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pathologicalreid · 9 months ago

Text

diphenhydramine | s.r.

in which reader has a hard time getting to sleep at night, leading to Spencer's step by step instruction of which hormones help you fall asleep

margotober masterlist

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: unprotected p in v sex, fingering, spencer infodumps while fingering you, restlessness, ambien, sex as a sleep aid, effective but not recommended, physiology, female masturbation, insecurity, reader doesn't pee after sex which you really should do, no clean up, but fanfiction isn't real. softdom!spencer. not thoroughly proofread. word count: 1.99k a/n: i thought i had this scheduled so imagine my surprise when i went to check tumblr and it wasn't posted. ANYWAYS. this one goes out to all the girlies with chronic sleep issues (me) and the person who requested this. don't like, don't read.

Your pillow was warm. Surely that was what was hindering your ability to sleep. Lifting your head, you flip your pillow over, resting your head on the cool side and turning to your other side.

Facing Spencer, you pull your arm out from under the covers, wondering if you should only change one variable at a time to see what actually helps you get to sleep. Huffing, you shut your eyes again, the usually muted traffic outside of your apartment seeming extraneously loud for this time of night.

You couldn’t put a name to it, but there was something keeping you up at night. You’d always had sleep issues, but your restlessness from the last several weeks was unprecedented.

“Angel,” your boyfriend says from next to you, reaching his hand out and placing it on your waist, trying to drag you across the sheets and into his arms.

Willingly, you move to his side of the bed, leaving space between the two of you to keep your body cool—maybe you were just too warm to sleep. “Did I wake you?” You ask, peering up at him through your eyelashes. He looks so ethereal in the diffused moonlight that seeps in through the closed curtains, the cool light falling over the harsh edges of his face.

He hums in response, opening his eyes and casually slipping a hand under your sleep shirt, resting his palm on your bare waist, “No,” he murmurs, even though you know he’s lying through his teeth. “What’s wrong?”

“Can’t sleep,” you tell him miserably, sticking out your lower lip even though he likely can’t see your face—his eyes would need to adjust to the darkness.

He shifts under the covers, gently skimming the pad of his thumb over your ribcage, “Have you tried Ambien?”

Your primary care physician prescribed sleeping pills for you, but you didn’t have any interest in taking them. “So I can end up at the Lincoln Memorial with my underwear on my head? No, thanks.”

“I would be very impressed if you managed to sleepwalk all the way to the National Mall,” he muttered, his voice clearing as he became more alert.

You sigh in exhaustion, “I’m multifaceted.”

Spencer kisses your forehead, “Go to sleep, multifaceted.”

“I can’t,” you complain, watching him through your eyelashes, “I’m open to suggestions.”

Your boyfriend groans at your impertinence, “You could try taking the pills that your doctor prescribed to you.”

Rolling your eyes in the dark, you tuck some stray hairs behind your ear, “Nope. Any other ideas in that big brain of yours?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you get kind of snippy when you get tired?” Spencer asks rhetorically.

Frowning in defeat, you consider going out to the living room to watch something on the TV. At least that way you would be able to let Spencer get some sleep. “Are you telling me that there’s nothing you’ve read recently that has any kind of information on remedies for restlessness?”

Next to you, Spencer stiffens, and you wonder if he’s cold. You turned on the ceiling fan in an attempt to cool down, “There are always new articles on sleep remedies, but none you’d be interested in.”

Your eyes flicker to the alarm clock on his bedside table, just past three in the morning, “I’m open to anything.”

“Orgasms produce some of the same hormones that are conducive to falling asleep,” he whispers, his ministrations on your waist coming to a halt.

Sighing, you flop onto your back, “I already tried that.”

He’s silent for a moment, “Were you touching yourself while I was in bed next to you?” There was a new lilt in his voice, some sort of shift as the type of frustration he was feeling changed.

Considering your options, you cross your arms in front of your stomach, staring up at the spinning blades of the ceiling fan, “Yeah, but I didn’t— I couldn’t—”

“You couldn’t make yourself come?” He finishes for you, the words that you couldn’t get out slipping easily past his lips.

It shouldn’t embarrass you, but you find your face warming under the cover of night anyways. “No,” your answer comes out as barely more than an exhale, “I couldn’t quite get there.”

With his hand now resting on your abdomen, your attention laser focusing on the way his pinky finger skimmed the elastic band of your panties, “Do you want me to try?”

Honestly, it wouldn’t be much of an attempt, like every other aspect of his life, pleasing you is something Spencer excels at. “I want you to go to sleep. I’m sorry for waking you,” you decline his offer.

He doesn’t move his hand, “Are you sure? I’m offering, if you’re accepting.”

“I-“ you falter, “I guess it doesn’t hurt to try, but only if you want to.” You were perfectly fine with going to the couch and wasting the night away in front of the TV screen. You’ve clocked a lot of time with the early morning newscast recently.

Spencer twists his wrist in response, looking at you in the cool light of the room, “I’m always interested in pleasing you.” He speaks to you quietly, retaining the reverent tones of the morning while slipping his hand deeper into your underwear. His index finger slipping easily through your folds, “Oh, you got close,” he whispers.

There’s no resistance as his finger breaches your entrance, already deeper than your fingers had gotten. Your mouth falls open, a small, choked gasp escaping your throat as your hand instinctively grabs at Spencer’s wrist, “Yeah.”

His motions are slow and precise, making sure you can feel every slight movement as he withdraws his finger before sliding it back into your pussy. Adding a second finger before his other hand pulls down at your underwear, haphazardly leaving them around your thighs before finding a rhythm. The peace of the night pauses only for the crude sounds from you, muffled by the blanket strewn over your bodies.

Gently, Spencer presses the pad of his thumb to your clit, maintaining the thrusts of his hand as he slowly encircles the sensitive nub, “Spence.” Your voice is a breathy laugh in recognition of just how quickly he can get you there.

There was something about having someone else touch you. When you do it yourself, you can hold yourself back or overthink it, but with Spencer’s hands on you—or in you, rather—there was nothing to hold back. “Sex can help you sleep for the simple reason that it’s physical activity, but it’s when you cum that your body releases hormones that can actually help you sleep,” his ministrations don’t suffer as a result of his physiology lesson. If anything, it all becomes more intense.

A sharp, high-pitched noise comes out of your mouth, the all too familiar knot in your lower belly coiling. And coiling. And coiling. “So, you can—” your voice cuts out as you gasp, “You can literally fuck me to sleep?”

Spencer hums a confirmation, “Sex reduces cortisol levels, and your body’s going to release oxytocin and prolactin,” he assures you, “and those will induce pleasant and relaxing feelings. All of which means I get to fuck you to sleep tonight.”

“’m close,” you breathe, closing your eyes as the pressure in your core nears unbearable levels. “Oh, Spence,” you say, your grip tightening on his wrist as his hands don’t let up on you.

His unoccupied hand reaches up to your face, gently sweeping hair off of your forehead in a way that makes you dizzy, his head falling to your shoulder before he kisses the worn fabric of your t-shirt, “You can cum, baby. It’s okay.”

He doesn’t want you to hold it in, so you don’t. Your head tips back into the pillows as the coil in your belly snaps, going off like a slingshot—sharp and quick.

