#should i have picked something in spanish to decide i need to translate all over. maybe. oh well that sign wont stop me because i cant read

[youssefguedira]

like the issue is i cant phrase why i dont like any of the translations but theyre just. vibes off

[joels-golf-club]

Hiii!!! I have a request

Can you write something with heavy angst at the beginning like maybe a fight? And at the end super super fluffy!!! Any Pedro characters!! (Preferably whiskey or pena)

Complicated

A/n: Thanks for the request anon! I decided heavy angst meant HEAVY angst so here you go. It isn't exactly what you requested but this kinda popped into my head when I read your request and I really wanted to write it, I'm sorry. This is my first Javier Peña fic so pls have some grace <3!

Word Count: 3K

All my work is 18+, MDI!!!

Warnings: Swearing, typical Narcos violence, hurt/comfort, kidnapping, torture, real angsty, kinda fluff at the end jk I can't write fluff apparently, mentions of drinking and smoking, poorly translated Spanish (google translate 😃), no use of Y/n, attempted/talk of SA.

Your relationship with Javier Peña was complicated to say the least. You weren't officially together but there were two toothbrushes in his bathroom, there was a drawer full of your clothes in his dresser, and your coat was hanging by his front door.

He made breakfast for you most mornings and you'd kiss him goodbye when he left for work, but you weren't dating. You loved him but you've never said it to each other.

That was the worst part. You practically lived at his apartment and you feared for his life every single fucking day he went to work, but God forbid he put a damn label on whatever you were. So that's how the argument started.

"You don't need to risk your life every fucking day Javi! The world won't end if you just relax for one goddamn second!" Every single day Javi would come home black and blue. Today he came home with a fractured nose and bruises littering his body from a run in with one of Escobar sicarios.

"Why the fuck do you care? You're not my wife! You're not even my girlfriend! You're nothing to me!" The moment those words left his mouth he immediately backtracked. "Querida, I'm so sorry, I didn't me-"

But it was too late you were already walking to the door to grab your keys and pull on your shoes. "No, Javier. You're right. We aren't dating no reason I should give a damn about you. See you around." The door slammed behind you as you walked away and down the apartment complex to your car parked out front.

Your solution to the hurt radiating throughout you was to head to the nearest bar and get shit faced. Javier would've had your ass for going out and getting drunk alone in the crime capital of the world but who the hell was he to tell you what to do. Especially after what he said when you tried to show concern for him.

So here you were sitting alone at the bar, well past midnight, and probably three too many drinks deep. Getting home was the issue at hand now. Home. That should've been Javier's apartment filled with both of your belongings. The two of you should've been intertwined in bed right about now, connected in the most intimate way.

But instead you were drunk, alone, and extremely vulnerable. All because Javier fucking Peña couldn't find it in himself to commit to one person after over a year of almost dating.

As you made a move to walk out the bar and back towards the car you almost immediately stumbled just standing up, no way in hell were you driving across town to your apartment.

Walking wasn't an option either. There were already three men outside the bar looking at you in a way that was much more than just friendly.

There was only one person you could call no matter how much you wanted to avoid it.

He picked up on the third ring. "Hermosa? I'm so sorry, I didn't mean anything I said you know that right?" He immediately started spewing apologies the moment he answered the phone.

"Javier, I don't really care right now? I'm drunk, really drunk and there's these guys that aren't too far away from me and I can't drive."

"Where are you, Carino?" You gave him the address and you could hear him grab his keys and slam the door. "Stay where you are and stay on the phone ok? Do not hang up."

You nodded before remembering he couldn't see you. "Ok. " You kept an eye on the three men and couldn't help but notice they were closer than before, they had now crossed the road over to your side of the street. "Javi?"

"What is it? I'm 30 minutes away."

"Javi they're getting closer." You gasped when a flash of metal lit up in the dim streetlight. "Javi they have guns. What do I do? They have fucking guns Javi." You were panicking now and the men were only getting closer. Javier wouldn't be able to do shit in half an hour if the men decided to use their weapons.

"Lock your doors. Do not open the doors. Can you drive at all?"

You're gaze darted around and sent your head spinning. "No. Javi I can't drive! I'm so fucking stupid why would I get drunk right now? Javi what if they try to d-"

The sound of your voice over the phone was cut off by a scream and loud gunshots ringing through the line.

Javi gripped the wheel and pressed the pedal down to the floor while shouting your name. "Hey! What happened? Answer me please!" He called your name again before the line went dead. "Joder que hago? ¿Qué debo hacer? Fuck, what do I do? What do I do?"

With sweating palms and a racing pulse he called Murphy for backup.

After the men shattered your windows with bullets, they roughly yanked you out of your car, uncaring of any cuts or scrapes you got from all the broken glass, and shoved you through the doorway of the house across the street they had sat in front of earlier.

The entirety of the short walk there was spent with you fighting tooth and nail to get out of their grasp while the men felt you up through the tight dress you wore. Their dirty hands grabbed and pulled at every available inch of skin they could reach while you tried to kick and bite at their skin.

"Deja de pelear o te paso una bala por el cerebro! Stop fighting or I put a bullet through your brain!" The press of cold metal against your temple had you freezing where you stood before you were roughly shoved into a chair with the gun still pointed at your skull, keeping you still.

You tried to remember what Javi had told you to do if you were ever in one of these situations. "Do whatever they say, Hermosa. If they ask you what you know, you do not tell them anything. They will kill you the moment they don't need you anymore. Wait for the right moment if you can to fight." Right. Do what they say. Don't answer questions. You could do that.

The man with the gun came closer to you and caressed your face with the back of his hand causing you to jerk away as far as you could. The man's gaze narrowed and he backhanded you across the side of your face, sending you to the ground with your ears ringing. "Don't be a bitch. I'll have to teach you a lesson, then I'll let them have a turn with you, Hermosa." The pet name sent a fresh wave of sobs through your body at the memory of Javi calling you that only hours earlier and the man straddled your thrashing form then pulled out a knife from his jean pocket and cut away at what little remained of your torn dress and undergarments, leaving you entirely exposed to the three men while you fought beneath him.

"Stop! No, don't! Please stop!" You begged as tears flowed down your cheeks and you kicked uselessly a the man pinning you down.

"I told you to stop moving!" The man swung his fist down across your jaw, sending black dots flooding across your vision and make your ears ring once again. "Now hold still or this is gonna be so much worse for you." The man released his grip on your arms to reach for his belt, only for another man to send his boot into your ribs causing you to curl away and let out a wheezing cough.

Just as the man got his button and zipper undone and leaned over you once again you let out a scream and threw your throbbing head forward into the man's nose making a river a blood flow down his face. "You fucking bitch!" He sent his boot into your side again, making your curl up into a ball and gestured to his two men. "Tie her to the chair. Make sure she stays conscious, I want her to know what happened.

The man's words sent your eyes flying open and you immediately kicked and screamed at the hands that grabbed at your bruising arms. "No! Stop! Please, please I'm sorry! I'll do whatever you say, please!" Your screams and begging only brought a sadistic smile to the first man's face when we held up the knife he had earlier and brought the tip to your bare ribs.

He trailed the blade with just enough pressure to draw blood down to your exposed stomach and pressed the tip deeper into your skin and dragged the blade down, forcing a scream from your throat. He did this a few more times before he pulled the bloody knife away from your stomach and up to your cheeks to cut a deep line across both. He leaned forward to whisper in your ear while his hands roamed your bare body, "You look much prettier with that. Look at your pretty little stomach, Hermosa." He forced you to look down at where he had cut into your skin and your sobbed at the markings left there, AJS; the man had carved his fucking initials into your stomach.

Just as the man grabbed at your body again deafening gunshots rang out and the man's body slumped forward against your own while blood from his head and chest spilled across your skin. The two other men barely had enough time to raise their own weapons before more gunshots sounded and they slumped to the floor as well.

You looked down at the body in your bare lap and your tormentor's blank eyes stared back at you. You let out a scream and yanked at your bindings in an attempt to get away from the body, but you only managed to thrash enough to knock your chair backwards and fall to the side when you heard thundering footsteps rush into the room. You forced your eyes as closed as tight as they would go in an effort to ignore what you new was sitting right in front of you. Your body wouldn't stop shaking.

Suddenly hands were on your bare skin and you let out another piercing scream, unable to process the much more familiar grasp that pulled you upright and cut away the ropes on your wrists and ankles. "Shh, Hermosa, it's me. It's Javi." You were still shaking and sobbing when he pulled his jacket off to cover your exposed body and you still wouldn't open your eyes open from their sealed position. "Look at me, Hermosa, look at me."

You finally pealed your eyes open at his soft voice and saw the man kneeling in front of you. "Javi?"

He nodded and made sure your gaze stayed on him when he lifted you up out of the chair. "Yeah it's me, hermosa. You're okay now. you're safe."

At the sound of that name you flinched and new tears sprung to your eyes. "Please don't call me that anymore. H-he called me that."

Javi's jaw clenched and anger flared in his brown eyes but he nodded and continued walking you out of the house to where an ambulance sat outside the building. He set you down on the back of the open vehicle so the medics nearby could check you over but you gripped his hand as hard as you could the moment he let go of you.

"Please don't leave me alone, I can't be alone right now." Your hand shakes where it grips his and you can't help but stare at the cuts and bruises littering the skin there. It all seemed much more real now that you could see the marks on your skin. Your skin. The man had carved his fucking initials into your skin. You looked down and moved Javi's jacket away from your stomach to stare down at where your hip began. Blood covered the wound but you knew what was there. You lifted your hand to try and reveal the marks in a moment of morbid curiosity but-

"Querida, don't." Javi's voice pulled you from your thoughts. "I'll stay with you however long you need, but you can't touch it. Try not to look at it if that helps, alright? Estarás bien, te lo prometo. You'll be okay, I promise." You just nodded and Javi held your hands while the medic checked you over and cleaned and bandaged your wounds.

The medic informed you that you shouldn't be left alone for a few days and that you'd have to change your bandages twice a day, but you were cleared to go without having to go to the hospital.

"You'll be ok staying with me right, querida? You can't be alone and I don't want you out of my sights." You nodded silently to answer his question which only made him furrow his brows and concern took over his face, but he said nothing and just guided you over to his jeep.

The two of you drove in silence for about ten minutes before you spoke for the first time in well over an hour. "Javi?"

"Sí?"

You swallowed hard and stared down at your still shaking hands. Why won't they stop shaking? "I'm sorry for all this. If I didn't try to be so controlling with you earlier and if I didn't go and get drunk like a fucking idiot you wouldn't had to have dealt with me and-"

"Darling. Stop it. Stop thinking for one second that any of this is your fault. You aren't controlling, you care and I didn't know how to act because of it and that is no excuse for any of the absolute shit I said, by the way. And you aren't an idiot, you are the smartest person I know and you just did what anyone would do after a long day. The only people to blame are the hijos de puta that did this to you. So please, darling, for both our sakes don't blame yourself." He had just pulled up to your apartment when he stopped speaking and he parked before turning to face you.

Tears streamed down your face and the tight feeling in your chest was back from earlier and your fucking hands wouldn't stop shaking. "He marked me, Javi..." You whispered in between sobs as your shoulders shook. You looked up just to see Javi's face fall apart.

"He did what?" His voice came out a broken whisper full of pain for you.

"He marked me! He took a knife and carved his goddamn initials into my skin! He made sure it would scar so that I can't ever forget! What kind of sick fucking psycho does that shit?" Your sobs came faster and Javi hopped out of the car and ran to your door, pulling you into his arms.

"Baby, I'm so fucking sorry. I know that doesn't do shit, but you didn't deserve a single second of what you went through. You know that right?" You nodded and let him pull you out of the car as he ushered you upstairs to his apartment.

Once the door was closed and locked behind you two, you steeled yourself and forced away your tears before turning to face Javi again. You would not waste anymore tears on the fucker who did this to you, he didn't even deserve a thought. You wanted to set things right between you and Javi and if what happened today is what that takes, so be it."Javi. I love you, and I'm sick of your shit."

Shock filled the man's face across from you and he shook his head. This was the first time saying those words to him and the circumstance seemed less than ideal. "Querida what are you saying?"

"I love you so goddamn much and I know you love me and you just won't say it. I will not stick around if it's going to be more of the same as what it has been. You will either take me on a date when I'm over all this bullshit and make what we are official, or I'm getting my stuff and leaving." You stared Javi dead in the eyes and narrowed your gaze when his face split into a grin and he let out a short bark of laughter.

"There you are, baby."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Javi just grinned wider and shook his head before he wrapped you in his arms and pressed a kiss to your temple. You melted into his grasp but confusion still filled you.

"You've had this... this look on your face after everything like you're not quite here but you are now. That's great, baby. And just so we're clear, I will take you on a date the second you are feeling up to it. Then I will take you back here and you can officially move in after I spend hours making up for everything stupid thing I have done or said to you." His voice had taken on a slight seductive whisper at the end that sent a small shiver through you and you grinned as you wrapped your bruised arms around him.

"That sounds perfect, Javi. Now let go of me because I really need a fucking shower or I'm never going on that date with you." The reminder of the blood and grime still on you from the events of the night made you shudder and the mood changed instantly but Javi just nodded and squeezed your hand in reassurance as he walked with you towards the bathroom. He would be with you through everything and he would help you get through this.

[invisibleraven]

Imagine your OTP with Character A secretly learning Character B’s mother language to say stupid pick-up lines to them / Rulie

Also for @innytoes who agrees this prompt is extremely Rulie coded.

“Damn you owl!” Reggie scowled as he tosses his phone across the couch.

“Did you get Rick Rolled by an owl?” Luke asked, not even looking up from the song he was working on.

“Something like that,” Reggie grumbled.

Alex picked up the phone, and bit back a grin as he saw the screen. “Bonita, not bonito.”

“Stupid feminization,” Reggie replied. “It’s screwed me up more than once.”

“Should I ask why?” Alex asked, nodding at the phone as he handed it to Reggie.

“I think you know why,” Reggie replied.

Willie peered over his shoulder and smiled. “Dude if you want to learn Spanish there is a whole ass family willing to teach you.”

“I want it to be a surprise,” Reggie replied.

“Also I doubt he wants to ask Ray how to flirt with Julie in Spanish,” Luke smirked.

Reggie sputtered at that, but it wasn’t like he could deny it. He figured if he hit Julie with truly epic lines in Spanish she might grant him a second glance. Or at least laugh in that way that he loved-all crinkly eyes and letting her smile shine.

But languages had never been his strong suit, and well there was only so much that Duolingo could teach him.

Yet he was still here, struggling along as he learned the basics, dog earring his Spanish English dictionary, and watching a lot of movies with subtitles turned on.

“This is a stupid plan isn’t it?” he asked.

“I think it’s adorable!” Willie proclaimed. “I know I would super appreciate it if a guy learned another language for me.”

“Even if it’s just to flirt?” Alex countered. “Because I can learn conversational Japanese if you want. Though you’d have an easier time learning German.”

“Anyways…” Reggie drawled before those two started at it again. But before he could continue that thought, they all heard the door to Julie’s house open, meaning she was headed this way for band practice.

“You got this Romeo,” Luke said, clapping on the back.

“Romeo was Italian,” Alex piped up.

“Zorro?”

“Close enough.”

With that they high tailed it out, greeting Julie, claiming they were going on a snack run. Despite the fact that Ray always kept the garage well stocked.

She shook her head as she entered the garage-she would never get these guys. But then she noticed Reggie, fiddling with the ends of his flannel, an almost queasy smile on his face. “Hey Reg.”

“Hola,” he replied. “¿Dónde están tus alas?”

“My what?” Julie asked with a giggle and Reggie hoped his pronunciation wasn’t as horrendous as he thought it was.

“Alas,” he repeated. “Porque eres un ángel.”

“Gracias,” she replied, a tiny blush painting her cheeks. “I didn’t know you spoke Spanish.”

“I’m still learning,” he stated. “I didn’t butcher it too badly did I?”

“It still has a pulse,” Julie said. “Can I ask why you decided to learn Spanish? I could have taught you.”

“I wanted to surprise you,” Reggie murmured.

“Well it’s a lovely surprise,” Julie said, looping her arms around his neck. “Though you need to work on rolling your R’s.”

“I can do that,” Reggie replied swaying them back and forth. “Rrrrrobot. Rrrrrribbit. Rrrrrreggie.”

Julie giggled, nuzzling their noses together. “Me das dolor de cabeza, mi lindo.”

“That means you think I’m cute right?” Reggie asked, his smile almost blinding.

“Si,” Julie replied. “El más lindo.” Then pulled him in for a kiss that made Reggie forget every language he knew.

But it didn’t matter because that kiss was easy to understand-no translation needed.

[retrieve-the-kraken]

9 favourite books

Thank you @gwiazdziarka for tagging me (and thanks for all those book recs, I’m adding all of them to my list, except for the ones that I’ve already read), and I agree, maybe all of these won’t be my absolute favorite books, but they’re either books that I think about a lot, or books that have a special place in my heart, but not necessarily something that I go back to over and over.

The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint Exúpery

This one is definitely a favorite. It’s a book that I’ve reread many times, because I feel that it has a different feel every time, depending on what I’m going through at that moment. Also a classic. Love it so much that I’ve started to collect editions in different languages; so far I have Spanish (of course), French, Italian, Chinese, Korean, Japanese, Euskera (possibly one of the rarest), and Swedish (of course, because I intend to be able to read it by next year).

Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman

Also an absolute favorite, classic down-the-rabbit-hole type story that takes place in London Below. Fell in love with it, with the world-building within an already existing world. If i actually had to list 9 of my favorite books, pretty sure the whole list would be Neil Gaiman, but this book is both entertaining and comforting, so I pick this one. The BBC radio drama adaptation starring James McAvoy and Natalie Dormer is also excellent. Still waiting for the book sequel, though…

84 Charing Cross Road by Helene Hanff

The most charming book in history, composed entirely of letters between an aspiring writer and rare books collector in New York and the manager of a rare books bookshop in London. Their relationship is platonic, and yet one of the most romantic things I have ever read. The movie adaptation is equally charming and it has Anthony Hopkins and Judi Dench in it. Read the book first, then watch the movie, then cry endlessly. Rinse and repeat.

Like a Hole in the Head by Jen Banbury

You should know that I get a lot of book recommendations from TV shows, so I decided to hunt down this book when Monica was reading it in more than one episode of Friends (felt like a subliminal message). And it was fucking worth it. Also a book about a book. A dwarf comes into a bookshop where the protagonist works, to sell a first edition of Jack London’s White Fang, and only after he’s gone she finds out just how rare it is. Heist plot ensues. It’s equally strange and exciting, mind-blowing and cathartic.

The Opposite of Loneliness by Marina Keegan

Very melancholy, this book is a collection of essays, poems and short stories published posthumously, as Keegan died in an accident at 21. She was very talented and could write convincingly about many things. Can’t even pick a favorite one out of the collection, because they’re all very good in very different ways. Very bittersweet.

Los Caballos Estornudan en la Lluvia by Dimas Lidio Pitty

Another short story collection (the title literally translates as “Horses Sneeze in the Rain”), from a Panamanian author, from the region where I spent my childhood summers, which still holds a very special place in my heart, and which has a mysticism about it that he helps preserve in these stories. Dimas Lidio Pitty was very good at magical realism. One of the stories in particular is so brief, but it’s incredible how good it is in such a short narration.

Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury

I’m a huge fan of classic dystopic science fiction, and this one has got to be my favorite. The narrative is interesting, moves along at an excellent pace, and it covers everything. Another book about books too. If you haven’t read Fahrenheit 451, the premise is simple: in this dystopic society, firemen don’t put out fires, they start them… to burn books. Book banning to the extreme. What happens next? You need to read it to find out.

El Misterio del Solitario by Jostein Gaarder

I have been obsessed with this book (The Solitaire Mystery in English) by Norwegian author Jostein Gaarder since I started reading all his books when I was a teen (I don’t even know how I came across him, I just picked one up one day and went with it, it wasn’t even Sophy’s World, it was Through a Glass, Darkly). Of course Sophy’s World is probably the most famous, and it was very good, but this one is so strange and magical that I read it several times ages ago, and it was such a comforting book, and now I would like to reread. Maybe one day soon I’ll read it in Norwegian!

The Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum

Another classic and favorite, which I have also read many times. Some people like Alice in Wonderland, some like Peter Pan, I like the Wizard of Oz. I like anything Oz related, the movie, the musical, Wicked (the musical, not the book, tho), everything. But the source material is still where it’s at.

No pressure tags: @makingupachangingmind , @voldiebeth , @raincitygirl76 and @phoebenpiperx .

[whiskeynwriting]

Birds of a Feather - Chapter Two: Acquainted

Nico x Female Reader

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Word Count: 7.5k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)

Smoking, alcohol consumption, mentions of an age gap, get ready to ramp it up in chapter three lol

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A/N: There's some Spanish in this chapter, but as always the translations are in parenthesis after the sentences where it's used (:

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Birds of a Feather Taglist

Join My Taglist!

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“Tape forty-nine, June twenty-third. It is approximately eight o’clock in the morning; I’ve quite liked this new exercise. I find myself becoming more poetic these days, smelling the roses, if you will. There’s been quite the breakthrough with my students lately, no doubt due to my own influence, I’m quite proud to say.” Nico laughs, his chuckle extremely self-assured. He’s having a good day. “But… her. She is still a mystery.” 

He then hears something stir outside of his bedroom; the sound makes him spin on his heels. When he doesn’t hear a knock or see the doorknob jiggle, he narrows his eyes, but continues. 

“These feelings are… strange. Why should I have to prove myself or behave like this for a young girl? Certainly I have no need for such attention or reassurance. I am Nicolás, a proud name! An artist, a composer, a philanthropist and much more. That is who I am, that is what I am!”

It’s been nearly a month, and still, it’s strange for him to have someone like you in his house, in both personal and professional preference. He’s never had a maid that was so involved with his life before. Though you’ve grown close, of course, or at least acquainted with one another. 

“And Daniel,” he’s speaking much lower now, a look of distaste crossing his face. He never disliked the boy before you came to his home. “He’s taken quite a liking to her. How could he not when she dresses like that? Her small bows and flowery skirts, it begs for the eye’s attention.” When he says it his eyes widen, not having realized what he’s just said until he’s said it. And even though he’s alone, he blushes from embarrassment. Why did he say that? 

“I…” He honestly isn’t sure what to say. “She does her job well. I’ve been happy with her attention to detail.” Continuing on, he decides to end his commentary on the topic of you for today. “I’m content.” 

You’re not sure you’ve ever been this confused before. Your feelings surrounding the complexity of it all are honestly baffling. And over what? Nico’s opinion? His praise? You sigh, embarrassed to admit you’ve done your best to receive it nearly the moment you arrived. Of course you have, he’s your boss! But this is just silly, you’re only picking out a drink menu. 

“What does he like?” You mutter to yourself, scanning the options on your laptop. 

There were so many on the website, it was making your head start to spin. And you thought this would be one of the easier steps. When you took on this job, you never expected that it would be your responsibility to plan Nico’s social events. But you took the responsibility like a champ, planning every last detail as soon as he informed you of it. But following through on those plans is another story. And with the event only two days away, you were starting to panic. 

During your stay, you’ve observed Nico, eyeing him even when he was unaware. It was easy to learn his interests, his preferences for food, his style, the way he speaks and likes to be spoken to. And when you conformed to these general likes and dislikes, he responded well. It was subtle at first, his kind compliments. 

“Nicely done.” He’d say with a short nod, watching as you handed him his morning plate. 

“You have a clear talent for that.” He’s told you, watching you look up at him with a brightness in your eyes. You’d been decorating a gallery wall for him. 

