#i've still got another ask and i'll get to that one soon don't worry | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nicksolemnlyswears · 1 year ago

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THE BEAR AND THE BEE HIVE

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

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

word count: 14.4k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Deal."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you sure?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you going far?"

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

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

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

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

"You really don't have to…"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Late night?"

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

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

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

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

Carmy smiles and softly chuckles, "Fair enough."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sorry for assuming," he raises his palms.

"You're forgiven," you chirp.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"So, rebellion or something else?"

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

"Did it work?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Only a couple of blocks away. Why?"

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

"Thanks," you respond with a small smile.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Night," he whispers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You sure?" He asks once more.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes, chef!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Chef, your girl is here."

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

"Here you go."

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

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

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

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

"Yes, Chef!"

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

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

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

"You too, Neil!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What about your famous pizza?"

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

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

"Lead the way, Mr. Berzatto."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That rough," you grimace.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What good does he have to offer you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Then don't."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It's been so fuckin' long.

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

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

"Look at me," you sweetly say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Carmen, please."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You like when I fuck you like this?"

"Yes, yes, yes, keep going."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fuckin' amazing," he adds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Exactly! Someone gets it!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What do you think?" You ask expectantly.

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

The End?

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

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

thank you! bye xx

#carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #fanfiction #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fanfiction #the bear fanfiction #the bear #carmy x reader #carmy x you #carmy x fem!reader

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zhukzucraft · 10 months ago

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=====>

Impulse: Martyn?

Impulse: What's up, dude!

Impulse: Are you having a fit of Nether Envy?

Skizz: Dippledop!

Skizz: Did you finally get the goodies for the golden booties?

Impulse: Sure did!

Skizz: Nice! I'm gonna tell Scarface & co you're coming soon.

Impulse: Could you take care of the smelting for us, Mr. Game Master Man?

Tango: Well gee, how can I not when you ask so nicely!

Martyn: Wait, you're going to the Nether? Now?

Impulse: I am! Unless Skizz decides to reclaim his spot, that is.

Skizz: Well uh

Mumbo: I think it's best we don't gamble our waning amount of lives on a resource run.

Skizz: Yeah what Jumbo Jet said!

Impulse: My god you're so whipped, dude.

Skizz: AM NOT!!

Tango: Your order's ready! One pair of booties coming up!

Impulse: Thanks dude! I'll grab the quartz and be right ba-

Martyn: Quartz. Got it. I'll hook you up.

Impulse: wh-

Tango: Okay, bring some glowstone too if you find any~

Impulse: Wait wait wait wait

Impulse: You can't just grab a man's boots like that!

Martyn: Tough, I just did.

Impulse: Come on, man! I was raring to go!

Martyn: And now you'll get to experience the joy of anticipation for even longer! You're welcome.

Impulse: You-

Impulse: Listen-

Impulse: You don't have to risk your life for our redstone components!!

Martyn: No worries, I was going to go to the Nether regardless.

Martyn: You guys can just owe me double.

Impulse: Double?..

Joe: Long story.

Joe: But hey

Joe: Aren't you forgetting something?

Joe: Jimmy still hasn't come down.

=====>

Start Over -- Go Back

================================================

sorry for the long wait!! i was really sick for a week, in brain fog for about another week, and then i felt like i've lost the hang of making this story. i still don't feel confident about this post but i gotta start again somewhere! thanks for sticking around!

#quadruple life #life smp fan session #trafficblr #impulsesv #martyn inthelittlewood #martyn pov #joe hills #tangotek #skizzleman #mumbo jumbo #gif cw #mod zhuk

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writingwithciara · 6 months ago

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across the hall; part 1 -quinn hughes-

summary: y/n moves in across the hall from quinn and in an emergency, she leaves her five-year old daughter in his care

word count: 1.4k

pairing: quinn hughes x single mom reader

notes: probably going to make this into a mini series because i have too many ideas to fit them in 1 fic. enjoy

y/n was walking into her apartment when her mom called, telling her how worried she was.

"mom, will you relax? i'm going to be fine. it's safer for me out here anyway." y/n walked into her apartment and set her keys down on the counter. her daughter took her shoes off and ran to her bedroom.

"have you met any of your neighbors yet, sweetie?"

"no, mom. i haven't met anyone in the building yet and i don't plan on it any time soon. i've been really busy with work and stuff and just haven't had the time nor the interest in doing so. plus, you know how abby is with strangers."

"i would feel better if you made at least one friend, dear. you're all alone in vancouver. anything could happen to you."

"what if i meet the wrong person, mom? ever think about that?"

"that doesn't worry me because i know you'll trust your instincts."

"and that's why i haven't bothered to talk to anyone in the building yet. besides, it's only my first week here. there's still plenty of time."

"okay fine. but i want you to keep me updated at all times."

"yes ma'am." y/n switched the phone from one ear to the other. there was a knock on the door and she jumped. "i gotta go mom. dinner's here."

"alright. love you sweetie. give abby a kiss for me."

"will do. love you too. bye." she hung up the phone and opened the door. "about time. i'm starving." she looked up from her wallet. "wait, you're not the pizza guy."

"no, i am not. my name is quinn and i live across the hall there." he turned and pointed to the door behind him. "i noticed you just moved in recently and i thought i'd be neighborly and come say hi, see if you needed any help with anything."

"that's very kind of you, quinn. but so far, i've got things handled. thank you though."

"well, if you ever need my help with anything, you know where to find me." he smiled and turned back towards his own apartment. just as y/n was about to shut her door, quinn turned back around. "i'm sorry. i completely forgot to ask for your name."

"it's y/n."

"mommy, i'm hungry." abby came up to y/n and looked at her.

"i know, sweetie. the pizza should be here shortly."

"okay. i'll be in my room." the girl turned around and headed down the hallway.

"she's adorable. how old is she?"

"she's 5, almost 6."

"they're always the cutest at that age." quinn smiled. "well, it was nice to finally meet you, y/n. see you later." he waved and entered his own apartment, leaving y/n to finally close her door.

"hey, abby. want a snack to hold you over until dinner gets here?"

"yes please." abby came out of her room to grab a snack from her bucket and headed back to play with her dolls.

y/n was about to send a text to her mom, letting her know she finally met a neighbor, when there was another knock on her door.

"this better be the pizza." she opened the door and saw quinn standing there holding a pizza box.

"they brought it to the wrong apartment. but don't worry. it's paid for. the guy didn't have time to walk across the hall so i paid him."

"you really didn't have to do that, quinn. but thank you." y/n accepted the pizza and looked at him. "would you maybe want to come in for a slice or two?"

"sure." quinn followed y/n into her apartment and sat on one of the stools at the island.

"abby, dinner's ready."

"yay. pizza!" the little girl yelled and ran out of her room. she stopped in her tracks when she saw quinn. "hi."

"hello."

"quinn, this is my daughter abigail. sweetheart, this is quinn. he lives across the hall."

"do you have kids?"

"no. not yet."

"how old are you?"

"i'm 24."

"oh, so is mommy. she just had a birthday."

"did you really?" quinn turned his attention from abby to y/n.

"no." y/n set the plates down on the island and helped abby into her chair. "well, i didn't just have a birthday. it's been a few months now."

"oh. well i'll be 25 next month."

"in case i don't see you, happy birthday." y/n smiled and began eating her slice of pizza.

"thank you." quinn smiled back and looked at abby,

"shit." y/n pulled her ringing phone out of her pocket and answered it. "hello? yeah. i'll be right there." she hung up and looked at quinn. "i barely know you but i just got called into work for an emergency and abby's normal sitter is busy tonight. would you mind-"

"go to work. i'll watch your daughter."

"you are a lifesaver quinn." y/n ran to her room to get ready. she came out 5 minutes later. "this is crazy. it's my first night off and i was hoping to relax but of course there's an emergency when the hospital is short-staffed."

"oh, you work at the hospital? how are you liking it?"

"it keeps me busy and pays well. but it's a very demanding job. i don't get to spend as much time with abby as i would like."

"that's alright, mom. i understand."

"i love you, sweetheart. now, be on your best behavior for quinn. if you're good, we can get you some new toys this weekend. how's that sound?"

"like an easy task." abby smiled and looked at quinn.

"okay great. thanks again, quinn." y/n smiled and walked out the door.

"alright, abby. what do you want to do?"

"dolls, makeover, tea party?"

"sounds like fun. shall we add music?"

"yes! dance party! mommy never has time for one."

"then we shall have one." quinn went on his music app and put on some popular music that was age appropriate and followed abby to her room to get the makeover started.

after a few hours of playtime, they settled down and quinn put on a random disney movie. abby cuddled up to his side and fell asleep within the first 20 minutes.

when the movie was finished, quinn put on another one and waited for y/n to get home.

he was halfway through the third movie when y/n walked through the door.

"i am so sorry. it took a lot longer than i thought but-" she stopped when quinn put his finger to his lips to shush her. "awe look at that. she must really like you."

"why do you think that?"

"she never falls asleep for anyone other than me. and she loves her usual sitter."

"oh." quinn smiled and adjusted his legs as y/n picked abby up.

"mommy?" abby rubbed her eyes and when she saw it was her mom, she just cuddled into her more.

y/n put abby in her bed and made sure she went back to sleep before she headed back to quinn.

"thank you so much for doing this. i didn't expect to get called into work tonight." she went to hand quinn some money but he stopped her.

"you don't have to pay me. i had a lot of fun."

"was she good?"

"very good. and such a polite child."

"what did you guys do?"

"after you left, we played with her barbies for about half an hour. and when she got bored of that, we had a tea party and then she did my 'makeup'." quinn chuckled. "oh. and we had a mini dance party before i put on some movies for her to settle down to. she was out within the first 20 minutes."

"well, sounds like you had a good time and honestly, i can't thank you enough for watching her. i owe you."

"it's fine. like i said, i had fun. consider that my payment."

"you're the best." y/n walked with quinn out into the hall. he walked up to his door and looked back.

"if i'm not busy & you ever need someone to watch abby, i would be more than happy to do it."

"really? oh my gosh. you really are the sweetest person i've ever met."

"what can i say? my mother raised me right." quinn flashed her a smile and opened his door. "good night, y/n."

"good night, quinn."

-------

tags: @alwaysclassyeagle

#nhl #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine

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verus-animus · 6 months ago

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Hot Massage

"P-Please... S... S... Stop..." Jeremy tried to plead desperately, but his numb lips and face made it incredibly hard.

"Shhh... Don't speak. You'll only waste your energy." I shushed the handsome hunk that laid beneath me. Opening another bottle, I poured out the clear serum and massaged it into his firm chest. It quickly began heating up and his skin soften slightly.

"W-Why....." He asked. I could tell he was trying desperately to make his large muscles move, but unfortunately all it did was twitch his fingers.

"Why? I don't know, Jeremy... Maybe it's because of all those years back in high school that you bullied me and completely ruined my reputation and any chances of me getting into a good college, or maybe it's because of the 'accident' you caused which burned half of my face off... What do you think?" There was definitely a hint of anger within my voice, but I quickly calmed down and continued massaging his warm pliable chest.

"...I-I'm s-sorry...." He really meant it this time. Unlike all those other times he said it in front of his peers. But it didn't matter anymore.

"A bit too late for that, Jeremy... Even if I have forgiven you for all those years back then, the serum has already reached its full effect. There's really no going back now." I smothered my hands against his rippling skin and felt how they slowly began sinking into him. Into his flesh.

"...no...ah..." He gasped, as he felt me invade his very flesh. My elbows disappeared as I got closer and closer to his anguished numb face.

"Don't worry, you won't feel a thing. Once I push my head inside and overlap my brain onto yours, you'll never have a thought of your own again. From now on I'll control your every movement, your every breath, and your every heartbeat. It'll be my rugged hands running across these perfect pecs, my juicy ass squeezing dildos deeper inside, and my handsome scar-free face hungrily licking up all the residue from the bathroom mirror."

I gave his glazed-over eyes one last look and pushed my lips against his soft ones, before I plunged my entire head inside his. His fingers clenched together and he began gasping for air, as I moved around inside him and positioned myself correctly. As soon as I settled down my mind suddenly exploded with all of Jeremy's memories, dreams, and aspirations. I felt them embrace me and flow into me, until I felt myself own them as if they had always been mine.

I opened my new eyes just in time to see the last of the rippling effect on my new large chest settle down. As it did, I felt a torrent of unbridled cum unleash itself underneath the warm blanket.

It was done. Jeremy had taken everything from me back then; my life, my reputation, my future, my face... Now, I've taken it all back; the successful life, the promising future, and even the perfect face. This was a brand new start for me, the new Jeremy...

Happy New Year everyone! Thought I'd pop by and let you all know that I'm still around. I haven't been feeling very inspired lately, and with a lot of things going on in life I haven't really taken the time to properly write. Still, I thought I'd give you all a treat with this older draft I made a while back. Hope you all enjoy it, and perhaps you'll hear more from me this new year! /Verus <3

#possession #merge #revenge #identity theft

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corviiids · 3 months ago

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ficlet about how crow learns no healing skills but does know samerecarm (resurrect with full health)

warnings: blood, major character death but he gets better

Stupid, coming out here alone. No---that isn't the stupid part. Goro's been out here alone time and time again, he's been doing it for years. If anything, with Joker, he's got less to worry about than ever. That's the stupid part. They'd got cocky. Over the sound of their own laughter bouncing off the walls, both of them had missed the chains.

Joker's breathing is laboured. He's slumped into Crow's side. The next safe floor is three levels down, the previous is six up. Won't make it. Crow digs through Joker's pockets again. No Goho-Ms, no healing, just trinkets and dust. Joker's head lolls as Crow's hands rifle through his coat and trousers, body limp in Crow's arms. He's awake, though no better for it. The shelter they've found is tenuous. The Shadows are going to start respawning soon, and Crow's never going to get him out this way.

