FAMILY MEN

❦ FAMILY MEN

ft. aizawa, hawks, bakugo, dabi

MASTERLIST

—aizawa

your daughter looked up at eri as she taught the younger girl how to style hair clips and accessories. your daughter was just over a year old, curious about things but not good with coordination, so eri enjoyed being the big sister and teaching her all about fashion. and who was the model for her cosmetology lessons? none other than your husband, shota. there was nothing his girls couldn’t get away with, so he sat patiently as he graded work on the floor as they tugged and pulled on his black locks. every once in a while there was a wince or grimace on his face because they weren’t that gentle, but he didn’t say anything. you silently laughed watching them from across the room, thinking that you couldn’t have chosen a better man.

—hawks

the habitual babbling of your little boy rang through the kitchen. you looked up at the clock because you knew your boyfriend would be coming home around this time. it seemed your son was starting to get a sense of time by figuring out when his dad came back everyday. and just as planned, the front door flew open, and a rush of red flew in front of you, straight to the highchair as keigo lifted your son. the air was instantly filled with giggles and kisses as the hero greeted his pride and joy. for a minute you were an afterthought, going back to your work until he gave you a few sweet kisses in greeting, son still in his arms.

“can we have a girl next?” he asked and you smiled at him sarcastically.

“can i have a ring?”

—bakugo

you heard him shouting from the other room.

“don’t put that in your mouth! give me that!”

your daughter babbled in the same tone right back at him. despite not knowing how to speak yet, she gave her dad the exact same amount of attitude that he dished out. you were curious and apprehensive to see when she grew up.

“don’t talk to me that way!”

“katsuki!” you called. “keep it down.”

your husband emerged from the room, holding a freshly changed daughter on his hip who was muching happily on a clean diaper.

“she started it.” he grumbled and you rolled your eyes at his beef with an eight month old. “anyway, i—ow, shit!”

your daughter had bit his shoulder, obviously preferring her dad over the diaper.

—dabi

“i’m home!” you called but got no reply. you kicked off your shoes and went searching for your boys, only to find them in your bedroom. both were napping on the bed, dabi curled his body around his son as if to protect him from the world. your little boy had one hand grasping his dad’s shirt tightly, the other grabbing at dabi’s mouth, some fingers having pulled his lip down a bit. your heart melted at the sight, and you immediately sighed. your instinct was to curl up with them and hold them, but you couldn’t bring yourself to disturb them so you just watched fondly for a couple minutes before dabi’s eyes naturally fluttered open. he blinked a bit before noticing you.

“if he doesn’t get his hand out of my mouth i’m burning him.”

“toya, no.”

do you think carmen has like a cutie little lock screen/homescreen or just the default ones that appear when you get the phone lol

he starts out with the default (like he does on the show) and then one day he notices you have him as your lockscreen and he’s like “oh that’s actually the best idea”. he takes a photo of you, maybe uses one he already has. wants a really really good one, a good memory so he thinks about it every time he turns on his phone.

it changes once every 2-5 years. once when you first start seriously dating (the first time mentioned above).

the second is a few months after you get anchovy- it’s you and him in a photo. i think it would be one where you’ve dressed him up and you’re showing carmen proudly, just beaming through the phone.

the third when you’re engaged. probably after buying the brownstone and it’s you and anchovy outside on the front steps, holding him to you, grinning widely with your ring showing.

then it’s with baby teddy. you hired someone to come to the house and take “life style photos” (“what does that mean?” “just us in our natural habitat, carm.” “…but why is that in our house?”). it’s you, carm, baby teddy, and anchovy lurking beside you. really the focus is on teddy, swaddled and new between the two of you. he’s like half cropped out in the picture on his phone bc he just wants to see you three. his favorite photo.

then it would probably stay that way until willow came along except it’s you, teeny tiny newborn willow, teddy, and anchovy asleep in the bed. teddy’s snuggled in one side, willow’s being held to your chest, and anchovy’s curled up on your lap. you hate the photo, think you look like a mess. “i think you look pretty” carmen mumbles, staring at the photo with such affection. he loves the rawness of it.

those are the big ones. every now and then something will come along and carmen will want to change it again, but it has to be really big bc he’s a little picky about it. he’s a bit of a diva when it comes to his lockscreens and changing them. he wants all his faves in there.

