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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

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TO LOVE AND BE LOVED - Part Three (Harry Styles)

a/n: part 3 wohoo! thank you so much for all the love you’ve been showing the series, it keeps me going and writing more and more! originally i thought it would turn out to be about three parts, but it has outgrown that limit so i added two more parts to the masterpost, that’s for sure is gonna happen but i might even add more?! not sure, im still in the writing process so i can’t tell how long it’s going to turn out to be, but this just means even more content for you guys!

as always, feedback is very much appreciated, please make sure to share your thoughts and comments on the part, it’s such a huge boost for writers to read what you thought!!

pairing: CEO!Dad!Harry X Reader

warning: mentions of death, cheating and divorce

word count: 11.4k

SERIES MASTERPOST masterlist

When you were working at the daycare you couldn’t focus on photography as much as you would have liked to. You often had to stay in for extra hours, wait until the last kid was picked up and then do paperwork, or change the decoration in your room or whatever Clair asked you to do that day. By the time you got home you just wanted to take a bath and fall into bed. You also had to travel 40 minutes to work which took away a lot of time from your day.

Working for Harry helped you immensely with focusing more on your passion. Even on his worse days he got home by six and since your workplace is your home, you don’t even have to drive forty minutes to enjoy the comfort of your home, you just walk up the stairs to your room and that’s it.

In addition, taking care of Izzy, you still have the chance to work on some editing or snap new pictures. You have time off when she has her classes and when you put her down for her nap. The best thing is that Izzy is quite interested in photography, she gets very interested whenever she sees you bring out one of your cameras and she always lets you take pictures of her, posing and goofing around. The folder on your computer that has her name is growing each day with more and more sweet photos of the little girl that has completely stolen your heart. You’ve been regularly getting your favorites shots of her printed and you always leave them on Harry’s desk so when he gets home he sees them and they make him forget about whatever happened at work that day.

You are getting more and more emails about possible sessions and slowly but surely, your weekends start to fill up with weddings, birthday parties and engagement photoshoots. It seems like you have definitely made the right choice when you took this job. No doubts.

“Can I ask a question, daddy?” Izzy is poking the peas around on her plate as the four of you sit at the dining table at dinner. Ruth has joined you today, because Harry had to make a quick trip to his office in the afternoon and you were out shopping with Trevor today.

“Sure, baby,” Harry hums nodding.

“Why don’t you eat meat?” she asks seriously, eyeing her own plate that has some chicken on it, while Harry’s is only stacked with veggies and potatoes.

“Because I decided that I won’t want to.”

“Can I decide that too?”

“You’re a little too young for that, baby. You need the meat to grow big. When you’re older you can think about what kind of things you want to and don’t want to eat.”

“Okay,” she nods without throwing a tantrum about her dad telling her no. You know quite a few kids who would have flipped over it, but not Izzy. Harry might not even realize how good of a job he is doing raising her and teaching her how to be a good human.

“I have another question,” she announces, glancing up at Harry.

“Go ahead.”

“If you don’t eat meat, does that make you an herbivore?”

You can’t push down a chuckle, you were not expecting this. Your eyes meet Ruth’s over the table, she is enjoying this conversation just as much as you do. It’s cute how Izzy put two and two together and made a seemingly logical conclusion.

“We learned about herbivore dinosaurs this week,” you inform Harry, who is a little lost about why his daughter just called him an herbivore. Also, you’re quite impressed that she remembered the word, though she struggled with it at first, but it seems like it finally stuck.

Harry shakes his head chuckling as he sets his fork down, looking over at Izzy.

“In a way I should be called an herbivore, but that’s not what you call people who don’t eat meat. I’m a vegetarian.”

“Oh, okay,” she nods, wrapping up the information in her head as she keeps eating.

You and Ruth clean up after dinner while Harry gives Izzy a bath, a little earlier than usually, because she spilled apple juice on herself, so he decided to just go straight for the bath instead of changing once more before bedtime.

“Will you be fine with putting these away, Darling?” Ruth asks as you’re drying the last few dishes.

“Sure! I’ll take care of it,” you smile back at her as she nods and heads into the living room.

Harry emerges from upstairs with a freshly cleaned Izzy on his arms. As soon as her little feet touch the floor she bolts over to join Ruth in front of the TV while Harry walks into the kitchen just as you put the last dish away.

“Hey, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” he starts and suddenly, you feel your stomach drop, especially because his face seems very serious.

“Oh God, what did I do?” you ask, feeling yourself panicking already.

“Nothing! It’s not like that!” he chuckles softly, realizing you kind of misunderstood the situation.

“Okay, good. Sorry, you just looked so serious.”

“Sorry, I was just… thinking. So two friends of mine that I work together with also are getting married soon. They had a photographer booked already, but the guy cancelled on them and, um, I hope you don’t mind, but I recommended you to them.”

“Really?” you ask in complete surprise.

“Yeah. Actually, they saw a picture of Izzy that you took in my office and we started talking about how you do photoshoots in your free time and then I told them to ask if you’d be up to do their wedding as well.”

“Wow, that’s really nice of you, Harry. Thank you!”

“I gave them your number, they’ll probably call you sometime next week or so.”

“Great!” you beam, excited about the new event you can work at. “I hope they’ll want to work with me.”

“I kind of hyped you up for them and they seemed very pleased with the pictures I showed them, so I’m sure they will want to,” Harry chuckles softly, even blushing a little. It always amazes you how a tall, muscular guy with so many tattoos can be such a soft, caring and loving person. It always reminds you not to judge the book by its cover.

“Thank you, Harry. This means a lot to me.” Reaching over you place your hand on his arm and give it a gentle squeeze before moving past him to join Ruth and Izzy in the living room.

Harry was right about Sarah and Mitch being all excited to get in contact with you, because they don’t even wait for the next week to reach out. Sunday afternoon you are working on some more editing at the dining table while Harry and Izzy are painting on the other end of the table, busy with their masterpieces when your phone starts ringing, an unknown number shown on the screen.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you answer it, leaning back in your seat.

“Y/N, hi! My name is Sarah Jones, I hope I’m not calling at a bad time, Harry gave me your number this week.”

“Oh! Sarah, yeah! So nice to talk to you!” you beam and Harry’s eyes snap up to you at the mentioning of the familiar name. “Harry mentioned you’d reach out and don’t worry, I’m happy to chat.”

“That’s great. I wanted to wait until Monday, but truth is that we are kind of in a short of time and I was afraid you’d be already busy for our date, so I wanted to call you as soon as possible.”

“No worries.”

“So first and foremost, I’m gonna ask if you have anything planned on the last weekend of May. I know it’s just in a few weeks, but I really hope we can work it out.”

“Let me pull up my calendar,” you tell her as you open up the app on your computer that you use to keep track with your sessions and events. Finding the weekend in question in it, you smile at the empty space. “Good news, seems like I’m free that weekend.”

“Oh thank God!” she breathes out in relief and you let out a chuckle. “That’s so amazing. So then would it be possible to meet up sometime next week? You could show some more works of yours and we can discuss more details, how does that sound?”

“This week? Well I have to work—“ you start, but Harry cuts you off.

“Come into the office tomorrow morning.” “What?”

“Put her on speaker,” he smiles nodding towards your phone and you do as he asked, setting it to the table with Sarah on speaker. “Hey Sarah!”

“Harry, hi!”

“Aunt Sarah?” Izzy’s ears perk up, some pink paint on her cheeks that you have no idea how it got there, because her painting doesn’t even have any pink in it.

“Hi Izzy! So good to hear your voice!” she chuckles through the phone.

“Sarah, you’re gonna be at the studio Monday morning, right?” Harry asks and you can’t not notice how his voice changed the slightest bit as soon as he started talking about business.

“Yeah and Mitch is coming too,” she confirms.

“Okay then how about you come in tomorrow morning, Y/N?”

“But what about Izzy?”

“She can come too. I’ll look after her while you discuss the details, it’s no big deal. It’s been a while since the last time she came to work with me,” he smirks over at the little girl, who is already excited to spend some more time with her daddy at his workplace.

“Are you sure about that?”

“Absolutely,” he nods smiling.

“Thank you, well then I’m okay with tomorrow if it’s fine for you as well, Sarah.”

“That would be perfect! Thank you guys both, Mitch and I really appreciate it.”

“No worries,” Harry nods, going back to his painting. You take Sarah off the phone as you say your goodbye before ending the call.

You start Monday off with some extra excitement. Not just because you are about to get booked for another event, but also because it’s going to be the first time you see Harry at his workplace. He has been quite good at keeping his business separated from his private life, it never really happens that you catch him dwell about anything work related whenever he is home and around Izzy. The phone call with Sarah was like a tiny glimpse of what he might be like when he is in work mode and you’re kind of curious to see more of this side of him.

Just as usual, Harry takes care of Izzy in the morning while you get ready on your own. You want to look good, not only are you going to meet more of his friends, but people he works with. Or should you say, people who work for him.

You choose a light pink dress, throwing a white knitted sweater over your shoulders with a pair of ballerinas. After putting on some light makeup and grabbing your purse and laptop you head downstairs to grab a quick breakfast. Izzy is already sitting at the table, still in her pajamas since her and food are a dangerous combination and Harry always makes sure to get her dressed once she is away from all of that.

“You look so pretty, Y/N!” she beams, her legs dangling from the chair as she digs into her oatmeal. Harry appears from the kitchen and he has the same look on his face like when he saw you leave for that wedding a while ago. A blush paints his cheeks as he slows his steps down, his eyes running down on the length of your body before they return to your face.

“Izzy is right, you look… really pretty, Y/N,” he compliments into your face, unlike last time when you only heard him call you pretty when he thought you were long gone.

“Thank you,” you breathe out with a soft chuckle.

The morning carries on as usual, Harry dresses Izzy for the day and then you all head out, however you stop short upon seeing the various cars parked on the driveway and the double garage.

“Maybe take the Rover, it’s got the child seat in it and I’ll take the Jaguar today,” Harry suggests as he hands you over the keys to the Rover and then nears the car he is taking for the day.

“Oh yeah, you just take the Jaguar, boss,” you chuckle under your breath, finding it a little funny that deciding on which car you’re taking for the day is even a question in someone else’s life.

Izzy sings along the radio as you follow Harry’s car into the label’s building. Of course, it’s not just some simple office building, it’s situated in the riches area of the city and the building is massive with loads of floors and a huge HES Records sign above the entrance where you meet Harry after parking down.

“Good morning, Mr. Styles! Hello, Izzy!” the woman behind the front desk smiles widely immediately, standing up from her chair to hand Harry a stack of envelopes. “Your post, sir.”

“Thank you, Veronica. Have a nice day,” Harry nods in her way as the three of you move through the hall to the elevators. Waiting for it to arrive, you glance at the board on the wall that lists everything you can find in the building and the level you should look for it at. There are endless amount of studios, at least three on each levels, offices, creative rooms and conference rooms. It’s pretty clear that HES Records manages a lot of talents and that requires a lot of space.

Arriving to the twentieth floor, which is of course the top of the building, you are in awe as you realize that the whole floor is basically Harry’s office. There’s a kind of hall area for his two assistants, he has his own conference room, his kitchen and dining area and of course, his office space. The whole place screams power and influence. The modern design of the interior makes it such a fancy work space not just for him, but for everyone else in the building. It’s truly impressive.

“Wow, Harry. This place is… amazing,” you breathe out as he walks the two of you into the conference room where Izzy immediately climbs up to one of the chairs, standing up so she can lean onto the table. Harry walks behind her and adjusts her so she just sits before she could fall off.

“Thank you. I really like this place too. I always thought it’s important to have a great place to work at,” he smiles, clearly proud of how far his business has come. “There’s a mini fridge over there, feel free to take anything you’d like. Sarah texted me on the way here that they’ll be here shortly.”

“Great, thank you,” you nod, taking a seat next to Izzy as you set your laptop up. The glass door of the room opens and one of the assistants peeks inside.

“Mr. Styles, Mrs. Wonstein is on the phone asking for you.”

“Oh, alright, give me a minute and I’ll take it.” The assistant nods and walks out. “Izzy, come with daddy a little, alright? Let Y/N do her thing.” “She can stay, if you want. I can look after her,” you tell him, but he shakes his head as Izzy climbs off the chair and running over to him, she takes his hand.

“No, just focus on this one. I’ll take care of her, don’t worry.”

“Thank you, Harry,” you smile with gratitude as the two of them walk out, leaving you alone. You start scrolling through your folders, wondering which photos you should show Sarah and Mitch, picking out some of your favorites while you wait for them, though they don’t take too long to arrive. Soon enough the glass door opens and the lovely couple walks in.

“Y/N! Hi, it’s so nice to finally meet you!” Sarah greets you, wrapping you in a warm hug before stepping aside.

“Hi, I’m Mitch, nice to meet you,” the groom-to-be smiles shyly as he pulls you in for a short hug as well.

“Good to meet you guys too,” you smile back at them as you all sit to the table.

“Thank you so much for meeting us in such a short notice. Our photographer bailed out on us and I was starting to really worry when Harry mentioned that you are doing this kind of stuff in your free time,” Sarah explains.

“No worries. Would you like to go over some of my previous works?” you offer and they both nod in excitement before you start clicking through some old projects.

They share their vision for the whole wedding and the kind of pictures they would like and you like their approach and feel like it’s right up your alley. They both seem to like what you show them and Sarah compliments on how well you are able to catch small, but important moments.

“The wedding won’t be too big, just friends and family, but we do want a lot of memories, it means a lot to us,” Sarah explains and you nod, noting everything she says.

“Harry said you like this oldschool kind of vibe in your pictures,” Mitch chimes in.

“Oh, yeah. I like to make them look like they weren’t taken on a digital sometimes.”

“Do you think you can make some of those for us as well? Not all of them, just a couple,” Sarah asks.

“Sure! It’s more about the editing process, but it’s totally doable.”

You go over a few more things, making sure you’re on the same page, but you feel like things are working out perfectly. Though you guessed they would be great people, it’s still nice to work with such a nice and professional couple. You’ve had some crazy ones before, they definitely don’t make the job easy on you, but it’s not the case right now.

“Okay, so are you sure the date is okay for you? We wouldn’t want you to cancel on anything you had before just because we are Harry’s friends,” Mitch assures you, but you give them a warm smile.

“I’m totally free, don’t worry. Harry doesn’t have that kind of advantage here,” you chuckle softly.

“Thank you so much in this case. You’re truly a lifesaver,” Sarah breathes out in relief.

“Thank you for the trust. I’m really looking forward to working with you guys!”

Finishing up the meeting you pack up, chatting a little out of the business talk with Sarah and Mitch as you head over to Harry’s office.

“Hey! How did it go?” Harry asks as soon as the three of you walk in. Izzy is sitting at his desk, like a little boss, coloring something as he is sitting on the corner of the desk.

“Amazing, we owe you one for suggesting her,” Sarah sighs and you can’t help but just chuckle at how thankful she really is that you could help them out.

“You owe me no more than just one dance at the wedding,” Harry smiles at her.

“Can I dance too?” Izzy’s head perks up.

“Oh baby, you’re not coming to the wedding. You’ll be staying with Grandma, I already told you.” Izzy pouts at her dad, but she doesn’t seem to mind it that much, she quickly goes back to coloring.

“We’ll dance some other time, okay?” Sarah offers her and she nods happily.

“Can I dance with Uncle Mitch too?” she questions and Mitch just smiles down at her.

“Of course,” he hums, curling an arm around Sarah’s waist. “I have a meeting in ten so I’ll head out, I’m gonna pick James up in the afternoon, alright?” He kisses Sarah’s temple before pulling Harry into a brotherly hug. “Y/N, it was so nice to meet you and thank you for everything again,” he smiles at you, enveloping you in a quick hug as well.

“See you soon,” you smile back before he waves his last goodbye and leaves. “Who’s James?” you ask curiously.

“James is our son. He is turning three this year,” Sarah beams proudly.

“Oh! You two already have a son, that’s great! I’ll make sure to snap a bunch of photos of him too,” you chuckle.

“Please, our house is already packed with pictures, but there’s just never enough,” Sarah laughs.

The three of you chat a little longer while Izzy is busy with her coloring, talking about the wedding and whatnot, Harry invites her and Mitch over for dinner sometime and she happily says yes before business is calling her so she heads out as well.

“Okay, come one, little Sunshine. Let’s get home, Rosaline will be over soon for your piano lesson,” you smile down at Izzy who throws all her coloring stuff into one of Harry’s drawers before hopping off the leather seat.

“I’ll see you in the afternoon, okay?” Harry leans down and kisses the top of her head before pressing his lips to her cheek as well.

“Bye daddy, have a good day!” she calls out, grabbing your hand as you head to the door, Harry following behind.

“Mr. Styles, you have a meeting in five with—“ one of the assistants speaks up, but Harry stops her.

“I know, tell him I’ll be down in a minute. And please call Isaac to remind him about his deadline tomorrow,” he asks in that voice again you heard yesterday when Sarah called. There’s just something so intimidating yet exciting in the way he bosses around, but not like an asshole. He is a man in power, but he surely knows how to use it for the good.

“I forgot to talk to you about the time Izzy is spending at my mum’s, please remind me to go over it with you tonight, alright?” Harry asks and you nod as the elevator’s door opens and the two of you walk in.

“Bye daddy!” Izzy waves at him.

“Bye baby, be good! Bye Y/N!” he smiles as the door starts to close.

“See you later,” you smile back before he disappears from your sight.

The meeting with Sarah and Mitch got you buzzing, because it’s gonna be such an intimate yet beautiful wedding and those are your favorite. You can’t wait to start snapping the pictures and make their memories last forever of their big day.

You want to say thank you to Harry for suggesting you to them, so while Izzy is with Rosaline, you make a quick round to the grocery store and get everything you need to make some cupcakes, knowing well Harry loves those. He once told you that he could easily eat a dozen of those if he had the chance, so you think it’s gonna be the perfect way to thank him.

You keep the usual schedule, but after your little learning session in the afternoon, instead of heading out to the backyard to play, you suggest you bake the cupcakes together and Izzy is more than happy to help you.

It doesn’t take long for the kitchen to turn into a warzone, ingredients spilled to the counter all over the place, some music is playing in the background and you’ve been struggling to figure out how to use the different machines around the super modern kitchen.

You go all out with the decorations, you even bought some food coloring so you can make the cupcakes different colors and mess around with the icing and cream as well. You get so busy with the task on hand that time flies by faster than you expected. The two of you are still working on the decorating when the front door opens and Harry walks into the mess you’ve created in the past hours.

“What is doing on here?” he chuckles, seeing Izzy’s hair covered in flour, whipped cream on her nose and cheeks as she is throwing some sprinkles on one of the cupcakes, sitting on the kitchen island counter while you are finishing up another one.

“Oh! I wanted it to be a surprise!” you pout. “Izzy and I are making you cupcakes!”

“Why do I deserve a surprise?” he asks smirking, walking farther into the kitchen as he looks around, finding the mess quite amusing, rather than annoying. Harry knows well enough that it’s not easy to keep the place around you clean when there are kids involved in any process.

“I wanted to thank you for suggesting me to Sarah and Mitch. It was really nice of you.”

“Already told you it was nothing. Of course I suggest them a good photographer if I know one.”

You just smile at him shrugging, because no matter how hard he is trying to play it down, it meant a lot to you.

“Look daddy!” Izzy holds up her cupcake, half of it is covered with sprinkles, the other half is decorated with chocolate chips and she is clearly proud of it.

“That looks great, baby!” he smiles proudly, kissing the top of her head. “You have so much stuff on you, you could easily turn into a cupcake too,” he jokes, making her laugh.

“Be a cupcake with me, daddy!” Izzy beams and before Harry could stop her, she wipes some whipped cream to his face, getting him dirty as well. You gasp before letting out a laugh, Izzy shrieks happily seeing her dad all dressed up fancily and licking the cream off his face.

“Isabelle Styles, you have no idea what you just brought on yourself,” he warns in a low tone, already making Izzy scoot backwards as she is trying to escape, but she doesn’t have anywhere to go, the kitchen island’s edge is right behind her butt. However, she doesn’t realize it and tries to push herself back some more, deeming herself to fall right off, but before anything could happen Harry scoops her into his arms, pressing his creamy face to her cheek, making an even bigger mess that’s already there. Izzy is moving around, laughing and screaming as Harry gets some more cream to his hands, wiping it onto her anywhere he can.

“Oh my God, you are wasting all the cream!” you call him out, but it’s such a sweet moment to witness, you would never blame him for wasting it.

Harry stops attacking Izzy and turns to you with a dark look in his eyes.

“Izzy, I think Y/N looks too clean, doesn’t she?” he cocks his head to the side, exchanging a look with the girl in his arms.

“She does!” Izzy agrees as you start backing away from them. Harry sets Izzy down to her feet, grabbing the bowl with the remaining of the cream. He gets a handful for himself and lets Izzy fill her palms as well.

“Oh no, don’t you dare!” you warn them, holding up your pointing finger at them, trying to escape, but you are kind of cornered against the counter.

“It’s my house, I do whatever I want to,” he smirks, so full of himself and in a blink of the eye, they both launch themselves at you and Hell breaks loose.

They start whipping cream on you anywhere they can and when it’s gone, Harry just decides to go for anything else he can reach. Izzy is throwing sprinkles around while thanks to Harry, flour is flying everywhere, completely destroying the kitchen.

“Stop! No! I surrender!” you scream, fighting back, but it’s two against one.

“No mercy!” Harry shouts, so excited, as if he just transformed into a little boy, throwing mud around.

You grab his wrists when he tries to pour sugar on top of your head straight from the contained, holding him back, but he is so much stronger than you, it’s kind of a lost fight already. You don’t even realize how close he is, your chests are almost touching as he has you pinned against the counter, faces only about two inches away from each other. His wrist slides out of your hold, but he drops the sugar to the counter next to you. You try to snatch it to use his own weapon against him, but he is quick to stop you, forcing your hand down next to your side, but in the process he managed to bring you even closer, flushed against his hard chest and your lips part at the sudden mood change that he must be feeling as well, because the playfulness disappears from his eyes pretty fast and it’s replaced by something entirely different, something you can’t even read, because you haven’t seen it in his eyes before. And then…

Then you see his eyes flicker down to your lips, just a moment before yours move down to his. It’s that moment. It’s that exact moment when you just know you both are thinking about kissing, but you don’t know if it’s going to happen or now. You’re not even sure you want it to happen.

You fucking moron, of course you want to kiss him! That tiny voice in the back of your mind screams at you. In a heartbeat, it seems like he is about to move closer, but then the moment is interrupted and completely destroyed when a woman walks into the house, scaring you to death.

“Wow, it seems like Izzy took over control completely,” she comments, walking further into the house as you jump away from Harry, suddenly very aware of the mess you’ve made.

“Gemma, what—“ Harry starts, but he is quickly cut off.

“Don’t ask what I’m doing here, I literally texted you today that I would come by and you said it’s okay.” She gives him a look before her eyes move over to you as you’re trying to somehow clean everything up, but it’ll take a little longer probably. “You must be Y/N, hi! I’m Gemma, Harry’s sister.”

She steps over to you holding out a hand and you reach for it, but then stop, seeing that your palms are all floury. You both let out a chuckle, deciding to just move over the handshake.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you, though it would have been better if we met when I didn’t have whipped cream in my eyes,” you joke.

“Auntie Gemma, we made cupcakes, do you want one?” Izzy runs up to her, holding up a cupcake that was finished, unlike the majority that are going to have poor decorations, since Harry and Izzy decided to use everything in the fight. Now it’s the floor that’s covered with icing, cream and sprinkles.

“Maybe later, sweetie, but they look awesome!”

As you wipe your face with a kitchen towel, you can feel Harry’s gaze on you, your heart beating so fast in your chest, it’s pushing all the blood up into your head that’s already feeling dizzy. What would have happened if Gemma didn’t walk in? Would has he kissed you? Or did you misread the situation and it was nothing just part of the game?

You busy yourself with cleaning up as Harry cleans himself a little with a paper towel before stepping closer to his sister.

“I totally forgot you texted, I replied in the middle of a meeting, I think I didn’t process the message.”

“It’s fine,” Gemma sighs. “I’m already used to my little brother forgetting about me,” she teases him, but he just rolls his eyes at her.

“Let me just help Y/N clean up the kitchen and I’ll be right with you. Would you mind cleaning Izzy off?” Harry asks her, but you stop him short.

“Oh, I’ll take care of this, don’t worry,” you assure him, but as his eyes snap over at you, you lose your voice. He clearly felt the moment as well earlier and now it’s kind of getting awkward, you don’t really want to be left alone with him right now. Not until you figure out what this whole thing was.

“Are you sure? I mean I was the one who started it and—“

“It’s fine,” you try your best to smile at him without overheating. He is standing several feet away from you, but you can still feel what it felt like to be pushed up against him.

Harry hesitates, his eyes following your every move while you are trying to busy yourself and act normal, while you are literally crumbling inside. You almost kissed your boss in the middle of his kitchen, you need a moment to process that.

“Alright, let me know if you need help,” he murmurs before picking Izzy up and heading upstairs to clean them both, Gemma following them right behind. When they are out of your sight, you lean against the counter, breathing out heavily.

Meanwhile upstairs, Harry hands Izzy his phone to play some games while he cleans her and himself off in the bathroom. Gemma sits on the edge of the tub, eyeing her brother curiously, which Harry notices.

“What?” he asks, stripping Izzy out of her dirty clothes.

“What was all that about?”

“What do you mean?”

“I saw you, Harry. You were like, ready to snog Y/N right then and there when I walked in. Did I miss something?”

“No idea what you’re talking about and I would appreciate it if you didn’t bring this up when it’s not just the two of us,” he replies firmly, looking down at the girl who is obliviously tapping on the screen. Gemma just rolls her eyes before leaving the two of them alone.

Wandering down she finds you scrubbing the counters from the mess you’ve made, deep in your thoughts. Seeing her walk in, you shoot her a smile, not sure what to say or if you even should say anything, but when she grabs a towel for herself and starts helping, you speak up.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it.”

“Don’t be silly, I’m happy to help,” she smiles, as she starts cleaning the kitchen island up. “So how do you like working for my brother, so far? He mentioned what happened with the daycare. Honestly, those mothers are entitled spoiled brats,” she scoffs making you smile.

“They weren’t too delightful even before the whole fiasco,” you chuckle softly. “But I really like it here. There are a lot more perks and it’s so much easier to focus on one kid than to have fifteen at a time,” you point out making her laugh.

“Yeah, I’m good with my two, don’t think I could handle more.”

“Oh, you have kids?”

“Yes, two sons. Beau is turning ten this year and Jasper turned six in January.” Gemma pulls out her phone from her back pocket and unlocking it she shows you the homescreen that has a picture of two adorable boys sitting on a bench next to each other, munching on a big bowl of strawberries. The younger one, Jasper has a red sunhat on his head while Beau is rocking some cool sunglasses.

“Oh my God, they look so much like you!”

“I get that a lot and honestly, they really should!” Gemma scoffs. “It took twenty fucking hours for Jasper’s big head to come out!”

“Wow that sounds way too much,” you laugh and Gemma nods with a tired, but clearly proud smile.

“Yeah, but it was worth it. Anyway, after my two boys, Izzy is the little princess of the family.”

“The boys get along well with her?” you ask as you both keep cleaning.

“They act like her big brothers, they get so protective over her!”

“That’s cute.”

“Yeah, they really are. My mom has this summer barbeque every year, if Harry doesn’t invite you with him then I’m doing it now, because you need to see how crazy out family gets,” she smirks at you. “All of our cousins and the kids are there, it’s a whole parade.”

“I’m sure it’s a lot of fun,” you smile at her. “One of my friends in high school had a really big family and they always invited me to birthdays at their place, I loved how lively and buzzing it was always.”

“Yeah, it’s nice to get together from time to time,” she nods smiling. “So do you have a boyfriend or something?” she asks then, implying that she is not even sure if you are playing on the team she is assuming.

“Oh, um, no. It’s just me for now. So no boyfriend for me.” Your answer, making sure it gives her the information she was trying to get as well.

“Are you done interrogating her, Gem?” Harry appears from upstairs, Izzy running ahead of him before smashing herself against Gemma’s legs.

“We’re just having a chat, is that a crime now?” she rolls her eyes. “Swear to God, he is such a control freak sometimes,” she then adds turning to you.

“Would you stop offending me in my own house?” Harry gives him a look. Gemma leans down and picks Izzy up into her arms.

“Izzy, you really should tell your dad to pull the stick out of his as—“

“You are not finishing that!” Harry cuts her off and you can’t push your laughter back. Harry’s eyes meet yours over Gemma’s shoulders and he realizes that you are still all dirty and messed up. “Y/N, go and take a shower if you want. We’ll take this over, alright?”

It wasn’t an order, but you feel like it was a very firm suggestion. He is clearly uncomfortable with you talking to Gemma and though you’re not sure why, you don’t want to upset him, so just nodding you drop the kitchen towel and head upstairs to clean yourself up.

“I hope you didn’t say anything to upset her,” Harry comments as he takes over the cleaning. Gemma grimaces.

“What could have I possibly said? I was just trying to get to know her!”

“You are always a little too up in my business, Gems,” he sighs.

“Daddy, can I watch some TV, please?” Izzy asks, tugging on his pants.

“Sure. Do you need me to switch it on?”

“No, I’m a big girl, I can do it,” Izzy nods before running off, leaving the siblings alone.

“Didn’t know Y/N was your business,” Gemma tilts her head to the side. Harry opens his mouth to defend himself, but nothing comes out. He was caught with this one. “Oh my God. I knew I walked in on something, you have a thing for her!” Gemma gasps with wide eyes.

“Stop with this! You and Niall are like some middle schoolers, it’s so fucking annoying!”

“So Niall sees it too, huh?”

“Niall is an idiot,” he points out. “He is… obsessed with this idea that I should start dating again and he thinks I should make a move on Y/N.”

“Well, he is an idiot, but he has a point.”

“No he doesn’t!” Harry argues, but Gemma just rolls her eyes.

“So you want to die alone? Is that your plan?”

Harry has always hated his sister’s bluntness. She never held herself back when it came to giving her opinion, whether it was wanted or not. But what Harry hates even more is that most of the time… Gemma is right.

He doesn’t want to die alone, no one wants that, but being with someone is a hard topic for Harry after losing the person he thought he would spend the rest of his life with. Even just the thought makes him feel like he is doing something bad, like he shouldn’t even be thinking about anyone but his wife, even years after the tragedy.

“Harry, look…” Gemma breathes out leaning against the counter next to her brother. “I know it’s a fucked up situation and I know things are still not in the right place in your head. But eventually you’ll have to move on. We all want to see you happy and I think that… I think Maggie would want that for you as well.”

