.

"What you did, was hurtful, but I get it, my father isn't the best man in the world. I love you too." Your voice was almost like a whisper as you turned your head towards him.

"I don't know if you meant it or not when you wrote it in your letter but it's fair for you to know." As your body fully turned towards Bruce you gasped bumping into Bruce, who had swiftly gotten up from his chair.

"I love you, and I promise you I won't ever lie to you again. Never." He said hugging your body while kissing you.

"Okay, I got it, no need for these many emotions. Keep up with your emotionless reputation." The two of you laughed.

[the-entitie]

COD men x K-9 Unit male reader

Part 1 | Part 2》》

A/n: I can speak three languages, only one of which borrow German words, so forgive me for shitty translations. I'm from the RSA, so you know. Not any of the boys hometown.

Reader works with a K-9 unit and his partner is called Mutt who is a mix breed of Alaskan Akita and Doberman(Mutt is also a service dog as reader has paranoia and C-PTSD). Readers call sign is Riot. The 141 boys needed help tracing a terrorist and John called in some favors to bring Riot and Mutt into the field. He helped the Los Vaqueros as well.

After the mission back at base, the reader interacts with the men, and they end up interacting with him.

Reader is referred to as you or Riot.

Mentions of panic attacks, anxiety attacks, C-PTSD, war, and / or war related violence. Unhealthy coping mechanisms, past trauma. Death of a family member. Torture, scars, and flashbacks.

Left: American Akita and Right: Long-haired Doberman

John Price: (740 words)

-He met you first, saw you first. Hell, he verified your file so he knew of your old teammates that turned because of the torture, and he knew of the many years you spent MIA. He also knows what you did to get out. So he keeps you close and keeps an eye on you. He's the one who needs to clear you for this recon mission. It will be his fault if another team mate goes rogue. -It only take him a few minutes to see how much you actually relay on Mutt, it takes him days to see its not reliance, no the two of you act in a cemented trust between you two. From the interactions at home base to the way you both move like a well oiled machine on the field, it doesn't take a genius to see that Mutt is a deadly force with training that makes the hound that much more dangerous. Price comes face to face with that realization when he sees just how far Mutt can throw a soldier four times their size. And Mutt came up to his thighs, mind you. -Time and space are all Price really needed to trust you completely. He knew how you acted with Mutt, and therefore, he knew how you would act around a team you trust. It doesn't take him long to see its not only Mutt who reacts to you. You react just as much based on your K-9. Price nearly shoots you when you call out to Mutt because you didn't whistle for the hound. You howled, and he could hardly tell it apart from the wild dogs he's heard out in the desert. He didn't even understand what the fuck you where doing until he heard something answer you, in the same rumbling call. It took a lot more time to get used to those kinds of noises from you. He could expect them from Mutt but not when it's you who makes them -Both of you were exhausted, been about three long days on your feet with little sleep, that's when he asks you how you make the sounds Mutt does. Hell he even starts trying to learn them just to know how you and you K-9 partner work better. "So I just cup my hands and what now Riot? I Grunt?" "No," you laugh at him, he doesn't feel patronized by it, "you hold your hands around your mouth and just bark, makes it echo like a dog." He sounded more like a mountain lion then canine when he actually gave it a try. You teach him how to pitch it up a bit, and how to drag the call out properly. "And you don't use your hand because?" "Because I'm used to it, and can make the 'echo' without my hands. I still do when I howl. Look." A few nights pass before he uses it to scare a tango shitless out side of the enemy base. He doesn't admit it but he likes 'talking' to the local wild dogs with you. He even enjoys hearing you and Mutt go off at each other because it means your both alive and still here. -Out side of the field and when you two go out to roam the town at the dead of night, he comes to see that the canine noises you and Mutt share gives you peace. The kind he used to find in cigars and smoke. He gets it, he knows that some people just have a vice. When you find him smoking alone behind his own home, he shrugs it off and blames it on the smoke detectors. He doesn't say that he stops to make your K-9 more comfortable in his home. He doesn't stop smoking but he tries to avoid it for your sake. You only corner him around a day or so to thank him. He won't admit to the red flaring up on his ears, but he tells you to drop it. -If he's ever the one who finds you when your having an attack, he will guard you. Get you safe and comfortable then he will become a gruff mother bear and be completely over protective of you. He only calms down when he sees that Mutt already does that, and he learns what can help you, what to look out for. He won't admit it though.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley: (734 words)