"Joker," he says. He snaps his fingers in front of Ren's face. Ren blinks. For half a moment, his eyes track Goro's hand. "Hey."

"Mm," Ren mumbles. Blood crawls sluggish and thick from a wound on the side of his head. He'll bleed out if this goes on much longer.

The way it is, that might be a mercy.

Crow can still fight, but not for two. Can still run but not with dead weight on his back. Goro snaps his fingers again. "Joker," he says more sharply. "Hey. I can't heal you. Do you understand? I haven't got any healing skills."

"Mm." Ren's eyes are starting to drift again.

"Hey." A slow death, bleeding out. Goro smacks the side of Ren's cheek, not hard, just enough to get his eyes to snap back again. Joker's mask lies discarded beside Goro's twisted knee, but there's nothing left in him to call Arsene. "I can't heal you. I've only got Samerecarm. Do you understand?"

It takes this Joker--the one who's slowly dying in Crow's arms--a little longer to understand than it would the one whose lifeblood isn't staining Crow's suit. Comprehension doesn't so much dawn as it does creep tentatively into Ren's dull eyes. He nods.

"Do you understand?" Goro asks again. Something in him suddenly needs desperately to be sure, to know Ren is sure. "If I do nothing, it'll be a moot point before long. I can't do it nice. Won't be quick. The gun's too loud and I can't waste Loki. But I'll do it quicker. That much I can promise." The pool of Ren's blood in his lap. "You get it, don't you, Joker?"

Another nod. The light is leaving Ren's eyes, but the hardness comes back. Red gloves tighten on Crow's sleeve, leaving dark smeared fingerprints.

The saber is too flashy. Crow's fingers slip into Joker's belt again, this time emerging with his dagger.

Goro pauses.

"Do you trust me?" he asks before he can think about it.

A third nod.

Crow grits his teeth.

Joker gasps as the blade plunges into his chest. His whole body seizes up. Blood pours from between his ribs, faster, more liquid than the steady ooze in his temple. Ren shakes in Goro's arms, soft noises choking out from his throat. It's not short, it's not painless. But he does slump, eventually. In less time than it would have taken his wounds unassisted. A thin line of blood creeps from the corner of his mouth; a little more bubbles and paints his lips.

Goro swallows. Letting Joker's body fall to the ground, he pulls off his mask and calls Robin Hood.

#rookfic #p5 #akeshu #bored @ work? time to kill joker persona 5 for yaoi #the inherent eroticism of only being able to save someone if you kill them first or something

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grumpysims · 5 months ago

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What Happened to Paywall CC Needs?

hii everyone! i've been getting a ton of messages asking what happened to my server, Paywall CC Needs. i'd just like to clear some stuff up since a lot of people think they were banned/kicked!! for starters: you weren't kicked or banned- don't worry! you and almost 10k members were removed due to Discord's Copyright Infringement policy.. basically the server was deleted due to Copyright. we have a feeling we know who did it since one of my mods got 2-3 copyright warnings for posting a specific creator. sadly, discord doesn't show who copyright claimed something and it doesn't give you any chance to get the server back once its deleted, so the server and.. all the cc is gone. so, where do we go from here? my mods and I are already brainstorming and working on another server. i will also be making a separate tumblr and possibly a website for the server so that if it is deleted yet again, we'll at least be able to communicate with you all better. I'm so sorry the server was deleted and there isn't a backup set up right away. truthfully, I didn't think the server would be deleted, and with what's going on irl, it wasn't on the top of my list of things to do.

please make sure to keep a look out on this tumblr, and on my instagram- cringetrait! I'll post updates there, and once the server is made I will update you all asap! ;-; thank you all for the support. I'm still so grateful that we got to almost 10k members. this server was my baby and my pride and joy, which I know sounds weird but.. i made it by myself with no help until later on, it truly was something special to me and you all made it special. so thank you so much. new server coming soon!

#paywall cc needs #sims 4 #the sims 4 #ts4

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emotaeyongie · 3 months ago

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It's Not So Bad, Is It? | i

business heir!Zhong Chenle x business heir!fem!reader

Genre: arranged marriage au, angst, fluff, eventual smut, non-idol au, series

Word Count: 1.8k words

Description: Who knew being stuck in an arranged marriage would get you here, with Zhong Chenle? It's not so bad, is it? It could always be worse. But with Chenle- it felt like hell.

Warnings: angst (with a good ending), neglect from family, reader and chenle are both emotionally unavailable freaks, swearing, smut, yearning, slow burn,

A/n: this is my first ACTUAL longass fic that isn't a text fic so like.. lmk how I did! no one requested this, this is purely me wanting a chenle arranged marriage fic bc i've read like five and i want more of them so like.. i'm making them. i'll be turning this into a series eventually! i just wanted to get this out of my drafts bc it's been sitting here for so long.

Being stuck in your family's business ventures has never been something you enjoyed, but something you merely endured. Growing up wealthy wasn't the worst, but dealing with your family from a business standpoint and never from a familial standpoint always got the best of you. It felt as though you were just another business ploy. Being the eldest meant you were always in the spotlight as well, while your younger siblings got the chance to be normal people. Something you never got to do. Will that ever get to change?

"What's this meeting for today? It wasn't even on my schedule until this morning," you ask, looking towards your cousin and CFO, Huang Renjun.

"I'm not too sure. I just know your parents planned it, there's no description of what it's about. It's not even listed as an emergency or anything," Renjun sighs, looking down at the calendar on his work phone.

"Maybe it's about your placement to become CEO of the company? I mean- your parents are getting a little old.." Renjun questioned.

"I feel like they would've mentioned that to one of us- and they're not that old Renjun." you chuckled, still feeling confused about the random meeting you were about to go into.

The two of you walked up to the company elevators before getting inside. Renjun pressed the right floor number to head up to the meeting rooms. As you both waited for the elevator to move you felt a pang of anxiety in your chest about the meeting.

"Do you think they'd fire me? What if I've done something wrong?" You ask, feeling a bit panicked.

"Y/n. What? Why would your parents fire the COO of their company who also happens to be their daughter?" Renjun looked to you, baffled by your question.

"I mean honestly, you run this company better than your parents anyways. They don't have a reason to fire you, so stop your panicking before it even starts, we don't have time for that." Renjun states.

"Right. You're right, Junnie. I don't know why I was worried." You say, realizing the thought was dense to begin with.

The elevator lightly pinged before opening up the doors and leading you two out into the hallway. You and Renjun made your way to the last conference room on the left and walked inside. As you sauntered into the meeting, you were met with the familiar faces of your parents, and three people you didn't entirely recognize. An older woman and a man, and another man, who looked to be your age. Your father quickly stood up, introducing you to the others in the room.

"Ah, finally! This is my daughter, Huang Y/n, my wonderful COO, and her secretary- and CFO, Huang Renjun, my nephew." Your father announced.

The rest of the room stood and held their hands out to you for them to shake. You shook the woman's hand first, as she introduced herself to you. "I'm Mrs Zhong, and this is my husband, Mr Zhong. I'm sure you recognize our names."

You nodded, going to shake Mr Zhong's hand aswell. "You're the CEOS of Zhong Inc, correct?"

The woman smiled, "Yes we are. and this is my son, Chenle, he's our company's CFO, and soon to be heir for our CEO position once we retire."

You turned to Chenle, going to shake his hand and he shook yours in return, although he didn't speak to you. You had heard about the Zhongs business for a long time, their company rivaling yours for generations. You were bound to meet eventually. Your father motioned for everyone to be seated so the meeting could begin. Renjun sat down next to you as you both exchanged a confused look, still unaware of the meeting's topic. Your father glanced to you before speaking again.

"Y/n, I'm sure you're wondering why I've called this meeting today, especially with no warning." Your father spoke.

"I'm guessing we're here to discuss business, no?" I quipped jokingly, still unsure of what was going on.

"Well, obviously. But it's probably not the type of business you're expecting." Your father fiddled with the wedding ring on his finger as he glanced between you and to the Zhong's.

"We've been competitors with the Zhong's for generations, you know this. And we've finally come to an agreement to join companies." Your father paused.

"And sweetheart, we know you've been waiting to become CEO for the longest time, and you've worked hard for it." Your mother chimed in.

You felt your skin crawl anxiously as you feared the direction this conversation was taking. You looked between your parents.

"What are you two implying?" You ask, on edge.

"We've arranged for you- as our heir- and Chenle- as their heir- to be wedded. That's how we've decided to affiliate our companies." Your father declared.

You felt your heart drop in your chest as your father finished speaking.

An arranged marriage?

"No. Absolutely not. Get one of my sister's to do it, I can't just marry someone!" You exclaimed, exasperated.

"I'm afraid you don't get a choice in this, my dear. Keep in mind, my son doesn't have a choice in this either. This is all for business." Mrs. Zhong spoke up.

You glanced to Chenle, seeing how the tight-lipped expression on his face remained cold. No wonder he didn't speak to you when you shook his hand. You looked to Renjun, as he shared your shocked expression.

"Is there any other way for our companies to merge?" You pleaded.

"This is the best way for our companies to merge, and it's the easiest way to win over the public. Plus this is the only way we'll grant you the position of CEO, Y/n. This is what you wanted, sweetheart. You know everything comes at a price, even this position." Your father conceded.

"How could you just agree to this? Father-" You asserted, feeling betrayed.

"This is simply how we've decided this company merger will go. I'm sorry you don't agree with it, but you know this is how business is."

"I mean, this is bullshit, Renjun! How am I supposed to do anything if I'm married? I don't even know Chenle!" You shouted angrily, sipping on a glass of wine.

Renjun slouched on his couch as you paced around his kitchen angrily, steam practically flowing off of you. "I don't know, Y/n. There's obviously no way out of this either, your father already said that. Maybe Chenle won't be so bad. Plus at the end of the day you'll finally be CEO and I'll take over your position. With how much time you'll be spending at the company you would barely have to deal with Chenle, anyways."

"I know I'd be too busy to interact with Chenle except when it comes to business. But it's the concept of it all! Do my parents really just see me as an asset to get more money? I mean- they never treat any of my siblings this way." You sighed, feeling deflated.

"You and I both know the answer to that question, unfortunately." Renjun ran his hand through his hair as he glanced to you apologetically.

"This definitely won't be easy for you, but you won't be alone. I'm your family and your secretary, I'll always be here to support you." Renjun stood and walked to you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

"And we can plan a wedding! Wouldn't that be fun? We used to dream of doing that as children, remember?" Renjun quipped, trying to lighten the mood.

"I always hoped when we were planning a wedding it'd be when I'm marrying someone I love." You cried.

Renjun sighed as he pulled you into a hug as you started to cry more, the overwhelming day finally taking over you.

As the day of your wedding finally came you could feel yourself becoming colder towards the world, feeling as if your life was hardly yours. You had a few meetings previously with your parents trying to force you and Chenle to get to know each other before the wedding came. When it came to you and Chenle, it felt like the two of you had hit a stalemate. Neither of you wanting to know the other and only wanting to get it all over with.

Your father finally walked you up the aisle and led you to Chenle. Although the occasion wasn't ideal, Renjun really had planned the hell out of your wedding. It wasn't likely you'd be able to have a real wedding, but Renjun made sure the wedding was everything you wanted, even if you didn't get the love you wanted in the end. You and Chenle quickly exchanged your mock-up vows between the two of you. You both tried your best to look happy, as cameras and eyes were everywhere. Rings were exchanged between you as the officiant finished speaking.

"I pronounce you, husband and wife, Mr. and Mrs. Zhong. You may kiss the bride." The officiant smiled.

You and Chenle shared a chaste kiss, the only kiss the two of you would likely ever share. You felt disgusted, as did he, neither of you wanting to endure this wedding longer than you had to. You quickly separated, looking embarrassed, but played it off as feeling shy. The two of you making your way our of the wedding, walking down the aisle. You made eye contact with Renjun, as you both shared a sad, defeated look.

The rest of your reception went by in a blur, as you drowned it all out with multiple glasses of wine and soju, hardly speaking to Chenle the whole night, mainly conversing with your friends as Chenle did the same. As the night came to a close, you and Chenle got into your limousine, waving goodbye to your loved ones, as you traveled to your new shared home.

The ride was silent between the pair as the sequences of the night played over and over in their heads again. The realization finally dawned on the two of them. They were stuck together.

As the newlyweds finally put all of their belongings inside their new home the day had completely worn them out. You looked to Chenle, who looked too exhausted to keep up his cold demeanor.

"I'll sleep in the guest bedroom." You sighed, grabbing your things, ready to change out of your wedding attire.

Chenle nodded to you as you parted ways, settling into your new bedrooms. Once you got to your room you set down all of your items, quickly changing into your pajamas, feeling exhausted. As you lay down in your bed, you finally let yourself break. The tears immediately rushing down. You covered your mouth, trying to hide your cries as best as you could to avoid alerting Chenle.

All of this, just to become a CEO.

In the room next to yours, Chenle felt the same defeated emotions as you did. The both of you already feeling resentment towards each other, and your parents. It was the type resentment that grew like a disease.

#nct #nct dream #nct x reader #zhong chenle #zhong chenle x reader #chenle x reader #arranged marriage #fluff #angst with a happy ending #smut #slow burn #yearning #angst #nct angst #nct imagines #nct dream x reader #nct dream imagines #zhong chenle x you

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ahgasegotarmy116 · 2 months ago

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Still With You | A Jeon Jungkook Series | Chapter Eleven

Summary: Making up with Jungkook isn't something you want to do first thing in the morning but you've kept him waiting for far too long Pairing : Luna (reader) x Jungkook and Jimin, f2l love triangle Word Count: 3.7k~ Warnings: Explicit language (barely lol) a/n: I know I put a poll up and this was the last choice in the rankings but this was already finished so I figured I'd just post it 😅 Start from the beginning

Opening my eyes I'm greeted with the warmth of the sun on my skin, shining through the curtains where I've fallen asleep on the couch in my living room.

