#my notifs have been an interesting place this afternoon

[orcinus-veterinarius]

Please remember that you’ll be hard pressed to find a pro-cap who thinks it was okay to capture healthy baby orcas to begin with. Like. Seriously. Guys.

[buckets-and-trees]

Mob Bucky respects your own financial independence, but he also made sure you have access to his black card and use it when you need it. He doesn't care what you spend the money on, especially since the notification he gets those very rare times that you use his money is to buy something most practical or for your shared apartment.

However, he does not expect to see a notification for the purchase of some sex toys 😏

CHOCOLATE

Collection: DEVOUR Characters/Pairings: Mob Boss!James Buchanan Barnes x Female!Chef!Reader Word Count: 5.6k Timeline: Takes place 1-2 weeks after mint, 2-3 weeks after heat.

Content & Warnings: EXPLICIT SMUT - vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal intercourse, creampie, food play, breeding kink. Feelings, so many feelings.

Author Notes: Surprise! At some points during the 2200 Followers Celebration poll, Devour Bucky and Chef were actually winning, so here's something I started months and months ago and brought out to finish for them. It's not quite everything from your ask, Eva, but I hope it's a satisfying scenario all the same...

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You had known the exact moment your fiancé – mob boss, venture capitalist, or philanthropist depending on who you asked and what they knew – got the notification of your purchase.

James Buchanan Barnes had given you a black card weeks ago, before the engagement, but you hadn’t used it until this week. Bucky had gone to Chicago for business (and you were sure he was there for business as well), and instead of staying home and pining away for him, you decided to treat yourself. The notification must have pinged his phone during a meeting, because exactly 47 minutes later, your own phone lit up with his name.

"What's this Cartier expense I see?" his voice a dangerous mix of amusement and curiosity.

You swallowed hard, fingering the velvet box in your lap. "Just a little shopping therapy while you're away. Nothing to worry about."

"Mmm," he hummed, unconvinced. "And here I thought I was the one who was supposed to shower you with gifts."

"Well," you said, "maybe I wanted to surprise you for once."

There was a pause, and you could almost see him leaning back in his chair, a predatory smile spreading across his face. "I suppose I am a little surprised you finally used the card. But how about a challenge?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Why don’t you see if you can shock me with a purchase?”

“Challenge accepted. What do I get?”

He chuckled. “You already know I’ll give you the world.”

Butterflies surged in your stomach. This man.

“You’re back Saturday afternoon?” you confirmed.

“Yes,” he growled. “There’s a round of golf I can’t seem to move or negotiate.”

You sighed softly. “It’s only three more days.”

“I like that you miss me.”

You huffed but couldn’t deny it.

“I’m missing you, too,” he said.

“James…” you breathed.

“Did you get the gift I sent?”

“I did.” A stunning, six-foot mirror with an ornate, gold-gilded frame had been delivered that morning to your apartment and placed in your bedroom.

“I was taken with how beautiful it was and you were my first thought.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “I love you,” you said.

“I love you, too. I have to go. We’ll talk later.”

When you woke up Friday morning, you knew exactly how to shock him with the black card.

Or at least tease him.

The high-end, ridiculously expensive lingerie boutique you never thought you would enter in your lifetime - Boudoir.

The response to that expense notification was immediate, and you smirked when you read the text that came through.

JAMES: You have my interest piqued.

You thought for a moment, then typed out a reply.

YOU: Thought maybe I’d see if I can shock you and send some photos of what I got later tonight.

Three dots appeared straight away, and then

JAMES: Forget photos, I’ll fly out tonight straight away after my meeting with Levinson and come straight to you.

Your breath caught in your throat, heart swelling with adoration, anticipation, and maybe just a touch of nerves. You looked up the latest flights out of Chicago, and couldn’t help feeling a little forlorn. Even though the restaurant head chef life meant late nights for work, it would still be an ungodly hour when he landed.

YOU: I’ll try to stay up, but promise to wake me up if I’m asleep?

Again, you didn't have to wait long for his reply.

JAMES: I promise. Nothing could keep me from you tonight.

A shiver ran down your spine at his words. You glanced at the clock - it was barely noon. The hours until his arrival stretched before you, filled with anticipation and nervous energy. You busied yourself with things before work, trying to focus on anything other than the ticking clock and the bag from Boudoir sitting in your closet.

At Devour your mind was engaged fully in your craft and working with your team.

But once you returned home after the Friday night dinner service, you found yourself pacing the apartment, unable to settle. Should you put on the lingerie now? Wait until you heard from him? You compromised by showering and doing your hair and makeup, then slipping into a silky robe.

Just as you were debating whether to pour yourself a glass of wine to calm your nerves, your phone pinged.

JAMES: Landed. On my way to you.

Far earlier than you expected him, but a good thing, too.

Your heart raced as you read his message. You quickly made your way to the bedroom, retrieving the Boudoir bag from the closet with trembling hands. The delicate lace and silk felt cool against your skin as you slipped into the lingerie, adjusting the straps and garters with care. You stood before the new mirror James had sent, admiring how the deep, rich color complemented your skin tone. The set hugged your curves in all the right places. Standing before the mirror James had gifted you, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of confidence.

A text alert broke your reverie.

JAMES: Five minutes.

You took a deep breath, smoothing your hands over the silky fabric once more before draping the robe back over your shoulders. You dimmed the lights in the bedroom and lit a few candles, creating a soft, inviting ambiance.

The sound of a key in the lock made your pulse quicken. You perched on the edge of the bed, listening as Bucky’s footsteps approached.

The bedroom door opened slowly, and he stepped inside, his eyes immediately locking onto yours. His gaze was intense, a mix of hunger and adoration that made your breath catch in your throat. Would you ever get used to the way he looked at you?

"Well," he said, his voice low and gravelly, "this is certainly a welcome home."

You stood, your fingers toying with the tie of your robe. "I thought you might appreciate a little preview of my shopping spree."

He set a golden box on your dresser and then moved closer, his steps deliberate and predatory. He reached out, running his fingers along the edge of your robe. "May I?"

You nodded, your heart racing as he slowly undid the tie and pushed the silky fabric off your shoulders. The robe pooled at your feet, leaving you standing before him in the exquisite lingerie.

Bucky inhaled sharply, his eyes roaming over every inch of you. "Beautiful.” His hands settled on your waist, pulling you flush against him. "Show me how much you missed me," he growled.

You leaned into him, tilting your head up to meet his intense gaze. "I thought you were going to show me how much you missed me," you teased, running your hands up his chest and over his shoulders.

He chuckled, a low, dangerous sound that sent shivers down your spine. "Oh, I intend to," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "But first, I want to savor this moment. You've outdone yourself."

His hands roamed over the delicate lace and silk, tracing the curves of your body with a reverence that made your breath hitch. You could feel the heat of his skin through his shirt, the barely contained power in his muscles as he held you close.

“I thought you wouldn’t be here until much, much later,” you said, breathing in the scent of him, cologne mingled with his natural musk. “The flights I saw had landings after midnight.”

He snorted. “My private jet provides service according to my schedule, not anyone else’s.”

“Oh,” was your soft and surprised reaction, realizing you should not be at all surprised to learn he owned a private jet.

"Turn around, love," he commanded softly. "Let me see all of you."

You complied, slowly spinning to face the mirror. He stood behind you, his eyes meeting yours in the reflection. His hands skimmed down your sides, fingertips tracing the lace edges of your lingerie. You shivered at his touch, watching as his expression darkened with desire.

"Do you see how stunning you are?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck. "How every curve, every line of your body is a work of art?"

You leaned back against his chest, feeling the solid warmth of him. "I see how you look at me," you whispered. "That's what makes me feel beautiful."

You watched in the mirror as his lips trailed up your neck, his stubble scratching deliciously against your skin. Your breath quickened as one of his hands splayed across your stomach, pulling you back against him.

He growled low in his throat, his arms tightening around you. "You still have no idea what you do to me," he said, his voice rough with need. His fingers traced the edge of the lace at your hip.

You turned in his arms, reaching up to cup his face. "Then show me," you challenged, your eyes locked on his.

Impossibly, his eyes darkened even more at your words, a predatory smile curving his lips. In one fluid motion, he lifted you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. His lips crashed against yours in a searing kiss as he carried you to the bed, laying you down with surprising gentleness.

"You want me to show you?" he growled, hovering over you. His fingers traced the delicate straps of your lingerie, sending shivers across your skin. "I'll show you exactly what you do to me."

He began a torturous exploration of your body, his lips and hands mapping every inch of you. The exquisite lingerie became both a barrier and a tantalizing tease as Bucky lavished attention on the exposed skin while skimming over the lace and silk. You arched into his touch, desperate for more.

"James," you breathed, your fingers threading through his hair. "Please…"

He chuckled against your skin, the vibration sending sparks of pleasure through you. "Patience, love. I've been dreaming of you all week."

His talented fingers deftly unclasped the delicate hooks of your bra, slowly peeling the lace away to reveal your skin beneath. You gasped as the cool air hit your heated flesh, arching into his touch as he palmed your breasts.

"Beautiful," he murmured, lowering his head to trail kisses along your collarbone. "So fucking beautiful."

You tugged at his shirt, suddenly desperate to feel his skin against yours. "Too many clothes," you panted, fumbling with the buttons.

Bucky chuckled, sitting back on his heels to shrug off his jacket and unbutton his shirt. Your eyes roamed hungrily over his sculpted torso as more of his skin was revealed. The dim candlelight cast shadows that accentuated every plane and angle of his muscular form.

"Like what you see?" he teased, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

"Always," you breathed, reaching up to run your hands over his chest and shoulders.

He caught your wrists gently, pinning them above your head as he leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

You melted into his kiss, your body arching up to meet his as he pressed you into the mattress. The weight of him, the heat of his skin against yours, was intoxicating. You tugged at his grip on your wrists, desperate to touch him, but he held firm.

"Ah ah," he murmured against your lips. "I'm not done admiring my gift yet."

His free hand skimmed down your side, fingers dancing along the edge of your panties. You whimpered, hips bucking involuntarily as he teased you.

"James, please," you gasped, breaking away from the kiss.

He chuckled, a dark, velvety sound that sent shivers down your spine. "So impatient," he tsked, nipping at your lower lip. "But I suppose I have kept you waiting all week, haven't I?"

In one fluid motion, he released your wrists and moved down your body. His lips and tongue traced a burning path along your skin, pausing to lavish attention on your breasts before continuing lower.

With deft movements, he removed the rest of your lingerie, his eyes dark with hunger as he drank in the sight of you. You reached for his belt, fumbling with the buckle in your eagerness. Bucky chuckled, gently moving your hands aside to finish undressing himself.

Finally skin to skin, you both sighed at the contact. Bucky's weight settled over you, comforting and electrifying all at once. His lips found yours again as he entered you slowly, savoring every inch. You gasped against his mouth, your body arching to take him deeper.

"God, I've missed you," Bucky growled, his forehead pressed against yours as he stilled for a moment.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him closer. "Show me," you breathed, nails raking down his back.

That was all the encouragement he needed. Bucky began to move, setting a rhythm that had you clinging to him, gasping his name. His lips found your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin there as his hips drove into yours.

You lost yourself in the sensations - the slide of his skin against yours, the delicious friction where your bodies joined, the heat of his breath on your neck. Your hands roamed his broad back, feeling the flex and ripple of his muscles as he moved above you.

"James," you moaned, feeling the familiar tension building low in your belly. "I'm close."

Bucky slowed his movements, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Not yet," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "I'm not done with you."

With a low growl, he suddenly withdrew, leaving you gasping at the loss. Before you could protest, his strong hands grasped your hips and flipped you onto your stomach.

His palms glided down your sides, fingertips tracing the curve of your spine. You shivered at his touch, anticipation building as he gently urged your hips upward.

"On your knees for me, beautiful," he commanded softly, his palms smoothing over the swell of your backside.

You complied eagerly, pushing yourself up onto all fours. The cool air of the room kissed your heated skin, making you hyper-aware of every sensation. Bucky's hands continued their journey, kneading the flesh of your thighs and hips with intent appreciation.

You felt the bed shift as he positioned himself behind you, the heat of his body radiating against your back. His fingers tangled in your hair, gently tugging your head back. His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke.

"You're a vision like this," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "So perfect for me."

You whimpered, pressing back against him, desperate for more contact. Bucky chuckled, the sound vibrating through your body. Slowly, torturously, he dragged the tip of his length along your folds, teasing your clit with the blunt head of his cock.

You gasped at the sensation, your fingers curling into the sheets. "James, please," you whimpered, pushing back against him.

He groaned, his grip on your hips tightening. "So eager for me," he murmured, positioning himself at your entrance. "Tell me what you want."

"You," you breathed, looking back over your shoulder to meet his intense gaze. "I want you, James. Please."

With a low growl, he pushed into you in one smooth thrust, filling you completely. You both moaned at the sensation, savoring the feeling of being joined once again. Bucky stilled for a moment, his forehead resting against your back as he struggled to maintain control.

"God, you feel amazing," he groaned, pressing a kiss between your shoulder blades. "So tight, so wet, so warm and perfect for me."

He began to move, setting a slow, deep rhythm that had you gasping with each thrust. Your fingers clutched at the sheets, desperate for something to anchor you as waves of pleasure washed over you. Bucky's hands roamed your body, caressing and squeezing, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

"Look,” he said, and turned your head to take in the sight of you two in the mirror.

You locked your eyes on his through the reflection. “Need you to see how gorgeous you are when you come apart for me.”

You keened for him as he pulled you back on his cock with a particularly demanding thrust.

“When I breed you.”

You gasped.

He groaned and curled his body down over your back.

Because you also clenched powerfully around his cock.

“Mmm, you like that,” he murmured right into your ear, then licked the shell of it. “Want to be bred,” he continued, pace unyielding as he split you open with his cock. “Not as much as I want to fill you up with my seed,” another thrust, “until you’re growing with my child,” another thrust, “no question who you belong to,” thrust, “that you’re claimed,” thrust, “that you’re mine.”

You were utterly breathless for a moment, and he registered that, too, just as he registers every movement, every reaction.

He continued to thrust slowly in and out of your leaking cunt, but he noticed you were no longer fluid and pliant, but that you had tensed up. He stopped. “What’s going on in your beautiful head?”

You bit your lip, and your head dropped down, turning away from his direct gaze in the mirror.

He pulled out and laid on his side next to you.

“Talk to me,” he said, and you weren’t sure if this tone was commanding or pleading, but it was certainly serious.

You sat up, folded your hands in your lap and took a deep breath. As steadily as you could, you said, “You knew my measurements and had sent a perfect wardrobe of intimates to me withing twenty-four hours of our first encounter.”

He nodded, his lips quirking up at the corner.

“So, I assume you also know I have an IUD, and that you that knew before you fucked me in the kitchen that first night at the restaurant.”

“Yes,” he confirmed.

“I’m nowhere near ready to think about children.”

He leaned up on one elbow and reached for your hands, smoothing his thumb back and forth over your knuckles. “We have as much time to think about that as you want.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Your eyes searched his. You could see he wasn’t merely trying to tell you what you wanted to hear - he never had.  

“I look forward to children with you one day, but I’m in no rush. When I imagined settling down with a wife,” he continued, “I didn’t think it would be for another five or six years, but once I found you, there was no question that I wanted you.”

"I want that future with you too, just... not quite yet."

Bucky sat up, cupping your face in his hands. His thumbs stroked your cheeks gently as he looked into your eyes. "I'm sorry if I scared you," he said, his voice low and sincere. "Sometimes I get carried away in the moment. You inspire that in me. But I never want you to feel uncomfortable or trapped.”

You felt a wave of relief wash over you, your body relaxing as you processed his words. "I'm sorry," you murmured, leaning into his touch. "I didn't mean to kill the mood."

Bucky shook his head, pulling you closer. "Don't apologize. Communication is important, especially about something like this." His fingers traced soothing patterns on your skin.

You nodded, feeling a surge of warmth and affection for this man who could be so commanding and intense one moment, and so tender and understanding the next. "I love you," you said softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

Bucky responded eagerly, his arms wrapping around you as he deepened the kiss. When you finally parted, both slightly breathless, he rested his forehead against yours. "I love you too," he murmured. "More than I ever thought possible."

His hands began to roam your body again, easily reigniting the need in both of your for each other.

You broke off the kiss briefly, "Just so we're clearly communicating, breeding kink? Yes. Children yet? No."

"Noted," he laughed, and returned to devouring your lips.

Bucky shifted his position from sitting to kneeling, settling back on his heels, then with one fluid motion he turned you and pulled you into his lap with your thighs falling on either side of his into a wide, kneeling position. He lifted your hips, then lined up his cock with your entrance, and brought you down again on his length. He guided your hips until you were impaled all the way down. The new angle sent sparks of pleasure through your body, drawing a low moan from your lips.

He banded his left arm around your torso, and his right hand smoothed up your sternum, between your breasts, coming to rest in a secure hold on your shoulder. You closed your eyes, focusing on nothing but the feel of him inside you, behind you, right at your back, every inch of your bodies pressed together. Your left hand traced over his forearm, then tangled with his fingers around your waist, your other hand moving back to anchor yourself on his hip. He pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your shoulder, then began thrusting. Each thrust seemed to push a deep moan out of you for him, and you didn’t hold back.

"Open your eyes," he commanded softly, his breath hot against your ear. "Look at us."

You obeyed, your gaze meeting his in the reflection of the mirror. The sight before you was breathtaking. Bucky sat tall and powerful behind you, his muscular thighs flexed as he supported your weight. Your body was on full display, skin flushed and glistening with a fine sheen of sweat. His thick arm across your stomach, holding you close against his chest.

"Do you see how beautiful you are?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck. "How perfectly you fit with me?"

You watched in the mirror as one of his hands slowly trailed up your body, cupping your breast and teasing the sensitive peak. Your back arched at his touch, pressing you further onto his cock.

Bucky groaned, his hips bucking upwards involuntarily. "That's it," he breathed, his voice rough with desire. "Feel me inside you."

Entranced by his words and the intoxicating view in the mirror, you began to move. You rolled your hips, grinding down onto him in a slow, sensual rhythm. Bucky's hands guided your movements, his fingers digging into your flesh as he helped you ride him.

You watched in fascination as your bodies moved together, mesmerized by the play of muscles beneath Bucky's skin and the way your own body responded to his touch. The sight of him disappearing inside you with each downward motion was almost too much to bear.

"James," you gasped, your head falling back onto his shoulder as the pleasure built. "Oh god, James..."

“No,” he growled, and his hand went up to your neck, taking you by the throat, not aggressive, but commanding, making it clear that he wanted you to keep looking in the mirror. “I won’t let you fucking miss this.”

It occurred to you then that this handsome, audacious bastard, the fiancé who you’d given your heart to, knew exactly what he wanted when he sent you this mirror and had it placed in the exact spot in front of you now.

He wanted this.

He wanted to see this and have you see this. The debauchery and the devotion while the two of you were intimate together.

Your eyes locked with his in the mirror, the intensity of his gaze pushing you even closer to the brink. You watched as his free hand slid down your body, fingers finding your clit with unerring accuracy. The dual stimulation of his cock inside you and his fingers on your most sensitive area becoming more frantic. Bucky's grip on your hips tightened, guiding you into a faster pace.

"That's it, love," he growled, his voice low and husky in your ear. "Let go for me. I want to see you come undone."

His words, combined with the intense sensations and the erotic sight in the mirror, and touch pushed you over the edge. You cried out, your body tensing and shaking as waves of pleasure washed over you. Bucky held you tightly against him, his hips still moving as he worked you through your orgasm.

"Beautiful," he murmured, pressing kisses along your shoulder and neck. "So fucking beautiful."

As the aftershocks subsided, Bucky gently turned you in his lap so you were facing him. His hands cupped your face, drawing you in for a deep, passionate kiss. You could feel him still hard inside you, and you rocked your hips, drawing a groan from his lips.

"Your turn," you whispered, nipping at his lower lip.

With a growl, Bucky flipped you onto your back, hovering over you with a predatory gleam in his eyes. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, changing the angle as he began to thrust into you with renewed vigor.

You gasped at the deeper penetration, your hands clutching at his back as he sunk into you. The room filled with the sounds of your moans, heavy breaths, and the slap of skin on skin.

You reached up, pulling him down for a passionate kiss while he worked up to a relentless pace. He drove into you with powerful thrusts, each one pushing the air from your lungs. Your other leg wrapped around his waist, urging him deeper as you felt another orgasm building.

"James," you panted, your nails raking down his back, "I'm so close again."

He growled, his hips snapping against yours with increased fervor. "My good girl, I’ll always give you what you need."

His hand snaked between your bodies, fingers finding your oversensitive clit. The added stimulation was almost too much, pushing you right to the edge. You cried out, your body arching off the bed as your second orgasm crashed over you.

Bucky's rhythm faltered as your walls clenched around him. With a deep groan, he buried himself to the hilt inside you, his body shuddering as he found his own release. You felt the warmth of his seed spilling inside you, prolonging your own pleasure.

For a moment, you both lay there, panting and trembling in the aftermath. Bucky's weight was comforting on top of you, grounding you as you floated in post-orgasmic bliss. He pressed soft kisses to your neck and shoulder, murmuring words of love and praise against your skin.

Eventually, he rolled to the side, pulling you with him so you were tucked against his chest. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close as your breathing slowly returned to normal. You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent and feeling utterly content.

"I love you," you murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his collarbone.

Bucky's hand stroked up and down your back, his touch soothing and gentle. "I love you too," he replied, his voice deep and warm. "More than I thought possible."

You hummed in agreement, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. The room was quiet save for the sound of your breathing and the faint flicker of the candles.

After a few moments, Bucky spoke again, his voice soft. "I meant what I said earlier. About children, about our future. We have all the time in the world."

You lifted your head to meet his gaze, seeing nothing but sincerity in his eyes. "I know," you said, leaning in to kiss him gently. "Thank you for understanding."

He smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Always. We're partners in this, in everything."

You lay in comfortable silence again for a while, basking in the afterglow and each other's presence. Bucky's fingers idly traced patterns on your skin, sending pleasant shivers down your spine.

"I missed this," you said softly, breaking the silence. "Having you here, holding me." Everything with him was still relatively so new, but it felt like this was exactly how it always should be.

He hummed in agreement, tightening his arms around you. "Me too. Those nights in Chicago felt endless without you."

You tilted your head up to look at him, a small smile playing on your lips. "Well, you're home now. And you brought me another present, didn’t you?”

“Oh, you noticed that golden box I brought in with me, did you?”

“Yes, can I have it, please?” you asked sweetly, your curiosity thrumming more with each second now that you had remembered it.

He chuckled at your eagerness, pressing a kiss to your forehead before reluctantly disentangling himself from your embrace. "Alright, love. Your wish is my command."

You watched appreciatively as he padded across the room, admiring the play of muscles beneath his skin. He retrieved the golden box from the dresser and returned to the bed, settling beside you with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Close your eyes," he instructed softly, and you complied, feeling a thrill of anticipation.

You heard the rustle of paper and the soft click of a box opening. A moment later, an intoxicating aroma filled the air - rich, complex, with notes of cocoa, vanilla, and something tantalizingly exotic.

"Open," Bucky murmured.

Parting your lips, you allowed him to place a morsel of chocolate in your mouth.

The chocolate melted slowly on your tongue, releasing layers of flavor that made you moan softly in delight. Rich, dark cocoa mingled with hints of caramel and a subtle spiciness that lingered pleasantly. As the last of it dissolved, you opened your eyes to find Bucky watching you intently, his gaze dark with renewed desire.

"Good?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

You nodded, licking your lips. "Incredible. What is it?"

He smiled, holding up an elegantly crafted golden box. "Amedei Porcelana. Some of the rarest and most expensive chocolate in the world. I had it flown in from Tuscany."

Your eyes widened. "James, that must have cost a fortune."

He shrugged, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "What's the point of having money if I can't spoil my beautiful fiancée?" His fingers traced along your jawline. "Besides, watching you enjoy it is worth every penny."

You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks at his words and the intensity of his gaze. Bucky leaned in, capturing your lips in a deep, sensual kiss. The lingering taste of chocolate on your tongue mingled with his unique flavor, creating an intoxicating blend. His hand cupped the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss.

When you finally parted, both slightly breathless, Bucky rested his forehead against yours. "I think I might enjoy that chocolate even more when I taste it on your lips," he murmured, his voice low and husky.

You smiled, reaching for the box. "Well, we have plenty more to sample. Maybe we should conduct a thorough taste test?"

Bucky's eyes darkened with desire, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "I like the way you think, chef."

He took the box from your hands, selecting another piece of chocolate. This time, instead of feeding it to you, he placed it between his teeth, raising an eyebrow in challenge. You leaned in, capturing the other half of the chocolate with your lips, your mouths meeting in a sweet, decadent kiss.

As the night wore on, you continued your playful exploration, alternating between savoring the exquisite chocolate and indulging in each other. Bucky trailed pieces along your skin, following the path with his lips and tongue. You reciprocated, drawing patterns on his sculpted chest and abs with melted chocolate before licking it clean.

The room filled with soft sighs, quiet laughter, and murmured words of affection as you rediscovered each other's bodies. The flickering candlelight cast a warm glow over your intertwined forms, creating an intimate cocoon that seemed to exist outside of time.

As dawn approached, you lay tangled together, satiated and drowsy. Bucky's fingers traced lazy patterns on your back as you rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

"I could get used to welcomes like this," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You hummed contentedly, nuzzling closer. "Maybe I should send you away more often if this is how you come back to me."

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Don't you dare. I much prefer having you by my side every day."

You smiled, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. "Me too," you admitted softly. "Though I have to say, absence does make the heart grow fonder."

"And apparently inspires some very creative shopping," he teased, his hand skimming down your side to rest on your hip.

You laughed, a warm, carefree sound that filled the room. "Well, I had to make sure you'd remember me while you were away."

"Impossible," Bucky murmured, his voice taking on a more serious tone. His fingers traced the curve of your cheek, his touch feather-light but ardent. "You're etched into every part of me now, love."

The intensity of his gaze made your breath catch in your throat. Even after hours of intimacy, he still had the power to make your heart race with just a look. You leaned in, capturing his lips in a tender kiss that spoke volumes of your shared feelings.

As you parted, you noticed the first rays of dawn peeking in through the curtains of your window. You settled your head against his shoulder, and only just registered the press of his lips in a kiss to your forehead before you dropped off to sleep in his arms in the morning light, thoroughly exhausted and thoroughly in love with this man.

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Some of this was content I cut from the final chapter of the original 4-parts of the series (heat) that once I got to the end of that chapter felt like it didn't fit anymore, but it was stuff I couldn't throw away, so I just kept it, knowing it would have a place at some point in their story later, so I'm glad I finally got to share it with you!