❦ A PIRATES REWARD

“you expected to fuck some guy in the bathroom at the halloween party, not get absolutely railed by someone you don’t even know”

cw: age gap, mask kink(?), choking, cream pie, unprotected sex, semi-public sex

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

When you're young and you finally get the taste of freedom that comes with showing your ID (the real one) to the bouncer, and instead of a stare down, you get a pleasant "enjoy your night", you tend to go overboard.

Dressed too skimpy for the weather, with the promise that alcohol will help you warm up, you and your girlfriends set your goals for the night. Get someone to buy you drinks, make it to the DJ booth, or hook up in the bathroom with someone you'll never see again.

A jaegerbomb or two, vodka soda, and whatever drink the guy next to you swore was worth it—you think it's a pornstar—and you were blinking with a drowsy smile on your painted lips as you looked around for someone of interest. Halloween was the perfect excuse to let loose and indulge in some wild, anonymous fun. As the night progressed, the music got louder and the crowd became more vibrant, making it the perfect hunting ground. With each drink, you felt a heat in your cheeks and between your legs that you wanted to indulge in.

"And what are you supposed to be?" You looked up at the man beside you.

From across the room, you noticed him in a black compression shirt, one that defined his obviously muscular arms and toned chest. He was tall, even from afar, dark hair that you could see pulled back into a bun, and a mask from a movie your tipsy mind barely recognized covering his face. He was mildly intriguing, and you admired him for a bit, but was only when he lifted it slightly to drink, showing off his sharp jawline and rough stubble, that you beelined for him.

You couldn't see his eyes looking down at you, but his deep, rumbling voice made you shiver. "A guy in a mask."

"Wow," you deadpanned with obvious sarcasm. "so creative."

He turned his head to you and leaned down a bit, and he asked, "Pirate?"

"Aye." You giggled with a curtsy, then nodded your chin at his drink. "What's that?"

"Rye and ginger," he held it out to you. "Want?"

You purposely brushed over the rings on his fingers as you took the drink. "You think I'd like it?"

"It’s a little hard, but sweet."

So you took a sip, eyes locked on his mask as you licked your lips to clean them off.

"I like the harder stuff," you said, and handed it back to him.

He lifted his mask to take a sip, unbothered by the lipstick smudge you left on the rim, then smiled slightly.

You decided that this was the guy. There's something about his nonchalant demeanour and the way he effortlessly hooked you in that had you wanting him in a less than innocent way. The fact that you didn't even know what he looked like only added to the excitement of wanting those gorgeous fingers inside you.

"Wanna take this somewhere else?" You cut him off from whatever he was saying, deciding you've done enough flirting.

"Well, aren't you an eager thing?" He chuckled a bit and took another sip of his drink.

You gulped, shamelessly checking him out as you started to feel the pulse of anticipation. When he finished off his rye and ginger you grabbed his wrist and led him through the crowd. Down the hall, there were a couple people loitering, probably trying to escape the loud music to have a more intimate conversation. The bathroom was even more deserted, and you thanked the fact that drunk people never wanted to leave the fun.

You immediately pushed him against the wall, not waiting for the door to close beside you, and your fingers clawed to his mask eagerly before his large hand wrapped around your throat to still you.

"Ah, ah, ah," he reprimanded you. "Didn't anyone teach you manners?"

You grinned, your lips instead going to his neck, where you playfully bit his skin. He let out a low growl, a mixture of pleasure and warning. His grip on your throat tightened slightly, this time not in caution, but as a reward.

