#Nose Job Chicago

[wtfsteveharrington]

after midnight | carmen berzatto x reader

summary: chicago is expensive, okay? so you pick up a job outside of the restaurant which just so happens to involve your camera. everything's fine until richie stumbles upon the website and shares it with camry.

contents: perv!carmy, male & female masturbation, sex toys, dirty talk, cam sex, slight dub-con kinda if you look for it. carmy’s honestly a wreck. mentions of unprotected sex, choking, oral sex, overstimulation. please note!! no formal intercourse takes place yet but it's cuming coming but ya girl wants a slow burn

reader description: she/her pronouns, there is semi a hair scene but i use no real descriptors so still vague!

word count: basically 3.9k

author notes: first fic in a year baby and boy did i lose the plot!! filth!! also i sure love saying fuck in this so enjoy that

part two

★–————————–

Richie’s voice is annoying. It echos, ricochets off the walls, and can’t be contained by even the highest quality of sound proofing. Which is why, at 8 in the morning, Carmen’s already considering having to take Excedrin as Richie bursts through the doors. 

“Carmy, Cousin, you’re never gonna fuckin’ believe what I found last night.” He’s out of breath after running in, fumbling around with his phone in a rush to pull something up. He’d spent all night contemplating if he texted Carmen or waited to show him in person. Ultimately the urge to see his reaction won but that didn’t stop Richie from waking up before his alarm out of excitement. “Listen, we’re both grown ass men so I’m gonna say it -“ he’s glancing around to make sure they’re alone, “- So I’m laying there and jerkin’ my shit, right?” 

Carmen’s wincing, pinching the bridge of his nose and contemplating every decision that brought him back to Chicago. 

“Dude, fuck off. I don’t wanna hear -“ Richie tsks, cutting him off. 

“Nah, shut the fuck up because you wanna hear this. In fact, you’re gonna wanna fall to your knees and kiss my shoes and praise my ass as a thank you for finding this.” 

He’s holding up his phone, an iPhone 8 he refuses to upgrade, and illuminated on the screen is a video of you. You, on your knees, in lingerie. You, with your fingers dragging down your chest, across the lace that covers your breasts. Your head falls back as you run your thumbs across your nipples. A sound so angelic coming from your lips that Carmen starts to understand why people spend so much time at Church. He’s convinced you’re hand carved by God, or Buddha, or whatever might be up there. 

Carmy’s instantly feeling a rush of heat across his chest and his cheeks as he takes the sight of you in. It feels wrong but at the same time the coiling in his stomach feels so good he can’t look away quite yet. “Why the…” He’s cut off by a whine coming from Richie’s speaker as you keep teasing yourself. His brain is frying for a second as he tries to focus on finishing his sentence. “How the hell did you find this?” 

“Listen, sometimes I get bored on the same ole sites, okay? Clicked an ad to see who was live and ended up here. Now I stopped watching, obviously, out of respect but this? I’ve known you long enough to know when you gotta thing for someone and you’re not gonna act on it. Also, I caught you staring at her ass as she filled the deep freeze the other night. Kinda gave it away. So this is the way you can still get some pussy while being a fuckin’ pussy.” Richie’s punching the air, clearly proud of himself.

Carmy’s smacking him upside the head, his body now torn between lust and annoyance. “Watch your mouth, alright? That is so fucked, Richie. Put that shit anyway and I better not see you tell a single other person this exists.” 

And yeah, he took note of your screen name before he walked away. Don’t judge him. 

———★–————————–

Look - There have been a lot of times in his life where Carmen hasn’t been proud of himself. But settling back into bed, hooking his thumbs on the waistband of his boxers and pulling them down to rest under his balls? Yeah, he’s not proud to say the least. After seeing even just the glimpse of you this morning though it’s been all he could think about. The. Whole. Fucking. Day. He watched out of the corner of his eye while you bent over the line to scrub down the wall behind your station tonight. Burning to memory the way your ass just slightly jiggled from the aggressive motion of wiping down the surface. A soft grunt coming from you as you reach for something just a little too high. He finally snapped out of it when the smell of the chemicals he sprayed down on his own surface got a little too strong and refocused. 

He wasn’t proud when he ran to the restroom and contemplated just jacking off over the toilet to get some relief. You were clouding his brain, only the rush of the evening giving him some small relief. 

You seemed vocal in the small clip he saw. He’s wondering if you would have asked him to cum for you. Would you think it’s a waste that he’s cumming down the drain instead of covering your ass with it? Filling your mouth and making you swallow every drop around him? Or, Jesus Christ, would you wrap your legs around his waist and beg him not to pull out? 

So yeah. Carmy’s had quite the fucking day to say the least. 

He’s finally home and running straight to bed. His stuff dropped in a heap by the front door and was easily forgotten. Throwing himself back onto the mattress after ripping off his shirt and his pants. Left just groaning into the empty room, his cock twitching at the thought of you. Your page has been sitting on an Incognito tab all day and it’s finally, finally being loaded up. This feels like an invasion of privacy in a way but Carmen can’t quite think logically with how heavy his balls feel and how painfully hard he is. There’s not much time to spare so he clicks the first video you’ve uploaded that he can.

And there you are. 

Sitting in the middle of a big bed and rubbing your hands along your thighs, smiling at the camera. His heart is twitching, cock is twitching, everything is fucking twitching. And you’re just sitting there, licking your lips and sliding your hands under the thin material of some weird lace one piece he wants to rip off. 

“Hi there, Pretty Boy.” Your voice is music to his ears and Carmy can’t take it any longer. His fist is wrapping around his cock, a broken moan filling the room as he finally gets some relief. “I’ve been waiting for you to come home all day.”

Sue him, but he’s skipping ahead a little. There’s not much time until he cums and he needs to see you. All of you. He’s gripping his phone with one hand, bringing the other that’s around his cock up to his mouth to spit in. His thumb is haphazardly trying to keep the phone balanced while scrubbing through the video until he thinks he’s at a good spot. You’re laid back now, thighs spread for the camera and pussy on display. Carmen’s muttering to himself about how gorgeous you are, longing to tell you in person. You’re holding this royal blue dildo in your hands that’s suddenly his biggest enemy. He deserves to be there, not this stupid, useless chuck of silicone. There’s a whimper from the speaker as you take the toy and slide it along yourself, tapping it twice against your clit. “Fuck, I need you.” 

Fuckin’ hell does he needs you too. 

His fist is clamped around his dick once again, fucking his hips up into the the slick, tight grip. You’re still teasing yourself by sticking just the head of the dildo in before gasping and pulling it back out. “Please, Baby. I need you so bad, need to come for you.” His brain is breaking. An animalistic urge taking over to fuck you until you can’t move, can’t think, just a blubbering mess begging him for more. Without warning you push the dildo all the way in, throwing your head back with a pleasured scream. 

Carmy gasps, hips sputtering and losing their rhythm as he watches you fuck yourself. He’s stroking himself at the same pace you’re moving the dildo, imaging it’s you he’s fucking into. Picturing you laid under him, your breasts covered in hickies because he hates the idea of these… Perverts watching you get off. He wants to mark you, claim you as his. His balls are tightening and he can’t think of the last time he came this quick. It’s almost embarrassing - What are you doing to him? 

Your free hand comes up to shove two fingers in your mouth, lewdly sucking them for the camera. The sucking noise now accompanying the wet, addictive sounds of your pussy being fucked. Carmen whimpers, actually fucking whimpers, and twists his wrist over his cock to get a little more friction. Your voice hits him once again as you slide your wet fingers out of your mouth and down your throat. “Oh fuck I’m so close. So, so close. Are you close, Baby? Want you to come with me.” You’re lightly choking yourself, a whining mess. 

Carmy’s aware he’s talking to an empty room but he can’t stop himself. “Fuck, oh fuck. Gonna come for you.” And his stomach coils, hips sputter, the phone falling to the bed as he has to let go of it as his orgasm washes over him. He’s slack jaw, warm cum landing on his chest and the sounds of you finishing at the same time ringing out from his phone. 

Oh he’s so fucked. 

————–——★–————

Carmy slept well for once in his life. His orgasm lulling his body to sleep, dreams filled of you. How beautiful you look sucking his cock. The way you must sound while he eats you out. And he takes his time in his dream. Tongue dragging between your folds as his rough hands hold your hips in place. You’re powerless, made to lay back and let him eat you out for his own pleasure. Tongue circling around your clit but he waits until you’re close to tears to stop teasing. He’d praise you. “Look how fucking wet you are, Princess. You’re already getting the bed wet, aren’t you? Gonna have to lick you for hours to get you all cleaned up. Can you say please, huh? Ask me to suck on your clit, Baby. You know you need it.” 

He woke up hard and overstimulated, rolling over onto his stomach and pathetically dragging his hips against the warm bed to get some much needed friction along his cock. Carmy’s telling himself how pathetic this is and forcing himself to push off the bed and get into the shower before he’s late. 

Yes, he jacked off in the shower before work. 

He had to. 

Carmy can’t decide if it’s heaven or hell when he walks in to see you standing in the kitchen. 

You’re on your tiptoes, balancing haphazardly as you’re reaching up to change the light. There’s a wobbly step stool under you. Everyone keeps saying it needs to be replaced but it continues to live on. Your face is scrunching up in concentration. Carmy’s chuckling at the sight and ignoring the way he feels his balls tug at the sight of you. “What’re you doing there, Chef?” 

You huff in annoyance, finally untwisting the light cover from the ceiling. “Damn light went out right as I started veggie prep. Hate to be a bother but will you come spot me while I’m up on this thing? I’ve seen Fak bust his ass one too many times to trust it.” 

Carmy can’t verbally respond at first, instead stalking over to stand next to you. His hand comes up to cup the back of your knee and he’s lying to himself saying it’s for your own safety. To keep you balanced. “Yea well something tells me you’re less clumsy than Fak. I’ve seen that guy fall over while just standing still.” 

And you laugh. 

You laugh. At him. At his joke. He, Carmen Berzatto, made you laugh. The sound filling his ears and now his damn heart and balls are both reacting to you and what the hell is he supposed to do with all these emotions. 

“Don’t distract me up here, Chef.” He doesn’t mind taking commands from you. Silently reaching up to hold the light fixture you’re passing him as you change gears to switch out the lightbulbs now. 

And maybe his eyes are wandering around the kitchen to see who else might catch a glimpse of you two together. Everyone who’s in so far is honed in on their prep task and Carmy thanks God that Richie hasn’t shown up yet today. 

He’s become quite faithful since he started falling for you it seems. 

It happens, by chance, that you feel a little unsteady and Carmen tightens his grip on the back of your leg. Fingers digging into your soft skin. He’s looking down at the stool to make sure it’s level before looking up to take in the sight that is his hand around your leg. 

And he stops looking there. 

Okay fine that’s a fucking lie - he’s looking up. Eyes trailing up your thighs, following along the curve of your ass. When you have to lean forward just slightly to twist in the light cover he’s convinced he can see the outline of your pussy through the thin material of your leggings. He’s contemplating his options - If he could, would he lean in and lick over the outline? His warm mouth teasing you through your leggings. Through your underwear. Are you wearing underwear? He’s torn between picturing you with or without them. 

Or would he slide his hand up your leg, palming your thigh as he goes. Cupping over you and dragging his middle finger across the shape of you. Memorizing the feeling. Would you whine? Grind down against his hand? He doesn’t think you’d shoo his touch away. 

God he just knows you’re a needy little thing. 

He wonders what it would feel like for you to lick your own wetness from his jaw after he’s decided he’s done savoring you. To taste you on your own tongue when he kissed you after. You’d look so pretty with his cum dripping down your lips too. All fucked out and exhausted and full of bliss. 

“Okay, I think I got it fixed, Carmy.” God, he’s so fucked for thinking of you like this as you’re innocently changing the light. Just trying to improve the kitchen and he’s thinking about ruining you. He was so caught up in daydreaming that he didn’t even feel you take the light cover back out of his hand and screw it into place again. 

You’re beaming down at him, using his shoulders as arm rests as you bounce down from the stepping stool. His hand grazes your ass - A total accident. He swears it. You reach behind him to sit the screwdriver down, your chest firmly against his. Nothing thinking anything of the personal space violation as you’re used to it from so many slammed nights in the kitchen. 

“Thank you for helping me. Sorry it was basically just five minutes of my ass in your face.” Carmy chokes. 

His cheeks are hot. 

Fuck is he blushing? 

He’s sputtering out of his words. “It uh, it wasn’t in my face. Not that I looked, y’know. Just uh… Just - just trying to say that I’m happy to help.” He sounds like an idiot

You’re cocking an eyebrow, clearly entertained. “Holy shit, Carmy.” You pat your hands against his chest, not knowing your touch was like fire on his skin. He grabs the screwdriver and makes a beeline to the office to put it away for you. 

Sure he grabbed a rag on the way. No it’s not for him to jack off into while he thinks of you. 

Okay fine, it is. 

“Fuck me.” The only thing Carmy can risk trying to say as the door shuts heavy behind him and his pants hit the ground. 

———————–★–———

Carmen doesn’t avoid you now but he certainly makes it hard to get close to you. He’s too distracted when you’re around. Maybe there’s a bit of guilt mixed in too at his new night routine. Leave the restaurant, load your page, and wait to see what happens. New videos? New pictures? You were wormed into the back of his brain and it had to stop. 

So your station got moved further down rotation. You’re at the end of the line on the left, he’s at the start on the right. It helps clear his mind, lets him hone in on perfecting what goes to the floor. 

He’s able to move quickly, shifts blowing by as the restaurant’s rush takes all his attention. The clock clicks down two minutes till close, everyone working in silence to get the place flipped and go home. He’s wrapping up with Syd, helping her make a few adjustments to expo before grabbing a dead plate off of the end of the line and heading to the office with his food and a cup of water in hand. He needs a mental minute, a bite of food, and to let his thoughts all catch up. 

The door’s already cracked and he’s halfway through the entry way when he registers you. Sitting there. At his desk. Your legs are crossed, a cool damp towel resting over your eyes. He wants to turn on his heel and retreat but decides that he can’t treat you any differently just because he’s developed some silly little crush. Running away would be treating you different. 

“You good, Chef?” 

To which you groan. Different from the ones he’s used to - This one is guttural, pained. You press your hands flat against the rag and will the cool temperature to help the pressure in your head. “Killer migraine, that’s all. Shit was moving so fast tonight and I wacked the back of my head on something in the walk in. Sorry for being in here, Carm. Just uh, needed a second.” You should push up out of the chair, show your respect. But right now you’re half convinced that standing up would be detrimental so for now you’re cemented to the seat. 

“Heard.” Carmen nods to himself, sitting down the plate before opening up the desk drawer as quietly as possible. Your knee is pressing into the side of his thigh, grounding and warm. He fishes out a bottle of medicine, shaking out two pills. “Hold out your hand.” 

You take a second to brace yourself for movement, sitting up and moving the towel off your eyes. Letting it pile up into a clump on the desk besides you. There’s no way around it - You look pitiful. Pouting up at Carmen as he hands over two pills and his cup out water. You take the pills diligently, taking a few gulps and letting your eyes fall back closed as you will them to kick in instantly. “Can I ask a favor?” 

“Anything, Chef.” 

Slowly, so not to shake yourself up, you turn the chair until your back is to Carmen. “Will you see if I gotta bump back there? Kinda terrified I gave myself a concussion but I don’t wanna believe it was that hard.” 

He snickering, a grin pulling up the corners of his mouth as he steps closer. “Well you’d absolutely fuck me if you needed to file workmen’s comp so I’m gonna need you to be fine, ‘kay? Way too much fuckin’ paperwork to do on a Friday night.” You start to laugh but it’s quickly cut off into a small groan of appreciation as you feel warm, rough hands clasp either side of your shoulders. 

Carmen works his way up your neck and catches himself holding his breath as his fingers brush along your scalp. He’s taking his time, savoring the moment, all under the pretense of taking care of his employee. That’s all. “Think we’re both in the clear. You feeling alright besides the headache? Need me to hold up some fingers for ya to guess? Haven’t managed to cut any off so we’ve got all ten to work with.” He’s got you laughing again while rough fingers work their way back down to your neck. The feeling of the vibration of your laughter against his hands sending chills down his back. 

Wordlessly Carmen gets to work rubbing your shoulders. Tender, deep. Years of practice rolling out dough and desserts and tenderizing meat coming into play as he continues to knead away at your tense body. You let out an appreciative moan and Carmen has to start thinking of something to keep his inevitable hard on from being obvious. 

When his hands come up closer to your neck once again he’s hit with flashbacks of the first video he watched. You choking yourself — Is that something you truly liked? If his hand came around to cup your throat, palm resting on one side with his fingertips firmly against the other, and lightly squeezed would you moan? Rub your thighs together in search of some hint of relief? 

“Are you always this good with your hands, Chef? Hmm? Can’t imagine you giving Marcus this treatment.” You’re laughing and can practically hear the smirk in Carmen’s voice as he responds. “Yeah - You uh, didn’t know that? I just love you know, rubbing shoulders. It’s my thing. Kick your ass all night and then rub the stress out.” 

He’s blanching a little at his reply. Kinda obvious but okay then, Carmen. You reach up, putting your hands atop his with a little smile. “Well thank you for… Rubbing my stress out, Chef.” 

Carmen’s red. Head to toe just bright red. “Of course, Chef. Anytime.” He’s entertaining to say the least as you pat his hands before spinning around in his chair. You snag another drink of water, throwing him a wink before moving to exit the office. Your hand runs along his chest, an appreciative gesture, as you head back to the floor. 

——————————★–

Late Saturday night Carmen’s so exhausted that he barely has the energy to take his work clothes off. Falling haphazardly onto his old couch, kicking his work boots off one at a time. His eyes are heavy, body aching, and he almost falls asleep before he gets to see you. 

But he’s fishing his phone from his pocket, refreshing the all too familiar landing page to see you’re actively live. How you have the energy is beyond him. 

You’re standing there trying on clothes that someone must send in and Carmy feels a pang of jealousy. He’s watching through half hooded eyes as you slip in a pair of shorts, turning your behind towards the camera and pulling them up just slightly to put more of your ass on display. You’re chatting away about the material while slowly pulling them down to reveal just this frilly little pair of panties that was sent in as well. 

He’s propping the phone up on the armrest of the couch, laying on his side while he watches you chat away. It’s soothing. Almost like an ASMR video. 

Carmen’s not sure when he fell asleep - Somewhere in-between you trying on a third outfit and attempting to clean up your bed from all the packaging. He finds you soothing, comforting. He makes a mental note to hunt out some sort of wish list you must have for these items before passing out and, once again, dreaming of you.

[hairmetal666]

Steve doesn't date, not anymore. He goes to bars, clubs, picks people up and makes it clear it's just for the night; that it can't, won't, be for anything more.

He falls too fast and too hard; wants so badly to be loved that he loses himself to it. So, he doesn't date and he's fine. More than fine, actually. Not worrying about finding someone, about falling in love, lets him truly enjoy his life; maybe for the first time since childhood.

He goes with Robin to visit her parents in Hawkins, wakes up at the ass crack of dawn to go for a run. With the sun barely up, he doesn't expect to come face-to-face with Eddie Munson, smoking on a park bench.

They startle each other in the early Hawkins quiet, Eddie jumping hard enough that he drops his cigarette into the dirt at his feet.

"Christ, Harrington!" He snarls a little.

"Fuck, Eddie." Steve fights to catch his breath. "What are you doing out this early?"

He glances up, finds Eddie's eyes raking over this body in a way that makes him go hot all over.

"Haven't been home yet." Eddie smirks. And he can see that's true, Eddie is fully dressed, faint lines of mascara trail across his cheeks.

"Had a show?"

"Something like that." Eddie's cheeks pink, and he pulls a chunk of hair over his face.

Understanding dawns, and Steve points at him, delighted laugh bubbling in his throat.

"Don't--"

"You had an all night Hellfire meeting?" Steve cackles.

"Shut--Harrington, shut-up." But he's smiling too. "I'm in town this weekend. Dustin insisted!"

"You can tell him no, you know?" Steve giggles.

"Like you ever could."

Eddie stands then, and they hug, quick and tight. He practically crumbles into his friend's body, but then, that's nothing new. Steve breathes him in, immediately comforted by the familiarity of tobacco and leather and sweat and weed.

"I'm at Rob's. Come say hi?"

Eddie nods and they trek back together. They kept in touch, after Vecna, and their chatting is easy, like it's not been six months since the last time.

Eddie stays for breakfast tells them with a smile, "I was gonna call but--I'm moving to Chicago. That's why I'm crashing at Wayne's for now, stopped on the way--"

The rest of his words are smothered by the force of Steve and Robin's hug, Steve's heart beating an elated rhythm he doesn't bother investigating.

--

When Eddie makes it to town, they hang out as constantly as an adult with a day job and a touring musician can. It's nice, good, to see Eddie sitting on their couch. To watch him smoke a joint on the balcony. To hangout in his bed as he works on new music. It's just like the summer of '86, before they all went off to find their futures.

They're closer than they've ever been. Crashing at each other's apartments, sharing clothes, meeting for coffee and drinks and meals. There's not a day or night when they're free that they don't spend together.

Steve knows he's falling for Eddie; was halfway there already, and now--well, Eddie's beautiful and funny and smart and talented. He doesn't make a move, though. Because Eddie'll leave, like they all do, and losing Eddie will crush him more than anyone else ever has.

--

In June, Eddie's gone for a month, touring across the midwest. The day he's expected back, Steve's in the kitchen, rolling up fresh pasta, simmering sauce on the stove.

Robin stomps in, eyes flashing. "What are you doing?"

"Making dinner?" Steve raises an eyebrow.

"Steve."

"Robin."

They glare at each other across the kitchen. Steve breaks first. "What's wrong with making our friend dinner?"

"I don't want either of you to get hurt."

Steve freezes, swallows. "I'm not--I'm--I wouldn't."

"Just. Promise you'll be careful?"

He nods, squeezes his hands into fists. "Course, Rob."

And he means it, he really does, but when Eddie lets himself in, Steve runs to the doorway to pull his friend into a tight hug.

Eddie huffs out a burst of air on impact, laughing lightly. "Miss me, sweetheart?"

"So much," Steve whispers. He presses his nose into Eddie's neck, breathing him in, and he doesn't miss the way a kiss is pressed into his hair, the way Eddie's breathing him in too.

They fall into their natural rhythm immediately, Eddie following him to the kitchen, cooing and posturing that Steve made him dinner.

As Steve serves up the food, Eddie wraps his arms around his waist, leaning against his back. God help him, but Steve can't help relax into the hold, turning his head until their eyes meet.

Desire bleeds from Eddie's gaze, and Steve's breath hitches. He wants this so badly, knows he shouldn't, but he lets himself lean in until they share air.

But--he can't lose Eddie. He can't.

He turns away, lets the moment die. Eddie doesn't stay over that night, and Steve pretends like it doesn't make his stomach hurt.

--

They aren't as close after that.

Steve keeps telling himself it's because they're busy. The school year's starting up, Steve's got lesson plans to write; Eddie made an EP, it got interest, he's taking meetings in New York and LA. It's okay that they're spending less time together.

Until Eddie stops returning his calls.

He tries not to worry. But one call becomes two, becomes three, and he can't help it. He goes over, dread a knot in his stomach. Eddie opens the door, and he's shirtless with sweatpants slung low on his hips, hair loose and streaming around his shoulders. He looks happy.

"Steve? What are you--"

"You weren't answering my calls, and--can I come in?"

Eddie winces. "It's not a good time, Harrington."

He stands there for a second, stung, not sure what to say.

"Eddie, I--"

"Babe?" A voice calls from inside the apartment. "Who's at the door?"

Steve freezes. Can't think, can't move. He hopes it isn't obvious that his heart is shattering, but Eddie's blinking at him, panic written in the lines gathering on his forehead.

"Steve, Stevie, please," Eddie is saying, but he can't do this. He can't do this.

He walks away, all the way home, numb to everything around him.

The phone's ringing when he gets to the apartment. He ignores it. Goes to his room, locks himself in, crawls into bed.

The phone keeps ringing. He keeps ignoring it.

It isn't supposed to be like this. They weren't dating, weren't trying for a relationship; Eddie's supposed to be his. He curls into himself, sobs until his ribs hurt, until his eyes are as heavy as his heart, and he falls asleep.

--

Steve startles awake, disoriented, to someone knocking on his bedroom door. He has no idea what time it is, how long he slept, but he expects Robin to be waiting in the hall.

It's Eddie. Hair in a messy bun, face flushed, eyes too bright.

"I'm sorry," falls out of Steve's mouth before he can think of anything else.

"Steve, I--I don't--" Eddie shakes his head. "Do you want to be in a relationship with me?"

"Yes," Steve whispers. "But I can't lose you, Eddie."

Eddie reaches out, slender hand, cupping Steve's jaw. "I need you to really listen when I say this, sweetheart. You will never, ever lose me. Not a chance."

"You can't know that," Steve says. Tears break free, cascade down his cheeks. "I used to think who could ever leave me? You know, back before Nancy. But I realized that actually no one would stay. And I can't--with you I can't--"

"Sweetheart," Eddie chokes on a sob. "I'm yours. Have been for years. I will never, ever leave you, no matter what we are to each other. But I can't be in some of a relationship with you. You have me wrapped around your finger, and I--I need it all, Steve."

"I want you to have it, Eddie." He presses his hand to his heart. "This belongs to you, but I--I couldn't survive you leaving."

"I would stay, Steve. I will. I promise on everything I have, everything I am, that you would never, ever lose me."

Steve stumbles into Eddie's arms, totally gone, and their mouths meet in a clumsy kiss. It wrecks Steve, tears him apart, renders him down to his smallest parts only to build him back together. He knows now for certain that there is no one else in the world for him.

They break apart, but don't move out of each other's orbit. "I love you," Steve whispers.

"Stevie, sweetheart, I love you more than anything." His fingers wind their way into Steve's hair, gentle, holding him. "I promise you'll have me for forever--fuck, longer than forever. My soul will find yours wherever we end up. I swear it."

[freedomfireflies]

Better Not Pout*

Summary: The one where Harry isn't leaving until he gets what he really came for.

You.

Word Count: 10.6k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, violence, guns, gunplay, exhibitionism (This one-shot is a bit darker, so please only read if you feel comfortable! 💞)

December 24th, 1945.

The streets of Chicago are cold. Windy. Dark. Everyone is either at home, visiting loved ones, or spending their Christmas Eve at the one place they know they’ll be welcome.

The Bees Knees – the renowned, underground speakeasy – is rather sparkling tonight. The customers continue to bustle in, some here for the booze, some here for the atmosphere and warmth, and some for the entertainment.

You.

You’re one of the establishments best performers, three nights of the week. Employed by none other than Johnny Winters himself to sing for the lost souls of Chicago as they drown their worries in a bottle of whiskey.

You quite like your job, and the people you work with. Milton, who tends the bar, always has a compliment to lend, offering you engaging small talk between sets or any new mixes he might make.

And Johnny isn’t so bad. But perhaps you’re a bit biased, seeing as he is your fiancé. But more than that, he’s one of the most powerful men in all of town. And considerably wealthy, which you suppose doesn’t exactly hurt.

But he’s also kind. Giving. And so very attentive. He spends every second he’s not working with you. Doting on you, showing you off to all of his friends. And having such a handsome man on your arm is certainly not the worst thing.

Tonight, however, Johnny is nowhere to be found. Which you don’t consider to be too terribly odd, given how much work he mentioned he’d be catching up on. 

Even still, he hates to miss your performances, and insisted that you keep a part of him with you as you take center stage tonight in the small bar.

That part happens to be in the form of a stunning red, silk dress that was gifted to you for this very occasion. It sits on your frame like it was always meant to be yours, hugging every desirable curve, and showcasing just enough skin to taunt the imagination of those in the audience.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt so beautiful, and you walk up the steps tonight with pride. Shoulders back and painted lips poised with your first song.

The few gentlemen scattered across the main floor holler when the spotlight finds you, and you offer your signature smile.

“Evening, gentleman,” you call as the pianist begins behind you. “How are you all doing tonight?”

A few whistles are offered that make you laugh, and just like that…the show begins.

Santa Claus Came in the Spring is always a favorite, and you croon the festive lyrics while the live band follows your lead.

And even though the crowd is rather dull and distracted, you have a blast. You feel comfortable in this role and in the way their eyes drink you in. Even if their attention drifts between you, their drinks, and the cigars.

In fact, you get so swept up in your act that you hardly notice the door open or the tall, lanky stranger that slinks in from the cold.

But when his head lifts, and his eyes find yours, you feel a hitch in your throat.

Unfortunately, he looks away all too quickly, pulling off his trench coat before moving along the shadows toward the far end of the bar.

He goes unnoticed by those around him, yet your attention follows him all the way to the booth that he settles in. And it stays even after he’s leaned back, gotten comfortable, and pulled a cigarette from his rather expensive looking suit pocket.

But even though your focus has drifted, you don’t miss a single beat of the song. After all, you could sing it in your sleep, and this habit serves you well as the intriguing stranger finally shifts into the light and allows you a better look at his face.

He’s…stunning. Absolutely beautiful, with his slicked back curls, sharp jaw, and pointed nose. And he’s lighting the end of a cigarette with what you can only call practiced precision before perching it between his two, crimson-colored lips. 

Rings adorn his fingers as he holds the nicotine to his mouth, inhaling a long drag before exhaling the dark smoke from his lungs.

Yet unlike the other patrons in the bar, this man seems to be rather put together. He’s not missing any teeth, his skin isn’t stained with dirt or grease, and his clothes appear to be rather new. It’s quite the upgrade from the usual appearance you’ve grown used to, and you can’t help but feel rather relaxed.

And it’s now that you realize that this striking stranger seems to be watching you much like you’re watching him. Studying your dress, your silhouette, the way you grip the microphone stand. He takes in each detail presented before him with what looks to be wonder, and your cheeks instantly grow warm.

Still, you carry on with the ballad, making your way through the final chorus and the last few notes as the band plays you out with a flourish.

The few men in front of the stage clap, and you smile gratefully as you nod your thanks and call out your appreciation.

Jingle Bells is next, and a few more people join in on the fun this time around. They clink their glasses together or belt out the lyrics a few seconds too late and wildly off-key.

Even still, it’s rather fun as you continue on with your set before finally wrapping it up with a high note that’s accompanied by a rather lively trumpet solo.

And once it’s all over, the room bursts into applause. You wave to the growing audience, taking a quick bow before gesturing toward the band. Offering them their due praise which the crowed quickly obliges.

But you notice the man in the booth keeps his expression indifferent as he continues to watch you exit the stage and make your way to the bar. He doesn’t applaud your performance or even offer a smile of encouragement. He merely takes another hit of his cigarette and throws his arm over the back of his seat. A position you imagine is intended to display dominance more than it is to find comfort.

Truth be told, you find it rather unnerving. He doesn’t seem to be here for the alcohol or the company. Perhaps he’s only here to get out of the cold or perhaps he’s avoiding his home.

Either way, his focus stays only with you, and you feel a sharp chill run down your spine as you turn to the counter and flag down Milton’s attention.