Harry tries not to physically cringe at the name, the familiar pain is already clutching his heart, like it has been since the day of the accident. Some days are easier, some days are harder, but Gemma is right. Things are still not in the right place in his head and he knows that, he is just not sure how to fix it at this point.

“I’m not saying you should date Y/N, I’m not Niall to force anyone on you. I’m just telling you to try to get out a little more, just to test the waters. But you obviously like her so if it happens to be her, it wouldn’t be a big deal, if you ask me.”

Gemma shrugs and goes back to the cleaning while Harry keeps his swirling thoughts to himself. Two of the most important people have told him the same thing recently and though part of him wants to stubbornly go against it, his rational side knows that they might be right.

But not much can be done when a man is still blaming himself for the death of his own wife. Because that’s exactly the case when it comes to Harry and no one really knows that the thought has been haunting him for years now…

After taking a quick shower, washing your hair and changing into clothes that are not covered in flour, you join Harry and Gemma downstairs and insist on finishing the rest of the cleaning while they move out to the terrace to talk. The evening goes by peacefully, Harry decides to order dinner and Gemma joins the three of you at the dining table.

You love watching the dynamic between them and they truly seem to be very close. Gemma likes to embarrass Harry with stories from their childhood and you are enjoying them all a little too much maybe, but it’s nice to think that he wasn’t always this confident businessman.

“It was so good to meet you, Y/N!” Gemma hugs you goodbye after dinner.

“You too!”

“Bye Izzy, come and give a smooch for your favorite auntie!” Squatting down she lets Izzy wrap her arms around her neck as she kisses her cheek sloppily.

“Bye Gemma,” she singsongs. Harry pulls his sister into a hug as well before walking her out.

You start washing the dishes, Izzy talking to you about whatever show she was watching earlier on TV. When Harry returns he tells you to just leave the rest of the cleaning up for him while he bathes Izzy, but you don’t listen to him and finish up while they are upstairs.

Bringing your laptop down you settle on the couch and just start scrolling through social media, reading articles and whatnot, the TV quietly playing in the background. You send out an email regarding the wedding you are attending this weekend, making sure everything is in place.

When Harry emerges again he joins you on the couch with a tired sigh.

“Thanks for washing the dishes but you really should just leave it to me when I ask you to,” he smiles at you softly.

“It’s not a big deal, I like to be useful,” you chuckle shutting your laptop down.

“As if you’re not useful enough already,” he huffs smiling to himself. “Oh, before I forget, I wanted to talk to you about Izzy going to my mum’s.”

“Oh, yeah, you mentioned it earlier.”

“Yeah. So she is going to spend a week at my mother’s and I timed it to line up with Sarah and Mitch’s wedding. So I’ll leave her at my mum’s Sunday evening and pick her up the next Sunday which lines up perfectly with the wedding on Saturday. That week is obviously free for you as well, like a paid vacation,” he chuckles.

“Sounds good. How far does your mother lives from here?”

“Just a few hours, not that horrible of a drive. If you’re up for it, we can carpool to the wedding and then pick her up together right from there and head home.”

“Yeah, that works for me, thanks,” you nod.

Harry stays and turns his attention on the TV, seemingly pretty unbothered while you still haven’t stopped thinking about what happened in the kitchen earlier. Glancing over at Harry it appears that it’s not that big of a deal for him, so it makes you settle with the thought that it’s not one for you either.

“Good night, Harry,” you smile at him grabbing your laptop and phone as you rise from your seat.

“Nigh, Y/N,” he smiles as you round the couch and head upstairs, but you stop at the bottom of the stairs, lancing back at the mop of locks that’s visible from him from behind. You watch him run his fingers through his hair and you let out a shaky breath, knowing well you did not convince yourself that it was nothing. Not for you, at least.

Because you wanted him to kiss you.

The wedding you’re attending is held on a farm owned by the parents of the bride. The whole barn was transformed into this very country like fairytale location, lots of fairy lights and candles along with some nice, pastel colored flowers with a hint of purple between them.

Everything goes planned. Arriving you meet first with the groom and then with the bride in their separated rooms of the house, going over everything they want just one last time before you get down to work, snapping loads of pictures from them getting ready for the big day.

Emily, the bride is a chatty girl and all her bridesmaids are her sisters, coming from a big family with five daughters, she is the second oldest. The groom, Jesse is a few years older than Emily, but they are such a cute couple and they are clearly so madly in love, it’s always nice to see people be so happy with the right person.

You keep going back and forth between the groom and the bride and later you do the first look thing as well, when Jesse stands outside in the field and Emily walks up behind him, letting him see her for the first time. It really is always such a special moment and you tear up as well, watching Jesse fall speechless upon seeing his beautiful fiancé.

As the ceremony is about to start and the guests slowly take their seats on the two sides of the aisle, you make a quick trip down there to make sure you are using the right lenses, not wanting to change a lot when the ceremony has started. You stop in the corner, just trying out if you can shoot some pictures of the guests as well with the lens you are planning to use, you take a look around using the camera and that’s when you almost faint.

You would pick out that face from any, it has grown to you way too much, but you didn’t think you’d ever see him again. Lowering the camera you stare at the tall figure with parted lips, blinking a few times just to make sure it’s who you think it is.

But it is in fact your ex-fiancé, Keith, and to make it even worse, the woman standing next to him with his arm around her waist is the one he cheated on you with. They are still together and now you are staring right at them.

Tears sting your eyes as you try to look for a way to escape before he spots you, though you know he’ll see you sooner or later, but right now they are standing right at the entrance of the barn and you can’t avoid walking past them.

Keeping your head down you try to stay unnoticed as you march towards the exit, but you apparently, you are out of luck.

“Y/N? Is that you?” Keith calls after you just when you thought you were successful in sneaking out. Stopping in your tracks you seriously think about just running off, pretending like you didn’t even hear him, but it’s kind of too late and it would be ridiculous. So turning around on your heels, you plaster the fakest smile on your lips as you look at him.

“Keith, hi!” you breathe out, taking just a few steps closer to him, still keeping some distance between the two of you. Stella, the lucky woman on his arm blinks at you and at first you’re not even sure she realizes who you are or if she even knows you. The longer she looks at you the more certain you become that she indeed does not know that you’re the woman Keith cheated on with her. Nice.

Keith realizes that the two of you have been staring at each other awkwardly, so clearing his throat he quickly introduces the two of you to each other.

“Um, Y/N, this is Stella. Stella, this is… Y/N.”

You can tell he was thinking about using titles, but he decided to leave it at that, though it would have been a lot more interesting if he just titled the two of you.

Y/N, this is the woman I cheated on you with, who is my girlfriend now. Stella, this is Y/N, to whom I was engaged when I was fucking you!

You flash her a quick, not too honest smile and it seems like she is catching onto that something is not right, but she can’t tell for sure.

“What are you doing here?” Keith asks, a little harsher than you would have liked him to talk to you, but it’s kind of understandable. Seeing each other after what happened is not a pleasant experience for either of you, you assume. You hold up the camera as the answer for the stupid question and Keith furrows his eyebrows at you. “Oh, you still to the photography thingy?”

“Thingy?” you ask, quite offended. Keith always belittled your love for photography. He thought it was just a hobby, something that should stay just a hobby and not get turned into anything more. He once told you during a fight that it takes your time away from more important things, like doing chores. That was one of the most sexist things he has ever said to you and you should have packed your stuff right then and there. But you didn’t, stuck around for three more months before you found out about the cheating.

“Well, this thingy is kind of a side job for me,” you inform him.

“Oh. That sounds… fun,” he nods, but it’s clearer than daylight that he thinks it’s just a waste of time. Good thing he has no business in anything about you anymore.

“Um, I’m gonna go now, but I guess see you two around.” You shoot them another fake smile before turning around and walking away from this conversation straight from Hell.

Marching away from the barn you rush into the nearest bathroom you can find. You need a minute. Or maybe two… five. This did not just happen. You didn’t just face your cheating ex-fiancé with the woman he cheated on you, what kind of sick movie plot is this you found yourself in?

Placing your camera to the counter near the sink you wash your hands and sprinkle some water to your face as well before you lean to the edge of the sink, staring at your reflection in the mirror. You look like you’ve just seen a ghost and quite frankly, you would have been happier with the ghost than with Keith and Stella.

You’ve been doing alright since the breakup, but it’s obvious that only because you didn’t have to see Keith. Following the blowup when you found the explicit texts in his phone, you only had to face him twice and never since then. It’s easier to be okay when you don’t have to look at the person who hurt you most all the time, but coming face to face with him now really threw you off, especially with Stella on his arm. The fucker did not only cheat on you with her, but he went straight into a relationship with her and she probably doesn’t even know that she was just the sidechick in the beginning. If you were really evil, you’d go up to her and enlighten her about who you really are, but you are not one to cause a scene. Keith kept the two of you apart consciously, he never let you go into his office because he wanted Stella to think that he is a single man while he was engaged. Sickening to think how slyly he played the both of you and even after his little plan failed, he kept lying to the poor girl and lured her into a relationship. You wonder if he is already fucking another girl behind her back.

Your fingers start to turn white, gripping the edge of the sink tightly so you loosen up a bit, shaking your arms and shoulders off to pull yourself together. You fix your makeup and run your fingers through your hair quickly to give it some volume before grabbing the camera from the counter and heading out. However shocking it is to be at the same place as Keith again, you have a job to do right now and the bride and groom are expecting some amazing photos and that’s exactly what you’re gonna deliver.

You manage to busy yourself to the point where you are able to forget about Keith’s existence for most of the time. Following the happy couple around you don’t get too much free time, the camera is glued in front of your face basically and it brings you some peace. For a while.

Emily and Jesse disappear for an outfit change and it gives you a short break since they didn’t want that to be photographed, only when they return. So you get yourself a virgin cocktail from the bar and head outside to get some fresh air. You text back Heather and Trevor and then just scroll through Instagram, enjoying some alone time from the buzzing you’ve been around all day.

“Y/N!”

Turning to your right you spot Keith walking towards you, this time alone, but it doesn’t stop you from rolling your eyes.

“What do you want?” you mumble under your breath.

“Just… though we could chat for a little. It’s been a long time.”

“Not enough,” you retort. “And I would like to skip the chatting.”

“Come on, you can’t be still that mad at me,” he chuckles and you almost punch him in the face right then and there.

“Well I am. So go back to your little girlfriend and leave me alone.”

“I know things didn’t end too well, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be civil towards each other.” You can’t help the laughter that bubbles from your throat. He can’t be serious, trying to act like the bigger person now after everything he has done to you. This has got to be a joke.

“This is me being civil, because I’m not throwing anything at you. So leave me the fuck alone, let me do my job and then we hopefully don’t see each other again.”

“Come on. You don’t miss me, baby?” he smirks at you, completely ignoring what you just told him. You physically cringe at the pet name he just called you and you take a step away from him, needing the distance more than ever.

“I don’t. Now leave.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Too fucking bad. Now leave!” you raise your voice, but it does nothing. He is still standing there, looking at you like he didn’t completely destroy you just about a year ago.

“Heard that you haven’t dated anyone since we broke up.”

“Are you asking around after me?” you scowl.

“We have a few mutual friends,” he shrugs. “Is it because you still want me?”

“My dating life is none of your business, Keith. And I don’t want you. Quite frankly, I don’t even know how I could ever want you, so now please let me enjoy my break and leave me alone.”

“Y/N, I just—“ Keith reaches for your hand, but you pull back before he could touch you, holding up a finger at him you start talking slowly and very clearly so the message goes through.

“Don’t ever fucking touch me or talk to me. I want nothing to do with you, you’re a manipulating, cheating, egoistic asshole who ruins the life of others. I’m telling you this for the last time, Keith: leave me the fuck alone.”

He looks a bit stunned at your harsh response, but you couldn’t care less if you’ve hurt him. He did way worse things to you than snapping at you. As you walk past him to head back into the barn, he doesn’t let the chance to punch you in the stomach with his words one last time.

“I wish I could say you were a good fuck, but that wouldn’t be true. Good luck finding some lowlife loser who would even think about marrying you!”

Every fiber in your body is screaming to launch yourself at him and punch him until he is unconscious, because that’s exactly what he deserves. The tears are already stinging your eyes, but you don’t give him the satisfaction to see you react to his words. So swallowing hard you just keep on walking until you are out of his sight, bottling up the sobs and tears for the time when you’re home and on your own.

It’s past two am when you arrive home, drained and exhausted, both emotionally and exhausted. Following the conversation you had wit Keith he didn’t try to talk to you anymore, but you could always feel his eyes on you, wherever you were, as if he wanted to see if you are watching him too, but you weren’t. Looking at him would have been too painful so you tried your best to keep your eyes away from him through the night.

You know damn well that what he told you when you were leaving was just to get a reaction out of you, to get you upset enough to start a fight with him, it’s just who he is, he enjoys having the last word and the higher ground in every situation, but you didn’t want to be his partner in his stupid games this time. However it still hurt, what he said.

Walking into the dead silent house you kick your shoes off, drop your keys into the little bowl next to the door and head to the kitchen to get yourself some water. Pouring yourself a glass you lean against the counter and as you stare ahead of you, nothing can stop the tears from falling.

Everything you kept bottled up during the afternoon and evening just hits you all at once, making you break down heavier than any time in the past months. You sob and cry, letting it all out until your head feels like exploding, but you still can’t stop. You were not ready to face the man that broke your heart like no one before.

In the middle of your breakdown you don’t even realize the footsteps coming from the stairs.

“Y/N?” Harry’s voice calls out, snapping you out of your pity party. He immediately sees that you’ve been crying like a baby, no doubt, but you still try to wipe your cheeks and eyes, pretending like everything is totally fine.

“Harry! What are you doing up so late?” you breathe out hoarsely.

“Just wanted to get some water, but have you been crying? What happened, are you alright?” he starts bombarding you with questions, clearly worried about you, seeing you in this state.

“Everything is fine, I just… had a rough night,” you chuckle through your tears that are still rolling down your cheeks, those bastards!

“A rough night doesn’t make you sob like this. What happened?” Rounding the kitchen island he stops in front of you, not sure how to approach the situation, but it’s kind of sweet how he wants to help, but doesn’t know how.

“I, uhh—I met my… ex-fiancé tonight. He was at the wedding I worked at,” you mumble shutting your eyes closed.

“Did he hurt you? Y/N, if he laid a hand on you, I swear—“ “No, he didn’t hurt me,” you shake your head before adding: “Well, not physically.”

“Come on, let’s sit down for a bit.” He gently takes your hand and pulls you to the couch in the living room, making you sit before he plops down next to you. “Tell me what happened.”

“It’s really stupid, I shouldn’t be this upset about it, but I just… It hurt and I can’t change it,” you whine, wiping some more tears away.

“I’m sure it’s not stupid. Tell me what happened!”

“He was there with the woman he cheated on me with. They are basically a couple now, but she doesn’t even know that Keith was engaged to me when they started dating, so it’s really fucked up. And it wouldn’t have been that big of a deal, because, you know, fuck him, he can do whatever he wants, it’s not my business anymore, but then he came up to me and tried to chitchat with me, which I didn’t really want, of course.”

Harry listens carefully, giving you his undivided attention while you fumble with the hem of your shirt, kind of avoiding to look him in the eyes. Part of you is afraid you’d see judgment in them and you don’t think you would be able to handle that.

“I asked him to leave me alone, but he just kept talking and then I snapped at him a little harsher and when I was walking away he…”

You scowl again, hearing his words play in your head so clearly, as if he was standing behind you, repeating them to you. Harry reaches out and he gently covers your hand with his warm palm, giving it a gentle squeeze, letting you know that he is patiently waiting, not rushing you to talk. Taking a deep breath you blink your tears away before continuing.

“He basically said that I wasn’t even a good fuck and no man will want to marry me.”

“Jesus fuck, what kind of asshole did you date, Y/N?” Harry snaps in horror and it’s kinda funny, makes you laugh through your tears.

“Seems like the worst kind,” you mumble with a bitter chuckle. “I know I shouldn’t have let his words get to my head, but… it’s easier said than done. I feel like such a loser,” you breathe out, your lips trembling as the tears are threatening to flow again.

“Don’t blame yourself for having feelings, it’s completely normal. Of course his words hurt, he once meant a lot to you and he probably knows that too, that’s why he tried to use it against you. What he said held no truth.”

“You think so?” you ask, voice barely more than just a whisper as you finally look at him. His green irises appear so warm as he smiles at you, squeezing your hand again. He scoots a little closer, his knee bumping against the side of your thigh.

“Y/N, I know so,” he chuckles. “That guy was a proper idiot for what he did to you. You didn’t deserve any of that and any many would be lucky to have you as their wife.”

“Really?” you pout, feeling so touched and loved from his words. It’s exactly the reassurance you needed.

“Absolutely,” he nods smiling sweetly.

Everything that happened today messed with your head big time. And now sitting with Harry on the couch, listening to him telling you how worthy you are of love and happiness, it completely throws you off. Ever since that moment in the kitchen before Gemma walked in, you’ve been nonstop thinking about what would have happened and it made you notice even the tiniest things about him.

Harry Styles is a man who is clearly a sight for the eyes, with his chiseled jawline, pink lips and gorgeous green eyes, the duality of his powerful and business appropriate attires he wears during the day and the tattoos hidden under his dress shirts, you’d have to be blind to say that he is not an attractive man. But on top of everything on the outside, he is a wonderful person on the inside and it twists your head more than you’d like it.

Your brain switches off for a moment, or just the rational side, but you completely stop thinking as you stare at each other. The intimacy and emotionality of the moment pushes all your common sense to the side as your gaze wanders down his lips.

The thought of kissing him comes fast and before you could even stop yourself, you move forward and press your lips to his. The touch of his lips against yours is sweet and warm and kind of intoxicating, but in just a blink of the eye your rationality gets a grip of you and your eyes pop open in realization of what you just did. Pulling back you gasp and cover your mouth in shock, feeling your whole inside trembling at the thought of getting yourself fired by this move.

Harry seems frozen and quite shocked as well, his lips are parted as he stays still in his spot.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I-I don’t know what’s gotten into me! Harry, I’m sorry, I promise—“

You start rambling in panic, but you don’t get to finish. Harry moves forward, his hand coming to the back of your head as he pulls you in for another kiss, this time making it a lot more passionate and even your tongues get involved. He is kissing you hard and you almost moan into his mouth when you feel his other hand come to your thigh, squeezing it just enough to send a shockwave up your spine. Your hands come up to the back of his hair and you hold onto him for dear life, carrying the kiss on like you’re two teenagers in your parents’ basement, doomed to get caught any moment. Harry goes in again and again, tugging on your bottom lip, licking into your mouth and making your insides twist just from having his lips on yours.

And then you both let go of each other, needing some time to breathe and you slowly realize what just happened. You both stare at each other in disbelief, completely shocked at your own actions, but neither of you have any idea what should happen next.

You let go of each other, sitting back to your normal positions, awkwardly breathing heavily and you realize you cannot deal with this right now. You are way too drained and tired to make it make sense so you decide to just… call it a night.

“I’ll head to bed,” you quietly inform him as you stand up from the couch, walking like a zombie, the shock still clouding your judgment.

“Good night,” Harry mumbles, just as confused as you are.

“Good night,” you nod and basically sprint up the stairs and don’t stop until you shut your door behind you.

Leaning your back against it, you slide down to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest as you stare into the darkness for long minutes. Quite some time passes by before you hear Harry walk upstairs, his door opens and then closes before silence falls on the house again. With a blank mind, you push yourself up, take a quick shower and just go to bed, ignoring everything that has happened today. You’ll deal with it in the morning.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

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mrsalwayswrite · 3 years

Text

To Call Forth Love - Chapter 10

I’m sorry its taken me so long to update. I haven't had much time to write lately due to....well, life. But here we are and its long, so hopefully that makes up for the length.

Side note- the Norwegian used is from Google translate so....

Warnings: swearing, mild sexual content, Lothbrok family dynamics (yes, its a warning), threats of violence

Words: 15,700 (yep, my longest chapter yet. I packed ALOT into this beast)

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius @evelynshelby @pomegranates-and-blood @heavenly1927 @zuxiezendler @punkrocknpearls @love-all-things-writing @southernbe @ecarroll1978 @breezykpop @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie

Series Masterlist

"Where are we going? I thought we were going to your flat?"

Gyda slyly smiled at Kari, sitting in the passenger seat of her bright yellow Porsche. "Change of plans."

Kari stared at her friend. "I'm scared to ask."

"Torvi asked for female reinforcement. So, we are going to keep her company."

"Ok…. But where is that?"

"At the brothers' house." The blonde answered nonchalantly as she made a quick right-hand turn. "It's tradition. Kind of a last family summer party before it's too cold to swim anymore. They have a pool in their backyard."

Kari felt her stomach drop. Ivar had told her he lived with his three other brothers. Gyda had her own flat while Bjorn and Torvi owned a house nearby. Whenever she tried to ask Ivar about his home, he would shrug off the question or ignore it completely. Eventually she just stopped asking. Curiosity certainly reared its head when she wondered what his home was like. For how much money meant nothing to him, she guessed it was massive and expensive. Maybe he knew she would not fit in and that was why he never brought her? Even through his speeches of wanting her to be his girlfriend, he knew she would not fit into his lifestyle. Why else would he keep her away? It was a valid truth that she had come to terms with. Even if she found herself secretly desperate to ease into his life, she never would.

"Of course, they do…." Kari rolled her eyes at the notion that obviously, there was a pool in their backyard. It fit the stereotype in her mind. Then she thought about what Gyda just said. "Wait. Do you have a swimsuit with you?"

Gyda raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow at her while keeping her eyes on the road. "Don't worry, I've got you covered. Torvi brought an extra of hers for you."

"You had this planned, didn't you? We never were going to your flat, were we?"

"I don't kiss and tell."

"Yes, you do. There was that guy you hooked up with two weeks ago that kept sending you dick pics after."

"That guy was way too proud of his dick. I mean it wasn't even that big."

"I don't want to hear this again." Kari groaned, tugging on her diamond earring. She enjoyed Gyda but she had learned far more about the woman's sex life than she had any desire to know.

"Okay, fine. And yes, Torvi and I planned this. Ivar doesn't know you're coming."

"Why?"

Gyda smirked. "Because he's been so secretive and only Hvitserk has seen you two together. Besides, the rest of the brothers want to meet you. We may be at each other's throats most of the time but we do care for one another."

The brunette let her friend's words sink in. Hvitserk had mentioned the others wanting to meet her, but she had not fully believed it. Sure, she wanted to meet them and was curious after hearing Ivar talk about them, but why would they be interested in her? She glanced down at her clothes, the capri leggings and tank top that were practically a signature look for her. For once, she wished she dressed nicer regularly. "I wish you had said something before."

"You wouldn't have come then. You'd have created some excuse why you couldn't come." Gyda pointed out the obviously painful truth without remorse.

Kari slouched in the passenger seat, butterflies doing somersaults in her belly. Slowly, she pulled her ponytail down, letting her hair hang loose past her shoulders, running her hand through it absent-mindedly in hopes it looked decent.

At a red light, Gyda looked over at her with a bright smile. "It'll be fun."

"I don't know…. isn’t it supposed to be just family?"

"Ubbe sometimes brings his girlfriend but yeah, it's usually just family."

There was another long silence before Kari spoke again, unable to fully conceal her nerves. "You should drop me off and just go. I don't want to intrude."

"You're not. I'm bringing you because there is always way too much testosterone." Gyda groaned, then reached over and swatted Kari's leg. "What are you so worried about?"

"What if they don't like me?" She whispered. The weight of her confession hung over her like a dark cloud.

"What?"

She kept her gaze out the window. "The…. the others. What if they don't like me?"

Gyda laughed. "Kari, don't worry. They will love you. I promise. And if they say anything fucking stupid, I'll slap them or Ivar will stab them. See? Simple."

A smile grew on Kari's face. "That shouldn't make me feel better…. but for some reason it does." Maybe she had already spent too much time with various Lothbroks if the idea of people resorting to violence made her feel better.

"You aren't alone, if anything we'll steal Torvi and Asa away and have a girls' party."

"Asa? That's her daughter, right?"

"Right, and Hali is her son. I swear that boy is going to be a miniature version of Bjorn."

"I've never been around kids much."

Gyda chuckled, waving a hand dismissively. "They are great, Asa is a sweetie who prefers to cuddle in someone's lap. It's Hali who is a bit wild but all his uncles love to play with him. He'll probably be swimming in the pool the whole time anyway."

Still staring out the window, Kari thought about everything Gyda had said. Of course, she was still nervous about just showing up to a family event unannounced, even if she was sort of being kidnapped by Gyda. Some of her nerves faded away with the knowledge that Gyda and Torvi both wanted her there. She really would not be alone. She had friends. She had people that wanted to spend time with her. Hopefully Ivar would be pleased to see her. His potential reaction was the only real wrinkle in her fluctuating confidence.

"Okay. I can do this." She said aloud, wondering if she was trying to fully convince herself.

"Good, cause we're almost there."

Kari stared out the window as they approached a gated community. Gyda showed her ID to a guard who chatted with her like they were old friends. As the yellow Porsche drove by the houses in the community, Kari just stared in awe. She had seen houses, mansions was a better term, like these before but it always amazed her that people lived in them. What did they do with all that space? All of the homes were set back from the road so Kari only caught glimpses of them but it was enough to remind her how out of her element she was.

Finally, they pulled up a long driveway to a massive two-story house. It was white with an insane number of windows, and a huge garage attached on the left side. On the right side looked like an expansive addition that made Kari wonder why they needed more space. The roof was made of some slate gray tiles, with a balcony above the front door and ivy draping elegantly over the corners. There were various sized potted plants and shrubbery around the front of the house and leading down the sides. Several European beech trees were strategically placed in the front yard to block most of the view from the road in an attempt at privacy. Whoever the grounds keeper was, for surely they had one, needed a raise.

Kari could only gape for a long moment, unable to move as she took in the immaculate, beautiful house. To think this was where Ivar lived and he always came over to her tiny townhouse. It was a struggle to tamper down the post embarrassment.

Gyda started talking as she parked in front of the house. The only other vehicle in sight was a silver four-door Audi, that Kari recognized as Torvi's. "Aslaug chose the house for them. When she isn't traveling for work or staying at their family home in Norway, this is where she stays. So, she insisted on this place. Something about the natural sunlight and old aesthetic blending with the new vibe. Or some other shit. I can't remember."

"Huh." Kari said as she followed the blonde out of the car. She noticed there was no mention of the father, Ragnar, and wondered where he stayed but knew it was none of her business so she kept her question to herself. Maybe Ivar would explain it to her.

Gyda opened the solid, wood front door, waltzing in like she had done this a million times. Kari took two steps in and froze. The vaulted ceiling in the foyer was enough to stare at but it was the large chandelier that caused her to stare. The way it caught the afternoon light through the many windows and gently cast it about was truly gorgeous. This view was worth owning the house for itself, in her opinion.

A tugging on her arm made Kari squeak as she found herself suddenly being dragged along like a ragdoll.

"You can stare later, Torvi is waiting for us." Gyda stated, a large purse over her shoulder and her heeled boots clicking on the shiny, wood floor with each step.

Kari caught glimpses of other rooms as they passed down the long, straight hallway. A living room with a TV that took up most of the wall it was on. A kitchen that would make any celebrity chef drool. Pictures and awards displayed along the walls in the hallway that were obviously put up by their mother.

The two finally stepped out into a room with glass walls, where the pool and expansive backyard lay before them. Most likely what used to be a porch before being enclosed. Still being pulled along, Kari followed Gyda through a side door onto the stamped concrete that surrounded the pool and lounge area. A pool in a rectangle shape dominated the area, a diving board on the far end. A quick glance around showed a jacuzzi on the other side, closer to the house, the water bubbling like a cauldron. There was a large grill, several short tables and lounge chairs spread over the stamped concrete. At the far end was an adult size statue of the Buddha with two flowering pots on either side of him and some kind of cheap, plastic crown on his head.

The backyard was several acres wide and at least that many in length. Trees and large shrubs blocked the views of the neighbor's properties and made the place feel almost like a hidden oasis. Further down in a corner was a lovely gazebo with a cobbled stone path leading to it and gardens decorating the way.

"Gyda! What took you so long?!" A distinctly male voice called out.

"I had to pick up a package." She called back, pulling Kari into full view of the others.

The brunette gave a small, self-conscious smile at the many pairs of eyes that she could feel land on her. Before she could really get a good look at who was around, a shout of her name startled her.

"Kari!" Hvitserk jumped up from his lounge chair, wearing only dark green swim trunks, and walked over to her with a beaming smile.

"Hey…. OH!" She started to greet him only to be swallowed into a hug and spun in a circle. Unable to deny him, she hugged him back and laughed. It was funny since last time she saw him, he was in business attire, coming to check on her per Ivar's instructions. Now she could not help but notice his toned body. His form reminded her more of a runner, while she was used to seeing Ivar's muscular torso. A couple tattoos on Hvitserk caught her eye and she wondered if all the brothers had them.

When he finally set her back on her feet, he kept his hands on her shoulders, green eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint. "I didn't know you were coming here."

"Yeah, I didn't know either until Gyda told me on the way."

He chuckled, glancing over her head to his half-sister. "Yeah, not surprising."

"Uh huh. Watch yourself, boy. I could still beat your ass if I wanted too." Gyda quipped.

"Maybe fifteen years ago. You don't have a chance now."

"Keep telling yourself that, Hvitty." She teased, then yelled at Torvi. "You got it?"

As soon as Kari was released by Hvitserk, she could sense a pair of sharp, blue eyes boring into her. Skin prickling under the sensation, she hesitantly looked up and immediately met Ivar's intense gaze right away, as if subconsciously her mind already knew where he was without having to search for him.

Reclined back on a cushioned, lounge beach chair, he wore loose black sweatpants, instead of swim trunks, under his leg braces, but without a shirt. His tattoos were a stark contrast on his skin and shamelessly on full display. Her fingers twitched with the urge to trace them again. It was his penetrating gaze though, the lack of emotion on his handsome face, that made her wonder if being here was a bad idea.

Before she could make a run for it, Gyda grabbed her arm as if sensing her desire to flee. "C'mon, let's get changed."

With one last glance at Ivar, she followed behind Gyda and Torvi, who had joined them, back into the massive house. They headed to the kitchen and Gyda pointed out a bathroom across the way.

Placing the beach bag on the kitchen counter, Torvi dug in it for a moment before murmuring a quiet "here it is" and handed Kari something. "Here. I bought this forever ago but never wore it. Bjorn said he didn't like the colors."

