#Braiding Hair Uk

[aquatinaashly]

london in the summer

[shimmerluna]

WAIT Elle has box braids in s3??? I could cry

I don't think she had bad hair in s1 or s2, but I'm excited that they're actually giving the Black girls Black hairstyles instead of having them wear it out.

Before, it felt like the (all-white, for context) hair department was just ignorant about Black hair, so they put wigs on the Black actresses and only did styles that also work on nonblack hair for their own sake/convenience. This theory was especially supported by the fact that Tara, whose 4c hair couldn't really be styled the same as nonblack hair, wore a twistout that would take literal hours to do every day, but she had box braids in s2! and Elle has box braids now!! I'm so excited!!!

I also feel like this fits her bold, fashion-loving personality so much better than leaving her hair out. Our hair is basically its own accessory, and the long box braids are very feminine. Again, I'm not saying not having a protective style isn't feminine or fashionable (I myself am a fashion girlie with an Afro), but having one is another outlet for her creativity, and I'm glad they're recognizing that now.

[beautiesofbygoneeras]

Rosa Domaille aka Eve Eden - 1960s Era British Glamour Model.

[letssleepfuckandeatx]

Barber got bored and braided my hair yesterday, and I'm here for it.

[femgineerasolution]

My friend plaited my hair for me yesterday and with the way the roots have been growing out I kinda love it, definitely need to redo it before download this year though

[akamine98]

fanart Darjeeling

[bigbrainbiology]

I'd like to be able to stream and hang out when I draw one day <3

I decided to name this OC 'Saengdao' - แสงดาว, meaning 'Starlight'

Whilst it's not quite how Thai nicknames work, I think shortening her name to 'Dao' - ดาว, as a nickname would be cute as this also means Star!

[bellarina9]

ldn

[wiggituk]

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Share your daring and stunning looks with the world, and let your imagination run wild! Boost your appearance with Expression Braiding Hair and discover a world of expressive, head-turning hairstyles.

[solitude4chiron]

Hobie Headcannons cs some of y’all be treating this man like he’s some white goth nga that’s never had black experiences 😭😭 these are js off the top of my head so don’t tweak out… JUH VIBE

He’s most likely Jamaican/British or African/British because he’s from the UK

He has had multiple people try to force him into playing basketball at least once because he’s 6’5

“Man, so you telling me you ain’t never tried going D1?”

“Never even played.”

“NIGGA WHAT?”

Has gotten his hand popped multiple times from touching his hair while getting it done

“How many do you have left?”

“Boy move that damn hand.”

Gives horrible advice then says “but I don’t kno, thats just me”

“She cheated on me bru. Like cheated. Called me ON FACETIME while they was hunchin.”

“Me personally I would find the guy and start a gas leak in their house while his family is sleeping. But ion kno, that’s just me tho.”

Played soccer as a kid with a makeshift paper soccer ball

Was one of those kids who were forced to finish their plate before leaving the dinner table so he would sit at the table till the next day playing with his food

Illegally listens to and downloads most of the music he likes

“Wanna do a Spotify blend?”

“Y’all use that shi?”

“who df are you bro…”

Will side eye you till you burst out laughing if you both see something crazy in public 

Sung chi-chi man religiously as a child before he knew what the song meant (iykyk)

Takes pictures of white people with braids or locs

Hobie: Attachment: 1

disgusting creatures…

Hangs trash bags on his doorknobs around the house

Had entire debates as a child with older people at the cookout on why he should be able to eat ribs instead of hotdogs

“These steaks for the adults, go grab a lil hotdog and a juice.”

“But why? Can’t we both eat and enjoy the same things without you having to dehumanize me and view me only as a child without preferences for food?”

“Boy go get that fuckin hotdog and caprisun get out my face.”

Had his hairline pushed back astronomically far when he was little (Nigerian boy canon event)

On the other hand he probably never had his hair cut as a kid and started free-forming when he was young (I’m conflicted between both)

Constantly had a smart mouth as a kid (he still does), like CONSTANTLY. Once he got his lips snatched and balled into a fist

Would steal, get caught and say is “it cause I’m black?”

“Yo, were you stealing back there?”

“Why bruv? Cause I’m black?”

“Nevermind.”

Touches hot ass food with his bare hands. Like he will flip pancakes with his hands.

Can literally sleep anywhere.. like anywhere. People in his band have pictures of him hunched over on sinks, sleeping on bathroom floors, in bathtubs with the curtains wrapped around him, on the bus. Anywhere you can think of.

He doesn’t spend much money on birthday gifts or gifts in general. He likes to make things by hand even if he has to spend a few weeks

After his shows he loves to meet people in the crowd, even if they freak out. He isn’t really for the idolizing so he doesn’t know how to express his emotions too much on that.

“OH MY GOD HOBIE!?!”

“i aint think i was that special but thanks luv”

• His jacket makes HELLA noise and he doesn’t realize it. Just like if he had beads in his hair.

“imma get bro good this time..”

“Hobie don’t even try to scare me, i hear that big ass jacket thumpin down the hallway.”

• The first time he kissed a girl with lip piercings like his, they got caught on each other. They sat there for almost half and hour trying to untangle each other without hurting each other.

• He’s definitely been called a few different celebrities before, none really looked like him.

“Are you playboi carti?!”

“Bruv.”

over.

“Your that rockstar dude lancey right?”

“bru…”

and over.

“you Opium?”

“I’m starting to feel this is lowkey sterotypical…”

and over again.

• When he’s in the pit at concerts he looks out for the younger people towards the front to make sure they don’t get thrashed around too hard.

“you good young’n?”

“I CANT FEEL MY FACE”

“that’s cool too”

• He only really steals from big corporations, not small family owned places. Just out of respect. Even when they say he can take things for free he still pays, maybe a few dollars over budget.

• He loves collecting trinkets and little things he finds on the streets or backstage. He has multiple spoons, buttons and scrap fabrics laying around

• When he first learned about capitalism he realized it everywhere, like EVERYWHERE. That boy was pissed.

• He loves girls who can beat him tf up, like whoop his ass. Or girls who will cuss him tf out. Sometimes you both will be arguing and he’ll just sit back and let you go off on him.

anyways yawl that’s it lmk if I should drop some more this was fun asl to make 😛

[aquatinaashly]

looking for you🫶🏾

[pickingupmymercedes]

Not now, not ever - Lewis Hamilton

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

summary: Having her pressed to him brought back how important she's been to keep him grounded.

warnings: Angst, Mercedes 2024, Monza 21'.

wordcount: +1K

a/n: Hello everyone, I felt like angsty was in order. Sorry to bring that accident 😶, but yeah, hope you guys enjoy it!

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

Defeated and exhausted, that was Lewis scotched in his airplane seat with you tangled in his arms, asleep beside him. The flight back to the UK after a disastrous Japanese Grand Prix held all the weight of the race, the frustration of the poor performance, and the uncertainty of his future with Mercedes weighing heavily on him.

