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hunnylagoon · 4 months

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Right Where You Left Me

Pt1: Coming Down With Me

Ellie Williams x reader

I once met a girl with skin like kiwi. Even the butterflies were drawn to her, landing on the top of her nose, the dip in her palm. But the kiwi stung my tongue, scarred my lips and made me bleed. I do not care. Cover me in your kiwi kisses, burn my mouth and scar my flesh. Bleach my eyes and dip my heart in lemon juice. Sing your sickly sweet words until my ears bleed.

Premise: You and Ellie were childhood best friends until you grew up. Funny thing about soulmates is that they tend to find their way back to each other.

Warnings: Angst / reader has religious issues / people are mean lol / best friends to enemies to lovers / roommate! Ellie

Part two here!

Part three here!

Part four here!

I know everything about you,

You know everything about me.

I had always been bound to the earth while Ellie danced with the stars in the night sky among delusion and dreams. Though, more so than anything, we were bound to one another.

Our parents were friends, even before we were born. They met at summer camp when they were teenagers, the same camp that Ellie and I were eventually shipped off to every summer. Of course, I have no recollection of when I was an infant, only stories that my parents shared with me; My dad told me that I learned to crawl backwards before I learned to crawl forwards. Joel kept a photo album of his girl.

I can't remember days of crawling around and babbling incoherently, but I can tell you what I remember.

Five years old- Kindergarten

Despite the air being unbearable hot, it was infused with excitement as Ellie and me set foot in the petting zoo. I had never seen so many animals in one place, my little brain was going nuts. Accompanied by the gentle hum of content animals, the aroma of straw, and the distant melody of joyful chatter, the petting zoo rang true to its rustic charm.

Ellie, with her auburn curls bouncing in the breeze, led the way, her eyes widened at the sight of a fluffy alpaca lazily grazing in the sunshine. I giggled as we approached a pen filled with adorable piglets, their tiny snouts sniffing the pure air far away from the dirty stench of the city.

Our parents, watching with affectionate smiles, guided us to the lamb enclosure where soft, woolly creatures nuzzled against tiny palms. Ellie's fingers gently traced the contours of a lamb's ear, and she couldn't resist a delighted squeal as she felt the velvety nose of a goat.

As the afternoon sun cast a warm glow on the scene, the families strolled through the meandering paths, passing by a pond where ducks quacked merrily. Ellie and I, hand in loveable hand, marvelled at the wonders of the animal kingdom, our hearts brimming with the pure joy of discovery and a blooming friendship.

Seven years old- Grade Two

On this particular day, Ellie and I had been messing around in her backyard; that's all we did on the weekends at that age, you couldn't get us to go inside. We spent the morning entwined in daffodils and hyacinth that Joel has so tenderly nurtured, careful not to crush the dainty flowers beneath our wild flailing bodies.

We had the brilliant idea to paint rocks so we had been searching her yard for the perfect flat stones we had in mind. Ellie picked up a rock and immediately threw it back down, jumping away with a shriek.

This had piqued my curiosity (As well as Joels who sat on the back porch, watching us), I went over to where she stood petrified and found nothing more than a little snake staring up at her. I dropped the stones I had been carrying and bent over to get a better look at it, it was brown and had a few white vertical stripes cascading up its thin body.

I slowly moved my hand outwards to touch but was swiftly interrupted by Joel scooping me up "That's enough of that kiddo."

Nine years old- Grade Four

Joel's house garnered an expansive backyard and just past the old fence that Ellie and I had thrown one too many softballs at was a lush forest. I would always clamour up the wood fence and poke my little head over it to try and gather a glimpse of wildlife, Ellie usually had to give me a little boost. "Hold still!" She hissed with her arms wrapped around my torso to help lift me, my scrawny arms shook as I tried to pull myself up even further.

The wood rot of the ancient fence finally set in and with the both of us pressing our mighty weight against it collapsed with the fence. We heard the splitting of wood, I got the worst end of the stick, toppling over and putting my hands out to protect myself. I could've sworn that I heard my wrist break like a crunch.

While I did what felt like a three-sixty frontflip over the fence just for my small head to come down on the end of it with a solid smack, Ellie had just flopped on top of it, green eyes widening in shock when she saw my once straight arm now had an abnormal bump coming out from my wrist. "What's wrong with your hand?"

"I don't know I'm probably dying!" I screamed as loud as my voice could carry, that was the first time I had felt adrenaline run through my veins. "You killed me!"

"No, I didn't!" She retorted, scrambling off the fence and back up to her feet. She was clad in a Jurassic Park T-shirt that she practically was swimming in and those pink and orange plaid Bermuda shorts that any kid in the 2000s owned. "Dad!" Ellie yelled, calling for Joel.

I felt the tears welling up in my eyes and finally, I released the sob that had been building up in my throat. She was almost dumbstruck and just ended up kneeling and wrapping her arms around me in a hug.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." She muttered.

10 years old- Grade Five

Ellie had been practicing guitar the entire time I was at her house, Joel had gifted her his old guitar and she was so set on perfecting every cord, every half-hour she would ask for a song recommendation and then flip through the songbook she got to find it.

I was curled up in her bed reading The Hunger Games over again "Els, are you team Peeta or Gale?" I was always at Ellie's house, mine was too busy all the time; I had three siblings, Naomi and Aaron who were twins and two years younger than me and my brother Elijah who was three years older than me. I loved going to her house on Saturdays so I could sleep in and wriggle my way out of going to church. Even though her house was right across the street from mine and my parents would bang on Joel's door, he always covered for me.

"Uh," She was distracted by something in her songbook "Team Katniss?"

I nod in approval to myself as she isn't paying attention "You know who Gale reminds me of?" I ask and without Ellie giving me a response I answer anyway "Luke, I think I kind of like him."

Those are the words that get her to look at me "Ew, he's so weird."

"He's nice to me."

She wrinkles her nose in distaste then shrugs, returning to her guitar which sits awardly in her scrawny frame.

12 years old- Grade Seven

"Fuck!" I yell, kicking the grimy green dumpster in the graffiti-covered ally out of anger, though I kicked it a little too hard now my foot hurts I refuse to admit it "Fuck I hate them!"

Ellie leans against the brick wall on the opposite side of the alley, our bikes discarded on the ground while I hopelessly rant to my friend about my parents. She doesn't say much, just little nods of agreement. My parents had caught me skipping church and they laid into me, saying that I had no respect for them or god and whether that was true or not didn't matter, I was full of pre-teen angst and needed to call my friend to go for a bike ride around town.

"She fucking tore my room apart, I never see them get mad at Aaron or Naomi!" I drag my hands down my face before I look back at the dumpster and kick it again "Ow, cunt!" I'm now hopping on one foot while my knee bends my other leg and I hold my beaten red Converse, covered in doodles, to soothe the pain of my poor toes. It's moments like this that remind me why I love Ellie, because as stupid as I look hobbling around and cussing, she doesn't laugh at me even though I know she wants to.

After a little bit of me aimlessly yelling I finally wind down. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to remember those breathing exercises that we were taught at school assemblies. "Thanks for listening to me talk shit, I'm sorry."

"Don't be," She shrugs "I've seen you do worse."

This cracks a smile on my face, I turn my head and am met with the Jackson skyline, a beautiful pink sunset on the horizon "Sun's setting," I say.

"Sleepover?" Ellie asks.

"Sleepover," I confirm.

13 years old- Grade Eight

We were thirteen when our parents shoved cash into our hands and dropped us at the mall to go back to school shopping by ourselves for the first time. Every parent's nightmare was a busy mall so when they figured us old enough to venture into the dreaded foodcourt on our own, believed they were taking that opportunity.

Ellie had bought a couple of T-shirts and hoodies here and there, not too particular about what she was buying, though I was very nit-picky over what I wore so I forced Ellie to judge every single outfit that I wore and rate it, she gave the same answer every single time "It looks fine."

"Cool but I don't wanna look fine, I wanna look pretty," I say in frustration, walking back into the dressing room to try on another outfit. Ellie is sitting in the fitting room on a pink velvet couch, arms crossed and waiting for me to finish. "How's this?" I ask, walking out of the changing stall and giving her a little twirl.

"It looks fine- I mean good, everything looks good on you." She sounds almost exasperated. Ellie's hair was still that vibrant auburn colour that my mother was obsessed with, it had yet to fade out into a duller brown with age.

"Really?" I perk up just the slightest.

"Yeah, you look really pretty." She gives me a little nod of confirmation. I know that she's only saying that because she wants to go to the food court and get a cinnamon bun but I believe her anyway.

14 years old- Grade Nine

We were just nearing the end of the second half of our soccer game. It was the tournament and we were only a point away from placing first in the league, the thought of it had kept me up all week I was running off of Subway sandwiches and Gatorade.

Riley (the midfielder) swiftly passed the ball to me before she was surrounded by the other team's defence, I looked up to the clock and there were only seconds left in the match. I let my instincts take over, my parents forcing me into soccer since elementary school was not going to wind up useless. My footwork took me up the right wing just before the penalty box.

I wasn't paying enough attention to notice the tall blonde girl in a slick back ponytail closing in on me. I hear Ellie shout my name and that's all I need to make this last pass, I barely even looked up before power-driving the ball to Ellie who was merely six metres away from me. I slipped onto the muddied field with that kick, watching Ellie waste no time to score our final goal the second her cleat touched the ball.

The clock deadlocks and I drag myself off the ground running towards my best friend, I jump on her almost taking her down with me though she manages to steady herself. "I fucking love you!" I scream hugging her with all of the force I can muster. She hugs me in return, unable to get any words out between her laughs. The team is quick to swarm us, everyone is shouting about our well-deserved victory but not one person is louder than Joel in the stands.

15 years old- Grade Ten

Snow was falling as I stood in the foyer of the high school, still waiting for my date for the winter formal to arrive. Conner had asked me out weeks ago, we hadn't talked much since though I just figured that was because he was shy. I even left school early to get ready and spent hours meticulously pinning every hair into place and adjusting my navy blue satin dress so it would drape across my body in just the right way.

My sister, Naomi was an aspiring makeup artist so I let her dust my eyelids in silver glitter, I forced Warren to drive me. All of that was just for me to get stood up. Conner hadn't texted me all day, I knew he wasn't coming that didn't stop me from forcing denial on myself. "Hey," I heard a soft voice sound behind me, I wasn't surprised to see Ellie. Even though our parents were no longer friends, we were close as ever.

"Hi," My voice was hushed and feeble.

"The dance started an hour ago," She said, that night she had been wearing a white button-up with a pair of jeans and her hair half up. It was clear the dance wasn't as big a deal to her as it was to me. All she had done was ask Riley to go with her and call it a day. Despite her lack of effort, she looks beautiful as ever "I don't think he's coming," She said bluntly.

That's the exact moment I felt myself crack, tears welled up in my eyes and I lurched forward to hug her, flailing my arms helplessly to search for comfort "Then why did he ask me to go with him?" My sobs were drowned out by the sound of Kesha blasting in the overcrowded gym.

"I don't know, but he's an idiot for standing you up," Ellie holds me close and I never want her to let go "I wouldn't have ever done that to you."

16 years old- Grade Eleven

This is where things begin to fall apart. I found Ellie on the back porch of some random guy's house at a party. "I figured I would find you out here," I say, taking a seat next to her on the wooden steps, I hug my knees close to my chest.

"What's up?" Beside me, Ellie is unnervingly calm, she nurses a joint, taking a long hit and letting the smoke turn to clouds.

"Conner kissed me," I say cutting to the chase

I can tell she doesn't like the thought, she hated Conner, ever since he stood me up at the winter formal but she bites her tongue "You guys gonna date?"

"I think so."

"Good for you."

"I don't know if I liked it," My eyebrows are furrowed, and I pull my knees in even further, inhaling the crisp autumn air and the smell of Ellie, she smells like cannabis, firewood and bar soap.

"What do you mean?" Ellie puts out the end of her joint and tucks what remains of it into an empty Altoids container.

"Nothing," I dismiss it, "It doesn't matter, I just wanted to talk to you," Ellie had softened every burden for me since we were girls. "Um, so, my parents are sending me to boarding school next year."

"No, they're not-

"They are."

Ellie doesn't seem so calm anymore, she adjusts her body to face mine and she's so close I swear to god I could've counted every freckle on her face. "Why, what did you do?" The way she looks at me makes me wish that she was a boy.

"Nothing!" I retort "They think I'm straying from god, it's a Christian school." That was my code for 'they think I have a crush on you and I rather not get disowned by my super religious parents!'

"come stay with me and Joel-

"Ellie, please," I place a hand on her thigh "I don't think I can get away from this one."

That was at the end of September, it only got worse from there. I partially wished that I didn't tell Ellie that I had to leave, every time we hung out it just felt like words were hanging between us like birds on a wire and neither of us could say what we wanted. I forced myself to distance myself from her, I didn't know how else to handle my feelings.

She would blow up my phone and come by my house even visit my work but I just told her that I was busy. I could tell that she didn't believe my excuses for a second, she had English with my new boyfriend, Conner and would get him to relay messages and notes to me.

It didn't get easier to ignore her, my family prying about where she had been. I never told my parents that Ellie was gay, though I know they had always had a suspicion and that's why they could never love her all the way completely, the way Joel loved me and looked out for me. My mom and dad liked that I swapped out Ellie for Conner, by February, my dad even started to call him son.

In March Ellie and I had stopped talking completely, she gave up on texting me and coming by my house just for my siblings to lie about my whereabouts. It hurt to see the resentment gleam in her eye every time she passed me in the hallway.

