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ticktokrobotsnot · 11 months

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Hurricane

This is part 1. You can read part 2 here.

Pairing: Carmen Berzatto x fem!reader

Summary: The upcoming bachelor party that Carmen has to cater causes some tension between him and y/n.

Word Count: 9.5k

warning: alcohol, mentions of throwing up out of nervousness but no one actually does, or even comes close, fighting, smoking

Three hundred thousand dollars, what kind of fucking moron takes out three hundred thousand dollars just to blow his brains out and let his younger brother foot the bill. What kind of cosmic douche does that to another person? Y/n would never say something like that out loud but she certainly was thinking it after Carmen told her about the debts that he apparently owes on top of the bills he had yet to pay. In fact, Carmen was barely scraping by, he cut his pay check till all he had was enough to cover rent and the bare bones necessities. Rather than cut anyone’s pay, or cheaping out on ingredients, he sacrificed almost everything for this restaurant, for his brother. And what did his brother leave him? A three hundred thousand dollar bill. Once again, what a dick.

“It’s not-” Carmen started. “It’s fixable.”

Y/n didn’t say anything, she continued to scrub the stop top and kept her face neutral when in reality her blood was boiling. It’s not her debt and she is completely free to run away before this ship sinks but she couldn’t help but stay. She had convinced herself that the reason she stayed was because this horrible and completely fucked restaurant was like a train wreak, you can't help but stand and watch it crash and burn. Definitely not because of any other personal reasons.

“We just have to keep our heads down and get through the year and we can get some money off of our tab.”

More silence.

They both knew it was a pipe dream, no matter what they did at the restaurant, they could only make an insignificant dent towards the impending debt. Y/n didn’t want to be negative when Carmen was doing his best to not crumble under the pressure so she looked up with a small smile. She wondered if the smile translated as an optimistic smile or a pity smile.

Carmen sighed, leaned against the wall and rubbed his face with his palms in an effort to wipe away some tension. Looks like it translated as a pity smile.

“Tell me something good, y/n.” Carmen mumbled through his hands.

It was like the words were lost in her mouth. What could she possibly say? What collection of words makes this shitty situation any better? The answer is none, sometimes words mean nothing. No amount of consoling or baseless optimism could make this situation look good. If you can’t make a shitty situation look good then you should at least make a shitty solution look good.

“At least you have those bachelor parties, you can knock off a few grand.” Y/n offered.

“Yeah,” Carmen agreed half-heartedly. Looks like she couldn’t make the shitty solution look good either. Y/n gave herself one more attempt to lighten the mood before she sewed her mouth shut, crawled into a hole and died.

“And let's not forget that your “loan shark” is your uncle and he won’t smash your kneecaps.” Y/n jokingly muttered, “Probably?”

Y/n heard Carmen exhale through his nose. Y/n lives to speak and live another day. After testing the waters for the past few months, y/n realized that in order to get Carmen to stop going into crisis mode she had to either talk about a solution or completely distract him.

“What's the payment situation going to be like? …What is the interest?”

“No …no interest, just a clean 300k.”

“That's fair, adding interest on a loan like that would be like throwing shit in a septic tank. When is the bachelor party?”

“Uncle Jimmy is coming by tomorrow to give the details for that stupid fucking party.”

One quality that has persisted through out the years was y/n ability to not know when to shut the fuck up. The trait was helpful when filling the silence between the both of them. Carmen liked to listen more than talk, he didn't have anything to talk about except depressing shit. So when the air was filled with anxiety and tension y/n did what she did best, make a damn fool of herself.

“You think there's going to be strippers?”

Carmen looked up from his hands and gave out a laugh out of shock and it sounded like music to y/n ears. She wished she could record it, he really did have a nice smile and she wished he smiled more. Good god, he looked so… so…

“There will be at least strippers.” Carmen snickered while hiding his smirk behind his hands. It's like he knew she was waiting for it and was depriving her on purpose. This was a good learning moment for y/n though, shock humor lands well with Carmen.

Y/n moved on to scrubbing the floor because she wasn’t able to look Carmen in the eyes after asking, “Have you ever been to a strip club?”

She didn’t even have to look up to know what kind of look she was getting. She heard a bewildered laugh and looked up and was met with an amazing view. His head was thrown back and his hand was running through his hair.

For a brief moment, y/n tried to convince herself that all of the embarrassment she put herself through wasn’t worth it but after stealing a few glimpses of him she could confidently say it most definitely was.

“No I haven’t. You?” He then straightened his head and grabbed a towel and started scrubbing too.

“Of course, I've been. I used to work in one, you know?” Carmen’s head shot up.

“Yeah, but I needed a career change.”

“You worked in one? As a… dancer?” Carmen asked not quite being able to tell if this was a joke or not.

“You call strippers “dancers”? What are you, 90? No, I was not a “dancer.” I was a bartender.”

“Hmm” Carmen pondered before adding, “I knew you couldn't be one, I saw you slip on air this morning.”

“My lack of coordination aside,” y/n rolled her eyes jokingly, “I spent a lot of time seeing the routines and stuff and I could never, I can barely run a mile let alone swing around on a pole. Those strippers are stronger and braver than the Marines.”

“I have a cousin in the Marines,” Carmen added while scrubbing a particularly tough stain.

“Tell him that he’s a little bitch.”

Carmen stopped scrubbing and gwaffed into his fist. On the outside she looked normal but inside she was scratching the skin off her face in joy. She really wanted to seal the deal.

“Would you ever be a stripper?”

3-0 favoring y/n because Carmen looked up at her and laughed, and not a reserved one. A full one with an open mouth and red face.

Holy fuck… what the fuck was she doing? She could be home right now rewatching a nature documentary to unwind. She should be asleep right now. It's 12am and here she is sitting with her boss on the floor counting how many times she can make him feel good. And the worst part? She was enjoying herself.

“I don’t think I would make a good one.” He said as he moved closer to y/n and scrubbed at another scuff mark.

He would make a great one, y/n thought. He has huge arms, a quiet but powerful persona, a sculpted face, and beautiful eyes. Y/n had to resist the impulse to say that she would throw all her money at him right this second.

“It's your eyes.” Y/n humorously pondered, “They’re too intense, am I going to get a lap dance or am I going to get into a long and meaningful relationship?”

Carmen's gaze lifted towards y/n, and she wrestled the urge to lock her gaze with his mesmerizing cerulean eyes. She wanted to etch into her memory the way the yellowing lights danced upon his irises, as they transitioned shades, but the flutters in her stomach were making her woozy.

Y/n was a coward, so unsurprisingly she looked away, but not before stupidly adding, “You could add a blindfold to your act, I bet that would make the girls go wild.”

What in the flying fuck was she talking about, y/n screamed in her head. Y/n had some nerve calling The Beef a train wreck when she was watching herself crash and burn and not being able to stop herself. It felt like an out of body experience, like she was watching someone else fuck up her life.

Carmen looked like he was thinking about something and y/n wondered if she would have the courage to pick up her last check after she got her ass fired.

“Judging by the amount of shit I have to deal with in this stupid fucking place, being a stripper is starting to look more and more…” Carmen stared at y/n for a split moment, “tempting.”

Y/n was glad that he had inadvertently stopped her from saying something really stupid but she needed a quiet place all to herself so she could squeal like a teenage girl.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, y/n was starting to notice how close they were and in order to stop herself from getting a sued for sexual harassment she forced herself to call it a night, and that was a tough call to make. Y/n smiled at Carmen before softly mummering, “Carmy, you’ve got a big day tomorrow why don’t we get you home?”

Carmen's posture straightened, and a slight haze seemed to veil his eyes. Rising to his feet, he extended a hand towards y/n. In the instant their palms met, a surge of thoughts flooded y/n's mind, realizing how deeply she would miss this touch once they released. The fleeting moment barely allowed her to relish the sensation, leaving her with only a passing recollection of his hand—warm, calloused, and undeniably strong.

After grabbing their stuff from the lockers, y/n glanced at her phone that showed 12:14am. The walk home was going to be a real bitch. Carmen did one last walk through before leaving. Y/n could have left after she got her stuff but she stayed for a bit longer. She leaned against the windows of The Beef watching Carmen leave the restaurant and lock the door. He didn't look a bit surprised at her still waiting for him, he knew she would always be there waiting. It was a tradition, they would close up and he would walk y/n to her car. He would wait till y/n car was completely out of sight before he climbed into his car and drove to his place.

“Where did you park your car?” Carmen asked while shuffling through his bag to find his own car keys.

“My car is at the shop, I'm going to walk home.”

“You're going to walk home after dark? It's like 1 in the morning?”

“It's 12:30 and it's not that big of a deal, and if I get tired I'll just uber the rest of the way home.”

“That's how people get kidnapped, y/n”

“Don't worry, even if I do get kidnapped, I'll still miraculously make it to work on time tomorrow, and I'll have an epic tale to share for years to come." Y/n joked. "Why don’t I walk you to your car for a change? Where did you park?"

Carmen hesitated, not because he didn't want to offer a ride but because he didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. It's just a ride home, it's not like ridesharing amongst coworkers is something new.

“Let me drive you home. This is not a great neighborhood.”

“My place is opposite from your place, I'm not going to hold you hostage. Go home, you have a big day tomorrow.” Y/n pulled up Google maps to see how long the walk would take, 35 minutes wasn't too bad.

“It's fine, I wasn't going to sleep right away anyways.”

Y/n shot a disapproving look. "Do you honestly think I was born yesterday? I mean, come on. You're planning to stay up late after a long day at work today and another one tomorrow?"

“Let me do this for you…Please.”

Y/n was contemplating beating his ass with one of the 2x4s lying around, how fucking dare he look at her like that when she is already holding her self back from jumping his bones. It was maddening. In that moment, the streetlight cast an ethereal glow upon his hair, transforming it into strands of pure gold. She couldn't deny the captivating effect it had on her. And that infuriating expression he wore, as if he had the power to make her surrender to his every whim, was driving her wild. If he had asked for her kidney with that look, she might have found herself on her knees, desperately clawing at her own abdomen to fulfill his request.

“Ok, thank you so much Carmen. You really are…kind.” Y/n tried not to look at his eye because she knew that she would feel another flutter and now she had an audience watch her throw up from overstimulation.

“It’s the least I can do.” Carmen didn’t have the courage to thank her for making him feel better about the restaurant’s financial situation so this was the best he could do.

They both walked to Carmen’s car in silence. Y/n had an unstoppable itch to fill the silence with some asinine conversation but she resisted. She knew as soon as she got home she would scream into her pillow for bringing up strippers and blindfolds to her boss, and she didn’t want to add more things to cringe about. They could be 85 and she would still pucker her face when remembering this night.

They finally walked up to Carmen’s car, and Carmen opened y/n’s door for her. Y/n had to keep from fainting right then and there, she was a grown woman and Carmen was doing the bare minimum by helping out an employee and here she was fighting a blush. He walked over to the driver side and started the car.

“You good?”

“Sorry.” Y/n hands were shaking from the nerves.

“I can't find the seat belt connector thing, it's too dark."

Carmen wordlessly grabbed the seatbelt from the base and trailed down the belt, softly grazing his knuckle on her collarbone before gently taking the buckle from y/n's hands and guiding it to the right place.

Y/n mumbled a soft thanks. They both looked away for a second, both of them completely floored by Carmen’s boldness. Y/n couldn’t take this anymore she needed to get out of here before she became a stuttering mess, “Let me look up the directions, I’m geographically blind so I need Google to tell me where to go. I've been working here for months and I still need someone to tell me to get home.” Carmen pushed his tongue against his cheek to stifle another laugh.

“Geographical blind”, who says that? That's literally the lamest fucking thing you could possibly say. Y/n was going to go home and watch a few meditation videos in the hope that she learns how to shut the fuck up.

The ride back was nice and quiet. Y/n was too tired to talk and she was starting to feel guilty for making Carmen drive her home, he should be even more tired than her. They finally pulled over to y/n’s place, and she sat in the car for a few seconds to ground herself before she looked over to Carmen who was looking straight through the windshield.

“Thanks again Carmen.”

“Will your car be back tomorrow?”

“The day after.”

“I’ll drop you off tomorrow then.”

“That's too much Carmen, You aren’t obligated to do this. I’ll just leave a little earlier so I can catch a train.” Carmen looked like he was not satisfied with that response. Y/n didn’t want to leave early because she liked her time alone with Carmen but she couldn’t keep imposing.

“I’ll drop you off, it's not a big deal.” He left no room for negotiation.

Y/n smiled at him before grabbing her purse. Carmen got out of the car and walked around to y/n’s side to open her door. Y/n got out with as much grace as a toddler, she really needed to go to bed.

“Carmen, you really are too… you're just too…” Y/n struggled to find a good enough word before mindlessly blurting out, “Good.”

Y/n couldn’t see his face because the streetlamp was too far to illuminate his face so she didn’t know if she made him uncomfortable.

“Thanks again, I’ll see you tomorrow Carm.” Y/n softly mumbled before walking into her building and while waiting for the elevator she saw that Carmen was still leaning against the car door. She gave him a small smile not seeing if she got one back. The elevator ride up was filled with y/n jumping, dry heaving, and overall panic induced mayhem. The second hand embarrassment was too much. The elevator dinged and she went into her place and looked out the window to really burn the memory into her brain. This is the exact date and location where Carmen dropped her off.

She was surprised to see that he was still there. Everyone at work knew what apartment building she lived in because she invited them over for dinner recently, so it wasn’t a surprise that he knew the general area on where to look for her apartment.

She flicked on the lights and picked up her phone to dial him and watched as his silhouette fumble around to find his phone.

Carmen spoke first, “I just wanted to make sure you…”

“I got home safe.” Y/n opened her window before giving him a wave from five stories.

Y/n continued, “Go home, chef, I want to see you bright and early tomorrow.” She saw a blur of what she deciphered as a wave.

“Night y/n”

And with that y/n closed her window and Carmen drove off. It was 1 in the morning so she didn’t jump or scream into her pillow like she intended to because her neighbors would kill her. So she settled for a shower and eventually passed out.

Y/n was not a morning person my all means and told Carmen as an off handed comment a few months back. He offered her later hours so she didn’t need to come in super early for prep but she could stay to clean up. She got ready and got to the restaurant at around 11:30 am, where she found Carmen, Richie and an older man seated on a table at the far corner of the restaurant.

Before she could slip away to make herself busy in the kitchen, she was called over by the older gentlemen with a finger curl. Y/n turned around assuming that he was indicating someone else only to find that no one else was there but her. She looked over again and pointed at herself and Richie rolled his eyes before kicking the chair next to him to indicate that she was to sit. Y/n took off her headphones and sat across from the old guy and in between the cousins. Carmen looked up and wordlessly gave her a polite greeting.

If this was money problems why is this old fart calling me over?

Awkward silence.

“Good morning.” Y/n started.

“Morning, did Carmen fill you in?” Carmen’s “uncle” asked.

"I'd be delighted to put a name to your face. I'm y/n," she said with a warm smile.