Spencer’s fingers keep working you through your orgasm, slowing at the same pace that your orgasm does, the sheets sticking to your back as you slowly unarch, coming back to the surface as the pleasure of your orgasm drifts away almost as quickly as it came.

Every part of your body trembles as you fall away from your high, hooded eyelids staring over at your boyfriend as you catch your breath. Timidly, you reach down and push your underwear down your legs, kicking them off into the abyss of sheets to be discovered at a later date as you turn on your side.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispers, shifting under the covers as he pulls his cock out of his boxer briefs.

You hum, scooting yourself closer to him on the mattress, heat emanating from his body in a way that you now find welcoming, “You can’t even see me.”

Grabbing your thigh, Spencer slings your leg over his waist, opening your body to him, “Not right now,” he admits, “But I know you. I know the way you look right now, while I’m slipping myself into you.” His voice is low, but your attentions are focused on the feeling of his tip at your pussy, slowly pushing into you. He lets your body adjust, this isn’t an angle he usually takes you at, but you can feel every single ridge as he moves.

“I know the glossy look your eyes have right now,” he mutters, pushing your lower back closer to him, leaving his cock impossibly deep in you. “A combination of the orgasm that you just had and the sensations you’re feeling right now.”

You shudder at his words, tentatively rolling your hips against him, silently signaling to him that you’re ready for him to move. A soft cry escapes your lips as he withdraws his hips, pushing himself back into you while your cunt throbs around his length, “Spence.”

He grunts in response, finding a steady, gentle rhythm as your mind goes blank. You find yourself searching for that high again, “You feel so good, angel. So, so good.” His voice is low as he pulls your body closer to him still, “Fuck.”

“Spence,” your voice cracks at stimulation, overwhelming you as he breathes into the crook of your neck. You dig your nails into his back, trying to keep yourself from screaming as his hand slips between your conjoined bodies, swiping softly at your clit.

Spencer keeps moving, fucking into you as his movements grow messier and messier with each passing thrust. “You’re so pretty,” he repeats, seeing your features in the soft moonlight as your mouth gapes and your second orgasm quickly approaches.

Whimpering, you bite down on your lower lip, your leg that’s slung over him shaking uncontrollably as you chase your orgasm, “Oh my god,” you gasp helplessly.

“So good for me. Let it go, I’m close too,” he says, continuing his motions even as your pussy clenches around his length, the waves of your orgasm pulsating around him, sending him hurtling toward his own.

Stars dance in front of your eyes, and you let them fall shut. His movements come to a stop and you loose a sigh of relief at the realization that you’re exhausted. “Don’t go,” you mumble.

Spencer presses a soft kiss to your lips, holding you close to him with one arm while readjusting his underwear with the other. “I won’t,” he whispers, “You need to call your doctor about wanting new sleeping pills.”

You grunt in response, too close to sleep to form a coherent response.

“I’m not opposed to a more natural remedy, but I’m not always around at night, and I need to know you’re sleeping at night,” he tells you, his voice growing softer as sleep threatens to take him.

Humming, you nuzzle closer to him, letting your body melt into the mattress as you finally fall asleep. Staying cold was no longer a concern, staying close to Spencer was.

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havenhyunjin · 2 months ago

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safe space — bangchan

the one where you would do anything to be a safe space for him. word count: 1k

warnings: discussions of grief and loss, although not extensively. merely trying to process complicated feelings. hurt/comfort. angst.

a/n: i’m not trying to speculate on any grieving process chan is going through, but as he’s been vocal about his struggle with the loss of a friend, i created this also hoping that he does actually have loved ones to rely on and he allows himself that grace <3. rest in love, moon.

————————————————————————

The soft vibration of the diffuser was getting to your nerves. So was the sizzling meat in the pan you were cooking on. Even the sound of an opening door proved to be unsettling. That’s when you realized the sounds weren’t bothering you; you were simply on edge for entirely different reasons.

You knew how to deal with your own grief and loss wasn’t a foreign concept. You could manage it, and you did.

Not knowing how to deal with Chris’ grief was unnerving. You had no idea how to help him, if he wanted or needed help at all, and it left you feeling powerless.

Chris closed the door behind him and greeted you softly, as you replied for him to know you were in the kitchen. He walked closer to you, and gave you a soft peck on the lips to greet you with an almost imperceptible smile.

“How are you?” you asked, although you were fully aware it was a stupid question.

He shrugged and laughed without a hint of happiness. All you could come up with was a hug that you hoped would express everything you didn’t know how to say or show.

I love you. I’m here. I’m sorry. I got you, if you need me. I hate seeing you in pain. But your pain is not a burden. And you don’t have to talk about it. I love you. I got you.

As Chris melted into your embrace, you knew he understood, like he knew you understood him. Even in the unspoken nature of the entire process, you both could count on each other unconditionally and while it didn’t get any easier, Chris was certain that your patience and your love were a lifeline he would never let go off.

He kissed you in as a thank you - gently, no rush, hoping it would convey a part of the convoluted emotional state he was in.

I love you. Thank you. I don’t ever want to burden you. One day I might be able to talk about it. I’m grateful for you. I love you. Please stay.

With the way you kissed him back, enveloping him around your arms, he was entirely sure you would stay, and it meant everything.

The only reason you pulled away was realizing your food was going to burn otherwise. He laughed a little bit at you rushing to turn off the flame, and grabbed plates for both of you to have dinner. You sat down together to eat on the couch in front of the TV, playing a documentary that neither of you were really paying attention, but the point was being close to each other as you finished your meal in silence.

Chris was used to retreating and isolating himself whenever he was having a hard time; there was no reason to bother anyone else with his problems and sadness. One of the many ways you turned his life around was opening him up to the opportunity of relying and leaning on someone else.

He was still uncomfortable not showing up all the time as the strong, invincible leader he was supposed to be, but he decidedly knew now that is not what you expect from him. You just loved him, in every version.

You were still having a hard time accepting that you couldn’t fix everything for him either. There are some things that are inevitably debilitating for him, and as much of a rock as you tried to be for him, you couldn’t make this one go away. Chris, of course, doesn’t expect you to fix anything.

Regardless, in the comfort of your steady hand holding his, and in the comfort of his sad but loving eyes looking into yours, you both felt that everything would be okay.

With a display of vulnerability that was rare but welcomed, Chris moved to lay down in your lap. He curled up next to you, laying his head down and closing his eyes.

Chris didn’t know how to deal with his grief either, and he wasn’t sure anyone really knew how to do it. The fluctuation, unpredictability and non-linear nature of his process was excruciating. He wanted control over himself back desperately, but it didn’t work like that.

As you decided to lay down behind him instead, embracing him against you as your head rested on his back, he was reminded that not being in control all the time was natural. He closed his eyes, trusting you to hold him through it all, and for one night handing over the tight, heavy leash he has been trying to keep on himself.

Even though you didn’t see it, you knew he was tearing up and all you could do was hold him tighter.

I got you. You can let go with me. I’ll stay with you forever.

Even though he was crying, he was relaxing into you at the same time.

You’ve got me. I love you. Thank you. I love you.

