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ysrjune · 13 hours

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omgomg what abt like reader and sam monroe are really good friends and he like has a thing for her in high dchool but she moves away n they run into eachother in the future AND HE LOOKS LIKE ANAKIN NOW.

(shut the fuck up this is so cute but like sad to me. im gonna sob 💔) also im literally listening to 'into you' by ariana grande, so that's why that's the title, ahaha 😈

Into You ✦

Sam had been a really good friend of yours since sophomore year. You didn't hang out with the same people at all, though. Sam hung out with a couple of druggies and ‘freaks’ while you were paired with ‘normal’ people.

You became friends with Sam because you had the same p.e class with him. He was often left alone and in the corner after walking 2 daily laps. Some guys even made fun of him, but Sam would always ignore them. Even your own girlfriends would make fun of him! You always felt bad for that poor boy.

So, one day you left your friends after walking 2 laps and went to the corner that Sam was always at. He didn't notice you at first, but once he did, he looked nervous. Why was a girl going up to him? The worse scenarios were going through his head. Maybe someone dared you to do that thing were you go up to a random kid and ask them out and if they say yes, you laugh and explain it was a dare.

When you finally stood in front of him, he glanced up anxiously and looked back down, waiting for you to just get it over with. “Hi, Sam.” You sweetly greeted with that charming smile of yours. He only nodded his head to your greet.

“Look, I know you're probably scared im gonna say or do something mean, but please trust me when I say I wanna be your friend.” and sat next to him. He was stunned at what you had said. You were so pretty and had a bunch of friends. Why do you wanna be his?

Sam messed with the stud inside his lip, making his labret move from the outside. “Just cause you feel bad doesn't mean you have to be my friend.” He softly spoke. Yeah, that was the big part of it, but you also believed everyone should have a friend.

It's not like Sam was completely friendless, but he was left out in a lot of his classes that his friends weren't in, and you wanted to change that. “Sam, I wanna be your friend because I think there's more to you than what people think.” He finally looked at you but still kept an emotionless expression. “Yeah, okay.”

And from then on, you bothered him every simple day during pe. You made him walk with you, run the miles with you, literally participate im everything in that class. He acted annoyed at first (which really, he loved the attention), but as time went by, he came around.

Sometimes, you'd ditch your friends to go inside the hallways or classrooms to spend lunch with Sam. You two became so close that he let you meet his mom, dad, step-dad, and little brothers.. and boy, did they love you.

The point has been made. You're close friends. Junior year was the year his biological dad died, but you helped him through it all. Especially with his drug problem. Since the last week of sophomore year, he's had a crush on you. At first, he tried to brush it off, telling himself that it's never gonna happen and to just keep you as a friend. You were the only one who genuinely cared anyway.

Sam had dated some girl named Alyssa for a while, which you hated. She was such a dirty hoe.. there were rumors that she kissed Sam's dad and that she told Josh to lie about never having sex with her, but come on, no one really believes that.

You tried to be happy for Sam, and you were for a little bit until Alyssa had a cow over you being too close with Sam. As a girl who's experienced the same, you understood and stopped talking to him for a while. Only giving him smiles and waves when you'd see him around.

What you didn't know is that when you stopped talking to him, he was really mad at Alyssa. “Alyssa, I love you, but you have to understand that she's the only one who really cared for me before you. I can't just stop talking to her like that. If I never met her, I'd probably would have already been dead because of how fucked up on drugs I was.” But she clearly didn't care.

She was so damn jealous that she wasn't the one who helped him through all that. Not only was she mad over that, but she was upset that you were prettier. Inside and out. She was so toxic with Sam, and everyone knew. His friends told him to just break up with her, but he didn’t want to. That poor boy was too scared.

At the end of 11th grade, he finally broke up with her, though, even though it was quick. All he said was that he was unhappy, and she used him for attention and that it was over. She didn't get a say in it because he walked away right after. And who did he immediately go to? You. He craved you so bad.

You had a boyfriend now, and he was so pissed. That should have been him. He was just too scared to say anything. Always seeing you hugging and kissing all over him was gut-wrenching. That whole breakup was right when the bell rang after school, so he planned to go to his house to freshen up and talk to you.

He knocked on the door around 6 in the afternoon just in case you were eating dinner at 4-5. Your mom opened the door, greeting him with a big hug since she hasnt seen him in so long. Let's just say things were awkward at first between you two at first, but after explaining everything, it was fine.

You gushed to him about Jesus, your boyfriend. Talking about how sweet and handsome he is.. Sam acted happy for your sake, but ooh, he was so jealous.

Stuff went back to normal, and you two became close again really quick. Sam met Jesus, and it went pretty well. Even if Sam was jealous/mad, he saw that Jesus really liked you and seemed like a good guy. What relieved him even more was that Jesus didn't mind your friendship.

“Oh, yeah. I had a homie who was on drugs and stuff. He didn't have anyone to help him out like that, so it's chill that you helped him out like that. I'd never get mad over him wanting to hang out, you know?” Your boyfriend explained one time when he was over.

You lasted with Jesus for a couple of months until the last few weeks of school because you were going to an out of state college. Sam didn't know that was the reason, though. He just saw it as a chance to finally confess. You two were sitting in an empty classroom together at lunch.

“Sam, we need to talk.” You speak softly. “We are talking.” He replies, eating a chip. “No, like. I have something serious to tell you.” His heart dropped. Were you gonna drop him? Did he do something wrong?

“What is it..” You friend replies with an anxious look plastered on his face. “I'm moving after graduation. Like, to an out of state college.” One part of Sam was happy, and the other was devastated. He finally got you back, and now you're leaving?

“Oh, um,” He looked to the floor. “That's great. Uh—not in the sense that, like, I want you to leave, but, you know. It's great that you have this opportunity.” He tried his best not to cry but failed. You two spent the whole time crying to each other, saying how much you'll miss each other.

But you'll keep in touch.. right?

—

You and Sam were bawling by the end of it. He was probably even sadder because it's not like he can tell you he likes.. no. Loves you, because what's the point?

He went along with you to the air port, saying goodbye. Hugging you hard and placing a kiss on your head. “Have a good time, okay? Have fun.” Sam says, eyes all red and droopy.

You nod, kissing his cheek and leaving a faint mark. Before he knew it, you were on that plane and gone. You swore that you were gonna call and visit for the holidays, but guess what! You didn't.

Spring break? No. Thanksgiving? Christmas? His birthday? Nope. He tried calling one time, but the number was out of service. That was the last straw. He was so mad at you.

He got over it after a year or so, too. He pushed himself to be more social and actually go out. His appearance changed, too. No more eyeliner or dressing in dark clothing. He even dyed his hair brown.

—

He kinda forgot about you since even after your four years at college were up, you stayed. You forgot about him too. Your new friends kept you busy all the time, along with your job.

Your look didn't change as drastically as Sam's. Your style of clothing changed a little, and so did your attitude. Back then, you were such a goody two shoes. Now, you go out amd party and break the rules more often. Nothing totally illegal, but you get it.

You still talked to your parents every night. They asked so many times to come visit you because they're getting old (a little dramatic, but it was still true) so you finally said yes after 6 years of not seeing them.

Your cousin had picked you up from the airport, thrilled to see you. She was chatting it up and telling you about everything that has been going on since you left. Then it hit you. Sam Monroe, that emo boy you loved so much probably still lived here. Your cousin knew him back then, too, so maybe she knows what hes been up to.

“Oh, girl. He's like, a totally different person. Dyed his hair, became more talkative.. like, literally. A bunch of girls from high school like him cause they realized how handsome he is, I guess.” She keeps babbling on about him to you. He changed a lot, it seems. But there was no way you were gonna try and go look for him. You knew he was more than likely mad at you for not calling and visiting.

Your parents had invited a bunch of people over for a welcome home party. They were all in the backyard, though. So, you had time to get ready. Sam was left in your mind while you showered and got ready. How different could he really look?

After you get ready, you make your way to the backyard, greeting aunts and uncles, cousins, and family friends, but most importantly, your parents. You were smothered by your mom's kisses and practically crushed by your dads hugs. They missed their little girl.

You drank with your cousins and played party games while the older adults watched and laughed at you, losing almost every round, causing you to face the penalty and take a shot.

By the end of the night, you were so drunk. No memory of what happened that night when you woke up in the morning. Confused in your old room, you groan and whine. A headache was bothering you, and you felt super weak, but you remembered that your dad wanted you to go to the hardware store with him to pick up a few tools.

You knew he would offer to just let you stay and rest, but you haven't seen him in so long and wanted to spend as much time with him as you could. With another groan, you force yourself to get up and shower. You didn't even bother to put on makeup or do your hair.. not even to wear a cute outfit.

Sweats with a baggy t-shirt and a pair of slippers was your choice. Your mom gave you something quick to eat before leaving with dad. The store was close by, so the ride there wasn't too long. Dad asked about everything you did over where you live.

Ex boyfriends, the classes you took, and a lot of other things were talked about, even when you got off the car and entered the store. You talked his ear off while he was looking through the aisles. One thing about dad was that he's never at the hardware store just for what he actually needs.

Normally, he'd tell you to shut up with all your talking because, well.. you're a chatterbox. but this was an exception since he hasn't seen you for a long time. Half an hour passed by before he asked you to go get something for him in aisle 12.

You looked and looked around that aisle for what seemed like forever trying to find a specific tool dad asked for. A groan escapes your throat, and before you know it, you are asked a question by a worker.

“Need any help, ma’am?” His voice was soft and calm. You turned around to see a very tall, muscular man with tanned skin, brown hair, and piercing blue eyes. He was very handsome. So handsome that he left you speechless, and it was sort of weirding him out.

“Ma’am.” He repeated himself, looking slightly uncomfortable. You knock out of your trance and visibly cringed at yourself. “Sorry, um. Yes, I need help.” You respond with a nervous tone. “Yeah? Okay, what do we need?”

“A shovel.” You reply, trying to avoid eye contact. The man laughed a little, shaking his head. “Well, this definitely isn't the aisle where you'll be finding those.” Great, now you look stupid. Did dad send you to the wrong one on accident? Who knows. You just felt really stupid.

“Come on, n/n, I'll show you.” He says and starts walking away. It took you a couple of seconds to realize that he had just called you your nickname. What the fuck? How does he know that? Wait.

No, there's no way. This guy looks nothing like the one you had in mind. “Here ya are.” He interrupts your thoughts. “Oh, thank you,” You squint to look at his name tag. It was him. “Sam.”

“Did it really take you that long to realize?” He snickered and set his hands on his hips. “But I guess I can't blame you, though, huh? I look nothing like I did when you left.” Of course, he had to add that last part. Now you were sure he was pissed about what happened.

“Yeah..” was all you replied while literally checking him out. he didn't mind it. He knew he was handsome. His confidence grew a lot while you were away. “So, anyway. I'd recommend this one.” He quickly changed the topic.

—

He talked to you for a little while in that same spot. About why you left and why you didn't call back—but he was so mature about it. He wasn't angry or sad.. he was just asking like if it was normal. He even walked you back to where your dad was at, and said hi.

It made you smile to hear him ask for your new number. “Just so you know, I'm taking you out tonight, and you can't say no. Pick you up at 8.” He smiles at you. You shake your head and smile again. “Okay, see you then.”

—

errrm part 2 when 🤔

tags, @heartsforanakin @sockiess @radiantvader @anakinstwinklebunny @lunalitva @lvrfay3 🎀

#hayden christensen #sam monroe #life as a house #sam monroe x you #sam monroe x reader #sam monroe imagine #sam monroe smut #i love sam monroe #sam monroe fanfiction #hayden christensen fanfic #hayden christensen star wars #anakin skywalker smut #rots anakin #anakin skywalker x you #anakin smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker

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042502 · 1 day

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Experimenting // C. Sturniolo x Reader.

SYNOPSIS: You and Chris are two teenagers who started dating a few months ago, curiously beginning to experience new things together. WARNINGS: Adolescents, groping, porn, inappropriate language, obscene descriptions, among others.

NOTES: My first language is not English, so if you find any grammatical errors you already know why :) MASTERLIST!!

I was standing in front of the refrigerator, leaning on the door. No matter how hard you search, the inside of the refrigerator would still be empty. I couldn't believe that my mother goes to work and forgets that she has a daughter to feed. what a bummer. My stomach growls with hunger and my moody face grows bigger. I remember that there was half of the bread I had for breakfast in the morning left in the cupboard, so I head over there and take a good bite. End of the month was always difficult in my house, my parents' salary was not enough.

I sit at the table and look out through the window. Since I left school at noon it seemed like a terrible rain was coming and it didn't take long to wait. The drops were pattering against the glass and the sky was dark. She still had her backpack on from having just arrived while she chewed the little bread I had left. I distract myself with some TV and settle down at the table, leaving my backpack aside. A few minutes pass until I hear a knock on the door. It's a little hard for me to see who it is because the rain soaked through the window, but I see a figure standing at my door.

I can't figure out who it is but I get up from my place to run to the door anyway, If someone is getting wet in the storm there must be a reason. Once I opened the door it's not hard for me to know it's Chris, so I smile excitedly, I don't even mind getting soaked in the rain. We had already seen each other at school all day, but I love seeing him again.

"Hurry up, stop looking at me and open up to me, I'm getting wet." Chris speaks, pretending to be angry as I open the door for him and we run towards the house. He has a bag in his hand with a Pepsi bottle peeking out of it.

Once inside the house I leave him a short kiss on the lips and go in search of a towel. When he returns to the kitchen he is obviously already quite comfortable at the table, as if it were his home.

"What's the matter that you came, honey?" I asked for. Every time I say a pet name to him I get butterflies in my stomach, a mix between shame and happiness to be able to call it that. We have been dating for a very short time.

He begins to dry himself with the towel and leaves it on the back of the chair.

"Your mom told me she didn't leave you anything for lunch." he finally says. He points to the bag he brought that has two hamburgers in it. My eyes lit up and he pulled me on top of him to hug him and fill his face with kisses. "Oh my God ma, You're seriously very hungry." He says laughing as he tries to reciprocate the kisses I give him on the mouth.

"I love you I love you I love you" I stayed sitting between his legs and got ready to eat, I was very hungry. Chris repeats my action and takes a good bite.

We started talking about trivial things and every so often we gave each other a couple of kisses. It makes me very happy to spend time with him outside of school because everything feels a little more intimate. He is very good company and he always knows what to say to me to make me laugh, I had a great time with him because in addition to being boyfriends, we are best friends.

"Bro, you don't know what Nate told me" Chris says with a gossipy lady tone. "Do you remember the girl who was chasing him?"

"Ema?" She asked with her eyebrows furrowed, he nods quickly with the burger in his mouth.

"He says they went to a boring party and out of nowhere Ema took him to the darkness and gave him a blowjob" He starts laughing out loud and I can't help but laugh with him. Not only about what he tells me, but about how he spoke with his entire mouth full.

"Oh Chris, you are disgusting."

"She is the disgusting one, how is she going to give him a damn oral, what if someone sees them?. I would die of shame."

Although I know that it is very easy for Chris to talk about that topic, I still feel sorry for him. We've been dating for a very short time and I know that this topic should be a little more normal for both of us, but I can't help but get nervous when I think about it.

"You already know what she is like, She is a slut looking for male attention, she must be more than fucked" say, trying to handle the situation and pretending that I understand everything.

Chris shrugs his shoulders and finishes his burger.

"Anyway ma, Aren't you ashamed of that?" He sees my confused face and adds "You know, stupid, to do it in places that can discover you."

Chris' comment makes me think he has no idea what he's talking about.

I laugh and deny.

"Did you do it?"

I pray to all the saints that their answer is no. If he answers that a woman touched him before me, I'm capable of fainting right there. Chris and me "We went out" since we were twelve years old, when we had our first kiss. But since we were both very little we wanted to try what it would be like to be together until he asked me recently and we made it official. So, he had all the freedom in the world to do whatever he wanted, And since he was quite shameless, I don't doubt that some girl jumped on him.

He takes a while to respond and that catches my attention. It makes me tender when I see him blush and I can't help but laugh.

"What's wrong Chris?" I ask laughing. I approach him and hug him tenderly.

"I thought it was obvious that not..." he answers quite embarrassed. I separate myself from him to look at his face and he is indeed quite nervous.

"oh fool, You don't have to get like that because of that. It's not that there is an age to do it, Just because others do it at your age doesn't mean you're obligated to do it."

He looks to the side, avoiding looking at me, he always does that when he's very embarrassed. My boy, I want to fill him with kisses. He turns to me again and crosses his arms, now not only is he embarrassed, but he seems offended.

"Do you?"

"Don't be stupid Chris" I approach and give him a kiss. "You know how I am, I've always been in love with you, how can you imagine that I could even touch a hair of another boy other than you."

"I don't know about the hair but the cock..." He responds laughing, he is no longer offended.. "Weren't you there because you didn't want to or because the moment didn't happen?"

I think about the answer a little, remembering a couple of random situations.