“I'm Cicero…” Y/n pretended to look a bit puzzled, “Uncle Jimmy, yes, yes, Carmen told me you were coming today”

No one filled the silence so y/n stepped in.

“As much as I love the mystery, I do have work to do…so…why am I here?”

Cicero spoke up, “Carmy’s got that catering gig at that bachelor party on Friday and we were wondering if you would like to help.”

“Catering to a bunch of drunks on Friday night, seems like exhilarating” Y/n said sarcastically. “I'll be there. I’ve got to the kitchen, I shouldn’t leave Tina alone with my prep-”

“Look, I'm going to be honest with you…” Cicero continued, Y/n glanced sideways at both Richie and Carmen but they looked as confused as she did.

“Did you work out front a week ago?” Cicero asked.

“I covered for Richie on Tuesday?”

“One of the guys, the groom, saw you and thought you…looked…” It looked like he was embarrassed to finish what he wanted to say. “They want you to be there.” Cicero finished.

“This is what you were holding off on, we’ve been sitting here for 20 minutes in fucking silence so you could solicit a fucking chef?” Richie said in confusion before laughing and leaning back to glance at Carmen on the far right who was visibly livid, which caused him to laugh even more obnoxiously.

“Be there and do what?” Y/n pondered, a flicker of concern crossing her mind. She couldn't help but wonder if this was how human trafficking stories began. She wasn’t really paying attention to either Carmen or Richie, but she could feel that it was getting tense on her right, where Carmen was seated.

“I'm just going to rip off the bandaid. They want you there to serve drinks.” Y/n couldn’t hide the look of bewilderment and relief.

“Jesus, you were making it seem like I was going to have to sleep with them…Yes I can serve drinks. I’ll be there” Y/n got up from her chair and Cicero added.

“Do you know what a Hurricane Shot is, y/n?”

Y/n immediately sat right back down, she let out a laugh and she was in decent company because Richie was also dying right next to her.

“They want that…” Cicero finished awkwardly.

Carmen looked up after trying to burn a hole into his table. “What the fuc-” Carmen fumed.

“What’s the pay like?” Y/n asked.

“Without you 5k, with 10k”. That made Richie stop laughing.

“Let me think about it.”

Y/n got up and walked out back. She stole a quick glance at Carmen who was sharing some choice words with his “uncle.” Y/n thought that she might as well get back to work. She was going to serve drinks no matter what but she had a feeling that she would get some resistance.

The rest of the shift was relatively slow and Carmen was in his office for most of the day. Around 8, it looked like there weren't going to be any more customers so Carmen finally got out of his cave and let everyone leave early. He stood with his back straight and arms crossed in front of his office, his eyes narrowed at y/n. Y/n thought she could not deal with the brunt of this confrontation by herself, so she looked at Richie trying to nonverbally communicate for him to stay. Luckily, Richie understood and stayed and it was just the three of them alone at the restaurant.

Carmen went inside and it was implied that the both of them should follow.

“I'm going to serve at that party.” Y/n whispered.

“Yeah, no shit you are.” Richie agreed while whispering a lot less quietly.

“It's 10 grand.” Y/n reasoned

“Who says no to 10 fucking grand?” Richie exclaimed.

They both walked over to the office. Y/n stood against the wall, it felt like she was being sent to the principal's office.

The silence was killing y/n so she started, “It's just one day.”

“Only a few hours” Richie offered

“Which is basically just a few minutes.” Y/n reasoned.

“Which is really just a few seconds.” Richie added.

More silence.

“It's a lot of money cousin, and y/n is up for it.”

“Yeah, 10k in a few hours. I mean it would be totally crazy to say no.” Y/n remarked.

“You would be fucking crazy to say no.”

“Yeah, Carmen, it would be pure idiocy to say no.” Y/n chimed in.

Carmen rubbed his temple and then looked up. “That is not happening. You aren’t doing this.”

“It's 10k, Carmen, and all I have to do is pour some drinks. It's like money is just falling on our laps, we have to take advantage of this golden opportunity.” Y/n added, “God helps those who help themselves.”

“You're religious?” Richie questioned

“No, but he’s Italian and they're religious, right? I thought it might help my case.” Y/n whispered.

“I can fucking hear the both of you.” Carmen was annoyed and y/n realized she didn’t really know how to convince him to let her help him.

“What specific issue do you have with me bartending at this party?” If she got to the root of the problem she could find a solution that helped ease his worries.

Carmen brooded in his corner. People didn’t give Richie enough credit, he was pretty good at reading a room and he knew that it would be better if he left Carmen to y/n.

“I got something tonight.” Richie spewed out before turning around to get the hell out of there. As he was about to leave he mouthed You got this? Y/n gave him a subtle thumbs up.

They both stood in silence hearing the sounds of Richie walking around the kitchen to grab his keys and get his charger in the front, and eventually the door chimed meaning that it was now just Carmen and y/n.

“Tell me what the issue is. Do you have safety concerns?”

“That's one of many concerns.” Carmen knew he was being difficult but he couldn’t let this happen.

“I'm just pouring drinks, I'm not going to be doing anything super dangerous.”

“You are going to be pouring drinks for coked out dickheads. How is that not dangerous?”

“It’s nothing I haven’t done before. Besides, your uncle told me that I'm going to be giving hurricane shots, if anything I'm the dangerous one.”

Carmen looked up and furrowed his eyebrows. “Do I even want to know what that is?”

“You don’t know what it is?” Y/n had to resist snickering. “So basically, you would take a shot, then I would splash water on you and slap you…Do you want to see a video?” Y/n ushered Carmen to the only chair in the office.

Carmen didn’t know why he was humoring this and he didn’t want to admit it but he was wondering what the appeal of getting slapped was. If it's just slapping a few guys then maybe it wasn’t too bad…

Y/n pulled up a video and any bit of him that could have been convinced to let this happen shriveled up and died. It was a video of a woman in a very revealing dress sitting on a table splashing and slapping horny middled aged fucks. Absolutely not.

Y/n looked up from the video and saw that she made it worse. Carmen was sitting silently in his worn out chair, not even looking at the video just staring at the floor.

Carmen felt a hand on his shoulder and felt y/n come closer, he could feel her breath on his neck and it was making it hard to breathe. Softly, y/n whispered, “Carmen, you are being perfectly reasonable and very respectful but this is a once in a lifetime situation.”

A soft pause passed while y/n was trying to formulate the right words.

“You do so much for me so let me take care of you, Carmy.” Y/n rarely called him that and the name slid down his spine causing him to shiver.

Without even having time to think about what just came out his mouth, he mumbled a soft “yeah”. Carmen looked just as shocked as y/n. Neither of them were expecting that, y/n was expecting to have to postpone convincing him till tomorrow.

Now the next hurdle was making sure that Carmen didn’t change his mind. “Why don’t you stay with me during the party? That way if anything happens you'll be there. Will you be my designated bodyguard for the night, Carmen?" Y/n playfully feigned a pout, allowing Carmen to remain silent, sensing that he might need some space to process the request

She slipped out before taking a deep breath, Jesus that was stressful. People killed each other for 10k and he was just going to throw it away. Y/n wasn’t going to let that happen, even if he said no she would have snuck into that party and got Carmen his 10k.

She surveyed the kitchen, it was spotless. There really wasn’t much to do because the other chefs had done most of it but she had a feeling that if she left Carman alone, he would change his mind. So, she did what she did every single day, scrub these stupid floors.

A few minutes had passed and y/n was wondering about what she should wear to an event like that? A small dress was a necessity but she only had a small black one from her college years. Would it even fit, it's been years since she last put it on? She needed to find her old pair of black pumps from college too, she knew they were deep in her closet. And while she scrubbed and planned her outfit for Friday, Carmen came out of his office and joined her wordlessly, taking the towel from y/n’s hands and scrubbing for her.

He finally looked up, “I will be by your side the entire time. You can’t go anywhere unless I can see you-”

“What if I have to use the bathroom?”

“No.”

“No?”

“What if some sleazy fucker is waiting in the bathroom?”

“I doubt it. But ok, I'll hold it.”

“You can't cross the counter.” Y/n wasn’t going to anyways.

“And I have to drive you home.” That stupefied y/n.

“What? Why?”

”What if one of those limp dicked pervs follows you home?”

“Carmen, you’re thinking too much. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“I’m not letting you do this unless-”

“Alright Carmen. We will do this your way.” Y/n gave him a smile to show that they were good.

Carmen quickly glanced down and continued scrubbing the floor. The rest of the night was spent cleaning the floor and eventually neither of them could come up with any other excuses to stay together. There is only so much time you can spend scrubbing and organizing an already spotless kitchen.

They both went back to the lockers, grabbed their stuff, did a final walk through, and locked up. Carmen drove her home, y/n said goodbye through the phone and waved out the window. Y/n knew that this routine couldn’t last because she would pick up her car tomorrow morning but she was debating slashing a few tires just to make this last a bit longer.

The next day y/n came in at 11:30 and was pulled aside by Richie.

“Is it handled?”

“It's a bartending gig not an assassination. And yes.”

“That bastard said yes?” Shocked didn’t really cover what Richie felt.

Y/n shrugged her shoulders, “I know you wanna crack a few jokes but he is tethering and I don't want him to-”

“No wise cracks.”

“Also, the crew thinks I'm catering, could you keep the bartending underwraps.”

“Sure thing princess.”

“Do not-”

They were cut off by Fak and y/n took that as her sign to leave. Other than that, the day was exactly the same. The only other difference was that at the end of the night she had to walk to her car with Carmen.

“You can back out, you know. This debt is my brother's… and now it's mine. You shouldn't get involved in this shit show.”

“Do you feel like you're taking advantage of me?” Carmen didn’t say anything.

“How about you give me the day off tomorrow and we'll call it even. Paid leave.”

Carmen smirked, “That's not really even.”

“I'm giving you less than 24 hours notice and don’t even have a good reason to miss work tomorrow, I'm being a bad employee and you're going to let me get away with it. It seems plenty even to me.” They had ended their night relatively early, it was only 11pm and y/n wanted a few more minutes with Carmen, so she took a few wrong turns. Was that a selfish thing to do? Yes. But did it feel right? Also, yes.

They finally “found" her car. Carmen opened the door for her after she unlocked it. Y/n pulled out her parking spot and then drove off. But she didn’t forget to wave out the window and in the rear view window she could see that he was waving back. Y/n drove for a few minutes before double parking in an open street to rest her forehead on the steering wheel. She rolled up her windows and squealed. It felt good to be able to do that after holding it in for the last few days. She composed herself and drove home.

The next morning was brutal because she had to completely gut her closet to find that black dress and heels. After a few hours she found them in the same box that held her cap and gown. She laid them on her bed and then went to get a haircut. On her way back she saw a tattoo parlor and walked in and asked if they had any temporary tattoos lying around. They found one wedged between some binders, it was a large rose.

The night was quickly approaching and she had to leave soon. She had finished getting ready and right as she was about to leave she remembered the rose tattoo. Y/n ran to the skin, and peeled her dress up leaving her thigh exposed and placed the rose tattoo there. She grabbed a long black jacket and then she called an uber to take her to The Beef. The jacket covered up her cleavage but her legs were mostly bare and she regretted not wearing a pair of sweats for the commute.

The restaurant was closed slightly early but it still was pitch black when she got there. Richie and Carmen were finishing up moving chairs and tables. Y/n walked in and the chime alerted them that y/n had arrived.

“Hey guys. When does the party start? Am I too early?”

Carmen’s face betrayed nothing so she couldn’t really tell what he was thinking. Richie smirked, “The band of dickheads are coming in about 20 minutes.”

“Can I see what the booze situation looks like?” She got a short tour of what the food and drinks situation was going to look like. She hadn’t taken off her jacket because it was still a bit chilly.

“Carmen, can you turn up the heat?” Carmen walked over to the thermostat in his office to adjust it to y/n comfort. With only 5 minutes before the party was supposed to start, y/n thought she might as well take the jacket off.

“I feel a bit out of place, I'm the only one dressed up.”

Richie gwaffed,” Don’t worry you’ll be in good company with the strippers. Honestly, who's going to know the difference.” Y/n raised a cup of iced water to chuck at Richie.

“Hey, save that for our esteemed guests.” Richie said as he walked as far as possible to avoid getting splashed.

Just as y/n was about to tell Riche to fuck off, Carmen walked in. He took one look at y/n and spent the next few seconds trying to generate a coherent thought. The first wave of guests came in and Carmen lost his chance to say something but it's not like he could come up with anything marginally comprehensible anyways. In a few hours the party was in full swing. Richie was sitting in the kitchen but the thumping music, the smell of booze, the reverberating sound of obnoxious drunk laughter was giving him a migraine so he went outside for an hours long smoke break, he wondered how Carmen was doing.

Carmen was not doing fine, he was doing horrible. The lights, music, and dancing were making him nauseous. But the thing that really tested his patience was the guys ogling at you. Y/n wasn’t really paying attention to any of the guys but they were getting more and more drunk.

The room was lit with purple and blue lights and it was difficult to tell what was happening, and even though he knew it was wrong that didn’t stop Carmen from taking a few peeks at y/n back side throughout the night. If the back was rendering him speechless he could only imagine what the front looked like. The thought that these piss pots were seeing her would send him into a blind rage but the fact that each one of them would get hit in the face made it a bit more digestible.

A guy came up to y/n, and Carmen walked right up to them to know why this fuckhead was talking to her. The groom had asked for the first hurricane shot. Y/n sent him away for a few minutes to give her time to set up. She turned to Carmen and gave him a mischievous smirk.

“Payback time.”

Even though they were in a very crowded room, y/n smirk made him forget it. It was a small and private gesture and no one else would be privy to see it. It was just for Carmen and no one else. That made him feel a bit better.

Y/n and Carmen filled up cups with very cold water just to make it hurt even more. Carmen started to put ice in the water and when y/n saw what he was doing she threw her head back to laugh. The laugh made his heart flutter but the feeling of her hand grasping him to ground herself sent a shiver down his back and it wasn't because both their hands were ice cold now.

The room was so loud that they needed to come close to the other’s ear just to hear each other.

“You gotta put a bit more ice in this one, Carmen ”

“Who’s getting this special order?” Carmen smirked, he was having fun.

“The groom of course. Why are you asking a stranger you meet once to slap you across the face when you have a fiancée at home? Also, what kind of sick fuck gets drunk, high, and a hand job from a stripper the week before his wedding? That level of dickbaggary deserves a face full of welts.” Carmen covers his mouth to hide his smirk.

“It's so tacky and…and…yuck. Hard pass.”

Carmen took that information and stored it in his vault; no drinking, drugs, or girls of any kind during his future bachelor party. He wasn’t going to do the last two anyways, but he never wanted y/n to feel “yuck” about him so he would sacrifice the alcohol for his own bachelor party.

“Have you seen the women here? Very pretty.” Y/n teased.

