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ticktokrobotsnot · 10 months

Text

Turbulence

This is part 1.

You can read Part 2 here

Pairing: Carmen Berzatto x fem!reader

Summary: An accountant helps Carmen organize his shit-hole restaurant.

Word Count: 14k

warning: panic attacks, stabbing Richie in the ass, mentions of suicide, tax evasion lol

After years of working in restaurants as an in-house accountant, Y/n met a lot of chefs. They were all the same, especially the good ones, and the worst part was that they all thought they were so unique and tortured. They assumed that their problems justified them yelling over a broken sauce or a pierced piece of veal. They made food look pretty and they served it to people. Women have been doing that for years and you don't have people praising them for that. Now some guy with a complex does it and its art, it's magical, it's jaw dropping. No, it was a waste of time and energy.

It was food, a necessity and they had perverted it to some freak art show with conflicting flavors and overall mayhem. It was like a cult, where they convinced everyone that their ossobuco for breakfast, coq au vin for lunch, escargots de bourgogne for dinner, and crème brûlée for dessert wasn’t making them physically sick, mixing different cuisine in a failed attempt at being different. It was regular food served small, but the pretentiousness made y/n more sick than their food.

Y/n was willing to concede that Carmen wasn’t the worst chef she met. She got a job at the French Laundry a few years back and there really wasn’t a word that could adequately describe him because to her, Carmen was nothing but a shell of a man.

In their brief encounters, y/n knew Carmen didn’t have a life outside of cooking. She would watch the chefs come in at the ass crack of dawn and Carmen was always there first. Even when he came to pick up his check at the end of the day, he would grab it before running back to the kitchen to check up on some marinated before he left. The stupid hunk of meat deserved more of his attention than the women handing him his paycheck. She had to refrain her self from screaming, “Look at me you stupid fuck, I’m here giving you your paycheck, look me in the fucking eyes. That steak isn’t going to do anything but get shit out in a few hours! I'm real, look at me.”

It was an immature and one-sided hate, Carmen didn’t really deserve it. However, she found it hard to resist seeing him as an easy target, given his passive nature and frustrating obliviousness to the situation. She never actually did anything crazy like mess with his paycheck or fuck with his W-2, it was more like glaring at him when no one was looking or taking a pen that feel out from his bookbag, holding on to it for a few days, and then dropping it near his locker a few days later. It was very harmless and it felt nice to finally have someone to bother, without actually bothering them.

Every so often he would do something that would make it difficult to hate him fully. He would open the door for her when they were the first to come into work, or he would help her pick up some files that she dropped, or put that very pen back in her cup holder because he assumed that the pen was her pen to begin with. If he had said a single word to her, y/n would probably have had a bit of a crush on him but he never did, infact y/n never heard his voice. Her office was quite a walk from the kitchen so she was left wondering if he belonged to the boisterous brigade of chefs who bellowed at anything in their path, or if he truly possessed the quiet demeanor he exuded. If he were to speak a single syllable, he would transform from a mere embodiment of her job dissatisfaction into a fully-formed individual.

That's why she was confused when she got a phone call weeks after Carmen mysteriously left. The resignation was a shock to y/n, she never once expected him to quit, she thought he would die on top of the stove when his heart finally checked out from all that fat, sugar and acid at 65. She remembered mindlessly sticking his last paycheck in an envelope to ship to Chicago, maybe he got a better job there at Venteux, Brindille, or Les Nomades. They must have sent an amazing poacher for him to leave just about everything in his locker but his backpack and never look back.

“Hello, is this y/n?” Y/n sat up on her couch wondering who was calling her at 9pm on a Tuesday.

“Yeah…Who is this?’ Y/n wondered if one of her friends gave out her number without asking her again. Even if this guy had a nice voice and sounded handsome she would have to reject him based on principle.

“It's Carmen…Berzatto… from the French Laundry.” Y/n dropped her phone in shock, not knowing what knocked the wind out of her lungs more, the fact that she was getting a call from an ex-employee, the fact that he had her number in the first place, the fact that she was getting this call scandalously late, or that he actually sounded like that. Jesus, he was really holding back on her.

“Are you still there?” Y/n grabbed her phone from the floor and gave him a simple, “Yes.”

“How have you…been?” He was unsure how to approach this and he would never do this unless he was desperate, which he was.

“I have been fine, I heard you moved to Chicago, a new exciting job?”

“That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about.” Y/n didn’t probe because this felt like payback for all the times that she said something to him hoping that he would fill the space just for him to walk into that stupid fucking kitchen and leave her standing around like a fool.

“Umm…It's a long story but I have this restaurant that needs a bit of accounting?” Y/n didn’t say anything and let him suffer in his own silence like she used to. She chose to flop down on her couch again.

“I'm not sure what the right word is, but the books are a mess and I was wondering if you could have a look.”

“Paid of course. Obviously I'm going to pay you.” He stumbled out. Finally, y/n thought, he was fumbling which was a nice change of pace from his usual stoicism.

“What’s the place's name?”

“The Beef.” Y/n sat up on her elbows.

“I have never heard of it before, how many stars does it have?”

“It doesn't have any.”

“Okay…okay?…” Y/n was assuming that he started working at some nepo babies new pet restaurant, the pay must be amazing for him to leave like that. A part of her was proud of Carmen for choosing money over his craft.

Y/n continued, “Give me the owner’s number and we can get the details together.”

“I'm the owner.” She didn’t think that she could be rendered speechless by a guy who would probably combust if you squirted cheese-wiz within a 10 feet radius of him.

Y/n composed herself, he was calling for her which means that he needed her. She had the leverage and she wouldn’t ruin it by babbling like an idiot. “I can come by next week.”

She heard a distant sigh, “That's…yeah…yeah, that's great, we will cover travel and get you a place to stay.” Y/n wanted to be a bitch and demand first class and a five star hotel but she had a feeling that he would actually think she was being serious.

“I’ll send over the information, y/n.” The sound of her name coming out his lips felt foreign, she had never heard her name spoken like that.

“Good night, Carmen.” Just as she was about to hang up the phone she heard a quiet, “She said yes?” He doubted her. Good, y/n thought, he should doubt her, he doesn’t know anything about her and that was entirely his fault. She hung up the phone and searched up The Beef, she found a hundred restaurants with the same name. What the hell was Carmen doing at a restaurant that couldn’t even come up with an original name.

She gave herself a week to prepare even though she didn’t have a job anymore. She quit a few days after Carmen did, she had lost all motivation to go there everyday, without a target she was just flying till she splattered on the ground.

The underlying reason for her self-imposed week of preparation was a strategic move to play hard to get. Y/n wanted Carmen to realize her value and understand that he needed her and that she was just as good as him, if not better.

Immature, petty, bitchy, difficult, mean; maybe her mother was right about her after all.

A week flew by and she was at baggage claim when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around and saw a short woman in a blue apron and an eye-sore of a bandana.

“I'm Sydney, I'm new. I’m here to pick you up, Carmen says he’s sorry couldn’t do it but we have to prep for the lunch rush.” The way that Sydney looked when speaking about Carmen showed that she had a deep respect for him and a small evil part of y/n wanted to convince Sydney that Carmen was actually tied to the mob or did ballet in his spare time. Something that would knock him off of a pedestal and make him more like a person and less like a God.

Y/n picked up her luggage and wordlessly rolled it over to where Sydney had it parked. The ride to the restaurant was filled with questions that she really didn’t know the answer to, What was Carmen like in New York? What was a dish of his that y/n liked the most?

Sydney should have asked what his salary was, that y/n knew like the back of her hand. Y/n answer those questions by repeating things that other people have said about Carmen. His plum desert was to die for, he was very methodical in the kitchen, and he ran a tight ship, what more could she possibly know?

Sydney finally pulled over in a rough neighborhood and y/n wondered if Sydney needed to do an errand before they finished their journey but when she saw through the window that another guy was wearing the same color apron as Sydney, she knew that this was the famous “The Beef'' that took Carmen away from her. It wasn’t even called “The Beef'' it was called, “The Original Beef of Chicagoland '' which was somehow even worse.

Y/n told Sydney that she needed a few moments to herself and when Sydney slipped inside, y/n started sprinting towards the pub next door. She gave the bartender a sob story about how she was looking for a job next door as a waitress and how she wanted to know what the situation was next door, for her safety, before she asked for a job. The bartender bought her story and gave her a quick review of what had happened. The previous owner killed himself, shot his brains out, and now it was under new management, the old guy’s brother. Yikes didn’t even begin to cover what y/n thought but that was the best she could come up with, so...Yikes.

She ran back to the restaurant, fixed up her hair and walked in like she didn’t just hear a horrific story that was going to make it very difficult to do her job.

Y/n walked in, and she felt like she was in an alternate dimension, y/n was by no means spoiled and she had eaten in worse places than this, but the thought that Carmen Berzatto, her Carmen Berzatto, was working in a place like this felt like a joke. She wondered how stupid he looked in his chef whites, slicked back hair, and annoying long apron that looked like a skirt.

The restaurant hadn’t opened yet but she was greeted by a woman named Tina who basically rolled her eyes at y/n and then disappeared into the kitchen. Sydney chirped in with a comforting, “Yeah…she’s like that.” Y/n gave her an understanding smile. She wasn’t expecting much because nobody likes an intruder.

“Carmen said I need to look at some books. Do you know where they are…or where he is so he can tell me where they are?”

“Sdy, can you cover for me.” Y/n’s head snapped up, she recognized that voice from the phone call and was rendered speechless twice. He wasn’t wearing those migraine inducingly ugly chef whites but regular clothes with a blue apron. He had many more tattoos than she thought. His hair wasn’t slick back with gel but it was actually relaxed barring any sweat that might have pushed his hair back. Carmen was buff, which was such a shock to her that she really did feel like this was not real. And lastly, he called this “new” chef Sdy, a nickname. They were close, and y/n couldn’t explain it but that made her eyes twitch. She worked so hard to get to know him the first few months at the French Laundry and got nothing and now “Syd” got a nickname.

She took a deep breath before, “It's been a while.”

“Thanks for coming, let me show you the books.” She was surprised to hear any form of thanks from him but the lack of small talk was really nothing new. She followed him through the kitchen and heat from all the stoves made her nauseous. There was a lot of yelling and it looked like it was an overall mess both aesthetically wise and teamwork wise.

They finally got to the office, it had a worn desk littered with what looked like a fuck ton of papers, scratch that bills. Y/n looked up at Carmen who looked…ashamed. She took a deep breath before sitting down on the chair and looked up at Carmen waiting for him to give her a rundown of everything. They were behind on every bill imaginable, they hadn’t been able to pay vendors, and there were quotes for broken machines. Looks like Carmen’s brother left him a real shit show.

This felt like winning the lottery, not only was she seeing an interesting puzzle for her to solve, she was able to see Carmen look human for once. It was a shame, however, that the only human emotion that he was showing was stress but something was better than nothing. One thing that was untouched was the payroll, he never was behind on paying his workers, y/n felt a slight tug in her chest but she ignored that.

He looked down at her, and asked, “I’m going to leave this with you…umm….” And then he left the kitchen. Y/n starting grabbing floating folders and organizing. Most of the stuff was kinda sorted, but stuff like old payroll documents were in a file called “shit”, so she thought a total revamp was necessary.

It felt like y/n was an intern again, resigned to tedious work. After a few hours and a quick trip to Staples for office supplies, she had made the cluttered desk look like her old desk in the French Laundry…empty, sterile, cold.

With a deep breath she left the kitchen to find Sydney so she could unlock her car so that y/n could grab her laptop. The heat was bad, but the yelling was mind scrambling. It felt like she was dropped in a war zone trying to find where she parked her car, an innocent civilian amongst the war torn soldiers. She couldn’t be here any longer, she practically ran over to Sydney and asked for her car keys and was mindlessly directed to some lockers. Y/n could tell that she was busy so she didn’t ask which one in particular.

She started opening random lockers, and after her third one she saw a familiar sight. A brown wool jacket, the same one she had seen Carmen wear in New York, she quickly shut the door. This was too much, he was becoming a bit too human, too real. She finally found the right locker and rushed to get her laptop and the rest of her luggage and shut the office door.

She spent the first quarter of her day digitizing payroll as a quick warm up, she had a feeling that she would need it.

Y/n moved on to a leather bound book under a gas bill and after a quick glance she knew that this was going to be a fucking disaster. Whoever did the books used different coloured pens, was writing outside the lines, circling stuff randomly, doodling, and this was just the visual disaster, the closer she looked at the chicken scratch the more she realized how deep in debt this palace was. Thousands of dollars were being drained seemingly randomly and then money was being put back just as chaotically. There was no record of how the money was being spent or where the money was coming from. Even though y/n didn’t know Carmen very well she knew he would never do this, it was that brother of his. The inside of the cover said Micheal Berzzato.

She spent the rest of the day organizing the accounts payable and receivables. It was like trying to go through a dense forest with a pair of nail clippers but she got through a fraction of it. She already knew that the money wouldn’t add up and that if they got audited, the restaurant would be in deep shit.

She had her headphones in and nearly fell off her chair if Carmen didn’t brace her when he came in unannounced. Her heart practically shot out of her ass but she pulled herself together.

“I thought you would have left by now.”

Y/n looked at the time on her laptop and saw that it was 11:30pm, she was a bit impressed with herself. Look at me Carmen, I can also throw myself at my work and I didn’t need people to think I'm God’s gift to man.

“I lost track of time, is the restaurant still open?” Carmen shook his head. Y/n sat up and ushered him to the chair. She didn’t like it when people hovered over her and she wanted Carmen to look up at her for once. She placed her left hand on the back of his chair and her right on the laptop’s trackpad.

“Your payroll needed to be updated, no one does this on paper anymore.” Y/n showed him how to move things around, how to change certain information, etc and she was expecting him to half heartedly listen but was pleasantly surprised when he sat there and listened. He asked meaningful questions which almost made her fall over, he wanted to learn and that was very… admirable. Y/n had to snap herself out of it, of course he was listening, she was brought here to fix and teach, and she wasn’t cheap either.

She then directed him to the organized files and how to maintain file organization in case he was ever audited. He stared with such intensity that she had to turn around and pretend that she was looking for a file. She spent her entire career working in a building where almost no one knew her name, or really looked at her. The chefs were busy with their eye filets and lobster to look at her, management spoke to her through emails but now she was center stage which was making it hard to focus.

She ended her presentation with a short run down of the order that he should pay off certain bills based on priority. She finally looked down at him and was surprised that he was still looking back at her.

“Wow…all that in a day?” Y/n only presented 50% of the work she did today, omitting the illicit money transactions Micheal had orchestrated, and here Carmen was looking at her like she was God’s gift to him.

“It’s going to take a while to decipher this,” holding up the leather book, “but it's not impossible.”

Carmen parted his lips before closing them a few times, “How long can you stay here? Like how many vacation days did you take?”

Y/n debated telling him that she still had a job back home but there really wasn’t any point in lying to make herself look good for Carmen. Y/n was never one to be unnecessarily cruel, just a bit of a nuisance, so she would give him a bit of satisfaction. It was to make up for what she put him through in New York. She pretended to search for something on her laptop while avoiding Carmen’s eyes beneath her.

“I don’t work there anymore.” Carmen’s head shot up and he wondered if he had heard that correctly. He wanted to ask why she left but he knew that would be crossing a line.

“What are your future plans?” Y/n looked up and wondered that as well.

She knew she had to leave French Laundry, she hated the long hours, overbearing bosses, and most of all she hated the people she worked with. There was a team of accountants who worked near her and even though she did the majority of the work she always had to fight to get a seat at the table. She was smart, talented, and competent but she was always officially relegated to payroll even when she was the one who spent weeks organizing binders filled with projection just for some jackass to get the credit. The issue wasn’t just her coworkers but her bosses that assumed that someone else had done the research and let her present, and infuriatingly no one ever corrected management. Add all of that with the loss of what she considered her only acquaintance, she ran as fast as she could.

As for future plans, she had enough money to live a relatively nice life even if she didn’t find work for a year. She hated the French Laundry but she couldn’t sell them short, they paid her very well.

“I don’t know, I will probably have to find a new job.” That piqued Carmen’s interest, he assumed that she had another job lined up because y/n didn’t seem like the type to get up and leave without an exit strategy.

“If you're interested…” Carmen didn’t want to get his hopes up but he knew that he needed her here, this couldn’t work without someone like her. “You can always work here.”

Carmen’s head was swimming, if she said yes that would make his life a million times easier. He might actually be able to sleep a full eight hours.

Y/n didn’t really know how to respond, she didn’t hate the idea. “Am I going to be the only one working finance here?” Carmen’s chest fell, of course this was too much for one person.

“Yeah but if you need more peo-”

“Just me is fine. I don’t like working with other people.” Clear and blunt, y/n didn’t want to waste his time.

“Yeah..” Carmen looked one last look at the computer screen with the filled excel sheets that transformed his brother’s horrible business practices to legible spreadsheets and he knew he definitely needed her.

“What time do you want me to come tomorrow?”

“Whenever is good for you?”

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows. “You are paying for my services so act like it.” What she said was rude and slightly uncalled for.

Carmen looked up at her and felt like he was back in New York again, like when he was too scared to talk to her or when he would catch her glaring at him from the corner of his eye. Carmen knew she didn’t like him but if he needed her so what could he do, most of his staff already hated him so what was one more.

Y/n sighed, she tried to intimidate him to force him to toughen up but it looks like it just made him clam up. “That was really rude for me to say, but I think you need to hear it.” Y/n had a feeling that he was going to remember this so she thought she started to do damage control.

“All I ever hear about your food is how amazing and jaw dropping and delicious and mind blowing it is. You are very..” Y/n struggled to find a neutral word that would allow her to lift his spirits but not too high, “..competent. Your staff however…”

That got Carmen to pick up his head, “They are goo-”

“And I bet they are good but you can’t do your job and show off their skills and talents if they all walk around you like that. Can I be frank with you?” Carmen slowly nodded his head.

“I don’t see your restaurant lasting very long with the crew you have here.” Carmen knew that but hearing it out loud stung. “You have to make a few changes, either swap out a few annoying chefs or make them change.”

A few hours prior, y/n’s curiosity had gotten the best of her and she looked through Sydney’s resume. It was stacked with good restaurants and she even had a brief stint at catering, y/n didn’t hesitate to admit that Sydney was just as capable as Carmen.

“Get Sydney more involved, she can do much more than what you have her doing now.” Y/n saw Sdyney’s pay which showed that she was getting paid a regular chef salary, she deserved sous-chef. Carmen nodded his head but he was looking away, in his mind he wondered how she could possibly even know that while sitting in his office all day.

“They’re used to doing things a certain way.”

“I'm guessing fear is not your management style.” Y/n pondered how she would fix a situation like this if she was in his shoes. “I would say avoid baptism by fire.”

Y/n continued, “It's going to be a mess but you just need to lead the kitchen like you did in New York for the first few days and then transfer the responsibility to Sydney who will be watching the entire time so she isn’t thrown into a pile of shit on her first day and quit. That way you can continue to do whatever you were doing in New York.”

It had never occurred to Carmen that y/n didn’t know what he did, but then again he barely knew what she did. He would watch her typing away or he would hear fragments of urgent phone calls about audits, and give out checks. But other than that he didn’t know what she did for the rest of her day, so he had to swallow his discontentment with her not noticing him because he was no better than her.

“I think you need to expect more from people, you don’t have to do everything by yourself.” Y/n concluded.

It was quiet barring the sound of the lights buzzing. Just as y/n was about to slip out, Carmen swiftly stood up and walked out the office towards the kitchen and started pulling out bowls.

“I thought you said that this place was closed, what are you making?”

“What do you want to eat?” Carmen wasn’t looking at her as he grabbed a knife and a cutting board.

“Umm…You don’t need-”

“Give me something, y/n”

“It's late, Carmen.”

“You’ve been here all day and you didn’t eat anything…” Y/n gave him a disapproving look.

“Y/n.” He asserted, she couldn’t leave in good faith without eating something.

She didn’t fail to notice that when he lost control back in the office he came rushing out to re-assert his power by forcing her to eat something he was going to make.

“I don’t know…something easy and wont fuck up my stomach.” Y/n conceded.

Carmen smirked, and y/n was able to appreciate his objective handsomeness. After a few minutes of chopping she was presented with a simple salad.

“I tried to replicate the salad dressing from what I smelled from the last time I went to your office.” Y/n was shocked, she didn’t know that he noticed stuff like that, she was also amused that he had a great nose, both functionally and aesthetically.

Y/n was also surprised when Carmen asked her, “Why did you leave?”

“Why did you?” Y/n countered, she knew the answer but she assumed that he wouldn’t tell her. This felt like a decent way to manufacture some space. One step forward for making a meal and 2 steps back for asking probing questions.

“My brother used to own this place…and he died…killed himself.” Carmen was full of surprises today.

Y/n mumbled out, “I hated working there so much I would crawl out of bed hoping that I would fall, crack my head open and never have to step foot in there anymore… I would be gagging a block away from work every single day because I couldn’t stomach another second in my office.”

Y/n assumed that Carmen couldn’t relate, he was a god back in New York.

“I used to throw up every morning.” Y/n put her fork down and looked up at Carmen who continued. “And I would get these heat flashes while I was there even when the kitchen was like negative three-thousand fucking degrees.”

They were never good enough.

It was an embarrassing thing for both of them to admit, they tried to survive in New York and failed because they were weak, but at least they were in good company.

“My boss was a dick. He used to say crazy shit just to get a rise out of me.” Y/n didn’t know that Carmen had a boss, she just assumed that he ran the kitchen.

“Who was your boss?” Y/n went down her rolodex of names before landing on, “That guy with the huge forehead?”

Carmen covered his mouth with his hand but she knew there was a smile underneath. She was able to get a good look at his tattoo, she had only caught glimpses when he would grab an envelope from her or hold the door. At the time she thought it was out of place but seeing the whole picture, Carmen with his wavy hair, gold chain, smirk, and arm littered with tattoos she realized that she was missing out on a lot.

Y/n finished her salad and helped him clean up before they locked up the restaurant and Carmen stuffed her luggage in the trunk.

“You’ve seen our books..”

Y/n gave a small hum.

“So you know that we can’t put you in a hotel for weeks.”

“If I'm not staying at a hotel, where am I going?” Y/n was ready to jump out of the car if he said his house.

“I have a family friend of a friend who is visiting family down in Florida, and she said you can stay there.”

A weight was lifted off of y/n shoulders, y/n was feeling bold, “You’ve ever been to Florida?”

“I went once to check out a few restaurants when I was younger, you?” Y/n hid it well but she was shaking in nerves because it was the first time in years that she was getting some small talk out of him.

“I went to Disney with my family and got a heat stroke. How long is your family friend of a friend staying in Florida?”

“More than 2 months later, she left like a few days ago.” That caused some concern for y/n, she was going to stay in a house that had been abandoned for a few days in a new city, it was like the beginning of a B - rated horror film. The possibility of a serial killer waiting to turn her into a lamp shade was probably close to zero but it still freaked her out. Carmen pulled into the driveway carrying all of her bags leaving her with just her purse.

They approached the front of the house and Carmen opened the door and started placing the suitcases near the entryway, and y/n kept the door open, and Carmen got the hint. She wasn’t going to forge some type of artificial connection by asking him to help her walk through the house for any intruders because that would require her to rely on him.

To y/n, Carmen was unreliable, he could ignore her for years, only to suddenly offer her rides and engage in small talk. What puzzled her even more was his transition from avoiding eye contact to intensely staring her down. Y/n could tell from the sound that leaked from under the office door that he had an underlying temper, a bad one too. She didn’t want to be swept up in his current and be left high and dry. He seemed like he picked up things quickly and left them just as sporadically. While she recognized his passion for food and cooking, ensuring her job stability, Carmen was…unsteady.

Y/n knew people like him, people who hurt those who were close to them when they felt trapped. What feared y/n the most was what would eventually come out of her mouth if they ever got too close and Carmen said something to make her go away. He would say something vile and y/n would probably say that he is nothing, or that he is a failure, or that it should have been him and not his brother.

The thought of saying something so profoundly awful and untrue haunted her, making it impossible for her to bear the weight on her conscience. She had crossed that line before and was acutely aware of her limits. Carmen represented that limit—a boundary she couldn't afford to cross—rendering him off-limits in her life.

Carmen left a quiet goodbye and y/n gave him one back before shutting the door grabbing a knife and going through each of the rooms herself. She didn’t need him or anyone.

Once she went through the house with a fine tooth comb she locked herself in one of the bedrooms, got ready for bed. Her lease in New York expired in a few weeks so she knew she had to fly back to grab her stuff. She couldn’t sleep in this grandma’s house any longer so she grabbed her laptop and started looking for apartments.

Y/n woke up to the sound of her alarm and she felt nauseous before she remembered that she wasn’t crawling back to the French Laundry, she was trying something new. She got ready and spent the whole morning calling realtors and scheduling showings. She took the train to The Beef and when she came in, it looked like they were about to have some type of meeting outfront. Y/n slipped into the office and was momentarily shocked that Carmen was there. She put her bag behind the chair while Carmen was sitting, subtly telling him to fuck off and that this was her desk now. Carmen got up, “What a good boy? So smart”, y/n chuckled in her head.

“What is happening out front? Do I need to sit in?”

“We need to introduce you and we are going to transition to a french brigade, I just spoke to Sydney..”

“How did she take it? You told her you were going to take the lead or did-?”

Carmen was checking his watch obsessively, “She will be fine.” Looks like Carmen was in a hurry and so y/n didn’t even wait for Carmen to open the door before she walked over to the meeting.

She didn’t sit down because there wasn’t a chair for her. She saw the other chefs look at her but no one bothered to ask any questions. Sydney was standing right next to her and y/n saw that she was rehearsing her lines that were written in a small black notebook.

“Don’t mention the role titles, it's just going to scare them off.” Sydney looked up at her. “And keep it short and don’t fumble your words, you’ll sound like a fourth grader.” Sydney opened her mouth but was cut off by Carmen walking out front.

Carmen started explaining about how they were getting new aprons, how he wanted to reorganize the kitchen, and how they needed to be clean. He did not yet explain the elephant in the room to the rest of the chefs; who was y/n and what the hell is she doing here? Carmen was interrupted by a tall man walking in very late.

He took one look at y/n before pointing at her with a coffee cup, “Who are you? Cousin, why are you collecting women?”

“I am y/n, I am the new accountant.” Any form of teasing and snickering died down as a new worry washed over the staff, if Carmen was changing everything he might start changing staff. If y/n could sense it, then so could Carmen and just as she looked up to him for support he quickly excused himself because he had somewhere to be. He just left her to deal with this mess. See? Not stable.

“Do you have any questions for me?”

“Your not fucking firing anyone.” The tall guy threatened.

“Nobody is getting fired, no one is getting a pay cut and no one is getting replaced. If anything like that happens, that is Carmen’s decision.” Y/n allowed herself to throw Carmen under the bus just once because he left her.

“I’ll just be keeping the books in order.”

“Richie, sit down.” An older woman instructed.

“Carmen said something about a French brigade, it's essentially what you guys are doing just with more defined roles, it's not too different. Sydney will elaborate.” Y/n though she did an acceptable job not throwing Sydney head first like Carmen did and Sydney seemed to be a lot more comfortable then she was a few minutes ago. She didn’t title drop and she didn’t fumble. The crew was obviously annoyed but it was over quickly and Sydeny walked over to y/n.

They walked into the kitchen and Sydeny was feeling overwhelmed because Carmen wasn’t here like he said that he would be.

“Thanks for the pointers”

“No problem. Do you need me to help?” Y/n had seen the inner workings of a kitchen before, granted it had been many years prior and in a different restaurant then the French Laundry but she thought that she would be better support then Carmen, who wasn’t even there.

Y/n spent most of her time calling out orders, tracking what was sent out and doing quality checks, it wasn’t rocket science and she never understood why all those male chefs were screaming all the time, Sydney walked around and did her job as sous-chef. Overall, a very calm transition barring a few hiccups. A few of the chefs tried to steal some onions and y/n had to leave her station and tell them to basically fuck off. Sydney was already tense and doing stupid shit like that would send her over the edge.

The lunch rush was over and y/n was finally reprieved from her duties. She needed some air so she walked outside and into an alley where she saw Carmen.

She was beyond pissed at him, and the sight of him made her boil in rage but she couldn’t leave based on principle.

“How was Sydney?” Carmen asked. Y/n felt like murdering him. She took a few deep breaths before continuing to speak. He wouldn't listen to her if she screamed at him.

“You should have been there.” Y/n said with a bit of an edge.

It was quiet for a long time. Y/n put her head back.

“I went to an Al-Anon meeting, my brother was an addict. It’s his birthday today”

“How often are the meetings? Once a week?” Carmen nodded.

“Did it maybe occur to you to push back the transition one more day so you didn’t leave Sydney alone?” Y/n said calmly and with no malice, she was so exhausted from her lack of sleep, food, and being on her feet all day.

Carmen didn’t say anything, so y/n continued, “You're a steam roller. You don’t listen to other people and you don't think of other people. You left Sydney to drown, that wasn’t great. Not to mention you didn’t even introduce me.”

Carmen's gaze bore into her with undeniable intensity, yet y/n was too upset with him to be swayed by any semblance of attraction.

“I’ll do better. I’ll listen and be there.”

“We’ll see.” Saying you were going to change was different than actually changing.

In an attempt to lighten the mood, she graced him with a small smile. "You know, your job isn't that tough," she playfully teased, tilting her head back slightly.

“Really?” Carmen thought she was being serious.