Gently cradling you in his arms, Lewis pressed his face into your hair, breathing in your scent, finding solace in the familiarity and warmth of your presence. His fingers lightly traced the contours of your back, feeling the steady rhythm of your heartbeat against his chest. Holding you like this; he felt a fleeting moment of peace amidst the storm of emotions and uncertainties that surrounded him. He whispered softly, barely audible above the hum of the airplane engine, " Thank you for always being there for me, even when I'm at my lowest”

He held you close, drawing comfort from your presence, knowing that whatever happened, you had been through much worse and had always stood strong together. As he looked down to your sleeping figure, the scene brought back a nagging memory on repeat, a night back in 2021, when you had comforted him after a nightmare. Now, as much as back then, you were his anchor, his safe haven amidst the chaos and uncertainty.

You were jolted awake when his entire body lurched, causing him to drop you abruptly onto the mattress. His breathing was rapid, coming out in sharp puffs as he hid his face in his hands, his shoulders tense under your arms as you held him from behind. You waited patiently, holding him until his breathing began to even out. Eventually, he turned to you, fear evident in his eyes. Without a word, you pulled him into your embrace, running your fingers through his braids and soothing the tension in his arms.

You had never seen that happen to him – that nightmarish episode that left a haunting impression. It had been two days from the crash with Verstappen in Monza. You'd traveled with him to NYC under the pretense of having an important. No one knew about the two of you yet. A few stolen moments here and there, and nights tangled in each other were all you had. He returned to his penthouse almost at dawn after the Met Gala, quietly ushering you from the bedroom you were occupying to his own bed. His friends, drunk from the after party, were oblivious to the fact that your supposed meeting was just a cover-up. The real reason you were there was that you couldn't bear to be apart from him after that crash.

Hours seemed to pass without either of you uttering a single word. The mere press of each other’s bodies was enough to ground you both. By the time Daniel knocked on the door to let him know they were headed out and assumed you hadn’t spent the night, it was well past noon. Little did he know, you had been there the whole time and would continue to be there for the rest of the day.

Lewis had witnessed similar episodes with you, most often triggered by situations related to Ayrton. Sometimes it manifested as restlessness, with you tossing and turning in bed. But on other occasions, it was far more severe. You'd wake up cold, tears streaming down your face, a scream caught in your throat, and a deafening ringing in your ears.

When these episodes occurred, Lewis knew exactly what to do. He would hold you tightly, his fingers lightly tracing your skin and scalp, while he repeated reassuring words over and over. And when you finally became aware of your surroundings, he'd listen attentively as you spoke about whatever had triggered the nightmare, comforting you until you fell back asleep in his arms.

As the sun began to set, casting a hauntingly beautiful golden hue through the penthouse windows, you went to find some food, Lewis hot on your feet, taking any opportunity to find himself wrapped in your arms. His arms securely around you, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your back as you leaned into him even while you waited for the stove to warm up the takeout from the previous night. The events of the day had left both of you emotionally drained, the scars of the past resurfacing with a vengeance.

The weight of the nightmare and fear of the unknown had taken its toll on both of you. The emotional strain was palpable, the shadows of past traumas lingering in the corners of your minds, waiting to strike when least expected. "You don't have to go through this alone, you know," you whispered, your voice filled with genuine concern. "I'm always here for you, no matter what."

He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude, love, and pain. "And I'm here for you" his voice softly reassuring you “Always."

Lewis smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He pulled you closer to him, cherishing the moment of fragile peace and understanding between you. The bond you shared was unique, built on trust, understanding, and unconditional love. Despite the challenges and nightmares that sometimes haunted your nights, the love and support you provided each other were unwavering.

As night fell, Lewis led you back to the bedroom, ensuring you were comfortable and safe before joining you in bed. He held you close, his presence a constant source of comfort and reassurance. You drifted off to sleep, protected and loved in the arms that secured you so tightly.

Lewis remained awake; his gaze fixed on your peaceful sleeping face. The haunting memories of the accident with Verstappen in Monza played in his mind, and a shiver ran down his spine as he thought about how close it had come to being his end.

His thoughts were consumed by the accident, the fear of losing you, and the nightmares that had been haunting both of you. The emotional strain was palpable, and tears welled up in his eyes as he continued to watch you sleep, his mind tormented by the events of the past and the shadows of the traumas you both had endured.

The room was silent except for the soft, rhythmic sound of your breathing. Lewis leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead, his heart aching with love and fear. He whispered words of love and reassurance, hoping that somehow, you could feel his presence and know that he would always be there for you.

He tightened his grip around you, pulling you closer as if trying to protect you from the world and the nightmares. His mind was filled with what-ifs and worst-case scenarios, the weight of the past and the uncertainty of the future pressing down on him.

"We almost lost it all," he whispered to himself, his voice choked with emotion. "Gosh, I can't lose you, not now, not ever."

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[jinxxangel13]

Phantom of the Night

Chapter 1

This will be a 141/female oc, with possible variations down the line depending on the route I take with a pairing.

Updates will hopefully be once a week, depending on my work schedule. So thank you everyone for being so patient with me!

Hope you enjoy!

~Masterlist~ -Next-

The helo finally started its descent. The front of the vehicle housed a quiet man with a bright smile as he spoke into his headset to the only other person in the air with him. The woman sitting behind him held onto her seat with a joyous laugh at the man's jokes.

“Nik, stop or my stomach is going to burst!” The woman was finally gaining control of her breathing as he landed on the helipad perfectly. Not that she expected anything less from the Russian man who had become a friend over the course of the last few years they had known each other.

With a deep chuckle, Nikolai shuts everything down as she unbuckles herself and starts to gather her backpack and two large duffles, dropping them to the ground out of the door before tossing another duffle towards him.

“Come on, Nik. We’re already late because of you.” She joked towards him, jumping down from the helo without difficulty. Funny now that she thinks about it; she had seen recruits hit the ground like a sack of potatoes more times than she could count, and here she is able to do it in her sleep most likely.

“Says the one who made me late, Kitty Kat.” He rolled his eyes and followed after her onto the tarmac.

She shook her head at the nickname, taking the hair tie out of her hair to let her braid out of its bun and grabbing her bags to find her way through the new base in search of only one person.

The two of them were attracting many looks, Nik seemingly used to it, but the woman next to him was definitely uncomfortable with the eyes on her but kept her head up as they made their way through a set of doors.

Nikolai stopped at a standard wood door, knocking before walking right in. The woman followed behind him and set her bags right next to the door before looking around the room.

It was a moderate sized meeting room of sorts, multiple swivel chairs scattered around a large mahogany table that took up a majority of the room. Two fairly large men were standing in the corner farthest from where Nikolai and Kit were at the door, one of which sported a black balaclava with a white skull imprint on the front and a UK flag on the front of his tac vest, while the slightly shorter man had some sort of weird mohawk and an SAS patch on his chest. There was another man, younger than the other two, dark skin and short hair sitting on the opposite side of the table.

There was a TV stand set up in the corner behind an open laptop between the larger men and the youngest, with the woman the pair came in looking for was standing. The person in question was standing just behind the small screen, an average size woman in her mid forties with brown hair pulled out of her face. She was standing hunched over the laptop with a man in his mid to late 30’s, brown mutton chops and some kind of odd looking fisherman hat. 

A boonie hat? She hadn’t seen anyone wear one since she was younger.

“Kate Laswell, good to see you again, old friend.” The woman finally spoke up from next to Nik.

The older woman across from her snapped her head up to the voice. Kate's hard set eyes softened after taking the other woman in for the first time in what seemed like years, a smile appeared on her face as she relaxed slightly at the sight of the 5’9” woman. 