The sadness, pain, loss and grief would not go away, but he had one less thing to worry about; hiding it. You know that you can’t make it go away, even though you wished you could, but what you could do was stay right here with him in his terms and that was good enough.

“Chris?” you called out to him softly. He hummed to reply, sniffing his nose while still letting his long held back tears out.

“I’m right here,” you said, although it was a universally acknowledged truth. Vocalizing it felt like hugging his soul, desperately letting him know verbally, physically, emotionally, that here you stay.

He nodded. He knew. He felt it.

“I know, baby,” Chris said, turning around to face you while you both laid down and held each other close. His troubles felt soothed, and damn near healed as you began pressing soft kisses against his face. He was smiling, each little peck reminding him that although life can be mind-numbingly painful, it can also be all-consumingly wonderful.

You are the living proof of every good thing the world has to offer, and he’s grateful. He was so eternally grateful for his safe space in you.

#stray kids #skz #stray kids imagines #skz au #skz fluff #skz imagines #skz scenarios #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader #bangchan skz #bangchan x reader #bangchan stray kids #bangchan fanfic #christopher bang #bang chan #Bangchan fluff #bangchan angst

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mihii-i · 5 months ago

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Hiii, can You write Moder!mizu g!p and female reader with Breeding Kink ? (Obviously safe)

netflix and chill.

Pairings: mizu x fem!reader

CW: nsfw, female reader, afab reader, g!p, modern au, breeding, marking, digging ur nails idfk, begging, mizu has a diq obviously read the request, if you don’t like this don’t interact cause I don’t headcanon this either but others do so leave me alone, netflix and chill yippee, penetration yay :3, raw sesbian lex because protection is for losers amirite (this is a joke pls use protection irl guys), mention of pregnancy but it’s up to u if reader is pregnant or not, shy mizu shy mizu shy mizu, she’s lowkey pathetic while fucking reader but it’s cute so who gaf, grinding lol, why are all my nsfw mizu works so freaky god, I always get embarrassed writing them, not proofread.

A/N: ouuuu my goodness you know what hell yeah let’s repopulate Japan with more blue eyed kids also no need to mention safe! I will automatically make nsfw fics safe unless the request says otherwise, and even then it’s heavily limited I may not hc this but yay let’s go🕯️

A gentle illuminating glow of the glossed flatscreen panned along the shadows of your face in the muted wake of darkness circling the couch. The only light present radiated from the warmth of the TV saturating yours and Mizu’s features as your cheek nudged into her shoulder, fabric nuzzling against your skin as her arm remained curled along your torso. You often found yourself huddled up to your girlfriend’s side quite late at night, eyes fixated on the familiar dynamic animation of the Netflix logo booming forward to dissolve into the familiar account menu.

Quiet hums of the dialogue ensued from the running show, screen flickering an array of flashes that reflected various changes of color lighting up your body. However, the dialogue only registered as a bellowing white noise that you drowned out from your view fixating on a certain someone, eyes transfixed upon her sharp features with adoration, so much so you couldn’t tear your eyes away.

Mizu kept her eyes locked onto the blaring screen before her, arm fitted snugly around the fat of your hips as she relished in the feeling of your weight pressed to her side. Despite staring so intently, you couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow as your gaze flitted up to Mizu’s stern expression. Strangely enough, she was far too focused on the show she was initially uninterested in, the aversion to any sort of attention likely beholding less innocent intentions behind the stoic front she kept before you in this moment.

“…pretty fucking boring right now isn’t it?” You interjected, cutting past the awkward silence fostered between you two.

She only delivered a silent nod as her mind swirled with an odd compulsion, thumb circling along the edge of your hip as the cool steel of her rings briefly brushed up below your shirt to elicit a small shiver from you.

Despite knowing that she wasn’t quite upfront with her feelings, tending to be more of the reserved type when it came to anything nagging at the back of her head like a parasite, Mizu tended to atleast hint at, or make obvious what exactly was bothering her. A tinge of worry clouded the widening pupils of your eyes taking in her figure lounged across the sofa, hand continuing to brush up along your body casually as the ongoing images of the show flashing by ran through one ear and out the other.

Storms of quiet, internal fury thrashed about in the deep pool of cerulean flashing across Mizu’s eyes as she firmly lowered her sights from you, the fabric of her black sweatpants rubbing up against itself as her thighs clasped together as far as they could go. Yet, the diffusing warmth of your body secure against hers continued to rack her head with the fury of unbecoming thoughts that ran rampant in her head just about now.

Fuck…you always snuggled up against her like this while watching Netflix, or anything..so why all of a sudden does it feel so unbearably hot? Especially in the frosted grasp of winter, and the lack of heaters in your dorm.

Everything around the two of you was consumed by a deathly silence eating at the pits of darkness swallowing up your surroundings apart from the TV itself, even the entrance to the kitchen appearing as a gateway to hell. Nuzzling closer to Mizu, your gaze periodically flickered over to her in the midst of each agonizingly long moment of dialogue, perturbed by your girlfriend’s unusual behavior today. Had you done something wrong? Was she uncomfortable..?

Clearing your throat, you managed out a barely audible reply, nearly close enough to a whisper as your fingers sank into the plush armrest of the couch to help yourself up. “I’m gonna go grab some more popcorn..okay?”

You wriggled out of Mizu’s grasp for a moment, finally earning a reaction from her as her head snapped up in your direction, eyes finally wide with a bit more life rather than mindlessly staring at the screen like a corpse. Rising to your feet, you trudged over to the shrouded abyss of a kitchen, sluggishly running your hand along the cool walls to navigate the lights.

The sharp brightness flooded into your eyes as you squinted upon recoiling, biting back a mewl of irritation at the sudden intrusion poking at your eyeballs. You weakly treaded through the tiled floors, the low cut of your pajamas pooling against the tiles as you rummaged through the pantry in search of a popcorn bag while longing to head back to the comfort of your dimly illuminated spot hemmed in Mizu’s grasp.

As you made your way back to the couch, Mizu seemed far more tense than she actually was, your expression wrinkling at the sight of her visible discomfort. Falling back into the grasp of the cushions swallowing you whole, you carefully allowed your hand to gravitate toward her, placing it onto bony ridges of her shoulder. She jerked forward in response, glancing over at you with an expression of internal panic scribbled all over. Seriously, what the fuck was going on with her?

“Mizu, what’s going on with you today? You’ve been all jumpy and stuff, it’s getting worrying.”

“Don’t..worry about it. I’m just not feeling well.” She dismissed, only earning a disapproving scoff from you.

“Bullshit. You never act like this. When you’re sick or something it takes me a while to notice.”

You craned over, hands planting onto the oppsite end of the couch past her thigh as you reached over to graze the bridge of your nose briefly below Mizu’s chin. Back slightly arched down, you shifted a hand over to rest on the opposite end of her waist, staring up to her face with a puzzled look. Her face was strangely a deeper shade of red, the warmth from her body practically burning your skin as you twisted your torso over to look straight up at her in the awkward position. Perhaps she really was sick if her face was this flushed?