“How beautiful.” Nico said once, eyeing the braid in your hair. 

At times, he truly made you feel like the center of the universe, praising you for the smallest of things when done right; however, you’ve also learned that he has the capability to make you feel small, forgettable. Because you are, you’re the maid. And since you never leave, you assume that it’s become easy for him to dismiss your presence. It’s far too easy, actually. You’re a ghost in the background, a simple flutter in the wind - only noticeable when one looks for it. 

Because of your boss’ tendency to be candid, your insides practically light up when you receive a compliment; it’s because you know he’s being genuine. But his approval was just as blunt and vocal as his distaste. If you did something wrong, he was certain to let you know. He didn’t care if what he said hurt your feelings; you have a job to get done. And he’s going to make sure you get it done right. 

Quickly, you found that there were different levels of his appreciation, from mere comments to full on gratitude, true and genuine compliments. At first, you thought he was less than happy to feel your presence when you were near, but it seems he’s finally grown fond of you. He smiles when he praises you, too, almost happy to have placed a seed of joy within you. But did he have to phrase it that way?

“Good afternoon.” You say to him, looking up from your laptop. 

“And to you.” Nico replies, dipping his head down with a grin while walking through the living room. 

With a quiet yet dreamy sigh, you stare, watching as he waltzes elegantly across the floor. He’s well-dressed, he always is. The only time you see him in something that wasn’t professional or designer was in the morning. Even then, his night clothes were tailored to fit him perfectly. Subconsciously, you’ve romanticized him. He’s such a dream to you; the life he lives is incredibly idealistic. He gets to do what he loves on a daily basis, and lives lavishly because of it. What more could he want? Nico’s style is elegant, his personal hygiene pristine, his taste in music and movies quite refined. The way he glanced around the room made you want to look around, too; because whatever he was looking at must be worthwhile for you to see, too. He looked at the simplest of things as if they were made of gold, he spoke as if everyone in the world would listen, walked like he knew everyone stared as he strolled into the room; and they did. They always did. And you did, too. 

Across the living room, Nico sits, having pulled a book from one of his many shelves to read. You’re surprised he’s choosing to sit with you. He doesn’t realize it, but he finds himself yearning for your company. It was sweet and calm, just like you. 

He’s wearing his reading glasses, his hair pushed to the side and his beard freshly trimmed. His gray stubble shows his age, and so does his quiet groan when he adjusts to get more comfortable. He adjusts the pillow you’d placed on the seat moments prior to him coming in, settling into the plushness of it. It makes you grin; you like helping him. 

While completing your duties, you decide to hum along to a song, one that’s been stuck inside your head all day. You make sure to stay quiet, not wanting to disturb Nico while he reads. But he notices, and not unpleasantly. It makes him grin. Quite the little songbird, you are. 

“How is the event coming along?” Nico asks, eyes unwavering as they continue to scan the lines of his book. He props his left ankle up on his right knee, creating a triangle with his legs. He holds the novel with both hands, resting it on his shin. 

“Good.” You lie, swallowing with a nod. “I’m currently viewing the drink menus.” 

“Drink menus?” He looks up now, peering at you over the top of his glasses. “Surely you’ve done more than that.”

“I have!” You return nervously, nodding once again, this time more hurried. “I just, I saved the easiest portions for last.” 

Slowly, his eyes return to the page. “Good.” Nico says calmly, his foot shaking lightly. 

Lord, you really need to get going on this. But before you can even return to the screen, a knock on the front door rings throughout your new home. 

“I’ll get it.” Immediately, you stand, placing your laptop beside you. 

Again, Nico’s eyes peek up from the pages, watching you pass him and walk out of the room. He smells you as you walk by, inhaling deeply when the fresh scent is available to his nose. Clean and flowery. Sweet and pleasant. 

“Hi,” 

“Hi!” It’s an excited response, giddy almost, and it makes him internally groan. Daniel is here. He doesn’t get up to say hello. 

“Señor Nicolás.” Daniel nods with a kind smile, walking into the living room and over to Fabian’s cage. 

“Daniel.” Is  all he says in return; again, eyes not leaving his book. 

Your friend gives you a slightly concerned look, but you shrug it off. 

“So,” Daniel begins as he takes the parrot out of his cage. “What have you learned?”

“No loud noises, no sudden movements, no big reactions.” 

“Very good.” Daniel grins, “You’re learning so quick.”

At this, Nico perks up a bit. 

“Well it’s hard not to when you repeated it nearly five times last night.” You joke with him, holding your hand out to Fabian. 

Last night? You were home last night; did you speak on the phone? 

“I just want you guys to be friends, okay?” 

Daniel hasn’t let you hold Fabian in quite some time; he wanted the bird to get more accustomed to you, and you to him. Mateo, however, loves you. He lets you feed him all the time. It’s rather easy to receive the approval of a tortoise, though. They’re such peaceful creatures. 

“I was wondering,” Daniel then says, watching you admire Fabian’s feathers. “There’s a new bar that opened up in town. Would you like to go there with me sometime this week?”

“Oh, really?” You ask, intrigued. “That sounds fun!” 

You haven’t been out much, not at all, actually. An adventure into town sounds pleasant, refreshing. The house is nice, but it’s become stuffy. It’s been nearly a month; you desperately need a break. Plus, you’ll finally be able to spend time with your new friend, your only friend. This will be good for you. 

Before long, the door is knocked upon. Standing to answer it before you can, Nico clears his throat, opening the door. By the way he approaches the situation, you assume he’s expecting a student. And upon further inspection, you realize he was expecting one, now welcoming her inside. 

He doesn’t excuse himself, as he wasn’t really talking to either of you. But still, you’d like it if he addressed you, especially in front of this particular pupil of his. Pressing your lips together firmly, you wonder if you should listen in on their lesson. After all, the music they produced was lovely. Wouldn’t it sound even prettier up close? But that’s not the real reason you want to listen in, is it? 

He’s pacing the room, he feels foolish but he’s still doing it. He’d cleared his head enough to get through his lesson, but once that was over, he shot upstairs to his private room. His study was the first place that came to mind, a comfortable space for him and his thoughts. A place where he can be alone. 

“This is good,” He decides, firmly stroking his chin. This feeling of jealousy, he must be misinterpreting it. He needs to redirect his emotions. And while you’re busy with a new love interest, he can direct his focus elsewhere. 

The day has gone by quick, and while he’s been in his study, you’ve been planning his party. It’s an event for other artists and musicians, ones he’s known for years. And because these are his friends, you feel incredible pressure to add in Nico’s specific tastes, his favorite foods and music, his preferred color schemes and decorating; surely they share those things in common. You’re aiming to impress, and not only him. 

“Sir?” You call, knocking gently on his office door. You didn’t receive an answer when you went to his bedroom.

Nico looks up from his desk, having been composing a small piece for his students to practice. He’s wearing his reading glasses again, but takes them off as he sighs. 

“Come in.” 

Opening the door, you’re met with the warm tone of his work space. It’s dimly lit, the lights that are on emitting a warm, golden glow. There’s a candle burning in the corner, one that smells like sandalwood. There’s also the smell of tobacco; he’s smoking a cigarette. He’s sitting at his desk, which is placed along the back wall of the room. The wood is dark, just like the leather, and there’s an abundance of both all around you. He looks misunderstood, sat in the darkness like this; a poet, surrounded by the art that consumes him. 

“I was wondering what your preferences were regarding liquor.”

While you speak, you hold your hands behind your back, twiddling your fingers nervously.  

“Still on those drink menus, I see.” He grins, amused. He knew you’d been lying. And then he leans forward, grabbing a glass that you didn’t see sitting on the corner of his desk. “Whiskey, my darling.” 

Those words make you flutter inside. He doesn’t ever call you that.

“Oh, I’ve… I haven’t noticed that before.” 

“You wouldn’t have.” He returns, shaking his head. He holds up the glass, admiring the dark tint to the liquid it’s holding for him. 

His words make you sad, your head hanging a bit. He sees this. 

“Not for your lack of attention.” Nico corrects, “I don’t drink it anywhere but here.” 

“Oh,” You lift your spirits a bit. That makes sense, then. You don’t often come into this room. But his comment makes you wonder, your thoughts spoken aloud. “Why not?” 

Nico’s eyes dart over to you, a sly smirk on his lips. “The devil is tempting.” 

Your lips mirror his own; he must be tipsy. It seems like it would be rather enjoyable, spending time here. Smoking, drinking, until all your thoughts swirl into something so incredibly beautiful, too beautiful to dream up when sober. The atmosphere, the air about him, it draws you in. 

“You don’t drink, do you?” 

You shake your head, holding your hands behind your back as you take a timid step towards him. 

Shaking his head, he utters, “What a shame.” Gently swirling his drink. He then lifts the rim to his lips, taking a sip. “What do you think of it?”

“Hm?” The question takes you by surprise. 

Again, his eyes flicker to yours. And this time, he sets the glass down. 

“What, do you think of it?” He asks again, sternly. 

“I, um… I’m sure it’s pleasurable to those who drink it.” 

Nico tuts at this, head moving side to side. His fingers slide along the glass, the cup decorated with a clear, diamond pattern. 

“I take pity on you.” 

Your brow creases, head tilting to the side. What did you do wrong this time? 

“I despise the boring.”

“Oh, I…” His words sting. He thinks you’re boring? 

Nico’s harsh words only serve to dull the interest that’s been rising inside him. Perhaps you’re not worth his time, after all.

“People who don’t have opinions, those who would rather stay neutral; lacking depth.” 

You gulp, fingers twitching before balling up into your palms, which are still held behind your back. By now, your face has ran hot, boiling just beneath the surface. You’re full of embarrassment and nerves, his words making you feel insecure. 

But his next words surprise you.

“I know that’s not you.” He surprises himself, too. He must have had too much, because he’s letting his inner emotions bleed through. “By the way you dress, I can tell you have taste.” 

Looking down at your current attire, you raise your brows thoughtfully. “Oh, t - thank you.” 

What comes next is your name, sliding from his mouth as easily as the liquor slides down his throat, and just as smooth, too. His voice beckons for you, taunting you just enough to lift your head. He’s looking at you. 

“Don’t hide your opinions from me.” 

“I won’t.”

“Promise me?”

“What?”

“Promise me.” It’s not a request this time. 

“I… promise.” You eventually say, caught off guard by the demand. But it makes him happy; he smiles. 

Sucking in a breath, he looks amused, now sitting up in his chair. 

“Take a seat.”

Nico gestures to a chaise lounge off to the side of the room, not too far from him. Eager to please, you follow his motions, sitting down on the leather covered piece of furniture. 

“So, what do you think of her?” 

Once you sit down, your head snaps up to look at him. “Who?”

You know immediately who he’s talking about, of course you do. That new student of his, well, relatively new. She’d started lessons with him two weeks ago and isn’t necessarily kind to you, especially when Nico isn’t around. She likes to raise her nose to you, act like she’s better than you. Scoffing when you make Nico laugh and grinning while watching you vacuum. She wore bright red lipstick every day she came, and wore skirts that just barely covered her center. 

Not only do you know who he’s talking about, but you know why he’s asking you about her, too. After a moment of snooping, you’d found that the air duct beneath the first flight of stairs offered you the best opportunity to listen to his music when he was in that room. Earlier today, you decided to listen in. And to your utter shock and dismay, Nico caught you hiding beneath the stairs like a child, like a fool.

“Veronica.” 

Swallowing your nerves down, you force a smile. “She’s… very pretty.”

Nico chuckles. You were clearly embarrassed when he caught you today. Why were you so curious about what he was doing in that room? Have you always listened to him like this? Or only during sessions with her? She dresses differently than you, her makeup and hair dissimilar to your own, too. But Nico wasn’t interested in that kind of look; and even if he was, she was only a student to him.

“What do you think of her music?”

He wonders, were you jealous? This is why he asked what you think of her. He doesn’t care what you think about her music, he wanted to see how you’d react to the question. And just as he thought, your reaction tells him everything he needs to know. 

Silly girl, he thinks to himself. 

His clarification makes you feel like a complete idiot. You feel stiff and cornered, and he didn’t usually make you feel this way. You want to go back to how he was during the day; his warm yet eccentric personality always makes you feel fuzzy inside. Normally, Nico was quiet. When he wanted to, he listened. But when he wanted to talk, boy did he do it. That’s what he did today, that’s what made you so jealous today. While listening in, you’d hear him tell Veronica about his most recent trip to South America, something he’s never told you. You’ve been here for more than a month, and her, only two weeks. Why has he never said anything about those trips to you? 

“What, what was the question again?” You’ve become lost in your own thoughts. 

Again, Nico chuckles, a true laugh this time. But as for his response, all he does is nod up at you, grabbing his glass once again. 

“Go to bed, little one.” 

The main color is yellow, muted and pastel and in every sense of the word, cute. It’s the first time you can dress a little looser than you do around the house; you’re going out! You’re so excited you’re practically giddy. You haven’t been able to wear these pieces around Nico, you wouldn’t dare. Your day to day attire usually consisted of a long sleeve sweater, maybe even a turtle neck, your top always fitting nicely. Almost always, you’d wear a skirt, the summer heat not allowing anything else. When guests were around, Nico had a specific outfit he’d like you to wear. A black pencil skirt, a blue undershirt and a long, dark gray cardigan. It kept you very covered, it almost made you feel hidden. But tonight, you’re wearing something new, something that makes you feel noticeable and bright. 

Yellow, you knew you wanted to wear yellow. You pulled out a short, plaid skirt, one that went to your mid-thigh. The base was an extremely pale lemon color, with the plaid consisting of muted greens and pinks. You then decided on a white tank top, lace decorating both the top and bottom edges. Covering your arms was a small, sunshine-toned cardigan. The hem fell to your waist, the white lace of your tank top peaking out at the very bottom. There were buttons, but you only connected the two bottom ones, deciding to allow the lace at the top of your shirt to show as well. Feeling a little extra free and flirty, you let the cardigan hang off one of your shoulders, draping a white handbag over that same arm. Simple, white sneakers adorn your feet, sparkling and clean. 

As for hair and makeup, you decided to doll yourself up. You wrapped your hair into a claw clip, placing it at the back of your head. A few strands hang around your face, fairly messy but entirely cute. And applying your makeup was easy; you went for a nude look. 

On your way down the stairs, you hear the landline ring. And with no one else around, you decide to answer it. 

“Hello?”

Daniel answers with the question of your name on the other end of the line. 

“Hi!”

“Hey! Just checking that we’re still good to meet?”

“Of course, I’m so excited!”

Around the corner, your boss hears you speaking to someone on the phone. Curiosity brews inside him, so he inches closer to listen in. 

“Está bien, te veré pronto, hermosa.” (Okay good, I’ll see you soon, beautiful)

Beautiful? That’s not something he’s said before. The nickname catches you off guard, but you laugh it off somewhat awkwardly. 

“Te veo pronto.” (See you soon)

Before he can say anything more, you hang up the phone. And in good timing too, because Nico is currently rounding the corner to come talk to you. 

“¿Tú hablas Español?” He asks, a curious crease on his forehead. (You speak Spanish?)

He practically blurts it out as he approaches, but once he fully sees you, he closes his mouth. This is new, incredibly new. He’s never seen so much skin on you. Your shoulder and arm out, your thighs on display, your cleavage even daring to request his gaze. He’s stunned to see you this way. 

Jumping a little, you look at him with surprise before answering. “Sí.” (Yes)

His own shock is obvious, those dark brown eyes scanning your form. He swallows when he gives into the silent request, his eyes finally falling to your chest. 

“¿Estás bien, señor?”  (Are you okay, sir?)

Nico’s eyes dart up to yours, something about you calling him sir in Spanish making his insides stir. 

“Tu acento,” He breathes out, almost in awe. But he tries to compose himself. “Es perfecto.” (Your accent, it’s perfect)

“Gracias señor,” His words make warmth rush to your cheeks, dipping your head bashfully, gracefully. “He estudiado durante años.” (Thank you sir, I’ve studied for years)

“¿Estudió?” (Studied?)

“Sí, yo también he viajado.” (Yes, I have traveled as well) 

“Estoy… impresionado.” (I’m… impressed)

And he truly is. He had no clue you knew more than one language, let alone his own mother tongue. Apparently, you’re much more cultured than he’d assumed you to be. 

“Bueno,” You respond, eyes floating down to the ground as you ponder your full response. He seems so intrigued. You wish you could keep this interaction going, but Daniel is waiting. “Me voy ahora.” (Well, I’m leaving now) 

“Dónde?” It comes out before he realizes. He shouldn’t be interested in that. (Where?)

“Al bar, con Daniel.” You say it as if he should know, and he should. You told him about this the other day. (To the bar, with Daniel)

“Ah,” He sharply nods. “Por supuesto.” (Of course)

An awkward silence passes between the two of you. Something has been… off, inside him. He feels almost protective over you. You are under his supervision, after all, and because of your duties, you’ve grown quite essential to his daily life. Nevertheless, he must move on. Clasping his hands together and taking a breath he smiles at you. 

“Qué tengas buenas noches.”(Have a good night)

And before you can respond, he turns, and is gone. You wanted to wish him well on his nighttime endeavors, too. It’s a shame you can’t be present for the party you’d planned. But it works out in your favor, as your cab has been waiting in his driveway. Daniel offered to pick you up, but you insisted that you meet. You didn’t want him to go out of his way. 

The bar is about a fifteen-minute drive, but you don’t mind. The city is beautiful at this time of night, just before dusk. The lights are beginning to glow as the sky becomes dark, a cool breeze drifting by every now and then to rustle the leaves in the trees. The sunset is stunning tonight, as well, something that distracts you as the car continues to move. 

“Hey!” Daniel calls to you, a wide smile on his face. 

He’d been waiting outside the bar for you; how sweet of him to do. Once you pay your driver, you step out, walking over to meet him after shutting the door. 

“Hi,” Comes your graceful response, reaching out to accept his friendly hug. “Have you been inside?” 

“Not yet; I was waiting for you.” 

Pulling away, it’s easy to see just how happy he is. And you return this, thankful to finally have a friend in this new city. He steps to the side, opening the door for you. You assume it’s a simple, gentlemanly gesture, but think differently when you feel his hand fall to the dip of your back. Eyes widening slightly, you move forward a little quicker, stepping out of his partial hold. 

The establishment is full of patrons, and you expected this, what with it being a Friday night. As you make your way to a hightop table, you notice a few wandering eyes. Men your age stare with a smirk, looking over their shoulders as you pass by. And you have to admit… it feels nice. What girl doesn’t like a little attention? And to not beg for it from Nico felt nice, too. 

“You look nice tonight.” Daniel says, shouting a bit over everyone else. 

“Oh, thank you!” Comes your cheerful response, smoothing your hands over the front of your skirt. You grin; you agree with him. 

“I’m so glad we met,” He takes a seat directly across from you, resting an arm on the table. “I really love your company.” 

To be completely honest, you find this strange. You’d only ever spent time together while on the clock, only having a true phone conversation twice. How can he genuinely enjoy your company that way? How can he say he loves spending time with you when he doesn’t even know you? 

“Oh, you’re too sweet.” You quickly respond, brushing off the possible meaning behind his words. 

“No I mean it; you’re such a joy to be around. Here, let me get us some drinks.”

You’re thankful he changed the topic, especially to that. Immediately, a martini comes to mind, something to help take the edge off. But it only serves to ramp it up. 

“Classy girl,” Daniel says, setting the cocktail before you. 

At this point, his words are making you cringe. Why is he acting like this with you? He didn’t act like this on the phone, and especially not in Nico’s home.

“Thanks.” You say dryly, swirling the olive at the end of your toothpick before sipping some of your drink. 

This time when Daniel sits down, he slides his chair over beside you. There’s already an awkward tension in the air, the thickness of it growing when he invades your space. Swallowing your nerves, you do your best to push on. 

“How um, how are you?” Trying to make conversation, you turn to face him.

“I’m doing so much better now that I’m with you.” This time, he winks, and brazenly, he leans forward. Is he… is he trying to kiss you?!

“Daniel,” You hiss in shock, leaning backward. “What are you doing?!

“What do you mean?” He asks as he leans back, clearly offended. 

“I’m, I… we’re friends.” 

“But you came with me tonight… you said yes to our date.”

“Our date?” Widening your eyes, you suddenly wish you were back at home. Your shrill voice does nothing to pierce through the crowd, making you feel that much more defensive. You feel like if something bad happens, you’ll have nowhere to go, no one to turn to. And suddenly, your breathing begins to pick up. “I thought we were just, I don’t know, hanging out!” 

“We hangout at work!”

“Work is work, Daniel!” You spit back in return. “I can’t believe you thought I wanted this. I’m in a new city and I… I just wanted a friend.” 

“Well, we can be that.” You look up when he says this; maybe this can be fixed. “We can be more than that.”

“Ugh,” You groan, shaking your head. “I don’t want that! Oh my god.” Your hands fly to your face, covering your disappointed, aggravated, and flustered expression.

This isn’t what you expected this night to be, not at all. This was supposed to be fun, a time to relax and just let go, to not worry about chores or schedules or Nico. You wanted a break, but now all you want is to go back to Nico’s home. 

Walking through the garden, Nico eyes his surroundings. He admires the way you’ve decorated the place, both inside and out. The catering you hired is more than adequate, the musicians elegant, and he finds himself admiring the thought of you. This is the second time you’ve impressed him tonight. 

His friends ask about the event, complimenting him on how calming it’s been, yet stimulating in the same sense. He mentions you, only briefly, giving you the credit that you most certainly deserve. In truth, tonight was a test, his biggest one for you yet. And so far, you’ve exceeded his expectations. 

Artists and friends walk throughout the main level of his home, some in the garden as well. Each with a glass in hand, they admire his work, bringing some of their own to display too - only upon Nico’s invitation to do so. He takes his time, chatting quietly with each guest, admiring their work and thanking them for sharing such amazing pieces. His associates are right, this is quite the calming event. Sophisticated, too, just what he’d hoped it would be. 

“Ode to a Nightingale.” 

“Ah,”

“Have you read it?”

“It’s on my list.” A friend of his answers, giving him a grin. “I’ve heard it provokes thought.”

“Indeed. Oh,” He stutters slightly, lowering his glass once he completes a sip. He then holds a finger up to his colleague. “I have a copy you can read. Let me go get it for you.” 

“Nicolás, I couldn’t possibly -”

“Truly it’s no trouble; let me.” Nico insists, a warm smile as he reassures this friend. “What good is literature if it cannot be shared with the world?” 

At this, the man offers an amused laugh, agreeing with him. 

Turning, Nico walks inside, moving swiftly behind his guests as he makes a beeline for the stairs. He’s excited to finally tell someone about this piece. And his friend was right, it did make him think. 

Once he’s in the hallway, he struts down the center rug, intent on going directly into his study; that is, until something small pulls at his attention. Just before he reaches the end of the hall, he passes your room. For some odd reason, the door is cracked, opened just slightly. He wants to respect your privacy, of course, so he walks over to close it. But once his hand is on the knob, his eyes dart up, unable to hold himself back from looking inside. He’s curious about you. 

Nico’s deep, dark eyes peek into your room, the space dim as it sits unlit. It seems different than when he first introduced you to it, messier than the work you do around his home. This confuses him, and without thinking, he pushes the door open to try and understand the situation a bit more. Your bed is unmade, clothes strewn randomly on the floor, books and papers cluttering your desk. When you clean his home, it’s spotless, so why is your room so dirty? Does he truly work you so hard? Or do you just focus on impressing him? 