“No kidding, you should hand me your apron and the deed to this restaurant because I just killed it today.” Carmen caught on.

“What did you do today?”

“Called out orders, made sure things were leaving the kitchen, blah blah blah. Honestly, it's kind of fun. It's like those restaurant management phone games, do you ever play those?”

“That would hit a little too close to home.” Y/n snickered.

“My head is spinning and I didnt even start the work I'm supposed to do today.” Y/n sat up with a sigh.

“What do you eat?” Y/n didn’t respond. Carmen got up and came back a few minutes later with a plate of food.

Y/n finished eating before walking inside and finishing up her actual work. The day ended and she was once again the last one left barring Carmen, who offered to drive her back.

As they both sat in the quiet car y/n spoke up, “I have to go back to New York.” Carmen’s grip tightened around the wheel.

“I said I would do better.”

“I'm not leaving permanently, I need to grab my stuff and tell my landlord that I am leaving.”

Carmen’s grip loosened, “You found a place here already?”

“I have a few candidates. I might have to leave in the afternoons for a few weeks to check out some places, I'll be back in an hour or two.”

The rest of the ride was quiet, he dropped her off and y/n crashed into bed.

Y/n had already been working for a few weeks when she came back to a dark restaurant. She walked in and saw Carmen and Fak talking, “ I thought you had a connection.”

“Yeah, I definitely, definitely did not.” Which was followed by more whispering and then a loud, “Fuck” from Carmen.

“What’s happening?” Carmen shot a look at Fak that sent him away and Carmen gave her a quick run down, the power was out and they needed 5,500 dollars to repair.

“There isn’t any money in the budget but maybe if you finance…” Carmen looked around to check if anyone was there before directing her to his office. Y/n turned on her phone flashlight so they could see.

“I’m going to ask you something, and it's completely hypothetical. Like not even a little bit true and you can tell me what the outcome would be.” Y/n nodded her head.

“Suppose we had a way to get the money but it wasn’t completely…legal…hypothetically. I'm not asking anything illegal because this is hypothetical… but what would happen to the books hypothetically?”

“You can talk like a regular fucking person, you know, I'm not going to snitch. Do you need me to fix some books?”

“I shouldn't have said anything.” Carmen started walking towards the door and y/n grabbed his shirt and pushed him towards the chair. He looked up at her and the phone light made her look like a prophecy discovered in a dream, so angel-like. Her words, not so much.

“You brother died so any fuck up that he did will result in us having to pay a fine which is not the end of the world, but if you fuck up… then thats malice and its jail time plus a fine…”

Y/n knew it was harsh so she softened her voice before uttering, “Let me help you, I want to help you.” Carmen was having a hard time focusing, she wanted to help him which means that she cared about him. Maybe her words were like an angel.

“Is it a one time payment or is it…” Camen wasn’t responding, he was just looking up at her. Before she could ask what his problem was, he interrupted.

“I have to ask Richie.” Carmen peeled himself off the chair and opened the door for y/n. They walked to the front where y/n saw Richie and Fak were glaring at each other. Carmen and y/n took a seat.

“What is she doing here?” Richie said while not hiding his disdain for her.

“She has to make this legal.” Carmen explained.

Rcihie signaled for Carmen and Fak to come closer. “WHY DID YOU BRING A FUCKING NARC HERE?” Richie yelled into Carmen’s ears which made him reel back and clutch his ear. Y/n had to look away to hide her laughter.

Carmen rushed to her defense, “She isn’t-”

“I won't. I'm just going to clean it up and we will never have to talk about it again.”

“We can’t trust her, why would you fucking bring her?” He asked Carmen who repeated what she said to him in the office about malice and jail.

“I know you don’t trust me but I need this place running so that everyone here has a job next month. I don’t even need to know how you got it.”

Richie looked like he was thinking, before he threatened, “If you squeal i’m going to put your head on a fucking stick.” He looked like he was apprehensive but realized that this was the only way to protect Carmen so he had to risk trusting her.

Y/n didn’t pay attention to their little squabble afterwards, but then the lights flickered on. They were back in business. Carmen slammed his palms on the counter and exclaimed a relieved, “Fuck” which made y/n short circuit for a second. It was nice to hear him happy for a change.

The rest of the day was spent creating fake receipts and adjusting inventory to account for the new money. It was busy work and after a long time, Carmen came into her office, it was her office for sure, squatters rights.

“Are we good?”

“The IRS will be none the wiser…” Y/n said she wouldn’t ask but the curiosity was killing her.

“How did you guys get the money?”

“I don’t want to put you in deeper shit and this isn’t your scene.” He looked like he regret dragging her into his mess in the first place.

“Did you know when I was younger I used to shoplift.” Carmen looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

“You don’t need to lie to-.”

“I used to walk into stores and steal, I had the money to buy stuff but sometimes I just felt like taking something…so I did.” She wanted to be on an even playing ground as him so he wouldn’t hesitate to come to her in case something like this happened again. She couldn’t do her job if he hid stuff from her.

“You want to know what the most expensive thing I stole?”

“I still don’t believe you stole anything.” He said with a laugh.

“I stole someone’s wallet. It had $527 dollars and a bunch of credit cards, Ethan Thompson. Slid it right out of his pocket.”

“What did you do with the money?” Carmen asked. Y/n debated lying but she thought honesty was how he would learn to trust her.

“I didn’t spend it, I waited outside till he came out and gave the wallet back. Told him that he dropped it. It was the only thing I ever gave back.” Carmen stared at her with a bewildered expression before laughing into his palm.

“That seems like something you would do.”

“Why do you say that?” Y/n was offended that he was insinuating that she was a loser.

“You are honest to a fault. Brutally honest.”

“It's hard work but I try. Would you have returned it?” Carmen nodded his head.

“Yeah, I bet you would have gone the extra mile and turned it into the police.”

A lull of silence passed and it was clear that Carmen wasn’t going to tell her so she switched topics.

“I don’t want to be mean, but sometimes that's the only way I can get people to listen to me…I’ve been working on it.”

Carmen didn’t want to be a smart-ass and say that he noticed a significant difference from her behavior towards him now compared to New York. She didn’t look like she was disgusted by him anymore. A bit of him wondered if he could change as effortlessly as y/n, she made it look so easy.

“By the way…I'm going to take this office. Like it's mine now.” Carmen wondered if she was joking because she had a smile on her face.

“If you want it, take it. I never want to see another spreadsheet in my life.” If y/n smiled at him like that it would be nearly impossible for him to say no to anything. It was like finally getting her approval after working hard to get it in New York, like when he used to wake up early so he could walk in with her and open the door for her.

There was a lull of and just as Carmen was going to fill it with a probing question y/n beat him to it.

"Was it a murder-for-hire?" Y/n inquired, but Carmen remained silent, his expression unreadable.

"Sex work? Tax evasion? Robbery? Drugs?..." y/n continued, listing off possibilities, and in that moment, Carmen's lips tightened imperceptibly. It was a subtle movement, one that might have gone unnoticed by most, but for y/n, it was captivating, drawing her further into his enigmatic presence.

“Drugs.” She said with a slight smile,

“I'm not admitting to anything. Did you find a place you liked?” Carmen wanted to distract her but he also wanted to keep her here longer and he finally had the confidence and momentum to keep her talking.

“I found one, it’s like 20 minutes from here. One-bedroom but it looks much better than my shit box in New York. And they are going to hold it for a while while i get my shit from back home”

“What neighborhood?” Carmen’s heart leaped when she said the same neighborhood that he stayed in, but he controlled himself.

“That new building? I walk past it everyday.” Carmen didn’t offer to carpool because he didn’t want to hear a rejection. That would kill any confidence he might have gained in the last few weeks.

“We're neighbors, that's nice. You have a car, can we carpool?” Carmen wondered if she could read minds.

“I get here early and leave late-”

“I’ll just come and go when you do. I don’t have anything else to do in Chicago anyways…I booked a flight for tomorrow morning to get my stuff.” She moves fast Carmen thought. It was admirable how she knew what she wanted, planned her moves and executed them in record time. He wondered if she ever panicked and fumbled like he did, if she did he never saw it.

“What time is your flight?”

“Seven”

“I can drive you.” Y/n wondered if this was too much, she didn’t want to rely on him.

“I’ll take a cab, you have to be here for Sydney.” She didn’t leave Carmen any room to argue.

The next couple of months were much better than Carmen thought was possible. Y/n had engrained herself in their team, and Carmen was able to get his eight hours of sleep every night. They finally had enough money to not feel like the whole restaurant was going to crash and burn.

Sydney had brought up the idea of to-go orders placed through a tablet and after much deliberation and consulting with y/n, he decided to give it ago.

Y/n had stepped out to sign for delivery and was making some pleasant conversation before she heard some commotion from the kitchen. She bid the delivery man a goodbye before walking in to see what the situation was.

Y/n had never seen the kitchen in such chaos since her first day. Carmen's voice reverberated, barking out orders, while Sydney unleashed her own tirade upon Marcus for mishandling the cake cutting. Tension hung heavily in the air, thickening the atmosphere. It was clear to y/n that this wouldn’t end well. Jogging over to Sweeps, who thankfully wasn't completely overwhelmed, she learned that Sydney had messed up the to-go order settings, resulting in a barrage of pre-orders due within a few minutes. Y/n hesitated for a moment, positioning herself in a corner, desperately searching for a way to be of use amidst the chaos. With her limited culinary skills, she felt somewhat helpless, unsure of where she could provide the most assistance.

“Um, I’m doing them in five–” Sydney stuttered.

“No, no, stop. Fire everything right fucking now!”

“Step out.” He was interrupted by Sydney’s excuses.

“GET THE FUCK OFF MY EXPO, CHEF, NOW!” That made y/n jump, she heard him yell before but this was a lot worse, the shock made it impossible for her to look anywhere but the back of his head.

Just as things looked like they couldn't get worse she heard a loud crash and saw two cakes on the floor. Y/n rushed over there to de-escalate and practically had to rip Sydney away from Richie.

“I said corner.” Richie said childishly. Y/n was starting to feel like a babysitter. And just as y/n was about to run over to her office to hide, she hears Sydney snap at Tina. Y/n guides Tina away from Sydney.

“Somebody get me a fucking sharpie!” Carmen bellowed and y/n ran to the office and pulled out a few and placed them in front of Carmen then walked back to her little corner. She heard that Richie and Sydney were at it again, sensing that round two was going to be worse she had to go check on that mess. Sydney is harping on and on about how much of a loser Richie and y/n was forced to step in when she hears Sydney talk about Richie’s daughters while waving a knife.

“What the fuck are you guys’ doing? We do not have the time for your asinine bullshit?” Sydney doesn’t even look over and y/n had to tug at Richie to get him to step down, normally y/n would appeal to Sydney’s good graces but she couldn’t go near her when she was waving a knife around.

“Richie, why don’t we take a step back and-” y/n asked.

“WHY ARE YOU FUCKING WITH ME!” Y/n turned her head and saw Carmen squishing something Marcus gave him before throwing it on the floor.

“Yo, Cousin, just fuckin chill-” Richie stepped back and even when she saw where the knife was headed she was to slow to do anything. Richie walked into the knife and blood started pouring out.

Y/n felt her breath pick up, her palms started to itch, and she was seeing double. She fought her nerves and led Richie to the front where Ebra would dress his wounds. Y/n didn’t want to look at Richie’s bare ass but she had to make sure it wasn’t bad enough to warrant a hospital trip, it didn’t and y/n saw that as a complete win.

Y/n ran back to the kitchen towards Sydney where she was sitting near the lockers. She was about to leave.

“We need you, you can’t leave. Tell me what I need to do to fix this.” Y/n desperate, she knew the face of someone who had given up and she saw it all over Sydney.

“He is being a little bitch.” Y/n didn’t know how to fix Carmen’s attitude so she did the next best thing, stall.

“Please, give me a day to fix this. I’ll have him come around and apologize, I'll make him regret even getting out of bed. Just please stay till this blows over. We need you. Please.” Y/n was beyond desperate, she couldn't stand doing Carmen’s job of managing his team but she forced herself to pull through. Sydney backed down and went to the sink to wash her knife before going back to prep.

Y/n hears Carmen walk over to Sydney and ask, “We good, chef?”, who wasn’t responding. This bastard was so incredibly dense y/n almost wanted Sydney to blow up in his stupid face and maybe stab him in the ass too but she denied herself that pleasure and quickly diverted Carmen over to the expo.

“Now is not the time. Do this later… Please.” Y/n was grasping at straws here and she wasn’t even given the satisfaction of being able to yell at someone. Carmen went back to his expo but not before bending down and eating something off the floor. He has definitely lost it, y/n muttered.

She went to find Marcus who was just about to leave. She thanked him for today and apologized on Carmen’s behalf. Y/n didn’t want to be a bitch but Marcus was not high on her priority list right now, him leaving would let her deal with less people and make her job easier.

She ran out front to check up on Richie again. “Please tell me you're okay.” He gave a small laugh and then a grunt. She saw that he was grasping an empty carton of cigarettes.

Y/n didn’t know how, but the storm passed and the doors opened for customers. Y/n slipped out and bought a carton of cigarettes and some painkillers from a nearby gas station and handed them over to Richie.

“I know this isn’t even a good enough apology but I’m really sorry about today.”

“You didn’t do anything.”

“You're not going to get an apology from Sydney for a while so let my apology be a placeholder.” Y/n rounded her eyes and tried to see if there was any residual tension from this morning and to her relief Richie was fine.

“Tell me if you need something.” She then went back to the kitchen and Sydney was still cutting stuff and Carmen was yelling out orders with less fury. Y/n wasn’t going to have anything positive to say to either of them so she would wait till after the lunch rush. She slipped back to the front and sat on a bar stool with her laptop. She couldn’t face either of the chefs right now.

Looking at Sydney was difficult, and the longer that y/n waited out front with Richie to make sure he didn’t die of blood loss while manning the front, the more pissed she got at Sydney for not having the decency to come out to check up on Richie or even apologize.

Looking at Carmen was even more difficult, a part of y/n wanted to be proven wrong about her previous notions about pretentious chefs. But both Sydney and Carmen were the only one’s screaming and that because they felt like they were entitled to it, that they were the only ones who were allowed to be stressed and upset. They were selfish and that was a painful thing for y/n to admit about Carmen because that meant that his promise to change when she first came here was a lie. He couldn’t handle any type of stress without flipping out and she wondered if this was even the right profession for him.

The lunch crowd died down and she directed Sydney towards her office and shut the door, “You want to tell me what happened today?” Y/n faked the sincerity, Sydney wouldn’t talk if y/n was hostile.

“Carmen was being a dick. Everyone else is dealing with the same shit but now…” Y/n didn’t want to hear anything else for her.

“How is Richie?” Y/n asked with a bit of an edge.

“He walked into my kni-”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I don’t know, okay? But it was his fault,” Y/n had to remind herself to take a few deep breaths, she wouldn’t let her anger get the best of her and she would refrain from yelling.

“When you finish with your shift, can you please talk to Richie, at least pretend like you care that you stabbed someone.”

“He called me a bitch and was all over my station, he deserved it, ”

“You deserved to be called more than a bitch.” Y/n regretted the words as soon as they came out but she wasn’t going to lose face. Sydney looked shocked but y/n kept her face stoic.

“Talk to him.”

Sydney didn’t respond but y/n knew she wouldn’t talk to Richie.

Y/n felt her blood bubbling, “You could move to fucking Timbuktu and be a chef there and you still wouldn’t rise above average, do you know why?” Y/n didn’t give her a chance to answer.

“It's because you are the problem, you are selfish and you don’t think. You can quit here and never look back and you know what is going to happen next? You're going to find another job and then leave that job and then find another job and leave that one too and keep doing that till you die.” It was getting harder for y/n to breathe. It felt like the walls were closing in.

“I have been gracious enough to give you the space to grow, I told Carmen to make you sous but every second that I take my eyes off either of you, it's like shit hits the fan. Are neither of you capable of doing your jobs?” Y/n was ranting.

“If today was so bad that you have to make someone else's life miserable and then whine about yourself, you shouldn’t even be allowed to work in soup kitchens.” Y/n took a painful deep breath, her head was spinning and she was suppressing the urge to start dry-heaving.

“You will forever be nothing unless you change, you are impatient, selfish, whiny, annoying, vindictive, and…and..” Y/n had to end on a good note or else Sydney might actually quit.

“..capable of doing better. I have seen the way you cook and manage a kitchen when it's not a shit storm. I bet in a few years you're going to make Carmen’s food taste like MREs. You are destined for good things but that will only happen when you grow up.”

Sydney was quiet before she stomped out of y/n’s office and slammed the door shut.

Y/n sank down onto the floor, her breaths coming in shallow gasps. It was as if she had been transported back to New York, constantly juggling her and her co-worker’s workload and assuming the role of the villain. She desperately sought control, but the grip of the panic attack tightened its hold, leaving her feeling vulnerable and exposed. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision as she fought to regain control over her racing thoughts. It was an exhausting battle, one that felt all too familiar. She grasped at the chair trying to stay up right but after a few moments of dizziness, she slipped to the ground.

She was keenly aware that she couldn't single-handedly orchestrate transformative change in just a few short months but she thought that Carmen would at least learn to step up. She longed for a sense of calm and it burned to know that Carmen was incapable of being that for her now. The knowledge weighed heavily on y/n's heart. The realization that Carmen, the one person she had hoped could offer her some semblance of stability and support because he said he would, was not yet equipped to be that pillar for her. It was a painful acknowledgement, one that underscored the inherent instability that defined their dynamic. Carmen was not stable.

Y/n took a few deep breaths, wiped her tears, and stood up after pushing her sadness and disappointment with Sydney and, more importantly, Carmen in a deep crevice in her mind.

The kitchen had lost two chefs but it was still running smoothly because it was a slow day. Y/n discreetly circled the kitchen, she made a conscious effort to conceal the fact that her blood was boiling, striving to maintain composure amidst the chaos.

And just as she was about to retreat to her office, the man of the fucking hour decided to show up.

“Bad news guys, we have to close for dinner today because we are having a bachelor party in the front.” Y/n looked at a few sips of water, she needed to ground herself and resist throwing the cup of ice water in his face. Carmen glanced up at her and was met with the same eyes from New York, the ones which were glaring at him, disgusted with him, hated him. Y/n walked over to the alley and Carmen followed her even when she didn’t ask.

Y/n indicated that he sat down with a pointed look with her eyes, y/n stayed standing.

“I was hired to be your accountant, but today I was playing babysitter for a bunch of grown fucking adults. Why am I walking around your kitchen and apologising to your fucking staff while you do absolutely nothing.” She took a staggered breath.

"They were goddamn pre-orders, for crying out loud! If they were a little late, it's not like a customer would barge into the fucking kitchen to hang you. You guys have already had a C health rating and got into a fight with some customers a while back, so clearly customer satisfaction isn’t the issue.” The corners of her eyes were turning hazy.

“Why the hell do other people have to clean up your damn mess? How hard would it have been for you to tell Richie to inform the customers that the orders were going to be a bit late?” Carmen didn’t look up, keeping his focus on y/n’s shoes.

“Not fucking difficult at all, its like…like you wanted an excuse to be a prick.”

“Its your fucking entitlement, you are just like Sydney. You are selfish and you will never amount to anything unless you learn to deal with your problems. I mean this in the most blunt and sincere way possible: go to fucking therapy. If money's a problem, I'll foot the bill. I want you to go there and let them throw every damn thing they have at you, from drawing pictures to giving you a fucking lobotomy." Y/n’s face was getting hot and she could feel her forehead burn up.

“You are running a kitchen in a shitty neighborhood with people who would be happy if you served them insulation in between two pieces of drywall, it has never and will never be that serious.” Y/n gave herself some time to breathe before giving him a little bit more.

“You’re the head of the kitchen, you're supposed to be everyone’s support. You have to be…s-stable.” It was difficult for y/n to choke out that word, it hurt too much. “Your team shouldn’t have to walk on fucking eggshells when things get tough.”

“You promised me that you would do better, that is the whole reason I chose to stay. Did you know that I was going to tell you that I changed my mind after I accepted your job offer? I didn’t because you promised you would be better…do better.” Y/n knew there was some stuff she missed but she was exhausted and wanted to go back. She uncrossed her arms and knew that it was time to do some damage control again.

They stayed in silence for a long time before y/n let out a deep sigh, “I'm sorry, it's just… today was a lot when it really didn’t need to be.” Y/n sat down right next to Carmen, she gave him a few inches of space, he still wasn’t looking at her.

Carmen did well with praise y/n recalled, “You are a very talented chef and you are great at organizing a kitchen but that's very different from managing a kitchen with people in it.” A silence passed through them and y/n gave him the benefit of the doubt.

“Marcus was completely wrong and I don’t fault you for that. I know I would have done the same thing. What kind of idiot worries about donuts when everyone is asking you about cakes?”

“They were good.” Y/n almost missed it but she was glad she didn’t. That meant that she hadn’t completely broken him.

“I bet they taste even better off the floor.” Y/n chuckled and even if Carmen doesn’t join her, he does pick his head up and look at her. The fact that she was still able to smile after ripping him to shreds was very reminiscent of many people in his life. He knew that she was probably right but he also knew that aspects of her criticism would keep him up at night for years to come

“Was I too much? ” Y/n asked.

“I needed to hear it…” Y/n let them stew in silence.

“You need to find the root of your issues and fix them.” Y/n offered.

“Are we good?” Carmen asked. Y/n was tempted to say yes so that they could move on but she had a feeling that was too easy for him. She worked hard today to be a force of stability and support for everyone and saying yes to Carmen’s question only comforted him. Y/n wanted to be comforted for once.

“No.” Carmen’s face betrayed his shock.

“What can I do to fix it?” Carmen was desperate.

Y/n sighed before closing her eyes. Y/n didn’t respond because she didn’t know how either.

Carmen felt a heat crawling up his chest, a sense of being trapped. He knew he could go back to Sydney, apologize, and promise to change, and they would be good. He knew that if he checked up on Richie, they would be good. He knew that if he swallowed his pride and prepared family dinner today, he would be in good standing with the rest of his team.

But Carmen was starting to realize that he didn’t really know enough about y/n to make this good. Carmen spent a lot of his time overthinking every minute detail of his life but no matter how hard he tried to come up with something to fix this, nothing seemed right. He couldn’t leave because he knew if he did that would be admitting defeat and that would ruin any friendship he earned with y/n but he couldn’t find the right words.

She couldn’t leave Carmen without it killing him. Her words echoed in his head and he tried to find a clue, something that would give him an opening to learn more about her so she wouldn’t leave the restaurant, leave him.

“Why did you hate me? Back in New York.” It was a risk but it felt like his only option. Y/n parted her lips a few times, it was like she was formulating a response that wouldn’t hurt him. He didn’t need her to comfort him, he needed to comfort her.

“Don’t lie, y/n.”

“I didn’t hate you.” Y/n conceded.

“Don’t bullshit me. The way you looked at me-”. Y/n didn’t know that she was being that obvious.

“You were…I don’t…” Y/n realized she had placed Carmen in an impossible situation by asking him to fix something without providing guidance, as she herself didn't know how to rectify her past mistakes without any guidance.

“I was really unhappy with my job and I thought that if I had someone, if I had you, we could stick together. We used to come and leave work at the same time, we were polite, you seemed like a nice guy. We could have helped each other out, I wanted so badly to have someone to rely on. It was selfish of me to put that pressure on you, I shouldn’t have done that…” That was the diluted version of the story, y/n was willing to take the blame for everything in New York but Carmen didn’t look satisfied, so she continued.

“I used to hand you your paycheck and you never made eye contact. I didn’t even know your eyes were blue until I had been working there for two months.” Carmen locked his eyes on y/n’s.

“I would try to talk to you and you never responded, I didn’t even know what you sounded like. You called me a few months ago and I didn’t even know it was you because you never said a word to me. I used to think that you thought you were too good to talk to me.” Carmen fiddles with his finders and y/n had to tear her eyes away from his hand so she could focus.

“I worked hard for a while to get close to you but you clearly weren’t interested. I took the hint and backed off. The looks were…immature and stupid but I couldn’t help it…I hated my job and you were an easy target. It's easy to hate something you know nothing about.”

“Do you hate me now?” Carmen whispered.

“Not anymore.” Y/n responded softly.

Carmen's shoulders visibly relaxed as he heard Y/n's response. Relief washed over him, mingled with a renewed sense of hope.

Carmen replied, his voice filled with sincerity. "I never wanted you to hate me. I just...you would look at me like that and it was one more reason that convinced me that I wasn’t fucking good enough for that job.”

Y/n had the daunting realization that she was one of the reasons why he left the French Laundry, why he left her. She felt extra guilt for yelling at Carmen for fucking up and being selfish when she did the same thing without knowing it. She blinked back some tears, she needed to hear this, even if it hurt.

“I'm sorry, I was completely-.”

“I used to be scared of you.” Carmen interrupted. Y/n sat up and raised an eyebrow.

“Why?” she asked in pure bewilderment.

“It felt like you were leagues ahead of me…it's like comparing an ant to…umm…” Carmen was struggling to spit something out, “divinity.” That made y/n widen her eyes and lean forward.

"I never saw you as beneath me, y/n. You were always on a higher plane, like we lived in different fucking planets." Carmen's voice held a touch of reverence, acknowledging the perceived disparity in their positions.

“You were always so…perfect. I never saw you struggle. Even now, you pick things up fast, people like you, you are great at whatever you do, you never get mad for no reason.”

“People don’t like me and I did get mad for no reason, I just yelled at Sydney before I got to you.”

“We deserved it.”

"It wasn't my place. It's your kitchen, and I shouldn't have gotten involved." Carmen felt sick. She was distancing herself from the kitchen and from him. She was trying to run away and he couldn't let that happen.

“I wouldn’t have anything left if you left.”

“You would have been fine, you would have Sydney.”

“But you…you…belong here. I can’t do this without you.” Carmen felt like she was slipping from his fingers and he was trying to grasp on to any part of her that he could convince to stay.

“Give me a reason to stay, Carmen.” Y/n's whispered with a mixture of longing and uncertainty. She wasn't sure what words were left to be spoken, but she knew she had to say his name. Y/n wanted his name to swirl around her tongue, and imprint the feeling of his name leaving her lips.

Y/n shifted her gaze, positioning herself to face him directly, and her eyes couldn't help but gravitate towards his slightly parted lips. It was clear that he had something to say, and she leaned in, eager to catch every word. In response, Carmen shortened the distance, drawn by the intimate proximity. It felt as if he was about to share a secret with her, a whisper that only they would hear.

With their faces mere inches apart, Carmen's right hand softly landed on the seat beside Y/n's thigh, subtly adjusting their positioning to align their faces. Y/n’s right hand began to rise, caressing his face tenderly. Y/n locked in with his cerulean eyes wondering if she was the only one feeling this. She tested the waters by running her thumb across his lips. They were a bit chapped from biting them all morning.

Feeling the touch of Y/n's thumb on his lips, Carmen's breath caught in his throat. It was a gentle caress that sent shivers down his spine.

“We shouldn’t do this.” Y/n mumbled as she leaned in closer.

Without breaking eye contact, Carmen reached up, gently cupping Y/n's face with his hand, his touch conveying tenderness and longing.

WIth a hoarse whisper, Carmen pleaded, “Kiss me, y/n.”

Y/n closed the gap and it was a collision of pent-up passion and aching yearning. Y/n's fingers tangled in Carmen's hair, pulling him even closer. Carmen’s thumb stroked y/n’s jaw and he couldn’t believe how soft her skin was. Their bodies pressed together, feeling the heat and intensity of their shared desire. Time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves in the sensation of each other. Every touch, every gentle nip of their lips, fueled the hunger that had been building between them for so long. It was a kiss filled with the weight of unspoken words.

Carmen didn’t want to pull away because he wasn’t sure if he would ever get another kiss, he wanted this one to last. He didn’t want to regret 20 years in the future not kissing for a few moments longer.

Y/n, breathless and in need of a moment to regain composure, pulled away from the kiss. Soft gasps escaped her lips as she tried to steady her racing heart. Carmen, caught in a blissful daze, found himself unable to flutter his eyes open. Carmen remained in a suspended state, savoring the lingering sensation of y/n's touch.

Carmen’s phone buzzed and that wasn’t enough to ground him. He felt like he was floating. If he didn’t move and really focused, he could convince himself that he was still kissing y/n.

He felt y/n’s hand slid up his apron and trail up his leg. Carmen's breath hitched, his senses heightened, as anticipation swirled in the air. He sat still, nervous to do something like this in public but if y/n wanted him to do something he would do it in a heartbeat. He trusted y/n completely, willing to follow her lead without hesitation.

Finally, Y/n's hand reached its destination, and Carmen's pulse quickened. Y/n pulled something out—his phone.

Confusion flickered across his features as he watched Y/n's playful expression. Y/n was teasing him, realizing the momentary tension she had caused. Carmen's anxiety gave way to relief, his lips curving into a smile of his own. He completely forgot about the buzzing so she answered the phone for him and brought it closer to his ear. He took the phone from her hands ensuring that their fingers grazed. It was a small, subtle gesture, yet it held the power to ignite sparks of electricity that danced along his skin.

“Yo, cousin. Where the fuck are you?”

“Why?” Carmen wanted to stay with her for longer but Richie, being a gigantic cockblock, was ruining that for him.

“You're out past your curfew. Why do you think?” Richie remarked sarcastically. “You still have a job, you can't just sit around in an alley like some kind of fucking sewer rat.”

