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rafecameronssl4t · 10 days ago

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Baby daddy || Drew Starkey x fem!reader

Summary: Drew being a protective dad in front of papparazzi

Warnings: none

Word count: 853

MASTERLIST

Emerging from the grocery store, you balanced two hefty bags in your hands. Beside you, Drew effortlessly carried your one-year-old daughter, Sydney, in one arm while his other hand clutched another bag of groceries. His strong arms seemed to envelop your little girl, making her look even tinier and more precious as she giggled, tugging at the collar of his shirt.

The North Carolina sun cast its golden glow over the pavement as the three of you made your way to the car. As you approached the vehicle, Drew's keen eyes spot a group of paparazzi lingering, their cameras slung casually over their shoulders—but their intentions were clear. Drew’s posture stiffened slightly as he instinctively adjusted Sydney in his arms, shielding her face with his large hand.

The protective gesture, one you’d both honed over the past year, was second nature now. “They’re far away,” Drew murmured, his voice calm but tinged with caution. “We should be fine.” Nodding, you unlocked the car with a quick click of the key fob. Drew leaned into the backseat, carefully securing Sydney into her car seat.

You caught a glimpse of the paparazzi’s lenses glinting in the sunlight as they began snapping photos. The invasive attention sent a ripple of unease through you, but you kept your focus on your daughter. From the front seat, you angled your body slightly, subtly blocking their view. Drew finished buckling Sydney in, his sharp blue eyes darting toward the photographers before flickering back to you.

He could sense your discomfort; it was written all over your face. He gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll go to talk to them,” he said, his tone firm but steady. Your eyes widened slightly. “Are you sure? You don’t have to,” you murmured, biting your lip. He shook his head with a small smile. “It’ll be quick,” he promised, shutting the car door gently behind him.

You watched as Drew strode toward the group, his towering figure radiating quiet confidence. Though you couldn’t hear the conversation, the body language spoke volumes. Drew gestured calmly, his hands moving with a mix of assertiveness and understanding. The photographers seemed to respond in kind, their stances softening as they nodded in agreement.

“Hey, guys,” Drew began, his voice measured but firm. “I get it—this is your job. But Y/n and I are doing everything we can to keep our daughter out of the public eye. I’m just asking if you can blur her face in any photos you’ve taken.” One of the paparazzi, an young man with a camera slung around his neck, spoke up. “Totally understand, Drew. Honestly, I don’t think we’ve got any clear shots of her face, but if we do, we’ll make sure to blur it. No problem.”

The others murmured their agreement, flipping through their cameras to double-check. They even angled their screens to show Drew, confirming their commitment. Drew nodded, a grateful smile tugging at his lips. “Thanks, I really appreciate it. Have a good day, guys,” he said before turning and making his way back to the car.

As he climbed into the driver’s seat, you released a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. Your eyes met his, gratitude shining through. “Thank you for handling that,” you said softly, reaching over to intertwine your fingers with his. He brought your hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles. “Of course. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect Sydney,” he replied, his voice low and sincere.

Adjusting the rearview mirror, Drew glanced at Sydney, who was babbling happily in her car seat, her tiny fingers reaching for the sunlight streaming through the window. The sight brought a soft smile to his face, one that mirrored your own. Later that evening, as the two of you were unwinding on the couch, a notification pinged on your phone.

Drew’s sister had sent you a tweet from one of the photographers he’d spoken to earlier. The post read: Just had a run-in with Drew Starkey, and I have to say, he’s one of the nicest celebs I’ve ever encountered. Politely asked us to blur his daughter’s face in photos and handled the conversation with total grace. Big respect for him! Scrolling through the comments, you couldn’t help but smile.

Fans were flooding the thread with admiration, praising Drew for his unwavering dedication to his family’s privacy. “That’s my man,” you teased, nudging him playfully. Drew chuckled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer. “All in a day’s work,” he said, his voice tinged with humour. But as he pressed a kiss to your temple, you knew his actions came from a place far deeper than duty—a place of love and devotion for the family you’d built together.

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Liked by drewstarkey, madelyncline, mackayla_davila, obx and others

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drewstarkey: I love you both so much ❤️

↘️ yourusername: I love you!

user1: sometimes I forget Drew isn’t single and has a child 😔

user2: how does it feel to live my dream y/n???

user3: baby daddy drew is all I need

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security-doors · 2 years ago

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#Carpentry services Sydney #Custom security screen doors #Retractable screens #Custom blinds Narellan #Outdoor window privacy screens

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tridentglassrepairau · 2 years ago

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#glass repairs sydney #window glass replacement #glass roof panels #repairing glass #glass sliding doors #glass pool fencing #shower screen replacement #glass office partitions #shower screen repairs #glass pool fencing

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newsbites · 2 years ago

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#windows #cars #tsla #screen cleaner #news #Sydney #Australia #world news

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thebearer · 2 years ago

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follow me |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: the bear needs a social media rebrand. sydney hired you, and carmen gets more than just followers after meeting you.

an: bad descript i'm sorry lol. basically you're a social media manager and carmen likes you lol or how you and carmen meet <3 also thinking this will be a part 1???? lmk if you want a part 2!!!

contains: reader is a social media manager. language. carmen denying himself happiness ofc. mentions of mikey. fluff, fluff, fluff!!!

“What the hell is this?” Sydney’s voice raised, brow raised even higher to heighten her suspicions. Maybe her disgust.

After Carmen looked at the snarl on her face, he decided it was definitely disgust.

“What?” Carmen shrugged, looking at the screen in front of him. “It’s the, uh, The Beef’s old Instagram.”

“Right.” Sydney said slowly, blinking at Carmen obviously. “The Beef, and we are not that anymore. We are The Bear.” She scrolled for a moment. “They also haven’t posted since twenty-twenty, which is-”

“-Well, Mikey ran it, alright?” Carmen huffed, glaring at Sydney with annoyance. “I just found the fuckin’ password on a fucking gum wrapper in a folder labeled ‘important shit’ so I don’t know what to tell you.”

Sydney nodded slowly, looking back at the phone, before sighing deeply. “I know what you should do.” She said, typing on her phone. Carmen grunted, still looking at the piles of order forms for produce in front of him. “You need a social media manager, because Carm, this? It's not gonna work.”

“Social media what?” Carmen’s brows creased, shaking his head. “I don’t- no, I don’t need to do that. I’ll just, I’ll get Gary or fuckin’ Sweeps or Fak to run-”

“No, no, Carmen, seriously? Look at this. There’s- oh my God- there’s a thing here that says bring your own plate and you’ll get a free drink, Carmen… What the fuck?” Sydney sighed, shaking her head at him.

Carmen nodded, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I-I’m thinking that was a, uh, a Mikey special.” He muttered, pinching his eyes shut. “I can’t afford to hire someone on the payroll for that long, ok? Not when I could hire another hostess or-or a runner.”

“They only come in to revamp and get it started. Just a little kick start for now. To get us started.” Sydney explained, clicking on her screen. “Look, I have a mutual friend with this girl who’s really fuckin’ good, ok? She did Lobo’s that pizza place? Got them from two hundred to eighteen thousand followers in like two or three months.”

Carmen’s eyes flashed, looking at Sydney with a raised brow. “Seriously? Fuck…” Carmen looked at the screen, the crisp photos, videos, fun and trendy- vibrant and alluring. He hated to admit it, but it was good.

“Look, Carm, it’s free advertising, ok? You catch the influencers if it goes viral. Could really put this place out there.” Sydney countered. “It’d be a lot cheaper than paying for some shitty advertisement on the news that no one watches anyways. Could bring in a lot of business and attention.”

Carmen’s fingers drummed against the counter, sighing sharply. “Fine, whatever, see if you can get her in and just… Just tell me how much I need to put aside, alright? I’ll push the new glasses until then.”

Sydney smiled triumphantly, nodding at Carmen. “Yes, Chef.” She saluted, walking out of the office.

Three days later, you were standing outside of The Bear, newly opened, freshly renovated, and steady but not booming. “Uh, excuse me?” You waved through the window at the man in the beanie, looking at you carefully.

“Hey, we’re closed until dinner, alright? But you can-”

“Oh, no. I, uh, I’m not here for eating.” You cringed, shaking your head. “I’m looking for Sydney? Or Carmen? I’m the new social media person?”

“Social media?” The man repeated, pushing the door open further. “Oh, shit! You’re the girl who does the, uh, Lobo and Avec!”

“Yeah, I am.” You blushed, walking into the restaurant.

“I love watching those reels of the asmr cutting the bread. Ugh, I watch it every night before going to bed.” The guy laughed, locking the door behind you. “Oh, I’m Marcus by the way.”

You took his extended hand, introducing yourself, while you took in the fixtures on the wall, the art, the overall ambiance. “I am going to get Carmen, but you can stay right here if you want.” Marcus grinned, pushing the sliding doors open.

You set your things down, pulling out your notebook, and looking around the restaurant. You knew that this was once The Beef, Sydney had sent you a few things about Carmen’s credentials and you looked up the rest. Impressed was an understatement, a guy your age that had ran the best restaurant in the world? Quite possibly was the best chef in the world or at least Chicago and needed your help? You were nervous, to say the least.

Marcus called your name, making you jump slightly as you turned around. “Uh, so this is Carmen. He’s the owner, the head chef.”

“Hi,” You were met with piercing blue eyes, hidden under a stray blonde lock of hair. Carmen’s hand reached for yours. “Nice to meet you. Sydney, uh, she couldn’t stop tellin’ me about your work. Thank you for helpin’ us out.”

“No, no, thank you.” You reached for his hand, strong, a little rough, trying not to stare at his inked fingers. “It’s a pleasure to work with you. She told me a little about you, about the restaurant. It’s very impressive. Surprised you needed me.” You grinned.

Carmen bit back a smile, looking down to hide his blush. Fuck, Sydney said you were good at your job, she failed to mention that you were so fuckin’ pretty too. Carmen could feel his heart fluttering in his chest, taking flight like he was a middle schooler again with a school yard crush.

“So, if you have time, I want to go over some goals with you?” You say, gripping your notebook tightly.

“Goals. Right, uh,” Carmen looked through the back doors. “Sydney is on her break, and-and my sister, Sugar- well, her name is Natalie, she’s like our manager. Richie too, uh, shit- I’m sorry that’s a lot of people, I know.” Carmen shook his head, an anxious laugh pealing out from his lips. “Those are the people you need to talk to, basically. I can grab them, just-”

“-But you’re the owner, right?” You asked, lifting a brow gently.

“No, I mean, yeah, I am.” Carmen stuttered.

“Then I need to talk to you, too.” You gave him a small smile. “I mean, you know this place better than anyone, right? All the ins and outs? And from what Sydney told me, you redid this entire place. Right?”

“Yeah, I did.” Carmen nodded. Fuck, he kept staring at your lips, he didn’t mean to, he was just… he was distracted.

“So, we can all meet if you want, or I can do it one at a time.” You pulled your pen out of your notebook, looking at him with a gentle smile. It had Carmen’s heart racing. “I just have a few questions about the vision.”

“The vision?” Carmen repeated, swallowing around the growing lump in his throat.

“Yeah, the vision.” You smiled. “Just… tell me about this place. Tell me about you.” You slid into the chair across from him.

Carmen wiped his hands on his pants, turning to look at the doors, hoping someone would come to his rescue. He wasn’t good at talking, especially not to pretty girls, especially about himself. Still, he couldn’t leave you sitting there. He’d hired you after all, and you were here to help him. So he sat down across from you, hoping you didn’t see the way his knee bounced under the table, hoping you couldn’t hear how his heart pounded.

“So, Carmen Berzatto,” You grinned, every syllable of his name rolling off your tongue so sweetly, Carmen was sure he was going to faint. “Tell me about The Bear. Why did you start it?”

“Well, it was The Beef before. And-And my parents owned it, then my brother Mikey did…” Carmen started, watching the way you scribbled, eyes flickering to him with a small smile.