She didn't speak a word to me until the start of the summer bonfire which was custom in our town. If I had known she would be there I never even would have thought about going. I rather not rehash this awful night, not right now just know that it ended with some alcohol, a bit of blood in the sand and me telling Ellie 'I would pick him over you every single time.' Yikes, that's not a good look for me. I spent the rest of my summer burying her in the back of my mind until boarding school finally came upon me and I graduated with friends I didn't like in a place that didn't feel like home.

I was sixteen then now I'm nineteen, no longer a girl but not yet a woman. Those were some key moments of our friendship. I'm not so sure why I felt so mature at the age of sixteen. I had taken a gap year and loved every minute of it, I backpacked in Australia, worked as a camp counsellor in the summer then left to work at a turtle conservatory in Bali, I was making pennies but the experience was worth it.

I arrived at my new home sunkissed with Ellie far in the back of my mind. I didn't know much about who I would be rooming with, I had only spoken to Dina over a Zoom call who was a friendly girl with warm eyes and ink-black hair spilling over her shoulders. I just prayed that none of them were Craigslist killers.

It took me entirely too long to find parking, when I finally did, I grabbed two of my suitcases, unable to hold anything else, the rest of the boxes jammed into my car would have to wait. I read over the text that Dina sent me what seemed to be a million times to make sure I had the right address. It was a small-ish one-story flat with brown walls that had white accents along corners and the doorway with a wood-panelled gable roof. As far as college housing went, I was happy. It looked like something I would've made in the Sims when I was a teenager.

I walk to the front door, the entrance is framed by intricately carved moulding, its details telling a story of craftsmanship and tradition. The wood, polished to a warm, inviting glow, exudes a sense of richness and history. I knocked on the door and heard a voice shouting that she would get it.

The door swings open and I'm met face to face with Dina "Hey!" She smiled "It's nice to meet you, I think you'll like it here," She held the door wide open, motioning for me to go in, and I obliged. "Let me give you a tour." Dina is clad in sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt and her hair has been pulled back into a messy ponytail.

The layout of the house seemed somewhat odd to me, there was a corridor straight ahead when you walked in, the first room was the laundry room and contained the washer and dryer with some hampers and shelves of detergent and laundry freshener. "This is the laundry room, we have a wash schedule along with a chore schedule so we will put you on that tonight," Dina told me, I just nodded politely in response feeling a little too awkward and out of place to say anything.

"Alright so this is the kitchen, there's a half bathroom beside it," She says, swinging her arms wide open for exaggeration I can see the chore chart hanging on the walls, it's written in chalk, and it is the laundry schedule. There are little laminated tags with each person's name on them, though I can't quite make out the names from where I am standing. The fridge is covered in postcards, magazine cutouts, polaroids, and bright magnets of papayas and flowers, I automatically assumed this was Dina despite not knowing the other roommates. The kitchen is open with no walls to hide it, the oven and dishwasher are built into counters against the walls as well as the sink which i spotless at the moment, there isn't a dining table but a kitchen island with stools. Past the island you can see the living room, there are two grey couches with decorative pillows and fuzzy throw blankets, a coffee table that looked handcrafted with care and of course a TV.

Have I mentioned there are plants everywhere? Like everywhere. "Okay, so," Dina keeps on moving and I trail behind with my suitcases, over there is my room and Cat's and Abby's," She points to the left of the living room where there is a short hallway with three doors, one on each wall of it. "There's Cat now," She waves at her roommate.

Cat is relatively tall, she has black hair that's tied into a bun, and she's wearing plaid pyjama pants and a black tank top, I can see her abundance of tattoos. She has one sleeve of laurel cascading up her arm and the other is patchwork done right, each separate piece blends almost seamlessly into the next. "I like your tattoos," I say, not wanting to sit in any more silence.

She grins at me "Thanks, love," I nod in response to her, Cat looks down at the suitcases that I'm lugging around "Dina, take this poor girl to her room already."

"I was just getting there," Dina teases and motions for me to follow her "So over here is the bathroom and of course your room, I left your copy of the house key on your mattress," She opens it up. The bedroom is completely blank aside from the boxed bedframe, shelf, vanity and mattress that I had to send over prior. There's a built-in closet in the wall.

I put my suitcases on the ground "I'm gonna grab the rest of my stuff from my car," I offer up a tight-lipped smile.

"Wait a second," She takes my hand and then knocks on the bedroom door parallel to mine. "I'm coming in!" Dina announces pushing the door open, there's a brunette girl hunched over her desk. My breath hitches in my throat when she turns around "This is Ellie."

I can see the panic that momentarily takes over Ellie when she spots me before it's replaced by a false coolness, "Hey," She says before turning back to her laptop and putting her headphones back on. It felt like my heart had shut down, why the fuck did I sign the lease?

"Sorry," Dina shuts Ellie's door "She's not the friendliest of the bunch but she'll warm up to you eventually," Dina walks to the front door with you Abby should be around here somewhere."

I had gotten so frustrated trying to set up my bed frame that I sheepishly left my room and asked for help, god bless Abby. She was putting everything together so easily, I watched her in awe as she finished adding the final screw to my bedframe. "Want help setting up the mattress?"

"Yes, please," I say, I grab one end of the mattress while Abby gets the other, she tells me to lift on three and I listen, she carries the majority of the weight but it still feels like an accomplishment on my part. "So does everyone here go to Northridge?"

"Yeah, except for Cat, she's a tattoo apprentice."

"Cool, cool," I search for words, "What are you majoring in?"

"Kinesiology," It makes sense, I could've called that by looking at the fit gym rat who was now sitting on my bed. "You?"

"Wildlife biology,"

"So you like animals and conservation and stuff?"

"Mhm," I nod "It's honestly kind of hard to not have any animals in my life." I was missing all my pets back home, when I wasn't with them I was working at a conservatory or at a summer camp where I took care of all of the horses, and Ellie's dog, Achilles.

"You'll get used to it, living with Dina is the same thing as living with an animal," She smiles and for the first time, I feel comfortable. Abby watching me with her blue eyes as I begin to unpack my abundance of boxes, I kind of just dump everything onto the ground because I can't remember which box has what, the first thing I search for are my coat hangers. I dump out a box with a bible, wall cross, and rosery and golden cross necklace from a box of random knickknacks. "You religious?"

"Kind of?" I question it myself "Not really, it's just my family, I packed that stuff to make my mom happy."

Abby nods "I get it."

"You do?"

She backtracks "No, but I can try to."

I shake my head, "I wouldn't try if I were you, I spent nineteen years trying to get away from it." I was sure other Christian homes were healthy but mine wasn't one of them, the way my parents obsessed over Jesus was honestly frightening.

"Hey, do you wanna come watch a movie when your done unpacking?" Abby asked, "Get to know your new roommates a little better."

I don't entirely want to, I wasn't ready to talk to Ellie. I still hadn't wrapped my head around the fact that I was living with her and that she was pretending she didn't know me, despite this, my words betrayed me "For sure."

I sat on one of the couches beside Abby, I made myself as small as I could, thinking that maybe I could make myself disappear. Cat and Ellie crammed themselves on the other while Dina took the plush armchair. I felt so out of place everyone here had relationships, I had one with Ellie before I severed it 'Grown Ups' was playing on the flatscreen though it seemed I was the only one paying attention.

The four girls all laughed and talked their way through the movie, Abby, Cat, and Dina would ask me a question here and there but I didn't know them well enough to pitch in. I kept telling myself that I needed to push through, if Spiderman could do it, so could I.

I didn't even finish the movie, halfway through I excused myself saying I was tired which wasn't necessarily a lie. It was difficult to fathom how well Ellie was playing it off, acting like she never met me. I walk into the bathroom, clean towel in hand, ready to scrub off the stress of today. Beside the mirror, I see a cardstock poster decorated with bright markers and doodles.

HOUSE RULES

#1 No underwear left in the bathroom

#2 Wash your dishes

#3 Break it? Tell Abby

#4 No smoking inside

#5 Privates are private!

#6 Pls don't drink and drive (We have a couch)

#7 Give your beloved roommates a heads up before having someone over

#8 This is a residence of women so the seat goes down!!!

#9 Respect the bedrooms

#10 Having sex? Keep it quiet

#11 NO DRAMA!!!!!!!!

#12 Follow chore and wash chart

#13 Don't eat what's not yours! (Without asking)

I finish reading the last bit and mutter to myself "Wasn't planning on it." I run the water so hot that it feels cold and I'm quick to not use all of the hot water and have my roommates hate me on my first night here. Everyone has their little drawers in the bathroom, mine is empty aside from some floss and cotton pads that the girl before me left behind. I make a mental note to make use of my bathroom drawer tomorrow and fill it with makeup remover or conditioner, or something like that.

Brushing my teeth and wrapping myself in a strawberry towel that I had purchased at a craft fair, I open the bathroom door, I can see the light of the TV and the sound of chatter from the living room. However, I ignore it and make a B-line to my bedroom. Even though I had spent hours unpacking and pinning up posters it still didn't seem homey.

I slip into shorts and a t-shirt, leaving my hair as is and throw myself onto my bed. My towel is discarded onto my bathroom floor. When I turn on my phone I am bombarded my messages from my parents, my mother has probably sent me twelve Google pins to the closest churches, I answer her with a thumb-up emoji and settle into my bed to scroll through social media and see how much fun all of my friends are having.

Fucking Ellie. She's plaguing my thoughts, I think of what I said to her and it makes me cringe, I want to smother myself with my satin pillow. I don't even have food to eat, grocery shopping wasn't something that I put on my priority list and right about now I was but Ellie, god, why was I such a dick? Because I didn't know what else to do- whatever, I was a scared teenager. What would you have done? Probably kiss her you lesbo.

Lord, it makes me sick to think about what could've been.

15 years old- Grade Ten

Ellie and I were sitting at a fire pit at her uncle Tommy's lake house. It was a Fourth of July party except we were the only teenagers there; everyone else was friends of Tommy and Maria or some distant relatives of Ellie's or children of said people.

After five years of practicing day and night, Ellie had just about mastered the acoustic guitar, she played and I sang, wrapped up in her flannel, I was tucked close next to her.

She struck every cord perfectly and I began to sing absentmindedly, the song that had been carved into my brain. Ellie looked so insanely beautiful illuminated only by fire and the stars that hung in the sky, if it hadn't been a sin I would've kissed her.

Talking to her felt as holy as praying to god but I knew it was as sinful as worshipping the devil.

If it was so wrong why was I born in God's image?

Her gentle hand strummed on the chords of the guitar, the same calloused hand that had once turned water into wine. Her laughter was the sound of a church choir

I wish I told her how much I liked her but what would've happened if I did? What would my parents think, they would kill me.

Part of me didn't care how my parents would react, if I spoke up, I could say goodbye to my inheritance and having college paid for. Maybe that was an unfair assumption to make on my part. Ugh. FUCK, I don't know, let's get to the next part of the story.

I couldn't sleep that night, I thought maybe a glass of water would soothe me, well I didn't really think that but I was hungry and thirsty and water was the only thing in that house I had the right to ingest. I figured that I could fill myself with water and zip to Denny's in the morning then grab some groceries.

Poking my head out of my door, I checked to see if anyone was still awake before gingerly taking hushed steps towards the kitchen, I was trying to be as light as Thumbelina. I hadn't noticed Ellie bumming on the couch, scrolling through her phone.

"You cooking all of that non-existent food you brought?" She jeered. Oh, now she wanted to talk to me.

"I was gonna have some warm water soup for dinner and chew on pistachio shells from the cup holder in my car for dessert," I answer "I'm treating myself tonight." She didn't think it was funny at all, a few years ago she would've been cackling at my subpar joke, but now she just seemed unamused. "Sheesh, tough crowd."

She stays silent.

"You used to think I was funny," I say.

"I also used to think the tooth fairy was real."

"Harsh," I mutter. Turning the tap on and sticking a finger underneath it to test the temperature. I put my hummingbird mug underneath it and let it fill. "Hey, Ellie," She doesn't answer "Have you told them any bad things about me?"

She nearly scoffs "No, believe it or not, I don't talk about you, I don't even think about you," There's venom in her voice "You haven't crossed my mind since you walked through that door."

"Why are you pretending you don't know me-

"Because I don't fucking like you," She says it like it's so obvious and it honestly is in this moment "Just because you're pretty and you act like a sweet little Christain girl, that doesn't mean shit."

"I'm not trying to act like anything-

"Yeah, well it seems pretty insincere to me," Ellie seethed and I could feel a sting in my heart, I would do some pretty horrendous things for a time machine right about now. I can tell that there won't be any salvaging for this, she hates me to death and rightfully so.

This is where I give up "Okay, sorry," I grab my hummingbird mug and retreat to my room.

I endured four months of that.

Ellie was pushed to the back of my mind while I ran through classes and got a job as a waitress at a stake house. I did everything in my power to keep myself busy, to keep her out of my head but she was always there, she hung around like a song I can't shake, like I'm haunted by the melody.

Some nights when the city decides to quiet down I can hear her play guitar, and I'll quietly hum along to it. Songs she used to sing for me, she now sings for another woman, another soul. I knew that she had girls over, but I never got to meet them as Ellie did everything in her power to pretend I didn't exist.

The only communication I got with her was in the roommate's group chat, and it was always brief.

Ellie: Having a friend over tomorrow night

D-manz: Friend? With benefits??????????

