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laladellakang · 2 years

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차린건 쥐뿔도 없지만

masterlist | wattpad

italics dialogue = english

della is invited to lee youngji's show

p.s: the show is like 20mins long so this isn’t the WHOLE episode but just some cuts

p.p.s: della is gonna act really pick-me-ish here but remember, she’s drunk, actually dating the guys and is in a group full of men. she won’t act this way if she wasn’t any of those

happy anniversary everyone 🤍

"Who is it?!" Youngji struggled to reach the intercom. "Oh my God!" she jumped back in surprise when she saw Della's eye filling up the screen. "What is thiss?!"

"Sunbaenim, hello!" the younger then switched the attention to her lips.

"Omo- is this really our country's siren?" Youngji turned on the mic to ask with a chuckle, making the staff laugh.

"Ah that's right!" Della covered her mouth with her hand. "I was supposed to watch my image today!" and that only made the staff laugh more.

"Della-ya, you have to sing to enter," Youngji giggled.

"What?!"

"Be a siren, be a siren," she then stopped reaching towards the intercom.

"Wake up, I know you want it, we got you feelin' like layin' low," Della rapped almost monotonously.

"OH?! What is this feeling?!" Youngji started to get all dramatic, placing a hand on her chest while being 'swept' towards the door. "I didn't think she would rap my song- what is this beautiful voice?!"

"Flowers still bloom even on the dessert," she went on even more monotonously.

"Rap my part again!" Youngji yelled through the door.

"어린 창작자," Della simply said. "방법이 없어 yeah."

"Okay good enough, HELLO!" Youngji opened the door.

"Hello!" Della bowed her usual ninety-degree bow to Youngji and her staff.

"Why do you look so pretty?!" Youngji protested at Della's outfit. "This is supposed to be casual! I told you to dress casual!"

"Why are you so dressed up?!" Della asked back. For some reason, Youngji was wearing makeup and dressing very nicely.

"Ya- that's why I told you to dress casuallyy, so we balance each other," Youngji pointed. "Anyways- please, please sit down. Go eat the ramyeon."

"This is my first truly solo schedule so I need to give a great impression on the non-Engenes," Della sat on her spot. "I have to act more ladylike since the guys aren't here."

"Ah so if the members aren't with you, you're more ladylike?"

"Yes yes, that's what I promised myself or my family will go nuts," Della giggled, laying a blanket over her lap.

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"What did you bring with you?" a staff asked.

"Ah! I made everyone chocolate chip cookies!" Della reached in her paperbag to take out the food.

"NO WAY? YOU MADE THEM?!" Youngji's eyes widened while the staff 'aww'ed and said a bunch of 'you're so sweet's.

"I made them for the members but decided to make double for you guys," Della smiled sweetly and handed out the cookies. "I used bananas so they don't have added sugar."

"Oh my God!" Youngji observed the dessert. "I'm gonna eat it right now," Della waited in anticipation with puppy eyes. "Oh?! Why is so good?!"

"Really?" Della lit up.

"You can be rich by selling this!" Youngji's eyes widened. "No added sugar too!" she took one final mouthful of the cookie. "Mm! Really good."

"Thank you, I'm glad you like them," Della clapped a little.

"You give me cookies, I give you..." Youngji presented her bottle of Irish Cream. "I heard you hate alcohol so maybe sweeter ones will be nice," she poured the younger a shot. "And I also prepared Kahlua with milk like Soobin-ssi just in case."

"Yayy! Thank you-" Della clapped.

"Have you tried either of them?" Youngji held both of the bottles.

"Uhh, I think I've tried Bailey's but not.. the.. Kahlua," Della received the glass with a small bow. "Thanks- cheers!" they clinked their glass together and downed the drink.

"Why did you join this show if you dislike alcohol?" a staff asked after their guest scrunched her face.

"Youngji-sunbaenim personally asked for me," Della gestured towards the host. "Not Enhypen, ME. How can I turn down this great honour?"

"I wanted to invite Heeseung-nim," Youngji joked. "-but I couldn't, so.."

"There's no way. I'm very possessive of my members," Della gave Youngji a playful glare. "I'm kidding! I'm kidding! It would've been completely fine if they took my place," everyone laughed at how panicked she appeared.

"No, I was messing with you. I like this member the best, I really wanted you to come," Youngji rested her chin on her hands.

"Oh is that so?" Della mirrored her actions, responding with a flirty tone.

"I changed my mind," Youngji backed away while holding back a smile.

"Hm?" the younger raised her eyebrows with a smirk.

"Eat the ramyeon," Youngji turned her head away, attempting to hide her blush. "EAT THE RAMYEON!" her body turned in the same direction as her head. She rushed to pour herself another shot to down.

"Unnie- whyy?"

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"You know- you look prettier in real life," Youngji complimented.

"Ah thank you..." Della sounded a bit awkward.

"Why why? Why do you sound weird?" Della chuckled a bit.

"No no, thank you so much for the compliment but like- if someone says I look better in real life then people are more obligated to see me in person," Youngji let out an 'ahh.' "-and some fans are more fortunate to see me than others, right? So I just feel kinda bad."

"Ahh I see, I see. That's a very interesting way of putting it," Youngji nodded.

"Plus I make money off of looking good in front of the camera," the whole room laughed at her statement. "So if you wanna support me then there's nothing wrong with only consuming my content."

"Slay girl, slayy!"

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"Wait- you don't like to be called unnie, right?" Youngji recalled. "Maybe you don't have to call me unnie too."

"REALLY?!" Della sat up straight in her seat.

"But you call me Youngji-ssi," the older smirked.

"Eyy- unniee!"

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"Mm! Unnie-" Della realised. "You have a belly button piercing, right?"

"Uh that's right!" Youngji raised her top a little to show her guest better. "You have one too, no?"

"Mm mm, it's just a bit difficult to show it right now, you can search it up online," Della smiled sheepishly while touching her abdomen.

"Did it hurt? Mine was so painful.." Youngji mirrored her actions.

"For real. I have multiple ear piercings but navel was so painful," Della nodded.

"Do you plan on getting tattoos?" Youngji asked.

"I.. want to.." Della trailed off. "But it kinda scares me."

"Why? Why? It's not that painful."

"No 'cause it's truly permanent, right?" Youngji replied with an 'ahh.' "Yeah so I'm really hesitant."

"You with a tattoo would be crazy though," Youngji leaned back in her seat. "Really, REALLY."

"I'll probably do multiple temporary ones."

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"So you're the only girl in a group full of boys. You spend every single day with them- and even every second, right? Since you live in the same dorm" Youngji stated. "How do you manage? Tell me about it."

"Mm.. To be honest.." Della trailed off, taking a sip of her drink before continuing. "It's not as difficult as I thought it would be."

"Since I get my own room, whenever I want privacy, I can just shut the door," she elaborated. "Of course if you live together with ANYONE, things won't always go your way but I think that we're fairly understanding of each other."

"Did the company assign you that room?" Youngji asked.

"They gave me a choice on either sharing a dorm with a manager or have my own room."

"Ahh and you would rather improve your bond."

"Yes yes, the only big issue I can think about is how messy and at times how loud they are," she took another sip. "-and they also have a lot of stuff like they like to go shopping and it kinda fills up the place."

"What if you wanna date?" Youngji asked a small trick question.

"Why would I want to when I have my seven men?" Della's tipsy side was starting to show. The whole room cheered at her statement. "I got seven best friends always by my side! I don't need anyone else!"

"That's right! Oh! That's so fun!" Youngji covered her mouth. "What about them as members in general?"

"Honestly- I love being in Enhypen, so so much," Della's words were a bit slurred. "You know how I said I have to be more ladylike when the boys aren't here?" Youngji nodded. "I'm able to be more carefree by being in Enhypen. I'm the group's visual!" Youngji cut her off a little.

"Korea's siren!"

"Korea's siren! Do you think I would be able to act that casually if I debuted in a girl group?" Della got close to Youngji. "It's not like I can't be more elegant- I just choose not to."

"That's right because- as I watch you right now, I noticed that you have very proper etiquette. Like the way you eat, the way you sit and drink, everything," Youngji pointed out.

"I am 100% capable! My grandmother was very strict with these things!" Della exclaimed. "But I don't wanna be too ladylike with the members or I'll just look..." she lost her words. "Y'know what I mean?"

"Yeahh, I know I know. Or people would view you as a try-hard, right?" Della nodded at Youngji's help.

"People judge girls more harshly. Both in the industry and just in general," Della suddenly got serious. "Even though I am judged quite harshly- in my own eyes at least- I'm incredibly lucky to at least be a bit more carefree. I'm getting judged either way but I feel like... I don't have it as bad as other female idols."

"You actually do," Youngji looked at her with pity. "I've seen all the comments and all that, and none of them makes sense, seriously."

"Because I'm surrounded by men, I'm also evaluated through a man's standards," Della smiled softly. "No matter how well I dance, because I have boobs and feminine features, people will think that I'm not fit to be the group's dancer."

"That's right, that's right, and also-" Youngji cleared her throat a little. "They say stuff like 'she's just a visual' or 'she's just a dancer,'" Della hummed in agreement.

"People need to understand that I want to be an idol and I want to be in an idol group, this is my dream. If I really, REALLY wanted to stay as a dancer, I could," Della raised her eyebrows. "If I wanted to do solo, I could. If I wanted to be a model, I could. If I wanted to just be a rapper, I could. If I wanted to be in a girl group, I could," she started getting into a rhythm and rapped freestyle, making Youngji dance a little at her 'verse.'

"Ah I like it, I like it! Let's record after this shoot!"

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"Oh I've never been this tipsy!" Della giggled.

"You're not tipsy- just straight up drunk," Youngji corrected.

"I'm not drunk! Drunk is like Hoshi-sunbaenim!" the staff laughed at the mention.

"Why is Hoshi being mentioned in almost every episode?" a staff asked, making Della laugh deeply.

"This is our country's siren," Youngji pointed at Della with a silent laugh.

"No! But I'm really- REALLY not drunk. I'll show you! Sober.... now!" suddenly Della sat very politely again and took a bite of her food with elegance.

"So about your members-" Youngji knew exactly what would make her show her drunk side again, because she started giggling profusely. "I didn't even say anything!"

"My members are so sweet," Della covered the bottom half of her red face.

"Cute! So cute!" Youngji grinned. "Are you worried about dating rumours or stuff like that? Especially as a young group?"

"Nope! We just let people think what they wanna think because we know what's right or wrong anyway," Della answered really casually. "If you ship me with the members or with Lee Youngji, I don't care."

"WITH LEE YOUNGJI?!" Youngji stood up from her seat.

"Honey.. Don't be like this.." Della whined, also getting up to hold Youngji's hand.

"Della-ya.. Are we actually doing this?" Youngji gave in to the skit. "What about your fans?"

"Ah.. Then I'm sorry honey.. But Engenes come first-" Youngji immediately let go of Della's hands dramatically. "But you can share!"

"Share?! Me?! Share you with Engenes?! No no, you should share me!" Youngji protested.

"I would but what about my Engenes?"

"Actually darling.. I don't think this will work.." Youngji sighed. "You have seven brothers, SEVEN. How can we make this work?"

"Noo! They're not my brothers-"

"But still! SEVEN BOYS! I can't do this- we have to break up."

"It's not because you like any of them, right?" Della teased.

"NOO! STOP TRYING TO CREATE RUMOURS!" Youngji pushed Della. "I'm gonna do the same- I saw Della making out with Jay-nim-"

"WHAT IS THIS RUMOURR?!" Della whined, pushing Youngji lightly with a (fake) disgusted look on her face. "Everyone! Do not believe Lee Youngji! She had too much to drink-"

"AND DON'T BELIEVE IN KANG DELLA! SHE HAD WAY TO MUCH TO DRINK!" Youngji suddenly calmed down and grabbed Della's shoulders. "Della. Della-ssi. What are we doing? Ladylike- ladylike. We need to act like a lady."