“Richie, I swear to fucking good if the kitchen is fine and you dragged me back there for no reason, im gonna stab your other ass cheek.” Carmen waited till Richie started to talk back before hanging up on him, he was being petty. Carmen saw that y/n tucked her lips to prevent a laugh from escaping.

Carmen sat wordlessly, not wanting to leave just yet. Y/n stood up and Carmen followed her. As they stood face to face, Y/n's hands instinctively brushed his hair back into place, fixing any stray strands. With gentle precision, she smoothed out the wrinkles on his shirt sleeves and straightened his apron.

Y/n's finger traced lightly across his lips a few times, and a mischievous smirk fell on her lips. "Your lips are going to be a problem," she teased, a twinkle of amusement in their eyes. Carmen's mind momentarily scattered, unable to fully focus.

"Y/n?" Carmen's voice wavered slightly, his thoughts still clouded by desire.

Y/n, sensing his internal struggle, mustered a playful yet firm resolve. "Go back to the restaurant, I’m still mad at you." she gently nudged him toward the alley exit with an addictive smirk.

Carmen blinked, trying to gather his thoughts amidst the haze of longing.

"But when-" Y/n interrupted, her voice filled with anticipation.

"I'll see you in just a few minutes."

As he busied himself with checking on Richie and apologizing to Sydney, Carmen didn’t miss how y/n slipped inside and walked into the office.

Carmen was still pissed at Richie, who was counting the money in the drawer as they were about to close early to do family dinner.

“Why even bother calling if the place is empty, you dick?” Carmen said in a huff.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you sucking face with your new girlfriend.” Carmen’s jaw went slack.

“Carmy, you're so handsome.” Richie said in a hushed girly tone, mocking y/n’s voice.

“How-” Carmen started.

“You left and y/n left and you both came back within 5 fucking minutes of each other.” Carmen parted his lips trying to form a response.

“You should learn to hide this stuff better. Your lack of girlfriends is catching up to you.”

End Notes:

This is purely experimental so I will most likely not write stuff like this in the future, but if people like it, who knows?

We can delude ourselves into thinking that Carmen would be boyfriend material, but he most definitely isn't. I wanted to write something with an unreliable y/n who complains that Carmen has all these anger issues, is domineering, doesn't listen to people, is controlling, is selfish, is extremely unstable, etc. However, she is exactly the same; she just doesn't realize it.

At the end of the day, Carmen meshes well with people who are similar to him, which is why he is close with Sydney and sometimes Richie (their shared love of Michael and The Beef). I wanted to write something where he pursues someone who has similar flaws as him. I guess it's up to you guys to figure out if it's the start of personal growth on both ends or if it's a doomed romance.

Part 2

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samandcolbyownme · 3 months

Text

Summary: anon request - "can you write a smut for johnnie guilbert??"

Prompt: Johnnie and reader get into an argument which leads to make up sex.

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, arguing, hair pulling, pet names (dirty and cute), oral (m rec), unprotected rough makeup sex, filth

Word count: 2.6k | not edited

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

Johnnie has been working on editing his and Jake's video all day.

You think, no. You knew he forgot about them.

It wouldn't be as big of a deal if this was only the first time, maybe even the second or third - But it wasn't.

Over the last few weeks, you've had to either cancel or forget about plans because of Johnnie putting majority of his time into his computer screen rather than you.

You didn't really talk to anyone about it, or say anything to Johnnie, mainly because this is his job and you didn't think you had any room to bitch.

You checked your phone, sighing at the time - twenty minutes past reservation.

You used to remind him, then after the thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth time, you decided that he should be able to put down the computer for an hour or two on his own, so you decided to just let things go.

You never really blamed him, sometimes it was because he actually had deadlines to make, or a video he and Jake were doing ran long.

But when that wasn't the case, you used yourself as an excuse - not feeling well, didn't sleep good the night before, something simple yet believable.

You rise up from the couch, walking towards Johnnie's room. You pass Jake in the hallway and he makes a joke you're in no mood for, "Fix your face, you look pissed."

His laughter is silenced when you roll your eyes, "I am."

"Uh oh." Jake puts his hands on his hips, shifting his weight onto his right leg, "What did Johnnie do?"

You shake your head and cross your arms, looking away from him because you didn't want him to see the frustrated tears in your eyes.

"Am I going to hear yelling?" He asks and you nod, laughing slightly, "Probably."

"Shit." He sighs, "Well if you need backup, just yell- ooh. We should have a code word."

You stare at him, trying not to laugh as he taps his chin, "Hippopotamus."

"Hippop- Jake. Really?" You laugh and he shrugs, "Well yeah, if you just scream hippopotamus, that will for sure throw him off even more, then I can come in with an open can of whoop ass."

He moves his hands in front of him, a serious look on his face that you just cannot take serious, "Okay. I don't think I'll need it, but I appreciate the support."

You pat his shoulder, watching him walk away before taking a deep breath, returning to what you were originally doing.

You stop in front of Johnnie's door, composing yourself so you don't go in, already lit like a fire cracker.

You know twice before opening the door, "Hey."

Johnnie has his headphones on, so he probably didn't hear you. You walk in, closing the door behind you. You walk over to him, gently tapping him on the shoulder.

"Jesus fu-" he jumps and looks up at you, "Jesus Christ, babe." He sighs, "Scared the fucking shit out of me."

"Sorry." You smile slightly and sit on the bed, "Whatcha doin'?"

He pulls his headphones down around his neck, "Just working on getting this video out."

You nod, "Cool. Cool.”

You look around his room, picking at your nails as you try and figure out how to calmly start the conversation.

"What's wrong?" Johnnie asks turning his chair towards you. You look over at him and shrug, "We just.." you laugh slightly, "It's not really funny, but we missed our dinner reservation."

He looks in the corner of his computer, "Oh fuck. I'm sorry." He looks up, "Why didn't you tell me?"

You scoff, raising your brows as you lower your voice, "I shouldn't have to."

"What? Sorry. I didn't quite hear you clearly." Johnnie closes his lap top and sets it on the desk.

You roll your eyes, lying back with a groan, "I'm not arguing with you Johnnie."

"I'm sorry, I must missed the part where I said we were?" He takes his headphones from around his neck, setting them on top of his closed computer.

You sit up, letting out a sigh, "I said, I shouldn't have to tell you when we have plans, Johnnie." You let your hands fall into your lap with a slap, "I let it go for a while, only because I didn't think I have a right to be mad, but you constantly editing and this or that is effecting us."

"So what.. are you saying?" He stares at you with a solid look, "You're going to leave? All because I'm doing my fucking job?"

"No." Your words come out louder than you intended, "I never fucking said I was leaving, Johnnie. All I said was that I shouldn't have to fucking remind you time and time again that we have plans for us. You and me. Boyfriend and fucking girlfriend!"

"Other than right now, name one fucking time me doing this made us miss out on something." He motions for you to take the floor and you sigh.

"Sam and Colby were throwing a party, I told them you had a deadline to make so we wouldn't make it. Tara was throwing a party, I told her I didn't feel good because you stayed up all night and half the day working on a video. Last week we missed out on dinner, again, because you didn't pay attention to the time. Two weeks ago, Jake wanted us to go with him to one of his other friend's parties, but you decided to get on and stream. Do you want me to keep going?" You raise your brows and lean forward slightly, "Because I can."

Johnnie laughs, "So.. you're telling me that you couldn't just come to me an hour or so before and tell me to get off? You're just blaming me for every time you missed out on going when you could have just gone yourself?"

"You want me to go to dinner, for two.. alone?" You tilt your head back, "You are being so unbelievable right now."

You stand up and Johnnie's eyes follow you. Your hands go to your hips as you pace back and forth, "I'm trying to get you to understand that I want- I need time with you, too Johnnie."

"You get time with me, y/n. I don't understand why you're so worked up over me d-"

"Because it's all you fucking do Johnnie. You're always filming a video. Editing a video. Uploading a video. Something with a stupid video." You turn to face him, "I want to go out to dinner, enjoy time with just us. Do you think I want to go to parties alone? It's no fun when I don't have you there."

He sighs, looking down, "So.." he looks up at you, "You waited until it was what, twenty minutes or so after our reservation time to come in here and make a huge scene that could have been avoided?"

You laugh, mouth dropped open as you stare at him, "Are you ever going to actually listen to what I'm saying or am I just wasting my breath being a broken record?"

"I am listening, you're just not getting what I'm saying, y/n."

"No. Trust me. I get it. Loud and clear." You motion to his computer, "I'll just leave you to it then."

You turn to walk towards the door, reaching to open it but Johnnie's hand stops you, "Don't."

"Don't what? Leave so I can sit here in silence while you continue to do what got us here in the first place?" You turn your head to look at him and he shakes his head, "No."

He grabs your wrist, pulling you towards the bed, "Were done talking about this."

"No.. I don't think we a-"

He cuts you off with his lips on yours. His hands pull your waist into him, "We're done talking for right now."

"You can't ju-"

"Don't run your mouth anymore, and I won't run mine anymore." He kisses down your neck, "We can talk after we get all of this frustration out."

A smile creeps into your lips, even though you're still mad. But, no worries. Johnnie will take care of that for you right away.

"Fine." You give in, sitting down on the bed. You pull him with you, his body hovering over yours, "Shut me up."

He smirks, tilting his head, "Gladly." He sits up on his knees, taking off his shirt. His hands move to his belt and you sit up to replace his hands with your own.

You glance up at him as you undo his jeans, biting your lip as you anticipate what's about to happen.

He nods towards the floor and you pull your legs out from in between his and move, dropping to the floor as he stands up.

He pushes his jeans down, and you move over to him, pulling down his boxers before he sits down on the edge of the bed.

He leans back, holding his weight up with his hands as he watches you move in between his legs. He sucks in a sharp breath as you wrap your hand around his cock.

His eyes following you as you lean in, sticking your tongue out to lap at the head of it. He groans lowly, balling up the blanket in his fists, "Fuck."

You work him into your mouth, coating him with your spit as his jaw hangs slack, "That's it."

You lift your head, moving your hand up and down to coat him fully before leaning back in to bob your head up and down.

His eyes flutter shut as a moan escapes quietly.

You look up at him, dragging your tongue up the underside of his cock as you tilt your head back.

"All the way in, babe." Johnnie places a hand on the back of your head, gently nudging you to come back for more.

You lick your lips, leaning in to take his cock back into your mouth. You bob your head, working further and further down, until you can feel him in your throat.

He groans, stroking the back of your head as you hold yourself there. You squeeze your eyes shut, digging your nails into his thighs before you pop back off, glancing up at him before going back in.

You lift your head, bobbing your head slowly as your tongue flattens against his cock.

"Fuck. Why didn't we just do this first.." He gasps as you sink your head all the way onto him, groaning as bucks his hips slightly, "Fuck okay. Okay."

He lifts your head, cupping your cheeks as he nods to the bed, "Get undressed then lay down."

You move to your feet quickly, pulling your shirt over your head before fumbling to undo your pants. You kick them off, getting ready to climb onto the bed when Johnnie stops you.

"Ah, ah. Panties too, sweetheart."

You nod, pushing them down and kicking them off before finally climbing onto the bed. You turn, facing him as you sit down.

He moves up in front of you, leaning in to kiss your neck. He pushes your body back as he moves his over yours.

He kisses down your chest and over to your boob, taking your nipple between his teeth. You gasp as he bites down, hands moving to his hair to mess it up more, "J-Johnnie.."

You whine, slightly moving your hips, "Please."

He kisses back up, to your lips, moving to lay beside you. He rolls you over so you're laying on your side, hand sliding under your thigh to lift up your leg.

You bite your lip as his hand slides down your body, stopping at your clit to rub small circles onto it.

You arch your back away from his chest, "P-please."

He rests his chin against your head as he slides his fingers down to dip them inside of you, “We don’t need to argue.” His voice is light, quiet, “We should always just fuck it out..”

He slowly moves his fingers in and out, “And then talk. Doesn’t that sound much better?”

You nod, “Y-yeah. So much better.”

“That my girl.” He kisses your head and moves his hand to grab his cock, rubbing it against your pussy a few times before slowly slipping in, “Fuck.”

His arm slides over your waist, hold you to him as he pushes in. You tilt your head back and his lips meet your neck, sucking a spot which earns an even louder moan from you.

“Fuck..” you breathe out, “Johnnie..”

He groans lowly, tightening his grip as he starts to thrust. Your foot rests on his leg as you keep your leg raised, moaning with each of his thrusts.

You lay your hand on his arm, digging your nails in as his thrusts grow harder.

“F-fuck.” You whimper, “Keep going.”

He moans, digging his fingers into your skin, “You feel so fucking good.” He pulls you closer to him as you push your hips back, dragging your nails down his arm , “Yes, yes, yes!”

He pushed your body forward, sitting up and getting on his knees behind you. He pulls your hips up, quickly placing his cock back into you.

Your cheek rests against the bed as you moan, pulling the blanket as his thrusts go right back to being rough.

Your eyes roll back, a string of moans leaving your lips in a constant loudness.

You yelp out as his hand makes contact with your ass with a hard smack. He brings his leg up, giving his cock a new angle that drives you absolutely crazy.

“Such a good fucking girl.” He groans out as he tilts his head back. He brushes his hair from his face before reaching up to grab a handful of your hair.

You tilt your head back, lifting your self up onto your elbows, “F-fuck. Fuck.”

“Wait for me, baby.” Johnnie moans, “Almost there.”

He tugs your hair, pushing his cock all the way, pausing for a second before continuing to thrust, “Shit.”

He lets go of your hair, gripping your hips. You moan, trying hard not to cum like he wants. You push your hips back, whining out as he makes it harder, “P-please.”

Johnnie’s thrusts grow sloppy, “Cum for me.”

Not even the end of his words and you’ve already let go, becoming a whimpering, moaning mess under him as you squeeze his cock repeatedly.

A few seconds later, he pulls out, spilling his cum onto your lover back and ass.

“Fuck.” He strokes himself a few times before falling back and sitting down. You lay down, trying to control your breathing and he lays a hand on your thigh, “I’m sorry for not listening to you.”

“I’m sorry for coming off bitchy.” You laugh slightly, “I was just..” you pause for a second and sigh, “I let my frustration get the best of me.”

“I don’t blame you. I haven’t been fully with us lately, and I promise that..” he taps your leg with each word, “..right now, you have my attention whenever you want it.”

You turn your head to look at him, “You promise?” You hold out your pinky and he smiles as he wraps his around yours, “I promise.”

As Johnnie gets up to get something to wipe off with, Jake yells from the other side of door, “y/n? Do you need a hippopotamus?”

Johnnie looks at you super confused and you can’t help but laugh, “I’ll explain then.”

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

This is my first ever Johnnie one shot, so please let me know how you liked it! I’m interested to hear what you have to say!

Thank you for reading! Love you all! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#samandcolby-ownme #johnnie guilbert #Johnnie Guilbert one shots #Johnnie guilbert smut #Johnnie guilbert smut one shot #Johnnie Guilbert dirty one shot #smut #smut one shot #smutty one shot #smutty Johnnie Guilbert #smut one shot Johnnie Guilbert #run your mouth #one shots #one shot smut #dirty one shot

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fic-heaven · 29 days

Text

Ghost x witty reader

Good luck's kiss

Running through the hall heaving like a dog earned you a few confused looks from the passerbys, but the fact that your lieutenant was in the armory about to leave for a month to a mission you were not quite informed of, made you skip breakfast to at the very least, say goodbye. Because obviously that's what friends do... Not crazy fucks with a big-ass crush.

"Hey! Hey!!" You call out to Ghost who by the looks of it, is not happy at all while rearranging his bag near the exit from where you just busted in.

"Don't got time to humour ya, sarge. We are deploying in a few minutes." The tall Brit growls rushing to collect his things, the heavy bag he previously had on the floor was now being launched to his shoulder as Simon got ready to leave the room.

"Weren't ya leaving in like... Half a week?" You breathlessly said getting on his way.

"Yeah well, change of plans. That's our job, sweetheart."

You crossed your arms with a patient look and that seemed to tick him off.

"You weren't planning to simply leave without saying goodbye, right? That's not something my favorite lieutenant would do."

He busied himself checking his gear for the last time on the crusty, broken mirror near next to you that someone had forgotten to throw away as an excuse to spend a few minutes listening to you.

"What would ya have me do? I ain' got no time to fuck around kissing everyone g'bye."

"Do you need a good luck's kiss, LT?"

That shocked Ghost, but he was obviously not going to openly show it, he knew if he was too obvious he wouldn't hear the end of it with all your teasing, so he stood there staring blankly at your reflection next to him in utter silence and you, always so straight forward, weren't one to shy away from this even if it was only a joke.

You moved the paralyzed lieutenant by the shoulders to face you so you could lean in, to your surprise he crouched a bit to your level when he picked up on what you were about to do, your hand went to his jaw tilting his head a bit to the side with his permission, then you planted your lips to the cold surface of his masked cheek. Ghost's eyes remained open, never blinking in a seemingly bored expression while you smiled in amusement at your lieutenant until you spotted the clock hanging from the wall behind him and realization hit you.

"Y'gotta go, what are ya waiting for? A second kiss?"

That seemed to pull him out of his hidden stupor, he blinked twice, leaned back and stretched his neck. "Thanks for the offer. That wasn't awkward at all..."

"Why! I bet you are blushing under there~"

"On your dreams, I only indulge in your stupidity-"

"Oh, for bonding I bet."

"Not really, it's only for my sole amusement."

"My goodness, Riley. You are cold..."

Ghost was about to leave the armory with his hand ready to open the door until he heard this, he turned to you, took a few rushed steps closer his right hand shooting to grab your nape and pressed the teeth of his mask to your forehead simulating a kiss. It was your turn to look openly dumbfounded. Ghost took a peek your way, said his quick goodbyes and left.

He'll never acknowledge the loud dreamy sigh that scaped his mouth when his lungs deflated once he got to the humvee.

Simon could die on this mission and feel a type of peace only belonging to a man who has seen and done everything on his list. Although next time, if everything goes right and he gets back to you, he hopes you'll give him another kiss but this time with no mask.

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #ghost simon riley #simon riley x reader

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yoongiseesawmp3 · 5 months

Text

anything but - jeonghan

summary: roommate!jeonghan. you thought living with your best friend, jeonghan, would be easy. fun. like a sleepover every night. but as he watches you struggle week in and week out with crushes that don't like you back or dates that never seem to go well, he decides to take matters into his own hands.

word count: 8.2k

warnings: none rly, afab reader, unedited, sry

masterlist

jeonghan is ready to go to sleep. he had a long day, followed by a good, but tiring, night with friends, and he's been thinking about his soft sheets for the past two hours now. he's also been thinking about you, thinking about how happy he gets seeing your face light up when he walks through the door, but he knows he won't see that tonight. you're going on a date, dinner with some loser who's not him. he knows he could treat you so much better, but he can't just say that. things would get weird, and jeonghan can't afford the rent on his own. so selfishly, he keeps you and his feelings at arm's length. he's still thinking about you as he puts his key in the lock, wondering if he can stay up late enough to make sure you get home safe. when he opens the door, he changes his mind.

"what are you doing here?" jeonghan asks with a bit of anger in his voice, finding you laid out on the couch scrolling through your phone. "you told me you were going on a date tonight. did you cancel on him?"

"nope," you reply, popping the p as you sit up to stare at your roommate. "he cancelled on me. ten minutes before he was supposed to pick me up, actually, so i got ready for nothing."

that's when jeonghan notices the nice clothes you have on, your hair done up but mussed now that you've been laying on it. and, with a pang in his chest, he notices your makeup that looks smudged with tears. he knows you've been having dating trouble lately, and it's definitely been getting to you. but it makes his heart ache to think that you've been home all night crying over some loser who couldn't even bother to take you out.

"why didn't you call me?" he asks softly, joining you on the couch as he lifts your legs to lay them over his lap. he keeps a comforting hand on your calf as you explain, a slight tremor in your bottom lip as you say, "i didn't want to interrupt boy's night."

"baby, come on," he sighs. "you should have told me. you could've come to boy's night!"

"right," you scoff, rolling your eyes. "and hear all of them talk about their beautiful girlfriends and being so happy in a relationship? i'd rather eat drywall."

"we talk about other stuff," jeonghan laughs. "i told them about you getting us tickets to that soccer game and now i think they like you better than me. mingyu might be calling to see if he can take my ticket."

"never," you smile at him, sitting up and swinging your legs from his lap. "well, it's late. you're probably tired."

"eh," jeonghan shrugs, looking over you carefully to gauge if you're upset. "i could stay up a little longer, if you wanted to watch something."

"we're caught up on all our shows though," you pout. jeonghan sees an idea cross your face, so he asks, "what are you thinking?"

"nothing," you shake your head. "i remembered i didn't watch project runway last week, but you don't like that show-"

"put it on," he nods to the tv, looking over you one more time and noticing your clothes must not be that comfortable. "or you go change, i'll set it up."

"you don't know what episode i'm on though," you squint at him, and he shakes his head.

"nope, you're two weeks behind," he says. "i remember, because we went out the week before and you were ticked off that you were missing it."

"you pay too much attention to me," you mumble as you finally get up from the couch, jeonghan barely hearing you as he checks you out from behind. you're right, he does. too bad you haven't realized why.

when you come back from your room, you're wearing a hoodie that's seen better days and shorts that aren't quite doing their job. jeonghan clears his throat, trying not to stare, but when you sit down and put your legs back over his lap he can't help but skirt his hand over your skin, getting too close to your thigh without realizing.

"that tickles," you giggle, pushing his hand away. "you're annoying."

"ha, sorry," he laughs nervously, not sure what to do with his hands now so he reaches for the remote to press play. not far into the episode you curl up on your side of the couch, your knees tucked up beneath you as you lay down. jeonghan keeps an eye on you the whole time, attune to all your reactions and movements. he notices when you shiver, up in an instant to get a blanket.

"where are you going?" you call out, and he comes back wordlessly with the comforter from his room. he wraps it over you, using the rest of it to cover himself as he gets comfortable again. you find yourself dozing off, waking up every few minutes to see the progress on your favorite designers. you sleep through a whole section of the show, whining that you need to rewind, but jeonghan quietly explains what's happened and you're satisfied enough.

"do you want me to turn this off?" jeonghan asks after he sees your eyes closed again after you just complained about missing part of the show. you shake your head, not much of it visible outside of his blanket. you're noticing how nice his blanket smells, recognizing it as the same fresh scent that follows jeonghan around. it makes you feel at home, and that's part of what's making you so sleepy.

"i don't wanna go to my room," you admit shyly, feeling the tears from earlier just a moment or two away. "i'll stay awake, promise."

"do you want to sleep out here?" jeonghan asks, and you think about it for a moment. it wouldn't be the first time you had a little sleepover of sorts, both of you squished awkwardly on the couch or sleeping far apart from each other on someone's mattress that's been dragged out from one of your rooms. your silence decides it for jeonghan, and he says, "i'll go change, and then we can go to sleep." all you do is nod, getting comfortable beneath his comforter again as jeonghan slinks back to his bedroom to get ready for bed.

he comes back out and laughs to himself, your messy hair and scrunched sleepy face pulling at his heart. he knows someday he should tell you how he feels. he knows what you're looking for, and he knows he's perfect for you. it's just a matter of time before you figure that out, too.

a few days later, jeonghan was in the middle of a nap when he heard mumbling in the hallway and the sound of someone slamming doors. he was worried for only a few minutes, thinking it could possibly be an intruder, but as the mumbling gets closer to his door he knows there's a very frustrated y/n on the other side. he groans as he hoists himself up, shuffling to the door so he can peek out at you putting laundry away in the most irritated way possible. it's like you're trying to punish the towels for existing, and jeonghan can't help but laugh at the annoyed look on your face. it's cute, he finds himself thinking, but his chuckle pulls you from your dark thoughts and brings your anger to a new victim.

"what."

"nothing," jeonghan says defensively. "i thought someone was breaking in, you know, with all the banging around."

"shut up," you mumble, shoving the washcloths into the hall closet before slamming the door. you turn to your best friend and roommate, finger pointed accusingly, "i'm in a bad mood so don't piss me off."

"that explains the stress cleaning," he notes, and you ignore him.

"i'm going downstairs to put the dishes away," you grumble as you pass by him to get to the stairs, and he puts a timid hand on your shoulder.

"maybe do something that involves less breakables," he says coolly. "go punch a pillow or something."

"that's a good idea," you say, face lighting up slightly, and he laughs nervously as he finally asks what's wrong. "you remember that bitch of a dude who i was talking to a couple weeks ago?"

"gar bear?" jeonghan asks, and you roll your eyes.

"gary, yeah."

"what about him?" he asks, watching you unlock your phone and scroll to find something. you shove it into his hands, open to a very disturbing picture of a very ugly dick. "no."

"yeah. at three pm on a fucking thursday."

"stop making me look at it," he whines, pushing your phone back to you. "that's what made you mad?"

"yes!" you shout. "how did that thought process work? oh, this girl who i led on and then gaslit and then weirded out, she really needs to see my dick right now. it's the middle of the day! get a job! contribute to society!!!"

"why's he posing like that?" jeonghan asks, noticing more about the photo since you haven't locked your phone yet. "he looks so stiff."

"please stop," you say, but jeonghan sees a smile pulling at your lips.

"so what did you do?"

"i said 'what is your problem' and then i blocked him," you shrug, and he laughs.

"remind me to never piss you off," he says as he wraps an arm around you. "i'm sorry guys are assholes."

"i think i'm gonna become a nun," you mumble into his shoulder, staying in his hold maybe a minute too long. he presses a quick kiss to the crown of your head before letting you go, a blush on your cheeks that he takes pride in.

"you'd suck at being a nun, you're not nice enough," he jokes, and the way you glare at him makes him smile. "plus you fuck too much, aren't they supposed to be celibate?"

"forget punching pillows, i'm gonna punch you."

"sure baby," he chuckles, looking back at you as he walks downstairs. "you want food or something? i'll do the dishes. you just focus on not burning down the patriarchy."

"no promises," you mumble as you follow behind him. "but yeah, i wanna try this recipe i found the other day..."

it's over dinner that night that you realize how perfect jeonghan is. if only you could find a guy just like your best friend. someone who supports you, makes you smile, know how to get your heart to skip a beat. take, for example, his compliments. you like to joke to jeonghan that you need validation on your cooking, like tinkerbell, so whenever you cook for him the praises are nonstop. he's nothing if not supportive, so he tries to find things to comment on that he knows will make you blush. it works, and you do your best to tell him to stop without making it obvious that your heart is doing somersaults at his words.

this is what you want from a relationship, you find yourself thinking. you want to be comfortable with them, feel supported, all the things that jeonghan gives you. that night, you scroll through your dating apps, looking for a guy you think could meet those standards. in reality, you spend the whole night comparing the men on your screen to your roommate, subconsciously thinking of all the things you like most about jeonghan that these losers don't possess. you fall asleep like that, phone open to an empty chat, with jeonghan still on your mind.

so, a downside to living with jeonghan is you get the brunt end of all his weird energy. sometimes it's fun, and manifests itself in silly ways. like when you go thrifting, he takes it upon himself to find the weirdest thing in the store and insists on bringing it home. it means your apartment is decorated uniquely, but some of the stranger things you make him keep in his room. you haven't figured out yet that he only does this to make you laugh, loving how you smile sweetly at all the funny trinkets littered around your house. anything that goes into his room is eventually donated back to goodwill, its purpose served, doomed to delight another unassuming shopper some day.

other times, his weird energy comes out in worse ways. like today, he's not home, but you can feel that something's wrong. you know jeonghan is helping his friends with some video shoot, and he won't be home until much later. but there's a vibe in your apartment when you walk in. something is off, and it doesn't take you long to realize it. jeonghan has moved everything around, the couch where your kitchen table should be, the chairs from the table lined up in place of your couch. he's a strange one, your best friend, but it makes you laugh nonetheless, sending him a picture of the chairs and asking, "how am i supposed to fall asleep watching tv on this?!"

jeonghan smiles when he gets your text, shooting back, "watch tv in your room if you know you're just gonna fall asleep!"

really, he did the switcharoo for you to let your guard down. yes, moving furniture around is something silly that he would do, but he hid something further in the house that he wants you to find. he's hoping he'll be home when you do, but just the mere thought of your reaction has him chuckling. he goes back to whatever vernon wanted him to do, curious at each buzz from his phone, wondering if it's you.

jeonghan got the best of you, like usual. you did just go to your room, putting on one of your comfort shows so you could relax after a boring shift at work. you only get up to make a quick meal, dozing off again with the empty plate beside you. when the tv wakes you up you figure it's just time for you to go to bed, so you shuffle to the kitchen and notice a light coming from under jeonghan's door. he must have come home while you were napping, but it's late, so you go about your business. you drop your things off in the kitchen, returning upstairs to grab a washcloth and towel from the closet before you lock yourself in the bathroom. jeonghan is listening intently as you move around, waiting for the sound of the shower curtain pulling back and-

"JEONGHAN?!"

with sock clad feet that send him crashing through the now open bathroom door, he greets you with a shit eating grin. "you rang?"

"what the FUCK is that doing in here," you bellow, pointing at the plastic skeleton jeonghan found at the party store earlier that day. he thought it would be funny to hide in the apartment, at first just thinking about propping it up in the kitchen like the dead guy was making a meal, but the idea of scaring you a little was too good for him to pass up.

"man, when was the last time you cleaned your bathroom?" jeonghan jokes, "he must've been in here a while."

"fuck you," you spit, heart still racing from the surprise. that's when jeonghan notices something: you're naked. well, not entirely. like, you definitely don't have clothes on, his eyes flicking down to see your discarded panties and sleep shirt on the floor. he can't see the goods though because you're dangerously holding a towel over your body, one edge of it slipping as you reach out to try and punch jeonghan.