“I- maybe I’m more sick than usual-“

Her words were hoarsely hitched out in a near gasp at the sensation of your proximity brushing up against her, your hand dangerously drifting closer to her thighs as she tried to clasp them together in a futile attempt, breath catching in her throat at your fingertips dancing along the woven fabric of her sweatpants stuck to her thigh.

“Oh come on, you’ve never been this cautious before! Just tell me what’s got you so-!”

As soon as those words left your lips, your fingers idly traced over the solid tent embedded at the center of her pants, cutting your words off abruptly as you saw Mizu’s eyes squeeze shut at the fleeting shock of her body twitching up.

oh…oh.

Your expression almost fell agape at the fact that you didn’t realize her hard-on sooner, head fogged with embarrassment as the blush seeping across your face mirrored hers while you bashfully looked away. You swallowed back the lump residing in your throat as your eyes averted back to the now prominent erection poking through the fabric between her thighs, Mizu’s expression beholding a hint of embarrassment, keeping her eyes averted.

Gods..she could’ve just said she wanted to knock you up and you would’ve complied. Seriously, this was about to be a Netflix and chill session.

“Sorry..” Mizu croaked out, wanting to bury herself in a hole and never come out from the sheer humiliation she felt from her girlfriend finding out that she was absolutely bricked. To be frank, she couldn’t exactly choke out any more words despite her embarrassment, considering the need to bury herself into the warmth of your cunt overpowered any other sense in this moment as her cock ached in the confines of her clothing.

Upon regaining your composure, you sighed out a small chuckle as your finger slipped along the waistband of her pants, her body curling up slightly at the smallest touch of your skin along hers. Of course, your hand retreated from her pants as your thumb ran along her bottom lip, her eyes boring into yours as they dusted over in a heightened intensity of need—her gaze alone screaming out that she needed your hands against her skin once more. A soft exhale made its way through your nose, lips pursed as you surveyed her taut muscles rolled back instinctively.

“Can I?”

She finally breathed out, her hips rolling up in small, almost unnoticeable motions if your hand wasn’t situated atop the tent in her pants as she desperately sought more friction from your touch. You let a smile stretch your lips as your legs mounted over to straddle her thighs comfortably, finding your pussy resting along her shaft throbbing between your legs.

—

“W-Wait..Mizu slow down..”

Your pleas were gagged by the crescendo of moans spilling from your feverish lips as she drove herself into you, trails of angry red marks blooming in a wake of fresh hickeys along the skin of your collarbone, up to your throat. Hands scrambling below you, you desperately rummaged along the empty cushions of the the couch your back was flush against to find some semblance of balance to ground yourself, only being able to weakly grip the edges before they slid off.

The engulfing heat of your cunt swallowed Mizu whole, velvety walls clenched around her flesh as the veins of her cock nudged up along the blanking heat tightening around her. A series of low whimpers wrenched out of her throat with each thrust burying herself into you, hiccuping back the shallow breaths accumulating in her chest at each of your lewd responses to her cock lodged inside you.

She was fucking big, no doubt. You couldn’t even bite back the strangled moan that the other dorms would definitely hear when Mizu first shoved herself into you, your cunt stretching to accommodate her girth protruding your hole as she sank deeper into you. Body jerking upward with each thrust, you could only cry out an incoherent string of moans as Mizu continued to ram into you, seeking more of your cunt’s warmth as the tip of her cock brushed along your womb.

Mizu continued to fuck you ruthlessly into the couch, your hands flying up grasp at her back to ground yourself as your nails dug crescents into her flesh, mouth hung open from the euphoric sensations pulsing through you at the delicious stretch of her cock massaging that one spot that made you cry out. Her pathetically desperate movements were far too adorable to you, the way she tried so hard held back those whimpers you loved oh so much, digging her cock to reach deeper into you as her head bowed down beside your chest, hair spilling over her shoulders and freely flowing down her back.

It was all just perfect. The way your insides practically molded to accommodate her, feeling the supposed illusion of her own stomach swelling with her deepening thrusts, her dick twitching within you with each fervent movement of her hips hilting forward—it’s as if you were the lock to her key. The way she kept trying to find a spot deeper that someone of her length could easily reach in a desperate attempt to nestle herself within your warmth forever. Hell, you imagined what it would feel like if she just got you pregnant at this point.

And as if she read your mind, linking you two intellectually in the raw instinct and desire consuming you two in this moment as she continued to sheathe herself into you, your moans harboring a few aroused gasps at the sight of her cock coated in your glistening slick. Mizu finally gasped out as well, her words slurred together and deeply craving the safety of your cunt grasping her tightly.

“Please..please please please, fuck- let me put a baby in you, (Name)..” she sobbed out, fighting back the urge to throw her head back in bliss as her words came out desperately. “Let me cum inside…I’ll take good care of you, and our kid..just-“

She was cut off by the tide of pleasure flooding her body, rubbing the ridge of her leaking tip along your g-spot like a puppy in heat as she mustered up every ounce of strength she had to continue fucking you. Damn it. She seriously wanted plant a kid inside you didn’t she? The way her dick practically begged your cunt to foster her inside your slick heat so she could leave herself inside you, wanting to spill inside you and have a baby of your own that mirrored the two of you.

She seriously was making it tempting wasn’t she?

Mizu lowered herself onto you weakly, pressing herself up against you, her skin flush to your own as her hips persisted in now gentle thrusts rolling within you to jerk up against your abdomen at an angle. Through your pleasured haze, you only responded with a nod, gaping your jaw to try and speak through the flurry of whines and cries assaulting your throat in sync with Mizu’s own.

“P-Please..yes. God- just fill me up already you- mmph..”

Mizu was near ecstatic at your words, her hand snaking behind your head as her moans persisted. The unfelt taste of what she thought your slick would feel like seeped into her mouth within the illusions of her fucked out mind, eyes rolling back weakly as she whimpered out a small series of ‘thank yous’ alongside your name as if it was a mantra on her lips, cock twitching against the spongy interior of your cunt.

Her hips swiftly met yours in one final motion, a hiss sizzling from her grit teeth as she pushed herself against you as if she had been deprived of your touch for an eternity, tits shoved up against yours, silently pleading to never let go. A long, guttural moan was ripped out of you as her hot cum spilled into you, decorating your insides a salty white. You watched, amused as Mizu tried to shove back in any drop that dared to leak out of your pussy, trying to keep her fluids inside you to swallow every ounce of her cum.

Mizu merely collapsed on top of you as she withdrew herself from your cunt, cheek nuzzling against your left breast as you let out a breathless laugh. As monstrous as she was while fucking you, she was just a woman who was satiated of her need and adoration she had to express, her arms locked around your body as her eyes nearly fell shut. Huh. The bright blue in her irises seemed to also bask in the afterglow of sex along with her body.

“Are you mad I probably knocked you up?” She hummed, her hand wrenching out from the weight of your back to lace her fingers with yours. You hummed in response, bringing your limp hand near your chest.

“Not at all.”

“Good…I just..kind of want a family with you someday..genuinely. Just, to have a peaceful life that’s all.”

“You’re cute when you’re not being all stoic and mysterious you know.” You replied with a gentle laugh.