-Ghost didn't like you at first. or well he doesn't like anyone actually but he didn't like you. -You had a dog breed that was originally made for bear bating and he hated that he knew that. Even if you didn't get the hound because of that. Well, that and Mutt is constantly muzzled. It took you explaining it was required by law for him to try and ignore it. -But when he watches how fluidly you and Mutt work together, even seeing the raw fucking power that dog has when Mutt tackled an enemy to the ground, he starts to understand why you have to keep Mutt muzzled. Even if he didn't like it. -Simon has an ex-military dog at home so he knows how to act around an active working dog. He's the best to be around if you don't want people petting or trying to do anything really with your K-9 partner. -when at the base afterwards he sees that the dog isn't just a working dog but acts like you service dog. Everything from crowd control to doing small tasks for you on the daily. To siting between your legs when you have your back to anyone when doing a task to protect you. Mutt will even start doing this quiet sort of 'rueff' sound that will make you get out of where ever you are without any fanfare, you will just disappear. -He only finds out why a lot later. He feel kind of stupid for missing it after the fact. -Its the scars that cross your back and over your shoulders, the hitches of thick skin around your jaw. You are a torture survivor. So suddenly he gets it. Mutt is your safety, the dog wears a muzzle because your K-9 partner is also a person protection dog. -After he realized the why you stick to your partner so closely, he would begin to help Mutt protect you. He would stand ahead of you when Mutt would lay down to create space (crowd control). Ghost would watch your back and react with your partner to help you. -He takes his mask off when you two are either alone or when your are forced to show your scares he shows some of his to help you feel more comfortable. -you start to notice it, and at first you would try to stop him but eventually you just start protecting him back. You become more comfortable around him. Simon notices it to. -One day after a few days straight of being on your feet, both you and Simon end up passed out in his private quarters. Ghost wakes first to see Mutt cuddle against you and draped across him, when ever he tried to move the dog, they would just growl and to his utter amusement you growled back. -After that he gets you to 'talk' to Mutt any time he can, even on missions. - Ghost was the one who told you and Mutt to bark at each other to distract the enemy when on a recon mission. "Copy Riot, we need an in" "Need an in, copy. Any ideas for that L.t?" "Yeah, Riot go off and make some noise with Mutt" "Seriously?" "Yip, get going we need that data" You two got in, and yes you did start howling back and forth with Mutt in the echo trick wolves use. The enemy thought they were surrounded by cayotes. -When you eventually cuddle up with Ghost again, and Mutt yips or growls at you and you make the noise back, Simon will growl at you. It becomes a games between you to, even doing it as call outs outside of coms. Soap complains about wild dogs once and now Simon will get Mutt vocal just to fuck with Soap. -he starts calling you dog related nicknames, your name doesn't exist anymore. Call sign? only when necessary. You are now called with doggie names. He'll call out a, "Heh, Good boy" "Come on puppy you can speak" when you go dark on coms, or just when you don't answer him. Yes he will also say things like, "What ever you say Fido" -He makes you swear to never tell a soul that he also barks back at Mutt when you two are off duty. You caught him coping a growl when playing with Mutt once. -He gets Mutt and his las to meet. Now he also makes dog sounds with you on his down time, even without you much to his old girls delight.