Kari took it, guessing it was the promised swimsuit, and peeked down at the two pieces of clothing in her hands. "Um…. where’s the rest of it?"

Laughing, Gyda rolled her eyes. "Get in there and change or I'll do it for you."

With a concerned look between the swimsuit in her hands and the two blondes staring at her expectantly, Kari finally conceded defeat and stepped into the bathroom. It was only a half bath, with a toilet and sink, but it was still roomy and felt fancy somehow. The mirror above the sink was large and there was a small, pretty flowering plant on the counter that upon inspection, turned out to be real.

Quickly, she changed out of her leggings and tank top and into the swimsuit, figuring it was best that way, like ripping off a band-aid. Plus, if she stopped moving, her nerves would get the better of her and she would somehow find a way to sneak home. Even if she had to crawl through a window. A smile grew on her face remembering Hvitserk's enthusiasm to see her. That had honestly surprised her but she found she did not mind. Hvitserk seemed like a good guy and the little bit of time they had spent together, she felt comfortable with him. He was funny and caring.

Then Ivar's blank face came to mind and all of her excitement slipped away like water down a drain. There had been no acknowledgement, not even the hint of a smile, only a hard stare that made her anxious and self-conscious.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to remind herself what Gyda said. At least the two Lothbrok women wanted her here, and apparently Hvitserk was happy to see her. That was what she needed to focus on and not Ivar's reaction.

Once done changing, she finally took stock of what Torvi had leant her and gasped.

"Oh no. No, no, no. Hell no."

She stared down at the wide-band bikini. The top and bottom both had alternating white and light pink stripes, strangely reminding her of cotton candy. The design was certainly something she would never pick out for herself but she did not hate it. The real problem was the way half her ass cheeks hung out of the bottoms and more of her breasts saw the light of day than they ever had before. Never had she been so exposed. Even swimsuits she bought in the past were never this revealing. Her gaze immediately zeroed in on her fuller hips and thighs, fully exposed. Faint whispers that sounded like her mother's taunts echoed in the recesses of her mind as she stared at herself. There was no way she could go out in this. She would rather wear her leggings and tank top than have anyone see her wearing this. They would all laugh at her.

"Kari? You done yet?" Torvi called through the door.

"I'm…. I’m not coming out in this!"

"Let us see it first!" Gyda shot back.

"But…." Kari tried once again, unsuccessfully, to tuck her breasts into the bikini top. "It's padded!"

"Open this door, Kari." Gyda demanded, suddenly sounding closer.

She took one more look at herself, feeling the embarrassed tears welling in her eyes. With a deep breath, knowing she could not escape Gyda just yet, she opened the door. Immediately her blue-green eyes scanned to make sure it was only Gyda and Torvi in the kitchen before she further opened the door so they could see.

"Shit, Kari, you look great." Gyda said after giving a wolf whistle.

"Half of my butt is hanging out and most of my boobs. I can't wear this out there." She said, almost panicking now.

"No, they aren't, you're overexaggerating."

"Kari," Torvi said kindly, drawing the brunette's frenzied attention, "you're more curvy than I am and let's be honest, your ass and tits are bigger than mine. I'd kill to have a body like yours. You look beautiful. But if you're uncomfortable, I think I have a cover you can wear over it."

"Please." She replied softly, hating how she sounded like a fearful child.

Torvi smiled at her. "I'll be right back."

Swiftly, Kari stepped back into the bathroom before Gyda could say anything. Her nerves felt alight and not in a good way. Grabbing her phone, she scrolled through her Pinterest, anything to distract herself from this nightmare. If it was just Gyda and Torvi seeing her in this, she might have been uncomfortable but she could tolerate it. Even with Ivar she might have shied away some but he always made her feel so desirable that she doubted her nerves would have lasted long. It was the thought of prancing around in this in front of the other brothers, men she had never met, that made her stomach twist into knots and her breathing quicken painfully.

Finally, a gentle knock on the door and a quiet, "It's me," had Kari open it to take the cover from Torvi. It was a solid white oversized V-neck cover with a simple pattern around the neckline. Without wasting a moment, she slipped it on over the bikini, immediately feeling better. The hem of the cover touched the tops of her thighs, higher than she would have liked, but it was better than before.

She looked up, running her hands over the cover. "Thank you."

Torvi smiled softly with understanding. "I understand. I don't wear swimsuits that show my stomach anymore. Stretch marks." She shrugged casually, moving back to slip onto an island stool.

Kari trailed behind her with her bundle of clothes and purse. Without a word, Gyda slipped into the bathroom to change, leaving the other two waiting for her. It was now that Kari really took note of Torvi's swimsuit; it was a classy black and white one piece with thin crisscross straps across the back. The blonde could easily wear a bikini and look amazing in it, but it made Kari feel marginally better that she was not the only one self-conscious about her body. Perhaps that was why Torvi shared about her stretch marks?

"Is it…." Kari started then stopped, leaning against the black marble countertop. Surveying the grand kitchen for a second, hoping to gather her thoughts, she took a deep breath before continuing. "Is it okay that I'm here? Gyda said this is a family event and I don't want to intrude."

Torvi turned to face her fully, green eyes gazing at her before she shrugged again. "Normally we try to keep it just family, Ubbe sometimes brings Margrethe, but I doubt anyone will be upset you're here. Honestly, the brothers keep asking about you, so now maybe they will finally shut up and stop teasing Ivar."

Kari fiddled with the hem of the swimsuit cover. "He didn't seem happy to see me."

"Ivar?" At Kari's nod, Torvi snorted. "I don't think it's you he's upset with. He's a very private person, as I'm sure you know. If I took a guess, I'd say he was keeping you hidden."

"But why?"

"Look, I've known the Lothbroks for about ten years and during that time, I've seen Ivar go through some ups and downs…. well, as much as he lets anyone see. I mostly heard it from Bjorn. Point is, he's allowing you into his inner circle. Hell, you're probably at the center of his inner circle. I saw how he acted with you at the yoga studio. You mean something to him. It's no secret he wants you to be his girlfriend. Maybe he is worried that you'll meet his family and decide we're too much or that you find one of his brothers more attractive or easier to deal with? He pretends to be super confident but it wouldn't be the first time that a woman chose one of the others over him."

Every time Kari heard that, her heart broke once again for Ivar. How many times had he been overlooked because of his legs? Or his harsh demeanor? Something that she was beginning to realize was just to protect himself, to keep others at arm's length. It made her want to hug him and never let him go, to remind him he was more than just his disability. That he was worth being cared about by more than just family.

Kari must have been lost in her thoughts for longer than she realized. Suddenly she was drawn out of her inner musings by Gyda coming out of the bathroom, having changed into a plant print cutout tankini. Of course, looking like she just stepped out of a magazine cover. There had to be something in the Lothbrok blood for everyone to be this damn attractive.

"Are we ready?" She asked, her large bag in hand, presumably with her clothes in it. "Kari, you can put your stuff in here for now."

Torvi touched Kari's shoulder. "Don't worry. If anything, you are here to keep me and Gyda company, okay?"

Kari smiled, finding herself reassured and grateful for the two women. "Thanks." She slipped her clothes and shoes into Gyda's bottomless bag. They stashed their bags in the glass room and then headed back out into the backyard.

Soon as they stepped out, a little girl came running over. Torvi swept her up into her arms gracefully. She turned to Kari with the little blonde girl on her hip. "This is Asa. How old are you, Asa?"

The little girl stared at her mom before shyly tucking her face into the crook of Torvi's neck, while her blue eyes stayed on Kari. After a moment, she held up two fingers.

"You're two?" Kari asked. When the little girl shyly nodded, Kari's smile widened. "I wish I was that old. It's nice to meet you, Asa. I'm Kari."

Torvi pressed a quick kiss to the top of her daughter's head. "Did daddy let you play in the pool yet?"

Asa shook her head.

"Alright, let's go kick his butt. He did promise, didn't he?"

That made the little girl giggle and Kari could feel her heart melting slightly. She was just too cute and most likely spoiled by all her uncles. Even her swimsuit was a purple halter top and green bottom with a little skirt that was very The Little Mermaid-esque.

A happy scream followed by a splash drew Kari's gaze to the pool. A young boy resurfaced laughing loudly. Bjorn, she recognized, was in the pool also, but turned to look up at Torvi as she approached with Asa on her hip.

"Let's go sit down." Gyda slipped her arm through Kari's and pulled her along to where there was a grouping of lounge chairs. Ivar, Hvitserk and a curly-haired blond reclined with beers in hand.

Kari could feel Ivar's gaze tracing over her form as she approached, like fingers trailing over her skin leaving a fire in its wake. She sneaked a peek at him, only to find his ardent gaze on her. She blushed and kept her eyes downward. At least he did not look impassive anymore, but she still felt hesitant.

"Hey boys. What are we drinking this time?" Gyda questioned.

Hvitserk turned the beer bottle to show the label.

"Ew. I don't why you drink that shit. I'm going to get some wine. Kari, you want some?"

"Ah, sure." She murmured.

"Good. You boys be nice to my friend, especially you Ivar." With that Gyda walked back towards the house but not before giving Kari a subtle wink.

"Take a seat, Kari." Hvitserk gestured to an open chair next to him.

For a split second she considered slinking into the seat, anything for the attention to be taken off her, but realized that was not what she actually wanted. It had been two days since she had seen Ivar and the last time they hung out, it was when he returned from his trip to Italy. He had picked her up the next day to take her out to eat but he ended up spending the majority of the time on his phone, yelling into it in a foreign language and seeming on the verge of throwing his phone or punching a wall. She ended up ordering take-out for them that they ate at her townhouse but he was too wired to really relax and left soon after. The next two days he had been busy with work so they could only text. The one time they managed to Face-Time, she could not help but notice his bruised knuckles and when she asked him about them, he said he did some boxing to release stress.

With butterflies doing somersaults in her belly, she took a step closer to stand near Ivar's lounge chair. Tugging on the hem of her cover as she quietly spoke. "Hey, Ivar. Can I sit with you?"

"Oh, you're acknowledging me now?" He snapped, never removing his severe blue eyes off of her.

She blinked owlishly, surprised by his sharp tone. Her stomach dropped to her feet and she could feel an embarrassed flush rising on her cheeks. "Yeah, I'm sorry." She whispered, dropping her chin, unable to meet his eyes anymore. This was all a mistake, she knew it. This only sealed her poor decision.

Shifting to look back at the house, she wondered if she should find Gyda and beg to drive her back home, or if she should find the closest bus stop. Before she could take a step away, a calloused hand snatched hers in a firm grip. Startled, she looked down to see Ivar holding her hand. Her eyes jumped up to stare at him in shock, confused by his conflicting actions. In those vivid, expressive eyes she could easily read the regret in them. Without her conscious decision, her heart softened.

"Sit." He said quietly, what most likely meant to come out commanding but sounded more as a plea. She nodded and allowed him to guide her onto the wide lounge chair next to him.

A furious blush warmed her cheeks when Ivar wrapped an arm around her waist, tucking her into his side and pressing a quick kiss to her temple. What she assumed was his nonverbal apology.

"Hey, this is Sigurd." Hvitserk said, gesturing to the unknown blond sitting with them. "I don't think you've met him yet. Ubbe had to take a call, so you'll meet him later."

"Hi, it's nice to meet you." She said, looking at the other Lothbrok. He had light blond, curly hair in frazzled braids and brown eyes. At first glance she would not have guessed he was one of the brothers, but she figured genetics were always weird. He had a lean body similar to Hvitserk with a tribal tattoo sleeve and a Thor's hammer necklace laying on his bare chest like the other brothers wore.

He silently raised his beer bottle at her, still stretched out in his chair like a lazy cat in the sun.

Thoughtfully she peered up at Ivar, keeping her voice low. "I'm sorry, I didn't know Gyda was bringing me here otherwise I'd have told you. She literally didn't tell me until we were pulling up."

"It's fine." He murmured evenly, but Kari got the feeling that was not how he truly felt.

"Do….do you want me to leave?"

He sighed, his grip around her tightening for a moment, before he seemed to relax. "No. I'm glad you're here. It won't be boring…." a wolfish grin grew as he slid his hand up her exposed thigh sensually, ".... especially if you take off this cover and let me see what's underneath."

"No!" She squeaked, grabbing his roving hand before it could migrate further.

He chuckled. "Come on, kitten…. just a peek?"

"Ivar, no."

"Why not?"

"Its…. it’s scandalous."

Hvitserk raised his hand, a devious smirk on his face. "I want to see."

She covered her face with her hands, embarrassment flooding her. "Oh gods, this was such a bad idea." Then she had to rapidly grasp Ivar's hand as it slipped under the swimsuit cover to caress her hip and trace her bikini bottom. "Ivar…."

"Fine." He slipped his hand back out but splayed it over her exposed thigh. "You can show me later."

Thankfully, Gyda reappeared with a glass of white wine in each hand and another blond male in tow who carried the wine bottle. He had short, cropped hair and a muscular body that spoke of many hours in the gym. Kari wondered if this was the brother that Ivar regularly worked out with.

"Why are you sitting with Ivar? I brought you here! I'm even bringing you wine!" Gyda teased, handing a glass to Kari.

"You also dragged me here unknowingly. Wine is the least you could do." Kari said without thinking, making the others laugh.

"You know damn well you're happy to be here." Gyda winked then took the open lounge chair next to her. "Right, I'm guessing you've been introduced to Sigurd." She flicked a hand in the curly-haired Lothbrok's direction followed by vaguely gesturing to the last unknown brother. "Now this pain in my ass, over here, is Ubbe. Ubbe, this is Kari."

Sitting between Hvitserk and Gyda, Ubbe rolled his blue eyes but leaned forward to shake Kari's hand. "It's nice to finally meet you."

"Yeah, likewise."

Ubbe sat back with an impish glint in his eyes. "So, you're Ivar's girl?"

"Um…. we’re just..." She started, unsure what to say to his family.

Ivar broke in, his single word answer almost coming out in a growl. "Yes."

She whipped her head to look at him, only for him to stare her down as if waiting to see if she could refute his claim. Logically, she knew she should say something, argue that they were only friends. Yet any rebuttal died on her tongue under his fierce gaze. Instead she chose to sip on her wine generously.

"Right." Ubbe finally said, watching the two with an amused look.

Sigurd scoffed loudly before taking a swig of his beer.

"Something you want to say, Sig?" Ivar turned narrowed eyes at his brother.

The curly-haired brother smirked, seeming to debate saying anything. Finally, he sat up and his gaze zeroed in on Kari. "How much does he pay you to fuck him?"

The reaction from those around was instantaneous. Next to her, Ivar tensed, ready to spring up and fight his brother. A sharp reprimand of "Sigurd!" came from both Gyda and Ubbe while Hvitserk pinched the bridge of his nose.

Something rose up inside Kari though. She understood enough to know about the animosity between Sigurd and Ivar. His comment felt more like a cruel jab at Ivar than her. She was just the pathway to try and cause torment between the brothers. But if no one else was going to stand up and defend the dark-haired Lothbrok, she would.

So instead of taking his words personally, she just smiled sweetly at Sigurd, placing a hand on Ivar's thigh as she responded. "He doesn't. I'm happy to do it for free. Besides, he has something you never will."

"And what's that?"

"A cock big enough to pleasure someone….is that why you go through girlfriends so quickly?"

The rising tension evaporated in a flash. Gyda snorted so hard she almost dropped her wine glass. Hvitserk threw his head back laughing while Ubbe tried to cover his smile with his hand. Kari was sure her eyes were comically wide as what she said without thinking sunk in. Her face flushed and she pressed her face against Ivar's shoulder. Sure, she had meant to defend Ivar but she had not meant to be so crass. The statement seemed to fly out of her mouth before her brain could catch up.

Next to her, Ivar laughed as he nuzzled her. She squirmed under his onslaught but also at realizing she just insulted one of Ivar's brothers. Even if it was the one he liked least of all. For a fleeting moment, the idea she had just made herself an enemy crossed her mind.

When she sneaked a peek, Sigurd quickly drained the rest of his beer and walked away murmuring something about getting another one.

"I think you'll fit in, Kari." Ubbe stated, still trying unsuccessfully to hide his amusement.

Kari was unsure of that. She quickly took a large sip of the wine to settle her fraying nerves. What had she been thinking? It hurt to hear Ivar's brother being so blatantly cruel to him and if this was a regular occurrence, no wonder Ivar wanted to spend most of their time at her place.

"I didn't realize you liked my cock so much, kattungen." Ivar whispered salaciously into her ear, drawing her back to the present. His tongue flicked her earlobe, making her jolt. "I think I'll have to give you a reward later."

She shivered at his tone, her core clenching without resistance. It was unfair how just at his husky tone alone, her body betrayed her desire. But they were in public though, in front of his family no less, so she willfully attempted to cool the heat warming her veins. With a smile, she tried to nudge him away from her but he was too strong, only tightening his grip on her and laying a quick kiss to her neck.

"I can't believe I said that." She whispered, hoping only he heard her.

He smirked, an unmistakable fire in his eyes. "It was sexy as fuck."

Thankfully, Torvi came over to join the group, a welcome distraction for Kari as she was sure the fire in Ivar's gaze was enough to set her ablaze and further stoke her own heat.

Torvi settled into Sigurd's now absent spot. "What did I miss?"

"Kari said Ivar's cock is bigger than Sigurd's." Hvitserk stated smugly.

Torvi stared at Kari with a tilt of her head and an amused grin. "Really? And how did we get on the subject of dicks already?"

Some of the group laughed as Kari covered her face once again, mortified that she was the center of attention because of what she thoughtlessly said. She had the sneaking suspicion none of them would ever let her live this down.

"Alright, enough. Come on, it's girl time now." Gyda grabbed Kari's hand and dragged her to her feet, much to Ivar's obvious chagrin. She scoffed, meeting her half-brother's gaze. "I'll give her back later."

The three women wandered over to some open chairs further down from the guys and closer to the Buddha statue. Gyda carried the wine bottle and her glass while Kari carefully held her own glass. Torvi snatched a beer from a nearby cooler as they meandered over. Gyda settled on a single, lounge chair adjacent to a cushioned two-person seat which the other two sat on.

"Alright, we have a very serious matter to discuss. Your answer may or may not break our friendship." Gyda started, leaning forward as she pointed a single finger at the brunette.

Kari found herself straightening in her seat, hand clutching her wine glass tighter.

Eyes intent, Gyda's voice dropped conspiringly. "Who is sexier: Steve Rogers or Bucky Barnes?"

Shock rendered Kari momentarily speechless. At Gyda's serious tone, she had imagined a topic that would involve confessing a secret, not…. not a movie franchise. "Um…. Bucky." She hesitantly answered.

"Yes!!" Gyda shouted, throwing her arms up and almost spilling her wine. "I knew I liked you! Ivar, she is mine now!"

Kari laughed at her enthusiasm; all concern having vanished instantly. "I take it you like him too?"

"Hell yeah. I would willingly choke on his cock or he could pound my pussy to pulp and I wouldn't complain either way."

Torvi shook her head, a hint of a smile tilting the corners of her lips up. "Something's wrong with you."

"You prefer Steve?" Kari inquired, once she recovered from choking on air at Gyda's blunt statement. Her friend always had a way of surprising her, and giving her second-hand embarrassment.

Torvi shrugged. "A tall, handsome blond. That's my kind of man."

Peeking over at Bjorn who was still playing in the pool with both kids, Kari hummed thoughtfully. "Huh. Makes sense."

"No wonder you are with Ivar if you prefer Bucky Barnes."

"But we aren't…. together." Kari fixed her eyes on her wine, knowing her answer sounded lame even to her own ears.

Gyda patted her leg. "You keep telling yourself that."

"We're just friends."

"No, you aren't."

"Kari, it's fine." Torvi shot Gyda a look. "It's between you two, it's not really our business."

"She's our friend!" Gyda whined, throwing herself back in her seat dramatically.

"And she will let us know if something changes. Including telling us if Ivar does something stupid and we need to kick his ass."

Kari giggled as Torvi tapped her beer bottle against her wine glass. "I promise. Hvitserk already made me swear too."

"Good. So is Ivar really that good in bed?"

"Gyda!" Kari exclaimed but laughed at how shameless her friend was.

Torvi thankfully changed the topic of conversation to Ubbe's birthday coming up next month. Asa wandered over, wrapped in a green and brown towel with long ears sticking out that made her look like baby Yoda. When Sigurd eventually appeared, Hali dragged him to the pool where they jumped in together. Not long after, Hvitserk joined them, doing a cannon-ball with the splash almost hitting the ladies.

Kari chatted with Torvi and Gyda for some time, enjoying herself immensely. The topics varied, but she never felt unincluded. More than once, she glanced over, only to find Ivar's gaze already on her. After the third time, he tipped his head to the side and patted the spot next to him. A not-so subtle invitation or demand, depending on how you looked at it.

A smile teased her lips and she nodded. She started to rise, with her second glass of wine in hand, when the sound of a loud "shit" from Gyda distracted her.

"What is she doing here?" Torvi quietly asked with an undertone of frustration.

Curious, Kari followed their gazes towards the door leading into the glassed-in porch. She was met with the sight of two blondes emerging in matching, white swimsuits that barely seemed to cover anything. Both strutted as if they were on a runway, while chatting with one another.

"Kari, go sit with Ivar." Gyda encouraged, snatching her hand and leading her back without a moment's hesitation towards where Ivar and Ubbe were still sitting. The wine was left forgotten on the side table.

"What's going on?" Kari asked in a hushed tone.

"Drama. I can't believe that bitch brought her. What was she thinking?"

"Gyda?"

She clicked her tongue but hurriedly whispered back. "That's Ivar's ex."

Surprise made Kari almost stumble but she managed to catch herself at the last second. Further explanations had to wait because they came upon the brothers at the same time the two blondes did. Soon as Kari was close enough, Ivar held out his hand, a sweet gesture, but she could see the tension and anger in the set of his shoulders and the thin line of his lips. Silently, he guided her to sit between his spread legs, arms banding around her waist and pulling her indecently close. For once though, she did not complain.

"Hey, baby." One of the blondes said in a sickly-sweet voice as she pressed a kiss to Ubbe's cheek. "Sorry we're late."

"It's fine." Ubbe slowly answered as he shifted his gaze to the other blonde. "I didn't know you were bringing someone."

"This is supposed to be family only." Gyda snapped, having dropped into her seat next to Ivar and Kari.

The blonde, who stood next to Ubbe still, narrowed her eyes at Kari. "Then why is she here?"

"That's Ivar's girlfriend." Ubbe answered.

"Uh, hi, I'm Kari." She decided to speak up, hoping introductions would somehow break the rising tension. At her words, Ivar momentarily dropped his head to kiss her shoulder. Unsure if his actions were encouraging or reprimanding, she laid her hands over his, which were still wrapped around her.

"Hmmm…. Margrethe." She replied flatly, with a pinched look, as if talking to Kari was beneath her. "I'm Ubbe's fiancé."

The other blonde smiled pleasantly as she looked Kari in the eye. "I'm Freydis. It's lovely to meet you."

"Yeah, nice to meet you too." Kari managed to say around the suddenly tightened grip around her waist. She would be a liar if she said she was not intimidated by Freydis. While both women were beautiful, something that seemed required to be in the presence of the Lothbrok family, Freydis was a step beyond that. With her doll-like features, lovely blue eyes and flawless skin, she was gorgeous. Kari could feel all her own insecurities screaming at her in the presence of Ivar's ex. How the youngest Lothbrok went from someone as stunning as Freydis to as girl-next-door as Kari, she had no idea….and it made her uncomfortable.

"What the fuck is she doing here?" Ivar demanded, ignoring Freydis' presence completely.

Margrethe rolled her eyes as her hand slowly stroked across Ubbe's shoulders. "I get bored and wanted to spend time with my best friend, so fuck off." She turned her head to look at Freydis beside her. "Come on, let's get something to drink."

After a quick kiss to Ubbe, the two headed back towards the house but not before Freydis glanced back at Ivar and Kari one last time.

Once they were far enough away, Gyda rounded on Ubbe, not even bothering to contain her ire. "Fiancé? Really, Ubbe?" She sneered.

"Hell no. I haven't proposed. I damn well don't plan to and she knows it."

"Why are you still with her? She's a greedy bitch."

"Gyda, I know you don't like her but she's still my girlfriend."

"Who the fuck knows why."

Ubbe turned his attention to Ivar. "I swear I didn't know she was bringing Freydis. I'd have told her not to come then."

"As long as she stays the fuck away from me, I don't give a shit." The dark-haired Lothbrok growled at his older brother.

The residual tension in the air was painful to abide in. It felt like a caged animal, pacing, waiting, ready for the moment to unleash a terrorizing attack.

"Hey, I have a question." Kari blurted out, unable to take the way the tension made her skin feel like it was being sunburned. Once Gyda and Ubbe shifted to watch her, she posed her question. "Ah, well, I've been wondering for a while but why don't you guys have bodyguards or something?"

Ivar snorted, brushing her hair over her shoulder to press his face into the crook of her neck, making her squirm although he did not relent his position.

It was Ubbe that answered with a wide grin. "Eh, we don't need them. We can handle ourselves."

"But you guys have drivers, isn't the next step to have bodyguards?"

"You worried for us?" Ivar whispered, nipping at her skin, only to soothe the spot with his tongue.

"I'm serious."

"Let's just say we know how to protect ourselves. Besides, no one is stupid enough to come after us." Ubbe concluded, raising his beer in a mock salute.

Gyda snickered. "This is why I stay out of the family business."

"You've no issue spending Father's money though." Ubbe retorted in a jovial way.

She shrugged and sent Kari a playful wink.

A minute later, Bjorn, Torvi and Asa came over, taking open seats with Asa sitting in Torvi's lap. Even though Kari had met Bjorn before, it still shocked her to see how much larger he was compared to the other brothers, both in size and physique. Now sitting next to Torvi, he appeared larger. With his long, braided ponytail and shaved sides, a short beard and sharp, blue eyes, he seemed quite formidable. Kari wondered briefly if that helped with the family business.

"See Kari there, she is the one who teaches yoga." Torvi softly said to Asa.

Asa peeked over at Kari, shyly smiling, still wrapped in her towel but with a juice box in hand.

"I bet if you ask nicely, she might show you something." Torvi said then looked up at Kari. "Lately she loves watching me do yoga at home. It's cute when she tries to do it with me."

Bjorn chuckled, slinging an arm over the back of his wife's chair. "And usually falls down onto her face."

"Hey, she's trying!" Torvi defended, elbowing Bjorn in the side.

Looking at the little girl across the circle of seats, Kari smiled. "Want me to show you something I've been working on? I'm not very good at it though, so if I fall over, you can laugh at me. I'll be laughing at myself too."

Asa nodded fervently, eyes wide in anticipation.

"What do you say?" Torvi tapped her daughter's nose.

Asa looked up at her mom then back to Kari. "Please." Even though it came out sounding more like "peas".

"Sure. I need to stretch some first." Kari stood up and immediately had to slap Ivar's hand away that prowled down the curve of her ass. She tried to glare at him over her shoulder, only to be met with a mock innocence. Overly aware of the eyes on her, she chose a spot nearby in the plush, green grass, trying to keep her nerves to a minimum. Carefully, she warmed up her muscles, doing a few simple stretches so as not to hurt herself. Honestly, she was nervous since she never did advanced poses in front of others. It was not that she was unable to, for she did them frequently at home on her own time. It just felt like she was vying for attention or trying to show off when she did advanced poses in view of others. Conflicting memories of her grandmother's encouraging voice fought with her mother's reprimand in her mind as she stretched.

"What are you going to do?" Gyda called over, returning from retrieving her wine glass and bottle.

The question pulled her from her mind's internal war, bringing her back to the present. "Um, it's called the super soldier."

"Oooo, I like it already."

Once stretched, Kari stood frozen for a moment realizing she was going to need to take her cover off to do the pose.

"Kari, you look sexy as hell, now take the damn cover off." Gyda called out.

Kari hesitated, fears and insecurities rising afresh within her.

"Do it or Ivar will get his ass up and help you. I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

"I hate you." She mumbled but gave in. Slowly, she walked back over to the circle of chairs, pulling the white cover off and dropped it on the lounge chair Ivar still sat on. Her eyes briefly flickered up only to meet Ivar's smoldering gaze. Instantly, she could feel herself flush. Hoping no one noticed, she moved back to her grassy spot. A loud wolf-whistle came from the direction of the pool, most likely from Hvitserk but Kari ignored it, knowing if she thought about it too much, she would make a run for it. Mentally preparing herself, she pulled her hair back into a bun on the nape of her neck, then faced the group but kept her gaze downward, too scared to look at them.

After taking a deep breath, she bent over to lay her hands flat on the grass without bending her knees. Next, she hooked her right shoulder behind her knee and extended her left arm for balance. She took a long, deep breath before continuing onward. Then she lifted her left foot and grabbed it with her right hand, still tucked behind her right leg. After another deep breath, she pulled her left leg up until her knee was pointed towards the sky. She held it there for three breaths before slowly releasing her leg back down and carefully straightening back up.

A small round of applause greeted her when she straightened.

"Another!"

"You go, Kari!"

"Do another one!"

Blushing furiously at the cheers, she leaned forward into downward facing dog. Carefully, she slid her hands forward until her elbows touched the grass with her ass still in the air. Taking a deep breath and hoping she did not make a fool of herself, she engaged her core and kicked her legs up so she was doing a handstand but still on her elbows. Once she felt stable, she pressed her legs together and slowly bent her knees until they were almost parallel with her forearms on the ground. Feeling the burn in her core and arms, she hoped she could finish the pose without falling on her face. Next, she lowered her legs, knees apart now and big toes touching until her feet touched the top of her head. She could not help the smile that stretched across her face as she held the pose for a couple seconds, making sure to breathe slow. Scorpion pose was one she was still trying to master on her own, let alone in front of others. If anything, this felt like a victory for her. Methodically she unfurled, bringing her legs up and then back to the ground.

When she finally stood up, brushing the grass off her forearms, it was to another round of applause.

"That was amazing!" Torvi said.

"I was thinking sexy as fuck!" Hvitserk exclaimed, a smile on his face from where he now stood, leaning against Ubbe's chair.

Self-consciously, Kari tugged on her swimsuit, making sure everything was tucked into place, as much as it could be, before pulling her hair out of the bun. She walked back over to the lounge chair quickly and yanked the cover back over her body.

"I'm going to wash my hands." She said without meeting anyone's eyes, skirting around the group and heading towards the glassed-in porch.

Laughter erupted behind her as she approached the door but she ignored it as she walked inside. She padded through the porch, stomach twisting in knots, and turned into the kitchen. Her feet stuttered to a halt as she noticed Margrethe and Freydis standing there with bottles of something in hand. For a split second she thought about turning and heading to the bathroom but it was too late as the two blondes noticed her intrusion.

