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glossglamour · 2 months

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Full Robert Sean Leonard 'House'-a-palooza Interview: "As we know, I’m straight, but yeah, it’s like, homina homina homina."

May 01 2006 | By Maureen Ryan

Do you watch the show much?

"I can't watch it. I mean, Hugh doesn't watch it because he's anal and … eight years old. [laughs] And by the way, I don’t buy it, I think he does watch it.

“I watched in the first year. We live in New York and [my fiancé] was in California] and she likes it because I’m on it. But then she left, she had to come back to New York, and what are you going to do? The idea of me watching myself on TV, alone in Santa Monica, was just about... just short of, like, a bottle of Maker’s Mark and a shotgun away from shooting myself. [much laughter] So I haven’t watched it all season. But when I have watched it, I’ve been mildly confused and Hugh is appropriately grumpy."

I have this theory that a lot of my favorite shows aren’t even about what they’re supposed to be about -- they have to be set in a hospital or police station or outer space or whatever because the network can market that, but they’re secretly not even about that. Like, “House” is really about ethics and morality.

“Yeah, sure, I think that’s true.”

But you can’t pitch that show to the network. “Hey, we have this great show that examines personal morality!"

“‘It’s based on “A View from the Bridge.”’

Right! They’re really going to for that.

“Yeah. [laughs] I think it’s good, and when it’s right, when the show works, the mystery works. It has a Sherlock Holmes-ian feel to it, and you do kind of want to know what’s wrong with [the patients]. And it is interesting, the turns and twists that get you there. And there’s always a little bit of character-driven fun stuff in between, of who these people are and how they affect each other. And that’s it at its best. And I guess that could be true of any show.

“It’s tricky, you’ve got a lead character [who’s different from the TV norm] and you’ve got to be careful because those characters can be one-note. He’s the cranky guy, he’s the Australian guy, I’m the friend in one or two scenes a week. You just have to be careful, and I think we are, we have a really great team of writers. And the numbers are building, people are watching.”

So this two-parter on May 2 and 3, I think the unofficial subtitle is the “Festival of Foreman.” I guess they’re his Emmy episodes, and that’s fine. But you’re hardly in them, what’s up with that?

“Honestly, I’m okay. I don’t want an Emmy. This is what I want -- I know exactly what I want. I did play with a guy named Skip Sudduth, ‘The Iceman Cometh,’ seven years ago. I saw him five years later, and I said, ‘Geez, Skip, where have you been? I don’t see you at readings anymore.’ He said, ‘I’ve been on “Third Watch.”’ It sounded familiar but I’d never seen it. He said, ‘I’ve been doing it for five years.’ I said, ‘Holy crap!’ And he was back doing theater. That’s my dream.

“And it’s happening. I walk down the street and people say, ‘Where are you?’ and I say, ‘I’m on this show called “House.”’ My friend Lewis Black [from 'The Daily Show'] said, ‘What is it called? “Head”?’

“I’m okay. I’ve never been happier than where my career is now. And I don’t want it to change necessarily. Money’s good, and I’m glad I’m getting that, and I’m putting it away for later in life when I do more Tom Stoppard plays at Lincoln Center and make no money. But really, I’m great. I don’t mind working two days a week.

“Because those other guys, the Scooby gang, or the Mod Squad -- they are at that studio for 16 hours a day saying ‘tachycardia, lupus, blablahdeblah.’ Honestly, I’d kill myself if had to do those scenes for that long. I’m very happy with the size of my role, I don’t want it to get any bigger. I’m happy.”

So we won’t see the very special “House” episode where Dr. Wilson almost dies?

“That might be how I get off the show.” [laughs]

Well, you could die and come back as a ghost. Then it would be the “House Whisperer.”

“Yeah [laughs]. The hair makeup people were saying one day, ‘Oh, I love those scenes with you and Hugh, there should be more of that.’ And I’m like, ‘Shhh! Don’t say that!’ I’m the luckiest man in Hollywood. I work only with Hugh, pretty much, who’s great. And I work two days a week.”

Do you fly back and forth to New York then?

"No, not really. They don’t let me because they need me around, the schedule changes so much. I’m going to try to get away with that a little more [in the upcoming season]. Now that [my fiancé] is here, I really will kill myself if I’m out there as much as I was last year, without her.”

So five days a week you’re doing what – Botox injections? Going to the mall? Watching “Maury”?

“Rob Lowe once said the secret to being an actor in L.A. is sleeping as late as you possibly can and going to be as early as possible. I remember him saying, ‘I recommend pajamas by 4:30 p.m.’”

What’s interesting about this show is that they’re taken something that could be a very formulaic procedural and quite often turn it on its head.

“I didn’t know anything about TV, I’d never done [a TV show], but I now know very well that there are procedurals and character-driven shows. ‘Law & Order’ is a procedural and ‘Grey’s Anatomy’ is a character-driven show. The test [as to which category a show is in], someone once said to me, which I thought was hysterical, is this question: Did Sam Waterston sleep with [the assistant DA] on ‘Law & Order’? If the answer is ‘I don’t give a [hoot], I want to know the next element of the case,’ then it’s a procedural.

“Our show is weirdly, and there must be precedent for this, but it’s weirdly equally both. I think it’s very much a procedural, and without that sick patient every week, we wouldn’t work. And without the character stuff it wouldn’t work. And weirdly, people do care if House sleeps with one of our characters, and also care equally what’s wrong with this person and how they’re going to solve the case.”

I guess I like the character stuff better, but you’re right, it probably wouldn’t work without the suspense of the weekly case and somebody being critically ill.

“No, I think you need that. I think the echoes of Sherlock Holmes are too strong. The original idea of the show was House and Wilson, like Holmes and Watson. But it got away from that, and his team is Watson, if you want to be technical about it.

“I’m more like … the only way I’ve found to define it, and it’s so pretentious that it makes me want to jump out a window, is like King Lear’s fool. I’m like the only one who tells him the truth. And [Wilson] has nothing to lose. I don’t work for him and he doesn’t work for me. I’m the only character who chooses to be with him as opposed to being there because of a job. And because of that I have the freedom to tell him what I think. Not that Cuddy holds back much.”

I think her role is to say, "No! Bad House!"

“Have you talked to Lisa Edelstein [who plays Cuddy]? She’s so great. This Japanese woman once said to her, ‘You on “ER”!’ And she said, ‘I have been on “ER,” but now I’m on “House.”’ And [the woman says] ‘Oh yes, “House.” You say, “No, you don’t!”’ Every time we do the table read, I burst into laughter at some point, because there is the voice of that woman in my head, ‘You say “No, you don’t!”’ That’s the entire definition of Lisa’s character. Not completely, but we laugh [about it]. We have the same dilemma. We’re on this show that we’re … kind of on. Crew members say, ‘How long have you been on the show?’ ‘Uh, since the pilot.’ They really don’t know what we’re doing there.”

So in terms of the other stuff going on in your career, that’s going well, all the theater stuff?

“I’ve achieved everything I wanted to do. When I was growing up, I wanted to be Kevin Kline, Sam Waterston. I grew up watching the Public Theater and Shakespeare in the park and Marion Seldes. I mean, I may as well be gay.”

I’m not entirely sure you’re not.

[laughs] “But the thing is, I got it [i.e. his goals]. I’ve done 14 Broadway shows and got a Tony award, and now I’m making money and no one even really knows. I’m getting away with murder. If I come back to New York in two years and nothing’s changed, I’ll be thrilled. All I really want to do is [act in] plays, play with my dog, have kids. My desires are pretty simple. I don’t really want to do movies anymore. I’m pretty tired of camera acting.”

Why are you tired of camera acting? Is it the repetition of it?

“No, no, quite the opposite. We don’t rehearse enough. We do scenes where people barely know their lines, where people just about know their lines. In theater, you do it so many times and you get so familiar that then you can actually start having fun with it. And I really miss that feeling.

“It’s true of films too. I don’t know. I think I’m fine on film, but … I have walked offstage and thought, ‘Wow, no one has done that better. People may have done it as well, but not better.' I’ve actually had that feeling after ‘Long Day’s Journey Into Night,’ or a Shaw play or whatever. I’ve never felt that way with film. I always feel like, ‘Boy, Donald Sutherland would have done that a lot better.’ [laughs] I just don’t think it’s what I do best. I think I’m fine, but there are people who are eerily good at it. In all humility, of which I have none [laughs], that’s how I feel about my work on stage. I really do feel that I’m gifted at it.”

Just to change gears completely, what happens in the finale?

“Well, I think the finale is a bit of a cliffhanger. Something very exciting happens. It’s extremely exciting and freaky and I think it’s great. I can’t say what it is. You end this season very curious about how the next season is going to start. It’s a great final show and a big cliffhanger.”

So it seems like Hugh Laurie is so disparaging of his own talents. But he’s so good as House.

“Some people ask me, ‘Oh, why does Wilson want to hang out with House so much?’ and I’m like, ‘You idiot.’ [laughs] House is designed to be attractive! He’s brilliant, he’s self-deprecating, he has a limp. But yeah, Hugh hates himself and he’s very funny about it. There’s no better combination in my book. Like Lewis Black.”

But as an acting partner, he’s good to work with?

“Oh yeah. The thing is, with this part, Hugh has a huge obstacle he has to deal with, having an American accent. His problem isn’t our problem. We as the audience don’t have that problem, because what he doesn’t know is that he does it perfectly. But of course he doesn’t hear that. That’s why he can’t watch the show.

“When you’re doing an accent, you don’t feel like you’re interesting in the role. Even if everyone around is telling you that you are. And to be in a play is one thing, but to be on TV show that runs for years, I don’t know how he’s going to do it. To be that hard on yourself and be that disappointed in your own work. But as I said, and underline this four times, he’s wrong.”

And then he obviously hates when anyone calls him a sex symbol. You read his quotes when people ask him about that stuff and you can feel the embarrassment rising off the page.

“Yeah, he hates that stuff. And even more than the ‘sexy’ stuff, he hates the ‘you’re brilliant’ stuff. Of course there’s a part of him that likes him, there’s a part of all of us that likes that. [But him being hard on his performance], it’s not false vanity.

“I think Hugh does work he’s proud of and does work he thinks is good, I’m just not sure it’ll ever be this [show]. Having an accent… acting is letting go and forgetting yourself, it’s the opposite of ego. It’s flying away and getting away from yourself and forgetting. And when you’re doing an accent, it’s virtually impossible to do that.

“It’s hard when you're in a play, doing the same lines, the same way for eight months. Hugh learns 72 new lines a day and has to put an American accent on them. It really is an actor’s nightmare. I’ve done [with accents] Brian Friel plays, Martin Sherman plays, Tom Stoppard plays, and maybe five months into it you have a night where you kind of feel OK and kind of forget the accent and let go and let the scene happen. To have a strange accent in your mouth while playing a role, and then be judged for it, that’s hard stuff.

“And can I tell you, when you have dinner with Hugh Laurie [speaking in his real accent]… I miss that voice.”

Yeah. He called me once directly for an interview. I was expecting the publicist to put him through, but it was just that voice on the phone. I was sort of thrown for a minute.

“As we know, I’m straight, but yeah, it’s like, homina homina homina.” [laughs]

---- [source (part 2)] | part 1 | part 3 ---

it took me two hours to track this interview down. it might be the longest one he's ever done. first i tracked it down to tumblr pages posting about it with no source please stop doing that. then i found a short youtube video of laurie saying "homina homina" on an snl skit i think and someone in the comments mentioned the site where the rsl interview was posted. however the site wouldn't let me in, i guess they took it down so i headed to archive dot org. i didn't have a specific link though so that didn't really work out either. then for nearly an hour i tried a wide range of word combinations on google until i stumbled upon a livejournal page of rpf hugh laurie/rsl fanfic. SOMEONE tysm karaokegal posted the exact link i was looking for in the comments. quick trip to the wayback machine and here you go!

i should be on those ethical hacking competition things

#house md #hatecrimes md #gg.txt #robert sean leonard #rsl #interview #source hunting success #hugh laurie #james wilson #gregory house #i nearly went insane #trying to find this thing #part 3 is an interview w katie jacobs #part 1 is general quotes #muted

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whalesforhands · 2 months

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what’s yours is mine (1/?)

masterlist next

pairing: geto suguru x reader x gojo satoru

You don’t know a lot of things, and you readily admit that. What you do know, is that the friends you’ve made aren’t something you will ever regret. Until your physical body weakens and becomes nothing, you’re more than happy to give your all until you wither away.

What’s yours can be theirs, too. They’re your friends, after-all. (Omegaverse, rating may change with every update.)

“Ito Saya, reporting in for your daily broadcast. In a noteworthy shift, Omegas are increasingly finding more employment opportunities in positions of power. With a positive trend towards reduced oppression of—“

You’re averse to this sort of thing. A folly, something you can barely care about as your eyes squint at big words floating around the screen, a pretty lady holding papers and looking all serious and… Boring. TV shows are supposed to be fun, supposed to be playing that anime you had been waiting all week to see, supposed to be… Interesting so that you can feel less alone.

You definitely don’t want some silly lady on the screen talking about— Those things that you can barely understand. Why do they always talk so much? A picture could probably end their entire long spiels in seconds.

Your nose scrunches, your fingers cupping your chin like those TV characters did when they were thinking really hard. So why don’t they just use pictures? They’re more colourful and tell you stuff faster, won’t they? It’s not your fault that the TV station people are always so inefficient.

(It’s the television’s fault isn’t it? Definitely, right? Mama always did tell you it was a little old.)

Or maybe it’s because you don’t know a lot of things.

You’re 4, staring up at the glowing screen of your all too old television, sat cross-legged on the carpeted floor in this wide, wide room that was a little too empty for your liking. Your nose picks up on the scent of coffee, ears barely picking up on a clink of porcelain against a cheap wooden coaster. Mama circles things in newspapers, the gliding of her red marker against the sheet attracting your attention to the focused look in her eyes, the furrow of her brows, the way she just held that pen so elegantly…

(Your Mama is so much prettier than the lady on the TV.)

You like it when she’s focused like that, so serious-looking! This must be the pinnacle of a hard worker. Brains… And beety? Or whatever you heard some other old man on the TV used to cheer about.

So you decide you don’t wanna watch anymore, Getting up onto your small feet and barely catching yourself before you topple over, toddling over to your Mama with socks padding against the wooden floors.

You’re soon taking decisive peeks at your all too focused mother, watching over her shoulder in silence to let her focus. There should be a reason why she’s so serious, right?

Maybe it’s something fun? Something exciting? That’s why she’s so focused on it— right?

“J…Ob list…ings open…” Your eyes are narrowed, licking over your lips to wet them as you take another deep breath in. “Mini—um, ex-peer-i-sense?”

You can see the red marker coming to a halt, her sweet chuckle perhaps to humor you, to acknowledge your attempt. Patting your head when she turns her head around, and a smile upon her face as she smooths over the fabric of her skirt, as you feel yourself being lifted and plopped gently into the warm confines of her lap.

“That was a nice try, sweetie.” Her eyes meet yours when you take the decisive move to lean back, a ruffle of your hair and your quiet giggle as the short relief of her attention leaves you, though not without sating your curiosity. “Mama’s looking for a job.”

You know what that is. It’s for adults to make money, disappear for hours in a day and only come back super, super late at night.

(You think your father had one. Or… Did he really?)

And it means they spend all that time in a place nowhere close to their home or cute, adorable, obedient daughters either.

“Does that mean you can’t stay home with me anymore, Mama?” You’re still leaning back into her chest, staring up at her chin from your position as you bring yourself impossibly closer to her, the calm smell of vanilla and honey in your nostrils making you all warm and fuzzy, calm and happy.

(You always liked it when she smelled like this.)

“Maybe, sweetie.” She pulls away briefly to tap the end of the marker against your nose. “But Mama will be able to buy you more delicious food,” She pauses to smile so sweetly down at you, a pinch to your cheek. “And finally get you some toys.”

