#good news: got up to my alarm for the first time all week. bad news: bones hurty :[ gonna write some whump later so have this plotty piece

[carmenized-onions]

Loosen Your Grip. | R & D

logline; even when it seems counter-intuitive.

[!!!] series history; so many parts, so many words.

Spotify Playlist, if you like to listen while you read. I listen to it when I write :) Constantly gettin’ added to. 8 hour mark officially! Lets go!

portion; 15k knowing the next chapters, this trend isn't going to change. they have started to line up with the chapter number, to my chagrin.

possible allergies; i think this one is relatively harmless? Stress though. Everyone's stressed. Idk what to tell you man, it's the bear. oh but more things were yoinked from Season 3!! Think that's just gonna be ongoing tbh. also if this is bad don't tell me. tell me it's really good, actually. i've never doubted a chapter more than I do this one.

pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader it's so fem. it's so she/her'd it's so girl'd i'm so sorry

kofi; if you’ve enjoyed the series, perhaps you wanna tip!

i'm so sorry for the delays beloveds, can you say 'most high stress but high reward month and a half of my life'? i can!!!

The Monday morning after New York— The first morning waking up in your own bed in a day or two— Comes rudely. Well, not immediately. First you have to roll over and grab aimlessly at your nightstand, searching for your phone to turn off your alarm. Through blurred vision you slide it to snooze, and as you debate going back to bed, your eyes glaze over some texts you’ve received in your sleep, from numbers you never bothered to put in your contacts. It takes a minute to absorb the information and register it as real, but once you do—

“...Are you fucking kidding me?!” 

—You’re definitely not gonna be heading back to bed anymore. You’re wide-eyed and wired— You can probably skip coffee this morning. Maybe every morning forever.

“Oh— I fucking hate this fucking city, I fucking hate Chicago— Fuck this!” 

In lieu of coming to terms with your world shattering news, perhaps this is an important moment to express gratitude, for the things that have gone well in the past few days. 

The rest of the weekend in New York was as lovely as a last-minute trip in a cramped car full of kitchen equipment and four neurotics can be.

Gratitude. Highlight reel?

There’s a bag M and Ms monogrammed with Syd’s, Richie’s, Carmy’s, and your faces in your pantry now. Eva shouldn’t be the only one allowed to have fun. Though snacking on all your cute little faces does make you feel like a slight monster.

Managed to get a good gift for Richie. Thank you Tiffanys. It was certainly an interesting moment when everyone tried to come up with lame excuses as to why they had to split up from the group to definitely totally not go get Christmas presents.

 Carmen’s knife guy wasn’t able to do engravings on such short notice, and you’re not the type to settle for less, especially not with Syd, so that’ll be a next year gift, it seems. You came up with a serviceable back-up while strolling through the MET— Which was a mostly fun field trip, it was very inspiring. You all could've done without Richie's pretentious prattling about postmodern absurdist dadaism. Mostly because you're pretty sure half of it was wrong; but still a good trip, all told.

Still lost on what to get Carmen… You’ve got a week, it’s fine. You’ve done more with less before. How do you subtly ask a guy, ‘hey, what the hell else do you like besides your job?’ You’ll figure it out. Figure it out like you figure out everything else, like you always do. Hopefully.

It's Monday. You've got a week. It's fine. Stop looking at your phone. This is such bad timing. This is awful fucking timing. You’ll figure it out. Stop looking at your phone, stop looking at the texts. Do the Connections, send it to Carmy, he already sent his, be normal… Just such bad timing—

At the very least if you can't bear to look away from the life ruining texts, just shut your phone off. You’ve got to stop ruminating or you’ll rot in bed forever. And you really have to get out on time, today. 

“God wants me to kill myself—” Gratitude. Express gratitude.

The drive back went ‘well’. Everyone had their licenses so the squad took shifts either driving or sitting on the uncomfortable console. Or, in your case specifically, sitting half on Carmen’s lap in shotgun on occasion despite the many complaints from Syd and Richie. You had a good excuse! Neither of you slept for the entire trip just to work on the cocktail and coffee menu. It was practically a sacrifice! It was just easier to sit up front together, okay!? You had to be close, you were scribbling ratios and drawings of glasses into a stolen notepad from the Holiday Inn with pencil crayons bought from FAO Schwarz—

Oh, hey, put that on the gratitude scoreboard, that was another thing that went well. Pretty cool to go to the oldest toy store in America. Might not have gotten the chef in your life anything yet, but the kids in your life are covered— You’re winning best Aunt for sure.

Oh, huge highlight— Didn’t say love you, like some idiot. Got away with that by the skin of your teeth, honestly. Hard to stare up at the Rockefeller Christmas Tree next to the guy and not blurt out something fucking stupid. Thank God for Syd, who stomped on your foot when you seemed a little too doe eyed.

With great pain and bemoaning, you finish expressing gratitude, which hasn’t helped much. You slam your phone screen down on your nightstand and roll out of bed. 

Today’s Monday. Today’s your first day at The Bear. Today that is the priority and there is nothing else to worry about.

You signed your contract last night. Talked to Syd for hours about it, planning next steps and goals and classes and budgets and a million other things. You’re both a little easily excitable, when it comes to lists and plans. Watching you sign yours gave her the ‘confidence’ to sign hers, if you can call it that. Not like you knew she needed the help, though.

“I love my life, I love my life, I love my life…” If you keep saying it while washing your face in the bathroom, it’ll become true, right? …Where’s Sara’s card again?

The Bear doesn’t run service on Mondays, so it’s a good day to do onboarding— Good day to do R and D. …What does one wear to R and D? Don’t need the serving uniform. Don’t need to dress up. Don’t need the jumpsuit… This is the first time you don’t need a uniform and that is bizarre.

You’ll wear your dad’s flannel, at least. Feels illegal to not wear the patch worked flannel. But besides that, you’re just a normal… restaurateur… part of the team…

Your hand hovers over where your necklace sits, in the small jewellery box on your vanity. “Mikey, if you want me to keep wearing it, make my ceiling cave in or some shit.”

You give it ten seconds and nothing falls. With a curt nod to no one, you pick up your book bag filled with loose tools and the menu filled notepad. Leave your bedroom, put your shoes on, grab your keys out of your clay dish tray on the way out.

It’s snowing.

That’s a lot of stuff falling, so to speak.

That’s basically a sign. That’s basically what you asked for.

You head back in, grab the necklace, hook it over your neck, and tuck it under your shirt. Baby steps. You head back out.

…And then soon after, head back in— Forgetting one of the most important things you need today. “The fucking glass, goddamn it!”

There’s a chance that today might be a little bit of an off day for you. No one’s gonna notice that, though.

“Mikey, why didn’t you tell me? You want me to look stupid on my start day, don't you? Fucker.”

You’re good. You’re you. You figure shit out. You’re compartmentalising perfectly and no one’s gonna be able to tell that you’re internally scrambling to figure out where you're gonna live once your lease gets terminated.

“ ‘Sup with you?” Okay, so Tina did immediately notice upon opening the back door for you. She tries to help you with the huge sheet of plexiglass you’re carrying, but you wave her off, stumbling further inside The Bear. Thankfully it’s a slow start to the morning, so the walk way is clear for your fumbled steps.

“I got it, T, just spot me—”

“Woahwoahwoah—” But alas, immediately Carmen is rushing over, making a big deal over nothing, “Fuck are you doin?” And grabs the thick sheet of glass from you. “Wait by your car next time, why do I gotta keep tellin’ you?”

“I am very capable—” You grunt, but you’re relieved when he takes the weight off you. You nod to the table in front of expo. “Put it on the island.”

“What’s it for?” Carmy asks but he follows direction without hesitation.

“Syd’s idea.” You walk with him, sidling up to Syd who’s already stationed up on the island with what looks like way too much paperwork for Chefs. You bump her shoulder as a greeting, she bumps you back. She lifts up the stack of papers and you pick up her deli container of Coke and ice, letting Carmen slide the glass onto the table.

“Unless it’s bad—” You correct, putting the cup down and digging through the tool bag on your shoulder for the right parts. “If you hate it, then it’s my idea.”

Syd snorts next to you, putting the papers back down on top of the glass. “Nice save.”

“What’s your idea, Chef?” Carmen taps his fingers against the glass, bemused.

You finally fish out two lock hinges from your bag, gesturing to them with a little flair like you’re Vanna White as Sydney explains. “For R and D. Thought since we’re like— Constantly changing shit and needing to review, it’d be like, useful to have a whiteboard— But those are huge and inconvenient for a restaurant— Duh— So—”

“Glass!” You come in with the assist as she rambles on. “On hinges— These one’s lock so you can have the glass sort of tilted up like an easel, or on the station— And then when you start service you can just flip it down off the counter for the night. Easy!”

“And—And—” Like a TV ad, Syd points out, “We can put paper under it and still be able to see— So it’ll make editing clearer— I-I think.”

Carmen always takes a nerve-wracking amount of time to think through other’s ideas, but once he nods, you both breathe easy. “Smart idea. Thank you, Chefs.”

You just smile, and this seems to bother Carm. Or at the very least, something is bothering him, as he frowns. “You got a second?”

Your brows furrow, for a moment, worried. You nod, putting your tools down. Glass can wait. “Always.”

Carmen comes around the counter, before he pulls you aside, Syd whispers over your shoulder, “Trouble in paradise.” Making you snort. When has it ever been paradise?

The two of you lean across from each other in the doorway of Carmen’s office, not quite in, not quite out. He looks worried, and his worrying is making you worry. He’s first to say something, concerned hand on your shoulder.

“Are you good?”

Fuck, he caught you too? “Hmm? Yeah, I’m good, do I not—”

You’re halfway through your response when he interrupts, he seems even more panicked by your words. His hand abandons your shoulder. “Right— Stupid, stupid fucking question— I just— Sorry—”

“Woah—” You grip both his shoulders, rubbing down his sleeves lightly. “Are you good, Carmy? You’re right, sweets. You caught me. I’m a lil’ off today. What gave me away?”

“Right, yes— You’re nice.” He’s saying it more to himself than you, like he needs to remind himself. Even so, it still hitches your heartbeat. “I— I’m good, I was just—You didn’t text me back this morning.”

“Oh.” You say it so breathlessly, with relief. It’s cute that that’s what’s got him freaking. “Sorry, yeah, I’ve been trying to not look at my phone, I just got some…” You shake your hand in the air for effect. “Bleh news. Put a wrench in some things for me, that’s all.”

“Yeah? What’s up?”

“Ah—” You shake your head, waving it off, “Too much to get into. Later, though?”

“Yeah, yeah. Whenever you want.” He nods. “Ah, I wanna get into uhm—” Carmen snaps his fingers a few times, finding the words. “Get into drinks, today. I made all the concentrates and syrups ahead of time—But Uncles gonna come in first with The Computer to go over some numbers shit— Should be here in thirty?”

You nod, squinting. “Is it like… A special computer or something?”

“Computer is a guy.” Carmen says, while Syd yells the same in tandem with him, “Why wouldn’t he be!?” Walking past you both as she carries produce out of the walk-in.

“Why wouldn’t he be?” You grin, reiterating. Your smile soon sobers though, as you finally notice a giant silver blob of machinery behind Carmen. “Baby, what the fuck is that?” 

You’re already walking past him, quickly winding up all over again. It’s a gorgeous espresso machine— “It’s an Ascaso.” Explains Carmen. “It’s the best.” And it’s sitting exactly where your beautiful beat up mistake of a heavily-stained coffee machine used to be. 

“Baby, baby, baby—” you’re looking above and below the station for your rusted companion, hushed and panicked. “Don’t tell me you threw away the old one—” 

“You want the old one?”

Richie’s timing is perfect, as he walks in from front of house, and even from just hearing the last sentence, “Fuckin’ told you, Carm.” He knows the context. He keeps walking— On a mission, seemingly.

“I’m grateful— I- I am.” You kneel down and shove some mixing bowls aside to see if it was tucked in the back of some shelf— It’s not here. She’s not here. “New is good— New is nice— I’ll learn how to use the new one— I will— But— I— I need the old one— You didn’t throw it away, did you?” 

When he stays silent, you turn and look up to Carmen from where you’re crouched on the ground, pleading. “Tell me you didn’t.”

“I— I—” The Chef is nearly sweating from this line of questioning alone. “It— It barely worked—”

“I know it didn’t! That’s the point!”

He blinks. You just seem to be saying all his trigger phrases, today, huh? “That’s the point?”

“I knew how she worked.” You push yourself back up onto your feet. “It’s got an espresso function that doesn’t work, if you tamp the basket the basket literally breaks off so you have to hold it and burn your hand a little— You have to hold the hot water button at the same time as the grind button for some reason or it won’t dispense— It’s literally a fucking nightmare— I covered it in like ten sticky notes of instructions at one point and they became pointless because no one but me was willing to use it. And— And I’ve got it memorized.”

“...And you want that?”

“No one’s gonna know how to take care of her, she’s my baby!” You gesture, albeit a bit too dramatically, speaking with your hands. “If you throw her away or donate her, no one’s gonna take the time to figure it out— They’re just gonna think she’s broken but she’s not, she works! She just needs the right hand!”

A dull silence falls between you, as Carmen purses his lips, squinting. There’s an ever slight chance your ‘I’m totally fine’ facade is cracking. “...Are you sure you don’t want to talk about your thing right—” 

“I’m good!” “...Okay.” “Did you get rid of her?”

“Relax, Handy!” Carmen does not say this. 

You grimace, looking behind Carmen to see Chi-Chi yelling from around the bend, in The Beef’s corner territory. Looking over him with the blue apron calling you your least favourite nickname by far— Well, second least favourite, only to— “She’s over here, Jack-Off. More our speed than rich boy’s ack - queso bullshit…” It’s nostalgic. Bad nostalgic but nostalgic. 

He slaps the top of the machine, you and Carmen both wince as a random spigot falls off it. Chi-Chi clicks his tongue, staring at it in silence. “...Refresher would be good, though.”

You’re already walking back to your damaged darling, patting Carmen on the shoulder as a form of goodbye, he pats your hand back. You don’t get to see him smile, as he watches you get to work. “Don’t fuckin’ call me Jack-Off and don’t touch her, I’ll show you, I’ll break your hand Cheech, I swear—”

The man in question shrugs, a devilish and terrible smirk on his stupid face. “Ey, love a woman in charge. Show me the ways.” 

Even on your most off days, working with The Beef will always be second nature for you. Even when the space is significantly more cramped than it used to be. 

You rewrite directions on how to use the coffee machine while showing them to Ebra and Chi-Chi. Ebra tends not to learn new tricks, so he stops listening by the time you get to syrups. That’s fine. No one ordered syrups in their coffee at The Beef back in the day all that often either.

Mikey really shouldn’t have invested in all those syrups back then. He really only did it for you and the staff. To be fair, when he did convince regulars to try your coffee they always changed their tune. The people don’t know what they like yet. They will like this. You were his proof that that idea was true.

“You gotta toss these, Boss. Slows you down.” You overhear Cheech saying behind you. You turn to see his arm on Ebra’s shoulder, holding the small blue baskets for sandwiches in his other hand. “Just the wrapping is fine. These people are gonna throw this shit out anyways, waste of plastic.”

Cheech turns his head to you, “Right, Handy?”

“...Don’t call me Handy.” Don’t freak out about throwing the old stuff away. Don’t freak out about throwing his old stuff away. You shrug, looking at Ebra over your shoulder. “Maybe just offer them, if they ask for one?”

“Y’know what the people are asking for, babe?” Cheech sucks his teeth, pulling Ebra closer, who looks nonplussed. “They’re asking where the nearest brick is to throw through our window. This rich people shit is getting on their nerves.”

You sigh, eyes flitting to Ebra for confirmation. “Yeah?”

He shrugs, nodding. “Ninety-eight percent, Jack-Off.” Cheech and the gang have been a terrible influence. How are you going to undo this?

“C’mon, E…” You scoff, but nod as you turn around, arms crossed. Gesturing with the frother as you do. “Well, I’ll make note of that. Now back to the fuckin’ hand frother, Cheech?”

“I know how to crank it, Handy—” “I swear to fucking God—”

“Ey!” Tina comes up to your corner, smacking the back of Chi-Chi’s head with a hand towel when she does. “Don’t talk to the baby like that, clean your mouth.”

He puts one hand on the back of his head, hissing, and another up in front of him, in defense. “Ey, T, it’s all love, aright? Playing!”

“Yeah well, you’re not gonna wanna play wit’ this one. ‘Specially not now—” She nudges you, smiling that coy ‘I’m about to blow up your spot’ smile.

You grimace, attempting to interrupt her. “T, don’t—” “That she’s Jeff’s.” “—Goddamnit.”

“Oh! Oh shit!” Cheech laughs, delightfully shocked. “You finally closed on Charmin’? Congrats—” It’s a blessing and a curse that Carmen, the guy you only ever saw in photos and heard in stories that you had a very minor and not vocal crush on, is now your… boyfriend? Undetermined.

You wave a hand in his face, “Shut the fuck up—”

“So where should I send flowers?”

You hate this family. “For the record, I have not closed shit.”

“What’s closing?” Tina takes a half step back, surveying your face, it doesn’t reveal anything. “What’s that? Gramps?” She turns her question on Ebra, who shrugs, equally as old and unknowing. 

“Well Jack-Off’s a little Mother Mary for my taste—”

You scoff, “So not true, for the record—” but Chi-Chi continues his tirade. “So I suspect she just means they haven't had the ‘are we datey-wating carmy baby?’ talk.”

You all but growl, crossing your arms as you wait for the second tutorial coffee to finish dispensing from the beloved whirring machine behind you. You can get the fuck out of here as soon as it’s done, and you’re praying that’s soon, because this interrogation is about to turn terrible. “We are currently unlabelled, if that’s what you’re trying to say.”

Tina kisses her teeth, poking at your shoulder. “Richie told me you spent the whole wedding together and you come back with no label?”

You sigh, composure falling apart. You are not ready for a mother’s disappointment. “We talked out a lot of important stuff—” “Mija, that is important stuff!”

“I just— We’ll talk eventually—” 

Chi-Chi conveniently interrupts you when it looks like Tina’s about to go off into a full rant on the downfall of romance in modern relationships. “So you’re still on the market, Handy?”

“For you?” You smile, then drop it. Pushing your hand against his forehead. “Never. Now froth the fucking milk.”

He mumbles an endless series of expletives, but gets to work. You give him a quick tutorial on the hand frother— You fought hard for the old machine, but you are overjoyed to see an automated steamer and frother on that Ascaso. That part is gonna be a dream. You can make so many new drinks for Carm— The menu. 

When you finish, you take the latte from Cheech to hand to Tina; and when you do, you catch her looking… off. She’s staring at the piled up diner baskets, next to the unused napkin dispensers. 

You put your hand on her shoulder, massaging it lightly. “You good, T?”

Your hand shocks her back into reality, “Yeah, yeah, I’m good, baby.” It takes her a second to remember where she is. She takes the latte, nodding. “I’m good. You good?”

“I’ve got my complaints.” You shrug. “But nothing I won’t survive.” Probably.

Tina takes a sip of her coffee, continuing to nod. She wants to dig deeper into your thing, you want to dig deeper into hers, but the painful groaning from the front of the kitchen, “And when did I fuckin’ greenlight this?” interrupts both your trains of thought. Uncle Jimmy tends to have that effect.

With a knowing nod, you walk together to the front, leaving Ebra and Cheech to continue experimenting with the coffee machine before they open their side of the restaurant. 

You watch from the sidelines as Carmen defends his choices, “The old one was shit, she was burning her hands on it. She’ll need the three groups to keep up.” and you’re able to quickly glean they’re talking about the new espresso machine.

“Okay, I hear that,” Jimmy nods, “but why the fuck did it need to be ten grand?”

“Ten?!” You can’t help but shout, you slap your hand over your mouth. Budget is none of your business. But fucking ten? You part your fingers to mumble through your hand,  “Sorry, continue.”

Carmen cares too much about your drink menu. Berzattos tend to invest too much into your special interests. Though this time, instead of syrups, and in addition to a 10k coffee machine, you see on the stainless steel table your shared sketches laid out alongside all the ingredients needed– Including the concentrates, whips, and other compounds Carmen made ahead of time for you. He’s so sweet. God, you love him. God, that’s disgusting. They have all, of course, been haphazardly shoved aside though, to make room for The Computer’s— Computer. Carmy’s nonplussed by that fact, it seems.

Jimmy gestures to you, deadpanning to Carm. “See, Chip understands the power of the dollar.”

“I’m not involved.” You add, waving your hand, it’s a terrible moment for your favouritism to shine through. Though you do enter the radius of this trainwreck of a quarterly review, kneeling down by the kitchen island to finish what you started with the plexiglass and hinges. “Ignore me, continue.”

The men stand on either side of you, as you bolt down the hinges. Carmen brushes off the dollar comment with a simple, “It’s the best.”

Why do you need the best? You think; Jimmy concurs with your brain, speaking for both of you. “Why do you need the best?”

The question seems to make no sense to Carmen. He freezes, blue-screening. “Cause—”

You duck your head under the counter at just the right moment— Or just the wrong moment? Because you don’t get to see Carmen looking down at you, then back up at his uncle. “Because.” 

You don’t see Uncle Jimmy practically roll not just his eyes but his entire body back into himself, witnessing the puppy love that is going to ruin his credit score. “Chip…”

When you slide yourself out from under the counter, Carmen puts his hand on the edge of the counter to make sure you don’t hit your head— Because you have an awful tendency to do so. You’re too focused on the way Uncle Jimmy says your name like you’re in trouble to notice though. “What’d I do?” 

“You’re you.” Jimmy grimaces, shaking his head. It’s not your fault. Not completely. “F-Y-I– Your boss just cut your bar budget by ten grand.”

“Hm.” You squint, lips in a line. “And what do I do if the budget I was planning was just ten grand?”

“Well respect yourself more than that.” Cicero scoffs, arms crossed. “Take twenty, now you’re back to ten. You’re welcome.”

“Generosity knows no bounds.” You shake your head, laughing him off as you duck your head back under the counter. “Thank you, Unc.”

“Sorry, who exactly are we giving twenty thousand?” 

“Oh fuck—” Despite Carmen’s best efforts, you still manage to bump your head on the roof of the counter, alarmed by the new voice— The Computer, you assume. “Fuckin—Ow— Sorry! Y’know what, hol’ on, let me just finish up here—”

“It’s the drink budget. Tony’s the new mixologist.” Natalie answers for you. “And sommelier.”

“Ah,” hums The Computer. “She’s the one we’re paying Quarter-Master for?”

“Nah, that’s me.” Gary strolls by, calling out to wherever his manager has gone, “Richie, you find that book yet?!”

“I’m taking them too!” You finally pop your head out from underneath the counter, finished bolting in the hinges. “Apparently I need actual W-S-E-T certification and a bunch of memorized google searches, youtube videos, and wine review blogs do not legally make you a sommelier.”

“I think it’s impressive you made it this far on basically nothing.” Syd taps the top of your head, she’s the one who made the call on schooling. She looks to her co-owner. “Classes are coming out of the advanced.”

“So is this.” You tap the plexiglass, nodding up to Carmen as well. “You’re workin’ with like… A thousand left for pre-paid work?”

“Hm.” Carmen nods, looking at The Computer, and you turn your head to him too. “Did you account for that?”

“Did I account for a thousand dollars?”

Carmen shakes his head like a white flag immediately, hearing the sarcastic tone, “Alright, you don’t—”

“A thousand dollars does not take you out of the hole, man.” He’s right, but you don’t love the tone. He tilts his head, reading something off his screen. “Payroll is a little high, for a somme.”

“I don’t disagree—” You try to say, because yeah, your contract does have a weirdly high salary.

But Jimmy, Nat, and Carm all speak over you. “It’s not.”

“That’s not pay for a somme, that’s a pay for Chip, you don’t need to enhance on that.” Jimmy deads the topic then and there. “You’ll see. Just trust me. You were sayin’ somethin about tiny plants?”

“Microgreens.” Says Syd. 

“Yes. Do less of that.”

And you just watch, from the sidelines, as this crew flows into a bit of a repetitive we’re doing this, which gains the response, well stop. Do less, charge more, figure it out, duh, don’t duh– What’s that you’re hearing about a daily changing menu? Carmen seems to be the only one campaigning for it. At a point he just starts pacing, pointing at numbers on The Computer’s screen that he doesn’t understand but pretends he does.

You’ve got a million ideas, but it’s none of your business. It very literally isn’t your business, until Jimmy turns his head just so, grimacing at the non stop debate, to see you standing aside, arms crossed.

He sighs, beckoning you to the table, like it’s a witness stand. “What’s that fuckin’ face on your face, kid?” Oh, for the love of God, why are you so easy to read?

You pfft, shrugging. “I’m not makin’ a face—!” But you come forward nonetheless as he boldly speaks over you. 

“You’re makin’ a face,” — “This is just what I look like,” — “Y’know how I know you’re makin’ a face?” — “Enlighten me.” — “Cause it’s the same fuckin’ face—”

He takes this moment to point at the face on your face. “That your dad makes.” A man that gambles as well as Cicero is a man that knows your dad’s tells. And a man that knows your dad’s tells is a man that knows your tells. 

You bite down on your inner cheek, poorly pretending to be confused, shrugging again, “I dunno what you’re talking about.”

“Come off it.” “I’m not on anything, Unc—” “You’ve got a problem, say it.” 

“I don’t have a problem!” You have a lot of problems, but they can’t know that. That makes you judgy and pushy— You don’t know enough about the business to have an opinion. “I’m just observing, that’s all.”

Uncle looks up, to Heaven, to Mikey, and sighs the world’s heaviest sigh. It sounds painful. When he finally tilts his head back down to you, it’s to say, “C-K.”

“Cicero.”

“Y’know why I’m able to pour mas queso into this fuckin’ kid?” He loosely gestures in the direction of Carmen, who in response seems to bite down a lot of venom. It’s bad to think he’s pretty when he’s annoyed, isn’t it?

You tilt your head, “Honestly, I always assumed some sort of mob association.”

Jimmy holds back his laughter, it comes out as a disgruntled cough. He shrugs. “It’s because when I saw your dad at the table, makin’” —He gestures to you— “That fuckin’ face, I knew to pull back.”

“You don’t need to pull back.” Your reply is a touch too panicked and instant for anyone’s liking, makes it a little less believable. But Cicero smirks, and you know that face as well as he knows yours. Check. He’s got you. 

“Then speak on it.” And he pushes you forward, just slightly, like a slap of support on your back. You grimace, looking to Carm and Syd for permission to have opinions, and they both nod, like it’s obvious. With great hesitation, lips pressed together, you finally allow yourself to come off as judgy, opinionated, a fixer. 

“I think the chargers are kinda stupid.”

A plate no one eats off of, that they still have to clean, that’s on top of another plate? Definitely super necessary. Definitely not some rich people NOMA bullshit.

You look to Syd, apologetic. She shrugs, open mouthed, head tilted, “I– I mean, I didn’t invent them.” 

“It’s presentation.” Carmen nods, to himself. He doesn’t like to budge. “That first look at the table affects everything.”

“Yes.” You nod, directly across the counter from him. “I agree, I just think the plates are stupid.” 

“You got somethin’ better?”

“Think so.” You hum, tilting your body back to yell to the back of the restaurant. “Ay, Cheech! Pass me a fuckin’ basket!” 

It’s without hesitation that you hear, “Hut!” before even seeing the man. You see the blue basket being hurled towards you before you see the man. You catch it, albeit a bit clumsy, but you catch it. 

You toss the basket on the table. Everyone stares. You defend yourself before anyone even criticizes it, “Easier to clean than plates, because you just need to rinse the plastic. Ties together a colour scheme, costs nothing, they’re gonna be tossed anyways.”

“It looks cheap.” Carmen tuts, but he really does seem to be trying to hear out the idea, despite his reservations. 

“It looks purposeful.” You double down, leaning on the counter just so, “It carries a story, that we didn’t forget where we started.”

“Ooh.” Marcus, clocking in just in time, hums behind you. “Kind of a bar, Chef.”

“Thank you, Chef. Morning, Chef.” You fist bump him over your shoulder, not looking. Too focused on convincing the man before you, you let him think in silence for some time before asking. “Think on it?”

“No.” Carmen shakes his head, and you’re a little crestfallen, for a second. “It’s good. Let’s do the baskets, yeah—” He then remembers to ask for permission, he turns his head to Syd, “Yeah?”

“Yeah? Oh, uh. Yeah. Yeah. Baskets are good.” Syd nods to Nat. “Can you look into, uh—”

“Returning the expensive as fuck earthenware shit? Happily.” Nat is far too cheery upon receiving a paperwork rabbit hole of a mission. She brushes past you, excitedly whispering, “Please keep going.”

“Oh, uh—” Are you some sort of thought leader now? “Well, uhm, I think I heard you sayin’” —You snap your fingers at The Computer, “That R and D cost is a little high?”

“A lot high.” He corrects.

“Kid with crayons.” Jimmy tuts, “Need to pull back a little.”

Carmen’s screwing and unscrewing the cap of a mason jar— Marmalade, it’s for Syd’s drink. He made it this morning, it’s labelled down to the minute.  Just let him work on his fucking drinks menu, please God. He’s been dying for this moment and it’s being thrown off by this bullshit. 

He can’t keep biting his tongue, “Hey, uh, why don’t you just tell us to do everything a little bit less so we can skip this and get back to work, huh?”

You hear Uncle Jimmy inhale as preparation to verbally beat Carmen’s ass. You put one hand up in front of the old man’s face, the other hand grabs a dry-erase marker. “He didn’t mean it like that and he apologizes, Unc.”

“Does he now?”

“He does.” You drop your hand, focusing on lifting the glass panel, clicking the locks in place to keep it up. You nod to Carmen through the pane. “Right, Carmy?”

Poor Carmen nearly deflates, “...I’m tryna be the guy.” 

“Not what the guy does, baby boy.” You hum, uncapping the marker with your teeth. You turn your head to Cicero. “Guy had a lapse, he forgot you were his boss and just thought of you as family, so he spoke to you like family, cause he loves you, Unc.”

Cicero nods, tilting his head just so at Carmen. “S’that right?”

Carm manages to shake his head and nod all at the same time, “S’a facet.” 

“....Well, just don’t do it again.” A crisis is averted and an uncle is softened. 

“I love to see a family come together.” You hum, nonchalant, writing on the glass, ‘R & D - Cost: Bad’

“Bring it from bad to good.” The Computer notes very helpfully. “You can cut—”

“Hol’ on.” You put your index finger up, effectively shushing him, “Just think about it first. We don’t have to go straight to cutting. Let’s look at our options.”

“Your options are fucked.”

“Just—” You tut, rubbing the bridge of your nose, man, you really are becoming your dad right now. Loosen your grip, Jack. “Widen the scope. We cut costs through returning those chargers— How else can we ‘return’ shit? Carmy?”

Thank God you’re the guy, because Carm can’t hack it. “Heard? Yes?” And frankly, he doesn’t want to.

“What’s the main cost on R and D?”

“Supplies. Food— Y’know, lot of trial and error.” He nods to a bus tub filled with failed attempts over this morning’s session. But you like that, right? “Trying new things, y’know?”