Now that he’s in here, he figures he might as well explore. Why not get to know you a little more intimately? He doesn’t realize he’s giving into his thoughts, though, the ones he’s been pushing aside. 

Naturally, he goes to look at the papers and books laid out on your desk, as it’s set straight ahead. There’s a stack of them and he picks up the top one, flipping through the pages. You’ve highlighted a few quotes and lines, each one about passion and desire. You long for these feelings; it seems you’re quite the hopeless romantic. He grins, sighing out a chuckle while he reads. As he continues to flip through the pages, he comes across a picture. Turning the book sideways, he finds that it’s a photo of you and two friends. You’re all in your cap and gowns, it must’ve been taken on your graduation day. Bright smiles color each of your faces, but yours is undeniably the brightest. You’re very beautiful, your expressions so joyous and pure. 

Turning, he sees your bed. Your sheets are tossed, pillows disorderly as they lay across the top sheets. Subconsciously, he reaches out. The skin of Nico’s palm meets your bedspread, sliding along the sheets as he walks beside the space where you sleep. He’s gazing down at the piece of furniture, something so simple, so normal. But it’s special now; it’s been marked by you. 

His path leads him to your bathroom, his feet continuing to move through your space. On your sink sits a bottle of perfume, among many other things. The bottle is gorgeously crafted, though, that’s why he notices it first. Acting seemingly of its own accord once again, his hand reaches out, grabbing the bottle and removing the cap. 

“Hm…” He hums after he’s inhaled. It’s your scent, it’s you. A light smell, clean and flowery. 

Walking out of your bathroom, he stumbles upon a small pile of clothes he hadn’t noticed before. He looks down at the garments, furrowing his brows as he takes in the details. A large shirt, one you likely use when going to bed, lays at his feet. His eyes trail across the floor, and then he sees it. Sitting a few mere inches from him are a pair of your used panties, white and cotton; they look soft. And not too far from your underwear is a matching bralette. 

For the first time, Nico wonders what you look like beneath your clothes. What does your body look like with that matching set on? What does it look like with that matching set off? Excitement stirs within him, but just as quickly as that emotion appears, it goes; now replaced with guilt.

What the hell am I doing?

Spinning on his heels, he strides toward your bedroom door. Why did he think it was okay to do this? To invade your privacy like this? He’s a man of morals, how could he let himself act in such a depraved way?

Completely forgetting the book, Nico scurries down the stairs. He just wants to get away from your room, from the situation he created. It feels so inappropriate to him, but something about that excites him. Jesus, he needs to get himself together. 

“Oh,” He stumbles a bit, grabbing onto the handrail. And then, he mutters your name. 

“Hi, um, I’m sorry.” Your response is quick and shaky, doing your best to avoid his eyes. “I’m sorry for crashing your party, I just -”

Cutting yourself off, you sigh, the breath coming out uneven and a little high. This night has gone completely sideways and you have no idea who to talk to about it, but you know you can’t talk to him. At least you shouldn’t; he wouldn’t want to hear about this. But he surprises you.

“Why are you back so early?” 

But Nico doesn’t say it out of concern - of course not. He furrows his brows, thinking how unprofessional this is of you. He’s not at all worrying about your emotional state, not concerned about seeing you home so early in the night. No he’s only worried because… because of how you’re dressed. That’s it. You should be dressed more appropriately if you are to appear in front of his guests. Yes, this is the only reason he’s worried about you. 

“I know I said I wouldn’t come back until later, but it just didn’t, it didn’t go well…”

He doesn’t care that you’re upset, no, not at all. How could he? You’re an employee; then again, he can’t have someone he’s hired be so upset, especially when living in his home. Yes, that’s it, that’s why he invites you up to his study. There’s no other reason for him to spend time with you like this. 

Your boss gulps as he walks past your room, having been inside it mere moments ago. He tries to shake off the feeling he got when staring at your pretty panties, but it zips back inside him the moment he eyes your now closed door. Shivering slightly at the thought, he shakes his head, opening the door to his study for you. With the gesture of his hand he motions you through, and when you step inside, you immediately move to sit where you had just the other night. 

“No,” He says quietly to you, shaking his head as he sits behind his desk. Another motion of his hand, extending it outward. He’s gesturing to the seat in front of him, the one on the other side of his desk. “Please.” 

He notices that the small yellow cardigan you wore out is now buttoned almost to the top. It’s pulled up on both shoulders, too. You’re curling in on yourself, even though you try not to. It almost makes him wince, seeing you like this. You’re usually so lively and kind, so imaginative and helpful.  

Nico clears his throat quietly, folding his hands in his lap as he starts out with, “Is there anything I can do?” It comes out more tender than he intended. Maybe he does care for you. 

You just shake your head, staring down at your nails, picking at them. “I just don’t know what to do. I feel so lonely here.” 

This shocks him. “Lonely?” 

Without raising your head, you nod, pouting slightly. “Daniel was such a nice friend to have, I don’t have any besides him. Not here.” Lifting your shoulders slightly, they then sag as you exhale a sigh. “And now that’s ruined. I have to start all over again.” 

Nico is incredibly confused. 

“I don’t know anyone in this city, besides you.” Shrugging, you take another deep breath. “And obviously we’re not friends.” You then release a brief, almost fake laugh. “You’re just my boss.” 

The longer you talk, the sadder he gets, especially upon hearing that last little bit. Just her boss. He’s just your boss. But isn’t that what he’s been saying all along? You’re just the maid? He’s just your boss? But if that’s the case, and he’s accepted it, why does it hurt so bad coming from your lips? 

“I just wanted a friend, someone to share my time with. And he… he tried to kiss me. I wasn’t ready for that, I didn’t want that.”

Ah, now he’s starting to see. He’s also starting to see some things non-metaphorically, your jewelry, for example. While you speak, his eyes roam your frame, taking your appearance in. There’s a dainty necklace hanging on a chain around your neck, a few earrings in your ears, a couple rings on your fingers. They sparkle, and now that he’s seeing you dressed like this in privacy, he feels his opinion changing. He doesn’t want you to cover up; he finds himself wanting to see more. 

All too quickly, he’s shaken out of his thoughts. Not by you, but by himself. You’re here confiding in him, and all he can think about is your appearance? You’re so much more than that. 

“I’m honestly just over it, the whole dating thing. It’s the same thing over and over again. I’ve been wanting to get away from the whole romantic scene, and the first guy I talk to outside of my hometown immediately wants to be romantic. Can you believe that?”

He can. 

The longer you talk, the more you open up, and Nico’s seeing a side of you he hasn’t experienced before. You seem truly vulnerable, showing your emotions much more than usual. And that makes him happy, not seeing you sad but seeing you open. Maybe you’re starting to trust him, if you don’t already. 

After so long, Nico lights a cigarette, asking if you want one. 

“Oh no, I don’t smoke.”

“Do you mind that I do, little one?” He asks, his lips mumbling around the cigarette as he lights it.

You smile; strangely, you like the look of it. You shake your head. “No.”

Changing the topic, Nico finds himself wanting to know more about you. He also wants to create some distance between you and Daniel. Strong distaste has formed in his stomach over that young man; he doesn’t want you hovering on the details tonight only to make yourself more upset. 

“What is it that you study? Or plan to?” He then asks after inhaling, the smoke billowing from his puckered mouth. 

“Literature.” You answer proudly, happily, and it makes him grin. He likes this. Maybe he can give you his copy of Ode to a Nightingale instead. 

“And hopefully music, too. Though, I can’t really play any instruments. At least, not as beautifully as you.” 

Amidst your chatter, a compliment slips from your lips. In all honesty, you don’t even realize it; but Nico does. It makes him smile, makes him admire you. But he stays quiet, allowing you to continue on. You’re so passionate about this; he finds himself regretting not asking you about it before. 

With a deep breath, he watches you speak, eyes now roaming your face, your features. He notices your shade of blush, how feminine your eyelashes look. Small strands of hair hang around your face, even more so when you look down at your fidgeting hands. He finds this cute, along with the heart-shaped earrings you have on your first piercings. They’re all meaningless things, intricate details that shouldn’t matter, that don’t matter. But regardless of how much he tells himself this, he can’t seem to take his focus away from you. 

“You flatter me.” He says, finally contributing to your conversation. You’d complimented him again, a flustered look coming over your features when you admitted your admiration for his intellect. Nobody without a background as impressive as yours could play the way that you do. 

“It’s true,” You shrug again, glancing down but now smiling. “It’s why I listen. But I shouldn’t, I know that.” And then your eyes dart up, looking directly at him. “And I’m sorry for that.”

Easily, he dismisses this. “If music is what you intend to study, then I encourage you to listen.” 

“Really?”

“Of course.” Taking another puff, he shrugs gently. “Would you like to sit in on a class?” 

“Oh no,” You huff out a nervous laugh. “I don’t think I could ever. I, I wouldn’t know what to do.”

Again, Nico shrugs. “Sit, observe, do what you normally do. Only this time in my presence.” 

And then he winks, something so small you shouldn’t even notice. But you do, and it sends a shock wave up your spine. For some reason, your face begins to run hot, a timid smile forming on your lips. 

“Maybe.”

Going to bed that night is easy for you. Nico missed two hours of his own party, but he didn’t mind. Not a single bit. He was overjoyed to help you relax, putting you at ease. He’s not just your boss, he can be your friend, too. 

Chapter Three: Intrigued

[x-chubby-reader]

Oh MY GOD what about Bakugou, kirishima, and sero who get hit by a quirk who turns them into a lil toddler or whatever and they’ve got the biggest crush on their chubby/plus size classmate 🥺🥺

A/N - I literally love this idea so much, thanks to @fandom-fander for helping out with this headcannon.

Not Prof Read

Lowercase Intentional

Cursing

Toddler!Bakugo, Kirishima, and Sero x Plus size reader

Bakugo

aizawa sure as hell didn't feel like dealing with the angry pomeranian in minature form

he decided to leave the boy with the class and let them decide among themselves on who should watch the little firecracker for the day

extra credit anyone?

everyone immediately pinned the responsibility on you

kirishima, he didn't feel like getting screeched at by a small bakugo and needed to apparently go study

he also knew that bakugo had a fondness for you in his teenage form, so why not see if he still has it

fr little bakugo pretends to hate your guts

somehow this little toddler has the most hurtful insults

“you can't even get a boyfriend? that's pretty sad.”

suddenly choking out a child is okay

do it… no one has to know how it happened

even though he had pretended to hate you, he still kept trying to show off to you 

you decided to take him out on a little bike/tricycle ride? homeboy flipped it trying to show off how fast he could go and then proceeded to complain about scraping his knee

hey at least he got your attention

he is a literal leash kid fight me oh my god

bakugo will simply run away

you expected him to listen? oh you're in for a surprise

the only option that you give him is to either wear the embarrassing monkey pack or to hold your hand

he immediately grabs your hand and is literally so giddy and its adorable my lord-

smiles for days my heart i can’t-

he may seem all happy and nice, but that can flip in a minute

he’s the biggest brat sometimes and you are literally this close to punting him across the room

you don't get him something that he wants? little pomeranian boy will turn into a velociraptor child in an instant

the decimals that that kids voice can reach up to is kind of impressive not going to lie

“no bakugo, you can't have that right now maybe later-”

screech

thankfully he tires himself out quick enough to set him down for a nap

but nothing is ever simple, is it?

he wont go to sleep without you though, claiming that there are monsters and he needs to know where you are so he can protect you

no matter how many times you had explained to him that there weren't any monsters around, you slowly succumbed to his pleas

almost feeling bad for him, he just looked so serious about how you could get hurt that it made you feel bad

you didn't notice how much taking care of a kid took out of you until now

you had made a mental note to apologize to your mom for having to deal with you when you were younger later

As soon as you settled down on the couch with the toddler laying on top of you, you almost instantaneously passed out

oh boy were you in for a surprise when you woke up to a teen bakugo, still curled into your torso

he looked up to you after feeling you stir, he almost had a smirk on his face before burying his head back  into you 

mostly to hide the redness spreading over his face, he wasn’t going to admit that he was blushing

no way in hell

he just mumbled a “later” before his breaths softened into a steady pace

yeah, you may be stuck here for a bit

Kirishima 

you were there for the whole thing

red-top had pushed you out of the way of an incoming quirk blast and suffered the consequences

he became young again, almost too young

you felt bad

and who wouldn’t

so of course you took it upon yourself to watch him until the effects wore off

the thing you learned about him was that he was an even touchy-er child

homeboy just wanted to be held all the time

just climbing up and latching himself onto your calf

it was adorable but hard to walk with

If you pick him up, you’ve basically sworn an oath with the devil himself

you cannot put him down 

ever 

he gives the most pitiful looks when you do and drags his feet when you walk

he also wont leave you alone

so curious in whatever your doing at that exact moment

and he is impressed by everything you do

“what are you doing?”

“reading”

“wow so cool!”

a bug came in through the window and he screamed

you walked in all nonchalant, grabbed your shoe, and smacked that some of a bitch into a next dimension

he lit up omfg

“wow y/n, that was so manly!”

you brought him in to class since it had been a school day and were too afraid to tell aizawa about the incident

the girls were literally all over him

i mean, who wouldn’t be all over an adorable and friendly (looking at you bakugo) kid?

and the pebble boy was lapping up the attention like a thirsty dog on a hot day

you never expected him to act like this

shy maybe, but then again he was pretty outgoing in his teenage form

he was grinning from ear to ear

literally posing like a mini body builder and making little huffing noises

even you couldn’t help it, letting a little aww out like most of the other girls

this had been causing a slight disturbance to the class

so the whole going to school thing was pointless as aizawa sent the two of you home anyways

he is already a tired dad, he dosen’t need to be dealing with a toddler right now

putting the little strongman on your back you began to walk

you had been hoping that the effects would wear off in a few more hours 

but nothing ever goes to plan dose it?

while you had been walking, you noticed a significant weight increase, but just decided to ignore it

hey you were more sturdy and thicc, you wern’t no pussy, why stop all of a sudden because of the extra weight?

the only single thing that had alerted you to kiri being fully back was the whisper in your ear

instead of a sqeaky and mousy voice, you heart a more smooth and even comment

“hey stranger”

girl you dropped him and ran, him having to catch up to you

he has the audacity to give you a heart attack, he better suck it up

Sero

this was the same situation as bakugo, aizawa just didn’t want to deal with the kid

and especially a kid who kept mixing up two languages

he really was just so one

aizawa gave him the option to go to anyone

of course he ran straight to you, clinging onto your calf, as that was as high as he could reach

hey you looked the most inviting and least scary

he was literally terrified of bakugo and almost started to bawl is eyes out when he went near him

though he calm down slightly when he went down to get to a similar height as him. 

why wouldn’t you take the opportunity to watch a cute little kid and skip class

hey, aizawa said whoever watched him got extra credit

but there soon was a slight problem that you noticed

well not really a problem, but more of a hurdle

with sero being raised in a household that spoke both english and spanish, he started to mix the two, not knowing any better

he would be asking for “leche” and you would just stand there trying to understand with your limited vocab

just the loading circle above your head whenever he started to talk

but you managed with google translate and going off of the vast amount of spanish soap operas you watched at 3 am once a week

surprisingly, he was a very artistic kid

at least every ten minutes he would walk over to you and hand you a squiggly picture of a flower, you, or him and you holding hands

and he would just giggle before running away to make another

bro heart go melt 

being pre occupied with some papers that the father teacher had sent home with you, sero couldn’t get your attention

he might of forgotten your name and got stuck in a predicament

then the most rational thing popped into his head

well his dad called his mom “mi amor” and you and his mom were both pretty ladies

it made total sense to him so he went with it

“hey...”

nothing

“hey...”

nothing again

“hey... mi amor~”

your head shot up immediately

since he noticed that the name had gotten your attention, he just started using it

when he had shifted to being a teen again, the two of you never mentioned the name again

until a few days later when he was back to normal in class

homeboy was trying to get your attention and the multiple taps on the shoulder weren't cutting it

he got an idea

“hey... mi amor~”

yep that got you immediately

and he still uses that nickname for you

[gorillaism]

Yooo! Could I please ask a headcanon for the Band having a s/o or crush that's bilingual? (If you want a specific language: Portuguese but its ok if you want to keep it general)

Thank you a lot 🤗💖

gorillaz with a s/o that’s bilingual ( separate + ace )

a/n : tysm for requesting!! <3 i didn’t know if you wanted ace as well, so i just added him too 🏃‍♀️💨

reader : gender neutral

warnings : a little bit of flirts, tiny swearing

— 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐭 ( 2D ) 𝐩𝐨𝐭

this boy wishes he were you 😩

stu thinks that you’re so cool that you can speak another language besides english. he even asks you to teach him. poor boy cannot pronounce the words right.

stuart is literally so dedicated about learning another language though. you forgot about stu wanting to speak another language for months and months, but you hear him actually say a couple sentences.

you both mock murdoc in another language so he can’t decipher. 👀

he cannot say swears in another language though. he just tilts his head with an adorable look and goes-

“what does that mean??”

since noodle is literally fluent in all languages, she teases you behind stuart’s back and relentlessly floods you with sentences in another language such as-

“you and stuart are a very, very cute couple.”

“when is the baby coming?”

“bleh, i did not need to hear that.”

stuart isn’t fluent as much as noodle. he constructs baby sentences. so, with that being said, he will constantly ask you what you and noodle talk about.

i’m 90% sure that as soon as stu becomes fluent, after a week of not speaking the language, he’s already forgetting how to say a lot of words.

— 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐨𝐜 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐬

okay, so murdoc isn’t white. we should all know by now right?

he’s probably bilingual too and can speak spanish, but only when he wants to confuse people. maybe he’ll straight up call someone an “uptight prick” or “a pain in the arse” with a fake smile and hope they don’t understand him (which most of time, they never know).

he thinks that the fact the you’re bilingual is very cool, but he doesn’t take the time to learn your second language. he has no patience at all for that.

murdoc flirts with you though 🕳👨‍🦯

“mmm, you sound rather sexy when you talk like that y’know...”

he may not care enough to learn the language, but just for you, he will learn how to say pick-up lines and suggestive sentences.

if you ever try and tease him, his secret weapon is noodle. he will remember key words and report back to her and force her to decipher.

“they said something like ___, ___, and ___. what the hell does that mean??”

“one of those words is translated to ‘annoying’, so figure it out yourself!”

yeah, murdoc would only learn the language unless he has to (i.e. you say mean things so he of course has to learn how to surprise you and retaliate).

— 𝐧𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐥𝐞

you both gossip since she’s fluent in every language!

you talk about the weather, cute clothes, how annoying murdoc is, etc. <3

she thinks you sound adorable when you rant about your day in another language. noodle absolutely wonders why people make your day go bad when you’re literally a precious jellybean to her.

if you mix multiple languages, she’s fawning over you.

“that was adorable!”

“what was?”

“you mixed languages! do it again, please??”

murdoc will always barge into rooms without knocking and will judge you for whatever you do, so when watching tv, you always make sure it’s in a different language rather than english so murdoc won’t know what’s going on.

you and noodle mayyybeee decide to prank others by telling them a sentence in another language means something entirely different in english, but they just won’t know.

because of this, 2D has called an interviewer an “ugly, rancid cow” on accident that was meant for murdoc but 2D was also present in the room and he believed you two nonetheless.

— 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐥 𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐬

russel probably treats you just the same as anybody else at first. it’s just another cool thing you can do, which he is super in awe of, but he doesn’t go out of his way to tell you that that is wildly amazing.

after a bad day, he’ll probably want to curl up in bed with you and want you to cheer him up in another language, and then ask you what you said.

if you have bilingual friends, he will honestly get a little jealous and that will probably be his motivation to learn your other languages. he doesn’t want to be a third wheel!

russel will probably underestimate learning another language and get discouraged since it’s taking so long, so please cheer him up!

“(y/n), it’s taking so long. it’s probably going to take me months just to hold a conversation!”

“don’t say that! i really think you’re improving, honey.”

please give russel some one-on-one lessons. he just wants to spend time with you and make you proud :(

when he becomes a novice in speaking another language, he will definitely spin you around in triumph <3

— 𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫

you being able to speak more than one language makes ace a little more than jealous...

he feels very insecure. he just thinks of himself as a guy who plays bass and does mild crime. that’s literally it. although, ace would never tell you this.

ace likes the thought of you teaching him. it would make him feel better to know he can do more than 2 whole things.

“really?? you’ll teach me, toots??”

“of course!”

HE IS SO BAD AT PRONOUNCING WORDS LIKE STU EXCEPT A TAD BIT WORSE sos please help him

it took him like a month for him to hold up a conversation that was five sentences worth bc he can’t pronounce anything properly 😩

he has to leave sticky notes on things so he remembers what they’re called in another language. he labels a coffee maker, this bass, even some of your clothes... he needs all the help he can get-

will never tell you this but he thinks your voice when you talk in another language sounds hot soothing

he is a person who finds it funny to learn how to say “poop” and “pee” in another language 🚊🤸‍♀️

[study-coffee-chicago]

Season of Med: Season 6: It’s Not Okay (A Halstead Brother + Halstead Sister Imagine)

A/N: Thank you for reading and don't forget to reblog and comment! I love hearing what you guys have to say and what your reactions to my imagines are!

Your age: 19

Jay's age: 33

Will's age: 35

Like any college student who was procrastinating studying for an exam and writing a paper, you decided to make a dessert. Because, hey, studying is a lot better when you have something sweet to eat, right?

So, you made strawberry-lime blondies. They were supposed to be strawberry-lemon, but you didn't have any lemon juice and you didn't want to go to the store, so you used what you had on hand. You used frozen strawberries (which you defrosted in the microwave), and mixed them into the batter, and then baked them, so they took a little longer than expected to bake.

The final product was something like the texture of a lemon bar instead of a cakey texture, but they tasted good, so that was all that mattered.

Then, like any procrastinating college student and good little sister, you went to the district and delivered some to Intelligence and then went to Med to deliver some to Will and the other doctors on nurses on shift today.

You got a rapid covid test and went through all the decontamination protocols and then were finally allowed to go inside. If people at the hospital didn't know you, there was no way you'd be allowed in because, hello, there's a pandemic going on!

Will had been adamant about you not coming to the hospital as much as you used to, but you figured he'd be fine with it this one time because you came bearing treats.

"Y/N?" Maggie asked when she saw you.

"Hey, Maggie," you said. "Yeah, it's me."

"Why are you here? Not that I'm not pleased to see you, but I thought Will banned you from here?" she asked.

"Technically, he didn't ban me. He just said not to come here as much as I used to. And, I haven't been here since I got that glass in my leg helping at Mama's Garcia's when we had that outbreak of necrotizing fasciitis."

"Yeah, it's like that quarantine predicted the future."

"You're telling me. Closing stuff down, quarantines, but hey, at least it's not as bad as it was earlier in the year."

"Yeah, at least there's a vaccine and rapid testing." She motioned to the glass container you were carrying. "What's that?"

"Well, I was procrastinating studying--"

"Y/N, you should just get it over with. You'll be less stressed then," Maggie laughed.

"I know, I know. But then you guys wouldn't get these awesome strawberry-lime bars I made. You want first pick?"

Maggie smiled. "Set them in the doctor's lounge and I'll be in, in a bit and pass on the message."

"Thanks, Maggie. Page Will to meet me in there?"

"Will do."

***

You were waiting in the doctor's lounge, just scrolling through your phone when you heard the walkie-talkie go off on the counter.

"This is Nurse April Sexton from the Covid ward," she started. "I need a Spanish translator down here."

"Copy that," you heard Maggie say. About a minute passed and then you heard Maggie again. "Nearest translator is thirty minutes away because all the others don't want to be in the Covid ward."