John “Soap” Mactavish: (616 words)

-He loves your K-9 partner from the first time Price introduces you to the team, sure he tries to be professional but the second you let Mutt go off to play out of gear he just wants to give the hound so many pets. They are just so big and have that cute angry tilt to their face! Can you blame him. -when out on the field, he loves running with two of you on missions. The adrenaline and rush and just how much faster you two are than him. He loves it. -You end up doing it with him outside of missions after a while. Hiking out in mountains and secluded valleys, it's the first time he hears you howl with Mutt. The coyotes had started, yipping over whatever they killed lower down the ridge. Mutt, who was a few paces head, had paused to howl, without thinking you howl with them. Scares Soap but he just finds it fun. -Soap being so in love with Mutt leads to just being around you a lot. He starts learning what certain movements mean to you and your dog, how a sharp left with your hand was a call to draw back or how the shift of your stance meant to take the lead. It amazed him how well you read each other. -Then he sees how you act outside of the field, how Mutt still acted like a protector, and you kept mimicking the sounds Mutt made. Especially when you were more tired. He found it cute. Hell, he loved playing with Mutt, so when you made the hound more excited, he also got just as if not more excited. -Soap loves head scratches you find out when you two are off duty and hanging out. He's on the floor with Mutt and the hound he's cuddling wines before you reach down to comfort the dog with head scritches. You miss and pet Soap instead, beside being completely flustered, he asked you to do it again.  He just starts asking you to do it more and more before you start petting him the same way you pet over your hound. -Now you start with the dog related nicknames, even over coms. Much to Soaps embarrassment and the teams delight. He nearly buckles the first time you call him a good boy, and he does when you call him a good dog. Blames it on a miss step. -He loves, loves, loves listening to you, and Mutt yap back and forth, loves even more when you go to rough houses with growls and even try pining you down one. He fails, but he doesn't care. -Soap only catches one of your attacks when it's about sun down. You're both at his place standing in the kitchen when your shoulders suddenly hitch, but you continued on as normal. Until Mutt wandered over to you, they stopped dead before making a gruff noise and jumping up onto you. Instead of getting you secluded because, of course, the hound sees Soaps house as a safe space. And Mutt will get you down, force you to sit and lower your head. "Woh, n'er knew em ta jump? Wait shit. ROIT!" He'll be right there next to you, knows what to do because of Ghosts episodes on recons. "What's it, lad? What can I do ta help 'im?" -You don't really talk about it. Sure, you explain what it was and why Mutt did that, but not the why it happened. It takes a while to admit that the scares you hide are the reason for that attack. He gets it he does, and now? Mother fucker will do dumb shit to distract you, or just talk and talk and talk. It helps, he knows it helps.

König: (764 words)

