Passion

The back door creaks open, then Karin's voice rings out.

“Lars, Andrea and her brother are over for dinner!”

She knows he heard, even with her footsteps crunching into the snow and approaching the garage.

He slowly opens the door, not entirely hiding like he used to before– thanks to help of Dr. Dagmar– truly she's a miracle worker.

“I- uh, I heard you, just give me a moment, please?”

Lars softly asks now, as he speaks to Karin, her smile on her face is hard to not mimic back– even if she can be a lot at times.

Karin pauses just outside the garage door, snow dusting the shoulders of her coat while warm light from the house spills across the gravel driveway.

“Take your time,” she says gently, though there's that familiar brightness in her voice. “Andrea brought pie, so if you wait too long, Gus is gonna eat all of it.”

Lars lets out the faintest breath of a laugh through his nose, his fingers tightening around the edge of the blanket for a second before relaxing again.

From inside the house, muffled voices drift through the cold air. Andrea’s warm and easy to recognize immediately, talking about something quickly, probably trying to fill the silence before it even happens. 

Another voice follows her– her brother's voice, that's deeper and quieter. 

Lars shifts awkwardly in the doorway, shoulders hunched beneath his sweater.

“Is he…” Lars hesitates, as he blinks a little longer than he should, opening his eyes and flickering them to the house instead of Karin. “Is he nice?”

The question comes out quieter than he means it to.

Karin's expression softens instantly.

“Oh, Sweetheart,” she says, stepping a little closer. “Yeah, he’s nice.”

She studies him for a moment, before adding more carefully.

“Andrea’s told you bits about him beforehand,” Placing a tentative hand on the sleeve of Lars sweater, he tenses slightly, though more used to her touch.

“Not everything– but just enough so you know what he’s like.”

That helps.

 a little.

Lars nods slowly, staring down at the concrete floor of the garage. His heartbeat still feels uncomfortable in his chest, too noticeable, too loud. 

But not unbearable.

Not like before.

Dr. Dagmar would probably call that progress.

Karin’s hand rubs his arm gently through the sleeve of his sweater.

“You don’t have to perform,” she reminded him softly. “Just come eat dinner.”

Lars swallows hard, his lips doing that sort of tense smile.

“...okay.”

When he finally steps out of the garage, the cold air immediately curling around him, Karin smiles like she’s trying to not make a big deal out of it.

Even though it clearly means something to her.

The two walk closer to the back door, the chilling air nipping at them.

But conversation happens, because of Karin.

“You know, Andrea speaks of him really highly,” Karins says now, a smile on her face as she recounts the several times she's heard the other woman speak highly of Y/N.

“Told me she was practically raised by him.”

That strikes Lars, interest in that.

“...Really?”

Lars asks softly, intrigued by the background Karin brought up.

“Yeah, and if he raised her, I bet he is just as sweet as she is.”

Taking in a cold breath of air, Lars just nods and smiles at that, feeling a bit more reassurance at Karin’s words.

“Andrea is nice.”

They step onto the porch together. The wood creaks underneath their combined weight, and Lars instinctively hesitates near the door, gloved fingers brushing anxiously at the edge of his sleeve.

Karin notices it immediately.

“You’re doing great.”

Simple words, but they land carefully.

Lars glances at her, unsure of what to do with the praise, before giving a tiny nod.

Then the back door opens before either of them can reach for it.

Warmth spills outside first, followed by the smell of dinner.

Andrea beams the second she sees them.

“There you are!” She says brightly before immediately stepping aside. “Come in before you both freeze to death out there!”

Behind her, Lars catches a sight of a figure further inside of the kitchen. 

Taller than Andrea, leaning on hand against the counter whilst listening to Gus relate about how exhausting long car rides are. 

The man looks over at the sound of the door opening. 

Lars lingers near the doorway, after shutting the door behind him, carefully stomping snow from his boots onto the mat, and changing it into the pair he brought in a plastic bag.

The kitchen is crowded in that familiar, small-town way. Pots simmering, chairs slightly mismatched, somebody talking over somebody else.

Andrea’s brother stands near the counter, one hand resting against it while Gus continues to explain the story of when he and Karin came back here.

