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heavenbarnes · 4 months

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Run the pass

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x GN!Reader x Sydney Adamu

Warnings/Contains: reader is gender-neutral (no pronouns or descriptions of their genitals), swearing, allusions to alcohol, brief and non-descriptive mentions of vomiting, Claire exists, reader doesn't necessarily treat Syd the way she deserves, penetrative sex (with no mentions of protection), oral sex (reader and Syd receiving), coming inside, dirty talk.

Word Count: 7k

I have had this idea in my head for an AGE and I'm so glad I finally get to write it. In my head, the threesome didn't happen but I think it was a lovely addition. God, I just need these two like water.

This kitchen sounds like home.

Sure, there's a whirring noise coming from the walk in chiller. Sure, Richie is going waxing-lyrical at Fak over the score of some ball game. Sure, the grill spits like a dragon at the gates of doom.

But this kitchen sounds like home.

It's full of flavour, and friends, and- well, Carmy's in it.

You can only see the back of him, the white t-shirt stretched across his shoulders. You can see the backs of his arms moving as he plates the next meal. But it makes you smile, just inwardly, as you fold the mixture in the steel bowl in front of you.

When you look up again, Sydney's beside him. She's pushing another plate towards him and they're shoulder to shoulder. They work so perfectly in-sync that your smile widens.

Tina catches it, nudging you with her hip as she walks past you. "Wish somebody would look at me like that."

You just shake your head, putting it down to focus on your food in front of you as you keep working. By the time you pick your head back up, you see that Carmy's looking back at you over his shoulder.

Looking into Carmy's eyes is like staring into the sun, all consuming and a little blinding. If it'd been any different, you would've seen Sydney watching you over his other shoulder.

Carmy is a good boss, he's firm but fair. Firm but fair.

Working in his kitchen is one of the best gigs that ever fell in your lap. He wasn't even the one to hire you, go figure.

His brother, Michael, he hired you. You'd come in to put your name in the running for the kitchen-hand position they were advertising for. He saw something different.

That's how you ended up working the register.

Not exactly what you had in mind when you'd applied at the restaurant but, money is money and it was nearly impossible to find a job in this city. Also, Michael had told you that once folks walked past and saw you in the front window? Customers would come running.

You figured it wasn't worth the argument, and who knows? Maybe you could've impressed him enough to make your way into the kitchen.

Then things went and changed on you, Michael up and made his big decision and here you were on the register with his younger brother running the kitchen you so badly wanted to break into.

Carmy needed to find his feet in this place, understand how the sausage gets made. So you didn't fuss about your role, it was easier to let things lie as they were and maybe bring it up later on.

It wasn't even you that brought it up, it was Sydney.

"God knows we need more help in the kitchen but no, let's keep the register covered!" She threw up her hands with an exasperated groan.

Carmy's face scrunched in confusion, looking towards the wall as if he could somehow see through it and visualise you out the front.

He spoke your name like a question, one that Sydney was very quick to answer.

"Carmy, please tell me you're not serious?" She even laughed a little as she picked up the cloth on her shoulder and threw it at the man. "Have you two even spoken once?"

And then it was Carmy that finally brought it up with you, calling you into his office as he heard you getting ready to leave for the night.

You poked your head into the small room and smiled at him. "Yes, chef?"

He waved you in, turning his seat around till he was facing you. Carmy was hunched over, obviously tired with his elbows resting on his knees.

"Why didn't you tell me you graduated from Kendall?"

Your mouth suddenly felt dry, eyes going wide like you'd been caught out in some kind of lie. You hadn't really lied, had you? Just maybe not told him the whole truth.

"Well, I-uh-" You stuttered your way through, hoping he'd just give up and drop it.

Carmy was a surprisingly patient man.

Your voice could hardly be called more than a whisper as you spoke. "I told Michael."

Confusion was written on his face as his brow furrowed. "What?"

"He just thought I'd be better as front of house, thought maybe the customers would enjoy something nice to look at."

Carmy felt his eye twitch, his elbows nearly shattered his femurs as he his whole body went rigid. "Excuse me?"

He wasn't even sure why he'd asked that last part, it wasn't like he was listening. As you babbled away in the doorway, all Carmy could hear was the blood rushing in his ears.

Michael had said what? From the moment Carmy laid eyes on you he had wished nobody else could. He didn't want a single person to be able to look at you the way he did, he wanted you all to himself.

And his older brother was happy to let any of the bastards off the street look you up and down through the front window? He actually encouraged it?

Carmy stood up quickly, maybe too quickly, he felt like his head was spinning off his shoulders. As his heart nearly burst out his chest he realised what he needed. Keeping his head low, he turned to look at you and suddenly felt it.

The world slowed down a little bit, everything settled back nicely into place. You were smiling, albeit nervously, but you were there and you were smiling.

Carmy ran a large hand over his face as he spoke matter-of-factly.

"I want you in the kitchen starting tomorrow morning," His eyes locked onto yours. "Chef."

You didn't really remember where it started, well- you kind of did. You think it might've been a late night, both of you the last to leave the kitchen and you'd been talking each other's ears off like you usually do.

Carmy definitely made the first move, there was no doubt about it. You seemed to think he'd had your hips pinned to the edge of one of the stainless steel benches as he caught your lips with his own.

You'd felt the firm muscle of his neck beneath your hands as you cradled him like he was precious. Well, to you at least, he was precious.

It'd ended with him walking you to his office, making you kneel in his chair as he took you from behind. You remembered his hands closing over yours, where they gripped the back of the chair, fingers locking with yours.

You remember the flashes of his tattoos as he dropped one of his hands in front of you, sliding down your front to the centre of your thighs- how his hips didn't falter once as his stroked you to perfection.

Everything Carmy did was perfection.

His food made your eyes roll back in your head, his movements could make your mouth water, his words could have your whole body twitching,

In your eyes, Carmy was built on a pillar of perfection.

Not that he'd ever see it, anyways.

You'd both done your best to keep your private lives private, but this kitchen, this kitchen felt like family. It wasn't long before the glances between you both, the poorly timed arrivals and departures from the place began to add up.

Sydney was the first to notice, she didn't even say a word. She'd just seen the way you looked at him, how you'd light up when he praised your food, how your body reacted when he'd place a hand on your back to move behind.

Sydney was always observant when it came to you.

She didn't need to say anything, anyway. Tina coined on soon enough and then it was all over. Obviously, she told Richie, who told Fak, and the rest was history.

You and Carmy never confirmed or denied at work, but at least you didn't need to try and hide the way you felt about him. If they saw you kiss in the car before work, everyone just let it be (most of the time anyway, Jerimovich).

The confirmation never came because, well, you'd also never confirmed it just the both of you. He wasn't your boyfriend, there was no real label to what was happening.

You were two people who wanted everything to do with one another and very much enjoyed the other's company. That was simply that.

Any given night of the week, you could be found curled up on Carmy's chest either at his apartment or yours. Any of the other nights, you were probably underneath him or perched in his lap crying his name.

Neither of you felt the need to force a label on it.

By the time Claire showed up, things had become- different?

Carmy had been good about it, really good about it, he'd told you straight away that he'd seen her again and he had feelings for her. You'd both spoken at lengths over the dinner table about what this meant and the decision was mutual.

There was no label on it, he never belonged to you.

The rest of the family were harder to convince that this was for the best. Richie had actually walked out when you'd explained that you and Carmy had stopped 'seeing' each other.

Sydney couldn't deny she'd felt initial shock about it, too. It sort of blindsided her, but then there was a little something in the pit of her stomach that she couldn't- wouldn't name.

It was actually her that tried to have the 'come to Jesus' speech with you about Carmy.

"I'm not above begging, you need to start fucking that man again."