The woman next to Nikolai had dark hair that tumbled down her back in a long braid, piercing silver eyes that seem to observe everything all of the time, and olive skin that was only disrupted by the sight of freckles across her face. She wore a grey long sleeve shirt under a camo jacket, black cargo pants and boots expertly laced up, with a small neck wrap tucked into the back of her jacket,

“Captain Felis. You know it is always a pleasure.” Kate walked around the man next to her, holding her hand out to Felis, to which Kate was pulled into a much needed hug.

Both women checkled as they stepped back from each other, Kate turning to address everyone else in the room but looking towards Nikolai.

“Thank you for the safe travels, Nik. I appreciate not being thrown from a plane this time.” Kit nagged, shaking his hand before he nodded with a chuckle.

“One time, Kit. Laswell, Price, a pleasure.” Nik turned and walked back out of the door and shut it behind him.

Kit sighed as he left, looking back towards the group in front of herself and Laswell.

“Captain Felis, I'd like for you to meet Task Force 141. This is Captain John Price,” Kate motioned to the older man she was conversing with before Felis came in.

Price walked around to shake Kit’s hand, with her returning the firm handshake.

“Nice to meet you, Captain Price. Most people just call me Kitty, or Kit.” She shrugged with a gentle smile.

“This is Lieutenant Ghost Riley,” He motioned to the larger man with the skull mask. “These are my Sergeants, Gaz Garrick and Soap MacTavish.” Price nodded towards the younger dark skinned man as Gaz, and the mohawk as Soap.

Kit nodded to the three of them, recognition flashing in her eyes at their names, having seen their files from Laswell a few months prior to being requested on this particular base.

Laswell waved her hands towards the table to get everyone seated. Kit took a seat closer to the door with her back to the far wall and the door in her line of sight. Old habits die hard.

Price sat next to Laswell at the other end of the table, with Soap sitting next to him, Ghost standing behind them and next to the door, and Kyle sitting to Kit’s right on the other side of Laswells and across from Price.

“Gaz, Soap, Ghost. Captain Felis is going to be your doctor on base, and a field medic when needed.” Laswell passed a folder to Price, most likely Kit’s if she guessed correctly. “As well as a strategist and stealth specialist.” 

Kit took a deep breath, leaning her elbow on the table.

“I hope that’s the redacted version, Kate.” Kit chuckled softly, meeting Laswell’s eyes. 

Laswell shook her head with a gentle smile. “As if you’d give me access to any other.”

Both women laughed softly together, much to the confusion of the four men in the room.

“And don’t worry, boys, I know how to handle myself with anything thrown at me. That’s a guarantee.” Kit shrugged, eyes meeting everyone's gaze head on with no fear.

[jpnriikicore]

Hihi I was wondering if you could do a Colby Brock x blackFem!reader? Where Colby (try’s to) help reader with her hair or Colby doing Things from her culture and things like that?

── cute hair clips

paring colby brock x black!fem!reader, word count 245, genre so much fluff, authors note sorry it toke me so long ! i’ve been working on some other writing pieces. hope you enjoy 🫶🏻( masterlist )

"i bought these hair clips for you. i thought they were cute and colorful." colby plopped on the bed next to you showing you a collection of colorful star and butterfly hair clips.

"go ahead then" you beam a smile at him, you move closer to him. his hair reaches around you waist pulling you into his lap as he leaned against the headboard.

he to carefully place some of the cute clips in your hair and around your braids.

him and sam got back from a well needed trip. they’re traveling in less than a week to investigate a famous haunted place in the uk. your head prop on your hands as you stare at him loving as he explained something explainably haunted happened during their trip. you swear haunted just follows them.

you swear you saw stars in his eyes. his sun kissed face was too irresistible. you received many pictures and videos of him on the beach during his trip. in the moment you place a quick chaste kiss on his sun kissed nose.

he stops in his track of placing a hair clip in your hair. a laugh rumbles out of him. "what was that for?" a bright smile plastered on his face.

you shrugged picking loose threads on the bed comforter. "you so looked so cute that i couldn’t resist."

after he finished decorating your braids he gives your head a two gentle pats. returning a chaste kiss to your nose. earning him a fit of giggles from him.

© JPNRIIKICORE, 2023

[extremelyblackandwhite]

pairing: dad!bucky barnes x au pair!reader

warnings: age gap (reader is 10 years younger than bucky), smut (18+, dni if under 18)

author’s note: things are picking up now xx

masterlist

and you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars

Waking up on a Friday was also the toughest thing to do. At least, it had become an issue ever since Sadie realised that the 5th day of the week usually meant the last one at kindie before she got to spend the next two days at home. In fewer words, the two year old had learned the concept of a regular working week which is a feat considering her father blatantly disregards the sanctity of a Monday to Friday work week in favour of a messier approach. Y/N was almost sure his motto was screw work-life balance; nevertheless, Sadie made it incredibly hard to bathe and dress with all her excitement with what to do over the weekend, specially since Steve was around.

She finished brushing and braiding Sadie's hair, straightening her uniform so she wouldn't get yet another passive aggressive note from the PTA mums complaining about tidy uniforms - as if it was possible to get a 2 year old to be tidy. The two went downstairs with Sadie running to the breakfast table once she saw some donuts laying around which she was sure to only eat the pink icing of and hand Y/N or Bucky the donut itself.

There was something ... off. Bucky was silently buttering a slice of toast and Steve was staring into the further wall which Y/N knew was not that interesting.

- Who died? - Y/N asked as she sat down.

- It's Friday morning, Y/N. Sorry if we're not singing Kumbaya my lord. - Bucky replied, taking a bite of his toast.

- Thank god, you can't hold a tune. - Y/N smirked, helping Sadie place a napkin on her lap. - We're gonna need to get Sadie a new uniform, by the way.

- A new one? - Bucky looked up from his plate. - Swear we bought her that one a few months ago.

- We need to get the winter uniform. She doesn't fit the one from last year and it's starting to get chilly.

- Take the AMEX and buy it today. - Bucky fished through his wallet before handing Y/N the gold card. - Oh, get her one of those lunchbox thingies. I saw some kids with them the other day.

- Hm, now describe such lunchbox thingie, Sergeant.

- What do you mean? The thingies the kids carry along with their lunchbox for soup or water. The round thing.

- A thermos? Why would Sadie need a thermos?

- Yeah Bucky, she's a 2 year old not a college student. - Steve said, handing Sadie a donut. - She doesn't need one.

- Y/N get her one. Get one for yourself too, you eat soup right?

- I have a thermos, thank you.

Sadie, as expected, ate the sprinkles and frosting off the donut and handed the half eaten donut to Y/N. She excused her from the table, kissing the top of her head and sending her on her merry way to wash her hands and get her backpack, leaving Y/N to bring the dirty dishes to the kitchen. Bucky followed behind like a puppy, carrying some leftover pastries and fruit to put in the fridge before they ended up with fruit flies.

- Are you going to Columbia today? - he said, opening the fridge nonchalantly.

- No. I'm going to come back home after dropping Sadie. I have some online meetings booked with some experts in the UK and France about some topics in my PhD and the library didn't have any available private rooms.

- I'll ask Steve to come down with me to the office then.