“Well get used to it. If we’re gonna be parents sometime then..”

she trailed off, her head lulling against your chest as she dozed off, her energy fully spent from the aftermath of her intense orgasm as well as yours.

—

“Ugh- what the-?”

The vibrations of Mizu’s phone buzzing violently against the glass coffee table not too far from the couch jittered along the glass, her eyes catching sight of the sliding accept button for the incoming call as well as the barrage of notifications front the friend group chat with you, Mizu, Akemi, Ringo, and Taigen in it. She tiredly climbed off of you, clutching the blanket pooled at the foot of the couch and carefully tucking it over you before making her way to the phone. Of course, none other than Taigen calling her.

Her mood was already killed when she saw that she had to get off cuddling her girlfriend to lift a call, and what could Taigen possibly want that wasn’t chewing her ear off for a sparring match at kenjutsu practice? Of course, she didn’t notice you groggily blinking your eyes open as you sat up, muscles sore and aching from your previous activities.

“What?” Mizu demanded, putting the phone on speaker as an unamused expression remained plastered to her face.

“Why haven’t either of you been answering our texts in the groupchat? We wanted to make plans to meet up at a sushi restaurant on Saturday.” Taigen huffed, his voice coming through as to inquire what could possibly keep you two from answering.

After a moment of silence his voice cracked into the speaker again, sneering out to earn a reaction of sorts to get an answer. “What? Were you two fucking or something? Is that why you were away from your phones?” He asked, his tone wasn’t exactly condescending or mocking, just a little annoyed.

Mizu only scoffed, responding back in a hoarse voice. “Good job, you’re not a total moron. She’s pregnant now.”

A shocking silence gripped the atmosphere, Taigen’s shocked expression already palpable through the confines of the audio call screen—before he finally spoke up, the groupchat exploding with messages since the other two were probably with him.

“…Mizu what the actual fu-“

A/N: HELLO??? I ACTUALLY GOT LOWKEY EMBARASSED WRITING THIS IM FRYING. WAY MORE THAN MY OTHER MIZU FICS CAUSE THIS ONE EAS LIKE FREAKY FREAKY YK

also sorry if it’s kinda subpar cause I just got back from midterms haven’t written in a while and my brain is fried in hot oil- anyway I’m gonna consume 30 gallons of holy water after this I love the freakiness but holy shit. ALSO HEY WHY IS THE MIZU X READER TAG DYING OUT KEEP IT ALIVE. It’s ok mihi is here to save yall with another mizu fic

Also it’s so funny bc I lowkey imagine myself as reader when writing the mizu fics..and I know I would be snapped in half by the way she’s handling reader here because I’m like fucking 5 foot 1 help

Also I cannot crop the fuckass banner and make it look good help me so it’s big for now you get the luxury of square image banner and not thin rectangle AHHHHHHH

mizuuuuu ahahahahdhdhd

1K notes · View notes

thebearer · 1 year ago

Text

in your eyes, the man that i could be |carmen berzatto x reader| part two

prompt: after carmen finds out you're staying at pete and sugar's house, he goes to try and talk to you. he's faced with his furious sister and harsh truths instead.

or part two of the devastation fic lol that is based off this ask from the other day <3

contains: angst! angst! this one is very much so more carmen focused bc let's be real... he's the problem in this one lol. still hurt with no comfort but more this one than last one?? mentions to past trauma, family trauma. sugar clears carmen in this one. slight mean carmen still, slight angry carmen still. language. dad!carmen x mom!reader. no resolution but the make up is in the next and final part! still heavy so read at your own discretion! word count- 4.8k+

Fak twisted his hands, nervously watching Carmen pace back and forth furiously. One hand running through his hair, tangled and matted from the continued motion; the other lifting and pulling the cigarette to and from his lips. Fak wasn’t sure how Carmen wasn’t sick yet. He’d never seen him smoke so much, seen anyone smoke so much.

“Neil, I’m not fuckin’ playin’ anymore, ok? You’re startin’ to really, really fuckin’ piss me off.” Carmen’s jaw ground tight, voice starting to growl with that gravelly warning shake that had Fak flinching. “You better tell me where you put my fuckin’ car keys, alright? I-I’m not sitting here, ok? I’m not gonna sit around wi-with my fuckin’ thumb up my ass like a jagoff while my wife and kid are a-at fuckin’ Sugar and Pete’s!”

“Carmy,” Fak tried to keep his voice calm and firm, like Sugar and Richie had coached him to, hyping him up before he entered the house. “I can’t give you your keys right now, becaus-”

“-Oh, fuck you! Fuck you! Who the fuck do you think you are, huh?” Carmen roared, teeth bared and eyes narrowed.

Fak didn’t think he’d ever say it, but he missed the sad Carmen from before. When he’d been sent to check on Carmen and Richie, to find out where the hell they were before Sydney had a meltdown in the kitchen, only to find a nearly hyperventilating Carmen and an unsure and frantic Richie trying to calm him. Fak had known Carmen a long time, his whole life, really, and never once had he seen him so… so sad.

That sadness was long gone now. In its wake, an anger, worse than before, than he’d ever seen or could have imagined. Fak had just tried to comfort Carmen, offer up some encouragement that you and Teddy and Anchovy were all ok, taken care of- at Pete and Sugar’s. He didn’t realize how that would flip the switch, how it would infuriate Carmen.

“I-I’m Fak.” Fak blinked, nervously. “You know me. I’m your friend, Carm, and I-I’m just trying to help you-”

“-You’re trying to help me? You’re trying to fuckin’ help me by keepin’ me away from my wife?” Carmen’s voice boomed, shaking the walls of the house.

Even in his loud rage, the house seemed too quiet, too still. There was no baby TV show on, no hum of the diffusers, or Anchovy’s small purrs and chirps. Carmen missed him, missed him jumping on the counters just to piss him off. He missed you defending him, missed how Anchovy would startle and run anytime Teddy would gurgle or whine.

God, he missed Teddy. He spent the first night in the nursery, sitting in the rocking chair, staring blankly ahead, wishing he had the small screaming bundle to rock to sleep.

Carmen couldn’t bring himself to go into the bedroom. Not again. Not after he found your ring laying there. He’d scared Richie so badly with his cries that Richie had enforced the ‘Mikey Prevention Plan’, his twisted humor of a way at keeping Carmen from being alone, from hurting himself in his misery.

“Carm, I-I can’t.” Fak stuttered, looking at the door, begging Richie or anyone, really, to walk through the door. “You know I can’t.”

“This is fucked up, Neil. You know that? You know how fucked up this is? Keepin’ me from-from Teddy? From my kid?” Carmen took a long drag of the cigarette, smoke blowing out of his nose with his panicked breathing. His hands still shook, everything was still shaky and rattling with uneasiness inside him.

“Carm, I- Don’t say that.” Fak shook his head, he could feel himself caving. Carmen could too.

“You’re keepin’ me from her, Fak. You know that? You know you-you’re keepin’ me from my daughter? My baby? Don’t you-you know how fucked up that is?” Carmen shook his head, lips pursing in disgust. “You’re lettin’ Richie boss you around like he always does, an-and you know, you know deep down that this is wrong. Keepin’ me from them is wrong.”