Toys. You realize that you don’t have any toys. At least— You couldn’t bring any of your toys with you when your mother had so urgently scooped you up into her arms in the dead of the night, a luggage rolling behind her as your nose picks up on an urgent, intruding scent of sour milk and rotting flowers, your senses spiked with uncertainty and fear as you soundlessly drink in the last sight of your old home for those few seconds before the darkness ate it all away.

You remember boarding 1 train, 2 trains, 3 trains… You lost count after that. Only simply remembering getting pulled along, Mama’s soft whispering and cooing promises that this is for the best, that your Papa won’t be able to follow you here, that you’ll be happier than ever. You remember her scent, less rigid, less frightened but still steeped in misplaced excitement. Like a fragrant scent of calm that beckoned you to follow and imitate.

You remember living in small apartments, tiny, squeezy and virtually no space. You remember how sickly, horridly sweet Mama’s scent was, caked in perfume when she rushes out every night for her job at the local izakaya. Her uniform always a little messed up in her haste before she leaves your dinner usually already in your hands as you slurp on ramen or eat another scoop of curry rice.

She would pat your head as you offer her a bite, giving you a smile before she tells you to be good, several locks clicking into place when she closes the door behind her.

It wasn’t much, wasn’t the most fun you’ve ever had in your life, but it was comfortable. You were happy with that simple life with her. But one day, you heard jangling at the front door, you hear hurried, panicked movements, smell sour fear despite the thick odour of perfume as your Mama hurriedly slams the door shut behind her, cold sweat on her as she hugs you close, buries her face into your hair.

You don’t like it when she’s like this.

You remember a man with a scent so different from your father come knocking at your door for weeks on end, gradually changing from slow knocks to furious banging on the metal with a rough pleads begging that he won’t hurt your mother, that she was beautiful, the she was—

That’s how you ended up here now. It’s been at least a year since then. And only about a month since you moved in.

(You think. You’re not really good at telling time yet.)

“Mama, I don’t need toys.” It’s not like you don’t want them, you just don’t need them. A lesson taught to you by more pretty ladies on the TV screen, you’ve also stopped by many a toy store only to see too many zeroes on price tags, and it’s been steeled in your mind that you just don’t need them. Not when you have Mama to play together with now that she’s smiling so much more.

So you’re adamant on not wanting any.

“Is that so, darling?” You feel a mindless pinch to your cheek as she circles another paragraph of words. “Then how are you going to keep yourself from getting bored when I’m not around?”

Now that has you in a slight dilemma, your hands freezing in place from where they had been twirling with her hair. You blink once, and again when you quietly see her marker tap against the paper, as if awaiting your thoughts as your eyes start to dart all over the room.

(She makes really good points. Too good. As expected of your Mama.)

The television? No. Mama would tell you too much is bad for your eyes. The pillows you both use for your futons? No. You’ll probably dirty it and make more work for her. Your eyes silently trail over to the window, sun shining through the panes and onto the floor as a glowing thought arises.

“I can just play outside.”

——

Be careful what you wish for, as they say.

An amused chuckle from Mama as she pushes you towards the door, nimble fingers excitedly doing up the straps of your old sandals and arming you with a couple of handmade cookies, a pat on your head and parting words of;

“Don’t wander anywhere past the playground, don’t follow anyone strange, be back by sunset and make some friends.”

Maybe you shouldn’t have said that you’ll go play outside.

“Honey, I know it’s only been so long since we’ve moved here.” She’s clears her throat, a cloth being gently rubbed against your face to help get rid of any stray rice grains. “But,” She sucks in a breath, a rise and fall of her chest as you blink at her.

“Have you…” She has to take another breath in. Does she have breathing problems—

“Made any friends yet?”

Oh.

The answer is no. Your go-to counter being, ‘I don’t go outside, so how can I make any?’ as if it was the most obvious thing in the world as you give her a smile.

(This isn’t something you’re meant to be proud of.)

And all she’ll give you is winced smile, ruffling your hair and saying that there was no rush. That you’ll get your chance. That you’re the sweetest kid there was. That she has faith in you and wants you to work hard!

But it’s not like it’s as easy as your capable mother makes it sound, and not like you wanted to be out here, anyway. You think the sun is too hot, that there aren’t enough clouds, that the wind isn’t picking up enough, the cicadas are too loud, that you need water—

And that you need to stop complaining so much.

You’re kicking at the path, a long stick in your hands poking at the ground beneath you, cookies pinched between your fingers as you wander and wonder. You can make friends. Surely, you can. That’s what the the cookies are for, right?

Other kids your age should love cookies. You sure do, and you’re Mama’s number 1 fan when it comes to her baking.

(Or her… Anything, really.)

So… You know her inside out, you swear you do. You love her, she loves you, she makes good food and she wants you to make friends, come back with no cookies and a new bond forged.

(Anyone would do, right?)

But you don’t see any kids, the playground you just arrived at deserted and empty. It looks sleek, almost as if it were brand new. Dark wood and galvanized steel, it was so… Clean. So untouched. Yet nobody was here? Your shoulders slump forwards in mild disappointment, yet your heart thrills at the thought of being able to have the whole place to yourself. Alone.

Well, choosers can’t be beggars… Or was it the other way around? Either way, it’s not like Mama would know if you ate them both yourself.

——

So you find yourself sat down comfortably within the top of the little hut housing the slide, your feet splayed out in front of you as you prepare to take a bite. You feel the straps of your sandals relax against your feet, a slight breeze picking up despite the shade you had hidden under. Perfect. This was perfect—

“Are those cookies?”

You can feel your shoulders jump in shock, fear pulling at your heartstrings and a startle nearly making you drop your precious dessert. So much for a peaceful time. You have to physically lurch yourself back before any harm was done to your food. Just who do they think they are? To just come up to you and—

A flurry of white snow and icicles of frost. But you’re pretty sure the summer heat is still beating down, the cicadas are still singing, and there wasn’t a cloud in sight. Yet the one before you defies all of that. He had an aura about him, a commanding curiosity. And he does definitely—

“Look weird.”

His eyes widen for just that fraction of a second, before he furrows his brows, the long sleeves of the firefly kimono swaying when he crosses his arms in rebuttal.

“You’re weirder.”

You blink maybe twice. Once in surprise, and the other to really blink back into reality. He must’ve heard your thoughts.

“I didn’t. Ya just said it out loud, weirdo.”

Oh. You have to say your sorries, then. Mama didn’t raise you to be rude.

“This is my playground.” Your eyes catch a glimmer of the wara zori his feet donned. They were too neat, too well put together. “Nobody else is allowed in.” His tone sounds so proper, his pronunciation so abnormally clear, especially for someone who looks your age.

“Oh.” You didn’t know that. Though to be fair, you don’t know a lot of things. “Sorry. I didn’t know playgrounds can be owned…”

“That’s only for poor people.” You hear the tap of his shoes against pressure treated wood. “If more people were like me, they’d have their own playgrounds too.”

“Oh. Sorry then.” You really are. You just thought playgrounds were a place for every kid…

“S’that all you can say?” You can see the shine of iridescent blue, making use of his standing height to belittle and threaten your sitting position. He makes himself look big, makes the glimmer in his eye turn into one of malice and impatience. It twists his features, turns them into something rugged and rough and uncomfortable.

And you think it’s such a waste of the cute face he has.

“Sorry.” To his Mama who gave him such a nice looking profile, and to him, you guess. You don’t really know if you should be apologizing, don’t really know if what you’re doing is right.

(But apologising has always worked. It felt right to you.)

And you think he’s satisfied now.

He harrumphs, unfolding his hands. “Some old lady put me on a sweets ban.” He settles down next to you, pushing you aside to make space for himself as he plops down, and you notice the shifting of the pretty blue fabric he donned matching perfectly with the crystal blue of his eyes. You notice the print quality being one so clear and vivid, despite the simple design. That’s a really nice kimono. “So I can’t eat anymore for the rest of the month.”

(He really is cute.)

“But since you’re trespassing on my playground,” He holds a dainty, porcelain hand out, a small twitch of his fingers that itch for your compliance. “I’m charging you cookies for it.” He’s smiling now. A proud, smug grin with the upturn of his eyes into crescents.

”It’s okay for me to eat ‘em cause it’s tax.”

He’s kind of irritating, but… Anyone would do, right?

You swallow the lump you weren’t aware of in your throat, the sweat that you didn’t know that was starting to form on your hand. You think you have an idea. A good one, at that.

“Okay,” You produce the other packaging. “But you have to promise to be my friend.”

Now it’s his turn to blink at you in utter confusion.

“Are you—“ His eyebrows furrow deeper than before, his smile dissipating into this confused frown. His eyes scrutinize and watch you closely, as if he was scouring your every breath, your every movement to uncover something that just wasn’t there.

“Being serious?”

Why… Wouldn’t you be? The way you just blink back at him, waiting on him to continue only to be met with glaring silence… Is there something on your face? Is there a bug you didn’t see crawling in your hair?

Or maybe he just wants the cookie.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Your hand is warm as they grip his wrist, gently dropping the wrinkled plastic onto his hand with a tilt of your head and eyes that flick up to meet his. It’s innocent, genuine, even. Frightfully so. The way you smile with nothing else, the way your intent was shown upon your very sleeve.

Nothing. He garners absolutely nothing from you. Your hands feel too warm, the chocolate chips within the cookie already look like they were melting, sweat is starting to stick your hair to your skin— And he thinks it doesn’t get anymore real than this.

“Okay.”

Oh, good. He agreed. You have a friend now, and it makes your heart squeeze with just that bit of excitement, of joy. It felt like you were swinging too high off the ground, felt like you were going to be swept off your feet.

It felt good. Maybe you should make more friends.

“Do the thing with me.” His pinky is held out, pushed into your face. “Ya gotta promise me something too. That’s how promises work.”

Is that how it works? You didn’t know that either.

“Yeah.” It isn’t. “That’s how it works here, you dunno that cause you’re new.”

Well… Okay then. “What’s the promise?”

You see his lips curl up, his eyes sparkling with something unknown as you begin to stick your own pinky out. “You’re already my friend, right?”

You nod.

“Good.” There’s a smugness to his face now. “So you can’t be friends with other kids from this neighbourhood. That’s betrayal to me.”

You catch a whiff of something spicy, hot. As if it were burning you to the very edges of your body— Before it disappears completely, as if it were never there. He makes sense, to you at least, and it sounds… Fair enough, you guess.

Your pinky wraps tight around his, in spite of how foreboding and suffocating his hold feels. Your nose picks up on the scent of fabric cleaner, the scent of summer weighing heavy on your nose in this moment. You see blue and white, see oranges and pink light starting to envelop his hand from where the sun had begun to set, making his hand glow as your promise becomes sealed in this very moment forward.

“Hey,” His eyes still don’t leave the way your fingers were intertwined with each other. “Which house do you live in?”

(“I’m forgiven for coming in here without permission, right?” Your hands are stained with sticky chocolate that you’re trying to dab off with your dry handkerchief, bits of crumbs littering your lips.

“Ya can come here whenever you want now.” He wipes the remnants of soft biscuit and gooey chocolate off with a dismissive sleeve.

“That’s such a waste of a pretty kimono…”)

——

Even when your pinkies have lost their binding to each other, you still find his hand holding onto yours, adamant on them being intertwined as he huffs in annoyance at your stare.

“I’m only leadin’ ya back cause I wanna see your house.”

You give him that owlish stare again. The blank one that looks like you don’t have a thought passing through your head at all. “Okay,” You smile again.

“What’s your name, by the way?”

It’s a dismissive question, one that had only just occurred to you. You’re far more interested in watching the way the sun casted your shadows together on the concrete pavement, how your silhouettes gave you a sense of weird unity. Having a friend feels really nice, you think.

You take a glance at him when he takes too long to reply, catching an icy cold gaze that contrasted the warmth of your hands conjoined.

“You first.” Well, if he insists, you guess. It’s just your name.

“(last name) (name).” You’re pretty sure you got the pronunciation right.

“Gojo… Satoru.” You can hear him hold his breath as his name leaves his lips, his voice ever steady and confident, though with a tinge of hesitance. As if he expects something, as if he wants it to be over and done with.

It never comes. Only a confused tilt of your head as you keep staring at him like he was the crazy one in this situation.

And you can see his face change into one of disbelief, one that barely tilts over the edge of what you can only describe as ‘shocked relief’. Maybe he is as weird as he looks. Does he have some sort of weird complex? You can swear you’ve heard about it on TV before. Or maybe he just has really bad comedic timing? You can at least compliment him.

“You’re funny, Satoru-san.” Because he’s genuinely making you smile now.

“I didn’t give you permission to call me by my name.”

“Oh.” You thought friends were allowed to be on first name basis immediately. Were you wrong about friendships afterall? You stare at the ground for a little longer than needed as punishment for yourself, “Sorry, Gojo-s—“

“I didn’t give you permission to call me by my last name either.” His hand squeezes yours ever tighter in small retaliation, his face turned away from yours to hide the way he was starting to grow red with rapid embarrassment.

(You can still see the tips of his ears burning red.)

Now you’re just confused. A scratch of your head as you try to think a little bit harder.

“…do I just call you friend, then?” And you can hear him stifle a snort.

“You’re really weird.” He squeezes your palm again. “Lose the honourifics, weirdo.”

(“So, Gojo…?” You test the waters again. You see his eyes stare off to the side in thought for just that one moment before they flick back to meet your gaze.

“Satoru.”)

“My house is that one,” Your small fingers point towards the horizon, a quaint, unassuming home coming into sight. “You have to walk 3 houses down from the playground.”

You stop before the front. Trying to loosen your grip only to feel his hand tighten significantly around yours.

“Satoru.” You call his name when he’s seemingly lost in thought, his eyes staring blankly at your humble home. It almost looked as if he hasn’t seen one before. “It’s getting late.”

“Oh.” Is he copying you now?

“Don’t you need to go back home? Your Mama would be mad if you’re late, wouldn’t she?” You probe a little more in efforts to snap him out of his trance, poking at his squishy face to get his attention.

But to no avail.

He doesn’t say anything, his head only turning to the side to stare you straight in the eye as you await. You see how pinks and blues are practically reflecting off of those crystalline optics, the sky reflected in them as they shine with a certain warmth.

“Can I come by tomorrow?”

——

A small knock at your front door early into the morning, when the sun had barely risen and the skies were still painted in shades of night blue.

To be specific, it was 6:00 AM. Your Mama was startled as she sipped coffee in the kitchen, you hear her shuffling downstairs, hear the clatter of the very few kitchenware you had as you begin to stir from your sleep, your brain flaring into overdrive as you try to sniff out the air— Trying to capture whiffs of that rancid scent that you hate so much—

Nothing. Nothing but the growing smell of rotting flowers that sends jitters down your spine. It worries you, sends you into a panic as you practically trip over yourself to run downstairs, disregarding any of the instructions of hiding away in the closet like your Mama had taught you beforehand. You have to check— Have to see if she’s okay—

The door is already open.

“Is (name) home?” He’s the first to talk, eyes flicking back and forth between the slightly open door and the dim light from within your home and your sleepy mother.

Mama only blinks down at him, her phone on speed-dial to the police releasing its tense grip as her shoulders visibly slump forward. Her scent calming from the initial flare up as she opens the door just that little more to allow her full view of Gojo Satoru standing before your home accompanied solely by a pretty lady dressed in a simple kimono.

“Yes… She is—“

“Good morning, (last name)-sama.” A low bow that takes your mother by surprise. “Our young master has scheduled a playdate with your daughter for today.”

“I— Um, heard, yes. But I certainly didn’t expect it to be this early—“ Your Mama shifts in place a little uncomfortably, taking note of how the sun had yet to rise, how the street lamps were still alight.

“We apologize for the disturbance.” The servant girl swoops down into another polite bow, head low and hands holding out a neatly wrapped gift before her. “These are snacks to show our gratitude for hosting this event. Young Master Gojo was looking forward to this arrangement, and had made preparations to come as early as possible.”

What an… Interesting child.

“As I am not allowed to accompany him inside due to his request, please also take this number with you, (last name)-sama. Do not hesitate to call us if anything arises. I will arrive to pick him up when he wishes to go.”

