the greatest tragedy of my existence is that i didn’t make it to italy before i developed this hazelnut allergy

the greatest joy of my existence, however, is that There’s Always Pistachio

Something Sweet

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: the story of your relationship … as told through gelato (in honor of Charles opening an ice cream shop)

The warm spring sun beats down on your face as you stroll along the winding streets of Monaco, gelato in hand. You savor each sweet bite, the rich hazelnutty flavor melting across your tongue.

This is bliss.

You just moved here to attend university and every day feels like a dream come true exploring your new home principality.

The picturesque buildings with their sun-baked stucco walls and colorful tiled roofs line the narrow alleyways. Locals bustle about, chatting rapidly in French as scooters whiz by. The air carries a tang of salt from the glittering Mediterranean just beyond the palace ramparts.

You could get used to this.

Suddenly, a body careens around the corner, slamming right into you. You stumble backward as the gelato goes flying, splattering across the quaint cobblestones in a sticky mess.

“Oh mon dieu, I’m so sorry! Are you alright?” A frantic voice rings out as a pair of strong hands steady you before you can topple over completely.

You look up, slightly dazed, into a pair of warm green eyes filled with concern. The man is clad in athletic shorts and a snug t-shirt, damp with sweat from an obvious run. Tousled chestnut hair flops across his forehead in an effortlessly tousled way.

He’s … incredibly handsome.

Like, stupid levels of handsome.

“I’m fine, really,” you stammer out, feeling your cheeks flush as his hands linger almost ... protectively on your arms. “Just clumsy me dropping my gelato.”

He grimaces, following your gaze to the melting puddle. “I’m such an idiot, let me replace that for you.” His face is the picture of remorse as he gently releases his grip.

You wave him off with an awkward chuckle. “Seriously, it’s not a big deal ...”

But he’s already shaking his head adamantly. “No, no I insist. That looked delicious and it’s entirely my fault.” He shoots you a lopsided grin that makes your heart skip a beat. “I know this amazing little place that makes the best gelato in Monaco. My treat to make up for barreling into you like that.”

You can’t help but be charmed by his earnestness as you nod slowly in acceptance. “Well, when you put it like that ...”

“Perfect!” He beams at you, that bright smile crinkling the corners of his eyes in the most delightful way. “I’m Charles, by the way.”

You introduce yourself as well as Charles begins leading you deeper into the winding backstreets, clearly knowing exactly where he’s going. You can’t help stealing sidelong glances at him as you walk, admiring the strong muscles of his arms and shoulders visible through his fitted shirt.

Finally, he ducks into a tiny alleyway, stopping before an unassuming doorway you surely would have just passed right by. A faded sign hangs above reading Gelatomania in curling script.

“This place is my favorite,” Charles confides in a conspiratorial murmur as he holds the door for you. “Family-run for generations and miles better than any of the touristy places.”

You step inside and are immediately enveloped in a thick, sugary aroma that makes your mouth water. A few little metal tables with rickety chairs are squeezed into the compact space, but it’s the immaculate glass cases lining the walls that draw your eye.

Filled with every flavor imaginable, the gelato looks utterly divine — from naturally green pistachio to decadent chocolate hazelnut to tangy lemon. An older woman with a grandmotherly face greets Charles like an old friend in rapid Italian from behind the counter.

He responds easily in kind before turning back to you. “What’ll it be? I recommend the hazelnut again if you liked your first one.”

You nod and watch, utterly charmed, as Charles places your order for a fresh hazelnut gelato with a deferential “per favore” and that knee-weakening smile of his. He gets a simple vanilla for himself before paying and leading you over to a little iron table outside in a sliver of sunshine.

You take your first bite and … oh my god. This is gelato from the heavens themselves. You can’t contain the downright blissful moan that escapes your lips as the divinely creamy, rich concoction melts across your tongue.

“Good, right?” Charles looks incredibly pleased at your rapturous reaction as he digs into his own treat with gusto.

“This might be the single most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted,” you admit fervently between increasingly enthusiastic licks and bites. “How have I survived this long without knowing this place existed?”

Charles throws his head back with a full-bellied laugh at your passionate proclamation. God, even his laugh is unfairly attractive ...

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” he grins around a mouthful of velvety vanilla. “I’ve been coming here since before I could walk. Quickly became my favorite gelato spot.”

“You’ve lived here a while then?” You ask between savoring bites of the impossibly luscious confection. “I only just moved for university.”

Charles nods as he licks a stray drip from his thumb. “Yeah, born and raised a few streets over actually.”

There’s a slight lull as you both focus on thoroughly demolishing your gelato for a few contented minutes, exchanging occasional muffled hums of sheer delight. The warm sun filtering through the awning casts a soft golden glow over the little alleyway, lending everything a dreamlike haze of perfection.

“So beyond being from here, do you have any exciting hobbies or interests?” You ask eventually, dragging the conversation back into the open.

“Well ...” Charles’ expression morphs into one of almost sheepish amusement as he leans back in his rickety chair. “You could say my hobby is also kind of my job. I’m actually a Formula 1 driver, believe it or not.”

You damn near choke on your next bite as his words register. “You’re what? As in ... a race car driver? In Formula 1? Seriously?”

There’s no way this stunning man is being truthful. Sure, he looks like he could be some kind of athlete with that perfectly toned physique. But a literal professional race car driver? The thought is almost too crazy to be believed.

Charles just laughs again at your dumbfounded reaction, clearly used to this response as he nods. “Seriously! I compete for Ferrari if you follow the races at all?”

You think you might pass out from shock as everything clicks into place — the athletic build, the way people seemed to stare as he passed them on the street, the laid-back confidence and easy smile of someone incredibly comfortable in their own skin ...

“Oh my god, you’re ... you’re Charles freaking Leclerc, aren’t you?” You gape at him in abject disbelief. “As in, the guy literally plastered on the huge billboard across from my apartment? Leading the championship? Incredibly talented and famous?”

He lets out an almost bashful chuckle at your rapid-fire incredulous questioning, shrugging one broad shoulder. “Well, I don’t know about incredibly talented or famous. But yes, that’s me — just your average local race car driver currently making an absolute mess while eating gelato.”

Here you sit, having just shared an utterly divine dessert while shamelessly ogling one of the most popular and well-known athletes in the damn world … and he’s acting like it’s absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. Like you’re just two regular people enjoying a sweet treat together on a sunny day.

“I can’t believe I’m having this conversation right now,” you murmur, shaking your head slowly. “Do you have any idea how many people would kill to literally just ... sit across from you like this while you eat mediocre gas station ice cream, much less the world’s best gelato? I’m … stunned you’re so nonchalant about this whole thing.”

Charles merely flashes you a self-deprecating grin as he pops the last bite of cone into his mouth. “Well, to me you’re not some screaming fangirl, but just a lovely new friend I enjoy gelato with. Though my ego certainly appreciates the compliments.”

He winks at you impishly and you feel an unwitting smile tugging at the corners of your own lips despite your lingering disbelief. You suppose being surrounded by such incredible wealth and luxury every day in Monaco, Charles likely doesn’t register it anymore. Not to mention the clearly down-to-earth personality he seems to possess given that genuine humility.

The hours just seem to slip effortlessly by then as the two of you continue to chat and laugh and bask in the perfect afternoon contentment of the moment. Charles regales you with ridiculous behind-the-scenes stories about increasingly crazy bets with his friends and crew during the season. You share equally hilarious tales of your own coming-of-age mishaps as an overeager teenager.

At some point, you both reach for your long-empty dishes simultaneously, fingers brushing in a spark of contact that sends your pulse stuttering. Charles doesn’t pull back, letting his hand linger outrageously close to yours as his warm gaze stays locked intensely on your face.

You try to swallow past a suddenly dry throat as the atmosphere shifts abruptly, suddenly heavy with the hot crackle of unmistakable chemistry and unspoken tension. But then, just like that, the moment passes as quickly as it came.

Your phone buzzes loudly in your pocket with a text, the notification startling you both back to reality. Charles sits back, clearing his throat slightly as you pull your hand away to quickly check the message.

It’s from your roommate asking when you’ll be home for dinner and if you need her to start cooking.

You glance up at Charles with an apologetic grimace. “I should probably head back. I didn’t realize how late it’s gotten.”

He blinks rapidly before seeming to visibly shake himself. “Right, of course! Time really got away from us, didn’t it?”

You stand as Charles rises smoothly to his feet as well, shoving both hands casually in his pockets. “So ... I had a really great time with you today,” he says carefully, something almost hesitant flickering across his face. “And I’d love a chance to take you out again sometime soon, if you’re interested? Maybe grab dinner when I’m back in town?”

Your breath catches in your throat at the unmistakable request for an actual date. With Charles freaking Leclerc no less ...

Tamping down your sudden nerves, you nod slowly as a shy smile blossoms on your lips. “I’d really like that,” you admit truthfully. “Let’s definitely do dinner whenever you’re free.”

His whole expression brightens immediately at your affirmation, lips stretching in a wide grin of pure delight. “Perfect! I’ll be back from my next race in just over a week then. How about exchanging numbers so I can let you know as soon as I’ve returned?”

You quickly rattle off your number as Charles punches it into his phone before doing the same for you. As if sealing some unspoken deal, he sticks out his hand to shake yours, that warm roughened grip lingering perhaps a moment longer than strictly necessary.

“I’ll text you soon then,” Charles murmurs intently, that spark of heat flickering in his eyes again. “Promise me you’ll say yes this time.”

You can only nod mutely, mouth gone bone-dry at the pointed words and heated look washing over you. Charles maintains that blistering eye contact and heart-stalling grip on your palm for another loaded handful of seconds, leaving you dizzy with giddy anticipation.

Then, just like that, he releases your hand with one final squeeze before taking a step back, seemingly satisfied by your stunned agreement. Charles shoots you one last lingering look and crooked grin before turning to stride easily back the way you came.

You remain rooted in place for a long moment, utterly dazed by the entire surreal scenario as you watch his broad shoulders and narrow waist disappear down the narrow alleyway.

Today started out as any other nothing-out-of-the-ordinary spring day in your new home. But now … now you have an actual date scheduled with an unbelievably charming and disarmingly down-to-earth racing superstar.

A giddy giggle bubbles up from deep in your chest as reality finally settles in. Who could have ever predicted that bumping into your new acquaintance — quite literally — would lead to not only discovering the most heavenly gelato on the planet, but lining up a date with an internationally famous athlete?

Suddenly, your bright future studying in Monaco just got about ten thousand times more interesting …

***

The week passes by in a blur of anticipation after your initial meeting with Charles. You can barely focus during lectures, your mind constantly wandering to that charming grin and those warm eyes crinkling at the corners whenever he laughed.

Finally, the evening you’ve been eagerly awaiting arrives. You’ve just finished getting ready — pulling on a flowy sundress and brushing out your hair one last time — when your phone buzzes with a new text.

I’m outside whenever you’re ready for our date night. Looking forward to seeing you again 😘

You can’t bite back your giddy smile as you quickly reply that you’re heading out before taking one last steadying breath.

It’s just Charles … the internationally famous and absurdly handsome Formula 1 driver you’ve somehow managed to snag a date with.

No big deal at all.

The evening air carries a pleasantly cool breeze as you exit your apartment building, scanning the idling line of vehicles for Charles’ car. You spot him immediately, leaning against the gleaming metallic side of what you now recognize as an eye-wateringly expensive Ferrari.

Charles looks … unfairly gorgeous. He’s shed his athletic wear in favor of a simple white linen shirt and tailored slacks that somehow make him appear even more effortlessly suave. His hair is artfully tousled and damn if those clothes don’t accentuate every hard plane and corded muscle of his built frame.

You must be staring because suddenly Charles is pushing off from the car and straightening to his full height, those intense eyes crinkling warmly as soon as they land on you.

“You look stunning,” he murmurs appreciatively once you’ve drawn closer, making a show of trailing his gaze slowly up and down your figure. You’re abruptly grateful for the dusky twilight hiding your furious blush at the blatant admiration in his tone.

“Thanks,” you manage to get out without your voice shaking too noticeably. “You don’t look half bad yourself, race car man.”

Charles throws back his head with one of those deep-bellied laughs you’re quickly becoming addicted to. “Why thank you, gelato girl.” He shoots you a wink before surprising you by gallantly offering his arm. “Shall we?”

You take it without hesitation, reveling in the solid warmth of his bicep pressed against your side as Charles leads you to the waiting glossy black sports car. He opens the door for you like an old-fashioned gentleman, closing it carefully once you’re tucked inside the buttery leather interior.

The engine roars to life with a powerful rumble and you can’t resist shooting Charles an impressed look as he deftly maneuvers out onto the street.

“You know, I’m starting to think this little hobby of yours might not be too bad of a gig,” you tease lightly, waving a hand at the sleek interior compartment.

“I can’t complain,” Charles volleys back with a crooked grin, seamlessly navigating the tight turns of the old city. “Sometimes they even let me drive in circles really fast just for fun.”

You roll your eyes at his retort, but can’t quite wipe the smile off your face as Charles guns the engine, the car surging forward in a burst of speed and power. Clearly the man knows how to leverage any opportunity to show off those expert driving skills … not that you mind one bit.

Eventually, Charles pulls up in front of an unassuming doorway you never would have noticed tucked down a quiet side street. The understated sign above simply reads Trattoria Giovanni.

“This place has been run by the same Italian family for over fifty years,” Charles explains as he holds the door for you. “Best authentic cuisine in the city, but you would never find it unless you knew where to look.”

The interior appears to have been plucked directly from a rustic Tuscan villa — burnished wooden beams criss-crossing the curved ceilings and terracotta tiles underfoot. You breathe in deeply, savoring the mouthwatering aromas of garlic, tomato sauce, and fresh bread wafting from the open kitchen.

An older man with a thick mustache and crisp white apron greets Charles immediately in fluent Italian, ushering you both back to a cozy alcove table secluded in the very rear. He pours you both generous glasses of deep red wine before disappearing again with a conspiratorial wink in your direction.

“So, how was your race?” You ask between sips once you and Charles are alone, genuinely curious about the difficult career he’s managed to carve out.

He shrugs one broad shoulder almost dismissively. “Decent enough, I suppose. Grabbed another podium finish, but didn’t quite have the pace for the win.” There’s no disappointment or frustration in his tone as he speaks, just a simple statement of fact.

“I’m endlessly in awe that you treat accomplishments like that so casually,” you admit with a shake of your head. “Finishing in the top three in Formula 1 seems like the kind of thing most people would be over the moon about.”

Charles lets out a low chuckle at that, leaning towards you over the small table with eyes twinkling mischievously. “Well maybe I need to find a new way to impress someone like you then.”

You open your mouth to respond with a playful retort of your own, but Charles’ gaze has already strayed to somewhere past your shoulder.

“Ah, perfect timing then. Here’s Giovanni himself with our orders.”

Sure enough, the older man you spotted earlier bustles up with a tray overflowing with piping hot plates of food. He doles out the dishes methodically while rattling off a stream of explanations about preparations and ingredients that have clearly been passed down for many generations.

Everything looks and smells utterly divine — from the heaping bowl of glistening spaghetti blanketed in a simmering tomato sauce to the golden-baked chicken drenched in rosemary and olive oil. The endlessly affable Giovanni even sets down a small ceramic dish full of creamy pale cheese, patting Charles on the shoulder.

“The burrata for you and your lady friend. Freshly made this morning by my wife,” he declares proudly before whisking himself away again.

For the next blissful hour or two, you and Charles completely lose yourselves in this veritable feast for the senses. You savor each and every decadent bite — moaning around the pillowy strands of spaghetti and tearing off chunks of the crusty, herb-brushed breads to soak up the savory juices.

Charles, for his part, dives into the meal with just as much enthusiasm, occasionally reaching over to snag a bite off of your plate until you resort to smacking his wandering fork away between fits of laughter.

Stuffed and utterly content, you both eventually push away your long-cleared dishes to nurse the final sips of your wine as the evening stretches languorously on. You fall into these simple moments like an old habit by now — trading comfortable silences and contented looks between impassioned recounts of childhood anecdotes or musings about life.

Finally, as the candles on the small wooden tables begin to gutter and wane, Charles summons over your waiter to settle the check with a few murmured words and one of those knee-weakening smiles. Rising smoothly, he extends his hand in a wordless invitation for you to join him back out into the balmy evening.

This time, instead of heading for the car, Charles tucks your hand into the crook of his elbow before choosing a new direction — down a maze of narrow streets until you finally emerge along the harbor’s edge. Strings of twinkling lights reflect off the lapping waves while the soft strains of background music filter out from somewhere nearby.

“Feel like grabbing a little dessert to walk off that incredible meal?” Charles asks in a low murmur, bumping your shoulder conspiratorially.

You shoot him an incredulous look even as you nod. “You mean in addition to the literal feast we both just had?”

Charles tugs you closer to his side until your hips graze together as you match strides. “There’s always room for gelato,” he counters with an arched brow. “Besides, when in Monaco ...”

Any further protests die on your lips as Charles guides you around another tight corner to reveal that familiar cheerful gelato shop from your initial meeting. The old woman behind the counter greets you both like regulars already, no doubt thanks to Charles’ frequent patronage.

You maneuver through the small line until it’s your turn to order. “I think I’ll go with the tiramisu flavor this time,” you decide, mouth already watering at the prospect of that rich coffee and creamy goodness. “What about you? Mixing it up or still sticking with the basics?”

Charles shakes his head resolutely as he hands over a few crisp bills to pay for your treats. “Trust me, a heaping helping of simple vanilla is just as gratifying as all those overly complicated flavor combinations.”

You balk at his slander, bumping his shoulder with your own without any real heat. “How dare you insult my incredible palette like that?” You glare at him in mock offense. “I’ll have you know I have some of the most refined gelato taste in all of Monaco now.”

“Oh yeah?” Charles tips his chin down with a challenging smirk twisting his full lips. “Well what if I told you that vanilla is scientifically proven to be the most popular and beloved flavor in existence?”

“By who? Basic boring people?” You volley back mercilessly, eagerly leaning into the playful banter now. “If anything, those findings just demonstrated how sadly uncreative society at large is.”

Charles barks out a booming laugh as he grabs your hand and tugs you back out of the shop, gelato in the other. “You heathen! We’re clearly going to need to educate you on the finer points of flavor appreciation.”

Your eyes narrow dangerously even as you let yourself be lead to a nearby bench overlooking the gently lapping waves. “Oh, you’re on, Leclerc. Let’s see if your vanilla snobbery holds up after a taste of tiramisu heaven.”

You scoop up an exaggeratedly generous spoonful of the divinely rich, creamy gelato and make a show of savoring it with overstated moans of delight. “Oh my god, this is so good. Here, you have to try this! It’s life-changing.”

Charles wrinkles his nose even as you wave the spoonful enticingly in front of him. “Nice try but I would never cheat on vanilla!”

The two of you devolve into helpless laughter at that point, dissolving into breathless giggles over the ridiculous debate getting more outrageous by the minute. Finally, you relent in the battle, settling back into the cool metal of the bench and turning your face up to the inky sea of stars glittering overhead.

“You’re right though — sometimes simple really is best,” you admit finally in a softer tone, slowly licking another sweet bite off your spoon.

Charles hums in agreement next to you, shuffling closer until your arms brush together with body heat and contact. “The classics never go out of style.”

The next comfortable silence stretches out between you as you take your time savoring your treats while simultaneously drinking in the breathtaking view laid out before you. The water laps almost hypnotically at the shoreline, twinkling reflection of docked yachts bobbing gently on the calm surface.

A breeze skates across your bare arms, raising a faint ripple of goosebumps along your skin. Charles notices immediately, shifting even nearer until he can shrug out of the lightweight jacket he had been wearing.

Without a word, he swings the soft fabric around your shoulders, tucking it securely around your front. You burrow instinctively into the material, the lingering body heat and remnants of his cologne wrapping you up in an cocoon of soothing warmth and intoxicating comfort.