“Hello!” You called, pushing through the back door. They’d given you the code a week ago, so you didn’t have to wait or pound on the front door until someone took mercy and let you in. “It’s content day!” You sang, cheery and bright.

Carmen could hear the pretty trill of your voice, trickling down the hall and into the kitchen. Tina smirked, watching the way he stopped, turning to look at you, blush rising under his white shirt. “Hey, Jeff,” Tina smirked, his head snapping to her. “Your girl’s here.”

The staff had been teasing Carmen relentlessly about how smitten he was with you. Something he’d been so reluctant to do, he now looked forward to. Carmen swore it was because of your work. You had taken them from the measly six hundred followers they’d had since they started the account in twenty-eleven to six thousand, strategic posts and tags and tagging a few buzz accounts that were Chicago foodies. Business had gone up, reservations filling slowly. Followers poured in from TikTok, from the reels, from the posts. One tag from a micro Chicago influencer had brought in a good chunk and was still, all because of a photo with the pretty light features and the dessert.

“Where’s the Bear?” You grinned, passing Sydney, camera in hand, bag slung over your shoulder. You pushed open Carmen’s office, dropping your bag in there. He’d told you that you could keep your things in there, since you didn’t have a locker, of course- and not at all because that meant he’d see you before you left.

“He’s in here, baby!” Tina called, smirking at Carmen.

“C’mon,” Carmen shook his head, a deep breath to keep him from looking so flushed. It worked for a moment, of course, until you rounded the corner. All bright smiles and fuck, you smelled so good. Camren wanted to drown himself in your perfume. “Good morning, Bear.” You beamed.

Carmen grinned, cheeks heating with every step you took forward. “Mornin’.” He muttered, looking at the clock.

“It’s content day.” You grinned, shaking your camera lightly. “Tell me you got something good for me, Chef. What's the special this week?”

“A lamb tenderloin with a gorgonzola sauce served over pasta- house made, of course.” Carmen answered.

“Of course.” You repeated with a tiny grin. You turned on your camera, taking a test shot, before you looked at Carmen carefully. “Ready whenever you are, Chef.”

Carmen bit back his own grin, clearing his throat lightly. “How do I start it? The same as last time?”

“Yep.” You nodded, pressing the camera to your eyes. “Tell me your name, name of the restaurant, and then just this week's special.”

“On your mark.” Carmen nodded, picking up his clean utensil.

“On yours.” You laughed. “I’m already recording.”

Carmen spoke to the camera easily, trying to stay trained on the lens and not at you. How you’d grin and nod encouragingly at him, zooming in closer as he chopped, seasoned, pulled the already prepared and finished product out of the oven.

Richie crossed his arms, leaning against the wall next to Sugar, lips pursed knowingly. “I know you’re thinkin’ the same shit as me.”

Sugar hummed. “That Carmen’s into her?”

“Way fuckin’ into her.” Richie grinned, watching as Carmen blushed, grinning back at you, genuine and a little shy at your compliment.

“Fifty bucks says he doesn’t make a move.” Sugar looked at Richie.

Richie snorted, scoffing with a shake of his head. “Alright. I’ll take your bet. I say he does.”

“Get ready to be out of fifty dollars, Cousin.” Sugar said smugly. “This is Carmy we’re talking about. Not Mikey. Carmen’s not gonna make a move on her.”

“Eh, not so quick, my dear, Natalie. Carmen’s changed a little since this place.” Since the horrendous freezer incident with Claire. “He really likes her too, look at ‘em.” Richie nodded, watching as Carmen held the spoon out for you, blushing when your hand touched his to take it, groaning before smothering him in compliments. Tina looked at Richie, amused and grinning from across the room.

“Carmen will seal the deal. It’ll be last fuckin’ minute and it will be a mess, because it’s fuckin’ Carmen, but… I believe in him.” Richie nodded.

Natalie snorted. “I genuinely hope you’re right, Cousin.” She looked at Carmen with a small smile, watching the way he looked at you, eyes cutting like he was being so cool about keeping his feelings underwraps. “I really do.”

That night, Carmen lied in bed, scrolling through his footage from the day, seeing the video pop up from @/thebearchicago. Set to classical music, snobby and dramatic, the cuts, Carmen’s voice laid over describing the meal for the week, and a particularly good close up of his hands cutting the onions fiercely. Carmen was shocked to see the number of likes… the number of comments flooding in.

“the cameraman knew exactly what they were doing lmao”

“New necklace available!!!”

“I will give you my vital organs and let you chop them up like that if you let me watch chef please”

“What the fuck?” Carmen snorted lightly, shaking his head, scrolling through the comments. He clicked to the main page of the restaurant, seeing you were just a few away from ten thousand followers. Fuck… Sydney was fucking right. You were good.

Carmen’s face fell, mind racing and screaming with the reminder that you were only there for a few more days. He’d only hired your for two months- two glorious fucking months. You seemed… permanent now. Like he couldn’t imagine you not coming in on Tuesdays and Thursdays and after three on Fridays. You were a staple there. The staff loved you, you were good, and-

And Carmen really liked you. Liked having you around. Looked forward to talking to you. To get the chance to lean over your shoulder as an excuse to touch you when you showed him a preview of a post. Or when you’d send him cute text messages, a funny comment attached, your text reading: “you’re a hit, bear! they love you!”

It was like you could read his mind, your contact flashing across the screen at him.

To: Carmen

‘told you this would be a good one! the fans love you berzatto!!!’

Carmen grinned, the faint twinge of a blush on his face. He could feel his heart racing, fingers dancing over the keyboard, and worst of all- he could hear Mikey’s fucking voice in the back of his head. A nagging tone repeating over and over and over, “Let it rip, Bear! Don’t be such a pussy! Ask her out!”

Carmen looked at his screen, fingers typing out the message, a short, less than smooth invite to make you a special thank you dinner and his place- a date. He hoped you picked up on it. Heat hammering in his chest, he could feel his chest tighten, ribs knitting together uncomfortably, stomach twisting in the worst way.

So, Carmen did what he always did.

From: Carmen

‘Never doubted you. Thank you. The video was great.’

He watched as the blue sent, the delivered turning into seen, and followed by your thumbs up over the text. Carmen put his phone on the table, lying back on his pillow, but he couldn’t sleep. His stomach still turned, unsettled with regret.

“Oh! Marcus stop!” You gasped, Carmen’s head turning at the sound of your voice. “You didn’t need to do all of this!”

“Yeah, I did.” Marcus beamed. Carmen turned the corner, seeing a beautifully piped cake there, candles and icing cursive that read “thank you!” in the middle of the buttercream. “You’re cool and you got us on the map, girl. Plus, we’re gonna miss you.”

“Yeah,” Sydney nodded, holding a small balloon that said that exact phrase on it. “We will miss you.”

“I’ll miss you guys.” You grinned, hugging them both tightly. “This has been my favorite job so far. You guys have been so nice. Way nicer than a lot of these assholes around here.” You grinned.

Richie stood on the wall, foot tapping, eyes darting back from you to Carmen. He could see his cousin’s stuttering movements, hesitant and careful, before retreating back into himself. C’mon, Carm, fuckin’ do it, Richie thought, shaking his head. Carmen wouldn’t though, wouldn’t let himself be happy. Richie took a deep breath, head shaking with annoyance.

“Goddammit, Berzatto,” Richie muttered, pushing off the wall. “You know, sweetheart, it’s been so great having you. Seriously, you blew us all away.” Richie said, walking towards you.

You smiled. “Thanks, Richie. I really appreciate it.”

“And you know what, we want to really show how much we appreciate you.” Richie’s eyes cut to Natalie, a silent plea to help him out. “I had a cancellation for this evening, and I would love for you to come instead. Let us really cook for you, give you the whole experience. No bill, of course. All on the house, for you, my dear.”

“Oh, I-I couldn’t let you guys do that.” You shook your head politely, eyes cutting to Carmen’s.

“No-No, please.” Carmen nodded, finally speaking. Richie sighed silently in relief. “It would be great actually. Please?”

You felt your heart melt, nodding softly. Before you could even reply, Richie was stepping up again. “And you know what? You gotta do one last post for us, right? The big chef spotlight one. The, uh, c’mon, Sydney what am I lookin’ for here?”

“Oh, the one about the staff spotlights?” Sydney asked.

“That’s the one. See, that’s it. And you’ve done everyone except the big boss.” Richie pointed at Carmen, ignoring the way the younger man’s face fell.

“I didn’t get one-” Fak started, Richie shoving him out of the way.

“You gotta end with Carmy, and it's funny because it’s gonna be real slow tonight anyways. Wednesday, ya know? And I think what better way to experience the night, really craft that staff spotlight thing, than with Carmen. The two of you, have dinner and get to talk.” Richie knew it was rocky, not at all smooth, but it was the best he could do.

“What? Cousin, what are you-”

“-No, you’re right, Richie.” Sugar added, stepping towards Carmen, and cutting him off. “And Carm, you were saying you wanted to see everything in action for yourself. You do the customer experience so you make sure everything’s good, and we’ll serve you both dinner. All the stops.”

“How’s that sound?” Richie clapped his hands together, nodding at Tina, who grinned.

“Jeff, it would be really nice to make sure we can work without your instructions. A good night for it too.” Tina added.

“Yeah, and Sydney’s got it.” Richie nudged the girl beside him.

“Totally, Carm- uh, Chef. I’ve got it.” Sydney nodded, catching on to Richie’s glare at her.

Carmen felt like he could melt into the floor, face red and palms sweaty. His ears were ringing, tongue swelled thick in his mouth. You looked over at him with a small smile. “I mean, that does sound really nice. If-If it’s ok with you guys, you don’t have to-”

“-Oh no,” Richie shook his head, walking over to Carmen to clap him on the shoulders. “We insist, don’t we, cousin?” Richie laughed, leaning down to Carmen. “Don’t fuckin’ stand there like a jagoff, say somethin’.” He whispered.

“Yeah.” Carmen said, swallowing thickly around the lump in his throat. “It’s, uh, yeah. That-That sounds great.”

“Wonderful.” Richie beamed. “Six o’clock sounds good for you kids? Give you enough time to get it together.” Richie looked from you to Carmen. “Maybe for some of us to take a shower.”

Carmen could feel the heat rise from his neck to his cheeks, covering him in a furious blush. You giggled. “Definitely gives me time to get a blow out.” You laugh. “See you at six then?”

“It’s a date.” Natalie added, practically bouncing on her toes behind Carmen.

Carmen glared at her, before turning back to you. “Yeah, I-I’ll see you then.”

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zorrasucia · 4 months ago

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❛ i’m not wearing any underwear. thought you’d like to know. ❜ carmy berzatto pls

Hi Anon! ✨

Of course! This is some established relationship naughtiness at The Bear. I hope you enjoy it! 💜

It was one of the first days of fall, and probably one of the last warm days of the year. And so, you were enjoying the weather: wearing your favorite dress and cleaning your apartment with the window open to let the soft breeze in. Your phone rang, the name on the screen read Sydney 🐻.

"Hi, Syd," you greeted her with a smile.

"Hey, uh," she hesitated, the sound of a hectic kitchen in the background. "Remember you told me I could call you when Carmy was being a pain in the ass? I know it was a joke and, you know, I'm not his babysitter and you're not either. Like, I know that. But, uh-" she had a nervous tone in her voice.

"Syd, it's okay," you reassured her. "It's Saturday, I bet things are insane in the kitchen."

"You have no idea," she let out a nervous chuckle. "I seriously wouldn't even be calling if I-"

Syd was right, that you weren't Carmy's babysitter but you could probably talk some sense into him. Besides, you didn't have work today - and they'd probably give you leftovers for your troubles.

"Hey. I'm on my way," you said. "Don't worry."

"Okay, okay," Syd sighed. "I'll, uh, I'll try to chill in the meantime."

You grabbed your keys and bag... You suddenly had a sinful idea and grinned.

You walked through the back door, avoiding servers and chefs, mumbling 'behind' every so often like you'd seen the rest of them do. You could make out Carmy's hoarse voice between all the noise.