"what, you don't like him?" jeonghan pouts, stepping out of the bathroom to protect himself. "i thought you said you wanted to start decorating for halloween."

"this is not what i meant and you know it, you jackass," you try to say meanly, but jeonghan finds it cute. "it scared the shit out of me."

"i'm sorry," he says finally, hands twitching to reach out and grab you by the waist so he can rub comforting circles on your skin. but he can't. he physically shakes his hands out, a thing he does often enough to reset his mind that you look at him quizzically.

"why'd you do that?" you ask, and he clasps his hands behind his back defensively.

"felt like it," he shrugs. you roll your eyes and reach for the door, grumbling more expletives at him as you try to shut it in his face. "um, y/n?"

"what."

"you gonna shower with him?" jeonghan asks, pointing to your new friend. "i gotta admit, i'm a little jealous-"

"oh my god," you groan, grabbing the skeleton and throwing it at jeonghan with a comical clangor of plastic bones. "i hate you."

"love you too baby," jeonghan laughs as he closes the door for you, hefting the skeleton over his shoulder to go hide him in another corner of the house.

a few days later (jeonghan has hid the skeleton twice now), you come home from a date, dopey smile still on your face. you gasp when you see a body on the couch, thinking it's that stupid skeleton again. you breathe a sigh of relief when you realize it's a snoozing jeonghan instead. he looks angelic, his soft features shining brightly even in the dark room, illuminated by the tv. you don't realize that you're staring, nor do you realize jeonghan is peeking at you, the sound of the door waking him up.

"hey," he calls quietly, startling you. "sorry. i can go back to sleep and you can keep staring."

"i wasn't staring," you say defensively.

"sure," jeonghan nods, checking you out. "you look nice."

"who's staring now?" you ask as you cross to the kitchen. "i went out to dinner, but the portions were too small. do you want something to eat?"

"no, i'm good!" jeonghan calls. "was it a fancy place?"

"what?" you ask, coming back into the living room with a bag of chips. "i couldn't hear you."

"where you ate," he clarifies. "you dressed up, the servings were small, must have been a fancy place this guy took you to."

"how'd you know i was on a date?" you pout.

"y/n, i know you better than anyone else," jeonghan chuckles. "it was obvious. how'd it go?"

"good," you nod, ears burning under jeonghan's close attention. "don't wanna jinx it though."

"ok," jeonghan nods. "well i'm glad it was a good date. you deserve one of those."

"how was your night?" you ask. jeonghan shifts on the couch so there's room for you to sit and join him. once you're settled he explains how his friend seungcheol had come over for drinks, but he left a little while ago.

"i think he's got a girlfriend and doesn't want to tell me," jeonghan says, "because he feels bad that i'm not seeing anybody."

"you want me to find you a lady?" you tease. "you know my friends love you, i'm sure it'd be easy.''

"no," he shakes his head so some of his hair falls in his eyes. it makes it easier for him to stare at you without you noticing. "i'm good."

"well, it's a standing offer," you say as you get up to return the chips to the pantry. when you walk back through the living room, you ask, "where's jack tonight? i'm about to shower, i don't want another heart attack."

"i put the skeleton in your bed," jeonghan smiles with an impish glint in his eyes. "i figured it would be a nice surprise for the poor sap you might have brought home."

"you're annoying."

"thanks!" jeonghan chirps, and you laugh before telling him goodnight. he watches you go, smiling at something on your phone. jeonghan feels a pang in his chest ever so slightly, but he shakes it off, turning the tv off before he goes back to sleep trying not to think about you.

the following week, you're acting off. jeonghan notices immediately, but he doesn't bring it up to you at first. he's not sure if maybe work is stressing you, or maybe you've got family stuff going on...whatever it is, he'll give it a day or two before he checks on you, knowing how you like having time to yourself before someone swoops in to help.

the reality is, you really like this guy you've been talking to. that first date was amazing, and you wanted to go out with him again as soon as possible. you talk all the time, always ducking into your room when he calls while you're around jeonghan. you're actually ignoring jeonghan a lot, which you feel bad about, but you just can't get enough of this new guy. even though you're talking a lot, it's hard to set up another date with him because you're both busy with work. you've got plans to hang out on sunday, and for the first time in a long time, you're excited for a date. not nervous, not dreading it, just pure schoolgirl crush excitement.

that's why it's so crushing when, a few hours before, the guy texts you and cancels. you play it off at first, asking when he's free to reschedule, but his response is basically telling you to get lost. it hurts your feelings more than it should, because he is just some loser dude, but you also didn't know him that long. you have no reason to be so devastated over this, but you are.

jeonghan knew about your second date with this guy, so he made plans to be out of the house for as long as possible on sunday. as selfish as it was, he didn't want to be there for the giddy getting ready (you always ask him for outfit advice and he always tells you that you look great) or for the nervous pacing while you waited for the guy to pick you up (jeonghan always distracts you with jokes to calm your nerves). he also didn't want to be there after the date, if you happened to bring the lucky guy home. so he's out running errands, bothering his friends, and killing time until he's sure he won't walk in on anything he doesn't want to see.

when jeonghan gets home, it's late. after his day of farting around he went to his friend wonwoo's apartment for a while to heckle him while he played video games, and wonwoo finally kicked him out.

"don't you need to go home to your girlfriend?" wonwoo had teased, and jeonghan kicked him from his spot on the couch.

"y/n's my best friend and my roommate."

"so basically your girlfriend," wonwoo smiles that little smile of his, and it annoys jeonghan.

"she doesn't think of it like that," jeonghan mumbles, looking for his phone so he can head home anyway.

"because you're being too subtle."

"i'm not trying to be anything!" jeonghan says defensively. "i don't want her to know."

"why not?" wonwoo asks, finally turning to look at his friend. "you afraid she'll say no? because we all think-"

"i'll see you later, ok?" jeonghan says quickly, his shoes barely on as he tries to unlock the door. "hope cheol doesn't kill you again."

"in his dreams," wonwoo mumbles, his attention effectively back on the game and off of jeonghan.

jeonghan comes home to a mostly dark apartment, the stove light in the kitchen the only indication that you got home before him. he stops at the door to make sure there's no...unpleasant sounds coming from elsewhere, and when he's met with silence he kicks his shoes off carefully before heading to his room. he's exhausted, hiding from you all day being a good way to wear a person out. when he passes by your room something catches his ear, and his heart stops. were you moaning?

jeonghan knows he shouldn't, but he presses his ear against your door, telling himself he's only doing this so he can decide if he needs to stay somewhere else tonight. he's waiting to hear another voice, a man's voice, but he's met with a quiet whimper, followed by some sniffles. his heart roars back to life hearing that, almost breaking to pieces when he realizes you're not moaning, you're in your room crying. he's opening the door before he knows what he's doing, and you jump out of your skin at the unwelcome intrusion.

"go away," you whisper. jeonghan ignores you, coming to your bedside and looking down at you with concern in his eyes. "jeonghan, please. go away-"

"why are you crying?" he asks, and you don't say anything. "what did that asshole do?"

"nothing," you sniff again, willing your tears to stay back as you try to appease your roommate long enough for him to decide you're fine and leave you alone. "h-he was bu-busy and had to cancel-"

"fuck him."

"yeah, whatever," you say shakily. "it doesn't matter. i'm fine. now leave. please." your eyes are closed, trying to hide the tears that are welling up, and jeonghan is so quiet you assume he left, but he's trying not to let his own emotions show as he calls your name.

"y/n," jeonghan whispers, and when you look up at him you can't help it. you start crying again seeing him so upset over you being so upset, and before long you're back to bawling your eyes out. you barely register jeonghan cooing softly at you, climbing into bed and scooping you up into his arms. his lips are pressing soft kisses up and down your hairline, and it makes you cry even more. this is what you want, you think. this is what you need, what you've been missing. you want a boyfriend that will care for you like jeonghan does, that will be there for you like jeonghan is. it physically hurts you to think that you may never have that, that there's a possibility you'll never feel that kind of romantic love from someone. and you want to say that, you want to tell jeonghan why he came home to you pathetically crying so much, but he doesn't care. he just wants you to stop, so he'll hold you in his arms whispering sweet jokes to you until there's no more tears. he gets the slightest smile out of you right before you doze off, hands bunched into his shirt holding on for dear life. jeonghan holds you tighter, pressing one last kiss to the tip of your snotty nose before he drifts off to sleep with you.

you wake up later, not quite in the morning, but a few hours have passed. you're not used to sharing a bed with someone, especially when that person has such a vice grip on you as jeonghan does. once your mind has registered that you're awake, you also feel the burn of someone's eyes on you. sure enough, when you peek into the darkness of your room you see jeonghan staring back, eyebrows creased and teeth nibbling his bottom lip.

"stop chewing your lip," you tell him, reaching out to tug it from between his teeth. "i'm fine. you don't need to worry about me."

"wrong," he replies, watching you intensely as he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. the quiet that follows has your face heating up, and the heat spreads through the rest of your body. it feels like every point where jeonghan's body is pressed against yours is on fire, and you want to pull away. but you don't.

"why aren't you in your room."

"because i wanted to sleep here," he replies. "i hope that's ok."

"it's not-"

"bummer," jeonghan cuts you off. "i'm not leaving."

"i'm not crying anymore though," you point out. "so. i'm fine."

"nope," he shakes his head. his bangs fall back into his eyes, and you think briefly he must need a haircut, but you hope he doesn't get one. the long hair suits him, even if it keeps him from seeing sometimes. you don't think about it, your hand unclenching his shirt and instead reaching up to brush his hair out of his face. jeonghan watches you carefully, and your breath gets caught in your throat when you look back down to his eyes. he's staring at you so intensely you can feel it in your chest, and that's when it hits you: jeonghan. you want a boyfriend like jeonghan. well! jeonghan's right here! what are you gonna do about it?

"jeonghan, i..." you trail off, staring at him like you're seeing him in a new light. he waits patiently for you to go on, thinking you might explain the situation a little more, but you don't know what to say. you just get hit with the intense need to bury your face in his chest, breathing in his scent and listening to his heartbeat as you fall back asleep.

"what?" he asks, trying to encourage you to keep speaking.

"um, can i just-" you try, but instead of speaking you just nuzzle into his chest, nose at the base of his neck tickling his skin. "i want to go back to sleep."

"then sleep baby," he whispers as he squeezes you tighter, afraid to let go. as you fall asleep, you let your hands relax against his chest, one of them laid right over his racing heart.

the next morning, you wake up to an empty bed and almost convince yourself you dreamed up jeonghan last night. like an oasis in the desert, he came to you when you needed him most. a little part of you wishes it wasn't real so you could go back to a time where you didn't know your true feelings for jeonghan, but your mussed sheets proves it wasn't a dream. jeonghan's scent is still lingering on your extra pillow, and you take a deep breath and remember how it felt to be wrapped up in your best friend.

jeonghan comes back into your room with two coffees in hand and he sees you nuzzling your face into the spot where his head laid just minutes ago. he lets you wallow for a moment before he calls your name softly. you jump up, cheeks warming as you look at jeonghan in your doorway.

"morning," he smiles. he hands you your coffee, your cold hands brushing his and sparking warmth across his skin. he stops himself from leaning down to kiss your forehead, knowing that whatever intimacy you shared last night is probably left in the past. you were sad, and jeonghan was there to comfort you. he'd happily do that a million times over, but he doesn't think you feel the same way he does.

"jeonghan, i'm sorry about last night," you try to apologize, but he shakes his head.

"don't," he stops you. "i would do it again if you needed it."

"well if you find me crying over some loser again tonight you have full permission to slap me," you tell him. "one night was enough."

"noted," he laughs, awkwardly standing in your room, unsure if he can get back into bed with you. you pick up on the way his eyes keep flitting from you to his spot, and you pat the empty space so he'll sit down.

"stop being weird," you say, bumping shoulders with him once he's comfortably next to you again. "so how'd you sleep?"

"pretty good," he starts out, "but there was this really annyoing sound coming from your side of the bed?"

"oh you mean me crying?"

"no, like this really loud, obnoxious snoring, kinda like-" jeonghan starts demonstrating, sending you into a fit of giggles and a pushing match to get him to stop.

"i think that was you!" you shriek, carefully trying not to spill your coffee. "don't spill that in my bed, i'll kill you."

"and then who are you gonna cuddle at night?" jeonghan asks, regretting it when he feels the tension between you both.

"i could always cuddle with jack," you joke to break the awkwardness, and jeonghan rolls his eyes.

"i hate that you named the skeleton."

"the skeleton is a guest in our home," you tease him. "show him some respect."

"whatever, freak," he says before downing the rest of his coffee. he gets an idea then, turning to you to ask, "what are you doing today?"

"um, nothing except work," you reply. "but you know my job is barely real so i'm basically doing nothing."

"let's go get coffee," jeonghan says, a playful look in his eyes.

"we just had coffee," you point out.

"no, no, we'll get good coffee, you can do some work, i'll watch you do some work, it'll be great," he insists, getting up and pulling you out of bed with him.

"if you're still trying to cheer me up i swear i'm fine," you say through your laughter, pressing back against jeonghan trying to push you toward your closet. "you don't need to take me for coffee or do anything else to make me feel better. i'm fine now."

"glad to hear it," he smiles softly, squeezing your hand that's clasped firmly in his. "but i still want to get coffee, so get dressed or everyone at the cafe will see you in that god forsaken t shirt."

the t shirt in question is one that jeonghan found for you during one of your goodwill visits. for whatever reason, it says 'i shaved my balls for this' and it got the biggest laugh from you all night, so jeonghan had to bring it home. despite being awful colors (light blue paired with neon yellow) it's actually quite comfortable, and you love the way it makes jeonghan laugh every time you wear it. it's unironically become your favorite sleep shirt, but you are mortified at the thought of anyone aside from your best friend seeing you in it. you quickly change, grabbing your work laptop from your desk before you head into the living room to find jeonghan waiting for you.

it's not unusual for him to take you out on random adventures, but this one feels different. he stays closer to you than normal, insists on buying your drink, and you catch him actually watching you work.

"get a hobby," you mumble, looking down at your laptop so he hopefully won't see your blushing cheeks.

"this is my hobby," he says. "i'm hanging out with my favorite person."

"seungcheol's going to be very sad to hear he's been demoted," you tease.

"he knows where he stands," jeonghan says, still watching you intently. you can't take it anymore, staring back at him.

"seriously, pretend to read or something! you're distracting me."

"i'm distracting you?" he smiles. "why? i'm not doing anything."

"i'm sending this email and then we're leaving," you say, and he shrugs.

"if you want, baby."

baby. it hits you harder this time, jeonghan's silly little nickname for you. you thought it started off as a sarcastic thing, but recently you feel like it sounds sweeter and sweeter coming from his lips. after last night, it makes your heart skip a beat, and that's when it hits you: are you on a date with jeonghan right now?!

"wait. waitwaitwait. hold on," you say, pointing at jeonghan and then yourself. "is this a date? are we on a date?"

"what? no baby," he shakes his head, and now you're confused. "no, if we were on a date you'd know."

"what's that supposed to mean?" you squeak out.

"do you want us to be on a date right now?" jeonghan counters, and you know your blushing cheeks have you in trouble. "you do?"

"i-i don't know-"

"hm, you wanna go on a date with me," jeonghan says matter of factly. "well, that's good to know."

"what are you doing?" you ask as he starts cleaning up his space.

"oh i need to go back to the apartment," he says. "gotta get my laptop so i can start planning a date that's worthy of you. i'll see you at home?"

"jeonghan, what?" you're left sputtering as he heads to the door, not looking back even though he knows your staring. he's afraid you'll see the excited/nervous shake in his hands, so he needs to go cool off. well, that and plan the best date of your entire life. he's got a lot of ground to cover. thankfully, the idiots you usually grace your time with have set the bar pretty low. jeonghan is determined to bring it higher, so high in fact that you won't be able to go on another first date without comparing it to his. if things go right though, maybe you won't have to go on a first date ever again.

jeonghan left the coffeeshop before you, so it would make sense if he was at the apartment when you got back, right? wrong. you come home about an hour later to an empty home, no sign of jeonghan. you think that's fine, it gives you a chance to actually get some work done. but jeonghan being mia has you a little nervous. what's he doing? he said he was going to plan a date. for you. and him. you and jeonghan...on a date? that's crazy.

you've done a good job ignoring that whole concept, trying to get ahead on a project you need to present later this week. you're so hyperfocused that the whole day goes by before you realize it, and when you finally emerge from your room you really expect to find jeonghan in the living room. he's still gone, so you decide to text him, asking casually if he would be home for dinner. the domesticity isn't lost on you, and it makes jeonghan smile when he gets it. he decides to call instead of texting back, balancing his phone against his shoulder and his cheek once you pick up.

"you miss me or something?" he asks, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

"i was just curious," you reply nonchalantly. "you've been missing all day."

"i've been busy."

"oh ok."

"i'll be home soon though," he tells you. "don't make dinner, just make sure you're dressed in an hour."

"for what?"

"a surprise."

"i need more information and you know that," you scoff, and you hear jeonghan chuckle.

"dress nice, but not fancy. and wear something blue so we'll match," he explains, and you feel your cheeks warm. "i gotta go, but i'll see you soon, baby."

hearing that coming from jeonghan now makes your heart skip a beat, and it makes you wonder if you've always felt like this and you just didn't notice. you keep thinking about him as you get ready, steaming out a dress you were planning to wear on a date that didn't happen. it's a soft blue with long sleeves and a low tie in the front. you worry for a moment that it might be too revealing, but checking the time rushes you into action. you're almost ready when there's a knock at the front door, which you ignore. there's another knock, this time louder, so you grumble your way to the living room to peek through the peephole. you gasp when you see what's on the other side.

you throw the door open, revealing a visibly nervous jeonghan with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. he's wearing a blue shirt, almost the exact shade of your dress, and he openly stares at you with a happy smile and a look in his eyes that you've never seen before.

"jeonghan?" you ask, pulling him from his intense focus on your chest.

"y/n," he smiles, eyes flicking up to yours. "you look stunning."

"i'm not ready yet," you pout slightly, checking the time on your phone. "you weren't very specific about when you were coming home."

"you look perfect," he says, checking you out again. "what else could you need to do?"

"wouldn't you like to know?" you tease, and he rolls his eyes.

"i can give you ten minutes, but any longer than that and we'll be late."

"late for what?" you ask as he passes you the flowers. "these are beautiful by the way, carnations are-"

"your favorite, i know," he smiles softly. "you buy yourself a bunch almost every time you're at the grocery store."

"i can't remember the last time someone bought me flowers either," you mumble, opening the door enough for jeonghan to come inside. "what are you still doing out there? it's your house, come in."

"finish getting ready," he laughs at you, reaching for the flowers again. "i'm putting them in a vase, weirdo. you'll get them back when you're done getting pretty."

"i'll be back," you whisper, running off before he can see how nervous you just got. you try to calm your nerves as you finish your touch ups, panicking last minute over which shoes and purse go with your outfit.

jeonghan is sitting on the couch, your flowers in your favorite vase on the coffeetable. he perks up at the sound of you shuffling down the hallway, but he pouts when he sees you holding up all your shoes.

"y/n, we're gonna be late."

"i don't know which ones to wear," you say simply, and he smiles as he comes up to you, analyzing the choices. he picks the white shoes and the white purse.

"glad we're still keeping this tradition alive even though i'm the one taking you out this time," he says proudly, watching you get situated. you stand back up, mussing your hair one last time before he asks, "ready to go, beautiful?"

"i don't know why i'm so nervous," you tell him, taking his arm as you leave the apartment. "we hang out all the time."

"yeah, but this isn't us hanging out," jeonghan says as you wait for the elevator. "i'm taking you on the best date of your life. nerves are completely valid."

"are you nervous?" you whisper, leaning in so jeonghan gets a good whiff of your perfume that he loves finding traces of all through his life. he holds your gaze, eyes flicking down momentarily before he shakes his head.

"no, i thought i would be, but i'm not," he replies simply as you get on the elevator.

"ok good, so i'll just freak out for the both of us then."

"would you? that takes a lot of pressure off of me," jeonghan jokes, and you pinch his arm. "ouch! so mean to me when i've made the perfect night for you."

"and what does this perfect night entail?" you ask. jeonghan just shakes his head, leading you out into the lobby of the building. he takes you a different way, not walking to the parking garage but instead to the main entrance of your building. "jeonghan, are we walking there? i don't think i can make it in these shoes-"

you stop mid-sentence, spotting the shiny baby blue mustang convertible parked outside. you look at jeonghan, mouth open in surprise. he has to tug you down the hallway and out into the cool night air, helping you into the passenger seat with ease. you watch on in shock as he gets into the driver's side, finally cutting through the fog in your mind to ask, "do you even know how to drive this?"

"yeah," jeonghan says coolly, opening the glovebox to hand you a scrunchie of yours that he stole. "here, you might wanna put your hair up."

"you're insane," you tell him, playing with the scrunchie in your lap as he starts the car. you can't believe this so far, and the date's barely begun. what other surprises could he possibly have in store for you?

after a quick ride out of the city, you find yourself at a retro drive in that's completely empty. you have a sneaking suspicion jeonghan rented it just for the two of you tonight, but you don't have a chance to ask. once he parks, he's asking you to open the glovebox and you smile when you see the stack of movie theatre candy boxes he's stashed away. you take them out, turning back to jeonghan to see he's produced a tub of popcorn from somewhere and a couple of your favorite sodas. you stare at him with your mouth opening and closing like a fish and he just smiles proudly in return.

"jeonghan, what did you do?" you finally ask, and he laughs.

"do you like it?"

"what are we doing here?"

"watching a movie," he says obviously. he shifts the snacks, the drinks going into the holders by the radio and the popcorn and candy going on the dashboard. "come closer," he mumbles, tugging your arm. the smooth vinyl of the seats sending you flying into jeonghan's side, and you giggle nervously as you adjust your dress. jeonghan lays the snacks out over your laps and drapes his arm across your shoulders for good measure. he looks at you to gauge whether you're settled or not, and when he decides you're ready he presses on the horn once. the screen in front of you lights up, and you gasp as you see the opening credits for your favorite movie flashing before you.

"where did you get the idea to do this?" you ask him with a smile, taking a few pieces of popcorn to give you something to do with your hands.

"just thought it would be something different," he shrugs, and you leave it at that. you can barely focus on the movie, hyperaware of how warm jeonghan is next to you and how every glance he casts your way sends your heart racing faster and faster. a few minutes into it, you remember your hair is still tied up from the ride, so you shuffle out of jeonghan's grasp to pull the scrunchie down and reset yourself. you know jeonghan is watching, so you mumble, "watch the movie, weirdo."

"i've seen it before," he whispers back, eyes still heavy on you. "i'm not missing anything."

"you've seen me before too," you point out, leaning back into his side once you're done moving around. "quite a lot, actually."

"yeah, but i've never seen you on a date before," he says. "and on a date with me? whoa. i gotta soak it all in."

you turn to look at him then, admiring the way his hair falls so slightly into his eyes, the way his lips stretch over his shy smile, how his eyes glisten when they meet yours. you could kick yourself for not noticing any of this sooner. who knew you had exactly what you were looking for right here?

"jeonghan, i-" you start, but realize you don't have the words to tell him what you want to say. you stop, staring at him with your brows furrowed cutely.

"what, baby?" he laughs, his thumb coming up to trace the creases in your forehead. "you're gonna give yourself premature wrinkles like this."

"why are you doing this?" you ask quietly. "why are you so...wonderful? all the time?"

"because," he shrugs, his hand falling from your forehead to rest just below your chin. "i've been trying to show you what it would be like. took you long enough to come around."

"show me what?" you ask confused.

"what it's like being loved by me," he smiles back. you feel your breath catch in your throat, and you want to say something. you want to tell him how you feel, how you're sorry it took you so long, how you love every moment you spend with jeonghan by your side. instead you just lean forward, lips brushing over his. you bring your hands up to his neck, wrapping them in the soft hair at the back of his head as you scoot impossibly closer and try to press all your love into this one kiss. jeonghan keeps his hold on your chin, thumb stroking softly at your cheek. he's the first one to pull back, laughing when you try to bring his lips back to yours so quickly. he leans his forehead against yours, soft hair tickling your skin as he asks, "so you get it now?"

"yeah," you nod, knocking your heads together and sending you both into a fit of giggles. jeonghan steals a few more kisses, and when you finally calm down he pulls you back into his side, squeezing you as close to him as possible. you lay your head down on his shoulder, pressing your lips into the closest part of him you can reach. "thank you, jeonghan. my jeonghan."

"my y/n," he sighs, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "my beautiful, kind, funny girl."

"stop staring," you whisper bashfully. "you're missing the movie."

"i'm not missing anything," he repeats, but he takes one last look at you before he kisses the top of your head and finally turns back to the screen. this might be your first date with jeonghan, but it certainly won't be your last.

#yoon jeonghan #yoon jeonghan fic #yoon jeonghan imagine #yoon jeonghan one shot #yoon jeonghan fluff #seventeen #seventeen fic #seventeen x reader #jeonghan x reader #svt imagines #svt x reader #svt one shot #svt fluff #seventeen imagines

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unholyhelbig · 3 months

Note

i would love a one shot of nat interacting w ronnie! maybe r is caught up doing a job for nat and nat has to pick ronnie up from school and domesticity w r ensues?

Title: The Carpool Lane [an Oversight Oneshot]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: You get caught up while running an errand for Natasha and aren't able to pick your daughter up from school. You ask Natasha to do it and she has to grapple with some big feelings.

[a/n: Hello! I promise you all that the last official chapter of the Oversight is going to be posted soon. It is a very heavy one so here is some fluff in the meantime! Also, I'm opening my requests again, so feel free to send some my way.]

Warnings: None that I can think of other than horrible grammar, but please let me know if I need to add any!

Check out the full Oversight universe

The air in the home office had become sticky and cloying. It often did when the sun decided to shine as strongly as it did. Natasha kept her books clean and clear of dust but often times there was only so much she could do. Large particles floated in the crossfire of a golden glow. It almost pained her to wrench the window open and disrupt the flow.

It was difficult for Natasha to keep focus when she could hear the sounds from outside and feel the soft breeze on her skin. She was often known for her dedication, for her focus and her ruthlessness. But on afternoons, she was stuck doing mountains of paperwork when she’d much rather be doing you.

Natasha often drifted into hazed memories of the whimpers that escaped you, your breathless swears interlaced with the intoxicating way you moaned her name. She liked teasing you until you begged for her, until you needed her more than you needed breath, until you arched your back and cried into the thousand thread count sheets.

Of course, her favorite thing was to bring you to the very edge with her just her delicate touch and her sultry words. You’d come undone underneath her, coated in sweat and ready to please as an orgasm rocked through- an annoying ringtone.

Natasha had shoved her phone into the bottom drawer of her desk to gain some focus. It clearly wasn’t working. Her nails scratched across the rich oak of the desks surface before she pawed around.

Yelena had set her ringtone to the loudest, most obnoxious blowhorn she could find. She claimed that Natasha was losing her touch and often couldn’t hear anything past her own thoughts. And so, what if that was the case? Natasha quite liked her thoughts lately.

“Romanoff,” She drawled, voice dripping with annoyance.

“Hi,”

It took one breathless word from you and everything else was forgotten. There was worry in that single syllable and it made Natasha’s world spin for only a second before she got her bearings. She could do this. She was in charge.

“Tell me where you are.”

“You know where I am, you sent me here yourself.” You chuckled in a low whisper. Natasha had sent you to collect rent from your usual charges. She knew your pattern and could hear the low hum of the row of washing machines behind you.

While she prided herself on her ability to train you into the perfect protector with a quick hand a vicious tongue, she wouldn’t dare change a thing about your soft spots. You had particular one for the family that rented the apartment above the Soapsuds laundry mat and ran it seamlessly.

It was nearly impossible for you to say no to the elderly woman that took up residence with her son. She’d make you tea and you’d indulge in cookies as she regaled you with her charming stories from the 40’s.

“She’s a trained killer, ma, she doesn’t have time for this!”

Natasha heard the son’s accented voice muffle it’s way through the phone. She scoffed, and switched her phone to her other ear. You must have put your palm over the receiver because you were garbled too.

“I absolutely have time for this Miss Vazquez.” You returned to your conversation, voice whispered once more. “I don’t have time for this, Nat. I don’t want to break her frail heart. Could you possibly… pick Ronnie up from school?”

Natasha had been rendered silent, which wasn’t a feat that was often achieved in a shocking manner. Usually, if a Romanoff was quiet, they were busy calculating and it was better to avoid the storm brewing behind their eyes. This wasn’t the same kind of soundlessness.

She had to pick her jaw off the floor. Veronica was your entire life, and though Natasha came in for a close second, you would do absolutely anything for that child. You’d walk through fire, and it was testament to your growing trust with Natasha, having her pick your daughter up from school.

“Nat, baby” your voice came through the phone “did I lose you? If it’s too much I can get Darcy to take a later lunch. It’s not a problem at all. I shouldn’t have asked, you’re a busy woman and-“

“I’d love to.”

“Huh?”

“I can pick her up, y/n, really.”

Her palms started to sweat, and Natasha never sweated. She stood up and started to pace the length of her office, entering and exiting the large stream of light that vented in through the window. She listened carefully as you told her word for word how to enter the car line, and what mothers to avoid entirely.

“I’ll call ahead, let them know you’re safe to pick up Ronnie. Thank you for doing this, Natty. I appreciate it.”