“Ah, um… Thank you…” The box feels heavy in your Mama’s hands as you tug on her pajamas from behind, peeking out slightly once you hear the door close.

“Gojo-kun… Was it?” She has to blink a few times to really get a good look at the snowy-haired boy.

“How did you say your friend looked again?” She’s picking up a dumpling with her chopsticks, gently laying the food onto your plate as you continue to chew in humming delight.

Your training chopsticks are clacking against each other as you smile up at her, all toothy grin and happy glow.

“He’s really cute.”

She figures it checks out, the doll-like, porcelain features of his face, the shiny blue eyes and his silky looking hair. He doesn’t say anything, furrowed brows and curiosity in his eyes as he scrutinizes her too, the air starting to still just that little bit when he nods at her in greeting.

As if he was acknowledging her… And as if he didn’t know how else to react.

“It’s nice to meet you.” She leans down to shake his hand, noticing the softness of his skin, the grip of his hand. “And thank you for the gift.”

You pop out from hiding behind your Mama’s legs, blinking at how his clothing had switched from the pretty kimono yesterday— To a simple shirt and shorts.

“Satoru.” You smile only slightly, your voice dimmed with the raspiness of just waking up, waving your hand in greeting. “You’re not wearing your pretty clothes anymore.”

Mama watches, watches how his gaze had been fixated on you the moment you appeared, how he’s waiting—

“I’ll leave you both to it, then.” A ruffle of your hair as you let out a quiet giggle. “Make sure to wash up and brush your teeth.”

“Okay.”

And when she’s out of sight, her footsteps disappearing down the hallway— He starts to speak more.

“Your house is tiny.” Small. Inferior. Almost unlivable. He swears he’s seen servant quarters bigger than this as he kicks his sneakers off by the genkan, dusting himself of imaginary dust as he climbs up the step, his hand somehow finding yours with almost scary accuracy.

Is it? You always felt that it was too big. Always having too much space that you didn’t know what to do with.

“I think it’s nice.” You can feel yourself squeezing his palm with gentle self-assurance, leading him up the stairs and into the bedroom where your futon still laid upon the ground messily.

He sees darkness, hears the soft pads of your socks against tatami mats. Smells the faintest scent of honey within this room.

He stares. Silently, quietly. At the hadakake of your futon, at the thinner blanket that your Mama had taken out to deal with the sweltering heat of summer, at the overall state of the room.

“Are you poor?” You blink at him when he lays down next to you on his side, the softness of the bedding making your body feel heavy and sleepy, feeling a bit too lazy to want to keep the comfy sheets away.

“No.” Your whisper is quiet, soft. As if you were slowly fading away into sleep. “I have enough.” And he knows you’re telling the truth when you just give him a sleepy smile, a yawn escaping your lips as you cuddle against your pillow, eyes losing focus and turning the sight of your friend into a bleary blue and white.

”So I’m happy with just this.”

And he thinks you’ve really gone crazy.

“Good morning, Satoru…” Because you’re pretty sure you have yet to say it, as weird as it is when you’re in the midst of falling asleep.

“…morning.”

He’s fun to be around.

——

A couple weeks have passed, the same days of Satoru coming around to knock at your door too early in the morning, your sleep-deprived Mama getting the door and letting him in—

Only to end with both you and him sleeping in on your futon until early afternoon, when you both awaken only to play… Whatever, really. The playground, drawing at home, building pillow forts…

Mama tells you she doesn’t mind if he wants to come over, doesn’t mind if Satoru wants to play with you so often when she’s off to work. She tells you what really matters is what you want, that its up to you if you want him to come over this often, that it’s your choice to play with him.

(Mama described him once as ‘clingy’. You don’t know what that means, but you think it’s good. You have a friend. Your only friend.)

So you told him to only come once every 2 days, that you think too much interaction may ruin your alone time with Mama… Only to be met with a pout and eyes that teetered almost on watery even as you pat his head and apologise.

He still listened to you, though. Despite the glare to the side and the very evident pout on his face everytime he realises he doesn’t get to see you the next day—

Though, as of recently, Satoru had been the last thing on your mind. Your eyes taking interest in and stuck onto the house next door instead. It’s always been empty, more barren than your own. But it’s gotten ‘renovated’ as your Mama said, the walls losing their dull shade and obtaining a new shine, the boarded windows replaced with shiny, clear glass.

It looked really nice.

“Stop staring at the ugly house and look at me insteaddddddd!” Ever selfish, ever vying and whining for you to give him your undivided attention.

“(nameeeeeeeeeeee).”

“It’s not ugly, though.” You think it looks quaint, looks prettier than your own. “It looks pretty.” You’re curious what kind of people are gonna live there. Are they gonna be an old couple like how Satoru always claims? Maybe it’ll be a nice middle aged lady who likes to share her pickled vegetable dishes?

You just hope they’re nice.

“How much do you think it costs to rent-uh-vate?” Your stare is still pointed at the house next door, your window directly facing one of their rooms as you stare with curious intensity.

He narrows his eyes at the view of the empty rooms, the windows that still lacked curtains and the blank white of their freshly painted walls.

“Not much, I’m pretty sure.”

Probably not much in his terms, anyway.

“Mama said she thinks they’re gonna move in today.”

“Really? Then let’s watch ‘em later then.” He lets out a huff as he rolls around your floor, watching you settle down cross-legged next to him as he makes a grab for you. “I don’t wanna play at the playground t’day.”

“Oh. Okay then, let’s play the cards you brought then—“ Your words die on your lips, body reeling back to the window at the telltale beep of a horn, the loud rumbling of a truck starting to pull into the street just mere meters away from you.

And that has the both of you clambering up to the window, his hand holding yours to ensure you don’t fall as you both squeeze to stand on the same stool, hands pressed up against the glass as your cheeks squish against each other in hopes of getting a view of what these people will look like.

“If it’s not an old couple, can we play on the swing today?”

“Y’er on.”

Your eyes watch the dark blue Toyota pull in close behind, your heart starting to race in palpitating beats that make you think you’re gonna be sick.

“Looks cheap.” Satoru’s still as snarky as ever.

The passenger door swings open, mesmerizing you with the sight of someone new, someone unfamiliar; a stranger that you’ve never seen before. Your gaze is stuck, unable to leave the features that capture your mind first—

Black hair and purple eyes.

masterlist next

#jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #satosugu x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader

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ellabsprincess · 11 months

Note

Vi love your boobas! She will kiss them, lick them, suck them, sleep on them, everything!

When she’s come home from a long day, she just wants your boobs in her mouth! And you’ll be laying on the couch just talking to her about your day while she sucks<3

anon yes omfg get out of my brain!! <3 vi definitely has an oral fixation and loves to keep herself occupied with your tits in her mouth.

𝐕𝐈 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐅𝐈𝐗𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+, mdni, cute little smutty drabble, tit sucking, nipple play, sexual themes, vi being needy

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: @dropsofs4turn @hehatesmati @zethd @im-jinxs-trinket

𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐣𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭? 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

the tune of your favorite song blasts through your ears, your headphones blocking out the sound of any other unimportant disturbances. you move your head to the beat subconsciously, not even aware that you were moving and dancing while seated on your couch. you were scrolling through some app on your phone, nothing better to do than to burn time while you waited for your girlfriend to get home from work.

little did you know, she had just entered your shared apartment, and was standing back in the doorway, just admiring you so perfectly lost in your own little world. vi lived for little domestic moments like this, and she loved to come home to you blissful and upbeat.

not wanting to scare you, she slowly walks in front of the couch to be in your field of vision in your field of vision. the second you see her, your eyes light up in excitement and you fling yourself from the couch, not caring that your phone falls to the floor with a distinct clunk.

"vi! you're home! i didn't even hear you come in!" you squeal excitedly, running into her open arms.

"yeah cupcake, i'm home. missed you baby," it was a rough day for her at work, but she didn't want to think about that. not when she had her favorite person in her arms.

"c'mon, lets relax on the couch cupcake, didn't mean to interrupt you,"

...

your headphones and phone sat abandoned on the coffee table, your top and bra tossed aimlessly and recklessly to the floor.

your bottoms were left on, but nothing adorned your chest besides your necklaces and a series of wet hickeys across your neck and breasts.

your chest rose and fell with each breath and word expelled from your mouth, blabbering on about your day. you were detailed, wanting this moment to last as long as possible. as you described your eventful grocery spree or that morning, slurping and sucking sounds echo in the room, sourced from vi's lips enclosed around your tit, her hand pinching and teasing your other nipple. her spit and drool was all over your chest, but you couldn't care less. not when she looked so perfectly angelic and ethereal, her puppy dog eyes looking up at you ever so often to assure you she was listening while she lazily sucked and worshiped your tits.

the activity wasn't even foreplay for the both of you anymore, it became more of a peaceful daily ritual. sure, it was sexual, but it was more calming. it grounded vi after a tough day, and gave you time to rant to her and expel all your pent-up negative emotions from the day. it was beautiful and domestic more than anything.

vi lets out an occasional mhm, or quiet moan around your nipples as you recount the adventures of just that day, showing her agreement to your arguments with others, and getting lost in a hazy fog as she relaxes more than she's even been able to before.

eventually your fingers find their way to her hair, playing with the spiky ends and massaging her scalp. your nails scratch into her head, causing goosebumps to run down her body like insects crawling across her skin. she shivers a bit, but relishes in the pleasure of your hands.

she may come across as intimidating, overly dominant and even stubborn, but really, she just needs to be babied. she loves when she can be vulnerable with you, worship your body and play out all her desires while you pat her head and praise her for how good she makes you feel.

after at least an hour of vi curing her oral fixation with your beautiful chest in her mouth, you eat a quick dinner, haphazardly get ready for bed, and climb under the covers together, her head making it back to your chest once more. as you breathe softly, drifting off into the depths of your own mind, vi can only smile, as she herself falls asleep, close to your heart, the place she wishes to live forever.

#arcane show #arcane series #arcane netflix #vi arcane #vi x reader #vi x you #vi x reader smut #vi arcane smut #arcane drabble #arcane vi

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etherealising · 10 months

Text

chapter six | didn’t i do it for you?

masterlist | ↢ previous chapter | next chapter ↣

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader | platonic!richie jerimovich x fem!reader | platonic!natalie berzatto x fem!reader | platonic!neil fak x fem!reader

summary: carmy knows exactly what he wants regarding you, but past mistakes always come to rear their ugly heads

wc: 10.9k

a/n: hi lovies, this chapter may be a bit heavier than previous ones so please take the warnings extra seriously. if you are triggered by any warning please do not read this chapter i’ll literally message you a summary of the chapter if you need it. i may have missed some warnings so if that’s the case i do apologize it was not intentional. lastly please remember YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA COSUMPTION….enjoy 🩵

“You know, I-I don’t think my family meant to ruin it or anything like that, you know.”

Carmy was trying to be better, to be more open. And it was easiest at these Al-Anon meetings, no one knew him, and no one had any expectations of him.

“I-I don’t think they did it on purpose,” his hand subconsciously raised to the chain securely tucked under his crew neck, rubbing the metal through the fabric.

“I don-it’s not fair to blame them for everything,” a sardonic huff of laughter escaped Carmy as he thought of the words he was going to say. “I uh…I had a friend once…a best friend.”

“She was the first thing in life that I felt belonged to me,” Carmy frowned, having trouble articulating what he wanted to say. “And not li- I didn’t own her or anything, but she was my friend because she chose to be, not because she knew me through Mikey.”

“And then I…I fucked that relationship up myself…uhh and as I sat there trying to think of what provided amusement or joy in my life…I just thought of my childhood spent with her…by my side.” He cleared his throat forcing himself to remember that he would probably never interact with any of these people outside of these meetings.

Carmy’s hand dropped from its place where his covered chain sat, now gripping the armchair. “She’s uh she’s back in my life now and I…I want those things with her again I…I want to fix things with her, be the person she believes I am.”

Sydney’s curiosity the other day gave Carmy a lot to think about. He was so accustomed to looking at the picture above his stove daily, that he hadn’t even given it a second thought when he invited Sydney over. Her curiosity was understandable, the interactions you and Carmy shared hadn’t been the warmest but that Polaroid would suggest otherwise.

“Yeah. Anyway, I’m happy to be here.” Carmy sat straighter in his chair, if he could admit his wants albeit vaguely to a room of strangers, he could admit his feelings to you. “Thank you, guys. Thanks for letting me share.”

Then he saw you at the grocery store, comfortable in someone else’s arms. He wasn’t jealous, or at least he didn’t think he was. But reality slapped him in the face, so sure of himself that the two of you could pick up where you left off he didn’t stop to think that maybe you didn’t want that anymore.

And then like the idiot he was, he gave Claire your number. He wanted to believe it wasn’t on purpose, that he had memorized your number so well it was the first he thought of when asked.

Carmy left the meeting hoping Claire didn’t call the number he gave her, hoping that you would be open to rekindling whatever relationship was left between you two.

Your morning was off to a great start. Hayden surprised you with breakfast at the office and signed off on your article for The Bear as long as it didn’t get in the way of your work at The Tribune. The two of you even brainstormed the best way to go about telling the story.

Since your late-night grocery run with Hayden, the two of you had fallen back into the friendship you developed all those years ago. It felt good to be reconnected with him, and thankfully things weren’t awkward considering your past sexual history.

Neither of you admitted to it, but you both knew the opportunity to fall back into your old ways would soon present itself, you weren’t sure if it was an option you would take advantage of though. The two of you weren’t in college anymore and as pathetic as it sounded since your vulnerable conversation with Carmy the other day, your heart still held out hope that the two of you could build up the foundation for a romantic relationship.

Rounding the corner of Orleans Street you finally made it to your destination, happy to have taken in the fresh air mid-morning had to offer. You approached the door to the restaurant hoping someone would hear your knock and let you in.

You smiled as Sydney opened the door moving back to allow you in, you reached up to slide your headphones off as you greeted both her and Carmy.

“Good morning, is Nat in?” The text you received on the train ride over from the oldest Berzatto was pushed to the back of your mind until now.

The urgent ‘we need to talk,’ text had worried you at first, but you had rationalized that Nat could’ve been referring to anything.

“Uh yeah, she’s in the office.” You nodded at Syd giving her a small smile in thanks before turning to make your way to the back.

“Oh hey, do you like have a second or…” You stopped in your tracks turning back to face the two chefs looking between them curiously before nodding once more.

You smiled waiting for one of them to speak, “Uh yeah can we make this quick though I need to speak with Nat.” You did your best to sound nonchalant, the longer you stood out here the more your anxiety began to rise, mind racing with what Nat needed to speak with you about.

“Yeah yeah of course,” Sydney stepped away from the door moving near Carmy who had remained silent since your entrance. “We were thinking of sending Marcus to Copenhagen and I know you stayed there, not like in a weird way but because I read your articles you know.”

You nodded your head eyebrows raised as a signal for Sydney to continue. You did your best to ignore Carmy’s stare while Syd rambled on about their idea and how the trip would help to inspire Marcus.

“…So we were wondering if you had any suggestions?” Her raised eyebrows stared back at you.

“Sorry suggestions for what?” The confusion was easily readable on your face, Syd’s excitement at the prospect overwhelmed you.

You watched as the two chefs stared at you, Carmy’s signature blank stare and Syd’s slightly hurt reaction that you weren’t paying attention.

“Oh uh for accommodations…in Copenhagen.”

The question surprised you, eyes darting to Carmy before focusing back on Sydney. You knew Carmen spent time in Copenhagen, so the fact that they were asking you for suggestions seemed a bit redundant.

Albeit stunned by the questions you smiled moving towards where the two of them were sitting, memories of your month spent in Copenhagen playing in your mind like a movie. The trip was months before Mikey’s passing and now as you think about it, it felt like that was the last time you had fun, and lived life without the worry that so often filled you now.

A chuckle left your lips as you leaned against the counter looking from Syd to Carmy, “I uh I stayed with the chef I was profiling.” You bit your lip trying to contain the grin threatening to split your lips, “I still have his number I could call him if you want. He kind of owes me a favor anyway.”