"That's it, baby." He praised, and hooked his free thumb under the mask, pulling it off to reveal the most attractive man you've ever seen. Dark, tired eyes that looked at you with nothing but lust. He was obviously older than you, and the realization made you feel even more vigour at the thought of the pleasure he could give you that you never seemed to get from guys your age. His lips curled into a malicious smile, revealing a set of perfectly white teeth. The intensity in his gaze made your heart race, as if you were the only person in the world that mattered to him in that moment.

You audibly whimpered, the heat between your legs intensifying as you grabbed the back of his head and pulled him in for a kiss. Distantly, there was a soft donk as he threw his mask to the ground and grabbed you, switching places to pin you to the wall instead. The rush of adrenaline coursed through your veins, making you want to act out, but the firm grip he had on your throat had you compliant and submissive—only able to do what he wants. You had never been more happy to fall under the spell of some man, and you found yourself eager to accept anything he gave you. As the world around you faded into oblivion, all that remained was the intoxicating connection between your bodies and an insatiable desire.

Your leg hooked over his hip as you grinded into him, and he easily lifted you up, pressing his hard cock to your needy pussy through your clothes.

The noises of pleasure you made simply from making out and dry humping had him almost laughing.

"Such a cute little pirate." He growled and bit your ear. The hand around your neck moved to shove aside the fabric at your crotch and push two fingers inside you. "Already wet for me."

You squealed at the stretch, head hitting the tiled wall behind you as you threw it back.

"F-fuck." You whined and bucked your hips into him, too lost in the simple way he was giving you pleasure to care about how desperate you were being.

His skilled fingers continued to move inside you, hitting all the right spots and driving you wild. Even if it had just begun, no hookup had ever had you crumbling so easily, or had reduced you to a begging mess so skillfully. The intensity of the pleasure was overwhelming, causing your body to tremble uncontrollably as you surrendered completely to his touch, not bothering to hold back your cries.

Your legs started to shake, the pants you spilled out became high-pitched wanton sounds as you were about to cum; tears pricked at the corner of your eyes as your head knocked against the wall from you bucking into him. But before he could send you over into ecstasy, he pulled his fingers out, leaving you high, dry, and angry.

"What the fuc—!" You tried to scream, but he shoved his thick fingers down your throat. You choked instead as he laughed at you.

"Don't be a brat." He said. "Lick them clean, and I'll give you what you want."

You gagged as his fingers pressed against the back of your throat, feeling a mix of humiliation and arousal. Reluctantly, you obeyed his command, tasting your own essence on his fingers as you sniffled. The thought of finally getting what you desired pushed you to comply, hoping that this humiliating act would lead to the release you craved.

As he pulled his fingers out with a pop, you were rewarded with the sight of his hand undoing his pants and releasing his thick cock. The sight of his harsh pink tip dripping with precum made your heart race, fueling your craving for him even more and making you wiggle impatiently as he lined up with your cunt. With a deep breath, you braced yourself for the pleasure that awaited, ready to surrender completely to his dominance.

He didn't go slow. He thrusted into you with a force that took your breath away, causing a mixture of pleasure and pain to surge through your body.

The hand that gripped the fat of your thigh to hold you up tightened almost unbearably as he hissed.

"Fuck, you're so tight, little pirate." He said, and you whimpered a bit.

There was no more time to waste as he pulled out and thrust into you again.

You felt each unbearable inch of his cock bullying its way into your gummy walls and stretching you out passed your limits. No man had ever had you gasping from simply fucking you, but each powerful movement sent waves of ecstasy coursing through your body. As he continued to pound into you relentlessly, you surrendered yourself completely to the overwhelming sensations, losing all sense of control.

Your noises started to get even louder and more shameless, and you couldn't imagine anyone outside the bathroom wouldn't be able to tell what was going on, especially coupled with the slapping sounds of his cock in your dripping pussy over and over.

His hand came up to your neck again, holding you back against the wall and cutting your airflow as he pumped into you. Your moans became choked gargles, and the lack of oxygen had you squeezing impossibly tighter around him, your own hand gripping his wrist to stabilize yourself as your eyes rolled back and your tongue fell out.