[theonottsbxtch]

THE OTHER GUY PT.2 | FC43

an: this one is dedicated to @iimplicitt teehee, i turned you into an oscar girl. this is my next mission xx

fc: random brunette's on pintrest

part one

ynpiastri

📍 spain

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, landonorris and 35,746 others

summahhhh ☀️☀️

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The late afternoon sun bathed the resort in a warm, golden hue, casting long shadows across the sprawling terrace. You stretched out on a lounge chair, your oversized sunglasses hiding the exhaustion that had followed you all the way from Baku. Spain had seemed like the perfect escape—far from the relentless media attention, from the pit lane politics, and most importantly, from him.

You sipped your iced tea, letting the coolness of the drink momentarily soothe your frustration. You’d spent weeks defending Logan online, battling fans who were celebrating his replacement, all while watching the media fawn over Franco —her newest enemy. He was charming, sure, with his flashy smile and ridiculous sense of humour, but you saw right through it. He was the reason Logan was out of a seat, and no amount of good press could change that.

"Vacation," you muttered to herself, scrolling through your phone with half-interest. "More like damage control." You caught sight of a headline featuring Franco, and instinctively, your blood boiled. Another interview where he effortlessly charmed the reporters, cracking jokes, talking about his "new chapter" with the team.

Your fingers itched to type something snarky, but you resisted. You were supposed to be here to forget about him, not let him take over your every waking thought.

The sound of waves crashing gently against the shore and the soft chatter of other resort guests faded into the background as you sunk deeper into the oversized cushion. A brief moment of peace, a break from everything that had been weighing you down since the start of the season.

Your phone buzzed again.  You swiped at the notification, but instead of seeing another message, you found herself back on his Instagram. There he was, shirtless on a yacht, sunglasses perched cockily on his nose, and that same aggravatingly perfect smile. You couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

Ugh, him again.

Tossing your phone aside, determined not to let him ruin the one place where you were supposed to be free from all the F1 drama. The warm breeze ruffled your hair, and you let out a deep sigh. Maybe the sunshine and a few more days of disconnecting would finally help you feel better.

You slipped your sunglasses further down over your eyes and leaned back in the chair, letting the sun soak into your skin. Just as you were beginning to drift off, the sound of distant laughter and voices pulled your attention toward the pool. A group of people, probably other guests, gathered around, laughing and chatting as they played a game of volleyball. You tried not to focus too much on them, but something felt oddly familiar about the scene.

Then you heard it—a voice that sent an immediate chill through your body, a voice that had been haunting you far too often lately.

"Come on, you can’t let me win that easily!"

Your eyes shot open, and there he was. Of all the places in Spain, of all the resorts you could’ve chosen, he had to be here, of course.

Franco Colapinto — Logan’s replacement —stood shirtless at the edge of the pool, a volleyball in hand, grinning like he didn’t have a care in the world. Your stomach twisted in irritation as you watched him toss the ball to one of the resort guests, laughing easily, his carefree attitude only making you hate him more.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

Quickly grabbing your phone, ready to escape to your room before he could notice you, you stood up trying to ignore the piercing headache you got for standing up too quickly. But before you could slip away, that familiar voice called out again.

“Well, fancy seeing you here. I knew you couldn’t stay away, hermosa.”

You froze. Heart sinking, and her fingers tensing around your phone. Of course, he'd spotted you. He always seemed to know exactly where you were, like he had some sixth sense for ruining your day.

Reluctantly, you turned around, eyes narrowing as they locked on him. He was leaning against the pool railing now, dripping wet from his earlier game, an insufferably smug grin on his face.

"You’ve got to be kidding me," you muttered, shaking your head. This trip was supposed to be about getting away from him, not running into him at every turn.

He casually pushed himself away from the railing, moving closer, still dripping as he walked towards you. "You look surprised. Didn’t think you’d be lucky enough to spend more time with me, did you?"

"Surprised? No. Horrified? Absolutely," you shot back, folding your arms across her chest, your usual defences kicking in.

He laughed, that low chuckle you found utterly irritating. "Relax. I’m not here to ruin your holiday. You just happen to be where the fun is."

"You call this fun?" you gestured vaguely to the pool and surrounding guests, "Seems pretty desperate if you ask me."

"Desperate? Me? No, I’d say it’s fate." He smiled. "Destiny brought us here together, Chiquitita."

"More like bad luck. What are you doing here?" you seethed, looking at him venomously.

"Same thing as you, I imagine. Bit of sun, a bit of relaxation..." Franco grinned. "Or maybe I came because I knew you’d be here, hermosa."

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the sudden warmth in your cheeks. "Right. Because stalking me across Spain is your idea of fun."

"Stalking’s a strong word. Besides, it’s not my fault you chose the same resort. Destiny, maybe?" He took a step closer, and you instantly regretted not fleeing the second you saw him.

You scowled. "This place is big enough. Stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours."

He chuckled, not taking the hint. "You’re funny. You know, I’ve seen your posts—those little digs at me. It’s almost cute how much you hate me. But hate’s just another kind of passion, isn’t it?"

Your stomach twisted. He was being playful, teasing, as usual. But underneath the banter, there was something more—something that made your skin tingle and your defences rise.

“I don’t have time for your little games,” you shot back, trying to sound as unaffected as possible. “You’re just a reminder of everything that’s gone wrong with Logan.”

His smile faded slightly, and for a brief moment, there was a flicker of sincerity in his eyes. "I’m not trying to be. Believe it or not, I didn’t want things to go down the way they did with Logan."

You paused, thrown by the unexpected change in tone. You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

“Look, just stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours.”

francolapinto

📍 valencia, spain

liked by williamsracing, alex_albon, olliebearman and 983,365 others

first slide is what i look like sliding right into a girl's life 🤪

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A few days later, you were starting to settle into the rhythm of the resort. Early morning swims, afternoons lounging by the pool with your book, and quiet evenings spent at the beachfront bar. It was exactly what you needed—peace, space, and time to forget about the fact that everywhere you were, he was too.

But of course, that was too much to ask.

It was late afternoon when you had found herself once again in the outdoor seating area, soaking up the sun, your book lying forgotten on your lap, eyes closed, letting the soft sound of waves crash in the distance.

“Don’t tell me I’m the reason you’ve been hiding out all week.”

Your eyes flew open to see him standing next to your table, casually leaning on the back of the empty chair across from you.

"For the last time, I’m not hiding," you said, exasperated.

"Right. Because reading that same page for the last hour doesn’t look like someone avoiding their surroundings," Franco teased, glancing at your book. Before you could protest, he sat down, uninvited.

"Are you really doing this? Here, again?" you glared at him, tempted to just pick up and leave.

“Relajarse (relax),” he said, waving over a waiter. “I just wanted to talk.”

“About what? About how great you are at ruining perfectly good days?”

“Ruining days? Or making them more interesting?” he grinned, ordering a drink in his perfect spanish. “I can’t help that you always look bored when I’m not around.”

“I’m bored because you won’t leave me alone.”

Franco laughed, but there was something softer in his eyes this time, a subtle shift in his demeanour. “Look, I get it. You think I don’t deserve the seat. You’re angry about what happened to Logan. But I’m not here to be your enemy, hermosa.”

Your jaw tightened. “It’s not just that. It’s everything. You come in, all smiles and charm, acting like none of it matters. Like everything that happened to him is just... a part of the game.”

“It’s not a game to me,” he said, and his voice was lower now, more serious. “I worked my whole life to get here, just like he did. I didn’t want to take anything from him. I had no choice in that decision.”

You looked away, biting the inside of your cheek. You hated how he could make you question yourself. Hated that the confidence he wore like armour could falter and reveal something deeper, something that made you doubt your automatic disdain.

"Why do you even care what I think?" you asked quietly, almost more to yourself than to him.

“Because you’re different,” he said simply. “And maybe... maybe I care about what you think more than I should.”

Your breath caught in your throat. There it was again—that unexpected softness breaking through his usual flirty, cocky exterior. You didn’t trust it. Didn’t trust him.

But still, a part of you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe—just maybe—there was more to him than you wanted to admit.

Clearing your throat, trying to regain your composure, you looked at your empty drink, ignoring the new one he’d ordered for you. “Well, I don’t care what you think.”

He smiled knowingly, leaning back in his chair as the waiter set down his drink. “I can change that.”

twitter

text from logan to yn

the end.

teehee 😚✌️

[spdrwdw]

Art by Shuploc

Pairing: knight! Miguel x princess!reader

Warnings: some fluff, some angst, no use of y/n

Summary: You were the princess of your kingdom, and Miguel was a knight. What first started off with innocent glances and little gifts turned into something more. However, with the roles you to play in society, your love for each other has an expiration.

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: I have been thinking about making this into a series or something based on this fic. Let me know if anyone is interested in that. Thank you to the anon who requested this! You guys have really been helping me write. I am still working on my other requests. Sorry if I have been slow in writing. It's that time of year when it's just so busy. If you would like to be tagged in any of my fics let me know. Or, you can simply turn on your notifications for my page and get notified whenever I post. Also, this hasn't been edited so apologies for any grammatical errors.

Check out my masterlist for more of my stuff

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At first, it was innocent glances. Peeking through lashes before looking away shyly, hiding behind your fan as to not meet his gaze. However, it proved to be a challenge when you had caught his interest. 

Soon enough, you started receiving little gifts. It never was addressed to whom it was from, but you knew they were from him. 

The gifts and stolen glances continued for weeks until one day, the knight decided to approach you. 

You never had him so close to you before, and while you knew he was rather tall, you didn’t know he was that tall! The way he towered over you sort of intimidated you, however, your uneasiness faltered when he gave you a gentle smile and bowed to you. 

You gave him a gentle smile back, however, not uttering a word to him. He didn’t mind, though. He still took the time to glance your way.

Encounters such as these became more common, and it had gotten to the point where Miguel would actually escort you to places. Wherever it was you wanted to go. You always asked for him, if he was available, and when he was, he would always say yes. 

He would always stay two paces behind you, even if he had to walk slower. While you didn’t talk to each other much, he would still greet you, calling you ‘princesa’. You didn’t know why, but you always felt butterflies in your stomach whenever you heard him speak. His voice was so smooth, like butter, a bit husky at times, but still a voice that you would love to listen to every single day. 

It would be a couple weeks later that you both began to hold conversation. It would be during one of your afternoon walks around the castle gardens. Miguel began the conversation, talking about the flowers as you both passed by them, and tell you how they reminded him of his late mother. You also learned that day that his younger brother was currently in training to become a full fledged knight. You could hear the pride in his voice. 

A couple months had then passed. Winter had arrived. And that was the first time he stole a kiss from you from behind a tree trunk.  While it wasn’t the first kiss you’ve had, it was the first time you felt sparks. The first time you felt something. Something igniting inside of you. You knew you weren’t going to be able to shake him off of you.

And, that wasn’t a good thing. 

Still, neither of you could help yourselves. You both had grown closer, shared secrets, told each other stories of one another. Miguel had not only become someone whom you snuck glances and kisses with, he had become your friend. 

And, you wish you could become something more. 

“There is something on your mind princesa. What is it that is troubling you?” Miguel asked as the two of you strolled through the kingdom. As always, he kept two paces behind you. 

You simply shook your head, shaking away the thoughts that plagued your mind. Glancing over at him, you gave Miguel a warm smile. 

“It’s nothing. Really,” you assured him. 

He could tell you were lying, however, he didn’t dare question you. 

As the seasons changed and time went by and the two of you continued to grow and change, so did your feelings for each other. 

No longer were they stolen kisses or innocent strolls through the kingdom, but, there were also more intimate moments as well. 

Whether at the horses’ stable, somewhere hidden in the gardens, or even in your private chambers, you two shared intimate moments.

Your relationship had to be kept secret, of course. Miguel was simply a knight- while a very high ranking one, his duty was to protect the kingdom and the crown. And you were the kingdom’s princess, and the one who will eventually be wearing the crown Miguel had sworn to protect. 

“I hear that your father will be hosting a ball within the coming months,” Miguel commented as the two of you laid naked in his bed, limbs tangled together. 

You simply let out a hum, not really wanting to think about it. Your father was hosting a ball in an attempt to get all of the eligible princes and the like to meet you. You knew the time would eventually come, in which you would have to look for a husband to marry. You were to become queen of your kingdom, and you were to have a crowned prince and bear heirs. 

However, you didn’t want to marry any one of those men who will be attending that ball. You wanted to be with Miguel. 

Miguel turned to look at you, his hand gently gripping your chin so you’d turn to meet his gaze. 

“There is something on your mind, princesa. I wish you would let me in.”

Letting out a sigh, you nodded your head. “Y-yes. Yes there is. I just. It’s about the ball. It’s my father’s attempt to find someone for me to marry.”

You glanced over at him, trying to read his expression. Miguel was good at hiding his feelings and keeping a stoic expression. He was a trained knight, after all. And one of the best. 

“Of course. It is time for you to start thinking about marriage. It is your duty as princess to not only become ruler to our kingdom, but to have a crowned prince at your side and have heirs.”

You frowned at his words. You knew that. But, you didn’t want to. 

“And..what will happen..to us?” You then questioned.

 You didn’t want to end what you had with Miguel. He had not only become a good friend, but an amazing lover.

 And, you had fallen in love with him. But, you didn’t know whether to tell him or not. Of course, it was best if you didn’t. It would only end up breaking you even more if you admitted your feelings to him. Besides, you were sure Miguel didn’t feel the same way, right? You were the princess. Any man would’ve been lucky to have gotten with you. At least, that’s what you assumed. 

You were not aware that Miguel had indeed developed feelings for you, and that he was determined to keep them hidden from you. There was no need for the unnecessary heartbreak. However, watching you leave him was going to be heartbreaking enough as it is. It was best for him to take this love that he had for you and take it to the grave with him. You would forget him in due time. Miguel would most likely perish in war, and you would live the rest of your days ruling a kingdom and raising your heirs alongside your husband. 

“I don’t know..”Miguel finally answered after a moment of silence clouded the room. 

“We would most likely simply go back to how things were before.”

“But, I don’t want that,” you stated, sitting up slightly, covering your bosom with his covers. 

“It isn’t about what you want, princesa. It’s about what your duty as princess and future queen holds. There was never meant to be anything between us. You and I must both be aware of that. We can keep whatever we have going on for only so long. After that…I will go back to being a mere presence that is ordered to protect you.”

You looked down at his hand that rested beside you, grabbing it. It was so much larger than yours. The skin was rough; a sign of wear from training and battle. It’s one of the things you loved about him. His battle scars decorated his body, and you don’t know why but, you loved feeling every curve of them. 

“At the end of the day..none of this would’ve worked out. You and I both know that. Princesa, look at me,” Miguel sat up now, taking both of you hands in his. 

“We can never work out. You and I are from different backgrounds. Different social classes. You are of royalty. And I am a simple commoner. Our worlds were never meant to clash.” 

“But, they did,” you whispered, looking up at him. You could feel a lump in your throat. You didn’t want to say goodbye to this. To Miguel. To your love for him. 

“We can’t just pretend nothing ever happened, Miguel. I know you may not…feel the same way about me as I feel about you, but, I can’t just let this go,” you swallowed. 

“You will forget about me, princesa. You will. Your mind will be filled with other things as well as your time and your bed,” he told you, giving your hands a gentle squeeze before lifting them to his lips and kissing between the knuckles. 

“I will always be dutifully loyal to you. I will never be far from your side. And-“ he paused for a moment, averting his gaze from you. 

“My heart will belong to you, princesa. Even after we both move on, it will belong to you. Our time together will be something I keep and cherish until my very last breath,” he whispered, looking back to you. 

You stared at him for a moment, feeling your eyes glossing over. You didn’t want to let him go. You couldn’t. 

“So will mine!” You then blurted out. 

“My heart. My love. My everything! Every bit of me will always belong to you.”

Miguel shook his head, “No, princesa. You need to move on. You can’t be clouded by things that will be of disservice to you. Do you understand me?”

You shook your head in return as you got out of the bed, out of his warmth. 

“How can you just tell me to forget about you? Do you think this was all just for fun?” 

You knew he was right. You were well aware that they could never be. No matter how much she wanted it. She had to move on. Heck, she should’ve never even accepted his advances in the first place. 

“Of course not!” 

“Then why do you think that I can forget you just like that? Miguel. You pursued me. You sent me gifts.”

“I know. And that was a grave mistake on my part. I was not thinking. I was young and naive, then. Had I actually given it thought…I would’ve never done it,” he frowned, shaking his head. 

“So, this was all a mistake to you?” You glared at him.

“Of course not. I cherish all the times we spent together. This wasn’t all just for fun. It wasn’t because I was simply bored or I wanted to because I felt the need to waste your time. What I felt for you..what I feel for you..is real. This-” he motioned to the both of you, “-this is real to me. My feelings for you are genuine. They are real. And that is why I must let you go, mi princesa. Because, if I keep this up for much longer I don’t know if I will be able to handle the heartache.” 

You couldn’t help but to let the tears that filled your eyes spill over. You have known this man for a couple of years now. You had shared secrets, told stories of one another, shared dreams and shared each other’s beds. 

Miguel whispered your name, reaching out to you, yet you moved away from him. He couldn’t help but to frown, feeling his heart sink at you rejecting him. 

“Perhaps you are right. We should end things now..right now that I am able,” your lower lip quivered. 

You loved this man. You were in love with him. Truly. Madly. It just wasn’t fair. 

“Perhaps you are correct,” Miguel simply whispered. 

So, this was it, then. This was the end of it all. Miguel was truly a wonderful experience. You had learned so much from him. He had grown to be someone who you could trust, and you will continue to trust until the very end. 

You began gathering your clothes and proceeded to get dressed, with Miguel doing the same. 

“Shall I escort you home?” Miguel offered. 

You simply shook your head before remembering the time of day it was. It would be unwise to not have an escort. 

“Actually..yes. Please,” you nodded, getting the last bit of clothing on before waiting for him. 

The walk back to the castle was quiet. Too quiet. It was rather eerie, and you did not like it at all. There was no hand holding, no flirty glances, nothing. Just the sound of your footsteps on the cobblestone path. 

You wanted to burst into tears. How could life be so cruel? Your life was meant to be like in the fairytales where you get to marry who you love and happily ever after! You were the princess in those stories. 

And yet, no one knew the truth. The children who listened to the stories. The adults who would tell it to their children. The cruel truth that fairytales weren’t real.

Once you reached the castle, Miguel’s steps went into a halt. This was where he would drop you off. It was too risky for him to enter inside with you at this time of night. 

You didn’t want to say goodbye. Who knew if you would ever see him again. Well, of course you would but, not in the same light. He would no longer be your Miguel. He would simply be a knight whose duty is to protect the crown. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he whispered to you, reaching over to grab your hand, however, stopping just as his fingers brushed yours. 

You weren’t sure whether to trust his words or not. But, when he took a step back and bowed to you, that’s when you knew. 

It was over. 

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tags: @migueloharastruelove , @camzzn

[flightlessangelwings]

Not Leaving You Again

Santiago Garcia x fem!reader x Frankie Morales Word count- 4.8k Dialogue prompt- “ are you okay? “ Action prompt- [ YANK ]: seeing the receiver is in immediate danger, the sender hastily grabs them and pulls them against them, out of harm’s way Warnings-s.mut (18+ only!), bi mmf threesome, lots of pining, childhood friends to lovers, feelings, protective Santi and Frankie, assault attempt but it’s interrupted, reader is a bartender and works in a bikini bar but no physical descriptions given, reader has the nickname “Chiquita” given to her by Santi, no use of y/n Notes- Written for my Year of Protectiveness (@yearofcreation2023​), and it was supposed to be posted in April so let's just ignore the fact that this one is late lol! This actually went through many changes before I settled on this version and I'm happy to have done something a little different! Also, if you’re wondering how I came up with the nickname Chiquita: I was eating a banana while brainstorming this and I thought that was a cute nickname lol! Enjoy! @flightlessangelwings-updates​ is my update blog so feel free to also follow that and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on when I post!

~

“Really Pope?” Frankie sounded exasperated, “A bikini bar?”

Santiago grinned mischievously, “Yes Fish, a fucking bikini bar,” he placed a hand on his best friend’s shoulder, “You’ve been moping about your breakup for too long, buddy.”

Frankie rolled his eyes, “I bet they all know you by name here, huh.”

“Actually,” Santiago let out a deep breath, “I’ve never been here before,” he couldn’t help but laugh at Frankie’s shocked face, “I was looking up places to take you to cheer you up and this place came up.”

“It’s a wonder you never heard about it before,” he let out a heavy sigh of his own, “But I appreciate this.”

“Hey… What are friends for, huh!” he playfully punched Frankie’s arm, “Now let’s get a smile on that face of yours.”

“Whatever you say, Pope.” Frankie sounded slightly annoyed, but truly he was grateful for his friend. It had been several months since his fiance left him, and he knew he had been down in the dumps about it, bringing the guys down with him. And while Santigao Garcia had a tendency of being an asshole at times, he was still his best friend and he knew he had his best interest in mind. So, Frankie indulged him. 

But, when the two men entered the bar, both their breaths were taken away.

The bar was reasonably packed for the late afternoon, and every single woman who worked there was stunningly beautiful. Women in all ages, skin tones, sizes and backgrounds worked behind the bar making drinks and running to the tables to serve them. Santiago and Frankie stood in stunned silence for a moment before Santi nudged his friend.

“What did I tell you, Fish,” he sounded very pleased with himself, “Good drinks, beautiful bartenders… It’s just what you need.”

“They’re not pieces of meat, Pope,” Frankie huffed, “They’re just here to work.”

“Yes I know,” Santiago cleared his throat, “But it’s a bikini bar for a reason,” he nodded a quick hello to a waitress who sauntered by and gave him a wink, “Let’s just enjoy it.”

With another roll of his eyes, Frankie followed his friend to the bar where he ordered them both drinks. He watched as Santiago suavely flirted with the bartender, and was surprised that he actually flirted back. But then again, Santiago always had that effortless charm that made anyone swoon. Even Frankie himself found himself captivated by his friend’s hypnotic gaze at times.

“Cheers, Fish,” Santiago’s voice jolted Frankie from his thoughts, “To single life. May you find the perfect person for you.”

“Thanks,” Frankie mumbled as he cheered and took a sip. He had to admit, Santiago had a kindness and caring side to him that he kept buried under the facade. And although this wouldn’t have been his first choice of venue, he was grateful that Santiago dragged him out of his place. But, just as he was about to voice his thoughts, another voice cut in between the two of them.

“Santi?”

Stunned, the two men turned over their shoulder and were met by another captivating employee, dressed in only a bikini top and jean shorts. Santiago nearly spit out his drink as he breathed your name in a surprised tone.

“Santiago Garcia! I would know that voice anywhere!” you put down your tray to open your arms for a hug.

He exclaimed your name as he hopped off the barstool and embraced you tightly, “Dios mio it’s been… years!” he sighed as he leaned back to take in the sight of you, “You look even more beautiful than the last time I saw you.”

Frankie watched with a soft smile as two old friends reunited.

“It’s been too long,” you agreed as you looked him up and down, “I’ve missed you, Santi,” suddenly, you sounded sad.

Santiago cleared his throat and redirected your thoughts, “This is my good friend Francisco,” he gestured to Frankie, “Fish, this is Chiquita.”

“Pleasure. Call me Frankie,” he spoke softly as he took your hand in his. Frankie couldn’t help but notice how soft your hand was and how your face lit up when you smiled.

“Nice to meet you, Frankie,” you gave him your name once more before you turned back to Santiago, “Chiquita, huh?” you asked with a laugh, “No one’s called me that in… I can’t remember how long. How have you been?”

Frankie couldn’t help but notice the flash of melancholy in your eyes when you turned back to Santiago. He listened as the two of you caught up for a minute before someone from across the way called your name.

“I’ll be right there,” you replied over your shoulder before you turned back to them, “It was nice to see you, Santi,” you breathed, “And very nice to meet you, Frankie,” you paused for a beat, “Come back again sometime. Tuesdays are usually slower… We can catch up more.”

Santiago and Frankie exchanged a glance and a smirk. “I guess this will be our Tuesday spot then,” Santiago exclaimed, “See you then, Chiquita.”

Your smile lit up your face once more, “I’ll see you then!” you said before you disappeared into the crowd and went back to work. 

*

Tuesday came before they knew it, and just like you promised, the bar was much quieter. The waitresses all greeted Santiago and Frankie when they walked in and they almost clamored to get the chance to wait on them. Among them was even the one that Santi flirted with the last time they were in, but this time, he only had eyes for one person.

“Hey guys!” you waved from behind the bar, “Take a seat. I’ll make you my specialty. On the house!”

“Thank you, “Frankie murmured as he watched you work. When you set the drinks down, he asked the first of many burning questions on his mind, “So… What’s the story behind ‘Chiquita’ anyway?”

Santiago nearly spit out his drink in an attempt to contain his laughter, and you couldn’t help but snort as well.

“When we were kids,” he started before you could recover from your laughing spell to speak, “She dressed up as the Chiquita banana girl three years in a row. I started calling her that as a joke but it just kinda stuck.”

“Oh I would have loved to see that,” Frankie joined in your laughter.

“Actually,” you cleared your throat, “Funny story… I actually did a bikini version of that for Halloween last year!”

“You’re joking!”

“Nope,” you winked, “Too bad you missed it.”

“Damn,” Santiago cursed under his breath. 

Frankie’s disappointment mirrored his friends, but he hid it better. Instead, he redirected the conversation as you wiped down the bar, “So you two have known each other for a while then?”

“Yep,” you replied, “We were friends as kids… grew up together… I hadn’t heard from you in years though…” your tone turned sad again, and suddenly Frankie regretted asking. He hated seeing you like that, even if he barely knew you. 

“Hey,” Frankie tried to redirect your thoughts, “We’re all here now, so why don’t we enjoy the drinks and the company?” He lifted his drink to cheers.

“Yeah!” Santiago lifted his drink as well, “To good friends and good drinks!”

“I’ll cheers to that,” you poured yourself a water and joined them, “To good friends, old and new!” 

The three of you clinked your glasses together before downing them all. With that a new friendship was born and you couldn’t help the feelings that bubbled to the surface… for both men. 

*

Before they knew it, going to the bikini bar became a regular thing for Frankie and Santi. They were in there multiple nights a week, to the point where everyone there knew them by name. Frankie even joked that he knew that would happen eventually, which Santiago shrugged off. But, neither man could deny the growing feelings for you they both harbored, and both of them knew about the other. It went unspoken, however, and neither of them made a move on you. Instead, they just enjoyed your company and watched over you on busy nights to make sure no drunk men tried to put his hands on you.

But, there was one burning question on Frankie’s mind. And after several weeks, he couldn’t keep it to himself any longer: “What happened between you and Chiquita?”

The momentarily joy at Frankie using that nickname for you as well didn’t last, and Santiago’s face dropped, “We drifted apart,” he answered dryly as he took a sip of his drink, “It happens when people grow up.”