She smiled, biting her thumbnail. She stopped at the window and peered out at the newly installed swing set at the edge of the property. So many little things had changed in Natasha’s life over the last year. There were children’s books strewn over the tables and art supplies that Ronnie loved to draw with. This was an extra step. This was the extra step that made her fingers itch for the ring hidden in the false bottom of her desk.

“Darling! Would you like to hear about the night I had with Robert Kennedy?”

“I would love to, Miss Vazquez!” You called back, lowering your voice once more. “I love you, I’ll see you at home. Dinner is on me.”

You had hung up the phone a few moments ago but Natasha kept it against her face for a few moments as if it were an anchor. She had to pick up Ronnie. She had to pick up Ronnie. Natasha was on her feet now, searching the large living room and foyer, and even the nightstands by her bed before she grasped at her keys and sprinted out the door.

Veronia was a girl of very little words, but she was comfortable enough around Natasha to curl into her side during movie nights, little fist clenching onto the fabric of her shirt. Most of the time, she’d fall asleep before the end of the film and Natasha would stare affectionately as you scooped her up and took her to her room.

Now, Natasha sat in the parking lot of the school with blood rushing past her ears. Somehow, the gaggle of mothers that lingered by the release doors were scarier than anything she had ever faced before.

She’d been shot at least four times and had survived them all. She had pulled the trigger herself more times than she could count, but all of curious eyes landing on her sleek black car made her nearly sweat through her t-shirt.

Natasha stalled as long as she could before taking the tentative steps across the asphalt lot. There was a small patch of green grass that seemed to be overwatered if it still held its vibrant color during a late heated day.

Her sunglasses were down over her eyes and she feigned looking at her phone, though she eyed each and every parent that lingered. They were openly staring at her, and she heard a few hushed whispers, absolutely no attempt to muffle their judgements.

“Don’t pay them any mind.”

Natasha startled, not noticing the woman that had sidled up next to her. Her skin was pale, her hair a pitch-black color that must have heated her up on a day like this. She stuck her hand out and Natasha took it carefully, shaking it. “Jessica Jones.”

“Natasha Y/L/N,”

The woman was apprehensive to use her own last name. While she kept a mostly low profile, there were still some people who would clock the name as something familiar. The last thing she needed was someone targeting you, or God-forbid, Ronnie. The words fit perfectly into her mouth like a sweet candy.

“I’ve never seen you around here before, and apparently neither have the vultures with the way they’re circling.”

She couldn’t help but smile “I’m… new. My partner got a little tied up at work and asked me to pick up her daughter.”

“Ah, so you’re that Natasha.” She must have flushed awkwardly, nervously, because Jessica seemed to backtrack. “Nothing bad. There are moms like the women over there who put their entire being into making everything perfectly beige. Then there are moms like y/n and I. Imperfect.”

Natasha’s eyebrows lifted. Each woman that flocked towards the front of the glass doors, waiting excitedly for their children to spill out did have the same look about them. They all wore leggings and different colored pastel shirts. Each one had the same highlights and haircuts, and apprehensive stares.

“We’re out here a lot together, and it was pretty obvious when things started to change for her. With you around, the smile actually reaches her eyes you know?”

The statement warmed Natasha greatly and made the box in her desk weigh heavier on her mind. Of course, she didn’t want to think too much about it, but she also wanted to make sure that you were happy, something you reassured her of over and over again.

Natasha opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by the barrage of tiny feet on the sidewalks and grass. There was a sea of runny noses and crinkled papers slathered in different primary colors.

A small boy with dark ringlets of hair crashed into Jessica’s legs clumsily and she let out a large huff of air in response, scooping him up into her arms. He had the most startling blue eyes like his mother and gave Natasha a gap-toothed-goofy smile.

Natasha was searching the crowd for your daughter. It wasn’t like she would call out, that was much too vocal for her and Natasha didn’t blame the girl in the slightest. Through the sea of kids, her eyes locked on Ronnie’s and she gave her an encouraging smile and a small wave.

Veronica’s expression lit up as she dashed the few feet that was separating them. Natasha had the foresight to lean down enough to dampen the impact of her hug. It was quite the rare occasion to be embraced by her, so she savored the spring scent of her.

“Your mama got caught up at work and asked me to pick you up.” Natasha explained, leaning back on her heel, she brushed a strand of hair behind Ronnie’s ear. “What’s that?”

Natasha gently pointed to the picture that was in Veronica’s hand. Her chest welled with pride at the drawing and she would say that it was miles better than any other kid she saw run out with their artwork. Yelena had been right; Ronnie had a beautiful gift that Natasha would pour everything into for as long as she wanted to call it her craft.

This particular scene was a rendition of the large house, too big to fit within the confines of the paper. There was six figures that vaguely resembled each person Natasha knew and loved. A clear grouping had been established.

Kate was smeared in a purple color with dark locks of hair.

Yelena had been drawn next to her, hand and hand.

Clint stood close to them- but not too close- with his signature deep look.

What called to Natasha the most was how Ronnie had grouped her. There was a figure by the edge of the page that was clearly you, down to a tea, and a shorter figure right next to you that was unmistakably Ronnie. The two figures held hands; and on the other side, with her signature deep auburn hair and green eyes, stood Natasha. Her fingers were wrapped around Ronnie’s in the photo, too smudges of color that made the enforcers heart thrum harder than it ever had before.

“This is beautiful,” Natasha breathed, struggling not to let the water that built up in her eyes drip down her cheeks. That would be weird. It would freak Ronnie out. “I love it.”

“You do?” The girl asked.

“I do. In fact, it’s getting framed and hung up immediately.”

It was rare for Ronnie to speak, but it was a prize each time she did. Just like you, Natasha had begun to understand her body language and everything she said with her eyes. It was something she would grow out of, or maybe she would speak with just her art.

Either way, Natasha read her loud and clear.

It was well past ten pm by the time you had pulled yourself away from the laundry mat. You ended up eating dinner with the family despite your repeated refusal. It was some of the best food you have ever eaten and though you missed the quality time with Natasha, the vodka coating on the pasta would have you reeling for weeks.

The house was mostly dark by the time you returned, and you were careful when you let your keys drop into the dish by the door. A soft golden light streamed down the hallway, leading to the kitchen.

Natasha would often partake in a glass of red wine, a record playing softly in the background. It was her time to unwind, to do the dished from dinner and breathe out the stress of the day. Just like any office job. Sometimes she’d use the time to scrub away blood from under her nails as you waited patiently and took sparing sips from her glass despite denying wanting one of your own.

The sink wasn’t on, and the kitchen was mostly silent save for a faucet drip here and there. Natasha leaned against the counter and stared at the moonlit swing set in the yard. It was bathed in just enough pale light to make out the shapes drifting in the light breeze.

You came up behind her, snaking your arms around her waist and resting your head on her shoulder. She shivered against the coolness of your skin, but hugged you tight against her center with a comforting and raspy hum.

“Thank you for picking up Ronnie today,” you mumbled into the side of her neck, “And getting her to bed. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

Natasha turned in your arms and had a bit of a pout to her expression that you weren’t expecting. You lifted an inquisitive eyebrow at her. You wanted to kiss that frown right off her lips. You wanted to lull her into a state of content after the long day you’d had.

Almost timidly, she said “We’re a family. That’s what we do.”

God, how long you’d wanted to hear that. This time, you didn’t hesitate to close to the distance between you both. You kissed her softly; you kissed her with so much love that it left you dizzy.

You’d scared away partners before with the prospect of having a daughter. Most of the time, you wouldn’t’ even bring it up until a third date, when you were close to sure. But even then, you’d be left at the restaurant, or the bowling alley, or the movie theatre by yourself once the words left your mouth.

Nothing about your relationship with Natasha had been conventional, however, and each day she shocked you with her tenderness and care for someone she had no responsibility towards. Just letting you and Ronnie move in had been enough. Parenting her? Loving her? It felt beyond reality.

She chuckled into the kiss, running her fingers down your jaw. “I love you too, detka.”

“Mm, seriously, thank you.”

“Do you want to see something?”

You lifted your eyebrows suggestively and earned a light-hearted smack to the shoulder. She wormed her way out of your embrace and crossed the large kitchen to the fridge. When you’d first moved in, it was blank. There was a single wedding invitation tacked up with a magnet for joining the Murdock and Natchios families in matrimony, but even that had been years old.

Now there was something new.

Something that had unmistakably been crafted by Ronnie. The photo was a beautiful mix of colors and mediums and at the very corner in, in blue crayon, were two words; My Family.

[Taglist🕷♡: @dumbasslesbi, @lostremind, @toouncreativeforausername @autorasexy @eringranola @mikookaaaaaao @marvelwoman-simp @pacmanmiles @mostlymarvelsstuff, @mrsrushman, @milfsandtittyenthusiast, @random-raccoon4, @ravenromanova, @mysticalmoonlight7, @ahintofchaos@cowboyboots236 @lissaaaa145, @natsxwife@a-spes, @kyleeservopoulos]

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iheartcake123 · 5 months

Text

yeong-hu x f! reader

warnings: contains some spoilers from S2 Sweet Home

a/n: this fic will contain certain parts which happened in S2 but won’t be 100% accurate!! also i had to write a fic about this man, he IS husband material + if any of you have read my other fics you know how much i suck at endings so im sorry about this ending🤣 i hope you enjoy it either way though!!

Masterlist

everyday was the same thing, wake up, stand in line for roll call and do your part to help with the survival of the group. the crow platoons ensured safety but supplies were running low.

before everything happened, you were a doctor and had served some time in the military as a doctor too. you kept that second part a secret though. you refused to get involved with the crow platoon in that aspect. they were usually looking to get more people with military experience to join them.

you were quite happy just being like everyone else and doing doctor duties when people really needed it. supplies were always low for what you did and you found yourself just making do with anything.

the morning started like all others. people doing little things they were assigned to do. then the announcement for roll call was made and you lined up with everyone. the crow platoon were going on an expedition for more supplies.

everyone stood in line as members of the crow platoon did their checks. they needed to make sure everyone was accounted for before they left.

you were stood with yeong-su and jin-ok. yeong-su had a baseball in his hand and was throwing it up and down.

“you should stop before they see” you told yeong-su to which he rolled his eyes and continued throwing his ball, that was until he dropped it.

the sound of the ball rolling seemed to be the only sound until it came to a stop. it had hit the shoes of one of the crow platoon soldiers. the soldier u-seok picked the ball up and yeong-su started to get upset.

“give it back to me! give it back!” yeong-su complained trying to reach up and grab the ball but the soldier held it higher.

suddenly, then the soldier grabbed a hold of yeong-su’ arm and held it in place.

“when did he get this scar?” u-seok questioned.

“it’s from last night” jin-ok chimed in and began to hold onto yeong-su.

“it looks fresher than that” u-seok tightened his grip on the young boy.

“sir, it doesn’t seem serious” the other soldier chan-young said looking between the two.

“what would you know about it? we have to be sure” u-seok then took out his knife and tried to cut yeong-su.

“just. just let him go. he’s just a child..ok?” jin-ok held yeong-su protectively.

“kids can be monsters too. there’s no exceptions”

“then let jin-ok do it herself” you stepped forward and jin-ok nodded profusely.

“yes, i’ll do it myself” jin-ok addded.

“you should’ve done it last night” the soldier then tried to cut yeong-su.

before he could make contact with the young boys skin, you stopped him. you stood forward and held onto the knife. your hand wrapped around the sharp blade and you did a manoeuvre to get the knife from the guard.

you held the knife up to his throat, your hand was covered in blood but you didn’t care. u-seok was acting like an ass and needed to be taught a lesson.

“maybe you should start doing your job properly and focus on more important things like getting more medical supplies rather than picking on a little kid” you said through grit teeth putting the knife down.

“you think you’re so tough huh?” u-seok snatched the knife from you and then latched his hand onto your top.

“sir, we have other important matters” chan-young tried to step in.

“you finish up here, im taking this one to sarge. then we’ll see if she has anything more to say”

you then found yourself being dragged with full force through the various halls. u-seok kept his grip on you and even though you tried to push him away from you, it was no use.

eventually, you reached the area where the crow platoon gather together and get set up for their expeditions. the room was full of some of the other soldiers

“let go of me asshole!” you cursed at him and he then threw you to the floor.

you landed on the cold floor and winced slightly as you tried to get up. you hand was still bloody and sore from earlier.

“what’s this?” sergeant kim (yeong-hu) walked in, his eyes focused to you.

“sarge, this one here managed to get a hold of my knife and held it to my throat. she’s definitely hiding something!” u-seok said loudly.

“this isn’t how we treat people u-seok. doesn’t matter what they’ve done” yeong-hu walked up to you and held his hand out.

you glared at him before getting up yourself. you didn’t need his hand.

“i haven’t done anything wrong. your poor excuse of a soldier u-seok picked on a little kid today. so all i did was tell him to focus on more important things like getting more supplies. especially medical supplies” you defended yourself and decided to speak your mind. “we have sick people and they need treatment. honestly i haven’t seen anything this bad ever since i served-“

you soon stopped yourself after realising you had just exposed yourself. god, you only hoped he wasn’t listening to that last part.

“served? are you telling me that you used to be in the military?” yeong-hu folded his arms and you meekly nodded.

there was no use lying now.

“go get ready” yeong-hu told you firmly and you raised an eyebrow.

“for what?” you questioned. why did you have to get ready.

“just get ready and then we’ll talk…?” he looked at you and you said your name.

“y/n…” he then said before brushing you aside and turning to his men “everyone we leave in five minutes. be ready.”

you now found yourself sat in the backseat of a military truck with yeong-hu and one of his other men named seok-chan in the front. your hand was now wrapped too and you had your bag with you. your own personal knife hiding in the front pocket just in case.

“where are you going to take me?” you questioned.

“you suggested that we need more medical supplies, you must know where we can find some” yeong-hubanswered while looking at a map in his hands. he didn’t bother looking at you.

you were being weary. what if he was lying? but also why would they bring you? you could’ve just marked a map up for them.

you remained silent as you waited for some of the other soldiers of crow platoon to get into the other vehicles.

“are you dating anyone sarge?” seok-chan smirked “a lot of our boys are seeing someone on the down low, you know?”

“are you?” yeong-hu responded.

“i cant. unless you start dating, i can’t wreck the chain of command”

“i feel no need for it”

“is it because you couldn’t find the right person?..it’s just, well i’ve been thinking and i mean you’re good looking and a survivor, you’re good at killing monsters and as a leader. you’re a prize catch in today’s standards. so, why can’t you get a girl? don’t you think y/n?”

you scoffed “as if anyone would want someone as cold and confusing as your sergeant”

yeong-hu turned his head and shot you a stern look at seok-chan awkwardly laughed.

“she’s probably just joking sarge” he cleared his throat as yeong-hu glared at him “let’s just focus on the mission”

“good idea” you added.

-time skip (im sorry im feeling lazy💀)-

you hated to admit it but going on the expedition with the crow platoon guys was actually pretty interesting and fun. it was the first time in god knows how long that you actually went outside and got hands on.

it was currently raining and you were taking in every second of it as you packed the final bits of medical supplies you had found.

“thank you” you said loudly to yeong-hu and he turned to look at you “really thank you”

yeong-hu was just about to respond but suddenly a loud explosion was heard. everyone’s heads turned to where the sound had come from.

“that came from camp, right?” seok-chan said.

“we need to prepare to head back!” yeong-hu called out loud to everyone and everyone began to get into the trucks.

it was decided to draw the monsters away from the stadium. the crow platoon had a plan, the only problem was that they didn’t get you involved.

“give me a gun. i can help” you demanded.

“forget it. i let you come to help look for supplies, that’s all. leave the rest to us” yeong-hu then opened the truck door for you to get inside.

with a loud huff you gave in and sat in the truck at the platoon men did their thing. once it was over, you found yourself back at the stadium.

you followed yeong-hu and the rest of the platoon members back into camp. you held your bag full of medical supplies on your shoulders, already thinking of places to store your new items.

as you continued on, seargent tak appeared.

“ten hut!” he called out and everyone around you turned to focus on him.

“sir, what was that explosion i heard?” yeong-hu asked stepping forward.

“a women tried to run and triggered a mine earlier. it exploded before we could properly defuse it” sergeant tak explained.

“which platoon member was overseeing them?”

from behind seargent tak, chan-young had approached them.

“I was in charge sir” chan-young stood straight “im private park”

you liked chan-young. he was by far the nicest platoon member out of them all. you didn’t know him well but from what you had seen before, he didn’t have a bad bone in his body.

“it’s behind us now. we moved on” sergeant tak told yeong-hu.

“and the runner? removed. i assume,huh? park chan-young!” yeong-hu was clearly pissed.

“she was showing monster symptoms so we isolated her” chan-young said.

“isolated?” yeong-hu raised an eyebrow.

“i insisted we keep her here.”’

once chan-young said those words, yeong-hu lost it and punched him. he fell into some old metal barrels but stood straight after a second so, yeong-hu punched him again- even harder. chan-young finally fell to the floor and he received a foot to the stomach.

“are you crazy? stop!” you yelled pushing yeong-hu so that he wouldn’t hurt chan-young any further.

“you stay out of this” yeong-hu grit his teeth, his stare like daggers.

if looks could kill, you would’ve been dead.

he then stormed off and you shook your head disappointedly as you helped chan-young get up.

———————————————————————————————

over the next few days, you noticed yeong-hu around. whenever he locked eyes with you, you’d pretend to not notice and whenever it was roll call you’d hope that it wouldn’t be him doing the checks. luckily for you it wasn’t him.

you couldn’t get him out of your head. he’d made an impression on you. good or bad? you didn’t know which one yet. but it was definitely a strong impression. you knew that.

“come with me” one of the platoon members had come to grab you.

“what for?” you were curious. after all, it had come out of no where.

“just come” the member said and began to walk away.

with a sigh you decided to follow.

“through there” the member then gestured for you to go in.

with a gulp, you pushed the door open and stepped inside. and there was yeong-hu. he had his hands on his hips while staring at a map up on a board, his head flicked in your direction and he then turned his full attention to you.

“where have your friends eun-yu and chan-young gone? they’re missing from roll call” yeong-hu asked while looking you up and down.

“how would i know where they are? i don’t keep tabs on them” you shrugged and paused “but…even if i did know, what makes you think i’d tell you. huh?”

“y/n i don’t have time for your childish games. you need to tell me straight if you know where they went”

“i just told you. i don’t know. i didn’t even know they were missing…now, can i go?”

yeong-hu nodded his head and you kissed your teeth as you turned to walk out the room. you were then stopped as you felt a hand on you. the force of the hand made you spin around to face yeong-hu. he was closer than before and you gulped as he scanned your face.

“if you see your friends, you need to tell me immediately” he told you and you nodded lightly.

your heart was beating fast because of how close he was and his hand was oddly warm and soft.

when you finally left the room, you couldn’t help but feel hot. your heart was still beating extremely fast and you hadn’t realised before but yeong-hu was actually really attractive.

stop! you told yourself.

you can’t like him.

you don’t like him.

the rest of the day passed by extremely slowly and you tried to distract yourself by doing different chores. none of it seemed to work as your mind constantly wandered back to one specific person.

that same person also couldn’t get you out of his head. he was trying to focus on his duties but you were constantly lingering in his mind. there was something about you. he couldn’t put his finger on it but he knew he had strong feelings for you. he just didn’t know if they were good or bad.

you tried sleeping. but you couldn’t. instead you were stuck tossing and turning trying to force yourself. it wasn’t working.

after sitting up, you slipped your shoes on and made your way to the crow platoon area. there was only one way to get your mind off that one person. you needed to face your feelings.

you wondered back to the room from earlier. your palms became sweaty once you were stood directly outside the door and your heart began to race. with whatever courage in you, you knocked lightly on the door and when you heard yeong-hu’ voice. you entered.

“y/n, it’s you” yeong-hu was slightly taken aback “have you found out where your friends went?”

you shook your head “sorry, no. i just couldn’t sleep. im guessing it’s the same for you too?”

“oh uh yeah, there’s a lot on my mind”

a silence then filled the room. you suddenly didn’t know what to say. for a while you both then didn’t say a word to one another.

“i should go. you must have a lot of things to do” you awkwardly tried to make an excuse to leave and began to head to the door.

“stay” yeong-hu’ voice was firm and you paused in your tracks.

“what?” you questioned not daring to turn around.

“stay y/n” he repeated.

“i should get going.” you reached forward to grab the door handle.

without warning, yeong-hu stood in front of you and was now blocking the door.

“y/n, there’s something about you. i don’t quite understand it. even when you’re not there, you linger in my mind. i think about you and i shouldn’t.” yeong-hu’ confession caught you off guard.

“what are you saying?” you breathed out, unable to say anything else.

“i like you”

as soon as he said those words you felt a weight being lifted off your shoulders.

he had made it easy for you and your feelings towards him were now clear too.

“i like you too” you couldn’t help the smile that appeared on your face.

yeong-hu brought his hand up to your cheek and gently cupped up. he looked between your eyes and your lips for permission and when you nodded lightly, he leaned forward and pressed your lips together.

and for once everything just felt right.

#kdrama imagine #writing #kdrama x reader #sweet home x reader #sweet home imagines #sweet home #yeong hu x reader #yeong hu fic #yeong hu imagine #sweet home fic #sweet home masterlist #sergeant kim

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coldbronzemoon · 1 year

Text

Danny Fenton, Totally Mortal Hero Consultant (DPxDC)

Snippet for an AU I'll probably never fully write where Danny takes a job as a consultant for the Justice League to help with ghost and demon bullshit. It's a pretty good cash flow to help him with college, after all, and very flexible hours.

He just claims all his knowledge comes from his parents. Unfortunately, the JL has caught word of the elusive yet active hero Phantom, and want Danny to help them meet and assess him. Whoops.

Over the phone, Tucker sighed. “Good Christ, Danny, why do you keep doing this?”

“I’m not doing anything,” Danny said immediately. He winced at the vague sound of screaming below. Demons sucked. “I didn’t know the JL thing was gonna have me finding Phantom. How would I? They were talking about tracking down powerful ghosts, I was assuming Ancients!”

Tucker sighed again, which was really quite unfair of him. “Mhm. Well, Fenton Catcher?”

“Probably not. They know me pretty well at this point, and unlike what Sam says I can be professional. I’d confuse them with the… uh…”

“Stoner shtick?”

There was more screaming happening, but judging from the pitch it was a demon screaming this time. Danny checked the situation. Yep, demon getting their ass kicked. He didn’t need to get involved with a blaster. Yet.

Instead, he scowled at his phone. “Stop calling it that.”

“You’re gonna tell me flanny Danny wasn’t a pitch-perfect stoner, huh? With the chill vibing and the dopey look?”

“I hate you.”

“Love you too, bud.”

The sound of a clacking keyboard that had underlined their conversation stopped. “But seriously, Danny, what the hell are you gonna do with this?”

“Uh, lie, probably,” Danny said, because it was very likely.

“Alright, smartass, what are you going to do when that lie backfires on you like literally every other one does?”

“That’s when I start gaslighting, gatekeeping, and girlbossing, babe.”

He had a hard time hearing Tucker’s distant groan of “Why am I still your friend?” on account of the sudden explosion. Danny checked again. Hm. Demon dude had a nasty fire thing going on.

Danny switched on his Fenton water gun—holy water included!-- and shot the demon in the face. They let out a cracking hiss of rage, but dropped the fire spell thing. He waited for them to stop looking around wildly for the culprit for a moment.

He went back to the call. “‘Cause you loooove me, Tuck. From the bottom of your twice-dead heart.”

“Unfortunately,” Tucker deadpanned.

Danny just cackled. It was lost amongst the sound of supernatural bullshit below.

“Anyway, I’m still figuring out my plan A, honestly. Might bring in gray-man?”

“Amorpho’s an asshole, though. He’ll ruin the whole thing by taking the opportunity to shift into a JL member for a bit.”

Hm. True.

“Yeah, but he’s the main guy I know with that power set.”

“Ask after Desiree?” He could hear the immediate distaste in Tucker’s voice. “Ugh, pretend I didn’t say that. That’s worse than Amorpho.”

“It’s awful,” Danny agreed easily.

Desiree was actually pretty alright nowadays, mostly on account of Danny remembering the last couple minutes of Aladdin and wishing she could refuse wishes she didn’t want to grant. That had made her happy enough to stop actively picking fights.

Unfortunately, spending the entirety of one’s afterlife twisting the wording of wishes to their worst form made it hard to stop being an asshole. Who knew! So getting Desiree to split him in two for like a week had a 50/50 chance of fucking up his work relationship with the literal league of superheroes irrevocably. And this was his main cash flow right now.

So, no Desiree, no siree.

“Come up with something better then, asshole.”

Danny hummed and, since the heroes below were focused on the demon, lifted up a little and did a thoughtful back flip. What to do, what to do…?

Oh!

“My cousin!” he exclaimed.

“What cous—? Oh, Ellie.”

“Yeah, Ellie, Tuck. Which other cousins do I have?”

Tucker scoffed. “You literally have that whole Nightingale thing going on through your dad?”

Danny couldn’t help the face he made. The remaining Nightingales were worse than his parents somehow. “The Nightingales don’t count.”

“You can’t just say they don’t count.”

“I can say that, actually, and I will. They’re, like, cousins through my great-great-great-grandpa anyway.”

“Isn’t there a fight going on over there? Should you be shooting someone?”

“Yeah, probably.”

He peaked down through the window once more. The heroes must have gotten the first demon to leave while he was talking, because the horned demon fighting them now was a truly unfortunate shade of yellow-green instead of purple. Or maybe it had transformed for some reason? They had it about as in-hand as the other one, though, so Danny definitely didn’t need to go down there. He shot the maybe-new demon in the face real quick.

“Anyway, Ellie can totally help out, she’s been practicing with changing up her looks. She’s also more, uh, malleable than me, what with her situation and all. Looking fully like Phantom shouldn’t be hard.”

Tucker hummed. “She’d try to embarrass you though.”

“Yeah, that’s a problem.” Danny spun in place. “I could bribe her?”

“With what? Her life doesn’t involve needing much cash.”

“She doesn’t get out to the Zone very much. Not many of the inhabited places, anyway. I can promise her the weird apple things Dora’s been growing with Sam’s help, she loved those.”

“If you think that’ll work…” Tucker trailed off dubiously.

Danny laughed. “She’s annoying sometimes, but she’s not gonna fuck over my job if I ask her not to. I’ll just bribe her extra hard for resisting the temptation to mock me.”

“Fair enough.” The clacking of keys resumed. “I’ve really gotta pay attention now, someone’s trying to stop me from getting into this database. Someone half-decent, actually, did they upgrade? Hm. Make sure no one died, yeah?”

“They’re alive. Bye, Tuck,” Danny said, and ended the call.

He shoved his phone back into his jacket pocket and made his way down the stairs. The fight outside he had been stationed for was basically over—Captain Marvel and Green Lantern (Danny was pretty sure he had accidentally learned the dude’s actual name at some point, but hell if he could remember)—had pulled out the magic restraints one of the other consultants had handed out.

That had probably been Constantine. Ugh. Constantine. Dude could stand to lighten up a little; skulking and smoking all the time wasn’t the base state of someone enjoyable to be around. Then again, Danny knew he annoyed the shit out of some of the league with his own attitude, so he maybe shouldn’t talk. But at least he was annoying with a smile!

Case in point: Danny grinned at the heroes. “Got it handled?”

“Suppose so,” said the Green Lantern, “though a little more help would have been nice.”

Captain Marvel was too busy getting in a minor tussle with the demon to say anything either way.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m like, pretty mortal,” Danny said. “I’m not fucking with demons right where they can hit me. And I did shoot him!”

Green Lantern rolled his eyes, but admitted the point. Danny cheerfully flipped him off anyway.

“I’ll be heading out, then, the hellmouth this guy crawled out of is like three miles away.” Captain Marvel said, hauling the handcuffed demon over his shoulders like a very angry backpack.

“Oh, one more for the road!”

Danny hit the demon with a final water gun shot. Hissing and scrunching their face like a cat, the demon tried to lunge at him. It wasn’t very successful. Weirdly non-verbal for a demon, who usually had to talk to make deals and steal mortal souls, but Danny wouldn’t judge. Might be a minor demon. A really basic imp? Who knew.

“Stop being a little bitch and you won’t get spray-bottled, asshole,” Danny chided.

With a loud laugh, Captain Marvel sped away.

#dp fanfic #dp fic #dp x dc #dp x dc fic #dp x dc fanfic #dp x dc crossover #if anyone wants to use this idea feel free lol #my writing

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stararch4ngelqueen · 6 months

Note

LAST ONE I PROMISE IM SO SORRY

soft!jason with reader who hides her nightmares from him (classic 'doesnt wanna be a burden') and he finds out she hasn't been sleeping and just comfort and sappy shit idk

Hope you don’t mind but ima combine this with another idea in my head before it rots. My details aren’t good right now, it’s been a very long day 😅

—

Time written - 6:47 p.m

—

“I remember a bad habit I had when I was little to check the coin slots for any quarters left behind.”

“Bad habit? I did that all the time.” Jason tosses a final shirt into the washing machine. “Still do.”

You giggle as you slam the washer door shut before cranking the knob and clicking the button, watching the machine whirr to life.

The apartment’s little downstairs laundromat always promised new washers and dryers, but efforts in doing so were lost under a list of other repairs. At least the machines still did their job, so that’s all you could do.

“Last load, right?” Jason double checks whilst shoving his hands into his pockets, leaning against the nearest little surface reserved for folding laundry.

Pushing by your clothes hamper to the side, you nod as you sit yourself in a chair beside the dryers.

