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#love that i live in a city where i can walk to a restaurant for dinner
cinewhore · 3 months
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Sorry for being weird I’m just getting used to being happy and alive
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whiskeyswifty · 9 months
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#this is such a niche gripe i guess idk its why it's in the tags#but i really get so annoyed by how a lot of this fandom acts like they know everything about her especially like where she goes#and what she does in her free time because they think they KNOW about everything but#all you know is what she chooses to show you like specifically paps like...... she calls them. all celebs do. 99.999999% of the time#these days it's how that industry works which i KNOW for a fact but like don't take my word for it if you don't believe me fine#but it's how it is and i can tell you that from professional experience but also like#the amount of friends and people i know who've seen her places all over the city for YEARS now#and there are no pap photos of her in those places nor did anyone know she went to that building/restaurant/bar/event#there are a feeeeeew places in the city which are celeb hotspots and the paps might skulk around there but that's cuz#they are known spots for that and waiters and staff tip them off for profit shares#like i know someone who saw her literally last night at a restaurant#there are no photos of her there and no paps outside#like if you think she doesn't leave the house or go somewhere without you knowing cuz you think she's papped everywhere...#thats just simply not true lol couldn't be FURTHER from true#she goes so many places and does so many things that you just don't know about. it's VERY easy to live a private life in the city#EVEN THIS WEEK she's gone more places than you've seen her getting papped at cuz i know people who've seen her!#i can't tell you the amount of famous people i've come across in these situations and the press and social media were none the wiser#people i've sat next to at a crowded brunch counter or people walking their dog or taking their kid for a bike ride like.... ALL THE TIME#famous people love new york cuz new yorkers don't bother them and they can live in relative obscurity#idk what i'm getting at i guess this weirdness like I AM GONNA SHUT DOWN ANYTHING THAT I DONT HAVE PROOF OF#is so deranged to me because...... you only have ~proof~ of like 10% of her life#so the other 90% of it didn't happen cuz.... you a blogger on the internet don't have photographic evidence of it????#IS THAT NOT THE MOST INSANE THING TO SAY????#idk really weird that people just think they know her and shut down any one who poses something that doesn't fit into their#frankensteined version of her that they made out of a bunch of paparazzi photos and flight trackers and deuxmoi posts taped together#as if THATS somehow MORE sane and a more realized person#idk if i'm making sense i'm annoyed whatever whatEVERRRRR
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infoactionratio7 · 10 months
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call it fate, call it carmen - c. berzatto
summary: after carmy runs into a pretty stranger in a coffee shop that morning, he never thinks he will see her again... until she walks into his restaurant.
pairing: carmen berzatto x fem! teacher! reader
word count: 2,506
note: kinda set during season one when the bear is still the beef. no warnings really, some cursing, that's it! :)
read part two here! and part 3 here!
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sunday morning -
The bells of the little cafe on West Erie St chimed as you glanced up from your book, you were waiting for your name to be called by the friendly barista who had just taken your order. You were new in town, and wanted to explore all the different things Chicago had to offer. A man walked into the shop, inhaling the sweet scent of freshly brewed coffee as he went up to the counter and read an order from his phone,
"Can I get a small iced dirty chai latte and a triple shot iced espresso to go? Please, thank you " His voice was soft, as he ran his hand through his messy curls.
He glanced over to where you were standing, bundled up in a winter coat, scarf, and hat (Chicago winters got cold fast). He gave you a once over, taking note of your book, 'Chicago: A Food Biography'. You seemed to be completely enthralled in the page you were reading, captivated by every word. He was not one to ever go up to a stranger, but he felt that he had to take a chance. The barista gave him his receipt and a small smile, telling him to wait over near the pickup counter.
"You ever been to Chicago before?" You look up, wide eyed, not expecting the man to be speaking to you.
"Oh," you exclaim, flustered. "Once or twice with my family when I was a kid, but not that I can really remember."
He smiles and glances at your book, you realize this was the reason he is asking you. It was a very touristy book to be reading. Especially because the cafe you were currently standing in, was highlighted in the book. You had made a list of all the places you wanted to visit that day before you had to arrive at the elementary school down the street to start your new job. "I love trying all the foods that are in the cities I visit, it's like an obligatory tradition when I move in to find places near my new apartment." You spit put your words, not even thinking that you are telling a random stranger in Chicago that you live near this cafe and just moved in. Blushing and looking down at your feet, you hear your name called from behind the counter, rushing to grab your drink and chocolate croissant before the conversation could get uncomfortable. You put the pastry in your bag and quickly wave at him.
"Have a good day, hope you find some nice restaurants" He waves back as you open the door and walk into the blistering wind that had taken over the streets that cold winter morning.
-
You arrived at your apartment building, it was not the nicest apartment you had ever stayed in but it was not the worst either. You walked up the stairs to your door and unlocked it with the hand that was not holding the coffee you just purchased. Rushing into the apartment, you put all of your things on the kitchen table and just took a breath of the cozy air of the room. As you stood there and took off your winter layers, you could not help but think of the man who had approached you in the cafe, realizing how attractive he was, his tattooed hands running through his hair, and biceps anyone could see just from glancing at his bundled up figure. You took a sip from your coffee, thinking how could he get two iced drinks in the middle of winter was beyond you.
You went into your room to grab some of your papers from the desk you had just built from Ikea the night before. You had to do some lesson plans before you did anything else, you had not even started any for that week. It was sunday and all you could think of was when you were in high school, and using your sundays to finish all the work you had neglected to do the week before.
Deciding to just get your work done you opened the package with the croissant, and took a bite. Tasting the buttery and chocolatey pastry seemed to bring a jolt to your brain and body, motivating you to get started.
-
Carmen could not stop thinking about you, he had wished he had formally introduced himself and told her that he was in fact, the owner of a restaurant that was a block away and it would be great if she wanted to visit and try something to commemorate her moving into the city. But no he just waved and let her go, watching her leave into the bitter cold.
"Jeff, you need to focus, you almost cut your finger off," Tina pulled him out of his thoughts with her concerned tone. "What's going on Carmen, you gotta be more careful than that, take a break if you need one."
"Fuck, sorry Chef, sorry" He put the knife down and put the carrots he had finished cutting into the giardiniera container for service later that night.
"You seem more distracted than usual, I can finish the cutting, just go to the office to cool off." Tina glanced over at him as he nodded, cleaning off his knife and putting it away. Right as he walked away, Richie walked into the kitchen.
"Cousi- Where is he going Tina?" He looked from Carmy to his empty station next to Tina, still chopping vegetables.
"He's distracted or something, just let him be Richie, don't bother the poor kid," She turned around to go into the walk-in, grabbing more fresh veggies to prepare for service later. Richie, as he does, ignores Tina completely, beelining to the office, where Carmy is running his hand down his face and pacing around like a madman.
"Cousin, what's your deal? You look like you're goin' fuckin crazy" He grilled, leaning on the door. Carmy shot him a glare, sitting down in the swivel chair that squeaked every time he actually tried to swivel in it.
" There isn't a fucking problem Richie, leave me alone." Carmy pushed himself into the desk so he could look at some paperwork he had been putting off for the past week. "I gotta finish this paperwork."
Richie raised his eyebrows, looking down at the younger man, he wasn't going to push Carmy any further, because the whole kitchen knew what would happen if the chef got mad before a service.
"Fine cousin, just don't take that shit out on the rest of the kitchen." He walked out of the office dorway as the rest of the kitchen crew started to file in to prepare for dinner service.
Carmy blankly stared at his paperwork, thinking about the interaction at the cafe this morning he just couldn't stop thinking about.
sunday night -
You walked down the stairs to your apartment complex, having finished your lesson plans just in time for dinner. Before you left, you had read of a few classic dinner joints in the neighborhood, one of them was called 'The Beef', known for their italian beef sandwiches and spaghetti with meatballs. After looking at some reviews online, you decided that it was necessary to visit this local staple. The reviews talking about how some days it was as calm as anything in the restaurant, but others the employees were screaming at eachother while getting the orders out.
You approached the building, right next to a big parking lot where many people were just standing around with sandwiches. Someone pushed the door open, smells and noise leaked out of the warm dining room. You could hear the screams from in the kitchen,
"We are down five italian beef, sweet and hot dipped, two ravioli, and one spaghetti meatball, Lets go Chefs" A tall man yelled into the kitchen.
The swinging door to the kitchen opened and a woman with a blue apron and white chef's coat replied "We are only down all those things because YOU never fired them Richie, why the fuck are you not firing the orders?"
"Calm down Chefs, just fire the orders, we can catch up if you both shut up and work, okay?" A voice you had heard before cut between the two arguing, they both got quite and looked at the man who had just exited the kitchen with five sandwiches in his hands. They nodded and went back to their respective tasks, "Okay, thank you chefs. I have 5 italian beef, sweet and hot dipped for Chelsea."
You were looking at all options on the menu and had not noticed the man calling out the order was someone you had met before. Carmy scanned the room, trying to find the woman who had ordered the five sandwiches he was about to drop. His eyes stopped on a familiar figure, the same he had been distracted thinking about all day. He didn't even notice when a woman came up asking for her order, scrambling to put the sandwiches in a to go bag and giving it to the woman.
"Excuse me, you're next sweetheart, What'll you have?" A rough voice pulled you out of your focus on the menu as you stepped up to the register. You looked up at the tall man who was smiling down at you like he had never seen a woman before, when he was pushed aside and a familiar face entered your field if vision.
"Cousin what the fuc-"
A woman's threatening voice came out of the kitchen "Richie I swear to god if you don't shut up, I'm going to stab you again."
He stalked into the kitchen, mumbling something about how unappreciated he was in this restaurant. You brought your focus back to the man standing in front of you, beet red as he watched the taller man walk into the kitchen. He turned back to face you and awkwardly smiled,
"Nice to see you again, what'll you be having today?"
You scanned the menu one more time and decided to have a little fun with the man, "Can you surprise me?, I heard that this restaurant is pretty big with the locals."
He looked at you with a pointed look, "Okay," he softly said your name, "What do you want?" After a long pause he wrote down the order, then looked back up at you with his foggy blue eyes. You were flattered he had remembered your name, did he really care that much about a stranger he had spoken to for less than two minutes earlier that morning? You didn't even know his name, but his warm gaze softened you like butter.
"It's on the house okay, I promise it'll be the best meal you've had in the city since you moved here. Be ready in 10 minutes" You were quick to reply,
"No, I can't let you do that, how muc-" He cut you off,
"This one time, I'll cover it, and if you like it, next time I'll let you pay, deal?" He held out his tattooed hand for you to shake,
"Fine..." You smiled, slipping your hand into his rough palm, he shook your hand firmly, then letting it go, gestured for you to wait at one of the tables near the door. You smiled and walked over to the table sitting down. He walked into the kitchen and you could hear his faint yells through the wall, telling the kitchen your order.
"God damn Cousin, you just took my job for no reason what's your problem?" The tall man, who you remembered was named Richie stalked back out of the kitchen to get to the line that had formed. You realized you hadn't even asked the name of the man who had just offered you a free dinner. Richie stopped in his tracks when he saw you, realizing that this might have been the reason his boss had been distracted all day. Thinking about the pretty girl that he had met, and clearly liked her enough to give her a free dinner. He laughed to himself, taking a mental note to make fun of Carmy after service for getting distracted because of a girl.
The blue eyed chef burst out of the kitchen door with a to go bag, and made his way to the table you were sitting, waiting for the food. He placed the bag in front of you as you looked up to meet his eyes,
"So what are you serving me chef?" You tease, "Well that it a surprise you will just have to wait to find out" He grins as you stand up to meet his height.
"Well thank you..."
"Carmen, Carmen Berzatto"
"Thank you Carmen, I'm sure I will enjoy this, and if I don't, I'm afraid I'll have to come back and try something new." Placing your hand on his shoulder and squeezing lightly as you started walking toward the door. "I'll see you Carmen"
You turn around and start walking out of the door when you hear a yell from Richie, "Cousin has got a little sweetheart don't you"
"RICHIE I swear to God-" The door closed behind you before you could hear what the woman who just barged out of the kitchen had to say to the pompous cashier.
You silently laughed as you walked through the street, it was around the time for sunset and the sky had turned a beautiful blend of orange and purple. You reached your apartment in around ten minutes, getting out of the cold and eager to see what Carmen had packed you for dinner.
Putting the bag of food onto your coffee table, you grabbed a plate from the kitchen and started to unpack the meal. The first thing you pulled out was an italian beef, 'sweet + dipped' written on the side, then you pulled out a small side of fries, and lastly there was a plastic container of spaghetti and meatballs, with a piece of chocolate cake. You unpacked everything in front of you and the scent of the food engulfed you. It was a heavenly smell, so you dug in.
When you finished all you could possibly eat you noticed something at the bottom of the bag. A small piece of lined paper, that looked like it was ripped out of a notebook, it said your name on one side in messy handwriting and on the other it had a phone number and more of the messy chicken scratch,
hope you like dinner, would love to show you around the city sometime. call me x
carmy
You immediately opened your phone, putting his number into your contacts, then opening your message app to send him a text.
to: carmen
loved dinner, too bad i won't have to come back and get something else. i guess you'll have to show me around to see if any spots can top this one. let me know when you're free ♡
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hotpinkstars · 4 months
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AHHH LOVED THE AL HAITHAM FIC SMM but if you dont mind what was going through al haithams head when he realized she left??
-> the house will never be the same again pt. 2
synopsis -> after being incredibly disrespected by your husband, alhaitham, you moved to liyue. what is going through his mind when you leave?
a/n -> AHHH i'm so happy you liked it!!! and i don't mind making a pt. 2 at all sorry this has been sitting here for a while but i hope you enjoy! here is part 1.
warnings -> all hurt no comfort, reader never turns up lol
w/c -> 1.2k
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it’s been about a week now, and you’re already settled into liyue. you’ve caught the eye of a bunch of passersby in the city- a sumeru vision wielder living in liyue harbor? 
thankfully, you had the traveler and a kind woman from the qixing named ganyu able to assist you with questions about the city. the first day you got there, she noticed your vision, and asked you all about it. it soon led to the two of you hitting off the start of a friendship in a nice restaurant- with ganyu telling you all of the things to do in liyue, the jobs that can be taken, and how magical the lantern rite especially is. you mentioned to her that you had a passion for the arts, and she immediately helped you look for a side job to make a little bit of mora to pay rent in your nice abode in the middle of the harbor.
“so, were your travels from sumeru alright? i’ve heard trudging through desert is not a very enjoyable experience..” ganyu questioned, a slight grin to be found on her face. “though, i have heard that the city down there is very nice. i would love to visit for myself one day, but with work and adeptal business it makes my days a little tight.”
you nod before replying. “the city is beautiful, especially at night. theres a gorgeous stage down there too, where a young woman named nilou always performs on special events. it’s always been the most majestic part of the city, or at least in my opinion.” 
ganyu lets out a noise of fascination, before giggling a little. “i would love to watch her dance. nilou is a familiar name, some people here strictly go to sumeru just to see her. i bet she’s as wonderful as everyone makes her out to be.” ganyu sighs. “i wonder if she travels? we have nice performing places here, too.”
you nod. “occasionally. it mostly has to be a big event for her to arrive, though.” you take another bite of your food. “but i bet if i asked her, she’d come out for at least a few days.”
that made ganyu smile once more, before she asked another question. “well, this may be an odd question, but do you have any romantic relationships?” 
“well, that's the reason i decided to move here,” now it is your turn to sigh, making ganyu have a confused look dancing across her face. “my partner and i got into an argument. he wouldn’t stop overworking himself, and i simply just wanted him to come to bed. but he’s so stubborn, and he took his work stress out on me. there was… certainly a lot of name calling.”
ganyus look of confusion immediately switches to an apologetic one. “ah, you made the right choice. that’s no way to treat your spouse.” 
you nod in agreement, before finishing your dish and pushing it slightly out in front of you. 
“well, i’m going to head back to my apartment now. this was very nice, we should do it again sometime!” you smile before standing and putting some money on the table. “here, this should be half. have a good night, ganyu!”
“goodnight to you too, y/n! i’ll see you soon.” 
now, back on alhaithams end..
he hasn’t been home in about a week and a half, due to his work causing his presence nearly 24/7. that pretty much means he hasn’t realized you’ve left yet. 
as he walks home, he doesn’t know how he would approach you. does he pretend the issue doesn’t exist? does he keep ignoring you? does he apologize? he thought his mind would split open.
as he walks through the door, he notices that the house is a little… emptier, from when the two of you lived together. he walked through the whole place, looking into the bathrooms to see your products gone. looking at the laundry room, met with no clothes that are yours hanging from the clothesline. and now, when he went to your bedroom…
your pillowcases have been stripped from the bed, and your pillow thrown into the closet. there were only a stack of two pillows, right in the middle of the bed. now his heart was thumping, and really hard. he looked through the dressers. the left side was barren, leaving only his side full. the thing that brought tears to the mans eyes was seeing your wedding ring on your side of the table. 
so you really left him. he stands there, shocked, unknowing of what to do. does he try to find you, or does he let you go? oh, how he regrets ever talking to you the way he did. if he just took your advice, you would be in bed, waiting for his arrival. likely bringing him into a hug, shaking all his worries and stress away as you whispered questions along about how his day was. 
the next few days felt like someone kept coming over to his desk and stabbing his back with blades like his. he felt so regretful, doing everything he can to stay composed while at the same time trying to find where you’ve gone. dehya won’t give him anything besides “somewhere close to sumeru that’s not sumeru.” that could mean you’ve gone to fontaine, liyue, or monstadt. how would he ever find you?
he’d ask the gaurds, and they all told him you went in the direction of the chasm. getting somewhere, but not close enough. he could walk all that way and come up empty handed. he doesn’t have an exact pinpoint on you yet. 
he’d ask nilou. she’d just shrug and say something along the lines of “i heard what happened, but i do not know fully where they went.” 
he walked the paths of the city, lost deep in thought. everyone thought it was a little out of character for someone such as him to look and feel as lost as he is. as much as people wondered what happened, they kept their mouths shut.
and for the people who noticed your absence, too, they’d ask different people who would likely have knowledge. but alhaitham didn’t know where to go now. he could walk the whole chasm and still not have you turn up. he could check every apartment complex in liyue harbor, and knock on every door on the outskirts. he could sail the seas to inazuma, and walk every separate island to see who may be housing you, or what commission you may have been taken in by. he could fall down the very waterfall that leads an entrance to the enchanting location called enkanomiya. he could go to fontaine, dive under the waters, walk every rocky mountain, and even visit the fortress of meropide. he could fight every monster near the city of monstadt, looking upon every rooftop for signs of your art, blown through the city of wind. but he still wouldn’t find you.
now what he doesn’t know is that you’re in liyue harbor, and nobody frets to tell him that anytime soon. for now, they’re just going to let him suffer, the same way he let you.