-Being a sniper, he likes the added security, the extra eyes to help watch his back. Sure, he doesn't trust you per say but he tries to be friendly none the less. -He had no idea what Mutt was trained for until he saw the both of you take down someone who made it to his vantage point. He saw how you moved like Mutt was an extension of yourself, that's how you earn his respect. -König didn't know why you had so many commands for Mutt, but most of them were cues or just situational. Most of all, the verbal commands you use are in Russian and Dutch so he can understand some of the tasks you ask Mutt to do . It kind of scares him that Mutt would know which trail was a friend and which person wasn't. He stands by that fear when he watches you set them off on a run away target. -He will only admit to himself that both you and Mutt look way to good covered in the gore from that attack. -You had to explain that that kind of training meant your partner had to be muzzled. You both get to talking that night, swapping stories of close calls, and König shyly showed you the star splattered scar on his jaw. Lifting his hood up just enough to see it before hurriedly drooping it back down. You share a few of the worse days you had as a call in search and riot guard and snippets of the scars covering your throat. -Habits begin forming. König will be a silent wall between you and crowds while Mutt would start alerting to his anxiety attacks as well. You made a joke about borrowing Mutt to him on the days off. He didn't understand the first time Mutt barked at him in a weird gruff tone before jumping up and doing it again. It's when you get him secluded and safe that you explain it to him. "Its called signaling. They can tell you when these things are going to happen or are actively happening. " "So it's to let me know?" "Yeah, for me, it's when I'm going to either for a flash back or when my paranoia forces me into a panic attack." "Flash back?" "Yes, remember that sister I told you about." -It took days for you to actually relay that story to him. How your team abandoned you, how the enemy held your sisters head above your bloody form. You explained how that caused phantom pains or flashbacks and how crippling that can be some days. -He becomes your solace after that. He would be there when you needed it. Keep people away when you couldn't look at anyone. He even began listening to Mutts alerts. He even lets you help him through the easier ones. -König called you one night when you both were off for the next few days. You could tell by the shake on his breath what was happening before he could tell you. That was when you showed him how Mutt does decompression therapy, the hound big enough to help ground him. You stayed that night, even teaching König some of the commands you use to tell Mutt how to help you. He's quick to learn them as some phrases are Dutch that you use so he can catch the meaning of some commands. -You don't call him until a long while later. It's on a mission while you two are hunkered down after a botched extraction. Or well, Mutt calls him. "Riot? Are you, Oh Scheiße! 「Shit」" "wat 「what」, ag. What can I do? Dir helfen 「Help you」, how can I help. Please let me help you. " -He ended up holding how so you couldn't hurt yourself in these attacks. It didn't feel as entrapped as you thought it would. König is so much bigger than you, but it's like he makes a physical barrier between you and the world. He helps your partner make you feel safe. It's hard to explain to anyone why your panic attacks act like that, why your mind needs pain to calm from feeling like you're dying. König will explain how his attacks can feel suffocating, and that's why his jaw and throat are so bruised most days. -Between one mission and the next, you start showing off things you and Mutt can do to him, like Mutt retrieving throne knives or how the hound can trace any sent it knows for miles. -You only bark back at Mutt one night when trapped in a safe house. Neither of you could find each other, and mutt had run off

Alejandro Vargas: (720 words)

-Learning of the terrorist stationed so close to los vaqueros' home base, Alejandro was quick to reach out. The 141 had helped him before, so he was surprised to learn of the newer recruit they called in to help them. Alejandro told Price to just bring you along. They needed the extra help honestly, as much as he refused to trust any of 141 purely on principle. They needed the help. -He met you with Ruddy on the roof of the office building, and he asked the polit to land on. When you dropped from the helicopter with the others. Mutt held to your chest before being deposited on the ground. He's seen how some of the other search and rescue units who have K-9's, but he's never seen anyone who works with their hound like you do. Alejandro is both grateful and terrified to have you fighting with him.  -Seeing you and Mutt outside the field was even more intriguing. How the two of you reacted perfectly to each other, he saw a bit of himself and Rudy in the way you two work like a well-oiled machine. He tried to play nice, be kind and calm, but when shit hit the fan? He drops it. Its only been a week before you use the recall command on Mutt to level the man they needed to interrogate. Both of you were forced to hunker down in a safe house, Alejandro making the bound man walk with little success. He asked for your help not long after the son had dipped down.  "Think he will talk?" "Not willingly if that file you circulated was true." "Any ideas?" "You aren't scared of loud noises, are you?" "Not really, why?" -When you said you could help, this isn't what he was expecting, but it was working. You had taken to standing behind the tied down guy, and whenever Alejandro could sound even remotely frustrated,  you would call out to Mutt before the dog would lunge with a snarl or harsh bark. Scared the man shitless, and he would mumble about 'de-ablo' or 'deamons' on and off. When things got too harsh, or either of you were cornered, he watched in equal parts horror and delight as you let Mutt cull those surrounding you all. Watch as you both kill together just as well as you work together. -It eventually became a joke, the whole you being a dog or sounding like one. Even when the two of you left the safe house. Hell, he started talking to you like he would your dog. Started to tease you with the same command you used on your hound. "Come on, Roit, I know you can beg better than that." "Here, cachorro cachorro cachorro [puppy puppy puppy]!" "Such a good boy, you want a treat?" "There we go, Good perro. Now sit for me." Even saying he kept treats for when you were especially well behaved. If you didn't also start laughing along he wouldn't have kept doing it and actually started keeping 'treats' on hand for you on the late nights you two would just talk on and on about nothing and everything. -Being back at the base and left to your devices, he started asking about everything Mutt could do. He would ask if you could also do the tricks and inquire about the ones you could. "Wait cariño, you can howl?" "Yeah. Wanna hear me?" "Oh more than anything." "hhhm, maybe I'll do it later." "I'm happy to beg you, but I think you would sound better begging me, cariño." "I don't beg Alejandro." "You will. And you'll sound so good doing it." "Try me," -He loved hearing you talk to Mutt. Just waiting up at night to listen to the back and forth of barking and yips that echo across the open land. Whether from far away or not, he loved it. -Alejandro is the worst when either of you get hurt. He is the worst flirt, and he lays the dog related teasing on twice as thick. Not only is Rudy swearing him out in broken Spanish, but you don't help either. Doing anything to help him stay conscious or playing along to distract yourself from the pain. Even Mutt begins to see him as safe.

