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#i will reply to the ask that inspired this tomorrow
keikakudom · 2 months
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It's done.....
*Drops the RR!AU oneshot and runs away, please take caution of the tags....
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yourmidnightlover · 3 months
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forever?
pairing: mob!bucky x reader
summary: after being forced into a marriage you didn’t want, you become very cautious of your new husband out of fear of what he’s capable of when one of his employees makes a move at a dinner meeting.
warnings: anxious reader, threat of domestic violence (reader is just worried abt it), groping, please let me know if i missed something or need to add anything!
a/n: reader is very timid in this. i know a lot of people like a reader who doesn’t take shit and stands up for herself, but i often find myself in situations where i just shut down and don’t know how to respond… so this is kinda inspired by that feeling
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two months out of forever.
two months of what seemed like wedded bliss from the outside.
in reality, that “bliss” included sleeping in separate rooms, never even seeing each other unless necessary to make appearances for either of your parents. 
the ones who arranged for this to happen in the first place. 
you were just glad you were able to have your time for yourself. you thought you would use the time to continue writing for your book, but you’ve hit a serious case of writers block. so lovely. 
on the bright side, he wasn’t as controlling as your few friends had made it seem he would be. 
they had painted this picture of a monster in your head. a man who would loom over your presence during every waking second. a man who was controlling and wouldn’t let you have a personal life or secrets.
so far, he’s been the opposite. 
for some reason, that still leaves you unsteady. 
because they also painted him in a very violent, angry, red light. 
but maybe he had a mistress. if that were the case, he truly didn’t respect you or your family. it didn’t seem like bucky to do that, though. he wouldn’t ruin a business deal that benefitted him so much. 
the reason you married him was because your father’s finance business was going under, drowned in debts while the only options were to sell to the barnes’ or the rumlow’s. the barnes’ seemed the lesser of two evils.
the only way to smoothly transition your father’s business to be under the barnes’ control without raising any question of your father’s capability was to marry. if any questions were asked about why your father sold his company, the not so good side of the finance industry would trample after your entire family. the barnes’ would get a new company and their many clients, while your family wouldn’t become entirely blacklisted by the entire country, would be putting your family under the barnes’ protection, and there would be less questions asked as to why the company had been merged.
you had a few months of “leaking” images of you and bucky together into the tabloids to prepare the public for the news of such a big marriage. some were photos of you and bucky holding hands while walking. a couple of you at a restaurant smiling. a few staged kissing photos… those may or may not have been your favorite.
those times spent with him, in all honesty, weren’t bad at all. going for walks together at sunset, dinner dates, feeling his lips against yours…
you had gotten to know more about his childhood that the tabloids didn’t feel was important to cover. his favorite subject in school and how he actually lost his arm so many years ago. you learned each others’ fears and worries in life. your favorite thing to learn about him, however, was what he truly wanted in life. 
peace.
a couple weeks after the wedding, a few photos of the reception were once again “leaked” in order to sell the “too in love to wait” bit that everyone had started assuming upon seeing the first few photos of you and bucky together. 
but all of your history with him flew to the back of your mind as bucky knocked on your office door. 
“come in,” you replied hesitantly, not sure what he wanted from you for the first time since your wedding. he stepped through the threshold and stood at the doorframe. 
“there’s a work meeting tomorrow,” his hand remained on the doorknob, so stiff you’d think he might rip it off the precious white wood in seconds. “the men are meeting at the house. i wanted to let you know. the men in this business, they expect marriages to be of the… traditional values.”
you nodded with understanding, turning to face him with a forced grin. “so i should play the part of the doting housewife, huh?” no smile in return, so you bit back your humor in turn for matching his serious tone. “what food should i prepare, then? and uh, how many guests will we be expecting?”
“whatever’s easiest for you,” he shrugged lightly. “there will be 9 of us there.” with one final look in your direction, he left the office and didn’t return to say goodnight. 
-
the next morning you got to work setting the house up for the 6pm meeting your loving husband was hosting. 
you had decided to set up a buffet-style table outside of the main dining room where the meeting would take place. for the menu, you settled on simple grilled chicken with quite a few side options. roast potatoes, asparagus, sauteed carrots, green beans, and rolls. 
you were putting the rolls in the oven when bucky got home, seemingly entranced by the smell of all the food, heading straight to the kitchen.
“it smells amazing in here,” bucky called from the archway of the kitchen. you jumped slightly from the surprise, but swallowed down the shock and another weak smile. 
“thanks,” you nodded to the edge of the island where a large chalkboard sat, your handwriting neatly displayed on the board that listed all the food to be had. “the menu. i figured a variety would be nice, and who doesn’t like chicken, right?”
“vegetarians,” if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was telling a joke. but you knew better than that. “the men are coming in a little less than an hour. do you maybe want to change before they get here?”
you looked down at what you were wearing, a pair of blue jeans and a loose t-shirt clearly not worthy of someone who had married a barnes man. “right, of course. i’m sorry,” you finished setting the timer on the oven and ran upstairs to get yourself put together before bucky saw the tears trying to seep past your waterline. 
you settled on a black cocktail dress you had worn to one of your dad’s company events before the downfall… quickly swiping some makeup on to cover the exhaustion in your eyes and pulling your hair up to a more respectable updo rather than your typical messy bun. 
luckily you had become an expert at quickly getting ready from your time in university, as you were back in time to pull the rolls from the oven, but not before pulling on your apron. you’d be dammed if you got this stunning dress dirty right before this prestigious meeting. 
t-5 minutes before the meeting was supposed to begin and you could already hear lots of rustling from the formal dining room. you knocked on the closed doors before bucky opened the door for you. 
the men went silent as their gaze rested on you in the doorway. 
“the foods ready. buffet style?” your eyes didn’t leave bucky’s pretty blues, too scared to do anything wrong in front of his men. 
“that’s perfect, my love,” his hands gravitated to your waist before pulling your body taut against his, one hand moving a stray hair behind your ear before leaning in to whisper. “you look ravishing…”
as he pulled back, you were sure your blush was evident across your cheeks. you tried to hide it behind a smile, shrugging with a shy ‘thanks’ leaving your lips. 
“what do you say to my stunning wife, boys?” his hand squeezed your waist once more before turning to the other men, ‘thank you’s being echoed throughout the room as they stood and made their way to the kitchen to make their plates. 
in a matter of minutes, all the food was gone. you figured it was best they liked the food, even if you didn’t get to try any of it yourself like you had planned. 
you got started on cleaning everything up with earbuds in your ears, starting with the dishes already in the sink from when you were cooking. then, you were sure to place the dishes that the food was in inside the sink for you to clean before starting on wiping the counters, then sweeping, then mopping, and then back to the dishes. 
you didn’t realize that bucky had called for a break in the meeting, however. you were in for quite the rude awakening when you felt a pair of hands on your waist, but not the ones you were semi-familiar with. 
you turned around with a gasp, shock evident on your face as you tried to piece together whoever this man was. blond hair, blue eyes… definitely not steve though. you knew steve well and had seen him often. 
you pulled your earbuds from your ears in attempt to better understand what was going on. his hands were still gripping your sides, but you couldn’t necessarily escape his touch. you were backed against the sink. even if you could fight him, you’d likely lose to his strong grip. 
“is the meeting-is it over already?” your voice was so much more cowardly than you’d ever expected yourself to be. 
“no, no,” he shook his head. “just a little break, some of the guys were getting antsy.” you leaned back further, trying to create some semblance of space between you. “i figured i’d say a special thank you, on behalf of all of us guys in there.” he let one hand cup the side of your face and neck, his other hand trailing down from your waist, firmly grasping your ass with a sqeeze before you jumped at the invasion.
“i don’t-i’ve got it…”
“john,” he smiled grossly, as if he could convince you to go to bed with him.
“no need for a thanks,” you tried to remind him. “i did this for bucky. for my husband.” your eyebrows rose, trying to emphasize that his boss was also your husband. 
“i’m sure he won’t mind you getting a little bit of extra special attention, don’t you?”
then, a growling voice cut through the fear running through your veins. 
“i think he might mind.”
you turned to face bucky with wide eyes before facing john, wishing the tears welling in your eyes would just go away. 
his hands slowly retracted, stepping back with a chuckle.
“sorry, sir,” he smiled before turning to face your husband. “she was just telling me how she wanted some extra attention, weren’t you, toots?” he tilted his head expectantly.
your mouth opened, nothing leaving in spite of your brain screaming at you. what would bucky do? would he take his side? would he believe you? would he hurt you? 
you’ve embarrassed him now… humiliated him in his own home. surely he’ll take action against you for this. 
your mind replayed stories your old friends had told you about him. how he would lash out at men that betrayed him. how he never took shit from anyone who showed him any disrespect. how he was the kind of man to shoot first and ask quesitons later.
and now, in a way, you’ve both betrayed and disrespected him. or at least, that’s what he’ll think. 
you didn’t even realize tears were flowing down your face until your sobs were interrupted. 
“enough!” you finally looked at bucky before his eyes softened for a second before walking closer to you. “go to the room.” he ordered sternly. 
“but the dish-”
“i’ll take care of it,” he interrupted gravely, “go. to. the. room.” 
“yes, sir,” you nodded and swiftly left the room entirely, collapsing against the door once you had shut it, sobs wracking your body. you held your knees against your chest before trying to regulate your breathing.
he won’t hurt you.
he has to protect his image.
you’ve embarrassed him.
you’re his wife.
you’re his business deal.
you’ve humiliated him.
he’ll hurt you.
you didn’t know how long it had been since the incident. 
your sobs had subsided. you had, at some point, moved to your bed. you were still rocking your body back and forth, trying to self sooth. 
and then there was a knock at the door. 
your body instinctively jumped at the sudden noise, although it wasn’t harsh in any manner, at least not one that you were expecting. 
he twisted the knob, slowly opening the door with slow movements. 
“i-i’m so sorry,” you began apologizing as soon as he stepped through the threshold into your room. “i swear-i swear i didn’t tell him that. i didn’t even realize he was there, i promise. i wouldn’t lie to you. i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry. please believe me.” your body was still rocking and you didn’t even notice he was as close to you as he was until you saw his hand moving by your head.
automatically, you assumed the absolute worst, your head ducking into your body like a fucking turtle, the meekest squeal leaving your lips mixed with a sob. your arms went over your head protectively, as if a bomb were about to go off.
“sweetheart,” his voice sounded so broken, so torn, so unexpectedly soft. 
you finally looked at him for the first time since he came in your room. his flesh hand was holding his metal one as if it were something that could kill. in ways, it was. 
“you-there’s no need to…” after looking at him for a second longer, you noticed that his eyes had tears that almost mirrored your own. “i would never, ever lay a hand on you. i’m so sorry for scaring you. i can’t…” he sighed. “i can’t believe i made you believe i’d ever hurt you.”
“i’m sorry,” you pleaded with him once again. 
“you have nothing to apologize for,” he hesitated to reach for your hands before settling on simply grabbing a spare pillow. “i came up here to apologize. for my tone earlier… i know john. he never knows his boundaries. i should’ve… you never should’ve been put in that situation. that’s my fault. that’s on me. and i will spend the rest of forever to make it up to you.” 
“you don’t have to-”
“no, my love,” he shook his head. “can i-can i hold your hands? please?” you, without hesitation, grabbed his hands yourself. “i need to make it up to you. you’re mine. you’re my wife. it’s my job to protect you, to keep you safe. and to have someone ruin that? to touch what’s mine in my own home? i’m so sorry.” he brought your hands to his lips, pressing at least ten kisses to each hand. he was so gentle and careful it was a good thing you knew better than to think it actually meant anything.
you were surprised, to say the least, at how tender he was being with you. 
how could you have ever thought he would hurt you? that he would raise his hand and swing? that he would cause you harm? he was here declaring that he would make up this incident for the rest of eternity when it wasn’t even his doing… 
“will you stay with me tonight?” his eyes lit up at the request.
“are you sure you want that?” he became a touch more reserved. “i don’t know if it’s a good idea since you were worried i would…” his voice trailed off.
“i’m sure,” you nodded before scooting over in the bed. 
sure, your marriage was arranged and didn’t stem from true love. you may not have talked outside of when absolutely necessary. you might have even been terrified of him at one point. 
but now, the thought of forever with bucky barnes didn’t seem half bad. 
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seonghwaddict · 2 months
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the best of the best — jeong yunho
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in which yunho didn’t expect his tiring shift to end with fucking the prettiest girl who’s ever walked into the clinic.
ripperdoc!jeong yunho x fem!reader. genre. smut. cyberpunk 2077 au. warnings. non-sexual use of daddy, explicit sexual content mdni, big dick!yunho but what else is new, fingering, BACKSHOTS, yunho is a tease, implied voice kink, creampie, he gets a little rough, nicknames (pretty, baby, princess). wc. 2.5k. rating. mature.
lilo’s notes. this is really REALLY rushed because i was hit with inspiration and started writing without actually stopping so like sorry if it’s ass lol. her cyberware is based on this.
DEFINITIONS. ripperdoc; medical practitioners that can install cybernetic prostheses, called cyberware // eddies; game currency. feel free to ask for any clarifications.
listening to. cyberpunk, ateez (duh).
masterlist.
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yunho sighed as he threw a bloodied towel into the sink, hands finally clean after having installed some new cyberware on a customer. his day was spent operating edgerunners, never quite seeming to catch a break. but what else could he do as the best ripperdoc in the district, let alone this shithole of a clinic? besides, he somewhat liked his job and the pay was good, his way with words getting customers to give him a few more eddies than they were obliged to.
but, alas, it was finally closing time and he’d no longer have to deal with people until the next day. or at least that’s what he hoped.
the familiar sound of the clinic’s door rang through the lobby, singaling someone had entered before he could lock up and making him sigh in exasperation. he pinched the bride of his nose, calling out over his shoulder from the backroom, knowing whoever it was would still be able to hear him. “we’re closed, come back tomorrow!”
“please, it’s an emergency!” the person replied and he froze.
a desperate, feminine plea. yunho can’t say he’s used to hearing that tone in the clinic. with furrowed brows, he emerged from the backroom to the lobby, right behind the counter as he laid his eyes on you. he was obviously much taller than you, looking up at him with round doe eyes and softly flushed cheeks. you wore a short black skirt and a loose sweater; not a sight he was used to here either, not that he was complaining as his eyes momentarily flickered to the sliver of cleavage exposed by the low neckline. maybe he could make an exception… no. he wanted nothing more than to go home, and a pretty little thing like you couldn’t just magically change his mood.
“my ‘ware has been acting up and i heard this is the best clinic in the area,” you walked closer to the counter, one of the steps looking particularly painful as you winced mid-sentence and stumbled before continuing, “please, sir, i promise i’ll pay you well.”
he looked down at you with a raised eyebrow, letting a beat of silence wash over you before he finally answered with a sigh, “fine. go through that curtain and wait on the table. the metal one.”
you followed his hand to see him pointing at a curtain much like the ones separating beds in hospitals. with a quiet nod, you shuffled over as he ducked through the door he previously came out of. there was a small space behind the curtain and it reeked of hand sanitiser as you sat down, the table cold against your thighs. you smoothed your skirt down as he walked through the curtain and set down a tray of tools on a desk pushed against the wall.
“so, where’s the problem?” he asked, crossing his arms and giving you a once-over that had you feeling a little nervous.
“my back,” you muttered, looking down at your hands shyly as they played with the hem of your sweater, “i’ll have to take this off, if that’s okay.”
“oh, um…” he blinked before nodding and clearing his throat, moving to stand behind you. “yeah, it’s fine, go ahead.”
after a moment of hesitation, your body stretched lightly as you pulled the shirt over your head, his jaw nearly dropping at the sight. an intricately designed thin silver chrome spine merged with your skin and extending from between your shoulderblades down to just above your ass. instinctively, he reached out and brushed his fingers down the length of it, biting his bottom lip as he caught the way your back arched slightly.
“god, you’re a masterpiece.” he couldn’t help but sigh out as he let his fingertips explore the metal and the skin surrounding it. the clasp of your bra covered up just a little bit of it, but there was plenty more to see. after a moment, he caught a glimpse of a little spark in the metal on the small of your back, humming. “i see the problem… must be some sloppy wiring. i’ll take care of you, baby, just relax and stay still. you can do that for me, can’t you?”
“y-yeah.” you practically squeaked out, mentally slapping yourself for making it obvious how his words and touches made you feel.
he grinned but didn’t say anything, reaching for his tools and beginning to work. as he did, he deliberately brushed his fingertips or his wrist against your skin, against anywhere he could reach while fixing the wiring between the blades of the metal spine, just because he enjoyed messing wiht you. your waist seemed to get the most reactions out of you, unable to hold back your hitched breaths and your thighs pressing together. you were so sensitive and sweet, trying to hold back all your sounds as he riled you up with teasingly calculated touches.
“how’d you pay for this, anyway? a mod like this must’ve cost a fortune.”
“my daddy paid for it,” you explained with a shrug, “i’ve been wanting something like this for forever, so he let me get it done on my 18th birthday.”
he raised his eyebrows in surprise, nodding with a soft smile. “well, baby, you must be daddy’s pride and joy if he’s willing to drop so much on an implant like this that does nothing but make you look that much more appealing.”
“appealing?” you echoed his description of you, glancing back at him over your shoulder, “you think so?”
“of course, i’m not blind,” he roles his eyes playfully, licking eyes with you before going back to work, “in fact, i’m jealous i wasn’t the one to install all this ‘ware.”
it didn’t help that as he talked, his breath fanned over the back of your neck since he adjusted the table to raise you higher for him to work more comfortably. you learned each other’s names as he talked you through the procedure, trying to distract you from the occasional prods of a needle and sparks of the wires. he also liked to watch goosebumps form on your skin and the way your back arched just a little more as he responded to your words with low hums or muttered acknowledgments.
his hands feel a little colder than your skin as he barely runs them down your back, eyes trained on the gleaming metal. the tips of his fingers momentarily dipped below the back of your bra before slipping out again.
“does anything hurt?” he asked quietly, in a tone he noticed always made you stutter a little.
“n-no.” you shook your head before holding your breath, feeling his hands covers your waist and move down slowly, holding your hips lightly.
“good.” he hummed, nodding and removing his hands before stepping away from you completely.
the loss of his hands made your brows furrow as you looked at him, stepping into your line of vision with his back turned to you as he put away his tools.
“did you need something, princess?” he tilted his head at the sight of the pout you were trying so hard to hide, voice taking on a mocking tone.
your cheeks warmed and your brain short-circuited as he took a step toward the metal table he sat you on, standing a breath away from your knees and leaning down to your eye level. his hands braced on the table of either sides of your hips. if he wanted to, he could lean forward just a few inches and his lips would finally press against yours.
“you.” you blurted out without thinking, unable to process any thoughts in the flustered state he put you in.
“me, huh?” yunho chuckled, silky and low, fingertips brushing against the hem of your skirt as he pulled himself up to his full height and looked down at you. “a ripperdoc like me who works in heywood fixing cyberware? you need me, baby?”
flustered and a little speechless, you could only nod, lips parted as you left out soft breaths and looked up at him with eyes that begged him to kiss you. his hands left your skirt but found you again quickly, one on your waist and the other cupping the side of your face, half of his hand buried in your hair as he leaned down and finally pressed his lips against yours.
a whimper made it past you as his tongue swiped along your bottom lip before slipping into your mouth, mingling with yours and exploring. you felt him smile against your lips as you let out that sound, his fingers in your hair holding you a little tighter as his hand on your waist slid down your thigh. you, however, didn’t feel that hand moving until his fingers pressed against your soaked panties, somehow easily finding your clit through the fabric and eliciting a whine as he pulled his lips away from you.
“so wet and i’ve barely done anything.” he whispered, kissing you again as he nudged the fabric aside to run two digits through your folds, quiet squelching sounds mixing with your little moans and whimpers as he circled your clit excruciatingly slowly.
not expecting his hands to feel so good, you couldn’t stop your hips from squirming, unable to kiss back very skilfully. he circled your clit with just the right speed and pressure, keeping you restless as your pussy clenched around nothing and click slowly dripped out to smear against the table and inner thighs.
yunho gave your swollen nub a sudden pinch and you winced, your hands on his biceps clenching as he pulled away from you with a click of his tongue. “didn’t i tell you to stay still, princess?”
you parted your lips to respond but could only moan languidly as his fingers easily pushed themselves into you, crooking and perfectly prodding against your sweet spot.
“do my fingers feel too good? is it too much for you, pretty?” he mocked with a fake pout, drawing his fingers out before pushing back in. you felt his hand drop from your hair to reach for something and with a push of a button, the table lowered itself smoothly.
moments later you were on your knees, facing away from him, hips pulled up and chest pushed down. some time while he moved you to this position, he managed to remove your skirt and bra. your nipples brushed against the cold surface of the table, shuddering at the feeling combined with one of his hands kneading your ass intently while the other ran down the length of your spine. as he got to the small of your back, he pushed down a little harder, making your back arch.
“hm, so pretty and perfect,” he hummed as his clothes and very much erected cock pressed against your flushed core. you let out a broken whine, burying your face into your forearm comfortably, his fingers sliding through your folds again and spreading them apart. he groaned at the sight, your wetness glistening in the neon lighting of the clinic, spread between your thighs messily, needy hole fluttering.
when he finally pressed his tip into you and eased his way in, your breath hitched followed by a moan of his name, hands clenching as you pushed back against him. he steadied your hips with his hands, eyes rolling back from your tightness as he bottomed out and stilled to revel in the feeling if you wrapped around him for a moment.
butterflies roared in your stomach as he leaned down and kissed the top of your spine sloppily, pulling out before rolling his hips against yours. you weren’t used to this angle, especially not with someone as huge as him, but your embarrassing amount of arousal made it easy for him to move. you cursed softly, a string of whines and moans falling from your swollen lips as his fingers dug into your hips and his teeth explored your upper back, licking and sucking and biting marks into your skin.
“f-fuck, you feel s-so good.” he moaned, forehead dropped between your shoulder blades for a moment before he straightened up again, pulling your hips against his harshly as he thrusted into you, teeth sunk in his bottom lip.
not long after that you felt a knot quickly tightening in your abdomen, feeling your breath knocked out of your lungs with each snap of his hips. one of his arms wrapped around your waist before venturing lowers so he could rub at your clit quickly, the knot drawing tighter and tighter until you couldn’t take it anymore.
“y-yunho- i’m g-gonna-“
“let go, baby. go on, be a good girl and cum for me,” he cut you off, voice gentle despite his rough movements, snapping the waistband of your panties against you, “you’ll cum for me, won’t you? i’m making you– fuck, i’m making you feel so good, right? p-please cum, baby, just let go.”
his words egged you on and soon enough you did as he said, shuddering and clenching and squealing as you came all over his cock, your juices drooling down his length as he continued pounding into you. his hand left your clit to grab your hips tightly, chasing his own high now that you finished. knowing what he needed, you clenched around him rhythmically, whimpering softly because you knew he liked the sound.
without warning, he spilled himself inside you, filling you up with his hot release. your combined panting and shivers filled the area as he emptied himself. once he collected himself, he pulled out slowly, shuddering as he did so before tucking your panties back into place before his cum could seep out of you. he flipped you around easily and found your lips.
you kissed each other lazily for a while, mind foggy after your orgasms. you gasped against his lips softly as you felt his fingers press right on the fabric covering your hole.
“if you can keep everything in while i close up, i’ll take you to my place for another round… or maybe a few more,” he kissed your cheek, reaching to the side and giving you your clothes before tucking himself back into his pants, “if you’re up for it, of course.”
you giggled, also kissing his cheek in return. “i’d like that, actually. you have a really good dick.”
“is that so? good thing a pretty girl like you only deserves the best.”
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networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet @atzhouse
permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd @coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf
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melzula · 2 months
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All I Ever Wanted
pairing: zuko x reader
notes: this was originally requested by an anon but i also took inspiration from mitski’s song “your best american girl” while writing this. give it a listen during your read !
summary: as a peasant and servant girl for the palace, you should have known better than to fall for the Prince
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The sun is warm against your skin and the grass is soft beneath you as you land on your back in a fit of giggles. Azula is unamused by your antics, but Zuko finds himself laughing right along with you. It’s a peaceful summer’s day in the palace gardens, and you spend it as you would any other day by playing with your friends.
“I caught you,” you tell him with a breathless laugh after turning your head to face him.
“No way, I was just going easy on you,” he argues with playful grin, his nose nearly brushing against your own due to your close proximity on the grass. Your heart beats fast in your rib cage as you try to ignore the rising heat on your face and play it off as a result of your exhaustion and not your nerves from lying with the Prince. You haven’t realized it yourself, but you have a crush on Zuko, a painfully obvious one that he hasn’t seemed to notice yet. What you also don’t realize is that he reciprocates the feeling, and he shares the thrill that comes with being your playmate.
“Are you two done yet?” Azula finally interrupts with a roll of her eyes as she offers you her hand and helps you up from the ground. “It’s my turn to hide this time.”
“I don’t think we can play anymore,” Zuko notes with a frown as his mother makes her way towards your group. You quickly bow in respect to the Fire Lady, but she waves you off with a smile.
“I’m sorry, y/n, but Zuko and Azula must attend their fire bending lessons now. I’m afraid playtime is over for today,” she informs you apologetically.
“Yes, Fire Lady Ursa,” you reply politely before turning to give both of your friends departing hugs. “Bye Zuko, bye Azula!”
“It’s too bad you’re not a fire bender,” Azula remarks after halfheartedly returning your embrace. “Maybe dad would let us play with you more if you were.”
Her words make your body hot with embarrassment and shame, and though you don’t voice your discomfort Ursa is instantly able to pick up on it. With a scolding glare, the Fire Lady quickly urges her daughter to apologize.
“Azula, that is not a nice thing to say to a friend.”
“But it’s true,” the girl mutters under her breath only to have her mother drag her away before she can get the chance to say anything else. Zuko hesitates then, giving you an apologetic look and promising to play with you tomorrow before rushing after Ursa and Azula.