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the girl next door 22
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.
This lewk but silverfox
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A man shows up shortly after. You think it’s the judge but you vaguely recognise his thick gray hair and his stance. Steve greets him happily and introduces him as Bucky; the other witness. 
He nods at you and your mom as he crosses his arms and subtly checks his watch. He’s not dressed as nicely as Steve; he has no jacket but he wears a button-up and slacks. You wonder if he’s just as surprised by the whole affair or even if he has the context to be. 
Your mom and Steve barely know each other. It’s only been a few weeks since he moved in. Isn’t marriage supposed to be a big thing? Something you do after at least a few years. Well, how do you know? All you know of normal life, you learned from TV and everyone knows that’s not realistic. 
The judge arrives and introduces herself as the Honorable Valentina de Fontaine. Your vision is blurry as she begins by reading from a piece of paper. Is this how it really is? No romance, no fairy tale, just a stuffy city hall room and a judge with a script. You don’t know why it’s bothering you so much. 
It’s just too fast. It’s too surreal. It just doesn’t feel real. 
You can barely process the words as Steve and your mom stand before the judge. Their vows are lost to the void of your confusion. That man, Bucky, stands near, intently listening but showing no emotion. He senses you looking at him and gazes back at you. You quickly turn away and self-consciously pull at your dress. 
You don’t move until your asked to sign. You take the pen but have a hard time getting a grip on it. How strange it all is. You manage to sign your name on the paper to verify your presence and step back. The declaration of man and wife echoes in your ears. 
What does it all mean? Steve is... your stepfather now? Is he still going to live next door? Is he going to move in? Do you have to go? Where? What about your mom? She’s still sick. None of it makes sense. 
The judge congratulates the happy couple. The do seem happy. You bend your arms over your chest and clutch the sides of your neck. You chew your lip awkwardly as your mom and Steve beam at each other triumphantly. 
“Uh, right,” Steve snaps out of it, “so, we’re going to do lunch. How about it, Buck, you wanna join?” 
Bucky looks dully at his friend then glances at you. You notice how your mom clings to Steve’s hand. All of this is so fast and so much. 
“Sure, why not, I can drive this one,” Bucky says, “so you two love birds get at least the drive to yourself.” 
“You don’t gotta do that,” Steve smiles. 
“Don’t mind,” Bucky insists, “you two must be so excited.” 
“Honey,” your mother keeps her voice low, “it’s alright, they can meet us at the restaurant, right? I mean, we’ll need to talk about a few things on the way.” 
“Sure, uh, sure. There’s a reservation so you can just give my name,” Steve’s voice evens out, “see ya there. 
“Mm, sure. Starving anyway,” Bucky mutters and turns to you, “coming?” 
You look at the man then your mom Steve. Your mother gives you a look that says get out of here. Best that you don’t ruin the happiest day of her life. It truly does seem to be. You don’t think you’ve ever seen her anything close to elated but she’s just smiling and latched onto her husband. 
Her husband. 
You turn and follow the other man from the room. He slows his gait until you’re walking beside him. He’s quiet as you tread through the maze that is City Hall. As you get to the parking lot, he points you without a word. You go to a car and hear the locks slide back. 
You wait until he gets in the driver’s side before you open the passenger door. As you buckle in, he checks the mirror and turns the engine. He sighs. 
“Must be strange,” he comments as he reverses out, “new dad and everything, huh?” 
You’re quiet but make yourself eke out a noise, “mhmm.” 
“Sorry, I probably don’t make it any better,” he steers casually, “why don’t you save us both the trouble and find something to listen to?” 
He turns on the stereo with a button on the wheel and you flinch. You hesitantly lean forward and search the stations. You don’t want to make him listen to anything too out of his preference and you’re a bit too embarrassed to search for what you really like. You settle on a station with old songs you recognise vaguely. 
“Talking Heads, nice,” he comments. It takes you a moment to realises that’s the band’s name. 
You nod and look out the window. He doesn’t press further. He doesn’t try like Steve to manufacture the conversation. He just lets you be. You can appreciate that. You watch the buildings pass by and flutter your fingers against your legs. 
As the car pulls in behind a restaurant, you feel another lurch in your stomach. You’re both hungry and terrified. It’s a nice place and you’ve never been anywhere nicer than an Applebee’s. That was when you were eight and your grandmother took you out for your birthday. 
You let Bucky take the lead. He gets out, you get out. He crosses the lot, you cross the lot. Right there at his side. He’s a stranger, you don’t know him, but his presence is almost reassuring. He has a confidence you could never fathom. Besides, what choice do you have? 
You step inside and he steps ahead to meet the hostess. He gives Steve’s name and you trail after him as you’re led further inside. You see other diners dressed nicely for their meals. You look down at yourself and the faded polka dot dress. 
You sit and wait. You’re on edge, waiting for Bucky to say something, anything. To ask you a question. So what about your mom? You take care of her? She’s sick, huh? 
He lets you be and orders a coffee, asking if you want something at the same time. You just ask for water and sink into the chair. Your eyes wander over the floor and up another table. Another woman stares at you. You try to ignore her as the server nears and puts down the coffee and water, a small divet between his brows. 
As you sip, you hear your mom’s crow above the din. You glance over as she walks ahead of Steve. The settle in and order drinks as Bucky greets them. It all still feels so disjointed, like a dream. As if the little pieces of reality have been stuck together haphazardly. 
"There's the happy couple,” Bucky muses dryly. 
“Says the eternal bachelor,” Steve retorts, “sound jealous, huh?” 
“I’m quite happy, actually. Got my own space, my own bed, my own everything.” 
“Sure,” Steve chuckles, “sounds amazing.” 
“Any plans for the honeymoon?” Bucky asks though he sounds disinterested. 
“Probably will have to wait a while. For now, we’re just gonna sort things out,” Steve turns and looks at you, “you’re quiet, kiddo, what’s going on?” 
You shake your head and sit back as the server returns with a coffee for your mom and a grapefruit juice for Steve. You wait for him to leave but he doesn’t. You stare at the table and he clears his throat. You look up at the man as the table stills. 
“Excuse me, miss, um,” he keeps his voice low, “this is a nice establishment so I’m going to have to ask you to cover up.” 
You bite your lip and your eyes go wide, “what? I don’t...” 
“You can put a napkin over your chest,” he suggests. 
Steve lets out a heavy breath and your mother mutters under hear breath. 
“I...” you look down and try to pull your dress up, “I’m sorry.” 
“Here, take my jacket,” Steve stands strips off his jacket, offering it up. “Thanks, you can go.” 
You accept his coat with a quavery thank you and he sits after the terse dismissal. With your head down and your body on fire, you pull the jacket around your shoulders, hiding in it. It smells like his cologne. Your eyes tinge and you roll them back to keep from crying. 
“Wow, that was rude,” Steve says. 
“Well, she shouldn’t be wearing something so inappropriate,” your mother snorts. 
Bucky shifts awkwardly and you turn your face away, humiliated. 
“Her dress is just fine. That guy has no right to be commenting on her body. We’re paying customers,” Steve snarls, “makes me wanna just go.” 
“It’s okay,” you sniffle, “really.” 
“It’s not okay,” Steve insists. 
‘”Oh, honey, don’t be so dramatic,” you mother snickers, “if she didn’t want people to comment, she’d cover up.” 
Steve is quiet as Bucky sips from his coffee. He clinks it down and you wince. 
“I think you both should let her speak for herself,” he says bluntly, “and if she doesn’t wanna talk about it, move on.” 
You blink and slowly peek over at the man. He doesn’t glance back or even acknowledge you. He just sits back and swirls his mug. 
“I always hated places like this,” he scoffs. 
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devoutekuna · 16 days
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Family vacations
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Includes- Toji, Sukuna, Nanami, Gojo, Geto
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Sukuna-
He didn't care for vacations, he didn't care for much stuff, even if it concerned you and his daughter. Taking you to a private island was the maximum he was doing, sat near the pool as watched over you two Sat on the other side of the pool as you dipped her legs in the water, splashing about as a stimulation method for her. Giggles filling up the gaping silence. "Would've been better if uraume was here", talking about the fact that his favourite cook wasn't there with him, meaning he couldn't eat humans for the next 2 weeks, you knew that when he got back to Japan he would be going on a rampage, ending an entire village for the freshest of meat.
"Let them rest, you make them cook for you everyday" trying to defend his cook as you carried on playing with your daughter. Your daughter grabbing into the top of your shirt as she pulled down on it, clearly wanting more of your attention. "Yeah yeah, you humans don't know anything about proper food"
Nanami-
He knows you'd have a hard time communicating with the locals in Malaysia so he opts out of that trip and takes you to the countryside, his second favourite vacation destination. Living in a rural area was a dream of his, getting to sit down at the bay window reading a book as his daughter played beside him, he was waiting for you to wake up so that he could take his daughter on a walk around the field.
"Mama!" Slapping your sleeping form awake, head still resting on the pillow as you gained awareness of your situation. "Me and papa are going on a walk!" Noticing her attire, pink floral dress to match your favourite flowers, her hair typed up into two pigtails. Nodding in response as you wished her a good time.
Your husband and daughter walked along the path after around 25 minutes, coming back with freshly picked strawberries and tulips, his daughter sleeping in his arms as he carried the basket in his other, head resting along his clothed shoulder with her hand gripping along his collar.
Geto-
He doesn't mind where you 3 go, but he would prefer somewhere hot, walking along the beach in the evening, sun setting along the beach as nobody was in sight, daughter trailing behind him, always reaching towards the water every few seconds since she saw something pretty. "Daddy I want that!" Pointing to the red seashell which washed up. Stopping in his tracks as he held your hand, waiting for you to stop walking. "Can I grab it?" She had asked that since last time she touched something on the beach it was a jellyfish, fortunately it didn't sting her.
Nodding his head as he held your hand tighter, squatting down as your thumb rubbed against his knuckles. Slowly sundress touching his shoulder slightly. "Look mama and papa!" Holding the shell in her small palms, tracing the details with her chubby fingers. "It's very pretty sweetheart!" Rubbing her hair gently, not enough to mess it up though.
Gojo-
He loves hot countries, getting an excuse to flex his body off. Sat in a bathing suit at the side of the bed as you picked out outfits for your 2 year old daughter, "Hurry up Y/N!" Laying down on the bed, stretching his slender arms out, hitting the edge of the bed. Giving him a glare back as your daughter sat on the armchair beside you, kicking her legs as she picked out an outfit. "Shut up Satoru, you come help our daughter then" defending your actions as you showed her a few more options, you didn't even know why she had so many bathing suits if you were just there for a week. "I'm good" a smile being heard in his voice as he checked up on you two.
"That one mummy!" Pointing at the light purple bathing suit. "Took your time" throwing a pillow at him as he gave you attitude.
Toji-
He didn't care much about where you went, as long as you 3 were together. Wandering around the city, you had dragged him out of the hotel room at 8pm, since you wanted to visit a local restaurant, scowl on his face as he held his daughter in his arms, hands gripping onto his hair as she looked around. "Are we almost there daddy?" The small girl eyeing all the food stands you walked past, peeking her face into his eyesight as she tugged further. "Ask ya' mother" pointing towards you and how quick you were compared to him, you clearly were eager for the restaurant.
Sat down at the booth as he placed down his daughter. "Was it really worth coming out at 8pm for this?" He wasn't in the mood for your stuff, especially since you had told him not to eat today since the food here was so good, he hadn't even seen the menu yet he was already annoyed, daughter laying on his torso as she tried not to fall asleep despite not doing any walking if her own.
"I told you it would be good" watching your husband stuff his face as your daughter tried your food, dipping her spoon into it. Smiling at him as he gave you an acknowledgement glare.
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1968 [Chapter 5: Artemis, Goddess Of The Hunt]
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Series Summary: Aemond is embroiled in a fierce battle to secure the Democratic Party nomination and defeat his archnemesis, Richard Nixon, in the presidential election. You are his wife of two years and wholeheartedly indoctrinated into the Targaryen political dynasty. But you have an archnemesis of your own: Aemond’s chronically delinquent brother Aegon.
Series Warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, character deaths, New Jersey, age-gap relationships, drinking, smoking, drugs, pregnancy and childbirth, kids with weird Greek names, historical topics including war and discrimination, math.
Word Count: 6.6k
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“So you smoked grass in college,” Aegon says, pondering you with glazed eyes as he slurps his cherry-flavored Mr. Misty. You’re in Biloxi, Mississippi where Aemond is making speeches and meeting with locals to commemorate the first summer of the beaches being desegregated after a decade of peaceful protests and violent white supremacist backlash. Route 90 runs right along the sand dunes. If you walked out of this Dairy Queen, you could look south and see the Gulf of Mexico, placid dark ripples gleaming with moonshine. “And swore, and had a boyfriend, and presumably, what, did shots? Skipped class on occasion?”
“Yeah,” you admit, smiling sheepishly, remembering. You stretch out your fingers. “I chewed gum, I talked during mass. And I loved black nail polish. The nuns would beat my knuckles with rulers, I always had bruises. I wore these flowing skirts down to my ankles and knee-high boots. My hair was a mess, long and blowing around everywhere. My friends and I would do each other’s makeup, silver glitter and purple shadow, pencil on a ridiculous amount of eyeliner and then smudge it out. If you saw a photo you wouldn’t recognize me.”
Aegon takes a drag on his Lucky Strike cigarette, weightless smoke and the tired yellowish haze of florescent lights. Buffalo Springfield’s For What It’s Worth is playing from the Zenith radio on the counter by the cash register. “I’d recognize you.”
“I used to skip this one class all the time. The professor was a demon. I could do the math, but not the way he wanted me to. Right solution, wrong steps, I don’t know. I learned it differently in high school, and I couldn’t figure out the formula he wanted me to use. So he’d mark everything a zero even if my answer was correct. I couldn’t stand that bastard. Then the nuns kept catching me sunbathing on the quad when I was supposed to be in Matrices and Vector Spaces. I racked up so many demerits they were going to revoke my weekend pass, and then I wouldn’t be able to go into the city with my friends. So I stole the demerit book and burned it up on the stove in my dorm. Almost set the whole building on fire.”
Aegon is laughing. “You did not. Not you, not perfect ever-obedient Miss America!”
“I did. I really did.” You sip your own Mr. Misty, lemon-lime. Across the restaurant, Criston and Fosco are eating banana splits—dripping chocolate syrup and melted ice cream all over their table—and passionately debating who is going to end up in the World Series; Criston favors the Cardinals and the Orioles, Fosco says the Red Sox and the Cubs. The rest of the Targaryen family is back at the hotel watching news coverage of the Republican National Convention, something you can only stomach so much of, Otto’s cynical commentary, Aemond’s remaining eye fixed fiercely on the screen as he nips at an Old Fashioned. “I was wild back then.”
“And you gave it all up to be Aemond’s first lady.”
You think back to where it started: palm trees, salt water, alligators in drainage ditches. “My father grew up in a shack outside of Tallahassee. No electricity, no running water, he dropped out of school in eighth grade to help take care of his siblings when his mom died. They moved south to live with their aunt in Tampa, and my father wound up in Tarpon Springs working as a sea sponge diver.”
Aegon’s eyebrows rise, like he thinks you’re teasing him. “Sea sponges…?”
“I’m serious! It paid better than picking oranges or sweeping up in a factory. It’s dangerous. You have to wear this heavy rubber suit and walk around on the ocean floor, sometimes 50 feet or more below the surface.”
“What do people do with sea sponges?”
“Oh right, you would be unfamiliar. You’re supposed to clean yourself with them, like a loofah. Soap? Water? Ringing any bells?”
He chuckles and rolls his eyes. “You’re a very mean person. Aren’t you supposed to be setting an example for the merciful wives and daughters of this great nation?”
“Painters and potters buy sponges too. And some women use them as contraceptives. You can soak them in lemon juice and then shove them up there and it kills sperm.”
“I suddenly have great appreciation for the sea sponge industry. God bless the sea sponges.”
“So my father spent a few years diving, and he fell in love with a girl who worked at one of the shops he sold sponges to. That was my mother. They got married when he had absolutely nothing, and by their fifth anniversary he had his own fleet of boats, a gift shop, and a processing and shipping facility, all of which they owned jointly. They just opened the Spongeorama Sponge Factory this past April, a cute little tourist trap. But my point is that they were partners from the start. My father listens to my mother, and she works alongside him, and it was never like what I’ve seen from my friends’ parents: dad at the office 80 hours a week, mom at home strung out on Valium, just these…deeply separate, cold planets locked in orbit but never touching each other. I knew I didn’t want that. I wanted a husband who was building something I could be a part of. I wanted a man who respected me.”
Aegon watches you as he lights a fresh cigarette, not saying what you imagine he wants to: And how is that working out? He puffs on his Lucky Strike a few times and then offers it to you. You aren’t supposed to smoke, not even tobacco—it’s not ladylike, it’s masculine, it’s subversive—but you take it and hold it between your index and middle fingers, inhaling an ashy bitterness that blood learns to crave. The bracelets on your wrist jangle, thin silver chains that match the diamonds in your ears. Your dress is mint green, your hair in your signature Brigitte Bardot-inspired updo. Aegon is wearing a black t-shirt with The Who stamped across the front. When you pass the cigarette back to him, Aegon asks: “What music did you listen to? The Stones, The Animals?”
“Yeah. And Hendrix, The Kinks, Aretha Franklin…”
“Phil Ochs?”
“I love him. He’s got a song about Mississippi, you know.”
“Oh, I’m aware. It’s one of my favorites.”
“And I’m currently getting a little obsessed with Loretta Lynn. She’s so angry!”
“She’s sanctimonious, that’s what she is. Always bitching about men.”
“Six kids and an alcoholic husband will do that to someone.”
Aegon winces, and then you realize what you’ve said. Loretta Lynn sounds a lot like Mimi. He finishes his Mr. Misty and then fidgets restlessly with his white cardboard cup, spinning it around by the straw. You feel bad, though you shouldn’t. You wouldn’t have a month ago.
