#he was very patient and did not grab at the croissant just stared at it with wonder

[inkyindigo]

went to visit the in-laws for easter and hung out with my favorite chonky baby nephew-in-law, who only paused in his wild toddles around the room to stare at my croissant

his mom: just a little bit

me: just a little bit

baby: jus lil bit

[starsstruck]

strange phenomena; part one.

what happens when we meet again? you and harry have barely seen each other in almost a year. two ex-lovers find themselves in the same snowy town by strange chance, both looking for something they can’t seem to figure out. cafe run-ins, old love letters, and bittersweet nostalgia. 

pairing: harry x reader warnings: language, slight mention of sexual content words: 13.3k

series masterlist

an: thank you for being patient with me. this is just a little story from my little heart shaped brain. thank you to @sunflowers-styles​ for beta-ing and being supportive and the overall best 💌 i hope everyone enjoys and please do let me know what you think ! happy reading xoxo 💌

There was something unsettling about not having a schedule.

Your entire life, you had been told that you weren't supposed to  quit a job without having another one already lined up, and you had been able to keep up with that. Until now.

The impulse to leave the office that left you frustrated, tired, and overworked had been bubbling up inside of you for years, and it was only a mere couple months ago that you finally snapped.

Snapped, grabbed your things, and quite literally ran away. Call it a life crisis, maybe considered somewhere between a quarter and a mid, but there was something about simply leaving everything behind that took a temporary weight off your shoulders.

Which is how you ended up in a little town in eastern France, staring out the window of the café where you sat and watched the snowfall that had just picked up again.

There was an emptied mug on your side, crumbs of a delicious pastry sitting on a plate, and a blank page in your worn notebook. You had everything you needed to work: your favourite playlist softly playing in your ears so you wouldn’t get too distracted by conversations around you, not one but two notebooks filled with a year's worth of thoughts, and warm clothes that wouldn’t leave you with indents in your skin after sitting for too long.

But apparently that didn’t necessarily mean that you would be making much progress. 

Five days since you had gotten to Annecy. A friend of yours had moved out to the old tourist town a number of years ago after meeting her partner, and they were nice enough to let you stay with them. Five days of trying to work and still no progress.

You had daydreams of sitting down, words easily flowing as you would fill pages until the sun set. But it was only five days, a little leeway was okay, wasn’t it?

That idea of a bit of little leeway, however, was constantly being bullied by the big label of unemployed. You knew very well, soon the need for a job would be coming back and all those daydreams would have to go back on a hiatus.

But here on the fifth day, after picking at the crumbs of your long gone croissant, you decided to pack up your things and call it a day. That was the one thing you were able to do – tell yourself that today nothing would be done and that was okay, instead of spending the rest of the hours until midnight forcing yourself to do something.

So you buttoned up your wool coat, wrapped on your scarf and stepped out into the light snow to trudge back to your temporary housing.

Harry had seen you the second time you were there.

You were a creature of habit - just as he was apparently so - and you seemed to always return to the same café, the small but warm La buvette du marché, tucked away in the old town.

He nearly fell over his feet when he saw you sitting in the corner, earbuds in and eyebrows furrowed so deeply he could see the creases in your skin, even from the distance he stood away from you.

He left in a hurry, in a panic. He told himself that he had likely imagined it, maybe he was still jet-lagged, maybe his mind was tricking him, maybe it was some odd lucid dream during an afternoon nap.

But then he saw you again, on the fifth day as you packed up your things in a huff and hugged your coat tighter around your chest. You looked too wrapped up in your own thoughts to even notice anyone else around you, except for the quick smile that you shot to the older woman behind the counter before you were walking out into the darkening street.

Harry couldn’t help but slightly spiral a bit more. He tried to recall any mention from remaining mutual friends, or even acquaintances, about you coming here, but couldn’t remember. He even considered calling some, but decided against it in a quick grounding moment when he realized that it would seem far too odd.

Even more so, he couldn’t believe that you found yourself in the small town at the same time as him. In the same place. At the same time.

It was all too familiar.

He took that as a good sign.

The seventh day – now a week in – you were back at the café.

This time you had managed to scribble down some ideas. Last night you had barely slept, tossing and turning as you tried to force your brain to come up with something, anything.

Just as it always went, as you were falling asleep it seemed like you had an idea going but unconsciousness soon took over and you were left with bits and pieces to pick up.

Today, you hadn’t gotten something to eat right away and instead told yourself that once you got a good chunk of work done, you would treat yourself to something sweet and a little break.

Harry, by not so much of a coincidence, was also back.

He liked the small town of Annecy, winter was a bit of an off season no matter its proximity to the Alps, and it was lowkey enough to where he could easily keep a low profile and go as he pleased.

He walked over to the same café in the late afternoon, hoping that maybe maybe you would already be there. It was making him nervous. But maybe you wouldn’t be there, and that would stress him out even more because maybe this was all a dream?

But there you were, twirling a black pen between your fingertips as you subconsciously chewed at the inside of your lip. He could tell by the way your chin was slightly protruding, and the way your lips moved lightly. He almost hated himself for being able to notice such a thing.

This time, you were the one to look up at him.

And lucky for him, or maybe unlucky he wasn’t sure yet, he was already staring back at you.

He could see a flurry of thoughts filter through your eyes. Your eyebrows unknotted for a moment, before furrowing even tighter this time with your mouth slightly parting and then closing.

He tried to smile, finding himself shuffling closer to you as he tried to recall how to use his feet and his voice. Calming down just the slightest bit when you offered him a tiny wave, he took that as all he needed to keep walking the path that led to your table.

And then he was standing a mere few feet in front of you.

When you spoke, it made it all that more real for Harry.

Obviously, you were physically there in front of him, something he couldn’t have imagined happening to him now, but the quiet “hi” that escaped past your lips made blood rush to his ears.

He cleared his throat – he didn’t really need to, he just felt he could use the extra second – before repeating the greeting back to you. “Hey…”

You couldn’t break his gaze. Seeing – and hearing – the hesitation in him, you almost wanted to tell him to leave you alone and try and forget this had ever happened. Maybe leave for some place else.

But you really didn’t want to do that.

“What,” the word was a puff of air. He felt out of breath. “What are you doing here?”

What were you doing here?

“Working,” was all you said, wincing slightly at the way the statement sounded. You felt like your heart was about to explode, like all words seemed to escape you and that the floor was about to crack open and swallow you up.

He only stared at you.

You sat up straighter, lifting a hand from where it was resting on the table to motion to the empty chair across from you. “You can have a seat – if you’d like.”

It was like he was on a three second lag, staring at you for a moment too long before reacting to your words. With a quick nod, he sat himself down across from you, bag falling to the floor near where yours was. He kept his coat on.

“Nellie’s really letting you work from here?”

You didn’t miss the slight pettiness of his words.

Shaking your head, you decided to ignore it and instead rolled your lips into your mouth before glancing back up at him. “No, I uh – I quit.”

His eyebrows shot up so quickly, the sudden change in his expression nearly made you flinch. He quietly kept his eyes on you for a moment longer, as if you were about to tell him that you were joking.

“You did?” He finally said, and if you paid close attention, which of course you were, you could see a little quirk in his lips. “You really quit?”

Unable to help the small chuckle that left your mouth at his reaction, you felt the beginnings of a smile pulling at your lips. “Yeah,” you said softly. “I did.”

A smile was pulling at Harry’s mouth as well – you could tell that he was trying hard not to with the way his lips slightly pursed and he bit them together. But he couldn’t help it.

“Well,” he cleared his throat once more and leaned back in his chair, making himself more comfortable. “Good for you.”

Another silence came over the two of you. Your right hand was pinching the skin of your thigh through your trousers to ground yourself, to remind yourself that Harry was really sitting here in front of you. Out of anywhere he could be.

Everything about him was so familiar. You recognized his coat, the dark green that you knew was so warm to be wrapped up in. His hair looked longer since the last time he was in front of you, but it also sat slightly messy and unstyled over his head. He was nervously twisting the few rings on his fingers – most of his fingers were bare which was something you hadn’t seen in a while.

Even the way he watched you, his steady stare that seemed to speak to you without needing to say any words, left you to be speechless. 

Of course, you had thought about this moment over in your head countless times.

You fantasized about him showing up at your door, late at night and begging you to talk to him. You thought about running into him when you were out for errands, and would ignore him altogether. You thought about him calling you or what would happen if you called him, what you would talk about and everything he’d tell you. You had dreamt of everything that could possibly happen, but now you sat frozen.

“So uh,” Harry’s voice broke you out of your reverie. “If you quit, where aboust are you working now?”

You bit your lips together. “I’m not…working anywhere. Working for myself, I guess.”

He gave you a surprised look once more. “Writing?”

You only nodded, unable to help the smile that was building on your mouth. And Harry couldn’t help but mirror it.

He took a moment to take you in, closer this time. You were dressed warmly, a thick purple sweater hanging off your shoulders that hit fairly low on your hips, over loose black trousers. The lavender made you glow – he decided it was his new favourite colour on you.

You had a different pendant hanging off your neck, and he could see a second chain hidden beneath the collar of your sweater. A series of pens were in front of you, and he knew that you had been toying with them based on how they were haphazardly thrown over the tabletop. You kept slipping in your bottom lip between your teeth, something he couldn’t help but watch as every time it brought his attention back to your mouth.

He shouldn’t be thinking about your mouth.

“That’s great to hear,” he nodded after another moment too long in silence. “I mean, you know I’ve said this before so I’m not going to say it again but –” he cut himself off, already finding himself rambling. “It’s good. I’m glad that you’re doing it.”

You chuckled again, and he felt himself melt a bit deeper into the chair across from you. “I’ve really barely started but. Thank you, Harry.”

It was the first time he’d heard you say his name in so long. He liked hearing it, he missed hearing it.

“’Course,” was all he said. “I’m happy to hear that you’re writing.”

Another silence when you simply nodded.

“Why did you come here?” He spoke softly, the somewhat elephant in the room getting aired as you briefly averted his gaze.

“Wanted to get away,” you said honestly. “And Eloise offered for me to live with her for a bit, so it was an easy decision.”

“Easy,” he mused, repeating the word as he momentarily pulled at the sleeves of his sweater. “Taking some time to relax?”

“Something like that,” you paused, thinking of how to ask him the same thing. “How about you – are you passing through or…?”

He lightly shook his head, drumming his fingertips over his thigh. “I’m here for some time.”

“Oh,” you closed the notebook in front of you, leaning your forearm over it. You opened your mouth to say something else, but you seemed to not remember how to form words. He jumped back in.

“I’m here writing as well actually – or trying to.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Album?”

“Yeah,” he rubbed his hand over the back of his neck, leaning forward in the chair again to rest his forearms over the tabletop, similar position that you were sitting in as you both lent forward. “Been trying to get it done for far too long now.”

You remembered – you remembered in your last weeks together his frustration over his inability to be happy with what he was creating for his third album. You held your lips closed with your teeth for a moment, unsure of which thread to follow. He continued once again after you didn’t say anything.

“I’m here alone,” he paused. “Staying in a small place just outside of town.”

You couldn’t help the quiet scoff. “You’re never alone.”

He laughed to himself. “I am this time.”

You both felt like you were circling around the same thing. You were the first one to voice it. “So you decided to come… here. To Annecy.”

He looked at you dead in the eyes, as if challenging you. “Yeah, I did.”

Another silence fell, this one seeming to be heavier than all the other one’s combined.

“It was –” Harry finally broke the silence after what seemed like ten minutes. You wished your brain was working at the moment. “It’s really nice seeing you.”

You gave him a gentle smile. “You too.”

He tucked his feet under his chair, ready to push back from the table and stand. He was ready to leave the café, think about this moment every hour of the days to come until he managed to let it go. If that’s what you wanted.

But you didn’t.

“I’ll leave you to it. I don’t want to keep you from your work for too long,” he sounded nearly remorseful as he blindly reached for his bag at the floor, not wanting to look away from you.

“Wait –” you said way too quickly, but you didn’t care. “Stay – if you want.”

He paused every movement he was making, glancing up at you with a growing grin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, familiar warm feeling spreading through your chest when his expression eased. “We barely caught up.”

Harry slowly leant back into the chair, nodding with a hint of a smile playing at his lips. “Okay – I’d like that.”

He unzipped his jacket then, resting it on the back of his chair and pushed the sleeves of his sweater up over his elbows. Leaning forward again, this time not to stand but to take a peek at the mug sitting in front of you.

“Did you want another?”

“Still working on this one,” you smiled in thanks, grabbing the cup with the lukewarm coffee to take a little sip.

Harry quickly had his own coffee in front of him, clutching the little mug in his hands as if it would act as some kind of buffer between the two of you.

“I hope you stormed out of that office,” he told you, after once more asking if you had seriously quit your job.

“Wasn’t that dramatic, unfortunately,” you laughed, also wishing that you had the guts to cause a scene and walk out of work. “I gave my notice, had a very civil last chat with Nellie and that was really it. Can’t really afford to burn any bridges.”

Harry didn’t want to comment too much on your recent unemployment, the emotionally exhausting nature of your previous job being a hot topic of conversation when the two of you had been together. He decided it was best to bring up at a later time, if he had the opportunity that is.

“What are you working on now, then?”

You mindlessly picked up a forgotten pen, twirling it between your index and middle finger a few times before letting it fall back down. “What I’ve always said I would.”

“Book?”

You shrugged, not wanting to think about the implications too much. “Something like that.” 

He wanted to ask you about it further, but you easily changed the subject. “How long have you been here then?” 

“Just over a week now,” he took another sip of his coffee. “And you?” 

“A week,” you tried your hardest to stop the way your lips started to curve upwards, at the fact that you had both come around the same time. He seemed to be thinking the same thing, as a little nervous chuckle escaped his mouth. “How is the album coming?” 

His laughter died down. “Not well,” he said honestly. “Nothing really since…” Nothing really since we were last together. 

You nodded, knowing what he was about to say. “Keeping myself busy - I was actually filming for a movie the last few months.” 

“I read that,” you nodded, not realizing you were admitting to slightly keeping up with what your ex was up to. 

Another silence came across the two of you when you both took big sips of your drinks, you finished off the rest of the now cold coffee that had completely lost its charm. 

“You look good,” your voice came out a little quieter. “Rested.” 

You swear you saw a little pink hit his cheeks. “Thank you,” he hummed in response, having a thousand compliments ready for you but none of them found their way past his lips. “Are you allowed to tell me I look good?”

It was a cheap shot, but he took it.

You paused, a small smile pulling at your mouth. “Friends can compliment each other, no?” 

Friends. 

“Of course,” he hid his expression behind the mug that he raised to his mouth. “In that case - you look good - incredible even.” 

He added the second part on a whim, still staring you down as you refused to break his gaze, never one to back down from a subtle staring contest. 

A small sliver of silence passed, before Harry cleared his throat. 

“I hope I’m not keeping you,” he murmured, watching your hands fiddle with the pens that rested more or less untouched on the surface of the table.

“You’re not,” you shook your head. “I’ve barely gotten anything done either way. If anything, I’m distracting you.”

Harry bit his lips together. He was never one to complain about how much you distracted him. “You’re always a welcomed distraction,” he leant his forearms further over the table. “Not so much progress here either.”

“I have a hard time believing that,” you laughed lightly when Harry raised his eyebrows, giving you an incredulous look. “You were constantly writing. Never met anyone with so many filled notebooks.”

“I guess but I – I couldn’t make anything out of it, you know? I don’t know if you remember,” he glanced up as you gave him a little nod. How could you forget about any moment spent together. 

“Still feel just as stuck.” His brows knotted, staring at the table for a few seconds before glancing back up at you. “Sorry, for unloading this on you.”

“No, no it’s okay,” you offered him a sympathetic smile. “It’s okay if it takes you a little longer – if it takes a few tries.”

He forgot how much comfort he could get from your smile. “Thank you,” he murmured. “Feels like I’ve exhausted everything – like there are no words left for me to write.”

You couldn’t help what you said next. You didn’t mean to make it about yourself, you didn’t mean to even say what you did. You simply could not help it.

“Ever write about me?”

Harry stared at you for a few seconds. “You seriously…” he trailed off, eyes slightly wide on you. You had an apology ready on the tip of your tongue when he spoke again. “Filled countless books about you.”

You knew he wrote to you, leaving you little love notes or poems in your home or hidden amongst your things for you to find. Sometimes romantic, sometimes a little more explicit. But for whatever reason, you never imagined him writing a song about you.

He kept speaking in your silence. “You can’t be that humble – you can’t believe that I would never even think about writing about you.”

You didn’t know what to say. “I guess …I don’t know.”

Maybe you had been more successful that you’d thought in pushing memories of him away.

“To be honest, I uh,” now he was the one finding himself at a loss of what to say. “I didn’t want to put out something that was so personally about you. Wanted to keep you to myself.”

He lifted his eyes from the table, meeting yours before quietly murmuring. “Still do.”

A thick silence settled this time. You watched every small twitch in his demeanor – the quick bite of his lip, the bob of his Adam’s apple, the way his eyes flicked around your face just as you were sure yours were doing right now.

And they were, he was analyzing you, making new notes of your every feature that he could see for the thousandth time. He finally broke the silence, his voice sounding so loud all of the sudden.

“Come see what I have written.”

It was less of a question. Whether showing you old writing was really the only intention of the invitation was lost on you - and on Harry as well -  but neither pondered on it too much.  

You hadn’t said anything right away, but he was already reaching back to grab his jacket that was resting over the back of the chair. Slowly, you mirrored his actions and quickly began to pack up the pens and journal that had sat untouched for a good part of an hour.

Once you both stood wrapped in your coats and scarfs, with bags pulled over your shoulders, he met your gaze once more. “You coming?”

“Yeah,” you offered him a tentative smile. You realized you were nervous. Sitting with him in a public café was one thing, but spending time with him alone? That was something completely different that you weren’t sure you were prepared for. “Are we walking?”

“If that’s alright,” Harry nodded. “Staying just up the hill.”

And then you were off, following him in the thickening coat of snow that covered the yet to be plowed streets. Walking side by side at a safe distance, the falling snow hit you from every angle as the wind seemed to be starting to pick up.

Hugging your arms around your chest, you walked in silence for most of the trip.

At one point you were trying to move out of the way for a group of young school kids that were walking by, speaking far too fast for you to catch any words of their french as they excitedly bounced through the snow. Your foot caught on a lift of the sidewalk that was buried under the snow, giving you a momentary loss of balance.

Harry, however, was quick to notice. He had his arm looping through yours before you even realized you were tripping, as he held you upright and close against his side.

He knew that you were watching him, he could feel your eyes burn into the side of his face but he kept his gaze forward. The small kink in his lips gave him away though, when instead of pulling away you cozied yourself a bit more into his side and kept your arm tightly looped with his.

The rest of the walk was spent like that as you both trudged up the hill, out of the hub of the old town and out to the residential area. He quietly led you to his temporary housing, pulling out his set of keys from the inner pocket of his jacket and undid the front door of the building.

Walking up only one flight of stairs, you were soon being ushered inside a nice little apartment that could only be described as a character home. It was neat and cozy, just eclectic enough with tiled kitchen walls and different patterned rugs.

It was exactly the kind of place you had stayed in last time you were here.

“Let me turn the heat up,” Harry muttered, as you both shook off the snow from your hats and hair, hanging up the dampened clothing before warming back up in the apartment.

“Something to drink?” He called from the wall where he was presumably adjusting the heat, as you curiously glanced around the space he was staying in.

“What’ve you got?”

You easily found the kitchen as it was right after the hall from the door. A couple cups sat in the sink but it was otherwise clean. Harry joined you, standing across from you as he went to grab something from the fridge.

“”Have some mulled wine ready to be heated,” he pulled out a thermos.

“That sounds good,” you spoke quietly as you watched him work around the kitchen, grabbing a saucepan to heat it up.

He seemed to be stalling – you supposed you were as well. You didn’t know what you were doing here with him. You saw two possible outcomes, maybe three, but you didn’t know which one you were the most okay with.

Harry felt as though he had either been far too quiet, or was rambling too much. He wanted to ask you everything and find out absolutely everything and anything that had been going on in your life in the past ten months. He needed to calm down.

He heated up the homemade spaced mix, adding in a generous amount of the red wine. After a little moment while you distracted yourself with texting Eloise, you saw him pour a generous amount into each mug before turning off the element on the stove.

He handed you one of the mugs – a painted yellow ceramic one – settling to lean back against the counter across from you while you gripped the handle of your cup. 

You lightly blew on the smoke billowing out from the top, holding the mug out to him in a quiet cheers before each taking a sip.

It was still too hot, but you both seemed to be stalling from whatever was about to unfold and you took any chance to distract yourself that you could. The drink had been a good idea, and was already warming you up – probably both by the liquor and the temperature of the beverage

“Good?” Harry broke the silence, after swallowing another sip of the drink. He had one hand resting over the ledge of the counter, elbow bent with a relaxed shoulder while the other hand held the mug. You wondered if he really was relaxed or just appeared to be – you seemed to be having a hard time reading him at the moment.

“Really good,” you nodded, occupying your mouth with the beverage as you found yourself at a loss of what to say at the moment. “Thank you.”

Conversation seemed to be flowing so nicely in the café, but now it was like you had no idea how to be around each other.

Harry was nervous. When he made the offer to show you the countless unseen songs about you, he hadn’t really thought it through. It had seemed like the right thing to say, and he really did want to share that with you, but things were just so … uncertain.

He could tell, by the way you kept one arm crossed around your front with the other’s arm elbow perched to keep the mug by your lips, you were uneasy. He didn’t want you to be that way, he wanted you to be nothing but comfortable with him.

“So where is that writing you were bragging about?” Your smooth voice broke him out of his daze, as he lifted his eyes back up to see you peering at him from behind the mug.

Rolling his lips in against his teeth, the corners of his lips perked up both at the way you were looking at him and to mask the slight pit of nerves that suddenly appeared. “Give me a sec’”

Leaving his mug with you in the kitchen, he made his way to one of his bags where he knew was packed a series of old notebooks – all taken with him for any kind of inspiration.

Flipping through them, unable to help the way he suddenly grew anxious over the idea of showing these to you. Especially out of the blue. Especially after this sudden reunion.

Deciding what to show you and what not to, he triple checked that he had grabbed the right book before making his way back over to you. He found you exactly where you were previously, mug in one hand with the other holding your phone, quickly typing something with just one thumb.

At the sound of his footsteps, you placed your phone down on the counter and glanced up at your ex. Finding his place across from you in the kitchen, he extended the notebook out towards you. It was clearly worn in, little scribbles of words across the leatherbound cover.

You recognized it. From being perched over his lap, tucked in his bag, next to him on the nightstand. You knew it. 

“This was from that winter – actually think I filled it the last time we were here.” His voice was low, nearly distant as he tried not to look at you.

He didn’t know why he was sharing this with you now – maybe he felt like he needed to prove something, maybe he just missed you.

Wordlessly, you grabbed the worn book from him and tentatively opened it in your palm. Glancing up at him, he was clearly nervous and doing his best not to watch you read his every thought about you.

His eyes were cast to the side, looking out the window as if watching the heavy snowfall. With his arms now crossed over his chest, the thick knit of the sweater he was wearing bunching under his arms, you realized he looked more than nervous, almost worried.

You wondered if this was all a terrible idea.

Having not realized that you were still watching the profile of his face, looking at the way his eyes flicked from the window and down to the untouched mug that sat still on the counter. He grabbed it in a hand, the soft clink of the rings he had on against the ceramic being the only sound in the room.

You were sure he could feel you watching him, so much confirmed when the next place his eyes moved to were your own. Neither of you spoke, instead watched each other closely from either side of the small kitchen.

His expression was practically unreadable to you, something that you didn’t encounter often. You briefly thought he was upset with you, before he muttered. “Going to make dinner, if you’d like to stick around for some.”

Slightly surprised by the offer, even though you realized that when he had invited you to trudge up the hill with him to read a few half finished songs that probably wasn’t the complete intention.

Nodding, you answered with a low “thank you,” as he turned his body around and left the kitchen, no doubt searching for something elsewhere and leaving you to read alone.

Finally flipping open the book to a random page, turning a few pages until it looked less like a mess of scribbles and you could pull out several coherent sentences.

You found a small date written at the top of the page, and realized that this had been right in the middle of your last vacation in Annecy together.

You had to read over every word three, four times, before your hands moved without thinking and you were flipping the page to find more. Laying the spine of the notebook down against the kitchen counter, you leant over above it, completely captivated.

It was all so overwhelmingly beautiful. You didn’t realize that a small puddle of tears was gathering on your waterline until you blinked, and a few of them escaped and slid over the tops of your cheeks. Maybe this hadn’t been a good idea.

It was everything you remembered about being with Harry. Everything you remembered about the last time you were together in the little French town. Every ‘I love you’, every stolen kiss, every touch and feeling shared. It had been the happiest you ever remembered being.

It took you months to forget, or maybe not forget but not think about. And in a flood of it all coming back, you couldn’t help the tears that seemed to come flooding out as well.

Shutting the notebook a bit too quickly, you remained in your hunched position as you sponged at your tears with the back of your hand, wiping them away the best you could. You hadn’t thought about the reality, that there was no possible way you’d be able to handle reading everything that Harry had to say about you.

“Done already?” Harry’s voice startled you, not having heard him rejoin you in the kitchen. You quickly blinked your eyes, knowing there was no possible way to hide the fact that you had been crying but you hoped it wasn’t too obvious.

“No, I –” you cleared your throat lightly, turning around to look at him. You didn’t know what to say to him.

You watched his eyes scan your face, expression softening slightly before offering you a small smile. You assumed the whites of your eyes were reddened, and the skin surrounding was damp and still shiny from the little spill of tears.

He didn’t ask you anything else, and instead grabbed a pot from where it sat cleaned next to the sink and brought it over to the stove. “Do you want to chop the vegetables?”

Nodding with a murmured agreement, he handed you what needed to be cut along with a cutting board and a knife. You were grateful that he glossed over the topic, and now you found yourself biting back a smile. Spending time with him in such a mundane way was comforting. He put on some music, a soft background song playing while you both started to cook in a smooth harmony.

Conversation was light. He asked how living with Eloise was, you asked how long he had been in town for.

It wasn’t until you were both sitting across from each other with steaming bowls of soup and warmed bread, each having poured a generous amount of wine into your glasses that conversation got a bit heavier.

It started when you asked if he had been out to the lake yet, even though the cold weather obviously meant swimming wasn’t much of an offer. 

It ended, however, with a heavy silence when you both started to recall the last trip to the lake. Nearly a full year ago now, it was the second day of March and your last weekend away in this undisturbed paradise. The air was still very much crisp and carried a winter bite, and on a barely warm night, the two of you had the terrible idea of taking a little night dip. 

After about thirty seconds in the cold water, you couldn’t bear it and had to step out into the even colder air. After shivering back to your rental, you had drawn a burning hot bath to enjoy together and both decided that you would come back during the summer months to fully benefit from the lake and hikes.

But then you weren’t together over the summer. 

Harry had immediately noticed your change in demeanor at the bittersweet reminder of the memory, silently cursing himself for bringing the conversation that way. He had hoped that it would maybe spark something in you, some kind or romantic nostalgia, but instead it seemed to just upset you. 

A crushing silence had fallen again, and at least you had dinner to distract yourself with. Harry instead decided to change the conversation again, asking if Eloise still had those two little grumpy cats, and if you were enjoying staying with them. 

You were lightheartedly laughing again by the time you were clearing the dishes, both the wine and Harry helping in the warm feeling under your skin. Your cheeks had been rounded with a smile and your mind a bit fuzzy, intoxicated not as much by the liquor but more so by the loving feeling around you. 

It was quiet when you came back to the rental outside of town, the tiles of the floor cold under your feet after you had peeled your socks off. The rain had only increased in your short trip out to the nearby Monoprix, picking up what you needed to make a nice hearty soup for dinner as well as a bottle of wine. 

After getting far too wet on the walk you had gone on during the afternoon, initially wanting to go hiking but the weather got in the way. Harry had stuck back while you grabbed your groceries and a fresh baguette as you had finished off the one you had during breakfast. 

Hanging up your damp coat and taking off your too itchy sweater, you called out Harry’s name after placing the groceries down on the counter of the little kitchenette. 

A faint reply was heard, as you followed the sound of his voice to the closed bathroom door. He told you to come in, and you were met with a warm steamy bathroom and your partner relaxing into the back of the tub. 

“Didn’t feel like a shower,” he murmured as you smiled down at him, eyeing over the bubbles that covered the surface of the water. 

“Hi,” you whispered, leaning down to press your lips to his in a quick greeting as he extended his neck out towards you. “It’s still dreadful out - you have the right idea taking a bath.” 

You sat down on the edge of the tub, feet flat on the tile of the washroom floor as your upper body twisted to gaze down at Harry. The weeks so far spent in the small French town were like taking a break from reality - time was still and you could spend all the time you wanted wrapped up in each other. 

“Missed you,” he murmured, wet hand raising from under the water to grab at your wrist. Pulling it towards him, he pressed a light kiss over your pulse point. You let your hand fall over his shoulder when he let go, when he instead decided he wanted to feel your lips on his again. 

You easily complied, bending lower once more to slot your mouth over his with a lingering touch as he sighed over you. “Lips are cold.” 

You chuckled an apology, shifting yourself closer to him as you still balanced on the ledge of the tub. Your hand wrapped around his neck, feeling the damp strands between your fingers as one of his hands grabbed a light hold of your arm.  He traced a pattern over your bare arm, before shifting his arm around to the small of your back. 

You remained like that for a moment, sharing sweet kisses laced with soft affirmations of affection, hands not wandering further from light grasps over each other’s bodies. 

Though at a sudden move, a not so light move, an unattractive squeal left your mouth when your boyfriend hooked a hand under your bent knees and gripped you firmly, pulling you over the edge of the tub and into the water with him. You giggled his name after recovering from the initial shock, the heat of the water a sharp contrast to the chill in your bones and the sudden movement had your head spinning just the slightest bit. 

You surprisingly didn’t mind all that much – in fact you didn’t mind at all. Wet clothes could be dried, and the way he held you so tightly and gazed down at you so lovingly you didn’t even realize that you were fully dressed in the bathtub. 

Harry held you tightly, your legs now resting over him with his arm still under your knees as you found your place in his lap.

“My clothes are all wet,” you bit your bottom lip down, eyes catching Harry’s with a gleam as you rested your cheek against his chest. You looped your arm tighter around him, easily supported against his frame. “Could’ve given me a little warning.” 

“Thought you liked spontaneity,” his mouth sought out yours again, this time landing a peck just over your cupid's bow. “And you just seemed so cold.” 

You laughed over him and he pulled you even closer, as the water seeped through your clothes. You lifted your upper body a bit, not minding the way your shirt clung to your body as you brought your other hand to graze along the top of his cheek. “Really missed you.” 

“Wasn’t gone that long,” you whispered. “Picked up some more bread - the woman at the bakery recognized me.” 

You could feel the hum from his chest before you heard it, as he stole another quick peck from your lips. “Becoming a true local, aren’t you?” 

“Guess I am,” you mindlessly trailed your fingertips over his features, tracing the curve of his lips as he spoke. 

There was a small pause, a quiet comfortable silence. “What d’you say we stay a little longer?” 

You didn’t really need to think about the offer that much. “How much longer?” 

Harry shrugged, although knowing you both had responsibilities that were eventually needed to go back to. “Maybe a few more weeks?” 