You’ve never really cared about being a non-bender, but there’s something about Azula’s words that has you questioning your worth. As the daughter of a royal family servant with no title or money to her name, you knew you were lucky to be able to grow up in the palace and play with the Fire Lord’s children. However, you never once realized that you weren’t their equal. They were royalty, a Prince and a Princess destined to become powerful benders and ruthless leaders of the Fire Nation, and you were simply a girl who would one day grow up to live a life of servitude. You had no real future or purpose ahead of you, not like they did, and yet you were the only one unaware of your unfortunate fate.
Perhaps it’s because they never treated you in such a way, and your mother did her best to shield you from your true heritage. For now you could grow up blissfully unaware of the fact that your friends would one day outgrow you.
“Mom?” Zuko asks once they’re safe inside the palace. “Do you like y/n?”
“She’s a sweet girl,” Ursa notes with a faint smile, “and she makes you both happy. So yes, I like her.”
“Then why doesn’t Dad?”
The Fire Lady’s smile fades into a remorseful frown, and she simply ushers her son forward with a shake of her head. “Let’s not worry about that now. You’re going to be late for your lesson.”
Zuko isn’t satisfied with her answer, but he isn’t give a chance to discuss it further with her. For now, he remains content with the fact that he likes you, and his mother likes you.
That is enough for him.
~~~
The day is calm as you carefully hang the clothes to dry and enjoy the warmth of the sun basking on your skin. It’s rare that you get tasked with the outdoor chores, so you savor the opportunity for as long as you can. Doing the royal family’s laundry certainly beats scrubbing the floors of the palace, and you are grateful the spirits have taken mercy upon you today.
You’re freshly fifteen and the summer is just beginning. You’ve grown into a well-mannered young woman, and you’re old enough now to be able to take on some of the work that once fell to your mother. One day you will take her place and continue to serve the royal family until you’re no longer physically able. You’ll never get to leave, but you consider yourself grateful to live on the palace grounds. You will forever have a roof over your head, food on the table, and, most importantly, your friends.
You take great care to pin Azula’s dresses down without getting any creases or wrinkles in the fabric, and you’re so lost in thought that you don’t notice the figure carefully creeping up behind you. You’re too busy reciting the words to an old Fire Nation folk song your mother had taught you to pay any mind to your surroundings, and it gives Zuko the perfect opportunity to catch you by surprise.
“Y/n!” He exclaims with a grin as his hands land firmly upon your shoulders. You nearly jump out of your skin at the act, and your reaction has the Fire Prince laughing so hard his cheeks begin to hurt.
“Zuko!” You scold with an irritated scowl as you chuck a handful of clothespins at him in retaliation. “You need to stop doing that!”
“I’m sorry, you just make it so easy,” he teases with a light nudge to your side before taking it upon himself to pick up the pins you’d discarded.
“Shouldn’t you be getting ready to leave for Ember Island?” You ask him with a quizzical look as you resume your previous work of hanging the clothes.
“That’s actually what I was coming to talk to you about,” he admits with a sheepish smile. “I want you to come with us.”
“What? You’re not serious, are you?” You retort apprehensively, halting your movements to gauge his reaction for any hint of insincerity or humor.
“I am serious. You deserve to have fun once in a while too,” he notes with a careful smile. You’re too oblivious to notice the look of admiration on his face and definitely too concerned with finding a way to let him down gently to realize he’s inviting you because he likes you. Despite your own feelings for the Prince you’ve developed over the years, you’re much too self-depreciating to ever believe Zuko could possibly feel the same. If only you knew.
“I can’t just up and leave! There’s work to be done, a-and my mother would be so upset with me if I abandoned my chores and-“
“Azula will tell our father she wishes to bring you along as a personal servant so you can come with us, and someone else will be tasked with taking on your work while you’re away. There’s no way your mom could be upset with you for serving the Princess, could she?”
“Azula would really do that for me?” You question meekly, a hopeful glint in your eyes as you hang on to his every word. You’re trying your best not to get your hopes up, but you wish for nothing more than to leave the capital city to see the ocean for the first time and feel the sand beneath your feet. As the daughter of a servant and now a servant yourself, you know you’d never get a chance like this if not for the fact that the siblings had grown fond of you over your years of friendship together. You’re lucky, because you know without them you’d truly be nothing more than a floor scrubbing peasant.
“Of course she would, she wants you there just as much as I do,” Zuko assures you. Gently taking your hands in his own, he gives them a comforting squeeze and looks into your eyes with a loving smile. “We leave tomorrow morning. Bring enough clothes to last you three days and a bathing suit.”
“I don’t own one,” you admit with an embarrassed frown, but your friend doesn’t display any sign of judgement in the slightest towards your shortcomings.
“Then I’ll take you shopping myself when we get there.”
Your heart melts at his words, your gaze falling to the ground bashfully as you try not to dwell on the fact that he’s still holding your hands. You’re in love with the Prince, and the Prince is in love with you, and everyone but you has figured out just how much you mean to each other.
Even Fire Lord Ozai, who odiously watches the scene unfold before him from the top of the palace balcony.
~~~
The shores of Ember Island are beautiful.
The waves almost seem to sparkle underneath the moonlight as they crash peacefully against the shore, and down below the lively chatter of your friends carries through the air and fills your heart with contentment. You’ve had the most perfect time here at the beach, and it pains you to know that tonight will be your last night of freedom before you must return home and resume your life as a servant girl.
The wooden doors behind you carefully slide open and closed, and soon a familiar warmth joins you out on the balcony. For a while you say nothing, simply enjoying the closeness of him as you watch Azula, Ty Lee, and Mai practice tricks in the sand below. You don’t know how to thank the Prince for all he’s done for you, for always looking out for you since you were children, for never once treating you as less than for your heritage. You don’t know how to tell him that you love him with your entire being.
So he does it for you.
“I got you something,” Zuko says after a moment’s silence, waiting for you to turn your gaze to him so he may pull out a small clam from beneath his robes. You raise a curious eyebrow at his offering as he gestures for you to take it.
“A clam shell?” You note inquisitively as you turn the gift around in your palms, carefully feeling out its grooves and intricate ridges.
“Open it,” he directs you quietly, anxiously watching your movements with bated breath.
You smile curiously at your friend before delicately pulling the top half of the shell open to reveal the contents inside. Your eyes widen in surprise at the gift that greets you, and you immediately look up to Zuko to ensure this isn’t some kind of joke.
Inside the clam sits a beautiful gold necklace with a dainty sun pendant resting in the center that shimmers under the light of the moon. It’s beautiful, and it’s certainly worth more than your own life, which is why you immediately try to hand it back to him.
“I-I can’t accept this!” You hastily insist with a quick shake of your head as you struggle to return the clam to him. “It’s too nice!”
“You can accept this,” Zuko reassures you as he carefully pushes the gift back towards you. When his efforts fail due to your persistent attempts to give back the shell, he lets out a sigh and carefully removes the necklace from the clam. “Y/n, I want you to have it.”
“But why?” You demand apprehensively, almost flinching away when he moves towards you with the necklace. You’re completely overwhelmed by his gift and unsure of what it means or why you’d ever be deserving of such a thing. You don’t want to take advantage of his kindness or his status, and you feel like he’s done more than enough for you by bringing you along on this trip, so it just feels wrong of you to take it.
“Because you deserve nice things too,” Zuko explains, and after giving you a pointed look you finally allow him to carefully put the necklace on you. The sun rests daintily along your neck, and he thinks it suits you perfectly. “I brought you on this trip because I wanted you to have fun for once, but also because… well, because I love you, and I thought a romantic setting might make it easier to tell you that.”
“You love me?”
“You haven’t noticed?” He retorts with a meek smile. “I’m not the best at words, but I know that I’ve loved you since we were children feeding turtle ducks in the pond and playing tag in the gardens. You have the purest heart of anyone I know, the sweetest smile, you are everything to me. I hope that by accepting this gift, you’ll be accepting me as someone worthy enough to be your boyfriend.”
“Oh, Zuko…” you murmur softly, eyes full of tears as you throw yourself into his arms and hug him as tight as humanly possible. You’re still shocked by the fact that the boy you love will all your heart feels the same, but you try to remind yourself not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Zuko is right when he says that you deserve to enjoy what life has to offer just as much as he does, so maybe it’s time you finally start allowing yourself the chance to finally let your guard down. You can be more than just a servant girl from the palace.
You can be happy.
~~~
You sit quietly before the vanity mirror as your mother tediously brushes through your hair to ensure not a single strand is out of place. The wrinkles in her skin crease with her nerves as she carefully begins to pin your hair back into the perfect top knot. Immediately after your return home from Ember Island, you were informed that the Fire Lord wished to speak with you. You were expected to drop your chores for the day and make yourself decent before presenting yourself to him. His request to see you surprised you considering the fact you previously believed he didn’t even know of your existence, but it made you nervous all the same. If anything were to go wrong during your meeting, you’d be jeopardizing both yours and your mother’s jobs.
“Make sure to sit up straight and no slouching,” she reminds you quietly while stopping to admire her work. “Hold your tongue until he allows you to speak and thank him for all he has done for us. It is a great honor to speak to Fire Lord Ozai, so you must treat it as such.”
“Mother, what could the Fire Lord possibly want to talk to me about?”
She doesn’t meet your eyes at first, looking away as if contemplating carefully what her next words should be. With a sigh, she sets the brush down and looks at you through the reflection. “Word has spread quickly about you and Prince Zuko, and I think he knows.”
You swallow nervously at her admission, absently brushing your fingers against the sun that hangs around your neck. You never once considered what Zuko’s father would think about his son’s choice of a partner; Ursa had always treated you as one of her own, and Azula considered you to be a good friend, but what would Ozai say of the peasant girl who had stolen his son’s heart?
You don’t have much time to mull over it further as a guard arrives to escort you from your quarters to the throne room. All eyes seem to follow you as you walk through the palace, the gold and red hues overwhelming your senses as you do your best to remain calm. You have no idea what awaits you at the end of the hallway, but there’s no escape now as the grand doors open and you’re pushed inside.
Ozai sits on the throne with a wall of flames roaring behind him. His features are stoic but his gaze is menacing as his eyes watch your meager form approach. You immediately bow in respect to the man once you reach him and kneel before his seated figure. Just as your mother instructed, you say nothing until you are spoken to.
“So you’re the girl my son has chosen to be his partner?” He drawls with a raised brow, obviously not impressed by the person before him.
“Yes, sir. It is an honor to present myself to you, my Lord,” you profess as earnestly as possible while adding another bow for good measure. You need his approval not only to continue dating Zuko, but also to ensure you and your mother are both able to continue living behind the palace walls. Even if you are there as servants tucked away in the peasant quarters, it certainly is a better place to be than out in the streets.
“I know who you are, child,” Ozai scoffs callously as he peers down at you from his place on the throne. “You are the peasant girl who managed to worm her way into the lives of my children. You are a lowly servant with nothing to your name and nothing special about you, and yet you have managed to corrupt my only son."
“Fire Lord Ozai, I-I apologize if my actions have upset you,” you quickly try to interject, but he holds a hand up and signals you to halt your pathetic rambling. Ozai does not have the time nor care to hear your excuses or explanations. That’s not what this meeting is for.
“Do you know how poorly it would reflect on me to have Zuko galavanting around the palace with a servant? Do you know how poorly it reflects on him to be seen with you? It’s a disgrace, and it is something I will not tolerate.”
“I know,” you utter quietly, trying to make yourself appear as small as you feel on the inside. Despite what Zuko has told you, you know that his father is right. You are nothing compared to him. He is the sun, the Prince, the heir to the throne. His future ahead is bright, and there is much for him to accomplish. You have no future, no plans for your life, nothing as grand or important as him and Azula. You are not the sun or the moon or even the stars that hang in his sky, you are insignificant, and you will never be worthy enough to be his.
“A future Fire Lord cannot have a maid as a wife. You must break his heart so that he no longer wants anything to do with you, so that he can move on and find a girl more worthy of becoming the future Fire Lady. You must make it appear to be your own doing and not mine, otherwise it won’t work. Have I made myself clear, child?”
“Yes, Fire Lord Ozai,” you whisper softly, a single tear sliding down your cheek as you bow to the cruel man before you. “I understand.”
~~~
The clouds that hang overhead are gray as Zuko makes his way towards the servants’ quarters. It is unheard of for any royal to ever set foot on these grounds, and so all eyes watch the Prince curiously as he approaches your humble home and knocks gently on the door. Movement sounds from the other side, and after a moment he is met with the startled face of your mother. It’s clear that she hadn’t been expecting him, and he takes her by surprise when he bows to the woman in respect.
“I apologize for coming unannounced, but I was hoping I could speak to y/n,” he utters with a look of defeat on his face. His sullen features make his lack of sleep obvious, and his eyes are full of desperation. You’ve been avoiding him for weeks and he has no clue as to why, but he hopes to figure it out soon before he starts to spiral any further.
“She’s…” your mother begins to say, glancing unsurely behind her before looking back to him, “she’s not feeling well. You can come back another time.”
“But-“
“Please, Prince Zuko, we can’t risk you catching whatever it is she’s come down with. You must go.”
She gives him no time to argue before slamming the door in his face. Zuko is stunned, but his shock quickly turns to anger as he lets out a frustrated breath of flames from his mouth before stalking off to cool himself down.
His footsteps fade into the distance as he departs, and you can only sit by the window of your room and watch him walk away. There’s a tightness in your chest that makes you feel as if you can’t breathe, and once he finally disappears over the horizon you break down into an inconsolable mess.
You love Zuko with all of your heart, so it kills you to act as if he means nothing to you. You’re trying to do what Ozai has demanded of you, but it’s agonizing and difficult. You’re too much of a coward to face him and break it off for good, so you’ve resorted to avidly avoiding the Prince at all costs. You hope that by pushing him away he’ll take it upon himself to end the relationship; it would be much less painful that way, but he’s too stubborn for his own good, and he’s persisted despite your best efforts.
The days seem to blend together as you lock yourself in your room while your mother continues to turn Zuko away. You haven’t done any of your chores or worked in days, but Ozai has not faulted you for your incompletion of tasks. Breaking Zuko’s heart is your task, and so long as you keep your word he couldn’t care less what you did with yourself.
After another week has passed, suffocation finally catches up to you and you’re forced to leave your room in order to get some fresh air. You sneak out at nightfall when the palace is quiet and your mother is sleeping so that no one can detect your presence. You retreat to the well out in the back and stare contemplatively into the water below. Clutching the sun that hangs from the gold chain around your neck, you admire the moon’s reflection in the ripples and wish you could be anywhere else but here in the Fire Nation.
“I thought I’d find you here,” a voice utters quietly, causing you to jump in alarm at the intrusion. You turn to meet the solemn gaze of the Prince, and as your back hits the cool stones of the well you find that you are cornered. You can’t avoid him now, and it’s a fact both of you are aware of.
“Zuko, I… I was just leaving,” you stammer hurriedly as you try to push your way past him, but he catches you by the arm before you can get away.
“No, not until you talk to me!” He demands, his eyes full of desperation and despair. “You’re supposed to be my girlfriend, yet you keep avoiding me. Why? Was it something I did?”
“No, Zuko, you didn’t do anything,” you insist despite refusing to meet his gaze. You’re terrified that someone will see you both together and alert Ozai, and you wish he would just release you so you could go back to hiding away in your room.
“Then why won’t you even look at me?”
Slowly, you peek your head up to meet his exasperated face. It seems he’s not going to give up without a fight, so you’re going to have to resort to doing what you’ve been trying to avoid this entire time.
“I don’t love you.”
“W-What?” Zuko stammers in quiet surprise, his hold on your arm loosening slightly. He doesn’t believe what he’s hearing from you, and his mind is scrambling to process your words.
“I don’t love you. I want nothing to do with you,” you repeat firmly, your eyes hardening as you stare up at him and yank yourself free from his grasp.
“Y/n, you don’t mean that-“
“I do mean it! I feel nothing for you, Zuko. I never have. I just felt like I couldn’t say no to you because you’re the Prince, so I had no choice but to say yes to being your girlfriend.”
Hurt flashes across his features and you’re dying inside at having to be so cruel to him. The heart of your childhood best friend is in your hands and you crush it with every word despite how much it pains you. But it’s better for both of you this way, it must be. Ozai will never let you be happy together, but apart he still has a chance to capture the promised future ahead of him. You’re doing him a favor, and you hope one day he’ll be able to see it that way too.
“I don’t understand,” he murmurs weakly, tears beginning to well in his eyes. Then, with frustration clear in his tone, “This doesn’t make any sense!”
“Did you honestly think we could actually be together?” You retort in disbelief. “Azula always said you were a fool, but I didn’t think you were this naive. A servant and a Prince don’t belong together, and you’re the only one who can’t seem to get that!”
“Alright, fine,” Zuko mutters indignantly. His sadness has quickly morphed into anger, and you hate the way it makes you feel. “Can I just ask you one thing?”
You say nothing in response, and he takes your silence as a sign to continue.
“If you don’t love me, then why are you still wearing the necklace?”
Your eyes widen slightly as your hand immediately flies to your neck to clutch the pendant, and your heart slowly begins to sink to your stomach as you realize you’ve been caught in your lie. It’s your turn now to be at a loss for words, unsure what to say as you simply stare up at him with your mouth slight agape.
“You don’t mean what you’re saying,” Zuko says firmly as he moves closer to you. “Someone else is speaking for you, aren’t they?”
“I…”
“What’s going on, y/n?” He presses gently, carefully resting a hand upon your cheek. “Why are you acting this way?”
“I can’t tell you,” you argue weakly, your own eyes becoming full of tears as you allow yourself to melt into his touch. You’ve missed the feeling of his warmth and the comfort of his closeness, and despite your mind screaming at you to remove yourself from him your heart keeps you planted in place.
“That’s nonsense, of course you can. You’ve always been able to tell me anything, so why can’t you now?”
“Can’t you just believe me when I tell you it’s for your own good?” You plead emphatically despite the wavering of your voice.
“How can this possibly be for my own good?!” He retorts in exasperation. “I’ve been miserable without you. Life feels empty when you aren’t around, and I don’t know how to deal with the fact that the girl I’ve loved all my life can’t seem to stand me.”
“It’s not like that!” You cry defensively as the tears finally begin to fall.
“Then what is it?!” Zuko demands, and you can’t seem to take any more of this torture. The lies are killing you, and you can’t help but to finally crack under pressure.
“I’m not good enough for you!” You finally exclaim as you pull yourself away from his touch. You try to choke back your sobs but the ache in your chest makes the task difficult, and you can do nothing but let your words flow freely after keeping them bottled in for weeks. “I-I have nothing to offer you, nothing that makes me special, nothing ahead of me like you do. It’s an embarrassment to the Fire Lord for you to be with me, and it will be an embarrassment for you to have me as your Fire Lady.”
Stunned by your admission, it takes Zuko a moment to process your words. He steps towards you and you flinch, effectively breaking his heart in the process. It’s clear you’re frightened, but not of him. Your fear is geared toward someone else, and the culprit must be responsible for you now feeling this way.
“Who told you such nonsense?”
“Your father,” you admit quietly much to Zuko’s dismay. His eyes immediately harden and his chest is immediately tight with anger, but he does his best to keep his emotions at bay so as to not upset you further. “He spoke to me when we returned from Ember Island and told me we couldn’t be together. Ozai demanded I break your heart so that you can move on and find another girl more suited for this life than I could ever be. I didn’t want to, I still don’t want to, but I’m doing this so that you can have a better future. I’ll only hold you back, Zuko.”
After taking a moment to digest your words, Zuko carefully steps towards you again. You don’t reject his advances this time, so he allows himself the opportunity to carefully wipe away the steady tears that fall down your cool cheeks. Despite how much of a mess you assume you must look like, the Prince still sees you as the most beautiful girl he’s ever laid eyes on.
“I don’t care what my father says,” he assures you gently as he takes your hands in his own. “You’re not an embarrassment, and there’s no other girl that could ever compare to you. I love you, y/n, and I’m not going to let anyone ever get in the way of that.”
“You mean that?” You ask with a quiet sniffle, holding his hands tight as if he’ll leave if you let go.
“Every word. Let my father and anyone else who disapproves of our relationship say what they want to say. I want to be with you, and I hope you still want to be with me too.”
His looks to you with pleading eyes that seek your reassurance, and for a moment you hesitate. Being with Zuko is all you’ve ever wanted, and now he stands here before you professing his loyalty and his love to you. The boy from your childhood had stolen your heart, and you’d be lying if you said you wanted it back.
You know being with him won’t be easy, especially not with his father’s adamant disapproval of your relationship, but you trust Zuko, and so you have to trust that everything will turn out okay. You meet his desperate gaze and gift him a faint smile, and despite knowing you’ll regret this, you wordlessly lean in to meet his lips in a kiss.
You can worry about Ozai’s wrath later. But for now, you allow yourself to melt into his embrace by the moonlit well as you share your first kiss in weeks. It feels right being in his arms once more after spending so much time apart, and you hope you’ll never have to be without his touch ever again.
| zuko tags: @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @taeeemin @livelaughlovekuni @lovialy @alexatiu
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writers-hes · 10 months
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tell me you need me (1 of 2) | c. berzatto x reader
It was good when you started but Carmen Berzatto had the ability to make anyone fall in love with him no matter how much you tried not to. (friends with benefits!carmen, smut, mndi!!!, unprotected p in v, smut! smut!, angst!! fluff, maybe some bad words, blood, unedited) MASTER LISTS
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I need you tonight. Want to go?
You sighed at the message that Carmy sent you. “Want to go” was a code for “I want to have sex.” and it’s been working pretty well for these past few months. You both needed some sort of release for the pent-up stress that you both have. Carmy, with the Bear and you, with art. You were a full-time artist; creating art inspired by food using oil paint and other forms of media. You’ve been stressed with your upcoming gallery opening next month. Would they love it? It’s quite hard to meet the expectations after winning the Herb Alpert Award in the Arts last year. It was close to Carmy’s James Beard Foundation award, if not the same. In a way, at the end of the day, you were two people excelling in your jobs except for everything else. You sucked at relationships, friendships, connection���what wasn’t artistic; you sucked at. Carmy was the same. Without thinking, you typed your response, a four letter word. Maybe you’ll see him tonight.
-
Carmy enters your home like he lived in it. He had his own set of keys, it was easier that way. He’s been so stressed with the Bear and the only thing that he needs is to blow off some of that steam before he can be functional again. There was supposed to be a celebrity who was wishing for a whole fucking kitchen tour tomorrow and he had to stay behind to make sure that everything was perfect. 
“Hey,” he greets you when he sees you perched on your couch. He liked your apartment much better; at least you had multiple rooms and your own space. It’s not like his; there was work everywhere while yours felt homey. Except your studio down the hall—damn, how much do artists earn today?
“Hey,” you replied. “Did you have dinner yet? I can heat up some of the Chinese food I ordered earlier.”
“No, no. It’s alright,” he says, removing his shoes in the doorway. You were always so tidy and meticulous. No outside clothes on the bed; he had to learn that the hard way. “Actually, um, can-can I take a shower first? I want to wash the day away and I-I smell like the kitchen.”
“And you took the L,”
“Ubered here, actually.”
“Surge rates?”
“I was in a rush.”
“Oh,” you gulped. “Well, you still have your clothes in my wardrobe and your toiletries in my bathroom.”
“Which one?” he asked. “Which-which bathroom?”
“The one in my bedroom,” you replied. “You know where the fresh towels are. So…”
“Uh, yeah-yeah,” he says. “Thanks.” You only smiled at him. Conversation before your engagements are usually awkward because you both knew what the two of you were there for. It’s more comfortable afterwards; when he talks about the Bear or asks you about your art.
You and Carmy met from a friend of a friend. You were looking for chefs that could serve you inspiration for your paintings when she mentioned Carmen Berzatto. You reached out to him and he replied three months later, telling you that he can show you some of the recipes that he’s been working on. He’s an artist himself—Sistine Chapel art kind of stuff. He explained the components of his dish over dinner in your hotel apartment in New York. You mentioned that you were from Chicago and he mentioned that he’s from Chicago too…you drank too much wine and the rest was history. 
You both stopped communicating when he met Claire but he reached out again, asking if you wanted to meet. He told you all about her and how he fucked up. You drank too much wine again. History has the habit of repeating itself.
You swore to never fall in love with Carmen Berzatto and you didn’t…not until recently. He used to leave immediately once you’re both done. Lately, he’s been staying over. He talks to you about everything. He stays over and wakes you up with coffee and some Michelin Star quality pancakes or French toast. He watches you take your first bite before he takes his, likes to watch your reaction and likes hearing your praise.
You were too lost in your reviere to notice Carmen walking to you, all fresh and clean. He lays a hand on your shoulder and kisses your neck.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks, voice deep and sultry. 
“You,” you replied, reaching up to massage his curls. 
“Good,” he says, removing himself from you and sitting on the opposite side of the couch. “Needed you today…but I want to talk first before…before…”
“That’s fine with me,” you replied, inching closer to him. “What’s wrong?” He puts his hand on your knee, squeezing it lightly. Since when was he so comfortable around you?
“I…I just… Mikey,” The name lingers heavy in the air. Anytime Carmen feels the crushing weight of the pressure, he says Mikey. Whenever he feels inadequate, not enough, never enough—he says Mikey.
“He’ll be proud of you, Carm,” you said, smiling at him. “Like everyone else is.”
“I’m sorry for not inviting you to the opening…Claire was-was there and…”
“I understand,” You put your hand over his to reassure him that everything’s okay. “I understand.”
“You wouldn’t have seen me,” he chuckled. “I was locked inside the walk-in the whole time and well, everything was great. What if I’m not needed?”
Is it too late for me to love you? 
“Carm…” you trailed off, trying to find the words. “Of course, you’re needed. The Bear wouldn’t be The Bear without you, you know? Your family must be so proud of you because I know that-that I am. I’m so proud of you and I-I need you so much,” you told him. “I need you, Carmen. More than you could ever know.”
Is it too late for me to love you? 
Maybe it was the words that you said, maybe it was the long forgotten show on the T.V., maybe it was because the T.V. screen illuminated your face in a way that was so, so beautiful. Maybe it was just him.