Carmy’s arms fashioned themselves across his chest, a frown pulling at his eyebrows. There was so much he didn’t know about you including the fact that you had spent time in Europe with some mystery chef.

“Oh yeah? What uh-who was the chef you wrote about? Maybe I know him.” Carmy’s words surprised you, the look you exchanged with Sydney proved that he didn't come across as casual as he was trying to.

You raised from your position against the counter, “Chef Luca?” Your voice trailed off a bit before the smile you were trying to contain finally made its appearance, “He’s this amazing pastry chef, who’s so passionate about his craft it was like watching a master at work!”

Carmy watched as you gushed about his former colleague, annoyance clawing at his throat as he took notice of just how happy the memories made you.

“Luca even taught me how to make this crazy dessert he was still perfecting, I mean mine was nothing compared to his but it was honestly the most fun I’d had in so long.” You reminisced about your time spent with Luca, “Oh, and my peach cobbler? Yeah, he taught me the simple syr-.”

“No yeah, I’m familiar with him.” Both you and Sydney were pulled from your animated conversation; the tight smile on Carmy’s face alerted you of his irritation.

You nodded, feeling a little bad at your rambling, “Okay well I’ll just go see Nat now, let me know if you need me to make that call.” You drummed your hands against the counter before turning around to take your leave.

“Hey uh, Baby?” You turned your head before disappearing around the corner eyebrows raised as you looked at Carmy. “Do you think we could maybe talk later?” You watched as his hand came up to scratch the back of his neck.

Sydney watched the interaction play out between the two of you, a small smirk lining her lips as she watched how flustered Carmy got just by asking you a simple question.

Your lips tugged up into a small smile, “Sure thing Carm, I’ll come back when I’m done with Nat.”

Carmy was sure his heart was beating so loud Sydney could hear it, the nickname something he hadn’t heard spilled from your lips in so long. The small smile he briefly caught did wonders for his already lacking confidence, he was now sure more than ever that there was a chance to fix things with you.

You entered the office to see Natalie pouring over documents presumably to do with permits and money in regards to the restaurant. You took a step forward momentarily stopping at Nat’s voice.

“Close and lock the door behind you please,” The lack of eye contact was grating on your nerves, either Natalie was completely stressed about her role as project manager or you had yet again colossally fucked up.

You did as told not wanting to further irritate your very pregnant friend. The office was silent neither of you spoke up as Natalie finished looking over the latest paper she had picked up.

She looked exhausted and you felt horrible knowing you had potentially added more stress onto her already-loaded plate. Nat gave you a small smile though her eyes looked anything but happy.

“Cortez called me this morning,” Nat’s eyebrows raised as she pointedly stared at you. Your head fell back against the door a quiet ‘fuck’ mumbled into the air. “Said this was the third meeting you missed.”

Nat waited for you to return your attention to her, “I’m only going to ask you this once Baby, and I really need you to be honest with me.” Nat leaned forward in the chair, closing a bit of the space between you so you would hear her quiet voice, “Are you using again?”

You sighed leave it to Cortez to fucking snitch you out, you didn’t realize that being a snitch was a requirement if you were someone’s sponsor.

“Baby?” Your eyes connected with Nat’s the softness of her voice and the watery appearance in her eyes told you just how worried she was.

Your head shook back and forth rapidly as you raised your hand to massage your temples, “I’m not using Nat I promise. And I know that means jack shit coming from an addict but I promise I’m doing good.” You took a deep breath calming your budding agitation, you knew Nat was worried and it wasn’t her that you were annoyed at but yourself.

“I uh…I’ve been stuck on step eight since I joined this whole rebranding project, and I…I knew that Cortez would be persistent in me getting it done.” You grimaced at the fact that you had already missed three meetings, you hadn’t realized how far things had gotten, “It’s just things felt normal again and I guess I thought I could just pretend like everything was okay.”

Natalie nodded as she listened to your explanation, she hated it but there was always a part of her that would be apprehensive. She had seen the manipulation substance abuse breeds firsthand when she stayed with you in the hospital after your overdose, it hurt her to see you hurting. To sit back and watch as the withdrawal symptoms ate away at you as you would fiend for a fix that you took your pain out on her and Pete.

Nat quickly turned to where her purse was sitting pulling out a box the two of you were all too familiar with.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Your face scrunched up in anger, the emotion slowly residing as you watched Nat close her eyes and take a deep breath in. You felt like a complete asshole you knew Nat wasn’t doing this of her own volition and you had no one to blame but yourself for the predicament you were now in.

“Nat shit, I’m sorry you didn’t deserve that. But you really can’t expect me to take that here.” Your hand thrust out to the box that seemed to be taunting you.

“Baby you know the rules. I don’t like this as much anymore than you but when you just decide you don’t need to meet with your sponsor anymore, these are the measures we have to resort to.”

“Lead the way, Mom.” Natalie let out a small chuckle at your antics, thankful that you were being somewhat logical, “Wait is there a bag we can throw this away in, we can’t just leave the evidence in the bathroom.” The two of you turned to search through the office sure you would find a stray plastic bag lying somewhere.

You popped up, a plastic baggie securely in your grasp, “Does the toilet even work?” Nat shrugged, walking past you and making her way to the bathroom leaving you to follow behind.

“Aww yeah, party in the bathroom! Am I invited?” Nat stopped as Fak stood in front of the two of you hastily moving the bag behind her back doing her best to be inconspicuous.

“Sorry my love girls only, maybe next time,” Nat gave Fak a pat on the shoulder and her signature smile before maneuvering the two of you around him.

“Wait, is it that time of the month for us? Cause I think our cycles might be synced, I’ve been having the most insane cramps lately.” The words that left Fak’s mouth would never cease to surprise you.

“You know, I think you might be right Fak, my lower back has been killing me.” You indulged in Fak’s shenanigans, the man falling in line to walk with you as the two of you followed Natalie to the front.

Fak nodded along with you “No I’m like feeling it, should I invest in a heating pad?”

You snickered at Fak, “I usually just fill up a sock with rice and throw it in the microwave.” You shrugged like the conversation was a completely normal occurrence. “The first day is always the worst for me, my breasts get so tender.”

Fak raised his own hands to his chest cupping his pecs “Baby tell me about it, it’s just like one touch and I’m crying.” You could see Carmy’s confused look from your peripheral as your group finally made it to the bathroom.

“I could totally massage your breast Fak, but you would have to return the favor. It's only fair if you’re a part of the sisterhood.” You watched as Fak nodded his head rapidly, hands raising in the air and hovering in front of your breast.

“Wait, is this an actual thing?”

“Oh yeah me and Nat do it all the time, that’s actually why we’re going to the bathroom now.” Fak’s eyes darted to Nat before looking back at his hands inching closer to your breast.

“Wait no, I don’t want Carmy to be mad at me.” The two of you looked in Carmy’s direction, the man still watching just as confused as earlier.

You shrugged before turning back to Fak, “I can assure you Carmy would not give a single fuck if you touched my breast, Neil.”

The aforementioned man took in a gasp of breath before clearing his throat and slowly moving down the counter to get a better listen at what the hell the two of you were doing.

You, Nat, and Carmy waited to see what Fak’s next move would be, the smile raising to your face hard to keep under wraps, Fak was adorably easy to mess with.

Fak’s hands began to inch forward concentration clear as day on his face before a small shriek left his lips, “Baby I’m sorry, Carmy’s my best friend, I don’t think I can do this for you.”

You laughed at the disappointment in Fak’s voice, “Your loss babes, I know 16-year-old Fak would’ve killed for this moment.” Your hand raised to pat his cheek before you finally left his side and entered the bathroom as Nat held the door open for you.

“She was lying to you my love, we don’t massage each other's breasts.” With those last words, Nat shut the door on a disappointed Fak and a mildly annoyed Carmy.

Fak turned back to look at Carmy with an apology in his eyes, “I’m so sorry Carmy, teenage Fak was really fighting to come out right now but I know Baby’s your girl.”

Carmy frowned at Fak’s words, the irritation running through him at yours and Fak’s stupid antics. “She’s uh…she’s not my girl. Baby and I are just friends.”

Fak smiled widely in Carmy’s direction, “That’s great, you really should think about getting a girlfriend then, I just want you to be happy Carmy.” Fak began walking to the back to help move the appliances. Carmy let out a chuckle as he heard Fak mumble about missing his once-in-a-lifetime chance.

Carmy shook his head back and forth, having you back really was just like old times. He wouldn’t ever say anything out loud but Carmy was actually really glad he didn’t have to stand there and watch Fak fondle you.

“Pete said the two of you have a lunch date planned.” Your head shot up to Nat, the air had been a little stilted between the two of you since she had brandished the drug test.

A laugh bubbled out of you, “Doesn’t seem like the proper environment for a casual chat Nat.” You gestured to the dinghy bathroom you were in, emphasizing the urine sample sitting on the sink while the two of you awaited the results.

You watched the smile rise to Natalie’s lips, a somber look overcast on her face, “I’m not doing this because I want to Baby.” Nat’s voice took on a gravelly tone.

Natalie didn’t deserve this, she had already basically nursed you back to health once. And now here she and Pete were about to bring a life into this world, and here you were a grown adult still expecting everyone else to fix your problems. You knew Natalie didn’t need the stress and worry your life choices brought forth and if your overdose wasn’t a wake-up call enough, then Nat’s haggard appearance as you two stood in the bathroom sure was.

“I know and I apologize Nat. Really livin' up to my nickname aren’t I?” Nat chuckled listening to your apology. “There’s no excuse for my behavior. I know what’s expected of me I-”

Your words were cut off by the shrill ringing of your phone. The noise caused the two of you to jolt in the small bathroom. You quickly removed the device from your back pocket, it was a Chicago area code, but you already had everyone you knew here saved in your contacts.

“You gonna answer that?” Your eyes flashed to Nat, her eyebrows raised in question.

You took one last glance at the number trying to place it before clicking the power button and slipping it back into your pocket, “If it’s important they’ll leave a voicemail.”

“Anyway, I shouldn’t constantly depend on you to clean up my messes Nat, I don’t think I’ve been the best friend recently. And it should be you depending on me considering,” you waved your hand over her figure scared that if you spoke the word someone might hear. “I promise to do better Nat, I want to be around to help with the little gremlin.”

Nat raised her hand to wipe the few tears that were falling, making her way over to pull you into an embrace, “These damn hormones make me so emotional.”

You chuckled rubbing up and down Natalie’s back, “You’d be crying even if you weren’t compromised.”

The hug lasted up until the timer on Nat’s phone sounded, signaling the results were ready. The two of you pulled apart, with Nat sending you a reassuring smile.

It didn’t matter if you knew you hadn’t touched any substances since your hospitalization, you would always be nervous when it was time to read off the results. You waited with bated breath as Nat read over the testing stick, you would set up a meeting with Cortez as soon as you got the chance.

The sigh of relief Natalie let out stung you a bit, but you could understand her apprehension it wasn’t easy trusting a recovering addict.

“It’s negative Babes.” A sigh of relief left you.

A wide grin raising to your lips, “I told you so.” Nat rolled her eyes at the sing-song sound of your voice.

The two of you made quick work of cleaning up the bathroom, small talk about your future lunch with Pete floating around as you made sure all evidence was disposed of in the plastic bag.

Carmy watched as Sugar exited the bathroom the same drugstore bag from earlier in her hand. He sent a nod in her direction as she smiled at him before making her leave. Carmy was set to meet up with Syd in 30 minutes but he was hoping to speak with you before he took his leave, unsure if you would still be here later.

He returned his attention to the calendars with the timeline to open, checking off things that had already been taken care of and adding anything he wanted to double-check.

“You free to talk now, Carm?” He turned at the sound of your voice, a shy smile lining his cheeks as he took in the smile on your lips.

“Uh yeah, yeah if you’re free,” You nodded, coming to stand across from Carmy the old counter directly between you two.

Carmy’s eyes took in the sweater you were wearing, similar to the style in his but while his was a nice grey color, yours was a deep green. The familiarity of the crew neck finally dawned on him as he realized it was his crew neck you were wearing, the last time he saw it was the night he left you in his apartment all those months ago expecting to still see you there when he returned home.

It was silent as the two of you stared at each other, a giggle escaped your lips at the lost look on Carmy’s face. “What’d you wanna talk about Carmy?”

Carmy nodded trying to remove the memories from his mind, “I uh…I know I ruined our friendship and…and whatever was left of it.” He paused, eyes falling to the crew neck carefully wrapped around you, the memory of watching you get dressed after the shower you shared swimming around in his head, the extra pictures of the two of you tucked safely into his bedside drawer.

“Carm hey,” he watched as your knuckles knocked against the counter to bring him back to the present time.

“Yeah, I uh I just have a lot I think we should talk about Baby, and maybe the restaurant wasn’t the best place for it.” He reached up to scratch the back of his neck, nerves running haywire.

You nodded a serious look painted on your face, you were sure you knew what Carmen wanted to speak about but you also had secrets of your own you wanted to share with him.

“I…I want us to try and be friends again or at least be cordial with each other…if that’s not too much to ask.” Carmy huffs out a breath of laughter, eyes latching onto your figure in front of him.

He watches as you appear to be thinking, most likely retracing the path of your relationship through the years memories running through your head that he has absolutely no idea exists.

“Carmy, you’ve never not been my friend but a lot of your choices hurt m-.” Your phone rang again echoing off the walls in the front of the restaurant.

You gave Carmy a small smile before removing your phone, the number that’s calling you is the same one that called while you were in the bathroom with Nat earlier. You raise your finger to Carmy, gesturing that you need to take the call.

“Hello.” You wait as the other line stays quiet.

“Baby?”

You frown looking up at Carmy as he watches you hoping your call ends soon, “Uh I’m sorry who is this?”

“Oh, it’s me, uh…Claire. We lived down the street from each other as kids?” A gasp escaped your lips, surprised that she was calling you.

You move the phone from your mouth. Hand moving up to cover it as your eyes find Carmy’s “It’s Claire.” Your whisper takes a moment to register in his ears, too caught up in the bright smile on your face.

“Wow, it's so good to hear from you. Um, I hope I don’t sound rude but how exactly did you get my number?” You watched as Carmy ran a hand across his mouth, eyes wide your name slipped past his lips the dire need to get you off that call racing through him.

You held your finger up to him signaling to give you a moment, too wrapped up in miraculously connecting with an old friend.

“Oh um, this is going to sound weird. I uh…I ran into Carmy the other night at the grocery store and when I asked him for his number…this is the number he gave me.” You listened as Claire spoke, the smile quickly disappearing from your lips as your eyes found Carmy’s alarmed ones.

“Carmen gave you my number?” You watched the regret flash through his eyes.

“Mhm.”

“And claimed it was his?”

“Uh kinda yeah, it’s a bit weird but maybe he was just planning to call you or something.” A small laugh left your lips, if he hadn’t called you since he last saw you, you could bet he had no plans to ever call you.

“Yeah…fuckng bizarre.” You could feel the lump forming in your throat.

“Sorry if this is weird but do you think you could give me his number?” It felt like senior year all over again and you were the bridge between these two souls

An ironic smile rose to your lips as you stared directly at Carmy, the panic glaringly obvious in his eyes because he couldn’t hear Claire’s responses.

“Oh, Claire Bear I’m so sorry I haven’t spoken to Carmy in what’s it been?” You paused your glare on Carmy impenetrable.

“Five years, since high school graduation. I don’t even have his number.” The crack in your voice was evident to all who could hear, Carmy wished he could disappear at that moment.

“Oh no, is everything okay with you two?”

“You’re too sweet. You know how it is people change, they grow apart. I just think Carmy outgrew me.” It was becoming harder and harder to swallow your tears.

“Wow, I’m sorry to hear that Baby. But I heard you're back in Chicago, maybe we can catch up?”

“Claire I’d love that, hey before you go try Fak for Carmy’s number I’ve heard they’re extremely close now, have a great rest of your day!” You listened as Claire said her goodbyes quickly, hanging up and placing your phone back in its designated pocket.

It was silent as you raised your head to the ceiling, a disbelieving laugh escaped your lips as you felt the tears trace down your cheeks. You were getting fucking tired of crying.