“I’d love that,” you pressed your lips to his, knowing that you’d eventually work out the details later. 

He muttered something against your mouth, something you couldn’t quite catch as he returned your kiss. His hands wandered under your shirt, quickly pulling the soaking material from your body and throwing it with a wet slap to the tiled floor. Another problem to be dealt with later. 

Your lips parted as his tongue grazed over yours, a soft hitting of teeth when you tried to reposition yourself over him. His lips slid down your chin and your jaw as you brought your legs to straddle him, the growing uncomfortable heavy corduroy of your pants needing to be the next thing to be taken off. 

A soft curse escaped your lips both at the feeling of your lover’s hands on you and at the cool air, when he tugged your bralette over your head and again threw it somewhere to be immediately forgotten. His hands cupped your breasts, warm and wet and pulling deliciously at your nipples while his mouth sucked over the sensitive skin of your neck. 

“Help me get outta these,” you whispered into the air, one of your hands fumbling with the button and zipper of your trousers while you held onto him for support. 

After much moving around – splashing water, and slipping over the smooth bottom of the tub –  the heavy material was tugged off your legs and thrown over the edge of the tub. Finally feeling his skin completely against yours, you repositioned yourself over his lap with a leg on either side of his as your mouths met.

You sank into his arms as he whimpered your name, holding you tightly around your hips. One of his hands wandered lower, brushing lightly over your underwear covered heat.

You were both incredibly hot - from the water and from the increasing tension - as you blindly grabbed at each other in quick desperation. 

Your hips pressed over his, while his lips were wandering over the damp exposed skin of your chest, and he moaned lowly against you, “love you close - love you everywhere.” 

He raised his swollen mouth from your skin, pressing his words over your mouth. “Gonna spend the rest of my life with you like this.”

“You should stay the night.”

You turned your head towards Harry from where you were carrying over the stack of dishes. “What?”

“Snow hasn’t stopped,” he motioned to the closed window. “And it's getting late. Better idea for you to stay tonight.”

You only stared at him with your mouth slightly parted as if to speak, but didn’t know what to say. You figured that you hadn’t really thought this through, and it wasn’t completely crazy that it was a better idea to wait out the night out here with Harry.

“Not stay the night stay the night,” he continued, easily noticing the little lift in your lips.

“So it was only ever about the writing then?” The teasing tone in your voice was evident, though Harry couldn’t help the way his heart skipped at the possibility of you wanting to be here with him just as much as he wanted you.

“I think it’s always good to hold out some hope.” He answered, watching your eyes linger on him for a moment longer before glancing away with a small chuckle.

“I know you’re right,” you hummed, turning on the tap to begin washing the small load that needed to be done.

“About holding out hope or staying over?”

Biting your bottom lip between your teeth, you watched him approach you from the corner of your eye before answering. “Both.”

He tried his best to hide his smile when he joined your side by the sink, each settling in without much discussion of you as the washer of the dishes and him as the dryer. “So you’ll stay?”

You didn’t think about it too much. “I might need a shower,” you started, keeping your eyes on the soapy water that you pulled a ladle out of. “And to borrow some things.” 

“Still have the same face cream,” his hip bumped yours – almost so lightly it could’ve just been him readjusting his feet. ”Welcome to anything you’d like, always are.” 

This time it was obvious that it was on purpose. Not so much of a bump but a nudge, a slow one as he leaned his body closer to yours and rested against you for a brief second. 

“I’ll hold you to that,” you said lightly as your agreement, trying not to think too much about sharing a bed with your ex.

The quiet that came when you worked through the dishes together didn’t last all that long before Harry asked.

“Been seeing anyone?”

You glanced at him briefly. A cheek was half lifted, the hints of a smirk forming on his lips as he eyed you.

“Why’re you asking?” You countered, the answer to the question obvious.

“Why do you think,” he let out a chuckle, although was unable to help but feel a little anxious at the answer to the question, especially in your silence.

“There was one,” you spoke slowly. “A friend set it up – a double date. Saw him one more time after and that was it.”

“That was it?” Harry repeated your words, clearly looking for more of an explanation.

“Haven’t seen him again,” you turned off the tap, wiping your hands on the dish cloth hanging off a hook before facing Harry. “And you?”

“Twice,” he said – if you were going to be honest so was he. “Different person each time.” 

“Busy boy,” you mused, trying not to wonder how long after you split it had been, or how recently. 

His smirk had died down, meeting your eyes earnestly. “Never saw either again. You're a hard one to get over.”

His words hit you hard in the chest, like a little stab of a knife deep and sharp. He had spoken lightly, but you didn’t miss the slight clipped tone of his voice. 

“Did anything… happen with the guy?” He asked immediately after, not giving you much of a chance to react to his confession.

You only bit your bottom lip down, holding your mouth shut. The soft lights from above seemed like they had dimmed, the space around you feeling smaller and more intimate.

He took your silence as the answer, a pit of jealousy building at the mere thought of someone else's hands on you. 

“Just a kiss,” you told him, barely able to recall the short end of date kiss shared between you and the man you hadn’t even thought about. “On the second date.”

Harry only hummed, arms crossing over his chest as he leant his hip against the counter. The dishes were nearly done and long forgotten by now.

“D’you wanna see him again?”

“Harry –”

“If you haven’t seen him since then it doesn’t sound that way,” he mused, cutting you off with his petty rambling. “Especially now that you’ve come here.”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Wasn’t like what?” His tone was quiet, but as you looked up to see him again his eyes held something more, begging for your attention.

“I just wanted –” Stopping yourself, you couldn’t continue. I just wanted to stop thinking about you. Instead, you spoke a quiet “I don’t know.”

A heavy silence surrounded you for the millionth time that day. It had only been a few hours since you’d run into each other, since he’d invited you up and you’d easily agreed. You only looked away from him when his touch was felt over you, glancing down at the hand landing over yours on the counter, resting his palm over your knuckles.

His thumb softly brushed the skin. “Why did you come here?”

Harry couldn’t help but ask you again. He knew why he had come here, and he had a growing suspicion that you had come for the same reason – you were both just too stubborn to say anything.

“I told you, Eloise offered –”

“You could’ve gone anywhere though, I didn’t even know you were close with her.” Harry again, couldn’t help it.

You knew very well what he wanted to hear.

After a moment in silence, he spoke quietly and earnestly. “Did you miss us?”

You had to look away. You could feel his eyes burning into the side of your face, able to hear the heavy swallow in his throat before he spoke once more. “Did you miss me?”

You watched his hand lightly rest over yours, the way neither of you moved but once and a while there would be a small flinch or twitch of muscle as if the need to grab onto the other rested right below the surface.

“Of course I did,” his hand held yours a little tighter when you spoke. “We were good.”

“We were,” Harry repeated, quietly pondering on the past tense of the sentiment.

The decision to invite you up had been innocent at first, or so he wanted to tell himself that, but having you here with him was something he’d never thought to experience again. He asked you the same question once more. “Is that why you came here?”

Daring a few more steps towards you, the hand that was not over yours raised to brush its knuckles under your cheek, before grabbing a hold of your jaw. You were watching him closely, needing to swallow a thick gulp of air when he neared you.

Deciding not to answer him, as you both seemed to be aware of the true answer, you avoided the question entirely. “Is that why you came?”

You dropped your eyes down to his mouth when the corners of it quirked up, quickly looking back up to his eyes, almost hoping that he would avoid truly answering just as you had.

“It is, yeah.”

His earnestness shouldn’t have surprised you. You felt his words before you even processed them, momentarily reveling in your closeness. You were sure you were going to start crying again if he didn’t say anything else.

“Remember last time we were here,” Harry said, again quickly changing the subject. His hand that rested over yours moved up, sliding over the bare skin of your wrist before looping around to hold the counter behind you. Keeping himself impossibly close, he kept speaking at your nod. “Remember one of the first nights, in the park by the lake, the dancing, what was that called?”

“Bal musette,” you said without having to think about it all that much .

“Yeah,” his lips curved to a wider smile at the memory. “All the men wanted to dance with you.”

“They were all in their eighties,” you hummed, letting yourself lean into his touch over your cheek.

“Still,” he grinned. “We were good.”

You remembered the cool air, not quite spring yet but the ends of winter were apparent. Harry had held you close, he always did. It had been an evening of uncontrollable laughs, interlocked hands, and stumbling home in a rush. The late dinners, the indulgence in delicious chocolates, the walks by the lake; it was all too good. The entire time really, was a blissful month.

You knew it, you both knew it. Right now, neither of you could even remember what had led to a break up in the first place.

He was all around you, his arms keeping you in while the tip of his nose nudged your cheek and his face grew closer to yours. There was only a soft orange glow in the room, hitting off the top of his features in a way that drew you in. So close he became a blur to you, something you hadn’t experienced in nearly a year.

But it was when he tilted his chin down that you processed what he was about to do, that you let your head fall to the side in a quick move to avoid his kiss, only a brush of his cheek over your jaw being felt.

Harry let himself fall forward, his forehead landing on your shoulder as he let out a quiet chuckle into the crook of your neck. Neither of you moved from where you were, still standing pressed to one another with his chest pushing against yours and his arms on either side of you.

Moving your head back, you couldn’t help the breathless laugh that blew through your nose, not doubt tickling the skin of his neck.

“What was that,” you hummed quietly.

He tilted his head slightly, lips brushing over the skin of your neck. “Sorry,” he spoke, although he didn’t mean the apology all that much. He had wanted to kiss you; he still does. “Felt right.”

It was overwhelming, being close and personal with you once more. Harry moved his nose to the column of your neck, smelling the familiar comfort of the perfume that lingered on you.

“Felt right,” he repeated, voice muffled from his mouth resting over your neck. He didn’t miss the way you tilted your head again, this time not to avoid his touch but to allow more space along your neck as he pressed the lightest of touches onto the sensitive skin. “Didn’t it?”

He also didn’t miss the soft hitch in your throat, breath getting caught when he let his lips linger. Getting lost in you for a moment, when you lifted a hand to his shoulder, and wrapped your arm around him in a desire to keep him close. His lips pressed harder, parting to allow a quick lick of his tongue over the familiar skin. You sighed softly above him, feeling everything at once in a breathtaking moment.

But then you found your breath again, and spoke his name quietly before shifting away from him. “Harry –”

“I know-”

He sighed, a deep pull of air through his lungs when he pulled away from you. Just enough to meet your bewildered eyes, just enough that he could see every detail on your face without having them blur. “Let’s get to sleep, yeah?”

You only nodded, peering into his eyes as if it would help you read his mind. His gaze flickered away from yours, falling to the spot of floor between your feet before willing himself to move away from you. “We’ll feel better in the morning.”

You had no idea what he meant at all, but only watched him walk away from where he had just been. The quiet music that had still been playing was abruptly turned off, the lack of sound making the rapid beating of your heart that much louder. Taking a minute for yourself, you slowly followed him out of the kitchen.

“D’you mind if I shower?” Your voice sounded foreign to yourself, after an uncomfortable silence settled in the apartment.

“Go ahead,” his voice was distant, and you simply made your way to the washroom for a quick shower before likely not getting any sleep through the night.

Seeing the array of his toiletries laid out over the countertop was once more far too familiar, most of them being the same ones you had seen nearly everyday. Helping yourself to them since you were here for the night, you did your best to scrub off what makeup you had one before getting into the shower.

“Hey,” Harry’s voice suddenly invaded your senses, as he nudged the door open just as you were about to pull your sweater up over your head, hand stuck halfway up your chest.

Immediately dropping your hand back down as the knit fell back over your body, you saw Harry's eyes raise up to yours through the mirror. “Sorry,” he spoke quietly. “Just bringing you some clothes that you can sleep in.”

“Thank you,” you only looked at him through the mirror, watching as his eyes fell back down to where your hands were still holding your sweater by your hips.

Another moment too long passed with neither moving or saying anything, and just as you parted your lips to say anything, Harry cleared his throat. “I know, I know.”

He sighed, as if you had been about to scold him for lingering again and shut the bathroom door behind him, leaving you alone once more.

You showered as quickly as you could, washing your body and keeping your hair out of the water. You tried your best not to think about the way Harry’s eyes had slowly dragged over your body, even your sweater covered one. You tried not to think about the way he smelt the same, or the way his hands felt so good around you and the way he had wanted to kiss you. Or the way his lips felt so familiar over your neck, that if you hadn’t stopped him there might not be a wall separating the both of your right now. 

And it didn’t get better when you came around the corner dressed in his clothes, sweats bunching at your ankles and the crewneck looking warm around you. You shot him a nervous smile from where he was already in bed, placing your belongings next to the bag you had on the floor, before turning back to glance at Harry.

“Well come on in,” he smiled, trying not to let his gaze linger on you for too long and lifted the corner of the duvet up on the other side of the mattress. With the sleeves of the crewneck pulled over your palms, you tentatively slid in on the bed, trying your best to maintain as much distance as you possibly could.

Harry turned off his phone, placing it on the table next to him before leaning over to shut off the only source of light.

You rested on your side, daring to face Harry as you hugged the pillow under your cheek. “It was a nice surprise seeing you today,” you started, not wanting to go to sleep on an awkward note. 

He faced you when you spoke, mirroring your position from the other side of the mattress. “What are the odds that we both came back here,” he posed it less of a question, more as a quiet wondering. “Would never have thought -”

Humming in response, you didn’t know what the odds were really. Must have been pretty low, and the fact that you were both here and now found yourselves sharing a bed was not at all where you thought you’d end up when you got up this morning. 

He turned from his side to his back, looking away from you and instead chose to stare up at the ceiling. The urge to be close to you was strong, and it felt incredibly odd to not be near you as you both went to sleep together. 

“Goodnight,” you spoke quietly. You shuffled down the mattress and rested your head over the pillow. There was no way you were going to sleep tonight.

“’Night,” Harry hummed from the other side of the bed, lying just as stiff as you were.

You rolled onto your side with your back to the man you couldn’t believe you were sharing a bed with once more. You begged your mind to turn off, to let sleep take over your body so that it could be morning, and maybe everything would make sense in the morning.

But instead your mind wandered to every possible thought regarding Harry, and you rolled onto your back to stare at the ceiling. Trying your damn hardest not to pay attention to Harry’s breathing, or his own shuffles on the bed.

You didn’t know how long it had been, but you were starting to grow hot. Sticking a leg out from under the covers didn’t help much, and then you couldn’t stop thinking about it. You couldn’t stop thinking about Harry – about how you felt with him, about how he made you feel when you had been together. In and out of the bedroom.

Rolling onto your stomach for the thousandth time, hoping Harry was asleep so he hadn’t been hearing your constant shuffling, you squeezed your thighs together and cursed yourself for thinking what you were while lying in a bed with your ex. Wasn’t so much arousal, but just… neediness.

Not only could you not stop thinking about every touch you shared, the linger of his hands and his lips, but you couldn’t take your mind off of every single word you read in his old notebooks. It was haunting you nearly, an old ghost that was sitting on your chest and leaving you heavy hearted. 

It was when you rolled from your stomach to your back again with a quiet sigh, that Harry muttered against his pillow with a low voice, “stop movin’ around.”

Slightly embarrassed that he had obviously been awake the entire time as well, you rolled your head to the side to see him over the space of the middle of the mattress. “Sorry – can’t sleep.”

He did the same, turning his head so that your eyes could meet in the nearly completely dark room. “Me neither.”

You simply looked at each other for a moment, trying to let yourself relax enough so that you could eventually drift to sleep before Harry spoke again. “It feels odd, doesn’t it? Sleeping but not being close.”

You nodded, realizing he couldn’t really see your movement before speaking. “Yeah – I can’t relax.”

This time there was no pause between words. “Come here,” Harry said quickly.

“What?”

He shuffled closer to the middle, closer towards you. “Friends can cuddle, can’t they? Just – come here.”

You didn’t think too much of the offer..

You moved away from the very edge of the bed, closer to where Harry layed. He extended an arm out, wrapping it around your shoulders as you came closer and pulled you in to lay next to his chest. Tentatively raising your hand, you laid it flat over his chest before sliding it around him as you hugged him from the side.

It felt nice – normal even, being in his arms. He let out another sigh, murmuring a quiet “goodnight” before settling back down into the mattress.

You felt his hand fall lightly over your shoulder, fingertips brushing on the fabric of the borrowed jumper. You were hyper focused on your breathing, trying your best to steady it in a lame attempt of getting your heartbeat to calm down. But when you realized Harry’s heart was beating just as fast, you relaxed even more against him.

Sleep came slowly, but it eventually did come. At one point Harry moved positions, just the slightest bit, but just enough that he was able to push a leg against yours. Slowly moving your own legs, you let him rest his calf over yours with the small tangle of your legs. That was the last thing either of you remembered before falling asleep.

The morning held a bit more tension.

Harry woke up before you, and spent far too long contemplating on whether he should get up or not. So long, in fact, that you had woken up and made the decision for him. While he feigned being asleep, you quietly shuffled out from under the covers. 

Following the sound of your footsteps to the washroom, he heard the door close behind you and the quiet hum of the tap after a moment. He wondered if you would leave immediately.

Getting out of bed himself, he first went to go adjust the thermostat as the air was far too cold after being out of the cozy warmth of the bed, and went to go turn on the kettle.

You were by his side moments later, each sharing quiet “good mornings” while he tried not to stare at the way your eyelids still drooped down and the way you pulled the sleeves of his jumper over your hands.

He knew the offer of coffee would get you to stay for a cup, but by the way you had rushed back to the bathroom with your clothes from the day before told him that you weren’t planning on sticking around for too long.

By the time you reappeared by his side, you were dressed just as you had yesterday. He knew he’d find the clothes you’d borrowed folded over his bed. You seemed fresher faced than last time, even catching a whiff of his lavender scented moisturizer that you always used to borrow.

Biting his lips together to hide his smile at the fact you had in fact taken your liberties with his toiletries just as he’d offered, he quietly prepared you a cup of coffee while your attention was drawn down to your phone.

You mindlessly answered texts, none of them that urgent that they required your full attention as you still couldn’t help but pay close attention to Harry’s every move.

“Sleep okay?” He finally broke the silence.

You paused, needing to clear your throat before answering. “I did, yeah.” Only after he had invited you to lay peacefully in his arms. “You?”

“Did as well,” he hummed, filling the two mugs with the wonderful smelling coffee. “A lot better after you stopped moving around.”

“Sorry again,” you suddenly felt hot at his mention of your irritation – at the reminder of how incredibly needy you had gotten for him to even lay a hand over your own. Taking the mug of coffee as a welcomed distraction, you cupped it in two hands to bring it up to your mouth, blowing over the hot liquid.

He dropped the subject, though, as he mirrored your action and you both took a moment to let the coffee stall the inevitable goodbye that was about to be shared.

“What’re you up to today?” 

He thought it over for a second, not actually having planned all that much. “Need to grab a few things from the store, otherwise not a whole lot.” He thought aloud. “And you?” 

“Driving to Aix-les-Bains with Eloise, some store over there she wants to see.” You had just seen the text from your friend, deciding to not answer all the ones questioning what had happened with Harry. 

You both took big sips of the still too hot coffee. “No writing today?” 

“Not that I’ve been that successful,” you mumbled into the mug. 

“You’ll find it,” he affirmed. “I know you will.” 

Your chest warmed, not from the heat of the beverage but from the sincerity of his statement. You hid your face behind your mug, taking a nearly too big sip that you nearly choked on. 

“Thanks again, for letting me stay and for… everything.” You placed the mug by your side, the caffeine suddenly making you nauseous. The words you had read in his old notebook still haunted you. 

Harry realized that you were about to tell him that you were leaving, and a small bout of panic rose through his stomach. “Of course -” 

He watched, dumbfounded of what to say, as you walked from the kitchen to where you had left your belongings and started arranging them in your bag and put your phone into the pocket of your trousers. Harry couldn’t stop watching every small move you made.

His eyes followed you around the kitchen, mind racing to find anything to say to you anything that would at the very least have you coming back to see him.

“Can I see you again?” He suddenly blurted, voice louder than it had been before, making you stop in your movements and turn to face him.

Your mouth parted and for a moment he thought it was forming into a ‘yes’, but it never came. And he didn’t realize that it never came because his attention caught on something else. Something that had been hiding beneath the tight knit of your sweater yesterday, something that he had forced himself to forget about.

He moved without realizing, taking the two small steps needed to stand right next to you. Noticing his sudden action, you turned yourself so that your body faced his with a small crease of confusion forming between your brows.

He couldn’t help it. Reaching out to where the small locket rested below your collarbones, he caught your attention with the small tug of the chain.

Oh.

Remaining quiet, you watched his focus fall to the necklace that had never been taken off. His bottom lip fell with a quiet exclamation, one you couldn’t hear no matter how close you stood. He turned it over in his hand, briefly wondering whether it was too far to open the little locket.

“Couldn’t take it off.” You said, as he remained quiet due to his current fascination.

You both watched as he toyed with the light metal in his fingers. Grazing over the small flat pearl that graced the front of the pendant, seeing it just as he’d last remembered it.

He had once again found himself standing desperately close to you. If he had moved closer while looking at the jewelry, he wasn’t sure. But when he let it fall back against the light purple knit of your sweater to meet your gaze, he realized that he could see every twitch of your eyes when they moved to gaze up at him.

His hand didn’t fall far, landing with a light touch over your wrist just as he had the night before.

“Give me a shot.”

You tilted your chin up, his words settling in with a flip of your stomach. “You said it yourself – we were good.”

“I know,” was all you could muster, the clear confidence in his words making your heart beat a little harder.

“And I’m having a hard time remembering what went wrong,” a humourless laugh shook from his chest, as he kept his eyes focused on the little locket that had been gifted to you nearly a year ago. “And seeing you here, out of all places. I can’t be the only one.”

“I know,” you repeated, very aware of the intense emotion that had been clouding your mind in the past twelve hours. “You’re not the only one.”

He lifted your wrist that he held, gently placing your arm over his shoulder to move in closer to you. You didn’t object, sliding your palm over the crook of his neck. You were unable to help but take a quick look at his mouth, at his lips that hovered so close to yours.

“Give us a shot,” he whispered, breath hitting the inside of your wrist when he titled his chin towards your arm. His lips skimmed the skin, pressing feather light kisses over the inside of your wrist. With the same light pattern of kisses on the inside of your forearm, he moved his lips away to instead focus on your face.

Placing his hand under your jaw, a similar position that you held him in as he seemed to be moving ever so slowly. Tilting his jaw up towards you, he let his lips skim so slightly across your cheek, so light you nearly thought you had imagined it. Just as he had last night, his nose brushed over your own first while he took a moment to savour you.

Waiting for any sign of hesitation on your part, which never came, he let his lips slowly fall over the corner of your mouth. Wet trail of touches that moved away from your lips and instead over to your cheek, he took a moment to hold you against him.

He whispered something over your jaw, you couldn’t hear him. With your eyelids fluttered shut and your head spinning, all your focus was set on what his lips were doing rather than what they were saying.

This time it was you, who slid your hand to the back of his neck with a much firmer grip. It was you that led his mouth to capture yours.

It was just lips on lips at first, a quick kiss that lasted barely a second. You pulled away before he could even have a chance to react, a small smile curving at your lips when you glanced up at him.

His hand slid up your arm to hold a tight grip around your back, while the other circled to the back of your neck, thumb brushing over your skin in soft circles. He pulled you in again, both relaxing into the kiss as his lips eased over yours.

Kissing him was everything good you remembered. The way he gripped you tightly against him, the soft touch of his lips, the way your name was rolling off his tongue in a quiet incredulous breath. 

His mouth was warm, inviting, fitting so perfectly over yours as you tentatively parted your own lips to invite him in for more. Your free hand joined the other around his neck, letting his tongue graze against yours as you tasted each other for the first time in nearly a year. It was all the same – like no time had really passed at all.

Feeling his hand circle around your hip, holding you close as a quiet moan rumbled from deep in his chest. You couldn’t help the content sigh at the sound, completely melting into him. He was pressing tight against you, mouth completely capturing yours while your breathing mixed and lips dampened. 

Your chins hit awkwardly when you tilted your head to the side and he went to lightly suck over your bottom lip. Though you didn’t mind the slight sting of his chin knocking yours, in fact you found yourself welcoming everything about him. 

It wasn’t until you realized you were sharing heavy breaths, and when your lips had been growing more and more desperate for the other that you needed to separate for a quick deep breath of air. 

He breathed your name with a quiet smile tugging at the corners of his mouth that was easily heard in his voice. “We’re still good.” 

Your head was spinning. His head was spinning. Nothing seemed to be real, at the moment but at the same time everything seemed far too real. 

Just as he leant in again, searching for your lips once more, you slid your palm down from his shoulder to the center of his chest and pushed yourself back an inch. “Harry…”

You wanted to feel his mouth on yours again, you really did. You just couldn’t bear to think what would come of it – you couldn’t revisit all the pain that you had managed to push away. 

He shook his head, not believing you were about to turn him down again. Especially after that. He knew he shouldn’t be upset with you about it, he knew it was completely valid on your end but in this moment he felt like everything was coming crashing once more.

When he heard the quiet and pained tone in your voice, he bit his lip down – his lip that could still feel the whisper of yours – and shook his head in disbelief.

“We shouldn’t.” 

A sharp pain came from your chest as Harry seemed to deflate against you. “If you don’t –” he had to look away from your heavy eyes as he spoke. “You can’t kiss me like that and then push me away.” 

He was right - of course he was right - but you were so incredibly confused and couldn’t seem to process a single thing that you were feeling. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, neither of you moving. “I didn’t mean to…” you didn’t know what to say, because you really did want to kiss him. You still do. “I’m really sorry.” 

Harry shook his head. “Don’t be sorry –” he sighed, hands falling from your body.

When he didn’t say anything else, you slowly dragged your palm over your forehead, feeling the sudden tension of the situation manifest in a growing pain in your head. “We can’t keep living in the past.” 

He hated himself for the sliver of hope he felt when you said ‘we’. 

“We were so fucking good,” he knew he needed to stop entertaining the topic but he really couldn’t help it He knew you saw it too. “We were a team, we were solid. I just don’t know,” he cut himself off, running the back of his hand over his mouth.  “I don’t know.” 

A thick moment of silence passed – you couldn’t bear it. “It’s too…” you had to take a deep breath as you felt a sob build in your chest. “It’s too painful to go through this again, Harry – this has been the hardest year of my life I can’t –”

You need to cut yourself off, shoulders shaking as you kept your eyes glued to the floor. “I should go.”

[hardlyinteresting]

Risks Worth Taking 2/2

This is the second half, part 2/2 of the story, thank you to everyone who has read it! Professor!Zemo x Student reader Part 1 here The reader takes Zemo’s philosophy class focusing on Machiavelli. Posted in 2 parts because it exceeded the textbox limit. Apx 3k words.

Warnings: student-teacher relationship (the reader is of age, no real focus on power imbalance), implied age gap, consumption of alcohol, implication that the reader is sleeping with Zemo for better grades (she's not) and of course let me know if you want me to add anything else!!

Week five, he is not shocked to find she’s once again the first one in class. “Good evening,” he greets warmly, unwrapping his scarf from around his neck as he makes his way to his desk. She smiles back, “I left my paper on your desk there, I figured I’d get the pile started”. He laughs setting down his coat and bag, “Something tells me there will be few submissions for this class”.

He’s right. Less than half the class bothers to show up. Most of her peers seem to be getting a head start on winter break, at least the class is quiet she thinks content listening to Helmut summarize the most recently assigned chapters, providing historical context where needed.

“Enjoy your break Helmut,” she says softly as he shuts the lecture hall door.

“You as well. Do you have plans?” She shakes her head, “No, just reading”. He smiles, “Then I am sure it will be a good break indeed”.

The cafe is warm and cosy. She settles comfortably into her favourite booth with her favourite book and a second cup of tea.

The bell at the front door dings as a man enters in a long black coat and leather gloves. Fancy she thinks to herself as he approaches the counter to order. It's usually other students dressed in sweatpants and hoodies, the man’s put together dress piques her interest. He orders and then she watches over the top of her book as he drops a $10 bill into the barista’s tip jar. Oh, well dressed and exceedingly well mannered. She can't help but watch him as he waits. Removing his gloves he tucks them into his pockets and unbuttons his coat, she swears she can smell his cologne from where she sits; it's incredible!

“Cherry blossom tea for Helmut?” The barista calls sliding the cup across the counter.

Helmut? It isn't. Is it? He turns after saying a polite thank you, and she can feel her heart hammering as he turns and she sees his face. It is. She's not sure why she's shocked, she did tell him about this place after all. Do I say something? She wonders, weighing the pros and cons, but her thoughts are halted when she hears his voice,

“Hello,” he smiles softly, “I didn't expect you to be here--I know you pointed this place out, but I wasn't--”

He's worried he's intruding. Oh, how the tables have turned.

“No, no. It's okay! I don't own the place-- did you want to sit? You don't have to--”

He chuckles as her nerves get the best of her.

Silently he sets down his cup shrugging out of his coat, putting it over the back of the chair before sitting down.

“What are you reading?” He smiles, trying to peak at the cover.

Again, after their initial stiffness, the conversation flows smoothly, just like it had in his office. After several warm drinks, and a couple croissants ordered between the two of them it’s grown dark outside. Neither had noticed the cafe empty out slowly over the hours, the barista cleaning up for the night until she clears her throat from behind the counter. They both turn to look at her, finally noticing how quiet the shop is.

“Sorry, we’re closing now,” the barista smiles sweetly. “Not a problem. I apologise, we lost track of time. We’ll get out of your way,” Helmut apologizes. The pair collect their things sliding back into their coats and gloves. Helmut waits patiently for her to be ready to go his hand resting gently at the small of her back as she slips out of the booth and past him.

Helmut stops and puts another bill in the girl’s tip jar.

“Sorry for keeping you,” he apologises again.

Outside the winter wind is cold against their faces.

“Are you hungry?” Helmut asks.

“I could eat,” She responds. “Ever been there?” Helmut asks pointing to the pub across the street. “I don’t know if it’s your speed. It’s not super nice or anything, but their food is decent,” she says honestly. He laughs, “‘Decent’ is better than what I can make at home by myself”.

She bites her lip thinking about it, does he want to spend more time with me?

“Okay,” she smiles as they make their way across the street.

Settled at a table, they wait for their server, she asks, “Was that a fifty dollar bill I saw you put in that tip jar?”

He shrugs, “Yes”.

He says that as if it’s normal, she thinks.

“I know you’re not from here, but you do know that’s a lot of money right?” “Yes,” he shrugs again, “But she made excellent tea all afternoon, she let us stay as late as she could and she was polite. And I have been here long enough to know that servers of any kind don’t get paid fairly. I can afford it, she deserves it”.

She feels the smile grow across her face, she considers gushing that he’s such a good person, but instead what comes out is, “I’m really starting to consider becoming a professor”.

He laughs, “I told you, it’s family money, not my facility pay”. God, that laugh, sets off butterflies in her stomach, the warm, genuine sound of his laughter.

He continues, “Before Sokovia fell, my family were royalty. I was a Baron there”. “I knew your name sounded familiar,” she sighs, “I remember hearing about Sokovia on the news. I remember your name, you were building orphanages and relief centres”.

He nods sadly, “Many of us thought we could salvage what we had left after everything. We couldn’t”.

“I’m so sorry,” she says, without thinking she reaches across the table to place a comforting hand on his arm. His hand comes to cover hers, so much larger than her own.