Y/n didn’t really know why she even brought it up, She spent the entire night facing the crowd and got an eye full of many tits and she knows Carmen’s witnessing the same scene. Being surrounded by a sea of stunning and jaw dropping women had triggered a sense of insecurity within her. Yet, she reminded herself that those women were there to captivate with their beauty, while her role was to serve food and drinks. And to be fair, some of her customers have dropped their jaws after eating her food, balancing the scales of admiration. As such, any lingering immaturity or jealousy dissipated into the air.

The source of unease wasn't the presence of other women, but rather Carmen himself. Y/n had previously worked at a strip club and hadn't experienced this level of jealousy before. But now, with Carmen by her side, she found herself questioning whether he was comparing her to the other women at the party. Did she even register on his radar amidst the crowd? While their relationship remained strictly that of coworkers and friends, she appreciated that Carmen hadn't abandoned her. However, she couldn't help but feel conflicted about his presence, as she didn't want him to witness the spectacle of beautiful women giving drunk idiots lap dances.

Carmen looked up at her while his head was still bent down filling cups with ice, “Uhh, I haven’t really taken a look.”

Y/n doubted that but she didn’t want to protest, so she hid her insecurity behind jokes.

“You should, Mrs. Berzatto could be in this crowd.”

“I can guarantee you that they are not.” Carmen pushed. Y/n chuckled and Carmen could swear he saw her eyes glow.

“Hey, today has probably been really stressful. You can let go for a bit. You know, blow off some steam. There are plenty of women who would love to give you a lap dance. You know that pretty blond has been eyeing you since she came in.” Y/n pointed in some general direction with a straw but Carmen didn’t even look up from the water cups.

Carmen looked into y/n’s eyes and was trying to decipher this puzzle she had put in front of him. She was telling him to go and talk to other women and even though her tone, face, and behavior was exactly the same as before, he couldn't shake off a faint undercurrent of tension emanating from her

“I like it here.”

“So you like to watch.” Y/n smirked while turning around to fill a styrofoam cup with sprite from the soda dispenser to cool herself. She was trying to be cool but it was coming off as vaguely threatening, she needed to get her shit together.

Carmen turned around so he was facing her direction then placed his elbows on the counter and looked up at her with those killer eyes, “Yeah I do.”

“Mr. Berzatto, have you been drinking you’ve gotten, dare I say, bold?”

Carmen raised his eyebrows in a joking manner and y/n could swear that she saw stars glisten in his irises. God, was he handsome or what?

“I think it's time to get this show on the road.” Y/n turned around to walk around the counter so she could hop on top, she couldn't do it from behind the counter because it was filled with liquor and cups and she would knock everything over. Just as y/n was going to walk out the counter, a muscular arm blocked her from leaving. She furrowed her eyebrows, and looked up at his eyes.

“You promised, you wouldn’t.”

“I can't get to the counter from here…why don’t you walk me over there, so that no one bothers me. Earn your keep bodyguard” Y/n softened her eyes to convince Carmen, and to her surprise he let out a sigh before removing his arm and leading her to the other side of the counter glaring at anyone who even thought about looking at y/n. Y/n’s dress was so tight and short that she couldn’t really get up without flashing everyone. She looked up at Carmen and told him about the situation she was in and how she needed a chair or something.

Carmen brought his face close to y/n so she could clearly hear, “Can I touch you?”

Holy…mother…of…fuck. Y/n’s brain flat lines and she stumbles out a quick and breathy “yes”.

Carmen put his hands on her waist and y/n linked her hands behind his neck and just as y/n was about to close the gap, she let out a yelp as she was hoisted onto the counter. She is starstruck, her heart is beating fast and she is resisting the urge to kiss him from up here. She had to remind herself that he was just being helpful.

"Tattoo?"

Y/n was a mess and she needed a few seconds to understand what he was saying, "It's fake, so that if anyone takes any pictures I can pretend it's not me." It took all of y/n's will power to connect these words together. It was getting hard to think.

Carmen took one more look at y/n stradling the counter before reaching over the counter to grab the same straw y/n used to point at some other women, and lighty dragged it across her knee.

“Your past the counter, chef”

Y/n was in a daze, her knee felt like it was on fire and that was just from a straw. She wordlessly got up on her knees and kneeled on the counter.

Carmen walked right back to behind the counter and passed her a heavy cup.

“For our guest of honor.” Carmen grinned. He was making her lose her breath, y/n was going to pass out and fall off this counter.

Y/n took the cup of water and a shot of tequila from Carmen. Their pinkies brushed each other and sent an electric shock up her arm.

“Make it hurt.”

Y/n gleamed. She turned towards the crowd and shouted out a short introduction before calling over the groom. She passed him the shot which he downed in record time, y/n shot a quick glance at Carmen, before splashing the water right on his face and just and he slightly relaxed his face from the original impact of the icy water, y/n gave him a loud and painful slap. The sound echoed through the restaurant, and it became silent for a brief second before cheers erupted from the crowd. The noise makes Richie peek his head inside to see what the commotion was about. The groom's face was already bright red from the alcohol and the ice and somehow the right side of his cheek looks like someone painted it scarlet, y/n gave a thumbs up to Carmen, who to her surprise returned one back. A line began to form and while y/n was making everyone pay for being annoying dicks, Carmen called over Richie.

“Its fucking boiling in here” Carmen commented, “Can you go into my office and turn the thermostat down to like 60-65 and grab my jacket.” Richie looked like he wanted to make some smart comment but the sound of another slap echoing derailed his train of thought. Richie took one look at y/n, and Carmen wanted to curse him out and punch him across the face, but he refrained. “Richie, the fucking thermostat.”

Richie complained but Carmen wasn’t paying attention and so he left and turned the thermostat down and threw the jacket over the counter.

“When is this shit show supposed to end?” Richie asked while judging the guests in the most unsubtle way possible.

“Two more hours.” Carmen said while looking at y/n. Richie rolled his eyes and left and Carmen was starting to feel the cold air coming from the air vent on top of them. Y/n was starting to feel chilly too and looked over at Carmen who was already handing her a nice wool jacket, his wool jacket. She slipped it on and Carmen felt like he could finally breathe. He was beating himself for not coming up with something like this sooner. The stupid shots were finished and y/n was ready to come down from the counter.

“My ass and thighs are numb.” Y/n said while rubbing them. Just as she looked up towards the crowd she saw that Carmen was right next to her ready to help her come down. Y/n was feeling bold, almost invincible from spending the last 30 minutes slapping men.

“Would you like a shot?” She asked with a raised eyebrow. “You’ve seen a million guys take it, aren’t you curious?”

Carmen was struggling to come up with something to say, he didn’t even know how to react. “I have to drive you home.” His stare was making y/n feel like she was burning from the inside.

“A shot of water?” y/n offered.

Carmen thought to himself, what would he regret more? Taking the shot or not taking it?

He extended his hand towards the water pitcher behind the counter to pour himself a shot of water. Y/n grabbed one of the ice cups and scooped the ice with her left hand and dumped half of the remaining water on the already flooded floor. She wanted to avoid making this as painful as possible. Y/n took off the jacket and set it down on the counter next to her. She tucked her right hand in between her thighs to keep them warm so it would sting a lot less. Carmen took one long look at where her right hand was settled and then locked onto her eyes,

“Hit me with your best shot, chef.”

Carmen downed the shot before locking eyes with y/n. Y/n splashed the water on his face and gave him a solid slap. Not as hard as the others were getting but not so soft that she would be accused of chickening out. Carmen’s face whipped to the left before coming back to his previous position.

“How was that, chef?”

It must have been the lights or the fatigue but y/n could have sworn that he glanced at her lips. Carmen’s hands circle around y/n waist to bring her down. He carried her a few feet away from where they previously were so that y/n wouldn’t step on the puddle, set her down and walked her back behind the counter.

“I can understand the appeal.” Carmen murmured. Y/n looked at him incredulously before laughing in shock.

Y/n was about to tease him a bit before she heard shouting from the crowd. “Do you want to step out? I think I need a break”

Carmen welcomed a break. He handed y/n his jacket and ushered her outside where Richie was smoking. They had forgotten he was still there.

“It's nauseating in there.” Y/n exhaled.

Carmen pulled out a cigarette in an effort to calm down. They were no longer in a party where they could pretend they had no outside obligations. He had pushed the bounds of their relationship and he wondered if the lights, music, alcohol, and seclusion together was only affecting him. He closed his eyes and inhaled. Y/n crouched down because her feet were killing her. She could feel the blisters forming but she was going to be a trooper. All she wanted to do was lay down. Carmen crouched down to match her height and raised his eyebrows to ask what was wrong.

“I need to go to bed.”

“20 minutes left. You can wait in the car and get some rest. I can cover for you.”

“I need to see this place after it’s cleared out. I think I forgot what it looked like before we had it packed with drunk chodes.” That earned her a snicker from both Carmen and Richie.

A sense of tranquil silence enveloped them, providing y/n with a much-needed opportunity to gather her thoughts. She realized that she had to prevent herself from getting lost in the overwhelming depth of Carmen's presence. It was becoming clear that she had two choices: either distance herself from him entirely or bridge the gap between them, instead of remaining in their current state of avoidance, where everything seemed to be ignored.

Just as she was about to turn over to Carmen to ask him if he was free tomorrow night, a loud thump was heard inside the restaurant followed by a crash. Next came the screaming. Y/n and Carmen stood up and looked inside the window to see what got Richie to rush inside.

“Shit” Carmen exclaimed before running inside to stop the groomsmen from fighting. A wave of women ran out. Y/n didn’t go inside till the noise died down, she knew she would just get in the way. She pushed the door open and saw some guy laying on the ground with a bloody head. She scrambled to find a towel from the counter and then applied pressure on his head. Carmen had already called 911 and Richie was just staring with his eyes wide and hand on his head.

The next few hours were a blur. The ambulance picked up the guy that was knocked out. The police came and took Richie, and everyone else was either taken by police for questioning or they left for the cops to get there.

Y/n and Carmen were the only ones left standing on the pavement with little to no energy left. It felt like their bones were the only things holding them upright. Y/n didn’t have the energy to fill the empty space. So the trick to shutting her mouth was being tired, she could save herself from a lifetime of embarrassment by working herself to the bone so she wouldn’t have the energy to make a fool of herself.

She started snickering which slowly devolved to full laughter, she held on to Carmen’s arm to steady herself. Y/n from 5 hours ago would never have touched Carmen under any circumstances unless he initiated it first but she was losing it. She was starting to feel light, like this wasn’t real. Like she didn’t see Richie bash some fucker’s skull in. Or that she spent the last few hours flirting with her boss just for nothing to come from it. Carmen could only just watch.

“Let's get you home.” Carmen slowly ushered her towards his car.

Y/n laughter died down. “I can’t go home, not with Richie in jail.”

“You need some sleep”

“And you don’t? Where are you going after this? Visiting Richie?” Carmen didn’t reply or look up at her.

Y/n went back inside, grabbed her black jacket and ran as fast as her shitty heels and blisters would let her.

"I'm ready," y/n exclaimed with determination, taking confident strides towards Carmen's car. Carmen watched, momentarily transfixed and still processing the whirlwind of the past few hours. Y/n had laughed heartily as a coping mechanism, but inside, Carmen felt a deep sense of anguish, fearing the possibility of losing yet another loved one. He yearned to join in the laughter, knowing he couldn't do it without y/n by his side. Shaking off his thoughts, he quickly jogged over to where y/n stood, matching her pace as they proceeded towards the car together.

The car ride was silent, as both of them were fighting the urge to sleep. They got to the police station and y/n was so out of it she barely understood what groomsman status was and what would happen to Richie when the police officer explained it to her and Carmen. They were led to a seating area where they had to wait. Carmen threw his body on the bench and y/n followed suit. It was chilly and Carmen was wearing a shirt, so she slowly slipped off the jacket to hand it over. She felt firm pressure on her shoulders preventing her from bringing the jacket down.

“Keep it on, it's cold here” Carmen muttered.

“I have a jacket”

“It's too light.” Carmen’s eyes were drooping. Y/n sat back on the bench and tried to sleep sitting down but it wasn’t working. Carmen’s eyes were already closed so she shifted on the bench and laid her head on his lap.

Once Carmen had confirmed she was fully asleep, he draped her thin black jacket over her legs and floated into unconsciousness.

Carmen was shaken awake and woke up in a jolt. He eye’s meet Richie’s and it felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

“Aggravated Assault.”

Carmen let go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Carmen wanted to get up but he saw that y/n was laying on his lap. He gently slipped out from under her and carried her on his back to his car. He did his very best to ignore everytime that she dug her face deeper into his neck but he was still beet red when he gently placed her in the backseat and put her seatbelt on.

Richie watched but didn’t have any motivation to say anything but a simple, “You got yourself a girlfriend, Carmy?”

“We’ll see when she wakes up.”

Part 2

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roosterforme · 23 days

Text

The Younger Kind Part 60 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Your bachelorette outing and Bradley's bachelor party are both hosted by the same person, but they couldn't be more different. Spending an evening at home with Noah is reminiscent of your babysitting days, but now he's asking you some pertinent questions.

Warnings: pregnancy topics, swearing, smut, drinking, angst, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Natasha was outside in her SUV on the driveway, ready to pick you up for your bachelorette outing. You refused to call it a bachelorette party since it was just the two of you going out for the evening, but Bradley made sure his best friend knew to spare no expense when it came to anything you wanted.

"It's just pedicures and pottery," you whispered against Bradley's lips with a smile as he held you close so he could feel your round belly against his body. "I'll be home in a few hours."

He grunted softly, kissing you a little deeper before releasing your lips. "We'll still miss you," he murmured, letting his hands roam along your hips while Noah sat on the area rug and worked on one of the new coloring books you picked up for him. "And don't overdo it." When Natasha started honking her horn, he let his forehead rest on your shoulder. "She's the worst."

You just laughed and kissed his cheek as you said, "She's the best, and you know it, Daddy."

It would have been impossible to dispute that fact. She was the one who took care of you when Bradley wasn't stateside. "Go have fun."

"Bye, Mommy!" Noah said, popping up to give you a hug when Bradley released you. He scooped his son up since he didn't want you lifting anything, and you gave Noah a kiss on the forehead.

"Have fun with Daddy," you told him, kissing him once more before heading outside to Nat's idling SUV.

Bradley stood on the porch with Noah and waved until you were out of sight, and then Noah asked, "Can we get Mommy a coloring book?"

"Hey," Bradley said, nudging the door open while also making sure Skittles didn't get outside without her leash on. "That's a great idea, Bub. Maybe a Princess coloring book? You can give it to her for the wedding?"

His son looked so much like a tiny version of himself, and he had to stifle his laughter as Noah nodded stoically and said, "Yeah, she'd like that. I have so many great ideas."

Bradley took him back inside, and they ended up stretched out on the floor together. Noah continued with his masterpiece while Bradley started searching for options on his phone. After a few minutes, he found an independent shop that made coloring books with different themes based on photos that you send to them. "Do you like this?" he asked his son, holding up his phone.

Noah looked at the sample pages as Bradley scrolled through them. He nodded and said, "Mommy is prettier than that."