Reaching for my phone I check the time and see that I've woken up just five minutes before my alarm was supposed to go off. I'd prefer it this way honestly if it could save me from being jolted awake by that incessant ringing signaling the start of my day.

Taking a deep breath I look up at the ceiling and start coaching myself in how this morning should all go down. Confronting someone after a fight is never pleasant but in this situation it's necessary.

'I don't want to lose him', that has been the reason for my inaction and now it has to be my motivation to take action.

Jungkook can be hardheaded when he wants to be (sometimes even more than me), but I can't let the fear of not being able to reach him keep me from fighting for us.

I know I need to show him how much he means to me, I know I've fallen short and I know for sure it's my turn to step up and make things right.

Sitting up I'm hit with a sudden feeling of wooziness and realize that in all the upset I forgot to eat last night.

Well, I guess that's another motivation added to the list for getting me up and out of this apartment. I make my way to my bathroom to take a quick shower and get dressed to go before I can chicken out of this.

I'm reminded of some of the horrible things he said to me last night as I continue to wake up but the reason they cut so deep is because most of them are laced with truth.

I was stringing him along, I did spend time with Jimin, but I'm not dating him. I don't like the attention as much as he thinks I do, I only really care about him and it's been like that for years.

I guess since I haven't really entertained a guy for a while neither one of us knows how to act, especially since I know that he loves me now.

Or loved...

Arriving at his door I find myself hesitant to knock since the action itself seems foreign. Between the three of us including Grey we've kinda dropped that formality, or at least Grey and I have.

Jungkook still is a bit more respectful and texts before letting himself in. I hope we can go back to those days and that the damage that has been done can be repaired.

Making moves to knock I'm interrupted by the sight of Hoseok coming out of his place a few doors down.

"Oh Luna, hi! I haven't seen you in a while. How have you been?" he asks looking bright eyed and bushy tailed, a tell tail sign that he probably wasn't aware of Jungkook's drunken stupor from last night.

"Could be better" I say now reminded of Jungkook's same response just hours ago.

"Are you here to see Jungkook?" he asks, clearly seeing what my intensions are. "Yeah, do you know if he got home last night?" I question now concerned as to why he's asking.

"I heard from Jin that he crashed at his place after showing up drunk off his ass. He said he was mumbling something about you so I figured you might be showing up sometime soon" he relays, knowing that there's no real reason to hide the information from me.

"Oh okay, I guess I'll go ahead and talk to him another time" I say making moves to retreat. "I could take you there if you want? It's on my way anyways" he says and I'm just now noticing he looks like he was on his way out.

"Oh I don't want to impose" I start trying to decline his offer. "Don't worry about it, he's been out of sorts for the past week so I know that seeing you would probably help him out. I don't mean to sound nosy but we all kinda found out what happened".

I nod my head in understanding and ultimately accept his offer.

The journey to Jin's house isn't too long but with every passing second I feel like my airways are closing up, my throat going dry.

As I try to listen to Hoseok's rambling about some sort of new figurine that he collects I see the minutes on the gps get smaller and smaller as we get closer to our destination. Once it hits zero and he parks the car we sit there for a second.

"Do you want me to walk you up? I told Jin we were on our way so he's already expecting you" he says hoping to encourage me to take that leap to finally try to work things out.

"No it's okay, you've already helped me so much. Thank you Hoseok really, I know I hurt him but I really do want to make it right" I say with a sad smile.

"I know, friendships are hard and they're even harder when love gets added to the mix..." I widen my eyes and I see an amused look on his face. "Yes he told us that too, believe it or not he's been gushing about you to us for years, and it's Hobi, Hoseok is too formal" he chuckles.

"Thank you Hobi, hopefully next time I see you it'll be under happier circumstances" I say with a pained expression. "I'm sure it will, we all know what he's like but please, don't stop fighting for him" he says pinching his eyebrows together in a pained expression.

"I won't" is the last thing I say to him before walking up to the house.

"Hi Luna" Jin says after answering my soft knocks on his door, doing my best to keep quiet incase Jungkook is still sleeping. "Hey" I say and he brings me in for a hug. "He's not awake yet but you can wait in the living room and we can catch up for a bit if you're up for it" he says and offers me a cup of coffee while he walks over to the kitchen, to which I accept and take a seat on his wrap around couch.

"Here you go" he says and also brings milk and sugar so I can fix it to my liking. After doing so he retrieves the items and finally comes over to sit down on the opposite side of the couch making sure to keep a respectful distance, knowing what Jungkook's reaction might be if he found us any closer.

"How have you been? Hanging in there?" he starts taking the pressure off of me of initiating the conversation. "As best as I can be I guess. Did he tell you what happened last night?" I ask hoping to see where his head was at after our argument.

"Well he was way too far gone when he got here so not a whole lot of it made sense other than telling me you guys had a fight and that you were cheating on him" he says recalling the sight.

"How could I be cheating on him if we're not even dating?" I groan throwing my head back against the couch.

"You know him, he's always been very protective of you, and I guess that with his confession he couldn't help but let out some of that possessive energy along with it" he explains plainly.

"Yeah I can tell. I got used to him being protective but everything has gotten out of control since then. You saw what happened that day on the boardwalk. How else was I supposed to react?" I ask, hoping for some sort of validation for my actions.

"Maybe you shouldn't have shut me out" I freeze hearing Jungkook's deep morning voice that is drenched in hostility, still clearly upset with me.

"Jungkook that's not fair" Jin says trying to come to my rescue. "It's okay Jin just let me talk to him" I talk him down, hoping that he'll give us some space to talk. "I'll be in the other room if you need me" he says and gets up to go, granting us a sense of privacy.

"What are you doing here?" Jungkook grumbles as he makes his way over to the kitchen and I decide to follow him there.

"I came to see you" I say stating the obvious. "How did you find me?" he continues only asking surface level questions as he gets the coffee pot and pours himself a cup. "I passed by your place first and I bumped into Hobi so he told me where you were and gave me a ride here" I explain.

"Don't call him that, only his friends get to call him that" he says clearly not happy that I've had contact with his hyungs without his prior knowledge.

"He asked me to call him that..." I say trailing off deciding it's best not to push it. "Well I don't want you to. They're my friends, not yours" he says sternly still giving me the cold shoulder. "Noted" is all I say and do my best to give him a peace offering instead.

"I brought over some hangover soup, I thought you might like some" I say nodding towards the bag on the counter.

Having his back to me, now looking for something that I could only guess would be some painkillers from the sight of the different medicine bottles in the cabinet, he only grunts in acknowledgement not really making an effort to show any sort of gratitude.

"Shit" he mumbles. "I brought you some painkillers too if that's what you're looking for" I say hoping to get him to see that I really am here to help and not hurt. He lets out a deep sigh and looks over at the water bottle and the pain meds in question that I had placed on the counter and decides it's best to give in.

"Thanks" he mumbles and takes the pills immediately. "You should probably eat something though so let me just heat up the soup for you too. I don't want you to end up with a stomachache on top of it all" I say gathering the takeout containers and assembling the meal before he can refuse.

After the food is ready I sit at the table and keep him company as he eats.

"Aren't you gonna have some?" he questions, curious as to why I haven't served myself as well. "No that's okay, I ate something before I came here" I say making sure that he'll eat his fill and still have some left over for later.

He shrugs his shoulders and continues to eat until I see that he looks like he's feeling a bit more alive again. He sits back and takes another drink of water before finally speaking.

"So I'm guessing you're here to talk?" he says getting up to clear out the dishes, to which I jump up and help right away. "Yeah" I trail off hoping to have a more stable setting unlike last night.

He nods his head and we both make our way over to the couch and end up sitting at the same distance that Jin and I had just been at before.

"So talk" he says and waits for me to explain myself. "Do you remember what happened last night?" I start off.

"Bits and pieces. I do remember that you've been seeing another guy though, I wasn't drunk enough to forget that" he answers saying the last part under his breath.

"I just want to clear that up real quick first so we can establish the reasons why I did what I did" he nods in acknowledgement and lets me continue.

"His name is Jimin first off, and I met him a few days before the night you told me you love me, or loved me based off of what you said last night" he opens his mouth to interrupt but I hold my hand up telling him to wait until I've said my piece.

"He came into the store one day and flirted with me and we hit it off. He asked me to go to a cafe with him, which I did and he tried to kiss me at the end of it. I stopped him and told him I wanted to get to know him better and that we should take things slow, to which he agreed so we just kept things chill from there but he made his intensions known right away" I say and watch as his expressions change, seeing he wants to get a word in but he respects my wishes.

"In case you're wondering we haven't gone out on a proper date and we haven't kissed. On the night you and I had that fight on the boardwalk Jin brought me home and when I walked up to my doorstep there was a red envelope addressed to me" I continue and I can tell his interest is peaked.

"I picked it up and brought it inside and when I opened it I saw pictures of me with you and Grey. Some were from work, others were from us or just me inside my apartment and some were of us in random places where we were just spending time together. It even had pictures of when we went stargazing and from the day we went to the boardwalk"

I reach into my bag to take out the picture of us kissing with the first note that said 'I'm Watching You' with Jungkook's face crossed out.

"All of the pictures had your face crossed out like this and I got scared so I grabbed my phone to try to call you but I somehow ended up calling Jimin on accident" I say and I see the way his hands grip the picture I had given him a little tighter.

"I started spiraling and by the time he picked up the phone he could already tell that something was wrong. I couldn't bring myself to hang up and call you because of what had happened between us so when he offered to come over I said yes" Jungkook tongues his cheek, a muscle in his jaw feathering.

"When he got there he helped calm me down and it felt so wrong to have someone else do what you've done for me time and time again but I knew it would've been selfish of me to ask you to come over after I had just asked for space".

I clear my throat before I keep going and I notice now that he's got his eyes trained on me, not missing a single word, needing to know what happened.

"He spent the night, initially sleeping on the couch until I woke up from a nightmare later on that night so I asked him to sleep in the bed with me but that was it. Nothing happened" I explain and although he's still clearly tense I can tell he's happy that nothing happened.

"I'm telling you in explicit detail because I want to be honest with you. I don't want there to be anymore misunderstandings between us. After that night I felt like we had gotten a bit closer so he asked me if I wanted to spend some more time together but I told him no because I wanted to figure out where things between you and I stand and he understood that but again told me that he still wanted to date me if I gave him the chance" if looks could kill...

"He ended up stopping by the store sometimes to just say hi and we would text occasionally but that's what the state of my relationship with him is at at the moment"

I think for a second trying to formulate my words carefully, the next part is one that could make or break our relationship.

"I did ask for space that day for a few different reasons" I start off and I can see him squirm a bit in his seat.

"One being that both you and Jimin confessed your feelings to me on the same night so my emotions were all over the place which is probably why I reacted the way that I did, so I apologize if I scared you" I explain and he nods, waiting for the other reasons on the list.

"Two was that I felt like a switch flip between us even before you confessed to me. I could sense the tension building so I didn't know how to act. Third was from the way that things went down the day we fought. I do admit that I had fault in it too so I don't want you to feel like I'm blaming it all on you because I'm not" I back track a bit and he nods again.

"I had been teasing you from the start because I liked the way you would react to it. I liked the way you were getting jealous and possessive over me. It made me feel wanted and I hadn't really experienced something like that before" I confess, owning up to my fault.

"I let things get out of hand when I kept on provoking you so I'm sorry. I didn't realize that something like that would make you so upset so it's my fault that that fight happened in the first place" I finish and take a deep breath, waiting for him to say something, finally giving him the chance to do so.

"That's a lot" he he breathes out, still trying to process it all. "I probably said some mean stuff to you last night didn't I?" he questions. I nod my head and he rubs his temples and thinks for a while before he finally starts to respond to everything.

"That fight wasn't all your fault Luna, I played a part in it too. If anything I escalated it because of how blinded by jealousy I was. Having my feelings out in the open made me feel vulnerable and the guys knew that but they messed around with you anyways" he sighs and I nod, realizing that we were teaming up and trying to provoke him.

"It wasn't a good decision on my part to bring you and I should've known that so I'm sorry too. I'm sorry for the way I treated you then and I'm sorry for what happened last night. Even though I don't remember everything I do know that what I did was fucked up and I should've just turned around and left when I saw you. I wasn't ready to talk and I knew that but I missed you so much I couldn't pass up the chance to see you again" he says looking at me with true regret in his eyes.

"I missed you too" I say quietly so I don't interrupt him too much.

"That stalker...well until we get to the bottom of that you're not leaving my side" he growls, leaving me protesting but now he's the one that's putting his hand up to stop me. "We'll work that out later but after all of this where do we stand?" he asks, slightly grimacing at the end.

"I don't know why I would ever say that I don't love you because I do. I love you so fucking much it hurts Luna" he lets out a shaky breath. "No matter what I've said in the past or what I'll say in the future I will always love you" he finishes showing so much regret.

"I don't know...but maybe we could start off by being best friends again?" I suggest hoping that he'll be satisfied with that for now. "I'm not saying that I don't want to try and make us work, but for right now I think our feelings are too raw so we should probably take some time to heal what's been hurt" I explain, hoping I've gotten my point across.

"I think I'd like that...but let's try to heal together this time okay? Don't push me away again. I don't care how mad you are, just stay with me" he pleads, reaching out for my hand.

"Always" I reply, squeezing his hand.

"You've said that before" he gives me a stern look.

"Okay but I really do mean it this time" I hold my hands up laughing at his attempt to be mad at me again.

"You better" he chuckles before ruffling my hair.

"I guess I deserved that" I say while blowing the hair out of my face. "Oh you definitely deserve more than that" he says standing up and stalking towards me.