There’s a silence between them for one of the first moment since he sat down with her earlier at the cafe. But it’s not uncomfortable, it’s the opposite -- a silence of understanding, both parties knowing there’s nothing they can say to make things better-- they can only ruminate.

The peace is broken by a waiter coming to take their orders. “Do you drink Helmut?” She asks with a mischievous smile. “I have been known to indulge,” he confesses, his eyebrows furrowed. “Two shots of ?” she turns to look at Helmut expectantly. “Vodka,” he replies. “Two shots of vodka, and an order of cheese fries to share please,” she orders, “thank you”.

The waiter returns not before long, placing the drinks and food on the table.

She holds her shot glass up waiting for him to do the same. “Prost,” he says raising his glass towards her. “Cheers,” she responds clinking her glass into his before they both tip them back.

And that’s how their night begins.

It’s nearing midnight when they settle their bill, Helmut insisting he pay-- though she put up a good fight. “Can I walk you home?” He asks looking at her under the light of the street lamps. She nods, her face feeling warm both from his attention and the alcohol coursing through her bloodstream. Her apartment is only three blocks away, but time seems to slow down as they walk arm in arm through the freshly fallen snow. At her door they stop, she looks up at him, him down at her. Without a thought, lips meet. It’s not rough or particularly sexy, but she feels her knees go weak when his hand comes to cup her cheek, his other splayed across the small of her back pulling her closer. This kiss deepens and she clutches the lapel of his wool coat before they both pull away. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “Don’t be,” she sighs.

Then the thought hits her, “How are you getting home?” “Oh-- I was going to get a cab and go back to the cafe to pick up my car in the morning,” he explains. “Nonsense-- you can stay here,” she offers unlocking her door and stepping inside, he doesn’t follow. “Not in my bed,” she laughs flicking on the light, “I’ll set you up on the couch”. He steps inside.

In the morning he wakes to the sun shining through the window. It takes him a minute to orient himself remembering he crashed on her couch. He sits up taking a moment to look around the apartment, it’s cute. Books and textbooks and notebooks strewn about the place. It’s homey and inviting and every bit what he’d expect her space to look like. Carefully he grabs one of the open notebooks tearing out a page he writes a quick note:

Good morning, I find that I feel very sorry for having to leave before you wake. Alas, I have much to get done, and I do not wish to trespass in your home longer than needed. I am grateful for your hospitality, and even more, your company. If my memory serves correctly I must also apologise for making that advance towards you last night. It was ungentlemanly, and you are unquestionably deserving of much better. I hope you can forgive me, and that you might allow me to make it up to you. -Helmut

Week six.

“He should appear to be compassionate, faithful to his word, guileless, and devout.” Is written across the board. When she settles into her seat. She’s not early this week, rather just on time. Helmut notes the heavy rise and fall of her chest as she tries to catch her breath, he holds back a smile at the thought of her sprinting to his class. When the class is settled, he proceeds to hand back all of the submitted essays, now marked. He smiles as he sets hers on her desk, “Bravo,” he says quietly enough that just she hears it as he shuffles along to the next row of students. She anxiously flips to the last page, red pen scrawl reads 100%. Her jaw drops. There’s no way. She thinks back to the rumours she heard on campus at the beginning of the year, about how difficult a marker he is. Bullshit. Her blood boils, rage sizzling beneath her skin. She avoids his eyes for the rest of class staring down at her notebook as she notices the indents in the blank page-- indents left from where he had written her a note that morning. Her anger freezes replaced by the cold sinking feeling in her chest. All his kind words, all those moments shared-- did he really think she was just spending time with him for a better grade? What kind of handout does he expect to get from her? She scolds herself now for the little crush she’d developed-- how stupid could she be? The prince must appear to be virtuous in order to hide his actions, She remembers from her reading, a dagger to her chest as she thinks bitterly that she’s not shocked that the professor is practising what he preaches.

The class ends and he moves to collect his paperwork, sorting it back into his bag. She stays. “I’m glad you stayed behind,” he starts. “I’m sure you are,” she says sharply. Confused he puts his things down turning to face her. “Have I done something to upset you?” He asks seriously his head tilted to the side as he racks his brain for anything he may have done to make her so cross. Perhaps his note was not sufficient in conveying his apology? “Do you think I’m stupid? Or that I’m naive?” she asks arms crossed, “I’m not sleeping with you for a good grade,” she states firmly, sliding her essay back across her desk, “feel free to adjust my grade accordingly”. Is that what she thinks? His mouth goes dry, his mind and heart racing with all the different ways he wants to apologise, to tell her that she has it wrong. He approaches her, finally making eye contact with her, “Your grade will stay as it is. I mark all of my student’s work without looking at the cover pages. I have always strived to remain impartial. Your essay was marked no differently,” He explains calmly, “I would be wrong to say that I don’t hold any affections for you-- it is quite the opposite. I enjoy the time we have spent together, and I would like to continue to remain in your company; I hope to eventually find myself in your affections-- but none of this has any bearing on your grade. I am sorry that I have acted in a way where this was not clear”. Her throat clenches, oh. “I’m sorry--Oh my god--I’m so stupid!” her hand flies to cover her mouth. “You have nothing to apologise for-- I should be the one apologising,” he insists. She shakes her head standing to stand in front of him, “We’ve both been obtuse”. “I’d like to make it up to you. I’d like to take you out for dinner-- a proper meal. If you’ll allow me”. She nods her hand coming to rest on his cheek, thumb running gently across his cheekbone, “I would like that,” she says quietly, her eyes glazing at his lips, “But only after the semester is done and I’ve graduated”. “If that is what you want,” he nods understanding. She can feel him leaning in, her eyes flickering up to his caramel eyes and back down to his lips, his hand rests on her hip, but he waits for her to close the gap between them.

Last day of the school year.

She waits by the door to the lecture hall as he speaks to his class. She listens to the back and forth of conversing ideas from the students, her heart beating faster every time Helmut speaks. It takes a while for everyone to leave when the class is over, but he does his best not to make her wait too long, gathering his things as quickly as possible, he makes his way over to her.

“Maybe I should’ve taken this course, the conversation was much more lively!” She laughs. “Your intelligent thoughts would have been wasted here, my dear” He smiles shutting the door behind him, “your class needed a brilliant mind in it”.

The summer goes by quickly. Fine dining, nights in. reading during rainstorms. Nights of soft romance, followed by nights of passion. Pasts shared. Futures envisioned. In his bed the night before the new school year she rolls over to lay almost on top of him, laughing when he lets out an oof. “Old man she teases,” earning a playful pinch on the thigh from him.

She glances at his nightstand, a copy of The Prince laying there.

“And what are your personal feelings about Machiavelli anyway? You never speak about your own thoughts”

“You're so clever,” he laughs, “but you're right”.

He sighs pulling her closer. he tries to focus on his hand running up and down her arm, how soft her sweater is under his fingertips. He takes a deep breath before speaking, “every time I read it, my opinions change,” he confesses, “there was a time when I was young and stupid; thought I was invincible that I agreed with a lot of his ideals. Then I grew older, fell in love--I thought him stupid and lonely. I experienced an incredible loss--”

She squeezes his side as she hears his voice grow tense with tears, he swallows and continues, “and then I thought I understood him. I learned how to grieve and I thought him intolerable. In the end I learn more about myself than I do him”.

She smiles, “and have you read it lately?”

He nods kissing her softly, “I have”.

“And?”

“I learned to trust my instincts. To take the risks that are worth taking”

“You're kind of a sap,” she laughs, her face getting warm she buries it in his chest. Part 1 here

[migilini]

I Do - Charlie Gillespie

a/n: I watched to many seasons of married at first sight and this came to mind. Just pretend that Charlie in this GIF is wearing a suit. Kinda a part two to Fifth Time Workes A Charm

Requests are open btw! (not just for Charlie)

words: 3k

warnings: none just fluff and a lot of crying

MASTERLIST

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

You barely slept during the night. You kept waking up what felt like every hour to check if it was time to get up. The bed felt awfully empty and you would give everything right now to be in his arms. Then finally, the clock strikes 9 am and you are up on your feet, the nerves getting the better of you. The hotel room was nice and clean, you didn't like it, it felt too white and too lifeless to you right now.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, glowing but tired eyes staring right back at you. Taking a deep breath you tried to shake the nerves with a silly little body shake, then you smiled at yourself before heading into the bathroom to wash your face.

A knock on the door interrupted you mid-splash and you went to the door with a dripping face. “We’ve arrived!” your best friend Elouise or Eli for short exclaimed and hieved her whole baggage onto your bed. “What do you mean we?” you leaned your head out of the room and into the empty hallway. Just as you were about to close the door, feet pounded on the carpeted floor. “Sorry, sorry! Had to finish the call with hair and makeup.” Tris, your other best friend screamed through the halls, as she frantically came running towards you, phone clutched in one hand while the other held two dresses that flattered behind her.

You looked at her in amusement "Need a glass of water?" You chuckled at her heavy breathing and closed the door behind you.

"Oh yes please"

"Y/N you're so not ready...well lucky for you we are here. So hop hop go shower ma lady." Eli shushed you into the bathroom "and scrub every inch! I'll check if I have to!” You still heard their laughter as you get rid of your clothes and step into the shower. The warm water relaxed your muscles and your nerves immediately.

Several minutes later, now smelling like a goddess and wrapped into a soft white towel, you sat on the bed in your now crowded hotel room. While you were showering your nerves away, your dress, the hairdresser and makeup artist arrived.

“There she is!” greeted the makeup artist “Come sit down, we’ve got everything out and you and I already discussed your look. Are we still okay with it?”

“Yes, Carlos. But make everything as cry proof as possible okay?” you said laughing slightly.

“I also brought you a coffee and a croissant. I know you don’t usually eat something in the mornings but we don’t want you to faint now do we?” Tris held a tablet in front of her with several cups of coffees and something to eat. You took a cup gratefully, shooting her a quick thanks, holding the cup as Carlos started on your face and Melissa, the hairdresser started drying and styling your hair.

“Can I have my phone back?” You said to no one in particular.

“Nope, sorry.”

“Emi! What--It’s my phone!”

“I do know that. And you should know that Tris and I know you very well and you would’ve called or more likely face timed him by now and put a bad omen over the whole day.”

“Yeah. You and Charlie can’t be away from each other for long.” Tris acknowledged and sided with Emi.

“You’re just jealous that I’m in love.” You shot back with a smile and stuck your tongue out at your friends which in return gave you a growl from Carlos and Melissa who needed you to sit still.

After what felt like an eternity you were done and now it was time for your bridesmaids to get ready. They purposefully taped a piece of cloth over all mirrors so could only see yourself when you were 100% finished with getting ready.

Now that you had some time to actually think about today, your mind started to wander. Was Charlie ready by now or were there some complications? Tris did get a call earlier to then just run out of the room and come back 20 minutes later. What suit would he wear? Was he just as nervous as you? Totally unaware of how much time you passed, you were ripped out of your thoughts with a forceful swat on your shoulder.

“Miss Bride? It’s time to get the dress on.” Tris squealed.

You took a look at your best friends who looked absolutely stunning, at some time they got changed into their dresses. Emi smiled at you with a glossed lipped smile, her brown hair up in a bun while little strands of glitter strings framed her face. She wore a turquoise halter dress with some nude heels. Tris wore a bit of a darker turquoise strapless dress, her colourful hair falling straight over her shoulder. Both had simple makeup, a nude smokey eye with eyeliner.

Your eyes started to tear up. “Guys...you look absolutely stunning.” Emi walked over to you and embraced you in a hug. “We look really fudhing good but you’re gonna look even better. Now hop hop get undressed we have to lace up the dress.”

While your friends were working on lacing your dress up, you wondered out loud. “How much do we wanna bet that Owen lost the rings?” You chuckled and then yelled, “That's way too tight!”

“Oh Owen is so gonna lose the rings but we'll be fine. You’re gonna have rings or I'll run and get you some new ones.” Tris reassured you with a smile.

“Can I finally look at myself? I want to see if I look like a bride.” Emi and Tris shared a quick look before agreeing. Emi ripped the cloth away from the closest mirror. An audible gasp was all that was heard, everybody fixated on your reaction to yourself.

“I look like a real ass bride. I- oh my god… I look so good.” You coaxed out, trying not to cry, this got all a bit real too fast.

And you really did look amazing. Your open hair fell over your shoulders and ended right underneath your boob. It had a lot of volume and little glitter braids in it and Melissa had curled them to perfection so they framed your face perfectly. Your makeup was stunning as well, the reddish-brown and glittery smokey eye complementing your skin tone and eye colour. Carlos finished the look with a pinkish nude lipstick. You were glowing.

The cream coloured dress sat perfectly on your figure, the A-line cut highlighting your waist, the flowery lace flowing from the corset top down to your feet. The dress was poofy but not too much. You looked more like Sofie from Mamma Mia and less like Cinderella. You adjusted the straps and smiled at yourself.

“And I’m telling you, Charlie will bawl his eyes out when he sees you.” Emi patted your back and finished lacing up your dress. Tris couldn't contain herself anymore and let out a little sob “I’m sorry. You just look so gorgeous. I can’t believe you're getting married.” You pulled her into a hug.

“We don't have that much time anymore. the photographer should be here in five minutes to take your bridal pictures and pictures with the bridesmaids.”

The photo session went by quickly and you could tell that they turned out amazingly, by the way, Paul, the photographer, smiled at his screen. Megan, Charlie's sister and your other Bridesmaid came in at the last minute, due to the fact that she just flew in in the morning.

Then it was time for the first look. At first, you weren't sure if you should do this or if it would be better if the first look would be at the ceremony itself. You thought it would be funny to send Tris to the first look instead of you. So you, Megan and Emi sat in the hotel room waiting patiently.

The door opened “You two are really made for each other.” Tris came back in with a huge smile on her face. “Why? What happened?” You asked, the nervousness in your voice was evident. “Was he mad?”. She started to laugh “No absolutely not because he had the same idea as you and sent Owen.”

The room erupted in laughter “Oh no he didn't!” “Of course he did”

The next couple of hours flew by so quickly. You got to the venue. Your parents came by to say hello to you and to shed some tears. They also told you that most of the guests have arrived and everybody is waiting excitedly.

Finally, it was time. You nervously cracked your fingers, as you waited for all the guests to take a seat, the closed door in front of you the only thing shielding you from your fiance, your dad standing beside you in a suit.

“Nervous?” he asked you with a slight smile, you could tell that he was trying hard not to cry.

“Very. But I’m telling you if he doesn't cry I'll turn around and we gotta try again.” you joked.

“Oh my dear...he will.” he quickly took a look at his watch and then linked his arm with yours.

“Ready?” you shot him a smile and nodded “As ready as I'll ever be.”

The outside speakers started to play the instrumental version of Cherry Wine by Hozier and the doors opened.

It was mid-May and you and Charlie decided on an Outside wedding. After searching for a great venue you finally found one. It was an old brick house with a small colonnade of bushes in the garden. It was absolutely perfect but you didn't even look at the decorations because as soon as your eyes met his, the world stood still.

He stood at the front of the colonnade where some candles burned beside him. He wore a forest green tuxedo and that dashing smile of his. The closer you got, the more you saw how much he was crying and all you wanted to do is hug him and wipe the tears away. Your cheeks hurt from all the smiling but you couldn't stop, some tears of your own spilling out of the corners of your eyes.

You kissed your dad on the cheek and let him sit down in the front row, your eyes only momentarily leaving Charlies. “Hi, handsome.” You smiled up at him and instinctively used your thumb to wipe away some tears. “Did you cut your hair?” you asked, nodding to his now chin-length hair (think October Charlie) He grabbed your hands in his and kissed your knuckles while slightly nodding his head “You look...just wow,” he whispered so that only you could hear. You just wanted to give him a compliment when the officiant interrupted you.

“Now it's getting serious.” you said while he said “No backing out.” with a wink.

“The couple standing in front of me met at the young age of 18 in the middle of the street. Y/N bumped into Charlie here and practically fell for him right there and then. She shot him a quick sorry and went her way but the universe knew that these two needed to be together so the next day he bumped into her, totally accidental of course.” the crowd laughed and you and Charlie beamed at each other. “Sadly for Y/N that day she carried an expensive Cake that flew to the other side of the pavement. Charlie felt so bad that he promptly invited her to the next bakery where they got a cup of coffee and a new cake. Today we’re gathered here today to celebrate that love.”

“I believe that the two of you wrote your own vows? Y/N would you like to start?” You nodded and turned around to take a piece of paper from Emi who stood behind you, already missing the warmth of his hands in yours.

“Charlie, you know I’m not very good with words so I really struggled to write this, but here we are standing in front of your family and friends to share our love. I knew I loved you…” your voice wavered and you let out a sob “sorry...I knew I loved you in the first week that we’ve met. We sat on a bench in the little park right around the corner from where we met. You were late and totally out of breath when you arrived. You apologized like crazy but I didn't care, you don't know this but I had a really shitty day that day and just seeing you made it all worth it. That smile of yours knocked me off my feet completely.

From that day on I only loved you more and more. I love the way you try to wake up every day with a smile. The way you always seem to have so much energy and that you try to share that energy and love with the whole world. I love waking up in your arms because they feel like home and I miss you like crazy when I don't see you for a day.

I never really believed in love at first sight before I met you and I’m so glad that you ruined my cake. I promise to try and make you smile at least twice a day, to listen and care for you, to dance with you in the kitchen while our pizza is in the oven. I also promise to try your questionable food combinations at least once every time.

I can’t promise you that we won't fight or that we won't have our ups and downs but I will promise that we’ll work it out, that we’re not going to bed with grudges, to talk about our problems and thoughts and to always make up. I promise to be your partner in crime and to take all the blame if we ever get caught and lastly, and most importantly...

I promise to love you more and more until my heart stops beating, even when the day comes that we're old and grey, I promise to always see you with the same eyes and the same heart that I see you with at this exact moment.” You took a deep breath to try and stop your sobbing. Now it was Charlie's turn to wipe away some tears.

“Baby, don’t cry your makeup will get ruined.” he joked and you let out a small laugh. “Charlie, I believe now it's your turn to speak your vow.”

He took a shaky breath in before taking a folded piece of paper from the inside of his tuxedo pocket. “I want to start off with a simple I love you. I love the way you still give me butterflies every time I see you. I love the way you care not only for me but for everyone around you. I love the way you're patient with me. I love how much you're willing to try new things with me to make me happy because you really didn't like swimming with sharks. I admire how hard you work to help others and above all, I love how you love me.

It's in the way you look at me with such patience and compassion, the way you listen to me even if I'm rambling on, the way you push me to try harder even when I feel like I've done enough. You love me without judgment and chose to see the beauty in my flaws. Today, I want to make promises to you that I will always keep. I promise to love you back forever and harder each day. I promise never to get angry at you for making honest mistakes, even if I asked you to turn the lights off every night for the past week...

I promise to never stop holding your hand or give you a goodbye kiss. I promise to walk through life, as your biggest fan, your shoulder to lean on, and your best friend and I vow to stay silly, to never take ourselves too seriously, and stay just immature enough for cake and breakfast for dinner.

You're my soldier, my lover and above all, my best friend and I'm so excited to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Both of you were grinning and crying like idiots. “Now can we have the rings please?” the officiant asked the crowd and a teary-eyed Owen stepped forward the rings clutched in his hands.

“Thank you.” the officiant gave each of you a ring. “Do you Y/N Y/L/ want to take this man as your husband in sickness and in health?”

“I do.” You smiled up at Charlie and slid the ring on his left ring finger. “Oh good it fits,” you murmured and made him chuckle.

“And do you Charlie Gillespie want to take this woman as your wife in sickness and in health?”

“I do.” He grinned widely and also slid the ring on your left hand.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. Charlie, you may kiss the bride.” Your lips locked with his and you couldn't be happier. Your hands found their way into his hair while his hands gripped your waist. His lips were soft and warm and you missed them dearly in the night the two of you were apart. The crowd cheered when he dipped you.

“I present to you for the first time Mr and Mrs Gillespie!”

[nameless-shrimp]

SILENCE || CHAPTER THREE

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x F!Deaf!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sexual content.

Notes: okay, finally. chapter three. sorry for the wait. i love gojo satoru. really much. okay, enjoy.

previous chapter.

He ran into you again.

Satoru was patiently waiting outside the gates of the school, wondering where Geto was so that they could both make their way to meet Yaga for whatever mission that they would be assigned to for the day. He sighed, kicking his feet against small pebbles on the sidewalk. He knew that he couldn’t be late for another meeting with Yaga, though he was very moody for some type of pastry.

Then again, knowing who he was, he wasn’t surprised at his sudden cravings. Not bothering to wait for Geto, he decided to make his way to the bakery that was a few blocks away from the school.

As he walked down the sidewalk, he glanced around his school. It really did look like a religious school, though the average human would think that, and then Satoru continued to whistle his thoughts away (ranging from wondering where Geto could be to figuring out the kind of pastry he was craving—so was it chocolate croissants or maybe, a pecan pie today?) despite the stares he’d get from people that would walk past him.

It didn’t take him long to reach the bakery, where Satoru opened the door to find that the bakery wasn’t as busy, most likely because it wasn’t a rush hour kind-of-time.

Not that he was complaining, though.

Satoru took out his phone, deciding to scroll through his past images of him and Geto grabbing dinner the other night. (Half of them were blurry, most likely because Geto was trying to take his phone away before the brisket was gonna burn on the grill).

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but we don’t have anyone that knows sign language.”

The voice was audible, and it was the usual old lady that ran the bakery that caught his attention. However, he trailed his eyes up, gazing his attention to the lady he recognized before he minded his own business and he opened up some messages from Yaga-sensei, and as per usual, it had to deal with exorcising grade two curses.

Christ, a lot of this was starting to become tiring; at least, it seemed like a lot of people knew that Satoru was the strongest since everyone began to rely on him.

Someone in front of him left their position in line, so Satoru moved up a bit, scrolling through his phone as usual. He bit his bottom lip, wondering if he should’ve brought some lollipops with him so that he could’ve kept his cravings at bay.

“I appreciate you typing out what your order is on the phone.”

He looked up once again after taking a few steps forward, not minding the person in front of him as he was browsing the pastries. It seemed like the croissants were freshly baked a while ago, as expected from this place—it was the best; donuts sounded like a good option as well too. Sprinkles, icing, or maybe some sort of jelly filled treat. It really made him itch for a sweet, and he felt himself wrinkling his nose at the tasty thought.

“Gojo Satoru!” The old lady perked her voice out loud and Satoru shot a grin, waving at the lady who had her usual pink glasses and a bright smile on her face. It seemed like the person next to Satoru shifted a bit as they were fiddling with their wallet, though it wasn’t Satoru’s business.

“Hey Yuki,” Satoru greeted. “I’m not sure what I’m craving for today.”

“Would you like to try a red bean donut?”

“I’d like something sweeter,” he grinned.

The old woman chuckled, her laugh vibrating a large aura of positive energy—something that Satoru had always admired. “It’s no surprise coming from you. I can even make you a crepe if you want, you know? Chocolate and bananas?”

“Ah,” Satoru held up his phone, checking if Geto had texted him of his whereabouts, but it seemed as if Satoru had no update. He tapped his foot, debating if he should stay for some time to eat.

The person next to Satoru had dropped a couple of dollar bills in the tip jar, earning a welcoming source of gratitude from the lady. However, Satoru’s thoughts were interrupted once the sound of plastic bags had fallen to the floor.

Satoru looked down to see the customer that was next to him bend down to pick up the bags of bagels. He bent down to pick up two bags—it seemed like this person liked cinnamon raisin and plain bagels—and handed them off to them. “Here you go,” he sent off a generous smile.

The person in front of him tensed up and looked up at him, their hood had fallen down to their shoulders.

And—his breath hitched.

He didn’t know why, but it did. He wasn’t expecting to see you here out of all places, and it seemed a bit far out from the neighborhood you saw him at. Though, Satoru shouldn’t question it, because he did run into you at the nearby convenience store.

“Oh, hey,” Satoru knocked some of the confidence back in himself.

You glanced up at him and though you couldn’t see the color that was hidden beneath the black shades that were nearly at the tip of his nose, you could tell that he looked a bit surprised as well too. And Satoru knew that he was. Perhaps that he didn’t expect to come in contact with you but it shouldn’t have mattered anyway, you were nothing but a stranger to him that bumped into him late at night or that you were kind enough to offer him chocolate once before. It wasn’t that big of a deal and Satoru knew better than that, or at least, he thought he did.

He cleared his throat, smirk growing as if confidence had punched his gut and he straightened up his posture. “Nice seeing you here,” and his smirk grew into a cheeky grin.

Satoru’s flirty side was already making its way out and you couldn’t help but feel warm to your cheeks. And there it was; the sight that Satoru admired because it always fed deep into his ego enough to make him have that boisterous and barbaric personality, only because he knew that he was gorgeous and beautiful and handsome and outstanding in his own way. Getting these kinds of reactions were lighting the fire to burn inside him more; that arrogance that everyone was annoyed by yet for some reason, it was a part of Gojo Satoru.

“Yuki,” Satoru called out to the baker behind the counter as he watched you place your bought items in the plastic bag quickly—almost like you were nervous. “I will pay for this one’s orders.”

“How kind of you, sweetheart,” the old lady perked up a genuine smile and Satoru winked at you, where you gazed up at him and came to the realization that he was way too damn tall.

After Satoru had ordered some donuts to eat, he decided to ask you to sit next to him near the large window that had a perfect view of the street on the outside. He rested his chin on the palm of his hand, gazing at the owners walking their dogs and the small Beetle vehicle that was parked outside of the bakery.

Every once in a while, Satoru gazed at you, and you’d be lost in your own head as well, staring out at the world that was outside of the window. He wasn’t sure if you were too nervous to speak to him—and he wasn’t sure where this nervousness came from, but he really wasn’t complaining; after all, he had this kind of effect on women, anyway—due to the fiddling of your fingers on your cup of coffee or the times that you bit your bottom lip, looking hesitant to even face him.

But Satoru couldn’t lie to himself. For some reason, he found himself a bit tense.

And it had to be because you never spoke a word to him after your previous encounters together. That had to be it.

Seriously.

“So,” Satoru broke the silence, tilting his head as he bit into the chocolate glazed donut. This caught your attention as you finally forced yourself to make eye contact with him—or really, you were just staring at black sunglasses, but close enough—and he pursed his lips. “You don’t talk much, do you?”

You shook your head.

“I won’t annoy you with questions about it,” Satoru smiled politely at you before chewing the bite from the donut he took. “So,” he spoke with his mouth full for a moment before swallowing and continuing, “is there any way I can get to know you?”

You bit your bottom lip again and then reached for the phone that you had in your hoodie pocket. You began typing on the phone and then held it up for Satoru to see. His eyes adjusted to the bright screen as he read the text.

'My name is L/N Y/N. It’s nice to meet you. :)'

“Likewise,” Satoru responded, placing his donut down on the plate. “Gojo Satoru. We’ve ran into each other a few times before.”

You nodded.

“So you remember?”

You nodded again.

“At least I don’t look crazy, heh,” he chuckled awkwardly, unsure of how to properly have a conversation with someone that was not open to conversation. Satoru wanted to ask because he was used to having women touch his neck and beg for his attention all over, regardless of who it was—and there would be easy-going conversations here and there to break the ice, somehow.

But with you—clearly, you were different. And Satoru didn’t want to sound basic with that thought in his head. But you were—because you weren’t fucking speaking a word to him.

“Do you mind if I refer to your first name?” Satoru questioned, raising his brows. “You’re welcome to do the same to me—if you ever speak a word to me.”

You nodded, smiling a little bit.

Some progress was being made, at least.

“Y/N, I’m sorry if this offends you but—”

Before he could finish his question, you chuckled out loud, nearly spilling your hot coffee on the table and you waved your hand in front of him, trying to signal him to stop. You held up your pointer finger, informing him to hold it for a minute as you typed on your phone with your free hand quickly. Satoru raised a brow at this, but he knew that you were probably already answering his question—and really, he should’ve known you’d get asked this a lot.

You held your phone up to him.

'It doesn’t. Don’t worry. But I am deaf. I can’t hear.'

“Eh?!” Satoru fell back, completely confused by the text. He pointed at you while throwing his free hand in his tousled white hair. “H-Hold on, so how are you able to hear me?”

You fought back another chuckle before you turned to the side, parting your hair behind your ear where the visible sight of the implants in your ear were noticeable.

Satoru felt dumb. Because—duh, no fucking shit. Of course, hearing aids and cochlear implants existed.

“Oh, right,” Satoru pouted, pursing his lips playfully as he eyed the bakery in front of him. Suddenly, the green couches and the faint string lights were more of an interesting sight to admire—when really, he just felt pretty embarrassed. “My bad.”

You simply kept your smile and waved your hand around.

“So, do you not speak then?”

'I do. I just… don’t like the sound of my voice. I was born deaf.'

“I’m sure you sound cute,” Satoru grinned, completely satisfied with his compliment. And of course, you pushed your lips in a thin line and turned away, trying to hide the faint blush that was growing from your neck to your cheeks. The obvious light pink was a delightful sight for him to see; you didn’t realize it but you were definitely feeding his ego up, and Satoru liked it—a lot. “C’mon. You can talk to me, right?”

You bit your lip again and shook your head shyly.

He squinted his eyes a bit as he took note of your behavior. It seemed like you bit your lip a lot whenever you were in situations that made you timid. Satoru found this cute—or really, he wasn’t going to lie to himself, it was kind of hot. But he couldn’t say that kind of stuff to you, especially with how fragile you looked in front of him.

Satoru felt his phone vibrate and he realized that he received a message from Geto. With one glance, he realized that Geto had finally made it to the outside gates of the school.

He pouted. He wasn’t ready to leave you yet, but for some reason, he was interested in you. Satoru thought that you were someone he could play around with for some time—and yeah, maybe that was the move that he would be going for.

“Hey,” Satoru sighed deeply, pretending to act a bit disappointed—or well, he kind of was in reality, but he made it more dramatic than he really needed to. “Sorry Y/N. My best friend’s waiting for me somewhere. Do you think we can talk again?”

You nodded, smiling at him.

That bright smile of yours was contagious because he found himself smiling as well. It felt genuine, right, and he felt comfortable. Though no words ever came out of your mouth, he felt steady—which was good. It was a great start, actually.

“What’s your phone number? We should meet up more often,” Satoru suggested, a cheeky grin stretched out on his lips.

You exchanged numbers with him and he couldn’t lie to himself. He was thrilled—excited almost, and he wasn’t really sure why. Maybe it was because he scored himself another girl that he could possibly fool around with, but this wasn’t a surprise to Gojo Satoru. With that arrogant personality and beaming azure eyes that captivated the soul of others, he knew that he had it in him to get what he wanted.

Needless to say, the scent of freshly baked croissants never left his nose and for some odd reason, the picture of your smile couldn’t escape his head.

Once Satoru left the bakery, he was met with Geto, who was resting his back against the wall and he eyed his friend cautiously before he huffed a breath with a small smile on his lips. Clearly, he knew. “You got another girl’s number, did you?” Geto questioned.

“You got it.” Satoru snapped his fingers as he put his hands in his uniform pockets. “C’mon. You can’t act surprised.”

“Oh,” his closest friend rolled his eyes, dark hair swaying with the wind. “I’m not.”

“Really now?”

“Really.”

The mission was supposed to be quick and easy, at least that’s what Geto was informed about—and Satoru was informed as well. (But it wasn’t like the white-haired flirt even paid any attention to the messages or lectures that Yaga gives, anyway).