“God, it was the crankiest I've ever seen her,” Gus chews on a celery stick talking.

“Everything was so cramped and our car was as well, so it just made it a thousand times worse.”

“I would be too–  I actually was,” Y/N replies easily. “Never driving one hundred something miles again, anywhere.”

Karin laughs as she shrugs her coat off.

Andrea notices Lars still hovering near the entrance and immediately brightens.

“Hi, Lars.”

Her voice is warm and genuine, the same as always. Like shes happy he came, not relieved or surprised.

Lars nods once.

“Hi.”

Andrea gestures towards the man by the counter.

“This is my brother, Y/N.”

Y/N’s attention is now back on Lars, expression open and calm.

“Hey.”

Not overly enthusiastic. Not cautious either.

Just normal.

Lars appreciates that more than he can explain.

“This is Lars,” Andrea adds, though softer this time, like she already knows the introduction matters differently for him.

“Nice to meet you,” Y/N says.

There’s a brief pause before he offers his hand, but its hesitant enough that Lars can tell he’s giving him room to ignore it if he wants.

That helps.

Lars manages a quick handshake, awkward and a brief beneath his gloves, before immediately pulling back again. Heat prickles uncomfortably beneath his skin for a second, but not long enough to send him spiraling.

Better than before.

“Dinner should be ready soon,” Karin says brightly, already moving around the kitchen.

“Good,” Gus says. “I’m starving.”

“You’ve been starving since noon,” Karin replies.

“Thats different.”

Conversation keeps moving after that, easy and unforced. Y/N slips back into it naturally, asking Gus questions here and there, listening more than talking.

Lars notices that.

Notice how Y/N doesn’t dominate the room the way some people do. He lets silence happen without rushing to fix it. Let other people talk without trying to take control of the conversation.

That eases Lars, that makes it easier to be around somebody like that.

Andrea eventually nudges her brother lightly with her elbow.

“Tell Lars what you said on the walk here.”

Y/N sighs immediately. “Andrea–”

“You said this town looks like a snow globe.”

“That was before I almost died by slipping on ice.”

Gus then realizes something in that moment.

“That reminds me, we have to buy salt for the sidewalk.” 

He says towards Karin, with a point of a finger.

Karin points back at Gus with immediate agreement.

“We do need salt.”

“I almost busted my hip out there,” Gust insists.

“You slipped once.”

“I slipped hard, Karin.”

Andrea groans softly, seemingly used to this banter as she’s been over quite a few times to hang out with Karin.

Y/N, meanwhile, look unfairly entertained by it all.

“I’m with Gus on this one,” he says. “Your sidewalk is trying to kill people.”

“That’s just winter,” Karin replies casually.

“You think that's what grandma said when she got ran over by reindeer?” Y/N says back now.

A quiet sound escapes Lars before he can stop it– half laugh, half startled breath through his nose.

Y/N glances towards him at the noise, catching the small smile tugging at Lars’ mouth.

Instead of drawing attention to it, he just smiles as well, glad that Lars enjoyed the comment as well.

“What about you Lars? Do you survive the sidewalks okay?” 

Y/N asks now, not wanting to only focus on Karin and Gus. 

Lars blinks, slightly caught off guard at being directly included so suddenly. 

“I… don’t go out much in bad weather,” Lars adds after a small pause. 

“Usually I’m chopping wood or going to work.”

He hesitates again, fingers tightening around his mug.

“Uh, sometimes— I go bowling with Margo and some of Gus’s work friends.” 

The second it’s out, he seems to realize how many eyes are on him, looking away, he blinks.

His shoulders draw in a little like he’s trying to take up less space. 

“…yeah,” Lars finishes quietly, almost like he’s trying to close the topic before it grows. 

There’s a beat. 

“That’s nice,” Y/N says, tone easy.

“I used to take Andrea out bowling a lot when we were younger.” 

Andrea immediately groans.

“Oh my god, please don’t tell them about that phase.” 

Y/N ignores her completely.

“She used to complain that the bowling balls were too heavy.” 

“They were heavy,” Andrea defends. 

“I was like ten.” 

Gus snorts. 

“So… nothing’s changed then?” 

Andrea throws him a look. 