“Aegon,” you say gently, and he reluctantly looks up at you, sunburned cheeks, blonde hair shagging over his eyes. “Why do you ignore your children? They’re interesting, they’re fun. Violeta invited me to help her make cakes with her Easy-Bake Oven last week. And Cosmo…he’s so clever. But it’s like he doesn’t know who you are. He might actually think Fosco’s his dad.”
Aegon takes one last drag off his cigarette and discards the end of it in his Mr. Misty cup. Now he’s fiddling with it again, avoiding your gaze. “I don’t have much to offer them.”
“I think you do.”
“No you don’t.”
“I do,” you insist. “You can be kind of nice sometimes.”
He frowns, staring out the window. You know he can’t see anything but darkness and streetlights. “I should have been the one to go to Vietnam. If somebody had to get shot at so Aemond could be president, I was the right choice. No one would miss me. No one would mourn me. Daeron didn’t deserve that. But I was too old, so Otto and my father got him to enlist. Now he’s in the jungle and my mother has nightmares about Western Union telegrams. If I was the son over there, I think she’d sleep easier.”
I’m glad you’re still here, you think. Instead you say: “Your children need you.”
“No they don’t. Between me and Mimi, they’re better off as orphans. Helaena and Fosco can be their parents. Maybe they’ll have a fighting chance.”
The glass door opens, and a man walks into the Dairy Queen with his two sons scampering behind him, all with sandy flip flops and carrying fishing rods. The dad is at least six feet tall and brawny, and wearing a Wallace For President baseball cap. You and Aegon both notice it, then share an amused, disparaging glance. You mouth: Imbecile bigot. The man continues to the cash register and orders two chocolate shakes and a root beer float. At their own table, Criston is mopping up melted ice cream with napkins and telling Fosco to stop being such a pig.
“Me?!” Fosco says. “You are the pig, that spot there is your ice cream, do not blame your failings on poor Fosco. I have already let you drag me to this terrible state and never once complained about the fried food or the mosquitos. And that thing out there is not a real beach. The water is still and brown, brown!”
“For once in your life, pretend you have a work ethic and help me clean up the table.”
“You are being very anti-immigrant right now, do you know that?”
Aegon begins singing, ostensibly to himself. “Here’s to the state of Mississippi, for underneath her borders, the devil draws no lines.”
“Aegon, no,” you whisper, petrified. You know this song. You know where he’s going.
He’s beaming as he continues: “If you drag her muddy rivers, nameless bodies you will find.”
Now the man in the Wallace hat is looking at Aegon. His sons are happily gulping down their chocolate shakes. Criston and Fosco, still bickering, haven’t noticed yet.
“Oh, the fat trees of the forest have hid a thousand crimes.”
“Aegon, don’t,” you plead quietly. “He’ll murder you.”
“The calendar is lyin’ when it reads the present time.”
“Hey,” calls the man in the Wallace For President hat. “You got a problem, boy?”
Aegon drums his palms on the tabletop as he sings, loudly now: “Oh, here’s to the land you’ve torn out the heart of, Mississippi find yourself another country to be part of!”
In seconds, the man has crossed the room, grabbed Aegon by the collar of his t-shirt, yanked him out of his chair and struck him across the face: closed fist, lethal intent, the sick wet sound of bones on flesh. Aegon’s nose gushes, his lip splits open, but he isn’t flinching away, he isn’t afraid. He’s yowling like a rabid animal and clawing, kicking, swinging at the giant who’s ensnared him. You are screaming as you leap to your feet, your chair falling over and clattering on the floor behind you. The man’s sons are hooting joyously. “Git him, Paw!” one of them shouts.
“Criston?!” you shriek, but he and Fosco are already here, tugging at the man’s massive arms and beating on his back, trying to untangle him from Aegon.
“Stop!” Criston roars. “You don’t want to hurt him! He’s a Targaryen!”
“A Targaryen, huh?” the man says as he steps away, wiping the blood from his knuckles on his tattered white t-shirt, stained with fish guts. “All the better. I wish that bullet they put in Aemond woulda been just another inch to the left. Directly through the aorta.”
Aegon lunges at the man again, hissing, fists swinging. Fosco yanks him back.
“Are you gonna call someone or not?!” Criston snaps at the girl behind the cash register, but she only gives him a steely glare in return. This is Wallace country. There’s a reason why it took four years after the Civil Rights Act of 1964 to finally desegregate the beaches.
“We should go,” you tell Criston softly.
“Yes, we will leave now,” Fosco says, hauling Aegon towards the front door. Then, to the cashier: “Thank you for the ice cream, but it was not very good. If you are ever in Italy, try the gelato. You will learn so much.”
“I can’t wait ‘til November,” the man gloats, ominous, threatening. His sons are standing tall and proud beside him. “When Aemond loses, you can all cart your asses back to Europe. We don’t want you here. America ain’t for people like you.”
“It literally is,” you say, unable to stop yourself. “It’s on the Statue of Liberty.”
“Yeah, where do you think your ancestors came from?!” Aegon yells at the man. “Are you a Seminole, pal? I didn’t think so—!” Fosco and Criston lug him through the doorway before more punches can be thrown.
Outside—under stars and streetlights and a full moon—Aegon burst out laughing. This is when he feels alive; this is when the blood in his veins turns to wave and riptides. You didn’t think to grab napkins from the table, so you wipe the blood off his face with your bare hand, assessing the damage. He’ll be fine; swollen and sore, but fine.
“You’re insane, you know that?” you say. “You could have been killed.”
Aegon pats your cheek twice and grins, blood on his teeth. “The world would keep spinning, little Io.” Then he starts walking back towards the White House Hotel.
~~~~~~~~~~
When the four of you arrive at your suite, Aemond, Otto, Ludwika, and Alicent are still gathered around the television. The nannies have taken the children to bed. Helaena is reading The Bell Jar in an armchair in the corner of the room. Mimi is passed out on the couch, several empty glasses on the coffee table. ABC is showing a clip they recorded earlier today of Ludwika travelling with Aemond’s retinue after he made an impassioned speech condemning the lack of recognition of the evils of slavery at Beauvoir, the historic home of former Confederate president Jefferson Davis. The reporter is asking Ludwika what she thinks makes Aemond a better presidential candidate than Eugene McCarthy, as McCarthy shares many of the same policy positions and has an additional 15 years of political experience.
“This McCarthy is not a real man,” Ludwika responds, her face stony and mistrustful. “He reminds me of the communists back in my country. Did you know he met with Che Guevara in New York City a few years ago? Why would he do such a thing?”
Now, Otto turns to her in this hotel room. “I love you.”
Ludwika takes a sip of her martini. “I want another Gucci bag.”
“Yes, yes. Tomorrow, my dear.”
“What happened to you?” Aemond asks his brother, half-exasperated and half-concerned. Criston has fetched a washcloth from the bathroom for Aegon to hold against his bleeding lip and nose. Aemond is still wearing his blue suit from a long day of campaigning, but he’s taken out his eye and put on his eyepatch. His gaze flicks from Aegon’s face to the blood still coating your left hand. On the couch, Mimi’s bare foot twitches but she doesn’t wake up.
“There was a Wallace supporter at the Dairy Queen,” you say. “Aegon felt inspired to defending you.”
Aemond chuckles. “Did you win?” he asks Aegon.
“I would have if the guy wasn’t two of me.”
On the television screen, Richard Nixon is accepting his party’s nomination for president at the Republican National Convention in Miami, Florida.
“He’s a buffoon,” Otto sneers. “So awkward and undignified. Look at him sweating! Look at those ridiculous jowls! And he comes from nothing. His family is trash.”
“Americans love a rags to riches story,” you say. And then, somewhat randomly: “He loves his wife. He proposed to Pat on their very first date, and she said no. So he drove her to dates with other men for years until she finally reconsidered. He said it was love at first sight. He’s never had a mistress. And jowls or no jowls, his family adores him.”
Aegon turns to you, still clutching the washcloth against his face. “Really?”
You nod. “That’s the sort of thing the women talk about.”
There’s a knock at the door. You all look at each other, confounded; no one has ordered room service, no one is expecting any visitors, and the nannies have keys in the event of an emergency. Fosco is closest to the door, so he opens it. A man in uniform is standing there with a golden Western Union telegram in his hands. Alicent screams and collapses. Criston bolts to her.
“It’s okay,” you say. “He’s not dead. Whatever happened, Daeron’s not dead.”
Otto crinkles his brow at you. “How do you know?”
“Because if he was killed, there would be a priest here too.” They always send a priest when the boy is dead. Aegon glances at you, eyes wet and fearful.
“Ma’am,” the soldier—a major you see now, spotting the golden oak leaves—says to Alicent as he removes his cap. “I regret to inform you that your son Daeron was missing in action for several weeks, and we’ve just received confirmation that he’s being held as a prisoner of war in Hỏa Lò Prison.”
“He’s in the Hanoi Hilton?!” Otto exclaims. “Oh, fuck those people and their swamp, how did Kennedy ever think we had something to gain from getting tangled up in that mess?”
“But he’s alive?” Aemond says. “He’s unharmed?”
“Yes sir,” the captain replies. “It is our understanding that he is in good condition. The North Vietnamese are aware that he is a very valuable prisoner, like Admiral McCain’s son John. He’ll be used in negotiations. He is of far more use to them alive than dead.”
“So we can get Daeron back,” Aegon says. “I mean, we have to be able to, right? Aemond’s running for president, he’ll probably win in November, we have millions of dollars, we can spring one man out of some third-world jail, right?”
The captain continues: “Tomorrow when your family returns to New Jersey, the Joint Chiefs of Staff will be there to discuss next steps with you. I’m afraid I’m only authorized to give you the news as it was relayed to me.” He entrusts the telegram to Otto, who rapidly opens it and stares down at the mechanical typewriter words.
“I have to pray,” Alicent says suddenly. “Helaena, will you pray with me? There’s a Greek church down the road. Holy Trinity, I think it’s called.”
Obediently, Helaena joins her mother and follows her to the doorway. Criston leaves with them. Otto gives his new wife a harsh, meaningful stare. Ludwika, an ardent yet covert atheist, sighs irritably. “Wait. I want to pray too,” she says, and vanishes with them into the hall.
As the captain departs, Mimi sits up on the couch, blinking, groggy. “What? What happened?”
“Go with Alicent,” Otto tells her. “She’s headed downstairs.”
“What? Why…?”
“Just go!” he barks.
Mimi staggers to her feet and hobbles out of the hotel room, her sundress—patterned with forget-me-nots—billowing around her. The only people left are Otto, Aemond, Fosco, Aegon, and you. The fact that you are the sole woman permitted to remain here feels intentional.
After a moment, Otto speaks. “You know, John McCain has famously refused to be released from the Hanoi Hilton until all the men imprisoned before him have been freed. He doesn’t want special treatment. And that’s a very noble thing to do, don’t you think? It has endeared him and the McCains to the public.”
Aemond and Otto are looking at each other, communicating in a silent language not of letters or accents but colors: red ambition, green hunger, grey impassionate morality. Fosco is observing them uneasily. Aemond says at last: “Daeron wants to help this family.”
“You’re not going to try to get him out.” Aegon realizes.
Aemond turns to him, businesslike, vague distant sympathy. “It’s only until November.”
“No, you know people!” Aegon explodes. “You pick up the phone, you call in every favor, you get him out of there now! You have no idea if he has another three months, you don’t know what kind of shape he’s in! They could be dislocating his arms or chopping off his fingers right now, they could be starving him, they could be beating him, you can’t just leave him there!”
“It’s not your decision. It could have been, had you accepted your role as the eldest son. But you didn’t. So it’s my job to handle these things. You don’t get to hate me for making choices you were too cowardly too take responsibility for.”
“But Daeron could die,” Aegon says, his voice going brittle.
“Any of us could die. We’re in a very dangerous line of work. Greatness killed Lincoln, Garfield, McKinley, Huey Long, Medgar Evers, John F. Kennedy, Malcolm X, Vernon Dahmer, Martin Luther King Jr., does that mean we should all give up the fight? Of course not. The work isn’t finished. We have to keep going.”
“Will you stop pretending this is about America?! This is about you wanting to be president, and everything you’ve ever done has been in pursuit of that trophy, and you keep shoving new people into the line of fire and it’s not right!”
“Aegon,” Otto says calmly. “It’s unlikely we’d be able to get him out before the election anyway. Negotiations take time. But if Aemond wins in November, he’ll be in a very advantageous position. The North Vietnamese aren’t stupid. They wouldn’t kill the brother of a U.S. president. They don’t want their vile little corner of the world flattened by nukes.”
“Still, it feels so wrong to leave a brother in peril,” Fosco says. “It is unnatural. Of course Aegon will be upset. We could at least see what a deal to get Daeron released would entail, maybe his arrival home would be a good headline—”
“And who the fuck asked you?” Otto demands, and Fosco goes quiet.
“Okay, then tell Mom,” Aegon says to Aemond. “Tell her you’re going to pretend Daeron made some self-sacrificial vow not to come home until all the other POWs can too. Tell her you’re going to let him get tortured for a few months before you take this seriously.”
Aemond replies cooly: “Why would you want to upset her? She can’t change it. You’ll only make her suffering worse.”
“What do you think?” Otto asks you, and you know that he isn’t seeking counsel. He’s summoning you like a dog to perform a trick, like an actor to recite a line. He’s waiting for you to say that it’s a smart strategy, because it is. He’s waiting for you to bend to Aemond’s will as your station requires you to, as moons are bound to their planets.
“I think it’s wrong,” you murmur; and Aemond is thunderstruck by your treason.
Without another word, you walk into the bathroom, turn on the sink, and gaze down at Aegon’s blood on your palm. For some reason, it’s very difficult to bring yourself to wash it away.
~~~~~~~~~~
It’s mid-August now, the world painted in goldenrod yellow and sky blue. The Democratic National Convention is in two weeks. You and Aemond are posing on the beach at Asteria, surrounded by an adoring gaggle of journalists who are snapping photographs and jotting down quotes on their notepads. You’re sitting demurely on a sand dune, you’re building sandcastles with the children you borrowed from Aegon and Helaena, you’re flying kites, you’re gazing confidently into the sunlit horizon where a glorious new age is surely dawning.
“Mr. Targaryen, what is it that makes your partnership so successful?” a journalist asks as flashbulbs pulse like lightning. “What do you think is the most crucial characteristic to have in a wife?”
Aemond doesn’t need to consider this before he answers. He always has his compliment picked out. “Loyalty,” your husband says. “Not just to me or to the Targaryen family, but to our shared cause. This year has been indescribably difficult for me and my wife. I announced my candidacy, we embarked on a strenuous national campaign that we’re currently only halfway through, I barely survived a brutal assassination attempt in May, in July we lost our first child to hyaline membrane disease after he was born six weeks prematurely, and at the beginning of this month we learned that my youngest brother Daeron was taken by the North Vietnamese as a prisoner of war. To find the strength not just to get out of bed in the morning, not just to be there for me and this family in our personal lives, but to tirelessly traverse the country with me inspiring Americans to believe in a better future…it’s absolutely remarkable. I’m in awe of her. And when she is the first lady of the United States, she will continue to amaze us all with her unwavering faith and dedication.”
There are whistles and cheers and strobing flashbulbs. You smile—elegant, soft, practiced—as Aemond rests a hand firmly on your waist. You lean into him, feeling out-of-place, bewildered that you’ve ever slept with him, full of dull panic that soon you’ll have to again.
“How about you, Mrs. Targaryen?” another reporter asks. “Same question, essentially. What is the trait that you most admire in your husband?”
And in the cascading clicks of photographs being captured, your mind goes entirely blank. You can think of so many other people—Aegon, Ari, Alicent, Daeron, Fosco, Cosmo—but not Aemond. It’s like you’ve blocked him out somehow, like he’s a sketch you erased. But you can’t hesitate. You can’t let the uncertainty read on your face. You begin speaking without knowing where you’re going, something that is rare for you. “Aemond is the most tenacious person I’ve ever met. When he has a goal in mind, nothing can stop him.” You pause, and there are a few awkward chuckles from the journalists. You swiftly recover. “He never stops learning. He always knows the right thing to do or say. And what he wants more than anything is to serve the American people. Aemond won’t disappoint you. He’s not capable of it. He will do whatever it takes to make this country more prosperous, more peaceful, and more free.”
There are applause and gracious thank yous, but Aemond gives you a look—just for a second, just long enough that you can catch it—that warns you to get it together. Fifteen minutes later, he and the flock of reporters are headed to one of the guest houses to conduct a long-form interview. This will be the bulk of the article; you will appear in one or two photos, you will supply a few quotes. The rest of the story is Aemond. You are an accessory, like a belt or a bracelet. He’s the person who picks you out of a drawer each morning and wears you until you go out of fashion.
Released from your obligations, you return to the main house and disappear into your upstairs bathroom. You are there for fifteen minutes and emerge rattled, routed. You pace aimlessly around your bedroom for a while, then try again; still no luck. You go back outside and stare blankly at the ocean, wondering what you’re going to do. Down on the beach, Fosco is teaching the kids how to yo-yo. Ludwika is sunbathing in a bikini.
“What’s wrong with you?”
You whirl to see Aegon, popping a Valium into his mouth and washing it down with a splash of straight rum from a coffee mug. “Huh? Nothing. I’m great.”
“No, something’s wrong. You look lost. You look like me.”
You gaze out over the ocean again, chewing your lower lip.
Aegon snickers, fascinated, sensing a scandal. “What did you do?”
Your eyes drift to him. “You can’t make fun of me.”
“Okay. I won’t.”
There is a long, heavy lull before you answer. When you speak, it’s all in a rush, like you can’t unburden yourself of the words fast enough. “I put a tampon in and I can’t get it out.”
Aegon immediately breaks his promise and cackles. “You did what?!” Then he tries to be serious. “Wait. Sorry. Uh, really?”
You’re on the verge of tears. “I’ve been bleeding since I had the baby, and I hate using tampons, I almost never do, but Aemond wanted me to wear this dress for the photoshoot and it’s super gauzy and from certain angles I felt like I could see the pad bulge when I checked in the mirror, so I put a tampon in for the first time in probably a year. I’m not even supposed to be using them for another few weeks because my uterus isn’t healed all the way or whatever. And now I can’t get it out and it’s been in there for like six hours and I’m scared I’m going to get an infection and die in the most pointless, humiliating way imaginable.”