Staring up at the tall building in front of him, Satoru took one glance at his phone and scoffed at the messages from the previous girl he slept with, who was consistently texting him to come back to her place. He wasn’t interested anymore, clearly, and he had stated that numerous times.

Times like these were exhausting for him, but it made Satoru feel uneasy with himself, though he refused to admit it to himself no matter how many times he eyed himself at the mirror, admiring his own reflection but hidden beneath was someone that was afraid to open up about how he felt. And he always cared; it wasn’t like he didn’t—because he always did. It showed from his affectionate gestures with the women he slept with and how he’d always listened to them whenever they vented about their bad days before officially getting the chance to sleep with them.

Maybe he really was an asshole, toying around with their feelings. Yet, was he really? Satoru was lost in his thoughts—once again. The damn whirlwind of thoughts that seeped its way into moments when he needed to pay attention to the present the most, like the murmuring inaudible voice of Geto to his ears or feeling the presence of intense cursed energy coming from the building in front of him.

Geto turned to face his closest friend who was tucking his phone deep in his uniform pockets. “Another girl trying to hit you up again?” Geto asked, raising his brows.

Smirking to himself, almost as if he was the most charming prince, Satoru nodded and stretched out his arms. “Yeah, the last girl I fooled around with,” he explained before staring back at the building with the immense cursed energy that was radiating a few feet from the roof. “But it’s fine. I found someone else I can mess around with for the time being.”

Geto decided to take the first few steps to the building as Satoru followed behind. Geto shook his head and smiled to himself, allowing Satoru to furrow his eyebrows. “Can’t help but break more hearts, huh?”

“It's not my fault they fall for me. You know I always tell them I’m not someone that’s the commitment type,” Satoru scoffed. And Geto knew he was telling the truth too. “Hell, even you know that.”

“I know,” Geto responded. “You’re just something else.”

“What do you mean?” Satoru questioned, suddenly feeling a bit defensive.

“You’re a jujutsu sorcerer,” Geto stopped on his trail and then made a swift turn to face his friend with a serious look glued on his face. “You keep messing around with all these women. I know you don’t want a relationship, and you’re just being you but don’t play with me. Do these women even know that you’re a jujutsu sorcerer? Or, at least, you’re capable of the abilities that you have?”

Satoru didn’t say a word and he only looked away. Of course, Geto would question him, but now was not the time for a lecture. He shook his head and refrained from answering his questions, “we need to exorcise this little shit already,” Satoru groaned, walking forward.

“I’m talking to you,” Geto raised his voice.

“You’re not my parent,” Satoru huffed. “No, they don’t know. None of the girls I’ve been with knew about what I had or what I do or anything about me. I was just there to fuck and leave. I don’t even cuddle them or anything; I tell them these things. I always do.”

“It’s not about you telling them what you are and who you are and what you do,” Geto explained, crossing his arms. Seriously, Satoru couldn’t believe that this discussion was going on. He wanted this to wait for another time, but it seemed as if Geto didn’t have the patience—or rather, his mind was eager to know some things right here and there. “I’m curious. What if there is a time that you fall in love?”

Satoru held back a snort. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“It won’t. I can’t be in a relationship.”

“Why not?”

“Because—” Satoru groaned loudly, where the noise was audible enough to echo in the abandoned hall of the building that they had walked their way into. “Who would want to date a jujutsu sorcerer?”

“Ouch,” Geto chuckled lightly, placing a palm on his heart. “Are you telling me that I can’t get any action then?”

“You know what I mean,” Satoru shook his head before pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Unless the girl is a jujutsu sorcerer or can handle her own, then I can’t be in a relationship. Even if she was a sorcerer though, if she can’t be strong, then I don’t want her.”

“There you go, again.”

“What now?”

“Bashing on the weak,” Geto sighed, closing his eyes. “You understand that jujutsu sorcerers are here to help protect those that can’t see the curses or are too weak to exorcise them. But it doesn’t mean that there’s anything wrong with it, man.”

“Look,” Satoru snapped, letting his frustration show in the tone of his attitude. “I don’t have time to protect and babysit my girlfriend—if I ever have one, okay? I’m sorry. I just—fuck, can we talk later?”

Geto had a smug look on his lips. “Nah, let’s talk about this now.”

“We need to exorcise this little shit or else we won’t hear it from Yaga-sensei.”

“I know, but I find this more interesting.”

“Why you—” Satoru shook his head and then placed both of his palms on his cheeks. He felt his face fall into a flushed state; he knew exactly why he wouldn’t be able to be committed, and part of the reason would be that he was someone that really couldn’t protect the weak forever, let alone the person that he may end up with long enough to call his soulmate.

If that ever happened.

Satoru knew who he was as a person; he wasn’t going to let anyone get in the way of who he was, mostly because he believed he wasn’t capable of being in a relationship. The strongest and the idea of continuously protecting someone who was weaker than him seemed exhausting. It was a selfish thought, though he couldn’t blame himself; he mostly worried about himself rather than worrying and caring for another that wasn’t him.

Despite the obvious selfish thought, Satoru couldn’t find himself to let anyone close to him get in any dangerous situations. Even though he knew that—hypothetically if he did love someone—he wouldn’t let that happen, but he didn’t believe anyone should grave themselves in any bit of danger that the jujutsu sorcery life held, let alone an innocent person.

“Fine,” Geto placed his hands on his shoulders and stretched out his back. He let out a tired yawn before he glanced up at the stairs ahead, where the walls were cracked and the paint was chipped. Clearly, the building had been abandoned for quite some time, and Geto looked at Satoru with a pleasing smile. “But tell me about this new girl you’re trying to mess with.”

“Can it wait?” Satoru whined, portraying a playful pout as he bit his bottom lip that quivered.

“I don’t think so.”

“Man, alright,” Satoru sighed, placing one of his palms on the back of his head. “She’s really cute. She doesn’t talk at all, really—actually, she’s deaf.”

“What now?”

“She can’t hear,” Satoru explained, pointing at his ears and mouthing out words.

Geto looked at him with an irritated stare, clearly, a vein was popping out from his forehead and he huffed, “I know what being deaf means. But how are you even talking to her?”

“She talks on her phone and types out the words,” Satoru explained, scratching his head. “She has these implants or something that she wears and she talked to me about it today.”

“I take it that she doesn’t have many friends?”

“Man, I really don’t know.”

“And you’re gonna fool around with her feelings like that?”

Satoru whined, placing his palms on his flushed forehead. “Can we please talk about this later or something? I don’t wanna hold back on this mission.”

Geto had a smirk grow on his lips. “You actually want to get some business done, hmm?”

“Shut it,” Satoru said as he gritted his teeth.

“Fine, but this conversation isn’t over.”

“Fine.”

At least for now the conversation was over.

[hummingbird-of-light]

PART 23 ~ Scotty

They didn’t drive very far because Scotty suddenly longed to visit a familiar place.

“Ye know… I’m actually not that hungry. How ‘bout we grab something in the coffee shop over there?”

He knew the cafe which also sold books. He often visited it with his co-worker and friend Keenser. The small elderly man had become a close person to Scotty over the years. Of course his name wasn’t actually Keenser, but since he was one of the most keen-eyed engineers the nickname had basically made up itself. Scott really liked him. The man could listen all day long to all kind of problems.

“Is that the coffee shop you usually visit during your break?”

Khan drove into the next best parking lot and Scotty nodded. Of course his boyfriend knew everything about his job and free time. After all, he wanted to protect him from dangers, right? So he had to know his whereabouts.

“Yes, they have great tea and pastries.”

They got out of the car and entered the cafe, a bell announcing their arrival.

“Let’s sit over there, shall we?”

Scotty pointed at a table in the back. He knew that his boyfriend wasn’t much of a fan of sitting at the window. Too many people to watch them.

Khan gave him a nod and they sat down. Soon enough a young man came over to them, a tablet computer in his hands.

“Hello gentleman, what can I get you?”

The accent gave away the lad’s Russian origin immediately. Not that Scott didn’t know him already.

“I will have an Earl Grey and a croissant,” Khan ordered his food and Scotty was just about to say what he wanted when the door opened and someone stepped in.

“I want-“

He couldn’t help but stare at the man entering.

‘Impossible!’

It was no other than Dr. McCoy.

PART 24 ~ McCoy

McCoy left the hospital at a quick pace. He normally preferred a slower stroll, but today a brisk pace matched his churning emotions.

Could he have done more for Mr. Scott? Could he have said something else that would have made the man open up? How was he supposed to push the man out of his thoughts?

How had the man wormed his way so quickly into McCoy’s heart?

Before he realized it, he was at the cafe. Lost in his thoughts, he pushed the door open and looked at his preferred table. It was open, so he went and sat.

McCoy didn’t usually prefer to sit near the front of a restaurant, but on the off chance he got called to run back to the hospital, sitting near the door was easiest.

“Hey Bones!” The owner of the cafe clapped him on the shoulder. Somehow, Jim the owner, had decided he was McCoy’s best friend.

“Hey kid,” McCoy answered, dazedly.

“Whoa, you alright?” Jim asked. He sat down at the table with McCoy. “You didn’t lose a patient did you?”

McCoy shook his head at Jim.

Hadn’t he though? He felt a pang in his chest.

“You want your usual?” Jim asked.

“Sure kid.”

“I’ll brew you a fresh pot. You want some company today? It’s pretty slow right now.”

McCoy managed a smile at Jim. He knew the man meant well.

“Yeah, that might be nice, thanks.”

“Alright,” Jim said getting up. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

McCoy rested his face on his hands and his shoulders slumped. How was he going to get over this? Even now the memory of Mr. Scott’s smile shone in his mind.

“Hey Scotty! Didn’t see you come in,” Jim said loudly from the back of the cafe. “How are you?”

McCoy’s attention was caught at the name and his head whipped around as he caught the brogue that answered.

Mr. Scott was sitting near the back with his boyfriend. McCoy turned quickly back to the window and a flush climbed his face.

[d-targaryenshoe]

First Fire • Jackson Avery

Requested?: Yess! Once again by the amazing @lorenakaspersen

Summary: Y/N is seeing a hot firefighter but what happens when her ex, a hot surgeon is seeing her again at an unexpected moment?

Warnings: Miranda Bailey being Miranda Bailey, kissing

Word count: 1414

"We can't keep this secret, you know that right?" Jack mentioned, pointing between the both of you before he threw a shirt over his head, noticing you staring through the curtains. "I don't want to keep this secret."

"I don't want to move to fast, we'll do everything on time." You turned around watching him frown at your answer. As things were going great between the two of you.

"We can move slow, but not too slow." He replied, placing his arms around your waist, leaning his forehead on yours. "I like you, a lot."

"Just give me time." Placing your hands on his chest, you slightly peeked up from under your lashes. Breaking the moment and gathering your stuff.

"I'll give you time, space, anything you want, but don't leave me, okay?" You heard the thrilling in his voice, meaning what he was saying.

"I never said I was, I just need time." You crossed your arms, pulling open the door of the room as you strolled out, accidentally bumping shoulders with Maya Bishop.

The one person who could sense when something was wrong with you. And the one person who would keep asking you what's wrong until you'd spill it.

"Well, you look like you're in a hurry? We're only starting in 20 minutes." The blonde woman wondered, adjusting her shoelaces, leaning on a chair. "Let me guess, it's Gibson huh?"

Leaning your head against the wall, Maya got the confirmation of her question as she walked over to you, giving you a knowing look.

"If you're not ready for something new, tell him. I know you ever since you came in here. I know you Y/N. When you're scared, you run." Placing a hand on your shoulder, she noticed your frown turning into a normal face.

"It's not that I'm not ready, I just don't want to fall in love too fast." Because that was the thing that got you in trouble before all this. And it hurt a lot. It still did a little bit. "Not right now."

Maya nodded, pulling you in for a hug, leaning her head on top of yours, knowing that this was something you could use. A lot.

"It'll be okay, I'm here, we're all here. Just scrap Ben Warren because the last time he helped you, you got in trouble." Finishing her sentence she gave you a small smirk.

"Oh come on, those tequilas were too good just to let them stand there, they were calling me?" You groaned, releasing a laugh, remembering the moment.

"Because you were drunk as hell Y/L/N." And it was. You were. Very much to be exact. Okay no, you were totally wasted.

"Hey Y/N, you ready?" You made a little jump, noticing Jack behind you, while Maya gave him an observing glance. "We should go."

"I'm coming with you, guys" Maya gave you a small wink, telling you in a quiet way that everything was going to be fine.

Walking towards the hallway, you noticed a small black female figure, adjusting a tall man his uniform. And you already knew who it was.

Seeing Ben pointing at you, you already prepared yourself for what was about to come. Within a few seconds Miranda turned around.

"Thank god, I was waiting for your behind to show up, since your the only female firefighter who gets me." Miranda babbled, moving her hand in the air, like it was obvious. "And bonds with me over food."

"The woman won't stop nagging my ears of, she's all yours Y/L/N." Ben sighed, clapping your shoulder before walking off.

"Did you just hear that, did I marry that?" Miranda joked, watching Maya and Jack have their own conversation while you were just dazing off. "Who are we even waiting on, I'm a busy surgeon, I'm hungry."

"If im not mistaken, we're waiting on Vic and whoever she's bringing this week." You replied, taking a hold of your belt, taking in your surroundings.

"Vic? The one girl who got her head stitched up by Avery at the hospital two weeks ago?" Miranda questioned, placing her hand on her hip. "I don't like her, no offence, okay never mind a little bit offence."

Miranda couldn't help it but she just had a great friendship with you. The two of you were there for one another. Sure Maya was one of your friends. But Miranda was always the perfect shoulder to lean on.

Anytime. Any day. Anywhere. Anyhow. She was there. Although she had a busy job. It never kept her away of giving her patient to someone else, and giving you a pep talk. In Miranda style, to be more precise.

"Hey guys, listen sorry I'm late, don't start with giving me the 'you knew we were waiting' talk, I had things to do. More exactly waiting for my boyfriend to come over here. So don't."

Following the voice, you pointed your head in the direction and noticed Vic, playfully glaring at all of you, in a nervous way.

"Maybe you should just stop talking, and tell us who your boyfriend is, I'm hungry." Miranda piped up, slightly bumping your shoulder.

"Well, that was a little bit rude, but he'll be here soon." Vic mentioned, noticing Miranda's uninterested stare. "Stop staring."

"Or what?"

"Ben? Keep your wife under control, please?" Vic asked, looking at the dark man in the distance, who just gave her two thumbs up in a sarcastic way.

"Vic, how many times did I tell you to-" the sentence was cut silent as you noticed two blue eyes staring in your direction and a mouth slightly open as no words were spoken. "Holy-"

"I'm just gonna go back there and pretend this is all a nightmare." You whispered, swallowing hard as you saw your ex standing right in front of you after months. "Because you being here, is a nightmare."

"Wait, hold on, you two know each other?" Vic frowned, placing down two glasses on the information desk. "Jackson?"

"She is uhm- she's an old friend." The words rolled of his lips with a tone of confusion, hoping his girlfriend would believe it.

"A friend who shared the same bed with him, showered with him, lived with him?" You rambled, clasping your hands at him and throwing a sarcastic smile in Vic's way. "And who met his daughter, yep I'm an old friend."

"This is getting better and better." Miranda mumbled as little pieces of crust from a croissant covered her upper lip, getting a glare from Ben. "What? Not good?"

"You're his ex?" Vic gave you a small glare, pointing at Jackson who was now wishing he wasn't there at all. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Oh well, hey Victoria, I'm Jackson Avery's ex, but hey I hope you two have a good time!" You sarcastically acted, getting glances from across the room. "Is that what you wanted?"

"Stop. We need to talk." Jackson voice sounded through the room, grabbing your hand and coming to a halt in the hallway. "A room we can talk?"

Not saying a word. You just raised an eyebrow at him before nodding your head to the left, opening the door.

"Was that necessary?" He frowned, locking the door watching you walk around in the room as if nothing just had happened. "The little acting work?"

You shrugged at the man, looking him in the eyes. "I'm screwing my colleague, I'm scared to fall in love again and I can't get over you, so you tell me?"

"Y/N don't do that." Jackson held up a hand, noticing you walking closer to him, giving him the signature puppy eyes. "We can't."

Removing your belt and throwing it on the small table next to you, you glanced up to him. "We can't do what?"

"You know very well what I mean Y/N." He replied, rubbing his forehead before bringing his eyes back to yours. "I'm with Vic, we can't."

Placing your hand on the back of his neck, you stared at his lips before looking back into his eyes. "The door is locked, there's no Vic, you're all by yourself."

Before you could say one word, you felt a soft surface being placed on your lips and a hand on the back of your neck.

"I thought you said, we couldn't." You breathed, staring up at the man you still loved.

The only answer you got were two lips being placed on yours. Once again.

And no one knew.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 185

185

   Having Hunk pick him up, Keith knew things could go terribly wrong. He didn’t like loud noises or crowds at the best of times, and now he was going shopping with guaranteed exposure to both. Leaving Lance a note, he told himself he was being stupid for worrying. This wasn’t his first trip into Garrison, but it was his first trip into Garrison since his accident.

  Hunk was happy to help. He didn’t question Keith wearing glasses, or why the headphones covering his ears weren’t playing music. Trying to make him feel at easy, his friend chatted about how things had been at garage, with the parts they’d been waiting on finally coming in. Hunk’s dad had been pretty worried about him, Keith didn’t know he’d made so much of an impression.

  Garrison seemed so different now. Maybe because it was blurry, but it also carried a different feel about it. The drive seemed shorter too, less bumpy, though Lance needed to get in touch with the shire about fixing the dip in his driveway. Hunk hitting it a little too hard and making them both lurch. Parking in front of the general store, Keith’s anxiety skyrocketed at the task ahead of him.

  “Uh, Keith. Are you okay? If it’s too much, I don’t mind going in”

Glancing to his hands, his nails were a little longer than they should be. Hunk had every right to be concerned

“I’m kind of... freaking out now where here”

Honesty seemed to be the theme of the day

“Man, we can totally take it as slowly as you need”

Was he doing the right thing? Coming here without Lance, he hoped to surprise him in a good way

“I know... Hunk, can I ask you something?”

“Sure thing, man. You can ask me anything”

“Is Lance going to be mad?”

Hunk hummed

“Not the way you think. I think he’ll be shocked he wasn’t here, but I don’t think he’ll be mad. Unless you do something super bad”

  Like wolfed out in the middle of the store? He hated the paranoia that he would

“I... um... had a talk with Coran. About this ego thing. He said it’d help to do nice things with Lance... and... um... I guess I’m worried about that. I don’t know how to tell him that I want to do this for him, and that it’ll help my ego, without upsetting him”

“Dude, you’ve always been doing nice things for Lance”

“But I feel like this is using him to calm myself down”

“That’s one way to look at it. The other way to look at is that you both deserve something nice. You guys don’t exactly have a normal life. Not that there’s anything wrong with it, but you know...”

  His ego was pleased to hear that he and Lance deserved niceness. Keith still felt guilty

“I don’t want him to think I’m using him”

“Maybe you could tell him? He’d understand”

Lance kept being so understanding that it had to weigh so heavily on his shoulders. The vampire his carer, his stability, and growing their twins. The burden seemed more than unfair

“He’s been too understanding as it is. I just... don’t like feeling like there’s two mes in here. I don’t like the idea of doing something that I know he’ll love, but doing it because it also benefits me”

Hunk patted Keith’s knee

“Bud, you really should tell him. But for now, if you’re going to wolf out, can you please aim for Miss Lee in the bakery department? She’s committed crimes against humanity with her croissants. You could use them for a hammer”

“Sounds about as good as what I’d make...”

“I’ll give you a crash course this afternoon, Bud. It’ll all be okay”

   The feeling of this being a horrible mistake grew with Keith’s first breath in the store. He should have worn a mask. Everything was... smelly. The lights seemed way too bright, and his stomach rumbled at the scent of meat department. Not that they really had departments, they just had staff that hovered in certain areas. Retail could only suck as a job. People sucked. His opinion there hadn’t changed much when it came to strangers. Grabbing a trolley, Hunk came to his side

“You okay? We totally don’t have to do this if you aren’t up to it”

Overwhelmed, Keith growled

“What kind of a mate would I be if I can’t provide for my partner?”

Hunk ignoring his growl, staying by his side

“Alright then, we’re going to ignore what happened. Do you have a list?”

Lists were for normal people, they were winging it from here on out

“Not really. I want to get things Lance likes”

Hunk cuffed a hand on his shoulder, gesturing ahead to the rows in front of them as if it was some kind of wonderland

“That I can help you. Just let your best buddy guide you”

    Hunk guiding him was an experience. Keith had a hard time keeping his control. The local rumour mill was in overdrive. Lots of busybodies whispering about how since he’d come to town Lance had been seen less and less. Whispers of concern about what kind of person he was hurt. A few had some very unkind things to say about the kind of relationship he was in with Lance. Keith ready to blow a fuse. They knew nothing about him or Lance. Not the true versions of themselves or their relationship. Lance would doing everything he used to be doing if he hadn’t gotten his boyfriend pregnant. He knew his boyfriend missed breakfasts at Sal’s, and normality of running his household as he had. They had no right to be spreading baseless rumours. Unexpectedly, Shiro came to mind. “Patience yields focus”. If he was patient for a little while longer he could focus once they got home.

  Shopping the way Lance had driven into him and Shiro, Keith shopped in bulk. Gradually a plan came to mind, but he was going to seriously need Hunk’s help to pull it off. The first meal he’d mostly cooked alone for the both of them was pizza. He’d made a mess of things, yet Lance still complimented him in his own way

“Hunk, I’ve... um... got an idea”

Hunk placed back the bag of onions he’d been staring at

“Shoot away”

“Can you show me how to make pizza from scratch?”

“Pizza? I thought you wanted to spoil Lance?”

Hunk made it sound awful, yet Lance loved cheesy things... He have to save that and use that... cheesy pizza for a cheesy vampire

“I... um... it was one of the first things we made together”

  Had this been a cartoon, Hunk would have had love hearts in his eyes

“Oh, bro! I’ve totally got you. We’ll make him the best pizza ever!”

Hunk loved love as much as Lance. He knew he could count on him, but Keith wasn’t sure his own efforts would be up to scratch

“I’m not sure that’s possible”

Hunk snorted at him, picking up another bag of onions to start scrutinising

“Pfft. You’re getting the Hunk crash course. Nothing will go wrong”

  As Keith watched the way Hunk stared at the onions, he realised he hadn’t asked the man a very important question

“Hunk, are you okay?”

The bag of onions went back, Hunk picking up another one. Keith wasn’t seeing whatever Hunk was seeing, but he didn’t know the signs or symptoms of a bad onion like Hunk did

“Hmm?”

“I don’t seem to remember a lot of that day... but... I haven’t asked you how you’re going. With... all of this. It’s a lot for anyone”

“You and Lance...”

  Keith shook his head. This wasn’t about him and Lance. Hunk and Pidge were humans... he’d been human, but he had a whole other set of skills and years of experience

“That’s not what I’m asking. I know you came to visit me... you and Pidge. I’m sorry I didn’t wake up”

Hunk shifted his weight, free hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck

“Dude, you were in a coma... you have an excuse”

That wasn’t it. He’d failed this hard. A blush in his cheeks as his ego grew annoyed at him

“It’s because of you and Pidge that Shiro escaped and Lance got help. You guys really helped. I know it’s not the same as a fighting a demon, but, um... What I’m trying to say is, it’s okay to not be okay. If you feel like you were useless, you weren’t. Watching on the sidelines is hard. We really would have been screwed without you guys”

  Placing the bag of onions in the shopping trolley, Hunk let out a long sigh

“It was rough buddy. Lance tried really har to be okay when we came to visit. But he wasn’t. Then Shiro and Lance weren’t talking. We didn’t want to pick sides, and Lance told us not to, but he was crushed. We felt useless. The two of you were prepared to face a demon. We couldn’t do anything like that”

He’d known it. Being unable to act fucking sucked, but he and Lance couldn’t techno-babble like Hunk and Pidge could. They’d have only hindered things

“You don’t have to. And I don’t want you to. You’re important to me. Both you guys”

“None of got it. You were like... fine. Then next thing you’re in surgery and won’t wake up. We thought we’d lose you forever, Bud”

“Do you hate what I’ve become?”

  Hunk shook his head, his eyes watery. Hunk really was sunshine in their lives

“No. No, you’re still you. A bit different but a lot the same. Shiro was really torn up. His arm was a mess, Curtis was in and out of it, but he lost it at the thought of you not waking. He blamed himself. He didn’t exactly help things either. I got it out of Allura, but she says that he said he’d take care of Lance. Like in your place if you didn’t wake up. Not boyfriend’s, but you know, like financially. Lance was pissed”

“If there’s one thing Lance hates, it’s being treated like a damsel in distress”

“We were really worried for him. We didn’t know he didn’t know about your condition and they kicked us out because we upset him”

“He cares too much”

Hunk huffed at him

“Dude, we all care too much. We’re family. You’re our family. And like... we didn’t know what to do if you didn’t wake up. He lost Mami... and I know it’s selfish but I prayed you’d wake up so we wouldn’t lose him too”

  Lance would be broken if anything happened to any of them

“It’s not selfish. I would have been wishing for the same thing. He loves you guys. I didn’t get it. How he could love and trust. But he just has a way about him. The people he likes, he really likes. He was probably a nightmare to deal with”

“Man, you have no idea. Pidge upset him by saying she was on his side. We couldn’t even... We let him down”

“Hunk, I’m sure that’s not true”

“He came out to tell us you’d woken up... and he... we were so upset that we didn’t move to comfort him. Allura did what we couldn’t”

You never knew how you were going to react to grief or bad news. Hunk and Pidge weren’t used to it. They hadn’t seen what he had, and Allura had

“She is like a sister to him. Thank you for being there for him”

  Never shy of a hug, Hunk wrapped his arms around him, lifting Keith off the ground then setting him back down

“Sorry, man! Was that too much?”

A little. Definitely when people were already talking about him...

“Nah. You sure you got the right bag of onions?”

Hunk took a moment, before looking to the bag

“Oh, yeah. Gotta be careful not to get the ones with a rotten onion”

“How can you tell?”

“If they’re brown, or grey, and squashy, they don’t want to come home with you”

But the onions had skin and the skin was brown?

“Onions are brown?”

“My man, for the sake of our friendship, I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that”

Keith wrinkled his nose at the bag

“It’s not my fault I don’t know the difference. They smell...”

Hunk didn’t miss a beat

“Yep. They smell delicious with a little bit of olive oil and garlic in a pan”

   With three wolves to consider, the shopping trolley ended up overfilled. Matt and Rieva getting minimal treats due to the ongoing saga of the rice. Hunk had helped him find the “self care” part of the isle, Keith grabbing two of each face mask, which sounded more impressive if you didn’t take into account the fact there was only three types to choose from. Hunk also pointed out Lance’s preferred wax for doing his eyebrows, and the hand cream Lance found worked best. With the amount of mating his body wanted to do, Keith stocked up on lube and condoms, then wet wipes for afterwards. After all, Lance didn’t like being crusty. The large half-Samoan a godsend, especially when Keith got caught staring at the meat blood in the bottom of a tray of mince. The blood would probably be worse for Lance than the bags he drank.

  Keith hadn’t realised he probably looked weird examining the tray. Yet it wasn’t simply the blood issue that had him staring. He wanted to bury his face in the mince and eat raw, which totally grossed him out. Hunk pulling the tray away from him, giving him such a concerned look that Keith couldn’t not tell him that Coran wanted Lance drinking fresh blood. A little grossed out, but with a truck load of courage, Hunk volunteered his own blood. Lance had drunk his blood before. It’d solve more than one issue... His ego instantly hated the idea. If Lance was to feed off of everyone, it should be him. He was his mate. So turning Hunk down felt both right and wrong at the same time. He hated these conflicted feelings.

  Things were going well until they finally reached the queue for the checkout. Having a stranger bump into him, his fingernails turned to claws as he barely kept from body slamming the person down. Realising how close he’d come, Keith was filled with horror. A scratch or a bite and he’d have turned them. Too much rage and he would have mauled them. Who would have stopped him? Hunk? Hunk would be the first casualty after the altercation. His loving ways would have made him blind... or maybe he would have tried to save the victim’s life as Keith tore both of them to shreds... He’d tried so hard to keep his temper. He’d chewed up the inside of his mouth to keep his rage from escaping. The humming of the fluorescent lights above left an unscratchable itch beneath his skin. Fumbling his phone and his wallet out his hoodie, he shoved them both into Hunk’s hands, fleeing before his friend could question if he was okay or not.

   Carried by momentum, and the need to be somewhere so many people weren’t, Keith nearly managed to get himself hit as he stepped off the pavement in front of a car that was parking. Darting past them, he didn’t want to be in town in more. He wanted Lance. Too scared of himself to care about the consequences of leaving Hunk behind. He’d been stupid to come to town. To think he would blend in. To think that he had some semblance of control over his ego. Before he knew it, he’d cut through the park in the centre of town, his rushing turning to running. Everyone left him. No one would want to stay with him. Not when he couldn’t control himself.

    *

Lance had spent the better half an hour driving around Garrison in the search for his boyfriend, before he finally found Keith. He’d woken when he’d heard Hunk pull up, the slamming of the passenger door startling out of his sleep. Listening to Keith and Hunk making plans to go shopping, Lance worried for Keith, yet knew if Keith wanted to go he shouldn’t stick his nose in.

  Wracking his brains, Lance didn’t know the route Keith too when he’d gone with Matt and Rieva. If Keith was avoiding people, then he wouldn’t be headed to Platt. If anything had gotten too much, he’d want to go where no one went, yet somewhere he knew enough to get home from. Looping through Garrison, Lance hit up all the places they’d visited in their past, each crossed off the list as he cursed himself for his stupidity. People. No people. Hunk had been panicked when he’d called, apologising over and over, Lance sending him to the house to wait with the promise Hunk would call if Keith showed up. Then he remembered. The cemetery. No one was there. And if Keith was feeling down, it was logical, to him at least, he’d go somewhere they’d made good memories to overthink things.

   Parking at the front of the cemetery, Keith was sitting sadly on the closest bench. Having to slide out his bronco as he tried to suck his stomach in, it really wasn’t made for a heavily pregnant man to be driving around

“Keith?”

Snapping his head up, tears were running down Keith’s face. In his hands were the pair of glasses Lance had lent him, smashed beyond repair. Going to stand, Keith slumped back down as he let out a sob. Lance’s heart breaking at the sight. He should have just gotten up and stuck his nose in.

  Waddling to his boyfriend, Keith looked away, Lance sitting down next to him. No matter how much his little anger loaf was angsting, he wasn’t about to leave Keith to his misery. His boyfriend had terrified him by taking off. He’d been scared to begin with, when Keith hadn’t taken off. He was good at that... but then, so was Lance

“Hey, you”

“What do you want?”

“Me? Oh, just thought I’d come hang out with the other stiffs when I saw this super handsome guy sitting here”

Keith snorted wetly at him. His whole body curling in. Whatever Keith was thinking, he’d well and truly overthought it

“Babe, want to tell me what happened?”

“Why? You already know”

  Biting down a sigh, Lance wrapped his arm around Keith, pulling him against him

“Ego or overstimulation?”

Bitterly Keith muttered

“I’m a fucking monster”

“It was your first shopping trip”

“It’s not that! It’s everything! You don’t get it!”