You ask for a drink and request that he tell Johnny that you’ll be waiting in his office until he arrives. 

He quickly agrees, preparing the beverage for you before jutting his chin toward the silent stranger.

“Want me to have him escorted out?” he asks, but you only smile as you shake your head.

“No need, I’m sure he’s harmless.” You take the crystal glass and tip it toward him in thanks. “Besides, the attention is rather nice.”

Milton nods his understanding and you leave it at that, taking your drink toward the hallway just off the corner of the room.

You sip leisurely as you stroll to Johnny’s office, picking up the edge of your long gown so it doesn’t drag on the floor. The sounds of the crowd grow quieter and quieter with each step you take, and soon, it’s nothing but silence.

After retrieving the key Johnny insisted you keep on you at all times, you slip open the door, and make your way inside.

It’s quite dark, given the time of night and lack of lighting. He’s only got three lamps in the room, one by the window, one on the shelf, and one on his desk.

Right beside a photo of you.

Getting your photograph taken is quite the privilege, but Johnny insisted he have a vision of you in his office at all times. And you couldn’t help but indulge him, allowing him to dress you up and place you in front of the large contraption one Sunday afternoon in spring.

It’s his favorite thing in the entire world, and he mentions it constantly. Commenting on your beauty or your ethereal outfit. You know he’s only trying to embarrass you, but it’s still rather flattering to hear.

You grin to yourself as you take a seat in the large chair behind the wooden table. Downing the rest of the contents in your glass before setting it down and taking a glance around the large space.

Vaguely, you hear footsteps approaching just outside the door. Echoing through the hall as your grin grows a bit wider. 

And as the knob turns, you expect to see the handsome face of your Johnny.

What you don’t expect, however, is the green-eyed devil and his quiet charm.

He’s followed you. You assume this immediately, and your heart leaps into your throat as he steps inside…and shuts the door behind him.

A tense silence settles between you as you slowly sit up and force in a quiet breath. “Hello,” you call quietly.

The sound of your unsteady voice seems to amuse him, the corner of his mouth curling up as the burning cigarette sits tucked between his lips. “Hello, mama.”

You feel your lashes flutter. “Can…can I help you?”

“I’m looking for your fiancé,” he says, and his voice is low. Deep. And you believe you catch just a hint of an English accent. “This is in fact his office, is it not?”

You hesitate, unsure whether or not to disclose such information to a stranger. “It…yes. Yes, but he’s not here right now. Perhaps you could come back later?”

“Later,” he repeats, almost thoughtfully as his head tilts. Then, he tsks. “See, I’m afraid later just doesn’t work for me. I need to speak with him right now. It’s quite urgent, and I’d like to finish this up and be home to my lover by midnight.”

“Oh…” You shift a bit in your seat and hope he doesn’t notice how nervous you’ve become. “Well, I would love to help, but I don’t believe I know when he’ll be in.”

He considers this for a moment before striding further into the room. Eyes tracking every tremble of your fingers and heave of your chest. “Can I tell you a secret, mama?” he murmurs, placing both hands on the desk and leaning closer.

You nod.

“Your boy Johnny owes me money,” he whispers. “And I’m here to collect.”

And now you understand. Now you know why he’s here. Because even though his tone is friendly, it can’t disguise the threat you know lingers underneath. 

“Oh,” you whisper back, and he hums.

“Exactly. And I’m a pretty reasonable guy. Decent. So, I’ll make you a deal.” He begins to smirk behind the cigarette. “If he’s not here within the next five minutes…you and I will find another way.”

The truth is, you don’t really know too much about the financial side of Johnny’s affairs and business. You know he has plenty of money, but you don’t know what he does with it. Or where he keeps it.

And if this alluring stranger seems to think you’ll be his key…you’re afraid he’ll be mistaken.

“Problem, Doll?” He seems smug, and it makes your skin crawl. “M’not scaring you, am I?”

The answer is obvious to you both, but you force yourself straighter and attempt to appear calm. “Not at all, sir. I only want to help.”

"Mm? Good girl,” he mumbles, eyes flicking down to your painted red lips. “Knew you’d behave for me.”

Your heart is hammering inside of your chest. You’re unsure what to do now. Do you ask him to leave? Do you scream for help? Do you call the police?

And where the hell is Johnny?

He should be here by now, especially after promising to wrap up his meeting early in order to catch your last performance before Christmas. He’s always here. One of your biggest fans and greatest protectors. 

The only thing you can truly think to do now is attempt to call him. You figure the police won’t get here in time, but at least if this gentleman can be assured that Johnny is on his way, he won’t be as inclined to act rashly.

However, the moment your fingers lift from the desk in order to reach for the phone, the stranger reaches for something, too.

In a matter of seconds, he’s wrapping his hand around the barrel of a gun, pulling it from his back pocket, and aiming it straight at your head. Cocking it loudly as you gasp and withdraw your arm as quickly as possible.

“What are you doin’, hm, mama?” There’s a haughty condescension in his sneer, laced with just the faintest disappointment. “Thought you were gonna be good.”

“I…I was just going to call him,” you stammer. “I know you’re in a hurry.”

The stranger studies you now, that familiar smirk beginning to fade as his attention flicks across your face. Perhaps he suspects a lie or perhaps he merely doesn’t trust you, but truth be told, you know better than to try and pull a fast one on him. 

Finally, he plucks his cigarette from between his lips before tossing it to the floor and nodding at you. “Yeah? Go on, then,” he instructs, reposition the barrel at your chest. “Call your little pretty boy. Tell him he’s got a visitor.”

With a racing pulse, you once again slowly reach for the telephone, eyeing the gun carefully as you scoot closer.

You’re careful not to make any sudden moments. Hesitant to even look at him for fear of upsetting him, but your timid demeanor only entertains him further.

He simply chuckles as he slowly makes his way over to your side of the desk. Snatching up the phone just before you can reach for it and handing it to you almost cockily.

Curious, you glance up. That soft green in his eye is almost alluring, even despite the circumstance. Still, he reeks of nicotine and expensive cologne, and you lean back in an attempt to put as much space between you as you can.

He smiles. “I’m gonna watch you dial,” he tells you calmly. “Make sure you keep your word. Okay, Doll?”

Posed like a question, although you both know you don’t exactly have a choice. And you'd likely point this out if you were just a touch braver, but nevertheless, you nod. Agreeing to his terms as you take the phone and begin to dial.

As the seconds go by, you feel him watching you closely while the line rings. Leaving you to desperately await the sound of your sweet Johnny’s voice. A sound you’ve never needed more than in this moment.

Yet his voice never comes, and your heart sinks to the cold floor blow as you return the phone to the desk.

“He…he must already be on his way,” you murmur, and the man hums.

“You think so?”

You nod weakly.

He takes a seat on the edge of the desk, just inches from your arm before leaning closer. “How much are you willing to bet, hm?” His brow raises. “How sure are you that your precious fiancé will actually save you tonight?”

You feel trapped by him now. The closer he moves, the faster your heart pounds. You have nowhere to run, no personal space to disappear into. 

But you only have to hold on for just a little longer. Johnny will come for you. He always does.

“Incredibly sure,” you respond, ignoring the slight waver in your voice. “He said he would be, so he will.”

The man considers this before clicking his tongue. “All right. Then how about I make you another deal, yeah? For every minute he’s late, and for every minute he leaves you here unattended…I’ll put an extra bullet through his head.”

A sharp chill runs down your spine, skin growing hot and prickly, but you force your expression to remain unfazed. “And why would you do that if you need him so badly?”

The gentleman laughs now. A sound that would almost be charming if he weren’t so vile. “Because I don’t need your precious Johnny,” he answers calmly. “I just need what’s in his safe.”

And despite the danger you’re in and despite your better judgment, your features scrunch into a grimace as you scoff, “Oh, how pathetic.”

Your reaction loosens his smile.

“Truly, how incredibly pathetic to come all the way down here at this time of night – and on Christmas Eve – just to break into his safe,” you huff. “Honestly. He won’t give you a damn thing. And you have absolutely no business to come storming in here and—”

You don’t get the chance to finish the rest of your furious scolding before he’s suddenly standing to his feet and wrapping his fingers around your arm.

Instantly, you’re yanked from your chair and shoved against the bookcase just behind you. Hard enough to knock the wind from your lungs as he traps you there, leaning in so close, his nose nearly brushes your own. 

“I’d be careful how you fucking speak to me, mama,” he seethes quietly, yet even still, there’s just an air of pleasure. “Because you might not get the chance to do it again.”

He’s desperate to scare you. Desperate to see you cry, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction.

Instead, you suck in a sharp breath, and do the one thing you can think to do:

You spit.

The collection of saliva just misses his eye, landing on his cheek with a rather wet splat until the amusement fades and fury takes its place.

His fingers leave your arm and find your throat, curling around the delicate skin and forcing your head up as he begins to chuckle darkly.

“So, that’s how you wanna play, hm, Doll?” Another tsk. “You wanna be bad? Wanna test my fucking patience?”

You squirm a bit in his hold, yet for some reason, you don’t feel as frightened as you did before. Because there’s this look in his eye – this hunger. And even though his grip is tight…you feel oddly safe.

“Better find a way to keep this pretty little mouth shut,” he says next, head cocking to the left almost curiously. “Or I’ll have to shut it for you.” 

His attention returns to your mouth, fingers slowly slipping up toward your chin until he can brush is thumb over the painted fibers of your lips.

Just enough to taunt you yet startle you all in the same second. 

“Maybe,” you finally breathe before jerking your head away from his cruel touch. “If you knew how.”

The cocky grin widens as his hand immediately returns to your neck. “Still disobeying me, hm?” he nearly purrs. “Guess I could always just squeeze this sweet, little throat to keep you quiet, yeah? Feel your pretty pulse beneath my fingertips. Feel the life drain from your body…watch the light go out in your eyes.”

You take in a strained inhale, and he makes a sound that almost sounds like a groan.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, moving in just a bit closer until his lips are ghosting across yours. “Or maybe…I could put my gun in your mouth. See how chatty you are then, yeah, mama?”

Your chest heaves anxiously, but you find just enough confidence to whisper, “But without your gun, how will everyone know what a tiny cock you have?”

And you’re so proud of yourself. So endlessly pleased with the way you’ve managed to make his smug expression waver, even if he keeps his smirk in place.

“Oh, you think that’s funny,” he snorts as you attempt to bite back a laugh. “Well, you wanna know what I think is funny? I think it’s funny that you said Johnny would be here…and he’s not.”

“He will be,” you retort, a bit firmer. “He will.”

“See…you keep saying that,” he muses, placing one hand on the bookshelf beside your head. Truly trapping you beneath him. “And yet…your noble fiancé still isn’t here to save you.”

You tilt your head back in an attempt to appear stronger, but it doesn’t seem to fool him. 

“Are you afraid?” he whispers, chest brushing against yours. “Are you afraid your Johnny won’t be able to keep you safe from the bad man?”

It’s almost hostile, the way he goads you. And yet you can hear just the slightest concern beneath his question.

“Or maybe you’re afraid he can’t pay up,” he continues. “Maybe you’re afraid he’ll have to find another way.”

Suddenly, the grip on your throat constricts. Recapturing your attention.

“Are you gonna be my other way, mama?” he exhales. “You gonna be my consolation prize?”

You feel dizzy. The room is spinning. And you aren’t sure if that’s because of the hold on your neck or the way he’s speaking to you. 

However, before you can decide if you’re actually intrigued by his intimidation tactics…the sound of footsteps echo outside through the hall.

Johnny.

It has to be him. You almost need it to be him, and your shoulders unwind as the man glances toward the closed door curiously before finally leaning back.

Then, he grabs onto your arm for a second time, and flings you back toward the chair. Shoving you down and keeping you still.

“You’re gonna sit here and you’re gonna keep your fucking mouth shut,” he hisses softly right as the door swings open. “And then maybe…I just might reward you.”

But you don’t even mind this malicious threat because then you see him. Your fiancé, smiling brightly as his eyes find you before they flick to the man to your right.

For a moment, he seems surprised, seemingly assessing your position and the situation before his grin widens. 

“Ah, Mr. Styles,” he calls as he strides into the room, quickly removing his hat and coat. “What a pleasant surprise. Did we have a meeting tonight?”

He seems relaxed. Almost too relaxed, as though he doesn’t view this man as a threat, and you aren’t sure whether to feel relieved or wildly confused. You hadn’t exactly expected him to grab the mysterious guest by the collar and throw him out the window, but you also didn’t expect him to welcome him with open arms. 

A strange man is alone with his future wife, in his office, in the middle of the night, and that doesn’t seem to concern him even a little?

Perhaps Johnny is far too friendly for his own good.

The gentleman, in turn, straightens up while subtly slipping the gun behind his back. Tucking it into his belt just out of view before Johnny can catch it. “Not quite,” he says coolly. “I’m here to discuss a bit of unfinished business.”

Your heart sinks, yet Johnny merely nods. “Ah, I see. Well, is there any way this can wait until after Christmas? It’s been a long night, and I’d like to be getting the lovely lady home.”

Now, both of their stares turn to you, and eagerly, you begin to rise from the chair. Grateful for the opportunity to leave this unsettling stranger behind.

Yet before you can even find your footing, the man’s hand is coming down in a firm smack on your shoulder to force you back down.

“I’m afraid the lovely lady isn’t going anywhere,” he replies, and you catch Johnny’s expression fall. “And neither are you. Have a seat.”

Johnny begins to frown. “Look, Harry, whatever business we might have, I’m sure it can—”

“I said, have…a seat,” the man – Harry – repeats a bit brasher. “Yeah? Or things will get a lot worse for your darling fiancé.”

Johnny hesitates, eyes flicking to yours. But he must notice the panicked look you wear because he finally sighs and does as instructed. Taking a seat in the chair just in front of the desk before glancing toward Harry.

Harry nods, almost proudly. “There you go. S’not so hard, is it?”

Johnny’s figure slumps but his lips purse together. “What do you want?”

“Oh, I just want to talk,” Harry says, his smirk returning. “And lucky for you, your schedule just cleared up.”

“Harry—” Johnny begins, leaning closer as though getting ready to stand.

But instantly, Harry is reaching back behind him for the gun, pulling it free, and aiming the barrel straight at his head.

Johnny quickly leans back, eyeing the weapon hesitantly while you gasp and glance up at the stranger pleadingly.

Harry only looks at Johnny. “See, I’m running out of fucking patience. Eight goddamn months I’ve had to listen to you go on and on about this special fucking shipment you got. And now…it’s time to collect.”

Your sweet fiancé understands now. Realizes why this man is here and how real the threat is, and glances back at you almost apologetically.

You merely mouth, “It’s okay.”

Johnny’s eyes flick back to the gun. “I’d be careful waving that thing around. Somebody might get hurt.”

The man merely hums. “Oh, I’m fucking counting on it.”

Now, the office grows quiet. A tense, charged sort of energy that filters between the three of you as Harry begins to walk around the desk.

“So,” he continues, grabbing onto the other free chair in order to spin it around and sit in a straddle, “where’s the safe, Johnny?”

Johnny’s brow raises, but his Adam’s apple bobs with a thick swallow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you do. Down at the club, you said you just got a brand new, fancy safe to hold everything from your latest shipment. Practically bragged about it to the whole goddamn bar, yeah? So…where is it?”

With piqued interest, you look between the two men curiously as you await Johnny’s answer. You’ve never really been sure where he gets all his money. You assumed most of it came from the bar and alcohol sales, so you’re rather stumped by what sort of shipment they might be referring to.

However, Johnny isn’t so quick to divulge all his secrets. “And what is it you’re expecting to get out of my safe, Mr. Styles?”

There’s another heavy pause as Harry rests his arms over the back of the seat and whispers, “Everything.”

Instantly, Johnny scoffs. “You think you can storm into my office on Christmas Eve and threaten my fiancé? Threaten me? That you’re entitled to anything you damn well please?” A bitter scoff as he leans back. “You’ll be arrested before morning, and you’ll never see a red fucking cent.”

 His retort dangles between them for only a moment as a breath catches in your throat. Pulse racing as you watch the stranger’s reaction closely.

Yet the mystery man doesn’t so much as flinch as he suddenly repositions the gun into the air, aims it just to the left of Johnny’s head, and fires.

The sound is deafening, much like your sharp, shrill shriek as the bullet flies through the air – just missing Johnny’s ear – and lodges into the wall behind him.

Johnny immediately flinches, eyes screwing shut and muscles recoiling before he seems to realize that he remains unharmed.

And once he does, he takes a deep breath, and begins to smirk. “You missed.”

“Did I?” Harry runs his tongue over his bottom lip before re-cocking the gun. “No, see…I never fucking miss. That was your first warning.” 

Johnny simply snorts. “Yeah? Well, eat my shit.”

Things move quickly from there.

Harry is instantly on his feet, tossing the chair aside rather angrily before he’s turning to you once more. And you don’t even have a moment to think before you’re being yanked from the seat for a second time and immediately tugged to his chest as he presses the barrel of the gun into the side of your temple. 

“Where’s the fucking safe, Johnny?” he says again, and you notice Johnny’s face pale.

“Styles,” Johnny murmurs, “you don’t have to do this—”

“The safe,” he seethes. “Where is it? Or do you need a little incentive, huh? Need to see her pretty little brains all over your goddamn floor? Is that what it’s gonna take?”

Poor Johnny doesn’t know what to do. He looks from the gun, to your face, to the arm keeping you hostage.

And you almost feel bad for him, yet you aren’t even afforded the chance for empathy before Harry furiously growls and shoves you in Johnny’s direction.

You stumble across the wooden floor until Johnny can quickly take you into his embrace, keeping you safe from the bad man as you begin to sniffle.

“My love,” he whispers, tightening his hold on your trembling frame while turning you away as if to protect you. “It’s gonna be all right, I promise.”

With a quick nod and a hiccup, you look up and slip your hands around his neck for comfort. “I know.”

He smiles.

It’s Harry’s disgusted sneer that brings you attention back. “Fucking pathetic. Really, mama? This is who you choose to save you?”

Your features fall ever-so-slightly while Johnny begins to pull you behind him, shielding you from the aggravated aggressor. “If you need money so badly, there are plenty of other ways.”

“It’s not just about money,” Harry retorts calmly. “It’s about your money. Yeah? So where’s the fucking safe.”

“None of your goddamn business—”

The reply no sooner leaves his mouth before there’s another gunshot fired into the air. 

One of the paintings on the wall falls with a crack and you jump almost two feet into the air, nails scratching down Johnny’s nice shirt.

“Johnny,” you whisper faintly, refusing to let this go on any longer. “Johnny, tell him. Tell him, please. I don’t care about the money; I don’t care about any of it. I just want you. I love you, and I can’t lose you.”

The office falls silent as you request hangs in the air, and you feel Johnny take in a deep breath.

“Yeah, Johnny,” Harry adds in a condescending murmur. “She loves you. Don’t make her watch you die. It’d be such a shameful waste of her tears.”

Johnny looks to you, and your expression softens. “It’s okay,” you tell him. “It’s okay, I promise.”

Finally, he sighs. “Under the desk.”

Harry’s head whips toward the large table curiously before he frowns. “Where?” he murmurs before repositioning the gun at Johnny’s chest. “I promise you don’t wanna lie to me.”

However, Johnny’s indifferent expression remains. “Under the desk,” he repeats while thrusting his chin toward the massive piece of furniture. 

And now Harry seems to understand, although it does little to relax him as he suddenly reaches for you again and yanks you from your lovers’ arms.

“Show me,” he hisses, keeping you hostage again while ushering Johnny forward with the barrel of the weapon. “And don’t be dense.”

And Johnny can do nothing but obey, seemingly defeated while sending you one last remorseful look. Finally moving to lift the desk and pull it back.

The sound of wood scraping against wood is heavy, and it takes him quite a while to relocate the table beneath the window by himself. 

But once it’s out of the way, you notice a particular part of the flooring juts out. The rotten board almost askew.

You and Harry lean closer, both magnetized by intrigue as he bends down in order to wrench the board up, revealing the hollow hiding place underneath.

And there you find it. The large, black box with a gold dial in the middle.

He glances up toward Harry, perhaps looking for permission – which Harry quickly gives him – before reaching down to put in the correct combination.

And after a couple seconds of clicking and turning…the door swings open.

Truth be told, you were hoping to find a secret gun that might help you out of this situation, but it seems there are no weapons to be found as Harry shoves you back in order to get a better look.

He no longer seems concerned about Johnny or the possibility that he might attempt to attack because Johnny seems to have given up. 

All your dejected fiancé does is straighten up and motion you back to him, watching Harry bend over and reach inside the safe almost uninterestedly. 

Your heart aches for him, yet you can’t help feeling relieved. You’re a few steps closer to this wretched night being over, and perhaps once Harry has what he came for, you’ll be able to leave.

“Are you all right?” Johnny whispers to you now as Harry begins to unload the contents in the floor. 

You nod quickly, clinging to his strong frame as though you’re scared you might be taken again. “Yes, I’m all right. Are you?”

“I will be once I know you’re safe,” he says, and your heart sinks.

Once everything inside the safe has been shoved into a bag, Harry turns to the two of you. “That was a good start, Winters. Now where’s the rest of it?”

Johnny frowns. “I don’t know what you mean. Everything I have is in there.”

But Harry only tsks as he sets the items down and begins to stride closer, making you curl even further into Johnny’s embrace. “Come on, now,” he mumbles almost tauntingly. “You know what I really want. And you know that you’re gonna fucking tell me. Isn’t that right, mama?”

He looks to you for only a moment as you swallow. 

Johnny begins to seethe. “No. No, you can have everything else, but you won’t touch that.”

“Johnny,” you try, unnerved by the sudden look of warning in Harry’s eye. “Johnny, please…just give it to him. Whatever it is, I don’t care, just…just make him leave.”

“Smart girl,” Harry adds. “Come on, Johnny boy, your darling fiancé is scared. Don’t you wanna save her?”

Your lover simply grows stiff, eyes narrowing at the faux sincerity in the stranger’s voice.

“Johnny,” you mumble again. “Johnny, please, he’s right. I’m scared and I don’t care about what you have or what you don’t have. I just want you. And I want him to go away.”

Still, Johnny wrestles with his decision. With the choice he’s being forced to make, and as the seconds go by, Harry’s patience reaches its limit.

He grabs for you – again. Forcing the weapon under your jaw this time around as Johnny’s muscles tense and his fingers curl into his fist.

“God, look at him,” Harry whispers to you now, lips ghosting up the shell of your ear while forcing your eyes on your fiancé. “Fucking look at your pathetic excuse for a man.”

You attempt to remain indifferent – appear unafraid – but he sees right through you.

“D’you really think he cares about you, Doll?” he murmurs. “Do you really think he’ll choose your life over his own?”

“Let her go,” Johnny barks, yet it only forces the barrel even further into your skin.

Your chin is tilted up, a sharp inhale getting caught in your throat until Harry begins to chuckle.

“How about this,” he says. “I’ll let you choose, mama. I’ll let you decide if he gets to watch me kill you…or if he gets to watch me take you. All for myself.”

“Fucking piece of shit—” Johnny hisses, but Harry simply tsks.

“So, what do you say? What’ll it be? Either way, I’ll have him on his goddamn knees by the end of the night. And then we all win, yeah?”

“Enough,” Johnny yells, and a strangled silence splits the air. “Fine. Fine, I’ll tell you. Just let her go.”

Harry’s arm begins to lower but not very far. “Once it’s in my hand, she’s all yours.”

And you want to resent these men for treating you like you’re some sort of object to be traded, yet you’d happily be given back to your lover if it meant you could leave this nightmare behind.

No matter the cost.

Johnny rolls his shoulders back and flicks his unrelenting stare back to his desk. “There. The picture.”

You feel your eyebrows raise while Harry slowly begins to loosen his hold on you.

“Get it,” he instructs, and with an aggravated sigh, Johnny obliges.

He retrieves the golden frame from the table before pulling open the back and removing the picture inside.

The picture of you.

It almost breaks your heart, the look on his face. Like he’s absolutely gutted to be defiling this memory of you both, and you ache to comfort him.

Once the photo has been plucked from the glass, you catch the faintest sparkle in the soft light of the moon, and hear yourself gasp.

There, sitting snug inside the small frame, is the biggest fucking diamond you’ve ever seen.

It’s…stunning. The most gorgeous jewel you’ve ever been privileged to lay eyes on, surrounded by what you can only assume to be hundreds of tinier diamonds and rubies arranged in a delicate but intricate pattern. 

Altogether creating the most breathtaking necklace you’ve ever seen.

It has to be worth hundreds of dollars – thousands, in fact – and Harry reaches over to take it from the frame with the biggest Cheshire-like grin you’ve ever seen.

This is what he came for.

“You have it, all right? You have it, now go,” Johnny calls, already attempting to reach for you. “You got what you want.”

With an agreeable hum, Harry studies the necklace a moment longer before finally looking to you. “You’re right. We did, didn’t we?”

You both smile.

Instantly, you raise the gun that Harry had discreetly and secretly slipped into your hand only moments ago and aim it at Johnny’s chest.

Three.

Johnny’s expression shifts, eyes widening as he begins to piece together what’s really going on. Why Harry looks so proud and why you look so relieved.

Two.

His lips part. Ready to speak to you, whisper your name, ask for an explanation. And a part of you can’t help but wonder if you’ll feel any remorse for the deception you’ve put him through these past few months.

But as you stare at him now…you feel nothing but liberation.

One.

The third and final gunshot echoes through the air. Louder and far more permanent. Resolute.

Johnny stumbles back, unable to catch himself before he goes tumbling to the ground. A dark red stain expanding like watercolor across his chest, ruining the clean white shirt underneath.

You’d bought him that shirt.

And as the look of life slowly leaves his eye, you feel your muscles unwind, and your shoulders droop.

It’s over.

Harry’s got his arms around you before you can even release the deep breath you’ve been holding onto for so long. 

“Oh, good fucking girl,” he nearly groans, pressing his lips to yours for the first time in months as you sling your arms around his neck. “Fucking hell, I missed you, mama.”

If Harry had had it his way, Johnny would have been dead months ago. He never liked this plan – not because he thought you couldn’t handle it, but because the idea of going without you for so long nearly killed him.

But it was the only way to gain Johnny’s trust. And to find his true weakness. He never would have given you the location of the safe or the necklace if you’d simply held him at gunpoint from the get-go.

No, he needed a reason to cave, a reason to put his possessions on the line in order to save something else he truly cared about.

And that’s where you came in.

Sure, it was hard to be without Harry, but you knew it had to be done. Getting these items would set you up for years. You’d never have to work in sleazy bars again. You could simply be with him…forever.

And perhaps pretending to be a stranger to him and appear frightened of his intentions wasn’t quite necessary, but you happen to like the roleplaying aspect. 

The way he threatened your life as though he wouldn’t do everything in his power to protect it. The way he taunted you, teased you, scared you…when he knew deep down how much you fucking loved it.

You can still feel his fingers around your neck. The pressure of his hand against your throat, holding you still, keeping you close. You hadn’t felt it in months and a part of you wanted to keep the game going for just a bit longer if it meant you could have him.

You weren’t able to run into his arms and kiss him the way you can now and it’s…perfect. Absolutely perfect.

“Did he hurt you?” he whispers, leaving a trail of kisses along your jaw. “Did he fucking touch you—”

“No,” you’re quick to assure him. “No, never. He wanted to, but I never let him.”

“Good.” He takes hold of your hip and gives it a firm squeeze. “Good girl, knew you’d be on your best behavior, yeah?”

You grin. “Of course. Only ever thought about you.”

“Is that right, doll?”

“Mhm.” You tuck your lip between your teeth and nuzzle your nose to his. “How could it ever be him?”

His lashes flutter, and you can see the edges of his frayed sanity coming loose. He’s had to pretend for far too long, and you don’t imagine he can do it much longer.

“Yeah?” he murmurs, nearly clawing at your dress. “Then, maybe I’ll—”

“What…did you do?”

The sound of Milton’s confusion pulls you apart instantly. He’s standing in the doorway, eyes wide, expression horrified. Looking from his boss, to you, to Harry, and back.

He sees the necklace on the desk, sees the gun in your hand, sees the bag of gold and cash lying at Harry’s feet.

He understands, and your heart almost sinks. Milton was one of the good ones.

Quickly, Harry takes the weapon from you and points it in Milton’s direction.

Milton only leans back with a soft inhale while you turn to your lover and whisper, “No. No, not him.”

Harry’s pursed lips and furrowed brows never waver. “What?”

“Not him,” you repeat, as firmly as you can.

And he hesitates for only a moment before dropping the weapon and nodding his chin at you. “Grab the bag and go out the window.”

You nod your understanding before stealing one last glance at the bartender by the door.

He’s heartbroken and terrified…but his features grow softer as he finally mumbles, “…five minutes. I’ll give you five minutes.”

And you can’t help but smile.

You rush to grab what you came for and hurry to the window, with Harry right behind you. You don’t have a lot of time. Once Milton makes the call to the police, you’ll need to be far enough away that they can’t find you.

You know they’ll be looking. Know they won’t stop until they find you both – after all, they’ve been searching for you for years.

But you don’t mind a life that’s on the run, as long as it’s with him. 

And the pleased smile he offers you now only confirms this.

You quickly lift the hem of your dress and begin over the ledge, with Harry right beside you to help. He takes your hand for support, keeping you steady until you can safely drop to the ground outside before he’s following suit.

The moment his feet hit the ground, you both run. The Chicago air is cold – frigid. You don’t have enough clothes to truly cover you and your feet are sore from having to wear these outrageous shoes all night.

But you somehow feel…alive. Invigorated and so very free. You have everything you’ve ever wanted.

You have him.

You both slip along the shadows as you make your way through town, leaving the speakeasy and Johnny Winters behind. After a minute or two, you hear the sirens in the distance, and the stakes are raised. They grow louder and louder the closer they get, and it’s then that Harry recaptures your hand and tugs you into a dark alleyway for cover.

This is where you stay until the cars have zipped down the street and proceeded without you. They don’t even think to look for you here and you’re rather impressed with your lover’s quick thinking.

Harry, however, isn’t as quick to revel in the success. Continuingly peeking around the corner in order to watch for anything unusual. Ignoring your amused laughter and giddy grin of accomplishment.

He’s on edge. Alert. Ready to run again if need be, and while you rather admire his practiced precision, you hope to put it to better use. 

You drop the bag near the wall and make your way for him, palms quickly finding his cheeks in order to pull his attention to you.

He grunts. “What?”

But you don’t answer with words. You answer with a kiss. A kiss that makes your stomach flip and your mind grow fuzzy.

And this seems to be explanation enough as he groans with approval and wraps his arms around your middle to keep you against his chest. Nipping and licking at you as though his life depends on it.

Perhaps it does.

He shoves you back against the brick after only a few seconds, finding the leverage he needs in order to deepen the kiss and truly claim you. In a way he’d been desperate to the moment he saw you sitting in that office in such a beautiful dress.

“Trying to distract me, hm?” he murmurs, and you can’t help but smile. “Yeah? Or did you just need me that badly?”

He spins you around, pressing your cheek to the cold blocks of clay before dancing his fingers down your spine. Indulging in you.

