#It feels really funny for him to clarify that he's giving me his phone number platonically when we haven't even gone on a date lol

[sysig]

We are both exhausted

[ticktokrobotsnot]

Vapor

This is Part 2

You can read Part 1 here.

Pairing: Carmen Berzatto x fem!reader 

Summary: An accountant helps Carmen organize his not-so-shit-restaurant and gets invited over for family dinner. 

Word Count: 10k

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The sky was blood orange and the reflection on the store window was mesmerizing. Y/n was supposed to be in the office getting ready for the full day ahead of her but she couldn’t resist slacking off for a bit, it was nice to finally enjoy the restaurant with no one inside. Y/n needed to be here early when a potential vendor came by to give some quotes. Carmen’s initial reaction was to stand his ground and act like some faux bodyguard because he couldn't fathom why some “sick fuck” would want to be alone with a woman in a restaurant at the ass crack of dawn without them having bad intentions—said it wasn't safe at all. Y/n had to inform him that the, “sick fuck” was a woman. And as soon as Carmen heard that, and realized they were going to be talking numbers for a while, he ran off to the farmer's market, wanting no part in that snooze fest. 

Y/n grabbed her laptop and started reviewing the binders she organized. Just as y/n was about to check her phone for any messages, she heard a knock at the door. A pretty blond woman looks at y/n with a bit of confusion. This woman wasn’t expecting to see y/n and y/n wasn't expecting to see this woman. Y/n walked to the door and opened a crack. 

“Who are you?” Y/n questioned. 

“I could ask you the same thing.” The women laughed but y/n wasn’t finding this funny.

“Natalie…” Y/n shook her head like a bouncer sending a teeager away without his fake ID.

“Natalie Berzatto.” She clarified and y/n recalled the name as a co-signer for The Beef, now The Bear. Y/n opened the door a bit more to let her in. 

Y/n gave her name but she didn’t know what else to say but Natalie was already filling the space. 

“Hi! It’s so nice to finally meet you, Carmen won't stop talking about you. You really saved our asses. Especially with the file organizing stuff, I found the old payroll stuff in like a minute, you're a real savant with stuff like that. Carmy is a real sticker for cooking but he is a real shit-”. It didn’t take a genius to figure out Natalie was nervous.

Y/n knew that Natalie was a part of Carmen’s family but she didn’t know how they were connected. One plausible scenario was that she was Micheal’s widowed girlfriend or wife, which would explain why anyone would co-sign the disaster that Micheal had created and promptly left. Y/n wondered why Carmen would be getting so chummy with his widowed sister-in-law, but then again men have done worse. 

Y/n bit the bullet, “How do you know Carmen?”

“I'm his sister… Sugar?” Y/n was starting to feel like a real idiot for not being able to piece these easy deductions together, she was losing her edge because it was to fucking early in the morning.

“Yes, Richie told me that “Sugar” was going to stop by this week. What can I do for you?” Y/n didn’t mention that she thought Sugar was going to be a stripper because of the name. 

“Actually I came to pick some old tax stuff… Micheal’s tax returns.” Y/n guided her to the office. Even if she didn’t look back she knew that Natalie was spying on her binders and laptop laid out on the counter, trying to find out a bit about y/n. 

“So, Carmy tells me that you two used to work together back in New York.”

“Yeah it was only for a few years.”

“Were you close?” Natalie probed. 

“We were…strangers at best.” Y/n chose to leave out the messy parts of her and Carmen’s origins. 

Natalie shook her head in disbelief. "That can't be true, he actually came to my place one day, pretty late. You know why?" Y/n, not knowing the answer, simply shrugged her shoulders. 

"He said he needed to make an important phone call, someone from his old job. He said that he wanted to ask for a bit of help." Natalie continued, her voice tinged with wishfulness "I thought maybe he was finally going to therapy or something." Y/n felt a strange sensation, like she was staring directly into the sun, hope gave Natalie a beautiful glow. 

Natalie's smile softened as she added, "And you know what? He made that phone call right on our porch." Her words carried a touch of warmth. "Well, at least he's reaching out for help. It's a good thing, right?"

“I recommended therapy to him too but I think we would need to put a gun to his head for him to actually go." Natalie let out a humored exhale. 

There was a lull of silence after she handed the tax returns. Y/n could sense that Natalie wanted to talk some more so y/n directed her to the bar stools out front. She checked her phone and saw that her vendor had a family emergency and needed to reschedule. After shooting a quick ok, she directed herself to face Natalie. 

"You can ask me anything. I've got plenty of time to kill." Y/n offered, feeling generous considering the recent kiss shared with Natalie's brother just a week ago.

“I was here a few times but I never had a chance to meet you?”

“I was probably apartment hunting.” Natalie looked like she was debating asking her next question.   

“What did you think of Carmen when you guys were back in New York?”

“He was like every other chef.”

“Nothing else? No pulling force?”

“No pulling force.”

“You moved state lines for him and you're saying there was no pulling force?”

“He asked me for help and I gave him some.” 

“You chose to stay. There had to be a pull.”

“The restaurant spoke to my soul, I had to stay.” Y/n was bluffing. 

“Bullshit, there was a pull.” Natalie said with a self fulfilled smirk like she had won a point in their imaginary game.

Natalie continued, “You know, he won a Michelin star. A man who cooks…is not too bad.”

“I don’t eat gourmet food. It’s pretentious.” Y/n didn’t want to make too much out of the kiss and make Carmen panic.

“I'm sure he can make something you will like.” 

“I have yet to eat something of his that would warrant him having a Michelin star.”

“You don’t like his cooking?”

“I don’t like anyone’s cooking.” Natalie couldn’t come up with something else. Point to y/n. A smile spread across y/n’s face and Natalie was relieved to realize that y/n wasn’t being serious. 

“What do you like doing?” Natalie probed. 

“I spend most of my time working here but I also read.” 

“Why did you leave New York?” Natalie blurted out.

“I don’t like working with other people, my boss was all over me. I thought Chicago would be a nice change of pace.” 

Y/n saw Natalie unlock her phone to respond to a text from someone named Pete, who had a pink heart near his name. Y/n knew that memorizing people’s passwords was an invasion of their privacy but it was fun to be a bit nosy. 

Y/n was also tired of getting the third-degree, she was hoping for a few fun questions asking if she ever murdered anyone or if she ever was contacted to be a part of a bank heist. She would be lying if she wasn’t a bit afraid that whatever she said would be relayed to Carmen so she didn’t want to say anything too damning. 

“You read romance?” Y/n saw the book peeking out of Natalie’s bag, it was one that she had read before. 

“Yeah, they’re my guilty pleasure.”

“Mine too. I liked that one.” Y/n pointed at the book peaking out.

“I hate it, it's filled with miscommunication. I’m only finishing it to justify the 12 dollars I spent.” Natalie said with a fake pout. 

“I love miscommunication because I suck at talking to people too. Much better than the one I just finished.”

“What killed your book?”

“Third-act break up.” Natalie nodded her head, it seems like they agreed. 

Y/n couldn't help but feel relieved; while the nature of Y/n's relationship with Carmen remained uncertain, it was evident that Natalie would become a more integral part of the restaurant. Carmen's recent discovery of three hundred thousand dollars hidden in tomato cans had sparked ambitious plans for renovating the place. Even if she ended up being nothing serious with Carmen, she needed to secure a stable support who wouldn’t completely hate her if shit hit the fan. 

They continued to talk about a few books that they had read, a few so trashy that they had to hide their faces in embarrassment from each other when reading the summary out loud. 

The door chimed and both women looked over to Carmen who was holding a few bags of produce and baked goods. Y/n went over and plucked the receipts for the top of one of the bags, she didn’t bother helping Carmen because he wouldn’t have let her help anyways. Carmen was gracious enough to put all the receipts together so she wasn’t digging to find them, she kept a record of them to write them off as a business deduction. 

“Nat, you’re here early?” Carmen spared a glance before opening a box of croissants to share and then disappearing to the kitchen to put everything away. 

“Yeah I had to pick something up, y/n was so kind to help me so early in the morning. Isn’t she just the best?” 

“Yeah…How did it go with the vendor?” Carmen mindlessly mumbled while busying himself with a notebook of recipe ideas. 

“Rescheduled.” Y/n didn’t look up, engrossed in cataloging some expensive mushrooms for record keeping. $268.43 for some mushrooms was honestly so ridiculous y/n needed to squint to see if she was seeing this right. 

“I need to return the favor.” Natalie started.

“It was just a few folders, you really don’t-”

“Why don’t you join us for dinner on friday?” Y/n felt like she was performing front and center.

“I couldn’t-.” 

“Please, Pete never wants to talk to me about…” Natalie was raising her eyebrows in the most unsubtle way possible so she didn’t expose y/n's softer side and her penchant for reading romance novels. Y/n couldn’t help but hide her face in embarrassment, “Yeah…fine. Just tell me what time.”

Observing the exchange, Carmen couldn't help but wonder if this was how dogs felt when humans engaged in their own incomprehensible conversations.

Y/n was starting to feel like she was edging closer and closer to Carmen’s limit. Kissing in the back alley of a restaurant and on the car ride to and from work was very different from being invited to his sister’s house for dinner. It carried a weight of intimacy, commitment, and solidity that made Y/n slightly uneasy, wondering if this was too much for Carmen. She waited for the other shoe to drop, Carmen would subtly show his discontent by telling Natalie that she shouldn’t force y/n to go to that dinner, which was just an excuse to create some distance. Y/n was surprised when Carmen asked what type of desert he should bring instead. 

Y/n kept her cool and excused herself to go to the office so she could get back to work. 

Carmen and Natalie moved to the kitchen where Carmen would experiment for a bit. Natalie sat on a stool next to Carmen who started washing produce. 

“She is very smart.” Natalie whispered. She took a glance at the closed office door.

“Yeah. Great with the books.” Carmen peeled and diced some garlic. 

“Nice too.”

“She is very nice.” Carmen started cutting some nepitella. The additional “very” caused some alarm bells to ring in Natalie’s head. She hid her smirk. 

“Everything about her is nice,” Natalie made sure to pay close attention to Carmen’s face, “Nice personality, nice face-” Carmen took a worried glance at the office door and then looked up at Natalie with wide eyes.

“Why, why, what are you-?” He was flustered. 

“I’m just sharing my observations. You don’t think she has a nice face-?”

“This is a business, we try to keep professional.” Carmen hid his fumble with fake professionality, unfortunately Natalie saw right through it. 

“Try?” Natalie teased. Carmen looked away to pretend to look for some dried porcini. He felt like an idiot. He understood why people used to see him as an easy target when he was younger, he basically showed everyone his buttons, and asked them to get pushed. Carmen continued to chop in silence. 

“I'm sorry, I just got a bit excited. I won't push.” Natalie gave her brother the benefit of the doubt, she always thought he would never get into a serious relationship but he liked y/n and y/n seemed like the serious girlfriend type. Natalie couldn’t help but nudge Carmen in the right direction. 

Carmen chopped in silence for a few minutes, debating if he should tell Natalie about the kiss. In his mind, he didn’t know if it was too soon for him to introduce his girlfriend to his family. Calling y/n his girlfriend felt unreal, past him wouldn’t believe it even if he saw it.  

He handed his notebook to Natalie so she could read measurements to him, he wanted her here for just a bit longer till he gained the courage to tell her about y/n. 

Tagliatelle with porcini mushrooms was the first test item of the morning, and he had to soak the dried porcini for 30 minutes, he was bummed that the market didn't have the fresh kind but he knew he would get the real shit when y/n got a hold of that vendor. He looked up at Natalie and tilted his head to indicate that they should leave. Carmen avoided the alley because he knew that y/n would look there first and he didn’t want her to overhear anything. They walked over to a nearby supermarket and started roaming the aisles. It was nearly empty because it was six in the morning. 

“I did something…and I need you to not…just listen and don’t make it a big deal.”

“I got it, Carmy.” 

“A while ago, I…” Carmen looked at all the different types of instant noodles they had on display. “So, we were in deep shit with these pre-orders and I was a mess and y/n and I were talking after…” Carmen moved over to the boxed pasta, he didn't intend to buy anything but he did read the nutritional facts.

“I umm, asked her to…” Jesus, Carmen wondered, why he didn’t make more friends so he didn’t have to talk to his older sister about something like this. Richie didn’t seem capable of giving any advice that wasn’t, “Just Do It”.

 “We ki…” Natalie kept her face hard but the second that Carmen turned around to look at a box of elbow pasta, she couldn't help herself but let out a small, barely audible squeal of delight. Her eyes widened, and a grin threatened to break through her determined facade. Natalie quickly covered her mouth with her hand, trying to contain her elation, making sure not to let Carmen catch a glimpse. She stifled her excitement with every fiber of her being, preserving the illusion of calmness for when Carmen turned back around, none the wiser.

“It’s been a while, and we k…” Carmen didn’t know how he was supposed to maturely ask for advice when he couldn’t even say a kiss in front of his sister while cringing. Carmen couldn’t do this, it was too open, too vulnerable. 

Nat cut him some slack and started asking questions instead, “Was it a one time thing?” Carmen subtly shook his head no. Her lips parted as she squeezed a jar of Pego to contain herself. 

“Do you regret it?” Carmen didn’t respond but that didn’t mean no, that ment that she was getting closer to the root of the problem.

“Do you think she’s going to regret it?” Carmen’s shoulder’s raised slightly, bingo. 

“Why don’t I gauge how she is feeling at dinner.” Nat knew he was about to run away from her for exposing too much and she had to give him an incentive to not follow his instincts. 

She continued, “We talked earlier, she said she hates your cooking.” Carmen’s head snapped up, Nat knew that y/n was just joking but it was still a bit funny to mess with Carmen. 

The look of shock transported her back to when she was eight sitting next to Carmy and watching Micheal convince him to finish a glass of milk or else he would lose all of his teeth to a calcium deficiency. This wasn’t the time to reminisce but it made her heart warm knowing that even after going through so much, there was still a part of young Carmy that persevered. She was feeling the burning in the back of her eyes, her hormones were making her sentimental. 

“Yeah she said that your food fucking blows.” Carmen caught on and let out a small laugh.

They both roamed in the aisle moving on to juices. Sugar free, diet, pineapple, orange. Carmen’s eyebrows raised when he saw the price of orange juice before putting it down and deciding to just make his own. 

Carmen started, “She isn’t the type of person who changes her mind easily,” but if she can make that shift to see him in a good light, maybe she'll stick around and eventually see the real Carmen—a pathetic, insecure loser. All he did was make a promise to her but he knew it meant nothing without actions, and he was unsure if he could control his anger or keep his obsessiveness in check when something especially difficult happened. If another shit storm made its rounds in the kitchen, would he really be able to be the bigger person? Carmen doubted it. 

Carmen just ripped off the bandaid, “I don’t know how to…I want her to not hate me. I know I'm going to..” Carmen waited till a child next to them moved to the other end of teh aisle towards his dad, “..fuck it up, but I dont want that to happen.” 

“What makes you think she is going to hate you?”

“When we were talking…she told me that I should have done better. And that I…needed to be “stable”, but I don’t know how to be that for myself, let alone someone else.”

“She isn’t asking you to do it for her, she wants you to do it for yourself.” Natalie offered. 

“Its like having to solve a word search to answer a stupid fucking puzzle. I don’t…” Carmen sighed in defeat. Nat knew that he was strong and it was impossible for her to fix this for him but that still made her palms itch seeing him struggle like this. She racked her brain, desperately seeking any glimmer of a solution that could offer him even a shred of relief. 

They both walked out the market towards the restaurant. “It's really hard…and it's not that I don’t want to, it just feels impossible.” Carmen muttered, he was close to giving up. 

A burning sensation welled up in the back of Natalie's throat, and she instinctively placed her hand on Carmen's shoulder as a gesture of support and to her surprise Carmen looked at her, saw her glassy eyes and hugged her. The shock knocked a few tears from her eyes.. 

Carmy was not a selfish person but Nat noticed that he was becoming a bit more aware that he takes up much more space then he originally thought he did. He now knew that his presence was big enough to be able to tear people down but was also big enough to offer meaningful support. He had come to understand his own significance, and this realization struck Natalie like a tidal wave, causing her to burst into uncontrollable sobs. 

“Does crying mean I'm fucked, Sugar?” Carmen asked, his voice tinged with humor and uncertainty, as he gently rubbed Natalie's back for comfort. Nat shook her head no.

“You'll be okay. You always are.” Nat wiped her face before continuing to walk back to the restaurant. 

Carmen snuck a few glances to see what was making his sister a sobbing mess, she wasn’t the type to break down like that, “Are you good?” Natalie nodded her head.

“Everything good at home?” It felt strange to say the word home, even after visiting multiple countries and living in many different apartments, Carmen couldn’t really call any place home. Home was supposed to be a sanctuary of warmth, Carmen's closest experience to that feeling was back in his family house—a place where the warmth was scalding and suffocating. Where it was a constant waiting game, anticipating the intense heat to escalate and cause everything, and everyone, to boil over. 

Carmen was acutely aware that he would never have a home quite like Sugar's. He couldn't help but wonder if he had what it took to be like Pete for someone else—always helpful, kind, and perhaps a little too accommodating. He questioned whether he had the capacity to fulfill that role and maintain his own sense of self. Granted, what about his “self” was worth preserving?

Natalie nodded her head but Carmen wasn’t convinced. “It's just a lot, you know. Seeing the place getting renovated. I used to hate that place, but..” She sighed, “...I picked up Micheal’s tax returns, I didn’t even need them for anything…I just wanted to see them to know what he was going through towards the…'' end. She didn’t need to finish for Carmen to know what she was talking about. They were in front of the restaurant and Carmen gave her a side hug and against his better judgment he tried his hand in verbal reassurance so he could be there for her, fully. 

“I think he tried his best to make everything look fine, and it’s nice to know that he was at least able to pretend till the...end.” Sugar looked up at him and didn’t comment on his successful attempt to be her support, not wanting to scare him. 

They wordlessly walked in the restaurant and Carmen finished up his dish. He made enough for one plate because he was expecting to have to remake it a few times. He grabbed a small plate and served a separate plate for y/n before knocking on her door. She looked up at him, not hearing him and gave him a “hmm” which echoed in his chest. She sat with them in the kitchen, taking her laptop with her. They all took the first bite together. Carmen watched both women’s reactions to gauge their uncensored reactions. Natalie’s eyebrows raised and she gave him a nod of approval. 

Y/n took a bite and looked up from her plate so see Carmen staring at her. “Why are you staring?”

“Do you not like it?” 

“It’s good.” Y/n put her fork down and propped up her head on her hand. 

“But, you didn’t-”

“I’m not really a foodie, so food is never like…” Y/n made an explosion sound and flicked her hands open, “Good, is the best you going to get out of me.” Natalie wondered how a chef and an anti-gourmet foodie were going to work. 

“Is all food just ”good”?” Y/n looked up and tried to think of food that was better than good.

“I like mom's cooking.” 

“What is her food like?”

“Intense…subtly in food doesn’t mean anything to me because I don’t taste the difference.” Carmen was waiting for more for y/n.

“I ate a lot of spicy, sour and bitter food growing up. My mom didn’t think that kids should eat different things than everyone else, so I guess pasta and mushrooms will always be just “good”.” Y/n felt like she was just shitting all over his profession but he asked for her opinion so he couldn’t get offended now. 

Carmen nodded his head before walking away. Y/n pierced her lips and looked over to Natalie wondering if she hurt Carmen’s feelings. Natalie looked just as bewildered. Just as y/n was about to find Carmen, he came out with a few more ingredients.

“What are you making?” 

“Something you will like.” 

“I liked what you made-” 

“Good is not enough.” 

“Come on, Carmen, it's something that everyone will like, it’s going to kill opening day.”

“But you have to like it.” Y/n sighed before indicating that he should continue. 

“You won’t be able to serve the food I like to eat, it would be considered a biological weapon.” Y/n was warning him but Carmen thought she was teasing him. He would learn to listen to her warning in the future. He put the porcini mushrooms to the side before getting started on some penne all’arrabbiata. 

Y/n laughed at him knowing that he wouldn’t have the courage to spice up a dish to her standard before grabbing her laptop so she could get some work done and also talk to Natalie about contractors. 

While Carmen chopped and stirred, y/n subtly glanced up at his flexing back and strong arms. She thought she was hiding it well but when she went to check if Natalie noticed she saw that Natalie was already watching her. Natalie snickered as y/n hid her face behind her laptop to hide her embarrassment. Carmen turned around to see what was so funny but was just met with the view of both of them with their faces hiding behind their hands. 

Y/n felt someone pass behind her and knew it was Sydney without having to look up. “Hey guys, what are we making?” She took a bite out of the pasta, which was slightly cooled but she still nodded her head. 

“It’s fire, chef. It would be great if it was hot, I want to remake it to see what it was supposed to taste like.”

Y/n couldn’t say that she completely forgave Sydney but y/n did respect that she went to Richie to give some type of apology after a while. Y/n could accept that the two of them wouldn’t be best friends, they just needed to be able to work together. 

Y/n went to Carmen’s locker before pulling out a few Tums for everyone, it looks like today was going to be pasta day because of her and she didn’t want to send everyone home with a stomach ache.

Carmen continued with his pasta, and served it in front of y/n. All the women took a bite,

“It’s got a kick to it.” Natalie said while reaching for a food container filled with water while wiping sweat from her brow. Sydney gave Carmen a, “This is fire, chef.” Y/n couldn't help but cringe inwardly at the comment because she knew she couldn't quite match their shared vernacular and the ease with which they expressed themselves with food. What private passion did y/n and Carmen share?

Carmen stared y/n down as she took a bite.

“It’s good.” Carmen waited for her to elaborate. “It’s too subtle.” 

Carmen smirked, “Yeah, next time I'll just make you a ball of fire for you to enjoy.” Y/n gave him a shit eating grin, it was just too fun not to mess with him, and when she saw him smile back she felt a bit of imaginary nostalgia, this was what she longed for back in New York. 

The restaurant was still closed for renovations and after a while a few other crew members came by to do some demo. Y/n was stuck on hold with the inspector's office when she was approached by Natalie, “I’ve got a doctor’s appointment so I've got to go, I’ll see you on Friday at eight.” 

The rest of the week flew by because they were on a very strict time crunch to open in a few months. Y/n wasn’t very worried but she could feel the nerves from everyone else and she knew it would be in bad taste to tell them to toughen up, so she let them be grown ups and deal with their own anxieties. 

On Friday, y/n left early to get ready for dinner, she opened an old moving box and pulled out a dress that she wore to an old work function. It was very tasteful because it was freezing outside. Y/n grabbed her gifts before running into Carmen’s car. Y/n took one look at Carmen and had to do a double take to make sure that she went into the right person’s car. Carmen’s hair was lighty slicked back, probably with pomade, and he was wearing a deep blue sweater with a white collar. 

“I didn’t know you had clothes other than aprons and Dickies.”

“You look..” Carmen marveled at the way her eyes sparkled with an inner radiance, drawing him in like a moth to a flame. He knew he wasn’t able to get the full picture yet because they were in a dark car but he could only imagine what she would do to him when they went to the well lit house. “..great.” Carmen wanted to punch himself for being so unoriginal but he couldn’t focus on anything. 

“Thank you, you look good too. Blue is definitely your color..” Carmen’s fingers loosened around the steering wheel, compliments had always made him uneasy; he spent the majority of his life trying to make himself as small as possible and now he was pushed into the spotlight and he wondered if he even liked it?

“Carmen, can you look at me for a second?” And when he swiveled his head towards y/n, she squished his face lighty before giving his puckered lips a soft kiss. Just as she was about to lean back into her seat, Carmen, unable to resist, slipped his hand beneath her hair, grasping the back of her neck and drawing her in for a deeper, more passionate second kiss. 

Yeah, he liked it.

“We are going to be late.” Y/n whispered before giving him one last peck. Carmen, still in a daze, fiddled with the radio so he could get his head straight. The ride to his sister’s house was quiet barring the soft jazz. Y/n was very nervous, they never had that conversation that said that they were official and for all she knew she was just a friend that Carmen kissed from time to time. She resisted the urge to ask right now because she was scared to find out that they were nothing more. She would savor the few minutes before she was inevitably introduced as a friend, or worse a co-worker. 

They pulled into Natalie’s driveway and got out of the car, y/n grabbed the bouquet of flowers and a bottle of wine and they rang the doorbell. 

"Why are you holding the tray like that?" Y/n asked, noticing how Carmen clung to it like a shield. Before she could receive a response, Natalie opened the door with a warm greeting, inviting them inside. Y/n handed over the gifts, but Carmen still clung onto his belongings. Just then, Peter descended the stairs, seemingly about to approach Carmen for a hug before his gaze landed on Carmen's protective tray. He hesitated and stepped back, realizing it was acting as a barrier. Y/n stifled a laugh, biting her cheek to prevent herself from laughing at Carmen’s immaturity.

Carmen greeted, “Pete.” Y/n could feel the dislike and she felt bad for Pete because he seemed nice.

“Carmen, it’s good to see you, man.”

“This is my girlfriend, y/n.” A sense of numbness overwhelmed her. It was like when people get run over by a semi and say that they don’t feel anything. Y/n extended her hand to shake Pete's, and she followed him into the living room. 

Carmen went into the kitchen to help Natalie and y/n made pleasant conversation with Pete, he seemed a bit soft but she could understand why Natalie might want someone like him. Y/n pretended to be interested when he showed her his Cubs memorabilia, she initially thought the Cubs were a fictional sports team made by the New Girl writers. 

Y/n and Pete walked over to the kitchen and asked if they needed any help. Pete looked like he wanted to actually be helpful but y/n had her fingers crossed hoping she didn’t have to do any cooking. It was weird to see Carmen let someone else take the lead while he watched. Even with Sydney, he still watched over everything like a hawk, not because he didn’t trust her, it's just because he wouldn’t let her fail. 

Y/n watched as everyone spoke and she wondered where she fit in. Natalie and Carmen were obviously close and Pete was doing his best to get close to Carmen, trying to bridge the obvious gap between them. Y/n had to stop herself from telling Carmen to either be nicer or for Pete to drop it.

Other than being Carmen’s new “girlfriend” and sharing small talk, what else was there for her to talk about? Y/n didn’t know them well but she could tell there was a lot of subtext between the three of them that added weight to their interactions that she wasn’t privy to yet. She was a flame trying to suck in any bubble of oxygen so she could ignite, she needed more information before she could actually join them.

 It felt like she was reading Dune for the first time, being dropped in the middle of an already moving plot and she was scrambling to play catch up. Carmen had a lot of triggers and she wondered if Natalie was the same. Even if they acted completely differently, y/n could tell that they were sidestepping something, like they were avoiding talking about a gaping bullet wound, and if siblings were acting like that it means that it's a problem with the parents. Despite the fact that they were in the kitchen, the three of them weren’t talking about the food. Y/n made a mental checklist of a few rules; 1. Don’t bring up parents 2. Don't mention food because it's a trigger 3. Pay attention to Natalie because she was not as good at hiding her feelings as Carmen. 