You nearly spat your coffee out, leaning against the front counter watching Sydney pace back and forth. "What on earth are you-"

"It was so much easier when it was you and Carmy," She stopped in her tracks, turning on her heel to look at you. "Since Claire turned up he's been impossible."

Even you had to admit that you'd noticed a change in Carmy since Claire showed up. He was so distant, he was hard to tie down, he seemed more on edge. He reminded you more of the Carmy that first arrived at this restaurant all that time ago.

It was a shame, you thought, he'd been doing so well.

You wiped a drip of coffee off the side of your mug as you placed it down beside you. "I really don't think me fucking Carmy is the answer."

Sydney gave a small shrug that almost came off as agreement. She wouldn't say it out loud but it definitely wasn't her first option, it wasn't even her second. If Sydney had it her way, she didn't want to think about Carmy's hands on you again.

And she'd thought about it. A lot.

"Something has to give, I don't think I can handle him canceling one more plan."

You sighed, a full-chested sigh that conveyed you felt her frustration. Pushing yourself off the counter, you placed a hand on Sydney's shoulder. If you were her, you would've felt the pure electricity that radiated off your touch.

"I'll at least talk to him, how about that?"

The talk didn't really do much. Carmy promised to do better, there was an apology in there somewhere. But you come to find out days later that'd he'd bitched out on another plan with Sydney.

Men, can't live with them!

It was in his office (without him of course, he was with Claire) with Sugar and Sydney that you'd all made up your minds. Well, you planted the idea and it grew from there.

"Lets just go get a drink, I don't think tonight is worth wasting any more energy."

Sugar jumped at the chance, already walking back out front to grab her purse. Sydney needed a little more convincing, her spirits a little crushed and her soul a little tired.

You'd managed to hush her up, giving her marching orders to get in your car and look like she was enjoying herself. Which, she ended up doing.

The booth was a little sticky and the music was a little shitty, the lights were so dim you could hardly see but you were having fun. Even Sydney had to admit she was having fun.

"Okay, fine! I'm having fun!"

Sugar let out a squeal of excitement, bringing your glasses together to cheers. "Here's to forgetting my little shit of a brother!"

After she said it, she turned to you with an apology on her tongue. "Oops."

You laughed it off, raising your glass and taking a sip. "No harm done, remember, we were-"

"Never togetherrrr." Sugar finished for you. "So you keep saying."

You just shook your head, calling the waitress over for another round. You ordered for yourself and Sydney before Sugar stopped you from getting hers. "Don't worry, Pete's on his way."

The three of you needed each other, needed this bond, needed these drinks, needed this moment. Regardless of your feelings towards Carmy, you'd all been scorned by him in some way, shape, or form.

It even felt good to hear Sydney get her real feelings off her chest.

"And you know what? Not to sound un-girls-girl, but fuck Claire!"

It was met with a quiet "fuck her!" from Sugar.

"She comes to the restaurant, she's just staaaaanding there, she knows she's taking up all his time."

All of you needed to get it out, you maybe the least. You knew it was hard for everyone else to understand, but you really didn't hold any resentment towards Carmy. Maybe a little, for leaving the kitchen high and dry. But really, you just enjoyed the memories of you two.

You and Sydney were a halfway through your new drinks when Sugar stood from the booth, grabbing her bag.

"Alright, I love you two more than life itself but I must depart!" You laughed as the tequila spoke for her.

"Bye, Shug!" You called after her as she waved and blew kisses at the both of you before disappearing through the door.

Leaving just you and Sydney alone at the table, you smiled at her as she intensely studied the grain of the wood. Sooner or later, she looked up and caught your gaze.

"Are you actually okay with Carmy and Claire?"

You smiled, earnestly. "Yes, I'm frustrated that it's upsetting you, but I'm inherently fine with it."

Sydney swallowed hard, you would've been able to hear it if the Brooks & Dunn in the bar wasn't so loud. She rolled the edge of her glass around the table before she spoke up.

"I just don't know how he's so okay with it."

You immediately thought she meant his letting the restaurant slide. But you knew Sydney, you knew her just enough that you could tell there was something sitting below the surface. You cared enough to implore it.

"Okay with what?"

She pulled her lip between her teeth before she looked up at you, like she was staring into the sun.

"With letting you go."

Your face softened, enough that she noticed. But Sydney also quickly noticed that it was a look of pity. That stung enough to make tears well on her waterline.

Pulling your jacket over your shoulders, you began to shuffle out of the booth. "I'll settle the tab and then I'll drive you home."

Sydney had never felt more like a tall child.

The lights of Chicago blurred past her eyes as you weaved through the streets. It wasn't lost on Sydney that you drove with one hand, the one closest to her was free and resting on your thigh.

She wanted nothing more than to reach over and hold onto it, maybe move it to her own thigh. As if you could read her mind, she caught the way your eyes flickered over to hers.

Slowly but surely, you lifted your free hand but instead brought it to the dial on the radio. As you turned it, she could hear the music in the car consuming her.

'And when I'm back in Chicago I feel it...'

She expected you to pull your hand back to your own leg but instead you reached over the gap of the centre console. Your hand brushed against hers as you took hold of it, squeezing it once and leaving the weight of it in hers.

Sydney knew that she had her chance, so she simply squeezed back and wrapped her other hand around yours with it. She held you tightly, like you were precious. Because you were.

She rested your hands in her lap, leaving them there against the soft fabric of her trousers as you continued you navigate the streets with one hand. When you pulled up outside her house, Sydney physically felt herself deflate.

Not only did you have to draw your hand back to kill the ignition, you'd reached the destination. It was up to her now to pull herself from the warm hold of your car and retreat to her room alone.

She weighed up the level of damage involved with throwing all caution to the wind right now. She figured she could just turn to you and let it out. Sydney could do something for herself for once.

As she balled up the courage in her chest, she didn't realise how long you'd both been sitting in silence until you finally spoke.

"Are you going to invite me up?"

And then Carmy loses his rag when he's locked in the chiller.

He laments about his failures, how much Claire had blinded him. He'd thrown your name in the mix, he'd apologised (for whatever reason) and decided his great epiphany.

If he'd never left you then none of this would've happened.

You weren't sure if he meant locking himself in the chiller or just everything in general. You weren't even in the kitchen at the time, this was all secondhand from Richie.

At the time Carmy was bearing his heart and soul to you, you were out the back of the restaurant holding back Sydney's braids as she emptied the contents of her stomach.

"I'm so sorry, this is so gross-"

"Don't apologise to me, how long has this been going on?"

The sound of the door screeching open tore your attention back over your shoulder.

"You really need to get in here- oh, what the fuck?"

"Richie, shut the fuck up. Can you get us some water?"

He grimaced a little at the sight in front of him but you pushed him with a flash of anger across your face. Yes, it was gross, but there weren't that many parts of Sydney you weren't fond of.

Even the ones that weren't pretty.

By the time Richie had come out with the water glass, he'd pressed even further how much you needed to get back into that kitchen. You knew it must've been bad if he wasn't even willing to tell you the details.

When you saw Claire by the chiller, you were moments away from asking for an explanation. You swallowed the words quickly as her face lit up in a hot rage, wet with tears. Before you could even think, she was turning on her heel to march out of the kitchen and back through the dining room.

What the actual fuck was happening?

It was a messy wee thing for you all to deal with, but deal with it you did. Sure, there was irreparable damage between Claire and Carmy (and you, by association), but the kitchen was stronger than ever.

And Sydney was happy again, back to having Carmy's attention and support at work. You saw the way she moved, her shoulders free of tension as she worked at her station. You just liked seeing her happy.