Kit-Cat: Nah they're hardly even friends, just benefits

Abs: Don't get her pregnant

Me: 👍

As long as I was with the girls, Ellie was not. She avoided me like the plague, it was like she despised my existence. If we go clubbing, she takes a separate taxi, petty if you ask me. The girls knew something happened between us but they couldn't pinpoint what it was. It was Dina's conspiracy that Ellie used to date one of my friends and broke her heart. While I bonded with Cat, Dina, and Abby, Ellie would pretend to like me. She would occasionally laugh at my jokes or ask how my shift was when Dina was in the room.

Trust me when I say I would rather forget than dwell on it but it was impossible. I know that I'm nothing more than an obstacle to her, a stain on her bedsheets, a sore in her mouth, but she was still my diamond in the rough. I will willingly ignore all of her cutthroat words and her jagged edges.

Because I know everything about us.

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shewrites7 · 9 months

Text

The First Step

carmen berzatto x fem!reader

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

type - one shot (its a long one)

word count [16.6k]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Richie, I swear to God-"

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

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

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

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

"Yeah, I'm-"

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Two words, Cousin. Mars Bar."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded, playful in your words.

"I mean it." You did.

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

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

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

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

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

"No."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mars Bar!

"Hello? Who is this?"

It's me.

"..."

Richie.

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

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

"What? Start work? Where?"

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

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

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

"What are you saying?"

I'm saying, you got the job kid!

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

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

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

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

"He ... he is?"

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

"Y-yea I guess so."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Carm."

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

"Carmy."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Carmen sputtered. "How the fuck is it-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"She can't work here."

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

"I fucking will."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You did a great job, Chef."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

All you could say was, "Oh?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Alright."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Okay, yeah."

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

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

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

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

"Yeah. See you, Mars."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What is the end?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Nothing is going on in here."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Okay, on it, Chef."

"Great. Oh, and-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was definitely speaking to you now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So much for not giving in to Carmen Berzatto.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You uhm- did you get my note?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smiled. "Who told you that?"

"Sugar."

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

"Carmen."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Carmen, I understand. But-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Have you?" you snapped back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah, I- I feel it."

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

He nodded. He'd do anything for you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Something like it."

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

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

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

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

"I'm sorry, Mars."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I, um,"

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

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

"I promise."

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

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

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

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

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

"What? Why?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Can you promise me one more thing?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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diejager · 3 months

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Hey if your comfortable with it, could you do childhood best friend Johnny (soap) CNC?

It's totally ok if not!

Cw: Consensual non-con/CNC, DUB-CON, safe words, creampie, childhood friend!Johnny, unprotected sex, PinV, tell me if I missed any.

He smothered you, pressing you into the couch of your shared flat with sloppy kisses, his mouth finding yours over and over again despite your avoidance, turning your face away from him. You fought against him, hands pushing his chest, straining against his strength and arms wrapped around your waist, gripping onto you tightly. His arms only tightened the more you fought, twisting and turning to free yourself from him, feet hanging from his shoulder and breasts jostling from his erratic pace.

“Hang- hang on! Johnny sto-”

You couldn’t get a word out with the hard shove of his cock, body rocking back and forth. You let out a shaky moan, your body burning with how hot Johnny ran, his musk - a mix of sweat, gunpowder and soothing teakwood - clogging up your nose. It played with your mind, completely drowning you in him, you couldn’t think clearly and you couldn’t fight him. You words - complaints - were forced out as breathless whimpers, mewls and keens rather than hisses and sneers.

“Johnny!”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your body growing taunt under him as you sunk your nails into his shoulders, feet kicking and hips bucking upwards. He groaned, pain and pleasure had long become one of the same in his mind, the bruises and bloody, crescent moons painting his back and shoulders, the marks of your writhing body beneath him - whether you agreed to it or not - and your pleasure drunk face.

He rutted against you, slick dripping down your ass and dirtying his navel with wet claps, splashing your cum everywhere. He drove in with sharp thrusts, feeling your walls fluttering around him as he grazed your sweet spot before hitting home, the bulbous head of his erect and engorged head tapping your cervix as often as he swallowed your cries, lips draped over you and teeth nipping at your lower lip.

Your squirming and fidgeting were a breeze to control, utilising his trained and cultured mass to hold you down and devour you with his whole being. You whined with every snap of his hips, the hard muscles of his abdomen rippling in a show of power and strength —overpowering and dominating. You were small under him (you used to stand taller than him in your early days of high school when his puberty had yet to strike, ruffling his hair and letting him hang off of you like you did as children), weak and vulnerable, something he so easily overpowered to get what he wanted.

Your lashes fluttered when you came, your pretty cunt clamping down on him as his pace stuttered, moaning lowly as a wave of undeniably strong pleasure washed over him. He kissed you then, tongue pushed down your throat, muffling the most filthy and most erotic groan you’d ever heard rumbling out of his throat. You felt heavy - tired - with his girth laying half-hard inside of you as the slit shot out ropes of cum, his thick, white load painting your walls and invading your womb.

“Colour, Bonnie lass,” his voice was raspy, hoarse from panting and gasping, feeling the lingering pulse and twitch of your walls around him, making him throb with need. Soap’s refractory time had always been fast, as overzealous has his character, his charm and smile playing into it to woo you to love your childhood friend.

“Green,” you were no better than him, chest rising and falling with laboured breaths despite doing nothing but take his roughness, clinging onto him to press kisses to his jaw and temple, coated in salty sweat that tingled on your tongue, “Just, just give me a minute, yeah, Johnny?”

“Aye.”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @kaelysian @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 2 months

Text

HOME || CHILDHOOD BFF! SIMON 💔

Summary:

Teen Simon and his best friend often spend their nights away from their respective houses because they found a home in each other…

Pairing:

teen!Simon x teen!F!reader

Content Warnings:

This fic gets dark. It references Simon's backstory (from '09), child abuse, domestic violence, child death, arguments, injuries, abandonment issues, drugs, sex, alcohol, youth homelessness, etc.

Check every chapters' tags/cw for specific warnings.

Chapters:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Canon Ending (Hurt/No Comfort):

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Non-Canon Ending (Hurt/Comfort):

Alternative Ending

Extras:

Home: Moodboard

Home: Playlist

1st Attempt at a Happy Ending (I don't like it)

[MY MASTERLIST]

#ikea writes 💚#home cbf!simon fic #cod fanfic #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #cbf #childhood best friends to lovers #teenage love #physical injuries #cod au #masterlist #teenage rebellion #teen romance #fluff #angst #hurt/no comfort #star crossed lovers

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heartstopperthoughts · 1 year

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MY LOVES

#I’ve always said that if Heartstopper didn’t exist yet #and I’d just read Solitaire and Radio Silence #and you asked me if I wanted a graphic novel about Nick and Charlie or Aled and Dan #I would pick Aled and Dan #obvs I love Heartstopper and Nick and Charlie #but there’s something so special about Aled and Dan #childhood best friends to lovers #the god tier trope #radio silence #solitaire #heartstopper #nick and charlie #nick x charlie #nick nelson #charlie spring #aled and daniel #aled last #daniel jun

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nerak-01 · 4 months

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"I love you- NOT~!!" (PART 1)

childhood bestfriend/crush katsuki bakugo x hopeless romantic reader

synopsis: Love is so addictive. You know, even when you've never really felt it. The feeling of being in love is even worse when your counterpart doesn't reciprocate.

tw: female reader, cursing, angst, heartbreak, bakugo being oblivious/a little insensitive, crying, reader relying on herself

author's notes: REPOST; BUT GET EXCITEDD CUZ PART 2 IS GETTING POSTED SOON!! I'm so sorry this has taken me so long. Writing block + workload + no romance = absolute sadness. UGH! NEW YEAR, NEW ME!! Happy 2024, Darlings!

wrd count: 800+ not edited!

Katsuki Bakugo and you go way back. It all started in grade school when you first caught sight of the brooding child, Bakugo.

You were supposed to focus on learning how to add and subtract fractions, but instead, your attention drifted to the boy sitting next to you. Your desk mate was laser focused on the lesson as his garnet red eyes seemed to bore into the teacher's. It gave you the perfect opportunity to judge this potential friend. He had wild blonde hair that somehow looked neat, framing his chubby cheeks. He had a button nose, cute. You concluded that your desk buddy was adorable, and he would be an excellent first friend. Oh, if only you knew.

From an adorable childhood in the suburbs, to an awkward and moody middle school period, and then a slight reflection in high school, Katsuki Bakugo had changed alongside you. You saw Bakugo go from his messy blonde locks, to spikes. He saw you change from an awkward bangs stage to a more defined hair part. Your friendship bloomed as the two of you were able to confide in one another as the years passed. Bakugo got sassier, and you shot back the same attitude. You differed when it came to feelings. That became abundantly clear when puberty and dating became a middle school topic. Bakugo used to talk to you about how girls were annoying and unbearable. He said he never would understand the appeal of dating. You dumbly nodded along, as if your heart wasn't hammering in your chest every time Bakugo Katsuki was in the vicinity. It was like your heart was a professional Bakugo tracker. Perhaps that's when you should have realized that you were in too deep.

All the same, high school left you high and dry. U.A was a challenge in and of itself, but adding rocky childhood feelings wasn't exactly ideal. Especially when Bakugo began to realize that he was a little more interested in relationships as he got older. You remember one instance as clear as day...

"Hey, Y/n, I'm waiting for someone, don't fucking wait up," Bakugo muttered. He didn't make direct eye contact with you. You swear you could make out the faintest pink blush on his cheeks.

"Oh? You got a special someone finally?" Y/n laughed. You hoped your tone sounded teasing and not sour. You wondered if Bakugo would ever realize how your lip wobbles or how you fidgets anxiously with your shirt whenever he talked about relationships. He was so observant unless it came to feelings.

"You could say that. I'm going out with Mina, one on one." Bakugo always did this when he was nervous. His answers became more brief and he seemed more guarded.

"Listen, big guy, you got this. I'm sure Mina and you will have a blast. I don't know, give her some Katsuki charm~!" You winked while pointing finger guns at him.

"Piss off!" Bakugo rolled his eyes, but you know you saw a slight smile right before. Your silliness worked as his hands relaxed from balled fists. Suddenly, his eyes seemed to dart to the approaching pink figure. Katsuki exhaled loudly, as if trying to ground himself.

You turn around and watch Mina with him. You understand why Bakugo was interested in her; she was fierce, outgoing, bubbly, easy on the eyes, and you assumed her curves helped. Whatever the reason, when you looked at Bakugo again, his eyes seemed to shine in a way he never could with you. His perfect pink lips parted slightly like he was in a trance by her.

"I wonder if I'll ever have that effect on a guy," you mumbled quietly. You didn't mean to let it slip out, but judging by Bakugo's zombie state, you doubt he's even listening to you.

"What did you say?" Bakugo asked, still not looking back at you.

"Nothing, have a good date." With that, you left Bakugo to head back to your dorm, by yourself, for the first time in a year. As you walked, you wondered if he ever knew you like you patiently grew to know him. You knew he had a mole on the left side of his growing adam's apple; you knew his top twenty hero list by heart; and most importantly, you knew exactly when Bakugo first fell in love with a real girl. At the very moment and forever more, Ashido Mina was the first girl Bakugo truly had a crush on.

You're not sure when your cheeks got damp, but you noticed you were crying when your nose was runny. Unlike the past, Bakugo would always be there to call you 'stupid' and wipe away your tears with his callous hands. Now, you sat alone in your dorm room, sobbing in one of his old t-shirts. You had this since you were in grade seven. Bakugo grown quickly, but his All-Might t-shirt was one of the first ever gifts he gave you himself.

Even thinking about him now hurts your head. To think someone who caused you so much grief, could still be the one you cherished most.

#bakugo x reader #childhood best friends to lovers #mha angst #mha bakugou #mha x reader #boku no hero academia #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader

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whenlilyfallsinlove · 28 days

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the three times you and georgie cooper were jealous of each other and the one time you acted on it

a/n: ahh first post!! i was actually watching young sheldon while writing this :) sad it's the last season but excited for georgie and mandy spin off!! anyway felt like there was a lack of georgie x readers so wrote this with my fav trope! enjoy!

i - the time when veronica duncan punched georgie in the face

"and then... she punched me in the face!" your best friend georgie recounted to you, as you sat on the front porch of his house, a can of beer in both your hands.

"she punched you in the face, in front of everyone?!" you chuckle, raising an eyebrow.

"yeah.." he replied.

"no way! what did you even do?!" you take a sip of your beer, looking at him. your best friend georgie was one of your favourite people in the whole world and very good looking, hey! you were allowed to say that!

"i kinda.. told her i loved her. in front of the whole church." georgie muttered, slightly flustered.

"you what?!" you spluttered, hardly believing a word he was saying.

georgie saw the look on your face.

"hey i'm not lying!" he says, chuckling.

"what did you expect?!?! poor girl. you barely know her georgie!" you laugh teasingly, this boy really was something else. you had grown up alongside the boy and everything he did even to this day still surprised you.

"i know but i'm bummed by it.. i really like her y/n." he looks at you with wide eyes. he sounded... serious?

this stopped you laughing.

"you really like her huh?" you look at him, encouraging him to say more.

"yeah.. look" georgie sighs, taking a swig of his beer. "i've never felt this way about any girl before. ever."

oh. why did this feel like a massive kick in the stomach? your insides had gone all funny.

"oh.." you mutter, looking down. "didn't realise you were that serious."