"You already know what Madi and Sofía are like." I remember him, referring to the fact that both have a long history. "They always tried to get me to have something with some random guy, but I always refused."

It seems that my answer gave him peace, I guess he must have been thinking the same thing as me, that no one has been with me before him.

"And you would like it...?" I notice again how the color rises to his cheeks. Although it makes me tender, it also provokes different things in me. The conversation has me quite comfortable and thinking about those things makes me start to become delirious.

"Yeah, could be..." I look the other way "And you?"

"Yeah, I don't know..." respond too, embarrassing "And have you looked at... any of that?"

We both avoid saying "the word", After all, we are two teenagers who are just learning about everything.

"You mean porn?" I go straight to the point, tired of your turns. It's not usually like this, but you can see that he really got nervous. He nods his head. "Oh yes, but I don't like the men's and women's ones very much."

"No? And what are you looking at?" He seems quite confused.

"of girls" I answer timidly. He seems surprised and laughs.

"Seriously you are...?"

"No, Chris. But I like what girls do to each other, it seems more normal to me, I don't know... Boys are more aggressive with girls, and I don't feel like they enjoy it very much."

"Oh yeah, it's true. The kids say that's cool, but I don't think so."

"Yes, they suffocate or hurt them, I don't know if that's the case."

"How do girls do it if they don't have dicks?"

"Do not be stupid, Chris" I laugh. "You have never seen?" denies. "They didn't show you either?" deny again. "That's strange, boys always like it."

"I heard but never saw" raises his shoulders.

An idea crosses my head, but I'm not sure how good it is. We look at each other while we are both silent, thoughtful..

"Shall we look?" We asked in unison and laughed at the coincidence.

We both nod and I get up to go get the laptop. I go back to the kitchen, I clean the table a little and sit on my boyfriend's lap again. I open the computer, I search and put one of the videos. I look at Chris, he's curious and I smile because I know he's going to like it. The video starts playing, the girls talk and soon they are on the couch kissing.

"It's the way they do it, You understand?" I tell him, without taking my eyes off the video. "They do it as if they both enjoy it."

Chris is quiet, attentive. We see how they begin to take off their clothes, one of the girls is on top of the other and moves slowly on top of her. I like the way they tempt each other, how they play in some way, they don't go "direct" to the fact, but they enjoy all of the above. I wanted to see this just because I wanted Chris to see what it was about, but I didn't think it would turn me on even though I was with him. And while the girl is getting rid of the clothes that cover her opponent, I think about how good it would feel to have Chris's hands doing the same. Sliding his fingers into the straps of my bra to move them over my shoulders, squeezing my tits and even kissing them. I feel something strong on the mount of Venus that descends a little further to my femininity. It's the same thing I feel when I watch those videos alone, but it's enhanced a thousand times more.

Chris's heavy breathing hits the back of my neck and makes me fantasize some more. The girls, now naked, begin to rub against each other, moaning. I imagine how good it would feel to do that same thing on Chris's leg, or on top of his hand, or even on top of him. So, how I'm sitting now, moving. I have to bite my lower lip a little hard, I can't pay enough attention to the video anymore because I'm already lost in my thoughts. How good it must feel to do all that with him.

When one of the girls starts fingering the other, Chris pauses the video, throwing me off. I turned to see him confused, I didn't want to think about how he didn't like it or how he was angry about what I showed him..

"I need to go to the bathroom, ma..." He speaks with a serious tone that leaves me hypnotized for a few seconds. He never spoke to me with that hoarse voice, nor did he look at me with eyes tinted a darker color. I blink a few times and lick my lips nervously. He tries to push me off his lap but I stay still on top of him.

"Because?" I came to ask, without even getting out of how hypnotized it has left me. We stare into each other's eyes and I feel quite hot. I'm still trying to figure out all these new sensations we're experiencing.

"Because..." He looks down and I do the same as him, seeing how his erection is still visible above his gray pants. I had never seen it like that, so I was quite scared. "I'm sorry."

He smiled at her, shaking his head.

"Why are you apologizing? You haven't done anything."

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable, forgive me" he rests his forehead on my shoulder.

"I'm hot too" I say out of nowhere, without thinking, completely on impulse. Although it's true, I don't know if it's okay to say it like that. He raises his head and looks at me with a raised eyebrow, making a mischievous smile that I had never seen before either.

"Oh really?" he asked surprised. "And what made you like this?"

"The video... and you."

"I?"

"Yes, because I've started thinking about you doing those things to me."

I don't know where I got the courage from, but the truths come out one after another from my mouth. I guess that's how it is when you trust someone to tell them what's happening to you. He runs the tip of his tongue over his lips slowly and deliberately, making me focus on that action. It doesn't go unnoticed by me how quickly his chest rises and falls and I have a hard time not looking down at his erection. His hands find a place on my waist and squeeze each side of it, making my breath hitch. I still have my back turned to him, he can barely see my face in profile. He raises one of his hands, caressing my back until he reaches my hair and pushes it aside, leaving my neck and part of my neck exposed.

"Would you like it...?" he asks close to my ear, shuddering. "Would you like me to do all those things to you?"

"Mhm..." I respond with difficulty, feeling how he begins to distribute kisses on the side of my neck. I feel so many things that I don't know how to explain each one.

"Have you ever fingered yourself?" I shake my head slightly. "And you rubbed like them?" This time I nod. His hands caress my waist with such slowness that it sends shocks throughout my body. "Can you imagine if I touched you like that?" His new deep voice makes me bite my lips just imagining what he proposes. His hands travel to my thighs and gently squeeze the area, giving light caresses. I shift a little, involuntarily bumping my butt against his member. "Jesus..." He presses harder on my thighs and makes a deep sigh leave my lips. I try the movement I made again and I feel the hardness beneath me again that makes me want to move more. I repeat this a couple more times and pull myself back, crashing my back into his chest. I turn my head and begin to kiss him, deepening it with our tongues and feeling some sounds interfere with the kiss.

From afar I hear the key making its way into the lock and I startle, quickly getting up from Chris's lap. I take the first seat I can find and forcefully close the computer. My mother walks through the door and looks at us both with a smile.

"They don't know who they let out early today." she says excitedly, but when he sees us both agitated he frowns. She is all soaked from the terrible storm that continues outside, so she takes off her coat while looking at us confused. "And those faces?"

Chris opens his mouth to answer but I rush to speak because I know his excuses are terrible.

"I just thought you were dad, you know how he gets when he sees that Chris and I are alone."

"Oh yes, it's exaggerated, you know they are children" she says, heading to the kitchen to get a glass and pour herself a glass of juice.

Chris and I looked at each other knowingly and laughed silently, looking at the ground.

NOTES: Remember to hit the heart and share it with your friends! Thanks for reading^^ If you want to be part of the taglist leave a comment!

TAGLIST: @luverboychris @alexandernvr @prisciliin @sturncakez @imwetforyourmom @hotreaderliin @tillies33ssss

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lets-try-some-writing · 1 day

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Okay this is going to be super off topic but I had a random thought for the Mr. Pax au

So you know how June had a crush on Optimus? Imagine if June meets Mr. Pax and has a crush on him. Jack would be mortified and it would definitely make parent/teacher conferences a little bit awkward

Boy oh boy I bet it is awkward.

Previous post here.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

Elita may have been new to Earth, but even she could see the way the human woman stared longingly at her Conjunx. Of course, the one called June was completely unaware of the fact that Mr. Pax the history teacher was in fact Optimus Prime, but for Elita, that made the whole affair more humorous. Optimus had politely refused to acknowledge the occasional comments about Jack's teacher and Elita knew it was not her place to interfere unless things became serious.

She and Optimus spoke about the issue and opted to let it be until it became necessary to dash June's affection. But of course, that time came sooner than expected when the time came for parent teacher conferences not too long after her arrival on Earth.

"Jack is aware of your identity. What do you plan to do?" Elita stood at her Conjunx's side as he worked at the console. He turned away from his work and met her gaze. He smiled faintly and his optics cycled wide like they used to before he became Prime.

"A gentle message will suffice." Optimus's field wrapped around her comfortingly, with the barest hint of mirth. Elita recognized the concoction of emotion and laughed outright as he all but read Optimus's mind.

Orion Pax had not been a comedic character, but he was particularly good at the higher caste surprises that always left a mech gaping. Political intrigue was not something he generally enjoyed, but he was a fantastic player and knew how to put on a show.

"Do you intend to reveal yourself as well?" Grasping Optimus's servo, Elita watched a coy grin play on his features. How long had it been since she'd seen her beloved have any sort of fun?

"Perhaps. It would certainly save us all a few uncomfortable situations." Optimus grinned like he was a young mech again. Elita couldn't help but laugh once more and lean against him. This was going to be amusing.

━━━━━━

Elita waited patiently outside of Optimus's office and listened as he discussed Jack's performance in class. She watched the events playing out on a handheld device the humans called a 'phone' with a slight grin. June Darby was professional throughout most of it, but as the meeting progressed and Jack seemed to shrink in on himself with every passing moment, June finally made her move as she packed up.

"Thank you for your time Mr. Pax. If you don't mind me asking, could I possibly have your number?" Elita had to bite back a laugh as she watched her Conjunx pause in putting Jack's files away. The poor boy in question seemed ready to explode as he caught sight of the glint in Optimus's eyes.

"I am afraid I can't do that." Optimus placed his papers down and Elita took the opportunity to step into the office, the 'phone' put away and out of the view.

"All done love?" Elita was quick to wrap her arms around her Conjunx's shoulders as he sat at his desk, smug as ever. Not that anyone except Elita would notice the possessive nature that remained hidden behind his Primely visage.

June looked like she'd been slapped in the face. Elita couldn't say she blamed the woman. June was familiar with Elita's holoform. In fact, it had been June who helped her design it. The fact that Elita was here and being so openly affectionate with 'Mr. Pax' had to be startling through implication alone.

"As you can see, I am quite taken with my darling wife as you humans say." Jack seemed to have given up on life as June processed the information. There was a brief moment where June seemed to have broken something in her processor before it finally clicked and she gripped the desk in shock.

"OPTIMUS?!?"

Yeah, waiting around had been worth it.

#transformers #maccadam #transformers prime #optimus prime #jack darby #june darby #elita one #teacher au #mr pax and his darling wife are at it again #oplita #optimus x elita

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munsonsreputation · 10 hours

Note

hii! omg so i rlly love your writing its incredible. i have two requests but you can choose whichever one! the first one is an imagine w steve and the reader based off of call it what you want by taylor. orr a hurt/comfort imagine where the reader is basically comforting steve maybe aft he’s had a fight w his parents or something? again i rlly love your writing literally look forward for new writeups all the time!

at least we did one thing right

a/n: this one has been sitting in my inbox since forever and i managed to stir up this cute little thing. ciwyw is one of my favorite tracks of reputation and i can't wait to get the re-recording of this (hopefully soon!!!)

The party was in full swing, and by party you meant all of your close friends who are gathered in Steve’s living room and kitchen entertaining themselves while you and Steve hid away in his backyard like a routine.

His gaze flickered through the sliding doors, mock concern etched on his features as he mutters under his breath, “I swear to god, they better not pick the pineapple off the other slices.”

You turned your head to see what he was going on about, and sure enough the teenage boys were ravaging the kitchen like they hadn’t eaten in days. At this rate, they were like bottomless pits, and you weren’t quite sure how they were able to put away a portion of food without blinking.

Still, you snorted, swatting a hand over his thigh and garnering his attention back to you.

“They’re growing boys and their appetites are different from when they were twelve. We can order another if they’re still hungry.” You shrugged.

He shook his head, shifting to pull your legs over and across his lap.

“I ordered pineapple for you, and you should at least get to have one slice of it.” Steve insisted, though your orbs were too clouded with heart eyes to see the irritation he wore for the innocently selfish boys.

You pursed your lips into a tight smile, hooking your arm over his bicep, tugging yourself closer to him, “You’re so cute for someone who hogs all the blankets at night.”

He looked down at you, shaking his head with a mushy smile coming over him, “Hey you’re the one who likes the house freezing!”

Steve rumbles a string of laughter into the air, using his free arm that’s not being clung onto, to drape over your frame, practically wrenching your whole body onto his as you begin joining in the amusement. You give up on trying to get the upper-hand, letting yourself sit comfortably in his lap, your joined hands resting on either side of your bodies and you lean down to lay your head on his chest.

You snuggled deeper into the fabric of his shirt, inhaling the lingering scent of his cologne. It’s a simple pleasure of yours to be wrapped up in his arms, high above the whole scene, in your own little world like nothing else mattered.

“You’re my portable space heater, got all the warmth I need,” you declared, pressing kind kisses over his chest feeling his lips brush over your hairline.

Steve thought he must have done something right in this lifetime in order to give himself to you in a way he hadn’t given anyone else before. He doesn’t care that it’s simply you two sneaking away just to act like corny teenagers again. All of that fades into nothing when you look at him the way you do.

But before you could savor the moment, a familiar voice interrupted from above, followed by the squeak of rusty wheels gliding across the frame.

“Are you guys having fun out here without us!” Robin shouted, ringing out closer as she approached you both, but of course not without the presence of Eddie by her side.

You sat up, laughing, while Steve groaned and craned his neck to greet them. “You guys have to stop sneaking off to do whatever this is,” Eddie teased, gesturing between you both with a lighthearted smirk.

Steve grunted, “You’re just mad you don’t have a girlfriend to love on,” he shot back, pulling you down by the wrists to meet his lips in a messy kiss that left you giggling.

Eddie feigned revulsion and quickly retreated back inside, while Robin settled beside your bodies, her eyes twinkling with affection. “I still think you guys are adorable, even though this sneaking off thing is getting old.”

Robin had always been rooting for the two of you — there was just something about you both that made perfect sense, and when you finally bit the bullet, it was safe to say she was celebratory about the whole thing.

“We just don’t want to bore you guys with our public displays of affection,” you teased, sharing a knowing smile with Robin who threw her head back and laughed at all the times your friends would scold you both to cut out the lovey dovey acts.

Steve interjected, “Last time we cuddled on the couch you kicked us out of movie night…in my house!”

Robin rolled her eyes, pointing an accusing finger at him. “That’s because we could all smell the sexual tension between you guys. Seriously, just get it out of your systems before we get here.”

You slapped your hands over your flushed face, groaning behind them, “Noted. We’ll remember that for next time.” You promised, shaking your head.

Steve couldn’t contain his laughter, his eyes crinkling as he turned to his best friend with a pleading look. “Now, can you please leave and let me make out with my girlfriend in peace?”

She rose up out of the lounger with a grin, “If there’s one thing you guys did right, it’s each other… and I don’t mean sex!” With that she disappeared back inside, leaving you both to yourselves.

Steve gently pulled your hands away from your face, his soft smiling easing away any idling embarrassment that you knew was all in good fun. He brought your hands closer to his lips, spreading kisses across your knuckles that made your stomach flip with warmth.

“Well, at least did one thing right,” He murmured, raising his brows up at you as you blushed and nodded.

“We sure did.” You whispered, before cupping his cheeks and bringing yourself down to him.

Your eyes fluttered shut, closing the distance between your lips, fitting themselves together like a daydream. The jokers and the drama queens could take all the swings and call it whatever they wanted to — as long as you and Steve knew it was love.

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @the-alchemys @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3

#munsonsreputation #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve stranger things #steve harrington #taylor swift x stranger things #steve harrington x taylor swift

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dragon-kazansky · 1 day

Text

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season one

Chapter Ten - Duel at dawn

♡♡♡

Meanwhile, at the art studio, Benedict was still lingering around. Most of the artists had vacated the room by this point, but Benedict Bridgerton was still present.

"You have great potential." Henry said, coming up beside him.

"It's nothing," Benedict says sharply.

"Though, for such a staunch critic of others, you certainly lack a clear eye for your own work."

Benedict sighs. "It's the lines. Not what they're supposed to be."

"Take the compliment, Bridgerton. There is no expectation or judgement here. You left all of that back in Mayfair. You can feel free to be yourself here... if that's what you should like."

Benedict smiles.

"It's what works for me, at least. And I haven't been dissatisfied with my lines in... well, quite some time."

Benedict chuckles again. "Well, I've done worse, I suppose, really."

"Mm. Fair enough."

"I seem to have enjoyed myself too much this evening." Benedict looks around at the empty room. "I should be on my way."

"As you wish," Henry says nonchalantly. "But know you are welcome back any time for practice or even conversation."

They both chuckle.

♡♡♡

By the time Benedict gets home, Anthony and Daphne are talking very seriously in the hall. He stops and looks at his two siblings.

"What is it?"

Anthony marches over and grabs him by the arm. "You and I need to talk. Daphne, bed."

Anthony drags his brother to his study.

"I will need you to stand as my second," he says after explaining everything to Benedict.

"What if you get yourself killed?" Benedict asks. He wasn't exactly thrilled about what had apparently transpired, but even less so about the thought of losing his brother.

"Then the title and estates will pass to you," Anthony tells him.