"What do you mean by that?" I say standing up and backing away from him.

"Why don't you come over here and find out" he chuckles with a devious smile, lunging towards me which I narrowly evade and run away from him.

"Jin! Jin, help! He's trying to kill me!" I yell laughing at how silly Jungkook looks while running after me.

"YA! I leave you two alone for 10 minutes and you're already disrespecting my home?" he scolds.

I make a bee line for him but Jungkook cuts me off and pulls me in by my waist, my back up against his chest.

"Jin please save me. Please don't leave me with him" I beg while he backs up into his room seeing the playful manner that has been revived between us.

"Just don't break anything Jungkook" he chuckles and sends us an amused smile before he closes the door

"No" I whimper out before Jungkook whispers in my ear.

"Seems like we've gotta make up for lost time" he purrs before pinching my sides, making me squirm in his embrace.

"Jungkook stop please you know I hate this!" I whine before he picks me up and throws me over his shoulder. "Aw pretty, we haven't even started" he smirks and starts tickling me mercilessly.

"JIN! HELP!" I yell out through gasps desperate for a savior, my prayers forever going unanswered.

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rogueddie · 1 year ago

Text

Steve Harrington is six years old when he first speaks to Eddie Munson.

Steve vaguely recognized him from school, sure that he was in the year above Steve, but he thought that Eddie hadn't looked as lonely in school as he had in the public library that day.

So, determined to make a friend, he decided to go over and talk to him.

He only hesitated because Eddie looked immersed in his book- that is, until some other kids went over and bothered him. They don't do much, only seem to jeer and knock his book down as they passed by, but Eddie looked upset.

Steve got up as soon as the boys left through the doors. Eddie was clearly just trying to enjoy his book- and a big book too, Steve had thought that it must be interesting for him to be so far into it.

"Hi," Steve greets. He gave a little wave and his cutest smile- even his mom thought it was cute and she was so busy in those days that she never noticed those smaller things. "What are you- you, um, reading?"

He stared at Steve blankly for a moment, seeming confused. "Lord of the rings. Why?"

"Thought it must be… interesting. It looks so long and you've, just… you've read so much!"

"Oh. Yeah, it's pretty fun. You read a lot of fantasy?"

Steve shifted, glancing away for a moment. Uncomfortable. "I don't really… read a lot. The words get a little, uh, confusing."

"The Hobbit is a little shorter? And it's part of the same world as Lord of The Rings. There's three of these ones."

"What are they about?"

Eddie lit up. He kept the explination short, not wanting to ruin the book. He paused a lot, tongue sticking out as he tried hard to think, constantly noting that 'it will make more sense when you read it' or 'but then a thing happens, but I can't tell you because it will spoil it'.

"And the- the trees talking is, like, normal in this world?"

"Yeah! It's all great!"

Steve didn't quite understand, but he loved how Eddie made it sound.

"You still think you'll read it?"

"Maybe when I'm a- a bit older. I don't think I'll really, uh, get it? It sounds real neat though."

"Do you think it might help if I read it out to you?" Eddie's smile dropped a little when Steve hesitated. He leant close, lowering his voice. "I had to have my uncle read it out the first time."

"Really?"

"Yeah. A lot of words I don't know and because he was reading them out, I could just ask him if I didn't get it. Plus, I kinda still like being read to. It's like having a personal narrator."

"Oh. And... that's ok?

"Yeah. Why wouldn't it be? Uncle Wayne says it is so it must be."

"Is your uncle really smart?"

"Super smart. He knows a lot."

"Ok."

"Ok?" Eddie perked up. "You want me to read to you? Because I've been practicing doing voices and it is really fun."

Eddie flipped the book back to the start.

"I'll only read a little. Don't wanna give anything away."

Steve was fascinated. Despite how much some of the voices wavered, Steve adored them. He had to bite the inside of his cheeks at times to keep from making noise, or commenting. He hadn't wanted to interrupt Eddies flow.

It took him a while to realize that he'd stopped checking the time and, by the time he did, it was almost too late.

"Oh, damn," Steve jumped up, wincing at how it made Eddie flinch. "Sorry! I have to go, my dad- I'm sorry."

"No worries," Eddie shrugged. "Will you be here next week?"

"Yeah, should be."

"I'll wait for you here, same time."

"Gocha!"

Steve scurried out, running out the door. He ignored the yelling for him to slow down, panting by the time he jumped into the back of his dads car.

"Sorry I'm late."

His dad hummed, raising an eyebrow at him in the rear view mirror. "Good day? Make any new friends?"

"Yeah! I met Eddie and he's really nice and cool. He read me some of this big book and he wants to meet me again, next week!"

Steve hadn't noticed the way his dad winced when he went on to describe Eddie. He was too busy thinking about the next week and how excited he was to spend another afternoon with his new friend.

But, the next week, his dad dropped him off with a babysitting. He made sure to tell her that Steve was to be kept away from the public library.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #ficlet #altorprecanon

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honeyhonest · 3 months ago

Note

the most i can think of now regarding requests, cuz of the one ask, is fellow putting on a fancy outfit and shit getting steamy with him cuz he notices the reader growing flustered and decided to fuck with em lmao

this was sent LAST YEAR and now I'm writing it just bc I don't want to do anymore requests on pomdove I'm so tired

it's a good prompt also

minors do not interact, 18+ only

✧˖°. a few minutes late

warnings: afab!reader (you/yours pronouns), ramshackle au, reader is adult yuu, kissing, fingering, fellow is mean and rough, "doll" and "honey" used, some teasing about virginity but more about the concept? it's not serious and doesn't imply anyone's a virgin idk, excessive swearing, edging for reader, no orgasm for anyone!!! not TOO long, not proofread I'M LAZY!!!

"Is he almost done in there?"

Grim tugs at your pant leg for the umpteenth time. You can't even scold him for complaining; you're forty minutes late.

"I don't know," you say, and, catching movement out of the corner of your eye, you scoop up the direbeast. "Are you really that excited for the party?"

"All the good food'll be gone by the time we get there!"

Of course. You smile and scratch behind his ears. The movement in the hall becomes a shadow, which becomes a boy. "Is he still in there?"

You shrug, and Rollo clenches his jaw. "I've made a poor enough impression as it is, it wouldn't being do myself- or you- any favors, to be tardy,"

You glance between the tightly-shut bedroom door and the direbeast in your arms.

"...Right, here," you say, setting the latter into Rollo's waiting hands. "I'll walk Fellow out when he's done. The rest of you go on without us, tell them we'll be there soon."

Rollo doesn't argue. He sets Grim on his own two feet, straightens the little beast's bowtie, and then walks him to the door, Gidel not far behind (you can tell from the thump, thump, thump of his rubber mallet being dragged across the uneven, splintered wood).

The door slams. Rollo is unhappy.

"You almost done in there?" you ask, knocking on the oak. Some shuffling, swearing, and sighing comes from within.

"Yeah, yeah. No one likes a nag, y'know,"

"Not nagging. We're almost an hour late to the party,"

"Wasn't talking about you," he mutters, and then: "They're all gone?"

You look over your shoulder, to the stairs, as if to make certain that the door is shut.

"...They're gone,"

"Finally," and the bedroom door swings open. "Whaddya think? Too much?"

Your eyes widen at the sight. You'd always known that Fellow could clean up nicely when he wanted to, and you'd already seen him in that gaudy Playful Land garb, but this was...

...Well, he looked nice.

That's all.

"It's a nice suit. Where'd you get it?"

He sniffs and wipes his nose on the sleeve. "It's the little do-gooder's. We're the same height,"

Rollo's. He's not going to be happy about that.

Fellow catches that look and leers over you, ruffling your hair. "Don't gimme that face, doll. It's not like he was using it,"

"Yeah, but-"

"But, nothing," he says, straightening his tie. "I didn't own another suit, and he'd have been madder if I'd shown up in my casuals. I'll tell 'ya, never seen a teenage boy more worried with manners... it'd do him some good to meet a girl, get his dick wet or 'somethin."

You sigh, and as he fusses with his cufflinks, your eyes fall to the crotch of his pants. Rollo is a rather thin character, and the suit was obviously tailored to his proportions. Not Fellow's. And it showed. There was a noticeable strain around...

"See something you like?"

You just about jump, but Fellow cackles and settles his hands on your shoulders, keeping you on your feet.

"You're a little scatterbrained, aren't ya?" he teases. "At least you've got your looks. I could just eat you up... bet you'd like that, eh?"

You glare (what else could you do?) and he snickers, squeezing your shoulders.

"That little schoolboy's been getting to your head. You used to laugh at my jokes,"

"He was here before you,"

"Please," Fellow scoffs. His hands stay where they are. "He didn't give a damn about you until I came along. All of a sudden he's attached to your side."

You give him a look. "He doesn't trust you,"

Fellow rolls his eyes, as if that were a ridiculous thing, to not trust him. His hands stay settled on your shoulders, though they also start pushing you towards the wall.

"Sure he doesn't. He's scared I'm gonna take your innocence. Oh, your poor, poor purity! Whoever will defend your tight little hole without him around!" he mocks, placing a hand over his chest. "Tch. You're not so innocent. He's wasting his time."

You raise an eyebrow. Fellow grins, giving you a good look at his fangs.

"I've seen the way you look at me," he cups your chin in his palm. "Like now."

Your lips part, and he takes that as some sort of permission, gently pulling your face towards his and giving you a meek kiss on the mouth.

It's nothing, but that's just the point, isn't it?

"...And now I've soiled you," he smirks. You don't want him to withdraw, but he does. "Ruined you for anyone else... you're essentially a whore now. By proximity to a debauched, perverted man, like me!"

Your eyes widen, and he laughs again, tapping the tip of your nose.

"Oh, relax. I'm teasing. I wouldn't lay a hand on 'ya, honest," And then he leers over you, lowering his voice. "Unless you wanted me to."

No words come from your parted lips, and none from his, at least not before he kisses you again- and seriously, this time. His hand holds the back of your head, forcing you closer to him and his teeth, as if he were really trying to eat you.

Fellow's fangs scrape your lip, not painfully, but warningly, as if reminding you that you've been backed into this corner by a predator. His tongue follows, forcing into your mouth, pushing against yours until you're choking, and then he finally relents.

"Not bad," he pants, his breath against your bitten lips. "I would've gotten dressed hours ago if I'd known there'd be a reward for it."

He punctuates that by pressing you harder against the wall, nearly knocking the wind out of you.

"I don't know if-"

"They can wait a few minutes," he mutters, his fingers finding your waist and furrowing into the softness of your side. "Can't they?"

You nod, almost without thinking, and both of Fellow's hands slide to the small of your back, arching you closer to him until your stomach is touching his, and then he lets you fall against the wall again.

"I didn't want to go to that party anyway," he murmurs, holding your hip with one hand and sliding the other into your pants. "Fucking assholes, all of them. Your friends are fucking assholes, doll."

His hand squeezes your hip, coaxing your legs apart for him. He makes a point of pressing over your underwear, a little harder than he should have, just to hear you yelp when the pads of his fingers find that sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Pretentious, pompous, self-serving little pricks," he mutters, pressing circles into your clit. "They think they're so much better than me, but look at me now. Books won't teach 'em how to touch someone like this. Lift your leg, honey."

He hooks your thigh over his hip, angling you to slip his fingers under the waistband of your underwear and feel through your folds.

"Wet enough," he decides, and with no deliberation, he pushes a finger in. The movement makes a squelching sound, much to his delight. He feels around for a moment, as if figuring how much you'll be able to take, and then he pumps his finger, letting you stutter and stumble over whimpers to get a few words out.

"What's that? I can't understand you when you mumble. You should really speak up, it's bad manners," Fellow chides, pushing in another finger before you even have the chance. He slowly pumps, deeper and deeper until his palm is pressed flat against your clit. He braces himself against his arm on the wall beside you, his breath warm against your ear.

"If we had the time, I would fuck you stupid," he murmurs. "This damn house is never empty enough."

And then he withdraws his fingers from your cunt, glistening with slick in the candlelight. He admires the way they gleam, the fruits of his efforts (if you could even call it that), and he sucks them clean.

"...Well, that's enough of that. We're late, and I don't feel like being burnt to a crisp by the altar boy and your other bratty friends,"

Fellow wipes his fingers on the front of his (Rollo's) jacket and leans you onto his side, supporting your weight all the way to the door.

#twst smut #twisted wonderland smut

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fangirlfrom-hell · 2 years ago

Text

How Many Detectives Are Needed To Sleep A Baby? || Jay Halstead x reader!

Cute and fluffy Jay, wife and baby + babysitter detectives

*re-posting this because I'm stupid and accidentaly delated my blog 🫠

Summary: Intelligence unit takes care of Jay's newborn baby while he and his wife are in court. Turns out it is the most difficult case they have worked on.

-"You can't go in there". Platt muttered in a scolding tone to Adam, who wanted to go into the coffee room.

-"Why not?" He asked strangely.

-"Shhhhhh". Kim gave him a punch on his arm. -"Keep it quiet, you're gonna wake her up".

-"Ok, alright". Ruzek kept his voice low. -"What the hell is going on, girls?"

-"Halstead's baby is sleeping in there. Don't you dare to interrupt her sweet dreams, bro". Kevin said from his desk.

-"Look at her. You can see her smile even from here". Hailey said, peeking through the window.

Trudy and Kim followed her.

-"She's so lucky she didn't get her father's mad face". The Sergeant enquired.

-"What do you think she's dreaming about? She looks so peaceful".

-"What's going on? Where's Jay? Where's her mom? What is she doing here all alone?" Adam was losing it, increasing his voice volume once more.

-"She's not alone. We're taking care of her!". Hailey frowned.

-"Adam, please". Voigh silently got out of his office and rushed towards him whispering. -"Would you keep it down? I can hear your voice even with my door closed. Let the baby rest, she's only weeks old and already has seen too much".