"You're serious?" you heard April ask, frustration oozing out of her voice. "This is ridiculous! It's their job! We're safe. Gown them up and get one in here."

Maggie sighed. "April, I understand your frustration, but most of our translators are volunteers, so we can't force them to put their health at risk if they don't think it's safe for them."

You got up and picked up the walkie-talkie just as Will walked in.

"Hey, Maggie said you made--"

"This is Y/N Halstead. I can translate. Just get me down there and I can do it," you said as you pushed down the button on the walkie-talkie.

"Y/N, what are you talking about?" Will asked.

But, you barely heard him; you were just focused on Maggie's and April's responses.

"April, sit tight," you heard Maggie say. "I'm gonna figure this out one way or another."

"Y/N!" Will practically yelled once you finally set the walkie-talkie back down. "What's going on?"

"Well, I came in to give you guys these strawberry-lime bars I made and I know you said I shouldn't come in here as much anymore, but I'm covid negative and so are all of you guys and I did all the protocol needed to come in--"

"I'm not worried about the dessert," Will said as he put a hand up to stop you from continuing to talk. "Translating?"

"April said they needed someone in the Covid ward and no one else will go in there. And I speak Spanish and I'm here so I figured--"

"You figured you'd go into an area of the hospital filled with a deadly virus with multiple variants? Not to mention, the vaccine might not be safe against every variant there is!"

Will threw his hands up in frustration just as Maggie entered. In her hands, she had a piece of paper.

"Y/N, if you want to become a volunteer translator, I just need you to quickly sign this, saying you're just doing it until the actual translator gets here since it was an emergency situation."

"What? I'm confused," you said.

"Are you fully bilingual?" she asked.

"I don't think I'll ever consider myself fully bilingual, so no."

"Okay, typically our volunteers have at least 40 hours of training. They used to be unpaid volunteer positions, but because of covid, we started making them paid positions. No certain amount you have to work, but if you were a volunteer for the hospital, you'd make at least $12 an hour. This paper just says that you're translating because of a staffing emergency and that you're unpaid and haven't had training, so you're not fully bilingual in medical terminology."

"So, will I get sued if something happens because I translate something wrong?"

"Nope. This covers both the hospital and you. I just need you to sign it."

"Maggie, there's no way I'm letting her into the Covid ward!" Will exclaimed.

"Will, she's an adult; she can make her own decisions. And, she'd only be there for about twenty minutes, max of half an hour, until our regular translator gets here. She'd be fully gowned up and everything."

Will sighed. "Fine. You page me and tell me what time she went in there and what time she gets out. If she's in there over thirty minutes, I'll gown up and drag her out myself."

You signed the paper and handed it back to Maggie. Then, you turned back to Will. "Not that I needed your permission, but thanks. Enjoy the strawberry-lime bars." You turned back to Maggie. "Can you show me where to go?"

"Follow me." And then the two of you exited the doctor's lounge and headed towards the Covid ward, leaving Will silently cursing the Halstead stubbornness.

***

You walked into the Covid ward fully gowned up to see April holding a phone on Facetime...and a girl who was probably in her early 20s on a ventilator.

You heard Spanish coming through the phone.

You froze. It was someone's mom on the phone. A mother looking at her daughter, not totally knowing what was going on because of a language barrier.

April motioned you over and you shook the shock and cobwebs from your brain.

"Hola, soy una intérprete. Me llamo Y/N. ¿Está la máma de...?" (Hello, I'm a translator. My name is Y/N. Are you the mom of...?) you trailed off, looking to April to know the patient's name.

"Patient's name is Yesenia. Her mom's name is Alejandra," April filled you in.

"Okay, Alejandra," you started, "su hija, Yesenia--" (Your daughter, Yesenia--)

"¡Mi cielito!" she yelled.

April looked at you. "My baby," you translated. "Can you tell me what's going on so I can translate and reassure her that her daughter will be okay? She's gonna be okay, right?"

April sighed. "She's on a ventilator because her lungs aren't working properly and she's having a lot of trouble breathing because she has covid-19."

"But, she's gonna be okay, right?" you asked. You did not want to have to tell this mother that her child could die.

"Y/N, a ventilator is usually the last option. I don't know. I'm hoping she'll pull through, but I don't know. She's strong. I pushed for her to get this vent so that she could have a chance. She has a chance."

"So, you want me to tell her mom that we don't know?"

She nodded. "Yes."

You took a deep breath, trying to hold back tears. Maybe this was another reason why Will didn't want you in here. He wasn't just worried about the virus, but he was also worried that you would see all the suffering that the virus caused, both physical and emotional/mental suffering.

You could do this; you were just translating. You'd process what you had seen once you got out of here and were alone.

"Yesenia está usando un ventilador para que pueda respirar porque sus pulmones no está trabajando correctamente por el Covid-19." (Yesenia is on a ventilator so that she can breathe because her lungs aren't working properly because of Covid-19.)

"¿Vaya a sobrevivir?" (Is she going to survive?) Alejandra cried.

"Ella es muy fuerte, pero no sabemos. Lo siento," (She's very strong, but we don't know. I'm sorry.) you answered.

You were cut off by Alejandra wailing. They were wails of fear and worry. They were wails of losing her child. No child should die before their parent(s), that much you did know.

"No tengo más información para usted en este momento," (I don't have more information for you at this moment) you answered. "Lo siento. Lo siento mucho." (I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.)

***

"Hey." You jumped when someone put a hand on your shoulder. You had found a secluded spot at an abandoned nurses station a floor below the Covid ward.

You quickly wiped away your tears and turned around to face Will.

All you did was grab onto his scrubs, not caring if he had just got out of meeting with a patient or not and hug him.

"Oh, okay," he said and wrapped his arms around you. "It's okay, it's okay."

You pulled away. "But it's not okay!" you yelled, and then quickly quieted just in case other people could somehow hear. There weren't many people down here except for the occasional maintenance worker, but just in case. "It's not okay, Will! I just translated for a mother and I had to tell her that her daughter was on a ventilator and we didn't know if she was going to make it. It's not okay. None of this shit is okay. None of it."

You hugged him again and continued to cry after you got all your words out.

"I know, I know it sucks," Will soothed while rubbing your back. "Trust me, I've been on the frontlines since all of this started. It's hell sometimes. But, you just gotta separate your work and personal life. You go home, and you forget about this."

"But, this isn't even my job! God, I should've listened to you and not even went in there. But I'm too damn stubborn to listen."

"Well, you got one thing right: you are stubborn. All three of us are."

"Yeah. Thanks, Mom and Dad," you said sarcastically.

Will sighed. He knew he had to ask you this question. "You said none of this is okay. What do you mean?"

"You're usually the fun brother," you grumbled and pulled away. "Jay's usually the shrink."

"I know. And you don't have to answer me. I was just wondering what you meant by it is all."

"I just mean if everyone would be smart and listen to science is all," you answered.

"Yeah, we all wish that, Short Stack. So, I guess now's not a good time to tell you that April said that you did amazing and that you should be an actual volunteer translator at Med, then?"

"What?" You furrowed your eyebrows. You weren't bilingual or fluent; you hadn't thought that your Spanish was that good.

"April said that you were really good and told me to talk to you about talking to Maggie to get more information about becoming an actual volunteer translator. If that's something you want to do, talk to her. You can always say that you don't want to work in the Covid ward and you could always work in mostly recovery rooms so that you're not surrounded by blood and all the craziness in the ED and ICU." But, what he meant by that was that you wouldn't see all the suffering and death that happened in the ED and ICU.

"Okay, I'll talk to her. And, I think I can be in the ED...but only days that you're on shift because then you can tell if I'm freaking out and yell at me to take a break and come back later."

Will scoffed. "Like you'll actually listen to me."

"Hey, you never know. Miracles happen."

***

A few weeks later, you were running around the ED at the end of shift after finally finishing up translating for a family with a little girl who had broken her arm. Will had already scrubbed out and was in his street clothes waiting for you to be finished. Typically you were done before him because, hello, emergency department. Doctors don't just leave when the shift ends; they leave when the patient is stable or out of surgery. So, you typically would just work on homework in the doctor's lounge while you waited for Will. But, today he finished before you for a change.

You started walking towards the doctor's lounge but then decided that you'd better go to the bathroom before you left. Will had waited half an hour, what was another few minutes anyway?

You went to the bathroom and then started on your way to the doctor's lounge. To do this, you had to pass the nurses' station. You knew from earlier that day that there was a package of Will's trial meds that needed to be returned (you had stopped to have a quick chat with Doris before taking your lunch break when Maggie and Will came up and began talking about the trial meds).

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Natalie standing at the counter, right in front of where the trial meds were. You kept walking but continued to glance at her every so often.

So, when she took the meds and placed them in her coat pocket, you saw.

Shit, you didn't know what to do. You obviously kept walking, but did you tell Will? Did you not tell Will? Would Natalie get fired if you told? Would she lose her medical license if you told?

So, when you walked into the doctor's lounge and told Will you were ready, you grabbed your backpack from his locker and the two of you left without you telling him anything.

You rode in the passenger seat of Will's car on the way to his house. How this worked was that every day you had to volunteer at the hospital when he was on shift (which, it had only happened once that you volunteered when he wasn't on shift since you could only work second shift due to your school schedule and having zoom classes in the mornings), you'd go to his apartment the night before. Then, you'd spend the night and do your classes at his apartment and then go to work. Typically, you'd also go stay at his apartment after you volunteered as well because sometimes,  this work was emotionally draining having to explain things to families and you didn't usually like to drive in that state. Plus, this arrangement gave Jay and Hailey two full, uninterrupted nights to whatever they wanted with each other.

You kept replaying the scene in your head. Natalie picking up the pills, placing them in her pocket. Natalie picking up the pills, placing them in her pocket. Natalie picking up the pills, placing them in her pocket...

It was like it was on a never-ending loop.

You were leaning towards not telling Will, but you knew that if you told the truth, your conscience would be clear. What if Natalie's mom, Carol, had some weird allergic reaction to the medication and they couldn't figure out what caused it because this medication wasn't in her chart? What if it made her worse off than she was before? You knew Will's trial meds were working out well because of the snippets you heard when you were volunteering at the hospital, but what if Carol was an outlier and something seriously bad happened to her because of the medication and no one knew what she was taking except for Natalie?

But, what if Natalie lost her job? What if she lost her medical license? All her hard work through medical school and residency and her reputation as a doctor would be gone just because of one thing.

You weighed the pros and cons in your head.

And you decided.

A woman's life was more important than any job, license, or reputation.

"Will," you started nervously. "I need to tell you something."

"Okay, shoot," he said nonchalantly, not knowing the truth-bomb that was about to come his way.

"You know those trial meds you needed to send back?" you asked.

"Yeah, what about them?" Will had no idea why you were asking him about trial meds because you had no experience in the medical field whatsoever, but he figured he'd let you ask whatever drug question you had and answer it to the best of his ability.

"Well, when I was done for the day, I went to the bathroom, and then to get to the doctor's lounge, I had to walk by the nurses' station. And, when I was walking by it, I saw...uh, I saw..."

"Y/N," Will began gently, "what did you see?"

"I saw Natalie pocketing the trial meds!"

"Natalie Manning?" he asked, not believing that his ex-fiancee would do something like that.  Sure, she and Will had both done some shady shit during their time at Med, but nothing like that.

"What other Natalie do I know there?"

"You're lying!" Will accused...which, was totally out of character for him. But, this is Natalie and despite not being together, he'd still do anything for her. "It had to have been someone else, someone who looked like Natalie."

"No, Will, it was her! I wouldn't lie about this!"

"God, are you still so pissed that we didn't get back together that you're going to jeopardize her entire career?"

"No! I saw--"

"Whatever you saw, Y/N, it wasn't Natalie. She wouldn't do this."

"Her mom's sick! People do crazy shit when people they love are suffering."

"Yeah? Well, not Natalie."

"Will, I'm telling the truth! I swear to God, hell, I swear on Mom's grave that I'm telling the truth!" you yelled.

"Don't lie on Mom's grave!" he yelled back.

He turned down a side street. This wasn't the normal way you took to get from the hospital to his apartment.

"Where are we going?" you asked.

"I'm bringing you back to Jay's. I can't believe you'd lie about something like this."

"I'm not--"

"Save it, Y/N."

***

You were drowning. Will was barely talking to you and you had to lie to Jay about why you weren't staying at Will's when you had to volunteer anymore. Your best friend, Emma, had decided that she didn't want to be friends with you anymore because she was "in a new season in her life". You hadn't even seen her since August when she went off to school in Michigan! Whatever the hell this "new season" was, she didn't mention it to you, nor did she even think you warranted a phone call to talk over this decision. All you got was a fucking text.

So, when Hailey walked into your apartment (without Jay because he was quickly grabbing takeout and had just told Hailey to go to his place and let herself in) and heard quiet sobs coming from your room, she got worried.

"Y/N?" she asked as she softly knocked on your door. "Is everything okay in there?"

You shook your head, no, but she couldn't see you. You didn't care; you just didn't answer her.

"Y/N, I need you to talk to me. Are you okay?"

"No! Just...just go away, okay? I don't wanna talk about it. Everyone leaves anyway, so just leave me alone, Hailey!"

You knew it was harsh, but you were angry. You weren't angry at Hailey, not one bit of this anger was directed towards her, but she was the first person you had talked to since Emma had sent you that text. So, she was the one who received the brunt of your anger.

So, Hailey did what she thought was best: she walked away. She'd talk to Jay when he got home, see if he could get through to you. You had been crying before she got to the apartment, so whatever it was, she didn't think you were mad at her...at least, she hoped you weren't mad at her.

***

Fifteen minutes later, Jay was back. He barely had enough time to set the bags of takeout on the counter before Hailey told him that she had heard you crying.

"Did she tell you anything?" he asked his girlfriend.

"No, she just told me to go away and that everyone leaves anyway, so to just leave her alone."

Jay ran a hand down his face. "Oh, man. It's gonna be a rough night."

"Why? Do you know what's going on?"

"No, I don't. But, I dunno, if she's sobbing and saying everyone leaves, something happened."

He started walking towards your room, Hailey in tow. When he got there, he put his ear to the door. He didn't hear full-on sobbing like Hailey had said she'd heard, but he did hear some whimpers and some sniffling.

He knocked.

"Short Stack?" he asked quietly. "Can me and Hailey come in? We're worried about you."

You stood up off your bed and wiped your tears. But, the minute you started to wipe them away, it's like you were hit with all of this all over again and more tears came.

You walked up to your bedroom door and opened it.

Without giving Jay any time to react, you hugged him and started to cry into his chest.

Once your sobs finally died down a few minutes later, you made your way over to your bed and put your head in your hands. Jay and Hailey followed. Jay sat next to you and Hailey sat to him.

Jay put on a hand on your back and rubbed up and down. "What's going on, Y/N?"

"Em- Emma and- and Will and school and- ugh! What's not going on?" you practically yelled the last part.

"Okay," Jay said, trying to quickly process everything you had just said. "You said Emma. Let's start there. What's going on with her?"

"She doesn't want to be friends anymore!"

"What?" both he and Hailey asked at the same time. They knew how close the two of you were and how, even though Emma went off to college, you still texted and hung out when she came back over Thanksgiving and Christmas break.

You opened your phone. "Read the texts. Listen to the audio message." You handed your phone to Jay and Hailey.

Jay and Hailey read the first text.

...don't believe I can be a good friend to you... can't be a good friend to you the way you deserve... I wish you the best in life...

Then, they read your responses.

What's going on? Did Tanner break up with you? I wanna help with whatever it is.

Next, was an audio message from Emma.

They listened to it.

Her boyfriend, Tanner, cheated on her a month and a half ago and she's still processing that...a lot's going on...she's entering a new season in her life...

There really was no concrete reason. And that's what pissed you the fuck off the most. You weren't the one who was with her boyfriend behind her back! Hell, you met him once and weren't even in the same state as him! Apparently, she decided that this new season in her life (whatever the fuck that was), did not include you and she didn't even have the human decency to explain why or how she came to this decision or try and work it with you...if you had even done something wrong in the first place.

"I'm sorry, kiddo," Jay said and pulled you into a hug.

You quickly wiped your runny nose and then pulled away. "You heard the message. She didn't even give me a concrete reason and that's what hurts the most!" you cried. "Did I do something wrong? Am I just such a fucking shitty person that everyone leaves me? Maybe I just shouldn't have friends because everyone leaves anyway."

Typically, Jay would've told you to watch the f-bombs you were dropping, but you were hurting, so he let it slide.

"What do you mean everyone leaves anyway?" he asked softly.

"Mom and Dad are dead! You left for a while. Emma left and she's been my best friend for years! No explanation at all! Erin left. Gabby left. Natalie's probably gonna leave. I'm just waiting for Hailey to leave at this point. Will hasn't talked to me in weeks!" All of this came rushing out without you even thinking about it.

"Hey," Hailey said softly. "I'm not leaving, Me and your brother, well, we're good together. And, I'm pretty sure we're always gonna be good. So, you don't have to worry about me leaving, okay?"

You nodded, not having the energy to talk anymore...especially after you just said everything that's been swirling around in your head for the past couple of hours.

"What's this about Will? He hasn't been talking to you?" Jay asked, his overly-protective-older-brother senses tingling. You nodded again. "Why?"

"It's nothing," you answered.

"It's something if it's making you so upset."

If this cop thing somehow didn't work out for Jay, he should be a therapist.

You sighed. You knew he wasn't going to let this go, so it was best to get it over with.

"One day, I finished translating and then I went to the bathroom. After, when I was walking to the doctor's lounge to meet Will..." You paused and took a deep breath. Once you said it, there was no turning back. "I saw Natalie steal a bottle of Will's trial meds. She put them in her pocket."

Jay and Hailey shared a look. They both knew this was illegal, but Hailey didn't want to make her boyfriend's brother hate her, so she gave Jay a look that told him to handle it.

"He thinks I'm lying," you said.

"I'm sure he doesn't think that," Jay assured you. "He's probably just shocked."

"No. He does. He said that."

Jay closed his eyes, willing himself not to pick up his phone and cuss out his older brother then and there. He opened his eyes and took a deep breath. "I know Will's working right now, but when he gets done later tonight, I'll call him and talk to him, okay?"

You nodded. "Okay."

"Now, tamales from Mama Garcia's are getting cold. We'll eat while watching a movie. Your pick, Y/N."

***

"We'll just get some preliminary tests going, give Dr. Young a head start," Will said when he started to treat Carol, Natalie's mother. "Remind me what medications she's on?" he asked Natalie.

"What?" Natalie asked. She was hoping and praying Will wouldn't find out that she stole the trial meds. That would screw up her whole career and jeopardize Will's entire drug trial with Kender.

"I assume she's on a beta-blocker?" Will asked.

"Yes, uh..." Don't mention the trial meds. Don't mention the trial meds. "Metoprolol 25 milligrams twice daily, plus Lasix the same, and rosuvastatin, I believe 10 milligrams once a day," she answered. Calm, cool, and collected, like she had done this a hundred times.

"And don't forget the new pill you gave me," Carol butted in. "The one that's supposed to make my heart pump."

"New one?" Will asked.

"Yes, I put her on a fish oil supplement," Natalie answered. "That's all."

"No," Carol protested. "It's a little blue pill."

Will grit his teeth. His trial meds helped people's hearts pump. His trial meds were little blue pills.

"Natalie, can I speak to you for a moment?" he asked, trying his best to keep his voice calm. "In private."

"I don't think that's really necessary, Will."

"Oh, I believe it is."

"Honey," Carol began, "if Will needs to speak with you, go speak with him. I'll be fine on my own for a few minutes."

Natalie sighed. There's no way she was getting out of this one.

***

"You are dosing your mother with an untested clinical trial drug, Natalie, without supervision or monitoring," Will began, trying his best to keep his anger at bay. "We don't know how the drug interacts with an LVAD. It could kill her. You need to come clean right now."

"Please," Natalie pleaded. "I was desperate."

"Yeah, and I might have ruined a relationship because of you," he scoffed. "God, I can't believe I believed you were the better person over my own sister."

"What? Will, what are you talking about?"

"Y/N. She saw you take those trial drugs. She told me she did. But, I accused her of lying because I didn't think you would ever do something like this! Something that could put both our jobs, and this hospital's credibility at risk! And, I haven't talked to Y/N in weeks because of this." He paused. "Now, I need to go make a phone call."

Then, Will turned around and left, leaving Natalie to wonder whether he was calling you to make things right or Goodwin to get her fired.

***

You couldn't sleep. You wanted to sleep, God you really wanted to sleep, to escape today, to escape the hell that had been the past few weeks, but you just couldn't. Tears stung your eyes in the dark of your bedroom. But you didn't want to cry. Not again. You had done enough crying for one day.

So, you looked at the time on your phone and saw three missed calls from Will. You must've dozed off for at least half an hour when you thought you hadn't or else you would've answered the calls. Or maybe you wouldn't have because it was Will. Oh well. You didn't have the energy to talk to him right now, nor did you even want to.

So, you got up and went to the bathroom and then got a glass of water.

But, what you didn't expect to see when you were getting said glass of water was Hailey, sitting on the couch on her laptop.

"Hey," she said softly as you were drinking your water. You walked closer to the couch to be able to hear her and see what she was doing. It looked like she was reading a book online. "Can't sleep?" she asked.

"No," you replied just above a whisper. "And I wanna cry, but I don't. And I think I dozed off, but now I can't sleep and I just want to sleep to forget this entire day even happened," you explained.

"Well, my insomnia kicked in, so if you want some company, I'll be right here." She paused thoughtfully. "Actually, I'll be right back. I think I have something that might help."

She quietly walked out of the living room and then came back.

She handed you a book and a pack of markers.

"It's an adult coloring book," she answered. "Sometimes, when the job's a little too intense, I put on soothing music and do this. It helps me relax so that I can fall asleep sometimes."

"You think it'll help?" you asked skeptically. You didn't know how coloring was supposed to make you sleepy.

"It's worth a shot."

"Okay," you whispered defeatedly. It's not like anything else had helped. Maybe this would.

"Want some music?" she asked.

"I guess," you replied.

So, she put on a playlist of lo-fi beats.

And, you guessed she was somewhat right about the coloring and the music. It took four coloring pages, lots of songs, and two hours, but you finally felt tired enough to go back to bed.

And when you did, three minutes after getting comfortable in your bed with all your blankets covering you and relishing in that heavy, comfy feeling, you fell asleep. Finally.

***

You woke up at noon the next day, and couldn't care less that you missed your first online lecture. You assumed that Hailey and Jay were at work because you knew that if Jay were home, he probably would've woken you up and asked "Don't you have class?" even though you didn't think it mattered if he knew whether or not you had class since he'd be at work. And, it wasn't his education or his money. It was your education and your money.

So, when you walked into the kitchen, you were surprised to see both Hailey and Jay there. But, most of all, you were surprised to see Will there, too.

You just ignored Will completely.

"No wake-up call today?" you asked Jay. "I'm shocked."

"Nope. Hailey told me you had a long night."

"So did she." You turned to Hailey. "The coloring helped by the way. Thanks."

"You're welcome," she answered.

Jay knew this couldn't go on for much longer, so if neither you nor Will were going to be the ones to address it first, he would.

"So, me and Hailey will give you and Will some time to talk," he said.

You glared at both Will and Jay, but they didn't care. Jay and Hailey just made their way out of the kitchen and down the hall.

You raised your eyebrows at Will and then moved over to the coffee pot and poured yourself a cup. You weren't going to be the one to start this conversation. He was the one who was in the wrong after all.