Benedict didn't want that.

"And if you kill Hastings?"

"I shall have to leave the country, and you'll be head of the family in every way that matters."

Again, he didn't want that.

Chuckling I the hall draws their attention to the door.

You laugh with Colin as Violet hangs off the both of you. She's clearly been drinking a lot tonight. She can't even walk straight. You've never seen her so uncomposed before.

The door opens behind you, and Anthony and Benedict are standing there.

"You're clearly sover," Colin laughs with his mother.

"And I'm sober enough to know when you're being impertinent." She chuckles. "Good night, dear."

You giggle. Violet waves at you lazily, and you chuckle again at her inability to remain composed.

You turn to see the two brothers still standing there and nudge Colin. He looks at you and then at them. They wave him over.

"Good god. Did someone die?" Colin asks.

You look at Anthony, who glances at you, his sowlnt thank you for helping bring his mother home. Then your gaze shifts to Benedict, who looks at you with a strange expression. You wonder where he's been all evening.

Colin turns to you. "Get home safe, okay?"

You nod, knowing your maid was waiting outside. You watch him walk toward his brothers and then leave.

♡♡♡

You arrive early to the Bridgerton house the next morning. You had snuck out alone. You had hoped to be there early enough before Anthony left to duel the duke.

Unfortunately they had already left.

You had, however, arrived in time to see Daphne and Colin leaving. When Colin saw you he sighed.

"You cannot be serious."

"I am."

Daphne says your name as she looks at you. "You do not have to witness this."

"I want to. As your friend. I will not allow this stupid, and mind I remind you illegal, activity to take place."

Colin sighs and helps you up into his horse. "Hold on."

He spurs the horse on, leading Daphne to the agreed spot. You hold on tight to him as he rides.

All Daphne can think about is Simon.

"Anthont won't... kill him, right?" You ask, watching Daphne ride.

"No. Sound him, surely."

"Good..."

"Are you worried?" He asks.

"Yes. Are you not?"

Colin doesn't answer.

By the time you arrive within diat ne of seeing them, the two are already stood feet apart with their pistols aimed. It's Daphne who rides faster to get between them.

"Stop!"

Anthony fires his pistol as soon as she shouts, the horse his sister's on rears back and Daphne falls to the ground.

"Daphne!" Simon shouts.

"Sister!"

Both men run toward her.

Colin pulls his horse to a stop, and you both climb off, rushing to them. Benedict drops the pistol case and does the same. He doesn't have time to ask why you're here.

"Are you hurt? Tell me!" Simon demands.

"I am perfectly well, no thanks to you idiots," she says, standing up.

"What are you playing at?" Anthony asks.

"Says the man who just shot at me!"

"You just rode into the middle of a duel!"

"I require a moment with the duke," Daphne says softly.

Anthony tries to stop her, but she stops him in return. Benedict pulls Anthony back and says, "make it brief."

Daphne and Simon walk off to talk.

"What are you doing here?" Benedict asks once they're out of ear shot.

"I came to help stop this ridiculous display."

"You could have been hurt," he says.

"No one got hurt, luckily."

Benedict looks a little lost for words. You sigh and look at him and then at Anthony. The eldest looks at you and nods once, softly. His eyes then flick back over to his sister.

"We must resume before someone should find us," Anthony says to the pair.

Simon nods at him.

Daphne watches him walk and then says, "there will be no need to resume."

Everyone turns to look at her.

"The duke and I are to be married."

You look at her and then turn to the duke. You're not sure what they discussed. He stares at her.

The three brothers look between the duke and their sister.

Whatever they discussed, Daphne made up her mind.

When Simon does not speak against her statement, it becomes clear to everyone that the matter is settled.

Now you all just need to get home before someone sees you all.

♡♡♡

@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333

@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived - @ajdelilah - @aadu2173

@booknerdlife - @tamlinrose - @sarahskywalker-amidala - @cheryyluv - @louschan - @lou-la-lou - @cultish-corner

@hopshusushi - @katherinejess - @nannabug - @afunkyfreshblog - @f0x33 - @dd122004dd

@jupitervenusearthmars - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @captainlunaxmen - @winchestersimpalababy - @acupnoodle

@ms-fandomgirl - @fablesrose - @anyaisinyourcloset - @meowzerzstuff - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @crazymar15

@cosmixstar - @bree3parchen -

#Bridgerton shade of blue #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #female reader #dragon writes

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maraudersmyloves · 3 days

Text

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆｡ﾟ. ───

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x reader

Warnings: underage drinking if your American

Word count: 1094

Disclaimer 1: Everything on this Blog is fiction!!!

"join me?". :☆｡ﾟ. ───

You're giggling while running towards your friends, two bottles in hand that are getting shaken a bit too much. Pansy is waving at you from the fire she set up. It has to be her, the boys are too stupid for that. You throw yourself down next to her and hand the bottles to a grinning Theo. You get some cheers and claps when they see the alcohol and act like you've just won an academy award. "I'd like to thank Filch for being stupid enough to get distracted by a spilled Potion and Mary from Hufflepuff for getting me some booze. I couldn't have done it without them!"

"Toast to Filch," Blaise hollers- "And Mary!" Draco ads and everyone pretends to raise their non existent glasses while Theo opens the bottles. You could swear he has a glint in his eye and it's a little scary. You laugh anyway.

Pansy throws an arm around you and pulls you closer to her while you lock eyes with Mattheo who gives you a soft smile that makes your chest hurt. He doesn't smile like this a lot but it's gotten more frequent. It makes you want to punch him. It's so undeniably sweet and affectionate that you have to actively push down the urge to throw yourself at him, kissing him all over. You look away when your cheeks heat a bit too much to be explained by the small fire in front of you. His eyes don't leave you.

Theo passes the Bottle to Draco while Blaise and Pansy Gossip about a Boy from Gryffindor. From what you can tell, he's a creep. "Draco, pass the bottle." He mutters under his breath about how little he's had, "I brought the booze, i get the booze." He rolls his eyes, "Yeah, yeah."

You take a swing, feeling the burn going down your throat. You lean against Pansy who seamlessly takes the bottle out of your hands and takes a sip before passing it to Blaise. You frown when he doesn't give it back to you. Pansy turns to you with a sparkle in her eye "Wanna swim?" You smile and nod before glancing at Mattheo who's still looking at you. You quickly look away and stand up, "Anyone else wanna come?"

"Come?" Draco asks, laughing. Drunk Draco is a Dirty mind and you roll your eyes at the reminder "We'll go swimming. Anyone wanna join". You glare at Draco while saying the last word, who just shakes his head while laughing quietly. The others shake their heads, and Tom mutters "later." There will be no later, Tom doesn't swim. "Fine, more fun for us." Pansy gives you a look and you know what you're supposed to do. You both take off your hoodies and jean shorts to reveal the Bikinis underneath. She folds the clothes for both of you while you walk towards Mattheo.

You look down at him. His soft smile has transformed into a smirk as he looks you up and down. He meets your eyes, looking at you through his lashes. You smile while putting your Hair into an updo, "Join me?"

He shifts on the ground, pretending to think. He knows he couldn't say no to you, but he can't make it too obvious. "In a sec." You pout playfully, "Oh, come on! Pansy's waiting for me," you look over to see her somehow already making out with Blaise. You roll your eyes, she was supposed to convince him to join, not join lips. Mattheo laughs, "Looks like she's busy." "More reason to keep me company." He smiles and rolls his eyes while you beg, "Please. please. please. pleaseeee, Mattheo. Please. Please Pleaseeee-" you yelp when he stands up and throws you over his shoulder. When did he lose his shirt?

You squeal when he starts running towards the lake keeping a tight grip around your waist. "Put me down," you scream through laughing. He pats your leg as soon as he's deep enough for your hair to already be wet and you take a deep breath in, as expected hitting the cold water only a second later. The cold washes over your body and you swim back up, being deeper than you expected. You gasp for air and see him laughing at you. You splash water at him causing him to look at you like you just stole his favorite hoodie. "how dare you?!" He says through laughter while you try to swim away from him while also splashing more water towards him.

He grabs your legs and pulls you towards him, you yelp and push him away as soon as he lets you go. You jump at him and push him underwater. He grabs you and pulls you down with him. You open your eyes and see him smiling. The water makes his hair look funny and you have to keep yourself from laughing to not breathe in water. He pulls you closer, looking at you with a smile while slowly swimming back up.

“What are you laughing at?” he asks while laughing softly and your laughter just gets worse now that you can let it out. " I'm sorry, I just- You-.” The laughter makes you double over and hide your face in his Neck. You don’t even notice what you're doing but the close proximity makes Mattheo blush. When you finally calm down and look at him, he raises his eyebrow.

“Your hair looked really funny,” you raise your hand to mess up his hair and annoy him. He scoffs but lets you do your thing. You lean back, letting your hand fall to his shoulder and your breath catches. His arms are around your waist, you’re chest to chest and his messed up hair looks a bit too good. “What,” he asks smiling. You notice his eyes glancing at your lips and your throat all of a sudden feels dry.

He squeezes your waist and leans closer, “Can I?”

You nod, “Please.” He connects your lips and you melt. His lips are soft and perfect as you move against each other. It feels so right. It’s soft and affectionate in a way that Mattheo’s only around you. He tries to pull you impossibly closer as you slide your hand into his Hair. You pull slightly and he bites your lip, causing you to gasp. He takes the opportunity and deepens the kiss moaning when you raise your legs to sit around his waist.

Water hits you and you break apart in shock. Draco smirks, “get a room.”

#headcanon #fluff #writing #fanfic #harry potter #mattheo r #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle #mattheo #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle x reader

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oneofstarkskids · 1 day

Text

saturn

pairings: bucky barnes x reader

summary: bucky just likes to spoil his doll. you shouldn't expect any less on date night

genre: do you even have to ask anymore? ofc it's fluff

*not my gif*

it was your favorite night of the week. date night. you and bucky promised to spend one night a week just for yourselves. no missions, no avengers, just the two of you.

you would switch off planning every other week. today it was bucky's turn, and he always had the most romantic ideas.

you always loved spending time with bucky, but you especially needed it today. you felt inexplicably exhausted and wanted nothing more than sweet kisses and soft whispers from your blue eyed soldier.

his hands were resting on your hips and he had this teasing grin that told you he was up to something. "sam's letting us borrow his truck and it's already packed up."

you arched a brow, "how long are we going to be gone?" he kisses your forehead, "just for the night. don't worry, doll. i've got everything under control."

his words melted your heart and a smile spread across your lips instantly. "you can't tell me anything? not even an itty bitty clue?" you asked with a pout.

he gave you a stern look, "no, because that would ruin the surprise."

you groaned, but bucky just wrapped you in his arms and kissed all over your face, "you can wait a couple hours. trust me, it'll be worth it."

you grinned and shook your head, but you believed him.

he set you down carefully, "now go pack an overnight, so we can get out of here." you laughed and started walking away, but jumped as you felt bucky slap your ass. you turned around and shot him a glare.

the drive down was long and unfamiliar. you practically sighed in relief when bucky finally stopped the vehicle and turned off the engine.

you stepped out to stretch your legs and look around, but there was nothing to see. nothing but miles of fields and distant trees.

"hey, bucky?" you shouted to him as he got out too.

"yeah?" he shouted back, digging in the cargo bed for something.

"did you drag me out here to murder me?" you joke bluntly.

you turn to meet his disappointed scowl. "really?" he asks as you walk towards him.

you laugh, "i'm kidding! but seriously, what are we doing all the way out here?

bucky starts unfolding blankets and making a pallet in the back of the truck, "well, ever since we watched the one movie about the girl who falls in love with the boy but doesn't tell him she's dying, you haven't stopped talking about how romantic star-gazing is. so..."

he pulls out a large telescope and has the cutest grin on his face. you can hardly contain your excitement, "bucky! that's so sweet!" he gently sets the device down before you run into his arms.

"anything for you, doll face," he chuckles and places a kiss on your temple.

you help him finish setting the scene before laying in his arms and talking for a couple of hours. and of course, he brought snacks. could he be anymore perfect?

once it finally gets dark enough for you to see the stars, you look up in awe. you'd lost complete track of time with bucky. he stands up in the bed of the truck and reaches for your hand to lift you to your feet.

bucky brings you close and positions the telescope just right for you. he stands right up against you as you gaze at the sparkling sky. every now and then you'll ask him about a constellation and he'll look at this book that he brought along to give you the answers.

one could say it was the perfect date, but what really made it perfect was him.

a/n: i low key rushed the ending but its fiiiine. it's 4 am, give me a break.

#marvel #mcu #fanfiction #avengers #marvel fluff #bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #a walk to remember mentioned!!#saturn sza

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cmncisspnandmore · 3 days

Text

One Night Stand: Part 8

Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley X Reader

Warnings: Preterm babies? mentions of medical things.

Word Count: 2k

New to the series? Catch up here: 7

Getting into the wheelchair was the most humbling thing you had ever done in your life. You had really taken for granted how easy walking around when you were pregnant was. Now as the nurse and Simon held onto your arms and helped you into the wheelchair as you gasped in pain, your entire body shook with the effort. As they carefully lowered you into the wheelchair, you caught a glance of Simon's face. His face was slightly pale, his eyes worried as he watched you.

He looked like he was the one who could pass out at any moment, not you. “There we go, you alright?” the bubbly red headed nurse asks. She straightens up after she puts the foot rests down, her badge clip clinking together. Kelsey, her name was Kelsey.

“Yeah, i didn't expect it to feel like that…” You mumble, and she gives you a soft smile.

“Kinda like your organs are just gonna fall right out of you?” She smiles, and you can't help but laugh.

“Yeah, pretty much. It wasn't painful, just really uncomfortable… But I'm okay.”

“You sure?” Simon's voice is rough, his brow still pinched as he listens to the conversation between you and Kelsey.

“I’m fine Si, I promise.”

He doesn't reply, he just gives you another once over before stepping out of the way so Kelsey can wheel you out of the room. The hallways were long and white, a few vitals carts hanging around. Nurses passed every few moments as they went about their days. A few pressed themselves against the wall as Simon walked by. His large form takes up most of the hallway. He was the poster of intimidating, all muscle and an impassive face to match.

As we reach the end of the hall our nurse Kelsey waves her badge in front of a sensor that controls the large windowless doors in front of us. As the door slowly open the soft hum of white noise and beeping monitors fill your ears.

“This is the NICU, its where we keep my personal favorite patients,” kelsey smiles as she pushes me through the doors. There's a typical nurses station in front of us, but instead of the regular hospital rooms that you see in the rest of the building. There are two long walls with large glass windows that allow you to look into two rooms with 3 rows of incubators. Each room housed 9 of them, not all of them were full. Some were just waiting to be occupied. A few sets of parents stand around them, wearing pink overgowns, as they reach their hands into the incubators to touch their babies.

Kelsey disappears for a moment and comes back wearing her own overgown and hands one to simon. “You have to wear these, its to prevent germs from your clothes getting on the babies. It just helps us keep them safe. We also need you to use hand sanitizer before you enter and when you're done. It's important we do everything to keep them safe.” she explains as she helps you put yours on. You look over your shoulder as Simon attempts to put on the overgown, its stretched tightly over his arms and chest. His larger than average form filling up most of the pink overgown. A small snicker leaves your lips as you take him in with the pink gown. He’s usually dressed in all black or dark colors. To see him wearing something so bright was actually funny to you.

You never thought you’d see the day Simon Riley wore pink, but here he was, stuffed into a too small overgown, small frown on his lips. You can’t help the small smile that plays on your lips despite the nerves you were feeling growing inside you. What if you couldnt handle seeing your baby like that? Would they look okay? Would they even look like a baby?

You had no idea what to expect, your stomach was turning as Kelsey gave you some hand sanitizer. After you and Simon rubbed it in, she wheeled you into the room, it was warmer in here than in the hallway. The constant hum of the machinery louder, as she pushed you towards the last incubator on the left. It was a large plastic box, with 4 little circle windows, a soft yellow glow emitting from a light on top. As you get closer you can see some of the stuff inside A soft pink blanket, and the smallest baby you have ever seen. They wore a hat so small you weren't sure if it was even possible for them to call it a baby's hat. It seemed more fit for a doll.

Your daughter laid in the center of the incubator, an array of tubes and wires connected to her too small body. Her eyes were covered with gauze, and she had a mask over her nose, and a thin white tube coming from her mouth. She was mostly still, the only occasional movement was her arms or legs moving in a sort of jerking movement. Her diapers were too big for her, even in the Nano- Preemie size they had on her.

“Shes… shes so small..” you whisper, your hand coming to rest against the warm plastic of the incubator.

“She is, but she's been doing really well. She’s been stable since we put her on the oxygen and she hasn't shown any signs of distress since. I think she's got a real chance.” Kelsey smiles as she looks between you and Simon.

“If you want you can reach in through the little windows, just try not jostle any of the wires,” she smiles, as she walks over to another family standing around an incubator.