“...Carmen.” He doesn’t answer, because he can hear he’s in trouble. He is staring at you stare at the tub in what seems like a sort of contemplative, serene, searing anger. “Sweetheart, are those four wagyu filets in a fuckin’ bus tub?”

“Yes, it’s got a blood orange reduction, but– But Syd suggested mint—” 

You don’t let him finish, “Is it poison?”

“It’s not.” “It’s edible?” “It is.” “Okay, so then, babydoll, why is it not being eaten?”

Syd winces from the sidelines, hissing under her breath, fist over her mouth. Carmen cannot help but notice. You’re perhaps… a dash upset.

“We can’t eat everything.” “Did you offer it to the crew?” “Yeah—” “You offered it to Nat, Unc, Cheech— All the servers? Or did you just offer it to the cooks?” “...Heard.” “Did you take a bite of all of these?” “Not all.”

You start writing on the glass again, explaining as you do, “Okay. So then uneaten food from R and D should be sold on one of those fuckin’ food waste apps— Too Good to Go, or somethin’. We advertise it to The Beef regulars, try to get the other side of our city to understand the finer things, prevent any brick through window incidents, how we feel ‘bout that?”

You remember small things far too well. You did make note of the rich people shit getting on The Beef customers' nerves. You make note of the people who live on your block, who cannot afford to eat here. You make note of the fact that Carmen resents subtracting with a passion now, so you find another way. He can still try new things, just needs to handle the results better. 

“...You keep a binder or somethin?” Is all Carmen can think to ask. 

“Steel trap memory.” You tap the cap of the marker to your head, “Good though?”

He nods, “Good.”

“Good.” You take a breath, dragging a hand down your face, practically coming out of a fugue state. Carmen knows your need to have something to do, just as much as him, so he slides the jar of fig marmalade to you from across the table. You take it happily, unscrewing the lid. You’ve also been dying to get to this menu.

But Richie comes up from behind, scratch and sniff wine book in hand— Didn’t Mikey get you that? It  was meant to be a gag gift but it’s actually quite useful. “Chip, can you also tell Chef Carmen the daily menu fuckin’ sucks?”

“Re-lax.” You sigh, pulling over all the ingredients and tools you need for Syd’s drink. “Syd told me ‘bout this though, daily pre fixe, or whatever it’s called?”

“It’s—” Carmen crosses his arms over himself, immediately defensive but trying his best not to be. “It’s an idea I’m floating, for now— It’s what the best restaurants do, and— And even if we don’t have full intent on getting a star, right now, it’s still important.”

“I just think…” You hum, trying to figure out the most delicate way to say it. “It doesn’t exactly give you the most room to collaborate or create—”

“The whole point of it is to collaborate and create—”

“Oh yes,” —As if waiting in the wings for this, Richie pops out behind you again, “What wasssit? ‘Vibrant Collaboration’ and ‘Constantly Evolve Through Eating My Own Head like a fucking ouroboros’.”

“Relax.” You hiss this time, putting a hand up in front of Richie. You can speak for yourself. “You don’t have time to be creative or collaborate when you’ve gotta make decisions in less than twelve hours.”

Carmen tries to defend, he gestures to the one good plate of wagyu with mint that came out of this morning, “But the—”

You nod and hum, knowingly. The sweet sound stops him. You already know the answer, but you ask anyway, as you scoop fig marmalade into your cocktail shaker. “Did you get to try the pop rocks thing yet?”

“Well, no, it’s not viable to perfect that in such—”

“A short amount of time, angel?”

“Oooh…” Richie mimics Syd’s movements, air whistling between his teeth as he takes a sharp breath. He gestures, standing behind you, staring at Carmen as he slides his thumb across his neck. He mouths, ‘Mad mad.’

Carmen’s two closest friends are freaking him the fuck out and one of them wasn’t even doing it on purpose. How do they know that? How can they tell that? Are you gonna break up with him? Are you even dating? This work together thing was a terrible idea—

“You don’t have time to be thoughtful about things, if you do an entire menu every day, you’re gonna have to cut corners on what you’re willing to experiment with.” You reword, more productive, better for his brain. “Plus, prix fixe is a fuckin— In—In my opinion, is sort of a lacking idea, maybe, for a new restaurant.”

Carmen’s willing to give up the daily rotation, he’s not so willing to give up the pre fixe. “It’s what the best restaurants do.” Carmen loves the word best, huh?

“Have those restaurants—” You bite your tongue from what was going to be an immediate catty response.

You try again, measuring out orange liqueur and lemon juice as you do so. “You’re thinking like a Chef and you need to think like a customer— A- A guest, for a second.”

Carmen gives you the floor, mostly because he cannot compute the command. You continue, “Let’s do a little roleplay, alright? Let’s say we’re just average people, not workin’ at The Bear, and we’re goin’ on a date.”

“When?” “...When?” “When is the date?” “No, I’m— It’s— This is hypothetical.” “Yeah but in the hypothetical.”

You shrug, clicking tongs together as you grab large chunks of ice for your shaker. “I dunno, Friday nights? We have like a Friday night date night.”

“Oh, so you’re doing good.” Richie hums, proud of this hypothetical you, “Weekly date night is a cornerstone.” 

“Moving on.” You elbow Rich behind you, shaker sloshing in hand, “I’m not a foodie, you are— In this hypothetical. You’re looking around at restaurants in the area for the date, you find The Bear— You find through their website with an improper hyperlink that the menu is,” —You list off on your free hand— “prix fixe, unavailable online, and changes daily so you can’t go off of reviews either. Also, it’s a new place, so you can’t really ask around for opinions.” 

“Right.” Carmen nods, as does Syd. Uncle Jimmy’s got that stupid smirk he gets when he sees his kids fall in line. You pour the ouzo over the ice, focus on the drink, not Carm’s mopey expression. 

“So, we probably wouldn’t go, right?”

Carmen keeps nodding, eyes downcast— Not upset, just can’t take feedback without keeping his head down. “Prob’ly not, yeah.” 

You pound the shaker shut, shaking it lightly in one hand as you try as hard as you can to sweetly explain. “People are open to like, two surprises on an outing. New place, new food— But they will need a set menu and they will need to have it available beforehand— And they’ll need to be able to choose.”

He looks like a cat in the rain, so you add, “But. Maybe we can do a daily special? Or weekly, depending on burnout, but like, y’know, a semi-frequent one new thing. And maybe on like, Valentines or some holidays we do a fresh prix fixe. That’s how some of the best places do it.”

Carmen’s eyes upturn, smiling with them, at that last part. “You do keep a binder.”

“Syd does. I just pay attention.” You shake your head. “She mumbled about it all night when we got back.” 

Adamu is immediately aghast, she should’ve realized ages ago, you were practically quoting her. “You said you couldn’t hear me!”

“No, I said you weren’t bothering me, and you weren’t.” You can’t hide your smile as you break the seal on the shaker. Syd sucks at sharing her ideas, but you’re happy to act as a good mouth for her good brain. “Hand me a lowball.” 

With a grumble, Syd walks off in search of  the lowball; while everyone does seem to agree this is best practice, Carmen does still seem a little sore about it.

“It’d probably also serve us well to do a seasonally rotating menu, right?” And so you throw him a bone. “Like Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall? Base it on what’s in season with local vendors?”

“What grows together goes together.” Tina says, nearly sing-songy. “Farmer’s market is rough though, Jeff.” 

“Fuck a farmer’s market— With love, fuck a farmer’s market.” Back to writing on plexiglass you go. “We gotta do vendors, maybe f’ like, eggs and dairy we can do farmer’s market, but it’s just not feasible. Maybe for holiday pre fixe or daily specials? But full stock, it’s just not— It’s not it. And I say that while having farm fresh eggs and local honey in my pantry, alright?”

Carmen agrees, like a bobble-head this guy. He nods to Tina. “That cool with you, T?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s cool with me.” Tina is a millisecond off to pipe in, which is really not noticeable– To anyone but you, that is.

“Why’s— Why would T not be good with that?”

“She’s in charge of farmer’s market.” 

“Hm.” You bite the end of the dry-erase marker. “T, would you be cool with rotating that, now and again?”

“Ooh?” She tilts her head, shrugging, “Yeah, yeah, kid. If you wanna take the reins.”

“Not me.” You return to scribbling on the glass board. You point at Carmen and Syd through the glass. “Them.” 

“I’ve paid my sous chef dues.” Says Syd, returning to the table with your glass. You tut, shaking your head. You refocus your vision from your writing to beyond the plexiglass, at them. 

“You need it for inspiration! You fuckers keep forgetting you like cooking, I need you to visit the farmer’s market once in a while to remind you.” You take the lowball glass and tong a few ice cubes in. “Non-negotiable. Heard?”

A soft, simultaneous, “Heard, Chef.” from your cats. 

“Good.” You strain the mixed concoction out of the shaker, into the lowball glass. It’s a very pretty peachy pink. You tweezer a slice of dried fig and place it on top. You grab a toothpick, stick it down the glass, pull it out, and taste the toothpick. Balanced, solid flavour, should be good.

You slide the drink over to Syd. “I can’t drink everything obviously, so first dibs goes to whoever the drink is based on— I don’t care who drinks it, just let me know if it goes down smooth.”

You also in turn hand Syd the recipe card and sketch, and you’re quick to move on as she reviews and sips away.

Ouzo. Dry anise tasting spirit. It’s got a licorice aftertaste, but oddly sweeter for it. It’s strong. Resilient. It’s made from remnants of unfermented wine grapes and a mix of other distilled and unused spirits. Better than the sum of its parts. It goes well with figs. Muddle it together with fig marmalade— Sweet yet earthy, spring-like. Orange liqueur to marry the flavours, lemon juice to brighten. Shaken, pour over ice into a lowball, serve with a dried fig on top.

Syd manages to reserve her reaction to a slow but repetitive nod, like entering deep space. She only comes back to reality when Richie reaches for the drink, wanting to try. She’s quick to pull it away from him, coveting the glass. 

“Ah… what else? Rapid fire.” You knock your head around, remembering what The Computer talked about, and in quick succession, you line up every problem and talk through them, possibly solve them— As best as a newbie can. At the very least, you open the floor to actual discussions as you make drinks all the while. 

“Opening a full sixth day I think will shoot us in the long run, especially if we ever get a kitchen plague going. Maybe we just open for half the day on Mondays going forward, try out breakfast? Stop booing me, I’m right.”

Richie’s. Also served over ice in a lowball. It’s similar to a whiskey smash. Nixing the mint. Whiskey bourbon— A good one, but not too good that it’s a sin to mix. Something with a cinnamon spice, that's warm all the way down, but never burns. Water it down a bit by stirring peach juice over the whiskey with ice for a brief moment. Float blueberry syrup on top. Add a toothpick, spearing two blueberries and one peach halve, balance it over the glass, for stirring. So the drinker can mix the blueberry syrup in and have a cute colour changing experience. 

“Wine pours, me and Gary got that. We can also just start charging by the bottle by default— Whatever works.” 

Marcus’. Simple but effective. A rum and coke ice cream float. Made complex by the fact that the ice cream is on a rotating schedule, based on whatever Chef Brooks is feeling that night and what’s in stock. Right now? Pistachio. So tonight it’s actually rum and seltzer, and it will probably continue to be rum and seltzer, based on the way Marcus’ eyes light up by the opportunity to get weird. More often than not, you’re going to need that neutral base. Served in a milkshake glass, because what else?

“I don’t understand why I couldn’t just grow these microgreens myself in house. They’re just plants you murder early, are they not? Am I missing something?”

Tina’s. Varied take on a spiked agua fresca. Fresh blended mango agua fresca— With ginger, of course. A healthy kick is a necessity for a mom drink. Sweetened with simple syrup, spiked with white rum, dash of agave bitters, top with coconut water. Served in a tall glass, because why would you skimp on portions?

“Why are we shipping flowers from New York? No, fuck that, go to Violet’s Violets— I fixed her cooler once, she falls in love and gives a discount to literally anyone who’s nice to her. Just send Marcus with some dessert and you’ll be set for life.”

And of course, Carmen’s aperol spritz. You go with the cherry syrup rim for now because it’s important to try. You’re almost certain it’s too much though.

“Napkins…” You rub your icy cold hands— From shaking up so many goddamn drinks— Over your eyes. “Why are we renting?”

“Buying is insanely overpriced.” Answers Computer. 

You nod, shrug, but nod, fingers tapping the glass, “Well, it’s like renting over owning right? It might be better to own because, y’know, you might suddenly get told by your napkin vendor, like, like years down the line, after basically paying for these napkins in full through rent, ‘hey, actually, we’re gonna jack up prices or just take those napkins back’ even though you’ve —again— Literally had them for years—”

“Chippy, are you good?” Richie tries to massage your shoulder, tries to break you out of the doom spiral, but admittedly, it was never his forte. Still isn’t. 

“We—!” Your voice hangs and is grating in a way it usually isn’t, ignoring the question. “We can produce our own napkins if we buy linens by the yard and hem ‘em ourselves. We—” You snap your fingers a couple times at Carmen, praying he backs you up. “We can even get The Bear monogrammed on them.”

“That sounds nice…” It’s Carmen’s turn to ease you off the ledge of insanity, gently. “It also sounds expensive, were you gonna do that?”

“Fuck no.” You’re quick to shake your head. “I fucking suck at sewing, my own jumpsuit is covered in my blood— No, my—” Oh. “Hold on.”

Your hand immediately goes for your back pocket, quickly pulling your cell-phone out, and dial one of your first starred contacts. Richie, over your shoulder still, sipping his blueberry and bourbon cocktail, excitedly mumbles. “Oh, put it on speaker.”

You’re annoyed before he’s even answered, knowing the headache you’re about to get. “Trust me, the first thirty seconds minimum will not need—”

“Hey!” It’s impossible to convey how earth shatteringly loud and drawn out his voice is, immediately upon answering. There may be eight seconds of the sustained vowel? Maybe more. Almost everyone flinches, par for Syd, Carm, and Rich. Though for all different reasons. 

A touch grating, in the same way your voice just was. Like father, like occasional daughter, you suppose. “Hey kiddo baby darling sweetheart angel princess—” Oh, he’s mad. The whole ‘slew of nicknames when you’re pissed off’ thing? Yeah, that didn’t start with you. “Did someone die? Because that’s the only reason my darling baby only daughter calls anymore!”

You sigh, immediately exhausted, putting your weight on one leg. “Y’know, once a month is honestly a lot of times a year for a fully grown woman to call their dad, on average. I absolutely call you more than my friends call their dads.”

Richie almost chokes and whispers over your shoulder, hesitant, internally preparing for a dreadful future. “Please tell me that’s not true.”

“Oh, and you should be so lucky that you have a dad to call! Cause I bet those friends are calling funeral homes, aren’t they?!”

“Dad—”

“I should have never taught you independence. Worst mistake of my life to teach you how to be your own person. Richard, never teach your kid how to use a screwdriver, it will be the last day you are a father.”

“Noted, Big C-K.” Richie goes for your dry erase to actually write it down, you pull it away from him. That’s gonna require a long talk down later. 

Carmen mouths to you, across the table, he meant to ask earlier when Cicero said it but there wasn’t time. ‘C-K?’

You mouth back, gesturing to the logo on your very own flannel ‘Chicago’s Kindest.’ He’s not the best with acronyms. 

“Oh— And thank you for bringing that up! And what’s this I hear about you cutting your hours with C-K? I hear this from Tony of all people ‘fore I hear it from you?”

“I got a long-term bartender gig that’s actually gonna keep my bills paid, alright? And I like it. Putting that mixology double trade major to good use. Cicero’s got stock in the place, actually.”

“How you doin’ C-K?” Cicero pipes in next to you, waiting for his moment.

“Ah… I’ve got my complaints. For one, my Jack keeps you more company than me!”

There’s a series of hums and haws, that weird uncle secret language of heavy exhales that manage to say more than any actual words they could say. 

You let the heaving run its course for ten seconds before cutting it short with, “Anyways, I’m still gonna keep the business running, just only in the mornings. It’s not like I brought in that much business anyway, I’m not pulling a foundation.”

“Everytime a small business dies, a rich man laughs, Jack!” 

“It’s not dying! It’s alive! It’s present and alive!” Don’t get flashbacks. “Anyways, speaking of small businesses, I need a favour—”

“Ooh, the truth comes out, princess calls cause she needs bail—” 

“For the love of God, let me get through a sentence, Pops!” You grumble, continuing. “Remember that overpriced monogram machine you bought for no reason?”

“It was not for no reason, it was invaluable because it saved my mitts from hand embroidering all those logos— And and— you have to remember—” You mouth the words along with him, mimicking him, because you know exactly what he’s going to say, “that it all starts in your community— And now you have like eight beautiful outfits, cause of me… And also it’s fun.”

“Well… If it’s fun, would you consider making some linen napkins?”

And it flows like ping pong, because your dad is a repairman— Well, former, but still. He’s simple. He handles negotiations simple. So do you.

“For who?” “Restaurant. The Bear.” “Why?” “Cause they need linen napkins.” “How many?”

You look over your shoulder to Richie, he does the math in his head pretty quickly, “Bout seventy to a hundred covers a night.”

“Six hundred.” “Pay?” “We’ll pay supplies, and I’ll give you like—” You look to Syd, expectantly. She has no answer, so you put your advanced on the line. “A thousand?”

“A thousand!? Less than a dollar a napkin! Is this pre-housing crisis?!” “I work here, okay?! Discount me!” “My God, princess, are you in love with the owner or something?”

That world feels like it's choking, but that's probably just you. You blow hot air out of your mouth, looking anywhere but Carmen. Refusing to see him even in your periphery. Refusing to see his blue screened but ever so slightly expectant expression. Well? Are you? …Or something?

After a long moment, you find a way to avoid the question. “Ah–Uh, Syd co-owns the place.”

“Oh, Adamu?!” 

Syd pipes in, leaning over the table. You hold the phone out for her. “H–Hey, Mr. CK.” She waves, despite the fact that it’s a phone call.

“Hey kiddo. Aw, what a sweetheart. Lead with her next time!”

“Alright!” You bring the phone back to your face— It’s remained off speakerphone this entire time, but he continues to yell loud enough for the table. “I didn’t realize you were best friends.”

“Of course we are. Y’know she brought me this uh– this salmon mushroom risotto the other night? Unbelievable.”

You squint at Adamu curiously, whispering. “You bring my dad food?”

She whispers in return, defensive. “He lives on my block, don’t be weird.”

“For her, I’ll do it for eight-hundred, okay kiddo? I know how tough it is to start up a business, can’t imagine trying to move on top of that.”

Your turn to blue screen. Moving? You’re immediately over the love thing. “...Pardon?”

“...I’ll do it for eight—”

“No– Yes, sorry, yes dad that’s great—” You arch the phone away from your face, focusing your attention on Syd. “Syd, you’re moving out?”

She sighs, “Trying to.”

“Pops.” You straighten up, not looking away from her. “I’ll call you back to sort details later, okay?”

“Sure. You also need to let me know holiday plans, are we going up to Oak Park or—”

Somewhat disrespectfully, you speak hurriedly, “Yeah, we’ll figure it out, love you, bye!” and hang up. Still locked on Syd, you ask. “When you tryna move?”

“Like, soon as possible.” She stretches out her shoulders. “My own dad is sort of… Encroaching on my space.” 

“Right.” Your eyes flicker with too many ideas, and you’re trying to temper expectations. “You wanna live by yourself?”

“I mean, I don’t really know anyone on the same timeline as me, with the same ‘low budget’ as me.”

The Computer attempts to interrupt the interruption of his review, holding a finger up, “And why are we talking about—”

But you hold the palm of your hand up, continuing on, “I need to move out asap and have a ‘low budget’.”

That’s Carmen’s queue to chime in, he loves your place. “What happened?” 

Also Richie’s, “What? Chip, your spot’s like a historical site, ya can’t move.” and this is generally agreed upon by a sea of dismayed voices.

“To make an extremely long story short, I don’t have a choice.” You wave your hand in the air, silencing murmurs. “My sweet old lady landlord— The only landlord I’ve ever respected, got bought out by a fuckin’ big business gentrification ass company— I’m not in a rent controlled zone so they’re gonna keep jacking the rent until I move out so they can tear it down and build a new spot— They also may or may not have found out that me and Loretta— My landlord— Haven’t exactly been keeping up to date on my lease.”

“Meaning?” Carmen knows the answer will be bad. 

But it’s somehow worse. “Meaning I pay my rent on time in cash and she texts me once a year saying ‘do you want to keep living here?’ and I say ‘yes’, and we continue on.”

“Well, hold up—” Richie holds a hand up, like he’s a genius. “Squatter’s rights?”

“I thought about going that avenue, but—” You gesture to Syd. “If you’re already moving, and looking for a roommate?”

She looks up and around, thinking about it. You decide to join her in the brainstorm, scooching yourself just an inch to the right, writing on free space on the plexiglass screen, ‘pros and cons’

“Pro.” You murmur as you write. “I have a better credit score than you.”

Syd sputters, half sarcastic. “Well, that’s just uncalled for.”

“It’ll give you more options for places! Better ones! Ones with in-unit laundry!” You defend.

“In-unit laundry…” “Your eyes just lit up in such a sad way.” “Con. You are an ass.”

“That’s a pro. A real con would be that I have a lot of plants and if I ever go on vacation I’m gonna need you to take care of them, and I’m not gonna have a binder for you, because I water them based on vibes, and if I come back and they’re dying I’m gonna be pissed off and very passive aggressive about it.”

“Violently honest.” “Pro. Mostly direct. Aside from when I’m not.” “Con. I’m not direct.”

“Con. That’s fine but if I get the idea that you’re mad at me I’m gonna act really weird about it until you reassure me that everything is okay and you don’t want to throw me out the window.”

“Yeah. Con. Same.”

“Pro. I’ve lived by myself for a while, which is good to have when you’re moving out of your parents for the first time. Con. I’ve lived by myself for a while, and I’m very used to the lifestyle of big t-shirt no pants, I’m not giving that up.”

Now that one takes Syd a second to unpack, “But, but like, underwear though, right—?”

“No shit I wear underwear!”

“Okay! It’s important to note!”

“Don’t be weird.” Richie grumbles behind you, solidly directed at Carmen.

Who’s whole face really just scrunches up in confusion. “‘Don’t be weird’? You don’t be weird.”

“I’m not bein’ fuckin’ weird—” “Then why are you up in my shit—” “Up in your shit? Oh wow—” “Fully not what I was referencing—” “Don’t be weird, cousin!” “I literally— I did not even move— Not a single cell in my body—” “And— And you only know that ‘cause you had to lock it down, you dog—”

“I don’t remember having kids, why the fuck am I in a Kindergarden?” Uncle Jimmy interrupts.

“I’m just takin’ care of my boy, Unc.” Richie raises a hand in defense, feigning innocence. “Can’t be too careful.”

“You super can, and you super are.” You grimace, elbowing him again. “And also, not important–!”

“Actually, no, very important.” Syd of all people interrupts. “Non-negotiable, like you can’t— …Like you— …When I’m home it’s like— Don’t—” Ah.

You roll your eyes and save her before she just about breaks out in a feverish sweat. “Syd, I wasn’t planning on it. That’s like roommate rule one.”

“Syd.” Richie points to his own eyes, then to hers, ‘watching you’. “Don’t be weird.”

“What the fuck—”

“Everyone shut up, pros and cons—!” You shout, gaining the attention back. “Pros. I have a car, we work at the same place, I have all the furniture for a living room already,  you'd never have to wait for a landlord to fix something ever again, and I could probably do a bunch of D-I-Y renter friendly projects, if you wanted.”

“...Oh my god, a French-door pantry.” “I think I could swing that.” “Pros. You’ll never have to cook again. I guess that’s my only pro, actually.”

“Con. I have been feeding the cat on my fire escape for like a year and if I’m moving I am going to have to adopt her, so we’re gonna have a cat. She’s cute, she has five toes on each paw. Something dactyl, it’s called.”

“What’s her name?” Squid’s not excited per se, but she’s not saying no. 

You shrug. “I never named her, let’s name her together.”

“No, that’s too much pressure—” “No, you’ll do great—” “What do you mean I’ll do great—?” “Three–” “Oh like together together? No! What—?!” “Shut up, just do it, head empty, two—” “No! I’m just not gonna say any—” “Yes you will, Squid. One!”

And together, perfectly in sync, like it was planned all along, you both say on queue, “Calamari!”

“There we go.” You write ‘Calamari’ on the plexiglass. “That’s my girl— That’s our girl, actually. I’m still not sure if she’s a girl.”

You click your tongue against your teeth, knocking your head back and forth in thought as you look at the scribblings on the glass. “Non-negotiables?”

Syd leans forward on the table, chin propped up in her hands. “I need forty-five minutes of bathroom time at the beginning of the day.”

“...Do you have a fuckin’ lactose intolerance?” “It’s my me time!” “Alright! Fuckin’ fifty minutes of toilet time for Syd. Ah, I need east facing windows… and uhm…”

Syd stares at you, and alas, she can tell, “You have a big non-negotiable…”

“It’s not that big… It’s more a group thing than a roommate thing, really…” “What is it?” “I think… It would be fun… If we all started playing Dungeons and Drag—” 

There’s an immediate, staggeringly loud array of groans, you’re still writing it down nonetheless, all the while defending, “I honestly think a little roleplay and math would fix you assholes! I really think it would! I’ll D-M, I’ll make it so easy— Please?”

Syd grimaces, but inevitably nods. “Y’know what, you’re never gonna get a concrete schedule for that down, and no one else is gonna agree so yes, sure from me.” Still a win. 

“Okay.” You hum, capping the marker. “So… Aim to move first of February? You down?”

It takes some time, and you realize as Syd’s brain frozen, that you might be overstepping. “Sorry, that’s going too fast, you think on it—”

“...I’m down.” You make it very easy for her to say yes, by giving her the option to say no. “Yeah, let’s do it. February. I’m down.”

“I’m so happy for you two, but I’m still fuckin’ reeling— Chippy, it’s– it’s— So many memories—” Richie’s being overly dramatic on purpose, hand on your shoulder, really laying on the vocal fry in his voice; but it is true. “I mean, come on, first time I’d ever been stabbed was on your block.”

“Sorry, what?” Carmen was having fun watching his two favourite employees figure out they’d be perfect roommates. He loves to be a fly on walls around you more than he’d like to admit. Richie managed to ruin it with one line. “Stabbed on your block?”

“Yeah,” You suck the air between your teeth, trying to think of some sort of white lie, but slowly shake your head, “I— Yeah, there’s no real way for me to down play it, I was so fuckin’ scared.”

“You were tweaking!” Richie laughs, clapping his hand against your shoulder, to him it’s a charming story— You’d probably be laughing too, if Carmen didn’t seem so… unpleased, let’s say. “You fuckin’ thought I was gonna die!”

“You fucking were!” You slap Rich’s hand away. “It was so close to a cerebral artery— First and last time I’ll administer stitches in my fucking kitchen, hand to God—”

“What’s the story?” Oh, new face from Carmen you haven’t seen before, bewildered annoyance, you’d describe it as, it’s going in your bottom five. “You live in a bad neighbourhood?”

“It’s rustic—” You try, but Richie opts to speak on your behalf. “Oh, Chip lives in a terrible neighbourhood, Cousin. You’ve been there, haven’t you?”

“Yeah but it didn’t seem that bad— No— Hold on, go back, stabbed why?”

“So I heroically defended a boy from crooked—” Richie tries, but you opt to speak on his behalf. “Richie was helping me bring up groceries, we saw some highschoolers shaking a kid down, Richie tried to break it up, one of ‘em stabbed him with one of those shitty switchblade comb things.”

“You got stabbed by a kid?” Syd snorts, but immediately regrets it because she has perfectly set him up for—

“Yeah, and wouldn’t be the last time, would it?”

“Richie, c’mon…” You reach up, patting the guy’s shoulder. “It was an accident and she apologized—”

Richie just raises his eyebrows, interrupting with a simple, “Mm-mm.” 

And so yours raise in tow, “...Fuck you mean ‘mm-mm’?” And your head turns to Syd, alarmed. “Syd, you apologized, right?”

Her mouth just sort of hangs, sputtering noises do come out of it, but nothing that strings a sentence together. You grow more agog, repeating again, astonished, nearly laughing from the shock, “Syd?! You apologized, right?! And told him it was an accident, right?”

Syd takes a beat, but she gets there. “I— I. Am. Sorry I stabbed you by accident, Richie.”

“Hm.” Richie crosses his arms, considering, mostly sarcastically. “Yeah, I’ll take it, I guess. Would’ve liked a card.”

“I am not getting you a card.” “I’m jus’ sayin’ I’d’ve liked one.”

Carmen’s still five steps behind, “Are you gonna be fine living there? In January?”

You choke back a laugh, because this is how men try to show they care, one must imagine. “I’ve been fine for the past handful of years living there, I think I’ll be fine for another month, sweetheart.”

“Crime is bad in January.”

“I was a first responder, and I know that’s not true.” You shake your head, shirking off laughter. “It’s actually in the summer that you see shit go down. Again, I will be fine. But you are free to visit.”

“Point of order.” The Computer finally pipes up again— Might’ve forgot he was here, if you’re honest. “What are we talking about anymore?”

“Point of order— I feel like numbers— Talking numbers is great but it’s all just like— Paper, y’know?” You unlatch the plexiglass, gently settling it back down on the table. “We should be talking more.”

Tina nearly whistles in agreement, nodding by your side. “Heavy that, Jeff.”

“That’s what I’m sayin’, like—” You snap your fingers to the rest of the crew, hand moving to and fro to point at everyone, “Did y’all know until right now that Syd was moving? …No, right? Let’s like— Fuckin’ remember to check in, like y’know, family, Chefs.”

And without calling her out, you can feel Tina’s demeanor next to you change, relaxed. 

“Heard, Chef.” Is the agreement from the crew, however, The Computer nor Cicero seem convinced, so with a sigh, you put on your most authoritative voice.

 “Y’know. Three Cs! Caring cuts costs!” A phrase no one has ever said, but it sounds legitimate when you put it like that. That gets them to acquiesce. 

Thank God, Marcus helps you move the conversation along, “...What’s everyone doing for the holidays?” Alas for both of you, the silence is deafening. “...Or not.”

You volley back for him, “If no one has hard plans I was thinking of having a lil’ Holiday party? Nothing big. Sort of a ‘goodbye old apartment’ party? Come by after you hang out with your families or whatever?”

“Not gonna go up to Oak Park?” Rich leans one arm on your shoulder, nursing his whiskey cocktail in the other. 

“Meh.” You shrug, attempting to push him off you, but he doubles down. “We’re not so intense about holidays since everyone’s aged. I’ll visit my nephew on New Years.” 

“I’m doin’ Eve with Eva, but I’ll be free on the day. I’ll come by. We doin’ gifts?”

“I mean I got you something, so,” You tap the bottom of his glass as Rich takes another sip, making him flinch. “Catch the fuck up.” 

Syd pipes in, sniffing. “Me and my dad only celebrate on Christmas Eve now, so I’ll come.”

“Incredible. Two down.” You gesture to Marcus and Tina across the table. “You guys? Tina I assume you’ve got a loving family and shit?”

Tina smiles and nods, rightfully proud. “I do have a loving family and shit, but maybe I’ll come by late with them too?”

And Marcus tacks on with her, “I’m gonna be with my mom most of the night, but I’ll come through for a couple hours.”