"Y/N, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he began. You just sipped your coffee and wondered if Jay had called him and put him up to this. "I found out at the end of my shift yesterday what Natalie did. I tried to call you, but you didn't pick up. So, I called Jay this morning. He told me what happened with Emma. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you and accused you of lying and I really shouldn't have ignored you for weeks. I'm really sorry, Short Stack. Can you forgive me?"

You debated on this for a moment. On one hand, you knew you'd do the same thing if someone accused someone you had been in love with of stealing. But, on the other hand, Will shouldn't have done that to you. He was the big brother; you were the little sister. It was your job to do stupid shit like ignoring him for weeks, not his job to do stupid shit like ignoring you for weeks. But, you figured you'd probably do what he did. So, you did what your mom had taught all three of you to do: forgive.

"I accept your apology. And I forgive you."

"Thank you. And, I promise I mean it--"

You cut him off. "On one condition." He shut his mouth and raised an eyebrow. "My stats test is all online and I don't have a lockdown browser. You be in the room and I ask you questions and you check over my test, then we have a deal."

"Y/N," he laughed. "That's cheating."

"Not when all college is online. Then it's called using your resources."

"Damn, Jay really did teach you how to blackmail someone."

"You get used to it when you're at the district and he yells in the interrogation room You either tell me what you know and help us or I ship you off to 26th and Cal right now? We clear? So, yeah, I guess he did teach me well. We have a deal?

"Fine," Will agreed. "When's the test?"

"A week from now."

"Okay. Now, I think you should go get ready, and then me and you can go get brunch."

"Can I get an omelet and a short stack of pancakes?"

"I take it you want iHOP?" Will laughed and you nodded. "You can get whatever you want."

And now Will knew that next time you told him something important about one of his coworkers or someone else, that you were telling the truth. He wouldn't make the mistake of thinking you were lying about something like that ever again.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Happy holidays and merry Christmas to those who celebrate it! Please remember to reblog and comment as I love reading what you have to say! I hope you enjoyed this one! As always, if you want to be added to my taglist, just tell me and I’ll add you!

Taglist: @theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @onechicago18 @iamasimpingh0e @i-like-sparkly-things @herecomesthewriterwitch @liampayne88​

[vneuns]

her favorite

pairing : karl x hispanic!gn!reader

warnings : none just some mom favoriting the boyfriend tingz

word count : 0.7k

a/n: ! to be clear ! I know limited spanish so please don’t come for any spelling errors or anything if i forgot how to spell something i used google translate 🥲 so yes 🧍‍♀️ this tbh had no real ending but it was half finished in my docs and i just decided to finish it and get it over with 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 also you do not need to be hispanic to read this, like this, or reblog this!!!! it is tagged as hispanic reader though because i imagine the reader being hispanic but you do not. if you have any problem with this please dm me! ALSO in no way am i body shaming karl. this is not what i’m saying nor implying so please do not take it that way! <33

You stood at the stove hips don’t lie by shakira playing as you cooked the potatoes on the oil filled skillet in front of you. It had been a long day of working and you were in the mood for some Patatas Bravas, a spicy mexican dish your abuelita would make for you as a kid.

Karl had been locked in his streaming room for quite a while now going in around five and the time now being eight you were beginning to get a bit worried.

You turned down the heat on the stove deciding that it probably would’ve been best to go check up on your boyfriend.

You allowed your knuckles to knock against the door gently not wanting to starlte the boy on the other side. After a few shushes and clicks of his computer his voice was heard on the opposite side letting you know you could come in now.

“Hey mi amor* what’s up?” He put his hands out for you. Your feet practically having a mind of their own carried you over to him allowing his arms to circle around your waist your head out of frame.

Your hands immediately go to his hair raking your fingers through it pulling lightly when it got stuck in a few different places. “Estoy haciendo* patatas bravas. They’re almost finished just wanted to know if you wanted to eat together or just want me to put it in the microwave.”

Karl bit softly at the exposed skin on your belly that wasn’t covered by your lilac tank top. You jumped slightly immediately slapping the back of your boyfriend's head. He instantly pulled back holding the back of his head with his hand.

“Ow! Voy a decirle a mamá y/l/n sobre ti” i'm gonna tell mama y/l/n on you You watched out of the corner of your eye as the comments flooded with how cute the two of you were, and how Karl speaking spanish was the best thing that they had ever heard.

A gasp left your lips as you knitted your eyebrows at him. “You can’t tell my own mother on me! You little trader.”

“Oh yeah? Watch me.” Karl picked up his phone that he had set to the side pulling up your mothers contact and calling her. Despite it being “late” you already knew she was up watching her pre-recorder telenovelas that she directs absolutely no one to disturb her while watching, but if it was karl it was a whole different story.

The sound of a facetime call being picked up sounded through the spacious room as you heard your mom turn down the tv and shush your father who was complaining about something that needed to be fixed in the bathroom.

“karl mi bebe! como estas amor? esta y/n alimentando? te ves muy flaca para mi gusto.” karl my baby! How are you my love? Is Y/n feeding you? You look too skinny for my taste. Karl laughs and smiles going to say something before you cut him off.

“él es comiendo bien mamá, gracias por preguntar por tu hijo mayor.” he is eating well mother, thank you for asking about your eldest child. You hear the women on the other side muttering about how if you were feeding him enough he wouldn’t eat a bunch when the two of you would visit. Karl giggles looking up at your semi angry face. “Yes I am eating well mom.” He smiles at her and now you were just flat out jealous.

Your mom and Karl were always like two peas in a pod. At quinceaneras, gatherings, or simple family hangouts she was always dragging him around to meet someone new, leaving you all alone and bothered by your younger brothers and sisters about what it’s like dating someone famous.

Of course you had other s/os but your family never liked them as much as they liked Karl. Maybe it was because of all the goodies he brought for each and everyone of them or just simply because of how he lit up whatever room he walked into.

“What’s that smell?” karl questions looking up at you curiously. Your eyes widen as you make a dash for the kitchen hoping you hadn’t burned the potatoes in the pot.

-

“I burned the food.” You pouted after Karl had come to check on you once he got off the phone with your mother who was telling him he should just move in with your family and had ended the stream.

“Chick-fil-a here we come!”

taglist: leave an ask in my inbox to be added ! <3

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Cult Girl (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 13

Hello friends we have come to the end of Cult Girl. Thank you all for hyping me up throughout this story and giving me the confidence to actually post my work. Y/n and Hannibal throw a dinner party.

The sunlight streamed in through the window, illuminating the entire kitchen in that homey mid-morning glow. You were enjoying your coffee and scrolling through an article on your phone.

"Senator Hatch reportedly coughed up his late wife's toe on the floor of the precinct." You read out loud. "Huh. Wonder how that could have happened."

You side-eyed Hannibal, who was contentedly sharpening his knives. Placing a rather large meat cleaver to the side, he met your gaze. "I have my ways."

You finished off your coffee and brought the mug to the sink. "There was no way Theresa was going to survive that night, was there?"

"Clever girl." Hannibal praised.

"You were going to kill her if I didn't, were you?" You felt a smile coming on. "Did everything turn out as expected?"

"Darling, this all went much better than I could have ever hoped for." He smirked. "See, I had the whole evening mapped out. I was hoping you'd be the one to deliver justice and kill her, but I had to prepare for the possibility that you wouldn't."

You folded your arms and leaned against the island. "Is that why I was so sick that day?"

You could have sworn you saw some hesitation in Hannibal's face. Maybe even a touch of regret. "Yes. You needed an alibi. It was as easy as removing a single birth control pill from your packet. You'd see it was missing and think you'd already taken your medicine-"

"So I'd neglect to take my focus meds." You cut in. "Yeah, I knew something was off."

"By the end of the day, you'd be experiencing full withdrawal symptoms." Hannibal nodded. "I don't take any pleasure in upsetting the delicate balance of your brain chemistry, and for that I am sorry. I did what I had to."

"Yeah, don't ever do that again." You ordered, no disarming smile in sight. "I need those meds to function."

"I promise you, darling," Hannibal said, sincerely. "I would never keep you from being anything but your very best. I was just looking after you."

"I suppose now that all this is out in the open, you won't need to pull any shit like that again." You muttered. "But I'm still going to keep my pills at my apartment."

"That reminds me." He said. "Would you like to invite your roommates for dinner tonight? I've prepared a wonderful Spanish-inspired menu that's perfect for entertaining."

"I'd love for you to meet my friends, but, they all keep such weird hours I doubt they'll all be free tonight." You shrugged. "I'll give them a call though."

"Wonderful." He smiled. "You make arrangements while I prepare the kitchen."

You stepped into the office and called up Pilar. She answered within the minute.

"[F/N]!" She near shouted. "Holy fuck, how are you doing?"

"I'm actually doing..." you looked back into the kitchen, watching your beloved Hannibal in his element. "Really well."

"I heard about your cousin." Pilar cut in. "One down, two to go."

You snorted. "No fucking shit."

"Sorry, was that okay for me to say?" She apologized. "I know you said Theresa was a bitch, but it's your trauma and I-"

"No, you're fine." You laughed. "She was a bitch. Hey, do you have any plans tonight?"

"Uh, no. I don't think so." She answered. "Why?"

"Hannibal wants to invite you all for dinner tonight." You said with an audible smile. "Y'know, to celebrate the bitch's death."

"Yo! Steph!" Pilar shouted across the room. "Wake Randy up! We're having dinner at [F/N]'s rich boyfriend's house!"

You could make out Stephanie's voice in the background. "It's about damn time. We've been waiting for her to redistribute the wealth."

"She means thank you for the invitation." Pilar corrected.

"It's not like I had to twist his arm or anything. It was his idea." You chuckled. "He loves having guests. And excuses to dress up."

"Oh so we're getting fancy, huh?" Pilar's voice turned up in excitement.

"Hey [F/N]!" Randy snatched the phone from Pilar. "Text me the menu for tonight. My girlfriend'll steal a nice bottle of wine to pair. She's a pro, she works over at Cavatappi's wine and spirits."

"Much obliged, Randy." You said. "I'll see you guys at seven."

You returned to the kitchen with a smile. "They're coming."

"Well, we don’t have a moment to lose, then." Hannibal placed something wrapped in butcher paper on the counter. "Come now. Let me show you how to properly prepare a heart.

You and Hannibal spent the rest of the morning and the whole afternoon preparing a bountiful meal. You reveled in the irony of finally finding a space for Theresa in your life. That space just so happened to be on the stove.

Seven came far too quickly, but your friends were always a welcome sight. You greeted them at the door with hugs, Hannibal watching with stoic adoration.

"Guys, this is Hannibal Lecter, my partner." You introduced. "Hannibal, this is Pilar, Stephanie and Miranda."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, ladies." Hannibal greeted. “Please, make yourselves comfortable.”

"Here you go, Dr. Lecter." Randy handed him a bottle of wine. "Thank you for inviting us."

Hannibal examined the bottle. "Yes, this will pair quite nicely with our meal. Thank you very much. [F/N], could you show our guests to the dining room?"

You nodded and accepted the bottle, given the extra responsibility of pouring. You led your friends to the dining room and wasted no time distributing the alcohol.

"A toast." Stephanie rose her glass. "Too many of history's worst have had the privilege of dying on their own terms. Today, we celebrate the death of one who didn't: Theresa [L/N]."

"She will join her sisters Nancy Reagan and Madame Nhu in hell tonight." You concurred, tapping your glasses together with a series of satisfying clinks.

"Okay, you need to spill." Randy scooted her chair up and leaned towards you. "How the hell did you get away with it?"

"Well, it helped a lot that her husband was already a felon." You teased. "If I didn't kill her, he was going to eventually."

Pilar made a face. "I can't believe it took actual murder to get that latter-day lump thrown in prison."

"Well, the LDS church is a very influential organization with a stronghold on all of Utah." You explained. "There's a long history of legitimizing sex abuse there."

"We know, cult girl." Stephanie laughed. "You remind us every time your pedophile cousin-in-law comes up. Relax and take your victories where you can get them.” 

“Ladies,” Hannibal entered. You rushed to his side to help him with the dinner plates. “Have we ever tried organ meat before?” 

Everyone’s eyes found Pilar. 

“Braised liver is delicious and you guys are just cowards.” Pilar protested. “I will die on this hill.” 

Hannibal smiled and presented your friends with their plates. “You are a woman of good tastes, Pilar. Our first course is Riñones al Jerez.” 

“Kidneys.” Randy translated. “Who’s kidneys are we eating today, Dr. Lecter?” 

He tilted his head. “Theresa’s, of course.” 

“I don’t care whose organs you harvested.” Stephanie said, her eyes rolling back into her head. “This is delicious.” 

You and Hannibal shared a glance and a smile. 

You and your roommates devoured the Riñones al Jerez, then dug into the next serving of heart stewed with chickpeas and olives. You finished off the evening with natillas de leche and a bottle of Sauternes Hannibal just happened to have lying around. 

“This is the first time since like, Keith Raniere got sentenced that I’ve seen [F/N] happy-drunk.” Stephanie observed.

“Or even just... happy." Pilar said, looking at Hannibal. "I'll have some of whatever she's having, please."

"My pleasure." Hannibal poured her another glass of wine.

Your phone began to buzz on the table, capturing the attention of your guests. You didn't even need to look at the caller ID to know who it was. Nobody else in the world had such horrid timing.

"Shit, you've got to answer it here!" Stephanie pleaded. "So we can all give her a piece of our mind!"

You looked over to Hannibal, who you knew was just as curious.

You dragged the answer icon across the screen and put it on speaker. You gestured for your friends to be quiet. "Yeah?"

"Well look who finally decided to pick up." Grandma said. "Thank you for gracing me with your attention. I know you have so much going on right now, you're just too busy to pick up the phone and talk to your grieving grandmother."

"For your information..." you stumbled over your words. "I was interrogated by the police yesterday. I think that counts as having something going on."

"Are you drunk?" Her voice was laced with a disproportionate level of disgust.

"I'm grieving too, Beatrice." You counter. "What, suddenly you're the only one who can drink the pain away? That's not very democratic of you."

"In your state, you shouldn't even be thinking of alcohol!" Grandma scolded. "You of all people should know the effects alcohol has on an unborn baby."

You smacked yourself on the head. Of course Theresa would plant a seed to fuck you over one last time. "Did Theresa actually tell you I was pregnant?"

"It was her last message to me, actually. Anyway, you're coming home." Grandma said, without so much as waiting for a response. "I won't have my great grandchild living in that dangerous city that your cousin was killed in."

You exchanged looks with your friends, who were going through the same combination of emotions as you were. Grandma's words just seemed to fade out as you shared an entire nonverbal conversation with the people around you.

"And you're leaving that terrible, terrible man."

Hannibal raised an eyebrow and looked at you, waiting to see how you'd respond. You knew what you had to do. It was finally time. You did something you should have done a long time ago.

"No." You said, your nerves loosened by the wine.

"What?"

"No. And I mean it." A big smile crossed your lips. "Theresa lied to you. I'm not pregnant. And you have to live with the fact that your granddaughter's last words to you were a blatant lie."

Hannibal looked at you with pride and your friends began to silently gas you up with encouraging gestures. "

"...And that you're the only one to blame for her deception." You continued. "You raised her in your own image."

"This is why I refuse to let you raise my great grandchild with that man!" She wailed. "He's twisted your mind against me! He's made you cruel!"

"Hannibal made me see clearly that you made me cruel." You said with absolute certainty. "You'll never see me again."

"Don't be like your mother, [F/N]." Grandma snarled. "Don't cut people out for trying to help."

"You'll never see me again." You repeated and decided to leave it at that. You ended the call and blocked the number, joined by an eruption of excitement from your friends.

It was finally over. Your life could truly begin.

[imaginethebeautifulworld]

Hello! I hope you are having a good day/night. May I ask for axis and allies plus spain, romano and prussia speaking to their s/o in their native language? Thank you very much! -Humble Anon💕

A very good morning/afternoon/evening to you as well, lovely!

When I began brainstorming these, I kept approaching this ask with the thought in mind that the S/O's first language is not the same as that of the Nation's, and aren't quite completely fluent as of yet. It made it a little bit easier for me to write, and offered me just a little more leeway to daydream. ^_^;

America:

Alfred really only does so when he's super tired, stumbling into the kitchen with bedhead to grab his first five cups of coffee, half-flopping on you as he greets you with a kiss to the cheek- ruined by his yawn- accent stronger than normal as he rumbles out a good morning, asks how you slept. He rambles lightly about his weird-ass dreams, making you smile just from his annunciations. At some point, he remembers to start translating, swapping over to the dialect you're most familiar with mid-sentence.

Canada:

Oddly enough, Matthew plays Language Tag more frequently than Al, but more often than not, it's usually an unrefined Franglish that has always irritated Francis and Arthur. (He enjoys this fact, just a little.) Around you, however, it really only flares up in moments where he's just so overwhelmed and in awe, taken aback by how much he's in love with you. Most of his petnames for you are in English, but those moments where you're both spending a lazy evening in bed, he'll happily shower you with all kinds of cheesey compliments in French, teasingly poking your nose every time you try to get him to translate.

China:

Yao has a habit of slipping back to Chinese on a whim, honestly oblivious to the fact most of the time. You've noticed it gets significantly worse whenever he's stressed, and you've learnt some very colourful nicknames for the Others over the years because of it. Despite his seemingly incessant need to pace while venting, you always manage to coax him into your arms, steadily working your fingers across his back, easy out the knots that had been plaguing him. Meetings always brought him stress, but after a good rant and a few moments of your grounding touch, he's sighing away all remaining agitation, slowly bringing himself back to you and apologising for the slip.

England:

One of Arthur's greater strengths comes in linguistics. While he would much rather prefer a courtship with an English speaker, he's not going to deny himself happiness just because of a silly little language barrier. He generally tries to keep everything on common ground, but his nicknames for you, and some of his more scandalising compliments, are murmurred in English. He always keeps it quiet, an intimacy reserved only for you. There's many a "dearest" and "darling" when first waking up in the morning, a languid greeting for the coming day. (Also, he swears mostly in English, so be careful if you decide to borrow any of his vocabulary.)

France:

Francis never hesitates to prattle in French; it's second nature to him. Sometimes, he'll hop between both yours and his preferred dialects several times in a single sentence. You know it's just part of who he is, and while it can be annoying some days, it is helping you improve your own fluency. There are also moments when he makes you weak, his expression uncharacteristically sincere, hands carefully clasping your own. He hums out a soft phrase, one you still haven't fully translated, leaning closer to caress your jaw, thumb brushing against your cheek, any number of praises passing his lips.

Germany:

Ludvig, since Day One, has tried his best to make sure you're comfortable around him, and part of that is him keeping firmly to the language you are most familiar with. When coming across words he may not be entirely familiar with, or saying a more complicated phrase, his accent may sometimes come out a bit thicker than would be normal. The only time he really slips into German is when he's on the phone with folks from his government. You don't mean to eavesdrop on the latter, but you do enjoy how much deeper his voice tends to get when he's being "professional." Secretly though, you have to admit his voice when he sleeptalks is your favourite of them all. 

Japan:

Kiku constantly, and often unnecessarily, goes out of his way to make sure that you're comfortable, and despite your arguing against it, one of his ways of trying to do so is to only stick the language you both share. Frankly, you love hearing him speak Japanese, even though you really only hear it when he's at the store, and sometimes to the servers during date night. You love how gentle his voice is, his accent adding almost a sweetness to his words. Lately, you've been debating how to tell him that you'd like to hear it more, but for now you savour the little pieces you've collected over the past few months.

Prussia:

You learnt some time ago that Gilbert quietly speaking in German actually helped you fall asleep significantly easier. For that reason, he primarily only does so while either headed to bed, or whenever you're spending an afternoon together in the library. He'll sometimes read to you, but mostly he tends to ramble. You only understand a handful of the things he's saying and assume that he's regaling you with tales of days long past. In reality, he's running through his checklist for car parts he wants to fix, complaining about something stupid Roderich did back in 1648, and most often- when you're on the cusp of sleep, breathing deep and relaxed, his hand resting on your back- he's listing off every single thing he's come to love about you, not as afraid of his vulnerability when you're hardly conscious enough to hear it.

Romano:

Lovino spent too long relearning Italian to ever abandon it, even for your sake. He casually weaves it into regular conversation, the endearments, greetings, exclamations, and nicknames fluidly blending into the ordinary. He figured out quite a while ago that you actually enjoyed his "slip ups," so he's especially generous on date nights, about half of the words he's saying falling around you in his unique dialect. He once told you that you should be grateful, that he was blessing you with "the most beautiful language in the world." And begrudgingly, lost in his smile and the way the candlelight makes his eyes spark, you have to agree.

Russia:

Over time, one of your favourite pastimes with Ivan has becoming hunkering down on a settee by the fireplace, where he'll work on his knitting. The best part of these moments, especially on particularly frigid mornings where you've no obligations, is that Ivan will start to sing to himself, always pieces in Russian. Sometimes they're lullabies he's picked up from the royal families over the years, sometimes they're peasant rhymes he's known since childhood, and on some rare occasions, he'll sing something from an opera he fell in love with back in 1872. He'll often pepper in a few casual words here and there, always with a lightness to it, but you're absolutely addicted to how full his voice sounds when he sings.

Spain:

Antonio is actually the worst of the bunch. He can and will ramble in Spanish, a lot, so much so that some of it has permanently rooted itself into your own vocabulary, some of your replies slipping out without pause these days. He tends to catch onto his slip-ups quickly at least, quickly sliding back into your shared venacular with a quick apology. Still, you'll often hear him singing in Spanish, greeting the plants in Spanish, talking to the cats in Spanish. He's particullarly bad at losing himself whenever he's invested in a football match, or if you happen to catch him irritated about politics. Tonio has taught you quite a few colourful curses over the years, smattered with some day-to-day phrases you've both come to recite by default.

Veneziano:

Feliciano is surprisingly good at sticking to the language you feel most comfortable with, though he's notorious at mucking up the number of syllables in certain words. You have a strong suspicion he does this intentionally, this elongation solely designed to annoy you, especially as he always seems slightly bemused each time he does it. Regardless of how annoying he can be in your language, you do love eavesdropping on his conversations with his brothers, chattering away in Italian, his words and hands moving far too quickly for you to even hope to follow along. There's something so soothing in listening to him speak, even if he is producing 500 words per minute.

Thanks for the ask, Anon! I hope you enjoyed~

[rinarecommends]

Serotonin - Sero x F!Reader

Serotonin is thought to regulate mood, anxiety, and happiness in our bodies.

italicized text is meant to be spanish, however, I don’t speak spanish, and I didn’t want to try to google translate and it be wrong. Latin sero is KING though.

Nobody ever wants to be a cliche, right? But here you were being one. You became roommates with Hanta Sero a little over a year ago, and you slowly fell in love with him, irrevocably in love with him, but you were determined to suffer through it because you were sure that he would never feel the same. He was a HERO for crying out loud, a damn good one. He could have anyone he wanted, with his neat quirk that may or may not bring about not so safe thoughts, at times, and his spanish accent that would make any man or woman drop their pants, especially when he was mad, but it wasn’t just that. He was caring, always trying to save the day and people. He would give someone the shirt off his back if they needed it, it’s just who he was. He was loving, especially towards his friends and family, if the pictures hung all over the two bedroom apartment that you guys shared were any indication, even if one of those friends was a blonde asshole who was the epitome of anger in human form. He was everything you wanted, and all the things you never thought you needed all wrapped up in one person. It wasn’t really a problem, living with him while being in love with him. He didn’t date because he was too busy with hero work, so you didn’t have to see him with other women, or even think about him possibly being with someone else, until today. 