"She absolutely is," Bradley replied as he realized the wedding was in a week and didn't know if a custom book could even be completed in that short amount of time. "Let me see if we can get something like this for her. If not, we can always save it for her birthday."

His son started to pout at the mere mention of having to wait longer for it, so Bradley started typing up a message to the owner of the shop, hoping that he'd be able to explain that it was for his wedding. Once that was done, he checked the time and asked, "Do you need a snack before dinner?"

"Ants on logs," Noah replied without missing a beat. Bradley had no problem with the healthy snacks you somehow tricked the two of them into eating, but he was always told he never got the peanut butter proportions right.

"Yeah, okay. I can try to make them the way you like-"

"Mommy left some in the fridge."

Bradley chuckled as he stood up, coaxing Noah to abandon his coloring project for the time being. "Of course she did. She's the best." Somehow even when you weren't here, you had everything covered.

-----------------------------

"Okay, so if you could ditch Bradley and marry a celebrity, who would you pick?"

You burst out laughing in the pedicure chair next to Natasha with your hands resting on the roundest part of your belly. "Who said I would? Even if I could?" She gave you a look followed by an eye roll before you said, "You'll laugh at me, so I don't even want to say my answer."

"Just say it," she prompted as you dragged your foot through the warm water.

You groaned and said, "I like all the older, DILF-y actors."

Natasha started cackling as you covered your eyes with your hands. "You have a type!" she said amidst her laughter. "And your type is Rooster!"

You thought back to all the time you wasted with Greyson and other guys your age and grimaced. "I don't think that was always my type. It's a more recent development, and I'm not mad about it." You moved your hand on your belly and added, "Boy suck. Men are at least marginally better."

"Well," she said, leaning a little closer to you like she had a secret. "You found a good one. Or rather, I kind of found you for him. But regardless, he's a keeper. Kind of because he has Noah."

"Mostly because he has Noah," you told her, and then both of you were laughing.

After your nails were painted a vibrant purple, Natasha took you out for dinner and let you eat until you were full. You could tell your body and appetite were changing by the day, but you refused to feel self conscious about it in front of her. The two of you were sharing a slice of cake for dessert when you said, "He really did plan almost everything for the wedding. All I did was help him pick out matching suits for him and Noah to wear. And I picked out some flowers and my dress, but that's it."

Natasha hummed as she took another forkful of dessert. "I'm telling you, he'll always be good like that. He's a planner. Very responsible."

You felt silly telling her what was on your mind, but you said it anyway. "He pays my credit card bill. Not that I spend a lot! I try not to! I usually just buy groceries and things for Noah." She nodded like your words weren't as startling as you thought they were. "I kind of wanted to surprise him as a thank you, but if I buy something, he'll see it on the credit card statement."

Maybe you should have been wary of the smirk that found its way to her lips when Natasha said, "What if I rally the boys one night this week and take him out for a little bachelor party?"

"Oh," you said softly. "You'd do that? Just something lowkey?"

"Super lowkey," she agreed with a nod.

You could easily imagine them going to Top Golf or out for some drinks. "I think he might really like that."

"Or.... and just hear me out," she said, holding up her hands innocently after handing her credit card to the waiter. "Or, you let me absolutely roast him for the night."

You studied her face; how bad could it be? She was Bradley's best friend after all. Even if she was giving him a hard time, she'd probably make it fun. "What did you have in mind?" you asked as the two of you left the restaurant and headed for the pottery boutique down the block.

"A few things I'm going to need your approval for," she replied casually. And while you worked on making yourself a mug that said Noah's Mommy, you listened to Natasha's not-so-lowkey plans for Thursday night. By the time your mug actually looked like a mug, you gave her full approval.

"I almost feel bad about this," you told her with a laugh.

"I don't."

-------------------------------

The following evening after Noah was in bed, Bradley set you up for a nice shower while he cleaned up the kitchen from the chicken enchiladas you made for dinner. When Nat called him, he held his phone to his shoulder with his cheek and kept working.

He answered the call and asked, "Hey, what's up?"

"Your bachelor party with me and the guys starts at six o'clock on Thursday evening."

He laughed in response. "It's funny that this is the first time I'm hearing about it."

Bradley could practically feel her rolling her eyes through the phone. "Just be ready to go."

"Ready for what?" he asked, knowing better than to just trust her with this. The dating app was one thing, and that had turned out great in the end, but he wasn't going to blindly go with her on this.

"Uhhh... just some stuff."

"Natasha."

"Bradley."

"What did you do?"

There was a brief pause before she said, "Just be ready for dinner, booze and some strippers."

With a deep sigh, Bradley closed his eyes and said, "I'm going to have to check with my wife-to-be about the strippers, Nat." You had to know by now that you had nothing to worry about, and he wasn't even all that keen on going to a strip club, but he didn't want you to be upset.

"She knows the plan."

He froze as he loaded the dishwasher. "She does?"

Natasha laughed, and Bradley swore he felt his skin crawl. "She does. Be ready for six o'clock on Thursday."

"We have work on Friday-"

She already ended the call. Bradley finished cleaning up when he heard you getting out of the shower. "God damn it, Nat," he muttered as he turned off the kitchen lights and made his way back to the bedroom where you were all wrapped up in a towel.

"Hi, Daddy."

He groaned at your words and your little smirk. "Hey, Baby. Can we talk for a minute?"

Your eyebrows shot up as you held your towel around you a little tighter. "What's wrong? Is it something about the wedding? Did the marriage license not go through? We only have six days."

"No, no," he promised, reaching for you. "It's not that. It's... I just got off the phone. With Nat."

You looked relieved as you leaned against him. "Good. I was worried for a second."

Bradley didn't quite know how to approach this topic now that he was here. Natasha would be as tenacious as a junkyard dog about her plans, so he had to say something. "You don't have anything to worry about."

You laughed softly. "That sounds nice."

He cleared his throat and said, "Nat called about my bachelor party night?"

It came out more like a question than a statement, but you just nodded and said, "Dinner and drinks and the strip club."

"Yeah," he rasped. "You approved this whole thing?"

"Mmhmm. To be fair, it was all her idea. I just told her it was okay."

Bradley tipped your chin so you were looking up at him, your face fresh and perfect after your shower. "If this plan is not okay with you, then I'm not going."

"It's okay with me," you replied easily. "I trust you."

He studied your face. "I feel like I'm going to end up babysitting everyone on a work night. Two days before the wedding."

You snorted in response. "You'll have fun. And so will everyone else. You should go."

"Yeah, I'm going," he groaned. "Nat will just have the guys drag me out if I don't go willingly. But I don't really care about looking at strippers. I got you and your perfect tits right here at home."

You didn't stop him when he slowly tugged your towel from your fingers and pulled it open. And yeah, your tits looked perfect, but so did the swell of your pregnant belly and your soft skin. He was hard as soon as the towel hit the floor.

"Daddy," you whined softly, shivering in his arms. It was December, and the nights were chilly in San Diego; you had taken to snuggling with him even more than usual in your sleep. "Now you need to warm me up."

"My pleasure," he replied, scooping you up and dropping you carefully onto the king sized bed that you picked out for the room. "Let me start right here," he whispered before he kissed you softly, covering your body gently with his. "Feeling warmer?"

You shifted beneath him, spreading your legs wider so he was nestled against your pussy, his cock straining against his jeans zipper. "A little bit," you whispered innocently.

Bradley smirked, and when he brought his hand up to stroke your breast, he said, "I told you, I got these perfect tits right here."

"Bradley," you giggled as his fingers skimmed along your skin, but when he stroked his thumb across your tightly furled nipple, you arched your back and made a raspy gasping sound. Your eyes went wide as you looked up at him. "Oh my god," you moaned.

"Are you okay?" he asked, pulling his hand away, but you were already nodding vigorously.

"It felt really good." The words rushed right from your lips as you rolled your hips up to meet his. "Different, I guess. I can't explain it."

When he rubbed your nipple between his thumb and index finger, he smirked. You were instantly squirming and moaning, reaching for his zipper with one hand and his hair with the other. Your eyes were wild even though he was being gentle, and he dipped his head down to whisper in your ear. "You're extra sensitive right now. It's the pregnancy hormones." He plucked and stroked as you started panting. "God damn, Princess. You like that?"

"Yes!" Your voice already sounded broken, and he'd barely touched you.

"Shh. Keep quiet like a good girl." But his words and hand seemed to have the opposite effect on you, because you just got louder. Bradley reached down to where you had his cock free from his zipper and pulled your hand up to his lips. He kissed your fingers before shoving them a little rough into your mouth. "You have to be quiet if you want me to play with you."

You moaned around your own fingers but nodded your head, and at least you were quieter now as Bradley kissed his way from your neck down to your tits. He didn't know how he was going to manage you when there were two kids in the house trying to sleep, but at the moment, he didn't really care. You were going to be his wife in a few short days. That thought alone had him bucking his cock against the bedding as he ran his mustache along your peaked nipple, inhaling your wildflower scent.

When he pulled your nipple into his mouth and sucked, he could tell your breasts were already a little bit bigger than before. Soon you'd be bigger everywhere. Getting even more sensitive by the day. He was painfully hard right now, listening to your muffled screams and tasting you. He licked and sucked until your tits were both damp from his mouth and overstimulated from his mustache.

When you started bucking up, Bradley eased his hand down to cup your pussy and found that you were soaked. He couldn't remember Meredith getting quite like this as he dipped his middle finger into your slick and easing it down to your hole.

"Daddy," you gasped as you pulled your fingers from your mouth. "I'm going to come."

You looked shocked by your statement as you sank down around his finger. He could already feel your tight pussy fluttering around him as he whispered, "You want me to make it so good?"

His only answer was a whimper as you bit your lip, and he knew he'd make sure you were always taken care of in every way. Carefully, he added a second finger and started to circle your clit with his thumb. You were shaking a bit, your pretty tits bouncing softly as he ran his nose down the valley between your breasts.

"Be a good girl. You know where to put those fingers, Princess," he coaxed, watching you slip them between your lips. Then he let you have his mouth on your tits again, while his hand worked at your pussy. He carefully drew a shaking orgasm out of you as you slobbered on your own fingers, not stopping until he was afraid you'd be too far gone soon.

"Daddy," you whined around your fingers as he ran his tongue flat across your nipple.

"Let me fuck you," he begged, realizing he was already close and needing to be inside you. "Please, Baby."

You reached for his cock and guided him home, and he fucked you with his jeans barely pulled down, coming inside you after just a few strokes. You were the picture of sated perfection with his cum oozing out of your pussy and your wet fingers skimming along your swollen belly and breasts. You were his young, pristine babysitter and his pregnant wife-to-be and everything in between. "I love you."

"Keep me warm all night, Daddy."

---------------------------

As you sent Bradley off with Natasha, you shared a conspiratorial look with her. You only felt slightly bad for keeping the bachelor party plans to yourself, and ultimately it made you feel good when Bradley went out for the night in an old pair of jeans and an uninspired shirt. He didn't look the part of a man who wanted to try to dazzle some strippers, and you loved him for it.

"Bye, Bub," he said, kneeling to kiss Noah where he stood at your side. "Be good for Mommy." Then he stood and kissed you deeply. "I won't be out late, okay?"

"Stay out as late as you want," you told him, running your fingers along his cheek as he pulled away from you. "Just don't have a hangover on Saturday."

He smiled and focused on your face even as Nat and the guys yelled at him from Javy's car in the driveway. "Our wedding day. It'll be perfect. Like you."

"Go," you told him with a laugh even as you had butterflies in your belly. "Have fun. We'll be here when you get home."

With one more kiss, he was off and jogging down the walkway. You watched him climb into the backseat, then they all waved at you as Javy backed out of the driveway with Natasha in the front seat. You were wondering how long it would be until Bradley called you to tell you he had in fact been taken to see a bunch of male strippers. The guys had apparently all been so excited when Natasha mentioned the strip club, she had a hard time holding in her laughter. The plan all along was that she'd take Bradley and the rest of them to dinner and then to The Tiger's Cage- San Diego's premier male review.

But you didn't hear from them at all while you and Noah ate macaroni and cheese together. You still didn't hear a word as the two of you took Skittles for a short walk to look at Christmas lights. You even let Noah dip his hands in green paint to make a Christmas tree art project to hang on the refrigerator, but nobody called or texted you.

"Mommy?" Noah asked as you got him changed into his dinosaur pajamas. "Are you going to adopt me?"

You smiled and kissed him on his chubby cheek. "I am," you promised. But when you looked at his face, his brow was pinched with worry.

"Is it going to hurt?"

"Oh, Noah," you said with a surprised laugh, pulling him into your arms and holding him against his growing younger sibling. "Not at all! It won't feel like anything."

"Then why are you going to do it?" he asked, face muffled by your shoulder.

You soothed his back with your hand, considering his question. For all intents and purposes, you really were his mom. Bradley added you to his will; if anything happened to him, Noah was solely yours. "I kind of want to have a little piece of paper with an official signature that says we get to be together forever. Does that sound okay?"

"That's adoption?" he asked.

"That's adoption."

"Yeah, okay," he agreed with a little shrug before climbing into bed. "Can I sleep with Skittles again?"

The pup appeared in the doorway, always excited to hear her name. "She can stay in here until Daddy gets home." You set the dog in bed with him and gave him a little kiss on his forehead as he yawned. "I love you."

"Love you, Mommy." He was half asleep as you turned on his night light and left the room. When you checked your phone, you smiled, having finally received the message you were waiting for.

Bradley Bradshaw: Nat brought us to The Tiger's Cage. My name is on the marquee. It says CONGRATULATIONS DADDY BRADSHAW

You were doubled over in laughter, holding your belly and trying not to wet yourself. Because he also sent a picture. All of the guys were lined up under the marquee sign, and you were pleased to see that they all looked like they were being good sports about the entire thing. Bradley was the only one who looked slightly mortified.

You texted back Go have fun, Daddy Bradshaw!

Natasha sent you some random photos as you got ready for bed. You were surprised Jake was there, given your history with him, but even he looked like he was having fun. You laughed at a picture of Bradley drinking something pink and blended, and then the photos stopped.

You wondered what was going on, but you kept yourself busy. Bradley told you not to clean up, promising to take care of everything tomorrow night before the wedding in the backyard on Saturday afternoon. Since you had the time and the privacy, you tried on your wedding dress one last time, sliding the fabric along your legs and zipping it up your side. You grabbed your purple paper crown, which was looking a lot worse for the wear now, and set it on your head.

When you looked in the mirror, you smiled. The dress fit like a dream and hugged your bump. The crown looked fun at the moment, but you wouldn't wear it on Saturday; you were pretty sure Bradley considered it a 'bedroom' item at this point anyway. Mostly, you looked happy. Like someone who was accepted in this perfect place. Like a woman who was needed here. And you needed the Bradshaw boys to be your family.

You wore the dress around for a few minutes before carefully unzipping it and getting ready for bed. It was late now, but you requested the day off tomorrow, and you wanted to see Bradley when he got home from his bachelor party. After you checked on Noah and Skittles, you curled up on the living room couch.