"Oh yeah-"

"How did everything suddenly get so chaotic?" the staff couldn't stop laughing.

"Sorry, darling-ya," Youngji hugged Della. "I love you!"

"I love you, honey! I'm sorry too!"

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"Della-ya, darling," when Youngji saw Della start giggling at almost every single thing, she knew that it was time for her to go home. "I think it's time we end this."

"Ya! Honey! Why are we back to this?!" Della whined, taking a sip of her water. "Ah! This is the kinda drink I like! What's this one called?!"

"Della-ssi, that's water," Youngji and her staff laughed. "I mean it's time for you to go home!"

"Ahh is that so?" Della giggled. "That's why you're so tasty!" she talked to her glass.

"DELLA GO HOME!" Youngji exclaimed.

"Oh my God! What time is it?! I promised the hyuppas I'll get back drunk!" Della looked around in panic.

"You promised them what?" Youngji laughed at her.

"This is the tipsiest I've ever been! They wanna see me tipsy!" Della giggled excessively, getting up and straightening her clothes.

"You're drunk, Della-ya. Just straight up drunk-"

"Oh right, I was supposed to be a lady today.." Della paused for a few moments. "Everyone! I'm not usually like this! I'm usually very elegant! Today was an exception because I drank a lot!" she announced to the camera.

"Your fans are scoffing so hard right now."

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"Bye unnie! Bye unnies and oppas!" Della said enthusiastically. "Oh my God. No. Stay cool, Della. Stay cool," she let out a breathe. "Thank you for your hard work, Youngji-ssi. PD-nims thank you so much," she bowed deeply.

"Bye darling, say hi to the members for me," Youngji winked exaggeratedly to the camera.

"NOO! THEY'RE MINE!" Della whined with a pout.

"Ah yes yes, they're yours, they're yours," Youngji pat her shoulders. "Go home to them. Show them you're drunken state."

"I'M NOT D-"

"Yes yes yes, sorry sorry," Youngji directed a wonky Della towards the front door. "Manager-nim, please take care of her until she reaches her front door," she instructed Della's manager.

"Bye honey!" Della then mouthed a 'call me' while doing a telephone gesture. "Bye everyone!"

"Bye! Be safe!"

requested:

—della on youngji's show

taglist! @afiaaaa19 @riikiblr @one16core @toriluvsfics @i90snoo @danyxthirstae01 @seulgifted @clar-iii @hiqhkey @nichmeddar @jiwlys @duolingofanaccount @nvmbheart [@studioreader @sarang-wonie @fairydosii @hoonstrology @jaetint @4sahii @8-itsmee-8 ]

#kang della #8th member of enhypen #enhypen 8th member #enhypen ff #enhypen reactions #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x oc #enhypen added member #enhypen eigth member #enhypen female addition #enhypen female member #enhypen oc #kpop added member #kpop oc #enhypen female oc #enhypen imagines #enhypen poly fic #enhypen poly

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starwarsdinosaur · 16 days

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So how we feelin’ after these 2 episodes, folks?

Because I, for one, am unwell 😭

#the bad batch #tbb #star wars the bad batch #tbb hunter #star wars tbb #tbb crosshair #tbb wrecker #tbb omega

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thecapricunt1616 · 2 months

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The Bear & His Honey - Chapter 9

♡ Chapter Inspo: Lyrics; Awkward (SZA) “You look at me different, so I let you see my body - now we don't seem to get along, now I regret it all.” ♡♡》》𝟙𝟠+ 𝕆ℕ𝕃𝕐 𝔽𝕀ℂ! ℕ𝕆 𝕄𝕀ℕ𝕆ℝ𝕊 𝔸𝕃𝕃𝕆𝕎𝔼𝔻《《♡♡ ♡ Summary: Carm closes his day off w/ Winnie. Winnie, Syd, & Sadie shoot the shit, and disconnect Winnies mushy heart from her hook-up antics. Carm feels rejected by Winnie not knowing the whole story, and lands himself back in a support group (by choice). Sugar wins Big Sissy of the year award. ♡ W/C: 9,444 (angel #’s purr!) ♡ Posted Date: 02/23/24 ♡ A/N: Hayoooo! I hope y’all love this chap. - Next one will be long and juicy since its the 10th… hm.. Not feelin’ very wordy for some reason. Oh!! I saw the new ep. Of The Good Doctor- I MISSED MY SHAUN MURPHY!!!! I <3 MY GOOD DOCTOR!!! Anyhoot- ennjoooy this chap frayndss :D ♡ Warnings for BTC: MAJOR talks of Suicide, grief talk, sad / insecure Carm, swearing, smoking, drinking(cant remember so just in case?), mentions of chronic pain, think that’s all.

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡

➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ♡

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈

Winnie’s P.O.V. -

I came back to the bedroom, teeth freshly brushed and glasses on. “Ready for some Drag education?” I joke, getting our fluffy blankets from the foot of the bed and draping them over us. “Mm drag education. Sounds fun” he opened his arm so I could lay on his chest. I laid down comfortably and he chuckled a bit.

“What?” I asked and he curled his arm around me, gently rubbing my side. “Nothin’ just didn’t realize you wear glasses” he said and I look up at him with a small smile on my lips “mmhmm just another one of my faults, eyes that don’t work” I joke and he snorts, “you have no faults” he said brushing my bangs out of my eyes gently.

“Okay enough flirting, mister” I poked his nose and leaned over him, grabbing the remote from my nightstand and turning on the tv. I went to Paramount and typed in the title, scrolling to drag race season 15 “okay…so this is last season, a lot of the queens are from Connecticut, but you’ll get the gist of it- and learn all the phrases that Sadie and I use” I said and hit play on the first episode.

“Oh! Yeah that’s why my stomach hurts” I sit up and he scrunches his eyebrows “What?” He asks “forgot I was hungry. Watch! I’ll go make the rest of the pizza” I went out to the kitchen before he could reply, and preheat the oven putting the rest of our pizza from last night on a tray and popping it in, not bothering to wait for it to beep before coming back. “Okay so, I like the cute one, the little one” he points and I giggle, “Marcia Marcia Marcia?” I ask and he scrunches his eyebrows.

“See they have weird names” he said his eyes flicking back to the tv as Rupaul came out and he raised his eyebrows ``wow” he muttered “thought he was a drag queen?” He questioned. “Not in the workroom babe, just watch” I settled back into his chest and played with his fingers, finding it adorable how he was so engrossed in it. I watched along with him for the mini photoshoot challenge and he scoffs softly “see…I hate her makeup it looks- it looks weird.” He muttered and I giggled.

“See! I told you you’d love this show” I look up at him and he rolls his eyes “you tell no one at work we watched this, I’ll never hear the end” he said and I laugh, looking back at the screen “mm well…I guess another reason to behave yourself” I said smugly and he pinches my bum playfully. After a while I started to smell the pizza and sat up “be back, lovey” I said softly, shuffling off to the kitchen. I divided up the remaining 4 slices on my plastic strawberry shortcake plates and opened my fridge.

“Carm, do you want cherry coke?” I called “Sure” he replied. I grabbed 2 cans, a few pieces of paper towel, and our plates, before heading back to the bedroom. “Irene somethin’ won the challenge-thing” he sits up, leaning against the headboard. “Got 2,500 bucks just for that. Good money” he took the plate and I handed him the can of soda and I smiled a bit.

“Mmhmm, they win like 200,000 at the end” I said and his eyebrows raised “wow, hmm. High stakes then” he continues watching along with me as we eat our pizza. We were snuggled up, at the end of the third episode and he sighs softly, rubbing my side to get my attention. “Honey” he mumbled gently and I looked up at him.

“I gotta…Y'know '' he said with a slight frown and lifted his hand to motion to the door. “Got work in the mornin’..” he said and I pout a bit, “I know…I know” I sighed and sat up, “it was nice, y’know- spending time with you..” I said and pulled on my bear paw slippers as he slipped his hoodie over his head.

“It was really nice, Win, I’ll call you, yeah?” He comes over opens his arms for a hug. I nuzzle into his chest, closing my eyes. “Mmhmm, I’ll leave my ringer on for you” I said softly, breathing in the scent of his cologne, subconsciously trying to memorize it. “Y’gonna try and come down for lunch sometime this week? Mm? I can make y’somethin’” he said and kissed the top of my head sweetly. I smiled a bit, resting my chin on his chest as I looked up at him.

“Now that I have two friends there, I’ll be sure to stop by more often” I said softly, and puckered my lips for a kiss. He leans down, kissing my lips tenderly, lingering for a moment before pulling away. “I look forward to seein’ you more, then.” He said and rubbed my back gently before pulling away. I walked him to the door, handing him his backpack after he slipped on his sneakers and once he put it on I pulled him by the straps, kissing him passionately, running my fingers through his curls, and gently tugging.

He hummed into my mouth, his hands trailing beneath my shirt and squeezing my bum in his palms before stroking my thighs with the tips of his fingers gently as he leans against the wall in our heated make out. After a minute or two he pulls away, our lips only mere inches apart. “Baby, I gotta go, yeah?” He said softly and kissed my nose. I jetted out a pout with my bottom lip and looked at him up through my lashes. “Yeah” I mumbled, and pulled him into one last hug before opening the door.

“Be free” I shooed with my hand playfully and he chuckled. “Until next Saturday yeah? I’ll be waiting to see what happens to our bunny friend” he pecks my lips on the way out the door and I smiled. “Mmhmm, don’t work too hard this week” I said and he rolled his eyes jokingly. “Mm- ye’ I’ll try” he said and I shook my head with a grin, shutting the door. I leaned against it with my full weight, and sighed deeply when I knew he was well out of earshot, sliding to the floor pathetically in a heap, covering my face in my hands.

I need to process this.

I hastily got up off of the floor, padding heavily into my bedroom, and picking up my phone off the charger. It smells like him in here - and I’m unsure how I felt about it. I grabbed my bong and a lighter, as well as my little lavender tin of pre-ground flower, and went to sit out on the balcony outside my bedroom, FaceTiming Sadie. She answers by the end of the second ring.

“Biiiitch - ok wait, you didn’t call last night so before you start- Say hey Syddd! We’re wine drunkkk” She giggled, already gone- and turned her phone on it’s side, leaning it up against god only knows what so I could see them both together and I bit my lip, trying to appear happy. Shit.

I just wanted to air out everything to Sadie but of course she and Syd are hanging out- when she isn’t with me she was with her. This was going to be harder to navigate then I thought.

I stuffed my bowl full of flower with my fingers, “hey!” I said trying to sound enthusiastic and I lit it, taking a deep inhale.

“Dude did you fuck him I need all the details like - S-O-U Winnie!!!” Sydney said and I nearly choked out a lung laughing, completely not expecting her to be so open about me being with him knowing how she’d ranted about her frustrations about him before. Sadie busts out laughing and I try to catch my breath, drool pooling in my mouth. I dashed inside, grabbing my water bottle and taking a few big chugs before returning.

“Sydney” I said once I caught my breath and looked at her, we all went silent for a few short moments, and before I knew it we were all giggling together again over nothing. “Stop! Stop stoppp we need details Winnie!” Sadie said when she caught her breath and I shook my head, unsure where to even start. “Well…Syd do you still want to fuck him?” I ask and she snorts loudly. “No absolutely not. Not anymore. I just stand that asshole at this point.” She rolled her eyes, taking another sip of her wine.

“How do you mean?” I asked, lighting my bowl again to take a proper hit. She shakes her head, playing with the end of one of her braids. “Dude, Where do I even start?” she sighed deeply, thinking for a moment. “Okay, well let’s start with the fact that he’s so fucking selfish. Winnie- the only thing, and you’ll learn this sooo fast- the only thing he cares about, is easing his own fucking- his inadequacy!!” She said, talking with her hands as she usually did when she got passionate, just like Sadie and I.