Dinner was served and they all took a seat, y/n took slow sips of wine and saw that Natalie’s wine was slightly darker than hers. Y/n was sitting across Natalie so she recognized the smell too, apple. She was drinking sparkling apple cider. Y/n hid her smirk by talking another sip, she would be a spy or something because she was killing it in the recon department. 

Dinner was starting to feel stiff, y/n took a deep breath and turned to Natalie, “Your cooking is to die for.” Natalie tucked in her lips but couldn’t help but hide her smile, y/n never told Carmen anything like that, barring the first day she got to Chicago, it was a petty way of getting back at him for blindsiding her by calling her his girlfriend. 

“Thanks, It's a family recipe.” Y/n wanted to stab herself with the fork, she just broke rule one and two. Just as y/n was about to make some asinine comment to change topics, Carmen did it for her.

“Can you pass me the bread, Sugar?” Y/n found her opening.

“Sugar, that’s a nice nickname, what’s the story?” 

Natalie paused and y/n had a feeling she fucked up, “We were having this Chrismas family thing and I added a cup of sugar into the gravy instead of salt. The name just stuck.” Y/n definitely fucked up, she was breaking rules left and right. Y/n scrabbled to put herself in the same level as Natalie.

“I’ve been there. My parents were having a few co-worker over for lunch and they brought a box of these expensive mangos and I was told to make some smoothies because it was boiling that day. I filled up the sugar container with salt without noticing and made them smoothies with a ton of salt.” Y/n saw that all eyes were on her and she didn’t allow herself to be nervous because she was trying to get a deeper point across.

Y/n continued, “I have never heard that many people gag all at once.” Their faces broke into a smile.

“What did your mom say?” Bingo, looks like the taboo parent could be narrowed down to their mother. 

“She didn’t say anything bad, she and her co-workers just laughed. I mean I was a kid and we all make mistakes. I ended up making lemonade instead.”

Natalie’s eyes lit up,“It’s a shame that all those mangos went to waste.” Natalie joked. 

“Waste?” Y/n had a fake offense, “I drank the rest to prove that it wasn’t that bad.”

“Was it that bad?” Pete asked.

“My blood pressure was through the roof. It was the first time I ever got a headache.” 

The rest of dinner was a bit more relaxed, y/n was expecting Carmen to talk a bit more because these were his people but it looked like she would have to do the talking for the both of them. They finished up dinner and y/n got up to help them clean up. It was y/n and Carmen alone in the kitchen while Natalie went upstairs to check on something, aka she needed some rest and Pete went to check up on her. 

As Carmen washed the dishes, Y/n stood by, towel in hand, drying them. The domestic scene felt comfortable, yet she couldn't determine if she truly enjoyed this newfound domesticity. She wondered if in Carmen’s eyes she was merely playing the role of the perfect partner – someone who could effortlessly navigate his family dynamics, fix his business, and be his own manic pixie dream girl. 

A selfish thought crossed Y/n's mind. What was she truly gaining from this relationship? She had been too afraid to make a move with Carmen after the kiss, fearing that one misstep could lead her to being shut out completely. She hesitated to voice her preferences about his food, to ask about the nature of their relationship, or to discuss their future plans if this relationship fell through. Y/n wasn't one to dwell in discomfort, except for her previous job, and she felt frustrated that she had to jump through so many hoops just to ensure that Carmen wouldn't leave.

They finished the dishes and y/n could tell that Carmen wanted to check on Natalie but he didn’t want to leave y/n alone. Y/n being a supportive girlfriend, practically pushed him up the steps before walking out the front door and leaning on the porch. Y/n grabbed her jacket and walked out. She underestimated the frigid Chicago air which felt like a sharp slap to her face, serving as a wake-up call. It reminded her that the warm and fuzzy feeling she had been battling within herself was merely fleeting, and that the reality of the world could be much harsher and more painful. 

Y/n couldn’t help but wonder why Carmen was even bothering with her, they had nothing in common but the restaurant. Work was everything for him and Sydney, their shared connection always pulled them together despite both of their volatile personalities. What pulled y/n and Carmen together? They both worked in the restaurant but Carmen didn’t have a passion for running said restaurant, it was a mere obligation that y/n took from him. If she stopped working there, what else did they have in common? 

Y/n came to the daunting realization that Carmen picked Sydney because he saw potential in her, a chance to let both him and her grow. However, he didn’t pick y/n because he saw something deeper in her, it was an act of embarrassed desperation. 

Was she just a means to help Carmen get his shit together? The restaurant meant a lot to Micheal and after he died Carmen stopped seeing the restaurant as something that was out of his reach but as something to connect him to his brother, a small thread connecting the estranged brothers. Y/n was there to hold up the connection in the vaguest of ways, she kept the restaurant afloat so Carmen could come to terms with Micheals’s legacy, good and bad.

She was lost in thought when she heard the door close, she turned her head to see Carmen was already lighting a cigarette. It was difficult for her to be objective when Carmen locked eyes with her with such intensity. Y/n ripped her eyes from him and faced forward looking at the neighbor's yard, they had nice shrubs. 

“I thought you left.” Carmen started as he leaned on the railing with y/n. He looked forward to see what was so interesting that y/n couldn’t look him in the face, it was just some trees.

“I needed some air.”

“You could catch a cold.” 

“I don’t get sick, sick is a mindset.” Y/n was obviously joking. 

She lowered her head so that she could feel the cold metal on her forehead, maybe a different type of pain would make this conversation easier. Her forehead landed on something warm, the back of Carmen’s hand. She turned her head to its side but remained connected to Carmen’s hand. The warmth radiating on her cheek was making her stomach do backflips. Even if she knew she shouldn’t be indulging like this she couldn’t help it. He felt too good and y/n was getting more and more greedy. 

“Hey, Carmen?” Carmen was still staring at y/n. “What do we have in common?” He looked taken aback.

“We like each other…” He was starting to feel the slow slitter of nausea because he knew the other shoe was about to drop.

“If we don’t have much in common, what do we talk about?” 

“We can talk about whatever we like. It’s nice to…be with someone who isn't wrapped up in the same things as me.” Carmen expressed a genuine warmth in his voice. Carmen wanted to say that she made him feel like the roof wasn’t going to collapse on him and that the small things weren’t going to destroy him but it felt selfish to describe how much he cared for her based on how she made him feel and not on facts about her. 

“I don’t care about fancy food.” Y/n blurted out.

Carmen chuckled, “You know about the vendors, where the supplies are sourced, how much they cost, and a bunch of other stuff. You do care, just in a different way than I do.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“It gives me perspective. It’s very realistic and grounded.” Y/n knew he was calling her realistic and grounded. 

“I like hearing you talk about my food.” Carmen offered.

“Even if it’s just “good”?”

“Especially if it's just "good". That means you're telling me the truth.” Carmen recalled a ninth grade world history lesson about the Rosetta Stone, an artifact written in three different languages and made it possible to translate some ancient language. Though he hadn't fully paid attention during the lesson, Carmen now saw the parallel. If Y/n had the courage to express her opinions on his food, it meant she was being honest with him about everything else. 

Y/n cracked a smile before covering her mouth and started laughing. It was a jarring sound, Carmen couldn’t pinpoint what the laugh was meant to convey but he knew it wasn’t good. 

“What?” Carmen asked, Y/n rubbed her face with her cold hands. 

“You said that you were scared of me a while back but now…” Y/n's laughter softened into a smaller chuckle, conveying a mix of amusement and irony.

“I’m scared of you.” The weight was lifted off her shoulders and slammed down on Carmen's. Y/n wondered if this is how the rest of their relationship was going to be; one person transferring their hurt to the other till the weight became too much to bear. 

"It's... I want to bring so many things up to you but..." Y/n wondered if this counted as an accusation. "..you’re so flighty. I don't know what to say that won't make you..." Y/n struggled to find a word that didn't feel so definitive, but the only word that felt honest was, "...leave."

The porch fell into an uneasy silence, both of them grappling with the weight of Y/n's vulnerability.

"I...I didn't realize..." Carmen stammered, his voice betraying his inner turmoil. "I would never just... leave." They both stared in silence, they knew that wasn’t true. Y/n lifted her head leaving the warmth behind, she knew this wouldn’t work if he made false promises. And against everything telling her to just accept his promise as law and ignore any doubts, she couldn’t fool herself like that. 

“That’s such bullshit.” Y/n lighty giggled. It felt as though a shark had promised to stop swimming—it was ingrained in their nature. In that lighthearted moment, a mischievous thought crossed Y/n's mind: What would happen if Carmen actually stopped running away? Would he cease to exist, like a fish in space? 

Her playful musings, though immature, offered a brief respite from the weight of their conversation. It was a temporary escape, a way to diffuse the tension. Y/n noticed that she brought all this shit up to comfort herself but she was giggling to make him feel safe. Even when she knew she shouldn’t, she couldn't help but try to make him feel better. 

As the laughter subsided, Y/n met Carmen's eyes, she forced herself to ignore the emotions he was conveying and instead tried to match his eyes with things she had seen in the past. If this ended poorly, she would miss his eyes the most and she wanted to know what else could match in intensity in case she never got to see him like this ever again, nothing came to mind.

Carmen felt like he was backed into a corner, he couldn’t promise her anything without her, justifiably, doubting him. 

"I don't want to leave you," Carmen offered, his voice carrying a mixture of sincerity and vulnerability. It was the most honest response he could offer at that moment. He couldn't guarantee that he wouldn't feel the urge to run, to escape when things got tough, but he had a genuine desire to stay. 

Y/n's eyes met Carmen's, her expression softened. She knew it wasn't a perfect answer, but it was a step forward. It was enough to know that he acknowledged his own complexities and still chose to be present with her.

They stood in the quiet watching neighbors turn off their living room lights and go upstairs. She wanted to test out whether, “They could talk about whatever they wanted too.” 

“What do you think they’re doing?” Y/n asked, Carmen parted his lips and turned his face to look at y/n so see if she was serious, she was.

“I think they go to bed and she has this super long night time routine and he is already asleep by the time she gets to bed. You?” Y/n knew that if they ever slept over at each other’s place, that’s exactly what would happen between them. 

“She probably got home from a shit day and she starts reading an easy romance book…Do you read any books?”

“They are mostly cooking stuff.” He took a drag from his cigarette.

“You read cookbooks for entertainment?”

“Sometimes, it's a part of the craft.” Carmen realized how fucking pretentious he sounded and was a bit ashamed but seeing y/n refrain from teasing him by bitting her lips made him not want to crawl into a hole and die of shame, her smile was addicting. “…but there is a lot of history and science too. '' Carmen knew he sucked at conversation but he would do anything to keep talking. 

“What was your last book?” 

Y/n and Carmen kept talking till they lost track of time and eventually when they had reached a comfortable lull, y/n could confidently say that they were in fact capable of holding a conversation about mundane shit. 

Against every fiber of her being telling her to end their conversation like this, she couldn’t help but ask, “What happens…if this ends?” Y/n didn’t know if she was supposed to use “if” or “when”; one was cautious, the other was a prophecy. 

Carmen didn’t look back at her, instead giving her, “You’ll still have a job…I’m not a dick…all the time.” Y/n lips curved upwards. 

“Will you be able to work with someone you’ve been in a relationship with?” 

“Yes.” Carmen wondered if the answer could ever be anything other than yes. 

Y/n knew that if this ended badly she would be allowed to stick around so that Carmen would have an excuse to throw himself at his work. She would be the catalyst to merge him from an individual to a vague reflection of Micheal’s legacy. 

Whether or not Carmen knew it, Micheal was a huge influence in his life and just like Micheal began to isolate himself towards the end, Carmen would do the same if they drifted apart. It was his inherent weakness and a relationship gone sour that would make it difficult for him to break the cycle that Micheal had started. 

“I won’t stay if it hurts you, Carmen.”

“I would want you to stay, y/n.”

“There is no trophy that comes with going through unnecessary shit.”

“I know, I would still need you.” Carmen hesitated but eventually placed his hand top on y/n's. 

“Because I can do the books?” Y/n rolled her eyes jokingly. 

“No…you do more than that. You are…” Carmen read books with a shit ton of adjectives, they had to be descriptive to describe food through text. Despite that, he was at a loss for words to describe her.

"You are..." he began again, this time his voice was a little gentler than before. He took a deep breath, hoping that he could find those words that would express everything he felt.

"You are very important to me,". His voice was soft like he was realizing this for the first time. 

The second time was meant for y/n, "You are very important to me."  I love you, y/n. 

Y/n locked eyes with Carmen for a moment. 

"You are important to me too." I love you, Carmen.

Neither of them had the courage to say that to each other, wondering if they were the only one’s feeling like this. 

They both had jackets on but y/n’s hands were freezing and she could feel Carmen’s hand was also ice cold. She knew that they had both reached their limits but y/n couldn’t help but relish in the cold for a bit longer. 

For y/n, the biting cold was always a catalyst for clarity, stripping away the unnecessary and forcing y/n to distill her focus onto the few things that mattered. Amidst the frost, she found solace in the simplicity. It was within this chilling environment that she discovered a clear chance to confront her inner turmoil head-on and confront the world. 

Carmen had always been drawn to the intense heat. It was as if the scorching temperatures matched the fire that burned within him, igniting his passion and driving him forward but leaving him with nothing to look back on. Extreme heat was his poison of choice, his way of confronting the world. 

Carmen’s heat was turning her mind into a messy slurry of slush. Y/n had to force herself to focus despite the fact that Carmen’s hand was providing her with a sliver of intoxicating  warmth.

“You didn’t ask me to be your girlfriend.” Carmen’s head shot up aback by y/n's words. He was excited to introduce her to his family, and he hadn't thought to ask her permission first. He tried to explain himself, his words coming out in a rush.

"I didn't mean to assume anything. I just thought that since we've been seeing each other for a while now, it was... " He took a moment to catch his breath, trying to gather his thoughts.

“I think you should try asking first.” Carmen stared at y/n not knowing if this was a trap to get rejected twice. He opted for silence.

“Carmen, ask me if I want to be your girlfriend?” Carmen didn't want to say the wrong thing, not when it was so important, for someone so important. Carmen trusted y/n so he stubbed his cigarette on the ashtray before taking a deep breath and asking, “Will you be my girlfriend, y/n.” 

Y/n wrapped her freezing hands around his neck accidentally grazing her finger on his neck making him shiver. She leaned in against his lip and even though they had kissed before this, Carmen felt like he couldn’t think. Y/n lips barely touching Carmen’s before whispering a soft, “Yes, Carmy.” 

Carmen closed the small gap between their lips. And y/n felt a gentle heat seep through the folds of her head making it difficult to focus on her freezing fingers, or her numb toes, or her goosebump riddled legs, or her shivering arms. Y/n felt Carmen pull her closer and even though they were as close as physically possible, it wasn’t enough. Carmen’s lips left y/n’s before trailing down the column of her neck, y/n could feel the blossoming of heat radiate from his lips. Y/n’s hands sank down to Carmen’s waist and slowly drifted up his shirt. The cold sent shivers down his spine as y/n’s hands moved at a glacial pace. 

Just as Carmen reached the collar of her jacket he looked up at her and y/n had to resist every irrational and reckless part of her that told her to continue. The realization that they were on Carmen’s sister’s porch made y/n look around to ground herself. She landed on a black box right near the door before looking back to Carmen with her mouth agape and her eyes wide open. 

“What?” Carmen questioned with furrowed eyebrows.

“We are on your sister's porch.” Y/n said with a thousand yard stare and a distant mutter.

“I’m not a fucking animal, obviously we aren’t going to do this here.” Y/n softly grasped Carmen’s face before turning towards the black box, a doorbell camera. 

“Jesus…fuck.” They both looked at each other before y/n scrambled inside with Carmen right behind her. Either they were caught and they had to face Natalie despite the embarrassment or they got to the footage before Natalie saw it.  

Y/n let Carmen lead her to Natalie’s room, who thankfully was still laying on her side, Pete had gone to the restroom. 

Y/n leaned up to Carmen before whispering, “Distract her.” Carmen sat near Natalie and asked her if she wanted some ginger-ale or if he should stop by a pharmacy. 

Natalie's phone was on the nightstand and y/n swiped it when Natalie wasn’t looking before unlocking her phone with the password she acquired from being noisy. She then deleted the footage of the last hour from her Ring app. Y/n wanted to scroll back a few months to watch Carmen call her for the first time but she didn’t have enough time. 

Y/n set the phone exactly how she found it and gave Carmen a subtle thumbs up. 

“I’m fine, I think I need to sleep this off.” Natalie sat up while glancing at y/n and y/n had to resist freezing like a criminal caught in the spotlight. 

“I’m really sorry-” Natalie started.

“Please don’t be. I had a great time. Is there anything we can do for you before we leave?” Y/n felt bad for taking advantage of Natalie’s pregnancy induced sickness but this was a matter of prestige, she wouldn’t be able to set foot in this house if Natalie ever saw the footage.  

Natalie shook her head no and they said their goodbye’s before Camren and y/n practically tripped over themselves running out of that house. They sprinted to the car and slammed the doors shut before bursting out laughing. Y/n felt like she was a teenager again, sneaking her boyfriend out the fire escape before her mom walked in. Carmen pushed his forehead into the steering wheel to laugh and the sound that echoed felt like it was melting itself into y/n’s brain, forever branded into her memory. 

“How many times have you been here, Carmen? You never noticed the fucking camera, you dick?” Y/n struggled to shake off the heat that pulsed up her body, Camren hadn’t even started the car yet and she was burning up. 

“I…I never looked, what kind of freak looks?”Carmen said in between laughs. Y/n gave him a fake look of disapproval.

“Turn the car on, Berzatto, you’re getting on my fucking nerves.”

Carmen turned on his car before pulling out of Natalie’s driveway, he was still snickering and in the streetlight y/n could see his neck turn bright red. 

“Stop by a CVS or something.” Y/n said while fiddling with the radio.

“You think you caught something from Nat.” Y/n resisted telling him that pregnancy wasn’t contagious, men are so fucking stupid. 

“You have condoms on you?” Carmen slammed on the break, lucky they were at a red light.

“N...no.” Scarlet crawled up his neck and up his face. Y/n didn’t know someone’s ears could ever get that red before. Carmen stayed still trying to collect his fractured thoughts. 

“It's green, Carmen.”

He stepped on the gas and y/n was glad that the roads were practically empty because he was driving like he had all the insurance in the world. He pulled over to a Walgreens and ran out of the car. Y/n shook her head at his shit parking, he was in between two spots. Carmen came back in a minute with a plastic bag, y/n could decipher from the shapes that he had also bought some gatorades too. 

Carmen pulled out of the parking lot.

Y/n didn’t recognize the streets on their ride back, “Your place?” 

“Mine is closer.” Carmen replied, his voice tinged with a mix of anticipation.

Y/n could help but giggle, she always loved it when he was desperate. She knew it was wrong, but she always felt such a rush of excitement when her control over him was at its pinnacle and they both knew it.

When they reached a stop sign, y/n glanced over at Camren and saw that he was already looking back at her. 

They couldn’t seem to care that they were wading in uncharted waters and they couldn’t convince themselves that this was going to end badly enough for them to not at least try. If they looked at each other like that, there was no way they were going to let each other go. 

__

End Notes:

Fire + Ice = Vapor; It took me an embarrassing amount of time to think of that.

There is a lot of tension and maturity that needs to be written in smut for it to be good and I just can’t do that. I tried for this one and I had to close my laptop and take a lap because the second hand embarrassment was too much. So those drafts have been deleted and I’m glad I never have to see them again. 

I didn't think people would like Turbulence, I was going to delete it after a few hours and just keep it to myself but i'm glad that people liked it so ig it's here to stay. I tried to keep this one more contained then Turbulence bc writing about multiple days is such a pain.

I really don’t know what else I might write about for these two, or in general, so if you have any suggestions feel free to send them to me. If your suggestion inspires me, you better believe that I'm going to get out of bed at 2 in the morning and start writing. Or we can bury these two in a shallow grave and forget they exist, which is also fine by me because I think fic aged me.

[callsign-joyride]

Could I request prompts 9 and 13 with Javier for Summer of Smut please?

Object of My Desire | Javier Peña

Summary: Being forced to share a room with Javier while traveling was less than ideal. It was even more of a nuissance when you had to share a bed.

Content warnings: SMUT (18+), oral (f receiving), protected p in v

Prompts: “Stop wiggling around, I’m trying to sleep! Wait… what’s tha… oh!” + “I know you said no marks… But what if I put them where nobody except for me will see them?”

Author's note: This is my first time writing for Javier. I made some changes to my taglist form but I will still be tagging people from my TGM part of the taglist. If you don't want to be tagged in my Javier stuff, let me know.

This was written for my Summer of Smut writing event. Feel free to send in requests!

Taglist form (Google form, email is not asked)

You fucking hated traveling with Javier Peña. Aside from the fact that he was generally annoying to be around, he liked to backseat everything that he wasn’t in charge of. You wanted to travel alone but Steve wouldn’t allow it, saying that it’d be “too dangerous” even though you had the same training and experience. Needless to say, you were almost at the end of your fuse when the plane landed. You wanted to sleep on the plane but Javi wouldn’t shut up about how horrible the pilot was. (You didn’t even think he knew how to fly a plane, anyways.) When you tried to read your book, he still wouldn’t stop complaining about everything and a baby started crying. There was a moment of relief as you checked into the hotel for the night.

“You got lucky tonight, miss. This is our last room available,” the lady at the front desk said. You smiled and took the room keys, handing one to Javi and making your way to the elevator with your bag. Javi ended up being in front of you as you walked to the room, so he was the first one. He opened the door to the room and laughed, and you knew that couldn’t have been a good sign.

“Get out of the way. I wanna see what’s so funny,” you said as you shoved him and blindly walked into the room.

There was only one bed. Of course there was. The receptionist never clarified that. She probably thought that you and Javi were a couple.

“Give me that phone book. I’m calling other hotels,” you said as you sat on the bed.

“I’m sure they’re all booked out, too. Plus do you really think the government is gonna pay for you to get a room by yourself?”

“You’re an insufferable asshole. I’m not sleeping with you. I’ll pay for a room myself if that’s what it takes.”

“Fine. Have fun trying to look for hotels. I’ll be right here if you need anything,” he said as he laid on the bed and started reading his book. He was trying not to laugh as you sounded angrier by the minute. You put the phone on the receiver for the last time and glared at him.

“Well, I just called every hotel within a ten mile radius and they’re all booked out. Congratulations on being right, I guess.”

You started to unpack your things while Javi flipped through the channels on the TV. Most restaurants were closed when you checked in to the hotel, but Javi offered to go and get some tacos from one of the food trucks in the area. It took a few minutes of arguing for him to finally leave on his own. You laid on the bed with the phone and the receiver on your chest, dialing Steve and Connie’s number, hoping that someone would pick up. Connie picked up and, even though you loved talking to her, you were more focused on yelling at Steve.

“Can you put your husband on the phone? I’m gonna kill him,” you said. She chuckled and you heard some mumbling before Steve’s voice was in your ear.

“How was the trip?” He asked.

“Murphy, you’re fucking dead. First of all, Peña likes to think that he can control everything. He wouldn’t shut up on the plane about how ‘it’s not how you’re supposed to fly’. Does he even know how to fly a plane? And then we get to the hotel and the receptionist tells us that it’s the last room available. There’s only one bed in this hell hole. I spent thirty minutes calling every hotel within a ten mile radius and they were all booked, too.”

You rolled your eyes as Steve laughed on the other end of the phone.

“Wait a minute, did you plan this?” You asked.

“What if I did? Give him a chance. He’s not as bad once you get to know him.”

“I think he is. You didn’t have to suffer on a six hour flight with him next to you, babbling about how horrible it is that things aren’t going his way. Guys like him are why I like to do all of my work alone. He might be on his way back. I might kill someone.”

Steve chuckled.

“You’re not gonna kill anyone. Have fun. I’ll see you in a couple days, okay?”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Javi came back with tacos and you quickly ate before getting your pajamas and heading for the shower. He had his eyes on you as you opened the door to the bathroom to let the cool air in while you brushed your teeth.

“Those are your pajamas?” He asked as he gestured to the tank top and shorts that you were wearing. You spit your toothpaste into the sinking and rinsed off your toothbrush, leaving it on the counter. 

“Yeah. I didn’t think it’d be a problem. This is what I always sleep in,” you said.

“You might as well not be wearing pants, princesa.”

It was going to be a miracle if both of you walked out of the room in the morning with both of your lives intact at this point.

“Don’t be a pig, Peña.”

You decided to read the book that you brought until you were going to fall asleep. Javi got up and brushed his teeth and took his clothes off at some point, but you were too invested in your book to notice.

“What are you reading, anyways?” He asked. You showed him the cover of the book while you were still reading.

“A western? Are you serious?”

You sighed and put the book down.

“I bought it at the airport because I knew I’d need something to do.”

“You didn’t get a classic like Frankenstein or Pride and Prejudice?”

“I can’t believe you just put those in the same sentence. And no, I didn’t, because I wanted something that would actually keep me entertained. Look at where that got me. I couldn’t sleep or read on the plane so, if you don’t mind, I’m gonna turn my light off and go to bed. I hope you do the same. At least you’ll be quiet.”

“Ouch.”

Javi turned off his lamp and wrapped his arms around you once he got in the bed. You didn’t object. It felt nice to be held by someone. But you couldn’t get to sleep because he wouldn’t stop wiggling around.

“Will you stop wiggling around? I’m trying to sleep. What’s - oh.”

Now that you had drawn attention to it, you were both aware that Javi was turned on. You could feel his length press up against your ass but you weren’t sure if you wanted to do anything about it. You were almost positive that you’d scoot away from him and act like it never happened, but it seemed like Javi had other things in mind as he turned you in his arms so that you were facing him. He took your hand in his and guided it to the bulge in his boxers. The primal urge to kiss him took over and you pulled him in by the hair on the back of his neck. The kiss was a battle of tongues and teeth as he slid your shorts and panties down your legs. He shoved his boxers down and rested his cock against the inside of your thigh.

“So wet for me,” he said as he rubbed his fingers between your folds. He started to kiss your neck and you winced and yanked his head away as he started to suck on your sweet spot.

“You can’t leave marks. We gotta work, y’know?”

He sighed, “alright.” 

He lifted your leg onto his shoulder and left kisses down your chest. You let out a shaky breath as he was level with your glistening cunt. His mouth was on you in an instant and you would’ve been lying if you said it didn’t feel good. He looked into your eyes while he ate your pussy like a starved man and you started moving your hips with the rhythm of his tongue. Your thighs tightened around his head as you came when he ran his tongue along your clit.