Every time you stopped to think about the wedding, you got a little anxious. When you asked Bradley what he had planned for dinner for the reception, he just told you he had everything under control. He said all you had to do was show up with some sort of wedding vows, but he didn't tell you anything that he had planned.

You dozed off on the couch, somehow still exhausted all the time, and you had no idea how late it was when you woke up to the sound of laughter and a key in the front door.

"You smell like Axe body spray. I can't believe someone is marrying you."

"Jesus fuck, Nat. I smell like Axe because you took me to see male strippers."

"Well, I know I had a great time tonight," Natasha cackled as she guided Bradley inside, and you stood up with your hand clasped over your mouth. He was a swaying mess, and he was holding a huge wad of cash and a bag from a convenience store.

"Princess," he crooned softly when he saw you, and your heart skipped a beat at the look in his eyes.

"Hi, Daddy."

And then he was on you, so gentle in his overindulgence, it was almost surprising. He was looking around like he wasn't sure what to do with everything he was holding, trying to touch your belly.

"I'll see you on Saturday," Natasha said with a smile as she closed the door behind her, and then you were alone with him.

"What's in the bag? Are why are you holding a roll of cash?" you asked as you guided him to the couch.

He sat down hard and handed everything to you as you stood between his splayed legs. "The strippers were dudes. I made Nat and Javy stop so I could get you some Skittles. I'm really drunk. Can we get married soon?"

When you looked in the bag you found six packs of your favorite candy. "Wow, you must be very intoxicated if you bought a pack of Sour Skittles too."

"Did I?" he asked before stretching out on the couch. "Shit. I'll eat them. Come here."

You sat on the floor next to him and handed him the bag of Sour Skittles as you counted the nearly seven hundred dollars you were holding. "Bradley, where did this come from?" you asked in alarm.

But he just crunched on some of the candy in response. "Oh, these are fucking nasty. Baby, can we please get married?" he rambled, dumping more Skittles into his mouth.

You pushed his hair back from his forehead and kissed him there. "Were getting married in like thirty-six hours. Now can you please tell me where you got this money from?"

"Huh?" he grunted like he'd never seen it before. "Oh. Oh, that." Then he casually dumped the rest of the Sour Skittles and chewed them up while you laughed and shook his arm.

"Bradley!"

He swallowed and dropped the wrapper on the floor before pulling you up onto the couch with him. "Jake got tips for stripping, and Nat made him give me the cash."

"I'm sorry, what?" you asked with in shock as you tried to settle into a comfortable position on him.

"They tried to get Daddy Bradshaw up on stage. I pointed to Jake and said it was him."

You couldn't stop laughing now. "But you got the cash?"

"Yeah," he said, eyes drifting closed as he propped his arm behind his head. "A wedding gift. For the honeymoon."

Just as you settled your head on his chest, you popped back up again. "Are we going on a honeymoon?" You started to feel a little apprehensive about going away for an extended trip without Noah while you were pregnant, but Bradley brought his big hand up to settle on your back as he snuggled in a little more.

"Next year. After the baby's born. Anywhere you want to go."

He really did kind of smell like Axe body spray, and he definitely needed to take a shower, but you let him hold you for a few minutes while he slept.

------------------------------

Part 61 will be their wedding! Thanks so much for reading and letting me share this family with you! We're almost to the finish line. Thanks @caitsymichelle13 for the request about the coloring book; stay tuned. And thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 61

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@solacestyles

@daisyhollyxox

@wintercap89

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@chaoticassidy

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@shanimallina87

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@sylviebell

@wkndwlff

@horseslovers2016

@gennyanydots

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

@magicalmorg

@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

@ughthisisntright

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

@mygyn

@yuckosworld

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art · 2 months

Text

Creator Spotlight: @chaaistheanswer

Hi everyone! I am Clara, but you can also call me chaa! I am a digital artist based in Auckland, New Zealand, with a bachelor’s degree in Creative Media Production. After graduating from uni, I moved out to pursue my art career and I’ve been a freelance digital artist ever since. I love concept art, especially character design! Creating characters influenced by my love for fantasy is what I live for. Thank you for stopping by, and I hope you enjoyed my art! And thank you, Tumblr, for this opportunity!

Check out our interview with Clara below!

Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?

I specialized in art in high school and have a bachelor’s degree in Creative Media Production from Massey University with an animation pathway. For our thesis film, which I worked on with several of my classmates, I took on the role of producer, art director, and concept artist. Our short film was featured in the Wellington Film Festival Terror-Fi in 2020. After graduating, I went on to become a freelance artist, but my goal is to work for the gaming industry as a character concept artist. Ever since I first picked up a pencil, I knew I wanted to become an artist!

Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?

Art block is quite common among artists, and unfortunately, I too have fallen prey to the affliction. I have several ways of overcoming art block: watching movies, playing games, reading, or going out for a drive with my sister. These are just a few things I love to do to help keep my creative juices flowing!

What is one habit you find yourself doing a lot as an artist?

I tend to obsessively research about completely unrelated topics while I draw. I find learning new things helps improve my concept designs, especially in creating backgrounds for my characters.

Over the years as an artist, what were your biggest inspirations behind your creativity?

Video games and anime were my biggest inspirations! Anything with a captivating story that’ll send me to the edge of my seat, and loveable characters. I’m particularly drawn to high and dark fantasy.

How has technology changed the way you approach your work?

Technology has made a huge impact on us artists over the last few years. I used to draw a lot on paper, but since getting a tablet, I find myself searching for the undo and redo buttons and even trying to zoom constantly while I draw on paper. I used to only draw for myself as well, but after posting my art online, I now have an audience to whom I can share my art. Because of this, I am able to earn a living doing what I love by creating illustrations for clients.

What is a recent creative project that you are proud of?

I am very proud of this recent commission I’ve done for a client! Fortunately, the piece turned out exactly how I wanted it to look, and my client was very happy with the result. I am also in the process of working on a Webtoon, which is going as smoothly as I hoped it would be before its re-release!

What advice would you give to younger you about making art that's personal or truthful to your own experiences?

The best advice I would give my younger self is to never hold back! Try not to think about the negatives of creating and sharing art that you believe in. Embrace vulnerability, and don’t be afraid to dig deep into your own emotions and experiences. Always explore, and don’t limit yourself to your own bubble. And most important of all, stay true to yourself! Stay true to your values and beliefs, and never compromise your own authenticity for the sake of pleasing others. Your art is a reflection of you as a person.

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

@yuumei-art has been an inspiration to me since my early Deviantart days. I admire how she uses her skills to focus on environmentalism and cyber activism. @nipuni is another inspiration of mine. I found her when I was in the process of recovering from Dragon Age Solavellan hell. I admire how she manages to capture faces well while also sticking to her style. Her paintings are so beautiful and very pleasing to my eyes!

Thanks for stopping by, Clara! If you haven't seen her Meet the Artist piece, be sure to check it out here. For more of Clara's work, follow her Tumblr, @chaaistheanswer!

#creator spotlight #artists on tumblr #chaaistheanswer

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pinkslaystation · 2 months

Text

If I meant something to you.

toxic!Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

You want him, but does he want you? Part 2 :> Part 3 :< Word Count: 2.1k

Whatever you did, you always found yourself being a disappoint to your parents.

First, it was getting rejected from the university your parents intended you to go to. Then, it was working at a job that didn't utilise your degree. And now, it's complaint after complaint for being in a 'relationship' with some they didn't approve of.

"Honey, I just don't think he's the right one for you..." Your mother complained on the phone for what felt like the thousandth time this day.

You rolled your eyes exasperatingly, happy that she couldn't see your annoyance through the call.

"Ma...you haven't even met him, I don't see why it's such a big deal, I'm finally out of your hair anyways, isn't that what you wanted?" You argued.

Everyday felt like a battle for your parent's time and affection.

Living under the shadows of your siblings was a pain. Your older sister had pursued a law degree at a top university when you were just in high school, and moved abroad to practice at one of the best law firms in the US. Your younger brother, on the other hand, was in their 2nd year studying Aeronautical Engineering at the same university as the elder. You felt like the odd one out in every field.

And here you are, stuck working in retail even though you complete your Bachelors degree in Computer Science.

Whatever you did, just was not enough for your parents.

So you saved enough money from your job, took out a small loan and made the decision to pack your bags and move to the Midlands, which was just regionally higher up than where you initially resided in your family home. How funny was it that you were the last sibling to move out?

After weeks of working your ass of at your new 8-6 job...still in retail, one silent evening after taking out the trash, you found yourself coming face to face to your neighbor.

And to say to he was attractive was an understatement. He had a tall tower-like frame, height ranging anywhere from 6'2 to 6'4, his scarred face was decorated with dirty blonde, short yet soft, hair and a slight stubble. His face, though rough, looked almost model worthy and held a permanent angry face, eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenching as if it hurt to open them.

"You got a staring problem, love?" He scoffed at you, the first time your met. You stumbled over your words, eyes wide as saucepans.

"!- we- um..who..who are you?"

The blonde chuckled at you sarcastically, "Your neighbour, Riley, you won't see as often so close that bloody mouth of yours."

And he was right, out of 7 months of living at your new flat, you'd seen him only a handful of times. You often found yourself questioning his occupation, why exactly he hangs out and about the area for a week, then just suddenly just disappears, like a ghost.

You'd learnt from the other residents that he worked within the military, whether it was the marines, the air force or the army, you never knew, until one faithful morning, you found yourself nestled against his broad warm chest, both of you hungover from the block party that all of the residents had been invited to.

"Hmm...mornin'" He grunts out at you, and the slightly reddening marks running down his neck and the bruising hand prints on your waist told you enough about the previous night.

You stiffen next to him, but his rough skin grazing against your skin urges to continue to curl up beside him.

Fast-forward another 5 months, it's been nearly a year of knowing 'Riley' and nearly a year you'd seen anyone from your family. You've always wanted to know how long they would be able to go on without you...and you'd finally got your answer.

You've learnt a lot of things about 'Riley'. For starters, his full name was Simon, though everyone in the building referred to him by his last name (you'd pestered him too much, and he finally caved in and allowed you to call him by his first name). He was almost 10 years elder to you and his striking face was usually masked with a black balaclava or those disposable ones.

"Ma, I'm happy, why can't you just be happy for me?"

"Sweetheart, why don't you come home for the weekend and we can finally meet this man. I mean since you're exclusive and everything."

"We...we're not that level yet-"

"Your older sister's getting married and she's only 4 years older than you.-"

"Why do you keep bringing her up? What's she got to do with this?"

"Honey, listen, me and your father are happy you're with someone. I mean this is the first time someone actually liked you right?"

Ouch.

"It wouldn't hurt to meet the old fella, no?"

Ah, one important part I forgot to mention.

You weren't dating Simon.

In fact, you guys never really established a relationship between the two of you. When he was home from deployment, your evening usually consisted of lazing about after work, wine in hand, Simon walking in, a few words exchanged here and there about his work-

Oh, and the night ending with a good rough fucking.

The morning would come by and you'd walk into your shift, your hickey-adorned chest and neck covered with a black turtleneck although it was the middle of August (and against the uniform policy).

So one night you decided to break away from his dominating kiss, and sit him down for a heartfelt conversation-

"Why'd you want to complicate things," he sneers, "we're just fuck buddies yeah?"

"Excuse me? So, what those 5 months didn't mean shit to you?" You scoffed, rather offended that he looked down at you, just like your family.

"You're old enough to be my kid, what make you think this was gonna go anywhere?" He stands up, lighting a smoke, knowing you hated the stench of his cigarettes in your room. It was always your room, always your flat. You can't remember the last time you even went to Simon's place, if there ever was a time.

"Who has a kid at 10? And why'd you keep fucking me? And I'm 24 fucking years old, Jesus, why does that not go through anyone's thick ass skull?!"

"Calm down love, thought this arrangement was mutual, I've got pent up frustration from the military, you're pent up 'cos no one else wants you-"

"Those nights didn't mean anything to you?"

"You don't mean anything to me." He asserts furiously. You studied him, the glimpse of that comforting man who stroked your back and kissed your forehead post-sex really wasn't there.

The fuck does this guy think he is?

"Get out."

"Done."

And he gets up and leaves, blowing a puff of smoke as if to scent the room. Just like that. Wow, was there anyone in your life that actually cared about you?

All those Wattpad stories taught you that the guy usually fights for his lover, screaming back saying that he won't leave without a fight, arguing that that the pair deserved each other. And yet, here you are, sobbing in the shower, unable to differentiate whether your body is getting soaked from the water or from the river of salty tears streaming down your dull, lifeless face, all because the guy you wanted never truly wanted you back.

You felt used, mainly your body. Rubbing yourself full of soap just caused your mind to flash back to his thick calloused hands massaging every inch of skin.

When you occasionally saw him at the building get together, which you wonder why he even attends considering he just hates and complains about everyone (everyone but you of course), you'd find yourself glued on the spot, lips quivering, tears threatening to spill again- and the throbbing. Man, the throbbing you felt between your legs. If it wasn't for his dick, you'd really be wondering why you craved him so bad, because it's definitely not his nasty personality.

And every time you open your mouth to say something to him, to call him over, to greet him, hell you should be cursing him out in front of everyone, he just stormed out with his head down with what looks like a combination of embarrassment or grief.

Until one night, you get a phone call from your older sister, the unsaved number appearing unfamiliar to you. Your hesitant to pick up.

"Hello?"

"Heyyy," She drags out her words, as if to waste time. You can tell your mother meddled in between, "So, I'm having the engagement party by the end of this month, and um...you free to come? No worries if you can't."

You pause, did she even want you there?

"Sure."

"Cool. Um, Mum says you're seeing someone, you can bring 'em if you want."

"Sure."

"Yeah, dunno if it's serious enough but there's enough space in the venue."

"Sure."

There's a pause on the other line.

"Hey can you say anything other than 'sUrE'?" She mocks you. Your eyebrow twitches in amusement.

"Did you just call to brag about you and your fancy ass engagement party? And the audacity to not send an invite, if you don't want me there, just say it. I'm not a baby anymore." You frustratingly answer.

Your sister remains quiet on the other line and you can tell you struck a nerve.

"I- listen I know we never get along but can you please come? Ma keeps mentioning you, surprisingly, and- and we haven't seen you in months, you don't even reply to the memes on the family group chat..."

You blink. "We have a family group chat?"

The rest of the month was empty, and although you were thankful for no more surprising run-ins with Simon, you missed having a warm body next to you. You learnt from one of the residents that he's been deployed for 3 weeks, this particular one shorter than others.

He confused you, Simon. He hated the idea of being in a relationship with you, yet he did 'relationship things' with you. He disliked when people assumed you two were a couple in public, but he always had his arm around you protectively. Not even education was this stressful.

And as much as you wanted to sit and let the misery marinate into your mind, you knew the date of the engagement party was nearing and you knew you couldn't come empty-handed.

By the end of the 3rd week, you knew Simon had come home, recognising the sound of the heavy footsteps entering his flat next door at 3 in the morning, you being awake from all the stress your high-maintenance sister had thrown suddenly at you. But you couldn't help but notice the sound of a softer treads following his. Maybe he got a pet?