"yeah.. i need to make it up to her, i care about her.. even if she don't about me" georgie sighs.

woah he really seemed to care about her. why did this aggravate you so much? veronica was a nice girl, pretty and kind.. even if she did (rightfully) punch him in the face. she was good to your best friend. so why didn't you feel supportive?

"don't worry georgie.." you reach out and comfortingly pat his arm "she's a nice girl, she'll forgive you."

he smiles and wraps his arm round you "thanks y/n, you're the best friend ever, ya know that?"

"yep.. what would you do without me." you chuckle, nervously.

friend. why did him referring to you as that make you feel queasy? that's what you were, right? best friends? this felt weird though.. different.

you suddenly felt sick.

"look i gotta get home.. got a lot of homework" you stand, trying to ignore the feelings you were currently having.

"going so soon l/n?" georgie grins.

"yeah sorry.." you chuckle "good luck with the veronica thing anyway.. i'll see you tomorrow."

"see ya" he smiles and waves you off.

you wave back and walk down the street to your house, thinking about what had just happened.

the sickness feeling, the disgust, the small bit of sadness you felt when georgie said he'd never felt that way before

then it sunk in. you were jealous. fuck!

ii - the time that guy from your spanish class asked you out

spanish was somehow both your favourite and least favourite class. i mean you hated the class - you were awful at it but you got to sit next to georgie in it.. so maybe it wasn't too bad.

today started like any other spanish lesson. you listened to the teacher drone on about grammar, you and georgie had a footsie war under the table etc. everything was normal. that was until the end of the lesson.

you were packing away your notebooks, listening to georgie babble on about football when adam, the boy who sat in front of you, approached you.

"hey y/n" adam smiled shyly at you,

"oh uh hey adam" you said friendly enough, but very confused on why he was speaking to you.

you weren't the only one confused. next to you, georgie had been interrupted by this exchange and had stopped talking, now listening, his eyebrow raised.

"uh i was wondering.. if you'd like to see the new ghostbusters movie with me tomorrow night.. its okay if not, i understand." adam chuckled nervously.

georgie frowned at this. who did this adam guy think he was, asking you out to the movies? he didn't even know you! who asks someone out that they don't even know.. this guy was a total weirdo. there was no way you were gonna say yes.

"um.. okay" you interrupted his train of thought. adam was quite handsome, and seemed nice. and although it was bad to admit, you needed a distraction from the unknown feelings you were having for your best friend.

your answer shocked georgie. why on earth did you say yes? did you feel bad for him or something.. or maybe you just wanted to see the new ghostbusters? he would've taken you if that was the case! not this idiot.

"oh good. i'll pick you up at 7 tomorrow then?" adam smiles at you, and god georgie wanted to punch him.

"yeah okay." you smile back, and watched as he waved at you then left class.

"well that was.." you turn to georgie, who is not looking at you but is looking straight ahead.

"let's go to lunch." georgie ignores you and starts walking off.

"oh okay" you mutter, then follow him.

georgie was mad. this guy didn't deserve you, he was definitely punching! you were beautiful and deserved someone way better. someone like.. him! but no you were best friends.. he couldn't ruin that. but the more he thought about it the more he realised he was jealous.

you were his, not that adams! that was the day georgie cooper realised he liked you, his best friend.

iii- the time georgie ditched you to hang out with jana boggs

every summer, you tagged along with the coopers (well more so georgie but you had long since been accepted as a member of the familt) to the carnival set up by pastor jeff and the church.

every year, you and georgie usually went off together and did your own thing but this year was different. georgie had been dating jana for a while now and of course it was only normal for him to not hang with you as much and you shouldn't get mad at him for wanting to spend time with her.. right?

"oh look.. jana's over there." georgie chuckles, awkwardly looking to where his girlfriend was stood.

"yep." you reply.

"and she looks.. pretty lonely" georgie states, again awkwardly.

"uh huh" you nod.

"maybe she needs someone to talk to?" he says.

"hey i get the hint, you go hang with her.. she's your girlfriend after all, i'll stay here with missy" you try and say encouragingly, but your voice wobbles slightly.

"really?!" george smiles.

"yeah!" you reply.

"you're the best" he gives you a tight hug. "i owe you one!"

"don't worry" you say, watching him walk off to jana " that's what friends are for" you mutter.

you look to the ground. it felt like it was time to finally accept that you liked georgie a lot. and not just as a friend.

"that was pretty sad to watch" missy speaks up, looking at you half sympathetically, half in enjoyment.

"well i'm glad my sad life gives you joy." you let out a weak laugh.

"look i've always liked you y/n, you're cool, and i've always thought you can do wayyy better than my dumb brother" she tries to comfort you.

"well thanks." you smile.

"and just so you know... i think georgie likes you back. he's just stupid.. and scared." missy smiles.

"i hope that's the case." you smile back.

as you watch georgie laugh along with jana, you couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy.

you really liked your best friend.

iv - the time where missy matchmakes.

"georgie.. please please please can you take me and marcus to the movies tonight" missy begged, standing in georgie's doorway.

"missy.. i'm supposed to be hanging with y/n tonight." georgie frowned, secretly he had hoped tonight would be the night he might finally confess to you.

"bring her with you! she loves me." missy smiles smugly.

"we'll see." georgie sighs.

four hours later, georgie, y/n and missy were in the car, going to pick marcus up. georgie didn't take much convincing after learning it would entail missy and her boyfriend being alone, and you were quick to accept to come with.

"so missy.. how serious are you and marcus?" you ask, turning round and smiling at her.

"we're kinda serious.. we've held hands a bunch and hugged. we haven't kissed.. but we've shared a straw" she replies, subtly bragging.

"oh wow pretty serious then." you chuckle. georgie smiles at you. he loved that you got on so well with his family, it was something he'd always liked about you.

there was silence for a while.

"can i ask you guys a personal question?" missy breaks the silence.

"umm sure" georgie responds as you nod.

"so you're both single..."

"thanks for the reminder" you smile playfully.

"and i know jana broke up with georgie because of you y/n.."

"how do you know that" georgie exclaims, confused.

"i know everything." missy deadpans. "and i also heard you on the phone to each other."

"anyway.." she continues "why don't you just date each other? it's very clear that you like each other, everyone can see it. it's simple." she says, proudly.

both your eyes widen. you were not expecting that. you start uncomfortably laughing and turn to look at georgie.

georgie was looking straight forward , avoiding eye contact.

"well.." you start "i don't think i'm georgie's type.."

"you kidding?" georgie exclaims. "not my type? of course you are! i compare every girl i ever meet to you!"

you sat shocked. what. the. hell.

"you do?" you look at him.

"of course i do. i like you a lot y/n." georgie blushes, avoiding eye contact.

your heart stopped. finally!!

"oh really? georgie i also like you a lot!" you smile, brightly.

"you do?" georgie grins.

"yeah of course i do! i have for ages.. i was jealous of jana.. and damn this was ages ago but i was jealous of veronica as well!" you chuckle.

"no way!! i was jealous of that adam guy! and pretty much any other guy who talked to you as well!" georgie replies, smirking.

you smile.

"i was just too nervous to say anything." you say.

"holy shit, me too!" georgie agrees.

you reach over and touch his shoulder. he smiles back. and at that moment although it sounded cheesy, it did really feel like a moment from a romcom.

"aww that was real cute guys." missy smiles.

"but don't you dare say any of that cheesy stuff when marcus is in the car!"

#georgie cooper #georgie cooper x reader #x reader #georgie cooper x you #young sheldon #young sheldon x reader #georgie cooper x y/n #missy cooper #childhood best friends to lovers #mary cooper #sheldon cooper #george cooper

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secretsofafangirll · 1 month

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you're still my favorite girl - vol. two

pairing: chris sturniolo x fem!oc

summary: after chris and his childhood best friend reveal their true feelings for one another, they end up going to bed beside one another hot and bothered. what happened when they wake up and those feelings, physically and emotionally, never went away?

//t.w// smut, soft!dom chris, sub!oc, , fingering,, use of "ma'" and "mamas", stomach bulging, mild sub space moment, mild overstimulation, lots of dirty talk.

As the morning sun drew brighter and higher in the sky, it crept through the curtains of my bedroom, casting a warm light directly on my eyes. I blinked them open, one at a time, scrunching each open side to help soothe the ache of the alarming brightness.

Upon coming to, I felt a pressure on my chest. Nothing strong or harsh, but a presence in front of me as I lied on my side. My arm lied heavy against a smaller object and I realized the position I was currently in.

With her back pressed against my chest, sweatshirt and pants long gone, my sickly sweet Isabelle Lavigne slept peacefully beside me, her back arched and ass pressed against me. I allowed my hands to slip under the hem of her shirt and travel the expanse of her stomach, reaching to cup her underboob and then all the way back down to her hip. I pressed my hips into hers and hooked my ankle over hers. Pushing her hair away from her neck, I placed a gentle kiss on the warm skin below her ear.

"My beautiful sunshine angel," I whispered to myself. I felt her stir beside me slightly, a whine scratching her throat as her muscles stretched. My hand stopped moving on her stomach as I felt her subconsciously press herself back into me.

"Chris," She croaked with her adorable morning voice, "What are mumbling about?" She questioned, squeezing her eyes shut and rolling onto her back? throwing her forearm onto her forehead.

"Nothin'," I answered, grabbing her wrist and pulling her arm away from her face and pushing her hair out of her eyes, "Just thinkin 'bout how beautiful you are."

"Oh, is that the new thing?" She blinked her eyes open and smiled at me.

"What? Calling you beautiful?" I asked, to which she nodded, "Don't act like that, a new thing, Belle. I've always called you beautiful." My hands roamed the expanse of her body, around her stomach and waist and down to her thighs and knees. I wrapped my hand around her waist and pulled her over and into my side before locking my hand under her knee and pulling her leg over my body.

"Chris.." She drawled out, as her body thumped into mine.

"What? I'm just making sure you're comfortable," I teased. She climbed on top of me, straddling my hips as my hands found hers. They rubbed up and down the length of her sides and down to squeeze her exposed ass. My eyes bore into hers until they closed when I gripped the skin tight enough to bruise. She bit her lip and moaned softly, her back arching making her press her hips down into mine. I could feel how wet she was through her panties.

"Chris, please," She begged, her eyes blinking open and looking so innocent.

"Please, what?" I asked, reaching up to her back to push her chest down to mine. I pressed a kiss against her cheek before finishing, "How am I supposed to know what you want?"

"Don't make me say it," She blushed and turned away from me. My hand wrapped around her jaw, forcing her to look back at me.

"Oh, you know better than that, baby,"

"Please touch me," She finally found the words.

"Not so hard, huh?" I teased, wrapping one arm around her ass and one around her shoulder so that I could flip her over onto her back.

She smiled a cheeky smile before saying, "Well," and gesturing down to bulge in my boxers.

"Shut the fuck up," I breathed, before leaning down to her face and capturing her lips in mine. Her hands found my back and slid up under my shoulders before tickling down my spine. My back arched and my smile broke the kiss.

"I really want to feel your hands on my body ma', I do," I said as I pulled away from the kiss, "but if I'm laughing while I'm trying to kiss you, we're gonna have to put them away. And I really don't want to do that."

"Okay, I'm sorry," She bit her lip.

"One, you have nothing to be sorry for. Two, put that lip back where it belongs." I said and pulled it from between her lips. "Now let's take care of my favorite girl, hm?".

I leaned back from her chest and sat back on my knees but snaked an arm behind her to pull her up with me. I grasped the hem of my hoodie that adorned her body, pausing for a moment to remember this moment. I, Christopher Sturniolo, was about to pull my sweatshirt off of this woman's body to expose my half-naked best friend. What a morning...

Third Person Point of View

Chris slowly bunched the thick material around her waist and over her chest and she raised her arms for her to rip it off. He avoided looking until it was fully gone and she was left in nothing but her underwear. He blinked his eyes down to her breasts and took his time admiring each one. His large hands cupped her B-cup tits and massaged them in his hands. She whined in response and bucked her hips up toward his. One hand dropped her breasts and pushed her hips back down to the bed.

"Patience, ma'," He sighed looking in her eyes before darting his own back to her body, "I wanna take my time with you."

His hands dragged down her stomach and sides and down to her hips where he fiddled with the lacy trim of her panties. He continued to touch her thighs, his fingertips tickling the soft skin. He hooked his hands under her knees and slowly separated her thighs.

Vulnerability took Isabelle over and suddenly grew very nervous. She took in a deep breath, one all too similar to the kind Matt takes when he's getting anxious.

"Hey, you okay?" He checks, releasing a leg and reaching up to cup her cheek.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm good. Just a bit nervous, s'all." She assures.

"Ya' sure?" She nods and he makes his way back down to her thighs. He separated her legs again and allowed his hands to fall down the outside of thighs and to her panties again. He grips the hem of them in his slender fingers and pulls them down and over her knees. He unhooks them from her ankles and tosses them elsewhere. Isabelle's legs instinctively closed again and this time, Chris gripped her knees tightly and threw them apart, "Keep these. Right here. I'm not gonna tell you again."

Chris was always a more dominant person. Within his past relationship, hook-ups, and even friendships, he always took on a dominant, sometimes fatherly role. With Isabelle, he was always very protective and casually dominant. Making sure she ate, tying her shoes for her, and scolding her when necessary. Chris has always imagined how much of a brat or how much of a sub she was in bed and Isabelle has always wondered just how dominant Chris could be. And neither of them could lie, this was exactly what they had hoped for.

"Yes sir," She nodded quickly, swallowing thickly.