“You’re so pretty when you cum,” he said.

“Want you inside of me.”

Javi nodded his head and got up to grab his wallet. He pulled a condom out and put it on the nightstand before standing in between your legs and leaning down to kiss you. He stopped for a moment to slide the condom on and move you up the bed with a pillow under your back for extra support.

“Fuck,” he said as he eased himself inside of you, “I know you said no marks, but what if I put them where no one except for me will see them?” He asked. You moaned a yes and he was beginning to slowly thrust while he put love bites on your chest.

“Fuck - please, go faster,” you said. He nodded and groaned into your ear when he started to really pick up the pace.

“You’re so tight. I don’t know if I’m gonna last,” he said. 

“It’s okay. You’re big and I’m already close.”

Javi nodded and started thrusting into you faster. His thrusts became more erratic and you knew he was close. You wrapped your legs around his hips while he rubbed your clit, making both of you cum. He laid with his head in the crook of your neck for a few minutes before pulling out of you and throwing the condom away in the bathroom trash can. He came back with a warm towel and helped you clean up before going back to holding you in his arms.

“I wonder how long it’ll take for Murphy to notice,” he said.

“Don’t say that.”

Steve didn’t need to figure it out. You let it slip to Connie when you were getting drinks one night and she obviously told him. Only, you didn’t know that until he strolled by your desk one morning saying, “What did I say? He’s not so bad once you get to know him,”.

Taglist:

@littlebadariell @cycbaby @luckyladycreator2 @idontcare-11 @blue-aconite @maverick-wingman @shawty-fenty @littlemisstopgun @rosiahills22 @katieshook02 @justanothermagicalsara @caitsymichelle13 @smoothdogsgirl @adoringsebstan @cherrycola27 @alexxavicry @mrsjaderogers @mak-32 @thefandomimagines @tallrock35 @caatheeriinee07 @bradshawseresinbabe @atarmychick007 @3sriracha @genius2050 @halstead-severide-fan @withakindheartx

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Seven (Part 2)

I don’t realise that I’m tipsy until the cold breeze hits me, as as I drag my phone out of the waistband of my skirt again, the glow of the screen jerks around in front of my eyes. I open up my messenger app and tap out a message with great effort.

I got the goods.

I attach Michelle’s phone number. He types back a minute later. 

Thamk yuo 

Yuo’re wlecmoe. Nice attempt at spelling some really challenging words there, Jude. Good job.

Haha funny gril

*funny gilr

Fuck **girl

Oh my God, you’re pissed. 

Yes !

I watch the typing dots appear and disappear for a minute or two before he appears to give up trying, and my phone comes to life in my palm with a phone call. I bring it to my ear. “Hello?” In the background is the sound of thumping techno music, rustling noises and then the swish of something heavy before his voice emerges from the chaos. “Yes.” He announces. “I’m drunk. Sorry about that, my thumbs won’t text what I want them to text.” He’s got this loose, childish, silly tone to his voice that makes me smile, as it’s a rare privilege to hear him like this. 

“You out?”

“I am.”

“Where are you?”

“Uh… Katen… Kater Blau?”

“Are you asking me?”

He laughs. “No, I can’t remember how to say it. I’m somewhere. I’m outside some club.” The music is muffled now, but the sounds of a busy city have replaced it, swirling around him, weaving its distinct melody with the sound of his voice. 

“Is it a Halloween party?”

“I wish. Nobody celebrates Halloween in Germany. I’m just out. Tuesday night partying, baby. Oh! You’re at Shane’s house.”

“That’s right.” I settle onto the steps, first flicking a tiny snail off the stone. “Here I am. I’ve been drinking tequila.”

“Bleagh.” He exclaims. “Tequila makes me puke.”

“Does it?”

“Yeah. Even the smell.” He makes another gagging sound and I cover my mouth with my hand. “Stop making that noise or I’ll start puking, you sicko.”

He lets out a loose, easy laugh. “So what’s your costume?”

“I’m a cat.”

“Ah.”

“Very original, I know.”

“A cat.”

“Meow.” I say flatly.

“So… what are you wearing?”

I cough out an outraged laugh. “That’s a bit of an inappropriate question. You’re hardly flirting with me.” As soon as I’ve said it I wish I hadn’t. In my head it was funny, but as soon as it hits the air I curse myself for ever thinking it ever would be. These are the only kinds of jokes that are never funny with him.

An awkward laugh. “Well I dunno. I was wondering what you were wearing, like, costume-wise, that’s all” My face heats up. “Um, like just these stupid cat ears I made and a cheap leather skirt and a corset I stole from a girl I used to know.”

“Cool, cool, cool.”

“Cool.” I wince with the phone against my ear, hearing only a rustle of fabric and a gentle sniff as he continues to say nothing at all. 

“This is nice, Evie. It’s cool to call you again.” He says eventually, voice a bit hoarse. Goosebumps travel up and down my arms and legs, but it’s surely thanks to the wind.

“I know.” 

“Like, you haven’t been far from my mind this last year.” 

I take a slow, shaky breath, suddenly feeling like I’m on another planet, alone on Shane’s front doorstep while the party thumps on on the other side of the wall. “Right.” I say, but only a raspy whisper escapes me. 

“I’m only saying this because I’m drunk.” He clarifies. “I obviously wouldn’t dare say it otherwise.”

“Oh.”

“You know how I was in Japan last spring? On the day that we went to see mount Fuji it was so foggy, too foggy to see a thing, and we were so bummed out, but the next morning before we got the train to Kyoto I got up early, like, when the sun was rising, and from the window of my hotel room I could see it, and it was right there, clear and blue, and the sky was red behind it and all I could think of how much I wished that you could see it too. Like, that I wasn’t alone just looking at it. I knew that you’d understand how perfect it was.”

I pause. The sharp autumnal breeze licks over my skin and fallen leaves rustle across the garden. “Jude.” I say softly. “You know that-”

There’s a sudden, loud crackling noise over the line and then a new voice is speaking to me. “Hallo?”

I blink. “Um, hello?”

“Bist du das, Astrid?” 

“No – um, nicht? Ich bin Evie.” I cringe. 

“Evie! Evie Kilbride.” This new voice is the cheerful, infectiously jolly sort of voice that renders the smile that crawls up my face irresistible. “Yes, and who is this?” 

“I’m Jonas.” He announces. “I have heard a lot about you.” and I can hear Jude groan in the background. 

“Exclusively good things, I hope.” 

“Yes of course, only very good things. Are you partying tonight?”

“Yes! It’s Halloween, Jonas.”

“Ah I see! Do you have a costume?”

“I’m a cat.”

“A sexy cat?”

I laugh, listening to Jude’s distant protests. “Jonas, please, give me my phone.” he pleads.

“You’re too drunk.” Jonas insists. “You’re at risk or saying something stupid. I’ll speak to her. Is it okay if I speak with you, Evie Kilbride?”

“Absolutely, but fair warning, I might be too drunk too.”

“You sound wonderful, my dear. I hope my friend didn’t disturb you.”

“Of course not. We were just chatting nonsense. Are you having a fun night?”

“Oh yes, we are. When are you coming to Berlin? When do I get to finally meet you?”

“Hmm… Maybe soon-ish.”

“I’ve been looking forward to it. You’re famous in our house.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, I’ve looked at so many photographs on-” There’s the sound of a struggle, rustles and swipes and then Jude is back again. “I’m sorry, Evie.” He breathes. “We should probably hang up now before he says anything insane.”

“Okay.” I say, and in the background Jonas yells “Send us a picture of your costume, Evie Kilbride!”

“Don’t send me a picture.” He says. “Or do, if you want to… I, uh, never mind. I can imagine without a photograph… or – Christ, sorry. Nothing I’m saying sounds right at the moment. I’m going to go.”

“Alright, see you.” I say. “Enjoy the Katzer Blau.”

“Yep.” He says, and then the line goes dead just as Jonas starts to loudly sing my name.

The next morning, as I rise with an aching head and a mouth that feels like it’s been rinsed with sand, I reach for my phone on my bedside table. He has texted me, one coherent, sober message underneath the barrage of his drunken misspellings. 

I’m sorry if I said anything weird to you last night. I remember we talked but I don’t remember what about. I was very drunk. Forgive me. Hope we’re good. 

x J

Beginning // Prev // Next

[broccoliboix5peepeeman]

With the Midoriya-sensei AU, I was wondering will Shoto talk to Fuyumi after tddk first meet?

Heck yeah!

Part 5.2 of "Breaking the ice"

Part 5.1 | Ao3 Link | Part 6

'So…' Fuyumi's voice rang out from across the kitchen, where she was boxing up the leftovers. 'What do you think of Midoriya-kun? Spoiler alert: if you think he's anything less than amazing I will disown you.'

'You wound me.' Shoto deadpanned as he continued with the washing up; he was particularly fixated on a stain that refused to come off one of the bowls. Switching the sponge to its abrasive side, he scrubbed and added nonchalantly, 'I gave him my number.'

Silence echoed through the kitchen, almost deafening, then Fuyumi squealed with what Shoto could only assume was delight, and the sound of footsteps on the tiled floor preceded the sudden warmth he felt when his sister wrapped him in a hug from behind.

'Did you actually?’ When Shoto didn’t bother answering the obvious, she pounded on his back. ‘I’m so proud of you! Wait…’

When Fuyumi stepped back, Shoto raised an intrigued eyebrow and turned his head to find her regarding him suspiciously; hands on her hips and eyes narrowed. ‘Is that why you’ve been practically glued to your phone all night?’

Shoto squinted back.

‘Perhaps.’

His sister pursed her lips—unnecessarily dragging out the tension—then she flashed him a wide smile.

‘Yes! I just knew you’d hit it off! So, tell me more! What do you think of him?’

Shoto swallowed heavily and turned back to the soapy water, adding the now clean bowl to the draining rack before making a start on one of the plates. What did he think of Midoriya? Well, to start with, he was inordinately kind despite his situation—of which Shoto only knew extremely surface-level details, but he could make reasonable inferences—and he was attentive to other people; he was great at his job; he had a smile that made Shoto feel at ease, and Fuyumi had been right he was…

Handsome… Very handsome.

'He was very nice.' He shrugged, not entirely keen on sharing the full extent of his thoughts. 'You were right about him. At least, from what I've seen so far.'

'Like what you see, huh?'

He could practically hear Fuyumi's smile, and felt his cheeks burn. He understood the double meaning well enough, and he wasn't about to give her the satisfaction of an answer.

It didn't take long for her to relent. 'Come on, I'm joking… sort of.'

'Very funny.' Shoto frowned as he continued washing up, contemplating his options. He could very easily leave the subject there—over the years, Fuyumi had learnt not to pry too much with him, which he was thankful for—but in all honesty, he didn’t exactly want to stop talking about Midoriya. 

It wasn't until he heard his sister return to her previous task that he decided to keep the conversation going, and gathered the courage to call out, 'Don't make a big deal out of this… but I invited him to meet up with me after my shift on Sunday.'

He closed one eye when metal clattered onto the countertop in response.

'Really?' He didn't need to look to know Fuyumi was staring holes into his back. 'Like a da-'

'Not a date.' Shoto whipped his head around and immediately regretted it when he locked eyes with his sister, smiling knowingly. 'I want to get to know him… myself, not just through your work stories.'

That smirk quickly retreated.

'So just as a friend? You don't like him like… that?'

She peered at him curiously and bit her lip with worry. Shoto refrained from asking her why she looked so disappointed.

'He's… attractive.' He clarified, sighing as he grabbed the hand towel and turned around properly to face her; stray puddles of water dampened the back of his shirt as he leant against the counter. 'But you know I don't date people just because of that.'

'You don't date full stop!' Fuyumi exclaimed, with a little excessive flamboyance, if Shoto were honest. 'Actually, I think this is the first time in twenty four years that you've admitted to actually finding someone attractive… not counting your secret celebrity crush on Hawks back in high school that we've all collectively decided not to comment on.'

'So why are you commenting on it?' Shoto huffed under his breath, trying not to let his embarrassment consume him.

‘Okay, okay. It won’t happen again.’ Fuyumi waved him off, tone lacking any sort of sincerity that she’d maintain that promise. ‘But you’ve got to admit though, this is a big deal. It’s one thing to admire someone you’ve only heard stories about, but another to meet them in person and feel a connection, and whether that connection ends up being platonic or something more, it doesn’t matter. You go well together, you'll see.'

She paused for a moment, tone becoming gentle. 'I’m happy for you, Shoto. I’ve got a good feeling about this.’

Suddenly bashful, Shoto turned back to the sink, albeit he couldn’t keep the smile from his face as he brought his shoulders to his ears.

‘Me too.’

[spontaniuss]

I've never felt so alone while being surrounded by many people.

Its Friday March xx, 202x. This is what I am sure of.

I swore I just woke up today, did my usual routine and got to school but something felt of. Im not sure if I just ate something bad last night but my mouth feels chalky and dusty as I am brushing my teeth. I pay no mind to it at first as I am going to rinse it off, but that feeling wont leave me. I walk back to my room and get ready for my day. Keys, wallet, phon- Wait. I look to where it is supposed to be at, next to my bed on its charger, but surprisingly its not there, just a pile of duest that mist have settled throught the night. I sigh as I realize this is another dask I must do when I return from work. But now, I panic. I dont know how late I am to work and realized I didnt wake up with any alarm. I run through my house and find it sitting on my dinning room table. Huh, I must have forgetten after I ate dinner last night.

I click the side button to find out how late I am today. No luck, its dead. Great. I wipe the phone screen onto my pants, noticing that it also has baby dust bunnies settled onto it.

I dont even bother to have breakfast, never really was my routine anyways and just run out the door. I run to where my car is supposed to be at, but i just find an empty parking space. No broken glass, no broken rools. Not how I expected my day to begin. I start walking to my nearest bus station, knowing if I just get to work, I can charge up my phone and call the cops. My mind starts racing and panicking at the scolding from my manager. Luckly, he is a big goof with a big heart. He will understand, right?

I walk into the store and imidiately get greeted "Hi, welcome to xxxx" I laugh it off, its a running gag at this point.

"Hey guys, sorry Im late, someone stole my car-"

"Oh, did you have an appointment?" Soira asks while looking at me quizically.

"Haha, an appointment to work" I respond as I walk towards the back rooms to clock in. I imidiately get stopped by Alfred. Alfred glared down onto me, using the height difference to highlight his anger.

"Hey boss, let me clock in, let me-"

"Am sorry, who are you? Only employees back here"

"WOW ALFRED! Im late a few moments and you no longer remember me, such a friend you are!" I joke at my boss while I poke his side to make him move out the way.

"Ma'am, I think you may have been mistaken, Alfred and I are the only two that work here" Soira states. Her blue-gray eyes pierce through me in pure confusion. I chuckle a bit before looking at her.

"Soira, you too? I know im just a transfer, but I have been here for at least a month, you two MUST be pulling some sorth of skit huh"

Soira and Alfred look at each other in what I assume to be genuine confusion. A cold sweat runs down my back and im suddenly being escorted around the counter.

As confused as I was, i began to ramble, "Guys, what ever prank yall are pulling, this aint funny anymore. I was already having a shitty morning, I dont need this too. Come on, I transfered from the Northside location. Soira you solde 5 products yesterday to a family of 3, Alfred, you were just bitching how our regional manager doesnt give us freedom. I can show you yesterday's numbers too. I have them on my pho-"

"Okay, I dont know what elaborate prank YOU are pulling but this isnt funny. For you to know sensitive information is creepy, and judging by how you were going to the back to 'clock in' is already terrifying. Please, call your previous location to clarify this."

When those words left Alfred's mouth, I can only feel what I can only describe at dread. That uneasy feeling returned and punched me in the gut. I look down onto my shirt to make sure Im in uniform. Its not like I would continue going head to head with them.

"Okay, can I borrow a Samsung charger. I need to make a few calls."

Soira reaches under the counter and hands me a new looking charger. I take it and akwardly walk towards a corner table, plus it in and wait a few minutes before the screen of my phone flashes white and turns on.

57 missed calls, 103 messages. Great.

I click on ignore and rush to my phone keypad. I dial my mother's phone number and it doesnt take long for her to answer.

"Hello?"

"Hey ma, do you think you can help me, I-"

"WHERE ARE YOU?? IM GOING TO PICK YOU UP, ILL BE RIGHT THERE, PLEASE STAY ONTHE PHONE WITH ME, DONT LEAV-"

"Ma, im okay, my car got stolen, im currently at my job in the southside location, my phone was dead so i probably couldnt answer because of that"

I heard wailling from the other end of the phone and I couldnt help to just roll my eyes. Mom has always been overly emotional but this. This is a bit much. She really insisted on staying on the line as she rushed over to pick me up. I could hear my younger brother screaming in the background as I can assume as pure terror. He never liked hearing mom cry or being in a super fast vehicle. I can only imagine the terror of those two combine.

Eventually, my mother pulls up in her blue mini van, only that it looks more rusted and banged up than what I remember. She gets out of the car and runs over to hug me and usher me into the car. The ride home was just filled with silence and quiet sobbing. I know better than to ask what is wrong. Tears and driving do not mix, and whatever has her in this state must be terrible. No need to make it worst.

As we pull up into my mom's driveway, I notice my car parked deep into the garage. My older brother is just standing outside with his hands on his hips, looking at me amused. I cant help but laugh and point it out to mom. She looks at me at as if I had grown 3 heads.

"DO YOU THINK THIS IS A JOKE? YOU HAVE BEEN GONE FOR 7 MONTHS, AND ALL YOU CAN DO IS LAUGH AT US???"

I blink at my mother's harsh words. I look at her face and notice that she is serious. I couldn't help but check my phone. Still Friday March xx, 202x. Yup

"Ma, what you mean 7 months? I was here yesterday when Drima told us he is graduating soon. I was here when father told us about a new project at work", I open the door and step out the car, getting that same feeling of dread pulsing through my chest. Soon that was pushed aside when Drima bombarded me with a hug. I held on to the door, hoping i dont get knocked over. I slowly turn around and look at him starting to tear up. Never in my life have I seen my older brother tear up, except when his guinea pig died of old age. Its like he had accepted the fact that I trully was gone.

Taking a deep breath, I finally manage to mutter, "I think we need to go inside and talk, this is too much"

---

"Are you sure you werent kidnapped?"

"No, I litteraly remember yesterday and everything what happened"

If the feeling of dread was overwhelming before, its suffocating now. I kept on being asked the same questions over and over, trying to find any flaw in my story, any detailed I missed out, any information to call bullshit on. My family's faces turned ghost white as I summerized their lives for the past 7 months, without missing a beat.

Their shock was shared with my best friend and boyfriend, who promptly arrived when they heard of my reapearrance. I was walked through the house as if I had lost my memory. Nothing was different than how it was yesterday. My mother had to step away to wail some more, and my father finally came around to see with own two eyes the 'truth'. I kept trying to ask questions, but no one seemed to be answering. I started believing in these crazy stores that 'maybe I was a ghost' or 'maybe I jumped dimentions'. These theories kept swimming in my head, but I can not recollect anything being different. In the midst of this, squad cars appeared at the front of the house and two officers walked in. Like any soap opera traditional police questioning, they of course had to question my sanity.

"Im telling you officer, I have all these details fresh in my mind. I woke up, in my bed, went to work, they wouldnt believe me either"

"Are you sure you werent just hallucinating, you know, letting the ol' brain getting the best of ya? Did you maybe run away with a boyfriend?"

"Absolutely no way, I was just with Jun the day before yesterday. I promise you, this is isnt hallucination of shit"

I began to question so much. For example, if I trully was gone, how was my apartment paid and my phone bill paid. How do I have explicit memories of things said. Why are some things different but not others? The officers eventually let me be alone to my thoughts for a moment, as they informed my mother that I might need to see a psychiatrist or an exorcist. That I had really lost it or playing a really sick joke. I felt like a child, where no one will hear because 'they dont know any better'. Retreating back to my room was the only thing that made me calm down. Entering it really felt cold, like no one had been there for a while. Light dust coated my desk and dresser while my bed was neatly folded and tucked, like my mother likes it to be.

"Lex, we have to talk"

I turn around and Jun was just leaning on the doorway with his arms crossed.

"Jun, please, if you're going to sit there and just call me crazy, please dont, I-"

"No one says youre crazy"

"Really? Cause Im currently about to loose my shit and you are here wanting to 'talk'. Your pose and demeanor doesnt really scream supportive boyfriend"

"Aw, come on Lex, no need to be like that. I just wanted to hear the answer without any bias or prejudice"

Jun walked towards me and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into an akward hug. The person who was my santuary is now a source of uncertainty, polluded by the clouds of uncomfortable air. The arms who used to contourt to my body now felt like twigs just wrapped around me. You would think something like this wouldnt just change over night. I slightly pushed him away and continued inspecting my room in silence.

"Lex, I just want to know, did you run away with someone?"

Those words echoed in my room, as if the furniture was non existant. For some reason, that question stung more coming from his mouth than the police officers'. I knew turning around to face him was a terrible idea. I knew that my next steps would lead to me slapping or shouting at him. Tears overfilled my eyes quickly, not out of sadness, but out of frustration. Shakly, I managed to compose myself and give him an answer after what felt like like hours.

"No, for fucks sake, Jun, I did not run away, if I went to dinner with your parents on Wednesday!"

"...are you on drugs?"

Ignoring Jun from that point seemed like the better option. Gaslighting me is certainly not something I am fond of. My head started swirling, and I opted to sit down on my desk. I advised Jun that I wasnt feeling good and to please exit my room. The air behind me shifter to hesitation, neverthe less I could hear him shuffle his way out and close the door behind him. I looked out the window momenterely and sure enough, everything looked the same like yesterday, but it wasn't. If i am to continue with the idea that I really was missing for the last 7 months- I can already tell I am in deep shit.

I search in the drawers next to me for any journal or scratch paper and a pencil. If I am to continue with crazy town, I should write everything I remember from the last 7 months. Opening my the 3rd drawer to my left, it made me remember that it had a false bottom. I took that false bottom to reveal a teal notebook. I could not seem to place it in my brain of when I bought it or where, but that it got there sometime last week. I opened it up to a new page and wrote everything. Absolutely everything.

Jun's Birthday, bought a build a bear and wrote letter as gift

Drima's birthday was the day after, took him to his favorite restaurant, he ordered mash potatoes and made him laugh so hard that they came out through his nose.

Mom got a new makeover 2 months ago and turned his skin orange for a week.

Got a new promotion and transfered to a new location.

Change my car's oil 4 months ago at xxx

Sent Jess a curious meme about life partners and friend soulmates yesterday.

Went to the mall 5 months ago when I decided to buy a new couture dress. Jun was happy that I finally spent some money on my self-

Reality suddenly hit me like a truck when it came to finances. If I hadn't worked for 7 months, how was I affording my lifestyle. I pulled up my bank account. Surprisenly, it was as if I had not even touched my account. Even the loading screen said last log on : December 23, 20xx. My brain broke in half reading that. I know I logged on a week ago, and if I really was missing for 7 months, my log in screen would have said September. Checking my account, money had certainly been rolling into my account as well. Check from my employment had been rolling in with the notes stating it was for "family help". I add this to the list of things I have been keeping on my newly found notebook, grab my keeps and make haste to my car.

"Where are you going?"

I turn around and my mother was standing there glaring at me and my keys.

"Ma, I need to go to work. I need answers"

Jess was standing behind my mother with a hand on her shoulder.

"If it makes you feel any better, Ill take Lex to her workplace, Mrs.M"

Jess walked up to me and took the keys from my hands, "but I'll drive".

----

The car ride there was quiet. When you are friends with someone for so long, you find that words arent needed to convey a thought. It wasnt until now that I realized how tense my body was. I got confirtable in my seat, when suddenly Jess spoke up.

"I heard you got into an argument with Jun"

"Since when he goes and reports to you?"

"Lex, you have to understand. Someone getting up one day after missing for 7 months like nothing happened, its a tough pill to swallow. We mean well, and I really want to believe you"

"..But?"

"No buts, I just want to believe. You have an incredible memory recollection. Plus, ive been knowing you for the longest. You love Jun, you wouldnt just run away like that."

I sit in silence and look at the passing view until we come across a red light. I notice how the light post is filled with 'Lost' pages with my picture on it. Jess must have felt my nervousness because she reached behind me and pulled a newspaper that must have been sitting at the back of my car and handed it to me. Looking at it closer, the date October 22, 20xx flashed to my eyes before noticing the headline.

'Missing 24 year old in freak accident'.

[sunkissedpages]

instead of you [part sixteen]

pairing: [best friend’s brother] tom holland x college!reader

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut

word count: 3.1k

series masterlist

smut warnings: female masturbation, porn, mentions of choking

“‘We’? Like, you and me?” you clarified, hoping you had misunderstood.

“Yeah, it’ll only take a second,” Tom assured you.

You looked to Sam for help, but he looked just as lost as you were. “I’ll go try and find a microwave to heat up your leftovers,” he offered and took the container back from you. “I’ll be right back, babe.”

“Okay...”

You watched him shrug past both you and Tom and then disappear into the hallway with a sinking feeling in your chest, knowing he trusted you completely. He had no reason not to, and that’s what consumed you. 

“What do you want?” you muttered, reluctantly stepping to the side to let Tom in. 

He didn’t answer right away, giving you a moment to collect yourself. His eyes followed you around the room as you found your pants and tugged them on. He averted his gaze when he realized you were getting dressed mumbling a “sorry” as he trained his eyes on the carpet. 

You sat on the edge of the bed and looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to explain why he was there. 

“You weren’t there today,” was all he said. 

You blinked. “Yeah?”

“Was it because of me?”

“I wasn’t feeling well.”

Tom’s tongue poked at the inside of his cheek. “Is that all?”

“I had a lot to drink last night,” you reminded him. 

“So you don’t remember anything?”

“I never said that.”

“So it was because of me?”

“I never said that either.” You sighed. “If you’re here to ask me if I told him you kissed me, I didn’t. And you could’ve just texted me to ask.”

“No that’s not why- I don’t have your number anyway.”

“I’m in the trip group chat with your family.”

“Oh, right. I’ll save it to my contacts.”

The tension in the room was palpable. It felt like all of the air had been sucked out and replaced with thick, suffocating silence. Arbitrarily, you wondered who the most famous person in his phone was. He was a Marvel actor, he probably had Simu Liu’s number, right? Who would your contact information be sitting in between? Maybe if you ever forgave him for what he did you could ask him. 

“Is something funny?” The firmness of Tom’s voice cut through your train of thought and brought you back to the present. “Why are you smiling?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you said despondently. “Sam’s gonna be back soon. What did you want?”

“I just wanted to check up on you. Sam said you were sick.”

“Oh, so you wanted to see if I was lying?”

“No! God, why is it so hard to believe that I’m genuinely concerned about you?”

“Because last night you only seemed concerned about yourself.”