The detective opened his arms in a defeated gesture. He had just arrived and didn't understand anything.

-"Y/N is testifying right now, we couldn't avoid it. She and her colleagues published the investigation under their names, so...I couldn't stop it. Jay is by her side. The baby is here for protection".

-"She really is a hell of a journalist". Upton mentioned with admiration.

-"And a very brave woman. We owe her a lot in this case". Hank stated.

-"You know? You would have known about this if you had arrived in time to work". Burgess teases Adam.

-"Is there any news about the trial?" Platt wanted to know, worried about you.

-"Not yet, but Jay said he'll be in touch". The boss stated. -"You know these trials take time".

They weren't conscious about it, but the whole Intelligence squad looked hilarious talking with whispers and walking in tiptoes as they went back to their workplaces.

Time passed and the girl was still sleeping safe and sound, until Adam decided to stand up to stretch a bit and stumbled with some cables on the floor. Naturally, the clatter woke up the little baby.

-"It had to be you, right?" Kim mocked her husband as she helped him stand up.

Hailey and Kevin ran to the coffee room as if they were running a race. It was him who got there first and held the baby girl.

-"There, there. Uncle Kev is right here". He tried to reassure her. -"I had siblings and took care of them when they were babies. I can manage another one".

But after a few minutes, she was still uncontrollable.

-"Ok, it's my turn". Burgess got into the game and took the baby off his partner's arms. -"I'm the only mom here, the only one who has a real daughter. I know how to do it".

-"What are you talking about?" Trudy Platt laughed. -"Makayla was already a grown up when you adopted her!" And she grabbed the baby to accommodate her in her chest. But the crying did not stop.

-"Oh, no. What are they doing to you, sweetie?" Upton grabbed her and laid her in her arms. -"I am her godmother, she knows me better".

The baby Halstead slowed down her crying, but she was still restless.

-"Well, how many detectives do you need to sleep a baby, hum? You don't know anything". Hank Voight gasped. -"Give her to me, I'll show you all". But as soon as she was in the arms of the boss, her crying increased. -"Oh. I've lost touch!"

Jay and Y/N were already at the bullpen, waiting in the stairs. They got in time to witness the fluffy scene.

-"Hey, guys? She's not a rag doll, you know?" Jay said laughing at the scene and his friends turned around with surprise. -"She just needs her daddy's arms''. He took his daughter to stroke her and almost immediately she calmed down.

-"That's not fair". Platt crossed her arms.

-"We brought you coffee". You smiled, leaving the box you were carrying on one of the desks. -"There's not enough caffeine when you take care of a newborn. There's one for each of you, just as each of you like it. Look for your name in the tags".

-"Geez, thanks!" Adam said gladly and balanced the table. -"I was denied entrance to the coffee room the whole morning".

-"I'm sorry". You turned red.

-"Don't listen to him". A chorus of detectives said.

-"She's really calm, it was no problem". Kevin asserted and everyone else agreed.

You approached your husband and as soon as you were in your daughter's sight, the baby started to smile and giggle, throwing little kicks into the air.

-"What? Why are you laughing so much, baby?" You raised your hands and freed Jay's arms. -"Come with mommy, sweetie".

Everyone stared at the scene with tenderness, especially Kim, whose eyes started watering.

-"You wanna hold her?"

She just nodded and took the opportunity.

-"How was the trial? Are you alright?" Platt inquiered.

-"Yeah, I mean it was really scary, but I think it went fine". Y/N hands started to shake a little bit, but she was fast enough to hide them in her pockets. Nobody noticed, except for Jay.

-"She did a great job". He hugged you by the waist, trying to secretly ease you.

-"I have no doubt about it, she already showed us how much of a badass she is". Hank smirked.

-"I will just be more comfortable if you stay in here at least until the Jury deliberates, or as soon as I can go home with you. It's just a precaution, I'm not being paranoid or something".

-"Yes, I agree". Voight followed the idea.

-"Sure. Whatever you think is better".

The baby yawned and stretched herself so adorably, that she caught everyone's attention again.

-"I should put her down to sleep".

-"Alright. Take my seat, Y/N. We don't know how much we're staying here". Jay pointed out.

-"C'me on, Kim. Give the baby back to her mommy".

-"If you need help with the baby or you get bored of these people around, I'll be downstairs". The desk Sergeant winked at you and you smiled back at her back.

-"She won't be bored. She has me here". Hailey pulled a face.

-"I'll take provisions just in case the little one takes the coffee room again". Ruzek rushed to the kitchen.

Everyone else rolled their eyes in a funny way.

#chicago pd #chicago pd imagine #Jay Halstead #Jay Halstead x reader #Jay halstead x Y/N #Jay Halstead imagine #Jay Halstead one shot #Jay Halstead x you #Trudy Platt #Hank Voight #Adam Ruzek #Kim Burgess #kevin atwater #One chicago #One chicago one shot #Jay Halsted x daughter #Jailey Upton

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cntloup · 1 year ago

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medieval au you finally find out what your husband does

"does it bother you?" you ask as you lay in your husband's arms, "what?" he asks, peering down at you, confusion written on his face.

"that i was... a prostitute." you respond, lifting your head from his chest and gazing into his gorgeous brown eyes as realization settles in them.

"no." he replies with a slight shake of his head, "no?!" you question in a surprised tone.

"no." he repeats, "what bothers me is the fact that you had to do it, the circumstances that forced you into it."

"and i assure you..." he continues, "that you never have to do that again. in fact, you will never have to even lift a finger as long as i'm here."

"simon..." you call out breathily, a dreamy smile painting your face and he pulls you in for a sweet kiss.

as soon as your lips meet, the sound of footsteps and metal clanging in the distance reach your ears.

he's on high alert and instinctively shields you from any possible danger, his large body covering yours as he faces the door, ready to jump at whoever dares to attack him and his wife.

"stay here." he whispers to you and reaches to take his sword beside the bed, "simon? what's happening?" you ask, frightened and confused.

he turns to you as he reaches the bedroom door, "don't make any sound. whatever happens, whatever you hear, you stay here and keep quiet."

"wha-" you start and he shushes you, "under the pillow." he says, gesturing for you to look.

your hand reaches under his pillow and you take the dagger hidden there, "use it if necessary." he says and leaves the room.

you squeeze your eyes shut as your hands tightly hold onto the dagger, crying silently in utter fear.

the sound of shouting and swords clanging against one another and bodies falling and hitting the floor fill the house.

and you pray, although not religious, you pray to whomever there is above listening, that no harm comes to him.

after what feels like an eternity of terror, he enters the room, "we have to go." he informs you while clutching his abdomen as he bleeds into his shirt and hand.

"oh my god, simon!" you rush to his side and remove his hand to take a look at the wound.

he winces as you remove the part of his shirt that was stuck to the wound, "sorry." you apologize.

your eyebrows furrow and you wince in pain, as if you can feel it as you glare at the deep wound.

"you know how to sew?" he asks, "i've got it." you utter and leave to bring your sewing kit, trying so hard to keep your composure and not scream in his face asking what the fuck just happened. he's hurt and he's your priority right now.

you guide him to sit on the bed and sew him up with your delicate hands, shedding silent tears as you think about how you nearly lost him, and the amount of blood frightens you, "don't worry, love. it's nothing. i've had worse." he says, wiping away the tears running down your cheeks and you scoff at his attempt to lighten the mood.

you finish patching him up and place a clean cloth over the wound.

"we have to go now. there has to be more coming." he says and you help him to get up as you witness him struggling.

"go where? who even were they?" you ask in frustration, you still have no idea what it is all about, "i'll tell you on the way. now pack up your stuff." he replies monotonously, only adding to your frustration, but you stay cool and obey.

he informs the lads of the attack and you all gather in a large ship... which is your husband's apparently. there's a whole lot you don't know about him.

"you're a bloody pirate?!" you shout with widened eyes, surprised and angry and all the emotions in between.

"...yes." he mutters, "and there's a prize on my head."

"what?! simon, what the hell?! when were you gonna tell me??!" you start shouting in his face and slapping his chest, unleashing all the anger and frustration you felt.

"i wasn't planning on it." he responds, his nonchalance only fueling the fire of your rage towards him as you huff and puff, glaring daggers at him and pacing the length of the ship.

"i know it's a lot to take in-" he starts, only for you to cut him off, "damn right it is." you snarl, but immediately take a deep breath to cool yourself down, "but it's not your fault."

"i'm sorry, simon. i know i overreacted." you apologize as you walk up to him and embrace him while keeping wary of his injury.

"not at all, love. you have every right to." he says, wrapping his big burly arms around you and taking you in his loving embrace.

"you need to rest." you murmur, looking up at him, "only if you stay with me." he whispers, slowly leaning in, "always." you say and capture his lips with yours, both smiling widely into the kiss.

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #cod x reader #ghost x reader #cod fanfic #ghost cod #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod #mw2 #cod modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty x reader

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otherone12 · 8 months ago

Text

Let's Be Alone Together

(FOB reference, 'cause couldn't think of anythig else)

Frank Iero x Reader

-> Masterlist

A/N: Hey!! I took really long to finisn this one, 'cause i needed to do the most complex a could… i was going to write it ‘bout Gerard, but I always write about him (yep, i'm kinda obsessed). Wel, I changed to Frank ‘cause I thought it would be nice. I know you don't read the fics I write about other members (who aren't Gerard) that much, but still... Hope u like it <3

(If u have some suggestion, idea, or request, just drop it! )

Summary: Your dad is one of the members of MCR staff, so you went to the reunion tour with them. You alwas has a crush on Frank, but you didn't expected that he would fall for you.

- Word Count: 4.850

- Warnings: Big age gap (legal but big), afab SMUT (a little scene, not big deal).

- Ps: I'll not use y/n…

- Ps2: I'm brazilian, so english is not my first language ... sorry if i wrote something wrong.

___________________________________________

1s Person POV

I've always been a big fan of My Chemical Romance, but unfortunately my father never took me to see them live, so this Reunion Tour will be my first time not only seeing them, but meeting the members of my favorite band.

Obviously, the moment my dad phoned me to ask if I'd like to accompany him, I was extremely excited and could hardly hold back, but I also couldn't help being nervous, considering my absurd crush on Frank.

What if I said something wrong? Something embarrassing? What if I fainted in front of him? What if I blushed too much, making it obvious that he had always been a weak point during my teenage years?

Putting my anxious thoughts aside, I went to pack my bags, as I don't like to leave things to the last minute, especially when it comes to something so important.

*** time skip ***

Finally, the day I'd been waiting for arrived. My father came to my apartment to pick me up and we went to the place where we boarded the production bus.

- Are you ready? - He asked me, while I put my things in the trunk.

- Fucking ready! - I said, and my dad chuckled, knowing that it was a MCR reference.

We got in the car and he drove us for the not too long way through the bus.

- Well, there are some things you have to know before we arrive.

- I’m all ears.

- First of all, they’re really nice, but don’t be annoying, ‘cause they’re working.

At no point did he take his eyes off the road, but I'm sure he knew exactly what my facial expression was, and he let out a chuckle.

- I’m not annoying at all! - I protested, more in a joking tone than in protest in fact.

- I know, but fans can be a bit, so I have to warn you. - a chuckle escaped from his mouth - Another thing is that I want you to help me tidy up the equipment.

- Sure! But you’ll have to teach me how to do it. - I warned.

- Don't worry, I will!

It wasn't long before we arrived at the tour bus location. Anxiety took over me, after all I was about to meet the guys who saved my life, as well as the guy who was my teenage crush. I spent so much time waiting to meet them that it doesn't even seem real.

Soon, the four of them got off their bus, which was next to the one we were loading.

- Hey, guys! I want you to meet my kid. - my dad said, pushing me forward.

I couldn't help but let out an awkward smile. Of course I was embarrassed of my dad doing this kind of thing, but I was definitely more excited.

- Hi! - Mikey said, shaking my hand with a smile - I heard you’re a huge fan of My Chem.

- Yeah! You guys are my favorite band ever.

- Nice to finally meet you! - Gerard says, with a cute smile on his face and approaching to give me a hug .- Your dad talks a lot about you.

I panicked. Did dad mention Frank? I've never been discreet about my feelings for him. But I think he couldn't... Could he?

- Only good things, i hope - i chuckled

- Of course, and in the kindest way possible - Ray laughed a bit, giving me a hug, and, damn his arms are really strong.

Getting out of Ray’s arms, I saw Frank getting close to me and I started to shake, remembering all the edits I had of him on my phone when I was a teenager, it was only a couple years ago, so probably if I look I'll find some.

- I think it’s my turn to say ‘hi’ - He chuckled and hugged me. - How are you?

- I-i'm fine.

When his eyes met mine, I blushed, and quickly looked away, hoping it wouldn't be obvious.

Well, after the moment that was awkward for me, but normal for the others (I hope) my dad and I put our things on the bus, and he started to show me where I could find the equipment stuff.

After stowing my things and getting a quick rundown of the equipment area from my dad, I wander back toward the front of the bus. The band had already dispersed, Gerard and Mikey were outside chatting, Ray was setting up something technical near the sound system, and Frank… Well, Frank had disappeared somewhere.

Feeling a little overwhelmed, I decided to step outside for a breath of fresh air. As I rounded the corner of the bus, I spotted Frank, sitting on the back steps with a cigarette between his fingers, his face relaxed as he watched the sun dip below the horizon.

He notices me immediately.

- Hey! - He said, and I turned my attention to him, making my way towards Frank - You okay?

I soon stopped next to him, and he shifted on the step, giving me room to sit next to him, and I did so, a little shyly and awkwardly, after all it was THE Frank Iero.

- Yeah, - I let out a sigh, tired. It was just the first day - I just needed some air. It's... a lot.

