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wileys-russo · 8 months

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late night visits II k.mccabe x reader

i think this is the longest fic i've written so far but as she deserves, katie is so lover girl coded and no one can convince me otherwise

late night visits II k.mccabe x reader 7.3K words

"katie!" the irishwoman glanced up with a squint, standing taller to try and see over the crowd of drunken bodies packing the bar. finally she spotted her friends jammed into a booth toward the back and pushed her way through toward them.

"jesus is there like a two for one special on drinks tonight or what?" katie huffed as she took the vacant seat beside leah, looking around at the hordes of patrons around them. the little restaurant and bar was hardly unknown, however it rarely got this busy.

"guess our little secret isn't so secret anymore." jen chuckled, sliding katie a rum and coke she'd ordered her earlier as the irishwoman sent her a grateful smile before necking it. "slow down katie! it's not a race." beth laughed with a shake of her head as the irishwoman grinned.

"almost every bar in manchester was like this it took like a half an hour to even be served!" alessia piped up, seated beside leah and across from jen. the small group of girls deciding at training earlier today they'd go out for a drink tonight since there wasn't a match this weekend.

the invitation had been extended to the whole team but a lot had plans to go and see partners or family in the short few days break.

"oh we don't have that issue here, do we katie?" jen teased with a smirk as the girl in question rolled her eyes. "i don't even know if she's workin jen, lay off!" she defended. :please like you haven't memorised her schedule by now." leah joined in with a chuckle.

"i feel like im missing some context here?" alessia piped up with a confused frown, not quite following along with the light hearted teasing.

"katies sleeping with one of the bar tenders." beth eagerly filled the younger blonde in as viv smacked her on the shoulder with a look of disapproval. "are you?" alessias curious gaze turned to katie who groaned.

"sometimes. it doesn't matter anyway its none of any of your businesses!" the brunette warned sternly, sending a particularly harsh look toward laura who couldn't seem to stop herself from laughing at the situation.

"wonderful. you can get the next round then!" leah grinned and gave her a shove almost sending the girl flying onto her ass out of the booth as katie shot leah a glare but nonetheless stood to her feet.

"russo you're coming with me, i need extra hands and you're the least annoying one present tonight." katie gestured toward the girl who scrambled quickly over leah.

"thank you…i think?" alessia frowned as katie slung an arm over her shoulder, tugging her away from the group who resumed their chatter. "so is she here?" the blonde asked looking around eagerly as they finally got to the bar.

"that one." katie gave in with a sigh, nudging alessia and pointing you out where you were busy making cocktails at the other end of the bar. "she's gorgeous." alessia stated with a nod of approval as katie couldn't help but chuckle, small talk made between the two as they waited for someone to come take their order.

someone who katie secretly hoped was you.

meanwhile you joked around around with a few regulars, making sure to maintain the bright smile on your face despite how much harder you were needing to work tonight, the growing frustration inside you that as per usual your boss had understaffed for a busy night to save money.

"well well, i thought i heard security talking about trouble brewing." you greeted the familiar irishwoman with a grin as you wiped your damp hands on your apron, katies own face curling into a smug smile as she shamelessly checked you out.

admittedly the brunette was somewhat of a weak spot for you, there was just something about her cheeky grin which oozed confidence, paired with that strong accent and effortless charm she made your knees buckle.

you wound up a messy of sweaty limbs tangled in one another's bedsheets far more often than you'd care to admit, reaching out to one another at all sorts of hours with all sorts of excuses for your late night visits.

it should have been a seemingly easy relationship, you used one another for whatever was needed without really holding any responsibilities for how the other felt.

the first time you'd slept together was a few months ago and you'd both agreed it was just a one time thing. merely a drunken fling as you and katie had shared a few drinks once you'd clocked off for the night, which inevitably ended in your sweaty bodies pressed up together in her bed a couple of hours later.

yet months later and here she still was, looking you up and down with a hungry glint in her eyes probably imagining the lustful activities she hoped would be happening later on.

there was just one small problem to all of this, which was that you secretly wanted more. you wanted her in a way where it didn't feel transactional, where you weren't just a late night thought but rather could be someone meaningful to her.

but you knew that wasn't on the cards for katie and so you'd convinced yourself into a firm state of delusion where it didn't hurt to continue on like nothing had changed and you didn't secretly hope for more.

your friends had begged you end it, seeing how much it knocked your normally confident persona down, playing on your self esteem and picking at insecurities you didn't even know were there as you couldn't help but wonder why she only wanted to keep it casual if it was such a seemingly common occurence.

you couldn't quite say when things had started to shift,. as at first you were more than satisfied with just being friends with benefits, barely meeting the friends part since you hardly knew anything about one another.

maybe that's what had made it easier in the early stages, that lack of knowledge and impersonal connection. you didn't know anything about football nor did you care to change that, so of course to you she was just a girl, not some big celebrity superstar athlete.

thats not to say she didn't show her athletic prowess in other ways, the irishwoman had the best stamina you'd ever seen and could go for hours without even needing a water break.

and when the relationship was only transactional, impersonal and occasional, you were fine with it.

but lately, lately things had been different. and it had all started a couple of weeks ago.

once the two of you had finished for the night, katie had stuck around. she begun to ask questions, about you, your work, your family, and to your shock seemed actually interested in the answers.

she hadn't stayed the night, only for a couple of hours and a cup of tea but it was out of the ordinary behavior from your usual arrangement. though you'd tried not to dwell on it too much, knowing that overthinking it was dangerous.

but then it had happened again the next time, and again the time after that. katie once more asking you question after question, and if she wasn't doing that she was telling you the more intimate details of her life and her family, or debriefing about a particularly hard training session or her concerns for an upcoming match.

without even realising it she'd kicked down your walls and she'd done the worst possible thing in a friends with benefits situation, she'd begun to accidentally indulge you into what it could be like if the two of you were more.

"we're completely out of bacardi and we're running low on jager." nathan, one of your coworkers, popped up beside you as you bent down to grab a cider for a customer from the fridges under the bar.

now counting down until the end of your shift, you were endlessly grateful you weren't on close tonight. though things had begun to die down, the more rowdier of patrons beginning to be moved on by security, you knew there would be some that lingered long into the night.

"there's more downstairs, i'll go stock up before i finish so you don't need to worry about it. can you handle this for awhile?" you offered, the boy sighing in relief and nodding with an appreciative smile.

you untied your apron and tossed it under the counter, jumping over the small gate at the end of the bar and ducking around the corner where only staff were allowed.

busying yourself quickly checking your phone you hadn't noticed someone follow, someone whose eyes had been trained to you most of the night, who'd been relentlessly teased by her friends for exactly that.

"scuse me but has anyone ever told you your bum looks quite peachy in those shorts?" your eyes flickered up from your screen as the brunette grinned cheekily, taking a few steps toward you as you shook your head and slipped your phone into your pocket.

"just drunken creeps who i've had kicked out right afterwards." you smiled, katies hands finding their way to your hips as she gently pressed you into the wall, blue eyes twinkling mischievously.

"send them my way next time, i'll be sure to teach em some manners about how to treat a pretty girl." katies smile widened as her eyes flickered down toward your lips.

"i'm still on the clock here mccabe." you chuckled, pushing her off gently as you knew what would happen next if you didn't. "well then when do you get off?" she asked, pressing her body back into yours as you shook your head.

"in an hour." you revealed watching her lips curl into a smirk. "then i'll meet you out back by your car." the older girl spoke suggestively, face so close to yours you could feel the warm tickle of her breath against your lips but then just like that she was gone, striding off back into the public area seeking out her friends.

with a sigh and a shake of your head you straightened up, banishing the lust which clouded your mind and hurrying off downstairs to the dry store.

of course katie wound up in your bed that night, a chorus of moans of plesure and lips smacking together in sloppy kisses, crisp linen gripped in white knuckled fists with sweaty limbs tangled.

this was then once again followed by a cup of tea and soft conversations about your childhood pets, quite the contrast from your previous activites.

then things only became stranger that next morning.

sundays were always your day off so you'd never have alarms set, allowing your body to wake you up whenever it was ready, purposefully never setting up any plans or commitments you needed to arise early for.

so when your eyes fluttered open around eleven in the morning, your room still quite dark due to an overcast and cloudy day, nothing seemed out of sorts.

it wasn't until you shifted tiredly that you felt someone move beside you. your body was instantly jolted awake, and that's when you became aware of the warm arm draped lazily over your naked midsection, an arm that was not yours.

with a sharp intake of breath you slowly turned your head to the side, seeing a mop of brunette hair sprawled across the pillows, duvet only partially covering her half naked form, tanned back moving up and down as she slept soundly with her face smushed into the mattress, and your eyes widened at the sudden realisation that katie had slept over.

she never slept over, even spending a few hours chatting your ear off with a cup of tea she'd never stayed afterwards. you weren't sure if she could hear but your hate rate began to thunder in your ears, thumping like horses hooves against a track as your cheeks flushed scarlet red.

"i can feel your eyes burning a hole into the side of my head ya know." the irishwoman finally spoke, accent somehow thicker in her half awake state as she gently pushed herself up and flopped onto her side with a tired sigh.

your skin burned where her arm had been as she retracted it, running a hand through her hair and flicking it to one side of her head, blinking tiredly with a stretch as your eyes did their best not to fall directly down to her bare chest.

"you can look you know, certainly did last night." she grinned, immediately noticing your internal struggle as her own blue eyes shamelessly roamed your naked body with a hungry glint before you tucked yourself more into the duvet making her chuckle.

"you stayed over." was all you could manage to spit out, raising an eyebrow in surprise. "with observations like that you could give up bar tending for some detective work." katie smiled teasingly as you rolled over and grabbed your top off the floor.

slipping it over your head to somewhat cover up you tossed katie's at hers, the material smacking her in the face as you sat up, snatching your underwear off the floor and wiggling quickly into it.

"you've never stayed over." you made your point a little firmer, slipping out of the bed as katie now sat up, tugging her own shirt on.

"well we were talking in bed and i guess we both fell asleep." the irishwoman shrugged casually, grabbing her suit pants off the floor and slipping into them, buttoning them as she stood. you only hummed not really believing her as the action was so out of character, but you were too tired to argue as you tied your hair up into a messy bun.

"you should come to the game today, there's still tickets." katie spoke up again, sat on the end of the bed as she laced up her shoes. you choking on your own spit at the shock from her statement, the girl glancing over her shoulder with an amused smile before turning back round, not mentioning anything more than that.

you walked her to the front door wordlessly, cogs going into overdrive in your mind, almost in shock katie couldn't hear how loud your overthinking was right now.

"catch you later maybe kid." katie winked charmingly, pressing a kiss to your cheek and stepping out the front door. striding down your driveway without a single look back she slipped into an uber as you touched your cheek and slowly closed your front door.

oh you were down bad, and maybe it was time you started dealing with it.

and that exact thought was how you found yourself huddled among a small group of your friends, rain drizzling down on your head and body tucked into itself trying to utilise your body heat to warm up.

your friend mathew was doing his very best to keep you interested, explaining every little rule and tactic that he could as the match dragged on, desperate to try and up your enthusiasm of what was apparently a fantastic game being played.

the poor boy raised a die hard arsenal fan was over the moon when you'd loosely mentioned attending as the two of you caught up for brunch. within five minutes he'd somehow conjured you up a ticket, forced you into a jersey, talked your ear off the entire car ride and here you were.

you'd chosen not to mention that the girl you were so hung up who was in your bed at least twice a week nowadays was the katie mccabe, you'd not told any of your friends her actual name only referring to her as 'bar girl', and so the only ones who could have put two and two together were maybe your coworkers.

though all of you were generally so run off your feet most nights they hardly batted an eyelid into your personal life, too focused on making it home to their own beds rather than being hung up on who was sneaking into yours.

"oh they're doing a lap! come on i wanna get my shirt signed by viv if i can she's one of the only ones im missing." mathew eagerly grabbed your hand, practically yanking you out of your chair and away from the rest of your friends who you hastily waved goodbye to.

"you know if i just gave you my jersey one time-" "no matty, the answer will always be a no." you chuckled, despite not knowing of your late night visitors identity the boy did know the arsenal girls frequented your workplace, and he was forever pestering you about having them sign something

you'd held firm with a no, and would continue to.

one of the main reasons the girls continued to come back was that you all made sure to treat them like actual people, and despite being more than household names your regulars tended to leave them be most of the time as well, most of the time.

you hung by yourself away from the main crowd eagerly chatting to the players, leaning against the barrier and busying yourself organizing to cover a few vacant shifts next week.

trying to save to upgrade your car you would take any extra money you could get at the moment, now only a few thousand away from your goal.

"want me to sign that for ya?" your head lifted at the familiar accent, meeting her mischievous blue eyes as she gave you an alluringly cheeky smile.

"no thanks i'm waiting for a starter, not a bench warmer." you quipped back, slipping your phone into your pocket as katie feigned offence.

"how about a goal scorer then?" the brunette moved a little closer, leaning on the barrier with her hands as your eyes drifted down to her well toned arms before flickering back upwards, which didn't go unnoticed by the irishwoman.

"oh did you score? didn't see." you brushed it off with a shrug, katie opening her mouth to speak but falling silent as mathew appeared back by your side, slinging an arm over your shoulder.

at the sight katies stomach flipped a little and her jaw clenched, she watched the boys mouth move, words clearly directed toward her as she only hummed and sent him a polite smile, barely listening.

"well well well, look who it is. our favourite bartender!" the brunette snapped back out of it as jen appeared by her side with a smirk, closely followed by beth. "i thought you weren't a football fan." beth teased, and katie watched as you gestured to the boy beside you, blaming him for your attendance.

you picked up on katies lack of joining into the conversation, trying to catch her attention again but eventually having to excuse yourself and mathew as you had dinner plans. "oo a hot date is it?" beth teased, shooting katie a subtle side eye, the blonde also picking up on her lack of effort to join in.

"every sunday! she loves me for my roast dinners." mathew grinned, pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek as you gagged sarcastically and pushed his face away.

"see you round then." you smiled, directing the comment more toward katie than anyone else, frowning a little as she blanked you and walked off without so much as a glance your way.

you didn't see or hear from katie for the next few days, which wasn't all that abnormal seeing as since the two of you were just casually sleeping around you hardly had a regular routine of meet ups.

however when you did finally see her again it wasn't under circumstances you expected.

you were covering the closing shift for nathan tonight as it was his 30th birthday. the seemingly quiet Wednesday not one of your normal rostered days it seemed to be a running joke among the regulars present.

yet no matter how many times you heard the same one liner you still faked a laugh and a grin, watching the tip jar fill up gradually as you did so with a satisfied smile.

given it wasn't all that busy you found yourself people watching in the odd pockets of free time which fell your way, a habit which was easily one of your favorite perks of the job. yourself and your coworkers often busied yourself dreaming up extravagant imaginary lives for the drunken strangers occupying the bar.

but that was how you spotted her, tucked away in a table toward the back and not by herself, an unfamilar blonde sat beside her and the two seemed quite cosy. you watched with a frown as katie mucked about with the blonde, kissing her on the cheek as the girl shoved her away with a grin.

you couldn't but feel as though you'd been punched in the stomach as you wrenched your eyes away, plastering a fake smile on your face and hurrying off to serve a patron.

thankfully you managed to avoid interacting with the irishwoman for the most part, katie too busy entertaining her date as the blonde came up a few times to grab them both drinks, and by some miracle she'd been served by someone else each time.

though of course that luck didn't last.

as the bar began to empty you busied yourself starting to pack down and clean glasses. but you watched on hopelessly as katie made her way over and with your coworker for the night already occupied with other patrons you knew you'd have no way of avoiding her.

"hey." was all the brunette said with a smile that you returned, handing her a rum and a coke like she always ordered and waiting for if she wanted anything else. "oh nah just a water for me i'm drivin, and a glass of house red please." you nodded and wordlessly prepared her drinks.

"just 8.40." you placed the eftpos machine up on the counter as katie tapped her card and hearing the beep you turned back to what you were doing. "hey, can i see you later?" you glanced up realizing she hadn't left yet, lingering at the counter with her drinks in hand and a hopeful look in her eyes.

"i'm on close tonight." you shook your head and katie frowned, unsure why you seemed so upset with her. "i just wanted to-" the brunette started but you cut her off with a scoff, in disbelief she was really trying to come onto you while out with another woman.

casual or not you had higher standards for yourself than that, and maybe your friends were right and it was time you started to treat yourself with a little more kindness.

"i'm working katie, just leave me alone." and with that you ducked out back before the irishwoman could even say another word, stunned at the somewhat aggressive tone which still lingered in the air after your abrupt exit.

since the frosty encounter katie had tried to call and message you but with no response and left on read she'd taken the hint and had backed off.

she'd still been around with her team mates over the weekend for dinner in the restaurant but didn't dare come to order a drink at the bar since you were on shift.

most of the girls gave up questioning her about what had happened, noticing that something had shifted between the two of you, and with a stern warning from the irishwoman hadn't dared to ask you about it either.

but ever persistent and hating to see the obvious discontent hidden behind her friends eyes that the others missed, leah continued to press her for an answer.

"oh for fuck sakes cause she's got a boyfriend leah!" katie eventually snapped and gave in as the blonde had once more cornered her for an interrogation. "what! are you sure? since when?" leah frowned, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the wall.

"i dunno! i met him at that game she came to, he's not even a good lookin fella." katie huffed with a roll of her eyes, sitting down at her locker and beginning to take off her boots. "i thought that she seemed quite into you?" leah sat down beside her as katie sighed deeply.

"i don't know i thought she was. we'd been talking a lot, getting to know each other better, it was starting to feel like more but i guess not. ever since i met him she's been blankin me so i guess whatever it was with us is over now." katie shrugged it off, not wanting to dwell on the subject as she brushed leah off to go for a shower.

"and please don't tell anyone leah!"

and leah tried not to, she really did. but when beth continued to pester katie and she could see the annoyance building, she figured she would be doing the girl a favour by filling the girl in.

"wait that was her boyfriend? i was only joking about the date thing." beth frowned, both girls having filled the other in over a coffee. "did they seem like they were? katie said she's ghosted her ever since so i guess it makes sense?" leahs eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

little did they both know just how wrong they were.

"oh! thats him, thats the boyfriend." beths eyes widened as she gripped leahs bicep, yanking her around to look where she pointed, mathew hanging around chatting to a few of their team mates.

"wait him? i've met that guy a bunch times he's here almost every match." leah realised, beth tightening her grip on her and marching the two of them in the boys direction.

"no personal bartender with you today then?" beth plastered a smile on her face, not wanting to go in with all guns blazing and scare the poor guy off. "oh her? please it took me almost twenty two years to get that girl to come to one game!" the boy laughed and re-introduced himself at beths subtle request.

"twenty two years?" leah frowned a little at the timeline, trying to piece it together. "yeah we go way back, grew up together since we were kids. pretty sure our parents were convinced we were gonna get married someday!" he joked with a grin, beth and leah exchanging a look.

"were?"

"well yeah, when they realised i liked boys and she liked girls that put a bit of a pin in their plans." mathew chuckled, leahs face paling as beth bit her lip to hide a smile at their obvious blunder. "so you two aren't..." beth gestured as the boys eyes widened and he laughed harder.

"please! god no. why, are one of you interested?" he winked, well aware of their ongoing presence at your workplace.

"but no she's very much so single. i've begged her to let me get her back into the dating scene but she's hopelessly hung up on some girl she's been sleeping with for months now-" the boy rolled his eyes, and had you been present you'd have smacked the living daylights out of him for oversharing, his favorite habit.

"-but this girl only wants something casual where as she wants more. so i've tried to get her to cut it off but she's convinced it doesn't hurt to keep it going, which i know her like the back of my hand and believe me, it's hurting her." mathew sighed with a shake of his head, eyes widening when he realized who he was actually talking to.

"but i am very very certain that she would kill me for sharing all of that so please if you see her at the bar don't mention it. i'd quite like to live to see next week i have tickets to next weekends match." the boy joked, glancing over his shoulder as a few of his friends called out for him.

"well fantastic game girls it was lovely speaking to you both. thank you for your time and i am very sorry for filling it with my own voice." he winced apologetically, flashing them a dazzling smile before hurrying off after his friends.

"find katie?" "find katie."

you looked over your shoulder in surprise as there was a knock at your door, a quick tap of your phone screen showing it was nearly half seven at night, hardly a time for a door to door salesmen to be coming round, and most of your friends knew where your spare key was and never hesitated to let themselves in.

pausing the episode of love island you were catching up on as you cooked, you tucked your phone into the pocket of your hoodie and padded over to the door, cautiously opening it as another knock sounded.

"we need to talk."

you stepped back as katie shot past you, a blur of red having just come from a video study debrief for the teams upcoming match against chelsea.

she knew you didn't work sundays so took a shot in the dark that you'd be home, grateful it paid off as you closed your door. "please, come in!" you scoffed at her abruptness, following after her into the kitchen.

"i'm not sleeping with you." you started firmly, crossing your arms over your chest as katie now scoffed, taking a seat at the kitchen bench. "when i said we needed to talk, i meant with our mouths and not with our tongues." the irishwoman quipped back causing a slight blush to creep over your cheeks.

"what's there to talk about katie?" you withheld a groan at the intrusion, ignoring her patting the seat beside her for you to sit down as if she was in her own home, instead you chose to stay standing a few feet away from her.

"why you're actin funny with me." the brunette folded her arms sternly and raised an eyebrow, now thanks to her faithful blonde friends she knew you didn't have a boyfriend she wanted answers as to why you'd been ignoring her.

"i've just been busy." you lied, turning your back to her and busying yourself resuming the chopping and prepping for your dinner, hoping with some minimal responses the brunette would grow tired and hopefully leave.

"bullshit, ya never ignore me entirely." katie held firm, and you could feel her eyes bore into the back of your head like lasers. "why do you even care? its not like we're dating or you can't get your needs met elsewhere." you added the last part a little bitterly, a pause of silence falling between the two of you.

"and what's that supposed to mean then?" katie scoffed, raising an eyebrow at the obvious change of tone. "you know what it means i'm not spelling it out for you." you shook your head, the only sound being your knife hitting the board as you chopped up the peppers.

"jesus would you stop that and actually talk to me?" katie snapped, standing to her feet with a frustrated huff. "okay. you want to do this? fine, lets do this." you also snapped, dropping the knife and spinning around to face the older girl.

"i thought that whatever we were doing was completely casual, a friends with benefits situation and i was fine with that." you started, crossing your arms over your chest. "but then you made it complicated." you accused, pointing at her as she made a face of both confusion and offence.

"i made it complicated? till yesterday i thought ya had a boyfriend you were using me to cheat on with!" katie defended making you now pull a face. "what on earth gave you that impression?" you asked, face scrunched up in both disgust and confusion at the mere thought.

"your boy mathew or whatever his name was!" katie rolled her eyes and you paused for a minute before letting out a loud sarcastic bark of laughter. "my best friend? jesus no he's not my boyfriend katie i'm a lesbian for god sakes!" you corrected now with a roll of your own eyes.

"and like you're one to talk about loyalty anyway. asking me to 'hang out' right after you're on a date with another girl and at my job of all places, you don't want to be used to cheat with? i don't like being a backup option when your first one isn't interested in rounding the bases with you." you spat, katie scoffing at the accusation.

"a date? when the hell did i go on a date? you're deluded!" she waved you off with a shake of her head, accent only getting thicker the more upset she became, still not understanding why everything had changed.