It makes your insides twist.

You feel the hem of your dress gather in his fist as he finally gets a proper look at what he’s been missing for months. And the sound he makes goes straight to your cunt.

“You filthy fucking thing,” he whispers, rather delightedly while moving in to trail his mouth along your neck. “Look at you. Look at how perfect you are.”

His fingers find your pussy, stroking over your covered slit once or twice before plucking the covering from your hips and dragging it down your thighs. 

“Just dripping for me, yeah? All fucking night.” He drags his palm up the inside of your leg. “Power makes you weak, doesn’t it, mama?”

You nod desperately, unable to answer with words.

But he understands, smirking to himself rather deviously before his hands are tangling in your hair in order to yank your head back. Just to hear you choke on a whine. “I’ve waited months for this. Yeah? M’gonna take my time with you…gonna make it worth it.”

And you don’t doubt that you will.

You nod again as the sound of his leather belt coming undone echoes between your ears. You’re trembling with anticipation, body aching for the feel of his cock. It’s been far too long, and you’ve nearly withered away without him.

You imagine he feels about the same, already fisting himself in one hand and readjusting your dress in the other. You hear him mumble something under his breath – you’re not quite sure what. But you suppose it doesn’t matter. He can say whatever he likes as long as he gives you what you need. 

Normally, he’d take his time. He loves to make a show out of ruining you, but there’s no chance for that tonight. No patience. So, he kicks your feet apart, grabs your hip, and eases himself in all before you can take a breath.

And it’s perfect. Exactly the way you remember. The stretch, the scratch, the desperation. Nobody feels the way he does, and you both know it.

He’s still for a moment, merely pushing himself in and watching your pussy swallow him whole. As if so overcome by the sensation that he can’t do much else. As if losing control over his own body.

So, you push against his chest to remind him you’re here while your fingers reach back for his hair in order to tug it softly.

You feel him smile against your cheek. “All fucking night,” he whispers the moment he’s buried to the hilt. “Knew exactly what you were doing, didn’t you?”

You grin as well. You’re rather happy he noticed.

“Spitting in my fucking face,” he continues. “Challenging me. Acting like a fucking brat. S’all cause you were so fucking needy for me, wasn’t it, mama?”

“Maybe,” you can’t help but retort. “Maybe I knew you’d like it.”

He laughs now. A low, deep, sadistic sound from the back of his throat. Using his hold on your scalp to force your head into his shoulder. “Is that right, hm?”

You only nod.”

“Yeah? Then say it,” he hisses. “Tell me you missed me. Tell me you missed my cock. That nobody fucks you like I do—”

He accompanies this request with his first, sharp thrust. Pulling back only to drive himself in so hard, the air is nearly knocked from your lungs.

“Because they can’t, can they?” he coos, yet it’s angry. Fingers moving from your hair to your neck. Squeezing until you gasp. “Nobody knows how to treat this little pussy like I do. Do they?”

You fall mute. Going limp in his hold as the pleasure begins to build.

“You love it when I fuck you like this.” His nose presses to your cheek as he breathes, your delicate throat a plaything in his touch. “Love it when I kill for you. Love it when I make you mine—”

You gasp at the ecstasy, hardly able to hear him, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You love me,” he murmurs, and you just about disappear into his embrace.

“I do,” you gasp, almost too loudly. “I do, Harry, please—"

“Quiet,” he hisses, glancing now toward the street in order to make sure the police haven’t found their way to you. “You know better than that. You’ll take me and you’ll do it quietly. Understood?”

Your only response is to whimper pitifully while your nails scratch down the brick walls of the alley.

In turn, he grasps onto your jaw, forcing your head to the side until your eyes can meet. “I said, is that fucking understood?”

“I thought you said to be quiet,” you can’t help but retort, and he hums.

“Oh, is that how you wanna play it?” He releases your throat only to take hold of your hips once more and spin you around between thrusts. Quickly returning to his place between your thighs before lifting one of your legs and hiking it around his waist.

“What…” you begin, chest heaving as the tip of his cock drags down your clit. “What are you—” 

“Had to see you,” is his gritted response. “Had to see this pretty, bratty face as I ruined you.”

You imagine you’d smile if you weren’t so close to coming apart, but he understands. Pressing his forehead to yours before reaching up toward the top of your dress and ripping the fabric down to reveal your chest. 

You can tell he’s been wanting to do this all night. Know he’s been ogling your tits from behind the expensive fabric since the moment he walked in, and truth be told, that’s the real reason you wore it. 

Not because Johnny loves you in red.

But because Harry deserved to look at something pretty.

The cold air meets your skin with an unforgiving fervor, and you squirm against the brick as Harry’s eyes fall to the tattered fabric lying so pathetically on your chest.

Instantly, his head dips, mouth leaving open and sloppy kisses to the beautiful pair before him. Tongue stroking the hardened nipples rather respectfully, all things considered.

In turn, you run a hand through his dark curls as he does this to you. As you watch him take whatever he wants. Feeling the way his hair moves like butter between your fingers. The way he hums against you. The way his lashes flutter.

You’ve missed this.

Then, your grip tightens, and you yank his head up until his lips can meet yours. And you take. Take the taste of him, the taste of you, and the taste of victory.

His palm comes up to rest against the wall beside your head. Steadying himself as he works to find that perfect rhythm again. Over and over and over.

And all you can do is move your anxious kisses to his throat as he fucks into you. Whispering, “Nobody, baby. Nobody feels like you do. Nobody.”

Your fingers trail down his strong back, feeling each muscle that dips and flexes as he moves. The way he grunts when you scratch your nails down his spine. The way he consumes you and succumbs to you all at once.

Johnny was beautiful, but Harry is a beast. You’ve never seen a man like this before – never felt a man like this before. Every curve of his body is ethereal. Every detail, every touch.

Your touch continues to move lower and lower down his strong frame until you find something at the base of his spine.

And it makes you grin.

You slip it from his belt with ease, feeling the way it sits firmly in your hand as though it were made for it.

Harry doesn’t seem to notice. Or perhaps he just doesn’t care with the way he’s so deep into you. Emotionally, physically.

But he’s quickly pulled from his pleasured trance the moment he feels the familiar, cool touch of his gun sweeping across his jaw.

He stills. Straightening up ever-so-slightly, eyes finding yours.

But you’re too busy gazing at the barrel that dances across that beautiful face. 

After all, he got to have his fun this evening.

Now it’s your turn.

You bring it to a stop just under his chin, tilting his head up exactly the way he’d done to you earlier as he releases a deep breath.

“Mama…” he warns, but you only hum.

This isn’t the first time this deadly weapon has made this an unofficial threesome, but it is certainly the first time you’ve been the one to wield it.

You hate guns. You do. But you love Harry’s. The way he holds it. The way he handles it. The way he uses great care and great power.

Because there’s something about seeing him with it. Seeing the way he controls it, controls the room. The way he holds someone’s life in the palm of his hand…

Perhaps you should be concerned by how enamored you are by it. By him.

But not tonight. Tonight, you simply enjoy.

And from the look in his eye, he seems to be enjoying it, too.

After all, you know he loved watching you use it on Johnny. Know he almost had you right then and there, on Johnny’s desk, before the mission was even through.

He’s endlessly pleased with you, and you can’t help but use this to your advantage.

So, with the weapon still taut to his clenched jaw, you lean forward and ghost your lips over his. “What’s the matter, Daddy? Does power make you weak?”

The twitch of his cock is answer enough.

You go in for the kill. With your fingers dancing over the trigger button, you lean back and dip down before dragging your tongue up the length of the barrel.

His eyes nearly roll back, and the sound that leaves his chest is euphoric. You think you might just kill him.

Because you’re slow. Meticulous. Licking every inch of the weapon until you finally reach the tip still tucked just beneath his chin.

Then…you kiss him.

And he’s so overwhelmed that he growls into your mouth, no longer threatened by the gun at his throat. Instead grabbing onto the back of your neck in order to squeeze it tight and keep you close. Devour you the way he’s been so frantic to.

You don’t even realize that you’ve begun to lower the gun until you feel it snatched from your grasp.

And pressed tightly to your clit.

The cold surface of the weapon against the warmest part of your body has you arching your back with a whimper. He has the upper hand once more, and he’s certainly not about to waste it. Mouth curling up into a satisfied, smug grin at the way your expression has gone hazy.

You’ve never looked at another man the way you look at him and he knows it.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asks softly, adding just enough pressure to make you whine. “All fucking night? The moment you saw me? Saw my gun? Wanted me to fuck you with it?”

Your nails meet your chest, scratching down the frigid skin in a desperate attempt to find something to ground you.

His only response is to drag the tip of the weapon down just a bit further. Until he can watch it glisten in you.

“Fucking looking at you,” he muses beneath a strained exhale, enamored by the way you subconsciously begin to grind on it. “So desperate to feel it. To be fucked by it. And what if I do, hm? What if I fuck you with my gun right here in this alleyway?”

You only whisper his name and an airy, “Please…”

“I thought about it,” he continues quietly, nose brushing yours as he slips the soaked barrel back up your cunt. “Thought about ripping off this pathetic little dress and fucking you right in front of your precious fiancé.”

You wish he had.

“You’d have liked that, wouldn’t you, mama?” His fingers drum against the handle. “Yeah? I know you would. Would have loved to watch him watch me.”

And he’s not wrong. He hardly ever is when it comes to your darkest fantasies, and it’s just one of the many reasons why you love him.

“But I had to wait,” he tells you now, finally pulling the gun away from your dripping clit until you nearly crumple to the cold concrete below. “Because after all this time…I’m the only thing that gets to fill you tonight, yeah?”

You simply nod again as he brings the gun back to your mouth with a proud grin.

And you know exactly what he wants, swiping your tongue all along the barrel and tasting every drop, every indication of your need for him. Swallowing it all as he watches proudly.

The moment you’re finished, he takes the gun and returns it to his pocket, tucking it away safely. Because he’s right again, and you need to feel him far more than you’ve ever needed anything else.

So, you grasp onto his face and bring his lips to yours, allowing him to pick up right where he left off.

Because as much as you love the power…you love being weak for him more.

At least in moments like this.

He fills you and fucks you until you’re dizzy. Until you can taste the pleasure and the unraveling. 

You make a show of it. A way to apologize for all the time lost. Trailing the tips of your fingers along your own chest and down your sternum until you notice you have his attention.

He watches you take your tit into your palm before you’re tweaking the hardened nipple with a soft whine. Allowing your head to drop back into the wall while you do it again and again.

And he’s an angry sort of infatuated. Groaning almost pitifully before kissing you again and easily swatting your hand away in order to do it himself.

But that’s still not enough. So, you play your ace, and move your touch down to your clit in order to pinch it exactly the way he likes.

And it’s beautiful. The most exhilarating feeling, and this is what sends him over. The feel of your pussy clamping down on his cock, the sight of your fingers against your clit, the sound of your pathetic whimpers and pants as you cry out his name.

He fills you before he can stop himself, kissing you quickly as he releases into your aching, abused cunt. 

Claiming you in more ways than one until you have no choice but to follow.

It rips you apart in the same way he ripped the dress. Until you see stars, and your back arches, and your toes curl. And everything makes sense.

He works to make it last for as long as he can, and once it’s all over, there’s a soft, tender moment of silence as you work to catch your breath.

You forget about everything else. The sirens, the lies, the deceit. Even Johnny. You forget about it all.

Because you got more than a diamond necklace tonight.

You got Harry back.

After a second or two more, you lazily reach up to sweep some of his rogue curls from his forehead. Wanting to really see his eyes as he holds you tonight.

“Harry?” you whisper into the cold, dark alley.

He hums. “Yes, mama?”

“I love you.”

And you’ve never seen him so happy. “I love you more,” he breathes, kiss you again as if to cement this vow.

Eventually, the moment comes to pass, and you have to drop your leg back down to the floor and part from him. You find that your muscles are sore, and just a touch achey, but you don’t even mind. Because it’s somehow just as deliciously pleasurable.

Harry works to readjust your dress and keep you covered; despite the way he’s ruin the expensive fabric. He offers you his jacket – insists on it. Wrapping it around your shoulders before you can even argue.

You smile as you snuggle into the warm material, feeling calmed by the familiar smell of him.

“There,” he says as he looks at you before his head tilts. “Just missing one thing.”

Curious, you watch as he slips his hand back into his pant pocket in order to fish something out.

The necklace.

He hadn’t told you about it before the mission. Only about the safe, and now you think you’re beginning to realize why.

He places it around your neck and readjusts the clasp until it can sit comfortably over your heart. 

And you both look down as it sparkles from your chest, smiling together as though you truly can’t believe it’s real.

“You like it?” he whispers.

You grin so wide, your cheeks hurt. “I love it.”

He kisses you again, and it’s perfect.

Everything. All of it.

Him.

Suddenly, a loud toll echoes through the small town. The sharp chime coming from the clocktower in the town square.

Once, twice, three times. 

Midnight.

“It’s Christmas,” you realize aloud as you and Harry both glance toward the clock. 

His expression softens, and it makes your heart soar. “I guess it is.”

And then…you feel it. The first drop of something cold on your cheek. And then another. And another. And another. Gathering in your hair, getting stuck on his lashes.

Snow.

With a gasp, you look up into the dark sky as it dances down onto the quiet Chicago streets.

A rather perfect ending to a perfectly imperfect day.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

With a soft giggle, you curl yourself under his arm and press your lips to his cheek. “Merry Christmas, Harry.”

He laughs, and you’ve never been so happy.

“Merry Christmas, Mama.”

I'M SORRY THIS ONE GOT A BIT DARKER, IT WAS FUN BUT MOSTLY JUST FOR THE ERA ASPECT!! Thank you for reading if you did and letting me write something a little weirder 😭💞

~ Main Masterlist

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs

[steddieas-shegoes]

Modern AU where Eddie is a tech repair person at an apple store in Chicago while he tries to make it big with his band and Steve is a spoiled rich kid who is trying to cover up that he's been using his macbook to film for his OnlyFans or something similar and he needs that shit wiped.

Eddie is as professional as he can be, but can't help but be amused at Steve being worried that he's gonna see everything.

S: seriously, just wipe everything. nothing has to be saved. don't even look through each file. just start over. E: okay sure. but you know you could just buy a new laptop. S: my dad checks my credit card statements. E: okay, so tell him you bought it for a friend or something. S: just. can you wipe it? E: yeah i can.

Eddie doesn't let him know that he already has seen everything because of course he subscribes to S.H. and often leaves him bigger tips than he can afford. He doesn't even know why Steve does it since he's apparently rich, or his dad is.

It only takes a few hours to wipe it, and Eddie's grateful he managed to help Steve instead of his coworker who is a certified Creep ™️ who absolutely would have made sure to watch as many of the videos as he could first.

He calls Steve and leaves a message for him that it's done, but doesn't hear back and Steve doesn't come by. He does the same thing again the next day, and the day after that, starting to grow concerned.

He goes so far as to check Steve's OF page, just to see if there's an update, but sees it's been shut down, like it never existed.

He finally caves, does the most unprofessional thing he's ever done, and texts Steve's number from his own phone.

This is Eddie from the apple store. Your laptop's ready. Just want you to know after 30 days we usually get rid of unclaimed items.

There's no response.

But two days later, Steve comes into the store wearing sunglasses and a hat, clearly trying to hide.

When he takes off the sunglasses to sign everything, Eddie sees a healing black eye and swollen nose.

He isn't stupid.

And he suddenly feels extremely protective over him.

E: did your dad find out? S: find out what? E: about your online job? S: how do you know? E: I wasn't gonna say anything, and I swear everything got wiped without anyone including myself seeing, but I do subscribe to you and I recognized you when you came in. S, already having a panic attack: shit no. this is bad. okay you can't say anything about this to anyone. please. E: I wouldn't, I won't. but your dad found out didn't he? he did this to you? S: *nods* E: you safe now? S: *shrugs* E: need a place to stay? S: i've been saving. that's why i did this in the first place. so i can pay rent somewhere. E: I have a second bedroom at my place that just opened up. up to you.

And of course Steve takes it because he's desperate, and doesn't have real world experience with a lot of strangers, but has a good feeling about this.

Eddie finds that Steve is a very typical rich kid; ignorant to a lot of the world's struggles, but not an asshole despite his bitchy attitude sometimes coming out, thinks money can fix everything until Eddie shows him that apologies and a cuddle on the couch can be better.

Steve is so touch starved, he doesn't even realize the way he always folds into Eddie's side when they're just relaxing and watching a movie, or how he always lets his hand brush against his side or hand when Eddie gets home from work. Eddie helps him look for a job, and they find that he loves working at a daycare even though the money isn't that great.

They fall in love so easily, neither of them actually realize it happens until Steve comes home after a very long day before the Christmas holidays, covered in paint stains from crafts with the kids, and Eddie just welcomes him home with a kiss.

[miley1442111]

stalker- s.reid

a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

summary: spencer saves you.

pairing: spencer reid x reader

warnings: general criminal minds topics, gore and brief descriptions of harm, mutual pining, heavy topics, stalking, reader if from Texas

Spencer sat at his desk, a less than pleasant expression on his face. His glasses had slid down his nose, his usually perfectly gelled hair was messy, and a frown played at his lips. 

“If you stare any longer you’re going to end up with your face stuck like that,” Jj joked as she placed herself in his eyeline. Spencer’s frown deepened and Jj chuckled. “Come on, we have a case.”

Spencer got up, falling into stride with you as you left your desk, hanging up the phone.

“Who were you talking to?” He asked, trying to make small talk. You were new to the team, an old contractor Strauss had hand-picked, you were smart (smarter than him), beautiful, and you were so polite and dutiful that Spencer couldn’t tell if you were actually his friend. You just had an air of coolness that seemed so unreachable for Spencer. You and Derek had worked together in Chicago, you two made sense as friends, Penelope, Emily, Jj, and you all got along well, that made sense. David and you had a shared love of cooking, something SPencer couldn’t even begin to understand. You even made Aaron laugh on the worst of days with some witty comment or sarcastic joke. 

Had Derek just asked you to befriend Spencer for the team's sake? Why would you be interested in him? It made no sense.

You smiled. “My friend from home.”

“Where are you from?” He asked as you two sat in the conference room, Aaron shot you two a look that Spencer clearly didn’t see so you didn’t answer. 

“Tell you later,” you whispered as the briefing began. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Walking into the sweltering heat of Texas from the lovely air-conditioned plane was quite the shock to the body. 

“Fuck it’s hot,” you sighed, pulling off your hoodie to reveal a tight black top beneath. Yes, it was work-appropriate and completely within regulations, but Spencer’s eyes all but popped out of his head like he was in one of those cartoons. 

“You’re drooling,” Derek joked from beside him, pretending to wipe his chin. Spencer pushed his hands away with a shy smile, trying to recover from his embarrassing moment. 

“Ok, Spencer and Derek you two go to the latest crime scene, Y/n, Jj and I will go to the precinct, David and Emily you two will go talk to the deceased family,” Aaron gave out jobs. “Oh and Y/n, I want you with someone at all times, this unSub is going after women with your exact description and our team is a definite hit for him. He’s made contact with the police asking specifically for you and me,” Aaron explained. 

You all dispersed into your separate cars and began working the case. The precinct was full of slimy cops who all promised to ‘protect you’, just not from themselves.

“We want you to wear this,” Jj handed you a bulletproof vest and you rolled your eyes. 

“Seriously? I’m not a porcelain doll, I can handle myself-” You tried to reason with them but the look on Aaron’s face made you stop. He, himself, was wearing one too. “Fine.”

“Good,” Jj smiled. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spencer was worrying himself sick at the crime scene, rambling about all the ways the unSub could get to you and how you shouldn’t even be in the state.

“Spencer!” Derek exclaimed. “Go to your girlfriend, send Jj back after you. You’re no help when you’re like this.”

Spencer didn’t take kindly to the small jest, but he didn’t need to be told twice. He grabbed the keys and drove down to the precinct, finding Jj immediately and making up a poorly executed lie about feeling sick. She saw right through him.

“Hope you feel better Spence,” she smirked. “Y/n is with Hotch interviewing a suspect here,” she pointed it out on a map. “See you later.”

After grabbing the keys to Emily and David’s vehicle (they’d just come back from the crime scene) and driving there, anxiety ran through him as he found the door to the farmhouse open. He turned the corner, finding three figures. One was on the floor, shouting in agony, the other was standing, hands above their head. The third was holding a gun.

He turned back, dialling Derek’s number. 

“We need back-up, we’re at 34 Terrace Avenue! Agent down!” He spoke quietly into his phone. 

“We’re on the way kid, don’t go in without back-up,” Derek told him. Spencer didn’t respond. “Spencer?”

“She’s dying,” he reasoned and hung up, walking in. “FBI! Put your weapons down!” 

The unSub, Mitchell O’Hara had been obsessed with you since high school, you’d rejected him in senior year when he’d asked you to the prom since you already had plans with friends. All over the farmhouse, there were photos of you from every stage of your life. Childhood to teenage years, to college years, to your various positions before joining the BAU just a few months ago, including your CIA and covert Ops positions. 

Spencer could see you on the ground, multiple knife wounds in your exposed torso, he’d made you take off your vest, Spencer thought. You groaned in pain on the floor. “Spencer?” You asked hazily. Spencer kept his gun trained on Mitchell. 

“Yeah?” He was stalling, waiting for Aaron to get his own gun or for back-up to arrive. 

“Good,” you were slipping out of consciousness. “I’ve always liked you,” you smiled hazily. Spencer would be elated at those words if the circumstances were different. 

“This is your dream guy Y/n?!” Mitchell shouted. “Him?!” 

“He’s nice,” you managed. “He’s funny.”

“I’m nice! I’m funny!” Mitchell screamed. 

“You’re not Spencer,” you mumbled as everything went dark. 

SWAT suddenly filled the room and Spencer ran to you, trying to stop the bleeding. Thank god Derek had ordered for an ambulance to follow them to the scene.

As Aaron cuffed Mitchell, Spencer went with you in the ambulance. He watched as they attempted to treat your wounds, needing to cut open your shirt. Spencer was shocked to find what looked like 50 different scars. Some from bullets, others knives, others things he couldn’t name. He knew you’d been in the CIA and on a Cover Ops team, he never thought you would’ve been hurt this many times and still have the strength to go on. The ambulance pulled up to the hospital and you were brought straight into emergency surgery. 

He waited for hours there just pacing, nervously biting at his nails, or attempting to sit there as no one told him a thing. He lied, saying he was your boyfriend. Technically it wasn’t a lie, you liked him, he liked you. He just hadn’t asked. 

“Dr. Reid?” A nurse called out. He stood immediately. “She’s stable and should be waking up soon, you can see her.”

Spencer nodded a ‘thanks’ her way and entered your hospital room. 

You were alive. You were here. You were awake. 

You smiled at him. “Hey.”

Your voice was hoarse, tired from the shouting you’d done. 

“Hi.”

“Thanks for saving me Spencer,” you smiled. “And about what I said… if you don’t feel the same I’d totally get it. I just thought I was… y’know dying so…”

Spencer shook his head and smiled. “I like you a lot too.”

You grinned. “Good.”

He leaned down, a sudden surge of confidence ran through him and he kissed you softly.

“I’m from Texas by the way,” you smiled against his lips. 

“I actually guessed that, yeah,” he joked, making you laugh. God, he loved your laugh. 

He loved you. He just wouldn’t tell you that yet.

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

criminal minds masterlist :)

[aestheticaltcow]

I have asked

Ele fica todo "porra podia ter matado ela" e ela "tá tudo bem bear ☺️ você não sabia"

Sunshine Reader who works at The Beef (started working there while Carmy was working in Germany) he does not know much about her yet

Then he is making a new recipe and calls her to prove and she goes all happy, when he will put the spoon in her mouth everybody gives kitchen screams saying that he could not because he had set a thing she has allergy

He gets all "I could have killed her" and she's like is okay Bear ☺️, you did not know "

Sorry for the bad English

Hey, don't apologize for the 'bad English'. English is a very hard language. It's my only language, and it confuses me every day.

Anyway, enjoy :)

Allergic to Sunshine

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader

The Bear Masterlist

“Yo, you busy?” Carmy asked as you worked at your prep station. You shook your head, “Just on veggie prep for the lunch rush.”

Carmy nodded as he stood there with his hands on his hips. He watched you chop briefly before asking, “Can you taste something for me?” 

“Sure!” you smiled, placing your knife at the top right corner of your station before following Carmy to his. You passed Marcus and Tina on the way. After cheerfully greeting the two of them and engaging in some casual small talk, Carmy put the final touches on the dish he’d wanted you to taste. 

You liked Carmy; he was pretty serious but had a plethora of culinary knowledge. When he took over The Beef the summer after Mikey died, you weren’t sure what would happen to your job. The late and great Mikey Berzatto hired you as a catch-all employee of sorts. You were a broke college student who managed to convince him to give you a chance. 

After Mikey died, you were worried Richie would downsize, but he assured you that you were family- and you don’t fire family. When the staff found out Carmy was moving back to Chicago to take over the restaurant, Richie reassured you again that ‘Mr. New York’ wouldn’t be allowed to fire you because while The Beef may have been in Carmy’s name- it was Richie’s restaurant.

Carmy changed a lot about The Beef claiming it would be more efficient and it would be the change needed to turn it from just a sandwich shop to the restaurant he wanted to create to honor Mikey. He moved you from your catch-all role to learning how to be a line cook. He’d managed to teach you some basic knife skills and cooking quickly became a way for the two of you to communicate- despite your multiple food allergies.

When you made your way to Carmy, he passed you a plate of fancy-looking dishes with a green and yellow sauce swirl. “What is this?” you questioned as you took a spoon to the dish. “Tryin’ out some sauces for a seafood risotto Syd and I have been workin’ on,” Carmy explained as he leaned against his station with his arms crossed over his chest. You nodded, and he started explaining the sauces, “The yellow is a pineapple hot sauce, and the green is pea, garlic, and chili oil-”

“Yo Cousin! Are you tryin’ to kill her? She’s allergic to everything on that plate.” Richie yelled from the other side of the kitchen. Carmy looked up at the ceiling before sighing and turning his attention to you with a dumbfounded expression plastered across his face. “You were just gonna eat that? Even though you’re allergic?” 

You shrugged, “You didn’t know I was allergic to pineapple, peas… or most shellfish.” 

You watched Carmy squeeze the bridge of his nose with one hand as he took the plate away from you with the other. “Any other allergies I should know about?” he chuckled slightly.

“Pumpkin. You didn’t know- it’s okay, Carm.” you smiled as you playfully punched his arm. Carmy shook his head as he walked away from the station, laughing about how ridiculous this situation was. You couldn’t help but blush as you walked back to your station. He was something else, but so were you.

[megalony]

All These Kids

This is my newest Eddie Diaz imagine, based on two requests I've merged together, it's rather long but very fluffy. I hope you will all like it, let me know what you think.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii  @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @gillybear17 @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Summary: Eddie and (Y/n) have a soccer team of kids together, who they introduce to the 118 team.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Dad- hang on a second." Tilting her head down to the left, (Y/n) looked down at her daughter with raised brows and a smile. She pressed her hips up into the counter and waited patiently for Evie to tell her what she wanted.

But the three-year-old just held her hands up towards the phone with grabbing fingers and a sweet, toothy grin. She knew who was on the phone.

"I think I'm gonna have to pass you over. Go talk to grandad then." She leaned over and held her phone out towards Evie who clapped before she took the phone. The confusion was clear on Evie's face. She was so used to talking to her grandparents over Facetime, she wasn't used to simple phone calls anymore.

But she quickly worked it out and pressed the phone to her ear with a wide grin as she turned around. "Grandad!" Evie toddled out of the kitchen, taking (Y/n)'s phone along with her to where Chris, Finn and Nate were playing a game in the living room.

(Y/n) smiled to herself and put the kettle on to make a drink. At least she had talked to her dad for a while this time rather than a few seconds before the kids came and took the phone from her. Every time he was on the phone, all four kids seemed to sense it and take the phone to talk to him.

They were even worse if Eddie was on shift, especially an evening shift. If he missed bedtime, (Y/n) usually had to Facetime him so he could say goodnight to the kids.

Thankfully, (Y/n)'s job meant she could work from home and only had to visit the office once or twice a fortnight. She could work while the kids were at school and always be there to pick them up or stay home with them if they were sick and couldn't go to school.

So it didn't matter if Eddie wanted to do a mixture of day and night shifts or if he did a long stretch of double shifts. (Y/n) was usually able to look after the kids and Eddie did a lot of double shifts so he got a lot of bulk time off at home with his family.

Leaning forwards, (Y/n) folded her arms on the counter and arched her lower back out while she waited for the kettle. But just as it clicked, a grin wormed its way back onto her lips when she felt a familiar set of arms curve around her waist.

She straightened up and moved forwards until her hips and abdomen were pressed into the counter and she felt Eddie press up behind her. His chest moulded around hers like a blanket and his hands gave her hips a squeeze while he tilted his head down. His lips attached to her neck and made a shiver course down (Y/n)'s spine and tingle down to her arms.

"Hi babe," She reached her hand down to give Eddie's wrist a squeeze while she leaned her head against his.

"You got something you need to tell me?" Eddie's words were soft and low as they vibrated through (Y/n)'s neck.

Those words made her heart race and she nuzzled her nose into his hair, trying to rack her brain to think what he meant by that. His words weren't daring or annoyed, they were quite the opposite which made (Y/n) even more dazed. She couldn't think what he was referring to.

She didn't have anything to tell him, did she? Nothing significant had happened. She hadn't told Chris, Finn or the twins anything or any secret surprise for Eddie that they could have let loose.

"I… I don't think so. Why, should I?"

When Eddie bit down on her neck, (Y/n) pressed her lips together so she didn't make a sound. But she knew he felt the deep breath she took, especially when he dragged his tongue across the mark he'd just created.

She stayed still while Eddie curved his left arm around her waist, tugging her back as if the tiny membrane of space between them was far too much. His chest tensed up against her back and his face stayed tucked into her neck with his nose brushing across the side of her jaw like a feather.

(Y/n) almost closed her eyes until she felt Eddie's right arm move over her hip and he placed something down on the counter in front of her.

"Are we expecting a new arrival?"

Eddie dragged his lips up (Y/n)'s neck, across her jaw and around until he was hovering over her lips. He pecked her lips once, then twice, then again until (Y/n) almost forgot what he'd even asked her.

She kissed him again, cupping the side of his face with her right hand before Eddie finally pulled back and looked down at the counter.

He'd been a little more than surprised when he looked in the bathroom cabinet and found a pregnancy test which he knew hadn't been there last week. He could still remember each of the other three times she'd told him she was pregnant.

Eddie had been about to head back to the army for another tour when (Y/n) gave him a baby grow for his birthday and said they were expecting Chris. And when Chris was four, he gave Eddie a small box for father's day with a pair of baby booties in and a positive test. He remembered the way he'd almost collapsed at their first scan when they found out they were having two babies, not just one.

Eddie had been more than in love with the way (Y/n) looked and changed when she was pregnant.