Hurling the broken pair of glasses away, they hit the side of the Bronco. A pretty good throw as far as Lance was concerned

“Then tell me. Hunk said a stranger bumped into you and you freaked out. I’ve spent the last half hour trying to find you”

“You should have left me lost. I’m such a fuck up that it’s not even funny”

  This time Lance did sigh

“You are not a fuck up. I know you’re angry right now, but I’m here because I want to be. Tell me what happened?”

Keith huffed as he shoved him off. Getting to his feet, his boyfriend threw his hands up

“What didn’t fucking happen?! I fucked you! I didn’t want to stop fucking you! Coran said that my ego wants to please you! I’m supposed to do nice things for you! I don’t know how to do nice things! Everything feels like I’m fucking using you! I tried to go shopping with Hunk and everyone was rude as fuck! Some fucking arsehole bumped into me and I wanted to tear his fucking throat out! Why don’t you leave me already?! Everyone one else does! What makes you so fucking special?!”

  All of it came out as yelled word vomit, Keith trying to get every thought out at once so they were all halted when it came to explanation. How did he untangle this? Keith was mad they had sex? Okay. He could work this out. Keith was feeling what he felt whenever his damn heat hit, or symptoms decided to creep up like the unwanted bastards they were. Keith didn’t like his ego... He knew that. As for people in his personal space, he wasn’t immune to it

“Keith, come sit down”

“Why should I? I wanted to hurt that guy and I don’t even know them!”

  Lance looked at “Keith’s Scary Face”. Fangs, yellowing eyes... still handsome and the man he loved. He’d definitely drawn the short straw when it came to scary faces

“You don’t think I haven’t the same? That I welcome people in my space? Someone gets close to you and I want to hurt them. Someone bumps into me and my ego instantly sees them a threat. The fact you didn’t turn, that’s a good sign. It was your first time and you’re not going to get everything perfect on the first try”

“What if I’d lost it? What if hurt Hunk?! You don’t...”

  Not this shit again. No. Nope. Noooo. He’d had enough of hearing it. Keith was freaking the fuck out... like he’d never seen Lance freak the fuck out over the same kind of things... His anger loaf needed to be smacked

“I couldn’t possibly get it, could I? I’m well aware. You’ve been repeatedly telling me. The fact you haven’t run off must mean you’re willing to talk, at least with me. Hunk’s at home. You’re making more sense than you think you are, and there’s no one else going to come find us here. Now sit down and start from the start”

  Keith scowled at him before sighing heavily and throwing himself back down next to Lance. Taking Keith’s hand in his, he interlaced their fingers so Keith couldn’t go escaping again, his boyfriend shaking his head as he looked to his feet

“I think I’m going crazy”

“Tell me what happened?”

“You. You happened. I felt like I used you yesterday and last night because I was horny and couldn’t calm down. When I rang Coran, he wasn’t much help. He said it’s my ego and it’s probably trying to make it up to you for not spending the moon with you. I know I like doing nice things for you, but he said if I did it’d also help with my ego and I felt like I was using you all over again. I don’t want to do nice things because my ego tells me to. I want to do nice things because I love you”

  Lance’s ego damn near swooned. Keith was so sincere in his worry

“Is that why you went to town with Hunk?”

“Coran mentioned that grooming was a thing we could do and I have no idea how to make a face mask or what to do. So I thought I’d get a few things and do some shopping, but it was horrible. Everyone kept whispering about us. The lights were too bright... and there were so many smells”

“Oh, babe. Hey, you can’t help being overwhelmed”

“But... I... I really wanted to do this. And do this right. Hunk helped me out picking things out. Then when that guy bumped into me...”

Lance pulled Keith firmly against him as his boyfriend shook with a fresh wave of tears

“You got scared because of the sudden burst of anger...”

“I don’t know what I was thinking... I’m a monster. I wanted to...”

“Babe. No. Hey. You are not a monster. That was your ego. You couldn’t help it. You should be proud you tried. It took Mami months to coax me into coming places with her. It’s not easy. You see too much. You hear too much. Things smell way too much”

“But you...”

  Kissing Keith’s hair, he couldn’t fix this for is boyfriend. He wished like heck he could

“I’ve been a vampire for a very long time. Scents, people, lights, they all still get to me. Especially being pregnant. The paranoia of people staring. People judging. It sucks. It really really sucks. But you know what, they don’t know me. They aren’t my friends so I’m not going to worry about them”

“I hate this. I don’t want to pick fights...”

“I know. Small towns are horrendous when it comes to rumours. And I know you hate what they say as much as I do, but we can work on things to help you get used to everything again”

“We shouldn’t have to. If I’d never had this brain bleed... you wouldn’t have to babysit me”

“Is it still babysitting the person when you love them? Babe, how many times have you told me it’s okay when my heats play up? How many times have we had sex where I’m sorry for forcing my messed up body on you? Every single time you tell me it’s okay. It’s okay that you’re feeling them too. It’s okay to want me. I don’t hate you and I don’t feel used because this is something we’re working through together. Think about all the inappropriate times and places it’s happened. You stood up for me and defended me. You protected me when I couldn’t look after myself. You pushed yourself out of your comfort zone to be with me. Both our egos have issues. You’re not using me. I want to do nice things with you. I want to do things that make you and your ego feel good too. I know you love me and respect me”

  Keith raised his head

“You’ve been so tired lately. I felt like I pushed you too much”

If anything Lance was sleeping more because of his pregnancy, not stressing over Keith because he’d been doing that for months now

“I’m tired because I have to get up and pee like 10 times a night. These two seem to think my bladder is their personal trampoline”

“Coran says you need fresh blood... I don’t know if I can give you my blood or if it’s going to hurt the twins”

  With how much blood had passed between them, and the biting and the scratching, if anything bad was going to happen to the twins it probably would have happened all ready

“We’ll work something out. You’re taking so much on. Trying to be perfect with everything the first time around. Life doesn’t work like that. I know you’ve been comparing yourself to Matt. Thinking you must be weak because he’s calm, but think about when we first met? Think about how we had to fight to settle both our egos. I’ve been thinking about this just now and I think I’ve worked something out. Coran said to do things to help your ego settle. Matt and Rieva do things too. Rieva takes pride in her appearance and she loves her books. Matt is a tech genius and a tinkerer. That’s probably what they do to soothe theirs. They play on your strengths”

  Keith’s head dropped

“What if I don’t have any strengths?”

“You do. You’re kind. You help people. You save lives. But I know you’re not working right now, so maybe you can concentrate on the strength of our feelings for each other? On our family? Vampires don’t take mates, but I already knew I wanted to be with you forever before this. Plus... it’s... kind of nice that you want me, even when I look like this. You make me feel so loved. I just wish you’d see that it’s a two way street. I adore you. You’ve seen me lose it to my ego when you’ve been hurt or threatened. Egos aren’t tameable over night. I know you don’t like taking it slow, but I’ll be right beside you”

“What if I can never go shopping again?”

“You didn’t love it that much in the first place, babe. Never is a strong word. Next time I’ll be with you”

“You can’t always be with me”

“No. But baby steps, babe. I love you. I’m proud to be your boyfriend. That hasn’t changed. This set back, doesn’t change anything. You told me time and time again that I’m not a monster. If you really were a monster, you wouldn’t feel as bad as you do”

  Keith chuckled at him

“Have I ever told you how annoying it is that your right most of the time?”

Lance kissed Keith’s hair again. His anger loaf was so sweet

“Yep. You really worry too much. Yes, I’m exhausted, but I’m nervous and terrified too. Every day is a day closer to giving to birth. I’m so scared about being a bad dad, but I know I have the best partner in the world to help me through it. We’ve got time. Let’s not rush it”

“I scared Hunk”

“Maybe, but when we explain and talk things out, he’ll understand. He’s not going to stop being your friend because you’re going through a rough time”

“I got freaked thinking I’d hurt him”

Lance remembered that feeling. He’d never consciously physically harm their friends, yet he could remember every single time he’d scared them

“Tell him that. You helped me be more honest with him and Pidge. You refused to let me give up hope that we’d be friends again after Pidge found out my true nature. You’re my rock. I would love to do things with you. And I love the things we do. I don’t think you know, but I love snuggling into you when we’re watching a movie. We don’t have to be talking. Just having you alive and beside me, it makes me really stupidly happy. You make me happy”

  Keith finally moved to hug him properly, raising his head his boyfriend pressed a kiss to his lips. Lance would happily take every single kiss from Keith until they were old and wrinkled... if he got old and wrinkled...

“You make me happy too. I’m sorry about the accident...”

“It was freak thing”

“I feel like I should known the lingering headache wasn’t a good thing”

“You didn’t know. I’ve replayed that over and over in my head. How one incident could nearly take you away. All I can come up with is that you’re not as thick headed as you like people to think”

“At least it’s... um... confirmed I have a brain”

“You have a very nice brain. And a very nice rest of you”

Tentatively, Keith joked back

“You’re not too bad for a corpse”

“And you’re not too bad for a dog”

Keith huffed, ego ruffled

“I’m a wolf”

  The more Keith said, the more comfortable he’d be. Lance prepared to start googling good werewolf jokes for the future, but for now he was happy Keith was smiling

“And a very charming one at that. You’re quite beautiful as a wolf in a scary kind of way”

“What do I look like?”

“You’re big and black... and clumsy. You’re a bit like Kosmo, your paws are massive, but you’re still very soft”

“Coran said I came to find when I’d turned”

“You did. You sat outside and cried and cried. You were so clumsy that I thought you were hurt”

“I couldn’t have been that bed”

“Think of Kosmo when he had his thermometer up his butt. He was all stiff legged and looked like he’d never recover”

Keith groaned

“I can’t even be a manly werewolf”

“Nope. Still, you got there. I’ll have to take a photo next time... maybe I can try grooming you too?”

Keith rolled his eyes

“I’m not a dog, babe”

“Excuse you. I’ll have you know I’m an excellent groomer. We can put a bow in your hair... I wonder if they make onesies for wolves...”

  Keith frowned with a pout. Lance stealing a kiss. If the Blades didn’t want their agents teased they should have thought about that before assigning them all onesies to wear. The realisation hit him, a giggle escaping. Arching an eyebrow at him, Keith didn’t seem amused

“What?”

“Kolivan. Babe, all these years... Kolivan has been running around in a onesie!”

Personally Lance found it hilarious. Stoic, somewhat scary, straight-laced Kolivan... in a onesie. Covering his mouth, Lance’s giggle turned to laughter. Keith tried to resist the urge, but obviously now the thought was in his head and he couldn’t get it out

“That’s terrible! Babe... noooo”

“It’s still true! Oh my god... I wonder if they know?”

“It’s not a onesie, it’s a suit”

Kolivan in a onesie that looked like a suit... Lance shook with laughter... shit, now he needed to pee. Fanning his face, he tried to suck down a breath

“Time out! Time out... oh god... I have to pee”

“You did it to yourself”

“I know. Okay, I’m sorry, but unless you want me to pee right here, we’re going home”

“You could pee on the side of the road?”

“And I could pee on your foot. You can drive. My car hates me”

“What did it do?”

“It’s too much like effort to get behind the steering wheel... I don’t need something else trying to make me pee”

“So I shouldn’t tell you I wanted to make pizza for dinner? A cheesy pizza for a cheesy vampire”

  That was sweet rather than funny. Keith was very sweet to him.

[neocity-sarai]

“Love in _____ “ series

❀ chapter 3: reader x jaemin

❀ forbidden love

❀ alerts: fluff, tinge of angst, language, suggestive, making out, i do not speak fluent french whatsoever, please forgive the mistakes, mentions of the dreamies

❀ song rec: “paris” by sabrina carpenter

“Love in Paris”

You’re surprised how you managed to make it this far. When you first told your parents that you wanted to move to Paris, they shot you down even before you finished. You told them you wanted to live by yourself to experience independence in a cultural epicenter and have some type of outlet to practice your french skills. Not that you were an expert in any way. Several days later, your father convinced your mother that it would be a good way to see the world and live in an environment that was different from your dull, quiet neighborhood. Before you knew it, you were on a one-way plane to Paris, France. 

Several months later

Thankfully, you were pretty decent at your french skills without butchering the accent you had to adopt when speaking. You got a job at a nearby cafe that was close to your studio apartment but you couldn’t feel any happier. Despite having such a small room, you adored it. All you had was a small bed, a wooden vanity, a mirror, and a few belongings from home. Every morning, you’d wake up to the honey-colored window next to your bed as you hung your arms out of it- looking at the Eiffel tower that scraped against the dawn sky. It was like you were living in a painting, the way that the sky turned a light shade of lilac during twilight or how the city glowed in the late hours of the night. In the mornings, you’d always pick up a bouquet of pansies in the market that resided in the Jardin des Tuileries. You’d place the flowers in a crystal glass that you found in some vintage store in passing, you considered it your best investment. During the night time, you always felt yourself relaxing with the sound of occasional car honks or the buskers playing their accordions on the streets. You’d put your headphones on to play some soft music, swirling a glass of red wine that sat in your hand. Over the first few weeks of coming there, you mostly stuck to your day to day routine rather than exploring Paris for yourself. When you had the time, you promised that you would scour the city by every corner and alley. You just had to earn your rent money first.

You actually found the boulangerie by accident. You made a wrong turn somewhere and discovered a quaint, two story bakery that was called, “Claudette’s.” By chance, you decided to follow the comforting scent of fresh bread and honey-glazed pastries, an older woman who wore a chiffon skirt smiled at you. The establishment only had a couple customers in it, she made her way around the corner, “Comment puis-je vous aider madame?” 

You answered her, “Embauchez- vous?”

“Oui.”

You walked closer to her, shaking her hand, “Je voudrais travailler ici. Parlez vous anglais?”

“Oui, un peu.”

“Merci.”

Though you could speak french without many problems, you still preferred speaking in english. You’re grateful that the woman was willing to cooperate with you. She eyed you curiously. She seemed like a character straight out of a novel as her hair piled into a messy bun of white, her apron is embroidered with tiny blossoms, and she looked extremely young for how old she actually was. In a heavy french accent she spoke to you, “Are you new in Paris?”

“I am, since a few months ago.”

“What- er, why work at my shoppe?”

Though the job is to make money, you really did want to experience the life of working in a bakery. You always were interested in how to make coffee or how to ice cakes and back home, you just couldn’t. You continue, “I want to learn from you, mademoiselle.”

“Call me Claudette, welcome.”

After your encounter with Claudette, you had been in Paris for nearly a year. Time flew by and you hadn’t even noticed. You were comfortable after trying and failing to make french-foam macchiatos, mixing up people’s orders, and getting the texture of the pastries right. You were thankful that Claudette was patient with you. 

Like every other Monday morning, you swung the sign that hung on the bakery’s door to open, taking the morning rush on by yourself. Claudette entrusted the shoppe to you when she needed to sort out inventory or go on errands. You didn’t mind that, knowing your customers’ names, conversations about their lives. When you finally got to the end of the line, a peculiar customer had stepped foot through the doorway. He seemed to be taller than you, dressed in a white t-shirt and a blue blazer with matching pants to go with it. The odd part was that you couldn’t clearly see his face as it was covered with a black scarf, hat, and blake sunglasses. Why did it seem like he was trying to hide his face? You asked him, “Comment puis-je vous aider?”

“Je voudrais un expresso, pas de lait.”

“Donc tout noir?”

“Huh?” Despite the dark shades over his eyes, you could still sense the boy’s confusion in his voice. You took your chances, “Are you fluent in english?”

“I sure am.”

You nod at him skeptically, “I was asking if you were sure you wanted all black, that’s a lot of caffeine.”

He raises an eyebrow at you, his voice muffled under his scarf, “Are you questioning my refined tastes?”

“Uh- no sir. That is not my intention. But, don’t say that I didn’t warn you.”

The boy pulls out his credit card as he darts his eyes around the cafe. Like he insists, you serve him his tiny cup of all black espresso, you even grimace at the heavy scent despite working with coffee for so long. He wasn’t kidding, he had gulped it down like it was nothing- your eyes widening at the sight. He smiled, his scarf still wrapped around his face. “I’d like another please.”

You eye him incredulously, “More? really?”

“Yes, that’s what I said miss..”

“Y/n. It’s y/n.”

“Your establishment is quite the place. You’ll be seeing me here often.”

Trying your best to smile at him, “I look forward to it.” You walk back to the counter, packing sweets for the next customer as you watch the boy gaze out the window. Even his posture seemed so formulaic due to the way he crossed in legs in a prim-proper way, dainty fingers stirring his half-full espresso shot. When you get around to the boy’s third espresso, your surge of confidence makes you lean down at him, “You asked my name, isn’t it right that I know yours?”

He slides his shades down slightly, his eyes a dark brown, “Oh, don’t worry y/n. You’ll be seeing plenty of me that you won’t forget my name.”

He places a large bill on the table, winking at you, “Keep the change, y/n. You deserve it for working so hard.”

He struts out the door, leaving you just as confused as you felt when he first walked in. Who was that? And why was he acting so mysteriously? Throughout the day, you hadn’t thought about him after being so busy taking orders and fulfilling them. 

To your surprise, the same boy came the next day around noon. You could tell by his odd disguise that contrasted with his crisp, white suit- his voice in a lower octave than yesterday. He whispered, “I’d like another espresso and a croissant please.”

You typed up his total on the register, two girls whispering behind him in line. He sat at one of the tables before one of the girls could tap on his shoulder, her expression falling when he walked away. When you set down his cup, you eye him carefully, “If you want more espressos, you’ll have to tell me what’s going on.”

He rests his chin on his hand before yanking his scarf down, “In what obligation do I have to do that? Isn’t it called customer confidentiality?”

“Not if you’re causing a disturbance. You look so suspicious right now!”

A scowl is scribbled on the boy’s face, some pink hair sticking out of his dark bucket hat, “Do you have anywhere private?”

“Follow me.” You lead him to your back stock room, his proximity too close for comfort. His eyes dart from the front of the store and back to you, his hand ripping off his mysterious ensemble. The boy finally reveals his face, a beautiful one at that. The locks that sit at the top of his head curl on his forehead are a shade of bubblegum pink, his lashes accent his eyes attractively, and his cheekbones accentuate his boyish charm. The boy smiles at you, his teeth shining through his pink lips, “You can’t tell anyone that I’m me.”

You stare back at him, “Who exactly are you?”

The boy dramatically runs a hand through his pink hair, “You don’t know who I am?”

“Should I?”

He sighs, “I’m Jaemin Na.”

You don’t catch on. Instead, you look down into space, catching a sight of Claudette’s magazine pile- a picture of a pink-haired boy on the front cover.

“Wait a minute-”

You grab the magazine hastily, holding it up next to the boy’s face, “Y-you’re Jaemin Na?”

He smiles brightly at you, “The one and only.” You rub your fingers against your chin, “Wait, what do you do exactly?”

Jaemin sighs at you, resting a hand on the wall near your head, “Listen sweetie, I’m the son of the Na family- consuls to the royal family of Versailles. I stay in the palace.”

“Ohh- so you’re a rich elitist boy?”

“Well- I guess you could put it that way.”

You scan him up and down curiously, “Well that explains the lame disguise. I’m sure girls would try to maul you. If it’s so much work, why don’t you just have one of the palace people make you coffee? Why bother coming here?”

Jaemin scrunches his nose, “Well I don’t appreciate the insult and I also hate to admit that no one makes coffee like you do- that’s why I started sneaking out and coming here. Don’t take too much credit though.”

Rolling your eyes at him, you smirk, “For someone who sits on their butt in the palace all day, you sure drink a lot of coffee, you should see a doctor.”

Jaemin smoothes down the fabric of his white vest jacket before covering his face with the scarf again, “My taste buds and stomach lining are perfectly fine, thank you very much.”

Shoving his bucket hat over his eyes, he storms out of the shoppe- leaving you with an amused grin on your face. The next day, Jaemin came once again. You asked him, “one espresso shot coming right up.”

Your fingers nimbly move on the register’s keyboard, a hand flying across it without any thought. You bring Jaemin his espresso cup, setting it down on a dainty white saucer in front of him, “Here’s your black coffee of death. Enjoy.”

You swivel back around, only to be stopped by the sound of Jaemin’s voice, “Hold it. Not so fast.”

“What is it now?”

“I never said I wanted an espresso- it’s a lavender latte kind of day.”

You step closer to him, your eyes widened like disks, “But you didn’t stop me at the counter? You always get an espresso- all black?”

“Not today. Plus, you only assumed and never thought to ask.”

You resist the urge to slap Jaemin square in the face, he was acting like a spoiled, conceited child. You eye him sternly, “Are you going to waste that?”

Jaemin bats his eyelashes at you, swinging the fabric of his scarf over his shoulder, “Well I certainly am not going to have an espresso today. I take that as a yes?”

You feel your eyes roll back into your head, you’re surprised they don’t turn inside out. Grumbling, you march away with the espresso in your hand- dumping it into the sink drain as Jaemin smiles an amused grin. You come back to him, a menu in hand, “What do you want and make the choice good because I won’t do this.”

Jaemin raises his eyebrow at you, “Isn’t that your job? Customer knows what’s best?”

Scoffing, you smash your fist on the table, “Don’t do this Jaemin or you’ll regret it.”

The pink haired boy narrows his eyes at you through his pretentious sunglasses, “I’d like a lavender latte- make it oat milk. I don’t digest dairy well.” Heading back to the counter, you whip up the drink, layering a mint-berry compote and oat milk as you strategically place a lavender stem at the top of it. You stand back to admire the perfection of the drink, the purple gradient blends into a cloud of white. When you place it onto the table in front of Jaemin, he takes a sip of the drink as you wait for his reaction. He uses his index finger to motion you closer to him, your feet moving on their own. 

“Well, how is it?”

A bright smile lights up his face, his white teeth gleaming between his lips, “It’s good but you need to come closer.”

You do as he says, his eyes flickering to your lips- you feel his breath on your face. Is he about to kiss you right now? He darts his eyes from your lips to your eyes. The fast-pace of your heartbeat skyrockets before it ends suddenly, Jaemin smacking his lips before whispering at you, “The oat milk could be a little less nutty.”

You break the tension, launching back from you, “Are you kidding me right now?”

Jaemin gives you a cheshire cat-like grin, “Yes but not to fear, I’ll still drink this since you worked so very hard on it.”

You raise your cloth rag at him, stopping your hand just before the crown of his head- your brows creased with distress. Before this, you had never dealt with such a difficult customer before. Your voice is laced with irritation, “Do you enjoy this?”

“Oh, so very much. I hope you don’t miss me, I’ll be back at the same time tomorrow.”

Grabbing his book sack, Jaemin heads out the door, leaving you alone to be irritated. Like he promises, Jaemin is back the next day. The whole evening after yesterday, you spent taking note of every trap Jaemin would set for you- there was no way he was going to get you this time. When he steps up to the register, you try to sound as polite as possible. 

“Welcome to Claudette’s. What would you like to order?”

He nods at you, clicking his tongue at the same time, “Let’s go with the caramel frappuccino, no whipped cream or foam please.”

After he pays, you skillfully make the drink right in front of him, carefully measuring the correct proportions of every ingredient. He places his fingers on his chin, one hand on his hip in a taunting manner, “This is so fascinating to watch y/n. You’re truly the master of beverage arts.” You scoff, pushing the finished drink to him, “Try that.”

When he takes a sip, his eyes sparkle with pleasure as he visibly shudders, “Well, I am pleased to say that you have passed the frappuccino test except for one thing.”

“What now?”

“The straw is upside down.”

You groan, slapping a palm to your forehead, “You’ve got to be kidding me Jaemin.”

Before Jaemin can answer you, you hear a familiar voice from the back of the stock room and you feel a hand sit on your shoulder, “Are you satisfied with miss y/n’s services sir?”

You whip around to be met with Claudette towering above you, her lips graced with a fond smile. Jaemin clears his throat before answering her, “She’s doing great but she’s having so trouble accepting constructive criticism.”

You stare back at him, gritting your teeth, “What are you talking about? I just-”

Claudette pats you on the head, “Maintenant, maintenant petit pan, what do I say?”

Respectfully, you repeat after her, “Customer always knows best.”

Jaemin adds, “I was just telling her that the straw was upside down just so that she doesn’t do this to other customers.”

“Oui Monsieur! Learn from the customer, y/n, it’ll make you a better worker and person.”

Jaemin lets out a hearty laugh from over the rim of his maroon scarf, “Other than that, she’s great.”

Glaring at him, you look up to Claudette who’s smiling at him, “I see that you come almost every day monsieur, thank you for enjoying my shoppe. Merci beaucoup!”

He smiles back at her, “It’s because of y/n.”

You feel your breath hitch at your throat when you hear Jaemin’s words, how can he say things so casually? You want to believe he’s saying these things to get under your skin again, you can’t seem to predict the pattern of his ways.

Claudette practically jumps out of her skin, her hands clapping wildly, “l'amour est dans l'air! Y/n, you need a break right now- let this nice man take you out for some air.”

Waving your hands in front of you, you shake your head at your boss, “Claudette, please. I need to look after the shop in case of more customers and I-”

The older woman cuts you off, “Nonsense! You’ve been working too hard since I’ve been out! You’re done for today! Out!”

Claudette holds out her hand to you to hand over your apron, an amused smile on her face. After you hand it to her, you gather your belongings from the stockroom before breezing past Jaemin out the door. You turn back to Claudette for affirmation, she’s always trying to shoo you out when she thinks you’ve worked for so long. You don’t mind her motherly aura. It makes you miss your own mother. You begin walking down the street towards your apartment, your bag slung over your shoulder. 

“Wait up! y/n!”

You turn around to be met with a huffing Jaemin, “Where are you going?”

Sighing, you say, “What does it look like? Home obviously?”

Jaemin holds up a finger so he can catch his breath, were you walking that fast? He says, “Why don't you spend the day with me?”

“Yeah, after you embarrassed me in front of my boss? No way, I’ll pass.”

Turning around, you continue to walk until Jaemin runs in front of you, holding his hands as if he’s going to entrap you if you try to make a run for it, “Please, let me make it up to you.”

You eye Jaemin skeptically, “Why? What would you get out of that?”

“Can you just trust me?”

Scoffing, you try to get more steps in until you’re halted by Jaemin once again, “I promise, if you spend the day with me, I won’t bother you about coffee or upside down straws again!”

You gaze at him, your eyes searching for some malicious sign. When you don’t find any, a smile creeps on to your face, “You better stick to your word Jaemin Na or else!”

The first several minutes of walking next to each other make you cringe from the awkwardness. You steal a glance at Jaemin who’s messing with the rim of his bucket hat, the accessory covering his eyes, “So, where are we going?”

He answers you plainly, “Have you been around the city?”

You rub the back of your neck, “I’ll have to admit, I haven’t been around much.”

He stuffs his scarf into his book bag, the sun too hot for the thick fabric, “No worries, I have a plan. Prepared to be amazed out of your mind.”

You let Jaemin guide you to the plaza of the Louvre, the glass pyramid reflecting the sunlight into a million rainbows. People stand in front of the water structure that it sits on, the water is like a pristine mirror that catches even the most subtle details. You had seen the Louvre in travel books and magazines but never in person, “Are we going to the Louvre?!”

“Nope, that can be for another day. I have something even better.”

Jaemin walks over to a man who stands by a red cart, they converse in basic french before the man hands Jaemin two wristbands. He puts his on, motioning for you to do the same. A big red tourist bus pulls over by the front of the Louvre, “All aboard the passengers! tous à bord du bus!”

Without a second thought, Jaemin takes you by the hand before hosting you onto the bus as you both dash up to the second story of the double-decker. You take a seat at the very front, Jaemin’s shoulder touching yours. You try to wave away the tingle you feel when he brushes against you, his cologne smells of fresh pine needles and mint. A skinny teenager dressed in a striped shirt wears a beret at the top of his head smiles at you, extending a fake rose to you. Hesitantly, you take it while smiling back at him. 

“Bienvenue à bord! My name is Pierre and I will be your guide to your journey across the city of love, city of the la romance! Let’s begin!”

Within a few hours, you had already seen so much. You felt like you were on cloud 9 when you stood up on your seat as you passed under the Arc de Triomphe, Jaemin resting his hands on your waist to keep you stable. You don’t resist him. He watches you with adoring eyes, “Look like someone’s having too much fun!”

You look down at him, “How can you not?!”

The bus speeds over the Pont Neuf, the oldest bridge in Paris that crosses over the Seine, Jaemin pointing out the ducks that float on the banks of it. You laugh as Jaemin takes your rose, putting it in between his lips in order to make you giggle in which you do because he grimaces as a thorn pokes his lip. You swerve with the bus as the driver maneuvers it through Place de la Concorde, the spot where the French Revolution took place. When Pierre told you fun facts about Marie Antoinette, Jaemin would scream at the top of his lungs, his voice getting lost in a blast of wind, “Let them eat cake!!”

When the bus halts at the final stop, you descend down the stairs and off the vehicle- the cool weather sending a chill down your spine. You and Jaemin walk over to the Notre Dame and the Saint Chappele to keep shelter from the blustering winds, the stained glass windows making your faces glow with shades of blues and greens. You sit on a bench, Jaemin’s body pretty much pressed to your body as you both hold a candle between your fingers within the quiet church. Jaemin turns to you, whispering, “So what do you think of Paris?”

You chuckle at him, “Paris is the city of love right? I think I’m in love with Paris, when do we get married?”

Jaemin stiffens his frame, “We as in you and Paris or as in you and I?”

You hit his arm, “No silly! Paris! I don’t want to get married right now!”

Shaking his head, Jaemin laughs at you, tufts of pink sticking out of his bucket slightly. The hat covers less of his face now, at least you can see his eyes. 

“What do you say, we get something to eat?”

“You’re right, I’m famished. All that exploring has made me ravenous.”

Jaemin wins at you, “I know just the thing.”

It’s about evening now, the sun starts to set with a shade of champagne and violet- the trees glinting a shade of vermillion green when you pass the numerous cafes and boutiques on the street. You both find yourself in a field under the Eiffel Tower, the structure staring down at you with regality. You feel as if the air in your lungs has been sucked out, blue lights blink along the lattice pattern of the tower- creating a luminescent effect on your vision. Jaemin nudges you with his elbow, “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

You don’t even realize he had been gone since you couldn’t stop staring at the beautiful sight in front of you, your head fuzzy from how the gold and blue cut the painted sky. When Jaemin comes back, he sets down a blanket away from the other people- most of them couples- you avert your eyes from them. In his right hand, he holds a basket full of unknown goodies waiting to be eaten. You and Jaemin sit on the blanket before Jaemin reaches into the basket to pull out a multitude of things. He hands you a long baguette of bread before spreading out various shiny fruits, cheeses, and a bottle of blush cider. 

“Did you really prepare this all right now?”

Jaemin smiles at you, his eyes softened, “I have my ways.”

For the next hour or so, you feel as if you don’t need any alcohol to feel drunk. You and Jaemin watch the dusk fade into a black sky, stars glimmering over the golden glow that surrounds you. You both nibble on pieces of havarti cheese or opt for a slice of bread as you talk to each other in hushed whispers. You had never done this with anyone before, it felt so easy, so light. You learn about Jaemin’s life as the son of the consuls and how exhausted he is to be expected of perfection every second of his life, how he’s had his freedom stripped from him since he was born. In turn, he listens to you when you talk about your life back home, how your parents almost cut off ties with you- thinking you were foolish to want to randomly move to Paris by yourself. You never regretted your decision after all. You say, “If I hadn’t moved here, I wouldn’t have met you.”