That night, you had trouble sleeping, unsure whether it was the stress of trying to impress your family or the light sound of the headboards of next door creaking. That sound was familiar, reminding you when he was over at your place, rocking gently inside of you, though you question why he's not with you this moment. Usually you'd find him at the other side of the door, tired eyes resembling those of a stray puppy looking for a place to stay.

You close your eyes, your mind racing to the thought of the burly man on the other side of the wall rubbing himself to the thought of you. You sink into the bed, disregarding that unignorable pulsating feeling.

Saturday morning come, and you stretched contently, knowing that you finally had the day off from work. But that short-lived happiness dimmed when you checked the unread notification blasting through your phone.

7:29 A.M. #####:- hey listen i meant it when i said i wanted you there. pls come. #####:- it wouldnt just make ma happy but me too #####:- u gotta be there to make look better haha im joking

You had a feeling that she was not.

7:56 A.M. #####:-and uh, bring your guy as well pls, ma's so excited planning this wedding she wants to get started on the next one too lolol #####:- also she thinks your lying :/

Great, now there's actual pressure to bring someone.

Your morning dose of caffeine didn't hit today, as your body feels heavier than usual as you trudge all the way to your doorstep. When the last time you actually left your apartment if not for work?

Forcing yourself to look decently good, you make your way to your neighbour's doorstep, knocking so softly you almost tried again, until the door abruptly open, revealing a wet toweled Simon.

An eerie silence captures the atmosphere, consists of his eyes drinking in your disheveled appearance after almost a month, and yours undressing him, as if he wasn't already standing almost-nude.

He opens his mouth to say something but you beat him to it, "Listen I know you've been deployed for the past 3 weeks, but listen I need a favour, I know you hate me and don't want to be with me but I really need a date to an engagement party, and I hate men and men hate me so I don't know anyone but you, and here me out, but could you please take some time out of your month to please be my date, I know you don't like me like that, which makes no sense to me 'cos you're in that mask almost the same number of times as you're in me- just please give it a thought-"

There's a cough behind Simon.

A half nude woman runs past you, head down in shame, smilingly guiltily as she tiptoes out of his room. She heard it all, you thought.

You look at Simon, suddenly recollected last night's events, the 2nd footsteps, the headboard banging. It all made sense. You really didn't mean anything to him.

Simon shifts on his feet uncomfortably.

"Surprise?"

its's 2 a.m. as i post this...why do my brain cells suddenly begin to work post-midnight I've decided to start a tag list! -> lemme know you're interested to be tagged in my future posts! tags -> @lilliumrorum

#call of duty #cod #simon riley #simon angst #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost angst #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost #ghost cod

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forgeofthenine · 5 months

Note

The bachelors are bachelors no longer! How would they grow old with you? Secondarily, how would they respond to being grandparents?

Ironically I wrote this while staying at my Nans house. I'll be here for the holidays so the next few posts will also be written here, I just thought this was particularly thematic. Halsin was also a perfect fit for this prompt too, so I hope you don't mind me adding him in :)

How would the bachelors (+Halsin) grow old with you and respond to your growing family

Dammon

This blacksmith was sure he'd live the bachelor life for the rest of his days

Who'd want to marry a man so obsessed with his forge that he's basically personified it?

Apparently, he's found the one person out there that can appreciate all his quirks

As the two of you grow older I actually see him stepping back from his forge more

He's already taught your children how to handle the family blacksmithing business, giving over the running of it to your eldest daughter and son-in-law with one of your younger sons happily working there too

As much as it saddens him the aches and creaks in his joints make the work too hard on his aging body, and his hands aren't steady enough for the delicate detail work he used to do

You can't keep him out of the forge completely though, and he still visits regularly and helps with drawing the designs of new projects and commissions

When he isn't hovering over your children's work, he's with you and the grandkids

Dammon settled into a domestic life surprisingly well, and he's a very doting grandfather

He's the type to insist you buy extra treats because he knows a specific grandchild likes it and will be coming over to visit

He always volunteers you two for babysitting as well, the spare rooms in your house that were once your children's now belong to their kids

It's a life Dammon is content with, a large family surrounding him and you by his side, he really couldn't ask for more when he never expected to get this much

Zevlor

Zevlor is built to be a granddad, I'm saying it now

He loves you, his kids, and his grandkids more than anything

As an even older gentleman he's actually still very active

The type of old man to insist on going on long strolls after meals, and he quite happily runs your little hobby farm with the help of your kids

You have a smaller, close knit family

With children living just down the road, while your kids work or take care of the home you and Zevlor happily take the grandkids for entire days

He shows them the same things he showed his kids, things like how to tie shoelaces, to ride a horse, and to wield a sword

You'll see them all trudging back in for lunch, covered with dirt and grinning as they try and hide from you

Even in his older age he's very patient, happily listening to his grandbabies babbling as he feeds them

Speaking of food, Zevlor would want his main meal of the day to be at midday

Once he gets older he doesn't like the feeling of sleeping so soon after a big meal

He does start to take naps, however, and sometimes you'll see him passed out on a comfy chair with a grandchild sleeping on top of him

If no grandchildren are around he'll likely drag you into napping with him too, there's something special about napping with someone else

Zevlor lives a very charming life at the end of the day, and he couldn't be happier about it

Rolan

Rolan is the grumpiest old coot on the block

Absolutely the type to yell at kids to get off his lawn, if he actually had a lawn

Alas, he only has a tower and instead he teaches your only child the art of mastering the weave

As he grows older he somehow seems to grow grumpier and even more introverted

Without you there to drag him out of Ramaziths Tower people likely would've assumed him dead years ago

The only people that see his softer side are you, your child, and your grandchildren

And your grandchildren love coming to the tower, wanting to look at all the pretty things and see their granddad do magic

You know the magic shows that Rolan did for his siblings? He does them for his child and grandchildren too

Speaking of Cal and Lia, he's a doting uncle for their kids and grandkids

It ends up with all three of your families meeting up at the tower for all gatherings and holidays, despite Rolans prickly attitude

It's absolute chaos, and the wizard secretly loves watching everyone joking and having a good time

On a random note, he absolutely teaches your grandkids how to read and do arithmetic at a young age

He insists on reading them bedtime stories whenever possible too, and they love it because he does the voices

Rolan is the one that thought he'd be least likely to be a family man, but it turns out he fits that role quite well

Halsin

You and Halsin run an entire orphanage together, you end up with absolutely loads of kids

Only a handful are your biological kids and you also end up with a full-grown owl bear, but you love them all the same

Halsin is very long lived, even for an elf, and if you're equally long lived then you'll end up keeping the orphage going for literal hundreds of years

Over that time the two of you might see three or four generations of humans grow up, your former charges often coming back to visit with their own children and grandchildren

You end up being a pair of old, happy parents with an impossibly large family

Halsin revels in it, finding a true passion in raising kids into happy and functional adults

It's apparent in the way he grows into the role, happily spending decades retelling the same favourite bedtime stories about him and his companions saving the sword coast

He continues to dote on you too, no matter how old you both get

The elf always reminds you how beautiful you are and how much he loves you

Halsin adores his grandkids too, often having them come for sleepovers or to play with all the other kids

He loves nothing more than seeing everyone safe and content, an owl bear happily trodding along after him

You'll find he insists on running the orphanage for as long as possible too, almost on deaths door by time he finally passes it on to his children to take over

Halsin is a very passionate man, and his giant family is one of his greatest passions

#bri answers #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 x reader #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 dammon #bg3 dammon #dammon x reader #baldurs gate 3 zevlor #bg3 zevlor #zevlor x reader #baldurs gate 3 rolan #bg3 rolan #rolan x reader #baldurs gate 3 halsin #bg3 halsin #halsin x reader

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fantasyescapes17 · 1 year

Text

In Pursuit of Wedded Bliss (Updated Masterlist)

A Seventeen Regency!AU Series

It is the season- and London is full of eligible bachelors and bachelorettes, waiting to be swept up in a whirlwind of romance, passion and matrimony as they each fight their own battles for happiness in London's elite society.

BEFORE YOU READ:

All installments are interlinked and take place in the same universe. The timeline can be confusing, especially if you read out of order. These are listed in recommended reading order.

The combined series word count is around 100k. Don't start reading right before an exam.

There are seven members covered in the full installments. I will not be doing full installments for the other 6 members.

Happy reading!

------------------------------------------------------------

Patience: Choi Seungcheol (complete!)

An elaborate charade- that is what your life has been for these past few years, and it has taken the help of more than one person to balance your delicate lies and secrets. Now entering your final season as an eligible young lady seeking wedded bliss, will you be able to keep up the act in order to achieve your dreams?

Part 1 Part 2

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2. Candle: Yoon Jeonghan (complete!)

You have always received the best of everything life has to offer: be it education, family, fortune or happiness. Mr. Yoon Jeonghan- one of the ton's renowned villains- cannot possibly bring you happiness of any kind, never mind wedded bliss. But can you evade Jeonghan's charms? Or will you find yourself falling victim to this clever rogue?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

---------------------------------------------------

3. Manners: Joshua Hong (complete!)

Viscount Joshua Hong is by far the most eligible bachelor in London. Rich, handsome, and renowned for his excellent manners and refined tastes. Young woman would kill for the chance to be the Viscount's chosen bride. But nobody can quite determine which of the young ladies he prefers, and you are beginning to have your doubts. Is the Viscount really as gentlemanly as the ton seems to think?

Part 1 Part 2

----------------------------------------------------

4. Scandal: Jeon Wonwoo (complete!)

The Viscount's sister with an enormous dowry, beauty and unmistakable talent- you began the London season as the most desired woman in any room. But Jeon Wonwoo (a man who would rather hide in the library than dance at a ball) was beyond your comprehension. Curiosity might have killed the cat, but it embroiled you into a scandal with a man you could never love.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

-----------------------------------------------------

5. Wings: Kim Mingyu (complete!)

Your debut in society was as spectacular as one could be, but nobody had prepared you for what came afterward. When you find yourself overwhelmed during your very first season and unable to keep up with the rat race to secure yourself an eligible husband, a curious mentor appears- in the form of notorious flirt and self-proclaimed rake, Mr. Kim Mingyu.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

-------------------------------------------------

6. Closed Doors: Kwon Soonyoung (complete!)

Soonyoung had made peace with his station in life. A younger son of a little-known family, he was not set to inherit a fortune and had nothing to recommend him but his bright personality. Nobody expected Soonyoung to make the match of the season. But when you- a woman with ties to the royal family and riches beyond his imagination, a Duchess in your own right- seeks Soonyoung's hand in marriage, his life begins to spiral entirely out of his control.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

--------------------------------------------------

7. Luck: Lee Chan (coming soon!)

A mixture of hard work and sheer good fortune had landed you a coveted position as the governess for Viscountess Hong's little sisters. But when the Viscountess' notorious younger brother returns from his time at Oxford, you find yourself treading dangerous waters. Mr. Lee Chan- with his boyish smile and passion for horses- seems determined to make your job very difficult indeed.

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen masterlist #seventeen au #seungcheol x reader #jeonghan x reader #joshua hong x reader #mingyu x reader #wonwoo x reader #hoshi x reader

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laneywrld · 17 days

Text

things lost and things found | Lewis Hamilton

part one

word count: 9.2k

warnings: smut, smut, more smut, fluff.

There's no way for a friends-with-benefits agreement to fail when both parties understand the rules.

"Do you ever get tired?"

Lewis turns his head to look at her inquisitively.

"What do you mean by that, Clem?" He chuckles.

Clem turns over onto her side, propping her head up in one hand.

"Do you think about having a life of your own without racing but with a family, a wife, and kids? Do you ever want to go home and stay home?"

Lewis stares Clementine in her dark eyes before he turns and looks back up at the blank ceiling.

"I don't know." He whispered into the air. "I don't have much time to think about things like that, serious relationships and such." He winces as he says the words.

"You're not hurting me, Lew, I know what this arrangement is. I was just curious." Clem chuckled, plopping back onto her back. She pulls the covers up to conceal her bare chest.

They lie in silence again, and Lewis is left to think about what she'd just asked him.

He spent a lot of his time in a serious relationship, and immediately after that ended, he was in his single bachelor phase; somehow, as the years went on, it never ended. That's how he's gotten Clementine in his bed.

Of all the girls he chose to spend his time with, Clementine was easily his favorite. She wasn't artificial or an ass-kisser to him; she was simply herself. And Lewis wasn't used to coming across women like that, given his status and all.

Clementine was actually the complete opposite of every other girl in his rotation. She was younger than him, yes, but she was also smart and had dreams she wanted to achieve on her own. He liked to joke that everything about her screamed old lady. Clementine liked that.

What's cooler than an old lady?

"I'm going to take that as a compliment. I can't wait to get old; there's beauty in knowing you've lived; I know I'm going to spend my life fulfilling my potential. It'd be cool to be an eccentric old lady, just happy and peaceful. Content with life."

It was entirely by chance that he ran into her at all that night two years ago. He had been taking a late-night walk in the streets of New York when he first saw her.

Initially, her style caught his attention, but the closer he got to her, the more noticeable was her smile and then her voice. God, she had the voice of an angel. She had that classic American drawl, so sultry and sweet like she was straight out of the fifties but with a twist.

Then he realizes that he's seen her before, and he stops in his tracks, trying to pinpoint where exactly he'd recognized her gorgeous face from.

"Do I know you?" Lewis questions confidently.

Clem halts, her lips puckering in as she squints at the unfamiliar man. "Sorry, Sir. I don't think so."

She surely doesn't recognize him.

And then it clicks, he snaps. "My photographer, Timothy McGurr!"

"Oh wow," she smiles. "I love Timmy. You said he's your photographer?"

"Yes, for the last four years."

"Wow, four years." She marvels, "You model?"

"No." He laughs, shaking his head, "I race cars."

"Nascar?" She wonders, tilting her head to the side.

"Formula One." He corrects, and she hums, impressed.

"I've heard serious things about you guys over there. Anyhow, it was nice meeting you," she trails off, allowing him to introduce himself.

"Lewis." He sticks his hand out, "Lewis Hamilton."

As she shakes his hand, her phone lights up with a notification just as a black SUV pulls in. "That's me. It was a pleasure meeting you Mr, Hamilton." She smiles kindly, and then she slips into the vehicle and rides off into the night.

Lewis stands there for a second. He doesn't know why, but he feels drawn to her for some reason.

The very next morning, he called his photographer for her details. Lewis has always been rather bold, so he isn't nervous when he dials her number. "Hi, Clementine?"

And the rest was history.

Lewis has learned one specific thing about Clem since their rendezvous began. She was an intense person. She liked to talk about any and everything. Lewis didn't mind it, though. It was nice to unpack with someone he knew wouldn't judge him.

She had a way of making anything she asked feel deep. Lewis was both enamored and intimidated by that.

Just as she was intuitive, she was equally as open. Lewis knew he could always bounce the question back to her, and she'd give him the most well-thought-out and theoretical answer.