Tom pursed his lips and shoved his hands in his pockets, expelling a breath harshly. “Okay, I deserved that.”

You hummed in agreement, and let your eyes trail down the veins of his arms to where they disappeared into his pockets. It looked like he was fiddling with a coin or something small, but you couldn’t tell. 

“Are you feeling better?” he said the last part through gritted teeth.

“Yes, thank you. This chat has helped considerably.”

Tom rolled his eyes. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Well, lucky for you I’m not your problem to deal with. I'm Sam’s.”

He flexed his hand in his pocket and sighed. “Okay, well, I also wanted to apologize again for...” the word kiss seemed to die on his lips, poetic irony at its finest. “Being a dick.” Less poetic. 

He finally fished his hand out of his pocket, holding a delicate piece of paper between his pointer and index fingers. He shifted uncomfortably where he was leaning against the dresser. “We went to the Academic Gallery today. I saw this in the gift shop and thought of you.” He presented you with what turned out to be a postcard, creased down the middle unevenly and smudged with pen ink.

You turned it over to look at the front first, admiring the artwork printed on it. It was a picture of Michelangelo’s David drawn in swoopy black lines and filled in with watercolor paint. Instead of a museum, the statue was in the middle of a garden, the centerpiece among dozens upon dozens of flowers. 

 “Sorry it’s folded,” he mumbled. “It wouldn’t fit in my pocket.”

You flipped it over to read the back only to see iou scribbled in his handwriting and nothing else. You turned it over again to see if you had missed something on the front, but there was nothing.

You looked up at him in confusion. “Iou?” 

“Yeah, you know... I feel really bad about last night, and I don’t really know how to make it up to you so I’m letting you decide.”

“That’s not really how it works.”

“I think that this counts as an exception, since we’re kind of in uncharted territory.”

“Maybe for you. My boyfriend’s brothers make out with me all the time.”

“Fuck you, I didn’t make out with you- it was barely a peck.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “It was more than a peck.”

His cheeks were beginning to grow pink with what you couldn’t tell was either embarrassment or frustration. He cleared his throat awkwardly and changed the subject. “Anyway, if you ever need a favor or anything, just let me know. Think of it as me owing you one.”

“And do I have to give back the postcard when I cash in this ‘favor’?” you asked.

“No, you can keep it.”

“Good, because I was going to keep it anyway.”

He chuckled in spite of himself and shook his head. “Knew you’d like it.”

You flattened the card on your lap, smiling as you tried to iron out the little crease with your fingers. 

“It’s pretty, thank you.”

Tom nodded in acknowledgement and straightened his posture. “I should get going. I just wanted to give you that, and see how you were doing since tomorrow’s a travel day and I know you get a little motion sick sometimes. I didn’t want... whatever you’d come down with to make it worse.”

How did he know that? Had Sam told him? You didn’t have time to ask because he was already walking towards the door. He paused when he reached it and turned his head towards you, hand already on the knob. 

“Good night, y/n.”

“Good night, Tom.”

  He opened the door and let himself out into the hallway, catching it suddenly on his foot as he saw Sam coming off the elevator. Tom held the door for Sam, since his hands were full, and then said goodnight to his brother as he finally left.

“Sorry, I couldn’t find the microwave,” he explained. “I had to ask the night manager and they heated it up in the break room for me.”

“Oh, Sam, you didn’t have to do that! I would’ve eaten it cold.”

“I know you would have, and that’s why I’m not letting you.” You gave him a look, which he ignored and handed you the container of food. “It’s carbonara, it’s one of the things Rome is known for. I couldn’t have you eating it lukewarm.” 

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He ran a hand through his hair and took a seat next to you on the edge of the bed, pulling the ottoman closer to use it as a makeshift table. He watched as you tried the first bite, gauging your reaction. It was something he did whenever he cooked for you, especially if he was trying out a new recipe. He always needed your approval, and valued it above anybody else’s. But he hadn’t even made this, and as his eyes searched your face you found yourself wondering if they were looking for something else. 

“Do you like it?” 

You breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Your paranoia was starting to get the better of you. “It’s delicious,” you assured him. “I’m sad I missed dinner.”

“I’m sad you missed the whole day. Spending time with my family without you was hell.”

“Oh come on, it’s probably good that you got some real family time.”

“It’s real family time when you’re there. It felt like something was missing.” 

You let a small smile slip past your lips despite the guilt that bubbled under the surface. You pushed it down and took another bite of the carbonara. 

“You’re not just saying that to make me feel better, are you? It can’t have all been bad. Tell me about the good stuff. I wanna hear that.”

Sam nodded and pushed his curls back again, grinning like he’d been caught. “Fine, maybe there were some okay moments.”

“And what were they?”

“We went to the Accademia Gallery today. I think you would have really liked it. They had a whole wing of instruments from some of the most famous inventors and musicians from history. They even had pianos from Bartolomeo Cristorfori, the inventor of the piano.”

“Wow,” you said, impressed. “I bet it was beautiful.”

“Of course if it was played, it wouldn’t sound anything like the piano we’re used to hearing today, but I’m sure it would still sound incredible.”

“Even if it hasn’t been tuned in a few hundred years?”

It was his turn to give you a look. “Yes, of course.”

“Sorry.”

“And they had a Strativerius, I don’t even want to know how valuable that thing is. It must cost millions. I took some pictures for you, but I know they won’t compare to the real thing. The lighting in museums never does the art justice.”

He handed his phone to you to scroll through. You swiped the photos, smiling whenever you came across a selfie he’d taken with a statue or painting. You reached the pictures of David and couldn’t help but zoom in on-

“Hey!” Sam yelped and grabbed his phone back from your hands.

“What!”

“Michelangelo would be so ashamed of you! I bet he’s rolling in his grave right now.”

“No way! If anyone appreciated good dick, it was Michelangelo.” 

“Unbelievable.” 

“If you don’t want me to judge these statue’s penises, don’t take pictures of them.”

“I didn’t take pictures of their penises! I took pictures of the whole statue- you’re zooming in on- you know what, nevermind. Arguing with you about this is pointless.”

“Smart boy.”

Sam rolled his eyes at you and put his phone in his back pocket. “Oh yeah, did Tom give you that postcard?”

“He told you about that?” you asked, suddenly panicking. Sam hadn’t said anything about last night so far, but maybe Tom had-

“Yeah, said he wanted to give you an iou for the limoncello last night.”

“What?”

“He said you paid the tab for it since he left his wallet in the room and that he wanted to pay you back for it.”

“Oh. Right.”

Another lie. You had very much not paid for the drinks last night. Tom had. And you knew he had to make an excuse for why he was buying his brother’s girlfriend something from the gift shop, but to add another lie to the ever-growing list made your throat burn with regret. You wouldn’t be able to keep the secret forever, and it was only a matter of time before everything came crashing down around you. 

-

In the morning you took the train from Rome to Naples, and then took a taxi to Sorrento to spend the last bit of your week in Italy by the sea. The atmosphere was much more relaxed than it had been in the busy cities of Rome and Florence. Even though there were still hordes of tourists, they were far more dispersed and less overbearing than you expected. The whole town seemed slowed down, like it had escaped the chokehold of time. 

Sam’s parents took everyone out to lunch by the water and went over the schedule for the next day and a half. 

“So, you’re on your own after dinner tonight, and then tomorrow morning we’re going to take the ferry to Capri for the day before our flight that night,” Nikki explained as she read through the spreadsheet on her phone. 

“There’s an Irish pub down the street from our hotel,” Harry said. “Do you guys want to go after we eat tonight?”

“I’m down,” Sam agreed. 

“Sounds good,” Tom chimed in.

The boys all looked at you for your answer, but you hesitated. Thinking about what happened the last time you drank didn’t make you eager to do it again, and you were already exhausted from travelling.

“I’ll pass.”

“What? Why?” Sam asked, sticking out his bottom lip in a pout.

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder with a sigh. “I’m tired, and I’d rather go somewhere Italian... since we’re in Italy.”

Harry shrugged. “Your loss.”

“We’ll have a shot in your honor, babe,” Sam said and pressed a kiss to your temple. 

“Please don’t. Something tells me you’ll have plenty to drink without an extra shot for me.”

“You know us so well.”

After dinner, you walked back to the hotel with the Hollands and said good night to Sam’s parents before parting ways to your separate rooms. Sam went with you to change into clothes for going out while you changed into pajamas. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to go?”

You nodded from where you were on the bed and yawned. Sam didn’t push any further, instead resolving to finish getting ready in silence. He paired his black jeans with a pair of converse and a dark green button up over a black t-shirt. 

He turned to you for approval.

“Fake girlfriend approved?”

“Fake girlfriend approved,” you repeated and gave him a thumbs up. 

“Okay, well I’m headed out,” he announced. 

“Have fun! Don’t kiss any cute girls without me!” 

It was something you always said to each other, but it sounded strange since it was supposed to be coming from his girlfriend. Sam just chuckled and blew you a kiss as he let himself out. 

You heard him greet his brothers outside and then listened to their footsteps fade into the distance before pulling up an incognito window on your phone. It had been weeks since you’d been able to get off and it was killing you. The amount of stress this trip had given you only made it worse. You were wound so tight that you were sure you’d snap soon if you didn’t get some relief. 

And you thought that maybe if you rubbed one out it might help you forget about... the confusing feelings you had for your best friend’s brother. 

Seeing as you had the night to yourself, you figured you might as well take advantage of it. You copied a link from your notes app and pasted the url into the address bar. You didn’t feel like digging through your luggage to find your earbuds so you set the volume low enough for only you to hear. 

The video started playing and you let your hand wander from your side up to your neck, brushing your hand lightly across your collarbone. You traced the curve of your breasts with a finger before squeezing one of them gently, feeling your nipple harden under your palm. You only had one hand to use since the other was holding your phone, but you made do. 

The video was one of your favorites, one you found yourself watching at least once a week. It was one of the few videos of hetero couples you had favorited, and it started with the guy going down on the girl before fucking her...

You admired the muscles on the man’s back, watching intently as they flexed whenever he moved his head. The woman moaned, struggling to keep her legs open while he brought her closer and closer to orgasm. 

You let your hand travel down further until it was sitting at the waistband of your pajama shorts. You knew you had a while before Sam would be back, but you were too impatient to wait. You propped your phone up on a pillow next to you to free your other hand as you started to play with your clit. 

You pictured someone’s head in between your thighs, imagining them moaning against your pussy as they tasted you for the first time. 

The man was taking his pants off now and lining himself up with his partner’s pussy. You tried to follow along, putting yourself in the moment with the couple. You gathered your own wetness on two of your fingers to lubricate them and slid them inside yourself, sighing in relief. Your entire body tensed as it accommodated to the stretch and you gave yourself a few beats before moving your fingers. 

When you finally did, you felt yourself relax and sped up your pace so that it matched the actors on screen.

The angle the video was shot at hid the man’s face and you found yourself wondering what he looked like. If you squinted you could almost picture Tom- no. You tried to shake the thought from your mind, but it was already there. 

Closing your eyes didn’t help either. You just imagined Tom’s fingers sliding in and out of you instead of your own, imagined the veins on his arms becoming more pronounced as he tightened his grip on your thigh. 

“Fuck,” you cursed, knowing you should stop. 

You were too close to stop now, and the pleasure was clouding your judgement. Suddenly the man brought his hand up to the girl’s throat and began to choke her, sending her hurtling into her own orgasm. You moaned accidentally, thinking about Tom’s hand around your throat. You curled your fingers up so that you were hitting your g-spot and whimpered pathetically.

This was wrong. This was bad. Not only were you fantasizing about your best friend’s brother, but you were confusing yourself even further. 

You tried to fight it, at least that’s what you told yourself, but all you could hear were Tom’s moans echoing through the speaker. You pictured the way he’d look on top of you. His eyes would be so dark and he’d be smirking like the cocky asshole he was, chain hanging down in your face- just inviting you to take it into your mouth. It didn’t take long before you felt your orgasm begin to build. The video was still playing in the background, the man still chasing his own high and bringing his partner to her second orgasm, but you’d tuned it out by now. You came around your fingers thinking about Tom’s hips snapping into yours. 

You were fucked.

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[alpacaparkaseok]

Lost in Japan

Requested by anon - a picture of your request will be at the bottom of the post. Thanks for sending it in! 

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x reader

Premise: Taehyung gets lost while shooting Bon Voyage in Japan with the members. Thankfully, he runs into you.

You were fairly certain that your eyes were deceiving you. Standing awkwardly outside of a convenient store, staring down at a map that one of the employees was holding up, stood Kim Taehyung. 

His Japanese was only getting him so far. From what you could hear, it sounded like the real problem was the fact that he wasn’t quite sure where he was supposed to be in the first place. 

You weren’t the only one that was starting to notice who was loitering about downtown Aomori. 

Taehyung kept glancing up, assessing the growing crowds that were beginning to form, all of them waiting anxiously for the light to change to cross the street. The employee seemed to notice his worry, beginning to lose his patience. 

“Take the map,” the employee sputters out. “Just buy it really quickly. It looks like you need to get going soon.”

Taehyung blanches. “Er...I don’t have my wallet on me...” he pats his jeans as though his wallet might magically appear. “Could I come back later...?”

The employee looks a bit uncomfortable, mirroring Taehyung’s expression. “I don’t know...if you’re lost already, who’s to say you’d be able to find your way back?”

You hardly realize how close you’ve gotten, but as you watch Taehyung’s eyes drop to his shoes and red color his cheeks, you take the last few strides up to him. Both men look up at you, apprehension in their eyes.

“How much is the map?” You ask without thinking, already fishing your wallet out of your bag. 

Taehyung stares at you with unabashed embarrassment. “Oh, really don’t worry about it. We’ll figure something out.”

You shrug, already handing over some cash to the shocked employee. “It’s fine. You’re not from around here, are you?”

Blinking at you like you might have suddenly grown another head, Taehyung slowly shakes his head. “...no. I’m not. Do you know...who I am?”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you barely manage to contain your grin. “Do you mean have we met?” You shake your head, taking the map the employee extends out to you and folding it meticulously. “No, I don’t think we have. Are you lost?”

Again, Taehyung looks a bit dazed but nods his head nonetheless. “I am, actually.”

Now you allow yourself to smile at him fully, fidgeting a little at how intensely he’s looking at you. “Well, I can call you a cab if you want. Just explain to me where you’re trying to get to.”

“Can I trust you?”

You blink, heart aching a little at the question. “I would say yes, but I’m a little biased. But either way, it looks like you’ve got about...ten seconds to make a decision.”

The traffic lights change, and suddenly a horde of people are making their way across the street and heading straight toward the convenience store. The employee has already retreated indoors, appearing to be boarding up for a storm. Taehyung looks back and forth between you and the other group almost comically before stepping toward you.

“Alright, let’s go.”

~~~~

After some careful maneuvering through the convenience store and out into the back alley, Taehyung chuckles. You give him a quizzical look, marveling as he runs a hand through his curly hair. 

“What’s so funny?”

Taehyung shrugs, giving you a genuine smile. “I feel like James Bond or something!”

“I’m pretty sure James Bond doesn’t get lost so easily,” you tease, heading down the alleyway with the idol in tow. “So where exactly are you trying to get to? Describe it to me.”

Taehyung does just that, and you recognize the location almost immediately. “Really? I know exactly where that is.” Heading toward the street, you wave down a cab. “I’ll just give them the address and they’ll take you straight there-”

“Um, about that...” Taehyung watches with a wary eye as the cab pulls over. “I don’t have any money, remember?”

“Ah...I’ll just pay him right now. Don’t worry about it.”

You lean down to speak to the cab driver but stop as Taehyung’s hand lands on your elbow. Ignoring the blush undoubtedly creeping up your neck, you look back at him.

“I’ll Venmo you,” he says.

“...ok.”

“But...”

“But?” You straighten, frowning. “What?”

Taehyung looks at the cab, chewing on his bottom lip. “Well, don’t you want to get your money’s worth?”

~~~~

And that’s how you ended up here, sitting in the backseat of a cab giving Kim Taehyung a tour of Aomori. 

You whiz past several monuments, wracking your brain for some sort of historical fact you can give the idol. Whatever you do say isn’t all that impressive, but Taehyung goes along with it. 

“You’re an amazing tour guide,” he croons, a teasing smile on his lips. You roll your eyes, pointing out the window to the setting sun.

“And here we have the sunset. This phenomenon happens every evening, and is often subject to many poor-quality photos.”

Taehyung laughs, going along with your joke. “So why do people take pictures if they don’t turn out right?”

You shrug. “I’m not sure. Maybe because they want to remember it? But it never turns out as good as the real thing.” This time you laugh along with Taehyung before something catches your eye.

“Oh!” You all but shout, pointing frantically at an upcoming building. “This is the hidden gem of Aomori. Best restaurant ever.”

Taehyung follows your line of sight, eyes landing on a dingy restaurant. it’s small, one of those that you’ll miss if you blink. He smiles softly, glancing back over at you with a curious expression. Leaning forward in his seat, he taps the cabbie on the shoulder. 

“Pull over please. We’ll be stopping here.”

You try to protest, frowning at him. “But we’re not there yet, and it’s too far to walk-”

“We’ll take another cab,” Taehyung reassures you. “C’mon. Dinner’s waiting.”

~~~~

And that’s how you ended up here, seated across from Kim Taehyung in a restaurant that you’d never realized was so run-down until you were bringing a global star through its doors. 

He doesn’t seem to mind, though. No, Taehyung is grinning as he orders his food, looking over at you every so often. You do your best to not notice, with no success. 

“I’ll have the yakitori as well, please,” you manage to choke out. Hopefully the warmth inside the restaurant is a good enough excuse to cover up the redness in your cheeks. 

Taehyung sips on his drink, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Here, let me Venmo you.”

“Oh,” you start, shrinking back in your seat. “It’s fine, really. This was kind of my idea-”

“No, it wasn’t,” Taehyung clarifies. “And now I’m treating you to dinner. So, Venmo. Now, please.”

Looking at the way his hair falls into his eyes and those eyes appear so solemn yet boyish at the same time, you wonder if anyone has ever been able to say no to him. 

You certainly can’t.

Taehyung begins asking you simple questions, and you fire them right back at him while you wait for your food. 

“Why are you in Japan?” You ask, taking a long sip of your drink. Taehyung sits back in his seat, looking around the restaurant. 

“I’m visiting with friends. On a vacation of sorts.”

“Of sorts?” You arch an eyebrow. Taehyung smiles softly, eyes alight with some sort of inner glow. 

“How do you know your way around so well?” He asks, completely ignoring your latest question. You decide not to push it. 

“I’ve lived here for a while,” you shrug, watching as a waiter appears with your chicken skewers. Your mouth waters at the mere sight of them, and Taehyung chuckles while watching how your expression changes. “Cheers,” you croon, immediately diving in. 

Taehyung follows suit, groaning as the chicken makes his tastebuds dance. “This is amazing.”

You grin, waving the skewer in the air before chomping down. “Told you so.”

You’ve made it through nearly two skewers before you realize that the two of you have been eating in complete silence. Glancing up, you see that Taehyung must be thinking the same thing as he looks over at you with a sheepish smile. 

Covering your mouth, you cackle and relish in the way Taehyung laughs right along with you. He’s read your mind, setting down his skewer and quickly answering a text before returning his attention to you. 

“Are those your friends wondering where you are?” You ask, heart dropping a bit. Taehyung nods. 

“Yeah. I told them that I’ll be back a little later.” He grabs another skewer. “Should we head out?”

You finish off your chicken, trying your best not to look a little crestfallen as you agree. Taehyung smiles warmly, thanking the waiter profusely as the two of you head out. 

This time Taehyung waves down the taxi, repeating the address you told him earlier. “That’s the right place, right?” 

“Yeah, you’ve got it.” You take a step back. “Thanks for the food.”

He looks back at you, the cab drawing nearer. “Thanks...for everything today.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I actually had a lot of fun.”

You grin. “Me too.”

Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he chews on his bottom lip for a moment before extending it out to you. “Could I maybe have your number?”

Now you’re unable to stop grinning, and you quickly type your number in, triple checking that it’s correct before handing his phone back to him. “There you go. Now, you should probably get going. Cab’s waiting.” You begin to walk away, not wanting to look like some lost puppy as he leaves. 

Taehyung nods, that dazed look back in his eyes as he hesitates. “Actually...” You whirl around a bit too quickly to be casual, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Could we maybe take a photo together?”

You smile, recalling a bit of your conversation from earlier. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those people that takes low-quality photos of the sunset.”

Taehyung’s face lights up, a laugh rumbling through his chest. He meanders over to you, smiling down at you. “What? I want to remember this.” His eyes convey the message that his lips fail to speak. I want to remember you.

So you smile for the picture, and ask him to send it to you. As you wave goodbye as the car takes off down the street, you jump a little when your phone pings twice in a row. 

The first is a message, the photo Taehyung just took. 

The second is a Venmo notification sporting a ridiculous amount of money with the caption, Cab $ - let me know when you make it home.

~~~~

It’s only three days later that you find yourself sitting near the back of a large room, fans everywhere chatting or singing along to whatever song is currently playing. You smile down at your phone, Taehyung’s contact coming up as he sends off a text. 

Tae: I’ll call you in a couple of hours, heading into a meeting. 😊

You snort. He has no idea that you’re here, does he?

The past few days have been a dream, living in nearly constant contact with Taehyung while he enjoys his time here in Japan. However, you never quite found the right time to tell him that you actually know who he is. Let alone the fact that you were going to be in attendance at the fan meeting today.

A couple of moments later the boys appear at the front of the room, and the event begins. 

Your heart pounds as you line up to meet the boys, clutching the item in your hands that you brought for Tae. Most of the boys don’t recognize you, which you expected. Only Jimin gives you a double take, but he shrugs it off a moment later. 

He must have seen the photo Taehyung took with you.

Tae hardly looks up from where he’s focused on each fan, making you smile. The sound of your heart pounding fills your ears as you step forward until you’re in front of him. He’s looking at the fan that just left, who’s still speaking to him. 

You slide your photobook across the table to him, and he immediately begins to sign it. 

“Have you been having fun so far?” He asks, still not quite looking up at you. You grin.

“I have,” you say. Then, sliding the same map you bought from the convenience store toward him, you say, “I got you this. You know, just in case you decide to get lost again.”

Taehyung frowns but looks at the map. His mouth falls open before looking up at you, that beautiful smile taking over his features. He has to physically restrain himself from leaping up, but settles for grabbing your hand in his. 

“Hey,” he breathes out.

You smile, and wonder for a moment if you’ve stopped smiling in the past three days since you met Taehyung. “Hey. So, do you like your gift?”

His eyes never leave your face as he grips your hand a bit tighter. “It’s great, but I don’t think I’ll need it.”

“Oh?”

“Not when I have you as my personal guide.”

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[nbrook29]

Kiss or Slap

Sander doesn’t remember when exactly their group made the riverside near the Scheldt their new hangout spot, but he couldn’t be more grateful for it as a cold breeze washes over his overheated body, providing a momentary relief against the scorching heat falling from the sky. It’s probably why the park is fuller than it usually is on Thursday afternoons, packed with people spread on their picnic blankets, searching for a bit of shadow under the big trees and desperately craving a bit of wind. 

It’s so hot he doesn’t even feel like sketching, preferring to just lie on the grass without moving a single muscle, and dying in peace. Even the enticing smell of cinnamon rolls that Noor brought with her isn’t enough for him to reach out and take one from the basket, the action requiring too much movement on his part.

“Guys, come on, we have to start or we’ll never get it done! Sander, get your lazy ass up.” He grunts when he feels Leon’s merciless fingers jabbing him in the ribs.

“Can’t we wait until it gets a little less hot?”

“No, cause that’s not happening in the nearest future and we need new content,” Nathan butts in, followed by Noor, which makes Sander officially outvoted. So he heaves a deep sigh, puts his shirt back on and ruffles his hair to make himself more presentable, rolling his eyes at Noor’s appreciative whistling.

“Someone’s gonna snatch himself a bunch of kisses today with that smoldering look,” she teases, pretending to give him a once over.

“Is that your way of telling me you want one for yourself, sweetheart?” He’s immensely proud of himself when her entire face scrunches up in disgust.

“Eww, no, feels like incest at this point.” Which is kinda true given the fact they’ve known each other since kindergarten and became best friends making sand castles. He fires an obnoxious wink at her, fully anticipating a shove which comes as expected within seconds, with Noor calling him a creep in between laughter.

“Who should we start with? Senne? Wanna go first?” Sander watches as Leon takes out his camera equipment and checks the settings as the rest collects their things.

“I guess, yeah. And then Nathan after me?”

“I’m not doing it, man, you know Britt, she’s gonna flip out.”

“Be a good reason to break up with her,” Sander mutters under his breath, not really feeling apologetic when Nathan shoots him a glare. It would be a long time coming, and honestly, Sander can’t wait for that moment to come. Just being in her presence gives him chills, she’s that much of a horrible person. A few years ago, he read something about alternate universes and sometimes when he looks at her he can’t help but think there’s a history there with the two of them, in a past life or something. At least it would explain that weird energy between them.

If it’s true, he feels very sorry for that Sander. 

He roots for him to run far away from said devil’s spawn.

“I can go next, I don’t have the ball and chain,” Noor says innocently, but she’s smirking over Nathan’s shoulder at Sander who pretends to high five her in their shared hatred for Britt.

“Yeah, us lonely birds will sacrifice ourselves and take the hit for the wellbeing of our channel,” Sander laments playfully, making Senne snort.

“Dude, you’re on your own by your own choice.”

“And pickiness. Don’t forget pickiness,” Noor adds smugly.

Sander huffs in protest. “I’m not picky! I just...” He cuts off because he’s not about to just explain it all now.

“Just what?”

“Specific about what I want.”

Brown curls, brown eyes, shortish, lean, pierced ear, cute giggle, elegant hands and a smile brighter than the sun. 

To be exact.

“Yeah. That’s picky.”

“Whatever,” he replies grumpily, and decides to ignore Noor’s knowing look. Sometimes he feels like she has a sixth sense and can read him like a book. Or she’s just less oblivious than the boys in their friend group. That’s a totally possible option too.

Thankfully, she doesn’t push him further (she’s awesome like that), though Sander has a feeling she’s gonna grill him later when they’re alone. For now, she checks her lipstick in her phone as they all briefly plan the video.

Not like there’s that much to plan; a few days ago, they decided to shoot a kiss or slap challenge for their YouTube channel because it had been wildly requested by their viewers.

Sander still doesn’t quite know how he became a part of a YouTube channel in the first place, always considering himself to be a bit more, well, sophisticated than that? But Leon was into it from the beginning and made them all participate in exchange for free beer, until one day one of their videos blew up.

If you can call getting 100k views on one video blowing up. 

Anyway, they got semi-popular amongst Flemish teens and even managed to snatch a sponsorship with Mentos (however small the offer was) that paid actual money. And he had just managed to move out of his family house so any money coming his way he welcomed with no questions asked. 