Chris' gaze diverted to her most private area. The sight he was met with was heavenly. Entirely bare, smooth and so incredibly wet was his, soon to not be, best friend's pussy. He bit his lip and looked up to the ceiling, silently begging for forgiveness for the thoughts he was having.

"So pretty, baby," He cooed, "So fuckin' gorgeous. And just for me, right?" His voice dropped.

"Yes, yes. Only you. Belongs to you." She whimpered as her hips writhed against the bed. She wanted to, no, she needed him to touch her.

"That's right," He whispered and reached out to drag his fingers through her folds, "So pink and wet and all mine."

His touch lit Isabelle on fire. His fingertips grazed over her clit and her breath hitched in her throat. His cold fingers dragged over her core again and slid down to her entrance, "Gotta open you up a bit first, mama."

She whined as his fingers slid inside of her, going deeper and deeper with every second. The pressure inside of her so foreign, as she hadn't been touched in months, "Chris," she breathed.

"What, baby? Feel good?" He coaxed

"Yes, Chris. You know it does," She breathed as her eyes rolled back behind her eyelids. He continued his work inside of her, curling his fingers and pumping them in and out of her. All she could do was writhe and whimper due to the pleasure coursing through her body and he just watched in awe of her beauty.

"Chris," She gasped, shooting her eyes open, "Chris, I'm gonna cum!" She exclaimed as her legs and hips roamed the bed even more.

"Yeah? You're gonna cum?" She nodded and bit down on her lip as her eyes squinted shut, "Go ahead, mama. Cum on my fingers."

She breathed out swiftly as she tried to suppress her moans and whimpers. She brought her hand down to her mouth and bit down on her wrist. Chris reached up with his free hand and tore it from her mouth, "No no no. I wanna hear my pretty girls' pretty sounds."

His words only amplified the pleasure already upon her and she whimpered even louder, however, she still tried to remain quiet so that Nick and Matt wouldn't hear. Gross. She thought. I'm thinking about his brothers while he's knuckle deep inside of me.

He worked her through her high and her breathing slowed as she gained control of herself once again. Part of her was worried about how overstimulated she would be, but she secretly craved the feeling and the control that he has over her. Once she had come down, he pulled his fingers out of her heat and brought his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean. Isabelle's brows pinned together as she felt herself getting even more worked up. He backed away from her body to pull his own boxers from his legs. Exposing his cock to her.

Holy fuck. She thought. She had always imagined what his dick would look like but she would feel guilty and perverted when her mind went too far. She had always thought it would be big, but not this big.

"God, everything about you is so fuckin' beautiful," He breathed, letting his eyes wander her body, "The way you sound when your moaning and whining," He straightened her legs around his waist, "How your hips move because it just feels too good," He teased her and wrapped his hands around her hips and pulled her closer so that he core was flush with his own, "And your pretty little face when I touch you just right or say what you need to hear. How your eyes get bigger and how you bite your soft, so soft, lips."

"Christopher," She huffed, "Please."

"Alright, alright. I'm gettin' there," He soothed, running the back of his fingers over he cheek, "Just can't get over you."

His right hand grabbed the base of his cock and his left reached to wrap around her right thigh, "Let me know if anything hurts, okay? You understand?" She nodded in response but that wasn't

good enough for him. He tilted his head and pinched her thigh making her yelp, "You know better than that. Use your words."

"Yes, I understand." She spat out quickly, her need becoming more and more apparent.

"Good girl," He dragged his cock through her folds, the feeling of her warm wetness engulfed his tip and his body shuddered at the feeling. He pressed his tip to her entrance just to test the waters and her body seized for a moment. His eyes darted up to her and his eyebrows raised to check on her.

"I'm okay, promise. Please, keep going." She begged and bucked her hips, getting impossible closer to him. Ever so slowly, he pushed further in, working against the resistance he was met with. He tried his best to keep his eyes open as he felt her stretch and squeeze around his size. Once she got just over halfway he felt her body pull back slightly and a whine of pain escaped her lips, "Chris." She whispered with a trembling voice.

"I know, I know," He soothed, bending down to place a chaste kiss on her lips, "Just a little more, hm? Think you can take it?" He ran his hands up and down her thighs.

"Mhm, yes," She whimpered, "Yes, I can take it."

"Know you can, mama." He praised before pushing in all the way. Isabelle moaned in response and Chris jaw fell slack and his eyes slammed shut before a cheeky smirk was planted on his face, "So fuckin' good, ma'" He breathed out while shaking his head. He gave her a moment to adjust to his size. Once she gave him the green light, there was no going back.

He pulled back and slammed back in, watching her body move up and down on the bed. His hands gripped her hips tightly for leverage as he thrusted his length inside of her.

"Oh my God!" She moaned, her eyes pinching shut. He continued his assault on her pussy and watched as her innocent eyes stared up at his dominant ones. He pinched his lip to try and conceal his own moans but he failed miserably. Groans, moans, and whimpers of pleasure fell from his plush lips as he worked his way through her.

"God, you're so fuckin' tight, holy fuck," He groaned and mounted his hands under her thighs to lift them to 90 degrees, then he slid them down to her calves and through them over his shoulder and leaned forward to continue. This new angle had her throwing her head back and moaning loudly.

"Chris, Chris, Chris," She moaned, tears springing to her eyes are the stimulation, "Oh my fucking God." Her hands reached up to cover her face as hot tears fell from her eyes. They were tears of pleasure, but they were tears, nonetheless, and she didn't want him to see her crying. His hands removed their harsh grip from her hips, where there were surely bruises, and they tore her hands away from her face and he pinned them with one hand to the bed. His brows furrowed when he saw the tears but they leveled out when she cried, "Feels so good. So deep."

His eyes traveled down to her core but were stopped when he saw a lump in her lower stomach. He halted his movements inside of her and she sprang up in surprise to ask him why he stopped. When he challenged force with his hand on the shape, her jaw fell open and a high moan tumbled from her mouth. Her hand shot for his wrist to move it but he was much stronger than her. He could feel the force because it was him that was making the lump.

"Yeah? So deep? You feel me here?" He pressed harder, "You feel me in your tummy, taking up all this space?" He taunted and started his thrusts once again. She fell back against the pillows once again, and he allowed her to be his pillow princess. "That's right. Just lay back and let me fuck you, yeah?" He said and his hands found their way back to her hips so that he could pound into her harder.

"Chris, 'm so close," She whimpered and grasped the sheets in her hands.

His eyes stared down into hers, "I know baby, I'm almost there. You just gotta wait a little bit longer."

"I can't Chris," She whimpered, trying to mitigate the overwhelming pleasure that tingles all over her body. Chris' thrusts didn't relent and he worked so hard to chase his building high, "I can't hold it."

"Then, go ahead, ma'," He permitted, "Cum on my cock, baby."

With that, Isabelle's back arched off the bed and her body writhed in Chris' hands. He pushed her back down to the bed and continued to work in and out of her. Her vision clouded and her eyes rang slightly as he was overstimulating her. High pitched whines and whimpers started to fall from her plump lips and he looked up to his eyes in concern.

"It's alright, mama," He laughed and breathed a chuckle at her dependence on him, "I've got you."

Chris high followed shortly after and whines and whimpers fell from her lips as she fucked her through both of their orgasms, "Want my cum inside you, don't you mama? Want me to make you a mama someday, hm?" His mindless, meaningless words didn't register in his brain but they did in hers and her mind clouded at the pleasure she was experiencing. She nodded in response, not even really meaning to.

Chris continued to pump thick ropes of cum into her and once he was done, he plopped down onto her front, leaving his softening cock inside of her to trap the mess they'd made.

"You okay, my girl?" He checked on her after taking a moment to catch his breath. When she didn't answer and all she heard were her quick breaths, he pushed himself up from his position directly on top of her and looked at her face. He was met with a spacey, fucked-out mess of a woman that he needed to take care of. "Isabelle, baby, you're here with me yeah?" He tucked a sweaty strand of her hair behind her ears and tried to provide her with grounding, innocent touches.

Her cloudy eyes found him and she nodded, unable to form words yet. He just chuckled and pulled out of her slowly so that he could do what he needed to do for her. This made her finally speak, "No," She whined, "Wanted you to stay." She pouted.

"Trust me, ma', I did too, but I need to clean my favorite girl up," He said in a dominant tone that told her not to argue and she didn't even want to. He climbed off the bed and slid his arms underneath her body to carry her bridal style to the bathroom. Isabelle had finally come back to planet earth and found herself staring at him in amazement. "Why're you looking at me like that?" He squinted.

"Nothin'. I just love you," She murmured softly in his ear and her hand played with the sweaty hair at the nape of his neck.

"I love you too. You're so perfect." He complimented and set her on the toilet. She stared up at him with her lips folded into her mouth.

"I'm not peeing with you in here, mister." She said sternly.

"Bro," he kissed his teeth, "I was just balls deep inside of you and you think I care about watching you pee?"

"I don't care if you care, I care if I care. Now please, exit." She shooed him away with her hand. He groaned before spinning on his heels.

"Anything for my favorite girl."

///

aaaahhhh!!! i know this took way longer than expected but i had a ton of exams and my schedule just got super busy, but she's finally here. i'm sorry if it was underwhelming or not what you expected but this was my first time writing something like this, so let me know what you think or what to work on.

thank you all so much for all the love, i definitely wasn't expecting this many people to see my work, so, for that i'm very grateful.

i have a series planned, so, be on the look out for any information about that.

all the love, she <3

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #fluff #nicolas sturniolo #childhood best friends to lovers #fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x fem!oc #chris sturniolo fanfic #dom/sub #belly bulge #size k!nk #size difference #dom!chris struniolo #Spotify

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mybelovedwoo · 1 year

Text

i'm glad i have you with me

bff!san x f!reader

fluff, comfort, childhood best friends to lovers (slow burn) / wc:1.3k

warnings: cheating, crying, swear words, cuddling

note: so tell me how you liked this one. i am a bit nervous because this is my first non-wooyoung fic, but i really enjoyed writing it. please stay tuned in the future for other members' fics too. if you want to be tagged in any of my fics you can apply here <3

san masterlist - main masterlist

Sitting on a couch at a house party all alone with people you don't know, there's literally any other place you would rather be. Originally you came with you're boyfriend Seungjun, but you haven't seen him in hours. You weren't much of a party person, but this time you accompanied him, because he begged you for days for it, but now you are starting to regret it honestly.

You take out your phone from your back pocket, but before you open it, you look around once more to see if your boyfriend pops up somewhere, you are out of luck, so after you unlocked it, the first thing you open is your messages. Your fingers linger over Seungjun's name, but it says he's been unavailable for hours, no shit Sherlock, you think. Instead, you scroll down a bit and open the messages for your best friend, San.

You know well that he probably not gonna answer, because it's Saturday night, and he is most definitely out with his friends too. You don't care, you try it anyway, he is your best chance to rescue you out of this hell. "Hey, San." is the first you send, you're not sure what to write him, you don't want to bother him. "What are you doing?" you wait a few minutes, but he's not responding, his phone is probably on mute. "I'm kinda bored, I don't know where Seungjun went. I need your rescue ㅠㅠ." Nothing, no response. You feel really annoyed at this point, but not because San, poor boy did nothing wrong, it is just a bad moment. "You know what I'm gonna look for Seungjun. Don't worry and have fun." You lock your phone and put it back in your back pocket.

You look around the kitchen, then in the yard, but you don't see him anywhere. You are getting kinda worried that maybe he left you there. At last, you walk up the stairs, the hallway is full of kissing couples, who must have only met tonight. The moment you enter one of the rooms, you regret everything you did until now. Your boyfriend was there with another girl you had never seen before, doing things you never expected him to do with anyone except for you.

You didn't know what to do in the big shock, but you didn't speak up, maybe they didn't even notice you or just didn't care. But you turned around and hurried down the stairs, unable to control your tears. You just needed some fresh air, you had to get out of this place immediately. You crashed out of the entrance of the house and fell down to the stairs. Sitting there you didn't even think, you were already calling San. This is urgent now.

Your phone didn't even ring for two seconds when they already answered it. "Hey Y/N, is everything okay? I'm sorry my phone was on mute I haven't seen your texts. Have you found Seungjun? Wait, are you crying?" You couldn't even speak, though you wanted to tell him everything. "Y/N please say something! What happened? Are you hurt?" You took three big breaths to calm yourself down enough to talk a few words. "He cheated on me. Could you come to pick me up?" You didn't have to say more. "I've already sat in the car the minute I saw your messages, don't worry. I'll be there soon."

He wasn't lying, he got there in record time. You watched as he pulled up with his car to the driveway of the house. When he gets out of the car, is only when you get up from the stairs you've been sitting on. San rushed towards you at a high speed, so you didn't have time to move even an inch in his way.

"Where is that dickhead?" He asked with blunt words when he got to you. He seemed really angry, maybe even angrier than you, you had never in your life seen him like this before. You shrugged, implying that you don't know and don't care either. But that was not enough for him. "Is he still inside there?" You started to get a little worried.

"I think so. But please don't make a scene, let's just go home." You pulled him through his forearm when he already started walking to the entrance. "Wait for me in the car, okay? I'll be quick, I'm not gonna do anything he doesn't deserve, I swear." He said to you, while he stroked your face with his right hand. You hesitated, but who are you to tell him what to do, so you went up to his car and sat on the passenger side for like five minutes.

At this point you didn't care much about waiting a little longer, that's what you did all night long. San slammed the door behind himself, and somehow he looked even angrier than before. He got in the car next to you and when he looked at you his expression softened. "What did you do?" You asked him with a sobby voice. "I just showed him where he belonged. Let's just say he went swimming." You look down at his hands and you see it's all bruised up.