Fak hesitated, a nervous sweat breaking out on the back of his neck. “Richie said-”

“-Richie can get fucked. Ric-Richie doesn’t know shit! He doesn’t know shit, you know he doesn’t know shit, a-and you’re lettin’ him tell you what to do? Richie?” Carmen scoffed, throwing his hands out. “The fuck does Richie know, huh? H-He’s divorced, an-an-and barely sees his kid-”

“-Hey!-” Fak’s eyes widened in shock. “Carmen, you don’t-”

“-Is that what you want? You want me to end up alone?” Carmen’s eyes are wild, crazed, but he goes still. “Y-You want me to end up like-like Richie? Li-Li-Like that?”

Fak swallows, both standing in the thick, tension filled silence. “Carmen, I-I can’t.” Fak shook his head slowly. “I don’t… I think you need to, I don’t know, I think you need to calm down before you go see them.”

“Calm down, you’re tellin’ me to calm down.” Carmen snarled, bitterly scoffing at Fak. “Fuck you. Alright? Fuck you. I will never forgive you for this shit. You hear me? You-You doin’ this to me, keepin’ me from my family. I’ll never fuckin’ forgive you.”

Fak flinched, Carmen’s words cutting brutally through him with a bitter sting. Carmen stormed off, the front door slamming with a force that sent vibrations through the house. Fak was surprised it didn’t split the wood in two. Walking towards the front window, he saw Carmen storming off, furiously lighting another cigarette, running a hand through his hair, again. Fak assumed he was out of Spirits, that he’d smoked through another pack, walking to the corner store to get more. After thirty minutes, he called Richie, frantic that he’d let Carmen loose.

“What part of Mikey Prevention Plan don’t you fuckin’ understand?” Richie sneered over the phone, trying to keep his voice low so the new hires didn’t hear. As far as they were concerned, Carmen was on a vacation, only the OGs knew the truth.

“I-I didn’t mean to! I swear!” Fak’s voice lilted high, a shrill of nerves that had Richie’s eyes pinching in annoyance. “I thought he was going to the corner store to get more cigarettes, an-and then he didn’t come back for a while-”

“-What’s a while?” Richie muttered, catching Tina’s eye through the glass. She set her rag down quickly, walking towards him.

“I dunno… Fifteen, thirty minutes?” Fak mumbled. “Maybe closer to an hour now. B-But then I went to look for him, and he wasn’t there, so I asked the guy working and he said he hadn’t seen him, and-and now I’m driving around trying to find him. I-I’m shouting his name out the window and everything!”

“He’s not a dog, Neil, he won’t-” Richie huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I know where he’s at.”

“You do?” Fak perked up.

“Yeah, I mean, no, but I-I’m pretty sure I know where he’s at since you fuckin’ told him where they were stayin’.” Richie rolled his eyes bitterly. “Just- Come over here and get me, alright? Let me call Pete- God, you and this fuckin’ kid, got me callin’ Pete. You’re killin’ me Neil Jeff.”

Richie hung up the phone with a huff, looking up at Tina. “What’s goin’ on? Jeff alright? What’s he doin’?” She pressed.

“Yeah, Fak-Fak fuckin’ lost him.” Richie rubbed his forehead in exasperation. “But, I think I know where he’s at. Have a pretty good idea, anyways.”

Tina eyed Richie carefully. “Richie, you know I love that kid, you know I do. But if he’s fuckin’ with Mama,” Tina shook her head, lips pursing in fury. It was no secret how taken she was to you, even before the affectionate nickname that came with the pregnancy.

“He’s not,” Richie shook his head. “He’s stupid, hot headed, a fuckin’ baby- all that. But… C’mon, T, you and I both know he loves her. He wouldn’t do anything to them. Do somethin’ to himself before that.”

Tina paused but nodded, face softening. “So, you know where he’s at then? You don’t… You don’t think he’s gonna…” She couldn’t bring herself to say it, looking at the picture of Mikey with Richie, Tina, Ebra, and Marcus only a few months before he passed. Carmen had placed it at the front, a reminder of the legacy that was there before him, of The Beef and his brother.

“No, I hope not.” Richie muttered, looking at his phone’s screen with dread, Pete’s contact on the screen gleaming back at him nearly mockingly. “I think I know where he is.” He sighed, pressing the button.

Pete could feel his phone buzzing in his pants, ignoring it as he held the front door in a white knuckled grip. He hadn’t expected to see Carmen there, on his Ring camera, knocking on the door softly, softer than he expected given his manic looking state.

“H-Hey, Carm,” Pete closed the door as casually as he could, only leaving a sliver open. “What, uh, what’s up, man?”

“Hey, Pete,” Carmen could barely meet his gaze, suddenly overly aware of how disheveled he must have looked.

“Uh, what-what brings you by?” Pete stuttered, heart picking up when he heard the soft thump behind him, Anchovy lurking behind his legs curiously. He gripped the door, shuffling his legs together, trying to close it on his frame so Anchovy wouldn’t slip by.

“C’mon,” Carmen sighed, a tired look in his eye, too exhausted to even be pleading. “You know why I’m here, alright. I-I know they’re here.”

“W-Who is? Sugar? Yeah, she-she’s off today.” Pete stiffened at the claim, swallowing nervously, trying to play it cool. Anchovy meowed loudly behind him, cringing when he was given away by the cat.

“Pete, don’t-” Carmen pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing in slowly, trying to calm the tears that threatened to fall. He could hear Anchovy, hear the sounds of the house- the home. Soft child shows, the hum of the dryer, all the things that made the house feel alive. Carmen would give anything to have his home sound like that again, the silence was beginning to drive him crazy.

“Where is she?” Carmen looks up, his gaze much harder than before, a frantic look beginning to take over his sadness.

“I, uh, I-I don’t-” Pete stutters, fingers tapping on the wood of the door anxiously.

“-Pete, I really don’t want you to fuck with me right now, alright?” Carmen takes a deep breath, trying to swallow back his emotions that were already beginning to climb in his throat again. “I need to- I-I need to see her, Pete.” Carmen couldn’t bring himself to say your name, sure even the first syllable would have him in tears, breaking down on the front porch.

Another meow, louder than before, came before Pete could answer. The soft scratching of Anchovy’s paws on the door, a demanding meow that Carmen knew all too well. He’d learned to drown it out, or try to. It became nearly a soundtrack to your sex life when you’d first gotten the cat, locking him out of the room so you two could fuck, only for him to yowl and scratch and demand to be let in. Carmen could remember how you’d giggle, pouting at him exaggeratedly to let him in. His heart fell with an ache that was warm yet still made him feel sick.

Pete looked down at the cat, then back at Carmen, a hesitant grimace on his face. “Carm… You-You know I would,” He started. Carmen’s heart soared with hope, eyes wide, a near adrenaline rush of excitement shooting through his system. “But…You know I can’t.”

Carmen’s heart crashed, shattered with the hope he’d finally begun to find, to feel again. “What the fuc- Pete, that’s… Pete, c’mon. C’mon. Yo-You gotta let me in. Let me in.” Anger surged through Carmen’s chest. He closed his eyes tight and tried to swallow it down. All he’d been is angry. For weeks now, it had been a never ending cycle of anger and sickness and distraught, all amplified to new heights the second you left.