Sydney was happy, she was very pleased to be rid of the distraction that was forcing the kitchen apart. However, there was a gnawing little pit of jealousy that lived in her stomach and threatened to force its way out.

With Claire gone, there was nothing keeping you and Carmy apart.

She'd had you once, one perfect night. You'd been splayed out in the centre of her bed, her name falling off your lips as she settled in between your legs. She'd had a taste of you, and you weren't something she could just be okay with letting go of.

You were built from perfection.

So she waited, she waited for the other shoe to drop. There is always another shoe. Sure enough, no matter how hard Sydney tried to hide from it, it inevitably found her.

You and Carmy had arrived in the morning, same time, already laughing about something as you came through the door. That's all she needed, that feeling in her stomach expanded until she could barely breathe.

She caught the way Tina smiled at you both, a knowing smile. That cemented it for Sydney, if Tina had noticed it too, there was no doubt that it was unfolding in front of her and there wasn't a damn thing she could do to stop it.

And why should she stop it? You were happy! So was Carmy! And he was back to being fully present in the kitchen just like she wanted. But she'd be damned if she could get the thoughts of him touching you out of her head.

Touching you like she wanted to do. Like she'd done once, so fucking well.

Sydney wondered if Carmy really cared when he touched you? From the moment she held you she knew she wanted nobody else to do it, not the way she had. And now knowing that she had to share you? She felt like her head was going to spin right off.

She wondered what'd happen, when you finally told Carmy about what happened between the two of you. If you even would tell him. Did it mean as much to you as it did to her? Did it cross your mind every night like it did hers? Did you touch yourself as you lay in bed, reminiscing over that night like she did?

Probably not, she decided. You probably had Carmy to touch you, to hold you, and that would be consuming your mind. Sydney figured herself out to be an afterthought, a fun night that was never meant to become anything else.

When everyone was shutting the kitchen down and you were walking towards her across the dining room, Sydney braced for the worst. Silently, you helped her with the place settings until you spoke up.

"I told Carmy about us, about you and I."

In some sick way, all Sydney could really focus on was the fact that, even in the smallest form, there was an 'us.'

Without lifting her head, she continued to work on the cutlery. "And what does he think?"

You snorted a quiet laugh through your nose, a sound that should not have made flowers bloom in Sydney's chest. She couldn't breathe.

"He was jealous, I don't think he liked the idea of someone touching me like he does."

Sydney couldn't stop herself before her mouth opened. "Wonder what that's like."

In her peripheral vision, she could see your whole body still. Slowly, she trailed her eyes up the length of your body until they fixed on your face. Wounded, you looked wounded.

A sicker part of Sydney liked the idea of you finally knowing how she felt.

"I am so sorry, I never meant-"

"No, it's fine-" She cut you off, standing up to full height and brushing her hands on the front of her chef's whites. "I should've never got so attached."

"Sydney, please let me-"

"It was always meant to be you and Carmy, and now it is. Anyways, isn't this what I wanted?"

As she begin to walk away, leaving you alone in the dining room, Sydney mulled the same question over in her head.

Isn't this what she wanted?

"I just feel fucking terrible."

Your hands splayed out against Carmy's chest, fine hairs under your fingertips and inky tattoo's muddling against your skin. He held you so tightly as you rolled your hips in his lap.

"Don't worry about it, baby." He responded, breath a little clipped as he fucked up into you. "She said it's what she wanted."

You rolled your eyes before your eyes rolled back, Carmy's cock hitting the exact spot you needed it to. "You didn't see the look on her face or hear the way she said it-"

"To be honest, sweetheart, I don't really want to be visualising Syd when I'm balls deep in you."

Snapping your gaze down to his, you realised pretty quickly that you shouldn't have. Carmy looked incredible, eyes blown out, sheen of sweat across his skin as he put all his energy into fucking you. Ignoring the pang it sent to your stomach, you used the leverage of his shoulders to bounce on him.

"I really fucked up, Carm. I knew how much she was into me and I was selfish about it."

You couldn't really be sure he was listening to you, with the way his hands were running up your front to tweak at your nipples. You tried not to give away what it was doing to you, but a few whimpers escaped your lips, regardless.

It wasn't lost on you the way the corner of Carmy's lip quirked up at that. He took his eyes off your body to fix on your own, fighting for your attention as he kept rolling your hips against his.

"Selfish? What were you missing me or something?"

Your eyes narrowed at him, hand leaving his shoulder to playfully smack his cheek. It immediately conjured a groan from deep within his chest, a sound that hit you right in the middle of your stomach and made your hips falter.

"You're bad, Carmen."

"Yeah?" He questioned you, hands gripping your hips to lift you slightly, increasing the pace of his own thrusts. "Well you're worse."

You wanted to argue with him, you had it on the tip of your tongue but the minute he started jackhammering his hips into you- it was gone in an instant.

"Missed me so fucking bad that you got into bed with Sydney. You laid back and let her put her mouth all over you, because you couldn't get what you wanted from me."

The words were crazy, he was speaking pure insanity but the way his cock hit deep inside you was enough to curb your arguing. The minute you tried to open your mouth, a pathetic moan slipped right off your tongue.

"Thaaaat's right," He cooed, goading you into more embarrassing little sounds. "You missed the way this felt so you had to go get it wherever you could."

It was a lot, it was nearly too much for you to handle. Right as you thought you were slipping, that he was going to win eternal bragging rights, you found your own again. Tensing tight, you made sure to choke Carmy's cock on his next thrust.

The man beneath you froze, eyes rolling back and hips stuttering as you clenched around him. Finding yourself, you pressed your hands back on his pecs as you bounced in his lap.

"Not quite, Carmen," His name dripping like silk off your tongue. "Sure, you might've decided to fuck off on me but it's not like I was hard up on options."

Carmy tried to respond, but it was his turn for the words to get lost in his throat. His hips bucked up into you, cock twitching at the feeling of you gripping him even tighter.

"Look at me," You ordered, his eyes shooting open to take in the sight of you above him. "Do you really think someone that looks like me, looks as good as I do right now would be hard up?"

You caught the slight shake of his head, the way his hands fixed back on your waist and pulled you down on him with every bounce. He was desperate, the way he speared you straight on his cock was sending shockwaves right through you but you fought to remain in control.

"I could've had anyone I wanted and I chose Sydney, because I've seen the way she looks at me."

You leaned down, lips up close to his ear as you spoke. This close, you could hear him whimpering for you, the heady sounds emanating from within him.

"I fucked Sydney because I needed someone to treat me the way I deserve. When she had her mouth on me, it felt like I was being worshipped."

Carmy squirmed under you, you'd been in this position enough times to know exactly what was going to happen. His lips fell open and the string of incoherent moans you'd know him for began sounding.

"And you know what, Carmen?"

You could hear him chanting quiet little sounds of 'what, tell me baby?' as you spurred him on.

"I think you both need to learn how to share."

A visual splashed across Carmy's mind. The sight of you, face down ass up. Your mouth between Sydney's spread legs as her head crushed into the pillow. Carmy's hands pulling your hips back onto his as he fucked you roughly from behind. The both of them sharing you.

All of a sudden, Carmy pulled you down into his lap and launched his hips up. His head tipped back, his mouth fell open as he came deep inside you. Your name was the only thing he remembered how to say as he shot several hot ropes of cum into you.

The sight of it was something to behold, your hand falling down to rub between your legs as you felt him finish in you. It was all enough to push you right over the edge, head dropping into the crook of his neck as you reached your own peak.

As you came down, you felt Carmy's hand rubbing soothing circles into your back. The blood rushing around your ears was dissipating and you could only just register he was speaking.

"Huh?" You asked quietly, lips gently pressing against the skin of his shoulder.