“Let’s go to bed,” he rasps, taking your hand and dragging you to the bedroom. Once he closes the door behind him, Carmy presses you against it, taking your chin and kissing you. It was slow and needy; this kiss was needy. You trail your hand underneath the white shirt that hugged his figure. You caress his sides up and down; softly; slowly and Carmen releases a whimper into your mouth. I need you. I need you. I need you. 
“Baby,” he whispers, pulling away from you to remove his shirt. “Baby, baby, baby.”
“I need you, Carmen,” you muster the courage to kiss his neck now, sucking and nipping right under his collarbone. He lets you do it, he lets you mark him like you own him. He tugs on the roots of your hair lightly. You lick the purple bruise, nipping it again just so it could last one more week. Carmen was sighing above you, letting you take him like he wanted to be taken. His hands itch, slipping right under the waistband of your panties to cup your heated cunt. “Carmy,”
“I know, baby. Let’s get you to bed, hm?” he asks, pushing you slightly. “Lay down for me. I missed you so much. Let me show you,”
You obey his commands, opening your legs widely like he likes. He crawls until his face is right in front and removes your underwear, tossing it to the side. He’ll take care of that later.
“You’re so wet,” he groans, when he lets his index finger trail along your slit. You buckle in need; silently begging him to do more. “So, fucking wet,” he repeats, parting your folds until he sees your glistening cunt. 
“Carm…” you whine. He spits on your clit and you whimper. 
“Let me taste you, hm?” you heard him say, his wandering fingers rubbing all sorts of shapes on your folds. You could only nod and he takes that, licking a bold stripe. You press your cunt against his tongue and he just takes it. He licks a few more stripes before sucking your clit softly. 
“Carmy,” you moan. Your hands trail down underneath your shirt, thumbs softly flicking your sensitive nipples. Carmy could just come at the sight of you playing with them but he holds back, sucking your clit harsher before plunging his thick middle finger inside you. “Oh, fuck,” 
He pumps the finger slowly…in, out, in, out while he licks your sensitive bud. 
“Fuck, Carmy,” you whimper. “Fuck me,”
“Later,” was his nonchalant reply; enjoying the sweet nectar that dripped from your sloppy pussy. It was better than any dessert he’s ever had before. If it was um to him, he’d have his head buried in between your legs, eating you out forever. You buckle again, pinching your nipples hard and tugging them. 
“Carm…”
“I know, I know,” he says, sucking your clit harshly for one last time before crawling on top of you. “Taste,” he orders. You obliged, opening your mouth and putting on a show with the way you licked your juices off of his finger. “Fuck,” he groans. He palms himself through his boxers while you sucked on his finger. You released it with one last suck before putting your hand on top of Carmy’s to feel his hardening cock underneath. You push his hand away while you squeeze his member lightly. Just enough for him to rut his hips against your hand. Just enough for him to toss his boxers to the side.
You tried to sit up to see him pump a few strokes, moaning your name while he did. He gets off the bed, looking at the way your body moved while you breathed. 
“Beautiful,” he whispers to himself before dragging your body to the end of the bed. He pries your legs open and puts one of them over his shoulder. He liked it like this, it fills you up in ways you cannot describe. “Need you to play with your tits while I fuck you, hm?”
He taps his cock against your pussy.
“Can you hear how wet you are?” he asked, sliding his cock in between your folds. You could feel the protruding vein run along your nub and you moan, massaging your breasts to show him your obedience. “Fuck,”
“Carmy…” you whimpered. “Please.”
He hums, grabbing his member and teasing your wet entrance with his pink tip. “You’re so…”
With no warning, Carmy plunges deep into you and you both groan. You were waiting for this. He’s been wanting this the whole day. He stays there for a few seconds before he thrusts in and out of you slowly. 
“Fuck,” 
The slopping noises inside your room reverberated in your walls and for a few moments, the sounds of your groans and skin slapping against skin heightens your arousal. Carmy thumbs your clit and he feels your walls clench around him.
“Don’t do that, petal,” he rasps, sweat dripping on his forehead. “I’ll cum fast if you do.”
“Sorry,” you choked out. He only grunts as he adjusts his pace. He was faster now and you could hear he ragged breathing. “Carmy, I need you.”
“Y-you need me,” he repeats to himself. “You need me.”
“I do,” you told him, moaning when he plunges his cock deep inside you. “Need you, need you,” 
“Oh, fuck,” he groans. “Tell me that you need me. Tell me,”
“I need you, Carmy,” you whine. “I need you to cum inside me,” 
Carmy’s eyes widened. You’ve never let him do that before. He always had to pull out or use a condom. 
“Want me to fill you up?” he asks, his voice strained. “I’ll fill you —oh, fuck,” 
“Yes, please,” you sobbed, breath hitching at the feeling of his cock twitch inside of you. “Fuck, Carmy.”
Sex has never felt this good. 
You could feel the breaking point come nearer and he does too. His movements were sloppier, his breathing even more ragged that it was. Your walls were clenching around him but that seemed to arouse him even more. 
“Fuck, fuck,” he grunted. “I’ll fill you up, hm?” 
“Yes, please, Carmy,” you whine. He could only nod, doing his best to keep his orgasm at bay. He wanted to prolong this feeling; this emotion but he couldn’t. “Fuck, Carmy, I’m cumming, I’m cumming. Carm—oh!”
He follows soon after, moaning your name as he shoots ropes of cum inside your pussy. He could feel your walls clench around him and he thrusts in slowly, to ride both of your orgasms away. 
“You-you liked that?” he asked. He doesn’t pull out. Instead he takes your other leg and hangs in on his shoulder. “We have to make sure that not a drop goes to waste.”
You nodded and felt his hands caress your legs slowly. He slowly lays your legs back down on the bed and crawls on top of you, kissing your torso, neck, and your chest while he did. 
“Stay there,” he ordered and you nodded in assent. You just let him cum inside you. He walks over to the carafe on your bedside, filling the glass with water and then, taking a hand towel from your cabinet. He pours a little bit of the liquid onto the towel. You sit up when he wordlessly gives you the glass of water. He watches you finish it and kisses your head when you gave him the glass back. He sets it on the floor carefully before opening your legs so he could clean you up.
“No,” you shook your head and he stops, alert because you told him no. “I’m…I’m still sensitive,”
“Okay, petal,” he nods, taking the glass and the towel away. He picks up the tossed articles of clothing puts it in the laundry basket. He was quiet when he takes a fresh set of pyjamas and underwear from your wardrobe. “Raise your arms,” he says and you do. He puts a new shirt on you. “Lay down.” You followed him. He puts a new pair of panties on you. “Thank you,”
You were so tired now but you were still so aware of Carmy’s actions. He stands up from the bed to wear new clothes and sits down on the bed. He carefully places your head on his lap and plays with your hair.
“Thank you,” he says, bowing down to kiss your forehead. “Why don’t you sleep for me, hm?”
“Will you be here when I wake up?”
“Waffles or pancakes?”
“Waffles with whipped cream.”
-
Why won’t you let me love you?
There were times when you’d fight with Carmen. A disagreement over something so, so, so small. This time, it was big. It was the opening of your gallery and he promised to be there. It was a big night—multiple art collectors and mongers from all over America came to see your latest pieces. They were all inspired by the food you grew up eating in Chicago; a collection of how culture, identities, and personalities affect eating. Your paintings were in vibrant colors—cup ramen with cheese, cannoli, food that you grew up eating whenever your mom was away. There were small details on the significance of the new collection to your life and he wasn’t there. You were on the stage, telling everyone how grateful you were to the audience but you were preoccupied, looking for a familiar mop of curls in the crowd. He didn’t come. He didn’t go. 
You smiled at them half-heartedly before leaving the stage, ready to be whisked away by some art dealer. You were whisked away by multiple guests, asking you for more details on the painting. You all told them everything they needed to know, what they should do if they’d like to make a purchase…
It would have been alright if he texted you…but he promised he’d be there. He promised he’d take you home. He promised.
-
Carmy was sitting alone in his apartment. He left The Bear earlier than usual and went straight home. He did it all, shower, put a nice suit, and fix his hair. He did it all, he even ran to the nearest florist to buy you flowers but he didn’t go. 
Isn’t this what lovers do? 
He wasn’t your lover. He couldn’t let himself be distracted again. He had to focus; he couldn’t fail the people that relied on him. He looked at the bag of groceries he got from the store; he was supposed to cook you something special tonight. Have you eaten yet? Fuck the suit that he paid for dry cleaning; fuck the flowers; fuck him. It must have hurt you—he knows that. Tonight was a big night and you were so excited to show him a painting that you’ve been working on. 
“I won’t sell it,” you told him. “I’ll have it shipped to you first thing in the morning.”
Would you still send it to him?
-
By the end of the night, you were exhausted. Happy, but exhausted. It was normal; talking to everyone and being scintillating the whole night was work but it was worth it. Your paintings all had their new owners, except for the painting that you promised to Carmy. Would he still want it? You were alone in the studio, wrapping the 4 by 3 foot canvas with the best quality glassine. You were giving this to him tomorrow. If he doesn't want to have it, you’ll probably just donate it somewhere else. 
You laid awake in your bed all night long, waiting for his text. It was funny, just last week he was begging you to tell him that you needed him but when you needed him most, he wasn’t there. 
You arrive at The Bear just before it opens, the big canvas tucked under your arm. He was sure to be there and had always told you to use the back door if you weren’t dining. You always obliged, of course, opening the backdoor to reveal everyone. You’ve met Sydney and Richie before but you haven’t met the others yet. You were an alien in an unknown world; Carmy’s employees looking at you, as if wondering who this girl was. 
“Hey,” Sydney greeted, looking at the glassine covered thing that you were carrying. “Didn’t know you were coming in today. Congratulations on your exhbit,”
“Yeah, Congrats. What’s that, sweetheart?” Richie asked. 
“Oh,” you just nodded. Carmy couldn’t even look at you. “I just came here to give this to…uh, Carmy,” you cleared your throat. “Carm…?”
“Uh, yeah-yeah,” he stuttered. “Can we go to the office?” 
“Sure.”
You followed him into the office while Richie tells everyone to go back to what they were doing. Your heart was hammering inside your chest, afraid that this was going to be another one of those petty fights that you’ve had with him. 
You were wrong. So, so wrong. 
“You didn’t come last night,” you told him, shielding yourself from him with the painting. “I…I waited.”
“Sorry,” was his laconic reply. You nodded, chuckling. 
“That’s all?” you asked. “Just…sorry? No explanation, no nothing?” you asked. “I was looking for you the whole night, Carm. You promised you were coming,”
“I don’t know what-what you want me to say,” he says, looking everywhere but at you. “I-I-I’m sorry, okay? I had other plans.”
“You promised months ago that you were coming,” you repeated. “I called Sydney last night because you weren’t answering and she told me that you left early.”
“You’re spying on me now?” he asks, suddenly defensive. “I had things to do that night. I can’t-can’t just put everything on hold for-for you.” He spits his words like venom, voice getting louder with every word.
You frowned, not recognizing who the boy was in front of you. It’s not like you asked him to put his life on hold. Your heart was beating so fast in anger, ears ringing. 
“I see. So you just need me around and you-you just I don’t know, call me because you need to get your dick wet?” you asked, matching his volume. “You just need me around when no one else is there to fuck you? Is that it?” you asked. “What the fuck?” 
Carmy blinks, tries to think of the words he’s about to say but he couldn’t stop himself. He could never seem to stop himself. 
“You’re the only one desperate enough to do so,” he shrugs. It breaks your heart in pieces, really. The nights Carmen spent nuzzling his head in your shoulder before you slept probably meant nothing to him. Your face falls, contorting in hurt at what he just said. Fuck Carmen Berzatto. Fuck him. “I’m not your fucking boyfriend. I don’t know why you expect me to just-just-just do something!”
“Maybe I wanted you there as my friend!” you shouted over. Your voices could be heard from outside but everyone else pretended like they weren’t listening to anything that you both were saying. You were shouting over each other now, the fuse just breaks. “If you didn’t have any fucking plans to actually go, then don’t give me your good for nothing fucking promises!”
“I don’t need a girl leeching on me when I’m opening a fucking restaurant. Do you want me to put everything on you just because you asked me to? I’m not your fucking boyfriend. You know that right? And maybe-maybe I don’t want to be your fucking friend either!”
“Why would I want you to be my boyfriend, Carmy? You’re-you’re fucking unreliable! You have issues that need fixing. You think Claire could fix that? You think I could fix that? You think the girls you get wrapped around your fucking finger can fix your fucked up fucking head? Huh? Is that what you think? You’re so fucking miserable you make everyone around you miserable! Grow up!” He’s hurt. That’s what you thought of him? That he was miserable? Did he make you miserable?
“I don’t need to go to your fucking art exhibition when they’re all fucking shit.”
You closed your mouth before you could protest. The pain of his words felt like a slap on the face. If he regretted it, he didn’t show it. You turned away, nodding. 
“Fuck you, Carmen. Don’t fucking call me. Don’t fucking knock on my door. Don’t…don’t fucking think of me. I’m fucking done with you,”
“Yeah? You’re done with me, huh? Fuck you,” he spits back. He heard the waver in your voice; heard how you tried to steady everything. He wanted to say sorry but you were already leaving. Richie and Sydney couldn’t even ask you what happened because you were rushing out, throwing the painting you worked hard on for days at the back. Fuck Carmen Berzatto. Fuck him. 
-
“Fuck!” his chefs could hear from outside the office. Everyone heard the vile things you both screamed at each other; everyone heard why you were so angry. Everyone fucking heard. Nobody dared to move, they didn’t want to be on the receiving end of Carmy’s anger; not when The Bear was about to open. Continuous loud bangs and sounds of some object being thrown were heard too. Sugar sighed. 
“Carm?” she called from the door. “It’s almost opening,”
“I-I-I know, Sug.” he replied, blinking. “Uh, can-can you guys go ahead? I’ll be there, I just-just need to you know, calm down?”
“Okay, Bear,” she smiles, tapping the door frame before leaving Carmen in his own thoughts. He gets out of the restaurant through the back door, about to light a cigarette, when he sees the canvas wrapped with glassine. 
“Fuck,” was the only thing he could mutter before taking it and sitting where the staff usually stayed at when they wanted a break. He lights up a stick and lets it hang loose on his lips while he opens your gift with shaky hands. He was so immersed in the experience, gently removing the tape and making sure that nothing was ruined that he didn’t notice Sydney. 
The glassine reveals a painting of a plate of cannolis. He remembered that he told you the story about cannolis during Christmas and how he wanted to recreate that—take it for himself. He traces over the precise brushstrokes shakily. 
“That’s a good painting,” Sydney spoke, her hands behind her back. “Would be a waste to just throw it out.”
“I know,” Carmy nods. “I’m sorry you had to uh, hear all of that.”
“It’s…something,” Sydney replied, making Carmy chuckle. 
“I always…always seem to uh, fuck up everything,” he muttered. “I was on the way there, you know? Last night?”
“Yeah. You were so excited,”
“I was,” he coughed. “But I didn’t go because…” Words died down in his mouth. Why didn’t he go? “I’ve said some things and she-she doesn’t want me to call her anymore and I-I understand but like, I don’t know, Syd.”
Don’t know why I could never seem to just let myself enjoy things. I don’t belong anywhere else but in the fucking kitchen. It’s the only thing I was good at.
“I didn’t really want to to, uh, fuck this up.”
-
I want to talk to you.
Come to my apartment after your shift. Or whenever.
Carmen feels his palms sweat when he reads  texts you sent him days ago. He decided to go today, finally—he was never good at confronting things; always so explosive, so defensive. He didn’t know what he’d feel like today. He knocks on your door and hears the shuffling from the other side. He just got out of The Bear; he was tired but he forced himself to go. He had to go. 
“Hey,” you smiled tightly when you opened the door. “Come in.”
He nods, wordlessly entering your apartment like how henused to. Bag and shoes on the side. Somehow, this made him more nervous than usual. This was a prelude to something else entirely; he believed that.
“How are you? he asked, voice small and looking down. 
“I’m…good,” you replied, looking away. “You?”
“Busy,” he replied. The air felt heavy and his palms were sweating. “I’m…I’m sorry for not being there when I promised you that I would,”
“Why weren’t you there, Carm?” you asked and he could hear the sadness in your voice. He knew that your exhibit meant a lot to you. “You…you told me you will and well, you were…the-the person I want to be there the most.”
“I didn’t know that. I’m- I’m sorry,” he shrugged. “But why? I mean, I-I don’t know art. I like my shit but I-I’m not cool or understand—“
“Because I like you, Carmy.” you told him, looking at him now and trying to go nearer. He stepped back and you stopped your tracks.
“You—what?” he asked, shaking his head furiously; like your confession offended him. “You…like me.”
“I do,” you nodded. “But…it doesn’t matter.”
“Fuck. How many times do we have to go back to this very same place for you to understand?” he asked, running a hand through his hair. He told you before that he didn’t want to date. You told him you understood. You told him he was being egotistic when he told you not to get attached. He wanted to leave. He didn’t expect this to happen—he didn’t want this to happen. “I don’t—I don’t—“
“Carmy,” you cautioned him, trying to ease your beating heart. “Can you listen to me? I-I-I like you, okay and I’ve been thinking about it too. I’m—you’re always staying behind after sex and well, I just maybe thought that you liked me too.” You replied, swallowing his rejection for now.
“I don’t,” he snaps, tone sharp. “We’ll both be miserable in a relationship. I’ll never make-make you happy. You’re right, you know? I’m unreliable and-and-and issues that I need to fix…and I’m not the one you’re looking for,”
“I’m sorry for saying that. It wasn’t my place to do so,” was your meek reply. How does he feel so far away when he feels so, so, so close?
“No, uh,” Carmen blinks, shaking his head. “It’s fine. I-I-I needed to hear those things, you know? I’m sorry too…for everything.”
“Thank you.”
“That’s it then?” he asked. He was distressed. How could he fuck this up after telling Sydney that he didn’t want to fuck things up with you? “I…I had fun,” You were the only one who kept me afloat when everything else turned to shit. I missed you when we stopped talking. I should have fought harder. What else could I have done?
“Fun,” you chuckled bitterly. “Fun…that’s the only thing you’re going to say to me?”
Carmy frowned. 
“What else did you want me to say?”
“I don’t know, Carmy!” you exclaimed, pacing back and forth but never towards him. “God! Tell me that I’m important to you. Tell me that I’ll still be your friend…tell me that you—that you—that I mean more than a fuck!”
Silence. Carmy couldn’t find the words to tell you what you truly meant to him…that he wanted what you wanted too but he was too scared to fuck it all up again like he did with Claire.
You nodded, looking away. You breathed in deeply, as if trying to relieve yourself of the hurt. That’s all you’ve ever meant to him. 
“You lead me along and it’s fine. I know that it’s my fault for wanting other things but at least…at least tell me that I’ll still be your friend; that I still matter to you even if I dug myself a hole by feeling things. Tell me that you still need me to put everything on hold for you because I’ve been waiting you to call me all day…”
“I don’t want you to do that. I don’t want you putting your life on hold for me,” he rasps. “I don’t…”
“But what if I wanted to?” you asked, face slightly contorted because you didn’t want to be so vulnerable in front of him. Not when he hasn’t told you what you wanted yet. Carmy was just looking at you, tapping his foot on the floor. It was a nervous habit that he developed. Fuck, he needed a cigarette.
“Can you, uh, leave?” you asked, voice low. “I…” 
“No, no, no,” he begs, rushing towards you. He grabs a hold of your elbows to remind you that he was there. Would it mean anything? Would his touch convey all of the words he wanted to say? 
“Carm…” your voice breaks. “Carm…”
“No, no. You’re not just that to me,” he reassures “But you have to understand that-that I can’t love you like that.”
“Carmen, please…” you beg, tears brimming in your eyes. “Please…just, just leave,”
You’ve never asked him to leave before but it seemed like it was what you really wanted—like it was what you really needed. He nods, kissing your head softly before detaching himself from you. 
“I’m sorry,” Carmy said. “For-for not saying the right, uh, things.”
“Yeah,” you nod, hiding yourself from him. He hated that you had to do that when you’ve cried on his shoulders multiple times. He never liked seeing you cry; he just didn’t know that one day, he’ll be on the receiving end of your sadness. He watches you rub your forehead, biting your lip to stop yourself from crying. If you started crying, would he stay?
-
It’s been months since Carmy left. He’s been in his best form in the kitchen. He was making things easier for his staff; he was working twenty four hours a day. Going to The Bear early to help with prep; staying late to help them clean after a long shift of cooking and cooking and kitchen tours. He’s been getting acclaim—more acclaim, really. There was a waiting list on his restaurant and positive reviews from left and right flooded in. The Bear was dubbed as “The Restaurant of the Year” in Chicago despite being less than a year old. 
He’s been doing good—perfect. 
It was like he was a hamster in a fucking wheel with no other way to escape. He likes putting himself in gear, like driving fast because it makes him believe that nothing really hurts him. He didn’t like being at home; it reminded him too much of you. It reminded him of when you’d lean on the kitchen counter, a small smile on your lips while you watched him cook you something. He didn’t like sitting on the couch because it reminded him of when he slept with his head on your lap. He didn’t like it in his bedroom because he’s reminded of that night when you pulled him closer in your sleep. He didn’t like The Bear because the painting that you gave him hung so proudly by the dining area. It was marvellous—they said. How was he able to get a painting that you did when your art was so valuable and in demand? 
He was moving so fast so you wouldn’t cross his mind but it seemed like no matter what he did, he'd end up thinking about you anyway. 
It didn’t matter, how come a fall like that made him feel like flying? Maybe he’s waiting for it to hit him but he was feeling alright. 
He was alright. 
“Chef!” Sydney called, looking at Carmen who was chopping the vegetables like a madman. “Carmen!”
“Fuck, what, Sydney?!” he asked, slamming his knife on the counter. 
“You’re bleeding,” Marcus told him and Carmen looked down, blood was all over the chopping board. “You’ve been bleeding for a few seconds now…we’ve all been calling your name, Chef.” 
“Fuck, I-I-I’m…” Carmen was a blubbering mess, just watching his hand bleed like it didn’t matter. “I’m-I’m,”
“Take a break, Carm,” Sydney says but her partner just shakes his head. “Carm—“
“Sydney, don’t—don’t make me take a fucking break, please.”
“You’ll need to clean up and make sure there’s no more blood,” Sydney told him. “I’m not fucking around,”
“Yeah,” he nods, putting his fist over his heart and drawing circles. Sydney nods and Carmy fixes his station. 
He couldn’t stop shaking, though. Even Tina saw how his hand trembled. What the fuck?
“Carmen,” 
“Yeah…just…just give me a second, please.” he nods, picking his knife again and doing everything perfectly. Like clockwork. He’s back. He’s back. He’s fine. I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m alright. 
PART 2
AN: Thank you for the love! This is going to be a two-part fic because I love how everything is right now… Don’t forget to comment / reblog if you like it! I read every single little thing you guys type…even the hashtags.
TAGLIST: @kpopgirlbtssvt @morgthemagpie @hal3ynicol3 @1800-queen-trash
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chriss-slut · 6 days
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Puddin'
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~ Dom!Chris X sub!fem!reader ~
Synopsis: Your friends slip up who's your favorite character, but also your fantasy kink.
warning: SMUT!! rough unprotected sex, petnames, degradation kink, daddy kink, cursing, and a lot of stuff that i can't even remeber anymore lol
A/N: this is kinda MY fantasy kink so.. 😀 btw if there's any spelling mistakes, im sorry, i didnt have time to check it :)
I have always been, in some way, a big fan of Harley Quinn (if not obsessed). I discovered her when i was around 12 years old, when Suicide Squad came out. Everything about her inspired me. Whether it was her behavior, intelligence, madness, or eccentricity, deep down, I dreamed of being like her, of being as sexy and alluring.
As I grew older, my passion for her became something I no longer showcased, simply out of fear of being judged by others. I was now 20 years old, and it seemed weird, even boring, to others to see me in the same costume at every dress-up party.
When I met Chris, I never really talked to him about this little obsession I had, mainly out of fear that he would find it strange.
Up until now, everything had been going well between us, and I didn't find it important. He didn't need to know more about this subject.
I was at home with Chris and my two best friends. We had planned to spend the afternoon together so they could meet, especially since our relationship had just become official.
Everything was going well until Julia started talking about what I was trying to keep secret:
"Oh, by the way, are you still coming tomorrow night?" Julia asked me, completely changing the subject while munching on her chips.
"Tomorrow night?" I asked, confused.
"Yeah, to Noah's costume party, like every year, Y/N!" she said in a "duh" tone, rolling her eyes.
"Um... I forgot. Honestly, I don't think so. Chris and I had planned to spend the evening together, so it's going to be difficult for me," I said, trying to find a plausible excuse to avoid further questions.
"What??!" she exclaimed, looking disappointed.
"You can come with him, and that way, you can get to know us a bit more, Chris!" added my other friend Stella, turning to my boyfriend with a big smile, and the others nodded in agreement.
"That would be nice," Chris replied with a shrug.
"See? Come on, you're coming. I don't really plan to give you a choice. We go every year, there's no way you're skipping it this time!" Julia added.
"I don't have a costume anyway, and I'm exhausted right now. It's going to be a no from me, guys, sorry," I said, trying to sound genuinely disappointed.
"You're such a liar. Are you going to make me believe you don't have a costume when you spend all your time dressing up as Harley Quinn at every opportunity?" she said, laughing.
My eye widen and i start blushing a bit. Chris turned to me, and i look at Julia with a face that says "Please, just shut your mouth."
"Oh, because, yes, I suppose you already know, but your girlfriend is completely obsessed with Harley Quinn. It's like she's totally in love with her!" Julia said to Chris, giggling.
"Julia! oh my god!" I said, embarrassed, now trying to hide my face in my hands.
"She's not wrong," Stella added. What a bunch of traitors.
"You never told me about this?" Chris said, confused, while I stood there, dying of embarrassment at the thought that the girls might make things worse.
"What, you mean she never bored you with her Harley Quinn obsession? I'm sure her biggest kink would be sleeping with you dressed as her!" Julia said without any restraint, and this time it was too much for me.
"Julia!! What the fuck is wrong with you!" I said, getting angry.
"Wow, calm down, I was just joking," she said, frowning.