Carmen could feel himself spiraling, ears starting to ring again, rushing and roaring flashbacks flooding into his mind. Your face when you left, Teddy’s cries, the critic’s pursed lips, Sydney’s disappointed face when he forgot something again, Tina’s eyes cutting. Carmen turned, shaking his hand lightly, trying to do a breathing exercise he saw on YouTube, years ago when he’d moved to New York.

His breaths were deep, shaky, but deep enough that it cleared his head, dulled the ringing. His mind wandered back, Richie’s voice ringing in his head. “You wanna get her back? Quit actin’ like a goddam baby. Quit actin’ like this isn’t your own fuckin’ fault. Like you didn’t do this shit to yourself, Cousin. Take some fuckin’ accountability, grow the fuck up, and get your motherfuckin’ shit together, alright? And maybe-maybe you’ll get your family back.” Richie’s voice rang clear through his mind from a few nights ago, when Carmen was especially mean and awful.

“Hey, uh, you alright?” Pete hesitated, leaning towards Carmen, his grip on the door loosening.

Carmen took a deep breath, running a hand over his face before he turned back towards Pete, eyes shining with tears that threatened to fall. “Pete, please? Please?” Carmen begged, voice soft, cracking at the end. “Please, jus-just let me see her? L-Let me talk to her? Just- Let me tell her tha-that I’m sorry. Please… I need to tell her I-I’m sorry. Don’t-”

“-Carmen?” Sugar gaped, her voice coming from behind Pete. She pulled the door open, shocked gaze dropping into furious, jaw setting in a near snarl. “What the fuck are you doing here?” She hissed.

“Why do you think I’m here, Natalie? Huh?” Carmen snapped in anger, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

“Oh, you’ve got a lot of fucking nerve showing up here.” Natalie snapped back, pulling the door open and stepping out on the porch. She stood in front of her younger brother, arms crossed in a standoff.

“Pete, go inside.” Sugar sneered, her gaze not moving from Carmen’s. She felt like they were children again, having a staring contest to see who got the last piece of gum from Donna’s purse, only this time, it was for worse.

“Nat, I-”

“-I got it.” Natalie said firmly. Pete didn’t argue with her, simply nodding, shutting the door softly behind them. Her eyes held Carmen’s gaze, both of them intense, furious at the other for other reasons.

“You should be ashamed of yourself-”

“-I am-”

“-Mortified.” Sugar sneered, giving him a disgusted shake of her head. Carmen shifted, biting his own tongue to keep it from lashing out at her. “Do you know what I came home to the other night? You want me to tell you?-”

“-No, I know-”

“-No, I’m going to tell you.” Natalie snapped. “I came home after a very long shift because our head chef decided to, oh, I don’t know- disappear and go on a psychotic rampage apparently.” Natalie scoffed sarcastically.

“And I walk through the door, ready for bed. Maybe a glass of wine, maybe a bath, maybe to finally catch up on my shows with my husband; and you know what I found instead?” Sugar took a step towards Carmen, intimidating him with her harsh glare. “I find my husband taking care of your baby because your wife is sobbing-”

“-Don’t-”

“-No, no. I mean, sobbing. A total broken mess on my kitchen table, because she said you,” Sugar jabbed a finger at Carmen. “Decided to come home and scream at her. Not only scream, but say some of the most volatile, disgusting things I’ve ever fucking heard in my life to your wife, the mother of your very much so still a newborn baby.”

Carmen felt the familiar wave of nausea wash over him, swallowing back spit that pooled in his mouth with a cry that threatened to fall from his chest. He couldn’t bring himself to speak, to look at her gaze anymore. It felt too judgemental, left him feeling too vulnerable and sick of himself under it.

“So let me ask first; What the fuck is the matter with you?” Natalie sneered.

“I don’t know.” Carmen’s voice was tight, jaw tighter, fighting a tremble that was threatening to break. “I-I don’t… I don’t fuckin’ know. I-I didn’t- I didn’t mean it-” A single tear fell, slipping out of the corner of his eyes, sliding down his cheek- the final crack in his demeanor.

Carmen tried to fight it, deep breaths that burned his lungs and nose to control the tears, keep him from breaking here on his sister’s porch, but they wouldn’t stop. Carmen wasn’t sure how he had any tears left, after crying for days on end, how he hadn’t shriveled up his tear ducts. Yet here he was, broken sobs slipping out again.

Sugar didn’t move. Arms still crossed over her chest, lips still fixed in a hard line, watching Carmen with intensity as he broke down, tears flowing in front of her. She didn’t comfort him, not that he expected her to. She didn’t try to give him words of encouragement, advice on how to right the wrongs like the others did. Instead, she kept a furious gaze on him, unmoved by the tears.

“Please,” Carmen sniffed hard, running the back of his hand over his nose. “Please, Sugar, please. Ju-Just let me see Teddy. Let me se-ee her. Don’t-Don’t do this to me. Don’t ke-ep my kid away from me-”

“-Me?” Sugar scoffed, pushing her hand into her chest. “Oh, no. No, no, no, no. Don’t you even start that shit, Carm. I’m not keeping your kid away from you, let’s make that clear.”

Carmen’s breath hitched when she stepped towards him, toe to toe with him, teeth bared in a grit of anger. “I didn’t take your kid away. You know who did? Hm? You.” Natalie snapped, Carmen flinched at the cruelty of her words. “You did this, Carmen. You did every last bit of this. This is on you. No one else but you.”

Carmen held in a cry that threatened to break out, face crumbling with tears. He rubbed his hand over his face, trying to soothe the burn and hide his distraught. “And you know something else? I know you don’t remember dad very well, but I do, ok? And lately, you’ve been acting just like him.” Sugar’s tone clipped, leaving a burning sting in Carmen’s chest at her words.

“Yelling just because shit didn’t go your way? Do you know part of the reason mom’s so fucked up? Why everyone takes her side all the time and babies her? Uncle Jimmy and Uncle Lee? It’s because dad used to berate her, scream at her so badly- say some of the worst shit in the world because he was stressed out, that those guys would feel bad for her.” Sugar ranted. “And I promise you- promise you if I told Uncle Jimmy right now what you said, how I found your wife, he’d agree with me. Maybe even worse.”

Carmen shifted, his heart squeezing in fear now. Jimmy loved you, always had. He held a special soft spot in his heart for you. Worse was probably right, and truthfully, Carmen would accept it- he deserved it. It wouldn’t be as bad as how he felt right now.

Natalie held Carmen’s gaze, letting her words sink in. She lifted his hand when he started to talk. “I don’t-I really don’t want to hear it, ok?” Natalie shook her head. “And before you start trying to come up with some excuse-”

“-I-I’m not-”

“- I want you to know something. To hear it and really listen to it.” Natalie paused, waiting until his eyes met hers to continue. “I know you’ve been through a lot- We’ve been through a lot. But that doesn’t mean you get to just treat people like shit. That you can act like this and it’s ok.”

“I know that.” Carmen’s jaw was tight, strangled words croaking out.