"You can have it," He repeated, fingernails gently scratching up your spine. "Whatever you want, you can have it."

Apologies were an uncomfortable beast. Carmy was coming to terms with them a little better, after a bit of self reflection. He figured they made him uncomfortable because they were necessary.

For you, you were feeling lucky that Sydney was the forgiving type. You’d fully expected her to ask you to go fuck yourself when you’d attempted your apologies. Nice enough, she’d been quick to forgive.

In her eyes, she just wanted whatever part of you she could get her hands on.

That was probably why she was here right now. Back in this bar with you, the bar that (as far as she was concerned) was the beginning of everything.

That’s why she was also astonishingly fine with Carmy being here too. She was even sitting shoulder to shoulder with him. It was then you noticed they were moving in sync, the way they both raised their glasses to their lips at the same time.

Your eyes flickered back and forth between the two, shitty music making up for the lack of conversation and dim light dancing across the both of them.

They looked good this way, this is how they were almost meant to look. Content? Beautiful?

Looking like everything you ever wanted.

So it was a natural course of events, when the three of you later burst through the door of Carmy’s bedroom. You stopped at the end of his bed, trapped between the two of them.

Carmy’s chest to your back, Sydney pressing firmly to your front. Trapped.

Trapped, but completely willing.

Hot, physically and theoretically. The heat that was radiating off the both of them was consuming you. Sydney's hands were desperately working up the front of your shirt, feeling across your chest to cover any stretch of skin that she could.

Carmy's hands were on the waist of your jeans, undoing the button and fly as he dove down the front of them. His strong, skilled fingers felt you through the thin barrier of your underwear.

Your head tipped back, resting on one of Carmy's shoulders. Sydney took her chance, bridging the gap and closing her lips on your throat. You could feel her sucking at the skin, teeth gently running along the column of your throat.

The unmistakable feeling of Carmy hardening against your ass was ever present in the back of your mind. As Sydney worked you up, Carmy was pushing your jeans down your thighs, pressing his cock further into the split of your ass.

His lips came to your left ear, you could feel the heat of his breath as he spoke. "You look so fucking good like this, feel so fucking good."

As his fingers began to breach the front of your underwear, it was Sydney that was making moves on your right ear. "Been dying to taste you again, once wasn't ever gonna' be enough."

Your hips bucked up into Carmy's hand as he stroked you slowly, Sydney's teeth gently gripping your earlobe. It was overwhelming, the bother of you whispering exactly what you needed to hear, working together.

They worked well together, one glimpse into the kitchen and you could tell they worked well together. But even now, the way they were touching you, talking to you- they were the perfect team.

"On the bed, sweetheart." Carmy spoke as he drew his hands from your underwear.

Sydney stepped aside to let you move, watching you kick off your jeans as you moved to the bed. She moved towards you briefly, helping you pull your shirt off over your head and throw it to the side.

As she moved back beside Carmy, you stared up at the both of them under half-lidded eyes. Carmy had stripped down to his underwear, a large hand gently palming his cock through his briefs. He moved to the end of the bed, gripping your ankle and pulling you towards him.

"Get down here, Syd." He ordered, as if they were running the pass.

She was quick to follow the order, kneeling down beside him with her hand wrapping around your other leg. They both pulled you in closer, Carmy taking the initiative to get rid of your underwear.

Sydney reached forward, her hand running up your stomach gently enough to leave goosebumps. "You're un-fucking-believable."

You laughed, just quietly, head rolling around on the mattress as they both stared at you like your next meal. Not waiting for another instruction, Sydney brought her mouth against your entrance and gave you one long lick.

Head tipping back, hips raising, your mouth flew open with a string of moans. Her tongue was unbelievable, moving across you quickly but not failing to miss a single spot.

You could feel the familiar prodding of Carmy's fingers, moving under Sydney's tongue so they could work together. Two of his thick fingers breached your entrance, curling up as Sydney's tongue kept up it's ministrations.

"That feel good, baby?" Carmy's voice snapped you back into reality. "Feel good when we share you?"

All you could do was nod, nod furiously as you rolled your hips down to feel more of their combined efforts. Your hand gently reached behind Sydney's head, pulling her in closer till you were effectively humping her face.

"Yeah, that's right- let her have it." Carmy cooed, his fingers still pumping into you whilst his other hand was pressed to his crotch.

Sydney only moaned, the vibrations hitting you straight on and sending a surge to the pit of your stomach. Carmy could feel the way you were clenching, being well versed with your body he knew exactly what was on the way.

So when you whined at the feeling of him withdrawing his fingers, he was quick to shut you up by man-handling you up the bed. "Hush, you're so fuckin' spoilt."

And you knew he was right, everything you wanted you always got it. That's why you were settled back against the pillows, watching him strip off his boxers whilst Sydney's shirt was being discarded.

You quietly slipped a hand between your legs, gathering the wetness from Sydney's spit to rub yourself. Your eyes fluttered, head tipping back into the plush bed as you watched Sydney reveal more skin to you.

"Baby can't even wait a fuckin' minute?" Carmy questioned, kneeling on the bed to grip your hips.

In a swift motion, he flipped you over. Still holding your hips, he pulled them up until you were face down with your back arched. He could always get you exactly how he wanted you.

Sydney came around the bed, sitting in front you with her hand coming to cup your jaw. "You deserve everything you want."

As she cooed at you, she leaned in just enough to press her lips against yours. You could hear the sigh from Carmy, no doubt rolling his eyes as Sydney quickly gave into you.

Sydney knew your games just as well as he did. Difference was, she didn't mind. She'd feed into you for as long as you let her.

Your mouth dropped and a moan slipped onto Sydney's tongue as you felt the head of Carmy's cock pressing against your entrance. As he eased into you, your eyes began to roll back, hands shooting out to grip Sydney's thighs.

"Want- ah fuck- want to taste you." Your voice sounded breathy and desperate.

Sydney eased herself back, legs spreading around you as you hungrily dove to get your tongue on her. Without wasting a second, you ran your tongue from her entrance to her clit and listened keenly for the sounds she made.

Looking up from under your tired eyes, you saw the blissed expression on her face. Both your arms hooked around her thighs, lips closing around her clit to suck gently.

Carmy fully sunk himself into you, giving you a second to adjust to the stretch. Soon, he was rolling his hips in a steady rhythm that was sending you even closer to Sydney's cunt.

You felt a large hand splay across your lower back, Carmy soothing you as he began to speed up. He fucked you hard, watching the way you clenched around his cock and moved your head quicker between Sydney's legs.

This is what he'd imagined, this was exactly what he'd thought of that night (and honestly, a couple of other times in the shower before work). This was a sight he could get used to.

Carmy wasn't all too keen on sharing you, he had an underlying penchant for jealousy when it came to you. But as he watched Sydney cup a hand around the back of your head, as he heard you moan directly into her core, as he watched you fuck yourself back onto him.

He figured this was definitely worth a little hit of jealousy.

Sydney's hips rolled up to meet your mouth, her backside lifting off the bed as she pulled you down against her. Quiet little whimpers of your name were drifting perfectly off her lips. Her eyes were switching between fluttering shut and fixing dreamily on you.

You could feel the hint of your release working it's way up your body. Strengthening your grip on Sydney's thighs, you pulled her in tight so you could suck at her clit, listening for what it did to her.

"Holy- fuck- oh God- I'm gonna' cum-"

Looking up at her, you found her eyes on yours. Drawing back just a little, you laid your tongue flat against her before running it up, flicking the tip of it against her clit and watching her eyes screw shut.

Sydney rode your face through her orgasm, the feeling running red hot through you. You could hear the faint sounds of Carmy talking you through it. "That's it, make her cum- you're doing so good."