More COD Boys x K-9 unit reader 》》》》

[coupleoffanfics]

Part 2 of Batfam and batsis y/n headcons

Masterlist

It was a surprise to see y/n at the of the manor one night after her "outburst" that was a couple months ago. Alfred is happy to see her but notices her troubled expression. She greets him and asks if Bruce was here.

Entering the Batcave for the first time in years, it hasn't changed too much from what y/n remembers. The first to notice her walk in is Damian. "Sister, what are you doing here?" It's always so weird hearing him call her that now. He's never called he that until her "outburst".

This gets the attention of Tim and Babs, making them look away from the monitor. Tim is glad to see her again and hopefully, she is here to mend their broken, not completely burnt, bridges. Babs is also glad to see her as they haven't been communicating as much this past week, but concerned as to what brought her here. She has a feeling that y/n wouldn't come here without a reason.

"I need to talk to Bruce." Damian is almost upset that y/n didn't say she came to see him. He doesn't even have to open his mouth as Bruce is right behind her. Bruce makes his presence known which made y/n jolt up a bit.

Turns around to see him suited up just like the others. Not seeing his full face made her more comfortable oddly.

She takes a deep breath before talking, "I want to clarify that I'm talking to Batman and not Bruce Wayne. I have some information and I desperately need your help." Everyone's interest was already peaked before she said anything.

Bruce watches her pointer finger curl around her hair, her eyes shifted away from him, and her shoulders somehow become even more tense. "Jerome is looking for someone, not me, but I'm worried about them. Wait not looking for he's found them and I- ugh, I'm sure you've already done a background check on him. He has a twin brother and he supposedly wants him dead. I'm…"

All their eyes on her were worsening her anxiety. "I'm best friends with him, Jeremiah Valeska." Babs is already putting the pieces together that Xander Wilde was just an alias. She does remember thinking that they look similar, but she's only met y/n's boyfriend a handful of times and never looked that deep into Jerome's relatives. There wasn't any need to look at his family as long as they aren't committing illegal acts with him.

"Jerome, he did something to Jeremiah. There was this gas and it messed him up. He…" y/n was trying not to get too emotional from talking about a topic that was sensitive to her. "He's not right in the head anymore. It's almost like he's turning into Jerome. He's losing control, he knew a week ago that something is wrong but now he's saying…"

Their eyes and her various feelings on the matter were making her feel that this was a dead end. It's been nearly three months and things have been getting progressively worse. As she looks at Bruce and all she expects is to be rejected. To tell her that she was overreacting and that time was going to heal whatever this mess was.

y/n looked Bruce in the eyes and for the first desperately begged, "Please. Please help find a cure or something to end Jeremiah's madness. I…" She choked back the urge to say that she loved him. There wasn't a need for that and she'd rather keep them in the dark about her life. "…I don't want to lose my best friend. I know you're busy, but I had try asking. Just tell me now if you'd be able to help in any way possible and I'll leave you alone."

This came out of nowhere, but with y/n looking Bruce in the eye with glassy and a scared look in her eyes. How could he say no? "I'll do everything I can, but I'll need a blood sample."