“This is nice.” Lars thinks to himself, as he smiles softly into the mug, taking another sip of the warm cocoa.

“Yeah, this is nice.”

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@dessaydoo

@ergohouseknt

The road is slightly bumpy, the gravel beneath your old car hard enough to make it rattle and shake. Every pebble feels like it's trying to knock something loose on the frame.

Looking in the rearview mirror. Cardboard boxes are stacked unevenly in the backseat and trunk, stuffed full with whatever pieces of your life could actually fit into the car. Clothes, books, and random junk you probably should’ve sold years ago but couldn’t help yourself to leave behind.

 A tired sigh escapes your lips, shoulders aching from your hands being on the wheel for so long, alongside with exhaustion kicking in.

You almost wish you didn’t hit the road and head down to where your sister lives, but it was for the better.

Having to remind yourself of that constantly, even with your numb butt gnawing at the thought saying otherwise.

Then finally, you see the sign come into view, welcoming you into the small town in Wisconsin.

Sometimes you still wonder why your sister decided to live out here. This small town feels suffocating just thinking about it. Everybody knows everybody else’s business, gossip spreading faster than the wind that kicks around trash.

Still… Maybe there was something comforting about it too. 

Quiet streets.

Familiar faces.

A life simple enough to actually breathe.

You turn onto another gravel road, tires slipping slightly on the loose stones before you quickly straighten the wheel.

“Loose gravel is gonna kill you one day.” The thought drifts through your head automatically.

After another minute or two, the rough road turned into smooth pavement. The neighborhood ahead is small and sleepy, lined with aging houses, lined with overgrown weeds and grass with the occasional yard decoration.

Slowing the car down, scanning house after house while trying to remember your sister's description of her own.

“Small white house, looks like it got the landlord special, uh– has Christmas lights on the railings.”

You snort quietly to yourself, remembering your sister's words over the phone. Some of your humor definitely rubbed off on her over the years.

At last, you see the house she described, alongside her sitting outside waiting in the cold weather.

Rolling down your window, “Andrea, what the hell are you doing, it’s freezing outside?” 

Your voice rings out when you finally park the car, leaving the driver's seat with an appreciated groan and finally getting to stretch your legs.

“I had to make sure you didn’t get lost!” A shiver in her voice, while her boots crunch the thin layer of snow on her porch steps.

“And freeze your tits off?” Your voice has humor laced in it, as she smacks your arm at the comment, even if she has a smile on her face.

“Thank you, Andrea, it was really sweet of you to wait outside in the cold for me, Andrea,” she does an okay impression of your voice.

“Wow, thank you Y/N, I’m so glad you appreciate my selflessness!”

“Okay– okay, I got it.”

Your eyes roll affectionately as you pop the trunk, grabbing a box.

“But, seriously, thank you, I’m sure it’s a bit annoying having your brother move in.”

Appreciation finally showing, even if it's a bit bashful.

Andrea’s expression softens at that, the teasing grin melting into something quieter, more genuine. Snow catches in the strands of her hair while she stuffs her hands in her pockets.

“It’s not annoying,” she says, nudging the box in your hands lightly. “You know that.”

You huff out a small laugh, adjusting the box into your arms. “Still, feels kinda weird to move into your place now.”

Andrea snorts. “Please, half the stuff I know about surviving came from you.” 

“That sounds concerning.” 

“I mean it.” Her voice drops softer this time, boot crunching through the snow as she walks beside you towards the porch. “You practically raised me, remember?’

This comment hits harder.

Not because it wasn’t true.

It’s just from how casually she says it, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

You remember late nights helping her with her homework at the kitchen table because nobody else would. 

Making cheap boxed dinners and pretending like they’re the best dish ever made.

Walking her to school.

Staying awake while she was sick.

Learning how to braid her hair with shaky and unsure hands, but you learned.

You were barely old enough yourself back then.

“Well,” you clear your throat, trying to brush off the sudden heaviness in your chest, “look how great you turned out.”

Andrea immediately grins. “Emotionally damaged but funny?”

“Exactly.”

She laughs, bumping her shoulder into yours hard enough to almost knock the box out of your hands.