"don't you gaslight me! the blonde you took to dinner the other night, you two certainly seemed cosy." your nostrils flared angrily as you held your ground, not allowing what you'd seen to be dismissed. "the blonde what-" katie grimaced trying to think back, but then it clicked.

and she did quite possibly the worst thing she could have within that moment, grabbing her stomach and doubling over in laughter, which you assumed was at you.

"okay you know what? this conversation is over. get the hell out!" you ordered angrily, clearing the distance between the two of you in a few steps and shoving at her as the brunette barely stumbled backwards, still trying to catch her breath.

"you're quite gorgeous when you're jealous ya know." the irishwoman smirked cockily and your cheeks flushed red at the sudden shift in tone. "i repeat, get. out." you recovered quickly, pointing toward the front door as katies smirk only widened, advancing slowly toward you.

"katie-" you started to warn, backing up until you smacked into the counter, the brunette pressing her body against yours, hands flushed flat on the marble counter as she smiled smugly down at you. "say that again then, tell me to leave and i will."

you tried to tell her to get out, you really did, but as she lent down and brought her face closer to yours you were consumed by the alluringly comforting smell of her perfume, knees wobbly at her pearly white smile and the cheeky twinkle of her blue eyes.

but as your stomach fluttered and your heart leapt into your throat, you remembered that to her this was all just a game, it would never be anything more than this and for your own peace and protection, you couldn't give in.

"get out, please." you dropped your gaze right before her lips could touch softly to your own, gently pushing her off and quickly rounding the counter, trying to put as much distance between the two of you as you could.

"that wasn't a date ya know." you refused to turn around at her words, instead grabbing your knife again and resuming the chopping of your vegetables. "hey would you stop that, please." you hadn't heard her make your way over to you, her hand grabbing yours as you dropped the knife with a sigh.

"five minutes. just give me that to hear me out and then if you still want me to go i'm gone and ya won't hear from me again." she requested softly, you hesitated but after a quick glance at her pleading face you gave in with a sigh.

keeping a firm grip on your hand the irishwoman lead you over to the sofa, gently sitting you down before she took her own seat at the opposite end, purposefully giving you some space.

"that wasn't a date. that blonde lass you saw me with last week was one of my sisters, she came and stayed with me for a few days to see the game and catch up while she's on break from uni." katie started to explain as you felt your cheeks burn bright red in embarrassment, burying your face in your hands with a gentle groan.

"stop that, listen." katie lent forward, tugging your hands away and nudging you to sit up before she settled back and continued. "and the whole reason that i brought her to your work was so she could see ya, cause i might have talked her ear off about you." katies own cheeks now flushed a rosy pink as you frowned slightly.

"because if you'd have spoke with me that night, i was going to ask you on a date." katie revealed nervously, fidgeting a little in her spot. "you were?" was all you could manage to get out, positively overwhelmed at the thought.

"well actually i was going to ask for some clarification around the boyfriend thing, but then if we worked that out yeah i wanted to ask ya on a date." katie smiled awkwardly, rubbing her hands nervously on her thighs.

"but i don't-i thought you wanted things to be casual." you stammered out. "i thought you wanted things to be casual, i'd have asked you out after we first slept together until you brought up it being a one time thing." katie admitted as your eyes widened further.

"which is why i made sure i always left right after, didn't get to know ya, kept it casual. cause i guess you're alright in bed!" the girl teased cheekily, softening the somewhat awkward tension a little which you were grateful for.

"but then i couldn't help myself. i really wanted to get to know you more so i started hanging around a little, asking some stuff, testing the waters. then when you didn't immediately kick me out i thought maybe you might be into us being not so casual." katie admitted, the shy and nervous side of her she was revealing now not anything you'd ever seen from the brunette before.

"then mathew came into the picture and it threw me off!" katie rolled her eyes, a small smile curling into your lips as the puzzle pieces started to align in your head.

"so i guess that kind of brings us to now, and was really all i wanted to say." katie looked to you somewhat hopefully, awaiting to see what you would say next in return.

"i only said we should keep things casual after we slept together because i thought that's what you wanted, and i was fine with it too for awhile. but then you started to hang around and ask questions and seem interested, and then you slept over!" you paused for a moment to collect your thoughts as katie watched on, intently listening.

"well you made it complicated like i said and then i started to indulge myself into the delusions of what things would be like if we were something more. but i never thought you felt the same way and then you asked me to come to your game but you were being weird and quiet the whole time. then you came in with what i assumed was a date that really hit home for me that all we would ever be was casual." you revealed with a small wince at the obvious misunderstandings from the both of you.

"and i don't want that. my friends are all off having kids or getting engaged and i want something more than just casual sex, i want to mean something to someone which is why i brushed you off and sort of ghosted you i guess." you laid your own feelings down on the line somewhat hesitantly, scared for what it meant but unable to continue holding them back anymore.

"so you're telling me, that we could have been something more for the last few months if we just...talked about it." katie cracked a small smile which you returned with a slow nod, the two of you sharing a look before breaking out into a bout of soft laughter.

"jesus christ what a mess." katie sunk into the sofa with another laugh, dragging her hands down her face in disbelief. "do you want to stay for dinner?" you asked with a soft smile, head flopping against the back of the couch as you stared at the irishwoman a few feet away who perked up at the offer.

"i'd love to."

"no you chose last night! give it to me katie, now." you ordered with a huff, struggling to stay balanced as you straddled your girlfriends leg, craning for the remote which the taller girl held just out of your reach.

"i don't want to watch that reality crap you'll put on, can't we at least watch a movie?" katie held firm, pushing you away with her spare hand as you continued to fight her for the remote.

"no! you said that last night and then you fell asleep about ten minutes in." you rolled your eyes at the memory, squealing as a pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist, quickly pushing you down onto the lounge as she now sat on top of you.

"well here i am wide awake baby girl, so how about we ditch the tv all together and go to bed?" the footballer smiled suggestively, still holding the remote out of your reach. "sure." you smirked, grabbing her collar and pulling her down into a kiss.

"after we watch love island." you snatched the remote from her, taking advantage of her moment of weakness as you pushed her off of you, hastily sitting up and getting comfortable again as you navigated through to find the latest episode.

"are you serious? you would rather watch that crap than have sex with me right now?" katies chest heaved a little at the sudden passionate kiss which was rudely stolen from her, propping her body up on her elbows.

"i can get you in my bed any night of the week you're quite easy, love island is only on wednesdays." you grinned cheekily, clicking into the episode and patting the space beside you. "easy she says!" katie scoffed in disbelief, sitting upright but staying on the other side of the sofa, arms crossed with a frown embedded into her eyebrows.

with a roll of your eyes at her dramatics you shuffled down the lounge, forcefully uncrossing her arms and maneuvering your body to settle half on top of her, back wedged against the arm of the sofa while your legs draped across her lap, shaking out a blanket and settling it over the two of you.

"relax the face baby, at your age you'll get wrinkles." you teasingly rubbed your thumbs against her forehead as she scoffed. "my age! i'm only two years older than ya!" the bruntte shook her head, offence written all over her face as you grinned at how easy she was to wind up.

"you know i've always been into older women." you wiggled your eyebrows as the girls large hand came to cover your face, shoving your head away playfully. "shut up and watch your shit show."

though of course after ten minutes katie was fully invested, asking you all sorts of questions as you'd settled into her arms, her hands sliding under your top and resting on your stomach.

both of you content in the little bubble of domestic bliss you'd created, wrapped around one anothers fingers tightly and very much so smitten, not a single casual thing about any of it.

#woso x reader #woso #katie mccabe x reader #katie mccabe #woso fanfics #woso imagine #engwnt #alessia russo #woso blurbs #awfc x reader #arsenal women

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thebearer · 10 months

Note

i looooove the way you wrote carmys casual dominance over the reader in the feeling. could you write something else that has that same vibe? like him being protective/ dominant over her while they’re around the rest of the crew?

ahhh thank you so much!!! the casual dominance was a must for me with carmy it just makes me weak in the knees lol.

"Why don't you let me help you?" You hummed, leaning over Carmen's shoulder, watching as he expertly cut the onions. "I can handle spaghetti sauce."

Carmen scoffed lightly, looking up at you under heavy brows, still chopping furiously- much faster than anything you could. "I got it." He nodded.

Your face fell slightly, stepping back to stand beside him. Carmen invited you to family every night before the restaurant opened, it was sometimes the only time you'd see him until that night when he'd collapse into bed next to you. It was the busy season, summer and tourist time, meaning everyone wanted to come to the infamous restaurant.

Carmen's chest flooded with a pang of guilt at your small frown. Fuck, maybe he'd been too mean. "'m sorry, baby. Here, I have prep to do. Can you put this in the pan for me? Start it."

The tiny smile that curled on your lips made Carmen's heart skip in his chest. "Yes, Chef." You hummed, pressing a kiss to his cheek, snagging the diced onions and sliding them into the pan.

You'd seen Carmen make it enough to know how to make this recipe. Canned tomato sauce, oregano, onions- you measured them, adding it all easily.

"Woah-ho-ho, look who we got here." Richie cackled, turning the corner, ignoring Sydney's screams to announce it. "We got a new chef on the roster?"

You rolled your eyes, snagging the can opener and pressing the handles together. "Yeah, I'm your replacement, Richie."

Richie's face fell slightly. He knew you were joking but a part of him worried. "Cousin, what's this, huh?"

"She's just helping, alright? Get outta the way." Carmen nodded, slicing the beef easily. His eyes watched you, flicking from his task back to you.

"Hey," Carmen called, a firm snap of the tongue that had you turning to him. "Put the hair back, baby. No one wants a hair in their food."

"Yeah, c'mon." Richie added, snickering as you snagged the hair tie off your wrist. "Gonna replace me and she don't even know how to cook right-"

"Hey, easy, cousin." Carmen's eyes were hard, glaring at Richie, the whirr of his knife sliding across the cutting board adding a dangerous edge.

Richie held his hands up in mock defense. "My apologies, your fucking majesties." He scoffed.

You rolled your eyes, moving onto the next step on the card, pouring the cans of sauce in easily and stirring, giving the side of the pan a firm tap with the spoon to get the excess off. Reaching for the knob to turn the heat up, Carmen's hands were on your waist before you could.

"Here, baby," Carmen rasped, pulling you back slightly. "Gotta loose shirt on, so you gotta stay back, alright? Tuck it in or something for me. I don't want it catchin' on fire." He muttered, hand sliding over the hem of your shirt, pressing it gently against you.

"Actually, go find an apron, ok? I'l get this started. I don't want you gettin' anything on ya." Carmen nodded towards the back.

"Yes, Chef." You saluted him playfully, passing the spoon to him.

Carmen watched you walk towards his office, stirring the ingredients before turning on the stove. He let the flame on a low flicker, reaching in his pocket for his own cigarettes, fishing one out and lighting it under the pilot light.

"Chef," Carmen called, catching Sydney as she turned the corner. "You got it?"

"I got it." Sydney nodded.

"Great, I'll be in my office." Carmen walked off, finding you in his office, lazily looking through the papers on his desk.

"Anything good?" He asked, leaning against the door, arms crossed over his broad chest.

"What is spicy Moroccan carrot salad?" You tilted your head, reading Carmen's sloppy handwriting scribbled on the notecard.

"A side Sydney thinks would go good with the flounder we're getting in." Carmen hummed, blowing the smoke out the door before shutting it behind him.

He sunk down in his chair, patting his lap for you to sit with him. "Thanks f' helpin' me with family tonight." Carmen muttered, arms around your waist, bumming the cigarette in the tray. "Shouldn't be too long tonight."

You hummed, leaning back into his chest, head lulling back so you could look at him. "Not too long like I should wait up for you or...?"

Carmen snorted lightly. "I'll be home before midnight. Sydney and Marcus are closing tonight." He sighed, pressing a tiny kiss on your shoulder.

"Good," You grinned, turning so you were straddling him, your core rocking over his, covered by the aprons.

#thebearer #carmen berzatto blurb #thebearerblurbs #the bear #carmy the bear #carmy smut #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto x you #the bear season 2 #the bear hulu #bear

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cameronspecial · 1 month

Text

A New Kind Of Normal (Part 1)

Pairing: Dad!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Drug Use, Swearing, Arguing, and Name Calling

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.4K

Summary: Five years later, Rafe makes an unplanned stop at a diner that reveals a secret that Y/N has been keeping from him.

Masterlist

Y/N wipes the counter with a clean rag, looking up at the clock across the wall. Three more hours until Stella is dropped off from daycare. “If you think rubbing that spot over and over again will make a genie appear and you can wish for her to be here faster, then I’m sorry to say that you are going to be disappointed,” Harvey jokes, following her gaze to the clock. She stops cleaning, “Sorry, I just miss her so much. I think I’m PMSing.” “Sure, we can blame it on your period,” he laughs. Y/N pushes him over in annoyance, escaping to her back office to hopefully make the time go faster.

She smiles at the picture of the grandma on the desk, settling on her chair to order more inventory. Her life plans weren’t exactly to take over the diner, yet it’s not like she was planning on having a baby at twenty either. Y/N was left the diner in her grandma’s will and she took it so that it could stay in the family. There are no regrets in either of those decisions. Sure, she didn’t get her big break in LA or New York, but she would never dream of trading her daughter for anything in the world. Stella Y/L/N is the light of her life, even if she is the spinning image of her dad. Stella is all Y/N’s and that’s all that matters. She may have Rafe’s eyes, but she has Y/N’s sense of humour. Her lips are the same as his, but she loves the same movies as her mom. Her hair colour may match his, but she also has the same bad habit of biting her nails as her mom.

Y/N focuses on the words on her screen when Harvey comes running into her office. “A total hunk just came into the restaurant and I have been ordered by Patty to come get you. She thinks he can be your soulmate. Says to let you take his table,” he informs, pointing behind him with his thumb. Y/N shakes her head, “I’m the owner. I really should be the one telling you to take tables, but I won’t disappoint Patty. I’ll be out in a second.” Harvey nods and heads back out to check on his customers. She finishes up the order she was working on, fixing her shirt before heading out the door.

The sound of a door opening draws Rafe’s attention and his heart stops at the scent of vanilla he hasn’t smelt in five years. Even if it was only one night, he has been haunted by the wearer of that scent for years. His eyes land on her and he can’t believe he gets to see her again. Her smile is still as brilliant. Y/N heads behind the counter to get an apron and his insides collapse in on himself as he watches her smile dim at his sight. He doesn’t know why she would be upset at him. She was the one who left in the morning without a word. Suddenly, the face on his watch needs to be constantly adjusted.

As Y/N exits her office, she has to stop herself from screaming at the man sitting in the booth. She could never forget him; a living reminder of him literally came out of her vagina almost four years ago. Fear creeps into her brain. The only possible reason he could be here after all these years is because of that living reminder. With the resources he has, he would most certainly win custody over Stella and Y/N couldn’t allow that to happen. But maybe he doesn’t know about her. If he did, then wouldn’t it make more sense to bring a lawyer with him? She decides to find out why he is really here first before she goes on the defence as she walks over to take his order.

“What are you doing here?” she grits through bared teeth. He gives her a confused look, “I had a meeting with clients. I thought I would stop to get something to eat before heading back to the Outer Banks.”

Her expression lightens up at his words. “So you aren’t here to see me?” His head moves from side to side, “No. I mean that night was amazing, but I wasn’t expecting to see you here. I’m just hungry.” He notices that her eyes keep glancing towards the clock and the nail of her thumb is being gripped by her teeth. He wonders why she looks so worried all of a sudden.

“Okay, good. I mean cool. What can I get you? A burger? Salad? Pie?”

“Woah, woah, woah. Slow down, Buttercup. Why are you in such a rush? Aren’t you going to get my drink order first?”

“Right. Of course. What can I get you to drink?”

“A coffee, please.”

Rafe had never seen a woman run away from him so fast before and he has got to say that he is offended. He doesn’t know what he did to garner such a reaction from her, but he vows to make it up to her. His hand goes up to his mouth, so he can check his breath. Smells fine. The mug of coffee is quickly placed in front of him and she practically forces him to give her his food order right at this second.

Y/N hands the order to Patty in the kitchen, “Pat, I need you to focus on this order, please. Get it out first and as fast as you can.” The older woman’s eyebrow shoots up. “That’s a little unusual, but I can do that for you, honey. Can you watch the other food then for me, please?” she asks. Y/N does as asks and makes sure the chicken tenders in the fryer don’t burn. Patty gets Rafe’s food done in a jiffy and Y/N takes it out to him. She stays behind the counter, looking between the clock and Rafe eating every so often. She swears she has never seen someone eat so slowly. He has to be doing this on purpose. He can feel her gaze on him and he has pieced together that something must be coming that she doesn’t want him to see. His curiosity gets the best of him, so he decides to make this lunch last.

The jingle of a bell above the door catches his attention. He turns to see a little girl run into the diner and round the counter to the woman standing behind it. “Mommy,” she screams, jumping into Y/N’s arms. With a clear view of the girl now that she is being carried by her mom, Rafe can now see her in more detail.

The long locks that frame her face are the same muddy blonde colour as his. Her eyes match his ocean-blue ones. And she definitely inherited the shape of his lips. He tries to do the math in his head. He isn’t great at guessing kids’ age. She looks about three, maybe four. So four years plus the ten months of pregnancy, that child is almost certainly his. He feels like his world is falling in on itself. How could he not know that he had a little girl? Did she know she had a daddy? He promised himself if he ever had a kid that they would never feel the same way about him as he does about his dad. But he did one step worse by not even being in his daughter’s life. Anger starts to fill him and he knows he needs to find a way to manage it before he lets it out on the wrong person.

“Stells, what are you doing back so early?” Y/N questions her grinning daughter, moving the hair out of the girl’s face. She nods along to the explanation about daycare ending early today, so Mrs. Winters dropped her off early. Her eyes are focused on Rafe and she watches as he pieces the puzzle together. She observes as he slaps money onto the table, quickly making his exit. “Shit,” the mother whispers. “Can you go to my office, please? Mommy will bring you a snack, baby.” Y/N makes sure Stella is making her way to the office before running after Rafe. Her feet slap against the concrete and she spots him entering his truck. She goes to chase after him, but he drives off in a blink of an eye.

——

He had a daughter. He had a little girl that he could cherish and watch grow that she kept a secret from him. He doesn’t even know their daughter’s name. His anger fills him to the brim and he needs an outlet to get rid of it. The white powder in the small baggies calls to him, so he rushes to his coffee table. He draws the cocaine into lines and brings his nose down to snort the powder. The drugs start to affect him; his judgement starts to be clouded.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket to dial a number, “Barry, I need you to find an address for me.”

——

“So how was daycare, Stella?” Y/N questions her daughter, cutting up a cucumber for a snack. Stella runs up to the counter, “It was good, Mommy. I got a rainbow sticker for being a good girl.” The girl pulls at the front of her shirt to show off the sticker on it. “That’s great, Baby. You must have worked hard today to be a good girl. I’m proud of the effort you put in. Now, why don’t you go get ready for your snack? Mommy is almost done getting everything ready,” she suggests, moving on to get the cheese cut. Stella yells an okay and runs to the bathroom.

The hard knock on the door reverberates around the open floor plan of the small house. This stops Y/N in her tracks and she goes to answer the door. When she sees who it is, she tries to shut the door in his face, but his foot stops her. “How come you didn’t tell me I had a daughter?” he growls, pushing his way into her house. His force causes her to stumble backwards and luckily, she is able to catch herself before she falls on her bum like on the night they first met. She shuts the door, turning toward him, “I was going to tell you. But by the time I found out I was pregnant, I had already learnt the type of person you truly were.”

“The type of person I truly was? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Can you keep your voice down, please? She is just down the hall.”

“What do you mean?” he snarls, approaching her so they are chest to chest. The dark look in his eyes and the towering figure over her should’ve scared her. She can see the abnormal size of his pupils, so she knows he is high. However, she can’t stop thinking about the man that she met. Not about the stories of his anger issues or how he beats people to a pulp. Not about how he not only does cocaine but sells it at parties too. All she can see is the man who lost his button and ranted about how his father is an asshole. Passing the anger of her hiding Stella, she can see the sadness he feels about missing out on her life so far. Yet, the fact that he shows up at her house, high and yelling while Stella is there causes her to feel her own fury as her maternal side starts to show.

She stands straight, taking a few steps forward that makes him walk backwards, “What do I mean? I mean that I found out that you not only do drugs, but you sell them. I found out that you beat people up who aren’t in the same financial circle as you. I found out that you have anger issues that you don’t seem to want to change. Rafe, you weren’t the type of father I wanted for my daughter.” Seeing such a sweet person say all those vile but true things about him sends a pang through his heart.

“You never gave me a chance to change! I would’ve done anything for her if I knew she existed.”

“Really? Because from where I’m standing right now, you are proving me right. Look what you did when you found out about her. You didn’t try to talk to me like an adult. You went out and got high then barged into my house demanding answers.”

“You know what? All of you bitches are the same. You think that you are so much better than everyone because you don’t do drugs or get angry. Well let me tell you something, you are just a poor slut who got pregnant on purpose to have a permanent cash cow. You aren’t better than me. You are just better at hiding it than me.”

The volume she was about to talk at was not one she had ever used before, but she wasn’t about to let him talk about her or her daughter like that. “GET OUT! I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN UNLESS YOU HAVE A LAWYER WITH YOU!” She storms toward the door and throws the door open. Rafe didn’t think someone with such a nice personality could be so loud. It helps bring him back to reality and he realizes what he just did. His shoulders relax with his anger. He looks at her sadly as he follows her pointed finger out of the door.

Y/N shuts it once he is out the door. She runs her fingers through her hair, giving a tug to the end of her roots. The frustrated sigh she lets out is the only sound in the room until a small voice catches her attention. “Mommy, are you okay?” Y/N turns to her teary-eyed daughter and concern floods through her. She rushes to her, bringing her up to rest against her hip. Her forehead rests against the younger girl’s temple, “I’m okay, Stells. Mommy isn’t hurt, just angry. Are you okay, Baby? I know hearing Mommy yell might have been scary. I’m sorry you had to hear that.” Stella’s arms circle her mother’s shoulders and she gives her mother a kiss on the cheek as comfort. “I’m okay, Mommy. The scary man is gone now. Who was he?”

Y/N wishes she could pretend like there was no man, but Stella had obviously seen Rafe. There is no denying it. Y/N just has no idea who she wants Rafe to be to her daughter.

Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @drewstarkeyswifehoe @kisstaya @magicalyoura @mp-littlebit @loverfu55ii

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shewrites7 · 9 months

Text

The First Step

carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary - The first thing you do when you get back to your hometown of Chicago is pay Carmen, your oldest friend and maybe more than that, a visit at The Beef. When you land yourself a job there, the more he sees of you, the more he seems to push you away for reasons he isn't yet brave enough to tell you, even if all he wants is to be with you. But if he'd ever known you, he'd know that you weren't going to back down without a fight.

type - one shot (its a long one)

word count [16.6k]

tags: Carmy Berzatto x f!reader, friends to lovers, pining, slight miscommunication, a little angst, "stop pushing me away", hurt/comfort, and new promises.

warnings: swearing, mentions of grief/death, panic attack

a/n: check this out also on my ao3! <33

Carmen was tired, to say the least. He'd been working himself to the bone every damn day for the past few months, trying to get The Beef to a good, stable place. Somehow, as time went by, he'd only managed to dig himself a deeper grave. With the money they owed to Cicero, he knew, deep down, that the restaurant was, for lack of a better word, fucked.