Anything that he said after that went in and out of y/n's ears. She was just relieved that she had the greatest detective help her. "Yeah, um, I can do that." Her voice was softer than a few seconds ago. She wiped the tears of relief with her palm and quickly made her way out of the cave.

Tim wanted to go after her, but Damian was already following behind her and Babs gave him a discouraging look. Babs finally understood why y/n has been so quiet these past weeks. She also knew that y/n needed time to herself and she'd hope that Damian would understand that. She thinks Bruce knew that as well as he stared at the exit for a moment before swiftly going back to work.

Damian kept calling out to his sister before grabbing her wrist. y/n really wanted to shake off his hand and tell him to just leave her alone. Though feeling how firm his grip is she knew it would probably be best to go with whatever to not trigger another meltdown. That was the last thing she ever wanted to see or deal with.

Genuinely though she didn't know why he followed her. It didn't matter if he was trying to repave their relationship, she always expects the worst to come out of his mouth. As a shield, she says what he thinks he'll say. Putting herself down before he or anyone can do it.

"Yeah, I know I shouldn't be down there. It's no place for me and I get in the way. I'm not going to lie and say I'm fully sorry. I am, but I need to try everything to save him, and if that means you'll all have to bear witness to a living failure once more then so be it."

Damian is stuck by her words again and lets go of her as if her skin burns him. He was unsure of how to respond to that, but that wasn't the reason he was there. He tells her with full confidence, "Father will find a cure. Your friend will be okay."

She doesn't look at him. Surprised that he didn't degrade her and slightly smiling that he was comforting her. "Thank you, Damian, that was nice of you to say." Then walks out of the manor just like last time, but this night Damian can fall asleep without regretting eating him alive.

Bruce hires a team of toxicologists. Buys a whole new laboratory for the team. Making sure that there is progress being made while he's not working on it. Tim is the one who spends the most time searching for a cure.

The day after y/n would make her regular trip to the psychiatric hospital with Tim watching from a distance. Tim wasn't stalking y/n he'd claim fully knowing that's exactly what he's doing. He just felt that something was missing and he just wanted to know. He was sick of all her secretiveness. He's given y/n some space after her "outburst" unlike Damian and Dick. So he feels like he could do this because it's not like he forcing her to be around him like the other two.

But regardless the stalking. He was concerned about seeing y/n walk into a mental hospital. It wasn't Arkham, but personally knowing her track record of depressive episodes made him wonder why she was here. Was she admitting herself again?

y/n going through a mental low is difficult no matter how many times Tim sees and helps her through it. She'd stop having this bubbly aura around her. Not being able to get out of bed. There were few times she talked of how hopeless and empty she felt. When she had these episodes they'd never last a few days. They'd always be a week and the worse he's personally seen it last for 2 months. Then the mental image of her dealing with this on her own and coming to the point that she felt the need to admit herself was devastating to him in many ways.

Disguised as part of the staff, Tim followed y/n. Quickly realizing that she wasn't admitting herself, but visiting. He stood by the door of the patient's room that she dispersed in and closed the door. Interestingly Echo walked out of the room at one point and went back.

Seeing y/n standing by the door and about to leave, Tim quickly put some distance between himself and her. Watching y/n, Echo, and a man wearing a hat walk out. Following close behind as they left the hospital and entered the parking garage. He noticed how closely y/n and the man were walking together while Echo walked behind them.

Suddenly Echo came to a halt making the others stop and look at her. Then she ran full force toward Tim and pushed him against the concrete wall. A sharp knife pressed against his throat.

The handful of times Tim has seen Echo he's never seen her exhibit any emotion. There was a sort of underlying anger as she calmly ask who he was and why he following them. He's not able to get his mouth open because y/n runs up panicked while the man walks slowly.

y/n doesn't even need a second to see that it was Tim. Makes Echo let go of him before asking what he was even doing there. There is no good lie that he can come up with on the spot and he knew lying was just going to make y/n more upset than she already was.