Simon stands behind the wheelchair, his hands coming to rest on your shoulder. He's quiet for a few moments, the warmth of his large hands seeping into the fabric of the hospital gown. You shove down the emotions that are bubbling up inside of you, taking a deep breath you lean forward in the wheelchair. A dull ache pulling at your lower stomach as you carefully move yourself towards the edge. Your hand shakes a little as you reach your hand up and through the small open window. You hesitate, your hand hovering over your daughter's tiny frame. The only place where she didn't have monitors and iv’s was her small hand. It was no bigger than your thumb nail. Barely big enough for the tip of your finger to fit in, taking a deep breath you gently touch her tiny hand with the tip of your finger.

Reflexively she grabs onto your fingertip, her tiny fingers gripping the tip of your finger. Emotion clogs your throat, but it's not you who makes a sound, instead it's Simon. It was quiet, and if you hadn't become accustomed to him over the past few months you never would’ve mistaken his sharp intake as annoyance. But you knew better, it was him trying to keep himself together. You glance over your shoulder and notice his brown eyes are glassy. A single tear falling down his cheek and dripping onto the pink overgown.

“Simon…” you whisper, reaching your other hand up to rest on his hand that is still firmly in place on your shoulder.

“Sorry..” he mumbles, wiping his hand across his eyes, before he clears his throat.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” You smile softly at him, “Come over here.”

Simon hesitates, but moves a little closer, coming to stand on the side of the wheelchair, you can feel the tension rolling off him in waves. His entire body was stiff, every movement seemed almost painfully slow.

You pull your hand out of the incubator and grab Simon's much larger hand, “It's okay, you won't hurt her.”

Simon's brown eyes searched your face, looking for any signs that it was a bad idea, he was so much larger than her, even you. His hands weren't the gentlest, and they had done terrible things for many years. How could he possibly touch something so small, something so innocent. His heart hammered wildly in his chest as you gently guided his hand into the incubator. As his index finger touched her small hand she grabbed it just like she had yours.

“See? You didn't hurt her,” you smile, leaning your head against his upper arm. You hated to admit it but even this small venture had you drained. The events of the past 24 hours are catching up to you fast. Your body was starting to hurt, and sitting was uncomfortable but you didn't want to leave.

How could you?

The image of Simon standing in front of the incubator was something you wanted burnt into your brain for the rest of your life. His hand, which was larger than your daughter's entire body, hovering over her as her hand gripped his finger. After a few moments, Simon pulled his hand out and looked down at you. His brow slightly furrowed as he took in your expression.

“Are you okay?” He asks, his fingers catching the side of your chin and tipping it up so he could see your face better.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you force a small smile, but Simon sees right through you.

“Don’t lie to me, you just had major surgery,” he grunts softly, his hand sliding to rest against your cheek. You instinctively lean into him, his palm warm and comforting.

“I’m just tired, and a little sore, but I don't want to leave her…” You whisper, your eyes falling shut. You were more than just a little sore, whatever pain meds they had given you were definitely wearing off. You could feel the incision now, it was a dull constant ache. But the headache that was starting to form behind your eyes was worse. It was like someone was taking an ice pick to the space behind your eyes.

“You need rest,” Simon frowns, his brown eyes trailing across your face, “we’ll come back later okay?”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, and give a small nod. As much as you didn't want to leave you knew it was best that you got some rest. You weren't any good to anyone if you didn't heal. But it didn't stop the nagging feeling in your chest when Simon carefully pushed the wheelchair out of the room.

Once you're in the hallway Simon helps you take the overgown off, he throws the light pink objects in the trash and turns back to you.

“Ready?” He asks, “You can go take a nap and we can come back okay?”

Would they let you?

Did they have visiting hours here?

God why hadn't you researched the hospitals sooner?

What if something happened while you were resting?

What if she stopped breathing?

What if she died....

She was so small, so fragile, so breakable.

And it was all your fault. You couldn't do the one thing you were supposed to. You were supposed to keep her safe until she was strong enough. Your body was supposed to nourish her and carry her until she was bigger. She was too little. Who would protect her now that you, the person who's supposed to, couldn't.

“Hey,” Simon's thumb sweeps under your eye, “why are you crying?”

“It’s my fault…” You sob, tears falling rapidly now. “This is all my fault.”

“Love..” Simon whispers, now kneeling on the floor in front of the wheelchair. One hand resting on your knee the other on your cheek as he wipes away the flood of tears.

“None of this was your fault,” he grabs your chin, forcing your eyes to his. “None of it okay? You didn't do anything to cause this. It wasn't something we could have stopped okay? No one is blaming you, and I know that she won't either. Whatever happens, we’ll get through this okay? We’ll get through it together.”

“Okay…” You managed to breathe out but the tears didn't stop, and neither did the guilt eating a hole in your chest.

Next Part:

Taglist: @coffeeandtealol, @natashamea18, @itsmytimetoodream @humanities-cutest @ajrfanz @jggykhug09090 @dedicateeverythingtomilkshake @ashreblogsnow @liwooa

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #simon x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon #x reader #cod #cod x reader #Cod mw2 X reader #one night stand #one night sta #one night stand series #Dad #dad!simon riley #Mom!reader

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makeitmingi · 19 hours

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The Cat and Dog Game [Chapter 37]

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Comedy

Pairing: Yunho x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Chef!Reader, RestaurantOwner!Yunho, MaitreD!Hongjoong, Waiter!Yeosang, Waiter!San, Waiter!Mingi, SousChef!Seonghwa, SousChef!Wooyoung, PrepChef!Jongho

Summary: Yunho's dream was to open and run his own restaurant. But he doesn't know anything when it comes to cooking. Until you came along and accepted the job, bringing with you a small crew. How will the black cat tame the energetic golden retriever?

Word count: 3.2K

Chapter warning(s): Reader has a little meltdown/ anxiety. Read at your own discretion!

"Mr and Mrs Jeong." You greeted Yunho's parents outside the restaurant.

"Ah, drop the formalities, sweetie! I already told you to call us abonim and omonim. You're practically family!" Mrs Jeong pointed to her husband then herself, holding your hands in hers. You nodded with head, feeling some heat in your cheeks. There was so much love in her smile as she stared at you.

"And you look so beautiful as always!" She pulled you in for a surprise hug. You recovered quickly from the surprise, lifting your arms to hug her back.

"Okay, omma. That's enough." Yunho cleared his throat and gently pulled you back to his side.

"Oh, don't be so possessive son." Mrs Jeong clicked her tongue in disapproval, seeing how Yunho was holding you.

"Our table is ready, let's go in." Gunho informed. You smiled and waved to Gunho, who waved back with a friendly smile that made him look like Yunho.

"No, she's mine." Yunho squinted his eyes at his younger brother, moving you to stand behind him.

"Yun, what are you talking about?" You chuckled.

"You called him cute the first time you saw him at the restaurant. No, even worse, you thought he was cuter than me!" Yunho argued, pointing to Gunho, who just blinked in confusion. You can't believe Yunho remembers that.

"And until now, you still haven't told me that I'm cuter and better than him." He pouted at you. Gunho scoffed at his older brother before heading into the restaurant.

"You're the cutest and bestest to me, alright?" You cooed. He nodded with a goofy smile and leaned down to give you a kiss.

"We better go in." You said and walked into the restaurant with Yunho. It was a cute French bistro.

"Have you been here before?" Yunho leaned over to ask you softly as the two of you sat down in your seats and were handed menus by the wait staff.

"Just because I'm a chef, doesn't mean I know every restaurant, Yun." You laughed as you scanned through the menu.

"They have boeuf bourguignon! I know what that is." Yunho pointed at the menu. That dish had a special place in yours and Yunho's hearts, it was the first time you invited him over to your house and cooked for him. And Yunho will always find endearing how you fell asleep on the couch.

"Are you getting that?" You asked.

"Nope. I'll forever only have the one you cook." Yunho shook his head. You pursed your lips at him.

"Yun, don't say that. And who knows, they may make it better." You shrugged but Yunho was stubborn, shaking his head and looking at the other menu items.

"Have you decided what you're having?" Yunho leaned over.

"I'm thinking between the bouillabaisse, which is a seafood stew, and coq au vin, the chicken mushroom red wine dish." You told him.

"That does sound good... Since I'm not having the beef dish, I'll order the coq au vin. You can order the seafood stew and we'll share it?" He suggested with much excitement.

"You don't have to, Yun..." You smiled softly.

"I'm not sacrificing anything by ordering that. I'm sure they're both good." He smiled. There was no arguing with him so you nodded in agreement. You didn't know that Yunho's parents were looking at the two of you endearingly.

After giving your orders to the waiter, Mr Jeong ordered a bottle of wine and offered you a glass. Yunho wasn't drinking since he drove but you felt bad for turning down a glass.

"Cheers." Mrs Jeong toasted and everyone clinked their glasses before taking sips of their wine, water for Yunho.

"Actually, Mr and Mrs Jeong. I wanted to apologise to you." You spoke, putting your glass down.

"Apologise to us? What for?" Mr Jeong asked, blinking. Mrs Jeong tilted her head in puzzlement and even Yunho gave you a curious look, having heard this the first time.

"The other time we met, I apologise for leaving the party aburptly without a proper goodbye." You explained.

"Oh! That. Don't be sorry, silly. It didn't even occur to us." Mrs Jeong said.

"Still, it was rude of me and-"

"We understand, dear. Really." She cut you off with a soft smile, one that only a mother can give. You nodded with a grateful smile of your own. A lot of people knew what your father and your relationship with him was like, it wasn't a surprise that you didn't get along, especially with your stepfather.

"It wasn't your fault." Yunho said to you with a small frown, holding your hand over his thigh. You sent him a soft smile, knowing he really hates your father. Who doesn't?

"So, (y/n), tell me what it's like dating my brother." Thankfully, Gunho changed the subject.

"Yah, Jeong Gunho..." Yunho gave his brother a threatening glance.

"It's been great, actually. Yunho treats me very well, he takes care of me and is very patient with me." You said with a giggle, feeling your cheeks heat up. You were not used to expressing yourself like this.

"That's good. He better be taking care of you." Mr Jeong raised an eyebrow at Yunho.

"He is, I'm very thankful." You smiled.

"See? You two raised me well, I know how to take care of my partner." Yunho scoffed but had a proud smile on his face, hearing you speak so highly of him.

"Sometimes he's an overgrown, excited puppy, isn't he?" Mrs Jeong asked you. You stifled a laugh, nodding in agreement.

"I thought I was the only one that saw his puppy-likeness. Right from the start." You said between your laughs. Yunho stared at you with a done look, knowing you were always trying to push his golden retriever agenda.

"You're not the only one. Don't worry, we know what you're talking about." She smiled.

"Him and Gunho have been puppy siblings from the start. Even the way they used to fight as kids or now too, they're like litter mates chewing on each other." Mr Jeong chuckled.

"Appa~" The two brothers whined in embarrassment.

When the food was all served, you all dug in, starting with the appetisers that were ordered then the main course.

"How is it?" You asked Yunho as he cut into the chicken. He melted against your shoulder, letting out little sounds of happiness at the taste of the dish.

"That's good." You laughed, breaking a small piece of bread to dip into the stew and offered it to him.

"Thank you." He leaned forward and ate the bread that you were holding out. He pointed at your dish and nodded in approval.

"This is all so good, I love it. I can't decide which is my favourite." Yunho said, making you and his parents laugh. Even though you fed Yunho, Mrs Jeong noticed that Yunho cut a small piece of chicken and let you use your own fork to pick it up for a taste, respecting how you found such PDA awkward.

"It's good, isn't it?" Yunho nudged you lightly as you covered your mouth to chew.

"It is, it's done very well. One of the better coq au vins I've had here." You said. Yunho smiled, happy to know you like the dish even if he wasn't the one that cooked it.

"You're smiling like you're the one that cooked it." Gunho joked.

"Yeah, well I ordered it so it counts." Yunho stuck his tongue out at his younger brother.

"After (y/n) recommended it." Mr Jeong piled on.

"You're all bullying me, I don't like this." Yunho sulked. You chuckled and patted his thigh, with a comforting smile. They moved on to talk about other things, making sure you were included always.

"Excuse me, I need to use the loo." You forced a smile and excused yourself with a bow of your head. You entered the individual toilet and locked the door behind you, leaning against the door and letting out a shaky breath.

It suddenly became overwhelming for you, you didn't know why. Seeing Yunho's happy family. When was the last time you sat down to eat with your family without fighting?

But this isn't about you and your pitiful life. This was you getting to know your boyfriend's loving family, being accepted by them and-

*KNOCK KNOCK*

"O-Occupied!" You stuttered out, standing straight.

"It's me." You heard Yunho's voice on the other side and unlocked the door. Before you could say anything, Yunho made his way in, making you step back.

"Yun, you shouldn't be in here. People may think we're up to no good." You tried to pass it off as a laugh or joke.

"Are you okay?" He stared down at you, a frown of worry on his face. You looked up at him and nodded your head. He tucked your hair behind your ear, he wasn't convinced by your answer.

"Seriously, I'm okay. Don't worry, we shouldn't worry your parents by being away for too long." You said, putting an assuring hand on his arm. You didn't want Yunho to feel the need to comfort you again, it's what he is always doing. And that just makes all the guilt and doubt creep up your throat.

"Stop." He grasped your wrist and tugged you to him, hugging you to his chest tightly. You closed your eyes, enjoying the warmth and security of his hug.

"I love your family. They're so nice, you're lucky to have them." You said, words muffled slightly by his hug as you clutched onto him.

"And they love you too. They're your family as much as they are mine, okay?" He whispered, rubbing your back.

"I swear, I'm not jealous or anything about your family, Yunho. I don't know what came over me, I'm sorry. I'm just petty and clinging onto what could have been..." You shook your head.

"Which you have every right to so don't apologise." He held your chin and tilted your head up.

"I love you." He spoke.

"I love you too." You replied with a soft smile, letting him lean down to give you a kiss. Yunho was too kind for his own good but you loved him and didn't want to let him go. When the both of you pulled away, you leaned against his chest.

"Sorry, I didn't think the first time I'll tell you I love you would be in the bathroom of a restaurant." Yunho chuckled.

"Don't worry about it, this isn't the first time." You replied with a giggle. Yunho pulled back to give a questioning look, not knowing what you were referring to.

"Yesterday in your drunken stupor, you told me you loved me. Then told me you loved the cake I made." You explained to him.

"I-I did?" He stuttered, his cheeks turning red as he facepalmed. You nodded your head.

"Oh god. Why didn't you mention this to me?" His head fell onto your shoulder. All you did was continue to laugh, wrapping your arms around his head.

"You were too cute. But we should really go." You said to him, stroking his cheek. He nodded and straightened up.

"Wait, before we go back..." He quickly stole another kiss before opening the door to let you through, making your eyes widen in shock. Yunho walked behind you as you headed back to the table. The first thing you did was bow and apologise to Yunho's family for disappearing for so long.

"No worries. Shall we get dessert?" Mrs Jeong asked, not making you feel embarrassed or anything, playing it off as a minor issue. You hummed and looked at the menu.

"So, what's good?" Yunho, once again, leaned over to ask you.

"I'm not telling you." You snickered and hid your face behind your menu, playfully leaning away from him.

"But (y/n)~ I wanna share with you." Yunho whined, continuing to lean into you until he was practically draped over you while you were laying on the couch of the booth.

"Yunho! Let the poor girl go before you squish her." Mrs Jeong scolded her son.

"What can I get you all for dessert?" The waiter came. Yunho cast a look over to you, waiting for you to order.

"We'll share a crêpes suzette and and a slice of tarte tartin." You ordered with a small chuckle, you gave in to Yunho too easily. The waiter nodded and took the other orders before leaving. Mr Jeong chuckled, shaking his head.

"Do you always give in to him so easily?" He raised an eyebrow. His smile indicated that he was joking.

"Can't help it... I guess we just give into each other a lot. Sometimes without knowing too." You smiled with a casual shrug. Yunho nodded in agreement.

When the desserts were served, all of you shared your desserts. Mr Jeong had a small glass of digestif orujo (Spanish after dinner drink of alcohol, most likely Spanish brandy, served in a shot)

"See? Trusting you chef taste is good." Yunho said happily, eating a piece of the crepe.

"Grand marnier, an orange liquor is poured over and lit up. This is one of Jongho's favourite desserts actually." You told him.

"Would you like a glass?" Mr Jeong offered.

"Oh, no. I'm good, abonim. Thank you for offering." You shook your head, not wanting to take anymore strong alcohol. You took a bite of tarte tartin that was served warm with a scoop of vanilla ice cream then pushed your plate closer to Yunho for him to take a scoop off your plate to try.

"Can you make this? I like it." Yunho pointed to your tarte tartin.

"Sure, Yunho. I'll make it next time you come over and you can use different fruits too, whatever is in season." You laughed. Yunho clapped his hands excitedly.

After all the desserts and conversations were done, Mr Jeong raised his hand to ask the waiter for the bill.