Stella's mouth was wide open, and Chris looked like he didn't know where to put himself.
"You guys should go home. 'm tired, I need to rest," I said to escape the situation.
"What, seriously? You're going to be mad at me for this? Y/N!" I heard Julia shout as I left the room.
I went up to my room and shut the door behind me. My reaction was probably over the top, but I didn't want Chris to know about this. She had no right to humiliate me like that in front of him. I bury my face in my pillow and try to think about something else.
After a few minutes, I heard some knocks on my door.
"Julia, go away! I don't want to talk to you!" I shouted from my bed.
I heard the door open anyway, so I turned around to tell her to leave, but to my surprise, it was Chris.
"I'm not Julia, sorry to break it to you," he said, trying to make me laugh.
"It's not funny," I said, rolling my eyes before sitting up on my bed.
"Can I come in?" he asked.
"You're already inside anyway..." I speak, shrugging
"Are you mad at me or Julia? I don't understand anymore," he said, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms.
"Sorry," I replied, biting my lip, and he came to sit next to me.
"The girls left and asked me to tell you they really want you to be there tomorrow night," he said, placing his hand on the small of my back, and I sighed.
"Listen, I'd be very happy to go with you. I don't mind. We can always come back together and spend time alone after the party, but I don't want you to fight with your friends because of me," he said, and I turned my head towards him.
"That's not why I fought with them, Chris," I said, looking back at the floor.
"Then what was it about?" he asked.
"It's something stupid. I don't really want to talk about it!" I said, feeling the embarrassment return.
"Come on, tell me. I'm not going to judge you," he said, shaking his head.
"No!" I said, avoiding his gaze.
"Is it because of what she said about your obsession with Harley Quinn?" he asked.
"I'm not obsessed with her!" I said, getting angry.
“And that’s not what I implied. I was just repeating her words!” he responded immediately.
I sighed, realizing it was becoming ridiculous to keep this hidden from him any longer.
“Yes…” I said softly.
“Why did it upset you so much?” he asked.
“Because I was afraid she’d say more, and you’d find it weird!” I sighed.
“Why would I find it weird?” he said, gently rubbing my back.
“I don’t know…” I said, shrugging.
“I don’t find you weird, Y/N. You have every right to be a fan of any fictional character if it makes you happy. I really like Harley Quinn, too. You could have told me; I would have been happy to talk about it with you, baby,” he said, smiling.
My eyes sparkle as i hear him say that and i immediately look at him again. “Really?” I said, looking at him with admiration. I truly have a wonderful boyfriend.
“You know what, why don’t you dress up as Harley Quinn, and I’ll be your Joker? That way, you won’t miss the party, and I get to spend time with you and your friends,” he suggested, standing up.
I smiled at him, leaned to hug him tightly, and nodded.
“And when we get back from the party, I’d be happy to fuck you in your costume to fulfill your kink,” he whispered in my ear, playfully smacking my ass.
“Chris, she made that part up!!” I said, blushing deeply.
“Too bad, I was really down for that part,” he said, laughing.
i laugh too, still embarrassed, and i stand up, going to the bathroom.
_______
it's now the next day, almost 8pm, and I'm with my boyfriend arriving at my place. We just left the mall, where we went to buy a Joker costume to him.
i open my front door and we both run towards my room, since we're kinda late.
"dress up in there while i do it in the bathroom, okay?? i want it to be a surprise for you!" i say sweetly, quickly pecking Chris' lips before heading to the bathroom.
after an hour or so, i knock on the bathroom door so i can have Chris' attention and i shout from inside "Are you done??"
"Uh... I've been done for 20 minutes, Y/N." he says from my bedroom.
I burst out laughing for a bit and then i open the door, making a little pose for Chris, showing my costume.
Chris' jaw drops as soon as i open the door. He stands up and stay froze, staring at me.
i giggle softly and go over him, resting my hands in his chest "What'chu think?" i speak, in a slightly higher-pinched voice, trying to recreate Harley's voice.
Chris' jaw just drops more after hear me, he stays froze for a few more moments until he finally speaks. "wow... you look... wow!"
I giggle "you liked it?"
"Liked it? I just fell in love with you all over again!" he says, now hugging me tightly and lifting me from the ground.
I laugh cute and hug him back, tightly. "I'm so happy you liked it!"
Chris buries is face on the crook of my neck, sucking it softly. "There was no way for me to not like it. you look so hot." he whisper before kissing my neck.
I moan softly and move my hand to caress his hair. "thank you, baby..." i speak before pulling away and look at him. "You talking about me when you look like THAT is crazy!"
He grins at me "thank you, sweetheart! Lets go to that party, then?"
"Yeaaah!!" i yell happily, jumping.
He chuckles at my jump and grabs his stuff. We walk out of my house, going to the party.
After a while, we arrive at Noah's house. A lot of people outside of it, all dress up as various characters and monsters. I lead Chris into the party and after a few seconds, Julia and Stella run up to us.
"HEY, GIIIRL!!" Stella yells, happy to see me, as she hugs me from the side.
"Hey, guys!!" Julia shouts at us both, still a bit scared of me being mad at her.
"Hii!" Chris says at them, waving with a smile.
"Hi, girls! Love your costume!" I speak at Stella. She nods with a smile "Thank you! You look amazing yourself, but I'm used to see it already,"
I laugh softly, not really happy about her comment but i brush it off. "You look good too, Ju!" I speak at Julia.
She smiles at me "Thank you! You too, as always... Can i ask you something?" Julia says, with a soft expression. "Yeah, sure!" i say back.
"Uh... i just wanted to know if you're still mad at me for yesterday... I've been thinking about it all night and, I'm sorry..." She speaks softly.
I smile reassuringly "It's okay... I'm sorry too! I shouldn't have become so mad at you..."
She smiles softy and nods "It's okay, i guess we both screwed up!"
"Yeah, but its alright!" i lean to hug her as she does the same.
Suddenly, Stella speaks, loudly. "So, let's party?!?" We all yell "yess!" and that way, the party begins!
______
After hours, me and Chris are going back to my place, tired from dancing and jumping all night.
I open my front door and Chris holds the door for me to enter, smacking my ass playfully as i pass through him.
"Let's to the room. Now." He speaks in a soft but demanding way, which makes me a bit confused but i obey.
Once we get into my room, Chris closes the door behind him and quickly presses me in it, causing me to gasp softly.
"Remember what i told you yesterday??" Chris speaks, his hands caressing my sides.
"U-uh... y-yeah..?" i speak, slightly nervous, since Chris looks so hot and in a rough mood right now.
He smirks and attacks my lips in a hungry kiss. We both make out for a while. As we're still kissing, he puts his hands under my ass and picks me up from the floor, taking me to bed, where he throws me on.
He crawls on top of me and says, looking down at me "You look so damn hot right now. You have no idea how much i had to control myself to not drag you to a bathroom and fuck you right there." He leans and starts kissing my neck, intensively.
I moan in response and i wrap my arms and legs around him, pulling his body closer to mine.
"Tell me, what do you want me to do with you, Puddin'" Chris whispers, making me freeze for a second. Him calling Joker's nickname to Harley made me see stars... and made me wet.
"i-i want you to fuck me..." i say softly.
"huh? i didn't hear you, baby." he says, now lifting his head to look at me.
"i-i want you to fuck me, Chris. Please!" i whine, already desperate.
Chris smirks at me "Good girl" he says before leaning to kiss me again.
While we kiss, he takes off my Harley Quinn Jacket and toss it to the side. He gives wet kisses down my face to my collarbone, where he stays as he takes off my boots.
"mmh, you're so hot, babygirl~" he mumbles as he kisses me.
i moan softly in response, my hands now trying to take his jacket off, which he helps me with.
After a while kissing, he's now in just his jeans as i still have almost the full costume on.
He grabs my jaw tightly and speaks, firmly "you gonna do justice to your costume and act like a little slut f'me?"
I look up at him with puppy eyes and nod. He smirks and whispers "Good girl~" He moves two of his fingers that was on my jaw and slide it into my mouth, pressing it on my tongue.
"Fuck, you look so good like this... oh, imma fuck you so so good today~" He speaks, in a sensual tone.
I moan against his fingers, swirling my tongue around it.
He then takes his fingers off my mouth with a bop and attacks my lips again, then going down to my neck as his hands go under my shirt, caressing my chest over my bra. He lifts my shirt and move his hands to my back, unbuckling my bra and taking it off, without taking off my Harley Quinn shirt.
He then leans and suck my nipples, which makes me moan "mmh Chris...please, i need you..."
Chris lets out a soft chuckle and grabs my jaw again, harshly, making me look at him "I'm the one in control, got it?" he says in a demanding tone. i just nod, looking up at him.
He nods back and start kissing and sucking my breasts again, now going down my stomach, until he reaches my red and blue tight shorts.
"i gotta take this off, it drove me crazy all night." he speaks, now pulling it down, letting me in my fishnet tights, my thongs and my Harley shirt. He looks down at me and bite his lip. Chris caress my thighs and spreads them, softly passing his hand in my clothed pussy, making me whimper. "Chris, Please..."
"Did you not hear me when i said i was in control??" he speaks in a serious tone "I'll do whatever i want with you, understand?"
I sigh softly and nod. "Good." he speaks before slapping my inner thigh hardly, earning a loud moan from me.
"God, you're so good to spank!" he says, slapping my other inner thigh hardly, i moan loud again.
"Turn around f'me, ma" he speaks to me and i immediately do it. He smirk down, looking at my ass, half covered with my square tights and he spanks my ass, strongly. i cry loud, burying my face in my pillow.
He grabs a fist of my hair and pull my head back, for me to look at him. "Don't wanna mess that make up yet, do ya?" i shake my head, whining from the pain in my scalp. He throws my head on the pillow again, now with my head to the side. He slaps my ass again, and again, and again, making me whine in pain, but also in pleasure.
The last time he slaps my ass, he spanks between my ass cheeks, making me moan loud. He lets out a soft chuckle from my reaction and says "Looks like someone likes to be spanked, isn't that truth?" i whine in response and he slaps the same place again, now gripping my hair again. "answer me. with words." he speaks firmly and demanding. "y-yeah, i do... i-... i l-like it..." i speak, whiny. He lets go of my hair and whispers in my ear "you're so pathetic, aren't you? Look at you, looking like a real whore f'me"
He slaps my ass again and turns me around one more time. He digs his fingers in my square tights, right between my legs, and he stretch it out, ripping it over my pussy. He looks at my sexy thong and he looks at me with a smirk. "is this for me?" I nod softly. He slaps my clothed pussy, making me whine loud, with a smirk. "Be ready, i think you'll need to~" he says to me, before ripping my thong and tossing it to the side.
Seeing him ripping my clothes always make me more turned on, seeing his arms muscles flex gives me butterflies.
He slides his finger through my wet slit and he says "so wet for me. such a little slut for liking me treating you like this." He pushes one finger in my hole, making me moan a bit. He keeps with it in, not moving, and he looks at me. "Look at you... I'd take a photo of you just to show everyone how much of a slut you are... looking so good just for me."
Suddenly, Chris pulls his finger out and slam three fingers into me, making me moan. He starts fingering me roughly, hardly and fast.
"O-oh Chris! fuck!" i moan, leaning my head back from the intense pleasure.
He, then, stops again, making me moan frustrated. "All fours. Now." he speaks demanding and i do it, my ass now almost at his face.
Chris slaps my ass and caress my wet cunt. "so beautiful like this, puddin'... so perfect~"
I whine softly in response and he stands up, unbelting his pants. He grabs his belt and hit the bed hardly with it. "If you do something i didn't tell you to, you'll pay for it. Got it?" i nod frantically.
He pulls down his pants and take them off, tossing it to the pile of clothes on the floor. He grips my hips and pull me to the edge of the bed, so he can fuck me while standing up. He grabs both my ponytails and pull my head back. "You gonne be a good girl and not cum for me until i say it, alright? Don't leave this position and don't scream too loud until i let you, alright?" He speaks in a firm and demanding tone.
"Yeah..." i speak softly. "Yeah, what?" Chris says, pulling even more my hair. "Y-yes, daddy..." i whine. Chris slaps my ass and throw my head forward "Good girl~".
Chris rubs his clother hard dick against my wet pussy, making me moan softly. "You're so wet you're making my boxers soaked. slut!" He pulls his boxers down and slams into me, making me scream loud. He lean over my back and slaps his hand on my mouth, pulling it back harshly. "What didn't you understand about not. screaming.?" I whimper, squeezing my eyes shut, and speak against his mouth "i'm sorry..."
Chris lets out a breathy mockingly laugh and takes his hand off my mouth, my head falling down harshly. "fucking pathetic." Chris mutters, now pulling slowly out of me. i whine at the sensation and then moan loud, trying hard not to scream, when he slams into me again.
Chris moves one hand to under my shirt, squeezing my breast, and the other to my hip, now starting to thrust in and out of my cunt.
I moan as he fucks me, slowly. "Chris, please..."
Chris stops middle-way and says demanding "First off, I'm not giving you want you want. second, you're not calling me that."
I whine softly "S-sorry, daddy..." Chris slaps my ass again and start thrusting into me again, still slowly.
After a while, i give up on moaning and i stay quiet. My head down with my eyes squeezed shut. Chris notices that and start going faster, hitting my g-point every time he pushes into me. i moan and i lean down to rest on my elbows, my back arched and my ass higher.
Chris slaps my ass again and groans lowly. "mmh, baby~ why are you so hot and perfect? looking like a real slut like this, while your pussy clenches around me. fuck!" He starts punding harder, slapping my ass a few more times.
I moan deep, trying to not be loud though. Chris keeps pounding into me until my cunt starts clenching too much around his cock. He stops and speaks "You ain't cummin' now, bitch. You know what happens if you do." and starts fucking me hard again. i start moaning louder, trying my hardest to not cum. I whine "p-puddin'... p-please... i-i can't..."
Chris slaps my ass the hardest he can and says, roughly "No. You're not cummin, Y/N. Or should i call you..." he leans over me, putting his mouth right behing my ear "Harley?".
I can feel the knot in my stomach almost exploding ad he whispers that to me. I can't believe I'm finally realizing this fantasy.
He feels my pussy clenching more around him as he says that and he laughs, smacking my ass again. "oh, you liked it, dont you? you want me to call you Harley? Is that it?"
i nod frantically, barely able to speak at this point. "Words." Chris says roughly, pouding into me roughly.
"o-oh.. y-yeah, d-daddy! p-please, c-call me t-that! o-oh, fuck, its so g-good! p-please!" i whine slightly loud, tears forming in my eyes already.
Chris smirks and start fucking me harder and faster. "fuck, ma! s-such a fucking slut! such a whore f'me!" he says, groaning. I'm so glad i told Chris i liked being degrated! I'm wetter than i was supposed to.
i keep moaning loudly "d-daddy, please! i-i need to cum! p-please lemme cum!" i whine.
Suddenly, Chris pulls out and turn me around, so we're now in missionary.
Chris slams into me again and puts his hand around my neck, hard enough to hurt but not for me to be breathless. "If you gonna cum, I'll see you cum. Gotta see that pretty face with that pretty make up all messed up." He puts his hand on my face and slides it down, messing even more my Harley Quinn makeup.
He, then, slides two fingers into my mouth the deepest he can, fucking my mouth as he fucks my cunt. He starts pounding roughly again, making me scream against him fingers, also gagging a bit.
My eyes starts rolling back with tears, just as my back arching and hips jerking up, feeling myself really close to the edge.
"Look at you. All fucked up like a whore. You really became Harley Quinn, didn't you? That hot bitch. I bet you wanna fuck every guy of the city, don'chu? fuck, puddin'. you're so fucking beautiful." Chris speaks between groans as he pounds into me. i start moaning even louder as i feel myself not being able to hold my orgasm anymore. My cunt clenching around Chris' cock just makes him groan and moan more.
"Cum. Cum f'me, Harley. C'mon, babygirl, cum for daddy~" Chris whispers in my ear. That gives me the final push and i finally cum in his cock. Not a simple orgasm, though. All of this roleplay and dirty talk made me cum hard and squirt all over Chris, which makes him cum inside of me and collapse on top of me.
We both panting hard and shaking. We stay there for a while and then Chris pulls out, laying next to me.
"You did so good f'me, Harl..." He speaks softly, caressing my cheek
"y-you too, puddin'..." i say softly, still panting.
Chris leans and kissed my lips, a long peck. When he pulls away, he looks down at me, admiring me. "Why didn't you tell me this before? This was the best sex I've done in my life..."
i smile softly at him and speak softly, now turning to face him, "I'm sorry for that... if i get another kink, I'll promise to tell ya!"
i hope you liked it! pls comment what you think, I'd appreciate it! :) xoxo
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luvsellie · 1 year
Text
TONIGHT YOU ARE MINE [s. neteyam]
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pairing neteyam x metkayina!fem!reader
summary fed up with his siblings stealing you away while the sun shines, neteyam decides it's best to see you during eclipse
wc 1.2k
warnings mentions of jealousy, probably littered with grammatical errors (oops)
note first actual neteyam oneshot 😋 it took me WAYYYY too long to actually finish this. i must admit i’m a bit embarrassed lol. also this is heavily inspired by this song !!
glossary yawntutsyìp (darling), skxawng (idiot), oel ngati kameie (i see you)
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neteyam wasn’t jealous. he wasn’t. he swore to both you and himself that jealousy was something he felt a lack of, always trusting in you and the relationship you both upheld. he took great pride in not having experienced the pesky emotion. but now, as he stood watching you from the shore of one of the reef’s many beaches, he was trying to force down the bitter feeling that caused his jaw to tighten and stature to straighten.
the na’vi stealing your attention away from him weren’t even strangers. neteyam felt more betrayed that you were making more time for his siblings than you were for him. he supposed he could join in on your fun, integrate himself into the smiles and laughter, but he wanted time with you and you alone. so as he turned away, gears beginning to turn in his mind, he worked out a supposed better moment to approach you.
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“there you are! i’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
your words carried a lilt to them, and you wore an exhilarated smile as you walked up to neteyam, reaching for his hand in earnest. 
“that’s funny, ‘cause i’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he replied gingerly, his lips pulling into a grin similar to yours. he took notice of the way you were practically bouncing on your heels as he began to tug you in the direction of the water.
it was just after eclipse, and you could sense that his family (or parents in particular) would be worried about him, but you didn’t question when he said, “come with me.” 
his braids fell past his shoulders as he walked, and you squeezed his hand tenderly as water started to lap at your ankles, the waves pooling around your feet. out beyond the beach, the reef glowed with bioluminescence. you had always thought it to be prettier now than when the sun touched it.
“where are we going?” you asked.
neteyam shook his head, smile refusing to feign or falter. “you’ll see, yawntutsyìp. we’re not going far, just…out.” his tone of voice was stoic, and a small part of you thought there might be more to his answer than he was letting on.
“just out,” you repeated, hyper-aware of the way his hand felt in yours. “i like the sound of that. it has been a while since we have been together. alone.”
scoffing out a laugh, neteyam nodded, stealing a glance your way as you both walked along the shoreline. “indeed it has. you’ve been spending all of your time with my brother and sisters.”
you frowned at his words, mentally recalling your activities throughout the day. much to your dismay, neteyam was right. “they’ve required my attention; their breath hold is getting longer and longer each time we practice,” is all you told him.
“yes, but i require your time too,” neteyam drawled, his face morphed into an expression of longing. he pulled you to a stop. “you’re so distant when the sun comes out. why don’t you let tsireya take over. just for a day. i miss being with you.”
lips stretching into a soft smile, you released neteyam’s hand before bringing both your palms to his freckled face. his cheeks were warm against your skin as you said, “you’re with me now. and yes, i can talk to tsireya. she will take over tomorrow’s lessons.” after a slight pause, you stepped closer to him. “there’s no need to be so jealous, ‘teyam.”
your lover rolled his eyes, large hands grabbing your wrists and pulling them from his face. his thumbs smoothed over your knuckles as he said, “i’m not jealous. just…”
“envious of your siblings?” you finished for him, a teasing smile stretching your lips.
neteyam gave you an unamused look, but you noticed the way he was biting back a grin. “you’re such a skxawng.”
“says you!” there was no point in trying to hide that some part of you found it humorous and sweet that neteyam was jealous of his siblings for ‘stealing you away.’ you found it to be quite cute.
instead of trying to find a proper rebuttal to your intended banter, neteyam only sighed and guided your hands to rest behind his nape, his own fingers finding themselves latched to your hips. your front pressed against his, and he sighed as his amber eyes met yours.
intimidated by the sudden closeness, you found your insides twisted with anxiousness. in your peripheral, you noticed the way neteyam’s tail flickered behind him. 
“what do you want to do tomorrow?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. his gaze consistently jumped to your mouth as he awaited your response.
hit by the abrupt urge to kiss him, you shook your head. “ask me when i’m not distracted by your presence, okay?”
neteyam grinned, and you caught sight of his elongated canines as he stroked the outline of your jaw with his right thumb. “when are you not distracted by my presence, yawntutsyìp?”
giving him a disgruntled look, you rolled your eyes, leaning into his touch regardless of your annoyed facade. “just shut up and kiss me, skxawng.” using the heels of your palms, you gently urged neteyam closer and pressed your lips against his, instantly losing yourself in his taste.
your mouth moved with his, fingers splaying and threading themselves into the roots of his braids. he was so close, and yet you wanted him closer, forever engraved into your skin and mind and soul. as his teeth grazed your bottom lip, you moaned quietly before pulling away. neteyam followed suit, though, and you found yourself exhaling as his mouth began to trail the column of your neck.
“neteyam,” you said, failing to steal his attention away from the marks he was branding onto your skin. “neteyam.”
he breathed heavily against your throat. “what?”
“people…” you started, mind clouded with the sensation of his warm tongue. “people will notice marks, neteyam.”
“good,” he regarded with no hesitation, placing chaste kisses on your jawline. “let them notice.”
you let out a strained whine, your eyes locked on the blazing stars above, hands sliding down to his biceps. “my parents will notice. yours will too.”
at this, neteyam finally pulled back, his gaze lidded. his head tilted ever so slightly to the left. “what is so bad about them noticing?”
exhaling through your nose, you shot him a pointed look before shifting yourself against him. you rested your forehead against his chest, squeezing your eyes shut. “there’s nothing distinctively wrong, i suppose. everything about this—about you—just makes me nervous. or, rather, excited. my mind and senses feel tuned to a hundred percent when i’m with you. i have never felt this way. i think i am scared to express whatever this is.”
neteyam’s gaze softened with understanding, leaning down to rest his chin atop your head. he embraced you tightly—to which you were quick to do the same—and he said against your hair, “i have never felt this way either.”
you pulled away, just enough to properly look at him. “oel ngati kameie, neteyam. oel ngati kameie.”
he did not hesitate to say the phrase back, his fingers splaying across the small of your back. “i see you, my love.”
neteyam let the words hang in the air, their weighted meaning bringing heaviness to your heart. and it was at this moment, as you both stood facing each other, skin against skin, that you deemed the entire sully family to be a gift from eywa herself—it had never been so clear to you than it was now.
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© luvsellie 2023 | do not repost, republish, steal, or translate !!
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gucciwins · 1 month
Text
harry brings his girlfriend home to meet his family but it does not go as planned
word count: 5896
a/n: enjoy this story inspired by a lovely anon. happy reading, my sweet friends 💜
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Y/N was nervous. 
She squeezed Harry’s hand, trying to ground herself, but it seemed to transport her to the first time they met at the diner down the street from her apartment. 
Going to university in Los Angeles wasn’t glamorous, not when she had endless bills to pay to keep a roof over her head. She had gone to Martha’s Cakes, a small diner ten minutes from her apartment that served the best hot chocolate. The food was good too but the hot chocolate is what she ordered each visit without fail. It’s a place she’d eat when Y/N had a bit of extra to spend on herself. Instead of buying herself new shoes, or another jelly cat bag charm (Otto, the sausage dog, went everywhere with her) she decided on eating a good meal that didn’t consist of ramen or buttered noodles. She came here when she needed a pick me up or simply wanted to have a nice conversation. It was a late Tuesday in the Spring. Where the sun took longer to come down, allowing her extra time at the bar to do assignments and chat with Antonio about the best produce sales. Y/N had her head down working on an essay due two weeks from now. It was based on one of Los Angeles buildings; it could be based on the oldest church to the Dodger Stadium. Y/N decided on the Avila Adobe residence. Known as the oldest standing residence in the City of Los Angeles. Olvera St. was a famous street and was filled with history. It was one of her favorite places to walk through. 
As she was looking through photos, taking notes of significant dates, a patron sat next to her. Y/N didn’t bother seeing who it was, simply scooting her scattered papers closer to her, tucking a few under her laptop. 
“It’s not bothering me.” A man spoke. 
It startled Y/N only because he had a deep British voice. It felt odd to be hearing in such an unknown area. 
“Darla would throw coffee on it if she saw I was bothering a customer.” 
“I said it’s okay.” 
Y/N laughs. “She would say it wasn’t.” 
It seems the man lets it drop as he has nothing to reply. Y/N keeps up with updating her notes as she hears the man order a stack of the lemon poppy pancakes. Those were her favorite, Y/N would get them when she was having a bad day because it would without a fail make her smile. Y/N worked in silence over the next half hour when she felt the need to step to the restroom. Y/N did not want to pack up. Usually she asks a staff member to watch her items, but the diner seemed to be a bit busier. She looked around and her eyes landed on the pancake guy who had his headphones on. She hated bothering people, but he looked kind enough. 
Y/N tapped next to his plate to get his attention. It worked because in seconds he slipped off his headphones and had turned his whole body to look at her. It gave her the chance to look at him fully for the first time. He had a buzz cut, and it looked really good. He had slight stubble, but what captured her attention were his bright jade eyes. It felt like he was staring deep into her soul.
“Do–uh–Would you please watch my stuff? I have to use the ladies’ room.”
“Course. Guard it with my life.” 
Y/N thanked him and hurried away. When she came back, the man had slightly shifted over, his eyes staring intently at the dark screen of her laptop. 
“Thank you,” she shot him a smile. Waking up her screen and getting back to her assignment, except she couldn’t get the man out of her head. 