"You just go dumb, baby?" You vaguely heard his condescending voice. "Such a good girl."

The intensity of the moment heightened as he continued to fuck you, his words fueling your desire for him to have his way with you. Each thrust and restriction of breath only deepened your submissive state, pushing you further into a state of blissful surrender that you never wanted to give up. As his grip tightened and his pace quickened, you could feel yourself on the edge of cumming like you never had before, ready to be consumed by the ecstasy he pumped you with.

"Such a good girl." He repeated. "Maybe I should cum in your cunt as a reward for being so good."

The sound of his words sent shivers down your spine, intensifying the pleasure coursing through your body. You eagerly nodded, unable to form any coherent words as you yearned for him to fulfill his promise. You wanted everything he could possibly give you, in that moment, you wanted him to become yours. You wanted him to give you this pleasure over and over again. With each powerful thrust, you could feel the knot tightening, knowing that this release would be better than any one you've ever experienced.

As he continued to ravish you, you came without warning. Head spilling all thoughts from your mind besides the inexplicably pleasure you were feeling and this unknown man that has made you feel something you’ve never felt before. Without a doubt, this would be ingrained in your mind forever, but if the thought of that wasn't enough, the feeling of his hot cum spilling into a second later you would be. It overflowed from your cunt, staining your thighs with hot cum as you held him close.

The smell of sex and the wetness dripping down your hot legs brought you back to reality, and you just barely registered him setting you down onto the ground. Your wobbly legs couldn't hold you as you fell against his sturdy chest, still not in the right stated of mind as you panted and almost drooled against him. The man chuckled as he moved the fabric of your costume back to cover your pussy and keep all of his cum inside you. You whined and twitched when he patted your clit.

Then he gently placed you on the ground, and you were too fucked up to speak up and say that you wanted him to stay and at least hold you until your mind returned. The most you could do was weakly tug on his pants and whine, causing him to bend down and place a chest kiss to your forehead. As he walked away, a mix of emotions flooded your mind: a longing for his presence, a sense of vulnerability, and a lingering satisfaction from everything he gave you.

nothing in the world belongs to me |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: still new in your relationship, you show up to the bear for dinner unexpectedly, surprising carmen and the others.

based off this prompt from the other day :)

contains: fluff lol. really, it's just fluff. established-ish relationship (the others don't know). carmen being a little nervous and possessive but mainly cute <3 language.

“Alright, listen up,” Richie stood next to Sydney, flicking through the piles of tickets that were ringing through by the second. It was normal now, an expected task in their routine. “We need to walk the focaccia to table seven, please.” 

“Yes, Chef!” A chorus of nearly robotic voices rose from the sizzling hiss of the lamb searing in Carmen’s pan, lifting the spatula to tip the meat over, before giving it back to the chef on the line. 

“And for table nine, we’ve got a shellfish allergy, alright? So let’s triple check the cross contamination on that. T, can you handle that one?” Richie moved from his leather bound book of notes back to the ticket. 

“Yes, Chef!” Tina chimed, pulling a freshly washed pan, filling it with the veal stock. 

“Table nine, is that- that’s the senator?” Carmen turned to Richie, tasting the roux bubbling on Victoria’s station, giving her a curt nod of approval. 

“No, that’s table eleven.” Richie hummed, looking back at his notebook. “Nine, is… a birthday. Booked online.” Carmen had already begun to drone him out, mind racing with a million other things as Richie listed the guests name. Until he got to one. 

The name Carmen was sure he was hallucinating. The name no one knew- How would they know? How could they possibly know your name? 

You and Carmen had been seeing each other for a little while. A few weeks that were slowly turning into months. A casual thing that was slowly turning more serious. Dates and meetups are becoming more frequent. You’d even invited him over to your place a few times, he’d spent the night last week. 