“Finally,” you say whilst peeking over at the timer. At least three minutes left before you’d be greeted with heavenly warm sheets.

The warmth of the machines heavily combatted the cold chill outside. The heat in comparison with Jason’s hoodie covering your body left you feeling quite cozy, resulting in a yawn leaving your tired body.

“That’s about five times in the past half hour, someone miss their nap time?” Jason piques, gazing over at you with softened eyes.

You would’ve laughed if not for the second yawn that left your lips again.

“M’fine,” you muffle out after crossing your arms, forcing yourself to relax. Again, the constant rocking of both machines tumbling your clothes and blankets, plus the warmth radiating into the enclosed space nearly had you lulled to sleep in seconds.

Jason find the view absolutely adorable, heavily contemplating on taking the short stride to the seat beside you to let you rest on his shoulder. Only about a minute remained on the machine when he took the chance to approach, watching your tired head slowly tilt, nearly falling back against the wall if he didn’t quickly lurch over to catch it.

Cradling your pretty face in his palm, his eyes slightly narrowed when he picked up a unique detail on your face. Your eyes nearly widened when you blacked out for a second, coming to a sight of a concerned Jason holding your cheek.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you quickly nod, blinking the exhaustion from your eyes. “Yeah. I’m okay, just didn’t sleep good.”

“Uhuh,” his response came too low for your ears to pick up. The dryer emits a sharp beep, signaling your blankets were finally ready.

As good as it felt to be sitting in such an uncomfortable plastic chair, you managed to pull yourself to your feet and towards the dryer, followed by a man who refused to remove his concerned expression off his face.

“What sounds good for dinner tonight?” Jason asks you after you pulled out tangled blankets from the dryer, nearly hugging them to yourself before plopping them onto the counter space to be separated and folded.

“Don’t know. What sounds good to you?”

“Was thinking maybe pizza,” Jason replied whilst approaching you from behind, picking up how sluggish your hands were as they rummaged through the soft pile in search of blanket edges or corners.

“Or… wings, maybe?”

“Hm?” Your head faintly tilts, rising suspicion. He stands beside you, seeing your heavy lidded eyes nearly lose focus on your task.

“Actually, was thhinking of going for some grass instead of chicken,” Jason purposely states, keeping an eye on your exhausted expression. “Grass and weeds, dandelions too.”

“Mm.” Came your response.

“Right,” he tries again. “Or if grass doesn’t hit the spot, we can just eat park dirt with our bare hands. Catch up on our minerals, y’know?”

“Mhm.”

“Babe.” He states with a firm tone. “C’mon. Babe.”

“Hm?” Your head snaps upwards towards him. “Huh? I’m listening.”

“Uhuh.” He quirks a brow before reaching over, pulling the warm fabric out of your hands.

“Babe, for how long?”

“Huh?” You shake your head, trying to remember the topic. “I don’t know. Kinda not hungry for chicken—“

“Not that,” Jason shakes his head. “How long have you not been sleeping good?”

Your lack of answer concerns him a lot more than it should’ve.

“Baby.” Jason grabs said warm, fuzzy blanket fresh off the counter and pulls the cover over your shoulders, draping you in complete warmth.”

“Talk to me.” He expresses with the upmost care, turning your body to face him. “I won’t get mad. Promise.”

You hesitate regardless. A lump in your throat nearly prevents you from doing so, and it worries you. What would he say to something like this? To see you haven’t slept that much due to a few simple bad dreams?

He’d see it ridiculous. A huge part of you believed that to be the case.

“Nightmares?” Jason tries to guess. “Is that it? Insomnia? Something not letting you sleep?”

He hit the nail on the head the first time. You could’ve said yes, could’ve vocally agreed, but all you could do was give a weak nod.

“Why haven’t you told me, hm?” Jason wisps bits of hair from your face, peering down at you with a soft, concerned expression.

When could you tell him? He’s always out on patrols. When he’s out, you’re struggling to sleep. When he comes home, he sleeps during the day, leaving you on your own until the afternoon or so. It’s always such a blessing when he comes home, sleeping by your side.

Sleep should’ve came so easily when he was home safe and sound, but all your mind focused on was the possibility that one day he may not.

It felt so odd to complain to him about sleep when his sleep schedule varied a lot more than the average man. He fought crime for a living, all you did was work or be home. How could complaining to him make any sort of sense?

“It’s just nightmares,” you weakly insist, the concern of making him upset driving your heart fast enough to keep you awake. The warm blanket was too much, lulling you into a comforting serenity your body fought against.

“D’you take meds for this?” He questions, watching you shake your head no. “Sleeping pills, anything like that?”

“I mean, I’ve thought of it, but-“

“Don’t.”

His one word demand catches you off guard, making your eyes widen. “Why not?”

“Don’t need you relying on pills to get some shut eye,” Jason murmurs, exhaling through his nose before lowering his head, resting it along yours. “That’s worse than staying awake.”

He didn’t scoff, he didn’t huff and dismiss your confession, but his response regardless made you regret telling him any of this in general. You knew that look on his face; the worried wrinkle that formed in between his brows when he was too worried about something. Someone.

“Don’t say it’s not my fault. M’Sorry you couldn’t tell me before.”

Your heart lightly aches at this, especially when he stopped your words prior. He blamed himself in some way, and you really didn’t like that.

His eyes never left your face, solemnly gleaming down at your beautiful expression. The attention to the tired shadows under your eyes, your limited energy, practically dragging your feet down every step of the way just to spend all the time you could with him.

It beats the purpose to protect Gotham when he couldn’t protect the ones he loved first. How he was going to handle your subconscious, he hadn’t a clue. Only an idea.

“Jay.”

“Shhh.” He soothes, his mind processing some thoughts you wish you could stop.

“I want you to go back upstairs,” he speaks after some silence. “I’ll sort our stuff out down here. Take a hot shower, fix yourself a drink, and get to bed. I’ll be up there in a bit.”

“But—“

“Ah ah,” he chides, hiding that hint of a smile on the edge of his lip. “Don’t wanna hear it. I’ll stay tonight, and tomorrow night, an’ the night after that.”

“And Gotham?”

Gotham always ran fucking crazy with something nearly every night, but hey, theirs other cape wearing heroes waltzing around.

“What’s one night?” He shrugs. “Don’t gotta carry you to the elevator, do I?”

“I’d prefer that,” you manage to smile. “You wrapped me in a death trap. I won’t make it to the elevator.”

Jason sighs, this time with a smile on his face. Without a word, he hoists you up in his arms, your body wrapped up in a heated, fragrant blanket as he sets you back in your chair from before.

“My little cleopatra,” he comments, in reference to your entire body wrapped up in a blanket, minus your head. “Once we’re done here, we’ll take a long nap. I’ll stay with you as long as you want.”

The official, yet unspoken promise left your heart aching. Of course he’d do such a soothing gesture for you.

“You can’t carry both me and the laundry,” your tired voice says to him, making his smirk grow as he tends to folding your blankets once more.

“Oh yeah? Watch me.”

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x fem!reader #dc jason todd #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x #jason todd dc

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moon-rivr · 6 months

Note

Miguel/reader smut:Basically Miguel is experiencing some incredible and heavy stresses and his serum is losing effectiveness,his spider instincts are more prominent to the point of becoming a monster,a man spider:basically a 15 feet tall creature,with a lot of fur,six clawed arms,hindlegs,more eyes,fangs,spikes and pinchers.One night Miguel was really struggling so y/n decides to “help” (there’s consent from both even if Miguel is a bit scared about it since he’s afraid of hurting her and yeah miguel transforms while doing it)

helping claw

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader

contents: miguel turning into a spider-like creature during sex 🫣, smut, blowjob, mouth fucking, unprotected p in v, and bit of aftercare

author’s note: i promise i’m not ignoring anyone’s request, i’m still working through them 💀 hope you all enjoy though <33

word count: 2.1K

With his job maintaining the multiverse, practically babysitting a man-child, and ensuring the order of the spider society, it was safe to say that Miguel O’Hara was a very stressed man. Despite all his responsibilities, he never let his stress levels get too high given how intolerable he was when they did. He usually spent some time reading science journals or working on experiments whenever he did feel them rising. However, he hadn't gotten the opportunity to relax in quite a while with his responsibilities piling on. From an anomaly mission gone awry and multiple spiders getting hurt to a universe almost getting destroyed, his stress was at an all time high.

You decided to go over to Peter's house after he invited you for game night with Ben and Jessica. You knocked on the door and smiled at MJ as she opened it, letting you in. You walked in to see that everyone was just getting started on setting up the cards for the game tonight and you decided to sit down next to Jessica. "Hey, glad you could make it!" Peter told you with a smile as he set down the Monopoly board on the table. "Hey, it's nice to see you," you responded, picking up your playing piece after everyone did. You couldn't help notice Miguel’s absence but you decided to just shrug it off as him not wanting to have fun.

The game continued for half an hour before Peter let out an annoyed grunt. "We're not gonna finish this game tonight," he mumbled as he used his last ‘get out of jail free’ card. "Why'd you pick this game out then?" Ben remarked, taking the opportunity to flex as he got his next card. "Well I thought Miguel would be coming over, he usually doesn't complain about this game compared to the others," Peter responded as ben moved his piece across the board. "Do you know why he didn't show up?" You spoke up, looking up at Peter curiously. "He's probably holed up in his office. He's been more agitated than usual lately."

You excused yourself about twenty minutes after that, wanting to check up on Miguel and see how he was doing. You hesitated when you got to his office, unsure if you two were close enough for you to just walk in. You brushed those thoughts aside and decided to just walk in, your eyes widening as soon as you did. You weren't too sure what you were expecting when you walked into his office, but a half-man half-spider certainly wasn't it.

"Miguel?" You asked tentatively, not wanting to scare the creature off in case it wasn't him. It turned around and you looked up to see miguel's face on the spider's body, his eight red eyes focusing on you. "You shouldn't be here," he garbled as best as he could through the elongated fangs in his mouth. "What happened to you?" You inquired, taking a step forward to examine just how much he'd changed. He transformed back to normal and you could see how evident the exhaustion and stress was on him, black circles ringing underneath his eyes. He began explaining the situation, how the serum he'd been taking made him into the monster that you saw.

"I could help you out with your stress, if you wanted," you suggested, surprising even yourself as you did. You weren't too close to Miguel but it still pained you to see him so worked up without any relief. "No," he responded, turning his back towards you as he faced one of his computer screens. Ouch. You knew that he wouldn't have agreed to it easily, but still, the outright rejection stung. You were pretty sure the look on your face was pretty telling when he turned around since he brought your chin up to look at him. "It's not for the reasons that you think it is. It's just.. how could you desire me when I can't even stand to look at myself too long?" He told you, his tone offering nothing less than sincere concern. "Let me help you, Miguel. You don't have to do this alone."

Before the two of you could get started with anything, Miguel held your hands close to his chest. "Tell me if I'm hurting you or anything. That's the last thing that i want to do," he said, wanting to get your full consent before anything initiated. You assured him that you would and he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours. He kissed you like you were his raft in the middle of the ocean, like he needed this to live. You shut your eyes and brought your hands up to his neck, being met with fur. You didn't let that deter you too much as he placed his tongue in your mouth, tasting every inch of you that you would give him.

You opened when your eyes when you heard a light ripping sound coming near you, looking down to see that Miguel had ripped open your suit with his talons. "I'll fix you a new suit," he told you before you could complain about it and you couldn't help but let out a scoff. "You couldn't have waited for 10 seconds?" You asked him, walking up to him as you got down on your knees. "Consider it a fair deal. A new suit for what you're doing for me here," he told you, his hand coming up to your hair as you took his cock in your mouth. "A fair deal would be me getting an orgasm out of this," you mumbled, swirling your tongue on his tip. "Mouth full of cock and you still won't shut up, hm?"

You rolled your eyes and later closed them as you focused on providing him pleasure, your tongue running down his shaft as your hand massaged his balls. You looked up at him to see that his eyes had multiplied again and all eight were looking back at you, his mouth slightly parted as his fangs stuck out from his mouth. Your cheeks hollowed as you struggled to take his cock in your mouth, tears stinging as they fought to come out. You focused on just taking what you could handle, your hand stroking the base of his shaft, squeezing it enough to emulate the sensation of your mouth.

You swirled your tongue around his reddened tip, collecting all the precum that had leaked out. His hips thrusted into you and tears started building up once more as you felt the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat. He immediately started to apologize but you assured him that it was okay, that you liked when he used you to get off. His thrusts started off slow before they started to speed up, his desperation to get off evident in the way that he used you.

You brought your hands up to his balls, tugging and massaging them as he used your mouth for his benefit. You swirled your tongue on the underside of his cock and underneath his tip, where you knew he'd be most sensitive. He let out a loud whimper as your tongue kept stimulating him in those spots, his hands digging into your shoulders as he felt his orgasm building up. He came into your mouth soon after that, his cum filling up your cheeks as you struggled to keep it all in your mouth. The semi-salty substance went down easily enough as you swallowed it, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

In the blink of an eye, your hands and feet restrained with his webs and you were on the ceiling. "Miguel, this isn't funny!" You yelled, looking down at just how far up you were, though a part couldn't help but feel excited at the prospect. He crawled up to the ceiling, sustaining the both of you up there. "But I can practically smell your arousal, putita. You want this as much as I do," his breath fanned against your ear as he lined his cock up to your glistening folds. (little whore) You felt all the breath from your lungs escape as Miguel pushed his entire cock inside you at once, a sting forming between your legs while you adjusted. You turned to look over at him, expecting to see him in his natural form but his transformation had gone further than just his eyes changing.

His eyes had multiplied once more and his fangs were sticking out, fur was coating his backside and his limbs were replaced by spider-like appendage. "Are you scared of me?" He asked you in that same garbled speech from earlier. "Not more than usual," you responded, giving him a nod to let him know that he could start moving. Your mouth parted as his hips snapped into yours, all the pent up stress that he'd been harboring away coming out. You dug your nails into his back, knowing that the fur was preventing you from hurting him too much as he continued with his thrusts. You could feel him everywhere as his cock brushed up against your cervix, but you still couldn't get enough of him.

With each thrust, Miguel found himself relaxing more and more in your embrace and the spider-like features began to dissipate. He brought his hand down to your clit, rubbing precise circles on the nub as his other hand focused on keeping you two on the ceiling. Your mouth parted as you moaned out his name, echoes filling his office. His cock brushed up against your g-spot and with the way your pussy gushed around his cock, he couldn't help but adjust his angle to hit that spot with every thrust that he took.

"You were made for this cock, your pussy feels so perfect, mi reina. It was meant to be worshiped," he grunted as your pussy coated his cock in fresh arousal, each thrust becoming easier and easier. You pulled against the webbing as you felt your orgasm building up steadily, like a dam about to burst. You clenched around his cock tightly, your juices coating the base of his cock in a creamy ring as you unclenched. His thrusts got sloppier as he came inside of you, his cock pushing his cum deep inside your cervix.

The two of you went round after round again, just to make sure that his stress was completely gone before he led you to his place in Nueva York. "I thought you lived at HQ," you remarked, making your way around his house as you looked at the portraits of him and Gabriella around the place. "Can't see how you would've thought that. I only spend about 99% of my time there and I do have a bed there, but that's it," he shrugged, coming behind you as you picked up a children's book. He led you to his bedroom, starting up a bath for the two of you.

Though you knew that the bath was mostly just for you, you hoped that Miguel could also find a way to de-stress in here. "So did I repay my favor to you tonight?" he asked, his fingers lathering some soap on your back as he drew small shapes. "You're asking me that after like four orgasms?" you asked, letting out a giggle as you turned around to face him. He turned around and you brought your hands to his back, gently rubbing at some of his tense spots while you lathered soap. "I hope you're feeling more relaxed. Just let me know when you start to feel stressed again," you told him, rinsing off the soap that he'd lathered on. "I will, I promise."

The two of you got out of the shower a while after that, taking an opportunity to test out just how flexible you could be. He caressed your skin as the two of you intertwined on his silk sheets, his eyes distant like he was lost in thought. "You okay?" You asked him, looking up to get a clear glimpse of him. "Yeah, yeah. I just hope you weren't too freaked out by that monster tonight," he muttered, speaking of his creature-like self like it was a completely separate entity. "I told you that it was fine, Miguel. You didn't scare me," you reassured him once more, bringing your hand up to stroke his curls. "Well, maybe we could try this again even if i'm not a monster," he mumbled, slowly drifting off to sleep. You couldn't help the smile that grew on your face after hearing that, even if he hadn't given you any form of commitment. “Maybe we could do that,” you mumbled, resting your head against his chest as you started to fall asleep.

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joeloverture · 13 days

Text

comeuppance | qz!j.m. x f!reader

masterlist | notifs blog

pairing: qz!joel miller x f!reader summary: [post outbreak] when your recklessness causes an arms deal to go south, joel makes sure you regret it. warnings: (18+ mdni) qz!joel, age gap (late 20s/early 50s), written with hbo!joel in mind but with game!joel lore, guns, mentioned executions, misogynistic names outside (and in!) a sexual context, canon-typical violence as in murder (joel kills a soldier 'on-screen'), reader is a little shit but joel is worse, darkish & dubcon, spanking as a punishment, gunplay, attempted boot humping, degradation, humiliation, one kick to the cunt, mean!joel, orgasm denial [no use of y/n] word count: 2.7k a/n: this is my (admittedly late) submission for @iamasaddie's writing challenge 2.0! my prompt was 'you can't hide forever'. the genre was technically dark but joel himself isn't scarily dark here. thank you so much to aly for, once again, bringing this fandom together with her challenges. it's a steep task but she does a great job every time! and even more thanks to @joelsdagger and @lovesickonmybed for helping me brainstorm! (i have half of a brain without my wonderfully creative friends).

It only takes one deal gone south to fuck everything up.

You know the compass is already ticking that way the moment you and Joel, your longtime smuggling partner, enter the abandoned warehouse. Much like everything else in the Boston QZ, it’s falling apart. The corrugated metal walls are pitted with rust, and old blood is caked all over the floors. In another life, it might’ve been a slaughterhouse, but there’s no real way of knowing. It’s been long enough that any signage has deteriorated. The building’s state of decay, however, isn’t what messes things up.

It’s the singular man that walks in from the opposite side of the atrium.

FEDRA’s favorite executioner. Slitted eyes far apart, thinned out lips, and graying black hair. Rarely seen away from the gallows, only recognizable to you from all of the nightmares you’ve had of his face being the last you see.

If it were drugs, you’d think nothing of it. FEDRA soldiers buy quietly from you all of the time – but they have no need for guns that they don’t already have.

Joel steps forward, merchandise in the duffel bag over his shoulder, none the wiser. A knot ties itself in the base of your throat. You’re too busy trying to figure out what to do, what to do, what to do that you barely even realize that the soldier has a gun aimed right between your eyes until you’re looking right down the barrel.

Your hand jerks to your holster, drawing your pistol in one swipe.

“Drop your fucking gun!” he barks in your direction. It clatters out of your hands. “Don’t you dare fucking move.” Your hands fly up as you take a step back, nearly stumbling into a nearby crate. “Joel Miller and his bitch,” the man sneers. “What a lucky find. You two have quite the bounty on your heads.”

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Joel says, face completely blank.

“Easy for you to say,” the guard says with a nagging smirk. “Your little cunt here already did. Pretty fucking dumb not to check who you’re selling your merchandise to, huh?”

Joel tenses, ultimately huffing through his nose. “Can we get this over with?”

“I’ll make it easy, Miller. Come with me alive so I get paid, or come with me dead so I still get paid.”

Joel’s fingers twitch behind his back, and after almost three years of working with him, it’s impossible not to pick up on the subtext. Keep him busy. His hand is already reaching for the revolver in his back pocket.

“Turn the other way. I can make this worth your time,” you say. “But you’re lucky if those sons of bitches you work for even offer you half the reward they’ve posted for us. Dragging the bodies from Area 5 to the closest checkpoint… you’d have your work cut out for you.”

“Yeah fucking right,” he spits. “You two have been running around free for too damn long. Causing too much trouble. Not anymo–”

The man’s mouth freezes around the words by the time the bullet soars throat the canvas fabric of Joel’s duffel bag and through the man’s jugular. The soldier’s hands claw for his throat while he gargles on the blood as he begins the descent to the ground. New blood, still pumping directionless from the split artery, joins the old.

Much like him, where he’s slumping against the ground, chest moving until the very end, your hands clutch at your own throat. “We need to go,” you say, knowing the rest of FEDRA will come looking for the firefight at any second now. Joel doesn’t move. “Joel!” You reach out to tug his sleeve, but he doesn’t react. “Jesus– move!”

Joel turns to face you, gun still hanging from his hand. His fingers flex around the grip. “What the hell were you thinkin’, little girl?” You can hear his breathing, amplified from how close he is to you. His once inexpressive face is now red, lips curled, skin tight like a crushed soda can.

“I– what?”

“Not vettin’ your buyers. First fuckin’ thing I told you all them years ago, wasn’t it? Gotta check so you don’t sell shit to the wrong guy, yeah?” He stalks closer to you – you stumble back.

Not vetting the now dead executioner, whose blood is currently creeping up to the soles of your boots. Your mistake, yes, a potentially catastrophic one that you’ll definitely never make again after this, but he’d been on your ass about finding buyers and after an entire day of burning bodies, the last thing you wanted to do was go asking around about the ‘John’ in search of guns that you’d talked to over the radio tower.

“We’re alive, aren’t we?”

Joel finally jerks his sleeve away from your grip. Your hand falls slack by your side, burning from his fire stoker touch. “And you oughta count your fuckin’ blessings for that. Dumbfuck of a girl, gonna get me killed,” he spits. Spittle flies across your neck.

You flinch – and not because you’re scared. You’ve never seen him like this before. You hear noise in the distance, the moving of FEDRA trucks, no doubt. “Joel! We can do this later – we need to fucking go–”

“Then you better start running,” he says gruffly.

You don’t need to be told twice.

You sprint out of the atrium, cursing as your bloodied soles carve tracks behind you. A stack of crates blocks the door, which you vault over and shimmy your way through the broken glass panel. The hallway ahead of you is dark, and you have no idea where the fuck you’re going, only that you can’t stop. Each impact of your foot on the ground is like being struck by lightning, carbonating the racing blood pumping through your body. More glass crunches behind you, and a shock of terror pierces you when you hear Joel’s snarls filling the corridor.

There’s a metal cart in your way, which you send whirling in Joel’s direction. He grunts, presumably hitting him in the stomach before it goes clattering on the ground. You make the most of the diversion, hurtling forward and lurching through a cracked door.

Dead fucking end.

An office, by the looks of it. Desks all over the place, leftover tasks still pinned on cork boards from outbreak day, chairs on their sides. You hear Joel huffing and puffing behind you, and fear forks through you. You fall to your hands and knees, crawling underneath the labyrinth of desks and tucking yourself against a wall, carpet-burned hand to your mouth to muffle your breathing. Your chest avalanches with every single breath.

“You ain’t off the hook,” Joel says, voice getting closer with every word. You can hear the thump of his boots against the carpet. See the spread of his shadow roaming across the wall. You squint through the seam of two desks. He's looking over his shoulder when you haul yourself across the room to the next closest desk.

You look around for anything that might get you out of this long enough to slip back out of the door. If you can make it back to the apartment, maybe he can cool off on his own walk back. You reach up for a stapler and take a brief second to peek over a filing cabinet before flinging it against the wall. It snaps open, spilling decades old staples all over the floor.

“Only a clicker’s fallin’ for that,” he tuts at you. His boots land on the floor again, one, two, three steps closer to you. You wince, balling your hands into fists.

All you can hear is the thrashing of your own heart. You scooch away from the desk – maybe if you throw something small at him, like a pack of sticky notes, it’ll be enough to abduct his attention long enough for you to slip by–

“You can’t hide forever,” Joel goddamn coos at you. You see him bending at the waist, scoping out the undersides of desks, seeking you out–

You crawl out from under the desk and book it to the door.

Stupid. Fucking. Idea.

Joel hauls you back by the belt loop, laughing as you cry out. You try squirming away, kicking at him, but his other arm wraps around your torso. It hits you then that you have no idea what he might do to you. You’ve trusted him with your life before, but what would he do when you risked his? You’d always been too scared to find out. He spins you, slamming you over the desk. You cry out as your chest meets the wood. His hand drags your wrists together, pinning them at the small of your back.

“Let me – the fuck– go!” you yell at him, trying to bend your elbow at the right angle to nail him in the chest.

He tightens his grip so much that you can barely move an inch. “Made your fuckin’ bed, gotta lie in it, sweetheart,” he tuts, shaking his head at you. His hand grazes over your ass, and you stiffen as he looms over you. He is just a man. Your mind spins to the worst-case scenario. No, no, no, no–

“How about an… old-fashioned corporal punishment to set ya straight?” Within the next second, he’s yanking your jeans down your thighs.

Oh. Oh fuck.

“Joel–” you exhale, breath shuddery. “Knock it off–”

“No panties? I was gonna be nice and spank ya over them…” Joel frowns at you. “Poor baby. ‘S gonna sting real bad.”

You snap at him, “What, you want me to go to the local QZ Victoria’s Secret?”

Joel swats, hard, across your asscheek.

You’ve seen how intense Joel’s brute strength can be. You’ve just never been on the receiving end of it. A cry pushes out of your throat, and you hunch over the desk as you struggle helplessly against Joel. Tears spring at your eyes.

Mercifully, Joel runs his calloused palm over the smarting skin. “Shh, shh, shh, shh. ‘S okay, Jus’ gotta teach ya a lesson. Make sure it sticks.” He strokes the nape of your neck as you whimper into the desk.

You tense up in preparation for the second hit, but, if anything, it just makes the impact worse. It prickles your other cheek, leaving your knees shaky. And God help you, your clit twitches. Twitches. Your thighs are already heating up, and you can’t help but squirm in a good way underneath Joel. A single tear slips over your waterline, and you have to tilt your head into the shoulder of your shirt to wipe it off. You don’t want him to see you weak – not that weak.

The next spank makes him grunt from how hard he swings his palm into your backside. “Joel!” you shout, pain nearly splitting you in two. Your feet raise off of the ground as you prop yourself up on the desk, kicking uselessly at his shins. All he does is chuckle at you.

Horror sinks like a cinderblock in your stomach when you realize that your hole, leaking slick, is practically fucking winking at him. You thank the darkness. It’s about the only good thing about this place.

“You don’t like that?” he mock-pouts at you. It’s enough to make you throb. The opposite, you’d say if you could.

A series of spanks follows, but at least these are lighter, and in rapid succession. Still, you jerk with each impact, squirming so that your fingers dance in his grip. “Stupid little girl. Thought you could sell our shit to a FEDRA bitch and get off scot-free? Really thought you could get away from me, huh?”

You try clamming up, desperately attempting to close your legs together. You squeeze your thighs together, relieved at the pressure – and then you hear a resounding click behind you.

You still.

Joel’s gun, still fucking hot from the bullet it’d fired right into the executioner’s throat, traces up the small of your back… all the way to your throat. “Could put one right here,” Joel whispers, more to himself than you. “Show ya what happens to girls that don’t follow orders.” He jams it into your skin, and you hiss at the pain, at the bruise it’s sure to leave. And in spite of it all, you fucking gush. God, you’re fucked up.

He wouldn’t kill you – he needs you more than you need him. But common sense isn’t enough to prevent the thrill, the arousal smiting your body from head to toe.

“I’ll reconsider if ya give it a kiss.” He nudges the barrel carefully against your lips and you stop breathing for a second, maybe two. “Go on. Give it some lovin’. Suck it like a cock. I know you’re good at it. Hear all the guys you bring over.”

You whimper at the thought of Joel listening to you getting your hook ups off – at the thought of him fisting his own cock while he listens. Obediently, you part your lips, slowly, ever so slowly, taking the gun down your throat. It fills your mouth up in such a strange way – all hard edges. It’d be freezing cold if not for the fact that it’s a weapon of death, a scythe in its own way. One press of the trigger, and you’d be just like the guard. You suck even harder at it, eyes rolling back in your skull. Your thighs twitch, stripes of slick running down your thighs.

Joel reaches between your legs, grabbing at the meat of your inner thigh to spread you open. Instead, he gets a handful of the arousal that’s been pooling between your legs since he first bent you over the desk.

You freeze, pausing your ministrations on the pistol. He himself freezes before he drags his hips over your folds. His finger pads hover over your swollen clit before he properly rubs you once, and then twice. Your hips cant into the closest thing – his hand.

Joel makes a disgusted noise and swats your leaking pussy before shoving you forward and stepping back. You’re panting, properly fucked out even though he’d barely touched you. Cross-eyed, tongue hanging out, face hot. He looks you up and down, brows furrowing with revulsion. “Horny fuckin’ bitch. Creamin’ all over me. That long since you got action that a spankin’ and a gun in your mouth is all it takes to get you riled up? Pathetic.” He shoves the gun back in his pocket, still shining with your saliva.

He wipes your wetness all over your leg, grabs the back of your collar, and drags you to the floor in one foul swoop. You fall on your hands and knees again, ass still stinging from his treatment, lightheaded from how needy you are. Even his brutal treatment makes you whimper.

You reach for his calf, pulling yourself up to brace your dripping cunt against his boot. You rut against it, not even fully cognizant of your movements as you roll your hips, praying that he lets you have this if nothing else. Your orgasm, wetting his boot thoroughly. Your scent, clinging to him on the walk back to the apartment. You buck into the boot, moaning as the toe bumps against your clit. It might be enough, if you could just do it one more time–

Joel tears his shoe out from underneath you, face pinched with aversion. “No!” you cry, still grabbing for his calf. You fall onto your back, legs spread and panting. Your ass needles from his spanking. The ceiling tiles spin above you.