- That's not necessary. - Y/N loaded the dishwasher with the plates, looking at Bucky, taking a very good look. He didn't look as put together as he usually did. His hair, usually wavy yet gelled into place, was messy and he wasn't wearing his suit yet. - I'll just go to my bedroom.

- You can use my office. - was he trying to get on her good graces once more? - The internet signal is better there.

- It's your office, Sergeant. I'm not gonna use it.

- I absolutely hate it when you call me Sergeant. - he shut the fridge, leaning against it. - Look ...

He sighed, his eyes not meeting hers.

- I'm sorry. - those words came from his lips very slowly, as if it pained to say them and if Bucky were being honest it pained him to say them. Bucky wasn't sorry but that didn't mean he wanted Y/N to hate him forever. - It's not my place to interfere with your relationship.

- I know. - she shrugged. - If you think your opinion of my love life interferes with it in any way, you're wrong.

- I'm just trying to look out for you. There's a lot of wolves in New York.

- I'm not a country bumpkin, Sergeant. I know how to look after myself.

- So ... are you and Chris Davis dating then?

- That it none of your business, Sergeant.

- It actually is. - he smirked. - You see, you are my employee, he is my employee which means if two of my employees are dating they should tell HR.

- You're not HR, you're the CEO.

- Maybe I multitask, how about that?

- That would be illegal and a conflict of interests, Sergeant. Besides, why are you so interested in my relationship? Are you bored of yours?

- He's just not the type of guy I would picture you with.

Of course not. Bucky had always considered Y/N would end up with someone ambitious, someone who'd crawl and give blood, sweat and tears to get what they wanted. Chris Davis, although not a complete dunce, was not that. He was smart but he wasn't innovative - what he was good at was packaging old ideals to newer audiences. He didn't come up with new marketing ideas, nothing that hadn't been done and when he did it was usually under the guide of an executive. He wasn't his worse employee but he also wasn't his best and Bucky wanted Y/N to have the best.

- Clearly. - Y/N dried her hands. - As if you have a good track record of relationships.

- Is this about Anna? Are you still pissed off because of Anna?

- You can't treat people like crap and then expect them to forgive you.

- I know but you have to understand that me and Anna ...

- You are a father first, Sergeant. You can't potentially hurt your child because you're so blinded by this stupid notion of "a real family". You and Sadie are a real family, you don't need Anna and you can't force her. If Sadie was any older she could've gotten very hurt.

- I know but if it had gone well ...

- Bucky. - Y/N interrupted him. She didn't want to be mean, she didn't want to be hateful about a woman she'd never met, specially the woman who birthed Sadie. - If you think the woman who left a baby in front of your door and has never attempted contact would suddenly change your mind, you're naive.

- You wanna know what's funny? - he moved away from the fridge to get closer to her.

Y/N almost took a step back. She didn't like being close to Bucky, it was always weird for her. Bucky, despite being her boss, was an attractive man, an attractive and imposing figure and she sometimes would find herself divided between fear of what he would say and fear of what she usually did at night when she thought of him.

- I don't think anything is funny about that situation.

- Anna would've liked you. - he said before turning around, almost happy that he'd gotten her a bit speechless for a while, happy he got to be the dominant one for a bit. - And you would've liked Anna.

- I doubt I'd like any woman who would willingly sleep with you.

- She didn't like any woman who would willingly sleep with me either. - Y/N rolled her eyes, not really understanding what Bucky was trying to get at. He was always like this, jumped over bad moments looking for some peaceful solitude in an off hand joke or confusing statement. - Are we gonna continue being mad at one another?

- Who said I was mad at you?

- Fine, if you're not mad then take my office upstairs for your meetings.

Before Y/N could reply something regarding his very flawed logic who wouldn't win him any debate, Sadie came walking through the kitchen, dragging her backpack through the floor and her yellow raincoat so Y/N could help her onto the plastic garment.

- Hey squid. - Bucky lowered down to her help, taking over Y/N to help Sadie into her raincoat. - Do you want a thermos?

- What? - she looked at him eyes wide, probably not knowing what a thermos even was. The red head looked at her au pair, looking for clues about what her dad was talking about. Y/N just smiled and shrugged. - Yes.

- See? Told you she wanted a thermos. - Bucky picked her up to kiss her cheek, directing his voice towards Y/N.

- She doesn't know what a thermos is, Bucky. - Y/N took Sadie from him.

(...)

When she returned from dropping Sadie off, buying her an overpriced uniform and a thermos which she would probably only use by the time she was 12, she found an empty house. Bucky had made good on his promise, leaving a note telling her Steve was with him as well as where to find the key to the office. The office was usually locked due to Sadie, according to Bucky, having almost gotten hurt. If Bucky's dramatic retelling was to be believed, when Sadie had started to walk she'd manage to get into the office and grab a stapler which she was keen on using until Bucky caught her. However knowing Bucky and knowing 2 year old Sadie who still struggled to reach the handles of doors, she reckoned he was overreacting or probably saw something similar in one of those "scare the parents" TV shows.

Nevertheless, the office/study had been locked and Y/N had never had been inside, yet once she got inside, it looked like what she expected Bucky to have as a work space. It was white, bright and minimalist with a few knickknacks from when he had been stationed in Italy and some first version novels which had undoubtedly came from his mother. His desk was deep mahogany, neatly kept with all contents at a 90 degree angle.

She moved to seat on his chair, putting her laptop on the middle of her desk and logging into Zoom. She waited for the right time, her eyes hoovering over everything in his desk from the gold pens, to the tape and the photo frames. He had a big photo of Sadie when she was a newborn followed by a few others, yet what called her attention were two gold circled frames - one with a photo of Sadie and Y/N when she had first started to work for them and one of Y/N and Sadie at Christmas.

She didn't allow herself to dwell much on it, she had meetings to get to. Besides, this was nothing big. It was just a photo of his daughter that he liked which Y/N happened to appear in. She had bigger fish to fry now than wondering about Bucky.

(...)

The work day wasn't any better for Bucky. Steve was being, well, Steve and to describe Steve is to describe someone who likes playing both sides to get to a decision which everyone is happy with. He knew he shouldn't have brought up the stuff about his wife, Steve would never try to break a relationship, heck he wouldn't even think it. Nevertheless, now Steve and Y/N were upset at him - maybe they can unionise and start a little "We hate Bucky", maybe they'll get branded thermos.

- Sergeant Barnes? - his assistant knocked on the door. She was pretty, very pretty and Bucky was almost certain they'd slept together ... almost. Yet today not even the pretty assistant could sort his mood out. - Christopher Davis wants to talk to you.

- Christopher Davis? - oh yes, the best way to make his day, seeing Chris Davis. - What does he want?

- He says it'll be a quick word, Sergeant Barnes. Should I send him in?

- 5 minutes. - he sighed, closing his laptop. Maybe making Chris Davis squirm would make his day, yet again, he was sure the "We hate Bucky" club would not enjoy that. Besides, it was hair washing tonight for Sadie and last time he tried, he had ended up inside the bathtub.

Chris Davis walked into the office, the mere sight of him ignoring Bucky. Did Y/N seriously find that attractive? He was so bland, so boring, the only interesting thing about him was that he was rich and Bucky was almost certain he only finished his PhD because his godmother is Professor Anderson. Nevertheless, here he was, taking a seat in one of the chairs of his office without even asking. This is the guy who gets to see Y/N naked? Life really is unfair.