“Seriously though,” she says quieter, opening the front door. Warm air spills out instantly, carrying the smell of candles and something slightly burnt. “You don’t gotta thank me for staying out here waiting for you. You’d do the same for me.”

You pause in the doorway for just a second.

Because she's right.

You always would.

Andrea notices the look on your face and immediately points it accusingly. “Don’t get all emotional on me now.” 

“I’m not emotional.” 

“You literally have the older sibling stare right now.”

“The what?”

“The ‘I sacrificed my teenage years for you’ stare.”

“That is not a thing.”

“It absolutely is,” She grabs the lighter box from your arms, before you can argue. “ Now hurry up before your old man's knees give out in the cold.”

“You’re twenty-three.”

“And you’re ancient to me.” 

“I almost forgot how annoying you can be.”

A scoff leaves your lips, as you now look around in her house, eyeing some pictures she has.

“You mean annoyingly loveable,” Placing the box down near the couch in the living area.

“What’re you looking at?”

You stare at a picture, with a few other ladies around your sister and a… Doll in a wheel chair?

“What is this?” Pointing at the framed photo, specifically at the doll.

Andrea makes her way over, peering over your shoulder a bit.

“Oh, that's Bianca, I can explain it all to you, it’s kinda complicated.”

You give her a look, a bewildered look on your face at how casually she said it.

“...okay?”

══════════════════

“Wow,” Your voice cuts through the air from shock over the whole situation.

“So, is Lars doing better now?”

You ask now, as you hold a warm mug in your hands. Having finished placing the boxes in a room that's now yours.

“Yeah, he's doing a lot better, ever since–” She seems to hesitate as she then put her hands in the air and does air quotes, “‘Bianca died’ he’s been more out with some friends he’s made, but overall, he’s a really sweet guy.”

“You might like him, he’s just on the shy side.”

Andrea explains to you, as you take in the new information about this Lars guy.

“You sound like you’re close to him?”

You state now, even if it sounds more like a question than a statement.

“Oh no, I mean– we know of one-another and we’ve talked just a bit, though it was mostly me talking at the time…”

“His sister in law, Karin. She and I are close friends, so when we hang out she tells me some things about him and her concerns here and there.”

Though her face seemed to brighten, something came back to her mind.

“Actually, that reminded me, she invited us over to have dinner.”

“Like, right now?” 

Your eyebrows are raised in surprise at that.

“I just drove hours here, I don’t know if I can handle meeting another person right now, I’m exhausted.”

Placing down the warm mug on the small table beside you on the couch.

“Yeah, that's why I gave you coffee.”

Andrea says with a matter of fact tone, this makes you look at her with that deadpan annoyed stare.

“Yeah, because coffee is gonna make me wanna socialize after my ass was numb in my car seat.”

Standing up now from the cushioned chair, you walk back over to the coat rack and grab yours.

“Fine, we can go, I remember how annoyingly persistent you can be.”

With that Andrea gives an almost happy cheer, like she won the lottery by convincing you to go over to Karins.

“You’ll love them, Gus and Karin, oh– they also have a new born kid, a beautiful little girl, her name is Elinor.”

Andrea says rapidly, while grabbing her own winter gear as well, ready to walk over to Karin's and Gus’s, excited for her friends to meet her older brother finally.

“Elinor, got it.”

Your voice reaches her ears as you confirm remembering the little infant's name, as you now hold open the door for her, letting her out first before closing it behind the two of you.

══════════════════

Looking out the small door window from the garage door, Lars can see two bodies walking up to the porch.

“Who is that?” He can’t help the thought that runs across his brain, he recognizes Andrea.

“Shes nice.” Another thought abruptly swims over him, like he's keeping track of who's good and who isn’t.

Holding his baby blanket that's wrapped around his neck like a scarf closer to him, lifting it up to his nose, as if he’s trying to get some sort of comfort out of it.

He can see Karin wrap her arms around the taller male, he seems surprised by the gesture, but returns it anyways with a soft smile on his face.

Lars notices the slight slump in his shoulders.

But he smiles kindly.

“He looks tired.”

Lars can’t help but note to himself, though a soft smile of his own grows on his face.

“He seems nice.”

And if Andrea brought him here, then he probably is.