“Perfect, perfect. Invites open to any plus ones as long as you text me first!” You hum, writing names down on the glass board. It’s kind of a nightmare of different lists at this point. “Richie, can you make sure Fak and Sweeps get the invite?”

“Yessir.”

“And us!?” Shrieks Cheech in the back, who really shouldn’t be able to hear you, he should be in the zone, slinging sandwiches.

You yell back without turning to him. “Yes, fucker, you and E can come, if you want! No fuckin’ plus one for you though!”

“Oh come the fuck on, Jack-Off!”

“Oh, make me a fuckin’ sandwich, big man!”

“Oh, I’ll make you a fuckin’ sandwich!”

“Oh, my dick!” A response that makes no sense, consistently the perfect bookend. You sigh, and finally, your eyes flit to the most terrified two in the room. “Berzattos… Holiday plans?”

“I think we’re gonna do dinner on Christmas Eve, and then the morning together? Well, I am.” Sug hesitates, she’s looking between Uncle Jimmy and Carmen. “I was gonna ask what Carm’s plan is…”

“I’ll go. I’ll go.” Carmen has to stop himself from biting the skin off the tips of his fingers. “I’ll go. And I’ll come to the party, after.” 

“I’ll probably just go home with Pete after. Baby’s first Christmas, y’know.” Natalie hums and nods awkwardly. There’s a question both of them want to ask. Neither of them are brave enough to ask it. And while you can sense there’s something dancing in the air, you’re not going to overstep on this front. 

“Mazel. I can buy silly decor with reason now. …Now let’s talk about the important grievances.” You hum, happy to end that chapter.

You turn just slightly to gently slap Richie’s cheek as he stands next to you. “Rich, you need to line your beard up, this neckbeard shit is pissing me off—”

“What’s with the fuckin’ drive by?!” “It’s been on my mind forever— You can’t be wearin’ suits and then be rockin’ that unkempt shit, clean up—” “I’m clean! I’m fucking clean!” “Who said? Who fuckin’ said? Cause I sure didn’t!” “How’m I s’posed to be linin’ my shit up every mornin’—” “You do not grow a beard that fast—” “Oh fuck you, I’m not fuckin’ Carmen, I grow a fuckin’ beard.”

Carmen’s just surprised to hear his name out of any name come up. “What– Now that’s a fucking drive by, what the fuck?” 

“If we’re voicing grievances, I’d like to voice my fuckin’ complaint with Captain Crash-Out over here—” “Who the fuck is sublimating now?” “You’re not usin’ that term correctly, cause you’re not integrated—” “I thought you two worked this out on the road trip!” “We did!”

You only half regret starting this feud with the beard comment— To be fair, you’re right. “This is it working?” 

“This is, in fact, it working.” Syd confirms plainly, her disappointment more than apparent. Rubbing the tips of her fingers to her temples. The fight is out of her, at this point. 

“Alright.” You slap your hands together. “Richie, what is your complaint?” Are you just union rep now? You might be a union rep now. 

“Carmen is fucking killing me.” The cocktail swishes and nearly spills as Richie points at the Chef, emphatic. “He won’t change shit for guests!”

“No substitutions!” It’s almost cultish, the way Sydney and Carmen yell it out together. 

Richie scoffs, head reeling back. “What happened to it bein’ about hospitality?” 

“I mean…” You suck air through your teeth, squinting. “If we’re sayin’ no substitutions, it’s no substitutions— Unless it’s like an allergy or sensory thing— But even then, it shouldn’t be like a major component getting replaced.”

“See? See?” It’s almost maniacal, rabid, how delighted Carmen is that you’re on his side. “Fuckin’ thank you. This is why I lo—” 

Before Carmen can finish his sentence, Richie flails about to suddenly throw the peach and blueberry skewer from his drink at Carmen— Not the pointed side, he doesn’t want to stab the guy. Just wants to save him from running his mouth. The peach slice hits Carm’s chest as Richie stutters out, “F-Fuck you, fuck you, fine. No substitutions— What the fuck am I supposed to say then?” speaking over whatever syllables fell out of Carmen’s mouth, muddling them. 

You cock your brow, but Carmen seems to quickly let the childish toss go, more than eager to move on. So you do too. “...Say some bullshit like, like, The Bear encourages —uhm— explorative culinary experiences where you let your taste buds go beyond your limitations and comforts— So eat a fuckin’ mushroom, you’re not gonna die.”

“If they don’t like mushrooms—” “Then they shouldn’t order it!” “How hard is it to just fuckin’ switch it out!?” “So hard! So hard! I think! I could guess!”

“I could do it.”

“Could you?” You cross your arms, leaning your weight onto one leg, pivoting to Richie. “Okay, roleplay, you’re Carmen, I’m you—” Just as Richie opens his mouth, you hold your index finger to his lips. “I know you wanna be a bitch, I’m askin’ you to just skip that part for me.”

His shit eating grin is only a little endearing. “How am I supposed to be in character if I’m not allowed to be a bitch?”

You clench and unclench your hands in the air, but let it go, opting to move on to your little thought experiment. “Chef, patient—” Instincts never give out, huh? “Christ, patron doesn’t want mushrooms in their anolini, I need you to sub it.”

“Ah, well I’m happy to do that for you, Host Richie, I—” He’s going to go into some scathing spiel, and you love the guy, but you have to rub dirt in the wound for the lesson to stick. 

You speak over him, voice stern, “Chef. In order to keep pace, I need you to make this call in fifteen seconds, what are you subbing it for?”

Richie’s head shakes back and forth as he scrambles to get his brain to work.“Fuckin— Fucking– Eggplant.” 

“Eggplant?” You ask politely, tone unsure. Carmen asks it with you, tone ridiculing. 

“It’s a sauce isn’t it?” You squint, turning your head to the actual Carmen. “It’s like a really thick mushroom sauce stuffed pasta?”

He tilts his head from side to side, but nods. In gist, yes. “It’s a ragout. Low and slow cooked stew—” Carmy’s ready to rave about it and teach you every facet of the dish, but perhaps that’s too romantic for a public setting. God, he’s weird about love. “We keep it going on our back burners all day— It takes an hour minimum to make from scratch, you can’t just sub it.” 

“Yeah, well…” Richie stops himself short of getting snarky for no reason all over again, taking a second to think about it. “Well, I didn’t know that. You didn’t explain that shit to me.”

“I don’t have time to hold your fuckin’ hand—” Carmen stops short of getting catty when you give him a very soft and yet gutting disappointed look. He pinches the bridge of his nose, sniffing. “I can’t explain why I do everythin’ I do when I’m— When we’re in a middle of a rush, I just need you to trust when kitchen says we can’t do it. Trust that I thought it through.”

Richie has to control himself, has to make sure the corners of his mouth don’t upturn just slightly, has to make sure it’s not clear that he is overjoyed that there’s finally middle ground, can’t get his hopes up. He nods. “I just wanna make everyone happy, y’know?”

“I know. You’re—” Carmen’s nose scrunches up for a second, God, he’s never had to say that he think’s Richie’s good to his face. And he’s not gonna start now, “Eggplant would be a good sub, if we had time.”

Richie prods his tongue along the side of his cheek, thinking. “Maybe I could look into knowin’ restrictions faster and estimatin’ their orders, so you can have ‘em on deck?”

And Carmen does think that’d be a waste of time, but he’s learning. He hears it out. “Could give it a shot, yeah.”

“Same team.” Richie reaches across the counter, and Carmen actually takes his hand, a quick dap. Civil.

“Same team.” First time you’ve heard Carmen adopt your idiom; you can’t help but smile, though you’re trying to hide it. You’re too focused on arguably the two most important men in your life to notice the silent conversation Uncle Jimmy is having with The Computer, speaking solely through nods and exchanged glances. 

Pay is for Chip. Cicero nods, and The Computer nods back. He gets it now. Pay is for Chip. Not just the mixologist, not just the sommelier, not just the repairman, not just the not-quite girlfriend, Chip. You’re Chip. You’re the cog, the piece. The grease between everyone. 

You’re the guy. Always have been, always will be. 

The silent conversation and the warm feeling in the room is cut short though, by The Computer. “Can she deal with the butter thing?”

“What the fuck is the butter thing?” You immediately jump onto the case, when Carmen looks down and away from you, you frown, leaning in. “What’s the butter thing?”

Jimmy snaps his fingers at The Computer, he hands him an invoice, which is then handed off to you. Old Major Farms, Orwellian Butter, salted and unsalted. $11,268. You just. Stare. The math comes all too easy to your head. Worth a week? 

“It’s the best.” Carmen repeats as your eyes remain worryingly unblinking. “It’s—”

“Carm.” Syd all but hisses, shaking her head in tight swivels, waving her hand around her neck for him to cut it. “Making it worse.”

“Angel is like, the worst it can get.” Hums Richie. Recalling your barometer of anger. Recalling the times when Mikey would say ‘what’s the point of paying bills?’ And you’d have to pull him aside. “Can’t get much lower than that besides—”

“Light of my life.” You look up from the paper in your hand, and both Richie and Sydney wince. Your voice is terrifyingly delicate as you nod over to the room behind you. “Apple of my eye. Can I speak to you in your office, please?”

Carmy’d like to say no. “...Yeah.” But you already started walking before he even answered, so there’s not much of a choice here. You head in by yourself, and thankfully, the door closes behind you, so Carmen’s got a second before he gets devoured. 

He walks around the counter, and as he nears the door, Richie grabs his arm. He whispers as he hands Carmen what’s left of his cocktail. “You need to lock the fuck in.”

“I know.” Carm returns, shooting down all that’s left of the lowball. Why’s Richie’s the sweet one? Why’d Carmen get the cough syrup drink? That’s not fair. Do you not think he’s sweet? “Thank you for the— Intercept.” 

Richie nods, he’s been unwillingly playing quarterback for Carmen since going to Rockefeller and seeing that goddamn giant tree and Carmen couldn’t stop opening his big fucking mouth after seeing you under the star. “Just think with your brain, not your—”

“Don’t.” “Was gonna say heart.” “Sure.” “Don’t be weird.”

“I know it’s expensive.” Carmen gets it out before even fully closing the door behind him, “But it’s normal prices, for high-end restaurants. I know it’s different—” He stops short when he finally turns around from the closed door, to see you, holding your painting. 

It’s facing you, you’re reviewing it in your hands where you sit in the office chair; the brown wrapping paper freshly ripped and on the floor. Carmen still doesn’t know what’s on the piece. 

“Carm.” You twist the piece around in your hand, turning it to him. He can see the nine squares. The Beef to The Bear. Mikey. “This is not another restaurant.”

Carmen continues to stare, silently, though he takes a step closer, reaching a hand out to graze over the canvas. You keep going, clarifying. “We’re not just another high-end restaurant. We’re us. And so we should be doing things like us. We’re the best, we don’t need the stuff to be.”

He was with you until that last part. His pursed lips say as much.

“It’s—” You smack your lips together, haphazardly handing him the canvas, he’s very quick to grab it with both hands, not wanting it unstable for a second. “Hold on, let me show you somethin’ — I think I left one in here.”

You roll the office chair back a bit, sinking down in the seat to reach far behind a tall cabinet; you have to pad your hand around in the dark nook for quite some time before you pull out— A screwdriver. An oddly shaped one, at that.

“...Has that been here the whole time?”

You nod. “Like threeish years at least, I think I threw it back there while telling it’s origin story. It’s part of the first set I ever got.” You grip the flat wooden handle. “It’s the worst screwdriver on earth, like, by far.” 

That gets a little chuckle out of Carmen. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You look up from it to him. “It’s a handmade set. Dad’s dad made it.” You awkwardly roll closer to him, he leans over, head next to your head as you both look down at it. “It’s got a flat wooden handle, made of poplar— So not only is it fucking impossible to get a good grip on, it’s also so fucking slippery. It’s part of a whole set, passed down from my grandpa to my dad to me.”

“Sounds fucked.”

“It is.” You laugh, and so does he. “It’s purposefully meant to piss you off.” You rub your thumb over the dent marks in the wood— All from the times you threw it at something— Including the very cabinet that it hid behind. “You ever wonder why I took over the handyman gig, bein’ the youngest and all?”

Carmy shrugs, glancing from the screwdriver to you. “Just assumed you were the best.”

That gets another laugh out of you, and Carmen’s overjoyed by the sound. “Yeah, I’m probably the best. But that’s only cause I kept up with it.”

You turn your head up to face Carmen again as you explain, “When our dad started bringing us to jobs as kids, he would make us exclusively use this set of screwdrivers— Sort of as a secret test. My brothers would get pissed off, as planned, and they’d quit and cry. And I dunno, I guess I’d cry and keep going? And I learned a couple tricks, eventually.”

“Tricks?”

“Like.” You pull back in the chair and run your hand across the office desk. The corners of it are screwed into the metal cabinet below it. “It’s really good if you’re screwing from the top down.” Using it as an example, you start to unscrew it. “It’s balanced. And it’s really all in the grip— Always loosen your grip with this one. Even if that seems counterintuitive.”

You get it to unscrew just fine with your loosened grip. “But if that doesn’t work, and you just can’t get it to work—” You lift the screwdriver in front of his face, showing off the sides of the handle. He smirks at the— “Just make your own grooves, it’ll be easier to hold.” Tiny teeth marks. 

“Carm.” You tap the handle to his nose as he zones in too much on it. “I’m the best repairman because I can work with anything. You’re the best Chef because you can work with anything. You don’t need the best when you’re the best.”

He’s the best? 

He’s the best. 

He’s the best. 

“I truly think you could make just as good a plate with Becel as this fucking Animal Farm butter.” 

Carmen’s the best. You think he’s the best. 

He’s gotta think with his head and not with his heart and not with anything else, either. Lock the fuck in, Carmen.

“I dunno bout all that.” He shrugs, bashful and attempting to hide it, trying to shake the praise off his back. 

“Well I know ‘bout that.” You shrug back, “I’m actually kind of a genius, when it comes to knowing who’s good and who’s not.”

“I don’t doubt that.” Carmy hums, and the sound is sweet without reservations. “...Painting is very good.” He nods to himself, on repeat, like a bobblehead. “Or I guess it’s less a painting and more a buncha photo transfers?”

“Yeah.” You set the screwdriver aside on the desk. “Most of them I took.”

“They’re good. It’s—” He pauses, tongue against his teeth. “It’s nice to see evidence he kept up, or somethin’.”

You nod, seeing Carmen’s brain struggle to keep pace in real time. “We took that one I think the day we talked to Uncle Jimmy about The Bear? Had to print out articles as proof we could make it work— Or, that you could make it work, rather.”

Carmen sniffs, crossing his arms, hands in tight fists— Probably too tight— where they hide. “Yeah, kinda fuckin’ up my end of the bargain, hm?” The light laugh that follows is hollow.

“Eh. You both did.” You smile, though it’s hesitant. “ But at least you’re still here fixing it.”

Still here. Still fixing it. That is in essence, the piece. Carmen gets lost staring at the squares, so you speak as he does. “I was trying to like. I dunno, replicate your brain.” He can see it. The messy yet coherent, controlled yet chaos. The love. The grief. The progress. The home. You see him. He can see that you see him. 

“11k for butter,” Carm’s head doesn’t move but his eyes raise to you. “Is a week. More than a week.”

Ah. Carmen can see you too, see your thought process. The Ascaso, worth one of the worst weeks of Mikey’s life. The fucking butter. Worth more than a week of Mikey’s sobriety. 

All you can do is nod solemnly. “It is, yeah.” 

He nods back, tongue prodding his cheek. “That’s too much.”

“I’d agree.”

“I’ll switch to local.” You make it easy for him to fix his mistakes, by giving him the space to realize them. 

“I think that’s the right call.” You nod, smiling. After a moment, you reach for Carmen to uncross his arms, and when he does, you take his fist and uncurl it— Your hand is a very soothing balm to the spots where he dug his nails into his own hand.

“Loosen your grip, Carmy.”

And so, he does. With a laugh and a look to high heaven, he loosens his grip. Really loosens his grip. Well— Not completely, he’s not going to say that, but he will say something that is just nearly as difficult but not quite. He'll bite down a little. He’ll make the grooves, for now, until his grip is good enough.

“Come to dinner with us?”

would you believe me if i said I had to rewrite a bit of this last scene because intially it went so rom-com and I was so disgusted when I reread it in the morning I had to stare at it in the subway ride to work like "what the fuck am I gonna do"

was this chapter good? God I hope so. I felt like with where we're going, it was kinda necessary to do Chip's onboard, set the stage for what work is like for her. I had to loosen my own grip with this one lmao. just allow myself to be a LITTLE messy. if it's bad, lie to me. tell me sweet little lies peach

DAD REVEAL THOUGH EH? MR CK!!! So much did happen this chapter. Chips on board! Squid Ink moving in together era commences! Christmas party!! Also. Would you believe me if I told you no shit syd was gonna move, she was planning it in S2, but I was planning this whole time for Ink to get evicted!! I want those fuckers to be roommates STAT!!!

anyways, i really hope i remembered to write down everyone that asked to be added to the taglist, i might've not. i'm very sorry if i didnt

oh also if you wanna be added!! send in your thoughts!! words for words baby, essay for essay cmonnn gimme ur character analysis!! (oh and also ask to be added, ofc)

@hoetel-manager , @fridavacado @sharkluver , @spectacular-skywalker , @silas-aeiou , @deadofnight0 , @sunbreathingstuff , @anytim3youwant @navs-bhat @whoknowswhoiamtoday @gills-lounge @blueaproncarmy @itsallacotar @catsrdabestsocks101 @popcornpoppin @renaissance-painting @lostinwonderland314 @v0ctin @ashtonweon @mrs-perfectly-fine @thefreakingbear @anytim3youwant

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Conrad with ‘’That was my slurpee.’’ and the road trip theme because it reminds me of the season 2 clip that got released earlier this week lol. smut or fluff, whatever you want

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—

For the first time, you didn’t make the drive down to Cousins' beach with your family. It was strange to not be squished in the backseat with your brother and little sister sharing laughters or fighting over the silliest things.

Instead, you were sitting in the passenger seat of Conrad’s red jeep, bare feet on the dash as you read a book. Since you were going to the same college, you decided to drive together straight from there instead of going home with your respective families and doing double the traveling.

It was also a good excuse to spend more time with Conrad before going back to sleeping in separate beds. You were going to miss waking by his side, getting coffee together at 11pm and ending up watching movies all night because the caffeine is keeping you awake, or him kissing your shoulder when he would turn during the night.

You loved Cousins and spending summer so close to the beach, but you couldn’t wait for college to start again and go back to your and Conrad’s small apartment. Back where it was just the two of you.

‘’Ugh, not again,’’ you complained when Conrad turned right and pulled into a gas station.

‘’Just a quick stop to fill the car,’’ he promised, backing the jeep into a gas filling spot and turning off the engine.

You had told your parents you would be there for lunch, but it was already 3pm. It’s traffic’s fault, you explained to your mother when she texted you asking if you were close. In truth, it was Conrad’s fault for not setting an alarm and waking late. Thankfully, your bags were already packed and ready. It would have made you even more late.

‘’I’m gonna get snacks,’’ you decided, unbuckling your seatbelt too. ‘’Want anything?’’

He shook his head. ‘’I’m good.’’

‘’I think I’m gonna get a pack of berry skittles…or maybe sour patch kids.’’

‘’Sounds good.’’

‘’Are you sure you don’t want anything?’’ you asked again, getting out of the jeep.

‘’Sure.’’ Conrad grabbed your arm and pulled you in for a quick kiss.

When you returned, your hands were full and your sunglasses slipping down the bridge of your nose made you suspect they were not yours. Conrad was already in the jeep, waiting for you.

‘’I’m back!’’ You slammed the door shut and dumped everything on your lap — minus the slurpee.

Conrad glanced at all the snacks you got and raised an eyebrow. ‘’Did you empty the whole gas station?’’ he teased, seeing everything you bought. ‘’And where’s my slurpee?’’

You pushed your sunglasses back up, seeing better, and took a sip of your drink. ‘’You always say it’s too sugary and gives you a brain-freeze.’’

‘’Yeah, well I’m thirsty, so too bad.’’ Conrad leaned toward the slurpee cup and took a long sip of your drink. He grimaced, regretting that choice. ‘’Hmm, that’s too sugary.’’ 

—

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[grugruel]

Bad News 1 |

Parts: 1/2, read part 2 HERE

Parings: dbf!bucky x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Inspired by, Call me by your name

Summary: Your fathers best friend accompanies you and your family to your summer house in the country. Sparks ignite as you grow closer, secretly spending one-on-one time together at night.

Words: 3.7k

Warnings: plot with smut, secret-relationship, angst, choking, praise kink, petname (doll), oral sex (f recieving), pinv sex, fingering, creampie, c*ck warming.

AN: Ill make it into a series if yall like it, please enjoy!

Baring Throats

I leaned onto the windowsill, one arm stretched into the cool night air, holding a half smoked ciagrette as I rested my head in the crook of the other. A song filled the empty night, small birds and morning doves serenaded me beautifully, the occasional cranes interuppting with their paired cries.

I took a puff, exhailing slowly as I admired the view overlooking the garden, the vast grass plains surronding the house and the tree line in the distance. It separated us from the forest, obscuring the lake behind it and hiding all things wild. I glanced down the long road leading up to the house, and found a man walking along it.

Bucky, heading back from another venture into town. Perhaps he had visited a lady friend, which he had a good number of, perhaps it wasnt any of my concern. It shouldnt bother me, yet, it did.

I found my mind drifting, painting a picture of him in a bed, sweaty and naked, laying next to another woman and a spark of jealousy flared up inside me. The sound of footsteps on a gravel path approached, bringing me back to the moment, I blinked the images away and rebuked myself.

Looking down to the ground, my eyes met his. Smiling, I greeted him amd leaned over the sill. Nothing on but a thin t-shirt and a pair of panties, goosebumps prickled my skin. He smiled back at me. We looked at eachother in silent understanding, our business remaining our own. Wordlessly we communicated, I took another drag of the cigarette and he gestured for me to give him one, I held my index finger up, indicating for him to wait a second as I grabbed the pack and lighter from my nightstand, in turn tossing them down to him. Graciously he caught them and lit up, I nodded my head inside, asking him to join me. He took a long drag of the cig, considering me carefully, but he shook his head. Smiling increadolously, he pointed at me as if saying, "youre bad news" then snuffed his cigarette and went inside.

I heard him walking up the stairs, toward my room, the footsteps stopping just outside my door. Please knock, I begged, he seemed to be considering it, but a moment passed and then another, and at last he left. Entering his own room instead, opposite mine.

This had been our routine for the past few weeks, both being night owls, we'd sometimes encounter eachother on the premises. Coming from our separete affairs, but never asking the other where they'd been. We'd share a snack, talk in hushed voices, hold in laughs and shush eachother when we inevitably were to loud. It became our little secret, not because we did anything innapropriate, but simply because it were a few moments that belonged to just the two of us. Talking about things we couldnt talk about with anyone else. It had been innocent at first, but at some point had that charming smile of his begun to make me blush, at some point had his touching become more tender and at some point did our night time talks stop being accidental, but rather sought out. Last night, we'd come dangerously close to kissing and I think alarm bells sounded for the both of us, which is why we kept our distance tonight.

Dissapointed I went to bed, falling asleep with unseemly images of my fathers best friend clouding my mind.

I slept late into the next day, the sound of heavy rain battering the roof roused me from my sleep. As I got ready to go about my day, I found a note slid under my door, my lighter was inside, along with a few written words "Smoking is bad, you know. I'd better finish them for you :)" Chuckling, I saved the note, tucking it into my nightstand. Wiseass.

Due to poor weather and lack of outdoor activities, the family + one was gathered in the livingroom. My parents on one sofa, dad holding an arm around my mom as they read from the same book, my brother in the armchair and Bucky on the other sofa, everyone reading a variety of something. They all looked up as I entered the room, feigning surprise that I had finally joined them.

'Good afternoon stranger.' my father chuckled. I kissed my mothers cheek in greeting, she smiled sweetly and squeezed my hand in response as I passed them.

'About time you graced us with your prescence' Bucky teased, making my brother and mother join in with the cheerful joking.

I smirked and shook my head, waving my hands dissmissively, 'Very funny, I blame the weather.' I said and gestured toward the sky, sitting down on the empty seat next to Bucky. I laid my legs in his lap and leaned back against the armrest, propping my head up on a pillow. A conversation was struck up, talking about what I had missed, discussing resent books and making plans for tomorrow, it seemed like we'd go to the beach. Ocasionally, Bucky would grab and squeeze my legs when talking, in the same way some people gestured to get their point across.

As the chill of the evening drew closer, we lit a fire in the hearth and grabbed blankets. But a shortage occured, so I had to move closer to Bucky, he laid an arm across my shoulder as I curled up intill him so one blanket would be enough for the both of us. We grabbed a few bottles of wine, dusted off the old board games and got down to business. A heated game of monopoly ensued, followed by a short dinner break, eventually resulting in very drunk charades. Bucky and I teamed up, two versus three and we won regardless. Were all very competitve people, safe to say that none of us went to bed feeling very sportsmanlike that night. As the evening wound down, so did our energy, the wine was taking its toll. My legs were tucked against Buckys chest as I leaned my head against his shoulder, he circled his arms around my legs and rested his chin on my knees. Lazily the five of us talked for a while longer, enjoying the pleasent atmosphere of the night while we were still contious to do so. Eventually though, as laughs turned into yawns, Bucky and I offered to stay behind and clean up while the other three departed. Tidying went by quickly, we made a good team. As I discarded the last of the dishes in the sink, he put his hands on my shoulders and kissed my forehead, trying to keep his focus on my eyes, 'Go to bed, doll. I got the rest.' He said, smiling sweetly, attempting to act sober and rubbed my shoulders tenderly.

I looked at him with hazy eyes, 'If you say so.' I answered, smiling lazily, then went upstairs. Between our rooms, there was a french balcony. It stood wide open, my parents had presumably opened it in a drunk hot-flash to let air in. I was headed for my room, but my mind drifted to the crisp, sublte wind calling my name. My feet changed direction by themselves, and magically I appeared in the opening.

Leaned against the doorframe, I fell half asleep, the rain had devolved into a drizzle, but the air was damp and pleasantly chilly against my skin. Involuntairy shivers took over my body, but I was to tired to move. I heard distant footsteps behind me, coming and going, and eventually coming back again. The steps approached and strong arms circled around my shoulders, a warm body pressing up against my back. He'd covered himself with a blanket, holding the ends in his hands and gift wrapped me into his embrace. I held onto his forearms, a smile kn my lips as I basked in his warmth.

He rested his head on my shoulder, 'You were gonna freeze.' He explained himself, whispering against my ear and sending a cold shiver through my spine. I leaned my head back against his chest, sighing happily as we stood silently, appreciating eachothers presence. I drunk his scent in as our breaths matched up, the birds singing for us once again.

'I want my cigs back.' I complained, drunkenly disturbing our peaceful moment.

Bucky chuckled, 'I dont want you to get cancer.' He protested, half-joking.

I turned around, alcohol causing the bounderies of a long friendship to blur. I placed my hands on his chest and met his eyes, looking at him through my lashes, making them as big and pretty as a puppys 'Please?' I asked kindly.

He looked at me with adoration in his gaze, removing the blanket from himself and covering my shoulders with it. A smirk curved his lips as he looked at me, shaking his head in defeat. Wordslessly his manmersism spoke for him, 'Youre bad news." they told me, and this it would get the better of him. He grabbed my hand and led me into his room. Once inside he let go of me, opened his window and began rummaging around his dresser. I leaned my back against the windowsill, grabbing the lighter from my pocket and crossed my arms, wrapping the blanket tighter around me as I waited, watching him with a smile on my lips. His arm shot up into the air, displaying the packet proudly as he found them, 'I'll give you, one.' He told me quietly, a stern expression on his face.

My mouth fell open in disbelief, 'I payed for them!' I exclaimed, forgetting myself. Bucky put a finger to his lips in a shushing motion, and walked up to me. He took a cigarette out of the pack and opened his hand expectantly, I gave him the lighter and he lit his cig, taking a puff and leaving it between his lips. He rested his elbows on the windowsill behind me and leaned forward, leveling his head with mine. Moving past my head, gracing my cheek with his as he blew the smoke out of the window, then leaned back. He had one arm on each side of me, crossed behind my back, he had me pinned between him and the window. Our faces were inches apart, both painfully aware that this wasnt appropriate of a daughter and the family friend, but the wine had pushed out any reason or logic of our minds. I couldnt help but look away, suddenly shy. Luring a smile from him as he observed the way a blush crept its way up my cheeks. I took the cig from him, my fingertips acidentally grazing his lips, and placed it between my own. I took a puff and faced him again, our eyes locked, sharing hidden thoughts through transparent gazes.

Energy sizzled in the air, building onto the tension between us, magnetizing it, pulling at the invisible string that connected us. 'Let me taste.' He whispered, inching closer. I hesitated, before slowly exhaling the smoke as he breathed it in, sharing the toxic cloud between us, poisoning our judgement. I felt myself drawn closer to him, the string pulling taunt on both ends, his lips a mere ghost over mine. Temptation coarsed through our veins, causing heavy breathing as we fought our urges. But we both gave in, in the end.

Our lips met in a soft kiss, he moved his arms from the windowsill and grabbed my waist. I was taken off guard, but welcomingly so. Complicated feelings bounced through my mind, but I couldnt back down now. I hurridly snuffed out the cigarette against the sill and snaked my hands around his neck as I kissed him back, pulling him closer. His hands found their way under my shirt, sliding up my torso until his fingertips touched the plush flesh of my breasts. He inhaled sharply, the oxygen returning to his brain as common sense flooded back to him. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it, this was his best friends daughter. He tore free from the claws of desire, grabbing my arms and unhooking them from his neck, he backed up. I reached out for him, but he pulled away, sitting down at the end of his bed, he laid his head in his hands, a labored sigh leaving him.

'We cant, you know we cant.' He whispered, voice muffled against his palms. I did know, but I couldnt help it. I sat down next to him, wrapping my arms around his, grabbing his bicep as I rested my head against his shoulder. He sat straighter, letting one of his hands fall to my knee as the other stroked my hair, he kissed the top of my head.

'I just- Why did it turn out this way?' I asked him quietly, my voice quivering 'I know we cant, but. . .' I paused, thinking of the right words. His hand slid from my hair to gently caress my cheek, then tracing his fingers finger along my jaw until they found purchase under my chin and tilted my face to meet his. I searched his gaze for something unknow to me, 'I need you.' I whispered foolishly, my eyes watering, 'This is all your fault you know, your stupid smile and caring words.' I laughed mirthlessly, keeping my eyes locked on his, as a tear threatened to fall.

He cupped my face with boths hands, looking at me with a sorrowful expression as he leaned his forehead against mine.

'Bucky, please.' I whispered, leaning into his touch 'If you cant have me, stop this.' I pulled one of his hands from my face, clasping my own around it and kissed his palm softly before letting it fall to my lap.

'I cant get stuck. . . Wanting your love if you cannot give it to me.' I told him quietly, squeezing his hand as my voice broke, I leaned back, meeting his eyes again, pleading, 'Please say something.'

But he remained quiet as his eyes welled, admiring my blushed, tear streaked face.