- What do you need Davis?

- I know this will probably be crossing a line but I was wondering if you could let Y/N have the weekend off.

- What Y/N? - he cocked a brow at him.

- My Y/N.

- My daughter's au pair Y/N? - Bucky rested against his chair, looking down at the man in front of him. - Why?

- I was thinking of taking her to the new restaurant downtown but she said she was busy with Sadie. I wouldn't ask but it's really hard to get reservations and I got one and I would love to take her.

Oh, this was fun.

- Y/N has always had the weekends off. She doesn't work weekends unless she wants to, specially not this weekend which I'll spend at home. Besides, she doesn't have a fixed work schedule.

- Oh ...

- Maybe fix your communication issues with her before you come and waste my precious time, Davis. You can go now.

(...)

Having meeting after meeting had really wasted all energy Y/N had and to congratulate herself for not crying when someone suggested another alteration to her project with a thick French accent, she decided to cuddle against one of Bucky's many small yet cuddly cashmere blankets in the couch of the living room watching Gilmore Girls. She was close to snoozing off when the front door opened and closed. It could be Bucky, Steve or a burglar but she was much too tired to actually check.

- Oh, Y/N, do I have some gossip to share with you. - Bucky. It was Bucky and it was the first time she'd heard him say the word gossip. That couldn't be good.

He walked with a douchey smile to stand in front of the TV, sitting on top of the coffee table and staring at her, just waiting for her to question him on it and she was much too tired to avoid playing his game.

- What? Someone you fucked got pregnant?

- Someone came into my office asking about you. I didn't know that you were gonna be busy with Sadie this week. Isn't Steve taking her to Coney Island?

- What?

- You're using me and my kid as an excuse not to go out with Chris Davis? - he chuckled. - What? Is he a bad lay or something?

- Oh shut up!

- Small dick?

- This is highly unprofessional. - she turned around to face the couch.

- And sleeping on my couch isn't? C'mon, tell me, Y/N. Are you tired to pretend to orgasm or have you just figured out he's just bland.

- You're such a child! - she got up, folding the blankets so she could get away from her but he kept going after her. - Why don't you go pick up your daughter?

- Steve has her. I wanna know more, I thought everything was okay in the Y/N-Chris relationship. Is he one of those guys who cries when he cums? Is that it? Is he a crier?

- Why won't you shut up?

- Or maybe he can't find your clit. You know, he can barely find the copy room sometimes and that's way bigger.

- He is perfectly fine, I just don't want to hang out and I didn't want to hurt his feelings but because you can't lie to save your goddamn life I know have to go.

- He's taking you to Le Coucou, you may want to brush your hair before you go. The poor thing fought so hard to get reservations but obviously you prefer to eat buttered noodles with Sadie.

- I have been to Le Coucou.

- I know, I took you there. - he smirked. - And here I was thinking you'd soon start bringing your boyfriend around.

- I don't want to go. I'm tired, I need to wash Sadie's hair tonight and that will take time and I am not in the headspace to get ready.

- I'm sure Chris would love it if you came in with a soaked white t-shirt.

- You're a dick, Bucky.

Before Bucky could continue with his teasing about it, Y/N's phone started ringing. She grabbed it from the counter and put it up to her ear as she saw Sadie's school number. Bucky watched, mostly hoping it was Chris so he could tease her some more but as the colour drained from her face, he realised he wasn't. She put her phone down and looked at Bucky.

- We have to go. - Y/N looked overwhelmed, looking around fo something. - Sadie has appendicitis. They called an ambulance and she's going to the New York-Presbyterian Hospital.

- Shit. - Bucky rushed to grab his keys.

- Where's her toy, where's a toy? - Y/N started throwing pillows around, looking for Sadie's cuddly toy.

- Y/N, let's go.

- NO! - she screamed at him. - She's scared and when she's scared she needs her toy and I knew, I knew she was a bit off when I dropped her off and I should've known better and I ...

- Y/N. - he held her shoulders, stopping her in place. - I'll go find her toy, get the car going and drive there.

- But yo ...

- I'll get a cab. Now you go and stay with her, I'll meet you there with the cuddly toy. Go.

taglist: @talesofadragon @themermaidscales82 @winters1917 @vladsgirlxx @stinkerbelle007 @maybefoxysouls @blackwood-bodecker-housewife

[daydreamgoddess14]

Heatwave

Full Masterlist

Sydcarmy Masterlist

Syd, Carmy and a heatwave which threatens to tip things over the edge...