- Yeah, I get it. - when he spoke, cigarette smoke came out of his mouth, a mix of the woodsy notes of his cologne and cigarette smoke hit me, and it’s impossible not to feel a little dizzy - First time meeting your favorite band and all.

- Your dad’s been hyping you up a lot. - He smiled, taking a drag and putting on a subject - He’s proud of you, y'know?

Frank laughs softly, the sound light and warm, and it makes my stomach flip.

- Yeah… - Knowing my father as I do, I already knew that there was a good chance that he had said too much, so I put my hands to my face, thinking about the possibilities. - He’s been telling embarrassing stories, hasn’t he?

- He might’ve mentioned a few. But nothing too bad.- He chuckled, but the next sentence he mocked a bit, and glanced sideways at me - Except maybe the part where you had a bit of a crush on someone in the band.

I felt my nervousness increasing, my face getting hot, soI buried my face even deeper in my hands.

- Oh my god, please tell me you’re joking

- Relax, he didn’t name names. But… - He shrugs playfully - I have a feeling I know who it was…

I looked in his direction, my eyes wide, and in a matter of seconds I realized that my reaction was very obvious. Frank noticed my state, so he laid his tattooed hand on my shoulder.

- But, hey, don’t worry this is totally normal. - My heart raced with the quick eye contact we made, but he continued trying to comfort me - I had a huge thing for Debbie Harry back in the day.

I laughed, and the conversation kept going, passing through a lot of different light subjects, and word by word I calmed down. Tour stories, the weird snacks people leave backstage, music... The longer I sit there, the more I realize that despite the years I spent idolizing him, Frank feels... real. Just a guy who likes good music, bad jokes, and late-night conversations.

The time didn’t seem to pass, but Frank got up and groaned.

- Well, I should probably get some sleep. We’ve got a long day tomorrow. - He smiled at me, scratching the back of his neck - It was cool hanging out with you. Maybe we can do this again sometime?

- Yeah, I’d like that - I smiled back, and he got on the bus.

I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened that night for days, but things went far when Frank started to ask me little favors. Help him with ideas for setlists, with the excuse that I was “a fan that they need to choose the right songs”. After all, we spent about two hours together, laughing and chatting.

I started to notice that maybe these favors were some kind of excuses, ‘cause there were no reason for me to help him to find his hoodie, go with him everywhere just because “he don’t want to go alone”, help him to choose his clothes, or just being with him to listen him practiced.

It’s not like I wasn't enjoying it, but it turned worryingly suspicious. I really wanted to keep spending time with him, even though I knew it wouldn't lead to anything, and that it would only be during the tour, but even so, they were the moments I'd dreamed of for years.

But the thought of someone actually noticing gives me creeps.

Everything was going fine, but one morning after a show, I was standing outside the bus when Frank pops his head out and spots me.

- Hey, we’re grabbing breakfast. You wanna come with?

- Wouldn't I be a bother?

- Nah, it 's cool. We’ll grab you a seat. C’mon

At first, I hesitated, but his warm smile was impossible to resist. Not thinking too much, I followed him toward the diner with butterflies in my stomach. Inside, the guys settle into a booth, squishing together on one side while leaving space for Frank and I on the other.

- So, Frank - Ray breaks the silence after the coffee arrives, with a grin on his face - didn’t know you were handing out VIP passes these days.

- Exclusive breakfast invites. - Mikey chuckled - Very on-brand.

- We’ve been in the band for years! - Gerard said, playfully, pretending to be offended - Where’s my personal breakfast date?

- Shut up, guys. - Frank rolled his eyes - I’m just being nice

- ”Nice.” Right. - Ray teased, and I held myself back to not blush, glancing sideways to Frank - That’s what we’re calling it now?

- Does the ‘VIP package’ come with a t-shirt too? - Gerard smirks, taking a sip of his coffee.

Frank groaned, his knee brushing against mine under the table. I can tell he was embarrassed by their teasing but trying not to make it worse. I shifted uncomfortably, hoping the attention doesn’t give anything away.

- You guys are idiots.

Even though the teasing eventually subsides, I couldn't help but notice how Frank keeps glancing my way, as if checking to make sure I'm okay. It looks like we were sharing some secret I haven't fully acknowledged yet.

They started talking about the concert tonight, talking about what clothes they were going to wear or something, but I think I was too distracted looking at Frank out of the corner of my eye to pay attention.

The rest of the day passed normally, with the boys rehearsing and getting ready, while I helped set up the equipment, along with the rest of the staff.

When the show started, I didn't take my eyes off the stage for a single second. It's not as if I've never seen this show before, after all, it was the 3rd show of the tour, but every time there's something different. Each of the shows so far I've been looking at everyone's performance, but this one in particular I was hypnotized by Frank's performance, who always makes a point of being extremely hot.

Before I knew it, the show was over and they were leaving the stage. Frank threw the pick into the audience and ran to the opposite side from where the others had gone. The side where I was.

With his guitar slung over his body, he came even closer to me, but it was so fast that I couldn't react. His hands reached for my face and his lips collided with mine, and I didn't move away. His sweaty face brushed against mine as his tongue danced with mine. At that brief moment it was just the two of us.

He pulled out, quick, and with an awkward smile.

- Damn. Sorry… - Frank finally realized what happened, and shook his head in confusion - I... I don’t know what came over me.

- It’s okay… - i gave him a small smile, catching my breath.

After that, everything became a blur in my memory. The only thing I thought about in the last few hours before I fell asleep was how much I wanted that kiss, how much I felt that he wanted it too. The way Frank's eyes shone when he stared at me for a few seconds before apologizing.

This tension that builded between us just grows and it becomes impossible to handle, so we start sneaking around. Brief kisses when no one was around, mid-night walks, deep conversations, cuddles in the bus when it was empty… every time he touches me, I feel the way no one has ever made me feel.

Another show was about to begin and I was walking through the corridors near the dressing room when I felt a tug on my arm, just after I heard the sound of the door opening. Once inside the dressing room, my back hit the door, slamming it shut. Still in a bit of a daze, I looked up to meet Frank's beautiful hazel eyes.

Without much time to understand the whole situation, I heard the door lock click shut, and just as quickly, he kissed my lips, with his hands going up to my waist.

- Are you insane?! - mumbled, whispering in his lips, between kisses . - Show’s gonna start in less than ten minutes!

- So better we do it fast, huh. - His mouth traveled in my neck, sucking it perfectly.

His hands grip my hips like he can’t bear to let go, thumbs brushing under the hem of my shirt, I shivered.

- We don’t have time for this… - I moaned, laughing, with my hands on his chest, pushing him away.

- Exactly. - He whispered, with his lips on my collarbone - No time to waste.

Before I could say anything, he pulled up my shirt, taking it off. My back pressed even hard against the door, as his hand went back to my waist. I grab the front of his jacket, pulling him closer until his body molds against mine perfectly. His lips find mine again, the kiss turning deeper, hotter, all tongue and teeth, like neither of us could get enough.

His hands slide down, fingers hooking into the waistband of my jeans.

- We can be quick - He said. His voice was soft and low. making me bite my lips.

Frank unbuttoned my jeans and pulled them down. He slipped a hand between my thighs, looking up at me and liking his lips.

- Frank, - I panted, feeling his fingers rubbing me through my panties. - we’re gonna get caught.

I let out a moan, and a smile grew in his face.

- Then we’ll have to make it worth the risk, won’t we? - Frank teased, catching my lips again and muffled the noises coming out of my mouth.

Not taking too long, his shirt came off, as well his jeans, showing his tattooed body. He turned me and pushed my body to the couch in the corner of the dressing room. His body on mine, and his mouth in my neck, just felt right. Frank undid my bra, moving his hands to my breasts. Again I whimpered, a bit much louder this time.

- Shh, baby - He warned, teasing - Don’t want the others hearing, do you?

I shook my head, but his tone wasn’t helping at all. With no more clothes between us, he thrusted inside of me. Wasn’t the first time we did this, but it always felt like it was. Every move he made caused a turn in my stomach. Among whimpers, messy touches and praises, we were finally reaching our climaxes.

- Frank… I- I was a hot mess, with my fingers tangled in his hair. - I'm so close...

- I told you we could be quick… - He grounded - do it, angel…

Pleasures washed over my body as I felt him reaching his own pleasure.

Just in time, we dressed up, and kissed passionately one more time before he go to the stage, and performed awesome as always.

These things became more and more frequent and I no longer knew if we were “just friends”, if we were just “hooking up” or if we were really dating. Well, another day was going normally and, as usual, I started tidying up some stuff, when Mikey showed up, a little bored and bringing up a random subject. Before long, we were laughing at some pointless joke. Some a few minutes passed, and Mikey looked at his phone, noticing a message on it.

- Hum… - Mikey sighed, reading the text on his phone - Well, gotta go… we definitely need to talk more often, by the way.

- Well, I'm always here - I gave him a gentle smile. as he walked by - Bye, Mikey.

He waved at me and Frank appeared. I was surprised when I looked at his face, even though he tried to hide it, was clearly disconcerted.

- Such a funny guy, right? - He wasn’t angry, but I never heard him talking like that.

- What? - I was confused… Was he… jealous? - Mikey? What’s the problem?

- I don’t know! It just…- He stops, exhaling sharply, his hands running through his hair - It drives me nuts seeing you with someone else, okay?

I raised my eyebrow, trying to understand what he was trying to say... so I followed my first hunch, this time asking, softly and a little shyly.

- Frank… Are you jealous?

- Yeah. Maybe. I don’t know - he rubbed his hands over his face, nervous.

He approached me, holding my waist, still a little exasperated, he sighed, thinking about how to speak.

- I just... I think I love you. And it scares the hell out of me.

- I love you too… - I moved my face close to his, placing a soft kiss on his lips - and it’s okay being scared... I’m here, if you need… hm.

After that, our meetings became more and more frequent, the perfect balance between the physical, the kisses, hugs, touches... and the sentimental, long conversations, personal stories, and even comfortable moments of silence, when just the company of each other was enough.

Unfortunately, the more shows that went on, the closer it got to the moment when we would have to put an end to it, and it was obvious that neither he nor I wanted that. Even though I tried not to think about it too much, it kept haunting me whenever I wasn't near him, thinking about what it would be like to have to go on with my life pretending that none of this had happened.

Again, I was walking past the corridor hotel when Ray asked me to call Frank to go out with them. Without hesitation, I made my way to his room. I knocked on the door, not waiting for an answer.

- Hey... The guys said they're going out to drink or something - I said stepping into his room - they asked me to call you to go with them.

Frank was sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands, clearly dazed by something.

- I'm really not in the mood today... - He mumbled.

I walked up to him calmly, and placed my hand on his shoulder, caressing him.

- looks like there's something bothering you... - My tone was gentle, with genuine intention of seeing him well.

He took his hands off his face, now looking in my direction. I gave him a weak smile, trying to comfort him. His hair fell perfectly in his face, taking my attention away from the conversation and making me admire how beautiful he is.

- I'm just... - He sighed and paused for a moment, searching for an answer. - with a lot going on in my head.

My hand rose to his face, caressing his cheek. He maintained eye contact and I was mesmerized by his hazel eyes.

- Want to talk about it? -I asked, my thumb making circles in his warm skin. - 'cause i'm here if you want to-

- I can't stop thinking about you - He grunted, turning his face away from my hand. Not because he didn't want me to touch him, but because somehow it was a tease for him.

That being the case, I took this confession as a green light. So, feigning innocence, I sat on his lap. He didn't stop me, in fact, he put his arm around my waist.

- And is this a bad thing, hm? - my hands passed behind his neck, while I brought my lips closer to his - Am I a annoying thought?

With our noses touching, I felt Frank's hand come up under my shirt, still with a firm grip.

- It's actually the best thing I could think about - His voice was deep and almost a whisper, making my skin crawl.

- So what's wrong? - Before he could respond, I pressed my lips against his. Exactly the same feeling and taste as last time. It wasn't long before he broke the kiss, leaving me feeling empty.

- Everything - His eyes expressed sadness and hurt as he spoke. - Our time is getting over… This is not right…

Of course it wasn't right, but I wasn't going to give up, knowing that he wanted me as much as I wanted him. Without any shame, I brought my lips closer to his jawline, and pressed kisses as I spoke.

- But you know as well as I do that even if it's not right, it feels so fucking good. - When I spoke, he closed his eyes, letting out a whimper.

- Don't do this to me... - Frank sighed, still running his hands over my body.

Little by little, he lay down on the bed and pulled me with him. It wasn't long before he kissed me passionately, making me melt in his arms. His tongue passed over my lips, finding mine, as I positioned myself on top of him.

It was all too good to be true, until he ruined the moment by reminding me of his moral dilemma.

- 'C'mon… You know this can’t last - he grunted, upset about what I was about to say - you have to find guys your age.

Without getting off him, just settling myself more comfortably, I hugged him, resting my head on his chest.

- I don't want guys my age! - I whined, hugging him even tighter- they are immature, boring... and not even close to being as pretty as you.

- You’re ridiculous - He let out a chuckle, knowing I wasn't lying.

Frank stroked my hair, getting carried away and momentarily forgetting the point of the conversation.

- I’m serious! I want you, Frank... - I said looking in his eyes - always wanted, and I can see in your eyes that you want me too.

- You're right - Again, Frank sighed, with a sad smile on his face - But we can’t do this, angel.

- We don't have to be public... - I tried, slipping my hand under his shirt and caressing his chest - Just gimme a chance to be yours.

Leaving all malice aside, I gave him my best doe eye. It wasn't like I needed to seduce him, but to convince him that he should be with me, regardless of the rest of the world.

- You're already mine, baby... - His confusion was obvious, while he felt the need to continue our relationship and make it something serious, he knew that everything could go wrong. - But this... it’s going to get complicated.