With your free hand, you toy idly with the collar until Charles’ arm comes up to curl around your shoulders, effectively enveloping you into his solid frame. You let your cheek tip onto the firm muscle of his arm as Charles squeezes you closer with a contented exhale.

Time becomes meaningless suspended in that perfect sea-side bubble, waves flowing rhythmically while you enjoy every last savored bite of your melting treats. You let the quiet inevitability of dropping your head onto Charles’ shoulder wash over you, his familiar cologne invading your senses until your entire world narrows to just him.

When Charles polishes off the final bite of his cone and you go to shift away, another cool gust skitters across the harbor. He tightens the arm curved around you, making no move to let you up or leave the cozy haven you’ve made.

“I could get used to evenings like this, you know,” he murmurs eventually, lips brushing the top of your head. “Just taking it slow and savoring each other’s company without a single worry or care beyond where to find the best gelato.”

You hum in sleepy agreement, luxuriating in the casual intimacy of having Charles wrapped so protectively around you. Part of you can scarcely believe how instantaneous and natural this connection has blossomed between you already. But another part feels like you’ve finally found your soul’s missing piece slotting seamlessly into place after stumbling around lost and incomplete for so long without ever realizing it.

The two of you remain suspended in that perfect, tranquil bubble for what could be minutes or hours more. You’ve completely lost track of any sense of time beyond the lullaby of the gentle waves and occasional murmur of Charles’ breathing ruffling your hair.

Eventually though, his stirring signals a slow return to the real world as Charles regretfully extricates himself from your entwined position with clear reluctance.

“I should probably get you back before your roommate starts to worry,” he says remorsefully as he slides off the bench to offer you a steadying hand up.

You accept it without hesitation, but can’t resist clinging to his jacket still cocooned around your shoulders, unwilling to shrug off that lingering cocoon of comfort and safety just yet. Charles notices, allowing a tiny grin to quirk one side of his mouth upwards as he takes in your refusal to part with it.

“Looks good on you,” he murmurs with unmistakable heat in those hypnotizing eyes. “I may have to let you hang on to that one for a while.”

Your mouth goes abruptly dry at the blatant implications in his tone, but you manage a coy smile in return as you turn to make your way back towards wherever Charles has his car crookedly parked.

The streets are all but abandoned by the time you arrive at the discreet entrance of your apartment building. Charles hesitates a split second before rounding the front of the gleaming Ferrari to face you properly on the quiet sidewalk.

“Thank you for an incredible evening,” you say honestly, gazing up at his silhouette in the dim glow of the streetlamps. “I don’t think I can even put into words how special you’ve managed to make me feel these past couple weeks.”

His expression softens instantly. One calloused palm comes up to tenderly cup your jaw, tilting your face up towards his with feather-light reverence.

“The pleasure has been all mine, I assure you,” Charles rumbles in a low tone that steals your breath away. “I don’t think you’ll ever realize just how remarkable you are, ma belle.”

Your eyes flutter shut without conscious thought as his nose brushes yours. Charles’ lips glide torturously against your cheek leaving a blazing trail to the very corner of your mouth.

The softest, most infinitely gentle press of satin flesh on flesh and then he’s pulling back — his ragged exhale warm and intoxicating against your tingling lips. You chase his retreat on instinct, but Charles is already withdrawing further with clear reluctance.

“I’m afraid I don’t trust myself to take things slow quite yet if I stay,” he murmurs in a strained rasp, pupils blown wide and dark. “But I do hope you’ll allow me to make this our new gelato tradition from now on ...”

It takes you several faltering attempts to find your voice again, chest rising and falling rapidly in the aftermath of that lightning bolt of affection. Finally, you manage a jerky nod, sliding one trembling hand over his where it still cups your cheek.

“I want that more than anything,” you confess in a hushed tone. “Just ... promise me we’ll see each other soon.”

He releases a shuddering breath of unbridled relief, dipping his forehead to rest against yours. “Soon,” Charles vows lowly. “I promise.”

You stare up into his earnest eyes. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Charles’ lips quirk in that lopsided grin you already adore so much. “I’m counting on it.”

With obvious reluctance, he finally steps away, snagging your hand to press one last searing kiss to your knuckles that has your heart stuttering all over again. Charles holds your gaze as you carefully back away towards the entrance, unwilling or unable to fully turn your back until the very last moment.

You chance a glance over your shoulder as you reach the front doors. Charles is still there, unmoving in a pool of streetlight beside his idling Ferrari, hands shoved in his pockets as he tracks your every step until you’ve slipped safely inside.

Exhaling a shuddering breath, you lean back against the cool stone wall, fingers coming up to ghost across your still-tingling lips almost disbelievingly.

When you finally muster the courage to peek through the glass once more, Charles has moved to lean against the side of his car, head tilted back as he stares into the lobby with an unmistakable softness etched across those chiseled features.

You can’t resist pressing your palm to the pane in a gesture you know he’ll recognize. Sure enough, Charles’ intense gaze instantly snaps to lock on you from across the quiet street, expression melting into pure adoration and wonder. His lips shape the same promise he uttered just moments ago — soon — as your own quirk in a delighted smile.

One last impulsive spark of inspiration has you playfully blowing him a single kiss through the barrier between you. Charles catches the invisible token easily, hand flying up to press over that broad chest as he throws back his head with a laugh that you can’t hear but imagine with vivid clarity.

You stand there transfixed, drinking in every last detail of him — the effortless elegance he carries himself with, the striking planes of his handsome face, and those beautiful eyes glittering with a thousand unspoken promises under the streetlamps.

Finally, with your own vow to reunite pulsing between you, Charles slides behind the wheel of his car. The powerful engine roars to life, twin beams from the headlights sweeping up to briefly wash through the windows of the lobby in a silent farewell before he’s peeling away into the night back towards the glittering city center.

You remain at the entrance for several long minutes basking in the memory of Charles’ phantom embrace still clinging to your skin. Only once his Ferrari has faded into the distance do you finally turn towards the elevator up to your apartment — every footstep lighter than air in the wake of an evening that lived up to even your wildest dreams of romantic splendor.

The simple joy and humble pleasure of a perfect scoop of creamy gelato will always hold untold meaning now as the spark marking the start of something beautiful blossoming between you and Charles.

And, as you finally drift off that night with a permanent smile etched across your face, you know without a shadow of a doubt that no flavor in the world could ever compare to the sweet indulgence of a life together just waiting to be savored and explored.

***

The warm spring breeze carries the sweet floral scents of the Brera Botanical Garden through the air as you stroll hand-in-hand with Charles. His fingers are laced through yours, his thumb gently stroking over your knuckles. You can’t help stealing glances at his handsome profile — the defined jawline, those soft kiss-curled lips, those kind green eyes that always seem to be smiling even when the rest of his face isn’t.

“What are you looking at?” Charles says with an amused grin, catching you staring again. You just shake your head and squeeze his hand tighter.

“Nothing. Just admiring the view,” you tease. Charles laughs that bright, infectious laugh of his that never fails to make your heart flutter.

You come to a stop beneath a blossoming cherry tree, pale pink petals floating down around you. Charles turns to face you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Y/N … there’s something I want to talk to you about,” he begins, suddenly uncharacteristically nervous. You tilt your head curiously. “You know how passionate I am about racing, about Formula 1. It’s been my dream since I was a little boy.”

“Of course,” you nod, unable to stop a small smile. Charles’ love for motorsports is one of the many things you have come to adore about him.

“Well, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately,” Charles continues, taking both your hands in his. “And I’ve realized that I want to have something else in my life too. A … passion project, you could say. Something that’s away from all the spotlight and pressure.”

Your brow furrows slightly as you try to imagine what he could mean. Charles has spoken before about potentially getting more involved in charity work or environmentalism on top of his racing career. But the almost childlike excitement dancing in his eyes tells you this is something different.

“I’m going to open a gelato shop,” he blurts out finally. You blink dumbly.

“A … gelato shop?” You repeat slowly. Out of all the possibilities, that was definitely not what you were expecting.

“Yes!” Charles grins broadly, clearly delighted by your surprise. “Think about it,Y/N. What’s more perfect than gelato made right here in the heart of Milano? And I’ve already found the ideal location — a little shop just across the street from here. Can’t you just picture it?”

He starts gesturing animatedly, that bright smile never leaving his face as he outlines his grand vision. You can’t help getting caught up in his infectious enthusiasm, even if the idea still seems a bit random.

“I’m going to call it Lec,” Charles says with a proud smile. You let out an undignified snort of laughter.

“Lec? Like your last name?” You shake your head in amusement. He looks almost offended by your reaction.

“No, no, not just my last name,” he corrects you seriously. “Lec as in … our last name. Yours and mine.”

The words hang in the air as realization slowly starts to dawn on you. You open and close your mouth dumbly as Charles takes a deep breath, sliding off the path onto one knee on the ground before you. With shaking hands, he pulls out a small black box from his pocket and flips it open to reveal the most stunning diamond ring you’ve ever seen.

“Y/N Y/L/N … you are my world, my everything,” Charles’ voice is thick with emotion as he gazes up at you. “I cannot imagine spending the rest of my life with anyone else by my side. I want to wake up every morning and go to sleep every night with you beside me forever.”

Tears are already welling in your eyes, one hand pressed to your trembling lips as you listen to the beautiful words.

“Will you ...” Charles’ voice catches in his throat and he has to clear it before continuing. “Will you do me the greatest honor and become my wife? Will you marry me?”

The last few words come out in a rush of breath. You’re vaguely aware of several other people in the gardens who’ve stopped to watch, but all you can see is Charles’ face — hopeful and vulnerable and so full of pure adoration for you.

“Yes!” You finally manage to choke out through your joyful tears. “Oh my god, yes! Yes of course I’ll marry you!”

Pure relief and blissful ecstasy bursts across Charles’ face at your answer. With hands trembling just as badly as yours, he eases the glittering ring out of the box and onto your finger where it nestles perfectly, the diamond catching the dappled sunlight.

Before you can even look at it properly, Charles is on his feet again, pulling you into his embrace and spinning you around in a deliriously happy circle. You cling to him, laughing and crying at the same time as he peppers every inch of your face with kisses — your forehead, your cheeks, the tip of your nose.

Finally, inevitably, his mouth finds yours in a long, deep, loving kiss that has your knees feeling weak. You get lost in the warmth of his arms around you, the gentleness of his hands cradling your face, the tenderness of his soft lips moving reverently against yours.

When you finally part, you’re both smiling so much it almost hurts, foreheads pressed together as you share the same breath. Charles brushes away a few stray tears on your cheeks with the pad of his thumb.

“I love you so much, mon cœur,” he murmurs softly. You mouth the words back to him before stealing another lingering kiss.

Hand-in-hand once more, Charles leads you out of the botanical gardens and across the street. You come to a stop in front of a quaint yet sizable storefront, the windows covered in brown paper and a faded For Lease sign still hanging crookedly in the door.

“Here it is,” Charles says, gesturing up at the building with undisguised pride. “What do you think?”

You take it in slowly, trying to envision what the space might look like once renovated and filled with cozy seating and the alluring scents of freshly-made gelato.

You picture the two of you working side-by-side behind the counter when Charles doesn’t have a race, laughing and bantering as you serve up delicious treats for smiling customers.

It’s such an endearingly normal, domestic dream compared to the fast-paced frenzy of the Formula 1 lifestyle. But standing here with your new fiancé, it feels absolutely perfect.

“I think … I think it’s going to be incredible,” you lean into Charles’ side and wrap your arms around his trim waist. He responds by kissing your temple and pulling you closer.

“Just think,” he says happily, his warm breath ruffling your hair. “We’ll be the owners of the best little gelateria in all of Milano.

“Sounds like heaven,” you smile. “Just be sure to make plenty of hazelnut and tiramisu for me.”

“Done and done,” he promises solemnly. “Though you know vanilla will always be number one in my book.”

“Oh really?” You arch an eyebrow challengingly. “Is that so?”

Without warning, you loop your arms around Charles’ neck and pull him in for a long, lingering kiss. You can feel him melting into your embrace, his arms snaking securely around your waist.

When you finally manage to pull apart again, you’re both slightly flushed and out of breath. Charles’ usually perfectly tousled hair is charmingly mussed from running your fingers through it. He looks at you with such naked affection and desire that your heart flutters.

“You know what?” He murmurs huskily, resting his forehead against yours. “I take it back. You’re definitely my favorite flavor. And I can’t wait to start this next chapter with you, mon amour.”

And with that promise lingering sweetly between you, Charles takes your face in his hands and kisses you deeply once more, pouring every ounce of his devotion into the embrace.

You can taste forever on his lips.

When you finally part, grinning giddily at each other, Charles takes your hand and leads you back towards your next adventure. Whatever lies ahead, you know you’ll take it on fearlessly and joyously, side-by-side with the man you love more than anything in this world.

***

The reception hall is a whirlwind of joy and celebration as you take in the scene, your heart overflowing with love and happiness. The elegant decorations, the twinkling lights, and the smiling faces of your loved ones surrounding you all blur together in a beautiful haze.

You can scarcely believe this day has finally arrived — the day you’ve dreamed of for so long.

You turn to Charles, his warm green eyes sparkling with so much love, and your breath catches in your throat. He looks devastatingly handsome in his perfectly tailored tuxedo, his million-watt smile making your knees go weak.

This incredible man is now your husband.

“Hey you,” he murmurs, taking your hand and brushing his lips across your knuckles. “Having fun, mon amour?”

A joyful laugh escapes your lips as you nod enthusiastically. “More than I ever thought possible. I’m just … I’m so happy, Charles. I can’t believe we’re actually married!”

He chuckles, that rich laugh that never fails to make you melt. “Believe it, Mrs. Leclerc. You’re stuck with me forever now.” His expression softens as he cups your cheek tenderly. “I love you so much. I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

You lean into his touch, savoring the moment. “I love you too, Mr. Leclerc. More than anything.”

A throat clears behind you, and you whirl around to see Arthur, your new brother-in-law, grinning mischievously.

“If you two lovebirds are done making everyone else nauseous, it’s time to cut the cake!” He teases, jerking his head towards the lavish gelato cake that sits on the dessert table.

Charles throws his head back with a laugh. “You’re just jealous that you don’t have someone as amazing as my wife to make gooey eyes at.”

Arthur rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Whatever. Get your butts over there before I eat the whole thing myself.”

With a wink at you, Charles takes your hand and leads you towards the dessert table, the crowd of guests parting like the Red Sea to let you through. Your heart does a little flip as the magnificent gelato cake comes into view — a towering masterpiece of creamy gelato in vanilla, hazelnut, and tiramisu, all artfully swirled together and decorated with fresh fruit and chocolate shavings.

“It’s perfect,” you whisper in awe, giving Charles’ hand a squeeze.

He pulls you into his side with a content smile. “Not as perfect as you.”

The crowd applauds as you approach the cake, and a chorus of cheers and wolf whistles rises up. Straightening your shoulders with a grin, you pick up the gleaming cake knife and lock eyes with Charles, suddenly feeling bold.

“Ready to do this, husband?” You ask with a teasing lilt.

His eyes blaze with undisguised desire. “More than ready, wife.”

Together, you slice into the towering gelato cake, the creamy filling oozing out and already making your mouth water. Once you have a generous slice on a plate, you scoop up a spoonful and lock eyes with Charles again, arching an eyebrow in challenge.

His pupils dilate as he catches your meaning, a low growl rumbling in his throat. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, mon cœur.”

“Who says I can’t finish it?” You take a step closer, holding the spoonful of gelato up temptingly.

Charles tips his head back with a groan. “You’re killing me here.”

“Good thing you have me to bring you back to life then,” you quip, pressing the spoon to his lips.

He opens obediently, letting you slide the gelato into his mouth with agonizing slowness. His eyelids flutter shut as the flavors explode over his tongue, and he actually moans — deep and guttural and utterly sinful.

A choked sound comes from somewhere in the crowd. “Oh please, get a room!” Joris, Charles’ best friend and best man, calls out with a mixture of amusement and mortification.

Charles doesn’t even open his eyes, simply raising one middle finger in Joris’ direction as he savors the last of the gelato. When his tongue finally darts out to catch a stray bit on his lips, you feel an unexpected flare of heat low in your belly.

Okay, two can play at this game.

Deliberately holding Charles’ heated gaze, you dip your finger into the gelato drippings on the plate and slowly, so slowly, bring it up to your lips. You let the very tip of your tongue dart out to catch the sticky sweetness, swirling it around luxuriously. His Adam’s apple bobs as he watches you, jaw tense.

That’s it.

You slip your finger into your mouth fully, hollowing out your cheeks as you suck the gelato off with an utterly obscene sound. Charles’ knees actually buckle, and he grips the table behind him for support, pupils blown wide.

“You are so dead,” he growls under his breath, low and dangerous.

Unable to stop yourself, you let out a breathy giggle, drunk with a dizzying cocktail of desire and sheer bliss. Charles takes a half step closer, his eyes burning into yours. You quickly scoop up another fingerful of gelato, desperate to keep pushing those buttons and draw out that delicious intensity.

But before you can bring it to your lips, quick as a flash, Charles is on you. He drags you flush against his solid form, his free hand cupping the back of your neck to angle your mouth up to his. The scorching kiss steals the breath from your lungs, leaving you dizzy and clinging to his lapels for purchase.

When he finally breaks away, his eyes are blazing with unconcealed want.

“You missed a spot,” he rasps.

Then he’s ducking his head, and with one torturously slow lick, he clears the stray bit of gelato from the tip of your nose. The heat of his tongue on your overly sensitive skin makes you whimper.

The catcalls and whistles from your guests fade into white noise as you melt against your husband, lost in the endless depths of his hungry gaze. Screw being appropriate — you’ll give them all a show to remember if you have to.

“Fuck, I love you,” Charles rumbles, his voice low and rough with barely restrained desire.

Before you can respond, he’s kissing you again — deep and thorough and all-consuming. You sigh into his mouth, bunching the fine material of his tuxedo jacket in your fists to pull him even closer. His hand slides from your neck into your hair, cradling your head reverently as he pours every ounce of his love and passion into the kiss.

An eternity later, he breaks away with a ragged breath, resting his forehead against yours. “I think it’s time to get out of here, don’t you?”

You can only nod breathlessly, already imagining the deliciously wicked things he has in store. As if in a trance, you allow him to take your hand and lead you towards the exit, shouting and wolf whistles following in your wake.

Just before you slip out of the hall, you hear Pierre Gasly’s teasing voice behind you.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, you two!”

Charles pauses only long enough to call over his shoulder, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“But there’s nothing you wouldn’t do!”

Then he’s sweeping you into his arms with a playful growl, carrying you into your new life together as man and wife. Peals of laughter and cheers chase you down the hall, but you only have eyes for each other in this perfect moment.

You’re married to the love of your life. You have forever with this incredible man. And if the wedding is anything to go by, forever is going to be deliciously amazing.

Literally.

Little Falcon

For day 22 of Rowaelin Month: Magic/Shifting lessons with the kids

@rowaelinscourt

Masterlist

Word count: 1k

Warnings: none!

Aelin was going to kill him, she truly was. She usually was a forgiving soul, one of the kindest people he knew despite her penchant for violence and general mischief. But for this, she would kill him.

Because he committed probably the worst act he could have ever committed. Worse than killing a man. Worse than forgetting Aelin’s birthday. Worse than eating his wife’s chocolate hazelnut cake. No, Rowan lost their daughter. Alma was almost four years old, her blonde, shining hair always a beacon and her quiet, yet temperamental disposition a mirror of her mother’s. It seemed that she had also inherited her mother’s ability to sneak around. Because she wasn’t here. She wasn’t anywhere.

He’d been searching the castle for almost an hour, hoping to find the little trickster before Aelin was done with her meeting. He began in Alma’s room, hoping that her golden hair would be sticking out from her covers or her tiny toes from under her bed. No such luck was found. He made his way around the royal family’s wing of the castle with the same circumstances. He quietly asked the staff members if they had seen her, all to a resounding “no” and a look of disapproval that he lost Alma.