“Baby hey, hey let me exp-,” Carmy’s pleas were cut short as both of your eyes shot to his now ringing phone on the counter. Neither of you needed to be a fucking genius to figure out who was ringing Carmy’s line.

“Answer quickly Carmen, your little girlfriend is calling.” You knew it was petty and you shouldn’t be upset with Claire for chasing after what she wanted, but for once you didn’t want to be the one fighting for scraps of Carmy’s affection.

You didn’t want to have to share.

His hand quickly shot out pressing the power button on the side silencing the ringing, taking the extra step and turning it face down as he watched you just stare at it.

“Baby I-,”

“Why are you the way you are?” You were tired of putting Carmy and his feelings ahead of yourself, tired of running yourself ragged to accommodate your feelings for a grown man who was too scared of the truth.

“I-” You took a deep breath to collect your thoughts. “I’m so hurt right now Carmen and I want to be angry, I want to be so fucking angry with you but I’m just hurt and exhausted, and I…I really don’t even want to waste my breath on you right now, but I’ve put up with a lot of your shit and I think I’m just done.” Carmy flinched at the sardonic laugh you let loose.

“It hurts Carmen…it hurts when the person you’ve been truly in love with for most of your life doesn’t even treat you like an option.” You ignored the sharp intake of breath that came from Carmen’s direction, surprised he even had the guts to listen to your rant.

The ringing in his ears along with your broken voice overwhelmed him.

“I have lived so much of my life for you and yeah I was stupid for that, but all I wanted was your happiness and all I wanted was happiness with you. I have given so much of myself to you Carmen I have lost pieces of u- of myself to you, Carmen.” The tears were raining down in full force.

It was one thing to cry when you were hurt but to cry out of anger and exhaustion would probably always be the worst feeling.

“All I wanted was for you to love me the way I loved you…the way I will continue loving you after today because the way I feel for you won’t just go away Carmen it will be stuck with me forever! What I lost to you will be stuck with me forever! And…and we spend this amazing weekend together and I accept that you can’t commit to me and I give you the benefit of the doubt because Mikey just died and you…fuck.” Your hand slammed against the counter top your thoughts all over the place.

“You take my number that you’ve had for a year and you give it to some girl that you had some stupid pathetic high school fucking crush on. I’m not even worth a fucking phone call to you Carmen! And I…I’m not even supposed to be here right now but you wouldn’t fucking know because your too much of a fucking coward to allow yourself to be loved to be happy!”

You could feel the oncoming migraine from how loud you were shouting, you did your best to ignore the gathering crowd, Nat and Richie at the forefront watching with worried glances, as Marcus Fak and the rest of the crew peaked through from the back.

A shuddering breath floated through your lips as you felt the lifetime of exhaustion catch up with you. “I almost gave you all of me Carmen. Please just leave me alone” The words escaped your throat in a hoarse whisper. You were so far gone that you couldn’t even see the look of heartbreak and despair marring Carmen’s features.

“Baby, hey!” Your eyes shot to Richie as he blocked your line of vision to Carmen's. Head shaking back and forth arms slowly reaching out before coming to rest on your biceps thumbs gently massaging into them. “Let’s take a break Baby calm down a bit yeah?” He nodded his head waiting for you to nod along before he led you to the back, making sure to block your view of Carmen.

You were shaking as the two of you made your way past Nat a whispered ‘I’m sorry’ leaving your lips as she was left to deal with the mess that was Carmy.

“Fuck!” The loud crashes of a heavy object slamming into the floor caused you to jump in Richie’s hold as he led you back into the office.

Little tremors shook through your body as Richie carefully guided you to sit in the lone office chair. Taking his position by your legs as he squatted in front of you, worry etched into his features at having never seen you react like that.

Your hands came to grip Richie's, the tear tracks on your face now dried, you were almost positive you had run out of tears to cry.

“I lost everything, Richie,” your voice was strained. “And I…I spared him because I knew he couldn’t handle it, you knew he couldn’t handle it…not after Mikey.”

Richie’s eyes squeezed closed as he raised your intertwined hands to his forehead, haunting memories of you forcing their way through. He dropped your hands delicately cupping your face to press a kiss on your forehead, “I know Baby.” The words were spoken softly against your skin.

The two of you sat in that position as you gained control of your ragged breathing.

“I’m a hypocrite, Rich,” you separated yourself from him, locking eyes. “I blamed Carmy for so much out there…but I’ve done something so unforgivable, I don’t think you’ll look at me the same.” You wanted to cry but the exhaustion ate away at you.

“Hey I’ve been through some shit Baby, we’ve been through some shit, nothing,” the firm grip on your chin reminded you of the lost soul who should’ve been in the room with you two. “Look at me when I’m talking to you. Nothing you say will change how I look at you.”

It was always weird to see Richie serious and the voice of reason, not that he didn’t have his moments, but seeing Rich without his signature smile made it feel like you had stripped him of something so personal.

“How bout this, Sug or I take you before you beat Carmy’s ass,” the sentence drew a small laugh out of you. “And then I’ll come over when I’m done here, pick up some dinner and we’ll have one of those nights like we used to when…when Mikey was still here.” You nodded your head not having enough energy to produce words.

Richie patted your knee rising to his full height as he headed to check on Sug and his idiot of a fucking cousin. “Oh hey, I’ll have Eva tonight, you don’t mind do you? She’s constantly on my ass about seeing her auntie Bebe.” Richie stood in the now open doorway awaiting your answer.

Your immediate response was yes, but you had to consider Tiff, unsure if she wanted her daughter around you considering your newly acquired title as recovering addict.

“I’d like that a lot, but I-I think you should get Tiff’s permission to bring Eva around me.” You knew your suggestion might upset Richie but it was for the best, and you would call Tiff yourself just to double-check.

“Hey no none of that shit, she’s my fucking kid too Baby.” The defensive tone in his voice immediately caused you to close your eyes, hands moving to massage your temples.

“Richie please, I just need you to do this for me okay? This isn’t about your parenting skills, Rich.” Richie watched you for a minute, the exhaustion noticeable.

He nodded sending you one last somber look before making his exit keen on chewing his little fucking asshole cousin a new one.

Richie could feel his anger rising in him as he walked past Marcus and Fak as they worked to remove appliances from the kitchen. He quickly sauntered toward the whispers of Sugar and Carmy becoming clearer as he finally made it to the front of the restaurant.

The first thing his eyes took notice of was the destroyed cash register lying in the middle of the floor, debris from the relic scattered across the room. Richie stood there taking in the scene, the two Berzatto siblings' conversation coming to a halt as Richie blew out a whistle, walking around the mess slowly clapping.

“You’re a real fucking piece of work Cousin,” Richie’s hand shot out to point in Carmy’s direction the younger man looking disheveled, the frown on his face almost comical.

Natalie felt her shoulders tense; she had known these two long enough to know nothing good would come out of this interaction. The fact that you were in the middle of all this would make whatever happened right now all the worse.

There were two things in the world Richie didn’t play about, little Eva; and you.

“Richie I don’t need your fucking bullshit right now.” Carmy moved to walk around the counter, hands fumbling in his pocket to get his cigarettes out, his focus on the door he was trying to escape through.

“You’re a piece of shit cousin.” Richie’s hands shot out to grip the collar of Carmy’s crew neck, shoving him into the counter.

Natalie’s shocked gasp of Richie’s name did nothing to tear the men away from each other.

“Get the fuck outta my face, Richie.” The shorter man shoved the man standing in front of him.

A rueful smile raised to Richie’s lips “That girl has bent over backward for your conceited ass time and time again, and you go and ruin the only good fucking thing you have going for yourself.” Richie’s hand raised thumb and middle finger moving to flick Carmy between the brows.

“You’re the last person that gets to talk to me about fucking ruining good things in my life.” Carmy’s free hand moved to swat at Richie’s.

“That empty fucking head of yours is so far up your ass you can’t see what the fucks been in front of you this whole time.

“Yo fuck you, Richie!”

The two loud voices echoed throughout the restaurant as the angry men tried to outyell each other.

“No you fucking listen to me! You don’t know what the fuck that girls been through. Where the fuck were you when shit went down Carmen! Huh!” Richie shoved Carmy again, the anger he felt for you pouring through him.

“Why the fuck weren’t you there for her whe-.”

“Richie!” Natalie’s stern voice caused Richie to harness some of his anger. “No.” The subtle shake of her head stopped his sentence mid-thought.

“You’re worse than the shit on the bottom of my shoe, and you don’t deserve to touch one pretty little hair on that girl’s head. And if I ever have to listen to her cry over you, watch her hurt over you again, you’re gonna wish Mikey was still here to save your ass.” Richie’s hand shot out to slap against the side of Carmen’s head, “Fucking bum.”

He removed himself from Carmy’s space, hands immediately raising as he faced Nat’s exhausted stare. “Sug I’m sorry, but get Baby home will you? I gotta finish up shit round here.”

Richie left the two Berzatto siblings to stand in the now quiet front of the restaurant, the sooner he finished his shit here, the sooner he and Eva could spend the evening with you.

Natalie looked at her younger brother scared of how this sequence of events would affect him. She took a step forward hand reaching out to Carmy before dropping it, “Hey, you okay?” The two siblings stood in silence, one worried about the well-being of her remaining brother.

And the other was trying to collect his racing thoughts, too many zooming through for him to even land on one.

“Where are we with the permits?” To Carmy’s ears, it sounded like he was underwater, his voice muffled, barely loud enough to be heard.

“Carm-.” Nat’s words were cut off with no chance of consoling him.

“Just get her home Nat and get back to me on those permits please.” Natalie watched as Carmy collected his phone and jacket, an unfocused wave of his hand sent in her direction before making his way through the exit, disappearing to who knows where.

Natalie watched as the front door latched shut, she couldn’t help but feel guilty for pushing you into this environment. If she had just let you re-acclimate yourself on your own time, maybe this situation could’ve been avoided.

Her hand fell to her stomach, eyes following suit, “Welcome to the family little one.”

The sound of your doorbell constantly ringing tore your stare away from the bottle sitting on your coffee table. You sat still for a minute before remembering the plans you made with Richie earlier in the day, your eyes shooting to the bottle before you quickly moved to hide it behind one of the couch pillows.

Since Natalie dropped you off earlier you had gone back and forth with the idea of finally coming clean to Richie. Your decision was led by your emotions from earlier in the day, but after finding the bottle of champagne you received in The Tribune’s welcome basket shoved in the back of your pantry, you were sorely rethinking your decision.

You adjusted the pillow to disguise any misshapen lumps before hurrying to the door to greet your guest. Hoping the forced smile was enough you opened the door feeling the once-fake smile begin to settle into a genuine one as you took in the father-daughter duo on your porch.

“Auntie Bebe!” You laughed, a lump forming in your throat at how big the young girl seemed to have gotten.

“Little E is that you?” Eva giggled at the exaggerated gasp you let out before throwing herself against your legs squeezing you tight.

She unlatched herself from you before gripping your hand and moving into the house, “Daddy bought us pizza!”

“Hey, Eva take your shoes off.” Richie gave you a small smile as he scolded the little girl, her huff of annoyance not going unnoticed by the two of you.

Richie finally walked through the door shutting and locking it behind him staring at you as he waited for instructions, “Hey E go ahead to the living room and pick out something to watch okay? I’m gonna help your dad real quick.”

You were rewarded with her adorable smile as she ran in the direction you pointed her to. You turned back to Richie taking the two pizza boxes from his hand to allow him to remove his shoes and jacket.

The two of you made your way to the kitchen setting the boxes down on your island with a clear view of Eva scrolling through your tv. You maneuvered around the kitchen for plates before brandishing them to Richie, eyes caught on Eva’s small figure in your living room.

“She’s gotten so big,” the tears you thought had run out earlier were once again making their appearance.

Richie’s head turned to you, “Aww Baby look at you ready to cry and shit, you just saw her a year ago.”

You listened to Richie’s intoxicating laugh, trying your best to find the humor in his words. The notion was hard though when the last memory you could’ve had of the sweet little girl waiting for the two of you in the living room was holding her at a funeral that could have just as easily been yours.

“You coming Baby?” Richie’s raised brows were aimed at you, he had already made his way to the living room setting the smaller plate in front of Eva.

You cleared your throat nodding your head with a forced smile on your lips. It was settled, Richie had every right to know that there could have been a universe where he had to survive without Mikey and you.

Eva was cuddled into your side as your fingers stoked through her blonde locks, her smaller hand playing with the rings on your free hand. The two of you sat staring at the paused episode of ‘The Dragon Prince’ waiting for Richie to return from the bathroom.

Sitting with Eva in your living room made your heart heavy with what could’ve been. A small sad smile traced your lips as you leaned forward to plant a soft kiss on the crown of her head.

Eva’s head turned to yours, her tongue poking out at you as you returned the gesture, the two of you going back and forth making silly faces at each other before she released a small yawn. You watched as her small hand rose to gently run her little fingers across the scars on your face.

“Auntie Bebe?” You made a small noise to let her know you were listening. “Are you going to die?”

Your brows pinched together, Eva’s hand prodded at the scar between your eyebrows that was now more prominent, “Hey hey, where is this coming from?”

Her hand lowered to her lap as she turned her attention back to your ring-clad hand. “Mommy said you were sick…like Uncle Mikey…and that you tried to be with him.”

The ache in your chest was instant, you knew Tiff had tried to explain why you hadn’t visited but you didn’t know Eva had such an understanding of everything.

She raised your hand so it was in front of the two of you, little fingers dancing across yours, “And Uncle Mikey left us 'cause he was sick and I don’t want you to leave to Bebe.”

“Little E, look at me,” you waited as she adjusted next to you small body, cuddling into you more as her face turned to you. “I was sick…just like Uncle Mikey, but I’m doing a lot better now. And I got hurt, that’s why I have these scars on my face but a lot of good people helped me, like Auntie Nat, and even your mom.”

You stopped allowing the child to digest your words, you were trying to explain things in the simplest terms, and the small girl next to you didn’t need to know any of the details. “As much as I miss Uncle Mikey I could never leave behind my Little E.”

Eva shrieked as you moved forward to tickle her doing your best to make a very tough conversation end on a light note for the sweet little girl who brought joy to your world.

“How about some ice cream, yeah?” You watched as the small girl nodded up and down excitedly, her arms coming up to wrap around your neck as she planted a small kiss on your cheek.

“I missed you, Auntie Bebe.”

Your hand reached out to ruffle the girl's hair, “I missed you too Little E.” She removed herself from around you laying across the empty couch cushions.

You let out a little laugh before grabbing the empty plates and moving to the kitchen to get Eva her ice cream. You jumped at the sight of Richie leaning against the island in your kitchen arms crossed against his chest.

“Why are you standing in my kitchen like a fucking weirdo Richie,” you laughed moving to place the plates in the sink before grabbing a bowl for the ice cream. “Eva’s okay to have ice cream right, I know it's a little late bu-”

“What the hell was Eva talking about Baby,” you looked over your shoulder Richie’s stern eyes focused on you eyes piercing through you as opposed to at you.

You sat the bowl and ice cream on the island before searching for your ice cream scooper, the silence droning on as you began scooping out ice cream for Eva.

“I fucked up Richie,” you finally looked up to Richie eyes wet with tears as you watched him tightly shut his eyes and begin shaking his head back and forth. Not prepared for what he was about to hear.

You quickly finished with ice cream, returning everything to its location and dropping the scoop in the sink before grabbing a spoon. You made your way to Eva sending her a small smile as you handed the bowl to her, “I need to talk to your daddy okay? Go ahead and finish watching without us mamas.” Your words went in one ear and out the other, her attention fully on the treat in her hands. You gave her one last smile before braving yourself for what the kitchen had in store for you.

“I uh…I was in a bad place after Chicago we had just buried Mikey and then…the hospital happened,” you stopped taking a deep breath to get through this conversation. “I should’ve come home Richie I-.” You couldn’t get the words out your throat felt like it was constricting. It felt as though if you tried confessing you would choke on the words before you could even come clean to Richie.