“Expand” I said after I exhaled, crossing my legs and Sadie took a big gulp of her wine, knowing she was about to listen to the following complaints for the third or fourth time over now. “Well, firstly, for starters- I’ll tell you the real reason he fucked around with that girl Claire. Because it’s what Mikey would’ve wanted him to do. Same reason he opened the new restaurant. Because he only cares about proving to himself that his brother would be proud of him. But- but he doesn’t even want to be happy! When that is really what Mikey would have wanted, I mean- right?” She asked and I swallowed thickly, nodding a bit.

“N-no. No you’re right and - yeah that’s his biggest issue so far” I said and she laughed, covering her mouth. “Sorry sorry it’s not funny it’s just…wow he hasn’t even behaved himself? Hid it? Like…” she took a deep breath to steady herself. “Winnie- I love you. You know tha, right, really. ” she said, I nodded quickly, my chest tightening. “He’s not a person to get involved with. Even for the dick. Even if it’s good which- I can’t say I haven’t thought about it - but you’re a sweet person Winnie. And as much as you want to think he deserves you - despite him being a little bitch. he does not deserve someone like you - period. Because he will forever push you away. We know how you are, and we know better than you know how he is. So, this will be my one and only warning about him - do not get involved.” She said and I bit my lip, nodding quickly.

Don’t get involved further, Syd wouldn’t lie just because she wanted him for herself. She really, truly loves me, she’s one of my best friends.

I stare off into the distance, that thought bouncing around in my thoughts and the entirety of the day suddenly feeling…wrong. “Ok so now that we got that out of the way- how was it. Like is it big? Also how…like good is he?” she asked and I sat back, sighing softly. “That was another…downfall…even though it’s not even really a downfall!” I shake my hands for emphasis. “It’s literally- he’s so good like…well- he’s not pussy eating champion 2024 but” I said, earning a giggle out of them.

“I was riding his face while we were 69 so it wasn’t like bound to be the best for me - but anyway he is huge! Like not long, but thick” I said, lighting my bowl and taking another hit. “Cut or uncut?” Sadie asked, causing me to snort, smoke coming out of my nose and I coughed a bit. “Guys - Italian Catholic? Cut” I said matter-of-factly and Syd laughed. “Okay but - please don’t tell me he has all that rage and doesn’t take it out in the bed?” She questioned and I shook my head.

“He's actually like…shy? Even in bed! But he’s so hot you’ve seen him shirtless, right Syd?” I asked and she nods “oh- yeah. Of course. So…what like virgin shy?” She asked and I bit my lip slightly as I thought. “Kinda but like- he’s done it - but it’s been once or twice and that’s it like he got all his bases covered, practiced everything a few times - and that’s it, but when he commits he commits and he listens oh my goddd!” I close my eyes thinking about it and Sadie laughed.

“At least he knows how to follow directions in bed if anywhere good” Sydney said while taking a sip of wine and I laughed. “Ohhh my god! Oh my god. He’s like- low key a sub but I’d neverrr tell him because he’d never let me touch him again, I know it.” I went inside, closing the balcony door and setting my bong on my dresser before sitting on my bed. “Well yeah but I mean- wow” Syd blinks in surprise, taking in what I’d said. “Wow.” She hummed in thought and I laughed.

“What?” I asked “well- I mean like I said multiple times he’s an asshole at work, so with how brute and bossy he is, I like assumed he’d be like ‘get on your knees slut’ kinda guy? That was my fantasy anyways“ she mocked Carmen and I burst out laughing, “oh my god I wish” I said gasping in laughter. This is exactly what I needed. I needed to rip the bandaid off, because I knew Carmen wasn’t going to keep his promise, how he acted before we took a nap solidified it. He hates being with someone more than once.

“I wish. I had to beg him practically to tell me that he liked what I was doing. Like, isn't praise the first thing in porn?” I roll my eyes, petting Persephone as she jumps up. “Wait- wait- you had to tell Carmen Berzatto how to do something” she laughed, her head falling back. “Dude- oh my god! You are my saving grace. I am so glad I never slept with him. I'd have been so disappointed!” she said and I snorted. “That’s what I was gonna tell Sadie when I called actually… I mean- like I said he follows directions sooo well, but I wanted him to throw me around a little and he didn’t” I shrugged, picking at my nails.

“So if he asks, will you see him again?” She asked and I nibbled the inside of my lip nervously. “We had like…. We cuddled and stuff I’m never-“ swallowed thickly, my heart beginning to ache- remembering how attached I’d really felt to the day we’d had together, underneath all the anger I was feeling that he was so emotionally guarded. “I’m not doing that again- ever with him. But he has a really nice dick- we fucked in the shower?” I laughed and Sadie and Syd burst out laughing again.

“And ohh my god. The most dominant thing he did was like spank me- I don’t know what came over him! I was like oop!” I giggled and Sadie snorted, Syd leaning over the table in laughter. “Sooo he made you finish?!” Sadie asks and I nod “oh yeah- I mean. Like I said. He listens really well he just needs to be told what to do.” I said. “So he fucks like a puppy?” Syd teased and I rolled my eyes, laughing a bit. “In a way. But it’s like- he can learn. That’s why I’m kinda like…” I sighed softly, looking away.

“I dunno..I dunno” I shook my head and sighed a bit. “The Carmen Berzatto effect, welcome.” Syd said sarcastically and I rolled my eyes. “But he- he’s…so sweet” I sighed, playing with the ends of my hair. “And…like- I dunno. I’m slipping back into my old ways. I want to fix him” I rolled my eyes at the realization and rubbed my face.

“Wooooow!” Sadie drawls “holy shit! Well maybe you aren’t slipping because I’ve never heard you come to that realization before you run yourself to the bone for someone who can’t be fixed.” Sadie said and I sighed deeply, knowing deep down she was right. “What if he does the work?” I asked hopefully, “he won’t. He like- I dunno I don’t wanna say he hates himself, but he hates himself. Like any sense of good in life he crushes it for himself because he thinks he works better if he has nothing and he’s always chasing something.” Syd said and shrugged, her voice even and calm.

It was about an hour and a half of me divulging nearly every detail of the night to them other than the intimate details of Carmen telling me how many people he’d had sex with before we were all talked out.

I swallow thickly. “I’m just- I’m gonna shower guys. I love you Syd, thanks for not being mad at me. And…I’m- I’m sorry. I’m sorry for doing that.” I said honestly and she shakes her head.

“Honestly, he may be happy this week cause he got his dick wet for once- so he might not be such a terror at work. Just…sleep it off. It was once, Winnie, but I promise- If you let yourself get involved further, he is going to hurt you. We didn’t even get anywhere and when he cut me off cold emotionally after Claire? I felt like a fucking nutcase. It’s for your own good, just - forget him, okay?” She said and I nodded softly.

“Love you” I replied before hanging up

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

Carmy’s P.O.V. -

After my night with Winnie, I slept peacefully- the first night. I had a nightmare, and I only threw up once opposed to the 2 or 3 times a night it usually occurred. But by around 8 am when everyone started showing up, all of the questions were making me anxious, and it was generally pissing me off that Richie, Tina, Fak, Sugar, it felt like everyone except for Syd was up my ass.

I stood at one of the stations, chopping up onions and garlic for a stew that Tina was working on, doing absolutely everything in my power to not think of her. This was why. This. The fact that her face was the first thing I thought of when I got up. The fact that every fleeting thought is somehow weaving back to her. I could not do that again. Just the simple fact that I was sleeping better after seeing her once gave me unending anxiety.

If I keep fuckin’ around with her, Shes gonna leave. Or she’s gonna be taken. Or she's gonna realize I'm not good enough. Or she’s gonna find someone better.

I dropped the knife on the cutting board with a slam. “Goin to smoke.” I mutter to Syd as I pass by and shut the back door a little harder than I meant to. I leaned against the cool brick, trying to catch my breath. I felt over my pockets, finding my cigarettes, but - my fucking light. “Fuck!” I mutter to myself, rubbing over my face roughly.

This is exactly how it fucking started with her. Me losing my damn lighter.

I shook my head, squeezing my eyes shut and shaking my hand, trying to ground myself.

You fucking pussy. Get it together. You hooked up once you are not attached. You aren’t fucking attached.

I tug at my hair, remembering the feeling of her beneath me, the softness of her sheets, that fucking mug. I leaned against the brick wall, taking a deep breath. I took out my phone, cursing myself for a small part of me hoping she’d texted me, since I was too pussy to say anything to her last night or this morning. I stared at my text messages, my eyes falling on my conversation with sugar.

She’d sent me some “anonymous group therapy” shit about anxiety and she told me she thought it could help me. I'd brushed it off until now, but talking this shit out like I did with Mikey to people who weren’t allowed to repeat it- it sounded like it would feel good. I clicked on the lick, licking my lips nervously as it opened and took me to the page.

Anxiety/PTSD ANON: Monday evenings at 6:00PM-9:00PM at St. Anthony’s Presbyterian Church.

I furrowed my eyebrows a bit, PTSD. I hated when people would tell me I have PTSD. It’s so stupid- I’d never been to fuckin’ war. Or been raped or whatever. Being yelled at for being an idiot doesn’t constitute PTSD. But, considering people with PTSD are probably going through real shit, I’m sure it would feel easier to spill my guts to them then someone perfect like Winnie.

I sit up off the wall, heading back inside and I look at Syd “yo- c’mere” I nod to the office and she follows, I shut the door. “Goin, on with you?” I asked, putting my hands on my hips. She raises her eyebrows, “nothing? Why…” she questions and I narrowed my eyes slightly. “You’ve avoided me today. So again what’s up.” I asked and she shook her head, rolling her eyes slightly.

“I don’t have time for this, Chef,” she said and sighed a bit. “You know what I’m talking about. You were on my ass Friday about me wanting to get out early and you were dying to know why- and you come in on Monday it just skips your mind?” I shrug, crossing my arms.

“Look” she snips, taking her hand off the doorknob. “I don’t know what you think is going on, Chef. But I’ll have you know- I’ve had zero interest in your personal life again, until you started sneaking around here with one of my closest friends- and my cousins, who’s more like my sister- her best friend. So let’s just say, after the conversation she and I had-“ she looks at me pointedly.

“An honest, open, friend to friend, girl to girl conversation, Carmen- you will have nothing to worry about me, and my interest in your “personal” life - anymore.” She said and left the office with a slam. I felt my heart sink to my stomach, fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuuck. Fuck.

I could hear a ringing in my ears and my vision blurred slightly. I get the familiar feeling in my chest and sit down, clutching my head in my hands and spiraling into one of my episodes.

My “personal” life. Ouch. I knew after what happened with Claire things had been…different between us- but I didn’t think she cared. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I tug on my hair, my eyes screwed shut and breathing labored as my thoughts continue racing.

Fuck. What did - did she tell her? Did she tell them about- oh my god I’m such a fucking moron. Of course she did. Of course. That’s- Winnie’s best friend- oh my god why did I trust her. Fuck. And - and she thinks I’m gonna fucking hurt her. She knows I would hurt her.

“Sour things give you something to focus on”

Her voice rings throughout my mind. I took a shaking breath, opening my office drawer and grabbed one of the sour warhead things I’d gotten on the walk home after that night with Winnie, and popped it in my mouth. I cringe at the sensation, but immediately am pulled back, for now.

I spit the candy in the garbage can after a few grueling moments to be sure I got the full effect, before pulling my phone out of my pocket. Before I knew it with shaking hands, I was calling Winnie. After just 3 short rings the phone clicks and I sit up a bit

Please leave a message after the tone for - Heyy it’s Winnie, I can’t talk right now, if you wanna leave me a message cool- but I’m better at texts. Ciao! *beep*

I took the phone away from my ear, quickly hanging up. At the sound of her voice I felt like I could breathe again. I bit my lip gently, considering texting her and telling her to call me back- but she would if she wanted. I shook my head, setting an alarm for 5 to remind myself to leave for that group thing, before locking my phone and heading back into the kitchen.