The dimples were something she focused on when he smiled, telling her it was no problem. Then his green eyes were so beautiful she felt she had seen them before. Though she could swear she had never met him before. She did have a weird feeling she had seen him before. Once it hit eight o’clock, Y/N knew it was time to call it. Y/N had her rough draft ready and could continue tomorrow. For now, she’d walk home and take a bath to wash away today’s day. 
Y/N was packing up and could see the green-eyed gentleman was too. She would hate herself if she didn’t ask him where she knew him from, if she knew him. Y/N had her bag strapped on her shoulder and turned to him for the last time. 
“Excuse me, sir?”
He turned, as if he was waiting to hear from her. “Yes?” 
“How do I know you?” 
The man’s smile dropped. He looked confused, so she didn’t know him. 
“Don’t think we’ve met, until today, Y/N.”
Y/N’s frown deepens. “I didn’t tell you my name.”
He pointed to her bag. She looks down at the red stitching displaying her name. Well, now she looked dumb. Of course, he could read. “You look familiar to me. Sorry if that’s weird.”
The guy clears his throat, shaking his head. “I get that a lot.” 
That’s odd, Y/N thought. 
“I feel like I know you,” she tried one last time. 
“Promise we don’t know each other. I would remember someone as beautiful as you.” 
Y/N’s jaw dropped (not literally), but her face felt warm. Fuck, she was not expecting this turn of event. “Ha, uh. I want to say me too, but uh, there’s something familiar about you.” 
Harry chuckles as if he knows something she doesn’t. 
“Can I walk you out?” He asks. 
She nods. He leaves a large tip and follows her to the exit. Y/N ways to Sonia, who shoots her thumbs up, but Y/N has no idea why. Y/N and the man linger outside the door, waiting to see who makes the first move. 
“Well, uh, can I have your Instagram?” Y/N asks, not knowing if asking for his number was too forward. At least this way she could stalk him for a bit. 
“Oh, I don’t use that. I can give you my number,” he counters. 
Y/N perks up. “That works.” She hands him her phone where she watches his hands type in his phone number into her contacts. He hands her back her phone, and she looks at the newly added contact. 
Harry S. 
It seemed that’s all she needed for her to connect the dots. She lifts her head up and Harry has a flushed face. He didn’t look away from her, almost waiting to see what she’d say. 
Y/N not sure how to break the silence. “Harry Sanchez?” 
Harry laughs, and it’s all the confirmation Y/N needs. “More like Styles.” 
“Oh.” 
Did she fuck up her chances? She feels like she didn’t. She got his number. 
“What can I use your number for?” She asks, wanting to double check. He still wants her to have it.
“Hopefully for us to plan a date.” 
“Even after this,” she points between them as if to explain what they know just happened. 
“I’d like to see where it could go.” 
“Shit, uh. Well–I’m free Thursday.” Harry smirks, making her want to crawl in a hole because now she feels desperate. “I’m going to leave.”
Harry stops her by grabbing her hand. “I think Thursday is perfect. Are you up for a sunset dinner by the beach?” 
“Sounds perfect,” she promised him. 
“Good. Thursday it is.”
Now she is standing in front of his childhood home, about to meet his mother and older sister. Y/N had spoken to his mother, Anne, on the phone a few times, but his sister was always busy when Harry tried to pass her the phone. Harry promised her it would go well, but she feared the worst. Their story was genuine but to others could sound fabricated but come on, no one knows Martha’s cakes, it’s not even on Yelp. It’s a place once stumbled upon and then shares the magic with people in their life. 
Harry said he felt like coffee and walked for a while until he saw people walk out. The smell of coffee is what drew him in, but the pretty girl he sat next to had him stay for hours. It’s something he shared months down the line. Y/N and Harry had now been together for nine months. Because of her Master’s Y/N had no time to travel. Harry visited home often, but Y/N couldn’t drop everything she was doing to go with him. He understood, but she felt his family wouldn’t. Harry met her dad and twin brothers six months into dating because they lived down in San Diego, only a two-hour drive from them. While Harry’s family lived an ocean away and she refused for him to pay for her flight to London. On top of that, she had classes and exams to worry about that did not allow her to hop on a flight for a week. Thankfully, she made it through the winter semester and had a few weeks off from her internship before going back for her last semester. Y/N knew graduation was just around the corner, and thankfully, had little debt to pay off.
Harry held her tight as he led her up the steps. Y/N was walking slower, trying to prolong the introduction. In her mind, she hoped she was simply psyching herself out and that things actually went well with Harry’s family. That they accepted her because they could see how much she loved him. 
“You ready, Lovie?” Harry flashed her a dimpled grin.
Truthfully, she wanted to say no, but Y/N couldn’t do that to him. Not when he was bouncing with excitement. “Ready.” She confirmed. 
Harry gave two loud knocks and then opened the front door. Y/N stood behind him as he rushed to embrace his mother. Anne was a sweet woman, much shorter than Harry, but by the tight embrace she held Harry, Y/N could tell she was strong. 
Anne gave Harry two big kisses, one on each cheek, before turning her attention to Y/N. 
“Y/N!” Anne cheered. She said it with so much delight, it surprised Y/N. 
In a matter of seconds, someone tightly wrapped Y/N in a hug, which she quickly reciprocated. “It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs. Twist.” 
Anne waved her off. “Call me Anne, my dear.” 
“Anne,” Y/N repeated.
“Now come in and tell me all about the trip. Did he trick you into going to that fancy lounge where you get free food?” Y/N giggled because Harry indeed took her to a fancy lounge when he said he was taking her to get a smoothie. 
Y/N spared a smile at Harry, but it was quick to fall when Y/N met another pair of eyes in the kitchen, looking at her with an intense stare. It dropped quickly because her attention shifted to Harry. Y/N focused back on Anne, trying to brush off the moment as something she imagined. 
Y/N tried her best to ignore the pit forming in her stomach. There was no need to worry. Harry talked about wonderful things about his family. She was in safe hands. At least that’s what she kept reminding herself.
+
Y/N didn’t feel welcome. Anne was a gem, but Gemma was cold and looked bored whenever Y/N said a word. Y/N wondered if Harry picked up on it. He hadn’t said a word. Harry was home and had no time to deal with Y/N’s insecurities. She had to be reading into Gemma, not liking her. Harry spoke the world of his older sister. He said she was his best friend, someone whose opinion he valued. Fear struck her. If Gemma didn’t like her after this visit, she knew that as soon as she got on that plane to go home, Harry would be breaking up with her. At least she’d had several hours to cry about on the plane pathetically.  
“There’s no way she didn’t know who you were,” Gemma scoffed, unbelieving of their story. 
Harry brushed off her comment as if she said nothing. “Gem, I was bald.” 
“Your face didn’t change.”
Harry sighs, “no, but you did a double take when I showed up to your doorstep to show you.” 
Gemma frowns, knowing he was right. “Whatever, you were all over twitter.” 
Harry is beginning to pick up on his sister’s defense and knows to drop it but will be picking it up with her later. “Anyway. Sitting next to each other, she asked me to watch her stuff when she had to use the restroom.”
“To look you up,” Gemma coughs.
Y/N fidgets in her chair, wanting to be anywhere but here. Harry continues with his story. “She thanked me and went back to her work. Before she left, Y/N asked if we knew each other, but I told her we didn’t. I wouldn’t forget someone as beautiful as her.” 
“Charming,” Anne gloats. “My charming boy.” 
Harry finished the story, stating it was meant to be. He had loved spending the time in Los Angeles getting to see the city through Y/N’s eyes. It’s a city she’s been living in for a couple of years. There was a lot for her to share with him. Harry had taken a liking to her favorite coffee shop. It had a design resembling a greenhouse and filled with plants, mainly featuring dried lavender. Truthfully, he spent a lot of time there because it was Y/N’s preferred place to study because it never got busy. Y/N called it her hidden gem. 
“I’ve never been happier,” Harry shares. Y/N beams at his words but can’t help glancing at Gemma, who can’t help but look sick to her stomach at hearing this news.
Dinner passed dreadfully slowly. Y/N comments when she needs to but honestly hopes to disappear for the night soon, no longer wanting to burden Gemma with her presence. While Anne showed Y/N where she could freshen up, Harry stayed downstairs to share a nightcap with his sister. 
Anne comes back to join them, but Gemma bites her tongue until their mother bids them goodnight. Harry gives his mother a tight embrace, commenting on how much he missed her. Gemma was happy her younger brother was home. 
“Are you happy, Harry?” Gemma breaks the silence that had fallen between them.
Harry sighs, “never been happier.” 
Gemma frowns, because she believes him. “I-I-nevermind.” 
Harry frowns because Gemma is never someone to stop herself from saying what’s on her mind. “Hey,” he places his hand on top of hers. “It’s me. Your annoying younger brother, you can tell me anything.” 
She removes her hand from under his and places them on her lap. “I don’t think she’s right for you.”
Harry sits back, surprised. “Sorry?”
“It’s clear she’s after something.” 
He’s having a hard time believing his sister. “Like what?”
“Your money.” 
“Is that all I’m good for?” He asks, baffled. 
“No. That’s why I’m telling you. She’s after one thing.” 
“How would you know?”
“Come on,” Gemma scoffs. “She goes to a prestigious school with a cost that no one could afford. It’s clear she wants you to pay for it.” 
“Gemma, I met her during her last year.”
“Debt doesn’t go away overnight,” she fights back. “She’ll get you to pay off her loans and leave you.”
Harry’s anger is overwhelming him. 
“You don’t even know her. Yet you say bad things about her.” It shuts Gemma up, and he uses that to his advantage and walks away.
“We saw the donation you made,” Gemma comments before he can make it up the stairs. 
He turns back, trying his best to swallow down his anger. “If you would have asked me, you would know it’s for the music program. I did that for several universities if you would have taken the time to do a bit more research. It grants them a scholarship, plus pays for room and board.” 
Gemma has no response. Harry is now standing in front of her and Gemma is nervous. She had never seen her brother this upset. 
“What I do with my money is my problem. If she wanted me to send her money for a new car, I would. If she wanted me to buy her a piece of land, I would do it in a blink of an eye. If Y/N asked me to give her every last dime in my account, I would do it without a second thought because I love her. I love her and she loves me. You know, five minutes is not enough to judge her. I do not have to tell you of her financial issues, but I will so you can go home tonight and sleep knowing how upset I am with you. Y/N received the presidential scholarship covering her tuition for the three years she was there. Y/N has applied to hundreds of scholarships to cover her book fees, and has to take on an unpaid internship while working 40 hours a week to cover her rent. Y/N has not accepted a single dime from me for her school because she has gotten this far without me. Y/N only lets me pay for her seven dollar coffee every other day. Y/N would rather give every last dollar to me if I needed it instead of keeping it for herself. Y/N still sends money to her twin brothers for new shoes, or new backpacks, because she loves her family.” 
Harry is near tears but keeps going. “I love Y/N. You might not, maybe you never will, but that girl has been the best thing to happen to me. I’ve never been more cared for and loved since she entered my life. So please, don’t bother coming back tomorrow or the rest of the week unless you have an apology for her.”
Y/N is grateful Harry’s room connects to the bathroom because, while she finished getting ready, she thought she would ask Harry for a cup of water and instead stumbled upon a conversation she shouldn’t have. Y/N tries her best to swallow her tears, but it’s no use. They’re more powerful than her. They stream down and Y/N decides to lie in bed, hoping by the time Harry comes in, she’s fast asleep. Y/N isn’t sure how much time has passed, but her tears have dried up and she’s as still as a rock when she hears Harry come in. She wants to tell him that she’s not worth defending if it means he’s messing up his relationship with his sister.
She hears him get ready for bed. Y/N knows he’s folding his clothes and placing them on the chair. He’s meticulous about his night-time routine. He crawls into bed next to her. Y/N tries her best to steal her breathing to make it seem like she’s sleeping, but Harry knows her too well. He scoots right behind her, his hand sliding over her hips and settling on her stomach, right by the scar she got on her eight birthday when she fell off her bike. Harry rubs the lifted skin, where she got four stitches. 
Y/N lets out a deep breath, working up the courage to say something, but her throat is closed. She relaxes against him. All her tears dried up. She is beginning to feel better now that she’s with him. A kiss to her temple has her heart slowing down. This is what it is to be protected. 
“I’m sorry,” Y/N croaks out when she feels like enough time has passed. 
Harry pulls her tight against him. It fills her with ease. “How much did you hear?”
Y/N shakes her head. “I don’t want you to argue with your family.” 
“It’s only my sister,” he defends.
“She’s an important person in your life. You’ve always specified that.” 
Harry sighs. He leaves a kiss behind Y/N’s ear. “You are important to me, too.”
“You don’t need to be fighting. It’s not necessary.” 
“It is when she needs a wack to her head.” 
“Harry,” Y/N drags out. “I don’t want you burning bridges.”
Harry understood where she was coming from, but Y/N was not seeing how it affected him as well. “We’ll be fine. She’s my sister. We’ll talk in a few days. All this will be in the past.”
Y/N freezes, feeling as if someone dropped a cold bucket of water on her. If Harry believes everything will be alright with his sister, that means he sees himself forgiving her for what she said but also means he would be getting rid of the problem. Her. 
Harry was going to be breaking up with her. This started her tears to fall again, only this time she couldn’t keep quiet. They were pouring out of her at a quick rate. He was quick to sit up bringing Y/N with him.
“Hey, hey,” Harry cooed. “What happened? What did I do?”
“Y-y-you,” she stuttered. Nothing was coming out. 
He would not rush her. Instead, he shifted her to straddle his lap. Y/N tucked her head into his neck. Hary felt his neck dampen with tears. He pressed soft kisses to her hair, whispering “I love you,” hoping it would be enough to calm her. He snaked a hand under her night shirt softly running his nails up and down her back. Y/N curled in closer at the action. His sweet girl was feeling overwhelmed, and he felt awful because he wasn’t being helpful. 
Y/N pulled away. Her eyes were puffy and tears streaming down her cheeks. Harry still thought she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Her hands moved from her side up to his neck, she settled them on his cheek. She caressed his face, calming him down. He hadn’t realized how overwhelmed he was, but it’s clear Y/N could see what he needed even in her moments of sadness. 
“I don’t want to lose you,” Y/N voiced. “I love you. I love you so much.”
Harry frowned. No one had said anything about him leaving. He would never dream of walking away from her. “I’m not going anywhere.” 
“But Gemma–”
He cuts her off. “Gemma doesn’t know you like I do. She is looking out for me and I know she meant no harm, but she went about all this wrong. She decided to judge us, judge you before getting to know you.”
Y/N did no wrong. She was nothing Gemma accused her of. Y/N knew that, of course she did, but Y/N hoped to impress his family, not make them upset. 
“I know you, Lovie. My mum knows you. Mostly, you know yourself. Your character speaks for you and it has never been anything but kind and loving.”
Harry’s words slowly begin to mend her heart.
“I love you, Harry.” 
He connects his lips with hers in a loving kiss. “I love you so much.” 
Y/N falls asleep to Harry’s voice as he sings her to sleep. It’s a lullaby he says his mum would sing when he had a nightmare. While Y/N didn’t know how tomorrow would go, she was happy to have Harry at her side.
+
The morning passed slowly between the three of them. They shared stories with Anne, Harry, catching her up on his upcoming plans. Y/N talked about her looming graduation and told Anne about her thesis project. Anne promised to make the trip for her graduation, something Harry couldn’t stop gloating about how she was top of her class on her way to graduate summa cum laude. Y/N had stepped outside wanting to enjoy all the open land Anne had. The cats happily roamed around Y/N as she settled in the grass. Y/N thought of her dad at home and what he’d have to say about the situation. He’d probably tell her to run while she could, but Y/N knew Harry was her person. Y/N laid down, closed her eyes and took in all the surrounding noise. She heard birds chirping, a purring in the distance and the rush of the wind hitting the wind chimes. It was perfect. 
There was a loud band that had Y/N sitting up in a hurry. She looked back and realized it was the back door. Anne had stepped out, Y/N could see Harry in the kitchen, hands moving rapidly, and she knew he wasn’t alone. Anne sat not to Y/N, neither of them saying a word. 
“My daughter owes you an apology.” 
“Anne–” 
She stops Y/N. “No, I raised her better than that. I’m not sure when she got so protective, but it’s clearly not for the best. Harry is nearing 30 he doesn’t need his sister looking out for him. While I’m glad they have each other, this was unnecessary. It caused a lot of hurt that should have never existed.” 
“Thank you.”
“You don’t have to talk to her if you’re not comfortable.”
Y/N didn’t know how to feel. She dreaded talking to Gemma, but Y/N knew she’d feel worse if she went home and never talked this out with her. “I’m willing. I-I might need time to forgive her.” 
Anne squeezed Y/N’s hand. “That’s perfectly alright. Now tell me about these brothers of yours.” 
Y/N spent the rest of the evening with Anne, forgetting about her problems. It isn’t until Harry called them both in for dinner that they realized they spent hours outside. 
Harry greeted her with a kiss.
Dinner went off without a hitch, the three of them sharing all kinds of stories. Mostly Harry interrupting Anne to tell her a new story about Y/N he remembered. Harry that night promised he was alright with Gemma. He was feeling hurt. Assured her he loved her, but needed time to move past it. 
Y/N woke up early the next morning and decided to go on a walk along the river. Harry told her it felt never ending. They had walked it once every day, but today she went alone, letting Harry sleep in but also have that extra time with Anne. As Y/N walked, she thought of her brothers and how they would love to be throwing rocks in the river. Y/N was sure one of them would even fall in on accident. The weather would pique her dad’s interest. He was a sunshine man. She was sure the gloomy weather would be too much for him to handle. 
Two hours later, Y/N came back and was taken aback by Gemma’s presence on the front steps of the house, holding a thermal mug. 
“Hi,” Y/N greeted. 
“Morning, nice walk?” Gemma asked. 
Small talk. It was safe. “Mhm, Harry showed me the trail he liked to walk on.” 
“Mmm…coffee?” Gemma offered.
“Uh, I’m okay,” Y/N rejected.
Gemma looked dejected, but continued on. “Do-Is it okay if we talk?”
Y/N nodded. “Sure.” 
Y/N approached Gemma sitting on the opposite end of the same step. She wouldn’t be the first to talk, but it looked like Gemma was figuring out her words. 
“I’m sorry” are Gemma’s first words. “I’m sorry talking about you behind your back, even more sorry that you overheard.” Gemma looks sincere, and Y/N nods for her to continue. “I love Harry. He’s the best brother, and a person in general. He cares so much that I fear he’s gotten screwed over so much in life because he trusts with his heart and not his head.”
Y/N frowns, because that’s one of the things she loves most about Harry. How welcoming he is with his kind nature and how much love he spreads every day whether it’s through his music or holding the door open for a stranger. It all adds up to show that he’s a person full of love.
“Those are his mistakes to make. His own hurt to go through. Life isn’t all sunshine.” Y/N tells her. 
Gemma sighs heavily. “I know. Sometimes I feel like he’s still the same kid who cried when I would go out without him.”
“That hasn’t been him for a long time.” 
“I know.”
It’s clear Gemma has something deeper than she has to figure out and talk with Harry about, but it seems that’s a bridge she’ll cross when she is ready. 
“I love Harry. I think we have a wonderful relationship.” Y/N knows Gemma might not want to hear this, but it is important he does. “Harry loves communication. I swear we’ve never had an argument that didn’t end in us making up. He gives me my space but makes sure to be near. I’m reminded of his love every second of every day, whether he’s with me or not. I’m not sure if I make him feel loved every minute, but I do my best to remind him in my actions and words. I’m big on writing notes. He’s received a few love letters. I’m sure he’d show you if you asked.” Gemma tries her best to hide her surprise, but it’s written all over her face. “I’ve only heard wonderful stories about you, Gemma. I’m sure they’re all true, but I know Harry thought we might become friends.” Y/N pauses. “Even if that doesn’t happen, I do want you to know I respect you. For however long I’m around, I know that I respect you, even if it might take some time for me to trust you.” 
Gemma has tears running down her face. “I’m sorry. I never provided you with an opportunity. I’m not sure why I didn’t. I am really sorry. Meeting the family is always hard, and I fucking ruined it.” 
“It’s not okay, but we’ll give it time. Time heals.” 
“Thank you for hearing me out.” Gemma tells her gratefully. 
Y/N smiles. “Are you joining us for breakfast? Harry promised to make lemon ricotta pancakes.” 
“I’d like that. I’ll head in soon. I want to finish my coffee.” 
Y/N heads inside, where she finds Harry at the stove wearing an apron. She wraps her arms around his waist, resting her head between his shoulder blades. 
“Morning, pretty girl.” 
Gemma looked dejected, but continued on. “Do-Is it okay if we talk?”
Y/N nodded. “Sure.” 
Y/N approached Gemma sitting on the opposite end of the same step. She wouldn’t be the first to talk, but it looked like Gemma was figuring out her words. 
“I’m sorry” are Gemma’s first words. “I’m sorry talking about you behind your back, even more sorry that you overheard.” Gemma looks sincere, and Y/N nods for her to continue. “I love Harry. He’s the best brother, and a person in general. He cares so much that I fear he’s gotten screwed over so much in life because he trusts with his heart and not his head.”
Y/N frowns, because that’s one of the things she loves most about Harry. How welcoming he is with his kind nature and how much love he spreads every day whether it’s through his music or holding the door open for a stranger. It all adds up to show that he’s a person full of love.
“Those are his mistakes to make. His own hurt to go through. Life isn’t all sunshine.” Y/N tells her. 
Gemma sighs heavily. “I know. Sometimes I feel like he’s still the same kid who cried when I would go out without him.”
“That hasn’t been him for a long time.” 
“I know.”
It’s clear Gemma has something deeper than she has to figure out and talk with Harry about, but it seems that’s a bridge she’ll cross when she is ready. 
“I love Harry. I think we have a wonderful relationship.” Y/N knows Gemma might not want to hear this, but it is important he does. “Harry loves communication. I swear we’ve never had an argument that didn’t end in us making up. He gives me my space but makes sure to be near. I’m reminded of his love every second of every day, whether he’s with me or not. I’m not sure if I make him feel loved every minute, but I do my best to remind him in my actions and words. I’m big on writing notes. He’s received a few love letters. I’m sure he’d show you if you asked.” Gemma tries her best to hide her surprise, but it’s written all over her face. “I’ve only heard wonderful stories about you, Gemma. I’m sure they’re all true, but I know Harry thought we might become friends.” Y/N pauses. “Even if that doesn’t happen, I do want you to know I respect you. For however long I’m around, I know that I respect you, even if it might take some time for me to trust you.” 
Gemma has tears running down her face. “I’m sorry. I never provided you with an opportunity. I’m not sure why I didn’t. I am really sorry. Meeting the family is always hard, and I fucking ruined it.” 
“It’s not okay, but we’ll give it time. Time heals.” 
“Thank you for hearing me out.” Gemma tells her gratefully. 
Y/N smiles. “Are you joining us for breakfast? Harry promised to make lemon ricotta pancakes.” 
“I’d like that. I’ll head in soon. I want to finish my coffee.” 
Y/N heads inside, where she finds Harry at the stove wearing an apron. She wraps her arms around his waist, resting her head between his shoulder blades. 
“Morning, pretty girl.” 
“Hi, Harry. I love you.” 
Y/N knows he’s grinning. “I love you too. Even if you left me alone this morning.” 
“I couldn’t sleep,” she defends. “You always told me a morning walk here cleared your head.” 
“And did it?” 
“Mmm…like magic.” 
“Are you okay, Lovie?” Harry turns off the stove. He turns around, setting his hands on Y/N’s waist. His hair makes her laugh as she sees it sticking in different directions. 
“We talked. She apologized. Promise I’m okay. It still hurts, but I’ll try my best to forgive her for you.” 
Harry tuts his tongue. “No, honey.” Y/N tilts her head, confused. “You don’t have to do this for me.” 
“But she’s your–”
“She’s my sister, but that doesn’t mean you have to change how you feel about me. I promise I am with you. She made a mistake, and I’ll forgive her but at my own time. You take your time as well.”
Y/N feels overwhelmed all over again because she really did get lucky with Harry. “I love you so much.”
“I love you more, my love. So much more.” 
Harry gives her a kiss. A promise that everything will be alright.
+
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pitchsidestories · 2 months
Text
Secrets II Patri Guijarro x Reader
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masterlist I word count: 1877
a/n: inspired by this adorable request. Let us know what you thought of it. <3
Champions League nights were always something special. Especially when your team just secured their spot in the semi finals. You were still on the pitch, applauding the fans and taking in the amazing atmosphere while most of your team mates slowly retreated back into the dressing room.
The cool chill of the night send a shiver down your spine. You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to enjoy the moment and not think about anything else. But you could not stop yourself from glancing over to the other side of the pitch where Patri was doing her post-match interview.
You decided to go back and wait for her in the tunnel, in hopes that could spend a few minutes alone with her between leaving the pitch and entering the dressing room.
Patri smiled brightly as she saw you leaning on the wall.
“You love a champions league goal, don’t you, Patri?“, you smirked, hinting at the goal she scored shortly before the game ended.
She laughed: “I really do.“
You playfully pulled her closer to you, tugging on her sleeve: “That was admittedly kinda hot. Especially with the captains armband tonight.“
Your girlfriend winked: “Oh, you think so?“
“Yes, I do.“, you confirmed teasingly.
“Come here.“ Patri wrapped her arms around you.
You giggled: “What if someone sees us?“
The midfielder shrugged in the dim light: “It’s fine. We can go inside in a second.“
“Sure.“
“Come on.“, Patri said, now gently pushing you against the wall.
You raised your eyebrow: “A kiss from the goal scorer?“
Your girlfriend had the audacity to blush, making you want to kiss her even more. “Just a quick one, okay?“
“Okay.“, you agreed reluctantly.
Patris lips felt soft against yours. You wished you could stay in this moment for longer.
“My favourite secret.“, Patri winked at you when she pulled away.
You rolled your eyes and nodded into the direction of the dressing room: “I think our team is waiting for us.“
“Hey, what are you two waiting for?“, Marionas voice interrupted the two of you.