Frankie’s face soured, “That’s not it,” he sounded annoyed, “I see the way she looks at you sometimes. Don’t tell me you hurt her…”

“No!” Santiago snapped, “No,” he repeated in a softer tone, “It’s just…” he sighed, “Shit happens, you know? Especially with guys like us.”

Frankie’s gaze stayed pointed at Santiago, but he chose not to push it any further. Instead, he looked around the bar and caught your eye. His heart fluttered in his chest when you looked up from what you were doing and gave him a big smile. Fuck, he was down bad for you, and he couldn’t do anything about it because he didn’t want to hurt his best friend or come between you two. So, Frankie chose to keep his heart guarded and locked away. If this was the most he was going to be with you, a friend and someone to watch over, Frankie made his peace with it.

But, Santiago broke the silence between them with an unexpected confession, “We hooked up once after I got back from my first deployment,” he stated plainly, as if he fought to keep his own emotions in check, “After that, I decided it was best that she never saw me again. I’m not the kind of man that’s good for her. She deserves better than me and my shit. So,” he sighed, “I left and never called her again.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Pope,” Frankie couldn’t hide the disappointment in his voice, “You really are a fucking asshole sometimes, you know that.”

“Yes, I fucking know!” Santiago snapped.

“So what stopped you?” Frankie sighed, “Normally you aren’t the ‘noble’ type.”

Santiago knew it wasn’t an insult. It was the truth. He rubbed his face in his hands, “Yeah,” he breathed, “I don’t know man. She’s just… Different.” 

“Yeah…” Frankie’s voice sounded distant as he looked over at you again, “She’s something else…” 

“You like her, don’t you?” Santiago asked, noticing the way Frankie looked at you.

“I… Uhh…” he stammered.

“It’s ok, man,” Santiago took a sip of his beer, “You’re a better man than I am. You’d take better care of her than I did.”

Frankie let out a heavy breath, “Thanks man,” he mumbled, “But I wouldn’t do that to you either. I see the way she looks at you.”

Neither man spoke for several long and tense moments. They sat in stillness as the bar hustled around them. For the first time in a long time, neither of them knew what to say to the other. 

“Listen,” Santiago broke the silence, “Why don’t we let her decide? No hard feelings,” he sounded defeated already, which was very unlike him.

Frankie didn’t like it, but he decided to just let the topic go for now and agree, “Alright.”

“Hey,” your voice broke through their tension, “You boys alright?”

“Fine, Chiquita,” Santiago reached out for you, “Just talking.”

“It looked serious,” you glanced between them, “You sure everything’s ok?”

Frankie gave you a soft smile, “Everything’s fine.”

*

Neither Frankie nor Santiago spoke about that conversation again after that night. They carried on like it didn’t even happen, and surprisingly, they both were able to just spend time with you just like they did before. Their routine felt comfortable enough that it didn’t affect them, and neither man held a grudge about it. Besides, they both agreed that watching over you was more important than their childish squabble. Especially on nights like tonight.

It was crowded for a Monday night, and you barely had time to chat with your boys. If you were honest, you were almost disappointed, since you looked forward to the nights that Frankie and Santiago came in. True, it was hard for you at first to see Santi again after he ghosted you all those years ago, but when you realized that he’d grown since then and you liked the man he grew into, you forgave him. And his friend Frankie was beyond handsome and kind too.

There were nights you fantasized about Santiago. And then there were nights you fantasized about Frankie. But your favorite daydreams were when you had both men at the same time. You found yourself equally attracted to both of them, and you felt safe when you knew they were there, watching over you and chased drunk men away who threatened to get too touchy with you. 

And you were especially grateful they were at the bar tonight.

Rowdy crowds of men spilled into the bar unexpectedly, and some of them made you and your coworkers nervous. You made your way over to the hightop table where Frankie and Santiago sat as often as you could.

“Busy night, Chiquita?” Santiago asked.

“It’s weird for a Monday,” you commented as you glanced between the two of them, “You guys doing alright?”

“We’re fine, sweetheart,” Frankie’s voice was velvety soft and it brought comfort to you. 

Just as you were about to say something, one of the other waitresses yelped as he dropped a tray of drinks right in front of another table. “Shit,” you hissed before you turned to the guys, “Be right back. I’l going to go help her.”

They both nodded as they watched you hurry over to the new girl. She had just started two weeks ago, and she seemed very nervous. But, you were there to help her and you quickly rushed to her side and calmed her down, “Hey,” you breathed, “It’s ok. It’s just a spill. It happens.”

“Thank you,” she breathed your name as he looked at you with big pleading eyes.

From the far table, Frankie and Santiago watched as you bent over to help the other girl. And while they were captivated at the sight of you bent over while hardly wearing anything, a grumble from nearby caught their attention. One of the drunk men at the table next to where you were stumbled over with a sinister grin on his face and his hands reaching out.

Without a word, Santiago and Frankie looked at each other and knew exactly what the other was thinking. 

In a flash, they rushed over to you, intercepting the drunk man before he could put his hands on you. The two men worked together in tandem; Frankie grabbed you and yanked you against him, wrapping his arms around you while Santiago pushed the drunk man away from you and the other waitress.

“Back off, asshole!” Santiago shouted at him.

You gasped as suddenly you found yourself in Frankie’s arms and Santiago’s body stood in front of you, blocking you from the threat you didn’t even know was there.

“Frankie?”

“It’s ok, baby,” he whispered to you, “We’ve got you.”

You let out a deep breath as you and Frankie watched Santiago push the drunk man once more, “Get the fuck out!”

“Hey,” the drunk man slurred, “I didn’t mean no harm… I just,” he hiccuped, “Wanted a little squeeze.” His glazed over eyes landed on you.

A shiver ran up your spine at the way he looked at you.

“Not on my watch,” Santiago growled before he punched the guy right in the face, knocking him down to the ground.

“Don’t look,” Frankie turned you around so that his body blocked your view and you were turned away from Santiago and the drunk man.

All you could hear was a scuffle and shouting as others joined in and pushed the drunk man out of the bar. All the while, Frankie whispered soft nothing to you to keep you calm. And you heard him repeat over and over again, “You’re ok, baby. We ain’t gonna let anything happen to you.”

The commotion calmed down as quickly as it started and suddenly Santiago was in front of you, “Chiquita!” he huffed as you looked up at him from Frankie’s grasp, “Are you ok?”

You looked between Santiago and Frankie, stunned at the way he rushed to your aid so fast, “I’m fine,” you breathed, “Thank you… Thank you both.” 

Time was a blur for you after that, and all you were aware of was that neither Sntiago nor Frankie left your side for a moment. And one of them had his hand on you at all times, as if they were both afraid that something else would happen if they strayed too far. Vaguely, you heard them speaking with your coworkers to make sure the other girls were alright before they relayed what happened to your boss.

“Baby?” Frankie’s voice broke you out of your thoughts.

“Yeah?” you blinked your eyes as if you had to refocus on the present moment.

“We’re gonna take you home, alright?”

“B-but…” you stammered, unsure of if that was what you really wanted.

“Don’t worry, Chiquita,” Santi appeared on the other side of you, the two of them forming a protective barrier around you, “I talked to your boss, everything’s cool. Let us take care of you.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as your hands trembled for an entirely different reason, “Ok…”

The ride home was quiet save for your directions. Frankie took his truck while Santi followed behind in your car so you wouldn’t have to worry about it later. A hundred thoughts ran through your mind as you noticed that Frankie glanced over at you as much as he could.

“Watch the road, Fish,” you teased to break the tension inside the car.

He let out a short laugh, “Yes ma’am.”

Thankfully, the drive wasn’t too much longer and Frankie and Santi pulled into your place and escorted you inside. It felt a little strange, as if they were your bodyguards, but at the same time you had never felt safer.

“Well,” you breathed as you gestured around, “This is it. This is my place.”

“It’s nice,” Frankie mumbled, trying to keep his expression level. 

You stood in front of Frankie and Santiago as you fiddled your fingers. “Thank you,” you broke the silence, “By the way… Thanks for lookin’ after me back at the bar.”

Frankie’s eyes softened, “You don’t have to thank us for that, baby.”

The way Frankie called you that pet name made your heart flutter in your chest. You always liked it when he called you that, and the way he said it always made your skin tingle. You glanced between him and Santi as the fantasies you had popped into your head. Santiago hadn’t said much since you got into your place, and all he did was nod at you. Something was up with him, you just weren’t sure what, but you still felt the tension radiate off of him. 

As he watched your face, Santiago couldn’t stand the tension anymore and he broke the silence with a loud voice, “Ok, I’m just going to say it,” his emotions fueled his sudden outburst, “Listen,” he used your real name for once, “I know this isn’t fair of me to ask, but it’s driving me fucking crazy. And,” he let out a heavy sigh, “I just have to know… Which one of us would you choose?”

You blinked your eyes wide as your mouth dropped open, “W-what?”

“Santiago…” Frankie hissed.

“Chiquita, you gotta know we both are fucking crazy about you,” Santiago continued, ignoring his friend, “And I know I hurt you, baby. But I just gotta know so we can move on.”

You were silent as you looked between the two men. Your heart felt like it would burst from your chest at any minute as they both looked back at you like lost puppies. Slowly, you reached out and took Frankie’s hand in yours without a word.

Santiago spat, “Thought so,” he mumbled before he stepped past you to leave.

“Wait,” you grabbed his hand with your free one and held onto both of them tightly, “I…”

“What is it?” Frankie asked in a whisper as Santi looked back at the two of you with a surprised expression on his face.

“Do I have to pick between you two?” your voice shook, “Can…” you swallowed hard, “Can’t I have you both?”

Frankie and Stai’s eyes went wide as their gazes met. Frankie himself couldn’t deny the latent attraction he had for his friend. And Santiago’s eyes went up and down Frankie’s figure as a slight smirk lit up his face.

“I wouldn’t say no to that,” Santi quipped as he stepped closer towards the two of you. 

“Neither would I,” Frankie grinned back as he wrapped his arms around both you and Santi.

Your face lit up as you looked between the two men, “Are we really doing this?” you asked in an excited whisper. 

Santiago cupped your chin and kissed you deeply, “It looks like we fuckin’ are,” he murured before Frankie grabbed your chin and turned you toward him to give you an equally passionate kiss.

Left breathless, you just nodded towards your bedroom and the two men quickly led you down the hallway, stripping you and each other on the way. Even after the tense moments at the bar, everything melted away as the three of you shed your layers of clothing, and giggles erupted among the three of you as you made your way to your bed.

“Fuck…” Frankie breathed as he took in the sight of you and Santiago before him.

“Just as beautiful as I remember, Chiquita,” Santiago murmured as he glanced over at Frankie, “And shit man, you’re an impressive sight too,” he winked.

You couldn’t help the laugh you let out before Frankie said your name.

“How do you want us, baby?’

“Yeah, your call.”

It took no time to decide how you wanted them. Leaning over to Frankie, you gave him a light kiss, “I want you to fuck me,” you breathed before you leaned over to Santi and mirrored the kiss, “And I want you in my mouth.”

“Have you thought about this before?” Santi smirked.

“That’s my little secret,” you winked.

Both boys let out a short laugh before they got serious again. They caressed your body, memorizing every dip and curve of you as they positioned you between them. Your back stayed to Frankie as his hands reached your ass and gave it a firm squeeze. Both of them groaned when you let out a beautiful moan, and suddenly the desperation took over for all of you.

You held onto Santiago’s shoulders as you positioned yourself, parting your legs for Frankie. Immediately, he cupped your pussy and traced a finger along your clit. Your body trembled as you moaned even louder while you grabbed onto Santi’s cock and slowly pumped it.

“Shit…” Santi hissed as you wrapped your fingers around him and stroked him slowly as if you remembered every little move that drove him wild.

While you jerked off Santi, Frankie pushed two fingers inside you while he stroked himself. A string of curses from all of you echoed in the room as Frankie’s thick fingers pumped in and out of you in the same rhythm that you pumped Santi.

“Frankie,” you murmured, “I’m ready… Please fuck me.”

“Whatever you want, baby,” Frankie caressed your ass as he slowly pulled his fingers out of you and lined up his cock at your entrance.

You and Santi shared a look before you felt the tip of Frankie’s cock push past your entrance. Your mouth dropped open and you let out the most tantalizing moan either man had ever heard.

“Fuck,” Santi cursed as he watched you lower yourself onto your hands and knees.

As Frankie slowly pushed into you, you took Santi’s cock in your mouth, flicking the tip with your tongue a few times before you wrapped your lips around it and took him completely inside.

“Ay Dios…” Santi groaned as he felt your warmness around him.

“Fuck,” Frankie moaned as he buried himself completely inside you, “Fuck baby you feel so good.”

All you could do was moan around Santi’s cock as you felt yourself stuffed at both ends. Your mind swam in pleasure as Frankie reeled back and thrust forward again, and already you saw stars. Santi kept his hands on your shoulders to support you as Frankie held you hips and pounded into you faster. Unable to hold himself back, he rocked into you over and over again, already addicted to the feeling of your wet pussy around him.

Santiago looked up from where you gagged on his cock to meet Frankie’s eyes, and he felt a fresh wave of need pulse through him when he saw the look on his face. A shiver ran up his spine as Santi watched Frankie fuck you. Between the way his cock disappeared inside you over and over again paired with the carnal look on his face, Santi felt his climax build quickly.

“Fuck,” Santi growled as he grabbed your head and yanked you off his cock.

You let out a loud cry as drool dripped down your lips, “Santi? What?”

“I want to hear you, Chiquita,” Santi growled before he kissed you deeply, “Let us hear how beautiful you sound while Frankie fucks that pretty pussy of yours.”

“Oh fuck!” you screamed as the new angle drove Frankie’s cock deeper inside you, hitting your sweet spot with precision.

Santi’s arms wrapped around you and held you tightly, and you felt Frankie’s grip around both of you as well. Your wind swam in pleasure as Frankie pounded into you faster and all you could do was rest your head on Santi’s shoulder as he held you.

As you felt your own climax build, you grabbed Santi’s cock and pumped it in time with Frankie’s thrusts. You heard him hiss your name as both men growled and groaned on either side of you.

“Fuck… Frankie… I’m gonna cum…”

All Frankie could do was moan your name, his own climax right behind yours. He tightened his grip on your hips as he pounded into you with fervor until you let out a louder scream as you fell apart. Your body trembled in their arms as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you as you came on Frankie’s cock.

Your orgasm triggered Frankie’s and he looked into Santi’s eyes for a moment before he too let out a loud groan and came deep inside you.

Santi felt awe-stuck as he watched both of you hit your peeks. You both looked so beautiful, so sexy, that he almost forgot about his own pleasure for a moment. But, when Frankie’s hand covered your on his cock, Santi let out a gasp as the two of you pumped him together until he too came hard, spilling himself on your body.

Exhausted and spent, the three of you all collapsed down onto your bed, Frankie slipping out of you as you did so. For several moments, you, Frankie and Santi all just laid together in a tangle of limbs as you all caught your breaths. Your arms and legs laid out over your boys, and even as your heart pounded in your chest, you could also feel the same in both of them. 

“That…” you broke the comfortable silence with a heavy breath, “What fucking amazing.”

Santi laughed, “Fuck yeah it was.”

“Perfect,” Frankie sighed as he shifted to make you all more comfortable. He gathered you in his arms and pulled you to lay on his chest before he reached out and grabbed Santi’s arm.

Santiago looked at him, confused as to what to do for a moment, before he settled down and let you rest in between them. His eyes trailed across your bodies as he couldn’t help but wonder how different things would have been had he not left the last time he slept with you. Would the two of you become a couple? Would you eventually have invited Frankie into your bed? Your relationship?

But more importantly, would Santi repeat his actions again?

“Hey Santi?” your voice broke him out of his thoughts as you looked over your shoulder, “You’re not gonna leave again? Are you?”

Santi’s eyes went wide as he glanced between you and Frankie, who gave him a stern look. After a beat, he softened, “No, baby,” he caressed your face and kissed you before he looked at Frankie, “I’m not leaving either of you,” his voice was soft as he leaned over and placed a soft kiss on Frankie’s lips as well.

Frankie smiled into the kiss before he leaned down and gave you one as well, “I ain’t leaving either, baby.”

Your skin tingled and warmed as you nuzzled yourself in between the two pairs of strong arms, “Good,” you murmured as you rest your head down, “Good.” 

[cleolinda]

Weekend links, April 7, 2024

My posts

This week feels like it has been a hundred years long (not in a bad way). 

Somehow we joined together to balance the seesaw just right so Ava Gardner and Jean Seberg could both go through in the Hot Vintage Lady polls (percentages rounded). Like, I’m wearing the Ava jersey and even I encouraged people to vote Jean when necessary. Honestly, I just wanted to see if it could be done. And it COULD. 

Round three has begun. It is already horrific. This is the first round that’s really going to hurt because we spent the last one really getting down in the dirt and championing our ladies, or learning about actresses we’d never heard of before and getting attached to them. And now? We are reminded: memento mori. Everyone loses but one. 

(I personally pitched in for Sara Montiel. “BUT JUST LOOK AT--” Yeah, I did, thanks.)

Reblogs of interest

April Fool’s Day: You were here for the Boopening, yes? The whole thing was that you only got badges for giving boops, not receiving them, which is a great way to not reward popularity contests, but also means that every last one of us was out here trying to figure out who to bap with a cat’s paw 1000 times. I said, listen, my notifications are already trash garbage today. I’ll take the bullet. Boop at will.

The Activity graph isn’t too clear on this point, but it looks like I had something like 65,000--hits? engagements? boops?--that day. Listen, I got the black paw badge too. We all did what we had to do in the Boopening. 

A Shakespearean boop of goodly length: “And, Meowntague, come you this afternoon, to know our further pleasure in this case, to old Food-bowl, our common judgment-place.” 

I had to go lie down awhile after a pun like “The Purrge.”

--

I had just gotten up from that pun and then I had to go lie down again.

Account security gothic

The Canada griffin

Dinotopia nostalgia

Two pairs of spectacles, one made from slices of emerald, and the other from slices of diamond

An old favorite: Cerberus as a puppy, guarding the gates to heck

I feel like these two posts have the same energy: Time cops will not let you travel back to the Titanic and bloodthirsty gazebos are currently in a dormancy period.

The birds are still troubled

PSA: The best sunscreens for your face

Video

A collection of various American Indian/indigenous American languages, including Navajo, Tlingit, Lakota, Colville Okanagan Salish, Cherokee, Yucatec Maya, Greenlandic, Mohawk, Yup'ik, and Mi'kmawi'simk. 

A trans health-and-wellness fundraiser (Mercury Stardust, Point of Pride, and friends) kept getting banned off Tiktok due to assholes. Here’s how to donate; I saw a few “here’s how they helped me” notes, so it seems like these programs are both legit and effective. 

You think you’re going to sit staring at this video because Chocolate Guy is weaving chocolate. Then you get into it, and it just keeps going.

“Too Sweet” is doing hilariously well on the charts for a song that didn’t even make the album proper. Hozier’s bees would like to thank you for your support.

I know I said that Stevie Nicks would make you sing backup on your own haunting, but late in this 1997 live performance of “Silver Springs,” she makes Lindsey Buckingham, the man she wrote this song about, look her in the eye while she belts it at him. This specific performance was released as a single (I was there, Gandalf) and nominated for a Grammy. Watch the video and you will see why.

The Women Those ‘Evolution Of Beauty’ Videos Leave Out

I don’t really know how to describe this rubberhose-style cartoon of Cab Calloway as a singing nightmare clown. Betty Boop is also there. “You just described it!” No, I really didn’t. 

How movable type worked 1000 years ago, from scratch.

Unrestrained seasonal yak fun

A snowy raven photoshoot

The sacred texts

I don’t know how to explain this double Sacred Text about ominous dreams that comes with its own comic, except to say that they’re so iconic that I first saw both posts in lo-res Pinterest screencaps.

April Fool’s: The ultimate sacred text.

Personal tag of the week

Wet beast Wednesday, which had both a headshake stickflip and bears on a swan boat.

[owl-with-a-pen]

Kara had been juggling so many duties over the last few days, it had really started to feel like she had a secret identity all over again. Her fingers had been a constant blur across her phone screen, so much that she’d jumped into several meetings without knowing what they were even about or – for that matter – that she had meant to have been leading them. She could have gotten away with that as Kara Danvers, but people tended to notice when Kara Zor-El got distracted - probably because it usually meant an Earth-wide threat was imminent.

She’d already had to reassure five separate co-workers that wasn’t the case, even going as far as cutting her final editorial meeting thirty minutes short so that everyone could start their Fridays early. Maybe that just made them more suspicious of her, but she was running out of time. Alex had already sent her three warning texts:

Car’s packed up, where are you?

Don’t make me call a DEO emergency just to get your butt out of there!

⌚👈🏻 ???

Kara rolled her eyes, catching her tongue between her teeth as she scanned the most recent notification. She sent a quick ‘OMW’ before slinging her bag across her shoulder.

She was halfway out the office door when a voice stopped her in her tracks.

“So, any plans this weekend?”

Kara froze.

Cat Grant usually spent her Friday afternoons lamenting all the charity dinners and extracurriculars she’d be forced to attend while Kara nodded along with a well-practiced sympathetic grimace locked in place. She’d long since accepted this as a one-sided expectation. After all, Cat didn’t really do small talk. Call it the journalistic disposition, but no question of hers ever came without intention.

She’d posed this particular question with an expectant air, her fingers loosely linked beneath her chin as she watched Kara with cat-like patience from behind her desk.

Kara took a shallow breath, knowing already what those piercing eyes were trying to gauge. “Actually,” she said, treading carefully, “I’m out of town this weekend. I’m visiting my adoptive mom with my sister.”

Cat’s lips twitched with something predatory. She lifted her chin, snatching up a pen from her desk so that she could play idly with the clicker. Every click was as intentional as her question, drilling deep into Kara’s skull. “Ah,” she said, nodding slowly, “and so I suppose one would assume that there won’t be much Supergirl activity to account for, then?”

Kara laughed, fiddling nervously with the collar of her blouse. “Even Supergirl needs a vacation every once in a while. You’ve seen the figures, crime is at an all-time low, National City can last a weekend without me.”

Cat watched Kara without expression, still clicking out a calculated rhythm. “I suppose,” she conceded lightly. “Especially with that new DEO division headed by your… friend, right? John?”

“J’onn,” Kara corrected.

“Yes, yes, that’s the one.” Cat bit her lip. “Wide shoulders.” Her eyes lost focus before she shrugged suddenly, setting down her pen with a prompt snap. “I wonder what he’ll be up to.”

“You know the DEO doesn’t give interviews,” Kara reminded her, trying and failing to hide the strain in her voice. “Not even to Supergirl.”

“Of course.” Cat pondered for a moment, cocking her head. “And the little green one works there too, doesn’t he?”

Kara sighed, the purposeful ignorance wasn’t lost on her, just as Cat had intended. She tipped her head back, resigning herself to the conversation. “What are you getting at, Ms Grant?”

Cat blinked, perfectly innocent. “Just counting heads. I only wonder if we’ll be seeing much of your Super Friends over the next few days… with you out of town, of course.”

Kara pursed her lips, drumming her fingers against the doorframe. “Well, they’re more than capable of managing themselves without me.”

“So, we will be seeing them?”

Kara spluttered. She’d really stepped into that one. “It’s a big city,” she recovered quickly, “I’m sure there’ll be out there somewhere.”

“Interesting,” Cat said, dragging the word out long enough to make Kara uncomfortable. She hummed to herself, running her index finger delicately over the items on her desk until she found her phone, snatching it up. “I need to make a few calls,” she decided, shooing Kara out of the room with her other hand. “Have fun with your—mother.”

Kara took that as her cue, making an awkward albeit flustered goodbye as she elbowed her way out the door. She didn’t try to listen in on the conversation once she was gone – she didn’t need to - Cat had seen through her as plainly as she had her old disguise.

Technically, what Kara had told her wasn’t exactly a lie. She would be seeing Eliza this weekend – after all, she’d been invited to Nia and Brainy’s wedding, too.

It didn’t matter, Kara rationalised as she hurried into the elevator, Cat could call on every source she had available to her and she still wouldn’t be getting this scoop. No one would. Kara had been incredibly thorough about that, using fake names when it came to bookings, throwing out red herrings to rival news outlets, all to ensure that the media didn’t get even one whiff of what was going down. No one was getting a camera into the service on her watch – well, except the photographer, and Kara had already run a series of extensive background checks on her.   

As for general media speculation – well, she’d already warned the bride and groom to be that there really wasn’t much she could do about that. Every magazine in the country was currently building up the clicks with Superhero news and, right now, Dreamer and Brainiac-5 were trending across all channels. Cat certainly hadn’t helped with that; she’d sunk her claws into the story the second Dreamer had first been spotted out toting a Legion ring of her own. To avoid public knowledge of future events, the Legion was something of a forbidden topic when it came to interviews and so, for anyone outside of the loop, Dreamer suddenly wearing a ring matching Brainy’s was certainly turning heads.

Engagement had been thrown around hundreds of times, with other outlets outright claiming that she and Brainy had been married in secret. Nothing had been confirmed or denied by either party, but Kara had to admit it– you only needed eyes to see the chemistry between those two. They fought as one entity, complimenting each other’s stances, supporting each other in the field so that they always fell into step with each other. Just last week, Brainy had swept Dreamer into his arms amidst an explosion they’d narrowly escaped and the shot had been headlining every newspaper not twelve hours later. They were anything but discreet and, honestly, Kara had a hunch they were starting to enjoy all the attention. It certainly made her job as Maid of Honour that much harder.

Hiding this wedding was probably shaving years off her life.

At least it would be worth it when she got to see Nia go down that aisle.

When her phone pinged again with a fourth text from Alex, Kara groaned out loud.

You just lost shotgun privilege.

She just had to get there first.

[whatitsdecending]

Chokehold: Pt. II

Vessel x Reader x Noah Sebastian

Finding yourself in a strange predicament between two men who had once shared your body at the same time. One with a tight grip on your heart and the other you just can’t seem to let go of.

A/N: thank you for the love on the first part! I decided to continue this an actual fic, rather than it just being a one shot. I will put this out here now:

I do not know anything about Vessel than what everyone else knows, all of this is fictional and made up by me.

Word Count: 4.4k

Content warning: none, fluff for this part and some cutesy moments

—————————

Two months had gone by and it was now November. You were in the lull between tours, the time where you get to sit at home and get extremely bored. You loved being on tour since you did something every single day, even on the off days.

This time around though wasn’t all that boring. That time three months ago where Noah had introduced you to Vessel was really sticking around. Vessel had given you his number, asking you to call him whenever you could. And you did. You never missed the chance to do so, calling him the next day early in the afternoon once the buses had arrived at the next place Bad Omens was performing. It only rang three times before he answered, the croak of his voice being used after he’d been asleep peaked your interest.