He was about to shift into hawk form to do a fly-by of the castle grounds but before he could, he heard footsteps coming up the stairs to their wing. Alma. Relieved, he rounded the corner, shouting her name and about to give the little girl a stern talking to when he stopped in his tracks. Aelin was standing in front of him, one brow raised and a knowing look on her face.

“Why were you calling Alma’s name?”

Rowan let out a nervous chuckle. “Well, you see…” He knew Aelin could probably see the sweat beading on his forehead. “Alma and I, we were….we were playing hide and seek! Yeah. And she’s just so good at hiding that I can’t find her.”

Aelin rolled her eyes. “You’re a terrible liar, Buzzard. Just tell me you lost our daughter so we can go find her.”

He deflated at that. “Fine. I lost our daughter. Happy now?”

“Not particularly, no.” Aelin sighed. “I was gone for less than two hours, Rowan. How did this happen?”

“Errin needed to be changed so I stepped out of her room for a minute. A single minute, Aelin. And the next thing I knew, she was gone.” Panic laced his voice and he knew that he was about five seconds from completely losing his shit. It was a miracle he had kept it together this long, to be quite honest.

“I put Errin in his crib for a nap–don’t worry, one of the nursemaids is in there with him–and I came back and she was just gone. I didn’t even hear her little feet scamper by or anything. I don’t understand it.” Tears were finally forming in his eyes as the realization that he lost their daughter set in.

Slender arms wrapped around his middle, embracing him tightly. “It’s okay, Buzzard. We’ll find her, okay? We’ll look together and we’ll find her.” Even if Aelin was putting on a brave front, he knew she was probably panicking as much as he was. “Besides, she has the bravery of both of her parents so I’m sure she’s totally fine.” Aelin gave him a small smile and pulled him by the hand toward her room.

Gradually, they overturned every cushion, ripped every blanket from her bed, and opened everyy door and drawer but still no Alma. Rowan tugged on his hair, hoping to relieve some of the tension that was building in the pit of his stomach again. Aelin was slowly putting everything back to where it was so he figured he’d go and make another round of their bedroom.

Aelin’s voice halted him about halfway down the hall. “Uh, hey, Buzzard?”

He doesn’t think he ever ran so fast in his life. With panicked eyes, he burst into the room like a tornado. Aelin was standing calmly in the center of the room, looking up at the small curtain rod that hung over Alma’s bed.

“Look there,” she pointed toward the ceiling where a small bird was perched on the curtain rod. A suspiciously golden-looking falcon stared back at him and chirped. The tiny falcon flapped its wings, getting enough air to rise up from its perch and glide down to land on Rowan’s shoulder.

Aelin’s voice was breathless when she spoke, “Is that–”

Rowan nodded. “I think it is.” Rowan brought a single finger up to gently pet the bird’s head, it’s color too close to Alma’s blonde waves for it to be a coincidence.

As his finger stopped its motion, a bright light flashed and then there was a familiar weight in his arms. He was shocked into silence as he beheld Alma sitting in his arms, smiling.

“I was hidin’ Daddy!”

Slowly, so as not to startle her, Rowan brought her into the tightest embrace he could manage without crushing her little bones. “I can see that,” he choked out. When he looked up at Aelin, she had a hand over her mouth, eyes wide. She gave him a look that seemed to say, Well, shit.

“Alma, how long have you been able to do that? Turn into a bird?”

“I not just any bird, Daddy! I’s a falcon! Uncle Fen said so!”

“Uncle Fen knew about this?” Alma nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah! He said I should sup’rise you.”

Rowan smiled tightly at his daughter. “Consider me surprised, little falcon.”

His daughter put her tiny hands over her mouth and giggled. The sight made his cold heart melt. But quickly, the severity of the situation overtook him.

“You have to let me know when you’re going to shift, okay? I want to teach you how to fly safely so you don’t hurt yourself.”

“Daddy, you’re bein’ a Buzzard. Jus’ like Mommy always says.”

Rowan’s mouth hung open. Aelin’s cackle could be heard throughout the castle as she doubled over in hysterics.

Eventually, Aelin’s laughter died down and she met his eyes through her tears. I’ll get you back for that, Fireheart.

Mmhm, sure. Not before you murder Fenrys though, right?

Rowan gave a curt nod and pulled his giggling little falcon back into his arms. She placed a tiny hand over the tattoo on his face.

“Daddy, I can’t wait to fly with you! It’s gonna be so much fun.” And with that, she snuggled into his arms once more.

Maybe murdering Fenrys could wait a few more minutes.

A/N: I absolutely loved writing this one and I was squealing from cuteness while doing so 🥹

Tagging:

@cretaceous-therapod @morganofthewildfire @tomtenadia @live-the-fangirl-life @charlizeed @violet-mermaid7 @euphoric-melancholyy @kritical24 @rubyriveraqueen @dealfea @wellofnothing @ayaashryver @moonknight-spector @leiawritesstories @whoever-you-choose-to-love @holdthefrickup @heirofflowers @thecrispypotatochip @shanias-world @rowanaelinn @bruiseonthefaceofhumanity @hanging-from-a-cliff @fantacysoup @swankii-art-teacher @thegreyj @fromthelibraryofemilyj @westofmoon @lovely-dove-zee @books4eva04 @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @backtobl4ck @dreamer-133 @elentiyawhitethorn @writtenonreceipts @shyvioletcat @aelinchocolatelover @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @athena127 @tothestarsandwhateverend @highqueenofelfhame

Babysitter (Final Rose)

“Be careful out there,” Lightning murmured. “Anything that needs your whole team is going to be trouble. If you want, I could...?”

Summer smiled. “We can handle it. Besides, we can’t just dump everything on you and Fang. We’ll be fine.” She nodded to where Ruby and Yang were talking with Diana and Averia. “Just knowing that you’re watching the kids puts our minds at ease.”

“I’ll take care of them like they’re my own.” Lightning nodded crispy. “You’d better get going then. Keep in touch. Don’t be afraid to call for reinforcements if you think you need them.”

Summer said her goodbyes to Ruby and Yang and then vanished through a portals with Raven.

“Okay,” Lightning said. “Who wants lunch?”

X     X     X

It was a testament to the great friendship between Ruby and Diana that the two were able to share cookies without coming to blows. In fact, their friendship was punctuated by all of the different kinds of cookies they’d shared over the years. This particular set was cookies with hazelnuts, chocolate chips, and almonds.

It was delicious.

“Where did you get these from?” Ruby asked as the pair bunkered down in their makeshift pillow fort. “They’re great.”

“Mom made them,” Diana said.

“Really? Where did she get the recipe?” Ruby peeked out of the pillow fort. Yang and Claire ere cackling and brandishing pillows menacingly. She was more worried about Averia. She couldn’t see her, which meant she was probably doing something sneaky.

“I think she used her Semblance to do it.” Diana grinned. “We bought a pack of cookies like this one, and I asked her if she could make some just like them, and she did.”

“Your mom’s Semblance is so cool.” Ruby wished she had a Semblance that could make cookies... and do all the other cool stuff Saviour could do. “Where’s your sister?”

Diana followed Ruby’s gaze. “She’s probably planning something. Whenever we play pillow forts, she’s always planning something. Claire and Yang are just trying to distract us.” Diana handed Ruby a weapon. “Here. You can have this. It’s the Pillow Launcher 2000.”

“Why 2000?”

“Aunt Vanille says you should always add a number to your inventions.”

“Oh. Cool.” Ruby took the weapon. “How does it work?”

“Just point it and pull the trigger. It shoots little pillows.” Diana pointed to the small pile of little pillows beside them. “But you have to reload after every shot. I built one that could hold lots of pillows and shoot them super fast, but after I broke a vase with it, mom said that I had to tone it down since it was making a mess.” She huffed. “I still didn’t win, though. Averia dodged every pillow and whacked me.”

“Your sister has all the big sister sister powers,” Ruby said. “But we’ll get her this time even if it’s two against three.”

“There might be more of them, but we have the fort.” Diana grabbed her own pillow launcher. “We just have to keep our eyes open.”

X     X     X

"Are you going to be okay sleeping in the pillow fort?” Lightning asked.

After a brief skirmish, the five girls had agreed to join forces to defeat the forces of evil. They’d even written a manifesto naming their enemies with particular attention paid to vegetables, homework, and the Grimm.

It was adorable in a way. The girls were so confident in their parents’ ability to protect them from all the troubles of the world that they put Grimm on the same level as vegetables and homework. It was understandable too. Their parents were amongst the most powerful hunters in the world. They could walk into situations that would see the deaths of hundreds of soldiers and walk out without a scratch.

“We’ve got plenty of space,” Yang said. “We even made beds and stuff.”

The fort had steadily grown to consume most of the living room.

“Besides,” Claire said, grinning. “It’s not like Ruby and Diana are very big.”

“Hey!” Ruby stood to her full, not very imposing, height. “I’m not small! I’m...” She trailed off as she realised that she was indeed small next to Claire. In fact, she wasn’t all that much bigger than Diana who was tiny. “I’ll grow!”

“Well, as long as you’re sure.” Lightning peeked into the pillow fort. The girls had done a very good job of constructing it, and the beds they’d put together would be more than comfortable enough for the night. “Just don’t stay up too late.” She glanced at Averia. “Okay?”

“Yes, mom,” Averia replied. She knew, even without Lightning saying it, that she was in charge of making sure that everyone got to sleep at a reasonable time. “We’ll be fine.”

“Good.” Lightning paused. “And if you’re going to tell stories, nothing too scary. I don’t want anyone screaming in the middle of the night.”

Scary stories were all well and good, but there was a time and place for them. She could still remember one sleepover when Yang had decided to tell some stories she’d heard from Qrow. The blonde was absolutely fearless, so the stories hadn’t bothered her. Ruby, however, had spent the entire night clinging onto Yang like a barnacle. Yang had been so regretful, especially when Ruby had insisted that it wasn’t her fault that she’d been so scared.

“All right then.” Lightning nodded at the girls. “I’ll be upstairs if you need me.”

“Mommy is coming back home tomorrow, right?” Diana asked.

“Yes,” Lightning replied. “In the afternoon.”

X     X     X

“How are the girls?” Summer asked. She took a quick look at her reflection in her weapon. Good. She hadn’t missed any spots. The mission had gone reasonably well, but the whole team had still ended up covered in mud and gore. They’d decided to spend a few days in the area just to make sure they hadn’t missed anything, but the worst of it should be over. The quick shower she’d managed to squeeze in before calling Lightning had been welcome, but she’d probably have to hop back in to really get all of the grime off. Still, she hadn’t been able to wait any longer before checking in.

“They’re fine.” Lightning pointed her scroll at the front yard. “As you can see.”

Summer bit back a giggle. Ruby was arguing with one of Diana’s raccoon friends whilst Yang seemed to be playing cards against Claire, a squirrel, and a goose. Averia was practicing something with Fang while Diana went over to mediate the dispute between Ruby and her minion.

“They look like they’re having fun.” Summer smiled. “No problems?”

“They’ve been fine.” Lightning shifted the scroll back to her. “What about on your end? Any problems?”

Summer shook her head. “It was messy, but nothing we couldn’t handle. And before you ask, the worst we had to deal with were some bumps and bruises. We were able to locate the Grimm in charge and eliminate it at the start of the mission. There were a lot of others, but without their leader, they were a lot less troublesome. The local militia here aren’t half bad either. We had to clear the way, but they did a good job offering supporting fire and flanking once we’d established position.”

“Good.” Lightning reached back without looking and caught one of the tennis balls that Fang had been throwing at Averia. The girl was blind-folded and blocking them with a stick. She tossed it back to Fang. “How long are you going to be staying the area for?”

“A few more days,” Summer replied. “We think we got them all, but we want to make sure. With Grimm like this, you don’t want any to escape. Sure, they might not learn anything, but there are those that do, and they’ll be tougher to get the next time. The terrain here is pretty rugged too. We want to do a proper mapping run, just in case we missed anything. It wouldn’t hurt to have a more up-to-date map of the area as well. We’ve already noticed a few things that don’t line up.”

Lightning nodded. “It’s the frontier. A lot of the maps we have are decades old. A big storm or some flooding could easily change things. Sure, we’ve got satellite imagery to go by, but in some places the forest is so thick that you can’t really make out the ground.”

“There has been talk of sending out fleets of exploratory and mapping drones, but some of these frontier settlements have expanded faster than our coverage has. We’ll just have to keep an eye on it, maybe send a few lower-level hunter teams to map things out.”

It was a decent way for lower-level teams or even students to gain some experience, and good maps were invaluable on missions.

“Can I talk to the girls?” Summer asked.

“Sure.” Lightning raised her voice. “Ruby, Yang, someone wants to talk to you.”

X     X     X

Author’s Notes

Hunters look after their own. It is standard practice for hunters who are on good terms with each other to watch each other’s children if family is unavailable. In many cases, hunters will even raise each other’s children if the parents are unable to do so. In Lightning and Summer’s case, if something were to happen to Team STRQ, Lightning is next in line to raise Ruby and Yang.

This is just one of many times that Ruby and Yang (and later their siblings) would spent time over at the Yun-Farron household. Not only are Lightning and Summer best friends, but it is quite possibly the safest neighbourhood in the world since Serah and Snow are next door and Lumina and Vanille live down the road with Sephiroth moving in next door (the other side) around this time too and Jihl and Lebreau not being very far either.

See the thing they never tell you about adding thing to your coffee, is how addictive it is. You start out at the ripe age of 16 with just sugar and that's fine. Occasionally you add in milk and that's fine too. Sometimes you even drink it black and your ex tell you he doesn't know any woman who does that. He dumps you three years later and it's fine. Coffee hasn't left you. It never will.

But then it's not hitting the same.

So you add some pre-made hot chocolate powder and it's like the clouds have parted and angels whose existence is dubious to you at the time sing in beautiful medley of twining voices that brings tears to your eyes. You don't drink it like that all the time because then it loses it's magic.

Then the day comes where you're looking at the tiny bottle of liquid labelled Peppermint Extract. You like peppermint. So you dump some in. That's too much but you've committed to it now. So you suck back the memory of every damn candy cane you've ever eaten. The next time you modify it and it's fine. Little pop of flavour to brighten your day. A treat, if you will.

You don't notice the dissatisfaction the regular ole multiple teaspoons of sugar has now.

Eventually you get the bright idea of adding hot chocolate powder and peppermint in at the same time. It's delicious, but now as you finish off the cup, licking the last traces from your lips, you know. You've gone too far. The idea of flavour has taken your heart in its twisted hands in a firm grip, but ever so gentle because if it kills you, you cannot delight in this pit of your own that it sits over as Lord.

The flavours don't stop. The coffee bar at the local 7/11 has flavoured syrups. The siren call of new flavours sounds in your head like a warning gong of silver bells. Several pumps of hazelnut flavour with one or two of the vanilla. There's hot chocolate in your coffee too.

You run out of hot chocolate powder eventually. It's fine, there's cocoa powder. You make do. A little more sugar is all it needs. But then what's that beside the cocoa powder? A large bottle of glimmer dark liquid. Vanilla extract. In it goes. A memory of a soft blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you stare out at the snowdrifts that cover your yard while nibbling on a freshly baked cookie. You nod in satisfaction as you finish your coffee. Like the memory, the coffee is good.

The final step is raiding the basket of baking supplies with the sprinkles and such. You find what you're looking for. The closest thing to a Holy Grail as you'll ever see. Almond extract. Lemon. Butter. Buttery Vanilla. Your hands close on the rum extract and it's added to your most recent cup of coffee with the vanilla extract.

thanks for the coffee hcs! any chance you could do la squadra as well? - 🍸

La Squadra Coffee HCs to match the others! Thank you tiny martini anon!

Risotto - Usually he's just a plain latte guy. Milk, espresso, foam. Then holiday drinks roll around. It doesn't matter if it's Starbucks or the tiniest mom and pop hole in the wall Italian cafe, if there is a Special Drink he will order it. This does result in the gang leader of La Squadra Esecuzioni ordering a Valentine's Day Dark Chocolate Raspberry Mocha, but is anyone gonna mention it? Is someone going to stop Risotto Nero from doing this? Illuso (carefully) asked about it once, after seeing Riz with a gingerbread latte with a tiny gingerbread man cookie on the rim of the mug. All he got for an answer was "Festive." Let the man have nice things.

Prosciutto - Pour overs. Slow, methodical, traditional. He's got his own pour over filter at home, and that's fine and all, but when the gang is on a schedule, they can't take time to pour hot water over ground beans for ten minutes. They're almost like a little comfort drink, a sign when they can take the time to rest and sit and think instead of being on alert. But only the best of coffees deserve a pour over - Kenya AA, Jamaican Blue Mountain, Kona, and similar high-end beans.

Pesci - No espresso for this guy, but that doesn't mean he gets left out! Steamers are his go-to, usually with something like vanilla or caramel, but he will occasionally indulge in the forbidden syrup flavors. Prosciutto tends to give him a hard time about it, steamers are on the "kids drinks" section after all, until Pesci makes him try one. Hazelnut steamer is Prosciutto's favorite if there's no good pour overs.

Illuso - Illuso usually opts for tea, but if he had to get coffee it has to be a light roast to minimize the dark bitter coffee taste. He low-key thinks he's 'better' than the others for not liking coffee and having a more ReFiNeD pAlLet than the others. This bothers exactly none of them.

Formaggio - He has the least refined pallet of La Squadra, and quite frankly doesn't really care. He gets whatever's cheapest on the menu and adds some sugar and milk. It's boring and he likes it that way.

Melone - I used to have a regular customer who worked across the street at a bookstore. He would order four quad shots with an inch of cream in each of them, every day. The moment we saw him crossing the street we would have to start pulling shots. The cream completely negated any sort of heat and complexity the shots had. After months of making these I asked him if he brings them to his coworkers, or (heaven forbid) puts them in a fridge for later, or what. This guy leans in, tips me a $20, says "wouldn't you like to know~?" and leaves. That's Melone.

Ghiacco - He knows way too much about coffee for his own good. Life would've been so much easier if he hadn't learned that French and Italian Roasts don't come from France and Italy. He loves the super dark oily Italian roasts though, which means he will bicker with the barista about it until he gets his drink. Ultimately this is all a good thing, because he'll be nursing that coffee for hours and can't very well shout and yell with something in his mouth.

Eight Second Ride

Part Three-

(Part Two)

“So you are telling me-“ Aedion scowls from the other side of her bed, “you ditched me for a sweaty bull rider and didn’t even last an hour into the date?”

Aelin shoves a spoonful of cookies and cream ice cream into her mouth and sniffles. “That’s all you got from my story?”

He slings an arm over Aelin’s shoulders and she lays her head on his chest gratefully. She’d caught an Uber back to her apartment where Aedion was already camped out waiting for her.

One look at her mascara smeared face, and he’d made a pillow fort on her bed. Complete with ice cream and “Little Women” playing on his phone.

“No, I got the whole chauvinistic asshole, bit.” Aedion stabs his spoon into the container and breaks up a particularly large piece of Oreo. “I just decided to focus on the part that doesn’t make me want to leave you hear and go and kill him right now.”

“I thought cowboys were supposed to be classy.” Aelin watched Jo play with her sisters in their attic on Aedion’s tiny screen. “Take city girls into the country to ride a horse and show them a bigger purpose in life, kind of shit.”

“Hallmark is such a liar.” Aedion huffs and squeezes her shoulder a little tighter. “I’m sorry, Lin. I know going out tonight was a big step for you. It’s a shame he acted the way he did.”

It was rare Aelin acted on a whim these days. Not like she used to do when she was in high school. She felt a pull to go with Rowan, but her gut had led her into a situation that could have gone south very quickly.

It’s a hard thing when you can’t trust yourself.

“No. I shouldn’t have gone. Especially not alone.” Aelin’s feels her thoughts drifting. Creeping towards that iron box of memories she keeps locked tight. “It’s my mistake.”

“No.”

The fervor in Aedion’s voice draws her attention up to his face, and Aelin is jarred by the intensity of his expression. “Aedion-“

“It’s not your fault.” His voice is gravely, and his blue eyes flicker like the heart of a flame. “I don’t give a shit what that bastard thought you accepting his invitation meant. You don’t owe him sex because he buys you a drink.”