The last time (Y/n) was pregnant Eddie had figured it out before she told him. He started to notice the signs, she had been really sick during the first few months when they were expecting Evie. And it had been uplifting to finally have a girl that time after three boys.

He leaned back a little so (Y/n) could turn around his arms so she was facing him. When her hands moved to cup his face and smooth across his jaw, Eddie glided his hands down from her hips to grab the back of her thighs. He lifted her up and slid her back onto the counter, moving so he was stood between her legs that instantly wrapped around his waist and squeezed him tight.

"Mi amor?"

"I think so, I haven't had chance to take the test yet." (Y/n) looped her arms around the back of his neck and leaned her forehead against his.

(Y/n) didn't like to tell Eddie if she thought she was pregnant, just in case it turned out she wasn't. She thought that if she was, she would surprise him again like she did with Chris and then the twins. But she hadn't found the time to take the test yet, it had been sitting in the back of the bathroom cupboard while (Y/n) tried to get some time and courage to do it.

"You know you've kind of ruined the surprise if I am." She knew she should have done it as soon as she bought the test. (Y/n) didn't like just coming out with it or having Eddie work it out like he did with Evie, she wanted to tell him. She wanted to try and make it a surprise and something special.

"We don't technically know yet, so go take the test and surprise me."

He leaned his temple against hers as his hands wormed beneath her shirt and splayed out across her back.

They hadn't exactly talked about having more kids. They always said they wanted kids together. Finding out about Chris was the reason they got married so quickly and Eddie didn't do anymore tours in the army after Chris was born. He couldn't bear to be separated from his family anymore.

Having twins had been a big surprise but they had coped amazingly well with double trouble and looking after Chris. And Evie had been a very welcomed gift and (Y/n) knew Eddie had been ecstatic about finally having a little girl to spoil.

"Eager?" (Y/n) whispered against his lips as she tightened her legs around his hips and pulled him closer until his groin bumped into hers.

"Yeah. I miss you being pregnant, and how small Evie was when she was born." Eddie wasn't ashamed to admit it. He was always attached to (Y/n) at the hip when she was pregnant. And he missed having a baby in his arms. Evie had been two months early and she had been so tiny that she didn't even fit the length of Eddie's arm.

He loved having his tiny little girl wrapped up in his arms or snuggled down on his chest. He used to call her his little doll because of how little she cried and how tiny and porcelean she looked.

When his lips curved up into a smile, (Y/n) closed the gap between them and smothered his lips with hers.

(Y/n)'s fingers reached up to tangle in the short hairs at the back of his neck and when she gave a sharp tug, she swallowed up the groan Eddie let out. She could feel herself smiling against his lips and she used her legs to pull him closer. Sliding herself onto the edge of the counter so she was almost sitting on Eddie's hips.

"What if it's negative?" Her lips barely parted from his to ask what was playing on the back of her mind.

(Y/n) had been thinking and thinking about this and built herself up with the thought that she probably was pregnant. If the test was negative (Y/n) knew her mood was going to deflate and Eddie's would too which was why she didn't want to tell him unless she was certain.

"Then I can help with that," His hands slid down from under her shirt and in one quick swoop, he held her by the thighs again and pulled her onto his torso. "We can always try for a baby this time, you know."

The twins had been somewhat planned and Evie was a complete surprise, but there was nothing stopping them from planning to have a baby this time if the test was negative.

"Really?"

"Hm. I don't think we'll have to try too hard, either."

Pulling back, (Y/n) trailed her lips down to Eddie's jaw when he turned around. But she quickly pulled away and looked over her shoulder when Eddie stopped walking. Evie was stood in front of him in the doorway to the kitchen, holding the phone up to them.

(Y/n) bit down on her lip and tilted her head forward, burrowing her face back into the crook of Eddie's neck when she realised Chris had showed her how to switch the call to Facetime. Her dad was on the phone and he could see her clinging to Eddie like a baby monkey.

"Am I unterrupting?" Her dad narrowed his eyes and tilted his head back when Evie turned the phone to face her parents.

She, Chris and the twins had all been showing their grandad the new video game Chris was playing. Which Chris knew Eddie had secretly played at night and unlocked at least seven new levels that Chris was now re-doing.

"Nope, what can we do for you?" Eddie leaned forward and took (Y/n)'s phone from their daughter. "Thank you baby," He whispered and pecked Evie's temple while he juggled to keep (Y/n) on his hips with one arm. He didn't want her to get down, he was perfectly happy carrying her around for a while. Eddie wanted her as close as possible and their families were accustomed to the amount of PDA the couple showed, this was nothing new.

"I just wanted to double check if the kids are staying over this weekend?"

"You can have them at the weekend if you want them." (Y/n) nudged her forehead against Eddie's neck and leaned her cheek against his collar bone so she could look at her dad on the phone. Her eyes drifted back up to look at Eddie though, giving him a warning look when he hitched his hand up from her thigh to hold her bum instead.

Her parents had taken to having all the kids almost every weekend while Eddie was at work. It gave (Y/n) and Eddie some time alone when he was back from work since his weekends off were usually spent down at the beach or the amusements with the kids.

And usually one weekend a month, (Y/n) and Eddie would take the kids down to see Eddie's parents and sisters back in Texas if they could.

"Perfect. Alright, I'll let you all go and see you at the weekend."

(Y/n) tightened her arms around Eddie's neck and held her breath when he flopped down on the armchair and she thudded down onto his lap. She could see Chris trying to show Nate how to play the new video game, but Nate was usually more content to watch rather than play. Finn was already settled and knew what he was doing in the game.

And Evie usually liked to try and play the games, especially when Eddie was playing as she liked to copy him.

"Where'd you think you're going?" Eddie murmured, grazing his teeth along the side of (Y/n)'s neck when her hands moved to his shoulders and she tried to get up.

"I thought you wanted me to find out." She waved her hand towards the kitchen where he'd left the test and a smile graced her lips when he nodded. She could see him fighting off a smile but he couldn't help it.

Eddie let go of her without a fuss and listened to the sound of her walking back into the kitchen. But he tilted his head back, supressing a groan when Evie grabbed his knees and started to clamber up onto his lap too.

She scrambled over his legs, accidentally kicked him and wriggled until she could flop onto the middle of his chest and sprawl out across him. She grinned to herself and draped her arms over Eddie's chest and snuggled into his neck until he shivered.

"Hi baby girl," He murmured softly, tilting his head down to kiss the top of her head while he smoothed his hand up and down her back.

He let his eyes drift over to his boys. Chris and Nate were sat next to each other on the sofa and Finn was on the floor leaning up against Chris's legs as they played their new video game. Eddie liked that game. He was rather good at all the combat missions and he could never help himself when Chris left the games switched on and Eddie couldn't sleep.

"Finn, where are your glasses?" Eddie propped his head up on his left hand while his right hand continued to smooth up and down Evie's back. It was hard to keep his eyes open and focused on his boys when he was slouched down in the chair and this was how he always laid to get Evie to take a nap and go to sleep.

But Eddie managed to keep his gaze focused on Finn, watching the seven year old glance up at him with a sheepish look and tightly pursed lips.

"Bedroom." He whispered back but he began to pout when Eddie clicked his fingers and pointed to the hall.

"Go put them on please."

"But-"

"If you don't wear them, you don't play the game. Go put them on."

Finn passed the control up to Nate who shuffled closer to Chris, he wasn't good at video games and was more content to watch than to play.

At their last eye test, Nate had perfect vision whereas Finn was starting to struggle like Chris, but he didn't like glasses. Something about the feel of them upset him.

(Y/n) had been back to the opticians twice to get new pairs when Finn ripped them off and broke the arm and then he'd tossed them and popped the lens out. They had to keep persevering with him because his eyesight wasn't going to get any better without his glasses. They were trying to get him to wear them when he was concentrating such as playing games or when he was reading.

He didn't have to wear them early in the morning or late into the night or if he was building with his Lego. Eddie hoped they'd get him wearing them all the time soon, and with Chris wearing glasses, it was prompting and showing Finn he needed his too.

"Are you both having a nap?" (Y/n) commented when Eddie propped his feet up on the coffee table and tilted his head back. She watched him smile while he closed his eyes, and Evie already had her eyes closed and her body snuggled under Eddie's arm like it was a blanket.

"We're tired." He didn't bother to open his eyes, but he moved his right arm out instinctively and waited for (Y/n) to sit back down on his lap. She wriggled to get comfy and make sure she wasn't leaning on Evie before she slumped her head into the crook of Eddie's neck and pecked his cheek. "So?"

He cracked one eye open and tilted his head to look down at her, but (Y/n) kept her face buried against Eddie's neck and continued to pepper kisses up and down his skin.

"You can officially dig my maternity clothes out again."

***

"Where's dad?"

(Y/n) turned to the left and looked over at Chris with a smile. She loved the way his eyes danced around the station in wonder. He had been wanting to come down for a while now and see where Eddie worked, but they had never found the right time.

She knew Eddie was trying to make friends here and get along with the team before he introduced them to his family. And the kids were a handful, (Y/n) was always too nervous to bring any of them down here in case they ran round and caused a scene or got in the way.

Eddie's job was demanding and hectic, the last thing they needed was kids running ramped and causing chaos. And (Y/n) would never want to disrupt Eddie at work or get him in trouble for bringing the kids down. She didn't know the rules here, if family were allowed to come by unannounced or not.

"He should be here somewhere. I hope."

When Evie wriggled in her arms, (Y/n) set the toddler down to her feet but kept hold of her hand so she stayed close.

She had Chris next to her on her left, Evie now between her legs and the twins near Chris taking in their new surroundings.

"Hi, can I help you?"

A shiver bolted down (Y/n)'s spine and she tried to smile politely when her eyes landed on an older man. He had a kind smile and his eyes were soft and warm as he looked across the kids before he looked over at (Y/n). He stood in front of them, a smile still gracing his face and both hands on his hips. He had an authoritive aura about him and when (Y/n) saw Nash written on his shirt, she knew he was the captain Eddie was always talking about.

"I was wondering if-" (Y/n) broke off when Evie suddenly let go of her hand and tore off into a sprint.

Her little arms stretched out in front of her and she squealed, kicking up dust behind her from how fast she bolted while (Y/n) was distracted. "It's daddy!"

(Y/n) sucked in a deep breath and bit down on her lip when she looked at who Evie had set her sights on. That wasn't Eddie. The hair was too light and short on top. The shoulders were too square and set high. The circular tattoo on his forearm was on the wrong arm for it to be her husband.

"No Evie that's not- I'm so sorry." She looked back over at the Captain, apologies clear in her eyes and written across her face as she turned to her boys. "Stay there."

She hitched her bag higher up her shoulder and took off in a sprint after her daughter who squealed again and caught the attention of whoever it was she had her sights set on. Her steps faltered and her smile deflated instantly when the man turned around and Evie realised it wasn't Eddie.

"Hey cutie, where'd you come from?" Evan grinned from ear to ear and crouched down in front of the toddler who looked like she wanted to reach out for him but suddenly didn't dare.

"It's not daddy," Evie whispered and looked over her shoulder up at her mum but when she looked back at Evan, she managed a cheeky smile that made his heart jump.

"No, it's not sweetie."

"I'm Buck… does your daddy work here?" When Evie nodded, Evan kindly held his arms out to her. "We've got some brownies upstairs, do you want one?" He looked up at (Y/n) and when she nodded, Evan picked Evie up and sat her down on his hip.

"I'll be one minute, you stay with Buck, okay?" (Y/n) kissed Evie's cheek and let Buck take her upstairs. He was the one Eddie kept talking about, the person he was partnered up with a lot who he really got along with. She knew he would be safe and fine to look after Evie for a little while.

Once he began his ascent up the stairs, (Y/n) turned and headed back near the fire truck to see what the boys were doing.

A fond smile took over her face when she saw Bobby with Chris. He was stood beneath the fire pole, Chris hoisted up in his arms to help him slide down the pole as if he were one of the team.

She got out her phone and took a quick photo before she took another step closer and looked around.

"Where are the twins?" Her question was directed more at Chris than at Bobby and she glanced around, feeling her heart pick up pace when she couldn't see the boys anywhere.

"I believe they wandered upstairs, they wanted to see the pole properly." Bobby set Chris down to his feet and smiled across at (Y/n) as he pointed upwards. He had given the boys the okay to head upstairs and come down the pole from the top as long as they were careful and he said he would wait down here for them. But he figured they got sidetracked as they hadn't come down yet.

"I'm really sorry-"

(Y/n) could feel her panic bubbling up inside of her as she moved her hand from her hip to rub across her forehead. The boys were as good as gold until they were about to make first impressions. Then they would run for their lives and go off wandering even when (Y/n) told them to stay put. But if Bobby had told them it was okay, (Y/n) couldn't really blame them.

"Don't be, families are welcome here, you know. They're fine to wander around and take a look. Who are you here to see, by the way?"

"Dad works here." Chris tilted his head back and grinned up at Bobby before he reached across and took (Y/n)'s hand.

"Oh, who's your dad?"

"Eddie." (Y/n)'s soft voice matched the melting look in her eyes and she couldn't help how she smirked when Bobby rose his brows and let out a quiet 'huh'. Clearly they didn't have Eddie pegged as a family man.

When Bobby uttered a soft "He's upstairs," (Y/n) nodded and let Chris guide her over towards the stairs.

"Oh, you found one too, huh?" Glancing around the kitchen, Hen smiled over at Evan when he climbed up the stairs with a little girl in his arms. She had just found two boys looking at the fire pole. Nobody told them they would be expecting guests today. They weren't told of friends or family coming down, not that it was an issue. But Hen was surprised. That made three kids so far that they had come across like an Easter egg hunt.

A tender smile flooded Evan's face when he saw the two boys who sat down at the table with Hen. Evan nodded proudly and bounced the little girl on his hip, aiming for the fridge until she squealed and stopped him dead in his tracks.

Eddie ducked his head down to miss a low-hanging beam but he hurried past the pool table when he suddenly heard Evie's voice.

What was she doing here?

"Hey boys," When he reached the dining table, Eddie leaned over and ruffled the twins hair and kissed the top of their heads before he headed over to Evan. "Hey baby. I see you found my kids." His grin made his eyes crease and he held his arms out when Evie wriggled against Evan to get over to him.

"Daddy!"

Eddie lifted her up and kissed her cheek before he settled her down on his chest and nuzzled his nose against hers to make her squirm.

"They're your kids?" Hen looked between the boys and the girl in Eddie's arms. He never mentioned having a family. He never even said if he was married or not. All they seemed to wangle out of Eddie was that he clearly went home to someone when he left shift. He was always happy to be here but also eager to leave.

He didn't come out for drinks that often after a shift either and he checked his phone a lot, but then again so did Evan and he didn't have a family waiting at home for him.

"You have three kids, and you never said anything?" Evan reached his hand out and leaned against the kitchen counter, crossing one leg over the other.

Why didn't he tell them? Why wouldn't he say he had kids or bring them down to the station sooner? He had seen Hen bring Denny and Bobby brought May and Harry down all the time. They all brought their kids and partners down to see the team and get to know the station and what they did here.

"Wow, you have three kids?" Ravi wandered over from the sofa where he had been watching tv. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and looked between the kids as he leaned back against the balcony rail with a smile. But as all eyes looked at Eddie, they watched a dangerous smile overtake his face and he shook his head.

His eyes locked on the stairs and Eddie watched Bobby walk up with the rest of his family and his dangerous smile broadened.

"Try five." Eddie scratched his jaw and pointed across at (Y/n) and Chris before he reached his arm out and let Chris barrel into his side and wrap around him like a vine.

When Chris moved to sit down opposite Hen and the twins, Eddie curled his arm around (Y/n) instead and reeled her into his side while Evie stayed curled up in his other arm. He smoothed his thumb up and down her hip and leaned his forehead against hers as (Y/n) pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek.

"Where's number five?" Evan did a quick sweep around to look for the fifth kid but he couldn't find one. He could see three boys and one cute little girl.

"In production." Eddie leaned back and curved his hand a little tighter around (Y/n)'s waist so his fingers could skim across her bump that Evan clearly failed to notice. They only had four months to go before they could meet baby number five, possibly less than that if their next child decided to come early like Evie had.

"Are you trying to make your own football team with all these kids?" Ravi glanced his eyes around the annex before he pushed off the balcony and moved towards the kitchen. If he was aiming for his own team, Eddie was roughly halfway there. Especially with a handful of boys and only one girl so far.

"Something like that."

Tilting her head to the side, (Y/n) leaned her cheek on Eddie's shoulder and smiled when she felt his lips against the top of her head. Her arms moved to wrap around his chest and when Eddie leaned forward, (Y/n) leaned with him. She watched him ease Evie down into the chair in front of him so she was sat beside Chris.

She began patting her hands against the table like she was drumming out a beat for everyone. When she stretched her hands out for the cup in the middle of the table, Eddie quickly grabbed it first and slid it down the end of the table towards Evan. "You're not having coffee baby, nice try."

Evan grabbed the mug and put it in the sink and found a juice bottle in the fridge which he handed over to the toddler instead.

"Why did you come down today, I thought you were all going out?" Eddie spoke quietly, hovering his lips over the shell of (Y/n)'s ear until she was shivering and squirming against him.

"I need to borrow the jeep."

"What's wrong with the car?"

It was usual for Eddie to take the jeep to work and leave (Y/n) with the car. Eddie was so used to driving bigger cars and the trucks here at the station that going back to a small car always made his driving worse. And (Y/n) felt safer driving something smaller than the jeep Eddie had. She only drove the jeep when she was desperate and had no other choice.

"Mum broke the car-"

"Chris! I didn't break the car." (Y/n) unravelled an arm from around Eddie so she could swat Chris's shoulder playfully. She pressed her lips into a thin line when he tipped his head back into her stomach and started laughing. "The car's got a flat tyre and I can't change it. Can I take the jeep, I'll come back and pick you up later when you finish."

They had been really lucky this afternoon when they went to get in the car that Nate had noticed the back tyre was deflated. (Y/n) checked it over but she couldn't put the spare on, not when she was five months pregnant and she didn't have the energy to be messing around with it.

So they had all taken a walk down to the station in hopes of robbing the jeep for the afternoon. (Y/n) would bring the kids back out later and pick Eddie up from shift so he didn't have to walk home after an eighteen hour shift.

"I'll give you a ride home. Save bringing your troop back out later to get you." A grin spread across Evan's face as he took a seat at the end of the table. He didn't mind dropping Eddie off, they finished at the same time today anyway. And it saved (Y/n) having to drag all the kids back out this way to go back home again.

"Thanks. I'll get you the keys in a minute."

"Do you boys wanna look round the fire truck before you go?"

Three pairs of eyes suddenly set on Eddie, staring up at him with pleading looks waiting for permission to go and look. The moment Eddie nodded, the twins were up and at the stairs and Chris followed behind, kissing (Y/n)'s arm as he passed.

"Do you want to go too?" Evie tilted her head back to look at Eddie and she shook her head. She didn't want to go anywhere, she was fine at the table.

She pushed her empty juice bottle away and scrambled up onto the table so she could crawl across to Hen who happily picked her up and gave her some attention.

(Y/n) perched her chin on Eddie's shoulder and smiled sweetly up at him as she moved her arms from his chest to wrap around his neck instead. Her smile broadened when Eddie turned so his chest was merged with hers and he looped both arms around her waist, rubbing his hands up and down her hips. Although they kept moving dangerously south.

"I'll go grab the keys… will you need a leg up to get in the jeep?" His teeth punctured down into his lower lip when (Y/n)'s arms tightened around his neck. He watched the way she pursed her lips and leaned her head to the side with one brow arched.

"What do you mean by that, Eddie?" If he was going to start teasing her, she was going to start using his name. He was used to petnames rolling off her lips, hearing his name meant he was either in trouble or in for a good night.

"Be careful what you say next." Bobby muttered and patted Eddie's shoulder as he walked past him to get into the kitchen.

"You think you can get up that high?" He taunted while his eyes did another sweep up and down her frame and lingered on her stomach for a few extra seconds. Eddie loved winding her up. It was always easy to get (Y/n) riled up and it didn't matter if she knew he was joking, she always went along with it and teased him in return.

"Hm, maybe not." Pushing up on her tiptoes, (Y/n) pecked his lips before she wriggled out of his arms and took a look around. "Maybe I should find a fireman strong enough to help me. Any suggestions?" Her eyes darted over his arms, squinting as if she were scrutinising him and she patted his shoulder as she walked past him like she was dismissing him out of that category.

"I think that's a challenge I can win."

(Y/n) bit down on her lower lip, trying to distort her smile as she looked across at Evan when he got up from the table. It was clear in his eyes that he was trying to wind Eddie up and taking a few steps closer to (Y/n) as if he was about to do something clearly sparked the competitive, teasing side in Eddie.

She looked across at Evie who was giggling on Hen's lap even though she didn't really understand the conversation or what they were talking about.

She felt a familiar set of hands on her arms and her breath caught in her lungs when Eddie spun her around so she was facing him.

Her arms moved and she was about to fold them over her chest but she reached out quickly when Eddie bent down. (Y/n) had no idea what he was doing. A gasp tumbled past her lips and she grabbed his shoulders to steady herself when he held her thighs and lifted her up. He lifted her high enough that she had to loop her legs around his hips when she realised he wasn't about to put her down anytime soon.

His hands stayed curled tight around the back of her thighs and he grinned when she leaned forward, pressing her chest into his and hiding her face in the crook of his neck.

"If you drop me-"

"What, like this?" Eddie bent his knees and loosened his hands on her thighs until (Y/n) slid down his torso just a little.

"Eddie!" (Y/n) snapped her eyes closed and kept her face smothered in his neck so she didn't have to look around at the team who were laughing while Evie cheered. Her arms deadlocked around Eddie's neck and she pushed forward until he dug his fingertips into her soft thighs to reassure her he had a good grip. He wouldn't purposely drop her. He would never.

"Am I strong enough for you now?"

***

(Y/n) took a step back into Eddie, hovering over the threshold when she opened the front door only to be faced with Chris. He had either been about to open the door for them or he had been waiting near the door for them to come home.

A grin spread across her features and she reached out to wrap her arms around him when he pushed forward and curled around her.

"Were you waiting for us?" She mumbled softly into his hair as she kissed his temple. She felt Eddie's hands on her hips and he slowly walked the three of them forwards so they could get inside and shut the door.

They both looked up when Carla walked out of the kitchen, the twins following at her side. "He's been waiting anxiously for you to come home." She spoke with a soft smile which made Chris lean forward and press his face into (Y/n)'s stomach.

He giggled into her shirt which made her shiver and when (Y/n) started to rake her hands through his curls, he tilted his head back and rested his chin on her stomach instead so he was looking up at her.

"You said you'd find out today. What is it?"

"It's… a baby."

(Y/n) rolled her eyes and looked over her shoulder with an unamused expression at her husband. She watched Eddie grin and ruffle Chris's hair when Chris groaned and nudged him. All the kids knew they were going to find out if the new baby was a boy or a girl and they all wanted to know. Especially Chris. He was excited to tell his friends and his teachers at school.

Chris stayed tucked under (Y/n)'s arm as they followed Eddie into the living room where Carla and the twins were setting up a movie to watch.

A grin broke out on Eddie's face and made his heart jump in his chest when he looked over at the sofa. Evie was having a power nap. The three year old was laid on her side, curled up on the cushion with her blanket tightly bound in her arms against her chest.

Moving across to the sofa, Eddie crouched down and tenderly reached out to brush his thumb across Evie's cheek. He didn't really want to wake her up from her nap, but they were home now and she needed to wake up to hear the good news.

"Hi baby," He spoke softly and quietly when Evie's eyes fluttered open and a tired smile pulled at her lips when she realised who was talking to her.

She didn't have to speak. She shuffled across until Eddie took the hint and reached out for her. He lifted her up and switched places so he was sat in her seat and she was laid on his chest instead. Her head tucked beneath his chin and her arms bound around his chest as she wriggled to get comfy against him.

Chris slumped down on the sofa next to Eddie while Finn sat next to him and Carla stood near the end of the sofa. She was eager to find out what the new baby would be, if there would be another little girl around to spoil or an army of boys to outnumber them.

And Nate shuffled across to sit between (Y/n)'s legs instead with his arms folded over her lap and his eyes concentrated on her stomach.

"Daddy?"

"Yeah, baby?" Eddie tilted his chin down so he could look at Evie. She could barely keep her eyes open and he knew in a few minutes she would be back to sleep if she didn't get overexcited about the new baby.

He took to gliding his hand up and down her back while Chris leaned his head on his shoulder.

"If it's a sister… will I still be your baby girl?" She snuggled deeper into Eddie's chest while he pressed his lips to the top of her head.

His eyes drifted over to look at (Y/n) and he could see her biting back a soft smile. Evie was so used to Eddie saying she was his little girl, his only girl apart from (Y/n). If they had another girl, she wondered if that nickname would disappear and if Eddie would have to start calling her something else.

Eddie had been in two minds about it. Up to now he had been content to say that he had one little girl and three amazing boys. He would love another girl. He loved all the kids equally, but Evie seemed the most like him, his little shadow, whereas Chris was most like (Y/n), and the twins would always switch between them. But Eddie also wanted Evie to stay his only girl.

"You don't have to worry about that, baby. You're gonna have a little brother."

"It's a boy?" Nate pushed up on his knees and pressed his lips and nose against (Y/n)'s stomach as if he was trying to see through her stomach to see the baby.

"Yep. I'm well and truly outnumbered by my boys." Leaning over, (Y/n) pressed a kiss to the top of Nate's head and began rubbing her hand up and down his back as he clung to her front.

There would be five boys in the house and only two girls.

"Another boy." Chris grinned and leaned his head on Eddie's shoulder, wrapping his arms around him to snuggle into his side. While Finn nudged his glasses higher up his nose and grinned up at Carla who was clapping happily.

"I'm daddy's only girl." Evie mumbled happily as she moved her arms higher to lock them around Eddie's neck. She shuffled up a little higher so she could tiredly look up at him with a grin and she nudged her nose against his, prompting him to give her a kiss.

"No, I've got two girls. You're my baby girl, and mummy's my best girl."

Evie nodded and began to giggle when Eddie peppered kisses all across her cheeks. She could live with that. She could very happily be his only little girl and share the title of Eddie's only girl with her mum. She slumped back down onto his chest, giggling and squirming when Eddie bound his arms around her in a bear hug and Chris leaned over to hug her too.

Soon they would have four boys and only one girl. For now.

[everythingisromant1c]

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.

[thatone-brightstar]

The Bear & The Fox (Carmy Berzatto x Fem!Reader)

Chapter 1: Bear meet Fox

Words: 5.2k

Summary: Out of everyone in the vast city of Chicago, Carmen was glad it was you who stumbled into his rundown restaurant.

a/n: I'm too in love with this man to not write about him, so I'm contributing to our shared obsession with my silly little ficcc.

Also reader is Latina in this and yes it's partially self indulgence.

You couldn't believe you were about to do it.

Not due to  excitement but mostly dread, and a bit of self loathing, that the lowest point in your life had brought you here of all places in the city. Might as well call it point Nemo because there was no way you could get any further away.

Pulling your phone from the back pocket of your jeans, you kept your eyes still on the rundown building across the deserted street, afraid it would dissipate and take with it your only chance of employment in a 200 mile radius. The phone screen lit up with the last message from your brother a few days ago and you wanted to punch him square in the face at the way he worded his stupid attempt at “helping” you find a job.

‘So you stop moping around the house cuz its getting pathetic’

Read the text under a picture of a ‘HELP WANTED’ sign, poorly taped to the inside of a surprisingly clean window, stark contrast to the grimy brick that surrounded it. A second text had also been left on read, with a maps link to the location where you stood, balancing on your feet out of nerves. You contemplated your options, as if you had any; turn around, head home and lay in bed until you withered and died of misery. God, your brother was right, you were getting pathetic.

You took a very deep breath, held it for a few seconds, then blew it out into the cold surroundings. ‘You can do it. It’s just another interview, you've done those before. More in the past month than your whole life sure, but who cares? This is the good one.’ You tried psyching yourself up. It could always be worse, you remembered, though lately it seemed more true everyday.

You forced your feet to move from their petrified state and walked towards the building, made sure that the sign was the same one your brother sent, then stood with an outstretched hand about to pull the door open when a voice coming from the left side of the building called your attention.

“Yo, sweetheart! We open at noon!” A man wearing gray joggers and an over washed shirt stood with his head peeking against the corner of the building. If it weren’t for the apron tied around his waist, you’d assume he’s some stranger sticking his nose in other people’s business, but with the bags under his eyes and the cigarette hanging from his mouth, you recognized the trademark of a tired restaurant worker.

“I’m here for the help wanted ad?” You said more like a question, raising a manila folder and shaking it so he could see that you weren’t there for sandwiches, or whatever it was they sold.

“Why?” He asked skeptically, scanning you from head to toe and taking a drag from his cigarette without using his hands. Show off.

You couldn’t come up with an answer on the spot, out of nervousness and intimidation, so you chose to shrug. You could have said you needed the job or literally anything else, but that answer seemed to be enough for him. The guy took another drag then gestured with his head for you to follow him around the corner. With a doubtful turn to the glass door, you moved to the left and followed the man into the parking spot between buildings where, you hoped, another entrance to the restaurant would be waiting for you.

You moved slowly over the gravel, making your way deeper into the empty space. A breath you didn’t know you were holding left your lips at the sight of a long metal door opened ajar, with the man finishing his cig keeping it from closing. He made a circular impatient motion with his hand while staring at you and that was enough for you to quicken your pace towards him.

“Hurry up babe, we ain’t got all day” He said with a loud voice despite being less than three feet away. “C’mon, I’ll see if I can find my asshole cousin. He’s the one who put that stupid sign up anyway.”

You fully entered the building and were immediately welcomed by the familiar scent of roasted meats and sauteed vegetables, the buzz of old vent pipes and the scraping of metal pans against the burners slightly numbed the anxiety growing in your stomach. This was familiar, this you knew. Down to the Bachata beat playing somewhere inside from an overworked radio and the blinding white lights reflecting off the even whiter tiled walls.

The man seemed to have disappeared somewhere past the kitchen, leaving you stranded in the middle of the Steward station with nothing but a half assed ‘wait here’. You clutched your folder containing your resumé near your chest and tried to make yourself as small as it was possible in the already tiny space, so as to not interfere with anyone who were to pass by in a hurry. It felt like minutes had passed and the guy had not returned. You tried to keep yourself entertained by counting the stained steel pots hanging from the hooks above the sinks, then moved to count the beat up escoffier containers that rested on the rack in front of you. When that was done, you checked your surroundings in search of someone else to help you, as the asshole had been gone for some time and it didn’t seem like he’d be back soon.

About to give up hope and ready to push the exit door, you hear a loud ‘Corner!’ headed your way and turned just in time to see a mountain of pots and pans being carried to the sinks by a faceless body. His head was turned to the other side, probably doing his best to keep an eye on the path ahead. You tried to say something but the words were stuck in your throat, so instead you stepped back out of his way and waited until he dropped the cookware. The faceless person dropped everything inside with a loud bang, then rested his arms against the metal edge, sighed and let his head hang low. From your position, scooted by the door in silence, you waited expectantly for him to turn around so you could say something; maybe explaining why you’re there would be a good way to start. But it took him some time to move. All you saw is the flexing of strained muscle on his arms as he gripped the sink like a lifeline. The movement of his tensed back as he breathed under the thin white shirt he wore brought a warmth to your cheeks and you knew you’re starting to be creepy so you forced yourself to talk.