“Okay, calm down, calm down,” Aegon says. “There’s no string?”
“No, I’ve checked multiple times. It must be a defective one and they forgot to put a string in it at the factory and I didn’t notice, or the string somehow got tucked under it, I don’t know, but I can’t get it out, it’s like…the angle isn’t right. I can just barely feel it with my fingertips, but I can’t grab it. I’m going to have to go to the hospital to get it taken out, but I’m scared word will spread and journalists will show up to get photos when I leave and then everyone will be asking me why I was at the emergency room to begin with and I’m going to have to make up something and…and…” You can’t talk anymore. There are other reasons why you don’t want to go to the hospital. You haven’t stepped foot in one since Ari died; the thought makes you feel like you are looking down to see blood on your thighs all over again, like you’ll never have enough air in your lungs.
“Did you bleed through it? Because that should help it slide out easier.”
“I don’t know,” you moan miserably. “I mean, I guess I did, because there was blood when I checked a few minutes ago. I had to stuff my underwear with toilet paper.”
“Why didn’t you just tell Aemond you couldn’t wear this dress?”
You give him an impatient glance. “I’m tired of having the same conversation.” When do you think you’ll be done bleeding? When do you think it’ll be time to start trying again?
Aegon sighs. “Do you want me to get it out for you?”
“Please stop. I’m really panicking here.”
“I’m not joking.”
You stare at him. “You can’t be serious.”
“I have fished many objects out of many orifices, you cannot shock me. I am unshockable.”
“I’d rather walk down to the sand right now and strangle myself with Fosco’s yo-yo.”
“Okay. So who are you gonna ask to drive you to the hospital?”
You hesitate.
“I’d offer to do it,” Aegon says, grinning, holding up his mug. “But I’m in no condition to drive.”
“But you are in the proper condition to extract a rogue tampon, huh?”
“Two minutes tops. That’s a guarantee. My personal best is fifteen seconds. And that was for a lost condom, much trickier to locate than a tampon.”
Perhaps paradoxically, the more you consider his offer, the more tempting it seems. No complicated trip and cover story? Over in just a few minutes? “If you ever tell anyone about this, I will never forgive you. I will hate you forever.”
Aegon taunts: “I thought you already hated me.”
You aren’t sure what you feel for him, but it’s certainly not hate. Not anymore. “Where would we do it?”
“In my office. And by that I mean my basement.”
“Your filthy, disease-ridden basement? On your shag carpet full of crabs?”
“You’re in luck,” he jokes. “My crab exterminator service just came by yesterday.”
You exhale in a low, despairing groan.
“Hey, would you rather do it on the dining room table? I’m game. Your choice.”
You watch the seagulls swooping in the afternoon air, the banners of sailboats on the glittering water. “Okay. The basement.”
You walk with Aegon to the house and—after ensuring that no one is around to notice—sneak with him down the creaking basement steps, the door locked behind you. Aegon is darting around; he sets a small trashcan by the carpet and tosses you two towels, then goes to wash his hands in his tiny bathroom, not nearly enough room for someone to stretch out across the linoleum floor.
You’re surveying the scene nervously. “I don’t want to get blood all over your stuff.”
“You’re the cleanest thing that’s ever been on that carpet. Lie down.”
You place one towel on the green shag carpet, then whisk off your panties, discard the bloody knot of toilet paper in the trashcan, and pull the skirt of your dress up around your waist so it’s out of the way. Then you sit down and drape the second towel over your thighs so you’re hidden from him, like you’re about to be examined by a doctor. Your heart is thumping, but you don’t exactly feel like you want to stop. It’s more exhilarating than fear, you think; it is forbidden, it is shameful, it is a microscopic betrayal of Aemond that he’ll never know about.
Aegon moseys out of the bathroom, flicking drops of water from his hands. He wears one of his usual counterculture uniforms: a frayed green army jacket with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, khaki shorts, tan moccasins. He kicks them off before he kneels on the shag carpet. He checks the clock on the wall. “2:07. I promised two minutes max. Let’s see how I do. Ready?”
You rest the back of your head on your linked hands, raise your knees, take a deep and unsteady breath. “Ready.”
But he can see that you’re shaking. “Hey,” Aegon says kindly, pressing his hand down on the towel so you’re covered. “Do you want me to go to the hospital with you? I’ll try to distract people. I’ll pretend I’m having a seizure or something.”
“No, I’m okay,” you insist. “I just want it out. I want this over with.”
“Got it.” And then he begins. He stares at the wall to his left, not looking at you, navigating by feel. You feel the pressure of two fingers, a stretching that is not entirely unpleasant. He’s warm and careful, strangely unobtrusive. Still, you suck in a breath and shift on the carpet. “Shh, shh, shh,” Aegon whispers, skimming his other hand up and down the inside of your thigh, and shiver like you’ve never felt before rolls backwards up the length of your spine. “Relax. You alright?”
“Fine. Totally fine.”
“Oh yeah, it’s definitely in there,” Aegon says. His brow is creased with comprehension. “No string…you’re right, it must either be tangled up somehow or it never had one to begin with. Maybe you accidentally inserted it upside down.”
“Now you insult my intelligence. As if I’m not embarrassed enough.”
“I should have put on a record to set the mood. What gets you going, Marvin Gaye? Elvis?”
“The seductive voice of Richard Milhous Nixon. Maybe you can get him on the phone.”
Aegon laughs hysterically. His fingertips push the tampon against your cervix and you yelp. “Sorry, sorry, my mistake,” Aegon says. There are beads of sweat on his forehead, on his temples; now his eyes are squeezed shut. “I’m gonna try to wiggle it out…”
As he works, there are sensations you can’t quite explain: a very slow-building indistinct desire, a loosening, a readying, a drop in your belly when you think about the fact that he’s the one touching you. Then he happens to press in just the right spot and there is a sudden pang of real pleasure—craving, aching, a deep red flare of previously unfathomable temptation—and you instinctively reach for him. You hand meets his forearm, and for the first time since he started Aegon looks at your face, alarmed, afraid that he’s hurt you again. But once your eyes meet you’re both trapped there, and you can’t pretend you’re not, his fingers still inside you, his pulse racing, a rivulet of sweat snaking down the side of his face, his eyes an opaque murky blue like water you’re desperate to claw your way into. You know what you want to tell him, but the words are impossible. Don’t stop. Come closer.
Aegon clears his throat, forces himself to look away, and at last dislodges the tampon. It appears dark and bloody in his grasp. “No string,” he confirms, holding it up and turning it so you can see. “Factory reject.”
“Just like you.”
He glances at the clock. “2:09. I delivered precisely what was promised.” He chucks the tampon into the trashcan and then grins as he helps pull you upright with his clean hand. “So do you like to cuddle afterwards, or…?”
You’re giggling, covering your flushed face. “Shut up.”
“Personally, I enjoy being ridden into the ground and then called a good boy.”
“Go away.” You nod to where he disposed of the tampon and say before stopping to think: “You’re not going to keep that under your ashtray too?”
Aegon freezes and blinks at you. He smiles slowly, cautiously. “No, I think that would be a little unorthodox, even for me.” He pitches you a clean washcloth from the bathroom closet. “That should get you upstairs.”
“Thanks.” You shove it between your legs and rise to your feet, smoothing the skirt of your dress. “I owe you something. I’m not sure what, but I’ll figure it out.”
“Hey,” Aegon says, and waits for you to turn to him. “Maybe I’m not that bad.”
“Maybe,” you agree thoughtfully.
Just before you hurry upstairs, you steal a glimpse of Aegon in the bathroom, the door kicked only half-closed. He has turned on the water, but he’s not using it yet. Aegon is staring down at the blood on his hand, half-dried scarlet impermanent ink.
~~~~~~~~~~
Hi, it’s me again. I’m in solitary confinement. There’s a guy in the cell next to mine; we talk to each other with a modified version of Morse code. Tap tap tap on the wall, he taps back, etcetera etcetera, you get the idea. You’re not going to believe this, but he says his name is John McCain. Well, actually, he told me his name is Jobm McCbin, but I think that’s because I translated the taps wrong. I might be in the Hanoi Hilton, but at least they have me in the VIP section! Hahaha.
Every few hours the guards show up to do a very impressive magic trick: they wave their batons like wands, I turn black and blue. Sometimes one of my teeth even disappears. Isn’t that something? Houdini would love it. There’s a rat that I’m making friends with. I give her nibbles of my stale bread, she gives me someone to talk to. She’s good company. I’ve named her Tessarion.
Allow me to make something absolutely fucking clear.
I would very much like to be rescued.
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moonydustx · 2 months
Note
Hii, i was wondering if you would like to write something about zoro being jealous? Just that haha :) btw i love your writing!
Hi Hi Hi! First, thank you for the request and the compliment, they really make my day. And second, sorry for the delay in writing, I ended up getting stuck with some work deadlines. I loved the idea and although our little greenie has a tough exterior, I think he would be one of those jealous people who refuses to admit it, you know? I think I ended up going on a more protective side with this one, but I hope you like it.
A not so friendly friend
Roronoa Zoro x F!Reader Warnings: Zoro is jealous and a little protective of his girl, he and F!Reader have a kind of secret relationship. A little smut at the end, nothing super explicit. Summary: The Straw Hats arrive on one of the islands where you lived for many years and, to your delight, you meet a long-time friend. Someone in the crew doesn't seem that happy.
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It was almost impossible to keep your euphoria contained within your body. You hadn't set foot on that island in years and finally, you could spend a few days there - even if it was just long enough to record the Log Pose.
"Someone seems anxious to me." Usopp leaned next to you as the Sunny finished docking in the small port.
"Right after I left my home island, I spent a few years here, I believe I can still find some friends."
"I hope they're nice people."
"They sure are!" the two of you quickly turned your attention to Luffy, who was shouting that everything was ready to disembark. The two quickly walked towards the group, this time Franky would be responsible for taking care of the ship.
"We're finally here!" Robin joined the two of you. "From what you told me, there's a big library around here."
"Yes, I'll take you there, we also have great restaurants…" you listed. "Wait, how are we going to split up?"
"Well, from what you told me, it's five days until Log Pose finishes recording and since it seems to be an important island for you, we can do most of the things together." Nami explained and waited for the others to agree. "We've already distributed everyone's money, but today we're going after…"
"Food!" Luffy interrupted her and immediately felt Nami's hand slap him. "But you promised to take me out for that delicious pie." he turned to you.
"Yes, we will. Let's go down first, shall we?" you asked and everyone immediately agreed.
Like many other times, you watched Zoro go down first and almost automatically stretch out his hand for you to support yourself and go down. That gesture didn't go unnoticed by your crewmates, but they knew your personality well enough not to question it.
The group continues calmly to the island's central square. New stores, old schools, even some salespeople were the same and seemed to have recognized you when you waved, your cheeks already hurt from the fixed smile.
"I remember in that bar over there one time…" you commented and heard something in the background.
"Kitten?"
Everyone immediately turned towards the voice that called you as they watched you become a figure as you ran towards the blonde haired boy.
"Leo!" recognizing your former friend immediately, you threw yourself into his arms, allowing the man to lift you off the ground.
"Seems like she's well liked here." Robin chuckled as he watched you practically spin around.
"Is he also a pirate?" Brook analyzed him. "What do you think."
"He seems like a nice guy." Chopper replied smiling
"Kitten?" Zoro practically groaned when he heard the nickname, muttering under his breath.
Even with the man's hands on your waist, squeezing you tightly and your laugh being heard from afar, the way the word had come out of the other guy's mouth made it clear that Zoro wouldn't like his stay there in that city.
"Guys, I need to introduce him to you…" you pulled the man by the hand, bringing him closer to the gang. "This is Leo, he was one of the best friends I had here."
"I went?"
"Still one of the best friends." you laughed, being pulled into a side hug by the man. "Let me introduce my friends, Straw Hats."
You made a point of introducing each friend one by one and again that seemed to bother Zoro. Friend? His little rationality reminded him that you had never made anything clear about the implicit situations between the two of you, but the small bad feeling - which he refused to name - bothered him.
"Come on, I'll take you to our base." the man continued holding hands with you and guided the others.
"Wow, how different you look." "So, how has it been exploring the sea?" "I bet you haven't found anyone as good as me."
Every time the man opened his mouth to praise you, Zoro felt his hand grip tighter against the sword in his sheath. Just one of the three and he would do all the damage that crossed his mind. It was a strange feeling, watching you there with someone else, even if they were talking. Something that stirred any butterfly that might exist in his stomach, that made his eyes turn red, his hands itch to get him out and take that Leo's place. Zoro hated this new feeling that came over him.
"Hey Zoro." your voice woke him up from his trance. "Did you know that Leo is also a swordsman?"
"Interesting." His tone of voice was almost cynical, going unnoticed by you.
"This one is the executor." Leo pointed to the sword in his sheath. "It was supposed to have another name." the man turned suggestively to you.
"I would never let you use my name for that thing." you grumbled, turning back to Zoro. "He's one of the best swordsmen on the island."
"What's your bounty?" the provocation was implicit in the cynical smile that adorned Zoro's lips and this time, it had reached your eyes.
"I don't have one." the man replied calmly, reassuring you.
"Interesting." Zoro repeated and followed in silence.
The others seemed distracted, talking amongst themselves, but your eyes started to turn around a few times, following the green-haired man who started to walk further behind the group.
The afternoon passed quickly on the island. You met up with some other friends who didn't seem to be as close as Leo and when night fell, everyone decided to go to a bar. Everyone except one person.
"Zoro, can we talk?" you asked, moving away from the group that entered the place full of drinks and noise. "What is happening?"
"About what?"
"You barely spoke to me today and now you're refusing to drink?" you stood on your tiptoes, to touch his forehead. "Are you sure you don't want me to call Chopper to make sure you're not sick?"
"Everything is fine." he responded directly, even if he wasn't harsh, his eyes made it clear that something was wrong. "I'm going to go back to Sunny, take advantage of the free time to train."
"Greenie, please." the nickname you used so much to irritate him came out sweeter than he expected from your lips. That made it even harder for him to deny any of your requests.
"It's okay sweetie." his hand touched yours and the memories of watching you all day arm in arm with Leo made him pull away. "Your friends are waiting for you, go."
You watched him leave and even though your body almost involuntarily wanted to follow him, you let Zoro return to the ship.
The remaining four days felt like an eternity to Zoro. Something told him not to move away from you and on the other hand, with every laugh you gave Leo's direction, it was as if he was hurting himself. Why did he have to feel this way? It was just a friendship, wasn't it?
He managed to control himself, many times he managed to control himself. Seeing you have lunch next to him, watching the man carry you from one place to another, the stupid gifts he insisted on giving you and even Leo daring to say he could train you with swords.
Zoro didn't know if there was a god or something, but he thanked the heavens when the last night began to fall. The next morning, you would set sail and he would no longer be forced to share his attention with the idiot who called himself your friend.
The tall bonfire at the edge of the small forest was surrounded by members of the Straw Hats, Leo and some other friends. Drinks and food piled up, as did stories and songs that Brook made a point of singing. Your lips no longer smiled so much, especially when your favorite swordsman met your gaze. He was distant, it had been five days since you had barely been able to speak to him and when you did, he seemed to be as dry as the Alabasta desert. On the other hand, these days you had met a much clingier version of Leo, even uncomfortable and you didn't know how to get away - and apparently the person who could help you with this, didn't seem to be so worried.
"Kitten?" Leo bent down, stopping at your ear level. "Can we talk alone real quick?"
"Why?" you asked, seeing him find the question strange.
"We need more booze!" the man ignored what you said and said it out loud. Pretending he wasn't already talking to you, he nudged you. "Come on, help me, kitten."
Zoro watched the man say something to you and your expression changed, sulking. Leo repeated the gesture again, ignoring that he had already spoken to you. Something possessive took over Zoro - something was wrong and he wouldn't sit still until he found out what it was. Leaving the sake aside, the swordsman stood up and, following a more hidden path than yours, accompanied you to the back of the warehouse - which was the supposed base that Leo had presented a few days ago.
"What is this, Leo?" you stopped in front of him, seeing that they had taken a different direction than you expected.
"I know you're leaving tomorrow, but… Why wouldn't you stay here?" he asked and you immediately shook your head, before your lips could even say it.
"They're my family now. I still adore you, everyone here, but I'm going back to the sea." Your answer seemed to disappoint him. "You know it's always been my dream."
"I know it's selfish of me." the man approached, holding your wrists and, more gently than you expected, he guided you against the wall. "I like you, I always have. If you want, we can go to the sea together, we can form a family, we can…"
"I have a boyfriend." Leo laughed in disbelief, still keeping your arms tied to his, in an even tighter grip. "Leo, you've always been my best friend. Let's not ruin that."
"Friends? You've been missing for years!" he growled, slamming your fists against the wall.
For a few seconds Zoro chose to just watch, hatred was in his eyes and if it weren't for your presence there, Leo would already be just a memory in this world. He knew you weren't a lady in distress and that if you wanted to get out of there, you would get out easily. But there was something written in your eyes, something he saw very few times in battle - fear.
Before the man repeated the gesture, you watched Leo's face get closer and when he was millimeters away, he stopped. His eyes immediately widened and before you understood what the glow was on the side of his neck, you saw a small trickle of blood appear on the man's jugular vein.
"Get your filthy hands off my girlfriend…" Zoro's low tone was even more threatening than if he had been shouting. "Before I take them out of your arms."
"So it's him." Leo muttered, frustration clear in his voice. "I should have suspected."
"I'm sorry." you whispered, without even understanding why you were apologizing.
"I could kill you right now and believe me, I'm still debating whether to do it." Zoro approached, now allowing Leo's entire neck to be covered by the blade. "But I'd hate to ruin the banquet."
"Don't worry about that." Leo threatened to pull his sword, but this time it was you who held his hand.
"Just go back there Leo, let's pretend this didn't happen." you asked and Zoro could now notice how stressed you looked, but at the same time relief appeared on your face.
"She's right." Zoro muttered, moving even closer to the man. "Let's pretend none of this happened and maybe tomorrow you won't wake up just to choke on your blood and die."
"Zoro!" Your voice sounded like a warning to him, who lowered his sword and let the man leave.
For a few seconds, the two of you just watched each other. It was good to be able to have your boyfriend there, finally within walking distance of you.