"Actually, Mr Jeong, if it's okay with you, I would like to pay for dinner." You offered. Yunho's parents looked at you with wide eyes.

"What? Nonsense, (y/n). We appreciate it but we can't let you pay! Ah... how about, next time, you cook dinner for us instead?" Mrs Jeong waved you off with a giggle.

"That's a promise." You smiled. Once the bill was paid, you all headed out.

"Thank you so much for tonight, it has been great. I had a great time and the food was amazing." You said to all of them.

"Aww, you're most welcome, (y/n). We have to do this again soon, okay? Don't stay away for too long." Mrs Jeong pulled you into a tight hug. You melted in her hold, closing your eyes as you savoured the feeling of a mother's hug.

"Any time you need anything, let us know." Mr Jeong gave you a fatherly smile and tucked you to his side for a brief hug, just like how Yunho always did.

"I will, thank you. Have a good night, omonim and abonim." You smiled. You waved to Gunho, who waved back with a bright grin.

"Bye, (y/n)~" Gunho sang as he waved. Yunho glared at his brother but still gave him a goodbye hug.

As you all parted ways for the night, you and Yunho decided to go for a short walk at a nearby park before heading home. The weather was nice to spend some quiet time with Yunho.

"So, what did you think of tonight? I know my family can be... enthusiastic..." Yunho asked.

"They're great, I love them and I'm glad I got to know them better, especially your mother." You said, taking a seaton the bench.

"Yeah, she's a little... excited... to have a daughter to hang out with and do girly things together. You don't have to give in." Yunho rubbed the back of his neck. You shook your head, you were happy to spend time with Yunho's mother, it would be like all the time you could have had with your own mother.

"Actually, I-"

*meow*

"What's wrong?" Yunho tilted his head when you stopped talking mid way. You turned your head, looking around for the source of the sound. It was faint but you could hear it.

"You didn't hear that? Like a 'meow' or something..." You frowned, having heard it again.

"No, I don't hear anything. Or is there only a wavelength cats can hear each other on?" Now it was Yunho's turn to tease you.

"Ha. Ha. Very funny, turning the tables on me." You scoffed. You stood up, walking to where you heard the sound. Yunho curiously followed behind you.

"(y/n), be careful." Yunho warned. You stooped in front of some bushes, pushing them aside. Behind them, there was a small cardboard box. But before you could open it, Yunho grasped your arm to stop you.

"It's fine, Yun." You laughed and opened the box. It was hard to see so you used the torch on your phone to see.

There, in the corner of the box, a black kitten was curled up. It looked up and stared back at you with big green eyes. Yunho, with longer limbs, reached in to help you bring the box out.

"Look at you, poor thing." You gently reached out to stroke the kitten's head.

"Should we take him or her... out of the box?" Yunho abruptly reached in to try and grab the kitten.

"Oww! It scratched me." Yunho recoiled with a hiss of pain, looking at the little lines that the kitten left on his hand. Thankfully, it wasn't deep enough to bleed.

"You can't just reach in and grab it, Yun. Be gentle, you probably spooked the poor thing." You said.

In the end, Yunho helped carry the entire box with the kitten in it to his car. But he didn't want you to have it on your lap since it was dirty from being on the floor for god knows how long. So you coaxed the the kitten out and wrapped it in your jacket. You sat in the passenger seat with it in your lap.

"So what do we do with the little guy?... Or girl..." Yunho asked, leaning on his steering wheel.

"Well, we can't just leave it out there. It's just a baby, it won't survive." You sighed. The kitten snuggled into the warmth of your jacket, closing its eyes.

"Let's get some cat food and bring it home for a bit to get it warm." Yunho suggested.

"Okay, you hold onto it. It seems to like you more." Yunho said. But before he could start the engine to drive, you let the kitten go over.

"See? It likes you too. Just don't be too abrupt when handling him." You giggled, seeing the kitten curiously sniff Yunho as it balanced on the middle console of the car.

"Just hold onto it! I can't drive with a kitten in my lap." Yunho burst out laughing, gently patting the head of the kitten.

"Come here, the big doggy man is too scary, huh?" You cooed to the kitten while Yunho rolled his eyes and began to drive to the nearest pet store that was still open. The kitten comfortably curled up in your jacket again.

"Don't worry, you won't be alone again." You smiled softly.

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sqirtle · 2 days

Text

Small fic based on this!

---------

"So do you think a HUGE scissors sadness could beat a small rock sadness?"

Siffrin chuckled, but kept his gaze on the unfinished chair leg, "I think so, yeah. A strong Scissors craft done by a person can still beat a rock sadness, so it could work in a hypothetical sadness versus sadness fight, can't it?"

Bonnie hummed, "I guess so? You should try that sometime."

"Are you suggesting I go explicitly against precisely what Nille told me not to do?"

Bonnie giggled, "It's not like you don't do it anyway!"

Siffrin almost messed up their carving, "No I don't!"

"Yes you do! I know things, you know?"

Siffrin grimaced, "...how do you know?"

Bonnie laughed, loud and cheerful, "For starters, you've just confirmed it!"

Siffrin groaned.

"And also, you keep going out to 'fish', come back with no fish, and looking like you got mauled by a bear."

Siffrin gasped, "No I don't! I don't lose fights!"

"If you say so."

"I do say so."

Bonnie giggled, and Siffrin exhaled, finishing up another chair leg. He blinked, "Oh! I think I'm done with the chairs."

Bonnie turned away from the stove, "You are?"

"Yeah. I just need to make the table legs and assemble all of these, and I'll be done with Ms. Jill."

"Good," Bonnie says, "She sucks. I don't like her coming here so often."

Siffrin hummed, sanding the latest chair leg some more, "Are you almost done cooking? I can help if you're not."

They shook their head, tongue sticking out as they stirred the pan, "No, I'm neeearly done." They gently flipped the sweet potato fries, and promptly turned off the stove, "Ok, all done!"

"Did you salt the fish?"

Bonnie nodded, then the nod slowly turned into a shake of the head. "Forgot."

Siffrin laughed, and stood to ruffle their hair, "It's okay. I'll bring the salt once I set the table, then."

Bonnie pushed his hand away, sticking out their tongue, "Okay! I'll go wait for Nille outside!"

Siffrin smiled as they ran off the house, and set the table. The cute, nicely decorated fork for Bonnie, the plain darkless one for themself, and the one with the darkened handle for...

"NILLE'S HOME!" Bonnie exclaimed from the door, startling Siffrin into dropping the forks on the table, "Oops! Sorry!" They said, a nervous smile on their face.

Siffrin breathed deeply, and smiled at them both, "Hey, Peel."

Nille smirked at him, "Hey Crabfrin, did Bug here blow up the kitchen today?"

Bonnie groaned, "No!!!! I didn't!!!!!!"

"Results inconclusive. I was busy carving. The kitchen might just be gone."

"I didn't!! I didn't blow it up!!!!!"

Nille shook her head, fake remorse in her tone, "Wow, that's too bad. Guess we'll have to get a new kitchen."

Bonnie puffed out their cheeks, "Alright that's it. None of you get to eat my delicious and amazing fish and sweet potatoes."

Nille laughed, "Nooo! Buggg please let us have some!!"

Bonnie shook their head resolutely, "No. You were a crab. No food for you!"

Siffrin smiled, "What if I apologized and gave you a little kiss on the forehead?"

Bonnie paused. "..fine."

They sat down to eat.

Dinner was about as eventful as always, which is to say everyone spoke about what they did during the day (and when had Bonnie had time to do all that? Had Siffrin really been that immersed while carving?) and, of course, sent their compliments to the chef ("We MUST have someone else cooking here, the cooking is too good!", "Wow, you picked out all the fish bones? Thanks Bug!")

After that, Bonnie went to bed as Nille was on dishwashing duty, and Siffrin in drying.

"Did Mr. Flemming give you much trouble?" Siffrin asked, drying a fork and putting it away.

"Huh?" Nille tilted her head, passively scrubbing a plate, "Oh, nah, he was patient and all, he just had me wanting for long bouts of time in-between tasks. That's why I took so long to get home."

"Ah." She usually got home before Bonnie even started cooking, after all, "I see."

They cleaned for a few more minutes in comfortable silence.

"Oh, right." Siffrin said, "Do you want to come with me to watch a play, next weekend?"

"Sure," Nille answered easily, "What's it about?"

"I'm not sure, I think it's new? Something about a boy going inside of a book?"

"That sounds fun. Are we taking Bonnie?"

"If they wanna come!" Siffrin nodded, finishing up the last plate, "I don't think it's age restricted."

"Cool, we have a weekend plan, then!" Nille smiled, and walked out of the kitchen, "Don't forget tomorrow Bon has that playdate of theirs after school, okay?"

"Yeah, I'll pick them up." Siffrin nodded, removing his gloves and smiling at her, "Good night, Nille."

"See you tomorrow." She smiled back, and they both went to bed.

Sifffin sighed shakily under their cloak.

Bonnie never did go to that playdate. He refused to think about what happened to their little friend, and instead held Bonnie's hand tighter and they continued to run.

Chin up Siffrin.

Chin up.

#isat #isat au #isat siblings au #isat fic #in stars and time fic #in stars and time au #sqirtle.art #<- ITS ART TO ME!!!!#anyways guysss hi guys hi

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jediskywalkerblog · 22 hours

Note

I think the Briar series of her being obsessed with reader would be cute! Like a cute step mom fic ❤️

Thanks for your request anon, can’t wait to write this one!🥹🫶🏼

You meet his daughter - Hayden Christiensen

You're lay on the sofa cuddling with Hayden, watching your favourite movie on the TV when his phone goes. It's one of your lazy Sundays...

"Sorry baby" he says as he pauses the tv to answer the phone.

"It's ok Hay" you say as you snuggle under the blanket and into his chest a little more.

"Hey Rachel" You never know what's going to be said when his ex wife calls out of the blue. Maybe about money?

"I know its not your day, but could you possibly have Briar for the day?" you hear Rachel say down the phone... You've never met Haydens daughter but you've always wanted to, ever since you met him one whole year ago.

Hay looks down at you looking for your confirmation, you shake your head as you eyes light up. You finally get to meet Briar.

"I'll pick her up in an hour" Hay says before hanging up the phone. Before he can even say anything you jump up off the sofa in excitement. You get to meet mini Hay!

"Hay, I'm so excited, I can't wait to meet her" you say making him smile up at you before he gets up off the sofa and pulls you in for a deep, passionate kiss.

"I'm glad baby, we need to get ready... we have an hour." he says as he leads you into the bedroom to get changed out of your cozy pjs into something casual.

"what are we going to do with her?" you ask as you rummage through your wardrobe wondering what to wear.

"Was thinking the beach or the park, she loves them" Hay says as he slips a tee and some joggers on... you love seeing him like this, all casual and comfy.

"I guess I'll go with a dress then" you say making hay smile as he sits down on the bed and watches you with his prying eyes.

"you look beautiful, Briar will love you" Hay says as he pulls you in for a kiss... "we've got to go baby" He says before slipping a cap on, covering up his curls. You decide to slip your sandals on that go with your dress.

...

When the two of you pull up at Rachel's house you can't help but feel nervous. You're about to meet Haydens child... Hay picks up on your nerves and pulls you in for a hug.

"She's going to love you baby" He says before pulling you in for a kiss. "I'll be back in a second" Hay says as he gets out of the car, all you can do is sit there and wait.

About 2 minutes pass then you're looking out of the car window at Hayden walking towards the car with a beautiful little girl in his arms. She's wearing a little white hat and some sunglasses, she's the cutest.

As Hay is strapping her into her car seat he introduces you to her. "Briar, this is (Y/N), she's very special to daddy" He says as you turn around to wave at her.

"Hey Briar!" you say as you smile at her.

"Hey (Y/N)" she says as she waves her little hands at you. Hayden looks up and smiles at you before closing Briars door and getting into the drivers seat.

"beach daddy?" Briar asks, making the two of you smile.

"I told you she'd want go to the beach." Hay says as you laugh.

"Yes baby, were going to the beach with (Y/N)" He says as he grabs onto out hand.

"Can we build sandcastles with (Y/N)?" your heart is so full at this moment.

"I'd love to build them with you" you say making her face light up.

...

When you pull up to the car park Briar can barely stay in her seat, she's so excited. "Here we are baby" Hay says as he gets out of the car to get Briar out of her seat.

"Daddy! The beach!" Briar says as she jumps up and down whilst Hay gets the buckets and spades out of the boot. "come on (Y/N)" Briar says as she grabs onto your hand. You turn around to see Hayden smiling at the two of you as he follows you.

"It seems I've been replaced" Hay says as he sits down onto the sand with you whilst you help briar makes mini sandcastles.

"Sorry Hay" you say before kissing him on the lips.

"Its your turn (Y/N)" Briar says as she hands you the little bucket and spade with her little hands.

"My castle won't be as good as your Briar" you say as you fill the bucket up with sand...

The rest of the day is spent with a whole lot of sandcastles, sandy toes, ice creams, cuddles and kisses. You wouldn't want it any other way.

Hope you guys liked this one, I loved writing it🥹💕

- @jediskywalkerblog 🚀✨🛸

#anakin x reader #hayden christensen #star wars anakin #starwarsedit #star wars blog #starwars imagine #anakin fanfiction #anakin gif #anakin imagine #anakin x you #haydenchristiensenimagines #hayden christensen fluff #hayden christensen x reader #haydenchristensenedit #hchristensenedit #hayden christensen fanfiction

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carmyboobear · 18 hours

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ALEXITHYMIA CH 5: detergent, thrifting, and cake

Roommate AU: Carmy Berzatto x Reader

Chapter Rating: T (11k)

ao3 link, ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4

Chapter Summary: It’s his roommate’s birthday this week, and Carmy doesn’t find out until it’s a couple days away. Once he finds they’re unluckily spending their birthday alone, he makes it his mission to make their lonely day better. It’s the least he can do. Little does he know how much more he has to discover about them and about himself.

Tags: reader having trauma, carmy having trauma, toxic families, domesticity

A/N: It’s time… it’s time. I said last chapter was the longest…just kidding. THIS ONE is the longest, and it was hardest to write so far. The duo gets to have a lot of fun this chapter, though! arguably the most so far! A lot of domestic goodness and good food and shopping! Until… :)

also HUGE shoutout to @justaconsequence on tumblr for being my beta reader for this chapter! she was so kind and so helpful. this behemoth of a fic is too much for me to proofread on my own. anyway, thanks for reading and enjoy! can't wait to hear what y'all think!

Typically, by this time on Monday morning, Carmy's usually three cigarettes deep into paperwork, urgently (and poorly) calculating the sales the restaurant needs to make this week to stay afloat. Because even though it's a Sunday closing activity, he never seems to find the occasion to get around to it, and by 10 pm, he doesn't have the capacity to be crunching numbers.

Not that 8 am is much better. At least he's not dissecting the debt this morning—he's studying detergent prices.

“Why is this one, like, almost 20 dollars?” Carmy stops reading the price tags and glances over at his roommate, who's squinting at products on upper shelves. The lights are always too bright in this place. “And for such a small bottle…”

“Pre-mixed organic sulfate-free 100% vegan bleach,” Carmy reads dully.

“So stupid.” They shake their head. “Does grocery shopping ever depress you?”

“Usually,” he replies dryly. “Inflation is pretty depressing.”

“Don’t even get me started. Capitalism in general depresses me.”

“Hm, yeah. That too.” He sighs through his nose and tries to refocus. He's having a hard time processing all the numbers and letters today. “You see any unscented detergent? Somethin’ mild?”

“Um…” They crane their neck up and down, and then they crouch on the ground. They pick up a white bottle. “How's this? It's like, 8 dollars. It's not name-brand, but…”

“You know I don't care.” He kneels with them, huddling in close. They smell faintly of a sweet, yet musky perfume. He reminds himself to focus on the detergent, not the way they smell (even if it's far more interesting). “Yeah, this looks good. Thank you.”

“For your vintage denim, right?” They stand up to put the detergent in their shopping cart, which is barely separated with his stuff vs. theirs. He doesn't understand why his face grows warm at their comment, but it does.

“Uh, yeah. It is.” If the blush shows on his face, they graciously don't comment. “Although I'll admit I don't get around to washing them as much as I should.”

“You're not supposed to wash jeans that often anyway, right?” They lean their elbows onto the rickety cart as they push it, and he ambles along next to them, matching the slow, relaxed pace of their walk.

“Yeah, but I really…” The implications are clear. They fail in suppressing a laugh, and it makes him smile. “And I’m supposed to hand wash them, so.”

“Oh, so what you're saying is that you never wash them,” they tease.

“That is not at all what I'm saying.” They make an unimpressed face. “I do laundry, it's just…”

“Not often,” they supply helpfully. He tries to come up with something, but he's got nothing. “It's okay, I understand.”

“I promise I wash my clothes,” he mumbles, wilting.