“Hi-” Is all you get to say before he jumped back startled, wide blue eyes with a wild expression and a hand clutching over his blue apron where his heart was.

“Jesus fuck! Don’t fuckin’ do that!” He shouted at you with a hand raking through his hair. 

“Sorry!” You yelled back. Your heartbeat pounded in your throat and ears and the warmth from a few seconds ago had turned scorching hot over all your skin.

He leaned forward and rested his hands over his knees trying to calm his pulse, then chuckled lightly and regained his composure. “No no you’re good, I-uh I didn’t mean to yell like that but you scared the shit outta me.”

He passed his hand over his face then left it over his mouth, contemplating you for a solid minute. He looked over at you unsure of what to say as you stood holding your folder to your chest and balancing on your feet. 

“Right… so'' He leaned against the sink. “Who are you?”

“Yeah sorry, I saw you were asking for help up front and wanted to see if it was still available.” You said pointing to where you assumed was front of house. In the small space, you couldn’t really make out the layout of the place. “Some asshole guy let me in but then left me here.”

“Fuckin’ Richie” He says under his breath. “Yeah, yeah it still is. You got any papers on you?”

You hand him the folder you had been clutching to your chest. He looked at you one last time then opened it to find your wrinkled resume inside. While he analyzed the information you peeked another look at him. Ashy blond hair framed a strong jaw and nose. He had a broad back and strong arms, likely from all the physical effort it took to work in a kitchen, and even though he took up some space, it seemed like he tried to shrink into himself. The  pale skin on his arms was littered with designs that you couldn’t make out from the distance, but you could see the hyper pigmentation of a few scars.

“Oven?” You ask, pointing to a small angry red mark across his forearm.

“What? Oh fuuuck.” He said as he turned his arm. “That’s the first time I see it, honestly.” 

You laughed lightly under your breath, before he turned to you with a small smile.

“C’mon.” He guided you out the Steward section and you assumed he’d take you to whoever was in charge of the place.

Your nerves had settled due to the familiar ambiance, as he conducted you through the different sections where a few cooks turned curiously, then settled by the expo  that stood tall facing the small window opening into the dining area.

“Mind if we check it here? The office is a shit hole right now.” He looked down at you with expectant eyes.

You swallowed dryly, you weren’t expecting him to be the one in charge. Does that mean you were checking out your future boss? Fuck. You nodded, afraid to trust your own voice. He nodded back then looked at the worn out paper.

“You have a pretty cool resume.” He started. “You’ve been all over the place. Hostess, service, line cook. Private chef for two years, where was that?”

“Uhm, some rich folks up in Lincoln Park. Just dinner and meal prep.” You said as nonchalant as possible.

“Well listen, I don’t think I can pay you as well as they did.” He joked. “We’re not that big of a place and in all honesty, business’ a little tight right now.” 

And there it was, the last rejection you were expecting. You looked down at your hands and did your best to calm the bile climbing up your throat.

“But we could really use the help, so maybe I can offer you to help out up front and once we’re back on our feet, you can move back here. The pay’s not the best and the hours are crazy long but it’s just in the meantime.” He stayed quiet waiting for an answer.

Your head snapped up to look at him after the first half, still surprised it wasn’t a rejection. You didn’t notice you had been quietly staring until he raised his brows expectantly.

“Wait, so that means I’m hired?” You questioned, still cautious.

“Yeah, you think you can start today?”

“Yes, yes thank you so much!” You cleared your throat to hide the too obvious excitement. “Yeah, I’ll just need a place to drop off my things.”

“Great, well we gave Sydney our last empty locker, but you can keep your bag in the office. It’s pretty safe.” He pointed to a closet sized door to the left and asked you to follow him while he explained that family was served before opening and that he’d introduce everyone then.

After dropping your bag inside the dimly lit room, that was indeed a shit hole, he guided you back to the kitchen, then through a white door that pushed into the front of house. You saw the asshole leaning against the long counter separated from the tables, telling a very engaging story to a shorter man in a backwards cap who appeared to just want to finish fixing a broken tap. When the door slammed behind you, they both turned towards you and the chef, who you had yet to know the name of. The taller of the two’s eyes grew in realization and his hand flew to his mouth in a fist to try and hide his laugh.

“Shiiit, my bad doll. I swear I went lookin’ for ‘em but fuckin’ Fak here couldn’t keep his pipe shut and started talking!” He said, using the back of his other hand to slap at the chest of the other man who turned offended to him.

“I didn’t say shit!  You came running to me talkin’ about the pretty girl you had in the bac-” 

“Both of you shut the fuck up and listen” The man behind you interrupted impatient, he placed his hand lightly on your lower back and pushed you further into the room. The placement of his hand did nothing to subside the growing shade of pink in your cheeks from the comment. “This is… shit sorry, I never asked your name.” He turned to you, hand still on your back.

A quiet ‘it’s okay’ left your lips and you introduced yourself to the group of men. The chef repeated your name to himself as a way of memorizing it, then spoke back to the group.

“Richie, she’ll be helping you up front.” 

“Fuck you, I’m not babysitting!” He turns to you. “No offense sweetheart, but this,” He said signaling the bar, “is a one man symphony, okay? I can’t have you screwing with my system.”

You did your best not to roll your eyes at him, because of course you expected him to be defensive about it. Enough experience in the service industry had shown you that older people tended to be quite resistant towards change, especially if the change came in the form of barely 5’3 and female. Sure you were young, you had barely graduated culinary school two years ago during the pandemic, but you had been working since your third year so you were more than familiar with the business.

“Well you have a shitty system.” Said Fak under his breath as he finished unscrewing something.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Richie said, offended. 

“I’m just saying man, you could use the help. I saw you jump at a customer the other day cause he was asking for ketchup.”

“Cause only idiots ask for ketchup with a sandwich!” He threw his hands in the air and turned his back to Fak.

“He was ten!” He shouted back.

“Look, I don’t have time to argue! Richie, you imbecile, take the help cause you need it and stop jumping on people before you catch a case, all right?!” He turned to you, rubbed your back with his hand still there and smiled slightly. “You’ll do great.” He says finally before turning to Richie and pointing up at him while walking back. “Don’t fuckin’ scare her off.”

And he was gone out the door. Richie made a gesture with both his hands pushing from under his chin to where the chef had disappeared then turned to you. He stayed silent, one hand on the bar and another on his hips as he stared at you in intimidation. You held his gaze, not cowarring now that you knew he wasn’t going to murder you. An ‘Aha!’ from Fak brought him back and he slapped his hand on the bar.

“Alright c'mon. I’m gonna need you to organize back here while I sweep around the tables. We open at 12 so we got enough time. Got it? ” He finished.

You salute with your right hand, rolled up your sleeves and walked behind the bar to start working on the task. “Yes, chef.” You mumbled out of habit.

“Nah, don’t fuckin’ start with that ‘chef’ thing with me, I’m already up to my balls with Carmy sayin’ it all the time.” He replied exasperated.

“Fine. Yes, asshole. Whatever.” You respond, rolling your eyes and starting to take things out from the fridge at the bottom of the counter.

You heard a snicker from Fak a few feet away, followed by a smacking sound and an ‘Ow! Fuck you!’ before Richie’s sneakers squeaked away into the other room. What you didn’t see was the small smirk on his face as he started walking away. You had balls, he’d give you that.

You powered through the absolute rat’s nest the bottom of the counter was. An empty jar of pickles, two moldy sausages and a single slab of cheese without the wrapper were only a couple of things you found while trying to clean the mess. You took anything useless and dumped it into a black trash bag Fak was nice enough to get you, before showing you where they kept all the cleaning supplies so you weren’t in the dark. It took you two trips to the supply shelf, a sponge, a rag and half a bottle of dish soap to ultimately get rid of the stale grease that gave the impression to have been there since the opening of the place. Once you were satisfied with the way you organized the station, you moved to scrub the top of all the counters and even give a little swipe with the rag on all the stools.

You had baby hairs sticking to your forehead and cheeks by the time you were done, even your jacket had been discarded and thrown under the now clean bar, but a satisfied smile rested on your face despite all that. God, you really missed working. You finally took some time to admire all the framed pictures littering the surrounding walls. Most were of sports players you weren’t familiar with; one, because you really weren’t a fan of any sport, and two, because the pictures looked so old that most of the specific features had been erased from too much exposure to the sun. There were also football jerseys hanging by a corner near the unlit menu and a big ‘Beef Deli’ sign on the wall behind you. You saw a couple cooks moving around behind the window under the sign and a little knot formed in your stomach at the thought of having to introduce yourself in a while.

You checked your wristwatch on your left hand while you wiped the sweat from your forehead with your right, hoping you still had some time to kill. But before you could look down, a voice by the door called your name. You looked up to see the chef, Carmy you had learned his name was, looking at you with a small smile.

“Front of house looks good, chef.” He complemented, clear blue eyes scanning the counters as he leaned against the door, hands playing with a spoon.

You took a deep breath and smiled back, holding onto your wrists behind your back, “Thanks, chef. I-uhm hope you don’t mind that I took some Fabuloso to wipe down the counter by the window. It smelled like shit.” You finish, pointing at the purple liquid in the spray bottle beside you.

“Yeah, no that’s fine.” He answers, a small laugh stuck in his throat. “But that was actually Tina’s so don’t let her see you used it.”

Your mouth opened slightly as your eyes grew, and you were afraid to ask how bad it would be if she found out. He straightened up with a smirk and tapped his spoon twice on the metal counter before signaling for you to follow him with his head.

“C’mon, family’s up.”

You turned on your heel to follow him into the other room, but jogged back, jumped over the counter high enough to slap the spray bottle with sufficient force for it to fall and roll under the counter. You did not know Tina, but you were sure as hell you also didn’t want to get your shit rocked on your first day on the job. 

You tried tidying up your hair back into a less messy ponytail and combed all the stray baby hairs before entering the adjacent room where the other workers were getting ready for family. Some faces stared from their seats, questioning the presence of the stranger invading their space. A few you had met on the rush while taking the garbage bags out or crossing the kitchen to the supply shelf. Marcus, the pastry chef, waved with a simple smile and pointed to an empty space beside him. The simple action brought a wave of relief over your shoulders as you advanced towards him, hands interlocked in nerves. You mumbled a ‘Thanks.’ and served yourself a glass of water from the pitcher in front of you.

Once everyone was sitting with a container of food in front, the chef introduced you to the table and let everyone know you’d be helping out up front with the service and that if they had any questions, they could ask you directly. The first one to jump at the opportunity was an older man with dark skin, asking you in a thick accent if you were related to Tina. There was a burst of laughter around the table, but he seemed to be serious about his question.

“Ebra, not all latinos are related you racist fucker.” Responded a small woman sitting beside him with a slap to his arm. Okay, so that’s Tina, you thought. “That’s like me saying you and Marcus are related cause you’re both black.” She finished pointing at the tall man sitting beside you.

“We are related.” Ebra responded with a teasing smile, staring at Marcus and you immediately knew where this was going. “I am his grandfather- his mom called me daddy last night!”

Another roar of laughter shattered along the table and you had to stick a spoonful of rice in your mouth to hide your smile. You heard a ‘C’mon man, that’s not right.’ from Marcus as he shook his head, but the creeping grin let you know that it was all in fun. The conversation flowed between comments on the food and stories they all recounted, glad to have a fresh pair of ears to hear them.

One of Richie’s was from a few weeks ago, when they had set up a video game tournament at the restaurant to make some extra cash and the nerds in line had gone so bat shit crazy, that one punched Carmy on the jaw and he had to go out and ‘beat their asses into shape’. You slowly swallowed the bite you had taken and stared at Richie sitting at the end by Carmy.

“Was he dressed like a giant carrot… By any chance?” You ask mortified. 

“No shit! You know the fucker?!” He yelled, slamming his hands on the table. Everyone turned to you like you were holding a new piece to a worthy puzzle.

You covered your face with your hands then crossed them in front of your chin. “Yeah… I think that fucker’s my 19 year old brother.” You affirmed scrunching your face in disgust. Fuckin’ Joshua.

The table went wild with jokes about how Carmy had almost gotten knocked out by a teen and through the hysterics you could still make out Richie’s voice saying “Oh my god, sweetheart. Thank you, really. You just made my WEEK!”  All you could do was pick around your container as heat crept up your neck.

You peered up through your lashes at Carmen sitting with a mortifying look and mouthed a heartfelt ‘Sorry’ for what felt like the tenth time that day. He was leaning back with his arms crossed, smiled with an ‘it’s okay’ and let everyone take a jab with their jokes. You looked back down to your food and did your best to drown out the teasing noises from everyone, but were unaware of how the chef raised his brows and swallowed dryly with his gaze still on you.

After minutes of teasing, everyone picked up their empty dishes and separated into their areas. You stayed in the dining room wiping down the tables that were left to clean before opening service and a couple of ideas came to mind on how you could decorate them to reduce the depressing feeling. At least for now, napkins and holders would do, the rest would have to wait. You power walked to the front where you remembered seeing a packet that looked to be from napkins, but once you reached inside all you found were a bunch of wrinkled brown pieces of paper.

“Richie!” You yelled from your crouched position.

“Yo!” He yelled back, head popping above you over the counter.

“I can’t seem to find any napkins.” You spoke while still searching hopefully in the space.

“You’re holdin’ em.” He stated, matter-of-factly. 

You stand fully and shake the supposed napkins in front of you. “Richie, these are stained and say Starbucks on em!” 

His grin grew wide on his face as he walked back with extended arms. “Welcome to The Beef, kid!” He laughed, then leaned down to unlock the glass door where you could already see some people forming a line.

You quickly dropped the napkins, grabbed the blue half apron you had been given and tied it around your waist as fast as possible. Fuck, fuck, fuck. A fuckin’ heads up would’ve been nice, you thought as you plastered on a soft smile for the clients.

“Alright, fuckos! We’re open!” He shouted into the restaurant and wiggled his brows towards you. “Goodluck.”

Fuck.

*****

He was worried for you for the first fifteen minutes after opening. Afraid you’d see the mess you had stumbled upon or that his idiot cousin would say something that would have you grabbing your bag and leaving without as much as a goodbye. He wouldn’t blame you, hell, he would’ve even done the same if his name wasn’t in the lease  now instead of his brother’s.

He stopped worrying however, when he saw the way you managed yourself around the floor and customers. Empty plates were picked up with ease and replaced with warm ones that spent less than five minutes on the counter, the orders were taken within minutes and served with a kind smile. He was even surprised when you walked away from the other side of the expo with three plated sandwiches balancing in one hand and a forth plate in the other.

“Can you manage, chef?” He even asked when he saw you trying to find the perfect space between your fingers that could balance the plate, your lip caught in concentration.

You looked at him with your head still bowed and a breathy smile. “Yeah, thanks.” Then turned your back to deliver the dishes. 

It wasn’t his intention for his gaze to linger longer than it did as your hips swayed naturally with every step, or when despite the hectic sound of the kitchen he could still hear you laugh politely at a joke from one of their regulars. But it was only until Syd elbowed him in the side that he noticed he was being a bit creepy. Jesus, it’s like your 14 again, he thought.

“You’re worried Richie’s gonna scare her off but you’re the one giving me the creeps with all the staring.” She said after reading the printed ticket for another order.

“Heard, chef.” Was all he said, cleared his throat and went back to work, doing his best not to look up every time you walked to receive a new order.

It was only when the lunch rush died down and he was in desperate need of a cigarette, that he saw you sitting down with your head resting against the cold bricks of the adjacent building and eyes closed peacefully. He didn’t want to bother you, but he also didn’t want to waste the opportunity of telling you how well you had done in the first half of the day. Besides, the heavy door behind him slammed closed and startled you slightly, so there was no going back now.

“Hey.” You smiled softly, stretching your arms above your head and your legs straight forward, then relaxed altogether. 

“You smoke?” Carmy asked, offering you a cig as he sat on the empty crate a few feet away from you, elbows resting on his knees.

You shook your head no, but thanked him anyway. “I quit a few months ago.” You said just as he flicked his lighter on and the tip grew bright orange.

“Shit, sorry. If it bothers you I can turn it off.” He offered. He wanted to say ‘I can go somewhere else’ but he didn’t want to give you the idea that he didn’t wanna be there.

You shook your head no again still smiling and pulled one of your legs to your chest, turning to him. “So…” You asked curious. “How’d I do for my first half?”

Carmy chuckled lightly as he exhaled smoke into the air. He turned to you from his crouched position and for the fifth time that day, he took a good look at your face. Jesus fuck, how could someone as beautiful as you end up in his dump of all places? Despite your overworked expression and a few small bags beneath your eyes, he was sure he had never seen anyone’s face glow with such brightness as yours did now. His eyes danced around your face, taking in every single freckle he could before he tore them away after what to him felt like an eternity of staring- no- admiring your features.

“You did way better than I expected. Truly, chef. Thank you.” He whispered and, despite the noisy Chicago surroundings, you heard every word.

Your smile beamed brighter for what felt like the first time in months and the fist that had been constricting your heart for a while now seemed to give you some much needed space to breathe. 

Carmy finished his cigarette in comfortable silence, now laying back against the cold brick wall that helped ease the rising temperature in his body, while you played with the aquamarine ring on your pointer finger that reminded you too much of the chef’s specific shade of blue eyes.

“What’s Carmy short for?” You asked all of a sudden, pulling him out of his internal thoughts.

It took him a couple of seconds to process the question, then smiled down to the gravel under his feet. “Uhm- it’s short for Carmen. It’s a family name. " He responded.

“Oh.” Was all you said, nodding your head. “It's nice. I have a cousin named Carmen.” You continue with a smile on your lips.

“Yeah?” He asked, turning down towards you, only to see you stand up and  clean off the dust from the back of your black jeans and readjust the apron around your waist.

You stood with your hands on your hips and stared down at him for another second before smiling and making your way to the tall door. “Yeah, but she’s a girl.” You reply without turning back and push your way into the restaurant, leaving the chef with a snickering grin and a lightheaded feeling he wished wasn’t just from the nicotine.

Chapter 2.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 16- The Lone Star State

Summary: You and Javi head to Dallas for the weekend to make good on his Christmas present to the Stars vs. Blackhawks game. While you're there, you run into someone from your past that sets the weekend in a different direction.

Word Count: 15.7K (I'm genuinely so sorry except I'm not)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) strap in y'all... unprotected p in v sex, creampie, breeding kink, praise kink, oral (f and m receiving), vaginal fingering, light bondage (aren't we glad Javi brought his work tie?!), multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, dom/sub Javi AND Osita (omg y'all), Javi being a whining, WHIMPERING mess (it deserves its own warning) violence (Javi punches someone), alcohol/being tipsy, food/eating, I'm not even gonna lie everyone... This chapter is really just hockey and sex LMAOOOOO

A/N: Trick or Treat! Here's a lil Halloween something for all of you being so patient and waiting for me to finish this unexpected monster 🫣 I swear, I thought I was gonna struggle to make this chapter long enough, and now here we are, with the longest NTL chapter to date 🥴 SO EAT UP AND ENJOY 🤪 Shout out to @endlessthxxghts for listening to my horny ramblings about this chapter ILYYYYYYY

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

Your teacher guilt had never been good at letting you take days off. You had gone to school with sore throats, stuffy noses, fevers, hell, you had gone to school with what you were convinced was the plague because you felt so bad leaving your class with a sub. So when it came to taking personal days, it was safe to say, you felt even worse. That’s why Javi knew when he had planned your Christmas trip to Dallas with a Friday night game for the Chicago Blackhawks vs. the Dallas Stars, he was going to need plenty of backup support from your co-workers to convince you it was okay to take a Friday afternoon off to do something for yourself to enjoy. 

“Okay, and just make sure that the substitute knows that all of the worksheets for math are on my desk next to-” 

“MIJA. Dios Mio. Yes, yes, yes, I will make sure the substitute knows where everything is. It is a Friday afternoon, all she needs to do is keep them alive. Don’t worry about a thing, I promise I have it covered. Now go! Tu futuro esposo te está esperando! (Your future husband is waiting for you!)” Maria waved her hand at you, practically shooing you out of your own classroom, trying to get you to stop explaining your very detailed plans you had left behind that you had already told her 4 different times leading up to today, in addition to leaving an extra copy on her desk, just in case something went wrong. 

“Okay, okay! Thank you Maria. You’re the best.” You laughed, slinging your bag over your shoulder, starting to make your way down the hall to the front office. 

“Yo se. Ten un buen fin de semana! (I know. Have a fun weekend!). Not too much fun, if you know what I mean.” Maria winked, waving goodbye as she walked the opposite direction back towards her own classroom. 

“Maria!” You grimaced, your face turning bright red watching her cackle in delight as she closed her door behind her. You took a final breath as you headed down the hallway, convincing yourself that your class would be just fine for their substitute, and even if they weren’t, well, that would just have to be Monday’s problem. 

“Man, you’re really sexy for a taxi driver, you taking people to the airport, hottie?” you giggled, hopping into the passenger’s side of Javi’s truck, tossing your school bag into the backseat with the rest of your suitcases. Like most people’s jobs, Javi’s work at the sheriff’s department didn’t require him to leave behind detailed instructions of how to keep 25 8 year olds alive and educated when he wanted to take time off, so he had offered to leave work early to pack up all of your things so you could head right to the airport from Alma Pierce Elementary. “Oh my god, and you got BLT’s from Alejandro’s, too? Sexiness and bringing me sandwiches? This is the best cab ride I’ve ever had.” The two of you laughed as Javi rolled his eyes at you, passing you over your sandwich as you headed en route to the Laredo Airport. 

“You’re such a weirdo. How was your day, Osita?” Javi asked, reaching over to place his hand on your leg, gently tracing circles in the denim of your jeans as you chowed down on your sandwich, finally getting a chance at a bite of food for the first time since breakfast. 

“Better now that I’m with you. And that you brought me this delicious sandwich. I’ve been so distracted all day because I’ve been so excited for this weekend.” You beamed through bites of your BLT, reaching down to give Javi’s hand a squeeze. 

“Me too, Hermosa. I’ve never been to Dallas before, so I’m glad my first trip is with you.” 

“Seriously? I guess I forget how big Texas is. It’s probably like what, a 7 hour drive from Laredo?” You shrugged, taking another bite of your sandwich, trying to calculate the distance in your brain. 

“About 6 and a half. Which is exactly why we’re flying, and not driving.” 

“What? You don’t wanna spend 6 and a half hours in the car with me?” You smirked, giving him a playful nudge with your elbow before crossing your arms over your chest. 

“No, I don’t wanna spend 5 hours and 45 minutes by myself driving while you sleep the whole way.” He laughed, elbowing you back, the both of you knowing you made the worst road trip partner for any drive longer than an hour, since you’d be sound asleep in the passenger’s seat as Javi drove. 

“To be fair, you’re always the one driving.” You retorted, rolling your eyes at his jab, knowing he wasn’t wrong. 

“Because you refuse to drive my truck, and I’m convinced if you drive your car anywhere more than 10 miles at a time, it’ll collapse.” 

“Hey! Woodstock can make it at least a good 50 before I start to get genuinely concerned. I trust him more than I trust the metal death trap we’re about to ride in. I think you just like watching me suffer while we fly because you know how much I hate it.” You sassed, giving him an unseriously stern look that had you on the verge of bursting into laughter. 

“I think the bones in my hand would beg to differ, Hermosa. After the past two flights to Chicago, I’m surprised I have any left considering the death grip you have every time we take off and land.” Javi chuckled, nudging you back. 

“Like I said Jav, you’re the one who booked the flight, can’t blame this one on me.” 

To neither of your surprise, you couldn’t help but find your hand tightly wrapped in Javi’s for the hour and a half flight from Laredo to Dallas. Although he refrained from giving you any shit as you sat only partially paralyzed next to him on your trip, his “I told you so” look as the two of you got off the plane was all he needed to do to have you rolling your eyes, knowing as long as the two of you flew together, he would always tease you for crushing his hand, but you and him both knew he wouldn’t want it any other way. 

Your cab ride from the airport to the hotel was a quick trip, Javi picking a hotel downtown close to fun bars and restaurants for the two of you to try, and to Reunion Arena where you were headed in a few hours to watch the Stars and the Blackhawks play. You both unpacked your bags from the taxi, Javi insisting that he carry your bag too. It didn’t take long into your relationship for you to give up on trying to persuade Javi that you could carry your own bags, open your own doors or go get things yourself, his response always being “I know you can, Hermosa, but I want to.” While the stubborn part of you always wanted to fight him on it, there was always a part of you that couldn’t help but smile every time he insisted on doing things for you simply because he wanted to, for no other reason than the fact he loved you. 

“Hi, we’re checking in. The name should be under Javier Peña.” Javi smiled at the woman at the front desk of the hotel as the both of you strolled up hand in hand. 

“Alright Mr. and Mrs. Peña it looks like we’ve got you checking in tonight and then checking out on Sunday, is that correct?” The woman nodded back at the two of you, clicking away at the keyboard in front of her to gather the rest of your room information. You and Javi paused for a moment, quietly looking at each other with smug grins on your faces, feeling no need to correct her mistake. 

“Yup, that’s us.” You chimed in, giving Javi a little nudge under the counter, still smirking at the thought of hearing your last name as his. 

“Perfect! We have you staying in room 403. If you take a left down this hallway, the elevators are right that way. Have a wonderful stay, Mr. and Mrs. Peña!” The woman grinned, handing over your room keys and gesturing down the hallway, the two of you nodding back, giving a polite thanks as you grabbed your bags and headed off towards your room. 

“Didn’t feel the need to correct her on that one, huh?” You giggled, playfully poking at Javi as the two of you waited for the elevator. 

“Absolutely not, Mrs. Peña.” He grinned, grabbing your bags as the two of you stepped through the open doors of the elevator, glad to find it empty as you pressed the button to ride up to your floor. “Fuck, I can’t believe in a few months you’re actually gonna be my wife. God, I can’t wait.” 

You could feel the heat creeping up your cheeks, butterflies swirling in your stomach as you looked up at him, soft smiles spread across both your faces. “Me neither. Crazy to think the next time we stay at a hotel together it’ll be on our honeymoon.” You smirked, raising an eyebrow at him, biting down on your lip. Javi shook his head, running his hand over his face almost in disbelief before pulling you in closer, reaching his hand down to grab a handful of your ass as his voice rasped in your ear. 

“Fuck me. Better make sure we put this hotel room to good use and get some practice in before we go then, huh?” 

Before you could respond, you could hear the ding of the elevator doors sliding open, Javi quickly pulling away, noticing several hotel guests standing on the other side of the door, grabbing your bags and getting off the elevator. You let out a deep sigh, trying to compose yourself as you excused yourself through the small crowd, giving Javi a goofy, stern look as he laughed, carting your bags behind him as you made your way down the hall towards your room. 

“You cannot just be saying stuff like that, you menace. You know we do not have time to do anything before we have to leave, and you’re gonna get me all hot and bothered.” You grimaced, playfully swatting at him as he set down your things to grab the room key out of his pocket. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Osita. I would never do that.” Javi joked, a boyish grin growing between his cheeks as he pushed open the door, hauling your bags inside. “Plus, you know I could make it quick, we could have time if you really wanted to.” Throwing your bags down on the ground next to the bed, Javi smirked as he sat down on the edge, giving you the sweet brown eyes he knew you couldn’t resist. 

“Oh bullshit you never would, you dork.” You rolled your eyes, making your way over to Javi, slotting yourself in between his legs as you ran your hands through the soft brown curls of his hair, pressing a tender kiss on his lips before pulling away, cupping your hand around his cheek. “Believe me, I know you could, but the game starts in an hour and a half and we still have to eat dinner and get to the stadium. You spent all this money on me to take me here to see the game and we’re not missing it because you can’t keep it in your pants, mister.” 

“When you’ve got a future wife as hot as you, can you blame me?” Javi shrugged, wrapping his arms around your waist, reaching his hands down to grab your ass again, tugging you hard enough to make you fall over on top of him, making you giggle as you landed on his chest. 

“You’re ridiculous, you know that? Believe me, once we get back, my future husband can have me any way he wants me. But right now, we have a hockey game to get to, Mr. Peña.” You grinned, biting down on your lip before giving him another quick kiss and pushing yourself off the bed, leaving Javi still laying down wide eyed and worked up as you rummaged through your suitcase, pulling out a Blackhawks jersey for you, and one from Charlie’s extensive collection for Javi to borrow, tossing it on the bed next to him. You shuffled out of the sweater you had worn to work, leaving you in just your bra and jeans as you searched through your bag to pull out a crewneck to wear under your jersey. 

“Any way? You’re not making this any easier on me.” Javi huffed, beginning to shed his own jacket to change, undressing you with his eyes faster than you could have undressed yourself. 

“Well you’re not about to make it any easier on me once you put that jersey on either.” You sighed, watching Javi throw on his jersey over his shirt, your jaw immediately going slack at the sight. “Jesus Christ, you’re so hot. God, I can’t even look at you. C’mon, we gotta get outta here before we miss this whole game.” You laughed, overdramatically shielding your eyes from Javi, marching your way over to the door to avoid any temptations. Javi chuckled, grabbing his jacket and following behind you, opening up the door for you, outstretching his arm toward the hallway. 

“After you, Mrs. Peña.” 

Someway or another, the two of you managed to make it out of the hotel, deciding on a barbeque restaurant down the street from the stadium for dinner. The two of you decided to get ribs to split, leaving Javi equal parts shocked and impressed at the speed you demolished your dinner, realizing you were much hungrier than you had anticipated. After finishing your dinner, the two of you walked over to Reunion Arena, perhaps feeling a little like the odd ones out in your red and black amongst a sea of green and gold, but the feeling of being back in a stadium to watch a live hockey game filled you with a sense of comfort and content even if you were far from your home arena in Chicago. 

“I haven’t been to an NHL game in so long. You seriously have no idea how excited I am for this, thank you so much, Jav.” You beamed, squeezing his hand as the two of you made your way into the arena, working your way through the sizeable crowd, considering how well the Dallas Stars had been doing this season. “I feel honored to be the first one to take you to your first professional hockey game.”

“Of course, Osita. I’m excited to be here with you. If it wasn’t for you, I would have gone my whole life without ever watching a hockey game.” Javi smiled, gripping your hand a little tighter than usual as you navigated through the sea of fans, trying to find your seats. 

There hadn’t been many instances where you and Javi had found yourselves in large crowds of people, but whenever you did, you could always sense the slight shift in Javi’s demeanor- While it didn’t make him uneasy, you could always tell he was a little more on alert and on edge. Your brothers had been the same way when they had come back from active duty whenever they were in crowds, and you could understand why Javi felt that way, too. But what Javi was that your brothers weren’t when you found yourselves in these situations was overly protective of you. Holding your hand tighter than normal, shielding your body with his whenever you had to walk through a crowd, giving guys who looked in your direction a little too long a death glare he hoped you wouldn’t catch- Javi would never admit it, knowing the stubborn and independent woman you were, but you knew just as well as he did that he got just a touch more possessive whenever the two of you went out, and tonight was no exception. 