"This steak is fucking dead! Refire. Chefs, wake the fuck up!"

"Hey, Carm," you called him.

He turned to look at you, eyes wide and fiery. "What are you doing here?" he rasped.

"Do you have a sec?" you said with a polite smile.

"Not really. I-" he looked disoriented and frantic.

Syd stepped in, looking determined. "I'll handle it. Go."

Carmy led you inside his office, exasperation radiating from him.

"Why are you-?" he started.

"Uh, Syd called," you replied, giving him a knowing look as he closed the door behind you.

"Fuck."

"Yeah. She said you were being a pain in the ass," you leaned on his desk.

"I- uh-" he hesitated, then covered his face, red from the heat of the kitchen but also from anger and shame. "She- she was being nice. I'm being an asshole."

You sat on his desk and sighed. "Thought so."

"Huh?" he tilted his head. You had caught him by surprise.

You gestured for him to come closer, so you could talk softer and look him in the eye.

"Listen, I know it gets super loud in your head, and you get overwhelmed and you lash out," you had seen it happen once or twice. "You need to step down when that happens."

"Syd-" he avoided your gaze. "Yeah, Syd has suggested it."

"So?" you cupped his face and tilted it towards you. "Can you do that? Can you let go for ten minutes and calm the fuck down?"

He blinked hard, stressed.

"I don't know," he confessed after a moment of consideration.

"I think you can, Carm," you encouraged him. Then, you put the second, more inappropriate part of your plan in motion. You grabbed his chef whites, and brought him closer, opening your legs to accommodate him. Then you whispered: "I'm not wearing any underwear. Thought you'd like to know."

Carmy stared at you, mouth agape.

"We're in the middle of service-"

"Listen," you gestured at the door. There were no loud bangs or screams, just the normal bustle of a kitchen; if anything it was quieter than when you first entered. "Syd is handling it. The rest of the kitchen is functioning. The sky isn't falling," you grabbed his face with both hands. "Now, will you just fuck me?"

"Shit."

He leaned down to kiss you hard, all tongue and teeth, biting a little. You ran your fingers through his hair, bringing him closer, crossing your ankles behind his waist.

"I need this to be fucking fast," he rasped against your lips.

"I know," you smiled while untying his apron and unbuckling his belt.

The mere indecency of showing up to Carmy's place of work planning to fuck him had made you wet enough to take him that very moment.

"Condoms?" he asked.

You took one out of your bag and handed it to him, palming his cock impatiently through his trousers.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

He lowered his trousers and boxers just enough to pull out his cock. He grabbed the back of your knees to pull you closer to the edge of his desk, something feral about him. You bunched up your dress all the way up to your hips, confirming that you were indeed bare under it. Carmy's eyes widened.

"Shit..." his fingers touched your drenched pussy. "You planned this, the whole thing."

You nodded proudly, biting on your lip when he entered you.

"Can't believe you showed up, in the middle of service-" he murmured. "Jesus... To fuck me."

"Desperate times," you touched your forehead to his, his gaze intense. He bottomed out and you covered his mouth to muffle a whine. "See? I think you need it."

That was the tiny push he craved.

He fucked you mercilessly, forceful thrusts while he grabbed your thighs hard, keeping you on the edge of the desk, right where he wanted you. His rhythm was frantic, half out of urgency and half out of anger. You kept your hand on his mouth, silencing the tirade of curses and primal groans he was blurting. Your eyes were on him, breathy pleas leaving your lips.

"Give it to me. It's okay. Please. I need you. Please," you weren't sure if he could actually hear it all but you couldn't stop, not when you were so close to your release. Your pussy tightened around his cock, pulsing.

His grip on you faltered, eyebrows raising as he looked at you for confirmation.

You nodded, eyes half lidded in ecstasy. "Let go, baby. Let go."

He gave you a few desperate thrusts, your palm vibrating with the sound of his moans as he came.

Suddenly, the room felt eerily quiet, the only sounds that mattered were Carmy's panting and your heart's beating. You lowered your hand from his mouth to his chest.

"Shit," he closed his eyes, collecting himself.

"Mhmm," you swayed in your seat, moving his softening cock as you did so. "Better?"

He nodded, a little sheepish. "Thank you."

"Hey. Can't do this every time," you said honestly. The likelihood of you coming to fuck some sense into him on weekdays was low to none. "But why don't you think about this next time you're about to lose it?" you suggested.

"You want me to get hard while running the expo?" he chuckled. His heartbeat was slowing down.

"I mean, if that's what it takes to get you to step down and chill, sure," you teased.

While the idea of Carmy fucking his hand while thinking of you was appealing, it seemed a little impractical to do at the restaurant.

"Might just take a smoke break," he offered. "Save the fucking for when I get home."

"Deal," you kissed him and tapped his cheek gently. "Now, come on, get out there."

He got dressed and ready at a dizzying speed, taking time to rearrange your dress and kiss you one last time before returning to the kitchen. He left the door ajar, and you peeked just in time to see him give an apologetic nod to Syd and ask her to continue running the expo. It was a start. You were satisfied.

#this is the last of the 300 followers celebration requests - thank you SO much everyone that sent an ask! 💜💜💜#i'm going to start working on promptober; i've got the vampire one locked and loaded which is quite exciting!#carmy x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto x you #carmy x you #carmy berzatto smut #carmy berzatto fanfiction #zorrasuciasweet300

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meazalykov · 2 months ago

Text

a day in my life

sydney lohmann x contentcreatorwife!reader (requested)

summary: you're a content creator who shares her life with her millions of followers

you open your tiktok app, the bright and colorful icon glowing on your phone screen, you yawn as you spend hours editing– or should you say preparing to share another piece of your life with your vast audience of 3 million followers.

scrolling through your feed, you can't help but feel the warmth of your community surrounding you. every comment under your videos makes you smile, each one a reminder of the positive space you've created.

viewers quickly praise how pretty and gorgeous you look while also expressing their admiration for the delicious meals you whip up, your hygiene hauls, your skincare and haircare tutorials, grocery shopping vlogs, and more.

the positivity is intoxicating, and you thank them for contributing such joyful energy to your day.

the sun filters softly through your kitchen window, casting a golden hue over the space. it feels like the perfect day to create something cozy and comforting—a hearty soup, perhaps, or a flavorful stir-fry, something you know your followers will appreciate and be excited to try.

you set your phone on the countertop, adjusting the camera and tripod until it captures just the right angle of your kitchen and you busy at work. the space is organized yet warm, with hanging herbs in the background, jars of spices lining the shelves, and an array of fresh vegetables waiting for your expert touch.

as you gather your ingredients, you glance over at your pets lounging nearby in the spacious living room.

your three cats, each with their unique personalities, are nestled in their favorite spots—your tabby is laying on the windowsill soaking up the sunlight, your calico sprawled lazily on the kitchen rug closest to you, and the void kitty perched atop a wooden stool, watching you intently.

your dog, an affectionate golden retriever, lays by your feet, occasionally looking up at you with big, adoring eyes as if to say, “what’s for dinner, can you drop something please?”

these little moments bring you joy. you adore taking care of them, and they, in turn, seem to love being a part of your daily influencer journey, often making cameo appearances in your videos.

you begin chopping vegetables as you talk to the camera, the rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board a comforting backdrop to your thoughts.

“what’s your secret to looking so beautiful while cooking?” one comment might ask, while another expresses their desire to make cooking look as fun as you do.

you know that sharing your passion for cooking, hygiene tips, and pet care not only showcases your lifestyle but also encourages your followers to embrace their own routines with confidence.

between chopping, you take a moment to wash your hands, the cool water refreshing against your skin. you make a point to highlight hygiene in your videos, explaining the importance of cleanliness in every kitchen as you scrub away.

“keeping things clean not only makes your food better but also should give you peace of mind,” you say, glancing up at the camera with a playful smile and eyebrow wiggle.

that’s what this is about for you—creating an environment that feels secure and inviting, one that resonates with others who might feel the same way.

as you move on to your next ingredient in the video—a bright red bell pepper—you read the comments on your videos. you feel a rush of excitement. you know your followers are eager to engage.

“what’s your go-to meal for busy weekdays?” someone comments.

you pause, contemplating.

“anything that has rice, vegetables, and some kind of protein!” you replied to the comment, explaining one of your favorite dishes.

the chopping and mixing continue in the video,giving some kind of asmr affect while you talked from the voiceover. each time you look at the comments, you see familiar usernames offering support, commenting on something silly that might’ve happened in your video (one of your cats knocking over the flour), and how gorgeous your meals look.

it’s heartwarming to see names familiar to you—followers who have always been there, cheering you on. they ask questions about your daily routines with the pets, wanting to know how you manage your time, how you balance it all while fulfilling the role of a traditional wife.

you realize your life might not resonate with many— but they still see themselves in your routines.

“this is my favorite part,” you say in the video with a smile as you hear the timer go off for the food you put in the oven, giving a little twirl in front of the camera. the laughter that fills your kitchen feels contagious as you channel your enthusiasm into the moment.

every so often, you peek at your pets, which you do in the video. you held up your calico cat, who meows at the camera before you give her a light kiss on the head. you put her down and the clip cuts to you taking the food off of the stove and out of the oven.

with your pets, you can’t help but share snippets of your pet care routine as well, talking about their feeding times, grooming, and little quirks that make them uniquely lovable. your content is filled with different stuff, which is how you attracted many people to your content.

“my cats love to get into everything,” you chuckle, and you can see your viewers relating to those everyday struggles that come with pet families.

“off topic to the video but do you have any favorite fragrance scents?” you read one comment.

you nodded knowingly before typing to reply to that comment.

“i have a video posted about that coming soon :)”

you happily respond to some comments, knowing it would be unrealistic to reply to all of the comments you get from thousands of users. you genuinely enjoy helping others and answering their questions—whether it’s about your favorite recipes, store vlogs, or trad wife jokes.

as you dive deeper into the comments on your latest tiktok video, you notice a recurring theme: questions about your “husband.”

at first, you chuckle to yourself. you can see why people might think that; after all, the shimmering ring on your finger is hard to miss. it’s a beautiful reminder of your commitment—a symbol of love and partnership.

as you scroll, a sense of mild frustration settles in. many viewers comment on why you never showcase your husband in your videos or joke about him going “off-camera.”

living in munich and posting in perfect english can sometimes create misinterpretations. your followers likely pictured a traditional marriage between a man and a woman, and while a part of you understands the confusion, it feels strange to think that they have constructed an image of your life that doesn’t quite align with reality.

your heart swells with pride knowing you're part of a loving partnership, but there’s a longing to set the record straight. you’re not married to a husband; you’re married to your beautiful wife, sydney.

sydney, a football player for bayern munich, doesn’t post much about her personal life on social media, opting instead to keep her professional and personal worlds somewhat separate. this could explain why your followers often don’t make the connection between the two of you; to most, she’s just an athlete in the spotlight who just cares about her club and her national team.

she works hard, dedicating herself to her sport, and while she’s known widely for her skills on the field, she doesn’t share the same kind of social media presence as you do. it was always you who took the lead in posting, sharing your daily life and exploring the joys of cooking, cleaning, and caring for each other.

as you set the camera up for another video, the ring glimmering on your finger catches your eye once more. you reflect on the day you exchanged vows with sydney three years ago, a small celebration filled with laughter and love among close friends and family.

it was perfect in its simplicity—just two women, madly in love, promising to navigate life together. while you take care of the cooking and household duties, sydney has her own passion and career, bringing balance to your lives.

the dynamic you’ve built over the years is one that thrives on mutual support and respect.

picturing sydney’s infectious smile, you can’t help but feel a pang of longing for her to be part of your videos, sharing moments together with your viewers. however, you know she’s more private, focusing on her career and you privately with her friends and acquaintances.

perhaps it’s time to find a way to bring her into your vibrant world online, to showcase your life together and dispel the assumptions that others have made.

waking up in the morning, the dog was snuggled beside sydney as your calico cat was laying on top of your left leg. the both of you still groggy and half-sleepy. however, sydney didn’t have anything football related so you decided to stay in bed for the bit longer before waking her up.

later, after making breakfast and filming the sizzling sounds of bacon cooking alongside fluffy scrambled eggs, you brewed a steaming pot of coffee. the warm aroma filled the air as you took a moment to scroll on your latest post’s comments.

you posted the video the night before and decided to not check the comments until the following morning.

the reasoning why? you posted your wife for the first time on your page, blowing up the assumptions about you having a, “husband.”

in the video, your “spend the day with me” vlog, you began to prepare lunch by chopping some bell peppers as sydney’s arms wrap around you from behind. relaxed in that clip of the video, you turned your head to see sydney, her playful grin lighting up your heart.