So they’ve kept shooting silly challenges slash anything else that’s a trend at a given time and have been able to cover their art supply needs with what little they earned. And, though Sander refused to admit it in the beginning, it’s actually kinda fun. It’s definitely better than his part time job at Pull&Bear where he has to deal with obnoxious customers on an almost daily basis.

They record a short introduction near the river, quickly going over the rules and explaining that the three of them will be competing in who gets more kisses versus slaps. 

“Hey, you know what, this is actually unfair cause you both can kiss anybody,” Senne points out all of a sudden, receiving four pairs of unimpressed glances.

“No one’s stopping you from getting kisses from boys too, dude,” Sander is quick to shut him up, shit-eating grin on his face as he gives him his first (light) slap to the cheek. 

They follow Senne around the park with a camera as he turns on his charm and smiles sweetly at the girls he chooses for the challenge, doing surprisingly well on the first few attempts. But when they venture deeper into the park and he tries his luck with college girls, he gets 5 slaps in the row to the rest of the group’s utter delight. In the end, his results are a blow to his pride and even Sander feels sorry for him, giving him a pat on the back while trying to hold his laughter in at Senne’s grumpy face.

Noor does much better, naturally, as her upbeat personality and a wide smile have always made boys and girls turn their heads. She gets a kiss after kiss, blush after blush, and two phone numbers in the process. Senne argues again that it’s unfair because no one’s gonna slap a girl anyway, but Leon just calls him a sore loser while Noor shamelessly flirts in French with another girl right in front of the camera.

Sander’s very proud.

Taking a quick sip of water, he gives Leon a thumbs up and starts his round, coming over to three blond girls chilling near the skateboarding ramps, trying very hard not to come off as creepy and clarifying the kiss part being only a cheek kiss. The girls erupt in giggles, but they all grant him a light kiss. One of them tries to flirt with him after, but he shoots her down before she can get too into it.

“Such a heartbreaker, you,” Noor coos at Sander’s pained face when they all walk away.

“That’s you, and you actually enjoy it,” he quips back, sticking his tongue at her.

“I do not, shut up!”

Fifteen minutes and fourteen kisses later he’s officially in the lead, sealing his victory with a kiss number fifteen he receives from a cute redhead. He’s gloating in Senne’s bemused face about nobody choosing to slap him when he stops in his tracks.

It’s the proof of his hopeless infatuation that he’d recognize that laugh everywhere.

He looks around for its source, but he comes up short. Then, his eyes focus on the skatepark area and his heart starts beating faster.

Because it feels like a sign. Like the universe is giving him a chance to finally do something. Make a move.

“Hey, can we shoot one more try?” He asks the guys, trying to sound casual while glancing furtively in the direction of brown curls.

“You’ve already won, but I guess?”

Nobody questions him about his reasons, they just follow him to the ramp.

And he’s so fucking nervous. 

It’s incredible, really, how he generally has no problems talking to people he’s interested in, conversation flowing without him even trying, gaining easy smiles and appreciative looks wherever he goes, some natural confidence to him. 

But that boy. That boy is something else.

He makes him question everything he says, makes his palms sweat and makes his deep hidden shyness come onto the surface.

Sander saw him for the first time during Open Day at the Academie in may, strolling casually through the hallway with his friend, completely oblivious to the turmoil he was causing to Sander’s heart.

That was the day Sander saw an angel. 

Fate placed him on his path again sooner than he could’ve hoped, the boy participating in a 2 week film course at his school only several days after he saw him for the first time. And he tried so hard to convince himself to talk to him over that time, but he only managed a few smiles while passing him by in the hallway. 

That and that one stupid joke he said to him while they were waiting in line at the cafeteria that makes him cringe in despair just thinking about it. Seriously, it’s like his entire cool evaporates when he’s near him.

But, the boy laughed at it. So maybe it wasn’t as horrible as Sander is making it to be. Or he was just being nice. 

Robbe. 

Robbe, who he’s been crushing on ever since that fateful day in may.

Robbe, who was at the same party he was last weekend.

Robbe, who he talked to at that party and managed to calm his nerves enough to be charming and funny.

Robbe, who giggled, blushed and bit his lip at Sander’s dumb jokes that evening.

Robbe, who slipped through his fingers because Sander blacked out soon after.

He almost never drinks, but that one night he did, celebrating the beginning of summer break, and not realizing his usual abstinence meant he was now officially a lightweight. What an awful timing.

Robbe doesn’t notice him right away, having his back turned to him while talking animatedly to his friends. Taking a deep breath and plastering a smile to his face to hide his nervousness, he approaches them.

“Hey guys, got a second?”

He notices the recognition in Robbe’s face right away, and Sander shoots him a quiet “hi” when his eyes meet his, an unsure smile blooming on his face.

“Hey, what’s up?” One of the boys nods at the camera.

“I’m Sander, and we’re shooting a video for our YouTube channel, the kiss or slap challenge,” he quickly explains, the boys’ faces lighting up.

“Hey, we have a channel too! I’m Moyo, this is Jens, Aaron, and Robbe.” Moyo reaches out to bump his fist with him and damn, Sander has to find that channel if Robbe is a part of it.

Jens levels him with a look. “So, you want us to kiss you or slap you?” 

“Pretty much, yeah?” Sander chuckles because he’s aware it’s ridiculous, but he’s a man on a mission here, give him a break.

“I think Robbe should represent all of us, don’t you think so?” Moyo proposes, tongue in his cheek as he checks with the rest of his friends. Sander catches the death glare Robbe sends the boy before looking back at him and crossing his arms, looking a bit out of place. And, fuck, the last thing Sander wants is to make him uncomfortable.

So he asks softly, “you’re in?” and waits for agonizing five seconds as Robbe watches him, eyes narrowed, before his features smooth out and he smiles at him.

“Sure, why not.”

Relieved, Sander lets out a chuckle and tries to keep his cool. “Okay then - kiss or slap?”

Robbe squints against the sun and makes him wait another few seconds before he answers, but Sander’s not worried because there’s a soft smile on his face and obviously his angel wouldn’t-

“Slap.”

Wait, what.

He can hear his friends bursting in laughter at this unexpected turn of events while Sander can only stare in shock because how could he miscalculate the situation this much?

Gulping, confused and heartbroken, he asks, “you’re sure?”, to which Robbe nods with a poorly hidden glee.

“But you have to close your eyes cause I can’t hit you while you're looking at me.”

Heaving a deep sigh and trying to save a face despite the humiliation flooding his body, he nods and closes his eyes, steeling himself for it.

But it never comes.

Suddenly, he feels a hand cupping his cheek and he flinches a little, but then soft lips touch his in a kiss so gentle he blinks his eyes open, not knowing what’s happening.

“That was payback for you promising to call me and not keeping your word,” Robbe whispers against his lips before leaning away, something sad and wistful passing through his face. Sander is left completely dumbfounded, ignoring the hollering from the two groups as his eyes fleet all over Robbe’s face.

It’s difficult for him to collect his thoughts because holy fuck, Robbe has just kissed him and he’s internally freaking out. He finally manages to get his bearings when the remnants of a smile slip off Robbe’s lips.

“I-, Robbe, you have no idea how much I wanted to call you, but I don’t have your number.”

“I gave it to you. At the party?” He doesn’t look like he believes a word Sander is saying.

“Um, I kinda blacked out and don’t remember much after like one-ish?”

“You saved it though, I saw you typing it in,” Robbe argues again, but this time he doesn’t look so sure. “Wait, what’s your number?”

Sander watches him entering digit after digit before hitting call. He fully expects a plain number to appear on his screen, eyes widening when he sees what pops up instead.

zk bambieys 🥺🦌👁️💘🧡💖💞 calling

“Fuck, you did give me your number.” He’s not fast enough to hide his screen from Robbe, but he can't even feel embarrassment once he notices the frown disappeared from his face.

“Bambi eyes?” There's a teasing note in his voice, but his pink cheeks sell him out.

Sander scratches his head. "I was very drunk, you can't hold it against me. Also, your eyes are really beautiful," he clarifies, winking when Robbe laughs at his shameless flirting. "Hey, I tried to find you on instagram, but nothing came up. I was really hoping we're gonna bump into each other again. Sorry for being a dumbass and not realizing I had your number this entire time?”

“It’s okay.” Robbe shoves his hand into the pockets of his jeans, swaying on his heels. Sander decides to put them both out of their misery and take the initiative.

“So if I asked you out, would you say yes?”

It looks like Robbe’s about to nod, but then he bites his lip, an almost cheeky smile directed at him. “I guess you have to call me to find out.” And then he gets on his skateboard and casually skates away to the nearest ramp, pulling a surprised laugh out of Sander.

If he was intrigued before, now he’s totally smitten with this wonder of a boy, because damn. 

Their friends finally seem to regain their voices and speak over each other at what just happened, but Sander doesn’t pay them any attention, just takes out his phone again and pressing the call button. 

Watching as Robbe comes to a full stop at the top of the ramp, he cocks his head with a grin and waits until he picks up.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Sander.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Robbe laughs into the speaker.

“Will you go out with me?”

He meets his eyes across the skatepark as Robbe makes him wait again.

Then, with a smile so radiant it overshadows the sun, the boy finally gives him his answer.

“Yes.”

[nerdzzone]

Only For A Moment: September

Summary: A series of shorter one shots from Chris and Whitney’s life together throughout the pandemic. Some happy times, some harder times, some fluff and some things a little more sexy - they work through it all as they try to get settled in their new and blossoming relationship.

Chris Evans x OFC

Part of the Once Bitten/More Hearts series

Only For A Moment: August

Note: I really liked writing this part so please let me know your thoughts!

-----

September 2020

Before the pandemic hit, we'd planned to send Grayson to preschool in the fall after he turned three. However, with the state of the world when the time arrived, it became a more complicated decision. We knew the benefits - we knew it would give him the opportunity to make friends and jumpstart his learning - but after many long, anxiety filled discussions, we decided to keep him home for another year. We didn't need it for childcare as neither of us had any work on the horizon and he still had another year before kindergarten so he wouldn't be missing out on preschool education completely. The risks just seemed to outweigh the benefits at that point in time given the case numbers in our area.

But not everyone had such an easy choice to make. People with older children had to educate them somehow - whether that be in person or online. In person classes had a much higher risk of exposure to the virus, but online classes were harder for children to focus on and required much more participation from the parents.

Carly had made the difficult choice to keep her kids at home and continue their online education, but it was proving to be harder than she'd anticipated. The kids were tired of learning through a computer and they missed their friends. Despite the risk of in person learning, they wanted to go back to school and were dragging their heels when it came to doing their work at home.

They started in August and by the middle of September, Carly was quickly losing her patience with all three of her children and, after a tearful phone call from his sister, Chris and I agreed to take them for an afternoon. They had some homework that we had to make sure they did, but Chris' goal was more related to sending them home with a renewed appreciation for their parents and a promise to keep working hard.

He'd picked them up just after lunch and given them a stern - but understanding - talking to on the way over to our place, but once they arrived he was back to being fun Uncle Chris and started their afternoon of school with gym class in the form of a soccer game. He ran them around the yard for over an hour before they wrapped up the game and came in for a snack. Then, the real school work started.

"So," Chris clapped. "What homework does everyone have?"

"Math..."

Ethan wrinkled his nose in disgust as he answered and his siblings nodded their heads in agreement.

"Well, it's your lucky day!" Chris grinned. "Whitney happens to be a math whiz! She went to university to be an accountant."

It was hard not to laugh at the disgust on their faces and I was tempted to inform them of the fact that I had dropped out just to retain my status as their uncle's 'cool' girlfriend. I thought that information might not help inspire them to work though so I kept it to myself.

"Why did you do that?" Miles questioned. "That's so boring!"

"It doesn't have to be," I insisted. "Chris, why don't you take Gray to do a puzzle or something and we'll get this work out of the way?"

"Sure," Chris nodded, plucking Grayson off the stool he was sitting on and throwing the giggling child over his shoulder. "And remember, the faster the homework gets done, the faster we can get back to doing fun stuff!"

I waited until Chris had left the room before shooting a smile at the little students that I was left with.

"Okay, now that he's gone, I can show you the secret to making math fun," I told them, stretching up to grab a big jar of jelly beans from the top shelf of a cupboard. It was Chris' secret stash, but I was sure he wouldn't be too mad if I borrowed it. "You just need to find some motivation."

The kid's eyes went wide.

"Are those Uncle Chris'?" Ethan asked, a hint of wonder in his voice.

"Yep," I smiled. "So, let's hurry and get to work before he comes back and catches us."

I shot them a wink and they all scurried off to get their notebooks.

-

It was easier to incorporate the candy into Miles and Stella's math homework as in the younger grades, they were mostly doing addition and subtraction. I helped them use the jelly beans as counters and let them eat them after every few questions. For Ethan, it was a bit trickier. In sixth grade, he was getting more into the start of algebra and some harder level fractions which jelly beans were less useful in. Instead, we used them as motivation and he got to eat a couple of jelly beans for every row of questions he finished.

We almost got away with our jelly bean thievery, but just as the kids were packing up their books, I heard a gasp come from the doorway.

"Are those my jelly beans?!"

The kids all burst out laughing as I shot Chris a sheepish look.

"I'm sorry. They needed some encouragement..."

Chris shook his head, but the smile on his face told me that he wasn't really that upset.

"I trusted you," he scolded me. "Now I'll have to find a new hiding spot and you won't be informed of its whereabouts."

I pouted at that as Grayson scrambled up onto the stool beside me to get his hands in the candy before it was moved.

"You could just be nice and share," I pointed out. "Making them forbidden just makes them more tempting."

"Yeah, Uncle Chris," Ethan nodded in agreement. "Plus, you're always telling us that we have to share stuff."

"You're getting too smart, kid," Chris smiled at him. "But unfortunately for you, I'm still in charge which means you have to do as I say, not as I do."

Ethan rolled his eyes at that as Stella frowned.

"That's not fair!"

"That's life," Chris shrugged. "Now, who's going to help me make some dinner?"

Grayson and Stella threw their hands up in the air as I popped another jelly bean into my mouth.

"What are we having?"

"Pasketti!" Grayson enthusiastically informed me, earning a laugh from Chris as he ruffled his hair.

"Spaghetti," he clarified. "With Ma's recipe for the sauce."

"Ooh, yum!"

I stole one last jelly bean before putting the lid back on the jar. The kids all whined in protest, but if Chris was making dinner then I knew it was time for me to stop stuffing them with sugar.

We all stayed in the kitchen as Chris started getting things ready, giving the kids simple jobs to do like opening jars and the occasional stirring. Dinner was about halfway ready when Miles got a cheeky smirk on his face.

"Uncle Chris?" He questioned, getting Chris' attention. "Aren't you going to sing the spaghetti song?"

That piqued my interest and I raised an eyebrow at Chris whose cheeks were slightly pinker than they'd been moments before.

"What's the spaghetti song?"

"On Top of Spaghetti," Chris informed me as if I should know what he was talking about. I didn't and my face must have shown him that. "C'mon! You have to know it!"

"I can't say that I do," I shrugged. "You'll have to enlighten me."

"Daddy sings it every time we have pasketti!" Grayson informed me, still mispronouncing the word.

"Well, I think I need to learn it then," I smiled. "Go on, Chris. Let's hear it."

The kids all agreed with me, hassling him to start the song.

"Alright, alright," he agreed after a moment of resistance. His cheeks were still looking a little rosy with embarrassment as he took a deep breath and then began. "On top of spaghetti, all covered with cheese. I lost my poor meatball, when somebody sneezed..."

I watched - filled with an almost overwhelming sense of affection for him - as he sang through all the verses of the song. The kids joined in where they could and all of them were giggling by the time he was done.

"Again, again!"

Grayson started the chant, but they all joined in and with a smirk, I did too.

"Yes, Chris! Again, again!" I teased. "So I can film it for Instagram!"

"Ha-ha," Chris laughed sarcastically. "You're so funny, Whitney. There will be no filming of this performance."

"But just think how much your fans would love it," I smiled. "You'd melt the hearts of women all over the world."

Chris let out a laugh at that comment, but didn't have time to respond before the kids took over again, demanding another performance. Once he was sure that my phone was safely out of reach, he launched into another round of song.

-

By the time dinner was done and the kids were all settled in front of the TV watching a movie, my heart was feeling rather full. Seeing Chris with all the children and enjoying the afternoon of a house full of their joy and laughter had me feeling things I hadn't been entirely sure I was ready to contemplate yet.

As I sat at the island in the kitchen, sipping my second glass of wine as Chris finished loading the dishwasher, I broached the subject.

"Today has been really nice," I told him, my voice catching his attention in the quiet room. "Having a house full of kids."

That thought clearly gripped his interest as he spun around to face me, still drying his hands.

"Yeah?" The excitement in his voice was palpable. "We haven't talked about that, have we? Do you want more kids?"

"I do," I smiled at his overzealous reaction. "At least one more. I'd like Grayson to have a sibling. It seems lonely to make him grow up all alone."

"It does," he agreed. "I can't imagine growing up without siblings."

"What about you?" I asked. "I mean, I know you've mentioned in interviews that you want a big family, but is that real? Or just for the family man image that your fans love so much?"

Chris chuckled and shrugged, but there was something sheepish about the way he was looking at me.

"Honestly?" He paused as if waiting for a response, but it seemed unnecessary. We both knew I wouldn't want anything other than the truth in a moment like this. "I want at least two more, maybe even three. Hell, I'd have another one right now if you were willing."

I almost choked on the wine I was sipping as those words left his mouth, but as I placed my glass safely back on the counter, the coughing shifted into laughter.

"We can't have another one now," I protested. "We've only been together for like four months!"

"Five," he corrected with a soft smile. "And we were only together for one night before we had Gray and I think he's turned out alright."

He was right about that and I would have been lying if I said that the thought of another little baby didn't stir something inside me, but the more rational side of me came through.

"We can't just rush into another baby," I insisted. "I appreciate your enthusiasm, but that's a big decision."

"I know it is," Chris assured me. "I'm half-kidding. I know it's not something we can rush into, but another part of me thinks it would be nice to have one now while we've got nothing else going on."

"That's true, but this pandemic won't last forever," I pointed out. "Even if you got me pregnant right now, you'll hopefully be working again before it would even be born. I'm not sure I could deal with Grayson and a newborn all by myself."

"Yeah, but some experts think this mess is gonna last for a few years still which would make this the perfect time to have a baby."

I shot him a look and he shrugged with a smirk.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," I warned him. "Let's just see how this whole pandemic situation goes for a bit longer before we make any massive life plans."

"Alright, alright," Chris chuckled, coming around to my side of the island. He rested his chin on my shoulder and slid his arms around my waist, placing his hands on my stomach. "It would be nice though, wouldn't it? Having another little baby around. Another little mix of the two of us."

I could feel his breath on my neck as his voice was low in my ear and I had to admit that he was right. I was one of the lucky women who actually loved being pregnant and, despite how exhausting and stressful the newborn phase was, I did miss having a little baby around.

But my worries about our ability to co-parent if we split up were still lingering in my mind. They'd been eased slightly by how solid our relationship had been so far, but if it all fell apart, I was still worried about how we would cope. Adding another baby to that so soon seemed like a foolish thing to do.

"It would be nice," I agreed, letting my hands rest on top of his. "It will be nice, one day."

"Well, whenever you're ready," Chris paused to place a kiss on my neck. "Just let me know."

I smiled at his eagerness and turned my head to kiss his cheek.

"I will," I assured him. "And maybe, once the kids have gone home and Grayson's in bed, we could practice. Just so we know what we're doing when the time comes..."

"Oh, I know what I'm doing," Chris practically growled, his grip tightening around me to pull me closer against him. "Don't you worry about that."

I giggled at his confidence before wiggling out of his grasp and standing up from the stool I'd been sitting on.

"I'm not worried, but practice makes perfect, right?"

With a wink, I grabbed my wine and turned to leave the room and check on the kids. Our conversation had given me plenty to think about, but it was comforting as well. I had no doubts that one day I wanted to expand our little family and even if I wasn't quite ready yet, it was nice to know that Chris was on board.

The man was born to be a father, he excelled in every aspect of parenting, and I was grateful that I was the one who got to help him find that role and that I got to share the experience with him.

-

October + November [part one]

Tags:  @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10 @partypoison00 @theladybiers @sidepieces @firoozehmoon @patzammit @sparkledfirecracker @mytbel0st @chvntelle-99

[drowningbydegrees]

Something Ordinary - Part 1

This is my Novigrad Exchange gift for @aalizazareth who asked for fluff, road trip, or hurt/comfort, and I figured how about all of them? I hope this delivers! 

A huge thank you to @goodheavensgwen​ for betaing, but also for all the brainstorming and cheerleading along the way. This fic is so much better for having your input. <3

It’s in the same verse as Noonwraiths and Other Woodland Forest Creatures, but it’s not necessary to read that to understand this one. Not, this is largely fluffy and ridiculous, but there’s some canon typical mention of blood and injury.

Read on AO3

Ordinary people don’t… date witchers. Granted, Geralt has been coming to the diner where Jaskier works for the last year and a half, just about. Twenty-one months, but who’s counting? It isn’t a precisely educational experience, but between the pancakes and mediocre coffee he’s come to realize that Jaskier is anything but ordinary.

Geralt had never meant to do anything with that information. If he sometimes goes out of his way to stop in between contracts, it’s no one’s business but his own. It’s just nice to have one place he can go where someone is genuinely happy to see him. And alright, Jaskier is more alluring than he has any right to be. And perhaps Geralt spends his visits wordlessly nursing a cup of coffee just to have an excuse to listen to Jaskier chatter on about nothing in particular a while longer.

Well, he did, anyway. Things are different in the months since they exchanged numbers after Geralt stumbled in half dead after a contract. Jaskier’s conversation demands more participation, his smiles are more intentional. And though Geralt would like to think he put up at least a token resistance over these last few months (in which he has received what he’s sure are more text messages than his entire life before), somehow Jaskier has pulled Geralt right along with him.

The point is, Geralt doesn’t do this. He doesn’t let himself get attached to people. He doesn’t give himself a reason to maybe stay in one place a little more. He definitely doesn’t go for coffee shop dates. The fact that their current circumstances started with an attempt to do exactly that is completely coincidental.

Wednesday

2:15 p.m.

Like many things in Geralt’s life, things go sideways before they even start. They don’t even make it inside the coffee shop before his phone rings, and given the only person who calls him for frivolous reasons is right next to him, it’s probably important. All of which is why Geralt had to cancel and is pulling into the gas station before a six hour trip to Oreton.

He’s still not sure how Jaskier got here, though. It’s a bewildering leap from a coffee date to committing to hours in an enclosed space together, but by the time Geralt wraps his head around that Jaskier is already in the passenger seat.

“I’ll get snacks,” Jaskier offers, already opening the car door. “Do you want anything?”

Geralt motions to a box in the back seat. “I’m good.”

“Are those granola bars?” Jaskier makes a comically disapproving noise, sliding out of his seat. He leans over enough to poke his head back in. “Do you know who thinks granola bars count as road trip snacks? My grandma.”

“What’s wrong with…” Geralt starts, but Jaskier is already gone.

To Jaskier’s credit, he’s emerging from the gas station once more by the time the gas tank is full. Well, Jaskier along with a bag of what looks like more candy than someone could eat in a week and the two cups he’s juggling.

“I promised you coffee! I can’t guarantee it’s good coffee, mind you, but it is coffee,” Jaskier explains before Geralt can ask, circling the car to press a cup into the witcher’s hands.

He doesn’t do this, and supposes he could be mistaken, but Geralt is pretty certain the coffee isn’t actually the operant word in ‘coffee date.’ Still, it’s… it’s something he doesn’t quite know what to do with. Jaskier has always been friendly, but he’s taken up doing all sorts of things as of late that can’t be chalked up to it being his job, and they never seem to leave Geralt any less unmoored than he feels right now, staring at the paper cup aggressively warming the palms of his hands.

“It’s for drinking,” Jaskier prompts, and as silly as it is, the whole thing only gets more absurd. Because the glare Geralt responds with is normally enough to make people shy away, but Jaskier doesn’t even have the decency to pretend to be alarmed. He laughs, soft and lilting in a way Geralt never wants to let go of, like there’s nothing strange about any of this. Like the two of them are made for these ordinary things Geralt has never given himself the space to want.

But Jaskier has never been ordinary.

3:07 p.m.

He’s made a terrible miscalculation in this plan, Jaskier privately acknowledges about thirty miles from home. This plan. The one that was definitely an actual plan and not just an impulsive desire to go on an adventure and see Geralt in action. Does it count as a plan if he invents a purpose? Maybe he’ll write a song about it. The subject matter is a little niche, but that’s half the appeal.

The other half of the appeal is the man sitting in the driver’s seat, silently watching the nearly empty highway stretch out in front of them. He’s always pretty, but working third shift Jaskier has never really gotten to see Geralt like this, drenched in sunlight that softens his features and mutes the slight frown that seems to own permanent real estate on his face. It’s haunting, the way it lights up Geralt’s silvery white hair, like some particularly attractive ghost.

Therein lies the miscalculation, because the thing is, Geralt is no different than any other time Jaskier has been around him, which is about as talkative as the pet rock he had when he was six. Normally, that’s fine. Geralt tolerates Jaskier’s chatter at the diner. And since it’s Jaskier’s job, he usually only wanders to Geralt’s table for minutes at a time. But there are no places to wander off to in the passenger seat of Geralt’s car, and he’s barely gotten three words out of the witcher since the gas station.

“So, what are we hunting?” he tries, because it’s the one topic he’s seen loosen Geralt’s tongue. A lot, actually. He doesn’t remember even half of what Geralt tells him, but it’s terribly endearing all the same. Even if it leaves him longing to know more about what else Geralt cares about.

“I am hunting a leshen. You are staying in the car,” Geralt replies without so much as a glance his way. If he notices Jaskier’s exasperated sigh, he gives no indication.

“I… remember you mentioning those, I think,” Jaskier focuses on the leshen because it was very definitely on the list of things Geralt told him about the first night he successfully got the witcher to have anything resembling a conversation. He resolutely ignores all the words Geralt just said around that. If he doesn’t lie and say he’ll stay put, then he won’t be lying when he inevitably does not do that. Sheepishly, he ducks his head. “In my defense, there was kind of a lot going on that night. Maybe tell me again?”

That earns Jaskier a smile, however small and brief it is. It’s a win as far as Jaskier is concerned. Now if he could just wrangle a conversation.

“Tall. Sort of humanoid. Covered in branches.” Geralt says nothing else until Jaskier clears his throat, trying to prompt the witcher to give him something at least. “They have antlers.”

“Very informative,” Jaskier chides, shaking his head. He supposes he should have known better than to assume this would work. “Anything else?”