"How are you feeling?" Zoro took the initiative and held your hands, as if analyzing where the man touched you. When you felt them trembling, he placed a quick kiss between your fingers. "Did he do anything else?"
"No, he just wanted me to stay here." you let your body lean against the cold wall. "Why just now?"
"What do you mean by that?"
"All week I've been trying to reach you, bring you with me, integrate you with my friends here." you huffed, feeling Zoro get even closer to your body.
"I wanted to give you space." he lied and saw you laugh. The sound - which this time was exclusively for him - made Zoro's ego inflate.
"I didn't know you were the jealous type." a moan of relief almost escaped you when you felt his arms wrap around your waist.
"Not jealous, just protective."
"What's your bounty?" you imitated him, laughing again. "Isn't that jealousy?"
"No, kitten." this time, he let a soft laugh escape his lips.
"I am sorry dear." you sank into his chest, letting his hands slide down your back. "I was excited to see everything again and I didn't understand Leo's real intentions."
"And why didn't you defend yourself?" your eyes met his and then Zoro realized his mistake. "I mean, I'll always defend you, but I've seen you get out of worse situations."
"I know." Again you cuddled up, the cold wind sent shivers through your body. "It's just that he was a friend, you know? He saved me many times and I guess I didn't expect to have to fight with him. He was never a threat." The sound of Zoro's heart against your ear was comforting, it was like going back to any of the crows nest nights, where you would stay tangled up for hours. "I found his behavior strange, he was never like that, clingy. But I didn't know who to ask for help."
"I imagine it would be difficult." Zoro murmured, letting his lips touch the top of your head. "Sorry I didn't show up sooner, kitten." he teased you, getting another laugh from you.
"Time to stop this kitten."
"Are you sure, kitten?" he said again, but Zoro's voice came out a few octaves lower, his provocation took a new turn.
His hands that had been caressing your back found themselves on your waist and pressed you against the wall. One of them went up to your chin and held you steady, looking into his eyes, but not for long. Eliciting a moan, Zoro took your lips intensely. No time for little kisses, or any affection that could come first. His lips brought longing and the taste of sake, mixed with the sweetness of your lips.
One of his legs fit between your thighs, the hands that held your waist forced you against the fabric of his pants, moving you like an incentive. While the assault on your lips didn't stop, the heat in your intimacy began to accumulate and form a knot.
"Zoro, please." a strangled moan left your lips, trying hard to contain the noise and not attract the attention of anyone nearby.
"I'm here, love. I got you, just give it to me." his lips that bordered the sensitive spot below your ear took your lips and held all your moans just for him.
Zoro held you there for some time, sweat accumulated on your face as you were still panting. It was a version that didn't appear that often, but you loved it when Zoro lost himself caressing your face, letting his lips slide delicately across your skin.
"Zo, I think we should go back." despite yourself, you moved away from him a little. "By now, Leo should already have contact for everyone."
"Great, at least for one good thing this good-for-nothing will do." upon noticing your lost look, Zoro continued. "I was tired of hiding it."
"Are you sure?" his hands cupped your face, placing a chaste kiss on your lips.
"I love you woman, how can I not be sure of that?" the confession brought a huge smile to your lips.
"I love you more greenie."
Zoro took the lead and with his hand tied in yours, he guided you back to the fire. It was as if nothing had happened, everyone was still talking and drinking. Still feeling your legs weak from the little time you and Zoro had, you sat down and let him go get drinks.
Upon returning to his place, Zoro saw that even without saying anything, Leo was still staring at you, practically on the other side of the fire. With his chest puffed out in ego and relieved to finally have you back in his arms, Zoro sat behind you, so that you were between his legs and when he handed you your drink, he placed a kiss and a light bite on your neck. You were his and from now on that would be very clear.
"It can't be! It's too bad luck all at once!" Sanji's tearful voice attracted the attention of both of you and made you laugh out loud when you saw that the blonde was complaining precisely about the little scene between you two. "What does this mosshead have that I don't?"
"I knew!" Nami screamed and ripped Chopper's hat off. "You can go give me your money, you idiots."
"You guys bet on us?" you asked indignantly and to Nami, Usopp and Franky's joy, apparently they were the two winners.
"This world needs to end…" you laughed even harder when you saw Sanji handing the money to the navigator.
"That's it, now there are two idiots wanting what's mine." Zoro pulled you even closer to his body. "Only mine."
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damiansgoodgirll · 10 months
Note
Jude x reader where he buys reader a birthday gift and reader REALLY doesn’t like him spending money on her and her reaction isn’t the greatest and jude gets all pouty until he sees her wearing it one day.☺️
jude bellingham x reader
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spoiling you
you weren’t used to the fancy lifestyle your boyfriend jude was used too. you were a normal girl, grew up with a normal life, normal friends and your parents had normal jobs. you learnt how to appreciate the small things you had and, the high cost of living nowadays, the value of money and how money weren’t everything but, for some people were everything and more.
you were born in a normal town, not a big city like jude was, you weren’t used to the way people would dress in big cities and how they would show off their expensive cars and outfits. not only you weren’t used to that, you simply didn’t care.
jude learnt how you preferred a box of chocolates instead of a box of jewels, the way your smile shined everytime he got you a new book instead of a new expensive bag, how you preferred home cooked meal instead of spending thousands of money in a fancy restaurant, how you didn’t care about taking the metro or the bus instead of having a private driver.
but, deep down, he wanted to spoil you in more ways and what better occasion or your big birthday?
he had everything in mind. he saw a beautiful chanel bag, classy and elegant just how you were to him and he decided to gift you that. but when he walked into the store he also saw a beautiful chanel bracelet that would go amazing with your outfits and he decided to add that too at the gift.
he thought it wasn’t enough though, he wanted to spoil you with more than a bag and a bracelet. he wanted you to see how it really felt being able to have luxurious things. so he decided to match everything with a diamonds necklace, a very expensive one.
he put everything in a white bag so you wouldn’t suspect anything.
and when the party was over and it was only the two of you, that was when he decided to give you your gift.
“happy birthday love” he smiled as he handed you the bag.
“jude…we talked about this” you said.
“i know i know, but i wanted to give you something anyway” he teased “come on, open it” he said as you were both sitting on the couch.
your expression was between shocked and confused when you saw two chanel boxes and a tiffany one.
“jude? what is this?” you asked him, a little confused.
“your birthday gift! come on, open them, you’re gonna loved them” he was so happy and excited that you couldn’t say no to that face.
he was right - you liked the bag, the bracelet and the necklace, you only thought it was too much for you.
“jude i - i don’t know what to say…this is too much, like way too much, you shouldn’t have…” you said.
not the reaction he wanted but the reaction he was expecting.
“i know…i just wanted to spoil you, you never let me spoil you so i used your birthday as an excuse” he explained, looking at you with his big puppy eyes “if you don’t like them i can always return them…”
“what? jude i love them, all of this…it’s just…i didn’t expect it. you spoil me every single day, with your love and the things you do for me, that’s enough for me because i love you…” you said smiling at him.
“i love you too…” he kissed your lips “and i know you’re gonna find an occasion to wear those” he whispered and you nodded, too lost in his big eyes.
and the occasion came only two days after your birthday party. you were both invited to a business dinner and for the first time in your life, you thought about wearing those expensive things that jude got you for your birthday.
the moment he saw you coming down from the stairs wearing a beautiful long dress, hi heels, the black chanel bag he got you, the bracelet wrapped around your wrist and the necklace falling right into your cleavage, he thought he died and came back. you looked stunning and he fell in love with you more and more.
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miraclewoozi · 10 months
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VERSACE ON THE FLOOR. -l.jh
ooh, i love that dress but you won’t need it anymore –
Or, the time you and your homebody boyfriend* decide to just… not go to your dinner plans.
pairing; lee jihoon x fem reader. content; fluff, suggestive (MINORS DNI). established relationship. warnings; relatively warning free (y'all i didn't even swear???) but just in case -- a couple of dorky jokes, reader wears a dress, makeup and heels, making out, undressing. let me know if i've forgotten anything. w/c; 2.4k (apparently i am in my shorter fic era? party.) note; if there's one thing i'm gonna do, no matter what day of the week it is, it's be disgustingly delusional about jihoon. get ur dentists on speedial, it's a tooth rotter (/j). note 2.0; i've had this one in the drafts for so long i had forgotten all about it! but then VOTF came on shuffle a few days ago (and i started thinking about light a flame woozi at the same time, which nearly fucking killed me), so. here we are. enjoy.<3
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You don’t go out for dates very often. Not anymore, at least.
When you and Jihoon first got together, he took you out all the time. For dinners, to cocktail bars, to the movies, for walks down the beach, picnics by the river. It didn’t matter where you went as long as it put a smile on your face — all he ever wanted to do was make you feel special. No expense has ever been too great for his favourite girl, after all; he’s always loved to spoil you.
Now several years into your relationship, you’re a real pair of homebodies. Sure, he could take you out for a four course dinner at an expensive restaurant in the middle of the city, or reserve a table at a pretentious cocktail bar that plays slightly too loud music that’s always just to the left of either of your tastes. Then again… He could cook a nice meal for you to have at the apartment you share, where you can make your way through a bottle of bubbles without one of you needing to stay sober to drive home or else risk your lives in a sketchy cab. 
It’s something you’ve talked about several times, and on every occasion, it’s quite apparent that you’re both very happy with the way things are. If anything, it makes it all the more special when he tells you he needs you to keep your weekend free because he’s making plans, and he wants to whisk you away.
Like now, for instance. The hotel suite he’s booked is gorgeous and you’re perched on the edge of the plush bedding, bent over double so that you can properly fasten your shoes while he finishes getting ready in the bathroom. Now and again, you hear a grumble or a click of his tongue float through the ajar door; every time, you feel a smile play at your lips as you shake your head. He never changes. (You’re so glad.)
“Jihoon,” you call to him softly. You can practically see how he’ll be standing – facing the mirror, on his tiptoes to lean over the bathroom counter and get as close to his own reflection as he possibly can. Pouting as his fingers drag through his hair to try and fix the strands in place just a tiny bit better. “Don’t you dare come out here looking like Sonic the Hedgehog. You know the more you play with it, the more annoyed you’re going to get.”
A few seconds later, he emerges, an eyebrow raised in challenge, an amused grin tugging his lips out of their habitual frown. 
(And lo and behold — his hair looks absolutely fine.)
But the second he sees you, whatever witty comeback he was obviously very proud of dies on his lips, and you straighten up with only one of your shoes secured to your foot, the other just slipped on over your toes.
“Wow,” he says, in that soft, deep, quiet way that he does when you’ve really taken his breath away. You watch his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallows; you see his brow crinkle and his eyes widen, as if he’s trying to see as much of you as he possibly can. “Is that…?”
“Yeah,” you nod proudly, sitting back and smoothing your hands over the dress you’re wearing. “From our first anniversary.”
As his eyes move over you, taking in everything from the way the straps sit on your shoulders to the way the hem lays across your thigh, your own eyes move over him. The top three buttons of his shirt are still unfastened and his tie hangs either side, tucked beneath his collar but not knotted yet. His slacks have been cleanly pressed, a neat, crisp seam running down the front of both legs. Shoes shined to perfection. Expensive watch strapped around his wrist. 
He might just be the most handsome man in the entire world.
“I remember you saying you really liked it, so… I dug it out, special.” 
“You look incredible,” he says. It’s so gentle, so sincere, that you think your heart is about to burst clean out of your chest. Warmth trickles the length of your spine, and it isn’t exactly helped when you realise – only now as he starts to cross the room to get closer to you – that he hadn’t moved an inch since he surfaced from the bathroom almost a full ninety seconds ago.
He shrinks down so he’s rested on both of his knees in front of you, skilful hands moving to help with the shoe you hadn’t managed to lace up yet. every time his fingertips so much as brush against your skin, the electricity in his gentle touches shoots all the way from the point of contact up to your brain and leaves it fogged, impossible to make any sense through the thick clouds of intimacy and adoration. More-so as he smoothly lifts your leg a little and presses his lips once to the inside of your ankle, even foggier still as he trails kisses up the length of your calf towards your knee. 
“Jihoon,” you laugh breathlessly, laying a hand on his shoulder as you feel his tongue press lightly against your skin. He finally sits back on his heels, running his fingers up and down the backs of your legs; he’s successfully managed to hike your dress up a few inches now, too, and he keeps flitting his gaze between your face and your thighs. “We can’t – we’ll be late.”
“We have ages,” he frowns, shuffling closer and trying to bump your knees apart, but you keep your muscles engaged and he doesn’t pull at them that hard, so they don’t budge.
“We have to get there, too,” you remind him. He throws his head back and sighs dramatically. The neckline of his dress shirt seems to open a little more when he looks back at you, drawing your attention down the length of his neck to his bulging chest, and the muscular forearms that he crosses in front of it.
“And this is why we don’t go out.”
“What, because you’re horny all the damn time?” You tease. 
He gently swats at the top of your thigh before soothing it with another small kiss. 
“Because when you look this good, how am I supposed to want to go and eat a steak instead?” 
He grins up at you from the floor, quite clearly delighted with himself for his little gag. You, however, flop back onto the mattress and cover your face with your hands.
“That was so bad,” you chuckle. You’ve been trying for years to not melt to his very specific sense of humour, but it’s all been completely futile. Your reluctant laughs turn to sweet, breathy giggles by the time he lays both his arms across your legs and rests his chin on top of them. You prop yourself up on one elbow to look at him; he’s staring up at your face like he thinks he’ll never see anything as beautiful as you for the rest of his life. 
“Maybe… We don’t have to go out for dinner,” he suggests. “Maybe we can stay in tonight, too.”
“Horndog.” You tsk. But you’re not disappointed at the idea of staying in, either, regardless of whether your teasing implies otherwise. “I knew you’d say that.”
“No — really,” he swallows. You aren’t sure if you can feel his heart beating a little faster where his chest is pressed completely against your shins, or if you’re just imagining it. But the tips of his ears are going pink too, so you think it’s safe to trust your intuition on this one. “I mean-… we don’t have to go. I could-…”
He bites the inside of his cheek before he looks down, pressing his forehead against his arms and hiding his face completely.
“I could do it here.”
He says these words quietly. Mumbles them, really. You aren’t sure if you were meant to hear, or if he was just talking to himself. But either way, it has to be worth a shot to find out.
“What do you mean, Ji?”
One, two, three seconds pass. And… Nothing. 
“Hey.”
You bounce your thighs a little so he’s forced to look up at you, and you can see something swimming in his eyes. Something brewing. He sits back from you and pushes a hand through his hair; a few strands lose their stick to the rest of the main body and tumble down over his forehead. Exactly in the way he was trying to prevent. 
“I could just do it here.”
He says this louder. Clearer. With much more finality. You sit up properly, then, both your hands clasped together in your lap. 
“Do what here, baby?”
His eyes find yours and you sit there for a few moments, unwrapping each other's minds with nothing more than a look and a matching pair of gentle — but slightly concerned — smiles. 
He moves one hand down and slips it into the back left pocket of his slacks. You think you can feel the world around you start to slow. 
When he shifts a leg from beneath him so he’s on one knee before you and presents you with a glittering diamond ring, it stops altogether. 
“Jihoon,” you breathe. 
He glances between the ring and you, biting his bottom lip before he speaks. 
“I had it-… I had everything planned.” He laughs, looking away from your face as even more rising heat becomes evident on his own. “Down to the second, even. But just like you always do — just like the first time I saw you, and just like every time since… You threw me a curve ball and… Somehow, you’ve changed everything. But you made it so much better. 
“I think I was supposed to find you, y/n,” Jihoon says. “I don't know what’s up there, what’s in charge of when we meet the people we meet and why we fall in love with the people we fall in love with. but I know that they were really looking out for me the day you came into my life.” 
You can feel your eyes starting to sting at the corners and you will the tears away, desperate not to smudge the makeup you spent so long trying to perfect. You know he’d love you either way — mascara tear tracks and splotchy concealer and all — but… 
“I am so in love with you that sometimes, it really hurts. It hurts because I know that no one’s ever going to come close — about anyone in the world — to feeling the way I feel about you. I feel bad for everyone, a bit. Because you’re not-… you're not with them. You’re with me. But I wouldn’t want any of them to be with you, because-... and… and if you’ll have me, I want you to be with me forever.”
You don't know when you started slowly nodding along to his little monologue, but you definitely are. You’re not sure when you started holding your breath either, but that’s two for two. He looks up at you, expectantly, fluttering his eyelashes and stuttering out a long, deep breath. 
“Y/n, will you marry me?”
Some decisions, you’ve always thought, are made for you at a cosmic level. Your favourite colours. Your favourite foods. Hot and cold weather people. Loving or hating marmite. A predisposition to enjoying scary movies or being the kind of person who hides behind a pillow. 
This is another one of those. You don’t have to think twice about it — you just know. You know because a great unstoppable force managed to squeeze you together at the perfect moment in time; the ever-expanding universe around you has kept you and Jihoon side by side through everything it could possibly throw at you. 
“Yes.”
Of course you want to spend your forever with him. 
The word leaves your mouth in a whisper and everything flies back into motion. The first black droplet rolls down your cheek. His usually so steady hands fumble with yours to slide the ring over your finger. A perfect fit. You’re hurtling through space and time as he gets up off his knees and cups your cheeks, gently pulling you upright and crashing his lips against yours. You stumble into him slightly in your heels; his kiss is more a chaotic clatter of teeth and giddy laughter than perhaps the intense, romantic gesture he was aiming for, but it’s completely, utterly, unequivocally perfect.
Jihoon’s fancy dress shirt creases under your fingers as you ball it into your fists where the top buttons are spread open, pulling him as close as you can, laughter dying down as he loses himself in you and as you lose yourself in him, right back. He swallows all of your gasps and sighs, hands sliding down from your face to the sides of your neck, until he’s resting a palm on each of your shoulders. A single finger slips beneath one of the straps and he pulls it out of the way, down onto your arm, withdrawing from your mouth so that he can press a series of kisses down your cheek and to your jaw instead.
“Ji,” you murmur, tipping your head back and fumbling at the buttons running the length of his torso, trying and failing to get them open. He chuckles, his other hand coming to rest over yours to stop you. You lace your fingers together, feeling him squeeze. Your heart pounds.
“Let's take our time,” he whispers to you, thumb grazing over your collarbone. “Okay?”