“don’t cut yourself!” she teased, but the video couldn’t hear it since you were doing a voiceover.

syd started planting kisses along your neck, moving from your temple down to your shoulders. it was a spontaneous moment, and you couldn’t help but burst into laughter, knife in hand, with the clip showing the love that was filled in your eyes.

the unsuspecting viewers were treated to an endearing glimpse into your marriage, the warmth and tenderness so apparent even through the screen.

the comments exploded after you posted the video hours before:

“is that a woman you were cuddling with?”

“WOAHHH Y/N IS GAY TOO???”

while many found joy in your representation, others were filled with disbelief. you could feel the surge of both surprise and excitement—when love is real, it knows no bounds. some expressed their admiration, saying “i love that you’re a lesbian trad wife!”

the curiosity didn’t stop there. as the day unfolded, you posted another cute video of sydney playing with your golden retriever in the backyard.

the sun reflected off her hair, illuminating her playful smile as she dribbles a ball with her foot for the eagerly bouncing dog. the clip was heartwarming, showcasing the simple joy the three of you shared—a family moment that anyone could relate to.

however, it was this clip that sent the comments section into a complete frenzy:

“IS THAT SYDNEY LOHMANN?”

“I KNOW I'VE SEEN YOUR WIFE BEFORE WHY DOES SHE LOOK FAMILIAR?”

“that's me in the background drowning in the pool (i’m jealous).”

while a faction of your followers were well-versed in european football, many, especially those from the united states, didn’t immediately identify the familiar figure.

soon, the chatter erupted:

“wait, is she a bayern munich player? i swear ive seen her before?”

“OMG, I love her!”

people started connecting the dots, and as they did, a wave of excitement washed over you. sydney was known in germany for her skills on the field, but now more than ever, they’d see her as a loving partner.

while your heart swelled with happiness at the support spiraling around you, you felt a familiar itch to address all the questions and assumptions.

some of your followers were new, and you wanted to ensure they understood the depth of your relationship with sydney. so you made a decision; it was time to sit down for a more heartfelt conversation about your coming out story and the experiences you both shared navigating your lives together.

the following night, after a long tiring day filled with engagement and a repeat of that joyous exchange of laughter, you set up your camera for a “get unready with me for bed” video.

the lights were dimmed, and the ambiance in your bathroom felt cozy—slippers on your feet, hair pinned back by your pink headband, and your skincare products lined up on the counter cast in soft shadows.

it was an intimate setting, one where you could be vulnerable and share your truth.

as you began applying your cleansing balm, you took a deep breath.

“hey everyone, it’s Y/N. I thought it would be a great time to address everything that’s been going on. I want to share a little bit about my coming out story and what it means to be married to the incredible woman that is my wife, sydney,” you began, feeling the familiarity of camera anxiety dissipating as you focused on the sincerity of your message.

you continued as you moved through your skincare routine, gently massaging the balm into your skin.

“you know, coming out isn’t a one-time event. for me, it first began in high school. there were hints that i was gay around the age of 14 but i didn’t accept that until i was 16.. keep in mind, i was terrified, just like many others who start to accept that they’re gay. my school experience was not easy, and I had moments—cruel whispers, bullying, rejection. thankfully, my parents were accepting when i came out and i was able to lean on them for support along with my friends. i also found solace in art and creativity.”

pausing for a moment, you looked down at your skincare products, lost in thought.

“but then came moving to munich. it felt like a fresh start. that’s when I met sydney through my mutual friend, klara, who also plays with sydney and oh my goodness, she was captivating! so full of passion and life. she pulled me in with her laughter, and not to be corny or anything– but it felt like the universe conspired for us to find each other. loving her was just so easy; it felt effortless. her loving me felt so easy and loving her felt the same.”

as your vulnerability unfolded, the likes and comments increased.

using a luxurious night cream, you gently applied it to your face while you spoke candidly, reflecting on your marriage.

“syd and i have been married for three years now. we got eloped before having a ceremony a year later.. i’m not even kidding when i say that every day is filled with joy, support, and a deep respect for one another. it makes me so grateful because i thought my life was over when i first started to suspect that i was gay and catching feelings for women. with my wife, sydney inspires me with her dedication. she is so passionate when she is playing football on her club and national team– the way she pours herself into everything she does.”

then came the part that had been weighing on your mind. looking directly into the camera, you took another deep breath.

“I know there are some comments out there that reflect hate, misunderstanding, and a refusal to accept love in its many forms. to those hateful people, I say: disrespectfully, go fuck yourselves.” a smirk graced your lips before you laughed. you are never known for swearing in your videos, usually only swearing with your close peers while in casual conversation.

“love is love, and if you can’t accept that, you have no place to be following me, a gay woman.”

the enthusiasm of your voice resonated with your audience, and you felt the weight lift. you began to share advice for those struggling with their identities.

“if you’re in a situation where you feel alone or scared, know that you’re not. find your community, speak your truth, and hold on to the love you deserve. don’t let anyone dim your light. being true to yourself is beautiful, and no one can take that from you.”

as you finished your skincare routine, the sincerity poured through your last words.

“thank you all for being part of our journey; your support means everything. please continue to uplift love wherever it takes shape, and remember that we are all worthy of love, no matter what form it comes in.” you concluded with a genuine smile, and the warmth you felt radiated through the screen.

the video ended after that and a rush of fulfillment washed over you watching the video—a feeling of peace knowing that you had shared your story authentically and embraced the support from your community.

the comments section overflowed with love, connections ignited among those who shared similar experiences, and others who were just here to celebrate who you and sydney were.

in the days that followed, your bond with your followers deepened. newfound friendships blossomed, and more importantly, the vocal support poured in from every corner of your online community.

the journey continued to blossom as you shared snippets of your life with sydney, including her playful moments with your pets, cooking meals together, or even just sharing lazy afternoons on the couch. you came to look forward to posting every video, each one serving as a vibrant reminder of the love you both cherished, and nothing could ever take away that feeling.

masterlist

#sydney lohmann #sydney lohmann x reader #woso fanfics #woso community #woso x reader #gerwnt #bayern frauen

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caramara3 · 3 months ago

Text

How Could You | Damian Priest

Warnings: it's just sad.

A/N: Sooo... this is actually a rework of an old Seth Rollins one-shot I had made years back, but I decided to revamp it into a Damian Priest one-shot. This has absolutely no tie-in to Just Friends whatsoever.

Word Count: 2.9k

Enjoy!

DING!

The elevator comes to a halt upon the arrival of yet another floor. A robotic, yet feminine voice comes over the loudspeaker:

“EIGHTH FLOOR.”

The metal doors slowly open to reveal a black and gray hallway with artwork of abstract watercolor paintings hanging on the walls. Standing towards the back of the car, leaning against the safety bar, you watch your best friend and maid of honor Sydney step off the elevator. Placing one hand in front of the elevator door so it wouldn’t close she scans the hallway, looking left and then to the right, all to make sure that there was no one around.

After a few minutes, she finally turned her gaze back into the elevator. A small, loving smile softly forms and she extends a hand.

“Coast is clear,” she whispers.

You nod and push off the safety bar, throwing the thick strap of your purse over your shoulder. You grab hold of your carry-on and step off the elevator.

Sydney places a hand on the swell of your back while the other pulls her suitcase. Your gaze falls to the floor as the two of you walk down the hall, focusing on the hotel’s unusual carpet pattern as she scans the placards on the wall looking for the right room. Every so often you could feel her eyes practically burning a hole through before quickly turning away to look back up at the placards.

She was worried. She had every right to be. Since leaving the arena over an hour ago you'd barely spoken a single word. Not to her, not to Rhea, no one. You were catatonic.

But who could blame you? After what you had just seen, anyone would react the exact same way if they were in your shoes.

As you continued down the hall, you could feel the consistent buzzing of your phone through the thin fabric of the hoodie. Slow at first, but quickly becoming more often with every unanswered second passing by.

It almost felt like with every step you took, the phone would go off.

Step.

Buzz.

Step.

Buzz.

Step, step.

Buzz, buzz.

Normally you would have answered by now. But instead, you chose to ignore whoever it was and kept going.

You finally reached the end of the hall and stopped in front of a door marked 827. Sydney pulls out a key card from the pocket of her jeans and slides it into the automated lock. A few buzzing sounds later, a green light flashes and a loud *click* signals the door had unlocked. She turns the handle, pushes the door open, and then moves to the side to usher you into the room, following close behind.

Placing your purse on the dresser, you look around at what would be your new home for the night. For the most part, the room looked like every other hotel room you’ve stayed in while on the road. Granted, this was probably the most luxurious of most of them, but still pretty standard.

There were two Queen beds each donning a fancy purple duvet with no less than eight of the fluffiest pillows you’d have ever seen in your life, a giant flat screen TV mounted above a black dresser, cashmere floor rugs draped across cherry hardwood floors, a cozy little reading area near the windows with a small leather loveseat, and a wet bar fully stocked with overpriced snacks and tiny bottles of alcohol.

The one thing that did make the room stand out was the incredible view. Floor-to-ceiling window panels centered on the main wall of the room leveled with the New York skyline, showcasing a near perfect image of the city. There was even a clear view of the Empire State Building in the background, lit up in red and blue lights as night blanketed the city.

You sit on the edge of the bed, looking out the window. Looking out at the city you couldn’t help to think about how different life was a few hours ago. You were engaged to the love of your life. You were in the final countdown before the big day, less than a week. You were at your rehearsal dinner downtown surrounded by your closest friends and family, all gathered to celebrate your upcoming nuptials.

But all of that seemed so long ago now.

How could this have happened? How could he do that to me?

But before you could think of an answer to your question, the sound of boots clacking across the hardwood floor brought you back to reality.

“Well,” Sydney says with a satisfied sigh, “this is nice. Really nice as a matter of fact, especially with it being super last minute.”

You brought your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms tightly around them, never once looking away from the window. “It’s fine, I guess.”

“Fine?” she snorts, “Y/N, come on! Look at what we got. Gorgeous view, fancy sheets, free Wi-Fi, a fully stocked bar...”

You hear movement from behind and see a light flicker on through the window’s reflection. “Oh my-, Y/N you’ve gotta see this bathroom! It’s got a huge shower and…” she pauses, “Oh. My. God. The floors are heated. Y/N the floors are heated!!”

But you don’t move. You don’t spring up from the bed to revel in her excitement over heated floors or whatever other fancy details the room had to offer. Instead, you stay seated in silence, holding yourself as you gaze out into the city and its nightlife.

You observe the streetlights perched on the sidewalk creating an ominous glow on the pavement. The mixture of city cars and yellow taxis, halted by ongoing traffic as they struggle to reach their destination on time. The small groups of tourists stopping every few minutes for selfies with various buildings in the background, including this very hotel.

All the while your mind replays the events from earlier. A single tear manages to escape as your mind begins to torture you with a play-by-play of what happened. It all still felt like a dream to me, a sick twisted nightmare that no matter how hard I tried I just couldn’t wake up from. Your brain searched and scanned through every single memory collected from the last three years.

You were desperate to find any little detail you missed, something that could explain just where everything went wrong. Something that could’ve prepared you for what would eventually happen.

But you found nothing.

No hints, no little clues.

No hidden messages or blaring warning signs.