“Aedion-“ Aelin tries to interrupt again. A new wave of tears burns her eyes, but Aedion is on a roll and he isn’t going to quite down until he gets out what’s on his mind.

“You don’t deserve to be treated like an object that can be bought.” Aelin can’t look him in the eyes any longer, but a calloused hand guides her face to the crook of his neck.

“His friends are shitty. He should have made them shut up. Ogling you, and making you feel unsafe and uncomfortable aren’t funny jokes.” Aedion goes on as Aelin sniffles into his shirt.

“You deserve respect. It doesn’t matter what you are wearing, what he buys you, or what his expectations are. His behavior isn’t your fault.” Aedion whispers against the top of her head.

Aelin wraps the arm that isn’t squished under her, around his waist. “I love you, Brother Wolf.”

“I love you too, Fireheart.” Aedion kisses her forehead and tugs her closer, the old terms of endearment are exchanged between them with ease.

“I know you are still dealing with everything that happened a couple years ago. I’m happy to remind you how worth it you are whenever you need.”

Aedion was an island of safety in the turbulent ocean of her life. Even when Aelin was small, she’d often go to him before her own parents with her problems. He was steady, and calm. The exact opposite of her own personality.

After the incident, he hadn’t rested until she was safely at his side again. Aedion stood by her faithfully as she picked up the broken pieces of her life and held her hand as she tried to make something new from them.

“How come you already had this movie downloaded onto your phone?” Aelin teased lightly, trying to lighten the mood. “Did you suddenly develop a sense of taste?”

Aedion purses his lips. “Lysandra said this movie is, and I quote, the most accurate depiction of the female experience.” He shakes his head. “I’ve tried to watch it three times, and I still can’t figure out what it’s even about.”

“You are a simple minded creature, cousin.” Aelin grabs her spoon and scoops a melty bite of ice cream into her mouth. “Thank you for coming over.”