“I know.” There's that new smile he's grown to recognize more clearly. It's this mischievous one they get when they’re teasing him, and it's so cute he doesn't have any room in him to get even a little irritable. “I've seen you do laundry maybe once or twice.”

“Hey,” he says, warning, and they laugh and run ahead of him, the squeaky wheels of the cart giggling alongside them.

After the night he almost burned down their apartment, he had felt different. It was like a switch being flipped, light abruptly filling up a dark room, and he's been squinting, struggling to adjust. But as he walks with them today, grocery shopping lit by blinding white fluorescents, he finds that he can see them rather clearly.

The connection between the two of them is tangible, palpable. It's workable pasta dough that's been kneaded to uniformity. The dough is malleable, clean, and when he touches it, sticky, glutenous residue doesn't cover his palms. When he catches at them peeking over their shoulder to make sure he's still following them, he chases away the urge to pull them into his arms. He throws the desire into boiling water in hopes that enough pressure will change those feelings into something more palatable. He's not sure if it's working.

Something happened when he hugged them that Saturday night. He doesn't dare name what that “something” is, but it's rising from where it's sitting at the bottom of the pot, just about to hit the surface—

“Hey, I gotta get some stuff in this aisle.” Carmy snaps out of it and follows them as they veer the cart to the left. He raises his eyes to read the categories on the sign.

“You bakin’ somethin’?” They both move out of the way for an oncoming cart.

“Yeah, was thinking about it.” They halt to a stop in front of the boxed cake mix and step back to fully peruse the shelves. He stands next to them, and they glance at him out of the corner of their eye. “You’re not judging me for getting box mix, are you?”

“Not at all,” he answers honestly. “Food is always better when made from scratch, but box mix has its uses. Besides, I’m not a baker.”

“That’s true, but I’m sure you still make an insane cake.” Carmy’s aware he can’t make them unsee his flash of a smile, but he still shrugs. “Sure, stay humble.”

“I try. What’s the occasion?”

“Ah, nothing much. It’s just my birthday.”

“Oh, okay.”

…And he's about to move on, just as casually as it came, but then the processing finishes.

“Why’re you lookin’ at me like that?” They ask confusedly.

“Is it your birthday today?”

“No, um, it’s this Thursday.” He exhales in palpable relief.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He hates at how worked up he sounds.

“Um…” Their face is twinged with guilt. “...There was never a good time to bring it up?”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be getting upset.” He sighs, shakes his head. “I just feel like I should’ve known, I guess.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s not your fault. I never brought it up. Um…” Their hands are fiddling with the edges of their sleeves. “I just have complicated feelings about my birthday.”

“Ah, I see. I get that.” That, he can understand. “Is it all the gifts and stuff?”

“Kinda. It’s a part of it.” They lean down to grab a box of devil’s food cake, and that makes him remember that they’re in a grocery store. Not quite the best place for a personal conversation like this. They’re being vague, but he won’t press. Not right now.

“You shouldn’t be baking for yourself on your birthday,” Carmy mutters. They smile at that, but it’s different. It’s heavy with melancholy.

“It’s alright. I’m gonna be celebrating with my friends this weekend, just not on my actual birthday.” His conflicted expression persists. “It’s okay, really. It’s just a day. It’ll be enough of a present to not have to go into work.”

“Put that back,” he blurts out. “I’ll make you a cake.”

“Don’t you work?” Their eyebrows are arched in surprise. “You really don’t—”

“I know I don’t. But I want to. I do work, yeah, but I’ll, I’ll get someone to cover me.” He’s never said those words before in his life, and now that they’re out, he can’t take them back. As a matter of fact, he doesn’t want to take them back. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Of course,” they reply quickly.

“Then let me do this. Please.” He has no idea where this courage is coming from. “I want to. I know I'm always working, but I really…” Their eyes are wide with wonder, yet watchful. It shouldn't make him falter, but it does. His heart stutters and whatever bravado briefly gripped him fades away.

“I’m…probably being too pushy right now. Tell me to fuck off?”

“I’m not gonna tell you to fuck off for wanting to bake me a cake,” they laugh, easing his worries like they always do. “C’mon, Carm.”

“So, uh, is that a yes, or…?”

“Just so we’re clear, I’m not trying to ask you to take off of work for my birthday,” they start carefully, “but I wouldn’t object to it. So, yeah. It’s a yes.”

“Okay.” He can’t help his giddy smile. There's someone saying you look stupid like this, but he’s with them, and it makes everything else silent. “Okay, good.”

“You’re…being super sweet about all this.” He doesn’t understand why—maybe it’s the way they say it—but hearing that makes his neck go hot.

“I mean…friends do stuff like this, don’t they?”

“Only the good ones.” They beam beautifully at him. He hasn’t done anything to warrant their affection, he thinks, but the feeling of their smile is so warm. He can’t resist soaking in it.

He's glad that lady luck blessed him just enough to stop their birthday from passing him by. He's been itching for an opportunity to repay them for all the bullshit they've had to take from him as of recent (although he knows if he brought it up, they would say it wasn't anything worth repaying). They deserve something good from him for once, not panic attacks and nightmares.

He just wishes he could figure out why they were going to spend their birthday alone. He knows them a lot better now, but there's still so much left shrouded. He wants to know them inside and out—he wants to learn what makes them tick, what keeps them up at night, what makes them happy. He wants to know all of it in its entirety, to fill in the gaps in the puzzle he doesn't have the pieces for.

He has some of the pieces. He understands that their relationship with their family to his—distant, strained, and difficult. Unfortunately, that’s about it. He doesn’t know any of the specifics. It’s not like he’s talked to them about his family outside of the off-handed bitter remarks, just as they have, but he finds that this fact leaves him dissatisfied.

He just hopes that they'll let him in. He's not sure if they will, but…he's gonna try. He has to. He's sick of not trying.

. . . . .

“You want to take off?” Richie’s staring at Carmy like he’s grown a second head. They're taking a smoke break in the back. “I don’t know what sort of doppelganger bullshit this is, but if you’re trying to pretend to be Carmen, you’re doing a shit job.”

“Very funny, jackass,” Carmy mutters. “I’m being serious. This Thursday.”

“All day?” Carmy grimaces, but he nods. Richie shakes his head. “You’re being weird. Really fuckin’ weird.”

“I know I shouldn’t. It’s a bad idea, but—”

“Cousin, no, that’s not at all what’s goin’ on here,” Richie interrupts, and Carmy’s at a loss for words. “This is the best idea you’ve ever had.”

“What?” Carmy squints at him. “Are you being serious?”

“‘Course I’m serious. I’m always serious.” Carmy decides not to comment on that. “Do you know how many times I’ve tried to get you off this ship for just one fucking second?”

“As the owner of this place, you’ve tried way too many times,” he replies dryly.

“Uh, as the original co-owner of this place, you don’t listen to me enough.” Again, Carmy decides not to elaborate on that one. It’s not worth it. “Take the day off. I was running it fine before, and I’ll keep running it.”

“No, no, we’re not saying that, it was not fine,” Carmy starts, but Richie’s already flipping him off.

“Whatever, I already know, new fucking system and all that. Don’t get anxiety or whatever over it, that’s why you got Syd hustling shit your way, right?”

“Uh.” Carmy didn’t realize that Richie had even been paying attention to the new hierarchy in the restaurant, let alone respecting it in any capacity. “Yeah, she is.”

“Then it’s fine.” Richie blows smoke in his face, and Carmy swats it away with a glare. “It was fine when you came in an hour late today, wasn’t it?”

“You guys knew I wasn’t gonna come in until later,” Carmy argues, defensive (although he’s not sure if there’s actually anything to argue about).

“Exactly.” Richie sighs all of a sudden, a long one that sounds like it’s bone deep. “Carm. Let me be straight with you. You need to do this. Okay? No backing out of this one.”

“Why’re you sayin’ this? What are you sayin’?”

“It’s ‘cause of your roommate, right? This Thursday?”

“...Yeah.” Carmy pales. “How did you—?”

“Fuckin’ knew it,” Richie says, grinning. “It was obvious.”

“No way. I didn’t say shit.”

“You didn’t need to.” Richie flicks the ash off his cigarette. “They’re changin’ you, man. We can all see it.”

“...” Carmy can’t deny that. He doesn't have time to ponder on that right now. “Is it really okay?”

“Yeah, you could stand to have an attitude adjustment.”

“I wasn’t talking about that, asshole. I was talking about Thursday.”

“Yes, for fuck’s sake, it’s completely fine.” Richie claps a hand on his shoulder, solid in its grip. It makes Carmy’s eyes snap to him, mostly in confusion. “So what’s the occasion? Must be important.”

“It’s their birthday. I mean, I could just go home early that day, but—”

“Yo, if you’re gonna take off, don’t halfass it—”

“That’s not what I was gonna say. When I’m here, I can’t seem to find my way out. This place…it just has a way of trapping you in.” He doesn’t expect Richie to nod, but he does. “I know if I don’t take the whole day off, I’ll never get out of here in time. Not until it’s too late.”

For some reason, that makes Richie laugh.

“Yeah. That's it.” Richie shakes his head as smoke trails out of his mouth. “That’s just it, man. You have to make time for the things that’re important. Even the recitals where you have to listen to five year olds play twinkle twinkle little star 20 times. You can’t miss shit like this. Because once you miss it, it’s gone.”

“Rich.” Carmy wants to say something to make that haunted expression leave Richie's face, but he doesn't come up with anything in time.

“Don’t give me that look.” Richie’s hand falls from his shoulder. “I’m just tryin’ to stop you from fucking shit up. They actually seem like a good person.”

“Y’think so?”

“I do. You?”

“Yeah.” Carmy doesn’t bother hiding his smile, even though he can already sense Richie’s teasing coming from a mile away. “They’re a really good friend.”

“Friend. Sure.” Richie snorts.

“Don’t push it,” and for some reason he adds, “they were gonna spend it alone.”

“Huh. Sociable guy like them spending it alone?”

“I know. I didn't ask. Maybe I should've.”

“Maybe. I dunno, cousin. Everyone's got their secrets. Especially the ones that try to act like they don't have any.”

“You're strangely full of wisdom today.”

“Fuck right off,” Richie responds in regular Richie fashion.

“I think they're like me. Like us.” Carmy's not sure why he's saying this on a Monday afternoon at work out of all times, but the truth bursts out of him beyond his will. Richie's expression shifts into something more solemn, something recognizable. “Y'know what I mean.”

“...Yeah.” Richie claps his hand on Carmy's back again. “Shitty parents club.”

As Carmy stands there in the back, feet sore and tobacco in the air, he sees his childhood in flashes. He's five years old again and is following Mike around with scuffed sneakers and untamed hair, although he supposes that unruliness never truly changed with time. There's warm sunlight filtering through green summer leaves. He hears his mother behind him, somewhere, but maybe he doesn't.

He thinks of home, of his bedroom, and it is cold. He has homework he’s failed to complete again. It's sitting on his desk, on top of all of the other shit he can't finish. There's screaming, and he's not listening.

He blinks. He’s 30, and he hasn’t talked to his mom since Michael died.

“Shitty parents club,” Carmy repeats hollowly.

. . . . .

When Thursday morning arrives, Carmy ends up greeting his roommate with flour in his hair and eggs sizzling on the pan.

“Um,” they say, just as Carmy goes “G'morning.” They both freeze, brief awkwardness circling between them before it dissipates with their breathless laugh.

“Good morning. I didn't think you'd actually take off,” they admit.

“I said I would,” he replies quietly, but it's not accusatory. How many times had he said he'd be home for dinner just for him to arrive when they're already asleep? He tries not to make empty promises anymore. Nonetheless, he understands their surprise. “Um, I'm almost done with breakfast. I didn't get to the coffee yet.”

“Am I supposed to be offended?” They laugh. “That's the least I can do, with you doing all of this.” They sluggishly shuffle behind him to reach down into some kitchen cabinets. “It's a special day, so I'll even make us pour overs.”

“That's true. It is special.” He peeks over his shoulder, pausing from basting the eggs in brown butter to see them setting up on the kitchen island. They gently place the hourglass-shaped glass onto the counter with a light clink. He silently switches the button on for the electric gooseneck kettle to his right. “Am I allowed to wish you a happy birthday, or should I not?”

“Hm, I don't mind. Just don't overdo it, which I doubt you will.” They pull out a bag of coarse ground coffee and a filter. As soon as they open the bag, he can smell the sweet scent of the light roast floating towards him.

“Okay. Then, happy birthday,” he says as casually as he can.

“Thanks, Carmy.” He studies their expression, searching for annoyance in their content expression, but he doesn't find any. “That's not even really what I meant by today being special, though.”

“How else did you mean it?” The eggs are done. He reaches over the hot pan to cut the heat.

“Well, y'know. I dunno if we’ve ever had a full day off together.” They're carefully scooping grounds into the filter fitted on top of the glass, creating a small hill. “I think I managed to catch you coming home early on my off days sometimes, but never a full day.”

“Huh.” Carmy has to take a minute to think about that one. “Yeah, I don't know either. I think you're right.”

“Then, like I said. It's special.” They seal up the bag of coffee grounds, and then they frown. “Shit. I forgot to turn on the kettle. Can you—”

“Already did it,” he reports, pleased, and his sense of accomplishment only doubles at their sigh of relief.

“Thank god.” There's the familiar clicking sound of the kettle reaching the perfect temperature. “Just in time, too. Can you hand it to me?”

“Yes, chef,” he says, because it always makes them laugh. Today is no exception. He slides the metallic kettle over to them.

“So what delights did you whip up over there?” They ask. They begin pouring the almost boiling water over their coffee grounds in a slow circle, gradually inching towards the middle. “It smells amazing. I want the full break-down.”

“The full break-down, got it.” On two circular plates, he's carefully placing a fried egg, thick cut bacon, and a slice of toast with jam and butter. “Uh…it's nothin’ special, just stuff we had in the fridge. We've got a, uh, brown-butter fried egg with a little paprika, sage, pepper, salt…”

“Oh, just an egg made with liquid gold, no big deal,” they imitate.

“Cut it out,” he snips back, but he's smiling and they know it. “There's honestly not much to it. This thick-cut bacon was in the back, so I cooked the rest of it. And the toast is just brioche with salted honey butter and blueberry jam.”

“Carmy. C'mon. That's nothing special to you?”

“I mean.” It's not quite nothing, he thinks. “I can make nicer breakfasts, is all.”

“That's what you said when you made me garlic bread, and that fucking blew my mind.” They set the kettle down with a thunk. The glass is full of dark coffee. Prepped next to them is their favorite glass mug alongside Carmy's. He's not sure how they knew that it was his favorite, but he doesn't question it.

“I'm just letting you know that you should wait to be really impressed.”

“Too fucking late, man.” He's turned around and placed the two breakfast platters on the kitchen island, and they gawk openly at it. “Holy fuck.”

“It's ready,” he says, surprisingly meek. He can't comprehend why anxiety's hitting him now of all times. He's served acclaimed food critics, top-security government officials, and celebrities more times than he can count. Before that audience, he never faltered, but in front of his roommate in their crumpled pajamas, his heart stutters.

“Oh, wow…” They regard the food with undeserved softness. Like a punctured balloon, his anxiety immediately begins deflating. They're staring at the food like it's a painting in a museum. “You seriously didn't have to do all of this.”

“I know. I just wanted to.” He feels heat on the back of his neck. “Is…is that okay?”

“It's more than okay.” Suddenly, he notices their eyes are puffy, like they were crying. “Goddamnit, get over here.”

He only registers what's about to happen for one second before they're hugging him. Their palms are on his back, and the top of their head tucks under his chin perfectly. He makes a small, surprised noise.

“I, I'm glad you like it.” He links his arms around them, allows himself to rest his chin on their head. With their face turned to the side, their ear's pressed up against his chest, and he's instantly struck with the paranoia that they're gonna hear his rapid heartbeat.

“I haven't even taken a bite yet, and I love it.” They lean back then, arms still wrapped around him and head craned upwards to look at him. It's far too intimate for what they are, and Carmy hates how his heart beats even harder. “Thank you for doing all this. Seriously. I…”

“The breakfast's just a side thing, I'm, um, still baking you a cake.”

“What? You're doing this and a cake?”

“Um,” Carmy repeats intelligently.

“Carmy. Carmy, Carmy, Carmy.” Their words ooze affection, but surely he's just imagining it. Their hands are crawling up his back. “God, I could just ki—”

“There's the timer,” Carmy blurts out, because his phone's ringing and so are his ears. At the sound, they let him go, and he grabs two towels to retrieve the two circular cake pans from the oven. A toothpick poked through the middle comes out clean, so he sets them on a wire rack to cool.

He needs to focus on the cakes. That's the most important thing.

“Oh my god.” They lean in close to the cake and take a deep breath. “Is this—”

“Devil's food cake, yeah.” The heat searing his face is surely from opening the oven.

“You—how did you—” Their smile is luminous with joy. “You really pay attention to every little thing, don't you?”

“Sometimes. When it counts.” He fidgets awkwardly, nails picking at the sides of his fingers. “Wanna eat by the window, or…?”