Javi had tried to chalk it up to the fact that you stood out because of your opposing jerseys, but he couldn’t help but notice the looks that you had been getting since the minute you had entered the stadium, the wandering eyes of groups of guys with their buddies silently nodding to each other with subtle smirks on their faces as you unassumingly walked by. And while he was never worried that you would do anything about it, he couldn’t help but feel a little heat start to burn in the pit of his stomach as men looked your way a little too long, especially as the two of you walked hand in hand through the arena, the men glancing in your direction knowing you were off limits because you were his. While he wouldn’t say it, and was going to try his damndest not to show it, Javi couldn’t help but feel a little jealous. 

After a quick walk through the arena, you and Javi found your section, practically dragging him down the steps towards your seats in excitement to know your seats were right up against the boards at center ice, which, to you, were the best seats in all of hockey regardless of where you were watching. “Javi, holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, these seats are amazing, I have never had seats this good at a hockey game ever! You sure these are our seats? Like, we actually get to sit here?” You squealed, pointing to the pair of empty seats in your row, practically bouncing in excitement. 

“Yes, actually.” Javi laughed, beaming at your pure joy and excitement as you plopped into your spots, watching you take in the sights and sounds of the pre-game excitement. You were like a little kid on Christmas, even giddier than you were when you first saw the tickets on the day as your present, filling Javi’s heart to know his gift had brought you such genuine happiness. 

Looking up at the scoreboard, you figured you had just enough time to go to the bathroom and grab the two of you a beer before the game started, shooting up out of your seat and giving Javi a quick kiss on the cheek as you scooted past him. “Where are you going?” Javi asked, looking at you with confusion as you made your way down the aisle. 

“I gotta pee and I’m gonna go grab us drinks before the game starts.” You gestured up towards the stairs and then back at the game clock ticking down towards zero. You were equally as confused as Javi started to stand up too, looking like he was getting ready to follow you. “You need to pee, too?” 

“No, I was uh- I was gonna go with you.” Stuck halfway between standing and sitting, Javi paused, trying to silently convey to you that he didn’t mind going, for his own sake to know that no one was going to try and bother you on your trip. 

“Jav, I’m good, it’ll be like 5 minutes, don’t worry.” You nodded reassuringly, giving him a little shrug as you made your way up the steps to the entrance of your section. 

“O-okay.” Javi half smiled back at you, watching the whole way you went up before you disappeared into the crowd, leaving him anxiously tapping his fingers against his jeans as he waited for you to return. 

The one benefit of being a female hockey fan was that you seemed to come few and far between, making your trips to the bathroom at any game much shorter than the average women’s bathroom line, happily speeding in and out before making your way over to the concession stand. You stood in line, peeking your head over the other people waiting with you to try and see what your beer choices were on the menu above the cash registers, when you noticed familiar flashes of red and black jerseys a few lines over. Out of curiosity, you stood on your tiptoes, peering through the crowd to see who else had Blackhawks jerseys on all the way out in Dallas. Taking a few steps forward with your moving line, you were able to get a better look at the group of guys chatting amongst each other, only able to see the backs of their heads and the player’s jerseys they were wearing, until one of them turned around towards you making your gut sink and your heart stop. 

There’s no fucking way.  

You immediately turned around, hoping the group hadn’t seen you staring, visibly shaking your head to try and clear your thoughts. You quickly looked over once more, only able to see the backs of their heads again, making it easier to convince yourself you must have just been seeing things. 

“Ma’am? Ma’am? Are you ready to order?” A woman called out from the cash register, trying to get your attention as you stood frozen in disbelief, staring at the ground. 

“Uh, yeah, yeah. Sorry. Um, can I uh- I can I just get two Miller Lites, please?” You asked, pulling out your wallet and handing over a few bills and your ID, nervously bouncing your leg while you waited for her to return with your drinks, stuffing your change back into your pocket and grabbing your beers. You tried as best as you could to book it back to your seats, praying that if who you thought you had seen was really there, you had made it out fast enough that they hadn’t seen you. 

You had made it back just in time, the lights in the arena now beginning to dim, the crowd roaring as the Blackhawks and the Stars skated out of the tunnel to greet the crowd and warm up before the game started. You had hoped that the darkness of the arena would be enough to hide your rattled expression from Javi as you snuck back to your seat, passing his beer off to him as you sat down with yours, taking a long swig before setting it down in your cup holder. While the lack of lights may have been enough to hide your face, it wasn’t enough to make up for your silence as you sat down next to Javi, now looking over at you with concern. “You okay, Osita?” He asked, reaching down to wrap his hand around your knee that you had been trying to keep from anxiously tapping since you got back to your seat. 

“Uh, yeah. Yeah. I’m good. I just- um, I just thought I saw someone that I knew here but I don’t know how the hell it would be them or why they would be in Dallas, so it must have just been someone who looked like them. Sorry, it was just weird.” You shook your head again, trying to use any rational part of your brain to convince yourself of your words, and not let it ruin the rest of your night. “I’m good, I promise.” Leaning over the edge of your seat, you planted a soft kiss on Javi’s cheek, giving him a reassuring smile before letting out a big cheer as the announcer began shouting out the names of the Blackhawks starting lineup through the arena. 

Thankfully, it didn’t take much for you to forget about your unsettling observation at the concession stand- the excitement and energy of the game quickly took over, cheering and screaming as the puck dropped and the first period began. The seats that Javi had picked out were incredible, giving you a close up on all of the action, including a few body checks pressed up against the glass right next to you as the two teams battled on the ice. You had always told Javi whenever you watched games on TV that you never expected him to care or be nowhere near as invested as you were, but knowing how important it was to you and how much you loved it, he had made an effort to try and learn as much as he could to keep up, leaning over to your seat every once in a while to ask you questions or try and point out something he noticed. It warmed your heart to see how much Javi wanted to show that he cared, and made you even more thrilled to see that he was just as into watching the game as you were, now yelling and clapping along with you opposite the crowd filled with Dallas Stars fans. Anything you did with Javi made you happy, simply because you got to be with him, but you really owed it to him for making this one of the best hockey games that you had been to in a very, very long time. 

As the second period came to a close, the Blackhawks were up 2-1, the two of you so excited by the game that you hadn’t realized you both could go for another beer refill and another trip to the bathroom. You made your way up the stairs, Javi following close behind as you parted ways at the entrance to your section, agreeing that you would go get your drinks and meet him at the concession stand, since your trip to the bathroom was probably going to be much shorter than his. After a quick run through a nearly empty bathroom, you shot back over to the concession stand, standing back in the same line you were before, completely forgetting about your observation from your last trip. 

Grabbing both of your beers, you leaned against a pillar next to the concession stand, waiting for Javi to come back from the bathroom, when you heard the faintly familiar voices nearby, your stomach starting to turn once again, looking out at the crowd to see if you could find where they were coming from. You peered your head the opposite direction of where you came, feeling a sense of relief with no black or red jerseys in sight, cautiously tiling your eyes back the other way, only to feel your heart sink to the pit of your stomach with the group of guys now standing in front of you. Your chest began to pound, squeezing your eyes shut, somehow hoping it would make you, or better yet, them disappear, but it was no use. 

“I told you it was her! How’s it going, Ice Princess? Long time, no see! I can’t fucking believe this. Paul! Paul! Get over here, I told you it was her, you motherfucker!” 

Letting out a deep breath, you reluctantly opened your eyes to see your ex-boyfriend Paul and his obnoxious group of friends standing in front of you, snickering and pointing like middle school boys in your general direction at your absolutely flabbergasted face. “You gotta be fucking kidding me…” You muttered under your breath, clenching your jaw and tightening your grip around your beers as the group approached you, pushing Paul front and center, as if you needed it to be any more obvious that his presence had been known. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You snapped, glaring at Paul’s tall and lanky figure, his short blonde hair spiked up in the same way you absolutely hated, cocky grin stretched across his face as he approached you. 

“Damn, nice to see you too, Princess.” Paul laughed, his group of friends joining in and cackling behind, giving each other playful slaps. 

“Don’t fucking call me that.” You growled, giving him a deathly glare, now anxiously bouncing your foot, wondering where Javi was and what was taking him so long. “You didn’t answer my question, asshole.” 

“Calm down, Princess, Jesus. We’re here this weekend for an accounting conference downtown. Work paid for us to fly down today so we figured we’d catch the game since the Hawks were playing tonight. What the hell are you doing here?” Paul crossed his arms, giving you a condescendingly smug smirk, as if you were supposed to be happy to see him. 

“I live here? Remember that thing where you were a complete dickwad and cheated behind my back for 2 years and told me my brother deserved to die so it became incredibly clear to me that there is no one else on the fucking face of this earth I would rather be with less than you? Or is that too much for your idiot brain to remember?”  You were practically snarling at him at this point, nostrils flared and jaw clenched as the angry pit in your stomach grew heavier and heavier each second you looked at Paul. God, where the hell was Javi? 

“Ouch…” One of the guys grimaced behind Paul’s back, the rest of them frowning in agreement, almost impressed by your brashness. “Told you this wasn’t gonna go over well, dude.” Another mumbled, giving Paul a little nudge. 

“Shut the fuck up, Eric.” Paul retorted, rolling his eyes at his friend, trying to save the little dignity you had just spared him. “Okay, okay, point taken. I did some not so great shit, sorry. Don’t need to be such a brat about it.” Holding up his hands in defense, Paul shrugged, giving you the most unapologetic look you had ever seen. “Listen, one of the guys said he saw a hot chick in a Blackhawks jersey, it sparked my attention, turns out it was you. Figured I’d come say hi, let you know you still look real fuckin’ good. See if maybe you wanna go get a drink or something after the game and catch up?” 

You were so heated and filled with rage locked in your sinister staring match with Paul that you hadn’t heard Javi come up behind you, making you flinch and spill some of the beer you had been holding as he quickly grabbed them out of your hands, setting them down on the ground before instinctively wrapping his arm around your waist. Even though you were still fuming, you felt a sense of relief wash over you to see that not only was Javi finally back, but that he had clearly also picked up on the fact that you did not look happy to see whoever had been talking to you. 

“These guys bothering you?” Javi asked, digging his fingertips into your hip, shooting Paul a menacing glare. Before you could say anything to try and explain what the hell was happening, Paul was scoffing at you and Javi, giving you a disgusted look as he pointed at him. 

“Who the fuck is this?” 

“Who the fuck are you?” Javi snapped back, his tone becoming increasingly harsher with the way Paul had responded to his presence. 

“A friend from Chicago-” 

“A friend from Chicago?! Shut the fuck up, Paul.” You groaned, jaw dropping in shock that he had the audacity to try and play it off to Javi like he was an old acquaintance you were happy to run into. “This is my fiancé, asshole.” 

“Fiancé? Yikes, talk about needing a fucking rebound, huh?” Paul laughed, his friends joining in behind him 

“What’s that supposed to mean, motherfucker?” You growled, lunging toward Paul, Javi grabbing you by your waist to keep you from getting any further, pulling you back towards him. The sight of Javi having to physically restrain you from trying to go after him only made Paul laugh harder, shaking his head and letting out a deep, satisfied sigh before speaking again. 

“God, you’re just as much as fucking mess as you were when we broke up, aren’t you? The boys always said I liked ‘em hot and crazy so guess we’re fuckin’ two for two, aren’t we, Princess? Good luck with this one, man. You got your fucking hands full.”  Looking you up and down as you tugged against Javi’s grasp, trying to free yourself, Paul let out one last huff of amusement before beginning to turn around and walk away, only to be stopped by a large hand yanking at the back of his jersey, forcing him to back around to meet Javi’s broad body looming over his. While you were full of rage and on the verge of trying to punch Paul’s teeth in, Javi had let go of his grasp with a look like he was ready to kill as he stepped towards Paul, jaw clenched and fist drawn as his grip on Paul’s jersey shifted from his back to under his neck, the fabric balled tight in his hands as he pulled Paul towards him. 

“Don’t you ever fucking talk about my future wife like that again or I’ll fucking kill you, you understand?” Javi threatened, his voice low and ominous as he drew Paul closer to his face, making sure he heard every word coming through the snarl of his gritted teeth. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

Javi knew you had no problem standing up for yourself. He knew you probably could have taken Paul down yourself if he’d let you go at him. But if there was one thing Javi knew for god damn sure, it was that he wasn’t above beating the shit out of anyone who threatened to even look at you the wrong way, let alone deliberately insult you. Just as well as he knew that, you also knew that Javi wasn’t the type to get in pissing matches with other guys just to assert his dominance. 

But the way he had stormed after Paul with no hesitation, hoisting him up by the collar of his shirt and threatening him with the dangerous rumble looming in his voice had the pounding in your chest quickly fading from anger to arousal at the way Javi’s instincts had gone into overdrive to protect you- and that, that was something you were not expecting to make you as hot and bothered as it was. 

“Jesus, okay man, okay!” Paul moaned, preemptively flinching and wincing his face as Javi leaned in towards him before letting him go and shoving him down, making him stumble as he tried to regain his balance. You would have thought that would have been plenty to get Paul to run off, tail tucked between his legs in embarrassment, but you had forgotten what a wonderfully delightful douchebag your ex was, always needing to get in the last word in any argument just to prove a point. “Fuckin’ have her man. Good fuckin’ riddance, bitch.” 

And just like that, without a second thought, without even a hesitation, hearing Paul mumble that last sentence under his breath was enough to have Javi’s hand balled in a fist, immediately winding up to punch Paul square in the face, instantly knocking him to the cold, hard cement of the arena floor in a sobbing, whimpering heap. 

Taking a step back to shake out his hand and admire the pitiful mess Paul had become, Javi let the slightest smirk slide across his face before immediately turning back to you, gently cupping your face, melting you with his sweet brown eyes filled with concern- A stark contrast from his stone cold demeanor only moments ago. “Are you okay, Hermosa?” 

“Are you okay? Javi… holy shit.” Grabbing Javi’s hand from the side of your face, pulling it down to examine his red knuckles, you darted your eyes back and forth between him and Paul, still writhing on the ground, blood dripping down his nose. You couldn’t help but feel your eyes go wide, butterflies swirling in your stomach as a tiny grin curled between your lips looking down at what Javi had done to your ex. You had never seen Javi get aggressive like this, and despite everything you’d ever thought about not needing a man to come swoop in and save you, it was taking everything in you not to pounce on him right then and there by how turned on you were by the fact he had just easily decked Paul to the ground in your defense. 

“Fuck you, motherfucker, I think you broke my nose!” Paul whimpered, wiping away blood with the back of his hand, trying to press himself back up to stand. “Security!” 

“Don’t even bother. We’re leaving. Fuck you too, Paul.” You scoffed, grabbing Javi’s hand as you tugged him away, proudly flipping Paul off as you passed by, pushing your way through the small audience that had formed around you from your tussle, several people giving you and Javi silent nods of approval after watching what had happened. Once you had dragged Javi far enough away, he paused, stopping in his tracks, forcing you to turn back towards him. 

“Osita. Baby, fuck, I’m so sorry. I don’t want us to have to leave because of me, we came all this way to watch the game and I, fuck- I don’t- I don’t know what got into me, but there was no way I was gonna fucking let him talk to you like that, I-” 

“Javi. That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. I don’t care if the Blackhawks win, I don’t care if they lose, I don’t care if we get blown out 75-0, if you don’t take me back to our hotel room and fuck me right now, I’m gonna lose my goddamn mind.” Taking a few steps back where Javi had froze, you placed your hands on his chest, grabbing two big fist fulls of his jersey before pressing up on your tiptoes to plant a hot, wet kiss on his lips, biting down on your lip and raising an eyebrow at him as you pulled back. 

“Fuck, okay. Hermosa, are you sure?” Javi smirked, gently brushing away a stray piece of hair from your face, resting his hand around your jaw. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so sure of anything. Take me back to our room and fuck the shit out of me, Javier Peña.”

It was then Javi’s turn to drag you off through the arena, immediately grabbing your hand and working through the crowd, practically running back to your hotel, your limbs immediately intertangling the moment you found yourselves alone in the elevator. Your hands ran along each other’s bodies, your kisses frantic and desperate down the empty hallway to your room, Javi barely able to pull away for long enough to tug his room key out of his pocket. Your back was pressed against the door, trapped under Javi’s body towering over you as he finally was able to slide the card in the door, the pressure of your weight pushing against it forcing it open as it unlocked. 

Your hands roamed needily as your mouths met with an electric intensity, stumbling towards the bed with faltering steps before your back hit the plush mattress, Javi leaning over you with hands planted on either side of your head, his kisses now trailing from your lips to your neck, sucking and nipping at your pulse point as his hands slid under your shirt, palming at your bra and digging his fingertips into your soft flesh. Your hands began to roam too, traveling from the tight grip they had around Javi’s jersey as you pulled him closer to you towards his jeans, reaching out to tug at the denim waistband before feeling Javi’s grip wrap around your wrist, pulling both hands above your head and pinning them to the mattress under the width of his broad grasp. 

“Nuh uh, Hermosa.” Javi tutted, a devilish smirk growing across his face as his eyes darkened, squeezing your wrists in his hand, arms still raised over you. He dipped his head down, placing slow, tender kisses along your collarbone before working his way up your neck and jaw, catching the breaths of your moans in his mouth as his lips pressed against yours. “You’re gonna be a good girl and let me make you cum as many times as I want first, understand? This pussy’s all fucking mine.” 

Oh fuck. 

You could feel your stomach swirl with arousal from the growl in Javi’s voice, his words sending a shiver down your spine, eyes wide as you quietly nodded in agreement. Javi was a lot of things when the two of you fucked- tender, attentive, god, even when you wanted him to be rough with you, you could tell there was a part of him that always held back, because the thought of ever doing something that would come even close to hurting you was something he would never do. But the tone of his voice was something that you had never heard from him before- it was demanding, possessive, and holy fuck did it turn you on way more than you would have ever expected it to. 

Barely getting out any coherent verbal response to coincide with your head shaking in compliance, Javi let go of your wrists, standing back up, his body hovering over yours at the edge of the bed. “Good girl. Take your clothes off, baby.” Javi rasped, taking a step back to watch as you sat up, quickly pulling off your jersey and crewneck underneath before working your way down to your jeans, shuffling them down your legs and kicking them off your feet, leaving you in your bra and underwear, frantically trying to shed them too before Javi stopped you again, tilting your chin up towards him as his thumb traced along your jawline. He looked you up and down, his smirk widening across his face at the cute matching bra and panty set you had worn, knowing it was one of his favorites and that he’d enjoy your little surprise. “You wear this for me, Hermosa?” Javi asked, his thumb now gently dragging down your bottom lip as he bit down on his own. 

“Mhmmmm.” You grinned, giving him a little wink, scooting yourself closer towards the edge of the bed to try and grab at his jersey and pull him close enough to work your hands under and run them along his stomach, sneaking them down to unbutton his jeans. You had only outstretched your arms halfway before his hand was around your wrist again, shaking his head in a playful disapproval. 

“So needy. What did I say, baby? Not until I say so, remember? Needy girls still have to be patient, don’t they?” Dropping your wrist, Javi turned around, taking a few steps back before bending down to unzip his suitcase by the end of the bed, shuffling around through his clothes before pulling out the blue and gold tie you had gotten him for his birthday and had worn to work earlier this morning. You cocked your head to the side as you watched him rummage through his clothes, your face still slightly confused when the only thing he pulled out was his tie, until your brain quickly put two and two together. “Maybe this will help you remember. Give me your hands.” Javi paused for a moment, his demeanor shifting back to the sweet and soft man you usually got in the bedroom, his puppy dog eyes staring at you for approval as he quietly mouthed “Is this okay?” to you as he ran his hand up and down the length of his tie. Fuck, did you love this man. 

Your jaw hung open in delighted shock, his suggestion going straight to your pussy, your underwear already soaked from the thought of what he was about to do. Feverishly, you nodded, sticking out your hands, wrists pressed together in front of you for Javi, smirking up at him with heavy lashes. 

“If it’s too much, or you want me to stop, just-” 

“I know. Do your worst, Peña.” 

With that, Javi’s sweet facade quickly shifted, taking the silky fabric of his tie and knotting it around your wrists, making sure to leave enough room to keep you comfortable as he wrapped his hands around your hips, picking you up to scoot you further back on the bed, caging his body over yours. He palmed at your bra, freeing your breast to roll your pebbled nipples between his fingers, the sensation making you writhe and moan beneath him, and he hadn’t even touched anything below your waist. 

“So fucking pretty. Wearing this just for me, knowing I’m the only one who gets to see you like this, that no other man gets to have you like I have you.” His words were hot and heavy against your skin, making your breath hitch as his hand slid down your soft skin, snaking under the waistband of your underwear and running two fingers through your folds, dripping with your arousal. “Knowing that I’m the only one who makes you wet like this. Why is that, sweet girl? Whose pussy is this?” Javi mewled, dragging his fingers along your slit, collecting the slick pooling between your legs, watching you squirm under his touch. 

“It’s yours Javi. Fuck- Fuck baby, it’s all yours.” You whined as Javi’s now soaked fingers snuck out of your panties, bringing them to your mouth. 

“Suck.” He grinned, watching you open your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tangy taste lingering on his digits. “That’s right it is. All mine, forever.” Pulling his hand back, he replaced it with his mouth, crashing into you, his tongue swiping along your bottom lip with a passionate ferocity before sliding down your body, bringing himself face to face with the delicate lace covering your dripping heat. Hooking his fingers around the waistband, he slid your underwear down your legs, gently kissing around your thighs, already fighting against the silky fabric tied around your wrists, trying to reach down to tug the dark curls of his hair and pull him closer to you. His kisses traveled closer and closer to your core, his nose barely brushing your clit, making you moan. 

“Javi… Baby, please.” You whined, wiggling your bottom half against the cool, crisp sheets, needing for Javi to touch you, taste you, do something besides tease you like this. 

“Please what, Osita? Words, baby.” Javi smirked, slowly inching his way towards your center, wrapping his arms around your legs, gripping them in place. 

“Touch me, eat me out, fuck me, anything, fuck- please, please, I-” 

Before you could plead anymore, you gasped, feeling the broad stroke of Javi’s firm tongue pressing against your throbbing clit, finally easing some of the ache of how worked up you had been since the moment you had watched him knock Paul to the ground. Unlike just moments ago, Javi began lapping you up like a man starved, feverishly flicking his tongue along your sensitive bundle of nerves, the pattern of his movements making you buck your hips towards his face, fighting against his strong arms holding you in place. 

Latching his lips, he sucked at your clit, the newfound sensation making the tingle at the base of your spine already begin to grow, the inside of your thighs covered with the shiny slick of your arousal and Javi’s saliva as he worked ferociously at your heat. Your whimpers and groans became more and more labored, an all too familiar creeping sensation sliding up your legs and building in your belly with each movement of his mouth. Your heart began to pound and vision started to blur, arms tugging at the tie placed around your wrists as you felt your orgasm form.

“Oh fuck, fuck Javi. Right there baby, holy shit- fuck, I’m so close, I- I- Wa- wait, wait, what?” Only moments away from feeling pleasure rush though your body, you were left breathless and shocked to feel Javi jerk his mouth away, looking up at you with lust filled eyes and a satisfied grin, opposed to your confusion. “Javi, what? Baby, I was about to-” 

“You don’t cum until I say so. Be a good girl and ask nicely and maybe I’ll let you. Try again.” Javi replied, cocking his head and raising an eyebrow at you, smug smirk still stretched across his face. 

You could almost hear the gulp traveling down your throat as your jaw hung open, your breathing heavy and low, watching Javi watch you, patiently waiting for you to follow his request. “Please let me cum, Javi. Please baby, please, I need you to make me cum so badly.” 

“That’s more like it.” 

Diving back between your legs, Javi drank you up, his tongue quickly accompanied by two of his thick fingers, easily pushing into your entrance and bumping the soft, spongy spot inside you. You could feel your pussy begin to flutter, already so close before Javi had left you on edge, now finding yourself even closer with his fingers curled deliciously in your hilt. Again, the coil in your belly began to tighten, Javi’s fingertips digging into the soft flesh of your thighs, holding you down on the bed. 

“Fuck, Javi. Don’t stop. Please, baby, please- shit- please let me cum, I’m so close, I’m so clo-ahhhhhhh.” Relief and euphoria flooded through your veins as your orgasm crashed over you, expletives and Javi’s name rolling off your tongue as you reached your high. But instead of letting you come back down, Javi’s mouth stayed pressed against your cunt, his hand still thrusting in and out of your heat as you clenched around his fingers, now realizing he wasn’t about to ease up any time soon. 

You could feel your legs trembling as Javi relentlessly licked and sucked, his fingers fucking into at an unforgiving pace, making your moans and whimpers even louder as squirmed, desprate to grab on to something while your hands fought against the buttery softness of his tie wrapped around your wrists. Already so worked up, it didn’t take you long to feel your second orgasm building, making you cum even harder than you had just moments ago, crying out as you gushed again around Javi’s fingers, the sweet sensation almost becoming too much with how feverishly he had been working to make you cum again. Finally, Javi detached his mouth, his chin and mustache glistening with your slick, a sly smile and lustful look in his eyes as his fingers stayed curled in your cunt, the lewd noises of your wetness coating the walls as he pushed against your g-spot. Your breath hitched, legs shaking as held you down with his free arm, draped across your stomach while you writhed under him. 

“Baby, it’s so much, fuck- I don’t think I can cum again, please, I-” 

“First you're begging me to let you cum, now you want me to stop? Don’t get to have it both ways, Osita.” Javi tutted, only intensifying the pace of his fingers curling inside you. “I’m making you cum as many times as I want, remember? You’re gonna give me one more on my fingers and then that pretty little pussy is gonna soak my cock while I fuck you, okay?” You were so worked up you could barely think straight, your clit still throbbing and cunt clenching around Javi’s hand, mind going blank as he hit the spot inside you that had you seeing stars. “Answer me, baby. Tell me what you’re gonna do?” 

It took every ounce of brain power to try and find any way to respond, your head nodding frantically while you babbled. “I’m gonna cum again, please, please I will.” 

“That’s my good girl. God, you’re so fucking tight. Give me one more baby, I know you can. I can feel how close you are.” With only the lightest press of his thumb on your clit, you could feel yourself on the edge again, only needing a few more thrusts of his fingers before you were crying out again, tears welling in your eyes from how hard you came, every inch of your body feeling spent as Javi finally pulled out his hand, absolutely drenched in your arousal, bringing it to his mouth and sucking the juices clean, pridefully watching you sprawled out and spent on the bed. “Tastes so fucking sweet. Did so good for me, Hermosa.” He mewled, coming up to kiss you, the tangy taste of your arousal still lingering on his lips. “Bet that fucking asshole Paul could ever make you cum like that, huh? No one else gets to make you feel this good, isn’t that right, baby?” 

“Jesus Christ, no. No one’s ever made me feel like you do. You make me feel so good, Javi.” Javi’s mouth caught your moans in his as he pinned your tied arms above your head, nipping at your neck as he used his free hand to begin to work at his jeans, quickly unbuckling his belt and shuffling his pants and boxers down his legs. 

“Bet none of them could ever fuck you like I do either. Only your future husband gets to have you like this.” Javi freed his other hand, reaching over his back to tug his jersey over his head, leaving him just as bare as you. Grabbing your hips, Javi lifted you up, turning you over so your stomach lay flat on the bed with your arms splayed in front of you, guiding your lower half so you were on your knees, ass up on display for him. His hands kneaded at the soft flesh before reaching down to guide the tip of his painfully hard cock through your folds, collecting your slick as he lined himself up with your entrance. “Only one who gets to see that pretty pussy dripping just for me.” He smirked, headfully pushing his length deep inside your cunt, his tip kissing your cervix as he bottomed out, digging his fingertips into your hips as he pulled you back towards him, the stretch and fullness making you whimper. “Only one who gets to fill you up like this.” Slowly pulling back, he watched the shine of your arousal covering his cock before slamming back into you, repeating his methodical strokes. “Only one who gets to fuck a baby into you.” He grinned, his pace now quickening, planting a smack of his hand against your ass cheek, massaging the red mark it had left. You whined into the pillow, very much loud enough for Javi to hear, knowing damn well he had a way with words that made you lose your mind. “Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Hermosa? Getting you pregnant, carrying our baby so everyone knows you’re fucking mine?” 

“Yes, oh my god, fuck- yes.”

Javi was now pounding into you, his pace relentless as his length punched deep in your hilt, the angle he was fucking you letting you feel every inch of him splitting you open. Even with how full you felt, you couldn’t help but press your ass back into him, needing to feel all of him inside you. Reaching an arm underneath you, he thumbed at your clit, rubbing back and forth as his thrusts became more frantic and sloppy, knowing he wasn’t going to last much longer. You could feel your cunt beginning to clench around his cock, fisting at the bedsheets in front of you, desperate to grip at something while your hands were bound. 

“I know you’re close, Hermosa. Let go, baby. Cum all over cock before I fuck myself so deep inside you and fill you full of me.” You could feel your heart begin to race again, your vision going white with each frantic thrust, the coil in your belly tightening further and further, the sounds falling from your mouth almost borderline pornagraphic. For the fourth time tonight, the tingling in your legs and stomach had built to a breaking point, feeling your orgasm crash through you like a tidal wave, cumming so hard it felt like your soul was leaving your body. Knowing you had reached your high, Javi found himself chasing his own, each thrust more frantic than the last, his thighs slapping against your ass relentlessly as his words fell incoherently from his lips. 

“That’s it, sweet girl. Fuck, I’m close too. Mierda- God, you’re so fucking perfect. Tu eres mio para siempre. Mi amor, mi vida, fuck, te amo más de lo que las palabras pueden decir. (You’re mine forever. My love, my life, fuck, I love you more than words can say). Jesus, fuck- Oh fuck, Osita, fuck, I’m gonna cum too, I-” With a loud groan, Javi came deep inside you, spilling every last drop, coating your warm walls with his spend. Even after he had finished, Javi stayed buried in your cunt, watching the mix of your spend drip down your legs before slumping into you, his chest resting on your back as you melted into the mattress beneath him. The two of you laid there for a moment, your breaths rising and falling in sync, finally breaking the ragged silence with a little laugh to yourself, causing Javi to finally pull out so he could get a better look at you. “What’s so funny, Hermosa?” Javi chuckled, watching you roll over onto your back, revealing the blissed out grin stretched across your face. 

“Javi… that was so fucking hot. Holy fuck. Where the hell did that come from?” You giggled, playfully poking at him as he laid down next to you, reaching over to untie your hands and pull you in to rest your head on his bare chest. 

“It was okay? I don’t- I don’t know, I knew you told me Paul was a piece of shit, but seeing him treat you like that-It just set something off in me, I guess.” Javi sighed, almost reluctantly, gently stroking the ends of your hair as he held you, feeling a little embarrassed at how possessive he had gotten, knowing the perfectly capable and independent woman you were. 