Richie sat next to you at your small circular dining table chair turned towards you, eyes flicking to Eva’s figure every few seconds to make sure she was okay. Richie wasn’t even sure he wanted you to continue, but a huge part of him needed to know what you went through, he thought he had already seen you at your lowest point but the gravity of your words assured him that was nothing compared to the confession you were about to lay at his feet.

“I overdosed Rich.” Richie froze having thought he hadn’t heard you correctly for a second but as he watched the despair take over your face, he knew he heard you right.

His hand came up to wipe across his mouth, the reality of your words barely setting in. “Baby no, no, no, no.” The laugh that accompanied his words morphed into a silent sob as he tucked his head into his hands.

You swallowed your cry fighting to escape as you turned to make sure Eva was still okay, a reprieve from the hard conversation you were having.

You moved from your chair standing in front of Richie so you could console him, his arms wrapped around your waist as his head settled against your stomach, the shaking of his body proof to you that cries were still wracking his body.

The silent sobs turned into quiet cries, his hands gripping the extra fabric of your shirt at the waist. Your tears could no longer be held back bending at the waist you rested your forehead against the back of Richie’s head.

While Richie was crying over the sister he almost lost; you cried over the lives you ruined.

“Auntie Bebe I finished my ice cream!” You took in a deep breath against Richie’s head moving your own from its previous position.

You moved to step out of Richie’s grip, his hands tightening around your shirt tears seeping through to dampen your skin. “I gotta help E, I promise I’ll be back Richie.”

The breath you took in choked you as you had to pry Richie’s clenched fingers out of the fabric of your shirt. You quickly wiped your cheeks before making your way over to Eva grabbing the bowl from her hands and sending her a forced smile.

“Can I spend the night Bebe?” The hope in her eyes made your chest heave.

“How about I call your mom tomorrow and we arrange something for another time, is that okay with you?” Your hands brushed across her forehead, clearing the hair from her face.

She pouted, sinking into the couch cushion, “E, hey you can come visit me whenever, but tonight just isn’t a good night for a sleepover.”

You watched as her eyes began to water, “But what if you try to leave again?” You hadn’t realized how intuitive children could be at times, you bent down to make yourself eye level with Eva.

“Listen, mamas, I’m just a phone call away okay? Anytime you’re scared I might be gone just ask your mom or dad to call me and I’ll answer every time, I promise.” Everyone knew making promises to children was a slippery slope, but you intended on keeping this promise with every ounce of your being, it was time for you to start taking some responsibility.

Eva nodded her head throwing her little arms around your neck and gracing you with a hug you weren’t aware you needed. You gave a small kiss to her temple before pulling away and setting the empty bowl on your coffee table.

“How about you lay down okay? Your dad and I might be awhile,” She nodded, moving and leaning against the pillow, her sudden weight revealing the champagne bottle you had hidden behind it, you quickly covered her with the throw blanket on your couch before picking up the bowl and bottle and making your way back to the kitchen.

You gently placed the bowl in the sink before making your way over to Richie whose head was still in his hands. His eyes found yours as he heard you take your seat, before skating across the unopened bottle you had set between the two of you.

“I’ve been sober for five months now,” watching Richie’s bloodshot eyes slowly blink at you as he drank your every word in felt like a knife being continuously shoved through your chest. “No drugs, no alcohol.” Your voice trailed off, this was the first time you had admitted your shortcomings by choice.

“Ho-How’d it happen?” Your eyes focused on Richie’s Adam’s apple as it bobbed up and down, his face pinching together like asking that simple question was equivalent to swallowing glass.

“I uh don’t know the full story, just what the doctors told Nat and me,” you could see the hurt on his face that Nat was already privy to the information. “I didn’t tell her by choice, uh after my mom died my family kind of distanced themselves from me and so N-Nat became my power of attorney.”

He nodded his head, unfocused eyes floating around your kitchen, “Can you tell me?”

A tired sigh left you “Rich I don’t thi-,”

“I need to know Baby, please.” His hand shot out to grip yours, desperation you had never before seen seeping from his eyes.

You cleared your throat taking in a deep breath, “When I left Chicago, I just felt so…alone. It was like everywhere I looked there was either a reminder of Mikey or a reminder of…of what we lost.” Richie’s free hand returned to swipe across his mouth, eyes everywhere but you.

“The pills were prescription I…I can’t remember when I started taking them or when the dependency started but I-I know the alcohol started first. I deluded myself into thinking that I could do what Mikey couldn't…that I could numb the pain and function at the same time.

“It was like that for a while and then it just gradually got worse until I ended up hospitalized with no recollection of how I even got there and…and Natalie just crying and staring at me and the thing is I had heard those cries from her once before.” The same cries you listened to as she revealed Mikey’s fate to you.

“Um, the story is that I had been mixing drugs and alcohol which yeah I was. But that day I guess it finally went too far, for some reason I was trying to get to my patio and I guess I couldn’t figure out the door, I just…repeatedly threw myself into the glass until it shattered.” Your free hand moved unconsciously to pick at the scar lining the right side of your jaw, Richie’s hand quickly snatching it away urging you to continue your story.

“Wasn’t done yet though was I,” you looked at Richie expecting a chuckle out of him but the stoic look in his eyes told you he wasn’t in the mood for half-baked jokes. “I took two more pills and stumbled bloody through my apartment before making it out of my door and collapsing in a pool of my blood and vomit. A neighbor found me and called the ambulance.” You were glad you had no recollections of what would’ve been your final moments.

The silence in the kitchen was heavy, the words you had shared between the two of you more than anything Richie could have ever prepared himself for.

“Baby why…why didn’t you call me?” Richie’s hand covered his mouth in a fist as another cry escaped his lips wide teary eyes finally focused on yours.

“I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me.” Richie could feel his heart breaking as he listened to the crack in your voice as you spoke, you had been so scared to disappoint him that you had hidden a part of yourself for him for so long.

“How long have you been in Chicago? You avoided Richie’s gaze, not brave enough to see the look of hurt and betrayal.

“I spent a month in Wisconsin at a treatment facility, I’ve been in Chicago since December.”

“And Tiff knew about this?”

“Yeah…uh she kind of forced it out of Natalie, I guess Eva kept asking about me.” You watched as Richie’s head slowly nodded as he carefully let your words play in his head.

Richie leaned forward in his chair, elbows coming to rest on his knees as his clasped hands rested against his mouth.

“I’m not disappointed in you Baby,” Richie’s eyes rose to yours. “But I’m real fuckin hurt and the shit you just laid on me was a lot to take in but I…I want to understand and I want to be here for you.”

The tears that had subsided were now back pouring down your face in droves, “I’m so sorry Richie, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. But I promise you I’m trying to be better, I will be better. I don’t think I'll get another shot at this after this one.”

Richie stood from his chair pulling you up with him, immediately tugging you into his chest hugging you tightly under the ambient kitchen lighting. He knew his hugs would never match up to Mikey’s, that his role in your life would never compare to Mikey's. But he loved you so much and learning that you had fallen victim to the same poison as Mikey made him feel like an utter failure.

Richie tilted his head down planting a kiss on the crown of your head, the saltiness of his tears passing over his lips.

What purpose did he have if he couldn’t even keep his last promise to Mikey?

Carmen’s day had come to an end hours ago but he just couldn’t get himself to fall asleep, all the words you had said to him playing over and over again in his head.

He had been so caught up in your argument that he blew his food-hopping plans off with Syd, and couldn’t even get himself to return any of the many missed phone calls he received from the number he knew to be Claire’s

Not that he even wanted to but he felt the girl deserved a proper explanation.

After leaving the restaurant and wandering the Chicago streets he found himself back where his life seemed to begin and end. Pouring what was left of him into helping the rest of the crew start the gut on the restaurant. He wasn’t proud that he let his emotions regarding your situation get the best of him, leading to an unnecessary and petty argument with Sydney. But he knew the two of them would work their issues out.

He couldn’t be sure that the same could be said for the two of you though.

The journal he had started a year ago sat open in his lap, the Polaroid he used to keep his place gently rested on his bedside table, the small lamp illuminated the two of you staring at each other eyes full of love as you wore matching smiles.

A teardrop landed on the ink-stained pages of his journal. The words he wanted to say to you easily poured out of him when he sat down to write to you. The journal began as a way for him to express what he felt for you, but as the months went on and the writing became a part of his routine they turned into letters to you he’d never have the guts to send.

His hand came up to swipe across his face before reaching for the pristine Polaroid and neatly tucking it between the designated pages. The journal was then safely placed in his bedside drawer. He knew he needed to give you space, he just wasn’t sure if there had ever been a future written in the stars for the two of you.

Picking up his phone he opened it to your newly saved contact, the need to hear your voice spilling more tears from his eyes. Your voice rang through his head as he thought about your words from earlier, Carmy couldn’t lie, he knew you loved him and had known for a while but hearing you say it aloud had finally awoken that part in him that would allow himself the pleasure of loving you back.

He couldn’t do it, couldn’t get himself to call you. A sob ripped through him as he locked his phone and set it down, the hope he had earlier to work things out with you was now gone, and he had no one left to blame but himself.

Carmy laid back in bed, eyes blankly staring at the ceiling, one arm bent at a right angle to support his head. He had really and truly ruined whatever relationship was left between you two.

Carmy’s hand dipped into the collar of his tank top, gripping the small pendant he found dangling from his chain after returning home from his shift the night you made your departure from his New York apartment.

His fingers had gotten used to tracing over the initial of your first name that he proudly wore around his neck. The closest thing he even had to you now.

Carmy’s eyes watered as he raised the initial pendant to his lips, a lingering kiss pressed into it, and a whispered “I love you,” filtered through the quiet of his room.

tag list: @saturnheart @r0s3mm @wheredidmycrowngo @hawkins-2000 @elliesbabygirl @allbark-no-bite @anakinswh0re3005 @thecraziestcrayon @fruitcupsworld @nishinoyahhh @lilylovelyxo @ridingthehotmessexpress @noas-ark @jadeittic @hellokittyever @luvr-bunnyy @sxgees @kravitzwhore @chanluuvr @readingwiththereids @chims-kookies @ladygrey03 @ferida-kahlo @wanderlustnightwanderer @how2besalty @armydrcamers @jointherebellion215 @blkbxrbie-esther @ajordan2020 @head-slut-in-charge @magnet-girl @thebookwormlife @sevikasblackgf @writers-hes @senassn @bunnysthngs @gabbycoady13 @randomhoex @mattmurdocksstarlight @shinebright2000 @royalestrellas @jam1esl0v4 @globetrotter28 @dankfarrick29 @flowersgirl02 @beingalive1 @fairytale07 @smoooore @ghost-timelord @xxxstormyninixxx

so i’ve reached the limit of people i can mention in a single post, i apologize if you asked to be tagged and were left off it was not intentional. i’m gonna figure something out to try and fix this…sorry : (

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #the bear fic #the bear x reader #carmen berzatto angst #carmen berzatto x you #carmy the bear #all i ever knew only you ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊#[aiekoy] updates

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lyssak09 · 2 months

Note

when will you post yandere rick grimes 💕

Now 😂. I hope you and everyone else enjoy this! If you enjoy this please like, repost, and or follow me! Happy reading everyone 💙

Rick has always been attached to you, more so than he is to others, and it got worse when Lori died.

Ever since Lori died he’s been watching you like a hawk, even when you don’t realize it. Watching you sleep is both comforting and peaceful to him.

It makes his heart swell when he sees you taking care of Judith and Carl. Even if you didn’t like kids at first, Carl and Judith were different, and they needed a maternal figure. Which you happen to become without knowing.

After his mental breakdown, he starts to understand why he is doing certain things for you and why he has these feelings. It's because he loves you, more than anything.

And no, you’re not a rebound. His relationship with Lori wasn’t doing well and he already felt something for you when he first met you. It just wasn’t noticeable yet.

He becomes extremely protective of you, even paranoid. Rick will give you the safest jobs in the prison. Such as helping him with the garden, watching the kids, cleaning up cleared sections of the prison, and so on.

If you get too close to the walker gate he’ll flip. Yelling at you and killing multiple walkers (Who couldn’t even get to you really). Rick might start chaperoning your daily walks or observing from a distance because of the walkers.

You won’t be given scavenging missions. Even if you volunteer for one he’ll say no and have someone else do it. If you ask him why he doesn’t let you anymore he’ll just say “It's safer for you, and without you, Judith and Carl and so many of us would be lost without you.” Manipulative right?

He may go to great lengths to ensure that he is always a part of your life, even if it means manipulating situations or lying to keep you close.

He’s good at manipulation, I mean, it helped out a lot back when he was a sheriff. He’ll manipulate situations that cause you to be close to him or work with him, even though you already spend a lot of time with him, especially because of Judith and Carl.

Rick will also manipulate you, and your feelings. He’ll use fear, kindness, guilt, and so on to keep you with him. Maybe even try to make you dependent on him by manipulating you.

“You don’t understand, you’re the only mother figure Carl and Judith have now. You are too important and special to us, to me, to go risk your life on a scavenging mission, Y/N. Now why don’t you go help Carl with his schoolwork, he’s been asking for you. We can talk about this more later.”

You will not discuss it more later.

Rick will become extremely jealous. To the point, he’ll either subtly isolate you by giving everyone very different jobs from yours, or he’ll even quietly sabotage your relationships with others.

If someone shows even the slightest hint of interest in you he’s coming to mess it up.

“Listen here friend, I’ve noticed you’ve taken a liking towards Y/N. You should know that she’s taken, and wouldn’t go for someone like you in the first place,”

Did I forget to mention that you’re taken? By Rick?

You don’t know it but you’re in a relationship with him, whether you like it or not. Don’t get me wrong, Rick does understand that you two aren’t ‘technically’ together, yet. But that doesn’t mean you won’t be.

You’ll be his wife eventually, you just don’t know it yet.

Rick likes to keep mementos of you and his kids on him and likes to have some to decorate his cell, which makes it more like a home.

Found a pretty flower on your walk with Judith and want him to have it? It’ll be found pressed in one of his favorite books. He’ll borrow Glenn’s camera to take photos of Carl and Judith, making sure to get some with you in a few as well. He’ll make someone take a photo of all four of you, it’s a family portrait in his eyes.

Rick isn’t just overprotective of you because of your safety. But he is also paranoid that someone might take you from him. Anyone who gets too close to you might be seen as a threat, and he’ll have a plan to eliminate them if needed.

As time goes on his love for you grows and grows to a terrifying amount.

He’ll start to get violent if things are going his way, such as you not being affectionate back, you not realizing you’re supposed with him, or you’re being super oblivious. It makes him frustrated and angry, this shouldn’t be that hard for you! You two are meant to be! He’ll break things, take his anger out on walkers, or even yell at people in the group (even if they haven’t done anything).

He won’t ever hurt you, on purpose anyway, he would have to either been pushed to the edge or be going through another mental breakdown for him to hurt you.

Rick will be violent towards others though.

I think Rick could understand what he is doing is technically immoral, but he doesn't care, he’s doing this because he loves you. Or, I think Rick, who has been through so much trauma, is so delusional that he doesn't think he is doing anything wrong. You're his soulmate. Soulmates should be together. No matter what

Either way, he loves you more than life itself. He loves you more than he ever did Lori. He understands that now.

Despite his unhealthy behavior he genuinely believes that he’s doing this for your best interest, only he can keep you safe in this new world.

Rick knows everything about you, from your daily routines to your likes and dislikes.

The group is becoming concerned by his behavior, but they’re also a little too freaked out to mention it yet.

On the outside, it looks like Rick is a strong capable leader. But on the inside a darker unstable side of him lurks.

Rick becomes so dependent on you for his sense of identity and purpose that he can't imagine life without you. He believes that you’re soulmates destined to be together forever, and he'll do anything to ensure that you never part.

Another way Rick keeps you ‘safe’ isolates you is by gaslighting you. He’ll purposely allow you to almost get hurt, which he hates doing but it's to prove you need him, then he’ll save you. Even though you can handle yourself pretty well against walkers he’ll find ways to almost have you get hurt so he can save you and prove that you need him to protect you. Rick will gaslight you to no end. “You say you can handle walkers but every time you and I encounter them you almost get hurt or die. Now that's not handling them. It’s okay that you need help against them. I’ll always be here to protect you Y/N.”