"You never talk or are around anymore. You're so secretive now that it makes me worried." Tim would continue if he didn't notice y/n clench her jaw. He would have to be blind to not see y/n trying to keep her cool.

That's when the man placed his gloved hand on her shoulder. Just that simple action alone got rid of any tension in y/n. The man would introduce himself as Jeremiah.

Tim felt uncomfortable by Jeremiah. It could have been the fact that y/n did say his mental sanity has deteriorated, but Tim could just feel something was off with him. His bright green eyes remind Tim of someone. His face also looked to be caked with makeup and the way he talked was unnerving.

The three leave Tim behind. y/n stating that they'll talk about 'this' later. He goes back to the manor even more perplexed by everything.

Later that day y/n drops by the manor. Trying to be discreet as possible because she doesn't want to trigger Damian jumping out. Handing the blood sample to Bruce then turning her attention to Tim.

They have a long drawn-out conversation about what transpired earlier. Explaining why he felt the need to follow her and how he wants her to be open with him.

"— I want us to friends again." That made y/n's heart and mind stop for a moment. Just a moment because she immediately rebuttals. Not trying to mean when saying she doesn't want to be near any of them. That just things change, that they've changed, and they drifted apart. That he had nothing to worry about, but to also never do that again.

y/n spends most of her time with Jeremiah until she has classes and takes a minute to drop by the manor for any updates. Now that y/n is visiting the manor, Damian doesn't surprise her with visits anymore. Since she comes over quite often, daily almost.

He always tries to prolong her time there. He remembers the few things she's interested in. Art and fencing. He'll try almost bribe her to spend more time with him. Mentioning that he's going to an art museum or that he's done with his latest painting. It doesn't get her attention. Talks about how he's got tickets for a fencing match, but that doesn't interest y/n in the slightest.

It's like she's purposefully ignoring him. It's not the case, but that's beside the point. One day when y/n drops by and gets ready to leave, Damian walks up to her with one question. "Can you teach me how to fence?"

Taken aback the question y/n has to take a moment to register it. She sighs, "You're better off getting a professional trainer because I haven't held a saber or epee in a hot minute." She's not even trying to avoid Damian even though he just reminds her how much of a failure she is. She's just being honest.

The boy is becoming visibly frustrated. Panicking and remembering his last tantrum, y/n quickly says that she'll teach him the basics after her classes. Seeing that he was calming down y/n makes a quick escape.

After her last class, she sees Damian waiting right outside of her classroom. Once she's in his peripheral vision he tries to drag her back to the manor and into the newly established fencing room, but she needs to make a quick stop.

Will not let her go alone no matter what. So she kinda has no choice but to bring him along. It's nothing new. She makes a quick call informing someone that she'll have someone with her before jumping into her car. They take a long ride out of Gotham and into the woods. Making Damian wonder where the hell y/n is going.

The second one to meet Jeremiah is Damian. Jeremiah only politely greets him before leaving to talk with y/n in another room. The first impression Damian has of Jeremiah is not a good one. Highly suspicious of him and is not comfortable letting y/n be alone in a room with him. Low-key impressed by the labyrinth that Jeremiah calls his house and likes the interior of the living room. Every classy.

Would have put his ear against the door to hear what they were saying if it wasn't for Echo. She was staring him down. He's pretty sure she hasn't blinked since they got here. Going off what Tim said to the others about Echo possibly being y/n's lover, Damian wonders what y/n sees in Echo.

When they leave and get back into the car Damian brings up Echo. "Your girlfriend should learn how to blink." y/n almost stomped on the breaks. "Girlfriend...? Echo?" She's very confused. "Who else am I talking about." This is when she learns that the whole family thinks she's dating Echo. The idea is funny but also irked her because that was far from the truth. Calmly explains to Damian that isn't the case and that she was simply Jeremiah's bodyguard. Damian can't wait to tell Tim that he was wrong.