“Then act like it.” Natalie snapped. “It’s not easy, none of this is easy, Carm. I mean… Do you know that every day- every single day, I wake up and something happens that’s shitty or rough, and I think about how easy it would be just to grab a bottle of wine or two. Drink myself unconscious like mom does. Just how easy that would be, how nice it would be just to drown myself out instead of face the issues.”

“There’s days when MJ or Maggie or-or Pete just drive me fuckin’ nuts, and I want to pull my hair out, or scream, or Pete will do something that just pushes me right over the edge and I just want to rage.” Natalie continued, arms waving dramatically. “I want to throw in the towel, take the easy way out, rage, drink myself silly, scream at all of them until I feel better, but you know what? You know what I don’t do? I don’t do that.”

Natalie crossed her arms, taking a breath to steady herself. “I don’t do that to them because I know how that feels.” Her voice cracked, just barely, enough to show the emotion that was hiding underneath. “I know how that felt. I know how that made me feel.”

Carmen could feel his eyes brimming with tears again, too emotional to be embarrassed. Donna’s many red faced, slurred screaming tyrades came back to his mind. How he’d hide, try and stay quiet and invisible to avoid them. Even as he got older.

“I know how that fucked me up. How it fucked them up. How it fucked you up, an-and Mikey up. I mean- how it…it fucked our whole life up!” Sugar laughed humorlessly, throwing her hands up in mock defeat. “I just… When I think about that, and about how it just ruined all of us. That’s the last thing, the very last thing, I’d ever want to do to my kids, to Pete, t-to anyone, really.”

Carmen nodded, too overwhelmed with emotions to speak. His throat burned, scratchy and sore from screaming and crying. His chest was tight, constricting his lungs, stealing his breath. He was on the verge of an anxiety attack, maybe something worse, yet, he felt eerily calm in the moment. Still even under the shame and hurt her words brought. He sat on the porch, sure his knees would give out soon, head spinning and dizzy with this damning realization.

“You need to make up your mind. Make a decision, right here, right now.” Sugar continued behind him. Though he couldn’t see her, he knew her face was stoic to hide the hurt, hide the emotions. A classic Berzatto deflection trait. “You need to decide what you’re going to do to be better for your family. If you’re going to continue to be a selfish, piece of shit, or if you’re going to change; be better.”

Carmen’s shoulders shuddered with his next breath, deep but not intentional; like he didn’t even know he did it. Too dazed and deep in thought, staring blankly ahead. “I can tell you,” Sugar stepped towards the door. “It’s not comfortable. It’s not easy. It is so hard some days. You have to fight for it every day, fight to break shit that was drilled into you, fight to recognize that some things you do, you don’t even mean to. It takes a lot of work, but… I’d rather fight every single day to be better, to be kinder and softer and more understanding for my family, than to not have them at all.”

Carmen couldn’t stop thinking of you. How you were so naturally nurturing and sweet. You’d always been like that. You were loving and gentle freely. You’d always been so patient with him. It almost made him feel insecure, inferior, when he thought of it before, but now, he just wanted to return the favor.

“You decide what you want to do, and then maybe- maybe you’ll get to see them again.” Sugar turned the door knob, pushing it open. “But today? Not a chance. Go get yourself together before you try and do this again.” Carmen flinched at the door slamming behind her, harder than he thought it would. Still, he didn’t move from his spot on the porch, head in his hands, deep in thought about his future, his past, everything.

“There he is!” Fak’s voice was muffled through the car window, slowly pulling to a stop in Sugar and Pete’s driveway.

Carmen looked up slowly, taking a slow, grounding exhale in, just as Richie and Fak climbed out of the car. “Cousin, thank fuckin’- You better be glad he’s here.” Richie glared at Fak.

“I am!” Fak chirped defensively.

Carmen stood slowly, turning one last time to look at the front door. He couldn’t see through the small privacy glass on the door, but he swore he could hear you- hear your voice. Soft and hushed, a little cautious mixing with Sugar’s reassuring one. It took everything in him not to turn and bust the door down, run inside and throw himself at your feet, begging for forgiveness.

He knew that time would come.

Instead, he walked to the car, sliding in the backseat, ignoring the confused looks Richie and Fak gave each other. “So, uh, did you-”

“-Don’t ask that.” Richie cut off Fak with a bark of annoyance. “What’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing! I just- I thought we all wanted to know-”

“-Hey, Cousin,” Carmen muttered, staring blankly at the house. Richie hummed, turning to Carmen carefully. “What’s, uh… You-You said you had someone for me to talk to?”

“Yeah,” Richie nodded slowly. “The therapist?”

Carmen paused, swallowing slowly. “You…You think she’d see me now?”

“Right now?” Richie lifted a brow. Carmen nodded slowly, still looking past him, eyes glued on the house. He swore he could see a figure move- your figure, peeking through the blinds before ducking back into the shadows. “Yeah, I’m sure she will. I can… I can call her. See what I can do.”

“Thanks.” Carmen twisted his wedding band gently, the car jolting gently as Fak started to back out.

Fak turned around, looking from the back window to Carmen with a hesitant grimace. “You ok?” He asked, his voice dropped to a low hush with Richie on the phone beside him.

“No,” Carmen admitted, shoulders slumping in defeat. “No, I-I’m not, but… I wanna be.” Carmen looked at Fak, eyes glassy with emotion. “I gotta get my shit together. Gotta do better f-for my family.”

Fak nodded slowly, pulling out onto the road, slowly shifting the gears back into place. The car began to roll, Carmen watching Sugar and Pete’s house disappear in the rearview. His heart tore, ripped right down the middle and split at the seams knowing he was leaving you, Teddy- his family behind. It took everything, every ounce of strength not to turn around, not to run back. It hurt, but he realized, this is what Sugar was talking about.

So, Carmen went to the other side of town, to the small building where Richie’s therapist was. His counselor he’d started seeing a while back, when he was on his purpose journey.

It was weird, weirder than Al-Anon. Carmen felt entirely too vulnerable sitting in that chair, having her stare at him and only him, nodding as he told his ‘story’- it felt weird to call it that. He didn’t want it to be his story, his defining qualities. No, Carmen wanted a new story, a better one with you and Teddy and his family. He’d told Dr. Mullins that.

“I think that’s a great start, Carmen.” She nodded, giving him a soft smile. “So, tell me how you’d do that.”

Carmen scoffed lightly, looking down at his hands. “I, uh, I don’t really know.” He admitted. “Kinda thought that’s what you were for.”

“You’re right. I’m here to help you reach that goal, maintain it.” She nodded. “But in order to do that, I need to know a little more.”

“Like what?” Carmen muttered. “I don’t really remember my dad and all the bad shi-stuff he’d do.”

“You said you didn’t want that to define you, so let’s not talk about that.” She shook her head softly. “Let’s focus on what you want. What kind of life you’d want to live with your family.”

Carmen’s knee bounced, taking a shaky breath. “I… I don’t want to lose control.” He admitted. “I don’t want t-to scream, and say shit I don’t mean, and-and to take it out on people who don’t deserve it.” He looked up at her. “I don’t want to do that again.”

“Good.” Dr. Mullins nodded slowly. “Let’s start there.”

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