My eyebrows furrowed, not understanding how he could be so cruel. A tear finally rolled down my cheek and my chin quivered in disbelief, I was nothing more than a naive girl to him.

I looked away, not wanting him to see the pain he caused me. I took his silence as a rejection and moved to stand, but he grabbed my wrist, stopping me from leaving, 'Let me go.' I cried silently, unwilling to face him as tears streamed down my cheeks. I stood again, pulling, trying to unclasp my hand from his grip but I could not, 'Please Buck, I cant do this.' I croaked, looking up at the ceiling as I tried to blink my tears away.

'Look at me.' He ordered softly, but I refused. 'Doll.' He whispered in warning, but hearing his name for me only made my cry harder, I pulled on his grip again but he was unrelenting. 'Sit, please.' He asked this time, desperation burried in his voice.

'No.' I answered, resolute.

As I was not cooperating, he took matters into his own hands. He pulled me back down and cupped my face as kissed me harshly, I fought him out of anger, but quickly melted into his touch, all was forgiven, it had always been.

He deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue into my mouth, moaning from just the taste of me. My hands found their way to his brown locs, burrying themselves, while his hands felt their way down my body. We fell backwards onto the bed and he cilimbed on top of me, pushing his knee between my legs to separate them. His lips found my neck, trailing kisses from my jaw to collarbone as his hand kneaded its way up my thigh, my skirt catching on his wrist. His lips left my skin as he sat up, scaring me for a moment as I thought he changed his mind. But he climbed down to the foot of the bed, knees on the floor and hooked his hands under my kees, pulling me to the edge of the bed. His hands found my panties and ripped them off, I gasped from the sudden gust of cold air hitting my wet core. He kissed my thighs, licking and nipping as he worked his way inwards, panting inbetween pecks, desperate to taste me. He looked up at me, meeting my eyes as he hovered over my core, his breath fanning over my clit, he looked like a crazed mad man. The anticipation was overflowing, I bit my lip, nodding for him to go ahead and he dove in. Lapping at my clit, tasting me. I almost screamed from the sudden sensation, but covered my mouth at the last second. I rutted my hips against him, hoping for further friction, but his hands grabbed my hips, holding me down so he could please with intention. I whined, grabbing at the sheets, pulling on them for support, It wasnt enough.

'More, more.' I moaned, and he obligingly latched onto my clit, sucking as two of his fingers found their way inside me, thrusting and curling at my pleasure. Breathy moans escaped me as I was getting closer to cumming.

'Close, real close' I managed with a mumbling voice, he squeezed my hip in reassurance, telling me it was alright. I hummed as the knot in my stumache pulled tighter, he pushed another finger inside me and im convinced I saw the light. I came tumbling over the edge, stiffling another scream by shoving my face into the bed. And as I was catching my breath, he kissed his way back up to me, climbing on top once again, he snaked one arm under my back to pull my shirt off, freeing my breasts, then lifted my hips to take my skirt off, followed by his own shirt and sweats. He was huge, no surpise there.

'You okay?' He asked, and I hummed in response, cupping his face and pulling him back up to my lips, kissing him with a burning passion. He pulled back, 'Use your words girl.' He said sternly.

'Need you.' I whispered, kissing him again.

'You sure doll?' he asked against my lips, I nodded enthusiastically.

'Please, Ive never wanted anything more.' I assured him. He hooked my leg onto his knee, raising it to get better access to my opening. I circled my other leg around his hip and he lined himself up with my entrance.

'Look at me.' He ordered again, and I met his eyes, gazes locked deeply as his tip teased my entrance. I admired his beautiful face as I circled my arms around his shoulders, preparing for whatever was to come. Suddenly he slid inside me and we gasped in unisome, he didnt move for a second so I could get used to his size. He stroked a strand of hair behind my ear as he admired my face, 'My beautiful girl.' He whispered, making my heart beat faster.

He pulled out of me and thrusted in again softly, setting a slow but intent pace. Each thrust took my breath away, all the while he was grunting in my ear. His hand found its way to my throat, closing around it and squeezed, putting slight pressure on it and stealing another moannfrom me in the process. He graced his nose against my cheek, kissing my jaw as he thrusted deeper, and I met them with desperate ruts, 'C'mon doll, just like that.' He encouraged me in a breathy voice, that alone couldve been enough to make me cum. He trailed kisses down my chest and latched onto my breast, taking it into his mouth, sucking and nibbling at my nipple as his hand found the other, kneading it intently.

'Getting- closer.' I hummed, but his thrusting slowed, eventually stopping completley. 'Buck?' I questioned, and he let go of my breasts, pulling out of me completley, pleasure and confusion mixed my mind into a strange mess. He backed up, grabbed my legs, raising them and in one solid motion hooked them onto his shoulders and thrust into me again, deeper than ever before. A loud moan tore through me, to blided by the feeling that I completley forgot about being silent. His hand quickly covered my mouth as he began a ruthlessly deep and hard pace, rocking my entire body. His mouth quickly replaced his hand, kissing me deepley, passionateley, in rythm with his thrusts.

'Almost there, doll.' He mumbled between kisses, I nodded, not able to for words, but I was close to. The knot in my stumache terribly close to coming undone once again. His thrustingbecame rougher, harder as he closed in on his orgasm, hitting that sweet spot every time. Our breaths were nothing more than frenzied moans, his pace faltered, giving it all he had for a few last thrusts before we both came undone. Warm liquid spurting into me as he collpased on top of me, resting his head in the crook of my neck and kissing my skin softly as we cought or breath, 'Good girl.' He whispered, 'My good, good girl.' He panted, still inside me as his seed slowly, sippered out of me.

My heart fluttered at his words as I fought to keep my eyes open, the alcohol and exhaustion from the day along with the bliss of our secret activities were catching up to us. He laid an arm around my ribbcage, pulling me closer to him, I hooked my leg over his hip and curled up to him. I gave him a quick peck on the lips as he kissed my forehead, and we fell asleep in eachothers arms.

I woke up later in the night, but in my own room. I wouldve thought I had dreamt it all if it wasnt for the blanket tucked tightly around me, still smelling of him.

Read part two HERE <3

[user211201]

Ape boy

--- Originally posted on 2017-01-10 on realhankmccoy ---

“Just don’t make me dumb, man, I want to keep everything about my mind totally intact,” I told my friend at the lab.

I was totally willing to go through the procedure but I didn’t want it messing with my intellect any – my job and lifestyle were too important to me.

They promised me a whole new masculine experience, that they could bring out the man in me in ways that were easily accessible through epigenetic therapy.

I’d be fitter, more energetic, more attractive and just altogether healthier. It was in the beta testing process and they said they’d throw in $3000 if I signed off, too. I’d only need to take a few weeks off work for an outpatient trial.

“That didn’t seem so bad,” I said after the doctor finished up removing the slow drip from my arm and the infusion was complete. Took two different bags of fluid but I mostly felt fine, if a little faint at first.

I got home and realized I was pretty tired so I stripped down and went to bed. I started noticing the changes the next day already. I did have more energy. My face seemed handsomer, just a tad. After two days I was feeling pretty into this.

It was the third day when I started noticing that I was getting beefier.

That was cool, I thought, but then I noticed I was feeling hornier, too. I ignored it at first, but by the end of the day I was jacking off in my bedroom, hard. I got up off my bed, still stroking my dick, to check myself out in the mirror.

“Looks hot,” I thought, stroking it slowly. If this stuff made my sex drive a little stronger, that was fine with me.

I started getting obsessed with checkin’ out the changes in the mirror, and I had so much energy that I started working out. I’d be doing pushups on my hardwood floor and getting excited over how I was going to flex in front of the bathroom mirror after I finished a set of 50.

I went back to the lab and they didn’t seem to think it was a problem.

So I figured, what the hell, I might as well enjoy this. Pretty soon I was hanging out in just my underwear all the time. That didn’t make me dumb, I knew, it just felt good. I might as well get into it, I figured.

Only problem is I got used to it pretty quick. I hate wearing clothes now, dudes.

I looked in the mirror one day and I just looked so fucking good with these thick pecs and the thicker stubble on my face. I figured I should have fun with a haircut so I got kind of a high and tight, cut real short though, and that just turned me on. Even my facial structure has changed from this shit they’re doing to me. My ears look like they stick out more, like some dumb ape or something, and that just makes me hard. I’ve hot this thick abdomen and these beefy deltoids. I feel like I look more like a football dude, even, and I started watching football even. Might as well have fun while I’m stuck in outpatient anyhow.

They told me it wouldn’t alter my mind any but it’s like I’m addicted to working out, flexing in the mirror, taking selfies, hooking up – with dudes – I just find em on my phone. I stopped reading. I look at these hairy legs and I get hard just touching em, I rub a hand across my pecs and my nipples are hard right away and I feel my cock jump up wanting a piece of the action. All I can think about is my goddamn cock, man.

So I took another week off work because I’m not ready to go back, and told myself on Monday I’d start getting ready to get my life on track. I just procrastinated the whole day, jacking off in bed, mostly, slowly stroking it. I guess my new bod’s so awesome that it’s just depressing to think of going back to the office.

My alarm goes off on Tuesday, and I throw it against the wall and say fuck it. One more day of fun’s not gonna hurt. Dudes, I look so fucking good. At least I’ll be productive today, I tell myself. So I start off the day with a ton of pushups, make myself a protein shake, and I look so ripped in the mirror that I figure I’ll score myself a hookup off Grindr. Guy comes over, and his hairy, hard pecs crushed against mine – my rubbing the short beard I’ve got started all up on his asshole, and that turns him on enough that he’s letting me lift his legs and plow the shit out of him..

After he’s gone, I’m back in front of the mirror saying “you fucking stud. Yeah you fuckin’ ape boy. Fuckin’ just want to fuck with dudes, don’t you, gay boy. Yeah you jocked up fuck. Just want to get naked and fuck, don’t you?”

Still hard, still horny, so just stroking my dick slowly while I put the game on for ambience. I don’t know how Thursday’s gonna shake out but today I just went out and bought a basketball hoop for the driveway so I could burn off some of this energy. Felt fuckin’ great, too, goin’ out in the sun in just some shorts and Nikes working on my game. Soon as I was back indoors though, man, just stripped back down to my underwear – I can’t stop admiring this body. Gotta get another dude over here to mess around with. Fuck work, man, you only live once, right?

Think I’m gonna pick up a big screen for the bedroom because that’d be pretty cool, and I just found out gay dues have their own hockey leagues you can join so I’m thinking of that. How hot would that be – those dudes are fuckin’ built, man, and I could pick it up pretty quick I bet.

Fuck, let me know if – oh, fuck it, I’m gonna order a pizza and see if I can find a hot hookup for tonight. Some dude with pecs as thick as mine and who’s like me slapping this cock all over his tongue for a couple of hours while I tease the shit out of his hot jock ass. Yeah man. Fuckin’ hot, man, I could pump a full load into some dude’s muscle butt and be ready to score again two hours later. That’s how good I feel. Friends with benefits, whatever you want to call it as long as it’s none of that lovey-dovey or dramatic shit – I’ve got em on the phone. Sex, muscle, good food and workin’ out, so glad I met those lab rats.

[hsjazebel]

Desperate part 2*

Word count: 2763

A/n: I’m sorry to have made you wait so long for part 2, but here it is! I hope you enjoy💘

main masterlist | desperate masterlist

“I'm gonna fuck you so good you won't be able to look me in the eyes for a week without blushing."

He looks you straight in the eyes and your mind is blank, you just want to be fucked so good and not think about anything.

“Cat got your tongue? I've barely touched you and you're already all stupid! You just want my cock in your little pussy, don't you?”

You nod not having the strength to speak, but this isn't enough for him.

“Words, baby. I need to hear your beautiful voice. Is that what you want?”

"Yes, yes. I want you!"

“Oh is it, pretty girl? You want me? Who expected that the good girl who knows how to cook such good pasta would actually hide a dirty part! But don't worry, now I'm here to scratch your itch, I'll treat your pussy so good I'll ruin you! Are you ready pretty girl? There’s no turning back.”

“Yes, I want it so bad!”

“Good girl!”

And so, he sticks his cock in you and it's like the rest disappears. You lie there with your mouth open making little moans because of the feeling of his big cock opening you up and stretching you out to make his way in your pussy.

“This is all you’re good for, just a hole for me to fuck. Such a nice, wet little pussy for m-“

The sound of your alarm clock wakes you up from your wet dream. You open your eyes trying to adjust to the light coming from the windows. Last night you forgot to lower the shutters and you're mentally cursing yourself for it.

The memories of your dream are still in your mind that you can even feel your panties getting wet.

It's been a week since your first meeting with Harry and it's been a week that you only have him on your mind.

This isn't the first time you've had a dream like this. And you know it won't be the last either.

You desperately want to take care of yourself but you don't have time because you promised your mother to go out and do some shopping together.

You decide to go take a cold shower trying not to think about the all too real feeling of Harry fucking you.

Then you choose an outfit for the day and go down to the living room where you find your mother fully dressed.

“I'm so happy to have a mother-daughter day! It's been a while since we went shopping together. I'm sad your sister isn't here too, it would have been nice to just be girls!” Your mom says as she grabs her purse and keys.

“Yeah, but she’s like Dad, she doesn't like shopping,” you follow her as you leave the house.

“I really don't know how she doesn't feel like going out and buying new clothes!” She laughs.

“I always ask myself that too!” You laugh along with her.

You both head towards the city center and start entering various shops.

After spending an hour trying on clothes, you decide to go into Sephora, a place you can't resist, and while you're debating whether or not to buy the Rare Beauty blush you hear your mother's phone ringing. She spends a few minutes on the phone and when she hangs up the call she looks at you with a sad look.

“They just called me from work. They said they found a motive against the other defendant in the trial. I have to go to the office. I'm so sorry to have to leave now, I even thought about going to brunch together.” You can tell she wasn't happy about leaving, but your mom was an established lawyer in your city, and she was now working on this very important case, she couldn't do anything about it.

“Don't worry Mom, I know how important this case is for you! I think I'll take another look in here and then I'll go get something to eat quickly,” you smile at her trying to cheer her up. “Come on, don't make that face, I'll stay here all summer, we'll find many more days to have another mother-daughter moment.”

"You are right! It seems to me that I don't see you very often and I was so happy to spend this day with you! Please don't spend too much money on makeup, I know you don't have a minimum of self-control when you come in here,” she laughs as she hugs you goodbye. You hug her back and with that you see her leave the shop.

You finish your shopping trip - and you may not have exactly listened to what your mother told you about not buying too much makeup - and decide to go alone to that brunch you were supposed to have with her.

You arrive at a small place near the center called Jerome and already from the outside you could see that the interior was all decorated in pink and this caught your attention.

You had passed by here several times but you had never seen it or heard the name of the place, so you deduce that it is a new opening, and so you decide to go in.

The interior was as you expected, all pink with neon cursive writing. On the left was a wall covered in pink and white roses with large swings as eating stations, which also had a large teddy bear that you found absolutely adorable, and on the left a large glass counter showing that which, in your opinion, was paradise.

A waitress with a welcoming smile comes towards you, inviting you to take a seat in the front room and that someone will come to take your order once you are ready.

You return her smile by thanking her kindly and make your way into the room she indicated.

On the way, you find on the right side a wall covered with pink velvet and a bicycle leaning against it with another big teddy bear on it. You find this corner particularly cute so you take your phone out of your bag to take a photo.

As you open the camera app you hear a familiar voice calling you.

“Hi Y/n!”

You turn in the direction of the voice and find the protagonist of your latest dreams sitting at a table on a pink velvet armchair.

"Oh! Hi Harry!" You return the greeting by smiling at him.

He pulls back a chair as a sign to sit next to him and you gladly accept.

“Shopping day I see,” Harry tells you pointing to the bags you had to bring with you.

"Oh yes!" You laugh. “I was out with Mum but she had to run away to work, so I'm forced to go around with all these bags!”

Harry laughs back. “That's why you're here alone.”

You are about to answer him but are interrupted by a waiter who has come to take your orders.

Once he leaves - not before giving you a sweet smile - you see Harry give the boy a not-so-kind look.

You continue your conversation until within a few minutes your food arrives.

You start eating in silence and you notice that Harry keeps staring at you.

“Do I have something on my face?”

“Mh? What?"

“I see you staring at me, I asked you if I had something on my face.”

“No, no you don't have anything on your face, it's just… I don't know if it's appropriate to ask you something.”

“Ask me what?”

He takes a long sigh. “I was just thinking… if you have a boyfriend”

You stop yourself from laughing at his question. “No, I don't have a boyfriend. Why do you ask?"

“I was just curious to know I guess. It is undeniable that you are a beautiful girl and I also noticed how that boy looked at you before and I was just wondering if you have a boyfriend, that's all."

"Don’t worry. In fact, right now I don't want a boyfriend, I broke up a couple of months ago so I'm thinking more about myself now."

“I'm sorry, I didn't know you broke up recently. Can I ask why if it doesn't bother you?”

“Don't worry, it doesn't bother me. I've been with this Italian guy named Lorenzo for more or less a year and a half, except that in the last period, things between us haven't been going so well. In the last few months, I saw him as more detached, and in the end, I discovered that he had another woman... that’s the reason!" you laugh sarcastically.

“Excuse my language but… he must be a real dickhead to have cheated on you.”

“I'm big now, you can use bad words in my presence, and yes you're right, he's a big dickhead!” You laugh and he follows you.

After finishing your brunch you are the first to get up.

“Thanks for keeping me company, Harry. I really enjoyed talking to you!”

“No, thanks to you Y/n! And I enjoyed talking to you too! It could be done more often!” He tells you smiling, making his dimples appear.

“Yes, I would be more than happy to do it again. Maybe I could mention to Dad to invite you to dinner some evening.”

"I'd really like to."

And so you head towards the exit of the place with him opening the door for you like a true gentleman.

Once outside, however, you remember that you had arrived here in your mother's car and now that she was gone you didn't know how to get home. So your only option - other than walking in the July sun for 40 minutes on foot, which you didn't think was the best option - was to ask Harry for help.

“Um, Harry?” You call him. “Sorry but I just realized that I don't know how to get home since my mother left with the car, and.. uhm I wanted to ask you if by any chance, if it were possible for you, you could take me home.”

You didn't like bothering people about your things, because you always had the impression that you were annoying.

“Of course, I can take you home Y/n! I would never leave you stranded. In fact, I was just asking you if you wanted a ride but you beat me to it."

And with that, you head towards his car. And again, being the gentleman that he is, he opens the door for you to get into the car.

Along the way you are rather silent, in addition to the noise of the radio music in the background, there is every now and then an exchange of words.

Once you arrive at the gate of your house you almost feel sorry to let Harry go, and he seems to think the same as you.

You're about to say bye and thank him when an idea comes to you.

“You know I was thinking about the conversation we had that evening at my house and I just remembered that I have another book that I think you might like… if you want you could come in the house for a moment.”

“Yes, I'd like to come in but I don't want to disturb you."

“Don't worry, there's no one at home. Mom and Dad are at work and my sister is at the beach with some friends.”

“Oh…okay.”

He leaves the car in the driveway and so you go into the house.

As soon as you enter you head towards the bookcase in the living room but looking carefully among the books you don't find what you were looking for.

Going back in your memory you remember leaving it in your room; you had recently finished reading it and you immediately thought Harry might like it.

“Um…I think I left it in my room, if you want you can come with me, I also have other books there and I think you might find something you might like.”

"Yes, of course!"

So you go up the stairs and enter your room, but as soon as you enter you see the chair near your bathroom with your pajamas and underwear on it that you had taken off before entering the shower.

But the thing that immediately catches your eyes are your white lace panties on top of your clothes, and, if you look at them better you can also see a darker part on their crotch which you know well what is due to: the man next to you to you.

While you were both in your room, you felt a strange tension in the air. You look at Harry and notice the way he avoids your gaze as if he's hiding something. You suddenly feel vulnerable, remembering the embarrassing moment when you had accidentally left your panties on the chair. You wonder if he saw it.

“Sorry if the room is a little messy,” you say, trying to break the awkward silence.

He smiled faintly. “Don't worry, you told me that the book you recommended is here somewhere, right?”

Your heart beats faster in your chest as you try to figure out if he's just trying to be nice or if he's trying to avoid the awkward moment.

“Sure, it's right there on the nightstand,” you reply, gesturing to the book with a wave of your hand. “Sorry about the mess.”

He walks over to the nightstand, but in his gaze, he notices your panties casually placed on the chair. He lets out a short sigh, trying not to let his embarrassing discovery show. “Thank you,” he said, taking the book carefully.

The tension in the air seems to increase as they both look into each other's eyes, an energy filled with repressed desire and forbidden curiosity.

You try to ignore the racing of your heart as he walks away from the nightstand with the book in his hands.

“There are some really interesting parts,” you say, trying to keep the conversation light. "I hope you like it."

He nodded with a gentle smile. “I can't wait to read it, thanks for the advice.”

The silence that followed was heavy, full of tension and unspoken meaning. You both knew what was behind that embarrassing moment, but neither seemed ready to face it.

You bit your lower lip, trying to find the courage to say something, anything that would break the overwhelming tension. But the words seemed to get stuck in your throat.

Finally, he turns to face you, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that makes you tremble slightly.

“Is there anything else you would like to talk about?” He asks you, his voice barely a whisper.

You swallow, feeling your heart beat so loudly it sounds like a drum in his ears. “Yes,” you admit in a small voice. “There is something we need to address.”

You feel your heart beating furiously in your chest as he gently approaches, creating an atmosphere full of anticipation.

“I know,” he whispers softly, his voice a seductive harmony in the air vibrant with desire.

A shiver of emotion runs through your skin as your gazes meet, communicating desires and secrets hidden deep inside.

You nod slightly, unable to articulate a sound, your breath held in anticipation of what was about to happen.

He gets even closer, so close that you can feel the heat of his breath on your skin, but without ever crossing that invisible border that separated reality from enchantment.

An instant of silence full of meaning lasts longer, time seems to have stopped as you let yourself be enveloped by the magic of waiting, aware of how powerful and precious that tension suspended between you can be.

You get dangerously close to the point where you can feel his nose touching yours, the desire between you vibrating in the tense air.

Lips a few millimeters apart, the imminent contact was like a promise of suspended passion, when suddenly the sound of the front door opening resonates in the air, interrupting the intimate moment.

You both tense up instinctively, your heart quickening its pace in your chest as your gazes meet in a mixture of agitation and repressed desire.

“Y/n! I am home!" You hear your father's voice coming from downstairs.

“Fuck,” you say as you pull away from Harry, but the heat of the barely touched contact still burned on his lips, while your body trembled slightly in anticipation of what might happen.

[butchcarmy]

Blood Orange (Ch 1: The Walk-In)

Carmy Berzatto x Reader (R18)

Rating: E (7.3k words)

links: fic playlist, pinterest board, ao3 link, ch 2

Summary: Losing your job is the worst thing to ever happen to you. Getting hired by Carmen Berzatto is a close second. You tell yourself that The Beef is only temporary, that it's just a replacement until you find something better. It doesn't work. You've stopped listening. You've had a taste of Carmy, and now you don't think you're ever gonna be able to let go. No matter how bad it gets. 

Content Tags: secret workplace relationship/sex, friends/coworkers with benefits, they/them afab reader, miscommunication, mental illness (carmy and reader), dom/sub dynamics, dom carmy (for now), enemies to friends to lovers (eventually), unhealthy coping mechanisms, dysfunctional relationship

A/N: It's finally here! New series! We even get sex in the first chapter! In my other fic, I'm taking care of Carmy. In this one, I'm making him worse. Of course, here's a disclaimer that I DON’T condone or intend to glorify any of this behavior. It's just compelling to write. Enjoy!

You return to The Beef for the first time in years when you're at your lowest.

The only upside to this abysmal situation is that the job was shitty. The job you just got laid off from, to be exact. Retail was never your passion, and there's a certain relief in knowing you don't have to go back to that windowless place. You didn't play an important role in the ecosystem, but it played a pretty crucial role in yours. It kept a roof over your head.

You're sure you could’ve sued them in some fashion for letting you go without any warning, any parachute, but you didn't have the luxury of time. You needed to figure out how you were going to pay rent, and fast.

After the rage boiled over (not to say that it's resolved, the residual anger's leveled into an even simmer), you pulled your hair back, found your cleanest, nicest outfit, and started your job search. With your updated resume in hand and scuffed sneakers on your feet, you've trekked all over Chicago looking for a new job. You weren't optimistic, nor were you hopeful. 

You suppose the only word you could use to describe yourself was desperate, and it was a matter of finding someone that was just as desperate, if not more desperate than you. To put it politely, the odds of that were low. Very low. 

You got laid off that very morning. The rest of your afternoon has been spent walking from door to door to every establishment you could spot. By some cruel twist of fate, none of them were hiring. The ones that were hiring looked unenthusiastic, even adverse to taking your resume. 

“When would you be able to start?” Some of the workers asked. 

“Tomorrow,” was your desperately honest answer. 

“If all goes well, you'll hear from us in a week,” was their response. The unspoken was, of course, the fact that radio silence was more likely than an email or phone call. Places didn't even send rejection letters anymore. 

“Thanks for your time,” you'd say, bringing out a bright smile from a complete lack of reserves, and as soon as you turned around, your face would drop. 

Your hopes were low, nearly non-existent, but damn. Damn. It wasn't looking good for you.

That's why you enter The Beef. You vaguely remember visiting this place a couple years ago, back when you first moved to Chicago. The owner was…pretty nice, actually. You don't remember his name, but you remember having a pleasant conversation with him. Of course, there's nothing you can do if he doesn't have a job opening, but it wouldn't be bad to see a friendly face. Even if that face is from someone who's basically a stranger. 

The doorbell rings when you enter. It catches the attention of the man standing behind the counter, and with how his head jolts up, you'd think the bell functioned as an alarm instead. 

“Welcome,” he says. Your first impression, other than the fact that he seems very, very, tired, is that he's irritatingly attractive. If anything, the eyebags and the greased back waves only add to whatever the hell he's got going on. 

“Hi. Um…” You're briefly caught off guard by his biceps, but you catch yourself. “I was actually wondering if you guys were hiring.”

“We are,” he replies, and it's the best thing you've heard all day. He lights up like the spark of a lighter, bright and instantaneous. It doesn't shake the pervasive exhaustion that radiates off him, though. 

“Thank god,” you mutter, and you want to take it back (it's far too casual), but he cracks an amused smile that makes you want to dissolve like a pinch of salt in a sea of sauce. “Sorry. Do you mind if I talk to the owner? We met a while ago, and—”

“I'm the owner,” he interrupts, and any other words you had planned fall away.

“Sorry?” You repeat. “I swear it was this guy—he had short dark hair, I think—”

“Yeah, he left the place to me. Didn't want it anymore, so.” He shrugs. The light you just saw from him has fizzled away like the end of a sparkler, short-lived and ultimately disappointing. 

“Oh. Got it. Uh…” To your credit, you don't fumble for too long. You have a lot of questions, but you've got more pressing issues. You pluck out a resume from a file folder. “Here's my resume, then.”

He takes it from you, flips it to face him. He's quiet as his eyes lower down the page, and you wonder if it's going to be a guillotine or a pot of gold at the end of this. The only sounds in the entrance are the passing cars outside, the rickety air conditioning, and muffled chatter from the back. 

“You worked as a prep cook.” He says it like a fact, but you know it's a question. 

“Yeah, nothing fancy. Just at some chain restaurants.”

“Right. I see you worked as a line cook at another location. Which one did you prefer?”

“Uh…” They both came with their separate pains. Your honest answer is that being a line cook was one of the most stressful experiences of your life, but if he has a position open as a line cook, you don't want to fuck it up. “They were both fine. I think I was a little better as a prep cook, but I didn't mind either.”

He hums, satisfied by your answer. At least it’s only half of a lie.                                                                                                                    

“How do you work under pressure?”

“Good,” you answer quickly. “Well enough.”

“Willing to learn?”

“Obviously. I mean…” You think you see a flash of a smile, but you're unsure. “Yeah.”

“When'd you be able to start?” You're surprised he's already asking this.

“Tomorrow,” you say, just like you’ve been, and his reaction is different from the others. He nods. He doesn't smile, not like he did earlier, but you can tell this is a good sign. 

Before he can get a word out, there's a sharp, metallic explosion of noises that resounds from the direction of the kitchen. 

“Uh,” he starts, eyebrows pinched in irritation, the voices come in. 

“I told you, you have to say behind!” A woman's voice. She sounds young, but there's no real way to be sure of that.

“How the hell did you not hear me coming?” A Chicago accent, male. Older, maybe. “I was in the middle of having a conversation with Tina—”

“Great, I'm so happy for you, I don't give a shit, now this has all went to waste—”

“Well, who's fault is that?”

“Who's fault is that? You did not just—”

“Guys!” The man you've been talking to gives you an apologetic glance before walking to the back, pushing through the folding doors. You catch a glimpse of the two people arguing on the other side before it shuts. “I'm tryin’ to talk to a new hire here. We can't be like this right now. Not ever, but especially right now.”

Finally, the first sane person I've met all day, you think. 

“Carmy, talk some sense into her,” the older guy shouts, and it gives you a name to the face. “All of this on the floor—”

“You didn't say behind,” the woman repeats, except with more fury in it this time.

“You didn't say behind,” he imitates back. “Carmy—”

“She’s right. Richie, step out,” Carmy says. “Syd, you clean this up.”

“But—” You hear her start to protest. 

“You spilled it, you clean it,” he cuts through, decisive and firm.

“I know, but Richie—”

“Clean it,” he repeats, firmer, darker this time, and there's a beat of silence. 

“...Yes, chef.”

“I told you to step out,” Carmy tells who you assume is Richie. 

“You're just gonna let her—”

“Step the fuck outside right fucking now!” Carmy screams, his patience shooting away like a gunshot. You feel something shrivel inside you, and not in a good way. “Do the one fucking thing you're good at and get out of the fucking way!”

Yeah…definitely not in a good way.

From what you hear, it sounds like Richie has to get wrestled outside by someone, whom you're not sure. After another minute, Carmy returns to the front. 

“I'm sorry about that. Fucking—” He drags a hand across his face. You swear his eyebags have grown heavier in the 5 minutes he was in the kitchen. “What was I saying?”

“Um, I was saying that I could start tomorrow,” you remind him, although the vigor you had just stated it with is a bit fizzled out. 

“Right. Okay. Uh—” He pats his hands on his apron, searching for something. A pen and paper appear in his hands, and he scribbles something on it. This is when you notice his tattoos. A flower on the back of his hand. Surprising. “You're hired. Here's the paperwork you need to fill out, along with the number and email you'll be hearing from me at.”

“What?” You take the sheets, but the smooth paper doesn't feel real in your hands. His handwriting is hasty and dark, like he was running out of time on a test. “I mean, I'm just surprised.”

“Do you not want it?”

“I want it,” you promise, and you feel your cheeks flush. This is a bad time to yet again notice how attractive he is. His pretty eyes, his nose. The little moles under his left eye. “Y-Yeah, I want the job.”

“Good.” He motions towards the sticky note again. “Come in at 8 am tomorrow. You'll be starting as a prep cook, which you've done before.”

“Okay. Okay, yeah, I'll be there.” The reality is setting in now, and an odd cocktail of relief, apprehension, and excitement is settling in your stomach. “Thank you so much.” I just got laid off from my job this morning, so this means a lot, you want to say, but it's too soon. You don't want to say anything that'll make him change his mind about whatever he sees in you. 