“Fuck yeah I do. Can you bring the plates over? I'll have the coffee over in just a second.”

Carmy sets up at their little table first, placing the plates just right across from one another. The morning sun casts a cozy glow through their speckled window, streaking planes of light across the floor. He patiently waits and watches them pace from the fridge to the counter, splashing cream into their mugs. Through the transparent glass, he watches the white fizzle into the dark coffee, blending into a warm brown.

“Just a tiny spoon of sugar for you, right?” They peek over their shoulder, catching his stare, and he nods. He's also not quite sure how they know that, either. They've had coffee in the morning maybe a handful of times before.

He supposes they also pay attention sometimes, when it counts.

“Alright, here we go.” They bring a mug in each hand and set them delicately down on the table. He notes that his coffee is the perfect color. “Oh, thanks for waiting. You didn't have to.”

“I, I guess so, yeah. It's just, uh, you always wait for me, so…”

“That's—that's true.” An odd tension sets in their face, but they laugh it off, and it disappears. “I guess I’m not used to it anymore.”

A part of him wants to ask further by what they meant by that, but they're already taking pictures of his food so dutifully. He doesn't want to ruin it, so he eats.

It's nice to have a solid breakfast for once. He had taken their advice from the other night and had been drinking milk with protein powder. It was nice not to feel like he was teetering the edge by lunch time, but truthfully, it was a bit unsavory. This breakfast platter is much more palatable. It also helps that his stomach pains aren't active today.

Time rolls by slowly this quiet morning, and Carmy recognizes the oddity of it immediately. It's clear to see when by this time, he's usually already done at least ten laps through the restaurant. An irritating signal in his brain is telling him that he needs to get up and do something, not sit around and eat, but for once, he doesn't want to listen.

A memory from roughly two weeks ago (or was it one week?) unearths all of sudden. He was up early, drinking shitty coffee and sinking into dissociation. Mornings were lonely, as he was usually the only one up, but not that day. His roommate came stumbling into the kitchen, awake from a restless night. They chatted before he had to head out, and he remembers wishing he had more time in the morning to spend with them.

He imagined a morning just like this one, with pajamas, food, and messy hair. He daydreamed about having all the time in the world, and he thought about getting to spend it all with them. Now he’s sitting in that moment he imagined, except that it’s real. They're across from him in their wrinkled pajamas and bedhead, contentedly mowing through their food. There's a smear of jam on the corner of their mouth. He takes a sip of his coffee, and it's perfect, just as they made it for him.

This amount of good should scare him, needs to scare him, but he just can't bring himself to care anymore. He wants more than nightmares, cigarettes, and floating just above the budget. He wants this.

He tastes his coffee and reminds himself that he’s still here. The moment hasn’t passed him by.

“Is it good?” He asks quietly. It’s a rhetorical question, it always is, but he can’t help himself. He wants to hear it from them.

“So. Fucking. Good.” They have to finish chewing before they answer. “You always knock it out of the park. If this is the prelude, I don’t know if I can handle what’s next,” they say, gesturing towards the cooling cake.

“It won’t be ready for a while yet. You have time to prepare yourself.” That makes them smile. All according to plan. “Got anything in mind for today?”

“Nothing glamorous. I was just gonna go out for a little. Go thrifting, maybe watch a movie later. Smoke a joint.” They shrug. “Just my usual sort of thing.”

“Mm.” He dusts off crumbs from the toast off his fingers on his pants. “Sounds like a good time. You still wanna go?”

“I do, yeah.” They stare at him for a moment, as if processing his words. Or just him. “Do you…wanna tag along, or…?”

Whenever they ask him if he wants to spend time together (whether it’s grocery shopping, smoking, or watching a show), they usually offer it with an air of nonchalance. Carmy’s assumed it’s been out of politeness, restraining their expression as to not put any pressure onto him. That’s the person he’s used to, not this uneasy anxiety, someone afraid to ask him to spend time with them.

It reminds him of himself in every way.

“I’d love to tag along,” he answers easily, just as they’ve always done for him. “I’ve got the whole day off, after all.”

“Right. ‘Course.” He watches their little smile double in size. “I promise to not make you watch me try on clothes for too long.”

“I wouldn’t mind. I like thrifting, y’know.” And you, he thinks to himself.

“You do? Oh, of course—” They make a contemplative noise to themself. “Vintage denim. I always wondered how you managed to have so many pairs.”

“Once you know where to look, they’re pretty easy to find. I can help you find some, if you want.”

“I’d love that. I realized the other day that I don’t have any dark wash jeans, so—actually, the truth is that I do have a pair, but they’re so fucked up and old that I never wear them anymore. Anyway, I need new jeans. Think you could find some dark wash blue jeans for me?”

“If you’re willing to hit up more than one store, then definitely,” he replies, just a smidge cocky.

“I’m willing to hit up even two more stores.” He pretends to gasp, to which they nod confidently. “Yeah. That’s right. Maybe even three.”

“We won’t need three,” Carmy promises. “I’m better than that. Probably won’t even need two, but…” He shrugs. “We’ll see what they’ve got.”

“Okay, Mr. Confident over here,” they tease. “Let’s see what you’ve got!”

They head out after they both clean the kitchen and freshen up. Carmy gets the flour out of his hair and rewets his hair to revive some of his curls. He silently thanks his past self for showering the night before. With the passage of the morning cold and the rising sun, the afternoon weather’s become brisk and pleasant. However, the weather’s barely a factor in how he’s dressing.

Is this too much? Is this not enough? He’s switching shirts and pants in the mirror like he’s about to go on a date. He knows he’s not, swears to himself that he’s not, but he’s put product in his hair and cologne on his wrists and temples. It’s not a date, but he can’t fucking decide what to wear.

He sucks it up and settles on a gray sweater, light wash blue jeans, and white sneakers. From under his collar and at the bottom of his sweater peeks out a brown button up. It’s probably too much, but this is his sixth outfit change. He’s fed up with it and himself.

After adjusting the gold chain that got hidden under his collar, he steps out.

He finds them already waiting by the door in this thick knit cardigan and fitted plaid pants that makes his heart stutter. When they hear him approaching, their head snaps up from their phone, and their skin sparkles with touches of makeup.

“You look really nice.” He has no idea how he let that slip, but he’s more shocked that he didn’t stutter once.

“Ah, th—thank you,” they stammer, fingers fidgeting with the edge of their sleeve. He’s not sure if it's their makeup or their skin that’s doing the blushing. It’s nice to see them being the one tripping over their words for once. “You look pretty handsome yourself.”

“Oh. Um.” Handsome? It echoes in his head. He instantly feels self conscious. So much for being the more suave one for once. “Thanks, uh…I just didn’t wanna wear my work clothes,” he lies in an attempt to ease his embarrassment.

“I gotcha.” He’s glad they don’t challenge him on it. “Shall we head out?”

“Yeah. Where we headed first?”

They take the metro to their personal favorite shop a little up north. The metro’s surprisingly busy for a Thursday afternoon, but the crowd forces the two of them to be huddled next to each other. They’re both standing close to a pole by the window, each with one hand wrapped around the metal.

As passengers come and go, they step closer to him to move out of the way. Eventually it just gets to a point where they’re standing nearly pressed up against his chest. He tries not to dwell on how that makes him feel, but he can smell the fragrance they put on, and it’s very distracting.

Luckily, the ride is short. Any longer on the train, he might’ve put an arm around their shoulder, god forbid.

“If we can’t find what I’m looking for here, maybe you can show me one of your favorite spots to go thrifting,” they say as they enter the thrift store. The interior is decorated, clean, and lovely, and unlike the metro, it’s not packed to the brim with people. It smells faintly of incense, and there’s local art framed all over the walls for sale. It oozes warmth and excitement, much like them.

“There’s a ton of shit here, so maybe we won’t need to after all.” He finds himself intaking everything at once, eyes flickering from sign to sign. “I’ve never been here before. This is really cool.”

“It’s my favorite place to find new clothes.” They trail down the racks, finger flitting between clothes. “I hope you can find something you like here, too.”

“I’m sure I will.” He’s already walking to their denim section and immediately spots some contenders. “I think I already have.”

He’s not sure if they mean to spend hours in there, but he certainly does. There’s more than just clothes to look at, although that’s what takes up most of his time. There’s dishes, furniture, cds, vinyls, books, even electronics. He goes back and forth with them, clothing articles piling up in his arms as they sit on battered couches together and peruse scratched cds. Everywhere he looks, there’s just more, more, and more.

“Okay, I’ve gotta cut myself off,” they say as they leave the furniture section. They’ve sat on nearly every chair in that place. “I already have so many clothes to try on, and that’s not even including the jeans you’ve picked out for me.”

“If it helps, some of these are mine.” Carmy flips through the layers of hanging jeans that have built up on his forearm. “If you can believe it, I even found some stuff that isn’t denim.”

“I’m not sure if I can, but seeing is believing.” They thumb through some long-sleeves he’s carrying that are seeping out from under the jeans. “I’m just glad you were able to find some stuff for yourself, too. Not that I was that worried.”

He hands them the jeans he’s found for them, all dark wash and in their size. To his surprise, they also hand him an article of clothing for him to try on.

“I thought you’d look good in this. You’ll have to show me when you try it on,” they say, and it’s innocent, completely meaningless, but as soon as Carmy agrees and rushes to hide in the changing room, he views in the mirror and sees his flushed face.

Doesn’t mean anything, he repeats to himself, over and and over. Stop getting in over your head.

He tries on his items of choice first. The first is a dark green henley that looked better on the rack than it did him, so he puts it in the reject pile. The second is a dark blue long sleeve that fits just right. It’s cheap, too, so it’s an automatic purchase. He presumes the way to word it is that it hugs him in all the right places, but he’s not sure. The rest are jeans, of which only one he decides to buy. A bit pricey, but for the brand and year, it’s worth it (although he basically always uses this reasoning with himself).

Now, for the piece of clothing they picked out for him. It’s a dark brown t-shirt that seems like it’s just the right length. It’s a muted, yet warm brown, a bit rosey in hue. He doesn’t realize it’s a v-neck until he gets it over his head and down his shoulders.

“I’ve never worn a v-neck before,” he calls out to the room next to him.

“Oh, are you trying it on? Do you like it?” Their slightly muffled voice calls back to him.

“Only this one so far. Um…I’m not sure,” he admits with a shaky laugh. The collar is lower than he’s used to. It dips below his collarbones, and between them dangles his chain. “Should I show you?”

“Yes! Hold on, lemme get some pants on. …Okay, I’m stepping out!”

He hears their door open alongside his. When they see him, their expression snaps into what he believes is surprise and delight. He’s sure he looks somewhat the same.

They’re wearing one of the vintage jeans he picked out for them—dark blue Levi’s. Although they’re rolled up a couple times at the bottom, it seems to fit them just right. As he stares, he’s reminded of his many pairs of Levi’s, and it’s more or less like seeing them in his clothes, which is. Which is. Uh. Yeah.

“I knew that would suit you,” they say with a grin, to which he realizes he can’t hide his blush.

“It’s not weird?”

“Not at all. It looks good.” They tilt their head to the side as they openly look him over, hip cocked. Something in their gaze is making him hot. “No pressure to buy it, of course.”

“It’s different from what I’m used to, but…” He looks down, smooths the fabric with his palm. “It’s kinda nice, something like this. Um, and what do you think about the jeans?” He needs to direct the attention off him quickly.

“Oh, I love them. The others ended up fitting not quite right on me, but that’s how it goes.” They move from side to side, almost twirling. It’s cute. “I love these, though. Just a little long, but I’m used to it.”

“That’s how it always is. I can hem them for you, if you want. I usually hem mine.”

“And he sews,” they say, seemingly to themself, but they’re looking right at him. Embarrassing. “If you don’t mind, that’d be amazing. Either way, I’m probably getting them.”

“Good. You should. They fit well.”

“Yeah?” They glance back into their fitting room, likely examining themself in the mirror, and then back at him. “Okay, then. Definitely getting them.” With that and a cheeky grin, they go back into their dressing room to try on the rest of their clothes. Carmy follows suit, grateful to hide his embarrassed face.

Carmy heads to check out with the dark blue long sleeve, a pair of jeans, and the brown v-neck. They’ve decided on the pair of jeans they showed him earlier and a little purple tank-top he wishes he got to see on them.

“Will that be all for you today?” The cashier asks him as he checks out first. Even the cashiers here are pretty nice, he finds.

“Oh, their stuff, too.” He nods to them, who’s standing right next to him.

“Carmy.” They glare at him.

“What?” He feels himself smiling.

“You can’t do this to me.”

“C’mon.” He nudges them gently with his elbow. “It’s my present to you.”

“Oh, so the present wasn’t the breakfast? Or the cake? Or helping me pick these out?”

“Why can’t it be all of them?” He decides to stop this in its tracks and takes the clothes out of their hands, sliding it onto the counter. “Just these two, and that’ll be it.”

“Just you wait until your birthday hits,” they mutter darkly, shaking their head. “Just you wait.”

“I haven’t told you my birthday.” He pauses. “Right?”

“I’ll ask Richie.”

“No, you won’t.”

“You’re giving me no choice.”

“You could also just, I don't know, not ask—”

“I wouldn't have to if you didn't force my hand—”

“You guys are cute together,” the cashier comments with a smile, surely a harmless, meaningless thing, but it shuts the both of them up. Carmy can already feel the impact of it on his psyche, and he decides to tuck away the surging emotions to unpack later. At least, he'll try.

“You really didn't have to get those for me,” they tell him when they're exiting the store. “But I guess I should just be saying thank you. So…thank you.”

“Sure. I mean, it would've been better if it was wrapped and stuff, but…” He shrugs. “Had to get you a real present, not just food.”

“Not just food, my ass.” That makes him laugh. “It'll be nice to have something to remind me of this day, though. That's one of the nice parts of getting gifts. Everytime I wear these clothes, I'll think of you.”

“Good. Yeah, that's…good,” he finishes lamely. He nods like their words haven't flustered him, but he's sure they can tell. They laugh, and he can tell it's because of his reaction.

“I'm sorry that the cashier said that,” they say out of nowhere.

“Why're you apologizing? It's not your fault.” Any embarrassment he was feeling before is immediately replaced with a new, more potent sort of embarrassment. He was hoping they wouldn't mention it.

“I guess that's true. I don't know, I just…” They trail off. “Just hope it didn't upset you.”

“Not at all,” he lies, and he prays they believe it.

. . . . .

The metro is less crowded on the way home. They sit comfortably next to each other and watch the city pass them by. A part of Carmy mourns the closeness they had on the way there, but the other part tells him to get it together and keep his distance.

“I'mma take a nap,” they say with a yawn. Their cardigan and bag have been tossed onto the couch. The new clothes have been thrown into the laundry machine, and there's the muffled sound of running water. “Maybe we could smoke and watch a movie later, though.”

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” He peers into the fridge to check on the cake rounds. Just as he left them. “Have a good nap.”

“Thanks, Carm,” they reply sleepily. “Wouldn't be a good day if I didn't get to have a nice nap, after all.” With that, they shuffle into their room and shut the door behind them.

Carmy spends the next two hours flying around the apartment, baking, cooking, cleaning. The sun slowly sets as he goes. He keeps his body and hands moving in hopes that his head doesn't have a chance to catch up, but it manages to keep the pace. It always does.

The crumb coat's fucked up on the left, his first train of thought says. He inspects the surface, eyes following the circumference of the cake. There's a little loose crumb. With the edge of his spatula, he tucks the crumb away.

The faint smell of chocolate wafts up from the cold cake rounds. He's hunched over the kitchen island, hands reaching between dark chocolate frosting and cake. The afternoon sun casts harsh lights onto the cake, and it glistens. He genuinely can't remember the last time he's made a layered cake. He's never been much of a baker, anyhow.

You're going to disappoint them, his second train of thought interrupts, running parallel to the other one at full speed. Who do you think you are? You don't make cakes.

He leans back, inspects his work. The crumb coats are perfect.

Fuck off, he thinks back, triumphant. Look at that shit. He runs his finger along the spatula, picking up congealed crumbs and frosting. He licks it off, and it's delicious. And it tastes good, asshole. So shut the fuck up.

You're being a nuisance, the thoughts continue. Carmy's pops the crumb coats in the freezer for a quick set. They don't actually like any of this. They're just being nice to make you feel better.

They seemed happy to me, he thinks, but he's faltering. He's washing the dishes, and the sensation of the warm water feels distant. They loved the food I made.

Couldn't you tell they were lying? He doesn't understand why these thoughts are rampaging through his head now of all times. It's not unfamiliar, but it's inconvenient. Keep this up, and you'll actually be surprised when they drop you.

Without warning, a memory hits him . As his hands drip with soap, he's reminded of playing with Michael and Sugar in the summer when he was five. Or six, or seven, he's never quite sure. They were outdoors at a local park, and the heat made the metal of the playground searing hot to the touch.