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

Winnie’s P.O.V . -

I went to the back around 5, finally finished cleaning up after a story hour today. It was Sadie’s day off and Mel was out sick so I was running the store alone, I barely got a break to take a piss let alone have a quiet thought to myself from the moment I got here.

I sighed deeply, rubbing my bad hip that was driving me nuts today. The only thought that had been running through my head was how much I wanted to see Carmen. I was kind of grateful that the store had been so busy today because if it had been dead slow I’d probably have just locked up and gone to find if he was out for a smoke every few hours hoping I’d get lucky.

It took me a while to finish cleaning up after the littles, and vacuum the whole floor considering the aching pain in my hip that was reverberating through my thigh and knee all the way up to my ribs. By the time I was squatted by the vacuum, in the back of the store, rolling up the cord it finally gave out on me and I collapsed to the floor in a heap, my head landing in my purse under the desk. How convenient.

“Fuckin shit” I muttered to myself, knowing it would be at least 20 minutes before I would be able to use it again. I huffed, sitting up and banging my head under the desk in the process and groaning “ow” I whined, rubbing my head and leaning on my hip that wasn’t throbbing intensely. After a minute or so I dug through my purse, pulling my phone out. I scroll through the notifications from the day, Tik Toks from Sadie, news reports, a few texting ads when I see it towards the middle of the stack.

Carm🧸 1 missed call

I swallowed thickly - why was he calling me in the middle of the day? I checked our conversation to see the last text that was sent was still from when I’d told him my apartment number. I bit my lip gently, going over to Twitter to try and forget about him. I scroll through different posts, liking some of them, until my hip finally feels well enough again to try and stand.

I slowly shifted my weight on to my good side, gently lifting my hip and letting out a small cry at the shooting pain as I pulled my knee up to get my foot in a standing position. “God fucking damn it” I cried out in pain as I haul myself standing, my arms shaking in pain as I lower myself as gently as I could in to the desk chair. I took a heaving breath, wiping away the tears from the corners of my eyes and swallowing thickly. I was absolutely not going to make it 2 blocks on this hip tonight.

It had to have been all the exertion of the shower with Carmen, mixed with not sitting down only for 30 minutes today while I read to the kids. I rubbed my forehead in frustration, opening up the Uber app and seeing since it was ‘peak pricing’ it was gonna cost me $40 to get from the store home, and I do not have that kind of money.

I groaned, sitting back and thinking to myself if trying to wait it out would just get me in a worse position of being stuck here all night because Sadie has no car or not eating dinner for the rest of the week, since my groceries were dwindling and I didn’t get paid until Friday. I huffed, “no, I can fucking make it” I muttered, I pull myself up, nearly screaming at the pain screaming at me to stop, and yank my jacket over my arms.

With shaking hands, I got my keys out of my purse, flicking lights off as I limped, every step feeling like my leg was about to fall out like a Barbie that had never been properly popped into place. I groan quietly in pain every few steps, barely being able to lock the door from how violently my hands were moving. I looked both ways across the street, knowing it wasn’t long before a car came along. I try to take as big of strides I could into the alley.

I honestly didn’t give a fuck if I ran in to Carmen right now, I was not walking an extra three blocks in my condition just to avoid him. I lean against the wall, feeling that familiar shaking in my bad hip like it was telling me it was counting down before it gave way and barely got to the steps outside of the bear's kitchen door before collapsing with a grunt, the pain vibrating through my spine at the fall.

“Fuck” I whine, stretching my leg out in front of me. The faucet behind my eyes gives and my eyes are suddenly blurring with tears and I’m muffling sobs into my hand. The pain, the day I’ve had, and the worst of it- I’m stuck in the one place I don’t want to be. What kind of stupid desperate bitch will I look like if Carmen comes out to see me crying on the fucking steps of his restaurant.

I swallowed hard, doing my best to pull myself to my feet but my hip had locked and it was no use. With shaking hands I take out my phone, and the door creaks open behind me. I quickly dry my tears as best I can “uh- I'm not here to see you I- I’m going home I’m sorry” I mutter.

“Winnie the Pooh?” A slightly familiar voice said and I looked up to see Sugar standing there, a confused look on her face and I started to laugh to which she started looking concerned. “Oh!” I sniffle. “It’s you. Don’t tell Carmen I’m h-here” I hiccuped a sob and she furrowed her eyebrows, “no he's- wait” he shuts the door and sits next to me.

“Why you cryin’?” She asked gently and I shook my head “oh my god it’s- I-“ I wiped my tears again. “My hip…I got in an accident when I was 19 and had to get my hip fused, and they did it wrong so it’s all fucked and it just..hurts” I said and sniffled. “Okay why- why don’t you want Carm to know that?” She asked “did he already fuck up?” She said with a teasing smile and nudged me playfully.

“No- no he. Carm is…” I look at my feet. “Carm is wonderful. But he- he doesn’t want…what I would want, you know?” I look at her, still a bit teary eyed. She nods a bit “Y’know…Carm…somethin’ ‘bout that kid, he doesn’t allow a lot a’ good things…and” she rubs her hands together in thought, looking down for a moment.

“I think you’re right, but it’s what he needs.” She said and looked back at me finally. “I won’t…get in the middle of this. But- just know, Carm could really use a girl like you around. He left early today…he told me he was feeling like it was too much and he needed to go think about shit. He’s never done that. That tells me you are getting to him to take care of himself. So if it’s a Carmen thing, pushing you away? Sometimes with that kid you have to force him to see what he’s missin” she got up and extended a hand to me.

“What’re you doing?” I asked “cmon. Takin you home. Can’t live too far if you’re walkin’, right?” She asked and I smiled a bit. “You seem like a really good sister” I said softly and she smiled big. “Y’know. I always wished I had a sister, I don’t think either of my brothers have ever told me that'' she said, tucking her large purse into the crook of her arm. I crinkle my brows ``ok..well Carm and I will be talking about appreciating you because you give great advice” I grab on to her hand.

She giggled a bit as she hoisted me up and I quickly balanced myself on the railing, my hip still barely functional. “Woah!” She said, wrapping her arms around my waist tightly. “The car is right there parked in front- think you can walk?” She asked, concerned. I nodded quickly “yeah- yeah. I might need to like…lean on you” I said, my cheeks going pink with embarrassment.

“Course! C’mere chicky” she wraps her arm around my waist and I smiled a bit to myself as she helped me limp to her car. “You hug like Carmen” I said softly as we approached the passenger side and she laughed, “don’t tell him that. He’s always said I’m too ‘touchy’ since we were kids” she pulled open the door and I slowly got in, the pain in my hip dulling significantly when I sat on the plush seats of her SUV.

She gently pushed the door closed, coming to the drivers side and hoisting herself into the large vehicle. “Trust me- I totally get it. I have 2 kids, my hips or my bladder haven’t been the same since” she said jokingly as she started the car.

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

Carmy’s P.O.V -

I tried to take a deep breath, staring pointedly at the church in front of me. My dark gray knit sweater was suddenly feeling itchy all over my exposed skin, even though my usual white work shirt was still layered underneath. I pulled at the collar of the offending garment, roughly itching my collarbone at the sensation of a tickle just under my chain. Taking a final drag of my third cigarette just standing there, I throw it to the ground, crushing it with my sneaker.

You can turn around- you can just get back in your car, and go home. You don’t have to do this.

The devilish voice bounces around in my head. I’m unsure what got me to drive here, what got me out of my car after sitting there for 15 fuckin’ minutes, but suddenly I was planting my feet up each step into the grand wooden entrance of the church.

Turn around. Turn around. Turn. around.

My entire body screams for me to run as I step into the welcome hall. This confidence to change so suddenly has to be the effect of a mostly-full nights sleep- thanks to Winnie of course.

Stop fucking thinking about her.

I’m met with a folding easel, a plain piece of white printer paper with an arrow that points to the left, reading ‘PTSD/ANXIETY ANON’ in large bold letters. I swallowed hard, staring at it intently.

Leave. Leave. Leave!!!!

The voice in my head was so loud that in my rested state, it drove me to push against it. To deprive it. I headed down the hall, the only sound being my sneakers tapping the tile floor and the loud fluorescent lights buzzing above me. My eyes fixed on a bolded sign at the large honey-stained wooden door just at the end of the hall, taped to the wooden frame. “ANXIETY ANONYMOUS” typed in bold letters on the same 8x11 printer paper and taped to the easel out front.

I took a deep breath, blinking my eyes shut hard out of habit, thinking about what I was about to do- before swallowing back the anxiety and my hand felt the icy touch of the handle, pulling down and pushing it open. I met the faces of about 4 other tortured souls, staring blankly back at me. “Uh” I mutter, standing in the doorway feeling like a total idiot.

“I-is this th-the.” I bit my cheek fucking word stumbling moron. “The fuckin’ anxiety anon meeting?” I spit out, trying my best to swallow the nausea rising in my throat from the crippling fear of meeting new people. A woman with a short bleach blonde bob, sitting in the corner at a large desk looks up.

“Oh!! Joy. A newbie!” She chirps, standing up and walking over, standing a few feet away. “I’m Claire” she said happily, and the protein bar I scarfed down my throat earlier begged to make a grand

reappearance.

“C-cl-?” I tried to grate out, swallowing thickly and my cheeks feeling so hot I was sure I could light one of my cigarettes on them.

Run. Run, RUN - Carmen!!! Find the fuckin’ bathroom, slink out like it never happened. Bad idea. Bad idea. Horrible idea.. Moron. Idiot. Stupid. Useless.

“Claire!” She repeats happily. “Are you alright with handshakes, dear? What's your name honey?” She sticks her right hand out to me confidently. My gaze meets her hand, and I swear my vision went blurry. I stumble back a bit. “Ba- bathroom” I muttered quickly, the feeling of vomit creeping up in my throat.

She gently pushes me into the hallway, grabbing the small trash can with her right hand and shutting the door behind her tightly. I ripped the trash pale out of her hands quickly, hurling my protein bar and whatever bile and water my stomach held for the last 6 hours In to it, squatting pathetically in the hallway against the wall and she stepped a bit closer, charm bracelets jingling as she rubbed my back while I wretch so hard I swore for a second my organs would fly out of my mouth.

“Christ kid” she muttered, her nails gently grazing the small of my back as she rubbed soothing, small circles. “Know a Claire, mm?” She asked matter-of-factly when I finally stopped heaving, my brain fully empty other then fuckin Winnie reading to me last night. And the story of the stupid fucking bunny.

“Yes- b-b-sh-she“ I tried to get air into my lungs, but instead my chest forced me into a painful gasp. “N-no- used to…” I dry heaved over the garbage can so hard I dropped to my knees on the cold tile, and was sure I'd either pass out, or die of embarrassment at the pathetic sound and sight, feeling fully like a sniveling child. Unfortunately to no avail.. I gasped in a breath so violently, the sudden pressure in my lungs made me feel as if I was really about to pass out.

I leaned against the cold wall, catching my breath before continuing. “I- I- fuckin” I winced at the pain in my stomach, my face clenching up slightly at the pang reverberating through every muscle in my body due to the intensity of all the emotions I was feeling at once.

“Fuckin... I crushed on ‘er as a stupid, idiot kid..but fuckin hate ‘er now..“ I sniffle, mucus getting caught in my throat, causing me to choke and cough so hard over the trash can that my lungs burned.

“Breathe, kid” she said, patting my back. “In through your nose and out through your mouth” she said and demonstrated a calm even breath. I rested my face on my arm, doing as she said, and finally catching my breath. “S-sorry I haven’t eaten much t’day and smoked like half a pack” I said and she nudged me gently. I look over and she’s holding a tissue, “thanks” I said wiping my mouth and nose tossing it in the garbage and leaning against the wall again, sighing deeply.