From that day on, you two either texted all day until you were able to schedule a time to call. The schedule you were on compared to his was a little difficult to find time where the both of you could sit down and chat.

Getting off tour made that so much easier for you. He’d call you up almost everyday around 2pm your time, even if he was in the UK he didn’t care how late it was for him in comparison. Every call you will talk until he falls asleep, which usually ends up being around 7pm for you. You’d hear the soft snores coming from his end of the line, signaling to you he was asleep.

“Goodnight Ves, sweet dreams.” You always say before hanging up. A small smile remained on your face as you began your nightly routine, something which you’ve caught yourself doing every time.

For hours you’d talk about anything and everything, it felt much different than the long talks you and Noah would have. Usually those talks with him would end in a hookup, but nothing else. You knew what you and Noah did was just casual, no strings attached. But sometimes you wished he’d just sit and listen to you talk for hours on end, let you rant about the crew who are pissing you off on that day or about the book you’d just finished reading.

But Vessel does. And you know he’s listening to you because he’ll ask you a follow up question on something you mentioned minutes ago. You longed to be able to see him again, to have these conversations over dinner instead of the phone. Whatever piece of him he left in you on that day remained and wouldn’t allow you to let go of the idea of him.

Which is why when your phone began to ring promptly at 2pm, your heart swelled at least twice its size. You hit the green answer button on the screen, then hit the speaker button.

“Hello darling.” His voice echoed into the room from the speakers.

“Hi Ves, how are things?” You asked, turning your focus on the pile of dirty laundry in your basket.

“Oh you know, same old same old. It’s getting quite boring doing the same thing everyday.” He sighs. “I wish I could just bounce around on stage right now and kiss my bandmates.” The laugh that erupted from you was loud and hearty, earning a chuckle from Vessel. “Maybe even kissing you.”

“Oh well now you’re just out of your mind.”

“Why’s that?”

“It’s impractical right now, the idea of you kissing me.” He was silent for a moment, clearly thinking of what to say.

“I don’t think so. It could certainly happen sooner than you’d think.” Now you stood in silence wondering exactly what he meant by that. A notification popped up on your phone, a text from him. You clicked it and gasped at what it was: a plane ticket to London.

“Ves.. what is this?” The shock ran through your body to the point your hands began to shake.

“I did some research and realized there’s a good amount of time between when I go back on tour and Bad Omens does. I bought you a plane ticket to come and stay with me for a while before then.” There was a tone of hope in his voice, you could tell he really wanted you to be there with him. “Y/N I really do miss you, even if we’d only seen each other once in person. Talking to you everyday has only exaggerated that feeling.”

You didn’t know what to say. Well, actually more like you didn’t know how to express what you wanted to say. Your thoughts ran millions of miles per second through your mind. What exactly did he want if you went? Would it just be absentminded fucking like you already did with Noah? Or would it be something more? Soaking up each other’s presence, completing activities the other picks out for fun. Would it actually feel like something was there rather than nothing at all?

“Yes.” After all the thought you’d put into a reply, a simple yes is all that could come up with.

“Yes?”

“Yes Ves. I would love to spend time with you before going on tour again. I think we both really need it.” There it is, slowly coming out of you the more the conversation moves along.

“I’m glad you’re on board. That makes my life a little easier now.” You could tell he was smiling on the other side, just from the cheekiness of his response. “Also I apologize for the late notice, you should probably get packing now and find your passport.” You quickly found the plane ticket again and realized the departure was for tomorrow.

“Oh you dick!” You exclaimed, running over to the closet that stored your two suitcases. Vessel laughed over the phone at the sound of your struggle, clearly enjoying the stress he just put you in.

“I’ll hang up so you can get to packing. Just make sure you text me when the plane is about to take off and I’ll figure out the best time to get you. I’ll see you tomorrow darling.” With that he hung up. You stared at the two empty suitcases in front of you, the bigger one that you only brought along for a tour. You decided it’d be smart to just pack it like you were leaving for tour, then the other one being everything else you wanted to bring.

At the point in which one suitcase was completely full, you had a moment of realization: why the hell did you just agree to go across the sea to a country you’re still very unfamiliar with, and stay with a man whom you’ve talked with on the phone way more than in person. Plus, the time you spoke in person was so minimal because he fucked your brains out.

It certainly was not your brain making the decisions today.

As you sat here staring at the suitcase, it truly put so much in perspective for you. Vessel clearly meant something more to you than you’d thought. He’s had enough of an impact on you in these past two months than anyone you’ve ever met. The universe really works in strange ways and you wonder if Noah’s little fantasy was actually just some sort of strange fate for you.

Or you were going crazy.

—————————

You stood in line at TSA in the airport, watching each person take their personal items and put them into the buckets. It was painful how long you’d been in line and each new person that goes through the process makes you wish it was you. Traveling wasn’t exactly your most favorite thing in the world, but with your job you had to do it, so at this point you just grew numb to the entire experience.

After another fifteen minutes you were finally making your way to the gate. You had enough time to get there so you didn’t rush, but the anticipation of knowing you’re one step closer to seeing Vessel made your legs move in a hurry. The gate already had a lot of people waiting, seeming like it’d be a full flight. How lovely, you thought, I see babies.

Like every flight you’ve ever been on, the boarding process was always the worst. You’d wish you could shove past everyone taking their sweet time putting their carry ons in the bins and just get to your seat, but you decided being kind and helping a few people out would make the experience more pleasant.

As you watched out your window seat while the plane taxied on the runway, you reached for your phone to shoot a text to Vessel:

Hey, the plane is about to take off. See you soon xo:)

You switched your phone into airplane mode as the plane began to shoot down the runway. The friendly feeling of your stomach dropping when the plane lifted into the air put a smile on your face. You were really doing this, some people would run away from an opportunity like this but you decided you had to run right to it with open arms. The flight might be a long one, but in the end, it’ll be worth every second.

—————————

“The time is currently 8:43 pm GMT, the temperature outside is 46° Fahrenheit. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to London.” The pilot said on the overhead speakers when the plane landed, a sigh of relief leaving your body. Landing was always the rough part for you, you’ve seen too many documentaries.

Your phone came buzzing back to life the moment you turned airplane mode off, texts from multiple people popped up and lots of work emails flooding your notifications. You glanced at some of the messages, mostly just your parents asking if you’d landed yet and sending you cute messages. Vessel had sent you a heart in reply to what you sent him before take off, which you immediately sent him a text letting him know you landed.

Then the name you hadn’t seen in a while was there… Noah had tried calling you but resorted to sending texts.

N: Hey, you okay? I’m being sent straight to voicemail each time I call you.

N: Y/N you’ve got me a little worried, you good?

N: If I did something please let me know I don’t mean to seem like an asshole.

You sighed at the messages. Out of all days, he decides to talk to you today. The one time you weren’t going to be able to use your phone for a long time and were actually happy about it. You quickly shot him a text back just as the plane was being parked at the gate.

YOU: Hey I’m sorry I didn’t respond. I was DND for a while and needed some time away from my phone.

N: Shit dude you gave me a heart attack, everything good?

YOU: Yeah! I needed one of those technology detoxes today, you know?

N: I understand that completely. Whenever you get the chance will you give me a call? I miss talking to you.

YOU: Of course, but I gotta get back to my detox. Call you later xo

You stuffed your phone into your pocket deciding to ignore the rest of whatever he wanted to say. Your mind focused on what you were here for, getting to Vessel as quickly as you could. You became extremely grateful the people in this airport knew how to walk fast and weren’t stuck behind any slowpokes. The impatience you had was becoming worse the closer you got to the baggage claim, you think if these people were moving slow you’d mow them down like a damn eighteen-wheeler.

The escalators that lead down to the baggage claim came into view and as you stepped onto one of the steps, you searched the room below to see if you could spot Vessel. About midway down, you noticed him standing further back in all black, he held a small sign that said your name on it and a bouquet of flowers. The smallest gesture he could’ve ever made yet it made your heart flip-flop.

Your feet made contact with the ground and you were running to him. He opened his arms wide for you, letting you leap up and hug him tightly. The familiar warmth and his scent that you’d picked up on that day two months ago was still there, putting a wide smile on your face.

“These are for you.” He put the bouquet in your hand after you’d placed yourself back onto the ground. He had a shyer demeanor about him this time around, it seemed like he was nervous you’d actually come to London to see him. Whatever the case may be, you thought it was sweet. The Vessel you’d met was very different from the one standing in front of you. Despite the different circumstances, you actually preferred this version of him.

“Have you been waiting long?” You asked when you headed to the baggage claim that was only a hundred or so feet from the escalators.

“Maybe an hour or so?” He said with a questioning tone. “I can’t quite remember, I just sat in my car for a while until you texted me that you had landed.” His hand rested at the small of your back under the backpack you’d brought as a carry on, guiding you through the crowded area. “Which bags are yours?” You got to the carousel that was unloading the baggage from your flight and watched for your two suitcases.

“Oh, sick they’re coming out together.” You said and began to reach for them, but Vessel had already begun to lift them from the conveyor belt. “Oh you didn’t need to do that.”

He smiled down at you. “I don’t mind at all, plus you’ve had a long day. You gotta rest those arms of yours.” He started walking towards one of the doors that lead outside when he laughed. “I just realized that made no sense, I just needed some excuse to take your bags for you.” You laughed with him. It didn’t even register in your mind that his sentence made no sense, in fact the jet lag was already hitting you hard. At this point you just wanted to lay down and sleep for an entire day.

You step outside and the chill November air of London hits you like a ton of bricks. The air pierced through your sweater and left you to shiver. The idea to check how the weather would be here when you arrived completely slipped your mind while you packed yesterday, though it would be common sense it’d be cold here in November.

You shadowed behind Vessel, letting him lead the way to where he’d parked. It wasn’t too far of a walk from where the two of you had exited, you were just excited to have the heat blasting on you. Luckily you remembered not to go in the right side of the car this time around, you’d embarrassed yourself pretty bad the last time you visited the UK.

“It’s not too far of a drive to my house from here.” Vessel says as he puts one hand behind the headrest of your seat and begins to reverse out of the parking spot. You couldn’t help but watch his face as his brows furrowed a bit while he pulled from the spot, he bit at his lip with concentration. “I wanted to make you some dinner if you don’t mind. Unless you’re dying hungry then I will happily stop somewhere.” The mention of food took you back to reality, the reality where the last time you ate was at 5am your time.. with the time change you cannot remember how many hours ago that was.

“What do you have in mind for dinner?” You ask, eyes wandering out the window as all the streetlights lit up the road.

“Uhh..” He trails off for a moment, the smallest chuckle escaping from his mouth. Your head whips around to see him trying not to laugh, his hand covering his mouth as his chest heaves with every laugh he stifles. “Spaghetti.” You couldn’t help but burst out laughing, a chain reaction spreading between the two of you as he started laughing just as hard as you were. The car was full of your laughter and the snorts that you cannot help once you start laughing this hard.

You began to calm down, wiping the tears that had fallen down your face. “I have no idea if that truly was that funny or I’m just so jet lagged that everything is hilarious to me.” Vessel patted your thigh lightly as went back to focusing on driving rather than crashing from laughing so hard with you.

—————————

After twenty minutes you were pulling into a long driveway, covered by bushes that lead to a home surrounded by forest. You couldn’t see much in the dark but from what you could see, it was a beautiful older home with a lot of charm to it. There were some lights strung up around the outside, and a wreath that hung on the front door.

Vessel took your suitcases from the trunk and you followed him up the steps of the porch, letting him unlock the door and gesture for you to go in before him. The aroma of sweet cinnamon and pumpkin filled your senses, lamps were the only thing lighting up the rooms in the house but added to the calming atmosphere.

Your curiosity got the best of you the second you noticed the corner of the piano in the living room, drawing you in to see the beautiful instrument upclose. Your eyes grew wide when the floor to ceiling bookshelf came into view, expanding from one wall to the other filled to the brim with books. The piano left your mind as you moved to look at his collection, your fingers running over some of the hardcovers of books you’ve always wanted to read. As basic as you were with your favorite, you pulled The Giver by Lois Lowry out of its respective place. You admired the clear love that Vessel has given this book, some of the creases in the pages from him reading it over time and the breakage in the spine of the book.

You put the book back into the place it was originally and continued gawking at his collection. There was a stack of books on a table near the bookshelf that caught your attention, when you moved closer you realized all these books were ones you’d talked to him about over the phone. You felt that pull in your heart, the familiar tug you always felt whenever somebody remembers such small things.

“I knew you’d come in here.” His voice echoed from behind you, startling you out of your trance. “You like it?” He stepped into the room with a smile plastered on his face. “You boasted about how much you loved those books, I couldn’t resist going to the bookstore the next day and buying all of them to read.”

“I’m going to be in heaven here. This collection is what I aspire to have one day.” Your eyes wandered over the bookshelves again, still trying to process the fact that this was an actual thing he had in his home. “It’s amazing, Ves.”

He smiled softly. “Thank you, I appreciate it. I set your things down in the guest room. If you want to get settled I’m going to get started on the spaghetti.” He trailed off to the kitchen, the sounds of pots clanging and cabinets opening and shutting filled the silence of his home. Your feet pulled you away from the room you’d grown to love, leading you to the stairs where you went to find the guest room.

There were paintings hung along the walls of the hallway, each one depicting a beautiful scene. You knew you’d spend some time staring at them and trying to understand the meaning behind it, but tonight your brain was too exhausted to even try.

A door was opened and light flooded the hallway from the room, you assumed that would be the guest room. Luckily you were right because your suitcases were left in the corner of the room and your backpack rested on the bed. It was a cozy room, not too heavily decorated but also not incredibly bland that it drove you nuts. Vessel clearly had a love for the Victorian style, many antiques littered his home and enhanced the coziness even more.

There was a bathroom connected to the room, a little more modernized than the bedroom itself but still had that same feel. It was lovely. Your hands smoothed over the large porcelain tub that sat in the corner of the bathroom, a window that overlooked the forest in front of it.

You began to unpack a bit and put your clothes away into the dresser, setting aside a pair of your pajamas to change into later on. The smell of red sauce flowed into the room and your stomach twisted into a knot. You were absolutely starving and the way the spaghetti was smelling you knew you’d be devouring it.

After a little more unpacking you decided to head back downstairs to see how close dinner was to being ready and if you could help in any way. As you stepped off the stairs the sound of Vessel’s voice caught your attention, he was singing along to the music he was listening to. His velvety voice was much quieter than you've heard it while he performed on stage, but it was rather beautiful this way.

You rounded a corner and walked into the kitchen, the sight of him putting together two plates of the spaghetti and singing was something that pulled at your heart again. “I was just about to call for you, dinner is served!” He exclaimed as he set a plate down at the table. “Do you want any cheese on yours?”

“No thank you.” A smile tugged at your lips as you sat down, waiting for him to come over with his plate and sit with you. “This smells so good, Ves.”

His eyes lit up as he smiled at your compliment. “Thanks, I tried my best to make it halfway decent.” He sat across from you and stared for a bit. “I’m waiting to see what you think..”

“Oh! Sorry.” You reached for the fork, twirling a bunch of spaghetti with it and placing the food into your mouth. It was delicious, probably some of the best spaghetti you’ve had in a long time. After finishing your bite you gave him a nod of approval. “That was amazing. Where did you learn to cook like that?”

He smirked as he chewed his food, twirling the fork in the pasta. “Cooking shows became one of my favorite things to watch during Covid, so I decided to get my shit together with my cooking and learn to do it properly. Now I actually enjoy it.”

“Do you bake as well or just cook?”

“I don’t bake, it seems like fun but I’ve never really had a reason to.”

You gasped in a dramatic fashion. “You’re telling me you don’t enjoy baking brownies at 2am for no reason at all?” He rolled his eyes at your little performance, a smile on his face that told you everything you needed to know. “We can have a 2am brownie baking party. Just not tonight because I feel like I’m about to fall over in exhaustion.”

“We’ll save it for another night.” He wiped his face with the napkin. “Did you find the room alright? I realized as you went upstairs that I didn’t tell you what room..”

You raised a brow, the same shyness from earlier was back. “Ves?” He glanced up at you and hummed a response. “Are you nervous that I’m here?” He hadn’t expected that question, so as the expression on his face went from shock to slight embarrassment, you could tell his brain was moving a million miles a second.

“Well… erm- to be honest I don’t have many guests over. Only my bandmates come to visit but they only ever stay for a day or two.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “This kind of company is new for me. Especially for how long you’re staying…”

“I’m a wonderful guest.” You placed your hands underneath your chin and put a big smile on your face. “Just ask anyone who has let me stay in their homes for a while.”

“Alright get me that list and I’ll make some phone calls.” Vessel chuckled, standing up and grabbing your empty plate. He walked over to the sink to start on the dishes, turning on the music again and humming quietly.

“Do you want a hand?” You asked as you stood from the table.

He shook his head and turned to look at you. “I’ve got it, you should go get some sleep Y/N you look exhausted.” He turned back to the sink and you watched as his arms flexed each time he put some force to scrub the dishes.

“Alright..” You couldn’t lie, the jet lag was hitting you hard at this point and the lack of sleep you got the night before has made itself very known. “I’ll see you tomorrow then. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight!” He responded as your feet shuffled back upstairs to your room. It was very quiet up there adding even more to your exhaustion. The set of pajamas you’d laid out before had quickly replaced the clothes on your back and you tossed them to the floor, making a mental note to clean that up tomorrow.

You turned off the lamp in the room and was comforted by the darkness that encompassed you. The sheets were silk and the comforter was heavy, it reminded you of the ones hotels always had. You slipped underneath the covers and laid there for a bit with your eyes open. Eventually you glanced at the clock on the bedside table, 11:24pm it read. You sighed and laid back against the pillows, sleep pulling at your eyelids and drawing them shut.

[little-earthquakes-rp]

@kit-just-kit ...plucked from the Disco server

Kit nodded as his suggestion, her brow quirking together as she added "I don't know why yet, But I believe she'll really stick out. This woman……the visceral nature of the crime is so against the feminine and maternal norm. It leads me to think that we're looking for a woman who was denied the chance of being a mother - say through illness or accident, she had a hysterectomy fairly young. Maybe even lost her breasts too perhaps. She doesn't feel like a woman anymore and so, has no empathy for these young, beautiful, most probably very fertile women who were the victims. but at the same time, she's elegant, refined. Possibly even still very beautiful herself even though she doesn't see herself that way". In a sense, she could be describing herself - apart from the fact that Kit was already a mother and found joy in it ever day despite not being with her children all the time. Still, she was of 'a certain age' and had been cast aside for younger models by her last husband, she understood the rage and emptiness of being so lonely, all of a sudden. "The male perpetrator is still the key, physically. He's the one doing the cutting, the raping. He knows what he's doing is wrong, but he wants to please her, to earn her respect and admiration. And she just wants an instrument to wreak her havoc on her victims - it's a very twisted dynamic". Her head shook slightly from side to side, somewhat lost in thoughts of the cruelty of the human race. And then, after a pause, she looked over at him and said "I'm sorry that you were forced to accept my involvement in this matter, Detective Rollins. I know it can't be easy to deal with my profession if you haven't had much interaction with us before". It was only a slight concession, made to try and smooth the way between them for the greater good. But it was needed, she felt.

Everything she said was vital information regarding both medical and psychological history, but he had no way to access any of it to help them find their alleged female suspect. It was frustrating and he wasn't able to stop as the disappointment showed when he sighed and sat back further in the seat. Everything mentioned regarding the female perp would come after they at least had a suspect, and shifted through her history. It didn't get them any closer to where they needed to be. At the mention of the male perp, Alex nodded in agreement and waited patiently for her to say more.

He listened as she worked through her thought process eventually finding herself at something they agreed on: it was a very twisted dynamic if her theory was correct. Watching her process was interesting, making it seem as if she wasn't trying to sell just him on the prospect, but also herself. The waitress interrupted briefly delivering the plates before scooting off to another table.

Alex grabbed his fork when he caught the apology. He paused and looked up staring stunted by the comment. What the hell kind of vibes was he putting out? Placing the fork down on the plate he blinked before doing his best to undo whatever he'd done. "My apologies Ms. Prince if I offended you in any manner. I've been a homicide detective for over fifteen years, and the job has hardened me a bit, or at least that's what I'm told by family and friends. Please forgive me if I've come off as rude or cynical. Something they also tell me." It wouldn't be the last time he'd have to make such an apology, but it was an honest one.

After a few bites, he'd received a notification announcing that they were indeed going to do another sweep of the crime scene. He shared the information, "Looks like they can head back over this afternoon." He sat down his cell and asked, "Would you like to go?"

[something-tofightfor]

Competing For Christmas 5: Holly Jolly Christmas (The Date)

Pairing: Modern Din Djarin x Female Reader

Word Count: 11,872

Rating: M. Specifically for language and a few vaguely sexual situations.

Summary: Helping Din pick out his first Christmas tree is the perfect beginning to your first date ... is the rest of the night the same? 

Author’s notes:

Had to split this chapter into two - but let’s be honest, the date itself is the most important half of it. 

Questions, concerns, comments? My inbox is open!

Thank you all so VERY much for the support and interest in this story - it’s been my happy place for the last few weeks, and I’m so glad that it’s been the same for so many of you. 

To get alerted when I post new chapters/stories, follow @somethingtofightfor-shares​ and turn on post notifications - you can also ask to be added to my tag list (link in bio or at the top of my taglist reblog)

Mando’a translations at the end!

Masterlist  / Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

Despite the fact you you and Din had blown past the hastily drawn lines of your friendship the previous weekend, both of you were extraordinarily busy at work the week following the cookie event and didn’t have much time to talk while at the office. 

And after hours, your evenings were filled with Christmas prep - a little shopping, wrapping presents with a glass of wine and by the light of your tree, making and freezing your appetizers for the Christmas Eve celebration at your aunt’s, and organizing and beginning to write out your Christmas cards. It was a lot, and it kept you occupied until it was time to climb into bed every night. 

But just because you didn’t see Din, that didn’t mean that you didn’t talk to him. 

The two of you texted back and forth often, sending back typed and voice messages throughout the afternoons and evenings, and even though neither of you could stop and talk for more than a few seconds at a time, you made it a point to say hello in person each day, the man’s bright smile and the deep dimple in one cheek lightening your mood more than you’d thought possible. 

You’d excitedly sent him the updated ranking on the competition site as soon as it was posted on Monday, your team name at the top and in first place, your lead fifteen points. He’d sent back a message showing you the contents of his shopping cart, the top basket filled with a variety of dog treats and toys and captioned “someone’s gonna enjoy our winnings” with a winking smiley face at the end. 

You were glad that Din was taking your suggestion literally and spending the money on Grogu, and so when, later in the week, you’d gotten another picture of the dog stretched out on the floor and sound asleep with a large bone tucked between his paws, you’d immediately saved it - and then spent the next few hours randomly opening it to look again and again. 

You had it bad for Din, and you knew it. The kisses you’d shared the previous week had only made you more aware of your feelings, and despite the fact that things hadn’t gone any further, part of you wished that they had. 

Not because you wanted to rush into anything with him, but because it had felt right to be in his arms, the man’s lips moving with yours until you’d both needed to breathe. He didn’t push for more, either. 

You laid in bed on Thursday night, staring up at the ceiling in your darkened bedroom - and like the previous nights, you thought of Din. 

You thought of Din and how understanding he was, of the way he’d been respectful of you, even when it was clear that he’d wanted to touch you and continue kissing you, though he’d pulled away and insisted that he leave instead. You imagined what it would be like to lay next to him, to fall asleep with the heat of his body warming you instead of your heated mattress topper, and you understood how dangerous those kinds of thoughts were to have about someone that you barely knew - only a month and a half out of what had been a serious relationship for you. 

I can’t help it, though. Rolling onto your side, you reached out for your phone, groaning as you saw that it was after midnight. “I’m going to be so tired tomorrow.” And you didn’t want to be - you wanted to be well rested for your date with Din, alert and aware of what was happening, even though you’d be spending almost two hours in silence in the confines of a darkened movie theater. I’ll still be with him. 

Checking one final time that your alarm was set, you went to put your phone down when a message came through, the vibration startling you - though the name at the top of the screen didn’t surprise you as much as it should have.

Hope I’m not waking you up, but I wanted to tell you I’m looking forward to tomorrow night. 

It made you smile, and even though you knew that you shouldn’t have replied, you couldn’t help it. 

Not sleeping. I’m excited, too. 

It took a few seconds but his reply made you grin, your eyes squeezing shut as you tightened your grip on your phone. 

Good. A second message came through almost immediately, another single word lighting up the screen. Goodnight. 

“Goodnight, Din.” Darkening the screen with one push of the side button, you set the phone down and pulled your blanket up to your chin, the smile still on your face. 

You were asleep moments later, and didn’t wake up until your alarm went off. 

— 

To say that Friday had been a difficult day at work would have been an understatement. 

By the time you were shutting everything down and heading for the doors of your building, you were rapidly reaching your breaking point, trying to get out of the office before anyone else could ask anything of you. 

But before you made it to the parking lot, you heard someone calling your name. What now? When you turned, expecting to see one of your coworkers chasing you down, you were met with the sight of Din hurrying toward you, his coat flung over one shoulder. Oh, thank God. “Hey, Din.” Leaning against the wall, you smiled at him. “What’s going on?”

“Wanted to catch you before you left.” He wet his lips, running his free hand through his hair. “We still good for tonight? Is he trying to cancel? 

“Yeah. I’ve been looking forward to it all week.” Blinking rapidly, you sighed. “Why? Did something -” 

“It’s been…” He blew out a breath, closing his eyes. “It’s been a really long day, and I just wanted to make sure.” 

“Din.” Straightening up, you, gestured for him to put on his coat and follow you outside. “Tonight is quite literally the only good thing I’ve had to think about all day today.” 

“Yeah?” His smile was broad, the man zipping up his jacket as the two of you crossed the parking lot. “OK, good.” When you reached your car - parked only a few spots down from his truck, you both stopped, Din saying your name. “So the trees tonight. Are … can I bring Grogu? Are they precut? Do I need to bring an axe or something?” 

“Yeah, you can bring Grogu. There are some that are pre cut, but others you can chop down. They have tools at the place if you need them, so no you don’t need to bring anything.” Shivering, you pulled your coat tighter around your body. “The tree place is on your side of town, so if you want me to come over there so we can leave from your house, I can do that.” 

“Ok.” He wet his lips. “What time? Figured we could grab dinner and go to a late movie, since the snowman thing isn’t until tomorrow night.” 

“I’m meeting Cara and Stacy at noon tomorrow to shop, so that works.” You cleared your throat. “So I’ll go home and change, and then head over?” 