He was blowing bubbles, and the sticky mixture from the bottle was getting all over his hands. In his memory, Carmy watches the way the iridescent bubbles floated away and left little circles on the surface of the plastic slide. He can't remember why he wasn't playing with the others. He can remember the sound of their laughing voices in the distance, gleeful and delighted without him. He thinks he tried to join in, but it didn't work. It often just didn't work, and it was all his fault.

The memory ends, and Carmy's finished washing the dishes.

This is working, he thinks to himself. His hands are dried out from the hot water and soap. I swear to you, it's working. So just stop. Okay?

There's no response. Good enough.

He hears the door opening as soon as he's putting the finishing touches on the cake. With a damp paper towel, he carefully swipes away stray drops of frosting that fell onto the cake stand. He thinks it's best described as if a tiramisu was turned into a devil's food cake. It's not the best cake he's ever made, but it's definitely up there in terms of looks. All the components of the cake tasted good separately, so he hopes it makes sense in his mouth as much as it did in his head.

“Have a nice nap?” He asks before he turns his head. They're standing in the hallway, bed hair hastily tied back.

“Sorta. It was okay.” Their eyes are glued onto the cake as they walk up to the island. “Is this…?”

“This is for you, yeah,” he finishes for them. They take a seat on one of the chairs at the island. “It's a, uh, devil's food cake with vanilla mascarpone cream on the inside. The outside's this coffee buttercream…” He trails off, not knowing what else to say. He could mention the dutch processed cocoa powder, the expensive vanilla bean pods, or the endless sifting, but it feels too gratuitous.

“Wow…” They're still staring, as if it's not quite real to them. “I can't believe this is for me. It almost looks too pretty to eat, but you know I can't wait to tear into this.”

“We could, uh, have it now, if you, if you want,” he says hesitantly.

“I don't know if I could wait.” Their smile grows wider. “You even put candles on it?”

“We don't have to light them or anything if you don't want to,” he adds quickly.

“The candles are the fun part. I don't mind that. The song is…okay I guess, but…” They give him an expectant, excited look. “Were you gonna sing for me?”

“...Only if you wanted to,” he mumbles, suddenly stricken with embarrassment.

“Would that be okay? If I wanted that?”

“I wouldn't mind.” Not if it's you.

“Okay. Then, yeah.” They pull out a lighter from their pocket. “I’d really like that.”

Carmy cuts the overhead lights before taking out his own lighter to help them light the rest of the candles. One by one, the dark room gradually illuminates until it's filled with a warm, orange glow. The flickering flames cast shifting shadows onto their smiling face and reflect into their glossy eyes.

“Ready?” He asks quietly.

“I'm ready,” they whisper.

Carmy doesn't really need to clear his throat, but he does so anyway. He can't recall the last time he sang happy birthday to anyone, let alone by himself. This is the first time he's ever sung in front of an audience, too.

I can do this, he thinks to himself. I can do this.

His voice is awkward and scratchy. He never uses it like this, has never sang for anyone in his life. His ears burn, and he hates the sound of his voice, but he reminds himself to focus on their delighted little smile and warm gaze. The room is far too quiet for his voice, making the words painfully clear.

“Happy birthday to you,” he finishes singing, voice trailing off awkwardly. He's more than ready to finish singing now. “Uh, make a wish…?”

“Right.” The two of them sit in the flickering candle light for a moment longer, the silence thick. Carmy watches their face, their eyes boring into the candles with an expression he can only describe as longing. Then, they blow out the candles with a decisive blow, and the room goes dark.

He moves to switch on the lights. When he turns back to look at them, tears are streaming down their face.

“Hey,” he says softly. He props his elbows on the counter, standing across from them and tilting his head to the side. They're not meeting his gaze, glazed eyes boring into the dripping candles. “What's wrong?”

“I'm sorry,” they whisper with a sniffle, and it sounds like a reflex. Something about them suddenly seems so much smaller. “I shouldn't be crying.”

“It's okay. I don't mind.” That makes them smile, even if it's shaky. “Was the singing too much?”

“No, it wasn't your singing,” they say with a laugh. “Your singing was lovely. It's just—I'm so happy. You made today so special.”

“Yeah?” He fights the urge to reach over and wipe their tears. “I'm glad. I wanted to make it good. I…” He hesitates. “...I didn't like the idea of you spending it alone.”

“I didn't either. And I thought I was going to have to be alone…but then you—then you took off work, and you made me breakfast, you went shopping with me—even got me clothes—and now this—” Another rush of tears gushes from their eyes, and they hastily wipe at it with their shirt.

“You've done way more for me. This is the least I could do.” Before he can stop himself, his hand is brushing hair out of their eyes. They freeze for a split second, eyes finally flickering up towards him. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

“It's okay,” they whisper back. “Um…” They let out a shaky sigh, the sort of trembling sound that happens after crying too much. “I feel like I should explain.”

“You don't have to if you don't want to,” he assures them quickly, “but I…I'd like to know. If that's okay.”

“I want you to know. I, I do.” They open their mouth to keep talking, but shaky breaths continue to stifle them. It's hard to watch.

“Breathe,” he reminds them, quietly. He visibly takes in a deep breath, silently encouraging them to breathe with him. They follow suit, closing their eyes and taking a slow breath. Tears slip silently from their eyes. Gradually, their breathing becomes less of a staccato, evening out into something much more manageable.

“Thank you,” they murmur. He nods. They already sound a lot calmer. “I'm not sure where to start. I…I suppose I'll start with today.” Another deep breath. “I didn’t get a call from my parents today.”

“Ah…” The first missing piece.

“I knew they weren’t going to. But a part of me still hoped…” They stop and shake their head. “It's the first year that it's been like this.”

“What happened?”

“Uh…I went no contact with my family about a year ago.” Another pained, hollow laugh. The second piece. “I didn't even really want to—it was a complicated, shitty situation. My parents were being their usual shitty selves, and I just wanted them to apologize. It was over such a small thing, and, and I just…I don't know. I thought maybe I could fix things.” He's never seen them with such a heavy expression, etched with such weariness. “I just wanted them to apologize to me, Carm. That's all I wanted. And then they cut me off cold.”

Their voice is trembling again, and the tears are falling faster. The collar of their shirt is dark with moisture. Carmy hates that he doesn't know what to say. He hates just staring at them, silent as he tries to find the words.

Suddenly, he thinks of Michael.

“Michael never let me work in the restaurant,” he tells them. “That's why I went to culinary school. A big part of it, anyway. He just cut me off, didn't let me in no matter what I did, and it was…” He makes a vague hand gesture. “I felt insane. I was so fucking angry. I couldn't understand him. And I'm not saying that's anything like what you've been through, but…” He looks into their watchful eyes. “I'm sorry. I think I'm trying to say that I, that I understand. A little.”

“I…I appreciate that.” They give him a small, wobbly smile. He adores their smile, but seeing it through their tears twists something painfully in his chest. “He would've been lucky to have you. You're an excellent chef.”

“I am now, anyway.” He sighs. “Your family's missing out on you, too. You're…” Say it. Just say it. “You're a really wonderful person. I can't imagine…”

I can't imagine anyone looking at you and not loving what they see, he thinks suddenly, and he instantly realizes he can't say it. He can barely even comprehend that he just thought it.

He can't process this right now. This isn't the time.

“I keep trying to wrap my head around it all, wondering what I did wrong, what I could've done better… Sometimes, the conclusion I arrive at is that I must have done something to deserve this. That I just, I don't know, that maybe I'm just this permanent fuck-up, and…” They run a tired hand over their wet face, through their hair. “My parents fucked me up real good, man.”

There's something familiar about their words, and Carmy realizes it's because it sounds like him. He would've never guessed that under their easy-going smiles was a reflection of himself. He recognizes himself in their self-deprecation, the bone-deep pain. There was always a sense of sympathetic connection between the two of them, but he had no idea. He had no idea how far deep the mutual experiences went.

A part of him still can't believe that this is the truth, that this is what lies at their core, but then he remembers. He thinks about the night they were throwing up into the toilet. They were sobbing, crying into his shoulder about how much they hate themself.

“You know you didn't deserve it. Right?” Carmy's not sure when they started leaning in so close to each other. He's looking at their wet eyelashes with startling clarity. “You did all you could.”

“You don't know that.” Their words are so soft-spoken, but it still catches him off guard. “You don't know what happened.”

“You—” Irritation prickles inside him, his instincts itching to snap back, but he doesn't. He sees himself in them, and he holds back. “You're right. I don't know what happened. But I know you.” The shock is on their face as clear as day. “At least, I think I do.”

“I want to think you do, too,” they whisper. “But this—this messy bullshit is also me. I wish it wasn't. I wish you didn't have to see all this. I…don't want you to…think any less of me.”

“I don't think there's anything you could do to make me think less of you.” He doesn't resist dragging his thumb across a stray tear on their cheek. To his surprise, they lean into his touch. “Y'know when I almost burned down the apartment?”

“Oh my god.” They smile, and he feels their grinning cheek against his palm. “Yeah. Is it crazy to say I remember it fondly?”

“A little bit.” They laugh. It's quiet, but it's real. “Remember that talk we had after?”

“I do. Why?”

“You're allowed to mess up on onions,” he says softly. “It won't push me away.”

They stare at him for what feels like a long time. Their eyes refill with tears, but they don't spill. With a clammy hand, they shakily place their hand on top of his hand that's still cradling their wet cheek.

“Fucking onions,” they say finally with a wet laugh. Fresh tears drip onto his thumb, and he wipes them away again. As many times as it takes. “God damnit, Carmy.”

“No one deserves to have shitty parents, let alone ones that walk out on them.” He thumbs away more tears. “You being an imperfect person like everyone else doesn't justify that.”

“There must be something more I could've done,” they whisper. “Something I did wrong.”

“Maybe. But they're your parents, not the other way around. It's not your fault.”

“I know. I know that. I do. There just has to be a reason, because—fuck—the truth would just be too fucked up.”

“...And that is?”

It takes a long, still minute before they can get their words out.

“...It’s—it's that—” Their cries are verging on sobs, increasingly more staggered and uncontrollable. “It's that s-some kids—are just—some kids have parents that will never—never love—”

They can't finish. Their sobs have overtaken their whole body. Their body's hunched over the counter, curled into themself. Carmy can't think of a time where he's ever seen them crying so hard.

Without another word, Carmy pulls them into a hug.

They cry for a long time. Through it all, fleeting condolences pass Carmy by in his head, but they all feel too cheap, too meaningless. So all he does is hold them tight, letting them grab onto his shirt and soak the fabric on his shoulder. It's all he feels he can really do.

After a while, the tide subsides. He feels them wilting in his arms, exhausted from sobbing so violently. He doesn't actually want to let them go, but their sniffling nose sounds like it's completely stopped up.

“I'm gonna get you some tissues, ok?” He says quietly. They make a quiet noise of acknowledgement, and they pull back. He snatches up a box of tissues from the coffee table. He places it in front of them before grabbing them a glass of water.

“Thank you,” they mumble, voice scratchy. Carmy stands and watches as they blow through several tissues. The water gets downed instantaneously.

“Better?”

“Yeah. A lot better.”

“Good.”

“...I think, deep down, I know I didn't deserve what happened. Or just having shitty parents in general.” They sigh. “It's just easier to think that I do. That I deserve it.”

“...Yeah.” That resonates with a part of him he's not quite ready to acknowledge. “You're one of the kindest people I've ever met,” he admits quietly. “If someone like you deserves a shitty hand in life, I'm fucked.”

“Carmy…” Their smile is small, but genuine. “Thank you. I want to be able to genuinely believe that, one day. I'm going to try.”

“I know. I get it.”

“I know you do.”

That makes both of them smile, even if it's bitter.

“Thanks for telling me. About everything.”

“No, thank you for listening. For just being there for me.” They prop their chin in their hands, their elbows resting on the counter. “Y'know, this past year, I've been trying to find a sense of joy in all this mess. Sometimes it just feels so far away, like…like any happiness is just impossible. But I think I've found it. Rather, I've already found it.”

“Yeah?” Carmy looks at them expectantly, but he never expected this—

“I found you,” they tell him.

“...” He immediately fixes his shocked expression. He's at a loss for words.

Me?

“I never found a chance to mention it, but…my parents are the reason I decided to live with you. That's why I wanted to be your roommate, even though we were strangers.” They shrug shyly. “My lease was up on my last place. I was gonna go home, but then all that stuff happened at the last minute, and…yeah. I needed to find a place to live.”

“Seriously?” They just nod. “Damn. Uh…Yeah, that's fucking crazy. I had no idea.”

“At the time, I was miserable. I kept thinking to myself, ‘I can't believe how shitty this situation is!’ Don't get me wrong, it was fucking awful, but…it led me to you, so…it wasn't really all that bad, in the end. I got lucky.”

Fucking hell, he thinks to himself. Fuck.

“If you hadn't roomed with me, I wouldn't have been able to come back home for my brother's restaurant,” he says, mostly because he's so embarrassed that he swears his whole body's red at this point. Don't think about it. Don't think about it. “I think I'm the lucky one.”

“Can't we both be lucky?”

“I guess we can. Just doesn't seem very realistic.”

“Little too late to say that. It's already real.”

“...There's no other shoe?”

“Not that I know of. I think the other shoe's already dropped for us a while ago. Surely there's no other shoes left?”

“I hope not. I don't know if I could take another one.��

“Me neither.”

“...”

“Do you…want to eat your cake now?”

“Fuck, oh my god—I completely forgot! Yes!”

Just as Carmy planned, the flavors go perfectly together. Even though he knew it was going to be delicious, when he takes the first bite of the cake, relief washes over him. They seem to be overjoyed, inhaling the cake at dangerous speeds.

“You're gonna hurt yourself if you eat that fast,” he observes, both amused and concerned.

“Can't talk. Need to eat this.” That makes him laugh so abruptly he nearly gets cake up his nose. “This is the best birthday cake I've ever had, both visually and taste-wise.”

“I'm glad. Like I said, I'm not really a baker, but…I make an alright cake.”

“You make a fantastic cake.” They’ve got a bit of frosting on the corner of their mouth. “It doesn't get much better than this—eating a cake made by you.”

“Because I'm a chef, you mean?”

“No, not that. Not just that, anyway,” they amend with a cheeky grin. “Because you're my best friend.”

You're my best friend.

…

I'm their best friend, he repeats to himself. I'm their best friend.

He thinks about crying. He won't cry, but he thinks about it.

“Oh,” he replies intelligently. “...Really?”

“Y-Yeah. Unless, uh, you don't—”

“You're my best friend too,” he blurts out, and the anxiety on their face fades away into a relieved, beautiful smile.

“Thank god. That would've been pretty awkward if you didn't…” They shake their head.

“I've never been anyone's best friend before,” he confesses.

“Seriously?” They recover from the shock quickly. “Lucky me, then.”

“I thought you established we were both the lucky ones.”

“Oh, right.” They chuckle. “Lucky both of us, then.”

Carmy thought that life would always be the same. He thought that he was fated to a routine of nausea and nightmares, never quite close enough to reach a rest point. He thought that he was okay with it being his fate, because he never knew anything else.

He thought that loneliness, cigarettes, and memories would be enough, because it always stays the same. Nothing ever changes.

Until them.

He thought he had outgrown happiness, that his body had grown accustomed to living without it. That there was no longer space in his heart to withstand the weight of joy. But as he sits here with his roommate, chatting and laughing over a cake he made for them, he finds that's not true.

His capacity for happiness had never left. It had been there all along.

And with that, something in him lets go.

Carmy sees it all at once. It starts from the beginning—he sees the first day he met them, an initially hesitant meeting gone surprisingly well. He sees the first time the two of them smoked together, deliriously laughing through shared smoke. He sees them in the mornings, messy hair and wrinkled t-shirts. He sees them in nothing but an apron. He sees them in tight black clothes that leave little to the imagination. He sees them laughing at a joke that he didn’t think was all that funny.

He sees them in his dreams, red tomato puree bleeding from their gums. He sees them holding his trembling hands in theirs, soothing him back down from the storm in his hand. He sees them comforting him through his tears. He sees them sobbing, hot tears on their cheek and his hand. He sees them heaving into the toilet, whispering that they want to know him. He sees himself, embracing them tightly in his arms.

He sees it all. He knows that he can't avoid it anymore.

Carmy is completely, undeniably in love with them, and there is absolutely nothing that he can do to make that realization disappear.

…Some things, he understands, refuse to stay the same.

@zorrasucia @carmenberzattosgf @carmenbrzatto @thehouseofevangelista

#carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #the bear #jeremy allen white #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x you #the bear fanfiction #carmy berzatto imagines #carmy the bear #the bear fx #my fics #alexithymia fic #GOD. IT'S FINALLY HERE. THIS ONE'S A BEAST.#ch 6 is gonna be the climax..... it's gonna happen yall. it's finally here. hahahaha #anyway this one took so long to write because it was so revealing for me... as i'm sure yall have guessed. sigh.

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