it's hot as balls basically everywhere I think atm? Anyway, it's hot in the UK so this popped into my head.

~~~~~

If you can't stand the heat, get outta the kitchen. 

If you can't stand the heat… Get. Out. Of. The. Kitchen. 

Get. Out. Of. The. Kitchen.

Sydney was at least 96.8% certain that she was going to die in this kitchen today. Which, coincidentally, was the temperature outside. Inside, it was a cool 104°F at least . She didn't dare look at the room thermometer Marcus had brought in with him for fear that she'd crawl into the walk-in in tears and never come out. They'd put a rule on breakdowns in the walk-in. Only 2 allowed per week, and Richie had bagged both of them already thanks to Tiffany's engagement party. She was bracing herself for the pomme puree and the steam, bicep work out, and overall exertion it would inflict on her, when she felt a cool hand sweep under her braids and leave a damp washcloth behind. She couldn't stop the low moan that tumbled from her mouth, or the breathy,

"Fuck me."

"Too damn hot." 

"It wasn't an offer, Carmen." She tutted, rolling her eyes. 

"Obviously not if you're full naming me, Sydney." He teased. 

"Behind," she called, lugging the steaming pan of potatoes over to the sink. He followed with a strainer and took over. 

"Here let me," steam billowed up between them, obscuring her favorite view of his arms. She had a running total of how many times he stepped in to lift something she or Tina would have struggled with. She wondered vaguely whether he was the one doing it on purpose. The helping, the little quips, the overall being better . The tension had been simmering gently beneath them since the day after the soft open, probably before that if she really cared to admit it. He'd called them all in, apologized until there wasn't a dry eye in the house, and made it clear he'd spend as long as necessary making amends to each and every one of them. 

 

She'd walked out. 

 

He'd followed her out back and stood perfectly still while she shouted, screamed and cussed him out. Words that she'd probably never said aloud before were hurled at him with ease, and he took it all. She shouted until she was hoarse and exhausted, eyes streaming with tears and head pounding like his fists on the metal door the night before. When she paused to catch her breath, he'd moved into her space and put his hands on her shoulders. All out of words, she hit out physically, and he took it as she rained fairly useless and ineffectual punches onto his chest. If she'd had a right hook like Richie, he probably would have been far less accepting. Eventually, she succumbed to silence, and still, he stood there. He'd wrapped those damn arms around her even as she still fought against him, pushing her hands on him to try and move backwards. She gave way to indifference, arms limp at her sides until he'd whispered a heartbroken beg for forgiveness into her ear, and her resolve crumbled like dry bread dough. She accepted the apology but made it abundantly clear that forgiveness would have to be earned. He became more present and dedicated than she'd ever seen. Their working relationship, firstly, had blossomed because of it, easily followed by their friendship and now… well. If suggestive banter or innocent touches were Olympic team events, they were gold medalists. 

 

"Get some air, Syd." He suggested as the steam died away. He looked as bad as she felt, hair damp, and what looked like a permanent sheen of sweat coated his skin. 

"Is it any cooler out there?"

"No, but there's air?" She nodded and took the offer. They'd carved out a few meters of shade by snagging one of the old tablecloths on some rusty hooks and had moved a couple chairs out of the sun. 

"Too damn hot." She repeated his words back to him as he approached, taking the seat next to her. 

"Yeah. What're you thinking?"

"Really?" She opened one eye to look at him, "what's the coldest I can get the shower to go later." 

"Not cold enough."

"Heard, Chef. You?"

"What's the maximum fine for a health code violation." She looked confused, "naked cooking." Came the explanation. 

"Ok, one - gross, and two - last time I did it, I burned myself, so it's a no from me."

"Where?"

"Where what?"

"Where'd you burn yourself?" He asked, turning the already considerable temperature up on their conversation once more. 

"Uhuh, you'll never know."

"Never? We'll see." She shook her head. She normally enjoyed the push and pull, the raising stakes of who gives in first and changes the subject when it gets too much. But this heatwave had been going on for days, and the combined heat is just too much. She's too damn hot to keep up a witty repartee and try to make him blush. Plus the heat only makes her think more of their sweat slicked bodies together. She found herself wondering more and more often how long they'd keep this up. What would be the thing that brought about change? Did it just disappear again as gradually as it arrived? Was it a simple one and done fuck it out of their system? Or did they carry on in this perpetual state of winding each other up and then, as she did now frequently (so, so frequently), bring herself back down. If she could do it without spontaneously combusting, she'd wonder if he also had to do that as often as she did. As if on command, an image of him with his hand on his cock pops into her brain before she can stop it, and she has to grit her teeth and press her thighs together to stop from making a sound. 

"It's too fucking hot." She grimaced and headed back inside before she could accidentally make eye contact and have him read her mind. 

 

The next day was just as bad. The sun was gone, but a sweaty, muggy heat remained and that was somehow worse. There was no breeze at all, no air, everything was hazy. They'd sent everyone home who didn’t need to be there, preferring to survive the evening on the bare minimum number of staff rather than have a packed out kitchen or front of house. Fak hovered, mumbling something about stressed pipework and expansion but Syd ignored him and refilled hers and Carmy's iced waters, hands brushing together as he eagerly took it from her. 

"Isn't there, like, a point where you can drink too much water and get ill?" She asked, downing half her cup in one go and leaving condensation drips to travel down her chin and neck. 

"Fuck knows. We need to 86 half the menu tonight."

"Heard, Chef. Already gone through it with Richie." She handed him the revised menu for the evening. 

"No swordfish?"

"Do you want to stand and sear it on the hotplate all night?" 

"Definitely not."

"I thought not. I swear it's so hot in here I think I could turn my back into a hotplate." She shook her head and mumbled, "fry a fucking egg on my ass." He laughed so hard he nearly threw his water across the room. 

"We should try that." He suggested once he'd recovered and received a glare in response. 

"I need air." She took her cup and refilled it again on the way out. In the tiny not-really-a-corridor between the pot wash and outside she heard a gurgling rumble near ground level. "The fuck?" She looked down to see a drip of water escaping from the pipe. "Fak?" There was no response initially, "yo, Neil, get your ass out here?" It happened just as Carmy comes to the door to ask what's wrong. The pipe groans and creaks, "hey, can you get Fak, I think there's -" water everywhere. Everywhere . It sprayed out from the pipe in a forceful gush and got her right in the face. "Holy fucking shit!" To his credit, Carmy shut the door behind him and grabbed at the coats on the hooks in front of them. Syd pulled off her apron and dropped to the floor, using it to press against the pipe to stem the flow of water while Carmy used the coats on the gap at the bottom of the door so it didn’t get into the kitchen. They were both soaked to the bone and the water just kept coming. 

"Fak, where the fuck are you?" Carmy shouted over the sound of the water, Syd tried to hold the gap in the pipe but it only made the water gush harder at odd angles. Finally, finally , Neil appeared by the back door, "shut the fucking water off, Fak!" He had to go round to the front and into the kitchen the long way to get to the stop tap. Syd let go of the pipe as soon as the water slowed to a trickle, and sat back on the wet floor with her back against the wall, trying to catch her breath, 

"Fuck. That was," there were no words, "... that was crazy. At least it was clean water." She lifted the edge of her soaked t-shirt to wipe her face. He wasn’t talking and she had no idea why - he wasn’t calling out for Fak or cursing the heat, the pipes, the pool of water they were literally sitting in. She looked up to see what was wrong and he just stared back at her. “What? What’s wrong - did you get hurt?” She moved forward on her knees quickly, half crawling towards him when Fak opened the kitchen door.

“I knew it, I knew the pipes wouldn’t take the heat,” he sighed, taking in the sight of both of them sitting in an inch of water and looking, presumably, like drowned vermin. “Woah, wet t-shirt competition!” He covered his eyes and turned away. Syd looked to find that her plain white t-shirt had clung to her body like a second skin, her non-padded black bra and dark pebbled nipples completely visible.

“Shit,” her arms covered her modesty but the damage was done. Fak left quickly, mumbling something about repairs before they opened and Syd stood as quickly as she could without moving her arms. Carmy cleared his throat,