“C'mon, you can just listen today if you don’t feel like talking. We have water bottles in there for ya’ “ she said, standing up fully and extending a hand to me. I nodded a bit, taking her hand to steady myself as I got up. She took the trashcan and tied the bag, leaving it in the hall before opening the door. “I’m..sorry” I mutter, shaking my head.

“No! No happens all the time. Don’t worry” she said and opened the door. “Well gang, it’s us plus one newbie!” She said and handed me water from the counter at the side of the room before going to her seat and I swallowed thickly, sitting down on the furthest chair from everyone else, setting the water bottle on the chair before wiping my clammy hands over my jeans and swallowing thickly. “Alright” she said, sitting down with a clipboard. “Are there any big things this week that we need to start with?” She asked, I kept my gaze fixed on my lap.

“Yes- uh…my nightmares came back..” a small voice said and I looked up to see a girl with mousy brown hair and a deep scar on her right cheek. Claire nodded “did you want to share about them?” She asked her and the girl swallowed thickly. “No- no. I just… it’s about dating again after what happened. I can’t- I can’t. I’m always looking over my shoulder, I feel like a freak. It’s hard enough dating girls- and I- I have a hard time texting. And so when I meet them in person, I always catch them staring at me. And… and like I can hear their thoughts. Like ‘who is she hiding from’ or ‘I bet she has a secret girlfriend.’ And I - I’m so paranoid.” she huffed.

“I’m sure all of us here have felt paranoid after a trauma, and especially, when experiencing something new, the feeling of…waiting for the other shoe to drop. Is very common. Especially if it relates back to childhood, those wounds linger for a long time. Has anyone else been feeling paranoid?” She asked the group. There was a silence for a moment, I took a deep breath, finding my tongue.

“Me” I said, rubbing my thighs to soothe my anxiety. There was that familiar tightness in my stomach and my heart was thrumming in my throat. “Oh! Did you want to share more about that…sorry, how should we address you?” She asked and I kept my eyes locked on her, trying to forget there were other people there but still not wanting to sit alone with a shrink in an office.

“Carmen'' I said and she nodded, “okay, Carmen- did you want to share what you’re feeling paranoid about?” She asked and I sniffled, rubbing my lips together nervously. “Ye’ uh, I met a-a girl. Last week. And I haven’t stopped…thinkin’ about her? Like. I dunno. I have sworn off women quite a while ago.” I rub my chin, eyes gazing to the floor nervously.

“Okay, so what are you paranoid about?” She asked and my eyes flicker back to her. “So uh- yeah. S-sorry. Sorry. So uh- I work in a-a restaurant. And I run it, with my cousin and my sister. My second in command though, she- she knows this girl. And uh…I don’t know what’s been goin on? With me? And I…I like her. That’s-that’s why I’m paranoid. Cause I don’t…I can’t do girls and she-“ I sigh deeply, clearing my throat.

“She told me that she wouldn’t pressure me?” My eyes met hers again and she nodded. “Okay, so you’ve felt pressured in relationships in your past, and are worried it will happen again?” She asked and I thought for a moment, rubbing the back of my neck.

“Yes? Well…no..no not from her. I-I’ve been very pressured to like someone before and it was hell for me. B-but…that’s the thing is I trust she won’t pressure me. And I- when I’m around her, I’m not fuckin- im not fuckin like this? Like I- I can think, and I can breathe and…so-so-so if it’s not” I shake my head. “I feel so different around her? That’s why I’m paranoid.” I said finally. Claire sits back in her chair a bit.

“Okay, so you’re paranoid she’s going to leave?” She questioned. I shook my head a bit, “no- no that’s the thing is that the shoe always drops for me, I already fucked this up by just being me. My- one of my chefs, Syd. She- she’s friends with this girl and…and I think she told her about all my…fucked upness. She-she warned her that im a fuckin’- a fuckin loser. I just- and I didn’t even want to allow myself to feel this way which is why I’m so scared cause I- I feel like- like.” I shake my head.

“I feel like she’s good for me though. I-i just know I’m bad. I’m- I’m fuckin selfish. I would be a horrible boyfriend. I’m fucking insane I- I think. I wake up every night fucking throwing up. I- I obsess over things, and I just keep pushing and pushing until I get it how- how I see it in my head. B-but with her it’s like…I want to see? Where things go? Y’know? L-like I. I want her to show me…it’s- it’s stupid never mind” I shook my head looking back at my lap, pushing my bangs off my forehead nervously.

“Well in here, no one is crazy. I think you’re paranoid of having no control over your emotions, Carmen. Which is perfectly normal. We can’t control anything in this world, other than how we react to our feelings about things. So, let’s delve deeper into your current self image- what comes to mind first when I ask why you’re selfish?” She asked and I shrugged a bit.

“I fuckin’ shut the beef down, knowing it’s not what Syd wanted, knowing it’s not really what anyone wanted except for me. Because…cause Mikey left it to me. And- and I was like…I am fuckin’ angry at Mikey. And it was like- like a fuck you. Watch me do it better then you ever fuckin could” I said and run another hand through my hair at the realization. “Cause I fuckin’ - I only care about provin’ to myself that - that maybe I’m not a fuckin idiot. That I’m not useless.”

“You aren’t an idiot, and you are not useless, and it sounds like you feel selfish- because you’ve found yourself in a pattern of catering to others desires. How do you feel about your own desires, Carmen?” She asked and I shook my head a bit.

“No- no that’s..that’s what I’m saying I’m selfish. I - I’m a fuckin control freak at work everything is done my way, everything is tweaked to my standards, I don’t care what other people have to say about the re-“

She cuts me off “no- not your desires at work, in your life. Outside of work. In your relationships, friendships, personal goals? What do you desire your life to look like when you retire?” She asked and I swallowed thickly, my mind going blank.

“That is a great topic for today, desires. It is extremely hard, especially after a traumatic event or even years of incurring trauma, and then allowing yourself to desire. We may feel selfish as Carmen does, after we incur tragedy in our lives- to feel joy again, or allow new people in our lives because we are afraid that if we desire while we are unhealed, then we were never really damaged to begin with.” She said and a guy sitting a few chairs away from her clears his throat.

“I uh- yeah I relate a lot to what Carmen said about feeling selfish..after my brother died I stopped doing…everything I loved.” I look over at him, sitting up in my chair slightly. Cause I felt like if…if I’m happy then I don’t miss him? Or..or like. Like if I think about our good times together and loose the anger I feel about him killing himself for a few seconds- I feel like…like I’ll never stop thinking about what the fuck our lives would have been like if he just talked to me.” He said and crossed his arms. I sit up a little further in my seat.

“Mikey - he was m-my brother. He killed himself too” I said and he looked over at me, “I’m sorry…older or younger?” He asked “shit- yeah sorry I should have led with that I’m sorry too. He was- he was older…” I replied and he nodded, swallowing thickly and looking away.

“You couldn’tve done anything. I fuckin failed him though. He was younger” he muttered and I furrowed my brow shaking my head. “Nah. Nah don’t fuckin’ say that shit about yourself dude. Both of our brothers did it to themselves. That's one thing that we’re not responsible for. I’m- I’m angry that he- I needed him. Just like you needed your brother” I said and he nodded a bit.

Claire cuts in “it is normal to feel angry at a loved one for committing suicide. It’s also completely normal to feel guilt for that anger. Jack, it sounds like the anger you’re harboring for yourself, for not ‘protecting’ your brother from himself- is covering up a guilt you feel for a perceived responsibility to the reasoning behind your brother's passing.”

“I’m fuckin angry.” I shrug. “I’m fuckin- pissed at Mikey.” I said and she looked at me. “A question for you to ask yourself, Carmen, are you angry at Mikey or are you angry about the choice he made, to end his life, and leave you behind to forever miss him. Because they are 2 separate things. One is your brother, and the other- is a stupid choice he made. A choice that altered the lives of the people closest to him forever. He made the choice to have his legacy be one that ended in pain, and suffering for those who love him most. That choice, or Mikey - your brother that you clearly love very, very dearly.” She asked.

I felt a lump forming in my throat, blinking back tears and I looked over to the clock.

“Let’s circle back, yeah we have about 5 minutes left. This week's homework for you all, I want you to do one thing, or speak to one person” she looks to me for a moment “that you desire, and it’s guilt free, because you aren’t giving yourself the permission, I’m giving you the permission, and next week- we’re gonna talk about how it made us feel alright?” She said,

“Alright. Hopefully I’ll see you all again next week. Same time and place per usual” she got up and went over to the desk grabbing her bag. I got up, grabbing the water bottle and quickly darting out of the room and back down the hall to the front door. I shoved it open taking a deep breath as I went down the steps 2 at a time back to the parking lot.

I am not fucking going back there ever again.

I shook my head to myself, but realized that I didn’t feel…like I was gonna have an episode. Er- panic attack like Winnie called it. But rather than everything I’d buried about Mikey felt like a hardened scab to a barely healed wound had been picked at and messed with for a while. It was an extremely uncomfortable feeling. This is why I stopped going to AI-anon. Talking about it hurts more than just focusing on other shit and forgetting about it when I can.

I dug my cigarettes out of my pocket, taking one out and lighting it, leaning against the car as I smoked. I don’t know why Sugar keeps telling me that it’ll get better if I just talk about it, every time I talk about it I’m fuckin realizing shit. And I don’t like realizing shit. About myself. About Mikey. I’d rather just…fucking work. Just work. But I also hate work.

I’m brought out of my thoughts to the same blonde that irritated the scab which felt permanently fused to my soul. “Spirits huh?” She said and I looked over at her. “Yup” I mutter, taking another drag.

“I get it. I get it… if you don’t want to talk to me outside there it’s fine. I just wanted to say, I’m proud of you for opening up, good job. You should be proud of yourself.” She took a pack of Marlboro reds out of her purse and a blue lighter.

“Thanks…” I said, watching as she took a drag. “No offense… but I kinda feel worse?” I said and she laughed, smoke spilling from her mouth in a cloud. “None taken my friend, none taken.” She said, waving her hand in front of her to clear the thick puff of smoke. “That’s good actually, really good. It hurts before it helps” she shrugged, taking another drag.

“So- wait the fuck did I do t’you?! You wanna hurt me before you help me?” I questioned, pulling on my own cigarette. “Nothing oh my god!” She laughs. “Nothing Carmen! Oh jeez” she giggled slightly. “You need to come back, shut out the voice shooing you away” she said with a teasing smile and I rolled my eyes. “Sorry, not interested in ripping open old wounds when I’m already not able to process the bullshit I’m facing now.” I look at the ground, taking a long drag.

“Mmm. Alright.” She shrugged casually, dragging her own and exhaling without a beat. “ what?” I asked her, dropping my cig and crushing it with my sneaker. “I…don’t care?” She laughs a bit. “If you want to stay in the mental prison you’ve created, so be it, Carmen. But- I’m here! Every week for the past 11 years” she retorts, tossing her cigarette into a puddle over the parking lot barrier.

“Nice meeting you, kid. Word of advice-“ she turns to me as she pulls her driver's side door open. “Do the fuckin’ homework, mm?” She sits in her seat, starting the car. “That girl you mentioned, whatever her name is- I may be a shrink - but I’m also a spouse - the way your eyes sparkle when you talk about her? That's your wife, if I never see you again? I hope you’ve gone and got her.” She pulled her door closed without another word, backed out of her parking spot.

I felt a vibration against my hip, pulling my phone out of my pocket in case it was one of the employees and checking who it was. My throat dries out as I listen to the marimba ringtone, staring at my screen, my mind going blank.

Winnie 🍯 Mobile

The slide to answer button practically laughed at me.