Nothing that screamed out: “Y/N don’t be alarmed, but the night before you’re supposed to get married… you’re gonna find your fiancé with some random woman bent over a table.”

Boy that would’ve been a great fucking warning now, wouldn’t it?

You were so lost in thought that you hadn’t felt the bed dip, nor did you flinch when you felt a set of arms pull you into an embrace, resting your head under Sydney’s chin. One hand settled at the swell of your back, tracing small circles with her finger, the other gently stroked your hair. Sydney had been your best friend ever since you were both in diapers, you knew just how much it pained her to see you like this; this deflated catatonic alien that had replaced her bubbly best friend. You knew she probably had a million questions for you, but rather than bombard you, she said nothing and just held you.

Throughout your nearly three decades of friendship, there was never a time in your life where you couldn’t rely on her to be there for you wherever you needed the most. And tonight was definitely one of those moments when you needed her.

The two of you stayed in this comfortable silence for seemed like forever, just staring out into the night as she held you.

“You feel like talking about it?” you hear her ask, her voice just above a whisper.

You say nothing.

“Ok, that’s fine, we don’t have to talk about it yet. We’ve got tomorrow to figure everything out, but tonight,” she pauses, leaping from the bed, “tonight we are getting shit faced.”

Once again you say nothing but watch as she makes her way over to the wet bar. You knew what Sydney was trying to do. First she would pump you with some top shelf liquor, order a bunch of room service, and then put on your favorite horror movies to get you in a relaxed and neutral state while she did damage control.

Unfortunately, Freddy Krueger and tequila weren't going to fix this problem. Not this time.

“Tell you what. Why don’t I call Rhea and see where she and Bianca are with the rest of your things, and then I’ll see if I can wrangle us up some food. How does that sound?”

You think it over for a moment before nodding in agreement.

A smile forms on Sydney’s face. “Awesome. What do you feel like? We could do chinese, pizza, maybe some Thai food? I could see if room service is still available…?”

You look over at her, her hazel eyes meeting yours. “Could we do a little bit of everything?”

A small laugh escapes Sydney’s mouth. “Hell yea we can! I’ll even get some ice cream from that bodega we passed down the street. Why don’t you change out of that dress, take a nice hot shower, and I’ll start getting everything ready.”

You give her a small smile and with one final hug from her she grabs her purse and heads out, leaving you alone. You slide off the bed and walk around the large room. You stop in front of one of the many conveniently placed touch screen panels on the wall. Scanning over it, you find an app called Night and tap it. Instantly, large panels begin descending over the large window panel, slightly darkening the room and hiding the skyline away for the night.

You move about the room making your way inside the en-suite bathroom. Once inside, you shut the door and lock it. Sydney was right, this was an incredible bathroom, like something straight out of Architectural Digest. Apart from the aforementioned heated floors, there were heated marble countertops, eucalyptus scented plush Egyptian cotton towels, two complimentary plush bathrobes with matching slippers, full-sized bottles of luxury brand skincare and body products, & a huge glass walk-in steam shower with two large overhead rainfall showerheads and shower wall panels on the front and side walls.

On the outside of the shower was another touch screen panel to control the shower. You look it over for a few moments, looking over your choices before choosing the one labeled “rainfall.” The overhead showerheads come alive and water begins to rain down, quickly filling the bathroom with steam.

Moving back to the sink you look at the wide selection of skincare products laid out when you felt your phone begin its incessant vibrating once again. But rather than ignore it like before, you pull your phone from your hoodie pocket and stare at the screen.

The first thing you see is your background. It was one of your favorite pictures of the two of you together, Halloween 2022. The two of you had dressed up as Frankenstein and The Bride of Frankenstien. You were looking at the camera but his eyes were focused solely on you, a smile stretched across his face as he did.

You unlock your screen and view the notifications: over a dozen missed calls. Dozens of voicemails. Way too many damn unread text messages.

With a sigh, you begin scrolling through the list of missed calls, seeing one name appear more often than others.

Damian.

Rhea.

Bianca.

Damian.

Kayden.

Finn.

Dominik.

Damian.

Bianca.

Finn.

Damian.

Rhea.

Damian.

The nerve he had to call you, the absolute nerve. What in the hell would make him think you wanted to hear anything that he had to say? Did he think that simple sorry was going to change everything? Or was he calling to explain that what you had seen wasn’t what you thought it was.

You toss your phone onto the counter in annoyance before walking back into the main room, not caring much where it landed. You free yourself of your hoodie, your dress, and the rest of your clothes. You grab two of the plush bath towels underneath the sink, placing one on the back of the toilet and place the other on a hook outside of the shower. You grab one of the bottles of complimentary body wash and open the shower door, the rush of steam engulfing you as you step inside.

You move to stand directly underneath the showerhead, letting the warm cascade over your body. The sound of water splashing against the tiles echoed off the walls but it wasn’t enough to drown out your own thoughts as your mind displayed every kiss, every touch, every ‘I love you’ ever said playing on an endless loop in your mind, attempting to pinpoint the moment where everything changed.

Meeting for the time wrestling on the indies. Meeting again after signing your WWE contract. The night he first asked you out, the night he first said I love you, the night you first made love. Meeting each other’s families.

You try to shake these thoughts from your mind, but it won’t work. No matter what else you attempt to think about, no matter what other happy memories you attempt to form in your head, nothing can keep them at bay. A few stray tears push their way out but you’re quick to wipe them away.

No, you thought. You are not going to do this Y/N. This isn’t happening right now. Stop it!

You reach to grab the bottle of body wash from the shelf inside the shower...

And that’s when you noticed it. The tan line on your finger, now completely visible on your left hand that only a few hours ago bore the beautiful oval cut diamond engagement ring.

The ring that he claimed to have been carrying around for months, hoping to find that right moment that never seemed to come.

Until the night of WrestleMania 37, just hours after you retained your title against Asuka and watched him compete in his first Mania alongside Bad Bunny. The two of you found yourselves back in your shared hotel room, bodies entangled with one another, holding you close against his chest when he would whisper in your ear the two words that would freeze time around you both:

Marry me.

He would reach over to the bedside table next to the bed and pull out a small black box. He would tell you just how much he loved you, how he has always loved you from the moment he met you, how he doesn't wish to spend another day on this earth without you. Then he would slip the dainty ring on your finger and ask you to spend the rest of your life with him.

Now that finger is bare. The ring was gone, given or rather thrown back at him after what had happened.

And just like that, it all came crumbling down. That false sense of reality you created since leaving the arena had finally collided with actual reality and had smacked you dead in the face.

Damian Priest, the love of your life, the man you were set to marry tomorrow, had been cheating on you.

And you had caught him tonight.

Your legs carried you backward until your back hit the wall of the shower. A wave of nausea swirls all around your empty stomach and your chest tightens like someone was stomping on it repeatedly. The first sob was quiet, nothing short of a small childlike whimper as the tears fell. But more and more as reality continued to sink in, they grew louder. The tears flowed more, so much so that I couldn’t tell what were tears and what was from the shower.

Three years of your life, all gone in a flash. Plans for the future, for children, traveling the world… all just illusions and fantasies that would never come true now.

Your body sank to the ground and before you knew it you were curled up into a ball, sobbing into your knees as the water turned from warm to cold.

But you didn’t care. Your head swam with half-formed regrets. Your heart felt as if your blood had turned into tar as it struggled to keep a steady beat.

There was nothing left to feel, nothing left to say, nothing left but the void that now engulfed you in the swirling blackness.

And it was all because of him.

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smithlee1221 · 1 year ago

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Boat Window Screen Replacement | R&T Plastic Fabricators

Australian Boat Window Screen Replacement - Trust R&T Plastic Fabricators. When you need reliable boat window screen replacements in Australia, R&T Plastic Fabricators is your go-to solution. Our marine-grade acrylic products ensure clear and durable protection for your vessel.

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windowanddoorinstallation · 1 year ago

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Louvre Windows in Sydney for Fresh Air and Modern Elegance

While getting a new property constructed or during property renovation, people often ignore the importance of windows in every room. They play a crucial role in the overall functionality of the spaces and the entire property. For example, they help with proper ventilation and ensure that adequate light enters the property. The most prevalent version is the Louvre windows in Sydney, and they come with different features, perks and advantages, and we have discussed some in this write-up.

They Are Attractive and Popular

The main reason why people opt for louvre windows for homes and offices is that they are lovely and popular. They are often used as a decor option in Australian properties, and it is a fact that they can suit different styles of properties very easily.

They Are Known For Better Energy Efficiency

One more reason why louvre windows services are preferred is that they make properties more energy-efficient. Studies tell that they reduce domestic energy consumption significantly and act impressively as a practical alternative to fans and lights in laundry rooms and bathrooms. They can keep the interiors well-ventilated, cool and fresh, and you don't have to use artificial cooling and lighting solutions.

Enjoy Constant Airflow

With louvre windows, homes can be made more airy and fresher, as the design allows more and more cool breeze to enter into the property. This ensures highly effective ventilation, consistent air flow, reduced humidity, and reduced chances of germ growth inside the home.

High-Level Privacy

If you want more privacy, you can go with louvre windows in Sydney. The design shuts down the blades entirely and ensures that outsiders never get to see anything inside your home. The material also provides high-level privacy, as timber, aluminium, or frosted glass can be used for slats.

Enhance the Overall Aesthetic Appeal

These windows also act impressively to enhance the property's overall aesthetic appeal and give a different look to interiors and designs. They are available in various materials, colours and styles, and there is an opportunity to choose the looks that complement the home and increase its resale value.

Easy To Maintain

The efforts related to cleaning these louvre windows in Sydney are next to zero, and this is yet another reason why they are incredibly popular. Every individual slat can be accessed easily to clean from both slides. Also, if damaged, replacing the slats with the new ones is very easy.

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wolverigrl · 4 months ago

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Farewells and Distractions

Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)

Prepare yourselves for some jealousyyyy! And well, I already have ideas for the next part! I'm so obsessed right now, send help.. :')

Warnings: fluff, angst, nothing more!

Enjoy!

Previous Part

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It was early, far too early for me to be awake, but there I was, driving Hugh to the airport. He sat beside me, quiet, his hand resting on my thigh, occasionally squeezing as if to remind himself that I was still there. I glanced over at him, taking in his profile - the way his jawline looked in the dim morning light, the faint tiredness under his eyes. He was heading to Sydney to visit his family for a few weeks, and I’d be joining him the next week. We had planned it so we could have some time apart and then reconnect, just the two of us, after he spent time with his parents and siblings. But as we drove, the reality of that week apart felt heavier than I expected.

“You have everything, right?” I asked, my voice softer than I intended. I already knew the answer. Hugh was meticulous. There was no way he’d forgotten anything.

“Yeah, I’m all set." he replied, his voice equally soft. He glanced out the window for a moment before turning back to me. “I hate leaving you, though.”

I smiled, but it didn’t quite reach my eyes. “It’s just a week. I’ll be there before you know it, and we’ll have all that time together. Just us.”

“I know,” he murmured, leaning over to kiss my temple. “But it still feels too long.”

We pulled into the airport, and the moment I put the car in park, my stomach flipped. I hated goodbyes, even temporary ones. Hugh reached for his bag in the back seat, and then he turned to me, eyes locking with mine in a way that made everything else seem to fade into the background.

“I’m gonna miss you." I whispered, my throat tight with emotion. I didn’t want to cry - God, it was only a week - but I couldn’t help it.

“I’m gonns miss you too, love." he said, and then he pulled me into a kiss. It wasn’t rushed or hurried like I expected. It was slow, almost reluctant, like neither of us wanted it to end. His lips moved against mine with the kind of tenderness that made me want to cling to him and never let go.

When we finally broke apart, he pressed his forehead against mine, and I felt his breath fan over my face. “I love you." he whispered, his voice barely audible.

My heart skipped a beat. I’d known for a while that I was falling in love with him, but those words… I wasn’t ready to say them yet, not because I didn’t feel them, but because it felt like too much, too fast. I smiled instead, pressing another soft kiss to his lips. “I’ll see you soon.”