“Sorry, that was really fucking inappropriate, I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t think… didn’t realize. It’s fine. Should have left my apron on.”

“Yeah. You’re dripping,” he started to say,

“Excuse me?” Her eyes were like saucers, her voice was barely a squeak,

“You’re uhh, you’re dripping. You should change? You wanna uhh… you should use the office? I’ll start clearing up, Manny will be here in a few, and then I’ll get changed. You got spare clothes?”

“Yeah, yeah I think I’ve got some stuff to get by with.”

“Let me know if you need a shirt, think I’ve got a couple.”

“Thanks,” She hesitated, his shirt was also plastered to his skin, the faint outlines of more tattoos just visible through the transparent fabric. She swallowed and looked back up to eye level and he moved aside to let her through. She waded to the lockers and office without a backwards glance. The second the door was closed behind her, she was able to let out a shaking breath. Fuuuck. Assessing the damage, she peeled off her t-shirt and bra, and slid her Dickies down her legs. There wasn’t a single dry item of clothing that she could put back on so all she had was a clean cami crop top and another pair of Dickies. No underwear, no bra. Not even socks. She was just about dressed again when there was a faint knock on the door,

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah, sure.” She’d pulled her braids back into a high bun and reused her damp scarf to hold it up off her neck, the cami left her arms and shoulders exposed but she has her custom jacket hanging up to put on later to cover herself. The crop top left a line of her stomach uncovered. She wasn’t sure it had ever been seen in public before, and certainly not by Carmy. Learning from previous mistakes, she covered her breasts by crossing her arms - no bra meant she may as well still be wearing a soaked t-shirt for all the dignity it provided.

“You good?”

“Fine, not ideal but, y’know,” she shrugged. “Hey do you have any spare socks?”

“Yeah, think so. Shit, even your socks?”

“Literally every item of clothing I was wearing is just… fucking soaked.” The statement lingered in the air,

“You should hang them somewhere outside, let everything dry out.”

“Gonna do it now. Need some help with the clear up?”

“Nah, Manny’s got it and Fak’s repairing the pipe.”

“Will we have water for service?”

“He tells me so. We’ll see, it’s Fak.” She hummed in agreement and turned her back on him to grab her wet clothes from the floor. He stepped behind her and she felt a featherlight touch on her tattoo. “You have a tattoo?” He stated, tracing the outline and causing goosebumps to pick up across her shoulders and back. She tried to speak, but the words weren't forming. His other hand went to the bare skin on her back, knuckles grazing the dip of her spine. “You’ve cooled down.” She nodded, it’s all she can do. He was so close, she could feel the cool damp from his t-shirt and it was still so oppressively hot in the kitchen that she just wanted to lean back into him. Her breath was already ragged and he’d hardly laid a finger on her. The knuckles on her back turned to fingertips on her bare waist with the faintest, almost imperceptible grip. She felt his lips ghost over the back of her neck and then a tiny kiss directly on her tattoo. It felt like all of the heat from outside and from the kitchen had all pooled in her stomach. He held her a little tighter and her body flooded with longing, a sigh escaping from her mouth. The clothes dropped to the floor with a wet slap, and she turned in his arms. There was so little space between them, it was blindingly obvious that she didn’t have a bra on. “Fuck, Syd,” he rasped, his hand coming up to cup her breast over her t-shirt, the pad of his thumb skimmed her nipple. She arched into him, her hand was already bunching his t-shirt in her fist as he nudged her nose with his, their breath mingling. His eyes were locked on hers, waiting for her agreement,

“What the fuck happened, Fak! I thought you said the pipes would be good?” Richie’s voice boomed through the kitchen just as she’d leaned into him, and they sprang apart instantly.

“Yeah Richie, when it’s not plus 100, dude! Everything falls apart in that kinda heat.” Syd grabbed her clothes again and was out of the door before Carmy could say a word. She shoved her bare feet into her work crocs and darted outside, stepping over the rags thrown down to soak up some of the water. Manny had moved the coats they’d originally put down and hung them outside. Communal outerwear which had been there since spring turned to summer and people came to work in a coat but didn’t leave with one. She made a mental note to take them to get cleaned before anyone would need them again. 

“Any damage?” She asked Fak on her way past.

“Only the pipe, you guys managed to keep all the water to the pot wash. Nothing in the kitchen.”

“Great. We good for service?”

“Well see.”

“We gotta be, Fak.” She told him firmly.

“You got it Syd.” Outside, she flung her clothes over the back of one of the chairs and dragged a hand over her face. Everything falls apart in that kinda heat. She heard Fak’s words over and over. 

“Yo, you good?” Carmy asked as he stepped out and did the same thing with his clothes as she had. Of course the only sign of the mishap inside for him was his wet hair, while she looked like she’d gotten dressed in the dark and forgotten most of her clothes. 

“Yeah. Gotta get on with prep, we’re behind.”

“Heard, Chef. I’ll be right there.” He grabbed her wrist as she passed him and asked the question again without saying a word. She nodded and threw him a small smile.

“Later,” she assured him. “We’re all good, Chef.” She confirmed and headed inside.

 

It was a quiet night, for which Syd was eternally grateful. Just one full cover and turnaround on tables, the latest seated at 7.30pm and out by 9.30pm. The quiet night however, left plenty of room and time in the kitchen. Fewer people around had seemingly given Carmy a free pass to make his presence known around Syd. Any normal night and she’d barely have time to look at him other than when answering him. She’d suggested that she take the expo while he manned hers and Tina’s stations with Connor on his own and Daniela’s. 

“You sure?” He asked as she tied her apron,

“Yeah, I’m faster.” 

“No you’re not,” he scoffed.

“Yes, I am.”

“Not. What’s the real reason?” He asked quietly, looking around to see that they were as alone as they could be in the open kitchen.

“No reason.”

“Bullshit.” 

“You want the truth?” She asked.

“I do, say more please?”

“I need to not have your voice, like, talking me through it all fucking night. Ok?” He looked a little hurt and she realized how her comment had sounded, replaying it in her mind, “fuck, I didn’t mean…” she stepped closer and dropped her voice so that only he could hear her. “It can be distracting and I don’t need that distraction with half the kitchen staff out. Ok?” She’d moved over to the expo and started setting up while he was still processing her comment. 

“Distracting?” He raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Shut up. We’re not talking about this, I said what I said and that’s it,” she waved her hand as if to brush the comment away and out of the conversation, “done.”

“We’re coming back to this conversation.”

“We’ll see about that. 10 minutes to open, Chefs. We good?”

“Yes, Chef.” came the slightly reduced chorus back. 

“Excellent, let’s get it done and get out of this furnace.” They moved quickly through the tables, Syd’s constant stream of information and requests flowed through the kitchen with ease. Hands were exactly where they needed to be, nothing needed to be refired and despite the heat, the atmosphere was calm and relaxed. Despite his voice not being as much of a distraction, he still found other ways. Small touches to her back as he passed behind her, brushes of her hand when he brought her plates and every time he caught her eye she was sure she could burst into flames.

“More hands please and thank you.” She called out as Carmy brought three plates forward along with a refilled cup of iced water, “thank you, Chef.” She murmured, stealing a glance at him.

“Y’welcome, Chef.”

“Chefs, stay hydrated please, and do not sweat into my plates.” She reminded them.

“Yes, Chef.”

“Carm, you good?”

“Yes, Chef. Just trying not to be a distraction.” He smirked. 

“If only that were possible.” She retorted,

“Maybe some pointers?” She fought the grin pulling at the corner of her mouth but ignored him,

“Connor, your station done?”

“Sure is, Chef.” 

“Gorgeous, thank you.” The young chef beamed at her. 

“Ok, last table are ready for desserts and then we’re done, lizards.” Richie confirmed, Connor left his stations to cover the final desserts over on Marcus’ empty section while Syd went through the night's tickets and Carmy started clearing up. 

“So back to my being a distraction -” he started, she continued counting while he continued talking, “can we get into that, please?”

“Right now?” She carried on counting,

“I mean, later works for me?” he saw her hands falter on her count, she paused to remember where she was up to and then carried on,

“Yep, sounds good, I’ll cook.” She finished and clipped the tickets together, adding a sticky note to the top with the totals as Connor brought the final desserts over,