Still, Carmen hadn’t managed to tell anyone. Selfishly, he liked that you were all his for now. Privacy was not guaranteed in the Berzatto house, in Carmen’s life still. He knew they meant well, they always did- he knew it wasn’t purposeful, the intrusion that almost always led to a demise. Carmen wasn’t ready for it, not yet, he still wanted you all to himself. 

“Carmen?” Sydney’s voice pulled him out of his panicked trance. “Chef, are you- are you good?” Her voice lilted with that familiar suspicious quip, the one always accompanied with her lifted brows. 

“What?” Carmen blinked, hands buzzing, heart thumping. He could see the window, Richie’s frame blocking most of it. “Sorry, yeah- yeah, I’m good, Chef.” 

Sydney watched him carefully, a slow nod before she continued calling out orders. Carmen could feel Richie’s eyes on him, narrowed with curiosity. Carmen tried to be nonchalant, crossing the kitchen back towards Tina, his eyes cutting carefully, looking out the window. 

There you were. 

Sitting pretty at the middle table, surrounded by friends, some Carmen recognized from your Instagram. He’d actually logged in to the app, looked you up after the first date, consumed every photo of yours in the dark of his room. Cheeks burning with excited heat, stomach fluttering in a way he hadn’t felt since junior high. 

“Alright, walk five salads to nine.” Sydney called out. “Where’s our runners? God, Richie, can you run-” 

“-I got it.” Carmen called, the urgency in his tone making Tina jump behind him. Carmen took the tray before Gary could, his hands shaking as he lifted it. 

“Cousin, I can get it.” Richie frowned. 

“No, I-I got it.” Carmen nodded, swallowing down his fluttering nerves. His eyes cut to your table through the window, heart skipping when he saw you. “I got it. I’ll be- I’ll just be a second.” 

“I don’t- I can’t even handle that one right now.” Sydney sighed in exasperation. “Alright, Chefs. Let’s get back on track.” She announced, shaking her head. Richie frowned, pulling out his phone. 

Sugar’s cell buzzed against the hostess stand, excusing herself to check it. 

From: Richie 

‘Look at table nine.’ 

Sugar huffed. 

To: Richie 

‘Why? Is there something wrong?’ 

She stepped back, casually turning to scan the room, eyes landing on the table. A small group of girls, younger, and amongst them- Carmen? 

To: Richie 

‘Is something wrong with the food? Do I need to comp it?’ 

From: Richie 

‘No. Cousin wanted to go out there.’ 

Sugar frowned, angling her body behind the large plant near the front as casually as she could. She watched through the leaves as Carmen passed out the salads, each girl grinning widely, but their eyes always cut to one on the end. 

Carmen saved your salad for last, hoping the lowlights of the restaurant would hide his boyish blush, setting the bowl in front of you carefully. “Hey,” 

“Hi,” You smiled sheepishly, looking to meet his gaze. “Everything looks so good.” 

“Yeah? Thanks.” Carmen nodded. “I-I didn’t know you were comin’ tonight.” 

“I’m sorry.” You cringed softly, embarrassed heat flooding through your veins. You knew better, knew you shouldn’t have done this- showed up at his restaurant unannounced. 

“I, uh, it’s my friend’s birthday.” You nodded towards Alicia at the end of the table. “And I was telling them about that pasta you made me, and they really wanted to come try it.” Your nerves bubbled, rambling in nervous peals that seemed to pour out before you could stop them.  

“Yeah, no, that’s really nice. Thank you.” Carmen nodded, giving a half smile to your friends, hoping they didn’t see the way he wiped his clammy hands on his apron. “Why didn’t- Why didn’t you just call me? Tell me you were comin’ in.” 

“I didn’t want to bother you.” You muttered softly. “I honestly didn’t think you’d even see us here, I swear. I didn’t mean to bother you or anything-” 

“-You’re not bothering me.” Carmen’s voice dropped to a coo, accompanied with a soft smile that had your head spinning. “Never a bother, but, uh, next time? Bother me, ok? Wanna make sure you get the best seat in the house.” 