“Anytime, Lin.” He leans his cheek on her head as the scene on his phone shifts from the cooler grey tones of the present, back to the warm colors that represented better days. “Anytime.”

~~~

The day started off better than she expected.

Aedion was gone when she woke up- he had to rise at an ungodly hour to make it to the fire station on time.

Yet, he set her alarm clock for her so Aelin woke up in time to get ready for work. He’d also set a glass of water and an Advil tablet on her bedside table to curb the headache she was sure to have from crying.

Aelin made it out the door with enough time to stop and get coffee on the way. She even splurged and got a chocolate hazelnut Frappuccino with enough sugar to smooth her wounded feelings.

It was going so well, Aelin should have known it was the universe winding up to screw her.

It was only a couple hours before she closed shop when Lorcan Salvaterre stepped through her front door.

“Holy shit, it’s you.” Were the first words from his mouth. His dark eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Rowan is going to flip when I tell him I actually found you.”

“What are you doing here?” Aelin’s slammed a stack of books on the counter.

Lorcan looked pensive. “Rowan said you mentioned owning a book store-“ he drags a hand through his dark hair. “I felt like I ruined his chance with you, so I thought I maybe if I apologized-“

“Let me stop you there,” Aelin didn’t bother looking at him as she labeled books and organized them into stacks. “You didn’t ruin anything, you didn’t help, but he screwed up all by himself.”’

“He realizes that,” Lorcan quickly defends, his voice gruff with irritation. “If I can give him your number I’m sure he will grovel for himself.”

Aelin rolls her eyes and slides another stack to the end of the counter. “You don’t get it.”

“Get what?” She can tell he’s losing his patience with her. Lorcan’s remorse only went so far, apparently.

Aedion’s words from earlier rang in her ears as she repeated them back to the man. “He was overbearing the entire time. Had double standard opinions about my life, and disrespected my boundaries.”

Aelin watched as Lorcan shifted on his feet, itching to say something but obviously refraining. Measuring his words carefully he looked her dead in the eye. “Look. He was just trying to impress you. Rowan doesn’t go out often. Don’t you think you are blowing this a little out of proportion?”

Red. Aelin saw red. Tasted it. Like iron in her mouth. Or maybe that was just the blood from biting her tongue so hard. “I’m working right now. You don’t strike me as extremely literate, but I have to ask for you to either buy something or leave.”

Lorcan glowered at her. “Fine.” He turns to walk out, but Aelin hears him call her a bitch under his breath.

Just then, Elide walks inside the shop doors. A backpack slung over her shoulder, finished with her classes at Rifthold U and prepared to work the evening shift with her.

Aelin is relieved for the interruption and about to take full advantage of it, when the small, brown-haired girl catches sight of Lorcan and beams like a rutting lighthouse.

“Lorcan! I didn’t know you were coming into my work, what a surprise.”

Elide. One of her best friends, runs up to the six-two tower of misogynistic cow boys and flings her arms around him. Hugs him.

Ellie she recalls the name being thrown out last night. She hadn’t put two and two together. Ellie was a common name. Of all the people in this city it had to be Elide, Aelin mentally bemoans.

She wonders if Elide knew how her cowboy behaved when she wasn’t around.

It doesn’t matter. Lorcan is all too aware of Aelin’s eyes boring into his skin, and knows he needs to make a quick get away.

“Ellie,” Lorcan pulls away from her. “I just had to see this book shop you are always talking about.”

He kisses her head, and looks at her with feigned remorsefulness. “I must have gotten your shifts mixed up in my head, though. I’m afraid I have to go. We booked a training time for six and I need to brush down Nettie before we start.”

“Oh,” Elide says, a look of genuine disappointment on her face. “That’s fine. Are we still on for a movie tomorrow?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he promises. He pecks her one more time on the lips and tips his chin towards Aelin. Anger still bubbling in his eyes. “Good day, ma’am.”

Aelin releases a breath when the doors close behind him.

“I’m so sad I missed him.” Elide frowns, tossing her back pack behind the counter. “At least you got to meet him. What did you think? He’s absolutely dreamy, right?”

Aelin chokes back a gag. “Yeah. He was really charming.”

“And get this,” Elide smiles. “He’s a cowboy. Like an actual, real life cowboy. He rides pulls and does team roping. It’s sexy.”

Aelin can’t hide the grimace this time. “You are like my baby sister. I never want to hear the words sexy from your mouth again.”

At least, never in the context of Lorcan. They’d had plenty of boy talk before.

“He even carries a rope.” Elide wags an eyebrow. “Better to tie me up when we-“

Aelin holds a book over her face. “I’m not listening to this! I will file a report with HR.”

Elide laughs. “You are the boss, Lin. You know we don’t have an HR.”

“I need to get one now,” Aelin grumbles. “I don’t need an image of yours and Lorcan’s naked asses in my head.”

She wanted Lorcan out of her head entirely. Along with Rowan and the rest of their cadre.

“Fine,” Elide sighs wistfully. “One day you will be in love and I won’t hold it against you when you want to talk about whatever babe you wind up with.”

Her eyes get a mischievous glint. “Actually- Lorcan has some really cute friends. I could set you up with?”

Aelin’s brain banks. “No. No thank you. I like being alone. I’m more than enough company for myself.”

“Come on, a double date would be fun!” Elide whines and tugs on her arm. “You never go out any more. We could have a great night out.”

An image of the twins cutting lines on the bar flash across her mind and make her shudder.

“I said no, Elide.” Aelin says a bit more harshly then she intends, but Elide gets the point and backs off.

“Sorry. I won’t mention it again.” Instead of anger she looks at Aelin worriedly.

She kind of hates that more.

“Thanks.” She shakes her head and tries to clear the residual stress from her head. “I have to set up a new shelf display. Want to help?”

Elide lights back up at the prospect. She loved designing and organizing. They have a great time setting displays up together and Aelin knew it would take her mind away from the tension she’d created.

She just really hoped that Elide dating Lorcan wouldn’t drag any drama into her own life. Aelin didn’t care what half asses excuses Lorcan made, she wasn’t interested in seeing Rowan again.

Hello! I’m so glad I got this posted today. 😂 I’m hoping to get the next chapter of DRNS out tomorrow. After that, my birthday is next Tuesday and I reaaallly want to do a mass update of all my fics then as a hooray to 21. (Yes. That is what I’m doing for my 21st 🤣) Hope you enjoyed it!

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The Distance Between Us

Elriel Month - Day 10

The Distance Between Us

Somewhat NSFW

They are private people.

Some say that they are shy, some deem them quiet. They view him as distant. They see her as placid. What no one understands is that the only thing that matters to them is each other. The world falls away, and then it’s just them.

For the two of them, there is no distance. Nothing to be crossed, nothing to walk and nothing to climb. They are always together—mind to mind, body to body, thoughts and wants and desires, all amalgamated into one cohesive thing that is their love.

They eye-fuck each other everywhere, unabashed. They linger at the table, feigning interest in conversations happening around them, pretending to participate. Across the dinner table, they stare at each other, his hazel eyes dark and stormy with his need, and hers like melting chocolate, beckoning. She bites her plush lip, taunting him, and he seriously contemplates closing the distance between the two of them in one stride, one desperate leap, and sprawling her on the table, company be damned.

If the conversation is tense, they sense each other’s discomfort and send a loving glance of encouragement to the other. Sometimes, he winks. A mischievous little wink that eases her discomfort and binds her to him, to his unshakable solidity, to the great muscular mass of him that anchors her. A crowded room feels empty save for the pair of them.

At times, it’s a brush of scarred fingers against her own. It reminds them of how they used to be. How they’d close the distance with the briefest of touches. Now she knows the glorious feel of those fingers on her naked body, on every part of her, in her mouth, her sex, against her worshipping tongue, over her swollen nipples, yet the simplest of brushes of fingers to fingers still sets both of them on fire.

They travel. They explore hidden gems of Velaris, or winnow to friendly Courts, the Shadowsinger and his delicate beauty of a fawn. She charms and smiles and entices and with him by her side, all Courts are open to them. They love to travel together, no distance too great for their explorations. It’s hazelnut ice cream at Day Court, it’s white sandy beaches of Summer Court, where she swims naked in the amethyst waves, only for him to see. There are only a few parts of Illyria that he likes, but he takes her there, where they both fish for trout and pike, and unfailingly, she screams with delight every time a fish bites. They roast the fish whole, over coals, making love out in the open, while waiting for it to cook. Dawn Court is famous for its sweet, succulent melons and they buy a few at the market, before returning to their tiny room, which they always rent when they are here. There is nothing but a bed here, in which they spend the entire time they are there. The windows are open, the noise from the street below so loud, it feels like they are outside. He feeds her melon slices, licking the sticky juice off her breasts, never even pausing his thrusting. Neither care that her moans of pleasure are heard outside—perhaps the ruckus on the street muffles them, but they don’t care either way. He was surprised to find out that she was a bit of an exhibitionist. Fine by him. The Shadowsinger is in love.

Even when they are apart, they are still together, forever connected by an unbreakable, untarnished, completely organic string of their love. But the coming together is always uniquely special. He sees her on the balcony of their villa, when he flies back from a mission and knows that she’s home, waiting for him. She watches him land and stupid tears of love prickle her eyes, because he is home, and now, so is she, because he is her home.

Her Starfall gowns dazzle him every time, without fail. They are sharp, cut to her body and the lines are clean and polished, and he stares, and stares and stares. She smiles at him, knowing his thoughts. She is always there first, on the terrace, and everything around them stops when she closes the distance, carrying a flute of champagne for him. “My love,” she greets him, her eyes devouring the sight of him, as she hands him the flute. He waits all year to watch her cross the distance and call him ‘her love’.

"ive never felt like this about anyone before!" with terasaka and nagisa?? (or just karmagisa if ur uncomfy with that! :>)

Pairing: Nagisa Shiota/Ryoma Terasaka

Genre: Romance, Fluff

Word Count: 1,588

A/N: Aww this is a cute pairing! I decided to go the classic route of confessing with chocolates UwU. Also ft. BFF/wingwoman Kayano!! I really like the honest simplicity of Nagisa and Terasaka’s relationship, and I hope I conveyed that well.

Before joining 3-E, Nagisa never really thought of himself as unpredictable. He’d always been a simple guy, with not many quirks. Maybe a bit of a wallflower, even. He liked observing others and the nuances of human nature. He liked seeing how other people could be surprising. 

But then 3-E happened, and he kept receiving constant praises of his “natural talents.” How stealthy he was, how he took down Takaoka, how he kept on shocking his classmates and teachers with his capriciousness, etc.

Nagisa couldn’t help but enjoy the attention, although he tried his best to hide it. But truth be told, he still saw himself as a simple person. And a part of him preferred it that way, seeking out some normalcy in the midst of his transformed life. 

And now, as he stood in his kitchen, eyes wide at the countertop covered with a dozen different ingredients, he was wishing he’d been more unique after all. 

Chocolates on Valentine’s Day? How unoriginal, he sighed internally. 

Nagisa reached for his plain navy apron and looped it over his head, the fabric tickling his nose. He tied the straps behind him and took a deep breath, eyeing the gourmet bar of 80% cacao he’d purchased.

Before he could linger on his doubts and call off the entire thing, his best friend (and baking partner) returned from the bathroom. Kayano bounded into the kitchen with a grin on her face. “Sorry for making you wait, Nagisa. I just had to take care of a small hair emergency!”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Nagisa quickly reassured her with a smile. He glanced at her dark messy bun, fondly recalling the old quirky jade pigtails he’d grown used to for an entire year. “Thanks again for helping me out, Kayano.”

“Of course!” she replied, skillfully tying on her own butterscotch apron. “What are friends for, if not helping you make chocolates because you’re a hopeless mess in the kitchen?”

Nagisa laughed and stepped back to give her room as she started examining the ingredients. “Yeah, I would’ve destroyed my kitchen. Cooking is one thing, but I’m not good at baking...and I’ve never made chocolates before.”

“That’s fine. They’re pretty easy to make, once you get past the beginning,” Kayano assured him with a smile.

They fell into comfortable conversation as they worked through the recipe. Nagisa’s clumsy hands nearly made a few mistakes, but Kayano was quick to assist him. Eventually, they stood by and waited for the chocolate to melt over the stove, with Nagisa continuously stirring it.

“I really appreciate you helping me. Seriously, that’s so nice of you. Let me know if there’s anything I can help you with.”

He paused then quickly fixed his words, stammering. “I-I mean, you can ask for anything at any time, of course! I just meant to return the favor, you know?”

Kayano laughed. “Relax, Nagisa. This is nothing compared to what an awesome friend you’ve been for me. You don’t owe me anything.”

He frowned slightly. “But…”

She hummed in thought. “I guess I am pretty curious to know who you’re giving them to, though? But only if you’re comfortable sharing!”

There was a brief silence, only the stirring of the liquid chocolate filling the air between them. 

“Nagisa…?”

“Terasaka-kun.”

“Huh?”

He sighed with a smile. “I’m making these for Terasaka-kun.”

“Really?” Her eyes widened. “Aww!”

Nagisa winced at her high-pitched squeal then smiled at her acceptance. “You’re not surprised?”

“Not really,” she admitted. “You guys have always had a very sweet and trusting relationship.” 

Nagisa felt his face heat up. “You think so?” he asked quietly, returning his gaze back to the pot.

“Yes, I do,” she smiled. “They say the best relationships always do come after one of you nearly blows the other up, anyways~”

He groaned as she laughed. 

Another stretch of comfortable silence passed and soon, they were onto decorating the chocolates. Nagisa watched in awe as she delicately laced the top of the rich chocolates with a caramel icing. 

Finally, it was his turn. He carefully made a tiny flower design with the hazelnut icing tube. “You know…” he began.

“I’ve never done anything like this before,” he admitted quietly. “Making chocolates...confessing...I never acted on my feelings or was proactive.” Nagisa’s eyes were trained on what he was doing, but he could feel Kayano’s gaze on him.

“But...the way I feel about Terasaka-kun. With him. Around him…” A small smile etched onto his face. “It’s such an intense, engulfing feeling. But at the same time, it makes me feel lighter than air.”

“I’ve never felt like this about anyone before.”

The next day was Valentine’s Day, and Nagisa swore, he never heard his own heart beat so rapidly before in his whole life. 

He had texted Terasaka that morning to meet up somewhere, under the context of borrowing a book. The five minutes in which he’d awaited a response were the most agonizing he’d ever felt. Was he being too obvious? Terasaka responded positively though, with a short “yeah ofc. see u later.” Nagisa had fallen out of his bed in relief.

Now he was standing outside the local library, clutching onto his schoolbag. He was still in his uniform, and he bet Terasaka would be as well since school hours had just ended. 

Valentine’s Day had been uneventful for the most part. He’d gotten friendship chocolates from most of the girls in his class, a completely platonic gesture. Nagisa made a mental note of who he would give gifts to on White Day, to return such a kind gesture. Outside of that, he’d just watched in amusement at some of the antics going on around him. Chocolates being given by the hundreds to popular boys, confessions going wildly wrong and descending into chaos, fangirls, all the like. 

“Yo!” His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a familiar voice. Nagisa jolted up at the sight of Terasaka making his way towards him. The object of his affection was uniform-clad in a rather neat manner, with his school bag slung over his shoulder, wearing a fond grin once his eyes locked with Nagisa’s.

Nagisa felt his stomach tighten, as if a bunch of knots were tied inside. This is it… “Hey,” he greeted with a smile, waving to the taller boy. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too,” Terasaka replied warmly, slowing to a stop a couple feet in front of him. “How’s this crappy holiday been for ya?”

“Heh, pretty boring,” Nagisa chuckled. “Like always, I just get friendship chocolates from the girls in my class.”

“Really? That’s still cool.” 

Nagisa hummed. “What about you?” He asked, instantly dreading the answer.

Terasaka laughed lightly. “I got some from the squad as a joke, and I’m completely fine with that.”

“Oh, haha.” Nagisa felt a weight lift off his chest at the response, and his grip tightened on his bag.

Terasaka frowned slightly at him. “You okay? You’re acting a little weird.”

Now? Nagisa questioned himself. Now feels right…

Finally making his resolve, Nagisa chose not to answer verbally. Instead, he quickly opened his bag and pulled out the decorated box. He opted to go simple, rather than the ornate boxes he’d seen people give. It was a small square shape in a deep crimson color, topped by a golden bow. 

“Terasaka-kun…” Nagisa let out a sharp breath he was unaware he’d been holding. He lifted his gaze to meet Terasaka’s, and offered him a genuine smile.

“I really like you. And I made you these chocolates.” He extended his hand holding the box. “Will you go out with me?”

A tiny part of Nagisa’s mind, within his conscious, was blown away at his actions. He was seriously confessing to his crush. With homemade chocolates. Is this for real?

But Nagisa was nothing if not honest. And that extended to even himself. 

A second had passed and Terasaka gently took the chocolates from him, a warm look in his eyes that made Nagisa melt just a little. His lips were curved into a rare smile of faded surprise and contentment.

Finally he spoke, his voice like honey, full of affection. “Of course I’ll go out with you, stupid. I like you too.”

Nagisa’s chest swelled with joy. He smiled stronger than he ever had before, a rush of emotion passing through him.

Terasaka’s attention had shifted to the box in his large hands, and he tugged the bow off. “You made these yourself?” He sounded curious.

“Yes...but with a lot of help from Kayano,” Nagisa admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of his short hair.

Terasaka laughed as he opened it, picking up the one that Nagisa had decorated with a flower. “They look awesome.” He plucked it into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. His eyes soon lit up. “Woah, they taste great too!”

“Really?!” Nagisa asked excitedly, feeling a bit of pride. 

“For sure.” Terasaka nodded with a grin that soon turned shy. He averted his gaze slightly, his face pink. “Thanks for making these for me…”

“I’m glad you like them,” Nagisa said somewhat absentmindedly, his attention focused on how cute Terasaka’s shy smile was.

His thoughts were interrupted by Terasaka suddenly leaning in closer. “Wait uh…” His crush’s face reddened even more. “...Can I kiss you?”

Nagisa felt his own face flush as he nodded. 

The kiss was simple and sweet, yet filled with strong genuine emotions. It was almost like a representative of their bond. 

And Nagisa wouldn’t have it any other way.

Between Part and Meet - Trio

Fandom: Kingdom Hearts Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ephemer & Player Character & Skuld (Kingdom Hearts)

***

“Do you have a reservation, kupo?” the Moogle at the host stand asks you.

“Um, yes, I think so,” you say. “It might be under Ephemer?”

The Moogle scans through the list and nods. “You’re the first to arrive. Come this way, kupo.”

Feeling a little out of place, you follow the Moogle to a comfortable-looking booth with a frosted window overlooking the streets of Daybreak Town. You slide into the booth and are handed a menu and a bundle of utensils. “Can I get you anything to drink while you wait, kupo?” the Moogle asks.

“Um, just water is fine,” you reply a bit distractedly. The Moogle nods and floats away, leaving you to glance over the menu.

You’ve always been the early one when meeting up with Ephemer, and often when meeting with Skuld, too. It just feels nicer being early than it does being right on time or late. But this is the first time the three of you are meeting up outside of the clock tower, and not at anyone’s home. You hope they aren’t so busy with Union leader stuff that they forget about your plans together tonight at this restaurant.

You’ve even dressed up for the occasion – not too much, of course, but you’re not just wearing your usual mission clothes, either. Chirithy had helped you pick out your outfit and had been patient as you tried on different articles of clothing until you settled on this one.

You glance at the menu items without really reading them. You haven’t eaten at a restaurant in ages. So long, in fact, that you wonder briefly if there are any etiquette rules you might have forgotten. The Moogle comes back with your glass of water and you glance around at the other restaurant-goers. Many seem to be eating together in pairs, you realize. There’s a rather rowdy group of friends in a corner near the door, and a table of people who seem to have finished their food long ago and are just sitting and talking. That seems nice, you think. Just having somewhere to sit and talk with your friends.

There’s a tap on your shoulder and you look up with a jolt, then relax as you recognize the smiling face of Skuld. “Hope I haven’t kept you waiting long,” she says, sliding into the seat across from you. “Ephemer’s on his way too, but he told me to go without him in case you came early so you wouldn’t be sitting alone. We both guessed you’d be the first to arrive.”

“Typical,” you say, waving your hand dismissively. “But – wait I didn’t get a good look at you before you sat down. That’s a really nice shirt! Can I see the whole outfit?”

Skuld’s smile is radiant as she shimmies out of the booth to stand so you can see the whole outfit. Her usual skirt and zippered top are traded out for a lovely top with a high neckline and high-waisted pants. She’s even tied her hair into an elegant updo, though you can see that she hasn't traded out her familiar star-shaped studs. “You look wonderful!” you say. “I’m flattered you’d take the time to put your hair up like that, too. Did it take long?”

“I got Lauriam to help, actually,” she says, sitting back down and turning her head so you can admire the delicate twists of her hair. “He’s got all kinds of weird skills like that. He walked past me trying to do it myself and offered to help, and well, here we are.”

“He seems like a pretty interesting guy,” you say, propping up your cheek on your hand. “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to help him with his little sister. Have you found out anything more about her?”

“Not yet, I’m afraid.”

Just then, a Moogle comes by with another water for Skuld. “Need a bit more time before you decide, kupo?” they ask, and you both nod in unison.

“I haven’t even looked at the menu,” you admit, pulling it up in front of you again. “Is there anything you recommend?”

“Hmm…” Skuld muses, running a finger down some of the options. “I’ve heard they have good spinach dip. And that their pastas are huge so it’s good to share.”

“Those both sound good. We could all get something different and try each others’, too.”

“I hope you two haven’t ordered without me.”

You look up from the menu to see Ephemer, smiling broadly. He slides into the booth next to you and you look him up and down to take in his outfit. Of all things, you’re most surprised that his red scarf is nowhere in sight, though he’s wearing a collared shirt that’s a similar shade of crimson. He’s even tucked his shirt into proper dress pants. His sleeves are rolled up, though his usual gloves are gone, too. It’s a rather nice look on him.

“Wow, Eph, you really cleaned up,” Skuld teases, leaning across the table.

“Excuse you, I always look this dashing – I just have specific wardrobe choices I like to keep to. Gotta maintain a certain aesthetic.”

You grin. “You look really nice. Your hair’s even less poofy than usual.” And it’s true, too – his normally chaotically curly hair is surprisingly tame today.

He turns to you and raises a hand to lightly pat at his own hair. “It took a lot more effort than I usually put into it,” he admits. He takes a moment to look at your own outfit and smiles. “You look pretty nice, yourself. Really nice, I mean. It suits you.”

You find your face growing warm at the compliment and hide it by directing everyone’s attention to the menu again. “So, what are we eating? Skuld and I were thinking we could each get something different to share.”

“Ooh, I like that,” Ephemer says, rotating the menu to read it better. “Can we share some of these appetisers first, maybe? And then get a bigger meal.”

You gesture across the table. “Skuld was just saying the spinach dip is supposed to be good. And the pasta portions are really big.”

“Okay, let’s do the spinach dip then, and maybe two of the pastas?”

You and Skuld both nod in agreement. “Sounds good.”

Just then, a Moogle comes by with a third glass of water for Ephemer and asks, “Does everyone know what they’d like to order, kupo?”

“Uh… I’ll let you guys each pick a pasta,” you say, and they both quickly study the menu. “We’ll have some spinach dip to start.”

“Let’s go with this… noc… no-chee and sweet potatoes pasta,” Ephemer says, and you chuckle under your breath as you look at the entry he’s pointing to on the menu.

“The sweet potato and hazelnut gnocchi,” you correct, and Ephemer looks a bit bewildered as he studies the word again, one eyebrow raised.

“Oh that sounds good, okay, and then how about this smoked salmon alfredo for the second pasta,” Skuld says to the Moogle, pointing at the menu before handing it over to them. “We’d like to split them so if you could just bring us a couple of side plates that would be excellent.”

“Understood, kupo. Can I get you anything else to drink?”

Ephemer suddenly looks hopeful. “Do you have milkshakes?” he asks in an unusually small voice.

Though it’s hard to understand Moogle expressions, you think this one might be smiling. “Chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry milkshakes, kupo.”

“I’ll have a vanilla milkshake, then,” he says.

The Moogle nods. “I’ll be back with it soon, kupo!”

Skuld shakes her head at Ephemer. “A milkshake, huh?”

“I’m always up for ice cream,” he says. He bumps your shoulder with his own. “Wonder what a sea salt ice cream milkshake would taste like.”

You shrug. “Probably much the same as the ice cream itself. Sweet and a bit salty.”

“Do you think ice cream is hard to make? It seems like it would be.”

“Can’t say I’ve ever tried it. Might need a special machine or something. I’m not sure how it gets so fluffy.”

“If it’s anything like whipped cream,” Skuld chimes in, “I bet it needs a lot of mixing.”