But he kept holding on. He couldn't let go of it. He'd wonder, in the depths of night, why he was fighting so hard for this place when he could easily sell it to Cicero. If, maybe, he was holding onto someone. He didn't amuse the thought. He physically couldn't.

So he threw himself deeper into his work. Deeper into making The Beef a reputable place, with a professional working staff and high-quality food. It didn't matter that the others looked at him like he'd lost his mind. Maybe he had. He didn't have the time to worry about that. He didn't have time for much of anything, which is why Sydney had been pushing for new hires. She'd said that they needed more hands in the kitchen, more workers up front, more of everything. They should be desperate.

That's why she'd spent hours putting up posters for new hires on what felt like practically every block of Chicago within a mile radius from the restaurant. And that's why you'd happened to stumble upon one of them while walking to a favorite pizza place of yours that you'd loved as a kid. It was one of the first things you'd planned on doing ever since you'd gotten back into the city. That and meeting up with some old friends who you'd missed with an ache in your chest. So, seeing the poster clinging to the utility pole saying that The Beef was hiring had your heart skip a little beat at the prospect of not only getting a job but seeing the people who had basically been your family growing up again.

It was a Friday morning when you'd stopped by The Beef, the rusted white sign sticking out like a sore thumb. A rush of aromas wafted against your nose when you walked in, and the front door made a jingling sound that was almost nostalgic.

No one was at the front register. In fact, you couldn't see anyone at all, only hear some muffled voices coming from the kitchen in the back. The voices grew louder as seconds went by, and you could tell they were shouts. The kitchen door then flew open, finally revealing the argument going on between two people, one being an unfamiliar woman in an apron, and the other being none other than Richie Jerimovich.

"Richie, I swear to God-"

"I already told you," came the booming voice of Richie, neither of them noticing your presence at the door. "Your foo foo plans for this place are not gonna fly, Sweetheart!"

With the way Richie was talking to her, you could see the woman's patience wearing thin as she rested a hand on her temple with shut eyes as he carried on. It was only when she reopened her eyes a few moments later that she noticed your presence.

"Hi," you said, making your way over to her. "I saw your poster, the one about looking for new hires-"

"Right, right." She offered a strained smile, stress seeming to stay with her. "I'm Sydney, you must be one of the job applicants?"

"Yeah, I'm-"

"A job applicant?" Richie's voice boomed through the room, his voice always projecting ten times louder than need be. You had to admit, you missed it. "F that bullshit, that's fucking Mars Bar!"

Sydney's eyebrows lowered at the shouted nickname, the one that the Berzattos had gifted you years ago after your favorite candy as a kid. You granted Richie a smile, him finally noticing you. "Nice to see you too, Richie."

He marched around the counter to engulf you in a bear-like hug that had you letting out a chuckled gasp from the impact, arms wrapping tightly around your back. He let go in a beat and slammed his hands down on the counter in excitement, always loud.

"Just wait till Carmy hears about his favorite girl being back, I swear to God."

Something fluttered through you at the mention of that name. Carmen's name. With a whirlwind of thoughts sifting through your mind, you almost missed the other name that Richie had called you, aside from Mars Bar. Carmy's favorite girl.

-----

Richie had barged into the kitchen with full vigor, slamming open the swinging door dangerously close to a nearby Tina.

"Cousin!" He moved through the different chefs' stations until he got to Carmen's, who was wrapped up in prepping and quite frankly had learned to tune out the sound of Richie's yelling for his own health. "Yo, Cousin!"

Richie boisterously grabbed a hold of Carmen's shoulders, rocking him a little and moving his hand that wielded a knife, cutting diagonally into beef he'd been pre-slicing.

"Shit," Carmen cursed, irritation forming. "What the hell is it, Cousin?"

Richie just laughed, a mind never paid to Carmen's annoyance. "Yea, you're pissed at me now, Carmy, but you're gonna think I'm pulling your dick when I tell you who's at the fucking register right now."

With a forever-present dull headache, Carmen sighed and shifted his focus to him, putting down his knife on the counter. He gestured a hand out to him. "Who's at the register, Rich-"

"The fucking love of your life, that's who!"

Richie gave Carmen a playful punch in the arm, but he remained unphased, a frown etched on his features. "See, what the fuck are you talking about? I don't have a love of my-"

"Two words, Cousin. Mars Bar."

Richie was right. Those two words really did do something to him.

"She- ... she's here?"

He rubbed his jaw, brain short-circuiting for a second as he tried to make sense of Richie's words. His eyes bore into Richie's never-serious ones, trying to grasp onto whether or not he was, just this one time. If he was messing with him, he didn't think he'd be able to take it.

"Yes, bro!" Yelled Richie, patting him on the back. "I swear to you. She's here, and hot as balls, too."

He squinted his eyes at him with a twinge of disgust, slightly shoving him to the side to get towards the door. He still didn't know if he believed it. You'd been traveling abroad on some grant that he, to be honest, didn't know much about. But you were doing great things. He couldn't guess why you'd come back to The Beef, of all places.

When he saw you through the window, he was lucky he was hidden behind the safety of the kitchen door because he couldn't control the way his body and mind froze at the sight of you. He took in the way your smile beamed out into the room as you spoke with Sydney, warm and unignorable, and he could've sworn something changed in the chemical makeup of his brain. Something that had his eyes widening and his feet planted in their place.

"What'd I tell you?" Richie's voice from behind him knocked him out of his trance. There was a smug, amused edge to his voice. "Now go and talk to her."

Carmen put a hand out, shooing him away. "I will. I just," he stopped, trailing off as he took in the way you truly seemed to glow after all the time spent away. He liked how it looked on you.

"Aww, don't tell me you're nervous now, Carm." Richie put his arms on Carmen's shoulders.

"Shut the fuck up." He shoved Richie off of him with a grimace, but his eyes never left you, jaw clenching as he followed your movements. "I'm not."

The pit in his stomach told him otherwise. He ignored the feeling, determined, and took in a breath before opening the kitchen door to the front of the restaurant, to where you stood.

At the sound of the door swinging open you finally turned your attention to him, lips coming to part with a subtle inhale that somehow left you feeling breathless.

"Carmen." You said his name with a grin, eyes lighting up, heart picking up its pace in your chest. You ran over for a quick, thoughtless hug that left his body partly on fire when you pulled away just as fast.

"Mars Bar." He uttered the old nickname endearingly, his voice cracking at the end of his words for some reason. He cleared his throat. "You're uh- you're here. In Chicago."

"Woah," Richie interrupted, coming in from behind, boisterous. "We've got a genius in The Beef, everybody!"

Sydney snorted from somewhere in the distance, but you couldn't even laugh because you'd been too busy staring at the way Carmen ran his hand through his golden hair that had been unruly since you were practically kids and still was.

"Yeah," you breathed, cringing at how awkward your voice sounded to your own ears. "I'm here."

The two of you held onto each other's gazes for a beat too long, scanning over the other wordlessly, taking in the changes that the years apart had brought.

"Well, uh," Carmen started, licking his lip to find strings of coherent words. "Do you wanna come into the office? Catch up?"

You nodded with a pleased tug of your lips. "Yeah, sure Carmen."

He nodded too and led the way, arm delicately resting on your upper back for a second in a way that left his fingertips buzzing, alive.

You entered the room after he did, the desk and walls littered with papers and sticky notes of different colors, an overload to the senses. It was stuffy, even with the door left open.

Before he turned to face you, he clumsily sorted some papers that'd been sitting on a wooden chair into stacks and pushed them onto the highest shelf above his desk so you could sit down, his white t-shirt slightly tugging upwards as he reached. Your eyes subtly followed the movement, eyes glancing steadily over a part of his lower abdomen that you felt alarmed at even sneaking a peak. That and the muscles that showed clearly from the short sleeves of his shirt.

God, you'd only been back in Chicago for a few days and your mind was already doing that thing it always did when you were around Carmen, like it didn't have the ability to think straight or act rationally when he was around.

"So, uh," Carmen started, turning his focus back to being one hundred percent on you. It became hard to concentrate when he did that, because he had the most piercing blue eyes you'd ever seen and you found over the years that they'd always had more than just one emotion swimming around in them. As you looked into them now, you still came up short in identifying them.

"What are you doing back in Chicago?" He looked at you like you were a puzzle, one he couldn't give up on solving. "Did the studies abroad finally start to bore you?"

"Yeah, they did," you joked, looking down at your lap. "Not really much to do in Europe compared to this place, you know?"

Carmen let out a wisp of a laugh, nodding, while also noting somewhere in the back of his mind that this was the first time he'd laughed in at least a few days. Your presence could always do that to him; Put him at ease when nothing else truly could.

"And, of course, I could only go so long being separated from the Berzattos."

He laughed again. That made twice. "Oh yeah?"

You nodded, playful in your words.

"I mean it." You did.

You let a comfortable silence nestle between the two of you, feeling the upward tug of your lips that you could only blame on Carmen. The thought left something alighted in your chest

"Seriously though." You say up a little straighter in your seat. "I guess the real reason I stopped by was because I was wondering if I could help out around here for a little while, now that I'm back home."

At this, the smile that had been resting on Carmen's face began to weaken.

"What?" His forehead creased, eyes dancing across your face with curiosity and disguised panic of his own.

Sensing his change in mood, you hurriedly continued. "I'll be home for a while and, you know, I just figured me getting a job here would be convenient and-"

"No."

You stopped mid-sentence, zeroing in on the man before you. "No?"

He had one hand leaning against the desk, the other's fingertips pressed to his forehead, head cast down, eyes evading yours.

"No, I- I'm sorry, Mars. We're ... we're not hiring right now. We don't need any new workers." At that, you frowned, taking in the tension in Carmen's stance and the tightness in his voice.

"I know The Beef is hiring right now, Carm." You gave him a disbelieving look. "In fact, I got the idea to work here from the flyers Sydney put up everywhere, so don't try and tell me you're not looking for new job applicants." You took a step closer to him, sensing something wrong and confused as to why he would lie, but he only seemed to be growing more agitated, shifting his posture upwards and no longer leaning on the table.

"That was a mistake, alright? I didn't ask her to do that. The Beef is doing perfectly fine, we don't need any extra help." Something sour was rotting in the undertones of his voice, the way he said the word help as if the thought of it was repellent.

"I didn't mean anything by asking. I ... I know you guys are doing fine, probably great even, I was just thinking that maybe I could-"

"We don't need any new fucking hires, Mars." He slammed his hand down on the desk, his tone raising so abruptly that it had you taking a step back in surprise.

When you looked up at him with alarm in your eyes, immediately his eyes began to soften, regret flooding through them. You held his gaze until those same eyes became taken over with this sudden guilt, almost sadness, flickering downwards towards his hands that moved to rest on his office desk, away from you.

You took a second to scan over the desk that was littered with papers and unsigned documents. It wasn't like Carmen to be unorganized, you knew that much. He had to be in a bad place to have his office look like this. Or, rather, Mikey's old office.

The room was a sensory overload, every inch of it a reminder of Mikey. Anyone would go crazy spending their days in here. Especially if that someone had been his little brother.

Carmen rubbed his hands over his face. You took a step next to him, resting a hand on his shoulder that lit aflame from the heat he gave off.

"For what it's worth," you started softly, and Carmen had to fight a shiver at how close your voice was to him. "I miss Mikey too."

He didn't make any movement to turn towards you, his jaw clenched and eyes still staring downwards. He didn't know what made you feel like you had to say that to him. He didn't need to look at you, though, to know you truly meant it.

"You can't work here," he said, his voice sounding defeated and a little far away. "I'm sorry."

Something restless in your heart was determined to make you fight back, figure out why Carmen was refusing you without a good reason. But something else inside of you softened at the way Carmen wouldn't meet your eyes, seeming guilt-stricken, and decided to back down. The hand that had been resting on his shoulder gave him a final squeeze.

You took your leave for the office door without Carmen moving an inch.

"Bye, Carm." Your voice was unfairly soft towards him, even if he felt like he didn't deserve the kindness that thrummed from your heart. "It was nice seeing you." You paused. "I've missed you."

Before he could turn to say goodbye, somehow communicate the 'I've missed you too' that he'd been meaning to express since he'd seen you, you had already turned down the hallway, out of sight. He knew for sure, then, that you didn't deserve that response from him. But he just didn't know how to tell you. How to explain without sounding ridiculous why alarms sounded in his brain at the thought of you working at The Beef.

He'd always known that you were destined for more than just the life you'd shared with him as kids, where you scored straight A's and were one of the top in your class. When you'd left for college while he stayed put, he didn't even let himself miss you, because he'd just wanted what was best for you. And when you furthered your studies even after college, traveling abroad, he knew that was the life you were meant for. To see you stopping all of that to work at The Beef, the place where his brother's dreams had become nothing but dead ends as time went on, wouldn't settle right inside of him.

Worst of all, he had visions of you working in the kitchen, behind the scenes where tensions were constantly overwhelming, of him losing his cool in front of you and you seeing a side of him he tried to keep you far away from. You'd always known the youngest brother Carmy, the world-class chef Carmy, the one who was at his best around you. He couldn't imagine what he would do if suddenly he revealed the Carmy he tried to hide; the Carmy who worked at The Beef, a bundle of unstable frustration who was barely hanging on, the Carmy who still didn't know how to live life without Mikey but who melted from your touch, who wanted more from the girl who'd been at his side for so many years as nothing but a friend, and a great one. He couldn't risk losing that.

Especially not with the condition of The Beef at the moment, which needed his full focus. Having you around would definitely not allow for that. So he convinced himself that this was for your own good. For his own good.

When you rounded the corner back out into the front of the restaurant, Richie was still there behind the counter, holding a phone to his ear.

You smiled at him a little tiredly and silently waved goodbye, walking towards the door.

Richie frowned, removing his focus from the phone call. "Where the hell are you leaving to so fast?" You spun around. "Don't tell me Carmy scared you off already."

You laughed awkwardly and thought of what to say, but must have taken too long to answer because Richie's face was already contorting with an over-the-top grimace.

"What'd that moron say to you, huh?"

You put a hand out, trying to calm him. "Richie, it's nothing, really-"

He was already stalking off towards the office, muttering something about 'killing Carmen'. You shook your head to yourself, because you knew how headstrong both of them were, and turned towards the exit. And, as you finally opened the glass door to leave, you could hear yelling and shouted vulgar words coming from the office. You didn't stay long enough to listen.

You didn't know what to think when it happened. You'd been sitting at home all weekend, alone, and honestly truly bored and wondering if coming back home was the right choice when your phone started ringing. You checked the screen and it was an unknown caller, but boredom had you picking it up anyway.

Mars Bar!

"Hello? Who is this?"

It's me.

"..."

Richie.

"Ohh ... right. How did you get my number again?"

I asked around. Anyways, it doesn't matter. I'm supposed to be telling you that you're gonna start work tomorrow.

"What? Start work? Where?"

At The Beef. C'mon Mars catch up with me here.

"Sorry, I'm just ... confused. Carmen told me you guys weren't hiring and that he couldn't give me a job?"

Oh, that. Don't worry about Carmy. I set that moron straight.

"What are you saying?"

I'm saying, you got the job kid!

"Richie, are you fucking with me right now?"

No! Why does everyone always think I'm fucking with them? I'm fucking serious hon.

"Okay, okay! I ... I believe you. I think."

You better! Carmy is really fucking stoked to have you work here, I mean it.

"He ... he is?"

Sure! So I better see your ass Monday morning, capeesh?

"Y-yea I guess so."

Your heart really should not have fluttered the way it did when Richie told you that Carmen was supposedly excited to see you. He hadn't sounded like it when you'd brought it up to him. In fact, he seemed strangely opposed to the idea, like you'd hit a sensitive area.

You weren't sure if you could really believe Richie. Like you'd always known, Carmen was stubborn as hell. The change of heart was unexpected, to say the least. You didn't know what to think. You still didn't know, as you walked through the front entrance of The Beef the next day, ready to start work. The only person to greet you at the front was Richie, standing behind the counter, per usual.

"Cousin!" He gestured you over. You greeted him back and rounded the corner to stand behind the counter next to him, unused to the feeling after spending years on the other side of it.

Richie spent at most two minutes giving you a rundown of what you'd be doing at The Beef, merely distracted by some yelling in the kitchen. The brief directions consisted mostly of taking orders and ringing a bell. A real challenge.

"Yeah, so that's basically it." He gave you a pat on the back and your front almost hit the counter at the impact.

"No paperwork or formalities or anything?" You were almost suspicious of the fast speed at which this had all happened. Richie whipped his head around like you'd stated something crazy.

"Formalities? C'mon, what are we, the fucking White House? This is a family business, Cousin."

He patted you on the shoulder roughly. "Thanks, Richie," you said, both slightly amused and slightly unnerved. You tapped your fingers on the marble countertop, trying to seem casual. "Where's um ... where's Carmy?"

Richie scratched his head. "He's, uh, he's busy. He'll be out soon. Don't you worry, shortcake." He gave you a wink that you didn't know what to do with and turned back towards the kitchen. You were gonna have to talk to him about those nicknames in the workplace sooner or later.

You called out to him before he left into the kitchen, hesitant. "You're sure Carmen said he wants me to work here, right?"

Your eyes bore into Richie's for a moment, and it was almost like you could see the thoughts in his head visibly swarming about. His shoulder raised. "Well, he didn't exactly say he wanted you to, but anyone with fucking eyes can see that he wants you-"

"Richie!" Your jaw hung open in utter annoyance and bafflement. He frowned at you.

"What?"

You almost scoffed. "Did Carmen really not say it was okay for me to work here?" You looked around, bewildered. "Does he even know I'm here?"

Richie gestured his hands out to you. "Sure he does!"

You could tell just from his tone what your answer was. You put a hand on your hip, shaking your head to yourself. "I'm going in there to talk to him."

"No!" Richie's eyes widened. "No. Just calm down, and I'll talk to him."

You stared at him disbelievingly. He stared back at you challengingly with the confidence only Richie could have. "I'll be back in no time. I know what I'm doing, trust me."

Richie didn't know what he was planning on doing when he opened the door to the kitchen in search of Carmen. He just hoped he wasn't using a knife when he found him.

He turned a few corners before Carmen was in his line of view, hunched over the counter as he worked busily on something Richie couldn't see. He leaned against the counter next to him, watching Carmen as his focus didn't even falter.

"Carm."

He didn't get a reply, just the back of Carmen's head as he focused on reading the piece of paper in front of him, hand braced against the shining surface it lay on.

"Carmy."

The man in question slowly shifted his focus to the man next to him, whose distracting presence had become impossible to ignore. "What? What is it?"

Richie peered down at him. "Promise that you won't get mad."

Carmen's eyes narrowed. "What the hell did you do?"

"Just promise me you won't fucking blow up at me like you always do."

"Why would I promise that if I don't even know what the hell you did?"

Richie tipped his head back exasperatedly. "Just say you promise!"

"I fucking promise! Okay?" Carmen ran a hand through his hair, moving it again to cross his arms. "Now, what is it?"

Richie paused, kicking out his foot and casually peering down at it with feigned interest. "Mars Bar is outside right now. Again."

Carmen's forehead creased and he looked over at Richie with sudden alarm. "What? Why? Is she okay?"

Richie gave him a knowing look, smug for a moment. "Yeah, she's fine." He shrugged. "I just, um, might have given her a job here up at the register."

Carmen's face was unmoving, his tone raising with poorly hidden anger. "You what?"

"And I might've also told her you really wanted her to work here."

Carmen's eyes scanned Richie's sporadically like he couldn't process his words fast enough. "Wh- Why the fuck would you do that? I already told her no-"

"Yeah, and I told her yes. Because you're an idiot and I'm saving your ass. You're welcome!"

Carmen ran a hand through his hair exasperatedly. "For what? Fucking me over?"

"I did not fuck you over, Carm, I'm doing this for you!"

Carmen shook his head, anger bleeding its way through his mind. "What the hell are you talking about? I told you, Richie, I don't want her anywhere near this place. I- I thought that was understood."

"No, it was not fucking understood because it was a stupid idea." Carmen let out a scoff as Richie put his hands out to Carmen in a calming gesture. "This is a good thing, trust me."

Carmen sputtered. "How the fuck is it-"

"Shut the fuck up and listen to me, Carm!" Richie shouted, bravely putting a hand up in front of Carmen's face. He pointed his finger at him which Carmen regarded with annoyance. "You need to stop being a moron and pushing away every single fucking female that tries to come within ten feet of you, alright?"

Carmen's brows furrowed even further, confusion building alongside anger. "I really have no goddamn idea what your point is here, Richie, but this has nothing to do with-"

"Oh spare me, Cousin!" He shouted. "We all know you've had the hots for Mars Bar over there since you were kids, alright?"

Carmen's mouth clamped shut immediately at this, his breathing coming out in fumes. He shook his head back and forth.

"Is this what this whole fucking thing is about, you jagoff?"

"Woah woah woah!" Richie cut in. "I am not the jagoff here, Cousin. I'm helping you out!"

"Richie's right, Carm," cut in Fak from behind, appearing suddenly out of nowhere like he always seemed to.

"Shut the fuck up, Fak!" Carmen held his head in his hand, trying to grab hold of his temper that he could feel slipping out of control. He needed to breathe.

"She can't work here."

Richie raised his arms in a shrug. "Well, you're gonna have to go tell her that yourself."

"I fucking will."

Carmen stormed off towards the kitchen door, ready to tell you yet again that you had to leave, a daunting thought overlooked thanks to adrenaline. Richie chuckled from behind him. "Yeah right, like you're gonna fire her."

Carmen didn't let himself listen to Richie any longer. Fists clenched at his sides, he opened the door and there you were, standing there, looking confused and a little surprised with parted lips.

Richie came up from behind and patted him on the back. "Go on, Carm. Tell her." You watched as Carmen's jaw clenched.

Carmen really wanted to tell you that you couldn't work here. That you had to go home. That you had to run far away from this place and go back to studying abroad and being more successful than any of them and all of that bullshit. Maybe it was because your eyes were shining a little too bright in the restaurant lighting, or that they looked a little too hopeful as they stared back at him with raised brows, waiting. But he didn't say anything of those things.

"You..." he started. Your eyebrows raised further. His palms suddenly became sweatier. He took a breath in.

"You, um," a beat passed. He licked his lip. "You're gonna need an apron."

Your eyes lit up even more if possible, and he thought his heart would give out. Then, you ran up and threw your arms around his neck in a tight hug, and he genuinely questioned if his brain had short-circuited because, by the time he came back to reality, you'd already pulled away and were practically jittering with excitement from in front of him.

"Thank you so much, Carm." Every time you smiled at him in that way he felt himself lose a bit of control. He didn't like the feeling. "You won't regret it."

He smiled back at you because he couldn't not. He wasn't so sure.

Carmen had given you your apron. When he'd handed it to you, you'd brushed fingers and your heart skipped a little beat at the contact. That had been the most eventful thing to occur within the next four days.

You'd done practically nothing at The Beef all week. There'd been a noticeable lack of customers coming into the restaurant to take orders, and those who did oftentimes came in just to see Richie, which had you leaning against the counter waiting and listening to their loud conversations with the man.

It felt like there was some sort of prank being played on you. Surely they wouldn't pay you money for doing absolutely nothing. All the waiting around doing close to nothing made you antsy, frustrated, and confused.

You'd been meaning to address this to Carmen, to ask what you were doing wrong, but getting a hold of him was near impossible. You'd seen so little of Carmen that you couldn't even be sure he came into work most days, the only confirmation being his shouts coming from the kitchen at the others. As embarrassing as it was to admit, you became jealous of them. You'd take Carmen shouting orders at you in the kitchen any day over him saying nothing to you at all. It almost felt like he was avoiding you.