She stuck her head out of the dressing room. You looked for a sign in her face that would tell you if she had seen you. But you found nothing, so you innocently replied: “We’re coming. The captains interview took so long.“
Mariona shook her head as you walked past her into the dressing room.
“Once Patri’s talking, she can’t be stopped.“, Claudia snorted.
Patri grimaced: “Hey!“
“It’s true.“, you added casually, walking over to your locker.
“Rude.“, your girlfriend feigned outrage.
You were in the middle of pulling your shirt over your head when Ingrid turned to you: “Y/n?“
“Yes?“
“Why were you outside the whole time when you should have celebrated with us?“, the Norwegian asked.
You tilted your head: “Missed me?“
“Yes.“, she nodded.
“Don’t worry. I’m here now.“, you laughed.
Caroline joined the conversation: “Yeah. Now.“
Impatiently you asked your Norwegian team mates: “So what did I miss?“
“The usual chaos.”, the forward shrugged her shoulders.
Curious Ingrid looked at you:” You’ll join the team dinner tomorrow, right?”
“Yes, I’ll be there. What about you, Caro? Will you come too?”, you asked her with a teasing smile on your lips.
“I have no choice.”, she sighed, pointing into the direction where Marta was standing. The Norwegian midfielder and you found it adorable that the usual shy and reserved Caroline would literally say yes to everything her girlfriend was asking her to do even if it was team meetings she usually tried to avoid.
The location the club chose to have the team dinner at was beautiful. From where you and Patri were sitting you had the perfect view on the city’s pretty sight. Although you had to secretly admit that you spend more time-sharing stolen glances between you and your girlfriend when staring at the Catalonian scenery.
Your fellow teammates didn’t seem to notice that Patri was holding your hand hidden under the table:” The food is delicious, right?”
“It’s.”, you nodded.
Clearing her throat Ingrid tried to get your attention, she and Mapi were seated opposite of you:” Y/n, Mapi has found someone who could be a perfect fit for you.”
“You guys are trying to set me up again? Do I’ve to remind you what happened the last time?”, you gasped dramatically.
For a second the Spanish defender seemed guilty before returning to her usual self, sounding confidently:” Yeah, that didn’t work out well. But this time we’re sure that she’s perfect for you.”
“That’s sweet of you two but..”, you begun.
“This time it will go great. Just trust us.”, Mapi interrupted you quickly.
“Exactly.”, Ingrid continued in a reassuring tone.
Meanwhile Patri who listened the conversation quietly couldn’t watch it any longer and intervened frustrated: “Why are you even trying to set her up? I’m sure she could have anyone she wanted.”
“Patri.”, the defender rolled her eyes annoyed at her.
“What? Not everyone needs to be in a relationship.”, she countered.
“We only want the best for her.”, Mapi tried to reassure the Spanish midfielder.
“Pretty sure she knows that better than you.”, Patri grumbled.
Before your girlfriend was able to accidentally reveal your relationship, you asked your teammates in an overly cheerful tone:” What do you guys choose for dessert? I can’t decide.” 
“I’m taking the chocolate cake.”, the defender replied too surprised to ask why you changed the topic so suddenly.
You felt relived when you said:” Guess, I’ll pick that too.”
Later at your place, you could feel Patri was still tense from the talk you had with Ingrid and Mapi earlier, softly you lifted her chin, so she had to look into your eyes:” Patri? You know that I don’t want anyone else but you, right?”
“I do.”, your girlfriend hummed, pressing a kiss to your wrist.
“Good.”
“It’s just annoying.”, she added grumpily.
“I agree.”, you said to her while stroking her open hair gently.
Patri let out a sigh: “It’s okay.“
“I love you, Patri.“ You locked eyes with her until a small smile appeared on her face.
“I know. I love you too.“, she replied.
You smirked: “Oh, I know.“
Patri pulled you close to her: “I hope so!“
“Trust me.“
She tilted her head: “Maybe. I’ll have to think about it.“
“Excuse me?“, you asked, playfully pushing her away from you.
You girlfriend shrugged: “You might go on that set-up date.“
“No, I won’t.“, you laughed.
“Are you sure?“, Patri curiously raised her eyebrow.
You nodded firmly: “Very sure.“
“Reassuring.“, she commented before kissing you quickly.
“See?“
“Yeah, sure.“, Patri just said, too distracted by you to continue the conversation.
When you met the rest of the team for training the next morning, Ingrid was in a great mood. She was beaming as she walked on to the training pitch: “What a beautiful day for training.“
“Oh yes, the sun is so nice.“, you agreed, turning towards the sunlight and closing your eyes to soak up the Vitamin D.
Caroline shrugged: “Yeah, could be worse.“
You opened your eyes again, grinning at your team mate: “There is our grumpy sunshine.“
“Ugh.“, she groaned in response, obviously not a fan of your nickname for her.
“Come on, Caro.“, you tried to motivate her and played a ball in her direction for the next exercises.
“No.“, Caroline rolled her eyes in response but still continued the pass the ball.
You were right in the middle of a scrimmage, trying to win the ball back from Keira when you felt a sharp pain in your knee. Immediately, your leg gave out and you found yourself on the grass, holding your knee.
“No!“, Ingrid gasped.
You were too focused on trying to calm your breathing and to stop your thoughts from racing to notice that your team mates gathered around you.
“Y/n!“, Patri yelled and was quickly kneeling by your side.
Caroline looked down at you, worry reflecting in her eyes: “Are you okay?“
“No… it hurts.“, you cried breathlessly.
“Shit!“, you heard Patri curse under her breath next to you while she gently stroked your hair.
“She’s going to be okay…“, Ingrid tried to stay cheerful but the tone of her voice was not convincing.
You carefully tried to sit up and extend your knee but the pain was still there. You flinched.
Patri squeezed your hand tightly: “Love, don’t move. I’m here.“
You tried to focus on your girlfriends touch, you even failed to notice what she said.
Mapi and Claudia exchanged surprised looks: “Love?!“
“I knew it.”, Caroline exclaimed.
“What?”, Ingrid turned to the fellow Norwegian, looking shocked.
Serious the forward stated: “It isn’t that surprising.”
“Right, not when one thinks about it for a bit longer.”, the midfielder agreed after a short moment, playing the recent encounters between you and your girlfriend inside her head, seeing now all the little clues which showed that you were more than just friends.
Much later you were resting your leg on the sofa, looking up to Patri :” The doctor said that I’ll be out for a few weeks.”
“A few weeks?”, she lifted an eyebrow in response.
“Yes.”
A relived sigh escaped the Spanish midfielder’s lips:” Okay, that’s better than what I expected.”
“Sorry, it felt worse than it was.”, you apologized to her, feeling your cheeks turn hot.
She happily told you:” Hey, don’t worry about that. I’m just glad to share the pitch with you in a few weeks.”
“Maybe just in time for the champions league finale. Wait, are those sunflowers, how did you know that they are my favourite.”, you glanced at your girlfriend in awe.
“Oh please. I know what your favourite flowers are by now.” , Patri chuckled.
“Thank you.”, you whispered gratefully as the Spanish woman gave you your flowers.
She softly pressed a kiss on the top of your head: “You’re welcome, love.”  
“Caro claims that she knew about us the whole time.”, you told her grinning.
“I don’t believe that we were so careful”, the Spanish player shook her head laughing.
You agreed with her:” That’s true except for today.”
“Yeah, I guess they all know now.”, Patri nervously went through her hair with one hand.
“It’s okay.”, you reassured her.
In an earnest tone the midfielder thought out loud:” Maybe it was time to tell them anyway.”
With a crooked smile on her face, she added:” They’ll never shut up about it, right?”
“Never.”, you smirked at her.
“Do you think we’ll survive?”, the Spanish woman asked you half seriously and half half-jokingly.
“Yeah, if the other couples in the team can do it so can we.”, you concluded.
“But first, you have to make sure that your knee heals properly.”, Patri reminded you.
“I’ve the best nurse right here.”, you winked at her cheekily.
“Don’t worry. I will take care of you.”, your girlfriend promised you earnestly and the midfielder meant every word she said. Carefully she put the sunflowers into a vase and placed them on the table in the living room.
Secretly Patri hoped that your favourite flowers would remind you during the tough rehab days which were laying ahead of you that after rain the sun would always return, no matter how worse the weather seemed.
489 notes · View notes
noradegrantz · 1 month
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Boarding School
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Teacher! Anakin x fem! reader
౨ৎ⋆˚。⋆
warnings: sexual content, implied smut, age gap, fingering, sex, teacher-student relationship
The reader is 18+ in the fic!!
˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
this fanfic is inspired by Lana Del Rey’s unreleased song “Boarding School”
please excuse any typos you might see :,)
I really hope that y’all will enjoy this <3
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
You recently found out that you were going to a new boarding school.
Your parents sent you off to a new one since in your previous school, you had problems with some girls. You didn’t really wanna to go to a new school since you have kind of settled in in your old one, but you didn’t have a choice.
It was your first day in the new boarding school. An only-girls school. The moment you stepped in some teachers showed you your new room and you had to share it with another girl. It was pink and baby blue. Your bed had some bows around it and overall it was a really pretty room. After settling in you decided to go check out the rest of the school. Since it was the first day and there were no lessons today.
You were wearing your school uniform, a white shirt, a red tie, a pair of white thigh socks, black shoes and your red pleaded skirt. You look so pretty. You start walking around the corridors of the school, checking out the new classrooms and everything. You were not watching where you were going at some point when all of a sudden you accidentally fell onto someone. You looked up to the person. It was a teacher. You embarrassedly looked up to him and started apologising.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, sir, I was not watching where I
was going..!”
You really felt embarrassed after this…
He warmly smiled and looked down to you.
“Oh, don’t even worry about it, it’s fine!”
You were so embarrassed and looked down,
then he said
“Are you a new student? It’s the first day of school today and I haven’t seen you before here.”
You looked up to him and smiled
“Yes! I am a new student! I just came this morning. My name is y/n..”
“What a nice name…”
he replied.
“Have they assigned you with a class? I think it’s on the papers that they gave you when you arrived here this morning.”
Your eyes widen, realising that you do not know in which class you actually are.
“Oh, I forgot to actually check it… silly me..”
You say and laugh awkwardly.
“Well, I’d suggest that you actually go check it out because the lessons start tomorrow and I don’t think that you would like to lose one of your classes right?”
He says and winks at you.
You instantly blush..
He’s a teacher, and he’s already making you feel so…so.. hot..? You couldn’t explain it, but you were feeling things.
You give him a smile and walk back to your room.
The next day you wake up and check out in which class you are. The papers say C1.
You get dressed, eat breakfast and fix your schoolbag. Then you head out to your lesson.
You walk in the class and sit in the front seat. After a while you hear the door of the classroom open and your new teacher walks in. It’s the same teachers from the corridors yesterday. The moment this happens is when you realise that he never actually told you his name.
Then, he sits in front of everyone in the class and says
“Good morning everyone, I’ll be your new philosophy teacher for the year.. I am Anakin Skywalker, but you can call me Mr Skywalker. I also do tutoring lessons in case everyone has problems with philosophy, so could you always can count on me.”
he says and smiles. I look up to him and smile too. He notices me and winks playfully. I feel a wave of amusement and embarrassment wash over me. He’s my teacher and feel like that about him, but he’s already so nice to me and sweet, you said to yourself.
Days pass pretty fast. You’ve started your school year in a really good mood. You love your new philosophy teacher more than any other teachers. Whenever you see him, you talk to him and you guys have really good conversations. One day decide to finally take the step and ask him if he can tutor you.
After class, you walked up to him.
“Excuse me Mr Skywalker….from what I remember on our first lesson you said to us and we can ask you for help with tutoring.. I’ve been wanting to ask you for awhile about it, but I was just too shy I guess..”
You say, and laugh anxiously.
He gave you a warm smile and replied
“Of course…plus you are the only student who actually asked for me to tutor them, so whenever you feel like it let me know.We can arrange the days and all.. oh and I have some free time right now. We could sit here, on this class, if you would like me to help you out with anything hmm?”
you smiled in excitement.
“Oh yes absolutely! I do have some free time right now… and I would love it if you could help me right now..”
You said and giggled.
You guys start studying together. He’s a really good tutor. Without realising it, hours have passed..
Anakin takes off his glasses and smiles, while looking at you.
“I don’t get why you want me to tutor you… you are so good..”
He smiled once again.
You put a strand of your hair behind your ear and reply to him.
“Honestly…sir… I don’t really feel like it.. I mean I do try my best, but it feels like I need more help.. but I really appreciate the way you speak to me and the way you help me with anything… thank you sir”
He’s sitting right next to you with his hand on the desk while looking at you.. you guys are so close.. your lips are so close to each other..
just as you guys are so close to kissing he moves a bit away..
“The time has passed fast huh..? Perhaps you better if you went back to your dorm doll.. it’s getting late..”
you smile, awkwardly and reply
“Oh yes sir, you’re absolutely right… I will head back to my dorm.. and thank you… for today.. I’d like to do that more often..”
You leave the classroom.
After an while you’re back in your dorm.
You sit by the window and check out the view outside of the building. As you check out the trees, you watch your teacher under a tree, smoking a cigarette. You keep looking at him. And that is the moment you realise that you actually feel much more things about your teacher… you start noticing how hot he is when he smoking… the way he pushes his hair back, out of his face… the way he fixes his glasses.. it’s all so..attractive…
You didn’t care that you felt like that in the first place, you just wanted him.. so bad..
Days pass once again. He keeps on tutoring you. You guys get much closer than expected.
You are talking about more personal matters which leads both of you into realising that you are actually much similar than you thought..
The following week, you two decided to have a lesson much later that day. When nobody was walking around the classrooms and you had more privacy.
After an hour into the lesson, you guys are so close again…this time you felt like you needed to do that… you couldn’t resist, and as your lips were so close…You just leaned closer and kissed him..
He did not break the kiss. Instead, he put his hands on your waist as you were sitting in the chair and kissed you more. Then he set you on the desk and kept kissing you as his hands traveled around your body.
“I’ve been wanting this for so long doll… I’ve been wanting you for so long…”
He exclaims.
You couldn’t believe it.
You wanted him in the exact same way.
You stop the kiss and look up to him once again
“I’ve been wanting that too.. I want you here..right now, take me here..!”
You exclaimed. He smirked and laughed quietly.
Adrenaline washed over you.
He lifted your skirt as you were laying on the desk. Then he moved your panties to the side.
“And those pretty pink panties that you are wearing… such a shame that they are gonna be ruined by me baby..”
he starts fingering you
You keep moaning with your hand covering your mouth. Trying to be as quiet as possible..
After a while of prepping you.. he enters you.
He moves slowly.
“Baby? I’m gonna try to be gentle, okay? Tell me if anything hurts, hmm?”
you shake your head and smile warmly.
You spent the whole night getting pounded on a desk by your philosophy teacher.
After you guys finished, Anakin kissed your cheek and smiled
“You did so good for me doll..”
Turns out that the boarding school will be fun <3
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shunsuiken · 9 months
Text
HOW THE GENSHIN MEN FIND YOU DRUNK
pairing(s). kaeya, diluc, zhongli, childe, ayato, thoma, tighnari, kaveh, wanderer x gn!reader
genre. fluff + mentions of alcohol use ofc + reader is a lightweight (welcome to my life guys <3)
wc. 400-800 for each character
an. SOOOOO this was inspired by a cdrama i watched back in 2021 and when i saw it i just HAD to write about it <3 also i think i had a bit too much fun on zhongli’s and childe’s i hope its not so obvious dear god. also??? for some reason the ones i had the hardest time writing for ended up being the longer parts omg
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kaeya alberich
after spending some time upstairs with a couple of treasure hoarders who were completely unaware of being thoroughly deceived by the cunning cavalry captain, kaeya decides to head down and run over the knowledge he collected with mond’s famed beverage, death after noon.
but as he walks down the staircase, he spots a familiar figure sitting by the bar. he squints his eye slightly, almost not believing the sight in front of him. is that y/n? on the high stool by the bar? dozing off to only a few shots of liquor? tonight just became even more interesting. now he’s starting to wonder what things you would say under the influence—for no shady reasons, obviously, as he genuinely enjoyed your company and witiful mouth. he’s just a curious man with the goal of unveiling a few other things about you.
he makes a beeline to the bar, setting himself on your right side so you’re in his line of vision. glancing around, he motions for charles for his death after noon. kaeya only turns to you once his drink arrives, quickly giving you a once over. seeing as how it looked like you came to angel’s share after work he might as well stir up a conversation.
your vision is blurry but you can definitely feel the presence of another person beside you. as you lift your head from your crossed arms, your brows crease in irritation. which imbecile decided to disturb your time alone? you’re literally brooding over the fact that captain kaeya would never be yours, so you irresponsibly decided an hour ago that some liquor would magically help you forget your worries.
you’re ready to scare the person off with a glare but what you’re met with is quite literally, much worse (because your glares don’t work on him and also because he's part of the reason you’re in your drunken state).
kaeya chuckles at your expression. “why the long face? it’s just me.”
you rub your eyes, groaning from the bitterness lingering in your throat. of all people, you weren’t expecting him. “you never stop by on wednesday’s. is something up?” you ask drowsily as kaeya watches you pick up your glass, clumsily squinting at the bottom of it to see if there was any more of your liquor left.
kaeya dodges your question, humming, “y/n sweetheart, you look like you’re on the brink of passing out.” he tilts his head, observing your flushed expression. if you can’t handle your liquor, he doesn’t mind taking you back home if it means securing your safety.
“am not,” you reply, turning your gaze to him. it’s all thanks to the alcohol that you can do so when in reality you actually struggle to maintain eye contact with him. “you… you haven’t answered my question yet. why’re you here?” your voice is hoarse and you’ve made enough voice cracks to entertain a crowd, but kaeya finds it rather endearing instead.
kaeya could reply honestly. but this conversation is one to be forgotten after you woke up tomorrow morning. he could lie and you would never know he did, but for a reason unknown the lie he was supposed to tell never left his lips. instead he blurts out the plain truth.
“somebody has to be responsible for you, y’know,” kaeya teases you with a grin but his actions are the opposite of his tone. he stands from his seat, pulling your arm over his shoulders to support your weight even when you attempt to resist his help. he keeps your body close to his so you don’t fall over. hopefully you’re drunk enough to be oblivious of the erratic beats of his heart alongside the cautious and warm touch of his hand on your waist.
diluc ragnvindr
he still can’t believe he has such a massive crush on you. it’s almost embarrassing to let others know about this secret because nobody would expect someone like diluc to have a thing for you. it’s even harder to hide that fact when you’re sitting at a table with venti and kaeya. they’re laughing their asses off at some joke you told them.
“cheers to y/n!” venti hollers, cheeks undeniably pink. “you are paying for this, right?” he leans back down momentarily, making you release another burst of laughter from your lungs at the way he mentioned it. “of course!”
after chatting, you decide to greet the man of the house by the bar. it’s been a while since you’ve seen the master diluc of dawn winery anyway. as you get up from the table to make your way over, you accidentally bump into a crowd of big, brawny adventurers who’ve just arrived.
“oh—!” tripping backwards, your hands fail to find something to keep yourself on your feet before your fall is cushioned by someone.
they hold onto your shoulder as your back collides with their chest. the force from being pushed aside has you breathing unsteadily, and it doesn’t help that you’re pretty tipsy right now too. however, despite how tipsy you are, you feel as though air is sucked right out of your lungs when you spot a tuft of crimson red hair from the corner of your eye.
you stand right up immediately, facing the person you fell onto.
“master diluc!” the dazed and naive look on a drunkard's face normally doesn’t appeal to diluc but this expression on yours actually makes you look rather adorable. your eyes are half-lidded and your smile is lopsided, and oh if he could squish those cheeks of yours-
“uh, master diluc?” you blink, toning your voice down a bit.
“oh.” diluc slides out of his mindscape, paying attention to your words. “yes? would you like a drink on the house?” because if you actually asked that, he would have sent one your way on the spot.
you wave your hands dismissively. “n- no no, not that! i was just asking how you were doing. you haven’t stopped by angel’s share since last month, i thought something was up so when i heard you were here today i…” you trail off, realising that you’re rambling and that diluc probably didn’t want to be greeted like this after taking a month off but when you look back at him, he’s still looking at you (and has been since you fell into his arms).
diluc raises his brow when he no longer hears your voice. but when he sees an expectant look in your eyes, he offers you his arm with a smile. “how about you tell me everything by the bar? that way i can serve you properly.”
your cheeks burn like a wild bonfire as you take his arm, now struggling to find excuses to somehow change the topic of conversation because if you continued your sentence from a minute ago, you would have exposed your secret attraction for the man in front of you.
(funny how you don’t even need kaeya or venti to expose you, you’re already the man for the job!)
diluc senses your sudden nervousness at the invitation. he does his best to bite away at the fond smile making its way to his lips. if he can help calm your nerves then maybe you’ll tell him about how much you missed his company at the tavern.
zhongli
zhongli didn’t know that his late night stroll around the streets of chihu rock would include witnessing your drunk state at third-round knockout. the streets have thinned out and it’s rather late too. he wonders what brought you over to the distinguished tavern.
the curious adeptus makes silent haste to peer over your shoulder. a cup in your hand and your head is lolling over. putting two and two together, you must have had your fill of alcohol for tonight.
zhongli finds himself chuckling before neatly folding his hands behind his back. “i wonder how y/n is faring on this wonderful night?”
your head snaps out of your drunken state momentarily, the coherent cells in your brain recognise that voice immediately but your vision is blurry. so instead of being able to greet the gentleman with dignity and grace, you end up tripping over the levelled bricks below you. 
“oh—!”
zhongli is quick to open his arms and catch you, his reflexes still polished despite his retirement as the geo archon. your head bumps into his chest as you grunt at the slight fright. and after regaining your foothold on the bricked ground, it comes to your attention that your body is flat against the man in front of you. more specifically, his arms are wrapped around your waist to keep you steady and your hands are fumbling awkwardly in the air because you don’t know where to put them.
looking up to meet zhongli’s eyes is exactly what you expected but you can never maintain eye contact with him. it’s not your fault he’s so handsome! his kind gesture makes your cheeks warm up, and he probably doesn’t even mean anything out of it but sometimes your mind likes to be a little creative and indulges you in a variety of impossible scenarios.
“archons, zhongli i’m sorry—i didn’t see you i—” 
“it’s not a problem, y/n. shall i walk you home?” zhongli offers, voice gentle and non-judgemental, like you didn’t just trip over a couple of bricks.
you shake your head, earning a raised brow from him. “i only live a few minutes away. plus, look at the time, we’ll look weird.”
“holding you in my arms will not make us look weird, rather i believe this is appropriate for us both. don’t you think?” the way zhongli tilts his head to the dominating tone in his voice makes you feel so small.
“i mean—sure but,” you reply, not daring to look directly into his eyes unless you were going to expose your hidden feelings for him. “but i’m drunk. it’s my fault, i can take myself ho—” your words are caught in your throat when zhongli lifts you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style down the steps and continuing down the street to bring you home.
this extra pinch of boldness is something that lays dormant within zhongli. but it always comes alive when you’re around. he has spent enough time around mortals to pick up the signs of the heart. your reactions to his touch, your flickering gaze and the heat from your face is no brainer. however, he will have to properly communicate with you when you’re sober.
for now, he only hopes that you will disregard the warmth radiating off his neck when you lean in to rest your forehead there.
childe
he’s dancing. dancing to his heart’s content. the band plays the second to last song but the harbinger barely feels like he’s lived up to the heights of the night. he requires more vigour, more energy from his dancing partners. sure, they were all wonderful dancers but he’s really only waiting for someone else to enter his field of vision.
childe knows you’re around here somewhere, you told him personally a week before the ball that you and your father were invited. after all, only the most distinguished noblemen and women were eligible to attend. and you, being the one and only child of one of the leading snezhnayan trade merchants, are an obvious guest on the list of invites.
childe dances, switching and gliding between different and eager dance partners, secretly hoping that the next gloved hand he would take would be yours. unfortunately, for the second to last song, he still doesn’t manage to find you amongst the crowd of participants dancing. so when the music stops he makes sure to return everyone a wave and entertain those who greet him warmly, doing everything in his power to stop the itch of impatience showing on his sweaty face. thankfully, he manages to maintain a calm and composed expression.
childe’s head perks up to a certain sound. amongst the music, the cheers and the clings of wine glasses he recognises a laugh. a laugh, to the extent of his knowledge, only he’s able to get out of you. he brings his wine glass away from his lips, licking the remnants of it from his bottom lip as he captures the sight of you chatting away with other guests.
scanning the guests’ faces, he concludes that they’re harmless thanks to information he was told prior to the event. so he makes his way over, smoothly including himself in conversation just to make an excuse to the other guests to ‘borrow your attention’ for a moment.
you take his arm that he offers you, holding your wine glass in your other hand. childe has always been a gentleman towards you, such a passionate person with excellent manners. you’re almost always guaranteed to have a grand time whenever he invites you out (obviously as friends, which you two have made known to the entire town).
“so ajax, tell me about your journey to liyue—” your throat interrupts your speech with a very clear hiccup. “—harbour.” your cheeks burn, quickly apologising for your lack of manners under your breath.
childe hums, loving how you used the name he told you to use when it’s just you and him. “your grace, are you drunk?” he gazes at your flushed face and how your styled hair looks more undone. he thinks you look better this way actually.
“i might be,” you sigh, wanting to hand your glass over to a butler but childe stops you before you can, taking your glass to quickly down the last sips of your beverage.
“ajax, what are you doing?!” you tap his arm repeatedly with concern, telling him to slow down.
you just got that glass a few minutes ago! but besides that, he’s drinking the wine you just had?! what if his lips touch the part yours did on the glass? not that you mind at all—you wouldn’t dare say that out loud but your thoughts are as clear as day on your expression.
childe enjoys the look on your face, satisfied and relieved that you didn’t show a hint of dissatisfaction. “i’ve not had the honour to dance with you tonight.” he passes the empty glass onto a passing butler’s tray. “shall i have the pleasure now?”
kamisato ayato
by this time in the evening, you, thoma and ayaka are probably done playing the hot pot game. which is alright since ayato knew he would return home from business later than usual tonight, but that doesn’t stop him from checking up on all of you. so when he slides the door open to see his faithful retainer, his sister and you sleeping soundly in the designated hot pot room at komore teahouse, the lord cannot help but stifle a fond laugh.
it then comes to his attention that the room reeks of alcohol. oh dear. that explains why everyone’s blacked out.