Jaemin laughs, downing his glass of rose blush cider, “This is the first day that I have felt like myself in front of anyone- just me, not perfect Jaemin Na in front of the cameras.”

You nod at him, scarily aware of how close your fingers are to Jaemin’s on the plaid blanket, “Do you have a favorite part about Paris?”

He turns to you, his cheeks and bridges of his nose illuminated by soft golden light, “After living here all my life, I hate to admit that it’s gotten a bit boring. Now, I think that’s changed.”

You quirk an eyebrow up at him, moving your hand away as heat travels up to your cheeks, “And what has changed?”

You see Jaemin laugh to himself, “You’re unlike any girl I’ve ever met. You don’t fall at my feet like the other elitists in my family- you’re not afraid to call me out and criticize me. I like that.”

You nervously laugh, “Thank you? I’m not sure what to say.”

Jaemin’s expression turns serious, his lips looking more prominent when he turns his face to you, “Then you don't have to say anything.”

Before you can register, Jaemin leans into you as his nose bumps against yours in a soft kiss. You pull away, boring your eyes into his before he scans your eyes for some sign of refusal. When he can’t find any, he molds his hand to your cheek, folding his lips over your bottom lip. Jaemin speeds up the pace by pressing into you further, a sound escaping your throat. You blush at the noise, Jaemin leaning his forehead into yours before sweeping a hair behind your ear, “Wow.”

Your bodies feel like they sing with electricity, Jaemin’s fingers hot on your skin as he pulls you into the space of his chest. Your ear is pressed to his heartbeat, “Do you hear that y/n?”

You shut your eyes at the quiet rhythm, “I hear it.”

You take it open yourself to edge your fingers on the rim of Jaemin’s hat, slowly taking it off him to reveal the pink shade of his locks- the soft tufts messy from the day. He watches you take off his sunglasses too, placing a hand on his neck while pulling him in for a fiery kiss. His eyelashes extend from his eyelids, framing his dark irises that reflect the Eiffel like swirling stars. He whispers to you, “Are you ready to get out of here?”

You nod at him, standing to help him fold off the blanket and carry the basket. The whole way back, you and Jaemin dance along the walkway of the Seine- to the beat of your hearts, to the beat of the acoustic guitar that echoes from a late-night cafe. Ending right back at your apartment, you don’t want Jaemin to leave just yet. He holds your hands like you’re a fragile porcelain, the warmth of him gentle and soothing. He leans his head against yours, pressing a kiss to the spot in between your eyebrows, “Can I ask you something?”

“What is it Jaemin?”

“This is only if you want to, don’t feel pressured. My parents are holding a masquerade ball at the palace tomorrow night. Do you want to be my date?”

You stare at him, a hand resting on his shoulder, “Oh, Jaemin, I’d love to go with you, there’s just one problem. I didn’t pack a ball gown when I moved.”

Jaemin’s expression is shocked as if he never expected you to say yes, “Really, you’ll come?”

“I’d be happy to.”

“Don’t worry about the dress, I’ll take care of it.”

For a final time, Jaemin presses a firm kiss to your lips, “I’ll see you tomorrow night y/n.”

“Goodnight, Jaemin. Today was perfect.”

“I’m glad. Now, go in first. I won’t leave until you do.”

“Are you sure you’ll be okay on your own?”

“Positive, goodnight y/n.”

In the morning, you wake up the sound of your doorbell ringing. Sleepily, you saunter over to your door, finding a neatly wrapped package on your welcome mat. Unfurling the paper, you hold the delicate satin of a scarlet red dress between your fingers, the softness making you sigh. It’s got billowing belle sleeves that are cuffed with pearls at the wrists, the train of it falls on your hardwood floors. You find a note at the bottom of it, “For the most precious girl, who’s beautiful even without this dress. -Jaemin”

You lay the dress agross your bed, the scarlet organza blending into a shade of fuschia as white sparkles cover the bodice. In awe, you can’t take your eyes off the dress- one thing was for sure, Jaemin had impeccable taste. You had gone to work with a pep in your step- you debriefed Claudette of all the details of seeing the city with Jaemin and how his eyes held every form of adoration. Neither of you had fallen so hard so fast before. You were tingling at the thought of it. Thankfully, Claudette let you off early so you could get ready for the ball, your head filled with the thought of dancing with Jaemin in a fancy ballroom. 

Nighttime approached quickly, a jet black limousine had pulled up to the front of your apartment- Jaemin’s voice crackled through your phone speaker when you answered.

“I’m here y/n!”

“Be right down!”

You descended the stairs, your train dragging slightly despite holding it off the ground the best you could. When you came outside, Jaemin’s eyes met yours, his mouth agape from seeing the sight of you, “How is it so possible that someone can be so beautiful?”

Laughing at him, you hug his waist, “You need to stop with all these cheesy compliments, that’s what a boyfriend would say.”

Jaemin smiles into the hollow of your ear, pressing his lips at the shell, “I can make that happen.”

Suddenly, Jaemin pulls out a clear box. It holds a gold band, a white rose attached onto it. You let Jaemin slip it on your wrist before letting him whisk you away into the car. The whole car ride was full of hushed whispers, lips sealing stolen kisses, and bodies pressed together. Out of your time living in Paris, you have never experienced anything like what you felt with Jaemin.

 Upon arriving at the Palace of Versailles, it was definitely a castle straight out of a fairytale. Fountains line the garden courtyards as different colored lights shine on the cars that line up in front of the palace, guests piling out of them. A velveteen red carpet was rolled out down the stairs of the entryway, giving off a glamorous effect. Extending his hand, Jaemin held out his arm for you to grab- both of you entering the palace. Over the top couldn’t hold a candle to the real description of how the atmosphere looked. Caterers dished out trays of hand towels and small crackers topped with caviar, desserts dusted with glitter in the shape of the Eiffel Tower. You whisper to Jaemin, “Is your life always like this?”

He chuckles, “Mostly. It gets boring all the time though.”

In the center of the main ballroom is a live band, musicians playing their cellos and their violins in sync with the music as guests dance in a flurry around the floor. You felt your heart sink. You were never taught to properly dance because there wasn’t a reason to learn back home. Jaemin feels you stiffen, “Y/n? Are you okay?”

Nodding slowly, you say, “I don’t know how to dance-”

“Relax, just follow my lead.”

Without a moment to breathe, Jaemin already placed his hand on your waist before guiding you hands to his shoulders. Like walking on air, you glide with Jaemin despite tripping over your feet for the first half of the song- you rest your chin on his shoulder, swaying. You two don’t say anything for a bit, Jaemin’s grip on your body feels secure.You’re interrupted when an older woman who resembles Jaemin taps him on the shoulder, “Honey?”

You feel Jaemin’s arms fall from you, hugging the woman you presume to be his: “Mother?”

“Honey, who’s this?”

Jaemin pulls you to his side, “This is y/n. I’ve been showing her around Paris.”

The woman smiles at you, her hand tucking back a strand that’s fallen from her black braid, “Please to meet you, has my son been treating you well?”

You take her hand firmly, nodding, “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Na. Jaemin’s been wonderful to me, he’s been showing me around and telling me good things about-”

“Yes, that sounds great. Jaemin, I need you to come with me- there’s someone your father wants you to meet.”

“Can’t it wait until next week mother?”

Her eyes sharpen coldly, the warmth slipping out of her smile, “Do not disobey your father, come now.”

You hear Jaemin groan before he turns to you as he’s being dragged away, “I’ll be back. Do not move. I mean it- don’t.”

You nod at him confusedly, “Don’t worry, I’ll be here.”

You opt to take a seat by the tables where guests pile their plates up with various foods, your eyes watching Jaemin’s mother introduce him to a girl that’s a lot shorter than him, her eyelashes batting at Jaemin. They shake hands as Jaemin’s father and the girl’s father laugh, cheering their flutes of champagne as they converse. Immediately, you feel yourself rise from your seat when the girl launches herself into Jaemin’s arms, his face is riddled with surprise. She smiles up at him, whispering something inaudible as Jaemin’s mother teases them to kiss- Jaemin sternly staring at his mother. Getting up from your chair, you turn back into the nearest hallway, your black slumped against the wall. How could you have been so naive? Did you honestly think that Jaemin could sweep you off your feet like some cheesy romcom and then you’d fall in love with Paris’s it boy? It seemed inconceivable. Around the corner, you hear Jaemin’s voice- you start to run towards where you hear him- only to be met with the sight of the same girl pressing Jaemin up against the wall. Her voice sounds like a slither, “Little birdies are telling me you’ve been running around with some peasant girl that works at some dusty cafe. Didn’t you say you loved me?”

You continue to listen in on them. Jaemin holds her at an arms distance, “That was when I was 4 and didn’t know what the word meant. I don’t see you that way. Aleah, I don’t like you that way.”

She laughs into Jaemin’s shoulders, “Your mother has always adored my family- we’re destined from the start. Don’t turn me away, Jaemin.”

Jaemin shakes his head, “Y/n, isn’t some peasant girl. Just because she’s not like you and your family doesn’t make her a peasant.”

Aleah combs her fingers through Jaemin’s hair, “Sweet little Jaemin, that girl could never give you what I could. She’ll only bring you down. Face it, we’re to be betrothed soon- in the palace, side by side.”

When you don’t hear Jaemin protest or even say a word of refusal, you take off running. You don’t care that the ends of your dress are frayed now, your heels causing blisters on your feet. What felt like a dream has now transformed into a nightmare. You burst through the doorway of the palace, guests shooting you dirty glances when you tell the limousine driver to take you home. As the car dashes out of the courtyard, you hear Jaemin call your name on the steps while tears fall from your eyes. Paris has never looked so melancholy. When you arrive at the doorstep of your apartment, you glare up at the moon- the same moon that Jaemin had kissed you multiple times under. You sit on your stairway, crying into the lap of your dress as your hands fist the layers of fabric tightly. With a screech on the pavement, Jaemin flings himself out of another car- slamming the door behind him. You look at him, shaking your head, “I don’t want to see you. I don’t want-”

He doesn’t listen to your words when he wraps his strong arms around your sunken frame, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

You collapse into the crook of his chest, your tears staining his dress shirt. Jaemin tilts your chin to him, “I’m not going to marry Aleah, I hope you know that.”

“What about your mother? She said-”

“I don’t care what she or my father says. I can’t marry someone I don’t like- I don’t love. Not for money, not for status. I won’t.”

“Jaemin, you can’t. You can’t sever from your family because of me-”

He raises his eyebrows, “Who says I’m doing it for you? I’m doing it for myself. I know what my heart says, I know that it chooses you. I’m not doing it for you.”

He takes your hand in his, pressing a kiss to your knuckle, “I’m going to do it for us.”

When you try to say something else, Jaemin shut you up with a passionate kiss before eyeing you closely, “Let’s go rest for tonight.”

Letting  it go, you nod at him. Jaemin picks you up, your dress covering his body as he unlocks your door for you before setting you on the comforter of your bed- your room lights are off, the scent of Paris air drifting in from your open window. The darkness invokes the calmness, you start to kick off the heels that are strapped to your feet. Jaemin sits on your bed next to you, “I’ve never seen your room before.”

His dark eyes scan the wilting peonies that sit on your desk and the ivory walls that surround you both. “Your room suits you.”

You let yourself collapse onto the bed, your head hitting the cool fabric of your blanket, “It took me a while to settle into it.” 

Beside you, Jaemin lays down to watch you, his elbow propped up, “I should probably go soon.”

“Do you want to stay?”

“Can I?”

You chuckle, “That depends if you want to. Your mom’s probably wondering why you’re with a peasant girl.”

Jaemin clears his throat, “Did you overhear Aleah?”

You don’t answer. Instead, you want to spit out a string of insults about the rich, how they judge people based on money. For Jaemin’s sake, you don't. He parts his lips, “You know that’s not how I see you right?”

Nodding, you whisper, “If you did, I don’t think you’d be next to me right now.”

Immediately, you feel Jaemin hover over you, “I don’t want anyone else but you.”

Your bodies burn like flames as you kiss each other hotly, Jaemin’s tongue gliding over yours. You grip his hair, slightly tugging on it so that he lets out a sound- your legs entangled with each other on the bed. Panting, Jaemin tosses his black suit jacket to the ground- you practically yank of his tie. Jaemin drags his lips down to the juncture of your neck, causing him to smirk when you gasp. You bore your eyes into his, “I need you to help me.”

Jaemin seems to understand when he reaches behind your neck to pull the zipper of your dress now, your chest exposed in front of him. In the dark, his eyes glimmer with adoration- his lips connecting with your own. Using your hands, you take his dress shirt off him to reveal his muscular body, his skin glowing under the soft moonlight. You smell the heaviness of Jaemin’s strong cologne, the scent makes you dizzy. By the end of it, your dress lays on the ground by your vanity and Jaemin’s clothes by your wardrobe as you press your cheek to his bare chest, watching him sleep peacefully. Jaemin has his arm on the small of your back, stroking your skin even in his slumber. You take note of how his pink locks are mussed and his eyelashes have a subtle curl from how long they are. Jaemin flicks one eye open, “Y/n? How come you’re not asleep yet?”

You snuggle deeper into him, “It’s because you’re next to me.”

“You’re right- I’m just that good- hey!”

You slap Jaemin’s chest, a blush creeping onto your cheeks, “That’s not why stupid!”

“Then what’s the reason?”

Without any hesitation, you tell him, “I like you and I want to be with you.”

“You’re a tad late y/n. I knew that already.”

“How? I’ve never told you that.”

“I can just feel it. You and I- we have this connection that I’ve never felt with anyone else. The only reason I come to that bakery isn’t only for the espressos. I want to protect you from harm’s way- even if that includes my own family. I just want to be there for you like no other guy can.”

Smiling to yourself, you reach up to pat Jaemin on the head only to have Jaemin’s hand catch yours, you whisper to him, “It’s only been a little while since we met?”

He sinks to your level, meeting your gaze before pressing a kiss to your eyelid, “That’s the beauty of liking someone. Time doesn’t stop for anyone. I just knew when I saw you.”

Giving Jaemin’s hand a firm squeeze, you press the curl of your lips to his knuckles. It makes him chuckle, his smile upturning on his cheeks. Once again, you shift closer to him. You both succumb to sleep, the low occasional honking of beetle cars and soft music from your neighbor’s window as your own Parisian lullaby- Jaemin wrapped in your embrace. 

[youbloodymadgenius]

Pancakes in bed, again?  (Modern!Ivar x reader)

A/N: Allvikingsfanfic asked me several months ago what the story of a fic called “Pancakes in bed, again?” would be. I wrote this, in French, and Allvikingsfanfic read it through Google translate. 

Today you can read it in English. It’s a silly thing, no plot, but I had fun writing it. And translating it too. 

Once again, thank you for helping me @inforapound 💖

Summary: the reader wants to eat breakfast in bed and Ivar is far from pleased.

Warnings: brief mention of fingering and oral sex (female receiver) ; grumpy Ivar.

Words: 1485

Pushing the door with your foot, you enter the room. "Breakfast!" you shout cheerfully, smiling and hands full of food.

While sitting on the bed, Ivar growls and places cushions behind his back. His eyes fall on the tray you're carrying. His threatening look is enough to temper your eagerness. You want to ask him if there’s a problem, but he doesn’t give you a chance.  

"WE ARE GOING TO HAVE PANCAKES IN BED AGAIN????????"  His scream is loud enough for you to startle, almost dropping the bottle of orange juice off the tray.

Your boyfriend being grumpy when he wakes up is nothing uncommon – you are perfectly aware, even if he never talks about it. The pain in his legs is often worse in the morning, his joints stiff from the hours of immobility. But right now, he is far beyond the usual, especially on a lazy Sunday morning, the sun already shining high and the previous night full of many orgasms, both for him and you.

Sighing, you walk a few steps forward so that you can put the tray on your nightstand.

"Ivar…" You begin tentatively but he immediately cuts you off. "What, ‘Ivar’? Huh Y/N, what??? I do hate breakfast in bed, you should know this by now!"

Hearing his harsh tone, you instinctively step back, feeling the need to put distance between the two of you. You're sure Ivar would never hit you, but when he explodes in anger, you cannot help being scared.

He's not finished. "A fucking bed is made for sleeping, not for eating, damn it! There's going to be crumbs everywhere again and we're going to have to change the sheets!"

Retorting to him that since he doesn't do it anyway, it shouldn't bother him is terribly tempting, but you know better and hold back. First, because it seems slightly unfair and second, because you're aware that adding fuel to the fire would only make things worse.

So, you're trying to calm yourself. Sitting carefully at the edge of the bed, you reach out and put your hand on his.

"Ivar,” you speak softly, "they're not croissants, they're pancakes. Pancakes don't make crumbs…" Pushing your hand back almost violently and rolling his eyes, he answers you with a frightfully dismissive tone, as if he was lecturing you.  

"Use your brain, Y/N, it's even worse! They're blueberry pancakes that you're going to sprinkle with maple syrup. The sheets will be stained and sticky. Sometimes, I wonder what's in your mind, really!"

At this point, you no longer want to be patient. Getting up, you speak dryly, "Admit it's because you hate pancakes!"

Giving you a death stare, Ivar hits the mattress with his hand before spitting. "THIS HAS ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO DO WITH IT, Y/N!!!"

Moving away from the bed, you raise your hands in front of you, palms facing him, as a – false – sign of defeat. You sarcastically answer him. "All right. So, since this has nothing to do with it, and it's truly because you don't like breakfast in bed, it's useless for me to bring you what I've prepared for you, isn't it? I'm going to eat my pancakes in the kitchen. And please, don't bother to come with me."

Going around the bed without looking at him, you grab the tray and head for the door.

"Y/N?" Ivar's voice keeps you from crossing the threshold, almost unwillingly. "You… You have prepared something for… me?" His voice sounds both incredulous and sheepish.

Turning around slowly, you speak with more bitterness than you would like. But after all, he certainly deserves it. "Why Ivar? Are you suddenly interested?"

"Y/N…" Now, it is he who wants to be soothing. He even sketches a smile. You see in his eyes the excuses he probably won't say. Inside, you feel like you're melting to see him so sorry, but you're not ready to give in so easily. Not right now anyway. You have a temper too.

"What 'Y/N'? Huh, Ivar, what??? I do hate that when you yell at me, you should know this by now!" Aware that you're using his own words against him, he winces.

"Okay, all right, I got carried away, Y/N…"

"Oh for sure, you got carried away! You've been unfair and acted in bad faith!"

Sighing, he lowers his head. "I… I shouldn't have… Are you… are you really, angry? Really very angry?"

The obvious fear in his voice is heart-wrenching. If there's one thing you know for sure, it's that Ivar loves you more than anything. And you also know that he's frightened that you might eventually leave him, tired of his outbursts.

Putting the tray back on the nightstand, you climb on the bed. Looking at you with shameful eyes, he grabs your hand.

"No, Ivar. I'm not really, angry. But I'm annoyed and slightly disappointed… How can you believe I don't know you hate pancakes? How many times have I forced you to eat pancakes? I thought you knew better. I always make something else for you, right?"

Your free hand rests on his cheek. "I brought the pancakes first because I wanted to make your scrambled eggs at the last minute, so they would be hot and creamy just how you like them…"

Chewing his bottom lip he scratches nervously the back of his neck. "I really was an idiot, wasn't I?"

You nod with a smile.

"And you made me scrambled eggs?"

"Not yet, you didn't give me the chance. But your toasts and your bacon must be cold by now."

Eyes wide open, Ivar almost hiccups. "Bacon? Did you fry bacon? But why didn't you say that earlier?" Pushing back the sheets, he swings his legs out of bed before grabbing his crutch.

"What are you doing now?" Your hand on his shoulder stops him.

"I'll handle the eggs and then I'll bring it all back here." He gives you a sorry look. "It's the least I can do, isn't it? Do you want me to reheat your pancakes?"

Turning away, he tries to get up, but you firmly stop him and force him to look at you, one hand on his chin. "You're going to stay here, go back to bed and let me do what I planned, okay?"

While his big blue eyes staring at you, surprised, you can't help but tease him a little longer. "I mean, as long as you're sure you want to have breakfast in bed, of course… Your toasts will make crumbs…”

***

Licking your maple syrup coated fingers with much gusto, you look at Ivar, who is swallowing his last bite. Greedily, he laid a little scrambled eggs on a quarter of toast and a slice of bacon on top. "Hmm,... It was perfect… And truly delicious…"

You laugh when he pouts, realizing that, as you predicted, there are crumbs everywhere, on and around him. Sweeping them with a light hand, you put a kiss on the corner of his lips. "Don't worry about it, I'll change the sheets later if needed."

Staring at you, his face is serious. "I'm incredibly lucky to have you. And I know I don't deserve you." But even before you can answer, his eyes become playful and one of his hands slips under the sheets to rest a few centimetres from your crotch. You moan instantly.

"However, you misjudged my appetite. I'm still hungry. Very hungry."

What is in his mind is pretty obvious, but you decide to play with him a little longer and sit up straight.

"Is that true? Are you that hungry? Give me two more minutes, I'll certainly find something to satisfy you." You pretend to get up, but he grabs your arm tightly.

"There's no way you're moving, Y/N." He's bossy but immediately betrayed by his eyes full of desire.

His lips crash against yours, your tongues searching for each other before rushing in a frantic dance that makes you both moan. When Ivar moves away from you, it's to push the sheets back to the foot of the bed. Everything then happens in a split second.

While one of his hands is skillfully removing your panties, the other is already running between your lips. This simple touch makes you immediately gasp.

"Ivar… Hmm…" Spreading and bending your legs, he moves in the bed before slipping between them.  You gasp as he slides two fingers inside you. You're already perfectly wet. "Ivar… it's… hmm…"

He gives you a stern look. "Shhh…," his fingers never stop moving back and forth inside you, "… my love, there's no way you're ruining my dessert…"

The next minute, his tongue is swirling around your clit and the last coherent thought you're able to formulate can be summarized in a few words, expressed between moans. "I… hmm… believe that… hmm… we have to think… hmm… more often about… this kind of dessert… hmm…"

🛡⚔️🛡

@saldelys @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets​ @lisinfleur​ @gearhead66​

[shytiff]

Apr 2021 Wins

Started typing this on 4th apr lmaooo

1 - went to mcd. bought chicken + rice with the app promo. there’s a staff helping me on the order machine lol i feel badd there’s no need to do thatt. ate my lunchmade by mom at mcd’s muschola and went to sbux bcs its tumbler day. green tea latte w skim milk as usual. sent dr triya’s translation. ecmocard. started rereading goong (AGAIN. i probably have read it like 3 times minimum). still bring some feels

2 - its holiday today. spent almost the whole daylight rereading goong (turns out its pronounce ‘gung’ not ‘gong’ lol ive been wrong all this time) and finished it. the scene where they stare at each other, separated by the castle door, always gets me. got the old ipad charged (the screen are like 30% close to detaching and falling apart) and started AOT

3 - spent the whole day reading AOT. i like it when i have mini purposes in life (eg: finishing a manga series). AOT rly talks a lot about what do you want to do in life, the consequences of your choices and how you have to live with it. i felt triggered in a good way. the characters dont rly judge other’s choices, but they question them. discuss about it. give you some moral push. second gladi today. my vbg was still filpped hhhh. read aot until i felt sleepy and fell asleep. woke up very near subuh and prayed isya. my toxic trait is the horrible self care (and im talking bare minimum lol hehe lmao)

4 - finished aot. Asked irun about some aot explanations and she sent 5 paragraphs in one bubble. Slept. Flavola, kopsus coklat and somay. Also ate japota honey butter. Did 1 long input of ecmocard. Followed baepsae choreo. Moved my body a bit. Wow im not immediately sleeping. Amazing

5 - arrived at harkit 11-ish and went back about 1pm loll. super hungry when im arriving in kalideres. bought tahu colek worth 3000 (i wonder how the seller hears me through my 2 layers of mask), roti sisir and some ice cream in alfamidi. my fitlife protein powder ran out again. its my 2nd already. did some ecmocard, wasted my time after maghrib

6 - woke up late. did not have the mental strength to go to harkit so i decided to just stay home. bought sbux 1L green tea and macchiato. wasted the daylight and finally did some ecmocard in the evening,,,,

7 - off to harkit 7.30-ish pm in the rain. Took some data for ecmocard. Went to salemba to get tabung and surat bebas pustaka. Had breakfast slash lunch first, tried guudfuud (red rice, beef and omega egg). I like that the rice was not too much. Met up w ness ren and talked about isip dilemmas at sky. Afterwards went to flavola. Ordered mie rebus and roasted milk tea cause i somehow feel sooo hungry and in need of calories. It tasted so good, i was sitting in my usual seat facing the window, and the sky was a mixture of blue and grey. Brought croissant and sakura pocky at indomart. Ate the bread immediately after indomie. Went back home. Juan brought tahu gejrot that was delicious and crunchy. Internship files briefing by akis. Fell asleep

8 - woke up. Saw that dr retha was up for interview. Panicked. Thankfully it was at 12. I left home at 9:40 ish and arrived 11:50. Its a long ass way. Turns out i was interviewed with ka agassi. The doctors are so kind. They explained the gist of anesthesiology profession, and how its a choice you make, and its okay as long as you like what you do. Tried halo bowl for lunch. Sous vide chicken, rice, caesar sauce, beef bacon, and the deliciouss butter broccoli. Went back to kalideres and to starbucks. I only spent <2 hrs in there (a waste of money, i know). Bought decaf hazelnut latte (apparently the beans were kenyan something? Medium?) and butter croissant (need to cushion my stomach). Did GCP certification and sent it to the ever so kind mba Ai. Still got energy from the caffeine, did some ecmocard, read quran, read.... Toji fanfic 🤦‍♀️

9 - went to rsf w mom. We took the wrong way and had to take the long way but thank god theres still time to spare. Met dr rara. Some briefing. Went to rscm w agassi, submitted files for ijazah, went back to RSF. Girlll the cost of transport. MRT: 12K. Grab: 16-17k. Thats one way trip. Bought food at rsf canteen. Eocru briefing by the research coordinator. Ward tour w dr retha. Snacked on ovaltine provided by mba ai. Went home after maghrib by tj. Liqo along the way. Glad bersih (came late). Drank macchiato for some strength but still fell asleep quickly.i shouldnt have laid down

10 - kebakaran jenggot in the morning due to green screen positioning. Finally got the appropriate setup (after many fabric tries and cutting my mukena) at 08:30. Finished showering 08:45. Zoom was opened at 9 lmao. Somehow finished before 09:30. Zoompah w mom and dad along side me. After its ovee, some "photoshoot" w fam. At this point i was truly rly sleepy. Took of my makeup. Changed my clothes. And then racil silv dev showed up lol. I got gifts c: and then atikah came. And then i redid my makeup, this time with the help of friends to create fantastic eye make up look (which i can never pull off). Eyebrows by sil, eyeshadow and liner by cheldev lol. Took some photos. Dajen came. Talked. Videocalled w pupuy. A surprise gift from fianti came. And then chel dajen went back at 8. Still cant sleep. Slept at like 11-12

11 - lazed. Woke up, ate pizza (mom bought 2 of phd's 1m pizza) and bakwan, slept again. Matcha latte and ecmocard. Watched a bit of 2nd sinau

12 - off to rsf at 06:20. Arrived 07:15 ish. Lunch was ayam penyet accompanied by snacks that mba ai bought. Off to harkit at 14:05 (bcs my laptop somehow shut down and i lost all the unsubmitted data). And then off to kalideres at 15:30 ish to meet up w clara and search for clothes for almira's wedding. Went to lippo bcs clar saw this dress that kinda looks like the brokat given. We ate at ramen ya. It doesnt rly make you feel full, the filliny sensation was kinda like indomie. Saw that the dress looked different. Ate 1 boba pancake together at banban. Continued on to the tailor in kebon jeruk. The location was in an alley, and it was raining lol. Quoting clara: "the unnecessary struggles". The tailor was quite helpful (and she looks experienced). Arrived at clara's at 8 ish. Picked up by mom with car (it was raining) and arrived at abt 9. Hurriedly showered and tarawih and tidied up AND ITS ONLY 09:45. Its crazy how efficient one use time (and at the same time, how wasteful one can be)

13 - first day of fasting. The morning was spent taking samples. I stupidly took a sample thats not yet labeled im sorry :(((( i felt kinda tired and wanted to give up this. Give up anesthesia. Went back home at 14:00 and its cloudy. The bus was the nicer types and it was COLD. Read quran along the way. Picked up by juan. Opened laptop. And then its iftar time. I was sooo sleey and the tarawih was so long thst i closed my eyes along the way. Fianti called after tarawih, we talked til abt 21:30. And then i fell asleep

14 - went to rscm. Submitted serkom files. Met dr dyah and i hope we could somehow meet her again if we study in fkui again aamiin. Went to rsf by mrt. Arrived in lebak bulus just before it was raining. The bus took a while to arrive (usually theyre there, waiting). Its still raining like crazy so i took grabcar to AR from pesakih (39k). Played with my phone til iftar. Played phone again after tarawih and fell asleep

15 - i felt rlyy lazy and cant bring myself to wake up. Off to rsf at 07:15. There were coordinator ppl. Took sample. It was raining when i went back but i took grabbike from kalideres. Wasted my time and did not do ecmocard

16 - sampling. Snacked on keripik pisang at the room. Went back early at 13:15 ish. Picked up by juan. Sleeeept (and this is before the nightmareish mistake began)

17 - i did a mistake by telling dr retha (who took the sample today) the wrong patient (it switched in my unreliable memory. I feel terrible. Thank god shes quite chill abt it (?). Read jujutsu kaiseeen. Went to flavola. Did 1 ecmocard. Went to bandar jakarta baywalk by motorbike. Spent 135k and was quite full with many varieties. Arrived home at about 20:50. Turns out juan also had bukber with his friends. Phone call with fiiii, talked abt dimrob

18 - lazed all day, read jjk, finished my part of ecmocard (gave genky to ekal cause i was a dumbass at getting data). Ate mom's mentai rice, siomay. Drank green tea latte. Read jjk til 145 (mentok) at night. Proceeds to consume all things jjk lmaoo

19 - we took sooo long to get samples. Finished at 13:00. Went to rm with dr rara. Went back home. Watched the third sinau. Read the IMMACULATE jjk fics by celestialmechanics im IN LOVEEEE with the way s/he writes ughhhh

20 - samples took faster than usual. Mba ai did not came today. Went to RM and did some work there. Off to AR by 15:00. Arrived close to maghrib. Did not do any work afterwards lmao. Did not even wash my face

21 - magang as usual. Note to self: sit on the right side of the bus. Did nothing yesterday. Felt like shit after tarawih (but i showered before maghrib!!)

22 - todays problem was the swab sample not being there even though the staff allegedly already took it. Huft. Took a shower and out on vitacid (i cant remember the kast time i put on vitacid 😳 its probably been... a week or two?