It was a Thursday night, and the antsy feeling inside of you had you staying late at work that night, wiping down tables with an intense amount of fervor.

You'd thought you were the last one in The Beef. It'd been dark for hours, but you had nobody and nothing exciting waiting for you at home, so working a little extra couldn't hurt. And, if it made Carmen notice your position at The Beef at least a little bit, it would be worth it.

As your thoughts drifted to the man, something made a noise from the kitchen, and it became apparent to you that maybe you weren't the only one working late that night.

"Hello?" You'd said aloud, your voice slightly echoing in the vacant restaurant. No response was returned. You slowly went back to scrubbing down a table against the far wall from the kitchen door when it swung open, and there stood Carmen Berzatto in his patchwork wool jacket, looking like seeing you was the last thing he'd expected.

The sight was jarring to you for a number of reasons. You jumped up speedily and tucked the rag you'd been using to clean tables slightly behind you as if he hadn't already seen you using it.

"Mars Bar?" He said, the nickname falling easily from his lips like it was the only one he'd ever known you by. He eyed your tense stance.

"Hey, Carmen." Your smile was just as unnatural. His eyebrows pulled downward at you, eyes squinting and blinking confusedly in the dim lighting like he was fighting sleep.

"What are you doing here so late?" You nibbled at your own lip. Carmen, even from across the room, made sure to follow the movement. You noticed him eye the rag in your hands.

"I was just cleaning off some of the umm ... some of the tables." You didn't know why you sounded so embarrassed. You also didn't know what was going through Carmen's mind as he looked over you, and then over the spotless tables behind you.

"Wow," he began, running a hand through his hair. "You really didn't have to do all this. It's not ... it's not part of your job, you know?" A feeling bitter and stale simmered inside of you.

"I know." You stood up straighter. "Maybe I just wanted to.

You wanted to say more in the moment, tell him all of your frustrations, but you didn't. You just stared back at him and watched as he walked towards where you stood by the tables. You didn't move an inch.

His eyes surveyed the tops of the tables and he marveled at how clean they were. Not just clean, but almost sparkling, even in the low lighting that came from a single overhead lamp and the streetlights from outside.

"You did a great job, Chef."

Your eyebrows raised unintentionally. He'd never called you that before, though you'd heard the name from his lips aimed at others countless times. He noticed your reaction.

"What?" He asked, eyeing you curiously. He leaned back against the table next to you, his beautiful stare almost becoming a little too much for you after a long day. You shrugged.

"Nothing. It's just," you paused, "you've never called me that before."

His expression was slightly confused, slightly amused. "Well," he began, gaze shifting from the ground to you. "Now I do. You work here, don't you?"

The question settled uncomfortably in your chest, and you let out a laugh that sounded just as strained. "Hardly."

Carmen's eyebrows flashed downwards in a quick frown. "What do you mean 'hardly'?" You felt his eyes scanning your face, scanning you. "What's up?"

You went back to rubbing at the corner of a nearby table with your rag if only to distract yourself from Carmen's gaze and the petty way your words sounded coming from your lips.

"I mean," you began. "It feels like I haven't really done much of anything around here, you know?" When he didn't say anything back, you continued. "I've only taken a handful of customer's orders in the past couple of days. And, I know I'm not the best cook in the world but I could definitely help out in the kitchen with something. Maybe I could cut up some stuff, or prep it, or whatever you guys call it. Anything, really."

He didn't say anything right away, and you became horrified that you'd pushed his buttons too many times in the last week with your rants and that he'd finally send you on your way once and for all. Then, you heard something like a laugh come from him. You reeled back.

"Is something funny?" You asked, your tone uncharacteristically sour. He silenced his amusement and looked at you intently.

"You've always been such an overachiever, Mars."

You paused, then shook your head. "Oh please, we all know you're the ambitious one."

"No, not when we were kids," Carmen argued. "I was never great in school. You, on the other hand," he chuckled under his breath. "My mom would have me go check in on you whenever we hadn't heard from you on a night before a test. Make sure you weren't overdosing on coffee and pop."

You swore you could feel your heart beating in your chest at Carmen's revelation and the fondness in his voice.

"You know," Carmen began again, getting lost in memories. "I think my mom used to have this theory I'd marry you one day or something. Said you were the only girl who'd put up with my stubbornness."

Oh my God. Your head was spinning. Why was he saying this? He didn't know what the hell he was doing to you. Or your heartbeat, which was concerningly gaining speed. He never did.

All you could say was, "Oh?"

He laughed some more like this was something casual, something funny. You couldn't help but notice that forever present weight present in his eyes, though. Something he could never seem to shed.

"Yeah, well," Carmen began again, "my mother has also been mentally unstable for years, so." He jokingly trailed off, his voice dying in the silence, along with any butterflies you'd felt. You laughed quietly, even if laughing was the last thing you wanted to do when hearing that.

You felt like you were being suffocated. By him and his blue eyes and his dry, self-deprecating jokes and the small quirk of his lips. You were also getting restless because you'd started off trying to talk with Carmen about your job, and now were getting lost in the haze of your feelings for him which you decided were useless and would get you nowhere. You cast them aside the best you could and looked him directly in the eyes.

"Carmen," you said. His attention focused directly on you. "Did you listen to any of the things I said about working here?"

He nodded. "Yeah," he assured you. "Of course."

"So, will you take them into consideration? Let me do more, Carmen. I can do more."

There was a beat of silence. He fidgeted, like he did when he was a boy and couldn't focus in class, or when he was nervous around a girl he'd liked. Nervous around you.

He wanted to say yes. Hell, he would've given you anything you'd asked for just to see you happy. But he didn't know what the consequences of giving you a more important role at The Beef would achieve. What it might stop you from achieving. What it might do to him. So, he didn't say anything. Not anything direct.

"I know you can, Mars." He exhaled and then put his hands in his pockets, eyes cast down. He glanced at his watch. "It's almost midnight. We can talk about this more in the morning. Okay?"

His response was like a smack in the face. A sharp pain that left a dull ache. You let a breath out and tried to keep your face from revealing your stubborn frustration. You slowly nodded. "Okay."

Even if you tried to contain your emotions, Carmen could see it. He noticed it in the quick flare of your nostrils as you breathed, in the slight clench of your jaw. Stupidly, he asked, "Is that okay?"

You weren't looking at him. You were looking at your feet. You tapped your foot once. "Yes."

Even more stupidly, he asked, "Are you sure?"

You finally shifted your focus to him and he felt his own jaw clench at the way it sent a rush down his spine.

"Yeah, Carmen." That was the first time he didn't like the way you said his name.

"Alright," he said, nodding slowly, lifting his bag higher on his shoulder.

"Alright."

You lifted the rag from the table, stood there for a second, and walked towards the counter, where you wrung it out and slapped it down into a bucket full of other dirty rags, and left it there. You didn't feel much like putting it away.

Carmen hadn't moved and just stood there by the tables, watching as you collected your coat from behind the counter and turned off the lights as you walked past.

When he saw you walking towards the door, he rushed to get there first, to open it for you. You beat him to it, opening it yourself. He closed it and locked the door behind him. You both were engulfed by the dull chill of the air right away, and you couldn't help but shiver.

Carmen turned to you. "Let me drive you home." He didn't dare offer you a lighthearted smile or anything of that sort. He didn't think he had it in himself to be lighthearted, anyways.

You gifted him a polite one with a short tug of your lips. "I have a car. Thanks."

Carmen could've smacked himself right there. "Right." He didn't know what was wrong with him. "Sorry." The apology was for more than just his assumption, but he couldn't bring himself to clarify.

"I'll walk you to your car then?" He asked, though you knew no matter what you said he'd make sure you'd get to your car safely either way.

"Okay, yeah."

You both turned to walk to your car, Carmen letting you take the lead for a moment before catching up to walk side by side with you. You were hit with the reality that Carmen Berzatto was walking you to your car, alone with you, at midnight. A small gesture that had your mind buzzing from the contrast between your love for him and your frustration with him. Nobody had come close to making you feel the emotions Carmen made you feel, even if no words were shared between both of you on that short walk. It felt completely silent. Somehow, even if the streets of Chicago were anything but, it felt silent.

Carmen thought about how his life was full of silent moments, never saying what he truly wanted to, to the people he wanted to speak to the most. When he noticed you were cold, even through your jacket, he walked a little closer to you. Whether you noticed it or not, he didn't know, but at least it soothed a small part of his mind that was blaring that night, telling him that he'd fucked up with you. That you deserved better. He couldn't help but think that same thing when he was around you, all the time.

You'd both crossed the street to reach your car in not even a full minute, but the walk had felt eternal to you. When you turned to Carmen to tell him goodnight, he was already looking at you intently. You wanted to ask what he was thinking, but you didn't, and unlocked your car.

"See you in the morning, Carmen," you said, tone unrevealing. He gave you his best neutral smile.

"Yeah. See you, Mars."

You went to open your car door, but this time he beat you to it. Even if he made you angry, he was still Carmen.

You watched as he rounded the front of your car back to the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, soft breathing visible in the cold from the white puffs it made in the air as he breathed.

You gave him one last wave as a goodbye, but by that time he was pretty much out of vision, and then drove away.

He watched your car drive down the street, stop at the light, turn the corner, and then glide out of view.

Immediately, he knew he should've said more on the walk to your car. He should've at least apologized. He didn't tell you that he was sorry for being so shitty. He didn't tell you he appreciated everything you did. He also didn't tell you his car was parked on the opposite end of the street.

And as he walked back to it, crossing The Beef again with its spotless tables, he thought about nothing except you.

The next morning had you waking up with a headache that only worsened when you stepped foot into The Beef. Your coworkers were shouting and blurting out orders in typical kitchen lingo that you honestly didn't fully understand.

There seemed to be an underlying tension simmering in the air that morning that had everyone's voices raised just a little bit more than usual, echoing through to you from your designated spot behind the front counter.

You figured out soon that that tension came from the review of The Beef that had been put in the paper the night before. It was the same topic that had Sydney and Richie arguing back and forth for minutes on end next to you.

"So this is a war on poor people?" You heard Richie ask as you finally tuned back into their yelling. "I see you."

"No," Sydney yelled back. "This is a war on you shutting the fuck up and learning how to use the tablet! The end dude."

"What is the end?"

You turned to your left to see Carmen stride out of the kitchen, looking every bit intense, shoulders hunched and rigid. He glanced at you in some form of a greeting for only a second before putting himself between Richie and Sydney and somewhat settling their argument.

"Are we ready?" He asked them with a rushed tone.

"No!" Sydney snapped, but headed back into the kitchen with Richie, even if you could see she wanted to punch the man in the face.

You turned back around to watch Carmen as he hurriedly ran a hand through his hair and started to rush back into the kitchen. You tried to catch his eyes, but he didn't meet your gaze.

"Um, Chef?" You tried to call, reaching out an arm to get his attention just a hair too late, him brushing past you without taking notice of you.

"Carmen?" This time he turned around, head flipping around to focus on you with eyes shot wide in the rush.

"What's up?" He asked, eyes quickly assessing your face. For a second you forgot what you were supposed to be asking.

"Did you, um, think about what I said last night?" He blinked back at you. "You said we'd talk about it in the morning, so, could we maybe talk about it?"

With the way he stared back at you, for a second you could've sworn he'd forgotten what you were talking about. Then, it had clearly dawned on him and he squeezed his eyes shut for a second, holding out a hand to his head.

"No, yeah, right." He thought for a second, and then looked around, peeking into the kitchen, attention clearly spread elsewhere.

"Sorry," he said quickly. "Can we just ... talk about this another time?"

You tried not to show your frustration. "Like when?"

"Uh," Carmen started, but he was already backing into the kitchen. A loud clanging noise of pots and pans rang through to the front, and his focus was completely lost. "Who the fuck keeps denting my pans, Chefs?!" He shouted. He threw the kitchen door open and moved to go inside, but not before calling out "We'll talk later, Chef!" and disappearing into the kitchen.

You groaned. "Later," could mean any time between that day and Easter. You didn't want to blame Carmen. You knew he was extremely busy and tended to overwork himself. But something in the back of your mind told you he was avoiding you. You didn't like the feeling.

It'd only been maybe an hour into the day when all hell started to break loose in the kitchen. At least from what you could hear. There was three times as much yelling as usual and people were weaving through the station by the front counter and the kitchen, shouting sandwich orders. Meanwhile, you felt lost and unhelpful, with no direct answer as to what was going on.

You'd spent your time filling up the napkin dispenser and cutting green tape, feeling your uselessness in your bones. Maybe Carmen was right. Maybe you were overly ambitious. That didn't change the fact that now it seemed like not just Carmen, but everyone else had gone out of their way to keep you away from the kitchen.

You'd thought about going in there anyway, but thought better of it when listening to the commotion. That was, until you saw Marcus with his bags taking his leave towards the exit, a look of both anger and defeat on his face.

"Woah, Marcus," you called out with furrowed brows. "What's wrong? Where are you going?"

He let out a quick breath from his nose that sounded like it was supposed to be a wry laugh. He pointed towards the back. "Anywhere but in that kitchen." You frowned and he shook his head. "He's losing his shit, man."

You were confused and looked to him for more of an explanation, but he was already walking out the door and it didn't seem like he had any plans of coming back. You wanted to ask him "who?", but you had a sinking feeling in your gut telling you that you already knew just who he meant.

That and the loud "Fuck!" that came from the other side of the wall was the last push you needed to finally storm into the litchen. As soon as you walked in, it was a complete overload to your senses. The sounds and smells of sizzling food, the clunky buzzing of timers, and an argument at practically every corner. What had you reeling to a stop, though, was the sight of Carmen shouting truly throat-tearing orders, face turning red with exertion, hair damp from sweat, skin gleaming in the sight.

"Can somebody get me a Sharpie that fucking works?!" he screamed while whipping a Sharpie out of his hand and onto the ground. Your eyes widened at the sight.

"Woah," you said aloud, not even meaning to say the word but being unable to stop yourself. When you did, Carmen's focus switched onto you in a second and you could see the pure chaos held behind his eyes.

"Wh- what the fuck are you doing in here?"

You frowned at his abruptness. "I just wanted to know what the hell is going on in here-"

"Nothing is going on in here."

Someone laughed from around the corner and about three more timers began to buzz and beep.

"Oh please, I've been hearing screaming for hours and then I see Marcus storming out of here with his things saying you've lost it."

At that, Carmen paused, eyes searching yours intently. "Marcus left?"

"Yeah," you answered steadily, unsure of how exactly he'd react. "It looked like he was quitting."

For a second, it looked like Carmen felt guilty, sad, but then he was fuming and slamming his hands down on the counter.

"Fuck!" He shook his head back and forth like he was rummaging through a thousand thoughts swirling around his head. He shouted again. "Fuck!"

You didn't like the sight before you, or the way Carmen seemed to be losing control of himself, and quickly. "Now can you tell me what the problem is?" You almost pleaded. "I could help."

Carmen hardly bothered to look you in the eyes and strode past you to reach the oven you'd been standing by, lifting the lid of a pot and adjusting the heat at lightning speed.

"You're not seriously ignoring me right now when I'm offering to help-"

He put up a hand. "I told you I'd talk with you later, Mars. Go back to the register."

You scoffed. "What the hell are you talking about? That's-" you shook your head. "I'm not leaving until I at least know what the fuck is going on."

"You wanna know what the fuck is going on?" Richie shouted out, laughing to himself loudly as he appeared from behind the corner. "Some moron left the pre-order option open on her beloved tablet overnight and now we're 250-something beefs behind schedule!"

Your head was spinning from the news and from the lack of air in the kitchen, but the yelling kept coming.

"Okay, well, the 'moron' is right here and she has a name, thank you," cut in Sydney, livid. "And there is no fucking way you are putting all the blame on me right now, Richie-"

"Who else's fucking fault is it sweetheart?"

"Richie, I swear to God if you call me that one more time-"

"Shut the fuck up!" Carmen's booming voice split the two of them apart. "Shut the fuck up and get back to work!"

They listened and went back to their stations angrily mumbling to themselves. That didn't change the fact that you knew the kitchen was in deep shit and Carmen was one wrong move away from losing his mind. You watched as he stormed around the kitchen to different stations. You'd be an idiot if you just stood at the register waiting for more nonexistent orders.

"Sydney," you called out as she passed by. "What can I do to help?"

She raised the corners of her lips in a slightly surprised smile and thought for a second.

"You can probably start by helping me with peeling these potatoes for now." She handed you a basket filled with potatoes and pointed towards a metal peeler on the counter. You quickly nodded.

"Okay, on it, Chef."

"Great. Oh, and-"

"Sydney, what the fuck are you doing?" yelled Carmen as he rounded the corner behind Sydney. He glanced angrily back and forth between you and the potatoes in your hands.

Sydney rolled her eyes. "What does it look like I'm doing, Chef? I'm getting us some very much necessary extra help."

"We don't need any fucking extra help right now!"

Sydney turned fully to face him. "Carmy what the fuck is your problem right now? Just let her fucking peel some potatoes!"

Carmen was breathing heavily, a vein in his neck visibly contracting."I told you guys she stays out front. I told everyone she's not supposed to-"

"Excuse me?" You asked, cutting in. He was talking about you like you weren't standing right behind Sydney, hearing his every shouted word. "Sydney's right. You need to stop getting so worked up about this!"

Carmen looked like he wanted to scream. To break out into shouts even louder than even those from this morning. You'd only seen Carmen worked up like this a few times before and even then he knew when he was taking things too far.

He didn't say anything back to you and just turned away.

"Someone just get her out of here!" He hollered, to anyone who'd listen. Anyone but you. Somehow, that was even more angering than his yelling.

"Hey!" You yelled, shoving his shoulder back to turn him to face you. He glanced down towards the same shoulder before looking back towards you. You saw something haughty flash behind his eyes as they stared back at you. "Whatever you need to say about me, you can say it to me, Carmen."

He was definitely speaking to you now.

"I need you to stay the fuck out!" He pointed a finger down at you. "You never fucking listen to me! I gave you this job because you fucking asked me to, because Richie fucking asked me to. So how about you finally listen to me and stay the fuck out?!"

You knew everyone had stopped to watch. It was quieter in the kitchen than it had been all morning.

You both stood standing there with heavy breathing. Your mind couldn't think of what to say back in that moment, but a thousand different responses played through your mind. Things you wanted to ask, to shout, to make sure he understood.

Your stare bore into Carmen's own for a few seconds, noticing the anger in them, but also something fragile threatening to shatter and reveal itself. He looked away from you quickly, bracing a hand on the counter.

"Leave, Chef." He said. You didn't need to be asked twice. Not that he was asking.

"Yeah," you laughed under your breath. You untied your apron and left it on the counter. "I definitely will."

He could call you Chef, but he wouldn't even let you enter the kitchen. He could yell at you, but he couldn't even look you in the eyes as you finally left the kitchen.

Another timer went off in the background as Carmen stood there, mulling over what he'd just done in his head; the one thing, most of all, he didn't want to happen.

Sydney shook her head, brushing past him. "Carmen Berzatto, you are a fucking idiot."

He didn't have anything to say, nothing to argue back with. He knew she was right. And as he heard the front door jingle as a sign of you leaving, he also knew just how badly he'd fucked up.

You didn't come to work the next day, or the day after that. Carmen never got to listen for the jingle of the doorbell as you came into work. He didn't get a single glimpse of you, those glimpses that were like caffeine shots, keeping him going every day. He didn't see your warm, familiar eyes that reminded him why he kept going in the first place. This was what he got for trying to keep you at arm's length. For being an asshole. The regret knawed at him painstakingly.

When the first hour went by and you didn't show up, he didn't need anyone to tell him that you wouldn't come into work that day. He had Richie cover the register in your place, an order shouted quickly as he was forced to think about things other than you. And as the day went on, the fact that he didn't know when he'd see you again was a heavy weight that lay in his chest, waiting to be addressed.

You awoke that morning in your apartment, phone lighting up beside you on your bedside table to four missed calls all from the same person. A person you didn't really feel like talking to much.

You checked the time and saw it was almost noon. It wasn't like you to sleep in. And, you hadn't called in sick to work. Not that it mattered.

The next day went the same. You hadn't called in sick that morning either, but you didn't have it in you to care. You didn't even know if you wanted to come back, but there was a twisting feeling inside of you that you knew wouldn't feel release until you settled things with Carmen. The hard part would lay in being upfront with him, not letting him make any excuses, and not letting yourself soften all because he was Carmen Berzatto. A battle between your pride and whatever you felt for him.

Carmen had called you two more times, but soon, the calls stopped coming. Carmen may have been an asshole at times, but he wasn't an idiot. In fact, he was extremely smart. And definitely smart enough to know that calling you repeatedly would get him nowhere, not when he'd been as awful as he had.

You'd spent the day driving around running errands that left you tired with boredom. The sun was setting as you walked back to your own front door, the air crisp and clear from the cold while your mind felt anything but. You reached your front doorstep and unlocked the entrance to your apartment, only to step forward and feel something crunch and mash underneath the heel of your shoe. You lifted your foot and glanced downward.

A candy bar. You peered down further. A Mars Bar.

Something inside of you paused. Maybe your heartbeat, maybe your thoughts. You weren't sure but you could feel it. The now half-smushed candy bar lay on the floor like a bittersweet memory.

You blinked. There was a note. It looked like it had been torn from the corner of something messily. More importantly, there was writing on it, in pencil, words pressed hard into paper.

I'm an asshole. You don't deserve that.

No name, but you knew who it was from. Not a "sorry" in sight, but you knew he was trying. You could almost feel the intent behind the words etched into the paper as you held it. You wanted to be furious still. And you definitely were mad. But maybe not as much. Because you knew Carmen.

You knew he had the temper of someone who'd just lost a brother, of someone who'd grown up in a screaming Berzatto household in the heart of Chicago. You'd never taken his outbursts to heart and you didn't want to now. Besides. You knew, eventually, you'd miss him too much to ignore him.

So much for not giving in to Carmen Berzatto.

You didn't really know what plan you had when you walked back towards your car, sat down, placed the chocolate bar and note in your bag, and drove. You didn't think you had one. You just were aware that your days away from The Beef had been extremely boring and that you wanted to see Carmen. To hear what he had to say to you. Even if it didn't end the way you wanted.

The familiar path to The Beef stretched before you now as an uncertain one. When you got there, you tossed your bag over your shoulder and got out of your car to the sight of the lights off in the front of the restaurant. But, if you knew anything about Carmen, you knew he'd stay late. Your assumption was proven right when you entered through the unlocked door—a slightly concerning fact—and saw the harsh white light of the kitchen flooding through to the rest of the place.

You hesitated to enter, not sure if you really knew what you were doing, but ignored the thoughts plaguing you and walked carefully into the kitchen, waiting at the door when you saw him.

He faced mostly away from the door, from you, hunched over the counter doing something that had his full focus, enough of it that he didn't notice you at first. You saw he had a toothbrush in hand and that he was determinedly scrubbing at the silver countertop surface that already sparkled spotlessly. Clearly, he didn't notice or care.

It felt like you were holding your breath as you watched him, saw how focused he was, how the muscles in his back flexed and churned with each precise movement he made as he scrubbed at a nonexistent stain. Like he held a desire to erase more than just grime.

He did that for what felt like another minute without pause, and you watched the whole time wordlessly, not wanting to break the focus he had and not knowing what to say regardless. Part of you just wanted to watch him, to see how long he could keep at it without noticing you. It wasn't for too long.