"Hi, I just need to wash my hands." Kari explained. After a moment's hesitation, she walked around the opposite side of the massive island from them and towards the kitchen sink.

"So, you're Ivar's girlfriend?" Margrethe stated with a mocking undertone. "I didn't think someone like you was his…. type."

"Margrethe…." Freydis chided.

"What? Look at her. I mean she's got tits and an ass, and I guess she could be pretty but that's it."

"I'm sorry." Freydis apologized kindly. After a long, awkward pause where the kitchen was silent besides Kari washing her hands, she asked, "How long have you and Ivar been together?"

"Um, we aren't…. we’re just friends." Kari found herself admitting, as she finished drying her hands and turned around to see them both staring at her. Though Freydis had a gentle smile on her face, Margrethe looked nothing less than the cat that caught the canary and planned on lording it over everyone.

"Oh?"

"See. Told you, Dis. He is still single." Margrethe smugly said, flicking her hair over her shoulder. "He's just playing the game."

"Game?" Kari muttered aloud.

Freydis set her glass down and came around the island to stand in front of Kari. Her blue eyes were bright as they met Kari's. "You seem like a nice girl and clearly the others like you too. So, I'll be honest because I don't want you to get caught up in the Lothbrok drama and get hurt. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Ivar and I are getting back together. We're just taking a break right now. Truly, I know we are destined for each other and he agrees. We had a bad fight and needed some space but he loves me just as much as I love him. So, I know he will come back to me when he is ready. I'm so sorry to tell you that you're just the rebound girl. I'm sure he likes you but that's as far as it will ever go. Gyda likes to try and mess with the brothers' love lives so I am sorry if she dragged you into this without telling you the whole truth. It's not your fault. I am sure Gyda lied to you and probably Ivar too. But it's good for you to know now. I don't hold it against you if you've have had sex with him but just know your time with him is limited, okay? How long have you two been 'friends'?"

"We met last month." Kari whispered, dread and despair a writhing mess of snakes churning in her stomach. Air refused to fill her lungs, leaving her struggling for breath.

Freydis sighed. "It probably will be soon then. Just take advantage of the things he purchases for you, so when he leaves, you can have something to sell if you're in a pinch. Yeah?"

"Ah…. sure."

"Good. You seem like a nice girl. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this."

"It's…." Kari choked back a sudden sob. "It's alright. Thank you."

"Of course, we girls need to look out for each other. Is there anything I can do for you?" She inquired, sounding so genuine in her desire to help, her gaze imploring and lips in a faint, comforting smile.

"No…. no. I just need to check my phone. Have you seen Gyda's bag?"

"I think she left it on the porch." Margrethe helpfully added, never having lost the smug grin on her face as she watched Kari with a hawk-like intensity.

"Oh, right. Thank you." Kari shifted back and forth on her feet, body primed to run, to flee before anyone could see the tears that welled pathetically in her eyes.

Freydis reached out and squeezed her arm, a brief exchange of understanding, then strutted back around to grab her drink and follow Margrethe to the porch and outside.

Once alone, Kari pressed a hand over her mouth to try and stifle the sob that lodged itself in her throat. She knew it. Everything Freydis said made sense.

Without a second thought, she rushed around the island and onto the porch, quickly locating Gyda's bag. She scooped her purse and clothes out only to hurry back inside. A quick check of the time and she figured she might be able to catch a bus, but in this gated community, there was no way buses came through so she would end up walking somewhere. Feeling the sting of tears in her eyes, she sniffled, trying desperately to hold them back. She looked up the nearest bus stop on her phone, pleased it was only a few blocks away from the gated community.

Once positive she knew where she was going, she stared down at her clothes on the counter, wondering if she should change before leaving. It would certainly look odd for her to be walking down the street in the swimsuit cover and sandals in such an upscale neighborhood. Then she thought about any of the Lothbroks finding her trying to leave and pushed the potential oddity of her attire from her mind. It appeared there was a gas station nearby when she found the bus stop, it would be simple to change there quickly. Somehow she could give the swimsuit and cover back to Torvi…. but not today. Right now, she needed to leave.

She tried to shove her clothes into her purse, only succeeding by making it look like an over-inflated balloon but it worked. Lastly, she reached to grab her phone off the kitchen counter but froze. Ivar bought it for her. Freydis' words came back to her about taking advantage of the things he bought for her. Bile burned the back of her throat at the idea. She promised herself she would not be one of those girls to him. Slowly, she retracted her hand, forming it into a fist by her side. Ivar could give the phone to Freydis or throw it in the trash for all she cared. Even with the feeling of her heart being ripped in two, she refused to take advantage of him or his money. She was a better person than that. Or so she hoped.

Worried someone would come in soon, she tossed her purse over her shoulder and swiftly headed towards the front door. She passed through the hallway she entered in, but the pictures and awards blurred before her eyes as the repressed tears threatened to make an appearance. Hastily, she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand but knew it was ultimately futile.

"Kari?"

Her stride never faltered towards her escape, even after hearing Hvitserk call her name from what sounded like the porch.

"Kari? Where are you going?" His voice came from behind her, probably standing at the entrance of the hallway now.

"I have to go." Kari said, not bothering to turn around, unsure if he could even hear her. She could barely hear footsteps behind her over the sound of her sniffles and ragged breathing. It did not matter since she was close to her escape, just a couple more moments. Her hand touched the handle, just beginning to pull the door open when Hvitserk's hand appeared in her direct line of vision and slammed it closed. Although the sound was muffled, it echoed in her mind like a gunshot.

"What's going on?" Hvitserk stood directly behind her, his hand still firmly planted on the door as if to prevent her from even considering leaving without permission again.

"It's nothing." She murmured, staring down at her feet.

"I seriously doubt that if you are trying to sneak away while crying…. what happened?"

"Nothing. I just…. I just want to go home."

"Okay." He shifted to lean his shoulder against the door, ducking his head to try and catch her eyes. "Does this have to do with the yoga stuff?"

"No. Just…. please, Hvitserk."

"You need to tell me something. Look, I'll give you a ride, we can leave right now but you have to tell me what happened."

She swallowed thickly, still refusing to look at him. It was taking all of her willpower to keep the tears at bay. At any moment she felt the tears would come forth with all the power of a hurricane, reducing her to a sniveling mess on the floor, nursing a broken heart. It was all her fault though. How could she have believed someone like Ivar Lothbrok would actually be interested in her for more than just a one-night stand. She was just a challenge for him, someone to pass the time. Then once she gave in, once they finally had sex, he would walk out of her life and back into Freydis' arms and bed…. where he apparently belonged.

"Kari?" Hvitserk softly prompted.

"It's…. I just have a better understanding now…. of where I stand…. of my purpose here."

"Your purpose?"

She sniffed, wiping her wet eyes once again before the tears fell. "I'm just a rebound girl….and that's alright. I get it. But I just want to go home now."

"Fuck. Freydis said that, didn't she?"

"It doesn't matter. Can you please just take me to the bus stop, I can get home from there." She knew she was begging but she did not care anymore.

"Kari, give me that." He grabbed her purse from her and tossed it onto a wooden side table. His hands held hers in a manner that was comforting verse restraining. His thumbs rubbed along the back of her hands as he softly spoke. "Look at me, you know it's not like that."

"It doesn't matter." She shook her head, even as her hands gripped his tighter, the feeling being the only thing keeping her from falling apart at the front door. "I shouldn't have let Gyda bring me here. I should have made her drop me off."

"Kari…." He began but was interrupted.

"Hvitty?" Ivar's loud voice boomed from the kitchen. "You better not be trying to fuck Kari!"

Kari flinched at the sound. The facade of strength she fought to maintain evaporated like smoke. The tears she had been trying so desperately to withhold slipped free, rolling down her cheeks like a cleansing rain.

"Over here!" Hvitserk called back, releasing her hands but not moving away.

Ivar's measured gait could be heard coming down the hallway like the footsteps of doom.

"What the fuck is going on? You disappear to find Kari and then…." His voice trailed off as he entered the foyer, piercing gaze zeroing in on her tear-stained face. What sense of jovial teasing transformed into enraged fury. When he spoke next, it came out in an animalistic growl that bespoke impending violence. "Who fucking hurt you?"

"I'm fine." She mumbled, wrapping her arms around herself. Her chin rested on her chest, tears still streaming down her cheeks. "I just want to go home."

"Freydis….and I'm betting Margrethe also said something to her." Hvitserk snitched, leaning fully against the door. He watched both Kari and his brother as if ready to intervene at a moment's notice.

Ivar snapped, stepping closer. "What did they say?"

She was unsure who he directed his question to but she still shook her head, refusing to look at either brother. Hearing his wrath, it only made her heart ache more. All of this was a show, it had to be. Why would he truly care? The sound of his heavy gait coming closer brought a fresh wave of silent tears.

Moving to her other side, he cupped her cheek. When she resisted looking at him, he shifted his hand to grab the back of her neck, forcing her gaze to meet his. A tempest swirled in his icy blue eyes. "What. Did. They. Say?"

"Why does it matter?" She questioned, bottom lip trembling as a sob rose from her chest.

"Because they hurt you."

"But I'm no one. I don't matter." She shook her head, pressing a hand over her mouth to contain the cries bound to escape at any moment. "You're just going to get back together with Freydis when you get bored with me."

His eyes widened as if she had sucker-punched him. His mouth dropped open for a moment before he collected himself, the maelstrom rippling under his skin on the verge of breaking free. "Did they say that?"

"Freydis said…. she said you two were just taking a break….and I'm the rebound girl."

"Fuck. Fuck!" Ivar stepped away, running his hands through his loose hair. In an instant, he grabbed the decorative bowl off the entrance table and threw it. The shattering against the wall reverberated in the foyer followed by Ivar's guttural shout. "FUCK!"

"Ivar." Hvitserk softly said, warily watching his younger brother.

"I'm going to kill her. Fuck! I can't believe she would fucking say that!" Ivar ran his hands through his hair again, looking on the verge of ripping the strands out. The ferocity in his eyes was unmatched as he glanced down the hallway, clearly wanting to go after his ex, then shifted back to Kari, who remained silent and unmoving. "What else did she say?" He barked at her.

"You're destined for each other." She confessed after a moment's hesitation.

Ivar stormed over to her, devouring the ground beneath his feet as he invaded her space. Standing before her, he cupped her face, eyes imploring her to believe him. "Freydis is a crazy, jealous bitch. She manipulates to get what she wants. Don't believe a word out of her fucking mouth. Fuck! Please, Kari, don't cry. I'm right here, kitten."

His words seeped into her mind, slipping in through the cracks and delving deep into her soul. His words alone should not have reassured her like they did. Between his pleading eyes and his gentle touch, her few walls surrounding her heart crumbled, unable to fight him. She believed him, even before her mind fully recognized it.

She lightly placed her hands on his bare chest, one directly over his heart, feeling the rapid tempo under her fingers. "Promise?" She whispered wetly. "You're not just…. I’m not just a rebound girl?"

Ivar groaned, pressing his forehead to Kari's. "I swear. I never thought that about you."

And she believed him again. The truth falling from his lips resounded in the very core of her being. It made no sense how she knew, but somehow, she did.

After a long second, Hvitserk pushed off the door from next to them. "I'm going to head back and keep an eye on them. Kari, if you still want a ride just text me, alright?"

"Thank you, Hvitty." She reached out and snagged his hand, giving it a quick squeeze. With a smile, he responded in kind before heading down the hallway towards the backyard.

Soon as Hvitserk started walking away, Ivar grabbed her hand and led her in the opposite direction. They hurried through a short hallway to arrive at a closed door. Impatiently, Ivar thrust the door open and pulled her into a room, slamming the door shut behind them. She had a brief moment to scan the new room and notice the two walls with floor to ceiling bookshelves packed full and the couple couches near a large window.

Before she could do anything, she shrieked as she found herself suddenly yanked back, her body colliding with the closed door. Immediately Ivar's mouth claimed hers in a hungry, feverish kiss. His body pinned her to the door, hands kneading her hips. It was all she could do to just breathe. Her hands clung to his broad shoulders, desperate to stay above the waves of passion-fueled desire that surged unchecked within her.

Ivar withdrew his mouth from hers, but only to place kisses over her cheeks, washing away her tears with his affections. "Don't listen to her. Her and I. We are through. I will never go back to her. She has been sniffing around but that ends tonight. I won't fucking let her talk to you again. I fucking swear it."

"Ivar…." She whined, tilting her head. An open invitation which he took.

He swooped in, continuing to speak between leaving open-mouth kisses on her neck. "It's you. It's you I want. It's you I think about all the time. Fuck, kitten, you have no idea how much I want you. And seeing you do those yoga poses in that swimsuit…. fuck! You looked so goddamn sexy; I got a hard-on just watching." He grabbed her thigh, lifting it up and curling it behind him, pressing himself against her core. At the touch of his hardened length against her, she whimpered. "Do you feel that? That's for you, søte Kari."

She could not help but roll her hips, grinding against his erection, body automatically seeking friction.

"Yes! Fuck." He growled against her neck. "Come here."

She whined when he released her leg, letting it fall down to the floor. Her breathing was unsteady already, heart hammering away in her chest. A part of her knew she should stop this, open the door behind her and walk out to avoid the temptation. Yet when his hand latched onto hers once again, tugging her towards one of the couches, she followed willingly, unable to deny the sweet sin that was Ivar.

He dropped onto the couch and settled her into his lap to straddle him. As she settled, he grabbed a handful of the cover over her and yanked it off, tossing it haphazardly onto the floor. Her first instinct was to cover her chest, but as her arms moved to do that, Ivar guided them behind his head. His gaze drunk in the curves of her body, an unashamed starved look in his eyes that made her shudder as it further ignited the fire in her belly.

"Kattungen min." He whispered reverently. "Fucking hell, so gorgeous. No one else gets to touch you like I do. Got it? You're mine." He started lavishing her chest and neck with his mouth, alternating between his lips and tongue.

She knew she should feel more self-conscious straddling Ivar's lap in only the swimsuit that barely covered all of her assets; but it was as if his touch banished the thoughts away. Instead she felt beautiful and cherished.

He palmed one of her breasts and the moan that escaped her was pure wanton. Hands tangled in his long locks as her hips ground harder against his erection in response. His leg braces were only an afterthought that did not impede her actions.

"Ivar, please."

"That's it. Fuck, you're so beautiful. I can't wait to fuck you senseless."

Suddenly he shifted under her, his hand fumbling between them. Her mind barely took notice as he sucked the skin between her breasts, something that would definitely leave a mark. Next thing she knew, his cock was freed, standing at attention between them.

Before she could protest, he spoke up. "I know you're not ready." He slid it under her, pulling her hips back down. At the sensation of his cock rubbing her slit with only the thin barrier of the bikini bottom between them, she threw her head back with a whine. Desire roared through her like a freight train as his cock rubbed against her soaking core.

"You like that, kitten?"

"Yes." She sighed out, head tilted back as she rolled her hips.

"Good, my turn." He reached behind her and promptly untied the straps of the bikini top behind her back.

"Ivar!" She tried to cover herself but he swatted her hands away.

"Trust me."

Once she relented, he laid a hard kiss to her lips then tugged the top over her head, the band behind her neck without a tie. She desperately wanted to cover herself, now before him feeling on full display. But it was the look on his face that stilled her movements.

"Guder. Du er utsøkt. Faen. Den vakreste kvinnen." He murmured with adoration and awe dripping off each word.

"What did you say?"

Instead of answering her, he lowered his face to her chest and captured one of her perky nipples in his mouth. His other hand moved to grab one of her ass cheeks, encouraging her to keep riding him.

All breath vanished from her lungs. All thoughts and insecurities fled under his touch. Her hands tangled in his hair, keeping his mouth on her. All she could feel was him. All she wanted to feel was him. Gasps and moans slipped from her as she allowed herself to be overtaken and drawn into an ocean of pleasure.

She could feel herself rising higher and higher, riding the wave. Her mind was becoming delirious from fire in her veins and the motion of her hips rocking over his exposed cock.

To her surprise, Ivar grabbed a handful of hair at the back of her neck. "That's it, beautiful. Fuck. Let's see what that bendy spine can do." Carefully, he pulled on her hair, not in a painful way but as if to guide her. Willingly submitting herself, she bent her back, following his lead. When her chest was parallel to the ceiling, he stopped pulling, keeping her suspended with her back arched.

Ivar groaned loudly, thrusting against her. She met his action, too absorbed in the bliss to care about decency.

"All the dirty, fucking things this makes me want to do to you." He licked a scalding line up her sternum, only to swirl his tongue around one of her nipples, making her mewl as she continued to move her hips faster. "Come for me."

"Yes, yes." She chanted. "Ivar, please."

"Keep begging, kitten. Let me know how much you want my cock."

As her climax hit, the tightening coil in her core sprung loose, her mouth dropped open in a silent scream. Wave after wave rolled over her. She could feel Ivar grunt and thrust a few more times beneath her before retracing his cock and spurting onto her exposed stomach. After he released her hair, letting her rise back up to face him. Their eyes fixated on one another, chests heaving as they struggled for breath.

Gently, she reached out and touched his cheek, a shy smile on her face. Then, when he made no move to pull away, she leaned forward, uncaring of his cum slipping down her stomach, and drew him into a lazy, slow kiss. He responded, lips melding to hers in a way that was full of softness and contentment. After a moment, she felt him reach behind him for the blanket laying on the back of the couch and wipe her stomach off, all the while never abandoning their kiss.

Once she was clean, he dropped the blanket to the floor and somehow managed to keep their lips locked as he guided them to lay down on the couch, their bare chests pressed together and his arm under her head, legs tangled.

"Do you believe me now?" He eventually asked, leaning back but only far enough so the tips of their noses almost touched.

"Mmmm?"

"That it's you I want. Freydis and anyone else can go fuck themselves for all I care."

She bit her bottom lip and dropped her gaze. "I don't understand why."

"What are you talking about?"

"I mean…. Margrethe said I'm not your…. type."

He snorted and muttered under his breath, "fucking bitch".

"But she's right." Kari pressed onward, her hand running up and down his side as if to ground herself. "I mean, I could never compare to Freydis…. or Torvi or Gyda or any of them. They are all beautiful and….and in perfect shape. I'm not. My thighs and butt are too big and I'm maybe pretty but that's it."

"You're right. You're not my usual type. But those girls, I'd fuck them and then never look their way again. You though, fuck, I can barely take my eyes off you when you're around. And these," he reached down and grabbed a handful of one of her ass cheeks, making her squeak. "I love them. And these thighs, fucking hell, kitten, I want you to suffocate me with them when I finally eat you out."

She gasped, a bolt of electricity shooting through her at the image.

A devilish grin grew on his face, his hand stroking her ass cheek. "You like that idea? My tongue teasing your folds before slipping inside of you. Your thighs wrapped around my head as I feast on your pussy."

"Ivar." She whined, unable to stop the sudden roll of her hips.

"Soon, sweet Kari." He chuckled darkly, ceasing her movement by melding their hips together. "And your tits, gods, they are perfect. I could stare at them all day."

She giggled even as she flushed under his praise. "I'm sorry for doubting you. I guess, I'm still just surprised you'd…. well, that you want me."

"You are mine. You're my woman." He stated resolutely, gazing directly into her eyes so she could see how serious he was.

"But we aren't dating…."

"Doesn't fucking matter. You're mine. And one of these days you'll change your mind and stop playing this game of trying to keep me away."

She sighed, wishing it would be that easy. Before he could continue with that argument, she changed the subject. "You know, I think we exceeded our kiss quota for the day."

He snorted. "I didn't see you complaining earlier."

"That's true. Do you think we should head back out?"

"If I see Freydis or Margrethe right now…." His voice trailed off, but the fury from earlier lingered in the unspoken threat.

"I know. We don't have too. I'm okay right here."

A grateful smile on his lips, he kissed her quickly then rolled her onto her back and laid his head on her chest. They relaxed like that for several minutes in silence, her hand running through his hair, just enjoying the feeling of complacency and peace between them now after their fight. If you could even call it that.

Finally, she spoke up in a hushed tone, a random question coming to mind. "Do you ever get in the pool?"

"No."

"Oh." Was all she could say after his sharp, barbed answer. Clearly it was a subject that was not open for discussion. Her mind wandered, wondering what happened to cause such a response from him. An uncomfortable tension hung over them after his response. Something she was not sure if she should try and dissipate or ignore for now.

After a minute of continued silence, he kissed her chest, letting his lips linger there as if using the extra time to mentally prepare himself. Before she could tell him it was none of her business, he spoke. His tone was quiet and, in anyone else, almost shaky.

"I…. I used to try when I was younger. They'd put me on one of those stupid floating things and pull me around or someone would hold me. Then, when I was about seven…. Sigurd and I got in a big fight earlier that day. He claimed I broke one of his toys. Fucking asshole. I was sitting by the pool, this in our childhood home in Kattegat, I liked to watch things float on the water. Sigurd walked by me and….and pushed me over the edge."

She gasped. "Oh Ivar…."

"Ubbe jumped in and pulled my half-drown ass out." He nuzzled against her skin; his tone having lost the insecurity as he reassured her. "I'm alright, Kari."

She drew his face up and gave him a long kiss, their mouth connecting with a deeper need and alleviation. "Remind me to thank Ubbe when I see him next."

He rolled his eyes. "Don't. He's never let me forget the fact."

"Still."

They laid there for some more time, wrapped up in one another and content in the peaceful stillness. She could not help but think about the memory Ivar shared with her. How far back did that resentment go between the brothers? Had there ever been a time where they cared for one another? And how bad was the animosity between them if one was willing to kill the other, even as children? If her arms tightened around him, neither one mentioned it as they continued to lay there.

A loud knock on the door followed by a yell through the door of "are you two done yet?" disturbed their peace.

"Hvits, fuck off!" Ivar called back, burrowing his face between her breasts.

"Do you have clothes on at least?!"

"I do!"

Kari swatted the back of Ivar's head at his admission. Leaning up slightly, he gave her a cheeky wink before laying his head back down.

"Well cover up, I'm coming in!" Hvitserk yelled through the door.

"Ivar, get up." Kari softly said, a panic setting in at the brother coming in and seeing them in this suggestive position and her topless.

"No." He mumbled.

Before she could shove him off, he snatched the throw blanket off the floor and threw it over his head to cover her chest. As she began to protest, the door cautiously opened. In an instant, she tried to spread out the blanket over them as best as she could, keeping the blanket over her chest and spread it somewhat over their torsos. Although how much good it did was questionable. She peered over to see Hvitserk standing in the doorway with an amused look before shaking his head and stepping in, closing the door behind him.

"What the fuck do you want?" Ivar asked, muffled by the blanket and his face still pressed against her skin.

Kari raised her gaze to the ceiling for a moment then mouthed to Hvitserk, "I'm sorry."

Hvitserk winked at her before answering. "Bjorn and Torvi want everyone together before they leave. Sounds like they have an announcement or something."

"Are the bitches still here?"

"Yeah." Hvitserk sighed.

"Then no."

"I'll go." Kari softly said. "It must be important."

"No, you aren't." Ivar nipped at the side of her breast, making her squirm.

"Well everyone is waiting on you two." Hvitserk pointed out as he watched, clearly entertained if his broad grin said anything.

"I'm coming."

Ivar pulled the blanket back slightly to stare up at her. "Why the fuck do you want to see them?"

"Is it….is it terrible I want to show Frey…. her that I'm still here. That no matter what they said, that I'm not going anywhere."

A positively, feral grin spread over his face. He swooped in and pressed a devastating kiss to her mouth, not letting up until she thought she would suffocate from the intensity of it. "Let's go."

He started to rise up but when she squeaked and tried to clutch the blanket to her, he froze.

"Hvits, leave."

"You sure I can't stay?" His smirk grew as he caught Kari's eye and watched her flush deepen.

"GO!" Ivar bellowed, glaring at his older brother.

"Fine. I'll wait out here for you. If you're not out in three minutes, I'm coming back in." Hvitserk stepped outside and closed the door behind him.

Ivar carefully slid off of her, standing up beside the couch, the blanket in hand. His predatory, blue eyes remained trained on her form, raking over her body like a sweet he wanted to devour completely. A familiar warmth awakened in her core, even as she shyly glanced away, covering her naked breasts with her hands.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous. On second thought, I think we should stay. I need another taste of you and to hear you moaning my name for everyone to fucking hear."

She squealed, quickly skirting away from him before he could pounce on her. "Ivar, no!" Yet, miraculously, he managed to snag an arm around her waist and drag her back against his chest.

"Should we make an announcement of our own?" He asked, running his nose along the shell of her ear, chuckling under his breath when she shivered against him.

"What do you mean?"

"That you're my girlfriend. That this just-friends is shit."

"I…." She balked, eyes wide and heart beating a painful staccato in her chest. “We…. we can't."

"Why the fuck not?" He grasped her breasts, rolling her peaked nipples between his fingers.

She practically swallowed her tongue, biting back the moan lodged in her throat. When she was positive she could control her voice, she replied. "We've talked about this. I'm just…. I’m not ready."

"But you'll practically let me fuck you?"

At his harsh snap, she tried to push out of his embrace, unwilling to have this conversation in their current predicament or maybe have the conversation at all. The innate desire to flee rose up in her but she tried to force it down as she squirmed in his arms. He held her firm, not giving up an inch, her body flush against his own.

"Ivar!"

"What aren't you telling me?"

She hated both herself and him in the moment as she ceased her escape attempts. She hated him for continuously pushing her, for ignoring her words and trying to force her where he wanted her to be. Even more though, she hated herself. If she had kept away from him, however unlikely that was, if she did not have to hide, then none of this would matter. If she could be honest, truly honest, he would most likely reject her. And that was why she hated herself most. Because she was selfish and wanted his attention and affection, even knowing if he knew who she truly was, he would walk away.

Carefully, she turned her head to meet his stormy eyes. "I promise one day I will. I just…. can we please just enjoy this? What we have? I just need…. time."

He stared down at her for a long time. She wondered what he read in her face when he finally gave a resigned sigh. "Fine. I'm telling people you are my girlfriend though."

"You're unbelievable."

"I think you like that about me." He matched her smile with his own before letting her go.

She quickly found her bikini top, noticing Ivar not-so-subtly adjusting his sweatpants. She slipped it over her head but when she went to tie the straps, a pair of calloused hands covered hers. Without a word, he tied it behind her back. Once done, his hand slowly prowled down her back to lightly smack her ass.

"Hey!" She whipped around, only to see a Cheshire grin on his face.

"That's my sexy ass."

"Oh my god. Unbelievable." She muttered to herself as she snatched up the cover and pulled it over. She looked down at the blanket piled on the floor.

"Leave it. I'll deal with it later." He took her hand and walked with her towards the door. When they opened it, a still-shirtless Hvitserk stood leaning against the wall across from them.

"Took you two long enough. Damn. Almost came in and threw Kari over my shoulder to get you out."

Ivar spat something out in their language that made Hvitserk roll his eyes. Before they could move further down the hallway, Hvitserk reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder, freezing her in place.

"Hey, whatever they said. Just try to ignore it. We all want you here. Hell, all of us would kick them to the damn curb if Ubbe would let us. But Ubbe and Bjorn have already approved of you."

Ivar scoffed but Hvitserk kept his gaze on hers, letting her know he was serious.

"Just know, we're on your side."

"Thank you, Hvitty." She squeezed his hand, warmth blooming in her chest at his words.

"Either one of them tries to talk to her, I'll strangle them." Ivar growled, starting down the hallway, towing Kari behind him.

"You can't kill them, Ivar. Mother said murder is wrong."

Ivar laughed, looking over his shoulder at his brother. "Mother still loves me."

"Yeah, yeah, we all know you're her favorite."

"Can you blame her? Look at me. I'm far superior and more interesting than the rest of you."

"Keep telling yourself that."

Kari could not help but smile at their teasing, a mock argument that sounded like it had been executed many times before until now it was said out of fondness and mock sibling rivalry.

The three walked back outside through the glassed-in porch. On the way, she noticed her purse back next to Gyda's bag and wondered if Hvitserk moved it there for her. Outside, everyone else sat on chairs or lounge chairs that were grouped in a haphazard circle, obviously waiting for the remainder of the group to join.

"What took you so long? Thought we'd have to send a search party to find you." Bjorn called out as the three approached.

"I got 'em. The library reeks of sex though." Hvitserk said, dodging Kari's swing.

Ivar guided her back to the lounge chair they had been sitting in earlier, tucking her into his side with a hand laying possessively on her hip. Hvitserk sat on her other side instead of pulling a new chair over. She tried to ignore Margrethe and Freydis who sat across from them, keeping her eyes trained on her lap, fiddling with the hem of her cover.

"Ok, now that we're finally all here." Bjorn said, standing up with Asa in his arms. "We just wanted to tell our family the good news in person."

"Torvi is pregnant!" Gyda blurted, staring at her sister-in-law in shock.

"Fuck! Gyda!" Bjorn groaned.

"Daddy said a bad word." Hali looked over at his mother from his spot next to Sigurd.

"Yes, he did, thank you, Hali." Torvi replied smiling then addressed the group. "I'm about two months along. So right now, we are only telling family, so please don't share this with anyone else yet."

"Wow! A third! Congrats!" Ubbe started, others immediately echoing their own congratulations and well-wishes.

Kari jumped up and moved to give Torvi a hug after Gyda. "I know we haven't known each other long but I'm so excited for you. You're an amazing mother."

"Thank you, Kari. Maybe your own time will come soon." She shooting her eyes over to Ivar for a second then meeting Kari's again.

"Oh, I don't know." She blushed at the thought. After another brief hug, Kari returned to her seat.

"How old are you?" Hvitserk asked suddenly.

"Um, I turned twenty-five this summer."

"Ha! Still the baby of the group." Sigurd laughed, pointing his beer bottle at Ivar.

"Hey, nothing is wrong with an older woman. We're in our sexual prime." Gyda defended.

"She's not that much older." Ivar retorted, his hand skimming up and down Kari's thigh. "Just a year."

"And a few months. You're turning twenty-four after the new year." Ubbe helpfully added with a grin.

"Fuck off."

"Mommy, Uncle Ivar said a bad word now."

"Yes, he did, Hali. I think it's time for us to go. Say goodbye to everyone." Torvi said. After a round of goodbyes and hugs to all the uncles and aunt, the small family headed back through the house to head to their own home.

"Did you know Ivar is younger than you?" Hvitserk asked conspiringly, once conversation started around them again.

She tilted her head as she looked at him, slowly answering his question. “Yeah…. we talked about this a while ago."

"Good. Do you want kids?"

"Hvits, what is this?" Ivar butted in.