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈

➵ 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

#the bear fic #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fanfiction #the bear fx #the bear hulu #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto fanfiction #the bear fanfiction #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x oc #carmy berzatto x oc #carmy the bear #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x reader

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thedirtybeanlife · 1 year

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Troubled Youth

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x CPTSD!Reader

(Platonic Soap x Reader if you squint)

Warnings: fem reader, brief mention of injury, talk of childhood trauma, reader has cptsd episode, cursing, non-sexual nudity

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Reader has a CPTSD episode and Simon is there to ground her.

*Please do not read if you are easily triggered*

Stay safe and enjoy <3

Today had been possibly the longest day ever. Nothing had gone right, not even at work or on the drive home. I woke up late, spilled coffee on myself, forgot my report papers, had to get gas, and my ID badge at work wouldn't scan to let me into the building which made me an extra ten minutes late. To say I was pissed was an understatement. I had made it through the day with only a million more inconveniences before my boss let me leave early, clearly seeing I wasn't performing as well as usual. The drive home was filled with rush hour traffic and the inability to find a good song to listen to.

Pulling up to the driveway, a smile formed on my face as I saw the beat up Chevy pickup on the cracked pavement of our driveway. He's finally home. Simon had been sent out with the rest of our team somewhere out in the middle of nowhere, meaning no contact for three months. Not even letters sent by mail or a quick pay phone visit. It’d been hard. Harder not knowing when he was coming back. If he was coming back at all, really. It was always a hard thing to do, let him go off into the dangers of the world like that. At any second a bullet could speed right through him and Soap and John would be the ones in my driveway instead. I was also a member of Task Force-141, but due to an injury out on the field I was put on leave for four months, and having to hear that my boyfriend died from people who are like family to me was not something I ever wanted to experience.

Thankfully, today the world decided to cut me some slack and bring my boyfriend home. I let out a long sigh as I turned the key over in the ignition, killing the engine. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the headrest, taking in a deep breath to compose myself. After giving myself a look over in the visors mirror I got out of the car and locked it before approaching the front door. Just as I was about to reach up and turn the knob, the door swung open. In front of me was a grinning Simon who took one look at my face and immediately pulled me into his chest for a hug.

“Missed you so much, Love.” he whispered against the side of my head, his lips placing a few soft kisses to make sure I believed his words.

“Missed you too. Bad day.” I mumbled into his now crumpled shirt.

“Well, we can't have that, can we? Let’s get you inside. I’ll run you a bath and make us some tea after dinner and we can have a movie night.”

“No, I just want to sleep.” I whined, digging my head deeper into his chest.

His arms wrapped tighter around me as a chuckle reverberated through his chest, “Love, you need some food and a bath at least. It’ll make you feel better, promise. Then we can go to bed.”

For whatever reason his persistence was making me angry. I let out a huff and pulled away, bumping into his bulky frame to get through the doorway and walked over to our couch and threw myself onto it. I closed my eyes and started taking some deep breaths to help ground myself. Once again, I felt Simon come up in front of me.

“You're mad.” he stated simply, his voice sounding miles away as I could only think about how bad everything had gone today.

Not able to stop the intensity of the emotions I was feeling my head snapped up and I glared up at him, “Oh, I am? Wow, never would have guessed, Simon.” I rolled my eyes and went back to the position I was in, more anger radiating off me.

Seemingly taken off guard, having never seen me react like that before, he stayed quiet for a minute before trying again, “I just want to know what's got you feelin’ like this.”

“Bullshit! Nobody fucking cares about how I feel, Simon. I mean seriously, none of my family talks to me, I have no friends, I can't go back to my actual job for another month, and we’re away from each other for weeks at a time. I don't even know if you're alive half the time! It’s not fair.” I got up and went to walk away, but his words stopped me.

“I can't help it that we have important jobs, Y/N. It’s just how it is. We’ll work it out”. In hindsight, if I hadn't been so angry at the way today had gone, I probably would have heard the unbelievably apologetic tone in his voice, and never would have taken it the way I did.

“No, you know what? Fuck you Simon! You have no idea what it's like to have only one person in your life and you hardly get to see them because they're out in another country fighting some war the world doesn't even know about. I’m so scared everyday that Soap or Price are going to show up at our door or my office to give me your tags. I don't have anyone else in my life once your gone”, tears were now streaming down my face and I had managed to curl into myself on the couch and away from my boyfriend.

It was silent for a moment, but then he sighed loudly, which made me look up in fear as a response to how things would go in my childhood. I was met with the stone cold look on his face.

I showed emotion and I was going to pay for it.

That was the only thought running through my head as I looked into his eyes which looked more and more like my fathers by the second.

Simon was standing at his full height, my dads height, and staring down at me with such an intense gaze that it made my heart rate and breathing speed up. He took a step forward, and immediately I was overtaken with fear from the memories of my fathers wrath. Without a second thought, I looked up at him with fear and bolted off the couch and ran to the bathroom, slamming the door and hiding in the shower. Shakily, I grabbed the lid to the tank of the toilet as a weapon in case I needed it. My breathing was quick and unsteady, nearly making me pass out, but that couldn't happen. I had to stay alert. I couldn't let the monster get me. Not again. Not after I had done everything I could to escape him.

My heart was beating in my ears and I felt trapped, like a mouse in a cage. My hands were shaking and the toilet lid kept slipping from how sweaty my palms had gotten. Cold chills were racking my body and the nausea refused to go away. I felt like I was suffocating.

A gentle, low, knock on the door made my head snap in its direction and raise my weapon even higher and more confident. I took a deep breath as I saw the knob slowly turn and the door be pushed open about an inch. A large black nail polish and ring covered hand pushed a journal and a goofy looking child's pen across the floor of the small bathroom. The door was slowly pulled closed, a quiet click sounding from the rings clacking against the metal knob.

That quiet click is what made me snap out of it. My father didn't wear rings or nail polish, this wasn't my childhood bathroom, and that was the man who I was never supposed to be scared of. The man I wasn’t scared of. I let out a shaky sob as I fell to the floor in realization of what just happened, and what I had said to Simon. I felt awful for even thinking like that. I took a few minutes to compose myself, blankly staring at my journal he had thoughtfully slid into the room. He knew me so well. More than I knew my self, honestly.

With a few more shaky deep breaths, I looked over at the door and called out, “Simon?” my voice was rough from the crying I had done throughout the day and the screaming on the ride home.

“Yes, Darling?” his voice was quiet hidden behind the door. I needed it beside me.

“Can you… You can come in now.” I spoke loud enough for him to hear.

I heard some shuffling before the door was opened. Simon slowly crept in, quiet as possible as he approached me. He crouched down to where I was sitting, toilet lid still tightly clutched in my hands with my knees to my chest.

“Why do you have the lid to our toilet, love?”

“It’s a weapon…”

“No weapons needed here. Can i have that to put back? I promise nobody is going to hurt you, Honey.”

Honey. I love when he calls me that.

Taking my silence as a yes, he delicately grabbed the cold, white porcelain from my hands and placed it on the ground next to him.

“Okay, good. Do you want to get out of the shower now?” his voice was soft, almost like he was talking to a small child. It was comforting. Safe. Very new as well.

I shook my head and started playing with the hem of my shirt as I tried to figure out what to say to him. My eyes shifted to meet his and it was quick to ease the buzzing in my ears. The familiarity of the way his nose was slightly crooked, and the way his lips always had a slight frown unless he was smiling or laughing. The stubble on his chin had grown since I last saw him, a beard now present on his face. How hadn't I noticed that earlier?

“I’m awful.” I whispered as I looked away, embarrassed by my reaction to him simply making a sound around me.

“No, we're not doing that. None of that, okay? I don't know what happened, or how today has gone for you, but I want you to listen to me. Nobody is mad at you, nobody is going to hurt you. I love you so, so, so much, and I want to help you. Please, Y/N, let me take care of you. Let me make you feel better. I’ll run you a bath and sit here with you. Then we can order some food. Maybe while we eat, we watch a movie, and you can tell me about how shitty today has been so you can turn your brain off and breathe. How’s that sound?"

Tears started welling in my eyes as he spoke. He was never good with words, but he had moments like these where he made my heart explode with the love I had for him.

“Can I touch you?” he asked.

I nodded with a small smile. He let out a breath of relief and his hands slowly came up to cup my face and wipe my tears away. I melted under his touch, sinking forward until my forehead met his shoulder. His arms moved to wrap around my body, making every bad thing from today disappear. He leaned back and sat fully on the floor, pulling my body from the glass shower into his lap. My arms wrapped around his torso as my nose breathed in the comfort of his scent.

“I’m sorry I said ‘fuck you’, and that you don't know what it's like to not have people. You definitely do. Also for making you think I was scared of you. I promise I’m not. You’re the only person I’m not scared of.” I mumbled into his burning hot skin, relishing in the way it heated up the side of my face.

He once again grabbed the sides of my face and carefully moved me to look up at him,” I know PTSD when I see it. Don’t apologize for something that you have no control over. I understand.” his eyes had a look in them that made me really believe his words.

“I love you.” I yawned, trying to muzzle into him more than I already was.

“I love you too, but that doesn't mean you're skipping out on dinner and a bath. So, up we go.” he was quick to tighten his grip on me and lift us both up off the bathroom floor.

“But I’m tired and shaky now.” I frowned up at him.

He leaned down to give me a small peck on my nose, “That’s why I do all the work and you just sit there and look pretty.” he smirked.

I rolled my eyes and gave him a small laugh which made his smirk turn into a large grin. He gave me another quick kiss on my lips before crouching back down to take off my socks and shoes. His thumb ran over the thin piece of tethered paracord wrapped around my ankle, a chuckle escaping his lips as he looked at the scar next to it.

“Soap that’s such a bad idea!” I laughed over the loud music.

“Oh, come on! We’re best friends now so we have to have friendship bracelets!” he laughed back just as hard.

Task Force 141 had just gone on an extremely difficult intel retrieval mission, all of us nearly dying towards the end of it. We were all at base safe thanks to Laswell calling in air support at just the right time when she noticed we hadn't checked in on comms as directed. Soap and I had gotten the worst of it, multiple bullet wounds and we had burns from being trapped in one of the burning buildings. We had quite a dramatic ‘my life is ending here's my dark secrets’ moment. Once we realized we weren't actually dying, we made an agreement to never speak of it again, shaking on it and working together to get out of the building with the help of the rest of our team on the other side.

Ever since then Soap and I have been joined at the hip. Even off base, much to Simon’s dismay. Soap knew about everything from my childhood. He was typically the person I went to when I felt like I was at a breaking point, knowing Simon shouldn't have to deal with my childhood trauma on top of his. Soap had begged me to tell my boyfriend, knowing he'd understand more than anyone, but I could never bring myself to do it.

“Your drunk ass is going to burn me.” I shook my head, a drunk smile plastered on my face.

Soap and I had gone to a bar a few blocks away from base, needing a drink after the shitshow of a mission Shepherd just sent us all on. The other three stayed back and worked on paperwork and ordered some food, telling us not to get too ‘dog pissed’, as Simon had put it. We were well into our sixth glass of alcohol by now, heavily intoxicated like we were instructed not to do.

“No I won’t! If I did, you’ve had worse so I know you'll be fine.” he joked, hinting at our earlier predicament.

I snorted at his drunk humor and stood up, placing a fifty on the counter and grabbing my jacket, “I hope the dollar tree is still open, asshat.” I stumbled past him and out into the night air, smiling up at the sky as I took in a breath.

Soap eventually stumbled his way out as well and we headed to the nearest dollar store to buy the materials we would need for our drunk sleepover activity. It took us about an hour to find everything we needed, the alcohol not helping us. The old cashier looked annoyed as she scanned our items and took Price’s stolen crumpled dollar bills, but it only made us laugh when we walked out of the store.

Using the least amount of stealth possible, we snuck into my room on base through the window to avoid the lectures from Price and Ghost, and of course the embarrassment from Gaz’s morning camera roll viewing. I managed to drop one of the bags, a pack of lighters, and Cheetos falling out of it. Soap laughed at me, making me throw the rest of the stuff at him, hitting him in the face with it.