He lifted his posture upright and ran a hand through his hair, inhaling deeply with little exhale as if something weighty was plaguing him. Then, he finally sensed your presence at the doorway, eyes flicking towards you as his moments came to a halt. You watched him part his lips as he thought about what to say.

He shakenly said your name, a fragile plea. The word was soft coming from his lips like he knew it well, but nestled in your brain with surprise as he called you by your real name, not just a nickname. You didn't know what to say, so you didn't say anything at all.

As he looked at you standing in the doorway, he felt exposed, like you could see through any walls he'd tried to build around himself. Words faltered from his brain. His lips parted again as if he was going to say something more, but they shut just as quickly and he ran a hand over his chin. He gestured that hand out to you.

"You uhm- did you get my note?"

You stared back at him for a beat before nodding and reaching into your bag. You held the note out in front of you, the side of your mouth quirking upwards. "Was this Carmen language for 'I'm sorry' ?"

You were half kidding and half serious, a test hidden in your words. The fact weighed on Carmen's brain, his demeanor more nervous than usual, more anxious.

"Yeah, uhm," he scrunched his eyes closed for a half second before walking towards you, taking the note from your hand and reading it to himself again, feeling the warm haze of shame creeping up on him. "Let me translate."

He read it once more. "Well, the 'I'm an asshole,' is pretty verbatim. I'm an asshole, and an idiot, and a bunch of other bad things." He glanced up at you from the paper and was relieved to see that you seemed at least a little amused. He continued. "And the 'You don't deserve that', you see, that's the good part, it translates directly to 'I'm sorry for yelling at you ' and 'it doesn't matter how stressed I was, I shouldn't have taken it out on you. That was wrong of me. And ... you're great.' "

Your eyebrows raised. "That's quite the translation."

Carmen laughed to himself breathily, but it held little amusement. "Yeah, I've been told communicating with me is like trying to tame a wild animal."

You smiled. "Who told you that?"

"Sugar."

Your laugh was warm and sounded like home. It was a feeling that left as fast as it came because soon the air between the two of you seemed to thicken with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. The heavy silence lay bare and neither of you decided to fill it right away.

"Carmen."

The way you said his name sent shivers down his spine, a sensation that never ceased to affect him. He nodded at you, eyes studying your face showing that you had his sole attention.

"I know you don't like the idea of me being here. You don't have to try and hide it." His eyes widened as you spoke."But, could you at least tell me why?"

He stared back at you, brows furrowed like he was confused. It was like you could see the gears turning in his brain as he fought to find the right wording, revealed by the stiffening mass of his shoulders that never seemed to relax.

"I don't not like you being here, Mars Bar." He spoke slowly. "I think it's great that you're back in Chicago. I ... We've missed you."

A subtle warmth lay in his gaze, but you couldn't help but feel it was dimmed by whatever emotion he'd been suppressing, the battle evident in flickers in the blue of his eyes.

"I want to believe that, but with the way you've been avoiding me, how can I?"

"Avoiding you- that's," he shook his head, almost seeming incredulous, and you watched as he swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing as he did. "I haven't been trying to avoid you."

You didn't know how he could sound surprised, how you could've interpreted the way he's acted all week as anything else. "Well that's definitely what it's felt like when I tried talking to you all week, and you're just ... I don't know, dismissive."

He rubbed a hand at the nape of his neck, focus pitched somewhere that wasn't at you, jaw tightening slightly. "I just ... it's busy around here trying to bring in enough money, and there have been a lot of different things that have my focus right now," he started, as if he hadn't, time and time again, had to remind himself to stop thinking about you.

"Carmen, I know you're busy but that-," you tried to keep your emotions from showing through your voice, but you were aware of the tinge of frustration that was slipping through. "I know that's only part of it. I just need you to be more transparent with me. I can't read your mind."

He nodded, silently thanking God that you couldn't. He swallowed again and you noticed a tremor in the way he held the note he'd written, a sign of unease that he quickly hid in the pocket of his jeans.

"I'll tell you anything you want to know." His blue eyes stared into yours, though you could sense the reluctance in his voice. "But I'm not gonna lie and say that I think it's a good idea for you to stay here."

You felt yourself frown, brows tugging downwards in frustration and confusion. "Why?"

His gaze faltered for just a moment, seeming torn, but he was quick to regain his momentum. "This place is ... it's not meant for someone like you."

You squinted at him, feeling a mix of disbelief and irritation. "Someone like me?"

"Yeah, I just mean," he hesitated, hearing the way you repeated his words, like they were meant to insult. "You were supposed to leave here and finish your studies abroad and achieve great things. Things bigger and better than this shit hole. You were gonna-"

"Carmen, stop." You almost scoffed to yourself. "My plans were always to stay close to home. A few months abroad weren't gonna change that." The air in the room seemed to thicken with the weight of the words you both shared, the thoughts never said allowed before. You noticed your breathing was becoming labored as you failed to understand the way Carmen's mind worked, the way he tried to communicate so much by doing so little.

"This whole time you were worried about me supposedly being meant to achieve great things, but what about you?" You let out a stunned laugh. "You're the one who studied with the best of the best, traveled all over, became a world-class chef and everything else, and now you're overworking yourself at this place and refusing help."

"Yeah, well, that part of my life stopped when Mikey gave this place to me as a final fuck you, so."

Your heart twinged not only at the name, but at the way Carmen's eyes flashed with hurt while his words could've cut stone.

"Mikey gave this place to you because he trusted you," you reasoned. You tried to make him come down from wherever he was, to detach himself from the hurt and open up. The hard plane of his shoulders lifted once in a shrug, with a small shake of his head as he stared at the ground.

"Yeah well, he just ended up fucking screwing me over."

Carmen's frustration seeped into his voice, the way he emphasized each word like he wanted to release whatever was simmering under the surface. You wanted to reach out, tell him that he could, but you held yourself back and stood up taller.

"That doesn't mean you should push people away from this place. Push me away. I could help out here. I saw how hectic it was the last time I was here and-"

"That day was a fluke," Carmen cut you off. "It's not usually like that..." his jaw worked. "I'm not usually like that." His words were laced with exasperation and a little bit of shame. You could tell he was struggling to keep his emotions in check.

"Carmen, I understand. But-"

"I already blew up at you." His voice cut into the air harshly. He looked away, his chest rising as he tried to control rising frustration. "I didn't mean to do that, I don't... I'm not gonna let that happen again." His words were starting to come out in a rush, escaping his control, something you knew never sat well with him.

"Well, that's my choice to make, Carmen, not one that you can make for me."

"Mars, The Beef isn't- you don't want to settle for this place, just trust me."

"How can I trust you when you've done nothing but push me away since I got here?" You heard the tremble that was growing in your own voice, a mix of hurt and anger. "You've told me a million times what I want and don't want. Have you ever stopped to ask me what I wanted? Seen my point of view?"

Carmen's breathing was picking up too, the crystals that were his eyes looking at you with a mixture of defiance and desperation. He ran a hand over his face.

"I've tried to see your point of view."

"Have you?" you snapped back.

"I gave you the job even though I knew it was a bad idea, I went against what I knew just because it was you and I let Richie convince me it was a good idea, and I am fucking done listening to Richie's ideas-" his breathing was becoming uneven as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him.

"Hey, Richie's done a lot more to help me since I've gotten back than you have, and a lot more listening!" Now you were yelling, and he was yelling and you didn't like the direction this was going.

"Yeah, well did Richie tell you this place was hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt when Mikey gave it to me? Did he tell you we probably couldn't even afford to pay you a decent fucking salary?"

You opened your mouth, expecting to be equipped with a response as fast as the ones that came before, but that didn't happen and you didn't say anything. You let your eyes scan Carmen, searching for a hint that he wasn't serious, but he looked wholeheartedly sincere and angered. In fact, he looked like he was fighting to even breathe steadily.

You looked at him concernedly, taking a step closer, but he just continued, laughing to himself without joy. "He didn't fucking tell you. Of course not."

His breaths were harsh, coming from his nose and lifting his chest repeatedly. His arms slapped down at his sides, hands trembling. "See, that's why I fucking told him I didn't want you anywhere near this crap hole, I fucking told him-"

His yelling stopped. He recoiled, backing up into the counter recklessly, a pot falling behind him with a clang that had you flinching. His vision was pointed downwards towards the ground, but he was frowning so hard you were sure he couldn't see anything at all, hand to his chest, gripping.

"Carmen?" You asked, alarm suddenly overtaking you and washing away whatever anger had been bubbling inside of you. "Wh- are you okay?"

It took him a second to even process what you'd said, another to respond. "I'm fine, I-" you put a hand on his shoulder to brace him, feeling how tense it was, feeling it trying to move with the effort of his shallow breaths. Panic, shame, embarrassment, everything, seemed to claw at his chest, constricting his breathing even more. "I just- fuck, I can't- I can't-"

"You can't breathe," you said, understanding what was going on now with another flash of alarm that you hid, trying to stay calm. He nodded shakily.

"Carmen," you said steadily. To him, the sound of your voice was distant, overshadowed by the sound of his heart pounding loudly in his ears, muffled the way voices sounded when from underwater. Carmen knew he wasn't underwater. You called his name again, and he did his best to hear it. "You're having a panic attack."

He managed to shake his head again. "I'm fine. I just- shit." His legs practically gave out from underneath him and he braced one hand on the table behind him, one on your shoulder.

The sight of Carmen collapsing to the ground had you wanting to release a sob, but instead, you threw Carmen's arm around you and somehow managed to take two steps towards a bucket that was on the floor against a near wall and got him to sit down on it unsteadily.

You took both of his hands in yours, noticing how his shoulders shook, how the bottom of his neck tinted red from the straining effort to breathe.

"Carmen," you called, kneeling down to his level and giving his hands a squeeze. His vision was blurred, staring downwards, but the hazy sight of his hands wrapped up in yours gave his mind a moment's peace before he was struggling to focus again.

You took a deep breath in, feeling selfish that you even could. "Carm, do your best to look at me." You purposefully slowed your words, spoke softly and clearly, and Carmen heard. You took one hand and rested it by his cheek, hair pooling into your fingers. You brushed it back, and ran your thumb across the rise of his cheekbone, lifting his face to look upwards at you. Even when his mind could hardly form coherent thoughts, your touch still affected him like no one else's.

Once his eyes were on you, you took the hand that was still holding his and placed both on your own chest, covering the area of warm skin close enough to feel your heartbeat. A tremor rolled through him, at your hand, at the way you felt, at your touch.

You. You were here, he thought, and that was a comfort to him in itself.

"Here," you said, pressing down gently but firmly on his hand. "Can you feel my heartbeat?"

Carmen tried, really tried, but his head wasn't focusing no matter what he did. You noticed his struggle right away, like he didn't even have to form words for you to know.

Hurriedly, you took off your jacket and threw it to the ground beside you. Carmen heard the sound of a zipper before his hand was taken in yours again and placed on your chest. This time, the underside of his hand felt warmer, closer to you, to skin.

"How about now?" you asked. His eyes were shut, and he really did his best to focus this time, tune into you, into the way your chest moved up and down beneath his hand, and with it, he heard the soft and steadying rhythm of your heartbeat.

"Yeah, I- I feel it."

You let yourself smile slightly, trying to take slow and deliberate breaths. "Carmen, I need you to do your best to match your breathing with mine." You looked at him and the way his features were scrunching with the effort of trying to listen to you. "Can you do that for me?"

He nodded. He'd do anything for you.

He focused on only his hand, yours, and you. Your chest underneath his palm, warm, and steadying, and alive. He felt it rise once, and fall, all in the time that he let out multiple staggering breaths.

The next time yours rose, he didn't let himself exhale until you did, taking in air from his parted lips and releasing it through his nose, feeling how the air spread thin throughout his body, a good feeling. He did that again, focused on the way his fingertips grazed bare skin, on the sound of your heart beating, in time with his now.

Behind the blank nothingness of his eyelids, scenes played out before him. Visions of his past, echos of familiar voices, spurts of color and light overtaking him.

Then, he thought of you, of the warmth of your gaze, even if he didn't deserve it. The shine of your skin, the way it looked soft even in the harsh light of the kitchen. Thoughts of you, you with him, years ago, months ago, and days, how he'd seen you for the first time in months, standing behind the counter with a smile sweet like the chocolate bars you'd always liked, the one he'd left at your doorstep, a weak attempt at salvaging one of the best relationships he'd ever known. He'd buy a million more if it meant you'd stay with him, by his side, like you'd been for years. Like you were now.

He didn't know how much time had gone by, but he opened his eyes and you were still there, still holding onto him, face looking calm but eyes swirling with emotion. With concern.

He felt fine now, his body having enough strength to support him, but he leaned into you regardless, head sunk down, resting in the place beneath your chin, on your chest. He wanted to get as close to your heartbeat as possible, not just feel it with his hand but surround himself with it.

You brought your hands up to envelop him, one resting on the white cotton covering the hard muscles of his back, rubbing it soothingly, the other coming up to rest in his hair again, gently brushing through the strands closest to the root as if to say I'm here, I have you.

You leaned your own head down to slightly rest on the back of his, mouth brushing against the crown of his head in a way so delicate he wasn't even sure he felt it. But you saw the way he melted into your touch, felt the way the muscles in his back slowly seemed to release tension at each caress. He needed to be held. But he was him, he'd never ask for it. But, you were you, and you'd always know.

You stayed like that for minutes more, though you would've held him all night if he needed it. When he sat back up, the whites of his eyes were tinted pink, and one of his cheeks was gleaming in the light, damp. You didn't comment on it. You didn't say anything at all but stood up from where you knelt and walked towards the counters, peeking underneath them until you found what you needed. You stopped at the sink and returned to your spot in front of Carmen with a plastic deli container filled with water in hand. You offered it to him wordlessly.

"Thank you," he said, taking it from you gingerly, but his voice was hoarse and he felt the red heat of embarrassment as he took large sips of the water, draining it halfway at once. A water droplet escaped from the side of the cup, dripping down his chin, and your eyes followed the movement until you felt guilty about it and stared down at your own hands. The two of you let the silence rest as it was, peaceful and healing, until you felt ready to break it.

"I'm sorry," you said, slightly a surprise for yourself to hear the words from your mouth, but you meant them. Carmen sat back up. "For pushing you to this point. I didn't mean to-"

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Carmen spoke quietly, voice somehow steady. "It- ... that wasn't your fault. It's happened before, when you weren't here."

You let your eyes scan over his face concernedly because he wasn't looking straight at you and you always felt the need to look after him, even if he wouldn't let you.

"This has happened before?" Carmen gave a weak shrug, like this wasn't something he thought about on his own, something he ever let occupy his focus.

"Something like it."

You made a breathy sound of disbelief. "Shit, Carmen."

So many thoughts were demanding your attention, too many. You wanted to tell him how this wasn't supposed to be a normal occurrence, how not okay it was to ignore his mental well-being. Shake him silly for never caring about the right things, for never caring about himself enough. To give him yet another lecture on letting you help him, on letting anyone help him.

"It wasn't as bad this time." His voice paused all your thoughts. "I think it was because you were here."

You didn't know how to respond, but he finally looked into your eyes and saw how much they spoke for you, how they widened, and then blinked once or twice, shying away. Almost like you were guilty, like you were sad. Something inside of him reminded him that he was probably part of the reason for that, and that ate away at him more deeply than any of his, like you said, panic attacks, ever had.

"I'm sorry, Mars."

Your eyes flicked up to his immediately, intention behind them. "You never need to apologize for having a panic attack, Carmen."

"No, for- for not just that." He paused. "For being an ass. For yelling at you. For not listening to you."

You looked at him wordlessly. You didn't want to say it was okay, because you'd be lying if you said that, if you didn't acknowledge how his words still rang sharply in your head. But you'd be lying to yourself if you didn't admit that Carmen certainly made things feel okay when he was calm like this, understanding. Peaceful.

"And I'm sorry for all the shit I gave you about not listening to me."

You let out a quick breath, almost a laugh. "To be fair, I ... didn't."

His heart seemed to swell at even just the hint of laughter that coated your voice.

"Yeah. You don't listen to me." He let the side of his mouth quirk up to match yours. "That's the thing I love about you." Internally he thought, just one of many.

You stared up at him. At the way his eyes seemed to look over your face in adoration. It did something to your heart, pulled on the strings of it, and left it panging in your chest. He noticed right away.

"You alright?" His concern and furrowed brows almost made you want to laugh.

"Yes I'm-," you exhaled. "I'm fine. The real question is, are you alright?" He watched as your eyes flitted all around his face. "To be honest, you don't seem it."

He self-deprecatingly chuckled. "Wow, thanks, Mars."

You shook his arm a little bit, expression disbelieving. "I'm serious."

You thought about how tense he'd been underneath your touch, how tense he'd seemed for the many days that you'd been back home. How that couldn't be healthy for anyone.

"You need to start taking better care of yourself, Carmen." You made sure he was hearing your every word. "Your mental health is important. More important than any job. You have to stop worrying so much about The Beef and start worrying more about you."

He ran a tired hand over his eyes, immediately feeling the urge to look away. "If I didn't put as much as I did into this place, I don't even think it'd still be up and running."

You let the words hang between the both of you for a moment, knowing how important this was to him. It was important to you too.

"I know how much you've done for this place, Carm." You took his hand in yours again. "You care about it a lot, always have. I have too. But you know the toll it's taking on you. That's not good for anyone, and it'll only last so long. And ... that's why I think you should take any help you can get, for now."

As soon as the topic left your lips again, you felt his hand stiffen in your hand, mouth opening to argue, but you held up a hand.

"And before you say anything, I don't care about the full salary, I don't I care about traveling, or 'wasting my potential' or any of that. I care about helping this place, making sure it lasts, for Mikey." You breathed. "And for you. I care about you."

He could feel his own heart start to race in his chest, flustered like he hadn't known you for years, like you weren't one of his oldest friends.

"I care about you too," he said, and the words felt shamefully foreign on his tongue, thinking about how little he'd ever actually said the words. "That's part of why it's hard for me to think about you working here. You mean a shit ton to me. More than anyone else in this damn place."

"You don't mean that." You couldn't stop the way your brows pushed together, looking down at your hand that was holding Carmen's rough and callused ones. "What about Richie, or Fak, or Sydney-"

"They mean a shit ton to me too, but it's ... not the same. You're you."

He looked into your eyes, trying to see if you'd recognized his hints, but he picked up emotions other than the realization. On a frown, on reluctance, on a guarded, shy look.

"I'll always be me, Carmen." You bit at the inside of your cheek, putting off the topic like you weren't important. That was a foreign idea to him. "That doesn't matter. What matters is you not accepting help."

You saw the way his demeanor shifted at your words, a sense of uncomfortableness settling in his bones, revealing itself in the way he sat up straighter. Your grip on his hands was still firm, unwavering, like all you wanted was to make him understand.

"Carmen," you called, but he was already staring at you. "Promise me that you'll let other people take care of you, help you get by. Let me help you."

He was grateful for the way he was positioned, elbows leaning on knees, hands held by yours, because it was stabilizing him, grounding him when he felt like running. He knew that if he wanted to keep you around, keep you by him, he couldn't do that. That didn't change the fact that this was new to him.

"I, um,"

"It doesn't have to all at once." You gave him a smile, a real one, because you knew he was trying. Breaking out of old habits, for you. "One step at a time."

You were back home. Him pushing you away in his head, running, but only in his mind, didn't change that. He didn't want it to. Despite the pull of his mind telling him to hold you at a distance, the push of his heart wanted you. It was drawn to the cradle of your hands, the warmth of your smile.

"I promise."

Your smile grew to a grin that tugged at the sides of your glowing eyes, eyes that sparkled with affection like they held a hidden invitation, a plea for him to let you in. He finally did, and he knew so fully that he would've made that promise to you time and time again if it meant he could have you and see that smile as much as he wanted.

Your fingers brushed the back of his hands as you stood up from where you were kneeling, letting out an exhale that he noticed sounded almost weightless, a change from the burdened way it sounded to him before. The thought put him at ease.

He stood up too, watching you as you retrieved your jacket and put it on, him feeling the urge to help you with even just that. When you focused back on him, the etches of a smile still lingering on your face, it was magnetic. He couldn't look away. You couldn't either.

You stared at the way a hundred different colors danced in the blue of his eyes, a miraculous feat that you'd loved from the start. As you looked at each other, eyes saying more than your mouths had the courage to, your smile grew slowly, heartbeat picking up in your chest.

"Let me walk you to your car," you coaxed, gesturing towards the door. He laughed at the random idea, breaths escaping through his nose.

"What? Why?"

You shrugged, smile and features and everything, warm. "Call it the first step to you fulfilling your promise to me."

Knowing how he'd iced you out, he embraced that warmth. Made it his new home. "Yeah," he nodded. "Okay."

You gestured for him to follow you, he did, and that was all he had to do. You turned off the lights behind the both of you, locked the door, and didn't ask him to do a thing, just to see the amused look on his face when you smiled at him, his eyes staring back at yours like you were a wonder, something rare to be loved and kept safe.

As you walked back to his car, that was all he could think about. How he'd come across this ray of light in his life that was you, and how you'd stayed by his side, a miraculous idea but he didn't even want to dwell on that too much because it took him away from this moment being shared between the two of you, alone, the cold nipping at your skin but it not mattering because too much had happened that night to care.

The moment seemed to come to an end all too quickly. Carmen had stopped once you'd both reached his car, and you did too. He became aware of the feeling of you next to him, savoring it because he knew it'd end the moment he got into his car.

"Carmy," you said, extending the moment just a little longer. He hummed in response, watching as you stuffed your hands in your coat pockets.

"Can you promise me one more thing?"

He nodded, not missing a beat. " Yeah, anything." Something inside of you fluttered. You cast it aside to hold his gaze.

"Promise me you'll always try and tell me what's going on in your head. No more hiding."

His eyes bore into yours like he was contemplating something, a flicker of conflict in them, a vulnerability that you didn't know what to think of. Then, it was gone and you weren't even sure you'd seen it.

"Yeah, I- um," his jaw tightened for a second. "I promise, Mars."

You patted him on the shoulder, a friendly gesture that felt phony even to you. "Great ... that's great."

He flashed a closed-mouthed smile and you both stood there on the sidewalk for a moment, not saying a word.

"Goodnight," you told him, because it was what you would've said to anyone else at that moment, ignoring the whispers in your mind telling you something was missing, that Carmen wasn't just anyone else.

Something tugged at him too, nagging him, insisting that he had more to tell you, more to say before the night was really over, before he had to go to work the next day and somehow navigate his day with the new promises he'd made you. But all he said was "Goodnight, Mars," before getting in his car with just a wave goodbye that felt bare and wrong.

You left him one more of your smiles through the passenger window of his car before walking off to wherever you'd parked your own. He was sure he'd felt butterflies. Butterflies.

Only you could do this to him. He'd felt numb, overwhelmed and unsatisfied all the same time for however long, and then you come back to Chicago and suddenly he felt everything, all the time. It was getting to him, clearly, because he found himself opening his car door and stepping out of it, losing control of his body, loosening his grip of rationality all because of you. Because he wanted to see you, needed to. He needed you.

You were a good distance away from his car by the time he'd gotten out of his, but you turned around at the sound of the car door practically slamming. You frowned, noticing Carmen walking towards you.

"Carmen?" you called into the night, confused. He caught up with you, something behind his gaze that had his eyes shimmering. You swore you could feel the delicate movement of his eyes across your face as soon as he was near enough to truly take it in.