"Just testing the waters to see how she feels about having my babies. You know they'd be beautiful." Hvitserk chuckled when Ivar glared at him.

"Be nice you two or I'm moving." Kari chided.

"Yes, mom." Hvitserk said, sneaking a kiss to her cheek before jumping away. He turned around and pointed at her as he walked backwards. "One day you'll have my babies!"

She laughed, shaking her head. She could practically feel the smoke coming from Ivar's ears. Before he could burst a vein, she leaned closer to him and laid her head against his shoulder. "He knows I'm yours."

"He fucking better or I'll beat his ass to remind him." Ivar murmured, nuzzling her temple.

She relaxed against him, looking around the backyard. Hvitserk and Ubbe had started some kind of wrestling competition in the pool, both looking like they were trying to drown each other. Gyda and Ivar called insults from their seats. Sigurd was texting on his phone but occasionally looking up and making a comment. At one point he caught her eye and gave her a brief nod, which she smiled back, hoping any animosity between the two of them from her earlier comment was gone. She purposefully ignored the whispering between Margrethe and Freydis, taking a note from Ivar's book and acting as if they did not exist.

Looking at the Lothbrok family around her, she smiled at the group, still amazed she found herself in their midst and how welcoming most of them were. For almost two years she had been alone in a new country, thinking that was what she wanted. Now though, she wondered if she had just been missing a group that accepted her without question.

She peered up at Ivar, heart swelling with gratitude and affection. Without second guessing herself, she kissed his cheek and leaned back against his shoulder. He hummed, placing his own kiss to the top of her head.

She wondered if she should just give up fighting this, whatever this was between them. Maybe it would work out. Maybe everything would not fall apart as soon as the truth fell from her lips. Maybe he could accept her past and who she was.

Silently, she shook the thoughts away. It was still too soon to tell and if she was honest, she did not want to lose this.

Or lose him.

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natromanxoff · 3 years

Text

11 - Van Halen...

Hi there one and all.

Can I first start by saying farewell to Cozy. I've known him for about fifteen years and would not say he was a close friend or anything, but whenever we caught up with each other there was always time for a beer and chat. He was an A1 guy and will be greatly missed as a person and as a brilliant drummer. When John Bonham died he left the crown for the best rock drummer to Cozy, and I can't think of anyone worthy enough to take over. When Bonzo died we were doing a show at Madison Square Gardens, and as they were going into Champions Fred said, "This one's for John Bonham." The place erupted. If that's Bonzo's song, then I think Cozy should inherit We Will Rock You, because he was THE best rock drummer.

My social life has been quite hectic again. Caught up with Status Quo when they played here recently, they're always good fun to chat with, and they still put on a decent show. Next Sunday I'm gonna see Matchbox 20. Have a listen to their album, it's really good. Last night was the all new Van Halen, and thanks to my mate Nick I had one of those wonderful VIP passes hanging round my neck. I, along with the rest of the world was curious to know what Gary Cherone was going to be like. Brilliant. This has to be the best VH line up yet. The show was being filmed by MTV, so if you see it and the camera pans around to the sound desk, just look for the best looking guy in the building and that'll be me, standing next to him.

Anyway, back to VH. They are still a great rock band, a great live act and great musicians, and I still hate drum solo's. But back to Mr Cherone. We all know what he did at the Tribute, and we all know he's a huge Queen fan, and he's the closest singer to Freddie I've ever seen. His outfit, black satin shirt and flared black satin pants. I seem to remember FM wearing that around 75/76. His mic stand is the FM 'wand', except it's a lot longer. His movements are very theatrical, and dare I say camp at times, with lots of twists and turns, very Freddie. Don't get me wrong here, I'm not knocking him at all, he is an amazing showman and doesn't stop all night, even jumping into the crowd and running up the steps to the top of the arena, and then tumbling down like a stuntman. It's good rock 'n roll, so try and check them out, I don't think you'll regret it. (I've become concert reviewer all of a sudden) At times he even sounds like another singer, but I won't keep on, I'll leave it to somebody else. On the rock station, Triple M, one of the jocks this afternoon said, "He's been watching to many videos of our dear departed friend Freddie Mercury. His movements were exactly like his."

The first time I ever saw Van Halen was at a place called the Circus Krona(!) in good old Munich. I went along to see them with the curly one, and when we got there I had to instantly phone the studio and try and get Rog to come along because it was the biggest PA system I had ever seen in a place that size. When they started the intro tape it was so loud I thought my chest was gonna cave in, the bass just pinned you to your seat. Needless to say Brian was like a pig in shit. Before I tell you my little Queen story, I have to tell you about what I consider to be the best onstage patter I think I've ever heard. David Lee Roth was talking to the crowd between numbers and somebody in the crowd chucked a paper cup or something at him, he stopped talking, looked round in the general direction and said, "Hey man, you can throw what you like at me. Because tonight I'm going to f**k your chick." 20,000 people loved it, and so did I cause I still remember him saying it.

OK. We were touring the States, probably around 81/82, and we were flying to Portland. The band entourage were traveling on a wonderful private plane, and as the crew would have been in the bus for about 24 hrs we took as many as we could with us. The date was Sept.1, I remember because thats my birthday, and when we boarded the plane there was a huge cake with 'Happy Birthday Crystal' on it, and even more booze than we normally had. (Somebody must have expected something) One of the nice things about private planes is that you can make detours and the pilot flew around Mt St Helens a few times so we could see right into the crater, and it was still steaming, an amazing sight. Back to my birthday and a few of us needed some privacy, so Jim 'Mary' Devenney, Jimmy ' Idiot Boy' Barnett, Peter 'Feebie' Freestone, Roger '*******' Taylor and myself stocked up with a couple of drinks and retired to the Master Bedroom for a discussion on world politics. When the plane landed we were still a few thousand feet up in the air, legless is the best way to describe us. Hey, it was my birthday after all. We fell into the limo's and headed to the hotel, and the crew went on to theirs.

On arrival I found out that Van Halen were staying there, and they were playing that night, so I secured a few million passes and went looking for somebody to go partying with. After all it was 4pm and if I went to sleep I'd wake up feeling awful so I had to continue. RT said he was gonna crash, but Feebie and Terry were ready to go, so we said we would go to the first bar we came to. As it turned out it was a topless joint, and needless to say I was shocked and stunned, but a deals a deal. We were drinking shots of peppermint schnapps with vodka and orange chasers, very intelligent. At about 8pm we all shot off to watch VH, and they were great. After the show both bands arrange to meet in the bar at the hotel, but the bar is one of those stupid ones in the middle of the lobby. So there we are, the four Queenies, Feebie, Wally, Tunbrige, Terry and me, and the four Van Halens, all sitting around having a slurp, and VH's minders running around like headless chickens in the CIA. Outside the main doors were hundreds of fans, with a VH gorilla keeping them out, even to the point of stopping Ratty coming in. I had to argue with this moron to let one of our crew in, and he said, "If he goes anywhere near David or Eddie I'll throw him out." I could only answer with that wonderful two worded phrase starting and ending in F. Because it was like being in a fish bowl we decided to leave the bar, and everyone wandered off to various rooms to continue, the biggest bash being in Rogers suite.

At some unknown hour whilst I'm having a very pleasant conversation with a charming lady who called herself 'Naughty Nancy,' Jobby says to me, "I've been looking for you, Tunbridge wants you to call him now, it's urgent, Brians had an accident." Jobby was very drunk and I didn't know if he was serious or joking, so I phoned Tunbridges room and there was no reply. What do I do now? If Brians asleep and I wake him I'm in trouble, and if he has hurt himself and I don't call I'm still in trouble. What do I care? I'm drunk and fearless, so I phone and Tunbridge asks me to get there asap.

When I go in, Brians lying on the bed on his side, with the waste paper bin close at hand, and Tunbrige is grinning and mopping his brow with a damp cloth. Brian was mumbling stuff like "Don't let me die." (I'm sure most of us have been there at sometime or another) I probably shouldn't say this, but I had to grin, I thought it highly amusing. I got an explanation and told Tunbridge not to let him sleep on his back, and call me if there were anymore problems. I then returned to NN.

It turned out that when we all left the bar, Brian had gone to Eddie's room where they consumed huge quantities of Jack Daniels, and Brian not being a bourbon drinker, went to the toilet to worship the porcelain god, and threw up with such gusto he hit his head on the cistern, split his head open and nearly knocked himself out. The following night we played the same place VH did, and Mr May with band aid on head, played a blinder. A couple of years later, in the Rainbow in LA, I met Alex Van Halens estranged wife, and that, as they say, is another story all together.

Crystal

#queen #queen band #roger taylor #brian may #crystal taylor #crystal's tales

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just-here-for-the-moment · 3 years

Text

Paloma, Part I

Series Masterlist - Part I - Part II

Word count: 4100+

Rating: mature, 18+ only

Outline: Statesman!Frankie "Catfish" Morales, Agent Jack “Whiskey” Daniels, and "You" (OC cis/het female reader, Statesman research analyst, code name “Paloma”; age 26; reader is “blank canvas”/no physical description/no use of “Y/N”)

Warnings: fully legal age gap; curse words; references to M/F sex; lots of yearning; a little sprinkling of angst; American readers, please be warned that this piece features the absolutely filthy fantasy of Statesman paying off your student loans in full

You left Kentucky on a sunny June morning with a rolling suitcase, six cardboard boxes, and a heart full of golden light. You were ready for the new challenges of your promotion and the move to New York, but it was still hard to quell the little butterflies that insisted on dancing and twirling in your gut. Statesman HQ was like a beacon that had been calling to you for the last three years, and you were half-convinced that the promotion and the move were a daydream; something that would be snatched out of your hands if you thought about it too much.

It was strange to leave Kentucky, your home since you were four years old. You had been raised in a small town about an hour south of Louisville, and you hadn't had the opportunity to leave until college. Even then you didn't travel very far, just to a dorm room at the University of Louisville, going back to your hometown for every vacation instead of flying off to California or Europe like some of your more glamorous friends.

You had put your time to good use, though. You busted your ass and completed an accelerated program in Criminal Justice that earned you both a Bachelor's and a Master's in one go, with a minor in statistics and data science. The result was a deep and abiding love of research and analysis, with the burning desire to do good in the world.

---

The Friday morning of your graduation ceremony, you emerged from your apartment fresh-faced and giddy, ready to walk the stage and start the next phase: adult life in the "real world." You knew that your life was about to change, but as you juggled the garment bag with your cap and gown and tried to lock your door, you had no idea just how much. You heard a soft voice say your name behind you, and it made you jump and drop your purse, spilling the contents across your doorstep. You turned to see a woman of about 40, with flawless terra-cotta skin and an adorable mop of chestnut hair. Black horn-rimmed glasses framed bright, inquisitive eyes. She immediately bent to help you retrieve your belongings, stammering gentle apologies.

"I'm so sorry! Let me help you get your things. I didn't mean to scare you." She smiled sweetly at you and handed you back your sunglasses and lip gloss.

"No! It's fine, I'm sorry I'm so preoccupied." You lifted the garment bag by way of explanation. "Graduation day! Um, how can I help you?"

"You don't know me, but my name is Ginger. I work for an organization that recruits bright young minds like yours. It's a lot to explain, but if you're interested in a job interview next week, we'd love to talk with you." She handed you a creamy white business card with a Louisville address.

You frowned. "Statesman Distillery? I don't have any experience with alcohol production or marketing. I do data analysis and my degrees are in criminal justice."

"We know. We've been following your research and your schooling for a while." She gave you a mischievous smile, and it looked for all the world like she was hiding something fun behind it, something secretive and intriguing that made you want to know more.

"Please, just give me an hour of your time next week? When you have some time to pay us a visit, just call that number and ask for me. I'm really looking forward to chatting with you."

You thanked her and promised you would call, and then you tucked the card into your bag and forgot all about it for nearly a week. Graduation day was hectic, with lots of relatives visiting and interrogating you about your career plans, and the days afterward were spent attending parties and saying goodbye to friends who were scattering to far-flung places. After you had finished the last of your university-related errands like returning a few library books and picking up your official transcript, there wasn't much left to do except putter around your apartment and take a few days off before beginning a job search. Those student loans weren't going to pay themselves off.

You found Ginger's card in your purse on Wednesday morning and put it on the fridge with a magnet. On Thursday you were so hungover you didn't want to make any calls. On Friday you found yourself at loose ends with nothing planned, so you picked up the phone and dialed. When you reached the switchboard you gave your name and asked for Ginger, and they put you right through. She picked up after one ring, as if she had been waiting for your call.

"Hi! I'm so glad you called me! Can you come by today?" Ginger sounded genuinely excited to talk to you, not smarmy or fake like other corporate recruiters you had spoken with.

"Oh, uh, yeah. I mean, yes, thank you. Are you sure today's okay? I can come next week if that's better."

"No! Please come whenever you're ready. I'm really hoping you'll like what you see."

"Okay, will I need to dress up? Will I be meeting with anyone for an interview? Should I bring copies of my resume?" You wanted to make a good impression, but you weren't sure if this was just something the distillery did casually, like a winery tour, or if you would need to be ready for a formal interview.

"Nope! Just bring yourself! We already know everything we need to know about your qualifications."

"Ah... okay. I'm all yours. I'll see you in about an hour?"

"Perfect! I'll leave your name at the front gate with the guard. Just show them your ID and they'll wave you through."

You said your goodbyes and put the phone down. What kind of data analysis job was even available at a distillery? Market trends? Did they need a criminal justice major for tracking down rip-offs, like people counterfeiting their product? But wait, didn't the government do that kind of thing? The ATF? You shook your head clear of questions and hopped in the shower. You could ask Ginger all of your questions, since she seemed to be so happy to talk with you.

When you arrived at the Statesman Distillery an hour later, you were impressed at the size of the facility. Distilleries were pretty common in the state of Kentucky, with lots of little family companies sprinkled around. But Statesman rivaled the big names for sheer square footage.

Ginger met you in a conference room and offered you coffee, and then asked you to sign a non-disclosure agreement. You didn't think twice about it. NDAs were common in lots of industries, and you guessed that it had something to do with trade secrets, Statesman not wanting to leak information about their whiskey production details. When Ginger began the tour and you walked down a long hallway with multiple sparkling white laboratories behind thick glass, you found it unusual, but not alarming. Cleanrooms, maybe? Something to do with alcohol distillation formulas, probably.

When she ushered you into a large wood-paneled office and introduced you to Champ, the head of Statesman, you thought it was odd. Companies didn't normally introduce new college graduates to executives during tours. Based on the size of the organization, you thought you might meet the CEO or President once or twice a year, maybe at a holiday party or a company retreat. But he was friendly, and he seemed to have already heard of you; his eyebrows raised an inch at Ginger when she gave him your name. He also seemed far more interested in criminal justice and data analysis than you expected for a distillery executive, but you shook hands and answered all of his questions politely.

When Ginger asked you to step into an elevator and it dropped 10 floors, you started to wonder a little. When the doors opened and she walked you to a room with a huge bank of monitors, with screens showing all kinds of maps and security video feeds, you were downright confused. But when she revealed the cherry on top, the fact that Statesman was not in the business you thought they were? That was too shocking. You were sure she was joking. You turned behind you to look for hidden cameras, expecting a prank show host to come jumping out at you.

"This is a joke, right?"

Ginger smiled that sweet, warm smile at you. "No joke. We want you to join the Research Unit, working in the Data Analysis section. You would be keeping our agents safe, helping them make the best decisions possible. And in turn your work could save lives, hundreds of them. Maybe even thousands. What do you say?"

"I... uh... I still think you’re joking. I’ve never heard of anything like this. I… are you sure you want me?"

"Yes, if you're interested. We could use you on the team." She pushed a little slip of paper into your hand, and when you saw the annual salary that was listed, you almost fainted.

"Ginger, this is way too much. I just graduated and this is, like... this is a senior analyst's salary. I'd be able to pay off my student loans in like three years!"

"Actually, we would be paying your student loans off before you start work. If you have financial burdens hanging over your head you could be vulnerable to bribes or extortion attempts from foreign governments or bad actors. We want you clear before you start with us. Think of it as a signing bonus."

"Holy shit! Sorry, I mean... I... Jesus." You looked at her in confusion. "Y'all really want me?"

She smiled and nodded. "Yes, we really do."

"Okay, when do I start?"

And that had been it, your first "big girl" job out of college. You were welcomed warmly to the Statesman team, and you loved the fact that you did interesting work that had a real impact. The hardest part had been telling your friends and family the required cover story, saying you were doing market analysis until you could find a job in criminal justice somewhere. But since you were happy with your new job and it paid well, none of them pressured you to move on.

During your first two years with Statesman you climbed the ranks, earning promotions and new responsibilities that eventually put you in the seat of Assistant Director of Data Analysis. You had risen high enough in Statesman that your work required a code name, and you chose “Paloma,” a nod to your favorite grapefruit cocktail. You answered directly to the head of the Research Unit, and every report that your team produced was vital. You weren't wasting your talent in some corporate hole, enriching the CEO's salary at the expense of your sanity. You were saving lives, making a difference. Your reports had even been sent to the New York headquarters, where they used them as a model for operations.

And the job had brought you romance, too. One day not long after your promotion to Assistant Director, you were walking out of the conference room, so focused on your phone that you didn't see where you were going. You bumped into something large and solid in a denim shirt, and a pair of warm, calloused hands held your shoulders to steady you. You cursed softly to yourself and then looked up into the most gorgeous pair of brown eyes that you had ever seen. A man with patchy stubble and a well-worn baseball cap smiled at you, eyes crinkling with warmth.

"Whoa! Are you okay?" His eyes looked concerned as they searched your face. You looked at him with wonder. He was so, so beautiful. The smile dropped, and then his brows knitted together into a slight frown. "I said, are you okay?"

You realized you were staring with your mouth half open like some lovestruck teenager, and that an embarrassing amount of time had passed since you first met his eyes.

"Yes!" Your voice was louder than you intended. "Yes, I'm sorry. Sorry I bumped into you. I should have watched where I was going. I'm sorry."

"That's okay. Did I hurt you?"

"Ah, no. No, I'm fine. Sorry. Just distracted today."

"That's okay. Sorry I startled you." He smiled again and squeezed your upper arm.

You could have stayed there forever, leaning into his touch. He let go, much to your chagrin, and then went into the conference room. You made a note to ask someone who he was, to see if you could find out more about him. He wasn't being escorted by a staff member, so he was obviously part of the Statesman organization somehow. Someone would know who he was.

You went into the ladies room, running into Ginger at the sinks. "Oh, Paloma! I'm so glad I saw you. I need to steal your boss for an urgent matter. Can you run his 11:00 meeting in the conference room? I know it's last minute, but I'll buy you lunch later."

Your brain flickered out for a nanosecond. The 11:00 meeting? The conference room? The handsome man? You recovered your composure and smiled at Ginger. "Yeah, no problem at all. Tell him to drop his notes off in the conference room and I'll be there in just a moment."

Ginger smiled and punched your shoulder softly. "Thanks, Pal. I owe you one."

You washed your hands in a trance. Oh lord, this was going to be interesting. You squared your shoulders and met your own eyes in the mirror. You looked exactly like you had this morning, just your normal self. Most of the time that was fine, but right now you wanted to be more glamorous, more devastating. You wanted to absolutely bewitch the handsome mystery man in the meeting. In the absence of some kind of last-minute emergency Hollywood makeup team, you would have to settle for a fresh application of lip balm and a quick scrub of your teeth with a damp paper towel. You flicked a stray eyebrow hair into place, sighed, and headed back to the conference room. Looks weren't important anyway, right? Statesman had hired you for your brain, not your face. And really, you were more interested in showing your boss that you could do well in your new role. So you banished your insecurities from your mind and breezed into the meeting.

"Good morning everyone." You studiously chose not to look at the handsome man you had run into, keeping your eyes on your notes for the time being. You were afraid that if you looked at him you wouldn't be able to tear your gaze away. "The Director has been called away for an urgent matter, so I'll be leading today’s operational planning meeting. For those of you who don't know me, I'm Paloma."

You risked a glance at the handsome stranger, relieved to see that his eyes were on his notepad and not on you. You let out a breath and found your stride, walking the group through the team's findings, the data, the implications, and the desired outcome for the mission. Agent Tequila asked a few cocky, half-assed questions, probing you for weaknesses. Normally that would have irritated you, but today it was a welcome focus that took your mind off the butterflies. You knocked Tequila back in place with a few well-chosen words, and then opened up the floor for questions.

The handsome man raised his hand, and your eyes fixed on how large and thick his fingers were. Oh God, this was torture. "Yes, Mr...?"

"Catfish. Um, can you tell me more about the extraction plan?"

"Yes, absolutely." You went over that phase of the mission, giving all the details your team had gathered about the terrain and the timing. When you were done, Catfish smiled at you, and your knees went weak at the sight of the dimple that appeared. No one else had questions, so you closed the meeting and stood to leave.

Suddenly there was a warm wall of denim at your elbow. "Hey, that was really detailed information. Thank you so much for walking me through everything."

You turned and smiled. "You're welcome. Glad I could help." You fumbled for something to say, trying to extend the conversation and keep him in your orbit for however long you could while everyone else filed out of the room.

"So, um, you go by 'Catfish.' Can I ask why? That's your code name, right? There's not some kind of hidden tragedy where that's the name your parents actually wrote on your birth certificate?"

He chuckled, throwing his head back. The expanse of his thick neck and bobbing Adam's apple did nothing to improve the butterflies. They only fluttered harder, rising higher in your chest.

"It's an old Army nickname, I was Special Forces about a million years ago. Now I'm here on the transport team. I'm a helicopter pilot. When we're not working you can just call me Frankie."

"Ah." You bit your lip and nodded. Why couldn't you think of something else to say? Fortunately, Frankie continued the conversation.

"And you're Paloma around here? I love that drink. Am I allowed to know your real name, or is that classified?"

You grinned and shook his hand, giving him your name. When it rolled off his lips in that deep voice it sounded like heaven to you. You didn't want anyone else to say your name ever again. Just him.

He leaned closer, like he was sharing a secret. “Can I ask you a question? Top secret.” He winked, and you nodded.

“Can I take you to lunch?”

Your heart dropped into your pelvis, and you gulped, hard. “Y-yes. Yes, that would be great. I’d love to.”

---

When Ginger found you in your office at 2:00 p.m. you were staring off into space, smiling blissfully.

“Hey, Paloma. Why did you blow me off for lunch? I came by at 12:30, I was going to take you out.”

“Oh! Oh my god, Ginger, I’m so sorry! I had a date.”

She raised her eyebrows at you, settling down in one of your visitors chairs. “A date?”

“No! Not a date. A, um…” You burst into husky giggles, and then confessed everything to her: the handsome man, the crinkles around his eyes, his dimples and his silly code name, the easy conversation over lunch, and the fact that he had scribbled his phone number down on a sticky note that was now burning a hole in your pocket. You felt like you were 12 again, confiding in your girlfriend about crushes and cute boys.

Ginger laughed and gave your hand a squeeze. “No wonder you forgot about me. I can’t compete with a handsome helicopter pilot!”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Ginger. I really didn’t mean to forget.”

“No, it’s okay. But definitely call him this weekend and make a real date. I’ll want details when you take me out for an apology lunch on Monday.” She winked and left your office.

You sat back in your chair and tilted back to look at the ceiling while you considered it. Was it too soon to call him and make a date? Ugh, this was agony. You decided that going by conventional rules hadn’t really mattered to you at any point in your life until now, so why the hell not?

You took a deep breath, trying to puff up your confidence. When he answered the phone on the second ring, you dove right in. “Hi, Catfish? It’s Paloma. Listen, I had a really good time at lunch, and I’d like to see you this weekend if you’re free.”

---

On Monday, you had a whole lot to report to Ginger.

Frankie took you up for a sightseeing flight on your date, and you loved the way he controlled everything; making sure he warned you before any sudden movements, and checking that you weren’t getting airsick or anxious. When the rotors were stilled and you were back on the ground, Frankie reached over to help you unbuckle your harness. Something got stuck, and the agonizing extra seconds of feeling him jostle the strap near your hip made you bold. When it was finally free and he was about to pull his hand away, you grabbed his wrist. He looked at you, alarmed that something was wrong, and you crashed your lips against his, all teeth and tongue and wanting. Frankie was as good a kisser as he was a pilot, and you spent the rest of the date making out in his truck.

The next weekend, you found out that his warm, work-worn hands were also magic in the bedroom. Frankie was adept at tweaking your sensitive spots as gently as the little buttons and switches of the flight panel, bringing you to thrumming heights the same way he did his helicopter.

The rest of the summer passed in heady, humid days and nights like a dream. You loved Frankie’s easy sense of humor and his confidence in the cockpit. But Frankie was less confident about your relationship, voicing concerns about the decade-plus that separated your ages, and whether he was keeping you from dating men your own age. He made self-deprecating comments about being an “old man,” and you reassured him that there was no one you’d rather be with, no one who could sway your attention. You loved using your hands and arms and lips and tongue to reassure him, finding that he had his own sensitive spots that you could manipulate. You loved sending him to sleep with a smile on his face.

But as much as you and Frankie enjoyed the relationship, the nature of his work with the transportation team meant that he was never in town for very long. At the same time, your job was getting more complex, requiring late nights at the office that interfered with your time together. You refused to dwell too much on the fact that you were torn, that you loved your work as equally as you wanted to spend those nights with Frankie.

By the end of the summer, you both came to the realization that it was nobody’s fault, simply a case of poor circumstances, and you decided to end things and remain friends. In October Frankie left Statesman to take a job that relocated him to Florida. You were wistful, and you missed him, but at least it had been an amicable split. At least friends was something. And as sometimes happens even with the best of intentions, the time in between each phone call grew longer, and you eventually lost touch. Last you heard he was spending weekends with his old Army buddies who all lived nearby, and he had a new girlfriend. By February the ache was starting to subside, and by April you were nearly ready to date again.

In May, almost three years to the day after Ginger’s visit to your apartment had changed your life, you were offered the position to lead the Data Analysis team in New York. You jumped at the chance. Statesman located an apartment for you, and from the pictures you were already in love with it. Huge windows looked out over the city, and it was within walking distance of Statesman HQ. Your farewell party was bittersweet. Ginger offered to come visit you, and promised that New York would be everything you hoped it would be. Your team gave you such high praises that you joked that if that’s what it took to hear accolades, you would have left ages ago.

---

Your first few days in New York were spent acclimating to the Statesman HQ, and getting to know your neighborhood. It was strange to find that you could walk or take the subway for whatever you needed, compared to the Midwest where a car was required for everything. Your new team was welcoming, and you enjoyed your new duties immensely. Your first two weeks on the job passed in no time, and you went home every night feeling like you could fly.

And then you hit a wall, in the form of Jack Daniels, a.k.a. “Senior Agent Whiskey.” You knew him by reputation, of course. Ginger had filled you in on his exploits, his overbearing charm, his smarmy flirtations. You had seen him once or twice in passing when he had visited Champ’s office, but you hadn’t actually met him in person.

When you finally did, you almost asked for an immediate transfer back to Louisville. --- "Paloma" Series Masterlist Just-here-for-the-moment’s masterlist

Tag list: @honeymandos @driedgreentomatoes @silverwolf319 @mourningbirds1 @honestly-shite @anaaaispunk @greeneyedblondie44 @spacedilf @maxwell–lord @nicolethered @dihra-vesa @the-queen-of-fools @juletheghoul @anxiousandboujee

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #Statesman!Frankie Morales #Statesman!Frankie Morales x you #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey #agent whiskey x you #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x you #jack whiskey daniels

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0606-hyuck · 3 years

Text

a letter to my lover | na jaemin

♡ dear y/n, i’m writing you this letter in the hopes that it gets to you well. our relationship has been tumultuous, that’s for sure, and i thought it was high time i wrote you a letter detailing all the times you said "i love you" that are important to me.

genre: jaemin x reader, smut (only at the start), angst, R18 ONLY, supernatural!jaemin, incubus!jaemin

warnings: unprotected sex, toxic relationships, profanity, alcohol consumption, and mentions of drugs. jaemin is not a good person, and this is not a happy story.

disclaimer: this fic is in no way glorifying or romanticizing toxic behaviour/relationships. how jaemin is portrayed is not an accurate reflection of him as a person. readers must strictly be over 18 years old. please make your own judgement over whether or not this fic is right for you.

tagging: the lovely @roses-of-the-moon ♡ @mora134340 @ncteology + @nct-writers

word count: 2.3K

Y/N,

The first time you said “I love you”, you were moaning underneath me.

You were just a Tinder hookup, or so I told myself. If I wasn’t gambling, getting into fights, or partying until the sun rose, I was swiping away on that goddamn app, matching with as many individuals as possible. The night I met you was no different. Your Tinder profile was pretty standard - ‘hi I’m Y/N and I’m not looking for anything serious, apart from a good chat and laughs.’ We matched with each other, I sent off a quick ‘hi beautiful, I’m Jaemin’, and within a few messages you were already putty in my waiting hands.

We met at a bar, and I really wasn’t expecting you to look the way you did. I checked your pictures, of course, but at this point I was basically fucking anything that walked, so I hadn’t paid too much attention to what you looked like. I wonder if you knew the outfit you had so nicely prepared would be off your body and lying on my floor in a mere hour.

I wined and dined you like the fine gentleman I am, and we made the decision to travel to my place for some fun adult time. This routine was so familiar to me - go on a Tinder date, spend a little bit of money on the date, bring my Tinder match back home, have some hot sex, feed of off their energy, and then kick them out.

That night, I had myself positioned in between your legs, my hips rolling like the tides and causing you to let out an attractive whine of ecstasy. You wrapped your arms around the back of my neck and pulled me closer, threading your fingers through my hair, and whispered in my ear, “oh god, I love you.” I smirked and didn’t think much of it - if I wasn’t sleeping with someone and they didn’t confess their love for me then I was clearly doing something wrong.

The words continued to spill from your mouth as we both reached our highs; your fingers dug into my neck and the pain transformed into pleasure as I came inside you. As your own orgasm rushed over you, I leant down to kiss your lips - instead I sucked as much energy from your body as possible without causing you to fall unconscious.

You see, I was an incubus, and in order to live I fed off the sexual energy of my partners. I spent hours each week scrolling through Tinder finding matches so I could continue to exist, but I was also young and keen, and having sex multiple times a week was fun for me. Partying, drinking, and having sex was just part of my lifestyle as an incubus. It was a common rule for incubi to avoid forming attachments to those we slept with, because monogamy doesn’t really fit in well with our lifestyle, and that was a rule I was trying to abide by when I kicked you out of my apartment just minutes after I had fed from you.

If only I realised how hard that rule would be to follow when you were involved.

The second time you said “I love you”, I said it back.