“Can’t wait.” He smiled at you, glancing up at the sky, the clouds gray and threatening snow, even though it hadn’t actually started yet. “Text me before you leave your house?” You assured him that you would and then reached into your bag, grabbing for your keys. 

Din stopped your motion, though, reaching for your elbow and tightening his fingers around it. “Din?” 

“I really … am excited for tonight.” He swallowed, lines appearing on his forehead when he frowned briefly. “I hope you don’t think that I’m not.” Why would I think that? 

“Haven’t been this excited for a date in a long time, Din.” Leaning in, you angled your head so that you could kiss his cheek, his grip on you tightening further. “Now let me go home so I can get ready.” He grumbled but released your arm when you pulled away from him, unlocking your car. “See you in a little while, Djarin.” 

He stood next to his truck while you backed out of your parking space, the man raising one hand in a slow wave that you returned before you drove off. 

The kiss had been a bold move on your part - a show of affection that you didn’t know if he was comfortable with, despite the fact that he’d actually kissed you in the community center the previous weekend. He would have stopped me if he didn’t want it. You nodded as you stopped at a red light, eyes closing briefly. And he didn’t even move this afternoon. 

Twisting the knob on your radio so that you could actually hear the music playing, you didn’t even try to keep the smile from your face at the realization that in less than two hours, you’d be on an actual date with Din - one that didn’t involve planning for the competition or attending an event. 

— 

When you pulled up to the tree lot, you were pleased to see that it wasn’t as busy as you’d thought it would be. Probably will be tomorrow. Grogu bumped into the seat behind you as he moved to look out the window, and you heard a quiet whine coming from him, the noise the first that he’d made since the three of you had gotten into the truck ten minutes earlier. 

“You ready?” Din grinned at you from the driver’s seat, turning his head to look at you. “And something I forgot to ask is whether or not they sell tree stands here, because I don’t have one of those.” Ah, shit. 

“They usually do.” Rubbing your hand over the top of your knee, you nodded. “Maybe not the ones that actually have the place for the water in them, but that’s easy enough to fix with a bowl or a baking dish.” 

“You’re going to teach me so much.” His smile grew into a grin. “I knew I asked the right person to come with me.” Laughing, you agreed and then reached for the door, Din’s hand shooting out to stop your movement. “Hey.” 

Pausing, you looked back at him, staying quiet. Yeah? 

“After last weekend, I don’t know what the … how we do this.” Gesturing between your bodies with one hand, he continued. “I know you kissed me earlier, but is … can I… are we…” 

“Are you trying to tell me that you want to kiss me again, Din?” Cocking your head to one side, you bit the corner of your lip. “Because I definitely wouldn’t be opposed to it.” You’d been thinking about it all week - wanting more of what had happened in your kitchen and in the hallway at the community center, and with your permission, Din didn’t keep you waiting. 

Leaning over the center console, Din raised one hand to cup your jaw and bring you closer, the warmth in his eyes visible even though it was fully dark out, the cab of the truck illuminated only by the parking lot lights and the bright white bulbs stretched out above the trees. “I was hoping you’d say that.” He mumbled the words before he pressed his mouth to yours, a quick inhale through your nose all you managed before he began to kiss you in earnest. 

He didn’t deepen it, but his mouth did move, lips closing around your bottom one and sucking gently before he grazed it with his teeth, his hand sliding back and toward your hairline, the tips of his fingers curling slightly. 

Before it could intensify, a shout from outside startled you, Din jumping backwards and straightening up, his eyes wide. “What w-”

“A kid.” You pressed your lips together and closed your eyes, the heat in your cheeks making you shiver. “Probably saw all the trees, and couldn’t help themselves and…”

“Well then we should get out and make sure they don’t get the best one on the lot.” He sighed, releasing an unsteady breath. “And so we don’t spend the next few hours in here with -”

“We do have plans to get to.” Wrinkling your nose, you reached for the door again. “And I am going to be hungry, so…” 

Moments later, the two of you were walking across the parking lot side by side, Grogu’s leash held tightly in one of Din’s gloved hands. “Where should we start? He pointed. “Cut your own? Pre-cut? The barn?” 

“Why don’t we go to the cut your own first?” You touched his arm, fighting the urge to reach up and brush snowflakes off of his shoulder. “Lots of the families with kids steer clear of that side because wrangling a kid and an axe at the same time is kind of difficult, so…” He laughed but let you lead him off to the right, the freshly-fallen snow crunching beneath your feet. “I told you we’d have snow for the snowmen.” Bumping his shoulder with yours, you went on. “Have you seen the area they roped off for it?” 

“No.” He was eyeing trees as you walked down one of the aisles, his attention moving between them and Grogu, the dog pulling on the leash as he veered off to sniff the pine needles  on every tree you passed, his tail wagging furiously. “Have you?” 

“They posted pictures. I’ll show you later.” The event organizers had blocked off a large section of land in the park area at the center of town, dividing it into eight smaller sections and secluding them from view at the beginning of the week. “But all the snow we’ve gotten this week is perfect. And if we get a couple more inches tonight and tomorrow, it’ll be even better.” 

“You’re the expert there.” He whistled, the sound sharp. “Norac, Grogu.” The dog listened immediately - coming back to stand next to Din’s leg as a large family passed you, one of the younger children pointing at Grogu and squealing loudly. “Jate bora.”  

You kept walking, reaching out every so often to touch the needles on the branches, but you were determined not to lead Din into choosing a tree, hoping that the man would find something that he liked on his own. He followed you closely, eyes remaining on you the entire time you walked, but neither of you stopped until you reached the end of the third row, Din saying your name quietly. “Hmm?” 

“I have no idea what I’m looking for here.” He wet his lips, running a hand over his chin, his yellow-tipped black leather gloves catching your attention. “All these trees look the same, and -”

“Pick one that you like the shape of.” You sighed. “Pick one that doesn’t have a big bare spot, and that stands up straight. One that you can hang some lights and ornaments on.” Wait. “Do you have lights and ornaments? If this is your first tree…”

“I bought some from the store. They’re getting delivered tomorrow.” He nodded, looking pleased with himself. “Couple hundred lights, a few boxes of ornaments.” Ok, good. “Which one would you pick?” He moved closer, eyes on your face. “I know you have a fake tree now, but -”

“Din this isn’t my tree, though.” Your heartbeat quickened, lips parting at the implication of his question. “It’s -”

“I’m asking you for help.” He wet his lips. “And I don’t like asking people for help.” 

“Alright.” It was snowing harder, the flakes collecting on the branches, and your attention was drawn to Grogu, the dog sitting on his haunches and gazing up at the sky, nose twitching as he sniffed the chilly air. “Alright, Din. Let’s pick you a tree.” 

You started walking again, but instead of trailing behind Din, you walked next to him, pointing trees out as you passed them and stopping a few times to circle some, Din and Grogu following you closely. He reached out, touching your back and arm on more than one occasion, the man leaning in to smell the needles over your shoulder, the scent of his cologne overwhelming your senses. God, I like this. 

“Should we go to the other section?” You were back where you started, the crowd of people also looking for trees getting larger the later it got. “Neither of us saw anything that we really liked.” 

“Yeah.” We have to find something. We have to pick a tree. “The precut ones might be a better option, since you can see how they’ll sit when they aren’t still in the ground.” 

And so you did - the three of you heading over to the area where the trees were already cut and ready to be baled, Din immediately heading over to one that was just under 8 feet tall, the needles a deep, dark green. “How’s this one? I like the shape.” 

“It’s nice. But did you see this?” You stepped toward the back, pointing. “There’s a big bare spot.” You watched his face fall, Din nodding in resignation. “You could always turn it toward the back,” you went on, peering at it. ‘And I could show you how to hide it with lights, and -”

“You could.” His expression changed into a smile, Din pulling a glove off with his teeth to trail his fingers over the pointed ends of the branches. “If you wanted.” 

“I…” You did want. You wanted to very much, the idea of helping the man decorate his first tree something that you hadn’t even previously considered. But now it’s going to be all I think about. “I’d like that, Din.” Swallowing before you spoke, you took a deep breath and met his eyes. “I’d really like that.” 

He stared at you for long moments in the softly falling snow, and without thinking, you stepped closer to him, reaching out with one hand - like you were going to take his. But before you could, your boot caught a slick patch on the ground - a frozen puddle that was coated with a thin layer of snow - and you felt yourself falling, both arms flailing as your mouth opened in a gasp of surprise. Shit. 

Before you hit the ground, though, Din’s arms shot out and caught you, one arm curling around your waist and the fingers of the other hand - the one that he’d removed the glove from - twisting into the material of your coat and keeping you upright. “Cuyir ulyc! Careful!” He shouted the word, Grogu barking as the leash slipped from Din’s hand to around his wrist, his eyes never leaving your face. 

“Din, I -” He held you close, the toe of your boot finally finding purchase on the solid - non slippery - ground. “Thank you. That would have sucked if I’d gone down.” 

“You’re welcome.” He took a deep breath, pulling you closer. “No way I would have let you fall.” You believed him - the man’s strong arms and broad chest reinforcing the fact that he could back up what he was saying. I wish there weren’t so many layers between us. “If I let you go, are you alright to stand?”

“Y… yeah. Sorry.” Rolling your eyes at yourself, you covered your face with one hand as you straightened up, clearing your throat. “I’m usually not so clumsy, but the ground’s slippery, and…”

“I trip all the time.” He laughed, beginning to walk forward and away from the first tree. “Sometimes over nothing, so the fact that it took ice to get you off your feet? Impressive.” It made you laugh, relaxing you at the same time. “At home, when it snows, it usually doesn’t take too long to clear the streets and sidewalks, but something like this?” He gestured at the lot, glancing over to meet your eyes again. “We don’t have anything like this, so I have no idea how it’d be there. “ 

“Where’s home, Din?” It slipped out before you could consider the question, your eyes still scanning the trees as you stepped through them. “You’ve mentioned that you’re not from here a couple times, but never really said where you lived before.” He stayed quiet for a long time, and just as you opened your mouth to tell him not to worry about answering, you heard him sigh. 

“I’m from a small country overseas, but I spent a lot of my childhood traveling. My ali- my family is in politics, so we moved around a lot.” Oh. I wasn’t expecting that. “But the language that I taught Grogu in? It’s called Mando’a, and it’s a language that my… that the people in my country use.” 

“That makes sense.” The two of you stopped again, next to a sturdy looking Balsam fir tree and faced each other, Din’s expression once again worried. But why? “Why’d you leave?” That hadn’t been what he was expecting - you could tell by the way his eyes widened, but Din’s answer came smoothly, the man shrugging his shoulders. 

“Needed a change. Like I said, my family’s been in politics my whole life, and I didn’t want any part of it, so I left Mandalore and came here.” Mandalore… hmm. 

“I’ve never heard of Mandalore, Din. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s really small. Not many people have.” His smile came back, though it was more subdued than it had been earlier. “That’s actually where I went over the summer. Home. Had a little bit of a family emergency, and they needed me there to handle it.” 

“So I was partially right.” You grinned. “I’m glad you got it taken care of and were able to come back.” 

“I am too.” His attention shifted back to the trees briefly. “If I was home right now, we wouldn’t be here with you.” His words hit you hard, and to your surprise, Din reached out with one hand, draping his arm over your shoulders. “I like this one, by the way.” 

“Yeah?” He nodded, slipping Grogu’s leash from his hand and passing it to you before removing his arm. “It does have a good shape.” You tightened your hold on the handle of it, glancing down at the dog, who was watching Din, tongue lolling out of his mouth. 

“It does.” He stepped away from you and circled the tree, both hands reaching out to shake the trunk gently. “And there’s no bare spot back here. Looks straight.” He peeked at you from behind the tree, the smile back and taking over his entire face. “How’s this one?” 

“It’s your tree, Din.” You liked it too, the top almost a perfect point, the triangular shape one that you would have gravitated to as well. “But I approve.” He nodded, still looking at you from behind the branches. “Do you want me to go and -”

“No. Hang on.” He disappeared for a second and then reappeared - the tree still between you. “Here.” Din held his phone out. “Take a picture of me with this. I want to send it to my friends. They still can’t believe I’m doing all of this Christmas stuff, and …” Din trailed off and you took his phone from him, opening the camera app and snapping a few pictures of him standing next to the tree, one hand on his hip. “Grogu. Olaror.” 

Dropping the leash, you let the dog go, taking a step back so that you could get both of them in the picture before snapping a few. “Got ‘em, Din.” You flipped back through the images, eyes on the screen. “I think there’s a couple of …” You trailed off as you accidentally scrolled back one image too far, your face popping up onto the screen. What is… “Din? Why do you -”

“You weren’t supposed to…” He swore, bending over to grab the leash again and then moved to stand next to you, reaching for his phone. “I was…” He has a picture of me on his phone. And it’s not the one from the competition website, it’s one from my Instagram, and that means he … “After I sent that one of you and the cookies to Fennec, she said she wanted to see what you looked like, so I found that one, and …” 

“Did you tell her you kissed me under mistletoe, too?” Smirking at him, you arched a brow. “Or that I kissed you in my kitchen?”

“Yes.” Din didn’t look away. “Told another friend about that, too. About you.” Din blinked slowly, but you were frozen in place, staring at the man. “Fett says that it’s a surprise, but …” Fett? What kind of a name is that? It has to be a last name. “That he’s happy for me.” 

“I haven’t said anything to anyone.” You whispered the words, blinking to clear away snowflakes that had settled on your lashes. ‘I didn’t think -” 

“He’s my oldest friend. And I trust her with my life.” Din stepped back toward you, Grogu following. “But yes, they know about you.” I didn’t know that there was anything to know except that we’re partners but maybe I … “I hope that’s alright.” 

“Yeah.” Warmth bloomed in your chest beneath the layers you wore, the cold and snowy night suddenly much less so, and you stepped closer to Din again, careful to keep your footing. “Yeah, that’s fine, Din.” 

Leaning in, you kissed him gently - lips pressed to his, your hand settling against his chest. This feels too easy. It’s too fast. It can’t.. It can’t be this simple. When you pulled away, Din was smiling, the expression reaching his eyes. “Good.” He opened his mouth to continue but then his eyes darted away from yours before they came back, the happiness in them shifting to a look of apology. “There’s a bunch of people coming. Stay here with our tree while I go and get one of those carts.” Our tree?

Instead of questioning him, though, you nodded, absently reaching for Grogu’s leash again as Dn turned to walk back toward the cashiers and the barn. “He’ll be right back, Grogu.” Kneeling down, you rested one knee on the wooden frame that supported the trees, keeping it off the ground. “Are you having a good time, pal?” The dog looked up at you and then rose onto his hind legs, paws on your knee. “I like your dad, buddy. I like him a lot. And I think he likes me too.” 

Grogu inched closer, sniffing your face before he licked it, and you laughed at the sensation, grinning as you wound your arms around his neck and ducked your head to pull him closer. “He doesn’t usually like that.” Din spoke up from behind you, laughter in his voice. “I can’t believe he’s letting you do that.” 

“It’s a Christmas miracle.” Separating from the dog, you stood, turning to look at Din, the man gripping the handle of one of the metal-framed transport carts. “I’m glad there was one of those free. Carrying this thing all the way to your truck would have sucked.” He nodded in agreement and moved closer to where you stood, patiently waiting for a couple and their small daughter to pass. 

“The guy at the front said he could come help, but that if I didn’t need it, I could just lift it myself and wheel it up there.” 

“Yeah, the tag’s color coded for the price.” You pointed to the plastic orange ribbon near the top of the tree. “Here, let me get him out of the way.” You tugged on Grogu’s leash, the two of you stepping into the empty space that had been occupied by an already purchased tree. Keeping your eyes on Din, you watched as he stepped forward and then reached down, sticking his hands between the branches so that he could grip the trunk of the tree and lift it. 

It moved easily in his hold and you sucked in a breath at the sight of him hoisting the tree off of the base, the man grunting as it came free. He’s lifting that like it’s nothing. Din turned, the tree still in his arms, and let it drop into the cart, which was more like a dolly with a small basket at the bottom for the trunk to rest in. “Maker that’s prickly.” Fighting back a laugh, you and Grogu moved to stand next to Din, one of your hands reaching out to touch the branches. 

“It’ll be worth it though. This is going to look good in your house.” Wonder where he’ll put it. 

The three of you headed back down the path and toward the pay station, Din once again lifting it onto the table so that the employee could push it through the baler, the man setting it back onto the cart as a second employee talked to Din about payment for the tree and a stand. 

It was still snowing while you made your way back to Din’s truck, fat white flakes that dropped almost lazily from the sky and while he loaded the tree into the back of the truck, you turned your face up, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “We should go.” Din stood next to you, the pressure of his hand at the center of your back surprising you. “Gotta drop the little guy and the tree off, and then I need some food.” 

“Yeah.” Turning your head toward him, you  agreed. “Dinner sounds amazing right now.” 

The ride back to Din’s place was a quiet one, Grogu curling up in the back seat almost immediately and Din’s focus on the road, the headlights from oncoming cars highlighting his features as they passed. 

But even though neither of you said much, that didn’t change the fact that the moment you’d both been settled into your seats and buckled in, one of Din’s gloved hands had reached for yours, your fingers slotting together - and staying that way.  

---

The tree fit perfectly in the room with the fireplace, though it was set up a safe distance away. 

Once the two of you had carried it and the stand inside, you’d worked together to get it situated on the base, Din following your advice and using a drill to make a hole in the center of the trunk to help it absorb water. He needs a tree skirt. You made the decision as you stepped back to make sure it wasn’t crooked, Din bent over and tightening the eye bolts against the trunk. “Looks good, Din. You might want to turn it a little bit, but you can do that when you put the lights on.” 

“When we put the lights on.” He stood, brushing his hands off on his pants. “You said you were going to help me.” I did, didn’t I. Agreeing, you raised your hand to the back of your neck, staring at the tree in front of you. 

“You might want to put a sheet down around the base until you get a tree skirt, otherwise you’ll have needles everywhere.” Gesturing to the floor, you looked over at Din. “Unless you ordered one with the lights, because if you did, it should be alright for one night.”

“I didn’t.” He frowned. “Shit.”

“I can grab one while I’m shopping tomorrow, if you want, and give it to you when I see you tomorrow night?” Crossing your arms over your chest, you turned your entire body to face his. ��Give Grogu something soft to lay on?” 

“You don’t have to do that. I can go to the store tomorrow and get one.” He pushed his sleeves up, the tendons in his hands flexing with the motion. “Maybe grab some extra ornaments because I really don’t think I ordered enough.” 

“I have extras.” Your smile widening, you held up a hand. “Boxes of them, Din. They’re ones that got passed down to me but that I don’t use because I never have room on my tree.” Wrinkling your nose, you shrugged. “They’re nothing special, just round, multi-colored glass balls, but they’re good filler.” 

“Thank you.” He glanced over at the tree and the back at you. “I’d appreciate that.” 

“Don’t mention it.” You turned your attention back to the tree, both of you going quiet. The silence was interrupted a few seconds later though, the sound of Din’s stomach rumbling loud. “We should do something about that.” He looked embarrassed but nodded, checking the time on the clock above the mantle. 

“Lunch was a long time ago.” It was. “Let me put some food out for Grogu and then we can go.” 

You followed him into the kitchen, slipping your coat back on and zipping it while he filled the food and water bowls, though Grogu didn’t move from his place on the recliner, his body curled into a tight circle and his nose resting on his paws. 

The snow had stopped by the time you were heading back out to the truck, both of you sliding into the still-warm cab and getting settled. “Tonight’s been great.” You leaned your head back and then looked over at him, watching as Din reversed into the street. “I hope you’re having fun.” 

“I am.” He didn’t try to take your hand again, instead keeping both of them on the steering wheel. “I guess I never really thought about doing anything like this before, but after the last couple weeks, I’m really glad that I am.” 

“I was just talking about tonight, but I’ll take it.” He snorted, but didn’t say anything else. “I’m glad we’re doing this, too.” I really am. 

When you parked at the restaurant a few minutes later, you were happy to see that the parking lot wasn’t too busy, Din able to pull into a spot close to the entrance. That was a good thing, since it had started snowing again, much lighter than it had been coming down earlier - but the less distance you had to cover, the less likely it was that you’d slip and fall again. 

After being seated, you explained to the server that you were there to use your prize from the trivia contest. Once she knew who you were, she outlined what the overall limitations of the prize were before she stepped away from the table, leaving you to look over the menus

Forty minutes later, Din spoke up and voiced the thoughts you’d been having the entire time you were in the restaurant. 

“You know, I was figuring we’d get an appetizer and entrees plus a drink, but…” Din gestured to the spread in front of you - head shaking back and forth. “This is almost too much food.” 

You agreed. Each of you had ordered an appetizer along with an entree, and you had dessert coming, too. “I mean, it’s a good way to try more of the menu, but still…” Pushing your plate away, you closed your eyes briefly. “I probably didn’t need to order so much.” 

“It’s going to be really hard to sit through a movie after eating all of this.” He groaned, swiping his thumb over the corner of his mouth. “We didn’t plan well.”

“No.” You sucked air in through your teeth, eyes on him. “We did not.” You wanted to see a movie - wanted to continue the night with him, had no desire to separate … but also knew that the moment the lights went down, there was a good chance you’d fall asleep. “Din…

“Maybe we should go and see that movie some other time.” He frowned, a look of disappointment flashing in his eyes. “I hate to -”

“We could always watch a movie while we decorate the tree?” You picked up a french fry, taking a bite and chewing thoughtfully. “It won’t be the same, but at least we won’t risk falling asleep or being uncomfortable, or…” He leaned closer, eyes on you. “Or wasting the tickets because neither of us are paying attention.” 

“We’ll still have the tickets, though. So that means -” He took a sip of his drink, pausing for dramatic effect as he swallowed. “That means you’ll have to see two movies with me.” 

“I don’t think I’d mind that much.” Tapping the tines of your fork on your plate, you kept your eyes on Din. “I like spending time with you.” It was the right thing to say, the man’s soft smile turning into a full-blown grin. 

“You’re just saying that because I’m a good competition partner. If we’d lost trivia, you’d be somewhere else right now.” 

“You’re right.” You leaned closer. “Because if we’d lost trivia, we wouldn’t have gotten to come back here and eat for free.” Din laughed at your words, tilting his head back and exposing the column of his neck to you, your eyes drawn to the smooth expanse of skin. “I don’t know why you’re laughing, it’s true.” 

“I know it is.” He looked at you again before closing his eyes and nodding. “Damn, this is …” He swore quietly, taking another drink. “Is it always this easy?”

“No.” You answered truthfully, picking up your napkin and twisting it between your fingers. “It’s not, Din.” He swiped a hand over his face, dragging it over his cheeks and chin, but Din never looked away from you, the man’s eyes locked on yours. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Yeah.” He waited, hands flat on the table. Do you really want to ask this? You weren’t sure, but knew that you needed to, for your own sake. 

“Why me? Why after all these months, did you say yes to me when I know damn well that plenty of women have tried to ask you out since you’ve been here and you’ve turned them all down?” He took a few seconds to think, but when he replied, the response wasn’t what you expected. 

“I wanted to ask you out a while ago, but I knew I couldn’t because you were with someone. I didn’t know it at first, but after working here for a month? I knew about James. I knew you’d been with him for a while, and so I figured I’d keep it professional.” But that doesn’t answer my question. “I didn’t come here to try and date someone. I wasn’t… I’m not looking for quick and meaningless. I just wanted …” He trailed off, looking down. “I wanted to see what it was like being over here and having a normal job and making friends, and …” 

Scooting your chair in, you kept your eyes on the man. “That still doesn’t answer my question, though. Once you found out that I was with someone, there were a ton of other people to choose from. And I’m sure most of them wouldn’t have wanted to just … hook up or whatever, Din. Especially after getting to know you a little.” 

“You’re probably right.” He shrugged, the motion of his upper body casual, though his voice was not. “And there were a couple times I almost said yes to women when they asked, but it just never … when I thought about it, I didn’t need to date anyone.” No one needs to date anyone, Din. 

“Ok, but -” 

“And when you asked, I said yes because I wanted to. I knew you weren’t just trying to sleep with me, and I thought … fuck, it makes me sound so damn selfish.” He rested his elbow on the table and then leaned forward, rubbing at his forehead. “I thought we could get to know each other and keep it … friendly.” 

“Oh, I plan on keeping this very friendly.” You reached out, laying your hand on the one of his that was still on the table. “Haven’t I done that so far?” 

“I can honestly say that I haven’t ever kissed one of my friends the way you kissed me in your kitchen last week.” Din winked at you, his lips twitching into a smirk for fleeting seconds before settling back into a neutral expression. “Maybe that means I have a lot to learn about living here, but … I don’t think so.” 

His words made you laugh and after a few seconds, Din joined you, flipping his hand over to squeeze yours. “I’m perfectly fine with going back to how it was, Din. Just say the word, and -” 

“Nayc. No.” He ran his thumb over the inside of your wrist, moving it slowly. “I don’t know why you are different. I don’t know why after so long it felt right to say yes when you asked me. But I wasn’t lying to you when I said that I just wanted to see you happier again.” He let go of your hand, bringing his up and dragging his fingers through his hair. “And it seems like you have been.” 

“I have.” Admitting it wasn’t as difficult as you thought it would be, the words flowing out of your mouth without pause. “When James and I broke up, there was a week or so where I thought we might get back together. I missed him, or at least I thought I did. But then I realized…” You picked up another fry, dragging the end of it through a puddle of ketchup on your plate. “I just missed spending time with someone and enjoying it, and the more I thought about that, the more I realized I felt the same way even when I was with James.” 

It was the first time you’d admitted that, and it felt good to say it out loud. “What would you have done if he’d asked you to marry him?” He picked up his glass again, the ice cubes clinking against his teeth as he took a long sip. “Three years together is a long time, right?”

“It is.” A really long time. “Everyone was surprised we weren’t married or engaged, but I don’t … I don’t know what I would have said, and I think it’s because a part of me always knew he wouldn’t ever ask.” 

“You don’t deserve that.” Din said your name, a long pause afterward. “No one deserves to be led on for that long in a relationship.” 

“It is what it is, Din. And look…” You finished your drink, holding the glass in one hand as you continued. “It was a learning experience, and -”

“Bullshit.” He rolled his eyes. “A learning experience doesn’t take that long.” It shouldn’t. ‘If you’re with someone for that long, you know whether or not you want to be with them. And if you don’t see a future…” He shrugged. “You tell them so they can move on and find someone that does.” 

 “So you’d take less than three years to propose to someone?” He nodded. “Lucky woman.” It slipped out before you could stop yourself, but as soon as the words left your mouth, you raised your hand to cover it, eyes going wide. Shit, I just … Oh no. “I just mean…” 

“I know what you mean.” He inhaled, nodding at you without looking away. “If you know you want to be with someone, why wait until enough time has passed?” 