23 - samples finished quite quickly. Already going home at 12. Lazedddd and lazed and lazed. Waited for emir to pick me up so i went to dm. Read an immaculate itadori x megumi fix thats just full of feels. Started demon slayer lets see

24 - literally just laid in bed reading manga and seeing tiktok and slept again and suddenly its 1 am. Showered. Still in a lazy mode. Havent begun clires work. Watched leah's vlog that said "go do things youve been putting off!". Finally finished the third and last video of Sinau Yuk ICU class with dr. Zeta, SpAn lolll even though the actual last class was on 7th apr. iftar was fish and chips and salad yuum

25 - woke up at like 1am since i slept too much yesterday. Ate tan ek tjoan bread and drank sbux matcha latte. Did some intern work. Read a bit of quran. Sahur. Cant even sleep again so i showered. Off with mom and dad (09:30) since dad’s going to get vaccinated at skk migas. Mom drove me to ara’s place (11:00). Talked a bit and even read quran again there. Off to GI (13:00) to meet up w regen. Walked around. Bought a discounted TBS green tea facial wash. Went back home by TJ (16:00). the bus station is a bit closer now. Arrived home close to maghrib (17:30). hurriedly showered and went to sleep (properly) after tarawih. A good good sleep since i got 9400 steps today and that tired me out lmaooo (bare minimum yall, i know). 

26 - woke up still sleepy. Slept again after iftar and woke up at 07:30. Skipped shower and off to RSF lmao. Went to medical record. Walked to the front of RSF originally planning to go to lebak bulus by angkot but i saw none. So i went through mrt instead. Stopped by at kebon jeruk and walked 800 meter (that tireeed me and made me feel parched under the sun) to risma busana for clothes fitting. Took gojek to jembatan gantung (turns out the closer halte to flyover was taman kota). Iftar was chicken noodle and risol and banana and i felt fullll and i slept

27 - today is off day since im alternating with agassi. read quran. watched shadow and bone (with 1,5x speed except for kanej and matthias nina scenes). didnt rly do any magang work except the table asked by dr retha. i feel like usually im operating on 70%. sleeping more doesnt rly add that. i need caffeine or physical activity. before i know it, its close to iftar.

28 - i ((felt)) like i had a decent amount of energy today. shouldve done some work between sahur and leaving the house but i ended up reading vampire knight lmaoooo the scenes had no business bringing so much butterflies. sampling together w agassi. mba ai didnt come in today. after agassi left did some magang work. i also went to RM to ask for more RM to bu dian. took angkot to lebak bulus for the first time. paid 5k. i had no idea which angkot went to lebak bulus and the driver (somehow knowing the right words to say) said “lebak bulus lebak bulus”. didnt read much quran on the way back. i just close my eyes and relaxed. felt kinda low on sugar. watched more shadow and bone on the way back and at home until close to iftar. didnt do anything after tarawih. slept hoping i woke up early (which i did, at 3am. but i slept again)

29 - im supposed to have ample energy but i just stuck around my bed until its time to get ready to go. read some kanej fic lol. I dont rly do anything productive after arriving home

30 - made intern log, magang as usual. Did not go to rm. Finished watching shadow and bone. Rested bcs tomorrow's saturdayyy

[jjmaybanksbaby]

The Summer Game: The Kook Party (Chapter 1)

word count - 3.2k words

warning- a fair amount of swearing, underage drinking, some smut at the end, vomiting/throwing up

Meets the OCs! Ember Elizabeth Mason Blakely Marie Turner

Catch Up On the Story! Prologue

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The second that Blakely woke up, a wave of nauesa hit her. She covered her mouth with her hand and ran to her attached bathroom, desperately trying to avoid puking her guts all over her bedroom. She kneeled in front of the toilet just in time for the evidence of last night to make an appearance. A horrible headache loomed in the back of her skull. This was not an ideal way to start the morning but Blakely lknew better than anyone how to handle a hangover. 

The events of last night were still fresh in her mind and Blakely didn’t have much trouble remembering them. Blakely had swiped a bottle of champagne before Ember and her had snuck out of their own graduation dinner to escaped to the beach. While they had sat there, staring at the ocean, Ember had proposed a sort of game to ensure the summer was that much more interesting. The girls had laid on the sand ironing out details and drowning themselves in champagne until Ember’s mother found them. The disappointment on her face when she discovered the girls covered in sand and well on their way to drunk was obvious. But Blakely was use to disappointing her parents so she didn’t care much; however, she felt a bit bad for her best friend who was sure to get a stern talking to about responsibility or something like that. 

Blakely peeled herself off the bathroom floor and stood in front of her mirror. She went through her daily skin routine, something she’d been doing since the first signs of acne appeared on her face in 6th grade. If she had nothing out, Blakely had flawless skin. She twisted her long blonde hair into a bun at the top of her head, examine herself in the mirror for a moment more before finally heading downstairs in search of something to eat. 

Blakely entered the kitchen to find her mom sitting at the island, a cup of coffee in one hand and her phone in the other. No one could ever accuse Blakely’s mom of being “tech-illiterate”. She was up to date on all the lastest who’s who and what’s what across every social media. While some kids might love having such a hip mom, Blakely found this extremely annoying. 

Blakely walked over the platter of pastry sitting in the middle of the island. Her dad had the biggest sweet tooth so there was always some form of sugar laying around the house. 

“Oh, honey. Are you sure you want to eat that?” Blakely’s mom said as Blakely reached for pastry. “Why don’t you have something a little healthier. You don’t wanna start the freshman 15 early now, do you?” 

This was subtle way Blakely’s mom had body-shamed her ever since she hit her teen years. It was never explicitly just a little comment here and there about what Blakely was eating or how great another girl looked in her size 00 whatever. You couldn’t even call it “fat-shaming” because Blakely had never weighted more than 115 pounds in her life. 

Blakely replaced the croissant she had picked and grabbed a banana from the bowl of fruit instead. Sometimes she would ignore the comments from her mother and do whatever she pleased but right now, the hangover was putting her in no mood to get into a fight with her mom. 

Down the street in the Mason household, Ember wasn’t having that much better of a morning. Ember’s older brother, Dylan, had decided today was a great day to announce to the family that he was dropping out of Brown to focus his energy on his start-up. The concept for which had yet to decided so really he just wad dropping out of college. 

Ember had grabbed her plate of breakfast and made a quick exit from the kitchen after her brother dropped this bomb. Now, she was sitting on her bed listening to muffled sounds of the argument coming from below. In reality, she owed her brother a small thank you. His announcement would take the heat off her for a little while. Lately, her mom had been pressuring her to make some firm decision about what she was going to study in the fall but Ember couldn’t seem to picture any of her future. 

Ember reached over and grabbed her cell phone off her bedside table. She unlocked it and sent a quick next to Blakely. 

E: want to go for a drive? family drama bleh 

B: be there in 15 bb

Ember and Blakely’s drives were a staple of their friendship. They had taken the first one the day Blakely had turned 16 and been gifted a Jeep by parents and they’d only grown from there. Sometimes they would talk the whole time, venting to one other about their problems. Other times, they would blast the music and scream every word. 

Just as Ember was about to get up and change into something other her pajamas, her phone buzzed with another notification. She opened to find a text from Sarah Cameron to their group chat. 

Sarah: party tn @ kelce’s place 9pm be there bitches 

Ember shut off her phone without responding to the text. She knew Blakely and her would go, there wasn’t a party on Figure Eight that they missed. It partying was an olympic sport, Ember and Blakely would have more gold metals than they could count. They could turn any party into the best time and more importantly, they knew their limits so they were never the ones throwing up and having to be carried home. It was a science they had long mastered. 

Ember traded in her sweatpants for a pair of faded denim short and pulled a Georgetown crewneck over the cami she had slept in. She ran a brush through her gorgeous brown hair before finally pulling it up in a ponytail. Only a moment after she had finished getting ready she heard Blakely pull into her driveway. Ember slide her phone into the back pocket of her shorts, slipped on a pair of sandals and ran down the stairs. 

“I’m going on a drive with Blakely.” Ember yelled as she slipped out the front door. 

Ember strutted down the driveway putting on a little show for her best friend before she pulled herself up into Blakely’s Jeep. Ember plugged her phone into the aux cord, queuing up one of their classic driving playlist as Blakely backed out of the driveway. 

“So,” Blakely started. “What’s new in the Mason household?” 

“Dylan is dropping out of Brown to, and I quote ‘focus on his start-up’.” Ember replied. 

“Since when does he have a start-up?” Blakely asked. 

“That’s the best part. He doesn’t even really have one. My parents are trying to talk him out of it but he’s turning 21 in July so there’s really not much they can do to stop him.” 

“Shit.” Blakely laughed. “Didn’t see that one coming from Dylan.” 

“How life in the Turner home?” Ember question. 

“Just my mother preaching her ‘A man won’t love you if you weight more than 120 pounds’ bullshit per usual.” 

“You know that’s not true right?” Ember said. 

“Yeah, I know.” Blakely responded. “Half the time it’s just easier to eat the nasty whole wheat shit rather than start a fight with her.” 

Ember glanced over at her best friend. “Should we get coffee?” 

“Yes, please.” Blakely said a she turned onto Main Street, heading to their favorite coffee shop. 

•••

It wasn’t until later in the day, when the girls were at Blakely’s house, getting ready for Kelce’s party that one of them brought up the game. 

Blakely was standing in front of her full length mirror in just her undergarment holding up different dress opinions. So far, none of them were clear winners. Ember was sitting at Blakely’s vanity transforming her straight brown hair into beachy waves. 

“If I fuck Kelce tonight, I’m still counting it for full points because even though we’ve done it before.” Blakely declared as she held a leopard print slip dress up to her chest. 

“Are you gonna fuck Kelce tonight?” Ember countered. 

Blakely shrugged her shoulders. “It wasn’t bad the last time. Plus I keep getting vibes that he wants to do it again.” 

The first and only other time that Blakely had slept with Kelce had been during the senior spring break trip to Florida back in April. Both Blakely and Kelce had been pretty tipsy when it happened and they didn’t talk about it afterwards but Blakely wouldn’t be too surprised if it happened again tonight.

Blakely disappeared into her closet to search for her hot pink chunky heels to pair with the dress. “Who do you have your eyes on tonight?” She yelled out to Ember. 

Ember set the curling iron down for a minute and sighed deeply. “Nobody really.” She admitted. “God, I hope there’s some body new at this party.”

“Willing to take half points and slum it with a Touron?”

“You know Tourons never end up at Kook parties.” Ember answered as she went back to curling her hair. 

“You never know babe. Tonight could be your lucky night.” Blakely said. 

“I doubt it.” Ember muttered softly to herself, not feeling very optimistic. 

•••

Ember and Blakely walked into the party just after 9:30. The bass coming from the speakers was so loud it caused the walls to shake slightly. The furniture had been pushed to the sides of the room to make space for a dance floor which was covered with plenty of couples pressed up against each other. The stench of beer was overwhelming and the number of red solo littered around the house made it obviously that many of the night’s activity would be alcohol induced.  

Sarah Cameron jumped up from her spot on Topper’s lap when she spotted Ember and Blakely enter the room. 

“You came!” She giggled, pulling the girls into a hug. Her breath reeked of alcohol and she had to yell over the music for Ember and Blakey to hear her. “Oh my gosh Blakely! Kelce has already asked about you twice!” She held up two fingers in front of Blakely’s face as to emphasis her point. 

A smirk slowly spread across Blakely’s face. “Did he now?” Blakely threw her arm over Ember’s shoulder. “Should we go find the boys?” She asked her. 

“I’m sure they’ve been patiently waiting our arrival.” Ember replied. 

Sarah lead Ember and Blakely through the dance floor to the corner where Topper, Rafe and Kelce were currenlty camped out. 

“Look who finally showed up.” Rafe said as the girl approached. 

“We wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” Blakely responded as she plopped down between Rafe and Kelce. 

“Be a gentlemen and get us some drinks, Rafe.” Ember said, shoving him off the end of the couch so she’d have room to sit down. 

“Get your own damn drinks, princess.” He snapped. 

Ember pushed out her bottom lip in a pout. “Please Cameron.” 

Rafe rolled his eyes before stomping away in the direction of the keg. Kelce stiffed a laugh as Rafe walked away. 

“He’s for sure afraid of you two.” Kelce said. 

Blakely turned to face Kelce and ran one of her fingers down his biceps causing his adam’s apple to bob. 

“And what are you?” She asked him. 

Kelce took a long drink from the cup he was holding. “This feels like a trick question that I’m gonna pass on.”

Blakely playful smacked Kelce on the arm. “What a cop out.”

Rafe finally returned to the group holding a few couple of beer between his fingers.

“Rafe’s back with the beer. Thank God.” Ember said, taking the drinks from him.

“You’ll aren’t gonna fucking believe who’s here.” Rafe said. 

“Who?” Blakely asked as she took a sip of her beer. 

“Kiara.” 

Ember froze at the sound of Kie’s name. “She’s here?” Ember managed to say. 

“Right over there.” Rafe pointed over his shoulder to the kitchen. 

“What the hell is she doing here?” Blakely asked. 

“Oh! I invited her!” Sarah chirped. 

Ember’s eyes got big. “Why the fuck would you invite her?” 

Sarah rolled her eyes dramatically. “We talked it and we’re friends again so I invited her. Friends invite friends to their parties, duh.” 

One look at Ember’s face let Blakely know that Ember was about two seconds away from going off on Sarah if she didn’t intervene. 

“Kelce.” Blakely said. “I think Ember here need’s something a little stronger than this beer. Where might you be hiding the good stuff?” 

“In my dad’s study. Third door on the right. Don’t mess up anything.” 

Blakely leaned down to whisper into ear, “You’ll be properly rewarded for this when I get back.” Then she grabbed Ember’s hand and pulled her up. “C’mon Ember, we’re way too sober to deal with this shit.” She flashed Sarah some deathly side away before walking away. 

“I can’t believe she fucking invited her.” Ember said the moment they were out of earshot of the others. 

“I can’t believe how fucking annoying Sarah is the second she gets a drop of alcohol in her system. Like learn how to hold your liquor.” Blakely replied as she opened one of the doors in the halfway. She sighed in frustration when it was only the laundry room. She spun around and opened the door across the hall. This time, the door opened to reveal an expensive looking study. “Bingo.” 

“She may have forgiven Kiara for all the shit she caused but I’m never going to.” Ember said as she followed Blakely into the study. Ember sunk down into the leather couch that was positioned under the large window while Blakely flung open the cabinets behind the large oak desk in search of some vodka. 

“Okay so simple solution. Just grind on Rafe all night and pretend Kiara doesn’t even exist.” Blakely opened the bottom cabinet on the right to find it stocked full of top shelf liquors. She shuffled the bottles around until she found a bottle of Tito’s. “Now were talkin’.” Blakely said. 

Blakely unscrewed the cap and took a decent size swig before walking over and handing the bottle to her friend. Ember happily accepted it and pressed the bottle to her lips, taking a decent sized swig herself. 

“You gonna be okay if we go back out there?” Blakely asked Ember. 

“Sarah’s a bitch.” Ember replied. 

Blakely laughed in response. “And Kiara’s a fake who doesn’t deserve the time of day from you. Now, let’s go.” She stood up once again and offered Ember her hand. Ember let Blakely lead her back out to party, determined to not let Kiara’s unwanted appearance ruin her night. 

When they rejoined the group, Ember grabbed Rafe’s hand and dragged him out to the dance floor.

“Woah, woah woah.” Rafe protested. “You know I don’t spend parties on the dance floor.” 

Ember turned around to face him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her face was inches from his. “Can you just shut up and let me dance on you for a while.” 

Rafe threw his hands in surrender. “Anything for you, princess.” 

Ember took another swing from the bottle of vodka that now had become permanently attached to her hand before turning back around and grinding her hips into Rafe’s pelvis. 

Meanwhile, Blakley had wasted no time climbed onto Kelce, straddling his legs.

“I think it’s about time you get that reward I promised you.” 

Kelce brought his hands to Blakely’s ass and gave it a little squeeze. “I think so too.” He said. 

Blakely cupped his face in her hands and pressed her lips against his. Kelce tangled his hands in Blakely’s hand as he slipped his tounge into her mouth. Blakely slide closer to him as the kiss turned increasingly sloppy. 

“Let’s go upstairs.” Kelce said as Blakely lowered her face to leave a hickey on his neck. She nodded and quickly slide off his lap. Kelce grabbed her hand and lead the way up the stairs to his bedroom. He had barely kicked the door closed before Blakely was attaching her lips back to his. 

The two of them stumped backwards in the dark room searching for the bed until Blakely back fell onto it. Kelce broke away from the kiss for a moment to pull his shirt over his head and Blakely felt a tingle between her legs at the sight of his perfeclty chiseled stomach.

Kelce slide back on top of her, moving his mouth down to leave little marks on her throat. Blakely wrapped her legs around his wasit in an attempt to keep him close to her. Kelce slide the straps of her dress down her arms until Blakely’s boobs slipped out. Kelce moved down her body and attached his mouth to her left nippled. He flicked her nipple with his tounge while he squeezed her other boob causing Blakely’s back to arc in pleasure as she screamed his name. 

Kelce started to plant kisses trailing down Blakely’s stomach when the door to his bedroom opened and Rafe bust in.

“Hate to interrupt what’s going on up here but Ember is puking her guts out downstairs and you need to go handle it.” 

Blakely let out an audiable groan as she sat up and slipped her dress back up onto her shoulders. She gave Kelce the kindest smile she could mangane. “Let’s finsh this another time, kay?” 

Even more than securing points for the game, Blakely was disappointed that she and Kelce had been interrupted. Blakely wasn’t interested in doing anything other than sleeping with Kelce but based on how the night had been doing, the sex would have been quite good.

Blakely hurried down the stairs to find Ember leaning over the kitchen sink. Sarah was holding back her hair and rubbing small cirles on Ember’s back as She vommitted into the sink. The bottle of Tito’s the girls had taken from Kelce’s dad’s office was on the floor completely empty. Blakely did a quick calculation in her head. She had taken a few shots of it but other than that, Ember must have drunken the majority of it.

“Oh fuck.” Blakely said which got Sarah’s attention. 

“Look’s who here. It’s Blakely. She gonna take you home and make sure you’re alright. How does that sound?” Sarah said to Ember in a voice usually resrved for puppies and small children. 

Blakely’s mentally rolled her eyes at the Cameron girl. “Thanks so much Sarah.” Blakely said in the sweetest voice she could muster up. “Ember is lucky to have you.” 

“I hope she’ll be okay.” Sarah replied. 

Blakely just smiled at Sarah and turned to Ember. “It’s time to get you outta here.” Blakely slung Ember’s arm around shoulder and half dragged, half carried Ember out of Kelce’s house, trying not to make too much of a scene.

They only had to stop one time on the way to Blakely’s car for Ember to puke. Blakely held back Ember’s hair as she barfed into the bushes out front of Kelce’s house. 

“We’re definitely gonna have to talk about this in the morning.” Blakely said to Ember. Tonight had make it incredibly obvious that Ember wasn’t over what had went down with Kiara four years ago. It hadn’t take one unexpected appearance at a party for Ember to throw all her boundaries out the window and get totally shit faced.

Blakely lead Ember to her Jeep that was parked just a bit down the street from Kelce’s house. She helped Ember up into the passenger seat then walked around the driver’s side and slide behind the wheel. 

“Please God don’t puck in my car Ember.” Blakely said as she turned on the ignition and shifted the car in drive. “And you definitely aren’t gonna remember this in the morning but I’m offically ahead in the game so at least tonight didn’t suck for both of us.” She added as she speed down the road toward home. 

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

a/n - i hope y’all enjoyed the first chapter! there’s gonna be a whole lot exposed about kie’s and ember’s past in the following parts so get ready for that!!!

comments/feedback are always appreciated!! :)

check out my entire masterlist here!

taglist! (drop a “🦋” in my inbox to be added to The Summer Game taglist)

[dontmindthefangirling]

Broken Nose {t.h.}

part 2!

Tom Holland x Female Reader

gif by @spideres

Summary: You’ve just gotten a new job as an on-set medic for Spider-Man: Far From Home to be on stand by for any injuries that may occur during stunts. When the star of the movie, Tom Holland, breaks his nose from a particularly bad fall, you fix his broken nose but can he fix your broken heart?

Warnings: mentions of past emotionally abusive relationship; swearing

Disclaimer: I do not know Tom Holland personally or any of the staff of Spider-Man Far From Home

part 1 | series masterlist

-

You were sitting at the medical tent, bouncing your knee up and down as you did when you were nervous. You were drumming your fingers along the table when James slid into the seat next to you, holding two cups of coffee. He raised an eyebrow at you and slowly slid your coffee towards you.

“I got you this, but it seems like you don’t need any caffeine,” he said. 

You shot him a glare, but accepted the coffee. “Thanks.”

“What’s got you so freaked out?” James asked before taking a sip of his coffee. You let out a deep breath and looked at him. You didn’t want to admit to him that you were actually nervous that Tom was coming back to the set today because James had finally let up on teasing you about him having a crush on you. 

“I don’t know,” you said with a shrug, trying to calm your nerves. Your eyes kept flickering towards the entry and exit points of the set, hoping to see the curly-haired star walk through.

James was quiet for a while, yawning as he pulled out his phone. 

“Oh!” James gasped with a laugh. “It’s Tuesday!”

“Congrats, you can read,” you teased with a grin, but James was smirking at you while holding his phone. 

“You’re excited because Tom is coming back today,” James chuckled while poking you. 

“Shut up.”

“So it’s true!” James laughed. 

“No, it’s not!” you hissed, hoping that James would keep his voice down. The last thing you needed was someone overhearing your conversation about the star of the movie. You knew how fast gossip traveled on sets. 

“It’s not,” you said, lowering your voice. “I’m just on edge, okay?”

“Because Tom is coming back-”

“James!”

James leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. “Look, all I’m saying (Y/N) is that when he was loopy from the pain of his nose, the only thing he could talk about was how pretty he thought you were.”

Your cheeks flushed and you sipped your coffee nervously as you looked anywhere but James so that he wouldn’t see the blush that dusted your cheeks.

“And he even asked about you when he wasn’t loopy, so what does that tell you?” James added. 

You shot James a glare as if to tell him to shut up. 

“It tells me that he was grateful that we helped him,” you countered.

“Right, but he didn’t ask about me, he asked about you,” James smirked. 

“I was the primary care medic-”

“(Y/N)! Why can’t you accept that maybe he like-”

“James, stop,” you snapped, your voice suddenly turning harsh and the amusement vanishing from your expression. James stared at you, the smile disappearing from his face. He let out a deep breath and looked back at his coffee cup. An uncomfortable silence fell between you as you looked down at your lap.

James let out a sigh. “(Y/N)...I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I just want you to be happy.”

You looked at James, and he met your eyes with sincerity. You knew James had good intentions and he definitely wasn’t thinking about...him. 

“I know,” you said, smiling softly at your best friend. “It’s okay.”

James looked like he wanted to say more when Mike came over to your table, looking disheveled as he held a clipboard in one hand and his cell phone in the other, glancing back and forth between the clipboard, his phone, and you. 

“Hi Mike,” you greeted, hoping to pull him out of his distracted state so he could tell you what was wrong. Mike only came over if someone needed some sort of medical attention. 

“Hey,” he said, finishing whatever it was he was typing before he looked up and finally acknowledged you and James’s existences. “Um, one of our makeup artists is feeling extremely light-headed. She almost passed out so we have her sitting down, but could you guys come take a look?”

“Yeah, sure,” James said as you both stood up in unison, grabbing your go-bags and following Mike to the patient. 

-

The makeup artist seemed to have low blood sugar so she was feeling much better when you and James gave her some water and some oral glucose. By the time you left, she was feeling much better.

“Hey, I’m gonna run to the bathroom, but I’ll meet you back at the table,” James said. You nodded as he rushed off. All that coffee probably. 

You turned around just as the doe-eyed movie star approached you. He looked like he had just arrived on set in his shorts and white T-shirt. He was smiling, and his face looked much better from the last time you saw him. There was a small amount of bruising still on his nose, but the bruising around his cheeks was gone. 

“Hey,” he greeted you, and instantly your heart picked up its pace.

“Hey,” you said back, smiling. You could smell his cologne from where you stood and suddenly you were thinking about how he had called you pretty. “You look much better from the last time I saw you.”

Tom chuckled. “Yeah, I’m feeling better, too.”

“That’s good,” you smiled. “Happy to be back?”

“Oh you wouldn’t believe how crazy I felt being stuck in that hotel for a week,” Tom laughed. “But I, uh, I wanted to thank you.”

You shook your head. “You don’t have to. It’s my job.”

Tom shoved his hands in his pockets and smiled softly. “I know. But, Harrison told me how you stood up for me to the producers, and it means a lot.”

You shrugged your shoulders, ignoring the way your heart fluttered at his words. “You needed rest, and I wasn’t about to let you injure yourself more.”

The fact that Tom said that Harrison told him how you stood up for him meant that he didn’t remember it happening himself. You also began to think about how that probably meant he didn’t remember calling you pretty in front of the entire Spider-Man cast. 

Tom gave you a close-lipped smile, and you caught yourself thinking that he looked cute, but you immediately shoved that thought out of your mind. 

“He, uh...he also told me that I said...some things?” Tom chuckled nervously while scratching the back of his neck. Your cheeks flushed and you also laughed out of nerves. 

“Oh! Yeah, um-”

“I’m really sorry,” Tom apologized sheepishly. “If I embarrassed you, I’m really sorry.”

“You didn’t,” you said quickly. “I know it was just the pain talking.”

“Yeah, I mean, I don’t even remember saying it,” Tom laughed. 

Your smile faltered a little bit at his words and your heart sank a little bit. A part of you was hoping that James was right and that Tom did really think you were pretty and maybe even liked you, but now as you looked at him in front of you, with his expensive sunglasses on the top of his head and his shiny watch, and the amount of people that walked by saying hello to him, you knew how far-fetched that was.

“Don’t worry about it,” you assured him. 

Tom smiled at you once more and let out a breath as if all the relief suddenly just hit him.

“Thank you, again, really,” he said. You nodded at him just as James approached you. 

“Hey guys,” he greeted, wiping his hands on his tactical pants, earning a glare from you. 

“Hey man,” Tom said, shaking James’s hand. “I was just thanking (Y/N) for helping me, and I wanted to thank you too, and please don’t say it’s your job because I’m going to thank you anyway.”

James laughed. “No problem, man.”

Tom looked between you and James, his gaze lingering on you a little longer, before he glanced at his watch. 

“Well, I gotta run, but I’ll see you guys around.”

You and James said goodbye as Tom walked away, instantly being whisked away by makeup artists and costume designers before disappearing through a set of doors. 

As soon as he was gone, you let out the breath you were holding and briskly walked back towards the medical tent, with James hot on your heels. 

“What happened?” James asked, obviously itching to know if Tom professed his undying love for you.

“He just thanked me,” you said casually, taking your seat. 

“That’s all?” James prodded. 

“That’s all.”

-

“Did you talk to (Y/N)?” Harrison asked as he stuffed his mouth with a piece of a croissant. 

Tom sat at the make-up chair, staring at himself in the mirror as the artist got supplies ready. 

“Yeah, I thanked her and James,” Tom replied, sipping his coffee.

“That’s it?” Harrison asked, raising an eyebrow at Tom through the mirror. Tom furrowed his eyebrows and turned around in his chair to look at Harrison directly. 

“What is up with you?” Tom questioned. 

Harrison shrugged his shoulders as he took another bite of his croissant. “You were very interested in her while you were resting.”

Tom’s cheeks flushed as he turned back around in his chair. He had been fascinated with you as soon as he shook your hand on your first day on set and even more so when you knocked Freddie down a few pegs. 

“I was just glad she stood up for me,” Tom grumbled as he fiddled with his hands in his lap. 

“Tom, you asked me how she was wearing her hair one day-”

“Stop.”

Silence fell between the two boys, with the only sound being Harrison’s chewing. Tom had noticed how his heart seemed to flutter when he was talking to you, but he had finally got it back down to normal speed.

“I may have told her that you had asked about-”

“Harrison!” Tom gasped, turning his head and staring at his best friend with wide eyes. “You didn’t!”

“Dude, you obviously want to get to know her better-”

“I just told her I didn’t remember anything about when I broke my nose!”

Harrison stared at Tom and almost dropped his croissant. “Tom, why the fuck would you do that?”

“Because I was embarrassed!” 

Harrison sighed and shook his head. “Bro, you literally contradicted yourself. Why would you ask about her if you didn’t remember her literally saving you?”

“Well I obviously didn’t know that you told her I had asked about her!” Tom exclaimed, exasperated as he rubbed his eyes. His heartbeat was thumping in his ears as he turned back around in his chair. You probably thought he was an idiot. 

“Why is it so bad if you admitted to her that you think she’s pretty?” Harrison asked, his voice low. 

Tom chewed on his bottom lip as he looked down at his lap. It didn’t matter whether or not he thought you were pretty and wanted to get to know you better because he knew it would never work. Your lifestyles were just too different. 

-

“You’re staring,” James whispered under his breath. The sound of his voice instantly snapped you back into reality as you watched Tom walk by in his Spider-Man costume. He waved quickly to you and James to which you both waved back, however, your eyes lingered on him as he kept walking, a crowd of people surrounding him. 

“I am not,” you huffed, looking down at your nails quickly. 

“Are you sure he didn’t say anything else when he talked to you earlier?” James prodded. 

“Stop asking about it or I’ll stab you with a syringe,” you hissed. 

“Jeez! That’s dark (Y/N),” James chuckled while crossing his arms over his chest. You kept your eyes on your nails, picking off whatever nail polish was left. 

Silence, once again, fell between the two of you as some girls came by and began flirting with James almost immediately. You rolled your eyes as they complimented his muscles, and James was eating it up, but you knew he was never serious. He just loved the ego boost. 

When the girls finally left, James turned back to you, his eyes watching you as your lips seemed to be stuck in a frown as you picked off your nail polish. 

“You know I just want you to be happy, right?” he said gently. 

“I know,” you murmured. 

“And if Tom-”

“James, I understand that you want me to be happy, but trying to set me up with a movie star is probably the last thing I need right now,” you sighed, looking over at James and meeting his icy blue eyes. “I’ve been fine on my own, especially since Will, and I doubt being thrown into the spotlight with one of the hottest movie stars in Hollywood right now would be great for my sanity.”

James stared at you, and you had to look away because you hated the look he’d get in his eyes whenever Will’s name was brought up. It was a mix of pity for you and hatred for him. 

“Besides, Tom would never be interested in me anyway,” you murmured with a dry chuckle.

-

Little did you know, Tom was nearby on set, unable to peel his eyes away from you. You looked so sad, and something in him wanted to go over and find out was wrong. 

He glanced over to where Harrison was sitting, talking to Jacob in between takes, and Tom took a deep breath.

Harrison was right. Why did it matter if he let you know he thought you were pretty?

Maybe he should tell you.

-

part 3

tessa will be making another appearance in part 3 ;)

Taglist: (i realized i missed a bunch of notifications asking for people to be added to the taglist!! so im so sorry if i forgot you!!) @greenarrowhead // @likeit-or-leaveit // @badpvn // @ eternal-I-appel-du-vide // @thollandx // @aliceinwhateverland // @danicarosaline // @eye-of-the-owl // @binaruma // @wonders-of-the-multiverse // @fandomdarlings // @spideyyeet // @apseventy // @sidheag-the-witch // @mlt2000 // @lawrencekate

[nameless-shrimp]

— silence (chapter three sneak peek).

-

here's a sneak peek of chapter three of my fic, silence. the reader is a female and she is deaf. it's almost 5 in the morning, i will get to finish this chapter and upload it once i am done with my quiz tomorrow since i really wanna continue writing this, hahaha, anyways here you go. i need to sleep, i would edit this more but i will just wait until i post the official chapter hehehe

-

He ran into you again.