He started the engine. "San, I don't wanna go home. What if he comes there?" You didn't know what to do, since he had a key to your apartment. You couldn't bare to see his face once more.

"We're going to my place." He didn't even hesitate. You slept at his place many times now, but not since you started dating Seungjun. San was worried when you found out you are going to different colleges, he was afraid that you wouldn't spend as much time together as you used to. But you thought that was nonsense since you have been best friends since you were very little, you grew up together.

He never liked Seungjun, he always said he didn't deserve you. But he was your first boyfriend, and you were blinded with love, at least that's what you thought. Looking back, you also know that he didn't treat you well, but you don't know that when you're in it.

Entering San's apartment, all you could think about was that you needed to get some sleep asap. Weariness hit you the moment you got hit by the heat of the comfortable room. You didn't want to bother San with your presence, you don't know what plans he had.

You've been quite comfortable in here, so you decided to lie down on the couch in the living room. "What are you doing?" Asked San, entering the room with a glass of water in his hand.

"Sleeping. I'm really tired." You mumbled, not able to speak properly.

"You can't sleep here. Go to my room, there is my bed. I'll sleep on the couch." You sat up at his statement. "No, you can't. This is your place." There's no way you letting him sleep out here in the cold living room when he has his own warm bed just a room away. "Let's sleep both in the bed. I think it's big enough for the both of us." You said. It's not like this is the first time you sleep in the same bed, you always fell asleep next to each other when you were little.

"Are you sure?" He hesitated. "We are not so small anymore." The joke made you both laugh, it made his heart clench to see you happy again.

After you took a warm shower, he gave you a big shirt of his and a jogger pant that was definitely too big for you. You got under the cover, San was already there, lying down. He turned off the lamp on the bedside table, which illuminated the whole room until now.

As soon as it got dark your eyes started watering again, you remember everything that happened today. All of a sudden, you feel a pair of hands slip on your waist. San hugged you tightly from behind. "I got you." He whispered in your ears. He didn't let go of you all night long, you woke up in the same position the next morning.

#san #ateez #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez imagine #choi san #san x reader #ateez san #ateez san fluff #childhood best friends to lovers #friends to lovers #slowburn romance #san x you #san comfort #bff san #san imagine #ateez fanfic

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themorningsunshine · 1 year

Text

Be My Muse

Pairing - Aritst!Bucky Barnes x Reader (Childhood best friends to lovers)

Summary - Muse - A person or spirit that gives an artist the desire to create things

Bucky has been in love with you for years, but just can't get himself to say it. So, instead, he decides to show you.

Warnings - None, just fluffy fluff

Word Count - 2.4k

a/n - This is for @buckybarnesevents ‘s Connect 4: June-iverse event. Card Number - C4037 for the prompt C1 - Aritst. Thank you to the lovely @bluehourbucky for motivating me to actually finish writing this.

"Come on, Buck. Just tell me."

You watched as the man you called your best friend shook his head, once again refusing to let out anything about his upcoming art exhibition.

"Oh, come on. Don't be this way." You didn't want to pressurize him, but he was acting weird about this exhibition for the past 2 months.

Every single time when he had an art exhibition coming up, he would ramble about it for weeks to you and you loved it. The way he was excited about what he had made and also the way his nervous ticks showed up always a week before the actual event, you loved every bit of it. But this time, he hadn't spoken a word remotely related to it.

To top it all off, he had said that this was the most important exhibition of his life.

You were bound to be scared.

"Okay, what about this, you give me a hint, about anything, it doesn't even have to be the centerpiece, literally anything, and I will stop bugging you." You were practically begging now.

"Come on, doll. You are going to come to the main event. You can look at it then." He said putting your cup of coffee in front of you, is pretty much one of the only ways to distract your mind.

"See it then? With everybody else? Is that what I am to you, now, Buck? Just a person in the audience? I knew this day would come." You picked up your cup and with a dramatic turn walked out of the room.

Had you stood there for a moment longer, you would have seen the way Bucky scratched his thumb and bit his lips, two of his most prominent nervous ticks.

Only if he could tell you that you weren't just a person in the crowd. No, you were much more than that. You were everything .

He just had to wait.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

The day of the exhibition came sooner than he would have liked, but to you, it couldn't have been further away.

Bucky had been a little distant with you for the past week and you hated it. You hated it more than anything else in the world.

Usually, he would take you with him to carry out the errands related to the exhibition, 'cause he always got super nervous and you would be there to ground him. Like anchoring him back to the shore.

But this time, you had absolutely no idea what even was the theme of this exhibition. Every single time you offered to go with him for anything, he would always make excuses, and you were confident that they were lies 'cause when did Bucky start to go grocery shopping in the middle of the week?

In the almost 2 decades you had known him, ever since you were a kid, he had never hidden something this important from you.

To say that you were scared would be an understatement.

When you finally entered the exhibition, you were proud to see how many people had shown up. You had always known that Bucky would do exceptionally well as an artist and you had taken every chance you got to tell him exactly that.

As you were about to turn the corner and look at the first painting, you almost collided with a wall of muscle.

You looked up only to be met by the gaze of one of your closest friends.

"Steve, hey!!"

You saw as Steve tried extremely hard to hide the huge grin that threatened to spread across his face and you could swear you saw happy tears brimming in the corner of his eyes.

You squinted as you took a step to the side to let a man walk in, realizing you were blocking the way.

"Y/n, you need to come with me."

"Not now, Steve. It's Bucky's exhibition. I need to stay here."

"He has asked you to come with me."

You narrowed your eyes as you asked, "Are you sure?"

Steve nodded as he took your hand to try and take you away from the paintings.

Dread filled your chest. Did Bucky really not want you in here so much?

You follow Steve as he leads you toward an isolated door of the arena.

You turn to look at him and he signals you to get inside.

"Okay, if you are kidnapping me, I might as well let you know that no one is going to pay a single penny as ransom to you." You joke. You have been friends with Steve almost for as long as you have been with Bucky and you trusted them with everything.

Steve chuckles before replying, "Just go in, y/n."

You open the door and take a step in, only to realize that it's pitch dark. Before you can turn back to look at Steve, the door closes behind you.

You take a deep breath and call out, "Bucky? I swear to god if it's one of your stupid pranks, I'll kill you."

Suddenly, a small light gets switched on beside you and you turn to realize that it beautifully illuminates a painting.

You take a step forward towards it, only to realize that it is a sketch of an eye and it's beautiful .

You can see the way it shines with a glint even though it's just a sketch and you bring your hand forward to run it across it.

It is then that you notice the little note sitting at the bottom right corner of the sketch.

All the city lights combined couldn't shine brighter than your eyes.

Your lips turned upwards into a smile as you read the words. Even though you had absolutely no idea what was happening, it was a huge comfort to know that it was all Bucky's doing. You could recognize that handwriting anywhere.

You looked around hoping to figure out at least something, but all that the little illumination below the sketch showed you was that it was more probable than not a huge hall.

Not even a moment later, another small light was switched on just beside the first one.

It was a painting this time. A very old painting.

It was a small girl sitting on a swing hanging from the tree. A blissful smile on her face, carefree and oblivious to the troubles of the world.

When you noticed the bracelet that she was wearing, you took a step forward, squinting to focus on the painting.

It was you.

And then the memory of that day placed itself at the forefront of your brain.

"Come on, Buck." The little 11-year-old girl called out to the brown-haired boy.

He just shakes his head and refuses to move away from under the tree he is sitting, a sketchbook in hand.

"Why do you even like painting so much?" She had asked, crossing her arms across her chest, puffing in annoyance at his lack of response before walking away towards the swing herself.

A smile finds its way to your lips at the memory. It was about a couple of years after the both of you had met, and yet, it was as clear as day in your mind. Even after all the memories you and Bucky created together over the years, small - innocent ones like these from all those years ago never left your heart.

You look at it intensely for a long time. A couple of tears brimming at the corner of your eyes.

It's been so long. You couldn't help but think. The both of you had grown up but never grew apart. There was always a connection, an instant pull that always brought the both of you back to each other, almost like how no matter how far any of you went, you never forgot your way back home.

After some time, you finally noticed the little note written in the bottom left corner of the painting, just like in the first one. But this one was different. This sentence was the one that would change your whole life for you. In the best way possible. It read :

The day that 12-year-old fell in love, without even knowing what love meant. All he knew was that he was going to love that girl with everything he had, till his last days and beyond.

Your breath hitched in your throat. He loved you.

Bucky Barnes was in love with you.

That's when it hit you.

Everything you have ever wanted. The only thing your heart has ever yearned for, was right in front of you all along.

The love that you had read about in books, the kind of love that swallowed you whole until there was no part left untouched, the love that you have looked for your entire life, has been right there. Right beside you. In the form of the oceanic blue eyes that had enamored you for the last 20 years.

You were in love with your best friend.

The realization doesn't hit you like a truck, or leave you gasping in surprise, it brings with it a sense of peace, a sense of everything falling into place.

You look around frantically searching for the man that you had loved all along without ever knowing it.

You loved him when he fought those bullies to protect Steve and got hurt in the process.

You had loved him when he had brought you cookies when you had gotten sick during Christmas, not being able to move.

You had loved him when you had supported him in his decision to do what his heart desired, in his journey of becoming an artist.

You had loved him when the both of you had said your goodbyes while leaving for college in distant cities when the tears had fallen from your eyes and on the ground and he had comforted you that your friendship won't fall apart.

You had loved him in the nights that were spent staring at the stars together, in the afternoons that had been spent watching movies, curled up beside each other, just the two of you.

You had loved him then, and you love him now and you were pretty sure you were going to love him till the world was nothing but dust.

A light suddenly gets switched on just beside the old painting, and this time too, it's you.

Painted years after the last one, it's you staring at the night sky, a soft, content look on your face.

This time, your eyes frantically search for the note, and sure enough, it's right there, at the bottom.

'Cause, darling without you,

All the shine of a thousand spotlights

All the stars we steal from the night sky

Will never be enough

Never be enough

You can now feel tears rolling down your cheeks, as your lips turn into the widest grin possible.

You turn around and as you do so, all the lights in the room begin to turn on, each revealing a painting of you. Taken in the simplest moments.

There is one with you in the kitchen, covered in flour, a pout evident on your face as you had tried to bake a cake for the first time.

There was one where you were sitting at the beach, staring into the ocean.

The one that you liked the most was the one in which you were sleeping contently, a blanket loosely draped over you, that you could swear hadn't been there before.

Before you can look at the rest of them, a voice comes from the corner of the hall and you turn just in time to look at Bucky Barnes himself.

Your smile grew wider if it was even possible and you almost ran off to embrace him when he started speaking.

"One day, you asked me why I drew. Why I felt the need to express whatever it was I felt through a canvas. I didn't tell you, then, but now I want to, doll.

It's you. It's always been you. You have been my muse, my pillar of support, my motivation to get up every morning, my need to paint because there was no other way I could express to the girl I was in love with that she was all I ever dreamt about. That she was everything I could ever want.

I love you, doll. I love you with everything I am and everything I'll ever be. There are a hundred ways this could fall apart, and trust me, I have thought about each one of them more than I should have. But if there is one chance that this could work, that I could be yours, not just in movie nights or weekly trips to the grocery market, but in every way possible, I want to take that chance. In slow mornings and in intimate nights, in tough days and in the celebratory evenings, I want you, I need you to be a part of all of them, doll because life just doesn't feel like life without you."

As if your feet had gained a mind of their own you ran towards him, circling your arms around his neck and pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss was gentle, soft, full of need and unspoken feelings, of time lost, it was everything .

He pulled you impossibly closer to him, not wanting to ever let go.

Finally, when the both of you pulled away, still staying close with the widest possible grins on your faces, you whispered, "I love you too, Buck. So damn much." You say it so slowly, it feels like a dream to him.

You would one day shout out to the world how much you loved him, but for now, it was going to be your little moment. When the city of Brooklyn went about its day just like it did every day, two people who were irresistibly, irrevocably in love with each other stood there, holding each other, in the gentlest of embraces, embers of their love while keeping them warm, strong enough to burn the whole world down.

You stay there for what feels like forever before Bucky whispers. "Doll, be my muse?"

You look up at him, drowning in his oceanic blue eyes, only to reach home, before you whisper, "Forever."

#bucky barnes #aritst!bucky #marvel #oneshot #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x you #artist au #childhood best friends to lovers #love #love confessions #fluff #bucky barnes fluff #art #painting #connect4au

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nootnootwook · 4 months

Text

merry christmas

pairing: sung hanbin x fem!reader

genre: best friends to lovers

in which: you and hanbin have your annual christmas sleepover

warnings: two idiots in love, cuddles, kisses, lowercase intended, not proofread !!!

series masterlist !!

so where do we begin?

you and hanbin have been friends for years. ever since you met in high school you became the best of friends after realising how compatible the two of you are. both of you were immediately drawn to each other and the amount of times you were mistaken to be a couple since then is more than you could count.

to be honest you saw where all these people came from with that point. you and hanbin do usually act couple-y with one another but never think much of it. i mean you go on study dates, coffee dates, walks together, he gets you flowers, takes you to the movies and so on. but that’s just what best friends do right?

wrong.

you can’t lie and say that you haven’t developed feelings for hanbin after years of doing all of these things but there’s nothing you could really do about it. so you don’t. you live happily in your delusions pretending that all of this is real.

one of the many couple-like things that the two of you do is your annual christmas sleepover. this tradition came to be a couple of months after your friendship began when you were 14 and your parents decided that your families will spend christmas together. hanbin and his family stayed over on christmas eve and you all opened your presents together the next day.

this tradition continues up until now, where both of you attend uni together and continue your completely platonic relationship.

so your currently setting up the apartment waiting for hanbin’s return from the store. he went to go pick up some snacks while you finished setting up the fort in the living room. the setup was cosy and warm. you managed to get some matching christmas pyjamas for the two of you to wear as well as matching mugs for your hot chocolate. the selection of movies was laid out in front of you while the pile of pillows and teddies was laying behind you.

just as you ran into your room to grab hanbin’s gift to place under the christmas tree the door opened and in walked your best friend.