“They live in the forest.” Jaskier is so surprised to actually get an answer, he almost misses the way the corner of Geralt’s mouth twitches upward. “You know, like noonwraiths.”

Jaskier gasps, holding a hand up to his chest as if in shock. “Was that… I’m sorry. Was that a joke I just heard?”

It’s been a ridiculous joke between them for a while now, but it hits differently this time. It’s always silly, but for the first time it sinks in that it’s theirs. They have A Thing, and it leaves Jaskier all but vibrating to realize because that’s… well, that’s significant. It feels significant at any rate.

“You were serious about the woods though, right?” Jaskier asks once he remembers they were in the middle of a conversation.

“I was serious about the woods.”

Jaskier cocks his head to the side, trying to make sense of that. “Then, how is it an emergency?”

“This one was in someone’s yard,” Geralt clarifies. As much as Jaskier would like to be annoyed by the brevity, he has to admit that that actually more or less clears it up.

Jaskier tries to imagine this tree branch antler person… thing creeping over the fence of some poor, unsuspecting homeowner like a nosy neighbor. It’s a mistake, because Jaskier doesn’t know the shape in which those descriptors fit together, so it’s much more comical than frightening. He tries and fails to stifle an amused huff of laughter, but of course that would be the thing that finally gets Geralt to look at him for a second.

“Sorry, I…” Jaskier pauses, not sure he can actually explain why that’s funny since Geralt has the benefit of knowing how all his sparse descriptors fit together. “So, what are you going to do? Bribe it to go home?”

“Not this time. They’re intelligent, but you can’t reason with them. Most creatures kill because they feel threatened or to survive. Leshens are hostile. Always.” The explanation makes sense. It doesn’t sound like there’s any way around killing the creature, but Jaskier knows he isn’t imagining the sadness clouding Geralt’s features.

He has no idea how someone could possibly meet Geralt, who never takes a life if he can save it, who spends his existence keeping people safe, who has so much compassion for even the most unlovable of things, and think witchers are anything but good. Underneath the caustic disposition he shields himself with, Geralt is kinder than most humans. It makes Jaskier yearn to coax the world into seeing what he does.

Maybe he can. There’s the beginning of an idea, but before Jaskier can follow that thread, he’s distracted by Geralt. More specifically, he’s distracted by Geralt being distracted, something finally luring the witcher’s eyes briefly from the road. So, of course Jaskier turns his head to see what could possibly be so interesting.

“Horses?” Jaskier winces when he realizes he’s asked the question out loud. It’s not really even a question. They were definitely horses, one chestnut and one gray, happily grazing along the fence containing them.

“Witchers used to travel that way,” Geralt murmurs, before Jaskier even asks a question. It’s a good tactic, giving one piece of information to steer away from Jaskier’s pursuit of another. Or it would be if Jaskier wasn’t onto him.

“Yeah. Witchers and everyone else. It’d be pretty inconvenient now though, what with all the… highways and stuff. So, I’m not sure I’m following the significance.” Jaskier watches carefully, but Geralt’s expression betrays nothing. “Unless this is the part where you’re gonna tell me you’re three hundred years old or something.”

Geralt is conspicuously silent. Jaskier has never met someone who can express so much with the various ways he chooses to express nothing. It’s an exasperating quality, but impressive.

“Wait. You’re not actually, are you? I mean, not that that’s a problem, per se. Just that—” Jaskier pauses in the midst of his babbling when he catches Geralt turning his head away just the tiniest bit. It’s not fast enough to hide that Geralt seems to be biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

3:34 p.m.

There’s a lot of farmland out this way, miles of cornfields, sure, but animals too. Jaskier briefly entertains the notion that maybe Geralt grew up on a farm and is homesick or something. He’s a storyteller by nature, after all, and Geralt is such an enigma, surely he can’t be blamed for trying to fill in the gaps. Jaskier curiously watches Geralt when they lapse back into silence. They’re surrounded on both sides by… actually, Jaskier has no idea what those fields are. The only crop he actually recognizes is corn. But whatever it is, if Geralt has any attachment to it, his expression betrays nothing.

Jaskier is about to write his previous observation off as him reading too much into something ultimately unimportant when crops give way to a green, open meadow. It’s the kind of place Jaskier thinks looks about perfect for a picnic or laying out to watch the clouds drift by, or something. It’s also the kind of place where someone keeps a rather striking-looking horse, its coat a shade of gold just a touch warmer than Geralt’s eyes. “I’ve never seen one like that.”

“It’s a palomino,” Geralt replies, though Jaskier doesn’t think he’s actually looked that way. Either Geralt is even more subtle than Jaskier gives him credit for, or something about that merits remembering.

“The breed?” Jaskier presses. This is even more fascinating than coaxing Geralt into talking about monsters. It’s not a subject Jaskier knows a damned thing about either, but it’s an unexpected thing Geralt seems to be interested in, and that all by itself makes it worth pursuing.

“It’s not a breed.” Maybe ‘talking about’ is a little too charitable a description for the handful of words Jaskier gets Geralt to part with at any one time. That’s a puzzle too. Jaskier hasn’t quite sussed out whether Geralt actually doesn’t like talking or if it’s a side effect of the way humans tend to respond to witchers. It’s a shame either way. Jaskier quite likes listening to him.

“Okay…?” Jaskier prods. It’s only afterwards that it occurs to him that if Geralt truly isn’t interested in talking, maybe when the witcher is stuck a foot away from Jaskier and can’t extricate himself from the situation is not the right time to push the matter.

“It’s a color.” After a slight pause, Geralt adds, “Gold coat. White mane and tail.”

There’s more after, not that Jaskier can keep up with most of it. Often, even when Jaskier is actively trying to engage, all he gets from Geralt is a wordless hum or a raised eyebrow. So, the fact that there are a number of words in a row is noteworthy already. That Geralt is continuing to speak without being prompted is nothing short of a miracle. Maybe pushing wasn’t the problem so much as finding the right subject matter.

And thus, a new game is born. Whether out of some sense of dignity or something else, Geralt doesn’t actually mention when they pass by horses. It’s the very slight shift in Geralt’s body language, something Jaskier would probably say was him perking up if it were more explicit, that clues Jaskier in if he doesn’t see them himself. But the minute Jaskier mentions them, Geralt appears all too happy to talk about the precise measurement that differentiates horses and ponies (14.2 hands or less, which then becomes an extended conversation about why horses are measured in hands), the Lippizaner stallion troupe (which Jaskier will admit he would really like to see if they’re even half as impressive as Geralt suggests), and that one breed of wild horses that are maybe possibly completely divergent from domestic horses (Jaskier immediately forgets how to pronounce their name, but he does remember they sort of look like especially stocky donkeys).

“How do you know all this, anyway? I’m starting to think you should have gone to work in a stable or something instead of being a witcher,” Jaskier teases after a particularly emphatic explanation about what an utter failure Redania’s wild horse adoption program is. “I mean, it would definitely be my loss, but…”

He trails off, teasing smile immediately fading as he happens to look over at Geralt. Even when he’s happy, Geralt’s expressions tend to be a bit muted, but there’s no trace of anything like happiness now. His head is subtly bowed, like he’s ashamed of something, and that just won’t do at all. There’s nothing shameful about the details that make up a person. Before Jaskier can ask what exactly dampened the mood, Geralt softly replies, “I was going to.”

“You were?” It might be a mistake. This was meant to be fun. It’s just that Geralt so rarely gives Jaskier anything about himself, and Jaskier so desperately wants to know him. He rationalizes that if he drops the matter, Geralt will think he doesn’t care and won’t ever try again. “What happened?”

“Not important.” The words are clipped, but Jaskier has at least known Geralt long enough to differentiate between the witcher being actually irritated and any of the multitude of other emotions that make him sound irritated. This is definitely one of the latter.

“Of course it’s important if it makes you look like that.” Impulsively, Jaskier reaches out to lay a hand on Geralt’s shoulder. The way Geralt nearly jumps out of his skin is a stark reminder that he’s not quite so instinctively tactile as Jaskier is. Geralt doesn’t pull away, but he doesn’t answer either, so Jaskier only lingers briefly before pulling his hand back into his lap.

“I thought everyone was exaggerating about how things would change when they made me into this,” Geralt explains, so quiet that Jaskier has to listen carefully over the engine. It’s an aching, vulnerable thing, as human a confession as Jaskier has ever heard before Geralt’s expression abruptly shutters.

“I’m so sorry… Wait, made you?” Jaskier realizes, not for the first time, that he knows nothing about witchers. Nothing true at any rate.

But whatever strange magic had coaxed Geralt into speaking has passed, and the witcher doesn’t even acknowledge Jaskier has said anything. He longs to know more, to soothe whatever it is that hurts so much, but Jaskier has at least enough sense to realize that if he presses now, Geralt will think twice about telling him anything later. The minutes stretch out between them like taffy, the silence deafening until Jaskier absolutely cannot take it. He impulsively reaches for the radio, turning the dial until the static of a station that’s long since out of range is coming through the speakers. “So… music!”

Geralt’s lips purse in… actually Jaskier isn’t all that familiar with this particular expression yet. His default state is so grumpy, it’s hard to tell this time if he’s annoyed or uncomfortable. Neither one is what he’s going for, so he pointedly does not ask what that station is, immediately setting about adjusting until a melody cuts clearly through the hissing noise. Fic Masterpost

[stargazer-sims]

- twenty-five -

Takahiro helps Fox sit up in bed, and then goes to get him some water from the dispenser out in the hallway. He may have been receiving fluids to rehydrate his body, but there’s nothing as satisfying as drinking a cup of cold water when the inside of his mouth feels like the desert at high noon. He tries not to swallow it too fast, even though he knows he’s capable of downing the entire thing without pausing for breath.

Fox is tired, but other than the persistent ache of his dislocated ankle, he’s feeling remarkably better than he’d felt only a few hours ago. He wouldn’t say he’s at a hundred percent, of course, but the fog in his brain has lifted, his limbs no longer feel heavy and disobedient, and his vision isn’t blurry any more. It’s a significant improvement. He’s satisfied enough to call it a win.

He owes his good fortune in no small part to the slender man sitting next to his bed, watching with an expression of approval as he finishes his glass of water. If Takahiro hadn’t been in the right place at the right time, a damaged foot would certainly have been the least of Fox’s worries. Either that, or he might not have survived to worry about anything at all.

The idea makes him shiver involuntarily. Dying alone in a foreign country is something he definitely does not want to contemplate.

Takahiro is giving him a concerned look. “Fox? You okay? You’re cold or something?”

Fox pulls his wandering thoughts back. “No, I’m fine. Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“The forest,” Fox says. “It was so cold out there.”

“It’s always cold on Yukimatsu, even in summer. Mountain patrol works all year. But it’s good, because we can snowboard all year.”

“I can’t imagine snowboarding or skiing in July.”

“If you’re here next summer, we can go.”

Fox shakes his head. “Even if I’m here next summer, I think I’m going to stay away from the mountain from now on. Today was enough for me.”

“Because you’re scared. When you don’t be scared any more, we can go. I was scared about the mountain before, but I went there again.”

“I’m glad you were there today.”

“I go there a lot with my dog, Hyorinmaru.”

“I think I remember him. He looks like a wolf. Like something from a fantasy story.”

“The only fantasy story Hyorinmaru knows is the one where he got a treat and eat it on the sofa.”

“That sounds like Ruby.”

“You got a dog too?”

“Not exactly,” Fox says.

“What do you mean?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“What is it?” Takahiro wants to know.

"Is there a service here like animal control? Like, people who protect animals and find lost pets?"

"Yes, we have that," Taka says. "Why?"

"Can you help me find the phone number? I need someone to look for my pet."

"Your pet is here with you?"

"Yeah," Fox says. "Don't laugh when I tell you what she is, okay?"

"Why you think I'll laugh?"

"Because Ruby is a fox."

Taka seems to think about this for a couple of seconds. It's obvious he's making a mighty effort not to smile, and Fox has to give him credit for keeping a straight face.

After a pause, he says. "That's... big irony. You know, like you told me on the mountain. When something isn't funny, but you want to laugh anyway."

Fox wants to laugh, too. "Yeah, it is 'big irony' as you put it. The funniest thing is that I usually get annoyed when people make comments about it or when they laugh or whatever, but with you, I don't really mind.”

"It’s because you like me," Takahiro says. He offers Fox a mischievous grin, but then almost immediately looks embarrassed. "Sorry."

“No, don’t say you’re sorry. I do like you, and it’s not just because you rescued me, either. You’re a good person, and I think we might actually last as friends, even after you see the worst.”

“Today isn’t the worst?”

“You haven’t seen me stick a needle in my stomach yet.”

Takahiro shrugs slightly. “I already see my mother stick needles in people. It’s not the worst. You do it every day?”

“Two times every day. I have to do it before I eat breakfast and again at dinner time,” Fox clarifies. “Why does your mother stick needles in people? Is she in health care?”

“A nurse,” Takahiro says. “She doesn’t work now, since two years. She’s sixty-two.”

“She retired?”

“That’s when people stop working when they get older?”

“Yeah.”

Takahiro nods. “She retired.”

“My parents aren’t even fifty.”

“You got any brothers and sisters?”

“I have a sister,” Fox says. “We’re twins.”

“You look the same? With orange hair? And…” He touches his cheek with the tip of his index finger. “Um… sparkles on your face?”

Fox laughs out loud. “It’s freckles, and they’re everywhere, not just on my face. And yes, Clancy has ginger hair and a million freckles, just like me.”

“Everywhere, everywhere?”

“Yeah, literally everywhere,” Fox confirms, still laughing. “But you’ll have to take my word for it, because I’m not going to show you.”

By this point, Takahiro is laughing as well. “No, it’s okay. I don’t need to see. We’re not that kind of friends yet.”

“Yet?”

But, it’s obvious Takahiro is ready to move on from the awkward topic of Fox’s body-encompassing freckles and any potential opportunities to see them. He says, “I’m sorry. You were telling about your pet. I didn’t meant to distract you.”

Truth to tell, Fox is still distracted. We’re not that kind of friends yet, Takahiro had said. Did he think they’d be that sort of friends some day? Did he want to be? The two of them have only just met. Neither of them should be thinking about anything like that. But still…

Fox knows love at first sight isn’t a thing, but now he’s convinced attraction at first sight is. Takahiro is beautiful in the unassuming, easy way that flowers are beautiful; existing in all their delicate, exotic glory without ever realizing just how intricate and visually appealing they are. More than that, there’s something about Takahiro that draws Fox to him, a calm, quiet energy that makes him feel comfortable and safe. He believes he could talk to Takahiro about anything without worrying about being judged and, to his surprise, he doesn’t find it hard to envision a future in which they’re the sort of friends Takahiro had seemed to suggest.

The revelation is startling to him, because he’s never had these feelings about another man before. He’s never even been attracted to a guy, at least not like this. As an artist, he’s objectively able to see noteworthy physical qualities in everyone, and there are people he finds more aesthetically pleasant than others, but this is the first time he’s found himself so captivated by a man that he’s almost incapable of looking away.

I could paint the most intimate portrait of him, Fox thinks.

Then, he gives himself a mental shake. With a rush of guilt and embarrassment, he remembers Ruby, and pushes his meandering attention back in the direction of their conversation.

“Ruby was walking with me,” Fox explains. “She’s usually good about staying with me, but I guess something must’ve been more interesting to her. I need to find her, because she doesn’t know how to survive in the forest by herself.”

“But she’s a fox. It’s a wild animal.”

“I’ve had her since she was a few weeks old. She lives indoors and sleeps in my bed. She has no clue what it’s like to be a wild animal.”

“You sleep with a fox in your bed?”

"Having a fox in your bed is nice on cold winter nights."

Inexplicably, Takahiro's face turns pink, and all of a sudden he looks absolutely flustered. "Uh... we ask Google to find the number for animal services, okay?"

"Okay," Fox says. "Thanks. Hopefully they'll speak English."

"Probably," he says, already sliding his phone out of the pocket of his hoodie. "Lot of English people come here. We got English in important services. You know, for them. Tourists." He doesn't look at Fox, focusing intently on his phone's screen instead.

Fox watches him. "Takahiro?"

"Hmm...?" he says, still not taking his eyes off his phone.

"Listen, I didn't mean to be awkward. I—” He has to pause, to figure out what he really wants to say. "I apologize if I made you uncomfortable just now. I don't want to do that to you."

"You didn't," Takahiro says.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." He lifts his gaze at last. "It's only... my friend Seiji said... He said Canadians know how to get people warm in winter, and he said you would want to thank me, and, uhh..."

"Oh, really? Does your friend Seiji have a lot of experience with Canadians?"

"He did a lot of things with western women he just met. Probably Canadians."

"I see," Fox says, torn between feeling absolutely terrible for Takahiro's discomfort and wanting to burst out laughing at the utter ridiculousness of the situation. "Would you feel better if I said I don't want to come up with creative ways to keep you warm in winter? I can thank you without scaring you or being inappropriate."

"I'm not scared. I just think about stuff I shouldn't think about, and it's weird."

"Weird in what way?"

"Just weird," Takahiro says. "Like, stuff for later. I don't know how to explain it very good."

Fox thinks he understands, despite Takahiro's inability to elaborate. If he were to guess, he'd say Takahiro's lack of English vocabulary is less of a problem than his unwillingness to admit to anything that's going on in his head. Fox gets this, because it's the same dilemma he has.

"If it's any consolation," he says. "I'm having some weird thoughts myself. 'Stuff for later' kind of thoughts."

"Maybe some day we talk about it," Takahiro says. "Not tonight."

"Not tonight," Fox agrees. "I don't think anyone's ready tonight."

"No. We got more important stuff to talk about anyway. I got the number for animal services. You want me to text you?"

"Sure," Fox says, and tells Takahiro his phone number. "That's great, thanks. I can call in the morning."

"Maybe me and my friends can help too. I know the forest really good there."

"Would you do that? I don't want to get your friends involved. I'm sure animal services can—”

"I want to," Takahiro says. "I ask my friends, but even if they don't help, I can look."

"I really appreciate that."

"No problem."

Fox smiles. "I love how you say that."

"Is it my best English?"

"All your English is your best English," Fox says. "Honestly, you have no idea how happy I am that you can talk to me. I'm not doing all that great in language school, and I was starting to get frustrated and lonely because I've been having trouble communicating with nearly everyone."

"Now you don't be lonely. You can communicate with me," Takahiro says. "When you meet my friends, you can talk English with Yuri and Victor. Oh, and you can meet my mother. She talks English a little bit."

"I like speaking English with you."

Before he can stop himself or think better of it, Fox catches himself reaching for Takahiro's hand. Takahiro looks a little surprised at first, and he tenses his fingers, but he doesn't pull away. He stares at their linked hands, and after a protracted moment, Fox feels the tension in Takahiro's fingers slowly ease.

“I didn’t do this with a man before,” he says quietly.

"Me either,” Fox confesses. “You okay?"

Takahiro nods. "Yes. You?"

"Yeah."

Several more seconds go by, and then Takahiro tells him, "People close with me call me Taka. My family and my friends."

"Do you... do you want me to call you that?"

"Yes, please."

There's so much Fox could say in response to this, but nothing in his mind seems fitting. He feels as if anything that comes out of his mouth now will ruin the tenuous connection they're building between them. Even though all of this is new territory for him and he has no idea what might happen next, he doesn't want to do anything to damage the astonishing, nascent relationship they've created.

All he can manage is, "Thank you, Taka. I'm honoured."

[lizbotw]

it’s only sharing a disgustingly sweet milkshake at the local college town diner after both of your evening classes that suna graciously provides the answers to the math homework.

the spongy pencil eraser is easy for you to sink your teeth into as you puzzle over his handwriting. “you know,” you mumble around the nib, trying to figure out if that’s a 5 or a 6, “i never know why you do this to me every week.” this time the drink with two plastic straws floating in an unhealthy heaping of whip cream is a syrupy strawberry flavor.

rintarou tips forward to sip at one of them and in your peripheral, chunky pink-coated fruit pieces travel up the clear tube and disappear between his lips. he releases the straw with an annoying ah that makes you frown, even if you weren’t concentrating in the first place. “aw, don’t tell me you don’t like hanging out with me.” he feigns hurt.

a well placed sip of your own allows you to avoid having to answer that—you have a personal rule of never being sappy in the presence of calculus. if you didn’t like him, suna knows you wouldn’t be hanging out with him—there are just some things you can’t do, even if it’s for the sake of your grade. none of this has to be said out loud of course, but he decides to be annoying and ask anyway.

actually—well... maybe hanging out is... not exactly how this appears to bystanders.

sharing a drink like this, you two probably look more like a couple on a (terribly cheap) afternoon date, rather than two broke college students that split meals to save money and believe that sharing answers for homework isn’t cheating, it’s collaboration.

ha, as if it would ever be different—things like the former never come true. maybe in movies, but that’s about where the line is drawn.

as if he knows what you’re thinking, suna raises an eyebrow at you over the glass, a smile playing on his lips—the same stupid look he always gives you. it feels particularly worse this evening.

it’s hard to avoid eye contact with him mere inches away, but you manage when a car painted a very interesting shade of red rumbles past the fingerprint covered window. you’re grateful for the distraction.

the subject changes when you realize suna has terrible taste when it comes to ordering milkshakes. “what flavor is this?” you spit out the word as though the very concept of calling this a real flavor is more disgusting than the drink itself, smacking your lips and screwing up your face at the excessively saccharine, artificial strawberry aftertaste.

this is no ordinary strawberry milkshake. no, this is a so-bad-only-suna-rintarou-would-order-something-this-horrible-(and-not-necessarily-on-purpose-either) strawberry milkshake.

“valentine’s valor,” he states matter-of-factly like those words mean anything to you. you stare at him until he elaborates. “their valentine’s special,” he clarifies and is gifted with a sarcastic thumbs-up from you in thanks—it is pointedly ignored and suna slings an arm over back of his seat. “dunno the exact flavor though. forgot.”

it tastes like the embodiment of pink, you decide. valentine’s valor. what a stupid name. there are a million and one better words that start with v... you can name at least five with a little thinking. you should ask them to hire you as part of their marketing team, you decide.

maybe it’s fitting title though. you certainly need valor to even think about taking another sip of that... concoction—which you do because you are obsessed with getting your money’s worth.

“valentine’s day was half a week ago?” your mental calendar helpfully supplies.

the clatter of pans in the back kitchen somehow mingles charmingly with the way rintarou throws his head back to laugh—a scene straight out of a movie really. you decide you hate him in the moment. “right you are. want a prize?” ugh. you stick your tongue out at his tone.

great. as if to add insult to injury, of course you’re sharing an out-of-date love holiday special with suna of all people. valentine’s was four days ago and this is where you are on a thursday night. the sticky upholstery of the booth seat, ripped and fraying at the corners, squeaks and groans and attaches itself to the fabric of your jeans as you shift around, suddenly hot. what a strange situation to be in, you think. this has to be a metaphor for life—then again, you’d been thinking this whole... thing has been a metaphor anyway.

yup, ever since suna sat next to you in a calculus II lecture all those fated months ago and took pity on how much you fucking sucked at math, up until the present where he takes slightly less pity on you but does enjoy emptying your dorm mini-fridge and making you pay for his milkshakes—all of it. this entire thing with him. one big stupid metaphor.

the specifics of how you came to have a routine like this are certainly murky, but two things are for certain—one, your calculus grade is certainly a lot better than it would have been otherwise, and two, you have one friend more than you did at the start of the school year. (that last one is kind of a big deal, you think. the college social scene is brutal. the word friend has started to become more disappointing than exhilarating lately though.)

rin reaches to your left to pick at the fries you’d ordered as a side—you’ve learned not to try and stop him. “also,” he adds, mouth full, “you’re totally getting me a new pencil after this.” yes, true, the pencil you’re currently leaving frustrated teeth marks all over isn’t yours. very easy to forget in the moment. you’ve probably destroyed 15 of his pencils by now for the 15 weeks of the last semester—only 7 so far for the current one. you do the mental math.

instead of drawing in the sharp lines of the differential equation that should be going in the question box, you lightly trace in the curves of a 2 and then another one next to it in the corner of the worksheet, graphite underlining them both in one swoop. the horribly thin paper of the school library’s printer is scratchy as you write but soon you flip the pencil over and under your fingers to tap the eraser (that has seen better days) just below what you wrote. “this is pencil number 22.”

suna leans over to look at the number as if you hadn’t just told him what it said. what an idiot. “glad you’re keeping count.” he settles back into his seat. “when can i expect my reimbursement?”

“you’re funny,” you say, without a hint of humor in your voice. the pretty 22 you had written now has flower petals growing off of the sides as you get distracted doodling along the edges of your work. it’s quiet for a moment as he watches you, or maybe as he takes the chance while you’re distracted to shove more french fries down his throat—either option is plausible and you don’t lift your eyes to check.

something occurs to you.

“rin.” you take an extended pause in between the words as you continue drawing, just to annoy him. you don’t continue speaking until he grumbles in acknowledgment (you try to hide your smile). “do you ever doodle in your notebooks?” now that you thought about it, suna was surprisingly pretty straight-laced when it came to class—you couldn’t ever recall him ever slacking off to the degree that meant his pages were filled with hearts and stars and flowers and suns and atomically inaccurate animals and tiny people in different colored ink. your work was always certainly the more vibrant out of the two (perhaps that could explain your grades and how you understand like... nothing in your lectures, but you decide correlation does not equal causation).

“waste of time,” he says around another mouthful of fries, another one already halfway there to his mouth.

suna is also surprisingly negative at times—but the blue book flipped open to his homework says maybe he’s just a liar though. you squint at it.

“it’s still pretty early but we probably should get out of here soon,” suna says, pulling his phone out from his pocket to check the time and leaning his elbows on the table. “i’ll walk you back. your roomie doesn’t leave the gym until 9—before you ask, yes i’ve been keeping track. it’s not stalking if it’s for my own sake.”—rin is, of course, referring to the long standing rivalry between him and your (very nice, might you add) roommate you don’t really understand but which has cumulated in him deciding he would avoid them as much as humanly possible purely out of spite. (“the only person i like in dorm 302 is you,” he’d told you one time and the throwaway sentence maybe made your heart flutter more than it probably should’ve.)

the bell above the front door jingles behind you as another patron enters. rin glances up at the sound and then returns to his phone with a bored bat of his eyes, probably scrolling through twitter or replying to texts, and picking at his teeth with a toothpick (where did he even get that?).

you try to get back to work (copying) but something in your gut tells you there’s more to his notebook than the messy handwriting and crossed out words that meet the eye.

with suna distracted, you take the chance to carefully slide the book towards you and then, in a single quick swipe, pull it into your lap under the table, already leafing to the back pages—everyone knows that’s where the real secrets are—not sure what to expect. a flash of color makes you pause and you flip back to a page that has the corner folded into a tiny, crisp triangle.

whatever you were thinking suna had stashed in the back of his calculus notebook certainly does not match up with what’s staring you in the face currently. sparkly, gel-inked hearts in neon colors glitter under the fluorescent overheads. in each of them, written in capital letters neater than you thought possible for suna, is your initials, a small plus sign in the middle, and then S.R. (for none other than suna rinatoru) next to it. it instantly makes sense to you. “rin, what the fuck.” one side of the book dangles from your hand, pages fluttering, and you hold it up for him to see, other hand flying to cover your mouth because you don’t know whether to laugh or pretend to be mortified or what.

it’s very amusing to watch how suna goes from a disinterested stare, to widened eyes, to reaching over the heaps of school supplies to attempt to grab the book from you, frantic. you hold it just out of reach. “what are you—” an old lady at a table shushes him when he half-screams. “—give that back,” suna whisper-yells instead in the greatest verbal equivalent of tiny caps you’ve ever heard.