He took hold of your hand, fingers interlocking with yours delicately, an electrifying feeling buzzing through you. You let out a small gasp at the contact, vision shooting down at the point at which you both touched, just a hand hold but the contact took your full focus.

"Hey," he said, something like a smile creeping onto his features and you'd never seen him like this, so exhilarated and full of delicate determination. You looked back up into his eyes, and he took a step closer, finally letting himself be pulled by that magnetic force calling him to you that he couldn't resist. He wouldn't, anyway.

"Wh-," you started, meaning to question him but the thought was brushed aside when he leaned inwards, his forehead falling against yours. His curls brushed against the top of your head, and you secretly loved the feeling, becoming breathless.

"You can tell me to stop, Mars." He murmured it so close to you, breath fanning onto your cheek in a distracting but addictive way, and suddenly you were forgetting how to talk. It didn't matter, because you didn't want him to stop. You looked back up at him, and he saw that in your eyes, so he didn't.

His lips brushed against yours, a taste of what he'd been wanting for longer than he could even remember. The feeling it sent throughout him was immobilizing, and he stayed like that, eyes shut, reveling in it.

It was you who closed the distance, pressing your lips to his and letting the dizzying wave from it spread all over you, to the tips of your fingers that immediately reached up to hold his firm shoulders, and to your brain that buzzed in joy and excitement and a bit of something else.

He froze up for a second when he felt your lips crashing into his. Your lips on his felt like the answers to all his problems, and he needed them in a burning, unignorable way. His brows furrowed and his hands reached up to cradle your neck delicately, holding you like you were more valuable than anything he could've bought, anything he could've wished for, could've imagined he could possibly have.

His lips tugged on yours and yours tugged back, a rhythm that felt easy to follow, like the deep thrum of a heartbeat. And when you both finally pulled apart for air, it was like you could still feel that rhythm, because your heartbeats were beating so loudly and in time with each other's that it felt like the moment was never meant to come to an end.

Your foreheads were still connected, and you knew neither of you had it in you to pull away. You felt somehow even more breathless.

"What was that for?" Your voice was soft, hoarse. You swore you saw Carmen's lip quirk upwards.

"I promised to not hide what was going on in my head." Your hands came up to delicately wrap around his biceps, impossibly solid underneath your fingertips. He didn't suppress the shudder that traveled through him. "Call that the first step."

You smiled, this time against his lips, and somehow that beat every single smile you'd ever given him before. It felt like a promise of your own, to share your warmth with him from now on. He liked the idea, a lot. He'd let you do it whenever you wanted, he liked it that much.

He'd let you take care of him whenever you wanted, too. Again and again, until you got sick of him. But he was Carmen Berzatto. You knew you never would.

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leviathanspain · 9 months

Note

Any Carmy x Reader where the reader is struggling emotionally but hides it well from Carmy (due to trying to open the new restaurant) until they slip up? Can be stress from work or even their own family drama they’ve kept from him. Thank you!

the perfect storm

carmy berzatto x reader

synopsis: you can’t bottle it all up forever, can you?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

your chest felt tight. you couldn’t take a deep breath no matter how hard you tried, and you were unconsciously pulling at the collar of your shirt, clearing your throat in hopes to find the ability to breathe. your eyes felt tight in their sockets, and your palms were sweaty. but you continued to slave away with prep, cutting vegetables to prepare for the big opening night.

you were trying hard to focus on your work, but your heart was practically pounding in your chest, and you were sweating more profusely. you dropped the knife suddenly, and tried to take a deep breath.

you clawed at your collar and began to unknot your apron. you needed to get out of here, and the knot wasn’t coming undone-

“hey, hey-“ the permanently impatient tone of voice that carmy had echoed into your ears. you blinked, and you felt his hands grab onto yours, holding them in place, “what’s wrong, chef?” he looked at you, and you felt him trying to hold your gaze but you were stuck looking ahead, still breathing heavy.

you realized just how silent the rest of the kitchen got and you huffed, pulling away from carmy, you ran out the back door, feet squeaking as they ran over the wet floor.

your hands slammed hard onto the wood of the back door, and you panted hard as you finally inhaled the fresh, crisp, chicago air. you brushed your stray hair from your face with a hand and tried to hold onto the relief you were getting.

but it began to slip away just as you heard footsteps. you turned quickly and saw carmen, his face concerned and his brows knitted together as he saw you.

you held your hands up, “stop. just, stop right there.” you brushed down the fabric of your apron, now loose around your waist from your previous attempt at removing it.

carmy neared you, and he sighed, “what the fuck was that?” his curls fell just slightly over his forehead, and normally you’d take the time to brush it out of his face, but you were frozen.

you shook your head, and silence fell upon you when you tried to form the words. you felt like crying, there was a big, welling knot in your chest that made you want to cry.

“y/n-“ his voice again broke your thoughts and you wanted to scream, “oh my god! i don’t know! i don’t fucking know what’s wrong with me, carmen! i don’t know why,” you sobbed, “i feel this way..”

there was another beat, where all he could do was stare at you, his hand motioning in a circle over and over again on his chest. you looked at him and nodded, “no. it’s nothing you did, don’t apologize..” you exhaled, and stepped away from him, trying hard to collect yourself. carmy followed you and you inhaled sharply, “my parents are getting a divorce.” you dug your phone out underneath your apron and from your jeans pocket, opening the text thread to show carmy.

carmy looked down at it and shrugged, “so fucking what? they’ve hated each other their entire marriage, it’ll be okay-“ he neared you but you stopped him, holding a hand up as you sniffled.

normally you wouldn’t have cared, had it been any other little thing. but this, “they’re my parents, carm. no matter who hates who or how much..” you inhaled, concealing a sob, “they’re my parents.” you felt like a little kid, embarrassed to be crying so hard after trying to bottle it up.

carmy patted your back, but you exhaled, “i just need a minute. mhm?” you sniffled, and carm nodded, but he didn’t move.

you looked at him, and raised an eyebrow, “a minute?” you repeated and carmen nodded, “yeah.” but he didn’t move.

you sighed, and realized what he was doing. finally, you stopped trying to push him away and walked over, holding your arms out as he took you in his.

he held you, his chin resting on top of your head, you sobbed quietly, “this isn’t fair..” you muttered, “i-“

his hand drew circles on your back, soothing you, “it’s okay, bug. it’ll be okay.” it had taken him a lot of learning and healthy habits to be able to comfort another person. in the beginning, you had to teach him how to be there for someone, and all those things he learned from you had boiled down to this moment.

he kissed your forehead, brushing his thumbs just over your cheeks, the tears going with, “we’ll talk about this later. just promise me that next time something happens-“ he paused, “you’ll stop bottling it up. hmm?” you pulled away and looked up at him.

your eyes felt puffy, but you nodded, “yes, chef.” and you went to hug him again, needing the warmth of carmy one more time before you went in.

#carmy berzatto #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x you #carmy angst #carmy smut #the bear #the bear angst #carmy the bear #carmen berzatto x reader

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animationmovieshipps · 7 months

Text

Goodbye Gift - Part 1/3 (OPLA Luffy x Reader)

Since you were younger, you used to read geography books about the four corners of the world and were amazed by how fascinating those places seemed, full of islands you'd never visited and exotic things you'd always dreamed of seeing in person.

It was always your dream to explore the incredible world you lived in, experience things you never had before, and learn new things about other cultures.

But unfortunately, you were forced to give up what you always dreamed of, when your mother died and you started helping your father in the family restaurant, which you would one day take over managing.

It would be very selfish of you if you left your father on that island alone, you weren't the only family he had, but you were still his daughter.

You pretended to him that your dream was nothing more than a silly childish thing, the last thing you wanted was for him to feel guilty for keeping you stuck on that island.

Seeing that a small group of people had arrived at the restaurant, the restaurant's cook stopped stirring the sauce pot and went to talk to you, who was distracted reading a book.

"Hey, new customers just arrived." He warned you, with the ladle in his hand, he accidentally dropped a drop of tomato sauce on your book.

You were outraged and it was no surprise, you had saved three salaries to buy that book.

"Do you have any idea how expensive that book is?!" You raged.

"Sorry, so sorry." He quickly apologized. "I'll manage to clean up, but someone has to go take orders now."

Still in a bad mood, you huffed and left the kitchen, while taking out your notepad and a pen from your apron.

You were afraid of being rude to a customer, as you had done before, but the angry frown on your face quickly disappeared when you laid eyes on one of the boys sitting at the table.

He seemed like the type of person who brought joy wherever he went. Moreover he was so handsome, and had such a bright smile that it made your heart flutter.

"Hey, if you want I can take their orders for you." Aisha, another waitress who was also your friend, asked.

"No!" You quickly denied it, which surprised her. You had never refused when someone offered to take orders in your place. "I mean, leave it to me, I have to work too."

She looked at the table where the group that entered was sitting and chatting and quickly understood your special interest.

"One of those cute boys caught your eye, huh?" She said in a suggestive tone of voice, lightly elbowing you.

"Shut up." You mumbled, ignoring her and went to the table.

You had to stop in the middle and take a deep breath to stay calm and not do anything that would embarrass you in front of the boy with the straw hat.

That wasn't the first time you had felt attracted to a client, but for some reason, none of the previous times compared to what you were feeling for him.

Flashing a smile, you walked over to the table where he was sitting, trying not to freak out when you saw him looking at you.

"Hello there, beautiful thing." The blonde boy hummed when he saw you. You looked at him and he blinked at you.

"Hello." You greeted him with disinterest. "Welcome to 'Tropical Flavor', can I take your orders or do you need some more time?"

"Oh." A young redhead raised her hand to indicate that she was the one ordering, before looking back at the menu. "I think I'll have the..."

You were about to write down her order, when you dropped the pen when you were startled by the loud noise the door made when it opened.

The reason was soon discovered, three threatening men entered, one of them had a gun, which he started pointing in all directions, which left customers terrified.

Except the last ones who arrived.

You picked up the pen from the floor and placed it with the notepad on the table, before approaching the man with the gun.

"Can I help you guys?" You asked with all the calm you had.

"Is she really talking civilly? To the bandits?" Nami asked in a loud whisper. "We have to do something..."

"No." Luffy quickly said, not taking his eyes off you for even a second. "Let's see what she does on her own. If things get serious, we'll intervene.”

Nami didn't believe what he said, but decided not to question it.

"Pass everything you have at the cash register and no one will get hurt!" He pointed the gun at you, trying to sound even more threatening than he already did.

"Okay, okay, nobody has to get hurt." You said, raising your hands to look like you were protecting yourself.

Waiting a second until he was distracted, as soon as you saw him look away from you, you quickly disarmed him and hit him with a punch to the face, which made him fall to the ground unconscious.

Realizing what had happened to the boss, the other two robbers who spread throughout the restaurant to take other clients hostage, soon came to his aid.

"Finally something interesting is happening here." You said, taking a defensive stance and preparing to fight again.

It wasn't difficult to defeat everyone else, they might be bigger and have more physical strength, but you were smaller and more agile and you knew how to use that to your advantage.

You received a round of applause for saving the restaurant from being robbed, while the last people who arrived were still dumbfounded that you had handled that situation alone. All but one.

"I knew she was a good fighter." He murmured, his interest in you growing even more after what had just happened.

"And we never doubted that." Nami joked.

You took some ropes from the pantry, tied the four of them together and asked one of the employees to go and tell the police.

Soon after, you returned to the table and took the notepad and pen back.

"Sorry for the delay." You apologized briefly. "Is everyone already ready to order?"

They placed their orders and you wrote down each one.

"I'll be right back with the drinks." You said, turning to head back to the kitchen. But you had to turn around again when you heard one of them shout your name.

The cute curly-haired boy smiled at you again. Until that moment you had never noticed how beautiful his eyes were, so big and bright, they seemed like they were looking straight into your soul.

"Name's Luffy." He introduced himself.

You smiled, even his name was cute.

"Nice to meet you then, Luffy." You said, before finally heading back to the kitchen, not knowing how you had managed to look away from him.

Timeskip...

After he and his group ate and paid the bill, they left, but Luffy remained in the restaurant, buying not very expensive drinks just so he could stay there, seeming to wait for the end of your shift.

Luckily for him and for you too, he didn't have to wait much longer. You looked at the clock hanging in the kitchen's wall and were happy to see that it was already 8 pm.

"Well guys, my time has come." You said, as you carefully took off your apron.

"Look how rushed she is to leave today." One of them said in a suggestive tone of voice, which made you groan in frustration when you saw that it was the beginning of yet another provocation.

"Does it have to do with a certain boy who didn't leave until now even after he finished eating?" Aisha joined.

"I hate you guys." You grumbled, as you went to the staff room.

"Oh stop, you love us." Aisha laughed.

You changed your uniform, which was basically a flowered blouse, pants and an apron, for the dress you arrived there in and let your hair down, which always needed to be tied in a bun to prevent your hair from falling into the food.

When he saw you again, this time with different clothes and hair down, the expression on his face suddenly changed. It felt like he was seeing a completely different person, but he knew it was you.

"Hey, wanna go somewhere else?" You asked him.

He smiled and got up from his chair, leaving some coins on the table to pay for the last glass of juice he had had.

You held his hand in yours and led him with you to the exit.

Across the street, there was an open bar on the beach. Whenever you left the restaurant, you would see people dancing to the loud music and drinking colorful cocktails from glasses decorated with pieces of fruit.

But it wasn't for you, you hated environments with loud music.

"Seems cool." Luffy commented to you, noticing you looking over there. "You wanna go there?"

"Honestly no." You replied, turning your face to look at him again. "I'd rather be somewhere where it's just you and me."

He was surprised by what you said, but it didn't take long for him to smile. That's what he wanted too, but he didn't know how to say it.

"Well then lead the way."

#opla #opla x reader #opla luffy #monkey d luffy #monkey d. luffy x reader

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lunarw0rks · 7 months

Note

i have another au i wanna introduce: mayors son!graves and ex pornstar!reader…hear me out. they gossip abt u two in the magazines :0

genuis ask; you have big brain...

SCANDAL | PHILLIP GRAVES

mayors!son!graves who isn't ignorant to the purity culture in the south, especially growing up in a conservative town. hell, he's about as stereotypical as you can get — and the media vultures still dig up dirt on him.

he doesn't care for his father much either. but reputation matters, whether people want to believe it or not. graves doesn't dare slander his own blood publicly; he'd end up running against him, or forced into exile by public opinion.

he didn't have interest in either scenario.

he only had interest in you.

the less attention and spotlight, the better. no easy task when you come from an influential family — and even more difficult when you made a living in adult films years ago.

mayors!son!graves who met you at a restaurant, when you took your break out back. an apron draped around your shoulders, and the pitiful, outdated diner uniform you hated. why the hell the mayors son was in this part of town, or speaking to you, it was a mystery.

at first, you thought he was like the rest of the politicians and their kin. their mistresses and dirty fantasies that disregard how they preach "family values" the next day.

but he wasn't.

graves didn't know you for your body, your intimate moments, not even word of mouth; just you, for you, in that moment.

mayors!son!graves who made his best effort to keep the media off his back, thus preventing any spotlight cast on your "sins".

he wound up unsuccessful, when photos of you two leaked.

first, a clear shot of you and him in his truck, on your fourth date. just when things between you had begun turning serious and meaningful, and in return — heating up.

the second photo, a week after you revealed your past to him, unaware of the digging the journalists were doing. a blurry shot of you two through the curtains, his business shirt unbuttoned, and you straddling him.

how they discovered your identity through a shaky cam, you didn't care to know. but your skeletons were out in the open.

nothing changed after you told him about your porn career.

nothing changed after the media spread like wildfire. surely, he was losing his mind, right?

his daddy would have hell to pay for this. graves was shocked he didn't have a heart attack and keel over once the articles were forwarded to his assistants.

he could already smell the mobs; feel the blinding flash of their cameras.

stepping out to collect the newspaper the next day was definitely going to be a treat.

˖⁺‧₊˚ divider cred. - cafekitsune ⋆⑅˚₊

#rachel speaks #mayors!son!graves #ex!pornstar!reader #phillip graves cod #phillip graves #phillip graves x reader #phillip graves x you #phillip graves imagine #graves x reader #graves x you #graves cod #graves mw2 #graves mwii #shadow company #kortac operators #kortac #mw2 #call of duty

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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 28 days

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Sugar Mama Chapter 1

And another one! New story involving #sugarbabybucky Warnings: eventual smut, sexual assault (not from Bucky)

Bucky was exhausted. He had been working three jobs for four years now just trying to get by, and this was his sixth sixteen hour day in a row. Student loans and credit card debt was eating him out of house and home, in the most literal sense. Even living in a rent controlled building wasn’t helping with the bills piling up. He had gone to college for architecture and interior design, which he was doing now working as an assistant during normal working hours for one of the many local interior designers. Then he would go straight to his second job as a waiter in a high end restaurant in downtown Manhattan, then at the end of the night go home and do a few more hours of online tutoring. He had ended his 20s and entered his 30s feeling like an old man, with no end in sight of ever getting a break or being able to break even with his debt. Forget about dating or having a family someday. That all seemed like a ridiculous pipe dream now.

“Heeeeyyyy Buckaroo?” Steve sidled up to him as he was cleaning off wine glasses.

“No,” Bucky cut him off.

“But it’s just–”

“Steve, it’s Friday night, I’d really like to go home and get in bed at a normal time tonight,” Bucky interrupted him, the dark circles under his eyes that he tried to ignore looking more prominent by the day.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. But Peggy has been hounding me about going to that new burlesque club that just opened and I told her I was working but we haven’t had a date night in a long time–”

“Ugh, fine. But I’m not sharing tips,” Bucky sighed, rubbing his face as he pulled a 5 Hour Energy out of his apron pocket and quickly downed it like a shot.

“Those are bad for you, Buck,” Steve gave his friend a worried look.

“Well maybe a heart attack in my 30s will put me out of my misery,” Bucky half-joked. Steve was silent. Bucky turned to him and scoffed. “It’s a joke. Go, I’ll take the closing shift. Say hi to Peg for me.”

“I’ll take your next closing, I promise. Thanks punk,” Steve gave him a quick hug.

“Yeah whatever, jerk,” Bucky laughed. As Steve went to the back to change, Bucky went to the host stand and figured out who was his next table.

“Whatcha got for me, witchy woman?” he leaned against the stand. Wanda gave him a quick glance.

“I told you to stop calling me that,” she sighed, looking back down at the list.

“It’s not my fault you got witch eyes. And I never said that was a bad thing,” Bucky said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Yeah whatever,” she rolled her amber eyes. “You’re gonna love this one. A Wall Street investment heiress, with some famous friends,” she gave him an unimpressed look.

“An heiress, huh? Well maybe she’ll be my next sugar mama,” he joked, giving her a wink as he adjusted his apron.

“You wouldn’t know how to be a sugar baby even if you tried,” she sassed back at him. “Table 42. She’s all yours.”

“Thanks babes,” he sing-songed at her before heading towards his section. As he approached table 42 he tried to see who the heiress was, but she was unfortunately facing away from him. Her friends, though, he easily recognized from some of the most recent films that had just hit theaters: Clint Barton and Natasha Romanov. Jackpot, he thought with a wry smile.

“Good evening, folks, welcome to Marea. My name is Bucky and I’ll be your server tonight. Could I get you started with some drinks? Or a review of our wine list?” He gave them all a friendly smile as he looked each of them in the eye at least once. The actors gave him quick smiles and glances before ordering generic wines and waters, then the heiress caught his eye. He almost did a double take once he realized who she was. Y/N Y/L/N, the daughter of Wall Street Tycoon Gerald Y/L/N. She was set for life and beyond. Her father was the investment king, knowing just when to buy in or sell out. She had taken on his legacy by doing the same but instead of investing in huge corporations she was investing in smaller businesses and projects, being the key investor until the business could truly thrive, giving her investment a return and getting a chance to grow in an area like New York City. She was the reason the new burlesque club opened that Steve was going to with Peggy. Not only was she wealthy, she was beautiful. Short in stature and plus size, she was an anomaly surrounded by her tall and slim friends, but she embraced her size and used it as a way to both literally and figuratively take up space in the industry and bring attention to the issues of body image, fatphobia, and investing in plus size companies and designers who she exclusively worked with for clothing her for events.

Bucky tried not to ogle and quickly gave her his best flirtatious smile. “And for you?” he asked her.

Y/N gave him an appreciative smile and her bright Y/C/E eyes seemed to really look at him rather than a passing glance like her friends. “I’d like to hear the wine menu, please.”

“Wonderful, we have a…” As he listed off the wines Y/N watched him intently, her eyes searching his face. He felt like he was the one being ogled and yet he persevered, trying not to sound nervous while serving some of the most influential and popular people in the world.

“It all sounds delicious, but I’m a creature of habit, so I think I’ll stick with my favorite Rose, the Billecart-Salmon. And I’ll also have water on the side.”

“Excellent choice, ma’am. Give me a moment and I’ll get those drinks out to you all,” he glanced at them all again before slipping away to the bar for the drinks.

Y/N watched him leave, a small smile on her face, before turning back to her friends. They eyed her ruefully with mischievous smiles. “What?” she asked.

“He’s cute,” Natasha commented, one eyebrow raised at her.

“Very cute. One could even say hot,” Clint added, watching Bucky walk back to the bar. “He’s got a great ass. Too bad he’s working here. He’d look divine in a Prada campaign.”

“You two stop it,” Y/N whispered, giving them a wide eyed glare. “Yes he’s cute.”

“You gonna go for it?” Natasha asked, her grin twisting into something conspiratorial.

“Oh do it! If you won’t, I’ll try my luck,” Clint shifted in his seat as he continued watching Bucky. “See if he goes both ways.”

Bucky was walking back with the drinks on a tray. Y/N narrowed her eyes and made the gesture for them to zip it.

“Alright, here are your drinks! Your waters, and the Sauvignon blanc for you,” he set it in front of Clint, “the Stella Artois for you,” he set it in front of Natasha, “and the Billecart-Salmon Rose for you.” He delicately set it in front of Y/N giving her another warm smile. She reciprocated it as she reached for her wine. She took a quick sip and her eyes fluttered shut.

“Perfect, thank you Bucky,” she said as she licked her lips.

Bucky’s eyes widened slightly before he caught himself. “Well, would you like to start with any appetizers? Or jump right into the good stuff?” he huffed a laugh.

“I’d like the lobster with the salad,” Clint ordered. “And could you make sure that the lobster is really big and thick. I like them meaty.”

Y/N’s eyes widened at him and his not-so-subtle innuendo. Bucky knew what he was doing and just let it slide, nodding in agreement. “I’ll put in a good word with the chef.”

Natasha next to him giggled before ordering. “I’ll just take the scallops and shrimp.”

Bucky nodded before turning to Y/N. “I’ll have the crab cakes and risotto, please.” He nodded again and gave her a smirk.

“My favorite,” he gave her a wink, making her blush. “I’ll get those in and come back to check on you all in a little bit,” he swept the table with a smile before walking back to the kitchen.

“Stop it, don’t embarrass him,” Y/N chastised Clint. “I’m sure he and the other servers get enough grief from creepy patrons all the time.”

“Oh it was just a little fun. Besides, he’s all eyes for you, honey, he barely even looked at me,” he shot back at her as he sipped his wine.

“It’s true,” Natasha said, then gave her an exaggerated wink. Y/N rolled her eyes. “I think you should ask him out. Or maybe he can be your next sugar baby.”

“Oh don’t bring that up again,” Y/N groaned. “It was a one time thing and ended badly. I just wanted to try it.”