Today, you woke up like any other day. You ate the same breakfast. You did the same morning routine, except when you walked out of your room, you walked into sero arguing with someone over the phone, in spanish. You could tell it was an argument because of the language his body was using.

 “I know his ideas are normally bad, but I can not think of any other viable option, Kirishima. I need these feelings to go away, look at her and look at me, she 's perfect and she deserves someone just as perfect.” 

He angrily hung up the phone and drug his fingers through his hair in frustration, and that’s when you decided to pipe up to let him know that you were in the room with him. 

“Hanta, are you okay?” You said making him jump in surprise, and he turned to you, forcing a smile on his face, but you could tell it was forced. 

“Everything’s fine. I was just talking with Kaminari and Kirishima, and they said something stupid that set me on edge, that’s all. Anyways, Goodmorning Sweetheart.” You felt your body flush at the usual pet name that he gave you, it always made your heart flutter. You smiled brightly at him. 

“Goodmorning Cellophane.” You teased at his hero name. He rolled his eyes and scanned the room, searching for something. You could tell he found it when his eyes lit up like a christmas tree. He sighed in relief, picking up the hero belt that he had finally found after searching for it the whole time while he was on the phone, but it was just his luck for it to be hiding in plain sight. 

“I’ll be out later tonight than usual, so we won’t be able to watch movies like we usually do on friday nights. Sorry Sweetheart.” He said with his back turned to you. Your heart dropped to your feet. You always looked forward to the movie nights that became a ritual for you and him. If you didn’t know better, you’d consider them dates. 

“Oh? Work Event?” You asked with curiosity, wondering what could drag him away from movie night, knowing it had to be something related to work. 

“No, not this time. Kaminari has set me up on a date with a girl he knows, and I told him I’d go. Give dating a shot, y’know, get back out there in the field.” He rambled out, but you weren’t paying any attention. As soon as the word “date” left his mouth, your heart crumbled after each word thereafter. You forced a smile onto your face while your heart broke into a thousand pieces while screaming at you to stop him, tell him how you feel, but you let it break and silenced its screams, letting your brain convince you that it was not a good idea. Letting him know you had feelings for him could mess everything up, and you loved hanta, loved living with him, loved being his friend. You didn’t want to ruin that.

“That’s great, Hanta. I am so happy for you.” You were not happy. You knew you should be. If this was what he wanted, you should be happy for him, but you weren’t. You wanted him to want you, wanted him to love you.

“Yeah. I think it might be a good thing. Everyone needs someone to love them and be loved in return, right?” Yes. Yes they did. 

“Right!” You said with enthusiasm that you could only hope sounded genuine. He smiled at you one last time before he walked out the door, headed to work as a hero.

Once you knew he was gone, you sighed, but it came out shaky and before you knew it, you were crying, sobbing really. You felt this sharp pain through your heart as if something was squeezing and would not let go. You knew in that moment, you were experiencing real heartbreak, and the only thing to do when you’re heart broken? Call your best friend. 

It rang twice before she picked up, and if you weren’t so upset, you’d smile because you knew you could always count on the ever reliable Mina Ashido.

“Yo Bestie.” She said as she answered, her typical nonchalant greeting for answering your calls. You opened your mouth to say something to her, but all that came out was a sob. 

“I’ll be there in ten.” She said without you having to say anything, hanging up the call quickly to get to you. You let your phone fall out of your hand, clattering to the floor. How could everything go to hell so fast? You were living peacefully with the man you were secretly in love with, with no problems in sight, now he was going on a date, and it felt like the end of the world. 

She made it in eight. She came into your apartment with you on the couch sobbing, hardly able to catch your breath. 

“What Happened, Y/N?” She asked, quietly, needing to know what the problem was, so she could hopefully fix it, hating to see her best friend in this condition.

“H-h-he’s g-g-going on a-a-a da-a-a-te.” You stuttered out between your sobs. You didn’t say a name, but you didn’t have too. The thing was that your feelings towards Sero was evident to everyone but him, and apparently Kaminari who kept trying to set him up with girls, and his feelings for you were evident to everyone but you. 

“He told you that?” She said to you, all you could do was nod. 

“And you’re letting him?” She asked, making you look at her. What did she mean letting him? You didn’t have a choice in the matter of whether or not he goes out on a date. You weren’t his girlfriend, just someone that was hopelessly, desperately in love with him, who happened to be his roommate. It was like she could read your mind, and maybe she could, you had been friends since you were kids, friends throughout highschool, even though you weren’t at UA or in a hero course. She’s the reason that you were able to score this roommate when you were desperate to get out of your family home. She’s the reason you were able to meet Hanta at all. 

“N/N, you have two options here, and I am going to tell you what they are, honestly, with no sugar-coating bullshit. You can let him go out on this date, ignore your feelings forever, be insanely upset as you watch him maybe fall in love with this nameless, faceless girl, or maybe he won’t, but then there will be another one after her, and another, until he finds “the one,” and you can wallow in all the “what if?” scenarios you can come up with about your feelings towards him and how it might’ve played out if you had just said something, or you can open your eyes, and see that you are “the one” for him, and say something to him. Tell him how you feel. Then nothing has to change. He will either let you down gently because he’s not an asshole like our neighborhood #1 hero that is also an angry pomeranian, he’s SERO for crying out loud. He’s either gonna let you down gently, or he’s gonna return your feelings, but it’s a chance that you’re gonna have to take because I know you. You’ll regret it, in the long run, if you never tell him.” She took a deep breath after that monologue. Your tears continuously dried up as the words poured out of her mouth, and you felt silly. Why were you so scared to begin with? Was it rejection? She was right. Sero wouldn’t be harsh if he didn’t return your feelings. Was it the fear of change? What would really change if you confessed? You’d still be friends, if he didn’t feel the same, and you’d still be roommates, even if it’d be awkward for awhile. 

That’s when you decided. You were going to tell him how you felt. You were going to take a leap of faith and just go for it. Mina was all about living carefree and with no regrets, and she was right, when you thought about it. You would definitely regret not telling him.

You nodded at her and gave her a small smile.

“I’ll do it.” 

She sat down beside you.

“What’s the plan then?” She asked with a mischievous smirk on her face, and seeing that, you couldn’t help but match it with one of your own. Sero was certainly the love of your life, but Mina was undoubtedly your soulmate, two halves of the same hole.

“So here’s the plan…” You told her what your plan was, and she nodded along with you, agreeing with your plan, piping up when she thought something needed tweaking, and you two had a solid, doable plan almost an hour later. She left you to your own devices because she was on hero duty tonight, and she needed some semblance of rest to be able to protect the citizens at full potential.

You got dressed for the occasion and watched the clock until you knew he was almost due to clock out, and you called him.

Ring. Ring.

“Princesa. Are you okay? You never call me when I’m at work unless something is wrong.” He rushed out, answering after only two rings. Your heart soared when he called you a princess in spanish, and then it twisted in horror thinking that if you didn’t do this, that he’d call someone else that, or at the least, cease calling you that because what girl wants their boyfriend calling another girl “princess?” 

“... I’m actually not okay, Hanta. I know you have a date, but can you come home before you go? I really need you.” You inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying to keep your breathing even from all the nerves in your body standing on edge.

“... sure, princesa. I can come home before then. I’ll be there in 20. I just have to turn in paperwork and stuff. Will you be okay till then?” You nodded even though he couldn’t see you and breathed out a “yes” to give him confirmation that you’d be okay for twenty more minutes.

You hung up with him and stood up, started pacing back and forth while looking at the clock. You were actually gonna do this. This was a pivotal moment. After this, there was no going back, only forward. 

Pacing back and forth, time seemed to only drag on making those twenty minutes feel like an hour, until you heard hanta’s keys jingle in the slot, unlocking the door. 

“N/N? Where are you?” He said as he opened the door, not noticing you in the small living room. You looked at him, and your heart clenched, in the best way. He was so beautiful. He looked tired from a day of hero work. His hair was still wet from taking a shower at the hero office, like he always did, hating coming into the apartment smelly and sweaty. 

“I’m right here, Hanta.” You said making him snap his gaze to you.  He looked you up and down, probably checking to see if you were physically okay, and when he noticed that nothing was physically wrong with you, he gave you a curious look.

“You’re not hurt?” 

“I am. It’s just not a wound you can see.” you replied to him, trying to strain a smile, but not quite making it work. 

“I don’t -” He started but you shook your head.

“Do you know her name?” You asked, words tumbling out of your mouth without you really being able to think about them.

“Who?” Sero said, clearly not realizing you were talking about the girl he was supposed to go out with tonight.

“Do you know what she looks like? Is she prettier than me?” You asked, making his look grow even more confused.

“I -” He went to say something, but you continued on with your tirade, not being able to stop the words coming out of your mouth now.

“I sat here today, and I just thought, how has he not noticed? Has he, and just chose to ignore it, but you’re not that kind of person, you wouldn’t blatantly ignore someones’ feelings. You’re a hero, acknowledging people and their feelings is a part of that job, but then you told me you were going on a date today, and my world stopped. It literally stopped because I was okay with it being unnoticed as long as nothing changed, but you dating changes everything hanta because I can’t just stand by and watch the man that I am hopelessly in love with, who just so happens to be my roommate, go on a date with someone that’s not me. Not without telling him how I feel. I don’t want to live the rest of my life with unanswered questions and thoughts about what could happen.” You sighed. Taking a breath, looking at him as you did, seeing him with wide eyes and an open mouth. He opened and closed his mouth as if to say something, but you could tell he wasn’t sure what to say. 

“I love you, Hanta Sero. I love the way you care about people in your life and people you don’t even know. I love the way you try to make sure I am okay when you get home, even though you’re the one that is out there saving lives every single day. I love the way your eyes crinkle and you have a little dimple when you smile, and I mean really smile. I love the sound of your laugh. I love the way you smell when we cuddle on the couch while watching movies because I get cold so easy. I love the way you play with my hair when you think I’ve fallen asleep during the movie, when the truth is that I just pretend because I don’t want you to stop. I love how smart you are and how you continue to surpass everyone’s beliefs about you because you’re so great and no one ever sees that, always doubting you. I see that though. I see you, Hanta, and I love you just the way that you are.” You were so into your thoughts and feelings that you weren’t even aware of the huge smile that had made its way onto his face. You just kept talking.

“I know I’m not the greatest. I get upset easily, and I’m not the smartest. I’m not athletic, and I’m a decent cook, but nothing noteworthy, and there are probably so many people that would be better for you, who could love you better, take better care of you while you’re out there saving the world, but instead of dating someone that you don’t even know, that KAMINARI picked out, is it so far fetched that you never even consider dating me, when I was right here, all along? Was I not even a thought? No matter. I’m here. I’m pouring out my feelings, despite my intense fear of you rejecting me, and I’m asking you, pleading with you to pick me. Pick me, hanta. Choose me. LOVE ME. If you just do that, if you just choose me, I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you that you made the right decision, that I’m worthy of your love. That I -” You were cut off by the feel of lips slamming onto yours, words dying in your throat as the band that was stretching so tight, finally snapped. You had kissed guys before, but it had never felt like this, no one’s lips had ever felt like they were made just for yours, but his did. They fit together with yours perfectly, in sync, as the kiss went on and on, and you never wanted it to end, but it did. He slowly pulled his lips away and took a breath.

“Please. Stop talking. I wouldn’t want to choose anyone else. How have we both been hopelessly in love with the other and never noticed each other’s feelings?” He breathed out. His words made your stomach flutter with butterflies and instead of tears or sobbing, laughter, unadulterated laughter, flew out of your mouth, making him laugh along with you.

“I guess we’re both blind when it comes to feelings, huh?” You asked, smirking, and he nodded as he leaned in to kiss you again, and everything melted away, your brain flooding with serotonin.

[gubler-me-up]

Lost in Translation

Request(s): Hey :) Can i make a Spencer request? Something like that episode in Mexico, with a bilingual reader please <3 Like a trip and he realizes that the reader can speak Spanish, he's kinda mesmerized and she helps the team to get more information about the unsub

hey beautiful :) could u write something (literally anything) where the reader speaks another language or like they have an australian accent or smthg and they have to like translate for the team and spencer just thinks it’s the hottest thing in the world and then the reader gets real worked up and starts yelling in the other language and spencer is just like skdkdmend,,,,u don’t have to if u don’t wanna but like i love u sm ur amazing 

A/N: Thanks for the first request @cryingforwill​ and shout out to the anon who sent the second request! Can y’all believe this is my last fic of 2020? Being posted early? New year, new me (maybe)! Thank you to everyone who has been reading and supporting my work for the last four months of 2020 you literally ROCK 🗣 btw I am by no means bilingual (maybe a lil French but that’s it) so all the Spanish being spoken in this fic is straight from Google Translate so pls forgive me if it doesn’t translate properly and if you’re like me and don’t know Spanish pls have Google Translate on deck while reading

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!reader

Category: Fluff

Content warning: Swearing, semi-nudity, mentions of violence 

Word count: 2k

————-

It was rare that the team travelled abroad for a case but when an unsub was on the run to Mexico they had no choice to follow their tracks. The team landed in Mexico within a day of finding out the unsub had fled. They didn’t waste time scoping out places the unsub could possibly be according to eyewitness reports.

Unfortunately for Spencer he got stuck with surveilling at the beach with Morgan in the hot sun. They made sure to dress for the part by wearing swim trunks and sunglasses. Well, that’s what Morgan was wearing. Spencer opted to wear a white t-shirt,  brown khaki pants and a pair of black converse.

Morgan had begged him to change into something else so he wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb. Spencer insisted that if he just stayed on the outskirts of the beach he would look like a tourist sightseeing. The explanation earned him an eye roll and look of disappointment from Morgan.

No matter the amount of disappointment Morgan felt, the surveillance plan went as planned. Morgan went on the beach to blend in with locals and tourists so he could ask people if they had seen the unsub as well as scoping the area for him. Spencer stayed just at the border of the beach surveilling the area. Whenever someone would pass by he would ask them if they had seen the unsub.

From a handful of people ignoring him to them just giving him a weird look, he felt as if he actually did look a bit weird in his attire. He sighed and decided it might be best if he did some surveillance from the car with his pair of binoculars. Before he could turn around to leave, a volleyball hit his feet.

He looked down and picked it up. He had no idea why he picked it up considering he didn’t know who to give it to. Even if he did he wouldn’t embarrass himself trying to hit it back to the person it belonged to. Volleyball was apart of his long list of sports he wasn’t good at.

“Hey, sorry, that’s mine.”

He looked in the direction of where the voice was yelling. He raised his eyebrows in surprise as he saw a gorgeous woman running towards him. He tried to be respectful and not stare for too long considering she was wearing a bikini. He didn’t want her to think he was a creep or even worse, the unsub.

She smiled as she made her way right in front of him. She held out her hands for him to give her back the ball. He looked down at her hands and then at his. He silently went “oh” as he realized he still had the ball in his hand.

“Sorry,” he said as he handed her the ball.

She looked him up and down with a questionable look. She looked back at his face. Spencer for sure thought she was going to treat him like the rest and pretend he just wasn’t there. To his surprise she smiled at him.

“¿Eres de eta zona?” She asked.

He shook his head. “No, no lo soy.”

She giggled. “Por la forma en que mataste tu sentencia, puedo decir que eres de los Estados Unidos.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Supongo que eras de la zona.”

She nodded her head. She reached into her bikini top. He watched carefully to see what she was about to pull out. He then realized there’s no way she could be hiding a weapon in her bikini top so he strayed his eyes away from her breast.

She saw how flustered he had become and laughed at how his pale face turned red. She pulled out her I.D. card to show him who she was. He looked at her surprised when he read her identification.

“My name’s Y/N Y/L/N. I’m originally from America myself but I opted to work for the Policía Federal after serving my time as a special agent at the FBI California headquarters. I’m here to be of assistance to you and your team, agent,” she said.

“How did you know I was-”

“My team was informed by your unit chief, Aaron Hotchner, that an unsub had crossed over to our borders, so we know everyone on your team. Also, no one dresses like that unless they’re undercover.”

Spencer looked down at his attire. He guessed Morgan had a valid point of him sticking out. She laughed and grabbed his hand to escort him onto the beach. He hesitantly held back.

“I hate sand in my shoes,” he complained.

“Well, you should have worn sandals. Aren’t you the genius of the group? Dr. Spencer Reid? How come you didn’t think of that?” She questioned as she yanked him onto the beach.

Spencer trailed behind her unwillingly. He could already feel the sand seeping into his shoes already. He would have been more upset but he was entering the beach for some reason Y/N hadn’t explained to him yet. Since she was on their side, there wasn’t a direct reason not to trust her.

“I wasn’t going to go onto the beach. My partner, Derek Morgan, is surveilling the beach,” he explained.

“The beach is the best part to surveil though. Seems to me you got the short end of the stick,” she said.

“It’s the stick I chose and I’m fine with it,” he said.

She giggled. “Tonto, tonto chico.”

“Uh, gracias?”

She led him over to an area where there was a blue beach towel set up with a cloth bag on it. She let his hand go and kneeled on the towel. He looked at her strangely as he watched her ruffling through her bag. She pulled out a bottle of sunscreen.

“Can you apply sunscreen to my back please?” She asked.

“I-I don’t know if-”

“Do you want to blend in or not, khaki pants?”

He looked down at his pants before looking back at her. She reached the bottle out to him and he didn’t feel as if he had a better option so he took it from her. She smiled as she scooted down to make some room for him to kneel behind her.

He went behind her and kneeled. He opened it up and squeezed a good amount on his hands. He rubbed his hands together before he started applying it to her lower back. He had to admit her skin was the softest thing he had ever touched.

“Crees que puedes seguirme si hablo español durante esta conversación?” She asked

“Intentaré,” he said.

“Excelente. Tengo un hueso personal que elegir con su sospechoso,” she said.

“Que hizo…Wait, what are you doing?” He asked.

Y/N reached one hand to the back of her bikini top and untied it. She held the front of it with her free hand so her breasts wouldn’t spill out, flustering Spencer anymore than he already was. She looked back at him with a smile as she saw him turn red again.

“You need to get the whole of my back,” she said.

“Uh…I guess?” He said.

“You sound unsure. Wait until you have to do the front,” she said.

“I what?” He choked.

“I’m kidding. We’ll save that possibility for another time,” she said with a wink before turning her head.

Spencer’s mouth was gaped open but he couldn’t find the words to say back to her. He honestly didn’t know what would be the appropriate way to respond to her. If Morgan was there he probably would have been even more disappointed by the way he was acting around Y/N.

“Your unsub, Eric Brown, almost killed my partner,” she said.

“I heard,” Spencer softly said.

“Ese hijo de puta nos sorprendió. Le disparó a mi compañero en el cuello y si no estuviera allí para evitar que se desangrara, habría estado muerto,” she said, gradually becoming louder in her tone.

“Lamento que tu y tu pareja hayan sido víctimas de él,” he said.

“¿Ser víctima de él? Si vuelvo a ver a ese hijo de puta voy a hacer que me caiga víctima,” she yelled.

He let her have her little moment because he knew how upsetting being in that type of situation could be. Even though he was upset for her, he couldn’t help think her yelling was tantalizing. It didn’t help he was enjoying rubbing her back with sunscreen and feeling her soft skin over and over again.

“Estamos aquí para ayudar en todo lo que podamos. Queremos hacer justicia a su pareja y a las otras víctimas de Brown,” Spencer said.

She turned around to look at him with a smile. He smiled back at her as he took his hands off of her. She looked down at the string that dangled at her side and then looked back at him. He didn’t need her to say anything and grabbed both strings on both sides of her to tie it around her back.

“Eres muy dulce, Spencer. Le devolveré el favor diciéndole esto: escuché de un informante hoy que Brown intentará esconderse en un carro de cargamento de drogas que se dirige a Cuba,” she said.

“Really?” He asked in shock.

“Sí. The shipment leaves in six hours, but the dock isn’t too far from here. If my hunch is right, he isn’t staying too far from the dock,” she said.

“Reid.”

They both looked up to see Morgan walking their way. Spencer immediately got up and dusted the sand off his pants. Y/N also got up and picked up all of her belongings off of the ground.

“Morgan, I-uh…I know what this might seem like but I was-um.”

“Hi, my name’s Y/N Y/L/N. I’m with the Policía Federal. I was informing agent Reid about Brown’s possible whereabouts,” she said.

“Yeah, apparently, he’s going to get on a drug shipment to Cuba in six hours,” Spencer whispered.

“He’s most likely hiding out somewhere north of Cancun,” she said.

“Great. Thanks for the information. Are your units scouting the area out?” Morgan asked.

She nodded. “Yes, but we’re not trying to penetrate the area directly. We have no idea what kind of people Brown has paired up with and he’s already attacked one of our own before, so we’re treading lightly.”

“Fair. I guess we’ll meet in six hours to catch him,” Morgan said as he reached out his hand.

Y/N grabbed it and shook it. “We definitely will, agent.”

As she let go of his hand, she looked over at Spencer. She smiled and reached out her hand. She noticed his hesitation to grab it, so she did him the favour and latched into his hand. She pulled him in and gave him a light kiss on the cheek.

“Gracias por aplicarme protector solar en la espalda. Tal vez después de atrapar a este hijo de puta, podamos ser más íntimos,” she said into his ear.

She pulled away from him and saw that confused yet intrigued look on his face again. She laughed before waving them both goodbye. They both watched as she walked off from their sight into the overcrowded beach.

Morgan flopped his arm around Spencer’s shoulders. Spencer looked at Morgan to see a grin spanning from ear to ear. He sighed as he already knew what Morgan was going to say.

“So you spent the time you were supposed to be surveilling rubbing on a hottie’s back?” Morgan asked

“How about we don’t talk about it?” Spencer said as he shrugged off Morgan’s arm and started to walk away.

“You can’t keep your secret move from me,” Morgan said as he walked behind him.

“What secret move?” Spencer asked.

“The “standing there out of place but yet attract all the ladies to me” move,” Morgan said.

Spencer smirked. “I would teach you if I knew why it happened.”

Morgan chuckled. “You know what, I think I’m more content with you finally not knowing an answer for something than I am with you getting a potential date.”

—–

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @shadyladyperfection, @slutforthegubes, @pinkdiamond1016, @spencerreidsthings, @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto, @slutforsr @bxtchboy69, @fallinallinmendes @haihappen5 @mgg-theprettiestboy @siltuz-png @ptrs-prkrs @tclaerh @agentadhd @alexmarie29 @closetedreidstan @mac99martin @blxckhearthood @jesspavlik0vsky @katexrichardson @keniaasf @reidbuck @corishirogane3 @thegoddamncrazycatlady @keniaasf @pastelbabygirl19 @shadybagelsludgecolor @bootycrackraisinjuice @vintagebeauty1496 @bluerose512​ @laneybobeczko-g​ @averyhotchner​ @littlewierdalien @cynbx @mggsprettygirl​ @jessalyn-jpeg​

[organabanana]

What spring does to cherry trees || Supercorp

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Supergirl (TV 2015)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: None

Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor

Characters: Kara Danvers, Lena Luthor

Additional Tags: mostly fluff, with some porn for flair, pre-canon, but also, post-canon, tooth-rotting fluff.

Summary: I want to do with you what spring does to cherry trees. What does that even mean? It's taking a simple I love you and putting lead-lined glasses on it to keep its power contained. No offense, Mr. Neruda, but that's just weak. Kara doesn't like poetry. Until she does.