“not a chance.”

he looks like he wants to lunge across the table and pry his prized possession from your meddling hands, but also has half the mind not to make a scene. getting kicked out and then subsequently banned from his favorite diner all on a noise complaint and disorderly conduct accusation was not ideal.

you hum, flip back to your place, and observe the drawings covering the lined pages. you shoot him a venomous smirk over the edge of the cover, one that’s more theatrics than anything, and say with all the satisfaction of someone who knows they have all the power, “oh, this is gold.” he deflates and you feel grateful he doesn’t see right through your facade because oh man are you sweating inside right now. what the fuck? no way suna rintarou is drawing little hearts with both of your initials in it like a lovesick middle schooler. no fucking way. you almost want to tell him that you did the same thing once when the thoughts about him had gotten especially bad (you felt guilty afterwards though, thinking you never had a chance with him, but... now... if he’s doing the same—well, that kind of changes everything).

suna is utterly defeated you think—doesn’t even try to defend himself, just slumps in his seat with a groan. you at least expected a “i can explain!” from him, a last attempt at dignity, not the resigned “i’m never going to live this down, am i?” he mumbles after a few seconds. well, either works for you.

“nope,” you quip, maybe a little too cheerfully because the response you receive is a distressed wail and him banging his head against the table. the old lady shushes him again. you chuckle at that (it feels a little wobbly though because once again, freaking out here) and flip the page. you stop.

this one has similar perfect little hearts drawn all over it, but there are other things. cute, standard shaky drawings of misshapen dogs and volleyballs and other things you never thought suna would take it upon himself to create but all of which make sense are there. but there’s something else. little scribbles in the corners with your last name swapped with his and even him trying out his name with your last one—all of them are scratched out but not so much you can’t read them. a list on the right in a very tiny font that makes you think he was embarrassed even penning the words is titled “date ideas?” (the question mark is in red and the dot is a heart) and has several popular spots around town written down in the local lingo of unofficial names for them.

“listen... please let’s forget about this.” rin’s voice is muffled and he’s still faceplanted. “it’s fine if you don’t... you know... yeah.” if you don’t feel that way, he means. true, the doodles were a pretty good indication of his feelings.

what to do...

well... you take pity on him, let your lips upturn and your eyes soften to reflect the sentiment, and shut the book with a quiet thud. you slide it back across the table from where it came and back to him silently. you give it a resounding pat when suna peeks up at you, expression saying it all—he was so going to get you back for this. you stick your tongue out—acceptance of the challenge. and just like that, you’re friends again—maybe that’s what’s so great about suna.

as you get ready to leave and slowly begin the trek back to the dorm buildings with him, street lamps glimmering a pasty yellow, there’s no awkward tension, no need to ask questions, no verbal wonderings about what ifs between you two. it’s just joking and shoving each other around and challenges to see who can run to the next tree the fastest in the middle of the chilly february night. you know, maybe for now you’ll keep your own thoughts a secret.

[queenofspades20]

Dog walk

Synopsis: Just a little something inspired by my dog's antics today. Didn't meet anyone out of it (sadly), but was pretty funny. I'm sure I looked ridiculous. Could be seen as an AU or not (no mention of missions or anything).

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: some curse words, mostly just fluff.

Y/n ran into the door after getting home from work. She saw her sweet dog on the couch.

“Hi, Baby! I missed you so much today,” she said, as she walked over to pet him. Loki twitched his tail and adjusted his body, letting her know that he was excited she was home, but, as per usual, refused to get up.

Y/n sat next to him, petting his ears. She leaned down and kissed the top of his fluffy head. After a couple minutes of giving Loki some attention, Y/n got up.

“Okay, Bubba. I’m gonna change real quick and then we’ll go for a walk.”

Loki looked at her with interest at the “w” word, but didn’t move. Y/n went into her bedroom and changed into some workout capris and a tank top. She made her way back to the front door, where Loki’s harness and leash were hanging.

“Come on, Bear. Let’s go for a walk.”

Loki huffed and moved so his front paws were on the floor, while his hind legs were still on the couch and he stretched.

“Oh, good stretch. Come on, now. Let’s go.”

Loki’s back legs hopped off the couch and he sauntered over to where Y/n was standing. He allowed her to put on his harness, staying still. Once it was clipped into place, Y/n grabbed the dog bag dispenser and keys from their hook and led Loki out the door.

The walk went as it went every day. Loki sniffed and did his business, taking his time. They made their way around their neighborhood, Loki stopping frequently to smell each blade of grass. When they got halfway around the neighborhood, Loki decided he no longer wanted to walk and sat down.

“Okay then,” Y/n said, looking at her dog. This was a regular occurrence during their walks. Luckily, she wasn’t in a rush to get anywhere, so she decided to sit down next to him.

Loki immediately got excited and started sniffing her hair, trying to take a bite.

Y/n couldn’t contain her laughter as Loki then started to rub his body on her back, like a cat would. Luckily, this was not the first time Loki decided to show affection, so she was able to brace her body as he threw his against her body.

“Silly boy. What are you doing? Are you looking for butt scritches?” As she said this, Loki moved his butt towards her face, demanding pets. His tail hit her in the face. She moved her head, laughing. Y/n reached over and started rubbing his back. Loki started dancing from side to side, just lifting his back legs, enjoying the attention.

Bucky and Sam were walking around a neighborhood, where Bucky was thinking about buying. He wanted a change from the dark apartment he had been living in.

“What do you think, Buck?” Sam asked, looking around.

“It’s quiet around here, but not bad. I like it.”

They had just looked at one of the places for sale. It was just perfect for a single person. The price was pretty reasonable and it was in an area where there were plenty of restaurants and things to do nearby.

“I think you should get it if you like it. The realtor said they’re pet friendly, too, so you can think about getting something.”

“What would I get?”

Sam looked over and saw a woman with her dog. They were practically wrestling, though the dog was clearly in the lead. “A dog would be good.”

“Dogs are scared of me.” Bucky hadn’t noticed the woman yet, engrossed in looking at the details the realtor had provided.

“I doubt that.”

“A dog would never want to get near me.”

Sam tapped Bucky on the shoulder and pointed to the woman and the dog. “I bet that dog would.”

Bucky saw the pair playing. He smiled at the sight before him. “Yeah right. I’m sure that dog would attack me before I got too close to its owner.”

“Dinner says the dog wouldn’t attack.”

“Fine. I’ll go.” Bucky grumbled. He was sure the dog wouldn’t let him near the dog or its owner.

As he made his way over, he was struck by how pretty the owner was. Probably married, he thought to himself. When he was about 20 feet away, he made himself known.

While he expected the dog to jump in front of its owner, not what actually happened. The dog jumped and tried to run away, pulling the woman back, almost causing her to fall flat.

“Loki! You scaredy cat!” Y/n yelled, laughing. She pulled him closer and rubbed the top of his head. “You’re fine, Bubba. He’s not even that close to us.”

Bucky felt horrible. “Are you okay?”

Y/n smiled at him. “Yeah. Not the first time he’s done that. He’s easily startled. Definitely not guard dog material. Is there something I can help you with? I’m assuming you wanted to speak with me.”

Bucky thought she had the kindest eyes he had ever seen. He felt himself flushing. “I was wondering if I could pet your dog.”

“Sure! Just walk a little slowly and it helps if you crouch down when you get closer. He’s not a fan of people bigger than him,” Y/n said with a laugh.

Bucky moved forward and did as she suggested. He crouched down. Once he did, the dog inched his way towards Bucky. Bucky held out his hand. “It’s okay, Buddy. I won’t hurt you.”

“Go ahead, Loki. Make a new friend. He just wants to pet you.”

Bucky kept his eyes on the dog. “Loki?”

The woman smiled at him. “He’s a bit chaotic and every once in a while, I’m convinced he’s dead set on world domination. Just gets that look in his eyes. Seemed to fit. That, and he actually answered to it. He wouldn’t answer to the name he came with.”

Bucky looked at the woman with a bit of confusion on his face.

“Shelter dog,” she clarified. “The shelter asked me if I was going to change his name. I told them I was thinking about it. And the woman doing the paperwork was just like, ‘good. Cuz he won’t answer to the one he has now.’ Kind of made up my mind for me,” Y/n said with a laugh. “I’m Y/n, by the way.”

Bucky smiled at Y/n. “I’m Bucky.”

“Nice to meet you, Bucky. Are you new to the neighborhood? Haven’t seen you around before.”

“Uh, I’m thinking about buying one of the units that’s for sale.”

“Well, it’s a great area. Not crazy expensive, plenty of things nearby, but also pretty quiet.”

“I was noticing that.”

There was a lull in the conversation, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Bucky kept petting Loki, when Loki moved around Bucky and started to sniff at his hair.

“What the . . .” Bucky started. He felt a cold nose on the back of his head. It wasn’t unpleasant, but was definitely a weird feeling.

“Um, so I think he’s going to scent mark you.”

Bucky looked terrified. “He’s going to what?” Bucky tried to turn around to face the dog, but the leash was preventing him from fully turning around.

“So, like when a cat rubs its body on your legs, Loki likes to rub his body on your back. He rarely does it. He must really like you.” Y/n looked surprised. She moved her hands down the leash and stood up, trying to pull Loki closer to her without it hurting Bucky or Loki.

Bucky felt a mass of weight move against his back. He caught himself before falling.

“Loki, stop,” Y/n said sternly. “Shit, I’m sorry.” She managed to get Loki to move further away from Bucky.

Bucky just laughed. “It’s okay. Not what I expected when I came over here. You said it’s cuz he likes me.”

“Well, he’s marking you as his.” Y/n moved to look at Bucky’s back and winced. “I’m sorry. Your back is now full of dog fur.” She made to brush some of it off.

“It’s fine.” Bucky felt a sudden surge of confidence. He had thought Y/n was pretty. “If you wanna make it up to me, you can let me take you to dinner one night, maybe show me around the area?”

Y/n looked surprised. She had never had someone come on to her like that before, but she couldn’t deny she was interested in the gorgeous brunette. “I can make it up to you by letting you take me out? Shouldn’t I be the one paying?”

“I’m old fashioned.” Bucky waived off her comment. “So, what do you say?”

Y/n smiled. “I’d like that. Let me give you my number and we can set up the details.”

Bucky unlocked his phone and held it out to Y/n. Y/n reached out and quickly put in her number, sending herself a text. She heard a R2-D2 beep, letting her know the text had gone through. She handed the phone back to Bucky, who saved her number.

“I sent myself a text, so I know not to ignore your call. I tend to not answer unknown calls.”

“Smart. Well, I’ll be seeing you soon then.” Bucky leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

“Bye, Bucky.” Y/n had a slightly dazed look in her eyes, surprised by Bucky’s kiss. She bit her bottom lip, trying to contain the giant smile she felt coming. “I look forward to hearing from you.”

Y/n turned away and led Loki on to walk more. Bucky made his way back over to Sam, who was smirking.

“So, where are you taking me to dinner?”

Bucky looked at Sam. “Normally, I’d have a comment, but as I got a date with a beautiful dame, I’m gonna let it go.”

Sam smiled victoriously. They made their way over to the car. “Let’s go to dinner and you can tell me about her.”

[mrsalwayswrite]

To Call Forth Love - Chapter 6

Haha, I’m so excited for this chapter. Please let me know what y’all think! Also a huge thank you to everyone who has liked/commented/reblogged. You guys deserve all the love and cookies possible! 

Warnings: swearing, fluff (i think that’s it, sorry if i miss something)

Words: 7300 (i feel like my chapters keep getting longer. oops?)

Tag List: @heavenly1927 @youbloodymadgenius @zuxiezendler @punkrocknpearls​

Series Masterlist

The aroma of coffee surrounded Kari like a warm, comforting blanket. The café was just the perfect amount of busy, there were a few other tables occupied but without feeling cramped or overwhelming. The lunch rush was just beginning, indicated by the number of patrons standing in line to order now. 

 The brunette sipped on her latte as she slowly swiped through the pictures on Gyda's phone. The two were finally meeting up for an early lunch and coffee after a yoga class. Gyda had been gushing about the trip she just returned from to Phnom Penh, telling stories of the week she spent there and letting Kari slide through the pictures on her phone. 

 "These are just gorgeous. Gods, you have the best job, I swear."

 Gyda laughed, picking at the muffin in front of her. "I know. I can't imagine doing anything else though."

 "When do you leave again?"

 "Mmmm…. I’m not sure yet. The company is wanting me to go to Vancouver, British Columbia next. I might wait until the end of September to go. I'm not sure. Either way, it won't be for at least a month. Depends on how soon I want to go visit mom."

 "Why wouldn't you want to go soon?" Kari perked up at the mention of Gyda's mother. She knew the two were close, but all she really knew about Lagertha was from what Ivar told her.

 "I'm not a fan of her new boyfriend. Sorry, she prefers the term "lover". Kalf works for her, specifically with contacts from their Mediterranean partners and overseeing some of the shipments."

 "Why don't you like him?" She swiped to the next image, a stunning picture of the Cambodian royal palace. 

 The blonde waved her hand vaguely, as if swatting a fly. "He hasn't done anything; I just don't like him."

 "That's fair. Does he treat your mom well?"

 "Yeah. She just has shit luck with men and I'm worried how this one will turn out." She sipped on her coffee, gazing out the nearby window for a moment. 

 Kari turned back to the phone, guessing there was more that Gyda was not saying. Not that she needed to know. No, she had enough drama in her life currently and his name was Ivar. 

 Both women lounged in the wooden café chairs, still in their yoga clothes, having come straight from the studio. Except Gyda changed her footwear, losing the sandals for a pair of wedge heels that made her long legs look like skyscrapers. It was hard not to envy Gyda's body, and Torvi for that matter. They both had the perfect hourglass figure, with all the right assets and gorgeously braided, blonde hair. Maybe it was some standard that women around the Lothbroks had perfect bodies. It made Kari wonder why Ivar paid her any attention then. Her body was far from perfect. Her chest side was decent, but she always thought her hips and thighs were too large. Most likely leftover critiques from her mother who not-so-lovingly would say Kari was pear-shaped and needed to focus on losing all that extra or no man would want her. Not that she was trying to get a man. Over the past two years she had finally come to embrace her body and was learning to be comfortable in her own skin. Though some days were better than others. It was still difficult to watch Gyda receive appreciative looks from many of the patrons as they passed by their table and know none of them would even give her a second glance. The blonde was effortlessly beautiful. Perhaps there was a way for her to teach Kari that. 

 Suddenly Gyda zeroed in on the brunette with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. "Speaking about men…."

 "Are you going on a date?" 

 Gyda snorted, with an amused grin on her face. "Hell no. I'm not interested in a relationship right now. I am perfectly fine being single. Stop changing the subject. There is a little something going around the Lothbrok rumor mill that Ivar took you on a date to Casa mia, Maggiore."

 "Not a date, it was just as friends." Kari clarified. 

 She gave her an incredulous look. "Just friends?"

 "Yes."

 Gyda narrowed her eyes at her. 

 "What? We went out to Casa mia, Maggiore and then I convinced him to go to Masterpiece. After he dropped me back off at home. Nothing happened."

 "Right…." Gyda hummed. "So, it was a date."

 Kari dropped her face into her hands with a groan. "Not a date. Just friends."

 "Whatever you say. Just know Ivar doesn't take just anyone to his favorite restaurant. Hell, I think he only took his ex there once in the ten months they were dating. He usually only goes with Aslaug."

 "Oh? Um, I didn't know…" The brunette hated how she perked up at this new information. It should not matter hearing that he never took anyone, that it really was his favorite restaurant and he wanted to share it with her. In their texting, he made reference to when they went back, what food he wanted her to try next. Something apparently, he was not even inclined to do with an ex. No, none of that should matter. But it did, and the way her heart swelled at the realization only proved that to her. 

 "Clearly he really likes you to take you there. Do you like him?"

 "Sure, he's a good friend."

 Gyda sighed dramatically, tipping her head back. "You're killing me, Kari! Fine! When was this not-date? A week ago?"

 "Eight days, yeah."

 "Have you hung out since then?"

 "Yeah, he picked me up once and we went out for dinner. Another time, he took me out on my lunch break. He had to go on a business trip so I haven't seen him in…. three days?"

 "Right. I'm guessing he's blowing up your phone while he's been gone?"

 Kari took a sip of her drink as she mumbled, "sort of." The truth was they were practically texting non-stop. It was mostly discussions, and arguments on his side, of superficial things like TV shows, the proper time to wake up in the morning and her lack of clothing that was more than yoga attire. Other times they sent memes back and forth or links to funny YouTube clips. Kari never realized how lonely she was before Ivar thrust himself into her life with all the force and subtlety of a rocket. 

 "What does that mean?" Gyda eyed her for a long moment before she gasped and slapped the table. "Oh shit! Is he sending you dick pics?"

 Kari choked on air. After hacking for a couple of seconds, tears coming to her eyes because of the action, she vigorously shook her head. "No! No! Ewww....no! We keep sending stupid memes to each other and talking about where we should go out next. That's it. I promise."

 The blonde laughed loudly at Kari's reaction, who fiddled with her earring, face burning with embarrassment. The two sat quietly for a couple of minutes, sipping their drinks and watching the line of lunch patrons increase. 

 "So…. it kind of sounds like you're dating."

 "No, we're just friends. Why can't friends just hang out?" Kari tried to argue. The beginning tendrils of annoyance creeping in at constantly having to defend their friendship. 

 Gyda stared at her. "Have you made-out?"

 A blush colored Kari's cheeks before she could figure out a good enough lie, giving away the truth. 

 "What?! How often?!" Her enthusiastic friend cried, before waving her hand once again. "Never mind. Listen, he's taking you out to his favorite restaurant. He is clearly going out of his way to spend time with you. He is texting you! You don't realize how big of a deal this is for him! He generally hates people. I'm positive he has murder plans for most of those he is forced to be around. Does he know you're just friends? Because to me, it doesn't sound like it."

 Kari covered her face with her hands, tears of frustration springing to her eyes. Ivar and her could only be friends, that was what she promised herself. If he knew her, the real her…. it would never happen. He would never want her. So it was best to remain friends, to protect both of them from the inevitability that anything more would never happen. Even though their line of friendship was blurring…. and that was the worst part. She found herself wishing to continue to blur that line, even when she knew it would only end in disaster. Taking a deep breath, she could smell his cologne, a scent she had become so used to now. Her mind could easily conjure the feeling of being in his arms, his mouth on hers as she gave in under his touch. She cared for him, deep down she knew more than a friend. Although he could annoy her to no end, she enjoyed his presence, his humor, that vulnerable side that peeked out occasionally, how he made her feel safe and beautiful. 

 Now hearing Gyda pointedly telling her that Ivar was treating her as more than a friend. It left her speechless and wondering if she was making a mistake. 

 Gyda’s tone softened when she spoke next. "Why are you so set on just friends?"

 "I just…. I don't want to date right now. After my last relationship, I just want to focus on myself."

 "That's fair but listen, he isn't going to wait around for you forever."

 "I know. I don't want him too." She admitted, tugging on her earring. Though her statement was the truth, it still tasted bitter on her tongue. 

 "Ok, but does he know that? It sounds like he’s set on you, but I'm going to warn you. Don't break his heart. He isn't the type to recover from heartbreak. His heart is already locked up more securely than Fort Knox but if you break it…."

 "I promise, that isn't my intent. I just…. can't. I like him, more than I thought I would. He is funny and charming and sweet but also infuriating and demanding and I've had more fun with him than I've ever had with a guy friend before. He…. I can be myself around him and I think he can too. But I just…. It can't go further than friendship."

 Gyda mulled over her words. "Alright. I don't fully understand but I get it. It's nice to hear that he's connecting with someone. None of us liked his ex. He only really spends time with family or Floki."

 "I don't want to hurt him." Kari whispered. 

 "I know. You're too sweet to purposefully do something like that." The blonde tilted her head to the side with a slowly growing smug look. "I give it until the end of the year and you'll be naked in his bed."

 "Gods! What? Why would you say that?"

 "He's a Lothbrok. They always get what they want."

 *****

 Kari laid curled up on her full-size bed, her laptop up and watching Downton Abbey. A heating pad rested on her abdomen as she waited for the pain relievers to kick in. Most of her life she was happy with, but the one thing she would easily trade out would be the painful cramps when PMSing. The birth control she took helped out, but there was usually still one day that the dreaded cramps hit hard. 

 Her phone dinged. Languidly reaching over, she grabbed it from beside her pillow and opened it to check the text. 

 Ivar: wat r u doin?

 He texted her earlier that day saying he was returning home from his sudden business trip. 

 Kari: nothing

 Ivar: good. bts. 

 She groaned, slamming her face into her pillow. She did not have the energy to deal with him right now. All she wanted was to relax and eat her body weight in chocolate. After a moment of self-pity, she texted him back, hoping she could get out of whatever he had planned already. 

 Kari: no, I don't feel good.

 Ivar: wat wrong?

 Kari: nothing bad.  

 Sure, they had been talking daily for over a week but that did not mean she wanted to divulge her period issues to him. There were a few things she knew and one was that guys did not like talking about the menstrual cycle. 

 When he did not text back right away, she turned her attention back to her laptop and the TV show playing. Soon enough the magic of pain relievers and hot pads kicked in and her pain was minimal, though she had no intentions of leaving her warm cocoon. Alana was at her night class, so Kari was home alone. Not unusual really, but tonight she certainly felt the urge to lay around and do nothing. 

 After about twenty minutes, she heard a loud knock on her front door. Alana was not home, so it could not be any of her friends. Her neighbor, Erik, never just showed up. He always made sure to text before coming to her door. Maybe there was some kind of emergency? Or a package being dropped off? Though at this time it was certainly getting late for any kind of deliveries. Then it hit her. 

 Ivar. 

 "Ughhhh," she groaned, rolling out of her bed. For a split second she contemplated not answering it, just staying in her warm bed. She knew, though, if she did not get it, he would probably bust the door down. Maybe even set it on fire to make a point. He seemed like the type to light things on fire for fun. 

 As soon as she opened the front door, those intense blue eyes scanned over her body as if looking for some unseen disease. "What's wrong with you?" He barked at her, one hand still on the doorframe.

 "What?" She blinked owlishly. 

 "You said you don't feel good." He gestured towards her, his gaze still searching. "What's wrong?"

 "Um, it's nothing. Just cramps. It's better now."

 "You sure? It's nothing worse?"

 She was touched by his concern, the way his last questions were said in a breath of relief as if actually worried about her health. "Yeah, happens every month. I'm fine."

 "Ok, good. Get changed, Hvitty and I are going to see a movie. I want you to come with us."

 "Ivar, you should hang out with your brother…."

 "I fucking live with him. He's fine with it. Go change."

 She sighed, knowing by now there was no way she was making it back to her warm cocoon and Downton Abbey. Besides, she had missed him while he was gone and found herself wanting to spend time with him. Not that she wanted him to know that, it would only inflate his ego. "I'll only agree to come with you on two conditions."

 "Fucking what?" He growled, though she could see the amusement in his eyes. 

 "First, I'm wearing my comfy clothes." She waved her hand at the pair of soft, black leggings she wore and the thin, slouchy sweater with the word 'beautiful' printed on it. "Second, and this is the most important condition, you have to buy me a stupid amount of chocolate."

 He rolled his eyes, but a smile tugged on his lips. "If that's all, princess…."

 "Oh, give me a minute. I'll think of something else… and it's not princess. It's m'lady."

 "Shut up. Get your shit. I'll meet you at the car."

 She laughed as she raced up to her room to grab her purse, not even bothering to change out of her clothes. The only addition was to throw on a zip up jacket that was a size too big on her. She always found movie theaters too cold to be fully comfortable without a jacket. 

 The vehicle waiting for her this time was a luxury SUV. She stopped for a moment in the driveway, unsure what to do. She wondered what the neighbors would think of her getting picked up in this and how many knew Lothbroks were sitting in it. Hopefully no one was paying attention. The one of the back doors opened so she headed that way. Ivar slid over and she followed him into the vehicle, closing the door behind her. 

 "Took you fucking long enough, m'lady."

 She smirked at the nickname. "Well, you did just show up at my door and told me we were going to see a movie. At least the other times you gave me a heads up to be ready."

 "Ivar, you said you text her we were coming." A man she had not noticed said. He sat across on the bench seat facing them, watching her curiously. It was now Kari noticed how both Ivar and the guy were dressed casually, both in jeans and t-shirts, though Ivar had a light jacket on also. 

 "She said she wasn't doing anything." 

 The flaxen-haired man sighed, before reaching his hand out. "Hi, I'm Hvitserk. This idiot's older brother."

 "It's nice to meet you. I'm Kari." She took his hand, but instead of shaking it like she expected, he turned it over and pressed a lingering kiss to the back of her hand. When he released it, he gave her a quick, flirty wink and leaned back in his seat. 

 Startled by his bold action, she looked at Ivar, unsure how to respond. What was with these Lothbroks and their unabashed flirting? 

 He had his eyes narrowed at his brother, teeth practically grinding. "Fucking touch her again." He snarled. 

 Hvitserk chuckled, a smug look on his boyish face. "Relax, brother. I know you don't share…. even if you're just friends." Either he was purposefully antagonizing his younger brother or did not notice the anger seething off of him. 

 Ivar started to lean forward but Kari wrapped her arms around his, pulling him into her. She was not about to watch a fight go down between the two. "Didn't you just get back from your trip? I thought you'd be home resting." She quickly asked, trying to distract. 

 After a long moment of the brothers staring at each other, Ivar with a glare and Hvitserk looking amused, the raven-haired brother leaned back. He turned his head to look at her as he answered. "You said you wanted to see me earlier, and going to see a movie isn't strenuous."

 "Everything involving you is strenuous."

 As soon as she muttered the words, she wished she could take them back. 