He loved listening to her talk just as much as he loved fucking her.

"Do you ever get tired?" He ricochets.

"All of the time, and it's sad because I'm still so young, but I often wonder if any of this is even worth it. Is slaving away so hard going to be worth it in the future if I've spent my glory days basking in trying to find glory."

"I have faith in you, Clem. You're already lightyears ahead of the rest of us with that mind of yours."

She chuckles, and they bask in the comfortable silence for a while longer, both looking up at the ceiling of his New York penthouse like they're staring out into the galaxy.

"Do you feel like you have enough glory?"

"No," he answers honestly, "I won't be content until I reclaim my eighth."

From the corner of his eye, he sees her head lull to the side and stare at him. Lewis doesn't get uncomfortable when Clem stares at him like he does when most people do. The idea of her reading into him is flattering more than unsettling.

"If you weren't a driver, what would you want to be?"

"A designer of all sorts, really. Music, fashion, you name it." He lists off, and she lets out an mhhm sound.

"I can actually see that. You have a very creative mind." She praises.

"What about you? What would Clementine Russell be doing right now if she wasn't an actress?"

She chuckles, "Well, for starters, I wouldn't be naked in your bed. I'd probably be somewhere in the middle of nowhere, like Montana." She gasps, "Yeah, Montana! And I'd have a farm full of animals that I'd never eat, and I'd go out and sit and paint or write more stories that no one would ever see. If I could go back in time, I'd just write my stories, not play in them. I would hike the same mountain every day and watch the sunset. Yeah, I'd sit and watch the sunset every day and admire how beautiful everything becomes. "

For some reason, that statement holds a more significant sentiment than she intended.

"You sure do have a way with words."

"I try."

Silence falls over that pair again until she breaks it.

"Do you think I'm annoying?"

"No, never." Lewis reveals, "I actually like having you here to talk to; why do you ask?"

"Sometimes I feel like I talk too much and ask too many questions."

"I think you make people feel seen when you ask questions the way you do." He hums. "Do people ask you questions?"

"No, not really."

"Do you wish people asked you questions, Clem?"

"Yes."

That's when Lewis realizes that all that glimmers isn't gold. Clementine Walker had the life of a star. She could do anything she wanted at any given time. Yet she wasn't content with her life. She was actually rather lonely.

"I write scripts for myself to act out when I want to talk about something." She chuckles dryly. "That's pathetic."

And suddenly, Lewis feels terrible for not asking the woman more questions. He feels like a shit person for receiving her and giving her nothing in return. Clementine was better than therapy for him; who gave therapy to her?

"What if we lay in bed after every meetup and we just talk? I consider you to be a friend Clem. I like listening to you. I like hearing about you, too."

"Okay."

"We can start now?"

"You first." She has a giddy smile on her face as she turns over to face him.

"Why do you think you feel everything so deeply?"

She hums, her eyes casting downward as she allows the question to ruminate.

"I expect everything to be meaningful. I have a hard time seeing anything objectively. Everything has to mean something to me, and if it doesn't, what's the point? If it has no purpose, how am I supposed to accept it? I feel so deeply because every word, action, and situation has to mean something; there has to be a reason behind it. I've never had someone tell me that things weren't that deep; I wasn't taught to brush things off; I was taught to feel and to try to understand everything and everyone."

"I think that's beautiful. You're such a gracious being, you know that?"

She whispers a quiet thanks as she thinks over what to ask him.

"What's one thing you lost as a kid that you wish you could get back?"

"I had a remote-controlled big Homer car when I was a kid, and I used to drive it in the park every day. I got distracted one day and left without it; when I came back the next day, it was gone."

"Who gave it to you?" Clem inquires, and when Lewis turns onto his side to face her, she looks so intrigued by what he has to say. He doesn't think anyone has ever cared so much for what he has to say if it wasn't involving his career.

"My dad, for my sixth birthday. We were poor, so it meant a lot to me; I really cherished it. Felt like I took it for granted, I loved that car so much, but I left it. How could I forget something that important to me?"

Naturally, Lewis opens up to Clementine.

"You can love something and still lose it, which illustrates how much you adore it in the end. You never really know how much you appreciate something until you no longer have it." Clem enlightens.

Lewis wonders how her brain can process such complex thoughts in mere seconds.

"What have you lost?"

"A letter from my dad." Clem hums. "When he was in prison before things got bad with my mom and he stopped reaching out, I was turning eight, and he sent this beautiful card. It was Clementine orange, and when you opened it, a three-dimensional cake popped out with like a million yellow candles. I remember it saying these candles don't compare to the light you brought to the world on this day many years ago." Clem chuckles as she describes the elaborate birthday card. She picks at Lewis' sheets as she speaks.

He sees her lips pressed together, and she turns to face the ceiling again. She doesn't seem like she intends to keep talking.

"I'm listening, y'know. I'd love to hear more." Under the covers, his hand travels down until it catches hold of Clems.

"I-um, He wrote his message in like really elegant cursive, and I was a kid at the time, so I had my grandpa read it to me over and over, like every day, until I had fully memorized it. I had never seen my dad in person. I had never heard his voice, not even over the phone. I had never even gotten a letter from him before. Still, the things he wrote in that letter were beautiful. I remember feeling a little less lonely as if he loved me unconditionally. There were dried tears embedded in the paper material. I knew he cried as he wrote it, and that made me feel like, damn, this is a man who means what he says, feels exactly what he writes. I don't know when I lost that letter or how I just knew when I went for it again. It was nowhere to be found. I'm forgetting the words he wrote to me."

"Have you heard from him since?"

"Once but not directly. When I turned fifteen, he was released. He felt like he wouldn't know how to be a father when he got out. Which I understood. I can't force anyone to have a relationship with me. It must’ve been hard going in when your child is an infant and coming out to her fully bloomed. He cried on the phone to my grandpa every time he argued with my mom. She'd say nasty things to him, like how he'd never be a father to me and how I was better off. I figured when you're locked in a cell, and all you can think about is going home to your child, it must’ve been hard to hear that you would never account for anything. I believe he gave up. Not everyone is strong enough to take on that kind of mental battle."

Even as Clementine describes how fucking sucky her childhood was, she is still showing grace to the people who ruined her innocence.

"He never asked to speak to me during these calls. My mother always kept him at a distance when he was in prison. If he had written more letters than the one he sent to my grandpa, like he wrote that he did, I never got them. She was good at telling him that she didn't want him in my life. I don't blame her either; neither of them was ready to be parents. I got a call on my eighteenth birthday. It was just breathing on the other side for a while. I had a feeling it was him, so I didn't hang up, but it was a gravely voice on the other end and he sounded a little choked up. Said the exact same line from my birthday card, I'm not sure if you like cake, but eat a lot of it today princess. Happy birthday. And then the call disconnected. Kind of fucked me up a little bit because I think I was just getting to a point where I was finally okay with not having parents."

"I'm sorry." Lewis solaces.

"It's cool, builds character." She jokes dropping her elbow and lying completely on her side.

"I pride you on your gracefulness, truly."

"My grandpa always told me that if you can find grace in failings, life becomes more beautiful. If you can find grace in every situation, eventually, those graces will catch up to you. Everyone deserves to have grace; who am I to hold something above someone else because of how it made me feel? You never know what made someone act the way they did. In the end, it may have affected them more than me, but as long as I'm gracious and I consider these kind of things to be a possibility it makes it easier for me."

Lewis thinks back to all the times he handled situations without grace, when he allowed himself to blow up over small things, and how, in the end, it made situations worse than they needed to be. He internally hums at the realization.

"Shit."

She is shuffling from his bed, sheets clutched tightly against his chest.

She gracefully moves around his room, the sheets fitting her like a gown. Lewis props himself up on one arm, watching her gather her belongings.

When she tosses the sheet back onto the bed, he watches as she pulls on her pants and steals his button-up to throw over her thin tank top.

She sits on the edge of his bed, throwing on her worn Adidas sambas.

"It's been a blast, Sir Hamilton." She bows, and he softly launches a pillow at her. She catches it with a sweet grin and places it at his feet. "I have to be on set early tomorrow. My assistant sent a car for me."

"I'll call you when I'm back in town," he suggests, and she nods, letting out a noise of agreement as she saunters over to his bedroom door.

"Be safe out there on the track." She blows him a kiss, and then she is gone, and he hears his front door close gently.

Lewis likes spending time with Clem. She has a way of taking every ounce of stress from his bones.

Lewis wasn't a relationship kind of guy, and he liked that Clem understood that. She wasn't trying to force a relationship on him or was convinced she could change his mind.

Clem was there for the great sex and the even better conversations. The two of them had made great friends out of each other, and they were both content with the status of their association.

Lewis never told Clementine this, but he liked watching her work. He liked how she could put out art, and he could resonate with it. Lewis thinks that Clem is the most emotionally intelligent person he's ever met, which is why everything she puts her hands on just works.

And it shows. Clementine is the kind of person whose words sound like they're straight from classic literature. She has a way of speaking that instantly captivates every person in her proximity.

Clementine was a Jill of trades. She liked to act, but she was an even better writer. This is why she was awarded co-director of her award-winning show after helping to direct only three episodes. He knew she had a knack for all things creative. She liked to draw, paint, and read, and she had a thing for tattoos just as much as he did.

Clementine was actually so fucking cool.

People loved her naturally; she only had to be herself, and it made people gravitate towards her.

Being around Clem was like having the hands of an angel on you. It was impossible to feel troubled, even if you were going through the most unfortunate or stressful circumstances. If you had Clem, trust you'd feel nirvana.

Her words echo in his mind. I write scripts for myself to act out when I want to talk about something.

He switches on his television and clicks on the Netflix app. It's the first option under his 'continue watching' category, and he presses resume.

Lewis loved her show, though he never admitted it. It was artsy and different than what was new and hot now. Clem channeled all of her favorites to make this show. He remembers her describing her obsession with Jim Carrey and The Truman Show. Her favorite movie of all time was Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind, and her favorite character also shared her name.

He knew that Clementine cried when she read Tuesdays with Morrie, just like she did when she watched Requiem for a Dream. She had an odd obsession with The Joker movie and was even more obsessed with the lore of how each Joker is portrayed differently. She always saw herself in Charlie, from the perks of being a wallflower.

She rewatched What's Eating Gilbert Grape at least once a week. If you asked her, Tim Burton was the best director in the world, and she had a special connection to Edward Scissorhands. She also loved anything with a narrator.

She was right. It makes you feel each character a little bit more to hear their every thought.

He now knows that she likes to narrate her own show because she likes to talk about what she feels. No one asks her how she feels.

Everything that Clem likes is so deep and complex, and it fits her perfectly.

He must admit that he had never heard of any of these shows, movies, or books before meeting Clementine. But seeing how passionately she described them had him desperate to enlighten himself. He sees the inspiration of it all in her show.

Every episode starts with a question. Clem appears facing away from the camera, an oversized Carhartt denim jacket adorning her frame. He sees that she is sitting on a mountain, a camera held to her face, taking pictures of the most scenic view he's ever seen.

Her voice emerges through the speaker, yet her mouth is unmoving.

"You can go anywhere in the world under one condition. You'd have to stay there forever, everything unchanged and nothing new will ever come. Where do you choose?"

The camera is still panned out but moves to the side, where he views her relaxed frame from the side. As the camera zooms in she breaks the fourth wall, turning to face the camera. The sky is oddly vividly blue in the background and the clouds are all weirdly perfect.

"Probably here."

As the sun sets, the sky adorned in perfect warm hues, she sets the camera beside her and folds her hands in her lap. She turns to face the beautiful view, and she looks more content with life than she's ever seen.

Her voice rings through the speaker again as the camera pans out, and her body begins to look smaller and smaller against the vast sky.

"You can still see the sunset even on the darkest of days.”

The next time Lewis sees Clem is at her the Cannes movie festival.

She is obviously the lady of the hour, and he's had a hard time catching up with her.

When he finally does see her, his breath hitches as she maneuvers through the crowd and away from the red carpet in a very elaborate gown. She looks like a princess.

Like she can feel his eyes on her, her head turns and she sees Lewis standing amongst a group of other celebrities.

There are three people surrounding her. Zeus, her bodyguard, SK her assistant and finally her publicist Nia.

She approaches him, ready to greet him with a wide grin; Lewis has a grin of his own covering his face as he steps ahead of the group.

"Lewis, Hi!" She pitches, raising her arms to hug him; he happily accepts her embrace, wrapping his own around her frame.

"Can't wait to see you on the big screen." He boosts, and she smiles up at him, ready to reply, when a hand clamps down over her wrist and begins pulling her away, "Sorry, got to keep going, Clem."

She offers him a rushed smile, lifting her dress so that she can exit with speed. Lewis has never once felt like the fan in a situation until it came to Clem.

"So the movie is going to be about cannibalism?" His friend asks, looking through the pamphlet.

"No," Lewis combats. "I mean, yes, but it's deeper than that, the flesh represents..." and he drones on describing the lore of her new movie, Bones and All.

His description is almost word for word the way you described it to him after he asked the same exact question.

"So it's a movie about eating people?"

Clementine laughed, shaking her head, and moved to sit against his headboard. Her skin was still flushed from their previous actions, and her mouth was dry.

"Cannibalism is just the placeholder for many different vices. Everyone has their vices. By using something that damn near everyone looks down on, the symbolism of just how serious these issues are get understood tenfold. Think of it like this, you get mental illness from one parent, and the other denies that you have it. They believe you're perfect, nothing is wrong, but deep inside, there is this illness growing in you and festering out of control that you can't get help for, that won't be accepted."

"Imagine being homosexual, imagine not being able to express that, especially in the eighties; it becomes a bliss you have to satisfy in private. Something you must keep a secret, or something bad will happen to you. Some vices are passed on, like alcoholism or addiction, and even trauma can be passed on, like mental illness; it's about how you have to hide it all, how it catches up to you, and how it ruins you. If you watch it, think about that, Lewis. Think about what each character represents. What is the flesh they're eating?"

Lewis cries during the movie. He sees that he is not the only one as the lights illuminate the cinema, and there are no dry eyes in sight. Lewis would never understand how Clem was able to have such a complex mind and also make it so simple and still artistic to the point where anyone could understand.

Lewis usually hates being forced to attend film festivals. He especially dreads the standing ovations that drag on and on. But he graciously stands for the entire seventeen minutes that her movie receives.

He's always told Clem that, at a certain point, she'd have to let that humbleness go. Lewis was a humble person, there was nothing wrong with it, but he didn't like that Clem thought she didn't deserve praise for her work. He wanted her to know she was the shit.

He feels his heart swell with pride as she marvels at the cheers, whoops, whistles, and applause.

He places his fingers between his lips, letting out a whistle of his own. It dominates the space, and she turns to face him like she knows it is him.

Clementine's grin grows impossibly larger, and she lifts her arm to wave at Lewis. He spreads his arms out in front of him and bows at her.

Clementine chuckles, shaking her head at him.