All you can do is nod as he kisses lower, and lower, pressing his lips everywhere he can while he’s still standing. Your neck and shoulders feel ablaze, tickling with the heat of the burning stars his mouth paints across your skin. 
“Need-... Ji, you need to-... call… call the restaurant,” you stutter. “Gotta…. we need to cancel…”
The fleeting sting of his teeth against your throat interrupts you and you’re only aware of him reaching behind you to tug the zipper of your dress down when the material falls completely slack..
“In a minute,” he says, helping you walk backwards until your calves collide with the bed behind you once again. He eases you to lie down on the comforter and crawls on top of you, caging you in with both arms, taking hold of your left hand again.
He looks down at the ring on your finger, his entire face breaking into the most brilliant of smiles. Every inch, from the creases at the corners of his eyes to the paling stretch of his beautiful lips. 
“My future wife needs taking care of, first.”
– no you won’t need it no more, let’s just kiss ‘til we’re naked, baby.
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hehe thank u sm for reading!! i hope you enjoyed this bc it was a bit special 2 me. likes, reblogs, comments + feedback are all, as always, greatly appreciated.<3
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goldengleams · 6 months
Note
Can you do a “things that make sense as a boyfriend” for jack please?? :)
here you go!!!
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jack is definitely a softie
like he won’t admit it or ask to cuddle you but if you’re laying down in bed or on the couch he will for sure be laying right on your boobs
lowkey not great at texting back but he knows this so he tries to leave you little love notes around the house every once in a while to make up for it
isn’t a huge fan of pda but will always, always have a hand on your back at all times
also loves to walk like, directly next to you
like you’ll be out on a walk and jack is just…in your space
“j, move over, im tripping over you.”
“trippin, stumblin,”
“im literally going to shove you off the curb!”
jack is private but not shy
but it does take a while for him to introduce you to the fam because he’s nervous about the attention
but to combat this…
i feel like jack would pay attention to the videos you watch and where you’ve said you want to travel
“babe, wake up!”
“jack, it’s 7 in the morning, go back to bed!”
“fine, but if you want to get up, we can get on a flight to your favorite beach by noon.”
“…”
“you’re insane. but also yes, i am up.”
spontaneous when he has time!!
will always be down to try out new restaurants or walk around in nyc
im gonna go with you living in nyc/nj because i see jack with a city girl
you’re always teasing him about not knowing how to drive and always ordering rides instead of taking the subway
jack isn’t overly protective but he definitely wants to make sure you get home safe every night
oh to add onto the city thing
jack would 100% go do all of the christmas stuff with you
like he’s beaming when he sees your eyes light up at the sights of the busiest city around the holidays
mans lives to make you smile
definitely competitive
like is obsessed with watching sports and playing against you in fantasy football
already has stupid shit planned for you because he’s determined that you’re going to lose
“im only losing because you and luke were scheming against me!”
“better luck next time baby!”
not good at cooking but does like to bake with you
(side note: will literally never admit to anyone that he enjoys watching the great british baking show with you. never)
easygoing, so fights don’t happen that much
but he will get snippy with you around the beginning of the season
and if he’s hurt…
“jack, im just trying to help you, you put yourself in more pain trying to put your shirt on alone.”
“I don’t want help, ive got it. go away.”
will be the first one to apologize after a fight
gets emotional over you because jack cares about you a lot, just sometimes isn’t the best at communication
but once you guys talk he is smothering you in a big hug and wiping your tears away
ellen taught this man well obviously
lets you say what he wasn’t ready to hear before and like actually understands you
“I love you, always will.”
“love you too, j.”
Just a few thoughts for you!! Send in some more requests and I’ll try to do them in between my finals!!
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kdogreads · 9 months
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Imagine being Luca’s girl
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Mostly ooey gooey fluff but a smidge of NSFW material below 🤭
You grow to love Carmy and Marcus
Because how couldn’t you? You spent many long nights in your kitchen with Carmy and Luca, both of them meticulously perfecting whatever they were working on for class. You’d be their chief taste-tester, and a welcomed distraction when they got too far in their own heads. You nearly cried you guys dropped him off at the airport, already telling him to call soon.
After Marcus left, you almost had Luca convinced you wanted to move to Chicago. You were constantly remarking about how funny Marcus was, how you hoped Carmy was being nice to Marcus. Luca liked to joke you just wanted to leave him for Marcus.
He’s good, baby, but not as good as you.
Maybe I just wanted to hear you say it, my love.
You take walks around Copenhagen everyday
You take morning walks by yourself, headphones in and the cool Danish air revitalizing your senses, filling the day while Luca is at work. You’d listen to Danish lessons and quietly practice as you walked, or hum along to music while you enjoyed the weather. Sometimes you still don’t believe you get to live in a place this beautiful.
When he finishes up his day, though, Luca is beside you with his strong fingers tangled lovingly in yours. Whether he’s taking you to try a new spot that just opened up, or just to enjoy some time together, Luca loves seeing your face light up at all the pretty views throughout the city.
Plus you love having your friends and family visit and taking them around to all the coolest new pop-ups or the oldest buildings in the Historic District.
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He always wants to have his hands on you
A hand resting on your thigh when you’re sitting together at a restaurant, or on your lower back while you work in the kitchen. Sometimes he just wraps his strong arms around you and tucks his head into your neck, regardless of where you are or what you’re doing. Luca’s always touching you in some way.
A lot of the touches are innocent, a soft tap to your nose to punctuate a sentence or a gentle squeeze on your bicep before he leaves the room. Not all, though, are so sweetly motivated.
He knows just how to get you worked up. A kiss to your neck turns into a bite to your earlobe and dirty words whispered into your ear.
You’re so pretty, you know that, sweet girl?
Luca…
Let’s get you home, hm? Can’t keep my hands off you, my love.
THE SEX
Luca works with his hands and that translates to all areas of his life.
His fingers dance down your body, stopping at all his favorite places. Squeezing your nipples or a pinching your inner thighs is how he starts off most of the time — his ultimate goal to drive you wild.
When he decides he’s teased enough, though, oof. This man knows exactly how to make you writhe beneath him, whines of ecstasy filling his ears and spurring him on.
He’ll make you cum at least twice before he even thinks about fucking you. Luca is convinced he’s in heaven when cries of his name fall from your pink lips, swollen from literally biting back moans.
He’ll pound you into the mattress or make love to you like it’s the last time depending on what you two were vibing with that day. He never tries anything new without first discussing it with you, but sometimes you just want him to fuck you like you’re his own personal whore and he is happy to oblige.
Luca can be so sickeningly sweet, too, that you can’t help questioning how you got so lucky. He’ll hold your face with his strong hands, cradling your head and pressing soft kisses into your lips. He whispers in your ear how much he loves you and how beautiful you are and how he can’t wait to spend his life with you while he grinds his hips into you, his thick cock reaching all the delicious spots you love. Swoon.
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Luca is just so fucking in love with you it hurts
He can’t help but talk about you at work and brag about how fire your cooking is or how good you are at Scrabble. Literally any excuse he can use to just dote on you is good enough for him.
He leaves you love letters by the bed, picks up a bouquet of wildflowers on his way home, loads the laundry so you don’t have to, literally anything to make you smile. It’s his favorite sight in the whole world.
You’d have the prettiest Copenhagen wedding
When Luca finally proposes — he kept you guessing for months after going to a jeweler to look at rings — He presents you with the most perfectly delicate and elegant ring. You wear it proudly, beaming to anyone who will listen how much you love it.
It’s a simple fall wedding, complete with handmade pastries and desserts that Marcus insisted on making for free. Short and sweet, your vows are so mushy and loving that they leave everyone in attendance blubbering, even Carmy.
Luca promises to give you a beautiful life and spend all of his days making you laugh. You promise to support his every dream and be his place to land when he needs to rest. Swoon again.
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Basically Luca is just the sweetest, most thoughtful partner ever and you happily spend all your days making sure he knows how much you love him for it
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footygirl114 · 11 months
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Cervecería (Alexia Putellas x Reader)
Hi friends, this is a bit late (but better late than never?) The one I was inspired to write post that champions league win with Alexia beelining it to someone in the crowd. It’s definitely not the best thing I have written but I know if i keep editing it I’ll scrap it so this is as good as it’ll get 
The need to not live through another Canadian winter was the biggest draw that made you start a second business in Spain. Having started a successful craft brewery in Toronto, you knew exactly what you needed to do, when you brought the craft beer craze to Barcelona. 
You had been in the city for 7 months, your restaurant had only opened a month ago but you were happy with how it was going. It was a process to get it open, but once you realised you needed to find someone who spoke both Spanish and Catalan and was familiar with the restaurant business it became a lot smoother. 
You had found a spot near to the downtown without being ridiculously priced, you wanted to draw tourists but you also didn’t want to scare away any locals. The starting days were slow but as more advertising and more interest in different craft beers gre you started to get busier. Fridays and Saturdays were busy enough you had to hire extra staff, but during the week you liked to be the one behind the bar. 
The whole reason you got into the brewery business in the first place, was because you loved to connect with people and share your love of beer with them. The best way you were able to do that was to be the one serving it, plus it was helping with learning Spanish. 
You also drew in a unique crowd on game days, you had all the subscriptions from back home which meant you were able to play many American sports. You also always had at least one TV dedicated to women games. 
About 6 weeks after you opened you were tending the bar on a slow Wednesday night, the crowd had died off after the Barca Femini game was completed, but you still had a few stragglers around. Movement caught your eye where you cleaning tables and you watched a slim female with her hair pulled in a pony tail, black hat and hoodie on walk in and settle at the end of the bar. 
Moving back behind the bar she looked up and met your eyes and immediately you were drawn in to her expressive eyes. You moved toward her and said “Hola, can I get you anything?” 
She smiled at you and said “Agua?” 
You raise an eyebrow at her and ask “You come into a brewery sit at the bar and order water?” 
She chuckles and shrugs and asks “should I sit somewhere else then?” 
“no no no but let me make you a deal” you smile wanting to hear her laugh again.
She raises an eye brow as she asks “What’s the deal?” 
You smirk and step back moving to pour her a glass of water, and a small taster pint of your favourite beer. You place both glasses in front of her as you tell her “I will keep pouring you the finest water all night, IF you try this small glass of my favourite beer” 
She chuckles shaking her head and smiles at you as she holds out her hand and says “deal.” 
You laugh and place your hand in hers, immediately feeling a tingling run up your arm, you tell her “I’m Y/N by the way.” 
“Alexia” she says and releases your hand and grabs the beer glass. She slowly raises it to her lips meeting your eyes over the glass. She holds your gaze as she takes a sip. 
You keep your eyes on her as she places it down and you ask “well?” 
“I can see why its your favourite” she says with a smile. 
Before you can say anything else another customer draws  your attention away. You have to deal with an issue in the kitchen and one with the supply closets. Its almost half an hour later when you make it back behind the bar. When you get back she is standing up looking around for you. 
Smiling you walk up asking her “leaving so soon?” 
She chuckles and says “si, just needed some fresh air. I can grab my bill though” 
You shake your head and say “it’s on the house” 
“Won’t your boss be upset” she asks with a smile. 
You chuckle and say “I think they’ll be okay.”
“well thank you” she says with another smile. Your name is called by another server and you turn toward them as she says “I’ll get out of your hair Y/N” 
You chuckle out a bye before turning and tending to your team.The rest of the night is spent thinking about the Beautiful girl who sat at your bar. You have a feeling you recognise her but are unsure how you would. Until you are closing up and you see her face on the TV, chuckling you can’t help but think how you just embarrassed yourself in front of the queen of football. 
**
You spend the next week elbow deep in testing a new batch of beer. It consumes you when you have an idea and you cannot put it into the taste correctly. Working late one night the bar is pretty quiet apart from a few regulars, you have taken over a table near the far side of the bar which is slightly hidden. Your notes are spread out all over the table and you are completely consumed in them until you hear your name at the bar. 
You had told your staff to act like you are not here, but when you recognise the voice ask for a water you smile to your self and look up and see Alexia sitting at your bar. As you get up to walk towards her you recall that you had seen the Barca team had played earlier in the evening away. 
“looking for me” you ask her as you step beside her at the bar. 
Alexia and your bartender, Sam, turns towards you with their own expressions. Alexia looks happy to see you, and you bartender is giving you the raised eyebrow as she thought you didn’t want to be disturbed. 
“I thought you weren’t here tonight boss” your bartender asks. 
“boss?” Alexia echos.
You chuckle at them both and you say “I’m not here tonight Sam” to your bartender who gets the hint with a chuckle turning away. 
“Boss?” Alexia asks you again. 
Chuckling you move behind the bar and grab a small pint glasses as you tell her “I own the place.” 
She looks at you and with a low whistle she says “Impressive” 
“thank you” you say as you move and pour a glass of another one of your beers. You place it in front of her and say “If our deal still stands this is another one of my favourite beers” 
She grabs it and asks “if you brew them all do you have a least favourite?” 
You chuckle and say “not really, well just the one I cant figure out right now”
“Can I help?” she asks and takes a sip of the beer with a low moan. “sorry that one is really good” she says with a blush. 
You chuckle and say “its cute” and then immediately blush and say “I just cant get what is in my head to translate into the beer. I have this taste I can imagine but I cannot find the right combination of hops and flavours to get it right” you ramble on. 
“What’s the flavour?” she asks with a smile.
You blush almost forgetting she was there during your ramble and say “I am sorry you don’t want to hear me nerd out about beer” 
She shakes her head and reaches across to grab your hand as she says “I kinda want to know everything you’ll share” 
Before you can respond her phone buzzes and she reaches down looking at the screen and then gets up reaching for her wallet. You place your hand on her wallet and say “This one is on the house in exchange for the ramble” 
“You know I can afford to pay for my beers” she says. 
Immediately you shake your head and say “I know you can La reina, but I do really hope this makes you keep coming back” finishing with a wink.
She blushes at the nickname and leans across the bar and presses a kiss to your cheek as she whispers into your ear “You will make me come back.” She then turns and walks towards the door turning at the door with a wink she disappears. 
You continue staring at the door when you hear Sam walk back behind you and say “Nice work boss, I thought you’d lose her with the beer talk” 
You chuckle and whip your towel at her say “get back to work.”
**
The following two weeks you see Alexia 3 more times at your bar, always on days the Barca team plays. You looked her up after the last time and know she’s not playing yet but is very close to being back. You both have flirted but nothing else other than the one cheek kiss has happened. You both just keeping things light and flirty. She has slowly worked her way through some of your staple beers. 
When the next Barca game happens and she doesn’t show up to the bar that night you have to admit that you were very disappointed. You knew that it was all just a fantasy and flirting but it definitely hurt that she decided you weren’t worth it. 
You were deep in the back room tonight still trying to perfect your beer. You kept one small cask in the back room where you used it to experiment with your brews, this time being no different. Your desk back here was covered in notes and you had a white board with formulas and flavours all over it. During the day the back part of the brewery was a hive of activity keeping up with the demand of brewing beers, but at night it was quiet which is when you loved to use the time to work on your own stuff. 
Tonight was no different, you were still a bit hurt and disappointed in your self for being hurt about Alexia so thats why you were staying hidden in the back not out front tonight. The staff knew you were here and knew not to bug you when you were back here. 
So when you heard the door open you didn’t even look back when you said “Sam I thought I told you not to interrupt me tonight” 
You hear the steps falter and someone take a deep breath as they ask “I was just looking for a glass of Aqua”
Immediately you turn and can feel your cheeks blush as you say “Alexia, what are you doing here?” 
She still doesn’t come any closer as she says “I wanted to tell you something, and then if you want me to not interrupt you I will go”
You nod at her and lean back against the desk behind you.
She slowly steps towards you and says “I know you know who I am, and you should know then that I have been injured and not playing for awhile?” 
You nod and smile saying softly “I do know that” 
She keeps slowly stepping closer as she continues “Well that first time I walked in here, was after one of the teams away games. I still wasn’t travelling with the team and I watched them almost lose and knew that I let them down. So I needed some air and went for a walk, I saw the sign on your bar and decided to come in and have some water and then leave.” 
“But you didn’t” you tell her softly as she stops in front of you.
“No I didn’t” she says. “for the first time in a very long time I forgot who I was letting down, I was able to just be me Alexia, not me the captain who let her team down. That was because of you, something about you just drew me in and I kept coming back any time we played so I could be that person again.” 
You smile softly at her and say “I am glad to help.” 
“Last night was my first game back Y/N” She smiles at you. 
You smile back and say “I am proud of you Ale” 
She steps another step closer so she is right in front of you and grabs your hands softly as she says “The only reason I was able to be back last night and not let the team down was because I kept picturing your voice in my head talking about beer. It helped to ground me and remind me that I am Alexia as well as the captain” 
You close the gap even more and move your hand to her cheek as you say “I am glad that you have that then Ale. I am honoured to be able to do that for you” 
She steps closer and looks down at your lips looking back up meeting your eyes you nod slightly and lean in slowly. You feel her breathe on your lips when the door slams open again and Sam walks in as she says “Sorry boss, need to change the keg.”
Immediately Alexia has sprung back from you and you both turn slightly away from each other. “It’s okay Sam come in.”
“I should go” Alexia says “I have training early tomorrow” 
“You don't have to go” you say at the same time Sam says “did I interrupt?” 
“No you didn’t Sam, I was just leaving” Alexia says as she flees the back room. 
“sorry boss?” Sam says with a smirk. 
“Sam?”
“Yeah boss?”
“how did she get back here?” you ask her. 
She shrugs and grabs the keg and says “I may have told her to come back here at her own risk”
“But you still interrupted?” you ask. 
She laughs and says “honestly I forgot, and needed a keg badly. I really didn’t think you would been that position though boss” 
You blush and move to help her as you say “me either”
**
That moment was burned in your brain, every free moment you had your brain was immediately back in the store room. You watched her sit on the bench in the following champions league game, but you at least now knew why she didn’t come in to the bar on that day. You waited the rest of the week for her to show again, she didn’t. 
It was just before bar opening on the day of the second leg of the champions league. You knew that it was home game and you knew that you wouldn’t see her today. You were hoping she would show tomorrow but you can only hope. 
You were sat at the bar, with your note book open and three samples of your newest beer in front of you trying to decide which one would be the closest to the taste you want. You hear the door open and turn and to greet who you would think is one of your servers since you aren’t open and instead you are shocked and say “Alexia! I didn’t expect to see you today.” 
She is dressed in her pre game outfit when she walks closer to you and says “I needed to see you before I go to play today.”