In short order, Ephemer’s milkshake is delivered. He takes an eager sip from the straw and lets out a satisfied “ahh” before he pushes it towards you. “Want some?”

You take a sip yourself. It’s wonderfully creamy and vanilla-y. “Yum,” you say, licking your lips.

Ephemer offers his drink to Skuld in turn and she takes a small sip. “Oh that is good,” she says. “Now I almost wish I’d gotten one, too.”

“Excuse me!” Ephemer says abruptly, stopping a nearby Moogle who was passing by your booth. “Could we get two more milkshakes?”

“What kind would you like, kupo?”

“Wha – Ephemer, I don’t actually need one–” Skuld splutters, reddening under the Moogle’s expectant gaze.

He shakes his head at her. “Just go for it!” he says. “You may as well while we’re here.”

“Um, one strawberry milkshake,” you say politely. Ephemer grins at you and Skuld sighs before giving in.

“Okay, and one… one chocolate milkshake.”

“Got it. I’ll be right back, kupo.”

Skuld stretches her arms out over the table. “I shouldn’t let you guys convince me to buy things I don’t need,” she says.

You shrug. “I think it’s good to treat yourself, too. If you only ever bought things you absolutely needed you’d have nothing to look forward to.”

“I was just going to say you should buy milkshakes because they’re delicious but that sounds much more reasonable.” Ephemer takes another sip of his milkshake. “Soo good.”

Skuld leans against the back of the booth. “True. On both accounts, really.”

The Moogle returns with your requested milkshakes and you take an eager sip of yours. “Oh the strawberry flavour is so nice,” you say, sliding it along the table to Ephemer. “Try some?”

Skuld takes a sip of her own drink and smiles. “I mean, it is good. Here, try mine too.” You swap drinks. The chocolate has almost a hint of bitterness to it, and it, too, is very tasty.

The three of you make small talk until your spinach dip is delivered not long after. You scoop some of the warm cheesy dip onto a piece of toasted flatbread and blow on it before taking a tiny bite. It’s very hot, but also pleasantly creamy and flavourful.

“So Ephemer,” Skuld says as she scoops some of the dip onto a piece of bread, “can we talk about how you’ve never seen the word ‘gnocchi’ before?” You snort with laughter, suddenly remembering.

Ephemer is indignant. “I have seen it before! I’ve just never had to say it aloud!”

To Ephemer’s credit, it’s not an easy word to understand the pronunciation of, but it’s too fun to tease him like this. “Do you know what gnocchi is?”

“I do! It’s like little potato pasta things. Isn’t it?” He suddenly seems a bit unsure of himself and looks to you for support.

“Yeah, that’s pretty much right,” you laugh, taking another bite of your appetiser. “How did he say it again?” You turn to Skuld. “'No-chee'?”

She grins and Ephemer ducks his head slightly under the pretense of taking another sip of his milkshake. You can see that his cheeks have gone a bit pink. You pat his leg under the table. “Aw, it’s okay, sunshine. We’re just having a bit of fun. I think the Moogle knew what you wanted, anyway.”

He leans his head against your shoulder in mock grief. “All I wanted was some pasta.”

You pat his hair gently. It’s extremely soft today, perhaps having something to do with however he got his curls to look more tame. You reach forward to grab another piece of bread to dunk in the spinach dip and Ephemer sits back up so he can help himself as well. The appetiser wasn’t too big, and it’s just enough to satisfy your hunger a teeny bit until you get the pasta dishes.

“Oh, I meant to tell you,” Skuld says, pushing the dirty plates off to one side so she can reach a hand towards you over the table. “I finally saw Brain make food today. Or well, not really make food. But I did catch him eating some hard-boiled eggs? So I assume he made them himself.”

“Oh good, proof he actually does eat sometimes.” You trace your thumb over the back of Skuld’s hand. “I wonder if he ever goes out to eat. Do you think he hoards food in his room?”

She looks thoughtful. “Honestly the only places I ever see him are in the control room, in the main meeting room, or in his own room. So I can’t imagine he just heads out on the town to buy food very often.”

“I don’t know if that’s true,” Ephemer adds, propping up his cheek on his elbow. “He left with Lauriam one time to go somewhere in Daybreak Town. I don’t know if they went shopping, exactly, but they went out to do something .”

“Maybe the reason he always leaves fighting monsters to the rest of us is because he never has any energy due to lack of food.”

“Does he drink coffee?” you ask, trying to think if you’d seen him with a mug or a cup of anything the last time you’d been at the clock tower.

“I… don’t… think so? He might. There isn’t a coffee machine in the common kitchen area though, so he’d have to have it in his room.” She looks at Ephemer. “I don’t know if I’ve ever even seen him have a glass of water when he’s working.”

“Oh, no, one time I offered him a cup and he was scandalized. Told me off for even thinking of putting water anywhere near all of the computers. Which I guess kind of makes sense. We often have a bunch of papers all over the desks too so it would be bad if we spilled something on them.”

“Hmm,” you say, tracing along a dark line in the wood of the table top with your free hand. “Do you think it’d be weird if we tried to get together and have a meal sometime? Like, all the Union leaders. Or would that be extra weird to have me along since I’m not really part of the leaders…” You trail off, wondering if you’ve overstepped.

Skuld squeezes your other hand reassuringly. “No, I think that sounds great! I love your cooking. We could all try to pitch in and have a potluck, maybe!”

“Yeah that sounds excellent!” Ephemer agrees, nodding. “I’m always up for good food.”

“You’d have to make something too,” you point out. “It’s a potluck.”

“I can make food!” he insists. “You two have no faith in me.”

You and Skuld exchange a grin. “I’ll believe it when I taste it,” you tease.

Your food arrives just then, and you let go of Skuld’s hand to clear a space in the middle of the table for it to be set down. Both pastas are steaming and look wonderful. The Moogle places some extra plates down as well and picks up your spinach dip dishes to take away while another Moogle comes by with a cheese grater.

“Can I offer you some Parmesan cheese, kupo?” they ask, and Ephemer eagerly offers forth the smoked salmon dish.

“Yes, please!” he says, then looks to you and Skuld to confirm this is okay. Skuld shrugs and nods and you agree. The Moogle grates a nice little pile of Parmesan shavings onto the pasta and departs.

“Oh I am so ready to dig into this,” Ephemer says, unwrapping his fork from the napkin and scooping some of the nearest pasta onto his plate.

“Skuld, what are these little green things?” you ask, patting Ephemer’s arm so he can pass you a plate as well.

She inspects it for a moment. They’re about the size of peas but darker and a bit more leafy-looking. “Ohh these are the capers,” she explains, and pops one into her mouth. “Yeah. They’re like tiny flower buds.”

“Huh. I don’t know if I’ve ever had them before.” You scoop some of the pasta onto your dish and spear a caper experimentally on your fork before putting it in your mouth. “Hmm. Kinda salty? It’s good though.”

Skuld nods. “It goes well with the salmon.”

“Gonna try some of the no-chee?” you tease, gesturing to the other pasta plate.

“Yes I find I’m rather fond of no-chee,” she laughs and helps herself to the gnocchi. Ephemer makes a pouty face at the two of you but says nothing, his mouth full of pasta.

You take a sip of your strawberry milkshake – nearly done – and scoop some of the gnocchi out onto your plate as well. The hazelnuts give it a pleasant, earthy flavour along with the sweet potatoes. It’s a nice combination. “Good pick, Ephemer,” you say after swallowing your mouthful. “Might have to try making this sometime.”

“I might not know how to pronounce it, but I can still appreciate good food,” he says with a grin.

“Oh hang on, there’s a plate of garlic bread here, too,” Skuld says, moving the pasta dishes aside to put the plate in the center of the table. “Aw and there are three pieces even though we just got the two pastas, that’s nice. Okay, everyone gets one.”

The garlic bread seems to have been made from a rounded bun of sorts, and it’s wonderfully crispy on the flat side but fluffy and soft on the rounded side. “I might have to just order a basket of garlic bread the next time I come here,” you say after you’ve devoured your piece. “That was excellent. ”

Skuld drags her straw around the edge of her glass to get the last of her milkshake. “I think all the food we’ve had has been excellent. I’d come back.”

“I’d like that,” Ephemer says after swallowing a mouthful of food. “I mean, I just like eating food with you guys.”

“Is it because you don’t want to cook for yourself?” Skuld teases.

“No! I just like having familiar things.” This isn’t a particularly surprising sentiment coming from the boy who’d eaten the exact same flavour of ice cream with you day in and day out for nearly a year.

“Maybe we should try different places each time,” you offer. “You know. In case we find other foods we really like.”

Ephemer falls silent as he considers this but Skuld nods. “I like that. And then if we have a favourite place we can always come back to it.” She looks to Ephemer for agreement.

“Yeah… okay. When would we go? Once a week?”

Skuld shakes her head in surprise, glancing at Ephemer. “I don’t know if either of us can consistently set aside that kind of time. Maybe every three weeks? We can always try to get together on the off weeks, obviously. We just wouldn’t be going to restaurants.”

You feel a little twinge of sadness at the suggested schedule – surely Skuld and Ephemer will be seeing each other a lot more often than you’ll be seeing them in between meetups – but… well, any time you can hang out with them is good. “That’s all right by me,” you say.

“Great, it’s a plan. Ephemer and I will figure out a day that works best and let you know as soon as we can.”

Unexpectedly, you find yourself trying to avoid their gazes and look down at your plate under the pretense of trying to scoop a hazelnut onto your fork. It’s fine that Skuld and Ephemer have Union leader stuff to do. Obviously. They’ll let you know as soon as they’re free. “Yeah, sure.” The words feel uncomfortable in your tight throat.

Luckily, Skuld doesn’t seem to notice. You chance a glimpse up at her and she’s back to eating the last of her pasta. Ephemer bumps his shoulder against yours and smiles radiantly and you wonder if he noticed your reaction. You do your best to smile back and quickly turn away, picking up your near-empty glass of strawberry milkshake as though you think you can get more ice cream out of it. It’s fine. You’re fine.

“Well, that’s all for me,” Skuld declares, setting down her fork. “Ephemer, you want the last of the gnoc – ahem – the no-chee?”

Ephemer rolls his eyes at her. “Sure, I’ll finish it. You want any more before I take it?” he asks, offering the plate to you. You shake your head and he scoops the last of the gnocchi onto his plate. “Excellent.”

You lean against the back of the booth as well. “I’m full too. That was really yum.”

“I might have to try making gnocchi one of these times,” Skuld says thoughtfully. “I don’t think it would be too hard. Don’t you just cook the potatoes and then add some flour and stuff?”

You shrug. “I’ve never tried. You might have to cook it after you mix everything together, or maybe you can just use it in a dish as soon as you’re done, I’m not sure. I’d want a recipe before I try making it for the first time.”

Ephemer puts down his fork at last with a satisfied sigh, pushing his plate away from himself. “I mean, if you two want to cook no-kee then I wouldn’t complain about trying it.”

“Gnocchi,” Skuld corrects offhand, smiling, “and I’m sure you wouldn’t mind eating free food, huh?”

“I’m just saying, I wouldn’t pass it up.”

A Moogle comes by to pick up your dirty dishes. “Can I interest you in any dessert, kupo?”

Ephemer looks longingly at the dessert menu but you and Skuld both shake your heads. “I’m really full, but thank you,” you say.

Ephemer sighs. “Me too. Maybe next time though.”

The Moogle nods. “And how would you like to pay tonight, kupo? All on one bill, or separate?”

“Oh, uhh…”

“One bill is fine,” you interrupt. The Moogle nods and leaves.

“How much do I owe you?” Skuld asks, digging in her bag, but you shake your head.

“Don’t worry about it,” you say. “I’ll get this one. Then we’ll just have to go out again so you guys can pay me back.”

“Are you sure?” Ephemer asks, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, don’t sweat it.”

He slumps back in his seat. “Well, okay then.”

You pat his leg. “It’s my ploy to get you guys to hang out with me more,” you stage-whisper, ostensibly joking but also secretly hoping that they really will make sure you go out at least once more together.

The Moogle comes by with the bill and you hand over some munny, thanking them for the lovely meal. “I guess we should head out,” Skuld says, looking around. “It’s pretty busy so we shouldn’t take up an extra table.”

“Yeah, that’s… of course.” You glance at Ephemer and he slides out of the booth to let you out too. The three of you wind your way around the tables and out onto the streets of Daybreak Town.

“Thanks for the night out, you two,” Skuld says as the restaurant door closes behind you. She pulls on a motorcycle jacket on top of her fancy outfit, making it look more casual, but also somehow more… Skuld. Ephemer rolls down his sleeves but otherwise doesn’t seem as bothered by the cool breeze. Typical.

“This was really nice,” you say, stretching your arms out in front of yourself. “Thanks for coming.”

Unexpectedly, Ephemer pulls the three of you into a hug. “I’m glad things worked out that we could all meet up again,” he says.

“I… yeah, me too,” you say, wrapping your arms around the two of them. You’re not quite sure if he means he’s glad you could meet up tonight or if he’s grateful that, after all that has happened, despite being separated, the three of you managed to end up in the same world. You're glad for both, in any case.

“Well, I guess we should be off,” Skuld says when you break apart. “Do you want us to walk you home?”

Yes. “No, that’s all right,” you say. “I live in the other direction, anyway. I’ll see you guys soon!”

They smile and wave at you as they turn to walk in the other direction. You walk boldly through the streets, not looking back until you’re sure they must be out of sight, then sit down on the curb on a small side street. “Lucky?” you call tentatively.

Your Spirit companion poofs into existence beside you in the form of the fluffiest pink dog you’ve ever seen. They crawl up into your lap and their pink tongue laps at your chin. “No, no, it’s fine, settle down,” you say, pushing them down. Lucky quivers in your lap, their tiny tail thumping against your knees. You stroke their head softly. “I just needed a hug. And I didn’t want to let Chirithy know. You won’t tell them, will you Lucky?”

Lucky’s pink tongue lolls out of their mouth for a moment as they pant, then they lay their head down on your arm and look up at you with big eyes. You run a hand along their fluffy fur absentmindedly.

“I just… I think I get jealous of Skuld and Ephemer hanging out? I don’t know if that’s what it is, exactly. I just know I feel upset when I think about them hanging out without me. And I know a lot of it is unavoidable – obviously they’re both Union leaders, so they’re going to see each other around the tower and have Union leader meetings and stuff. So it’s stupid to get upset over it. Right? I feel like I’m just bringing the mood down because I want to spend time with them, too.”

Lucky’s quiet in your lap and you continue to stroke their fur. “I don’t want them to feel bad, either. I know they already feel bad enough for keeping things from me about the Keyblade War and all that. And I really, really want things to go back to normal.” You sigh deeply and Lucky’s tail starts to wag again. “Yeah, okay, we can go home,” you say, ushering them off your lap. Their shape changes to that of a little wolf, like they want to protect you as you walk home. You reach down and pat them between the ears. “Thanks.”

*

Ephemer turns to look back at you as he and Skuld walk in the other direction towards the tower, but you’re already partway down the street, confidently strolling away. “Did you think… did you think Peach seemed a bit troubled back there?” he asks.

“Just now, you mean?” Skuld asks, turning to him in surprise. “No, not really. Did you?”

He shrugs. “I dunno. I just thought they seemed a bit sad about something.”

“Well, we can ask the next time we all get together. Make sure they’re all right.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I hope we’re not too busy this week.”

***

Find Between Part and Meet on AO3! It updates every other Tuesday. This is the first chapter out of 6. I also have several other KHUx fics there under theworldthatneverwas, so be sure to check them out if you enjoyed this one!

Fic summary: You, Ephemer, and Skuld are back together again in Daybreak Town, but adjusting to normal life after the Keyblade War is easier said than done. And with Ephemer and Skuld so busy with their Union leader duties, what will it take to build this friendship up to weather any storm?

If it’s meant to be - Bucky x Reader Ch.5

Summary: You and Bucky are at the restaurant; things get a little heated when you get back to your apartment to say goodbye; Steve and Sam found some more evidence on Rumlow with Natasha’s help.

 Warnings: Swearing, implied smut, kissing, mention of an assassin

 Word Count: 2033

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 We finally get to the restaurant, I forgot how stupid crazy the traffic is in New York, Bucky opens the door for me.

“Thanks Bucky.” I said smiling as we walk into the restaurant, he smiles and goes up to inform the waitress about our reservations.

“Right this way.” She said walking us to a table excluded by the wall. We thank her while we start to sit, Bucky pulls out my seat and then sits me down.

“I heard this place as the best food. Get what you want love.” Bucky said smiling at me. I look over the menu and find INSALATA Invernale, which is Winter Harvest Salad of Sunchoke, Sweet Potato, Caramelized Pear & Spiced Nuts. Very good, it’s three course meal. So that will be my first course of the three. My second course would  have to be LASAGNE all'Amatriciana, which is Baked Pasta Layers with Guanciale, Tomato & Peperoncino, and my three courses would have to be TORTINO alla Gianduja con Gelato al Latte di Nocciola Piemontese, which is Chocolate Hazelnut Cake with Piemonte Hazelnut Milk Gelato.

“Good evening Mr. Barnes, what can I get for you started with.?” The waiter asked looking at Bucky,

“Let the miss first, I’m still decided.” Bucky said while smiling at me, I look up at the and smile

“I’d like to do Insalata Invernale, then the second would be Lasagne all’Amatriciana, and lastly Tortino alla Gianduja con Gelato al latte di Nocciola Piemontese.” I put my menu down and look over at Bucky, his face and the waiters face are so surprised that I have said all of that in one breathe without messing up any of the words. Bucky tells the waiter to make it the same, the waiter grabs the menus and walks away.

“When did you learn to speak Italian?” Bucky asked looking at me

“I took a few classes in my college years, I’m getting my masters right now in Literature. I just love the language in other counties and Italian always stuck out to me. I love the culture and the language.” I smile back. We talked for a good hour or so over our dinner, Bucky seems to be really interested in everything we were talking about, when I brought up my family history he seemed to be a bit sad since I never had a good role model since my parents worked all the time.

“So, are you ready to head back?” Bucky asked paying the bill. I smile and nod, we grab our coats from our chairs and start to head out. We get back to my apartment and we are talking outside before we part ways.

“Thank you so much for tonight, I am glad I know a little bit more about you. Your mother and sister sound like a delight. I hope to see you more, I know it’ll be hard before of your job.” I said putting some hair behind my ear. He smiles at me,

“Pleasure was all mine doll, hopefully you can some more of my friends and my family when the time comes.” Bucky says bring my hand up to kiss my hand, I blush at his gesture.

“Well, thank you. I must get ready for bed I have an AM class tomorrow. Good night Bucky.” I said smiling while unlocking my apartment door. I look back one more time to see him smiling at me and walking away after I closed my door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky gets back to his house to see Sam leaning against his door frame.

“Hey man, Steve and I got more entail about Rumlow. He’s a regular at The Rum House. We got to get to the safehouse, we have more planning to do.” Sam says leaning up to stand up straight looking forward toward Bucky. Bucky nods and unlocks his apartment to grab a few items for the meeting, the poison they bought off on of their allies, a Glock 19, and his black leather gloves.

“Let’s go, I got everything I need.” Bucky says locking his apartment back up. Sam and Bucky get into their tinted black SUV. They started on their way there when Sam sparks up a conversation.  

“So, how was your date with Y/N. Is she anything like Natasha?” Sam asked looking at the road still.

“No, she is way different, in a good way. She does have a feisty attitude like Nat, but god damn her personality is so innocent and sweet. I am definity going to corrupt her, she going to be mine for good.” Bucky says with a slight smirk on his face. He can see it now, that he’ll have her on knee begging for him to face fuck her. Her begging him to show her what a mod hitman can do to make her feel good.

“Damn, hopefully she doesn’t run away from you like Dot did. The bitch was terrified when you brought her home and she found out what you do for a living.” Sam says parking the car in the driveway.

“Sam, she knows what I am doing for a living. She said if I don’t bring her into the line of fire to get her involved then she doesn’t care. I found my soul mate and she doesn’t care about how I make my money. She also supports me for what I do.” Bucky says looking at Sam while they exit the car. Same snorts at the reply.

“It’s funny, because you are bring her in the line of work. Remember plan A dumbass.” Sam said snickering as they enter the house. Bucky was soon to see how far he can stretch her trust with this one. He doesn’t want to lose her right away because of this incident. He needs to tell her asap and make sure he can do it. He won’t let anyone touch his girl.

---

“Alright, do we know what we are doing?” Tony says looking at his people.

“Yes sir.” All his man agreed, Tony smirks looking at all them with a nod.

“Okay, we attack tomorrow. Barnes, make sure your girlfriend is working so we can assignat him that way, or you’ll be the one killing him later, on your own.” Tony says looking in his direction. Bucky nods and Tony dismisses everyone to get prepared for tomorrow events.

“So, when do  you plan on telling Y/N about needing her assistant in this.” Sam said while walking about to SUV with Bucky.

“I’ll have to send her a text, she’s asleep right now. She has class tomorrow morning.” Bucky says pulling out his phone.

‘Hey doll, I am going to pick you up tomorrow after school. I need to discuss a few things with you. Had fun tonight, sleep well love.’ Bucky sends and puts his phone on his pocket getting into SUV. A few minutes later he feels his phone vibrating rapidly in hid jean pocket. He gets his phone out and looks at the caller ID.

Y/N

“Hello?” Bucky answered.

“Hey sweetie, is everything okay? I just woke up to potty.” Y/N answered with a yawn.

“Oh, well yes everything is okay. I just have a huge  yet tiny favor to ask you.”

“Okay, what is it? “

“I’d rather ask you in person, instead of over the phone doll.”

“Okay, if you want, you can come over now. My AM class got canceled so I am free until I have to go to work at 5 tomorrow.”

“You want me to. . . Stay the night?”

“If you want, we can watch Netflix or Hulu and hangout. I have some food here if you’re still hungry after we dinner that we have 5 hours ago.”

“Sure, I’ll come. Let me go home first and grab a few things.”

“Alrighty handsome, I’ll see you when you get here.” Y/N said as she hung up the phone. Bucky smiles lightly at his phone, his smiled fades when he hears Sam chuckle beside him.

“What are you laughing at punk?” Bucky asked

“You, dumbass, you are so pussy whipped it’s funny. But hey, I am glad you found your soulmate.” Sam said nonchalantly. Bucky grumbles and looks out the window till they get to his apartment.

“Alright bub, we are here. Stay sharp tomorrow and you may have to convince Y/N a little. If you know what I am.” Sam said wiggling his eyebrows. Bucky rolls his eyes and gets out of the SUV

“Be safe Sam, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Bucky said walking inside the apartment complex he lives in. He gets into his apartment and packs a bag to stay the night and his Glock. He wants to be safe then  sorry if something happens.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I start getting everything set up for my little sleep over with Bucky. I decide to get a little dressed up for him. I slip on my silky shorts and a loose silky tank top to match, I put my hair in a nice top knot bun. I slipped on my troll pink socks. I try to look halfway decent before he came.

Knock. . . knock. . . knock. . .

I smile and walk to my door and open to see Bucky smiling back, I just met the guy and he is giving hella butterflies. I gesture him to walk in my apartment, I lock it behind him and grab his hand lead him back into my room, he looked surprised to see popcorn, and Hulu on the screen.

“If this is too much, I can do something else.” I said looking up at him. He smiles down at me,

“Doll, this is fine. It’s perfect, what are we watching?” Bucky asked taking in my outfit I was wearing,

“Safe Heaven, my favorite chick flick. It reminds me of my past relationship I had with a guy.” I said going over to my bed and patting a spot for him to sit next to her. They start the movie, and getting comfortable cuddling when it starts, Bucky noticed in 30 minutes after the movie started that I start get sleepy.

“Hey love, can I ask you that favor for tomorrow?” Bucky asked

“Whatcha need handsome?” I asked brushing some hair out of Bucky’s face.

“It will help me out in the long run. . . I have been ordered to assassinate Brock Rumlow. He is Hydra, one of the leaders. I was wondering since he comes to your bar every Friday and Saturday if I come sneak a poison into his drink to kill him. It’ll be slow kill him, he will on the streets when it fully kills him. Can you do that for me, I’ll be at your bar with you. I can sneak it to you, I won’t be asking if I didn’t have any other way doll.” Bucky asked boring into my eyes. I stare at him a moment, not sure if he’s serious or kidding.

“Wait. . .  Are you serious Buck? What if I get caught with it? I don’t want to be fired or put in jail. . .  How would you do it.” I asked Bucky takes my hand and kisses my knuckles.

“You won’t get hurt or go to jail. I’ll be in a small bottle that can be hidden easily. You just pour it in and stir it in. it’ll be flavorless, so he won’t taste it. Please Y/N, I hate to ask but there is no other way.” Bucky says looking deeply in my eyes about it. I thought for a minute.

“Fine.”

Fine? You’ll do it?”

“Yes, just one condition.”

“Anything doll.”

“I want you to take out someone for me. Simple, and your reward can be me.” I said seductively in his ear. He smirks and kisses me gently.

“Anything for you babe.” Bucky says smiling looking back on the TV.

Fanfiction

TVD AU

Pairing - Elejah

One shot

smutty, 18+

🐰🌼

"It was a great party. Caroline really is like the hostess of the mostest" Elena said as she walked to the house, sliding the key in the lock.

"She surely is" Elijah said. "I know now why you said that her Easter Parties are legendary"

"Yes - but you have seen nothing yet." Elena said taking the rabbitt ear headband off, "Nightcap? I promise no Chocolate cream Bailey's eggs"

They both now laughed as they thought of the party and the overflow of Bailey's.

"I'd love a nightcap" Elijah said, his eyes locking playfully with Elena's.