Once they get back to the manor y/n teaches Damian about fencing. First going over the rules and the 4 types of fencing before doing anything physical. Surprisingly time flew by. They probably would have been fencing all night if Alfred didn't interrupt them for dinner. y/n planned on leaving, but Damian convinced her to at least stay for dinner because Alfred made her favorite dish and dessert.

This is around the time y/n starts to think that Damian isn't too bad. Out of everyone in the family, Damian is probably the one she'd be the most lenient towards. She's lenient towards the whole family, but Damian is still relatively young. He was able to move on from his horrible childhood, even though that resulted in him lashing out, y/n can forgive that to an extent. Deep down she sees him as her little brother even after their rough patch.

The fact that he isn't breaking into her apartment and trying to connect with her, makes her think that it's safe to be around him. That she isn't going to be verbally reminded that she's one of the most worthless human beings to be alive.

She starts straying a little longer at the manor to mentor Damian a few times. He starts to worry when she easily has the wind knocked out of her and has a cough that doesn't go away. She tells him that it's nothing to worry about. Might lie to him if doesn't give up on the topic by saying she's developed asthma. The lie isn't implausible since anyone can develops asthma at any age and it is hereditary.

It calms Damian down a little. Now he constantly carries an inhaler just in case y/n needs it. She feels so bad lying to him, but she thinks it's for the best that everyone should stay in the dark about her medical condition.

Seeing y/n willingly hang out with Damian gets under Tim's skin. He's given her space unlike Damian, except for that one time but it was only one time. The little gremlin has been harassing her since that one "outburst". He'd want to pull out the 'I knew her longer' card, but he knows how petty it would be. Who she hangs out with isn't his problem and he should mind his own business.

He does mind his own business, but he may occasionally check the cameras to see what y/n and Damian are up to. That's all he swears. Oh, my god, they're going to orchestral concerts and museums together now!? This is so unfair Tim thinks to himself.

They use to be so close.

Honestly, Bruce is thankful for Damian. He's keeping y/n around the manor longer so she can be completely safe from the madness of Gotham. It's also good to know that she's willingly interacting with one of her brothers. It almost warms his heart to see her not be so anxious while in the manor. Just almost because she shouldn't have to feel anxious in the first place. This was the place she once called home, it should make her feel safe not anxious.

Remember the team of toxicologists?

If you don't that's fine. They were killed by the bomb placed in the laboratory, so it's not like they'd be brought up again.

Everyone thinks it's Jerome. The loss of innocent life and y/n suddenly going missing seems like a Jerome thing to do. When they hunt down Jerome, he just kinda shrugs his shoulders while doing a poor job at hiding his smile. Damian wants to scratch his face off or rip his face off depending on the state of it. Dick has to hold back the little monster while Bruce interrogates the ginger.

It goes nowhere until Jerome gets bored of interrogation and tells them, "I'm tired of him thinking that he's better than me. We're quite the same, but I'm the better one. I just had to give him a fresh air of courage to be his true self." Everyone understands what he's say and also groaning that they have to deal with another fucking Valeska.

BONUS

Jerome, Jeremiah, Joker, and Harley being a sort of dysfunctional family is a fun idea. (Inspired by this) Joker and Harley enable the twins' unhealthy love for y/n Wayne.

Harley is more "innocent" in her enabling because she sees nothing wrong with it. The staking, the murder, it's nothing when it's the name of love. (When she leaves Joker for Ivy, she might feel guilty for egging them on. That she played a part in instating y/n into a toxic relationship. Out of anyone, she'd be the one to understand what's it like to be in one. This might motivate her to help keep y/n safe in the future.) Out of the two Harley is rooting for Jerome. He just seems like the lesser evil for y/n.

Joker finds the whole thing funny and pathetic at the same time. The twins are destroying half of the city for a girl, it almost makes him want to roll his eyes. Almost because of the lengths they'll go to. How they're always butting heads and seeing how distraught the girl gets is fun. He can't help but laugh at it. He'll be putting his money on Jeremiah because he sees potential. He's not reckless like Jerome or impatient, Jeremiah is in it for the long haul.