His words were too much, coupled with the taste of Sydney on your tongue and the feeling of her gripping tight onto you. Your hips began to roll back against Carmy, desperately searching for the relief you needed.

Feeling his hand wrap underneath you, Carmy began stroking you towards your orgasm. His chest came to press against your back as he spoke in your ear. "Come on, baby- that's it- cum for us."

Eyes going a blinding white, you felt yourself collapsing into Sydney's lap as your orgasm overtook you. Gripping tight around Carmy, you threw your hips back against him as he pressed himself flush to you.

You felt him twitch inside you, a string of curses leaving his lips as he came for you. You felt his hot cum hitting deep inside of you, leaving you feeling completely full. All you had left to do was fall, splayed out, in the centre of the bed, totally fucked out.

Carmy was the one that cleaned you up, but it was Sydney that brought you the glass of water and tucked you up. You felt her soft kisses against your forehead and by the time you opened your eyes, you could see she was already fully dressed.

You reached out for her, grasping her hand gently before mumbling something about "we should do this again."

Faint sounds of her laughing about that with Carmy caught your ears, but the sleep was taking over too much for you to be able to understand the joke.

When Carmy joined you in bed, wrapping you up in his arms and pulling you close to him, you managed one more mumble before you finally crashed out.

"You guys work really, really, well together."

#carmy berzatto smut #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x gn!reader #carmen berzatto x gn!reader #sydney adamu smut #sydney adamu x reader #sydney adamu x gn!reader #the bear smut #i've tried to proof read it 100 times but i usually miss something lmfao #carmy berzatto x reader x sydney adamu #carmen berzatto x reader x sydney adamu #carmy x reader x sydney #carmy berzatto x sydney adamu

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obriengf · 2 years

Text

Suds & Sponges || Stiles Stilinski x femReader

Summary: Stiles does everything he can to see the cute girl at the car wash. Words: 6k Warnings: cute af stiles, he’s obsessed let’s be real, and reaallly awkward Notes: this is a weird writing approach that i took.. it’s about Stiles’ perspective? idk?? dont hate it pls, also i started this off good and then i fkucked it up toward the end so.. sorry about that

Eyes squinted as you peered up to the sky; the blinding heat of the sun only partially blocked by your hand as it acted as a makeshift visor, your skin licked with Californian summer warmth on the parts of your body that weren’t shielded by your denim shorts or tied-front tank. The weather was utterly idyllic and served as the quintessential backdrop of your Saturday activities. Your focus was drawn toward your strawberry-blonde friend next, her hands gripping at her hips as she stood with poise, leadership strewn within her words and body language. Lydia was making sure that her senior prom fundraiser was getting underway, and as Student Body President, the girl wouldn’t accept any standard less than perfect. This explained the near army line-up of students who would be joining you in making some quick cash - some happily volunteering, others practically forced against their will by Lydia’s strength when it comes to persuasion. You, however, just couldn’t say no to some fun in the sun, or the way your friend’s doe green eyes bored into yours with the utmost pleading expression you’d ever come across.

You were all separated into small teams, and within a few minutes, were surrounded by fresh sponges and an array of water buckets. A couple of Sophomores were coaxed into standing outside of Beacon Hills High with glittery signs describing a car wash; their excitement oddly infectious as it began to draw in customers from the passersby. Several vehicles had already started a queue, and the addition of the summer hits playlist that Mason had put together had begun to sing loudly through the speakers scattered across the parking lot.

You felt pumped as the atmosphere began to grow; the cooling temperature of the water acting as a stimulating contrast to the harshness of the sun, alongside the small chatter and laughs you shared between your teammates, Sydney and Malia. Lydia grinned wholefully and knowing that she was happy made you happy - except for the anticipated searching glances you would throw around every now and then, looking for the solid blue structure of a familiar jeep that had yet to make an appearance.

Stiles’ foot tapped anxiously against the pavement of the McCall driveway, his arms crossed tightly over his chest to prevent any further fidgeting or impatient flailing of his arms. When Scott told him that he wanted to swing by the car wash to surprise Kira, Stiles had instantly jumped into the jeep with exceptional speed after your name was thrown so casually into the conversation. He was now waiting for his friend to appear after being chastised for restlessness, Scott barely out of the shower before Stiles was rapidly beeping his horn and yelling for the boy to ‘get his ass in the car’ otherwise he was leaving without him. Ten minutes had passed, and his hand was hovering over the car horn once more before Scott skipped down his porch, an annoyed yet amused smirk pulling at his lips.

“Someone’s a little desperate.” He said, brows quirking at the gaping and inarticulate sounds Stiles was producing after being caught off-guard.

“I-I just need my car washed, dude.” The boy settled on, pulling his whisky hues away before clearing his throat. Stiles tried to ignore the snicker erupting from Scott as he rolled his eyes, body slipping hastily into the driver's seat. He just really needed his car washed, afterall. Stiles remained silent as he peered over the console, his body twisting so that he could concentrate on reversing back onto the street. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip and Scott couldn’t hold back another laugh at the urgency written all over his best friend’s face.

“No need to rush, Kira said this thing goes all day. Unless there’s another reason why you’re so eager- ” Scott quipped, eyes focusing on the slight clench that tugged along Stiles’ jawline and how his eyes grew two sizes bigger.

“What? I just need my car-”

“- washed, I know.” The amused tone of Scott’s voice broke through the other boy’s attempt to avert the conversation, a slight rosy blush playing upon Stiles’ cheeks as he refused to now take his eyes off the road ahead. Scott clicked his tongue, “So... this super obvious impatience has nothing to do with that fact that a particular someone is going to be helping out today?”

The Stilinski boy’s entire face was suddenly flushed, the pink shade tickling at his neck as he fell into embarrassment. He knew that he was easy to read at times, but not this easy. Just the mere thought of you had his heart galloping, a slight sheen of anxious sweat beginning to clam up his hands, his fingers tapping an unreadable beat against the steering wheel to absentmindedly distract his zealousness. He wanted to blink and have you appear in front of him; to feel the velvet softness of your touch, hear the melodic song of your laugh, and see the bright rays of sunshine that epitomised your smile. Stiles didn’t just want you, he wanted to experience you.

Scott was watching him with fondness - he recognised that look of butterflies, how emotions played into the giddiness that would build Stiles’ whole persona when he was around you. He enjoyed seeing his friend happy, and found the utmost humour in how distracted Stiles would become just having you in the vicinity. Scott had hope for his friend, a was a firm supporter in keeping that innocent teenage love alive.

Scott watched as the town sped past the passenger side window, houses and trees blurring into one strip of ongoing colour. He couldn’t help the quirk of his lopsided grin, eyes focusing outside, although he didn’t need to look at Stiles to picture the flabbergasted expression he was about to uphold, “You should just ask her out, man. Bite the bullet. What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

“Ugh, I dunno, Scotty...” Sarcasm was heavily present now, accompanied by a breathless scoff and very evident roll of whisky eyes. Stiles allowed his words to trail as he quickly glanced to his amused friend and back to the road, “She could hear me? Laugh in my face? Say no?”

The Jeep began to slow as it reared behind a line of cars filtering into the school parking lot, the ears of the two boys perking at the faraway summer tunes in the distance. Scott sounded a small chuckle at Stiles’ atypical catastrophizing, “Riiight... and what’s the best thing?”

“We get married, have three kids, two dogs, and live in a big house with a white picket fence. I’m Sheriff and she is an Elementary school teacher and we are really fucking in love.” He hardly skipped in a beat in his reply, the words falling so effortlessly from his lips in a pragmatic tone. And if prompted, he could immediately list the names of your children and breed of dogs as if he’s lived it for the past ten years.