He uses your relationship with Carl and Judith to his advantage. When you’re spending time with them or taking care of them he’ll come and join you or watch with a tiny smile on his face, this is one of the many situations he uses to spend time with you.

Rick is also secretly coaching Judith to call you mama, the thought of leaving him and his kids could never cross your mind if that's how they feel about you.

Carl starts to see you as a mom without Rick’s coaching. You helped take care of him and helped him grieve his mom. You help remind him that he’s still a kid, he gets to act more like one because of you. Carl will make it known to you that without you he’d have to grow up faster again and stop getting to act like his age again. Him telling you this helps Rick, not that Carl knows about it. Again, how could you leave them? Carl shouldn’t have to lose another mother figure, especially one that actually lets him be a kid. And it wouldn’t be fair to Judith for her to lose the woman who’s been caring for her since she was born.

Once you do catch on to Rick’s feelings and intentions and if you try to leave him he’ll remind you of these facts, that Carl and Judith can’t lose you too.

He’s the king of manipulation at this point.

Rick’s obsession with your safety is insane. To the point, he’ll risk his own well-being for you. I mean, that's what husbands are supposed to do, right? If food is running low he’ll give up his share to you and Carl, no matter how much you disagree or fight him on it.

Rick will never let you go or give you up. Even in the face of rejection or betrayal, Rick refuses to let go of you. He’ll become increasingly desperate and unstable, resorting to drastic measures to maintain his grip on you, including threats of violence or self-harm.

He may develop obsessive rituals or routines centered around you, such as constantly checking in on you, always eating with you, watching you sleep, or even hoarding items that remind him of you. These rituals help to reinforce his ‘connection’ to you Y/N.

Rick is extremely touchy, like oh my god. When he’s around you some part of him needs to be touching you. Like when you help him with the garden, he’ll guide your hands when planting or have a hand on the small of your back while he points out where he wants to add to the prison. He ‘accidentally’ brushes against you all the time.

When you’re sitting down and feeding Judith he’ll have a hand on your shoulder, he loves it when he has to squeeze behind you to get past you and he brushes against your backside, totally not because of inappropriate reasons.

He likes to look for things for you and the kids when he’s out scavenging. Giving you things is one of the ways he shows you he loves you, even though may not realize he’s doing it for that. Rick is in search of a wedding ring for you, he’s going to marry you, and you’re destined to be together.

If he’s scavenging with Daryl and they go past a jewelry store he’ll send Daryl ahead and meet him at their original destination. Rick just has to make a quick pitstop.

Once he finally confesses or you notice his behavior, he’ll expect you to finally realize that you’re together and will happily marry him. If you try to say no or gently get him out of the delusions he won’t take it well. Possibly falling into the delusions more, especially if you’re not getting you’re meant to be his and he was meant to be yours. Rick will explain your reactions with more delusions or false logic.

“You just don’t see it yet Y/N, we’re meant to be together. You’ll see it soon.

If push comes to shove he’ll make you his by force. Either clearing a secret part of the prison and preparing it for him, his kids, and his future wife. He’ll lock you in said cell block if needed. If that idea doesn’t work then Rick will find a nice secluded home somewhere for you guys. Hopefully, you’ll be compliant though so you guys won’t have to leave your new home everyone worked so hard on.

Rick rationalizes his behavior with twisted logic, convincing himself that everything he does is for Y/N's own good. He believes that he's protecting you from the dangers of the world and that she needs him to survive.

He’ll go to great lengths for you, including getting rid of anyone or anything in the way. Maybe that's why some of your fellow survivors haven’t come back from scavenging missions Rick sent them on?

Rick loves you more than anything Y/N, remember that.

“I love you with all my heart darlin, don’t ever forget that.” Rick declared with a smile, blood dripping down his face,

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere male #yandere headcanon #yandere the walking dead #yandere twd #the walking dead #twd #rick grimes #yandere rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #yandere rick grimes x reader #miss blue writing #rick grimes x you #yandere rick grimes x you

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gadriezmannsgirl · 5 months

Note

Hi, I've got a request for Gavi where reader tells him that she's pregnant. That's pretty much all I thought of sorry

Also known as Gender Reveal (10)!

Blessing - P.G6

Summary: Two small lines can change the world for you and your husband, Pablo.

You were throwing up once again, it was the five day in a row and the third time today you visited the bathroom to let all the content of your stomach out.

"¡Amor!" You heard your two years husband, Gavi before you felt him burst in into the bathroom pulling your hair up and pat your back softly "Let it out"

"Don-ugh!" You lift your hand but quickly cut yourself off and grabbed the end of the toilet. You waited for a few minutes and after you had let everything out, you sighed and quickly shut the lid and flushed the toilet.

With the help of Pablo, you sat on top of the lid as you wiped your mouth looking down at your lap.

"Amor" Pablo crounched down and you looked at him feeling embarrassed and not wanting to worry him "Hey, hey... Look at me"

"I'm fine" You whispered softly

"Don't lie to me straight to my face, please" You looked away and sighed "You throwing up daily these past days and you throwing up three times today while it's barely even 2pm is worrying me. This is not just a stomach bug anymore"

"Don't worry, please" You whisper

"How could I just not worry? You're my wife, I'm always worried that something may happen to you and the fact you're just dismissing this is worrying me even more"

"I honestly don't feel bad" You look into his brown eyes "I'm just really tired lately and I feel really hungry out of nowhere"

"But then you throw up" You nod wanting to cry

"I don't know what's happening to me" You hid your face into your hands and start breaking bit by bit

"Hey no, don't cry"

You feel Pablo's arms tightening around your frame and soon you are feeling his lips on top of your hand, exactly where your cheek is, you quickly push that hand away to allow him to kiss your skin as your hand mets his cheek lovingly.

"I know you don't like doctors" He starts as you turn to face him as he wipes your tears away "but I think it'll be good if we check what's going on, if its the flu-"

"Baby" You cut him off shakking your head

"-maybe you have a low value, platelets? hemoglobin? what do I know, but we can discard anything. Please" His eyes pleaded you "I just don't like seeing you like this, I want you healthy. Always"

You also didn't like feeling like this and after a few seconds, you nodded.

"Okay" You nod

"Okay?" He asks with a small smile as you nod softly "Okay" You kiss his ear softly

"Can you pass me my toothbrush, please?"

"I will kiss you right now"

"Ew, no" You shook your head

"I will" He leaned in as you leaned back "Y/N"

"No" You laughed

"Gimme a kiss" You shook your head

"I will give you a kiss after I brush my teeth"

"I really don't care about it, you can give a kiss now and a kiss after"

"No!" You laugh and soon he joins leaning in to kkiss your cheek before he removes himself from you and goes to the sink to look for your toothbrush

"Al cabo que ni quería, que te huele la boca horrible" (After all, I didn't even want to, because your mouth smells horrible) His tone let you know he was teasing you

"I just threw up!"

"¡Fua, que horrible!" (how awful!)

"¡Pablo Martín, ven acá que te beso de una!" (come here and I'll kiss you!)

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

"So, you already went to the doctor?" Aurora said as you nod softly drinking from your ice coffee "What did it say?"

"I'm good, everything's good" You say "but I'm still taking some vitamins just in case" She nods

You had gone to the doctor with Pablo, two weeks ago and did every kind of tests, to make sure nothing was out of place or had some kind of virus and stuff. Nothing, absolutely nothing was wrong.

"And the throwing up?"

"It's not often now" You shrug "I think it was some burrito I had" You say not minding it but then you yawned

"You feel tired?" You nod

"I don't know why. I mean, I took a nap before coming here but I guess work has been hetic and I guess I was just catching up on it" You look at her smiling softly when out of nowhere you felt hungry and looked confused "I'm hungry" You said "I want an avocado with chocolate ice cream"

"You what?"

"I'm craving some avocado with chocolate ice cream" You said simply "Do you think they'll sell it here?" You looked around "Maybe with a cracker too"

"Y/N" Aurora said but you didn't heard her, too busy looking for a waitress "Cariño" You looked at her waiting for her to speak

"Can I have some of your ice cream? I'm really hungry and I don't think they will sell that here, the most I'll get are weird looks from everyone" She only handed you her ice cream to see you dig into it

"When was the last time you had your period?" You hum inserting two full spoons of ice cream into your mouth

"I don't know" You shrug softly "I can't remember very well right now... I think it was the 25th?"

"Month?" You stopped eating ice cream and got serious knowing where she was getting into, you look around for your phone "The last time I got my period was two months ago" You looked at Aurora "Aurora..."

"Are you regular?" You nod "We need to do a test"

"But it's impossible, I already did blood tests nothing came out of it"

"Maybe they didn't do a pregnancy test? I don't know but there's a possibility of you being pregnant"

"Are you kidding me?"

"Does it look like I'm kidding you?" You whined starting to eat once again the ice cream "I feel so happy right now"

"What if he doesn't want it?" You asked "I mean... We talked about it but we never started trying for it"

"Pablo's crazy for you, he loves you and he talks about a future with you, he would love to have a baby with you"

"We don't even know if I am pregnant or not"

"And that's why I'm here for. Let's buy a test"

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

"Ok, one minute left" You said sitting on Pablo's side of the bed "Two lines pregnant and one line not pregnant" You say and Aurora nods going over to hug you "I'm so nervous, I don't even think I peed right"

"What?"

"I don't even know what I'm saying"

"Calm down"

"How can I calm down if there's a possibility of having a half Pablo and a half me inside of me right now?" You ask standing up "Is the minute done, now?"

"It has gone barely five seconds" She looks at her phone

"Why time goes fast in some things and slow with ohters? I need this already" You whine as Aurora laughs

"Babygirl, don't worry too much. If it is, it'll be the most loved baby in this world both by its parents and by its whole family. And if it's not it'll be a false alarm"

"A false alarm I kinda want to be true" You said "After you told me about that, I have been thinking and thinking of it and I just- I don't know" You lift your shoulders "I want to be pregnant" You said softly looking at your sister-in-law

"Your time will come, Y/N/N. And if the time's now, it'll be the right one" And as if it was by magic, the timer went off "Are you ready?"

"I'm nervous" You said

"You want me to watch it?" You doubted for a few seconds before shaking your head

"I go" You went inside the bathroom and grabbed one of the three tests. You sighed deeply before looking down at your hand.

Two lines.

Your breath got caught in your throat, you quickly grabbed the other two and the answer was the same.

Two lines.

Pregnant.

You were shaking and feel your heart full, you smiled and teared up before crossing your hands around your yet non-existent belly. "Dear lord. I'm pregnant" You whisper looking down at yourself with a big smile

"Y/N?" You hear Aurora ask and went out "What is it?"

"I think you need to help me get some ideas on how to tell Pablo, he's going to be a dad" Her mouth opened and screams, from both of you were heard.

"I'M GONNA BE AN AUNTIE"

"AND I'M GONNA BE A MOM"

"A sexy one, by the way"

"Oh shut up" You laugh "That explains my sudden mood changes, my weird cravings, the throwing up, everything"

"You're having baby Páez inside of you. If it's a boy like Pablo, he'll suck the energy out of you" You both laugh "I remember mom being drained out after putting an annoying Pablo to sleep"

"Shit. I'm pregnant" You say once again "How do I tell this to him?"

"Right, we gotta find the way to tell my brother"

Three days have passed since you knew that you were pregnant and you couldn't hold back the news anymore and almost messed up the surprise you and Aurora, prepared.

The doorbell rangs and you instantly run towards the door.

"It's mine!" You announce watching how Pablo was already standing up to get it

"Careful, amor!"

"I got it! I'm alright!" You said opening the door to find the package Aurora left for you a few seconds ago on the floor. You picked it up, turning around "AH!" You yell scared, you didn't expected your husband to be behind you "Joder, amor. Me has asustado" (Fuck, baby. You scared me)

"I'm sorry" He smiled softly coming over to side hug you "What's that?"

"I-uhm... A little something I bought"

"Uhm" He said with his lips pressed to your cheek "May I ask what?"

"A little something for you, well us but you'll see soon"

"I'm curious. Let's open it?"

"This is just like the invoice of the purchase, what I bought comes around eight? seven? months" You said a bit unsure

"What did you bought? Something handcrafted? Why it takes so long to arrive?" You smile

"You can say that. It's in the making" You nod

"Now, I'm hella curious" He smiled "You know, you didn't have to gift me anything, amor"

"Well, it's something that just came up, it was unexpected but yeah... it's done already"

"What did you bought? And why is the invoice in that big box? Why did it came earlier and not with the package?"

"You're asking way too many questions, Pabs" You laugh nervous "but this has the answers" You gave him the white box

"You didn't killed anybody, right?"

"Oh dear god, just open that box" You say wanting to eat your nails

"Ok, I will" He said shooting you a smile before he undid the bow and opened the box "What...?"

After learning you were pregnant, you and Aurora went to the hospital and asked for an ultrasound, in there you found out you were one month and three weeks into the pregnancy. You bought small baby socks and a small barcelona jersey with the iconic GAVI 6.

You also did a small note that read "Hola papá. ¡Espero conocerte pronto, te quiero mucho! Att: Baby Páez Y/L/N" (Hi daddy. I look forward to meeting you soon, love you!) along with the pregnancy test you did

"What does this means?" He asked, his eyes lighting up with hope. "Is this...?" You smile to your husband and softly nod

"We're pregnant"

"Joder, Y/N. Thank you so much, mi vida!" He said hugging you tightly "You don't even know how happy I am, right now" You laughed "I'll be a daddy and you will be the most amazing mom, ever. Thank you so much, amor, thank you, thank you" He kissed you several times around your face "Joder, we are pregnant"

"We are" You said smiling

"Thank you for this blessing, mi vida. My little but perfect familia. Los amo a ambos" (I love you both) His hand caressed your flat tummy as you peck his lips smiling

"Y nosotros a ti, guapo" (And we love you, handsome)

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviymarcsbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld @http-isabela

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nolita-fairytale · 11 months

Text

burn your life down | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter six

summary: you go to luca's place for the first time and talk about what you might want to be.

warnings: fluff, eventual smut, eventual angst not use of y/n, conversations about divorce, slow burn, baby, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, very little connection to the world of the bear.

word count: 3.8k

listen to: the playlist is finally ready, though no promises that i won't add to it down the line! you can listen here.

a/n: i have a busy week ahead of me so i wanted to get this chapter out as soon as possible because leaving you guys with a kiss and no resolution is just cruel. that and i just can't get them out of my head. i promise that chapter two of 'don't want to walk alone' is coming. let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist!

part five | masterlist | part seven

Luca doesn’t work nights – not on Saturdays, anyway – his hours are boringly predictable, starting at five AM for his daily pastry prep, while the rest of the kitchen – the ones that work on the line at least, take his dishes all the way to the finish line.

He feels lucky, as he makes his way home from your restaurant, that he doesn’t have to do the late night thing anymore. Most of his colleagues get off of work around two, maybe three AM, before the restaurant closes from Sunday to Tuesday, and he doesn’t miss that schedule one bit.

He’s also feeling pretty lucky because he hadn’t expected his conversation with you to go the way it had. Luca thought he’d come to your restaurant in an attempt to mend things, to reassure you that you could be friends and that the two of you could take a few steps back. Really, he thought that it may be easier that way – perhaps the most realistic expectations for him to have considering it didn’t seem like you were ready.

But then you kissed him.

And he really, really hadn’t expected that.

It’s not that he doubted your feelings for him – he can’t imagine that you’d spend all of this time with him, make such an effort to keep in contact so frequently if you weren’t feeling the same way – but Luca felt like the message was loud and clear the night of the ballet when you’d rejected his ask to keep the night going. He couldn’t hold it against you. You had only been divorced for just under two years, but it didn’t take the sting out of it – not even a little bit. So Luca had come to the restaurant this evening, sure that your answer would be no again: that you weren’t ready, that you just needed to be friends – something he’s willing to, something he wants to be able to give to you.