He nodded, pulling back and grabbing his bag. With one last glance, he headed inside, disappearing into the terminal. I sat there for a moment, staring at the space where he had been, feeling an ache in my chest that I wasn’t sure how to shake off.

The week without Hugh stretched out longer than I anticipated. I had plans with Ryan and Blake - they were supposed to keep me busy while Hugh was gone - but those plans fell through when Blake called me that afternoon.

“Hey, y/n!” Blake’s voice crackled through the phone. “I’m so sorry, but Ryan and I have to cancel for this week. We’re flying out to Canada - his mom needs help."

“Oh no." I said, leaning back against the couch. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, nothing serious. She just needs an extra pair of hands for a bit. We’ll be gone for a while.”

I tried not to let the disappointment creep into my voice. “No worries. Family comes first. We’ll hang out when you get back.”

After hanging up, I tossed my phone on the couch beside me and sighed. So much for that distraction. I glanced at the screen, wondering if Hugh had texted, but the silence between us was understandable - he was busy with family, and with the massive time difference, we hadn’t spoken much.

As if on cue, my phone buzzed. I grabbed it, expecting a message from Hugh, but instead saw Chris’ name.

CHRIS: Hellooo! What are you up to? I'm in Boston for the week. Scott, Carly and Shana are coming over. Wanna join?

I blinked, a little surprised by the spontaneous invitation, but the thought of spending time with Chris and his siblings sounded like the perfect way to take my mind off Hugh being gone. After a moment of hesitation, I decided to go.

Y/N: Might just take you up on that. Hugh's in Sydney and my plans here fell through.

CHRIS: Perfect! Let me know when you’re coming!

Hugh was busy, and it wasn’t like I was going to spend the week moping around. Plus, I would also meet my other friends, who I haven't seen for a while!

The days in Boston were great. Chris and his siblings were as always easy company, and I found myself laughing more than I had in days. We spent our time wandering through the city, grabbing food at hole-in-the-wall places, and drinking in tiny bars that didn’t care if we lingered for hours. I wasn’t constantly texting Hugh, mostly because the time difference made it hard to sync up, but we exchanged messages when we could even if it was mostly just short messages or a quick selfie.

Y/N: With friends in Boston. One day left! Miss you❤️

HUGH: Hope you have a great time. Miss you too. Can’t wait for you to get here❤️

One night, Chris’s brother snapped a candid photo of us all laughing at some stupid joke Chris had made and posted it on Instagram. I didn’t think much of it at the time - just a fun moment with friends.

After I reposted Scott's photo, I somehow got a weird feeling, because Hugh neither liked nor commented on it. He usually does that with all my posts.

But then my phone buzzed. It was a call from him. I frowned, glancing at the time. It was the middle of the night in Sydney.

“Hey!" I answered, stepping out onto the balcony to get some quiet. “Isn't it late in Sydney? What’s up? Are you okay?”

There was a pause on the other end, and I could hear the hesitation in his voice. “Yeah and yeah I’m fine. Just couldn’t sleep.”

I smiled, leaning against the railing. “What’s keeping you up? Family stuff?”

“Yeah, a little. I miss you." he said, his voice soft, but I could sense something else there too. Something unspoken.

“I miss you too. I’ll be there soon. My flight's tomorrow at noon.” I reassured him, but the nagging feeling that something was wrong wouldn’t go away.

There was another pause before Hugh spoke again. “Yeah okay. Just text me when you're at the airport. What have you been up to?”

“Just hanging out with some friends." I said, hoping to keep things light. “Boston’s been nice. It’s a good distraction.”

“I’m glad." he replied, though his tone didn’t sound completely convinced. I wanted to press, to ask him what was really going on, but something held me back. Maybe it was the distance, or maybe I just didn’t want to have a serious conversation at 3 AM Sydney time.

We talked for a little while longer, mostly about what he’d been doing with his family - going to the beach, having long dinners with his parents. It sounded peaceful, and I couldn’t wait to be there with him. By the time we hung up, I thought things were okay between us.

When I finally arrived in Sydney, I was ready to be wrapped up in my boyfriends arms, to forget about the distance and just be with him. But something was off the moment I saw him at the airport. He hugged me, kissed me, but there was a hesitation in his touch, a distance in his eyes that I hadn’t expected.

“Everything okay?” I asked as we got into the car.

“Yeah, just tired.” he said, brushing it off, but I could tell something was wrong and I didn’t push. Maybe he was still caught up in family obligations.

Over the next couple of days, that distance grew. He wasn’t as affectionate as usual, and when I tried to kiss him or initiate anything more intimate, he pulled back, offering a soft smile but nothing else. It was confusing, and frankly, it hurt.

It all came to a head one evening when we were sitting in his living room, and I could feel the tension crackling in the air between us.

“Hugh." I said cautiously as I looked at his profile. Iis something wrong? You’ve been distant since I got here."

He looked at me, his jaw tightening as if he was wrestling with something he didn’t want to say. “Why didn’t you tell me you were spending all that time with Chris?”

I blinked, caught off guard. “What? I told you I was with friends in Boston.”

“You didn’t tell me Chris was one of them." he said, standing up, pacing now. His hands were in his pockets, but I could see the frustration in the way his shoulders tensed. “I saw your Instagram photo, y/n. You and Chris.. you looked really comfortable.”

I stood up too, feeling my heart race with a mix of confusion and frustration. “I didn’t think it mattered. It wasn’t just me and Chris - his siblings were there too. We’re friends, Hugh. That’s all.”

“I know you’re friends, but that’s not the point!" Hugh interrupted, his voice rising slightly. He turned to face me fully, his eyes searching mine as if trying to find something he couldn’t quite name. "You didn’t tell me. Why didn’t you just tell me it was him?"

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "Because it wasn’t important, Hugh! We were in a group, it wasn’t just the two of us, and I didn’t think it would bother you. Chris and I are over. We’ve been over for years."

Hugh’s face tightened, and he took a deep breath, clearly trying to keep his composure. "But you two were something once. And now you’re still close, still spending time together, laughing together. I trust you, y/n, but… it’s hard for me to ignore the fact that you didn’t think it was worth mentioning."

I stared at him, feeling my own frustration bubbling to the surface. "Are you seriously mad because I didn’t explicitly say Chris was there? You know we’re friends. I didn’t hide it. I didn’t lie to you."

"It’s not just about Chris," Hugh snapped, finally letting the words spill out. "It’s about everything. You didn't even say anything back to me at the airport! I couldn’t help but felt like you didn’t really want this and went to see him. Maybe I’m too old for this, for you. And when I see you with someone like Chris, who’s younger, who shares your world more than I do… I just start to wonder."

His words hit me like a punch in the gut. I hadn’t realized he’d been carrying all this around with him, this insecurity about us, about our relationship. "Hugh, how could you even think that? We talked about the age difference and you were the one who literally said, that it's fine! It doesn’t even matter to me, and it’s never been about that. I didn’t realize you felt this way… you should have told me."

"I didn’t want to burden you with it. Especially after you were concerned about our relationship and the media." he muttered, turning away, his shoulders slumping slightly. "It’s my issue, not yours."

"No, it is our issue if it’s affecting us like this." I said, stepping closer to him. "You should have told me you were feeling like this, Hugh. I don’t want you to feel insecure about us, or about me spending time with anyone. I love being with you and I want to be with you."

He ran a hand through his hair, still not meeting my eyes. "It’s hard. I see how easy it is for you and Chris to be around each other after you have been together and I thought… maybe I’m holding you back and the thought intensified after you didn't say 'I love you' back."

I felt my chest tighten, a knot of frustration and sadness coiling inside me. "Hugh, that’s not true. You’re not holding me back. I’m with you because I choose to be. Chris is a friend, but you’re the one I want to be with. You’re the one I’m in love with. Also you caught me off guard with that and it was somehow too much for me to tell you before we said goodbye."

At that, Hugh’s eyes finally lifted to meet mine. For a moment, his expression softened, but the weight of everything still hung between us. "I don’t want to feel this way, y/n. I don’t want to doubt us."

"Then don’t." I said, stepping closer, placing my hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart under my palm. "You don’t have to doubt anything. I’m here with you because I want to be, not because I feel like I have to. I love you, Hugh. I love you in ways I didn’t think I could. And I need you to believe that."

He swallowed hard, and for a moment, I thought he might cry, or that I might cry, but instead, he pulled me into his arms. He held me tight, his chin resting on top of my head as he whispered, "I’m sorry. I’m sorry for letting this get to me."

I hugged him back, feeling the tension slowly ease out of him as we stood there, wrapped up in each other. "I’m sorry I didn’t think to tell you about Chris." I murmured against his chest. "I didn’t mean to make you feel like you couldn’t trust me."

Hugh kissed the top of my head, his arms tightening around me. "I do trust you. I just… I get scared sometimes too. It's my first relationship after a long marriage. It's new to me too."

"I know." I whispered. "We’ll figure it out together."

After a few minutes, I pulled away gently, looking up at him. "Do you want to talk more about it, or…?"

He shook his head, smiling softly. "No. I think we’ve talked enough for tonight." Then, his expression shifted, something playful creeping into his eyes. "How about we make some dinner? I know we’ve got some things we could whip up."

I smiled, grateful for the change in tone. "That sounds good. Let’s go cook."

Standing in Hugh's kitchen, I stirred the vegetables as the aroma of garlic and fresh herbs filled the air. Hugh was chopping some tomatoes next to me, the sound of his knife tapping against the cutting board rhythmic and soothing. We'd been talking for a while about upcoming projects - the usual couple interviews and some new film roles hat were coming our way.

He glanced at me with that familiar twinkle in his eyes. "You know, they've asked for some couple interview next month. Think we can manage to look civilized for one hour?" His lips curled into a teasing smile.

I raised an eyebrow, stirring the sauce as I shot him a look. “Do we really have to talk about that now? I thought this was our quiet time.”

Hugh chuckled and set his glass down, pushing away from the counter to move closer to me. “It is, but you know they’re going to ask us sooner or later. They’re all dying for a chance to talk to us - Hollywood’s favorite couple.”

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, sure. You might be used to the spotlight, but I’m still getting used to it. Besides, I think they’re more interested in you than me.”

He slid up behind me, his arms snaking around my waist as he rested his chin on my head. “Oh, they’re definitely interested in you, trust me. And I think we make a pretty good team. You’re a natural on camera.”

I laughed softly, shaking my head. “That’s because you’re always cracking jokes and making me laugh. You're the one who always makes some smartass comment that gets us off track, but I don’t think I could get through an interview without you by my side.”

Hugh kissed my temple softly, his lips brushing against my skin. “Exactly. That’s why we should say yes to a couple of these. It’ll be fun. We can give them a little peek into our life.”

I sighed, stirring the sauce as I leaned back into him. “Alright, alright. I’ll consider it. But only if you promise to keep it light. No deep-dive, personal stuff.”

He raised an eyebrow, his breath warm against my ear. “No promises. They always find a way to ask the hard questions.”

I turned to face him, my hands sliding up to rest on his chest as I narrowed my eyes. “Then you’re answering those.”

He laughed, leaning down to press a quick kiss to my lips. “Deal. I’ll take the tough ones.”

As I turned back to the stove, Hugh kept his arms around me, his body pressed close to mine as he spoke. “You know, I’ve been getting some new film offers too. There’s one that might shoot in New Zealand next year.”

I felt a twinge of excitement at the mention of New Zealand. “Really? That sounds amazing. Have you decided if you’re going to do it?”

He shrugged, his hands absentmindedly playing with the hem of my shirt as he spoke. “I’m still thinking about it. I want to make sure it won’t take up too much time. I’d rather spend more of it with you.” His voice dropped, soft and intimate, and I couldn’t help but smile at how effortlessly he shifted from teasing to sincere.

I turned to face him again, this time resting my hands on his arms. “You’re really not going to stop making me blush, are you?”

He grinned, leaning down to kiss me again, this time slower, lingering. “Not a chance.”