“Have you thought about this already?” Scott interrupted the beginning stages of daydreaming, the other boy blinking rapidly as if he were knocked from a trance.

Whisky hues bulged as realisation hit about what was asked, and Stiles shook his head roughly, lips pursed, “Uh, no, nope, not at all.” But the raise of Scott’s questioning brow indicated that he saw right through him, and Stiles couldn’t help but manage a large groan, hands gripping the steering wheel until knuckles were near white, “Okay, yes. Can we change the subject now?”

Silence engulfed the boys - the only sounds now falling through the open windows, loud chatter and growing tunes creating atmosphere as the Jeep rolled slowly through the queue. Stiles didn’t need Scott nudging at his side and pointing in the direction of where you were situated, as he had already clocked you from the moment he passed the threshold, the sun raining down on you as he saw an ethereal glow around your form. You had him like putty in the palm if your hand, and was completely clueless about it.

They were now next in line and Stiles’ leg wouldn’t stop shaking from the growing anticipation, Scott needing to reach out and hold it firmly down to cease the nervous habit. His little crush has easily flourished into infatuation and just knowing that you were so close was enough to brighten his day completely, but patience was not a virtue in the Stilinski boy’s book.

The moment Stiles rolled the Jeep forward and put it in park, Scott was already slipping from the vehicle, causing Stiles to growl down to his friend, “Dude, where are you going?”

“I saw Kira when we drove in, gonna go say hi. Don’t fuck this up.”

Stiles made a noise of complaint, nostrils slightly flaring, hands lifting into the air with an iconic flail, “Don’t fuck what up?”

With a salute and a cheeky wink in Stiles’ direction, Scott dropped his body to the tarmac below, his tone quiet enough for only the other boy to hear “Asking Y/N out, dumbass. I’ll see you later.”

The sound of a car door slamming caught your attention as you rinsed out your allocated sponges, the chilled temperature of the water becoming a saving grace as your balmy hands were submerged within the bucket of soapy residue. You looked over your shoulder as you saw Malia welcome Scott, a smile quick to grow between your cheeks before you wiped your hands on the thighs of your shorts, skin sure to dry quickly within this weather.

“Hey.” You called, the boy glad to reciprocate your greeting as you both neared closer. He was wearing a smirk and you couldn’t think of why, only that behind him sat Stiles in the safety of the Jeep’s cabin. Your head tilted as arms crossed over your chest, “What’s got you all smug?”

“Nothin’. Just got a feeling today’s gonna be a good day.” Scott replied, his hands slipping nonchalantly into the pockets of his cargo shorts, lopsided lips continuing to pull up into an expression of utter cheekiness. He knew something you didn’t, you thought, but chose to not play into it for now. Instead, a nod of acknowledgement was offered before you pointed in the direction of Kira. Scott sighed gently, “Thanks... hey, maybe you should go see Stiles? I think he wanted to ask you something.”

He sounded so sure of himself as he headed away in the opposite direction, leaving you with furrowed brows of confusion and a sense of intrigue that instantly pulled your gaze to the vehicle standing before you. It took Stiles by surprise as you pulled open his passenger door, hands settling on your hips as you grinned up at him - your cheeks was mildly flushed from the heat, and your clothes clung more to your frame in the few places that had gotten wet. The look on your face screamed liveliness, along with the slight disheveledness of your hair. Caramel swirls swam as his eyes grew wider, words lost on the tip of his tongue as he drew you in; even with things slightly out of place, Stiles thought you were absolutely beautiful.

“You look hot...” Stiles trailed, eyebrows jolting up as he realised what he had said. He swallowed hard and inattentively gripped at his steering wheel, frozen as you breathed out a bashful giggle toward the tarmac below your feet. “Y-you know, b-because of the sun. Summer... summer, and, and all...”

Your bottom lip was captured between your teeth, the flesh tugged gently as you tried to hide the way your friend’s comment seemed to resonate with you. It was no revelation that Stiles was hardly a smooth-talker, but even you couldn’t help the fact that his cumbersome way of words was so inevitably endearing.

Your body gently lent against the frame of the open door, head tilted to the side before you offered a tender smile, “Scott said you wanted to ask me something?”

“Well, I-I...” The stuttering returned in the form of surprise, your comment throwing him off guard, in left field, under the bus. He was unsure how to reply regardless of the fact that he knew damn well what he wanted to say. Words collected on his tongue and they refused to leap, leaving Stiles in a predicament. You didn’t try to push him, instead raising a brow in softened confusion, an indicator for him to continue. All that the boy could do was gulp, his adam’s apple bobbing before he released a nervous chuckle, “I was wondering if, if you’d... you know.. if you’d like to, if you’d wanna... give Roscoe a good ol clean...”

Stiles internally cringed - he was sure that he might have possibly externally cringed, as well. He watched through a slightly squinted view as now both of your brows rose, bafflement so evidently present in your eyes. It was unexpected, yet not entirely abnormal for the Stilinski boy.

“I mean, yeah, that’s why I’m here.” You answered, trying to pull away from the questioning tone that was desperate to nip at your response. You shone another grin before closing the car door, your lips falling the moment he was out of view. You hated the feeling of hopefulness; the exhilaration and anticipation was nothing compared to the deflated aftermath that would often follow. You couldn’t even tell if he was happy to see you and it was starting to put a damper on your mood.

The sound of your name broke you from your bubble of thought, Sydney and Malia standing in front of you with cleaning supplies ready and questioning gazes of their own. It was a brisk decision to brush off your strange encounter with Stiles, instead focusing your energy on fulfilling your duties for the day and experiencing a little fun alongside your friends. Maybe he just didn’t feel the same butterflies you so often homed in your stomach.

Stiles sunk deep into the driver’s seat, his hands gripping at his face as they muffled the long and pained groan that he released the moment you disappeared from his sight. He had one job, and it was to ask you out. A handful of words, a quick sentiment. It would have been over and done by now but he lost whatever ‘cool’ he had left, and now he was paying the consequences by chastising himself in the seclusion of the Jeep.

Stiles’ head bounced back gently against the worn plush of the seat before pushing out a mellowing sigh between his teeth. He couldn’t help the anxiesties that began to flutter in his mind - worried if he blew it, scared that he turned you off for good. He hastily pulled out his phone, fingers hovering over an open message conversation with Scott as he tried to think what to say. He mumbled a quiet ‘fuck it’ under his breath before allowing his thumbs to spill word vomit into a text; hashing out his insecurities as he explained how the impromptu plan failed miserably. All that he got in reply from his large paragraph block of text was a simple ‘you’re an idiot’ from Scott’s end. For once, Stiles Stilinski agreed.

Ten minutes or so passed before Stiles could finally hear some sort of clarity from the ceased rinse cycle of the hose, his eyes opening to be met with a spotless windscreen. He slowly pushed himself into an upright position in time to see you talking to Malia, a smile finally returning between your cheeks, and Stiles could’ve sworn that if he stared for much longer than he’d be sinking back down into that seat in the form of a loved-up puddle. And he almost did, if it wasn’t for his passenger door opening and Scott making his way back beside his friend.

The boy laughed, “Dude, pick up your jaw.” He said to Stiles, observing just how intense the infatuation was really becoming. Stiles fumbled as he broke from his entrancement, his throat coughing as he cleared it to cover up his brief moment of rapt focus. He could feel Scott’s glare burn into the side of his skull - an odd concoction of amused disappointment at how he so easily messed up such a simple task.

“Don’t.” Stiles said, simply, his teeth gritted and tone offering a soft warning.

“ I didn’t say anything - ”

“Okay! I know I fucked it up, I know!” He continued, groaning again, his head falling back to the headrest as large hands covered his face once more. His voice was obstructed, yet Scott could make out the tiniest of details - something along the lines of how Stiles was planning on running away to another country and changing his name.