“Was it okay? Javi, I never want to see Paul again, ever in my fucking life. That being said, if I get to watch you sock him in the face and then have you fuck me like that…” Your voice trailed, sarcastically snickering, giving Javi a little nudge as the two of you laughed. “You’ve done a lot of very hot things since I’ve met you, Javier Peña, but I do think knocking Paul out without hesitation is pretty high on the list. I am a little sad I didn’t get a swing in, but we’ll call it good.” 

“He fucking deserved it. No one gets to talk to you like that, ever. I know you don’t need me to protect you, and that you can handle things on your own, but I-” 

“Baby, I know that you know. I appreciate you saying that. It doesn’t change the fact that watching you get all protective over me was really fucking hot.” You smirked, pressing you hand against his chest to push yourself up, meeting your lips with his, running your hands through the dark curls at the nape of his neck. “And also…” Your grin grew wider as you reached down on the bed, picking up Javi’s tie, gently swinging it in your hands, “looks like we’re gonna have to get you some more ties, huh?” 

The two of you woke up the next morning, bodies intertwined together between the crisp hotel sheets, soft sunlight spilling into your window over the Dallas skyline. From the first night he had slept in your bed, you had come to learn there were few things in this world that you loved more than being wrapped in Javi’s arms, your sleepy bodies still warm and lazy as you curled closer between the sheets, feeling like there was no one else in that moment that existed besides the two of you. 

While you and Javi had plenty of lazy mornings together, something about being away for the weekend had both of you relishing in the syrupy slowness of your Saturday morning- sweet and soft sex tangled between your sheets, a long, hot shower where Javi insisted on letting you relax while he washed your hair, followed by curling up in the obnoxiously fluffy hotel robes while the two of you dried off, watching Sports Center and planning out the rest of your day. 

You had decided to spend your afternoon exploring downtown, starting off at a sandwich shop near your hotel, and while both of you agreed that your sandwiches were good, they were no Alejandro’s. You spent some time after at the Dallas Museum of Art, with equal time spent with you making sarcastic commentary about some of the more interesting paintings and sculptures, trying your best to make Javi laugh, and Javi admiring you admire the various pieces of art, thinking to himself that you were more beautiful than any picture or statue he could find inside.

After your tour through the museum, you and Javi meandered through some of the stores downtown, both of your favorites being the pastry shop with the most delicious cupcakes you had ever tasted in your entire life, and although you insisted you didn’t need to get any extras, Javi knew you well enough to know that you were going to want one later, and ordered two more to take back with you to the hotel. 

Since last night’s dinner had been more causal to try and make sure you got to the game on time, you had agreed to pick somewhere nicer to try for dinner tonight and then go out to a bar or two after for some drinks. While you were already enough of a chronic overpacker, trying to decide on an outfit for tonight had taken up the majority of the real estate in your suitcase, your options now spread out across the bed as you stood wrapped in your towel post-shower, contemplating what to wear. 

“You’ll look beautiful in anything, Hermosa.” Javi chuckled, standing behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist, back pressed his chest as he rested his chin on your shoulder. 

“You’re sweet, Jav. I don’t know, I don’t wanna be too casual, but I don’t want to be too dressy either, can you just pick for me?” You sighed, gesturing to the variety of clothes piled on the mattress. 

“You sure you want me to pick?” Javi grinned, placing a soft kiss on the bare skin of your shoulder, giving you a little squeeze. 

“Yes, I’m sure, but I’m already 99.9% sure I know which one you’re gonna choose.” You giggled, crossing your arms over your chest as Javi made his way towards the bed, looking through his choices before he picked up a strappy, mid length black dress, raising an eyebrow at you and passing it off in your direction with a boyish smirk on his face. “Vegas wins again, Peña.” Outstretching your arm, you took the dress from his hands, playfully rolling your eyes at your correct prediction. 

“What, like you can blame me? You can pick out what I wear too, if you want. I’m gonna hop in the shower while you get ready and I’ll be out in a few.” Javi smiled, peppering ticklish kisses along your neck and collarbone, making you squeal and squirm to not even notice Javi’s hand reaching up to tug at your towel, making it drop to the floor and leaving you naked. 

“JAVI!” You shouted, watching Javi shrug his shoulders in satisfaction, giving you a wink as he headed into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. You shook your head, laughing to yourself as you threw the dress back on the bed, collecting your rejected outfits and tossing them back in your suitcase. You looked back over your shoulder, making sure the door was closed before pulling out the lingerie Javi had gotten you for Christmas that had been hidden underneath the rest of your clothes, quickly slipping it on to wear under your dress to surprise Javi with later. You shuffled on the dress that Javi had picked, giving yourself a onceover in the mirror before getting out the rest of your toiletries and makeup to finish getting ready. 

You had finished with your makeup by the time Javi had gotten out of the shower, finding yourself in the middle of curling your hair as Javi stepped out of the bathroom, wrapping a white, fluffy towel around his waist, stopping in his tracks as soon as he saw you. “Fuck me…” He whispered under his breath, still just loud enough for you to hear him and turn your head in his direction, blushing over the awestruck look on his face. “Jesus Christ, baby. Fuck, you’re so hot. I’m a lucky fucking man, god damn.” Javi smirked, sitting on the edge of the bed, watching you like a puppy with his chin resting in his hand. 

“Well, someone did a good job picking out the outfit.” You giggled, biting down on your lip at his reflection in the mirror. “I picked out some stuff if you want to wear any of it.” You nodded over to the other side of the bed, where you had set out a dark wash pair of jeans and a black long sleeved button up shirt. 

“Or…” Javi grinned, pushing himself off the edge of the bed to stand, grabbing a handful of your ass and resting his hands on your hips, “You can take your dress off and then we can both put clothes back on later.”

“Your offer is very tempting, but you made reservations for 7:30 and it’s 7:05, mister.” You sighed, turning around to face him, playfully poking his chest. “Believe me, there will be plenty of undressing when we get back. Now go get changed, ya goof.” 

Somehow, the two of you both managed to have enough willpower to make it to your dinner reservation on time, you finding yourself to be just as bad as Javi after watching him put on the outfit you’d chosen. While the two of you knew the restaurant was much nicer than the one you had picked yesterday for dinner, you didn’t realize it was going to be this nice. Not that Laredo didn't have suitable restaurants, but to say they had anything fancy was a bit of a stretch, and to say they had anything this fancy would have been an outright lie. The restaurant was dimly lit, decorated with contemporary fixtures, soft music playing in the background, the waitstaff even dressed to the nines as you approached the hostess at the front booth. 

“Hi, we should have a reservation for 2 at 7:30. Should be under Peña.” Javi smiled resting his hand on the small of your back under your jacket as the two watched the girl flip through her notebook looking for Javi’s name. 

“Perfect, I have you right here. Right this way, Mr. and Mrs. Peña.” She grinned, grabbing two menus and leading you through the restaurant. The grip of Javi’s hand on your back as you followed the hostess to your seats only tightened, hearing her accidental slip up. “Alright, we have you two sitting right here, and your waiter will be with you shortly!” Gesturing over to your table, your hostess set down the menus and was on her way, leaving Javi to immediately pull out your chair for you before setting into his. 

“Thanks, Mr. Peña.” You giggled, gently tapping his leg with your foot under the table. “We’re two for two this weekend with strangers assuming we’re married. Not that I’m mad about it.” 

“I feel like we are. I don’t know, I think of you as my wife already, I guess. I accidentally called you my wife at work the other week and the guys thought we got married without everyone knowing.” Javi shrugged, reaching across the table to grab your hand, gently rubbing his thumb over the ring on your hand. 

“We’ll call that one a happy accident. I think of you as my husband too, I don’t know, it kind of feels like we’re married, I guess it’s just a formality at this point. Only 4 more months.” You beamed, giving his hand a little squeeze before letting go to lift up the menu in front of you, your jaw dropping in shock as you read through the options. “Okay, I knew this place was gonna be nice, but 45 dollars for salmon? 60 for steak? Are they covered in gold dust and unicorn tears? I am many things, Javier Peña, but I am not worth a 60 dollar steak, let me tell you that.” You grimaced, now looking through the drink section, mumbling to yourself. “God, do they even have beer here?” Javi laughed, shaking his head as he picked up his own menu, browsing through his options. 

“Shut up, you dork. You’re more than worth a 60 dollar steak. Don’t worry about it, okay? You deserve to be taken to nice places like this, whether you agree with me or not. But my guess is no, that they are probably not serving Miller Lite here.” 

Despite your sticker shock for food prices, you and Javi had a great rest of your dinner, chatting about wedding and house planning, favorite things about your trip so far, and somehow ending in an argument about the best Star Wars movie after the two of you had a few drinks each in you. Knowing you wanted to go out to a bar or two after dinner, but having no idea where to go, you asked the waitress for her suggestions at favorite places, recommending a bar a block down the street, telling you it was one of the most popular places downtown at the moment. Given her rave review, you and Javi decided to give it a try, tipsily making your way down the street, still continuing your Star Wars argument the entire trip there. 

As you entered the bar, you were greeted with the overwhelming sound of loud, upbeat music blasting through the speakers on the dance floor and bright, flashing lights dancing above the crowd in the dark and packed room. “I guess she wasn’t kidding when she said this place was popular.” You half yelled in Javi’s ear, gesturing out to the crowd in front of you, neither of you realizing the atmosphere of the bar was a bit more club-like than either of you had expected. “I don’t think I’ve been to a place like this since college.” 

Javi’s grip tightened around your waist as several patrons brushed past you, drunkenly shouting along to the song playing over your voices. “We can go somewhere else if you want to, we don’t have to stay here, Hermosa.” 

“I don’t know, it looks like it could be fun. Looks like there’s a lot of people dancing,” you smirked, pointing over to the dance floor, “you really gonna pass up a chance to grind on me in public, Jav? I sure hope that answer isn’t no.” Taking a step back, you subtly pressed your ass into Javi’s crotch, making him let out a quiet groan before pulling away, turning around to face toward him and give him a little shrug. 

“Fuck me…” Javi muttered under his breath, an equally intrigued smirk spreading across his face as he looked down at you. “No way in hell I’m gonna say no to that, Hermosa.” 

“Then get a girl a drink and take me dancing, Peña.” Grabbing Javi’s hand, you tugged him towards the bar, following eagerly behind you through the crowd. Javi ordered both your drinks from one of the bartenders- a woman who seemed to spend a little to long for your liking touching Javi’s arm to get his attention when his whiskey and your gin and tonic were ready, flashing him a cute smile as Javi handed over the cash from his wallet to pay for your drinks. If you were any taller and able to see over the heads of the people standing in front of you at the bar, you really hoped she would have seen the scowl drawn across your face as you watched her try to flirt with Javi. Javi, seemingly oblivious to the interaction, handed your drink off to you as the two of you made your way to an empty booth on the side of the dance floor, taking a hefty sip before looking back up at Javi. “She seemed nice.” You grimaced, nodding back over towards the bar. Javi laughed, taking a sip of his own drink before setting it down on the table, raising an eyebrow at you. 

“Is someone jealous?” 

“No… She was just giving you the eyes, and held your arm way longer than I’m sure the average bartender does. I mean, she’s got good taste…” You grumbled, trying your best not to glare back over at the bar. Downing the rest of his drink in a large gulp, he slid his empty drink to the side, reaching out to grab your hand, squeezing it in his. He bit down on his lip, a lustful look pooling in his eyes as he watched you take another sip. 

“Why don’t you finish your drink and we’ll go give her something to be jealous of, hm?” 

Your eyes went wide at his response, slurping down the rest of your gin and tonic way faster than you probably should have before setting your empty cup next to his, walking around to the opposite side of the booth where Javi sat, grabbing two fist fulls of his shirt while you pulled him in for a long, tender kiss. “I like the sound of that.” 

Intertwining hands, you worked your way out to the dance floor, tangled between humid, hot bodies and the thumping of the bass to whatever upbeat pop song was blasting in the background in time with the flashing colorful lights beaming across the crowd. From the moment you found yourself deep enough in the mix of people, Javi’s hands were instantly all over you, working their way down your sides and landing on your hips, digging his fingertips into the fabric of your dress to turn you around so your ass was pressed against his jeans, grinding into the denim. At this point, the both of you had enough alcohol in your systems to not be concerned about anyone else around you, your hips rocking to the rhythm of the music, pressing your ass further into Javi’s crotch with each sway, only forcing his grip to tighten, feeling his bulge beginning to grow in his pants. Playing into the sensation building between both of you, you brought one of your arms up, reaching up to grab the hair at the nape of Javi’s neck, his curls feeling more defined from the sweat radiating off the dance floor. You could feel his head buried in your shoulder, feeling his hot breath against the sheen of your skin. 

“Jesus, you’re so fucking sexy, Osita. Feel what you do to me, baby? Bet if I reached down and felt that pretty little pussy she’d be dripping for me, too.” Javi rasped, letting his hands slide down your hips towards the front of your thighs. You weren’t sure what had gotten into you that had lowered your inhibitions so much- maybe it was the one too many gin and tonics, maybe it was the heat of the crowd moving to the music, maybe it was feeling how hard Javi was pressed against your ass just from dancing. Whatever it was, it was enough to have you turning around, throwing your arms around Javi’s shoulders, pressing up on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. 

“Touch me and find out.” 

Your preposition had Javi’s jaw practically dropping to the floor, taking a moment to compose himself before looking back down at you to make sure he hadn’t misheard what you had said, but the lustful grin between your cheeks was all he needed to know he had heard you loud and clear. With one hand on your ass, the other snaked between your bodies, tugging up the hem of your dress, his palm gliding across the soft skin of your inner thighs before cupping your pussy, wetness pooling in the lacy fabric of your underwear, making his eyes grow even wider, not only from how wet you were, but from the feeling of his fingers grazing over your panties, knowing the texture meant you were wearing something out of the usual rotation, something you’d worn on purpose to get his attention. 

“Fucking soaked, sweet girl. Gonna let me take you back to our room and let me ruin those pretty panties even more? What’re you wearing under there, baby?” 

“Why don’t you take me back and see.” 

Yesterday, you were convinced you couldn’t have walked any faster back to your hotel room after the hockey game, but the pace at which you and Javi were speeding down the sidewalk had you questioning if your speed could even qualify as walking, not sprinting. Unlike your luck yesterday, you shared your elevator ride back up to your room with 2 other strangers, making the tension of your trip up to your floor almost palpable as you used every ounce of restraint from pouncing on Javi right there in the elevator. 

As soon as the door sprung open and no one was behind you, the two of you crashed down the hallway, once again fumbling with to find your room key, the added element of your tipsiness only making it more difficult. One way or another, your door unlocked, your bodies dancing in a tangled mess towards the bed, pausing for a moment as Javi’s open suitcase caught your attention out of the corner of your eye. Your brain spun for a moment, reeling with the memories of last night, a looming question now racing in your mind as you spotted Javi’s blue and gold tie peeking out of his bag. 

Would Javi let you tie him up?  

“You okay, Hermosa?” Javi asked, cocking his head in confusion as he watched you stare at his suitcase. You could see the wheels in his head turning, a lightbulb going off after a few moments, grabbing your chin and tilting it up towards him. “You want me to tie you up again, sweet girl?” He smirked, his voice low and gruff as he gripped around your jaw. Gently, you began shaking your head, Javi’s face immediately dropping in confusion, letting go of his grasp. 

“What if I told you…” You paused, grabbing his shirt and walking towards the bed, “I wanted to tell you what to do. See if you can be a good boy for me or maybe I’ll have to tie you up, too.” Giving Javi a little nudge, you pushed him to sit down on the bed, leaving you standing in front of him, rubbing your hands up and down the denim covering his thighs, watching your words go straight to his cock as his bulge strained against the zipper of his jeans, and a breathy moan escaped out of his mouth. Javi’s eyes went wide, jaw agape as his tongue darted out between his lips as you threw your leg over his lap, straddling his hips.

 “Is that okay?” You whispered, nipping at his ear, making him let out a low groan. He nodded softly in silent reassurance, almost too stunned to speak, slowly working his hands up your ass and thighs, trying to push up the hem of your dress. Grabbing his wrists, you stopped him in his tracks, pulling back slightly with a playfully scolding look on your face. “Nuh uh. I didn’t get to touch last time, you don’t get to touch me until I say.” 

“Fuck me…” Javi whispered under his breath, carefully drawing his hands back to rest on the edge of the bed, his eyes desperately filling with need and want. Reaching down, you tugged your dress over your head, revealing the cute, red and lacy lingerie set Javi had gotten you for Christmas. As if Javi’s jaw couldn’t have dropped any further, it was now practically through the floor, finding himself absolutely gawking at you in admiration. “Holy fuck.” Javi gulped, trying his best to keep any ounce of composure he still had. He couldn’t help but spring his hands towards you, running them up and down your sides and over the delicate fabric, left with utter shock and disappointment as you swung off his lap, standing at the edge of the bed with your arms crossed over your chest. 

“What did I just say, baby? Only good boys get to touch, remember?” A devilish smirk spread across your lips watching how flustered Javi had already become, biting down on his finger to try and relieve some of the tension of not being able to touch you. 

“I’ll be good, baby. I promise.” He groaned helplessly, staring up at you with pleading eyes. 

“I don’t know, Javi, seems like you’re having a hard time with pretty simple instructions.” You tutted, very purposefully bending down with your ass in his face to pick up the tie dangling from his suitcase. “Guess we’ll try one more time to see if you remember, but if you can’t, maybe this will help.” 

“You’re gonna fucking kill me, you know that?” Javi rasped, shaking his head, running his hand over his face. 

“You’re a big boy, you’ll be okay.” You winked, tossing his tie next to him before going back to straddling his lap, running your hands up and down his chest, slowly working your way down his shirt, one button at a time, planting a hot kiss on his skin with each new button that came undone. “Promise you’re gonna be good?” You smirked, tugging the shirt off his arms and letting it fall on the bed. 

“Promise.” He sighed, voice trembling, feeling the muscles in his body tense with your question. 

“Good.” You began grinding your hips in his, circling slowly over his painfully hard bulge, digging deeper and deeper with each sway of your hips. You slid your hands up his chest, into his hair, gently tugging at his dark curls as you rocked against him. You could tell how hard Javi was trying to control himself, breathing heavily and clenching his jaw as he watched you, the moans escaping from his mouth only becoming louder as you turned around, back pressed to his chest, sitting in his lap. You continued grinding your ass into Javi’s crotch, gently tugging at the straps of your bra and letting them fall from your shoulders, teasing him even further. Slipping your hands behind your back, you unclasped the hooks holding your top together, letting it drop to the floor in front of you, leaving Javi still only able to see your bare back knowing how crazy it would drive him that he couldn’t even see what he was missing, let alone touch. Still facing away, you bent down, sticking your ass towards his face, slowly shimmying the lacy red thong down your legs and letting it pool around your ankles. That was what broke him, his fingers digging into the plump skin making you shoot up and turn back around towards him.

 Reaching next to him on the bed, you picked up his tie in one hand, grabbing his wrists with the other, and gently began wrapping the buttery fabric around him. “So much for that, huh? Naughty boys have to learn to follow the rules, don’t they, baby?” You playfully pouted, batting your eyes at him. Good thing I can help teach you, hmmm?” With his hands sufficiently tied, you took your finger, poking his chest and pushing him over, gesturing for him to shuffle further up on to the bed, now laying flat on his back with his hands above his head. 

“Osita, please, baby, fuck- please.” Javi whined, his voice ragged and wanting as his brown eyes met with yours, watching you crawl up over him, your hands now working at his belt buckle. The metal clinked as you pushed his jeans down his hips before ever so gently tugging at the waistband of his boxers, already tented from his stiffness. 

“Please, what, sweet boy?” You cooed, pulling just enough to let his cock spring free, revealing how painfully hard he was, his tip dark red and leaking with precum that had stained his boxers. “God, you’ve got the most beautiful dick I’ve ever seen.” You mewled, barely grazing your fingertips over his bare thighs, making him shutter. 

“Osita, please. Please, baby. I need you to touch me, please.” Javi whimpered as you settled yourself on top of his legs, your hands now creeping towards his shaft. 

“That’s better. So handsome when you beg. Need me to take care of you? I’ll take care of you, baby.” You wrapped your hand around his cock, thumbing at the precum dripping out of his tip and rubbing it around his head before taking the same hand and running it through your folds, collecting the slick that had been rapidly pooling between your legs and using the mixture to stroke him. 

With a few pumps of your hand, you leaned over, letting the spit from your mouth drip down over his dick before bending your head down and letting your tongue graze his head. Your lips sucked around his tip, lazily working your way down his length, taking him inch by inch as you hollowed out your cheeks, nestling your nose in the curls of his hairs at his base, the musky scent of him filling your nose. You began bobbing your head, your mouth engulfing him with each rise and fall, looking up at him through heavy lashes, your eyes almost as wide as his as you watched him crumble under your touch. 

“Fuck, oh shit- Oh my god. Fuck, that feels so good baby, Jesus- fuck me.” Javi squeezed his eyes shut, his ramblings becoming more ragged and desperate with each word, almost embarrassed at how quickly he found himself feeling like he was going to fall apart. You could feel his cock beginning to pulse in the warmth of your mouth, only making you pick up your pace, feeling the saliva drool down the corners of your cheeks and tears welling in the corners of your eyes. “Fuck, baby, fuck, fuck- I’m close, I’m clo- wa- wait, fuck. Fuck, baby, no. Please.” Javi whined, his head popping up to look at you, your mouth hovering above his dick with a smirk on your face. 

“What?” You teased, gently massaging his sack in your hands, almost able to see the veins in his cock throbbing as you had left him on edge, unable to finish. “You only said you needed me to touch you. Never said anything about needing me to make you cum.” 

“Jesus Christ…” Javi groaned, resting his head back on the pillows behind him, staring up at the ceiling as he tried to catch his breath. Letting out another gulp and deep breath, he raised his head again, his big, brown eyes pleading with you with a ferocious need and longing. “Please, Osita. Please, make me cum. Please, I need you to.” 

“That’s more like it. Such a good boy, asking so nicely. I’ll let you cum, baby. But only if it’s inside me and you fill me up so good you’re dripping down my thighs.” You shuffled your body forward, letting your soaking heat graze over his cock, reaching down to line him up with your entrance. 

“I will. Please let me, I will. I’ll fuck myself so deep inside you you’ll be dripping out of me for days. Fuck, I wanna cum so deep in you, please, Osita. Please, baby.” Javi moaned, struggling against the silk tie wrapped around his wrists, giving anything to feel the soft skin of your body in his hands. 

“So needy, sweet boy.” You tutted, the both of you gasping as you sunk down on Javi’s length, his cock bumping against your cervix as you took every inch of him inside you, taking a moment to adjust to the sweet sting of his fullness. “Fuck, you feel so good, Javi. I love feeling you inside me. No one else fills me up like you do. You like knowing you’re the only one who can make me feel like this? The only one I want to fuck me? Marry me? Fuck as many babies as you want into me?” 

The groan Javi let out was low and deep, feeling your hands rest against his chest as your hips rolled back and forth, burying Javi’s cock deep inside the warm, wet walls of your cunt. “Fuck yes, oh fuck Osita. Shit- I can’t wait to marry you. I wanna be your husband. I wanna fuck a baby into you so badly, see you all beautiful and pregnant. I can’t wait to cum inside you knowing I could really knock you up. Fuck meeee.” Javi whimpered, bucking his hips up into you, his thrusts filling you in a way that had you absolutely reeling and breathless, your demeanor quickly beginning to crumble, becoming just as dire as him. 

The hairs at the base of Javi’s cock rubbed deliciously on your clit, the sensation of that, combined with how frantically you were rocking your hips back and forth had your heart racing, so worked up from trying to keep your cool that you could feel the tingle building at the base of your spine rapidly. You could tell Javi was close, too- The gritting of his teeth, the wild and wanting look in his sweet brown eyes, the sloppy pace of his dick pounding into you, all the tells you knew far too well to realize he was quickly about to come undone. The arousal pooling in your belly continued to build, the lewd noises of your wetness and mixed moans coating the walls of your hotel room as your fingers dug into the skin of Javi’s chest. 

“Fuck, fuck- I love you, Javi. Holy shit- I’m so close. I need you to fill me up, baby.” 

“I love you too, Hermosa. I’m not gonna last much longer either, so fucking wet and tight, oh my god- I’m gonna fill you up so good, baby. I promise, promise I’ll be a good boy and fuck every last drop in you.” 

In all the times you had fucked, you had never seen Javi turn into such a mess, watching him whimper and beg to with such desperation and neediness, barely hanging on by a thread from the moment you had walked through the doors of your hotel room, and god, it was the hottest thing you’d ever seen. You thought that you’d be strong enough to keep your composure, that while Javi fell apart, you would keep it together, but any prospects of that were long gone by now. 

The coil building in your belly snapped, screaming Javi’s name over and over again as your cunt clenched around his cock, feeling your orgasm flood your body with pleasure. You braced your hands on Javi’s chest as he quickly followed behind you, thrusting a few more times up into you before letting out a low, ragged groan as he spilled deep inside you, his warm spend coating your walls, making sure to milk himself of every last drop, as promised. You could feel the mixture of the both of you leaking down your legs into Javi’s lap as you sat on top of him, his dick still pulsing as your chests heaved in sync, squeezing your eyes tightly to try and bring yourself back to earth. With a few more deep breaths, you unstraddled Javi, the loss of him inside you making the both of you hiss, crawling up the bed to untie his hands and lay your head on him as he wrapped his newly freed arms around you. 

“Holy fuck…” Javi muttered under his breath, half laughing to himself as he ran his hand over his face before bringing it back down to stroke circles along the bare skin of your back. 

“Was that okay?” You questioned, almost timidly, looking up at his blissed out face. 

“Osita… Jesus Christ, that was fucking incredible. You’re sexy when you’re bossy.” He teased, tickling your ribs, making you squeal and squirm under his touch, peppering you with soft kisses while you swatted at him to make him stop. 

“Oh shut up, you dork.” You sighed, rolling your eyes at him, laying your head back down on his chest after finally getting him to torture you with his tickles. 

“I’m being serious, Hermosa. You know I think your confidence is so fucking sexy. You can boss me around any time.” 

“Any time?” You perked up, mischievous look glistening in your eyes. “So… if I told you to go get me that cupcake from earlier and bring it to me, you’d do it?” 

“I thought you said you didn’t need another one, bossy pants.” Javi smirked, staring back at you in complete and utter adoration. 

“Well, Javier Jesús Peña, turns out you know me better than I know myself. Sooooo… cupcake? Please?” You playfully pouted, batting your lashes at him. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” He laughed, pressing a soft kiss into your messy hair before letting out a sigh as he pushed himself out of the bed, nakedly wandering over to the shelf by your door where he had stashed the cupcakes earlier, bringing them over and climbing back into bed with you. 

“Thank you, you’re the best.” You giggled, giving him a little nudge as you took a big bite of the cupcake, letting out a content sigh. “On another positive note, I definitely think that we’ve given this hotel room a run for its money before we break in our one on the honeymoon in a few months.” 

“Well…” Javi grinned, gently kissing at your neck, up along your jawline, rubbing his hand up your thigh and circling his fingertips at the soft flesh, “A little extra practice never hurt anyone.”

Taglist:

@cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @dappydelta @blackfemalenerd

[thecapricunt1616]

Gardenia (c.b. one-shot)

𝓢𝓷𝓲𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓽 (𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓑𝓣𝓒): You were a manager at a thrift store on the north side of Chicago. Your job was fairly boring, sorting clothes and pricing them, as well as tagging them and putting them away. Helping train new employees, working opening and closing shifts. That was until the Blondie with the piercing blue eyes and the oh so sexy nose started coming in every Sunday morning, usually right after you opened. 

♡ O/S Inspo: Promoting peace/repelling strife, protection from outside influences. Carry or wear to attract love or friendship. Burn with other healing herbs to bring peace and comfort to one who is ailing. Use dried flowers in healing incenses and mixtures. Scatter around a room to bring peaceful vibrations. ♡ Summary: You & Carmy meet at the thrift store you work, He takes you out for a cute date!! ♡ W/C: 2.0K+ ♡ Posted Date: 05/27/2024 ♡ A/N: Hello! Happy day 2/7 of the Capri 200 Follower Celebration Extravaganza!!! You can find said extravaganza ♡ Here ♡ this celebration will be going until next Sunday (06/02/24) so get your requests in! This request is based on ♡ This ♡ adorable ask from my beautiful little cow, @aestheticaltcow - I love you OOMF! You always are liking / reblogging & supporting my work. I love you to the moon! Thank you for all your support, I hope this is what you were thinking & that you enjoy!!! ♡ Warnings for BTC: None really! Fluff, Fem reader, No use of y/n (Reader goes by 'Bunny'), No use of physical descrip (pics are just vibes!) , Not very edited, Usual TB trigger warnings

♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡

You were a manager at a thrift store on the north side of Chicago. Your job was fairly boring, sorting clothes and pricing them, as well as tagging them and putting them away. Helping train new employees, working opening and closing shifts. That was until the Blondie with the piercing blue eyes and the oh so sexy nose started coming in every Sunday morning, usually right after you opened. 

He’d be holding a black coffee, from the coffee shop right across the way, and always head over to the men’s denim section. This was the fifth Sunday in a row he’d come in, and you couldn’t help but realize the way he checked you out whenever you checked him out, literally - and he had caught your eye so hard you looked at the credit card receipt to see his name. 

You couldn’t find him on Instagram, or Facebook - so you figured either he was a super sexy serial killer, or goes by something else online - because who the fuck doesn’t have social media even to lurk?! 

But even with his incessant staring he for sure didn’t realize you noticed, and his clockwork of coming in when you specifically were on Sundays - he still hadn’t asked you out. You figured he was shy- well knew it because any time you tried to strike up conversation with him the guy would go pink as a pig and giggle nervously. So you were going to give him an in. 

“Hey there!” You said as you approached the isle, jeans in hand. When these had come in, they immediately caught your eye. 32 34’s. His size, vintage Levi’s - they looked to be about mid to late 80s by the patch and the wear - right up his alley for what he came in for. 

His head popped up, brows raising slightly “morning” he replied, large hand wrapped nearly all the way around his iced coffee. God- he was so pretty up close. 

“Good morning! So- not to be a freak but, these came in a few days ago, and I was thinkin’ T’myself ‘hey! I know a guy who comes in for 32 34 Levi’s every Sunday! I’ll see if he’s interested’ “ you giggle a bit, holding them out. 

“You- wow those actually look sick” he took them, setting his coffee on the top rack and holding them out to see them. “Shit these are perfect. Thank you- really uh…sorry I never asked your name?” His cheeks were on fire. It was really cute though how flustered he got, he folded them, holding them over the inside of his arm and grabbing his cup again. 

“Oh! Everyone calls me Bunny! Childhood thing. Can’t remember last time used my real name” you giggled a bit “and you are?” You extend your hand to him to shake. 

He takes your hand with his tattooed one, shaking it gently. His hands were calloused, scarred, big, could probably reach spots inside of you that you could n- focus! 