“Thank you,” he echoes back. “We need the help. I'll see you tomorrow.”

“See you,” you reply, and with that, the door rings behind you. A customer comes up to the counter, peering up at the menu. You figure this is your cue to leave. He's not looking at you anymore anyway. 

So, I got a job now, you update your friends, texting them on your way home on the metro. As the relieved congratulations come flying in, another remark seems to resound amongst all of them. 

I can't believe you got the job just like that. That place must be desperate, too, is roughly what they've all said. The thing is, they're not wrong. 

You managed to find someone more desperate than you in the job economy. Just one, but that was enough. It makes you think, though. You think about Carmy's weary blue eyes, his brief smile, and his hand tattoos. You wonder if it's just the restaurant that gives him that bone-deep exhaustion, or if it's a smaller part of a bigger picture. 

You think about it for the rest of your commute, you think about it as you smoke on the porch, you think about it as you lay in bed. You think about it as you fill out the paperwork, fingers tracing where Carmy's written his name, number, and email.

Carmen Berzatto

773-555-0901

So Carmy's a nickname, you think. Not about what type of boss he's going to be, not about what it's going to be like working under someone you are obviously attracted to. 

Maybe you should be more worried about this.

If it's bad, I'll just find another job, you tell yourself, and you foolishly believe it.

. . . . .

Your first day on the job starts with introductions. 

At least, that's about as much as you've figured out so far. When he sees you upon arrival, he pauses and stares at you like he's forgotten. Not a great start. Granted, he does snap out of it. That's when he tells you to follow him, which is where you currently find yourself. You're not sure where he's leading to, only that he's introducing you to others as you pass them by.

“They’re working with us starting today,” Carmy tells everyone. “They’re gonna be on prep.”

Right. So that's what you'll be doing. At least he told you that much yesterday.

The catalog of coworkers expands exponentially. You remember Sydney from yesterday, and to her credit, she apologizes about having you witness her fight with Richie, who conveniently isn't here yet. She seems the nicest out of all the bunch, so you decide to let it slide. 

Marcus is pretty nice, too. So are Ebra, Sweeps, Manny, Angel—everyone seems to be pretty alright. It’s obvious they’re standoffish by you being in their space. You find it hard to hold it against them. You’re not really sure how your relationships with them are going to pan out. There are only three that you’re particularly unsure on.

The first and obvious one is Richie. He came in eventually and didn’t give you the best impression, immediately talking over everyone and oozing arrogance. The only salvageable thing is that he’s not even a chef. At least you won’t have to be in the kitchen with him much. You want to avoid the honor of talking to him as much as possible.

Tina is next. She clearly doesn’t enjoy having someone new in the ecosystem, and she’s spent more time ignoring you than talking with you. As you understand it, she’s close to the rest of the staff since they’ve all been together for a while. Minus you and Syd, as you learn she’s only been there for a week. You think Tina will warm up to you…eventually.

Carmy is the last one, and he’s…he’s…

He’s something else.

He has you doing prep for most of the day. After introducing you to everyone and giving you a brief tour, he brings you to your station, scratched up stainless steel.

“You’re going to be cutting onions and carrots today for the stock. The vegetables are in the walk-in I showed you earlier, and when it’s done, it goes on the first shelf.” Carmy’s to your right, set up at his own station. You swear you keep your eyes focused on the vegetables, not his biceps in that shirt, but… “You should already know this, but label everything. I don’t want to see anything without a date. Got it?”

“Yes, chef,” you confirm, snapping out of it. He’s been flinging new information at you like it’s a war and he’s gunning to survive. But so are you. “I’ll do my best.”

“I expect as such.” He slides over a peeler for the carrots and some plastic bins for trash. “It’s just a stock, so don’t worry about an even cut. Just salvage whatever you can, cut off anything that doesn’t look good.” You nod. “Been a year or so since you did this, right?”

“Yeah. I cook regularly, but I’ll need to get back into the groove of things. And I will,” you add hastily. “I’ll combine them into this one when I'm done, right?” You ask, nudging a large plastic container. 

“Correct.” A brief smile flashes across his face. “You're already following quicker than I thought you would.” You’re not sure if he means it as an insult or a compliment, so you decide to take it as the latter. 

“I haven't even chopped anything yet.”

“I know.” His expression is flat again. You resist a laugh.  He plucks an onion from the bin, puts it in front of you. “Show me a rough dice.”

The knife is sharp. You notice this as you place careful cuts into the onion. It's not quite as sharp as his unnerving gaze, which layers pressure upon pressure. It builds up like a pastry puff, thin multitudes of layers expanding upward. You need to be good. You need to be perfect. You don't want to disappoint him, not this early, even though you've barely been here for an hour. 

It's just a shitty old sandwich shop, you tell yourself, but your dicing is uneven and you briefly think about accidentally chopping your fingers off. 

“Not my best work,” you admit, vaguely breathless. Carmy hasn't said anything yet.

“It'll do.” You're waiting for him to say something else, give you some tips, but he doesn't. Irritation prickles to the tips of your fingers. “I'll be back to check in on you later.”

You stand there, motionless and shocked in the aftermath. You're not sure what you expected from today, but being abandoned an hour in was not at the top of your bucket list. 

Man, what the fuck, you think, the thought clear in the silence around you, and that's the last time you can hear yourself think for the rest of the shift. 

There's a prepared stock from yesterday simmering on the stove behind you. It's flanked by boiling potatoes and reducing tomato sauce. The heat from it’s searing your back like a steak, slowly drawing lines of moisture all over the surface of your shirt. Your coworkers constantly invade your space to check on them. You suppose it's not their fault that the kitchen, but it's still irritating. They're also all shouting over each other like it's a competition.

“Who the fuck touched my stock—”

“No one touched your stupid shitty stock—”

“I am trying to find this cutting board, will someone please—”

You move on from the onions with only a thin layer of sweat collected at your hairline. 

Your hands are shaky as they peel the carrots. You know you're not getting as efficient of a shave as you could be, but the caffeine crash from your morning coffee is getting to you. You don't remember the last time you drank water. A cigarette sounds nice. 

“Clean your station, chef.” Carmy materializes next to you. You hear him before you see his hands scooping carrot shavings into a plastic container. It shocks you so much that you almost cut yourself. 

“Sorry, chef,” you reply reflexively. You look down at your station, straightening your tools. You want to ask if you can take your break, but you don't want to look any weaker than you do already. “So, uh, do we get 30's here?”

When you don't get a response, your head snaps up, irritation on the tip of your tongue, but he's not even there. 

Fucking hell, you think, annoyance simmering into something akin to anger, and you go back to finishing your prep. 

You don't see him for another hour after that. It's not even him that tells you to take your 15, it's Syd, who noticed you were half-way through your shift and on the verge of…something. 

“You finished the prep he gave you, right?” Syd had asked. You told her you finished and put it back in the walk-in. “Yeah, then go take your break. Did he not tell you we get 15's here?”

“He didn't,” you say, too annoyed to bother hiding the disdain in your face. Sydney just sighs, rolling her eyes, and you think you love her. 

“Asshole.” She makes a shooing motion at you then. “Go, get a break from this madness. It'll get better, I promise.”

You're not sure if you believe her, but you do step outside to take your break. 

As you stand outside in the back, you take note of tightness in your body that you weren't even aware of. The cigarette smoke calms you, loosens you. Or maybe you owe that to getting out of that hot kitchen. 

This time, you see Carmy before you hear him. You turn to the door to see him stepping out, a pack of smokes in his hand. 

“Hey,” he says. 

“Hey,” you reply.

“Everythin’ goin’ okay so far?”

“Yeah. It's fine.” Other than everything.

“Really?” His surprise just pisses you off further. “Well, that's good.”

“...Yeah.” You decide if your mouth stays unoccupied, you'll start cussing him out, so you put your cigarette back in your mouth. 

“You're bleeding.”

“What?”

“I said, you're bleeding. Your hand.” 

You look down at your hand holding the cigarette, and sure enough, there's a thin, shallow cut oozing blood near one of your knuckles. 

“Shit,” you mutter, quickly sucking the skin into your mouth. When you pull it back, the red refills. “I didn't even notice.”

“Let's get a bandaid on that.” He puts his unlit cigarette back into his pack. “I have some in my office.”

That's how you end up in the enclosed, dark space of his office, seated on the only chair as he leans back against his cluttered desk. The dingy first-aid kit is propped on top of a shaky stack of papers. Carmy takes out a bandaid from it and peels it open.

“Thought I gave you a sharp knife, it shouldn't have cut you like that,” Carmy comments. 

“It was sharp,” you correct. “Guess I just fucked up.”

“It happens,” he says, which surprises you. He keeps surprising you. You just can't seem to figure him out. “Let me see the cut.”

You only realize that he's putting the bandaid on you when he cradles your hand in his. His hands are warm. 

He has so many hand tattoos. You notice the letters on his fingers first, the SOU curled around your palm. You notice the other tattoo on the back of his hand next, since that's the one carefully placing the bandaid on you. 

He wraps it around your finger just right. Not too tight, not too loose. 

“Is that too tight?” He asks, almost in a whisper. He's so close, and he smells like kitchen oil, cigarette smoke, and a faded cologne you can't place. 

“No, it's okay.” You don't mean to talk so quietly back, but you do. You can't stop staring at his fingers. They're long and marked up with silver scars and burns. If you look carefully, you can place the locations of his callouses. 

“Good.” You don’t know why he does it, but he runs his thumb across the seams of where your bandaid overlaps. Surely it’s just to secure it further…surely.

“Thank you.” He’s still holding your hand. You’re unsure if you’re imagining the tension in the air or not. Everything feels more intimate behind closed doors, especially in low light. “I could’ve done it myself.”

“It’s easier if another person does it.” He lets go, finally, and you try not to mourn the loss. “Did you finish prepping for the stock?”

“What you gave me, yeah.”

“Alright. Let’s go take a look at it, then,” he says, like that isn’t the most anxiety inducing thing you’ve ever heard. 

“R-Right now?”

“As opposed to?” He opens the door to his office, and the muffled noises in the kitchen become sharp and clear again, like emerging from underwater. “Come on.”

You don’t know how it happens, but Carmy gets into five separate arguments on the way to the walk-in. FIVE. To be fair, two of them are from Richie.

“I’ve been telling you guys to sharpen your knives, don’t fucking treat them like this,” Carmy shouts, trudging over to someone’s station. “You see this? This is exactly what we should not be doing! How many times have I said this today?! Don’t—“

“Stop going into my office when I’m not there,” Carmy hisses at Richie next. “You keep fucking up where the papers are put, and I can’t find anything! It’s enough of a mess as it is! No—I said—cousin, listen to me—“

“Everyone shut the hell up, clean your stations, and get the fuck back to work!” Is the last thing he shouts before slamming the door to the walk-in behind you. He slams it so hard the wire racks rattle. You decide not to comment. 

The difference in sound is eerie. You’re always surprised by how sound proof these walk-in fridges are.

“Is this the prep you did today?” Carmy asks, touching one of the clear plastic bins. Sure enough, it’s the one you placed there a moment ago.

“Yeah, it is.” You chew the inside of your cheek. You were hoping he would be in an okay mood when he checked your work. It seemed like he was at first, but now?

“It's on the wrong shelf.”

“What?” You stare at it sitting on the first shelf, just like he told you to. “You told me to put it on the first shelf.”

“It goes on the second shelf.” He's pissed, and there's ice in your veins. He huffs as he takes the container and moves it one shelf up, slamming it down unnecessarily. “I told you—second shelf.”

“You literally said it went on the first shelf.” The ice has melted, and it's boiling. 

“No, I didn't.” You wanna punch him. Badly. You know what you heard. “And you forgot to label it.”

“Shit.” That, you did forget. You’re not above owning up to your mistakes, unlike him. “I'm sorry, I was—”

“We always need stuff like this to be labeled,” he interrupts, rude and abrupt. You can hear the thinly veiled anger in his voice. “I told you.”

“I know, I just—“

“Don’t make excuses. Just do better.”

“It’s my first fucking day!” You snap, finally, and it’s like a firecracker in the dead of night. “I don’t expect to be coddled, but I’ve only been here for a couple hours, and you’re just—“

“I told you to put a label on it, to put it on the second shelf, and you didn’t do either of those things.” This is a different type of anger. It’s quiet, contained. Dangerous. And with your outburst, it’s trembling at the edges. 

“You literally hired me yesterday!” You’re exasperated. “You looked at my resume for like two seconds before hiring me, and you’re mad that I’m messing up?”

“You had enough credentials on your resume. You told me you could work well under pressure and learn quickly. Is that true or not?”

“It is true! You just have to give me a chance first!”

“I just gave you a chance,” Carmy snaps back, “and you fucked it up.”

“Oh my god. I just—“ You take a step back. “I don’t have to take this shit.”

“Are you quitting already?”

“I wasn’t going to.” You move towards the door. “But maybe I should, before you fire me. Doesn't seem like you want me, anyway.”

You were planning on exiting the walk-in after that, to leave on cue, but the door doesn’t budge. You and Carmy notice it at the same time. 

Suddenly, there is a new problem.

“Fuck,” Carmy curses under his breath. The two of you are pushing against the door, but it won’t budge. He slams his fist on it and calls out. “Guys, the walk-in door is stuck! Can any of you open it from out there?”

“Carmen?” Richie's voice is muffled from the other end. There's the sound of frustrated efforts on the other end. “It's not fuckin’ budging!”

“Fuck,” Carmy repeats, seething, and you agree. “Call Fak!”

“I already did! He’s gonna be here in 20!”

“20 minutes?!” Carmy shouts. You close your eyes and sigh, audibly. “Don't we have a screwdriver in here or something?! Just take the hinges off!”

“Why do you think I called Fak?! Shut the hell up and be patient!”

“Tell him to hurry the fuck up,” Carmy barks, and that's where their conversation ends. 

“Just what I needed right now,” you mutter under your breath. Carmy's not looking at you, eyes boring into the door that's trapping the both of you in here with each other. “To be locked in a room with you.”

It's quiet for a minute before he speaks, cutting the silence open.

“...I do want you, y'know.”

“You—huh?” He said it so quietly you're not sure if it was a hallucination. 

“We need you here.” He's still not looking at you. “This place—it's fucked.  We don't have enough hands.”

“I can tell,” you say, and you mean for it to come out bitter, but it's soft. Naively so. 

“I want you here. I do.” He doesn't need to say it like that. You don't want to believe it, neither his words or the way hearing it makes you feel. “I need you.”

“Can you at least look at me when you say it?” 

You’re not sure why you say it. You instantly recognize it for how needy it sounds, but you don't get the luxury of embarrassment. Carmy's already turning to face you. 

“I want you,” he repeats, voice low. You think about the paint you'd need to mix to match the color of his eyes. Blue, white, and the slightest bit of orange to desaturate it. You're not sure what type of orange, though. “I need you.”

“Fuck,” you mutter, despite yourself, and it's too late.

“Are you gonna do better?” You didn't even register him moving closer to you. When did your back end up against the shelves?

“I’m gonna do better,” you whisper, “if you stop being such an asshole.”

“It won't happen again,” he whispers back, and you recognize it for the lie that it is. 

You don't really care, though. 

His face is so close to yours that you can see the separate specks of colors in his iris. You watch his gaze fall from your eyes to your lips, and it lingers there before rising again. Any shreds of self respect or control you were clinging onto disintegrate. It doesn't matter if he really means what it says. All that matters is getting your mouth on his.  

“Okay,” you say, a whisper of foolish acceptance, and you're kissing him. 

Or is he kissing you? You don't know who leaned forward first. It's not important. 

“I saw you staring at my hands today,” Carmy says against your lips. Spit makes your mouths slide easily against each other. “Yesterday, too.”

“What the—no you didn't,” you gasp, appalled, heat rising in your face, “how did you—?”

“You're right. I didn't,” he admits with a cheeky grin. You’re really gonna punch him now. 

“God, you're just,” you mutter, “you're such an asshole.”

“I know.” At first, you think he's being smug, but there's a surprising sense of remorse under it. You don't have time to think about it, though, not when his hand is cradling your face. There's no way he doesn't feel how hot your face is. 

“What're you…?” His thumb passes over your lower lip, and the words fall away. 

“Tell me you want this.” Your eyes flicker to his hand, then to his face. His other hand is at the top of your jeans, fingers resting on the edge of your waistband. Excited arousal hits your gut, sizzling like browning butter, warm and toasted. His eyes are dark, caramel on the verge of burning. “If you don't, I'll pretend like this never happened. I'll never touch you again.”

I'll never touch you again, he says, like it's not the last thing you'll ever want. 

“I want this,” you murmur. “Touch me. Please.”

“Good,” Carmy praises, one quiet word enough to sear your insides with heat, blue flame on the underside of a pan. “That's what I thought.”

His hands slip behind you to untie your apron. The strings fall to your sides, and you tug it hastily up and over your head. It falls to the floor next to you. Surely that's a gigantic health hazard, but Carmy's the one who throws it there, so you don't say anything. You lower your gaze to his fingers unbuttoning your pants. The sight of it makes you woozy. You take note of his other tattoos, noticing the letters on his fingers. You watch as the stabbed hand made of ink on his right disappears under the cloth of your underwear.

“Oh,” you breathe. You didn't expect his hand to be so warm, even though you had just felt his heated palm gentle on your cheek.

“You're wet.” The tip of his index finger dips into where your hot folds separate. It strokes at the fluid that's pooled at your entrance, coaxing it out. “When did this happen?”

“Fuck you is when,” you bite back, but it's all bark. “I don't know.”

“Sure,” he agrees, but not really. His condescending smile shouldn't be hot, it really shouldn't, but your pussy throbs against his hand, and he smiles knowingly. “All you need is me to talk and you get wet, is that it?”

“I—” His finger rises upward, splitting you open and flicking at your clit. You buck against his hand. “Don't ask me a question and then touch me like that,” you hiss, horribly turned on.

“Mm, sorry.” It's barely an apology. You throw your head back in frustration. “I didn't mean to.”

“I have a hard time believing that,” you pant. He's pushed your slick up your pussy to your clit, two slick fingers sliding back and forth on your stiff nub. The pads of his calloused fingers are rubbing you almost where you're too sensitive. 

“Then don't. I don't care what you think of me.” You think he's about to get his fingers inside of you, and your breath hitches, but he pulls back. You regret the frustrated whine that is just audible enough in the back of your throat. He does it again, just barely pushing the tips of fingers in before pulling away.

“You—why—do you want me to beg or something?” Your clenched hands raise by your sides to grip the collar of his white shirt and yank him forward. The shock that flashes across his face gives you a sick sense of satisfaction.

“It wouldn't hurt,” he mumbles. Seeing him stagger like this, even if briefly, sends a rush through your head.

“Is that what it's gonna take for you to get those fucking fingers inside me?” 

Like a coward, instead of answering, he leans an inch forward and kisses you. Or maybe that was his answer. That's when he sinks two fingers inside you, long and thick, pushing until your wet pussy's pressed tight against his palm. 

You moan, a pathetic thing, and Carmy swallows the sound of it.

“You're already begging,” he says quietly. He pulls his fingers out. You whine in protest, desperate and angry pleas on the tip of your tongue, but then he's pushing inside again.

That's the last moment of reprieve you get. His fingers start thrusting into you faster, dragging out slick each time he pulls them out. Paranoia suddenly screams that you’re gonna wet the front of your pants at this rate. The aching pleasure is louder than your fear, though. You can’t help the way his fingers are making you moan.

“More,” you plead, “give me another, I can take it.” Your hips are thrusting forward to meet his hand when they push inside. Your clit slaps against the heel of his palm, and you chase the friction. He must notice, because when he obliges and stretches you out with a third finger, he grinds the heel of his palm into your clit.

“You have to be quiet,” he says lowly when you keep moaning. “They’re gonna hear you.” 

“I—I’m trying,” you whine. You’re squeezing so tight down on him. You feel so full. “Your fingers—“

“You’re the one who asked for more.” He slaps his other hands firmly over your mouth. It silences your sound of surprise. “You said you could take it, so here’s what’s gonna happen.” His fingers are slamming into your now, and your hole spasms around them in pleasure. “You’re gonna come on my fingers, and you’re gonna be quiet. Understand?”

You know how soundproof the walk-in is. You had just witnessed it moments ago. But Carmy’s warnings do something fierce to you, bypassing logic straight into anxious, desperate arousal. He’s right, you think. You need to be quiet. You nod quickly in response, so he takes your consent and sprints with it.

To your credit, you try to be quiet. You said you would. But there’s only so much you can do when he’s fingering you so hard your legs are shaking. You’re whimpering into his hand, the sounds muffled.  Your own moans, his heavy breathing, and the slick sound of your pussy getting railed by his fingers—that’s what you listen to as you come.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing down tight,” Carmy hisses, and for an irrational second  you’re afraid you’re hurting him, but one look at his starved expression changes your mind. His three wide fingers are fucking you slowly through your wildly contracting orgasm. In one of his palms, you're oozing slick, and in his other palm, you're smearing with spit.

You should be thinking about how bad of an idea this all is, having sex with your boss. It’s too bad your orgasm is so potent you can’t think at all.

You lean your head back against the cold metal railings of the wire racks behind you. It’s uncomfortable, but a part of it feels good against the coiling heat that’s unraveling in your stomach. The air around you is cold, but you’re hot, far too hot. You don’t remember the last time you’ve finished this hard.

He finally pries his hand off your mouth once you've stopped clamping down on his fingers. His hand lingers at your face before wiping it on the side of his jeans. His expression has this unreadable, unnamed intensity to it, and you can't tell where that ends and where the hunger starts. Although he is looking very, very starved.

His hand that's tucked into your underwear tugs it upward as it leaves, pulling the fabric taut against your pussy. It sticks like paper mache with the glue of your orgasm, molded to your shape. You make an aroused noise that's a mixture of surprise and annoyance.

You're about to complain, something along the lines of “was that really necessary”, but then your eyes are zeroed in on the sheen of his fingers that were fucking you.

“Don't,” you start, suddenly worried he's going to wipe them on his jeans again, but you don't get to finish. He's pushing his index finger into your mouth, and you taste yourself on his skin.

“Good,” Carmy whispers when he feels your tongue wrapping around him. Fuck, hearing him say it like that does awful things to you.

You don't know why you accept it without a fight, but if you're being honest with yourself, this is exactly what you wanted. You start to suck, but he doesn't linger. When he pulls his finger out, your parted lips expect the other two, but he sucks them into his mouth instead. 

God. What do you even say to that? He even has the nerve to look you in the eyes as he pops his cleaned fingers out of his mouth. 

“Let me touch you,” you decide to say instead, because if you think about him and his fingers in—anyway. 

“It's fine. I don't need it.” He's oddly cagey all of a sudden. 

“Let me return the favor, please,” you insist, even adding in some good manners. It seems to still him for a moment, giving you enough time to lift his apron.

Fuck, you think to yourself, the word resounding like an alarm inside your head. His jeans are tented so tightly it looks painful. All this from touching me, you realize. You can see the shape of his bulge under the denim. The silhouette is vague, but...

It's big.

“Carmy? You still in there?”

A voice you don't recognize calls out beyond the door. As soon as you both hear it, Carmy jerks away. You mourn the loss only for a moment before you remember yourself. You're scrambling to get your pants buttoned and your apron over your head. 

“Yeah, I'm still in here,” Carmy shouts back, instantaneously irritable. His back is turned to you, and you want to feel those muscles tensing under your palm. “About fuckin’ time!”

“You're welcome, by the way! I could've left you in here to freeze and die a tragic death!”

“It's not just me in here, Fak.” A beat of silence. “Are you opening it?”

“Am I fucking—Jesus Christ, Carmen, just give me a second! I'm working my magic!”

That shuts Carmy up. Almost. He sighs before turning to look at you. 

“Sorry for getting us stuck in here.” The apology is equally as surprising as the softness of which he speaks. “Shitty first day, huh?”

“It's cool. It's not your fault.” Other than all the shit that was completely your fault, you think, remembering the way you were shouting at each other just a moment ago. “Kinda shitty though, yeah.”

“Yeah.” He sighs again. “If you wanna leave, I don't blame you.”

“I thought I wasn't getting fired.”

“You're not,” he says quickly. “But I'm—this place is a shitshow.” You're not sure which he really means to say, but you hear both. The restaurant, and him especially, are both complete messes. That much was obvious from the beginning. “So if you wanna take off, just…” He shrugs. “Just go.”

Maybe that'd be for the best, if you left. As far as first days go, you've already broken every rule in the book. You messed up your first task, got into an argument with your boss, and then had sex with him. Nothing about this place is particularly inviting, either. This restaurant wears its dysfunction on its sleeve, unabashed in all the ways it lacks. You had left the kitchen with ringing ears from all the noise and a cut on your hand you didn't even notice. 

But here you are. You're not running. Maybe it's because of the fact that you need to pay rent. Maybe it's knowing that just one more pair of hands here could really make a difference. Maybe you're just desperate to keep food on the table. Maybe it's Carmen Berzatto, beautiful, haunted, and angry. Maybe it's all of that, a combined whole that's become greater than the sum of its parts.

Or maybe it's just that now that you've kissed him, had a taste of him, you refuse to let go. Maybe the reason is as shallow as that. 

Carmy's been waiting for you to speak, tired eyes searching your own. You're still not sure what exact colors you need to perfectly recreate the blue you're staring at. 

“Almost done!” Fak shouts. “Just one more hinge!”

“Heard,” Carmy shouts back. He hasn't taken his eyes off you. “So? What's it gonna be? Are you staying or not?”

Blood orange, you think all of a sudden. That's the orange you would need to make the perfect blue to match his eyes. Just a little bit—that's all you would need.

“I'm staying,” you tell him. “I need to pay rent, after all.”

Yeah. That's the reasoning you're settling on. Rent.

“Right. Of course.” There's a glimpse of that gentle smile you've seen flashes of today. It fades away as quickly as it came. “After this, I'm gonna have you learn how to check produce next.”

“Okay, sounds good,” you say as naturally as you can, given the tonal whiplash.

“There should be some that's about to get washed. I'll show you where that is.” The door's shifting. “But before that…” He lowers his voice, leans in close. Is he about to kiss you?

“W-What?”

“Get a new apron from my office. That one's dirty.” Beams of light stream through the entrance of the walk-in, forced wide open. “You need to keep your apron clean, chef.”

YOU WERE THE ONE WHO THREW IT ON THE GROUND, you want to scream. Just when you thought he started being nice, he does something that makes you want to grab him by the collar and shake him.

But you can't. The walk-in's open again, and you see your coworkers crowded by the door. 

“Yes, chef,” you reply, and the words taste bitter on your tongue.

~

@zorrasucia

[myspacebrat]

Fooled round & fell in love epilogue

summary: You and Eddie go on your first date and he tries to make it the most magical night of your life. But what happens when the last person you’d expect pops up at your house, and confrontation ensues?

warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI 18+, phone sex, diiirty talk, cocky but cute eddie, lots of flufff, confrontation, drunk Randy, cussing, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, slight anal play, slight dom Eddie, daddy kink, spit play

A/N: I’m so happy I get to add one of my favorite songs of all time to this fic, it just fit way too perfect. I had so much fun writing this little series, I can’t wait to write more in the future 🖤

It’s been three weeks since Eddie officially asked you to be his. It’s been great so far, but Eddie had just started a new job at Penske’s auto shop, so you haven’t been spending as much time together as you had hoped. He did call you every night and would tell you about his day, how much he misses you, how much he loves you and things he would do to you if you were in bed with him.

So the distance wasn’t all bad.

Except for the fact that he hasn’t touched you since the night everything went to hell. Every time you’d try to take things further he would tell you he wanted to take you out first, do things the right way, which yes you appreciated in the beginning, but now you thought was absolutely ridiculous.

Sure the phone sex was nice, but after getting the real thing you were addicted.

Spending several moments playing back the images of his fingers on you, your waist, in your hair, inside you. You were going crazy, which led you to this moment in the shower with your fingers deep inside you trying to hit the same spot Eddie hits with ease, you were having no such luck, so you begrudgingly say to hell with it, and turn the water off. Grabbing the towel that was draped over the curtain rod, you securely fasten it around your chest.

As you open the door, your phone rings. You look over at your alarm clock 8:30pm he was always on the dot, every night.

“Hello” you say in your best sultry voice

“Well hello to you, sweet thing” he says back, you can hear the smirk on his lips

“Hi, baby how was your day?” Something about being on the phone with Eddie every night talking about the unholiest of things you’d like to do to each other when you finally do have sex again, just brings out the seductress in you, voice laced in an almost whine.

Eddie found it so sexy, cock instantly perking up as soon as he heard “hello”

“Well it’s much better now that I get to hear your sexy voice” he says back with a husky tone

“Glad I can be of service” you say back with a giggle

“Hey, I have good news actually” he excitedly says

“Oh really?” You say as your brows shoot up in intrigue

“Yeah, I have this weekend off, and I was wondering if you wanted to go on that date we’ve been talking about?”

You instantly get giddy almost jumping up and down

“Yeah, yes of course I do!” You say back excitedly

“Okay sweet, well let’s do Saturday maybe uh, I’ll pick you up around 6-6:30? Does that work?”

“Yeah that works perfect, actually more than perfect. My mom’s going out of town to some kind of sister’s retreat with my aunts” you pause before you sing song “so I’ll have the place to myself”

“Ya’know I’ve always imagined climbing through your window and fucking you into your mattress, so you’ll be making my dreams come true, babe”he chuckles

“Mmm, I’ve had that very same fantasy” you say back in your sultriest tone yet

“Well now we have to make it happen, don’t we?” ugh you could cum die just by the tone of his voice

As you laugh back, he instantly kicks it up a notch

“What are you wearing?” You already know where this is headed, and you cannot be more excited

“I just got out of the shower, so just a towel” you respond

“Jesus fuck baby, if I was there I’d rip it off of you and throw you on the bed, spread your legs nice and wide and just devour that sweet pussy.” “Fuck I miss her so much!” He whines

“Yeah? Would you let me sit on your face?” You say back as you remove your towel and climb into bed.

“My face is your throne, you can sit on it anytime you want, princess” he retorts back as he takes out his cock, spits on his palm and starts stroking it.

“Mm, I like the sound of that” you say with a giggle

“What are you doing right now?” Eddie asks

“Well” you drag out “I took my towel off, so now I’m naked in bed, talking to my sexy boyfriend” you hear Eddie groan at your words.

“Fuck baby, tell me more” he says as he bites his lip, hard enough to leave lasting indents in his skin.

“Now i’m gunna suck on my finger, get it nice and wet before I start rubbing myself” you put your finger in your mouth, dramatically releasing it with a pop.

“Mmhm, get it nice and wet baby. You know what I’d do if I was there?” He asks “I would make you feel so good, princess I would eat your pussy so good” he growls through clenched teeth

“Yes please, I need that so bad, eddie!” you mewl

“Mmm, you wanna be my little slut?” He groans

“I’m already your little slut” you can’t help the moans leaving your mouth, hearing Eddies and the slick sounds of his fist stroking his cock is giving you everything you need to hit your high

“Fuck yes you are, say it again, say your my little slut, y/n”

“I’m daddy’s little slut” you’re almost at your peak so you decide to up the dirty talk, knowing how much he loves when you call him daddy

“Fuuuuuck” he groans out as his cum spurts out covering his fist

“Oh my god, Eddie I’m cumming!” You squeal so high pitched it’d be a miracle if no one in your house heard

The line stays silent while you and Eddie catch your breaths and come down from your respective highs.