“Hands please, Richie,” she called out, wiping the plates. 

“No smudges.” She and Carmy both told him as he collected them. “Outside?” She asked, reaching for her nearly empty cup. “Connor, we’ll be back in 5. Take a break if you want.” She collected Carmy’s cup on the way past and refilled both of them. Outside, the heat was still fierce even in the twilight. “How is it no fucking cooler yet?”

“Better than in there.” He slumped into one of the chairs and lit a cigarette. “Good service.”

“Not bad, considering. Heat’s supposed to break tonight.” She muttered, looking up at the sky.

“Maybe it will.” He replies, looking at her.

“Maybe. I’ll go finish clean up.” She leaves him with the sun nearly fully set behind him. Connor, bless him, had nearly finished the basic clean down. Leftovers boxed up and labeled ready to go in the lowboys, surfaces cleaned and sanitized and the floors swept. It’s about all she’s willing to do tonight, if the heat breaks she’d be there early in the morning anyway to go through everything properly. She thanked Connor and sent him on his way, hearing him say goodbye to Carmy as they crossed paths in the pot wash. 

“Don’t forget your stuff.” He handed over her clothes as she took off and folded her jacket carefully. She stuffed her sun dried clothes into her bag while he shut off the lights, and she followed him out to his car. They drove in a comfortable and easy silence that didn’t call out to be filled. She wasn’t entirely sure what she’d say anyway, there was too much of a sense of inevitability in the air. “How’s the new apartment?” He asked. They'd all helped her move in the week before to a tiny ("It's bijou, Richie!", "It's fuckin' tiny, Syd.") studio apartment closer to the restaurant.

“S’good, yeah. Still a bit basic, but I’ll get there.” 

“You’re dad missing you?”

“He says so, but I think he’s just happy he can watch as much Jeopardy as he wants and eat potatoes for every meal again.”

“Living the life.”

“He’s loving it. Considering I was out of the house probably 15 hours a day, I think it’s a stretch to say I cramped his style, but that's the angle he's going for.” She pointed out a parking spot which she knew wouldn't get ticketed, and he followed her up to the fourth floor. She could already feel her heart pounding in her throat, the heady combination of nerves, anticipation and wanting, but he seemed so calm. For someone usually so weighed down by the expectations of others and the stresses of the restaurant, he was effortlessly laid-back. He was approaching her within seconds of walking through the door, stepping right back into the same space he'd occupied in the office earlier in the day. He placed one hand on her jaw which she covered with her own, and one on her hip, softly stroking the bare skin there. 

"This ok?" He asked, tentative but firm. She could hear in his voice that he had no reservations about the radical change they were about to make to their friendship and fuck, the confidence was definitely something. 

"Yeah," she replied, trying to sound composed. "Yes." She repeated firmly, "yes." He guided her a step backwards and held her against the small table in her kitchen. She waited for what felt like an eternity as he brushed his thumb over her cheekbone and across her bottom lip, taking his time to really look at her. His eyes never left hers until he finally looked at her mouth. The hand on her hip moved around to her back, she still felt sticky with sweat and the temperature was only increasing with their proximity. He didn't seem to notice or care at all as he captured her lips in a kiss. She hadn't known what to do with her hands but they moved unconsciously up his biceps, tracing the line of muscle. She worked her fingers over the knots in his shoulders and tangled them in his hair. He growled against her, deepening the kiss and sliding his hand up her back under her t-shirt so he could draw her closer with a firm hand between her shoulder blades. The heat of his palm against the bare skin of her back drew a low moan from her, she broke the kiss for air so he moved to the column of her neck. He sucked at the soft skin at the hollow of her throat and licked the sheen of sweat. "God, I feel gross," she breathed a laugh. He ground his hips against hers as if wanting to show her that he didn't agree. The length of him pressed into her thigh was enough for her to buck against him. She busied her hands in pulling his damp t-shirt off and his fingers brushed the underside of her breast as he went to do the same thing, 

"May I?" He asked,

"Please, yes." She sighed, lifting her arms. He dipped his head to catch a nipple lightly between his teeth, "Oh f-fuck, Carm,” she moaned, “please don’t stop.” His kisses moved back up her neck, 

"I'm not gonna stop," he murmured, palming her breast, "not ever going to stop, baby." Her hips bucked against his again in a frantic attempt to find pressure, fiction, anything . 

"Carmy -" She whined, 

"Tell me what you want?" She groaned in frustration, coherent sentences the furthest thing from her mind - or capabilities - her hand moving to his waistband instead. He took her hands in his own, "how long have you wanted this?" She wrestled her hands back and worked on her own waistband instead, pushing her Dickies down over the curve of her ass.

"Too long," she perched on the table and pulled him closer, 

"Zero patience." He teased, 

"Fuck you." She retorted, kissing him along his collarbone, running her tongue over the new-to-her tattoos and tasting the same sticky saltiness that covered her own body. 

"Gross?"

"I don't care, we match," she laughed, reaching again for the button of his pants. She popped the button and stopped, "sure about this?"

He took his hands from her hips and cupped her face, brushing his nose against hers, "Absolutely fucking sure." She pushed his pants down over his hips and wrapped a hand around him, his jaw tightened as he jerked into her. "Fuck, Syd," He rasped. He reached behind her to where he'd thrown his bag onto the table, and dug through blindly until he'd found a condom. "You're so good for me." He kissed her softly, pushing into her slowly. The table groaned dangerously as he fucked her, his pace increasing. She pushed back against each thrust, matching his hungry pace. Their sweat-slicked bodies worked in symphony and it felt like Carmy was adapting in the moment to every catch of her breath or garbled, breathless moan. "That's it baby, I've got you." He grunted, leaving a bite mark on the soft flesh of her shoulder. The table rattled and Syd gripped his shoulders,

"Don't break my fucking table," she warned. He brought a hand down between them in reply and worked his thumb in circles on her clit. His hips snapped against hers and she could feel her legs tremble as he brought her over the edge with him, her name positively reverent on his lips. She fell limp against him with a choked sob. She let her forehead rest in the crook of his neck while he rubbed her hips where his hands had gripped her so tightly she was sure to have bruises. "That was… god, why the fuck did we wait so long?" She asked, moving to look at him. He laughed, kissing her damp forehead and tucking a couple of stray braids behind her ear. He pulled out carefully and discarded the condom. She stepped down gingerly from the table, trying to work out who had the more stable legs of the two. She swayed on the spot a little and immediately decided the table was doing better than she was. He handed her his t-shirt and she put it on despite the heat. "Now I definitely feel disgusting."

"You shower, I'll cook." He told her, opening the fridge, "uhh filled pasta and tomato sauce? Wait, is this Mikey's?" He opened the plastic container and sniffed the contents. 

"Yeah. I was fucking around with a roasted tomato and basil filling for the pasta using his recipe but it's not there yet so this was the leftover sauce I had." 

"You made it here, at home, just because you wanted to?" She took the container from him and put it next to the stovetop so that she could loop her arms around his waist. 

"Yeah, it's the first thing I made when I moved in." She kissed him lightly, "so I'm going to shower because I currently feel more sweat than human, then you can do the same? We can skip the tour - bed's over there." She nodded in the direction of her bed which took up most of the space in the small room. He stopped her from leaving with a searing kiss that left her leaning into him once again. "Hmm, I'll be back," she murmured, gathering the clothes they hadn't put back on and throwing them into her laundry basket. The cool shower felt like bliss after the heat and grime of the day, followed by the sweaty sex. Stomach rumbling, she hurried to switch with Carmy and plated the food while he showered. 

"You didn't give me a real answer before, when I asked how long?" He said once they were sat on her sofa with her bare legs in his lap, 

"I was busy," she grinned. "Honestly? Maybe straight away but everything was too chaotic to know for sure? And then that day I came back and there was tomato juice on the walls and the floors and just fucking… everywhere and you didn't care, you just looked at me. That's when I knew I was totally screwed." She stopped to inhale more of the rich pasta, "you?" 

"The day I met you."

 

The heatwave broke overnight with rain and thunderstorms, but all Syd cared about was the delicious warmth of Carmy between her legs. 

 

FIN