You look at her with a questioning look and ask “you did?” 
She stops right in front of you and says “I cant get you out of my head Y/N” 
“You can’t?”
She turns you and spins you towards her on your stool. She steps right in between your legs and says “I keep thinking about kissing you Y/N, and I know I should be able to focus on football, but I just keep thinking about you” 
“Thats not good than Ale, what are you going to do?” you ask with a smirk. 
She smiles and says “I know what I want to do but I do not have the time for that.” 
You chuckle and move your hands to her hips and you ask “want to make a deal?” 
Smirking she nods and says “what’s the deal?” 
“You go out and with the champions league and you can kiss me as much as you want” you say with a smirk moving your hand to her cheek. 
She laughs and holds out her hand between you and asks “Only if I can take you out on a date too?” 
“deal” and you put your hand in hers shaking it softly. 
“I have to go” she says softly
You nod and whisper “good luck Ale” before turning and grabbing your pen and writing your number down on a piece of paper. You hand it to her with a smirk saying “I hope this will help you focus now”
She smiles and presses a kiss to your cheek saying “I have an objective now I will be fully focused on completing it.” as she backs away slowly. 
You chuckle watching her and say “Good luck la reina” 
**
The month in between the day the deal was made and the champions league final was a tense one, in the best way possible. Anytime you both texted, which was any free time between her trainings and games and your bar, the flirting was relentless. You only saw her twice in the month but she confessed to you that she couldn’t see you or else she would have to, in her words, “press you against the wall and make you see stars.” 
You knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off her either but you wanted to hear her voice, which lead to phone calls every single night. No matter how late you were at the bar she would sleepy wake up just to ask you about your day. 
The day of the final she called you as she was about to leave in a bit of panic. She needed to hear your voice to remind her that she is Alexia too and not just the captain. All of the media and build up of her return was getting into her head and you knew she just needed to be grounded. You happily helped and reminded her of your deal and you couldn’t wait to taste her. 
The bar threw a watch party and it was packed. The mood was sombre at halftime with Barca being down 2-0. You nervously paced waiting for the second half. When it started and Alexia came on at the start of half you couldn’t help but smile.
It was like the team changed with her and when immediately it sparked the team to score 2 quick goals the bar was electric cheering. When the 85th minute rolled around you were nervous, but you knew that once you saw Alexia gather a crappy clearance from the wolfsburg back line this was it. She cut in once around a defender just above the top of the 18 where she lined up and put a screamer in the top left corner. 
That was it, they held on and the bar was electric and the party lasted all night. You snuck away to speak to Alexia briefly on the phone, but she couldn’t talk as she was pulled away. You turned the excitement you had and finally got the mixture right on your beer. You immediately had given samples out to have a second opinion and it was a hit. 
She inspired you just like you did to her. When the parade for the team was organised and you knew they would be coming out side your bar you kept an eye out. Once it was the time for them to come this way, you pushed your way to the front of the crowd. 
When the team came around the corner you hoped that you would be able to catch her. It was like when she came around the corner she could sense you, as she immediately met your eyes and her smile lit up her whole face. 
You watched as she turned and almost sprinted to you, when she reached you she had placed her hands on your hips pulling you in. You placed your hand around her neck with a smile as she says “A deal is a deal Y/N”
You nod and say “You won it all Ale, time for my end of the deal” and you lean and press your lips to hers hard. She immediately presses back and you lose yourself in her forgetting about the crowd around you. You just feel the sparks only she has been able to give you. 
When the need to breathe comes to much you both pull back and you slowly hear the crowd around you again, where you pull back slightly and whisper “wow.” 
She smiles and says “I gotta go finish this thing” with a jerk of her thumb over her shoulder.
Nodding you say “come by after and you can finally taste my favourite beer I just finished” 
She smiles wide “you finished it?” 
“I did” 
“Then I cannot wait, but only if it comes with the finest aqua you have” she says with a smile and you cant help but laugh and press your lips to hers one more time. 
682 notes · View notes
merrybloomwrites · 4 months
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I Hear Them Calling (Chapter 5)
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Story Summary: Alpha Harry Styles and omega Y/N Y/L/N meet under less than ideal circumstances. Overtime their paths will cross and they will be drawn to one another in ways they never expected.
Chapter Summary: Harry and Y/N spend the weekend together in Chicago
Previous Chapters: Prologue ; Chapter 1 ; Chapter 2 ; Chapter 3 ; Chapter 4
Word Count: 3.8k
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“So, what are we going to see in the city?” You ask Harry. You’re both on the couch eating fruit, since Harry insisted you needed some sort of snack to hold you over until lunch.
“Well, first, we should swing by your hotel. Figured you might want to get changed,” he replies. You laugh and nod in agreement. While you wouldn’t mind living in Harry’s comfy clothes doused in his scent, you know that going in public, with him, wearing his clothes, is admittedly a terrible idea.
“Then obviously some lunch,” he continues. “And after that, I have no idea. Maybe see where the day takes us?”
“I like that plan,” you answer. Normally you like to have everything totally scheduled out, but you’re excited to see what experiences might happen naturally.
“We can keep your things in the car while we’re out and stop back here to drop them off on our way to the arena later,” he adds.
“Am I staying here tonight?” You inquire.
He pauses, trying to find the right words. “I would like for you to stay,” he finally says. “It’s just, you’re only hours out of a drop. And you said that hasn’t happened for a long time. I would like you to stay close to me in case something happens. And uhm, my alpha is fairly attached to your omega at the moment.” Harry blushes and his eyes look down at his fingers as he finishes his sentence.
“Harry?” you say, and his gaze meets yours. “I’d love to stay.”
His anxious face instantly morphs into one of excitement and he says, “Fantastic! Okay, I’m going to call a car to take us to your hotel and we can start our adventure.”
“It’s only a couple of blocks, we could walk it.”
At this he seems nervous again and he quickly explains, “It’s probably best if we drive. We’ll be more under the radar that way, and I don’t necessarily want to be seen in public too much.”
“Oh, right, of course. That totally makes sense.” There’s an insecure part of your brain telling you that it’s because he doesn’t want to be seen with you, just some average nobody, but you tell that voice to shut up. Harry would never be so callous, so shallow. He simply wants his privacy.
A few minutes later you’re back in your quiet hotel room. Harry is waiting in the car, so you quickly get changed and freshen up. You spray on our scent blockers and are disappointed that you no longer smell like Harry. He put on blockers before leaving his hotel as well so now it will be hours before you’ll catch his scent again. If you’re lucky. You remind yourself this whole situation is temporary, and you should take what you get.
Your belongings are mostly packed so it only takes a minute to get everything together. When you reenter the car you let out the breath you’d been holding while separated from Harry. You admit to yourself you are still feeling the effects of the drop, and you allow yourself to revel in the presence of an alpha. Normally the idea that you need to rely on an alpha for anything would make you mad, but not right now. Not when that alpha greets you with a shy smile as you slide into your seat next to him. And especially not when that alpha reaches over so your hands are resting close enough to just barely touch.
It's a bit of a drive to the restaurant Harry picked out, and you pass the time making small talk. You discuss your families, hobbies, favorite vacation spots, anything you can think of. Nothing is all that crazy or interesting, but Harry is locked in on every word you say. It makes you feel warm inside, having his full attention and knowing he truly wants to hear what you have to say.
Harry is so absorbed in the conversation that even he is surprised when the car stops outside the restaurant. He gets out, quickly moving around the car to open your door for you and lead you inside. The diner he’s chosen is lowkey, giving hole in the wall vibes, and you think it’s perfect.
It’s not empty, but the crowd there doesn’t bat an eye as you two walk in. A quick glance around the room shows that you’re the youngest people there by far. Everyone is engaged in conversation or reading the newspaper or a book they’ve brought with them. It makes you feel comfortable, relaxed, and you know you’re going to enjoy this lunch.
You’re seated together at a table towards the back, and a waiter comes over to take your drink orders. After he walks away it’s quiet for a moment, both you and Harry reading through the menu. He comes back a few minutes later to take your food orders. Once he leaves again you fold your hands on the table in front of you and look at Harry.
He’s sitting the same way, hands folded just inches from yours, and his eyes are already on you.
“So,” he hesitantly begins. “What’s your favorite song?”
“Like, of yours?”
He laughs before saying, “No, just, in general. But I am also curious what your favorite of mine is.”
You think for a moment, and you catch him chuckling and your very serious thinking face. “I guess all-time favorite song might be ‘Annie’s Song’ by John Denver. It was my parents’ wedding song, so we played it a lot at home. Makes me think of them.” You smile and think again for a moment before saying, “And my favorite song of yours, well, that’s harder to choose. I think maybe ‘Canyon Moon’. It’s just so fun, and upbeat. It’s the first one that really hooked me on your music.”
“That is a fun one, yeah. Kind of bummed it’s off the setlist if I’m honest. And I too love a little John Denver occasionally.”
The discussion on music lasts until your food is placed on the table. The delicious smell alerts you to how hungry you are, and you immediately dig in. Conversation stops again so the two of you can eat.
As Harry settles the bill (which you attempt to help pay for, but he quickly denies) he says, “We’ve got about an hour before we need to head back to the hotel and get ready. There’s a park nearby. What do you say about a little stroll?”
“That sounds perfect,” you reply.
He stays close to you as you walk the couple blocks to the park. His hand reaches out towards you multiple times but he pulls it back like he’s afraid to make contact. It keeps your mind spinning, wondering what’s he’s thinking when he does this. Is it an unconscious gesture? Is it a protective one? Does he just want to be touching you the way that you want to be touching him?
Once in the park he leads you to a bench by a small lake. The bushes grant you both some privacy from the few other people who are walking nearby.
“So,” he says timidly. “How are you feeling today? After the drop and everything.”
You take a moment to assess in order to answer truthfully. “Honestly, I feel pretty good right now. Like, better than I have in weeks. I think my omega really needed that break.”
“You said your meds lost their potency right? And that’s been going on for weeks then, at least since the first show you came to. How have you been coping with all of that? Do you nest at all?”
“I tried nesting in the past, but it never brought the peace people said it would. I guess cause most people are betas now so it’s harder to get alpha or other omega scents. And without those nests aren’t as comforting.”
“That has to be frustrating. I’m sorry it’s so difficult for omegas. I wish things were different for you guys, I truly do.”
“Thanks. Me too. Can I ask, why do you keep your alpha status a secret?”
“I guess because people have certain views of alphas. They think we’re mean and controlling and yea, a lot of alphas are these days. I just didn’t want people to judge me before getting to know me. Plus, some record labels and managers don’t want to work with alphas. Say they’re too unpredictable or difficult.”
“Seems like it’s tough for alphas too.”
“Yea, but at least we’re safe. No one tries to cross us or control us. I can’t imagine what it’s like to have your free will taken away by an alpha command.”
“It’s definitely not fun,” you say, shivering at the memory of being frozen and silenced just by a knothead alphas words.
Noticing your slight distress, Harry places his hand on your knee and says, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought that up, I know you have bad memories with that.”
You’re instantly soothed by him, and you reach out to place your hand on top of his. You have no idea where the courage to touch him like that comes from, and you’re about to pull away when he flips his hand until your palms are touching and he’s able to intertwine his fingers with yours.
The sound of your purring is sudden and surprising. It’s not something that happens often, and you almost cut it off, but you see the smile that breaks out on Harry’s face. You sit there, holding hands, and purring softly. Neither of you tries to start a conversation, just enjoying the moment.
Harry’s phone ringing brings you both back to reality. His driver is on the line, reminding Harry that it’s time to head back in order to stay on schedule. He lets go of your hand as you leave the bench, and though you’re disappointed, you remind yourself of the media frenzy that would ensue if Harry was caught holding hands with a girl.
You’re especially soothed when he reaches out for your hand again once in the privacy of the car. Just like the earlier drive, you get to know each other better, this time discussing favorite books at length.
He insists on carrying your luggage into the hotel for you, and letting you have the first shower. You’re in the living room finishing your hair when Harry walks out of the bathroom, having finished his own shower. He’s wrapped in a towel, water dripping off his hair and down his chest. You pray that your suppressants still work well enough to at least prevent unwanted slick production. Because you would literally die of embarrassment if the telltale scent of honey filled the room.
“Sorry, so sorry, forgot to grab clothes,” he says as he dashes into the bedroom to grab an outfit from the dresser. He jogs back into the bathroom and closes the door behind him. You let out the breath you’ve been holding and quickly reel in your thoughts to ensure your face isn’t still beet red when he comes back out.
You force yourself to focus on perfecting your hair in an effort to erase the image of a practically naked Harry. Or at least, erase temporarily. While you’re in his presence. It works, because by the time he comes out again, now dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, you’ve fully contained your thoughts.
“Car will be here in five minutes, you almost ready?”
“Yup, just gotta grab my phone,” you say before walking back into the bedroom to get the phone from where it’s been charging. Harry’s scent is strongest here, likely because he’s been sleeping there for weeks, plus he was broadcasting his scent the night before during your drop. It’s so potent that you almost feel dizzy. You shake your head in an attempt to clear it, quickly get the phone, and rejoin Harry in the living room.
He's distracted during the drive over, checking updates on his phone that he’d been ignoring during the day. It’s hectic but organized at the venue. There’s so much to be done but it’s a well-oiled team and everyone does their job well. You hang out in Harry’s dressing room for the most part, wanting to be out of the way.
There’s a brief moment after Harry is ready and before he needs to go on stage, and you need to find your place in the crowd. You’re finally alone again, and the two of you are standing facing each other. He reaches out to hold both your hands between his and he says, “I have another question for you.”
You’ve been asking each other questions all day, most lighthearted, some serious. But you can tell by his tone that this may be the most important one yet.
You meet his eyes, encouraging him to go on, and after a moment of nervous hesitation he says, “I’ve really like spending time with you. I’ve known for awhile that my alpha had formed a connection with your omega, and I thought that’s where my feelings for you came from. But after today I know that I just like you. You’re funny, and smart, and beautiful. So, uhm, I was wondering, will you go on a date? With me?”
You’re speechless for a moment, so you nod your head yes while trying to process everything he just said.
“Can I take you out tomorrow morning for brunch?” He continues.
Finally, you find your voice and say, “Yes, Harry, that sounds perfect.”
The brightest, most boyish smile spreads across his face. Harry’s about to speak again but there’s a knock on the door and a voice telling him he needs to leave the room in one minute.
Harry quickly says, “Can I scent you? Before you go out there?” You again nod yes, knowing that he needs this, needs to protect you in this way even though you’ll be in a VIP section with plenty of security.
Plus, you’ve decided that you’d have to be insane to ever say no when he asks that question. One of his large hands cups the side of your neck while his nose moves to the scent gland on the opposite side. It slides against your skin, and you’re surrounded by his mouthwatering smell. He presses one gentle kiss directly near your mating spot before he pulls back, gives you one last dazzling smile, and walks out the door.
Jada walks in to find you still standing, dazed, in the middle of the room. “Need a minute?” she asks with a knowing smirk.
“Just, uhm, gonna use the…bathroom, real quick,” you stutter out before fleeing through the door to the attached restroom. You quickly take some deep breaths and grab toilet paper to clean up the slick that had escaped. Thankfully you’d held it in until Harry left, and Jada, being a beta, would be none the wiser. Still, you need to pull yourself together and get your desire under control before you embarrass yourself.
Once you’re ready she leads you to the VIP section. You feel amazing, completely opposite from the night prior and you know that you owe it all to Harry. Not once during the entire show do you feel dizzy, or anxious, or any of the negative emotions you’ve been feeling for weeks. Instead, you feel electric, especially during the handful of moments when Harry’s eyes find yours in the crowd, sharing a special look with you.
You’re screaming along with all the other fans as Harry runs out of the venue. Jada then leads you out to the car the two of you will be taking back to the hotel. The ten-minute drive turns into almost thirty with all the post-concert traffic.
Back at the hotel, you knock on the door to Harry’s room. Technically it’s also yours now, and yes, you do have a key, but it still feels weird just walking in while you know he’s there. It takes a moment but finally he’s opening the door for you. As you take in his appearance, you realize you made the right decision to knock. His hair is, once again, wet, he has pajama pants on and is quickly throwing on a shirt. Obviously he’s just showered again, and you know you would not have survived seeing him with any less clothes on.
“There you are,” he says, smiling and pulling you in for a hug as the door closes behind you. For a moment you’re surprised, but quickly melt into the embrace.
Before pulling away he says, “Why don’t you change into some comfy clothes, and we can put on a movie.” You head to the bedroom, grabbing your own set of pajamas before changing and washing your face. Once you feel clean and comfortable you join Harry in the living room.
He’s already laid out blankets on the couch and pulled up the latest Rom Com on the TV. After confirming that you want to watch it, he presses play and you snuggle under your blanket.
You try to pay attention to the movie, truly, you do. But Harry’s right there, sitting next to you, looking perfectly cozy and domestic, not a single scent blocker covering the delicious smell that’s started to feel like home to you.
It’s not surprising when you start to subconsciously shift closer and closer to him. He notices the small movements, and without hesitation, wraps and arm around you and pulls you close to him. He adjusts the blankets so that you’re tucked in before leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.
Feeling safer and more content than you have in possibly your entire adult life, you fully relax. The next thing you know, you’re being gently placed into the bed. Sensing that you’re awake, Harry smooths down your hair and says, “Get some sleep, love,” as he pulls the covers over you.
***
Waking up with Harry’s arm slung around your middle is unexpected, but entirely welcomed. Everything feels so warm, so safe. His arm unconsciously tightens around you, and you snuggle deeper into the embrace.
It isn’t long before Harry wakes up, stretching out beside you and saying, “good morning.” His husky morning voice has you practically melting, but you still manage a “good morning” in reply.
Neither of you move for a while, choosing to lay there holding each other for as long as possible. It’s nice, once again feels rather domestic, and you have to stop yourself from imagining this happening every day. Your mating spot practically tingles at the thought of you and Harry bonded to each other, raising pups together in your home.
An alarm rings on Harry’s phone, thankfully stopping your daydream from getting too out of control. You take turns getting ready before heading to the car for your first official date.
Brunch is absolutely perfect. Harry had booked a private room to ensure fans and paparazzi wouldn’t be able to spy on your date. He steps away to use the restroom at one point, and you think about how it’s going so far. It’s just like any first date you’ve ever been on; better even.