After we slept together, I broke my only rule: don’t get attached. You still had my number, and I had yours, and it became normal for us to meet up at night for a quick hookup. Whenever you had an argument with your partner-who-wasn’t-actually-your-partner, you’d call me. Whenever I felt the nagging effects of a lack of energy, I’d call you.

It just made sense for us to be each other’s crutch, to use each other for our own selfish needs, to build a relationship around our mutual sexual frustrations. I didn’t become attached to you because I was fond of you. I became attached to you because I had this inherently primal desire to ruin you - to come through like a wrecking ball and destroy the life you had known before me.

Every Saturday I invited you to a local party a vague acquaintance of mine was hosting, so we could get drunk enough to have a quickie in a spare room and never speak of it again. Each Wednesday, we would go down to a local nightclub to do the exact same thing. I found myself ditching all my usual friends-with-benefits, and we fell into a daily routine we didn’t realise would be the end of us until it was too late: drink until we couldn’t walk, gamble until there was nothing left in our wallets, fuck until we physically couldn’t keep going, and repeat.

It was at one of these sex-filled parties that you told me you loved me for the second time. The penthouse belonged to a distant friend of mine, and we’d witnessed multiple hookups, drug deals, and fights before you pulled me out onto the balcony for some fresh air. We stood in silence together as we both watched the bright lights of the city spread into the distance and took in the sounds of a restless society.

Our shoulders were only mere inches apart - a poignant symbol of our relationship, of how we were so close yet so far away from actually knowing anything about each other. You turned towards me, I remember seeing the lights of the city below us reflected in your eyes, and for a fleeting moment I regretted how our relationship had ended with us harbouring a coexisting love and hate for each other - an emotional ambivalence, never crossing the line either way, but teetering too precariously for us to ever have a healthy relationship.

When you smiled, told me you loved me, and delicately kissed my cheek, I didn’t hesitate to tell you I loved you back. It was a lie, of course. I knew it was a lie, and I think you knew it was a lie, too.

The third time you said “I love you”, you were crying so hard that I’m sure you couldn’t even see my face.

When I first met you, you said you were a university student, studying biology (or something like that; honestly, remembering your education was not my main priority at the time). You had a part time job, and you lived in a dorm rented by the university.

Were we born purely to destroy each other? It certainly felt like it.

By the time we were through with each other, you were functionally a university drop out. Attending all those drug-fueled parties with me became your life, and studying was placed on the backburner for me. You were skipping classes to chill out and have sex with me, and more than a few times I spied a letter from the university warning you of your inevitable expelliation. You’d been fired from your part time job almost as soon as I had fixed my claws into your life - clearly it wasn’t possible to hold a job if you never actually showed up. Because you had no job, and you were spending all your money on alcohol and gambling with me, you could no longer afford to live in the university dorm anymore.

My life was falling apart, too. Ever since we had met that day, I’d been hyper fixated on you. My mind was constantly filled with you, Y/N. Thoughts of when I’d see you next. Thoughts of which places I could take you to get absolutely shit-faced. Thoughts of how I could make you scream out in pleasure. Thoughts of how you were always on my mind, like a constant itch I could never quite scratch. Thoughts of how I could destroy you.

It was only when you told me you were on the verge of homelessness and begged me to let you stay with me that I finally realised our relationship was a huge problem for both of us. I loved you so much, Y/N, but our relationship was taking over my life. You made me break my one rule - not to get attached - and that angered me. It stimulated a desire in me to totally wreck you and your life.

I didn’t know how to deal with the simultaneous feelings of love and hate for you that were that strong. I loved you so much, and the only way I could get you to stay with me is if I ruined every other aspect of your life - your education, your career, your financial security. You were sweet, Y/N, but you were naive, and vulnerable. It made it easy for me to envelope you into my toxic life, and then spit you out when I was finished with you.

Only, the way I was acting wasn’t a reflection of who I truly was. I’d never reacted this way to someone I’d been seeing before. When I realised just how toxic our relationship was, I knew I had to end it. Being around you made me want to destroy every part of you - to take your heart in my hand and squeeze until it shattered into a million pieces - and that wasn’t normal, nor was it okay.

The day I sat you down and told you it was over, you started crying immediately. Of course you did, who could blame you? I was the only thing you had left in this harsh world, and now I was slipping from your grasp, too. It was only when you told me you loved me, through the bitter tears rolling down your cheeks, that my stoic mask broke. I knew you loved me, and I love you too, so much, but we just couldn’t go on like this. We couldn’t keep hurting each other this way.

So, when it was all said and done, we promised not to see each other ever again.

The last time you said “I love you”, we were twenty-two.

Turns out, you’re really good at keeping promises. I never saw you again, after the day we broke up. I held up my end of the bargain, too, but it was so hard. The temptation to message you, to crawl back into your life like a nasty leech was always there in the back of my mind. The idealization that your life had gone to pure shit since I’d left was also prominent, and the hopes that you’d message me saying how you couldn’t live without me were strong, but not reality.

We’re fifty now.

In the past 28 years since we’d last seen each other, not a day went by where I didn’t think about you. As the years wore on, my hate towards you and the effects of our relationship slowly dissipated, and I was left with the empty feeling of regret. Yesterday, you were on the news. The biochemical company you worked with had just discovered a key component for the development of an important vaccine, and you’d been the one to speak with the press about it. When I saw your face, decorated with the fine lines of age, your hair showing sneaky signs of greying, I expected all the memories of us to come washing over me again. Instead, all I felt was remorse.

While your life was constantly on the upwards, mine had been spiralling down. After we’d broken up, I found it hard to find another lover to replace you. No one I slept with made me feel the same passion as you did - no one fueled that primal desire in me the way you did. I still had sex because I needed to in order to live, feeding off of the energy of others was what kept me alive, but it became more of a chore than anything. I was alive, but I wasn’t living. I was just existing. I am still just existing, twenty-eight years on.

When I think about you, Y/N, I think about what we could have been. What would have happened if we loved each other? Not loved the feeling of destroying each other, but of truly caring for one another? Would we have been happy together? I searched your name on the internet, and your wikipedia says you are contentedly married. Says you have been for well over eighteen years. I hope your partner loves you. I hope they treat you better than I did. I hope you’re happy with them.

I don’t think that our love story could have ended any other way. We were both too young, too vulnerable, and too obsessed with each other to ever have a happy ending together. I wish I could tell you how much I miss you, but I made a promise to you to not see you again, which I guess is why I’m writing this letter instead. To tell the paper all the things I will never get to say to you. To finally put it out there that if I had the chance to go back and forget you, to never meet you, I would. I wish nothing more than to go back to living a life where I had never loved you.

When I broke up with you, I wanted you to be happy. I knew I wouldn’t like it, but I knew in order to see you content again, I’d have to go. I left, you became happy and found the love of your life, and I will have to live with the regrets of my past actions for the rest of my miserable life.

I really hope you’re as happy as you seem.

Jaemin

#neowritingsnet #cznnet #nct-writers #dreamwritersnet #nct #nct dream #nct jaemin #jaemin nct #jaemin #na jaemin #jaemin x reader #jaemin imagine #jaemin scenario #jaemin nct dream #supernatural nct

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anthrogothic · 3 years

Text

Body/Prision

~Well, this is the first fic I've posted (not that I've written many). Maybe I found it interesting to explore the emotional and psychological side of the clones and, of course, Echo. Besides, of course, other little things. Hope you like it. 🥺 (and sorry for any mistake as this fic was originally written in brazilian portuguese).

Second part heeeeree

Pairing: Echo x fem!Reader (in this chapter only Hunter and Wrecker appear for now)

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Body insecurity and bullying.

You were always a woman of science. Curious, persistent and genius. As a child, you loved growing plants and watching animals. Sometimes experimented with changing the color of flowers in jars with colorful products or hatching small eggs of birds and reptiles in small boxes bathed in light and heated cloths. You once set fire to his parents Aldeeranian Silk curtains, after pointing a magnifying glass in front of the sunlight streaming through the windows.

No wonder you was one of the top students at Naboo's Faculty of Science when was older. After all, you were one of the few females in your class. Being constantly the victim of offensive comments and jokes, mainly because of baggy clothes that didn't mark your body, adopted after years of harassment for your sharp curves. Your glasses and voluminous hair didn't do much for the "jokes" to stop. Withdrawn in any group of popular and partying colleagues, you had nothing but to study with your few fellow “nerds”.

As a result, you soon got your first job in the field. Standing out so much that you was invited to participate in the cloning processes on Kamino a few times, even creating a certain professional relationship with Nala Se, the chief scientist.

You weren't a fan of cloning, even though it was incredible, you found it somewhat unethical in relation to the impact on the lives of Jango Fett clones. They weren't just battle products or numbers to you, but Human Beings with as many rights as anyone else. That they should have autonomy over their lives. But work is not always 100% pleasant, as much as it is something you love as long as you understand being human.

With your occasional visits to Kamino, you ended up having the sympathy of the clones, precisely for treating them like ordinary people, with different names and personalities despite the identical DNA and their fateful serial numbers.

You even ate with them in the cafeteria instead of the staff room and played with them in your free time and some would sneak men's uniforms for you, who were too bothered by the looks and teasing you received in your tight women's uniform.

One day, during a typical meal with your friends, a tone of laughter and nasty comments made you take your attention off your plate.

You poked your clone friend in the shoulder on your right.

"What is happening?"

He, without even looking up, snorted a laugh and spoke before taking the meal to his mouth:

"So you don't know the subject of the moment? There is a new squad among us. Weird… but they haven't suffered a single casualty on the field so far."

You raised an eyebrow, craning your neck a few times in an attempt to see something.

"I was not informed of this. I have not been assigned to inspect newly graduated soldiers for some time. But why the laughter and so much whispering?"

Deep in your brain, the bitter memory of your college days was pulled.

Your friend gave you an incredulous look, gesturing to find the right words to avoid any reprimand from you:

"They… well… are technically defective. Very different from us. No wonder they nicknamed them The Bad Batch."

He stifled a laugh. Soon getting punched in the arm accompanied by a scowl from you.

"Okay, okay. Forgive me, clone rights advocate."

His irony was clear, making you roll your eyes and get up, heading towards the counter where they left the used dishes. After thanking the wrinkled green lady who served the meal, you turned in the direction of leaving the cafeteria, but a sharp impact on your face and chest propels you back, followed by a lot of pain and strong hands gripping your elbows.

"Hey! Are you okay?"

A familiar, but deeper and stronger voice resonated in your ears, making you open your eyes faster than you normally would, as you bring your hand to your forehead and in the background thanking the Maker for wearing contact lenses instead of glasses today . It took you a while to map the face of the man in front of you. His long dark hair fell to his shoulders, his red bandana letting out a few shorter strands across his forehead, his almond-shaped eyes looking a little worried, and finally, a tattoo that covered the entire left part of his face.

He was familiar…but at the same time very different from the other clones. Even the armor, grey and red. Definitely seeing a different face in that cafeteria was a bit intriguing.

"I think you broke her, Hunter!"

A loud, husky voice came from behind you, making you turn your back to the tattooed man, just to behold the huge soldier who covered your entire field of vision.

He was huge, broad and with perfectly shaped muscles. Gradually, your eyes traveled from his abdomen, across his broad chest to his face. This one had no hair. He had a blind eye, with a huge scar running from there to the ear. The clone's good eye looked you up and down, literally.

"I'm fine… sorry… I-"

You were shocked by the image of both men. Could it be they who your friend had spoken of?

You can barely complete your sentence when interrupted by a clone next to you.

"Well well. The scientist and her laboratory freaks. How comical..."

He didn't even stop to stare at you, being followed by two other clones who clearly enjoyed the bad joke.

The men beside you clenched their fists and the bigger one growled, taking long, heavy strides in front of you, until he was stopped by the tattooed-faced clone, who practically jumped in front of him, bracing a hand on his chest.

"Forget it, Wrecker. It's not worth it… and we can't take another warning for assault in the cafeteria."

The taller one nodded a few seconds later, clearly disappointed not to get his hands on his attacker.

With slow steps, you approached them, curious and also irritated by the other clone's words.

"Idiots."

You huffed, crossing your arms over your voluminous breasts.

"You are the new squad the others are talking about, aren't you?"

There was a certain wonder in your voice now.

"Force Clone 99, doctor!"

The two said in chorus, with clear pride in their words and saluting.

"The rest of the team is going through the assessment upstairs. Miraculously we both got through!"

Said the taller clone, with humor in his voice, pulling a smirk from the tattooed clone.

You smiled, even more in awe of them. They were beautiful, unique and not "sloppy".

"Nice to meet you Hunter and… Wrecker, isn't it? My name is Y/N, I work in the lab."

The two looked at each other, minimally polite treatment to the clones was a little rare around here.

"We've heard about you. Won't you give me a warning? For… bumping into you?"

Hunter was a little suspicious, moving closer to you, watching your forehead. Looking for any evidence of injury.

"Oh no, of course not. It was an accident. I also barely looked where I was going."

You tried to be as gentle as possible, despite your brow and nose bothering you, already realizing that it couldn't be too easy for them to get along with each other. You continued:

"Trust me, I know what it's like to be bothered all the time by little jokes and to have people pick on me out of simple dislike. I'm not like the rest of the employees."

Wrecker approached you, already with a content expression on his face.

"There is! I liked her! At least someone here doesn't hate us!"

The clone pulled you into a hug, pressing his side with yours. You blushed a little, as physical contact was never common with you.

Hunter continued with a suspicious expression and his arms now crossed, making him even more imposing, just taking the look off your face, when the communicator you carried in your pocket beeped.

Brought out of your reverie by Wrecker's tight embrace and Hunter's form, you picked up your communicator to read the newly arrived messages.

"Uh… I need to go. Nala Se never give me a break. See you later guys. Hope to meet the rest of you!"

You headed towards the exit, leaving a sympathetic smile as you left the clones. They were still there, trying to absorb how kind you, a scientist, were to them.

#tbb x reader #echo x reader #star wars #the bad batch x reader #the clone wars #fanfic #hunter x reader #arc trooper echo #clone simp #body/prision #echo x you #echo x fem reader #echo x y/n #star wars x reader #clone wars x reader #clone trooper x reader

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peeterparkr · 3 years

Text

The Holiday.|Tom Holland

chapter two: Pride and Prejudice (Jane Austen)

↳ read Sophia’s version here and Tom’s phone call. (Tim fic) BY @jambrosemc

There’s two sides to the story, the Tom fic written by me and the Tim fic by @jambrosemc for thw full experience (though you don’t need to) be sure to check out both!

STORY SUMMARY: Two women troubled with guy-problems, one who’s in love with love and one who doesn’t believe in it are both suffering from a broken heart, with little reasoning and nothing left to lose, they swap homes in each other’s countries for the holidays, where they’ll meet a local guy who will probably change their destiny.

chapter summary: new beginnings and first impressions pairing: tom holland x y/n | warnings: Chad word count: 7.8k

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You had gone through every single stage of a broken heart before, every single one of them. Haircuts. Wine. Clubbing. Reading. New life. Sobbing on the floor. Denial. Sort of acceptance. Working out. Eating your feelings. Coffee shops.Bars. Sleeping all day. Not sleeping at all. But this? Exchanging homes with a complete strange and travelling to the other side of the world? This was crazy. Completely crazy, and yet, you didn’t want to back off. This was the one thing that, if it didn’t work, you were screwed.

This was certainly not what you had imagined you’d end up doing for the Holidays, yet it was better than any other idea you’d come up with, because maybe, though you tried to avoid the thought of knowing damn well you’d feel lonelier in a foregin place, it’d help you get out of your suffering.

“So, okay, we went through dog food already right?” You asked, as you were on the back of the Uber on your way to the airport, your dog was still your number one concern.

You were on the phone with Sophia, the british woman who had her life sorted up. “We did, yep.” She paused, thoughtfully. “And I told you everything about the shop and it’s hours?”

You were getting cold feet, honestly. “Yes, right, but… I don’t have to worry about opening right?” You asked her. “That guy…. what was his name?” You couldn’t remember. “Ted? Opens up right?”

“Tom,” she cleared up. Of course, how could you forget his name, his name was the same as your damned dog. “And no you don’t. He’ll take care of it all, or should. She got off the phone for a bit but then turned back to you. “If you don’t mind, keep me updated about him though?”

“Oh, of course, I wouldn’t trust a man either, “ you laughed. “I’ll check on him.” If you had the time, you were going to make yourself explore the city.

“Thanks.” She sounded relieved. “And I’ll of course update you on Tommy.”

You were so nervous of leaving your dog to a stranger, maybe you could tell your brother to go and check on him, too. Yeah, you needed to give Tim a call. “Please, I’ve never been away from my baby… “ You pleaded and then went through the basics on your head. “Uh, so the keys are under the porch thing I told you.”

“Right, and I put mine on that book,” she recalled.

“Right, right…. “ And then suddenly you were arriving at the airport. It had turned real. “Okay so we are doing this.”

“Apparently so… This is a good idea, right?” Sophia asked you.

In all honesty, it wasn’t. This was one of the-if not the craziest idea you’ve ever had, but at the same time it was thrilling. Exciting and inviting and it gave you the opportunity for a story, or time to write one, if you could.

“Having second thoughts now?” You asked, amused. “When we’re both on our way to the airport?”

That was a lie, you were already arriving.

“No, no. I just… I guess I’m just a bit nervous is all,” Sophia admitted.

You chuckled, nervously. “I’m kidding, I’m terrified, too.”

Because who wouldn’t be? This was the one thing that was incredibly terrifying.

“Well, I’m nearly there. I guess there is no going back at this point,” she said.

Because there wasn’t. You were having second thoughts, honestly. Wanting to give up and go back to your boring life. But then again, this was your chance to escape your boring life and this was your chance to actually make something interesting for once in your life.

You finally looked up, the driver was waiting for you as you got out of the car.

“I’m… actually here, so I’ll…” You paused, you couldn’t breathe, your nerves were tickling as you picked your bags and then faced the small airport standing in front of you. “I was gonna say see you on the other side but that’s stupid so… I guess this is a sort of goodbye?” You gulped.

This was it.

“Guess so… I’ll talk to you later?” She suggested.

You wondered if she was losing her shit as much as you were, honestly you wanted to jump and scream. You were excited, but excitement can often be confused with being scared, and you weren’t sure how thin this line was.

You took a deep breath. “Right, and please send me a picture of Danny so I can personally slap him,” you were only half-joking.

“Oh of course, and you’ll have to send one of Chad so I can slap him as well,” she answered with a sort of relief.

“Well, this is…” You were shaking, you closed your eyes. “I…”You paused again. Good luck, here’s to a well deserved break.”

“Good luck to you too.” Sophia on the other side sounded just as scared as you were. “I hope you’re able to clear your mind.”

You hoped so, too. You hope your mind could finally get out of the trance that having Chad was.

“You too, well here goes,” you said before heading to the airport.

“Goodbye then.”

“...Bye.”

You hung up, and suddenly the small airport had never looked any bigger. You were so close to changing your life. Big opportunities, big, big chances. You couldn’t possibly dare. But you were there, at the airport, so hugely standing in front of you. You felt very small, that was nothing new. You always did feel small, The world was waiting for you.

But you were not ready for it. You were going to back away, you felt fear invading your stomach, you stepped back, but then you saw a couple, kissing in the distance, you felt sorry for yourself. You couldn’t keep longing for that if you never risked anything. You couldn’t continue saying you were tired of being a secondary character if you didn’t risk doing main character things. This was just halfway to it.

You finally stepped in and made your way across it.

Because this was the first time you ever did anything, this was the first time you were getting lost in a dream, and letting yourself slip into time and actually going through with things. The day had been sunny. This was supposed to be your day. You wondered if people even turned to see you, you were nothing important, not really standing out from the crowds. But they didn’t know you were having the biggest adventure of a lifetime. Silly to think.

As soon as you were sitting on the plane, you knew you couldn't back away now and this was it. This was it, a new beginning, tarnishing every single fear upon you, you tried to mingle your feelings and calm down your nerves. You knew it was the right choice, otherwise you’d end up curled up on your sofa, digging your nose into each and every one of the books you’ve read already and staring at the ones waiting to be read, but never did for a reason or another. You couldn’t have another Christmas like that, this was it, not another one with you trying to avoid the question of why you were lonely again on Christmas and giving an excuse for each year. Sure, you’d be lonely but at least you didn’t need to answer questions about it. Besides, who knows, this was your chance, and you were already in the place so you couldn’t do much. You had an open window for freedom, for lessons to be learned and—Probably not that much, honestly. It was just a trip, how much can a trip change your life?

A handsome man had walked in, and smiled at you. He was around your age, gentle smile and blue eyes. This was your first sign, because you did believe in them, mo matter how stupid you believed life found a way to tell us we were doing the right choices, only you’d always avoided them. Yes, it had been the right choice. Who knows? Maybe you’d end up finding love in a plane. Oh who were you kidding, you probably had no chance, and you were proven you wouldn’t right away as you saw the man’s beautiful girlfriend sitting right beside him.

You wouldn’t find a chance like that, you were not a main character. You’d always known you were a plot device. There were main characters, secondary characters and plot devices. You were the last one.

Your phone dinged. And the sound made you shiver. A friend of yours had once advised to give a specific notification sound for Chad, so therefore you’d avoid it. Needless to say, it had been counterproductive since you would dream with that sound and hope you’d end up hearing it every day.

But this was different. This wasn’t him answering to another one of your lame attempts to start up a conversation. Chad had been the one who reached out to you.

“Hey, y/n! Couldn’t see you after the party, are you up for tonight?”

You only stared at the text. This was the reason why you needed to get out. Him reaching out and your heart jumping a little. You needed some willpower. You couldn’t let yourself fall again for the lie his lips were, you couldn’t let yourself be tangled against the sheets with a man who didn’t love you as he should, who didn’t love you for that matter.

“I’m going on vacation. London. “ you answered.

He texted back, quickly. That was a first. “First vacation in three years is turning point.

It was, for sure. “Yeah.”

He didn’t answer.

“Congrats on your engagement.” Though you did not mean it.

“Thanks xx. So, when can we facetime?” He asked.

With all the pain in your heart, but with the same courage you’d taken to finally go away you said: “We both know I need to fall out of love with you. Would be great if you would let me try.”

You sent it and then turned your phone off.

You didn’t need any more Chad. This was it, the one time you needed to escape and this was your chance.

A chance to finally get away from him for real, a chance to forget it. And to not feel deplorable on Christmas. You needed to forget him, you couldn’t stay with someone who didn’t celebrate your love. You needed to be loved and though you knew you wouldn’t find love in London, maybe you could learn to love yourself. It was the main reason why you knew you loved Chad, because you didn’t stand up for your own.

You slept for most of the flight, then connected to the other one and then it was real. You had left the US, and off to the other side of the water. Maybe it hit you until that point, the last person you’d ever gone on vacation with had been Chad and this--- No, this was the reason why you were leaving, your mind had to stop going back and forth with him.

Before you knew it, you were in London, the dawn welcoming you in all your esplendor. And it felt… different, and it hit you. For the first time you’d gotten out of your little cage and this was big. This probably had been the best idea, though crazy, the best idea you’d ever had. You were out, you were in a city that was giving you endless possibilities to wander, and to explore and endless possibilities to find yourself.

Someone had once told you that to find yourself, you’d have to be lost first, you had never felt more lost in your life, so this was your chance, to get even more lost in a city, and this was your chance, to get out there.

It was raining as you’d arrived, and as you’d ran out of the airport, small droplets had fallen on you. You could go straight to the house, but something about trying new things had gotten on to you.

It felt like Christmas, in a way. Everyone walked with their coats and umbrellas and scarfs around their necks, people who were busy, people who weren’t. People walking into shops, and people walking to their jobs, and drunken people walking out of the pubs, welcoming the sun.

The city lights felt magical, and you had always loved the feeling of being away from the ocean on Christmas. But now, this was a city, full of possibilities. This was exciting.

You’d seen places you’d seen in movies before, there was a nearby park, you thought about going there later, and exploring a nearby market. You’d be walking all day. Kensington, this place was absolutely gorgeous. And just 6 minutes away from Notting Hill, you still had the thought of the fantasy in your mind. But then… suddenly you were there, standing in front of the bookstore that would be your home for two weeks. Sophia had warned you there was a way in from the shop, and another one from the other place, but the key would be in the bookshop, inside this specific book.

You had walked into the bookstore, a bell had rang as soon as you’d opened the door, you had looked up, it was decorated, elegantly, christmas lights hanging on the shelves, the place was small and comfortable, topped with books here and there, taken out of your dreams, it was small, but it gave a sort of feeling that it was eternal. Infinite place where you could read books over and over. You’d seen the guy-Tom, you assumed, look up and hint a smile as he was talking to an old lady about a book, he was carefully listening to her, so attentive.

“Oh, eh, uh, morning,” he managed to say. He had turned to give you a second glance, you locked eyes with him for a brief second, he had smiled again and then turned away.

“Morning,” you answered.

You’d barely looked at him, but you couldn’t help but notice he was attractive. Very attractive. Had you… blushed? You quickly shook the thought away, this was no time to crush on an english boy, besides this was the guy who probably was in love with Sophia, and you were the plot device, you knew that, you couldn’t even bother to look at him. No, you couldn’t.

Besides, were you that desperate? So incredibly drawn to something you knew would lead nowhere. And how quick were you to jump to conclusions from barely a glance. A smile, a very pretty smile, that crinkled his eyes. No, you couldn’t keep staring

He kept talking to the lady, you could barrel and overhear the conversation as you, still with your luggage, strolled through the places, touching the books, books you’ve read, books you hadn't.

“Yes, I want to give this to my granddaughter, I love this book, Momo,” the old woman explained.

“Incredible read,” the british man answered with a grin. “Michael Ende is-”

Michael, he said Michael, not ‘Michael’, he knew how to pronounce it. Like it was supposed to be pronounced. In german, not like you’d pronounce your friend’s Michael name. Mi- cha- el. Not sure why that had made him even more appealing—No, you couldn’t do this to yourself. This was old y/n kind of thinking, to get out of a broken heart. You always did this, try to fixate on someone else to get over Chad. It never worked. But you were in London, but—No. He was Sophia’s coworker, Sophia’s friend and he was most likely in love with her. Someone like him had to love someone like her.

However, it didn’t hurt if you looked again. Or—did it?

You decided you could look at the guy once again, his eyes brightened up as he watched the woman ramble. He was so delicate, yet bold. Handsome, very. Under his sweater he probably was hiding some well defined muscles, you could tell, not that it mattered, but it did grow something more appealing to him. He was very handsome. Not in a conventional way for your taste, so different from the guys back home. He carried a certain sensuality, but was also heavy on being adorable. A very dangerous combination. His lips were small, his jawline defined, but his sight… As if that pair of eyes could paralyze you, tender eyes with a hint of joy and innocence. He wasn’t innocent, though, he could look, but he wasn’t. He was tapping his fingers, anxiously and he took deep breaths as he listened and gave the lady wider smiles and melodious chuckles. He had blushed at the old lady’s remark that he was handsome, you agreed. His lips were dry, probably from the cold, and he licked them too much while he was speaking to the lovely lady in front of him. His eyes were surrounded by some-not so heavy dark circles, but you could tell he hadn’t probably slept. You wondered why.

You liked to observe people, you were a writer so you liked those little details that people didn’t stop to look at, like the way he would bite his inner cheeks while listening, or raise his eyebrows with surprise every now and then. You liked those details, thinking one day you’d have enough to build up a person, made completely out of details.

You looked away once again, fearing he’d notice your staring and strolled through the books, the arrangement was impeccable, of course Sophia would have the place perfectly ordered. But there were some books here and there that didn’t—make sense for your taste. Or didn’t make sense at all, like an autobiography in a section that was definitely for fairytales.

You heard the bell ring again, an old man. Early 80’s, you guessed, he used a clutch. He wore a vest, a cardigan on top, and a very nice green beret on top of his head, a grey scarf around his neck, he had a coat, still covered from the rain. He seemed adorable.

“Good morning, Thomas!” He greeted him.

Tom smiled. Felt weird knowing his name without having met him yet.“Henry, good morning, I’ll be there with you in a second, I’m here with lovely Doris,” he announced, still listening to the lady.

The old man, Henry gave him a smile and then looked at you. “Good morning, young lady, it’s pouring isn’t it?”

“Morning,” you answered, shyly. “Seems to be.”

“Ah, american, interesting,” he pointed out, his voice was cheerful, old but you could tell he was a lovely human being. “What brings you here to a lovely bookshop in London?”

You smiled. “An adventure,” you said without thinking about it. It sounded better in your head.

He smiled, “I love that answer,” he pointed out. “What kind of adventure?”

You looked around the shop, “Don’t know yet,” you admitted. “I’m trying to find a good story.”

He grinned, “Hm what kind of story?”

“Don’t know,” you admitted again. “I’ll keep looking through the books.”

“Oh,” he nodded slowly. “I thought you wanted a story for yourself.”

“Myself?” you chuckled. “No, I’m good at reading someone else’s. Not good enough to be one myself.”

He stared at you, kindly. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” he declared, and then looked at the shelves. “What to read now.” It amazed you how big of a main character he was, too, you’d probably love to write about him. He turned to you. “You seem… Like a reader.”

“I am,” you said. Though, lately you’d been stuck reading the same ones, never wanting a new story.

“Do you have any suggestions?” He asked.

You grinned, “Well, I guess it depends,” you said. “What do you feel like reading?”

He shrugged and gave you a tender smile, his eyes were shining. “Romance, perhaps?”

“What kind of romance?” You asked, following the same path he had when asking you questions.

“Classic.”

You gave it a thought, he probably had read Shakespeare already, he seemed like a connoisseur. But, somehow, you looked him in the eye and knew your answer. “Love in the time of Cholera, have you read it?” you asked.

“Surprisingly, I have not,” the man seemed perplexed.

“Gabriel Garcia Marquez, it’s… about true love that endures and overcomes adversity for a lifetime, it is a tribute to love, adventure, time, old age and death, ” you said. “It’s an ode to true love.”

“Sounds lovely,” he said. “Well, can you help me find it, please? I’d ask young Thomas but he’s there talking to lovely Doris there.”

“Of course,” you grinned. You proceeded to walk through the store trying to find the book, hoping they would have it.

“What’s your name young lady?” Henry asked.

“Y/N y/l/n” you answered simply.

“Hm, a main character name,” he pointed out.

You shook your head. “You’re wrong about that,” your eyes kept looking through the shelves.

“I’m Henry, Henry Abbot,” he said. “It’s a pleasure to meet Miss y/l/n.”

“Pleasure is mine.”

You needed that book and... It was not in the poetry section, which had you perplexed, they had to have it. “Oh.”