“And you know what?” You finished your fries, pushing your plate to the side. “Like I said before, it’s not even that I need to get married, or need that type of commitment. I just … I guess I want to know that the person I’m with… that they’re thinking about a future with me in it.” Wait, though, he might think you mean this, too. “But.” You held up a finger, trying to lighten the mood. “That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t want to date casually. I’m not naive enough to think that you just end up with the first person you date, or that sometimes things won’t work out even after you’ve been together for a while. I just…” 

“You don’t need to explain yourself.” He leaned back in his chair, still watching you. “You just want to know someone isn’t wasting your time.”  Yeah. That’s exactly it. “I have no interest in wasting anyone’s time.” He spoke quietly, leaning back in toward you. “I hope you know that.” Oh, I… 

You stiffened, unable to do anything but look at Din, but that passed quickly, allowing you to draw in a deep breath. “Thanks for that.” But that means you need to be honest with him, too. “Din, I just want to let you know that I don’t want to waste your time, either. I don’t… I don’t know what I’m ready for, or what I’m looking for, or -”

“I know.” He sucked an ice cube from his glass into his mouth, nodding. “It’s only been a couple weeks, right? We’ll get there.” Does that mean… Despite your growing closeness - the kisses and touching, the late night text messages and the increased time spent together, part of you had still doubted that what was going on with Din could ever be more than anything casual. Because he’s never acted like he wanted anything like that with anyone. “You have to get to know someone before you figure out whether or not you can be with them, right?”

“Right.” That put you at ease - Din wanted to get to know you, and was aware of where you stood when it came to what you eventually hoped for … and he was still sitting across from you, watching you with a kind smile on his face and genuine interest in his eyes. “Din, I never meant for it to -”

“I’m glad it did.” He wet his lips, the tip of his tongue flashing pink against them. “And by the way, I consider this an actual date, so…” 

“Good.” Laughing nervously, you tapped your fingertips on the table. “I do, too.” 

Din’s mouth opened as he started to reply, but the man was cut off by the return of your server, two plates of dessert in her hands. “So, since your meal’s been taken care of tonight, whenever you’re finished with these, feel free to go.” She smiled at you first - and then Din, her eyes lingering on his face. “If you need boxes or refills on your drinks, just wave me down, but if you don’t, then thanks for coming in.” 

“Thank you.” Din nodded, head turned to look up at the woman. “Appreciate it.” She didn’t linger, leaving the two of you alone, and even though there was more to say in relation to your previous conversation, Din took a different track with what he said next, clearing his throat as he picked up his fork. “So tomorrow… tell me about this snowman thing.” 

“Well.” You took a bite of your dessert, groaning quietly at how good it tasted. “Like I said, they block off enough space for everyone to build. We do it in secret, so that people can’t tell who makes what, and then when we’re all done, they take down the walls and reveal the snowmen.” He nodded, his eyes on your plate. “You can try it if you want, Din.” Pushing it forward, you gestured with one hand. “It’s fine.” 

He didn’t hesitate to reach over and take some, your eyes on him as he lifted the fork to his mouth. “Shit, that’s good.” It is. “Want some of mine?” You did, repeating the same with his plate, and after a few seconds of comfortable silence, Din spoke again. “So then who judges?” 

“There’s a panel, like with the cookies, but there’s also a public vote, so the people that are walking through the park get to decide.” 

“What if someone cheats and tells people what they’ll be making? Or people can tell based on -”

“That’s just a risk of joining the competition.” You shrugged. “I’d like to think that people wouldn’t cheat like that, but…” But it could happen. “You’re not allowed to make snowmen that could identify you. So like, we couldn’t make us and Grogu, for example. We’ll be given a theme at the start of our time, and then have to make something based on that.” 

“A theme? How do you make themed snowmen?” His confusion was endearing, and as you finished your dessert, you rubbed your hands together. 

“They’ll have accessories there to go along with the theme. One year, it was a tropical theme, so there were a bunch of Hawaiian shirts and straw hats… coconuts and seashells… stuff like that.” He nodded. “It’s to even the playing field, so that everyone’s doing a variation of the same thing and has to work with the same props.”

“Alright.” He sighed. “Well, I guess that we just have to wait now, right?” Right. “How are you feeling?” 

“Full.” Groaning, you stared down at the table. “I’m ready for a nap.” 

“You can hang out at my place for a while, if you want.” He sounded hesitant to suggest it, and you wondered if it was because he thought you’d say no, or because he was just nervous, but either way, it was endearing. “There’s not much to do, but…”

“I’d like that.” Turning your head toward the window and squinting, you sighed. “As long as it’s not snowing too hard. I don’t want to get stuck in a Baby It’s Cold Outside situation, and -”

“What?” He interrupted you, blinking. “I have no idea what -”

“Oh.” Laughing, you pulled your phone out and typed into Google, sliding the device over the table toward him. “So the song goes back and forth between a man and a woman, switching between them every other line.” 

He picked it up, eyes scanning the screen, and a few seconds later, Din laughed, covering his face with one large hand. “I’d just drive you home if it got bad out and you really didn’t want to stay.” Of course you would. “They played this one at trivia, right? I remember hearing it.”

“They did.” You took your phone back from him, nose wrinkling. “And I was just trying to make a joke, I keep forgetting you don’t know all of the little… anyway. Yeah, Din. I’ll stay over for a while if you want me to, since I planned on being out kind of late anyway.” He looked relieved again, and when, a few minutes later, the two of you were back in the parking lot, coats completely zipped to ward off the cold, you were happy to see that it had stopped snowing, the sky above you littered with twinkling stars. “I’ll have to take you up to the lookout sometime, Din. It’s cold, but the view’s amazing, especially this time of year.” 

“The lookout?” He moved closer, turning his head to look at you. “I think I’ve heard a couple guys at work talk about that.”

“I’m sure you have. It’s really popular.” He unlocked your door, his hand trailing over your shoulder as he stepped back. “Teenagers go there to make out all the time, and -”

“Oh, so if we go there, is that what you’re expecting?” Turning to face him, you watched as Din crossed his arms over his chest, the silver of his coat glinting under the streetlights. “Maybe it’s me that needs to be singing about having to leave early to get home.” You lost it at that - laughing so hard you doubled over, eyes squeezing shut. Oh, Din. 

“You caught me.” Gritting your teeth in a faux-wince, you straightened back up. “Dragging you off to somewhere dark and secluded -”

“Tell me the night, and I’m there.” He winked at you, the man uncrossing his arms and reaching out, his knuckles brushing over one of your cheeks. “No dragging required.” 

You felt it then - the scales dangerously close to tipping over in a direction there’d be no returning from, but instead of letting it happen, you turned your head to the right, your lips grazing over his fingers briefly. “Alright.” 

And then you pulled back, taking a deep breath and turning back to face the car door and gritting your teeth for real. Don’t get ahead of yourself. It was hard not to - the conversation that you’d had over dinner giving you a better idea where you stood with Din, the man’s admission that he liked being straightforward and didn’t want to waste time aligning with exactly what you were looking for.  But it’s too easy. It’s too easy, too fast, and I can’t… I can’t let myself get lost in all of this. 

You gave yourself the reminder as he slid into the seat next to you, the truck rumbling to life. You and Din talked on the way back to his house, though it was mostly inane conversation, centered on work and people that you both knew - words meant to pass the time and nothing more. 

When he pulled into the driveway and parked next to your car, you were the first to get out, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, the cold air filling your lungs. “I don’t know how you can do that after eating all that food.” Din’s voice interrupted your thoughts, the man coming up next to you. “I feel like I’m going to be sick. That cheesecake was not the best idea.”

“But it was so good!” You reached over, pressing your hand against his chest. “You liked it!” 

“I did,” He laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “But that doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t know my limits and not…” He moved as he spoke, his hands going to your hips as yours remained on his chest, the other one hanging by your side. “... not stop myself from taking things too…” 

You didn’t even try to stop it - the man’s head angled and dipping toward yours, the way your eyes moved from his and down to his lips, your focus on his cupid’s bow, the center of it over the fullest part of his lower lip. I don’t want to stop it. He kissed you, pulling back at the last second and softening the contact, lips pressing to yours almost hesitantly.  

He held you there for long moments, your second hand rising to curl your fingers around the back of one of his elbows. And then Din walked you backwards, only stopping when you made contact with the surface of the garage door, but even then he didn’t pull away, a quiet huff escaping through your nose and a matching one from his as the kiss continued. 

Fisting the material of his jacket against your palm, you kept him close, even after Din pulled back to breathe, resting his forehead against yours and inhaling shakily, his hands still on your hips. “Got carried away there. Sorry about that.”

‘Din…” It came out breathily, a puff of air visible on the following exhale. “Don’t ever apologize for kissing me.” Muttering that he’d remember you saying that, he tilted his head and kissed you again, that one short and a little more forceful. 

“Time to go inside. It’s cold out here and we’ll be out for long enough tomorrow.” Yeah, we will. 

So you followed him into the house, peering around the corner in time to see Grogu lift his head up and over the arm of the chair to look in your direction before laying it back down, his eyes closing again. “Smell that?” Inhaling deeply, you closed your eyes. “Nothing like a fresh cut tree. Give it a couple days and the whole house will smell amazing.” I’ve gotta burn candles to get that smell in my place.”

“Yeah?” He’d taken his jacket off, hanging it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. “I like it.” 

“Me too.” You took your coat off, too, picking another chair, and then stared at the man, waiting to see what he said next. It was the first truly awkward encounter between the two of you, and you couldn’t quite place why that was the case. But the longer  you stood there, the more you understood. 

It was awkward because neither of you knew where to go next. 

It would have been easy to step forward and take his hand, to pull him toward you and tell him that whatever happened was fine with you. It would have been easy to grab for your coat, pulling it back on and telling him that you’d had a great night but you needed to go. But with either of those options, the hard part would be tomorrow. It would be the rest of this - 

“Want to watch something on TV?” He scratched the back of his neck, shuffling his feet on the floor. “Gotta be something good on, right?” The middle option. 

“Yes.” He moved with your agreement, leading you down and into the room that Grogu was in, and after letting the dog outside, Din sat down next to you, leaning forward and reaching for the remote. “Maybe we can find one of the Christmas specials on somewhere. Have you seen any of them?”

“No.” He leaned back, remote held up in front of him. “I know what they are, but I haven’t seen any of them. Which one do you like the most?” It took you a second, but you were able to give him an honest answer. 

“The original Grinch. It’s animated and it’s really old, but it’s …” You leaned back and then tucked your feet beneath your body. “It’s got charm. Rudolph is great, too. All of the old animated ones are… they remind me of being little.” 

“Yeah?” He looked over at you, smiling just enough so that you could see it. “Are there Christmas movies that aren’t cartoons that you like, too?”

“Plenty.” You cleared your throat. “Have you seen Die Hard?” 

“I have.” That shocked you, but it resulted in a conversation that wasn’t at all stilted, the two of you talking about other Christmas movies for the next twenty or so minutes, Din only getting up to let Grogu in and go into the kitchen for water. 

He brought you a glass without you asking, handing it over and then heading for the tree and trailing his fingers along the ends of the branches while you stayed on the couch. I never thought I’d be here with him. 

Din stood in front of the tree, his back to you, and even though there weren’t any lights or ornaments on it, it still felt cozy, dispute the tentative way he touched the branches. “You’re not gonna hurt it, Din.” Climbing off of the couch, you moved to stand next to him. “When we had a real tree when I was a kid? We used to shove our arms in between the branches and shake it, just to get rid of whatever needles were going to fall out before we started decorating.” 

Pulling your sleeve over your hand, you did just that, gripping the trunk and shaking it hard, looking down in time to see a few needles settling on the carpet. “You weren’t kidding.” Nope. 

“You picked a good tree, Din. It fits in this room.” Pausing, you pulled your hand back, making sure that the entire thing wasn’t going to fall over. “And -”

You stopped mid-sentence, though, when Din’s arm went around you, urging you closer. What is he doing? “It’ll look even better when it’s decorated.” He took another breath, tightening his hold on you. “Right?”

“Right.” Just go with it. Go with it, because the other option is walking away and … I don’t want to. “Did you go with colored or white lights?” 

“Multicolored. I really like the way yours looks, so I got those.” That made you smile, even as you ducked your head down to hide it from him. “When did you want to come over? Tomorrow night? Sunday?” 

“If I come over Sunday, that means you’ll have seen me every day for a week straight.” And then next week at work, too. You tried to play it off as a joke, bumping into him with your shoulder, but Din didn’t laugh, keeping his arm around you though he turned to face you, too. 

“And? What’s the problem with that?” 

“I don’t want you to get sick of me.” It was happening again, the two of you moving closer together, his hand sliding over your back to settle at your hip, the other one traveling slowly but purposefully up your opposite arm. “Din, I -”

“How could anyone get sick of you?” You licked your lips at that, opening your mouth to reply, but he didn’t let you, his fingers closing around your shoulder before they moved up, Din’s large hand pausing against the side of your neck before it moved back so that he could tilt your chin up. “That’s not possible.” 

“You don’t know me well enough yet,” you mumbled, but there was nothing behind it. “You -” That was as far as you got, Din whispering your name before he kissed you.  

It started out slow, like the others, but quickly changed into something more - the earlier kisses from that night acting as the kindling for the fire sparked by the touch of his lips to yours. And you made the most of it, your hand rising to the back of his neck and then settling there for a few seconds before you broke apart from him for a moment, a breathy “fuck it” all you managed before you dove in again, crushing his lips with yours and sliding your hand up, fingers tangling in his hair. 

Din groaned into your mouth when you tugged on it, the strands soft and curling around your fingers, and when he shifted his hands on you, the hold turning into him gripping the back of your neck and the hand at your waist pushing up and taking your shirt with it, exposing a strip of your skin to the open air of his living room, you gasped, the opening apparently exactly what he was waiting for. 

He slipped his tongue past your parted lips moments later and all you could do was nod at the action, encouraging him wordlessly when you met it with your own, your grip on his hair still tight. There was urgency in the kiss for the first time, the movement of your mouths turning sloppy the longer it went on, but you didn’t care. 

When you paused to breathe, chest pressed to Din’s and heaving, you looked up, opening your eyes. He was watching you, searching your face for any sign of hesitation, and when you didn’t give him one, he grinned and swooped in again, nodding before closing his lips around your lower one and sucking, the softness replaced with teeth moments later, the edges of them dragging over your lip. 

You continued to touch him, too - fingers loosening in his hair and instead stroking it, the movement made easier when Din broke away from your mouth and pressed a trail of kisses across your cheek and then down, following the line of your jaw. Oh, shit. I… Your body responded before you even realized you were doing it, head tilting away and exposing more of your neck to him - and Din took full advantage. 

You kept your eyes closed and took a long, deep breath as he latched onto the thin skin where your neck met your shoulder, the rasp of his beard raising goosebumps at your throat. Din stepped backwards and you followed, almost certain that he was leading you toward the stairs. And that’s fine. That’s -

A loud squeak startled you and you jumped away from Din, eyes wide. “What the -” 

But he was laughing, the man’s mouth open as he tilted his head back. What was … You figured it out as soon as you glanced down, Grogu off of the chair and attempting to pick up the toy that Din had stepped on, paws spread apart as he nosed at it. “Dank farrik.” Din groaned and you raised both hands to your face, covering it with them. Shit. 

 “Din, I -” 

“We got carried away.” He said your name and you peeked through your fingers, heart still racing as you attempted to calm yourself down. “We got carried away and I didn’t mean for …” 

“I’m sorry.” It was second nature to you to apologize, but as soon as the words left your mouth, you felt Din’s hand at your elbow, urging you closer. 

“I’m not.” His eyes were blazing, focused on your face. “It’s a good thing we stopped, but I’m not sorry.” Pulling on your hand, Din led you up the stairs and into the kitchen, Grogu finally getting the toy into his mouth and then following you, the quiet click click click of his nails on the hardwood stopping only when he laid down, the toy securely between his paws. “Wanted to do that all night, actually.” 

“Yeah?” Leaning your against the edge of the counter, you watched as Din faced it, lowering his head to grip the edge of the sink with both hands. “What took you so long?” 

“Didn’t know if you wanted it, too.” Turning his head, he shrugged. “Now I do. But.” He sighed, looking down, and you watched his shoulders rise and fall, the man squeezing his eyes shut. “I don’t … it can’t go further than that. Not now. Not yet.” 

“OK.” Confused, you stepped closer and put your hand flat on his back. “I don’t expect you… or us to… Din?”

“I meant what I said when I told you I don’t want to waste your time.” He said your name, looking back at you, and for the first time, you saw genuine anguish in his eyes, the man’s uncertainty almost tangible. “And until I know for sure I wouldn’t be, it’s not a good idea for us to … take this further.” 

You had no idea what he was talking about or how he could possibly be wasting your time, but you chose not to question it. He wouldn’t say it if he didn’t mean it. He’s got to have a reason, and … “Does that mean you don’t want to see me again? Or finish the -”

“No, not at all.” He straightened up, reaching for you and encircling your wrist with his fingers. “Competition is still on. And of course I want to see you again, we’ve got a tree to decorate. But this…” He squeezed your arm and then reached for you with his other hand, running his thumb over your lips. “We’ve got to slow it down.” 

It was disappointing - not because you expected the man to take you to bed, or because you’d even imagined that that’s where things were going. But to hear him lay it out and say that it couldn’t happen was like a knife to the heart. But he’s still touching me. He’s still right here, and he’s still… “Alright, Din. If that’s what you want, I’ll be… more mindful of -”

“It’s not what I want but it’s what has to happen.” He rolled his eyes, thumb dragging slowly over your collarbone. “For now, anyway.” He paused, frowning. “Do you trust me?”

“I have no reason not to.” It was a dangerous thing to place your trust in a man that you’d only really been getting to know for a few weeks - and you knew it - but that didn’t change how you felt - or the sincerity in your words. “I should probably get going though. We’ve already proven we can’t keep our hands to ourselves.” 

“Not sure how anyone can around you.” He smiled, the look in his eyes changing back to one that was more relaxed. “And I mean that.” 

“Thanks, Din.” You were reluctant to pull yourself out of his arms but you did it anyway, reaching for your coat and pulling it on. “Meet me tomorrow at 4 at the park? Do you know where the lot is?” 

“I do. And that works.” He scratched at his cheek, nodding. “We never decided on a day for the tree.” We didn’t. “Unless you’d rather not help after tonight. And I’d understand, because -”

“How about this.” You stepped closer, arms crossed over your chest. “You have a fireplace and I don’t. Why don’t we decorate tomorrow night after the snowman thing? You can light a fire, and it’ll help to set the right mood … and it’ll warm us up after hours in the snow.” 

“I can do that.” He blew out a breath, eyes darting off to the side so that he could look at the clock. “Easy.” 

You were prolonging the inevitable, and so you made your move for the door, Din following close behind you - and Grogu behind him. When you reached it, you grabbed for the handle, pausing and deciding to turn back around. “Make sure you dress warm tomorrow. Boots and gloves and a hat… it gets cold out there. They have warming tents, but sometimes…” 

You thought back to the first year you’d entered with James, and how cold you’d both been before the end of it - your gloves dripping wet and his boots soaked through. “I told you. I like snow. I’ll be fine. Thank you for the reminder, though.” 

“No problem.” Digging through your bag for your keys, you nodded. “Ok, Din. G’night.” 

“Hey.” He said your name again, caution in his tone. “I promise I’ll explain everything when I can. Thank you for understanding.” Yeah. Yeah, it… 

“I’m just trying to come to terms with the fact that kissing me got you so distracted that it took you stepping on a squeaky toy to come to your senses.” He grinned at that, both of you looking down at Grogu and then meeting each other’s eyes again.

“I would have stopped myself.” He reached for you, curling his fingers under your jaw. “I was distracted but still wouldn’t have let myself get completely out of line.” 

“Good to know.”

It was happening again, the pull between the two of you making you lean in, the subtle change in the position of his hand telling you exactly what was going to happen moments before it did. 

Din kissed you once and then turned his head to the side, lips landing on the corner of your mouth and lingering. “Get home safe.” He whispered the words before pulling away, the tip of his nose dragging up and along your cheek before he stood up straight. “And I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Yeah.” Swallowing hard, you reached behind you and twisted the doorknob, the gust of cold air bringing you completely back to the present. “Thanks for tonight, Din. It was …” Perfect. “You know.”

“Yeah. I do.” 

Stepping onto the porch, you headed for your car, only looking back at Din when you were sitting in the driver’s seat. He was standing in the doorway, eyes on you - and when you put the car into reverse, he nodded his head once in a silent goodbye - you lifting your hand to wave in return. 

—  

Norac: back

Jate bora: good job

Cuyir ulyc: be careful

Olaror: come

Nayc: no

Tag list coming soon! 

[all-the-things-2020]

Late Night Talking - Chapter Six

Summary: It’s still summer break but all good things must come to an end. Some silliness and a bit of angst just to up the ante.

Rating: PG-13 (yes, despite the GIF above, there is still no smut … Emily is shy ☺️)

Word Count: 2100+

Tag list: @rhoorl @avastrasposts @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @gwendibleywrites

Dieter and I had been dating about a month when he gave me the password to his phone. “In case it rings and I’m busy,” he said. But I soon realized he had an ulterior motive.

“I’m going to take a shower,” he said one afternoon when we’d gotten back to his place after a day at the botanic garden. We were meeting his friend Tony and his wife for dinner later, so we needed to change clothes. Before he headed for the bathroom, Dieter tossed his phone on the coffee table. “In case Tony calls,” he said.

I turned on the TV and found a documentary on Iceland that looked interesting. A few minutes later, Dieter’s phone buzzed and skittered a few inches across the table. I picked it up to see a notification of a text message from his bank. I was about to put it back down again when I saw the number at the corner of the iMessage icon. Then I saw the one on the Phone icon. And the one on the Twitter icon. And the one on the Instagram icon.

Dieter came out of the shower, with only a towel wrapped around his waist. “Your turn,” he said, drying his hair with a second towel.

I waved the phone at him. “Why do you have so many notifications on everything on your phone?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I never delete anything,” he said.

“You don’t have to delete them to get rid of the notifications,” I said. “You just have to open them.” He looked at me with his head cocked to one side. “You do open your notifications, right?”

He shrugged again. “That takes too much time,” he said.

“It takes like two seconds,” I laughed. I was very careful to always open any notifications on my phone. If I couldn’t take care of it at that moment, I at least read it and left it to be dealt with later. None of the icons on my phone had numbers on them.

“Two seconds for each one,” he said. “That adds up.”

“Can I clean them up for you?” Now that I’d seen those ridiculous numbers, they were driving me nuts.

“If you want,” he said. “But after you shower. We’ll be late if you don’t get a move on.”

I tossed his phone back at him and headed for the bathroom. Once I’d showered and changed into the dress I was wearing to dinner, we still had plenty of time, so I asked Dieter for his phone.

He laughed. “You’re still on that?”

“Yes,” I said. “I don’t know how you can stand to have all those notifications just sitting there.”

I opened up iMessage first and started going through the texts, asking him if he’d already responded, until I got to the ones from two weeks ago, at which point I just opened and closed them to clear the notification. Anything that old was useless, anyway. I’d gotten through about five weeks worth of texts before the phone rang. Dieter grabbed it from my hand and answered it.

“Yeah,” he said. “Okay. See you in a bit.” He hung up the call. “That was Tony. They’re running a bit late. Mario dumped a thing of paint all over himself and Elena has to change him before they drop the kids at the babysitter.”

He handed the phone back to me. “Want to keep playing?”

“Yes,” I said. “When I’m done, your phone is going to look as uncluttered as mine.” I kept opening and closing texts as we got into the car and drove to the restaurant. I was almost done with the text messages when Tony and Elena arrived and I had to put the phone away.

“Why’s she messing with your phone?” Tony asked.

“She discovered that I never clear or delete anything and it’s driving her nuts,” Dieter said with a laugh.

“Uh oh, he just suckered you into cleaning up that phone of his,” Tony told me. “He had 300 voicemails one time.”

“Hey, as long as it gets done,” I said. “And anyway, it’s job security. He can’t break up with me until I finish it and that could take years.” I winked and Tony and Elena both laughed.

“She’s got you there,” Elena said. “Smart woman.”

***************************************

It actually took me two weeks to clear everything off Dieter’s phone. I’d spend a few hours working on it every time we were together, and of course there would be new items for me to clean up since the last time I’d had my hands on his phone, but eventually I was able to hand him a phone with absolutely no notification numbers cluttering up the screen.

“Ta da!” I said. “Now promise me you’ll keep on top of this.”

“I thought that’s what you’re here for,” he said. “Besides, if I keep cluttering it up, you have to keep cleaning it up and then I can’t break up with you.” He slipped his arms around me and kissed my neck. I forgot all about the phone for a while.

The next morning, while we were getting dressed, I realized that Dieter hadn’t put on any underwear. “Um, what’s up with that?” I said, gesturing vaguely at his pants. “Commando can’t be comfortable in those jeans.”

He shrugged. “I haven’t gotten around to doing the laundry yet this week,” he said.

“How do you survive?” I asked. “You have to at least do a load of underwear every week, Dieter.”

“I hate doing laundry,” he whined.

“That explains why you wear the same old shirt three days in a row,” I said, picking his dirty shirt from yesterday up off the floor with my thumb and forefinger, holding it out like it was something disgusting. “Where is your dirty laundry hiding?”

He showed me the hamper hidden behind the bedroom door. It was overflowing. I sighed. “Okay, I cleaned up your phone, now I’m going to show you my technique for laundry.”

I went into his laundry room, found the basket and brought it back to the bedroom. “Don’t bother to separate lights from darks, unless you have something brand new that might bleed dye,” I told him. “Just dump it all in together to save time.” I filled the basket with a medium sized load and handed it to him, then led him back to the laundry room.

“Okay, throw the clothes in the washer, fill up the detergent tray, set it on cold water, and press START,” I said. “Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.” I patted him on the butt and led him into the living room. “Now the trick is, you read a book while the laundry is going. When the alarm goes off, you grab a new load out of the hamper, move the wet load into the dryer, load up the washer again and boom — you’re back to your book.”

I plopped on the couch and opened the book I’d left on the coffee table the night before. “Keep repeating until the laundry is all done.”

“What about folding?,” he said. “I hate folding.”

“Fold as you go,” I said. “When a load comes out of the dryer, fold it right away so nothing wrinkles, but wait until everything’s done before you put it away. Saves on trips back and forth to the bedroom.”

“If I buy you jewelry, will you do my laundry every week?,” he joked.

“No,” I said. “But I will do your laundry if you keep your phone decluttered.”

“Deal,” he said, shaking my hand.

*************************************************************

My summer break was coming to an end, and I was in denial. It happened every year. I’d start panicking about all the things I’d meant to get done and hadn’t. This year, I had an even better reason to dread the start of the school year. Once I was back at work, I wouldn’t be able to drop everything and drive into L.A. to hang out with Dieter on a whim. And our late night phone calls would have to end. I was up early to get to work by 7:00 am every day and I needed to be in bed by 10:00 pm at the absolute latest.