Little by little, I got up, got off Frank and sat down next to him. He did the same thing, and then I looked at him seriously.

- That's really a big deal? - It wasn't like I was arguing, but a serious question, waiting for his answer.

Frank took a deep breath, focusing on giving me the best answer he could find.

- You're too young, and I have a career. - I opened my mouth to complain, but he was right, even if it hurt me to say - It wouldn’t just ruin me.. it’d ruin the band too.

Thinking, I couldn't find any logical thing to say, so I had to appeal to feelings.

- It’s not even illegal! and… we can keep it a secret! - I started to beg, letting my feelings control my mouth - Please, don’t push me away... I love you, Frank, I really do.

It was not something I planned, but my desperation to continue with him spoke louder than any pride could hold back.

He moved close to me, holding my chin with his fingertips, making me look at him. Frank smiled, admiring every detail of my face.

- you're so pretty, y'know? - He pressed his lips on mine, but too fast for me to kiss him back. With a sweet tone, he concluded - I love you too, angel.

His hand passed over the back of my neck and I was practically on his lap again. My arms wrapped around his neck and the feeling of his lips on mine simply made me think that there was no other man for me. Frank turned my body and laid me against the bed, leaving him on top of me, with our lips still glued.

- You're so perfect - He stammered, catching his breath with his forehead pressed against mine. - Shame you’re so damn manipulative, though.

He continued kissing my face, moving down to my chest, and his hands held the hem of my shirt, slowly lifting it.

- Not my fault you’re crazy about me - I giggled seeing him blush a little.

I lifted myself up enough so he could take my shirt off completely and throw it on the floor.

- Lucky for you - Frank looked at me in the eyes, while his hands went to my jeans, unbuttoning and opening the zipper, easily and quickly, in the blink of an eye my pants were on the floor too - I am indeed

He pulled away enough to pull off his shirt, revealing his tattooed body. I sighed, unable to take my eyes off him. I bit my lip impatiently as he pulled off his pants.

Falling back on top of me, he trailed kisses down my neck, sucking gently, while I moaned as lower as possible, knowing that even if the boys had left, someone from the staff could be passing by.

- I already said that, but I'm gonna say it again - he whispered with his lips on my skin - I love you.

I was about to tell him the same, but something interrupted me.

A knock on the door took our attention away from each other, without getting a response, the door that I thought I had locked opened, revealing the only person who definitely shouldn't see me in that situation.

- Hey, Frank, have you seen my- My dad was left speechless, not knowing whether to turn away or continue staring in disbelief.

We froze. Why didn't I lock the goddamn door?! (No, it's much better to face these kinds of things)

I could kill myself in front of them both. Shame took over me, both for my father seeing me in that situation and for putting Frank in it.

So there I was, lying on Frank's bed, half naked, with him on top of me. Frank's hands were positioned on my waist, while his mouth roamed my neck and collarbone. My fingers subtly tangled in the long strands of his hair, while my legs wrapped around his waist.

The scene was not ugly, quite the opposite, but my father looked shocked. I really expected him to leave, but after a few moments I realized he wasn't going to leave the room any time soon.

I closed my eyes and swallowed hard, before trying to speak.

-I-I'd like to say it's not what it seems… but i can't.

Frank seemed stunned by the situation, he didn't know whether to continue what he was doing or stop.

- Are you two some kind of…?

I opened my mouth to try to explain the whole thing, but before I could say anything, Frank came forward.

- I love them. - He spoke confidently, and I smiled. - I know there are a lot of problems with this, but I can't deny it.

The atmosphere in the room grew heavy as everyone exchanged glances. My father sighed, and clicked his tongue.

- Do you love him back? - he asked with an arched eyebrow.

- Yes! I love him so much!

- Then I have no complaints. - He said, in an obvious tone - You're both adults. Just… wait till I get out of the room to keep doing whatever you both are doing. And lock the door next time,yeah?

- Thanks, dad… - I let out a little smile.

My father nodded, leaving the room and closing the door.

- Good thing your dad likes me.

We laughed and he caught my lips again. I smiled against the kiss, pulling away just enough to speak.

- How could he not? - Fast, my smile disappeared, and I couldn't help but ask the thing I most feared about. - So… when the tour ends… will we, y’know, over?

- No way i’ll let you go, baby.

The soft voice that came out of his mouth gave me more pleasure than his touches at that moment. Knowing that it wasn't the end, knowing that he thought I was worth the risk. I could never have imagined such a perfect cerario

___________________________________________

~ Soooo, that's it! It ended up being much longer than I thought it would be, but I hope that if you had the patience to read this far, you enjoyed it!

let me know if u liked! <3

#my chemical romance #mcr #frank iero x reader #frank iero #frank iero smut

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woso-dreamzzz · 2 years ago

Text

Magda's Princesse

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: A look back at your birth from Magda's perspective

Magda is already at the airport when she gets the call. She recognises the caller ID instantly and a smile appears on her face as she answers it.

"I'll be there soon," She says," I'm just about to get on the plane."

"You need to call Emma," Is what Pernille answers.

Magda's just about to get her ticket checked. She stops. "What?"

"You need to call Emma," Pernille repeats," And tell her that you'll be sitting the next few games out. You're busy."

Magda, for some reason, is feeling especially stupid because she just can't quite grasp what's being told to her. "But I'm not?"

"You are!" Pernille snaps before she lets out a groan of pain," Because I will be damned if I push your baby out and you run back to England a few days later."

Magda slumps into her seat in shock. "But...You can't be having her now! She's early!"

"By two days." Pernille sounds like she's gritting her teeth. "I'll send you the hospital address. I don't care how you do it but if you miss this, Magda, I will not be happy."

The line is dropped.

Magda is a tight ball of worry the entire flight. She's drunk two glasses of wine to ease her worries before cutting herself off in case she accidentally drinks herself into a coma before getting to the hospital.

She's one of the first off the plane and through border control. It takes half an hour to get her luggage and then another to find a taxi that will get her to the hospital.

Fischer is waiting outside for her, guiding Magda inside without little fanfare.

"She came to visit us at training," Magda's national teammate tells her," And then she went into labour."

"And the baby?"

"Fine so far," Fischer replies," Nothing to report."

Magda bursts into the room and attaches herself to Pernille. "Am I late?"

Pernille gives her a look. "Does it look like you're late?"

No, it certainly doesn't and Magda breathes a sigh of relief. "I think I scared Nilla. I left all my luggage with her."

"She's got spare keys," Pernille replies through deep, calming breaths as she works through another contraction," She can take your stuff to my place."

"Is it bad?" Magda asks sympathetically, letting Pernille squeeze her hand," The pain?"

"I've been told it will get worse," Pernille says," The nurse said I'm only five centimetres dilated. We could be here for a few more hours. Have you called Emma yet?"

Magda shakes her head. No, she hasn't. She was a bit preoccupied with making sure that she didn't miss the birth.

"We have time," Pernille says," Call her now and tell her."

●～●～●～●～

It's early in the morning when you make your appearance.

In solidarity, Magda does not go to sleep even though Pernille tells her to multiple times. She doesn't because if Pernille is suffering then it doesn't stand to reason that Magda gets to relax.

She's glad about it too because you come very early in the morning and if she was sleeping, Magda is ninety percent sure that Pernille wouldn't have been able to wake her up.

But you arrive with a lot of fanfare and even more screaming.

The doctor looks at you before turning around to get your weight from the nurses while Magda mops up Pernille's sweaty forehead and pulls her in for a gentle, loving kiss.

"You did it," She whispers," She's here."

Pernille, still exhausted, manages a smile. "She's here."

"For the mamas," The doctor says in stilted English.

He passes the bundle into Magda's arms.

You're finally quiet, swaddled securely in the baby blanket your parents had picked out for you weeks ago. You're staring up at her, with wide unblinking eyes. Your mouth is open and sucking on the air, rooting for milk already.

There are wisps of hair on your head and Magda gently unwraps you. You whine a little at the loss of warmth but quieten instantly when you are laid on Pernille's bare chest.

She looks down at you with a soft look. Her finger came up to stroke your cheek. You turn your head, lips searching for milk but catching her finger instead.

She coos at you as you suckle on her finger, eyes drooping shut.

Pernille looks up at Magda, who has her camera out and has already taken pictures she knows are going to be framed on the wall of her London home.

"She's here," Pernille says again with a watery smile.

"She is," Magda replies. She joins Pernille on the bed and gently strokes your little wisps of hair. "Look at her. We've done so well. She's so sweet."

"You make beautiful babies," Pernille says with a smile.

Magda laughs. "You can't say that to anyone. I've already gotten annoyed with the teasing about me knocking you up."

"Mm," Pernille laughs too," But you did knock me up. I've got the outcome right here."

Your eyes are open again, blinking to adjust to the light and your new outside surroundings. You suck more heavily on Pernille's finger.

"I think she needs a feed," Magda says.

●～●～●～●～

They're discharged from hospital the next day and Magda hovers incessantly when they take you back to Pernille's apartment.

Your nursery has been set up for weeks now, in anticipation when Magda had last visited and raided the local IKEA, building everything herself.

You're dressed up snugly in a bunny onesie, your feet kicking as your finally placed in your crib - which had been immediately moved into Pernille's room when it became clear that neither she nor Magda wanted to be separated from you.

"Hi, princesse," Magda coos.

You kick your legs again.

"You're so pretty, yes you are."

You're kicking becomes more repetitive as you stick your fist in your mouth.

"Look at those legs go. You're going to be such a good addition to Sweden when you're older."

"You mean Denmark," Pernille rasps. She rubs her eyes, having just taken a quick power nap. "I'm not raising my daughter to wear a Sweden jersey."

Magda rolls her eyes playfully. This conversation had been happening ever since they found out Pernille was pregnant. "We'll see."

Pernille picks you up gently, supporting your head before guiding Magda to the rocking chair, slowly placing you in her arms.

Magda leans down to kiss your head and breathe in your unique newborn smell. She smiles. You stare up at her.

A camera sounds and Magda doesn't even have to look up to know Pernille is grinning.

"That's getting framed," Pernille says," I think I'll put it on my bedside table. So I can remember this moment with you and the princesse."

"We need to give her a name soon," Magda says as Pernille crouches by the rocking chair and pulls the onesie's hood up onto your head, making it look like you have floppy bunny ears. "We can't keep calling her the princesse."

"Mmm." Pernille's finger strokes over your cheek. "I know it wasn't on the list but I like y/n."

"y/n," Magda repeats," Is that your name? Are you a y/n?"

You kick your legs out, catching Magda in the ribs.

"That's a pretty powerful strike, princesse. I think she's giving us her approval."

Pernille's eyes are so full of love that Magda almost bursts into tears. "I think so too. y/n Harder-Eriksson."

"y/n Eriksson-Harder."

"We've got another day before the trip to the embassies. We'll argue about her last name later," Pernille says," What matters right now is princesse has a name now."

"It's a very pretty name."

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #The Big Adventures Universe

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nightwriter357 · 6 months ago

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Just Friends 7 - This is completely innocent

Hiii everyone! It's been a while, but I'm back with Part 7 of my Damien Haas x reader series - Just Friends! Thank you all so much for your patience and support (and hello to all the new people) I'm super excited to share this chapter with you, and I've got more coming soon – I plan to post another part before Christmas! Hope you enjoy this one!

You stand outside Damien's door, his shirt folded neatly in your hands. It feels heavier than it should, like it carries the weight of all the questions you're too afraid to ask. The plan was simple—knock, return it, leave. But now that you're here, your courage is wavering.

Still, you knock softly. Once. Twice. No answer.

You hesitate, glancing down the hall. He's probably not even here, you tell yourself. Just leave it on the door handle and—

"Damien?" you call out, pushing the door open slightly.

The room is quiet, faintly smelling of laundry detergent and something distinctly him. You step inside, your eyes scanning the space. It's tidy, the bed neatly made, but it feels lived-in, warm.

And then your gaze lands on his nightstand.

You blink, stepping closer. Propped against the lamp is a strip of photo booth pictures, its edges slightly curled. It's the photos from your fake date. In the photos, your laughter practically jumps off the glossy paper, you throwing your head back laughing, Damien squinting through an exaggerated smile, and that last frame where you're caught looking at each other almost close enough to kiss.

You swallow hard, a warmth spreading up your neck as you pick up the photostrip.

You whirl around, clutching his shirt and the photo strip in your hands like they're evidence of a crime. He leans casually against the frame, arms crossed, his brow quirked in curiosity.

Damien's voice startles you, low and slightly amused from the doorway.

"What are you doing here?"

"I, uh..." you stammer, your mind racing for an excuse. "I was just... returning this!" You lift the shirt slightly, hoping it sells your story.

You roll your eyes but fail to keep the flustered edge out of your voice. "I didn't know you kept it there."

His eyes flick to the photo strip in your other hand, and he nods toward it. "And stealing that?"

Damien takes another step closer, his gaze falling on the photo in your hand. "It's not like it's special or anything. I just... I liked the vibe of that day"

You shrug, trying for nonchalance. " Sure."

His lips twitch into a half-smile. "It's not like I pull it out to look at you every night before I fall asleep."

He shrugs, his voice dropping slightly. "It's not like it's the last thing I look at before bed every night."

You snort, folding your arms, the photo strip still clutched tightly between your fingers. "Right. It's not like you kiss it good night or anything."

The words hang in the air, weighty and unintentional. His eyes widen slightly, a flicker of regret flashing across his face, but he doesn't try to backtrack.

You clear your throat and hold up the shirt in your hand. "Anyway! I was just deciding if I should keep this or not."

He raises an eyebrow, his amusement returning. "You mean my shirt? The one you wore last week?"

You lift your chin defiantly. "Yeah. I was gonna give it back, but I've decided I'm keeping it. It's mine now."