“Is it not here?” Henry asked.

“It’s not,” you frowned. “It’s-”

“Hello, Henry, hi, hello, is there anything I can help you with?” Tom had asked as he had snuck behind, you accidentally stepped back and bumped into him, causing him to knock down two books.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” you said. You were an idiot.

“No, don’t be, it’s alright, it’s my fault, I should’ve announced myself,” Tom answered with a smile, that you knew was probably a fake customer service smile, as he picked up the books.

You then saw the old woman, Doris walk out with not only the book you’d initially seen her with, but other four, Tom was good at selling, you saw Henry had his eyes on her but proceeded to turn back at you.

You were definitely not expecting Tom, right in front of you, you could smell his cologne, it smelled good. Why the hell had you noticed that? You shook your head, before he could notice any sign of your stupidity.

“Oh, er-”

He only raised his eyebrows with a smile.

It was no secret that you were stupid around men, especially around men who were attractive.

“The young lady, miss y/l/n here is helping me,” Henry intruded quickly. “She recommended a book.”

“Oh,” Tom grinned. “Thanks for helping me out with Henry, did you not have trouble giving him a recommendation?” He turned to you again. “He’s read everything,” he said with complicity.

You only smiled and shook your head.

“She didn’t,” Henry pointed out. “Gave me an option right away, perhaps she should have your job instead,” Henry joked.

Tom brought his hand to his chest, hurt. “Henry; now why would you say that to me? Thought we were friends.”

You chuckled and turned to Tom, “Love in The Time of Cholera, Gabriel Garcia Marquez,” you said. “That’s the book—I thought it would be here.”

Tom turned to you, his eyes were even prettier than you thought they were. No, you had to stop. You couldn’t be attracted to him.

“Oh,” Tom was surprised by your statement. “Yeah, yeah, he’s… mexican, right?”

“Colombian,” you corrected.

“Yeah, yeah, it should be--” Tom recalled and then walked to the other side, he searched through the titles and then finally found it in the language section. “There, this one?”

“This is not in the right section,” you said.

“Why not I put it there myself this morning—“Tom chuckled, handing over the book to Henry. “Another one, or shall I help you check out, Henry?”

Henry smirked. “No, I want to know why she believes is in the wrong section.”

“This is romance,” you cleared up, as if it was obvious already.

“Oh?” Tom raised his brows.

“It’s in the Spanish section,” you continued.

“He… speaks spanish,” Tom said.

You only stared at him, in shock. Any kind of sign of attractiveness had been completely erased.

“Besides,” Tom smirked. “You were looking for it at the poetry section, not romance novels,” he pointed out.

“I…” You blinked. You had said that particular book for another reason. It was the book where Sophia had told you she’d hidden the key. She told you she’d moved the book from the romance novels to the poetry section.

Tom reached the counter, holding the book himself. You tried to reach for him,

“Ah, er, can I see it for a second?”

Tom furrowed his eyebrows, and grimaced. “Hm?”

“Yeah, let me see if it’s… The one I meant,” you lied.

He watched you skeptically. “Umm… why wouldn’t it be?”

Henry watched between you both, humored.

“I….please?” You begged.

“Oh, don’t be rude to the pretty lady,” Henry pushed. “Let her see the book.”

Tom opened his mouth but defeatedly handed you the book. You mouthed a quiet thanks and then skimmed through it, trying to find the keys. They were not there.

Weird. There was no key. You blinked with surprise and looked up at Tom, who seemed pleased.

“Is it?” Tom asked.

“Yeah—It is,” you handed it over. Tom had a mischievous look on his face, he was humored by this situation.

“She’s American, and looking for a story of adventure,” Henry said to Tom.

“We all are, aren’t we?” Tom mentioned.

Henry looked between the both of you. “Are you here for the holidays, ma’am?”

So formal. “I am.”

“Traveling with your significant other, I presume,” Henry said while Tom was checking the book out.

“I—Well,” suddenly you felt lonely. “That position hasn’t been filled at the moment.”

Henry smirked, and then looked at Tom quickly then back at you. “With family, then?”

“I—No, I came here alone,” you explained. “

“So, it’ll be £11.03, Henry,” Tom interrupted as he put the book in a bag.

Henry looked at Tom, “where’s lovely Sophia?”

“I’d like to know, too,” Tom answered. “It’s not like her not showing up. She hasn’t called me back.”

Henry nodded.

You were confused. Had Sophia not told Tom she’d left? It felt like it was your time to intrude, but before you could explain, Henry looked at you and said. “Go give this young lady a story, Thomas.”

The man left.

“I—“you coughed. “Sorry, uh—“

Tom had a wide smile. “So… what can I actually help you with? Miss y/l/n, Any book in—“

“I well, I—“ you couldn’t speak.

Tom chuckled. “Yeah? Or are you going to complain about another book arrangement.”

“I wasn’t complaining, I'm just… very observant, alright?”

He grinned. “Well, did you observe anything misplaced?”

“Well, I did see a fairytale on the autobiographies sections,” you admitted.

Tom blinked, perplexed. “Huh we did that yesterday,” he was surprised. “Oh right but--” He coughed. “So, well, you’re seeking for an adventure book-”

“Not exactly,” you answered.

“What then, romance?”

You blinked. What did he mean by that?

“You seem like you read romance,” he pointed out.

“What is that supposed to mean?” You questioned him, chuckling lightly.

He grinned. “Nothing, you just--suggested a romance book easily to Henry,” he pointed out. “It’s a good one, it broke my heart, in a good way.”

“You’ve read it?” You asked. He didn’t seem like someone who’d read romance. He… honestly didn’t look like someone who read, at all. Of course, you should never judge a book by its cover but of course the cover always tells us a lot, a name and an author at least. You knew his name, who was the author?

He smirked. “It’s ugly, and it’s sad-”

“But it’s love,” you finished his sentence, quoting the book. “Yeah,” you smiled, not believing he had actually read it. “Great book. You don’t seem like someone who’d read that.”

“I’m a sucker for those kinds of stories,” he admitted. “Don’t look like it, but I love that, soulmates and everything.”

You chuckled. “Me too,” you said.

“To think that two people are destined to find each other even when life pulls them apart,” he said. “And I mean he… waited 50 years.”

“Yes, he did, even when she’d made the mistake to reject him.”

“Sometimes that’s how love is,” he shrugged. And it was, you knew that.

“It is,” you said. “It’s complicated.”

“The book? Or love?” He looked into you, with a certain mischief.

“Both, I guess,” you said,calmly. “But I mean that’s the magic of that book, love is complicated and so is the book.”

“But also, it’s not-I mean, I loved it, don’t get me wrong but I couldn’t… I understood their love but I’ve-I mean it’s old love.”

You laughed. “Old love?”

He laughed softly to himself, “I mean, it’s not-Something I could relate to.”

“Well, no, because although love is something universal, not one love can be duplicated, love is unique.”

He watched you perplexed. You wondered if you had said something wrong, or if your way of talking about love with a stranger had bothered him. It bothered most people, most people were afraid of love and were confused by the way you saw it, and confused because you’d lost it so many times. Everyone wondered how you kept believing in it after so much pain, but that’s the thing about love, though there is one love, you can truly feel love for.

“I’ve never heard someone putting it that way,” he chuckled. “Love being something we all feel but at the same time… it’s different, yeah.”

Why were you talking about love with this man?

“That’s what I’ve gathered from all the romance novels you assumed I read,” you chuckled. “Love is universal but it’s personal.”

He chuckled and nodded in agreement. “No, I guess… You’re… right, huh, I’ve never seen it that way,” he said. “So do you want another romance novel?”

Was he flirting?

You shook your head. “No,” you smiled. “I’m actually-that book.”

“No, wait, actually…” He interrupted, as he shook his head, probably backing away from flirting. “Sorry...This is bothering me, care showing me where the misplaced book was?” He asked.

You had just told him, was he flirting? You’d never known how to flirt so you wouldn’t know. But you guessed it harmed nobody showing him, you lead the way, still carrying your whole luggage.

But why the hell had you talked about that with a stranger. It felt weird, but he didn’t feel like one. Probably because you’d already known his name. There was something so incredibly familiar to him. So easily had you blurted out the whole love thing, and he probably was scared of it. Most people were, you would understand if he was, too.

“So--here,” you headed and tried to reach for the misplaced book on top of the shelf, as you had some stray sticker had flown and landed directly on your eyes, for your own luck. “Ow!” You tried to get it out but you couldn't.

“Oh, wait, wait, let me help,” he said before. “May I?”

“Yes, please,” you said, You only looked up, he held your chin, which definitely made you nervous, but he stared into your eyes and finally got the sticker out of your eye.

“I’m so sorry, sometimes they get stuck and we don’t see them-“ He said quickly getting his touch out of you.

“No, you’re good, don’t worry,” you said. “So, here’s the lost book.”

He watched you with curiosity and for a brief moment your eyes were locked into one but you quickly looked away. You were not doing this. This was so stupidly cliché, the love conversation with him, having to directly look into your eyes, it was so stupidly cliché and obviously not as romantic as you thought it was going in your head.. You hated it. Because you were not a stupid main character, this was so stupid. This things, in novels, would lead to some kind of romance, but you were not the main character and this was just stupid.

“Yeah, right,” he coughed. “But uh, wait, so for Love in The--eh, the book, yeah, how did- Why were you looking for it in the poetry section? I mean it is… very poetic but,” Tom was confused as he watched you. Felt weird he was looking at you, his eyes had this charm that made you feel like he only was fixated on you.

“I—Well, there were supposed to be some keys in that book,” you explained.

“Hm? Were there?” He asked with fake surprise, but he actually seemed confused.

You frowned. “They were, in that book and it’d be on that section—“

“Hm, doesn’t ring a bell,” he shrugged with a smirk.

“Yeah, in that book, Love in The Times of Cholera,” you pushed. “So—“

“Yeah, I do remember some keys,” he coughed, shaking his head. “But I’m not giving them to you,” he mumbled.

“Sophia told me—wait you’re not—?”You blinked.

“Sophia?” he seemed doubtious.

“Yeah, Sophia, your friend, right she is—in America, at my place, we—switched homes and so she left me the key there—“

“She did now?” He wasn't buying it.

“Yeah,” you continued. “She left, we exchanged homes for the holidays.”

“I--” He chuckled. “What?”

“Didn’t she tell you?”

“Tell me what, exactly?”

“She went on vacation, to my place in America, we switched homes for two weeks.”

He laughed. “I don’t believe you, Sophia doesn’t go anywhere.”

“Yeah, we have that in common,” you pointed out. “But—But—okay, so she’s in America, in Oregon.”

“Why would she go to Oregon?” Tom asked. “Of all places—“

“Yeah, look,” you cleared your throat. Did seem suspicious. “I—we both needed to get away so we switched places, and well—Why don’t you give me the key?”

“So, tell me, miss y/l/n, sorry I’m calling you that it’s what dear old Henry called you, but you’re expecting me to give you the key, to you, a stranger, to my best friend’s home?”

“Yeah...” you heard how it sounded.

“You’re expecting me to believe that?”

Well, he did have a point. “Well, yeah—I— thought she’d told you.“

“Sophia would never do that,” Tom said. You’d learned he was also annoying.

“Yeah, and neither would I, but here I am in London in a bookshop talking to you while holding my luggage, you really think I’m lying?”

He stared at you. “Yeah.”

And there it went, the fantasy had ended. Because you were not a main character in a stupid romance novel.

“You—Look, I know she—But look, she broke up with Danny, and she needed to get away and we—“

“Yeah but this is mental,” Tom said.

“It is,” you admitted. “And I might regret it, alright but I’m already here, thousand miles away and please, can I just have the key? I need a break, I need to-”

“I’m not, I can’t… I’m sorry I just can’t give it to you.”

“Well—Why—Look, we can call her? I don’t know if she’s there yet? But she can prove we actually did this?”

“Still I… Look, I would… recommend you a hotel, I mean-Look. There’s this hotel right beside--It’s on Notting Hill,”

“Please, let’s just… I’ll call her,” you said, taking out your phone. This was stressful enough.

“Oh, no, no, I’ll call her, how do I know it’s not a crazy friend of yours-”

“Crazy?” You frowned. If you had been attracted to the man in front of you, you definitely weren’t now.

“I’m-” He knew he had screwed up. “This is mental,” he whispered. He took out his phone, “She hasn’t answered all day- so-”

“She was on a plane.”

“Uh, huh, for all I know you could be a criminal,” Tom pointed out.

Criminal, he had just been flirting with you second before. “Ah, yeah, I am a criminal,” you snapped. You didn’t like him anymore.

He seemed angry, you didn’t know why.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he said before walking away from you to hear. Of course. You technically didn’t blame him. Still he was rude.

You felt like crying. Again, this wasn’t right. This was the one thing why you’d left. Was this a mistake? It probably was, why else would you feel so small. He was right, this was.. A stranger, you were a stranger. And not in the way one would think, you were a stranger to yourself. Why were you there?

Honestly, you wanted to leave. It… was weird. You wondered why he didn’t believe it. Of course, he wouldn’t believe someone like Sophia would do this, Sophia seemed to be very calculated. Like someone who always knew what she was doing. You guessed you understood that.

But he seemed worried about her. Really Sophia had everything, at least someone was asking her what she was doing. No one questioned you. You watched him, he was angry, or worried or upset, or everything at once.

You could overhear him, just a few lines, you didn’t want to seem like you were intruding.

“The—Well, y/n? I don’t know her name—” He said and turned to you, he watched you from agair and you just nervously looked away. This was unbelievably awkward. “Henry called her—Whatever, no, she doesn’t have them, I have them, who is she?”

Henry had called you ‘Miss Y/L/n”, yes. But now he knew your name. He didn’t know you knew his.

You overheard again. “She is a stranger.”

And then it crossed your mind, Sophia was a stranger. Why the hell had you done this? How had you done this? And you felt it in your stomach, this wasn’t like you. You never did anything. This was risking everything. This was getting out of your shell.

“I… I don’t trust her. I’m… tell her to get a hotel,” you heard him.

This was just not it. You felt dizzy, and anxious and this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. This was supposed to be your fairytale and it felt like the worst nightmare. How was Sophia doing?

At least she didn’t have to deal with anyone closing the door to your place, she’d have Tommy and you were sure the pup received her well.

Tom watched you and turned to his phone and then you knew he was speaking at a lower volume, he probably knew you had overheard him.

Tom was not happy, you could tell. Maybe this was his nightmare, after all, you assumed, he was in love with Sophia.

He walked back to you, still staring at his phone.

“Well, she’s gonna kill me if I don’t give you the keys,” he said, not still sure of it. “Look, I’m-”

“I know you don’t trust me, I get it, but-Look, I am already here, I’m tired, I honestly feel like crap and I’m on a foreign country trying to remain as calm as I coul, look, I get it, I’m doubting it myself, but I trust her, she’s on my place, with Tommy-”

“Who-?”

“My dog, and I’m trusting her with that, so I know, I know, it is...mental or whatever fancy british ass word you used, and I myself can’t quite put my head as to why I did this, I don’t do this kind of stuff, I never do anything like this, and I know, it’s-Weird, and crazy but-You don’t have to be rude, alright? I’m not a criminal, I’m not- I’m just a girl whose heart was broken and needed to escape, and I-and Sophia was, too, okay? So maybe we just-I don’t know, I need to...” You knew your voice had broken a litte, and it surely pissed you off. “And Sophia, if she’s your friend, you’d understand why she’s doing this, she got her heartbroken, she was destroyed, someone made her believe it was her fault she was cheated on,” you pushed. “You know, when I talked to her-”

“You don’t know-”

“Maybe I just met her but I seem to understand her better than you,” you said. “And-and and before you say anything,” he had opened his mouth to complain. “I know, she is calculated, and I know she makes the right decision, but you don’t…Do you know how she feels with the breakup?”

He didn’t answer.

“Look, I don’t… That’s between you and her, alright-I-”

You’d been saved by the bell, literally. A customer had walked in and Tom had to help them out.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and then dug in his pocket. He hesitantly handed them to you, but he didn’t let go as you had your hand reaching for them.

“It—uh, the red one is—“

“From inside the bookshop and the blue one outside,” you nodded. “Yeah, she told me.”

Tom sighed before finally letting the keys fall on your hand. His fingers had brushed lightly, something you would’ve noticed and dreamed about 10 minutes ago, but you weren’t so fond of him now.

“Thank you,” you said and headed to the door where Sophia had told you it would be. At that point you realized, you hadn’t even properly introduced yourself to him.

You didn’t want to, honestly.

You had trouble opening the door but as soon as Tom had turned to you, you managed to open it. You walked in, and as soon as you’d closed the door, you wanted to cry, because it seemed like it was your only talent.

But you went upstairs and found the place, it was so neat, and organized and perfect and… Very office-like. Everything was where it was meant to be, so perfectly organized. Everything had a place. It was so clean. Nothing, nothing out of place. With plants, she’d told you about her houseplants. Elegantly and modernly decorated.

Perfect. So elegant, with a dining table that had stationery on top. Dining table that was used to work? Sophia really didn’t know how to separate her job from her life. You’d known it since she’d told you she lived above her bookshop. Which honestly, you couldn’t blame, your job was writing and you were sure all your writings were scattered around your house. Your place was a mess, really, compared to Sophia’s squared house.

Everything was so in place. The order you needed after the mess you had of a life. Just a glance and you felt… great. You’d even forgotten the whole issue with that random british dude, who, you’d avoid.

This was incredible. You dropped the bags in the middle of the place and ran around her house to discover every little detail, because you knew you’d get to know who Sophia was better by her place.

Her kitchen was impeccable, and her fridge was filled not with any comfort food that you’d been having since Chad, but everything was perfect. You loved to cook, and you’d end up using this kitchen, but you saw it was barely used, you could tell. She probably didn’t cook much.

There was another room, another office, you presumed, though the whole place seemed like an office, too formal and ordered, so organized again, with a small bookshelf, classic books and new ones, never opened. You wondered if she was like you, that couldn’t get to read them. She was a fan of stationery it seemed, and organizers, and post it here and there, color coded. Like everything was there for a reason.

Three pictures, one of her and her family, one with Danny and another one with Tom. He definitely was in love with her.

You explored a bit more. You even feared to be stepping on the floor, fearing you’d ruin it. The place seemed incredibly arranged. You didn’t belong there, but at the same time it was soothing. It was bright, and it helped. As if seeing so much order would help put some order in your own life. The place felt like it was cleaning your mind.

You headed upstairs to the bedroom, and a big bed welcomed you, with a perfect white duvet and plush pillows. You, excitedly ran and jumped to lay down on it.

This was just what you needed.

However, you’d noticed that even though she’d told you you lived with Danny, there was no sight of anyone else living here. It didn’t feel like a couple’s place. It felt… Lonely. There was no sign of someone else who lived there. No home.

But her bed was comfortable. And you were so, so tired. And then again… the bed was so, so comfy. Besides if the math was right, it was 2am back at home, so a nap wouldn’t be so bad. You stared at the ceiling, waiting for an answer. This was it. No, whatever doubt you'd had before, it was erased. This was your chance, sure it was completely crazy, but this… You needed to escape, and you were in a nice place, in Kensington, London. Not in boring Oregon anymore. What was Sophia doing? Was she going through the big mess you were going through?

She probably didn’t feel small. But you decided this was no time to feel small. Though, you were tired, this was no time to pity yourself. So you took a shower, put in some nice clothes and decided to enjoy the day. You were away, you didn’t have to feel sorry for yourself. You’d have time for that later, you were in London, you didn’t need to cry on the other side of the world. You’d done enough crying already. Over a guy named Chad.

You needed to explore London, for God’s sake, you were in Notting Hill, you were no Julia Roberts but who was to say you wouldn’t find your Hugh Grant?

You were sure to bring the keys and made sure to walk out over the exit that was not inside the bookshop. You didn’t want to face Tom. But when you’d walked out, you’d seen him, not as cheerful as the first time you’d seen him. He was pinching the bridge of his nose, and running a hand through his face. He did look out when he’d seen you, you decided, once again, to ignore him. Even though you were sure he had tried to reach for you. But no, you ignored him.

And you would keep ignoring him, this was not time to deal with a british man who was not Hugh Grant.

Timmy fic (Phonecall Tom has)

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kooktaebear · 3 years

Text

If Only I Knew

Status: ONGOING (this is my first AU AHHH I’m excited to write the next couple of parts, but I hope this story gets a lot of love :~>)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Summary: Y/N abruptly moved to Seoul after spending 21 years living alone in her hometown, Busan after the death of her parents. She now discovers through her best friends that drama can be a lot to handle, but as she starts to meet new people, she discovers that she had completely forgotten an important part of her past.

Warnings: mention of guns, blood and violence,

Genre: angst, WHOLE LOT OF FLUFF, slow burn

Word Count: 3.2k

Part One:

I step out of the bus and a gust of cold wind hits my face as I board the train. Why did I think of not wearing enough layers in the middle of winter? I take my seat and look out the window to see the number of people who are about to board the train. I grab my phone and start listening to ILYSB. I like LANY, their music is perfect for travel.

I know this isn't such an interesting event in my life since I know that many other people have flown to see Seoul, capital of Korea but hey, give me a break. I’m finally going to meet my best friends after living alone for 4 years. This is what pays to be travelling, a provincial girl like me? I doubt I would ever survive the city life.

As a 2 hours pass, I wake up to hear the advisory that I’m about to reach Seoul.

I look out the window, close my eyes, and whisper.

"Mom, Dad, I made it to Seoul."

I lost both my parents during a hostage that happened in our own home. My mom happened to answer the door and was shot first. The culprit saw me and asked me to go get my dad. At first I was confused, but it so happened that there was an issue with the family business and this guy was after the money. I was 13 at that time but I still couldn't figure out why something like this had to happen to our family. However, as soon as my dad had agreed to the terms of the killer, he pointed his gun at me and pulled the trigger. I closed my eyes to prepare myself for the pain that comes next but instead, I felt warm liquid on my hands and felt something heavy fall on me, it was my dad. I screamed at the sight of both my parents suddenly vanishing from this world, a sudden pain struck my chest and I couldn't breathe. I fall to the ground slowly losing my vision as I see the blue and red lights of police cars approaching my house.

"Miss? Are you okay miss?" the person right next to me calls my attention and brings me back to reality, "Oh, yes I'm fine. Have we arrived?" I look around to see almost everyone out of the train. "Would you need any help getting off? Are you new to the city?" the lady asks me. I shake my head and give her a smile as I head down the aisle to the exit.

I follow the rest of the passengers to exit the station as I turn my phone on to contact Jennie and Lisa, my two best friends. Their parents had offered to get us three an apartment we could all share just so that they could both keep me company. Lisa and Jennie aren't sisters if you were wondering, they just had agreed to live under one roof with me and I'm eternally grateful for that. Not to mention they’re idol trainees.

"Y/N?" I turn my head to see Lisa's straight black hair, "Lisa!!!" We both jump around and giggle, "Wait but where's Jennie?" "Oh, she's getting us another cab because your arrival got delayed." She helps grab my luggage and we both start catching up with each other, as if we’ve never spoken in weeks. This was the first time I had ever seen both Lisa and Jennie in person, all our moms were best friends when they were younger too but since we couldn't visit them often, we met and talked through video calls.

"Well if it isn't our beautiful foreign friend Y/N." I turn around and meet Jennie’s eyes, "JENNIE!!!" I run to hug her and Lisa joins in and I finally don't feel alone anymore. "Girls, the cab is waiting outside, we better hurry." On our way to our new apartment we were all catching up with each other as if we really didn't talk as much already. "Oh hey, Y/N you have to make sure that you're ready to go to school by 7am okay?" Jennie cheerfully said. I was so confused, school started at 8am so why would I have to be ready an hour before school when our place was literally like 10 minutes away. "Wait why do we have to be ready an hour before school? I know our place is like 15 minutes away from school. It's not like you guys take that long to fix yourselves up right?" Lisa and Jennie smiled at me suspiciously, "Well....Y/N you know, you may not know everything about us yet..." "What's there not to know? I've known you guys since the moment I was able to talk." Lisa elbowed me softly, "We’ve got new friends! Like actual men type of friends." My eyes opened wide despite the tiredness I've been experiencing,

How could these two end up befriending guys and just suddenly "forgetting" to tell me about it when they know and are fully aware that we all don’t normally interact with the opposite gender?

"Fine, I'll be ready by 7am on Monday." I say as I roll my eyes, "YAYYY I'M SO EXCITEDDD!!!" both of them scream.

Ugh, 30 minutes have just passed since I arrived in Seoul and I'm already experiencing stress.

As soon as we got off the cab, both my friends had rushed to bring down all my belongings so that I could finally take a look at the place we rented out. Jennie reaches her hand out to me and in her palm, my key to our place. "Hey, have you guys figured out how we'll be getting to school on Monday?" Jennie giggles, "Y/N, you’re lucky we attend the same school. But the guys will pick us up! Plus..they promised to bring Jungkook." Jennie winks at me and flashes me her brightest smile.

Jungkook? I know I've heard that name somewhere, but I just can't remember where.

"We're here!!" The elevator door opens, "Apartment 735" I mutter to myself. I walk along the brightly lit corridor. "732....733...734..." I continue counting, "735!!" The girls rush to my side, "Y/N, this is your first time in our apartment, so you'll have the honor of opening the door with your key" Lisa says with a smile. I reach out for my keys, close my eyes and take a deep breath before turning the key to unlock the door. I hear the light switch turn on and I open my eyes. The apartment was beautiful. I walk in to see the kitchen, it has a small island where I could serve meals to my friends. I honestly enjoy cooking to relieve myself from whatever stresses me out, whether it be school, people or something about football. I’ve loved sports for as long as I can remember but it gets frustrating since I could be quite competitive.

I walked into the next room and I saw our living room, there was a large L-shaped sofa sitting in front of a huge television. In between the sofa and TV, I saw a small wooden table that is most probably multipurpose as being both a study desk and a place to put our snacks when we binge on shows during our free days. Beside the sofa I see a balcony that showcases a beautiful scenery of the city. I walk out and feel the cold breeze on my cheeks, I look up to the sky and I see that the sky had a welcoming gift for me as well. The stars greeted me as they shined brightly upon the night sky and I just can't help but admire the night sky. To my right, I see a bean bag that fits 2 people. I plop down to the bean bag and stargaze for a while.

Mom? Dad? I know you can hear me, I promise I'll make you proud, I'll succeed here in Seoul and become a great doctor.

"Y/N?" I snap back to reality and see Jennie’s head appear, "You haven't even seen your room yet! Come onnnnn!!" I stand back up and follow the girls in another small hallway, there I see 3 doors. "So basically, it's not that we don't want you to have your own room but we wanted one room to be our sort of walk-in closet because I mean who has not dreamed of having one?" I open the first door I see and the place is indeed full of clothes. There were 3 closets in the room, each of the closet doors have our first name initials on it to indicate who owns which closet. I laugh at my best friends, we all enjoy watching all those Barbie movies where they have spectacular closets and I guess you can say that this is the closest we can get to our childhood dreams.

I walk out of the room and take a few steps into the hallway. Lisa rushes to get past me and hold the doorknob, "Okay Y/N, this room is a little different. I know it's not really our style whatsoever but we created a study room." I scrunch my eyebrows, "A study room? Really now? For all of us or for me?" Lisa tucks a stray hair into her ear, "Well, more for you than for us since we know how hard you work and how much more you'll be working to get into med school. But it's a double purpose for a practice room for us too!" I take a step back to look at both my best friends and their grinning faces,

What did I do to deserve these two psychos in my life?

I call them in for a group hug, "You guys, I know you want to make me feel like there's nothing missing anymore in my life and I love you guys for that. I hope you all still remember I'm not a robot though and even if I'll be working hard to get into med school, I'll still be around to party and experience what any normal teenager should be experiencing." I hear Jennie sniffling at my right, "Aw Jen" I rub her back soothingly, "We know that Y/N, we just want the best for you too. We'll always be here rooting for you any time." We all take a step back, "Okay!" Lisa says, "Guys, it's our first night in our own apartment and we're already crying." Everybody laughs, "So I guess this last room is our room?" "It sure is." Jennie opens the door and I see three twin beds side by side. Just like our "walk-in closet" our first name initials are hanging above our head, brightly lit to recognize who owns which bed. I see my initial on top of the bed that lies in between both Lisa and Jennie's.

I drop my luggage off at our closet area and plop back down into the bean bag on the balcony. I take a deep breath in and close my eyes.

This is the start of my new life.

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"Take my hands now, you are the cause of my euphoria"

I woke up to the sound of Euphoria, my favorite song in the whole wide-

"WHEN I’M WITH YOU I'M IN UTOPIA"

And of course, the voices of my two best friends singing their hearts out and getting the lyrics messed up.

"Y/N!!! Come on!! It's your first day of school. Did you forget about our breakfast plan?"

Right. Their so-called "breakfast plan" before school. I stand up from my bed and stretch a little before I start making my bed. I stop by the closet first and pick my outfit for today, I pick out a tied crop top, white sneakers, and jeans. I grab my bathrobe and head to the bathroom. I step into the shower and play some music that would help wake me up and get ready for the day. As I continue to wash my hair, I hear a knock on my door,

"Y/N! Are you done?!!"

I roll my eyes. Jeez, they finally got themselves guy friends and now they're going crazy about finishing on time. I wrap a towel around my head to dry my hair. I head back to our dressing room and open my luggage. As I look for my blow dryer and straightener, Lisa barges into the room,

"Y/N Y/L/N, you seem to be too relaxed this morning. You have 30 minutes left to get ready and if you're not ready by then I'm going to drag you to the car." "Don't worry Jen, I'll be done on time. Now can you please stop bothering me so that I can start dressing up?"

I quickly blow dry my hair and put it up in a messy bun. With the remaining time left, this is the best I can do to tame my natural curls. I look at myself in the mirror and check to see if something is missing. I reach out to get my makeup bag and I put on a little blush and add a little lip tint. I search through my accessory bag and look for my small stud earrings. I get my glasses from the table and look at myself in the mirror once more. I'm ready for my first day of school. I leave the dressing room and meet my best friends in our kitchen.

"Oh my goodness Y/N, let's go! We're already 5 minutes late." I grab the schoolbag I prepared last night before heading to bed and leave the apartment. We head to the basement by elevator since Lisa got her license just recently. "Wait Lisa, if you had your license already by the time you picked me up, why did you guys use a taxi to pick me up?" "Oh, uh..I was too lazy to drive that late at night so I just got us a taxi." She starts the car and we head to the exit.