”Five fucking thirty?” Dieter asked, grimacing.

“Yep,” I said. “Every day. But don’t you have to get up early for makeup and wardrobe and stuff like that when you’re on set?”

”Yeah, but I don’t have to really be awake,” he said, stretching one arm around my shoulders to pull me closer. “Mostly I just shuffle out to the car and they dump me at the makeup trailer. I think it’s actually easier for them if we’re half conscious. Like working on a giant Ken doll.”

I knew how grumpy and taciturn he could be in the morning, so I believed him. “Well, I have to be awake,” I said. “Up, dressed, hair and makeup done, breakfast eaten and on campus ready to unlock the doors at 7:15.”

”Barbaric,” Dieter said, shaking his head before kissing my temple. “What teenager would be at school that early, anyway?”

”The ones who get dropped off by their parents on the their way to work,” I said. “And the ones who have zero period classes.”

Dieter wrinkled his forehead. “Zero period? There’s something before first period?”

I nodded. “Yeah, mostly electives and credit recovery stuff. But I don’t want to talk about work.”

Dieter sighed. “Neither do I,” he said. “It’s going to suck big time when we can’t see each other as much. And if I have to hang up at ten o’clock every night. Half the time I’m not even home by then.”

“But we’ll have weekends,” I reminded him.

He wrapped his other arm around me. “Unless I’m out of town.” He kissed my cheek. “I wish you could just quit your job and hang out with me,” he pouted, nuzzling against my throat.

”I told you, I can’t quit,” I said. “I only have a few more years until I’m vested in my pension.”

”I’ve got plenty of money,” he said.

”And we’ve been together less than two months,” I reminded him. “If we were in our twenties, then I’d have time to find something new if we don’t work out, but I’ve got to think about retirement. I’m so close. I need to hang onto this job.”

Dieter sat back. “Only two months?,” he said. “Feels like I’ve known you forever.” He gently kissed my lips.

”I know,” I replied as soon as my mouth was free to form words.

He pulled back, a slight frown on his lips. “Do you really expect this to not work out?”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m pragmatic,” I said carefully. “I know that the odds of any relationship lasting forever are pretty low. Which is not to say that I don’t think we can make it work, Deet. I do think we can, I just … I don’t want to get ahead of myself. I don’t want to jump in to something with both feet and then find out I’m stranded miles from shore all by myself.”

”I would never leave you stranded,” he said. His eyes were steady as he held my gaze. “I promise you that. I have fucked up a lot of things in my life, but this is not one of them. You ever need anything — money, a place to crash, anything — you’ve got it.” He bit at his lower lip. “I’ll put it in writing if you need me to. Have a lawyer draw up a contract.”

”Dieter, are you crazy?” I sat back. “This is not a business transaction. This is a relationship.”

He ran his hands through his hair. “I know, I just … shit, I’m fucking this up. Look, people sign prenups all the time. You know, in case they get divorced, they don’t have to argue over who gets what. I’m just thinking … something like that, but for living together.”

”Okay, I get it. But it’s only been two months, Deet. You’re jumping the gun. I’m not going to quit my job and move to L.A. just like that. Things have been amazing between us so far, but there’s going to be some bumps in the road. That’s life.”

It felt like he wanted to say something more, but he held his tongue. After a long moment, he nodded. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right, Em. That’s life.” His eyes were haunted. “But that’s the future. Let’s live in the now, okay?” He gave me that lopsided grin that always melted my heart.

”Sounds good to me,” I replied. I kissed him and before long, neither of us was thinking about anything besides each other.

[brightlight-dazzlingeyes]

the french exit | chapter 02

kylian mbappé x original female character [+18]

synopsis: alice is a lonely rich girl whose biggest fear is to become a lonely rich woman. ever since they moved to paris, her fiancé doesn’t seem to be interested in her anymore. so alice decides to find comfort in the arms of another man. warnings: cheating; angst; smut; i have never been to france; minors dni.

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Chapter 02 | Old Money

“My mother's glamour lives on and on

Yet still inside, I felt alone

For reasons unknown to me”

“You smoke?”

They’re in Kylian’s bed, after sex, and Alice opens her purse looking for her phone. Discretely peeking its content, Kylian notices a pack of cigars.

“Only when I can’t help it.” Alice chuckles. Groaning, she throws the phone back on her bag, after noticing the time. She’ll be late to dinner. She suddenly gets up, quickly gathering her clothes and trying to fix herself. Alice takes another look at the naked man lying in bed. He smirks and she almost forgets she has to leave.

After their first time together, Alice tried to be good and behave. She tried to pay for her sins by being a good bride. Her afternoons were filled with long conversations with her mother and friends; about flowers, cakes and gifts. She was understanding when David said he wasn't interested in making any of these decisions.

“As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.” It 's what he said.

She got busy with work and occupied her mind with upcoming fashion shows and photoshoots. But by the end of the week she still felt incredibly lonely and unsatisfied with her life. David was spending the weekend in Nice, for work, of course. So she did what a good bride would do and invited her friends for dinner. Somehow, along the way of trying so hard to be good, she lost herself. She found herself once again in Kylian’s arms, in his bed, with his lips between her tights.

“Come here. Give me a goodbye kiss.” His voice was rough, he was almost asleep but still managed to look lewd. Alice was scared of kissing him again and never making out the door. Instead, she blew him a kiss and waved goodbye. Kylian turned to his side and went to sleep.

The restaurant was quite popular in Alice’s social group. The young chef leading the kitchen is in the middle of his 20’s and already has a Michelin star – so she has been dying to eat here ever since arriving in Paris. The place was modern, elegant and served ‘reinvented’ French cuisine. It was interesting and tasteful enough to keep the guests entertained with the ambience alone. The food tastes heavenly, with complex flavors and a beautiful presentation; there’s nothing else in Alice’s mind after the first bite.

“This place is amazing, right?” Clara asks. She’s one of the friends Alice made in Paris; she works in a fashion maison and they both have around the same age and appearance. She’s practically Alice’s French doppelganger. 

“I feel like I’m in heaven.” Alice answers, agreeing. After they’re served the wine, the girls cheer in celebration of their friendship and gracefully take a sip of the Cabernet Sauvignon.

“I’m coordinating the marketing campaign for Dior and it’s been hectic as hell.” Lili, the other woman at the table, said. The trio were already having dessert by the time they brought up their work.

“Ugh, don't even get me started. I'm so swamped with work right now.” Clara brings her finger to her nose bridge, making a worried expression.

Dinner went smoothly like that. No conversations about decaying engagement or illicit affairs. After kissing their cheeks goodbye and calling an Uber, Alice was back in Kylian’s apartment building, considering whether she should go up or walk back. It was late at night and she never stayed after sex. But the other option was going back to her empty home. It didn’t take long for her to decide, while checking her phone for the time she got a new notification pop up.

k.mbappe  that’s a great restaurant good choice

He was once again referring to her most recent post. It was her and girlfriends – secretly, still in his bed, Kylian was relieved to see she left him like that to be with her friends, and not her fiancé.

alicemwebber if i told you i was outside your building right now what would you say?

k.mbappe  i would say baby, come back to bed

She followed his order, undressing for him once again that night. With the excuse of being cold, they cuddled under the covers. Limbs entangled, his arms around her, her legs around him. In the morning, Alice woke up with soft kisses all over her face.

“You smell so good.” Kylian’s morning voice gave her goosebumps.

“I smell like you.” Alice answered giggling. She opened her eyes to see him staring at her, admiring her. She blushed. He was lying on top of her, kissing her neck. She could feel he was hard, with only a silk bed sheet separating their naked bodies.

“I want to fuck you on the living room.” He lowered the sheet, kissing her breasts. “And the kitchen.” Another kiss. “And on top of the pool table.”

“Pick one.” Alice raised her index finger and Kylian playfully bit it. He carried her to the other side of the apartment, where what was supposed to be the game room was. There was only a pool table, though. And the two of them, completely nude, lying against it. Kylian manhandled her, placing her standing facing the table and putting both of her hands on top of it. Then, with his hand on her back, he guided her to half lay down. With his feet, he separated her legs and placed himself behind her. 

“Spit.” Kylian showed her his hand and she obeyed, happily. He used the hand to rub her clit, surprising himself when he noticed how wet she was already. “You’re dripping, baby. Why didn’t you say so?” He pushed himself inside of her. “I would have been fucking you already. I would have carried you here with my cock inside of you.”

Alice moaned, almost screaming. He felt way too good and knew exactly what to say to leave her a mumbling mess. They were both still half asleep, carelessly pushing their bodies into the other, chasing their own pleasures. It didn't take long for them to reach their climax. After coming down from the high, Kylian turned her to face him.

“I have practice, so I need to go.” He gave her a soft peck on the lips. “But you can stay for as long as you like.” 

They had breakfast together and she only went home on Sunday night. Back to David. She spent another week Facetiming her wedding planners in Greece. Another week of shopping at the Golden Triangle and dining at Le Marais. On Wednesday Alice had a business lunch at La Terrasse Montaigne; she was accompanied by her friend Clara, her boss Margot, and their very important client Mr Lavigne.

“So you’re Caroline Fischer daughter?” Mr Lavigne owned a few famous fashion houses in Europe. His family has been in the fashion industry for generations, even though they never met, Alice knew exactly who he was. There was an immediate understanding between the two of them – unlike Clara and Margot, they had an inherited right to sit at that table.

“Yes, I am. She’ll be so excited to hear I’m working with you.” Alice’s connections are what got her the job in the first place and it’s why she’s earned a place at the meeting. Margot needed Mr Lavigne to feel comfortable.

“I was actually at a Morgan-Webber Foundation charity dinner a few years ago, your entire family– they’re lovely people! So inspiring to see what they’re doing for those poor American children.”

“Yes, I know! I only started going to those quite recently. I was painfully shy as a kid.”

“I’m glad you lost that habit.”

They smiled and Alice noticed Margot subtly nodding at her, in approvement. They drank Champagne and by the time the work subject came up, Mr Lavigne was too distracted to be upset about any of Margot’s requests. Her boss was pleasantly surprised, those conversations were never that easy. She kept a mental note on the importance of having a beautiful American young woman by her side at times of need.

At home, Alice had a surprise: her fiancé was home early. He was sitting on the couch watching the PSG game on TV, beer in his hand, still wearing his suit – his tie was lost somewhere on the living room floor.

“Well, hello handsome.” Alice smiled brightly, throwing herself at his arms. “Bad day at the office?”

David nodded, groaning. He took another sip of his beer, then pointed to the TV.

“I thought about relaxing watching the game, and now they’re losing.”

“Not your lucky day, I guess.” Alice giggles and David can’t help smiling at her, finally finding time to admire her beauty.

“You’re so pretty, love. You should be a model.” He says, kissing her. Alice laughs, raising her eyebrows.

“You think so?” She asks, teasingly.

“I’m calling Vogue right now.”

“Oh look what I got.” Alice shows him what it looks like an invitation. In white and gold, an expensive paper envelope. “Do you know Mr Lavigne?”

“If I know him? I’ve been trying to work with him for months!” David sits up, grabbing the envelope from her hand.

“Well, I met him today. We’re promoting one of his brands in the magazine. He invited me to his Foundation charity event. What do you think?”

“This is incredible. What an opportunity! Baby. You’re the best.”

David is smiling brightly and doesn’t seem to notice Alice's hesitation as they continue to kiss. He never calls her ‘baby’. He always called her ‘love’. She tries to push Kylian off her mind. At that moment she decides she’s not going to see the football player again. Alice never liked gambling and she especially didn’t like the odds of this situation. There’s no way for her to win if she continues on that path.

"Let 's make love.” David is gentle with her. “I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too.” She says, almost in a prayer. “So much.”

***

“You should get a pet.” Her mother says over the phone. “A cat! So French!” That’s her answer to Alice’s complaint about feeling lonely. “You’re in one of the busiest cities on the planet, Alice. I’m sure you can find something to keep you entertained.”

Alice decided to allow herself to spend one day as a proper American tourist. She visited the Louvre – a place she hadn't been to since she was a child, with her mother dragging her, trying at all costs to turn her into a cultured woman. In some ways Caroline succeeded. Alice spoke three different languages and could carry out a conversation about any topic one could throw at her. She was smart, funny, and obviously beautiful. But she wasn’t creative. And staring at all the incredible art at the museum she realized that she could never forgive her mother for that. Caroline kept the creativity genes to herself. She never taught Alice how to think for herself. How to express herself. And now the girl couldn’t even talk to her own future husband.

***

David was sitting in his home office, eyebrows furrowed, paying close attention to his laptop. It was supposed to be his day off, so they agreed on having dinner and watching a movie together.

“David…” Alice sounded like a lost kitten.

“What?” Her fiancé didn’t look up, eyes locked on his work.

“I love you.”

“Not now, Alice. I'm busy.”

That's all the answer she needed to send Kylian a nude photo of her, one she took thinking about him, a few nights before. It was taken after she saw pictures of him with another woman, they were all over social media. She was trying to prove a point, but ended up giving up. It was sitting in her gallery just waiting for the perfect moment.

k.mbappe  fuck me

alicemwebber i will

k.mbappe  now come over now lie to him and come fuck me

She obeyed him once again. It wasn’t too hard to come up with a lie, David would be relieved no matter what; no longer having the obligation to spend the night home. Something about Clara needing her and he was almost out of the door before Alice. But he kept his dignity and waited for his bride to leave first, following suit to pursue his own happiness in the bright Parisian night.

...

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[phykios]

If I Were A Blackbird, part 12 [co-written with @darkmagyk] [read on ao3]

His Majesty King Frederick III of Sweden, dispensing entirely with etiquette, noisily slurped up a noodle, and then picked out a bit of chicken with his fork, before grasping it between his fingers and popping it in his mouth. “Mm,” he hummed. “Delicious. Nothing like a classic American alfredo.” 

Annabeth, Crown Princess and Duchess of Södermanland, pushed her pasta around the plate, stomach too tight to eat. 

Over the last few years, dinner with her father had become less and less of a frightening affair. Which was ironic, because in that time he’d gone from being a regular old prince, to the King. With all the divine power and magical rituals that went along with it. 

It helped that the Princess Consort rarely joined them anymore, a decision Annabeth was pretty sure traced to the fact that she was the Princess Consort, and not the Queen. And dinners that had once felt like they took place between Princess Annabeth and Prince Frederick now feel more like they are just between Annabeth and her dad. 

She liked that. 

But it didn’t stop her from stress-knitting a sweater for Percie on her flight all morning and afternoon after being informed via calendar notification that she had been invited to dinner with the king upon her arrival back home. 

The sweater was dark blue and had the Olympic rings, matching the one she had knitted for her dog’s namesake. And also the one she was making for herself. 

“Guido really outdid himself with dinner tonight,” he said, dabbing at his face with a napkin, “but it still isn’t as good as the donut you brought me from New York.” He grinned at her. “We really do need to get them to build a Dunkin here.”

She couldn’t help but grin back. “Maybe that will be my first act as queen.”

He laughed. “A good use of your divine rights, but I am not sure I want to wait that long. Do you think I would be able to get a Dunkaccino in Fólkvangr?”

“Well you certainly seem sure of your future.”

“One must be prepared to dream big,” he said, “particularly when one is a king.” 

“An iced coffee and a warrior's death,” she laughed. “What more could a king ask for?”

His smile dropped, face hardening, and the very air seemed to grow… uncomfortable. He considered her, and carefully put down his fork. “Perhaps nothing more a king could want. But… as a father…” 

A chill went down her spine. Oh gods. Oh no. Anything but this. 

And neither, apparently, was her dad, who was suddenly very interested in the embroidery on his napkin. “...Is Percy ready for Athens?” 

Fuck fuck fuck fuck. This was what he was playing at? “Yeah, just a few more weeks. He’s excited.” 

“Any chance he’s going to stop by here, on his way?”

“Um, no, he’s got his normal ritual at home, and then he’s heading over with team USA.” She frowned. “Why?”

“Well,” he said, with a significant look, “it will have been four years, at the Olympics, won’t it? And I was wondering when we were going to be seeing him on a more… permanent basis.” 

That brought her up a little short. Percy was around for almost all major holidays now, unless it conflicted with a race. And even then, sometimes he skipped them. What could he possibly want Percy to come back to Sweden for? He’d been here a month for National Day and Midsummer, and the two of them seemed to be getting on fine. 

And as for permanent… he’d more or less abandoned Luke’s apartment in New York City as anything more than a pretense. It was still on his driver's license, but she was pretty sure none of his stuff was there anymore. Two weeks ago, when he’d been in New York for a Good Morning America appearance, he’d stayed over at hers, despite her still being in Sweden at the time. And that wasn’t a rare occurrence. He’d been calling it their apartment for about a year now, and he didn’t even look sheepish about it anymore. 

Percy was a permanent fixture in her life. She was determined to make it so. “It feels pretty permanent to me,” she said, quietly. 

He looked at her, and she looked back, for several long, long seconds, before he sighed and looked away. “Are you really going to demand I say it, dear?”

She sucked in a breath. And here it was. The other shoe, come to drop in between her and Percy. And he had seemed so perfect on paper: he loved her, he was getting good enough at Swedish that he didn’t ask her to translate anything at official dinners anymore, he looked great in a suit by her side, he could smile and wave with the best of them, and he seemed okay with the prospect of that being the rest of his life. So, what problem had been dug up? What was going to prevent Princess Annabeth from being with her prince charming?

“Say what?” If he had a problem with her choice of partner, if he had spent years getting buddy buddy with her, only to crush her dreams worse than before, then he had damn well better spell it out to her face. 

He had to know that Percy was it for her. He wasn’t that oblivious. So, it was all coming back around. He’d asked her, four of five years ago, if she intended to abdicate for true love. He was calling that marker in now. 

He was going to make her choose between Percy and her crown. 

No, worse, he was going to make her choose between Percy and letting her stepmother win. 

“When are you and Percy getting married?” 

And there it was. The ultimatum.

“Well…” Wait. “What?” 

He shrugged again, a touch self-conscious. “Well, dear, you are almost thirty, and while you are certainly young, I know you’ve talked about your plans for your future. And your… desire to secure succession for your descendants.” She felt herself go red at that statement. Though it wasn’t untrue, clearly. “I was just wondering if… now might be the proper time.” 

Well, that wasn’t the other shoe, that was a whole damn Louboutin store. “You want me to make Percy my consort?”

He frowned. “I thought you wanted to make Percy your consort.” 

“I do,” she said, “I do.” By all the gods, Greek and Norse and whatever the hell else there might be out there, did she want to.

“Well then, of course I want you to marry him. I like Percy. You know that.” Which she did. It wasn’t like he had hidden it. “And more than that, I know you love him. And he loves you, and what’s more, accepts you. Accepts all the wonderful parts of you.”

Oh, so that was the other shoe. She couldn’t even properly appreciate her father’s explicit and enthusiastic support of Percy, of her choices, of what she wanted to happen more than anything in the world. 

She groaned and put her head in her hands. 

“Dear, what’s wrong?”

“He hasn’t,” she mumbled into her palms. 

“What?”

“He hasn’t accepted all the parts of me.”

“Oh.” It was silent for a long moment, save for her father fiddling with his napkin. “That’s… Are you sure, dear?”

She looked up. “Huh?”

“Well, I only ask because he’s been such a good sport at dinners. And he was absolutely wonderful during the funeral and the coronation and with everything. I… is he really not on board with royal life?”

“No, no, he’s–we’ve talked about that. Quite a lot. He’s a better sport about,” she waved a hand, “all of that than I deserve.” 

That part was fine. It was just everything else that was the problem. 

“You deserve everything, dear,” her father said without a second's hesitation. “He is, as you say, a good sport, but I do not for a second think that he would be if it wasn’t for you. Trust me when I say, I know the difference between someone who loves the prince versus someone who loves the man. Percy loves you. I promise you dear. I promise you he does.” He took her hand across the table. “Nearly as much as I do.”  

And wasn’t that something. She could stop the feel of tears pooling in her eyes. Her father was staring at her, earnestness plain on his face. She had thought, not two minutes ago, that he meant to separate her from Percy, and he was proclaiming Percy’s love for her. 

Her father, her dad, the King of Sweden, wanted her to be happy and loved and the Queen. And he wanted her to marry Percy Jackson to make it happen. She blinked back the tears as best she could. 

It was not a totally successful endeavor. 

“I haven’t told Percy,” she said, finally, her voice barely more than a whisper. And, she realized a second later, not in Swedish. Or English. Nor her grade school French. She was speaking in ancient Greek. Wasn’t she lucky that Perseus’ name fit so well in this cursed language. “I haven’t told him about my mother, or about our ancestry, or any of it.” 

“I see,” her father said, his Greek not as natural as her, but clear and precise from many years of practice. “Well, do you think that will be a problem?”

“Of course it will be a problem. I have to tell him the gods are real. Like, the Greek gods. And the Norse gods!” 

He waved a hand. “He’s a classicist, I am sure he’s got passing familiarity with it. It isn’t as though you’ll need to worry about him not having paid attention to that lesson in school. I’m sure it will go fine.” 

“You really think so?” she asked, and for a split second, it was like she was back in that diner in California. Trusting her father to soothe her fears, and make it all better. 

He took a moment to gather his thoughts, squeezing her hand. “I think… I think he loves you, and that, to be honest, a royal life is a much bigger burden for him to have to deal with than marrying a demigod. It isn’t as though hydras will be attacking him during his calc finals. I do believe your mother to be far more formidable than the Riksdag, and significantly more beautiful,” he couldn’t help but add, and Annabeth chuckled. “But she could have no objection to Percy, nor your marriage, compared to any other mortal man. But the Riksdag will always want to butt in. He has put up with much worse than your mother. Or our Frey ancestors. And I believe he has shown he will continue to do so. This, all of this, is just a matter of belief. Nothing Percy has said has suggested to me that he’s particularly religious, anyway.” 

“No,” Annabeth conceded, “No, he’s not.” 

“So, I am sure–I am positive–that all will be well.” 

She swallowed a few times, just a little afraid to speak the hope in her chest. To give life to the little hearth in her heart. “I… I think he’ll be alright with it. If I can get him to believe. I think he’ll be able to accept it. To accept me.” 

Her father beamed at her. “And when are you going to tell him?”

“Soon,” she said. “I was thinking maybe in Athens, since we’ll be there together.” 

Her father let out a laugh. “Has this always been your plan?”

“Maybe not always,” she chuckled, “but… I have been thinking about it for a while. A couple of months, at least.” Or maybe a couple of years. “He really wants to get a gold in the Olympics. And this year, he’s the favorite.” 

“There is a long history of royalty competing in the Olympics, all over Europe. I think he could continue, if he doesn’t manage it this time. Though I am told his odds are very good.” 

She smiled at him. It was such a thoughtful thing to say. “He wants to win for team USA,” she said, “and I can’t really begrudge him that if he turns around and immediately devotes his life to Sweden, now can?” 

Her father laughed again. “I suppose not.” 

Her eyes still a little blurry, in her mind she conjured up the wonderful image of him and her in her–their–New York apartment, Percy smiling at her over their kitchen table, and her entire body was seized with a sudden, painful need. “I really, really want to marry him, Dad,” she whispered. 

“I know, dear.” 

“And after we get married, he’s going to be part of this–this machine. So I just have to be honest with him. And let him accomplish as many of his goals as I can.”

“So,” he said. “Athens, then.” 

“Yes.” 

“And you think he’ll propose after that?” 

That would be nice. “I don’t know if he’ll think it's alright, though.”

“Well,” he grinned, a little sheepish, “I may have, ah… cornered him a few months ago and informed him that it would be, so I don’t see why he wouldn’t.” 

“Dad!” She felt the blush coat her cheeks. 

“Honestly, you’ve given me some insight into what was taking him so long. But I do understand his desire to go for gold,” he said, stroking his chin. “If my father, or even Randolph, had prevented me from getting my PhD, or from pursuing some scholarship for a bit, well… I would be very cross indeed.” 

“He deserves it.” 

“He does,” he agreed. “Just as you deserve all those buildings in New York with your name on them.” 

And that’s what did it. She felt the tears fall out of her eyes. 

“I’m going to tell him,” she said, voice thick. “After he wins a gold medal, I’m going to tell him all about it.” 

“Or perhaps,” her father replied, with a sparkle in his eye, “you should tell him before, go up to the Parthenon, tell him about it, and help him pray to Athena and Nike for victory.” 

That… was not a bad idea. Perhaps the ritual nature of it would ease him into the idea. And he was, like her dad said, a classicist. He’d want to see the Parthenon. And she could get him VIP access. Maybe even private access, if she asked the right person. “And Poseidon, too, I think. He is sailing, after all.” Hopefully the lord of the ocean hadn’t heard all the shade Percy had been throwing his way recently. Of if he had, hopefully a sacrifice would soothe his ego.  

“And then, we can finally get through all the paperwork.” 

Annabeth blinked. “What paperwork?”

“All the paperwork I had drawn up to get your marriage approved,” he said. 

“Oh,” she grimaced.

“Sadly, other people will want to hear of it, too. But I promise, it is all just a formality. Just tell me when, and I’ll turn the crown Princess into the Crown Princess couple.” 

“You really think it will be alright?”

“I’m the king,” said her father, taking a sip of his beer. “Haven’t you heard? What I say, goes.” 

***

Luke whistled. “Dang.”

“So, you approve?”

“Dude, I don’t think anyone wouldn’t approve.” Luke said, holding the ring up for a better look. The large diamond at the center, square cut and aquamarine blue, perfectly reflected the light, casting glittering refractions all over his fingers. It was surrounded by diamonds so old that they’d been cut before that technology existed. They were framed by pearls, all natural, all saltwater, all perfect, and the shining platinum band which held them all was fit for a princess. Percy hoped.

“Great,” Percy said, “because I need you to create a paper trail that makes it look like I got this ring legally.”

Luke raised an eyebrow, clearly suppressing a grin that Percy knew would only be one of approval. “Did you not?”

“The diamonds came from wrecks that I scavenged. I had to take Hazel with me to make sure I’d gotten the right ones. It's basically looting.” He’d spent the last three years collecting these pearls. It was grueling work, but it was worth it. It was so worth it. 

“Hazel didn’t do the actual jewelry work, did she?” Luke asked, concerned. 

Percy shook his head. She normally wasn’t super comfortable with that, what with her propensity for accidental curses, and Percy would never have made her do that if she didn’t want to. “No, she wouldn’t even call the stuff in the ocean, she'd point it out, and then I’d have to go through rotting wood and rusted metal to get them. Tyson made it for me. And sourced the platinum.” And also designed it for him, with a little help from his harpy girlfriend. Tyson had blushed when he told Percy about it. “But she’s a princess. Some magazine or newspaper–not to mention all of the Internet–is going to want details about where they came from, and I need to explain it without using words like ‘magic’ and ‘Poseidon.’”