“God you're an arse!”

“So are you!” I retaliated loudly, Soaps eyes widening as he realized how loud we were being.

We both made ourselves go silent before snorting and separating everything in piles that made sense to our intoxicated brains. It took us about thirty minutes to actually sit down and start measuring the rope around our ankles. Being less drunk than Soap, I was the one to use the knife to cut the paracord rope.

“If you burn me Johnny, God is the least of your worries.”

“What the bloody hell does that mean?” he looked up in fear.

I just smiled sweetly at him and motioned for him to continue. He nervously, and drunkenly, started burning the rope to make the pieces melted together and form a bond. In a matter of seconds, the flame met my ankle and burnt it, causing me to let out a small yelp and jerk it away from him. He looked up at me with fear in his eyes as my angry ones met his.

“Run.”

I quietly laughed as I recalled the memory,”Never trusting that fool again. Drunk or not.”

He stood back up, his fingers ghosting over my body until he reached the bottom of my shirt, pulling it up and over my head. His lips met my shoulder in a small kiss as his fingers reached around to unclasp my bra and let it fall over my arms and onto the floor with my shirt. Before Simon reached to unbuckle my pants he gave me one last look just to make sure I was okay with it. I smiled up at him, nodding my head slightly. He had never undressed me like this before. It was something I wanted to experience every time I showered from now on. The way his warm hands left goosebumps as they trailed down my bare skin and to the button of my pants. It was in no way sexual, but the feeling of the love that was radiating off of him was practically making me high.

He carefully pulled my pants and underwear down, lifting my feet from the floor one at a time to help me step out of them. After picking up my clothes and putting them in the hamper, he grabbed my robe from off the back of the door and held it up for me to step into, “I’ll start your bath, go pick out something to wear. Make sure it’s warm and comfo- what?”

He was cut off by my bottom lip jutting out and my eyes widening in disappointment,”But you always pick out the best stuff!” I pouted, fully giving into the treatment I was getting from him tonight.

“You’re lucky you’re so cute.” he teased, leaving the room for about a minute, coming back with clean pajamas and one of his hoodies.

I smiled at the thought of being able to wear it when he was done pampering me. Simon had me sit up on the counter while he prepared my bath, the temperature of the water and amount of bubble bath muscle memory by now. It took a few minutes, but when he was done and stood back, the steam rising in the air and the smell of lavender and vanilla was almost intoxicating and inviting as him. He reached his hand out for me to grab, which I did, using his arm to stabilize myself as as I stepped into the hot water. A long sigh of relief tore through my lips as I submerged the rest of my body, my eyes fluttering closed.

Seconds later, Simon's hand was dragging his fingers through my hair, using another to scoop water onto my hair to wet it. The way he moved his fingers through the strands of hair were a stark contrast to the way he used his hands on the field. It made it that much more domestic. Another thirty minutes was spent of Simon washing my hair and body before he had me get off and changed into the clothes he had picked out for me. He guided me out of the bathroom, hairbrush in hand as we walked down the hallway and into the living room. Calloused hands led my body to sit on the couch. Grabbing the remote to the tv, he pressed the power button and it turned on. A minute or two was spent of him scrolling through apps on the tv before he stopped on YouTube and opened it. Working at a pace only Simon could, he searched up Kipper and played the first full episode that popped up.

“Kipper? Why are we watching British Clifford at our age?” was all I asked, too baffled by his choice of entertainment.

Simon laughed, the sound warm and melodious. He set the remote down and attempted to run his fingers through my wet, tangled hair. My heart fluttered at the sound of it. It was rare getting to hear him let loose and laugh like that, especially when it was over something dumb I said. After his laughter died down he took a deep breath and looked down at me, lowering himself to place a kiss on my chapstick covered lips.

“It’s what I used to watch as a kid when things started gettin’ scary. Maybe it’ll help. Just watch fuckin’ British Clifford ‘n let me do your hair. Food will be here any minute.” he spoke, still chuckling at the phrase I used to describe his childhood tv show.

Simon and I had been dating for well over three years now, but with both of us struggling with forming relationships, we were only at the two month mark with our emotions. So hearing him confess something like this made my breath catch in my throat.

“Mine was F/S.” I mumbled, a large smile resting on my face as I watched the orange dog on the screen.

The rest of the evening was rather peaceful. Cartoons on the tv, stomachs full of cheap take out, and Simon refused to let go of me the entire time. He said it was to help me feel better, but I knew deep down he needed it just as much.

#simon ghost riley x reader #call of duty mw2 #fanfiction #xreader #call of duty #oneshot #mw2022 #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #fanfic

281 notes · View notes

punemy-spotted · 9 months

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Sixteen Tons - Chapter 1

Chapter 1 - Muscle and Blood

Pairing: Miner!Curtis Everett x Witch!Reader

Warnings: THIS IS A HORROR FIC, Discussion of death, graphic depiction of someone bleeding out, 1890s coal mining town aesthetic in the modern day, strong pro-union opinions, Pentecostal Christianity, Appalachian Gothic Horror, Cosmic Horror, See future chapter warnings for additional tags, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT

PLEASE REMEMBER THAT YOUR CONSUMPTION OF MEDIA IS YOUR OWN RESPONSIBILITY AND IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THE CONTENT THAT IS BEING PRESENTED, PLEASE DO NOT READ

Chapter Summary: The world melts away, rots into dirt and decay, and as a garden grows untended, you find your gifts crowding out the rest of your life.

We all know that the only light in the deep dark is a paycheck. So hush. Count your blessings, boy. Roof over your head, food on the table, diesel and grease, work boots on the porch, crippled back, crumbling joints, and silence. Company and even union, tuck you in, shut you up, and leave you to rot. And God damn it, you’d better be grateful. - Old Gods of Appalachia Episode 3: The Covenant

Notes: This fic also serves as a sort of direct sequel to Glory, Amen, in that the reader is technically the daughter of Pastor and Ma Rogers, but uses a pseudonym outside of the home she grew up in. The song referenced in this chapter is No Glory, by The Eagle Rock Gospel Singers. They're wonderful, so check them out!

At the time of publishing this chapter, the Family Sleepover, Down in the Valley is still ongoing! Please come by and check it out as we celebrate spooky season all year ‘round!

Also, in this house we support Unions.

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Curtis Everett is going to die.

‘Course, everything dies, eventually. Much as you loathed sittin’ through your daddy’s sermons, you knew the truth in ‘em — death is a prize every livin’ being, regardless of sapience or the desire to be, ought to aspire for.

Death is the gift of all gifts, your daddy would proclaim from his bone-and-antler pulpit, the final gesture of our loving Lord and Savior — an’ of course, you, your sisters, your momma, your daddy and a few others your daddy claimed were kinfolk on his side were just… all the guides meant to introduce all manner of worldly beings too blind t’understand just how precious that kind of oblivion was to the glory of that final, permanent end.

Still.

Curtis Everett is going to die.

Curtis Everett is going to die in your kitchen, his own pickaxe embedded in his chest, the final desperate pumps of his pierced heart pouring blood all over that pretty linoleum you didn’t actually like keepin’ in your kitchen an’ probably would tear up after you came to terms with never feelin’ like you could scrub away the remnants of him.

You watch it play out before you like you’ve done plenty of times before, the course of Curtis Everett’s life written in scars yet t’be earned, bruises waitin’ to bloom on flesh that has known little more than the danger an’ dread of coal dust for as long as you have known him.

You also watch him sittin’ in your clinic, for once not complainin’ as you finish cleaning and re-wrappin’ the thankfully not festering burn he’d been dutifully lettin’ you treat — per your own professional orders — for the past week-and-a-half, Looks like it’s healin’ nicely, but it’ll probably scar.

It’s not the first scar he’s earned in Snowpiercer, but it’s certainly not goin’ to be the last. You’ve been countin’ down the months — and injuries — to that particular worry for a while. The ones you can help him avoid — the ones he listens to you about — you warn against, and the ones he can’t escape, you patch up. The same as you would anyone in Snowpiercer, bein’ the company’s own doctor as you are.

Your momma’d scold you up, down an’ sideways if she knew what you were doin’, interferin’ with the predestined path of men as you watched ‘em struggle, suffer, an’ eventually succumb. But your momma wasn’t here to know, an’ ever if she was, your momma’d never be able to understand just what sorta poison of a gift it was she’d saddled you with.

Death is a Rogers daughter’s birthright, even if they themselves were more often than not denied the majesty of its truest gift. You were not born into this life to die, but to be a guardian of it, to guide the walkin’ dead makin’ their way beyond the borders of that ol’Holler you’d been born in through the trials of judgment an’ that precious, ultimate verdict.

You were not, your momma woulda reminded, voice sharp as the trowel she always kept at her side, garden bloomin’ by her stern hand, meant to shield ‘em from the pains of life — an’ the lessons to be gleaned from ‘em!

Anythin’ you want me to do with it? Curtis Everett’s question breaks you out of your bitterness, reminds you of the more pressin’ responsibilities you chose. You turn to watch him, lookin’ at him as if you might just need a moment to remember the exact instructions you ought to give for his wound care.

Except that’s not what you give, is it?

‘Stead, you look over Curtis Everett’s work-weary expression, the quest dread in his eyes at the prospect of needin’ to manage yet one more thing, one more purchase at the Company Store, one more burden to bear, Just come by every evenin’. I’ll keep the coal dust outta them wrappin’s for you.

You know full well you’ll need to work late t’take care of it — an’ t’clean the coal dust outta your clinic — but it’s better you than him.

Least, that’s what you tell yourself, as Curtis Everett’s shoulder relax, relief floodin’ those work-weathered features you’ve almost started memorizing by this time, makin’ the sleep you will almost certainly lose tomorrow and the remainder of this week worth it.

It must always be worth it.

By the time you leave your clinic, barrin’ the doors for the night, even the moon’s started its settin’, leaving the town in near-pitch darkness. You might’ve — if you were young an’ naïve enough — equated the darkness around you to a mineshaft, if mineshafts still had the privilege of fresh air to reward you for breathin’.

Not on Company Time.

Wiser folk than you might’ve considered stayin’ indoors ‘til sunup. Maybe even considered the merits of puttin’ a cot in your office to avoid havin’ to brave the deep woods durin’ the Witchin’ Hour, everyone more than aware of what sorta shadows lurked beyond the borders of a sad little minin’ town — an’ what sorta shadows would encroach upon those borders the moment they got the chance.

You… ain’t got much time t’think about that now though, not when you catch sight of the figure lurkin’ by the road, the only path there is t’ween your two worlds — the Clinic and the House. Everett?

There he is, hands jammed into the pockets of his overcoat, lurkin’ by the lone streetlamp Pierce an’ Rumlow’d finally seen fit to install in this part of town, after you’d spent about four years complainin’. Too late to be walkin’ back alone, Doctor, he tells you, almost sheepishly, expression invisible in the darkness — and yet you know exactly how his lips have curved into a half-smile you might’ve been quick to return had you seen it in the daytime, Figured I’d walk you back up as thanks for stayin’ late for me.

You can’t help yourself, really — you smile at him right back, the corners of your mouth tickin’ up despite the cruelty playin’ out before your eyes, at least until you remember yourself an’ blink away the vision, If I kept the same hours as you pit boys, nobody’d be gettin’ patched up. Now you best not be tellin’ me you were lurkin’ out here in the pitch dark an’ cold waitin’ for me t’finish my notes and close up, Curtis Everett.

Maybe you ought not have put words in his mouth — or taken ‘em out, as the case may be — as he shrugs at you and flashes you a grin you cannot see but are certain of, Then I won’t, Doctor.

An’ with that, he starts off back down the road, towards the lights still spillin’ from the windows of your boarding house, hummin’ some ol’ work song you only halfway knew the words too. An’ you watch him go on for longer than you should, takin’ in the sight of his silhouette slowly becomin’ part of the gloom.