The same toe you’d been humping kicks into your cunt, and you yelp, curling in on yourself. Another tear slides down your burning cheek as you reach down to cup your sore pussy. Even that pressure feels like touching a live wire.

Joel looks down at his shining boot and makes a disgusted noise. “Does humiliatin’ yourself always get ya dicked down?”

He turns around, already walking away from you without a care in the world. The gun grip pokes out of his pocket, taunting you.

“Pull your goddamn pants up and get a move on. Curfew’s soon.”

#vetty's words 𓇢𓆸 #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller/reader #joel miller fic #writing challenge 2.0

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janeyseymour · 18 days

Text

Scrubs

Summary: Melissa's nonna is in the hospital and you just so happen to be the nurse assigned to the woman.

WC: ~3.2k

The last thing that Melissa Schemmenti expects when she picks up the phone that day is to hear her mother crying into the phone that Nonna had a stroke and was in the hospital.

“Ma? What do you mean Nonna had a stroke?” Melissa rushes out as she’s grading papers in her classroom.

“She- she had a stroke, I don’t know!” the older Schemmenti hisses into the phone. “The point is, she’s in the hospital, and she’s asking for you- so you better get your ass down here and be here for her!”

“I-” Melissa glances up at the clock. She still has half an hour of her prep, and if she acts fast, she can pull together sub plans, arrange for coverage, and run out. “I’ll be there as soon as I sort everything out with my kids.”

“Please,” her mother whispers into the phone, and it breaks the teacher’s heart the way she can hear her mother falling apart inside.

“I’ll be there, Ma. Just give me a bit of time.”

As soon as Melissa hangs up with her mother, she’s dialing Ava.

“Melissa, what? I’m watching The Bachelor,” the principal answers the phone, clearly pissed at being interrupted.

“And I don’t give a shit,” the redhead retorts into the phone as she pulls up a document to start making her plan for the rest of the day. “I have to go. Family emergency. My kids are at music, I’m leaving plans on my desk, and I honestly don’t care if it goes well or not. I don’t even care who my sub is.”

At the note that she doesn’t care who her sub is, Ava is intrigued. “Girl, is everything okay?”

“No. My nonna is in the hospital for the first time in her life, my mom just called me in tears, and I have to go be there,” Melissa rushes out. “Please, just get me a sub.”

The desperate tone that the tough teacher uses sparks something within the principal, and she sits up a bit straighter and close out of the hulu tab she has open on her computer. “Go. I’ll handle it.”

“Thank you.” She hangs up after that, types at rapid speeds to finish her plans for the rest of the day, not even bothering to check it for any spelling or grammar errors, prints it, and runs out of her room.

Before she heads out, she does stop down to her work wife’s room. Barbara is in the middle of teaching though, and it makes the other veteran teacher raise a brow at her friend unexpectedly dropping by.

“Miss Schemmenti, how can I help you? I am in the middle of a lesson.”

“Just letting you know that I’m running. There’s ziti in the fridge, and it’s yours,” the redhead states. She knocks once on the doorframe before sprinting down the hall and out to her car before Barbara can get a word out.

She’s at the hospital and in the building far faster than her mother had expected.

“Melissa, dear,” the woman’s mother runs to her. “You got here fast.”

“When you call telling me to get to the hospital for Nonna, I run a few lights,” Melissa shrugs as she embraces her mother. “How is she?”

“As feisty as ever,” the teacher’s mother groans. “Claiming that she doesn’t need to be here, they’re treating her all wrong, and she’s threatening to leave while hooked up to all of their machines. I’m sure she could use seeing you right now to calm her down.”

“Where is she?”

Melissa is led back to the room, and she can hear her grandmother before she can see her.

“Dammit to hell, I am fine! Would you quit poking me?” she’s yelling at the abundance of nurses in her room and personal space.

“I’m sorry,” you tell her. Then you crack a small smile “The doctor orders. I just have the pleasure of doing his dirty work.”

“Nonna,” the redhead sighs as she makes her way into the room. “The nurse is doing her job. They have to check your vitals and blood oxygen levels to make sure that you’re okay.”

“I don’t even know why I’m here,” the matriarch of the family grumbles, but she does lighten up just a little with her favorite granddaughter in the room now. Then, Melissa crosses her way over to the bed and takes her Nonna’s hand in her own. “You’re damned mother dragged me here.”

“Because you were having a stroke,” the mother exasperates. “You were having a stroke, Ma. And I wasn’t about to let you die on my watch.”

“God couldn’t take me, even if he wanted to,” Nonna states. “He ain’t taking me off this earth until I see my Melly fall in love again.”

At that little comment from the woman in the hospital bed, you have to let out a soft chuckle. This woman really was something.

“What’s so funny, Miss…” the grandmother squints to read your name off of your badge. “Y/N?”

“Nothing, ma’am,” you bite back your laughter. “You’re a fiery one, you know that, right?”

“You ain’t the first one to call me that,” the woman tells you. “Hey, you’re pretty. What do you think of my granddaughter?”

“Nonna!” Melissa reprimands.

You do look up though, temporarily pausing what you’re doing. The woman now sitting by the bed is absolutely stunning. Her hair is beautiful, her green eyes sparkle in a way that you don’t think you’ve ever seen before, and her body is… wow.

And when Melissa sees your face for the first time, her jaw almost drops. You’re… you’re beautiful. If she didn’t know you were a nurse, she would think you were a model- you belong on a magazine cover in her opinion.

“Well?” the patient asks, rather impatiently.

You chuckle softly. “She’s a good granddaughter for getting here so quickly for you, Mrs. Schemmenti,” you tell her, and you do mean it.

“Yeah, yeah,” the woman waves you off, but that isn’t what she wants to hear. “What do you think of her though?”

Knowing you won’t get out of this one, you relent. “She’s very pretty.”

“You hear that, Annette?” the grandmother asks. “Y/N thinks our Melly is pretty! Melly, what do you think of Y/N?”

“Nonna, I ain’t-”

“What. Do. You. Think?” the woman grits out each of her words. “C’mon, just give me this one.”

“She’s very pretty, Nonna,” Melissa gives in to her Nonna’s pestering. “Now will you quit it?”

The grandmother just grins and shrugs. Then she winces as you begin to draw her blood.

“I know,” you say sympathetically. “But this is the last of the tests, ma’am, and then they do want to keep you for a few days to keep an eye on you.”

The grandmother sighs. “If you must. But enough of this ‘ma’am’ and ‘Mrs. Schemmenti’ shit. My name is Bea.”

“Okay, Bea,” you smile at her. “I’ll make a note of that.” If her sudden change in demeanor at the thought of staying in the hospital is odd to you, you don’t mention it. Neither do her family members- it’s abundantly clear that her being more open to the idea of staying is much easier than fighting her to stay.

“And don’t send in those other shit nurses,” she tells you. “If you’re around, I want you- the only woman here who isn’t trying to kill me, I swear.”

“Nobody is trying to kill you, Nonna,” Melissa rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “They are quite literally doing the opposite and keeping you alive.”

“I didn’t ask for that,” the grandmother huffs.

“You literally just told us that God can’t take you from this earth until I find love again!” Melissa groans. Then her eyes widen slightly at her realization. “Oh God, Ma! She’s gonna outlive us all!”

You just laugh as you quietly make your exit.

“She’s really pretty,” Nonna tells Melissa quietly.

“I see you’re feeling well enough to meddle in my love life,” the redhead notes.

“I already told you, I don’t know why I’m here,” the grandmother retorts. “It was just a little hiccup, and your mother freaked out over it.”

Annette puts her head in her hands. “Ma, you were slurring your words all over the place, and the doc already told you you had a mini stroke.”

“Eh, what do they know?” Nonna rolls her eyes. She turns her attention back to her granddaughter. “You should ask her out. She’ll be in my room a lot, and you and I both know you’ll be here for the next few days keeping your ol’ nonna company.

“Nonna, I’m not gonna ask the nurse out,” the teacher laughs. “She’s probably in a relationship as it is- nobody that pretty is single.”

“You is,” Nonna points out.

Those green eyes glare at her grandmother. “I am not nearly as pretty as she is.”

“Don’t sell yourself short there, Melly. Youse quite the looker, if I do say so myself.” Melissa took after her grandmother in the best possible ways.

The next time you come into the room, it’s to bring Bea her lunch, and Melissa is still sitting there.

“Ah, there’s the pretty woman,” the patient chuckles from her place in bed.

“Hi Bea,” you chuckle as you set her tray up for her. “I see you’re feeling better.”

“I was feeling fine when I first got checked in,” Bea laughs. “Now, what do you say you take a load off and sit with me while I eat since my granddaughter over here doesn’t much feel like talking to her old sickly grandmother?”

That gets the redhead to look up from the papers that she’s grading. “Nonna, are you sick, or aren’t ya? Make up your mind.”

“Quiet, you,” the woman in bed guffaws loudly. “I’ll be whatever the hell I want to be. Melly’s too busy grading her kids’ papers to talk to her dear old grandmother, and Annette is out takin’ a smoke break, so what do you say?”

You glance down at your watch. Your supervisor had given you a bit of time to handle Bea, knowing she was more difficult, but with her being so complacent at her request to have you come in more than the other nurses, you have the time. “I have about fifteen minutes,” you tell her with a smile as you sit down in one of the chairs there for visitors.

“That’s more than enough time for you to get to know Melly!” Bea grins.

“Nonna, I’m grading,” the redhead sighs as she bites the marker cap between her teeth.

“What do you teach?” you ask, clearly interested. You weren’t lying when you said that Bea’s granddaughter was very pretty, and if you have the time, maybe you should get to know her.

“Second and third,” the teacher huffs out as she marks an answer wrong on one of her student’s tests. “Down at Abbott.”

“Two grades?” you ask her, surprised. You had never heard of one teacher with two different grades at the elementary level.

“Budget wasn’t big enough to hire another teacher, and I’m the best second grade teacher there, so they gave me an extra ten third graders,” Melissa sighs.

“I’m sure you do a great job,” you assure her with a soft and warm smile.

Bea finds her way into the conversation. “Melly is the best teacher there is. It’s always a blast to go in as a mystery reader and watch her do her thing. The kids love her, and they should. She ain’t nearly as tough as she plays.”

“You ain’t nearly as tough as you play either, Nonna,” the granddaughter snorts as she sets aside her papers. “Where d’you think I learned all my tricks from?”

“Your mother,” Bea narrows her eyes, but they sparkle with mischief.

You chat with the two of them for the remainder of your fifteen minute break before you sigh and stand. “I have to get back to my rounds, but it was lovely to chat with you both.” You make sure to look at both of them, but your eyes do linger on the stunning woman sitting in the stuffy and uncomfortable chair next to the bed. “Call if you need anything.”

It’s a bit later that you’re called back into the Schemmenti room. Melissa is asleep in the chair, and Annette is conveniently out for another smoke break.

“What’s goin’ on, Bea?” you ask the patient. “Trying to cause more trouble for me?”

“Not this time,” she chuckles as her eyes stay glued to the soap opera on the television. “Just wondering if it would be possible to get another blanket, dear.”

You nod, head into the hall and grab another knit blanket before heading back in. You go to drape it over the elderly woman, but she shakes her head and points to the redhead.

“For her,” Bea instructs. “She’s freezing, as much as she won’t admit it. I’ve been watching her shiver through her entire nap.”

You shake your head and roll your eyes playfully, but you do gently set the blanket overtop of the sleeping woman.

When Melissa wakes, she’s warm. She remembers drifting off to sleep practically freezing as she pulled her Abbott Elementary sweatshirt as tightly to her body as she could.

“Good mornin’, sleepyhead,” Nonna chuckles.

“Where’d the blanket come from?” Melissa asks as she stretches just slightly, loving the way that her whole upper body cracks at the movement- it feels so good after being cramped in the chair for the day.

“I had Y/N bring it in for you,” the woman smiles. “Sweet girl. You should ask her out.”

“I ain’t lookin’ for any romance right now, Nonna,” the redhead rolls her eyes. “And ‘sides, I don’t even know if she’s gay.”

“She is,” the grandmother confirms. “We were chatting a bit earlier about her own love life when she came in to check my vitals.”

“How do you know?” Melissa raises a brow.

Nonna shrugs. “Mentioned something about an ex-girlfriend dumping her because she was always here… sounds like the perfect relationship for you- you workaholics seem to get along well, and you should know. You and Joe worked beautifully until he let himself go and wasn’t the driven man you thought you knew.”

“Don’t remind me of that time,” the granddaughter sighs.

“All I’m sayin’ is, you should ask her out,” Nonna grins and reaches a hand out. “She’s gorgeous, she’s a sweetheart, she has a good head on her shoulders… was telling me about how she works well with the little ones who come in and helps calm them down, so she’s good with kids. Everything you’re looking for.”

“I already told you, I ain’t lookin’,” Melissa rolls her eyes.

Nonna rolls her own green eyes. “You never want me to die,” she sighs dramatically.

The next few days, you spend quite a bit of time with the Schemmenti family because Bea practically refuses all of the other nurses on the clock. In that time, Melissa is almost always there. You find yourself looking forward to seeing her each day.

The day that Bea Schemmenti is discharged from the hospital, she pinches your cheeks and thanks you for your kindness and help over the last couple days- as much as she didn’t need it.

“Of course, Bea,” you chuckle as you shake her hand gently. “It’s been a pleasure getting to know you and your family.”

Melissa is holding onto the wheelchair to push her grandmother out of the facility when the older woman turns around and smacks the redhead’s arm. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“Don’t you got something you want to ask Y/N?” Been prompts.

The teacher sighs. “Do you want a free grandma?”

“That was not the question, and you know it- you pain in my ass!” Nonna smacks her granddaughter’s arm playfully as she’s wheeled out.

“Thanks for taking care of crazy lady,” Melissa calls over her shoulder.

Once Melissa gets her grandmother settled at home, Nonna sighs dramatically. “I thought you said you were going to ask her out!”

“I said I would think about it, Nonna.”

“And that to me, means that you were! Come on now Melly!”

“Well, you’re out of the hospital, so there’s no reason for me to go back there again,” the redhead tells her grandmother.

“I could have another stroke,” the older woman suggests with a mischievous glimmer in her eyes.

“That would be dramatic, even for you,” Melissa rolls her eyes.

Nonna shrugs. “Your reason to go back there could simply be to ask her out.”

“Will that really make you happy?” the redhead finally begins to crack. She grabs her keys and circles them around her finger a few times.

“I’ve been trying to get you to ask her out for the past three days!” Bea nods frantically. “C’mon now. Don’t make me wait any longer for grandkids!”

“Nobody said anything about grandkids, Nonna!” Melissa tells her grandmother as she makes her way out the door.

You’re just about to take your twenty minute break when you see familiar red hair standing at the desk.

“Hi, Melissa,” you smile at her warmly. “What’re you doin’ back here?”

The woman runs a hand through her gently curled hair. “Makin’ my nonna happy.”

“How so?”

Melissa runs a hand over her face. “God, I can’t believe I’m letting my grandmother pressure me into this, but… do you wanna go out with me for dinner one night? Or I can cook?”

Your eyes widen at her question. “What?”

“My nonna took a liking to you and has been trying to get me to ask you out for the last three days… I thought about it, and here I am. What do you say?”

“I have…” you look down at your watch. “seventeen minutes left of my break?”

Those green eyes sparkle. She takes your hand gently and leads you outside.

Those seventeen minutes are the best that you’ve had in quite some time. The timer on your phone goes off all too quickly, and you let out a disappointed huff as you stand from the curb just outside the hospital doors. You dust yourself off before extending a hand out to help her up from the low stoop. She takes it with a smile.

“I don’t know about you,” Melissa tells you as she squeezes your hand. “But I would love to see you again… the next time you have a night off.”

“I have off tomorrow if that’s not too soon,” you laugh softly. You pull your phone out of your scrubs before handing it over.

“I’ll pick you up at six,” the redhead winks as she starts to make her way back to her car.

You watch her go before heading back into the hallway with the bright lights and smell of disinfectant.

When Melissa comes home, Nonna looks at her knowingly. “So?”

“Shut it,” the redhead laughs as she makes her way into the kitchen to start on the next meal.

TAGS, and let me know if you want to be added: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary

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idkwhatimdoinghere1655 · 7 months

Note

Are your requests open? I would love to request a dad!carlos fic if you feel like it ❤️ also side note, I’m not a huge Max fan but your baby fever fic literally had me kicking my feet and giggling so well done

Picture of Perfection - Carlos Sainz

If you were being honest with yourself, you shouldn't have been in work today. You had never felt worse, and it was really putting a damper on your performance. You had been Fred Vasseur's assistant since he had replaced Binotto at Ferrari, and your job was pretty easy.

You sorted his schedule and his emails into different sections. But today, you couldn't even muster the energy to respond to the numerous unimportant emails that Fred received on a daily basis. Your head was throbbing, you felt sick to your stomach, and you wished you could shrivel up into a ball and die.

As the phone rung, the shrill ringtone felt like a nail being tapped into your skull with every note, and you were sure your head was going to explode. Picking up the call wasn't at the top of your to do list, but if it stopped the ringing, then it was worth it.

"You're speaking to Y/N, how can I help?" you said, trying to sound as cheerful as possible. As long as people didn't look at you, there was no way to tell that you felt like you were dying. "I think you're the one that needs help," a voice chuckled, and relief flooded you when you heard it.

"Did you call to talk to Fred, or to make fun of me, Carlos?" You asked your oh so sympathetic fiance. "We have our fun, but I was calling to check up on you. How are you feeling, querida?" he asked, his tone changing to a slightly more soft one.

"I'm fine, just a little rough. I'll bring your lunch down in a few," you said, checking the time on your computer. "You really don't sound fine," he pressed, but he had bigger things to focus on today. Him and Charles were testing out some upgrades on the car.

"I will be after lunch, I'm sure. Can you ask Charles if he wants anything as well?" You said, walking to the canteen. Carlos knew you wouldn't be fine, but he would wait to see you to make his final decisions about what he would do with you.

You heard some muffled voices through the phone, before Carlos said, "Yeah, get him the same as me, I'll see you in a minute," he said, putting the phone down. You trudged down to the canteen and picked up the food for the pair of them.

As you walked, people cast dubious glances in your direction. You knew you felt awful, but it was apparent that you weren't looking great either. You kept your head held as high as you could as you wandered down to the garage, and found Carlos and Charles sat by their cars as the mechanics adjusted some things.

"Lunch is served," you smiled, painting on your best poker face. But, there were cracks running through from the start, and Carlos saw straight through it. They both thanked you as you handed them their lunch, and you stepped to stand back beside Carlos.

"Come on, tell me what's wrong," Carlos said, barely loud enough to be heard over the noise of the cars and machines that the engineers and mechanics were running. "I promise, I'm OK," you reassured him. He knew that was a lie, and so did everyone around you.

Your skin was paler and your eyes looked sunken. You were also looking more dishevelled than normal, since you were usually quite bright and bouncy. "If you don't tell me what's wrong, then I can't help you," he said, looking up at you with those big brown eyes.

His fingers slowly trailed up and down your spine as you stood next to him, and you felt a wave of nausea rush over you. The smell of the oil, the fuel and burning rubber caused your stomach to twist in knots, and you firmly gripped your hand onto Carlos' shoulder to steady yourself. You were slightly dizzy and unsteady on your feet.

"Hey, hey, sit down for a second," he told you, standing up and gently pushing you towards the seat he had just vacated. Sitting down was arguably the last thing you needed right now. Your eyes darted around the garage, hunting something down that would be the best option to spill your guts into.

Nothing checked out.

Your last option was to sprint to the bathrooms at the back of the garage, and you came up with all of this in around a second. Your mind had never worked so fast. Within a blink of an eye, you had run all the way across the garage, hand firmly pressed against your mouth.

"Shit," you heard Carlos say behind you as his footsteps followed you closely. You barged through the ladies room and into the first open stall. Everything that you had eaten throughout the day exited your body in a violent wretch, and your throat was left burning and raw.

"You're OK, just let it out," Carlos said, rubbing your back and pulling your hair out of the way. You looked up at him, concern written all over his face. "You guys OK?" you heard Charles shout, confused at how fast everything had gone south.

"Could you pass me a water, please?" Carlos called back, going to the door to catch it. Throwing it might not have been the best idea, but it certainly was the quickest. He cracked it open, before handing it to you.

"Thanks," you said, your voice scratchy and hoarse as you spoke. The taste of it still lingered on your tongue and it was far from pleasant. "I'll go get your stuff, then I'll drive you home," he said, handing you some paper towels from the dispenser.

"I'll be fine, it'll pass," you said, taking a sip from the water.

"No, you need to go home," he said, taking a step towards you. You were never sick, so this was unusual. He would be more worried about you if you were at work, because you'd be more comfortable at home.

You took another sip of your water. "Honestly, Carlos, I'll be fine in-," you started, before hunching back over the toilet. It was just straight water, and your body was rejecting everything you put in it. "You were saying?" he teased, leaning against the sinks.

You just looked at him, discomfort etched onto your features. "Come on, you're going home," he said, gently taking your elbow. "I can drive myself, you've got important stuff to do," you said, not wanting to interrupt his day.

"I'm on break for an hour, that's enough time to get you home," he said, his heart aching to see you like you were. "OK, I'll go and tell Fred I'm going,"

"I'll take care of all that, you just go to the car and I'll get your stuff," he told you, leading you out of the bathroom and back through the garage. "You alright?" Charles asked, realising how much worse you looked in the pan of five minutes.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be fine," you weakly smiled at him.

"I'll be back in a bit," Carlos told him as he helped you walk out to the car. You sat in the passenger seat, actually quite glad to be going home. Carlos went to get your things, and came back to the car. "When we get home, you're going straight to bed," Carlos said.

"Sure, dad," you laughed, the motion of you giggling making your stomach churn. You closed your eyes for a minute, waiting for it to pass. "Just breathe, baby," he told you as if you hadn't already tried that.

"Easier said than done," you said, gripping your thighs to try and take the edge off, to focus your mind on something else. Without another word, Carlos took one of your hands and threaded his fingers through yours as he drove home. His thumb subconsciously ran up and down, just out of habit.

You pulled up outside your house, slowly stepping out of the car. You took another moment to steady yourself, the dizziness returning. "Take it steady, take it steady," Carlos softly instructed, looping an arm around your waist as he walked you inside.

"Couch or bed?" Carlos asked as you stood in the entrance hall.

"Couch, it's close to the kitchen and the bathroom," you said as he sat you on the couch.

"You want to get changed?" He asked. He had this compulsion inside of him to take care of you. Seeing you uncomfortable made him uncomfortable. It was like this itch inside his brain that couldn't be scratched unless you were happy.

"The less moving involved, the better," you said, flopping down on the couch and not wanting to move from your position. "I'll see what I can do," he nodded, ascending up the stairs and rooting through the drawers to find what he was looking for.

Yes, it was his hoodie, but you wore it more than him. He would wear it once, then it was yours for the taking. "Here, do you want a drink?" He said, passing you the hoodie. You slipped it over your head, not bothered to take off your clothes from work.

"No thanks, it would come back to bite me anyway," you told him, bringing your knees up to your chest as you settled against the armrest of the couch. "You need to stay hydrated, you'll feel worse if you don't," he said, disappearing into the kitchen and returning with a glass of water.

"I'll try," you said. Carlos picked a blanket up from the back of the couch and draped it over you, making sure you were cosy. "You need anything else before I go?" He asked, not wanting to leave you by yourself. This was one of those days where you would benefit from his presence, from him holding you.

"I don't think so, I'll see you later," you tried to smile, not wanting him to be late for the end of lunch break. Charles would be waiting for him and so would everyone else. "OK, call me if you need me, alright?" He said, approaching you and kissing you on the forehead.

"I will," you said, picking up the TV remote and pressing the 'on' button. You shifted around for a second, before finding your comfy position. "I'll be back as soon as I can," he called, closing the door and heading back to the factory.

After around an hour, you tried sipping at the water, but it just came back up after a few minutes. As the movie you were watching came to a close, you were left in silence after the entire credits had rolled.

You were left thinking. You hadn't been feeling too great for the last few days, but this was the worst of it. It didn't take much thinking for you to come to a conclusion. There were a few factors that added to it too.

Surely not though, right? And this wasn't the time for that. You and Carlos hadn't been engaged for that long, and you weren't thinking about that now. Maybe in a few years, yes, but definitely not now.

You sat there, fighting with yourself in your mind, feeling sicker with worry than you did with nausea. You told yourself you were being silly, and that you were just jumping to the most drastic conclusion possible.

Everything was going to be fine.

Carlos, on the other hand, was worried sick about you for a whole other reason. He thought you were sick, like, sick sick. Not the kind of sick you thought you were. He thought you had a stomach bug, but not a literal one.

Him and Charles had another quick, fifteen minute break to sit and have a drink while the mechanics tinkered on some things. "Is Y/N alright?" Charles asked, glugging some more water down. "Yeah, she'll be fine. It's probably just a bug or something,"

"You sure?" Charles questioned, cocking an eyebrow at his friend. "She's been off for what, nearly two weeks?" he said, referring to your numerous complaints about different ailments you had.

"I'm sure it's nothing," Carlos dismissed. You'd be right as rain again in a couple of days, that's what he kept telling himself. "You two have plenty of fun, just think about it," Charles smirked.

"No, no, mhm," Carlos shook his head in embarrassment, "I know what you're implying, but no," he rushed. "That you get up to a lot or what could be up with Y/N?"

"Both," Carlos said, standing and leaving Charles by himself. He couldn't think about either of those things right now.

"Carlos, is that you?" You called out, trying to act like everything was fine and you were feeling better. Well, you were feeling better, but you were just anxious. "Yeah, it's me," he said, walking into the living room and sitting on the couch next to you. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel alright, but the water came straight back up when I tried drinking it," you explained, not able to meet his eyes. He could tell there was something wrong by your body language. You were stiff and your hands were fidgeting.

"Come on, what's wrong?" he pressed, and you could feel his eyes burning holes into the side of your face. "Nothing, I feel fine," you told him, shrugging your shoulders.

"Then what's really wrong?" he asked, grabbing your chin and turning your head so that you were looking at him. You didn't want to tell him. You didn't want him to be mad. This wasn't part of the plan.

You whispered what you wanted to say, but so quietly it was unintelligible. You weren't even sure you had fully formed legible words. "Louder, querida,".

"I think I'm pregnant," you said, staring into his eyes, searching. Searching for any sense of anger, annoyance, hatred towards you. But you saw nothing but the soft brown eyes you had become so accustomed to.

"Have you done a test or anything?" he asked, not really knowing what to say to you.

"No, not yet," you muttered, averting your eyes down to your hands instead of at Carlos.

"Then I'll go to the store, pick one up, and we can see, OK?" he asked.

"Yeah, OK, sounds good," you nodded, and he was gone nearly as quickly as he came. You didn't have a clue how he felt, he was completely neutral. He didn't show any emotion.

Before you knew it, you had left the test on the bathroom counter and sat with your back against it while you waited for the time to be over. Carlos wordlessly came and sat next you, resting his hands on his knees.

"What're we going to do if I am?" you broke the silence, the question being on the tip of your tongue since he had gotten back home. "I'll support whatever decision you make, no matter what," he said, his tone dripping with sincerity.

"If I am, I want to keep it," you mumbled, waiting for him to yell at you or walk out.

"Then I'll be here every step of the way," he said, "I- I want a baby with you, Y/N, I really do," he told you, placing a calming hand on your thigh. "I feel like there's a 'but' at the end of that sentence," you nervously said.

"No, baby, no, there's no but. I mean it," he said, and a part of you felt comforted at his words. The minutes went by and they felt like hours. Long, agonizing hours. "How long has it been?" he asked.

"Two minutes, I think?"

"OK, we'll give it a bit longer so the results are clear and everything," he nodded. He didn't want to tell you how much he actually wanted you to be pregnant, just in case you weren't. He didn't want you to feel like you had let him down or anything.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, turning to look at you. You were still pale, and you were still mindlessly fiddling with your fingers. "I'm scared, nervous, but excited at the same time. I'll be kind of disappointed if I'm not, but also terrified if I am,"

"Well whatever the outcome is, I'll be here. If you are, then that's great. But if you aren't, we can think about it fully and maybe start properly trying if that's what you want," he explained, and it sounded like music to your ears. "What would we do about the wedding?"

"I'd still have our wedding if you were pregnant, but if you don't want to, then we can wait. I honestly don't mind," he smiled, his fingers tracing random circles on the skin of your thigh. You were counting your lucky stars that you had ended up with a guy like Carlos.

"You think we should check?" you nervously laughed, genuinely not knowing what you wanted the outcome to be. "Do you want to do it or do you want me to do it?" he asked, wanting to make this as easy as possible for you.

"Could you go and stand outside while I do it?" you asked, and he happily nodded and stood outside the bathroom as you closed the door. You blocked out the world around you. In this moment, it was just you and your thoughts.

You took a deep breath, trying to slow your heart rate down a bit. You thought prolonging it would only make it worse, so you turned over the test on the counter and had to clap your hand over your mouth to stop yourself from screaming.

You stared at it, as if looking at it longer would change it. As if it would make that second pink line disappear. You tried to compose yourself before going to tell Carlos. You were trying to hide the joy, just incase what he said earlier was just him being supportive.