“God damn baby, we’re gunna have so much fun on Saturday. But, first I wanna wine and dine you. Ya know, butter you up real nice?” he says

“Where were you suggesting we go?” Voice still a little shaky from the intense orgasm you just had

“That my dear, is a surprise”

“Surprises make me anxious, but I’ll trust you. So what should I wear?”

“Don’t be anxious, baby. It’ll be a night you never forget, I promise. I’m gunna make it as romantic as possible” his words make your heart full and stomach flutter

“Hmm, I think a dress would work or a skirt” he chuckles

“Eddie Munson, are you insinuating you want me in something with easy access?” You squint your eyes in an accusatory manner.

“Absolutely” he howls with laughter, “no but I just want you to be comfortable, okay sweet girl?”

“Okay, comfortable but cute, got it!” You giggle

“Hey, can you stay on the phone with me until I fall asleep?” Eddie asks

And you can’t help but think that’s the cutest thing you’ve ever heard, and you do, you stay on the phone all night while you both listen to each others light snores

As Saturday quickly comes along, you wake up in the best mood, so ready for your date with Eddie. You knew he was trying really hard at this relationship stuff. Growing up he always made fun of guys doing sweet things for their girlfriends stating “love was for posers” which always made you roll your eyes, so the fact that Eddie is doing all the thing he said he never would for you, had you on cloud nine.

As you got out of bed, you made the decision to dedicate your morning to pampering yourself: take a bubble bath, shave all necessary areas, paint your hands and toes red, maybe even do a face mask. Once you were all finished and nails were dry, you went downstairs to have some breakfast, clean up and unload the dishwasher your moms been asking you to.

Going back up to your room you turn on some music, and start taking every little black dress out of your closet to try on, you landed on a little silk number with spaghetti straps that stopped mid thigh with slits on both sides, and instead of heels you opted for knee high boots.

After just relaxing for a few hours, you started getting ready. Hair, makeup, body lotion, perfume. You wanted to look and feel perfect for him.

After everything was done and you were putting the last touches on your outfit, you heard Eddie pulling up with his loud engine and even louder music.

Your stomach instantly doing flips, you grab your little black shoulder bag and head to the door, as you open it you can’t help but to feel tingles throughout your body, in some places more then others

Eddie’s eyes widen at the sight of you in your little black dress. He internally groans at how good you look, but you were equally losing your shit.

He had on a black button up, buttoned half way with an exodus “bonded by blood” shirt peaking out underneath, black jeans, boots and his hair was down, you could tell he had put some kind of products in it to make it look more tame than usual and he kept all of his accessories on, you were really happy about that, it was still all very Eddie.

He pulls white roses out from behind his back, you remember telling him they were your favorite of all the roses a couple valentines ago, you couldn’t believe he remembered that tiny detail of something you said in passing, you were already swooning and you hadn’t even left for the date yet.

“Hey baby” he says as he hands you the flowers, you take them while he grabs you by the waist, holding you in place while he kisses your lips.

“Wow, you look… wow” you both laugh at his flustered nerves

“You look wow too, babe” you bite your lip as you check him out from head to toe

Giving him one more kiss before you leave to put the flowers in water.

“M’lady” he says once you’ve returned, holding out his elbow so you’ll intertwine arms, as he begins walking you out to his van

He opens the door for you, helping you in and then strolls over to his side with the cheesiest smile on his face, it was so contagious you couldn’t help yourself but to mirror it

“You ready to go?” He says while looking over at you, sending you a wink after you nod

“Alright baby, buckle up”

Sometime during the ride he put his hand on your thigh, you both continuously taking little glances at each other from your peripheral‘s, music playing softly in the background which was rare for Eddie

The van pulls up to a restaurant you and Eddie had been to one other time before. As you’re waiting for him to open your door, the memories come flooding back

You remember that day so well,

You both were heading to a local show in Indianapolis for this band called iced earth, while on your way Eddie’s van overheated, so he pulled into a random parking lot. Eddie got out and popped the hood trying to figure out the problem, he realized it had something to do with the cooling system and he’d have to let it sit to get the gage back down. Luckily the parking lot you both pulled into belonged to a cute little restaurant, you and Eddie were starving at this point, so you both headed inside. You guys ate and talked for hours. It didn’t even seem like Eddie was disappointed to miss the show, he seemed to be having a great time even though you knew he was excited about it. You also remember a lot of shared glances and stares that lingered a little longer than usual and hands brushing against each others creating what felt like electricity to course through your body. You knew you felt something, and now that he’s brought you back, its making you question whether he felt it too.

Once inside, Eddie gives his last name and the waitress walks you both to the table you had sat at 2 years ago. It was a secluded little table in the back by a big arched window. The table was covered by white cloth, silverware, salad plates and your menus, with a single candle held in a beautiful glass holder right in the middle, it was all more romantic then you remembered.

But that could be, because you did everything to fight your feelings at that time.

Eddie scooted out your chair for you and pushed you in, as you thanked him he made his way to his side, sitting down and picking up his menu

he looked at you as he said

“Do you remember when we came here?”

Of course you did.

“I do, that was a really good night” you say

“It was, it was a great night” he says back as he eyes the way you lick your lips

“I’m impressed, Munson” you say as you pick up the wine glass filled with iced water and take a sip

“I wasn’t expecting this at all”

“Well, I’m full of surprises baby” he says while he shoots you a wink

You both order your food and as you ate the conversation was great, almost nothing had changed in your relationship since getting together, other then the flirting being amped up. Eddie always flirted with you but this was on a whole other level. He also grabbed your hand over the table and kept telling you how beautiful you looked, and how he couldn’t wait to get his hands on you

He made you feel like a teenage girl with her first crush, ironically he was your first teenage crush.

Eddie was really impressing you. You couldn’t believe this was the same guy that told you, he enjoyed fucking girls from the back so he didn’t have to look at them, or have any kind of connection other then a quick fuck, but that was high school Eddie, this was your Eddie and you couldn’t continue to hold onto that old image when he was showing you so much more

As you both finish with your food, the waitress comes over to ask if you saved room for dessert. Eddie looks at you silently telling you it was your decision but you were too full for anything else, as Eddie paid the bill and left a tip on the table you both walked out hand in hand and fingers intertwined, once you walked to your side of the van, Eddie pulls you back to him and grabs your cheek as he bring you closer to connect your lips, you kiss up against his van for what felt like 5 minutes, before he opened your door for you and held out a hand to help you inside.

You expected to head back to your house but Eddie had other plans.

“Where are we going?” You say while looking around, but realizing it was too late to recognize any of your surroundings

“Just sit tight, princess. You’ll see in a sec”

You can’t tell if your anticipation is nerves or excitement.

As you continue to wonder, you feel the van come to a stop. Before you know it Eddie is grabbing a blanket out of the back and heading to open your door for you, as you hop down from the van you look around, he’s taken you to a park surrounded by woods with the most beautiful view of the night sky. Eddie lays a blanket out on the grassy field and throws a couple pillows he brought from his room, on top while taking out a thicker throw blanket just in case you got cold, he really thought of everything.

As he’s setting everything up he tells you to pick a tape to play in the van, you open his glove compartment and go through the handful of tapes. After rifling through you finally see the yellow cover reading “screaming for vengeance” and you instantly knew the perfect song to play, a song you’d listen to at night when you’d dream of a life where Eddie liked you the way you liked him.

You pop the tape in, skipping to the eleventh song on the album

Once Eddie hears the first few notes he turns to look at you with the biggest smile, that made your insides wanna melt, it’s like this song meant to him what it meant to you

When I saw your face

I became a prisoner of your eyes

And I would do just anything to stay and be with you

“Good choice” he says as he sits down on the blanket, he looks at you and taps the spot next to him, signaling you to sit down

You know there are times

When I let myself wonder

As I was going under

you pulled me back to earth

You take your spot next to him and he wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer to his side, as he looks into your eyes, almost like he wanted to say so much, but didn’t know where to start, instead he looks up into the sky at all the stars, leaving you wondering what was going on inside his head

Don’t you hear me crying

Take me in your arms again

Tell me that your tryin or is our love a lie

Love is blind

And love deceives you

You came along and captured me

Now I’m a prisoner of your eyes

“You know I use to listen to this song and think about you, was so convinced that this was my song for you, it held everything I had ever wanted to say” you say with glassy eyes

He took his eyes off the sky to look over at you, giving you a look with so much adoration, it gave you goosebumps

“I listened to this song for a week straight, when you told me you were going out on a date with that Josh kid from junior year” he says as he smirks and looks back up at the sky, his grip on you tightening

As each day goes by

I’ve given up completely

Trapped myself inside your heart

And thrown away the key

“You’ve liked me since junior year?” You ask almost too stunned to speak

“I mean, it wasn’t that simple, baby. I did all I could to push those feelings down, I knew I liked you yes, but i had my head so far up my ass with the “fuck love, fuck relationships mentality I had, I was almost too proud to admit I wanted you to be mine, but y/n if I could go back, you’d have been mine for a long time” he says as his eyes begin to match yours

“Well I’m yours now, Eddie” you say as you cup his cheek and turn his head towards yours

Only time will tell

If I can live without you

Can you see into the future?

Will you ever set me free?

You lean in and kiss him, his hand coming to slot itself at the back of your neck and in your hair, you deepen the kiss as you slide your tongue into his mouth, the kiss starts to get heated until Eddie pulls away, you whine as you try to chase his lips

“Patience baby, patience” he says while putting a finger up

“I want you so bad, please” you whine

He looks over at you and grabs your chin, turning your head so you can meet his eyes

“I said patience” he says in a dominant tone that was doing you no favors

You nodded your head in understanding

“Good girl” he says back in the same tone

You were sure your panties were soaked at this point

“Trust me baby, this is killing me too. If I was the old me I’d take you into the back of my van and fuck the shit out of you, but I want to be different with you, I want to take my time on you, okay?”

“Okay” is all you can muster, after hearing his reasoning. But you can’t help but wish he would just fuck you right under the stars

He lays down on his pillow, slotting the arm furthest from you behind his head, while the other guides you to lay down next to him, he pulls you so close to him you can feel his heart beat in his chest and the faint feeling of a hard on he’s trying so hard to wish away

You snuggle into his chest, smelling his vanilla and tobacco cologne you got him, one year for his birthday

“You know you can fuck me under these stars and I wouldn’t look at you any different, or think you were only using me for one thing” you say trying your best to get what you want

“Y/n” he said with a warning, but his voice was losing all resolve

“Okay, okay” you say back with a giggle

“What’s got you so worked up, huh angel?” He says

“You” you whisper back

“Daddy’s got you all worked up?” He says back, knowing exactly what he was doing to you

“Mmhm” you groan with a nod of your head.

He brings his lips closer to your ear as he whispers

“Don’t worry, baby. Daddy’s gunna take you home and stretch that pussy out real nice, Kay? But for now, be in the moment with me, I wanna spend this time with you here just like this, in each others arms, we’ll get to that other stuff later”

You continue to nod while shooting him your best innocent look.

This desperation for him was intense, you’ve been in love with him for years and you’ve never felt like this. It was slowly driving you crazy. But you were going to try and enjoy the moment like he said, you know there’s plenty time to get to the good stuff, later.

You both get caught in deep conversation, talks about the universe, life’s purpose and the future. It was the deepest you and Eddie had ever gotten, you loved picking his brain, you wanted to know every little opinion he had.

After a couple hours pass by, Eddie starts to sit up

“I think we should get going baby, what do you think?” He asks as he stretches his arms above his head

“Yes, my butts starting to fall asleep” you snort

You both get up, picking up the blankets.

As you bend down to pick up the pillows Eddies palm comes down to slap your ass, you yelp out at the unsuspecting blow

“Ow, Eddie!” You whine out

“Sorry baby, couldn’t help myself” he smirks at you while throwing the blankets into the back from the passenger side

“I thought we were being patient?” You say raising an eyebrow

“We are, just wanted a little taste to hold me over” he retorts

Rolling your eyes, you slip into your seat.

As you pull up to your house, you instantly recognize the car sitting in your driveway.

A red Pontiac firebird

Your heart starts to race as Eddie pulls up on the curb of your front yard

“Is that Randy?” Eddie says as he looks over to you, trying to read your face

“Yeah, what the fuck is he doing here?” You question yourself out loud

You get out the van, noticing Randy sitting on your porch

“Y/n” he slurs

Oh, god he was shitfaced

“Why would he come here?” You thought

“What are you doing here Randy?”

“I came to see you, beautiful, was missing you”

As he slurs out Eddie walks up behind you

“Go home Randy” Eddie says, clenching his jaw

“Eddie the best friend, thats what you said, right y/n?”

“Randy, you really need to leave” you say, tone laced with venom

“Aw, what’s wrong baby, the other night you were telling me how bad you wanted my dick and now you’re telling me to go away?” He slurs out

“You better watch your fucking mouth” Eddie spits back

“Yeah whatever, look y/n I just want to know why? You know I really liked you? I thought you felt the same way but next thing I know your screaming out this son of a bitches name, and now what, you’re together?”

“Randy, you told me that night that I should tell him how I feel” “I’m confused, what happened?”

“Well what did you want me to say y/n? I thought you’d figure out he was a piece of shit on your own, that he’d just fuck you and throw you away like he does, but apparently not”

“Is that why you sent Becky to my place?” Eddie asks jaw still tightly clenched

“Me and Becky made an agreement, I wanted y/n and she wanted another quick fuck with you, but me, no I wanted you y/n I wanted you to be with me, be mine” he says as his eyes start to gloss over

“Alright, Randy that’s enough, if I have to tell you to leave one more time I’m gunna have to kick your ass”

“Fuck you munson, I’m not going anywhere until she’s mine”

“She’s not fucking property, dude. She doesn’t want you, I think she made that loud and clear, don’t ya think?” Eddie says back with a shit eating grin

Randy turns back to you, trying but failing to conjure up the best puppy dog eyes

“Cmon, you know he can’t give you what you need, you know I can do that for you y/n”

“Alright, man I already warned you once, I really don’t want to hit someone who’s drunk off their ass, but I will”

You stand in front of Eddie, seething

“Randy, I’m gunna go inside, I’m gunna call chief hopper to come and get you because there’s no way in hell your capable of driving, and you’re not gunna contact me ever again, okay?” You say pulling out your best stern voice

Randy looks at you and then looks away, as he swallows making his Adam’s apple bob, then nods his head

“Okay” you nod back walking up to your front door, with Eddie following right behind you

After you call chief hopper and wait about 15 minutes until he picks up Randy.

You and Eddie are stuck in this almost awkward silence, not really sure what to say, until Eddie finally speaks up

“Are you okay?” He asks

“Yeah, I’m fine” You answer

“Are you sure?” He questions again

“Yeah baby, I’m okay, was just nervous I didn’t want you both to fight, especially over me”

“I would fight over you a million times, princess” he says while cupping your face in his hands

“I love you, Eddie” you say as you scan his eyes

“I love you too, y/n” he says as he leans in to kiss your lips

It starts off as a few pecks but then gradually becomes something more, you both start walking up to your room, neither of you daring to break the kiss

Once upstairs, Eddie picks you up bridal style, walking you into your room and throwing you down on your bed

He looks over at the window

“Should I pretend to climb through the window?” He looks over at you with a sly grin

“Eddie, if you don’t get over here and fuck me right now, I will throw you out the window” you can’t help but to laugh at your last sentence and how desperate you sound

“So impatient” he says while walking over to you as he unbuttons his black button up. You start to remove your black dress but he stops you

“Hold on, let me take mine off and then daddy will get to you, Kay?

You nod your head, as you watch the show in front of you.

Eddie removes his shirt before working on his jeans, he seems to be doing everything very agonizingly slow, you realize his motive is to tease you for your impatience.

Finally he removes his boxers, you watch closely as his dick springs up. Already hard, tip leaking pre cum, and all you can think about is licking it

“Now it’s your turn” he says walking over to you

He starts with your boots first, and then removes the dress from over your head, he’s gawking at your bare chest and red lacy panties

Oh yeah he’s definitely gunna take his time with you

He slides back onto the bed grabbing your legs and spreading them, digging his fingers into your thighs

“Open up, nice and wide for me, baby”

You do as he says

“Good girl” he praises

“You gunna be my good little slut, tonight?”

“Yes, I wanna be daddy’s little slut”

Eddie really wanted to make love to you, but you were making his internal battle of making love vs fucking you into oblivion, too easy.

He begins to remove your panties, slipping them off your buttery smooth legs, before widening them back up.

Your pussy on full display for him, glistening from your arousal. It was the prettiest pussy Eddie had ever seen, and it was all his

“How do you want me baby?” He asks, looking up from your revealed sex and into your eyes

“What do you mean?” You cock your head In question

“Well, I can be gentle or I can be rough, how do you want me?” He says

“I want whatever you want to give me, you’re allowed to enjoy yourself too” you want him to be a little rough but you didn’t want to come out and say it

“I know, but I want to make this special for you” he says as he glances back down to look at your pussy

“It will be special, baby. Everything with you is special to me” you whisper

Eddie nods his head in understanding

“Daddy really wants to make you scream his name, is that okay?” He says scanning your eyes

Your eyes almost roll into the back of your head with how horny you are and how sexy he is

“Yes, please” you whine

Eddie starts to lay down between your thighs, stomach flat against the bed

He takes you behind your knees as he props your legs up and out of his way

First he kisses your thighs and moves up to the crease between your thigh and pussy, you try to quiet the moans that are desperate to leave your mouth, it already feels too good, and he’s not even eating you out yet

Finally moving his mouth directly in front of where you need him most, Eddie licks his lips and gives your clit a kiss before he starts his ministrations

Licking all the way from your puckered hole to your clit, and holy shit there’s no way you can keep the moans at bay any longer

“Oh my god, Eddie” you almost scream out

It’s so incredibly sensitive from all the teasing Eddie’s been doing to you today

Finally he sucks your clit into his mouth, before he’s spitting on it and then slurping it back up

Fuck, you think you’ve died and gone to heaven because there’s no way he’s this good with his mouth

But Eddie proves you very wrong when his tongue continues to go back and fourth from your asshole to your clit

All you can do is gasp and moan

At this point all words are lost on you, as your orgasm begins to build

You’re white knuckling the sheets while Eddie eats you like a man starved

Slipping two finger into you and hitting that spot you’ve been trying to hit for weeks is what pushes you over the edge, as you scream out Eddie’s name so loud the neighbors could probably hear you

Eddie continues giving your clit some more licks and kisses before he’s moving back up to hovering over your face, his chin and lips glisten with your arousal, so you suck his bottom lip into your mouth, tasting yourself as you both moan in unison

You were going to ask Eddie if you could return the favor, but before you could he was slapping his cock against your folds, as you cried out from overstimulation

“You ready baby?” Eddie asks as he wraps his hand around his cock and begins to move it to your needy hole

“Yes, yes, please fuck me” you moan out in desperation

He begins to enter

“Baby I need you to relax, it’s too tight when your body’s tense, okay? I got you, I’m gunna make you feel so good if you just relax” Eddie sounds just as desperate

You nod as you do your best to relax your body, and once you’re completely relaxed Eddie starts to push in, you were still super tight so to distract you from the pain Eddie started rubbing small circles on your clit, you moan out from the sensitivity of just having it devoured

But it does distract you from Eddie bottoming out inside you

“Holy shit, how did you get tighter from the last time we fucked?” He moans out

“Fuck y/n you feel so fucking good”

He hasn’t even started stroking yet, and he’s already sounding like a moaning mess, and you love it. It was turning you on even more if that was even possible with how turned on you already were

“You can move, Eddie, please”

With that he starts off slowly, but as your moans start to get louder he starts to pound into you harder, your eyes continue to roll back and close

“Uh uh, keep your eyes on me” Eddie says in the dominant tone you got a glimpse of earlier

“Yes daddy” you say as you look into his eyes

“Good girl. Good. Fucking. Girl” he says with each thrust

“Daddy, please spit in my mouth?” You don’t know where that came from but you were the most turned on you’d ever been and you just wanted to try the dirtiest shit that came to mind

Eddie starts to slow his hips as he looks at you with your mouth wide open and tongue out

He could cum right then, if he wasn’t so desperate to get you off first

He leans down and spits a glob right on the middle of your tongue

You take it into your mouth swallowing it, and then smiling up at him

“Thank you, daddy” you said in the sweetest voice

You were really trying to kill him

“Fuck your such a dirty little slut for daddy aren’t you baby?”

You nod unable to form words with how hard he’s hitting your spot

“I said your a dirty little slut aren’t you?” He said again, through gritted teeth as he slapped the side of your ass

“Yes, yes daddy I’m a dirty little slut, for you”

“Just for me?” He asked as he continued to hit your spot

“Yes, just for you, only you Eddie, fuuuck”

“You’re so fucking deep, I’m gunna cum”

“Cum for baby, cum on my cock, so I can fill you up” he moans out

He starts to rub your clit again, to help you reach your peak

Your legs start to shake

Your pussy gripping his cock like a vice as you cum, this orgasm way more intense then the last time you were together

Eddie cums inside you with a low growl, and sweet whispers in your ear of

“I love you, I love you, I love you”

Eddie lays on top of you for a few minutes, maneuvering himself so you could still breath

He lays with his head nuzzled in your neck as he continues to whisper praises in your ear

“You were so good for me baby, I love you so much” “nobody compares to you, I hope you know that” “I wanna marry you someday”

You and Eddie stayed up that whole night until the sun came up talking, about everything and nothing.

Eddie was right, this was a night you would never forget.

Time jump blurb

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING

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[thrillered]

"You Know I Mountain Dew It For Ya" | Spencer Agnew x Reader | Pt. 7

Pt. 7: To destress

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Your week was stressful to say the least. This shootblock had you in almost double the amount of videos than usual. This meant you really only got to see Spencer professionally, your usual chill banter and leisurely hang outs put on the back burner to focus on more career oriented things. 

You’ve said it a million times before, you love your job, but man you couldn’t wait for this week to end. It wasn’t just you feeling the stress either, the whole company was stressed. There were multiple big things happening and it was crunch time. Vidcon was coming up, merch was releasing soon, and both pit and games were announcing new series. 

Everyone was a little frazzled but the payoff would be amazing. The company was making big strides and you couldn’t be mad at that. However, you hadn’t had a movie night or dinner or anything with anyone, let alone Spencer, and your mood was beginning to sour. Your sociable personality thrived off of being around those you love, and when the only time with them was at your job–no matter how fun and silly it may be– you didn’t feel your best. 

This wasn’t going unnoticed by Spencer either. It wasn’t until today that Spencer knew you needed a break, and bad. You had walked into the office later than usual, dark circles under your eyes that your makeup couldn’t quite hide and the biggest redbull Spencer has ever seen. 

You were by no means late but you didn’t get to the office when you wanted to. First your alarm didn’t go off then the elevator in your apartment was closed and to top it all off the traffic was exponentially worse today due to some construction on your usual route. To say you were over it was an understatement. 

You threw your bag down next to your desk, immediately opening your computer and getting to work, hoping that you could finish any digital tasks before your shoot and take a nap. It was your last shoot day of the week thankfully. You could see the light at the end of the tunnel, and it was shaped like your bed. 

“You really can’t say anything about my kickstarts now.” Spencer teased, brushing a stray piece of hair out of his eye. 

“Yeah well I got no sleep last night, my neighbors decided they had to get in an argument at 2 am.” You sighed, “Oh! And the construction at 6 am.” 

“Oof, that sounds rough.” Spencer sympathized, “Come over tonight, there's no construction or arguing neighbors by me.” 

Seeing your reluctance at anything distracting this week he continued, “I’ll make you dinner… I’ll order us dinner.” He added, seeing your grimace when he mentioned his cooking. “Come on, you need to relax and clearly your place isn’t providing that.” 

You thought for a moment. It did sound nice, Spencer lived in a nice area, admittedly much quieter than yours. “Okay, that sounds great actually.” 

Relieved at your agreement he gave your shoulder a squeeze, “Perfect, okay I gotta run. I’ll see you later then, good luck with today, you’re gonna kill it.” 

You sent him one last smile before he walked off, jogging to catch up with Emily. 

—

Spencer had told you to come over around 7. This gave you enough time to go home and nap before taking a shower. Feeling refreshed, you texted Spencer saying you were on your way. 

It didn’t take long for you to arrive at Spencer's apartment. You stopped at a convenience store on your way, picking up some snacks and drinks for the night. 

Knocking on his door you could hear the faint sound of music, muffled through the thick wood. After about a minute he opened the door. 

“Hey, Y/N” Spencer said, letting you walk in, his hand brushing the small of your back as he ushered you in. “Nice shirt.” He noted, seeing it was one of his.

You noticed his apartment was particularly clean, the usual few cups and empty bowls scattered around his kitchen were nowhere to be found, tucked away in their respective cabinets. You set your bag down on a barstool, pulling another one out to sit on. 

“Did you clean today?” You asked, peering around the room. “Is that a candle I smell? You hate candles.” 

Spencer blushed, fiddling with a strap of your bag to avoid eye contact. “Well, yeah. I don’t like candles but you do.” 

You smiled, wondering how you got so lucky to have such a thoughtful friend. 

“What?” He asked, feeling your gaze on the side of his face. 

“You are just the sweetest,” You gushed, standing up and throwing your arms around his shoulders, “Thank you Spence.” 

He settled his hands around your hips, pulling you in a little closer as he gently rubbed circles on your side. You could have stayed like this forever, and you would have if another knock on the door hadn’t interrupted you. 

“One sec.” Spencer said, untangling himself from you to get the door. He returned a few minutes later holding a large bag you recognized as being from your ramen place. “Let's eat.”

You settled on the couch, ramen bowls in hand as Spencer grabbed your drinks and turned on the tv, putting on a random episode of some show that was inevitably going to be ignored. 

—

The remnants of your dinner were on the coffee table, your legs swung over Spencers as you joked and laughed, Spencer telling a story from college. 

“Okay I have another idea,” He explained, getting up from the couch and walking to the kitchen. “It’s totally up to you but I did stop and get some things that might help you destress a little.” 

He walked back into the living room, his hands behind his back. “I got your favorite wine but! I also got some edibles. I think either would be great.” 

“I have to drive home Spence, I can’t” You frowned, wishing you could stay and have fun with Spencer. 

“Just stay the night, easy.” Spencer responded, like it was the simplest thing in the world. 

“I don’t have any clothes”

“You aren’t filming tomorrow, you can wear something of mine,” He countered, “Plus I probably have something of yours around here with how much you’re over.” 

You contemplated it for a minute before you thought fuck it, you deserve to unwind tonight. “Okay, I’ll stay, hand over those edibles.” 

Spencer laughed before opening the package and handing it to you to pick your poison. You grabbed two gummies and popped them in your mouth before handing the package back to Spencer, eyeing him as he grabbed one for himself. 

“Now the night’s getting started.” you laughed, excited to feel the high and giggle with your best friend. 

—

“You remember when you buzzed your hair?” You asked, Spencer’s head laying on your lap. 

“I do.” 

“You ever gonna do that again?” 

“Not sure.” 

“You shouldn’t” You replied, giggling a little as you twirled one of his curls around your finger. “I like your curls, I think they’re really cute.” 

He laughed a little, adjusting his glasses to look up at you. 

“I like your beard too, it’s at a good length, I like the scruff.” You scratched his cheek before patting it lovingly. 

He noticed you were much more touchy tonight. Of course, part of this was the effects of the edible floating around your mind, and he loved it. You were his favorite person and wanted nothing more than to spend everyday like this. 

Alex’s words came to mind as he thought about you. “One sided my ass, she’s totally into you, has been forever”. Maybe it was the edible talking but he decided he had to know.

“You’re my best friend, and nothing can change that.” He began, sitting up and scooting next to you. 

“Awe Spency,” You cooed, grabbing his hand in your own, “You’re my best friend too.” 

“But I’m not sure that’s really what I want.” He looked down at your interlocked fingers.

“What do you mean?” You asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes. 

“I just can’t keep doing this.” Spencer said, removing his hand from yours and adjusting his position to look at you more directly. 

“What?”

[cottagecheese1]

Chapter 2

summary: A few years after your father died, your mother marries a new man, to you having a new family meant new begging's, but what happens when your new begging comes spiraling apart just because of the people that made them. paring: dark stepdad Andy Barber x reader x dark dbf Lloyd Hansen x reader x dark stepbrother Johnny storm x reader x dark bbf Colin Shea.

warnings- (DDLG undertones) stepcest, Johnny is NOT Andy's biological father, he is the adopted son. smut, do not engage if you are uncomfortable with any of the following, spanking, blackmail, p in v, edging, thigh riding, oral, fingering.

Series master list right here

The day was new, sadly, after last night you didn’t know if leaving your room was a good option in the first place, well of course you’d live, but the embarrassment you felt at the moment made you feel like the world was ending. You always felt a little sensitive and awkward towards every little situation that came your way. When you say it in your head it always sounds like a bad thing even though there are worse things in the world, and you shouldn’t even come close to feeling unfortunate in any situation–or thats what your mother would tell you, at a point your life your mother used to make you feel vain–blaming you for your fathers death saying it was your fault, of course you knew your mother had loved you, I mean she was also going through the grief of losing her husband, you shouldn’t be selfish–thats what she would also tell you.

After a long two hours of laying in bed, you rolled in bed and looked at your alarm clock that read 9:23am, and you could already hear the shuffling and laughter of the boys in the kitchen, deciding to just suffer through it and just hope nobody brings up the previous night, they all probably forgot about it by now, right? You could only hope because you sure haven’t forgotten.

Making your way down the hall where the chuckling and the sizzling of bacon started to make itself more present as you stepped into the kitchen, your head automatically goes down towards the floor when the chatter abruptly stops–the awkward sizzling of bacon mocking you as you walk towards the bread.

Andy stops and turns toward you with a small smile while leaning on the marble countertop, finally deciding to break the silence, “good morning honey, I made breakfast if you’re interested, bacon and uh maybe some pancakes if Johnny will save some for the rest of us.” he says the last part while turning towards a shirtless johnny stuffing his mouth full, mumbling out a “sorry”.

You tilt your head up toward Andy, and grab the bread, “no thanks Andy, maybe later–thanks though–well not that I don’t want any it's just-” you stutter out, until Andy interrupts you with a soft chuckle.

Andy walks behind you–tucking a piece of hair behind your ear before he leaned down to press a small kiss to your temple, “Oh pumpkin, what am I gonna do with you hm? With your cute self.” your cheeks tinted red, and besides that you could hear Johnny, and Colin snickering–probably making fun of you.

Not really knowing how to respond, but suddenly another thought comes to mind–where's your mother? Now curious, you turned and asked Andy, face still red as a beet, “um- where's my mom?” Andy half listens to you as he plays with your hair softly.

“She’s on a business trip, won’t be back for a few weeks, so you get to spend some alone time with us.” Andy says as he smirks.

You advert your gaze back to the toaster and give him a quick “okay”, before turning back around he huffs dramatically grabbing his keys swiftly, but before he heads out, he stops before the two chuckling boys.