Your cheeks flushed with heat, your friends excited giggles only intensifying the rushing heat blanketing over your body. Carmen’s own cheeks heated, tongue rolling on the inside of his cheek to hide his grin. 

“Alright?” Carmen added, and in a complete act of shocking boldness, his hand squeezed your shoulder affectionately. A small gesture on the outside, but for Carmen, it was huge. 

“Alright.” You grinned, leaning into his touch, your hands sliding over his. 

“How’s everything so far?” Carmen turned to the table, nodding at the excited gushes of compliments, not missing the way your friends cut their eyes to you with animated glee. 

“Just let me know if you need anything, ok?” Carmen turned to you.

“I will.” You nodded, starry eyed with love sick affection. 

“Good. I’ll see you before you leave, alright?” Carmen muttered, ducking down towards you. His lips brushed over your cheek, your perfume clouding his senses. “You’re not botherin’ me. ‘M glad you’re here.” 

Your cheek pressed to his, a gentle, affectionate rub before Carmen parted. Both of your features painted with shy delight. 

Carmen could feel everyone’s eyes, through flickering gazes and lifted brows. Sydney’s gaze lingering over him skeptically, still counting tickets. Fak’s wide grin from the corner, loading trays to take out. 

“Hey, uh, Marcus.” Carmen ignored Richie’s raised brows, a teasing, questioning remark on the tip of his tongue. 

“Yes, Chef?” Marcus muttered, looking up from the cannolis he was garnishing. 

“Table nine has a birthday. I was thinkin’ maybe the chocolate ganache, punch it with the little circle to make it look like a cake. Add a candle?” Carmen muttered, hand rubbing across his face. 

“Yeah, Chef, I can do that.” Marcus nodded. 

“Thank you.” Carmen nodded. “And Chef? Let me know when it’s ready before you walk it.” 

Marcus frowned. “No, it’s not- I just wanna walk it, ok?” Carmen shook his head. 

“Alright.” Marcus nodded slowly. “Heard, Chef.” 

Richie smirked, leaning against the stainless steel table. “So,” Richie hummed. “There a complaint or somethin’? Need me to go talk to ‘em-” 

“-No,” Carmen snapped, the possessiveness in his tone startling the both of them. “Sorry, it’s- No, I-I don’t need you to do that, Chef. Everything’s good.” 

Richie nodded slowly, passing the dishes to Gary with a nod. “You gonna tell me what that was about?” 

“No, Chef.” Carmen clipped, an edge to his tone that was teetering on annoyed. “But, uh, there’s not gonna be a check on table nine.” 

“What?” Richie frowned. “Did you mess somethin’ up? Seriously, Cousin, if something's wrong it’s my job to know-” 

“-No, it’s not-.” Carmen huffed, eyes pinching closed, running a hand over his face in frustration. “Look, that’s… The girl on the end? I-I’ve been kinda seein’ her, ya know?” He muttered. 

Richie gawked, blinking in disbelief. “No shit.” He grinned. “No shit? You-You’re serious?” He turned to look out the window. 

“Don’t fuckin’ look.” Carmen hissed. “Look, it-it’s not a big deal, alright? Just don’t-don’t say anything o-or do anything.” 

Richie swallowed back a teasing remark, a reactive reaction from years of being with Mikey. How the two of them used to tease Carmen endlessly, until they were fighting on the front lawn, Mikey howling with laughter while Carmen was red faced with mortified anger. 

This time, Richie held back. He wasn’t sure why, call it divine intervention, a gut feeling maybe, but it felt different this time. 

“Alright.” Richie nodded slowly. “No ticket for nine. Heard.” 

Carmen’s foot tapped anxiously. “I mean, right? Th-That’s what I should do right?” Carmen looked over his shoulder out the window. “That would be shitty to give her a check? Be a complete jagoff move to charge her?” 

“Yeah,” Richie scoffed lightly. “Jagoff of the fuckin’ year. Makin’ your girl pay to come to your place.” 