“‘yato?” he watches you lift your head from the table. ah, you’re still awake… and definitely drunk. no wonder you dropped the formalities all of a sudden. if you were sober you would have rushed to greet him by the door and refer to him by “my lord” despite all the protests he’s made to call you by his first name instead.
ayato hushes you gently, ignoring how his heart skips a beat at the mention of his first name leaving your lips and sits himself beside you. he’s almost taken aback by how you immediately lean onto his body for support. he knew you were an affectionate person but you normally asked before proceeding with anything just in case he felt uncomfortable (surprise! he never did). so seeing this side of you is rather refreshing to his eyes.
“what’re you doing here?” you blink hardly at him but it’s to no avail as the alcohol in your veins distorts your vision.
he brings you closer, gloved hand rising to caress the back of your head. “i just came to visit. however, it didn’t occur to me that you would all have so much fun without my presence.” 
“nonsense!” you claim dramatically, a satisfied smile immediately appearing on ayato’s face at your predictable reaction.
you poke his arm you don’t realise is already sat on your waist. you’re too ready to defend your lord from his own words to notice anyway.
ayato scans your face. lavender eyes find your plumped lips, the thin sheen of sweat along your cheeks and your hair attempting to escape the confines of your hairpin—hold on a moment, he got you that hairpin!
the way ayato has to physically restrain a grin from showing on his face is uncharacteristic of him. he’s noticed that he uncovers new parts of himself whenever you’re beside him. such an interesting person you are…
“we were waiting for you—hic—however, we got a little distracted.” you admit, gesturing at ayaka who sleeps soundly on thoma’s jacket. you look up at ayato through your eyelashes, giving him a lopsided smile.
“i remembered your—hic—advice when you said ayaka can’t drink more than a glass. she might even have it worse than me. but thoma, on the other hand, was a completely different story. that man was a mess!” you move your head to look at thoma’s body sprawled over the floor, ugly giggles leaving the back of your throat at how much of an idiot he looks like right now.
your hair tickles ayato’s chin but he pays no mind to it when he’s so immensely amused by your relaxed nature when drunk.
thoma
thoma mentally checks his list of things to do before retiring for the night. his lord is in his office, accompanied by a freshly made pot of tea, his lady should already be sound asleep and the other retainers are also readying to retire too. he sighs to himself, patting his jacket down as he heads to the kitchen to finalise his cleaning.
when he enters the kitchen, he is baffled at the sight in front of him. he stares blankly for a moment to process it.
there’s remnants of sake dripping out of a tipped-over tokkuri and his lover who plays with the o-choko absentmindedly with their finger, drawing invisible lines along the rim. thoma stifles a giggle, a curled finger covering his lips.
his giggle sends your consciousness back into focus. you only have the power to tilt your head ever so slightly to the right, your movements pausing on the o-choko when your gaze falls upon the view of your lover.
“tho—ma,” your cracked voice calls for him, making him rush toward you in such fondness so he could pinch your cheeks.
“oh, y/n, what are you doing?” thoma asks as giggles leave his lips, watching you squint at him dazedly. “it’s dripping from the corner of your lips as well!” he takes a napkin, sitting next to you to wipe it away gently.
“wh- where’ve you been, pretty?” your words are slurred but thoma hears you perfectly well.
the pet name makes him blush, but you’re too drunk to notice. “i’ve been doing my job—oh, honey—” he huffs when he brings you to lean on him instead. the longer you lay your head on the table, the more you’ll want to throw up later (and thoma makes sure to prevent that from happening).
you giggle at the little voice crack you hear when he calls you by your pet name, leaning onto his chest as your head rests on his shoulder blade. taking advantage of this position, thoma presses a cool ceramic cup filled with water by your lips and when you lazily open your eyes, you see that it’s the glass that’s been sitting on the side from earlier.
“drink up, honey.” you can’t refuse such a request when it’s mumbled so affectionately by your ear. you’re probably even warm at your cheeks from it, but then again, the sake has kept your cheeks warm for a while. you can’t even tell anymore.
after taking a few sips of water, your throat feels fresh and renewed—if thoma heard your thoughts, he would deadpan at you and say “y/n. it’s called getting hydrated” in a sassy little voice. this scenario amuses you and it causes a small laugh to leave your lips.
above you, thoma is confused. “what are you thinking about?” he asks curiously with a smile.
as you rest your head on thoma’s shoulder again, you reply, “you. i’m just thinking about you.”
tighnari
a shout from outside tighnari’s lodging brings his attention away from his documents, brows furrowing and pushing himself up from his chair to see why his forest rangers are making such a fuss at an ungodly hour (yes, tighnari was awake at said ungodly hour but that wasn’t because he was with his fellow rangers after a night out!).
“tighnari, we’re back!” a drunk forest watcher waves and yells at the figure of tighnari, who has his arms crossed in front of him.
a sigh leaves tighnari’s mouth, one of exhaustion, to be precise. “do you intend to wake all of gandharva ville up? go find yourselves home and rest.” he turns around to head back inside until another forest watcher pipes up.
“wait, tighnari! y/n’s black out drunk!” a female forest watcher, who’s eyes can’t even look at a single point any longer due to the alcohol running in her veins, displays your figure with your arm dangling over her shoulders. “you need to take them back, i don’t know where they live!”
tighnari raises a brow and chuckles, shaking his head. “yet you’re sober enough to tell me this.” he walks towards the group of drunkards and collects you easily from the forest watcher, carefully placing your arm over his shoulders while his other hand holds your hip.
you barely know where you are and what’s happening but it appears that your assigned guardian angel for the night has retired and put you in more capable hands—or, arms. you blink in an attempt to gather knowledge of your surroundings but it’s to no avail when everything is a blur of darkness with hints of warm light from the dew lights.
a grunt escapes your lips in slight frustration as you walk away with this other person, but they’re quick to hush you gently and in a soft voice you hear, “i promise we’re almost there, just walk with me, okay?”
“yeah, okay,” you reply promptly but to tighnari’s ears, he’s never heard such a tone in your voice ever since you were recruited. his heart skips a beat and his ear twitches along. it’s rare to see you so vulnerable and he can tell you have no idea that he’s the one carrying you back to… well, his lodging. because your lodging is simply too far away (it’s only a bridge away) and he can’t have you walking any longer when you look like you’re on the verge of passing out! 
he doesn’t know what’s gotten into him when his gloved hand holds onto your forearm to keep your body steady against his as he walks you to his lodging. his body is going against him and his heart can only take the blame for such ridiculous delusions. what does he think he will get out of this?
he’s just your chief forest watcher, that’s all he will ever be to you—is what tighnari thinks. but in reality, you only went out with the others to spiral in alcohol due to your failed attempts of romancing your handsome superior. it seemed that the sumeru roses and the letter you left at his doorstep were blown away by the wind (you had to commit blasphemy on that day and curse the anemo archon), the pita pockets you made for him were stolen away by some petty treasure hoarders when you weren’t looking and overall, your thoughts were a mess thinking about your failed attempts. it was like your beloved archon forgot to bless you with wisdom to avoid these situations.
“see! i told you he had a soft spot for them!”
“it’s so obvious the feelings mutual, i can’t believe they didn’t believe us.”
“they’re literally the only one who can’t see it!”
tighnari clears his throat loud enough for the group to hear him. he turns around and gives them a pointed look until they’re all skipping away to their respective lodgings.
he glances at your drunken face for a brief moment and smiles to himself, continuing to walk you back.
it appears that all his worries were meaningless.
kaveh
the sight of you leaning against the door to his home almost makes his soul fly right out of his body.
“hello y/n, i thought we were meeting for dinner?” but when kaveh finally makes it to where you are, you are nowhere near sober. no wonder your figure was leaning against the wood so flimsily. you were akin to a ragdoll at this point. “great heavens, is the end of the world upon us? why are you drunk before me?” he hesitantly collects you in his arms while mehrak hovers beside him. he can’t have you just leaning like that!
“went to… birthday party… drinks…”
that’s enough information to bring kaveh up to speed with the situation. but also… why did you decide to go to his house?! was it instinctive?
kaveh cringes at his thoughts and opens the door with his free hand while his other hand supports you by your waist (he can feel his palm warming up to the touch on your body and it’s making the poor man sweat). “come on in, let’s sober you up.” 
when you’re sat nicely on the couch, your eyes are still closed with zero awareness of your surroundings. how your head suddenly tilts backwards at such speed almost brings the most horrific yelp out of kaveh, he’s relieved to know his reflexes are still sharp enough to have caught your head before it snapped right off your neck.
“archons, you’re going to give me a heart attack!” he holds the back of your head and somehow manages to bring your body to lean against the spine of the couch. he doesn’t forget to put a pillow behind your back either, because you being drunk doesn’t mean you’re drunk enough to not feel discomfort.
after collecting himself from that scare, he returns with a cup of water, hands carefully hovering it in front of your lips. “here, drink up,” he says but you keep moving your mouth away from the cup that it’s slowly beginning to irritate him.
“y/n, you need to sober up if you’re going to walk home later,” he tells you in a more serious voice which makes you groan, throwing your head forward into your hands.
“you don’t understand.”
“what don’t i understand?”
what am i doing here? i swear i was in front of my friend's place… how is it that my drunk feet led me here? out of all the places on this continent, why did i take myself to the one place i’m trying to avoid?!
kaveh raises a brow and puts down the glass of water. “is something wrong, y/n? i haven’t even seen you since last week.”
“i’ve been… busy…” trying to keep my feelings at bay!
“i see,” kaveh responds before adding, “do you still feel drunk?”
“i wouldn’t say i’m drunk to the point of passing out—i did feel like that earlier but now that i’m sitting i can at least participate in conversation.” you remove your face from your hands.
why is his face so pink? you think to yourself, grabbing the glass of water from the table to take a sip before leaning back with your free arm supporting you. you grin to yourself, feeling a little cheeky.
you offer the glass of water you just drank from to kaveh, hovering it in front of his lips and you swear you almost watch his eyes fall out of their eye sockets.
“what—what are you doing?!” kaveh’s voice shakes and you let out this cute drunken giggle that makes his heart leap. 
“i know i’m the one drunk, but for some reason you look drunk without even having drinks!”
kaveh touches his face and he purses his lips. his cheeks are so used to being hot from being in your presence that he didn’t even realise!
“allow me to assist you.” you lean your body a little closer so you can press the chilled glass of water against kaveh’s cheek.
his bottom lip falls and quivers when you lean closer towards him. last time you were this close, you were putting medication on his face after a run in with fungi.
the coldness of the glass somehow gives him time to think to himself—rationally. maybe in this moment right now he could…
“thank you, y/n.” you’ve never heard this tone in kaveh’s voice, it’s unfamiliar and so… tender. what he does next makes you finally meet his scarlet eyes.
a warm hand wraps around your wrist that holds the glass to his cheeks, your skin immediately lights up in fire at the contact. it makes you gulp so embarrassingly loudly before him.
he leans into the coolness of the glass, gazing at you with such gentle eyes that it’s tempting you to look away. as his thumb gently caresses your skin, he smiles. “it helps.”
wanderer
wanderer returns to his home a little later than usual tonight. he made sure to leave a note on the dining table to let you know of his whereabouts for the day. he knows you have the propensity to worry about him, despite his claims that he’ll be perfectly fine because of how well-versed he is in the arts of defence (and nasty attacks). which is why he left the note on the table, and he acknowledges how it was moved to another spot on the table from this morning.
you’ve seen it. he thinks to himself and now he wonders where you are. you’re not normally out at this time and from your cute daily schedule reports you tell him before bed, he doesn’t remember you mentioning that you would be out until this time. or if you were going out with friends.
that’s alright. wanderer can wait.
the tapping of his own foot is driving the man on edge. it’s been two whole hours—the sun is far beneath the horizon and the birds are already snoring. where the hell are you? wanderer cannot do this anymore, he rises from his seat and takes flight with his anemo abilities.
the city is rather easy to navigate at this height. in the dark, the city is at least still lit up by streetlights and with the help of one nearby lambad’s tavern, he spots your curled figure sitting on the floor very easily.
he hovers over the cement before landing smoothly on his feet. “what are you doing here at this time? it’s so late,” wanderer remarks with irritation, standing in front of you with his arms folded. he stares at your figure with a frown.
“h-huh?” your voice comes out hoarse, lifting your head and your eyes slowly make out the figure of wanderer. “o-oh it’s youi… where’ve you been?” you manage to say despite how the world shakes around you.
“tch, what do you—” wanderer stops himself, raising a brow then finally taking the time to scan your face and posture and it hits him.
you’re fucking drunk.
“you’re insane,” wanderer scoffs, kneeling down to silently take a closer look at your face and body for any drunkenly bruises. “do you even know what time it is? i was waiting for you.” he doesn’t exactly know what to do with his hands but he decides to offer you one to help you get up on your feet.
“you think i’m insane but really, you’re the one doing insane things all the time! you know, like fighting fatui agents in the rain… to avenge a bird!” you put emphasis on the word ‘bird’ and wanderer scoffs at the finger you point at him.
“it was in danger,” he replies simply before sighing, “but that’s not the point. you’re drunk outside at a time like this so i’ll be taking you home now.”
talking to him magically makes you more sober with every passing second. you decide to play with him a little, leaning back on the brick wall as the crease in your brow melts away. “ooh, shouldn’t you take me on a date first?”
wanderer groans, pulling his hand back. he’s never had to deal with you drunk before! so he thinks for a moment, and he stands tall on his feet, turning his head the other direction. “if this is how you will continue to act then i will leave you to your own devices, however if you come back crawling to me—”
wanderer almost gasps at your figure suddenly standing beside him, steady on your feet as you give him a hard and long stare. “you don’t have to tell me twice about how you wait for me at home, i’m well aware of that. complain all you want about me but your words aren’t consistent with your actions, my love.” you slide your hand down his arm to reach for his hand as you lean your head on his shoulder.
you feel him tilt his face in the other direction. curious, you briefly lift your head for a moment to spot your pretty artificial lover gritting his teeth as a sheet of pink blankets his cheeks.
“fool,” he whispers, but there is no malice behind it.
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cameronspecial · 3 months
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The Speed Of Light
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: N/A
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 0.7K
Summary: All Y/N wants is to be in Rafe's arms and he is prepared to do that no matter what it takes.
A/N: Inspired by this post.
Masterlist
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Distance from Rafe isn’t something Y/N often struggles with. Sure, she likes to cuddle with him and be in physical contact with him, but she doesn’t need to do it every second of the day. She likes to have her alone time and Rafe respects that need. However, something in her today just craved to be in his hold and unlucky for her, this wasn’t his day off. In fact, he is supposed to stay late to help his dad with paperwork. She knows she shouldn’t ask him to come home, yet all she wants is to be in his arms right now. She takes her phone out and sends him a text: Are you coming home soon? His reply is just as quick. No, Bunny. I’ll probably be home past dinner time, so you can eat without me. 
Oh…
Why oh? Is everything okay?
Everything is fine. I just miss you. That’s all. She quickly follows the text with I won’t bother you anymore. I’ll let you get back to work.
Rafe is already standing at his desk and heading to his dad’s office before she can send the second text. “I know I said I would work late tonight, but Y/N needs me. I’ll finish it tomorrow morning,” he informs his dad, not asking for permission because he doesn’t care if he has it. Ward looks up from the report he is looking at, “Okay, that’s fine. Say hello to Y/N for me.” Rafe nods, going to his car without thought. I’m on my way, Bunny. She can’t hide her massive grin once she sees the message. It’s been around thirty minutes and Rafe isn’t home yet, which is strange because it should only take ten minutes to get here from his workplace. She grows worried that something happened to him, so she calls him. “Hi, Bunny,” he greets through the speakerphone. She sighs in relief, “I thought something bad happened to you. Why aren’t you home yet?” “You are very clingy today aren’t you, Bunny?” he playfully teases. “I’m sorry I scared you and I’m not home yet, but they closed a bunch of roads and there was an accident. Apparently, the Outer Banks can get pretty bad traffic.” 
“Well, can’t you use your boyfriend or Cameron's powers to get you through?” she pleads, kneading at the pillow. He chuckles, “I don’t think they can do anything about the traffic, Bunny. I’m sorry. I will be there at the speed of light though, I promise. Why don’t you go get ready? I’ll take you out to dinner.” “Hmm, I don’t want to go out for dinner. Can you pick up something at the Wreck instead? I want to cuddle,” she explains. He shakes his head with a smile, “Okay, I can do that. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” “Thank you. I love you. See you soon,” she states. His heart swells, “I love you too. Bye.” He hands up the phone. 
———
Ten minutes later, which is way faster than Y/N thought he would be coming, she hears his truck in the driveway. She flings the door open to see him with his arms held open to her. She runs into his arms, giving him a tight squeeze. He presses his kiss to her temple. She takes in the scent of his colognes, “How did you get home so fast?” “I told you I would be home at the speed of light,” he recounts. “Plus, I guess my Cameron powers were better than I thought because I was able sweet talk Shoupe to open up another road and Mike owed me a favour so he got our food out real fast.” She looks up at him with big eyes, “You did all of that for me?” “Of course. I would do anything for you, Bunny. Now, come on. Let’s eat,” he says with his lips against her forehead. He takes her inside and flops on the couch, throwing his arm over the back of the couch so she can settle in beside him. That night is spent cuddled up on the sofa, eating and watching TV. 
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming
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sucre-blue · 2 years
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if i can just......finish the next chapter of my fic i think it'll push it to just over 100k which is both exciting and Really Awful lmao
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gabseyoo · 1 year
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MWAH — SAKUSA KIYOOMI
content: fem!reader, established relationship. word count: 0,5k.
note: do you know this scene from the boys? it was the inspiration.
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“Will you pick me up at the airport tomorrow?” Kiyoomi asked, holding his phone between his ear and shoulder as he put on his sneakers. 
“Of course I will, I can’t risk you being kidnapped by a cab.” Kiyoomi’s smile at your words was hidden by his face-mask, but even so, the gleam in his eyes gave him away to his teammates, who were pretty quiet since his phone rang two minutes ago. 
And they weren’t just doing it so he wouldn’t have trouble hearing you amidst the mess in the locker room—he wished they were that respectful—they were doing it to hear him talk to you. How to blame them? It was the first time they heard Kiyoomi speak without his ‘I wish they’d all die’ voice. They even looked at each other and whispered things like, ‘Are we hearing this right?’ ‘He’s whipped.’ ‘I never thought I’d hear him say petnames.’ 
“I just wanted to make sure. I can’t wait to see you.” He said already holding the phone in his hand to stand up.
“Me neither. I miss you so much.” 
“I miss you too.” Kiyoomi replied in a sweet tone and only looked askance at Atsumu when he snorted, causing him to immediately shut up and pitifully pretend to be looking for something in his sports bag. Honestly, the twin was only amused because he never imagined Sakusa talking like that. 
He sighed when he heard the coach’s voice rushing them, and as much as he liked talking to you, he had to end the call. “Doll, I need to finish getting ready. I’ll call you after the game, okay?”
“Okay. Good luck, baby. I’ll be watching you on TV, try to look pretty for me.” Kiyoomi didn’t notice how his teammates looked at each other, puzzled to hear him laugh. 
“I don’t need to try.” 
“If you say so…” You said in a singsong tone that made him frown, but before he could ask what you meant—because of course that he always looks pretty—, you spoke again, “Well. Finish getting ready, I don’t want you to get scolded. I love you. Mwah.” 
“Bye, doll. Love you too.” Even when it sounded like a good end of the call, he knew he was missing something, and he knew you knew it, which is why he didn’t hang up right away. Instead, he glanced sideways at his teammates to make sure they didn’t hear him, because he knew they’d laugh at what he was about to do, and he clearly didn’t want that— but your next words reminded him that he couldn’t escape this one. 
“Kiyoomi, and my kiss?” 
Shit. He would never deny you a kiss. 
“Sorry, babe, I got distracted.” Kiyoomi closed his eyes, psyching himself up and wondering for a second why he didn’t answer the call outside, “I’m hanging up, okay? I love you. Mwah.” 
Unfortunately, they heard him, and very well. 
Atsumu’s laughter was immediate. But it wasn’t until Sakusa turned to look annoyingly at his teammates that everyone burst out laughing.
“Fuck you all.”
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+ note: it's something short but i needed to get it out of my mind cuz since i saw that scene i only thought of writing something like that for kiyoomi (i'm obsessed with him). i hope you like it <3.
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vixstarria · 6 months
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A night at the inn (part 1)
A night of relaxation at the inn. Inspired by a cursed screenshot of Astarion looking loopy, drunk and high.   
Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, tbc in part 2
Comfort, fluff, humour, banter, goes from very silly to very horny 
Bits that are definitely not canon that were written solely for my (and hopefully your) amusement. 
TW: It’s all very much in jest, but maybe give this one a skip if you’re struggling with any kind of substance addiction.  
Approximately 2,000 words 
“Don't be ridiculous, these silly druidic herbs have absolutely no effect on me, vampires have a natural immunity. Pass me the pipe again, I’ll prove it,” Astarion giggled uncontrollably.  
“Just hold on to it, friend, I don’t think anyone else will benefit from it,” replied Halsin. 
You, Astarion, Halsin, Karlach and Shadowheart were gathered in one of the inn’s rooms.  
Gale and Wyll were off doing whatever people who didn’t like having fun did. Possibly playing chess or reciting poetry to each other. And Lae’zel had had one look at your gathering before chk’ing, saying that someone competent needed to keep a cool head, and stalking off. 
You and Astarion were sitting crosswise on one of the beds, you nestled between his legs, your back against his chest. Shadowheart lounged on the opposite bed, with Karlach and Halsin settling on the floor between the beds.  
A scattering of glasses and opened bottles surrounded you, and a light haze hung in the air. Tadpoles, vampire lords, demons and gods could all wait until tomorrow. Tonight, for all you cared, all was well in your world.   
Earlier, Halsin had laid out an assortment of herbs, most of which you couldn’t name, and busied himself with mixing them in varying proportions and stuffing them into several smoking implements. Karlach had declined, saying there was no point and that she would stick to grog. You and Shadowheart partook in Halsin's ‘herbalist mastery' together with the druid. And now, to everyone's disbelief and amusement, so did Astarion. 
“What in the hells is in this?!” Astarion tittered, leaning back against the wall, his eyes shut and an idiotic smile on his face. You couldn’t look at him, lest it set off yet another chain reaction of giggling. 
“Part of it is moonflower, which mostly serves as an amplifier,” Halsin answered, cautiously. 
“And? What else?” You wondered whether whatever it was might help Astarion with his nightmares. The scent of the herb was vaguely familiar, but you couldn’t quite place what it was.  
“Wait! I want to guess.” Shadowheart leaned over to whisper to Halsin. He shook his head at her suggestions. Once he whispered back to her with the correct answer she collapsed on the bed with a guffaw. “Oh gods... So it is official.” 
“Halsin...” Astarion croaked. “Halsin, I will stab you... What did you give me?!” 
“I had a hunch, but it was intended as a joke – I didn’t really think it would do anything.” Halsin almost sounded apologetic.  
“Well, spill the beans, what is he smoking that’s so damned funny?! Vampire dust? Cow dung? Some kind of goblin foot fungus?” Karlach was also growing impatient.  
Halsin shook his head, laughing.  
“It’s catnip,” Shadowheart managed, still doubled over. “He’s losing his mind on catnip!” 
Once Astarion regained his ability to speak coherently, you couldn’t get him to shut up.  
Astarion hardly ever took lead in group conversations. He tended to stay on the outskirts of discussions, albeit always ready with a quip or observation. You wondered if his newfound loquaciousness was a glimpse of what he might have been like some 200 years ago. 
It helped that Karlach was bombarding him with questions about vampirism, which he was ordinarily reserved about.  
“So what happens if you consume normal food? Can you drink?” she asked. 
“Well... Kind of..? Although I think the tadpole has had some additional influence. I can drink liquids without becoming ill, as long as it’s not too much. They tend to taste vile or like nothing at all, or not have any effect on me. Coffee smells amazing but tastes like dirt, for example. But potions work, somehow,” he rambled. “Solids are a complete disaster though”. He refused to elaborate.  
“And the wine?” she persisted.  
“Red wine is palatable,” he said, swirling some in a glass that he held in his hand. “But if you want better than ‘palatable’ you really need something of good quality.” 
“You’re just a snob,” you interjected. 
“That may be so, but this is about having something called standards, darling, I’ll teach you about them someday”, he said with a kiss to your temple, as you elbowed him. “But there are ways of going around poor wine.” 
Astarion took your hand in his, pressing his lips against it. 
“May I?”  
Once he had your approval, he carefully punctured the tip of your ring finger with a fang. You idly mused about how completely unfazed you had become by having your skin pierced, as he dripped some of your blood into his wine. 
“Now stir.” He licked the drops of wine from your finger once you were done, and had a sip from his glass. “Like adding honey to tea... Now it’s delectable.” 
“Freaks,” said Karlach, lovingly.  
The conversation moved to him debating wines from various regions with Shadowheart, a subject they were both perhaps unsurprisingly well-versed in.  
“How kind of Lady Shar to leave you such detailed knowledge of something that truly matters, when wiping out so many other memories,” he observed.  
Eventually, the topic changed to Karlach’s years in the Hells, and what it had been like to set just about everything she touched ablaze until Dammon’s recent assistance.  
“Could you do me a favour and hold my hand in yours for a moment?” said Astarion, leaning towards and holding out a hand to Karlach.  
“I haven’t done this in so long this still makes me nervous, you know,” she said, taking his hand in both of hers. “Sorry if I lose my cool and burn you.” 
“I’m sure I’ve had worse,” he replied humourlessly. “...That should do it,” he said after a short while. “Gods, you really do run like a furnace.” You wondered where this was going.  
“Now could everyone look away? I’m about to do something disgustingly sentimental.” 
Immediately, four pairs of eyes including your own were locked on him.  