"Come in then" Elena smiled bashfully as she opened the door.

Elijah followed the doppelganger in the house.

"I have - wine - and - Bailey's." Elena now produced the bottles out of the cupboard.

"I think I'll pass" Elijah said.

"Yeah - I had already too many Bailey's - sorry - no Bourbon" Elena said putting the bottles down on the table.

"It's fine -" Elijah said with a little nod, staring at Elena, a small smile danced up on his lips. "Maybe I should go"

"Really?" Elena gulped, disappointment lacing her voice.

"No - but -"

"Then stay -" Elena stepped closer.

They now stood inches away from another. Their eyes glittering with desire, bubbling in their veins.

"I want this" Elena breathed in, her eyes trailing down to his lips and then to his eyes.

He needed no further convincing. Everything inside of him craved her for a long time. Pulling her gently by the waist, his lips captured hers in a soft, deep kiss.

Breaking up, Elena took him by the hand, walking them up to her bedroom.

As clothes were no hindrance anymore, Elijah gently pushed Elena back down on the soft mattress.

The Original's strong hands glided down the doppelganger's body with tantalizing slowness, making her burn with an entrancing fever under his touch. With a hot wave engulfing her, panting uncontrollably she pressed herself against him.

"Lijah- I - want you - now" Elena breathed heavy in his ear.

Elijah licked his lips, curling a sweet lustful smirk as he faced her.

"Your wish is my command" his eyes smiled.

Capturing her mouth in a fervent wanton kiss, his hand reaching her core, swiping over folds lightly with his fingertips.

The doppelganger shuddered, feeling his finger push in, teasing her nub with slight flickers of his thumb.

With every movement the heat spread further in her belly like a wildfire.

Abandoning her lips, he dipped his head down, taking one nipple in his mouth and then the other, tugging at her with velvety strokes of his tongue, exuding shallow breaths from the brunette, who arched her back in shuttering pleasure.

His own need for her began to throb deeper within him as she writhed so deliciously under him. He saw her eyes squeeze shut, clamping her thighs over his wrist, the muscles on her tight quivered and then tensed up, coming hard.

Pulling himself up, he kissed her last whimpering gasp.

Exchanging a tiny twinkle between them, Elena wrapped her arms around his neck, tugging him into a kiss.

Positioning himself between her legs, Elijah hooked one of her legs up, pushing in slowly, both gasping in unison.

She slid one hand on his shoulder, the other slowly stroking his back, from the nape of his neck to the base of his spine as they moved rhythmically, making him grunt against her mouth.

"You feel so good - Oh, I missed you." Elijah breathed, meeting the warm daze of her hazelnut eyes.

As his thrusts gained a steady tempo, her nails grazed lightly over his back, clamping her legs around his waist, driving him further into her until their bodies were sliding together.

Not long after, they both shuddered, blissfully suspending in the air, as their orgasm washed over them.

Rolling aside, the Original pulled Elena to him, placing a sweet kiss on her nape as she snuggled up to him.

"This is an Easter celebration I will not forget" Elena joked a little as she beamed up at the Original.

"Neither will I. Happy Easter" Elijah said pulling her up into a kiss.

‘icy secret‘;

➵ genre: fluffy fluff, i guess-

➵ pairing: ice prince! jaemin x knight! reader.

➵ warnings: none, just probably a bad writing sorryhbfvbgj

summary: “wherein y/n still struggles on denying the heart inside to burn through the breastplate.”

➵ songs rec.: ice queen - baekhyun ; moonlight - wavycake feat. navy, nathania.

[5:19 PM]

tiny snowflakes touch the fresh ground through your walk besides captain of guard! jeno with the more you get closer to the castle, both of you coming back together exhausted from your daily training, in the time he so called as "when afternoon waves goodbye".  you kept your footsteps by his side steadily marching, just as you tried your best all the time to pay attention to what he was saying, about things that made him glad in today's exercises and fight simulations with the knights, but it was barely impossible for you to control your mind which kept on flying away, filled with thoughts of the prince — about yesterday when he sneaked in all disguised through your window at the dorms, for the fourth time this month, with his big white cloak full of gold details and his breathtaking, dazzling smile. you remember about his eyes just like the luck of hot chocolate and hazelnut in the winter, in contrast to his long, icy lashes hitting the snowy white skin, as inviting as his husky but soft like vanilla petals voice, calling you to go out with him on another adventure to the other side of the river which bordered the castle area. this time on the pretext of wanting to see the newly arrived auroras with what he claimed to be a "truly competent" one to protect him.

— at first you refused, saying that even if you were there to accompany him whenever he wanted, you were afraid of it ending up like the last time when you two almost got caught. but it didn't take long for him to convince you with his sweet requests and large hands covered by gloves holding yours, nervousness mingling with sweat between your fingers by the way he squeezed them all the time unwillingly to let go. soon you were already running outside tripping a little as he guided you extremely excited on the secret path you two always went for and just before you think both of you were already under the auroras, surrounded by the beauty of them. "how... beautiful." you let out, looking around completely amused, trying to even touch some of the dancing lights passing by, but stopped embarrassed as soon as you realize the prince's wide pearly smile, who somehow was trying to capture the colored rays in a glass but had stopped to watch you, his extremely fluffy white-blond hair just like sunbeams hovering over his forehead, innumerous fanciful ideas coming to meet him under it. “did you know you can get on a higher beauty level than theirs? i bet they must be jealous now.” he whispered playfully, cold air coming out from his rosy lips, chuckling while only a stutter sound came out of you in response, heat all up your cheeks at once. "i want to show you something. come with me.” you followed him, wondering why he went behind a rock where there was nothing but some pieces of grass with flowers and another part of the river, even more so when he just stood still and began to take off his gloves, asking you to hold the crystalline pot with auroras. “this is my secret, which will as well be ours, ok? everyone in the castle already knows but, i want you to keep it for me too.” you nodded vehemently although not having any clue of what it could be, promising loyalty to the overflowing gaze deep into yours. suddenly you saw the prince's hands get both filled with brilliant designs going up to his nails as soon as they got exposed, his skin had turned translucent as ice and snow smoke came out of it, all while your jaw simply was left dropped with the sight, eyes widened in pure wonder as you watched him shocked. the prince then made a cold breeze which took the pot from your hands and blew your hair lightly, as if stroking it and slowly smiled a little awkwardly when he noticed your stunned, practically speechless expression at what you saw, and without delaying asked what you thought of it, a small hint of fear in his tone for some possible rejection. "it's, it's... simply wonderful... just like fairytale- how, how do you-??" you stuttered, earning another soft giggle from the prince who got to feel relieved seeing the way you wanted to touch his hands, curious. “i don't know, i guess i was just born like this. but yeah i also think it's nice, like a super power. do you wanna see what it can do?” he said excitedly, a certain mischief taking over his tone, what immediately made you want to decline the offer, but as curiosity consumed your heart you accepted smiling. then just before you knew it you two already had two huge flake-decorated ice forts, snow angels on the floor, sculptures and handmade giant slides, both of you laughing loudly running after each other with countless snowballs, him of course with his own. so far you can't forget how much fun you had that afternoon, less even it’d be like that, one more time next to the prince — just while he was showing you some things he could do with his special ability, such as when he froze temporarily a part of the river to teach you how to skate, when he made ice arrows for target shooting or the high ladder across the oak to see more of the pink-tinted horizon, you also played, jumped, ran a lot, and even fell like two children in their blooming childhood, without caring a single bit about the world around. yet you also couldn't forget the way he looked at you that kept on making your heart flutter so much, the downy touch of his cold fingers when he complied your request to draw some flakes on your face, or especially when you were both already tired and he called you to sit beside one of the forts, saying he wanted to show you one more thing. “can you give me your hand?” he asked extending his own, holding your hand by its back when you gave it. you watched him carefully as he began to draw lines on your palm with his thumbs, making a small snowflake in the shape of what looked like a heart. your eyes kept watching every move of his until you couldn't help but get them widened to see him out of sudden take the small form by your hand and kiss it, but before you said anything you noticed it made the little thing shine and levitate over your palm, just like a star. “woah- i, i can't believe you can do that too!” you exclaimed with a giant smile taking over your lips, the prince as well grinning all happy as he saw you trying to play with his creation. "of course! where do you think all the decoration in the palace comes from, hm?” he smiled playfully again, you immediately looking at him surprised at what he had just said — so this is was how the castle always kept covered with really thin snow and absolutely stunning, delicate details and iced arts, monuments, chandeliers, flowers, and designs you always admired and thought they looked more like actually made by some millennial fairies than built by human hands, just like it was also why jeno sometimes complained about how his best friend from the royal court spent so many mornings on one of the castle's rooftops for no reason or explanation. again you looked at him speechless, disconcerted by how incredible he was, as if it wasn't already enough to be so brave, righteous, kind, exceptional in practically every combat and sword fight, a strong and exemplary prince and leader, also owner of a fantastic ability, besides being able to make your heart run countless marathons in the simplest actions, just as in that moment. “it's for you. i hope you’ll like it, and you’ll remember me every time you look at it. just as i do remember you every day.” he let out in such soothing words like an embrace. just in time you turned your gaze back to him, again not believing what you had just heard, but before anything you’d do in response he sighed lightly and leaned in to you, touching his velvety lips on your cheek in a kiss which lingered a little until he pulled away, sighing again as soon as your eyes met, asteroids and comets crashing into the vast skies that were his pupils. —

almost immediately as you bring your fingers to the spot on your cheek he touched you feel it flush, your pulse barely to explode just by thinking of the simple but tender contact. quietly you let out a deep breath while you put your hand in the pocket of your red tunic underneath the breastplate to remove the glowing heart-shaped gift, your thumb a little shaky holding the object that didn't get out of your hands through the entire sleepless night before yesterday, passed with just the image of the graceful boy in your mind. “y/n? planet earth calling y/n?” you hear jeno's voice abruptly bring you back to reality, worry in his expression until you shove the small form back to your pocket and turn your face to him, eyes wide as you get startled, making him let out a sigh of relief. “you know, i think you should stop reading about astronomy for a while y/n, it's already the millionth time this month you go out of orbit.” he laughs amusedly, showing up his so characteristic, gorgeous eyesmile. you look at your best friend still bewildered, but soon smile at his silly joke, reaching your hand out to ruffle his golden hair based with an undercut. “you little goofy- and you now turned into my control tower to bring me back all the time." both of you laughed at the same time, jeno even more when you started tickling him, running to the side to try to get away from you. "but yeah i'm sorry, i really didn't pay much attention... my head has been indeed full lately." “it's fine, i was just blabbering. i just wanted to understand what goes on in your head, seriously. you even look like jaemin staring at nothing and giggling alone." jeno laughs again, shaking his head in disbelief, not realizing you froze beside him when he mentions the prince's name, a wave of thoughts hitting you again and nervousness coming all up. "don't worry, it's nothing... i-it's just the training stuff, of this tough knight routine..." you try to build an answer, shaky words coming out. "i know, i know i understand you perfectly. and you know you can count on me whenever you want, that i'm always here with you, right? afterwards that's what friends are for." he said, a warm smile now taking over his face along to his hand going to rub your back, making you relax and smile back, comfort filling your chest. "thank you jeno. im always here for you too." you pat him on the back, adjusting his sword which was falling a little. "tomorrow on the way back home i'll buy you that fried fish stick you like so mu-“ "and as i once said and repeat y/n my buddy you're such a wonderful being, just tell me if ever there's someone bothering you and i‘ll come quickly to throw one right, one left, ha!" he exclaimed cheerfully, simulating a fight with his silver sword giving kicks and punchs in the air at an invisible enemy as you laugh nonstop watching him, jeno doing just so. “y/n! jeno! thank god i found you two! i, i need help! arf..." right in the time you and jeno get interrupted hearing someone call out loud, almost breathless. soon you see royal advisor! renjun coming close as if he had just run a marathon, so both of you immediately go to hold him by his hands so he wouldn't get dizzy, worried about what could be happening. “what happened, renjun?! are you ok? where‘s the prince? wait, take a deep breath-" “i, i'm ok, it's all fine, it‘s just that, just... aH no, no nothing's fine! he ran away! he ran away again! just because the lord was going to bring the new clothing for tomorrow's ceremony, aHh but when i catch him-" you try to calm renjun down while he fists and simulates punches, jeno already going back to laugh nonstop just by imagining the kind of situation familiar enough going on, having in mind some of the prince's typical tricks. “no need to explain anything anymore, i already got it- ahh jaemin i swear to god-" “but, but what‘s going on?? i can't understand anything." you ask. “don‘t worry y/n it's nothing, just another episode of the prince giving daily headache to his royal adviser.” jeno tries to contain his laughter, hugging renjun by the side who was now much calmer yet still a little upset. “it‘s just that, he always does this, y/n- he always runs away when it‘s time to choose the linen and colored pieces for any upcoming special occasions, he says he doesn't like them because they're just ridiculous and that he doesn't need them, that he feels so much better in his usual weekly clothes he‘s always wearing to do practically everything and that always comes up with some smears of whatever possible on it, and simply goes like this every time right in front of the ancients council! then there always lasts for me the noble women's commentaries, about me not teaching him things right so this is why he does what he wants- aHh but this time i can‘t admit it! that's why i was looking for you two everywhere so i'd ask you to help me find him and bring him back." renjun explained sounding kinda sulky, jeno going forward to squeeze his cheek lightly and you smile nodding with your head to sign to him you did understand everything, not even much surprised since it all just fits the prince so much. “alright then, let‘s look in separate parts. y/n goes to the gardens at the west, renjun goes to the surroundings of the castle and to the adjoining areas at the east, and i go to the chambers, galleries, throne centre and all of the rooms where he usually goes. if we don't find him after all we shall go to the city entrance and meet there to enter together, ok? let's go, before our injunnie start malfunctioning." jeno explained his plan, all of you saluting like a real team as he went for renjun's neck and ruffled his hair, the shorter brown haired boy complaining in his own adorable way while you giggle to yourself watching them walk to the opposite direction, a high blow of confidence raising up your chest. you adjust your belt and tighten your knee pads, then getting ready to stick a step forward filled with attitude when suddenly two gloved hands cover your eyes, causing your shoulders to fall along to all your courage and nervousness take over. "but who-" "guess who it is." you feel your heart begin to pound crazily again at the sound of that voice, air hitching in your throat feeling how close it was to your ears. "p-prince?" almost at the same time he sighs a little and gently removes his hands from your eyes, going in front to look at you, his long, flavescent cloak moving in the process. "hey... i remember i've said you don't have to call me like that. i just want you to call me by jaemin." he did a light frown and pouted cutely as he played with your hands, what makes your stomach flutter immediately. "a-ah yes... pardon me your highne- i mean, j-jaemin" you stutter, seeing his face soon lighting up again, his charming smile shows almost like a cupid's arrow ready to hit. "you know, if you want you can also call me by jae, or nana. it'd make me really happy too- oh and please come with me, there's something i really wanna show you." he said, pulling you by your hands again, just as excited as in that day. "what- wait!" you try to process his words but as always before you could ever do anything you were already running beside him, letting the prince once more guide you, now on a new route apparently to the outer staircases of the palace. "renjun, jeno and i were looking for you! you shouldn't have run away, what are you going to say to him now? you, you have a ceremony tomorrow and he's afraid thinking of how you're going to look there." you said apprehensively, hearing him chuckle like a carefree young boy in response, giving your hand a little squeeze as you continued to go through the stairs steps. "don't worry about that it's all ok, i'm fine the way i do everything, renjun just worries too much but im sure he'll understand it soon. i've told him several times how important it is to not to pay attention to people's comments all the time and just be yourself. he knows if it weren't for that he'd probably still have his biological restoration ability inactive till now." he talked through both of your paces slowed down by the weariness of the stairs, your own mouth now agape at what he had just told. “renjun can… heal?!” you let out, jaemin nodding with another smile, melted with the innocent way you asked. "yes. actually it was because of him my lungs didn't end up literally frozen once in my childhood... we owe each other's lives in fact, so that's why for our friendship too, i can never leave his side. just like i can’t from yours..." you feel comfort in your chest again as you listen to him until the material inside it stops for a second when you realize his last sentence, and you could swear you've clearly seen reddish hues blooming in the prince's so niveous face when he looked away at the same time he said it. later on he hastened his pace a little to where the stairway led, then out of stopped, saying you were already in the exact place, which was nothing more than the inaccessible rooftop at one of the farthest points of the castle, as in the moment you set your foot there you couldn't help but feel just the same way of when you came close to the auroras at that day, completely enchanted. “oh my… god.” you exclaimed, grinning widely as your eyes light up with fascination seeing each of the beautiful works around you — paintings, small sculptures, handcrafts, various forms, many colored by auroras and several other shining ones like the one he gave you, everything made of snow and ice, organized like real stars in a sky studio. "remember when i said that thing, about the palace's decoration? i was thinking and, wanted you to know the place where i do what i like the most on earth, since you showed me the knights' training camp before..." he said hiding his hands in his pocket, you watching and trying to touch the pieces one by one, the prince's frosted lashes yet only focused on your reactions he cherished so much. "i think i'm in heaven." you take one of the little forms in the shape of a levitating cotton cloud in your hand and look at him smiling joyfully, his eyes sparkling perhaps as much as yours when he looks at you like you were so precious as a rare gem, what made you blush violently in the second you noticed it. he then smiles disconcertingly at you, some snowflakes coming out of his mouth while he coughs a little and covers it with his hand trying to hide his already reddened face again, looking to the side at something that caught his attention. "there's one more thing- you need to see." he exclaimed quickly, pulling you with him to another part ahead where you came across a wide view of the whole kingdom covered by the warm shades of the sunset magically coloring the horizon, snow falling like invisible crystals over the forests and around the city. a calm wind stirs your hair when one more sigh escapes you, the prince slowly going to sit on an iced marble support and guiding you to take place right by his side, all while you couldn't take your eyes off the scene before your eyes. "it's amazing, isn't it... i've been trying to reproduce some of these colors since i‘ve found this place." his voice echoes softly, for a minute you look at him and notice what appeared to be a hanging painting beside him with lots of orange and pinkish sketches, every one of them too delicate and well made. "but tell me, how do you feel now? i, hope you're not upset because i brought you here, instead of letting you do your job... anytime you want we can go back and meet jeno and renjun." you watch him kick his feet against the marble and lower his head a few times, as if he was somehow ashamed. "no i, i'm happy. all of this is just so incredible, like a dream. now i understand why you spend so much time here... oh and the boys- they won't mind too much, let‘s just not stay too long and go soon." you giggled jokingly making him smile too, the prince's expression filling up with joy again. "if you're happy then i am too..." suddenly he approached you making your heart pound to almost jump out of your mouth and rested his chin comfortably on your shoulder, doing what seemed like nuzzling into it as his arms come to wrap around you gently as if asking for permission. you felt the extremely soft, cold skin of his cheek brush agaisnt your warm one at the crook of your neck, silky blond strands also caress your face and the prince takes a deep breath, his hug tightening slightly. "thank you for trusting me, for always being with me. you don't know how much it means..." he says almost like a hesitant whisper and for some reason you can hear a bit of his loud heartbeats, your stomach fluttering at the same time jaemin pulled away to look at you, just as loving as you swore you never saw anything in your life. “you deserve everything, y/n…” your chest burns with the prince's cozy and so sincere words as well as his deep eyes and the touch of his cold fingers on your hot face once more but simultaneously to your flourishing feelings a hint of desperation runs through your head, causing you to no longer watch your own words. “b-but, majesty… i don't—” you go away a little but stop when you realize what you just called him, seeing his brows frowning and him sighing deeply with what he heard, looking a little disappointed. some few seconds of silence take over until you decide to say something, but jaemin breaks it up first, turning his face back to you already with a small smile at the corners of his lips. "you know what? from now on every time you call me like that i'll kiss you. sure now you'll stop.” the prince still tries to contain his smile but fails right after seeing your wide eyes and cheeks just like he thought of as two of the elegant roses from the royal garden and the rare, hard to get red auroras. “you look so cute when you blush… it's unbelievable.” jaemin just lets himself smile, captivating and gracious like a mirage, reminding you of when he first jumped into your window taking off the hood of his cloak from his forehead to let you see who he was — right in time you quickly put the back of your hand in front of your face, but a boost of courage rises to the flush coloring your ears and you remove it, resting it on your knee. “and you're just so beautiful… outside and inside… everything about you, everything you do or create is. you're just, loving… and although we're so different, my heart always feels so warm when i'm with you.” silence settles in for a while as you let out the last word, lowering your head for a moment before you look at him again. now sweat forms through your palms when you notice the prince's smile fading, replaced instead with his lips getting slightly parted and his chocolatey irises as bright as they never were locked in only you, untold feelings screaming in his chest every second thoughts of you and your words filled his head more and more. "that was, so sweet i could kiss you right now..." he says almost like a whisper, breath fastening little by little just like yours right when you heard him. “p-prince-” you let out again without noticing, your nervousness speaking louder again as your eyes widen in disbelief at what you have just done, but jaemin only smiles tenderly when he realizes your mistake, internally grateful to his soul for it. but before you could do anything, once more, the prince had already approached enough so his puffy yet gelid nose could touch yours, his large gloved hand comes to hold yours and your heart seems to burn away feeling how close he was, however you can't help but come up with any reaction except to just lower all your guards to the one that since the start has been filling your dreams. “i warned you… now suffer the consequences.” you heard him say out like in a playful tone for a moment, his other hand going to tickle the red fabric part under your breastplate, causing you to instantly laugh out of control along to him, both having fun at the same time you try to stop him, until all out of sudden he meets your foreheads and with his right hand touches your face as if caressing it, another beat skipped out of you when your eyes meet up again. “i'm in love with you y/n. since when i first met you… i don't know how to be without you anymore.” he confesses softly, catching every nerve in your body by surprise like time just seemed to stop with the sound of his husky voice and his small confession in your ears. but almost in the blink of an eye the prince leaned in and closed the space between you two, his delicate rosy lips, how you've always seen them, now pressed gently on yours, sealed in a kiss so sweet, and so genuine like your true yet hidden feelings for each other. and albeit your nervousness always came for the fact that yes, you two were indeed like fire and ice — you've been always afraid of the distance he had from you high like a castle, and the danger of what could happen if you two got too close — now you could do nothing but cast your burning heart in place, with him.

then as your eyes shut tightly and your sweating, shaking hand goes to cup jaemin's cheek, without you noticing the spot warms up with your touch and it turns red, making the prince feel like losing his breath for a second and open his lips a bit more to deepen the kiss, nibbling softly into your own — after all through it had never been iced, his heart was always there melting, and getting tinted by you, each by each day he got to jump your dorm's window.