Carmen’s heart swelled at the term- your girl. His girl. You were his girl. 

“Walk four Pappardelle to nine. Walk one Pappardelle vegetarian style to nine.” Sydney called. 

Carmen dipped the spoon in the glaze, garnishing the plate before sliding it towards Sydney. “So, you gonna take these out?” He muttered. 

“No,” Carmen huffed. “Gonna wait until the cake.” 

“Yeah, good idea, Cousin.” Richie nodded with a proud smile. “That when you’re gonna tell them no check tonight?” 

“No,” Carmen shook his head. “I don’t- It would feel weird comin’ from me.” He looked up at Richie. “I was gonna let you do it.” 

“Yeah, I can handle that.” Richie smirked. “And I won’t say anything, Cousin.” He stopped Carmen before he could say it. “I got you, Cousin. I won’t fuck it up, alright?” 

Carmen nodded slowly, a strangled thank you on the tip of his tongue. The door swung open behind Richie, and for a second, Carmen caught a glimpse of you. Smiling and laughing, leaned in over the table, no doubt giggling with your friends about him. Carmen’s heart squeezed, but this time, without fear. No, there was no dooming fear that you were mocking him, making fun of him. This time, he felt the content rush of adrenaline filled love. A change in his routine, yes. Unexpected, sure, but he was glad for it. Glad that you were there- here, with him.

caramen apples |dad!carmen berzatto x mom!reader|

the first entry in thebearer's ber months :)

“Teddy- hey, two feet down. Stop rocking on the chair, Dorothea, I am not telling you again” 

“Daddy! I’m just kidding.” 

“Yeah? Stop before you hurt yourself or your sister, please.” 

“I won’t hurt, Daddy, I do it all the time.” 

“Daddy, can we tastes it?” 

“No, Wills, not yet. It’s still hot, baby. And no you don’t, Teddy. Stand still or I’m putting you on the ground.” 

“When will it be ready-” 

“-Yes, I do! Mommy lets me all the time, Daddy!” 

You bite back a laugh, tucked behind the wall of the kitchen. A four year old, a seven year old, and caramel apples? It sounded exactly what you expected- chaotic. 

“Mommy does not.” You chimed in before Carmen, a brow raise that was entirely motherly. It had Carmen smirking, stirring the pan on the stove, while Teddy turned with a gasp. 

“You sneaked!” Teddy pointed at you, a devious little smile that told you she’d been caught. You knew it entirely too well. 

“Mommy! Look! We make apples!” Willow pointed excitedly at the prepped apples on skewers in front of her. 

“Are you?” You grin back, voice rising in exaggerated excitement. You wrapped your arm around her and Teddy’s backs, steadying them on the chairs Carmen had pulled up for them to help “cook”. 

“It looks so yummy.” You hum, eyes catching Carmen’s. “Can I have one?”

“I guess.” Teddy sighed dramatically. She’d been hanging out with Richie too much. 

Carmen snorted lightly, shaking his head. “Alright, I’m gonna help you dip the apples, ok? Don’t touch the caramel. It’s gonna be really hot, alright? Got me?” 

“Got it.” Teddy and Willow hummed in unison, Teddy peeking over the counter towards the hot pan. 

“I wanna go first.” Teddy said firmly, looking at Carmen. 

“Wills, you good with that?” Carmen asked, looking at his youngest. 

“Teddy can go firwst.” Willow lisped, still struggling with her r’s. Your heart melted, pulling her closer to yourself lightly, pressing a kiss to the crown of her hair. 

Carmen smiled, picking up the first apple, helping Teddy hold it while he adjusted the pan. “Ok, now turn it slowly- yeah, just like that, Teddy. Good job.” Carmen beamed, cringing a little at the lopsidedness of the dip. 

“Look!” Teddy grinned, pulling it back, a glob of caramel falling on the counter with her. “I did it!” 

“You did!” You beamed, a wide smile that had her laughing proudly. “Put it on the sheet, ok?” 