Notes: Written for a very patient anon who prompted me with “Seeing the cherry blossoms in Washington DC” but I got sidetracked by Neruda and my favorite of his poems and it turned into This.  It's poem number fourteen, found in "Veinte poemas de amor y una canción desesperada" (Twenty love poems and a song of despair) by Pablo Neruda, which you can read here (Spanish) or here (English). I mostly translated the lines I needed myself, so I can't guarantee they'll match the official translation (I'm also not sure there is such a thing as an official translation, so there's that). With special thanks to the most patient anon in history for the prompt, to @lavenderrry for praising my vibes, and to @emiltons for the gorgeous graphic.

[ao3 link]

The first time Kara encounters Neruda's poetry she's nineteen and bored. In her defense, she thought taking a poetry class would make her feel sophisticated and cultured, but all she feels is annoyed at the insistence of using language to obscure your message rather than share it.

And yes, yes, she gets it. It all sounds very pretty and evocative. It's just Kara has been hiding her true self in plain sight for the last six years, and she can't understand why anyone would willingly and needlessly do that to themselves. To their feelings. She may never have been in love, but Kara is pretty sure if she ever is -- if her heart ever feels full to the brim with the kind of big feelings her professor keeps making them read in metaphors and symbolism -- she'll want to make them clear as day.

I want to do with you what spring does to cherry trees.

What does that even mean?

It's taking a simple I love you and putting lead-lined glasses on it to keep its power contained.

No offense, Mr. Neruda, but that's just weak.

***

Kara doesn't take any more poetry classes, and she doesn't think of Neruda (or any other poet, for that matter) for years. She has so many other things to think about. She moves to National City and starts working for Ms. Grant. She grows into herself, she thinks. She becomes Supergirl and feels more like herself than she has since her pod left Krypton. She dates, a little bit. Dips her toe in the dating pool, if you will. She meets Lena Luthor.

And that's the second time she runs into Neruda. Right there on a shelf in Lena's living room, on a book that looks well loved and well read, spine full of small cracks and lines from being opened over and over again. Kara has always thought you can tell a lot about a person by looking at their shelves.  

"Pablo Neruda," Kara says, one finger tracing a line down the spine of the book like she's trying to read something in the pattern of the cracks, "I didn't know you liked poetry."

"I don't dislike it." Lena's heels click-clack on the hardwood floor before she sets the bottle of wine and two glasses on the coffee table and sits on the couch. "Have you made up your mind on what we're going to watch?"

Kara can hear the faint electrical hum of the TV being turned on, but she's a bit too distracted by the book to focus on deciding whether tonight is a night for a romantic comedy or an epic drama. She couldn't say exactly why this book feels important. It just does. Maybe it's because Lena keeps so much of herself hidden somewhere not even Kara's X-Ray vision can reach, and finding little clues about her thoughts and feelings feels a lot like she's struck gold.

Yeah. Maybe that's why.

Her fascination with the book only grows when she pulls it out of the shelf only to find the title written in Spanish. "Veinte poemas de amor--"

"And a song of despair," Lena finishes in English. "Atonement? I've heard good things about it."

"No way. I said I could be persuaded to watch a tear jerker, but I did not sign up for actual depression." Kara brings the book along when she walks over to sit down next to Lena. She's so focused on the book, still, that she miscalculates her landing just by an inch or so and her thigh bumps against Lena's as she settles on the couch. But Lena doesn't move away, and Kara figures there's no reason why she should. They're friends, after all. Close friends. Figuratively and now very, very literally close.

"I didn't know you spoke Spanish." Kara speaks again, breaking the silence before it solidifies into something potentially awkward.

"I don't. It's a bilingual edition. Can we please pick a movie?"

Kara would love to do exactly what Lena wants. In fact, giving Lena everything she wants has become sort of a constant in this fledgling friendship between them. It just feels nice, you know? Giving her what she wants and making her smile. But this book. It's all so very distracting.

"So. Do you prefer the twenty love poems, or the song of despair?"

Lena rolls her eyes, but she can't quite hide the amused smirk behind the glass when she sips her wine, so Kara knows she's not nearly as annoyed as she's trying to appear.

"What is it with you and Neruda? I didn't know you were a poetry fan."

Kara scoffs. "I'm not." She still remembers the feeling of relief washing over her when she saw her passing grade on that stupid course and realized she'd never have to read another line of poetry in her life. "I don't even like poetry. I'm just curious, that's all."

Lena cocks one eyebrow at her. Studies her, in a way that makes color rise to Kara's cheeks and has her wondering if Lena can see through people, too. 

"Anyway!" Kara shakes her head like she's hoping that'll make the blush fade. "The love poems, or the song of despair?"

"The poems," Lena finally concedes, "and I'm very surprised you don't like poetry. You seem the type."

"What?" Kara is already thumbing through the edge of the book, trying to find the place where it'll open naturally and hopefully show her which of the twenty love poems Lena happens to like the most. "What does that even mean?"

"Well, you have a big heart. Big feelings." Lena looks into Kara's eyes like she's trying to read all those feelings right there in shades of blue, and Kara finds herself looking down at the book just in case. Just in case all those big feelings she can't even name herself are there for Lena to read. "Seems like a recipe for liking poetry."

Kara shakes her head and pushes her glasses up, just in case. Just in case the lead in them can shield more than just her powers. And just as she's about to argue -- just as she's about to tell Lena precisely why she doesn't like poetry -- she opens her book and her gaze lands on a familiar phrase.

"Quiero hacer contigo," she reads out loud from the page on the left, and her fingertip is already finding the next verse on the right when Lena finishes for her.

"What spring does to cherry trees."

If Kara was just Kara Danvers, she'd have missed it all. She'd have just heard her best friend speak a line from a poem that -- much like most poems -- means very little to her. But she's not just Kara Danvers. So Kara hears the way Lena's heart beats just a little bit faster. The way her breath catches just so. The exact fraction of a tone her voice drops when she speaks. The faintest hint of a sigh.

"See? This is why I don't like poetry." Kara chances a look into green eyes, and she's so very grateful Lena has no superhearing to tip her off to the way Kara's heart seems to trip all over itself.  "'I want to do with you what spring does to cherry trees'. What does that mean?"

Kara swears -- she swears -- she catches Lena's pupils dilating just enough to make her think she knows exactly what the poem means. 

"It's not about what it means, Kara. It's about what it makes you feel." Lena lets out a soft chuckle, something light and airy like this is just a silly little conversation with no weight to it at all. Like she can't feel the way the air itself seems to have changed into something new. 

"Is it your favorite line?" Kara pretends she can't hear the way her own voice has changed, too.

Lena shakes her head. "No. My favorite is actually--"

Kara hears the DEO alarm before Lena's fingertip can make contact with the paper, and she almost considers ignoring it. She almost considers letting whatever danger is looming over this whole city have at it because finding out what's Lena's favorite line in her favorite poem seems far more important right now.

But of course, that would be crazy. Crazy! Kara would never.

"I'm so sorry, Lena, I--" Kara stands up, already hearing Alex's voice telling her where she's needed as she pulls her phone out of her pocket and pretends to read a text, "I have to go. I forgot I had this thing with--"

"Go." Lena's smile is just small enough to make Kara's heart twist in an uncomfortable way that's become familiar since she started lying to her friend. "Sounds important. I understand."

Kara nods, just once. "Tomorrow?"

Lena's smile doesn't grow, but it suddenly reaches her eyes, and something settles in Kara's chest. "Of course. Tomorrow."

Five hours later, foe defeated and safely locked away at the DEO, Supergirl touches down on Lena's balcony. There isn't a single light on inside the apartment, and Kara hesitates for a second by the sliding glass door. She shouldn't sneak into Lena's apartment in the middle of the night. That's a little creepy, right? Even if she knows Lena's said over and over again Kara's welcome any time.

It's just.

That book.

Lena's favorite line.

Kara may never be able to sleep again if she doesn't find out what it is.

So with a non-zero amount of shame at her own choice, Kara ends up sliding the door open and slipping into Lena's living space. She listens for Lena's breathing to make sure she's asleep, and once she's satisfied that's the case she makes a beeline for the shelf and the now-familiar book. It doesn't take her long to find the page she'd been reading before, and soon enough she's reading the lines Lena had been pointing to.

How you must have hurt getting used to me, to my savage, solitary soul, to my name that sends everyone running.

The words wrap around Kara's heart like a vice. If she could do it without blowing her cover and putting Lena in danger, she'd go in her room right now just to wake her up and tell her what Kara thinks about her soul. About her name, too, while she's at it. She'd tell her everyone else is free to run if they want, but Kara isn't going anywhere. 

But she can't do any of those things. 

***

The two lines stay with Kara, sort of swirling under the surface of her thoughts. She never actively thinks about them -- about poetry in general, for that matter -- but they're there. 

She remembers them sometimes. When their friendship grows and strengthens and one day Kara realizes Lena may be the person she loves the most in the world (tied with Alex). When the secrets and lies catch up with her and she thinks she may have lost Lena for good. When she finally gets Lena back.

It's been five years since she snuck into Lena's apartment that one night to find out about her favorite line in her favorite poem. Five years since she's actively thought about Neruda and the book and the words inside it. But for some reason, when Kara wakes up a couple hours earlier than she needs to and finds herself unable to sleep, she feels like that's precisely what she needs to read to soothe her brain. Maybe poetry will have the same sedative effect it used to have in college.

Wearing only an old t-shirt, Kara walks out of the bedroom and into the living area, scanning the shelves where she thinks she last saw that book. It's hard to keep track when your book collection has multiplied and turned into more of a home library situation than anything else, but she eventually finds it -- spine still cracked and pages still well-loved and well-read -- and settles down on the couch.

Kara flips from poem to poem, not really paying attention to any of them. A line from the third and then two from the eighteenth and a word or two from the seventh, eyes flicking between the Spanish lines and their English counterparts on the other side of the page. It's soothing, in a strange way. Like white noise, she figures. Nonsensical but calming. Until she lands on the fourteenth. 

"Oh, those cherry trees," Kara half-groans in a whisper. The cherry trees and the spring and the convoluted way to say I love you. And Lena's favorite lines. 

Kara feels it all over again. The pang of pain at the sight of that line.

My name that sends everyone running.

It lands different this time, five years into a friendship that turned out to be so much more and nearly went up in flames at one point. Because of names and lies and... well. Everything else. Lena was right after all, wasn't she? It's not about what the poem means. It's about what it makes you feel. And right now Kara feels a lot more than she'd be able to put in words if she had to.

Maybe Mr. Neruda was on to something after all.

"Hey," Lena's voice is laced with sleep, and Kara smiles as she listens to her footsteps bringing her closer, "what are you doing? It's the middle of the night."

Kara wouldn't call it the middle of the night -- more like a very early morning, really -- but she's not about to argue. "Reading. I couldn't sleep."

"Everything all right?" Lena reaches the back of the couch and makes the most of the rare height advantage over her girlfriend to press a kiss to the top of blond hair. "Why couldn't you sleep?"

Kara opens her arms before Lena can even think about sitting next to her instead, and smiles at the familiar weight of Lena sliding onto her lap. Even as she shrugs off Lena's question, Kara is already burying her face against the soft skin of her girlfriend's neck, breathing her in and letting the familiar scent filling her lungs soothe her like no amount of poetry ever could.

"Kara," Lena's fingers slide into blond hair, blunt fingernails scratching at Kara's scalp and making her hum in delight, "that's not an answer."

"No reason. I'm just not tired anymore I guess." A deep, content sigh. "Baby, you're so good at that."

There's still a slight crease between Lena's eyebrows, but that doesn't stop the smile Kara's praise brings to her face. "You'd tell me if I had to worry?"

Reluctantly, Kara pulls away from the warmth of Lena's neck. Her arms wrap around Lena's waist as she looks into green eyes. "You know I would."

And Kara watches Lena let the words sink in. They've had this conversation before, and Kara knows they'll have it again. They both have sore spots that need special care from time to time. And just to keep Lena's mind from going down any sort of rabbit hole, Kara decides it's time to continue a conversation they left unfinished five years ago.

"It didn't hurt at all, you know. Getting used to you." Kara shows Lena the book she's been holding, and grins when Lena smirks as the reference clicks.

"I thought you didn't like poetry," Lena chides, taking the book and flipping through the pages until she lands -- unsurprisingly, if you ask Kara -- back on poem fourteen.

"I don't. It's like... giving feelings a secret identity."

Lena arches one eyebrow, looking somewhere between amused and curious. "Care to explain?"

"Well, you know," Kara leans in to steal a quick, soft kiss, "say I want to kiss you. I can just say it. That's better than hiding it behind some kind of... flowery metaphor that'll make you wonder if I'm even saying that in the first place. Right?"

There's this look on Lena's face. Kara knows it well. It's like a challenge. Like she's playing chess and she's already thinking six moves ahead and knows you're toast whatever you do from that point on. Kara finds it nothing short of delicious.

"So you're saying," Lena says, and there's victory right there simmering under the surface of her words because she knows -- she knows -- she's won, "you'd rather I say 'this is a lovely sunrise we get to see together'," Lena's gaze drops to the open book in her hand to refresh her memory on the line she's about to quote, but she makes sure she's looking into blue eyes once again when she speaks, "than 'so many times we've watched the morning star burn, kissing our eyes, and over our heads the grey light unwind in turning fans', right?"

Kara swallows, hard. Her cheeks burn with a blush that will simply not be contained, no matter how hard she tries to keep some semblance of dignity. Her mouth feels dry all of a sudden, heart beating just fast enough -- hard enough -- that she's sure even Lena's plain human hearing can pick it up. And the look on her girlfriend's face lets Kara know she knows exactly what's currently happening to her.

"W-- well." Kara blinks, shaking her head like she's trying to physically clear the fog inside. To her credit, she thinks she manages to sound more indignant than turned on. "I mean that's unfair. You made it hot."

Lena lets out a delighted chuckle that hits Kara right in her heart, like a little pinball ball making it ding with the knowledge that Lena Luthor is happy enough to laugh. Really, truly laugh. 

"What?" Lena asks, still grinning, fingertips teasing the soft hairs at the back of Kara's neck like it's nothing -- like she doesn't know what she's doing to her. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Ohh no, ma'am," Kara grins, cheeks still burning with the feeling simmering down low in her belly but too charmed by her girlfriend's teasing smile to stop, "you don't get to pretend you didn't do that on purpose."

"Kara," Lena says, in that way, because she knows, she knows, she knows Kara's weaknesses so perfectly well, and Kara wouldn't have it any other way, "I was just quoting Neruda, I didn't do anything."

"You did the voice thing!" 

"What voice th-- Kara, if you can't just admit plain language and poetic language are simply not on the same level I--"

"You purred the words! How is that fair!?"

Kara presses her lips together like she can retroactively keep the words from exiting her mouth. Too late, though. Lena looks positively delighted.

"I purred the words?" Lena echoes, barely able to keep a straight face. Actually, you know what? Scratch that. She's openly pleased with herself. Smug, even.

"I mean. I mean," Kara says, and she touches the bridge of her nose with one fingertip because for a moment she's forgotten there are no glasses to push up at all, "obviously it's not the same. Poetry and prose, they're inherently--"

"Different, right," Lena finishes Kara's thought, "so you see how you'd use one or the other depending on how emotionally charged--"

Kara shakes her head. "But you don't need flowery metaphors to convey emotion! You can just say what you mean and mean what you say."

"But you just said it yourself. It felt different when I just said it's a sunset, and when I quoted--"

"You purred poetry at me, Lena, of course I'm going to feel a certain kind of way!"

And there it is. Kara feels it in her bones. The checkmate Lena had seen coming a mile away. She sees it right there in the smirk on her girlfriend's face. In the way Lena's pupils dilate just so. The way her tongue peeks out to lick her lips as she looks at Kara like she's lunch.

Or, you know. Breakfast, as the case may be.

"You feel a certain kind of way?" Lena shifts on Kara's lap and they've been together for long enough that Kara absolutely knows there's nothing innocent or coincidental in the way Lena's night shirt (Kara's high school gym t-shirt, mind you) rides up to expose Lena's lace-covered ass. "What kind of way is that, Supergirl?"

Kara perks up at the sound of her name. Her other name. Because maybe it wasn't checkmate after all. Maybe it was just check. Because the thing is, it's not just Lena knowing all of Kara's weaknesses. That knowledge very much goes both ways. And Lena calling her Supergirl? 

Oh, Kara is absolutely not the only one who's feeling a certain way.

"You know." Kara shrugs slightly, pretending to still be the mouse in this little game. She rests one hand on Lena's knee and lets her palm slide up her thigh, slowly, listening to Lena's heartbeat speeding up with each inch of skin Kara explores. "You know the way I mean."

Lena's breath hitches just so when Kara's hand slides further up, and Kara savors the sound of Lena's heart tripping over itself when her fingertips drag along damp lace.

"You're listening, aren't you?" Lena cocks her eyebrow, but her lips stay parted and her breathing comes in short, warm puffs so the whole thing really doesn't come off as stern as Kara is sure Lena would like. 

"Hmm?" Kara knows she's probably pushing her luck, but she bats her eyelashes anyway, her face the very picture of innocence as if her fingertips weren't tracing the very edge of Lena's panties, hinting at what they could (will) do if she just happened to push that fabric aside. "Listening to what, baby?"

Lena tries not to -- Kara can see the struggle right there in her eyes -- but she whimpers anyway, quiet and just barely audible to the human ear. 

"Kara." It tries to sound like a warning, but it falls just this side of pleading instead. Lena blushes so very pretty when she's feeling a certain kind of way.

"Yes, Lena?" 

"You're listening," a breath, slow and measured like she wishes she could take in a deep one but her lungs can't quite cope with that right now, "to me."

"Well, I mean," Kara shrugs slightly, like she can't feel the warmth of Lena's pussy against her fingertips, "I try to. I feel like it's good girlfriend etiquette."

Lena is trying so hard to look at least moderately annoyed. It's not working at all, but Kara can see that's her intent. She also knows exactly what Lena means, too. She means Kara is listening to her. To the beat of her heart and the air in her lungs and all the tiny, inaudible (for everyone else) sounds that tell her exactly how much Lena wants her. 

"You're listening to what you're doing to me." Lena drops the book on the floor to wrap both hands around Kara's neck, hips shifting forward just enough to get more contact with Kara's hand between her legs. Kara knows Lena doesn't need superhearing to notice the way Kara's breath catches in her throat. 

"And what am I doing to you, baby?" Kara won't cross the barrier of Lena's panties just yet, but her fingers becomes more purposeful, less teasing as two fingertips press against Lena's clit through damp lace. Lena's eyes flutter closed and she takes in a sharp breath that sounds almost like a gasp, and Kara rewards such a gorgeous sound with a kiss to Lena's jaw. "What Spring does to cherry trees?"

Lena must feel Kara's teasing grin even if she can't see it, because she lets out a breathless chuckle even as her hips start rocking to meet the movements of Kara's fingers. "Just admit poetry can express richer emotions than prose ever cou--"

Kara's mouth is on Lena's before she can finish her thought, and Kara would maybe feel a bit guilty for interrupting, but Lena's fingers fist in blond hair and pull her close and there's no way someone who's offended would kiss her like that. And Kara isn't even listening anymore, because Lena's tongue is in her mouth and all she can hear is her own heart thumping along anyway.

When she breaks the kiss, Lena keeps Kara close. She's panting slightly, breath hot and wet against Kara's lips and pupils so dilated Kara wonders if she can see her at all. A quiet, hitched moan escapes parted lips, and Kara swears there's nothing in the world -- in the universe, really -- more beautiful than Lena when she's like this. Like putty in her hands. And Kara just can't resist. 

"Admit you purred," she whispers against kiss-swollen lips, knowing if there's one chance for her to win an argument with her girlfriend this must be it. When she has Lena rocking against her fingers, wet and wanting and just the right amount of needy to get her to give in, for once. 

"Kara." It's practically a whine, and Kara swears it sounds like victory. Until she sees the glint in her girlfriend's eyes, and Lena gets her checkmate move after all. "Shut up and fuck me."

Kara feels the words rather than hears them. They hit right between her legs and spread all over her body, and you know what? Kara really is okay with losing under these particular circumstances.

Two fingers hook under the crotch of Lena's panties and Kara tugs lightly, almost like she's testing the strength of the lacy fabric. "Do you really like the..." Kara's voice trails off as Lena pulls the t-shirt up and over her head, blue eyes staring unabashedly at her girlfriends breasts as she struggles to finish her thought, "...these?"

It's just polite to ask before tearing someone's panties to shreds, if you ask her, even if you're currently transfixed at the sight of her breasts.

"I don't care." Lena's voice is doing that thing again, except this time Kara is pretty sure she's not doing it on purpose at all, it's just that's what Lena sounds like when she needs Kara now and isn't that just the best thing ever? "Baby, please, I don't care."

Kara doesn't know if she rips the panties off first and then leans in to catch Lena's left nipple with her mouth or if it happens the other way around, but she honestly doesn't care either, as it turns out. All she knows is two fingers slip inside Lena in one smooth, firm thrust, and her free hand grabs Lena's right breast, and then--

"More," Lena moans, breathy and greedy, but when Kara starts thrusting harder into her Lena shakes her head, "no, no-- more fingers," and Kara lets out a quiet whimper around the stiff nipple between her teeth. 

Kara pulls her fingers out of Lena and stretches her ring finger to join the first two before sliding them back inside. Her movements are slow and careful, all of her senses focused on detecting even the slightest hint of discomfort in her girlfriend until her three fingers are fully inside Lena. 

"Go on, Supergirl." 

Lena's tone is just the right amount of teasing to make Kara chuckle lightly, mouth leaving Lena's breast to trail kisses up her sternum and to the freckles on her neck as her arm starts pumping once again. She's so very close, Kara can tell, and even more so when she turns her wrist just so to press the pad of her thumb against Lena's clit.

Lena's fingers dig into Kara's scalp, into the strong muscle at her shoulder as Lena holds on and rides Kara's hand, hips rocking hard and fast in time with Kara's thrusts. Kara couldn't listen to any one thing if she tried. It's a symphony of sighs and moans, whimpers and ragged breaths and stuttering heartbeats that nearly overwhelms her senses until she feels Lena clench around her fingers, hips losing their rhythm as Lena comes with Kara's name on her lips.

Kara pulls her face away from Lena's neck just so she can look at her. Watch her come around her fingers and then relax, chest heaving with the effort of trying to catch her breath. Kara swears there can't be a more beautiful sight in the universe, especially not now, with the sun rising and bathing Lena's damp skin in early morning light. And as much as Kara tries to suppress it, there's a thought running through her head. A line from that stupid poem with its stupid cherry trees.

A long time I have loved the sunned mother-of-pearl of your body... 

"You're thinking very loudly," Lena whispers, already resting her head on Kara's shoulder as her fingertips play with the hem of Kara's shirt, "what are you thinking?"

For a second, Kara considers telling her, but Neruda's words aren't what comes out when she opens her mouth. "Just how beautiful you look," she says, which is in fact the truth. Kind of. She can't let Lena win every single time, right?

***

"Apparently the first cherry trees got here in 1910, but they had to burn them all because of a bunch of insects." Kara holds the little guide book in her hand as she reads, her other hand safely in Lena's as they walk along the Tidal Basin. "These ones are newer, from 1912."

 "Oh, like the Titanic!" Lena looks delighted with the coincidence, and the bright smile on her face makes Kara lean in to steal a kiss from her lips. Her fiancée is super cute when she lets her inner dork show, if you ask Kara.

"See? I told you buying an actual guide book would be worth it!" Kara holds the small book in her hand with the pride of someone who's just won an argument (for once). "Where else are you going to get that kind of high quality trivia?"

"You do know the prototype L-Corp keychain I gave you last week can access Google, yes?"

"Not the same."