“It ended badly because he was an ass, not because of anything you did. You gave him charity and he gave you an attitude. This guy seems sweet, nothing can hurt from just asking,” Natasha chided her, reaching out and pinching Y/N’s arm lightly.

Y/N considered her words. She had wanted to try out the lifestyle of being a sugar mama to a sugar baby. She had a lot of events to go to throughout the year, and as much as she enjoyed spending time with her friends and networking with people, she was getting really tired of these high-class, ridiculous men who thought that just by being famous or wealthy that she would throw herself at them. They wanted to use her for her name and connections. They never really cared about her. So she had tried being a sugar mama to a man who wasn’t famous, down on his luck, and just trying to get a leg up in life to escort her to these functions and give her companionship. But once he’d gotten his debts paid off by her and a taste of luxury he quickly became influenced by the rich douchebags around him and started treating Y/N disrespectfully, so much so that he’d made front page news of some tabloids and embarrassed her. She kicked him out after that and blacklisted him from any upcoming events. If there was one thing that she would never condone it was when others tried, directly or indirectly, to humiliate or embarrass her.

Bucky did seem nice, and very tired. The dark circles under his eyes and his shirt not being as ironed as some of the other servers were small giveaways that he was struggling. She didn’t want to embarrass him either by asking to be her sugar baby and assuming that he was struggling financially.

“He is very handsome,” she conceded, a larger smile spreading across her face.

Natasha squealed, clapping her hands joyfully. “Do it!”

The night dragged on as they ate their delicious meals and ordered more glasses of wine. Other patrons were clearing out as it got later and closer to closing time. As tired as Bucky was, doing his nightly closing duties quietly and discreetly so his table couldn’t see, he was banking on their tips. High end restaurants meant high end clients meant high end tips, and he had rent coming due next week. He packed on the compliments to Y/N and her friends, gave them warm and flirty smiles, offered complimentary items, and gave all his attention to them exclusively. Y/N had asked to compliment the chef and when he came out and talked to her table she whispered something to him that he quickly agreed to and jogged back to the kitchen. Bucky gave him a questioning glance but the chef waved him off.

Bucky watched carefully until he saw Y/N’s hand raise and her eyes searched for him. His cue for the check, which he quickly grabbed and brought it over to her. As he glanced at the insane price he noticed an extra meal that wasn’t supposed to be on there as he got to the table.

“Oh, I’m sorry Miss Y/L/N, there seems to be a mistake on the bill, I apologize, let me go–”

“No mistake, Bucky,” Y/N reassured him just as the chef came back out with a doggy box. He handed it to her and thanked her for coming. Y/N shook his hand and slipped something into it before he disappeared back to the kitchen wearing a rare smile. “Thank you,” she reached for the bill and slid her black American Express into the folder.

“Oh, alright, I’ll be right back then,” Bucky composed himself after the mini heart attack he just had from thinking the bill was wrong as he walked back to the stand to take her payment. Once everything was paid he brought back the folder, this time seeing her friends standing and putting on their coats while she stayed seated.

“Thank you, Bucky,” Natasha said his name seductively as she passed him. Clint gave him a little wave and a smirk as he left with her.

“Have a good night!” He called after them. He approached the table as Y/N was opening her wallet. “Here’s the receipt Miss Y/L/N. Thank you for coming in tonight.”

“No thank you for such excellent service, Bucky,” she complimented him as she took the folder again. “Will you sit with me for a moment?”

Bucky’s eyebrows raised and he glanced back at the bar. The manager, Pietro, and Wanda motioned to him to do as she asked. “Yes, of course,” Bucky accepted and sat himself in the chair across from her where Clint sat previously.

Her gaze flicked over him as she opened the folder, took the pen provided and filled out the parts of the receipt meant for her. She closed it and slid it over to Bucky who thanked her and placed it in front of himself.

“I have a proposition for you, Bucky. And please understand when I ask this that you are under no obligation to accept it and I don’t mean to embarrass you,” she started, looking a little nervous.

“Okay,” Bucky stated lamely as he watched her.

Y/N cleared her throat and put her fidgeting hands down in her lap. “I would like to offer you a type of job. As an escort, a sugar baby, to me.” Bucky’s eyes widened comically as he processed what she said. “I know it’s a strange request. But it’s something that I enjoy trying and it helps others…sometimes. I don’t want to assume anything of you, but I can tell when someone is struggling, and you look like life has not always been the easiest or kindest to you. I mean no offense.”

“None taken,” he replied automatically. “I…yes,” he looked down as he confessed to her. “It’s been, uh, rough, to say the least.”

“Hm,” Y/N hummed. She reached a finger out and pointed to the closed folder. She gestured for him to open it. He did and took a look over the receipt, nearly choking when he saw the amount on the tip line.

“No, no Miss Y/L/N, this is too much,” Bucky protested as he stared at the number.

“That’s what your service was worth. You are worth every cent, and more,” Y/N praised him. “You don’t have to decide tonight, Bucky, but in the meantime, here’s my card,” she slipped a business card over to him. “Think about it,” she said as she stood up. Bucky quickly stood up with her. Y/N stepped closer to him and reached for his hand. They shook hands and she leaned in and whispered to him, “By the way, you’re very handsome.” Bucky’s eyes bulged and he swallowed hard as she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek then turned and left. Bucky realized as he watched her leave that she had slipped something into his hand. He opened his hand to find a small folded wad of one hundred dollar bills in his palm. “Oh and that’s for you!” She called out and motioned towards the doggy box still sitting on the table. “Your favorite. Dinner’s on me,” she said and gave him a wink then twirled back around and out the door.

After she was out of the restaurant and beyond hearing Wanda and Pietro ran up to him. “How much did she give you?” Wanda squealed as she looked at the bills in his hand. He quickly counted it.

“$1000,” he whispered as he gawked at the money.

“Give me that,” Pietro demanded as he took the folder from Bucky. He opened it and gasped. “She gave you a $2500 card tip?? What did you do, Barnes, give her and everybody at her table a blow job?”

“Wow…I don’t know if I want to be her or be on her,” Wanda said wistfully as she looked back out the glass door where Y/N had already gotten into her car and drove off.

Bucky felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders as he stared at the bills, the $2500 floating around in his mind. He was not comprehending just how much she had given him. He looked at her business card again and knew he had to at least meet with her and find out what she was offering. But to become an actual sugar baby? To have a sugar mama? To have his debt disappear? To be taken care of? He smiled as his fingers touched where her lips had been.

**this picture has me SALIVATING. This is what I imagine sugar baby!Bucky to look like in this. Hope y'all like it!**

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #smut #sugarbaby!bucky barnes #sugarbaby #sugar mama #sugarmama!reader #chapter 1

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sashimiyas · 1 year

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cw: dad! osamu

osamu’s baby memorizes onigiri miya’s phone number before even learning how to write his own name. he likes to call his dad when nana miya is busy hanging up the laundry outside.

obviously, phone calls at onigiri miya are of the norm. the working class on a limited lunch like to place an order ahead and families cater. there’s complaints and compliments but when the little boss calls, the atmosphere changes.

the phone is exchanged between hands, everyone screaming a hey, little boss into the speaker, smiles on their faces from the babe’s infectious giggles. osamu has to fight through the crowd, yell at everyone to get back to work so he can have a chance to speak to his son.

they all relent, knowing all too well with the excited grin on osamu’s face that there’s no bite in his tone. he’s just a father who loves his son and is so clearly loved back.

“here ya go, big boss,” someone says while handing him the phone. the nickname is accepted graciously. he wouldn’t be big boss without a little one.

and the one on the phone loves it because he loves his dad so much. he has no clue what boss means, only knows that when someone says it, he’s picturing his father in an apron and black cap, and smells of green onions and sesame and rice, but that’s him. he’s exactly like dad, just littler.

“hey, little man,” osamu says as he steps back into the alleyway behind his restaurant. he wipes his brow, an exhale escaping him.

and his son laughs hysterically on the line. his employees always get him so riled up and the kid is saying hi repeatedly in multiple octaves, out of breath just like he. the cook can only imagine his kid running through the living room he and atsumu used to play in.

work is hard. it doesn’t get any easier but osamu doesn’t mind if the smallest breaks he can fit in sound like this.

“ya dancing over there?”

“no! i’m killing monsters!”

osamu can’t help but laugh at the gremlin noise, “wow, ya so brave. where’s granny? is she helping ya?”

“nana’s outside.”

of course osamu knew that. or else he wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.

“maybe ya should check on her. there might be monsters outside too.”

there’s a dramatic gasp on the line as if osamu’s said the most outstanding thing in the world. his son is too cute.

“okay!”

“alright. i’ll see ya soon, okay? make sure ya give the phone back to granny, alright?”

“okay!” he’s already running but before he hangs up, the kid makes sure to shout into the phone, “love you, big boss!”

osamu’s heart sings.

“love ya too, little boss.”

#reinas.inretrograde #reina.lovesosamu #unedited!#no formatting no tags. like we’re just out here writing into the void #i totally remember calling my mom while she was at work and i was at home #just to say hi lol #reina.writeshaikyuu!!

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wardenparker · 1 year

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Down the Rabbit Hole - Epilogue

Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

When Jack accidentally shoots a civilian on a mission he takes on not only the guilt of the man’s death, but inherits his soulmate as well. To you, it’s a dream job with more perks than you can imagine - but for Jack it’s a nightmarish complication. Even more so when he starts to develop feelings.

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 7k Warnings: Family reunion, pregnancy, references to deceased spouse/child, cemetery visit, character death, vague afterlife references. Summary: Jack’s birthday on the ranch is celebrated with a new surprise. Notes: This story has been so near and dear to my heart, and my absolute love of one sweet cowboy has made it even more precious. A few people have asked and there is always a possibility of coming back to revisit our soulmate pairs, so we’ll just have to see if these two have any more stories to tell in the future. Until then - stay tuned for a preview of the next soulmate story - The Viper’s Bride - later today!

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14 ~ Ch 15 ~ Epilogue

"Grammy! Grampa!" The shout goes up through the house – two little voices in unison as the front door of the ranch house swings open and two sets of stampeding feet come thundering toward the front hall at top speed. Even though you and Jack are moving a bit slower these days, it's nice to see family, especially for an occasion like this one. The fact that all the two of you have to do is show up is something of a fringe benefit. The other half of your entourage is right behind you, as Jackson won't let you or his father carry your bags into the house from the truck. He's greeted with an equal screech of "UNCLE JACK!" and your two grandkids veer slightly off course immediately to launch themselves at their uncle.

“Already replaced.” Jack pouts, rolling his eyes playfully as the kids clamber all over the youngest. “Jane still loves us. Jane? Honey? Where are you?”

"We're not as fun to climb on as Uncle Jack is," you chuckle under your breath as your younger child stands tall for his two nephews to climb all over like a tree in the yard.

"Dad?" The voice from the kitchen is loud enough to be heard over the din without shouting. "Mom? I'll be right out; I'm just putting the finishing touches on the cake!"

Jack chuckles when your face falls, obviously hoping to get here before she had made dessert. “You know it’s coconut cake.” He murmurs, pressing his lips to your leathery cheek. The years have been kind to you, still as gorgeous as the day he had tucked tail and ran from you.

"Of course it is. My baby knows what she's about." That sense of pride in your children is as bright as it was for their first smile, first laugh, first step, first word – first anything. Jackson might be the one running the restaurant with you now, but his older sister is something of a miracle in the kitchen in her own right.

"You made it!" When Jane appears from around the corner a second later, her apron is covered in all the evidence of an enormous project gone very right and there's coconut flakes still under her fingernails, but she's smiling as wide as can be and holding out her arms to hug both of her parents at once. "Happy birthday, Daddy."

“Thank you, honey.” Jack doesn’t deny his birthday anymore, doesn’t insist that it’s not to be celebrated. The parties that have been held have been a joyous reminder of the life he has now, a bittersweet remembrance of what could have been, but the ache has lessened over the years with the annual visits to Daniels Ranch. “Kacey still workin’ or is he around?” He asks.

"I barely got him inside twenty minutes ago, so he should be out of the shower soon." Jane squeezes you both tight and smiles, happy despite being tired. That's motherhood in a nutshell. "His family should be on their way right about now. They didn’t want to overwhelm you by taking over the house right when you arrived but they promised not to be late for dinner."

“Hope he’s ready to drink some whiskey and lose money to me after the kids get to bed.” Jack chuckles, having brought a few bottles from the distillery.

"Kayce's on a budget this year." Your daughter rolls her eyes fondly and laughs. "I don't need him losing the house during the poker party after I just redid the kids' bathroom."

Jack snorts and grins at his eldest child. The long-standing joke about betting the house always amuses him. Jane had found she was soulmates with Aiden’s grandson when they were just nine and ten years old. So every summer they had come back, making sure the young soulmates had a solid foundation and the boy liked ranching better than farming. He now ran Daniels Ranch and the board had been dissolved just a few years ago.

"What can we help with, sweetheart?" Despite Jack teasing you that it's perfectly okay to slow down and even consider retiring now that you've officially passed into senior citizen status, you just can't help yourself. No matter where you are or what you're doing, you have to dig your hands in.

“Nothing.” Jane is just like you, a consummate entertainer. Loving to provide good food and good times for those she loves.

"I don't know how you do it." You shake your head and give Jane another hug just as you hear footfalls on the stairs in the next room. "When you and your brother were that little I was throwing potlucks and pool parties. You've got your great-grandma in you. She could do absolutely anything with perfect style."

“Mom, come on.” She snorts rolling her eyes. “The only reason you did that was because dad put his foot down about you not running yourself ragged.”

"Then somebody ought to tell that husband of yours—" The exaggerated words come with a smile, knowing Kayce can hear you from the stairs. "That he ought to be helping out, too!"

“Sorry.” Kayce rubs a hand through his still damp hair and grins sheepishly. “Had a problem with the calves out in pasture twelve. They keep escaping and turning up in the creek.”

"Don't trouble yourself, honey. We just got in." It's not that you have favourites by any means – but if you could have chosen a son-in-law by hand, you certainly couldn't have chosen anyone kinder or more loving for your only daughter than Kayce. "The boys are already climbing on their uncle, and Janie didn't leave a thing for me to help with. So I have nothing to do but give out hugs, I suppose."

“Well, I can accept one of those.” Kayce holds his arms out and wraps them around you for a hug. “Thank you for coming. It’s so hard to get away. And I know this is tradition.”

"We wouldn't have missed it for the world." Turning around to find where Jack's gone, you smirk when you see that he's snuck into the kitchen to admire his birthday cake and swipe a finger through the frosting bowl.

“Daddy!” Jane huffs, turning around to see where you are looking. “What?” Jack cries, pretending he hadn’t just stolen some frosting. “I had to test it! You know that’s my role.”

"He's worse than the kids," you laugh, shaking your head at him before looking back at Jane and Kayce. "At least let me help set the table? Don't make your Mama feel useless."

Jane narrows her eyes at you for a moment before she sighs, relenting. She knows how it can be to want to help and be told it’s not necessary. All while watching someone run around. “The birthday china.” She gestures towards the large cabinet along the wall.

“The birthday china.” Grateful to not be relegated to the position of old lady who sits in a chair just yet, you hustle into the kitchen while you listen to Jack play with your grandsons out in the other room. What the family calls ‘birthday china’ is actually the beautiful china dinnerware that Jack and Abigail had received as a wedding gift that had been relegated to the house’s cupboards and left behind when Jack left for Louisville so many decades ago. Now it is used consistently, every time there is an adult birthday to celebrate on the ranch.

Jack walks back into the dining room to watch you fuss over the place settings with a fond smile. Wrapping his arm around his daughter and squeezing her against him. He might not be as strong as he had been when she was a little girl, but he is thankful that Ginger has managed to keep all of you spry. “Thank you, honey.” He murmurs softly. “This is just what we needed.”

“You can come up as often as you want, Dad. You know that.” Jane settles against her father comfortably, always having been a bit of a Daddy’s girl and enjoying the comfortable presence of having him close by. “You are retired now. Even if Mom refuses to.”

“I know.” He shakes his head. “Still can’t get her out of that kitchen. It’s her baby now that you two are grown.”

"It was her baby even before we were born," she laughs softly. "That restaurant is my older sibling, and also somehow my brother's baby." The Rabbit-Hole, she always says, is just another member of the family.

“It’s woven into the fabric of our lives and most of your memories.” Jack admits, praying that his children are happy with their lives. He had given them the opportunities to do whatever they wanted and yet each of them had chosen a path that was damn near a family legacy.

"And some day when Jackson finally finds his soulmate, it'll be part of their kids' lives, too." It's more or less an open secret in the family, what Statesman is all about. And because they are so aware of the inner workings, Jackson always likes to say that his soulmate must be one of the agents. Who knows whether or not it's true, but it certainly does speak to his mischievous heart.

“That boy is just as stubborn as I was.” He chuckles, shaking his head as he looks over at where he’s rough housing with the boys.

"If we thought he'd be happy without knowing them, that would be one thing," Jane shrugs with sympathy in her eyes. "But I know he wants to find them. It'll happen eventually." After all, she knows how lucky she is. If Kayce hadn't broken his arm when he was ten, they might not have known they were soulmates until they were much older.

“He would be. He’s a romantic at heart.” Jackson doesn’t say much about it, but Jack knows the boy’s worried. He doubts the kid doesn’t have a soulmate, he’s just sure they’re playing hard to find.

“It’ll happen.” Jane hums confidently, always seeming like she knows something the rest of the family doesn’t. Her Mona Lisa smile always keeps everyone guessing. “Why don’t you get settled, Daddy? Aiden and Sheila should be here soon and we can all tuck in to this big birthday dinner.” She grins at him. “I’m gonna tell Kayce to get the grill going.”

“Shit.” Jack pouts at his daughter. “I’m gunna drink a beer and advise the boy on how to cook those steaks perfectly.” He teases with a wink. He tries not to interfere, but he’ll give his son-in-law a hard time on principle alone.

“Shocking that you would do such a thing,” Jane teases, waving her father off to follow the sound of roughhousing so she can say hello to her little brother. Though adulthood has kept them apart for a few years now, they still talk mostly every day and remain as thick as thieves.

Stopping by the fridge, Jack grabs two beers, knowing Kayce will want one as well. Grilling is horrible thirsty work and it seems only right to do it with a beer in your hand. Stepping outside, he watches as the younger man lights the grill. “Reports from the ranch have been really good.” He offers, striding over to hold out the beer. “Seems like everything’s going alright?” It’s a statement and a question. Giving Kayce an opening to talk about anything that’s on his mind.

“Can’t complain.” The younger man takes the bottle that’s offered to him gratefully and nods, looking out over the back yard of the much-larger ranch house since he finished the last set of renovations. “We just hired on two more permanent sets of hands.” He looks to his father-in-law curiously. “You remember the Pruitt family? They say they’ve been in the valley as long as the Daniels have, but that could just be big talk.”

“Pruitt...Pruitt…” Jack hums as he thinks back, looking over the yards towards the barns and bunkhouses. “Think I remember them. Seems like they were always kinda down on their luck?”

"Long as I've known them, yeah." Methodical in his work, Kayce goes about setting up the grill while the two men talk. He'd always thought of Jack Daniels as an unofficial uncle right up until the day he realized he was in love with Janie, and it had saved him a whole heap of fears that seemingly all of his friends had gone through with their own fathers-in-law. "Anyway, the two boys are just out of high school. They've been helping us during the season for years and gettin' pretty good with the work, so we were glad to take them on full time."

“I trust you made a good decision then.” Kayce has always had a good head on his shoulders and thought about the future. “You’ve done a damn fine job runnin’ this place.”

"We need everything to be running smoothly." The sheepish grin that Kayce flashes his father-in-law is broad. "Three kids is going to be a lot of energy running around this place and until they're old enough to be helping hands themselves, Janie wants to make sure I have the hands I need."

“Three—” Jack stops, a grin immediately blooming across his face and he reaches out to slap Kayce on the back. “Pretty soon you’re gunna have your own baseball team out here.” He chuckles, proud about another grandchild. “Anyone else know yet?”

"Not yet." Puffing up proudly, Kayce leans back on the porch railing and lets his smile take over. "Jane wants to tell everyone at once, but I figured...it's your birthday. Getting to be the first to know is like an extra gift."

“It damn sure is.” Jack beams, nodding in agreement. “‘Though I’ll let her think you didn’t say a word.” He promises, looking off towards the Daniels plot. Where Abigail and Timmy are resting. “Been thinking about things for a while.” Jack admits after a moment of silence between them. “I want to make sure that the trust for the ranch is in yours and Jane’s hands. Completely take it over.”

He wants to say that it isn't necessary. That he doesn't mind working for his wife's father. Because he doesn't – not really. It's a big company and a big responsibility to have the running of the whole thing. But Kayce also knows he can manage it now. After a whole childhood of watching his father run the family farm and being privy to all the ins and outs of Daniels Ranch, he and Jane can handle a big family and an even bigger business. They have the right know how and support system for that. "I'm honored that you trust us with the legacy," is what is says instead, looking to Jack with a nod. "This place is a hell of a responsibility and you know we take that seriously."

“I know you do, which is why you and Jane are the right fit for this place.” Jack huffs. “Something about working for yourself that makes it extra satisfying too. You – you have the spirit of a Daniels.”

"It helps that you were there every summer while I was growing up." Though the visits were never too long they always happened, and the two families had been close for practically Kayce's entire life. Getting visits from his grandparents' good friends had just been a thing that happened and it never seemed odd to him – and then he broke his arm in peewee football and all hell broke loose in their families as people started celebrating the fact that he'd have a scar from the surgery to fix it.

“It took a long time to be able to come back here. Your granddaddy’s sister used to love this place.” Of course Kayce knows the family history and respects it. “Figure that same blood runs through your veins as well. It calls to this place, and I’ve never had a doubt in my mind you were the perfect match for my little girl.”

"That little girl is a mischievous woman now." Moving while he talks means Kayce is pulling steaks from the cooler and counting things out to make sure he has enough of all the right cuts for the adults before he starts pulling out burger patties for the kids. "She's dead set on playing matchmaker for her brother. I keep telling her it'll happen when it's meant to."

“She just wants to see him happy.” Jack can’t blame her. She’s so settled in and focused on her life and the joy that she obtains from it, it’s not hard to want that for her little brother. “Plus, she likes to meddle. Too much like her mama.” He chuckles, turning and admiring you through the glass.

"Nothing wrong with that." After all, Jane's similarities to her mother were obvious just as easily as looking at her. "And I think...with being expecting again and all...she's enjoying the domesticity of the thing. First trimester's been a hell of a lot easier this time than with the boys, which has her thinking it might be a girl."

“A little girl.” Jack smiles and chuckles. “Oh I can’t wait to spoil her then.” He enjoyed having a little girl, and he knows Kayce will too.

“We won’t know for sure for a few weeks.” It doesn’t matter though; he knows he’ll love any child that he and Jane welcome into their family. “If it is, she’ll have two very protective brothers looking out for her.”

“Yes she will.” As rough as the boys could be, they were equally protective of each other. He has no doubt that would extend to another sibling. “She’ll hate it when she’s older.”

“She might,” Kayce admits with a laugh. “But her mama and I sure won’t.”

Jack can’t deny that, humming happily as he watches the meat sizzle on the grill. Life is damn good, especially for a man who never envisioned having this at one point in his life.

"You boys plotting the crime of the century out here?" When you stick your head outside to see how things are moving along, it's obvious that Jack and Kayce are just enjoying the afternoon together in peace, something that you're pleased to see every single time. "Kayce, your parents just got here, honey. Grandparents are on the way, they said."