Luke turned the ring over, inspecting the underside of the gems. “I thought you were going to tell Annabeth before your proposal.”

He nodded. “I am, in Athens. But I’m not planning on announcing it to the world.”

“I don’t know, that might be kind of funny.”

“I feel like they’d take away my medals if I tell them I can control my boat with my mind. And the ocean, too.” Percy said, “And I would always take you down with me in that situation.”

Luke let his grin out, savage and unrepentant. “Fair. So, you need a place for it to have come from. I can make it look above board. Any other requests?”

“Could you not make it a blood diamond thing? I would love not to imply that.”

“Just looting, then?” he asked, handing the ring back.

Percy made a face, even as he carefully placed it back inside the velvet box. “Look, looting from ships that sank centuries ago for a few gems that would otherwise be lost, so my princess girlfriend can have an engagement ring worthy of her, is reasonable, I think. Over a century of controlling diamond markets, and using it to exploit colonialist populations is not. Having said that, though… Please don’t say I looted anything.”

“I'll see what I can do.”

“Thank you,” he sighed, with relief. And more than a little excitement. After months–years–of planning, it was almost time. He knew he wanted to marry her one normal Tuesday afternoon, as they sat together at Annabeth’s–their–kitchen table, laughing over something silly. Whenever he got cold feet, or felt like the royal life might be too much to handle, he cast his mind back to that beautiful, quiet moment, and reminded himself: no matter how weird and fucky it got, it was worth it. She was worth it all. 

“Anything for you cuz. And that princess.” He smiled, crooked and pleased. “Have you decided how you’re going to do it yet?”

“Not sure yet,” Percy admitted. “I’ve been a little preoccupied.”

“Your race?” 

“Oh, yeah, with that too.” 

Luke frowned. “That’s not what’s been preoccupying you?”

“I mean… it hasn’t… not been preoccupying me,” he said. “But… I’ve been distracted.” 

“With what?”

Percy sighed, sinking into the couch. “You said it. I have to tell her before I can propose to her.” 

Frowning with sympathy, Luke settled down next to him, crossing his arms. “You really think it's going to be a big deal?”

“Of course it's going to be a big deal. You think it won’t be a big deal?”

“No, just go up to her and say ‘the gods are real, like the greek gods, like the ones you learned about but weren't paying attention to.” 

“She likes mythology, she was probably paying attention.” 

“Well, it will be like when I explained things to your mom.” 

Percy snorted. “My mom was hired by Hermes. She knew about my dad. She knew all about everything. She didn’t need some nine year old loser giving her a Greek mythology tutorial.”

“Yeah, well this nine year old loser saved your life.” 

“Tell that to the snakes I strangled at age two.” 

Luke reached over and ruffled Percy’s hair. “Big three braggart.” 

“And proud of it.” 

It was weird being over here. He hadn’t stayed with Luke in New York for a year. Without meaning to, Annabeth’s apartment became home base. The doorman and housekeeper recognized him. He’d had to pack a bag to come over this weekend. But Luke had just short of begged him, saying that it was probably the last time they could do it. 

And frankly, Percy kind of hoped he was right.

“I wasn’t talking about the snakes,” Luke said. 

“No?”

“No, I was talking about our quest.”

Technically speaking, he and Luke had been on half a dozen little quests. But he could only be talking about one. “You did save me from Ladon,” said Percy, probably a little too nostalgic for a near-death experience. 

“I did,” Luke agreed, “on a quest you weren’t even supposed to be on.”

“Come on, you know you wanted me there.”

“Oh yeah, a ten year old hanger on was exactly what I wanted on my deadly quest.”

‘Stowaway’ might have been a more appropriate term, since Percy had hidden in the back seat of Luke’s car and only revealed himself once they had gotten past the George Washington Bridge. Luke, surprised, angry, and having missed the turn to detour North to the Tappan Zee bridge to take Percy back, begrudgingly decided that Percy could stay. Though he did make Percy call his mom and explain where he had gone.  

“What’s gotten you so nostalgic?” Percy asked. 

Pursing his lips, Luke was silent for a little while, determinedly staring up at the ceiling. “Can I be honest?” he said, eventually. 

“I don’t know, big ask for a son of Hermes.” He was expecting the throw pillow to the face, and he caught it.

“Asshole.”

“Yeah, but you love me anyway. So for real, what’s up?”

“I think it’s the whole Athens thing,” said Luke, quietly. 

“The Olympics?”

“No. It’s more the where than the what. We’re going to the motherland.”

Percy paused and considered him. “I think it’s more the fatherland, for us.”

“Be serious.”

“I can‘t. If I am serious, I have to think about it. And then I get freaked out.” 

Luke frowned at him. “What are you freaked out about?”

“Take your pick: the ancient sea, deadly monsters, Zeus being upset at me on the way, not getting gold, Annabeth realizing that she’s too good for a crazy moron like me. I can go on.”

But Luke was undeterred. “Hey–you can kill a lousy monster and control the lousy ocean. Zeus knows the Olympics are for him, and we’re gonna burn a sacrifice and everything, I already have the AirBNB with the fire pit and grill booked.” He paused, took a deep breath, and clapped Percy in the shoulder, but he didn’t move his hand when he was done. “You could win this race with your eyes closed and hands tied behind your back. But that isn’t what you want. And so, you’re going to put your whole heart into it. And also your body. And it will probably go great, but–”

“It didn’t last time.” 

Luke narrowed his eyes, and then used the hand resting on Percy’s shoulder, brought it up and cuffed the side of his head.

“Ow!” 

“Dude, you know the world is full of Olympians who lost at the last second. And settled for silver. Or bronze. You also know that you have the power to make it so that doesn’t happen to you. You chose not to use that power last time.”

Rubbing his head, Percy pouted. “You think I should have cheated.” 

“I think that, given that you only failed to win last time because of supernatural interference, it isn’t really cheating.”

“No?”

“No! Look,” he said, the fire in his eyes blazing with the same kind of righteous indignation he had at sixteen, but without the sickly poison of almost giving himself over to a Titan, “our parents fuck us over. It’s like, their whole thing. They fuck over our mothers, then they fuck over us. But at the very least, they try to make up for it. It isn’t like some stupid fantasy movie where we aren’t allowed to use our powers for ourselves, or let mortals catch on. Mortals don’t notice, and we get to use our powers to balance the scales.” 

Percy raised an eyebrow. “You really think that’s how it works?”

“Sure. What, do you think that a child of Athena is cheating on a test by being really smart?” 

“...Probably not.” 

“Well, it's basically the same thing.”

“So you want me to cheat.” 

Luke shook his head. “No. I want you to forgive yourself if something goes wrong, if another monster attacks. And you choose to intervene, like I know you will, and you choose not to bring your full powers to bear. If you choose not to go for gold, know it is a choice you’re making. And it's okay.” 

That… helped. Something in Percy’s chest unwound a little. “There's always next time, is that it?”

“Not at all,” Luke said with a grin, “because come Tartarus or high water, you’re marrying your princess when this is over.” 

And that brought everything crashing back. “But what if she’s not okay about the demigod stuff?”

“The whole point of monarchy is ‘my bloodline is super special.’ Of course she’ll be cool about it.” 

“And if she is cool with the demigod shit, but says no when I propose?”

Luke stared at him, dumbfounded. “Are you serious?” 

“What?”

“That might be the dumbest thing you’ve ever said in your life.”

“Hey!”

“She is obsessed with you. And in love with you. She has brought you to state dinners. You’ve waved at coronations. Of course she’ll say yes.” 

“Only the one coronation.” Percy felt the need to point out. 

Luke kicked him in the shin. He did not hold back.

[midnightsunnyday]

Say It With Your Chest *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

➼ parings: Barbatos & Black Fem!OC, Diavolo/Black Fem!OC, implied Lucifer/Black Fem!OC ➼ content warnings: none, yet read at your own discretion. ➼ summary: there's something about the new exchange student, Vivica, that Barbatos doesn't like. Diavolo is clearly smitten, and for the sake of his lord, Barbatos tries his best to keep said discrepancies hidden until he can't. Fortunately, the feeling is mutual.

(Chapter One)

[Barbatos]: I believe the Young Master is unwell.

Such admissions embarrassed Barbatos. It was unlike him to miss the finer details of things.  

He knew that the reason Mammon had taken interest in the castle’s art gallery was to steal from it. Again.

He knew that despite playing it off as a new fashion statement, Asmodeus was hiding an unsightly rash he procured overnight with a scarf.

He knew of Satan, who was not in fact, studying for his midterms in the library every afternoon, but sneaking off to the local curse and hexes shop.

Yet the recent behavior exhibited by the young lord was increasingly concerning, even more so while out in public. And what's worse, he could not--for the life of him--understand why.

Naturally, Lucifer's response was prompt.

[Lucfier]: That's rare. What symptoms is he showing?

Where to begin? It started with the random bouts of losing focus. The unmitigated time of staring off into the distance, sighing.

[Barbatos]: that and he has a habit of turning red.

The notification bell chimed.

[Lucifer]: you mean more than the usual amount?

Barbatos frowned. An odd response. Perhaps he hadn’t conveyed his concern strongly enough. Such are the mishaps when using such a confoundable device.

[Barbatos]: I'm assuming that was a joke, and on any other occasion I would have shared in your humor, yet I'm afraid this is much too serious to take lightly.

There. Much better.

[Lucifer]: My apologies. Do go on.

[Barbatos]: Besides the stated, he’s also been panicked, sweaty, and listless. Yet every time I attempt to delve further, he assures me nothing is wrong. 

[Barbatos]: If you have any insight as to…oh, I see you’re still typing your response. Pardon me.

The three blinking dots in the text field disappeared, then reappeared several times. Lucifer tended to text with using only his index finger, a habit that prolonged any written communications. An eternity must have gone by before he replied:  

[Lucifer]: I see. I may have an answer. However, you should know that what "ails" Diavolo is not something you or I can assist with.

[Lucifer]: Thankfully, it isn't fatal. Usually.

[Barbatos]: I must admit. Your habit of conveying your thoughts through crypticisms, while amusing, is only aiding in my frustration.

[Lucifer]: It’s simple really.

[Lucifer]: The next time you find him about, pay closer attention to where exactly his eyes falter.

[Lucifer]: There will lie your answer.

To where his eyes faltered. Just what exactly was the Young Master so preoccupied with that it would begin to interfere with his duties? Lucifer was being uncharacteristically unhelpful in his insights tonight, an issue he would not dwell on for long, yet would bring to his attention at another time. Until then…

[Barbatos]: Very well. I will do as you advised. Thank you. And goodnight.

Barbatos gazed at the screen of his D.D.D. a bit longer before placing it face down upon the nightstand. He supposed he’d have to rely on his own perception for now. He’d finished his duties ahead of schedule, and for once, would have a decent night’s rest before tomorrow's busy schedule.

In the calm darkness, Barbatos drifted along with his thoughts. Maybe he was finally losing his touch. A millennium wading through space and time would eventually cause anyone’s mind to slip occasionally. Maybe that’s why he found himself becoming fond of the sorcerer, Solomon. If any could attest to the weight of infinite knowledge and time, it would be him. For that, and much more, he’d earned the right to be called master, he’d earned his respect.

Though I’m uncertain the same could be said for the other human. Barbatos tried, for the sake of the Young Master, to rebuff such thoughts, yet they'd only grown louder over the past few months. Another issue he would have to deal with, yet again, another time.

For now, rest was needed.

********

It would be two days after their conversation when Barbatos would see Lucifer’s words in action. Per usual, there were duties to attend to at the castle, yet Barbatos didn’t need to be near the young prince to watch him. Though he was forbidden to use his powers to change or view the future, such prohibitions did not apply to the present. The young prince had taken his usual stroll through RAD, yet something was off. On occasion, he would stand in place, his head turning which way or the other, the corners of his mouth lifting, only to frown as if disappointed. His pupils dilating, sharpening, dilating, sharpening. It was clear he was searching for something. But what?

Finally, he halted. From the way his entire being brightened, it was clear the prince had found what he was searching for. There, sitting on a bench within the RAD courtyard, was the object of his master’s happiness.

Ah. So I see…

Thank goodness. So it wasn’t him losing his touch. The answer had been in front of him all along. Rather, the reality was so unremarkable that he failed to notice it. Now satisfied, Barbatos continued with his daily tasks.

The exchange student, Vivica. So she is the reason for your afflictions…

…Though he could not--for the life of him--understand why.

[brostateexam]

Yesterday, the power was out at my house for about eight hours due to a substation catching on fire. The entire portion of Oakland I live in was without power, actually.

At first it didn't bother me. We were supposed to finish painting the bedroom that afternoon anyhow, and you don't need power to do that, so we did it. Then, it was supposed to be over, but they extended at the last minute by another six hours. In the interest of Shane being able to attend class and do homework, we headed out in search of somewhere that had electricity.

Driving on major roads while every traffic light was out was a bit tense. Not because I don't know what to do when that happens (traffic light out = four-way stop, duh), but because a four way stop is a bit inadequate for when a six lane road crosses a four lane road. Especially in a city where something like 1 in 20 drivers think that there are no laws other than "if I'm going get out of the way."

Anyway, we ended up in Alameda. All three Starbucks' we tried were closed because Alameda had lost power, too, but they got restored hours before East Oakland did. Whether that's because they are a much richer + much whiter area or because they have their own independent power authority who was able to restore partial power to the grid, I'm not sure, but either way, this is how we ended up hanging out in a partially powered shopping center for four hours or so.

I'd been meaning to go clothes shopping, so I stopped by Kohl's and had to restrain myself from buying every instance of this one grey herringbone pattern that they made into loungewear. It looks like mental illness personified. It looks like i'm ready for a long flight or a lobotomy or a spa day. This + some grippy socks serves 72 hour hold realness.

More stuff about bodies and weight and post-surgery stuff under the cut.

I think I'm now a 36 in actual sizes and a 34 in flattering vanity sizes like Kohl's in-house brand and presumably Old Navy. I'm going to try to go down one more size before I start thinking about building a permanent wardrobe. Ideally, I'd go down two more sizes, but I'm starting to get to the point where smaller stuff is not going to fit on my body because of my shoulders and thighs. I think even if I could lose sixty more pounds (which is btw what it would take for my BMI to not be "overweight"), I don't know that it would look right. Who knows if that's even possible, though, let alone if it will happen.

I know that if I want to look how I want to look, I need to get to a gym and start exercising properly. Walks ain't cutting it any more. So far, the stumbling block is I can't find a gym I like. I've toured a Planet Fitness and a 24 Hour Fitness, and both of them were terrible. Next to no weight machines, no squat racks, abysmal free weight section. Like, what the fuck is the point?

Sorry, that was a digression.

We left the overpriced but lovely Thai restaurant we had dinner at because I got a notification on my phone that our power was back on. We're on the same block as a fire station, so they prioritize restoring our access. I'd been worried about this when I bought this place, but with the double-paned windows you basically can't hear the sirens, and with the blinds down, you can barely see them, either. And we are never chosen for brown-outs during the summer cause the firestation needs to be powered. That's gonna be helpful when we have air conditioning, I think.

[sommerflue-22]

SWIPE RIGHT | Armin Arlert x Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

One swipe to the right and you found yourself going on dates with Armin Arlert, loving how he treated you right. Who could possibly resist such a gentle and compassionate man? It's only a matter of time before he officially asked you to be his girlfriend...

Pairing(s): Armin Arlert x Fem!Reader

Warning: Arranged marriage, situasionship

Word count: 2.4k

Author note

Hi guys, thank you for the likes and follows. I really appreciate it! Make sure to follow me if you haven't, so you can find the next part of this fic (or other fics) easily! Here's part 3, lemme know if you like it! <3

“Earth to (Y/N), please?”

You pushed Hitch’s hand away from your face. “What?” You were annoyed because Hitch had been bothering you for the past few minutes as you typed an important email.

“It’s time for our lunch break. Come on, let’s go get some pho.”

You glanced at the clock on the wall, and surely it was ten minutes after one in the afternoon. You told Hitch to meet you in front of the store as you finished sending the email. With a new campaign coming up, it was quite a busy day in the jewelry store you worked at. As a result, you had to send a ton of emails before the day ended. 

You exchanged a few greetings with your coworkers. They had already taken their lunch break, so they would stay in the store. Hitch was impatient and dragged you out to the new pho restaurant, a few buildings away from the store.

While waiting in line to order, you checked your phone but there weren’t any text messages from Armin. You assumed he was preoccupied with the family business, since it was still the summer vacation. Of course, you missed him a lot. The last time you went on a date with him was around two weeks ago. 

“How’s Sasha, by the way?” Hitch asked. She mistook your frequent action of checking your phone’s notification as waiting for a message from Sasha.

“Oh, she’s doing really well. She just got promoted.” You slipped your phone in your back pocket.

“That’s great.”

The conversation died down as it was your time to order. You were surprised by the size of the portion, and not to mention how delicious it tasted. Overall, you and Hitch both thought that it was a good deal, and you both planned to come back the next day to try another menu.

Satisfied with your meal, you and Hitch returned to the store. You checked your phone one more time before going back in. Nothing. No text message. You sighed and pushed the front door open.

“Thank god you’re here, (Y/N).” One of your coworkers approached you. “I need the catalog for our designer collaboration series. Could you please bring it out? A customer wants to look at it, says they’re really interested in one of the designs.”

“Sure, I’ll bring it out soon.”

You dashed to your office in the back of the store and grabbed the most recent catalog. You also took a few brochures to give to the customer in case they were still looking. As soon as you got everything you needed, you immediately went back to the front store. Your coworker was chatting with the customer, a lady with a prominent jaw and nose structure. Beautiful, you thought to yourself.

“Hello, I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N), and I’m the marketing manager here.” You greeted her with a smile. “I believe you are interested in our most recent collaboration with a few designers.”

“Indeed,” the lady replied, “my fiancé and I are looking for wedding jewelry.”

“Oh, congratulations on your engagement. When will the wedding take place? Because we are currently out of a few designs. So, if you’re interested in one of those designs, I can certainly contact some people to get it back in stock.”

The lady scanned the catalog you gave her. “Not to worry, the wedding is still six months away.”

“We have plenty of time, then. May I interest you in these Luminous collections? The design is timeless and they are one of our most popular, best-selling collections—”

“Annie, dear, did you switch your phone back to silent mode? I swear I left you a couple of missed call—”

You froze as you saw the familiar blond man. Armin just walked in and sat down next to the lady, putting his arm around her waist. 

“I think so? I’m sorry, Armin.” The lady gave him a peck on the cheek, “Here, what do you think of these collections? Miss (Y/L/N) here said some of them are out of stock, but she might be able to help us out.”

You could see Armin’s shoulder tensed as he realized, for the very first time since he entered the store, that it was you. You never told him where you worked, so it came as a surprise to him. Armin couldn’t form any sentence and just stared at you as his fiancée told him about her thoughts on the collection.

You cleared your throat. “Yes, I believe this one will really compliment your eye color, Ma’am. I’d love to assist you further, but unfortunately I have a meeting in less than five minutes. Here’s my business card, please contact me at any time. For the time being, my colleague, Ms. Green, will gladly assist you.”

The lady, whose name was Annie, thanked you. You thanked her again and immediately left for your office. Hitch, with whom you shared the office, was sitting in front of her laptop when you walked in. She jumped in her seat when she heard you curse. Even on the worst of occasions, you rarely cursed. Hitch knew right away that there was something wrong.

“Whoa, what’s gotten into you, (Y/N)?” Hitch paused her typing. “Did you have to deal with another fussy, finicky customer?”

“No, I don’t want to talk about it right now, Hitch.” You gritted your teeth as you sat down, picking up your phone to text Sasha about what had happened.

“I was beyond shocked, our Miss (Y/L/N) cursed out of nowhere, in the middle of the day—”

“Shut—” you were about to yell at her, but you took a deep breath and quickly  regained your composure. “—up. Hitch, I am trying to focus on my work right now and you should too.”

Hitch knew not to disturb you and continued her typing. You opened up a document on your desktop that you didn’t really need to look through, as your phone buzzed with new messages from both Sasha and Armin.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You despised the smell of alcohol, but you knew you really needed a drink. After the unfortunate encounter, you informed your boss that you would be taking a three-day casual leave for the remainder of the week. Sasha blew a fuse when you told her about what happened during that day. She could tell how disappointed you were even if you didn’t really show it. That’s why she invited Jean, and even Connie, who drove all the way from another city, to cheer you up. They took you to one of your favorite bars downtown.

“What a lame git.” Jean scoffed, “I swear to god, if I ever meet him I will…” He punched the air with his right fist.

“No need to stoop that low, Jean.” You sighed and leaned back to your seat, eyes closed. “He doesn’t deserve your time or attention.”

Jean ruffled your hair and turned to face your other two friends, who were really, really tipsy. “At least they’re having fun.” Indeed, Sasha and Connie were having the time of their lives, laughing and singing along to the music, occasionally making insulting remarks  about your date. 

You downed all of your remaining cocktail before excusing yourself to the restroom. Jean offered to walk you there, but you told him you’d be fine. That was a lie; you broke down once you got into one of the cubicles. No sound came out of your lips, but you were sobbing. You felt so foolish. All this time he never asked you out because he already had a fiancée. Someone more attractive and obviously came from a wealthy family, they belonged to the same peer group. You were probably just a summer fling for him. Were there any others? You didn’t know, and you didn’t want to find out. It hurt you how he treated you like you were special. How he held your hand every time he got the chance, how he cradled you in his arms, how his fingers delicately touched your skin…

How he sent you into ecstasies every time he laid with you. 

You were filled with disgust. How could he do such a thing to you? How could he be so cruel to his fiancée? You kept telling yourself over and over that it was not your fault. You wiped your tears, braced yourself, and exited the cubicle to return to your table. 

Sasha and Connie had stopped singing and were both looking at you with worry in their eyes. Meanwhile, Jean didn’t look up, instead tracing the edge of his glass with his hand. He seemed to be in a trance and didn’t realize you had returned from the bathroom.

“(Y/N), are you okay? I mean, that’s a stupid question but… you’re good there, bud?” Connie asked, clearly no longer tipsy.

You nodded and smiled weakly at him. “I’m alright Connie, thanks. I’m really tired, though.”

“Do you want me to drive you back home?” Connie fished out his car keys which Sasha quickly pushed aside.

“You’re totally buzzed, Conman.”

“I’m alright, I’m all sober—”

“I’ll drive you home, (Y/N).” Jean took Connie’s keys and stood up. “Obviously, I’m the only one sober enough to drive.”

“Darn it, you’re right.” Connie clicked his tongue. “Bring my car back right after dropping (Y/N) off, will you?”

You stood up to hug Sasha and Connie, before following Jean out of the bar. Thankfully, Connie had parked not far from the bar. Soon, you were on your way home with Jean driving.

Normally, Jean would have teased you mercilessly. He did that a lot whenever you had an argument with your previous ex. This time, Jean didn’t say anything. He knew how chaotic your mind was. He understood. The ride was silent from the moment you left the bar, all the way until he stopped in front of your apartment building.

Jean pulled the handbrake and turned to look at you. “Do you want me to walk you in, (Y/N)?”

“I’m fine.” You squeaked.

Jean let out a sigh. He stepped out, went around the car, and opened the door for you.

“You know you can call me anytime, right? If you need someone to talk to, or if Sasha doesn’t pick up your call.”

“I know, Jean. Thanks.”

He nodded and opened his arms to hug you. You let him, but it reminded you of Armin. You felt a pang in your chest; you would never inhale that woody scent of his cologne ever again. 

“Alright then, I’d better get going.” You backed up.

You waited until Jean left before entering your apartment. You did everything automatically, taking the elevator up to your floor. What caught you off guard was a familiar figure, sitting with his back against your door.

“What the fuck are you doing here? Get lost.” You sneered.

“(Y/N),” Armin stood up and tried to hold your hands, but you pushed him away. “(Y/N), I’m so sorry—”

“Yeah? Tell that to your fiancée, asshole.”

“Please, (Y/N). Please let me explain first, don’t get the wrong idea, please.” Armin’s eyes began to water and his voice quivered as he was on the verge of crying. “Please, I know it seems fucked up but believe me it’s not what you think it is.”

A part of you wanted to believe him, to invite him in and hear his explanation. Another part of you, though, had had enough. You didn’t want to hear any excuse. You’re sick of being played. You felt bad for his fiancée. 

“Go home, Armin.” You sighed. “Go home. Don’t apologize to me, apologize to your fiancée.”

You pushed Armin aside and unlocked your door.

“(Y/N), you don’t understand—”

“Oh, it’s me who doesn’t understand? How could you? How could you do that to me, to your fiancée? Huh?” You finally snapped. “You know what? Right now I really want to call you names, horrible names, but I won't. You do not deserve my time, you do not deserve my energy, you do not deserve me. I hate you for doing this. I hate the fact that I love the way you treated me, how you made me feel special, how I actually fell in love with you in a matter of a few weeks—”

You were interrupted as Armin’s lips collided with yours. You didn’t kiss back, and it didn’t last long. Armin rested his forehead against yours, a few tears rolled down his cheeks. 

“(Y/N), I was set up.” He sobbed. “My parents set me up, fuck. They arranged a marriage without telling me, nor did they ask for my agreement. Fuck, I’m so sorry (Y/N). I’m so, so sorry.”

You actually let him hug you tight. You felt bad for yelling at him.

“I fell in love with you, dear. I truly did. I am in love with you. So much. I want to get to know you better, and I want to actually ask you out. I didn’t want to rush things but now I regret that. I should have asked you out. I don’t want her, I want you. God, we did a lot of things together, didn’t we, (Y/N)? I gave you my first kiss, I made love for the first time with you, I took you to the beach—a very special and memorable place for me. You’re the one I want. (Y/N), dear, please believe me. I know we’ve only known each other for a month or two, but I know. I know and I really am sure I only want you. Please believe me.”

Your head was spinning and you were at a loss of words. You let Armin hold you for a long time until he stopped crying. You couldn’t think of anything to say, think, or do.

“Thank you,” you croaked out, “For telling me.”

Armin looked at you with a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“I feel like you should sort things out with your family about it. You want me to believe in you? There is nothing else you can do but prove it to me. If I really am the one you want, sort things out. Come back to me when you’re ready.”

Armin nodded slowly. “I will try. I will try my best. Will you wait for me?”

“Yes.”

“Alright.”

Both of you stood there in silence until you cleared your throat.

“Well then, you should probably go home.”

“Ah, yes. I should…” Armin pointed at the elevator with his thumb. “Yeah, I guess so.”

He turned on his heels and trudged down the hallway.

“Good night, Armin.”

He stopped on his track and looked back, a sad smile plastered on his face.

“Good night, (Y/N), my dear.”

This fic is also available on Ao3