“hey i’m back” he said as he walked through the door.

“bin you’re finally here” you ran to him after placing the gift down under the tree. you almost wrapped your arms around him before remembering that he’d been out while it was snowing so you instead unzipped his jacket and took it off for him, hanging it up on the hanger before embracing him in a hug. “right on time. i just finished setting up” you say into the embrace before letting go and looking up at him. your eyes meet his for a few seconds before you grab the bag of snacks out of his hand and bring them to the fort. “come on! put your pyjamas on!” you say and hold them out to him. he only chuckles at you.

“okay okay. i’ll be back in a second” he says and leaves to his room to get changed. soon he came back through to the living room with a gift in his hand. he walked over to the tree and placed it next to the gift bag that you had put there not long ago. he sat next to you. “so, what are we watching?” he said and reached out to pick up some of the cds which were laying on the floor before him.

“hmmm” you pretend to think while resting your chin on his shoulder to look at the movies. “maybe the grinch?” you say and pint to the cd in his hand.

“great pick” he said and popped open the cd’s box. “you get comfy, i’ll put it on.” he said and patted your head lightly. you moved back into the fort and got cozy under the blankets while waiting for him to put the movie on. you opened some of the packs of snacks that he brought just as he came to lay down beside you.

the movie started and as the plot rolled out you lay your head on hanbin’s shoulder. this was, again, quite a normal occurrence for you but this felt more intimate than normal seen as he reached out shortly after and laced your fingers together, holding your hand in his bigger one. it felt so warm. so comfortable. it was home.

and before you knew it, the first movie was over and on came another - you and hanbin only separating for the few minutes it took him to put on the polar express - and the two of you were back to your previous position. about halfway into the second movie you started to feel drowsy and started to drift away into dreamland on hanbin’s shoulder.

he, of course, noticed and only moved you so that you were laying right on his chest. for comfort he thought, but he wasn’t sure if it was yours or his. he must admit he completely melted at the sight of you peacefully sleeping on his chest, one hand wrapped around his torso and the other lightly gripping the shirt of the matching pyjama set that he had on and he could only hope that you’ll appreciate the gift he has prepared for you.

he soon found himself feeling a bit more tired and decided to head off to sleep - holding you tightly - but not before checking the time which now was 00:02.

“merry christmas my love” he whispered to you quietly before making himself comfortable in the small fort that you have built for the two of you.

~~~

you woke up warm and comfortable (with a blanket that fell off the fort on your face but comfy nonetheless) you yawned and stretched as you heard your back pop in a couple of places from sleeping on the floor. as you were stretching you felt the arms around your waist tighten around you. you were pulled into hanbin’s chest and found yourself with a small smile on your face as you melted into the warm embrace.

“merry christmas bin” you whispered to him after noticing he was awake.

“merry christmas y/n” he says with a sleepy smile while rubbing his eyes tiredly. both of you stopped and looked at each other. everything just felt so right at this moment - waking up in his arms and hearing his voice first thing in the morning. hanbin couldn’t help but reach out a hand to cup your cheek. “you’re so beautiful” he whispered so quietly you almost didn’t hear him. his eyes flickered down to your lips.

“wait” you whispered softly. “wait one minute” you said slightly louder and got up to grab the gifts under the tree. you gave him your gift. “open it please” you said and he lightly tore the neat wrapping paper.

he carefully removed the paper to reveal a sleek black box. he opened it and inside was a small silver chain bracelet with a small thin rectangle in which ‘forever’ was engraved in small lettering. he let his finger slide over the word as he examined the box. he soon came to realise that on the inside of the lid ‘i love you’ was written in fine gold print.

“i-“ he didn’t even know what to say. “thank you” he said and looked up at you with slight tears in his eyes. he couldn’t believe it it finally happened. “thank you so much” he wrapped his arms around you so tightly you almost could breathe. “i love you too” he whispered to you as you embraced him back.

you broke the hug and looked up at him with sparkling eyes. you cupped his cheeks in yours and brought his face to yours placing a light peck on his lips which he, of course, reciprocated.

“open mine” he said. and you did. he had gotten you a gorgeous golden necklace which had a small gold circle hanging from it on which both of your initials were engraved and a heart on the other side.

and on the lid of the box ‘i love you’ was written in fine gold print.

~~~~

a/n !! hello my lovelies !!! happy almost christmas i hope you’re all enjoying this series. unfortunately i will not be able to get all of the parts out before christmas but i will try my best to make sure they’re out by the new year !!

i love you all take care !! any reblogs and comments are a huge help thank you for all the support !!!

library !!

#best friends to lovers #zb1 #zb1 christmas #best friends #childhood best friends to lovers #zb1 fluff #sung hanbin #zb1 hanbin #hanbin x reader #sung hanbin fluff #zb1 x reader #christmas with zerobaseone #sung hanbin x reader #hanbin fluff

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iconocon · 1 year

Text

what about me | verstappen

⚔︎ ✧ (short)

there he was.

a wet max verstappen stood in the doorframe of your apartment smelling like the mini-bar of a cheap hotel and it was not a good look on him. your eyes went from the bird's nest of a hair on his head to the dark wine-red half-smudged lipstick stain on his white collared shirt to the belt around his waist that was left on one notch too big.

"i didn't know where else to go"

"why would you come here"

"i needed you please don't make me go home"

you hated him. hated that he always knew exactly what to say to suck you in, to forgive him for the stupid shit he does but your heart was too big to kick the wet beaten-down puppy anymore so with a big sigh you stepped backward allowing him into the hallway.

"max"

you two knew each other well enough by this point that he automatically tried reaching to take off his wet black dress shoes but I'm sure the rain mixed with the cheap vodka was too much for him and he went tumbling to the wooden floor in a mess. if anything your patience with him was wearing thin and with one glance into your living you would see the big clock above your sofa laying out the time of 3:25 in the morning. so slowly getting down to his height you reached for one foot while he reached for the other, of course, you managed it way before him and even chuckled at the frustrated look on his face as he struggled with the knot he himself made which did all but distract his gaze to your face. the way he stared at you was unnerving, as if he wanted to say something so bad but didn't have the guts to do it and that probably scared you the most because if he of all people was scared to say something it was not something you wanted to hear.

"come"

before you could even say no or turn down the offer the man himself nudged your knee out from underneath you with just his foot laying you flat on ur butt/the wet footprints he made himself minutes before.

"what the fu-"

"i don't know who i am anymore" he interrupted and before you could say anything he stopped you with a hand on your knee as he stared mindlessly with glazed-over eyes into your beige wallpaper abyss of a hallway, "I'm not happy not at home, not on the track, I don't know how to make it okay again" you wanted to reach out and touch him but every time your fingers moved closer to his body he shifted around them so he was just so out of reach which at this point should have been a normal occurrence for you but it still didn't stop the pain in your chest. "i went out and i did what the guys wanted, i drank and drank, and i danced with some girl who only liked me fo-" the hiccup stopped he sentence but the lipstick mark on his collar told the story for him. "i wanted to be okay just for one night" this time you didn't allow him to push his body away from you and instead sat shoulder to shoulder with him grabbing his damp head and pulling it down into your lap. as you ran your fingers through his hair you hummed a familiar song that you both loved as children even going as far to label it as ‘your song’.

max was a tough guy. growing up in the way in which he did he wasn't allowed the luxury of being a crazy teen or a child that could talk back to his parents. he was a prodigy meant to be something greater than all the other kids on the block and you saw it in him the moment you met on track. at that time you wanted to be something too, you wanted to be bigger than all the stars, but reality set in for you too young making you realize that you weren't cut out for the same dreams as your peers however that didn't stop you from being a selfish child then adult and keeping him.

your crush on max was visible from day one, he was all chubby bright pink cheeks and fury. you want to say the first time you realized your crush was the same day he yelled at pierre gasly (one of your now both good friends) for pushing you off track after he broke late in one of the corners making you cry your eyes out because you were finally able to compete for a podium. it was dumb and it was stupid but he was your savior even as children making sure to do everything he could to make you laugh even making himself look stupid to onlookers in restaurants by putting straws up his nose one day when you were sad your mom said you couldn’t have ice cream.

when he too grew up and left it was probably the hardest thing you had to go through because to you he was your peace, your home, but as a teen, it was hard for you to realize at the time that you weren't his. racing took your best friend away, and it was bittersweet because he was so good. he was better than you thought he was, and now your drunk sad best friend was a two-time world champion who could be recognized around the world. for fucks sake he raced in countries you could only dream of on a normal person's salary and even when it felt like you grew so far apart you knew he still needed you as he did now. you were the one person in the world he knew he could come to and cry and cry and do it again until he couldn't feel any more but yet maybe he didn't understand why that hurt you. why right now as he was laying in your arms you were so focused on the way his heart skipped a beat when he snored that your own heartbeat fell in tune with him.

you loved max verstappen and even though you could never be enough for him you selfishly hoped now as you did as children that he would always need you even if that meant waiting forever but, for now, you slept dreaming of what it could be like if maybe just maybe he did too.

⌯

this is so short and probably bad but i was SAD and i might delete it idk i haven't written in so long but i have a few in the chamber anyway pls send prompts I love u!

#max verstappen imagine #f1 one shot #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #max verstappen x reader #angst #childhood best friends to lovers #max verstappen fluff

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youneedsomeprompts · 2 years

Text

20 childhood best friends to lovers prompts

requested by: various anons

Feel free to use and reblog!

#1 - when reuniting, they feel understood for the first time in long

#2 - seeing how greatly the other has worked on themself and being proud of them

#3 - joking that they will marry each other if they don't find someone else

#4 - being much more open with each other than with anyone else

#5 - not seeing the other romantically even if they would be perfect for them

#6 - already being part of the other's family since they were small

#7 - protecting the other from bad decisions in their love life

#8 - saying 'I love you' platonically

#9 - being mistaken for a couple

#10 - describing the perfect partner & it's actually a description of the other

#11 - having a crush on them for years but being too afraid to ruin the friendship

#12 - feeling safe with the other because they know their needs

#13 - knowing the other better than themself because they witnessed everything they went through

#14 - being the first one the other calls when they need someone to talk to

#15 - knowing they can trust each other with everything

#16 - having a history of fake dating each other for public events

#17 - using terms of endearment

#18 - trying to interpret the chemistry between them as platonic because they don't want to get their hopes up

#19 - waiting for the right moment to confess their feelings (bonus: it has been ages)

#20 - going on a date feels weird because they've done all of that already without realising that it could have very well been considered a date

#childhood best friends to lovers #best friends to lovers #childhood friends au #prompt list #writing prompts #prompts #writing inspiration #writing ideas #writers on tumblr #writeblr #otp prompts #otp #fluff prompts #fanfic prompts #20 prompts

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 2 months

Text

Home. (ALT ENDING) || cbf!Simon "Ghost" Riley

Rating: M Words: 3K (this one got away from me, sorry) Pairing: cbf!Simonxafab!reader / teen!Simonxteen!Reader Summary: Teen Simon and his best friend often spend their nights away from their respective houses because they found a home in each other… CW: mentions of psychological issues, mentions of self-harm, mentions of therapy Tags: you/your pronouns, hurt/comfort, ANGST, forgiveness, catharsis. a/n: not proofread. THIS IS THE HAPPY ENDING. I'M STILL NOT HAPPY WITH IT, BUT IT IS WHAT IT IS.

[FIC MASTERLIST] || [MY MASTERLIST]

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Anyone would say that Simon Riley is good.

Good company for going out drinking.

A good partner for duos in training.

A good shot.

A good soldier.

A good candidate.

A good recruit.

A good lad.

But Simon would say he’s a bad, bad man.

Even before he took this job.

Destined to rot from the inside out.

To become the things he’s promised himself to not ever become.

Finding a way out of home, out of the trauma, only works if some of it is not already inside of you.

Slowly eating you up.

Ever-lasting.

All-consuming.

That’s what Simon figured out in the last 15 years.

Grief.

Depression.

Rage.

Antisocial tendencies.

Psychopathy.

PTSD.

Compartmentalization of emotions and trauma.

Tendencies for self-harm and self-sabotage.

Fear of vulnerability.

Trust issues.

An inclination for isolation.

A past muddled by juvenile delinquency and early drug and alcohol use.

An avoidant attachment style in any relationships he attempts to form due to an inability to truly connect with others.

An identity crisis stemming from low self-worth and a disturbed self-image.

The list goes on.

Simon would say he’s got it all under control.

But any Army-appointed psychiatrist would disagree.

And he’s too valuable of an asset to let go of…

Just the ‘depression’ diagnosis would land the average soldier on a watchlist and the ‘tendencies to self-harm’ would get anyone a medical discharge and interned into a psych ward.

Thank God Simon’s not the average soldier.