"Y/N? Baby? Are you alright?" he said, knocking on the door gently. You didn't answer, unsure of what would come out if you opened your mouth. "Querida? Por favor, diga algo," (please, say something). You could hear the concern and worry in his voice, but your mouth wouldn't say the words you wanted it to say.

"Can I come in?" he asked, getting really concerned at your lack of a response. He wouldn't have been surprised if he walked in and you had passed out due to your silence. Just as he turned the door handle, you opened the door.

You looked at him, wide-eyed, as you handed him the thing that would change your lives forever. You searched his face, trying to find any hints of emotion. You could see the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, but you were certain your eyes were playing tricks on you.

You couldn't handle it anymore, so you threw your arms around his neck. "Are you happy?" he asked, not wanting to give his full reaction until he knew how you felt. "I'm ecstatic, you?"

"I'm over the moon, baby," he smiled, squeezing you back. He let you go, and you couldn't help but allow a few happy tears to slip down your cheeks."I think we're going to have to postpone the wedding," you told him, and he smiled and nodded.

"You're having my baby, your wish is my command," he said, vowing to be there through every little thing, and he was your slave for the next nine-or-so months. That was the least you deserved.

"This is amazing," you smiled, not really finding the words to express the joy you felt. It had all been so quick, but it had led to this, so you weren't going to complain. "Looks like you're stuck with me forever, now," you joked.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," he smiled, trailing his fingers up and down your hips. You were all he ever wanted, and now you were having his child. His child. It didn't sound real, but in the best way possible.

You had gotten home early, and you couldn't stop looking and touching at the small bump you had growing. You were around 4 months pregnant at this point, and you couldn't have been more excited for your impending arrival.

You had just received a text from Carlos, asking if you wanted anything from the store while he was on his way home. He did this every day, no matter the time, no matter how tired he was, no matter what.

You and your baby came before everything and anything, with no exceptions. He treat you like a princess, and sometimes he stepped around you like you were a paper-thin sheet of glass. He didn't let you do much by yourself anymore.

You didn't mind, but you had asked him to stop treating you as if you were incompetent. You replied to his text with a food combination you had been desperate to try all day. Your brain was just telling you it would be good, so you thought you would feed it what it wanted.

Carlos responded with a 'That's gross, but sure', and you couldn't help but laugh. He was back after fifteen minutes, your items in hand. "If you get ill, don't blame me, OK?" he laughed, handing you the jar of pickles as well as the peanut butter.

"I honestly hate how good this looks to me right now," you laughed as he took a seat next to you. "Y'know, the lady at the counter said, 'It's either you know someone who's pregnant, or you've got weird tastes," he told you as you cracked open the peanut butter with a pop.

"What did you say?" asked, trying to open the jar of pickles, but struggling immensely.

"I told her my fiance was pregnant, and she was relieved," he laughed, finding it very amusing to watch you struggle. "Hand it here," he said, and you passed him the jar with a huff. Effortlessly, Carlos opened the jar of pickles, and you hated the way you felt about it.

It just made you tingle all over, and you blamed the hormones for making you go crazy. It was just something about the way his arms flexed to make his muscles pop and how his knuckles went white because of how hard he was gripping the lid.

"You like what you see?" he smirked, handing you the jar again.

"Maybe I do," you replied with a grin, batting your eyelashes at him. He looked at you with the eyes, and they never failed to reduce you to mush and answer his every last little request. But you had him under your spell.

"Later, querida," he winked at you, pushing himself off the couch. "I'm going to have a shower, you think you can cope with the thought of me till them?" he teased.

"Oh I'll be fine, don't you worry," you giggled.

"But first, I want to see the disgust on your face when you realise how disgusting that combination is," he laughed, leaning over the back of the couch to look at you. You dipped the pickle into the peanut butter and took a bite out of it.

"OK that is actually really nice," you smiled, going back in for another taste. Carlos' nose scrunched up in disgust. "That is nasty, ew, no," be laughed, backing away and up the stairs. "You should try it!" you collared, and you were met with a hearty laugh.

When Carlos came back downstairs from the shower, his hair was wet and he look a lot comfier. A lot hotter too. "How were the pickles?" He asked, looking at the pickle jar that only had a quarter of the pickles left in it. And the half-empty jar of peanut butter.

"Great, you want one?" you offered, brandishing the jar in front of him. Carlos didn't like pickles on the best of days, but definitely not now. "Not a chance, that shit is nasty," he laughed, pushing the jar back towards you.

"I'll tell you what else could be nasty," you smirked, looking at him with a devilish smile on your face. "Oh, so you're being like that, baby?"

"Maybe I am," you said, leaning back and watching as that mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes. "I'll see what I can do for you, then," he grinned, walking towards you. You knew just what to say to make him tick, and you had done it again.

As much as your bump slowed you down, it didn't make you work any less hard. Fred had asked you to carry a box of some sort of documents down to the guys at the garage, and you were glad to be able to stretch your legs.

You got to the door to get out of the office, but you couldn't open it with the box in your hands. As any normal person would, you put the box on the floor to open the door, and then bent over to pick it back up.

"Hey, hey, hey, you OK?" Carlos appeared out of nowhere, pulling you back so you were stood upright. "Yeah, I'm just taking this box down to the garage," you nodded, appreciating the concern. He thought you were doubled over and in pain, but he was glad to be wrong.

"You go sit down, I've got it," he said, picking the box up.

"Carlos, I need to do something with myself, a bit of exercise is good for me," you told him, trying to pull the box off him. "No heavy lifting, that's what the doctors said, you can walk with me," he said, setting off through the door.

"You think that that box his heavy? You need to work out more, Carlos," you mocked, walking beside him. "No, but you know that's not what I mean. Minimal strain,"

"I think you pay more attention than I do," you laughed, skipping down the stairs.

"Someone has to take care of you," he playfully rolled his eyes at you, watching your every move as you hopped down the stairs. "Where do you want this?" He asked as you reached the garage.

"Just put it down there, they'll know it's there," you said, pointing to the corner Fred told you to put the box in. He had told the mechanics that it was there, and someone would come and find it later.

"What are you even doing here today?" you asked, the question suddenly dawning on you. You knew there was no testing on the car, and Fred didn't have any meetings with him or Charles today. "Just some stuff with the media people and stuff," he lied.

Well, half-lied. They did have a meeting with the media people, but that had finished an hour ago. He didn't need to be at the factory anymore, but he was compelled to keep an eye on you. It wasn't that he thought you were incapable of taking care of yourself, he just needed to be there in case anything went wrong.

If you needed him, he would be there. If something happened and he wasn't, he would never be able to forgive himself. "OK, well I'll see you in a bit," you said, seeing that something was up but not thinking too much about it.

You walked away and off to your desk to do another hour-or-so's work before you broke off for lunch. You checked Fred's calendar again, answered a lot of emails, but you felt a pair of eyes lingering on you.

You looked up from your screen, but you didn't see anyone there. But, as soon as you focused back on your work, you felt the eyes glued to you again. This time when you looked up, you saw a motion in the doorway in front of you.

Sighing to yourself, you figured you would leave Car- I mean the mystery individual to play their little games. You let him watch for a bit, let him think he had won. Then, you looked up again, catching him dashing behind the doorway.

"Carlos, what are you doing?" you called out, staring at the doorway. There was zero movement, and he clearly thought he was being slick. "Carlos, come on darling, what are you doing?" you called out again, and he slowly wandered out.

"I was just inspecting the doorframe, making sure it wasn't going to collapse or something," he rambled, leaning on your desk with his hands on the edge of the wood. "Sure you were, don't you have media stuff to be doing?" you skeptically asked.

"Yeah, actually, I have to go and do that, right now," he said, turning around and walking away as quickly as he could. It was very odd, but you just thought it was Carlos being Carlos.

Finally, lunch rolled around and you took yourself to the kitchen, where your lunch sat waiting for you in the fridge. The kitchen was empty, since you tended to take lunch later than everyone else, and it was nice to have some silence during the day.

Next to you, you heard something falling off the table, and turned to see a potted plant on the floor, with soil everywhere. Then you saw the perpetrator. "What's your excuse for sitting under a table while I'm eating my lunch, Carlos?"

"I was uh-," he stuttered, and you could see the cogs turning in his brain, trying to churn out an excuse. "Go on, lie to me," you said, staring daggers into his soul.

"Fine, I was just making sure you were OK, that's all," he breathed, sitting down opposite you.

"I can take care of myself, Carlos. You don't need to watch over me 'secretly' like you have been all day," you told him, watching as his cheeks tinted pink and he couldn't meet your gaze. "Querida, I know that, I just want to be here if you need me,"

"If I need you, I will call you. Go home, relax, have some peace and quiet. We will be completely fine," you reassured him, and you could tell he still wasn't fully convinced. You also didn't think it would take that much, but there you were.

"Look, I really appreciate you wanting to be here for me, I really do. But you don't have to watch my every move. If I need you, I will tell you," you further pressed, taking his hand from across the table.

"Do I have to go home though? I can just sit with you at your desk, bring you snacks, talk if you get bored. You won't even know I'm there, baby, I promise," he pleaded, looking at you through those big brown eyes.

"Go home, and take some time for yourself. It's not a request, it's an order," you said sternly. Carlos looked dejected, and he had resigned himself to the fact that there was nothing he could do. "Yes ma'am," he sighed, unhooking his jacket off the rack with a sulk.

"Please?" he begged one more time, standing by the door.

"Go home." You told him one more time. He pouted, and you glared at him. He knew not to argue with you when you were being really stern with him, and he knew he had to go. Carlos didn't know what he'd do without you at home.

He literally lived to serve you, and make sure you and your child were OK. That was his life, besides racing. He hadn't been by himself in a while, and he felt kind of lost without you. But he did as he was told, and went home, by himself.

The second he got home, he couldn't resist the urge to pick up his phone and text you. 'Hey baby, how are you doing?' and you just sighed, looking at your phone. There was no way you were responding to him.

'Hey, is everything OK?' he texted back around fifteen minutes later, the show he was watching wasn't occupying his mind like he wanted it to. No matter what, every thought in his mind was replaced by panicked thoughts of you, in pain or something.

He couldn't go by a second without worrying for you if you weren't around him. You ignored this message too, thinking it would teach him a lesson. 'Querida, if you don't tell me you're OK, I will come straight back to work,' he messaged, his leg nervously bouncing up and down.

He was staring daggers into the car keys on the coffee table, almost willing them into his hand by telepathy. When you read that text, you knew he was deadly serious, so you had to text him back. 'Carlos. You come back to work and we are going to have some serious issues. I'm fine,'

Carlos almost didn't want you to respond, just so he'd have the excuse to drive back to work. But he needed to know you were alright, he just wouldn't be able to make sure of that himself. He had a secret weapon lurking up his sleeve.

He might have been sent home, but he knew someone who hadn't been. Charles was at the factory, and he was actually supposed to be there, because he actually had meetings. He would check on you between meetings, and report back to Carlos.

You were sat on your desk, when Charles walked past and smiled. Obviously, you smiled back and didn't think twice about it. Ten minutes later, he came back and stood right in front of your desk, seeming to be doing something on his phone.

You caught his eyes as they flicked up from the screen and onto you, before he walked away. "Hey, do you know if Fred had any messages for me?" Charles asked, coming over to your desk. "No, nothing," you shook your head.

"Can you check?" Charles asked, as if he were expecting something, but you knew there was nothing. "There's nothing," you told him again.

"Fine, fine," he said, knowing there was nothing he could do, "How are you feeling?" he asked, leaning over the desk. "You can tell Carlos I'm fine and that nothing is wrong," you said, instantly sussing out what he was doing.

"I'm just asking how you are," he sheepishly explained, rubbing the back of his neck.

"You're a bad liar, I'm fine," you said, resting your head on your hands.

"But he-"

"Charles. Tell him I am fine," you instructed, glaring at him. He put his hands up defensively, backing up from the desk. "OK, OK, I get it," he said backing away and out into the hallway. He texted Carlos to tell him that you had foiled their plans.

You rolled your eyes as he walked away, but a small grin spread on your lips at the thought of him, texting Charles and asking him to watch over you.

"Shit," you whispered to yourself, turning over for the literal thousandth time. No position was comfortable, your overly swollen stomach got in the way at every turn. You just decided to lie there in the dark, your eyes wide open as you stared into the blackness.

There were rims of moonlight coming through the sides of the curtains, but that was it. Carlos was so tired after a day at the factory, and he had been out for hours at this point. In the end, you thought you'd lie there until you became so tired you would pass out.

No matter what, everything was aching. Your back was constantly sending uncomfortable shoots up your spine, and it made everything a challenge. Including falling asleep. This combined with the pounding in your head didn't help. Turning your head to the side, you saw that it was nearing on three am.

You turned your attention back on the ceiling as you thought about what you were going to do tomorrow. Well, later that same day. You had been on maternity leave for around two weeks, and you had already done everything you wanted to do around the house.

Time ticked agonizingly by, the silence and darkness driving you crazier by the second. And more frustrated at the lack of sleep you were getting. Just as you were going to go downstairs and do something to try and make yourself tired, the bed shifted next to you and the bathroom light flicked on.

You stayed in the same position, expecting him to just walk back to bed and not notice you. The second before he turned the light off, he notices your open eyes looking back at him. "Hey, baby, did I wake you up?" he asked in a hushed whisper, getting back into bed and shuffling as close to you as possible.

"No, don't worry. I wasn't asleep," you said, sighing.

"What, so you haven't slept?" he asked, lying on his side to face you as his fingers traced shapes on your stomach. "No, I can't," you shook your head, hoping he would just brush it off and go back to sleep, but you knew he wouldn't.

"What can I do?" he asked. You may not have been able to see him very well, but you could feel his eyes burning holes in the side of your face. "I'll fall asleep soon, I'm really tired," you told him, your right hand tangling into his dark locks.

"Well then, what can I do to help you fall asleep quicker?" he lightly chuckled, prodding you gently in the ribs. "You've had a long day, darling, go to sleep," you instructed, not wanting to make him tired later.

"You've had just as long a day as I have, querida, you need to sleep too. You not sleeping isn't good for you, it isn't good for the baby, and that therefore means it's not good for me either," he chuckled. "So you're trying to guilt trip me into letting you help me?" you asked, and you could just picture the smirk you knew was on his face.

"Yes and no, and I know it's working. We're in this together, if you're awake, I'm awake. If you need something, I am here," he told you. You weren't the biggest fan of always relying on him for things, since you liked to have some form of independence, but it was times like these where you were extremely grateful to have someone so caring and doting.

"So, do you want a tea, or an extra blanket, or we can go and do something until you get tired?" he listed, masking the yawn he was letting out. "A tea sounds great," you told him, and he was gone like a flash. "Do you want anything else while I'm downstairs?"

"Could you grab two paracetamols and my book off the coffee table?" you asked, the hall light switching on outside. "Headache?"

"No points for guessing that one," you laughed, rubbing your temples as Carlos headed downstairs. A few minutes later, he was back, with a perfectly brewed tea in one hand, and your book with the paracetamols balanced on top of it in the other.

"I didn't make it too hot so you can drink it straight away," he smiled, "Watch your eyes," he said, turning the lamp on as you screwed them shut. It took a second for them to adjust, but you were fine after a few seconds.

He handed you the mug and the white tablets, downing them in a second. "Thank you," you smiled, and you could still see the tiredness in his face. "Anything for you," he hummed, setting your book in your lap and sitting next to you.

You had nearly finished your tea, and it was already making you feel sleepy as the paracetamol seemed to be working on your headache, it turning from a pounding to a soft thumping instead. As if on cue, you and Carlos yawned in unison.

"I think we should probably try sleeping now, yeah?" you asked, shimmying back down under the covers and putting your book aside. You wouldn't need it after all. "Yeah, yeah, c'mere," he smiled, switching the lamp back off and shuffling into you. He pulled you against him, his chin resting atop your head as his hand lazily trailed across your stomach.

Even now, it was a strange sensation that he relished. Knowing that your baby was just beneath his fingertips, only separated by a few centimetres, made his heart sing with glee. It made him look forward to the impending day that they would arrive even more, and he couldn't wait to hold them and give them the best life possible.

He knew the two of you would be brilliant, loving parents to your child, no matter what. He also knew there'd be hard times, but you'd get through it together. Just like you always did.

"Goodnight, darling," you sleepily whispered, tangling his legs with yours.

"Goodnight, baby," he mumbled into your hair, trying to force himself to keep his eyes open. Unless you were asleep, he wasn't allowed to. Thankfully, he waited for around ten minutes and he was confident you were fast asleep, and nothing could harm you.

Not while his two favourite people in the whole world were at home, in his arms where he could keep you safe until the end of time. That was how it would always be, for forever and longer if the world would let him.

God you were tired. Well, you had every right to be. No more than an hour ago, you and Carlos had welcomed your newest family member into the world. You nearly refused to sleep so you could watch over her, but your body wouldn't let you stay awake.

"Baby, please sleep. I'll watch her, she'll be fine," Carlos had told you, even though his body was also desperate for rest after being there through every second of the 9 hour labour process. He didn't care about himself though, he could stay up for hours to make sure you got the rest you needed.

You were exhausted, and deservedly so, and he would happily wait up for longer to give you the time. Also, he couldn't take his eyes off of your sleeping daughter. She was absolutely perfect in every way, and she was currently sleeping in the corner as he watched her.

You were sleeping lightly, your parental instincts keeping you on edge, ready to strike into action at the drop of a hat. The silence was nice, as well as the lack of pain. It was like your body was floating you felt so peaceful, yet alert. Carlos was holding your hand, his habit of running his thumb up and down not being broken just yet.

His eyes were pinned on her, monitoring her every breath, searching for any tiny abnormality. She was his responsibility, and he was not going to let a single thing happen to her. He had only held her once so far, and he was so desperate to hold her again, but he couldn't wake her.

He wasn't even able to hold you right now, so his arms felt cold and empty. Every now and then, he would check the digital clock on the bedside table on the other side of you, just to see how much time had passed by.

He lost track after a while, and your girl woke up, the small beginnings of a cry escaping her lips. "Hey, hey, cariño," he said, approaching her and picking her up. One hand was under her head, the other one under her back as he handled her like she could shatter at any given time.

He held her against his chest, lightly bouncing her from side to side. His every touch was as delicate as a feather, not wanting to harm her in any way. "You're OK, Daddy's here," he soothed, rubbing her back. She was slowly getting louder, but he didn't want to wake you up.

"Shh, don't cry, you don't want to wake Mommy, she's tired," he said as if she could understand him. It was almost as if she had, however, because her cries quietened and stopped as she fell silent against Carlos' chest.

"Thank you, cariño," he smiled, planting a kiss atop the soft skin of her head, "Now let's sit down and wait for Momma to wake up," he told her, refusing to put her back down in her cot. He wanted to keep her tucked against his chest, where she was safe.

She was so tiny against him, her back barely the size of the span of his hand. It felt so weird to have such a high amount of love for such a tiny someone, but she was just too perfect not to adore with every fibre that he had in his being.

"While we have some Daddy-daughter time, there are a couple of things I want to say to you," he started, looking over at you to see if you had woken up. Your eyes were still closed, and your position hadn't shifted, so he assumed you were still asleep.

"For starters, you have no idea how excited I am to finally be able to meet you and hold you. I guess you'll only really know if you have your own kids. But I don't want you thinking about that yet, you're not allowed a boyfriend or girlfriend or whatever whoever you like until you're at least twenty-one, and I'm serious about that,"

"Next up, you're going to have to work with me here, I am going to teach you Spanish so we can gossip and your Mom won't know what we're saying, since she failed miserably when I taught her Spanish. No sabía escuchar y siempre estaba distraída," (she was not a good listener and always got distracted)

You didn't have a clue what he had said to her, and you didn't like the sound of not being able to understand what they could be saying. But, you had to bite back a giggle at his comment about no romance until she was twenty-one.

"Finally, since I'm sure you're already getting bored of me talking at you, but get used to it, I promise I will love you no matter what, until the day I die. I will protect you and keep you safe, no matter how old and frail I might become,"

"I also hope you know just how lucky you are to have the best mother in the whole entire universe. I might not always be with you, since I'll be racing, but she will be. You will grow up with the best role-model you could ask for, and I know you'll be a fantastic person too. I love you, cariño,"

"Thanks for making me cry, Carlos, I appreciate it," you spoke up, wiping the tears from your eyes. You loved what he had said, and your hormones were still all over the place. "You weren't supposed to hear that," he chuckled, shifting in his seat to face you more.

"You can try and teach me Spanish again, I don't want to be left out," you smiled, looking at the perfect picture that was set out in front of you. "Sure, we can try that again," he nodded.

"Can I have her?" you asked, holding your arms out for him to put your precious girl into. Carlos just smirked and shook his head, "No, she's mine,"

"Please?" you pouted, leaning forward to try and take her away from him. You just wanted to hold your daughter, it really wasn't a big ask. "OK, baby, OK," he triedly smiled, placing her in your arms. "But move up, I want to sit with you," he said.

You made sure she was comfortable, and scooted to the side so he could sit on your hospital bed with the two of you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, not able to stop his fingers from brushing against her.

Carlos was finally able to close his eyes and let his guard down. He was finally able to rest for a bit. Not for too long, but for a bit. "Hey darling, before you sleep, we're sticking with the name we chose, right?" you asked.

"I think it suits her," he sleepily nodded against your shoulder. You agreed, and left him to get some well-deserved rest. He had been there through every torturous second, sat through all the abuse you had hurled at him, and stuck through his hand getting crushed or his shoulder being punched.

And he'd do it all over again. He'd do it all for his girls, he'd do anything.

"She's normally very talkative, but she's just pretending to be shy," you laughed with Toto as Harper giggled and buried her head in your neck. She was always the center of attention at every race, and she had grown to know a lot of people.

Toto received a text, and had to dash off. You thought it would be best to head back to the garage anyway, so you set off across the paddock. A couple of people were having interviews, and she waved at her favourites as you passed by.

She waved at a certain curly haired boy, and his eyes lit up at the sight of her. Sure, he was in an interview, but he just said, "Sorry, I have to go," and dashed over to the pair of you.

"Well if it isn't my favourite little lady!" Lando exclaimed, plucking her out of your arms as she willingly let him take her. "Muppet!" was all Harper she said, since it was her way of greeting him since she had heard Carlos say it a few times.

"Now what is this?" he asked, poking her in the stomach and making her giggle uncontrollably. "Your Daddy might race for Ferrari, but your favourite uncle Lando doesn't. This should be papaya, not red," he playfully scolded, tickling her even more.

Her laughter was contagious, and you could see other drivers and personnel around smiling at her. The cameras clicked as the press took some photos, and you could tell she was loving the attention.

"I also wear red, therefore she is in the perfect colour," Charles said, popping up beside you. "Carlos is just finishing up an interview, he'll be out in a few," Charles told you, as Harper held her arms out to him and did the grabby hands.

"I have been replaced, my heart is hurting," Lando said with feigned sadness as he clutched at his heart. Thankfully, Harper was used to being passed around from person to person often, so she didn't much mind.

"Think how I feel, she's always leaving me for one of you," you laughed, nudging him in the ribs. "You do make a good point, but you're not her favourite uncle," Lando said, folding his arms and he swayed from side to side.

"No, you're not, I am," Charles said, bouncing around with Harper on his hip as she continued to giggle at him. "We're not starting this now," you sighed, not wanting to hear the favourite uncle argument again.

But before they could answer, Harper was on her feet, running away from Charles. Tag was their favourite game, and he could never say no to her when she asked to play. Well, he never said no to her in regards to anything, but tag was the most important.

"Charles, be careful!" you called, not able to not worry about her running around a very crowded place. "I know!" he called back, slowly jogging to try and catch up to Harper.

"Don't worry Y/N, I'll keep an eye on them," Lando grinned, and you could see he was itching to get involved in the game. At this point, Harper was chasing Charles as fast as her little legs could carry her, but Charles was barely even walking away from her.

But, Harper saw opportunity strike when she saw Lando next to her. She hit him in the leg with a squealed, "Tag!" before turning and running away.

"Harps, you're just too fast!" Lando laughed, trying to chase her. His sights turned on Charles, however, who was cowering away from him. As Lando set off on the hunt for Charles, Harper laughed and clapped her little hands, "Run, Charlie, run!" she shouted as Lando grappled Charles and tagged him.

Harper started to run away again, when an arm slithered around your waist. "I have to be in an interview while you guys are all out here having fun, so unfair," Carlos smiled, pulling you into his side as he kissed you on the head.

He was so glad that his best friends were so good with his daughter, and she loved them just as much as they loved her. "I know, it's just so unfair," you laughed, smiling at him as he watched Harper, his eyes full of love and wonder.

The two of you chuckled as Charles caught Harper, picking her up as he tickled her. She squirmed in his arms, fits of giggles sounding out around the paddock. "Stop it!" she laughed, hitting him in the chest.

"Oh hey Carlos," Lando said, breathlessly coming and standing next to you. At the mention of her Dad's name, Harper's attention turned from Charles to Carlos. "Papa!" she exclaimed, wriggling out of Charles' arms and running over to Carlos.

She leapt into his arms as he picked her up and spun her around. "Hola, cariño, ¿qué tal?" he asked, holding her on his hip as she squished his cheeks. "Estoy bien, ¿y tú?" she smugly grinned, loving that she could show off the Spanish Carlos had been teaching her.

"Yo también," he proudly smiled, "Eres muy inteligente, ¿lo sabías?" he said, and your understanding of his words stopped right there. "Yo no comprende," she looked at him, confusion written all over her face.

"All I said was that you're my clever girl, sweetheart," he smiled kissing her on the cheek. She let out a giggle of happiness, her smile lighting up Carlos' face. You could watch them together all day, and it was your favourite form of entertainment.

He kissed her on the other cheek, and she scrunched her nose up. Carlos started kissing her all over her face, as she squealed and squirmed. "Daddy, stop it! That tickles!" she laughed, trying to push his head away from her.

"Does it? I hadn't noticed," he chuckled as he carried on. But he eventually stopped, leaving her breathless from laughing. Harper rested her head on Carlos' shoulder as you, Charles, Lando and him stood and talked.

You noticed she hadn't said anything in a while, so you stepped to stand behind Carlos. "Harper? Sweetheart? Are you tired?" You asked, her eyes looking droopy as you brushed a lock of her dark hair out of her face. It was nearly as dark as Carlos'.

"Mhm," she nodded, her face squished against Carlos' shoulder.

"OK, do you want to go for a nap?" you asked, gently massaging her scalp.

"Yeah," she yawned, all of that running around with Charles and Lando clearly making her tired. "Come on then," you said, she flopped out of Carlos' arms and into yours. She buried her head in the crook of your neck, her breath soft on your skin.

"I'm going to her to your room, I'll see you guys in a bit," you said, rubbing your hand over Harper's back soothingly. "Yeah, that's fine, is she OK?" Carlos asked, instantly thinking she had fallen ill or something, "Estoy cansada, Papa," she mumbled, lifting her head to look at her Dad.

"OK, I'll see you later," he nodded, kissing Harper on the head and tugging you close to him for a kiss. "See you later, Harps, say bye to Muppet and Charlie," you told her. She smiled at the two drivers, waving them goodbye.

"Bye," she sleepily chuckled, and Charles took her hand and kissed the back of it as he smiled at her. "Sleep well, Harper," he said, and she always giggled at the charm of Charles.

"I'll beat you in tag next time, little lady," Lando smiled, fist bumping her before you walked away. You took her all the way over to the Ferrari motorhome, and into Carlos' drivers room. It was quiet in there, and the couch was comfortable enough.

"Do you want to sleep on the couch?" you quietly asked Harper as she looked up at you with those big brown eyes that were identical to Carlos', and you could see the tiredness in them. "No, I want to sit with you," she mumbled, shifting around until she was happy in your lap.

"OK, sleep well, sweetheart," you said, planting an affectionate kiss on her head. For a while, you just sat there, Harper soundly sleeping on you. You looked at the table opposite you, and all of the pictures on there brought back the best memories in your life.

One of them was the day Harper was born, and you were sat in the hospital, sleeping with her on your chest. Another was of the three of you on a carousel when you went to a carnival the previous year. You took the picture, and Harper was smiling while sat on Carlos' knee as the horse flew up and down.

The final one was just of you, and you remembered it was from on of your first dates with Carlos. He had offered to take a picture of you with the full moon behind you, and it instantly became his favourite photo.

The door to the room opened, and you were initially alarmed. You were afraid that the person thought Carlos was in there and were going to wake up Harper by accident. "Hey, baby," he quietly said, slowly closing the door behind him.

"Hi, darling," you smiled as he came to sit beside you.

"How long has she been asleep for?" He asked, his hand moving to the back of your head and gently playing with your hair. You pushed your head into his hand, the feeling sending warm tingles through your brain.

"Half an hour, she was asleep as soon as we sat down," you told him, slotting yourself into his side like a puzzle piece. "Do you want me to take her? Your legs are probably getting numb," he said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pressing a kiss into your hair.

"I'm alright, I don't want to wake her," you told him, leaning your head onto his shoulder.

"OK, but let me know if you want me to take her," he told you, resting his head atop yours. You closed your eyes for a moment, just feeling a little sleepy. But you had what you wanted, and all you needed in your life.

Carlos looked down at his girls, both sleeping and safe with him. You had given him everything he wanted in his life, and he would never be more grateful for that. The two of you were the picture of perfection, and neither of you would have it any other way.

A/N - This has been a long time coming, but it's here! Rest assured, all requests are being worked on! Also, I know I always give them daughters, but they're all girl dads to me, y'know? Feel free to submit any requests, I love to write them! Hope you enjoyed 💖

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