“But yeah so that’s uh cool. Never met another animal named person” he chuckled a bit, and you realized that you didn’t hear anything he said. But you couldn’t just say oh! Could you repeat I totally blacked out thinking about your fingers in my pussy! So you settled for a 

“Totally! It’s the cool kids club for real. Anyway, nice to meet you Carmen” you nod 

“Oh- shit sorry I didn’t - you can call me Carmy I - I prefer it actually” he said and you wanted to smack yourself 

“I’m sorry- uh, Carmy. I’ll let you get back to it” you said and he looked like he wanted to say something else so you stayed for a moment, looking at eachother. 

“Ok so - I know you’re working and I- I respect that so tell me to go fuck myself and I will absolutely never come back but uh- would you maybe… like- wanna go out f’coffee? Sometime? Like - like I said I totally get it if-“

“I’d love to. Gimme a time and place and I’m there” you smiled and he looked a little…suprised? 

“Tomorrow? Place cross the street? Is 9:30 too early?” He asked and you shook your head. 

“Sounds perfect, it’s a date” 

9:30 am the following morning couldn’t come fast enough. That shift seemed to draaag after he’d left. As soon as you got up, you jumped in the shower, shaving every bit you had before slathering on your favorite smelling lotion. 

You decided to wear your hair naturally, so you blew it out and didn’t use any other heat on it. Your makeup was light, and you picked a not too dressy but not too casual outfit to go with it. You felt pretty, and you knew for a fact you looked even better. 

You spritz on a bit of your favorite perfume before heading out the door, a happy pep in your step at this mornings activities. You got to the coffee shop right on time, and see Carmy looking at his phone, sunglasses that were usually used as a headband in the store to keep his messy blonde curls from in front of his eyes were perched atop his nose. 

“Feels weird seein’ you on a Monday” you teased, gently touching his muscular arm and giving it a friendly squeeze. He looked up and smiled a bit 

“Right? Feels weird bein here on a Monday. Sundays’re my errand days” he joked back “it’s good t’see you, Bunny.” He said and you nodded 

“You too! I’m ready for my morning caffeine not sure about you” you said and he grabbed the door for you 

“ absolutely, after you” he pushed his sunglasses up how he usually did, following in behind you. 

“Why thank you Carmy, how gentlemanly” you head up to the line with him. 

“Of course- gotta do this thing right eh’?” He looked up at the board with a small smile. 

“Don’t indulge me, Carmy, you’re getting a black coffee” you teased knowing that was all he drank, at least from what you saw at the store when he came in. 

He chuckled, looking over at you “am I? How’d you know I wasn’t feelin’ brave t’day, huh?” He chides with a grin 

“Ohh so brave what a big brave boy mixing up your coffee order huh?” You mused, stepping up to the counter

“Good morning! What can we get started for you today?” The barista asked and Carmy extended his hand to let you know you could go first 

“Oh! Thanks, uhh ok soo- hmmm…” you look at the board for a few moments. “A large lavender iced matcha please and a blueberry scone.” You said and they nodded, 

“And for you sir? Sorry will this be together?” They ask

“Yes- I’ll have what she’s having and that’s it.” Carmy took his card out, holding it over the reader and it beeps, accepting his payment. 

“Alright! Thank you, you can wait at the end there it’ll be right out” they said and you look over, smiling bright. That was especially nice, for you at least. The last time you went out with a guy, he expected you to pay for you both. So, to say the least it felt nice to be taken care of, even if it was just a stupid little coffee. 

You walked to the end of the counter, standing side by side as you wait “thank you. That was very polite of you” you told him, and his cheeks go that delicious adorable shade of pink that trickles down his neck and he shrugs a bit 

“S’nothin. So uh- how long you been workin’ at the thrift?” He asked, grabbing a few napkins and straws for when your drinks came out. You watched his tattooed hands, your stomach doing those flips and rushes of heat flooding your core

“Oh- yeah uh..3 years? Ish? I realized I never asked, what do you do f’r work?” You asked, playing with the sleeve of your shirt with your fingers that never stopped moving. He seemed the same, rolling paper covered straws between his fingers or constantly tapping on his coffee cup in a random rhythm. 

“Oh- shit yeah sorry I’m a chef. Sorry I never said anything but uh- yeah. The beef, well, the bear were kinda in the middle of renovating right now and changing our look.” He said and your mouth falls 

“The beef?! Holy shit! Been goin there f’years!! Since I came back to Chicago!! Fire sandwiches. So you’re sayin’ no more beef sandwiches?! Dude I didn’t even get one before I found out you were closin’!” You said and the barista came over, setting your bags and drinks in front of you 

“Have a great one guys!” They said and headed back to their station. We thanked them and headed back outside where there was little tables and chairs you could sit, and of course his sunglasses were right back over his eyes as soon as we got outside. 

“What if I told you- I could make you one an’ bring it to you whenever you want?” He set down the bags of scones he’d carried for you, one in front of both of you before handing you a straw for your drink. 

“I’d say you’re an angel sent from god, because those sandwiches are somethin else” you took the scone out of the bag and had a bite, moaning softly at the taste and sitting back “ugh fuck I love scones” you said and he chuckled a bit, having a bite of his own. 

“These uh- actually are more muffin by recipe. Scones would be way dryer, but these sell better in the states” he took another bite. You hum, mixing up your drink before having a sip. 

“Oh yeah? Hit me with another chef fact mister brave is this real matcha or whatever or the fake shit?” You hummed. It all tasted the same to you, but you wondered if he’d really have an answer. 

“Mm” he hummed and opened his straw, mixing it before taking a sip. He scrunched his nose a bit “fake, and the lavender is fake which- I mean is kind of pitiful because lavander syrup is easy as fuck to make and not even expensive” he said and mixed it up even more, hoping that helped the flavor and had another hip, shivering slightly at the sugar which made you laugh. 

“You like that?” He asked and you laughed, the kind of laugh that made your eyes crinkle just by the pure look of icky written on his features. 

“You make fun of a girl for her morning beverage choices on a first date?” You asked and he put his hands up in defense 

“Woah. Woah I said hang out i didn’t say date” he teased, causing you to laugh even more 

“Am I seeing right now why you’re single?” You joked and he caught the giggles this time, and you wish you could see the way his eyes crinkled up beneath his sunglasses. 

The rest of the meal was spent laughing, and making pleasant conversation. You spoke about where you were both from, what schools you went to, you’d learned apparently he studied abroad for being a chef which was crazy because you didn’t even know people studied abroad for simply making food but you guessed it was pretty serious by the way that he spoke about it. 

Apparently the beef had been in his family and was handed down to him recently, so he decided to do something different with it and revamp the whole thing into the bear that would be opening in 2 months. You’d say there talking for about 2 hours, until he got a call about said restaurant and had to head out. 

“Really, Bunny. This was…really great. I haven’t been able to like- it doesn’t matter. But…thank you, we should do this again if you’re down” he said and you smiled. 

“How ‘bout next Sunday, but before the store opens - 7:30 too early for you?” you repeated his words playfully from when he asked you out. 

“Nothin w' you is too early f’me, y'got y’self a date”

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Burning Wood

Marc Spector x GN!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • MK Bingo 2024 Masterlist • ko-fi •

Summary: Marc gets a boner.

🌛For @moonknight-events MK Bingo Spring 2024 Event🌜

A/N: One day I'll have to answer for my sins.

Warnings: blow job in a forest, Marc calling reader 'baby', getting a boner in public and being a little into it, swearing, typos - my head is really not in the game atm, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 1831

Marc pressed his cold nose into your neck as he hugged you from behind. You shiver, instinctively flinching away from his touch and he giggles. 

He presses his nose against you again. 

“Marc,” you chastise, but there’s humour in your voice.

“What?” He grins, obviously knowing exactly what he’s doing. 

“How is your nose so freezing?”

“How is your neck so warm?” 

You chuckle and sigh, putting your hands over his arms. You both stare at the bonfire for a moment longer. 

“I don’t get how you can be cold standing next to this thing,” you motion your hands to the flames. 

Marc jogs on the spot a little, just to amuse you. “It’s cold, let’s stand closer.” 

You laugh. “We’ll be in the fire.”

“Hmmm,” he nuzzles into your neck again and kisses your skin lightly. “Nice and toasty.” 

So far, Marc had enjoyed visiting your family, even if they did live in the middle of nowhere. He thought he was going to go a little stir crazy at first, playfully making shinning jibes, but then he’d kind of… got used to it. The stillness. The forest walks. The tiny village with the population of 62. 

A few kids ran around with sparklers under the watchful gaze of their parents, several people held out marshmallows need the flames. There was warm mead and hot chocolate if anyone wanted it. 

Marc sighed, resting his chin on your shoulder for a second before he muttered, “my hands are cold too.” 

“Marc,” you laugh, “you’re wearing gloves.” 

“I know.”

“Well, you’re not putting them on me.”

“But you’re so warm.” He teases, tensing his arms as if he’s going to move and try to sneak under your shirt. 

“Fuck off.” You grin and grab hold of his hands to stop them going anywhere.

“That’s not nice,” he pouts playfully. “I’m going to freeze to death and you're not going to help me?” 

“You are not, besides, I thought Chicago got pretty cold? Shouldn’t you be used to this?” You tease. 

He grumbles something into your shoulder.

“What?” 

“I said, Chicago isn’t damp cold. Here’s damp cold. Gets into everything.” 

You snort. “Aww, poor baby.” 

“Yeah,” he nods and kisses your cheek. “Poor me, where’s the sympathy for me?” 

You can hear the grin in his voice, he always loved playing up because it made you laugh. Though he seemed a little extra needy right now. Not normally the one for physical affection in public. Maybe the darkness of the night helped.

The bonfire snaps a little, still going strong and you pat Marc’s hair with your gloved hand as you lean back against him. 

He sighs, pressing his face into your shoulder as you brush against the semi-hard outline of cock. 

You pause. Ah. So that was why he was being so handsy. 

“Ohhhhh,” you whisper, dragging out the word to be a menace and lean back again a little to press against his bulge. “I see, hugging me so that you can use me as a shield for prying eyes are you?”

“No.” He says into your shoulder, his voice obscured by your coat. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Okay, well I’ll just-” You go to move but his arms tighten around you.

“Stay here.” 

You giggle. 

He lifts his head up and kisses your cheek again. “I did not hug you to use you as a shield,” he tries to sound stern but the smile in his voice wins out. “I came to hug you and…”

“And?” You raise an eyebrow at him. 

“And then this happened.” 

“From a hug?” You say disbelievingly. 

“Hmm,” he grumbles.”You smell nice.” 

You laugh, “I smell like burning wood.” 

“Yeah, well, that and your natural smell,” he nuzzles into your neck again and breathes deeply. “Smells really good. Smells like… comfort, or something.” 

Despite the sweet tone to his words, you can’t resist a tease. “And that made you horny?”

He tuts and rolls his eyes, giving you a little squeeze. “Yes, okay, it made me really horny. Happy?” 

You pause and then nod, “yes.” You say with a touch too much enthusiasm and Marc laughs. 

“Okay, well good to have your approval.” 

You smile and lean back against him, pressing your back to his chest. There’s a pause before you push back a little more, rubbing against his erection again. 

He stifles a moan into your coat. “Stop it.” He hisses, but you can tell he doesn’t mean it. 

“Stop what?” You say innocently. 

“You know what.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about Marc.” You punctuate the end of the sentence by gently leaning back and rolling your hips against him. 

He groans softly and presses into you. You hear the click in his throat as he swallows. “Do you want me to come in my jeans? Because that’s what’s gonna happen if you keep doing that.” He hisses.

“What?” You say, all mock surprise. “So quickly.” 

He lets out a little grunt of annoyance and presses his face back into your coat.

The realisation that maybe Marc Spector was a little into the risk of being caught started to piece together in your mind. 

You pause for a second before deciding. “Okay.” You pull out of his embrace and turn to face him. 

“Okay?” He startles, his eyebrows pinched together in disappointment, thinking the game is over. 

“Hmm,” you smile sweetly and take his hand before you start walking and urging him to follow. It takes him a second to get the hint. 

No one else seems to notice, or mind, as you both head away from the celebrations. Following the little well trodden path that leads back to the village. 

Marc follows close, a step behind until you are far enough away from the bonfire to be seen by anyone there, but close enough that the light from it just about illuminates your path. 

You guide him off the trail into the thick outcrop of trees.

“Baby, what are we-”

You silence him with a harsh kiss, licking into his mouth when he parts his lips in surprise. He moans instantly, wrapping his strong arms around you and pulling you close even as you push him up against a thick oak tree. 

He kisses back needily, his breathing already ragged and cheeks warm. His nose, however, is still cold. 

You kiss his cheek lightly before you trail your lips down his jaw and nip lightly at his pulse point. 

He groans, bucking against you and squirming a little, biting his lip to keep himself vaguely quiet. 

“Didn’t realise you had a thing for the outside.” You tease and Marc huffs. 

“I don’t.” 

“Sure, sure,” you suck on his neck and he gasps, his body bending toward you, trying to wrap itself around you. You slowly run your hands down to his cock, the poor thing trapped in the tight confines of his jeans. 

He groans again, the sound grumbling through his chest and into you. “Baby,” he bites his lip, and even though you can’t make out his exact expression in the poor light, you can picture it perfectly in your mind. How his brow furrowed needily, how wide his pupils were.

You unbuckle his belt, the sound of the leather opening makes his eyes roll back and he has to bite his tongue to stop the loud moan that threatens to escape. 

He stays still as he can as you undo his jeans, his hands on your arms, needing to touch you and keep you close despite wanting to give you room to manoeuvre. 

And when you sink to your knees he shudders, throwing his head back against the tree bark and sighing softly. 

You take your gloves off and shove them into your coat pocket.

“Baby, I-” He swallows down his words, screwing his eyes tight as your warm hands pull him free and you suck on his head. 

Precum spreads across your tongue, salty and rich as you moan softly, the reverberations running down the length of him and making his muscles twitch. 

You pull back, just enough to pump the length of his a few times while your other hand massages his balls, one finger lightly pressing on his perineum. 

He shudders, sighing out into the darkness as you lap at his weeping slit with the flat of your tongue, running it along and swirling around his tip before swallowing him down. 

He cries out, grabbing hold of your shoulders as you take him as deeply as you can. He fights the urge to buck up and thrust himself completely in your throat, his bottom lip between his teeth as you move up and down, drawing his pleasure out like poison from a bite. He tries to fight against it, tries to prolong the sensation as long as he can, to relax into it. But he’s too worked up, too desperate. And his orgasm rapidly approaches. 

The earth and dead leaves are soft under your knees, the dampness of the dirt soaking a little into your trousers, but you don’t mind. Focusing solely on Marc’s little whimpers and pleads, sounds you’re sure he doesn’t even realise he’s making. 

How his legs shake, how his cock twitches in your throat, how his fingers dig into you. 

He rolls his hips slightly, panting and you know he’s close, practically there. Warmth builds in your chest, pride at how trusting he is with you, how he knows you’ll take care of him. 

You sink lower, relaxing your throat as much as you can and slipping him a centimetre further inside. 

Marc gasps, the sound loud but not enough to raise suspicion, he bucks once, swearing and trying to mutter a warning but you press closer to him and swallow as he spirts into your throat. 

He shakes as stars explode behind his eyes, as pleasure washes over him and momentarily rids him of his strength. He moans your name softly, gasping and keeping a firm hold on your shoulder to keep himself upright. 

You keep moving, letting him ride his orgasm out before you lick him clean and tuck him back into his jeans. 

You laugh a little as you try to get the zip up. 

“What?” He smiles, his voice floaty and wonderfully blissed out. 

“I can’t get your jeans closed with your dick still hard.” You giggle. 

“Oh,” he chuckles and helps you to your feet. “Don’t worry about it.” He kisses your cheek, your neck, nipping lightly at your skin before he kisses your lips and holding you close. 

“Don’t worry about it?”

“Yeah, well, we’re going back to the house anyway.”

“Oh, are we?” You smile.

He nods. 

“I thought we were going back to the bonfire?” You tease. 

He growls playfully, kissing the spot just under your ear. “Oh no, we’re going back and I’m going to fuck you into the mattress and make you scream while the village is empty and everyone else is here.” 

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

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[weird-an]

Steve's dad hates his job, his mother finds it endearing and calls it a hobby. Steve didn't talk to them for three months now.

Look, he didn't want to become a kindergarten teacher. Kids annoy the shit out of him, starting with the nerd squad that some day sat on the backseat of his BMW and never left.

But he's good at it. With the kids. He didn't think he could have been, because he doesn't know what it is parents exactly do, how to deal with children, but he learned.

It's the first job he wants - and that after seven years of boredom and the sinking feeling that he'll never be good at anything. Jesus, even the kids know he's good at it. The kids that aren't kids anymore, but friends. Max and Lucas whose daughter now comes to his kindergarten, too.

Jordan reminds him so much of them. A little rascal with too much energy and too much heart. Swears like a sailor, but being one of the kindest kids in the group.

It's the end of the day and Steve waits for her to get picked up. Finally, there's someone at the door and he turns around to greet Lucas who usually runs a little late.

He freezes. Jordan squeals with joy.

"Uncle Billy!" She climbs up his leg until she's lifted up.

"Am I dreaming or is that you, Harrington?" Billy Hargrove stands in front of him. Well and alive and with the same shit eating grin that was on his lips seven years ago. He's wearing an apron, hair escaping the loose bun, like he has just hurried here from work. From a bakery, it seems.

"You're awake, fipshit," Jordan explains with the seriousness of a kid that got it all figured out, because adults are stupid.

"It's dipshit," Billy corrects, sounding all proud. Well. That explains Jordan's language.

"Dipshit," Jordan repeats, nodding along.

"I didn't know you lived here," Steve says lamely. Chicago isn't Hawkins, but he thought Hargrove would have left the state after surviving the monster's attack.

"Moved here a week ago - to be close to my niece," Billy just says, booping Jordan's nose. He gives her a big smile, freckles dancing and cheeks dimpling.

It's odd to see him like that. Unguarded, grinning, happy. He's beautiful, Steve thinks before he can catch himself.

"Billy wants to see if Hawwi - Harrington is still hot," Jordan announces innocently.

Oh. Steve's heart flutters.

Billy's nose turns red. "Jordan Sinclair," he growls.

"Uncle Billy," she cheers.

She's Steve's favourite kid, he decides.

"I make some damn good pies," Billy says, face still crimson. "If you get tired of eating with three year olds."

He's trying to sound cool. It's hard when there's a three year old beginning to braid his mullet.

How can Steve say no to that?

[ragingbookdragon]

It’s a quarter to three when the door to the bedroom opens and shuffling echoes in her ears. The covers are pulled back and a weight dips into the space behind her, a moment then strong arms pull her back to an equally strong chest. A low groan rumbles through her back and in her ear, a sleepy smile coming across her lips as she lazily rolls, more like flops in his arms, until she’s got her head tucked into his neck.

“Home late,” she mutters against his skin and his fingers trail underneath the gray t-shirt she’s got on—his t-shirt—a silent apology in the form of a caress.

“Work ran late,” he replies lowly, rubbing his cheek against her head. “Sorry, love.”

She ignores the apology. “Kick some bad guys’ asses?”

“From Mexico all the way to Chicago,” he answers with a smile.

“Good job,” she answers, running a hand up his chest, warm skin beneath her fingers, heartbeat fluttering at her fingertips. “Proud of you.”

His smile grows and he hunkers down with her in his arms, tangling their legs as he pulls the covers up to their noses. “I’m proud of you, love.”

“I said it first,” she retorts with a lazy huff, already feeling drowsiness starting to wash over her. “I’m proudest.”

“Yes, you are,” he snorts, letting his eyes fall shut. “I love you.”

Her hand pats his chest, nose brushing his skin as she tips her head up and presses her lips to his pulse. “Love you, more.”

He waits until she’s asleep and murmurs earnestly, “I love you most.”

[rogueddie]

On and On / Figure You Out

Corroded Coffin are at the peak of their popularity. They're not mainstream, or in any way big, but they're known enough that they're kept busy. Touring as an opening act, special appearences in little underground places...

Eddie hasn't been home for months. He'd known that he'd most likely be kept away when their manager started talking to them excitedly about all the opportunities.

He hadn't expected it to take such a toll on his and Steves relationship.

It had taken him a while to notice the problems too. He's always so tired after gigs... it takes him two weeks to notice how tired Steve sounds.

"Are you ok?" He blurts, as soon as he notices.

"I'm fine," Steve says.

Eddie can hear the lie.

"Are you tired?" He pushes. "Long day?"

"No. You don't need to worry about me. What were you saying about Jeff? Something about a solo, right?"

No, Eddie wants to scream. I was talking about us!

He doesn't say that though. He rattles off the things that happened in their last show- the things that are interesting, anyway. He doesn't mention how hard it had hit him, after the show, how lonely he is.

It's the same sort of conversation they always have. There isn't really anything different.

It feels different.

After saying their goodbyes, hanging up, Eddie hovers by the phone for a few minutes. Long enough for the others, who had been waiting nearby, to worry.

"Eddie?" Jeff is the one to walk over, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You ok, man?"

"Yeah," Eddie replies, automatically. But, frowning, he starts shaking his head. "No. I don't know. It's..."

"Hey, stay calm, it's ok. Did something happen? Is Steve ok?"

"Yeah, it... no. No. Nothing happened, but... I just have this feeling, man, like something really bad is happened and I'm seeing it too late and now-"

"Hey, hey, Eddie, breathe. Whatever it is, we'll help you out, ok? We can fix this, right?"

"Right," Eddie says. He looks to Gareth and Grant, then back to Jeff. "I need to go home. I need..."

"It's that big? Are you sure you're not overreacitng?"

"I don't know. I don't want to risk it. Like, it feels like something is about to break. I can't fix it from here- if I wait, it'll be too late, and-"

"Ok," Jeff cuts in, turning to gesture the other two over. "You go home, we'll find someone to cover for a few dates."

"I know someone who could cover for Chicago," Gareth offers.

"Thank you," Eddie manages to choke out. He knows it's not enough but, by their expressions, they at least understand some of what he can't bring himself to say.

"Go get your man," Grant encourages. "We'll be fine."

"Thank you," Eddie repeats. "So much, it-"

"Jesus, man!" Gareth cuts in, nudging him. "We know. We love you too. Now, go!"

"Go," Jeff says, nodding, when Eddie looks to him. "He won't wait forever, right?"

It takes too long to get a flight back to Indiana, and even longer to find a taxi willing to take him all the way to Hawkins. It ends up taking him 36 hours to get home, to get to Steve, after the phone call.

Steve is sleeping on the couch when he gets in, curled up in one of Eddies old sweaters.

"Sweetheart," Eddie whispers, brushing his hair back, gentle and soft.

Steve mumbles, nose scrunching in annoyance as he wakes up. He blinks at Eddie a few times, confused. "Eds? What- how are you here?"

"I missed you." Eddie isn't sure why he's whispering. The moment feels so fragile. "I needed to see you."

"But your tour-"

"Can wait. You're more important."

"What about that, uh... upward swing?" Steve pulls his hand off his hair, holding in both his own. "Once in a lifetime opportunity, right?"

"I don't care about that. On the phone, you... I had to come home, Stevie. You sounded so... I don't know. Tired?"

Steve is quiet for a moment, before admitting; "I missed you. Doesn't feel like home when you're gone."

"Good job I'm back then, huh?"

"For how long? One night and then you're gone again?"

"Forever, if you want. Or I can drag you out with us. Whatever it takes. Whatever you need."

"Just... don't leave me for so long."

"I won't. I promise."

"Ok," Steve finally smiles. It's a small, frail thing, but it's a smile. "Thank you, Eds. For coming here."

"Anytime." Eddie kisses the back of his hand. "Seriously, anytime. Call me and I'll come running. Whenever and whatever. I love you, so much. You know that, right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I know. I love you, too."

[uptondixon]

Chicago P.D's Men as Your Older Brother

Wordcount: 1547. 230-290 each.

Reader's age and gender are not specified. The timelines may give a hint about the age differences, though. 

Kevin Atwater

Raising 3 siblings was definitely not in Kevin's life plan. He has always been a good brother, but there's a huge difference between a brother and a father. Despite his insecurities, he did a good job. Kevin raised you, Vinessa, and Jordan with all the love in the world. Food, clothes, toys, birthday parties, doctor appointments, school work, he did it all. And he would do it again and again if it meant seeing you and your siblings growing up happy and healthy. When your father came back from prison, it took a toll on all of you. While Kevin tried to deal with his own unresolved feelings about your dad, you had a weird feeling growing in your chest.

“Who is this man? He is not my father, at least I don't feel like he is,” you told Kevin one afternoon after he mentioned your father wanted to meet. Kevin and Vinessa agreed with you, not really knowing how to feel towards the man.

“You raised us, Kev,” you said, looking into his eyes. “We never called you dad because you've always been Kev, our big brother. But you've been a dad to us all along.”

Later that night, you all got to an agreement: to give your father a chance. But he would never be number one. Ever. Kevin is and always going to be number one in your hearts.

Jay Halstead

It's no surprise to anyone that being a Halstead comes with a package: a talent for trouble and two very, extremely, unnecessarily protective older brothers. Jay and Will made sure everyone knew not to mess with you or things would get ugly really fast. Kids at school knew you had a cop and a doctor as your brothers, and you knew that was the reason no one ever laid a finger on you. This whole protective thing goes both ways, though. Jay will never forget the day you got home from a party with a busted lip. The reason? Apparently, to defend him.

“What?” the look of disbelief on his face was priceless. If this wasn't a serious conversation, you would be laughing your ass off. “Defending me? What do you mean?”

“We were talking, and suddenly the conversation shifted to police. This guy started shit-talking that all cops were dirty and did nothing for the city. Never in a million years could I stand there and say nothing!” you said in exasperation. “I told them how my brother saves lives every day and how much you and your team sacrifice for this city.”

Jay just stood there. His fingers came to rest on the bridge of his nose. Damn, he couldn't say he wasn't proud, but at the same time…

“Kid, that's nice and all, but would you mind not getting into fights on my behalf ever again? Jesus!”

Antonio Dawson

The Dawson siblings… your parents had no idea they would have to deal with 3 souls that feared absolutely nothing. Being the youngest definitely helped you feel even bolder. Having Antonio and Gabby protect you from everything and everyone made you feel like the safest person on earth. Growing up is never easy, but being a Dawson prepared you for a lot. With Gabby being in CFD and Antonio in CPD, your parents wondered if you would follow your sibling's footsteps. When the moment came to choose your profession, they were worried that would be the case. You, however, have no idea where your passion lies.

“You don't have to be so worried about this, kid,” Antonio said from his spot on the couch.

“How can I not, Tonio?”

“Come here, sit down,” he said, patting the spot beside him. You went and sat beside him. “It's perfectly normal to feel lost about all this. It's not an easy decision. “

“It was easy for you and Gabby. You always knew what you wanted to do.”

“That means nothing. Do you think we never had doubts? That we didn't struggle?” Antonio held your face in his hands. “You have our support. Always. It doesn't matter what you choose to do.”

“He's right,” Gabby said, having arrived in the room just now. “We love you, and we're going to help you find your way.”

Hank Voight

Losing a parent is something that can change someone’s entire life. You and Hank had to deal with the loss of your dad when you were both too young to even understand why he died. You and Hank were really different, but you both shared the wish to become police. To protect the city like your father did. Being the oldest, Hank became a mentor to you. He was there for you in every step of your career, being your biggest supporter. Being police somehow strengthened your bond and you guys grew closer as the years went by. You could be yourself without any fear with him, and he felt the same. When your brother lost the love of his life, his wife Camille, you were the only person he would open up to.

“I don’t know what to do,” Hank stared at you for the first time that evening. He’s been avoiding you since the funeral that morning. You knew he was scared to pour out his emotions, afraid he wouldn’t be able to keep going if he let himself feel all that pain.

“I’m here, Hank,” you held his hands that rested on the table.

“Do you remember how you felt when dad died?” Hank asked you.

“What? No… We were so young.”

“Exactly. I don’t remember hurting his much, you know?”

You felt your eyes fill with tears at his words. You got up and embraced him in a hug, hoping to pass him some comfort. “We’re going to be okay, brother. I got you.”

Adam Ruzek

As surprising as it may sound, having an older brother who never leaves you alone and is devoted to annoy you is not that bad. You were a really introverted kid, and for years Adam was your only friend. You were still a baby when your parents divorced. This made things even more complicated between them, but Adam has always been there for you. He held your hand when you walked for the first time. He taught you how to ride a bike and how to play football. Your dad always watched you two with fondness in his eyes. The three of you were pretty close. Bob was not perfect, but he tried his best. He knew that Adam felt like he had to protect you from everything, but sometimes that went too far.

“Adam, for the last time, tell me where the hell are they!” Bob was starting to lose his patience.

“Dad, I told you I don’t know.”

“You’re 20, for god's sake! You should stop covering for them.”

Adam choose to stay silent this time. They’ve been at it for 30 minutes now, and he already used all his excuses.

“Fine, you want me to go to the police station? I can find them and cause a scene, sending police cars to wherever they are!”

Adam’s eyes widened at this, he knew it was a lost battle now. He told your dad about the party you went to, already feeling sorry for all the scolding you’d get the next days. Later that night, Adam apologized for not being able to hold your dad longer.

You looked at him with a big smile on your face, “It’s okay, Adam. Do you wanna know how my date went?”

Dante Torres

Life could be hard. Too damn hard. You and Dante knew that very well. From a young age, both of you had to learn how to survive in a world where kids like you two were constantly thrown under the bus. Being a foreigner in the US was hard enough, but also being poor and living with an abusive stepfather made things worse. Dante had to grow up faster than usual. He had to become someone that you and your mother could rely on, even though he was way too young for any of this. Juvie. Gangs. You never lost hope that Dante would leave that life, find a good job, and be happy. The day he got into the academy was one of the happiest days of your life. Seeing him later in Intelligence made you so damn proud.

“I can't believe they're giving you a permanent spot!” you were jumping into his arms before he could cross the threshold.

“You saw my message?” Dante said with a smile, hugging you back.

“Of course I did! You got the job, I'm so proud of you!”

“Where's mom?” Dante asked, stepping back from the hug and closing the door. You could tell he was a little overwhelmed with the news himself.

“She will be back soon. We have a surprise for you,” you said nonchalantly.

“What? You guys didn't have to give me anything.”

“Don't worry, bald head,” you used the nickname he hated so much. “We want to treat you, for everything you did for us.”

You approached him again and held his hand, “We love you, and we're so proud.”

“I love you guys too.” Dante smiled down at you. “But never call me bald head again.”

“Okay, bald head.”

Please accept this post as my apology for being MIA… I had this idea the other day so I decided to write it.

I’m aware that Adam has a sister that was mentioned in the show, but I don’t remember much about her, so that’s why she wasn’t mentioned. The same goes for his mother. For the others, I tried to include their parents and siblings as much as I could.

Chapter 4 of Upstead Foster Daughter is half written because I want it to be longer than the others, but inspiration hasn't hit me in a while.

Thank you again for all the love on my fics. It means a lot to me seeing all the likes and reblogs ♡