Luca had agonized over it all yesterday, and most of today, really. He knew that you’d panicked on Thursday, and he was eager to reassure you that you had nothing to worry about when it came to him; he didn’t want you to have anything to worry about it when it came to him. So he pushes the thought to the back of his mind, that one day, maybe a friendship with you won’t be enough, but he figures at best, that it was a problem for a future version of him.

But the kiss changed things – or at least he hopes it does. He knows he can’t force it, but god, does he want you to be ready. As Luca enjoys his walk home from your restaurant – one that’s quickly becoming a well-known neighborhood spot – he heads in the direction of his Norrebro flat, deciding that he’ll just embrace the joy for now; embrace the fact that you kissed him because it’s not like he can predict what happens next.

He replays the moment over and over in his mind: the way that you kissed him when words failed you, the feeling of your lips on his, the way his heart fluttered as he moved in closer towards you so that he could kiss you back.

Before he gets home, he’s got a text from you, confirming that it’s alright that you come over later and he’s quick to reply yes, sending his address along with a ‘just text me when you’re on your way.’ Luca spends a little time tidying up his place in anticipation of your arrival. He makes a quick dinner – something simple, easy, a childhood comfort bowl of aglio e olio – before putting something old and familiar on the telly for background noise.

By the time he’s managed to settle in for the evening, it’s a few hours later, and a ping echoes through his Copenhagen flat, alerting him that he has a message. Luca glances over at his phone to see that it’s a message from you, letting him know that you’re on your way.

His heart skips a beat. Luca takes a breath, before setting his book to the side, and makes his way to the kitchen so that he can put on the kettle.

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

It only takes a few moments after knocking on his door that Luca answers, all smiles and nervous energy as you stand in his doorway, with a similar nervous energy.

“Hi,” he greets you softly.

“Hi,” you smile back at him, unable to keep your heart from melting.

It’s now or never, sister, you think to yourself as words of encouragement.

The soft golden light of his living room lamps bring a warmth to his already welcoming-persona, as you step inside. You’re not sure whether you should kiss him or not, the question hanging over both of your heads in a tenuous way, so instead, you let him pull you into his arms for a long hug.

“I’m glad you came,” he begins, his lips moving against your hair.

“Think I’d chicken out?” you chuckle in response, with your teasing question as you pull away from your hug.

He laughs, locking his front door as he says back, “I… think that’s a trick question.”

“Fair enough,” you concede, because you’re not going to make him answer it anyways.

The kettle he seems to have put on whistles, signaling that it’s ready, as Luca hurries towards his kitchen area in the open-concept space. You take this as a chance to look around his living area before you get to talking.

“So this is your place,” you observe, speaking loudly enough that he can still hear you.

“Uh, yeah,” he calls back to you as he fiddles with the knobs to his gas stove, cutting the heat.

You hear him ask you how the restaurant was, how the night went, and you reply, exchanging small talk as you take in the scene. He’s got one of those places where everything has its place, everything has a home, yet it’s warm. Your eyes glaze over the grey couch that maybe seats three, that sits across from a simple, yet stylish coffee table. His bookshelf is bursting at the seams with cookbooks, copies of classic literature you grew up reading in school, and a photo of him and a woman that you can only assume is his mother.

“Tea?” Luca asks you with a raised eyebrow.

“Please,” you answer as you watch Luca moving around his kitchen.

You take a seat towards the center of his couch, picking up one of his coffee table books so that you can flip through it. You run your fingers over the spine, making a note in your head that he seems to have a thing for trainers, examining Luca’s copy of Nike: Better Is Temporary that’s been thoughtfully placed on his coffee table.

“How do you take it?” he continues, eyeing you carefully as you flip through his coffee table book.

As you look up, your eyes easily find his, and there’s something in the way he looks at you, a coquettish glimmer that matches his crooked smile so well that it hurts, and it makes you glad that you’ve already made up your mind about what you want to happen after tonight.

“Just a little honey,” you reply, watching as he drops a sugar cube in his own mug, adding a splash of milk.

He hums along with the lo-fi hip hop playlist that plays softly in the background as he finishes up with both cups of tea, so comfortable in his own space – so comfortable around you. Holding tightly onto both mugs, Luca makes his way over to you placing your mug down on the coffee table in front of you.

He smirks, glad that you’ve chosen to sit more towards the center of the couch and not at the opposite end, taking this as a good sign. You exchange a few more words back and forth, more of the ‘how are you’ and ‘how was your day’ and ‘what’ve you been up to’s’ as you drink your tea.

Really, you’re just biding your time, dancing around the thing that you came here to talk about as you make small talk instead that seems to die out before it’s really had a chance to get anywhere.

You and Luca settle into a pregnant silence once again, before you open your mouth to speak, mustering up the courage to be the first one to bring it up.

“So,” you start, and all of a sudden you feel like a blushing schoolgirl with a silly crush all over again.

“So,” Luca repeats, raising his mug to his lips before taking a sip.

“You kissed me.”

You giggle, rolling your eyes playfully, as you reach for your mug like it’s there for emotional support.

“I kissed you, yeah,” you echo, unable to hide the way the corners of your lips turn up into a smile in response to your admission. “Did you… like… that I kissed you?”

“Oh, yeah. No, it was great,” Luca rallies, enthusiastic yet somewhat clumsy.

“Yeah, that’s… great,” you reply, less than gracefully as well. “Why is this… so hard?”

“I don’t know, love,” he empathizes, his eyes soft as he embraces the awkwardness with open arms.

The two of you exchange a look – one of ‘what the hell are we doing’ – and a quiet laugh acknowledging that you both feel quite silly. Your heart swells, and the fact that you feel joy instead of panic is a greenlight as you decide that you might as well speed through it before it has a chance to change.

“Luca, I-,” you begin, giving yourself time to get the words you want to say out. “I meant what I said earlier – that I really like you – and I do. It’s just….” You pause, shifting your body so that you’re facing him as you confess:

“I sort of… haven’t really dated anyone… not since the divorce.”

“No one?”

You shake your head.

“I just… I haven’t been ready. Haven’t met anyone that I was really all that interested in either until, well till you,” you explain, hoping that it doesn’t feel like you’ve just raised the stakes with your admission.

“So does that mean… are you telling me… that you are – open to this, I mean?” he asks, hesitantly, because he really doesn’t want to get his hopes up.

“Yes. I-, I want to be. I think… I won’t know if I don’t try, you know?” you answer honestly, desperately wanting to make it clear that your hesitancy has nothing to do with him, as you muster up the courage to declare with conviction:

“And I want to try. With you.”

Before Luca can get a word in, it’s almost as if your words get away from you. It’s funny, really, that earlier you didn’t have the words to express what you wanted to say, and now it seems like you have too many.

“And I would understand if you decided that taking a chance on a ‘maybe’ didn’t work for you because…” you trail off, succumbing to the nervous rambling in your head as the words seem to tumble out of your mouth.

“Because you deserve a sure ‘yes’ and I-, I think I’m still discovering what that looks like for me. I mean, this is uncharted territory. And like… what if I don’t know how to do this? What if I’ve entirely forgotten how to date? What if I’m bad at it?”

Luca sets his now half-full mug down on the coffee table before shifting his body so that he’s now a few inches closer to you.

“Then we’ll both be bad at it… at least for a little bit, until we find our footing, that is…” Luca assures you, placing his hands over yours as he moves one more inch closer to you.

And then he says this next part with so much confidence that you’re halfway to believing it yourself.

“...because, I think this might be something we could be really good at.”

“Yeah?” you ask, your voice caught in your throat as you find yourself completely overwhelmed by this man’s kindness, his patience, and his compassion.

“Yeah,” he nods in response, the corners of his lips turning up into a smile.

You pull your hands away, just for a moment, so that you can return your mug to the coffee table as well, scooting a little closer to him this time.

“So… would this mean… that we’re seeing each other?” you ask, contemplating the weight of the words that make up your question. You watch him carefully, searching his face for a reaction as he nods slowly.

“Yeah, I’d like to start. Seeing you, that is,” he answers, his hands reaching for yours once again.

Taken aback by his answer – and that it could really be this simple – you nod, trying your best to process as you mutter:

“Okay, yeah. I think-. Okay.”

“Are you panicking right now?” he asks you softly, a more playful tone in his voice as you chuckle, closing your eyes for a moment.

“Yeahhhh, a little,” you confess on an exhale, only feeling a little silly.

“It’s okay,” he says, giving your hands a gentle squeeze. As you open your eyes, you immediately catch his, and you swear you could get lost in how deep and blue they are. You’re sitting impossibly close to him, and it’s taking all of your self-restraint not to thoughtlessly dive in – your head and your heart at a standstill, unable to declare a clear winner.

“The thing is…” Luca trails off as his eyes flicker from yours to your lips, leaning in. “I don’t think a lot has to change. We already spend so much of our time together.”

You lean in towards him too, wanting nothing more than for your lips to be on his again.

“And we can take it slow.”

“I’m good with slow,” you whisper, leaning in a little closer.

“I just need you to talk to me, alright? If you start freaking out again,” Luca requests, and you know it’s a perfectly reasonable ask.

“I will,” you agree with a slight nod of your head. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, before continuing with your very important question of:

“But not too slow?”

Luca chuckles, and he can feel your breath against his lips as you speak, glad you’re thinking the exact same thing.

“We’ll go at whatever pace feels right,” he declares, bringing a hand up to cup your face, dangerously close to you now as the two of you engage in a game of chicken.

Luca could care less about who does what first, and he’s more than willing to light the match if that’s what it takes. His hand feels hot against your jaw and you can feel the anticipation between the two of you.

“Can I kiss you now?” he practically growls, under his breath.

“Please,” you reply, before crashing your lips into his.

This kiss is different than before – than earlier today outside of your restaurant. It’s no longer a first. And you no longer have curious onlookers, passersby on the street, or nosy best friends who can’t help eavesdropping to worry about. It only takes you a moment to react as you lean into him, deepening the kiss. Luca’s hands are warm against your body, cupping your face, while the other moves to your back, pressing you closer to him – something you’re more than happy to comply with.

The kiss starts out slow, tentative, as Luca kisses you deeply, more than eager to pick up where you left off earlier, but this time with the confidence of knowing that time is on your side. Luca breathes you in as he sucks on your top lip, before pressing his tongue against the seam of your lips. Your hands slide over his shoulders, snaking one of your hands up and behind the back of his head as you savor the way he tastes like chamomile and mint.

You’re reminded of how fun this is supposed to be – getting to know someone new, making out like horny teenagers, dating – as your tongue tangles with Luca’s, chasing his lips like your life depends on it. It’s as if all of your worries, all of your doom what-ifs disappear for a moment, when you allow yourself to relax and enjoy what’s happening.

You said it earlier: you’ll only know if you try, and Luca – and the way you feel about him – really, really makes you want to try.

You whimper as he pulls away, only to be pleasantly surprised as he begins nipping at your jawline, behind your ear, ghosting his lips across the bare skin of your neck. You feel him smile against your skin as he presses a kiss to the hollow of your throat, earning something between a gasp and a laugh from you. You forget how to breathe for a moment with that way he’s kissing you, but when Luca returns his lips to yours, it’s as if he’s realized that it’d be all too easy to get carried away like a runaway train.

He places a slow, gentle kiss to your lips that takes up a full beat, then moves to the tip of your nose, leaving a gentler, more playful kiss there that earns a giggle from your lips. Finally, he presses the softest kiss against your forehead – one that seems to say:

I care about you.

He’s left you completely and entirely breathless as you begin to blink your eyes open, reluctantly coming back down to Earth as you exhale a:

“Woah.”

“Big woah,” Luca echoes in agreement, as the two of you exchange a laugh again.

“In the name of ‘slow, but not too slow,’ I think this means I should probably go home tonight,” you say reluctantly.

“I figured as much,” Luca replies, respectfully.

“But… I’ll call you. Tomorrow. Maybe… we can have a coffee?” you propose, hopefully.

“I’d really like that,” he agrees.

You get up off the couch, as Luca offers to take your mug to the kitchen. You make sure you have all of your things on your way to his front door, before you stop, turning to him.

“Thank you. For being so… understanding, so patient with me,” you say, because it really does mean a lot to you.

“You make it easy, love. Get home safe,” he replies, kissing you one last time.

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

Like you promised, you call Luca first thing in the morning, unsure if he’s going to be up already. You assume so, considering he’s at work most mornings at 5 AM, but you figure it’s something you’ll learn about each other now that you’re seeing each other.

Holy shit.

You’re dating again.

And this time, as it all hits you, you find yourself more excited than nervous about the idea of dating again. Of course, it’s not like you’ve eradicated every fear, every thought, every what-if you have about starting something new with someone new, but the fact that that someone new seems to be the source of your excitement.

You don’t spend long on the phone – just an exchange of good mornings, of how’d you sleeps, of you’re on my minds – as the two of you make a plan.

A proper, yet casual date.

A coffee date, you suggest, just like you had last night.

Slow, but not too slow.

It seems a little silly, considering you’ve been on a date before, but you remind yourself that in the end that date went horribly awry, and that although you’ve been to coffee with Luca before, this time, it really is a date.

You decide to meet up at a coffee shop in the City Centre, something about pistachio croissants and getting there before they sell out, and before you know it, he’s waiting for you outside of your place, ready to lead the way.

As you approach the cafe that Luca’s gone on and on about all morning, you spot a certain familiar three people sitting at a table outside, enjoying their morning coffees. You watch as Jesper goes on, animatedly explaining, perhaps this week’s spiciest sexcapade to both Mathilde and her husband, on the edge of their seats.

Jesper, though mid-story, is the first to notice you and Luca’s presence, waving an arm to grab your attention as soon as he sees you.

“Hej! Great timing. We were just talking about the two you,” Jesper calls out, as both you and Luca approach the cafe table.

“Well, well. Where are you two coming from?” Mathilde asks, a smug smirk on her face plastered to her face. “Looks like you two figured things out.”

“Mathilde!” you exclaim as her husband lets out a hearty laugh, shaking his head incredulously at his wife.

“My wife is a little bit cheeky – and alotta bit mischievous. You’ll have to excuse her from time to time,” the man says, extending a hand out towards Luca. “I’m Emil.”

“Luca. It’s nice to meet you,” Luca answers, as Mathilde shoots you a ‘you better call and tell me everything later’ look, as the boys exchange pleasantries.

Choosing to ignore her previous statement, you turn your attention to Jesper as you ask: “What’s going on?”

“Oh just having a little morning coffee, catching up on Jesper’s wild, single life… He’s trying to rope me and Emil into something this coming Saturday and I know that Emil’s planning on dragging me there whether I like it or not,” Mathilde jokes, playfully nudging her husband.

“Jesper got put on the list for this club opening next weekend. We were just talking about who might like to join,” Emil explains simply.

“That so?” you ask with a raise of an eyebrow in Mathilde’s direction. It’s a ‘how do I know that we are about to get dragged along with you’ kind of look, and Mathilde simply shrugs in return.

“Jesper’s always getting invited to these kinds of things, so we tag along when we can keep up,” Mathilde explains, this time directing her explanation to the newest addition to the group, Luca.

“Which is rare,” Jesper teases, earning a snort and an eye roll from his twin sister. Jesper turns his attention back to you and Luca with words of encouragement. “No, it’s perfect timing that we were just talking about you and then, here you are! A sign from the gods. You must come – the both of you!”

“I don’t usually work Saturday nights so,” Luca begins, glancing over in your direction to feel you out on Jesper’s request.

“I… could be up for it, yeah,” you answer, hesitantly as you send a small nod in response.

“Great, it’s settled then. I’ll have them put you both on the list,” Jesper smiles an accomplished smile.

You’re not sure what you’re getting into (and you’re sure that you’ll have to catch Luca up on Jesper’s wild adventures later), but right now, you think that maybe, you're entering a chapter of ‘yes.’

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

a/n: are we doing okay?! did we love the makeout!? are we ready for smut?!? yes, yes, and yes?!

#chef luca #will poulter #luca the bear #the bear season 2 #the bear headcanon #luca x reader #the bear hulu #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction #chef luca x reader #pastry chef luca #burn your life down

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