You catch up soon enough, keepin’ up with his long, languid strides as if by some miracle, your own steps quick and harried. There are moments you wonder how a man like Curtis Everett — always managin’ to tower over everyone in the room, includin’ Superintendent Wilford an’ that lady Minister Mason he’d installed over at the Tabernacle of the Iron Gospel — ever really managed to fit in the mines this whole sad sack of a town was built around.

Shouldn’t have stayed out waitin’ for me, you scold with a good-natured ribbin’, not really meaning to chastise… but worry instead, You’ll’ve missed dinner call, Everett.

So’ve you, Doctor, he counters, the burr of laughter in his voice makin’ you roll your eyes an’ put on a scowl you barely mean — mostly cuz you hate feelin’ so outwitted, but no one dare make you admit it.

I’m allowed to be late, I own the place, you argue right back, a rebuttal that earns you another low chuckle, a sound you’re only used to hearin’ from Curtis on rare occasion — earnin’ you a burn of pride in your chest at hearing it now.

You really ought not do this, you know. But here you are, comfortable in the cold silence of the deep night, hands jammed into your coat pockets, walkin’ alongside Curtis Everett with all the calm an’ ease of dear friends.

Glancing at him. Looking without lookin’, pretendin’ you don’t know what you’ll see when you—

You know better, is the bottom line. You know you ought to know better — hell, you know your momma taught you better.

In the corner of your vision, Curtis Everett bleeds his last on your linoleum floor.

In front of you? Curtis Everett hums a work song an’ walks with you through the gloom, right up to the gold-light gleam of your doorstep an’ into your kitchen, the ghosts of the future fadin’ into an approaching dawn.

An’ maybe that’s enough.

Company House — its true name barely in use by you or your boarders, halfway for your own protection an’ halfways cuz it’s just easier — is a handsome-enough structure, nothin’ like that ramblin’ greenhouse you’d sprouted in, a bloom in your momma’s garden.

No. Company House — name lost an’ purpose found — on the other hand, is yours. All yours.

A loomin’ thing, the house cuts through the nighttime gloom like a lighthouse, every window on its main story burstin’ with light. Built on a hill overlookin’ the town proper, it served as home an’ hearth for any miner ineligible for the pretty pre-built housin’ developments south of the mine, where Pierce & Rumlow… rewarded those willin’ to produce more bodies to throw into that gapin’ wound the combine’d carved into the mountainside with such luxuries as driveways, fences, mortgages, an’ obligations.

It was just the way you liked it. Home for the lonely an’ the friendless — least that’s how it sounded in town, if someone dared ask Minister Mason about the mountain fortress an’ the ‘Godless Heathens’ inhabitin’ it. The Iron Gospel she preached ran on the blood an’ bones of its congregation, on family an’ obligation, on ties that bind whole generations to the mine.

A Gospel that had no room for the wholly different kinda worship that comes from strangers sittin’ round a table breakin’ bread an’ formin’ bonds. On brotherhood an’ union, on wantin’ somethin’ better that the paltry concessions afforded by minders with plenty of money t’provide more. You knew it then from your daddy’s own congregation an’ those Sunday suppers your momma arranged each week. You know it now from the warm surety of Curtis Everett’s hand on your arm, keepin’ you from losin’ your footing on that trick step you ain’t had time to fix — I can get Ed to take care of that tomorrow — and the sound of hurried conversation bubbling outta your front parlor, house still buzzin’ with life.

Shit, Curtis’s swearing nearly startles you outta your skin all over again as you both stand on the front porch, stompin’ the day’s coal dust off your shoes, forgot there was meeting tonight. Foreman’s gonna have words for me, no doubt.

You’re allowed t’be late, for walkin’ me home, you tell him, letting the light of the house illuminate your smile as you open the front door.

Meeting is a cute word for it — s’the way things go, get the lonely and the friendless to start airin’ grievances an’ suddenly they ain’t so lonely nor so friendless anymore. A man with a wife and children might think twice about givin’ the company a reason to tear away the roof over his family’s head, divin’ into his future tomb day after day, respirator an’ headlamp in hand, but a man with nothin’ to lose is a man with a bone to pick with the only industry in town capable of puttin’ food in his belly on a daily basis — so long as he survived to see his next meal. Unions, you got used to hearin’ back in your own holler, are the Lord’s way of puttin’ His protection back into a man’s own hands.

Too bad them folks at P&R’d forgotten that sorta conventional wisdom.

Tonight’s union meeting is just about comin’ to a close when you and Curtis walk in, a cracked joke derailing whatever Gilliam’s supposed agenda had left to cover. You’re late, the old man half-scolds, room hushed by his disappointment as all eyes turn to you and the union leader you know you’re already being accused of distracting.

Curtis Everett is going to die.

Ignoring the raised voices that begin in your wake — and unwilling to get between two men in the middle of a union dispute — you make yourself proper scarce, disappearing into the kitchen. Between running the clinic and the house, you’re run halfway ragged, but you do cheer quietly upon seeing two foil-covered plates sitting in the fridge — Yona keeps true to her eternal word, making sure nobody goes hungry if she’s got the time and the ingredients.

The sound of someone entering the kitchen while you’re putting plates in the warmer don’t surprise you much — someone was bound to follow you into this place eventually — but you don’t turn around, not immediately.

Not ‘til Curtis Everett clears his throat, Thought I smelled food.

You sure you ain’t part bloodhound, smellin’ it all the way out there?

There. Another burr of laughter, low in his throat, and another burn of pride.

They calm down out there? You wave your hand toward the general direction of the parlor, noting the distinct lack of raised voices now that the warmer’s stopped beepin’ at you.

It’s my fault — should’ve told ‘em I’d be late.

They worried?

He’s quiet at that, the silence sittin’ heavy on both your shoulders while you move around the kitchen some more, collectin’ utensils and glancin’ back at him occasionally, waiting.

Finally — Gilliam’s steppin’ down. Nobody wants the job — company’s made sure of that.

You set the platter in front of him, to quiet thanks, He still want you to take over?

He don’t need to answer. You see it again, written all over his face — someone’s gotta do it.

The rest of the meal is… quiet. Heavy. Uncomfortable. A silence neither of you are willin’ to break, coupled with glances neither of you are willin’ to admit to, brows furrowed and thoughts elsewhere. Barely tasting the food, just glad to have something to busy your mouths with, ‘stead of trying to hold a conversation neither party wants t’have or worse — trying to change the fuckin’ subject, with both your minds trapped on the things you’d rather not think about.

Curtis Everett is going to die.

Everything dies, eventually. You rationalize it between bites, teeth on tongue to keep the scream of it all held in your chest. Everything dies, including Curtis Everett. Including Gilliam — whose death you’ve pre-emptively forgiven certain parties for. Including Yona — whose hands will evidence endless adventures before she lays down for that final rest, satisfied an’ satisfying. Everything dies. Includin’ Curtis Everett.

Curtis Everett, who will take on the work. Who, in three weeks’ time, will be back in your clinic, bullet in his shoulder an’ strike unbroken. Company infuriated.

One injury closer.

You open your mouth, about to do the unthinkable, disappointment and poisoned bloom — everythin’ dies, but Curtis Everett deserves to choose — when the music finally registers with you both.

Music. And singing. And laughter.

The kitchen door slams open hard enough to rattle the plates in the cupboard, Yona’s wild presence in the doorway, Come on!

No explanation. No answers. You’ll have t’see it to know it.

Curtis glances back at you, brow raised an’ hackles too. Better make sure they’re behavin’ out there, is all you give in response to it, on your feet in a flash, empty dishes in hand.

He lingers, eyes on you. Imposes his will with his presence, You need help with the dishes?

Let him stay.

You don’t.

S’two plates an’ a couple mugs. I’ll be fine — you go, keep an eye on ‘em for me.

He’s so fast — behind you in a flash. How does a man so tall an’ so full of presence move so fast?

Got no time for answering that, not when his hand’s on your shoulder and you’re glancin’ back at him without thinkin’, waiting. Come out there when you’re done or Yona’ll never let either of us hear the end of it.

An’ neither will I, is what he doesn’t say. Not aloud, at least, stepping back only when you nod.

It don’t stop you from hearin’ it though, playin’ on loop in your mind all the way through dishes, through cleanin’ up your kitchen, through makin’ good on your word an’ takin’ that cautious walk to your parlor, where the sound of stompin’ boots joins in with the chorus of voices pouring outta your record player, blessedly drownin’ out all manner of conscious thought.

Take me down to that red dirt road Where all them white tails, white tails roam

The parlor is abuzz with life, a hive of movement as you take in rearranged furniture an’ the slowly climbin’ beat of stomping boots coupled with clapping hands, ring of bodies circlin’ the room, all watching Tanya — up from the General Store like always, on behalf of the widows this town left behind — in her valiant attempt to tutor Edgar in the complexities an’ social conventions of a good ol’ fashioned barn dance.

I don’t belong in a big coal town Can’t hear my Lord in all that sound

You almost manage t’become part of that ring of onlookers, slippin’ past the disapproval ruining Gilliam’s face, but turns out no one escapes Curtis Everet, work-hardened fingers winding around your wrist an’ pulling you back, Thought I was gonna have t’come rescue you from the sink, and now there’s no getting away, nor are you feelin’ quite so keen on it anymore.

Not when he looks at you like that.

Wanna show ‘em how it’s done, Doctor?

You dance, Everett? Since when? And since when did Curtis Everett become capable of smiling so sweet he just might fool you into saying yes?

Hell — what gave him the right?

Well I’ve had my fill, of concrete floor Where all them highways, them highways grow

You don’t get a chance to ask too many questions of him, not when he’s pullin’ your fool self right into the center of that cleared floor, sayin’ somethin’ about secrets you barely catch before he’s turnin’ you about an’ you gotta start paying some fucking attention.

There ain’t no glory None that I see None to compare Your love for me

‘Course, you’ve danced before — your daddy might’ve been a fire an’ brimstone preacher up at that bone an’ antler pulpit but he wasn’t a fool — but barn dances an’ church revivals don’t do shit t’prepare you for the rush, for the easy pressure of Curtis Everett’s hands on you, for the peal of laughter that pours outta your throat before you get a chance to think about it the moment he spins you out an’ catches you back with entirely too much ease.

He surprises you and doesn’t at the same time, sure hands and steady feet, both of you catching on to the rhythm quickly as the rest of the room drums the beat, a cacophony of work boots strikin’ the floor in a steady pattern, You gonna answer my question properly, Everett, you accuse him and he pulls you closer, smile on your face betrayin’ any anger you might be feigning.

I’m full of surprises, Doctor.

My days are few, my time is near But I know God will take my fear

He keeps his hands respectful, holdin’ one of your high and keepin’ the other at the small of your back, but there’s nothin’ either of you can — or want to, you’re startin’ to realize — do about the closeness, about the way you can’t stop looking up at him and the stormclouds in his eyes, like you’re seeing them for the first time. Really seeing them, that is.

It’s somethin’. Hypnotic.

The chorus turns into a loop, a rising swell of voices joinin’ your thudding heartbeat, lips parting to ask another question, make another joke, feel that burr of laughter against your chest, feel hands fallin’ from the glory of God to meet a different kinda worship, feel fingers curl into his coat like a lifeline.

He holds your cheek. He draws you in.

His mouth slides over yours like an invitation, your lips parting like an acceptance, like forgetting, like surrender. The music does not slow, but you do, fallin’ into the languid ease of hungry breathlessness, like you could find answers in the sweep of a tongue against yours, in the tightening of his grip on your back, in the wall of him around you.

Your love for me Your love for me Your love for me Your love for me

#curtis everett x reader #curtis everett x fem!reader #curtis everett #curtis everett x you #curtis everett imagine #chris evans #chris evans imagine #fanfiction #writing #in which tessa finally writes something #series: down here in this valley

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