1. With IceLiech (dies that count as a Nordic pairing?)

it’s half-nordic, so that’s fine!

...

 It seems that Erika becomes a completely different person in the kitchen.

  Her sweet, demure demeanor gives way for almost-inhuman efficiency, mixing, pouring and churning together a batch of chocolate in a mere fifteen minutes. Harald watches, dumbfounded, as Erika lifts up a heavy-looking bowl of melted milk chocolate and carries it to her marble countertop, gesturing for Harald to hand her a spatula as she pours it over the counter.

  "This process is called tempering," she says, "it's just to cool down the chocolate before we make it into moulds and stuff." Setting the bowl down on the floor, Erika spreads the chocolate over the counter, as Harald continues to play the shocked spectator. She looks at him after five minutes of tempering the chocolate, and giggles. "Do you want to help out?"

  He nods.

  "Okay!" Erika points at a cabinet across the kitchen. "Can you help me get a mould from there, please? Preferably the pyramid-shaped ones, if you can find them."

  Running to the cabinet, he opens it and pushes away pallet knives and piping tips until he can grab a mould, returning to Erika just as she's sweeping the now-tempered chocolate back into a bowl. 

  "Thanks, Harald." Erika reaches for the mould and begins to pour chocolate into them. "All right, now I think they're ready to go! We'll put these into the refrigerator for, say, an hour, and until they're done - " she lifts up a pack of sugar - "we can make nougats!"

...

  The next hour sees Erika speedily making chocolate-covered nougats, each one of them like a little bar of gold filled with crunchy chopped hazelnut brittle and wrapped in rice paper, before her timer rings noisily and she sets down her tray of chewy confections. "Oh, those must be the chocolates!"

  The next step is one that Erika allows Harald to do, studding the top of each chocolate with tiny bits of honeycomb and grains of kosher salt, just enough to pack a flavourful punch. He passes her one of the chocolate boxes, one that he's designed himself, and only then does he realise how many chocolates she's made.

  "Uh..." He quickly counts the chocolates and realises that there are seventy-eight of them. "Do we really need all that chocolate?"

  It's a stupid question to ask a chocolatier, but still.

  "Of course!" Erika rummages around in the countertop drawer for another box, dropping a few rolls of ribbon while she does so. "We're going to be giving these to Ling and Nataliya, after all, and you know how much of a sweet tooth those two have!"

  Rolling his eyes good-naturedly, he finishes boxing the chocolates and turns to the nougats. There are far, far less of those, barely fifteen. "What do we do with these, then?"

  "Oh, that's easy!" Erika picks one of the nougats up, turning it over in her hands. "We can have these right now."

(Word count: 484)

prompt: both work at the coffee shop and talk sometimes but that's enough to make each of them fall for each other. one day business is slow so richie and eddie get some coffee and have a mini date in their own job!! boom then they're rlly in love and they all live happily ever after - for anonymous

written by: Alexis | @quixoticquest

read on AO3

“I’m sorry ma’am, the peppermint bark latte is a seasonal drink. We don’t serve it until December.”

“What? Are you kidding me?” The woman across the counter levelled an incredulous glare at Eddie, as if he had spit in her face instead of reporting something he thought to be very reasonable. “I drove all the way here and you don’t have it?”

“We don’t. It’s a holiday drink,” Eddie answered, clinging to the scripted explanations that usually worked on perfectly rational customers. Who the fuck wanted a hot mint chocolate coffee in the summer anyway?

This woman, however, was anything but rational. “Can’t you just grab some syrup from the back, or whatever the hell you use to make it? It’s not that hard to flavor a latte.”

“We don’t have what we use to flavor it, ma’am. Since it’s, y’know, June?”

“Don’t get fresh with me! I know what month it is!”

“Then you should know we don’t have any fuc-”

“Whoa there, amigo.” The edge in Eddie’s voice died off as his coworker sidled up next to him - as if there was any room in front of the POS for two. “That’s no way to talk to a customer as lovely as any other.” Smooth as you like, Richie took over, laying it on thick. “No worries, ma’am, we might not have peppermint bark, but I’ll tell you what we do have - mint, and mocha. I’ll whip you up a latte with both and you won’t even know the difference. We don’t have the peppermint flakes to sprinkle on top but I can do chocolate shavings. Whaddaya say?”

For a tense moment, they glared between the three of them, The Good, the Bad and the Ugly style. Eddie wasn’t sure where he and Richie fell but he was pretty damn certain this nuisance customer was decidedly the Ugly.

“I guess that’s fine,” she finally grumbled, leaving Eddie to wonder where that grudging acceptance had been when he was dishing out facts.

“Awesome! Eds here’ll ring you up for that. You want any whipped cream?”

“Just to melt into the latte? No thank you.”

The awful woman passed over a wad of bills and moved on to the pickup counter without even dropping her change in the tip jar. When no one came through the dinky door at the front of the shop, and no one to the register, Eddie took up the flimsy plastic sleeve of hot cups Richie had been using to stock up, before he swooped in to save the day.

“I could have handled that,” he mumbled next to Richie as he shoved cups into the rack, unable to use his normal volume with the Peppermint Bark Bitch within earshot.

“You could have,” Richie exclaimed, nodding enthusiastically, squirting equal parts mocha and mint into the steaming cup in his hand. “You would have cursed her out and it would have been glorious. I might weep hot tears of joy just thinking about it. But also, like, you probably would have gotten fired, which isn’t so glorious, ya know? ‘Specially since I’d be so lost without you.”

Richie winked, and topped the dumb latte off with a sprinkle of the aforementioned chocolate shavings, before passing it down to the pickup counter. Eddie stood there, hands planted on his hips, frowning - doing a very good impression of someone who didn’t get flustered at the mercy of one stupid wink.

With that awful woman on her merry stupid way, the rest of the shop appeared exceedingly empty. Four o’clock on a weekday in the summer wasn’t the most prolific hour for a small town coffee shop, with lunchtime passed and the morning rush long over - which meant all they could really do before their shift was over, was clean and restock until someone else came in.

When it came to maintenance, Eddie always worked faster than Richie, wiping down the machines and filling the cups and lids like a champ - while the dumb brunet spent ten minutes at a time with a rag in the pastry case. Depending on how long they had been there, he may or may not start whining too. Whatever the reason for Richie’s shitty cleaning ethic, though, he made up for it in spades with his customer service. How he got through the full five or six hours without throwing a piping hot cup of coffee in some asshole’s face, Eddie would never know.

“This is boring,” Richie huffed, already whining as he crossed his arms leaning over the counter, where the orange afternoon sun set all the muted browns in the wood and his hair and apron to sepia. “I dunno why mid shift has to do this. Night shift does a whole fucking sweep of the place and God knows only the truckers and drunks are gonna be in here then.”

“Maybe food service isn’t for you,” Eddie mentioned, just barely managing to keep the smile from curling in the corner of his mouth.

“You’re right.” The four-eyed brunet sighed as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders (he didn’t), spinning to perch the other way, with his elbows balanced on the counter. His voice took on a soulful southern twang. “Mama always told me to get outta this one horse town. That I was born for the stage. That we’re all born superstars. She’d roll my hair, and put my lipstick on, in the glass of her boud-”

He got a face full of coffee-soaked rag, courtesy of Eddie. “Those are the lyrics to Born This Way!”

He didn’t realize he was staring until Richie transitioned entirely, hauling himself up to stand straight, for once.

“You don’t belong here either,” he mentioned, pointing a finger toward Eddie’s chest. “I’d peg you for a lawyer, but I’m not sure that mouth of yours would fly with the judge.”

“You’re one to talk,” Eddie retorted. Truthfully, he didn’t know what he wanted, or where he wanted to be. Just that this job payed a little better than minimum wage, included tips, and would hopefully get him somewhere better, someday.

He could think of one thing he might want though, glancing sidelong at Richie, aimlessly tidying the display next to the counter. And he didn’t even have to pay for it at all.

“I can’t really think of anything else to straighten up,” Eddie admitted eventually, rubbing his teeth over his bottom lip as his gaze trailed around the service area.

“You know what that means. Break time!” Spinning on the heels of his worn-out Chuck Taylors, Richie yanked a plastic cup from the stand - indication enough that he was going for his usual frozen favorite. “I’m making myself a drink.”

Suddenly, spurred by his presumption, an absurd idea came over Eddie. Without really thinking, he came forward and snatched the cup out of Richie’s hand, with all the gusto of someone following through with a concise course of action. This, however, was anything but.

“I know how you take yours,” he finally said, his mouth working at the same speed as his brain. “Bet I can make it perfectly.”

Richie blinked for a way too long second, long enough that Eddie’s blood started rushing with the weight of how stupid he was being. But finally, the idiot’s face took on a look of mock judgement, and he crossed his arms with put-upon petulance.

“Alright, Edspresso, do your worst.”

Calm again, and set to task, Eddie set the cup down on the prep counter and got to work. “A large caramel mocha frappe, no espresso,” he explained, narrating his actions with a dramatic roll of his eyes as he shovelled ice, milk and syrup into the blender. For a few seconds the tiny coffee shop filled with the buzz of the spinning blades, and Eddie remained silent until the noise settled, along with the thick concoction.

“Caramel drizzle around the cup,” he continued, demonstrating just so (with expert drizzling skill, if he did say so himself). He poured the frappe mixture into the cup, and darted away to grab the whipped cream can out of the ice bin. “Extra extra extra whipped cream, and to top it all off, caramel and chocolate drizzle.”

When all was said and done, with the dome lid capped over a mountain of whipped cream shooting out the hole in the middle, Eddie presented drink and straw to Richie, smiling rather smugly.

“In short, a diabetic coma waiting to happen.”

That familiar, toothy grin split onto Richie’s face, and he slow clapped for Eddie (a ridiculous gesture that definitely didn’t have him several sorts of secretly flattered).

“Well how ‘bout that.” The frappe passed from Eddie’s hands into Richie’s and he took a sip off the straw, indulging a few lip-smacks, wafting the cup under his nose as if it were wine. “Not bad, Eds, not bad. Your top drizzle is a little sloppy but I know the nozzle on the chocolate is fucked. Solid nine and a half.”

“Oh buzz off, Richie.” Eddie made to jab the idiot in the ribs but Richie was too fast, side-stepping with all the grace of a gangly newborn horse. The idiot then set his frozen confection on the counter, and plucked out another plastic cup.

“Now for you.” Winking again, Richie bopped the cup against Eddie’s nose, but was gone before the shorter brunet could protest - and the potential of Richie knowing how he took his coffee was just too great to resist, and so he clammed up.

“Medium iced hazelnut,” Richie began easily, with the tone and air of a proper English butler whilst shovelling ice and squirting flavoring. “Little less ice. Two sugars, two skim, two shots of espresso - which is probably why you’re so wound up all the time, but that’s none of my business.”

A sprinkle of sugar here and a spot of milk there and he filled the rest of the cup with coffee, gave it a good mix, and snapped a lid on before finally offering the drink to Eddie. “Short and sweet, just like you.”

“Wow, thanks,” Eddie mentioned, almost tightly as he took the coffee out of Richie’s hands, lips twitching as he fought yet another smile. Judging by Richie, who couldn’t resist a smile, he probably thought he had done a fantastic job. And to some extent, he had.

“But this is my morning order,” Eddie declared, closing his lips over the straw for a sip anyway.

Richie’s face fell. “What?!”

“Two espresso shots in the afternoon? Are you fucking nuts? My heart’ll give out.” Eddie rolled his eyes and scoffed. “If I get iced coffee later in the day I ditch the espresso and go one skim. I might even get a small too.”

“Well that’s not my fault! Sorry I don’t know the inner workings of your complicated coffee regimen!”

“Shut up, you dumbass,” Eddie griped. Before his lips could stretch too much, he took another sip, effectively quelling any inclination to smile. No way he was going to let himself finish the entire caffeine-pumped drink, though. “Besides, you were technically right anyways.”

Richie seemed satisfied with that at least, taking a moment to lick off the whipped cream puffing out over his cup. Eddie watched him for a moment, out of the corner of his eye. Even if his coffee hadn’t been completely right, there was something sort of delightful, knowing Richie had noticed enough to get his usual order down like that. All those mornings on the way to class, when Richie was scheduled and Eddie wasn’t. Busy with the regulars, and still managing to remember all those details.

Eddie could only wonder if Richie remembered them for all the same reasons.

“Hey, can I try?” Richie asked all of a sudden. “I’ve never had hazelnut before.”

“I thought you didn’t like espres-” Without warning, Richie’s head loomed down and close, and just when Eddie thought he might steal a sip from the straw, he shifted forward instead, slotting their lips together.

Richie’s mouth was cold from his frappe, and his breath tasted like mocha more than it tasted like caramel. Eddie blinked for a few endless seconds, heat creeping up into his ears and cheeks, until his friend and coworker finally slipped away - still bent at eye-level.

“Well hey,” Richie murmured, voice low as his dark eyes glinted behind his thick glasses. “Hazelnut tastes pretty good.”

Eddie shoved his hand up into Richie’s face, heart pounding as the idiot yelped and stumbled back. They calmed down just in time for the bell to tinkle over the door, and work and routine resumed in the little coffee shop once again.

Tagging: @princesass-theresa @r-u-reddie @stellarbisexual 

🍄 for the whumpy prompts

for @hechiceria, bc ur having the worst week, and also for @gingerly-writing @thewinedarksea @she-writes-love @lux-scriptum @kclenhartnovels, bc u heathens love rembrandt way too much

this is not canon.

tw violence, poison

“I’ll try to get back in time, but the weather up here is terrible,” Rhiannon had said. “Just cancel the reservation, all right? If I make it back tonight anyway, we can go somewhere else.”

Winn had been disappointed, but he had agreed anyway. He really doubted the trains up in New York were going to become any less delayed, not with the winter storms pounding the city. He’d hung up, then hunched his shoulders and slouched into the animal shelter to start his volunteer shift, leaving the freezing rain the plagued Boston outside.

With the weather, it was impossible to talk any of the dogs out for very long. Winn let them out to run in the shelter’s kennel for a few minutes at a time; most of the rest of his time was busy cleaning them up after they got said run, and try to keep their restlessness contained. It infected him nearly as badly; by the time the end of his volunteer shift was nearly over, he was thoroughly sick of dogs and cats and everything else they had in the shelter.

“Hey, thanks a lot for coming in,” his supervisor said, but Winn had already slammed the door in his face.

The rain had stopped, at least, but now instead it was snowing heavy, fat flakes. The door opened again behind him, and Winn flinched away before his supervisor could grab his arm. “Someone dropped this off for you.”

He passed over a thin, square red box, labelled from a high-end chocolatier in a nicer part of town. Winn arched his eyebrows as he took it. He didn’t need to open the box to know that there was only one small chocolate inside - caramel - even though there were spaces for five others.

“Who delivered it?” he asked, frowning as he pulled a tiny envelope out from under the ribbon wrapped around the box. His supervisor shrugged, already heading back inside.

“It was some guy from the shop, I guess,” he said, then added jealousy, “Wish my girlfriend would give me something.”

Winn hadn’t even thought to do something like this for Rhiannon, and bit his lip. He knew where she was, up in New York, he probably could’ve gotten someone to take her flowers.

He’d get something ready for her tonight, at her apartment. The note inside the envelope was hand-written, but Winn didn’t recognize the penmanship, especially after a few flakes drifted onto the paper. He brushed them off and read, Happy Valentine’s Day! Follow the trail for a special treat at the end! -Rhiannon ♡

Winn didn’t realize he was was blushing for a moment. This wasn’t like her at all - but then again, it was their first Valentine’s together. And they weren’t even in the same city.

The paper didn’t say anything else. Winn stuck it into his pocket, then peeled the box open; he had to flip the lid over to find an address written on its underside, along with a cheery little, eat me!

Grinning, Winn popped the chocolate into his mouth. He’d meant to go home and let his dogs out, now that it had stopped raining, but they could wait.

–

The first stop made him laugh. Winn and Rhiannon had grown up together, but when he left for the States, they hadn’t seen each other until after he’d been released from prison. She was going to Boston for school, and Winn shivered at the change in air temperature as he stepped inside the laundromat they’d run into each other at, for the first time in nearly a decade. The next chocolate - hazelnut - was wrapped up very prettily in foil and a tiny little bow, and sat on top of another paper with another address. Winn bit into it as he read off the address, and frowned slightly at an edge of flavor that didn’t seem to belong - but then it was lost in the aftertaste, and he thought nothing more of it.

The next took him to Rhiannon’s favorite coffee shop, one of the baristas brightly handing it over to him (along with a mocha). Winn tracked the fourth to Rhiannon’s favorite spot on campus, where they often had lunch. He was freezing, by now, and his head pounded, and Rhiannon had to know about the weather down here. Why would she send him on some wild goose chase like this?

He recognized the address for the fifth chocolate immediately: Winn’s court-mandated group therapy that he was supposed to be attending was held there. He scoffed and sent Rhiannon a quick text, his mood souring further.

Fine i get the hint

Lol about what?

Winn was back at the bus stop when he got her answer. He snorted as he waited underneath the overhang, hunched up against the freezing wind. The sound of traffic only worsened his headache; he closed his eyes, and didn’t realize that the bus had pulled up until he heard the sharp hiss and squeal of its brakes.

He twitched, looking up in confusion. He hadn’t even noticed it coming.

Winn hadn’t even noticed it coming.

“Are you getting on?” the bus driver called crabbily. Winn blinked, shook himself, and stepped up. He slipped, and caught himself on the guard railing. The driver grunted and rolled their eyes, nearly invisible under the layers of hats and coats, as Winn fumbled his bus pass out to be scanned. He dropped into a seat as the bus started moving, and stared at his own feet.

He never slipped. He never slipped, and he never missed the bus - never even almost missed the bus. Scowling, Winn slumped in his seat, and didn’t move his feet from where they stretched into the aisle during the next few stops the bus made.

By the time his stop arrived, Winn felt like he wanted to throw up. He knew part of it was his claustrophobia, but even after a few minutes in the brisk, snowy air, his stomach wouldn’t settle. No one was in the building as he approached, and Winn thought, for one minute, about turning around and just going back home to lie down. Now he was starting to sweat, but the chill still drove him inside when he discovered that the front door was unlocked.

With his head throbbing, Winn pulled his power into a smaller radius than normal, trying to lessen the ache behind his eyes. His session met in an open gym space every Thursday; he hadn’t been to one in months, and squinted blearily across the open room as he pushed the door open.

Only the security lights were on, flickering in a corner. No one had put the plastic folding chairs away from their meeting earlier, and they stood in a circle in the middle of the floor. Muttering under his breath, Winn crossed the room, but he overlooked the foil-wrapped candy until he was close enough to visually see it on one of the chairs.

Winn paused, frowning down at the innocent chocolate. He should have known that was there. He should have known it from the second he stepped off the bus.

Was he getting sick? Head colds didn’t usually do this to him. Winn’s fingers shook as he unwrapped the chocolate, another development that made him pause. He was getting sick.

He stuck the chocolate into his mouth, pushing it into his cheek as he ran his fingers over the chair. There wasn’t a slip of paper with this one, and Winn frowned as he squinted at the foil. No clue there, either. Maybe he should text Rhiannon -

“Good evening.”

The voice startled Winn into yelping. He whipped around - no one had been there, he hadn’t seen anyone - fuck, he hadn’t sensed anyone -

And he didn’t sense the baton until it smashed into his face.

Winn reeled back, hit a chair, and toppled into another couple of them, tipping one onto the ground. He choked on the chocolate he hadn’t finished chewing, and a disgusting, half-chewed mess of caramel and sea salt spat out of his mouth. Winn tasted blood, and reached up to feel his nose. It had definitely been broken.

“Well. That has never been easier.”

The familiar, oil-slick voice sent chills crawling all over Winn’s skin. He pushed himself onto his side, and stared up at Rembrandt, backlit by the single security light near the door. Rembrandt wore a snake’s smile and an immaculate suit, idly twirling his electric baton in his fingers. Winn sucked in a breath, and pushed himself backwards.

“What - How’d you get in here?” he demanded, voice thick. Blood covered his lips, and Winn wiped it away with one sleeve. Rembrandt hadn’t been there a second ago. Did he teleport in? Someone had to have done it - Winn would have noticed him, of all people -

“I’ve been here.” Rembrandt grinned lazily as Winn stared at him. “You walked right past me.”

“No,” Winn said automatically. He put a hand on the chair nearest him, to push himself up. Rembrandt put his polished leather shoe against another chair two seats down the row, and shoved; the impact hit the one Winn was using for support, and he slipped off it and back to the ground.

Rembrandt rested his baton against his shoulder. “You’re a mess. Good to know that nullifier works.”

Winn’s ears were ringing. He rubbed his palm against his eyes, unconsciously smearing blood across his cheek. He didn’t understand - he was hot and then clammy in moments, fear uncoiling in his already-churning stomach. He tried to focus his power on the baton, on Rembrandt, on the door.

And there was nothing.

Winn’s eyes snapped open. Rembrandt was there - but Winn couldn’t sense him. He couldn’t sense anything. He was blind.

“What - What did you do to me?” Winn snarled. He pushed himself to his feet, and the room spun around him. Winn put a hand to his cheekbone, feeling a gash there from where part of the baton had hit him. Rembrandt was there, he was right there - but then he moved, before Winn even realized it, and slammed the baton into Winn’s stomach.

“I did nothing,” Rembrandt said, as Winn dropped to one knee, dry heaving and struggling for breath at his feet. “You were the one eating candy you just found on the street.”

Cocking his head, Rembrandt regarded Winn for a moment, and then he kicked him in the ribs. The impact dropped Winn to his side, and he rolled over onto his back. He’d just returned his gaze to Rembrandt when there was another impact, in the same spot. Winn cried out as he felt one of his ribs crack.

Winn’s vision blurred. He blinked once, hard, and then again, when his eyes refused to focus. He scooted backwards away from Rembrandt, bumping into the chairs again, and swore. “What did you put in them?” he demanded, and hated that he couldn’t hide the way the fear and pain broke his voice.

Rembrandt ran his fingers down the electric baton. Winn could feel the burn scars that marched up his ribs tingle in remembered pain, and swallowed back a whine of fear.

“Poison,” Rembrandt said, flashing Winn a grin that flashed in the dim lighting like fire. “I won’t bore you with the specifics, but there’s a fantastic little concoction that some friends of mine have been working on for, well - decades, really. A power dampener.”

Rembrandt took two steps forward, then crouched down in front of Winn, snagging the front of his shirt before Winn could get away. Rembrandt moved his fingers to tighten around Winn’s chin, forcing him to look him in the face, and smiled. “How does it feel to be just like everyone else, Winn?”

A sob tore out of Winn’s chest. He threw himself backwards, lashing out at Rembrandt. The other man leaned back and just let him go, still smiling. He stood up and waited for Winn to scramble out of the broken circle of chairs, stumbling to his feet.

“My friends wanted to do a little field test,” Rembrandt said easily. “And considering the date, I thought you’d be feeling a bit lonely. So I arranged a little gift.”

“R-Remy,” Winn said, wiping at the blood from his nose again. His side flared with pain from the movement, his broken rib grinding against itself. He swung his head wildly, trying to remember the exits - he couldn’t find an escape route - what if there were other people? He couldn’t find them, he couldn’t sense the building, he couldn’t know where everything was -

When he looked back at Rembrandt, the man was closer than before, and Winn swore, jumping back. He nearly fell over, and took another step back. “Stay - Stay away -”

Rembrandt paused, and held up his free hand. “My apologies,” he said, smooth as silk. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“The fuck you didn’t,” Winn retorted. He tried to focus, but his headache only intensified, edging closer into a migraine. He stuck his hands into his pockets - and his phone wasn’t there. “Get away from me.”

“Oh, well, if you insist.” Rembrandt shrugged, and even backed up a couple of steps. “Of course, you’re still missing a chocolate, aren’t you?”

Winn blinked back tears. “The fuck?”

“Six chocolates,” Rembrandt said. “You found five.”

“You poisoned them!”

“I only poisoned the first two.” Rembrandt flashed him a carefree grin. “They’re a little slow-acting, I’m told. Of course, the nullifier isn’t supposed to have so much of a physical impact. I thought I would… enhance it.”

“What did you do?” Winn’s breath came short and sharp, and he rubbed at his eyes again, as sweat stung the cut on his cheek. “Remy - Rembrandt, what did you do.”

“I put the antidote in the sixth one.” Rembrandt’s eyes glittered, and he shifted his feet to shoulder-width apart. “It’s on the roof.”

Winn’s thoughts immediately jumped there - except he couldn’t find a way up to the roof. His stomach sank.

“I’ll give you a headstart,” Rembrandt offered graciously. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Winn.”