It was my first time ever seeing Seoul in the morning light, the sun hit the skyscrapers so beautifully that it was as if the city was welcoming me as their new citizen. Numerous cars were already out by the time we hit the road because of the rush hour most of them were experiencing. Our school, Seoul National University was just 10 minutes away, our apartment was located a couple blocks away As I was looking out the window, I saw some sort of diner come into view. It looked huge for my definition of a diner since I always saw diners as small joints made for meals, but this diner was different. As Lisa pulled up in the parking area I could see a little bit of the inside, students like us were dining in there as well and there seemed to be a game room on the other side of the dining area. It's around mid-February so the breeze was still cool, Busan was a little warmer during the winter so I had to find a way to adjust to the cooler weather in the city. As my friends and I make our way to the entrance, I notice three heads that turn our way. As we enter the diner however, the smell of freshly made bread, waffles, and eggs hits me and I feel my mouth water. I've been starving and I couldn't wait to try whatever the diner had been serving.

I see three boys in a booth and I make eye contact with one of them, the weird thing is...I felt butterflies in my tummy. I've seen those eyes somewhere, he feels familiar which is of course impossible because I've never met these people in my entire life.

I've never had any guy friends at all. I've always thought about making my parents proud and everything so I focused on getting good scores on all my tests so that I could get into med school. This is all so new to me...having friends of the opposite species. I mean okay, I've watched rom-coms and movies that revolve around love, seeing your friends being treated the way I see couples act in the movies is something I never thought I would be interacting with boys at this point of my life.

"Y/N? Earth to Y/N!" I snap back to reality as Jennie calls my attention. "This is Jimin, Taehyung and the guy still sitting in the booth is Jungkook." Jungkook? I think I know a Jungkook from back home but it's still pretty hard to remember a lot of things. "Sorry, I'm being rude." Jungkook stood up and walked to me, "Jungkook." He held out a hand for me to shake, "Y/N." I say in reply. As our hands touch, there's a familiar warmth that gives me goosebumps. I quickly try to mask the reddness in my cheeks. We all take a seat in the booth and based on the impression of these boys, they seem like athletes. "Hey Y/N," Jimin says, "You should try their Bacon and Waffles here. They sell out like crazy in the mornings." I take a quick glance on the menu and scan quickly for the meal Jimin was talking about. I raise my hand excitedly to call in the waitress to take our orders, "1 Bacon and Waffles, 2 Pancakes and, 3 orders of the Waffles and Chicken all with Orange Juice on the side." The waitress says, "Thanks." I give her a smile in return.

I glance back at my friends after giving the waitress the menu I was holding, Jungkook and I make direct eye contact, his big brown doe eyes, another flood of goosebumps crawl on my skin as he turns away to talk to Taehyung. Why is it that Jungkook looks at me as if he’s seen me before?

The waitress returns with the orders and I start to take a bite off my first meal of the day.

“So Y/N, how was your first night in the city?” Taehyung asked as he picked a strawberry off one of the pancakes, “I stayed up in the balcony just looking at the city lights, the stars were very bright last night. I couldn’t stay up for so long though, it got really cold.” “Y/N loves gazing at stars, she used to try to make Jen and I see the stars in Busan every time we video called.” Lisa says giggling, Jimin gasps and turns to point at Jungkook while eating his waffle, “Jungkook used to drag us out of our homes just to meet at a park to stargaze!” Jungkook shyly looks away and takes a sip of his juice, “Yah” he finally speaks, “You make me sound like a really weird kid Hyung” I laugh at his statement, “Don’t be too embarrassed Kook, looking at the stars are my favorite past time” He tenses up with the nickname as he looks at me, I realize I just gave this guy a nickname on the first day we met. Shit. “Uh, is it okay that I call you Kook?” He nods in return as a smile crept onto his face.

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thesameasbe4 · 3 years

Text

Tangled Up in Tuscany

Sebastian Stan showing all of us that he’s really just a normal guy with a nice jaw line.

It wasn’t my first time in Tuscany, but the last time had been over ten years ago on a high school trip. I wasn’t expecting it to be quite the same experience this time, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. I stepped into the grand entrance of the hotel, doing my best not to look too out of place amidst the fine room and well dressed people. I had not traveled with the rest of the wedding party out of Atlanta, unlike the rest of them, I had a real job and couldn’t just take off three weeks for a luxurious wedding, so I was the last to arrive by about five days. And in that time I had been bombarded by the photos and messages on the bridal party group text of all the extravagant things they had been doing. Touring old churches, wine tasting, eating at the most elegant restaurants. While I was a tad jealous, I also got the impression that doing these things in the company of the other bridesmaids would perhaps detract from the overall experience. So it was what it was.

The door man walked me to the front desk where I shyly greeted the shrewd desk clerk. “Hi, I should have a reservation under LeBlanc.” I spelled it and his rather illustrious eyebrows lifted. “Tu parle francaise?” The man asked.

I smiled a little and shook my head, “Non, je ne parle pas francais, je parle l’anglais.”

“But it is a French name yes?” He pressed, and I responded in the affirmative. Seeming in better spirits he motioned to a man standing to my left in some kind of negotiation with another clerk. “It seems you two are here for the same event, do you know each other?”

I looked again at the man, he had dark brown hair and a five o’clock shadow covering his strong jaw line. He fit in here, dressed in his well cut European suit and perfectly coiffed hair. Returning my focus to the clerk and straightening my posture, I responded, “Nope, never met him.”

“I think you stole my room,” the gentleman interjected in what I was surprised to hear was an American accent.

I raised an eyebrow in his direction, “Indeed? I have arrived just now, so I don’t know how that can be possible.”

“No look, I think Liz switched the name on the last available room,” he persisted.

“Well I guess you do know the bride then,” I said, noting his casual use of my friend’s name. I replied, “Why would she do that?”

“Look I don’t know, but Joe said there was a room waiting for me here and that was a few days ago.”

I pulled out my phone, planning on giving the bride and groom a call to get this sorted out when the big white numbers on the screen reminded me that it was 3 AM. Sighing, I looked at the clerk, “Are there any more vacant rooms?”

“No madame,” he responded, his voice pinched again like when I first arrived, “that was how we first developed this misunderstanding.”

“I guess that makes sense.” I looked again at the gentleman, “Can you prove you know Liz and Joe?” He reached in to his inside jacket pocket and pulled out his phone. He swiped around till he found what he wanted and handed it to me.

“That was two years ago in Prague, we worked a movie together.” My eye swept the screen, finally making out the face of the man that stood before me in a cluster of several other people dressed in period clothing. “Also, Joe is allergic to shellfish, which he learned while in Hawaii only after eating an entire shrimp and pineapple pizza.” I laughed, anyone who knew Joe had heard that story.

“Well, you can bunk in my room tonight if you are desperate, then we can get this all settled at a decent hour tomorrow.” I wiggled my room card at him.

“I don’t wan’t to impose,” he said, suddenly looking concerned.

“Look, you already have. All I want is a hot shower and a few hours of sleep, and this compromise is now the quickest way to getting that.”

Maintaining eye contact with me he worried his lower lip, “okay, I guess.”

So we made our way to the elevator. “And I do really appreciate it,” he said as the elevator started going up, “I hope I wasn’t too rude, I just always have really bad luck in Italy.”

“Well let’s hope this trip breaks the cycle, cause I don’t know that I will get another shot at a Tuscany vacation.” I said stepping out of the elevator and into the hallway, locating our door by the small pile of bags that were waiting for us.

I handed him the key as I gathered my things. “Um, I think we made a very American mistake,” came a voice from inside the room.”

“Huh?” I said confusedly, groaning as I came to stand next to him. The room only had one bed.

…

A string of profanity ambled out of my mouth as I stripped in the bathroom. I had insisted that I didn’t need to be put up in such a nice hotel, especially if Liz was paying for me, but no, she wanted me to be with the rest of the wedding party, she wanted me to get along with her fancy Hollywood friends. So here I was in a swanky ass hotel with a strange man that I had, in my fatigue and delirium, decided to trust.

After several minutes of letting the hot water loosen my back and shoulders I climbed out of the shower and slipped into a pair of leggings and a tank top. “It’s all yours,” I said as I traipsed past the much too small bed on which the stranger was lounging.

“Hey, whats your name?” He asked and I stopped, realizing I hadn’t even thought to ask him his God damned name.

“Michelle,” I said, holding my hand out to him. He grasped it firmly and shook.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Sebastian.”

I fell into a fitful rest quickly after laying down and I didn’t wake up till the sun began to enter the room through the gorgeous doors that let out onto the little balcony. I took a deep breath, finally taking in the fact that I was in Tuscany, for a glamorous wedding, and I didn’t have to pay for any of it. Then I flexed my arms, realizing too late that what I had thought was a pillow last night was actually the hulking form of a man. Shit what did he say his name was? Sebastian. I pulled my arm away from him quickly but the damage was done.

“Morning,” he groaned, sitting up. I replied with a wave of my hand, too embarrassed to speak, hiding my head back in the sheets. I felt the mattress move as he slid off the edge and bustled around the room and then let himself out. Now that the coast was clear I sat up and rubbed my eyes, forcing myself to wake up. I pulled my hair up into a quick bun then looked around me for my phone. I had sent Liz a string of panicked texts last night about the room situation that she hadn’t replied to till this morning.

Sorry about the confusion. No, Sebastian isn’t a serial killer. Welcome to Tuscany! Meet us in the lobby at 10.

I glanced at the time. It was barely seven. I cursed jet lag as I marched into the bathroom to brush my teeth. I heard the door open while I was in the bathroom and stuck my head out.

Sebastian had returned with a porter, who placed a matching pair of brown leather suitcases in the closet (I guess all of Sebastian’s luggage hadn’t made it here last night) and then returned wheeling in a cart full of food. My nose perked at the smell of coffee and I hoped he was planning on sharing.

“So Liz finally confirmed that you aren’t a serial killer,” I said, leaning against a wall.

He smiled at me, “Oh, good. Well I just spoke to Joe, he told me the same about you.” I nodded, smiling now. “I got a little worried last night when you had me in a death grip,” he said, winking at me.

I cleared my throat and looked at the ceiling, “yea I’m a hard sleeper, I cannot account for the actions of my subconscious.” My gaze drifted to the cart with the heavenly smells of coffee wafting from it.

“Compliments of the bride and groom, for the mix up, I think we got in the way of some kind of argument they were having,” Sebastian said, handing me a white mug with cappuccino foam peaking over the brim.

…

It was two days before the wedding and I was beginning to think I should have delayed even longer. Liz had sent me instructions for both Seb and I to “dress casual” for the day which would be mostly wandering town. What I forgot was that casual meant something very different to a common working woman like myself than to the other rich Hollywood people I had to deal with on this trip. After greeting my friend finally and listening to her reassure me that I was not under dressed in my plain dark wash jeans and chunky sweater, I skulked to the back of the group taking in the dozen or so perfectly sculpted bodies adorned with designer heels, leisure jackets and other decidedly not casual ensembles. I had not seen my roommate come down to the lobby but as we headed out I noticed that he was wearing a very modest ensemble of black jeans, polished shoes and a blue denim jacket over a plain green shirt. I tipped my hat to him silently, either he was a normal like me or he was down to earth, either way I was glad to have gotten stuck with him rather than any of the others.

In the town of Sienna I lagged back, finding the group too noisy and attention grabbing. One of the tall skinny women in our party turned and waved at me, beckoning me closer. I took a few long strides to catch up with them.

“Your Liz’s friend that came in last night right?” She asked.

“Yep,” I replied.

“OMG, so your sharing a room with Sebastian then!”

Raising my eyebrows I replied again, “yep.”

“Well, whats he like?”

“Um, I don’t really know, I slept most of the time we were together, I assume he did too,” I offered in a confused tone. Who was this guy?

“But isn’t he so hot?” The woman asked.

“Well I was mostly concerned that he was a murderer when I first met him, I mean, he wasn’t happy and then I wasn’t actually sure he actually was with the wedding party.”

“But you knew who he was, so what did it matter if he was in the wedding party?”

Utterly confused I said, “Wait, who is he? Why should I know him?”

The woman giggled, “Sebastian Stan? He’s an actor in the Avengers franchise? He’s got a huge fan base and is notoriously private.

Okay so I didn’t really know much about those films but I was intrigued now and despite my greatest efforts to pay him no more mind than I had been, I noticed him more the rest of the day. Many of the women in our group would find reasons to stand next to him, they would grab his arm and laugh, or touch his chest. Interestingly, as the afternoon slipped into evening, he seemed to grow visibly agitated with all of the attention. By dinner time he looked like he was barely holding his polite facade together.

We were scheduled to all eat together at a very nice restaurant, however there was some conversation amongst Liz and Joe and our guides and they made a last minute call to eat separately. I was confused by this, the whole trip having felt micro managed up to this point, but I was glad to get away from the group that I felt so apart from and I took off rather than wait around for an explanation. There was a lovely outdoor patio bar down the street from where we were staying, so I leisurely walked that way.

The air was comfortably cool and I tilted my head back to breathe in the smells of the sleepy town as I sipped my wine. This was the kind of night I would have loved to enjoy with Lizzy, but that was before the days when she was famous.

“You must be American,” a voice behind me said. I turned to see two young Italian men standing behind me. As if that was an invitation to join me, they moved to sit in the vacant chairs on either side of me. “So what are you doing in our town?” One of them asked me in a thick accent and placed a hand on my knee, I shivered at how freely he touched me. I crossed my legs, shrugging his hand off of me. They both looked at ease and there were other people around us so it seemed generally safe, but I didn’t feel like doing this tonight. I slid my chair back, stood and walked to the far side of the bar, out of their line of vision. If they followed me I knew I would just have to leave so I steadied myself for that possibility.

It seemed at first like they had lost interest, but about ten minutes later I heard their laughter moving in my direction. But before I decided how to react I felt a warm hand settle on my lower back. “Hey, don’t freak out, It’s just me.” I looked up at the voice speaking into my ear and saw the grey blue eyes of my roommate. “There are two guys that have been staring at you from across the room, I wanted to make sure you knew that.” I nodded at him in thanks. But the men’s voices drew closer still so I turned to face Sebastian.

“Flirt with me,” I said to him.

“What?”

“They have already been bothering me,” I replied trying to keep my eyes on Sebastian and not give the men any reason to come closer. He nodded and moved closer to me so that we were sharing the same space. He kept his hand on my back and the other one combed through my hair. He touched his forehead to mine and laughed. After a second he drew away just enough to look up, scanning the bar for the two men.

I’m gonna kiss you okay?” He said. I gulped and nodded, after I had agreed, he drew my face up to his and very gently touched his lips to mine, leaving them there for a few seconds then breaking away from me. “They’re leaving,” he said and I sighed, though I honestly wasn’t sure if it was in relief or in reaction to the kiss.

…

I sat against the headboard of the bed, my hair drying from the shower and I flipped through the Italian television channels, trying to ignore how strangely domestic it felt to be sharing a hotel room with this person. A man who was apparently a very well known movie star who had recently helped me out of a sticky situation by kissing me. I held a cup of tea in my hands. I was bringing it to my lips when Sebastian emerged from the bathroom a napkin of a towel wrapped around his waist. My hands trembled just enough at the sight of his sculpted torso to spill hot tea all over my lap.

“Fuck,” I said as I stood, pulling the now damp fabric of my leggings away from my skin.

“You okay?” He asked, looking up from rummaging in his bag.

“I’m fine,” I shot back at him, “just put some goddamn pants on,” I muttered. He laughed and I squeezed my eyes shut, “I guess he had heard that,” I thought to myself. He straightened with a wad of clothes triumphantly held aloft then retreated to the bathroom again to change.

“By the way,” I said when he finally came back out, “thanks for the assist there in the bar.”

He winked at me, “Well I’m sure you’d do the same for me,” he said.

“But I haven’t,” I replied, “I have been watching women throw themselves at you all day and I did nothing to save you, “so really, what you did was an unselfish act.”

He walked to his side of the mattress that never felt so small and threw himself down, making the whole frame shake. “Yea, well none of them looked as hostile as those two men.” He shifted so that he was laying on his back distractedly watching the Italian soap opera that I had found. Soon he was breathing steadily with just a very light snore. I smiled and looked down at him. He really was very nice looking. He had well defined features, long eyelashes and full lips. I caught myself biting one of my own lips and rolled my eyes. Deciding that looking at him like this was creepy I switched the tv off and turned the light off, easing down into the sheets.

I was just on the verge of unconsciousness when I felt Sebastian’s arm wrap around my stomach and pull me into him. His body was relaxed but still solid. I hadn’t realized how big he was. I thought for a moment that I should release myself, that it was the right thing to do, but he wouldn’t know I was awake. Maybe I shouldn’t disturb him? He shifted again this time nuzzling his scratchy chin into the back of my neck, and if I wasn’t mistaken, his lips were pressed up against the back of my ear. Now throughly enjoying his contact I relaxed into him, laying my arm on top of his.

…

Sebastian’s alarm went off at seven the next morning, the day before the ceremony being filled with activities. I groaned at the shrill sound and was startled to realize my voice was muffled by something I was laying on. I moved my head around, trying to get my bearings without opening my eyes yet. It couldn’t be a pillow, it smelled too good and was too solid.

“Morning,” the thing under me said. I stiffened. Apparently I had managed to fully lay the length of my body on top of Sebastian in the course of the night. He was still on his back and his hands were resting on my bottom, my head was nestled into the crook of his neck and my hands were splayed over his chest. Instead of being embarrassed, I found that I really was just comfortable.

“Do we really have to get up?” I whined into his chest.

I felt his rumbling laugh, “Well I don’t really wanna face the wrath of Lizzy if we don’t show up on time,” he said.

“I thought you were my protector?” I said. He patted my bottom a few times and tried to shift me off of him but I wouldn’t budge.

“I’ll bring you up a cappuccino if you let me get up,” he said. With one more groan fit for the stage I let him roll out from under me. He stood over me for a second and I looked up at him with a mock hurt look on my face. And then before I had time to think, he leaned over me, one hand on either side of me and gently brought his lips to mine.

It was brief but lovely.

“I’ll be back,” he whispered in my ear before turning and leaving the room.

Now fully awake I wandered about the room, unsure of what to do with myself. I pulled out of my suitcase the outfit I was planning on wearing today. The “rehearsal dinner” was more of a rehearsal excursion to the countryside complete with a quartet to play classical Italian music and a wait staff serving Prosecco all day. Lizzy had said to wear “cocktail casual” but I had no idea what the hell that meant. I had settled on a dark burgundy romper. The neckline was a low v and the straps criss-crossed in the back. I laid it out on the bed and was still assessing it when Sebastian returned, a tray of coffee in his hands. Intoxicated by the smell I lifted one of the steaming cups off of the tray and retreated to the small balcony. The morning was cool and the view overlooked the mediterranean rooftops of the little town. I breathed deeply the crisp air and the fragrant coffee.

Sensing his presence behind me I spoke up, “I never would have imagined that visiting a place this beautiful would be such a headache.”

He came to stand next to me. Leaning forward so that his arms rested on the edge of the balcony, the entire side of his body made contact with mine. The heat radiating from him was soothing.

“It is beautiful here,” he said, looking at me, not the view. “Why is this trip so hard for you?”

I sighed, “I guess it’s not. I’m just being dramatic. I knew Liz way before she was famous. She and I had always talked about coming to Italy, about hiking and living close to nature. And this- this trip just shows how we have changed, thats all,” I said giving up. “And I hate all of her new friends.”

Sebastian laughed, “Well I’m gland that I’m Joe’s friend then.” I turned my head to look at him and he winked. Then he straightened up and pulled me into him, “is this okay?” He asked into my ear. I nodded silently, my stomach churning. “Well I think all her friends are jealous of you,” he continued to whisper in my ear, “know why?” I shook my head smiling a little as his words tickled my ear, “because they all want the natural grace and beauty that you have.”

I moved to face him, his large muscled body trapping me against the balcony rail. I wrapped my arms around his neck, my fingers tangling in his hair. He lowered his mouth to my neck as he pulled me closer to him. “Do you promise to come save me today if all those women don’t leave me alone?” He asked into my neck.

I squirmed at the sensation of his breath on me. “Of course Boo,” I said, patting his bottom in a playfully condescending voice.

He raised an eyebrow, “I think I like being your Boo,” he said moving from my neck to my lips, biting my lower lip playfully.

“Yea?” I replied.

“Mmmh,” was all he said.

“Then as my Boo would you please explain to me what the hell ‘cocktail casual’ means?”

…

After a bit of debate, Sebastian had convinced me that my choice of attire was perfect and he just so happened to have a shirt that matched my outfit, so we arrived in the lobby in plenty of time to meet the rest of the group. Unsurprisingly, I did stand out, most of the women wearing very short dresses and tottering on stilettos, however, when I considered that the alternative was having to wear a short skirt and heels all day, I decided I was happy with my ensemble.

We were ushered into a small bus that would drive us out into the countryside. The inside was nice, but Italians have a very different sense of space than Americans, as demonstrated by the very small seats. Because I had dressed for comfort, I was better able to maneuver my way to the back seat, so I found myself wedged into the very back corner of the van seated next to one of the men in the party who was a talent manager or something and wouldn’t shut up about all the famous people he worked with.

On top of that Sebastian was two rows in front of me, surrounded by needy looking women who were sitting too close to him and thrusting their scantily covered chests towards him.

Finally the bus stopped at a sprawling villa on the side of a mountain. I was antsy to get out both because of the view and because I was quite nauseous after all of the switchbacks we took to get up here.

The day was average, there were some speeches, a few games, lunch, and then drinks. During all of this I had noticed several footpaths that led into the surrounding countryside. As the group broke up into social clusters I slipped away, making a b-line towards a path that I was hoping would take me along the crest of the mountain to reveal more lovely views.

“Wait Michelle!” A voice called from behind me. I turned to see Sebastian scampering behind me, his jacket discarded and a few buttons undone on his shirt. Catching up to me he stopped, “may I join you?”

We followed the overgrown trail for several minutes, finally the brush gave way to a beautiful bald overlooking a valley that reflected gold and red in the low afternoon sun. I turned to Sebastian and found him looking at me. “What?” I asked.

“I want to kiss you,” he said simply. So I closed the gap between us and my lips met his hungrily. We pressed against each other desperately like we couldn’t get close enough to each other. Our breathing grew heavy and I got the sense that we were both wearing too many clothes, so with all my strength I pulled away from him. He let out a little whine and showed me his puppy dog eyes.

“I think we need to cool off a bit,” I said shakily. “If I take this thing off now then it’s not going back on,” I said gesturing to my romper. Sebastian nodded in defeat and took my hand as we walked back to the group.

…

As the afternoon turned to evening other guests of the the bride and groom arrived and the sweetness of the afternoon faded as my world went on repeat. I watched one woman after another try her luck with the dashing Sebastian Stan while I kept to myself, drinking alone. I wasn’t upset at Sebastian, I wasn’t really sure what to do with our short dalliance, was it just born out of convenience? Is it just something to pass the time on this miserable trip? No, what bothered me was watching the entitlement in the way these women acted. They knew they were beautiful or young or well connected and so they approached with confidence, but had very little to contribute to the conversation, literally “what you see is what you get.”

“Ah,” came a voice from over my shoulder, “you are the friend from Louisiana right? The one who Lizzy grew up with?” I turned to see a nice looking young man in a dark suit standing behind me.

“Who’s asking?” I said.

“Hi, I’m Dan, I’m a friend of Lizzy from LA.” He held out his hand, I took it, and in stepping closer I also noticed the alcohol on his breath and the slight waver in his voice. It had been a while since he was sober.

“Nice to meet you, Dan,” I said. He leaned into me slightly, as if he couldn’t keep his feet under him.

“Hey, do you wanna dance? Lizzy said you are a good da-dancer?” He said, hiccuping.

“Maybe in a bit, big guy,” I said, motioning to a waiter for a bottle of water.

“No, you look like you are here for- for a good time. Lets take this back to- back to my place.” He was too drunk to be intimidating but he was quite tall and I found it difficult to shift his weight away from me. Indeed he was very close to toppling over and taking me with him when suddenly his weight was no longer draped over me. Getting my bearings I looked behind me to see Sebastian helping, if a little roughly, to get Dan into a chair.

I didn’t think much of it, but I was surprised Sebastian had gotten to me so quickly. When some other guys came over to take care of the very sloppy and probably soon to be puking Dan, I turned my attention to Seb. He had moved to stand next to me and wound his arm around my waist protectively. “Thanks for the assist,” I said lightly. To my surprise, Sebastian didn’t think it was funny.

“Why don’t those kind of guys ever know when to stop?” He growled, his hand still firmly at my waist.

I turned to face him. “Hey, I appreciate the Feminist outrage, but I was okay, I didn’t feel intimidated by him like the guys in the bar yesterday.” I put a hand on his chest, waiting for him to slow his breathing. Finally he looked down at me.

“I think I was just jealous of your attention,” he said sheepishly.

“Well why the hell didn’t you come over here sooner, I’ve had to watch women fawn over you all evening,” I said with a little pout.

“But I thought you were gonna come save me.”

“I don’t compete with other women!” I said in a whispered yell, turning my back to him. I avoided him, embarrassed and feeling a little too tender after such a long day. Gently he twisted me back to face him. I didn’t resist, I did want to be with him here, but I couldn’t look him in the eye. Carefully, and slowly he tilted my head up till I held his gaze, then he brushed his lips against mine, holding them there just long enough for chills to run down my body and my breathing to quicken before pulling away. I moaned in frustration.

“You aren’t competing with anyone.” With that taste of drama that actors tend to have naturally, he pulled me into the light, closer to the music, and we danced. It was sensuous and romantic. We stayed close together, his nose buried in the side of my neck, my head laying on his chest as we moved in a slow circle. His hands would stray low sometimes, but I would pull them back up so they rested on my hips, and he would chuckle each time.

As the event wrapped up, we walked back to the vehicles together. And as if we had passed some invisible test, everyone left us alone, letting us sit together and talking around us.

Back at the hotel I paused to chat with Liz while Sebastian helped Joe out with something for the ceremony the next day. “OMG, I knew you two would be good together!” Liz gushed.

“Wait, did you do the room thing on purpose?” I asked.

She looked up at the ceiling, “I will not reveal my tricks, but just know that if you two are still together in a year I am so claiming that I set you up.” I rolled my eyes.

I made my way back to our room but was stopped by one of the pretty blonde women in the wedding party. “You are Lizzie’s friend from back home right?” She asked in a valley girl accent I thought had to be a joke. Thinking she had some scheme about the wedding tomorrow, I told her that, yes, I was her childhood friend. “Then what the hell do you think you are doing flirting with someone like Sebastian Stan?” She demanded, serious outrage in her face. I was startled, not expecting this little outburst.

I looked her over again, her makeup was looking a little fuzzy and I could smell vodka on her breath as she teetered on stilettos and pulled her dress down each time it slipped a little too high up her thighs. Before I could respond she continued, “I mean, look at you. You are at least a size ten, no make up, you are wearing flats for Christ sakes.” She gasped like it was the end of the world. “You have no idea the women who are interested in him. Models, actresses, I heard one of the Kardashians even made a pass at him. This is the big leagues little girl. You need to stay in your lane.” In parting she gave me a little push that I thought was more likely to have her on the floor than me.

I laughed uncomfortably as I made it back to the room. Sebastian was there, sprawled on the bed, his torso bare, a pair of navy joggers seated low on his waist. He looked like a snack. And all of a sudden I could only hear the words of that woman. I must have stood there too long cause Seb spoke up. “What did Liz do? Did she change something at the last minute? You look really distracted.”

“Oh,” I said, “Nothing, she didn’t change anything.” I turned away from him and reached behind my back to undo the top of my romper. Sebastian’s hands grasped mine and put them to my sides as he undid the ties, his fingers lingering on my skin. “Sebastian is this just for tonight?” I asked, biting my lip after the words left my mouth.

“Uh, I guess it can be, why?” He replied, his tone measured. I continued to stand with my back to him, needing the space to say this.

“I- I just don’t know how this would work with you being so mobile. I don’t want you to feel like this has to go beyond this trip.” I cut myself off, feeling like I was whining.

“Actually, I am kinda interested in making this work for a longer time. Where are you from? Louisiana? The long distance thing might be a challenge but I’d like to give it a go.” I gulped loudly, my arms and legs felt weak.

“Are- are you sure?” I pressed, feeling like I was in a dream.

“Have I overstepped?” He responded with a concerned look on his face. I shook my head fiercely.

“No, but why me? All those women who are prettier than me, they get the world you come from, you have so many options.”

I had moved away from him now, feeling exposed as I spoke, but he closed the gap between us. Pulling me into him, he gripped me tightly, protectively.

“I don’t want anyone else. You are intelligent, confident, beautiful. No one else has those things.”

I sank into him and felt a sob escape from my lips. A hand grasped the back of my head and pulled me in tight to his chest. I shook a bit with a few more sobs but he was there with me. When I had calmed down I reached up and kissed him on the jaw.

Stepping away from me, he pulled a shirt on and I made a disappointed noise. Laughing he said, “Why don’t you change into something more comfortable, and we can go to the bar and make people jealous.” Rolling my eyes, I smiled.

…

As we approached the bar Sebastian grasped my hand and intertwined our fingers. There was a small group from the wedding party that was gathered at one end of the bar. One of the guys called us over so we joined them, greeting everyone in the group. There was one available seat so I took it, Sebastian stood behind me and his hands lingered on my waist and hips. They were meeting to discuss a few last minute requests of the bride and groom, so I listened as attentively as I could with Sebastian’s warm breath tickling the back of my neck. The skinny woman who had trapped me in the hall earlier was staring daggers into us, but I just looked past her to the conversation happening.

After a few more minutes the conversation broke up. I noticed a few men pat Seb on the back as they left, our friend the skinny woman tottered off in a huff. I felt Sebastian shake a little as he chuckled. “That was more fun than I was expecting,” he said.

“Yea whatever, can we pleas go back to the room? It’s time for you to take your shirt off again.”

…

When we got to the room we both stripped to our underwear. We tumbled into the bed together, the playfulness of moments before leaving us quickly as we both let the exhaustion of the day settle in. Instead, we nestled into each other comfortable just to be with one another. I was laying on my back, Seb’s head resting on my chest. He clung to me, arms and legs wrapped tightly around me and thats when I realized we might actually have as shot.

…

It had been a month since the wedding. I sat nervously in the airport gripping my phone and my eyes glued to the arrivals screen above me. Finally I saw the word “arrived” appear in green next to his flight and soon after my phone pinged and it was a text from him saying he was on his way to baggage claim.

And then there he was.

In a tight t-shirt and joggers, his long legs brought him to me in a few quick strides. I brought him in close to me and squeezed him tight. “It’s been too long,” he said.

#sebastian sebastian stan sebastianstan fanfic imagine bucky

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