His smirk widens. "Oh, is it? Do I get a say in that?"

"No," you reply simply, folding the shirt over your arm like you've already won.

"Bold of you," he says, his gaze flicking to the shirt before returning to your face.

"Yeah." You nod firmly, folding your arms across your chest, the shirt crinkling in your grip. "But don't worry—I'll replace it with one of mine. The sluttiest little crop top I own."

He doesn't miss a beat. "You mean the white lace one?"

You freeze, staring at him. "The white lace one?"

"Yeah," he says, voice steady, like it just slipped out.

Your jaw drops. "You're out of your mind! It barely has cleavage!"

"Exactly," he replies smoothly. "Maybe it's the barely that does it."

"You're delusional!" you say, your face heating as you glare at him. "It's the most PG thing I own!"

His smirk widens."PG? Sure. If the P stands for 'practically transparent."

You squint at him, trying to bite back a laugh. "Okay, genius. If the P stands for 'practically transparent,' what does the G stand for?"

He pauses, clearly caught off guard, but then his grin sharpens. "Gorgeous."

Your jaw drops. "Oh, shut up. That was way toooo smooth."

"Smooth?" he teases, leaning in slightly. "It's not like I rehearsed it or anything."

"Right," you shoot back, rolling your eyes. "You've been sitting here, practicing lines in the mirror, just waiting for the day someone would ask you what the G stands for."

"And it finally paid off," he quips, shrugging like he's just scored a point.

"Please." You shake your head, but the grin tugging at your lips betrays you. "It's classy and sweet and... and innocent!"

"Innocent," he repeats, his tone dripping with mock disbelief. "Sure. Except for the part where it's thin enough to read through in bad lighting."

"You're impossible," you mutter, shaking your head, though a traitorous smile tugs at your lips.

He chuckles softly, stepping closer, his smirk fading into something more genuine. His gaze lingers, warm and intent, and when he speaks again, his voice is lower, almost hesitant. "You really don't see it, do you?"

"See what?" you ask, frowning, your defenses rising instinctively against the sudden change in his tone.

He exhales through his nose, shaking his head like he's almost frustrated with you—not in a bad way, but in that way someone gets when they want to make you understand something so clearly obvious to them. "The last time you wore that top out, I saw five guys practically break their necks trying to get a glimpse of you."

You scoff, brushing him off with a wave of your hand. "That's not true. Nobody was looking at me."

His voice drops, and something shifts in his expression—something that feels like it's been carefully held back for too long. "You're oblivious to how completely entranced someone can be by you," he murmurs, his words almost reverent.

There's no teasing left in his tone, no smirk to soften the weight of his gaze as it lingers on you. It's the kind of look that makes your skin feel too warm, like he's seeing something in you that you're not ready to face. "The way you move, the way you laugh—" He exhales a shaky breath, as if realizing he's said too much but unable to stop. "It's... impossible not to notice you."

"Okay!" you blurt, breaking the moment and stepping past him toward the door. "I'm keeping the shirt."

He steps aside, letting you pass, but his voice follows you, low and teasing again. "You can keep the shirt. Just make sure I get that top in return."

You throw him a halfhearted glare over your shoulder. "Don't hold your breath."

His brow quirks in that familiar, cocky way. "What if I'm underwater?"

You pause, glancing back at him with a raised brow. "You'll drown."

His grin returns, but there's still something softer beneath it. You make your way into the hallway and press your back against the wall, clutching the shirt to your chest. Your heart races as the weight of his words—and the way he looked at you—settles in your mind.

You need to talk to someone before you spiral completely. That's how you find yourself heading to Angela's apartment.

You knock twice, sharp and quick, before stepping back and crossing your arms, still clutching Damien's shirt in your hand. Your head spins, replaying every teasing word he said, the way his grin lingered, making you feel like he knew exactly how to unravel you.

Angela's muffled voice filters through the door. "Coming!" A moment later, the door swings open to reveal her in a sweatshirt two sizes too big and fuzzy socks. She eyes you curiously, taking in your frazzled expression and the shirt in your hand.

"Okay, what happened?" she asks, skipping pleasantries entirely. "You look like you've just walked off a rom-com set. Did Damien finally kiss you, or are we still stuck in will-they-won't-they hell?"

You groan, pushing past her into the apartment. "He did not kiss me, Angela."

"Bummer," she quips, closing the door behind you. "By the way, my crazy roommate is out on one of their adventures, so we have the place to ourselves. For now."

You pace into her living room, throwing yourself onto the couch with a dramatic sigh. "I just— I'm overthinking everything. Again."

Angela plops down beside you, tucking her legs beneath her. "What things? Spill."

You hold up the shirt, waving it for emphasis. "I was going to return this, okay? I went to his room, and he wasn't there, so I... went in to leave it."

Her brow lifts. "So you broke into his room?"

"No! The door was open!" you insist, glaring at her before groaning again. "But I saw something on his nightstand. A photo booth strip of us from the fake date."

Angela blinks, her expression softening. "Wait, he has pictures of you on his nightstand?"

"Yeah," you say, voice dropping. "I mean, it's not that big of a deal, right? People keep pictures of their friends all the time."

Angela snorts. "Not on their nightstands, they don't."

You roll your eyes at her response. "Angela."

"I'm just saying!" She throws up her hands in mock innocence. "Nightstands are for essentials, like a lamp, a book, maybe your phone. If you're putting a photo there, it means something."

"I don't know," you admit, staring at the shirt still clutched in your hand. "I mean, we both went on dates with other people last Friday and I don't even really know how his went?"

Angela's brow furrows. "Last Friday? Damien wasn't on a date."

You blink at her. "What?"

She shrugs. "I saw him and Shayne in the laundry room that night. They were folding towels and arguing about fabric softener."

Your mouth opens, then closes.

"Guess he can't have a one-night stand because of what's on his nightstand," Angela says with a smirk.

You groan, tossing a pillow at her. "You're the worst."

"And you're in denial," she shoots back, catching the pillow with ease.

You twist Damien's shirt nervously in your lap, staring down at the crumpled fabric. "I guess it could be possible that Damien actually likes me," you say softly, the words strange and uncertain in your voice.

Angela, lounging opposite you with a mug of tea, perks up immediately. "Uh, yeah. Obviously. You're just now figuring that out?"

You shoot her a look, your nerves fraying. "But I don't think he's, you know... attracted to me."

Angela freezes mid-sip, her eyes narrowing at you over the rim of her mug. She sets it down with deliberate care, like she needs both hands free to deal with the nonsense you've just spewed. "Hold on. What?"

"I'm serious," you insist, feeling defensive under her incredulous stare. "He's always really sweet, but that doesn't mean he—"

"Stop," Angela interrupts, holding up a hand. "You're telling me that the guy who kissed you outside the club, went on a date with you, and told you that the only thing he'd change about you to make you the perfect woman was your taste in men—"

You blink at her, caught off guard. "It wasn't like that! It was all... fake."

"Fake? Girl, he spent his night doing laundry with Shayne instead of going on a date and he has pictures of the two of you on his nightstand." Angela deadpans. "Come on. It's so obvious he's into you."

You roll your eyes, heat creeping into your face. "Not like that."

Angela leans forward, her grin growing sly. "Alright, let's test your theory. You think he's not attracted to you? Fine. Prove it."

Your stomach tightens. "What are we talking about?"

Angela sits back, crossing her arms like she's just cracked the code to the universe. "Dress a little sexy when you go back home. Throw him off balance. Watch how he reacts."

You groan, sinking deeper into the couch. "That's your brilliant idea? Play dress-up?"

"Exactly," Angela says, beaming. "Trust me, one look at you in something hot, and he'll either faint or confess on the spot."

You hesitate, the idea both terrifying and oddly thrilling. "What would I even wear?"

Angela's grin turns downright wicked. "Oh, that slutty little white lace top?"

"Not you too, it is not slutty!" you protest, grabbing a throw pillow and swatting her with it.

"It's a little slutty," she teases, dodging the pillow effortlessly. "The last time you wore it, I saw six guys checking you out."

You bite your lip, nerves and curiosity warring inside you. "This feels like a bad idea."

"The good ones always do," Angela insists, grabbing her mug and leaning back like she's already won. "And you'll thank me when he's too busy drooling to deny he's into you."

You groan again, heading for the door, pausing just long enough to send Angela a playful, reluctant glare. She’s already back to watching her show, totally unfazed. Shaking your head, you pull open the door and step out.

You step into your shared apartment, closing the door behind you quietly. The familiar hum of the TV filters in from the living room, and you catch Damien's low chuckle, probably at whatever show he's watching. You pause, leaning against the door for a moment.

Your room is just down the hall. Taking a deep breath, you make your way there, your heart hammering with every step. Once inside, you kick off your shoes and rifle through your closet until your fingers land on the hanger holding the white lace top.

You pull it on without a second thought, the fabric snug against your skin as you smooth it over your torso. The delicate floral lace is even more striking under the dim lighting, leaving no room for doubt about its impact. Pairing it with your favorite jeans, you run a hand through your hair and take a steadying breath. You glance at your reflection one last time, Angela's voice echoing: "If he's really into you, he'll notice."

The sound of the TV grows louder as you step into the living room. Damien's sprawled on the couch, one arm draped along the backrest, his socked feet propped up on the coffee table. Shayne's nowhere to be seen—probably in his room.

Damien looks up as you walk in, his eyes flicking up from the screen to you. For a moment, his expression freezes. His gaze lingers, snagging on the lace, before he abruptly looks back to your face.

"Hey," he greets, his voice lower than usual, almost hesitant.

"Hey," you reply, your own voice light, betraying none of the nerves buzzing in your chest. You take the seat at the far end of the couch, keeping a safe distance, but you can feel his eyes on you even as you settle in.

“What?” you ask, tilting your head, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“Nothing,” he says quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. "It’s just... that top. I thought it was supposed to be mine now"

You glance down at the lace fabric, smoothing it over your stomach. “Thought I’d give it one last wear.”

Damien's gaze flickers to it briefly before returning to your face. “Right. Makes sense.”

You smirk, your fingers grazing the lace as if testing its softness. “You’re really fixated on this top, aren’t you?”

His lips quirk into a faint smile, though his gaze doesn’t quite meet yours. “Can you blame me?”

You raise a brow, caught off guard by the quiet intensity in his tone. “It’s just a top, Damien.”

“Sure,” he says, his voice lower now.

You hum, pretending to focus on the screen, though your heart pounds in your chest. The silence stretches, and while Damien's body remains angled toward the TV, his gaze doesn't follow. You feel it—how it dips, hovers, and snaps back, like he's trying to work something out without giving himself away.

“You don’t like it?” you tease lightly, raising a brow.

Damien huffs a soft laugh, but it sounds a little strained. “I didn’t say that.”

The corner of your mouth quirks up. “You seem distracted.”

“I’m fine,” he insists, though his fingers tap an uneven rhythm against the couch.

“Uh-huh,” you murmur, leaning back into the cushions. The lace shifts again as you move, and out of the corner of your eye, you catch his jaw tightening.

The silence stretches between you, heavy with the unspoken. Damien's eyes linger on you, and you shift slightly, feeling the weight of it without really knowing what to do with it.

After a beat, you glance up at Damien, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “Can I ask you something totally hypothetical?”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Hypothetical, huh? Go for it.”

You bite your lip, considering how to phrase it, the words on the tip of your tongue. “If I wasn’t me, and you weren’t you,” you begin hesitantly, “would you be attracted to me?”

He blinks at you, his brow furrowing slightly. “Would I be attracted to you if you weren’t you? Then I don’t know… who would you be?”

You huff, rolling your eyes. “No, I mean—uh—what if I was still me, and you were still you, but we weren’t... us?”

His lips curve into a faint smile as he considers it. “So, you’d still look like you? Feel like you? Act like you?”

“Yes, I’d be me,” you say, a little impatient now.

He pauses for just a moment, brow furrowing as he considers your question carefully. When he speaks, it’s quieter than usual, almost as though the answer is slipping out despite his better judgment. ‘I’d say yes.

Your cheeks flush, and you cross your arms over your chest, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through you. “Wow, Damien, that’s a totally inappropriate thing to say to a friend.”

He smirks, his confidence returning. “It’s this damn sheer lace top.”

You roll your eyes but don’t stop yourself from leaning closer, catching the way his gaze lingers just a moment too long. “It’s not even that bad,” you counter, grabbing his hand and guiding it to the fabric bellow your collarbone without really thinking.

Damien’s fingers brush against the lace, his touch light but searing, sending a ripple of heat through your body. His eyes snap up to meet yours, and for a moment, neither of you moves.

The lace feels impossibly delicate under his hand, but the warmth of his fingers seeps through it, spreading across your skin like fire. His breath catches slightly, his chest rising and falling just a bit faster now.

"Yeah," he murmurs, voice low and rough, the corner of his mouth twitching into a slight smile. "You’re right."

Your breath hitches as Damien’s thumb brushes against your skin beneath the lace, the sensation searing through you. He rubs the lace between his fingers, the heat of him a stark contrast to the cool air in the room. The space between you feels charged, every breath, every shift in the cushions amplifying the tension.

The sound of the TV fades into the background as your focus sharpens on him—on the way his eyes move to your lips for the briefest moment before snapping back to your eyes, and you feel it—the pull between you, thickening the air.

It’s as though the room has gone still—just the two of you, trapped in a moment where neither of you can speak, but still some things almost feel like they are being said. His fingers twitch slightly, and the sensation makes your stomach flip.

"This is completely innocent," Damien mutters, his voice thick with the weight of irony, the words almost a quiet confession to the tension between you both.

He doesn’t pull away. Neither do you. And it feels inevitable now—something will happen between you two.. Some day.

#smosh #damien haas #smoshblr #damien haas x reader #damien haas x you #fanfic #smosh fanfiction

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