“Voyeuristic pricks...” he sighed. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” 
He ran the back of his fingers delicately down your cheek before cupping it in his hand. It was warm, almost hot, as you nuzzled into it.  
“Well isn’t that cute,” Shadowheart remarked into her glass of wine.  
Astarion wasn’t always cold to the touch, not exactly. He became warmer after drinking blood. His body was heated by sunshine on sunny days, just like anything else. And after spending some time under blankets with you he felt almost cozy to snuggle against. But he’s never radiated heat the way the hand against your cheek did now.  
“It doesn’t feel like you,” you mustered, looking into his eyes. He gave you a wistful smile.  
“...If there is any other bodypart you’d like me to warm up for Tav’s benefit, do fuck off before you even ask,” said Karlach, breaking the brief silence that had descended onto the room, and the tender moment was gone, overtaken by yet another uproar of laughter. 
Things quieted down as the evening wore on. 
“I wonder what Lae’zel is doing,” said Shadowheart, who had been silently gazing off into space and occasionally blowing smoke rings for the past while. “Probably something infuriating.” 
“You should go tell her how utterly unimpressed you are with her,” goaded Astarion. 
“I should... I will,” she said, suddenly getting up, determination writ on her face, exiting the room with a surprisingly steady step. 
Karlach sighed. 
“I better go look after her and make sure they don’t need to be taken apart. ...Or that no one else does, if they don’t.” She followed Shadowheart.  
“Nature calls,” said Halsin, also getting up. “And I don’t think anyone’s fed Scratch and the owlbear cub.” 
It was just you and Astarion, who had been grazing your neck with his fangs with increasing impatience. 
“Do it,” you said as soon as the door shut behind Halsin. Instantly, you felt an icy chill in your neck and released a small moan as he bit down, drawing your blood, his hands roaming your body.  
“I’ve been thinking of nothing else for hours,” he breathed hoarsely, once he had his fill. Having a miniscule amount of your blood in his wine and then being unable to sate himself more thoroughly would have been the ultimate tease for him. He really did not think that through, per usual.  
You could have offered him your wrist at some point, your companions had witnessed that on numerous occasions. But you knew you both wanted something more intimate. And private.  
You sank onto the bed with Astarion on top of you, as he continued to lick at the puncture wounds, to get them to stop bleeding.  
“Think Halsin’s coming back?” you murmured.  
“Of course he is. Haven’t you seen how he’s been looking at us?” He wedged his hips between your legs as he continued to suck and lick at your neck, more slowly now.  
"Oh, has he been looking at us in some particular way?” you feigned ignorance. Astarion raised his head briefly to shoot you a look that said ‘oh please’.  
“Do you want him..?” He rolled his hips deliciously into yours as he asked that.  
“Stop teasing,” you whispered. You knew he wasn’t going to let you do anything with the erection you felt pressed against you. 
“Never. Do you want him?” He gave you a mischievous look.  
“I don’t know what you mean.” 
“Sorry darling, I’ll try to do a better job at explaining.” He raised himself back up, his face hovering just above yours. “Do you want to feel his hot, hard cock pumping in and out of you, while I watch?” He studied your reaction closely. “Oh you would like that, wouldn’t you..?” 
“Astarion-” It wasn’t easy to make you blush, but somehow he always found a way when he wanted to.   
“Shh love, I already know everything you’re going to say.” Astarion raised his voice in pitch (resulting in something that definitely DID NOT sound anything like you) and returned to your neck, planting a kiss further down with each sentence: “’I love you, Astarion. I only want you, Astarion. I don’t think you’re ready for this, Astarion. You’re going to regret this, Astarion.’” 
“How about, ‘you’re intoxicated, Astarion’?” 
“Barely,” he scoffed. “It’s worn off.” He tugged at your blouse’s lacing with his teeth. 
“Or maybe it’s ‘no, I don’t want that, Astarion’,” you lied.  
He chuckled at those words and came back up to whisper in your ear. 
“My love... You’re forgetting I can hear your heartbeat. I can smell your arousal. Every time your breath hitches and your heart speeds up – I know. Any time blood suddenly rushes somewhere in your body – I know...”  
“That is an entirely unfair advantage,” you protested. 
“Yes, having a lover that anticipates your every need and reads you like a book is so, so tragically unfair, your poor, poor thing...” 
“And also it’s not what you said, it’s how you said it!” you continued. 
“Porridge,” Astarion whispered in his most seductive voice, grinding against you. “The philosophy and theory of divination, volume four. A bulging coin purse. Gale’s purple pajamas. ...Nope, nothing.” Astarion smirked, and continued in a more normal voice, stilling. “Now let’s try... You dripping wet and begging us both for mercy before the night is over.” He grinned wryly as you let out an involuntary whimper. “I thought so...” 
“You’ve told me yourself, you don’t want to share me with anyone,” you persisted.  
“It’s your heart I can’t bear to share. And he’s a wood elf,” Astarion said dismissively. “He may as well be a walking penis, who would get emotionally involved with that?” 
“You did not just call our honourable companion, the esteemed archdruid of the Emerald Grove a walking penis!” you hissed, choking on laughter, covering his mouth with your hand.  
“A giant phallus on legs,” Astarion mumbled stubbornly against your palm, licking it.  
You heard footsteps approaching the door.  
“Do you really want this?” you whispered, angling Astarion’s face to make him look you in the eyes, and releasing his mouth. “Be serious for a second.” 
“I want this,” he said, holding your gaze. “I really want this. As long as you do too.” 
The door opened, and you both turned your heads to regard the tall, broad figure that paused in the entryway, leaning against the doorframe.  
“Is it company or privacy you desire?” 
~~~~~
Part 2
More of my chaos gremlins
AO3
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writers-hes · 11 months
Text
Sydney Saw it First (c. berzatto x reader)
You’re Carmy’s friend from Noma and he asks tou to mentor Marcus before he heads to Copenhagen to stage. Sydney thinks you’re both fools in love and she’s determined to fix it. (fluff, sydney being the best wingman, inspired by the scene in new girl when nick points his shoes to jess, two fools in love)
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It was hard for anyone to read if the Carmen Berzatto cared.
Some days, he was loving but most days he was tenacious. It’s not like he meant it. It was just how he was wired; how he reacts to things. The crew learned that the hard way, when he exploded on Marcus, when he screamed at Sydney…when the stress gets to him, it really gets to him.
He’s imposed penance on himself for his actions, secluding himself from the world…being unreachable. If there was one thing in the world that he craved and that he was afraid of, it was love. So he secludes himself until he feels alone. Relationships were unnatural to him.
But it came naturally with you.
You were training to become a pastry chef at Noma when Carmy was there. You met each other at the halls, shared friends that it was inevitable for you two to become friends. He was your first taste tester when you first made croissants. He helped you make your own sourdough starter for the sourdough cookies that you were experimenting on. You were the first person whom he cooked his mom’s picatta. You were his sous chef, helping him prep the vegetables on important dates. When news arrived detailing Mikey’s death, you were the first person he called. 
You two were great. You were great.
If anyone deserved praise, Carmy thought that it was you.
He didn’t know why but when he saw that Marcus was really interested in pastry, he called you; asked you to come and teach a really, really eager student that was going to stage in Copenhagen soon. Sydney also suggested that sweets are needed in a restaurant. You didn’t hesitate to board the plane upon his request. If anything, you were glad that he was finally asking you for a favor. It only meant that he was still—if not more—comfortable with you. 
You arrived in Chicago all smiles, and greetings. It was Richie and Carmy who picked you up from the airport and Richi was floored. How did his cousin even manage to tolerate you? He didn’t hate you immediately, of course. In any case, Carmy told you about his little girl; you decided to bring her a little gift. 
“I didn’t know what to get you but Carmy said that you have a daughter so I got this instead,” you said, extending a toy. “My niece has the same one…so, I figured…”
“Yeah, yeah,” Richie nodded. He muttered a small ‘thanks’ before helping you with you luggage. 
The night before, Carmy instructed everyone during family to behave. 
“Look, there will be no funny business, alright? My friend is flying in tomorrow to oversee Marcus and act as his mentor while we fix the Bear. No taking her knife away, no screaming, no fighting, no fucking anything, alright, chefs?” he asked. When he was met with silence, “Alright, Chefs?”
A couple of ‘heards’ were thrown. 
“Who is this friend, anyway, Jeff?” Tina asked. “You didn’t tell us to behave when Sydney over here first came,”
“Someone from Copenhagen. She, uh—“
“She?” Sweeps asked, his eyebrows raised in anticipation. “You got a girl, chef?”
“No,” he replied. “She studied in Copenhagen as a pastry chef, okay? No big deal—“ he proceeds to mention your name and how you’re just really super cool. “No big deal—“
“Wait, Chef, that’s a big deal!” Marcus said. “Oh, you know her recipes are all over my station, right?” he asked. “Sydney—“
“I went to the place she worked at in New York after I graduated. Everything’s just so…good. Amazing,” she recalled. “So, yes, it’s a big deal,”
“Yeah, whatever. Just promise me to behave, alright?” Carmy asked. “She’ll have to make do with what we currently have but I’ll try to stock up and set up the station before she arrives tomorrow.” 
-
You arrived at the Beef—er, the Bear a day after your arrival in Chicago. You were able to find a place that was near the city center for a good deal. You were here indefinitely, still trying to figure out if you wanted to run your own bakery or just work with others for the rest of your life. Seeing Carmy take the leap was insipiring. 
“Hello, chefs, I’m Y/N,” you said, a friendly smile gracing your features. Carmy was right beside you, watching everyone. “I’m a pastry chef and I graduated with Carmy in Copenhagen. I’m here to mentor Marcus but of course, if you have any questions regarding anything, you can ask me. I know how to cook too…and uh, I’ll be taking care of family tonight,”
Carmy jerks from his relaxed position. 
“You sure?” he asks softly. “I can take care of family, if you’re too tired.”
“Yeah. It’s like initiation,” you nod, looking at him and then looking back at the new faces in front of you again. “Do you have any questions…”
Sydney raises her hand. 
“Um, I’m sorry if this comes across rude but why are you here?” she asked.
“Oh, well, I’m not really tied down to anything right now. When Carmy called me, asking if I could come here, I decided to go. I’m here in Chicago indefinitely and I’ve been receiving invitations to cook, teach a class, whatever. I might accept some of those,” you said. Sydned nodded. Damn, Noma’s chefs were being chased from left and right. She was in the presence of two. 
“Do you have a little notebook?” Tina asked, making Sydney scofd. “With recipes?”
“Um, no,” you shook your head. “I keep all my notes in my head and then write it afterwards,” Tina liked you already. 
“What do you think about Carmen Berzatto—“
“Anyway, that’s all, Chefs! Marcus, come to the office with me, chef,” Carmy said, breaking up the huddle, and making you laugh. He discreetly pulls down your shirt, a sign that you should follow him too to the office. When you were both out of earshot, Sydney asked no one in particular.
“That girl and Chef? There’s something,”
That afternoon, during family, Sydney watched the two of you like a hawk. Confirming her suspicions when Carmy stayed for family and sat beside you.
-
Sydney notices it for the second time. You were going over the Noma “picture book” with Marcus, telling him how some of the desserts came about.
“What’s this?” Marcus asked, pointing at a photo of the dessert that put you on the map. 
“That’s a dish of candied hallabong peel, with a prosecco peach sorbet, on a bed of meringue, topped with candied cherries. I got it because some of my friends went to Jeju sometime and brought back this orange hybrid. I think….I think we can recreate it but it wouldn’t be the same without the orange.”
“What about the flesh and the juice?”
“I turned it into like an orange-chocolate cake with chocolate mousse,”
Carmy was just passing by but he decided to watch you interact with his employees instead. 
“Anyways, where’s your chocolate cake? Let’s taste it and compare it from the last one. Also, I can send you my recipe for sourdough doughnuts. Just give me your email,” you said, looking up briefly to find Carmy already looking at you. It made him feel good to see you incorporate yourself so well in the kitchen. Well, it’s not like the Bear is open but his staff went to you for some tips and advice. They were all undergoing some sort of training to make everything more elevated. “Hey, Carm. Do you need anything?” 
“Hey-hey,” he coughed, ashamed for being caught. “Nothing. Uh—“
“Chef, did you ever try Y/N’s stuff?” Marcus asked. He’d really, really, really want to taste something that you made someday. They were all delicate and so detailed. It’s probably why you got multiple awards at such a young age.
“I did. She used to bring big Tupperware containers of things they made in the kitchen,” 
“He finished them all,” you told Marcus. “Wouldn’t spare me a bite,”
“I don’t know, bug,” he teased. “I vividly remember you begging me to do it because you were so sick of fucking croissants.”
“You’re so annoying,” you huffed, a playful smile on your face. “Go on now. Marcus and I have stuff to do and you’re distracting us.”
“In my own restaurant,” Carmy mutters, shaking his head. Sydney’s eyes immediately directed to Tina. Did you see? Did you hear the word ‘Bug’?. Tina only shrugged. 
-
Sugar dropped in to check on the improvements being done at the Bear  when she saw you and Carmen at the back, talking. She had to double take what she saw because it was quite…odd to see him talk to you with the same twinkle he used to have. She has never seen him like this. He was genuinely laughing at some of the things that you were saying, a shared plate of leftover chocolate cake between the two of you. 
“Who’s the girl outside?” Sugar asked, looking at Richie and Sydney for answers. 
“Some fancy pastry chef Carmy met in Copenhagen,” Richie replied. “It’s a whole bet now, you know? They’re always out in their own world ever since she got here,”
“Everyone puts in 10 to predict what’s going to happen,” Tina said. “You’re betting?”
“Yeah, sure,” Sugar says, giving a bill to Tina. “I bet…I bet they’ll fall in love right before she leaves Chicago. Like, on the way to the airport. Carmy’s going to tell her that he loves her and she stays,”
Laughter echoes in the room. 
“This is not some fucking movie, cousin,” Richie said. “Obviously, Carmy’s not gonna do shit about it.”
“I think…she’ll call him over and they’ll share a moment,” Marcus said. “He’s always at her place, did you know that?”
Meanwhile, unaware of the ongoing bet, Carmy looks at you.
“What do you think about Chicago?” he asked, a cigarette hanging idly on his fingers. 
“It’s nice…chilly,” you said. “But it’s nice. I’ve been offered jobs here, you know?”
“Hm?” he asked. “Are you planning to take them?”
“I’m…thinking about them. They’re all the same but like, I want my own bakery, you know? My own place.” you said. “It’s going to be a lot of work if I do that and I don’t necessarily have the staff to do all that.” you said. 
“If you want…you can come stay with us if you’re not sure,” he offers. “Like a pastry chef. Actually, I’ll have to ask Sugar and Sydney if it’s alright with them but you can stay here,”
“Bear, I don’t want to impose—“
Sydney was walking outside to throw the trash but she stopped her trackes when she heard you talk. 
“I want you here,” Carmy said with conviction. “But if you don’t-don’t like it here in Chicago, I wouldn’t mind either, you know? It’s just that…I want you here and-and fuck, I don’t know. I guess working with you made it so much more fun again, you know? Like us in Copenhagen. I mean, we’re always a team and-and it’s nice to have you here with me. Sugar and spice? Sweet and spicy or whatever the fuck they called us back then,” he chuckled, inhaling his cigarette to calm himself down. “We can make it work,”
“Yeah, yeah. You go talk about it to Nat and Syd,” you said, taking a swig of your water. “And then we’ll talk. Cool?”
“Cool,” he shrugged. Sydney leaves and goes back to where the commotion was. 
“I change my scenario,” she said. 
“You can’t do that, Sydney,” Richie said. “It’s a bet! You have to pay again,”
Sydney breathed, what was ten more, right? Fuck. 
“Fuck, sure, okay. Whatever,” she said, giving Richie the bill. “She’ll stay here. She’ll realize the there’s nothing waiting for her back home and she’ll stay here,”
“Where did you get this?” Fak asked. “Quite—oh my God. Sydney, did you fucking cheat?” 
“No, I didn’t fucking cheat!” she defended, it was a lie. “Can’t you see the two of them? Always in their own world? How would Carmy let her go?”
“Jeffrey has a point,” Tina shrugged. “But if she loses, just know that you lost twice, Jeff,”
“I know,” 
-
You, Sydney, and Carm all went to his apartment. It was where the two of them made a menu while you acted as a consultant and a taste tester. Their palates were fucked and they didn’t know what to do or what to cook anymore. So they asked you. But you weren’t there today. You and Marcus were in your apartment, making up stuff for dessert. The Beef has officially closed down and is a rubbled mess. There was no space and Carmy just wanted to be there with you.
“Can I ask you something and you can tell me to fuck off?” Sydney asked while she watched Carmy plate the hamachi crudo. 
“Hm?”
“Do you…have feelings for Y/N?” she asked, looking at Carmy. He blushed, his ears turning red for being caught.
“Is it obvious?”
“To everyone but her,” she shrugged.
“Fuck, really? I thought I was being discreet,”
“Oh, you can stay here! You’re so good and so smart and so pretty,” Sydney gushed, mocking Carmen.
“Fuck off,” he laughs. “I…I do,”
“Yeah?”
“I just…just…she’s uh, so amazing, and like, I’ve been feeling these feelings since…since Copenhagen,” he mumbles, finishing the garnish with an oil. 
“Damn. You never made a move?” she asked, getting forks. She gives one to Carmen and they both taste the crudo. It was amazing. “That’s good,”
“It is. Good job, Syd,” Carmy replied.
“It was her who told me to try adding jalapeno slices,” Syd said. 
“You can’t do that,” Carmy warned her. Why did she want to get you two together so bad? “But I haven’t done anything. I mean, like, she was dating these guys and they’re so cool that-that it was never really my turn,” he remembered.
“But you’re the best chef in the world! That trumps that,” she encouraged. “None of them worked out?”
“No,” Carmy shook his head. “She’d always end things and I don’t want that for myself. She told me none of them worked out…wasn’t what she was, uh, looking for?”
“Oh,” Sydney nodded. “Well, if you’re feeling brave enough…”
“I haven’t been having…fun,” Carmy acknowledges. “With the Beef and the Bear until she got here, you know? Made me feel like I was young in Copenhagen again,”
“Another question. You can say fuck off if you want,” Sydney says and watches as Carmy bites a smile. “The last one. Is that why you asked her to stay? It’s just that I heard you the other day and…”
“Fuck off,” he laughs but Sydney noticed how everything about him conveyed everything that she needed to know. 
-
“This is a quenelle,” you told Marcus. You, Marcus, Carm, and Sydney were at your apartment. It was bigger than Carmy’s and your oven didn’t have jeans in them. “This took me at least a hundred tries,” you chuckled. “You just…away, back, and then hands…” You demonstrated, making a quenelle of a yuzu mousse.
“Damn, Chef. How’d you do that?” Marcus asked, trying it for himself. He failed, his quenelle being a little bit smaller than yours. 
“I had a friend named Luca. He didn’t let me out of the kitchen until I made a perfect one,” you recalled. “Carmy was there and he was laughing at me. He could do it in like three tries and I remember hating him,”
“You hate me?” he asked, leaning on the countertop. He didn’t like to hear about Luca. He only wanted you to talk about the two of you.
“Hey, Bear. Try this?” you asked, spooning him the raspberry curd. Carmy opens his mouth and you walk over, feeding him the pinkish liquid and then watching his face. “It goes with a black sesame shell. Do you like it?”
He notices your close proximity and flushes.
“Y-yeah,” he coughed, looking away. “Really good. Uh, very good,”
“No notes?” you asked and he swore he could kiss you right there because you were so beautiful.
“No notes,”
“Thanks, Chef,” you said. Sydney whistles as you help Marcus master his quenelle. Carmy looks at her and she teases him with a mockery of what he just said.
Carmy and Marcus left after cleaning up. You and Sydney decided to have a girl’s night. You were both sitting on the couch, mud masks on your faces when she turned to you fully.
“You know, he likes you right?”
“Who?” you asked, trying to fit a handful of chips.
“Carmy,” you heard and you choked on the bits of chips in your mouth. 
“Fuck!” you choked. “Sydney!” You were coughing while Sydney handed you a glass of vodka cranberry. You gulp it down. “You—can’t say shit like that!”
“What?” she laughed. “Look, I’m not kidding! Whenever he talks to you, his feet are pointed at you. I’ve read enough fucking books and body language shit to know that he’s interested,”
“I don’t think so,” you said. “That’s bullshit,”
“It’s not though,” she shrugged. “He asked you to stay for a reason,”
“He needs a pastry chef,” you shrugged. “Besides, he and I are friends, Sydney. I’ve been trying to get him jealous all my time in Copenhagen but he never…he never got the signal,”
“Oh,” Sydney nods. Two idiots in love. “Have you ever tried telling him?”
“Of course not! He’s always on about how he doesn’t have the energy to love or date. I tried the jealousy thing before but it never worked. Trust me, there’s nothing.”
-
Carmy arrives at your doorstep the next morning, bright and early. Sydney had already left, telling you something about stopping by at her dad’s apartment to get stuff. You were going to the Bear with him to help Sydney choose plates for the restaurant. 
“Good morning,” he greets. Two cups of take-out coffee in his hands. “I got us some coffee while we walk on the way,”
“Thank you,” You took the cup from his hands and clutched your jacket tighter. It was so, so, so cold. “Didn’t know it was going to be this chilly today,”
“You wanna wear my jacket?”
“You’ll be cold,”
“It doesn’t bother me,” he said, already taking off the jacket to the best of his one-handed ability. He was only wearing a gray sweater underneath. “I have something. See?” He doesn’t take no for an answer, taking your coffee and your bag from you so you could wear the colorful jacket.
“Thanks, Bear,” you said, smiling at him. The sight of you in his clothes does something to him and he couldn’t help except give you a slight nod before forging on in the chilly Chicago weather. 
You both entered the Beef giggling amongst yourselves when the usual buzzing stopped.
“Remember when Luca—“
You halted, finding the silence odd. You looked around to see everyone looking at you.
“What’s wrong? Is something wrong?” Carmy asked, removing his hand from the small of your back. “Syd—“
“Love the sweater,” Richie teases. You look down and feel the warmth on your cheeks. 
“It was cold and he asked me to wear it,” you shrugged, leaving Carmen to deal with the staff out front. You were signalling Sydney for help but she only looked away. Traitor. “Um—“
“Y/N, if you could please help me out here,” Carmy called you. 
“Your boyfriend’s calling,”
“He’s not!” you huffed before walking over. “What is it?”
“I need you to time me, is that okay?” he asked. He nodded towards the stopwatch and you complied. “Thank you. I just need to check or like, map out the kitchen you know?”
“Of course,” you replied. 
“Do you need help getting on—“
“It’s okay it’s just an old thing,” you replied.
“Yo, cousin! If you’re done eye fucking, Sugar needs you.” Richie calls.
“We’re not eye-eye fucking!” you complained. “What the fuck?” You stood up from your corner before you could even work and accidentally looked down. If a man is interested his feet will—
You move to the side and Carmy follows. And then to the side again. 
“Y/N–“
“Stay there,” you asked, walking around him and him turning around. “Carm!”
“What?” he asked, grasping your shoulders. He looks down to his shoes. “Are my shoes dirty?”
“No, it’s just—“ you tried again but Carm still followed. “Sydney told me about like, how when a guy is, uh,”
“Cousin!”
“Fuck, okay. Let’s talk about it later okay? Once everyone’s out?” he asked, looking at you. “Can we do that?” His jacket felt softer on you than it ever did on him.
“Yea-yeah,” you nodded. “I’ll go help Sydney,”
The afternoon passed by and you were alone at The Bear. You waited for Carmen to finish up at the dining area like you promised. Your heart was beating so fast, maybe a thousand miles an hour. What Sydney said has been on your mind and what if it wasn’t true and you get embarrassed? Fuck, could you even handle that?
You sighed, burying your head between your hands when Carmy walks over to you. 
“What’s up?” he asked. “Everything alright?”
“Y-yeah,” you nod. “Can you stay there and just, I don’t know, be Carmy?” you asked, standing up to test the theory again. He just stands there, dumbfounded. You circle around him and he follows. You were looking on the ground. 
“Fuck, what the fuck?” he asked. “Is there something wrong with my shoes? I know they’re old and not—“
“Carmen, shh,”
“What?” he asked, grasping your shoulders for the second time that day to steady you. “What’s wrong?”
“Fuck, I don’t—“
“What’s wrong?”
“Sydney told me that there’s like, this body language thing and like, uh, says that when a guy is interested his shoes are always pointing at you and well, she told me to look at yours,” you rambled, looking away in embarrassment. “Look, if this will be weird between the two of us, I mean—“
“Why would it matter?” he asked, hands inching closer to your neck. He was nervous but maybe this is the opening that he’s been waiting for for years. When you didn’t reply, he asked again. “Why would it matter?”
“Because…because I’ve been trying to make you jealous for years in Copenhagen and it never worked,” you whispered. You were embarrassed. It felt like you were in high school telling your crush that you liked him. “I know you don’t see me that way,” you replied, trying to look for the right words. Carmy lets you finish. He wanted to hear you. “And it’s fine. If this is stupid, let’s forget that this ever happened. Okay? God, I’m so fucking embarrassed right now,” 
“Hey, hey,” he cooes, his thumb tucked the hair back and then caressed your cheek. “Whoever said that I wasn’t jealous? I had to leave all the time because I was so fucking jealous. Those guys were cool. Don’t-don’t be embarrassed, okay? I like hearing that-you, uh, like me,”
“Carmy…don’t lie to me, okay? You don’t have to pretend—hm,” 
Carmy had just kissed you. Carmen Berzatto just kissed you. You were clutching on his shirt so tightly, afraid that if he lets go, he’ll be gone. But he doesn’t. He just trails his hands down to your back, touching skin to skin until you’re one. 
“I’ve been waiting years to do that,” Carmy rasps, breathing heavily. 
“Yeah? Then, do it again,” you whispered, smirking slightly at how he seemed to blush hard. Before you could tease him though, he tucks your hair back again, bringing your lips closer to his.
He did.
A/N: Thank you for giving my recent fics so much love and for being so motivating. Your kind words really make my day and I hope that you love this too. Don’t forget to reblog and comment! Thanks again!
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