“Yes ma’am, thank you.” Kayce nods towards you and then closes the lid on the grill. “We might as well go say hi. It’ll be a while.”

"Known the boy since he was in diapers, and he still calls me ma'am." You shake your head as Kayce walks past you into the house and hold your hand out to Jack. "Everything going well?"

“Everything’s coming up roses, sugar.” Jack hums, moving over to take your hand and pull you into his arms for a kiss. “Have I told you today that I love you?”

"Only twice." Decades later, you still melt a little every time Jack holds you tight. But it's still always so easy to tease him. "You're slipping a little, honey."

“Damn, I’ll have to tell you again.” He presses his lips to yours gently. “I love you, sugar. I wouldn’t have this life without you. I wouldn’t be here right now if it weren’t for you.”

"Happy birthday, Jack." Every year it got a little easier, until the bittersweet memories turned nostalgic and the day was no longer one to dread. Now it's a day for smiles and cake, for presents and playing with the kids – and then grandkids. It's a day that he's happy to wake up on instead of dreading. "I love you. So much."

“I love you too, sugar.” Jack promises, smiling at you. “And you’re gonna love our present today. It’s something for both of us.”

"Oh yeah?" You laugh a little, nudging your nose against his. "Did they replace the sleeper sofa with a great big, fluffy mattress for us?"

Jack snorts, shrugging. “I don’t know, that sleeper sofa is comfortable. And I’m not letting our daughter try to take it again.”

"I'm going to remind you that you said it was comfortable when you back hurts in the morning." It's just a little tease, but you can't help it. Enough years and decades with Jack and the joy in being together still hasn't faded from your relationship.

“I don’t think I’ll be complaining this time.” Jack predicts with a grin. “Only complaint you’ll get out of me is if she can’t have coffee in the house anymore.”

It takes a second, but your head tilts curiously just in time for the shit eating grin to spread across Jack's face. "No?" You're beaming right along with him in no time. "Number three? Really?"

“Just told me.” Jack nods. “He’s about to puff up out of his chest he’s a proud as a peacock.” He chuckles, knowing he had been just a proud when you were pregnant with Jane and Jackson.

"Are we the last or the first to find out?" Jane and Kayce have always been so proud of their family each time it's grown, you can't imagine that they wouldn't make a very big deal about letting people know. Kayce must have been busting at the seams to tell someone.

“The first.” Jack admits. “Kayce told me it’s because it’s my birthday.”

That earns him an amused giggle from you, and you shake your head fondly. "Granddaddy's privilege, that's what that is. Come on, love. Your daughter wants to know what else you want to do this week but hang around the house with the boys."

“Do you want to go with me to visit them?” Jack always asks. Even now. Never wanting you to feel uncomfortable, so it’s always a question. You’ve always come with him, but he won’t be upset if you wanted to stay and visit with Jane and the kids this time.

"Of course I do." He always asks, and your answer is always the same. "I've got to keep her updated on all the things you leave out of your stories." The gentle smile on your lips tips upward, and you lean forward to press your forward against his. "I know she's up there with Timmy and Grandma Jane and my parents looking down on us, but I still only get to talk to her once a year. It's tradition."

“It is tradition.” Jack smiles softly. “I want to be buried here.” He admits. “With you, if you want it. Surrounded by my soulmates.”

"I guess I always assumed you would be." In fact, no other alternative had ever really occurred to you. Not in all the years that have gone by. "It's your whole family up there. I always figured we would join them eventually."

“I didn’t know if you’d want that.” Jack won’t disrespect your own wishes. You have a say in this too.

Your fingers lace through his as easily as they did the very first time, and you let that soft smile warm through you. "I want to be with you. In this life and for whatever happens next."

“Whatever happens next.” The commotion inside causes him to turn towards the door and he grins. “Looks like Aiden and Sheila are here. Want to go say howdy?”

"We better, before Jane comes to get us." There's time to steal a quick kiss, but you're still smiling excitedly. "If she's waiting to tell everybody all at once, she'll be itching to give the news as soon as she can."

“Remember to act surprised.” Jack smacks your ass playfully as he guides you towards the door. “And I still want some birthday sex later on.”

He manages to get a little chirp of surprise out of you, and you just laugh. "Of course, cowboy."

“Damn straight.” Re-entering the house to join the chaos, hugs and back slaps are exchanged. Aiden’s claims that Jack’s getting old are countered by good natured ribbing about how only one of them is a great-grandparent. A testimony to how far Jack had come in his journey to healing from the loss of Abigail and Timmy.

You help Jane pass drinks around, still an entertainer at heart, and pretty soon even the kids have settled a little. "So, of course we know that everybody is here for Dad's birthday dinner," she beams at her assembled family, smile burning even brighter when you go to sit next to Jack and Kayce takes your place by her side. "But we just wanted to say thank you for coming and...give everyone a little bit of news."

Jack manages to school his expression to look just as expectant as everyone else around the table. “What’s goin’ on honey.”

The boys look positively bored, but Jane smiles at her young sons and beams out at the rest of her family. "Well..." She blows out a breath and squeezes her soulmate's hand. "In about seven and a half months...Jamie and Carter are going to be big brothers."

The squeals of happiness and gawfs of surprise are loud, making it a rush to jump up and hug Jane and shake Kayce’s hand or slap him on the back. The comedy of the scene is your two young grandsons clamoring to get to their mother as soon as possible, with five-year-old Jamie placing both hands on Jane's belly and informing his three-year-old little brother in his wisest tone possible that the baby can hear everything as long as you talk right at Mommy's belly button.

"At least he's chosen that as the speaker and not something else," you joke, going to put your arms around Jane and give her a tight hug. "Congratulations, Janie. You must be completely over the moon, huh?"

“Excited and wondering what the heck we were thinking.” Language is censored for the boys, considering Jamie had informed the youngest that ‘son of a bitch’ was the pain when you hurt your hand.

“You were thinking how much you love the baby phase,” you stifle a laugh so the boys don’t overhear. “They’re adorable before they learn ‘no’.”

“That word is going to be banned.” She rolls her eyes and laughs, still beaming as her hand caresses her stomach.

“I’m going to take you out for a little pampering while I’m here,” you promise her, remembering how much work two little ones was. She’ll be in it deep with three. “Shopping, eating out, even a pedicure while you can still see your toes. Mom and daughter day. What do you say?”

“That sounds wonderful.” Jane would never suggest that you leave Kentucky, the restaurant still your baby, but sometimes a girl just needs her mom. Especially when she’s pregnant.

“A whole day. Your Dad and brother can hang back with the boys or help Kayce out on the ranch.” Laying a kiss in her hair, you end up sniffling back a few proud tears. “You’re an amazing mama, Janie. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you, mom.” Jane hugs you again. “I will take that as the highest of compliments coming from you. You set the bar very high.”

“We come from a long line of good moms. We got lucky that way.” Pressing a kiss to her hair, you step back before you can get too emotional, and wipe an errant drop of water from your cheek. “Gettin’ sentimental in my old age,” you joke. Everyone is well aware that you’ve always been sentimental.

“I want you and dad to come out when the baby’s due.” Jane automatically requests, just like you have been present for the others. She knows it’s a given, but you also don’t push and want her to call the shots.

“If you want us there, consider it done.” You hadn’t missed the births of your first two grandchildren and you certainly wouldn’t miss the third.

“I do.” Jane grins. “I think this might be the last one, from us anyway.”

“And three is a wonderful number. You’ll always be busy and you’ll have a house full of love for a very long time to come.” The way she just radiates happiness doesn’t make the wheels turning in her mind, though. You’re her mother. You taught those wheels which direction to move in. “But go easy on your brother, okay honey? He’s doing amazingly at the restaurant and he’s happy there.”

“I won’t say a word.” She promises. “I’m just worried about him.”

“I know, honey.” Spending half your lifetime always worried about your children because you love them means you have complete sympathy for that. “But he’ll find who he wants to be with. Soulmate or otherwise.”

“You’re right. I know.” Jane looks over at where Jackson is talking to Kayce’s grandparents and smiles. “As long as he’s happy.”

******

It’s that evening when you park the truck on the hill on the east side of the property, absorbing the last of the August sunshine as you both step out of the cab to visit Abigail and Timmy. It’s almost like going to see an old friend after so many years of this, and you still take Jack’s hand in yours to give it a supportive squeeze before stepping up to the matching headstones.

There is now a bench off to the side, allowing for a lengthier visit, or for Jack to sit down if his back is sore. “Hey, sweetheart.” Jack smiles as he sees how neatly Kayce has kept the family plot. He and Jane had taken over the flower gardens planted around the two headstones since Aiden wasn’t able to come out as often as he had when he was a younger man. “Told you that we’d be back.”

He says it every time, as though Abigail was there raising an eyebrow in surprise to see him, and you always chuckle a little. “Brought you a daisy,” you murmur as you put the flower down - your own tradition that has never faltered. “And some news.”

“Of course you’re gunna tell on me.” Jack teases, although he’s very aware of what news she’s bringing. “Timmy, you’re bein’ good for your momma, aren’t ya?” He asks, his heart aching like a tiny little arrow pierced it at the thought of his first baby boy.

Sometimes over the years, you could have sworn that a breeze came at just the right time to be an answer, or that you felt a flash of cold even in the August heat. Sometimes you could have bet your life on hearing a faraway voice. But it’s always a comfort to be here for your visit. “Of course he is,” you nod, squeezing Jack’s hand.

“I know.” Jack murmurs softly. “Wish I coulda seen what kind of man he woulda become.”

“He’d be thick as thieves with his brother and sister, and a mountain for his nephews to climb on, just like Jackson.” Of course Timmy would be older by now – outgrown the nickname and become Tim or Timothy – but you can’t help picturing him the same age as your own two kids.

“Yes he would have.” Jack chuckles and closes his eyes, imagining it as he holds your hand.

"Not a whole lot has changed this year, Abby." You've taken to speaking to Abigail so conversationally that sometimes you slip a little and call her Abby like an old friend. "But Janie just let the family know that she's expecting again. It'll be all any of us talk about for the next seven months."

“We’re getting older too.” Jack admits, feeling his age today for some reason. He’s lived twice the years without his first wife and son than he had with Abby. “Slower. You’d laugh at my groans getting up.”

"He sounds like a creaky mattress," you tease, imagining that you can hear the sound of a laugh in the wind.

“It’s what happens when you put my body through the rigors of being an agent for so long.” Jack rolls his eyes but he’s grinning at you. “Still think both of you would be given me hell if you knew one another.”

"I have no doubt." Lifting your connected hands, you press a kiss to Jack's cracked knuckles. There’s more time spent, laughter shared and small snippets of life from the Statesman grounds. Nearly an hour passes before you say your goodbyes and Jack leads you back to the truck.

"Gets harder to get into this thing every year," you laugh, letting your frustration at having to hoist yourself into the tall truck roll off your shoulders instead of getting upset about it. Approaching old age is a privilege that you don't take lightly.

“We might have to get one of those trucks with the fold down steps.” Jack snorts, smirking at you.

“Or convince our daughter to have one vehicle on the ranch that is less than five feet off the damn ground,” you huff good-naturedly. “I might never have been an agent, but I’ve still done a number on my knees.”

“All that runnin’ around in the kitchen.” Jack pats your knee fondly and looks at you before he starts the truck up. “I love you, sugar.”

“I love you, too, honey.” It’s not as easy as it used to be to lean over and give him a kiss, but you still manage it. “Let’s go back home and see the kids.”

“Yes ma’am.” He smiles softly and puts the truck in gear after he starts it. “Been thinking about maybe sneaking you off to the old foreman’s cabin.” Jack hums playfully. “Since it’s empty now.”

“Oh yeah?” The suggestion makes you chuckle, so glad that the attraction between you has never waned. “We could do that.”

“Yeah.” He might not be able to set a pace that completely wrecks you or pushes your – no longer needed – IUD out of place, be he can still make you shake in pleasure.

You hum, watching him as he drives back down the hill toward the main house. "I guess I know what we're doing tomorrow then."

“Still not too old to chase you around the bedroom.” Jack teases, winking at you playfully. His dark hair is nearly white and his craggy wrinkles are much deeper than they had been when you met, but he’s still the same cowboy.

Kissing the back of his hand again, you sit back in your seat and chuckle softly. "I sure as hell hope not. Though I don't know how fast I'm up to running these days anyway."

“It’s been a good day.” The setting sun off to the west is always a view he has loved, going back to when he was just a little thing running around this land. “The perfect birthday.”

"You say that every year." With varying degrees of sarcasm at certain times, of course. But today he seems as sincere as ever. And he's right – at least this time. It really has been a fairly perfect day.

“I mean it to.” He insists. “I’m a blessed man, sugar.”

"You're just excited to have a new grandbaby," you tease, giving his hand a squeeze. Of course you believe him - that he loves his life and feels blessed by it - but you also know for damn sure that a good part of his giddiness comes from that good news. As it should. Being a grandparent agrees with Jack.

“Of course I’m excited to have a new grandbaby.” Jack huffs. “I never expected to have a baby for the longest time, let along three grandbabies. Especially not with another soulmate. I’m damn blessed by you.”

That softens you and you lean against Jack's shoulder as he drives. "I love you, too, honey."

The silence between you is soft, welcomed like a warm blanket. So much time together had been spent that he can almost hear your thoughts. “When we find out what they are having, I want to see what kind of specialty dessert you’re gonna make for the restaurant.” Every one of the kids and grandkids have their own dessert that’s featured during their birthday month.

"Janie said she's been craving onions." Both of you chuckle as he pulls the truck into the driveway of the main house. "So I don't know if it will be a dessert this time. Maybe a tart or an onion tarte tatin."

“Interesting.” Jack chuckles. “If it’s a little girl, she’s gonna be a spitfire.”

"Because would be so unusual for a Daniels." The expression on your face is nothing short of amused. All of you are well aware that spitfire is a description that could apply to anyone in your family.

“Absolutely.” He agrees. “We’re just so…boring.” His eyes slide over to watch your reaction. “No passion.”

"None." You shake your head as solemnly as you can manage, barely keeping your face schooled into something serious. "We are a complete blank canvas. No emotions or opinions whatsoever."

“That’s us.” His chuckles can’t be contained now, rolling out freely as both of you describe everything the Daniels family is not.

"Come on, my love." Unbuckling your seatbelt and stretching, you lean over the center console again to kiss him. "I want to cuddle up with my passionless husband and watch a movie with our kids before bed."

“Sounds like the perfect ending to the best day.” Jack hums, counting his blessings for how lucky he is.

******

In the years since Jack had died, it hadn't made any sense to stay in Louisville. Working the line – or even front of house – at the restaurant was too physical to be sustainable for you and the place was running brilliantly in Jackson's capable hands. It turned out that his soulmate really was a Statesman agent, and you had watched your son take on much the same life that you had lived happily, with his husband.

Retirement had given you options, of course, but you hadn't wanted to be apart from Jack, so you had readily become a full-time grandma on the ranch in Montana. Every day saw another trip to the cemetery on the hill and spending time with your growing grandchildren. Six years went by almost in the blink of an eye, except for the ache of missing your soulmate. That never seemed to dissipate no matter how many wonderful memories you held on to. It lived in your heart each day to be swallowed down like a bittersweet pill, until the day that you had laid down for an afternoon nap and closed your eyes for the very last time.

“Hello sugar.” Jack’s smile is brilliant, young. The lines old age had given him are smooth, the dark spots on his skin clear, his stooped posture straight as he stands in front of you, looking just as hale and hearty as the day he had met you. Holding out his hand, he helps you up from the bed and pulls you into his arms. “I have missed you. So much, but I’ve been watchin’ over you.”

“Jack.” When you can practically jump up out of the bed and into his arms, there is no question of what’s happened. The moment holds only the barest pain, knowing what you’re leaving behind, but the joy you feel at being reunited with Jack completely outweighs it. “Honey, I missed you.”

“I was with you every step of the way.” Jack promises, right before he presses his lips to yours in a kiss that has been sorely missed in the past six years. Watching you and ghosting a kiss over your skin isn’t the same as you knowing it’s him.

“What happens now?” If you had ever worried that you would feel fear in this moment, that worry is soothed instantly by the fact that it’s Jack here to show you what comes next. Or maybe this is all it is, and kissing him really is your own private heaven like you always said.

“Well…sugar, there’s someone that wants to meet you.” Jack murmurs, pulling away and looking behind him with an equally brilliant smile.

“Finally.” A sweet, soft voice has a hint of a happy giggle in it. Abigail steps forward, looking beautiful and healthy although she is not rounded with child. She had appeared to Jack as she had been before the pregnancy. “I have so much to thank you for.”

“Abigail!” There is no question of who this is – you had seen so many pictures of her in your life that you recognize her as an old friend as the two of you fall into a deep embrace. “I didn’t think— maybe I should have— I’m so glad to finally meet you.” Though you can feel sobs shake you a little, there is no sadness. It’s more of a powerful wave of relief that washes over you in this moment.

“I wanted to come. I needed to make sure you know how much I appreciate you.” There’s no jealousy, no bitterness that you spent more time with Jack than she had. There is nothing but joy and elation at finally greeting the woman who has shown her so much kindness and respect. Abigail pulls back and smiles at you while Jack watches the exchange.

“I don’t know what to say,” you admit, feeling a little overwhelmed by the moment. Without fear, you’re left to simply adjust to whatever this next step is. “I’m just glad it’s the two of you here.”

Nodding, she steps back and allows Jack to take your hand. “Sugar, we will always be here.” He promises, and points with his other hand to the side. “And we can always watch over the kids and grandkids.”

You nod, taking Jack’s hand firmly in yours before reaching for Abigail with your other. Though you had never expected her to come, it’s an enormous comfort that she’s here. “I’m ready.”

Jack grins at you and winks. “Ready to go down another rabbit hole with me, sugar?” He asks, overjoyed that he gets to spend eternity with both you and Abigail. His soulmates.

“As long as I get to be with you, we can go anywhere you like.” It’s what you hoped for, when you thought of this moment, and the fact that it’s come true means you’re ready for anything.

“Then let’s get this train a movin’.” Jack squeezes your hand. “Heaven awaits.”

______ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle

DtRH: @haileymorelikestupid @spishsstuff @missmarmaladeth @axshadows @a-gay-cryptid @sgt-morgan @1a-ma1a-su3rt3 @flowers4copper @ghost-timelord @the0racl30fd3lphidos @all-the-way-down-here @bobafvcker @ficsbynight @dinoflower @supernaturalgirl20 @xdaddysprincessxx @bobawh0re @amiee-mitch18 @darkhairedmenrule @heyyimlaynna @strawberry-f4iry @3zm33atzbuss33 @whataghost @cyber666slut @nobody-000 @eddiemunsonsgirlfriendirl @lucciolaraven @powergirlsupremacy @secondsistershelby @dreadmars @androgynoushellscape @soytomatecherry @cheesecake-massacre @mylifeisbasedonashow @idiotickiddo @tomfeltonisbae @maratheidiot22 @im-nada @everybirdfellsilent @deepdarkdelights @brokenwhitegirl384 @ur-honey-child @caseket @copperrose15 @we-could-have-been @valkyries-ride @scarletmunson @strawberriricemilk @ghost-timelord @galactigoos @floridawaters @cutiepie6473 @pinball-vance @theslytherinwriter @scorpioswonder @stankyleg05 @fxdsketches @sad-innit @coffeyorky @1a-ma1a-su3rt3 @starlordsonlywife @aura626 @mistresskei @marv3lwhor3 @sadimusprimee @yourwonderbelle @sgt-morgan @spot116 @milybaby018 @loserk1nks @artfulthoughtswp @aavw @babyrunsforfanfic @faceache111 @midnight-huntress @asimpleraccoonqueen @marki-moo0 @pages89 @rawr-bitches @rebel-fanfare @soooosha @luna-is-out-there @im-sylien @timpletance @certifiedhunter @ellenmunn @littlethief78 @tinalbion @eddy-y @tikibabi @whyidkok @bearcoon1666 @littlebirdsbookshelf @a-gay-cryptid @disaster-ahaha @viridiesa @axshadows @purplerain04 @karmarouge @holycyclehomo @sainteredhood @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @the-wishmonger @theliferuiner @raptorclaw24 @asp1r1ngm1lf @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @st4rl1ght444 @litholithium @tusk89 @youjustneedatherapist @nekodemon73 @iceclaw101 @lightningsface @shakespeareanwannabe @jasminemunson @spideysimpossiblegirl @wannabedaphne @sammus-white @jazzieomega @88dragon06 @ishabull @raquel-rial @tuquoquebrute @hotleaf-juice @dantaku @youokhoney @thisiswhyibleedsstuff @maximumkryptonitegladiator @jediknight122 @gadsgikklesen @movievillainess721 @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @the-strawberrythief @spishsstuff @choppedmugjudgeplaid @haileymorelikestupid @gooddaykate @missredherring @abyssal-zone-stares-back @supernaturalgirl @winterandstars @severewobblerlightdragon @missmarmaladeth @noisynaia @saintbedelia @algressman16 @eaks0710 @mina2000alex @emdraws02 @universallyclodlawyerpainter @rayrayvan @akaleelanie @mishasminion360 @amneris21 @roxypeanut @lunarcatbun 118 @frasmotic @emdraws02 @universallyclodlawyerpainter @rayrayvan @lovelychaos420 @1432690 @no1pornstachefan @thegrimreaperbitch @esmeensheep @izz-ayes-world @kittycatcait219 @loveyou3000tonystark @tintinn16 @igenerallytrynottogiveagoshdarn @motheroftorches @phoenixhalliwell @the-dazzling-urbanite @coffeyorky @trickstersp8 @victorian-cherub @julissadunn @clarysthing @the-girl-that-loves-many-fandoms @mastersurf @theghostofutopia @ncsls0515 @seraphinaivy @hiyorinatsuki @ghostofaboy @yn-hamato @elfwriter1088 @sunnygrey99 @lexinicolenix @lazyemisfandomtrash @curiouskeyboard @qualityearthquakes @spider-284748 @unnecesarysstuff @sgt-morgan @love-affair-with-fandoms @lunarcatbun @kstar770 @kykymarty @supergingerlocks @hell0kittybimb0222 @a-birds-fin @loidforgerishotashell @mythical-writer @ghostshalo @avengersimaginesfan @sccialcasualty @lordecult @petalo-dropsart @i-quite-like-eating-carrots @svudetective @hasta-la-pasta-bb @manicpixiedreamgirly @destinydog @skeppycarnation @anaisweird @critters-beware @fruityforcocoapuffs @linnnniie @spideyromantic @paupeach2024 @faithxyu @fxramir @legomyeggo @jjggdfvvy @hi-my-name-is-riley @kasaikawa @lost-ghost-thats-sleepy @callmegkiddo @2dead2function @generallysleepdeprived @failingclassesinmygucciglasses @thebeesknees42 @moonmoon007 @wi0na @cilliansangel @lostinsideourminds @angstismydrug @elvenmother @bilibiche @kettlekatie @preschoolispunk @djarinsstuff @generallysleepdeprived @love-affair-with-fandoms @jay-ghostly @wowieitbeme @fanofverymanythings @josephquinnswhore @this-harl0t-shant-be-unalive @djarinsstuff @justherebecausesafarisucks @cedricbitch @rebel-soldat @madisonred88

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Jack Daniels #Jack Daniels x reader #Jack Daniels x you #Jack Daniels x female reader #Jack Daniels x f!reader #Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels #Agent Whiskey #Kingsman Golden Circle #tw death #afterlife

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