A small knock against the driver’s side door caused the nervous boy to suddenly jump, even more so when he saw you glancing up at him from the other side. The window was quickly wound down before he smiled - a grin that was very highly-strung, yet he couldn’t help but show happiness as you looked toward him with those bright eyes.

“I can promise you that Roscoe’s looking like a brand new car.” Your voice was airy, trying to feign a tone that didn’t express the mild discontent that you were still feeling. You heard as Scott chuckled in the background, a comment made about how you have yet to see the five rolls of duct tape holding the engine together, before Stiles reached behind him with a soft blow to his friend’s bicep.

Lanky fingers were quick to fumble around in his pocket before pulling out a folded bill of cash, a much appreciated contribution toward Lydia’s fundraising goal. You accepted it was another smile, pink shades poking the tip of your nose as you said a quiet thanks in return.

An awkward silence began to set in as you suddenly found your entangled fingers an interesting distraction, Stiles stealing glances toward you as he picked at loose threads on the hem of his tee. It was driving Scott crazy. “Thanks again for the wash, Y/N. We’ll see you around.” He called out over Stiles’ shoulder, hand raised in a wave as he tried to push some life back into the gawky tension. You immediately reciprocated his sentiment, showcasing the splendour that always managed to draw Stiles to your eyes, and the benevolence that built up the smiling curl of your lips.

Stiles had never wanted to stay at and leave a place so bad in his life.

“I should’ve just said it, right? When we were leaving... I should’ve just asked her... right?” This was the third time that Stiles had brought up this topic since he and Scott left the parking lot of the School. Indecision was clawing at him and fuelling anxieties that will surely play on his mind for at least another twelve months. Minimum.

Scott sighed for the third time, too, his head lolling to the side to look at the straightened figure beside him, “There’s always next time, man. You’ll find another reason to talk to her.”

Stiles’ lips curled in as he pondered numerous scenarios; scenes flashing through his mind like a video on fast forward, considering when would be the perfect time to just ask you out. But Stiles Stilinski wasn’t much for predetermined plans when in this headspace, choosing to impulsively turn the jeep around on the empty road and head for the Preserve, not much more than a five minute drive away.

Scott’s eyebrow quirked, his tone questioning, “What’re you up to?”

“Just doing what you said. Finding another reason to talk to her.”

Scott never anticipated that he’d find himself some time after staring at his friend as they stood in front of the Jeep, a look of incredulity forming the purse of his lips and furrowing of his brows. They were alone and luckily shrouded by a canopy of trees, blocking out the heat from the sun. Scott opened his mouth before closing it, the action continual as he tried to come to terms with what Stiles just asked. “Can you repeat that? Not sure I heard you right.”

“I said...” Stiles announciated, reaching down to grasp a handful of the earth's soil, “Throw dirt on my car.”

So, Scott did hear him right, the gentle chocolate hues of his eyes widening significantly as Stiles hurled his handful of dirt across the hood of the Jeep. The iconic sky blue shade quickly turned to a murky grey as more dirt was piled on, but Scott remained standing back in confusion. It wasn’t until Stiles ushered him again, that he eventually lent down to grasp at his own handful.

The intentions were well, but the moment Stiles heard loud clinking sounds, his head immediately spun to face his friend and you’d think from afar that the world was ending there and then.

“Scott, dude... the rocks!” Stiles yelped, a whine slipping next from his lips as he leapt to his hood, checking for damage. Fingers carefully treading over any possible dints, his voice now hoarse as whispered words were spoken under bated breath, the softened force blowing dust specks into the air, “Not the paintwork, don’t scratch the paintwork...”

Eyes could not have been rolled back further before hands were held high in defence, Scott taking gentle footsteps backwards in time with his chuckles of disbelief, “You’re completely insufferable.”

And the Stilinski boy was. His mind was running a million miles per second, hyperactivity busying his thoughts and playing upon all emotions. Stiles felt like a ticking time bomb, yet held so much placidness at the same time - a conflict that he was yet to decipher. He so easily scolded himself for his indecisiveness, but just seeing your face as he briefly closed his eyes reminded him that there was a suchness in being contented. There was a reason, a way, and he desperately needed that light that you shone so benevolently to finally ground him.

With a huff and shake of his head, Stiles stood back to his full height, lips managing to pull into a smirk toward the other boy, “Just a bit more dirt, Scotty, and we’ll try a take two. I’ll get it right this time.”

You didn’t expect to turn around and be faced with a familiar front bumper, leading up into a dusty grey-toned vehicle that looks as if it’d been driven full throttle through a sandstorm. Your brows rose as you treaded a few steps over the heated tarmac, the back of your band absentmindedly lifting to wipe at the sweat gathering on your forehead from the midday sun. You couldn’t help the breathless laugh that fell from you when you saw that the window to the driver’s seat had already been wound down, as if the driver himself was expecting you to pay visitation to his side again.

You lent up as far as you could until your arms were just able to sit within the space of the missing window, your chin leaning on top of them as they crossed. Your throat hummed, “What’d you guys do to all our hard work?”

Stiles snickered sheepishly as his own arm was thrown behind his head, pink shades playing upon his cheeks, “I don’t know, we just, ya know... found it like this...”

Scott nearly choked on air at the poor excuse.

“You found Roscoe like this?” You spoke with yet another question, somewhat intrigued with where this story could take you, and how Stiles’ typical knack of overdramatizing would feed the recount, “And what do you think may have happened for the Jeep to look like it took a nap in a garden bed?”

“Dirt... storm?” He mentally slapped himself as the words left the tip of his tongue. Not only could he feel Scott sliding with immense embarrassment down the passenger-side seat, but he could also see the way the cogs tried to turn in your head with no avail to comprehend what he was saying. He cleared his throat before attempting to reiterate his reasoning, “Like a gust of wind, big gust, full of... dirt, super windy. S-super... super dirt-y...”

You tried to ignore the loud snort of amusement stemming from an eavesdropping Malia, her gaze focused on rinsing out rags and sponges only a few feet away from you. She had nearly finished the preparation for round two of cleaning Stiles’ car and it prompted you to push out your lips as you slowly nodded along to his story, “Right, sure. Well... if you need me - us “ You were quick to correct yourself, coughing to cover the slip up, “Us... we’ll just be out here, washing the Jeep, again.”

The second you stepped back, the window went up, and Scott practically numbed his friend’s arm from the bellowing punch he threw his way. He groaned as fingers pinched at the bridge of his nose, muttering a frustrated ‘unbelievable’ to his lap. All that Stiles had to do was keep his cool - but he was acting just as thickly as the summer air outside.

Scott eventually peered to the side, capturing Stiles’ stiff posture and widened appalled eyes. Stiles spoke with a raspy throat, “Don’t you even think about commenting on what the fuck just happened.”

But Scott couldn’t help it; gentle laughter pushing first through his nose before it was tangled among his amused words, “Dirt storm? Really?”

You finally felt relief as the harshness of the sun settled behind the body of the school; a saving grace that was much needed after the balmy exposure you found yourself within all day. The changing position of the sun meant that the afternoon was nearing dusk, and that meant that your day of work was nearly over. Yours was among a handful of other bodies that had gathered for a brief chat in-between customers, an array of stories and gossip shared until you were eventually broken away by the sound of your name.

Looking back over to where your team was stationed, your eyes grew to the size of saucers. Malia was in astonishment, gesturing toward that too-familiar Jeep as it rolled up to the spot that was practically theirs by now. You’d never have thought that you would be seeing these boys so many times in one day; yet here you were, wandering back up to the same window to be met by that same stupidly cute boy, with the hopes that he’d entertain you with yet another fashioned explanation.