It’s almost easy to forget that he’s this world-famous popstar. When it’s the two of you together, focusing on each other, he really just becomes the man of your dreams. The fact that he’s a respectful and gentle alpha is the icing on the cake.
After brunch you head back to the hotel to repack your bags before flying home. Harry watches sadly as you prepare to leave him. You ignore your own feelings for the moment, not wanting to cry in front of him. But truthfully, the fact that you have no idea when you’ll see him again is borderline devastating.
Once you’re packed and ready to go, Harry pulls you in for a hug. You stand there holding each other for a minute before he pulls back. You look up at his face, mere inches from yours, and note how his eyes are looking between your own eyes and your lips. His hands slide up your arms, your neck, until they’re cupping your face. He leans in and presses one simple kiss to your lips.
His eyes meet yours again, silently asking if that was alright. You can’t help but lean back in, giving him a couple kisses of your own.
It doesn’t go any further, and that alone brings you some peace. He’s not just doing this all to get into your pants the way many alphas would. Honestly, this whole weekend with him feels more like puppy love than anything.
 “Would it be alright if I scented you before you left?” Harry asks before adding “Since you’ll be at the crowded airport and everything, it might be safer if you smelled like you have an alpha.”
Some omegas might find this controlling, overwhelming, overprotective, but you know that’s not his intention at all. So you agree, and close your eyes as he leans in to scent you once more. It’s electric having him so close to you. It takes all your self-control to hold back a needy whine when he presses a kiss to your scent gland.  
“One more thing,” he says after pulling away. You watch in confusion as he walks back into the bedroom. He comes back out a minute later holding his green Pleasing sweatshirt. He hands it to you, and you can immediately tell he’d scented that as well. Without hesitation you slip in on, catching the satisfied smirk on his face as you do so.
You get a text from Jada letting you know a car is there to take you to the airport. Harry pulls you in for one last kiss, and having to leave his embrace is nearly physically painful for you. After saying a final, quiet goodbye, you grab your bag and walk out of the room.
All the stress of traveling seems miniscule compared to separating from the man who is quickly becoming one of your favorite people, not to mention is the alpha your omega seems to crave.
You arrive home pretty late that evening. The last thing you want to do is wash away Harry’s scent, but you desperately need a shower after an afternoon of travel. Thankfully you have his sweatshirt to burrow into.
You sleep peacefully that night, still surrounded by Harry’s scent, knowing the last text you received before bed was a message from Harry saying, “Sleep tight, I’ll call you tomorrow.”
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AN: Thank you so much for reading! So sorry for the long delay between chapters! Hoping to get the next chapter out much sooner!
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male-body-swap-lover · 4 months
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That Suburban Dad Life
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Nicholas Fletcher was young, but he was well on his way. A young ad exeuctive who lived in downtown Chicago. A stunning new condo at Wolf Point that looked directly down the south branch of the Chicago river. Not everyone was so lucky. And did he care? Not at all. Selfish. Unlikeable. Cutthroat. Just some words that described Nicholas Fletcher. At least he had the heart of Ms. Annabelle Davis. She came from a wealthy family and Nicholas saw it as a way to get ahead in his career. Today was the day he was going to propose to the “love” of his life. Unfortunately he was running late.
“God dammit. Stupid traffic. Why won’t these pedestrians move out of the way”, he said.
In his impatience, he accidentally hit the accelerator instead of the brake and hit an old woman walking in front of his car.
“Oh fuck” he said.
He got out of the car and walked to the old lady who had fallen. He tried to help her up but she swatted his hand away.
“I don’t need help. Could you not see I was walking” she screamed at him.
“Look lady, I am on my way to propose to my girlfriend. I don’t have time to wait for some old lady from the suburbs to cross the road. I’m sorry.
“Young man, you are impatient and unkind.”
“And you are kind of a dramatic bitch. Get up off the street so I can go.”
“All you young men are so rude. You call me suburban. I bet if you were suburban, you’d have some patience and manners.”
As she stood up, she whispered in his ear “I curse you. The next time you meet a woman from the suburbs, you are slowly going to turn into her ideal companion. It’ll teach you some manners and respect.”
Nicholas laughed as she slowly walked away. He got back into his car and sped away to Alinea.
He parked his car and was walking inside just as a young woman was walking out, crying. He tried to avoid her, but they accidentally bumped into each other.
“Oh I am so sorry. My boyfriend just dumped me. I came in all the way from Elgin and I thought he was going to propose, but he dumped me!” She started cring again.
Nicholas didn’t know how to respond, so he just muttered sorry and kept walking into the restaurant.
He greeted Annabelle and sat down. He had arranged to have the ring be presented as part of dessert. As they talked all through dinner, Nicholas felt off. He couldn’t get comfortable. Everything Annabelle kept talking about bored him. He just couldn’t figure out what was wrong with him and decided he wasn’t going to propose. He called the waiter over while she was in the bathroom and got him the stop the proposal. After finishing dinner, he parted ways with her and went home.
As he sat in his living room, he felt this weird urge to drive out to Elgin. He couldn’t shake the feeling so he decided to do it, and went into his room to change. He grabbed his cubs jersey and jeans, but for some reason he tucked his jersey into his jeans. He had to admit it looked dorky, but didn’t untuck it.
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He got into his car and drove out to the Elgin. He didn’t know where he was going so after driving around passing house after house, he went downtown and ended up at a bar. He sat down at the bar and ordered a beer, even though he normally got a martini. The game was on and he was enjoying it even though he rarely watched sports because he was always working.
After a while a young woman sat down next to him. They started talking and they had a really good time. He knew he should go home and call Annabelle, but he was having a good time. Hours passed and suddenly it was time for the bar to close. He paid for her drinks and they walked out. They ended up kissing goodnight and he got back into his car. Only when he got in, did he realize the woman was the woman he had run into hours earlier in the city. He couldn’t believe it. He drove back into the city and went to bed.
Weeks passed and Nicholas changed. Annabelle kept calling him but he dodged all of her calls. His performance at work went downhill. For some reasons, nothing was making sense. He stopped going to the gym and he started gaining weight. He even let his facial hair grow in more. Every time he looked in the mirror, he thought he was starting to look more like his father. Finally his boss came into his office and told Nicholas he had to take some time off of work. He needed rest. Nicholas realized he was right and went home.
A week passed and Nicholas didn’t leave his apartment at all. Finally he felt the urge to go out and went to put on some suitable clothes. However nothing fit. He had gained so much weight that he was no longer a 32 waist. He found some sweatpants and decided to go shopping to get some clothes that would fit. On instinct, he drove out to the suburbs and went shopping at Kohls. It seemed to go by in a whirlwind and he found himself back home with bags and bags of clothes. As he looked through the bags, he realized everything he bought was not fashionable. It was all dad attire. He pulled out a a polo shirt and some cargo shorts. He laid them on the bed and started laughing. This was not him at all. It was something he thought some dad out in the suburbs would wear.
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Then something came over him. Some insane urge to put on the clothes. So he stipped down. First he put on a white undershirt. Then he slipped on the polo shirt and buttonened one button. Then he put on the cargo shirts and tucked in his polo shirt. He grabbed a brown belt and cinched it around his waist. Then he grabbed a pair of white socks that he bought and put them on and pulled them all the way up. Then he slipped on a pair of sneakers and grabbed a baseball hat. He stood in front of the mirror and laughed. With his weight gain, and with his beard grown out, and with these clothes on, he could have passed for some suburban dad. He started laughing and then his body seized up.
Suddenly, Nicholas felt everything in his brain shifting. Thoughts of ads and revenue were replaced with electrical knowledge and wiring. Late nights at the office were replaced with thoughts of relaxing in a recliner with a beer watching sports. Weekends spent at the club were replaced with thoughts of grilling for the neighbors and mowing his lawn. Finally thoughts of Annabelle were replaced with thoughts of the woman he met at the bar, Natalie Richards. Nicholas suddenly snapped out of it. He looked around his trendy highrise apartment and knew that it was all wrong. He didn’t belong here. He belonged in the suburbs. He grabbed his keys, got in his car, and drove back to Elgin. For some reason he knew exactly where Natalie Richards lived. He got out the car, took a deep breath, and rang the doorbell. She answered the door.
“Hi Natalie, it’s Nick Fletcher. You may remember we met at the bar a few weeks ago. While I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, and was just wondering if you would like to go on a date?”
“Oh Nick, that’s so unexpected. Yes, I would love to. Just give me a few minutes to get ready! And don’t you look cute!”
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Nick stood outside and waited for Natalie. He struck up a conversation with some neighbors about the cubs performance. Time flew by and Nick and Natalie went on there date. Everything was perfect.
15 Years Later
Nick couldn’t believe how the years had flown by! The very next day after his first date with Natalie, he put his condo on the market and quit his ad job. He broke up with Annabelle and found a place out in Elgin. He also started his own electrician business with all the knowledge he had somehow gained out of nowhere. After six months of dating, Natalie and Nick got engaged, and six months later, they got married. Every part of Nick’s old life was gone. He no longer dressed in trendy clothes. He didn’t keep up with everything going on in the world. He wasn’t concerned about being at the top of his game. He just wanted a good stable homelife for himself, his wife, and his future family.
Nick and Natalie quickly got to business and had four wonderful kids, Michael, Jacob, Elizabeth, and little Nick Jr. They had to buy a bigger house in the suburbs and that was okay by them. There was now room for a pool out back and a ping pong table in the basement. Sure it was more expensive, but the business was doing well, and he could always save money other places. Anything to make his family happy was worth it. Yes he had gained more weight, and yes his hairline was receding, but he was happy. He had a good, steady middle class job, a good house in the suburbs, and a family who loved him. What could be better?!
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silver springs - carmy berzatto x fem!reader
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a/n: this is a part 2 for casual (read before continuing this for context). the live performance of this song changed my life tbh. as a little gift, a third and final part is in the works so stay tuneddd 👀
warnings: angst, slow burn, cameos from syd and richie (we love them in this household), mentions of claire (again, my apologies, ms. girl)
summary: after you found out that carmy had a girlfriend, claire. tension between you two grew intense as you rarely talked to him unless it involved work while he tried everything possible in order to talk you about what happened. it wasn’t until a former classmate of yours came in and asked you out while working, making him come to a sudden realization.
disclaimer: i do not own characters mentioned in this story. this is for fictional purposes only. do not copy or claim my work as your own. comments, reblogs and constructive feedback are appreciated!!
here are resources for supporting palestine and gaza 🇵🇸
masterlist
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you’ll never get away from the sound of the woman that loved you
ever since you found out that carmy was dating claire, the past three months felt as if it had been a year. the tension in the restaurant was so thick that you can slice through it with a knife. while carmy was trying everything to get you to speak to him, you did your best to avoid him except if it involved work. as much as you thought about putting in your two weeks, you simply couldn’t afford to.
you look into the mirror in your locker as you inspect your hair, being pinned back by a red claw clip. the hair accessory coordinated with the outfit you decided to wear today, which consists of a cropped red cardigan, black dress and doc martens. you reach for the makeup bag you keep so you can freshen up before your shift, unzipping it and pulling out a tube of clear mascara.
you twist the wand out of the tube and apply a layer of mascara on your upper eyelashes when syd walks in the locker room, just arriving for her shift. you both smiled at each other as you thanked god that it wasn’t carmy who walked through the door. she walked up to her locker next to yours, “hey, how did your night go?”
you shrugged as you applied a layer to your lower lashes, “not too bad, just watched a couple of episodes of sex and the city, took an edible then went to bed.” she laughed, “you seriously like that show?” she set her belongings in the locker as she left out her apron and head scarf, placing them both on the bench next to where you both stood.
you joked, “whenever anything goes wrong in my life, i do ask myself about what would carrie bradshaw do?” she rolled her eyes playfully as she laughed. she styled her hair with the scarf as you moved to putting on a soft pink lip liner over the outline of your lips. as syd put on her apron, she asked, “hey, can you tie the back for me?”
you nodded, setting your lip liner down and helping her tie the back strings of the apron in a comfortable, secure knot. as soon as you finished, carmy walked into the room, him and syd greeted each other while you and him made awkward eye contact but not saying anything to each other. syd sensed the unease in the room, deciding to go in the kitchen and see what they needed help with preparing for the day ahead.
this left you and carmy alone for the first time in a while. you felt his eyes on you as you continued putting on a light pink lipstick. he took off his jacket and placed in his locker as he finally decided to make another attempt at breaking the ice. “i think we need to talk.” you avoided him as if he was a ghost trying to make contact with a human.
he let out a sigh, growing more frustrated at the silent treatment you were giving him. he thought things between you both was supposed to be casual, no strings attached. while he understood why you were hurt, he also felt that he didn’t do anything wrong by not telling you about claire. he asked, “are you seriously going to ignore me?”
you pushed your bag back into the locker, slamming the door. the impact of the metal door made carmy startled, not being used to seeing you this angry. you snapped, “there is absolutely nothing we need to discuss.” as you try to walk out of the room, he gently grabs your wrist, turning you around to face him. “please, just talk to me.”
you groaned, “i don’t want to fucking talk to you, carm. just leave me alone.” you pulled out of his grasp and walked out of the room as he watched you leave. he felt this physical pain in his chest, sitting down on the bench as he ran his hand through his hair. he couldn’t help but wonder what went wrong and how could he make things right with you.
a couple of hours into your shift, the lunch rush was starting up as the restaurant was filled with people and you were on your feet, doing your best to keep with your section. you bring a drink to one of your tables, being one man who looked like they were in their early twenties. you placed his drink on the table and asked, “is there anything else you need?”
he shook his head and spoke, “no, i’m good. do you mind if i ask you a question though?” you politely nodded, “yeah, sure!” he continued, “this may sound a little weird but weren’t you in ms. klein’s homeroom?” you then remembered your freshman year homeroom teacher who had a whole wardrobe consisting of cat sweaters.
you nod, a bit confused at specificity of the question, “yeah i did actually..” you internally cringed at the person you were back then, wearing band merch and constantly straightening your hair to the point it was fried. he then explained, “i don’t know if you remember me but i’m dominic. i used to sit behind you.”
you suddenly remembered him, realizing you had a short lived crush on him until he moved schools after the first semester. you gasped, “oh my god, i thought you looked familiar! how’ve you been?” he had gotten a lot better looking than the last time you saw him, looking more taller and lean. his blonde hair was styled in a slightly disheveled wavy mullet and wore a white long sleeved shirt with blue jeans.
he grinned at you, his arctic blue eyes looking into your honey brown ones. “i’ve been good. i’m in town for a couple of days so i decided to explore what’s new here. enough about me though, how are you?” you smiled, feeling heat flush against your cheeks. “i’m doing good, life hasn’t been too bad.”
as you caught up with dominic, you began to realize why you had a crush on him in the first place. he was charming, make you blush as if you were a fifteen year old girl again. he admitted, “to be honest, i did like you but i never got the chance to tell you before i moved.” you laughed in disbelief, thinking it was a lie.
you shook your head, “that’s bullshit.” he insisted, “oh, it’s not bullshit. i regret not asking you out a lot sooner.”
carmy was on his smoke break outside the restaurant, he kept his eye on how you and dominic were interacting with each other. he felt himself growing more irritated at the sight of him making you laugh and smile. he broke up with claire a few weeks ago while he was locked inside the walk-in. he had feelings for her when he was in high school so of course, he thought it was something he wanted still but whenever he was with her, visions of you would cloud his mind.
you shrugged, “i mean.. i think you still have a chance.” dominic smirked, “oh really?” you nodded, “i definitely think so.” he replied, “well, we can go grab drinks after you get off work.. if you’re down.” you blinked, not knowing what to say. he was the first guy who asked you out since your situationship with carmy.
you made your choice on a whim, smiling at him. “i’m down.” he smiled back at you, “cool, can i get your number so i can text you where to meet at?”
he never viewed himself valuable to be loved by anyone, not by claire and especially not by you. his stomach churned and nausea set in when he looked over again, seeing you texting something onto dominic’s phone. he couldn’t bare to see the sight anymore, flicking the remains of his cigarette onto the ground.
he decided to walk around and enter through back of the restaurant, not wanting to see you. as he walked up to the back entrance, he sees richie, taking his own smoking break. “how’s your day going, cousin?” he shrugged, “i don’t know.. kinda shitty.” richie looked at him with concern but knew him well enough to know why he was upset.
he asked knowingly, “you’re thinking about her, aren’t you?” he sighed, “i broke up with claire weeks ago, man.” richie scoffed then responded, “i’m not talking about her, dipshit.��� he swallowed the lump in his throat as he knew his cousin was right. “some dude came in and he asked for her number..”
richie’s eyes widened slightly, “oh shit, did she give it to him?” he reluctantly nodded. richie winced, “damn, dude. what are you going to do about it?” he laughed sarcastically, “what do you want me to do? it’s not like she wants to talk to me.” richie sighed, “look, you really like her right?”
carmy nodded, “i think like is an understatement for how i feel about her.” his eyes widened as he never thought he would genuinely be in love with someone but was glad that the person he loves was you. he asked, “what if i’m too late to tell her? i don’t know what i’d do if i was..”
richie shook his head, “i don’t think you’re too late, cousin. if she was getting married or some shit, that’s different. you still have a chance… go make things right with her.” he questioned, “but what if she still doesn’t want to talk to me?” richie shrugged, “then at least you tried. that’s better than putting in no effort at all.”
carmy nodded, taking in everything that his cousin had said. he knew that he had to talk to you and attempt to make things right again. he took in a deep inhale then let the air exhale through his mouth. he looked over at his cousin and said, “thank you.” richie nodded, “no problem.. now, go get your girl back.”
as you got ready to go out with dominic, butterflies fluttered around in your stomach while you looked through your closet to find the perfect outfit. you threw your clothes around as you looked in the mirror, holding them in front of you seeing what looked good or not. you tossed them to the side as you didn’t like how you looked.
your hair was wrapped in a towel while you wore an oversized shirt with shorts underneath to lounge around in before actually getting dressed and ready for the night. you were interrupted when you heard an urgent knock on your front door. you checked your phone and see no texts from dominic that indicated that he was here when another knock on the door rang through the house.
you walked out of your room through the small living room area to the front door and reluctantly opened it. to your surprise, carmy was standing there. you rolled your eyes and sighed, “what do you want?” he looked and stared at you in awe, seeing you in the t-shirt he gave you.
he then blurted out, “i don’t want you to go with him.”
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