Satoru was patiently waiting outside the gates of the school, wondering where Geto was so that they could both make their way to meet Yaga for whatever mission that they would be assigned to for the week. He sighed, kicking his feet against small pebbles on the sidewalk. He knew that he couldn’t be late for another meeting with Yaga, though he was very moody for some type of pastry.

Then again, knowing who he was, he wasn’t surprised at his sudden cravings. Not bothering to wait up for Geto, he decided to make his way to the bakery that was a few blocks away from the school.

As he walked down the sidewalk, he glanced around his school. It really did look like a religious school, though the average human would think that, and then Satoru continued to whistle his thoughts away (ranging from wondering where Geto could be to figuring out the kind of pastry he was craving—so was it chocolate croissants or maybe, a pecan pie today?) despite the stares he’d get from people that would walk past him.

It didn’t take him long to reach the bakery, where Satoru opened the door to find that the bakery wasn’t as busy, most likely because it wasn’t a rush hour kind-of-time.

Not that he was complaining, though.

Satoru took out his phone, deciding to scroll through his past images of him and Geto grabbing dinner the other night. (Half of them were blurry, most likely because Geto was trying to take his phone away before the brisket was gonna burn on the grill).

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but we don’t have anyone that knows sign language.”

The voice was audible, and it was the usual old lady that ran the bakery that caught his attention. However, he trailed his eyes up, gazing his attention to the lady he recognized before he minded his own business and he opened up some messages from Yaga-sensei, and as per usual, it had to deal with exorcising grade two curses.

Christ, a lot of this was starting to become tiring; at least, it seemed like a lot of people knew that Satoru was the strongest since everyone began to rely on him.

Someone in front of him left their position in line, so Satoru moved up a bit, scrolling through his phone as usual. He bit his bottom lip, wondering if he should’ve brought some lollipops with him so that he could’ve kept his cravings at bay.

“I appreciate you typing out what your order is on the phone.”

He looked up once again after taking a few steps forward, not minding the person in front of him as he was browsing the pastries. It seemed like that the croissants were freshly baked a while ago, as expected from this place—it was the best; donuts sounded like a good option as well too. Sprinkles, icing, or maybe some sort of jelly filled treat. It really made him itch for a sweet, and he felt himself wrinkling his nose at the tasty thought.

“Gojo Satoru!” The old lady perked her voice out loud and Satoru shot a grin, waving at the lady who had her usual pink glasses and a bright smile on her face. It seemed like the person next to Satoru shifted a bit as they were fiddling with their wallet, though it wasn’t Satoru’s business.

“Hey Yuki,” Satoru greeted. “I’m not sure what I’m craving for today.”

“Would you like to try a red bean donut?”

“I’d like something sweeter,” he grinned.

The old woman chuckled, her laugh vibrating a large aura of positive energy—something that Satoru had always admired. “It’s no surprise coming from you. I can even make you a crepe if you want, you know? Chocolate and bananas?”

“Ah,” Satoru held up his phone, checking if Geto had texted him of his whereabouts, but it seemed as if Satoru had no update. He tapped his foot, debating if he should stay for some time to eat. 

The person next to Satoru had dropped a couple of dollar bills in the tip jar, earning a welcoming source of gratitude from the lady. However, Satoru’s thoughts were interrupted once the sound of plastic bags had fallen to the floor.

Satoru looked down to see the customer that was next to him bend down to pick up the bags of bagels. He bent down to pick up two bags—it seemed like this person liked cinnamon raisin and plain bagels—and handed them off to them. “Here you go,” Satoru sent off a generous smile.

The person in front of him tensed up and looked up at him, their hood had fallen down to their shoulders.

And—his breath hitched.

-

i wonder who he saw, lmao!! goodnight from me, friends. ʕ˵·ᴥ·ʔ

-

[preface2adreamplay]

Under Your Spell (Part 21) - Let Me Twist It A Little Deeper

Summary: A Jared Padalecki/OFC /Oscar Isaac fiction.

Stef is not having the best weekend at the con.

Chapter warnings: Flirting, swearing, infidelity. masturbation, angst. 

Chapter WC: 3,554

Everything was packed and ready to go. Stef lay in bed, unable to switch off the noise of the day.

‘Come on, Stef, go asleep,’ she told herself. Pushing off the covers and pulling them back on again. Tossing and turning didn’t cover how much she had moved around. 

Finally, she gave up. Grabbing her phone from her bedside table. 4am. 

Claire was staying with Richard. Jared was with his family and who knows where Oscar was. 

She scrolled through insta for a while, seeing all the photos fans had shared from the previous day. A headache was forming behind her eyes, it was gonna be one of the bad ones, she knew. 

‘Fucking sleep!’ Stef cursed. Only one thing left to try. Reaching down under the sheets, Stef rolled her fingers around her clit, the first thought that came to her mind was Jared on stage, smiling and joking. The next thought was him shirtless, the last time he was in her bedroom, jeans hanging low on his hips, arm muscles bulging while he fished around on the floor for his clothes. 

Breathing out a soft groan, Stef continued, fingers finding her opening hot and wet. She slid inside, one finger. Jared breathing on her neck, sucking soft kisses against her jaw, his voice in her ear, ‘c’mon Stef, give it to me.’ 

It was a phrase he liked to use when he was in a playful mood, she would relinquish control of her pleasure to him. When he took control of her, his hands, his mouth, his voice would be everywhere, all over her. His mouth humming against her in the most delicious way. And she would ride waves of pleasure. 

Stef felt her walls contracting around her finger, her body trembling and finally stilled as she drifted into a disturbed and dream filled sleep.

Oscar had taken her by the hand, dragging her through the crowds, ‘look at them!’ he kept yelling over his shoulder. ‘Let go of me, I can’t go with you.’ Stef tried to twist her arm from his grip. They stopped at the stage where the Q&A had been. Jared sat with his wife in his lap, giggling with her between kisses. Instant fiery hot jealousy raged through her. ‘Look at them!’ Oscar said again. His dark eyes on the couple that were wrapped up in each other. Stef drew her gaze away, unable to look at them any longer. Oscar didn’t flinch when Stef waved her hand in front of his face, he was in a daze, his mouth open in a soft smile. ‘Help me get away.’ Stef shouted. Jared started, seeing Stef below him. ‘No wait, come back.’ He begged. 

Stef was running, the carpet beneath her bare feet was turning into steps too high for her to climb, she couldn’t run hard enough to get away. An arm caught her as she tumbled. 

Stef couldn’t hold back her tears, burying her face in the chest of the man holding her up. 

Stef woke suddenly, throwing the blankets away. Running her hands down her face, she glanced at herself in the mirror across the room. She was perspiring, hair was clinging to her neck. ‘What the actual fuck?’ 

Stef didn’t dream much, but that one made her feel sick to her stomach.

Wiping the bathroom mirror clean after a hotter than hell shower, Stef looked at her face, wanting the woman looking back at her to settle her nerves, tell her she wasn’t being an idiot, it went with the territory. 

Why are you really fucking surprised, was all she said. 

Stef sat on the side of the bath tub and cried. 

Claire had done her best to make up for not being around. When she finally got around to coming back to the hotel room they were sharing, Stef was dressed and fresh faced.

‘Did you sleep?’ Claire rummaged through her bag looking for clean clothes.

‘Not much. I bet it’s pointless to ask if you got sleep last night.’ Stef winked seeing Claire trying to hide a coy smile.

‘I have to shower but then we are definitely having breakfast. There is a thing on later that I wanna check out but I’ll be back before lunch and then we can head back to the airport, k?’ 

Claire was being overly nice, her voice raising a little higher with every sentence.

‘Richard wouldn’t happen to be doing the thing you’re interested in, is he?’ Stef finished applying a second layer of mascara. 

‘Maybe,’ Claire elongated the word, disappearing into the bathroom.

Stef’s phone beeped. Picking it up she saw a message from Jared.

Jared: Good morning sweet thang. x

Stef put the phone back down and checked herself in the mirror. Heaving a sigh, she gathered herself, put on a smile and bent to put on her Nike’s. There would be more walking today, it called for comfortable footwear. Her jeans were loose around her waist, she hadn’t realised she had lost some weight. Not too much to be noticeable she thought. 

Claire was singing in the shower. Stef chuckled, hearing it was one of her older songs, Claire loved the band Stef was taking a break from.

Shit, she thought, remembering one of the members had called her a couple of days previous to ask when she was available to meet up.

Every year or so they would meet, see what was going on with each other and decide if they would do new music or not. 

Hitting the call button, her old friend answered straight away.

‘Hey, Stef! How are you?’

‘Sorry I kinda forgot to call you back, Nik, I’m in Toronto right now.’

‘Yeah, I was talking to Oscar yesterday he told me he ran into you over there. Having fun?’

‘The most fun,’ she lied. 

‘We are meeting Friday night at that bar you hate.’ Nik blew smoke down the phone. Stef knew the sounds of him inhaling and exhaling like his life depended on that one cigarette.

‘I’ll be there.’

‘Great!’ He did sound excited. Stef smiled, excited to catch up with them.

‘Gotta go, I’ll get the details from you during the week.’

‘For sure. Later, Stef.’

‘Was that Jared?’ Claire peeked out from behind the bathroom door, steam billowing behind her. Strands of dark red hair plastered against her face.

‘Nah. Nik. Band meeting.’

‘Oh,’ Claire seemed a little disappointed. ‘Will you see Jared before we leave?’ Her voice kept on the side of casual/hopeful instead of the misery Stef felt creeping into her bones.  

‘I’d like to think so, but, with his family showing up I don’t know if he can get away.’

Stef didn’t have to hear Claire tutting from the bathroom to know how she felt about it. 

Stef looked at her phone as it pinged again. 

Jared had sent a very close up selfie. Laughing, she replied.

Stef: Good morning, Jared. How are you today?

Jared: Tired. Glad this con is almost over. Photo ops at 12, you gonna be around?

Stef: Yep, can swing by before we leave. 

Jared replied with a few celebratory emojis. 

‘Claire, come on, I’m hungry.’

‘Go down without me, I’ll be right behind you.’ Claire was brushing her teeth furiously.

Ok, Stef shrugged.

Filling her plate with as much food as possible, Stef was trying to figure out how to use the coffee machine when someone brushed past her, nudging her elbow, sending a piece of toast sliding off into the mug she had managed to fill with a watery mix of milk and coffee.

‘Sorry,’ a soft voice came. Stef turned to say it was cool when she met the woman’s eyes. 

‘It-it’s fine,’ Stef stammered, her eyes glued to the beautiful brown eyes staring up at her. It was Jared’s wife.

Fuck, Stef thought. 

‘You’re uhm, you’re…’ Gen tried to find a way to say her name without owning that this was the woman her husband was fucking. 

‘Yeah,’ was all Stef managed to say. 

‘Well, you’ve made him a happier man. When he comes home to us.’ Gen said graciously, putting a hand on the shoulder of a boy standing next to her, gaping up at Stef.

He had Jered’s eyes and my god, he had Jared’s hair. Stef swallowed hard, what could she say to that?

’Nice to meet you, anyway.’ 

Gen gave Stef a smile and taking her son by the hand, led him away. Stef closed her eyes, her mouth dry like a fucking desert. Suddenly, the coffee didn’t seem so important. But, there was a queue building up behind her.

‘Go ahead, I can’t seem to work it,’ Stef moved away from the person waiting patiently next to her. Rubbing her nose with her hand, she cleared her throat, not sure where to look or what to do. Fearful of moving her eyes across the room in case she were to see Jared’s family again or worse, Jared himself. She couldn’t face him now. 

Claire arrived, hair swinging, bosom bouncing, a huge grin on her face. ‘Hey did you get me coffee?’ 

Her smile turned to a horrified look, ‘you ok?’ Rubbing Stef’s shoulder. ‘You gonna puke?’

‘Maybe,’ Stef replied, ‘Can we grab a seat?’

Finding a small table hidden behind a huge, ugly plant, Stef told Claire what had just happened.

‘So she thanked you for sleeping with her husband? She’s a better woman than I would be.’

‘Claire!’ Stef pinched the bridge of her nose, the toast on her plate now finding its way to Claire’s mouth.

‘What?’ the redhead replied, ‘She could have ignored you, or punched you, or made a scene, but she didn’t. Sounds like she was just as shocked to bump into you.’

Stef nodded, her brow furrowed. ‘My life is not normal. This is getting awkward.’

‘This is probably the only time you will ever meet her or even see her, just chill.’

Stef blew out a breath, rubbing her sweaty hands against her jeans. 

‘I’m gonna get you a coffee and a chocolate croissant, then we can go see Richard. He will make you laugh and forget your troubles.’

Stef groaned.

‘Now that was my attitude when I first came to the con, you changed my mind. C’mon.’

‘Is it bad that I want a Margarita for breakfast?’

‘Yes, it is, this situation is not that bad.’

***

Claire hadn’t let Stef hide away in the room, which was a good thing. The convention was so big, the chances of her running into Gen again were slim, but Stef kept looking over her shoulder anyway. She regretted agreeing to see Jared at the photo op’s, but bit the bullet - well, asking Richard to scope out the room first and waiting for him to come back and confirm it was mostly Padalecki-free. 

Stef had never seen this section of a convention before, people lining up to take silly/well thought out pictures with Jared and Jensen. 

Jensen smiled and nodded when he saw Stef waiting off to the side. He leaned in to say something to Jared, who turned his head so quickly in her direction, his hair flipped into Jensen’s face, hitting his friend in the eye. The people close enough to see roared with laughter. Jared was falling over himself apologising to Jensen, clapping him on the back with his huge hand, winking over at Stef. 

‘I see why you like him,’ the familiar voice next to her made her smile. ’Tall, handsome, funny. I’d hit it.’

‘Oscar,’ Stef scolded softly. He was alone, standing with his hands in his pockets.

‘Where’s your date?’

Oscar made a dismissive sound, ’She bounced, I’m really good at making people feel unwanted, apparently. It’s a talent, it would seem.’

‘She left?’ Stef shook her head, laughing. 

‘Yes, she did. She said I wasn’t emotionally available.’ Leaning in so that only Stef would hear. ‘I’m kinda glad, she was jealous about everything.’

‘You’re not into chicks that are fawning over you?’ Stef bit her lower lip.

‘Nah, maybe I just didn’t like her.’

‘You heading home today?’ 

‘Yeah, you?’

‘You don’t sound excited.’ Stef was watching a couple set up their photo, within seconds their experience was over. A fleeting moment that would stay with them forever. 

Jared made eye contact with her and pulled one side of his mouth into a grin, looking over Oscar quickly and greeting the next in line. 

‘Want me to get out of your hair?’ Oscar murmured. 

‘No,’ Stef hooked her arm into his, changing the direction so she was walking away from Jared’s line of sight.

‘We haven’t had time to hang much at all.’

‘You want to hang with me?’ 

‘Yeah.’ Stef squeezed his arm. Oscar’s chest puffed out a little. 

‘What’ll we do then.’

‘I saw a stall with some stuff that had your Star Wars guy, Darius specifically requested something with your face on it.’

Pushing his tongue between his teeth, Oscar threw his head back to laugh. 

‘Why the fuck not, let’s buy my own merchandise.’

***

Jared: Where did you go? Photo ops just done.

Stef: Just grabbing a drink, you want one?

Jared: I’ll meet you in the bar, I’ll be about 5 minutes.

‘Is that him?’ Oscar eyed her over his drink, taking a long gulp and sighing. 

‘Yes, he’ll be down here in a few minutes.’ Stef put a hand on his arm. He had rolled up his shirt sleeves. One fist resting on his hip and he cocked an eyebrow, glancing around the room, he looked too hot. Stef had to check herself.

‘Why are you looking at me like that?’ He said, not looking at her, his eyes resting on a pair of blondes sitting at the opposite end of the bar.

‘Like what? I don’t want you to go if that’s what you mean.’ Stef pouted.

‘No, you’re looking at me like I’m lunch.’

Stef opened her mouth to laugh, involuntarily spitting her drink across his lap.

‘Oh shit, I’m so sorry.’

Oscar brushed the droplets away, laughing too much to form a coherent sentence. ‘I didn’t think it would have that effect.’

Wiping her chin with a napkin, she eyed him curiously.’ What kind of reaction did you think you would get?’

‘I dunno, I thought it might make you argue with me.’

‘You want an argument?’ 

’Nah, I just wanted to wind you up a little before your dude gets here.’

‘My dude, as you say, is already here.’ Stef raised her eyebrows in greeting as Jared made his way toward them. Oscar turned his head, not bothering to adjust how he was sitting, legs splayed open, knees on the outside of Stef’s, keeping her sitting in place at the bar. 

‘Hey,’ Jared said softly, tucking hair behind his ear. 

‘Hi,’ Stef grinned up at him. He was nervous, shifty. 

‘I guess I should formally introduce you both.’

They did that thing that men do when they don’t think women notice, they were eyeing each other, sizing each other up. Shaking hands and making pleasantries. Neither spoke, waiting for Stef to break the ice.

‘We will be leaving after lunch.’

‘Isn’t lunch, like, right now.’ Jared checked his watch.

‘Shit it is. Where the hell is Claire??’ Stef reached into her bag and checked her phone. No messages. Typical.

‘I cannot trust that woman around Richard, my god!’ Stef huffed, pressing the call button and listening to the tone on the other end, knowing Claire wouldn’t be picking up.

‘She could be back in the room.’

Oscar was half grinning, a knowing look on his face. ‘Better go check, you don’t wanna miss your flight again.’

‘Again?’ Jared was looking incredibly awkward now. 

‘Oh, Claire has made Effie miss a couple of flights over the years. She almost missed a video shoot her band was doing in Italy.’ 

‘Oh don’t remind me, that woman causes me stress I could do without.’ Giving up on the idea of Claire picking up her damn phone.

‘I gotta head back up to the room anyway, we will be leaving soon too.’ 

Jared put a hand gently on Stef’s elbow, hoping to get her up off her seat and away from Oscar. 

‘Yeah I’ll walk with you,’ turning to Oscar, placing a beer mat on top of her glass. ‘Mind my spot for a few minutes?’ 

Oscar nodded, turning his attention back to the blondes at the bar.

‘Nice to meet you, man.’ Jared offered Oscar his hand, the shorter man taking it, ‘You too, finally.’ Oscar winked at Stef as she walked away.

Stepping into the elevator, they were finally alone. Jared grabbed her waist, drawing her to him. ‘Damn, I’ve wanted to kiss you all fucking day.’ His teeth were nipping at her lips, teasing. Stef stood on her tip toes, trying to reach his mouth. ‘Kiss me then.’

Jared groaned when their lips met. It wasn’t long enough. The doors were opening on her floor. He took her hand in his, leading her down the hall. Stef was looking down at her small hand wrapped in his. ‘That ok?’ He squeezed her fingers.

‘Yeah, just surprising.’ 

Jared shrugged, stepping behind her as she slid the key card into the hotel room door. They were greeted with two naked bodies writhing on the bed. 

‘Oh god!’ Stef covered her face, unable to tear her eyes away from Richard’s naked ass bouncing as he pummelled into Claire.

Pulling the door closed with a bang, she covered her face, eyes wide. ‘How can I un see that?’ She gasped, laughing so much she thought she would puke.

Jared was on his knees, unable to speak. 

It took a few minutes for them to calm down, Richard’s frantic cries of ‘are you guys still out there?’ made the situation worse. Neither Stef nor Jared could answer him.

Jared had managed to drop his gum onto the carpet, causing him to laugh even more.

‘Don’t put that back in your mouth.’ 

‘That’s what she said.’

‘Oh Jared, please stop, I’m in pain from laughing.’

A large hand was on her back, her face was suddenly crushed into his chest. He was gasping for air like he had run a race. 

‘Well that’s put a good ending to a rough weekend.’ Jared was wiping tears from his eyes.

Stef remembered running into Gen earlier in the day, her stomach twisting with guilt. Or maybe it was jealousy. Or a sickening mixture of both.

Swallowing, she looked up at Jared.

‘What’s up, babe?’ 

‘Nothing.’ She lied, kissing him gently on the mouth.

‘You sure?’

‘Yeah, I’ll just miss you is all.’

‘You have good company downstairs, Oscar is keeping your seat for you at the bar.’

‘Jared…’ Stef wanted to explain what had happened earlier, but he cut her off with another kiss.

‘I’ll call you tomorrow, I’ll be back home. After the kids go to bed. Sound good?’

’Sounds good.’ Stef agreed, unable to hide the disappointment in her eyes at how this weekend had panned out. 

Richard opened the door, having dressed himself in a hurry. ‘Come on, man.’ he said to Jared, pushing past them, his cheeks flushed, hair tossed from Claire’s fingers. 

‘Gotta go.’ Jared kissed her quick and left, following Richard down the hall. 

Stef stuck her head in the door, ‘you decent?’

‘Doesn’t matter, you saw everything just now.’ Claire wasn’t half as bashful as Richard. 

‘Oscar is waiting for me at the bar. Meet us down there?’

‘Let me just fix my sex hair and I’ll be down.’

When Stef made it back down to the bar, she saw Oscar talking to a woman. She was hitting his arm and laughing. It was fake. Everything about her was. You can spot when someone wants someone because of their fame, and this was one of those vacuous women.

Stef put her arm between them to get her drink. ‘Oh hey, you’re back.’ Oscar looked happy at her reappearance. 

She was one of the blondes he had been ogling. His face said ‘please help.’ And while Stef would usually have left him to it, she decided on this occasion to do a good deed. 

’I’m Stef,’ she said, sticking her hand out for the stranger, who took it, gingerly.

‘Sorry, are you with him?’ She asked, pointing a talon at Oscar’s chest.

‘Yeah,’ Stef said simply.

The blonde looked her up and down, taking in the old Nike’s, loose jeans and band t-shirt. 

‘Call me,’ she mouthed to Oscar, swaying back toward her friend. 

‘Do not call her.’ Stef warned, sliding back onto the barstool, her legs fitting snuggly between Oscar’s again.

‘Just filling the time til you came back,’ Oscar sighed, leaning his torso toward her.

‘You look flushed, what’s up.’

‘I just caught Claire and Richard fucking.’ Stef looked at him, wide eyed and excited. 

Oscar put a hand over his mouth, his nose scrunched up as he laughed. ‘No fucking way.’

Stef finished off her beer in one gulp. ‘Buy me another one and I’ll describe Richard’s ass to you.’

‘Oh fuck, please don’t. But, I’ll definitely buy you another drink.’ Oscar winked, turning to grab the barman’s attention.

Butterflies. He had given her butterflies with that look.

Fuck, she thought

[navalcriminalimagines]

Comfort zone - 2

Author's note: the first part was well received and I'm really happy about it!! I don't really know how many there will be but I love writing this series and many more ideas keep growing in my head 😊 I write a lot about panic attacks and anxiety in this series, because it's been one of my problems for years now and I want to express myself about it! If anyone is going through this and wants to talk about it, DM me anytime!! I know how lonely we can feel! ♥️

Tag list (if you want to be tag, just let me know!): @madpanda75 @zombz78

Once again that night, you slept at Rafael's. He gently offered his bed but you felt bad about him sleeping on his couch once more so you told him you don't mind him sleeping next to you. But the two of you were uncomfortable in bed, both on your back, staring at the ceiling and no one dare to move. The only thing you could here was his breath. "Thank you for everything, Rafael," you whispered, in case he was sleeping. "We barely know each other but you are here for me while no one else is," tears field your eyes. The truth was hard to accept. You used to have friends when you were with Jeff. At least, you thought they were friends but none of them called or texted to ask how you were doing.

"You are someone I appreciate, y/n, and that's what friends are for," he answered.

"That's the thing! Are we friends? I mean, we were just co-workers before-"

"Like I said, you and your squad changed me. You opened my heart, while I worked so hard to close it years ago. So yeah, if you want me to be your friend, I happily am," you stayed silent for a moment. It felt good to know Rafael is your friend. And he already proved you could count on him, day or night.

"So my friend won't mind to hold me?" you shyly asked and you heard him chuckle.

"Come over here," he opened his arms, and you rested your head on his chest. He kissed your hair and put his hand on your shoulder, he didn't want to touch you lower, in case you would feel embarrassed. "Try to get some rest, y/n,"

When you opened your eyes, it was still dark outside. You could hear Rafael slightly snoring above your head. You stayed there for a while, considering what to do. Leaving? Staying? Trying to fall back to sleep? You hated when you asked yourself too many questions, instead of appreciate the moment. It was a good thing at work but it ruined your personal life. You managed to controlled it with Jeff but the complicated, lost, anxious and scared young lady was coming back very quickly. It's been a few weeks since you considered taking your meds again. But you remembered the struggle it was to stop taking them. Plus, it was totally incompatible with being a detective.

You finally decided to surprise and thank Rafael with a really nice breakfast. It's been a long time since you didn't have a typical french breakfast. You looked on your phone for the nearest french bakery. It actually was almost half an hour from Rafael's place but you didn't care since it was only 5am. You brought a baguette (french bread), croissants, pain au chocolat (basically croissants with chocolat in it), some raspberry jam and coffee. You got back to the apartment, hoping that Rafael was still asleep but you saw the light in his bedroom. "Y/n?" You heard his sleepy voice. You walked to the bedroom, where he was still under the covers, slowly waking up. "Morning Rafael," you smiled.

"Morning," he mumbled, "where were you?"

"You'll see, but until I say you can, you are forbidden to step outside this room," you smiled and he chuckled.

"You know that's my apartment,"

"Yea but you don't want to get the best detective you've known mad, do you?"

Rafael stayed in his bed until you allowed him to come out of it. A large smile crossed his face when he saw all the food on the table and the smell from it was just intoxicating. He didn't controlled himself when he came close to you, hug you and kissed your temple, "You're the best," he said. You are breakfast silently. It would have been much easier if you were in love with Rafael, or just still in love with Jeff but you hated yourself for only wanting Sonny.

Everything was okay until you prepared coffee to go for you and Rafael. The lack of sleep and thinking of Sonny made you split the brown liquid all over your shirt. "Damnnit! What a dumbass y/n," you yelled at yourself. Rafael rushed at you and saw the disaster in his kitchen. He wanted to help you clean but you refused. He went to his bedroom and came back to the kitchen with one of his shirt. A pale pink. You wanted to refuse but the look on his face didn't let you the choice.

It was big for you but you tucked it in your black jeans. "You look great, don't worry,"

You drove him at his office and went to work. Everyone noticed it wasn't your shirt but they all guessed it was Jeff's. Except for Sonny. He shadowed Rafael for long enough to recognize that shirt. He got it weeks ago that you were closer to the ADA and your partner didn't appreciate it. But who was he to tell you something? You still had your engagement ring. Were you having an affair? He couldn't believe it. You told him once how faithful was important to you, you truly believed in it. You couldn't have break one of your principles for the lawyer. But doubts drove him crazy since you entered the precinct. You look like you didn't have much sleep last night. And you were awfully quiet.

Bored and full of questions, Sonny decided to bother you. At first it was just making faces at you but it didn't work. Then he played with his pen and changed the ink. Sonny threatened to shoot you with the ink. He didn't mean to but when he pressed, the ink split at your chest. The shirt. "Are you fucking serious, Carisi?" You yelled and rushed to the ladies room. Amanda gave Sonny an accusing look and he decided to follow. He knocked but came in before you told him to enter. You were in just your bra, trying to wash the Rafael's shirt with soap and cold water. You turned to see who came in and Sonny just stood there, literally frozen in place as he stares your chest or maybe your "underboob" tattoo. "What do you think- about turning around, Carisi?" You said and he came back to reality. He did turn his back at you and you continued to wash the shirt. The blue ink's stain just kept getting bigger and it was making you madder at yourself and your partner. Sonny could hear you swearing at yourself, he took a little look over his shoulder to see you desperately attempting to clean it. "I'm sorry y/n, I'll take it to the dry cleaner," he apologized.

"It's not mine, Carisi. I have to give it back tonight," you almost cried. You were desperately crying over a little - and not so bad - thing. What was wrong with you?

"Ya, to Barba," he bitterly said. He knew it. You sarcastically laughed between your cries.

"Yes, that's his. And it probably costs more than my rent and yours, reunited,"

"Don't worry, he won't be mad at his precious detective,"

His back was still turn at you but you turned the water off and moved to look at your partner. "A problem, Dominick?" You asked, wiping your tears.

"You changed, y/n. You are really close to Barba and now you're wearing one of his shirts. Did you spend the night with him?" He had to ask. He needed to know. But you couldn't see the look on his face. You let the shirt in the sink and put your blazer on, just enough to cover your torso. You walked in front of Sonny to look at him in the eyes.

"What if?" You simply said. He didn't answer, just took your hand in his and showing off your ring.

"I can't believe you cheated on Jeff. That's not you. That's not my partner. Unless you aren't the person you used to be," you stayed silent for a moment, considering to tell the truth. But it was too easy, and he has a girlfriend anyway. What would be the point to tell him you're in love with him? That Rafael is the only one that knows? That all of your mental issues from the past were coming back? Why would you?

"You don't know me, Carisi."

You grabbed Rafael's shirt and left Sonny alone in the ladies room. You rushed to your locker and luckily one of your NYPD shirt you use to workout was there and clean. You put in on. In the squadroom, Sonny looked miserable but it's better this way, isn't it? He is with someone and seems happy with her, why would you ruin that? But why would he care if you were dating Rafael? You felt your chest compressing, and you started to suffocate. You left the precinct before anyone noticed your panic attack. You drove to the only place you would be able to calm down.

Carmen let you in but informed you that Barba was in a mood. You knocked and heard him, "Carmen, I said no interruptions," he didn't raise his head to see who it was. But the silence distracted him. He didn't see anyone at first until he heard you heavily breathing, sitting on the floor against one of his books shelf. He put his pen down and stood up. As he came closer to you, he noticed you were nervously scratching his shirt. Your eyes were fixing an invisible point. He quickly went to Carmen and asked her for a big glass of cold water. Rafael sat next to you and brought you against his chest. "I'm here, y/n. You're not alone," he whispered. He understood that's what you needed. Someone to lean on. Someone to be here for you. Someone to love you. Just someone.

"I'm sorry," you cried. Carmen came in with the water, she gently asked if you needed something else, but Rafael said it's okay. He watched you drink the full glass. After many panic attacks when you were younger, you realized drinking cold water was helping to go through it.

Rafael patiently waited next to you until you were finally calmed. "Wanna talk about it?" He asked, his arm still around your shoulders.

"I ruined your shirt, I'm sorry," you answered.

"Please, tell me you didn't panic because of it?"

"No, no. It's not- about that," you reassured him.

You decided to tell Rafael about your conversation with Sonny. For the ADA, it obviously was jealousy but you were not buying it. You stayed in his office for a while until Sonny called to tell you, you have a job to do. Outside of the courthouse, your partner was standing against your car, waiting for you. "You didn't have to come all over here, I said I was on my way,"

"You're lucky I didn't say Liv you were with your boyfriend when she asked where you were,"

His ton was driving you crazy. Is this jealousy?

"I didn't ask you to cover me, Sonny," he shook his head in disbelief. What was happening to his partner and best friend?

"Great, next time I won't,"

No matter what how tense it was between the two of you, Sonny still opened to door of the car for you, just like always. The ride to arrest a suspect was long and silent. Both of your phones buzzed. You concluded it was his girlfriend, and Sonny concluded it was Rafael. The rest of the day was heavy. You and Sonny barely talked to each other, you spent your time with Fin, while Sonny was with Amanda. By the end of the day, a decision was made. You entered into Liv's office before she left to see her boy.

"Liv, I want to change my partner,"