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TAG LIST!

• When you muttered those words to him, those affectionate filled words, “I love you,” fuck— did it send a chilling thrill down his spine, something he’s only ever experienced from hurting others and making creatures lesser than him feel fear.

• How he yearns for you like you’re his life line, how he can’t control his thoughts about you, always invading his ever twisted mind, even when he tried to leave all he could ever think about was you.

• He wants you to so desperately mean every word that comes out of your pretty little mouth. When you tell him to come closer, he listens like a damn dog—maybe he is pathetic, like you said. He wants nothing more than to just be in your presence basking in it.

• He’s never felt so…. needy before. His mind is racing with thoughts of you— your words, your kindness, your body. God, your muscly body from hard work in the mines and farming. He desperately just hopes one day you get annoyed enough with him taking your food and items that you’ll take your anger out on him, pinning him against some surface and putting those muscles to use against him—even if he could over power you.

• Whole reason why he started being enamored by you, you just… weren’t phased. Biting back when he hit first, even being considerate and compassionate when you saw he was taking food out of your chest, putting extra in there and even making him his own designated chest, just for him.

• You tease him in subtle ways, when you spot him, you say things like “caught you,” or “I see you.”

• It does something to him tremendously, it’s like he’s the one being watch, and not the other way around… admittedly at times his mind has gone to other places if you decided to, physically capture him… (definitely a thing for predator and prey. )

• He’s not experience, you’re his first, with everything. First time he’s ever felt like this, first time ever craving another living creature, and it’s all you that caused it.

• When you express you’re interested in him, it’s like a forest fire started in his brain, lighting up all the nerves in his body, starting to violently shake from your flirting and teasing (though to you it probably looks like he’s shaking in anger.)

• There have been moments where you got close, touched him and allowed him to touch you—god it’s his favorite thing to do now—whenever you grace the opportunity for him to be allowed, he’s lapping it up like a dog that hasn’t been allowed water.

- Rick deals with a lot of violence in the world he’s been forced to live in ever since he woke up from his coma.

- A lot of people tend to think that because he’s grown and become rough around the edges for surviving, that he’s not that once loving husband that didn’t want to yell or argue.

- He still doesn’t try to argue, at least not in a way of typical yelling or screaming matches, this has been shown many times in the show, it’s been said by Lori even in the early seasons that—in her words— “I wish he would call me a bitch.”

- carrying on though, I believe Rick would be much more tender in bed, taking his time to unravel you and appreciating that moment, soft kisses going down your stomach to eventually where you need him the most.

- his tongue lapping at your clit or tip like it’s the best thing to happen to him in a long time, taking his time to fully enjoy the once peaceful and loved filled moment, even with lust and want coursing through the both of you.

- how he’d groan as he takes you in, feeling the vibrations of his mouth alongside with the slight scruffiness of the beard he hasn’t gotten around to shaving yet.

- teasing you, licking each lip, or flicking his tongue underneath the edge of your tip, just enough but also little stimulation.

- but at some point he just can’t hold back his want for you, how much he needs you, like by finally diving his tongue inside of your cunt, or finally picking up the pace as he takes your dick whole.

- God, how Rick would love to hear the sounds he’s able to pull out of you by doing something like this, showing his appreciation and dedication to you.

- Having a hard on as he grinds down against the bed, the worn down jeans adding friction to stimulate his cock.

- of course, I don’t think this would mean he’s never rough with you, you can be rough in bed without the name calling, degrading, and smacking you on the ass to punish you.

- a sharper thrust of his hips, so desperately, like he’ll never get a moment like this again to blow off some sort of steam.

- digging his fingers or nails into the meat of your hips to hold you down against his cock, teasing you and not letting you move as he chuckles against your neck at the desperation he hears from you as you whine in complaint.

- pulling your hair, long or short, to keep you up right as he fucks you from the back, fast and pounding of your hips colliding in a wet and dedicated sound.

- he doesn’t use pet-names in bed, maybe the occasional “hun,” but that’s at best what I can imagine him saying in the heat of the moment.

- most of it is grunts and groans of your name, huskily against your ear or him saying it out loud in the bedroom in a hush whisper, like if he says it any louder the moment will be ruined.