We stood there, the conversation fading as our lips met again and again, the kitchen suddenly feeling much smaller as the heat between us built. It wasn’t long before the playful kisses turned into something deeper, more urgent, and I found myself wrapped in his arms, pressed up against the counter, his hands sliding up my back as he kissed me like he couldn’t get enough.

Just as I was getting completely lost in the moment, Hugh pulled back, his breathing heavy as he gazed down at me. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you." he said, his voice a little more serious now.

I blinked, trying to focus through the haze of desire. “What is it?”

He hesitated for a moment, his thumb brushing over my cheek as he spoke. “The kids… they’ve been asking about you. They want to meet you.”

I froze, my heart skipping a beat. His kids. I knew this moment would come eventually, but the thought of meeting them, of stepping into that part of his life, made my stomach twist with nerves.

“Oh.." I said softly, my voice betraying my uncertainty. “I didn’t know they’d been asking about me.”

He nodded, his expression gentle but serious. “Yeah. I called them yesterday and they’ve been curious for a while now, but I didn’t want to bring it up until I felt like we were both ready.”

I swallowed, the weight of his words sinking in. “And… you think we’re ready?”

He held my gaze, his hand moving to cup the back of my neck. “I do. But it’s up to you. If you’re not ready, we can wait. There’s no rush.”

I took a deep breath, my mind racing. Meeting his kids was a big step, and the last thing I wanted to do was mess it up. But at the same time, I couldn’t help but feel like it was the natural next step. Hugh was such an important part of my life now, and if his kids wanted to get to know me, maybe it was time.

“I think I’m ready." I said, my voice steadying as I spoke. “I’d love to meet them.”

The relief on Hugh’s face was instant, and he pulled me into a tight hug, his lips pressing against my hair. “You have no idea how happy that makes me." he murmured, his voice filled with emotion.

I smiled against his chest, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness. “I just hope they like me.”

Hugh pulled back, his hands framing my face as he looked down at me with absolute certainty. “They’re going to love you. Just like I do.”

I bit my lip, my heart swelling at his words. “I love you too." I whispered, feeling the weight of those words settle between us.

Hugh smiled, his eyes soft as he leaned down to kiss me again, this time slower, more deliberate. “I know.”

We stood there for a few moments, wrapped in each other, the conversation lingering in the air. But as the sauce on the stove began to bubble, Hugh pulled back with a playful grin. “Alright, we better finish this before we burn the house down.”

I laughed, shaking my head as I turned back to the stove. “You’re the distraction, not me.”

Hugh stepped up behind me again, his arms wrapping around my waist as he rested his chin on my shoulder. “You know..” he murmured, his voice dropping to that low, teasing tone that always drove me crazy. “You could be right. But I think you like it and that we may need small breaks in between cooking."

I tried to focus on stirring the sauce, but it was impossible with him pressed up against me like that, his hands sliding up under my shirt, his touch warm against my skin. “Hugh.." I breathed, already feeling my resolve weakening.

“Hmm?” he hummed, his lips brushing against the side of my neck. “You were saying?”

I let out a soft moan, leaning back into him as his hands tightened around my waist, pulling me closer. “You’re impossible." I managed to say, though my voice came out shaky.

“Impossible?” he echoed, his mouth moving down my neck, sending shivers through my entire body. “I think you like me just the way I am.”

I laughed breathlessly, trying to keep the sauce from burning as he continued to kiss my neck, his hands exploring every inch of me. “The sauce is going to- ” I started, but before I could finish, the sound of bubbling and sizzling filled the air, and I realized that it was already too late.

“Shit!” I exclaimed, quickly turning off the stove as Hugh stepped back with a satisfied grin on his face.

He laughed, leaning against the counter as I tried to salvage what I could of dinner. “I told you we needed a break.”

I shot him a look over my shoulder, but I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips. “This is your fault.”

He shrugged, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Maybe. But I think you enjoyed it.”

I rolled my eyes, turning back to the stove. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Damn right, I am,” he said with a wink, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

Even when everything else was up in the air - work, interviews, meeting his kids - knew that as long as we had moments like this, we’d be just fine.

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

@spectorrrhgf @tinawantstobeadoll @appetencyfortacos @weskerussy @kellyxo1 @larkkyoris @shukirschtein14 @corvusmorte @carefree-flowerchild @rexmeshlasblog @melmel-fandom @needz1nk @nonamevenus @morganlolitta @angelofthorr @pickuptruck01 @inlovewithcharmers @gaulty74

Next Part

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theonewiththefanfics · 1 year ago

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Robbery of a Heart (one-shot)

Synopsis: Robberies are never fun to deal with. Unless it's a certain chef that steals your heart. That is something that can be gotten behind. Real robberies - not so much.

Pairing: Carmen (Carmy; Bear) Berzatto x fem!Reader

Genre: primarily fluff, maybe a bit of angst

Warnings: robbery, mentions of blood, stitches, wounds, swearing, mentions of suicide, minimally edited

Word count: 4041

Calling in just a couple of hours before the opening shift where Y/N should be on her way to help out, was the last thing she wanted to do. In fact, all she wanted was to make her coffee and have her usual bagel with cream cheese, tomatoes and basil before heading out the door and getting to The Bear. Instead, she was stuck in her apartment, with medics and police officers, as well as some concerned neighbours all around.

Y/N huffed, her leg bouncing up and down as the paramedic finally snipped the ends of the bandages and told her to take it easy for the next few days and to go to the hospital in a week’s time.

The clock glared at her from her peripheral, counting down the minutes to when her alarm would blare.

Fuck! Why the fuck did this have to happen on a night when she had a shift the next morning!?

She dragged a hand down her face when the cops and the medics finally left.

Mrs Hanover from the third floor gave her a tight smile. “You’ll be okay, sweetie?”

“I’ll be alright.” Y/N gave her an appreciative hug. “Thanks. Just – just gonna get some more rest.”

“You do that,” the older woman patted her cheek. With one more backwards glance and a reassuring wave from Y/N, her apartment was vacated.

Instantly, she latched the new locks, put the chain on and placed a chair underneath the door handle. No more surprises, not after that night.

Plopping herself down on the couch, Y/N craned her neck back and stared at the ceiling. It was still dark outside, as it usually was when she returned home and more often than not nowadays, when she left for work.

She’d just close her eyes for a moment. Just a moment.

But the exhaustion and withdrawal from the adrenaline hit her like a brick, and, before Y/N knew it, she was out completely, even with the big living room lights still on. An hour and a half later though, she was startled by the tone of her alarm ringing from her room.

The panic from the sound was much like when she’d first heard the broken lamp smash to the ground earlier in the night. Y/N’s heart instantly picked up, a hot and cold wave rushing through her veins as she snapped her head from one side to the other, but when she noted the door was closed, the chair still tightly underneath it, checked the closed windows and surveyed her closet and bathroom for anyone who might be hiding inside, Y/N finally found her phone on the floor between the duvet and the cover, turning the alarm off.

Usually, it would take her an hour to get ready, but she knew that it would be impossible for her to concentrate that day. Opening the screen, she went to her caller list and looked at the top number. One she’d called just that evening when entering her apartment before the big shitshow had gone down.

Y/N stared down at her phone, the name “Carmy :)” staring right back at her for like twenty minutes before she abandoned the idea of contacting him. Maybe Sydney? But Syd would also flip her shit if she told what had happened. In the end, she settled on Richie. They had a sort of camaraderie going on, but he was the kind of person she knew would take Carmy’s well-being over hers. They butted heads, swore and almost beat up each other, but Y/N knew, Richie loved his cousin.

She let out a shaky breath as the tone beeped, and then finally, after an agonizing wait, she heard his gruff voice pick up with a “the fuck you want?”

“Hi Richie,” Y/N stuttered. “I - umm - I need to take today off.”

“Seriously, Y/N?” he scoffed. “Do you know what time it is?"

Her breathing was stuttered. “I just – I – shit!” she dragged a hand down her face. “Richie please, just do me a solid, okay? Just tell Carmy I’m sick, and I need today off.”

“Well, you don’t sound fucking sick, so might telling me why you actually need today off?”

Y/N worried her lip before saying, “You have to promise me you won’t tell Carmen this.”

For a moment, it got very quiet on Richie’s end. She heard some shuffling and then a door thudded closed. He was probably in the freezer.

“Why don’t you want me telling cousin why you’re not coming in?”

“Richie-“

“No,” he interrupted her. “You either tell me, or I’m coming over to yours.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, fine!” she huffed. “I - uh. I sort of got robbed last night, well, this morning, I guess.”

“You got what?!”

“Richie!” she heard Carmy bellow from the other side of the phone even through the closed freezer door while she shushed the man.

“Please just don’t tell Carmen,” Y/N rushed out. “He’ll just worry himself sick, okay? I just need today off, and I’ll be back on track tomorrow.”

“No,” Richie argued. “He has to know!”

“Please don’t! This is the last thing he needs, besides I’m alright, okay? The cops were here, the locksmith already changed the locks and added a chain as well. Just,” she let out a long sigh. “Just please have my back here. I’ll owe you one.”

“Fuck!” Richie kicked at something, and a bucket or whatever crashed in the background. “Fine. Fine! But are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine,” Y/N said. “Just a bit shaken up. As I said – the locks have already been changed, so I’m good.”

There was indistinct grumbling from his side before Richie conceded. “If you say so.”

“I do.” Y/N released a big breath. “Again – I’m sorry. But I’ll be back on track tomorrow.”

“Just – just take care of yourself, kid. I – shit! Okay… I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See ya, Richie,” and with that, the call disconnected.

But she wasn’t good. Not really. What she hadn't told Richie and why she’d begged him not to say anything to Carmen, was that during that robbery, she’d gotten injured.

The robber hadn’t thought she’d been home, that anyone was home, and usually, that was true, with Y/N staying way past closing time at The Bear, but Carmen had insisted she go home earlier and get a proper night's rest for once.

They’d had a scuffle, and the man had grabbed one of Y/N’s knives, swinging at her, cutting a large gash right on her forearm. Luckily, that had been the extent of her injuries apart from when he’d pushed her into the table while running away. But she knew, if Carmy saw the stitches, the bandages, he’d flip his shit.

Y/N sat back down on the couch.

What a fucking night that had been.

She barely had any energy to do the basic things like eat and drink water, and her arm had started to massively hurt, so cleaning up the mess left behind by the robber was a complete bitch. By the time noon came, and her stomach grumbled for some food, she could only pop in some toast and put some slices of cheese on top, not even bothering to grill it.

There was a flat bottle of Coke in the fridge, filling the glass only halfway, but Y/N didn’t have the strength for anything else. She just wanted to sleep and forget about what had happened, about the terror coursing through her veins when the man had tried to charge at her, whether to simply restrain her or… or something worse. About how had it not been for the cat living in the flat above which had gotten in through her open living room window from the fire escape and jumped and scratched at the intruder, Y/N would have never gotten the chance to make a run for it.

She’d been by the door when the unmistakable sound of the drawer being pulled open made her throw one glance behind her shoulder.

Usually, Y/N liked the gleams of her knives. She kept them polished, and sharp so that every cut, and slice, and stroke was perfect. But now, all she saw was a murder weapon. One that would end her life.

He charged at her again, and she’d ducked down, right arm raised in defence as the robber slashed. Then her neighbours broke down the door. The ones from two floors down while the robber pushed her into the side of a table, an edge hitting her gut hard enough to leave her in a breathless heap on the floor.

While she lay on the ground, coddling her wounds, Mrs Hanover, the one who’d heard the ruckus happening above her own living room, had rushed to get the burly couple for help, and stroked her back as they dealt with the intruder.

The two men restrained the robber. One of them was a personal trainer, the other a bodybuilder (it’s how they’d actually met and fell in love with one another), and sometimes Y/N would help them build meal plans and actually make them taste out new recipes. She’d never been gladder to have taken that one invite when she’d first moved in for a Friday wine night.