“You boys be nice, treat her good until I get home, okay? Oh honey, if you need anything just give me a call, okay? Johnny should help you with anything, if not, I’ll be back around 11:00. Be good you two.”, and at that Andy was out the door, now it’s just you and them.

Johnny sighed and got up dramatically, “I’m gonna go take a shower, you kids have fun.” he said as he walked toward his bedroom.

Now it was just Colin and you, but as soon as you heard the toaster pop up, you scurried to your room–not even bothering to grab the butter–once you got to your room, closing the door you sighed and switched your phone on for the next hour.

💼

After another 30 minutes of contemplating if you should leave your room or not, you do. Opening the door slowly, and walking down the hall to the living room, where you thought watching TV would be an option for you, but Colin seemed to be taking up the couch and the entire atmosphere, and God was it intimidating.

Before you could turn away, and advance to the comfort of your own room–Colin stopped you abruptly. He threw his head back over the back of the couch, and called your name out.

“Hey!- don’t leave, come join me, I’m watching 21 jump street, I want you to come watch it with me.”

He sounded so demanding, but maybe that's just his way of expressing himself, so you watch as he scoots over a tad, and pats the spot next to him. This is when you seem to notice he doesn’t have a shirt on under his thin jacket, but you still sit down awkwardly next to him.

Suddenly he scoots closer to you, and wraps an arm around you, pulling you to him slightly as he says “relax baby, just getting comfortable, you wanna lay on me?”

“Oh, well I’m ok right now, I wouldn’t wanna-” he cuts you off by his own words, “cmon baby, I don’t mind, it's just some friendly cuddles, don’t gotta be all shy about it.” he says the last part chuckling.

You stay silent as he speaks again, “Here–I’ll help you.” Coin grunts a bit as he pulls you on top of him, and pushes your head onto his chest, softly stroking your hair. As much as you’d hate to admit it, it did feel kind of nice, maybe because he was nice and warm, and solid–Colin interrupts your train of thought when he speaks again.

“Isn’t this nice baby? All nice and relaxed…You're such a good girl, you know that?” he says with a mischievous glint in his voice while stroking your back, his voice still vibrating off of you he continues, “So, so quiet. Bet you're a virgin huh? All pure and untouched, from the way you're grinding on my dick and acting all innocent about it, you have to be.”

You feel stiff all the sudden, like you can’t move, now you're overly aware of the fact that his dick is poking your thigh. Then to make things worse he leans down toward your ear, “You know me, and Johnny talked about fucking you last night? Or how adorable you would look trying to wrap your lips around our cocks–and the tears that would run down that pretty face as we both fucked you till you couldn’t walk–or talk–bet you're a cock drunk bitch when you have the chance, huh?”

This is when you really started to freak out, trying to shove away from him eagerly, “Stop! Get off me! Andy will come back any time.”, and Colin just laughed at your plea, which made you slightly confused.

“Oh Baby, you poor girl, Andy’s the worst of both of us, if you knew all the dirty shit he’s said about you, you’d be crying–or well you already are–your new daddy just wants to pound you into his mattress until you're crying honey, and so much more.”

Your eyes widened at his statement, that couldn’t be, Andy cared about you..right? The thoughts that ran a million miles in your head suddenly got interrupted by another presence entering the room. Johnny.

Crying out for him as Colin licked and sucked on your neck, making you whimper pathetically in the process, “Johnny, please get him off of me..” you said pleadingly.

Johnny stared at you mockingly as he bent down to your level, where you still laid beneath Colin helplessly. He stroked the side of your face teasingly before he said, “Now why would I do that hm? Not when you’re whimpering so sweetly baby.” Colin then let up off you, leaning back into the couch, pulling you into his lap in the process as you felt your thighs subconsciously rub together.

After Johnny made his way beside you and Colin–sandwiching yourself between them as result, he stroked your thigh up and down, slowly making his way to your clothed core, “Look how fucking red you are, just from some teasing hm? you wanna feel me sweetheart? Don’t even try to hide how wet you are–bet you haven’t even had your first kiss yet.”

You had to be slightly surprised at his forwardness, no you haven’t had your first kiss yet, but you just told yourself that you're waiting for the right person. Colin chuckled at Johnny’s antics, this is also when you noticed that Johnny was not wearing a shirt–or pants for a matter of fact, this realization made you feel hotter all over.

Colin leaned over and looked at Johnny, “You know the old man won’t like it if we take her first kiss without him being here."

Johnny rolled his eyes and scoffed, still stroking your thighs, “Fuck that old geezer, I'm taking what's min-” Johnny got cut off by a loud slam of a door and jingling of car keys jingling. You three looked over toward the door to see Andy in the doorway, his arms crossed intimidatingly.

“what's going on here fellas..trying to break her in without me?” Andy said with a smirk as he reached the end of his sentence. He walked over to you slowly, and took your small face into both of his large hands, “And what about you honey? Having fun without daddy, hm? Good thing I’m here now.” He ends the last of his words with a chuckle.

Pleading for help wouldn’t even save you right now, after what Johnny and Colin just confessed to you–especially Andy–all you can do is hope for the best.

A/n: sorry for the short late chapter ya'll (I edited it at the end because the order was fucked up for those who were as confused as me.)

[hamzahsfav]

AIRPORT

A/N: okay so this has been in my drafts for a while and it’s been poorly revamped so sorry if this is bad and all over the place?! 😞🙏

(this song reminds me of a moment like this, especially at the part where it says “if i hit you with a W-Y-D…”

Y/N POV:

You groaned while you heard your alarm go off. “Time to get ready for the airport wake up!!” said your sister shouting at you to get up. You rubbed your eyes as you walked into the bathroom. “Gosh, my hair is a mess” you say as you picked at the frizzy parts. You get your trusty hairspray and go over those parts with it. You brush your teeth after and do your skincare. “You need to help me get those type of products you use y/n, your skin is literally glowing” your sister says as you pick up your shoes and get into them. “I promise I will, don’t worry.” Your suitcases are quite heavy since you’re going to the Maldives for 2 weeks, but you’re taxi driver helps you carry them into the back of the car.

You step outside the car, the breeze hitting your face. “That was way too long” you say. “Oh please, it was only a 35 minute drive” your sister replying back. You walk into the airport, trying to check in. After you’re done, you look around for a seat. You then lock eyes with someone. “Wow” you said in your head. He was beautiful. Your sister looking at you while you’re still in the moment, smirking at how long you guys were looking at each other for. “Y/n, we need to get this drink, please!” “Alright, where can we get it?” “There.” She points towards the direction of the man you had stared at before. You had no time to react since your sister was already dragging you towards the cafe. Waiting in line felt like forever. Finally, after around 15 minutes of waiting, you collect your drinks. “Honestly, it was worth the wait” you say as you happily take more sips of your drink. “Right!” Your sister says, agreeing with you. “I was gonna be so mad if the drink were b-“ your drink, ending up on a man shirt. “Oh my God.” Says the man as he lifts his shirt. You look up. The same man. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry..” you say panicking. “It’s fine, I’m the one that bumped into you.” He says. “Let me get you some tissues, hold on.” You say, practically running to the counter. “Here.” You gently wipe his shirt. It only helps a little, cursing yourself for letting this happen in the first place. “Honestly, it’s fine” he tries to reassure you. “I just feel so bad, is there any way I can repay you?” “No, but thank you.” He chuckles. That made you feel a little less uneasy. “What’s your name? He asks. “Y/n, what’s yours?” “Hamzah” he says. “That’s a nice name” you say, trying to ease the tension, while also cringing inside. “Thank you, you too” he replies. You glance over, a guy giggling a few feet behind the man. You guess you stared too long, as Hamzah began to stare at the boy too. “Oh i’m sorry about him, he’s just my friend i’m going with on holiday, along with his girlfriend” he says, pointing to a blonde girl right next to the man laughing. “It’s ok, honestly” you reply, feeling like an absolute idiot. You look around for your sister. You see her in the corner, laughing by herself while pretending to be on the phone. You could tell. Hamzah could tell you were starting to feel even worse about this situation. “Would you like me to buy you a new drink?” He asks. “Oh no, it’s fine” you say back. “I insist. I heard you talking about how good it was”. You smile. “It was pretty good”. “Alright then, I’ll buy you a new one, let’s go” he says.

HAMZAH’S POV:

Honestly, I was pretty pissed that my shirt was ruined. But then I saw her face. It was her. The moment we locked eyes, I was star struck. She was beautiful. “Can I please get the New Oreo Milkshake?” I ask. “You’re in luck, this is the last one, sold like crazy” the worker said smiling. Y/n smiles. Her smile is so beautiful. Her dimples showing. I smile too. We wait for around 5 minutes. During then, I got to know her more. She has a sister, that explains the other girl with her. Her parents live in her home country, but they were going Maldives for a vacation with her sister. She explains that she’s mostly introverted. She doesn’t really like going outside unless it’s important. She finds peace inside her home. I personally do too. She loves cats, she laughs as i show her pictures of my cat. “She’s so cute, I love cats”. I smiled at that. She’s in the midst of telling me how she was still studying while also being a YouTuber, part time. I was telling her how I also do YouTube, but full time. “Me and Martin. We have a channel called “slushy noo-“ “ ONE OREO MILKSHAKE?” We heard. She smiles and thanks the worker. We walk back to the seating area while I tell her the rest of what beta squad does. “slushy?” she asks. “noobz” I reply back. “Wait that’s so sick” she says sipping her drink. She’s so beautiful, and her skin is so clear. “What’s your skincare routine? Your skin is glowing” I say. “You’re the second person to say this” she laughs. Her laugh is so pretty. She tells me how she got into a new skincare brand recently. “Oh that’s cool” I say, intrigued with what the products help her skin with. “Your skin is beautiful by the way” she says. “Thank you! I try my best to take care of it well” I chuckle. “Well whatever you’re doing is definitely working.” She says.

Y/N POV:

You roll your eyes as your sister yells towards you to help with something on her phone. “Now you decide you suddenly want to come towards me?” You say, pissed. “Sorry, I just didn’t want to embarrass myself” she says, ignoring your attitude. You hear the other the couple Hamzah was pointing to coming over. Oh. You swallow your awkwardness as you greet each person. After a lot of hi’s and hey’s, you finally felt at ease. “Our flight is soon by the way y/n.” “Oh gosh, alright. Have you gotten all your things?” “Duh?” Your sister replies. You smile at the rest, with awkwardness. “Why does my sister feel the need to embarrass me like this all the time?” You ask in your head. “Sorry guys, we’re gonna have to go, it was nice meeting you all though!” “Same to you” they all say back. “Y/n, is there any sort of way I could get your number or something? I really enjoyed talking to you to be honest” Hamzah asks. Your sister smiles and quickly turns away while typing on her phone. “Of course” you say typing your number into his phone. “Thank you” he says smiling. “I’ll text you when i get to the Maldives” you tell him. “I’ll be waiting then.” He replies back. That makes you laugh. You walk away to get to your gate. You had a good feeling about this man.

[skzdust]

Room 514

Part 4

This one got longer than expected! Hope you enjoy! Pt 5 will get very interesting 👀

Summary: You’re moving into a new suite halfway through your sophomore year at Stay University, populated by three guys: Jisung, Changbin, and Bang Chan. You meet their friends and quickly become a part of their group, but you find yourself wanting more with Jisung…

Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

Includes: skipping class, crappy dining hall food, bad TV shows, cuddling, late-night drives

Word count: 1.9k

Taglist (Comment on a post/send an ask if you'd like to be added): @weirdowithaphone, @caught-in-the-afterglow, @palindrome969, @skzstan12345, @katsukis1wife, @tsunderelino

Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!!!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5

Masterlist

-----

You rolled over in bed and picked up your phone, which was playing your morning alarm louder than usual, and nearly had a heart attack. Your first class of the day started in five minutes.

You jumped out of bed and pulled on the first clothes you saw, which happened to be yesterday’s outfit that you’d left on the floor. You grabbed your backpack, deciding to forego morning hygiene until you got back from class. Your professor was strict about attendance, and you didn’t want to waste one of your absences because you overslept.

Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on the way you thought about it), Jisung was laying down in the living room, one leg dangling off the couch, scrolling on his phone. He sat up when you rushed in, and you tried not to look at him.

“Hey, what’s up?”

You failed, turning around. “I’m about to be late for class.”

“Ah.” He nodded, glancing at his phone and clicking it off. “You’ve got one minute to get there. If I were you, I’d just skip.”

You sighed, turning the door handle but keeping it shut. “I wish. I only get three skips.”

“Then use one.”

“We’re, like, three weeks into the semester.” You said. “But that’s an appealing idea.”

“Then do it!” Jisung leaned back again, putting his arms behind his head and tapping his fingers against his head. “No time like the present. I’ll skip with you. We can go to the dining hall and get subpar eggs and watch The Immortal and the Restless.”

“That does sound… very nice.” You said, your fingers tightening on the door handle as you considered.

“C’mon.” He gave you a rakish smile. “Dare ya.”

Well, I can’t turn down a dare.

Your hand left the handle, and you rolled your eyes, smiling. “Fine.”

“I know, I know, I’m totally twisting your arm here.”

“Oh, totally.” You grinned at the thought of spending another day hanging out with Jisung. “I’m gonna go change and brush my teeth, and then we can go get food.”

“Sounds good.”

You walked into your room, picking out a clean outfit and taking a few minutes to mess with your hair before deeming it acceptable. You tried to ignore the excited feeling in your stomach as you brushed your teeth and did your skincare routine.

It’s just Jisung. You’re just getting food and watching your TV show. Nothing’s about to happen.

You’d hung out with Jisung and his friend group in the living room a couple of times during the week, but you hadn’t spent any one-on-one time with him since the mall trip a little less than a week ago. Finishing that calculus on Monday night had been hell, but it was worth it.

But today was Friday, which meant you could do nothing tonight. A twinge of guilt twitched in your stomach as you thought about the two classes you’d decided to skip.

Like he said. You reassured yourself. No time like the present.

You walked back out to the living room. “I’m hungry, let’s go get some breakfast.”

“Sounds good to me.” Jisung stood up. “You should get a jacket this time, though. Remember last time we went to get snacks and watch this show?”

“I won’t need a jacket. It’s only…” You glanced at the weather widget on your lock screen. “37 ℉.”

“That’s almost freezing temperature. You definitely need a jacket.” Jisung decided. “If you won’t get one of your own, I’ll get one.” He pointed at you. “You will wear a jacket.”

Okay, well, I have to be stubborn now. You remembered how warm the coat had been from his body, how good it had smelled, how it fit you.

“It’s not even snowing, or raining, or hailing. Those are jacket conditions. These are not jacket conditions.”

He raised an eyebrow, stared at you with judgement in his eyes for just a second, and walked back to his room. He returned with two jackets, a long black puffer coat and a shorter tan puffer coat. “Okay, take your pick.”

“Jacket? Those are coats!”

“It’s cold! You get a coat!”

You sighed, snatching the black coat from his hand and slipping it on.

“Hold on.” Jisung reached into the pocket and pulled out a black beanie. “Stay still.”

You did so, and he carefully put the hat on your head, then pulled out a few strands of your hair to frame your face.

He was so close. His tongue peeked out from his lips for a second, and you couldn’t take your eyes off him.

He looked in your eyes as he adjusted the hat over your ears, then stepped back, tilting his head to assess his work with a small smile. “There you go. We don’t want your ears freezing.”

“Of course.” You forced a laugh out, flustered.

He put on the tan coat and shoved a red hat onto his own head.

I’m gonna play his game.

You stepped towards him. “Here.” You gently arranged his hair under the beanie. You could feel his wide eyes on your face the whole time, but you made an active effort not to look at his expression.

You stepped back, finally looking at his face.

“Absolutely perfect!” You said, trying to make it sound like a joke and not your actual opinion.

He grinned. “Thank you.”

Jisung held the door for you as you walked out of the room, and your hands brushed as you got into the elevator. He pushed the button, looking like he hadn’t noticed anything, as you tried to suppress the thrill in your chest.

You scrunched your nose at the cold as you walked out of the dorm. Jisung laughed. “See? I was right about the jacket!”

“I don’t know about that.” You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling. “It’s not that cold.”

“Sure.”

You relaxed when you walked into the warm dining hall, shivering off the cold. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“Mhm.” Jisung looked amused.

“Shut up.” You mumbled.

The dining hall was busy, but not impossible. You and Jisung got your food and found a table for two.

“All we need is a vase of flowers.” Jisung said as he sat down.

“What?”

“Y’know, like how at fancy restaurants they have vases of flowers?” He waved his hand. “Whatever, stupid joke.”

“No, no, I get it.” You looked down, smiling.

You weren’t sure you got it, actually. Was he implying this was like a… a date?

You and Jisung both ate quickly, not talking a lot. It felt comfortable, like it was just natural for you to be skipping class and scarfing down eggs with your unfairly attractive roommate.

The two of you finished your food around the same time and stood up to leave. Jisung paused with his hand on the door handle leading back out to the yard. “Wanna get snacks?”

“As long as it doesn’t end in another snowstorm, I’m fine with it.”

“Yeah, although that poetry library was pretty cool.”

“It was.”

You walked beside each other to the store, and you fought the urge to take his hand… or adjust his hat again… or kiss him…

You picked out some candy at the store and sat it on the checkout counter, behind Jisung’s stuff.

“This yours?” The cashier motioned to your candy once she’d finished scanning Jisung’s, and before you could reply, Jisung cut in with a “Yeah, I’ll get it.”

“What is your obsession with paying for me?” You elbowed him.

“Chivalrous Jisung, remember?” He winked at you. Winked.

You elbowed him again, harder.

“Okay, you’re carrying the bag.” He put away his card and shoved the bag of food to you. You sighed dramatically and took the bag.

The walk back to the dorm was far more peaceful than it had been the other day, not a snowstorm in sight. You made it back to your room and unpacked the bag onto the coffee table, spreading it all out. “Looks like a good haul.” You looked at him. “Thank you.”

He finished shrugging off his coat and threw you a grin. “Yeah, ‘course.”

“Can you get the show up?”

“Yeah.” He queued the second episode of The Immortal and the Restless on the TV as you took your time selecting a snack. In reality, you weren’t sure if he’d want to sit together again, or if you were overthinking things from the other day.

“Can you bring me those gummies? I like the watermelon ones.”

You picked the candy up and turned around to hand them to him. He was sitting on the couch, one hand holding the blanket, the other around the back of the couch. “You wanna sit with me?”

“S—sure.” You stood up, handing him the gummies and awkwardly sitting beside him. You weren’t sure what he was comfortable with, weren’t sure if he wanted more with you, weren’t sure if—

“C’mere.” Jisung squeezed your bicep, his arm around your shoulders. “I’m a touchy person, if you’re okay with that.”

“I am certainly okay with that.” You said quickly, pulling your legs onto the couch and curling up against his side.

Jisung was warm, warmer than you’d expected him to be. His arm circled a bit closer around you, pulling you close. You blinked a second longer than you needed to. This was real, right? He didn’t seem to notice, clicking the episode on.

You had a hard time focusing on the show, instead letting your mind wander about Jisung. Every time he adjusted, you scooted a little closer to him. You let your eyes flicker up to his face, his damn near perfect face…

A few episodes in, Jisung’s hand found your hair. “’S okay if I play with your hair?” He mumbled.

“Yeah,” You breathed. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

His fingers gently combed through your hair, drawing designs on your scalp, little circles, scratching your head.

You thought you might die of bliss, right then and there.

The whole day passed like that, with the two of you eating junk food and watching TV and cuddling. Every time he went to the bathroom, you worried that Jisung wouldn’t want to be touchy again when he returned. But every time, without fail, he returned to touching your hair, gently stroking your arm, pulling you a little closer. You didn’t talk much, but you didn’t want to. You didn’t need to.

“Hey, Y/n?” Jisung paused the show once an episode was done.

“Mm?” You looked up from where your head rested on his side.

“Wanna go for a drive? I wanna move around a bit.” He smiled. “I’m tired, and it’s only like six, and I don’t want to go to bed yet.”

“Sure.” You sat up, feeling your face and noticing marks where you’d been leaning on Jisung’s shirt.

He grabbed his car keys, and you walked out to the parking lot, which had an orange cast in the glow of the old streetlights. You got into the passenger seat, and Jisung drove off campus.

“Where are we going?”

Jisung shrugged. “Nowhere.”

You leaned your head back against the headrest.

“Mind if I put on music?” Jisung looked at his phone for a second, queuing something up.

“Sure.”

He pressed play, and a slow love song started playing, just loud enough for you to hear.

The heat was blasting, and a soft snowfall began, and Jisung’s hand found yours on the center console.

[irondadfics]

Hello! I was wondering if anyone knows any fics of Peter being a bit of a dick? I love the stories where he is rude to people, normally as a way to push them away so they can’t see how bad his life is. Any examples of rude/sassy Peter would be greatly appreciated!

here are some for you! Happy reading

Wake up and smell the coffee by Bergen

The Avengers find themselves in need of Spider-Man’s help to improve their reputation. Peter Parker, however, doesn't exactly have the best reputation: he has been dabbling in a life of crime. Tony really doesn't care about picking up after some degenerate teen. Peter really doesn't care about some dumb adults telling him what to do. And nothing will ever, ever change their minds.

100 Hours (Community Service is for the Turtles) by orphan_account

“Hey there, Parker. I’ve got some exciting news about your community service sentencing,” the bright voice from the other line says. "It looks like you've been reassigned." “Oh, yeah?” Peter asks, warily. His social worker sounds excited, but he's been burned a few too many times to take any "good news" at face value. Peter listens to her explain with a furrowed brow, and when the call is over, he opens the web browser on his cracked Android and quickly types the words september foundation into the search bar. His eyes narrow as he peruses the top result. Oh, he is going to kill that Stark bastard. - All Peter Parker wants to do is fly under the radar. He wants to go to school, work off his sentence by picking up trash at the stupid park, and avoid going home for as long as possible each night. Unfortunately for him, Tony Stark has never been one to see untapped potential and not do something about it.

The seventh escape by Bergen

Tony and Pepper snatched Peter up only a few weeks after the first Spider-Man video went viral. Real fucking coincidence, right? Suddenly, Tony Stark rocked right up at his group home, strewing business cards around like he was Oprah. If Oprah were an ugly white dude with a goatee. “Big fan,” he told Peter, fasting forward through a video of Spider-Man catching a bus before it crashed through a road block. “In and out of foster care your whole life, am I right? I believe my wife and I could provide a very fitting home for you.” “Pass,” Peter said.

Paradigm shift by Bergen

Peter got a Stark phone when he was ten. Adrian took him to a big store with lots of TV screens that all played the same video of Tony Stark declaring to the world that he was Iron Man. They ducked behind the microwaves, both of them giggling as Adrian stuffed the phone under Peter’s sweater. They walked right out the door without tripping the alarm, and Adrian bought him ice cream to celebrate. — After his parents die, Peter is taken in by the Toomes family. Things slowly, then quickly spiral out of control. All Adrian wants is to take revenge on Tony Stark. All Peter wants is to do the right thing. Why is that so much harder than expected?

the long game by niniblack

“Your prints were a match for a missing persons case from ten years ago. A little boy who was kidnapped.” The officer pulls out a picture that she turns toward Peter. It’s a little boy around four years old, with curly brown hair. “That’s you,” she says. Peter shakes his head. “Do you remember how you got to that park? Who left you there?” “Lady, I don’t remember jack shit,” Peter says. “I was like four. No one remembers shit from when they were four.” --- Or: the biodad au where Peter gets arrested for selling drugs, and that actually improves his life.

[daceydeath]

Cigarettes and Cliche's (Part 10)

Pairings: Bad Boy Felix x Reader Word Count: 5.5K Genre: Collage AU, Slow Burn Romance Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Swearing, Alcohol, Smoking

He was the most impractical guy for you to be interested in the incredibly handsome cliché bad boy who collected girls like trophies. As hard as you wanted to stay away you couldn't even if it might cost you everything and leave you heartbroken you couldn't ignore him.

You felt lighter now that Seungmin and Jeongin knew but you knew they were still going to be protective of you and once they got used to it would start taking the piss out of you. What you didn’t expect though was the kid glove treatment that you got the following morning when they decided to join you at the table while you savored your coffee.

“What are you doing today?” Seungmin asked after swallowing a mouthful of cereal.

“I’m working later but not much” you smiled, noticing they both had bowls so that meant no smoke alarms for burnt toast at least.

“Are you going to see Felix?” Jeongin questioned not looking up at you.

“Is there a reason we are playing twenty questions?” you mused looking at each of them pointedly as flush crept up their ears.

“No, I just am curious,” he blinked owlishly.

“I don’t know what I’m doing today. I could study a bit and I think Changbin and Han wanted to grab dinner at some point so I’m not sure” you shrugged feeling satisfied that they were only being sweet.

“There is a party tonight if you want to come, after work of course, your boyfriend will probably be there” Seungmin smirked which made you roll your eyes.

“Maybe it depends on my shift” you sighed feigning indifference even though a spike of nervousness shot through you“I assume you will be spying on him to make sure he behaves himself?”.

“No…well yeah” Jeongin grinned shamelessly.

“To be honest I don't know how people will react if they see us together so soon after the Nali thing” you chewed the inside of your cheek and frowned. Part of you didn't care what people thought you wanted to be with Felix and you were happy but another part of you was scared that people would think you were a liar and that maybe Nali was right about you even though you had proved at the time she wasn't.

“You don't have to worry about that, I swear no one will say anything” Seungmin interjected sympathetically, his hand reaching out to squeeze your forearm. Besides, do you really think that Felix won't punch on if someone insults you? Shit I'll join in too”.

“I would prefer that there were no fights” you rolled your eyes remembering the first time you had met Felix had been due to Seungmin losing a fight.

“Well I won't be getting in any fights, blood would ruin my outfit” Jeongin smirked, not reassuring you at all as he got up to put his cup in the sink.

“Boys.” you sighed heavily, your sarcasm obvious while trying not to smile as you too moved to put your dishes in the sink. “I’ll be in my room if you need me”.

Retreating to your room you sat at your small desk and woke up your laptop, you really should get a little bit more studying in before the final weekend of the break actually hit you and you would need to figure out which tests you could show to your parents without them realizing you had over exaggerated now much work you needed to get done before the starting week of the new semester. An hour passed before you stopped to stare at the screen, your grades were high, your scores were damn good and your lowest grade would be an A- even if you missed a few of the graded minor papers that would be required in the next 10 weeks but you knew that would not be enough for them. 

Lix, Do you really think I could change my degree? Would the university inform anyone if I did?

You typed quickly, still not totally comfortable to just call in case he was still sleeping. When you went back to the University portal and left your academic outcomes you clicked on the link giving you information about changing majors, degrees or doctorates scanning the pages for what the most negative outcome would be for you. With the grades you had in the mathematical side you would be pretty much level in that aspect of the change but you would have to add a whole extra year to be able to achieve the design grades for you to be able to graduate. 

You want to change to architecture? That’s great baby I’m so proud of you x

The uni wouldn’t tell anyone unless it fucked up your scholarship. But I will help you figure it out, my super smart baby.

Your stomach dropped, your scholarship, how could you forget something so important the only reason you could attend was that scholarship and if it jeopardized that there was no way you could even afford to attend university anymore let alone add a year to change your career. Taking a couple of deep breaths you picked up your phone and dialed Felix if he answered he was awake at least. It only rang once before his deep albeit croaky voice filled your ear.

“Morning baby” he answered, sounding slightly groggy.

“Did I wake you Lix? I’m sorry” you pouted apologetically, your cursor hovering over the button leading to the contact of the administration about how they could help you.

“Nah I’ve been awake for a while, just had a late night “you could hear the smile in his voice “you want to change your degree? That’s a huge deal baby I’m proud of you”.

“I want to, I want to be able to do what I want in my life” you admitted the heat climbing up your neck as he snickered quietly.

“Do what you want hey? Like sneaking off and getting a boyfriend?” you could almost see the smug face you knew he was pulling. “Going on dates and partying?”.

“Something like that” you mumbled feeling shy “but only if it doesn’t mess up my scholarship”.

“We can sort that out if it comes to it but it might not” Felix reassured you, the sound of fabric moving was distracting you slightly.

“What are you doing? I can hear all this moving” you asked trying to distract Felix from provoking you any further.

“I’m still in bed baby, just looking at the view, wishing you were here and as half dressed as I am” he teased huskily, making the blood rush not only to your face in embarrassment but also far lower on your anatomy.

“I’m hanging up now” you groaned, placing your other hand on your cheek to cool it down.

“No baby don’t go I’m just playing I promise” he protested sincerely “There is a party tonight do you want to come with me? Did you want to come over here since they guys will be going and we could hang out”.

“I have work this afternoon so If you want to go you should I can text you if I’m going and we can decide then. I don’t want to pull you away from all your fun to have a boring night with me” you smiled honestly not minding at all Felix had proved you could trust him after all.

“I would rather have fun with you than go to a party and spend the night thinking about you” Felix admitted, clearing his throat softly as soon as the words left his mouth, his words making you feel warm all over. 

“Alright Lix, I’ll talk to you later” you whispered, turning your attention back to your screen to click on the email template for making an appointment to change up your degree.

“You will baby” Felix answered making a small kiss noise before hanging up leaving you feeling flustered all over again. Giggling breathily you had to admit he was a massive flirt when he wanted to be and he flustered you so easily it was almost pathetic.

Filling out all your details and your questions about changing from accounting to architecture and whether that would affect your finances and scholarship you hit send and hoped that you would get an answer before the start of classes. Checking the time you got yourself ready for work, when you finally emerged from your solitude you found Seungmin and Jeongin booting up the game console in the lounge so they could play something while you went to get a snack.

“Guys I’m thinking about doing something drastic and I want your opinion” you announced flopping onto the other couch to watch them play.

“Is it drastically stupid like sleeping with Felix? Or is it drastic like quitting your job?” Seungim asked jokingly, not looking at you.

“I’m thinking of changing my degree” you confessed, making Jeongin drop his controller and Seungmin hit pause immediately so they could both gawk at you.

“You're dropping out of accounting?” Jeongin blinked at you confused.

“Well I’d change from accounting to something I would rather do, since being an accountant is what my parents wanted me to be” you explained carefully.

“What would you change it to?” Seungmin asked, perplexed that you were going to give up a degree you were working so hard on.

“Architecture, that’s what I wanted to do” you continued the corners of your lips turning upward as you watched their confusion melt away into encouraging smiles.

“You should do it, shouldn’t she Seung? You should follow the career you want” Jeongin nodded excitedly, elbowing Seungmin.

“Fuck yeah you should” Seungmin grinned “If it will make you happy then do it you would be incredible at it”.

“Even if it means I would have to move back into the dorms because I couldn’t pay to live here anymore? Even if it means a whole extra year added to my studies? Even if it means my scholarship might be in jeopardy?” you stressed each question falling as rapidly as gunfire from your lips.

“Yes” Seungmin nodded earnestly “Absolutely”.

“Your so smart and have such good grades you could probably get another scholarship or even a full ride one so you wouldn’t have to worry about your parents anymore at all” Jeongin’s eyes lit up as he thought up ideas for how to work around any obstacles “You wouldn’t need to move we could totally cover your rent for a while anyway until you either got a better job than the coffee shop or you started getting Study Aid payments”.