You didn’t even have to a speak a word before Stiles was pouring out an excuse, his hands adding expression as they flailed helplessly around him within the small space of the cabin, “You should’ve seen it, Y/N, Scott’s drink just... it flew right outta his hands, right, and all over the bonnet. It was wild. Just totally... totally out of nowhere... you know... so... so crazy...”

Your voice was filled with mirth as you mimicked him, head nodding in acknowledgement, “So crazy.”

The faint scent of strawberry milkshake filled the air as you peeked over the the car’s front, a large splatter now meeting your gaze and it made you sigh in hilarity. You were confused, but still found your meet-ups mildly endearing.

What Stiles refrained to tell you was that he offered to by Scott lunch as compensation for his erratic behaviour, only to grow impulsive when he discovered another reason to find himself back at the car wash. He had plucked the drink and lent out of the car window, the beverage raining down onto the hood as Scott’s expression dropped into the utmost despair. He was getting more desperate, yet it only enraged the anxiety knotting his stomach.

You showed cheekiness as you held your hand out, awaiting another ten dollar bill before the cleaning commenced. The corners of your eyes wrinkled as you smiled widely, head only slightly tipped to the side, “Pay up, Stilinski. I’m not doing shit until you place a pretty Hamilton on my palm. I’m also accepting tips.” You winked his way, proud as you watched his head shake as a small laugh left his lip, and two bills were handed to you with no hesitation.

You bit your lip, head shaking as you gave one back to the boy, “I was joking.” You explained. More like, you were flirting, but even then Stiles huffed that he wanted you to keep it. For the fundraiser.

Stiles looked at you with all the adoration in the world - caramel eyes gleaming in the afternoon light as they softened over your face, able to easily fall into a daze as he smiled drunkingly at you. The butterflies quickly returned as they fluttered in your stomach, and it made your heart race and chest fill with warmth. You were chuffed. He made you chuffed. You own cheeks were flushing with a pink hue before you took a chance, hope-filled that he was feeling the same as you, “Is there anything else you need me for before I go?”

You were giving him the opportunity. You were throwing him a life-line and he knew it. It was right in front of him and he could grasp it and hold it close to his thumping heart if he really wanted to - but the boy was frozen. Words refused to push past his lips. His body stopped working. His palms were clamming up and Scott swore that Stiles had stopped breathing for a short moment.

His voice was uncharacteristically quiet as he was losing his courage, eventually finishing on another half-assed response, “Just... you’re doing a great job. Five stars.”

You patted at the sill of the car window, mouth curling in as you looked away. Disappointment flooded you once again, and you had to remind yourself why you shouldn’t grow hopeful.

It also reminded Stiles that he didn’t like to see you as anything but your usual epitome of sunshine.

“No. No way.” Hands were situated firmly on her hips as Lydia stood in the entryway to the Beacon Hills High parking lot. Stiles had rubbed god-only-knows what on his car and was back to see you again, but she wasn’t having any of it.

“Oh, come on, Lydia. Do you know how much I’ve contributed to this stupid Prom thing today? Just let me in.” He whined, earning himself an exhausted chuckle from Scott beside him.

She didn’t budge, and she wouldn’t. Lydia remained standing her ground with a neutral expression, her eyes only heeding a warning as her perfectly sculpted brow rose to challenge him. “I know exactly how much you’ve contributed. You’ve been here like, once an hour.”

“He’s trying to ask Y/N out.” Scott added as he ducked his head out of his window, voice laced with tiredness from his fractured day.

Green eyes rolled at the admission, fingers tensing as they wiggled over her shirt. She looked bored, and it made it easier for the smallest tone of judgement to wrap within her words, “I don’t think getting the girl you’re crushing on to wash your car all day is a good way to ask her out.”

Another strong punch to Stiles’ arm made him yip loudly as Scott stared at him, his eyes deep screaming out that he was unimpressed. His voice was low and scolding, “I fucking told you so, you idiot.”

Brown locks fell as Stiles’ head dropped to the rim of his steering wheel, a guttural groan echoing loudly around him. He wasn’t happy with himself, and if you weren’t so damn captivating, then he might have given up quicker. But he won’t, because he’s Stiles, and giving up isn’t a thing that he’s ever known to do. He was overly hyperactive, spontaneous, and strong-headed but he never was one to quit. Especially when it came to the cute girl at the car wash.

“Are you gonna let me in, Lyds?” He begged, tone defeated as he stared at the strawberry-blonde with wide pleading eyes. She clicked her tongue as she considered thought, her facade still not showing even the tiniest crack. Eventually, she stepped aside with a knowing look - another warning, a promise that if this didn’t end well then she’d show off what her anger truly entails. It was seen within her piercing eyes and protective scowl, truly terrifying when you’re found to be on the receiving end.

Stiles didn’t bother driving all the way up, opting to walk over instead with hands buried into the depths of his denim pockets to hide the nervous fiddling of his lanky fingers. He felt the dissipation of pressure when he noticed that you were alone, and the setting sun emitting a halo of light that framed you perfectly. If this wasn’t a sign, then he didn’t know what was.

He swallowed quickly, mouth suddenly dry as he lapped at his lips. This felt too surreal, like he was floating through a dream and that his body was filled with instant warmth as you looked over your shoulder and smiled at him.

“Hey, you. No car?” You asked, showing off a full toothy grin as your hands clasped behind your back. Little did Stiles know that you too were nervously playing with your fingers.

He smiled back, speaking honestly for the first time today as he stopped only a feet or two away from you, “Didn’t really wanna hide behind it anymore.”

It was easier to see him now that he was close enough to touch; soft brown freckles much more evident across his skin as they glowed in the afternoon light, a beautiful contrast to the dark moles that splayed constellations beside his cheeks. His eyes grew golden and you could practically taste the caramel shade that radiated so mesmerizingly from them. He was much more vulnerable as he stood with buried hands and a bashful boyish smile that made you feel weak.

He was so gentle and you couldn’t hold back.

“Did you wanna go out sometime? I mean - “ You laughed nervously, and Stiles couldn’t have found it any more adorable if he tried, “I like you. I know it sounds so totally middle school to say that, but I do. You make my knees weak, and my heart race, and i get these... these butterflies - “

“In your stomach? And it makes you feel weird, kinda sick but in a good way? The butterflies feel good?” He interjected, unable to hold back now that he had seen your feelings laying on the line.

Yout bit your lip, nodding in agreement, “Exactly. It’s like... a good nervous. A perfect kind of nervous. You make me smile and I swear I can feel my chest swell with so much happiness, it’s crazy.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow, “So crazy?”

“Yeah, so crazy.” You wanted to reach over and slap his arm from repeating your earlier words, his tone just as mocking, but it only showed you that everything you did meant just as much to him, as he did to you.

“I wanted to tell you all day... fuck, I like you too. Probably a little too much. That probably is probably a definitely... definitely a definitely - “ He hummed as he stopped to think to himself, getting lost for a short moment before the gentle touch of your hand was felt against his cheek, and Stiles could have melted to the ground right there and then.

You had to gulp down as you locked eyes with the boy, their doe-like appearance prompting your bottom lip to catch between your teeth again, “I definitely like you a little too much, too, Stiles.”

With careful movements, his hand raised to sit tenderly over your hold, and he was hoping that you weren't able to hear the hammering of his loving heart against the caging of his chest.

Stiles eventually released a breath he didn’t know he was holding, the sigh sounding content and pleased, “Burgers?”

You nodded in reply before your tone was laced in amusement, “Only if you promise not to throw my shake at your car.”

“I don’t know, if it means I get to see the cute car wash girl again, then maybe that’s a promise I’ve gotta break.”

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