"Not to mention the actual supercomputers we all carry around in our pockets. Or the high-tech communicator in your wat--"

"Lena!" Kara groans. "Look around! The cherry blossoms! The quaintness of springtime! A romantic stroll along the river! Where's your sense of romance?"

Lena chuckles lightly, her free hand sliding up Kara's arm to wrap around her bicep. And Kara would complain about the obvious use of one of her many Lena-related weaknesses, but you know what? It works.

"Kara Danvers," Lena says, voice low and teasing, "that's all very poetic."

Kara rolls her eyes, but she can't quite stop the bright smile that's already appearing on her face. "Don't you start with me," she warns, not very convincingly. 

Lena presses a kiss to Kara's shoulder, and it makes color rise to Kara's cheeks even through the soft fabric of her cardigan. Even after all these years. But she figures if there's one day to be particularly enamored with one's fiancée, that's the day she's scheduled to receive a Presidential Award for her contributions to science and the betterment of humanity.

Not to brag. But Kara is proud.

"I love you," Kara says, because she can't not, "and I'm just so proud, I--"

Lena presses a finger to Kara's lips, stopping what was potentially about to turn into a whole speech about the many ways in which Lena Luthor could not possibly be any more perfect if she tried. 

"Kara," Lena warns, all cocked eyebrow and slightly pursed lips, "you promised. You promised you wouldn't cry before the actual ceremony."

And Kara would argue. She'd argue that she's perfectly capable of going on about Lena's many virtues without actually crying, but you know what? Her eyes are feeling just a tiny bit misty already so she's just gonna go ahead and trust Lena on this one.

"You know what I also love?" Kara presses a kiss to the pad of Lena's finger and obediently changes subjects. "Sushi. Let's go get some." Kara starts walking away from the beautiful soft pink trees and in the general direction of the street festival, tugging Lena along. She's all for the romance of blossom-watching, but she'd be lying if she said hearing about the culinary side of this whole festival hadn't excited her a bit more than that.

It's only when she hears a sigh coming from Lena that Kara's focus shifts from food to the woman next to her. That wasn't a happy sigh. 

"Are you okay, baby?"

Lena smiles. It's not a fake smile, but there's a hint of something in it that isn't fully happy, either. "Yes. Yes, I'm fine. It's just... between the cherry blossoms and all this talk of sushi, I guess it made me a bit nostalgic for Sendai." 

"Sendai?" Kara looks at Lena with curiosity written all over her face. "What's Sendai?"

"Oh, it's a city in Japan. I lived there for a few months for an exchange when I was in college. Did I never tell you?" Kara shakes her head, her face the picture of delight at getting to learn something new about Lena. "There was this little restaurant near Tohokudai, I swear they had the best sushi in the world." Lena hums, letting her eyes flutter closed for a second like she's trying to imagine the taste. "I'd do anything for some negitoro maki from that place right about now."

Kara listens intently to her fiancée's words. She knows it's just a silly little comment. She knows Lena will be perfectly happy eating the undoubtedly delicious sushi currently being sold at the street festival. And yet.

She can't resist a chance to make Lena just that little bit happier, can she? 

So Kara looks around to make sure they're not being watched, and lets go of Lena's hand. "Be right back."

"Where are you--?"

But all Lena gets is a quick kiss and a gust of wind on her face before Kara disappears.

She's only gone for a couple of minutes -- just enough for Lena to wander back towards the cherry trees -- and when she comes back she's holding a small box which she immediately presents to Lena.

"Sushi for my... sushi," Kara lets out a chuckle, her now-free hand coming up to scratch at the back of her head like she's aware she may have gone just a little bit overboard but she's hoping it won't be too much, "Sendai's beautiful, by the way."

Lena's smile is soft, and Kara has a feeling -- not to toot her own horn -- if she'd been listening she would've heard Lena's heart skip a beat. 

"Kara Danvers," Lena sighs, shaking her head like that'll do anything to hide just how charmed she is right now, "you're something el-- what's that?"

"Nothing," Kara shifts slightly and puts her hand -- and the little carton box it's holding -- behind her back, fully intending on letting the focus of this moment be on her romantic gesture, but Lena raises one eyebrow and Kara loses her resolve. "Potstickers." Kara's voice is quiet as she shows Lena the box. "What? I was in the neighborhood!"

"In the neighborhood of," Lena squints slightly as she reads the words on the box, "Shanghai?"

"Well, China is next door to Japan, if you think about it."

Lena chuckles, clearly too charmed by this whole thing to even continue teasing Kara about it. "Thank you. For this. You didn't actually have to fly all the way to Japan to get my favorite sushi, but I appreciate it."

Kara shrugs, chopsticks already grabbing the first potsticker in the box. "I'd go way farther than Japan to make you happy. You know that."

"I do know," Lena nods, looking just a little thoughtful, like she's just now realizing she fully believes Kara would stop at nothing to make her happy, "you even promised when you proposed."

Lena wiggles her finger, flashing the kryptium ring that's been there for a few weeks now along with a teasing smile, and Kara can only shrug. "Well, I meant it," she says, popping the potsticker in her mouth and leaning against the trunk of a nearby cherry tree.

"I know," Lena says again, but this time she's smiling, amusement shining in her eyes, "if only Lex had figured out the one true way to have the world in the palm of your hand is to make a Kryptonian fall in love with you."

"To be fair, I really don't think your brother is Kal's type."

***

Eight hours later, they're seeing the Tidal Basin from above, the cherry blossoms looking nearly white in the moonlight. They could be in National City already, but Kara figures there's no reason why she can't take the scenic route with Lena in her arms and enjoy the view without the crowds and the bustle they experienced earlier today. Perks of being your own private jet.

"Go a bit lower, baby," Lena's voice is soft against Kara's ear, like she's afraid if she speaks too loud she'll break the spell and they won't feel like the only two people in the world anymore, "I want to see the flowers."

Kara doesn't make her wait. Lena's just been awarded an actual medal by the President, and spoiling her a little is the least Kara can do. So she dips until they're hovering just above the soft pink blossoms and then a little lower still, close enough that Lena can smell the sweet, fresh scent of Spring.

The night is clear and quiet, just cool enough for Lena to reach for Kara's cape and pull it forward to wrap it around herself. Kara holds her a little closer, just enough to hopefully provide a bit of extra warmth, and she figures it was the right move when Lena slips one arm from under Kara's cape to reach for the tree and pick a particularly pretty blossom from one of the branches that's closer to them.

Lena looks at it for a moment, twirling the little stem between her fingers like she's pondering what to do with it. And then she turns and tucks Kara's hair behind her ear, sliding the small flower between soft blond strands and smiling when she's satisfied it'll stay exactly where she wants it.

"Happy?" Kara chuckles, something soft and quiet and a little teasing because there's something equal parts amusing and endearing about Lena's perfectionism when it comes to silly little things like putting a flower in Kara's hair.

"Very."

And there's something about the way Lena smiles, more with her eyes than with her mouth, that makes Kara see, clear as day, just how serious Lena is. How sincere, when she says she's very happy. 

Maybe that's why Kara gets a little transfixed just looking at her, suddenly aware of just how different this Lena -- the Lena wrapped in her arms and her cape, wearing her ring and smiling with a smile that's just Kara's -- is from the Lena she first met all those years ago.

"Kara Zor-El," Lena's voice is soft just like the sound of Kara's true name on her lips, "what are you thinking about?"

And Kara wishes she had the words to tell her. But how does she even begin to explain what she's feeling right now? How she's still the same Lena that made Kara's heart trip all over itself the first time she saw her, but she's so very different all the same time. Brighter. Lighter. Loved. God, she's so loved, and Lena knows it, finally, and that's what's different, maybe. Not just Kara's love, because Lena's had that from the very first day, probably, but the fact that Lena can feel it now. 

How do you put that in words? I love you just doesn't feel like enough. 

And then it hits her.

"I'm thinking," Kara smiles, cheeks pink with the knowledge that she's just been proven wrong, "about what Spring does to cherry trees."

[itsnothesameasitwas]

hiii! this month I’ve read a lot of great fics, so I decided is time to start my monthly fic rec… that means I’ll be doing a short fic rec and recap every month with my favorite fics of the month

note: the fics I’ll be mentioning weren't necessarily posted recently

!!! - please be careful and read all the tags and/or warnings before start reading and left kudos and nice messages to the authors <33

❀ Divinely Blessed by thinlines @thinlinez  | 17k | Explicit | ABO | fic post

“I heard you, Ni. But what do you mean?”

“What do you mean what I mean?”

Harry rolled his eyes as he shoved his alpha friend down onto a seat. “Did you mean you lick someone out or…?”

“Nah, mate! It was me! I got licked out!” Harry could only stare at Niall in horror.

Alpha Harry prides himself on having the bravest and most caring omega who might or might not just fulfill his sudden curiosity.

note: for some reason i don’t know i fell in love with the ABO and found this fic someway and WOW! it’s really fluffy and sweet and while i was reading all i could think about was “god! i really want someone who love me like Harry loves Lou and viceversa” and also has a great smut scene, funny and well writen (cliff ily babe)

❀ Promise me you won’t run away by thinlines | 23k | Explicit | ABO | Español

“Does kissing me stop you from having bad thoughts?” Harry asked, voice muffled into the collar of Louis’ dress shirt. Louis chuckled at this. He trailed a hand down Harry’s back, feeling the muscles tensing along with his touch.

“I guess you can say that. You’re a good distraction.”

“Then I will be the best distraction.” Harry answered, pulling back and watched Louis’ lips unashamedly.

“Come distract me, then.”

Or the Prince/ Knight AU in which Harry left Louis, but the omega never once gave up on them.

note: this fic is beautiful and really REALLY well written, i need to say i cried and im the most cold person in the world but this caught me and I LOVED IT! but also when i finished it i got mad because in the end notes was the spanish translation and i read it in english lmao; anyway i love it!!!... summing this up, the fic made me thought about that LOVE ALWAYS WIN <33

❀ Twist the knife by jishler @jishlerfics | 6k | Explicit | Angst / Smut | fic post

Infuriating, but Louis missed it. Louis missed him. His thighs and his chest and breath and warmth and toothbrush next to Louis’. He missed sex with Harry but he missed his presence more: Louis would settle for watching Harry get himself off if it meant he got to see him; hear the voice that was like a soothing balm over all his wounds.

Two weeks after their breakup, Harry wants his toys back.

note: i definetely don’t read smut in purpose and the reason i’ve read this was because i love the moodboard BUT i need to thank the person who put it on my dash because i liked it so much!! was fun to read and the smut is pretty well written :))

❀  Hold you now by solvetheminourdreams @solvetheminourdreams | 131k | Angst with happy ending | fic post | playlist

The string within Harry's own sweatpants is now dangling outside of his pocket, stretched so far out that the seams of his pants have tightened. His eyes remain hyper focused on Louis, how oblivious he is—scrolling through his phone without a care in the world, while Harry feels his tilt on its axis.

Three years ago, Harry Styles said goodbye to communications consultancy firm McQuiston Worldwide, leaving a life of travel and agency PR behind. When he accompanies his best friend to a family wedding across the Atlantic, he'll be forced to reopen old wounds and face his past—one that no one wants to hash out, but may just have to.

note: at the end of the first chapter i was emotional, is the kind of fic that you feel every single emotion, the one you literally feel are part of it... it’s perfectly well written and please give it a chance and  check all the stef’s works because she’s a super talented writer... if i say something else i’ll probably do spoilers so, shut up ana.

❀ The money mark by brightgolden @brightgolden | 52k | Explicit | ABO | fic post

Harry's heart beats faster in his chest as the name sinks in. The Tomlinson name is awfully familiar, and he isn’t sure how many rich Tomlinsons are out here in London, but he knew one. Seven years ago.

Like all fine things in the world, Louis Tomlinson ages exceptionally well.

OR

Where Louis is Harry’s first sugar daddy who dumped him over text and their paths cross, seven years later.

note: THIS IS MY FAVORITE FIC OF THE YEAR. sorry, but this fic is super well written, is omega harry + alpha louis and find smth like this is almost impossible! but i loved the fact that harry could be an omega and a sugar baby but he’s independant and strong and wow! it’s amazing; everyone should read it because it’s really good!! (ps. louis is the alpha of my dreams, he’s a complete gentlemen)

❀ Sweet like candy by neodiamond @neondiamond | 4k | General Audiences | ABO | fic post

Louis is an Alpha with an odd obsession for gummy bears. Harry is an Omega who makes friends a little too easily. They meet on the bus.

note: this is the cutest fluffy fic I have ever read! strangers to friends to lovers <333

❀ Literally making love by Brooklyn_babylon @twopoppies | 30k | Explicit | Robot/Human Relationship | fic post

Holding up one of the android's eyes to the workshop’s windows, he smiled as the light picked up the gold flecks in the pale green of his irises. Louis had always paid attention to even the tiniest details.

--

All Louis intended to do was rescue someone in need from loneliness. He had no idea it would be himself.

note: science + me = signal error BUT this fic. OMG. how to say this is one of the fics would be in my recap at the end of the year; i have read another fic by Gina and was really good but this is probably my favorite between both of them... all i know and want now is to create my perfect partner lmao. 

❀ I’m gonna keep this love, if you let me by pixies @tomlinbuns | 26k | Explicit | ABO | fic post

Louis makes Harry pretend to be his boyfriend one night out. The rest is history.

note: this one is simple to discribe... the best of the best. one of my favorites abo fics, funny, teasing and very romantic. i enjoyed so much read how these two guys fell in love with each other. god bless this fic <33

❀ Beautiful stranger by lovelarry10 @chloehl10 | 66k | Explicit | ABO / Mpreg | fic post

“Did you want to- oh. Uh, sorry, I-” Harry stuttered, licking his lips as he looked over Louis’ bare torso, not focusing on the ocean ahead of him. “You’re very distracting, Lou.”

“Trying to tell me you haven’t seen a topless Omega before?” Louis asked, walking back to his rucksack and grabbing a bottle of suncream out of it before returning to stand by Harry.

“Not one as stunning as you,” he thought he heard Harry mutter as he started to rub the cream into his shoulders.

*****

When Alpha Harry Styles attends the Gucci Cruise 2020 show, he knows what to expect: clothes, clutch bags, and a few too many pretentious people. What he doesn’t expect, however, is to run into an Omega who is more beautiful than anything on the runway.

note: this fic is from 2019 but who cares, i loved it so much and i want to thank/blame @justalarryblog​ because she unintentionally recommended it to me in her abo fic rec post and now i want someone like this harry in my life... is it too much to ask? because is one of the most beautiful abo fics i’ve read this month and wow. if you haven’t read it yet, what are you waiting for??

❀ Waiting on you by beckywritesthings @beckydoesthings  | 21k | Mature | Mpreg | fic post

“Do you want to touch?” Harry asks, taking one of his hands off to tangle with Louis’. His open invitation finally drags Louis’ attention away from his baby and up to his face, blue eyes wobbly with emotions. It’s clear that he’s too taken to really form words, so Harry takes the initiative to press their laced hands against his shirt fabric, warmth from the skin radiating through.

Louis pushes his shirt up to his chest, taking Harry’s hand and pressing it to hold the fabric in place. His hands return to warm skin, palms even more scalding now that there’s nothing in between them. And then, as if that wasn’t enough for Harry’s heart to handle, Louis leans in, pressing his lips right above his belly button.

“Hi, baby,” he says, lips moving across his skin softly. “I’m your… I’m Louis.”

Or Harry is pregnant with a stranger’s baby and Louis doesn’t know. It’s a minor detail that Harry’s both living with Louis and in love with him. No big deal.

note: this fic is really new, someone reblogged the fic post and when i saw it first i was like ‘huh?’ and then suddendly (in less than a minute) decided it was the next thing i’ll be reading and now i’m completely in love with it. Lou i need to say you’re the kind of guy everyone wants in their life <3 

-----------

❀ all the love, ana. xx

[uncpanda]

Blood is Thicker than Water: Part 3

Summary: You’d grown up around the SVU squad room. The members of your sister’s squad had been your family and helped Liv raise you. You left them and your sister behind ten years ago for school and just never returned. When you get a call saying she’s been kidnapped by William Lewis, you rush back without a thought. What you find is a very different squad, a broken sister, and a snarky ADA. When you decide to stay things begin to change, and maybe, just maybe you and your sister each find your own happy endings.

( Just a warning that there is a rape warning, for the usual mentions of it in the storyline. There will be no graphic descriptions here.)

If you want to be notified when this story is updated you can subscribe to it on AO3. Thank you to everyone who commented, reblogged, and liked the last part. It really motivated me to write more! Chapter 4 is already written and over 3,000 words. If you want to check out the pinterst board for this story check out the link in my bio. :) 

Also big shout out to those who helped with the Spanish in the chapter! It meant I didn’t have to use google translate. I’m very grateful for their help in the picking out phrases, terms of endearment, and their opinions. You guys rock! 

Part 1 Part 2

AN: At this point I’m saying, screw episode order and the timeline. For the most part, they’re pretty interchangeable. Basically, I’m making it my playground.. 

You can actually see when things start to unravel between your sister, and Cassidy. It starts with him wanting to move in together, and her saying no. She likes it just being the two of you for right now. It continues when she wants to try something new, and he wants to stay with his usual spots. You don’t say anything, but when she comes home crying one night you make room on the couch, and she snuggles up next to you. 

It reminds you of your first heartbreak. You’d been in middle school, and absolutely crushed. She had called out of work, and kept you home from school to wallow. The two of you do the same thing now: Junk food, movies, and dancing it out. You blame Grey’s Anatomy. 

You’re in the middle of dancing around the apartment like idiots when there’s a knock on the door. You’re both dressed in leggings and t shirts, and you don’t stop dancing until you see who’s on the other side of the door. You go still at the sight of his smirk. “Mr. Barba?” 

“Rafael, and am I interrupting?” 

You bite the inside of your cheek and open the door wider so he can see Liv dancing, “Yes. Sister bonding.” 

He smiles, “Sorry about that, I still need to come in.” 

You step to the side, and this time it’s Liv who freezes at the sight of Barba, “Sorry to interrupt. I got worried when you called in sick, especially with this case we’re working.” 

Liv is possibly the worst actress you’ve ever seen, as she starts to fake a cough. You roll your eyes behind her back, and Barba catches it. He’s quick to put her out of her misery, “Oh please. Who am I going to tell?” 

Liv laughs, “Thanks.” 

“No problem. Heartbreak counts in the illness category, last time I checked. At the very least I think I can make an argument for it.” 

They both sit down on the couch, and you take a seat at the bar. You listen to their conversation while flipping through a fashion magazine. At some point Liv speaks to Amaro and Cragen and then Rollins. From there she starts to make a case for a woman who left her child home for two days . . . alone. 

In the end she gets riled up enough that she declares that she’s going into work. “What do you think?” 

You look up from your magazine at Barba, “I think that maybe I should change my hair color.” 

His brow furrows, “First of all, you have beautiful hair. I wouldn’t change it.” 

“Flatterer.” 

“Second of all, I meant the case.” 

You wag your finger at him, “Nope. Don’t drag me into this. I will listen to you vent, and I’ll listen to Liv vent, but I’m not getting involved. I don’t know enough about this stuff.” 

“Fair.” He leans back into the couch, and says, “I never expected you to throw an actual party when they broke up.” 

“Benson girls tradition, but I might be persuaded to let you join in.” 

“Yeah?” 

“If you ask nicely.” 

“Cuidado preciosa.”  Before you can ask what he said, Liv reappears. She’s dressed in work attire, and her hair is actually presentable. 

“I will be back in a few hours. Do me a favor and have Chinese waiting, and a movie picked out.” 

You go ramrod straight at that, “I get to pick.” 

Her eyes go wide, “No.” 

“Please Liv, it’s my favorite.” 

“We must have watched that movie a thousand times. I can’t stand it.” 

“It's magical, so don’t start.” 

She points at you, “A different movie.” 

And before you can stop her she’s out the door. 

Barba turns to you then, “Two questions. What movie is she talking about? And when did I become an afterthought?” 

“You’re the one who got her all riled up, you should know better. And Pride and Prejudice.” 

“BBC version or Keira Knightly?” 

You smile, “Knightly. I read the book in high school and must have forced Liv to watch it a thousand times. She actually hid it from me at one point. I didn’t get it back until I went off to college. You like Austen?” 

“Literature courses were my fun times in college. They were my break. I enjoyed Austen’s works a lot.” 

You finally plop down on the couch next to him. “Well, I’ve been abandoned, and if I make Liv watch it with me, you may have to put her on trial. I need a new victim. You want to watch with me?” 

He hesitates before he nods, “I could use the break, and until they fix this little mess I can’t do anything else.” 

You grin, “Chinese or pizza?” 

“Chinese.” 

Rafael ends up staying through the movie and one episode of Sherlock. You grin when you see that he is hooked on it. “The writing is really good.” 

“I know. It’s not dumbed down, and I love that he’s a jackass.” 

Rafael laughs at that. A call from Liv keeps him from watching the second episode. His phone is pressed against his ear as he pulls his suit jacket back on. He says okay a bunch of times before he hangs up. 

“Your sister is a taskmaster.” 

“Tell me something I don’t know.” 

He smiles at you, and then he stares for a minute. “You going to be okay here . . . by yourself? I doubt Liv is coming back tonight.” 

You nod, at the thoughtfulness, “I’ll be fine. I promise.” 

He stares at you for another second before he heads out the door. 

When the door closes behind him you go back to the speaker and hit play. As the music starts to blare, you start to dance; thrilled that your day ended better than you thought it would. 

As he headed away from your apartment and towards the street he could feel the call of private practice calling him. If he weren’t a prosecutor he wouldn’t be leaving you behind right now. A small part of him thinks it wrong, the attraction he feels towards you. It’s the same part of him who has become friends with Liv. He can’t imagine she’d be happy with him dating her baby sister. 

The age gap doesn’t bother him. At twenty eight and thirty-nine, it’s not that bad. You’re not too far separated and you actually seem to have a lot of the same interests. There’s also the fact that when he’s around you, he somehow feels lighter.

He hasn’t dated much in recent years. Yelina had screwed him up pretty bad. There had been a three month relationship here or there. Every once in a while he would hope for something more. Nothing ever became of it. He found it funny in a way, when he had been younger, just starting Harvard, he had imagined being long married by now with kids. He’s always wanted kids. He’d given up on it a while ago, when even his mother had stopped asking when he was going to give her a grandbaby. 

But you? There’s something about you, that makes him realize those dreams aren’t as dead as he thought. Maybe he needed to sign up for a dating app? Because you are off limits. 

He’s fully convinced that Liv is a mother bear who would do anything to protect her cub, and if she asked nicely enough he was sure that Cragen, Finn, and Munch would help bury his body. He pushes those thoughts away when the details about “Lacey Unknown” come to light. All of his energy becomes focused on getting the girl some justice. 

He’s had an excellent day. He’s gotten Jenny the justice she deserves and a four million dollar payout. He prays, actually prays that it’s enough to help her out. 

So when you knock on the door and stick your head in, his day gets even better,“To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I was in the neighborhood.”

“Oh really?” 

“Yeah, Liv told me all about your win. Called me right as I was finishing up work for the day. She actually squealed in delight, said that the squad was going for drinks, and I offered to come fetch you.” 

“Fetch me?” 

“Yep.” 

Your smile is contagious, and he can feel his own mouth mirroring it. “All right cariño.” The term of endearment slips out. And when you give him a puzzled look he doesn’t explain, he just grins, “Let’s go.”

And as you talk about your day, that warm feeling surrounds him, and he can’t help but think he could get used to this. And those thoughts he had pushed away days earlier come right back to the surface. He is so screwed.