“You couldn’t do that Innie! I wouldn’t let you” you insisted back gently not wanting to sound ungrateful for his support but also not willing to take advantage of him.

“We could and we would” Seungmin shrugged “But that is getting way ahead of ourselves anyway”. Easily dismissing the idea before it could become a proper issue between you all “We would only need to worry about that if it came to it”.

“So I guess don’t think it's a stupid idea then?” you sighed feeling like it mustn’t be that far fetched if the smartest of your friends thought it wasn’t dumb.

“It’s a great idea, you should talk to Han about it. He changed his degree after only half a semester when he first started because he realized he hated what he had chosen” Jeongin added, picking up his controller again.

“I’ll even say dating a man whore isn’t a dumb idea if he gets you to make decisions about doing things that you want to do for your life instead of living for your parents” Seungmin waggled his eyebrows at you.

“Seung fuck off” you grumbled thowing a cushion at him and going to make a coffee “I could have way stupider ideas like telling my parents I want to change career options…. Or dating Minho”.

You had been at work for a little over an hour when you noticed Changbin and Chan wander in, each giving you a little wave before grabbing a seat in the back corner of the cafe still deep in their own conversation. From your spot behind the coffee machine you could see that it seemed to be a serious chat between the two of them with Changbin looking slightly annoyed at whatever Chan was saying but your attention instantly turned to the register when you heard Han’s voice ordering their drinks. He moved over towards the end of the counter where you were working leaning casually against the wood countertop.

“Hey, you still up for dinner with the three of us tomorrow?” He greeted you energetically while watching you steam another jug of milk.

“Of course, unless you have more exciting plans” you giggled watching him start bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet.

“Nope, getting to hang out with you without Seung and Innie is a treat we will not pass up” Han informed you with an overly dramatic wink.

“I’ll bring your drinks over to you. I'm due my first break by then” you smiled gesturing him to go and sit down, which he did joining back into their conversation. You made the four drinks Han had ordered, confused about the fourth but still, but took them over all the same after slipping off your apron and grabbing your phone. One of your other coworkers had already delivered the food that Han had ordered and they were already picking at a basket of fries by the time you got to the table

“The last ones for you before you ask” Han interrupted your thoughts making you huff out a small laugh on your way to put the tray back on the counter before joining them again.

“So where are we going for dinner and what time?” you asked, looking between them for answers. 

“The new fancy burger place a few blocks from here and what time do you finish?” Changbin replied, taking his first sip of coffee and closing his eyes to enjoy it “God I needed coffee”.

“Happy to provide it” you nodded and I’ll be finished at 7 tomorrow” you smiled.

“Oh we will meet you here then if you like, you don’t need to get changed, it's just a burger place” Chan stated easily “unless you want to go home and change, in which case I’ll pick you up from the apartment if that’s better for you?”.

“I’m not making you drive to my place and get me since it’s the opposite direction Chan” you sighed “but I will go home and change. I'm too clumsy to stay perfectly clean for a whole shift”.

“Easy We will pick you up at 7:45 then” Chan grinned, making Han laugh and you roll your eyes.

“None of us are letting you walk that far after it's gotten dark” Changbin smirked, “just let him win”.

“Fine you win! 7:45 at the apartment then” you groaned playfully while drinking the iced coffee Han had so generously ordered for you.  

“There is a party that the others are all heading to that we were thinking about hitting tonight” Han added meeting your eyes “It will be larger than the last one but we will look after you, even get the manwhores in on it inbetween their slutty behaviors”.

“I’ll think about it” you relented knowing that you would end up going because you were feeling that it was greedy to steal Felix away from his friends constantly. “Oh! Changbin I forgot Hana asked me to give you her number if you were remotely interested” you looked at him happily to change the topic of conversation.

“Hana? Do I know a Hana?” Changbin narrowed his eyes and poked the tip of his tongue out between his lips as he thought hard about who this mystery girl was.

“She’s the coworker who thought you were cute the other day” you giggled making him relax as Han and Chan chuckled at him.

“Oh yeah you said that, sure” he shrugged, opening his phone for you to add her details.

“It’s only if you want though I didn’t promise her anything” you added as you saved her number and slid his phone back to him.

“Changbin has had his eye on someone but I think he may have figured out it’s one-sided” Han teased mercilessly, picking up several fries and shoving them in his mouth as Changbin glared at him.

“Not like he did anything about it so how would she even have known?” Chan added snickering as the flush that was forming on Changbin’s cheeks deepened.

“Don’t listen to them if she knows but doesn’t act on it she is dumb” you smiled sweetly at Changbin hoping to make him feel better “But if she doesn’t know that’s on you big guy because I’m sure you’re a catch”.

“Yeah I was slow on it and she’s interested in someone else I’m pretty sure, but Hana was pretty but I’m not sure if she’s your friend you have shown you have poor taste” Changbin retorted but smiled at you regardless.

“Wow. I mean sure blame me for the fact that the man whore’s caused problems” you spluttered jokingly. “Especially since pretty much all my friends are your friends too. What does that say about you?”. 

“So are any of you going to tell me who the girl was or am I going to have to guess?” you smirked remembering that Seungmin had flippantly told you that Changbin would be crushed by the news of your dating status change.

“Umm… that isn’t important but I have heard a strange rumor from Minho” Han butted in, raising his eyebrows at you.

“Oh yeah and what would that be?” you tried sounding sarcastic but it instead sounded flat, you knew that Minho must have already started dropping hints to the others hoping to catch you out.

“Apparently that hoodie you wore to our place wasn’t yours, apparently it belongs to a guy” he smirked, taking a sip of his coffee and looking straight at you.

“So this juicy rumor is that I borrowed a hoodie?” you replied dryly, pursing your lips to contain the laugh that was trying to escape you.

“When you say it like that it doesn’t sound as suspicious” Han whined admitting his defeat by shoving some more fries in his mouth and grumbling around them.

“But ok then I admit it, it wasn’t my hoodie” you chuckled watching him sulk as Chan raised his eyebrows ready to question you again but you cut him off by standing up and grabbing your almost finished drink. “My break is over, I'll see you later”. 

Going back behind the counter and putting your apron back on you quickly let Felix know what you were doing, he could be the one to decide how public your dating would be and you would just go with it.

Lix I think I want to go to the party tonight xx

Not waiting for an answer you began making more coffees for the orders that had come in during the changeover between your break and your co workers. Hoping the rest of the shift wouldn’t drag on too much and that Chan didn’t come over to ask you any more questions.

I’ll pick you up baby. 

Fuck I’ve missed you I hope you don’t mind if I can’t keep my hands off you.

Unless you don’t want me too ;)

Blood rushed to your cheeks as his messages came in one after the other making you feel almost dizzy, you mentally slapped yourself and tried desperately to concentrate on work.

You rushed home after your shift to give you time to get ready, Seungmin was showering when you got in so you passed his room completely before knocking on Jeongin's door.

"What's up?" he questioned, opening the door for you but going instantly back to his bed where he was putting together possible outfits for the night.

"Innie you have a far better fashion sense than me. Can I get some advice?" you grimaced knowing he was going to either tease you or complain about your entire wardrobe.

"Are you coming with us tonight?" his eyes widened excitedly. “Do you need my help to make you look hot for your new boyfriend?”.

"I was going to go with you but if you’re going to tease me all night I won’t. I thought I should ask you for help because maybe I should look at least a little bit nicer. Especially since it will be the first time I'm at a frat party with Felix, and I don't actually know IF he's even going to acknowledge that we are together in public yet. But I don't want him to be disappointed that I didn't make an effort to look nice and not embarrass him" you rambled until you almost ran out of breath leaving Jeongin looking at you like you were unintentionally hilarious but that he understood your concerns so he was trying really hard not to laugh at you.

"Felix doesn’t care how you dress, obviously, and I’m sure he would never be embarrassed by you either'' Jeongin shook his head letting a small giggle escape his throat.

“Thank you Innie” you sighed heavily, chewing on your lip as he looked you over. 

"Come on let's see what I can do with your terrible closet" he sighed dramatically walking out of his room and towards yours while you huffed and followed him dragging your feet. Jeongin basically emptied your entire wardrobe looking at everything you owned frowning, sighing, rolling his eyes and then frowning again.

"We are going shopping after this" he grumbled putting his hand up towards you without even looking at you "that is a statement not a request your clothes are tragic".

"I'm not going to be taking up partying Innie" you sulked instantly realizing how much of your savings he would insist you blow on clothes that were unimportant anyway since you might not be able to afford them later.

"Stop thinking so hard" Seungmin smirked from the doorway no doubt hearing the conversation while he was getting dressed. "He won't let you pay for it so you might as well make it easier for yourself".

"So do I have anything worthy of wearing or should I just stay home so I don't cause you a lifetime of shame for being seen with me?" you whined as Jeongin held out his hands with a large black lump of fabric in it.

"This skirt and top with a pair of tights, black preferably but your lace once would work too, with your boots and I will lend you a jacket if you promise not to get it filthy" he smiled pleased with his decision.

"Alright if you are sure'' you nodded, smiling relieved as you were not sure if you would regret this but at least Jeongin deemed this to be enough to not embarrass yourself in public. Jeongin left your room shoving Seungmin playfully as he passed, letting the door swing shut behind him. Pondering your decision one last time you pulled your shirt over your head and started undoing your jeans.

"Wear a nice bra too, would you" Jeongin yelled through the door making you jump.

"Innie!" you screamed feeling both panicked and annoyed at his audacity, you heard him laugh again as you begrudgingly followed his instructions and found a nicer bra to put on instead of the plain pale blue one you had on. You were annoyed when you looked at yourself in the mirror and realized he had been right, even down to the bra, you did look considerably better than you usually looked even when you tried to look pretty but you were never going to admit that. The black top clung to you in a flattering way and the skirt fell just past your mid thigh. Your black tights gave you a little more cover and you knew your boots would make it look casual enough to not look overdressed. Scrunching up your face you went into the bathroom to touch up your makeup and finish getting ready.

Going back into the lounge you were not expecting to find both of your roommates waiting for you to show them your outfit but both nodded approvingly as you carried your combat boots out with you.

“I would say I have excelled given how boring your clothes are” Jeongin poked fun at you again while motioning for you to turn around so he could see the full outfit.

“Pretty” Seungmin smiled before looking down at his phone “Should we grab something on the way or order in?”.

“Order in” you suggested going into the kitchen to look what there may have been in the fridge to snack on.

“Easy, did you want a lift with us? Is Felix coming to get you?” Seungmin continued tapping away on his phone ordering whatever it was he wanted.

“He said he would pick me up” you called your head still in the fridge frowning because you were sure it had only been a few days since Jeongin had been shopping and there was hardly any food left. You could hear them bickering about how how much tteokbokki to order on the side so when the buzzer for the lobby doors sounded you knew you would need to answer it, pressing the button you couldn’t help the smile that graced your lips when you saw Felix, who blew you a kiss, in the video screen. 

“I’ve ordered” Seungmin called down the hall going back to whatever he was doing before you left your room. A soft knock drew your attention straight back to the door which you tried not to wrench open too quickly.

“Shit baby” Felix whistled looking you up and down before stepping inside and pulling you into his arms to kiss you gently “you look too good”. You shyly buried your head into his shoulder, slapping him softly on his shoulder.

“Come in we're just waiting on some food so the boys don’t get annihilated again” you took his hand and led him down the hallway only to stop as soon as you entered the lounge room unsure if you should be holding Felix’s hand or if that was considered too childish.

“Hey Felix” Seungmin nodded, grabbing his game controller. “Want a match before we leave?” 

 “You mean you want me to beat you before we go out? Odd form of foreplay but whatever” Felix smirked, stepping around you and going over to the couch where Seungmin was already loading whatever game he wanted to play.

“Here I said I would give you a jacket” Jeongin smiled, handing you a black and white leather varsity jacket. You just smiled gratefully placing it on the dining table beside your purse not noticing that Felix kept sneaking glances at you or that Seungmin was fully taking advantage of that to take out Felix’s character earning a loud shout from him.

After eating the four of you left for the party your nerves start to wreak havoc with your thoughts as you squeeze into the back of the Uber between Jeongin and Felix, the latter wrapping his arm around your shoulders to keep you tucked against him. Pulling up to the house you could see just how many people were milling around in the front yard and on the porch you subconsciously wrapped Jeongin’s jacket around yourself tighter as you stepped from the car. You had been told by several of the guys that it was going to be a far larger party than the last one but you hadn’t really registered how much bigger until Felix wrapped his arms around you from behind kissing your ear.

“I’m with you, nothing will happen” the feeling of his warm breath on your sensitive skin made you shiver letting him take your hand and interlace your fingers to lead you inside to find your mutual friends.

“Finally Lix! Minho has already fucked off and I need a wingman for that set of twins I met last week” Hyunjin called over the thumping bass.

“Yeah Nah” Felix laughed, making it through the last line of people and moving you in front of him, his arms around your waist again.

“Fuck me you’re at another party! Minho owes me” Hyunjin cackled, not even looking disappointed that Felix turned him down.

“Woah, woah, woah. What the fuck is this?” Han spat a mouthful of beer out barely missing covering Changbin with a mist of beer.

“Hi guys” you waved, not sure if your voice was loud enough to be heard over the music. At Felix’s urging you moved between the guys and the coffee table to the couch that sat at the back of the room, Felix sat pulling you into his lap letting you get comfortable so you could see everyone, his hands finding their place on your hips.

“So this is new” Chan blinked, returning with another armful of beers from somewhere.

“Um yeah, it is” you smiled unsure of how to answer Chan since although you were together you hadn’t really announced anything.

“Felix” Changbin warned, sounding annoyed but also wary.

“Her roomies know and they are ok with it, so don’t start” Felix groaned.

“I can make my own decisions guys” you interrupted “and I am literally right here” you rolled your eyes as Seungmin returned with a plastic cup handing it to you.

“It’s lemonade and I’ll see you in a bit, yeah?” he grinned looking back towards some girl you assumed before disappearing into the crowd again.

“Congratulations are in order then” Han smiled tilting his bottle towards you.

Talking turned into taking the piss and the drunker the guys all got the funnier they were, Seungmin had slinked back to join you all looking far more disheveled than he needed to be with a fresh hickey on his neck and a deep blush that flared up as soon as Changbin mentioned it. Hyunjin disappeared and didn’t return because you assume he had managed to convince the twins to give him a shot without help and Minho finally appeared looking like the cat that got the cream. 

“You know” Minho started a conspiratorial smirk plastered on his face “I think if one of you knocked on the last bedroom door upstairs Hyunjin might need a hand” he put his hands up as though it was an innocent suggestion. “Just saying”. You could feel the rumble of laughter that rumbled through Felix’s ribcage into your back from where you sat on his lap as Han lept from the couch and took off with a tipsy crooked run that it was either going to be a good night for him or an utter disaster. 

You felt more and more comfortable the longer you sat listening to them talk and watching people come and go, you could still feel eyes burning into you now and then as though people couldn’t believe that you were sitting in Felix’s lap for so long with him seemingly completely happy with it. Finally you needed to move so you could pee, making your way through the throngs of drunk people you made your way upstairs to the bathroom avoiding as many couples hooking up in the hallways and behind closed doors as possible. Waiting behind a group of girls to use the bathroom you heard them gossiping. You tried to tune them out, frowning as one of them blew smoke all over you not even noticing you were there, you rolled your eyes as you watched them share a horrible neon pink drink that looked like it would glow in the dark, you still didn’t like parties.  When you returned downstairs to where you had left the guys you found there was only Jeongin still sitting and waiting for you looking a little worse for wear.

“Aw Innie, do I need to get you home?” you giggled patting his hair before he got up swaying slightly under the influence of the alcohol.

“Maybe” he laughed, grabbing your jacket and pulling you along until you were on the back porch almost causing the two of you to fall over the threshold. “I found her” he sang, holding your arm up like a prize. 

“Here I thought Seungmin was the puppy” Changbin roared laughing as Seungmin tried to kick his shins and failed miserably.

“Baby, did you want to go?” Felix asked, an unlit cigarette dangling from his fingers. 

“I think Innie needs to go home and by the looks of it Seung too” you sighed as Seungmin frowned, still pointing at Changbin. “You can stay, it's fine”.

“Nah if you leave I leave simple as that” Felix grinned tucking the cigarette behind Minho’s ear as he stepped around Chan to get to you, his fingertips sliding under the seam of your top. “Besides I’ll get us a cab”.

“Are you sure?” you pushed gently as he tucked his phone away “I don’t want to ruin your fun”.

“You will never ruin my fun baby” he smirked, pulling you against him and kissing you deeply to the cheers of the guys around you which only made you hide your face in his chest.

A/N: I'm sorry that it was a fairly slow chapter but thanks for sticking with me all the same I will try to update this more frequently but I'll have to see how I go. Love you all to bits xxx

Taglist (open): @christopher-bangnaldoskzz @armystay89 @damnyouficc @roamingpolar @bakedlilgoonie @shiy @is2cb97 @beautifulixr @skyhold-tara @army-stay-noel @skizzel-reblogs @facelesswrittes @animehideout @mrsseals16 @honey-pop @fawnpeaks @leeknowinggg @uno7 @seungminluv3 @obeythemasters @tanzen-ist-gold @thicccurls @juskz @3rachasninja @reiheis @partyparty-yah @leeknowyah @warren-thedarkangel @highlydestiny

[s0ulspen]

I CARE 4 YOU

[shuririweek, day 1: fluff]

summary: basic sick-fic. Shuri is hella stubborn, that’s abt it.

A/n: Ive had to redo this a good 3 times. Anyway, this was requested on my old acc and I’ve finally finished up, hopefully whoever requested this is still around 😭

@shuririweek @mal-urameshi @neptoons1998

I love going on missions. More than anything. But this one had to get cut short once I got news of Shuri being sick. I’ve only been gone for 48 hours, I’ve just landed back from a mission only to hear that my beautiful wife is sick. And I thought that shit was a joke because how the fuck does she get sick? She’s got one of the most powerful plants in her system and not only that we’ve got the most advanced technology known to man.

I crack the bedroom door open only to find Shuri turned into a mass of blankets wrapped up in our thick comforter. I drop my duffel bag in front of the door and walk towards her, peeling away the layers of the covers.

I hear her heavy breathing and I see her pretty face in real-time for the first time in 2 days. Her cheeks are hot and sweat dampens her skin.

“Hey, baby…” I whisper doing my best to keep my volume down. She doesn’t respond, her eyes shut close and her body curled into itself. I gather her in my arms and it’s enough for her to blink her pretty eyes open.

The white in her eyes is red and her skin is damn near dripping.

“Have you not had any medicine?” I question, whether she shouldn’t be doing this bad with how much tech we have. But knowing her, she’s so damn stubborn. I should know better than to ask, her throat is probably scratchy.

“I’m fine.” She mumbles trying to turn around but her body is too weak to.

I move her curls out of the way and look at her clothing, my red MIT sweats and a white shirt, the same outfit she was in when I last FaceTimed her right before landing.

She hasn’t left her room at all, I’m assuming while I peel back her shirt to feel how damp it is, I touch the skin along her abdomen and it’s hot to the touch.

I grab her wrist to navigate her kimoyo beads and begin to administer some herbal medicine.

“Griot, give me Shuri’s Stats please,” I order.

“Griot, don’t do that.” She groans, grabbing my wrist.

“I’m sorry, Your Highnesses, whose orders do I follow?” Griot questions and she reacts too slowly for him to catch anything.

“Mine,” I answer clearly.

“The Queen’s temperature is at 101 degrees Fahrenheit, she’s been in and out of sleep for 30 hours, her heart rate is at 69 beats per minute,”

The only thing alarming is her temperature.

“Shuri, I ain't tryna scold you right now, but why didn’t you say nothing?” I ask only for her to groan.

“M’fine, it happens.”

“Walk then,” I tell her and she looks at me like I’m crazy. Then she rubs her eyes and sits up slowly. She’s only sitting up because I’m supporting her back so I let go only for her back to hit the bed.

“Fuck off.” She curses and it makes me laugh harder than I have all week. When I’m done laughing, I help her off the bed and onto the sofa bed that’s across from it.

I change the sheets for her to her favorite dark purple ones and clean up all the stuff she’s left around the room.

“Griot, did the Queen get her shots this year?” I ask, I’m not sick and no one else in the citadel is. I settle next to her and she’s not asleep, just blinking slow as fuck.

“Yes, however, it had left her system once she took the herb,”

She had a challenge to the throne a week ago by someone from the river tribe, and she was fine at first. Maybe that entire month of training drained her body a lot.

“Is there any other reason why she could be so sick?”

“The Queen hasn’t had a sufficient amount of water in a couple of days, Her body is also trying to handle the effects of the herb being back in her body,” Griot says as I place her head onto my thighs and watch her lie down. Her lips are parted just a little and her breathing is so shallow.

“I’m fine like I’m okay,” She insists.

“Dude, literally shut up,” I say and it earns me a dopey smile.

She’s shaking a little and her clothes are nearly drenched I feel her forehead with the back of my hand. She’s nowhere near burning up. Her skin feels normal just damp. What the fuck is goin on?

I’m confused, this AI ain’t helping me, I hate this.

I get up slowly so I don’t move too fast. I’ve spent days bandaging her up as she has for me but this is sickness, not wounds. There’s not a single scientific explanation I can think of that explains this.

“Griot, what should I do?”

“Keep her awake, A very hot shower should help, a couple of herbs can be found in the garden that should be able to ease her pain, I’ll make a list for you and you may demand it once ready.”

Sounds like a plan.

….

“Shuri, get in the shower,” I order only for her to glare at me.

“No, you don’t see how hot it is? Are you mad?” She asks, sniffling while steam fills up the bathroom.

“You’ve fought wars, Shuri, get in the shower, ‘it’ll help I swear,” I tell her. She’s always been so picky about the temperature in the shower which is one of the reasons why we can’t ever shower together. She loves her a cold shower and I can’t stand it. I wouldn’t take a cold shower if you paid me. She says they help her get ready for the day but I would never.

“You already naked man, just get in the water,” I mutter, she’s only in a towel and she’s already undressed. I need her to just get in.

“A’ight listen, man, If you don’t get in the damn shower-“

“Then what?” She challenges, letting out a little cough while she’s at it. I’ve lifted her before, that’s only happened recently. I wasn’t able to do that when I first met her. But I’ll do it again if I have to.

“Shuri, please, it’s not that bad.” She steps closer and puts her hand out to feel the water.

“It’s too hot.”

“I’ll get in with you.” I offer.

“I guess it’s not so bad then.”

…

“Shuri, open your mouth,” I tell her, calmly as I pour the syrup into a cup. She looks at me in disgust and shakes her head like a kid. It’s medicinal syrup, made here that I take when I’m sick and I feel better by the morning.

But unlike Shuri, I ain’t this fucking stubborn.

She turns over in bed till she’s lying on her back. After a couple of seconds, her mouth opens slightly for her to breathe.

“Fine.” She groans before taking it all in one sip. Her lips curl in disgust before she lifts the comfort over her body and I can hear her breathing as she huffs. She turns so her back faces me.

“You’re acting like a kid.” I chuckle when she coughs.

“You’re the height of one.”

“You sure you sick? ‘Cause you got a lot of slick-ass comments.” She doesn’t say anything and I realize it’s because she’s finally asleep.

We end up falling asleep soon after and she wakes up, refreshed, earlier than I do. Like she was never sick. I have to get back to my mission but I wake up feeling dizzy, my head is pounding.

I feel her hand on my forehead, gently caressing my baby hairs while I do my best to sit up.

“Tell them you can’t make it to the mission.” She murmurs.

[in-my-shifting-era]

Not In The Mood

(Draco Malfoy Angsty but ends Fluffy)

Summery: Having a playful academic rivalry with Draco Malfoy results in some mainly playful banter. What happens when reader has a bad week and Draco is the only person to try and fix it.

Warning: Some mature language. Maybe some strong language. Draco is kinda a softie in this.

Authors note: Draco won my poll! This is my first blurb of him for let me know what we think.

————————————————————————————————————————

You’ve been having a bad week. On Monday you got detention for being late to class because your alarm didn’t go off. Tuesday you spilt ink on your brand new uniform shirt. On Wednesday you snapped at your best friend and she’s giving you space. Then on Thursday you lost 15 house points for laughing at a prank pulled on Snape during class. When Friday came around you prayed it would be a good day. All was good throughout the day. That was until you got back your Transfigurations test from the last class and getting a bad mark.

To get away from the week you’ve had you decided to hide away in the Hogwarts library to try an escape into your new book. This plan didn’t last very long because a smug laugh interrupted your peaceful moment. “How did I know I’d find you here? A bore like you would spend their Friday evening in the library.” You looked up from your book to see Draco with his signature smirk as he leaned against the shelf you were sat by. You gave him and exhausted sigh and closed your book. “I’m not in the mood for your shit Malfoy; I’ve had a bad week.”

Your voice was flat. You didn’t really sound annoyed or rude with your words. To the blonde you just sounded numb. He wasn’t getting the rise out if you that he wanted. He shifts himself off the shelf to stand closer as his playful gaze softens. “Yeah I’ve kinda noticed you’ve been in a mood all week. I even heard you called Granger a stick in the mud. I actually want to talk about what happened their?” He’s pushing at your buttons but you won’t give him the satisfaction of his comment getting you to talk back to him.

Rolling your eyes at his comment you look at him fully now “Seriously Draco leave me alone. I’m on a streak of saying things I regret and I’d refuse to apologize to you if I hurt your feelings.” Your tone was playful this time making Draco’s lips turn up into the slightest smile. You take this moment of neutrality to get up and put your book back into your bag. You start to walk around him. You’re stopped when You from walking past him by stepping in your way.

“Go for a walk with me. Going for a walk always helps me clear my head” A look of uncertainty falls onto your face not knowing what to think of Draco’s offer. Draco notices your hesitation and sighs softly. “Don’t be a stick in the mud now. I promise to play nice.”

A smirk finds its way back to Draco’s face as you roll your eyes and give him a playful glair. You push your shoulder against him playfully as you walk past him towards the door. “ Can you do something nice for someone without making a snarky comment Malfoy?” He smiles to himself seeing your attitude return and follows behind you. “What would be the fun in that? My snarky comments are part of my charm darling.” You roll you eyes at him and let out a small laugh as you walk out of the library with him.

The comfortable silence that followed as you two walked the empty corridors brought you a small moment of peace. You look at the blonde and see his usually tense and guarded demeanor is replaced with an comforting presence. His eyes scan the many paintings that line the halls of Hogwarts. He turns his head having felt you staring into him and cover yourself by asking him a question.

“How did you know about my test score? We don’t have Transfigurations together so I know you didn’t see it some how.” Draco looks down lightly and let’s out an awkward laugh. “Uh Blaise actually told me. He sits near you and he told me you looked disappointed when you got your test back.” You give him shocked look. “Do you have your friend keeping tabs on me Draco?”

Draco scoffs lightly and rolls his eyes. “ No I don’t. He knows about our academic banter and he was telling me to leave you alone on this one. I had to still poke my fun but I wanted to make sure you were okay. Failing a test is not like you at all so I figured something more was going on.” He gave you a sympathetic smile as he says this. Something you’ve never seen often from the tough Slytherin.

Your demeanor softens and you smile up at him. “You’re the only person to notice I was struggling this week so thanks Draco.” A soft smile fall onto his face Draco’s face. He hold your gaze with his gray eyes staring into yours. “I may like to get under you skin sometimes but never aim to intentionally be cruel do you.”

In this moment you’re seeing a side of Draco you’ve never seen before. The burning blush that hides on your cheeks as you both bicker back an fourth if fully dusting your cheeks a rosey red. Talking like this with Draco feels nice. You like seeing this side of Draco. Truly you bring it out of him. Through he would never admit that.

[kiyoitiepie]

My Favorite BL Dramas of 2023

happy new year to everyone who uses the gregorian calendar. we had so much good content come out this year. i'm gonna list my favs. please remember these are my personal faves and may be objectively terrible. do not be alarmed.

My Beautiful Man S2 and Movie

If you ask me this series is one of the best bls of all time. idc idc. im a hira and kiyoi girlie through and through. how many bl's do you know with 2 seasons and an original movie. not those repackaged ones that they try to hand feed us. an actual movie with a plot???? the bar is on the floor clearly. but hira and kiyoi are gonna surpass that bar every. single. time.

Love Tractor

I didn't hear enough people screaming about Love Tractor. crickets tbh. Which is blasphemous in my opinion. How could you be quiet when this lovely bumbling himbo with the dopiest grin is on your screen? look at him!!

Eighth Sense

10's across the board. No question. No notes.

this scene^ BROKE me

Our Dining Table

Ok hear me out. I didn't think this was the best bl in the world BUT it was so wholesome that it deserves a spot. top tier comfort show. It got me through many bad days. Admittedly, there were a few times I purposely put it on bc i knew it would put me to sleep. please don't jump me.

Unintentional Love Story

Now...I'm not a huge kbl person. However, this was really nice. Had a solid plot. I don't remember much abt it but I know there was pottery and I had a good time

Only Friends

This was culture. This was a movement. I will never forgive them for how they treated Boston. Even still, I was there every week ready for the chaos. I had the time of my life.

Bed Friend

It's hard to believe this came out this year. Like ??? But really that shows how much I've established this show as a classic in my mind. BED FRIEND? UEA? baddest bitch in the land?? KING? greenest flag out there???? (debatable but for the sake of my argument lets pretend). It had every element. good plot, great visuals, a little heat. like come on who else is doing it like them?

i just know if me and uea were ever in the same room he would judge me so much

Dangerous Romance

I've seen mixed reviews on this one but I had a fun time. Kanghan is a prissy little spoiled brat, but he's my prissy little spoiled brat. I loved their story progression. Which is saying a lot for me bc I don't like enemies to lovers. like why are we fighting? also "i'm an introvert" is the funniest shit i've heard all year.

La Pluie

this was so shockingly good i wish it got more attention. iqiyi in general really did their big one this year. when it rains you can only hear your soulmate? love!

Laws of Attraction

this was a rollercoaster. i started watching ironically because i thought it would be terrible when i saw the mc go super saiyan. that shit is still hilarious idc.

Love Syndrome III

Now before we start throwing tomatoes...let's hear me out. Nothing has caught my attention this year the way this series did. This was another series I was watching ironically until suddenly i wasn't. It's also just so funny that they released the third one without dropping a first or second. but bad bitches don't need to explain themselves. and YES love syndrome is a bad bitch. let's stop acting like we watch bl's solely for the quality. i don't need marvel cgi to have a good time. sometimes a dollar store wig and the most toxic couple you've ever seen is enough to make some shit shake. if this was released during the tharntype era??? oh bitches would've ate it up. HAPPILY. rant over.

Last Twilight

it's good man. what more can i say? i hope it doesn't disappoint me in the end.

Pit Babe

i'm very pleased. very much so. i know alot of folks went into this show expecting a little teehee. to laugh at the omegaverse racecar show. NOT ME. i've waited for this moment. and anyone who's seen me screaming in the tag can attest. this is a game changer. not just for bl but the fandom community at large. and don't even get me started on their chemistry. babe's smile whenever he's around charlie?? mama and papa?? MAMA AND FUCKING PAPA?? we deserve this and i will bask in it for as long as I can. jeff had better be pregnant by the end of the show.

^ that’s his charlie smile 🥲