 A devilish grin spread across his face, those blue eyes dancing with something mischievous and forbidden. "I can show you strenuous." He shifted to hover over her, lips dangerously close to hers. "All. Night. Long." He whispered, one hand leaving a trail of fire as it slid from her thigh up to the curve of her breast. A shiver ran down her spine at the low, hungry tone and the naked want in his gaze. "You'll be begging for more of me…. to destroy that pussy and leave you completely undone and hoarse from screaming my name." His tongue flicked at her earlobe, a choked gasp leaving her mouth at the sensation. Her eyes fluttered shut on their own accord, the knot in her core tightening painfully. She both hated and loved what his touch did to her, how it gave her a taste of pleasure otherwise unknown. His nose traced her jawline as he spoke again, tone filthy, making her core ache. "You'd like that, wouldn't you, kattungen?"

 She gulped, her voice coming out far more timid and needy than she wanted. "That's...um, that's nice." 

 Hvitserk's laughter broke the smoldering tension. Her blue-green eyes blinked rapidly as if wakening from a dream, darting to stare at the older brother before returning to the one who still lingered over her, his presence alone keeping her pinned to her seat. 

 "En dag, søte Kari, blir du min." Ivar whispered into her ear, then kissed her temple tenderly. After he leaned back, legs splayed out and arms across the back of the seat. A rapid conversation in that foreign language started, Hvitserk saying something that had Ivar snarking back and rolling his eyes. 

 The whole time, Kari focused on slowing down her breathing and trying to tamper down the warmth radiating from her core. There was no denying it, Ivar did something to her on a primal level. Her body wanted him. Even her mind wanted him. When he directed that sensual, seductive side at her, she melted like an ice cube in June. Her panties were testimony to that. Thankfully, he did not turn that powerful ability onto her frequently. She doubted they would remain 'just friends' for long if he did. 

 Suddenly, Ivar tugged on the sleeve of her fleece jacket, drawing her from her thoughts. "What is that?"

 "Um… a jacket?"

 He hummed then glanced over at his brother. "Sigurd had the same one, doesn't he, Hvitty?"

 "I think so." Hvitserk ran a hand over his braids, a smile on his lips. "Didn't you set it on fire?"

 Ivar waved off the question, still scrutinizing her jacket.  "Whose is it?"

 "Mine now." She replied, wondering what he was getting at. 

 "Whose was it?"

 "A guy friend. He lent it to me years ago and I never gave it back."

 "He's in England?"

 "Yeah…"

 He grunted, rubbing a hand over his mouth for a moment. "Take it off."

 "Wha…. what?" She sputtered. 

 "Take it off. I don't want you wearing another guy's clothes."

 "Ivar, this is stupid. Plus, I always get cold in movie theaters. That's why I brought it in the first place."

 With a deep scowl, he tugged off his own gray, soft shell jacket. When he saw she was not moving, he tugged on her sleeve roughly. She huffed but gave in, not willing to fight him over something so childish. She slipped the fleece jacket off and placed it in her lap. Before she could stop him, Ivar snatched the jacket out of her lap and threw it on the seat to his other side. He dropped his jacket in her lap then leaned back, watching her with a serious expression. This was one of those times she wondered why she put up with him. Who cared where the origins of her clothes came from? It was comfy. Sure, it had some sentimental value but it was a nice, warm jacket. 

 Quickly, she slipped his gray jacket on…. and was immediately hit with his scent. A salacious side of her wondered if he would let her keep it. He always smelled incredible and having his jacket now wrapped around her, enveloping her in that…. her libido definitely woke up, begging for attention. Especially after the tease he just bestowed upon her.  

 "Happy?" She asked flippantly, smoothing the gray jacket down over her and trying not to be obvious with her sniffing it. 

 He grinned. "You look better in my clothes."

 "Ugh. Is he always like this?" She turned to Hvitserk.  

 "I wouldn't know. He's never asked me to take my clothes off. But if you did, I'd happily oblige." He playfully winked at her. 

 She groaned. "You both are unbelievable. No wonder you're brothers." She looked at Ivar beside her. "Can I have my jacket back?"

 He raised a single eyebrow as if surprised by her question. After a second of mutual staring, he slid over and opened the window, maintaining pointed eye contact the whole time. Before she could process what he was going to do, he balled up her jacket and threw it out the open window. Without a word, he rolled the window back up and slid over to her side again. 

 "What jacket?" He questioned impishly. 

 She stared open-mouthed at him. "Was…. was that really necessary? Gods! Why did you do that?" 

 "I don't want you wearing another guy's clothes." He shrugged. "If it's that big of a problem, I'll buy you some new clothes."

 "That's not…. that's not the point! You can't just get rid of something of mine without my permission!"

 "But it wasn't yours, it was some guy friend's."

 She covered my face with her hands. Why should she expect anything different from Ivar? He had a vendetta against her clothes. With a sigh, she scooted away from him. "I feel like we need to make a list of things that are not ok for you to do."

 "I'm not following some fucking list."

 "Alright, I'll stop wearing clothes that belong to someone else if you promise not to throw away my clothes without my permission."

 He yanked on her arm until she was at his side again, despite her half-hearted attempt for space. "You can wear my clothes anytime, especially if I can take them off of you."

 "Ivar, I'm serious."

 He nuzzled the crook of her neck, making her squirm. Sweetly, he pressed a kiss to her neck before leaning back. "Fine." He muttered, tucking her into his side. 

 She glanced over at Hvitserk, having momentarily forgotten his presence. A broad smile covered his face, highlighting his handsome features. 

 "I like her." He declared, meeting his brother's eye with a nod. Next he looked at her, cocking his head to the side. "What are you doing with his sorry ass?"

 That earned a low growl from the youngest Lothbrok, causing Kari to jump faintly and Hvitserk's smile to grow.

 "Well, I didn't have much of a choice. He showed up at my work the first time." She answered honestly, though she mostly did it to tease Ivar. 

 Hvitserk threw his head back with a groan before narrowing his eyes at his brother. "I told you not to stalk her!"

 "What the fuck is this? Gang up on Ivar day? She wouldn't have gone out with me otherwise and afterward she said she had fun, so it's not a big deal."

 Hvitserk's brown eyes met her blue-green ones with true sympathy in them. "I'm sorry, Kari. I would say he isn't normally like this but I'm guessing you know that's a damn lie by now."

 She giggled, "Yeah, I do. Thank you though."

 "You know, we could always ditch him and go to the movie just us."

 "Oh yeah?" She tapped her chin, pretending to think the offer over. "That sounds like fun. Ivar did promise to buy me a stupid amount of chocolate though. It'd be a hard sell to pass that offer up."

 "I'm sure I can come up with something." He wiggled his blond eyebrows, smiling again. 

 "Shut the fuck up, both of you." 

 Kari laughed at the look on Ivar's face. Peering up at him, she changed the subject. "What movie are we seeing?"

 "Ask your new friend over there."

 "Come on, Ivy. You know we're just fucking with you." Hvitserk sighed.  

 Ivar grumbled, looking out the window and ignoring both of them.

 Hvitserk answered her question. "That new horror movie."

 "Oh ok." She hoped she sounded confident but kind of wished she had known before coming. Horror movies were not her thing. As a child, she had watched 'IT' at a sleepover and decided then that purposefully being scared was something she could do without. Though knowing Ivar, he would have laughed and pushed her out the door, saying something about how she needed to watch better shit than she normally did. Maybe this one would be more action-based than real horror. She could only hope. 

 Thankfully, they pulled up at the movie theater soon after. The driver dropped the three off at the door, driving off after to go park and wait. 

 "Ivar, hold on." She tugged on his arm, forcing him to slow his steps instead of walking ahead of the other two. "Give us a minute, Hvitserk."

 The blond brother gave her a quick nod. "I'll go buy some snacks."

 After he walked away, she tried to meet Ivar's gaze, though he pointedly stared over her shoulder. "Hey, we're just teasing. I'm sorry if we pushed it too far. I'm really happy you asked me to come out with you and your brother. It's been years since I've gone out to the movies."

 He remained stubbornly sullen, continuing to stare just over her shoulder as if her presence was a nuisance. 

 With a sigh, she shifted closer, taking the initiative to wrap her arms loosely around his waist. Something she had noticed during the times they had hung out was he liked touching her, not always sexually, but just casual, intimate touches. A stray thought of him being touch-starved crossed her mind. 

 "I also really like your jacket, it's soft and it smells like you." She softly said, peeking up at him, suddenly nervous about her forwardness. 

 "Yeah?" He breathed out, placing his arms around her and tugging her closer. In just that movement, she could feel the hostility drain out of him, the hard tension in his muscles easing away into a softness she was beginning to doubt many people were allowed to see. 

 "Since you threw my other one away, can I keep this one?" She teased, lips curling up at the edges. If he said no, she was inclined to steal it anyway. For emotional damages, of course, not because it smelled good. 

 "Fuck, yes, kitten." He nuzzled her neck, making her squirm in his arms and giggle at the sensation. After a moment, still chuckling, he kissed her neck then laid his forehead against hers. When he spoke, it was with a quiet hint of vulnerability, his voice just above a murmur. "You really are happy to be out with me?"

 "I am." She confirmed with eyes closed, soaking in the heat from his body against hers. This moment felt so strangely intimate that she struggled between prolonging it or tearing herself away. It was in these touches, she found her resolve wavering, a longing rising within her to give in. His arms around her, just holding her, their foreheads pressed together as if grounding one another. It was euphoric and dangerous. 

 He broke the silence between them, tone muffled as if regretting speaking up. "We should go in; the movie is going to start soon."

 "Ok. Hvitserk will probably come looking for us if we don't." 

 "Ah, fuck. He will." 

 They untangled, but as she moved to step away, he snaked his arm around her waist, tugging her next to him. When she glanced up at him, he only looked down at her in wide-eyed, mock innocence. She rolled her eyes but giggled. He was like a puppy afraid to let go of his new toy. 

 As they started towards the doors, she finally paid more attention to his gait. Each step was stiff but powerful. One more than one occasion she ogled him and his swagger that seemed to scream predator, a dark and deadly thing meanwhile also being so enticing. She wondered how he managed so well without his cane but decided not to bring it up.

 Once they passed through the door, Ivar slowed down, pulling his phone from his pocket. 

 "Shit. I've got to take this. Go wait with Hvitty. Oh, here." He pulled out his wallet and handed her his credit card. "Go buy all that chocolate I promised you and drinks for us."

 Normally she would protest, saying she could buy her own stuff. This time she had full intentions of spending his money on chocolate. "Do you want anything to eat?" 

 "Are you on the menu?"

 "Gods, unbelievable!" She laughed though, watching him smile genuinely. After an arrogant wink, he stepped away, bringing his phone to his ear and speaking rapidly in a foreign language. She scurried over to Hvitserk, who stood near the confessions counter. 

 "Everything alright?" 

 "Yeah," she glanced over her shoulder at Ivar quickly, "he just got a phone call he said he had to take."

 Hvitserk hummed, watching Ivar across the lobby with a peculiar expression. 

 While they waited, she ordered her snacks and the drinks for both of them. Though her doubts rapidly spun out of control as she realized she did not know what Ivar would like or want. With a pleading look thrown at him, Hvitserk gave in with a chuckle. Together they picked out snacks and drinks that would have the youngest Lothbrok's approval. Once done, they gathered their stuff and moved over to an open, standing table to continue waiting. 

 "While Ivar is busy, I wanted to talk to you."

 "Ah, sure." She felt a tendril of dread grow in her belly. Nothing good ever came out of a conversation with such an inauspicious beginning. 

 "I know Ivar can be a lot, closer to fucking insane, and not many people can tolerate him." He looked down at her with brown eyes that seemed to see more than they let on. "But you're good for him. You don't take his bullshit. Fuck, he even listens to you. I could count on one hand how many people Ivar actually listens to. What makes you different?"

 "I don't know. I'm just…. I don't know." She stared down at her chipped, teal fingernails, unable to meet his eyes now. 

 "Well whatever you are, we've already noticed a difference since you two started talking. He's not as angry, he doesn't just hole up in his room as often."

 "That's good."

 "Mmmm…. Ivar is my brother and I love him. But I also know his temper can get the better of him and when he is on a rampage, nothing can fucking stop him. He is easily jealous and possessive of things he deems his own…. and he clearly had staked a claim on you."

 "But…. we're just friends."

 "Not to him." He huffed, running a hand over his braids. After checking to make sure his brother was still on the phone, he continued, lowering his voice even more. "You seem like a nice girl so I'll only say this once. Be careful of what promises you make to him…. and if he ever does something to harm you or scare you, I want you to call me. I'll do what I can to protect you. Alright?"

 She nodded, unnerved by his warning. Sure, she knew about the Lothbrok reputation. Yet this was the first time someone point blank warned her with true understanding. She was unsure if she should appreciate the warning or be terrified that he thought Ivar could hurt her. 

 "Give me your phone."

 Silently, she handed it over. He plugged his number in and called himself. With a satisfied nod, he gave it back to her. 

 "Good, don't ever hesitate to call me. Besides, if my brother has his way, none of us would ever meet you. My other brothers want to meet the girl who has Ivar wrapped around her finger already." He winked at her, making her blush. 

 "Hvitty, stop flirting with her!" 

 The flaxen-haired brother grinned, as he watched his brother approach. "I'm not. Just telling her the others want to meet her."

 "Fuck no." Ivar growled, coming to stand between the two. 

 "I'd love to meet your brothers." She commented lightly. "After hearing you talk about them, it'd be nice."

 "Awww, Ivy, you talk about us?" Hvitserk teased, nudged his shoulder with his own. 

 "Not you, asshole."

 Hvitserk laughed, pressing his forehead swiftly to Ivar's. "Come on, the movie has probably started."

 Ivar and Kari followed behind Hvitserk, as he led them to the correct auditorium. Along the way, she handed Ivar a couple of the boxes of candy she bought and the drink picked out for him. 

 "How much fucking candy did you buy?" He grumbled, eyeing the boxes suspiciously. 

 "Enough. If you ask nicely, I might share." She quipped. "I even bought Heksehyl for both of us. Hvitserk said it's your favorite…. and I also got Dumle. Oh, and Guld Barre!" 

 "I did promise you chocolate."

 She giggled. "Yes, you did."

 The three of them found the auditorium and took seats off to the side. Ivar sat in the middle with Kari on his right and Hvitserk on his left. The movie had just started as they sat down, the lights and noise minimal. Though apprehensive about the movie, Kari found herself smiling at just the nostalgic feeling being here evoked. There was something so simple yet profound at being with friends, eating sweets and watching the silver screen. Let alone the darkness of the theater and the nearby munching of popcorn by others and the occasion sound of people talking. She missed this. So, she endowed to enjoy every part of this. Quietly eating her chocolates, she kept her gaze on the screen.

 After some time, Kari felt a large hand on her upper thigh, inching slowly higher and higher. Jolting at the sudden feeling, she grabbed it, trying to stop its further ascent. Immediately, Ivar flipped his hand over and entwined their fingers. She tried to half-heartedly tug out of it, but he maintained a vice-like grip on her hand. In an attempt to glare at him, she swiveled in her seat to gain his attention. Only for him to remain solely focused on the screen. Rolling her eyes, she gave in, shifting back to continue watching the movie. Their fingers remained entangled. 

 Eventually, the chocolate lay forgotten in her lap as the images on the screen became more disturbing and graphic. A few chuckles came from Ivar and Hvitserk and whispered comments made between them. Once someone in the theater screamed as a person on the screen was suddenly killed. The abrupt sound made Kari jump, squeezing Ivar's hand. He laughed, but squeezed her hand back. Not long after, she gave up on watching the movie and just tucked her face against his shoulder. Horror movies were never her thing, the idea of purposefully being scared never appealed to her. And this movie had a thing for people being eaten alive. Not something she wanted imprinted into her brain. The thought crossed her mind that Ivar orchestrated this on purpose, since he seemed to be fully enjoying her cuddling into him. As if without concern, his head lay on top of hers, continuing to hold her hand. If she was not so concerned about having nightmares and trying to block out the hair-raising screams, she might have liked the cuddling. In this instance though, if he moved, she was going to punch him. 

 Once the movie ended, Ivar and Hvitserk argued about the movie- how some of the people should have died or about the graphics of the terrifying creatures. They both became more and more animated as the three of them walked out of the movie theater and towards the waiting SUV. 

 "What did you think, Kari?" Hvitserk asked, taking his seat across from the others, once they all piled in. 

 "She was scared." Ivar answered, leaning back, his arm on the back of the seat and behind her. 

 "That creature was eating that girl's brain while she was still alive! I did not want to see that! I'm going to have nightmares."

 Smirking, Ivar tilted closer, invading her personal space. "Want me to stay with you? I'll keep you safe…. and make sure you dream of other more, pleasurable, things."

 "No, you'd probably try to scare me on purpose." She accused, pushing his body away from her with a pout. 

 "Well, thanks for seeing it with us." Hvitserk spoke up. "Gods, Bjorn would love it. We'll have to tell him."

 The youngest brother nodded before turning back to the brunette by his side. "You coming out with us for drinks now? We always get drinks after."

 "No, I can't. I have to open tomorrow. I need to sleep."

 "Come on, it'll be fine."

 "No. I'll be getting up at 5:30. That's in like…. six hours." This was one thing she was not going to give into. He had dragged her from her bed already once tonight. He was not about to make her lose out on anymore sleep. Not everyone was able to sleep all morning like certain people. 

 "Next time," Hvitserk said with a shrug, a grin on his face as if amused by the interaction across from him. "I'm sure we can all go out again soon. Right, Ivy?"

 Ivar snorted, "Fine. We'll drop you off."

 A discussion about the movie and comparing it to others swiftly captured the two brothers' attention. Finding herself growing tired, Kari just leaned back and listened, her head resting on the back of the seat, and consequently, Ivar's arm. It was different and refreshing seeing him interact with someone he clearly trusted and cared about. His guard was down and even if some of his comments sounded more like sharp barbs, it was said without true malice. The flaxen-haired brother took each verbal jab like water off a duck's back, either making a joke out of the comment or ignoring it. Throughout the interaction, the care and respect for one another was evident, even if on the surface level it appeared dysfunctional. A smile hinted on her lips as she listened to the brothers. She hoped this was not the last time she spent time with Hvitserk. Though his warning still rang in the back of her mind, she liked him. The whole ride back, Ivar kept his arm behind her, sporadically playing with the ends of her hair. 

 At their arrival to her townhouse, Hvitserk said his goodbye to her in the vehicle, surprising her with a swift hug and peck on the cheek. Her face must have been quite flushed if his laughter after meant anything. Ivar grumbled something at his brother in their foreign language as he pulled her out of the SUV. To her further surprise, Ivar walked her to her front door instead of staying with his brother. 

 "Thanks for inviting me out." She said honestly, once they reached the door. 

 "Next time we'll watch something you enjoy."

 Before she could second guess herself, she stepped closer and wrapped her arms around him. Instantly, his arms went around her, pulling her closer. While the hug at the movie theater was sweet and intimate, this hug carried a different tone. It was more urgent and passionate. Her face rested on his collarbone, allowing his scent to envelope her. He laid a soft kiss to the top of her head, resting his chin there after. For a split second, she realized she never wanted to leave this moment. To be safe and warm and comforted and wanted. It was all she had ever hoped for. This was dangerous water they treaded in. With each intimate action, she could feel their friendship sailing closer and closer to the waters of something more. The gentle, easy waters of friendship would not be enough to maintain them. 

 With that thought in mind, she regretfully pulled back. "Goodnight." She murmured. 

 "God natt, kattunge."

 "One of these days, you have to tell me what you're saying."

 A devious smirk grew on his lips. "No, I think I like you being in suspense."

 She laughed, shaking her head. They both hesitated to move, the air tense with something, as if both were waiting for the other to say or do something. 

 "Ok, bye." She finally said, opening her front door. 

 He nodded, taking a step back without removing his heated gaze off of her. 

 Shuddering at the feeling of his smoldering gaze, she let herself into the townhouse and made sure to lock the door behind her. Releasing a deep breath, she leaned her back against the door. What was it about him that tempted her so? He was bad news for her. Yet the more time she spent with him, the more she craved being with him. 

 Glancing down, she stared at his soft, gray jacket she still wore and wondered how symbolic this unintended action was.

[the-killer-queenie]

Good Impression (Tommi Lalli x reader)

Inspired by this video and by suggestions of a couple of anons, I presented you all this Tommi/reader fic

Words: 1438

English is not my native language so sorry for the mistakes/typos you might found.

Note: for the sake of the story, let’s pretend Tommi lives in Helsinki and not in Oulu.

Hope y'all enjoy it!☺️

Tommi’s parents have invited you to spend the weekend at their house since it was going to be Tommi’s grandma's birthday and there would be a family reunion to celebrate it back in Oulu.

You hadn’t really ever left Helsinki or its surroundings, your work and studies tying you to the capital, so you were pretty excited to have this mini road trip all the way up to Tommi’s natal city and to get to know his family. It wasn’t exactly a “meet the parents” situation, since you’ve already met them one time when they were in the city visiting Tommi. So you weren’t extremely nervous although the usual bad scenarios popped up in your mind from time to time.

The night before leaving, you were sitting on the floor of your shared bedroom, still trying to pack your bag. Tommi was on his phone, already laying in bed, since you planned on leaving early in the morning.

“Babe, which blouse should I take, this green one or the black one?” you asked, showing both options to him.

“I’d much prefer you without one,” Tommi said without looking up from his phone.

“Always the tease,” you said as you decided on one of them and put it on your bag.

“Remember it’s only a weekend though and it won’t be that fancy of an event…”

“I know, but I just want to make sure I leave a good impression,” you replied as you closed your bag, deciding you already had everything you’ll need for the weekend.

Having finished packing, you crawled into bed next to Tommi, who left his phone on the nightstand and wrapped his arm around you.

“There’s no way you won’t be leaving nothing but a good impression, prinsessa” Tommi whispered in your ear as you drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, you woke up to an empty space next to you and to sounds coming from the kitchen. Someone was not wasting any time. After having some quick breakfast Tommi had prepared and loading your bags in the trunk of the car, you were ready to leave.

“Ready kulta?” Tommi asked as he put his sunglasses on.

“Ready Tommi-bear.” you answered as you opened the music app on your phone. You have spent the week prior crafting a playlist to blast through the road trip. It had some of yours and Tommi’s favourite songs plus some duet worthy songs, since you weren’t oblivious of the fact that Tommi had a beautiful voice. So of course you didn’t waste any chance you got of hearing it.

“Ok, here we go,” he said as you pressed shuffle on the playlist.

The first song that came through the car’s speakers was Dancing Queen by ABBA. Tommi chuckled. “I thought you made the playlist, not Aleksi,” he ironically said, commenting on how the dark haired DJ plays that song on concerts, soundchecks and pretty much whenever he gets the chance.

“Hey, it’s a good song.” you said and started singing along. Tommi smiled and eventually joined in.

After a couple of duets passed by, you suddenly shut up, leaving Tommi singing on his own. He didn’t realise it wasn’t a duet anymore until a couple of minutes later, when he turned his sight from the road to you, who were softly smiling at him.

“What?” Tommi asked, and you could swear he slightly blushed.

“You should sing more often, you know?”

“Oh shut up,”

“I really mean it! Maybe I should text Niko or Joel…”

You told him how his voice was really lovely and soothing but he just brushed it off, although you could see a little smirk growing on his face.

The ride went really well and smoothly. You both chatted about everything and nothing, music playing on the back as you made sure to get some chill songs besides the karaoke worthy ones.

Since Tommi had made the road countless times, mostly because of Blind Channel gigs, he recounted some funny stories with the boys as some places you were driving though made him remember about them. Of course, the anecdotes were nothing but pure Blind Channel chaos which had you laughing up to the point of crying.

Speaking of Blind Channel, you had thrown into the mix one or two of their songs so when they came into the shuffle, you headbanged like there wasn’t a tomorrow and randomly played air drums, trying to copy Tommi’s moves when on stage, which made him laugh out loud.

“Maybe I could give you some drum lessons when we go back,” he said while tapping his fingers to the beat of the song.

You bit your lip. The image of you sitting on his lap while giving you drum lessons presented you with thousands of thoughts that you decided to keep for yourself, at least until you got back to your apartment back in Helsinki.

As you were getting closer to Oulu, you asked Tommi who he thought would be at his grandma’s party. Tommi started listing an incredible number of people, describing them and telling how they were related. Basically giving you a sort of brief of his family. But as the list grew, your nerves too started to rise up.

You passed through a sign telling you were now entering Oulu and you became quieter and started mindlessly tapping your foot. Tommi noticed the sudden change of the atmosphere.

“Hey, you’re gonna make a hole on the car’s floor if you keep with the tapping,” he said, trying to bring up the lively spirit again.

You giggle and stop with the tapping, but remained silent while looking at the passing scenery through the window.

“Nervous?” Tommi asked.

“Yeah, I guess... I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m really excited to meet your family but at the same time there’s this voice in my head sort of panicking and questioning ``what if they don’t like me?´´” you confessed to him.

“Well, then I guess I’ll have to cut ties with them if they don’t like you,” he replied with a straight face.

You gave Tommi a playful punch on his arm.

“No, but in all seriousness, I can’t think of a simple reason they won’t like you. You know, I haven’t told you this but my parents didn’t do anything but praise you after meeting you. And I’m sure they already passed on their stamp of approval to the rest of the family,” he reassured you.

Tommi’s words comforted you and made you relax a little. You turned up the music and tried to enjoy the last couple of kilometres you got left of the trip.

You finally arrived at Tommi’s parents house, who were waiting for you on the porch. They greeted you both and asked how the trip was. But before you could answer, an old lady came out of the house, calling Tommi’s name. It was his grandmother. You recognized her from some family photos Tommi had shown you ahead of the trip. She made her way up to where you were all standing and you couldn’t help but melt at the sight of the height difference between her and Tommi when she went for a hug.

“So you’re the young lady that stole my Tommi,” the woman said as she turned around to look at you. You gulped, not sure if she was being serious or just messing with you. She must have seen the panic in your face as she clarified with a laugh, “I’m only joking. For what I see, he’s actually the lucky one,” she said with a warm smile. You blushed at the woman’s words and thanked her while allowing yourself to loosen up a little.

Tommi’s mum invited you to come into the house, since she had prepared something for both of you to eat after the long journey. As Tommi took out your bags from the car, the old lady intertwined her arm with yours and slowly began walking towards the house.

“Now, we have many things to chat about that grandson of mine. Like, have you noticed his nose…” she started saying, lowering her voice as if it were a confidence only you were allowed to hear.

“Ei, mummo, not again…” Tommi groaned, interrupting her while escorting both of you on the way into the house.

You just giggled and continued to listen to the old lady’s complaints of his grandson's features. You might disagree with her on that but as you start approaching the house, you started to feel at ease and though to yourself that it will be a fun weekend.

Ei, mummo = No, grandma (thanks duolingo)

yeah, sorry if the end sucked but I really wanted to make the reference to the q&a video.