Mrs Hanover had called the cops and the medics, but no one left until the robber had been handcuffed and the paramedics had checked Y/N over. Then, it was back to their own beds.

Except the fear remained.

And the sudden knocks at the door in that moment, didn’t help either.

Her daydreaming had basically taken away her whole day, as she glanced at the window, and the sun was setting over Chicago.

With a groan and a pained hiss, Y/N got up from the couch.

It was probably the guys, coming to check on her.

But when she removed the chair and unlocked the door, the chain still on, she reminded herself to look through the peephole.

It wasn’t the guys from 2B. It was the last guy she wanted to see that day.

Carmy lifted his free hand, the other holding a takeout bag, and knocked again.

Y/N stood still behind the door, not even daring to breathe too loudly.

He shuffled around a bit, an unsure gaze thrown at the entrance.

“Leave,” she begged. “Please go, Carmy.”

Y/N didn’t have the energy, she didn’t want to tell him what’d happened. She hoped Richie hadn’t spilled the beans, but whatever he’d told Carmen, hadn’t been enough to stop him from worrying.

He raised his hand again and rapped it against the door. “Y/N?” this time he called out. “Richie told me you’re sick. Something about pneumonia or a lung infection?”

Of fucking course! Y/N cursed Carmen’s cousin. Pneumonia! Couldn’t he have told him she had a cold? Of course, pneumonia would send him running to hers. She thanked her lucky stars she’d changed into something with long sleeves to cover the bandages at least.

Y/N waited for a few more seconds before removing the chain and opening the door.

Carmy’s face pretty much lit up, a soft smile blooming on his lips as he looked at her.

“Hey, Y/N. You alright?”

“Hey, Bear.” She smiled back at him and nodded. “Yeah, I’m good. Richie is a fucking drama queen. I have the sniffles, not fucking pneumonia. You didn’t have to come running.”

Carmen simply shrugged. “Well, Richie seemed pretty worried. And I brought some food.” He raised the paper bag where a delicious scent wafted from, and not only did Y/N’s nose agree, but so did her stomach, eliciting a loud rumble. Carmy smiled upon hearing that. “Thought you might not have the energy to cook.”

Oh, he had no idea.

She sighed and rubbed at her neck, giving him a tight-lipped grimace, she hoped passed for a smile. “Thanks, Bear.”

As Carmy lifted the bag for her to take he paused, not letting go even when Y/N had grabbed the handle.

“I do have a question though – why did you unlock the door, but not let me in?”

Busted. So fucking busted.

“Umm,” she stammered while Carmen started to take steps closer to her, Y/N retreating inside her apartment as he followed. He closed the door with a small thud.

“In fact,” he placed the bag on the floor, crossing his arms. “I think what Richie and, in turn what you said to him, is complete and utter bullshit. You’re not sick. But something is very wrong.”

“No,” Y/N shook her head automatically. “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just as I said – Richie is too dramatic for his own good.”

Carmen let out a sarcastic chuckle. “Look, I don’t know what kind of an idiot you take me for, but I know you. And I can see in your face, that something is amiss, so just please,” now his voice was pleading, eyes begging. “Please tell me what is going on with you? I was worried sick today, thinking that maybe you needed to go to the hospital, but no one was there for you. So, please, Y/N…”

And the way he said her name, so full of desperation, of care, she almost caved, but no. She couldn’t possibly put that sort of stress on him.

“I’m okay,” she whispered.

“No, you’re not, I can see it in your face. Please, Y/N,” and then he made a mistake.

He grabbed at her forearm, and before she could move it away from his touch, his roughened palm had wrapped around the wound. The squeeze was meant to be comforting, but in that moment, it was anything but.

Y/N whimpered in pain, and the second the sound came out of her mouth, Carmy took a horrified step back. And just her luck as well – she’d started bleeding through the bandages and the sweatshirt, which he obviously noticed.

“What the fuck happened?”

“Nothing,” she shook her head. “I cut myself really bad, that’s all.”

“Bullshit,” his words were snappy. “You don’t cut yourself like that unless you’re running around and tripping with a knife or deliberately do such a thing.” Something flashed in his eyes, and Y/N didn’t like that look one bit. “Or unless someone else cut you.”

She scoffed, taking a step back and casting her eyes to the ground. “It was an accident, okay? Needed to get some stitches, which is why I asked Richie to tell you I’d be out today. I didn’t know how long it would take in the ER.”

Carmy’s steps came closer, as he tried to take her palm, but Y/N wrapped her uncut arm around the bicep of her other one, turning her head to the side so as to not look at him.

“Hey, don’t do that.” Carmen’s voice was soft. “Please don’t do that, okay? I’m worried. What happened?”

“I told you, -,”

“No, you didn’t,” he insisted. “You lied to me, and I’d like to know why. I’d also like to know why you made Richie lie -”

“I got robbed, okay!?” the words exploded out of her mouth before she could push them behind her teeth.

That made him take a physical step back, eyes instantly shooting around to survey her apartment. She was a messy person as is, but there, by the corner where the fridge was, was the chair she’d rested against the door, and still on the ground pieces of broken glass shone when looking at it from an angle, and oh god, she’d forgotten to clean up all the blood, some of the droplets having dried down to a russet tone, like a dalmatian’s spots on the white tiles.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he seemed genuinely hurt when he finally spoke up. “Did you, what? Think I’d make you come in?”

“Of course not! I didn’t want this reaction though! I didn’t want you to worry!”

“Of course, I’m gonna worry! God, even if you have a stupid fucking cold I’m gonna worry!”

“Well, don’t! I’m fine!”

“You were injured!”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “I get cut at work all the time.”

“No, you got cut by someone who intended to do you harm. What if it was worse?” Carmen’s breath got stuck in his chest. “What if he’d hurt you worse? I – I can’t –,”

“But he didn’t okay?” Y/N softened her tone, seeing a wave of panic rush over Carmy. “He didn’t, alright. Yes, I have a few stitches now, and will probably have a long scar, and it hurts like an absolute bitch, but he didn’t hurt me any worse than that.”

“Yes, but what if he had?” Carmy took her by the shoulders. “What if you had ended up with your head hurt? What if he’d stabbed you? What if,” he choked on his words, silver slowly lining the bottom of his eyes. “What if you ended up dead?”

That made Y/N shut up completely, her lips pressed hard in a thin line.

She knew about Michael. Of course, she did. She knew, he’d left Carmy The Beef after he’d committed suicide, and how many internal scars Carmen had because of it. Knowing she’d now added to that pain, made Y/N physically ill.

“Do – do you not trust me like that?” His thumbs gently brushed her biceps. “Just – I don’t –,” he took a moment and collected himself. “I don’t understand why you wouldn’t tell me you went through something like that…”

“Carmy, no!” She pulled him into a hug and felt his hands wrap tightly around her waist, anchoring himself to her, making sure she was safe and sound and alive. “I trust you, of course I do! It’s just… you already do so much for me… you already take care of me, like fucking now, bringing me food and shit. I don’t need you to worry for me like that any more than you already do.”

“And what if I want to worry about you?” he muttered the question into the skin of her neck, grip only tightening. “What if I want to spend my days thinking about if you’ve eaten, or how well you slept? If you’re doing okay or maybe need a break? What if I,” he pulled back, taking a deep breath. “What if I want to take care of you when you’re sick… or hurt? What if I want to try and make it better for you?”

He pressed his forehead to Y/N’s, and she could see it in his eyes when he looked at her from the bottom of his lashes – that fear and hesitation, that anxiety of being rejected or laughed at.

Y/N glanced down at his lips, brushing a thumb along the bottom one. “You uh – you want to worry like that about everyone? Or just… me in particular?”

She felt him release a stuttered breath before he whispered, “There is no one else but you.”

Now Y/N was the one whose breath hitched, especially as their eyes met, cerulean pools boring into her Y/E/C ones.

Her heart thudded hard against her ribs, and she was sure Carmy could feel its erratic rhythm where his chest was pressed tightly to hers. A soothing hand ran down her back and settled on the small of her waist.

And then she regretted it. All of it. For being so stupid and thinking she’d be burdening him with that information, for trying to reject his help, his care, because who the hell was she kidding – that moment when Y/N’d felt the knife split her skin open, the first person she’d thought of calling, the first person she knew would come running for her was Carmy.

Not the police, not the ambulance – but her sweet Bear.

His hand slipped up along her waist, brushing against her stomach and the side of her breast before settling and cupping her cheek, Carmy tilting her head so she looked at him.

It took the man a while to gather the courage to say the words, and he was full of nerves as he did so, Y/N had no doubts about that, but she pretty much thought she died when he said, “Can I kiss you?”

Tears welled in her eyes, and all she could do was whisper a small, “Please,” before she was leaning in. Thankfully, he didn’t hesitate to respond, and they sunk into one another as their lips finally met.

Carmy was very mindful of Y/N’s injured arm, as he wrapped a hand around her waist and neck, holding her close to him, but not touching the wounded limb, while she put her hand against his chest, right in the centre, relishing the feeling of his heart thudding against it, loving the rhythm it beat in, as it sped up when she answered to his tongue’s question and she opened her mouth inviting it in. It was like her own tried to match the rhythm.

The kiss was searing, and filled with passion, months of pent-up pining finally put to rest from both ends, but also soothing. It was like coming home and being wrapped in a soft and warm blanket. Coming to her safe home. Finally.

After what felt like ages, they pulled back, but not completely, Y/N having pretty much a death grip on Carmy’s shirt, and she didn’t know if she had the strength not to rip it off his chest, while his own hands had moved to cup her jaw, not letting her run away from the all-consuming kisses they’d shared.

She could feel he was hard, the prominent bulge in his jeans brushing against her thigh as they’d kissed, and Y/N couldn’t lie and say her own underwear hadn’t soaked the moment Carmy had moaned into her mouth, but she knew she wasn’t up for that. Not yet. And so did he, as his eyes jotted to the scarlet patch on the arm of the sweatshirt.

“Come,” he was breathing heavily, but a worried look had appeared on his face. “I’m gonna change your bandages, and then you’re gonna eat while I vacuum up the glass on the floor.”

“Carmy you don’t have to do that…”

His responding smile was soft. “And you said I could take care of you. So let me.”

On instinct, she wanted to argue but bit down on her lip. Maybe she deserved to be taken care of.

With expert skill, Carmy redressed the wound, placing the blood-soaked shirt in her dirty hamper while helping her get a new clean one on, and then the two settled on the same couch Y/N had spent her day, but not before, as he promised, he cleaned up the remaining glass, she hadn’t had the energy to.

Resting her forehead against Carmy’s chest as he ran a hand up and down her back was the most soothing notion Y/N knew. They stayed on the sofa like that for a while, no TV on in the background, no nothing, just the two of them, soaking up one another’s touch until a thought entered Y/N’s mind.

She snorted.

Carmen pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s stupid.”

“Well, will you tell me anyway?” she could hear the smile in his voice.

“I just,” Y/N huffed, twisting her head so she could look up at him. “I realized, you’re a better robber than whoever the fuck broke into my apartment.”

A furrow appeared between his brows, his gentle fingers brushing against her cheeks. “What do you mean?”

“I mean he didn’t even get to steal anything, and yet I let you in ,and you’ve already taken something. Or maybe I even gave it to you.”

“And what’s that?”

“My heart.”

And though it was terribly cheesy, Carmen didn’t dare laugh, not as a beautiful smile bloomed on his face, eyes filled with love. “I’ll keep it safe. If you let me, that is.”

“I trust you.”

“Thank you.” And the kiss he gave her was a seal of promise Y/N could feel in her very bones. She knew, though no longer hers, her heart would be safe with him. He wouldn’t break it.

And maybe she could allow this one robbery, as long as he took care of her like that.

Tags (crossed out wouldn't take):

Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @m-a-t-91 @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @lestersglitterglue @im-squished @strangersstrange

A/N: Please someone get me a Carmy :(

P.S. Carmen tags are open :)

P.S.S what did you think?

P.S.S.S. please don't repost or translate on other platforms!

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