“Look, Willow, I dipped it.” Teddy ignored you, turning to her sister. She lifted the apple high, and for a second, you thought she might put it in her sister’s hair. Instead, Teddy, set it proudly on the counter- not on the paper, making Carmen hiss with a cringe when she did it. 

Your eyes cut to his, lifting a brow. “You’re cleaning this up?” 

“Of course, honey.” Carmen muttered. “You might need to clean them, though.” He nodded towards Teddy, grabbing the glob of caramel that fell and eating it off her fingers, before smacking them together and laughing with Willow at how the caramel strung like webs between them. 

“Teddy, hey, are you supposed to do that?” You glared at her sternly. 

“Yes.” Teddy grinned, deviously. That little shit, you thought, lips twisting together to hide your smile. She was so funny sometimes, it was hard not to laugh at her. “Jus’ eating it.” She shrugged, giggling with her sister. 

“Hey, don’t touch your hair, alright?” Carmen nudged Teddy’s hands down lightly. “Go put your toppings on. Willow c’mere, it’s your turn.” 

“What do you want on yours, Teddy Bear?” You asked, sliding Teddy over and pulling out the jars of toppings Carmen had prepared- M&Ms, nuts, granola. 

“I want M&Ms.” Teddy chirped, reaching her hand into the little cup, squealing with laughter when they stuck to her already sticky fingers. “Willow, look!” 

Willow turned, nearly dropping the apple into the hot pot of caramel, Carmen’s eyes widening when he caught it. “Hey, be careful.” Carmen said, his voice hard but calmer. 

“Sowwy.” Willow’s eyes rounded softly, melting him entirely when they met his own. 

“I think that’s enough M&Ms.” You laughed, stopping Teddy as she dunked the apple and her hands into the candy. “Save some for Willow, and me.” 

“I want nuts.” Willow hummed, delicately scooping and sprinkling them on to her apple, so careful and precise- just like Carmen. You told him she was watching him, sometimes he didn’t believe you, until he’d see it for himself. 

You grabbed a cloth, wiping Teddy’s hands as best as you could, wiping her face down gently. Carmen dipped both of yours, placing it in front of you. “You want nuts too?” Carmen asked. 

You blushed. Of course he remembered. From years ago, before the babies, before the marriage, when Carmen still lived in his shitty little apartment with jackets inside the stove and barely any room to move. Carmen had taken you to an orchard, picked apples and pumpkins because it made you happy and that made him happy. He’d made candy apples, caramel apples, even cider donuts in that tiny apartment. You sat on the counter, dipping yours in chopped peanuts, sharing sticky kisses between bites.

“Yeah.” You hummed, hand snaking around his waist, giving his hip a loving squeeze. “M&Ms too.”

teddy being so cute one day, and it’s one of those really good days where you’re like “i can’t believe you were screaming your head off after i moved you away from the oven last night”

she's a little sour patch kid. she'll be so fucking sweet and then a terror in an instant. one day she's just so content and perfect, and then the next everything's wrong.

carmen always invites you to family, especially when he's working late. you told him today that you'd see since teddy was so bad last night, screaming and crying and throwing fits every five seconds. so he's surprised to see you walking back into the kitchen.

"hey," carmen's face lights up, reaching his hands out to grab teddy, who squeals and bounces with excitement. "i didn't know you were comin'."

"yeah, we decided to come see you." you grin, running a hand over teddy's hair. "she's been better today."

"has she?" carmen presses a kiss to her baby fat cheek. "are you feelin' better today? happy girl today?" she screeches when he tickles her.

tina turns the corner excitedly, gasping and waving at baby teddy. "chef, you didn't tell me the critic was comin' tonight." tina teases.

carmen rolls his eyes lightly. last week, carmen had tried to feed teddy a new puree, so excited now that she could eat more solid foods, only for her to scrunch her face up, spit it out, and bawl loudly. richie had laughed so hard he was crying, nearly falling over and out of his chair.