Price has been pulling strings to keep him around, calling in favors to people for his sake and getting people to turn a blind eye to the fact Simon Riley has not gone to a single routine psych check in the better part of a decade.

In exchange, however, that forced Simon to take a deal with Price and instead see an off-site psych expert. A friend of Price’s, a retired psychiatrist who has no way of getting him discharged.

As such, every time he goes on leave he drives some 4 or so hours from Hereford to a small village in Cumbria up north to see her. He always spends the first week of his leave there, in a chalet right smack in the middle of the Lake District National Park… It’s peaceful and nice. Over those 5 to 7 days, he talks about anything and everything.

At first he hated it, but with time, it did bring him clarity on a lot of his issues without any sort of danger or judgement. In her words, Dr. Armstrong had been dealing with John’s shit for “far too long”, and nothing Simon would tell her would make a dent on the appalling things she’s heard… And true to her word, Simon hadn’t spotted any shock or discomfort in her, even as he spoke of some utterly vile things.

She made him feel heard, understood, welcome… alive, even if more often than not he didn’t quite feel human. He always came in the door like the ghost of his moniker, a shadow, with steps too hard, body too stiff, breathing too tense, eyes too sharp… And left with an ease and lightness uncharacteristic to someone like him… Dr. Armstrong unraveled all the damage during those 5 to 7 grueling days… Only for him return to base and begin the process of hardening himself once again.

He’s thirty-three, you’re thirty-two today.

He dragged himself out of the comfortable bed in the guest house nearby to the chalet, and threw on a hoodie and some slides before he ventured out to the main house across the stepping stone walkway and into the house through the sliding glass doors.

Dr. Armstrong was already at the breakfast nook in the kitchen when he came in. She’s not quite gone gray, but she’s getting there. Her face is steadily getting more wrinkled compared to 10 years ago when this started. She’s wearing a light blue robe and a set of warm pajamas. Her hair cut into a pixie à la Judi Dench. “Good morning, Simon.”

Simon, meanwhile, is all disheveled, hair sticking up from having just woken up, face peppered with a 5 o’clock shadow, eyes still crusty and face unwashed. “Mornin’.” He grumbled as he poured himself a cup of tea and popped two slices of bread into the toaster.

“How did you sleep?” She asked him as she regarded him over her green-frame reading glasses, which adorned the tip of her nose. She took a sip of a black mug with a cat’s whiskers drawn in it in white.

“Same as usual…” He replied as he stirred some milk into his tea. He grabbed the plain toasted bread and plopped it into a plate and began to turn to join her at the table when she set down her tea mug and leaned her elbows on the table, giving him a pointed look with a cocked brow.

Holding back a groan akin to a moody teenage boy’s, he set down the plate and cuppa, and grabbed some butter and a knife, spreading it over the toasted bread. He was thankful that Dr. Armstrong forced him to take care of himself, he was… But it doesn’t mean he was happy about it. “How did you sleep?” He returned.

“Slept well, thank you.” She replied and kept a stern watch over him as he reached the fridge and grabbed a yogurt and a small box of raspberries. He poured the yogurt into a bowl, topped it with the fruit and a drizzle of honey from the bowl in the corner of the counter, and then took his slightly more nutritious meal to the table.

She watched him closely as he began to eat his buttered toast, letting him have a moment of stewing in the ‘forced’ meal. She took off her glasses, folding them shut, and set them aside, along with her tablet, and stared at him.

In a way, Simon was more of a son than a patient to her, after so many years helping undo the damage the military and his childhood wracked on his head. He looked forward to the routine, needed it, so much that if he didn’t have these moments with her as often as he had grown accustomed to, he’d start acting a bit erratic. A bit more prone to violence, a bit harder to contain, a bit harder for John to keep a handle on. “What’s on your mind this morning?” She asked him with a cocked brow.

He finished his toasted and wiped his mouth. Then he started toying with the spoon resting on the edge of his yogurt bowl. “That it’s a bad week to be here.” He told her.

“And why is it a bad week, Simon?” She asked him as she leaned her head on her palm.

“There was this girl,” He began to say before he spooned some yogurt into his mouth. He had long stopped wearing a mask while staying over at Dr. Armstrong’s house. His scars were always on display for her to see. “who I grew up with. Her birthday is this week.”

The older woman nodded her head as she watched him closely. “I see. And… this ‘girl’... Was she a friend? A girlfriend?”

“I guess.” Simon said as he ate another spoon of yogurt, brown eyes lowered and focused on the red raspberries suspended atop the fatty yogurt. “We were like…” He trailed off. “She was… erm…” He stopped again and exhaled through his nose.

“I see.” The doctor said as she kept watching him. He kept eating quietly. “And… I assume you don’t talk to her anymore?” She asked.

“No.” Simon replied. “After I joined the Army, she moved away from Manchester and we lost contact.” He said softly.

“Do you still think about it?” She asked him. “About her?”

“Sometimes.” He admitted as he stirred his spoon in his bowl before sighing again and eating another spoonful. “A few times a year… Around her birthday, and mine. And Christmas… And the anniversary of the day we met…” He listed.

“And how does it feel…? Nice? Sad? Bittersweet?” She trailed off, knowing sometimes Simon needed help verbalizing his emotions.

“Sad.” He replied bluntly and ate a couple of spoonfuls of yogurt in a row before pushing the now empty bowl aside with the spoon resting inside of it.

“And cruel.” The woman watched as he rolled his shoulders, a bit tense, and raised his irises to look at her, eyes softened. “It’s been 15 years since she left Manc, left me and I-” He trailed off.

Looking away, he kept talking, and talking. “I still think about her. I think I’m okay, I think I’m doing good, doing better, and then those dates come and I’m reminded that she exists, that she’s out there, that she… that she went off and found herself a place and I’m here, and have nothing to show for it, just some stupid fucking medals pinned to the breast of my suit and blood on my hands that doesn’t wash off in the fucking sink.” He hissed bitterly, his eyes unfocused as he poured it all out.

“She was like me. We did everything together, were basically attached at the hip. She was my partner in crime, like a home away from home. Sure, dad beat me and mum, and scared us all and I’m much better now and I’ve grown up, but nothing feels okay. Nothing feels normal or good. It’s all just… just bullshit!” He hissed, his breathing beginning to grow faster. “I go through the motions but I don’t feel okay, I don’t feel safe.” He turned his head away from Doctor Armstrong.

“The last time I felt safe I was in her arms, looking into her eyes and telling her that I loved her for the first time and making all these promises for a future that didn’t happen. A future I stole from the two of us.” He grumbled. “And the worst part is that I used to blame her for leaving, for seeking out a better life, a better place! Maybe I still blame her… But it’s not her fault. It’s really not.” Simon’s eyes began to water in a way they never have before.

“It’s all my fault. There’s no one to blame but me. The last conversation we had was a stupid fucking argument where I looked her in the eyes, the girl I loved, and told her to stop relying on me… She was looking to me for help, to get her out, to get us both somewhere safe…” He stopped and pressed his lips together to contain a sob. His eyes squeezed shut as tears rolled down his cheeks.

“I was going to marry her.” He confessed and groaned. “I came back from Aghanistan and bought a ring, because while I was out there, with bullets whizzing past me and watching my brothers in arms fall like flies, all I wanted was to do was go back to her… And I was completely expecting her to be there… To be waiting for me…” He trailed off. “After I broke her heart and told her to leave… I… I somehow expected her to have been weak… to have stayed. And she was strong enough to leave.” He nodded as he pondered on it.

“And the worst part is that I want to know what happened to her. I want…” He trailed off. “I know it’s been so long and she probably doesn’t think about me and even if she did, she wouldn’t want to ever step foot anywhere near her and it’s not like I want to see her, or to meet with her or to… I don’t know, pick up where we left off?” He ranted more and more. “I just… I want to know she’s okay, I want to know she’s alive. I pray every year that she didn’t turn to hard drugs and die of an overdose on a street corner somewhere… I…” He trailed off. “I need her to be alive and healthy and safe and… happy.”

Doctor Armstrong’s eyes softened as a lightbulb went off in her head. She had finally found the genesis to most of Simon’s issues. The grief of the past, the depression, the antisocial tendencies, his propenture for isolation, his fear of vulnerability, his trust issues, his inability to truly connect with others, the avoidant attachment style to any relationships he does attempt to have…

It was because he was attached to her, whoever this girl he spoke of was. He grieved her, he missed her, he couldn’t pursue a meaningful relationship when he had lost such a deep one… A relationship, an attachment, formed through trauma, unhealthy, sure, but one that resulted in a bond. Any attempts of his to ‘move on’ felt wrong and soured quickly. And until now she couldn’t figure out why that was… thinking he just kept unhealthily self-sabotaging… until now.

That morning was a first in many ways. Simon was speaking unprompted, Simon was voicing his emotions, Simon was confronting his past, Simon was admitting to his mistakes, Simon was expressing his wants. He was not just opening up, but he was actively prioritizing his wants, his feelings… It was huge for someone whose sense of self was as skewed as Simon’s.

It only took ten years… But they were making progress.

‘You just have to write her a letter, Simon. Let her know you don’t mean to impose on her life, but that you simple hope she’s doing well, thank her for having been part of your life. Keep it simple, concise. You can do that.’

Dr. Armstrong severely underestimated Simon’s ability to follow her request. Granted, most of the time he follows them no problem… But when it comes to you? Yikes.

‘Simple, concise’ became 38 and a half pages. None of it proofread. He felt like he passed out and when he woke up he had 38 pages of straight up gibberish, half-baked thoughts and equally half-baked pages. He doesn’t even remember what the fuck he wrote (probably because he was drunk and high, his first time smoking in 15 years).

Trying to read it gave him a headache, so he just transfered it into a Word document, the only file in an all-black slide-out USB drive, and stuffed the USB and a note saying ‘From Simon Riley’ into an envelope. He didn’t even dare send it himself. He simply dropped it off in the mail-out box at base and and called it a day.

That was 3 months ago.

As he lays in bed after dinner, he silently hopes to God that you’re ignoring him and tossed out the USB drive without even reading the mess of text in it… Or even that the address Laswell’s analysts found for you in Scotland was wrong.

But he also can’t bear to imagine someone else opening the envelope, checking the USB drive and finding that letter and-

A buzzing awakes him from his thoughts and he looks across the room to his phone which is charging on his desk in the corner. He moves across the room swiftly, finding a number he doesn’t recognize has sent him a text.

It has to be you. He’s careful with his number, he doesn’t give it out willy-nilly. Only Price, Laswell and Nik have it. And you, since he included it in the document.

Taking a deep breath, he clicks the text on the screen, his brown eyes screwing shut as if it was about to explode. Or maybe it was just his heart racing that made him feel that.

He was afraid.

Simon Riley was afraid.

The Ghost wouldn’t protect him now.

Not from you.

Or, rather, not for the way Simon might react when it comes to you.

Deep breaths, Simon told himself.

Deep breaths.

In…

… and out.

Throwing open his eyes, he looked at the screen, finding one tiny little paragraph in the bright green chat bubble:

hi riley… read your letter a bunch of times… truth be told i didnt know how to answer it, been trying to find what to say for weeks on weeks now and coming up short. if ur free anytime soon can we just have a call over the phone? might be easier. if not then im glad to hear ur fine and that u found success x

Simon reads and rereads your text over and over and over…

And then something in him snaps. He clicks the phone button next to your unsaved contact and then stares at the screen, eyes wide and frantic, not even considering that you might not be ready, that you might be busy, that you asked for ‘one of these days’ and not ‘right now’...

The call connects.

Simon holds his breath.

And so do you, he can hear your little gasp.

The counter at the top of the screen ticks by.

00:01

00:02

00:03

00:04

00:05

00:06

00:07

00:08

00:09

00:10

00:11

00:12

00:13

00:14

00:15

Simon’s eyes begin to well up with tears, he can hear your breath on the other side, but he’s too much of a coward to say anything.

00:16

00:17

00:18

00:19

00:20

00:21

00:22

00:23

Thank God that you’re not.

You’ve always been stronger than him.

“Riley?” You whisper his name.

Taking a deep breath, he opens his mouth to speak… But all that escapes him is a stupid little “Hm?”

You pause again, your breath catching in your throat again… before you say it:

“I forgive you.”

His world nearly collapses at that moment and a sob escapes him, a sound so pathetic and weak that he wants to beat himself over it before Dr. Armstrong’s words ring in his head:

‘You can’t keep suppressing your emotions, it’s okay to cry.’

And so he does. He sobs, audibly so, big fat tears running down his face as he lets his back hit the wall and slide down it until he’s sat on the floor.

“Riley…” You whimper, and it sounds like you’re on the verge of crying as well.

He doesn’t want to make you cry. He really doesn’t…

But he can’t stop…

For the first time in forever, he feels exactly the one thing Dr. Armstrong has told him he deserves to feel:

At peace.

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[FIC MASTERLIST] || [MY MASTERLIST]

TAGGING ANYONE WHO READ/COMMENTED THE FIC (there's only like... 10 of you total, I'm so sorry)

taglist: @iite-cool , @spicyspicyliving , @lyralein , @heavenlyrivers , @depressed-but-make-it-cute , @myhomeworksnotdone , @captainquake42 , @waiting-so-long , @erensonly , @pieckyghost

Thank you so much for reading this fic, to the people who've read it here and on AO3! Your support mean the world to me!

#ikea writes 💚#home cbf!simon fic #cod fanfic #tw psychological issues #psych diagnosis #time skip #ghost cod #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #childhood best friends to lovers #cbf #cbf!simon #teenage love #masterlist #catharsis

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