Although she attends the film festival every year, this was her first time presenting her work as a director. This was a huge deal to her. Not only was she the star actress in the film, but this was hers. Her work, her words, her art, and people loved it and understood.

As two more dreamy minutes pass on and the cinema falls into an air of collective chatter, she folds her hands over her heart and speaks to her fellow costars.

"Holy fucking shit," Timothee curses, "do you understand that we just got a nineteen-minute standing ovation?" He places her head between his hands, pulling it towards him and placing a kiss in her hair. "Fuck, Clem. You're a fucking creative genius, you know that?"

When Clementine finally got used to people she realized that she actually does like parties. Here she was being celebrated by people, some she knew, some she didn't all the way in France.

She is in a mansion in France, fresh off the red carpet, throwing back shots with every pat on the back. There is a thrill in being praised, and with each pat on the back or congratulatory kiss on the cheek she gets, she feels herself levitating.

When Clementine first got the idea for the movie, she stayed awake for twenty-four hours, holed up in her bedroom, typing away at her keyboard as she planned and created rough drafts of a proposal.

If you asked Clem, she doesn't think that she's a creative genius like everyone else believes. She thinks that she materializes how she feels into forms of art that people will understand. She doesn't sit and think long and hard or even look for targeted things to express. She just knows.

Clem wanted to write a movie for those she felt had been denying themselves. For the kids confused about their feelings and things they can't control. From alcoholism, sexual identity, mental illness, addiction, and all the way to feeling lonely and navigating life on your own. She wanted to make a movie that materialized how it feels to come of age without understanding the purpose of life. And she'd done it.

Clem wouldn't say she was particularly close to any of the people here at the afterparty, minus Timothee. They had grown very close since filming together.

Clem actually wouldn't say she was close to many people at all other than her small, tight-knit group of friends and, of course, Lewis. Which is ironic because their entire relationship is built on the basis of sex.

She can't lie; when she first met Lewis, she was instantly attracted to him. He had a certain kind of charm about him that just screamed, You're going to respect me.

Clem liked that Lewis stood ten toes behind what he believed, always. She liked that he was genuinely a kind person and not just pretending for the media. What he put out was actually who he was, and Clementine wasn't used to seeing that in the celebrity world.

Lewis fully intended to be friends with Clementine when he called her that first night, but the longer they were in each other’s presence, the more obvious it was to sense the lingering sexual tension between them.

Clem wasn't offended when Lewis admitted that he wanted to sleep with her and keep her around without the formalities of a romantic relationship.

In fact, she was fine with it.

She didn't judge him when he explained how he wasn't a relationship kind of guy. She listened intently when he described how demanding his job was, and she even hummed along in agreement when he concluded that sex can sometimes just be fun.

It'd been two years since she first met Lewis; she was older and more mature. More demanding of herself.

She was learning to let things go as the days passed and let things come when the world felt.

She feels like she's gotten to know herself better, and she owes a lot of that to the nearly 40-year-old driver who has taken the time to unravel parts of her that no one else bothered.

So when she sees Lewis walk through the grand entrance now dressed in a far more casual outfit than the black Louis Vuitton tuxedo that adorned his frame earlier, she can't help the way her smile makes her eyes crinkle.

She rushes from the bar, slipping past the guests, crowding the home, and speeds up the stairs as fast as her heels can take her.

She lets her dress fall at her feet as she tosses on her own less formal outfit and descends the stairs again in search of her friend.

He sees her first, perched on the stairs with a concentrated face, and he chuckles at just how focused she looks. Her eyes are scanning the crowd, and he waits patiently until her eyes catch his.

When they finally meet, he raises his hand in a cool wave, and she grins, skipping down the stairs. He raises his brows when she finally makes it to him after being stopped time and time again by other partygoers.

"Lady of the hour, huh?" He jokes, pulling her into him.

"I don't even know these people," she whispers, smiling softly and offering a wave as a drunken man passes by and calls out her name. She turns back to Lewis with fogged eyes, "Timothee wanted to throw an afterparty, so here we are."

"You have been celebrating?"

"I've taken a few shots or so." She smiles, "Can we get out of here?"

Lewis nods, "Yeah, of course."

His hand travels down and takes her own, leading her from the full house. "Where do you want to go, love?"

"Anywhere is fine; just want to be far away from people." She sighs.

Lewis peers down at her, watching as she scours the long driveway.

He motions her to his car and she slips from his hold already pacing towards it. She hops into the passenger side when she hears the car unlock and he plops down into the drivers seat.

"Why are you here in France? You didn't tell me you'd be here." Clem inquires as Lewis places his phone into her lap so that she can play music. He always preferred her music taste when they rode in the car late at night.

"I wanted to see the movie and support my friend." He smirked.

"You have to be in Monaco tomorrow!" she gasps. " You can't do that, Lew. You need rest. When did you even get here?"

"I touched down today after qualifying."

"No." Clem disapproves, "I could’ve just gotten you tickets to the premier. You must be so tired."

Lewis shakes his head, "M'fine. Besides, I wanted to be one of the first people to see it." Which was a lie because he was totally exhausted.

"Early flight tomorrow, then?" Clem asks.

Lewis only nods, already knowing her eyes are set on him. Frank Ocean begins to play through his speakers, and he hums along to the song playing. It brings upon his next thought.

"I say you posting in the studio?" He eyes, "Let me find out Clemy girl about to be in the booth spitting."

She laughs shaking her head, "not even, I was just there with Tyler. Did record a few vocals for him though."

"Maybe one day you should, I don't know, release something of your own."

Clem scoffs, "I know you think I can do everything. We're not all great at everything."

"It's true, do you think you can do it all, besides I've heard you singing in the shower; sounds nice."

"So you wait outside of the bathroom listening to me, creep."

He smacks his teeth, removing one hand from the wheel to blindly mush her.

"I'm serious, though. I think you have a beautiful voice."

"Thank you. Maybe one day we'll both stop playing in the studio and do something together." She chortles, "So I guess what I'm saying is, I'll do it if you do."

Lewis smirked, nodding his head. "Deal."

Lewis takes her back to his hotel for the night. He smiles as he watches her from the living room. She is on the balcony, arms spread along the banister.

He approaches her. Like she can sense his presence, she speaks up, "Beautiful, isn't it?"

He doesn't bother looking out to the view. He keeps his eyes on her. "Yeah, very beautiful."

Sometime in the night, the two of them ended up entangled in his bed, both on their sides, as Lewis thrust into her from behind. One of his arms is outstretched and serving as a pillow for her neck, and the other is wrapped around her waist, holding onto her hand as he moves deeper and deeper into her warmth.

He knows that when she squeezes around him for that final time, he's as good as done for, sheathing himself as far as he can get; his mouth drops open as he releases himself in heavy spurts. Clem exhales as he finishes, her grip on his hand loosening slightly.

Lewis doesn't bother to remove himself from her core; the arm nestled between the crook of her neck and shoulder bends until his hand is cupping her jaw and forcing her head back towards him, where he is leaning over her shoulder. He smashes his lips against hers in a searing peck, one after the other, until he holds his mouth against hers. She opens her mouth, and their tongues glide against each other in perfect harmony.

Finally, they pull apart to breathe, and Lewis pulls out with a hiss. They both fall onto their backs, his taken arm still resting beneath her head and his free arm holding their conjoined hands against his chest.

"It gets better and better every time." She admits, and Lewis lets out his signature boyish laugh, turning to face Clem. She is taking the time to catch her breath, a happy, satisfied grin covering her face as she stares up at nothing.

It's like a scene from a movie. The curtains flowed gently against the wind, and the night sky of Cannes was illuminated by stars blazing through his open balcony doors. Clem's exquisite side profile is the main focus.

He reaches over, pulls his phone from the nightstand, and slyly takes a picture before dropping his phone beside him and reconnecting their hands.

"I should go," Clem announces with a sigh. "You have an early morning ahead of you."

"You don't have to go." Lewis tested, "It's late."

"It's always late when we're together, Lewis." Clem reminds.

"I- Just stay the night. It doesn't have to be weird. We know what we're doing."

He feels her head turn against his head and knows that she's looking at him with those same endearing eyes. "Okay," she whispers into the air.

"Besides, we haven't talked." Lewis murmurs, and Clem smiles. "Can't break the ritual. You remember when I asked you where you would be if you weren't you, and you said Montana?"

Clem hums in agreement. "Yeah, what about it?"

"Think we should go one day, you and me. See those animals; climb that mountain."

Clem wills back the tears burning behind her eyes. That conversation occurred two months into their arrangement, and two and a half years later, here he was, bringing up small details to a dream she'd told him about briefly.

"What?" Lewis murmurs, watching her grin.

"Nothing, just surprised you remembered that, is all."

"I remember everything you say to me, Clementine."

"I'd love to go to Montana with you," she whispers after a while. "It's the prettiest in spring."

"Well, we'll go next spring then." Lewis declares.

Clem smiles against against his arm, placing a peck there. "Deal, if you're not sick of me by then, we'll climb that mountain in Montana."

Lewis turns back towards the celing hoping she can't tell that her simple actions had his face burning and had his blood rushing.

"You know in eternal sunshine of the spotless mind when they're laying on the ice?"

"Yeah, Clem." Lewis chuckles. "We've watched it a million times."

"That's what it feels like laying here right now with you."

"Thank you." Lewis grins.

"Her hair was blue." Clem points out. "Her hair changed colors to represent their relationship. Why do you think it was blue?"

"They were starting over. Maybe she was still down about erasing him."

"Huh," Clem sighs, "that's a good take."

"Shower?"

"With you?" She wonders.

"If you're okay with that."

"I just let you fuck me into oblivion. Why not let you clean me up."

Much cleaning hadn't gone down in the shower.

clementine

liked by lewishamilton, tchalamet, and 8,898,465 others

clementine the best week, the most perfect week.

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lewishamilton Amazing movie 🙌🏽 such a deep message.

tchalamet And she's done it again people.

badgalriri Such a beautiful film, queen. ❤️

pharell, You're a literal artistic genius; I look forward to working with you in the future.

user Clemmy + Timmy. The duo we didn't know we needed.

As Lewis saunters around the hotel room quietly the next morning, he keeps a cautious eye on the girl in his bed. He trips over his discarded shoe as he focuses on not waking her up. He mentally facepalms himself as she begins to stir.

Clem sits up, dazed and groggy; she clutches the sheets to her chest as she peers at Lewis, who looks like a deer caught in headlights.

"Good morning," he winces, "Sorry, I was packing my suitcase back up, didn't mean to wake you."

"It's fine," she rasps, reaching over to grab her phone and checking the time. When she sees that it's seven in the morning, she internally groans but slides her legs off the side of the bed to get ready to pack herself up.

"Woah, hey-" Lewis is by her side in an instant. "Where you going, love?"

Clem pauses, still half asleep she examines him through puffy eyes. "Your flight is at 8:30, right? You're about to head out."

Lewis nods but lifts her legs back onto the bed. "Yeah, but checkout is not until twelve."

When he realizes that she is still glancing at him in confusion, he sits on the bed beside her. "You can stay here, Clem; get some rest before you get on the road. I'll leave the room key with you. Just let them know you're checking out for the king suite."

He laughs as she furrows her brows. "Don't make it weird." he reiterates from last night.

She lets her head fall back against the pillows, more than happy to return to her slumber.

"How long are you going to be in Monaco?"

"About a week."

Clem tried not to think too deeply about his big palm spread over her thigh, his thumb caressing it so tenderly.

"Oh." She mutters, "and then Canada?"

Lewis chuckles, his hand coming up to hold her jaw tenderly, his thumb caressing her cheek. "Look at you," he chuckles, "got my schedule memorized, huh?"

Clem feels the familiar burning in her face as she suppresses her shy smile. "Oh, please." she scoffs. "We've been at this for two years. Of course, I remember the times you begged me to hop on your plane and fly to you so that you could get your rocks off."

Lewis smirks, "Look at that, caught a flight to you this time." And he's bending down and smearing his mouth against hers. He dominates the kiss, his large hand on her jaw keeping her in place for him to use her mouth as he pleases. "Mhmm." he groans pulling away.

"Wanna stay with you here all day, Clem. But I've got a flight to catch."

He is standing and bending over to press one last unexpected peck to her mouth and then her temple before he is at the end of the bed and latching onto his suitcase.

"The keys on the table, okay? Go back to sleep, and order yourself some food for me when you wake up. And text me, okay?"

Clem sits up, still mind-boggled from the kiss, and nods her head.

Lewis smiles, sending her a wave and easing out of the door.

Clementine nearly screams as the door clicks shut, and she hears his footsteps getting farther away.

Casually kissing wasn't a thing between them. Lewis was sweet, yes, but not once has he sat and caressed her and spoken so softly to her. She had never spent the night with him or fell asleep in his arms. And here he was, flipping her entire world upside down and telling her not to make it weird.

It's what she repeats to herself over and over throughout the day as the tender moments with Lewis replay in her head.

He was just being a friend, of course he would show up to support her, right? Of course he wouldn't want her to be on the road late at night or extra early in the morning? And they've kissed before, only during sex but maybe he was wound up in the moment, they were friends with added benefits, did those benefits now include impromptu kisses?

She groans as she checks out from his room and hobbles into the waiting SUV where her assistant waits with her packed bags. "You had a time last night." SK teases as he takes in his boss' disheveled appearance.

"Shut up." Clem grunts, buckling herself in.

SK raises his hands in surrender and then gets back to typing away on his phone. Clem lets her forehead drop against the window as she drives through the beautiful French city.

"Hey, SK?" When he lets out a noise to signal he's listening, she asks him for a favor. "If I asked you to find something for me and get it sent to Monaco, do you think you could get it there before the end of the week?"

SK smacks his teeth, "Girl, please, do you know who you're talking to? I could have it there tomorrow."

"You're the best, SK." she smiles.

"Don't I know it. What is it you need me to get my hands on."

Sure enough, the next morning, Lewis is interrupted by a knock on his door as he clips on his jewelry.

He saunters over to the door his pants hung low and shirtless, swinging open the door to reveal the butler that the hotel provided. When his eyes travel south he see's the luxurious gift box in his hands.

"For you, Sir Hamilton. Delivered early today, pre-approved by your assistant."

Lewis thanks the man, motioning for him to hold still for a second as he rushes to retrieve some hefty bills from his wallet.

He pulls the box from his outstretched hand and replaces it with the bills.

When Lewis closes the door and saunters over to the couch, he plops down and sets the box on the coffee table.

He pulls the stock card from underneath the black ribbon and smiles as he reads over it.

thank you for showing up for me, and congrats on yet another win.

- 🍊

He smiles and taps the card against the box a few times before deciding to open it. He lets out a surprised squawk as he lifts the lid and sees a packaged vintage Big Homer super buggy.

Lewis covers his mouth with his hands stuck between letting out a scream that would resemble a child on christmas day or a cry.

Clementine Russell, he thinks, the woman you are.

He pulls out his phone, snaps a picture of the gift, and sends it to her.

#lewis hamilton x black fem oc #formula 1 #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton imagine #poc reader #f1 #black reader #black reader friendly #black female oc

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